just share

so there are a few conversations i have way too often with people.

they vary in frequency depending on life situations.

the parenting discussions don't happen quite as frequently now that my kids are bigger. there are no longer the talks of breastfeeding, co-sleeping, vaccinations and blah blah blah things that don't really matter because in the end every mother mothers the way that she feels is right.

but discussions often lead to three things:
my parenting
my finances
how all homeless people/people on welfare are looking for free handouts because they're too lazy to work

back when faith was a tiny babe i belonged to the nest, which is a follow up to the knot...that site where brides pat each other on the back for being pretty enough to have captured a man.

there was a discussion on food stamps and i immediately got bashed for collecting them at the time.
never mind that cory was working full time, we were both going to school full time, and the only way for me to go to work would be to dump faith in a dhs approved day care because there was no way we could've afforded it. it was one of the worst internet experiences i've ever had. i was a new mother doing the best she could and here were these other privileged women who had never known what it was to go without telling me that what i was doing was shameful. that i was letting them support me because i was too lazy to go out & get a job.

ever since then i've kept it quiet when we've gone through hard times and collected food benefits.
going through the line at the grocery store with 3 kids in tow means i hang my head low & turn on super stealth mode so that no one around me sees i'm using an ebt card.

but people never stop to hear my story. instead they judge me because they think i shouldn't have children if i can't afford to feed them without assistance. and these are the same pro-life nut jobs who would've judged me should i have chosen to not have those children. and the thing is that fuck you, my kids are amazing. they're going to grow up, do wonderful things and make an impact in their community. if my body could handle it i'd go full dugger and pop out dozens more. so basically this argument is completely invalid.

and that's enough ranting about my situation. but really my only goal was to use our family as an example.

the numbers of people sitting on street corners with signs and cups asking for help has increased drastically. it's impossible to drive through downtown okc and not see them huddled in their sleeping bags, crowding around the bus station hoping for some warmth on their bodies and in their bellies.

about 3 weeks ago a beautiful woman struck up a conversation with me. i was sitting by the fountains in one of our city gardens, reading. she was snacking on some crackers and drinking a bottle of water.

i remembered seeing someone i greatly admire on twitter say "sometimes homeless people just want someone to talk to" and i immediately put down my book, ignored my phone and gave her my full attention.

she had come here from trinidad to find a job and have a better life. she'd come with a friend & they had great plans. now she's found herself here, with an expired green card and nowhere to go. green card means no job. no job means no money. and money, of course, means no housing. she had nothing more than the clothes on her back and those snacks that some kind soul had bought her earlier in the day.

she didn't ask me for money. she didn't ask me for food. she just wanted to talk. she tearfully told me that none of the three churches she tried that morning could help her and she didn't know where she was going to go.

i gave her all i had on me, which was $4 in cash, a handful of change, and a free drink voucher to starbucks. that free drink voucher, you guys. her eyes lit up & she exclaimed "i can get a hot chocolate!"

and hers is another story that should be heard. it's not a case of being lazy, a junkie needing another fix, or someone trying to swindle you out your obviously hard earned 20 dollar bill. she was a friendly young woman who was down on her luck and just needed a helping hand.

we put so much of our self worth in our things, don't we? our money, our houses, our cars, our clothes. and in the end does it really matter? if someone is sitting there asking for our help it's not our job to judge them publicly or humiliate them. it's not our job to interrogate them or hand them job applications telling them to get a job. our job is to love.

and love is one of those things that so many of us are lacking. it never ceases to amaze me how many people have lost basic human compassion. they forget that they're just a few bad circumstances from being in the exact same place others are.

lumping everyone into the same category does them such a disservice. and it actually hurts us more than anyone else. to find ourselves so calloused and angry that we can't just let our guard down and trust that to those people a cold bottle of water, or whatever small amount of change you have in your car won't be appreciated.

i can't tell you how many countless times i've rolled down my window and given someone whatever i had on me, whether it was a 10 dollar bill, a granola bar, a free voucher to some food somewhere along with a smile that i haven't been thanked over and over again.

and you know what? my children see that. they witness cory and i spread love when we can. and that means that they will grow to be compassionate people who will hopefully do the same some day.

because in a world where so much is wasted we really do have so much to give.


and a side note: all these thoughts were spawned by a local business that exchanged hateful words of judgment towards those in need using their public business named social media. it shocked me, saddened me, and has been at the forefront of my mind for the last 2 days.

but the irony of the situation is that she did nothing but solidify my feelings. i'm using her as an example to my children today as to why love is so much more powerful than hate. why we should never judge a book by its cover, and to always remember compassion.

so really maybe i should be thanking her. and the people of this city should be thanking her. because she can be damn sure i'll be giving as much as we possibly can to everyone i come across that's in need.


love, guys. it's all that matters... so cliche to say, but so true.

and to quote a friend on facebook "It is just food..share it".

christmas when you're broke

it's trying to make memories that don't require dozens of gifts under the tree.

