Search Results for: kylee

Dear Society, Kylee is NEVER Going to Fit in Your Round Hole and It’s OK!

Dear school teachers, dear school admins, dear society, I get it. She drives me crazy too. But Kylee, my Bug, is never going to fit in your round holes. Don’t force her to conform. She can’t. Although it pains me, I won’t make her. She’s not built like everyone else and that’s what makes her unique. She’s clever, she’s cunning, but she’s not cut from the same cloth that you are. Don’t make her think that she’s anything less because she’s different. She’s not less. She’s different.

Don’t get me wrong, when she’s awake, when she’s making me doubt my parenting skills, I get frustrated too. But then I step back and really look at her. I look deeply into those big blue, knowing, defiant eyes, and I see the spark. When I watch her peacefully sleep, I see her “normal”. And it’s in those moments that I know that my square peg is anything but less. She’s more. More than you’ll ever know because you don’t give her a chance. Give her rote activities and she won’t do well. Challenge her creative side and you’ll surely see her shine. No, she’ll never fit your round hole, but her square peg of a self might just make a difference in this world if you’ll just let her never-easy-to-deal-with self shine. Let my baby shine. Let her be the difficult little thing that she is now because there is amazement in those defiant eyes. They defy the world because the world doesn’t accept the square pegs. Many a square peg has created light, the telephone, and flight. Embrace the square pegs.

Stop worrying about your state’s scores and start worrying about our children. For the first 3 years of her school career, she was in advanced classes. I pulled her. She started to struggle. You know why she struggled? Because she was bored with your state standards. She was bored with your lessons. She was bored with your tests. She was tired of being a square peg that was being shoved into your round holes. I grew tired of it too.

I get it. You’re doing your job. You’re very kind. You want my daughter to conform, to be round. But if you sit down and talk to her, I mean really talk, you’ll understand that you’re making a grievous error. She’s difficult, I know, and I apologize for that. I do mandate that she conforms on a behavioral basis and you’ve all confirmed that she does. But I will not force her to conform just for the sake of testing. I embrace her square personality and I defy you to shove her in your round hole.

So, I guess what I’m trying to say, with this ridiculously long rant, is that although she frustrates me too, I “get” her. I once was that square peg being shoved in that round hole. I didn’t fit. I probably never will. In fact, I don’t want to. I love my rough, square edges, and I love hers. Leave her alone. Let her be different. Different is good. Different is not less. Different is more. She’s more than you acknowledge. She’s more. She’ll always be more. Different. Be frustrated, be annoyed, be angry even, it’s OK. But remember that “different” leads to great things. She’ll be great if we just foster her right to be different. She’s not hurting you, don’t hurt her. Don’t shove her in that round hole. Just don’t.

2020 Word of the Year: Flourish

By Christy 3 Comments

What’s your 2020 word of the year? 2019 was harsh and unkind in our world. In 2020, we choose to FLOURISH! Flourish by definition means to grow or develop in a healthy or vigorous way, especially as the result of a particularly favorable environment.

How did 2019 treat you?

In 2019, I had a year of struggles. I went through a divorce after 16 years of marriage (18 years together), lost touch with loved ones because of the split, had to give up my home, moved miles away, dealt with a teen who wasn’t ready for hormones, let alone a change to her entire life. I even made a huge personal mistake that has been plaguing me (financially and emotionally) throughout the year.

Although I held my ground, I kept my job, I paid the bills (and his), I didn’t flourish…at all. I made some new friends, lost some more, but I made it through…because there’s no other option. It was a bad year. A year of trials, a year of tears, a year of pitfalls, life lessons, and independence.

I survived and rid myself of decades of toxins and abuse, and I raised my daughter in the best way I knew how…with love and as much understanding and empathy as I could muster. I wasn’t necessarily strong though any of this, but there’s something to be said about survival during times of loss and depression, rebirth and growth.

How will you make 2020 great?

For me, 2020 (the year and this new decade) will be a time of promises to myself. If I can’t accept myself, be proud of myself, love myself and what I do, I cannot make others happy, and I cannot flourish. In an effort to stand my ground and follow through with my promises, I’m putting them down here to hold myself accountable. There’s also something to be said about accountability when things don’t seem as “easy” as you’d hoped.

