I Would Like To Introduce You To My Real Life Friends

Trust me,  you are going to want to read this one through to the end....

It was almost exactly a year ago when I started this journey with you all. The blog went up in October but it wasn't until Dec 23rd that my first article ran and a lot of you found me.

I was about to pull out of the parking lot at the grocery store when all of a sudden my blog email inbox started up with messages. Now I'm not saying 1 or 2 came in, I'm talking about several hundred within the first hour. I'm a little dull so I'm sitting there thinking "who the heck are all these people and how has my blog suddenly become the place to hang out?"

Now mind you I put up this blog and I told no one. There is obviously no family to tell, I didn't tell any of my friends, I just put it up and went along my merry little way, writing for myself and anyone else who cared to read. For all intents and purposes I had walked into the middle of the forest that is the Internet, stuck a twig in the ground, and suddenly thousands of people were noticing that one tiny twig.

8,000 people that day to be exact and I had no idea who any of them were.

I drove home, pulled up the blog, looked at the traffic reader, and realized that an article I had submitted to XOJane 7 weeks prior had published that morning and people were now pouring into my blog from there. 

It was about then that the enormity of what I had done became apparent. I had told the entire world that I had disowned my family and then they followed me here where I proceeded to tell them that my husband was abusive and I had been raped.

Because that's not scary at all....

Hurry Up!

Gah I have so much to fill you guys in on but I know so many people are busy and traveling for the holiday's that I figured I would wait until things calmed down a bit, which for totally selfish reasons I would like to speed up a bit. So could you all hurry up and get back here please? I have a few things to tell you about my ex, a new boy in my life, I want to talk about New Year's resolutions, and oh yea I still have a few people that want to say "hi."

So until you all get back and because it's a "No Work Weekend," I'll leave you with a few other things to read.

**Dear Haters, Stop Judging My Single Mom Status. I'm Not To Blame.** "I am first and foremost a single mother not because of the circumstances that led to my single mom status, but I am a single mother because the father of my children decided that he did not want to be their father anymore."

**Natural Remedies For Cold and Flu Season.** "I am one of those moms that worries about overusing antibiotics every time my kids get sick, but luckily many illnesses can be treated right from the cabinets of your very own kitchen."

Also, for once I'm not talking about myself! Check out this article where I step out of my own brain for a minute and talk about someone else: **Lucky Puppy Wants You To Shop And Adopt** "This high-end retail store and spa also makes space for rescue pups, and the public -- including Hollywood celebrities -- are taking notice."

Alright peoples, I will see you on Monday and I'm bringing a few of my friends with me!

Thank You For Being In My Heart

It's Christmas!!

This has obviously been a strange year for me. I look back through these blog pages and I am astounded by not only how much I have grown, but by what an amazing support system that I have gained along the way, in all of you, my dear readers.

Wherever you are, whatever you are doing, please know that you all mean the world to me. I know from talking with all of you that as amazing as this season is, it is also a season for painful pasts and navigating new lives.

If there is anything that I can give you this Christmas, it's that I would like to remind you that unique purposes are taught only by creative lessons. 

We may not have everything everyone else has and our roads might be harder, but if we allow ourselves the opportunity to embrace our differences as a means to becoming more than "normal," but something truly amazing, we will realize that the hardships are simply training for the amazing people we are going to be.

You are not alone this season for I hold all of you in my heart.

Yours Truly,

Eden Strong

P.S. I told a few people about all of you and they have a few things they would like to say, so stay tuned for an interesting sort of "hello" from Mr. Attorney Man and a few others you have read about on this blog. 


Photo Credit

True Stories In The Operating Room

As I've mentioned on this blog several times, I had a few major foot and ankle surgeries when I was in my early twenties. You guys have seen the pictures, heard the background story, but what I have yet to tell you about, were the funny parts.

"Funny parts? Broken bones, screws and bolts, tendon transfers, cadaver transplants, and FUNNY PARTS?"

Well, admittedly, they were not funny at the time, but looking back I think I'm starting to appreciate their humor.

For example;

My first surgery was expected to be a long one. Screws were being placed, tendons were being lengthened, donated cadaver parts were being implanted, it was just a big ole' freak circus going on down there.

As I'm waiting in the pre-op room the anesthesiologist walks in and I kid you not, the heavens parted, I heard a chorus behind me play the musical phrase "Dun Dun," he smiled at me, and his teeth glimmered just like they do in cartoons.

Gosh do I love good teeth.

Ok, well maybe that didn't really all happen, but the man was hot. Not just "oh, he is cute," kind of hot, oh no, I'm talking "Hi, while I was between photo shoots for GQ I did a little studying and now I'm a doctor" kind of cute.

He really did have good teeth. Not even good, more like AH-MAY-ZING teeth.

Anyways, so there I sat, patting myself on the back and happy that I had chosen the right hospital, (Go me!!) and drooling at the GQ doctor with AH-MAY-ZING teeth.

"Hi Eden, my name is Something That I Can't Remember and your doctor asked me to come place an epidural line in your leg."

"Um....I thought I was going to be asleep for surgery....what do I need an epidural for?" was the expression I must have had on my face because he said "Oh, don't worry, you are going to be asleep for the surgery, but because it's so involved this will keep your leg numb for up to 24 hours after you wake up."

Marvelous!! Sign me up for that plan!!!

"Ok" I said, "no problem."

"Alright great" he said. "Since this is a teaching hospital, would you mind if a student observed?"

Well sure, no problem, I'm all for aiming to help mold America's youth. Bring the schmuck in.

In walks seven students.

Saaaaay what!?

Make It Count

I have a best friend that has the same name as me. She parents almost exactly like me, even has her kids on nearly the same diet as mine. We shopped for maternity clothes together and when it came time to have our sons baptized, she stood in front of the church and led the congregation in prayer over my son and then I did the same for hers. I spent last Christmas with her side of the family and Halloween with her husband’s side. I feel more a part of their extended families than I have ever felt with my own family. Our schedules are different, our lives are hectic, I don’t see her as often as I would like, but that doesn’t change the way I feel about her. I trust her with my life and above that, I trust her with my children’s lives.

