It’s happening! We are down to the final days. It’s so bittersweet, but it’s a completely welcomed change. We are so ready to move forward. I am hoping that this move will be exactly what we all need as we continue moving forward into the future that we deserve. I’ll admit it’s been an emotional roller coaster. Honestly, at times I still think I’m jumping head first into the future and forcing that forward motion before being truly ready to embrace it.
Ready or Not
It’s not easy deciding to move forward. I don’t want a new chapter in this dramatic comedy I have been living these past umpteen years. I want a new book. I want the great start, the clean slate and ready or not I’m going to get it. It’s about damn time!
I’m hesitant about this new start for all of us. Not only are we leaving my home town, we are moving out of state to a new town we have never lived in before. It means new schools, new neighborhoods, and new jobs. However, it also means new opportunities to build the future. It’s a chance and a challenge.
Challenge Accepted
I’m embracing this challenge as one that is going to guide our family forward. We have had so much of our past hold us back for so long. This move is the first step into a future that frees us from that past prison.
This challenge allows us to start fresh. Our girls can begin writing their own narrative. They won’t be bound by hospitalizations that made them targets of their peers. They won’t be weighted with the daily reminders of abuse they suffered in their lives. In addition, they can be whichever version of themselves they choose to be. This challenge is one we all embrace.
Mommy Moves
I hope this move can help others to see that it’s possible. You can take the chances and accept the risk. You can make mommy moves and be the boss of your future! It’s not about running from the past. It’s about chasing our future. We know that mental illnesses will not be left in this home, but we do know that we can move forward with the right tools to manage our mental illnesses.
Never Give Up; Never Surrender
My dad was known to repeat the quote “never give up; never surrender” anytime the going got tough. Well, it’s still just as true now as it was when I was younger. We aren’t giving up and we aren’t surrendering. Our time is now. Ready or not. We are moving forward.
Good Morning! 😘 I am leaning on the My Threefold tribe of mommas to get a little advice on my plan of action! Maybe I can gain some insight from the opinions of you guys! My kids are breaking me! I’m not just broke trying to support my boogie little beauties, I am B-ROKE. I’m attempting to sell the B off from the remainder of the word, kind of b-roke. 🤣🤣 However, I have a plan. I just need some feedback!
It would seem that my children, like most, don’t have a concept of how much money they receive each week for these items. Somehow, it’s never enough. I get calls saying “Momma, I need ….” A text request for my drive home from work, and empty promises filled with cleaning fairy dust and the return of the bowls from the burial ground under the beds in their room. Girls, are gross too, my friends, so freaking gross! 🤢🤮🤢
I am scared to see the results, but for the next week I am going to track exactly how much my kids spend on “luxury” items. I’m not talking about toilet paper or laundry detergent I’m talking about extra lunch/snack money for school, the fast food, requests for makeup, spending money, etc. All the crap they think they need to live their lives to the fullest, like Spotify premium or the unlimited data with 5g LTE, wifi, and the other seemingly priceless items some magical money fairy bestowed on our family of freeloaders! 🙄🙄
Once I show them how much they spent on their personal requests, I intend to show them how much it requires to provide the basic necessities like shelter, electricity, and those 30 minute blood of the dragon showers. The umpteen rolls of toilet paper that I feel are wadded around their hands in cast like fashion to protect their hands from the germs down under. I mean we do have soap, and ya know after you go around twice with Charmin it’s just a blanket you are using to soak up the pee! 💩💩💩 have no doubt that their cost of living is no where near the number they believe it is. They think they don’t have enough, but I see excess and moreover, wastefulness. I’m sure they aren’t intentional in their lackadaisical attitude surrounding their spending habits, just oblivious teenagers. 😒😒
My next step will be to show them how many hours I must work to provide them each the lifestyle they have grown accustomed to living at home. It’s time they see that money isn’t just waiting around for good use. In fact, it is very much earned by my hardworking, blood, sweat, tears, and my time away from them.
I am NOT trying to shame my kids for wanting more, but teach them that the price of tea and fine china 🥄🥄🥄 come with more than just a price to my financial account, but also to my physical and emotional bank account. 🤪😴🤑 The intent is to instill the value of a dollar earned. As a result, I hope they learn to be grateful, less entitled and more appreciative of the work that I put in to meet all of their needs. I don’t ask for much on return. I want respect, both of myself as their sugar momma, and of the property in which I have worked to acquire. Honestly, I think cleaning your room, keeping your own messes cleaned up, and completing one task that contributes to the household per day isn’t a BIG request. 🤔
How do you handle/did you handle chores, allowance, and get the compliance of your family? I don’t like to fight, I won’t argue or beg. I’m to the point, do it or don’t, but when you come asking I’ll mirror what decision I saw you make when I asked for your help. 😤🥱😫Mommin’ aint easy, but together, me and you, we’ve got this! ☮️❤️😊~M #makeitcount #moneymoves #keepingupwiththejoneses #mybrokebougiebrats #helpamommaout #mythreefold #broke
The Christmas Comedown, otherwise known as post holiday dysfunction at my home. I wrote about something similar last year and called that post The After Christmas Crash. I must not be alone in this aftermath effect of the hustle and bustle that leaves us feeling a bit like a deflated balloon after a party. Obviously, it is a reoccurring event that now I must find my way through each year.
