Mommy Needs A Hug

The swirling, deep blues and yellows of the sky sweep me away from Earth

Rigid black lines surrounding the houses of the village ground me

Their strict brown and white roofs remind me there is more than this sky

The moon shines bright yellow among a sky of stars

Stars muted only by the brilliance of the night sky’s moon

Cascading hills fall behind the village, lit only by the strength of the moon’s light

Surrounded on all sides by dull trees brought to life by their yellow hues, this village

A village completely centered around a towering steeple that becomes one with the sky

Drawn eyes to the village notice windows filled with life despite the darkness of night

One star, brighter than the rest, stands out from the world around it

I feel I have seen this place in my dreams, unreal

The swirling and flowing darkness of two towering cypress trees

They speak of the calm, quiet that only night brings

Whirring of blue-gray wind overhead is the only noise heard throughout the village

Madness. This place isn’t real, it mustn’t be

It’s as if the heavens are opening up and meeting the uppermost point of the church

I feel at peace in this world, this dream world of mine

Gabris, S. (2022)

I wrote this for school, but I like it.

Spring was just beginning, and a light breeze whirred through as a red Dahlia sat budding beneath a pink bloomed Magnolia tree. In the clearing where the Dahlia and Magnolia sat the sound of rushing water could be heard whooshing through. The Dahlia stretched, hopeful as a drizzle promised a fruitful spring growth.

     Rain quickly turned into a Thunderstorm with deep growls of thunder and flashes of lightning mumbling that no flowers would withstand the ferocity of its strength and darkness. Dahlia shivered and withered in fear of the Thunderstorm. “Someone help me! I’m too small to handle this storm!”, yelled the Dahlia.

     Magnolia stretched her branches wide overhead to shield Dahlia from the storm. Defeated by Magnolia’s support to Dahlia, the Thunderstorm shifted away and disappeared, opening the clouds to let the spring sunshine through.

     Dahlia stretched and grew a brilliant display of petals that spring knowing that Magnolia was there to help through any Thunderstorm.

There is no storm that can’t be weathered with support and perseverance.

-written by yours truly for a Literature class but I wanted to share.

I said in the last post that I’m going to use some journal prompts for a while. Today I’m going with 10 things I appreciate about Joe.

1. I appreciate his willingness to be silly with me. We are constantly making jokes and using funny voices with each other. No matter what we are doing we can turn it into something silly and fun. This tends to be how I break the ice when we are arguing and I love that he just goes along with it and it helps to open up a dialogue.
2. I appreciate the love he gives to our children. He losing his temper when he gets overwhelmed, but honestly who doesn’t? He constantly let’s our kids know that he loves them and wants to be around them. He takes the time to play with them while I’m at work and make it meaningful for them.
3. I appreciate his effort in becoming a better husband and father. He is trying to communicate more and evaluate himself so that he knows what his triggers are and how to deal with them. He strives everyday to become better.
4. I appreciate that he tries his best to listen to me. I ramble. A lot of what I say doesn’t make any sense. Still, he sits there and listens to me. He shows interest in what I’m saying. When we are having a disagreement and I bring up my concerns he listens to them and acknowledges them. He’s not one of those guys that just nods his head and acts like he’s listening most of the time. Instead he’s actually trying to listen most of the time and just nodding his head and acting like he’s listening a small percentage of the time.
5. I appreciate that he goes along with every family outing I ask to go on. The first time I suggested that we go pumpkin picking he was very clearly not into it, but he went along anyway. In the end he had a lot of fun. He does this consistently everytime. I want to go to an amusement park, a zoo, an aquarium, for a walk, for a run, to the beach, anything. No matter what it is he goes along with it and makes the best out of it even when the kids are acting crazy.
6. I appreciate that he offers me emotional support in the times I need it most. He’s not great with emotions. He struggles with his own emotions and still hasn’t figured out how to communicate them and decipher them yet. Despite that, when I’m struggling he’s always there for me to lean on. Even if it’s about him he still is there to offer me the emotional support I need. I can’t even count how many times I’ve spiraled out of control into an anxiety attack and frantically cleaned our house and he manages to calm me down and help me communicate what’s actually going on.
7. I appreciate that he tries to help with the house because he knows it overwhelms me. I say try because I’m always like “no you aren’t doing that right” and then in the same breath saying I need help. He tries his very best to help around the house with what I need help with and I can’t ever thank him enough for the housework he does.
8. I appreciate that he quit his job to take care of our kids when they were neglected at daycare. He didn’t have to do that. He really didn’t. He could have had me quit my job. He could have just switched daycares and called it a day. Instead, he saw that even after switching daycares I was anxious and having difficulty trusting anyone else with our kids. He saw the way that I was feeling and stepped up and did what was best for our family. I don’t think there a lot of men that would give up their job and become a stay at home parent. I know he struggled with the idea of giving up his job and not being able to bring any financial help for the family. I know he struggled with the thought of switching the “traditional” gender roles and being the one at home. I know he really struggled with it but he did it anyway for the betterment of our kids.
9. I appreciate that he holds me accountable when I’m being a bitch. I’m just going to leave that at that.
10. I appreciate that above all else he’s my best friend. Sometimes I need him to put on his best friend hat instead of his husband hat and have a heart to heart with me and he does it. Sometimes I need him to be one of the girls and talk about things he probably doesn’t want to talk about. No matter what I need from him, he’s there. He is my best friend in the entire world.

