Yet so far away…

They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder but sometimes that isn’t always the case.  Sometimes absence can drive a bigger wedge between two people especially if the reason behind said absence is in bad taste.

Both people are left with that distant feeling where suddenly all of their good memories are ancient history and all of their bad memories seem like the only memories worth remembering.

How do you get back what you once had? Is there even a way to get it back? Or should both parties just accept the fact that it’s over?

via Daily Prompt: Distant

Help me understand…

I am always hearing how women tend to create imaginary situations in their heads and then one thought leads to another and so on and so forth.  But I don’t actually see the problem with that!

The way I see it, the more imaginary scenerios and situations we can come up with, the more prepared we will be in life!

“Hmm…if so and so said this and that to me, this is how I will smoothly respond and still have all of my self esteem in tact” and  “If Michael B. Jordan comes up to me and tells me I have a booger smeared on my cheek, this is how I will smoothly play it off” sounds a whole hella’va lot better than having so and so say this and that to me and then me standing there stuck on stupid or having Michael B. Jordan come up to me and tell me I have a booger smeared on my cheek and then me dying of embarrassment right in his face!

What’s wrong with being prepared?!

I mean the saying goes “expect the best but prepare for the worst” doesn’t it? I think that’s why a lot of dudes out there, when faced with “tricky situations” they resort to saying “I don’t know.” Well, you would know if you thought about the possibility of this situation happening, before!

You: Max, why did you cheat on me?

Max: I don’t know

Well, I know! It’s because Max, first off, is an idiot who couldn’t appreciate what he had and secondly, he didn’t think of the possibility of getting caught! Granted he shouldn’t have done it and if he thought of the possibility of cheating and all of the consequences that comes with cheating he wouldn’t have done it, now would he?

My point is, imaginary situations that are created in our heads aren’t all that bad, so keep on creating them!

 

via Daily Prompt: Imaginary

His Eyes

As she entered the room after tucking the children in, she asked her husband how his day was as she usually did.  He threw her a nonchalant “it was good” and she immediately felt a sense of panic travel up her spine and wrap her body like a cloak. Her husband was usually very talkative so she immediately knew that something was wrong.

“What’s wrong, honey” she asked reaching out to touch his hand.

He snatched it out of her reach and with eyes so empty responded “nothing”

After pleading and begging him to come out with what was wrong he finally did and her world rocked, tilted, turned then shattered.

“I’m not happy anymore, for the longest I felt like this marriage was a mistake”

She searched his eyes and found absolutely no trace of the man she once knew and fell in love with. What had she done wrong? Who was this cold man before her? What was she going to do? She’d given him ten years of her life, sacrificed so much to keep him and their family afloat and this was what she deserved in return?

She fell to her knees gasping for air, feeling as if the wind was sucked out of her. “Baby, please tell me what I can do to fix this; to make you happy”

“There’s nothing you can do, I haven’t been happy for a while”

He said all of this with too much ease, as if her pain had no effect on him.

Suddenly a quote she’d heard in a movie some years ago materialized in her mind, “A man never abandons ship unless he knows he has a lifeboat waiting for him nearby”

“Is there someone else?” she asked weakly, knowing the truth before he confirmed it by looking off to his right.

She stood on her knees shaking violently, tears gushing out of her eyes, “what am I supposed to do now?”

 

via Daily Prompt: Trace

Oh, Poop

Oh, no.  I cannot believe some parents out there! I’m not one to judge people’s parenting styles because after all it shouldn’t affect my children’s lives in any way, right? But when your child has poop and urine on his pants and he’s going around playing with other children and you are just sitting up there smiling like everything is all good and gravy in the navy, baby, that’s when I have to start questioning your intelligence!

The other day I took my kids to the park with a friend of mine and her daughter who happens to be my daughter’s newfound best friend.  There was another mother–or maybe she was a grandmother?–with a child there.  So, boom, the child was running from one end of the playground to the other as if he had endless amounts of energy.  He didn’t even stop for breath, he just kept going all the while his mom or grandmother–I’ll just call her his guardian–was literally on his tail trying to keep up with him.

I’ll have you know that this playground isn’t all that big…it’s literally just a swing set and this climbing thingy inside of a not-so-big-circle filled with…I think it’s called Wood chips?

