don't

You are gone

I don"t know how to love anymore 

How are you little girl?

Dear Layla,

Happy Sunday darling, you're not home today.  You are not at your dad's either.  Two days ago, you started at - I don't know what to call it - a care centre.  Your sisters call it camp, but it's not.

"why aren't you normal, why are you like this so I have to take you there.... I don't have to but I did, and I am not ready......"

I've been dreading putting you into an outside care place since you were about 9 months old - you know, that time when I snapped out of my denial - that you were going to be my special needs baby.

"so much is coming up for me.. why am I not married - ugh.  The thoughts are crazy, I wish you were home, all of your work makes my brain not go squirrel-y and it is right now, I'm going nuts"

You are  only 11 and you are probably wondering where the hell I went, why have I abandoned you.

"I'm crying , I've been crying since Friday, and I don't want this to be your life, I don't want to have to give up on any of my babies, and I'm giving up on you"

I hope you are enjoying and relaxing and getting doted on  (by a bunch of effing strangers that I don't even know".   You're in a home.  It's weird.

You've shaped my life over these past 11 years and I am not sure where to put this particular leg of our journey.

We are going to come and visit you tomorrow, Maya and Sabrina and I - maybe Julia.  I've taken the week off to give myself some time to work through this transition of you getting outsourced.  I know you are wondering where I am, SO AM I.  I don't like this feeling of having to put you in a care home.  UGH!

"make this stop, make yourself not be disabled, just make this go away"

It's Sunday, it's Father's Day.  I haven't stopped crying in two days, and I just wish someone would wrap me up a warm blanket and cradle me.  I'm jealous little dude, you got a team of caregivers to yourself - I just want a good human to grow old with (shoot me right now)

Believe me whoever is reading this, this is very hard for me.

Honey, we have so many amazing, loyal, generous and loving friends and family in our life - we are surrounded and supported but me your mum feels sad and very alone right now.

"Can someone just make me breakfast...."

That's it for now, baby girl, I'll see you tomorrow.  I hope you are showing the caregivers your sass, your fire and your charm.  Give it to them good - that you definitely don't need me for.  I love you and I miss you so much

"I can take care of you fully and completely, I'll carry you forever honeybunny, I'll carry you til I'm dead"

- Mummy xox (Sunday June 20th.2020)

Challenged Parenting

Doing Something. Towards Solutions. 

This time it was late in 2007 and Sabrina was a little over two years and baby Maya was 4 years old.  Michael and I were going through dark times.  He was in a bad place and I was left to hold the fort, but I was in the dark myself.  Unsure of what was happening to my partner.  But I knew this was big and I um, started having what I know now to be panic attacks.  There were times that I was curled into a ball in a corner of a room while the girls played and I would pick a friend of Michael to call.  "What is going on....?"

The answers ranged but were similar in that they listened and told me that I would be alright. No answers but lots of comfort.

2017 and no answers.  But I don't ask questions that no longer matter.

I was not comforted, I was afraid of how I was going to function through this round of tough times.

I found a listing for a parent group in a local newspaper and it sounded interesting.  I called, went through an intake process over the phone and I was invited to meet with this group when it met one night a week.  And there was babysitting so to bring the children.

There was a couch and two facilitators and several parents that greeted me.  After introductions, parents one by one shared.  My turn, I just cried...  box of kleenex was handed to me and I let it all out.  

The next few weeks I cried less and between blowing my sobbing nose in tissues, I started to share and I put everything that was happening on the table.  We would together commisserate, advise, relate to one another, ask question, discuss, refer to authors and books, make notes all while drinking hot cups of tea on big comfy couches. 

A respectful group in a safe place.  I focussed on parenting and on the needs of my children - one step at a time.  Here I was able to blow away the clouds of life and hunker down on parenting skills and building family in times of uncertainty and in times of my own anxiety elevating.

No one thing can fix everything.  But because I had focus and I CHOSE to focus this period on my children's best I was able to find some footing and the parent group helped direct all of this.

I'm Alright

As of 2018, I am a divorced woman. 

A good number of people have told me over my years of being separated that due to my "baggage", I probably won't marry again.  

These many people telling me this are my family members.  Opinions full of support and wisdom and oh such hope.  My family members refer to my life with my three daughters as "baggage".  You wondering where I'm headed with this?

Here.

Maya, Sabrina and Layla don't like being referred to as baggage. They think it's rude and mean.  They take offense to those words, as they should.

By the way, I tell my 3 baggages things.  I tell them to respect their elders.  But please do honour the feelings of whatever comes up for you behind that respect. I can't be responsible for other people's actions, but I can best guide my girls.

What I don't share is my family members telling me that no man will take me for more than a sex object, because of all that baggage.   

The people saying this are stupid.  

This talk is not supportive nor is it true.  You call my life baggage, I will correct you.  

I will marry again. And to that future man of mine, you will be the luckiest guy in this good world;  My kids say so.

Hugs n kisses (just not to the stupids)

Jen