Motherhood | The Mom with Moxie

GUEST POST: First Comes Love. Then Comes the Carriage.

January 23, 2013 By Bree Leave a Comment

Hey guys! While The Mom with Moxie reflects my POV, 99% of the time, sometimes I like to have guest bloggers come by and write for me. Today I have a guest post from Heather Hopson from Diary of a First Time Mom. This is her testimony of being a single mom. And since I know some of my mama readers are single, I thought this would be a nice change of pace.

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What about Marriage?

My entire life I was told to get married and then have children. I assumed that’s how my future would unfold, especially since I focused more on my education and career than men. Don’t get me wrong. I did date. A lot. I just didn’t settle down and perhaps hit the snooze button on my biological clock. I also focused on my faith and “hoped” to one day abstain.

When some of my friends had children without rings on their fingers, I thought marriage, like a magic wand, would make their problems disappear. I didn’t take into account the logistics needed to get to the altar. At the time, I didn’t think I was pushing my agenda down their throats or judging their decision-making skills. I thought I was being a good friend by giving what I thought to be good advice.

Like the saying goes, you have to walk a mile in someone’s shoes before you can judge them. So when I got pregnant by my boyfriend of nearly three years, I got a pair of size nine’s (flats not heels, because by the third trimester, my ankles were swollen!) I still wanted to get married. I wanted to ignore the red flags and walk down the aisle clutching a bouquet full of doubts. I didn’t want to change or put in additional work. Heck, I was already exhausted, and my iron level dropped daily. I loved the father, and that’s all that mattered, right? Wrong! We broke up during my second trimester. Well, actually, I got “dumped”…over the phone. The weekend of our daughter’s first birthday, he married someone else.

Heartbreak

After many months and many tears, I realized that what may be “ideal” isn’t always realistic. Sometimes you have to make the best out of your situation, even if that means parenting under different roofs and maybe marrying someone else. I had days when I cried, cursed and screamed. I had weeks when I went on and on about my daughter’s father, trying to figure out why he wasn’t the person I wanted him to be and vice versa. I had months feeling as though someone stabbed me in my heart. I also had family and friends who listened, but only to a certain extent. They wouldn’t RSVP to my pity party. They told me the truth even if it opposed my rant of the day. They repeated that I was an excellent mother, a beautiful woman and a child of God.

Forgiveness

Meanwhile, I had to forgive my daughter’s father. And not that, “I forgive you, but I’ll never forget” nonsense, but true forgiveness. The thing about forgiveness is it’s selfish. Doesn’t seem like it, right? But you’re not doing the other person a favor. You’re the one who heals. You’re no longer angry, bitter, confused, depressed, exhausted, furious—you get the point. I can probably come up with an adjective for every letter of the alphabet. Do you still get upset after you forgive someone? Of course you can! But it no longer consumes you. You learn to let ago. I refuse to be one of those women who never gets over an ex.

And don’t just forgive the other person. Forgive yourself! For a long time, I felt embarrassed about not being engaged. I didn’t announce my breakup to anyone other than close friends and family members. I would even hide my ring finger at the grocery store to avoid dirty looks from the people in the frozen food section, I guess. It sounds silly now that I think about it!

I also felt guilty for moving to another state and not raising our daughter in the traditional two-parent home I experienced. (Well, that’s no longer tradition. I’m only one of 13.6 million single parents in the U.S.) Then, I compared myself to the other woman and wondered why she got a rock and I didn’t. I wanted to call her, email her or Facebook stalk her. But I didn’t. How would that change the past? It would hinder my future. I would become vindictive or envious—both words never used to describe me. I realized it didn’t matter if I am better than her, prettier than her, smarter than her or the other way around. In fact, no one is “better” than another human being. It’s about personal preference. My father once told me that love isn’t about a person’s positive characteristics. It’s about the negative ones you can tolerate. Do you love someone enough to see their flaws as beauty marks? Sometimes life doesn’t work out the way you anticipated. And sometimes, it may even give you more than you ever hoped, dreamed or imagined.

The Future

Someone once asked me, “Why are you so afraid of letting go of something which will be replaced with so much more?” Please note, this question was posed years before and not in reference to this subject. Recently, I remembered that conversation. Not in the sense that another man is much more, but in the sense that you must let go of the past and trust God to free up space for something/someone else in your future.

Instead of feeling sorry for myself, I use my energy to focus on my baby. In the big picture, she is what matters most. I am charged with loving her, guiding her, caring for her and protecting her. That allowed me to get over not having an “ideal” life. I even wonder: who says my life isn’t ideal? I’m happy, healthy and blessed to be a mother. My friends and family didn’t judge me, and more importantly, neither did God. After all, He forgave me. It wouldn’t make sense to condemn myself. This is my truth. Although my ex and I are no longer good for each other, we are good for our daughter. My situation isn’t perfect, but the result—my little girl—is.