There are no two things more certain about me than the fact that I love my children and that I trust almost no one.

Last week I finalized my will and in the event of my death I left her the custody of my children.

Just weeks after my ex left, she came to me and I will never forget what she said. She said “Eden, I know this is weird and I don’t want to put you in a strange position and if you want to say no I will completely understand and this won’t change anything between us (she was rambling), but I wanted you to know that XXX (her husband) and I have been praying about this, we have talked to both of our families, and I want you to know, and you can say no and I won’t be offended, but if anything were to happen to you we would love to take your children.”

It was so awkward that I made some sort of joke about the fact that I have cute children and if I said “yes” was she going to kill me?

Life In My House Is Strange

The other day I got out of the shower and found this dude standing in the bathroom. I looked at him and for a fleeting moment thought "this is strange" before immediately thinking "actually, this is fairly normal around here."

Kids are weird man. I mean there really is no two ways about it, they are weird!

My boy child recently announced to me that he was "too big for my bed so I now seep (sleep) on da for (the floor)."

He was apparently very serious about that.

Serious enough to commit to it night after night.

Do You Wanna Build A Snowman?

The Girl Child wanted to build a gingerbread house this year, but with our dietary restrictions the only place I could find a gluten and dairy free kit was online and it was $29, plus shipping, plus a several week delivery time.

Yea that's not happening. I don't really have the time to be baking gingerbread walls either, so...sorry kid.

A couple days later I was in the grocery store and just happened to walk past the largest marshmallows I have ever seen in my life. I stood there for a minute and started thinking about the ridiculous amount of cookies the food pantry had given us and the left over frosting and chocolate chips that I had from another project. I grabbed a bag of the ginormous marshmallows, a jar of marshmallow fluff, and headed home.

I decided that while we couldn't make a gingerbread house, we could make snowmen!

Be aware this was made by a 3 yr old so it's imperfectly perfect.

I have to say, not only do I think the project went well but the kids had a blast!!

Do you want to try it too? Of course you do! (I'm feeling a little over confident here)

What you will need:

Did You Hear About The Tradition That Killed The Reindeer?

Christmas growing up in my household, like many households, was basically like living in the movie "Groundhog Day" only with a holiday twist. Every year it was the same cast, same scenery, same lines, except we all just kept getting older and there was a Christmas tree. My father, having Aspergers syndrome, was extremely set in his ways of thinking when it came to "this is how we do things."

So what that looked like was that every Christmas morning, year after year, my father would inevitably get upset with us moments upon our awakening and cancel Christmas. I'm not even kidding. My brothers and I used to take bets as to how far we would make it into the festivities before he canceled the holiday all together. Would it be 9am? 10am? Oh look there he goes,grumbling and yelling and canceling Christmas. The man seemed to be under the impression that if he deemed Christmas to be canceled, then it was. Inevitably Christmas would re-open for business a few hours later once he had calmed down and we would move onto even more ridiculous traditions like the fact that every year he gave us socks.

Not just socks, but SOCKS.

Packages and packages of socks.

My brothers and I were utterly annoyed as children, because "yay, presents!! oh wait, just socks." We were so geared up for the disappointment of our Fruit of The Loom Christmas that we would shake all the packages before we opened them just so we could seek out the socks and open them first. No kid likes to get to their last present and have it be socks.

Then my father got smarter and started messing with us. He would wrap them in different sized boxes and add in a few random household items to throw us off.

"Oooo, this is a nice heavy box! I bet it's....oh wait. It's my mother's curling iron, a two pound weight, a few rocks from the backyard, and socks."

What Is Sex Like After Rape?

As you guys know I’ve been a support group leader for sexual assault and domestic abuse victims for a while now. Aside from running general groups, I specialize in assisting sexual assault victims with regaining their sexuality.

Support groups are fantastic, amazing, wonderful places, but unfortunately they are oftentimes filled with women who have been so beaten down that they are too shy to speak up. They are feeling shame for what happened, shame for their bodies, and embarrassment for a crime that involved such a private act. Compound that with the fact that the leaders of the groups certainly don’t want trigger anyone by bringing up the whole “penis in vagina” topic that brought most of the women there in the first place, it leads to the fact that oftentimes sex after rape is just simply not talked about in many groups.

These women got forced into a sexual act and then no one wants to talk about what the next sexual encounter might be like. How scary to have the most terrifying event in your life take place and then have no one prep you for what might happen the next time you encounter a situation that while totally different, is kind of the same?

It occurred to me one day, while teaching strip class to assault survivors, that here I was assisting these women while they reclaimed their sexuality, and then I was sending them back out into their lives afraid to use that sexuality.

I let all the women know that I would be holding a special group specifically to talk about sex after rape and then left it up to them to decide if it was something they felt like they could benefit from.

They all showed up and then some.

Since this is a subject rarely talked about in most support groups, I’ll ask you, do you know what sex is like after rape?

Send Laundry Detergent

So, we had a lot of fun plans for this weekend, but instead we are doing this:

In case you don't know what that is exactly, I will explain it to you:

The Boy Child is sleeping next to a trashcan while I clean up all the places he marked his three year old territory with the stomach flu.

In other words, we are having a grand old time!

Seriously though, I'm over the germ factory we seem to be running around here. My only hope is that because my kids are in daycare and school that we are just catching everything right away and then will be good for the rest of winter.

A girl can hope, right??

RIGHT!?

Before I go though I wanted to leave you with two articles that I wrote. Typically I just pop in here and say something to the effect of "oh and hey if you are bored you can also check these out," but this week I feel a little stronger about these articles.

This one in particular "I Didn't Realize My Husband Had Raped Me On Our Wedding Night" was a tough one for me to write. I debated pulling it from my editor several times but in the end decided that if even one woman read it and was able to see what was going on in her own marriage, then it would be worth it. So if you don't mind reading and sharing, let's make it worth it!

