Tag Archives: single mom

It’s My Anniversary…But Before We Celebrate

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Today officially marks my one year anniversary as a single parent. Not quite sure this is something to celebrate but it is what it is…and I’m marking this occasion because I’m proud of myself for overcoming (more on that later). To give you all some background a year ago yesterday I sent my son’s paternal grandmother and e-vite for his upcoming baptism. She didn’t respond on that but on Wednesday….my how the shit hit the fan. So I’m at work and around noon I receive a Facebook message from her stating “her son says we took a DNA test and the baby isn’t his.” Um what?!?!? Like an idiot I responded to her message and told her that he signed the birth certificate, I’d send her a screenshot of it when I got home…because she needed to know I’m no liar then told her I wasn’t trying to force any interaction. However seeing as how my son shares their last name I thought it would be cool to have both sides of my son’s family present at his baptism. I felt so sick. I absolutely couldn’t believe I was going through this, I couldn’t believe she sent me that message. This was the beginning of a slow and painful emotional death-unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. So I called him…..and of course he didn’t answer so I went off via voicemail. I told him what happened and how his mother told me he told her our son wasn’t his….and hurled a million insults ranging from “he’s dead to me; to how could you do this to us; to you’re a deadbeat ass father; lying piece of shit” and honestly those are just the insults I remember hurling at him via voicemail. Then he called back…

By that time I was no longer on my lunch break and couldn’t respond to him, but I’ll tell you this he didn’t leave a voicemail, didn’t texts, nor did he call my work phone. In my distraught mind he didn’t try to contact me more than once because everything she said was true. Before I take a deep dive into our phone call later that night and his lack of an explanation I know you’re wondering what made me believe her? Why was her story so believable before I even talked to him…..

It’s simple, her story was believable because it matched his (in)actions. When I first told him I was pregnant he was not happy. One, because we found out so late(31 weeks and 1 day when I found out), and as he said “there’s nothing we can do about it now” (ie…it’s too late for an abortion). I specifically asked him that night “are you going to be apart of our son’s life or will I be doing this on my own?” He told me he didn’t like the circumstances, we weren’t ready but he was going to be right there every step of the way. Even though he was visibly shook I still believed him. He came to exactly ONE of my prenatal appointments in spite of the fact that I allowed him to pick the days (he knew what days were free on his schedule so he knew if he could make it or not). Next, he skipped the maternity shoot. I’m a first time mom, and yes I’m scared out of my mind about having 6-8 weeks to prepare for a WHOLE BABY but the maternity shoot was one thing that sort of calmed me down. He already had a child, a daughter and I was bringing his first son into the world, I figured he’d want to be there for the shoot but um no. Baby shower!! Another stressful event…more planning….more stress and headaches but once the day came it was really fun and I was humbled to be around people who loved me enough to buy my baby gifts….and who were genuinely happy to see me pregnant. I knew his parents weren’t coming because supposedly they were going to be out of town that weekend but none of his family came…..no brothers…no cousins…..not even him. He supposedly took off work then “got called in at the last minute because someone got hurt”. Technically he took the joy out of the baby shower, I sat there trying to fake happy but really pissed because at the last minute he told me he couldn’t come…to our baby shower…..OUR shower…..everything had both our names on it. Yup, let that marinate for a moment.

He missed our son’s birth….(yes, let that marinate as well). He came to the hospital before I had him but since he started a new job that day and orientation was at 10am he left for orientation. Realistically since he kept up with the progress of everything I figured he was coming back after orientation was over, however I was wrong!!! He missed the birth; he did come early the next morning to sign the birth certificate and yes he left about 1pm to pick up his daughter from school. Before you ask no he didn’t bring her back to meet her brother; yes I was a fool and thought he would. My son and I went home the next day and he didn’t come visit. Actually my son was 10 days old before he saw his father again….work schedule….it was mandatory overtime at Amazon because you know…holiday season. Did I mention my son was 10 days old on Thanksgiving? Yup..and no he didn’t invite us to have dinner with his family; he didn’t bring them over to see the baby when he came; he didn’t take pictures of him in his little my first thanksgiving outfit…nothing. He stayed maybe 90 minutes so I couldn’t complain that he didn’t come over then left for work. My son is almost 2 and he’s not once been with us to a doctor’s appointment…not his very first appointment, and not his circumcision. Didn’t call to check on him that day…guys this is only the first month of life. I’m totally sure you understand why his mom’s statement was so believable. I don’t need to continue running down the list of “donts, didnts, and missed events.

Now that you understand why I believed her and called him going off let’s get back to the story at hand. He and I finally talked that night and he told me that he doesn’t know why she said that. He never told her that and he hadn’t talked to her yet to find out why she said that to me. However, he had a serious attitude about the things I said to him, he didn’t appreciate me jumping to conclusions as he put it without talking to him first, and my personal favorite his feelings were hurt because I told him he was dead to me. I didn’t care that he was hurt I wanted him to feel the same pain I felt. And I told him I’d apologize for my words if he apologized for her actions and checked her. A year later and he still refuses to apologize for the lie that was told because in his illustrious words “ he didn’t say that.”

I went to bed pissed off, hurt, infuriated, crushed, emotionally drained….and with nothing resolved. I made myself sleep because I had to work in the morning. No matter how much I wanted to call off and stay at home in a shell I couldn’t. I woke up the next morning and got ready for work, kissed my baby on the way out, got in my car and called his father. He picked up, told me he’d talked to his mother and she was confused. Bruh, confused about what? I’m not some random chick you met . We’ve been dating on and off since we were 14 what do you mean she was confused?!?! I never really got an answer for that, but it pissed me off even more. Confused I asked, how so? Are you messing around with someone else who is or was supposedly pregnant? Was the ex that popped up at your house a few months prior to all of this pregnant? Had she (whoever she was) already gave birth? Is that what that incident was about and you didn’t wanna tell me? I never got answers, only more reason to be pissed. The silence allowed me to think what I wanted to and fill in the blanks how I saw fit. That did nothing more than piss me off!! I thought men fought for the women they loved? I thought men at least tried to lie to you, but you’re just silent and when you do speak you’re talking about how hurt you are?!?! Hmmm no,this is not about how hurt you are. Your hurt doesn’t matter. At this point I was screaming at him so badly until I just hung the phone up. There was nothing more I could say. I went to work, acted like nothin happened, held it together but cried like a baby as soon as I clocked out.

