motherhood, parenthood, Religious

Bloggy Blogger

I really should begin writing again. I should really get back into venting to myself. I feel like it helped me clear my mind and get my thoughts a bit together.

I think things are just never what we think we want them to be. I feel like every time we feel like we’re getting our feet on relatively solid ground, we’re shifted again to wet sand. I’m just tired. Just so tired fighting it. Trying to fight for my way when clearly that’s not His plan. He has something greater in mind for us and I think I’m still having a hard time having faith and trust in that plan. I need to make my home a safe place again where my head is clear and I actually want to be there and have a place to recharge my mind and soul instead of being completely overrun with to-dos and clutter.

motherhood, parenthood

“Even if You don’t, my hope is You alone”

Times are really trying recently. I don’t feel like I’m in the right head space most of the time. I feel like I’m stuck in a place where I’m supposed to be going and where I should be. I feel like I’m settling, but still fighting. I feel.. angry. I feel frustrated. I feel.. all around hopeless, I guess. And it’s a silly place to be because I am where I’m supposed to be. I am where I am called to be at this moment. But I don’t know why I’m still fighting it so. We’re all called to do different things. We’re all.. meant to be someone. And that someone may not be the someone you thought you wanted to be. Maybe I’m just hopped up on these period hormones. Maybe I’m just sleep deprived and coming down from a sugar binge. But every day has just been waves upon waves upon waves just crashing down. Every minute, every hour. It’s something. Whether it’s the 15 minutes repeating to the kids to put their pants on only to have them rip them right off 15 minutes later or whether it’s the dog or cat marking territory or having accidents when they don’t get enough attention, I feel like I’m always on watch. I can’t step away for a moment because in that single moment I have eyes away from the babies (fur babies included), they find something new to wreck. I need to be 100% with all of four of them all the time. Hearing the cat scratching on the floor means he more than likely peed outside his litter box. Not getting home before 4pm almost always guarantees an accident from the dog. Turn your eyes away from the kids for a moment and they’ve gotten a hand on knives or flung their feces across the room. I’m just… not sure I’ve been called to do the right thing. I don’t think I’m cut out for this. And, I know, this stage doesn’t last forever. But it’s really, really challenging. And, yes, I know every mother out there is probably going through the same thing and I’m just whining and griping about this universally difficult feat which in turn makes me almost always feel worse. Knowing I’m failing more than others. Or is it that all mothers are miserably failing but some are just more adept at hiding it from others?

motherhood, parenthood

Thus Begins The Descent

I feel like I’m going crazy. Let’s be real. I am going crazy.

Blame it on the lack of sleep. Blame it on the kids. Blame it on the lack of adult communication. But I don’t think I’m okay. I don’t know if I ever was okay. Not only am I in a constant crisis of searching for an identity, I am actually not sure if I ever had one. As I delve deeper into this social psychology class, I don’t even know if I identify with a group which apparently is super important in evolving as a person.

I had yet another melt down today. Except this time I actually thought about running away. Seriously. I thought about packing a bag and going to the gym for a few hours to clear my head since running away to Bora Bora wasn’t an option. I’m just so sick and tired of repeating my days and my words over and over and over again to these kids. It’s as if they’re falling on deaf ears. And, before you say it, I know. I know this is what being a parent is all about. Tolerating them through their mistakes and growing pains until they get it right. But that feels like it’ll happen in five billion light years. I’m tired of being on-call every single minute, every single second of every day. Seriously.

You turn around for one second and Dom has his hands on scissors. You turn around to handle that and Shane has taken off his pants and diaper. You turn around to take care of that issue and Dom has gotten a hold of a car track and chasing Donte around the living room trying to hit him over the head. You handle that and Shane has climbed a chair to try to get to the leftover Goldfish and smoothie on the table. You get him off safely and Dom is now climbing the hubby’s computer chair and pounding away on the keys. I’m just really, really, really tired. Tired of life. Tired of existing solely to have eyes on two danger-loving toddlers who seem to love going diaper-less but are not yet potty trained. All day. From the second their little eyes open to the very long hours their little bodies finally fall asleep.