I’ll be entirely honest with you, having to write 10 reasons I appreciate Joe was kind of difficult. Not because I don’t appreciate him, because I do. It was difficult to put into words. I don’t think I usually think about specific reasons why I appreciate him so it was hard to pinpoint exact things that I appreciate him for. I appreciate everything about him though. Even the things I don’t necessarily like about him. All of his strengths and all of his weaknesses together make him who he is and who I want to be with. I appreciate that he is so undeniably himself that no matter what happens he’s just, him. Everything we have been through together has made us both stronger and better. I remember being told that we were too young to get married and he was too immature to be married or be a dad. We’ve grown up together though and I’m so grateful that I got to see our progress and I got to share that with him. I appreciate you Googly Bear. I hope you know that even when I don’t tell you.

I’m going to try something a little different here instead of just going off book and writing about whatever is making me angry or upset when I write. This started off as like a journal for me hoping that someone else could relate. But let’s get down to some things about me that aren’t making me angry or upset. I found some ideas for journal prompts that I’m going to try and build off of one at a time. This time I’m going to focus on love languages. Joseph and I both went through a little phase where we tried to pinpoint our love languages and the kid’s love languages. Let’s jump right in.

My love language is acts of service. I appreciate gifts from people and I like spending quality time, and I really do enjoy it when people have positive words to share with me and tell me I’m doing a good job. However, what really fills my cup is when people help me with things without me having to ask. I have trouble asking for help on my own, and if I have to sit down and go over what I need help with it takes a lot out of me to have to communicate that because it would just be easier if I did it myself. For example, if I’m sitting here thinking about how I have to clean the living room and do the dishes and then Joe does that without prompting just because he knows it needs to be done, that really butters my biscuit. On the flip side, if that stuff needs to get done and everyone just ignores it and walks past it, it feels like a personal attack and completely drains me.

Joe’s love language is tricky for both of us to try and figure out. We both tend to think that his love language is quality time. When we spend time together, or with the kids, with no electronics just genuinely enjoying each other you can see his whole demeanor change. It really puts him in a good mood and he starts smiling from ear to ear and it is so contagious. This is why we tend to lean towards quality time as his love language, but he is a man of mystery that never really learned how to feel his emotions or communicate.

Mark. Oh, my sweet Marky butt. I was once reading the 5 love languages book that directly focuses on children. It said something along the lines of how every child feels all 5 love languages and they all have some kind of connection with gift giving (Chapman, 2012). That seems to check out. Kids love gifts. With that said, I think that Mark heavily resonates with gift giving and words of affirmation. He is always needing to be reassured. This tends to make me question my own parenting and if he knows how much we love him. I feel like maybe we don’t speak his love language and fill his cup as much as he needs. As far as gift giving he loves getting gifts and is always very appreciative in the moment but doesn’t cherish those things like someone whose love language would only be gift giving. If that makes sense.

Rose’s love language is physical touch. She doesn’t do personal space. She loves hugs, snuggles, kisses, or just holding hands. She is her most calm and authentic self after she is met with that kind of affection. When we are not with her she breaks down. So I know I’m saying physical touch but there’s a touch of quality time in there too. I think they kind of go hand in hand, but I’m also not an expert by any means.

