When Daughters Surpass Us...........

I look back at my life as it was nine years ago. And I look at our lives now. Things are different. In good and in bad ways. My parenting style has changed, that's for sure. When my daughter was born, I had visions of the type of mother I'd be. I'd be stern, but fair. I'd be fun, but a disciplinarian as well. I'd be the type of mother that every child wants. I find that I'm not that all the time. I can remember every moment of her birth. I remember the drama surrounding it. I remember watching the news, because as I was in that hospital room birthing our first child, my husband was on his way into Iraq. We were both facing new and scary situations, but we were so far apart. I remember the moment of her birth and how they rushed her to be warmed because she just wasn't responding as fast as they liked and I remember thinking to myself "That's it?". That moment that is supposed to be joy and tears and hope well.... wasn't. I was tired, I was stressed, I was worried and in the midst of all of that, I missed that euphoria. I was so focused on the outside situations that I missed that moment with her. The days after her birth, I tried to recapture that moment and it was...well.... hard. I struggled with almost losing her. I struggled through being a first time mommy. I struggled through trying to hold myself together everyday waiting for that nefarious knock on the door. That moment when they tell you that you'd be alone in this forever. I struggled to hold a crumbling family together. I lost me in the middle of all of it. I missed the moments of just her and I. Where I sat with her and just looked in awe. Where I counted every single little toe and was amazed by the perfection of each one. And, then, there was the dark times. Those times where I felt that my daughter would be better off with anyone else, but me. That I was the wrong algebra in the equation. I was unable to reach out, because I felt that I had to be strong. I had to carry it all.

Those moments passed, of course. As they always do. We gradually worked into a rythem and we gradually got to know eachother away from the chaos. We gained those quiet moments. And I gained a center. My husband returned. Not the same as he was, of course. Older, wiser, harder. In a sense, broken. I failed to understand this. I still struggle. My daughter became my center. She became my world. But, with raising any child, I gained a huge responsibility. With my daughter, that responsibility is to raise a confident, strong, balanced woman. I want her to be the type of woman who doesn't take no for an answer when the world is against her. I want her to love herself and to see how awesome she is. I want her to see her how I see her. Perfect. She is amazing. I sometimes see bits and pieces of me in her or bits and pieces of her dad. But, I also see just her. And that's the pieces I love to see.

I don't know what to say........

Tonight, well, this morning, I was looking through websites trying to find some support sites for my sister-in-law who experienced a horrible loss a couple months ago and in my searching I came across several blogs and postings from parents who had lost their children. I bawled. You don't realize until you're in the middle of their emotions what an absolute horrendous thing it is to live through. The stories were all different, but the grief was the same.

I sit here, with three healthy children and I remember the times that I ignored them when they asked me a question, because I was busy. Or I remember the times I yelled at them for the smallest, stupidest things and I am ashamed. I'm ashamed that at that moment in time I did not value every breath that came out of my child's body. I am ashamed because I have three valuable lives dependent on me and sometimes, I don't take it seriously enough. There's so much more to life than the petty and the small that it's amazing to me how much time we really spend on it. My family is amazing. In every way.


In the face of this, I have a smaller understanding of what my sister-in-law is going through, although, I'll never understand the full picture. And I can appreciate the struggle for what it is. A constant uphill battle. My thoughts are with her and her family. Always.

Mothers are like pennies........some are tarnished and still good, others are just bad.

I read a news story today about a woman who left her one year old son in the bathtub alone, while she was on facebook in the other room. The child of course, drowned and died. I looked at the story and I looked at the picture of the woman and there wasn't any remorse on her face. There wasn't even a hint of sorrow. And I asked myself how could a mother just let her son drown? How could she not value that life? But, not every mother is a good mother. Not every mother is a loving mother. So, of course, that got me thinking........ is every woman programmed to be a mother? Is is something that is inherent in our DNA? Scientifically, I don't know. Culturally and anthropologically, I don't know.

Our world today, is well.... crowded. The advent of cars brought about a new way to expand our population, so of course, we spread out. And when we spread out, we expanded. So, now, our population is huge. But, is it really? Technology also brought about birth control and education. Women are no longer simple breeding machines. And I realize that I am vastly oversimplifying and generalizing. And I'm way off topic. So, back to my original thoughts.

Not every woman is meant to be a mother. So, why are they? I find this thought complex. There is a general attitude that women are simply here to breed children. This thought permeates everyday life. The preaching against birth control, as one. By teaching girls that birth control is wrong, the power and the choice of whether or not to have a child is taken out of their hands. They are now dependent on the will and the actions of the men they are with. Will he use a condom or not? And if he doesn't and she becomes pregnant, now what? Will he stay and be a man? Or will the girl (woman) end up in an impossible situation?

So, then the question becomes can she choose to have the child or not? Well, abortion is murder, right? At least to some moral views. I withhold my opinion for now. So, she is stuck with a pregnancy that she doesn't want and ulitimately a child she doesn't care for. These situations happen all the time. And then, we start seeing stories like the one above. A woman emotionally disconnected enough from her child that she doesn't even care to supervise him in the tub. So what is the solution?

Education, education, education. Wait, let me say it again, education. Subjugating women and judging them for making a decision that is right for them and their lives is wrong. The only way we can fix these problems is education. Our society has become so disconnected from eachother, that we're losing the "clan" mentality. We don't give a shit. Let the single mother live on the streets with her kids. We don't give a fuck. Let the young girl waste all her oppurtunities by getting pregnant and let the boy walk away without consequence. It was her own fault, right? Even though we, as a society, set her up for a fall. She has to deal with her own choices.

