Just a dream.

Wow. Its been a long while since I actually sat down with the intention of writing something other than a grocery list, or monthly budget. My son is now two years old, and I am currently busier then I thought possible, working, keeping house and raising this wonderful, crazy family that I have.
 But, I feel like its time to start being a ME again. Not just a mom. Not just a wife, or an employee. A human being with separate thoughts, and feelings. *gasp*.

I don't know why the following subject has been coming up so often in my train of thought lately, but I feel like it will just keep bottling up unless I somehow let it out. Maybe immortalizing it in writing will help calm the turbulent waters swaying back and forth in my mind.

I keep thinking about the One that I lost. Often, he enters my dreams, to stay a while. Not in a creepy, cheat on my husband sort of way at all. But he comes to play with my son, or have a beer with my hubby. He sits and talks and laughs with me like we used to do, for hours and hours, instead of sleeping. With that lopsided grin, and quick sense of humor.

And every time I wake up after, I feel this sense of peace envelop me like never before.

I know people have varying beliefs on whether someone who passes away can become another guardian angel. I don't even know what I believe myself when it comes to that. But I do know, that even after all these years, I have a friend who I loved with all of my heart, somewhere up there watching out for me.

It seems like so long ago, I was an awkward 17 year old girl who had never been on a date, or been kissed. I didn't even really know how to talk to guys in a romantic way. Hell, half the time I couldn't even talk like a normal human being! But, for some reason he liked me. He liked my dreams, and my ambitions. He thought I was worth the time and effort to get to know, and understand. We laughed, and cried, joked and ( attempted) to flirt. It was magical in my eyes.

There was music, always. And the baring of souls. He was one of the best friends I had ever encountered in my life. He used to love making me blush by telling me about how he was going to dance with me at his best friends wedding, and kiss me under the stars. I brushed in off as a silly guy trying to get a rise out of a shy girl.

Then came the day, that he told me he was falling in love with me. A more earth shattering sentence had never been uttered in my presence before. How in the hell had I managed to score this??? I was speechless.
And he just laughed, a sweet, serene sound amidst the hurricane that was going on in my head. He had to go, they were doing training that day. He promised to talk to me the next day, to see if I had my wits about me enough to respond.

I went to bed that night, giddy and elated, wondering how I truly felt, enjoying the buzz from this "first love".
Then came the phone call.

It was all a blur. Something had happened, it didn't look great. Friendly fire from the live fire training had somehow managed to hit just under where his helmet rested. Hitting just right. There was a little time after that, although not much and not lucid. Just enough for whispers of prayers to fly out into the night.

I didn't eat. I didn't sleep. I hardly had an actually thought. I remember thinking how it was crazy to be that numb.

My mom, trying to keep my spirits up, decided we needed an outing. That's what eventually did me in.

The song he had given me, one I had never in my life heard before, started playing in the store. And I knew.

The phone ringing just as I got home didn't surprise me. I started at his cousins number, not needing to hear the words, because I already knew. It went to voicemail, and then they called again. I picked up that time.

I sat on my porch step for hours. Not shedding a tear, not having any sort of lucid thoughts. Just existing.

I was alone that next week, my mom had to go on a business trip and Id be holding down the fort myself. I was fine with that. Never one to be comfortable with showing too much emotion in front of others. She was gone an hour before I broke.

Falling face down on the floor, I cried like my soul had been ripped in two. I felt every single twinge of pain possible that could emanate from a broken heart. The numbness and shock had worn off, and I was completely broken.

Fast forward a few months. His family and I became closer. We grieved together, and loved together, and ultimately learned how to laugh together again. He helped carve them into my heart, a more permanent love then any friendship could ever be called.

Every major life decision, every heartbreak, and triumph since, I feel him. I see him in my dreams, urging me to go on. To never go back to that sad, self harming little girl.

I don't grieve the lost love, or the possible romance we could have had. I don't think it was ever really about that. I think he was in my life to lead me to others. Friends I will never let go of, the boy next door who held my had when I was sad. The first one I told, and cried in front of, who would ultimately turn out to be the father of my child. The child who doctors told me Id never carry, yet He said would happen one day.

We were never perfect people, but he was the perfect one for me at that time. My light in a darkness I thought Id never escape. And I thank God for leading my soldier to me every day.

The modest beginnings of insta-mom.

I knew motherhood was going to come at me. guns a blazin, but I had no idea it was gonna be a damn firing squad! Wheres my cigarette and blindfold?