Also, do you want to know my biggest pet peeve ever?

I would say that I'm a fairly easy going person but if you want to know a sure fire way to get my blood boiling, this would be it. "Sorry, You're NOT a Single Mom Just Because Your Husband Works A Lot." Seriously, stop claiming my title.

Well, I'm going to head back to washing bedding and cleaning carpet, so have a little fun for me this weekend ok?

In fact, guys in particular, TAKE NOTE.

"9 Really OBVIOUS Things We Wish You Did More Of In Bed."

Alright, I'm procrastinating now.

Laundry, barfy kids, here I come.

Yours Truly,

Very tired and totally grossed out,

Eden.

I Met The New Neighbors

So I met the new neighbors.

I was supposed to meet Frisbee Boy's Mom for lunch and she asked me to stop by her house first. When I got there she literally handed me a banana bread and said "I made this for your neighbors so go over there and meet them. Take this with you and don't tell them I made it."

I'm not used to listening to "adults" anymore so this "mom" thing she has going on these days is still new to me. Although, I have watched enough TV to know that at this point I'm supposed to say "ok, will do," and so I did.

That night shortly after I got home, I walked across the yard to my new neighbor's front door and rang the doorbell.

The next thing I know I can hear someone yelling and I, like a total idiot, am looking behind me, above me, and next to me, wondering who is making so much noise.

Then I hear the knocking.

I only then realize that the sound is coming from the window next to the front door, the window where some dude is knocking to get my attention and yelling "WHAT DO YOU WANT?" at me.

"Uh...I live next door, I uh..." and then he cut me off with "HOLD ON."

The door opens and a man with a long pointy beard and an eclectic sense of style is standing in the doorway. "Do you want to come in?" he asks me.

Um no, not really, because I'm a little freaked out now, but you know what? It's 13 degrees outside so I'm willing to risk it.

My Christmas Tree Might Actually Fall Over

The kids and I put up our Christmas tree last night.

It's not the seven and a half foot tall, lush and well lit, sprinkled with "snow" tree that typically adorns my living room. It's not decorated with the expensive Macy's ornaments that my extended family purchased for me year after year (despite me telling them that I don't collect ornaments). Long gone are the "our first Christmas ornaments" that my ex and I got and far away are the hopes and dreams that went with them. It doesn't even have the ornaments on it that I helped my daughter make for her daddy the first three years of her life. It also doesn't have the snowflake on top that the man-that-came-after-my ex and I bought on our first Christmas together.

Nope, this tree is barely four feet tall, fairly sparse in branches, has sporadically placed lights, and the ugliest ornaments that you have ever seen because I set the kids loose in the dollar section of the store with five dollars each and told them to "have at it" and the rest of the ornaments we made ourselves.

I love it.

I've faced a lot since my ex left and for a long time I just pushed through one experience after another, willing myself to face the past and walk through the pain. As I explained in the post "That Post Where I Show You My Ex," it was important to me to stare painful memories in the face of their ugliness and prove to myself that I could not only accept them for what they were, but move beyond them. I needed to revisit those memories, the memories of my pain and my failures and replace them with new memories of my strength and perseverance.

That never happened with my Christmas tree. The first year my ex was gone I didn't even want to pull it down from the attic.

You see there is nothing that a person with a childhood like mine wants more than a Hallmark movie holiday. Sure, I get it, it's probably not realistic, but I wanted it. I wanted it so bad that it hurt. I would spend hours researching the local holiday events; events that we never made it to. Every year I would put on Christmas music, make hot chocolate, pop popcorn, and wait for my husband to get home so we could decorate the tree. Some years, he simply never came home and on the years that he did, well let's just say that it never turned out like I had imagined. In fact the last year he was here, my dreams of a "Hallmark style tree decking" ended when he threw the popcorn bowl (with the popcorn still in it), at me before storming out of the house while screaming "this is why I don't come home to you" simply because I wanted to put Christmas music on. He left me in a pile of tears and hurt feelings while I joined him in berating myself for ruining another holiday.

Year after year I tried, and year after year I was left with nothing more than broken dreams and the sting of failure.

I Learned That I Was Crazy When She Caught Lice

**I wrote this and never posted it! Join me as we jump back to July.**

I was brushing her hair right up until the moment that my heart stopped.

"Is her hair moving? Why the hell is her hair moving? No freaking way is her hair moving" I find myself thinking as my brain is scrambling to wrap it's tiny little confused brain cells around any plausible explanation for what I am seeing.

Yep, something is moving alright, but it’s not her hair.

It’s a bug. Oh no wait….it’s not “a” bug, it’s "bug's."

Lice to be exact.

Have you ever had one of those moments where you suddenly feel as if you are the dirtiest person on the planet? No? Just me? Well let me tell you, I’ve had that week. The entire freaking week has left me walking around feeling as though I need to tent my house for extermination, take a bath in bleach, and send the children off to daycare inside of large Ziploc bags to protect them from other germy people.

First the Boy Child came home from daycare with a lovely case of hand, foot, and mouth disease. Next I realized that there was a mouse in my house and now I find myself sitting here staring at the head of my daughter....who apparently has lice. 

Wait….do I have lice too? Is my head itching? Yes, my head is definitely itching BECAUSE OF ALL THE LICE I MOST CERTAINLY HAVE.

I make a call to the daycare center that my children attend and the director barely finishes saying hello before I blurt out “Hi, you know how sometimes you call me and say things that I don’t want to hear, things like “hey your kid just threw up and you have to come and get them? Well….my turn. My kid has lice and I think she got it from another child at your center.”

Sure enough, they check and she is only one of about 7 little girls that are now growing their very own personal lice farms right on top of their teeny tiny heads.

Gag. Me. Now.

Happy Thanksgiving

I just wanted to take a minute to wish all of you a Happy Thanksgiving!!

