Some Things To Ponder At The Close of Another Week

I had the best conversation with Husband last night. It made me tear-up a little, and boy did I need to hear the things he told me right about then.

I was whining about student loans and the ridiculous price of higher education, and he stopped me in my tracks. He reminded me that I've already got a lot of school under my belt, and if this was what I really wanted, he would do whatever it took to support me and make it happen no matter the cost or struggle -- but if I wanted to just keep doing what I was doing, that was fine too. I told him I was tired of feeling like I'm not contributing enough, and again, he stopped me.

He reminded me that I cook, clean, run errands, pay bills, and make sure the laundry is done for everyone in the house; I administer care and love when needed and make sure everyone is doing what they need to do, when they need to do it; I take care of the little things so no one else has anything to worry about once they're off-the-clock and ready to enjoy some down time; I love and nurture and educate our daughter, and I work my ass off to make something of myself when most people are content to just be blips on the radar. He said he never gave me the credit I deserve, and he was wrong; he never appreciated all I do for not only him, but our daughter, our families, and our friends.

It really threw me for a loop, because admittedly, throughout the "problem years" of our marriage, one of his biggest complaints was that "You think making doodles on the internet is a job?". It always hurt me, because at one point, my "doodles" were paying half of the bills and ALL of the luxuries we enjoyed. I was bringing in over $7k/mo and working 20/hrs a day -- the other four were spent catching up on all the things I didn't get accomplished throughout the day. I slept only when I was sick or delirious, and sometimes I skipped it then (I remember trying to have a conference call laying in the ER with an IV and having the nurses take my phone away because "You can't talk on the phone and get a CT Scan, Mrs. G."). I felt like if that wasn't good enough, nothing I ever did would be good enough.

He used to regulate me when I would get mad at him for no reason out of frustration, stress, and exhaustion. For about a week here and there, he would be Superman. He would make me eat, sleep, and take breaks from work. He would help out with the house and the errands and the kiddo so I could catch a break and relax. There was a point in my career as a WAHM that I had gone over a week without a shower, because I never had the extra time to worry about it. I was too busy doing everything else. He never complained, he just took kiddo for a very long walk around the lake so I could take a shower and have a minute to gather myself. I spent four hours just sitting outside enjoying the warm summer night. I had missed almost every single one since they started. They started in April, and it was the end of July.

But, for the most part, he hated what I did and felt like I wasn't doing enough to help out. He felt like I was just meandering through life, waiting on him to support me so I could dick around on the internet all day. He left everything up to me, and played FFXI like it was his second job. I wasn't feeling appreciated, and we fought constantly because neither one of us were standing behind each other anymore.

He was always my support system. When he got sick, something changed, and it didn't un-change when he was better. I think he just needed some time to live life the way he wanted, but he wasn't exactly "footloose and fancy-free". He had a family to support and a military career in full-bloom. He had people depending on him, and when the military decided to let him go, we moved and he was even more lost. It wasn't exactly the greatest start to our lives, and we had a LOT of huge bumps in the road, but we made do. It was definitely hard, and we definitely almost gave up countless times.

But we didn't. We stuck it out, never giving up, fighting every step of the way. That's the true test of a marriage -- love, COMMITMENT, dedication. Just because the going got tough, we didn't make the choice to abandon everything we had to make things "easier".

Hearing his love and support last night got me thinking about everything we've been through, and where we are today. I'm thankful that he is my "rock" again. I couldn't do what I do without him backing me up. I missed his ever-present enthusiasm for my work and his understanding that it's my dedication that makes it so good. Without support, no one will succeed. There is always a need to hear "You're doing the right thing." and "This is worth it, keep going.".

We both have some pretty big dreams and some pretty big plans. We're going to work together and support each other until they're achieved. That's not something to take for granted, that's for sure. He wants to work towards owning his own business, and I want to get mine back to where it used to be. I want to take on the world and continue to write and love every minute of it; he wants to buy up rental properties and open his own construction company.

These aren't things that are going to come to fruition without ups and downs, but it's nice to know that we won't have to go for them while butting heads and throwing blame. I'm going to make a go at school, and if we just can't do it right now, I'm going to keep doing what I'm doing -- only this time, it's going to be done knowing that I have his support. I'll know that no matter what, he believes in what I'm doing and is thankful for my contribution to this family.

Your Number Come-th Up, Judge-y Parent!

Okay, this is purely a rant blog. It in no way means I think that any one of my friends and fellow bloggers are these types of people. It does mean that others have encountered this shit in real life, away from the internet, and I feel like it needs to be said.. by me.. on this blog. I'm out to get the ones who make us not-so perfect parents feel like a bag of douche for not being as awesome and sun-shiny as they seem to think they are.

Hey! Guess what? You're not perfect and rainbows do not come falling out of your ass every time you fart. I don't like you. Most parents do not like you. Life? Yeah, life doesn't like you, either. No one likes a show-off. Or you. Because you're a fucking tool.

If you are easily offended, don't read this. If you read this and you're like "OMG THAT BITCH IS TALKING ABOUT ME!", you're wrong. I don't know you. This is about the kinds of shit that other parents have given me/others during the course of our lives as parents. Some of this has nothing to do with me, but I'm writing it the way I'm writing it because I'm awesome and I'm dedicated. I never reveal the sources of my inspiration. Get over yourself, most of this shit is hilarious as fuck. Just laugh, dammit!