Joey is a hard one. How do you pinpoint a love language on a baby? If I had to pick love languages for Joey though I would have to say that currently it’s physical touch and quality time like Rose. He is our shadow. Particularly Joe. He doesn’t leave our sides. If Joe puts him down he loses it. He definitely has a very secure attachment to both myself and Joe. He wants both of us around and he wants us playing with him. He wants to be next to us or in our arms. He doesn’t like to be alone. If he isn’t with Joe or me he’s with Rose, snuggling, or trying to play with Mark. He climbs into bed with the big two every night to give a hug and say goodnight. He really only likes to play if we are playing with him actively. We have to be holding him, sitting with him, giving him our full attention for him to be truly playful and happy.

That about sums it up for us. I find it really helpful to try and reevaluate our families love languages every once in a while so that I can more effectively love them and communicate my needs as well. It’s also pretty difficult right now having two children that want quality time and physical touch because it’s really easy to get “touched out”.

I suggest if you haven’t, you take some time and figure out your own love language. If you know your love language, what is it? Can you pinpoint how you figured out that a particular love language resonates with you? I’m going to cite some resources for anyone whose interested.

Just as a brief recap for anyone not familiar the 5 love languages are:

Quality Time, Physical Touch, Gifts, Words of Affirmation, and Acts of Service.

Resources:

Chapman, G. D., & Campbell, R. (2012). The 5 love languages of children. Northfield Pub.

Chapman, G. D. (2015). The 5 love languages. Northfield Pub.

This is about people who menstruate. If that isn’t you, or makes you uncomfortable, scroll away. Trigger warning: speak of blood and discomfort.

I went a full two years without getting a period. What a glorious time. I was living the fucking life. For anyone wondering “how?!”, not that you would, but if you were. I haven’t had a period since I got pregnant with Joey. Between pregnancy and then breastfeeding I managed to go a full 15 months postpartum without getting the dreaded visit from Aunt Flo. It was great because periods are wack and I’m tired of being punished by the universe for not being pregnant. Why can’t Joe be the one to get the period?

Well anyway, I got it back at 2 years to the day and I’m fucking struggling. I didn’t remember what it was like to have a period and I’m honestly already over it. It is whooping my butt. I’ve been very run down since it started. I slept until 11:30 this morning and still woke up exhausted. Big props to Joe for recognizing that I really needed it and letting me sleep. I appreciate you. I have very little focus and I have been incredibly irritated. Not to mention the cramps.

See I remember my first postpartum period with Mark and Rose to be very uncomfortable and I was waiting this time for the Hell that was the cramping and overall discomfort. When it didn’t come I got a little too used to it. Yesterday I sat down on the toilet to take what seemed like a very familiar period poop. I’m hoping someone will know what I’m talking about when I say that. I didn’t think too much into it though. As I stood up from the toilet, it looked like a murder scene and all I could do to keep myself from screaming was let out a sigh and tell Joe that we needed to go to CVS. I haven’t had period products in the house because I haven’t needed them. Rookie move.

What has been making this particularly bad? I have low iron. I’ve struggled with low iron for a while now, particularly during pregnancy. The hematologist I was going to during my pregnancy wanted me to get my levels tested after my period came back because obviously the blood loss and whatnot with already being on the low end with iron. I’m assuming my iron is low currently because of the overwhelming exhaustion I’m feeling coupled with the headache that just won’t go away. A constant pounding in the center of my noggin that feels like there is not a single thought in it.

I’ve always wondered if one symptom that accompanies my period is felt by other menstruating people as well. My labia get so fucking sore. It feels like someone just straight up punched me in the cooter and it’s just bruised to shit. Anyone else? It’s my tell-tale sign that my period is arriving. Right before it starts my labia feel sore and it lasts like three days and it’s absolutely terrible. Like what do I do? Just ice my labia? How am I supposed to deal with this?

And I know that there are a lot of menstruating people that get terrible cramps to the point that they can’t perform daily functions. I’ve never had them be that bad, but I sympathize with you because my cramps do get pretty bad. I’m lucky enough that I’m not having too much trouble with it right now, but yesterday I couldn’t move for a solid 30 minutes because I was in so much pain.

I’m going to go off on a tangent now on how I think periods are unfair. Why is it that people with a uterus get a period and those fortunate enough to not be born with one never have to experience this? This is such a scam. You get tortured with a period every month for the better part of your life, you have to carry and birth the children (if you have any), and you have to deal with the other issues that accompany that. In addition to all of that, you still have to go to work, be a wife, a mother, a friend, a sister, a daughter, and just function as a human while it’s happening. It’s pretty wack that I have to deal with this and still pay bills and be an adult. Why can’t Joe get a period, or have less useless nipples, or carry a baby? Something! Anything! Give him any of these atrocious side effects of having a uterus. I’m begging the universe at this point to stop. I’m over being an adult woman. Over it. And it’s not even like when you go through menopause it’s any better. Hot flashes?! No thank you. Just let my period go away and leave me alone peacefully. Send me a text when I’m ovulating instead, please. Thanks.