So, I have to start off by saying, these last few months have been the most draining, fun, enfuriating, and love filled days of my entire life. But sometimes, I cant help but feel like I am the Peter parker of motherhood. One day Im happy and pregnant, the next I am bringing a baby to a completely EMPTY house, livin with baby daddy on our own for the first time, and then as if by some magical force, POOF! Two more kiddos added to the mix. Thats a heck of a lot of life changes in a span of not even enough time for the stretch marks to start fading.

I feel some sort of understanding and empathy for octo-mom now. Its like I had triplets, except they are all a year apart. These guys are still learnin the basics of being little humans, and all STILL IN DIAPERS. My life is one big feed, clean, change diapers, feed again kind of cycle. Times 3.

Most moms are eased into motherhood with their first born. They slowly learn how to adapt and proceed  to the next step. But thats not how I roll. Im learning how to potty train all in the same week Im learning how to properly wrap up a diaper to minimize blow out-age. My first born is learning how to smile, while my oldest is in his terrible twos, Learning how to sneak into my bedroom, open up 50-kagillion windows on my computer, all while simultaneously spilling apple juice on my bed, UNDER the covers, and bilssfully yelling NOOOOOO at the top of his lungs when I ask him to stop.

Oh. And then, there is the girl. The sweet, beautiful little angel girl. Until you get her angry that is. Then you get a cross between a cute little blonde daughter, and an angry, slightly strangled seagull who somehow managed to swallow a car alarm. It starts off with a " Eeeeeek-squak-rowwww-roww-WwwwwaaaaahhhhHHHHHHH..." and progresses from there. This chicks got some lungs on her.

Oh, and the little one isnt innocent at the least. Nope, he is the one who wakes mommy up at night howling, til I walk in and start rocking/soothing him. At which time he either rips one or pukes right down my shirt, which results in a fit of laughter and the almost immediate ability to fall back asleep, while I lay awake and wonder how this mini-human already has so much of his fathers sense of humor. And how am I gonna survive with another mini-nick running around.

By 3 a.m. Im usually exhausted, and ready to gauge my eyes out with a rusty spork, but then it hits me... Im a MOM.

This journey is amazing. These kiddos are pure entertainment value, and even at their most rotten, they are my heart. I love this crazy crash course I took into motherhood. I love all the shifts and changes, and I got this, I can do it.

I might have a few minor melt-downs ( usually involving me sitting in the bedroom clutching a chocolate chip cookie, and snarling at anyone who comes close to the door) But, thats okay. Because the next time I have a horrific moment, where I wonder if that was really chocolate I just licked off my wrist, or kid poop, I will remember that its all a part of motherhood.

And I freaking love it.

Look what were growing...

I came to the realization today, that
I am not really only carrying a child,
or planning a wedding,
I am growing a FAMILY.
By this time next year,
I will be married to my bestest friend...
my knight in shining armor,
my fairy tale.
I will have carried, and begun raising,
MY son.
And I will be responsible for helping raise a son and a
daughter, who I just so happened to luck into.
I will be a wife,a mother, a step mom
and a woman of God.
I will have everything I have ever dreamed of. <3

Can you hear me now?

Okay, I am going to try very hard not to turn this post into a hormonal rant, because I did that a few days ago while writing a post, and WHOA buddy, it was literally borderline evil. Talking about finally having a guy with a penis that works among other various man-bashing statements, but honestly, if I spoke out with that much brutality Im sure I would never hear the end of it from a few people out there I know. SO, gonna take a deep breath and eat a few chocolate cookies so Im not just psycho-bitchy mama here. :)

What I would like to talk about today though, is people not taking the time to rememeber that you exist. I really honestly dont know what happened after my divorce.. I mean, your husband decides to stop loving you and all of the sudden all the friends ( with the exception of two or three AMAZING ones) decide they are going to blissfully turn their backs and decide to act like you never existed. If these people were trying to "punish" me for not living up to the perfect standard they had set, then It worked. Im still stinging from that one. Not only did I have the rug torn out from under me in the worst possible way, but for the most part every single person that was there, and KNEW how much pain I was in during my marriage, turned their back. I tried to be understanding or ignorant of the situation for a long while, but now all I want to say, is karma is a B*tch suckas. Oh yeah, you know that eventually its going to turn around on ya, thats why whenever you see me or hear about me you act like your ashamed. Its very deserved though, and for the first time ever, I wont be handing any more sympathy out. Sorry. ( not really. Bitches.).

And the other thing thats been bugging me, the people who think I should just shut up and be over things. Easy for you to say when you have NO idea how much hurt I went through, and how drastically my life changed in the matter of just a few days. Its not like Im still mourning getting that loser I was married to out of my life, because a girl can only be lied to and munipulated so much before what you deal with just turns pathetic. But it hasent even been a year... you tried to make me feel guilty for still crying not even a month into it, thats a bit harsh. See, theres this thing, called empathy. Look it up.

