Where do I start? Let me say that my dad is always there for me. Whether in good times or in bad times. He is even there for me when I need help. From playing choo-choo train to my room and tucking me in my bed at night and keeping the boogieman away so that I could sleep, to going with me to my competitions. He was my cheerleader. He always showed me love and support. Helped me with homework when I didn't understand it.
The part that no one can tell you how you’re supposed to feel, what you’re supposed to do. What the right thing to do is. What you need to do.
Food fuels us with energy to function, enhances the immune and disease prevention systems, consociates us, thus, leaning our lives towards the positive.
There has been nothing easy about the 2020 COVID-19 pandemic. We are all struggling and what I'm about to tell you, I am sure many of you have experienced as well. In March, I had been furloughed from my job as a waitress. I have had to apply for unemployment. I am living with my parents (though I now jokingly say they live with me and just happen to pay for everything). I am single with little social life, and even less now as the majority of my friends live in other states. I have done the best I can to remain in contact with them thanks to social media and online game nights, but they do not compare to the real thing of being with them in person.
I have been a mom for almost 7 months now, well 16 if you count the time my daughter was in my belly. In my short time being a mom, I am just beginning to understand some ways my own mom must have felt. And so Mom, here's a letter for you.
Dad or Father - what is the difference? is there a difference?
I have been learning a lot over the course of this past year. Even now, as I look at my past self several months ago, there is a heavy sense of embarrassment. Possessiveness and jealousy comes easy to someone who is not used to receiving the emotional support they crave as a human being wired for connection.
When my mother and father first divorced I adjusted to it in a strange way. My dolls in my dollhouse never had the dad, he always lived in a shoe box or on a shelf in my closet. Other than that I was fine with adjusting to having to go to my fathers every other weekend and only having a stuffed dog and a box of crayons at his house. But my mother told me something when I got older that I thought was strange and a little sweet. I never wanted my mom to marry again because I thought that meant they would leave us. Now I know that is common for young children to assume. My mother ended up with this man who later became my step dad and like most step parents, you don't truly see them for how amazing they can be until you're grown up.
Sometimes I find myself wishing I was all alone. Having the house to myself for a quest breakfast, a quiet midday nap or a quiet dinner. Then I feel a tinge of guilt. I'm a mother, not an individual, right?