I know from interacting with so many of you that the holidays can be rough on a lot of people. Society's portrayal of celebrations involving big families, lots of food, and material goods, can, as one person commented, "put a spotlight on your own shortcomings."

Just know that despite what you do or don't have this holiday, this particular celebration starts with thankfulness. This is your life, you are in control of what you look at, so when you feel like the spotlight is on what you don't have, shift it over to shine on what you do.

I'm choosing to spend this holiday holding what I have so close to my face that I will be unable to look past it and view what I don't have. If I choose to look at my blessings, I won't be able to see my disappointments.

If you will, do me a favor and list a couple of things things in the comment section that you are thankful for, maybe a blessing that hasn't always been so apparent to you.

When you belong to a community like this one, a wonderful group of sometimes hurting hearts, it helps to remind each other that even while we are hurting, we are still healing. That the blessings are there even when they aren't as obvious as we would like them to be.

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone.

May the spotlight shine so brightly on your blessings today that you are blind to anything beyond their view.

Sun Photo Credit

I Broke Up With Him

I broke up with The Detective Whose Name I Do Not Like.

It sucks, I'm bummed, but I'm OK with it.

Here's the thing; He was great. No really, he was. I have absolutely no complaints about him whatsoever. Super sweet, thoughtful, good looking, responsible, etc, etc, etc, and yet I broke up with him anyways.

Ugh you guys, I know, I KNOW.

"Eden stop doing this to yourself!!"

Remember the uproar when my guy friend told me he wanted to be with me and I told him no?

I never regretted it.

I don't think I will regret this either.

Although I miss The Detective Whose Name I Do Not Like.

I miss him a lot.

But not enough.

Not enough to make me reconsider.

I Couldn't Leave You By Your Lonesome ALL Weekend!

It's No Work Weekend again and we've been busy over here!

Do you know what's better than sitting at home on a Friday night while drinking wine in your pajama's?

Sitting at home on a Friday night while drinking wine while in your pajama's with your friends.

Like my monkey feet?

It's even better when they bring snacks and wine.

But anyways, just because I'm over here partying circa high school style doesn't mean I'm going to leave you without at least a couple of things to read while you are snuggled up on your own couch.

(Just click the links, which are the highlighted words, and you will be taken to an article I wrote elsewhere this week).

I May Or May Not Have Accidentally Stolen Something Kinda Large

So…..I accidentally stole something kind of large recently.

I swear it was accidental.

Here let me explain. Remember the dishwasher that when bought, just happen to come with a date from the appliance guy who we referred to as Piano Man? Well if you remember him then you must remember how fabulously things ended with him; in a screaming match on the phone while he called me a bitch and I hung up on him.

That was pleasant.

Well low and behold not two days after that did my brand spanking new dishwasher stop working. Of course that would happen, OF COURSE IT WOULD.

Well I’m not about to let a little boy drama get in between me and what I consider to be a very necessary appliance, so I didn’t waste any time contacting the store.

But, let’s just say that Piano Man must have spread the word about what a bitch I was because the response I got was less than friendly.

Basically they didn’t care.

Yea, that’s not really gonna fly with me. 

I called the corporate headquarters, explained that the dishwasher wasn’t working, that the manager refused to replace it, and they got the store manager on the phone with us in a three way call. Only after the corporate office representative gave the manager a passive aggressive reminder of their company policy did the he agree to send a technician out to look at it.

A few days later a representative, not from the store but from the dishwasher manufacturer, showed up, took a look at it, and without doing so much as opening and closing the door, deemed it broken and unfixable.

It Only Hurts Because I'm Too Good For You

My daughter started seeing the grief counselor at school three weeks ago. She goes once a week and they talk about loss. After her first appointment I asked her what she talked about and she said "the lady asked me to tell her something sad that happened to me. I told her that we had a daddy but he left because he didn't want us anymore."

Devastation.

My heart breaks for her. I was hoping that because she was so young when everything happened that maybe she would have an easier time adjusting, but that hasn't proved to be the case.

When my ex first left I got her into counseling immediately. She seemed so non effected by all the changes that I was worried that maybe she just wasn't able to express how she was feeling. The counselor worked with her for several weeks in a play therapy setting and eventually discharged her with the statement that she was "extremely bright and well adjusted."

I gave myself a little pat on the back, sent up a little "thank you" to the sky, and went about my merry way.

Now though, she is older. Along with her age appropriate inclination to question everything I tell her, her developing brain and natural curiosity are bringing to the surface a sudden need to question why her dad left us.

I don't even know why her dad left us.

I mean I understand logically why he did, but I just can't get my momma heart to understand how he would leave his own children.

Her dad is gone and not only can I not fix that, there are no justifiable reasons to explain why he left her. Every explanation I give her, every reason I try to explain to her, is washed away by her feelings of grief and the very real absence of her father's presence.

Easy Bake Pancake Muffins

Winter is coming.

Ugh, I hate winter.

I live in the wrong state.

My friends are all "yay! Winter!! Yay!! We can stop working out, eat brownies, and wear big sweaters!! Yay winter!!" and I'm all "I still have to stand in front of a group of women several times a week in my underwear. Screw winter."

With that being said, winter is upon us and I feel myself slipping into the baking and cooking frenzy that seems to accompany fall in this household. By the time I get the kids home at night, lug everyone in, peel off 3 layers of slush covered winter wear, and turn the heat on that I turned off when I left for work that morning, the last thing I want to do is make dinner.

But....we are all most likely frozen from the inside out and starving; thus enters the cooking frenzy of fall.

As a single working mom I simply do not have time to make three meals a day. Combined with the fact that my financial situation doesn't allow for much wiggle room in the food-budget department, I really need to plan ahead. What this means is that I usually designate a couple hours in the beginning of the month to making meals in bulk and then freezing them. Last week I made 6 pounds of chili. SIX POUNDS of chili you guys.