it's making as many gifts as you can from the things you have laying around.

it's hoping that they'll hold onto the memories of making hot chocolate from a mix they made themselves, eating cookies i made them from scratch and won't remember the lack of extravagant gifts.

it's being grateful that the grandparents always go overboard, and trying not to feel like total shit because they only have 2 presents each to open from us.

it's stuffing their stockings with dollars trinkets and hoping that will help things feel more full.

it's knowing that you strive every day to teach them that love and kindness are oh so important, and that things don't really matter in the end.

all these thoughts have been running through my head after talking with friends who had about 20 dollars to spend on each of their kids.

every time i talk to my mom lately she commends me on being tough & not complaining about our financial situation. and the thing is that i actually feel fortunate most of the time.

we have what we need. we can never be homeless. and we have more time to spend together than most families do.

i wouldn't trade this for a life of cory being gone all the time, only seeing him for half an hour each day, the kids never knowing what it's like to lounge on the couch in the afternoon and watch movies with him.

but at times like christmas it makes the life we've chosen a tad more difficult.

i'm having to force myself to focus on the good. our beautiful tree, the hand me down decorations that make me smile because of their history, the fact that my kids ask to watch "nightmare before christmas" at least once a day.

my house is warm, my fridge is full of delicious junk food, and we can afford toilet paper.

what more can a girl ask for really?

just some reassurance

there has been an awful lot of discussion here lately about babies. the fact that so many friends have been having beautiful little spit machines isn't helping.

after having otto i knew that we needed to take permanent measures to guard against any more pregnancies. because i have this problem...every time a kid grows too big i yearn for another.

and that yearning has been there for a good 3 years, with our otto nearing 4.

i've been content this whole time with it just being a wish...a desire...but knowing that everyone was with me in otto being our final creation. it'll be fine. we'll get a puppy, and everything will be just fine.

then people start talking about babies. people being cory. and he hasn't actually said "i want another baby" but when i talk about it he just gets quiet..and damnit, man..i've been married to you for nearly 10 years. i know what that means.

before you all think that 4 weeks from now i'll be announcing a pregnancy, there are definitely no plans to have unprotected sex at the moment. it's the absolute wrong time...it just is....

and my biggest fear? the darkness that comes after baby.

i think that post partum depression is still one of those taboo things that people rarely talk about.

and when they do it gets shrugged off as something that's just one of those things..it just happens. baby blues. you'll be fine. shake it off.

while discussing babies last night cory confirmed what i was afraid of...

"you haven't been the same since otto"

and it's true.

everyone praises me on my honesty, but this is on the verge of being too raw for me to share... because it's something i fight within myself every single day.

i still don't think i'm back to myself. i've been feeling incredibly nostalgic lately. which means i've been dusting off the oldest pictures in flickr and our old youtube account. the smile i had before having him were so genuine. now everything feels so..just, not real.

and don't get me wrong. most days are good. but some days are still a serious struggle. and it can be anything that sets me off. a sad news story, a sad movie... any number of things.

even life itself can do it.

right now it's the stress of dealing with angry groupon customers because i'm not returning their calls fast enough even though i have a dozen voicemails waiting for returned calls. it's just too much right now.

it's money. money always comes into play. having bare cabinets two days before the end of the month..biding our time with spaghetti night after night.

i don't regret otto. i would never ever. i was just expressing my deep gratitude for birthing him the other night. and telling cory that i felt sorry for men..that they would never know that feeling. that rush of oxytocin. the feeling that if you can do that you can very literally do anything. his dimples make everything worth it. that child is my joy. 

but it was so hard to see... and some days i find myself in that haze again. when i think about what life would be like without me here. if everyone would be okay. and the answer is always no. my children need a mother. my husband needs a wife. 

and i wonder why it is that we, as women, rarely talk about our experience. whether it's baby blues, post partum depression, or even psychosis. it's not something we should be ashamed of. we need to be in it all together, not against each other.

the thing that really amazes me is our readiness to discuss child birth and breastfeeding, but when we talk about the low that comes after those 9-10 months are over it's always done in hushed tones. 

i long for some realness.. for us to reassure each other. it'll be okay. the fog will lift. or maybe it won't, but we'll find ways to deal with it.

dwell on the good, not the bad. because there's so much good around us. and to take care of ourselves. it's okay to spend a day laying in bed being sad. and it's okay to make yourself go outside and face life, because otherwise you'll drown. 

i'm still normal. it's all okay.

storms

Last night I stood at our back door watching quarter sized hail beat down on our porch. I stuffed towels in the cracks of the windows in our living room, trying in vain to keep the damage at a minimum.

It was so loud, like there were thousands of tiny trolls standing on our metal roof pounding it with tiny hammers.

I had the kids laying on the floor in bedroom, far away from the window. A trip to the emergency room due to flying glass wasn't high on my list of things I wanted to do.

I walked from the TV to the back door, back and forth back and forth.