Post Holiday Dysfunction
This is not a diagnosis in the DSM or even an actual medical term in any way. Its just my description of the feeling that comes after being hyped on Christmas cheer, chaos, and anxiety for weeks and then suddenly the crash happens. We are no longer amped up with this adrenaline, increased serotonin, or oxytocin that our bodies have produced to get us to Christmas day. The side effects of our bodies not producing the same amount of chemicals that our crazy Christmas countdown did leave us feeling in a slump.
The hustle bustle of the holiday season is what keeps us going. The days right before we are overstimulated and overwhelmed with all of our to-do lists. However, the days after, it’s almost like we are missing something. In my opinion, we are. We are lacking those stress responses that keep us energized enough to wrap 27 gifts in the early morning hours. We know longer have the alarm bells of moving elves, finding that last minute deal, or scheduling the seven Christmas visits we need to make.
Substitution or Satisfaction
As a mom, I know, there is always the next thing to start doing. Eventually, a new problem to solve will arise or a child will have something else for us to figure out. The slump of emptiness and unmotivated restlessness will fade away probably sooner than we realize. In the meantime, we are forced to find a way to either substitute the lack of endorphins or find a way to be satisfied with the slower pace.
Substitution
I will be the first to admit that relaxing and just allowing things to settle isn’t my strong suit. I wish it was. I’d love to be more like my husband who can find peace in a TV remote and a comfortable bed. For me, I’m looking for the next thing I need to do.
I don’t just relax very often. I feel restless, stagnant and pretty irritated when there is nothing to do. I can also admit that although I don’t want to get out, I want to not sit still. I don’t want to clean my house, but I want some tasks to do. I’m not sure that makes sense. However, I think that is me thinking that doing nothing is equal to laziness. I know there are many things I could do, but I am just looking to procrastinate those as I wait for the motivational push to actually get them done. That usually only comes with those stress chemicals our brains release when our back is against the wall.
Instead of relaxing into the moment, I overthink myself into this ball of stress and irritation. I find the fight instead of just allowing the battles won to be celebrated. I look for the substitution in order to get the fix of adrenaline and endorphins that my body became accustom to receiving during the stressful holiday season.
Satisfaction
Contentment is one of those things I long for, but to be honest, it also sounds boring. I want a lot, I expect a lot, and I do a lot to try to get what I want. However, I do want to learn to be present and just enjoy the now. I don’t want to plan out the next 5 years daily nor make lists of all the things I need to accomplish. I don’t want to plan for unlikely hypothetical situations or assume the worst. Hello anxiety. I want to be able to just be. No strings attached. Unfortunately, this is a skill that has been elusive to me for years.
I should be counting my blessings, celebrating my wins for this year, and enjoying some time where the kids all are happy and content playing with their new gifts and gadgets. How do I curtail this Christmas Comedown and post holiday dysfunction?
Combatting Christmas Comedown
You guessed it. My own concoction of how to combat this Christmas Comedown.
Take some time to do something for yourself.
Meditate
Buy yourself a gift
Read, write, or take a nap.
Enjoy time with family
Accomplish a to-do you’ve been putting off.
Get out of the house for fun instead of out of necessity.
Celebrate your wins.
Go on a date.
Exercise.
Meet up with a friend.
Have a dance party or scaryeoke.
The short and long of it is to do something fun both for yourself and with others. Enjoy your holiday successes or just celebrate that you survived another Christmas! Either way, it’s done and we have nearly a whole year before we have to be all Christmas Carol, the elf moving, Christmas magic making, PTO participating, merry and bright decking the halls Santa’s helpers again. Count your blessings. As always, we’ve got this! ☮️❤️😊~M
I feel like it wasn’t too terribly long ago that I looked into your beautiful baby blue eyes and saw this new life in you that made me a mom. A little nose like mine and strawberry fuzz that covered your crown. You were magnificent and I knew that I too was reborn that day. You made me a momma, and in your little face I had found my truest love to date.
I was only 19, barely on my own path and I was suddenly diving headfirst into a world that previously had involved the occasional messy diaper and few other minor inconveniences that my babysitting jobs entailed. I had no experience with your tiniest of frames at 17 1/2″ and 6lb 8oz you were much like a baby doll i had once drug around as a small child.
I was just a baby myself, much like you are now, my sweet little love. I was freshly plucked from my fast life as a teenager and tossed into this world of Motherhood. I was grateful beyond measure for a family that a seasoned pro ready to spoil her first grandchild and a poppa who thought you hung the moon. Foe the first time, I saw how hard it was to be the mom. It was an appreciation I hadn’t known prior to your arrival.