I went home to do what I should’ve done the previous day…..pray. Just pray and turn all my grief, frustration, anger and fear over to God. Once I really prayed I felt better but ai didn’t feel better (not sure if that makes sense to anyone). God told me that He’d be with me and guide me through this but I had to do some things: I needed to apologize to my child’s father…..I couldn’t expect him to apologize to me if I was unwilling to do the same. Secondly, I was to forgive my child’s father and pray for him….(nowhere near easy, and may have been the hardest thing He asked me to do, and finally I was to seek counseling. 

When you’re at such a terrible place in your life and you pray to God for answers, don’t get answers(even to this date I have no clue why I had to go through this) but instead He gives you actions to take toward your own healing….you just have to do it. Irregardless of how I felt I called him Friday morning and apologized for call him him a deadbeat and saying he was dead to me. I meant the apology for as much as I could at the time. No, he has NEVER apologized to me and one hear later I am ok with this. Forgiveness…..(takes deep breath) yes in the same voicemail I left apologizing I also told him that as forgive him. That’s….well….really difficult. It’s not something you can say once and it be done. Forgiving him for what he did is a DAILY decision and it’s never easy. At some point I had to forgive his mother as well, you may not think I should’ve been pissed with her in the beginning but I was and that’s not something aim going to explain. Therapy, well that was for me. It’s too ensure that I’m not passively transferring any ill feelings to my son; it’s to make sure I’m not afraid to love again; and it’s to help me navigate filling that void-after all this was a 19 year relationship that was abruptly done. 

I sought after and found a therapist my insurance would cover…and allowed the healing to begin. Now if you know me you know in my mind therapy and healing was going to be quick… couldn’t take more than 8 weeks right?!? Wrong!!!! While I’m at peace with my life, and in a much better place emotionally and mentally I am still seeing my therapist….but let’s work our way up to that.

In the last voicemail I left my son’s father( 2 days before baptism) I told him that I still  wanted him to be apart of our child’s life…I wasn’t looking for a relationship or even friendship out of him but our son needed him and as long as the conversation was about our son I’d be professional. I later found out even my extending to be professional just wasn’t going to work…but we’ll get there too.

He missed the baptism, and a month later missed our son’s first birthday party. In a conversation we had later he told me that he didn’t remember the details since I’d deleted the invites out of his calendar. This was not a good defense as his mother had e-vites for BOTH events. He face timed the day before and on our son’s birthday and we argued about that. Obviously I knew he wasn’t going to spend time with our son for Thanksgiving but we managed to work something out for Christmas. He was going to give me money to help purchase presents( notice that’s the first time I mentioned he gave money for something) and he’d come over on Christmas Eve to watch our son open presents. Hmmmm, good thing I went with my gut and didn’t keep our son up to wait for him because he never showed. When I texted days later and asked what happened he responded “ he had to work late” and texting me to inform me of that never crossed his mind. 

We argued on New Years; we argued in January when he FaceTimed my son; we argued in February via text….totally my fault. I’m not sure why I tried treating him as an equal co parent when I switched daycare providers for my son. The pattern was anytime he called, texted, or face timed we argued. Guys, this was so exhausting. Even my therapist asked why I continued the pattern with him when he wasn’t doing anything on a consistent basis. My response without hesitation was always “ I told him we’d co parent” so I have to deal with this for my son. One day in May after having yet another argument about only God knows what(for some reason I called him about the baby having an allergic reaction and to let him know what was going on) I was done. OVER IT!!!! 

ENTER PEACE, TRIUMPH AND CELEBRATION!!!

The Saga Concludes….

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Two weeks later and we’re done day training. Honestly we finished day training a little over a week ago. It took us 7 days to get the basics down. I am extremely proud of my little man AND myself because potty training is no easy task!!! While I titled this blog “The Saga Concludes” it’s really not over….well it is but it isn’t as I’m still nap and night time training.

Night time training is a tad more challenging for us for several reasons: hens younger so his bladder control may or may not be fully developed; we both hate being awaken from our sleep; and he is NOT feeling the last call for milk two hours before bedtime lolbvvs! As it stands we wake up twice a night to pee. He absolutely hates these wake up times. He’s cranky, doesn’t want to get up, fights to stay asleep, and sometimes doesn’t pee out of rebellion. It is on these nights that we usually have an accident. Our nights are usually dry if he pees during both night wakings. Dry nights keep me encouraged. We also have dry nap times at home……daycare is another story.

Speaking of daycare, the morning leading into daycare I woke up hysterical. I legit had 101 reasons why my son shouldn’t return to daycare newly potty trained(remember we started this journey during his daycare break) and a list of things that could go wrong. I couldn’t get back to sleep after waking up panicking so I decided to pack his little book bag. I sent him with 3 changes of clothes, 3 pairs of training underwear (only to be used at nap time) and of course a bag for all his dirty clothes. At that point I told my self to pull it together because he had to go! Oh, I also got him the potty watch to help him remember to go pee while playing. Um, it wasn’t one of the nightmares played out in my mind but it was pretty either. Turns out his daycare teacher isn’t used to potty trained not quite 2 year olds. She didn’t show him where the potty was, didn’t watch for his signals, didn’t bring the potty closer to him…..just didn’t . After talking with the daycare owner we decided to move him to the preschool section of the daycare as that instructor not only knows how to deal with potty trained toddlers but she trains them too! Once the move was made he went down to no accidents at daycare! Go mommy’s big boy!! Our accidents occurred in strange situations……aka places he wasn’t used to pottying in. Once I noticed that I got him a travel potty all was right with the world again.