I then split it up into family sized servings and froze it. After that I made four pounds of taco meat and ten pounds of baked sweet potato cinnamon bites. None of the meals took me longer than twenty minutes to prep and when everything was done cooking, I had quite a bit of food ready to pull out of the freezer as needed.

Facebook Doesn't Need To Change, I Do

It’s November again, which for all of my American counterparts means that we are gearing up to celebrate the holiday of Thanksgiving. Again, if you are one of my American counterparts, you might be seeing your Facebook newsfeed filling up with the “30 days of thankfulness” status updates. For those of you who are unfamiliar with that it’s basically where you post a status update everyday talking about something that you are thankful for. 

Because I think I might be a bitch, this has intensely irritated me in years past.

No, in all honesty, I truly am happy that my friends are leading the lives they are, I really am. As we talked about in the post “Mind If I Pop You With My Stick," I know that everyone has different struggles and just because someone has something I would like to have doesn’t mean that they have an entirely perfect life. I get it, I really do, and yet even though I truly am happy for them, I find the green monster of envy and bitterness whispering in my ear a little louder every November when I read ten statuses in a row about how wonderful everyone’s husbands or even superficial things such as all the holiday shopping that everyone is doing, knowing that I can't afford to shop for anyone and no one is likely to be shopping for me.

Sigh. I would like to say that I'm above all jealousy and always handle myself in ways that I'm proud of, but I would be lying through my teeth.

Like I said, I might just be a bitch.

Last year I found myself becoming quite bitter by the end of the month and having to take an actual break from Facebook because I was so annoyed that my friends had so much that I wanted.

Who does that!?

Jealous people, shallow people, possibly bitches, me. I did that.

Again, I can’t say that I’m too proud of myself….

Take A Deep Breath

It’s been awhile since I generally updated you on my life, hasn’t it? Sometimes life just sort of snowballs on me and then suddenly I realize that I haven’t updated you on certain things in a while. So, I guess it’s about time that I catch you up on a few things!

The Boy Child has been out of his intensive therapy program since June and he is doing wonderfully. He is right on target developmentally with all the other kids his age. Never in my life did I think I would be so happy to have a three year old boy tearing my house apart, but there is nothing that I love more than the normalcy of a destructive toddler. He has some residual sensory processing issues that we are dealing with, but I am nothing but optimistic about his future.

He is currently in preschool and already has a girlfriend. Yikes that boy, I’m going to need to keep my eye on him! Because we live in farmland he has become enthralled with tractors. Being harvest season, we spend much of our time outside watching them harvest the fields. Before you have kids you hear phrases such as "falling in love with it through a child's eyes," but until I had kids of my own I never really grasped how deep that concept runs. I now find myself squealing with joy when I hear the tractor engines roaring, knowing that my Boy Child is going to be thrilled, and I am going to be thrilled watching him be so happy.

***************************

The Girl Child is the one that I am the most astounded with though. I’ve only briefly talked about her medical issues on this blog, but she had a REALLY rough start in life. She has a genetic disorder that truly threatened to derail her future and just like my Boy Child, I really never thought she would get to the point in which she is at now. Before she was even two weeks old she was readmitted back into the hospital and for a while, I really wasn't sure what the outcome would be.

Four months old and even her father was getting nervous.

For Your Reading Enjoyment

Don't forget, it's No Work Weekend!!

Because of that, I won't be writing, but that doesn't mean you can't be reading!

If you aren't a Not My Shame Facebook fan, you might have missed a few things I've been working on, so I'll just go ahead and catch you up below:

If you are looking to relate to some mommy stories, pop over to my author bio page on Lifetime Mom's where you can see all my articles, including the most recent two detailing why the Girl Child and I are at odds with Disney and why my child did not meet my expectations.

You can find more parenting strangeness from me over at Scary Mommy. Their articles are oddly stacked on top of each other in my profile, so just keep scrolling down to read through them.

If sex is on your mind (hey, it's a weekend!!) head on over to my bio page at YourTango. I will warn you, those articles aren't for virginal eyes and blushy faces, but if sex is your thing, make sure you click the "read more" button for a full list of my articles.

If you want nothing to do with humans this weekend, well hell it's a weekend and more power to ya! In that case, hop on over to Catster and read about the time that my cat died, and I almost killed my dad because of it. It is literally one of my favorite stories....possibly ever. I think there are a couple new articles on there as well, so just make sure to scroll down.

If you don't like humans AND you don't like cats, rest assured, I have whipped up a few dog articles on Dogster for you as well. Do you think dogs are easier than kids? I sure as hell do and you can find my reason's to back up that claim right here. You can also read about why I needed to rehome my beloved pug.

If that's not enough for you, sorry, can't help you. Pop some popcorn, grab a movie, and I will see you on Monday!

I will at least leave you with a little "pick me up."

Have a wonderful weekend everyone!!

At Least It's Not An Umbrella

For some people it's buying a minivan, for others it's gaining the soccer mom or dad title, and for even more it's resigning yourself to the mom haircut.

You guys know what I'm talking about, right?

I'm talking about that one moment, that one thing that when finally accepted means that you have officially lost all of your youth and are now old. People fight whatever they consider that moment to be for years in a desperate attempt to not have to face the reality that is aging.

Me?

I refuse to buy an umbrella.

An umbrella people. AN UMBRELLA.

I know, I know, I never claimed to be normal, but do you know who I am convinced buys umbrellas? Responsible parents, prepared business people, mature senior citizens, and  other uptight people who are not me. Do you know who does not buy umbrellas? Children, Irresponsible teenagers, poor college students, weird hippies, delusional happy-go-lucky-awesome-people, and me.

I refuse to buy an umbrella.

That is my moment people, I have not yet lost my youth simply based on the fact that I do not own an umbrella.

(Shush you people and your logical arguments, DON'T RUIN THIS INSANITY FOR ME.)

You see, I already feel old. I'll admit it, my kids make me feel old.

There, I said it. (I will be awaiting the flaming comments of Internet land.)