But anyway, the guardian is over there getting a work out while me and my fellow mommy-friend were sitting there chatting it up talking about how different the south is from the north being she moved to North Carolina from Boston but was born in Brazil and I moved down from New York City.  We’re northerners still getting the feel of the south. Every once in a while the aspiring track star would come over to us, attempt to play catch with my nine month old who wouldn’t participate for obvious reasons (and yes, I did what I could to protect her fact from the big bouncy red ball–that belonged to my daughter’s friend by the way– but this kid was so confused as to why my little girl wasn’t catching the ball) and then he would be off again.

My four-year old and her best friend came and sat down with us not only with their doll babies but with these huge Batman and Superman action figures.  The girls explained to us that the toys belonged to the little boy and I thought nothing of it since neither the boy or his guardian seemed to mind.

He ran over to us again and again and then finally it hit me like a fistful of mud. An icky odor in the air.  I figured the garbage truck was nearby but why would I only smell the funk briefly then have it go away?

On one of the boys returns and departures my deaf nose (“deaf language” for strong sense of smell due to loss of one sense–in my case my hearing) zeroed in on the direction of the funk then my deaf eyes (“deaf language” for heightened sense of vision due to loss of one sense.  Think “you lose one sense your other senses become stronger”)  zeroed in on the ball at the seat of his pants.   As he kept coming and going with his guardian huffing and puffing behind him I noticed the ball at the seat of his pants kept moving south then it stopped just below his buttocks.  But what was it? And did he sit in mud? Granted earlier in the day it had rained but the sun had since came out and pretty much dried everything up so my first assumption was that he sat in mud…somewhere.

As a deaf woman I use my eyes for pretty much everything; they do the job that my ears can’t do plus the job they were meant to do so essentially I see and hear with my eyes. So, between trying to keep my eyes on my daughters, have a grown up conversation, and trying to figure out the mystery at hand, I admit it took me a little while to connect the dots.

At last I guess the guardian had her fill on exercise and came to sit with us and like magic the little boy stopped running around so much, he stayed close by, as did the odor as did the lines that would soon connect all of the dots in my head.

So let’s look at all of the clues, we have a boy, we now see wetness in the front of his pants, we have this sickening odor, “mud” smears on one thigh of his pants and now on his shirt.  The forced polite smile plus stiff body language whenever the boy would come near displayed by my fellow mommy-friend told me something was really wrong with this picture.  I couldn’t put my finger on it and I wasn’t even sure I wanted to if I could.

I disengaged myself from my adult conversation. I looked at the guardian. I looked at my mommy-friend  I looked at the boy. I looked at my oldest daughter.  I looked at my daughter’s friend. I looked at the big red bouncy ball right by my foot. I looked at my youngest daughter.

The guardian was laughing about something she was discussing with my mommy-friend, my mommy-friend was now looking like she was in an internal fight with herself, the boy had more “muddy” splotches all over his shirt and…face? My oldest was putting on her best superhero voice for Batman unaware that her mother was finally putting her Criminal Justice Degree in use to be a detective,her friend played along with her, my youngest seemed to be uneasy about something and that smell just kept getting stronger.

And then I was like…

“Oh, Shit”

Literally.

Now, just last week I binge-watched Containment on Netflix (and absolutely LOVED IT!) so I was a little paranoid about ending up like the people in the show.  I wasn’t trying to go out like that and I wasn’t trying to have my kids go out like that.  Nah, man, I wasn’t having it.  I made eye contact with my mommy-friend and we had a little conversation using only our eyes. What an intense conversation that was.

When the guardian finally got up to leave, the boy put up a fight and went into a screaming match and hit notes that would make a bird jealous.

“Did he really poop on himself?” I asked my mommy-friend

“Yeah, and you know I’m sick and my nose is stopped up but I could still smell it” she replied, bewildered.

We sat there not believing what we had just witnessed.

The strength to let go

 

He was a big guy with a tough outer appearance who obviously had a rough childhood.  His rugged looks had been the only thing that kept bad company away but on the inside he longed for someone to call his own.

But when he finally found someone who looked beyond his surface and deep into his heart, someone who would finally be his own, he didn’t know how to fully let himself trust her.  He couldn’t let her in.

It is true when they say that hurt people, hurt people because that’s exactly what he did. He threw daggers into her heart over and over and each time she would simply pull it out and smile through her tears and pain just to let him know that she wasn’t going to go anywhere.  Still, his childhood had him hardwired into believing that true love didn’t really exist and people would only stick with you until they found something new.

