BioI'm a mom of 6, grandma to 2 and a wife of 16 yrs and counting. I have been to hell and back several times and have survived it each time thanks in large part to my husband. When I write, I do so from the heart and from personal experience.
A few years ago I did a daily challenge to change the way I think about myself. I had the worst self esteem imaginable and I had to find a way to change that. My counselor was trying to help but I just didn't believe what he was saying. So, starting January 1 of the new year, I challenged myself to come up with one thing I like about myself, every day, for 365 days. It was definitely a challenge, but on Dec. 31, I made my final post (I was keeping track on documenting my challenge on Facebook). At the end of that year, I felt so much healthier and happier with myself! I had little to no bad thoughts about myself and felt so proud for it!!
Creating a Cake
This past Sunday (December 16) was the 15th birthday of one of my daughters. She still likes to have themed parties, and this year she chose to have a fantasy theme. Now, I prefer to make their cakes myself as it adds a little extra love to their special day. So this year, going along with the fantasy theme, I decided to make her a castle cake... or attempt to anyway. But I didn't want it to be just a single flavor cake. I wanted to mix it up. To say my husband has banned me from watching anymore baking shows is an understatement LOL... anyway, here is how her cake was made...
Growing up, I had the worst self-esteem imaginable! I would always put myself down and allow others to put me down as well, not knowing that this was abusive. I just thought it was normal. When someone complimented me, I would argue with them and say that they were wrong. I'm not pretty, I'm not smart, I'm not anything nice they had to say. So many negatives running through my mind, always. My grandparents were the only adults in my life trying to combat all of the negative. I grew up to be an angry young adult. I couldn't feel truly happy because I thought that it would always go wrong. Then I became a mom and the negative thoughts skyrocketed! I didn't think I was doing anything right, thought I was a bad mom. The negative thoughts consumed me so badly that I attempted suicide. Not once, but twice, and thought about it much more than that. I finally sought help when I realized that in order to be happy, to allow myself to be happy, I needed to heal.
Demons of the Mind
My youngest daughter wrote this and asked me to post it. *** I'm terrified of questions. I'm terrified of being asked questions. I hate being asked questions and having to come up with a fake answer just so I won't be bothered. I want to do good. I want to be able to say that I'm a good person. I want to be able to say that I'm proud of who I am. I want to say I'm happy and be telling the truth.
PTSD and Me
The majority of my life has been filled with trauma. I have only been free of it for the last four years. My trauma began when I was just a young girl. My birth mother and father got a divorce and I was left to live with my mother. Being a daddy's girl left with a mother that didn't understand her was hard! My big brother was a mama's boy. He was a straight-A student, always (as far as I can remember) did what she wanted him to do. He was the golden boy with our mother. Because I was rough and tumble and the furthest thing from a girly girl as you could get, she didn't like me. I didn't get straight A's, was lucky, even, to get a B. And I was defiant. These led me to being mentally and emotionally abused. I was often called a little bitch, stupid and told, "why can't you be more like your brother?" Not things a kid needs to hear. I never had any support from her either. And that wasn't the worst of what I dealt with living with my birth mother. When I was around eight years old, she got involved with a truck driver that abused drugs and alcohol. She moved us in with him, and for two years, my brother and I were forced to watch this poor excuse of a human being beat and rape our mother every day. He always accused her of cheating on him, would ask my brother and me for confirmation of her infidelity. Why didn't we leave? Why did my brother and I stay and watch? We were told we would be killed if we moved. We were told if we left him, he would hunt us down and kill us all. The threat of life is an excellent motivator to make you stay in an unsafe situation.
When my husband and I moved into our house in September, we had three dogs and that was it. We haven't owned any cats in something like ten years or more. It's not that we have anything against cats, we just wanted dogs. Two months after moving in, my stepson moved in with us. He told us that he had a cat and her kittens at his old apartment that he hadn't been to in a few weeks and his ex wasn't taking care of them. She hadn't been to the apartment for a couple of weeks to take care of them. We knew we couldn't leave those poor animals there, so my mother in law took my stepson to get them and bring them home.
Pay It Forward
Growing up mainly in Maine, I had the opportunity to see my fellow Maineiacs go out of their way to help those in need, whether it was someone broken down on the side of the road or a family in need after a house fire. I even heard about communities coming together for the raising of barns and houses. Because of these examples set by my elders, I grew up with a generous heart, wanting to help those in need.
We met when we were 15-years-old at a hunter's safety course. During a break on the second day (it was a three day course), I noticed him and his friends staring at me. I already knew one of the guys in the group so I motioned for him to come over and asked why they were staring. I was told it was because they wanted to meet me. So my friend introduced us. Back in class, a couple of the guys, including my friend, were trying to impress me, except for the man that would later become my husband. He just kept his mouth shut, watched, and listened. During the final break, I got cold so I wrapped my arms around myself and just stared out the doors. One of the new guys wrapped his arm around me like we were the best of friends. Excuse me??! I asked him to remove his arm, that he didn't know me enough to touch me like that. He didn't listen which led to him and my friend fighting. Over me... seriously??! I didn't know guys actually did that kind of thing! The boy that would become my husband took his leather jacket off, came over to me, wrapped his jacket around my shoulders, and walked me away from them, saying, "Come on, you don't need to be around these idiots." Smooth! From that moment on, we were the best of friends.
The Dreaming Dog
Meet Little Miss. She is a six and a half year year old Black Lab/Blue Heeler mix. She is a sweet dog, full of love and devotion. And the energy that vibrates through her body when she is happy, it's never ending! When we are gone and come home, she is always right there to greet us, barking, whimpering, and shaking all over. You can definitely feel the love radiating off her! She is the best little dog you could hope for!
My darling Buggaboo, The last time we saw each other, hard words were spoken. You were angry about something involving your sister, taking it out on everyone, and that made me angry. The first thing I want to say is I'm sorry. I sometimes have trouble remembering that our situation is a hard one; and that being a teenager is hard. I said that you couldn't come back until you apologized to your sister and I. That was wrong and said out of anger. I want you to know that you are always welcome here. My home always has been, and always will be, your home. For a few brief, hard minutes, I turned into my mother, and that's not okay.
Let me introduce you to the animals in this photo. The bird is Lucy, our Senegal Parrot. The black and white pup is Little Miss, a Black Lab/Blue Heeler mix. The tan pup is the headliner, Casanova. We got him from a lady that rescued he and his siblings from the side of the road. When she advertised the puppies on Craig's List, she believed they were Chiweenies (Chihuahua/Dachsund). We later learned that they are in fact Dachshund/Hound, though we are not 100 percent certain what breed of hound. Because the puppies were rescues, their age is unknown too. We believe Casanova and Little Miss to be relatively close in age, and she is now six, turning seven in January.