Now I don’t want you to read this and think once he learned the skills everything has been smooth like skippy because that is not the case. We are currently in the “pee pee rebellion”. This last weekend he reverted back to 1-2 accidents a day but that cleared up once we got to daycare on Monday. I’m not particularly sure why he rebelled but I’m hoping he”s done with said rebellion.

In closing this series isn’t to brag on having a potty trained child, or to gloat about how much I’m saving it’s to let you know that you have support! The blog series serves to let you know this shit ain’t easy(by no stretch of the imagination), it’s to let you know my struggles, to allow you to laugh at my bloopers and to realize you’re not alone on the island of potty training. It’s to push you to stick this out and finish the job because both you and your little person are worth it. Good luck mama!!!

The Potty Training Saga Continues

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The last day I blogged about my adventures with this whole potty training thing was on Day 2 when I was at wits end and ready to quit. Self preservation….kid preservation….sanity lol! Ok, so I obtained and listened to the audible of Oh Crap Potty Training that night. Someone needed to talk me off the ledge and this book did the trick. Ever binge listened to anything lol? That was me, Tuesday night I was committed to finishing this 8.5 hr book…and I did too! I got a quick nap before I was set to start Wednesday with the kid, I game planned with my mom, I closed off my calendar for the next few days….it was my will versus his will and dang it I wasn’t about to lose. The kid is ready and I know it!!!Day 3………I treated it as Day 1(sorta) implementing all my new techniques from Oh Crap Potty Training. Let’s do this! I have to be very honest Day 3 was t bad at all. We had more makes then misses, the misses he did have we knew it was more behavioral than cluelessness and realistically one good accident that we totally jumped down his throat about and even that straightened up. Day 3 was SSSOOOOO good I even put a pair of shorts on him and let him go commando with me on a Target drive up run. Well, my baby, pardon me my big boy stayed dry. Now let’s have a moment of honesty, he did have an accident on the way out the door but it was my fault. I put him in the potty as we were preparing to leave but he didn’t go. Because of this I was putting some receiving blankets in the car seat for extra “dryness” and my mom was watching him as I’m finishing up in the truck I hear him screaming…..yup, you guessed it that was when he pottied. I got him cleaned up switched shirts and out the door we went. Between Target and Starbucks we were gone about thirty minutes and he stayed dry(inserts fist pump)!!!

We got home and it was bedtime, because the day was going so well and Jamie said to day and night train simultaneously we went to bed with no diaper. Yup, you read that right we ended day 3 with no diaper. I prepped for this as much as possible, receiving blankets under the fitted sheet; cut off liquids 2 hours before bed; pulled out all his 2 piece pjs for reinforcements; fleece blanketed for wet spots; had my alarm set for 11p and 2a and we went for it. I out him on the potty right before bed but he refused to stay on and certainly didn’t go therefore I expected an accident. He woke up wet just before the 11pm alarm. There was no point in being upset because this was almost guaranteed…besides it was our first time night training. The kid went back to sleep around 1am(no I was NOT happy about that) especially not with another night time check at 2am but what can you do. He woke up at 2am, wasn’t wet, we went back to sleep and all was right with the world. Day 3 potty training went pretty well, as did night 1 of training. Because of this I was certain Day 4 would be a mess!!!

Day 4, honestly it hasn’t been too bad. I was convinced I’d be met with sheer stubbornness but surprisingly he wasn’t as bad as I thought he’d be. Today I decided he’d go half naked half commando with the kid. We have had more makes than misses but the misses have been in his shorts. The good news is he doesn’t like being wet….so it makes him attempt to get to the potty. Big deal: he pooped twice IN the potty!!!! I was so excited to not have to clean up shit….and he was excited to see “what came out of him.” We took another very short trip with him commando, this time to UPS and he managed to stay dry. I don’t wanna set myself up for failure by thinking we”re on the road to being fully potty trained but damn it “we’re on the way to being fully potty trained!!!” Now in reality I can’t get too excited, we’re going to take another trip shortly and that one won’t be short time wise. It’s close to the house but we’re gonna be gone awhile so um…I guess we’re moving into the “different situations block”. It exactly tryna move there until Sunday but uh one night can’t hurt.

All in all I was talked off the proverbial ledge and my kid is making nice strides. This mama needs to celebrate….I think I’ll have a cookie.

Potty Training Saga Part 2

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There are days where I want to sit and cry because I am so frustrated and today is one of those days. I am beyond overwhelmed and the reality is as much as I want to give up and take time to cry I can’t….cuz then shit just wouldn’t get done😩 It is in fact the never ending circle of single parenting: Shit gets tough, you have no one to turn to or in my case you don’t want to exhaust the only help you have; you want to cry, want to release your frustrations but honestly there’s no time because “things need to be done.” So what straw broke the camel’s back today? Is it the failed potty training expedition, the stubborn , clingy, toddler/mom needs a break thing; is it the I ant afford to do anything for myself thing; or is it the daycare cost too damn much, how the fuck am I expected to take care of anything else thing? How about it was all of that….no seriously it’s all of that. As I sit on the floor of my bathroom because I wanted some “me time” writing this my stubborn toddler fell asleep while in timeout. Honestly his falling asleep was best for both of us because I no longer had the patience necessary to deal with him. Day 3 of potty training has not show any improvements, dare I say it things I have gotten worse. My son pees the floor and shows no remorse. In fact when showing him the urine and telling him that’s a “no no and that big boys pee in the potty he proceeded to play in the urine. This was the third accident of the day, the second where he flat out showed no remorse and I was over it. Maybe just maybe you aren’t ready. I do NOT have money for diapers but I also no longer have patience for this shit. I put the diaper back on him and he goes “NO”…naw bruh it’s too late for no you should’ve acted right when I was trying. Crazy thing is I know he’s ready, not only does he love his big boy underwear but he pulls off wet diapers and brings them to me, he sits in the potty (most of the time), and he uses it with no problem. He hasn’t figured out how to poop the potty but whatever. The majority of his accidents are just bad timing…..as in I took him off the potty too early and he pissed his underpants. But today he’s being rebellious as all hell and so he refuses to go….and he’s being selectively rebellious…worse. Normally I’m not one to back down from a battle and certainly to one to back down from a challenge with my kid but this timeI don’t have it in me so fuck it you win. Back to diapers you go and back to mommy having to figure out where the diaper money will come from. As if I needed another reason to be frustrated with him he refused to pick up his toys. My kid loves to clean, he loves to straighten things and like most boys he LOVES the praise he gets when he knows he’s made mommy very happy. Over the last week or so not so much; you can praise him all you want and he still jus doesn’t care. Per usual I gave him the bag and said put the blocks in here he in turn told me “no” and snatched away. NIGHT NIGHT buddy, you’re not going to tell me no and think it’s ok….and that’s how I got my quiet time🤷🏾‍♀️