Sincerely,

Struggling.

Our family watched the new Disney movie Encanto for the first time last night and the second time today, and I’ll probably watch it again tonight if I’m honest. I’ve been listening to one song on repeat all day because it’s hitting a little too close to home. This will have spoilers so consider this your one and only spoiler alert. Any other moms that have watched it relate at all?

Let us dissect it a little shall we? First off, I’m obviously not funded by Disney even though that would be an absolute dream. However, I’m not. This is not sponsored I just love this movie. The new-age Disney and Pixar movies are absolute bangers and I’m making an exclusively Disney playlist to jam out to because the songs go harder than anything I listen to. Granted, I listen to a lot of pop cello music so I don’t know if that carries that much weight, but that’s beside the point.

Ok so anyway back to what I’m saying. This movie was really relatable content for a lot of different groups of people. I want to first commend the diversity of the movie. They really showcased how different people of the Hispanic culture can be. Many people have it in their head that if you’re Hispanic you have to look a certain way, but it is so much more diverse than that. Please correct me if I’m wrong, I’m always willing to learn more and am open to criticism on this particular topic.

One particular character I really related to, and that was Luisa. She is this incredibly strong, yet still beautifully elegant woman. I’ve seen a lot of older sisters relating to her character because as an older sister you tend to carry a lot of weight from your family on your shoulders. I, however, related with her from the aspect of a mother, wife, and younger sister. I have spent most of my life trying to live up to the expectations set for me living in the shadow of my sister. She is an incredibly strong, independent, and individualistic person and it has been what seems like an impossible feat to try and be my own person and seen as useful having to follow after all the amazing things she has accomplished before me. As a mother and wife, much like her character, I constantly feel like I have the weight of the world on my shoulders. In her song, she says “I’m pretty sure I’m worthless if I can’t be of service”. I have never related to a lyric in a Disney song more in my life. I find myself time and time again taking on more responsibility within my family structure because I feel like if I don’t, I’m useless. My job, my worth in life, depends on how much I can do for others. If I don’t take care of everyone else, I have no purpose. I feel like without it I’m expendable to everyone.

Another lyric that made me think was “I hide my nerves and it worsens, I worry something is gonna hurt us”. I relate this to my anxiety. I try and hide all of my feelings and it makes my anxiety worse. I’m constantly consumed by the thought that the tiny thing will unravel my family or someone will hurt my children. That’s a lot of weight to carry and not talk about.

It was all around such a relatable, emotional movie for me.

Mirabel didn’t have any special gift like the rest of the family, at least not one that was inherently magical like the others. She was the outlier. The outcast. Nothing she ever did was good enough. The reality of that though was that, it wasn’t just her that wasn’t “good enough”. No one in the family was ever going to live up to Abuela’s expectations of them. It was heart warming and crushing at the same time when they came to the conclusion that all of them were under this crushing weight of Abuela’s expectations and not happy.

If you haven’t watched it yet, go watch it. I think it ranks in my top 2 favorite Disney movies of all time. I think the lessons in this movie are a good learning experience and it is a very emotional film.

I’ve been trying to focus on myself more, without feeling guilty about it. It’s really hard. It’s hard to not feel like there is something else I should be doing. Like playing with the kids, or cleaning the house, or just generally being a more attentive wife and mother. I spent so much time in my life making sure that everyone else’s needs were met that I let my needs and dreams fall to the wayside.

Recently, I had a conversation with an old friend who reminded me of a dream I once had. I wanted to go to Yale and be a journalist. I completely forgot about that until I talked to them. I guess it’s funny how things come full circle like that, in that now I’m writing my own blog. Anyway, I once had this desire to be a writer, and somewhere along the way that got lost. Instead, I focused on everyone else and what would please other people. I’ve spent a lot of my time doing that. Putting work ahead of family, putting family wants and needs ahead of my own etc.