How have you redefined the definition of family? How has forgiveness helped you heal? What do you do when things don’t work out as planned?

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About the Author

Not long ago, Heather Hopson was an award-winning television host in the Cayman Islands. Today, she’s writing a different kind of story as a new mom at Diary of a First Time Mom. The site includes fabulous features, such as Gaga Giveaways, Mom of the Week, Dating Diary and a Video Diary. You can also keep up with Heather on Facebook and Twitter.

The one where I bare my (mommy) soul.

January 22, 2013 By Bree 4 Comments

frustration

I am at my wits end. No. Scratch that. I passed the ‘wits end’ stage a long time ago. I just don’t know what to do with this boy. I know he knows the right thing to do. What I don’t know is if he doesn’t do it because his mind just won’t let him, or if he just doesn’t give a crap. He’s just six-years-old. Should he really be at the “I don’t give a crap” stage in life, yet?

I don’t know. But, what I do know is that his horrible behavior is putting a strain on everything and everyone around him. He’s like a poison. Toxic. I should feel bad, even thinking these things. But, I don’t. And, they’re true. From the time he wakes up, to the time he goes to sleep, he’s in full-on terror mode.

I know it’s probably our fault, that he’s the way he is. It’s always the parents’ fault, right? But, I can’t fathom what we could’ve done to cause him to behave so badly. According to reports, from our families, both my husband and I were fairly mild-mannered children.

It seems, that with him, things get worse, the older he gets. I thought kids were supposed to grow out of this stuff?

And, nothing we seem to do – in the way of discipline – seems to work. Timeouts, spankings, yelling, talking, punishments, etc. You name it, and we’ve tried it – to no avail. And, we HATE yelling, or any other form of aggressive discipline. But, they’re only so many ineffective timeouts we can take.

We’re running out of options, here. I’m not sure if it’s an attentional thing like ADD, or what. But, something’s got to give.

A while back, Legacy Publishing Company reached out to me, to review their Total Transformation Program. I, of course, jumped at the chance. Because you know… we’re desperate over here. But, when it came in the mail, the kid was in a good place, behavior-wise. So, I kind of forgot about it.

But, now that things have gone to complete and utter poo – again – I’m diving in head first.

You know, for the first time – in a long time – I’m feeling kind of optimistic. It feels good to be proactive – instead of reactive.

I’ll be posting updates, regularly, to let you know how it’s working.

photo source

A letter to my son, on his sixth birthday.

August 10, 2012 By Bree 9 Comments

To my wonderfully awesome son,

It’s hard to believe that six years ago today, you entered this world via emergency c-section. The c-section was totally unexpected, seeing as my entire pregnancy had been so easy.

Although, in hindsight, it’s clear that you were just making your grand entrance – on your terms.

When I was pregnant with you (and probably before that) I remember people saying how fast time flies, when you’re a parent. That one day you’ll look up and your “kids” will be grown, with children of their own. Now, we’re not there yet. But, if the next 20 or so years go by as fast as these last six, it’ll be here before you know it.

It is my hope that when you are older, I can give you this letter so you can see exactly what I see when I look at the six-year-old you.

My sweet, darling, silly, insanely wonderful boy…

You are so much like both me and your father, it’s like God split our personalities 50/50 and poured them into you. You are silly like your daddy, moody like your mommy. Artistic like your daddy, analytic like your mommy.
You love to sing, dance and be the center of attention. As of yesterday, your career ambition was to be a rapper/singer/dancer. Your favorite musicians (and I use the term loosely) are Justin Bieber, Jaden Smith, Mindless Behavior and Willow Smith – who I’m pretty sure you have a crush on.
You’re a flirt to the nth degree. A trait you most definitely got from your father. You love the pretty ladies. Always staring and asking their names. A few times, you’ve even asked if they were married.
You are fun, loud, easily excitable and not-so-easily reigned-in. You’re gross, smelly, sticky and starting to wipe off my kisses. In other words, you are 100 percent B.O.Y.
You are HILARIOUS. Seriously, you are the funniest kid I know. And, your facial expressions are a riot.
You have a wonderfully fantastical imagination. You’re a dog one minute (a black and white husky named Shesta), a cat the next (a tabby named Mittens). Then, the next day, you’re a 13-year-old with 2 – 3 siblings (that I don’t even remember having).
You are inquisitive, smart and so clever – sometimes too clever for MY own good.
You are defiant, willful, spoiled and sometimes downright ornery. Then again, what six-year-old isn’t?
You still refuse to go to sleep by yourself and you sneak into our bed in the middle of the night, almost every night (and you wonder why you have no siblings).
But, even with all crazy “I’m a six-year-old boy” antics, everyday with you has been a blessing.
You, my beautiful boy, are the best thing that has ever happened to your daddy and me. I love you and look forward to seeing what kind of person you grow up to be.