After he went down for timeout I sat to budget my next paycheck…huge mistake. Because of the way the first pay period in September falls I need to pay my daycare provider over $500 from my next check in order to make sure he’s covered. That sent me right over the edge. $360 for two weeks I would’ve been alright with and honestly was expecting that but $540?!?!?! That’s probably a third of what I’m going to receive. My kid needs school supplies and Lord let’s not forget diapers, I need to actually do quite a bit for myself PLUS I have other bills to pay and you want me to give up a third of my check? It may be more than a third because once combined with my car note I think I have $200 left. What the fuck am I suppose to do with that? My calculations sent me into a total talespin of “what and why the fucks?!?!” “What the fuck am I gonna do with $200? Why e fuck does daycare cost so much? Why the fuck am I paying so much for daycare when you’re still asking me to bring supplies? What the fuck am I suppose to put on the back burner this time? Why the fuck is his trifling ass sperm donor helping me? Why the fuck do you idiots think people are o;yo having one to two kids? Why the fuck are y’all wondering dumb shit when the answer is obvious? Who the fuck can I get in the family to watch him because this shit is fucking ridiculous followed by fuck everybody is dead. What the fuck and why the fuck…..now none of this shit actually helps me and honestly it probably does nothing more than keep me hyped up on my emotions….that’s why I call it a tale spin.

Crashing down rom my tale spin I retreat to the bathroom to blog and hopefully have a good cry in the shower….ten minutes of course can’t be in the shower too long in case the kid wakes up. As I type I still haven’t cried nor have I come up with any solutions, nor do I feel better about anything. This has been such a trying year. I honestly thought I was beginning to handle things a little better but as I can see that’s far from the truth. I sit here wishing I was married for the help yet knowing married couples have the same financial problems ESPECIALLY the daycare convo….hell I just listened to one of my married friends tell me this last week. I sit here wishing I made more money, I did the calculations when I switched jobs I need to bring home at least $2000 bi-weekly to afford full time daycare….my kid is currently part time daycare and let’s just say I have yet to hit $2000. The silver lining is at least with my current job there is potential to hit $2000 that wasn’t even a thought in the previous job. Crazy thing is I’m not sure if I actually wish those things or if right now I just feel those are the most obvious solutions to my problems. I sit here closing out this blog realizing I didn’t even tell y’all about day 2 part 2 potty training…I just skipped to the train wreck that was day 3. I guess I’ll have to hop back on and do that later. Right now I need some time to mentally and emotionally relax.

The Potty Training Saga

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Deep breath….ok guys so I’m officially potty training my 21 month old. NO, I didn’t push him; NO I’m not rushing; YES he basically told me it was time…he kept pulling his wet diapers off and bringing them to me…..so yes, it was time. I chose this week because it’s vacation week from daycare and from everything I read it’s best to just “go at it for the week” then then try on weekends only. This is Day 2 y’all……Day 2!!!!! He is such a handful but damn it I’m not backing down!!

Day 1 went like this, I wasn’t home because I was working that day and so I decided I’d start on Monday. My mom was home with him all day and wanted to start so we agreed. I left the house around 11am by 130 he’d officially shat and pissed the floor and by 3 she was “sick of this shit and too old to be bending down to clean up shit” so my son ended up back in a diaper. Originally I was not thrilled that he was back in a diaper because well she could’ve waited and he and I could’ve started on Monday like I originally planned.

Part 2 Day 1 I got home around 5, he cleaned up, we ate dinner and I chilled. Y’all I was not gonna reopen this can of worms until tomorrow. While chilling out my mother goes “did you try with him?” No, no I did not….we can wait til tomorrow. About an hour later I said to hell with it and decided we could try at least once. My👏🏾 Child👏🏾 Set👏🏾Me👏🏾Up👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾!! I put him in the toilet and made him sit there for 10 minutes. While sitting in the toilet I showed him his “big boy shirts”(which he actually likes), read him the toilet book, and showed and e Plaines his progress chart to him and what he’d receive stickers for. Somewhere during all of that my son went; he used the toilet. I was super thrilled!! I celebrated with him, we flushed, washed his hands, put the stickers on his chart and back to chill vile we went, I told him in 30 minutes we’d try again. Thirty minutes passed we tried again and guess what, he went again. Again I excitedly celebrated him and tracked his progress. In the words of Da I’ll Tiger we flushed, and washed, and went on our way!😂😂😂😂 Right before his bedtime bath we tried once more, this time he didn’t use the bathroom but we’ll he sat so ok. Y’all know I’m fairly ambitious so in my mind “cool, at this rate we should have the whole “go in the down by Wednesday and spend the rest of the week learning how to correctly put on his big boy pants without my help.” I was excited, I had a plan and it was all coming together.