I attended every single family gathering at the expense of my own mental health, no matter how far it was. I spent years not buying myself new clothes so that I could buy the kids new clothes, that if I’m being honest, they didn’t actually need but I thought were cute. I wore the same two pairs of sweatpants in an endless cycle to where when I wore jeans recently my mom was shocked. I had panic attacks spending my own money on things for myself. I once bought a pair of Michael Kors boots for myself as a push present and had a panic attack and cried for hours about how terrible of a wife and mother I was because I could have spent that money on something for Mark or Joe. I never went out alone, not even for a second. If the kids wanted my food I gave it to them. If one of the kids or Joe was hungry and giving up my portion meant that there wasn’t enough for me to eat I wouldn’t think twice about sacrificing it. I stayed late at work to finish work that wasn’t necessary to complete at that moment. I let Joe try and try again at college and tried to motivate him through it while he neglected his schoolwork, tossing aside my own desire to go back to school.

I’ve been trying to focus on myself now. It’s my time to give myself some time. I started college again. I realized that even if Joe was starting college again, I really wanted this for myself. I’m pursuing a degree in Early Childhood Education. I want to be the change that I wish I saw when Mark had his accidents in daycare. I want to help children, and I want to teach.

The past couple of years I’ve bought myself a new pair of Timberlands for Christmas. The first time was difficult. I panicked and thought about returning them. The next time wasn’t as difficult. I loved them and they brought me joy. This past summer I upgraded my whole wardrobe. I had second thoughts, but Joe told me I deserved it. I sat there for hours trying to convince myself I did deserve it and that the kids had everything they needed and more. I still wear my sweatpants, but it’s nice to have clothes that fit my style.

I did a boudoir shoot and a Halloween boudoir mini shoot. It felt great. I got a level of confidence from it that I’m so grateful for. I chopped off all my hair. This was a big one for me. I remember when I first cut my hair short and Joe came home and he was so mad about it. I knew I had wanted to shave my head but kept pushing it off because I wanted Joe to be proud of showing me off. I grew my hair out because it’s what I thought he wanted. When I finally did shave my head I did it for myself and it was liberating. I felt like myself for the first time in a long time. I put off getting tattoos so that Joe could get tattoos or so that the kids could get the newest best toy that they wanted. I finally started getting tattoos again and boy does it feel good.

Now this one is going to sound funny, but I’ll give a little back story. In my PPD group, we had talked about how moms tend to plan their self-care around the big things. We set aside larger chunks of time to get our nails done, or take a long bath, or do other things of that nature. It’s not always about the big things though. We should be taking small bits of time throughout the week to take care of ourselves. I’m trying to adopt that idea a little more. I’ve been going to Wawa a few times a week and getting a drink or a snack for myself and just sitting in the parking lot for 3-5 minutes enjoying what I bought. The first time I did it I got a bunch of snacks to share with Joe and the kids, but I got myself toasted ravioli and I sat in the car and ate them, and I DIDN’T SHARE! It seems silly, but that was such a big thing for me. I always share everything with everyone and to not do that was so refreshing. I fed my body and in turn fed my mind by taking those few minutes to make sure I was taken care of first. It was really nice.

A big one for me right now is realizing that my job is just a job. I don’t know why there’s an expectation that I need to bring my work home or try and forget that I have a family so that I’m a model employee. That’s not realistic. I do have a family, and this is just a job. I will take my kids to their appointments. I will pick my kids up from school. Work should stay at work and I don’t know when it became a thing that we are expected to turn our job into our whole life. It’s a job. It pays the bills and feeds my family, but it doesn’t get to take over my whole life.

There have been some challenges to trying to focus on me. I sometimes feel like a bad person for even needing that time, I sometimes feel like it’s selfish, but I’ve been trying to give myself some grace. Taking care of myself does not make me a bad mom or wife, it makes me human. I’m starting to feel like myself again and that’s great.

First things first, get your mind out of the gutter. The title is funny but that’s not where this is going you dirty-minded little gremlin.

In the past few months, I’ve been thinking about this a lot. It’s something that keeps me awake at night. I’ve had several discussions with Joe about it as well. I know what you’re thinking. It’s cake, isn’t it? While cake does in fact keep me up at night thinking about it, that’s not where this is going. I keep thinking about how badly I feel about how I parented Mark and Rose up until Joey was born. I feel embarrassed about how I parented Mark before Rose was born.

I keep thinking that Mark got the short end of the stick. He was the child that took the brunt of all my parenting mistakes. He was the child that I listened to everyone around me about how I “should” be parenting him instead of how I wanted to parent him. I’m willing to bet there’s a lot of people who can relate to listening to others on how to parent and not using your intuition on the choices you want or need to make in your parenting style.