Here we are, a mere 18 years later and I’m standing the shoes your Nana once wore, without her here pushing me on. I watch as your still tiny frame tries to accommodate your own little girl. I never thought about being a Nona, Mimi, Nana, or a Mamaw past that “one day” assumption. Yet here we stand. Footsteps that I didn’t wish for you to follow. A path that’s hard to tread at your young age.
Everything will be harder. It will, however, be clearer. You’ve already decided certain aspects of this little person’s life that will impact their life for the future. A name, a nickname, where you’ll live and all things you want, hope, and dream she will be. However, who she is will be shaped and determined by the paths we as the family who surrounds her chooses to take. As you know, my little love, children are most often along for the journey chosen by those who raise her.
I hope with your own journey in mind that you know this much is true. I am here. I am still your momma even as you become a momma yourself. I can still kiss the boo boo’s, but I can’t take the falls. I can hold you as you scream, but no matter my desire I can’t shoulder the pain. I can guide you, show you and teach you the lessons I’ve learned but I can’t transfer the experience. I can be like the grandmother that was taken from you 14 years ago, but I will never be Nana you knew, nor the momma you are now.
Life has thrown us a lot of punches. We’ve taken the hits and learned to fight back. You and I grew up together, myself as much as you. I was forced to walk this road down Motherhood lane much on my own. I haven’t been the mother you deserved, nor always the one you needed me to be, but I’ve been the best I knew how to be. You, my little love, will too. Mommin’ aint easy, but I’ll be here for you, with you, and loving you through it as long as I live. You’ve got this, my sweet little love! You’re as tough as a mother. I can’t wait to see the amazing person you’ve created and watch you become the momma you never knew you were destined to be. I’m proud to be your momma. Soon, you’ll understand just what a mother’s love truly means.
My heart is broken. I am angry and sad. Tonight, my daughter {#3 of my threefold, age 11} wrote her letter to Santa. She admitted she wants a lot for Christmas, but what she wanted most was to be able to see her dad. This shouldn’t be a request, a gift, or even a thought. You would assume that it would be an easy Christmas wish to grant. However, it’s not. This is because her dad, is the real Grinch.
The man she calls dad is not going to see her this Christmas or any of the three daughters that bear his name. It’s sad. It’s sad, because while he lives and breathes and walks this earth each day, he has chosen not to be a dad. The calls are rare, the visits are nonexistent, and the manipulation is heavy. Instead, drugs and toxic cycles of abuse and manipulation are his legacy.
Snapshots of Dad
The man she knows as dad chose drugs over being a parent. He chose his own selfish desires over being a dad. He chose a life that has no place for children and no room for a relationship with them. Its sad. Tragic and heartbreaking. My 11 year old wants a dad that he cannot be for her or her sisters. She compares him to the grinch. Bad on the outside, but deep down he is good. However, no matter how much we struggle even in “recovery” he refuses to be a participant in parenting.
A year ago he had money to spare from his 100k inheritance and sat unemployed. He smirked as he bought a new motorcycle, drums, camera, phone, computer and the list goes on.He went on vacation and to concerts. He bought drugs and partied regularly. Meanwhile, I struggled to pay our rent and buy Christmas for my threefold.
6 months ago, he had already pawned everything he owned. The one thing he had left was the car that he traded his 2022 Harley in for. That car became his home. This man who had physically, emotionally and financially abused mythreefold and I called ME for help and because I wanted to be better, I helped. I checked him into rehab. Drove him to the facility and even bought him the things he needed. I housed his belongings and kept his friends updated. I had divorced him, moved on with my life, but still tried for my threefold.
After Rehab, I got him into a sober living facility. A week in and he left. He showed up at my door and demanded his belongings. I told him we were done. I stood strong as he towered over me in my own yard. I called the police and he left.
All of this followed by a week of hell and we were scared as he sat stranded without gas money just a few miles from our home. Finally, he was rescued by a friend and he left town. He had vanished 500 miles away to live with his younger brother on the opposite side of the state.
Wish Ungranted
Months went by and we hadn’t heard from them. Last month, he began communicating with #3, the only one that still has affection for him. The one that still wants to believe his lies and sees hope in his darkness. The one that sees the good inside the grinch. I wish I could fix the bad, but I can’t. Mom is not made of magic.
Now, this. A letter to Santa. After 28 weeks of combined trauma care and crisis intervention for my youngest two daughters. I work my life away to provide the life we have. Up to 50 hours per week, side hustles, and resourcefulness. I don’t receive financial support from the government, nor do i get support from him. This is my hard work, blood, sweat and tears. Its that of the man that stepped up. This is 50k in medical debt, scrounging for grocery and bill money, a vehicle with a blown engine and prayers for a Christmas miracle that includes gifts under our tree. This. A gift I can’t give. The Christmas wish I won’t be granting. Although she understands, she doesn’t see how much I want to give her the dad she needs him to be, not the grinch he chose to be.
Per the request of readers & followers of My Threefold donations for My Threefold can be made via cash app $mythreefold or venmo @my3threefold. ☮️❤️😊~M