Day 2, As with everything that I’ve attempted to plan parent wise, my plan fell apart. We woke up and first thing this morning I put him on the potty, he went…success!! In my mind things were going according to my plan. 8am we tried again, and nothing. This time he barely wanted to sit on the toilet. In fact he made five minutes by the skin of his teeth….as in he got up at least three times and I made him sit back down. Five minutes passed and nothing happened so we got up. No sooner than we get outta the bathroom my man pees and y’all I was not patient, I..was..livid(please don’t start telling me how I should’ve responded…I’m well aware of that but that’s not how this unfolded lol). I KNEW he had to go….I told him to sit down…he didn’t wanna wait… now Elmo is wet. I say “man didn’t we agree to keep Elmo dry?” “You gotta be a big boy and use the potty if we’re gonna do that!l I think he was tired of the whole thing because he boycotted his mid-morning snack, lunch, and ended up in time out twice before noon. Homeboy was BIG MAD! I think it’s the sitting and waiting part that he’s not thrilled with. As I sit typing I remember reading he should have a toy while o; the toilet, so the last two times I let him pick his favorite books to bring along and we took his piano. I must admit having a distraction made the waiting part bearable. Since he’s been up from his afternoon nap (aka he fell asleep while in timeout) we’ve had one successful potty time and one successful sitting with no action. At this rate I’m just hoping he actually gets trained by then end of the week. Potty Training is rough…and I have no idea how I’m doing this without wine😩😩😩

Pray for me

Badge of Shame

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My son is named after his father. In fact, he’s name after both his father and grandfather; his suffix is “III.” Once my ex rejected him( even after signing his birth certificate) I seriously debated changing his name. Not his first name, he was just about eleven months at the time and certainly used to his first name but his middle and last names……..most definitely! In my mind there was no sense in wearing the name of the person who ejected him.

Rewind to 11 months (now almost 2 years ago) I remember finding out I was pregnant and instantly thinking “well at least I don’t have to think of a name.” After telling one of my newly divorced friends my plan to name him after his father she posed some real questions. Are you sure he’s going to be around; you don’t want to name him after someone who acts an ass then you’re reminded of that person every time you call your son. “How will you feel calling your son by this name (his name) when you’re pissed off with him(the ex)? “I’m going through all of that now she remarked, I almost hate calling my son’s real name because it reminds me of his father. There’s a lot that goes into naming the child after his father, stuff we don’t think about.” I’ll admit, she scared the shit out of me. I hadn’t thought of any of that. She scared me so much I debated and actually tried to change my son’s name. I remember thinking “maybe he can just have the same initials as his dad”; maybe he can have a different name altogether, different initials and all.” I ran the idea of another name by my mom who loved it. She suggested that was a good idea as we already had 2-3 cousins with the same first name. And as she told me oddly enough one of those cousins had a middle name that was close to my son’s father’s middle name too. Agreeing that was too much, for the next three weeks I came up with different names and called my son by them……that stubborn little man wouldn’t budge. I liked one name in particular and really wished he would answer to it BUT wishful thinking. He would only answer to his father’s name….and so it was I was stuck naming him after his father. With my baby due any day now I became quite content with naming him after his dad, after all his dad was pleased with the decision AND my son refused to answer to anything else.

During the first ten months I never rethought my son’s name. Sure his dad and I had some rough times but those come with the territory of being in a relationship. It wasn’t until that night in October a year after having my first doubts that I suddenly felt as if I’d made a mistake. It was the week before my son’s baptism and his father was taking forever to give his parents the invitation. I decided we’d known one another for the longest; we had a great relationship, there was no reason I couldn’t send his mom a message with the invite myself. That was the absolute biggest mistake of my life. It was that night all hell broke loose. Long story short my son’s father told her we had a DNA test and the kid wasn’t his. Talk about an earth shattering moment. I have to stand in front of God, my Pastor, family, and church family to have my son baptized with a name of someone rejecting him?!?!? I have to stand there bearing THIS?!?!? TOO MUCH JESUS, TOO MUCH!!!!

You couldn’t pay me to believe I hadn’t made a mistake. How could I not see this happening? How was I supposed to get him baptized. Was I really going to stand there and allow him to be called by the traitor’s name? What choice did I have? This was such a nightmare. There we stood having him baptized by the traitor’s name; with a cake at dinner afterwards that also had his name…not a sole from that side of the family there. Not even his treacherous ass twenty-three other chromosomes. This was so embarrassing.

I got through that day taking the celebratory dinner to divulge to my cousins what had transpired. It helped to tell someone other than my best friends and my mother but still there was a deathly feeling. It was that damn name.

In an argument attempting to get through what happened I told the jackass that I intended to change the my son’s name because I didn’t want the baby to bear the constant rejection from someone who didn’t want him. This foo had the audacity to tell me that hurt his feelings. Pardon my language but I flipped the fuck out. Do you really think I care about your feelings after what you did to me? What about my son’s feelings? How is he going to feel as he gets older?

That was and still is such a haunting question. How do you explain to a child why you made a decision to name him after someone who decided to abandon him? The truth has been suggested, but if I’m my son I don’t want to hear “ I used to love him, we grew up together, I named you to honor him as his first born son, I didn’t see this coming, I’m sorry. He’ll hear I’m sorry because I am, I never intended for things to go this way, but really how do I teach him not to look at his name as a badge of shame? How do I teach him to handle questions about his name in school? How do I answer when he asks why we have different last names? What do I say if he asks why didn’t I change his name? Almost a year later and I still don’t have answers.