We don't give a fuck, right?

Back to the ranting and away from the emotions.............

"Any intelligent fool can make things bigger and more complex... It takes a touch of genius - and a lot of courage to move in the opposite direction."

Albert Einstein


In reading my previous posts, I realize that they all have the same theme. Family dynamics. Most importantly, the lack of family dynamics in my life right now. I'd like to move away from that drama for now.



What I'd really like to talk about is relgion. I don't get it. I understand the appeal of a higher being being responsible for everything in the world. It makes it easier to blame said deity than to actually evaluate human behavior. Humans are complex. And often they are cruel and disgusting. Its easier to say that God, Allah, or whoever you subscribe to, is responsible for the Holocaust, instead of assigning the blame where it really belongs: fear and human nature. Fear is all it took for one man to single handedly manufacture one of the greatest atrocities of our time. But, when we look at religion, where is the difference? Fear leads people to obey a god who will punish you if you don't behave in an exact way.



And I'm not saying that religion is all bad, just mostly. Self accountability shouldn't be dependent on someone or something else. It should always come from you. I find it ironic that murderers, child/wife beaters, and just plain shitty people derive justice for their actions from their deities. Isn't that the opposite of religious teachings?



Reason is what I subscribe to. And reason and logic leave little room for religion. Reasonably and logically speaking, religion is infantile. It tells you what to do, what not to do, how to believe and it controls every aspect of your life. It removes the parts of you that once thought for yourself. It creates conflict and turmoil and yes, drama, where there just doesn't need to be any. It brainwashes you and turns you to what they teach. Hate is at the center of most religions. Although it is disguised as "love". How can you love your neighbor when you spend all of your time judging their lives? How can you embrace your fellow human when you spend all your time hating what they are about?



Religion teaches us to conform. It teaches us that if we are different from others, we are wrong and we are going to hell. Freethinking is discouraged and in this way, we become mindless... well... zombies to put it into perspective. Our way of life is replaced by someone else's version of what is right and ridiculous stories that any sane person would discount become "gospel". And no, I will never believe that a man lived inside a "giant fish" or whale's stomach and survived. Where the hell is the logic in that? And Noah... how big was that ark and how did he gather all of those animals? The bible isn't even written by first hand account, it's seconds and thirds.



It takes a lot more to convince this skeptic. I am not a conformist. I fight against the norms. And I'm happy to be.

Self Reflection....... should be left to mirrors and pools

I've been doing a lot of well..... to use a cheesy cliche... soul searching lately. Events in our family and extended family over the past couple of years have changed my perspective on things, wildly. I know that I am not always an easy person to get along with. I am demanding in my relationships. I expect a lot from people. And at the top of my list is honesty. I admit that I, personally, have not always been honest in the past. I hid what I felt because of the possibility of drama. I went with the flow and in doing this, I got to the point where everything that I was feeling exploded into one big issue. I am trying to move past this point.












Part of this process is airing how I feel about people. Good or bad, ugly or not, I'm telling people what is going on with my feelings. I realize that, in some cases, this isn't going to be well-received. And I don't care. For me, to feel safe in a relationship, I need things to be open. I need communication. What I don't need is the typical two-faced, twisted type of relationship that I've been accepting for so long. And I am not blameless in these relationships, I've played the games. I've fed the drama. And now, I'm done. Equal footing is all that I ask for.









I, am not perfect. Dammit. In all my hopes and dreams as a child and young woman, my life was perfect. My relationships, all went the exact way that I wanted them to. My life moved in one direction and one direction only. I think that as hopeful dreamers, we fail to account for reality. And when that reality bites, it bites hard. My first dose of reality: I can't fix everything. I may try and I may fight, but some things just can't be fixed. In my fantasy, perfect world, my kids have the grandparents I did, they have a supportive family, like I did. But, things can't always be the same. And, I know, I held my grandparents up on a pedestal and expecting others to reach that point is unrealistic. I also know that my idea of a supportive family is somewhat twisted by the way that I grew up. It excludes the daddy part. The most important part of our family.









Because, let's face it, single parenting is not all it's cracked up to be. I always felt like a piece of me was missing. A puzzle that was unfinished. My children, don't. Their dad, is awesome. He's not what I expected, in any way (not that my expectations were high), he's more. His dedication is to us and he shows it in ways that I miss sometimes. But, I'm working on it. This part of my life is more than what I imagined as a young woman.






I guess the moral of my ranting is, I am not perfect person, mother, or wife. I am very demanding, I expect a lot, and I have made mistakes. But, I am done making myself feel like the fault of poor relationships lie solely on my shoulders. It takes two. And I am worth the effort. Because, I'm awesome. 

Honesty............. is it really honest?

I don't get it. Honesty is what everyone expects, right? I expect my children to be honest when I ask them a question and if they're not, I teach them to be honest. I expect honesty in my marriage. I know that I'm the only one for my husband and he knows that he's the only one for me. I know the person that my husband is because we share that and I hope he knows me. What I don't get is the relationships not based on honesty. I don't get the dramatic games of who said what and this person is terrible because they said this and you should never talk to them again. I don't get those relationships. I don't understand being turned away when I lay my honest feelings on the table in hopes of salvaging an already difficult relationship. If you say you love and want to be a part of my life, why is it so hard to have a conversation with me? If the relationship is not important enough to you to be saved, that's a sure way to prove it to me.