Now, I know that I have so much more to look forward to in the future, but I cant help but feel like Im starting my entire life over again from scratch. And thats scary! I mean, to have gone through all I have in my life, Id either HAVE to be a tough broad, or a complete basket case, and seeing as the nice men with the pretty white coat havent carried me off yet, I have to have some sort of a backbone working for me, But jeezzzzzz. Im a 22 year old divorced, unmarried pregnant woman who is still trying to figure all the details out for taking care of herself in the short ammount of time i have until my child comes. Holy crap. Its insane, and for the most part, Im currently doing most of this alone. So, people, if you see someone having a hard time, or struggling a little, cut them a little slack! One of these days its going to be you in pain, and I gurantee you, the one or two people who stand beside you, will truly be the ones you bring you back to life. Just remember that.

What a beautiful concept(ion)

Let me start off by saying, this baby was, for SURE a giant surprise. Among all the jumbled mess of doctors appointments, and bad news, and confusion and genuinely trying to practice safe sex, some how this baby just decided to beat all the odds and exist despite what every one else thought was possible!
 I am so blessed that somewhere along the line, I did something good enough to deserve realizing my biggest dream. Becoming a biological mother to a baby that I get to carry and hold from the very begining.
 Now, I will admit that my timing is really not the best of the best right now. Its not like I was trying to conceive, and although Im ecstatic , I am also a little un-prepared and basically, scared shit-less. This wasent exactly how my perfect plan was supposed to go, ya know. But then again, what else in my life has gone according to any plan? Why should I expect my child to differ from what has become a crazy random routine?

The one thing that does dissapoint me though, is the lack of support I seem to be getting from those I believed were closest to me. I guess I always thought that, no matter what, a baby is the worlds biggest blessing. And just because my timing is off, there is no reason to believe I will be a bad mom. I already view myself as a mom, I love and cherish my boyfriends kids as if they are my own, and I would do anything in my power to make their life as happy and complete as I possibly can. And the very SECOND I conceived, I became a MOM. And the minute I found out I was pregnant, my whole goal in life has shifted to providing love and care for my baby, and all the children that will be a large part of my life.

 I know for a fact that this baby was sent to me for a specific reason, and that I am meant to protect and love him or her to the best of my human ability. And all the people who doubt me or have no faith in that fact, sit back and relax. I will be proving you wrong, and my children will end up as happy as possible. I guarantee it.

If I hear one more man tell me that Im his dream girl, Im going to kick him in the nuts and shave my head bald.

If there is one thing I have learned in the short time Ive been dating ( and subsiquently marrying and divorcing ) guys, its that the ones that were attracted to me had impossible stardards for me to try and meet. I was always the "dream woman" and I basically killed myself trying to fill the proverbial twelve inch stillettos they laid in front of me.
You have the guys that want you to be their trophy, and the ones who want you to be their mommy-replacement. Oh, and my personal fav, the ones that need YOU to basically be the man in the relationship, make all the decisions and tell them every move they are supposed to make. All while cooking and cleaning and staying thin, and keeping your opinions to yourself and basically molding yourself to this image of perfection they have in their heads.
 Then comes the boom. The few extra pounds you pack on after a life shattering event, followed by the ups and downs that coordinate with being told your not good enough, smart enough, sweet enough, or sexy enough to be worth any time.  How wonderful of another human being to treat you like that after lying with every other word they said to you right?
 But you know you do what you follow that up with? You lay on the ground gasping for air like you did when you were a kid and fell out of a tree or something, and it knocks the air out of you and you feel like your dying a bit. Then,  you let yourself feel the pain, thats so intense it feels like your heart is being tazed  and poked repeatedly with a red hot cattle prod, then you stand up, and you find the strength to walk away.
 It takes more strength to walk away from a munipulative relationship then it does to stay and pretend everything is okay.
But I think the deepest measure of strength is to raise up the good 'ol one finger salute to all the people who try to pidgeon hole you into any kind of stereotype. I am not perfect, and I am not a dream girl. I can not live up to the fantasy you created in your head when you were home alone and bored, but I can promise you that I will always, from this point on, be myself. And that, my friend, is the best your gonna get. :)

So, thats a small glimpse into my past. Now, I sit here a 22 year old divorcee, with a wonderful new boyfriend who loves me more then I thought a guy could. My life is a little topsy turvy, and Im eleven weeks pregnant ( which is a whole other blog post) but Im at peace with it all. I know its going to be a rough road, but the glory of being pounded on again and again, is that it leaves your skin a hell of a lot tougher then it was before. So, yeah, I can handle this, and all the haters are doing is giving me the determination to prove it. :)