Looking back on my rant about changing his name, my mother never actually co-signed or tried to talk me out of it. From what I can remember she just let me vent. Of course my cousins said change his name and go for child support, my best friends agreed with my cousins….once they came out of their shock about the entire situation. One of my mom’s friends told me not to change his name because if anything ever happened to his father my son would get money….Lord forbid this of course. Really, the decision was mine. When I originally told his father I was changing his name I told his father he should have the privilege of giving his name to someone he loved, cared about and wanted to parent. I was serious when I said that. On the other hand it was pretty fucked up knowing he may have another son some day and the chick will never know about my kid UNTIL she tried to name her son after this same treacherous soul only to find out it wasn’t possible.

In the end I still haven’t changed his name. I let my son keep his name. I didn’t do it out of spite, fear, not for money( I’m not even seeking child support from the bastard I just want to be left alone in peace), I didn’t do it out of indecisiveness. Now I haven’t given my son a nickname he can only be called by his full name. Any nickname is entirely too close to his father, and while I forgive him and I’m moving past all this….I still don’t wanna hear that name. No bitterness there, I don’t cringe when others do it, I don’t correct them BUT I’m not making a habit out of it either. I haven’t changed his name because one day my son will be great( I truly believe this). One day my son will change the world, he will make it a better place. When that day comes I want his other twenty-three chromosomes to know he missed out. I want him to be reminded that missing out was his decision. I want him to be reminded of what he did.

I don’t know how to answer my son, I hope I never have to answer those questions but if I do I’ll tell him the truth. I named you after him because at one point I loved him, and you were a gift to him. It’s not your fault that he didn’t realize or accept you as his gift. It’s not your fault that he didn’t stay, he missed out, not you. I am truly sorry that you have to bear his name, you are free to change your name BUT his decisions don’t dictate who you are, they don’t dictate who you will be. They don’t dictate your worth. Having his name doesn’t dictate your worth or your future. I truly think that’s the best answer I can give him.

Molding Toddzilla

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My son is in the thick of terrible twos which is interesting enough because he’s only a few days off 20 months. I noticed the change once he turned 18 months, it’s as if he realized he could control EVERYTHING and boy has he been determined to do so. I don’t think I’ve said “no or stop” so many times in my life. I swear I average both words along with the phrase “don’t do that” 20xs/day. Not lying!!! Lately I’ve found myself tiring of saying “stop”, “no”, “don’t do that”…like just down right exhausted. It’s like I’m a broken record. Along with being exhausted of being so negative I also realized my son is an absolute sponge right now. Meaning he picks up on any and everything I do even and probably especially if I don’t want him to. I decided to reevaluate where we(my son and I) are in this period of life and the first thing I realized is toddlerhood is JUST starting…aka I have at least 3 more years of this😩. Secondly, (after pulling myself back together lol) I also realized I can’t continue doing things at this pace; if I’m going to get through this I had to change my style. Changing my style meant more reflection and as a consequence of more reflection it also meant being more intentional in my actions and interactions with toddzilla. Here are a few of the things I’m purposefully implementing:

  1. I try to thank my toddler more! This is an extremely important piece and it took me a few days to come up with this one. This is also probably the hardest technique because I have to actively LOOK for opportunities to do it. There are times when my toddler does something without me having to ask or instruct him; for example yesterday when I told him it was time for lunch he climbed in his chair, strapped himself in, and waited very patiently until I brought him lunch. I was thoroughly impressed. I look for these situations to thank him and tell him I like when he does “xyz”. The positive affirmation acknowledges that he was listening and paying attention to my teachings AND that he’s mastered when and how to implement new skill. Tell him I like when he does something increases the likelihood of him repeating the skill without prompting or fighting.
  2. If I’m telling him not to do something I try very hard to explain why the action isn’t suitable AND how it affects him. Great example, the stove! My kid loves to “help me cook”….I’m Type A+ personality so it drives me NUTS lol, but I pull back and allow it because I understand he wants to “help” and feel included. As parents we all know the kitchen is an extremely dangerous place for toddlers….it’s almost impossible to keep them safe in the kitchen. For some reason my son is taken with the stove. He wants to touch it, he wants to attempt to turn the buttons and because he’s watched me do it, he thinks he can move pots and pans. Beforehand any time I saw him approaching the stove he’d get a stern “don’t touch that”!! Which of course for the rebellious soul just means “go ahead and touch it.” Now I focus on telling him the stove is extremely hot, and if he touches it there’s a chance he’ll get burned which means we’ll have to take away from his play time to go sit at the doctor. Does this explanation always work. Nope! So I have to switch it up and ask him “is the stove hot or cold?” Then pose a follow up question about what can happen s are too hot….he’s not verbalizing well enough to answer that question, but his actions usually show he understands.
  3. I stroke his ego! Yup, not even 2 yet and it already works! Like all toddlers he loves to help and will often do so without being prompted, in those moments I tell him “ he’s the best ever at (insert helpful thing here)”, or “he’s so good at (insert helpful thing here)”, I clap, I dance, I high five….I stay gassing him up for being helpful….as a result he continues helping and I’m not stressed.

Conclusion: does my new way of doing things always work-NOPE! Absolutely not! I’d be a liar to say they do, but at the very least I’m not burned out. I do know these techniques are allowing me to affirm and praise my child and they’re also giving him explanations as to why I don’t want him to do things. Hopefully he learn from the explanations and be able to make his own connections and have more information when making a choice( a little advanced for a toddler but hey if he’s gonna soak everything up why not start “filling” him with skills to succeed now). One of my favorite lessons for him is empowerment! By pulling back and rerouting I am giving him the confidence to explore and take risk(hopefully calculated risks as he gets older). Finally, I know that my new found ways of dealing with him will teach him more about rewards and consequences and teach him that every action has both rewards and consequences attached. So in closing I probably won’t lessen the amounts of bumps, bruises, and cuts but at least I’m attempting to raise a well rounded individual AND keeping a tad of my sanity while doing so.

Redemption.