Texting my mom and sister, letting them know what the TV was saying in case my mom and dad had to take cover since their power had gone out. The storm was so much worse there. Half of the tree in their front yard is gone.

Oklahoma. I've spent so much time defending it and every spring/summer it tries to destroy us. And it hasn't even been kind enough to blow our house away so we can get a new one...

It was such a late night...restless with all my offspring crowding my bed. Cory woke me up and told me to move from the bedroom floor to the couch. I don't even remember moving to the floor.

Then offspring #3 followed me to the couch.

Sleep has been difficult to catch lately, although it's so desperately needed. 

Our bed was comfortable...when it was new in 1973. 

Every morning we wake up with sore backs, wishing for change.

Extra coffee has been not just desired, but required.

I've been wondering a lot lately when we'll catch our big break. It seems like 2012 thus far has brought with it busted tires, broken dishwashers, headaches, weird rashes, sleepless nights, and frustration.

I was expecting things to change and get easier. And I'm still waiting.

To be completely honest with you, I'm no longer in the mood to be optimistic. This glass is half fucking empty. We're good people. Cory works his ass off. I wake up every morning and be the best mom I can be, which is pretty damn good. And we still struggle.

We've spent so long being tested... I think we've proven we're worthy of good things. 

Maybe we need to start going to that mega church, dropping 10% of what we need to eat into the bucket, and praying to someone we can't even see to send us checks in the mail.

All those people are prospering, right? Maybe that's the key..to stop thinking & just start doing what I've been told my whole life to do. Because being a good person & working hard just isn't paying off. 

Today I'm not in the mood to count my blessings. I'm in the mood to hold them and watch TV in bed all day, then pop a few ibuprofens to soothe my sore muscles. If I had money I'd go buy a bottle of wine and drink the entire thing after they've gone to sleep, waiting for all these thoughts to go numb. 

And I happen to think that's okay. I think it's okay to have bad days..days when you don't feel like playing the happy go lucky role that for some reason everyone expects you to play. 

Life is beautiful, yes. But sometimes life is hard. Sometimes it sucks so much that you just want to crawl into bed and forget it all...drown out the noise around you and just stop thinking.

And when it's over hope to emerge with a new outlook on things...a fresh view on life, knowing that once the storm has passed everything will feel just fine yet again.

This is me begging Oprah to give me money

Confession: Unless I take time each morning to make myself feel pretty, I spend the rest of the day being totally useless. That means that I'm super productive 3 days out of the month. And just so you know, "make myself feel pretty" means putting on a good bra, red lipstick, and straightening my hair. You could either view this as my being confident enough to feel pretty with minimal effort, or that my standards are just that pathetically low.

And mornings are the worst. Seriously. They mean getting all three children up, fed, dressed, and halfway presentable in time to get Faith to school. All three kids..just so 1 can go to school. And my boys are just like me. They'd sleep til noon if everyone would just leave them the hell alone. Just like me as well, when they're forced to awaken before they're good and ready they're almost impossible to be around for the rest of the day.

That was taken yesterday morning. A rare weekday that Cory had off. Breakfast was delicious bacon and fried potatoes instead of the usual cereal and toast. And that was only because the boys got to sleep in and Cory took Faith to school. Mornings like that always leave me wondering how we can scheme to get money without him ever having to leave the house again. 

Seriously. Him being gone means my crazy bitch tendencies go through the roof. I really don't think it's too much to ask...for everyone else's tax dollars to go to my husband staying home so we can live a comfortable life without having to lift a finger. 

Spending our days napping in the sun while having picnics and quickies in the afternoon sound so much better than our current set up. 

Please don't tell me I'm the only person who thinks about writing some billionaire a kind letter asking for a simple donation of about $25,000 a year. Because truth is, we live on about $20,000 right now..have for the last few years..and it's actually served us pretty damn well. No rent, mortgage, or car payment means we can live on less than what some people spend on hair products. And to someone like Oprah I'm fairly certain $25,000 a year could disappear and she'd never know the difference. 

So O, if you happen to stumble across this at some point...

Gurrrrllllll (I think she'd appreciate the irony behind me calling her "Gurrrrllll" for some reason), you're lookin' hot these days. (Really, she is.)

I read while in line at the grocery store on some tabloid (because we all know that's the real news) that you offered Stedman a shit load of money so he'd marry you. I think the number was somewhere around $100 million. 

So I really don't think a measly amount of $25,000 a year would effect your quality of life at all.

I watched your show religiously in high school (translation: when there was nothing else on TV besides Maury and Judge Joe Brown) so really I've been paying you for years. Therefore, I feel like you owe me. Big time.
Everyone knows you're the Santa of the free world and I feel kinda cheated that you never gave me a car or even a fancy $50 candle or ceramic flat iron.

Hook a sister up, k? 

Fist bump. (She strikes me as the kinda lady who enjoys a good fist bump. It's probably how she and Gayle greet each other when they go out to coffee to decide on who will rule the free world next.)

*You guys, this might be the dumbest most asinine blog post I've ever written.