I'm right. You're wrong. Any questions?

When my husband and I began dating in 2007 he got me a t-shirt. It was the very first thing he ever bought me and it had to do with a joke between us. It read "I'm right. You're wrong. Any questions?" I still have that shirt to this day and we still share that joke because I am always right... about everything. At least I like to think so.

Sometimes in life there is no right or wrong. Sometimes something is said or done and the following events get so out of control as to have nothing to do with what was said or done originally. People get angry and in turn others get angry on their behalf. Things get said and done in the confusion that sometimes no apology can make up for. Sometimes things get said and done that though may require an apology you can not offer one.

I am not always right though don't tell my husband. In this instance though I can not say I was wrong or right. Perhaps I could have used different words but what I said was not untrue. Simply rougher maybe then I had intended. From those original words though came hurt feelings and from those hurt feelings came defenders and somewhere in the middle came conclusions that were in themselves untrue. Sometimes we do things in anger that are wrong but if the anger is felt for the right reason is it still wrong?

The answer is yes.

Before I go any further know this: This is my blog. This is where I write my thoughts and my feelings and my experiences. I am sharing these things with the world because I choose to and am fully aware that anyone can read them and from them anyone can draw their own conclusions. You don't have to like what I say. You don't have to agree with what I say. Most importantly though, you don't have to read what I say. My intention is never to hurt anyone else but this is my blog.

Now to anyone choosing to read this you should know I am sorry for what happened. Though I can not take responsibility for what others have said and done I can take responsibility for myself. I said some things I should not have after jumping to a false conclusion. They were said in anger but also not directed toward one specific person. I am sorry for the anger, the disrespect, and the hurt.

I stand by my Mother's Day post because it was written to express to the world how happy and grateful I am to be a mother and nothing else. As for the one that followed, it will remain up because it was written with an honest feeling but under a false impression. Sometimes it's okay to let the world see your mistakes.

I'm not always right. I'm not always wrong. I have lots of questions.

Better than you, better than me

So normally I would move on to a new subject to blog about. However, my Mother's Day blog has caused so many problems that I am continuing a previous subject as well as adding some new thoughts.

My whole life I have kept my mouth shut about a lot of things. Normally, when there is conflict I try not to get involved or may even try to smooth it over. Remember, I use to be a shell and hide from everything and part of that was not getting into family issues. My one exception has always been my sister. You mess with her and you see a side of me few people do. Luckily, she can handle her own and I rarely have to get involved. When I came out of the shell I was better at standing up for myself but tended to just cut you out if you caused me problems. I wasn't avoiding the problem so much as getting rid of the cause. Then I got married and I found out that when you treat the person I love the most like crap it really pisses me off. I tried to be nice but it didn't take too long before I was telling certain people in his life that they were less the nothing, sad, pathetic excuses for human beings. Especially if they tried to bring my son into it. You've heard hell hath no fury like a woman scorned? Well never mess with a woman's child if you want to live.

So here I am today. I am happy, healthy, in love, raising a beautiful baby, and I've made peace with my past and moved on to develop better relationships with my family. I think this makes me a good person. I don't come from a lot of money and I don't make a lot of money. I didn't go to college or serve in the military or make a career out of helping others.

I also never set out to cause anyone problems, getting into someone else's business, or hurt anyone. So this is my conclusion: I'm a good person and you people are jerks. And that's putting it nicely.

There are people I have the misfortune to be related to that have decided to create problems within my family because they think they are better then me. I don't know how they came to this conclusion. Maybe because they are older then me, because of who my father is, because they make more money or whatever reason. Here is what you need to know though.

You are not better then me. In fact, as of right now you are less then me because you set out to cause problems. You set out to hurt me, to hurt my mother, and to hurt the relationship I have built with my mother. Be proud of yourself for the pain you've caused. Then maybe take a look at your life and figure out why you are so miserable that you need to set out to hurt others.

Fact vs fiction, my opinion vs yours

So it was brought to my attention that I may have been disrespectful somehow on my Mother's Day post. That was not my attention nor do I think it's true, but that's my opinion. You are entitled to yours.

I feel I should clarify my previous statement though about mothers in my life. I never said any of them were bad, simply not very good. There is a difference. I could list the things in my life I felt were not done to the best of others abilities but what's the point? I know my mother and the other mothers in my family that saw me a few days a year did what they did to make me the woman I am today.

Bad mothers are a class of their own. Neglect and abuse are just general terms for the many things a bad mother is capable of. Mind never left me stranded alone or burned me with cigarettes.

However I don't remember mothers in my life doing some of the things that you hear "good" mothers doing. I don't remember being read to as a child. I don't remember lots of hugs or kisses or being told how pretty I was or how smart. That doesn't mean my mother was bad. Just not very good. I was her first child to give her some credit and she was very young when she had me. Not to mention, I was unplanned.