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Daycare is Godawful expensive!! Most people with children know and agree on that. I previously worked as a General Manager at a corporate gym and received some assistance from the state in paying for my child’s daycare. Even with receiving that assistance I still paid an additional $400/ month for daycare. There were of course other options that would’ve been fully covered  by the state but those were less than satisfactory…that’s another story altogether. About 2 months ago I received notice that my grant for daycare would cease because “I now made too much.” Out of curiosity I wondered what “too much was” so I inquired. I found out “too much” was $2500/ month in which case I realized there was no way I should’ve gotten assistance to begin with; clearly I wasn’t about to apply again. It was at this point I decided (since I was changing careers anyways to drop my son to part time daycare; this addition would allow me to save or divert to other expenses $420/month AND revive my stay at home mom status….even if it’s just part time. 

First I devised plan…you guys will learn that I HAVE to have a plan, it keeps me at calm lolbs! After figuring out which days my son would stay with me I wrote his daily daycare schedule out and inserted various events for he and I to do in the activity block. I figured if we stay on the schedule he’s accustomed to it really couldn’t be that bad. Being frugal, I also decided it would be best to alternate the distance of our activities, one of our activities would be closer to the house while the other would take us further away. 

I didn’t quite have a plan for today but ugh, well….mommy daycare it was lol! My kid, as if he wasn’t exhausted from yesterday woke up at 6:30am bright, early, and ready to go!!! Without a real plan intact Mommy Daycare was off and running! 

6:30 bath

7am breakfast and PBS

8am open play

9am outdoor play

9:30 bored child (yup, your read that right)

9:35 puzzled parent because this whole outdoor thing should’ve lasted until 9:50

9:50 sign-ups for open play at an indoor playground 

10:00 mid morning snack

10:15 head to indoor playground 

10:25 arrive at indoor playground 

10:27 toddler meltdown…not sure if he was upset that we were at an indoor playground and not daycare OR if he was pissed Babyshark went off…I think it’s the latter

10:30-11:45 SUCCESS!!! my child is happy, I’m starting a blog (I’m finishing it 12 hours later and yes I have totally forgotten the purpose of the blog)

11:50 depart indoor playground

12pm LUNCH

…..and dare I say it 12:30 NAP!! Oh thank God we made it!!!

Mama had a 1pm tour about 15 minutes away and thankfully grandma stepped in to sit with her sleeping angel. 

Maybe the point of this blog was to share that days at home with children work best when you keep them WITH other children, that way they keep one another busy. Maybe the point of this blog was to show you that you can do it Mama! After all I legit played Mommy Daycare, and worked from home and it worked itself out. Maybe, the point of the blog is to reassure you that you can be every woman in one day or that you don’t necessarily need a plan to successfully navigate it through the day…nope that wasn’t the point of the blog lol! A plan is very necessary………………………..

Something no one really knew was after spending 9 months as a “Stay at Home Mom” I mildly resented going back to work. On one hand I wanted to go back to work full time to prove to myself that I was more than “just a mom”; I also needed to go back to work full time to make ends meet. On the other hand I wanted to stay at home with my baby boy! I trusted absolutely no one to take care of him the way I did; I didn’t want to work and make money only to give a lump sum to a daycare provider; I would miss our midday adventures and hitting all the children’s spots while everyone else was working; but most of all I didn’t want to miss any of his milestones. The thought of missing his first steps; first words; not being there to potty train…all of those things frightened me. Even the thought of missing his milestones made me feel like a bad mom. 

I spent 8 months away from my baby boy working because that’s what needed to be done…..even more so now that we were on our own. By the beginning of this year what began as a cozy job with understanding management became a real headache. All of a sudden no one understood “working mom” meant mom first; no one understood young babies occasionally get sick which meant mommy needed to take a PTO day; no one understood yup, babies still have quarterly immunizations and unfortunately ER/Urgent Care visits and routine check-ups can’t be lumped into one appointment. No one understood I couldn’t be surprised with random “we need you to stay late days” because well…daycare closed at 6. No one understood yes, daycares take breaks and if no one is able to watch my child than yes, I am forced to stay at home. And certainly NO ONE understood “single mother” aka if I don’t do it no one else will..aka I don’t have help….aka I have to do this parenting thing by myself…aka yes I care about my job but I care about my child more….aka….NO, there really is no one else to help. I was miserable! Frustrated was an understatement and of course because I was frustrated at work I began taking it out on my child. Not physically but I certainly didn’t have the patience required to deal with a toddler. 

One of my extremely close friends knew I was miserable and suggested a job change, something with more of a time flexibility that allowed me to maximize my income while working but still provided time flexibility. She has two amazing children, she’s very rarely missed anything they were doing…heck even practices. She was a BOSS and an INVOLVED mom…she definitely had the lifestyle I wanted for my child…so yup, if she’s suggesting a career change and it allows me to work and be an involved parent let’s do this…..enter Real Estate. 

I’m just starting so I don’t have any highs or lows career wise to share but today I was able to take care of EVERYTHING that needed to be done: I both worked and I was Mommy, involved mommy, fun mommy. So yea, maybe someone was encouraged and inspired by the blog but (only 12hours later) as I remember the real point of the blog, it was to celebrate balance. Today, I was fully able to balance both being a mom and a career woman and it felt great!! Will it always be this easy, no. Will there be some challenges along the way. Absolutely, I’m dealing with a toddler in the throws of the terrible twos not but do I know it’s possible? Absolutely, and that’s what gives me hope, that’s what encourages me to push forward, and for the rest of the weekend (yup, def working the weekend) that’s what I’ll celebrate….knowing that it’s totally possible to be both mom and career woman.

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Freedom?

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Today I took my son to see Sesame Street Road Trip. My mom accompanied us. It was hot as all hell, the lines were long BUT it was free, and most importantly my child enjoyed it (as much as he could between toddler fits about only God knows what). While I could write about the weather, the waiting, and the fun that’s not why I’m writing.