After years of being broken down and burned by this man she finally picked up the shattered pieces of her heart that lay in his wake and walked out the door and made a vow to never look back.

her strength was infused with anger and exhaustion, she could no longer take the uncertainty that came with trying to build a future with a man who seemingly did not want to.  She could no longer find it within herself to believe his words when he would tell her he loved her because his actions showed otherwise.

Through the years she’d lost herself trying to love a man who was incapable of loving and accepting love.  She took in her surroundings and swallowed against the bile that was building up within the pit of her stomach.  She was angry that her efforts were unappreciated, afraid that she was too damaged to love again.  Will she now be the one to hurt another?

This would be her first time facing the world alone and she didn’t think she could.  She wrestled with the option of turning back around and going back to something more familiar even if that meant she would have to endure more pain and heartache but the small resilient voice in the back of her mind persuaded her to put one foot before the other and keep going forward.

She didn’t know where she was going to go, didn’t know what she was going to do but she did know she deserved to be happy so she made happiness her destination.  She was determined to heal and when the time was right she would love again.

via Daily Prompt: Infuse

And Then This Happened.

I know I shouldn’t laugh and this really shouldn’t be funny but I have a confession to make.  Both of my children fell off the bed less than 24 hours apart from each other.  And I laughed all three times…I know! I’m a horrible mommy! And don’t worry no child was harmed in the making of this blog.

So, this is how it went down (no pun intended.)

Ever since my 9 month old discovered the joys of crawling a month ago, she’s been so obsessed with crawling to the edge of the bed and looking down.  Of course I would be right there gripping her legs and pulling her back whenever I felt she’d seen enough.  But as the month progressed, she’d only gotten faster as if conspiring to give Flash a run for his title.  I’m a mom, I make mistakes, so this particular day, me and my two little girls were watching a movie for Family Movie Night.  Unfortunately, the attention spans of a 9 month old and 4-year-old are incredibly short.  They like to move around–especially the new crawler.

My four-year old was the first to get off the bed to twirl around, toss a balloon into the air, fall down on purpose, tummy crawl, roll around, speak an unknown language and burst out laughing for no real reason.  Aside from the fact that she is indeed a little…coo-coo she was fighting her sleep with all her might.

Every little sister wants to be like her big sister, right? So, my 9 month old attempted to follow suit but under my close supervision, of course, it was kind of difficult for her. At first.  I handed her the balloon my oldest was playing with to keep her entertained while I quickly put my phone on the charger.  It literally took me all of two seconds and by the time I turned back, my little baby was on the go. She pushed the balloon off the bed and a split second later she went after it with no hesitation. It all happened so quickly, I couldn’t get to her quick enough.

She believed she could fly, but gravity told her that the lie detector determined that was a lie.

I yelped loudly, as did my 4-year old who, just a few moments before had been too wrapped up in a deep conversation with the…wall perhaps, to even notice her sister was about to take a leap.

My youngest landed on her stomach with support from her hands (are her reflexes on point, or what?) Of course the shock of falling scared her and she shed a few tears but once I placed her back on the bed she found something new to play with and all was forgotten.  She was back to her old-laughing-and-happy-self which made me laugh because I was kind of impressed that she had taken the fall so well.

My oldest, on the other hand stepped out of crazy-mode long enough to tell me it wasn’t funny and that her little sister could have hurt herself.  She re-examined her sister (because she didn’t trust that mommy examined her sister well enough–I mean who would trust their mom after laughing, right?) and when she was satisfied with her sister’s state of health, she too, started laughing and went right back to her crazy-zoo.

Now, fast forward to the next day.

Once upon a time I was a “bubble-wrap” mom but then I adopted the ideals of being a little more hands on with my children.  And by hands on I mean I let them make their mistakes and falls so they could experience in real-time what cause and effect is all about.  If you don’t tie your sneakers before taking off in a sprint, you might fall and make the ground bleed or If you run into a wall, the wall might get hurt, you know, stuff like that. So, when my four-year-old decided (without consulting with management first!) it was a good idea to attempt to do a handstand off of the bed while we were watching our morning cartoons I just sat there watching her.  Who knows? She probably would have succeeded. Did you like…taste how much sarcasm that was lathered in?

So, as she was inching off the bed, head first, hands ready to support her weight my youngest and I just sat there silently not knowing what the hell this girl was up to.  I didn’t want to startle her so I opted not to say a word, I just watched. And then it happened.