Aaaaaanyhow, back to my rant. Well, the points of my rant.. Here are some reasons why I don't like you. I also got some pretty great fodder from some not-so amused dads. Apparently other moms are too nice to say mean things. I don't believe in "sticking together" if you can't fucking be nice. Go eat some mushy peas, mean-ass. Here are some letters to mull over while you stuff your judge-y face:

Dear 'Oblivious' Parent,

Is there any reason why you feel more inclined to talk shit about my clothes, my kid's clothes, or how I'm letting my kid/kids play on the playground, than pay attention to your own kid/kids? Because, I just want you to know, your kid has a face full of sand and something that resembles dog shit, and I'm not sure you care at this point. Oh, and while you were letting your kid/kids do shit like that, my kid was perfectly safe and happy and I was probably playing with her or watching her play like a fucking helicopter mom, you accomplished nothing by treating me like I'm on 'American Idol: Parenting Edition'. And your kid ate shit. I hope you get some all over your face because you still have no idea it happened. Like my top? I got it at fucking WALMART.


Dear 'Savvy' Parent,

I like your shoes. Were those on sale for $400 or $900? Oh, mine? I got mine at the fucking Dollar General. They were in the clearance bin for like a buck. With the money I saved, I bought my kid four new outfits, a new pair of shoes, and that bubble bath that costs more than all my beauty supplies combined. She likes it and it makes her smell like Jesus rubbed his awesomeness all over her. No, I don't mind that my shit looks old and ragged, because my kid has the best of everything and I work my fucking face off to make sure she never goes without. I like spending my money on her instead of me; it's the reason I'm a fucking GREAT mom. I may be on the lower-class side of life, but you'd never know that my kid doesn't have rich parents. I'm glad that you have lots of money, but why is your kid wearing Walmart while you wear Gucci? Thanks for making me feel like Parent of the Year. I needed that. My last pair of slacks that are work appropriate just ripped, and I was having a bad day.


Dear 'Awesome-Rack' Parent,

Congratulations! You fed your kid from your/your wife's boobies and not from a bottle. You achieved something so wonderful that the angels cry. Oh, me? Why didn't I breast feed my kid? BECAUSE I FUCKING COULDN'T! Thank you, though, for telling me I'm a terrible, no-good parent, and rubbing the glory of your success in my face. It makes me get this warm and fuzzy feeling deep inside my vag. I tried, and I was really down on myself for two fucking months because I couldn't have that bond with my kid. If you had bothered to ask before you sat on your titty pedestal, you might've saved some face. You just look like an asshole now. And, for the record, we bonded. We bonded the shit out of each other. That kid tells me every single day that I'm her best friend. She also got to bond like Gorilla Glue to her dad. It was awesome. We are awesome. Fuck you.


Dear 'Earth-Friendly' Parent,

I'm glad that you chose to use cloth diapers. That makes me happy for you, and I'm sure that you feel a little more righteous because you saved the fucking tree people or whatever -- awesome. I chose to use the diapers that I can throw away. It's my choice. I had enough shit thrown at me while my kid was in diapers, I didn't feel like dealing with washing them and drying them and wondering if shit was going to be stuck in my washer. Just because YOU did something, does NOT mean the rest of the world has to. Every parent has a choice and your way isn't always the only way. I know you feel this way because you're a martyr and you do so much good with your cloth diapers and your fucking ego, but no. Fuck that. You're not holy, you didn't save the tree people, and your washing machine probably smells funny. There, how do you like MY opinion? If it pisses you off, I did my job. Because you piss me off. A lot.


Dear 'Wow' Parent,

Your kid is not a testament to you. You kid is a kid; a human being. They aren't a prop. If you treat your kid like a fucking accessory, you're an asshole. You have no place to judge me or any other parent. You're the Paris Hilton of parents, and you suck. The end.


Dear 'Psycho Hippie' Parent,

Breast feeding your child when they're in pre-school is just creepy. I'm not doing it and it's not because I'm a bad parent. It's because I talked with my kid's pediatrician and I chose to go with her facts and not my own weird internet research. New age parents confuse me. If our parents fed us real food whenever we were ready, why can't you do that for your kid? You seem to be semi-stable and normal, meaning your parents did a good job with you. Why would you want to do something that isn't healthy for your kid for your own sake? You are also the 'Wow' parent.. making your statement. It's a really messed-up statement and I don't understand it, but it's there. I salute your decision in my own way. All I ask is that you stop telling me what's best for my kid.. because you don't know anything about her. You should also stop being so fucking high and mighty. No one likes people butting-in where they have no business sticking themselves in. I did what was right for my daughter, and she's a healthy, intelligent, well-adjusted little hellion that has gone through a lot in her three years of being alive. I think she's doing fan-fucking-tastic all things considered. If you think she needs formula at three, when it loses all nutritional value between 10-14 months, that's your opinion. Now, please go choke on it. Enjoy your day, you're very rude.



Okay, so the last one is from me.. but whatevs. I know a lot of parents feel like ass when other parents act like they've never had a breakdown, never had to deal with bullshit, never been stressed or tired, or they just have their fucking shit together all the time. I am calling you out, mean parents. STOP BEING SO DAMN AWFUL! Not every parent is the same, much like the children we rear. We all have different ways of coping with things and raising our kids. We were all raised differently. If you can't accept that not everyone is going to be as amazing as you think you are, you're a huge bag of ugly.

POWER TO THE COOL PARENTS!

We have meltdowns, we don't always like our kids even though we love them with every fiber of our being, we do the best we can with what we have, and our kids are the kids everyone wants to have. I love being 'Mommy' to my little tornado. She makes me mad, sad, tired, hyper, cry, smile, laugh, fuss, and amazed every time she comes into a room. I couldn't imagine my life without her in it, and I'm thankful every single day for her. I know I've had some days where I'm like "Baby Jesus, please give me a break!", but everyone has had those days. It's normal. It's called being a fucking parent. Try being a REAL parent sometime, judge-y parents.. you just might find it's a great experience. Also, when you try it and love it, apologize to the parents you've shit on over the years. Make our day.