You know those FB “On this day” reminders? They can be hilarious or straight depressing.
Yes I love being reminded of when my beasts were just little ones and soft and squishy and stealers of my sleep.
No I don’t need reminded of the bad days, my ex-husband, or even the posts that we’re fake FB happy… I can remember what I was thinking typing them up. Horse shit. Everything is horse shit.
But the other day, this memory popped up. It was both wonderful and humbling.
Me to my big beast- “Hey you, do you know how much I love you?”
Big beast – “Ya, allllll the way to the noon and back. I know. Do you know how much I love you? Allll the way to the sun and back. And the sun is hot. Like super hot. And Its a star. A super hot star. I dunno if night time stars are hot. Becaus its night time. And night time is cold. But anyways, ya I love you a lot. Because you make pancakes for breakfast. Not just cereal. I mean cereal moms are okay. When they’re busy and stuff. And you put cheese on my vegetables sometimes. Which makes them easier to eat. Because they’re kinda gross. Well some of them. Like those pea things? In the wrapper? Pea pods? Ya those. And you dance. A lot. We dance. I like it when you dance. Because you’re a funny dancer. But when you sing… its kind of loud. But that’s okay too. Just not outside. And you let me eat dinner in my underwear. That’s pretty cool. Especially my iron man underwear. So ya, I know mom. And I love you too”.
GAH can you just let the cuteness sink in?!
It was the sweetest response you could ever hope to get from your kiddo. He was four at the time. He’s seven now and is still one of the sweetest, most sincere, and thoughtful human beings I have ever come in contact with. No idea where the hell he gets it from but, I’m not fighting it.
That was three years ago. I was newly separated from my husband and had just moved back to my hometown. I was terrified. Alone. Jobless. Trying to figure out how in the hell I was going to support two kids. I had been a stay at home mom for the last two years. I was humiliated and desperate. And to be completely honest, I missed my damn husband. The only thing I looked forward to was it being an acceptable hour to make a cocktail, and no, there’s no joke in that. I needed something to numb something. I needed to feel less about at least ONE thing in my life. No,it wasn’t healthy. No, I didn’t give a shit.
I remember laughing at the “cereal moms” comment. But also in the same moment realizing that he had no idea how much his life was going to change. I would be working soon and even though there lives had just changed more than they could possibly imagine, it was about to do another 180. When I finally started working again, I was gone from 7 in the morning until 7 at night. My kids ate three meals out of the day at daycare. I wasn’t even a cereal mom at this point.
This isn’t a “my poor kids had such a rough life” post. It’s not. To be quite honest I hated being a stay at home parent. I enjoyed working. Having a part of my life that was mine. My kids were well taken care of and didn’t go without. They, we, were still very fortunate being a single parent household.
What it really is about is, once I started working again, yes the hours SUCKED. Like big time. Lot’s of suckage. SO. MUCH. SUCKAGE. But with that, something happened. I was supporting my household. I was taking care of MY family. My kids did not go without (they weren’t spoiled by any means). I didn’t need to ask for outside help. I was slowly, building my life up on my own, with my own standards, my own agenda, the way that I wanted. After a few years I left that job for one with more flexibility and less in office hours. I’m home before the sun sets. We eat breakfast and dinner at home, together.
I’m slowly working on being home more, working at home. I have Advocare and Blogging to thank for that. But I will always work to some degree. I enjoy it. I refuse to feel guilty for it. No one should ever feel guilty for living a life they’re proud of.
I was finally able to be a cereal mom and let me tell you something, my sons love it just as much as pancakes.
Oh and for the record, I’m a fabulous dancer.
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