She supported her weight for all of a .05 seconds then her body went to the right and landed with a thud.  Think of  the second and third phase of doing a cartwheel. That was her.  She popped up and immediately said “WHOA! I’m okay!”

She and I both ended up in a fit of laughter, I promise you I couldn’t breathe but when we finally cooled down I asked her the million-dollar question, “What were you trying to accomplish?” to which she responded “I was trying to do a handstand! But…I don’t know what happened!” Her legs were not long enough for her to successfully pull off that stunt, that’s what happened! I asked her if she was hurt and she told me–through more laughter–that she was fine.

You would think one fall would have been enough for her for the day, but no.  Later on in the day after she argued her case against taking a nap, she miscalculated how close to the edge she was laying and as she was in the midst of rolling her eyes and rolling over so her back would be facing me, she rolled straight off the bed.

Oh, she was mad that mommy was right ,again, about her being sleepy but I guess it’s safe to say that my laughter is contagious because she couldn’t stay mad for long. She also couldn’t stay awake for long, either.

It’s been about a week or so, she hasn’t fallen off the bed again and she hasn’t put up any resistance during nap-time, and the icing on the cake? After all of that falling, my floor didn’t break! (I forgot to mention, but yes, we have carpet)

 

At the End of The Tunnel

Survive

Isn’t it amazing how much you can learn and come up with when you’re forced to enter survival mode? New-never-before-thought of inventions are born, new lifestyles come to life.  You learn what you can live without and realize what you can cut back on, you take something that is meant for one thing and use it for an entirely different thing.  Then even when you emerge from survival mode and enter comfort mode, those life hacks you learned during your low moment can still be applied.

Let me use myself as an example.

About a month or two after my youngest was born things got a little tight financially.  When faced with the decision to either buy sanitary napkins or something cheap to make for dinner, of course I chose to feed my family, but what was I going to do about the impending dreaded visit from my….”Aunt”? I knew that I would bleed through tissue so I wouldn’t even allow myself to go there.  I also knew that my youngest had outgrown her Newborn diapers and was now a size 1 so here I had all of these Newborn diapers just sitting around.  Let’s just say, they absorb much better than regular pads! I call this finding the “Struggle pad”

Not long after running into financial problems we unfortunately lost our apartment and had to live in a hotel (luckily, for only one week!) The hotel had a kitchenette area so we were able to cook our own food which was great! One morning I decided to make pancakes (from scratch. Haven’t made pancakes from the box in years–and yes I’m showing off!) I made a whole stack of pancakes just for my four-year old to ask me to pass her the syrup. Crap.  I didn’t have any and forgot to buy some! (I’ll have you know the hotel was basically in the middle of nowhere and there was no store within walking distance and I didn’t have a car) But I did have milk, brown sugar and cinnamon! The perfect blend of the three (preferably heated up) had my daughter and I like “Syrup? what’s syrup?” We call this concoction “The special stuff”

When I find myself in situations that are meant to break me, sure I go through a moment where it’s like “oh, my God, this is the end, there’s no light at the end of the tunnel” but then a little voice in my head yells above all of the negative thoughts and tells me, “use it.” For the longest I never understood what that meant until I was forced into survival mode when I moved to North Carolina from New York City and didn’t know the lay of the land at all.  I couldn’t find a job or affordable daycare and therefore was pretty desperate and feeling worthless.  There was that voice saying “use it” and It finally clicked.  Though I haven’t made any money from it, I thereafter started using my life experiences and putting them on paper in a story-form. I notice that my writing skills grow with each story I write and I therefore feel myself grow.  It’s like I write my way out of a dark circle.  I call these creations “Potential-books-that-need-to-be-published.”

Granted it’s not a good feeling to have to be put through rough spots but at least I can create a story from it, right?  (I promise I will finish at least one….some time soon so you guys can read it! I have a really bad habit of starting one story then having another idea–A.K.A another life obstacle–pop into my head–and life–then dropping the first story then continue with the second and so on and so forth but I will get my shit together I promise!)

Did that make sense?

At last, the final thing that being in survival mode teaches you is who is really there for you and who isn’t.  Through all of my trials and tribulations, I’ve learned that not everybody around you wants the best for you.  They tend to usually keep you around for their own benefit and would have nothing to offer you when you are in need.  I call this discovery, “Growing up”

Yep, surviving caused me to grow up.

via Daily Prompt: Survive