I’m just tired of answering the same questions from my parents about the kids and life. I’m tired of justifying every aspect of my life to my parents. I’m tired of saying “I’m okay” when I’m really not only because there’s nothing anybody can really do to help. I’m tired of constantly feeling like I’m failing at life. I’m tired of feeling like I’m just wasting everyone’s time and energy in existing when I fail as a mother, wife, and daughter. Every few days or so, I end up going to a really dark place which has been taking me longer and longer to get out of. But during those good few days, they’re great. They remind me why I love where I am. They remind me that these moments too shall pass. They remind me that if I can just get through those dark patches, I will come back and continue fighting through the obscurity that is this stage of life.

But I guess for now I’ll just keep praying that He gives me the strength to make it through these


Late Night Grocery Runs

Today I went on a grocery run by myself after spending 2.5 hours putting the kids to bed. Of course I napped for about 30 min of it, woke up to the little one screaming his head off for a good 20 min, then finally was able to sneak out. It was the most blissful 1.5 hours I have spent this week. I definitely sang along to some oldies, took my sweet time browsing the aisles, and spent about 20 min trying to find the Plan B pill. I also had ask a customer service person who worked there to see if they knew where it was except he did not know what it was. We put our heads together and turned to the images of Google. Kind of embarrassing. Kind of excited to see how far technology has come.

Now it’s already after midnight and I’m craving a sandwich, wanting to pass out, and wind down with Sudoku and Community. It’s also 78 degrees in this home and I can’t breathe.

motherhood, parenthood

Something’s gotta give

Scheduler. Mother. Wife. Daughter. Student. Friend. Me.

Something’s gotta give.

I can’t. I can’t be everywhere and be there for everyone. I can’t be who I need to be for everyone. I can’t. I suppose the concrete identities I have to keep are the roles of mother, wife, and daughter. I suppose I could give up being a student and scheduler. Giving up being a scheduler isn’t so awful although keeping it could help bring a little money in. Giving up being a student is a bit more difficult since being a student propels me towards a path I would like to take to find out who I am, but I suppose that’s also something I can do later down the road as well.

I used to pity those mothers who put their entire lives on hold for years and years all for the sake of their children. Like they don’t have lives. Like their entire lives are their children. And all that pressure just amasses into something huge which could snowball into some serious resentment in the future. But lo and behold – I have become one of those pitiful people. Not that they are really pitiful; it’s actually quite a powerful and brave thing to do. To step up for the family. To become something they needed rather than who and what she wanted to become or was or is.

But I don’t think I’m that strong. I don’t think I can handle abandoning or shelving who I am for my family. Am I? Should I be? Could I be?


Why are the nights so short?

The days seem never-ending and the nights seem so fleeting. I think I watched 2.5 episodes of Rizzoli and Isles, did some work, took out some trash, and did some Sudoku.

What I really meant to do was.. watch an episode or two or Rizzoli and Isles, do some yoga or read a book, do devotions, and go to sleep early.

But here I am. 1220am. Letting Hulu lapse into the next episode of Rizzoli and Isles while mini-ranting on WordPress. Head muddled with way too much murkiness of my life. Living with family is always nice. We used to always live with family. We had a.. posse, if you will. We had a neighborhood we could fall back on. A community related by blood. But with our independence and our need to prove ourselves and find ourselves, family seems to be just a hindrance. How can we find out who we truly are and what we are capable of when we are constantly reminded of our past? Especially if that past does not hold the fondest of memories. Not the worst, just.. not the fondest.

Am I destined to repeat my parents’ lives? I would really rather not. But how can I break away from it when I am constantly immersed in it?

We really need to move out on our own.

Marriage, motherhood, parenthood

1 Peter 5:7

“Cast all your anxieties on Him because He cares for you.” 

Give it all to Him. He can take it. He knows where He wants you and He will lead you. There is no use in fretting over the little things of the world when He takes care of all. He takes care of the smallest creatures of this land. How can I have such a difficult time putting my trust in Him? Why do I fret and worry over the littlest things? Why do I allow myself to feel such anger and frustration over such trivial matters? My brain knows to not allow myself to be so easily frustrated. But my heart and emotions just sky rocket so easily. I really need time to myself. To reflect. To find myself. To really.. just be.

Carving out time to myself to fill myself up with His Word is really difficult with Hulu and Netflix. I keep telling myself that I will begin serious devotions and reflection tomorrow, but every evening it seems that after an episode or two of Rizzoli and Isles, it’s 1130pm and time for bed. Maybe tomorrow.. maybe tomorrow.