When Mark was born I got told I shouldn’t let him sleep in the bed with me. I got told that I shouldn’t give him a pacifier. I got told that I shouldn’t breastfeed. I shouldn’t give him formula. “When’s he going to get out of the swaddle? He’s not walking yet? He sticks his tongue out a lot are you sure he’s ok? You should be using baby powder every time you change his diaper. He’s fine he doesn’t need to be on soy formula. Oh wow, he spits up an awful lot! He doesn’t have problems with juice you just don’t want him to have it! He can have some sweets it’s fine!” You get the point. Everything I did with him someone had an opinion on and I always catered to their opinions and ignored that gut feeling that it wasn’t the right way for us.

I was quick to get rid of Mark’s pacifier because I was told he shouldn’t have one still. I diligently placed him in his crib every time he fell asleep so he wouldn’t get “spoiled” by holding him too much and so I absolutely would not bedshare with him. I gave up on breastfeeding to give him formula, and after being told he didn’t need soy I tried him back on regular formula, only for him to end up with the shits again. I rushed him out of a swaddle because I was told I should. I tried giving him juice time and time again only to end up covered in vomit with both of us crying while I cleaned it up. I spanked him when he got older because everyone else’s kids “turned out fine”. It all felt wrong to me though. I spent so much time listening to other people that I feel like I failed him. I made so many mistakes.

At the time I didn’t realize I was making so many mistakes. I thought that everyone had to know what was best because they’d been there so I thought I was doing a great job. Looking back now, I failed him.

When we had Rose I let her have her pacifier for over a year. She loved it! It made her happy and comforted her. I started ignoring some of the feedback I received, and those things I ignored felt so right. We stopped spanking. We didn’t care what anyone said and we started Rose out almost immediately on soy formula. I held her while she napped damn near every single chance I got. I swaddled her until she gave us the cues that she didn’t want or need it anymore. I still feel like I failed her though. Like with Mark, I still listened to some advice. She slept in her crib every single night, and we moved her out of our room around 9 months. I let her cry it out and let me tell you that is the worst feeling in the world and I wish I had never taken that advice. It’s terrible advice. It’s outdated and barbaric and my heart sank every time we let Mark and Rose “cry it out”.

When we had Joey I completely ignored the outside voices. These are MY kids and I will parent the way I feel in my gut is the best for us. I breastfed and I supplemented with SOY formula when I needed to give my nipples a break. I breastfeed in public, and I’ve gone a whole year and I’m so incredibly proud of myself because it’s really fucking hard. We gave him a pacifier if he wanted it and didn’t if he didn’t. Instead of forcing him to take a pacifier he didn’t want, we picked him up and soothed him. We are his only source of comfort and that’s perfectly ok. We rocked him to sleep more times than I can even count and it felt right. When he moved out of his bassinet and stopped getting swaddled we moved him into bed with us, and he still sleeps there, and he sleeps like a rock most nights. We stopped yelling at our kids and we started trying to gentle parent.

We did things so differently this time around than the first two and I feel guilty about it. I feel like I let Mark and Rose down. They didn’t get the parents that Joey got right from the start. Why didn’t they get those parents? Why didn’t I just listen to myself instead of all the noise around me? I wanted to get it right so bad that I didn’t trust myself. The only right way to parent is the way that fits you and your children best. TRUST YOUR OWN GUT! Listen to yourself and what feels right and ignore all those other opinions. And you don’t need to justify to anyone jackshit about how you parent because it’s not their kid. If your kid is healthy and happy they have no business telling you how to parent and you don’t need to explain it to them.

Stay blessed.

Mommyneedsahug over and out!

Recently I shared something on Facebook that I do personally as a parent. I just want to elaborate on it a little bit. Those of you who are friends with me on Facebook probably saw what I posted, or didn’t, I don’t know. Everyone has their own parenting style, no judgement here, this is just something that I personally adamantly believe in.

As a parent, I have chosen to shield my children from any negative thoughts or feelings I might have about a person or a situation. I try my best to keep them away from that kind of negativity. So I’m going to touch on that some more.

I don’t think that it is appropriate to discuss negative things around my children. I want them to form their own thoughts and opinions and not just be a product of what Joe and I think. I want them to break any generational curses that we have and be the people they are meant to be. I don’t want them to develop into people that just know what they heard from their parents and conform to our thoughts and beliefs. I also don’t want them to hear any negativity we have because I want them to have more positivity in their life.