There are things in my past, my childhood that some are not privileged to know. My mother and I have been through things, some very ugly things that have shaped my opinion of the way I was raised and what a mother could/should be. You may think you know how I grew up but there are things I've never shared with anyone and you can be sure my mother hasn't shared them either. I am not saying I was the best child or she the worst mother. I am saying our relationship was not what it could have been when I was younger.

My mother, without malice or judgement and with all the respect due, was not a very good mother... in the beginning. Now though, as I have become an adult our relationship has changed. She is the best mom I could have in my life right now. We have respect for either other and care for each other in a completely new way. Best of all though, she adores my son, her grandson and it is in that relationship that I see what could have been with us and what will be.

I can't go back and change the way I grew up. Nor do I want to. And I will not take back my words in any previous blog. There was no disrespect, implied or otherwise. I am sorry for those that thought there was but until you know every detail of my life and my relationship with my mother you don't have all the facts. You only get pictures and not the entire story.

I HAVE a great mom and she is a great grandmother to my beautiful baby boy. Those are my facts and my opinion. You are completely entitled to your fiction and your opinion though.

A first for everything

Do you know the saying "there is a first time for everything?" Normally you hear it when experiencing something unusual. Now ask yourself what the definition of unusual is.

There is a first time for everything and today is my first Mother's Day. This to me is unusual because I never planned to be a mother. Not that I didn't want to because I've always wanted to be a mom. I just never thought it was in the cards for me. I often doubted I would even be a good mom.

There is no judgement or condemnation in these next words. Simply fact. I have never had very good role models for mothering. It is what it is. But with this fact came the doubt that I could do something I never really seen done well by others. So I planned on not having children. I thought that was for the best and since I was also a pretty firm believer I would never marry I didn't doubt this outcome.

Today though I woke up to the smiling brown eyes of my four-month-old son, Angel. He wakes up every morning laughing and that in turn makes me smile. He has his father's mouth and my cheeks. His father's eyes and my hair. He is a perfect combination of his parents and without a doubt the most beautiful baby in the world. Maybe I am biased but I don't think so.

He is my dream come true. I am thankful for every single moment he is in my life and I wouldn't trade one of them for anything in the world. He is my miracle and not just because I never thought I would be his mom, but because I almost lost the chance to be.

I had a perfect healthy pregnancy. Not one single problem along the way. I even did well with the weight gain. I was great. Then I went into labor four weeks early. I didn't worry though. He was a strong, healthy baby and 36 weeks was far enough along that he would be just fine. Labor went well for the first half. Then is stopped. With a little help things started to move along again. Then the hard part started. Every mommy who has ever given birth the old fashioned way knows what I mean. The pushing!

Pushing is hard but it is a piece of cake compared to hearing the doctor say your precious baby has the umbilical cord wrapped around his neck and they need to cut it NOW! A moment later my son was out and he was in the world. I expected the screams you hear in movies and yet all I got was silence. Then a small cry. Then another. Yet I still had not seen my miracle. And I wouldn't see him for more then a moment and a kiss before they took him away.

Without drawing out a more painful memory I will tell you that my sweet boy had complications. He was white and not just because his mom is Irish. He was a sheet and his tiny body was having trouble pumping blood and regulating itself. Within what felt like mere minutes my baby was taken to a hospital an hour away and would not be in my arms until the next day.

There were a lot of tears and a lot of fear. There was hope though. My baby was strong and he was mine. Four days later I brought my miracle baby home where he belonged. The fear was pointless. He was perfectly healthy and he is always going to be.

So is there a first for everything? Yes because this is the first time I have ever been a mom. This is the first time I have ever known so much fear, so much pain and yet so much joy and love and hope. My Angel is my everything. Being his mom is the greatest gift I could have ever imagine and yet never imagined it could be this wonderful. Every moment is special. He makes me laugh and my heart swells with pride with every new thing he does. I can't wait to wake up to his smile and I love kissing him goodnight. I love the way he laughs when I change his diaper and how serious he gets when he is playing with his toys. He is a miracle to me in so many ways and I never thought my heart could swell with so much love for someone so small.

This is my first Mother's Day and I have never been more grateful for a first in all my life.

Happy Mother's Day to all the mothers out there. All our babies are real miracles.

Whether you like it or not

The first thing you have to know about being who you are really meant to be is that sometimes other people aren't going to like you. That's life. Not everyone has to like everyone else and sometimes the people that do like you don't have to like you all the time. You should learn to deal with this early on. It makes things easier.

