I am not the perfect mother

I am not the perfect mother. Hell I do not even come close. I am the mother whose car is a disaster, who although I have all his shit packed, will still forget to pick up her son at the sitter’s before heading off to soccer practice. Because well that just happens when you are single mom and you need to be in six places at once.

When I was a child I hated my mother’s punishments. And truly they weren’t punishments they were corrections to my behaviour. As an adult omg my mom is my hero. (Having said that mom read ahead with caution). She set boundaries. She made me responsible for my actions. She made me the incredible person that I am (okay so that is tooting my own horn) But I am following in her footsteps so she must have done something right.

So this evening I am having a conversation with a friend. We are discussing boundaries and how her kids seem to ignore hers. So I am listing off all the things that she can do. All the things that my mom implemented with me. Things that worked. And as I read over my suggestions I start to envision what she is seeing.

She sees that little old lady with her glasses perched on the end of her nose. Steely eyes glaring. Pin curls that were contrived in the 1950’s and have never changed a bit. Her bosom is a shelf that cannot be breached, her waist thick and barely there. Her stockings roll up at the knees because she can’t be bothered to pin them up at her thighs.

Oh my dear god, that is so not me. So I needed to enliven the conversation. I needed to let her know that I was not the perfect mother that my voice portrayed in the messages I sent. So, I told her the following story.

I am a single mom. I have needs. I have desires. I have an eight year old son who at this point and time does not need to know that his mother is a being with a life beyond him. (He will learn, but right now I can hide this aspect of my life) So when T is around I am the celibate single mom who lives for her child.

Alright folks (mom I suggest you stop reading here) I am going to admit the truth. I may be single. I may not want to introduce a multitude of men to T’s life which would only serve to confuse him, but I am a sexual woman. And I have a drawer full of toys. Yes mother if you are still reading I have toys!

So and I am absolutely positive that I am not the only one that this has happened to, but I am putting this out there. I was having a rough night and T was being a little shit. Arguing and fighting. Telling me how great his father was. I was incensed and a little pissed. He would not go to bed. Finally after a bath at 10 and listening to him chant mom over and over and over again I caved and told him go to sleep in my room! I can move him back to his when I go to sleep.

Silence ensues and I lay back on the couch, ready to watch another episode of whatever I was watching when T comes into the living room.

‘Mom what is this? I found it at the end of your bed?’

I look over and omfg he has my vibrator. I cannot even be ashamed at this point and time; because this folks, this is why we as parents have boundaries. He is flicking it around and I bolt off the couch screeching ‘give that to me.’ Poor child thought that he had done something wrong.

As he stares at me with tear stained eyes, confused and unsure as to what he has done wrong I implore him; ‘Buddy I have never ever asked you to lie or say nothing to your dad. But baby this is a secret we need to keep okay?’

‘Mom what is that?’

‘That is a toy for mom.’ I admit lame ass reply but what the hell else am I suppose to say?

‘Oh so do you use that when you are sad? You play with it to make you happy?’

As I choke on my laughter and shake my head, tears glisten in my eyes. Oh yeah I am still waiting for my ex to confront me about the fact that T found my vibrator. I am still absolutely horrified that he found it. But this leads me back to my mom, who set boundaries so never once did I ever find her sex toys. (Sorry mom please forgive me.)

I am not the perfect mom.

 

 

The Next Year of My Life

What a great idea! Instead of New Year’s Resolutions we do birthday ones. I am going to consider doing this.

Kristen Ruchalski, Writer

We all know that on New Year’s Eve, everyone makes resolutions for what they intend to change in the coming year. I think that’s interesting, but it doesn’t make sense to me. It’s not your next year, it’s just the next year. Your next year begins the day after your birthday. That is technically the next year of YOUR life.

Well today is my birthday. So I have been thinking about what I want to do differently in MY next year. For my next year I have a few things that need to change. So I have compiled a list.

  • More gym time. Stop making excuses and go.
  • Less saying yes, more saying no.
  • More me time.
  • More writing.
  • More positive thinking.
  • Go to bed at a decent hour.

Now let me explain. I was going to the gym pretty regularly. Then I got sick with the flu. I kept…

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That First Kiss

That first kiss enveloped me,

consumed me,

Made me feel as though I had never been kissed

that this was my first.

I saw fireworks as I dug my nails in

moaning as your tongue caressed mine.

Giving over to you

all the fear and pain that I have ever felt.

That first kiss,

made me ashamed

for never before had I felt like this

never before had I loved like this.

That first kiss was everything that I could have wished for

it kept all the promises you spoke to me

it gave me so much more,

that first kiss……

it is how we start.

 

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

May 24/17

My Day (It was not what I had planned)

I have friends who live with Fibro so this allowed me the insight I might not have to their pain. But as Kristin writes, her passion for her ideas and the causes she champions shines through. I wanted to share her beautiful words with others.

Kristen Ruchalski, Writer

Good evening folks,

So yesterday I spent the day driving around the region, attempting to flood the market with my resume. Instead, the rain flooded things! I didn’t get to stop at all of the locations I had planned, so I set out again today. One thing after another happened to let me know “today is not my day”. I decided to drive to one of the local libraries nearby where I was to search for a book to help with the paper I’m writing this week. Of course, they didn’t have what I was looking for.

What they did have was an awesome book sale!! And I got a ton of books, plus a tote bag to carry them. Of course, all funds go to assist with running the library, which is great. I did find a few books to borrow, but let’s see if I will get them…

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What Do I Do?

I get an hour for lunch every shift. I have to take an hour for lunch or 2 1/2 hours no matter what. I cannot work through my lunch because we are busy and I have work to do and than leave 1/2 hour early. So I do. And I live 5-7 minutes from the store. I have begun to come home for my lunches.

Many would be surprised to learn that I make myself a light lunch. I plug in my phone if it needs to charge and sit myself down in front of the computer. I check my email. I play games on Facebook. I listen to the silence. It is a wonderful thing. I do not answer my phone in this 50 minutes of free time. I think. And I ponder and lately I have been creating.

By nature I am a rather gregarious person. By career, I am a constant talker. Not a stalker although if you pique my interest I might peek around that corner of the aisle just to see what you buy. I talk for 40+ hours a week. Never mind when I run into someone outside of work. Dear lord you would never know that silence is something that I crave.

My brain overloads badly when there is too much noise. When I have no time to breath and everything needs to be completed but oh my god there are line ups! As you can tell I was a little short staffed today. I talk. And talk. And talk and everyone leaves a little bit happier and I am happy too. I made someone smile.

When I come home for my hour lunch it is to regroup. To calm my brain so that we can do the next 2 1/2 hours without my swearing at someone out loud. I will get everything done that I have to. While I do, a small portion of my brain is working on a poem I started this morning. Imagery is of a crazed clown. Not sure where that is coming from but I am going to run with it.

My silence is about to come to an end. Thus I must head back to work. I take a deep breath, grab my phone and out the door I go. I’ll be back because well the crazed clown wants to get loose.

Fantasy Love

Once I thought that I knew what love was

warm sugary feelings

Wrapped around me like grandma’s blanket.

But that is not love.

Love is………

arguing yet still accepting one another.

Love is……..

never seeing one another but know you are there

Love is…….

the ability to see passed your faults and moving forward.

It is not a wonder that love has passed on by

for I dream of a love found in books and fairy tales

Not the love that is really extended.

So I shall say so long and farewell

For I can no longer keep up this fantasy.

 

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

May 22/17