How do I ensure that they are shielded from this negativity I speak of? Well folks, I’ll tell ya. It’s difficult sometimes, but it honestly helps me as well. It makes me calm down a little before I speak. Here’s the low down:

When I am experiences negative feelings, I try and collect myself first. Then if it is something that just has me feeling down I try and remove myself from my children and find an outlet, like writing, to help me get it out. If that doesn’t help and I need to discuss it with someone I will exit my house, the room, whatever it may be, and usually, I’ll call my mom and talk to her about it. If I am having a bout of depression, I will try and channel that into something positive like playing with the kids. If I’m feeling so down that playing with the kids or doing something positive seems impossible, I wrap myself up in my blanket in my room and close the door and take some time to collect myself and think about the immediate thing I need to do to get out of my “funk”. I try and stay in my room when I’m upset so that my kids don’t see me crying, or just sad. It is not their responsibility to comfort me.

When Joseph and I are having disagreements, I calmly ask him if I can speak to him in our bedroom, and then we separate ourselves from the children so they do not hear our disagreements. While disagreements are normal, I don’t believe that they need to see it and potentially think that they did something wrong or did something to cause it. They didn’t, and again, it is not their responsibility to fix the situation or to comfort us.

I do not speak badly about people in front of my children. If I need to vent about a person I either wait until the kids are in bed when I can speak freely (quietly) without the children hearing. OR, Joseph and I go into our bedroom and discuss the situation while the kids play. If neither of those are feasible, the kids go into “quiet time” where they go into their rooms or play together quietly in one of their rooms (they don’t nap anymore so we have “quiet time” everyday instead), and then Joseph and I are free to discuss. The reason I do this is because I don’t think that it is right to speak openly bad things about people in front of them because that skews their view of that person. I want my children to be able to form their own thoughts and opinions on people without seeing what we see. They will see on their own people’s behaviors and words and be able to make their own judgement. It is not my place to paint people in a bad light just so that my kids think they are bad people. This includes talking about ourselves. Little eyes and ears are around and they see and hear the things we say about ourselves. I do not want my children to grow up and think that they are bad for certain things, or their bodies are not the way they should be, just because Joseph and I have insecurities.

Also, we have started trying to practice gentle parenting. Which is very difficult, especially with judgement from other people who think that that is being “soft”. But really what gentle parenting means to me is that you listen to your children’s thoughts and feelings and take them into account, always. No more “seen not heard”. Children are humans too and they will grow up into adults and I want them to be able to recognize their thoughts and feelings and be able to communicate that with people. If we don’t allow that then you end up with people who can’t communicate with their partners down the line and that’s not good for their future partners or friends. If kids see their parents get upset and scream at them then they go into adulthood thinking the way you solve problems is by screaming and yelling, which we all should know by now that it’s not.

Don’t get it twisted though, I am still teaching my children to stick up for themselves. They won’t be anyone’s doormat. They will be kind, but not to a fault.

Children have their own thoughts and feelings and I will always treat my children as such. They deserve that respect from us to have their thoughts and feelings valued.

Doing better so our kids can be better over here.

It’s been so long since I’ve gotten on here. I’ve been doing a lot of soul searching. I’ve had some good, some bad, some indifferent. I’m working on finding myself as a person, as well as finding and bettering myself as a mother. Really trying to discover who I am and reacquainting myself with a piece of me that I never thought I’d find again. This might get a little heavy, who knows? Not me. Without further adieu, ladies and gentleman, her.

When I started this blog it was supposed to be like a diary for me. I was writing in my journal a lot. I was completely lost and writing down all my thoughts as they crossed my mind in my journal as I sat, pregnant and useless, at work. I was using this to get my thoughts out in hopes that it would help me calm down when I needed to. Along the way it has turned into something different. It’s still like a diary to me, but I write a lot less because I started putting my self discovery into action instead of just talk. I don’t get to write my thoughts as much at work, or really even at all. I’ve discovered a lot about myself since I started. And when I started the blog the name “mommy needs a hug” could not have rung more true. And while I still want a hug very frequently, it’s less of a need to keep myself grounded and more just wanted to spend time with my family and have that close knit relationship with my kids and husband.

With that said lets get to the good stuff. My self discovery journey.

It all started on a warm summer day 27 years ago. I made my way into the world and… oh wait, sorry, wrong story. That’s a story for another day.

