Motherhood

These are some thoughts I have had over the past week and I decided to compile them together for one post.

Wednesday, May 6th

Yesterday, a situation happened in which I was tested. In the past, I would have went off, guns ablazing not really caring about the aftermath. Something was said to my son that hurt their feelings and when they’re hurt, I’m hurt. What made it even worst was the source. I was hurt, sad, and pissed off. But instead of going off, I gave myself a cooling period. I said my piece, listened to the other person and the problem was resolved. No one knows what I went through (understandably) and how I had to get myself out of an unhealthy situation. My sons were my number one reason for wanting to do better, be better. They are the most important people to me. I will never love anyone more than them. I will never care about anyone more than them so when they are messed with…I lose it.

Thursday, May 7th

Right now I am going through two different phases with my sons. My youngest still comes into my room every morning to get into bed with me. He’s still giggly and silly, calls me “Mommy”, wants to play with his dinosaurs or make up games such as “The Floor is Lava” or “Zombie Brains.” – Which is basically like Tag, but instead of tagging the person you eat their brains and now they are the zombie. He’s still a skinny, gangly, little boy who I can still pick up and not feel like I’m going to drop him. My oldest, still small but growing into a young adult. I worry about how much longer he’ll call me “Mommy.” He’s already told me before he’ll go back and forth between “Mom” and “Mommy” but I know pretty soon the last “Mommy” will come and I probably won’t even notice it.

Thankfully, we have things in common that can (and hopefully will) last through his teenage years. But will it? Will it still be cool to go see horror movies with your mom and fight over who’s better, Jason Vorhees or Michael Myers (It’s Michael)? Or will he rather go with his friends and just want me to drop him off? Will he even say bye or just get out the car?

I’ve never been a fan of pictures hanging in the house (and probably never will be). In previous jobs where I had my own desk and space, you would never find a picture of any family member. I always kept my space generic. Whenever I look back at old pictures, I get really sad. Recently, the boys brought home some pictures from their father and while I am thankful to have them it’s hard for me to look at them.

It makes me feel sad, depressed. Because back then I was sad and depressed. I was also naive and hopeful in a situation that was never meant to be. Sometimes I struggle to remember the good times (there were barely good times). I wish I was a better mother. I wish I was a happier mother. I wish I was a stronger mother. I wish I wish I wish.

Lately I have been crying the night before I drop the boys off with their dad (as I’m doing now) because when they’re not around I don’t feel complete. Even when they are getting on my last nerve their vibe is still positive.

Saturday, May 9th

I scrolled through my Instagram and wow! The boys and I have created some amazing memories over this past year. I know this society has made people feel bad about getting divorced and giving up on “for better or worse” but damn, this past year has been great. I am better mom, a happier mom. The cloak of sadness and tension is gone and I can just be.

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Shanika

Living in Columbia, South Carolina and using this blog as my space to share a little insight into my life in what I’m making on the sewing machine, knitting needles, crochet hooks, in the kitchen, and elsewhere.

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