Today was the first time I took my child to a family event, saw other families (both parents) with their children and did NOT get jealous. Today was the first time I took my child to a family event and didn’t feel sad because he “doesn’t know what it’s like to be out with his father.” Today was the first time I took my child to a family event and not only owned what type of family we were but actually enjoyed (minus being hot and sweating balls) it. I mean sure it was refreshing to see the fathers there with their children but I was there, my mom was there…my kid was fine. He was happy. He didn’t miss a beat!

Today my new found acceptance was tested and I didn’t fail. For once in the last 8 months I was “at peace” with what type of family I have. This was so refreshing for me. It was a major victory. My multigenerational family had been there all the time, my mom has always helped out, she’s never felt burdened but today I was happy about her being there. I focused more on being blessed to have her, than feeling cursed or ashamed that it my son’s father wasn’t with the three of us. Today I realized how much of a blessing my son and I were and chose to relish in that.

Acceptance feels great! Acceptance feels like freedom, it’s a new found freedom, this is great. Is it the start of a new beginning? True freedom? This. Is. Acceptance……..and it feels great.

Grief. Part 2

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Third, I mourned the loss of my best friend. Every time life sporadically changed you were there. When I didn’t believe in myself you believed in me. When I questioned whether or not I was good enough you were there to remind me of my accomplishments. When I got caught up in my thoughts you guided me back to reality. When I was scared and felt vulnerable you were by my side. When I felt alone you reminded me I wasn’t. Even when we weren’t dating you were my other half. No one ever understood the dynamics of our relationship; why we were so tight, why we were inseparable , why we always came back to one another. I’m not sure we understood it, I just know we always found our way back to each other. We always balanced one another. You were my calm, I was your storm. We bounced off one another, always laughed together, always shared. If I take things out of the relationship context you’re still there. Your absence is still hard to fill. Your presence is still very well missed…and honestly losing you in this respect is much harder than losing you as a mate. The unexpected loss of 20 years of history is unfathomable. The loss of a connection is indescribable. At least once a week I am inadvertently tasked with figuring out how to fill that friendship void. I’m STILL mourning this loss. Each situation I’m presented with where I want to reach out to you is always different so it causes me to deal with the loss from a different angle. They say time heals everything, I guess 20 years takes more than 9 months. I. STILL. MISS. YOU.

My idea of family?!?!? Busted! You, your shenanigans completely ruined that. This took took forever to get over, yet accepting this piece is what actually brought my newfound PEACE. I used to think our family would be a love story for the ages, a dream…something straight out of a fairy tale…after all not everyone lives to marry their high school sweetheart. Before we ever found out I was pregnant WE. WERE. IN. HEAVEN. House hunting, planning, supporting you as you relentlessly pursued your dream career, you supporting me in total entrepreneurship, us making it work. I honestly don’t think I’d ever been happier; it felt like the stars finally aligned in our favor. I daydreamed about our future children looking like you. I dreamt about all the extracurricular activities we’d have them in…actually we talked about them….family gatherings at the kids’ events…..celebrating milestone. I dreamt of how good you’d be with them. I dreamt of us celebrating marital milestones….silver and golden anniversaries…vow renewals with our children by our side. I cloaked myself in the idea of finally breaking the curse of single moms in my family. After all you already had a daughter whom you were very engaged with. I saw the care and love you out into her and I said “wow, my future babies are going to be so lucky.” Then we got the news, and everything changed. Our beautiful boy was born and you weren’t there. You weren’t involved. You missed everything….literally everything. Work was always your excuse. I knew it didn’t feel right, didn’t seem right but I was still optimistic, taking you at your word….then the other shoe dropped and all of a sudden I was a single mom. You were no longer there, not an option. The dreams I had died the day you couldn’t answer where the hell your mother got such a crazy idea. Our plans died, my future died that day. No more marriage, no more house, no more kids(or at least not all by the same person), no more seeing you as a loving father. My vision of you died. My family died that day. Clearly there was no way I could ever open my heart or trust anyone ever again. And really who the hell dates with kids? You mean I’m supposed to trust another man around my child? Ha! No thanks. DEATH. DEATH OF HOPE. DEATH OF DREAMS. DEATH OF FUTURE. FEAR. LONELINESS. DESPAIR. While losing you as a friend was the hardest to mourn and certainly took the most time, death of a future is a hard pill to swallow. How do I get past this? How do I not sink into a depression and give up?

I prayed; I cried!! I prayed on the way to work, throughout the day. I silently cried myself to sleep at night, or every time I saw what presented itself as a loving family. I cried every time your name came through my phone. I sought therapy. I cried there too. I talked about how much I love and now hated you all at the same time. I cried. I prayed while I cried…I cried while I prayed. I repeated that cycle for months. I went on with my life as though nothing changed. The facade was REAL. I immersed myself in my son and his happiness, afterall his happiness and wellbeing was all that matter at this point. I mourned. I haven’t mourned this much or this hard since losing my grandmother. I. MOURNED, but I held it together in public. The majority of my friends and family had no clue what was going on. I carried on and spoke as if “we” was still a thing. “Our” family was fine. I informed you of things going on with the baby. I wrote your name on all pertinent forms, you were still very much apart of “my” life. My mom circle was still that of 2 parent families; dads of the families still asking “when is he gonna take a day off and have a family day with us?” No one knew I was dying inside, I was miserable and I was attempting to come to grips with a new reality. The one thing I needed was time. Time to mourn, time to grieve, time to cry, time to heal. Time is the ONE thing I felt I couldn’t give myself….because I was now a single parent and my everything needed to go into my sweet baby boy. It’s been 9 months and I’m still processing; I’m definitely healing. I feel stronger, I feel better, there’s no longer a pit in my stomach when I see a 2 parent home. No longer a twinge of jealousy and pain when I see a dad with his child. This is still my cross to bear, my child will NOT bear it. Afterall the mother must bear the pain for the son. For the moment I am no longer grieving and all it took was time…..which led to…..acceptance!