Over the past few months I have made a lot of realizations about myself which have helped me blossom into the sexy, (more) mentally stable bitch that I am today. Lets all get acquainted. Hello audience I am Sammi, a mother, a wife, a drop dead gorgeous bitch in a kickass body with a whole lot of intelligence and a great imagination who crafts and likes cake. What’s good? I also get beat up by a lot of small creatures so I got that going for me too.

I got to this point where I just couldn’t keep living my life the way that I was living it. I was lost. I didn’t know who I was outside of being a mom and wife and it was killing me. My light was no longer just dimming it was all but burnt out. I spent all this time tending to everyone else. Listening to everyone else vent. Making sure that everyone was fed, clothed, had all they wanted and needed, and more. I was bending over backwards for everyone at home and at work and didn’t know where I fit into my own life anymore. I sat down with Joe several times and told him how I felt. I told him how it wasn’t really fair that I didn’t know who I was at all and didn’t even know what I liked to do but he had all these things he did for himself. I was coming home from work and cooking dinner, doing dishes, taking out trash, feeding the baby, doing laundry and I was burnt out and lost. And thus my journey began.

I guess it really started when I started prioritizing my mental health, but starting to learn how to handle my mental health helped me make some self realizations that started my journey.

At some point in time a switch flipped and I decided to put me first and meet myself again. I started talking about a new wardrobe. I’ve been living in strictly sweatpants for so long that when I put on a pair of jeans my mom said “wow I can’t remember the last time I saw you in jeans”. Like I have this whole style closet in my head but I never bought clothes because I felt like that money needed to go to something else. Every time I thought about buying myself clothes, or shoes, or anything for me I felt guilty and ended up buying close for the kids, or toys for the kids, or something for the house. But I brought it up one day and I started looking at clothes and I got myself some bathing suits. Then I made this whole wish list and Joe bought me the whole thing as a present. He said “you deserve it more than anyone”. And I kept saying “no I don’t why would you do that that money could have gone to so many other things”. I even called my mom and I told her I don’t deserve it why would he do that? She told me I absolutely deserve it and it’s time to make myself a priority. I got the clothes in the mail, tried them on, and I felt good. I felt like…me. My style is like boho, alternative, mom chic. I don’t even know, but I felt like me. Then I looked in the mirror and felt bad because this body didn’t look like what I wanted it to.

Joe and I decided that we were going to get matching rainbow dinosaur tattoos “someday”. Literally just because I saw something on Facebook and we went from there. At some point it turned into a serious thing and alas we now both have rainbow dinosaur tattoos with top hat and mustaches and the pink ink on their scales being named “Ass”. So there’s that. Thank you Carly for putting up with us acting like crazy people and just being ourselves as we were away from our kids for the first time in a long time. I don’t know what was in that ink but MAN it made me feel like a million bucks. I got my smile back. I got my soul back. I was just living a life outside of being completed submerged in motherhood and work.

That was just the beginning. I saw a giveaway for a boudoir shoot. Now I had been debating with myself for months on end about doing a boudoir shoot. I almost booked a mini and then didn’t because I felt like my body wasn’t where I wanted it to be, and I felt like I didn’t deserve to spend money on myself because what kind of mom would I be to spend money on myself? I felt so guilty about potentially booking a boudoir shoot and spending that money on something for me alone. Because if I do buy something for myself usually it’s actually something for the whole family so I don’t feel as bad or have a panic attack about spending money on myself. Anyway, now that I’ve gone on a tangent, back on track. I had reached out previously about a boudoir shoot and backed out, but I had already took that “first step” and gotten the new clothes. So when I saw this giveaway it was like a sign that it was time and I was ready. I didn’t win the giveaway, but I decided to book a shoot anyway. And boy! How empowering! What an amazing experience that I 100 percent suggest every woman, man, genderfluid, anyone do at least once in their life. (Shout out to Boudies by Katiemayclicks for her absolutely amazing work and being such a kind, genuine human being. I will never be able to thank you enough.) It was this like moment of clarity of who I was outside of a mother. I got to see my body as the amazing thing it is. I got to see myself smile a genuine smile for the first time in a really long time.

I’ve been stuck on this post for weeks because right after I started writing I hit a rough patch of life. So in conclusion, I have found a little piece of my personality again. I am not just a mother. I am a complex human being who has wants, needs, a personality. I have a lot more work to do and I hope to get past this Hell soon that just keeps plaguing me. As always, thanks for your support. I had so much more to say but I just can’t do it right now and don’t want to hold off any longer on posting this.