Really though, I'm just calling it like I feel it. It's kind of hard not to feel old when your kid is already well underway in her own childhood. Love my kids, wouldn't trade them for the world, but they make me feel old.

The other day a friend found, in her basement, a brand new (albeit twenty year old), sing-along book that came with a cassette tape. She told me "I know you won't use the tape but maybe your Girl Child would use the book." I took it home, handed the Girl Child the whole thing, and then a few minutes later noticed that she was looking at the tape as if I had just handed her a book written in Chinese.

"Do you know what that is?" I asked her.

"Yea" she replied confidently. "It's tape!"

"How did you know that" I exclaimed, honestly a little shocked.

With that she grabbed the actual tape film and yanked it right out of the cassette cartridge so fast that it actually made a whizzing noise. "It was really nice of them to give us some tape in case a page in the book ripped!" she exclaimed.

I FELT VERY, VERY, OLD.

They Came Softly

I know, the title, but come on, it wouldn't really be my blog without at least one slightly inappropriate innuendo, now would it?

Ok, now GET YOUR MINDS OUT OF THE GUTTER.

I saw my mother at the grocery store the other day. 

I needed to go to the health food store and I drove 12 minutes out of my way just to avoid having to drive near her neighborhood, because that is how much I did not want to see the woman; the woman who I haven't seen since I had essentially burglarized her house. I figured it was worth adding an extra twelve minutes to my drive just for the peace of mind that I might not accidentally pull up to a stoplight next to her; as if we are that much alike to plan our schedules accordingly.

Except that OH NO HA HA HA apparently we are because I ran into her at the grocery store. Now when I say I ran into her, I literally mean I RAN INTO HER. Actually, she backed into me, shopping cart and all, but nonetheless,

NO. Just NO.

That is much too close, STEP AWAY FROM EDEN.

How dare this former family member of mine SHOP at the GROCERY STORE for things that people eat EVERYDAY!?

Actually, I would have been less surprised if she had showed up on my doorstep, seeing as how I was in a health food store....but that's another story for another time....

I digress.

So, the woman backs into me and it was all....

Nothing.

It was nothing. I was all "Hi mother" and she was all "oh!!! Eden!!! Whatever in the world are you DOING here!? How are the kids!? What are you up too!? You look wonderful! How is work!?"

and I was all "......yea, I'm fine, take care."

Then I simply walked away and that was it.

That was really fucking weird and also, who was that woman?

The Trolling Report

As most of you know, trolling on this site has been an issue for quite some time and as my name has slowly crept it's way across the Internet, naturally it's only gotten worse. It's mostly a group of about the same five people that like to trail along behind me, commenting on everything I post everywhere, under several accounts and different names, but either way, boo.

Because I am an anonymous writer with a crazy life, it naturally leads some people to believe that I am a fictional person. I get that, I can absolutely see how someone might think that of me. The difference between doubting and trolling is that while a normal person might doubt my story, the trolls make it their life's mission to "take Eden down" as they say.

That's weird, who does that? Whose life is so meaningless that they make it a point to fully invest themselves into a tiny little blip on the Internet radar that makes them so angry? Who makes their mission to bring down someone who very well could be (and is) living a life filled with past abuse and doing nothing more than trying to heal?

Trolls my friend, the trolls do.

As you also know, I have already touched on this subject many times.

In "A Message To The Trolls" I talked about my reason's for writing under a pseudonym and why I would not be providing proof to discredit the trolls outlandish accusations.

In the post "Facing The Silencers" I talked about why it was important for me to move past what the trolls were saying about me and continue on.

Finally in the post "Censorship" I talked about the reasons why I would be editing the trollish comments out of this blog.

So here we are, at the point where I have decided to continue to write under the pseudonym Eden and where I have decided that I'm not going to go away just because the trolls don't like me. So what next? I've watched other bloggers fall down with the trolls, either scared right off the Internet or tangled in Cease and Desist lawsuits, and to be honest, that just seems like a lot of work.

So if they aren't going away and I'm choosing not to fight them, what other options are there?

I'm choosing to embrace them!!

Crazy huh?

I know, I never claimed to be normal, but really, what is this blog all about? It's about healing, personal growth, accepting what you can't change, not letting labels define you, and standing proud in the face of adversity.

Hell I can't be handing out advice and then not taking it myself, can I?

So with that in mind, since I was able to take what my parents did to me and learn how to be a better parent, and then I took what my ex did to me and started a nonprofit, then I can at least make something useful out of this situation, right?

Of course I can!

Hey, if you're not going to fight, and you don't want to cry, you might as well join in the cackling laughter with them!

So with that I bring you a new series, "The Trolling Report." Written by the trolls, about me, for you! From now on I will scour the Internet and gather up the best of the best in snarky comments directed at me. I will then compile them all into a nice little satirical report for you so that you can heed their warnings about me in the form of humor, and then either choose to stick around or go running for your life.

Your choice!

Really, how nice am I?  For most blogs you would have to go back and forth between the blog and the two biggest sites for trolling, XOJane and GOMI to really get the full scope of things, but on here, nope, I will gladly pull it all together for you!

***TRIGGER WARNING*** This is me, being snarky in my own right. This will surely trigger some trolls, so if you are a troll and you cannot handle criticism, satire, and snarkiness, you may want to back away now.

With that I bring you the first edition of :

"The Trolling Report"

Some People Have To Learn The Hard Way

For years I was doing everything for my ex while I desperately tried to hold him together during the height of his drug addiction. Getting him up for work, getting him in the shower, setting out his clothes, making his breakfast, packing his lunch, and the list just goes on. Every ball he dropped I tried to pick up and hand right back to him before anyone noticed it was rolling away.

It didn't work.

I will never forget attending marriage counseling with my ex. He didn't want to be there, he was more or less forced into it due to some factors outside of our marriage, but to my surprise he did show up. It was our very first appointment and the counselor pulled my ex out of the room and said to me "this guy is going down. You have tried to hold him together for long enough and you can see that it isn't working. You have two choices here, you can let him go down on his own or you can let him take you all down with him."