Let my creativity flow for a happier heart! I’ve all but given up on this little speck on the internet. It was a passion project I started years ago as a way to grow, share my knowledge and failures with other parents so that they could hopefully learn from my parental milestones and mistakes (there are many of both). I still feel I have a lot to offer and although this may not be the money maker it once was, it holds so much of my heart so I owe it my time, my love, and I long to share our highs and lows again. I’ve written about 20 posts this year, published maybe one. Time for a change in my strategy again!
Be proud and love myself! Boasting isn’t OK, but neither is allowing yourself to be a doormat, failing to tout your own accomplishments, or letting people know your worth. In 2020, I’m making a promise to be kinder to myself and learn that it’s OK to be proud of all that I’ve accomplished in my life and all that I continue to excel at.
Be a better mother! I’m a good mom, I really am, but in light of the circumstances created by the events of 2019, I’ve leaned more toward friendship and less toward mom. I’ve let things slide that I would have never in the past in an effort to make everyone happy. In doing this, I’ve not encouraged Kylee to flourish in a way that I know she can. She has a new lease on life, a great life without abuse now. I need to encourage her to succeed and sometimes that takes more tough love than I’ve been willing to dole out. I’ll continue to be her friend and show her empathy, however, I promise that I will be a mom again first!
Flourish! I don’t merely have to survive anymore. I need to live again, flourish, and enjoy this new lease on life. A flourish is an extra touch — a trumpet’s ta-ta-da! announcing a king’s entrance, a fancy carving atop an otherwise utilitarian pillar, a wave of a flag, or a cheerleader’s pompom. I have always been – and will continue to be – everyone else’s cheerleader. It’s time I do the same for myself since no one else will and I deserve it!
Live by my own mantra! Throughout 2019, actually throughout the past decade, I’ve been asking myself if I have enough strength to make it through. I’ve let my health decline, both mentally and physically, and sleepless nights and anxiety are a way of life. The truth of the matter is, financially, I’m doing fine; professionally, I’m doing quite well; and personally, I have friends and family in my corner. For just those three factors, I need to remind myself daily that insanity is not an option and I’m not only going to be “just OK”, but rather I will flourish, be content, and finally be happy again!

What is your 2020 word of the year?

So, on this 1st day of January, 2020, these are my promises to me. Happy New Year to one and all! May your year, and decade, be blessed with love, light, and prosperity. This is the year to flourish; seize the opportunity.

Divorce, Denial, Mental Breakdowns

By Christy Leave a Comment

There are many stages one goes through when venturing into a divorce. From relief, to denial, to a nervous breakdown, the emotions run as deep as they would over the death of a loved one. Basically, it’s the same thing. They were in your life every day, they’re gone…every day. There’s a way to eventually make your way back to healing and hope, I know, but I’m not there yet!

From Soulmates to Strangers…

We used to be the life of the party, we used to be the ones who they wished they were. It’s like there’s always an empty space, those memories that nobody can erase. Of how bright we burned, well now it hurts, but it’s true. When they think of me, they think of you.

~ Lady A

Country music is a resounding theme in my life right now. Hell, it always has been so why would things change just because my life is seemingly falling apart around me. Or is it? I just don’t know yet because I haven’t dealt with this whole “divorce” thing yet and I’m not sure I’m ready to. I have small children (OK, they aren’t babies, but have you ever dealt with a family breaking up with a 10 and 12 year old? If not, don’t judge. It’s hard, y’all). I have a feeling this is going to be incredibly hard/emotional for me to write, but I’ve fielded so many questions, mostly out of love and concern, I guess it’s time I write our current chapter. It’s entitled, we didn’t make it and it’s time to cope.

1. Family today, gone tomorrow.

Maybe I was never meant to be married or have kids. I mean, I thought I was. According to this picture, looks like I took the leap when I was 12 (for the record, I was 27 here). I honestly thought I was pretty good at the whole thing. Married, cooking dinner every night, working, taking care of my babies, raising a family in as much peace and harmony as I could manage. But it failed and there I was, alone with two little girls – and I mean little, they were 5 and 1 – all alone. Alone and together. So, maybe I wasn’t meant to be a wife, but I sure as hell was meant to be a mommy and I was damned good at it.

It’s what I hoped and thought anyway. Problem was solved. Never marry again. No more kids. It went like that for some years. Just me and my girls until I met a man and his kids, we all became one, had two more, created a family of eight, and it all fell apart again…16 years later.

So, if I got through it then and started over just fine, why can’t I face it all now? You might be asking yourself that question because I sure as hell know it’s the one I go to bed with on my mind every night.

2. Maybe it hasn’t sunk in.

Moving is hard work, especially with a 10 and 12 year old. I haven’t had time to let this all sink in. You have to get all of your stuff, all of theirs. You need to make sure they have what they need to truly feel as much at home as they can when they’re all but forced out of their own home.

Let’s be clear, people (and here’s a pain point), I was told to stay, keep the kids there, but I needed to be OK if he had a “fuck buddy” in town so he got more “ass” during the week and if I wasn’t OK with that, we weren’t OK. So, we weren’t OK.

So much going on with moving and getting the kids registered for school and acclimated. Maybe I’m just in denial. I don’t know, but those pre-cheer tryouts take a lot of time and this massive budget we’re on…rough and time consuming. So I choose to focus there.