I figured it out about twelve years ago. I turned it into an art form about ten years ago when I moved to Florida. I broke out of this shell I had been living in all of my life and found a wild child inside. I colored my hair blue or green or purple. I went out drinking till all hours of the night. I made "friends" with people I would prefer my child never know I once knew. Looking back on it though I know it was a phase in my quest to find myself and yet at the same time that phase lead me to find a big part of myself.

You know what happens when you walk around with blue streaks in your red hair? People stare... a lot! And they judge and they whisper and in the long run a lot of them don't like you. When that happens you have to make a choice. Do you go back to who is more acceptable so they approve or do you learn to accept that not everyone is going to like you 100% of the time. Me? I learned to thrive when people stared at me. Yup, I am different and proud of it. Would you like to take a picture so you never forget me?

I don't dye my hair blue or green or purple anymore. Sometimes I miss that about myself, that wild child. Most of the time though, I know that child grew up into a strong woman. I've learned something though along the way.

You don't have to like me. If you don't like me that's your loss. If you like me but don't like me sometimes, well I can live with that. Sometimes I say things you don't like. Sometimes I do things you don't like. Sometimes life sucks. Pick yourself up by your shoelaces and move on. Sometimes you don't like me and sometimes I don't like you.

That's life... whether you like it or not.

A different dream then the one you dreamt

Do you remember when you were a kid and you wanted to be (insert career)? Then three weeks later you wanted to be something else. I remember wanting to be a ballerina and a fashion designer before I was seven. The me now laughs at both dreams because neither could be farther from reality. I have neither the grace or figure for dancing and neither the style or the care for fashion. Its just further proof how we change as we grow.

When I was a teenager I had one dream though that I have continued to hold on to into adulthood. Some people in my life know what it is and others do not. Do I tell you so that those who don't know finally know my secret? Is it really still a secret after all these years? Probably not so why not share with the world, right?

I want to write. And not just for the sheer joy of creating a story, though I do love that part. I want to be published and have people read my words, come into the worlds I've created. I want someone to read something I have written and have it touch them in a way I have been touched by all the books I have read. With this dream comes the fear of judgement though and so I have hesitated in pursuing this dream.

Not just hesitated though because though I have held on to this dream I have discovered other dreams that have halted it's progress. These dreams though I never dreamt for myself.


Twenty years ago I was twelve and wanted to get married and have kids like most girls. Unlike most girls though I didn't believe I would marry and have kids. Family issues and whatnot, for whatever reason I did not see myself as a wife and mother. Sure it broke my heart a little but when you tell yourself something at a young enough age you start to believe it before it can cause too much pain.

Ten years ago I still believe that was not my path.


Five years ago I still believe that was the way my life would work.


Four years ago I met a boy and yet still believed I was not that happy homemaker type.


Three years ago I was engaged, a year and a half ago I got married, and four months ago I gave birth to the most beautiful baby boy.


Three days ago I started to write thinking maybe it was time to pursue the dream I had shelved so long ago.


So this is the dream I never dreamt and yet this is my dream come true. I can't imagine being happier. I can't imagine being anywhere else. I can't imagine being anyone else. I didn't see my life taking this path and yet every morning I wake up beside the most wonderful man and every night I lay in his crib the most beautiful boy.

So maybe if life isn't the way you thought it would be you should take a look at a different set of dreams... Then maybe write about them.

Sometimes the truth hurts

Sometimes the truth hurts. Sometimes it hurts you and sometimes it hurts me. And sometimes it hurts everyone involved and sadly there is nothing we can do to change that. When you are learning to be who you are really meant to be there is a lot of pain involved. I have hurt people and disappointed them and maybe burned a bridge or two in my past. Honestly, though I have been hurt, disappointed and had people burn my bridges as well and I hold grudges. I know I shouldn't. I know it isn't healthy. I know others have forgiven me my mistakes while I still hold on to the ones they made againt me. I know it is wrong and yet I think it somehow makes me stronger to rememeber how others have wronged me. I also thinks it makes me bitter and I hope not to pass that along to my family.

Twenty years ago I was perfect. Or at least I did everything I could to be what others thought was perfect. The perfect student, daughter, friend, sister, insert title. I did what everyone wanted me to do and was absolutely terrified of anyone who did what they wanted to do.

Ten years ago I was who I wanted to be (at least I thought so), but was disappointing everyone in my life. I was searching for my place in the world and making as many mistakes as possible along the way.

And now I know this is who I am meant to be. No one is disappointed. No one is getting hurt. My mistakes are the good ones. And best of all, this me is one I never thought I was meant to be.

So sometimes the truth hurts, but in the long run the pain makes us stronger and it makes us realize that the truth is a whole lot easier to handle then the lies when you know who you really are.