I stupidly didn't take that advice and when he took me down with him, I almost drown.

After my post "Watch What You Say To Your Mother" a lot of you had questions as to when the right time is to cut the cord and stop saving someone from their own bad decisions.

You know what? That's a tough question and as you all can see, I'm still learning the answers to that one myself. It's never easy to step away from a situation where you know that another person will probably falter and possibly fail without your help, but at what point does your help become more harmful than helpful?

The first rule in saving a drowning victim is to not jump in the water if you can't swim. This is due to the fact that a person's chance of rescue go down when other people have to divide their time and resources to save two drowning victims.

The hard truth is, you simply cannot be responsible for saving everyone yourself, no matter how badly you want to help them.

I will never forget a demonstration that a youth group leader showed us in high school. The leader had one kid stand on a chair and one kid stand next to him on the ground. The leader told the kid on the chair to pull the other kid up onto the chair with him, without any help from the kid on the ground. After struggling for a while the kid on the chair realized that there really was no way for him to pull the kid up from the ground without any help. Then the leader told the kid on the ground to pull the other kid down to the ground with him and at the same time instructed the kid on the chair to try to stay where he was. With one arm the kid on the ground easily yanked the kid off the chair.

The moral of the story? It's a lot easier for someone to pull you down to a lower level than it is to bring them up to a higher one if they aren't willing to help themselves get there.. You can't pull someone up to where you are unless they want to help themselves get up there with you, but it's a real possibility that they will be able to pull you down to where they are no matter how hard you try and resist.

So when is it time to cut the cord and let someone go? When should you stop helping them and allow them to either fail or succeed on their own terms?

I'm sorry, I can't tell you that.

I can however give you some points to consider when making your decision;

*Are they making any progress on their own?

*When you stop helping them, do they continue to move forward because of their own motivation and efforts or do they go backwards in terms of their progress?

*Do they expect or rely on you to help them in a context that is more than the occasional helping hand?

*Are you protecting them from themselves?

*Is helping them affecting you negatively?

Like I said, I can't tell you what the appropriate boundary lines are in your specific situations, but those questions should at least get you thinking in terms of whether your assistance has turned from helpful to enabling or possibly even detrimental.

Stepping back and allowing someone the opportunity to help themselves is never easy. It doesn't mean that you have to say "see ya later, I'm outta here" it just means that you need to redefine your roll in helping them.

For example, I have a woman that I've been helping who while I love her, I've realized that my help was no longer helping her. My help was continuing to allow her to not have to help herself and something needed to change.

I helped her relay her fears to her counselor, connected her with the daycare assistance department, single mom student loan advisers, and the local benefit assistance department. I encouraged her to get a financial advisor and helped her get set up with a great attorney. Once I knew that she had the appropriate resources available to her, I then stepped back my assistance from "handling everything" to "just a friend."

When she calls, I answer. When she needs to talk, I listen. When she cries, I hug her. What I no longer do though is jump in to save her. I help her facilitate her questions to the people that I have set her up with and then I allow her the opportunity to advocate for herself. She is not alone without my help, she is with people who are not only more equipped to help her, but are better equipped to teach her how to live her life.

I simply realized that I cannot be two people. I cannot be me and at the same time be her.

I can be her friend, but I cannot live her life.

If you feel like you are living your life and helping someone else live theirs, it might be time to step back.

Most importantly and above all, don't lose yourself to someone else. My ex pulled me off the chair and I nearly drown in the muck trying to save him.

I can't tell you when it's time to stop helping someone, I can only remind you that they only way to have a successful life is when each person is living their own.

A person will never have to learn to live their own life if they can sit back and watch someone else live it for them.

There is a reason that children grow up and leave their parents; it's because eventually everyone has to learn to live their own life.

If you never learn, you never grow. To not grow, is to be stunted forever.

We all deserve to be better than half of our potential.

Don't lose yourself in a life that isn't yours, for you were never meant to be half of someone else.



Photo Credit
Tug-of-war
Double Person

And Just When You Thought They Were Gone....The Nutcase Neighbors Return

It's been awhile, are you guys ready for an update on The Nutcase Neighbors?

(If you are new to the blog and haven't read the back story of The Nutcase Neighbors, click the topic tab labeled "neighbors" on the left hand side of the blog to catch up!)

As I had last left it, they had moved out in August; kind of. If you remember, they had gotten married, despite their obvious relationship issues. Mrs. Nutcase got pregnant and she and Mr. Nutcase had their first child in july. Mrs. Nutcase had been wanting to get out of this state for a while (as long as I have known them in fact). They had a specific state they wanted to move too and Mr. Nutcase was actively pursuing job opportunities in that state.

Well, they got what they wanted and Mr. Nutcase landed a job in the state of their choice. 

The two Nutcases put their house on the market and were all ready to move across the country with their little family when suddenly, there was a flaw in their plan....

Apparently Mr. and Mrs. Nutcase had concocted this little "moving across the country" plan without consulting Mrs. Nutcase's ex. The ex that she shares a child with. The ex that gets the child every Wednesday and every other weekend.

Because No One Ever Told Me

The first time I found myself standing in a courtroom was when I was 18 years old. 

Several months earlier I had broken up with a guy that I had been dating for two years. The break up was bad; so bad in fact that the next morning when the police showed up at my parent’s house looking for me, I realized how bad it had really been.

The night prior I had kicked my way out of the boyfriend’s locked car and run into a Walgreens for help. I left before the police showed up and then ran all the way home.

Standing there that morning with the police at my parent’s front door, I remember looking to my parents for help. I was terrified and embarrassed. I desperately wanted them to step in and save me.

The officer went on to explain that they had received a call that morning from the mother of the boy I had broken up with, stating that her son’s car was damaged. The now ex boyfriend had told his mother that I had damaged it during our break-up and the mother wanted to press charges. The police were suspicious because all the damage to the vehicle was on the inside of the car and in their words “typically the damage done in a nasty break-up is to the outside of a vehicle.”