3. Financial Ruins.

Basically…. Send. Money. Now. Please.

We’re pretty much in financial ruins. At least Kylee can still pick flowers for me, because, you know, I still deserve them!

Once upon a time, a once stable household with a healthy savings accounts decided it was OK (well, one of us did, the other conceded because that’s what “we” always did) to pay to bring a million people to our then comfortable (and happy) household for Christmas (more on that later!). We foot the bill, he took the short hours, it hurt us financially, but we would recover. We always did! Of course we did. Until we didn’t.

At the end of this (not so lovely – OK, who am I kidding, it was painful AF!) visit, my “husband” had been convinced that I was a “drain” on him. I frivolously wasted all of HIS HARD-EARNED MONEY (what was that I was making AND saving again?). He was better off without me. This guy was making bank (I wish he shared that bank with me!). He could have anyone and anything he wanted. Then, with the blink of an eye, a wave of an evil wand, he had nothing but an empty house, a paid-off truck, and a bunch of utility bills.

We never recouped those losses, we’re still sharing an account so I can get us out of the hole they created. Our incomes combined. A household full of bills built on love, now two households full of bills built on broken promises, on the same income. Good luck, Charlie!

4. The mid-life crisis mantra.

He said he needs a break.

He needed to start “living my life for me instead of everyone else for a change”. Apparently, he was “working a job I hate just to provide for my family”. He was “living in a house he agreed to help buy only because the family wanted it.” He was basically adulting and apparently, when you hit the mid-life slump, that’s too much pressure. So time for a break (y’all, I can’t make this shit up…wanna see the text messages?).

But let’s be clear…as much as there is no crying in baseball, there is no break taking in marriage. That is a bond, a life-long commitment, and you just can’t take a break and think you’re going to pick up in a year where you left off.

This isn’t high school (middle school?), things don’t work this way. It’s all, or nothing. He chose break, so the kids and I took off to find our something, whatever that might be. And be assured, again, just like baseball, there’s been no crying (openly anyway).

5. No mental breakdown today!

Everyone, being as kind hearted as all of my true friends are (and believe me, you always find out who your friends are during rough times!) is telling me it’s OK to breakdown. Let it out. Have a good cry. Have a pity party even. Just lose a little of my shit for a little while, then pick myself up, dust myself off, and start all over again. But it’s not time for that yet.

I have a 10 and a 12 year old trying to acclimate to new schools, trying to make new friends, trying out for cheer (Bug), and trying to truly fit in this time (Bubby). They have mini meltdowns at least every other day, and they are entitled to those. I need to let them, no, encourage them, to get those feelings out. They left the only school district they’ve ever known, the only town they’ve ever known, and they left upper middle class suburbia for an apartment complex where their mother literally sleeps in a closet and a school full of people they don’t even know. That’s rough, y’all. Their meltdowns first. We have months. I’ll catch up later.

6. Cheers or tears…how are you?

I wish I could give a definitive answer here, but I can’t. Some days, I’m good…like super good and super charged and ready to take on whatever else life has left to throw at me. Others, I’m a little blue. There are days that I worry more than I really do anything else. Some days, just some (mostly at night), a cloud of loneliness falls over me that I never expected. We’d been drifting apart – understandably so since he had turned into an unreasonable oaf who had become angry, bitter, unjust, violent, and impossible to get along with, so I in turn became a bitch box. We were spending time apart – but we always came back to the same house, our house, at the end of the evening and we were always together then.

I can tell you that I don’t jump every time a door slams. I don’t hurt or shake uncontrollably when I hear a loud noise. Wondering “who got hurt” when I hear a thump is now a thing of the past. Things have settled, and for that, I’m grateful.

7. Xmas will suck.

The weirdest part of all of this is that I’m no longer a Christmas person. I no longer believe. I mean, I suppose in the moment, the spirit of the season, I’ll feel some of the magic, but the love I’ve had for this holiday since as long as I can remember is gone.

This past Christmas was miserable. I spent it with a bunch of people who don’t even like each other who were talking about each other – and mostly about me and my kids. It was when my marriage ended. I don’t want to go into any more detail on this because the people who pushed this are dead to me as is the true magic of Christmas. And I’m sad.

Everything’s gonna be alright!

So to everyone who’s been asking (thank you!), we’re basically fine. He’s living his own world (and boy howdy is it a doozy) and we’re living ours. There are ups and downs, mistakes, milestones, triumphs, and choices. But we’re holding our own and that’s all anyone could ask. That’s all I’ve ever asked. Do I wish things could have turned out differently?

You bet your ass!

Do I think everything happens for a reason?

Of course I do.

If you’re a praying person, send some our way. If you just believe in good mojo, we’ll take it. Got heaps of sparkles to spare? Send ’em our way. We’ve got this, but we can use all the help we can get! Muah…much love to all of you for your support.