I want to be a better mom

I don't think I'm a bad mom now but I am constantly looking for ways that I can improve or obsessing over things that I did that weren't good mom things. There is a fine line between what is normal and what I do. I get myself so worked up sometimes but its almost entirely internal. Who would ever admit the things they do when nobody else is around? The other day I called my 5 year old a jerk. I shudder now just thinking about it. As if that wasn't bad enough it was unwarranted as the thing that I thought he did was not done. I apologized profusely to him, over and over. I hugged him, I told him how much I love him, I told him how wrong it was of me to say, I promised that I'd never, ever do anything like that again......and still, it's there. In the world, it's there. Another little brick in the wall that has been building between us since he was born. I know that the wall is necessary. Without it, children would never leave home. But I don't want to be the one who's doing the brick work. That is left up to him. Something known can't be unknown, no matter how hard we try or how badly we wish it away. Something done can't be undone. I would give anything to take back what I said to my baby and it leaves me feeling sad and filled with grief that I can't and that I ever said it in the first place. My love for the boys is vast and endless and nothing in this life has ever come close to filling my heart with love like they do. Being a mom also involves crushing pain....and this is not something anyone tells you about. I feel this pain when I notice that they have grown, just since they went to bed last night, and that soon they won't even be close to being my babies anymore. I feel it when someone hurts their feelings or makes them sad, especially if its me or their dad. I love being a mom. I wouldn't wish for anything else or anything more. But I still want to be a better mom.

I'm too much

Okay, I know, I can really be a bit too much sometimes. Does anyone who knows me honestly think that I'm just going through the world completely unaware of this? I am, more often than not, too loud, too silly and often I say things that people have no idea how to respond to because they have no idea what I'm talking about. I'm okay with that, all of that. For a long time I beat myself up thinking about these things. I wondered how to teach myself to be quieter, calmer, more mature but I got tired of that very quickly. The thing is, this is me. The real true honest me IS too loud, too silly, very sarcastic, talks too fast and laughs too much and doesn't really give much of a damn how anyone else feels about it. My opinion is now and has always been, if you don't like it, don't look.

With that being said, the one thing that I do have a problem with is that those too-much things often prevent people from seeing other parts of me. I actually do have some good parts but I think I'm not taken seriously a lot of the time. For example, if anyone I know needed something at 3 in the morning I would 100% of the time be there for them in any way that was within my grasp of being. I would not be angered, annoyed, upset or any other negative or harsh emotion. I like being needed and that hasn't happened a lot in my life. I would pretty much do anything for anyone, assuming here that nothing illegal or harmful is asked of me, because I don't mind. I really and truly don't mind.

I have offered these things in the past only to be granted a oh-aren't-you-cute-but-there's-no-way half smile response. That does truly and deeply make me sad. I hate that I'm not the kind of person that other people feel they can trust and rely on but I don't know how to make that part of me just as obvious as the too-much parts. Maybe I'm just not big enough for all these parts.

human beings are so dumb.

Michael Phelps smoked pot. Big Damn Deal! So have millions and millions of other people. Who gives a crap?!? The man won 8 gold medals. EIGHT GOLD MEDALS at the Olympics. He worked his ass off, sacrificed, so that he could be the best. Maybe he was celebrating? Maybe he just felt like getting high? Who the hell do "we" think we are to judge him? Did he kill someone? Drive drunk and crash into a house? Hurt a child? Nope. He got high. That's it.

How many of us can say that we give everything we have, and more, to our passions? Our families? Our work? Ourselves? How many of us can say that we do it EVERY DAY? No breaks, no days off, no whining, no complaining.....that we give 100% every minute of the day?

I know I can't. I desperately wish that I could say that I do but I'd be lying. Some days I just don't wanna. I'm tired, feeling lazy, PMS'ing, irritable, whatever.

I'm glad he did it. Good for him.

And away we go.....

I have been considering starting a blog for several months now. I had a vague idea that blogs existed in the world but didn't have much interest in getting the scoop on the hows, whys, wheres, etc. Until Faiqa. If you don't know her then you should.

I used to write all the time. Poems, short stories, blah, blah blah.... I haven't done any writing at all in a very long time. Life gets the way of things more often than not.

The question became, "Do I have anything to say that anyone wants to hear?"
The answer is "Does it matter?"

I always used to write for me, for my personal mental well-being, why not continue? Who says that it has to be read by anyone else? Who says that anybody else has to even like my writing or my thoughts? When did I become a person who cares what other people think anyway?

The things I think about are just that. Things I think about. The idea of being able to write them down for further consideration appeals to me. Even if nobody ever reads them but me.