I Am Just Not Cut Out For This

Two weeks ago my kids and I were invited to go to a pumpkin farm with a single mom friend, her three kids, and her parents. I'm all for pumpkin farms, I enjoy the seasonal festivities as much as the next girl, but I will admit, I have a slightly ulterior motive; A big part of me is in it for the quest of the perfect fall photo. So I dressed the kids up in their photo clothes (you mom's understand what I'm talking about, right?) and off we went to the farm.

For most of that day I would like to extend a gracious “thank you” to my friend and her family for their generosity. For the last thirty minutes of that day I would like to kindly extend a resounding “THANKS A LOT.”

The competition by my house is fierce when it comes to pumpkin farms. There is a farm on every corner and since they are seasonal attractions and only have a few weeks to draw in the crowds, each one tries to top the other. The one my friend’s parents took us to is what I would refer to as the "Cadillac of Pumpkin Farms." With everything from haunted houses to zombie rides, there is enough to keep you busy for an entire solid day.

We spent the day watching the kids climb on a fifteen foot spider web, clunk heads in the bounce houses, almost lose a tooth in the batting cage, ride a train until even the adults felt nauseous, pet some questionable looking farm animals, and stand in line for over 40 minutes to meet Elsa and Olaf. Why were Disney's "Frozen" characters at the farm? I don't know, seriously, I'm asking, why were the "Frozen" characters at the farm? (Now that's what you call rural competition. "So what if the farm next door has the world's largest pumpkin, we have ELSA.")

Anyways, everything was great until we got to the corn maze. By “corn maze” I am referring to the over five miles of corn that has been plowed into something that resembles a mouse maze in a science lab. The thing is so intense that not only do they make you sign in so that they can account for how many people go in and how many come out, they make you sign in with emergency contact numbers. That way if you disappear in there they can easily let your next of kin know where to find your dehydrated body come spring. They even ask that you have your phone fully charged and then they tell you how to find their emergency phone points where you can call and be like ‘I’M AT MILE TWO, SEND THE HELICOPTER!”

Please Don't Forget About Us

Hi regular readers! Be aware that there were two blog posts today, so make sure you catch the one before this one as well!

*hugs*

-Eden

***************************************************************************

Last Christmas the woman who runs the food pantry that I go to called me and told me that she was filling out paperwork to put the kids and I on their Angel Tree and said that she had to ask me a few questions. I told her that there must have been a mistake because I had not signed up for the Angel Tree Project. The Angel Tree is a Christmas tree that is placed in a public location. It is adorned with ornaments, each ornament holding the information of a family needing help.

“Oh no, there is no mistake. I knew you didn’t do it because you are so damn stubborn so I’m doing it for you,” said the booming voice on the other end of the phone; a voice that belongs to a woman who knows me better than I would like to admit.

I think my reply landed somewhere around “uh….yea, no thanks.”

“Eden! Stop thinking about yourself and start thinking about your kids! What are you buying them for Christmas? I’ve watched you struggle for a year now and I want to make sure that you guys have a nice Christmas. Now don’t waste my time and answer my damn questions!” replied the voice in an even louder tone than before.

She actually scared me a little bit.

By the time the phone call was over I had let her know that both kids needed pants, the boy child needed crib sheets, the girl child needed gloves and a hat. She had also pried out of me that Barbie’s and tractor toys would be most appreciated. She still wouldn’t let me off the phone until I admitted that I myself needed socks, a spatula, and a frying pan.

She took my info, put it in an envelope, and hung it on their Angel Tree for someone to choose and then subsequently sponsor us for Christmas.

A week later she called me and told me that our family had been chosen and that the sponsors promised to take care of us for Christmas. I won’t lie, a relief swept over my heart and I had an extra kick in my step that day. It felt good to know that someone cared.

A few days later the Toys for Tots (a program that I had actually enrolled my kids in) pick-up day came around and I lugged my embarrassed face and weary heart to the pick-up location to receive whatever toy had been designated to my children. Imagine my surprise when we were given a very nice, very generous, kitchen play set….that we already had. I only let it disappoint me for a minute before I wrapped it up and dropped it off with another struggling single mom I know and wished them a very Merry Christmas.

“It was meant to be” I thought as I reminded myself that someone else was so graciously taking care of us that Christmas.

A week later I showed up bright and early at the Angel Tree Project pick-up day only to be told that the family sponsoring us hadn’t brought anything, but was told they had been contacted and had assured the food pantry that they would drop our items off the next day. The woman with the booming voice and kind heart told me that she would call me as soon as the items arrived.

The next day came and went without a call, as did the next day, and the next. On the fourth day I called the food pantry back and was greeted by the booming voice. “Eden! I was just going to call you. I talked to your sponsor this morning, she is extremely sorry, but assured us that the items will be here on Monday. I know Christmas is Wednesday and I know how busy you are, so I will drop everything at your house on Monday night after your kids go to bed.

Monday came and while I was waiting for my doorbell to ring, my phone rang instead. “Eden, I haven’t been able to get a hold of them, I’m really sorry. I don’t know what happened but I think it’s pretty clear that they aren’t going to be bringing you guys anything for Christmas.”

"Watch What You Say To Your Mother"

It was one of those mornings. You mom's know what I'm talking about, it was one of those mornings.

It all started with a banana.

I made breakfast for the kids, putting two waffles and a banana on each child's plate. As I went to hand the Girl Child her plate, she said to me in the snarkiest voice I have ever heard come out of her, "I don't want that banana."

"Ok" I said as I picked it up, turned around, and dropped it in the trashcan.

If she had been allowed to say "what the fuck!" I'm pretty sure that's exactly what she would have said because her jaw hit the floor like I've never seen before.

"Mom! Why did you do that!"

"You said you didn't want that banana. Problem solved."

"Well are you going to give me another one?" she said.

"Nope, I already made breakfast. You didn't want it, that's your problem, not mine."