I am no shrinking violet

I feel betrayed. It's a horrible feeling. What's worse is not being able to confront the ones that do it.  It seems so many  that claim to accept and love my family truly don't. At least they are nice to my face. It is hurtful. Maybe because I respectfully speak my mind when asked. I do voice my concerns. I do not just sit back and obey. These are all qualities my husband loves about me. He lived as a single man for 35 years. He worked, slept, and partied mostly. He spent more time with his family than he is able to now I believe. When we met we had an instant, intense connection. Everything happened rather quickly and it seemed to have upset people. My husband and I disagree on occasion, just like every other couple. We stay respectful, do not name call or get physical in any way. Call me naive but I have no worries about him running around on me. you know why? He chose me and my three children out of all the women he dated in his 35 years before we met. He's not as expressive as I am but that man adores me. He shows it. Even when he is mad at me he always tells me he loves me and kisses me bye before work. He always is sure to tell me good night. He puts me and our family first. We are partners. I wouldn't ever hurt him in any way either. I am proud of the man he is. I know in my heart he would do anything to protect and support us. I would do the same for him. I make sure he eats well and has a hot meal when he gets home from work. When I am out and see something he's mentioned wanting, I get it.  We laugh, we share the same interests, we enjoy each other. We compliment each other. I keep a clean house and the laundry washed all week, so he picks up on the weekends for me. That way I don't have to come home to a filthy house after working 32 hours in 48 hours. I get up with Bree all week so he can sleep before work and he gets up with her if she wakes 2 nights a week for me. He works overtime as often as he can so we have extra money to save and go out on. Although we rarely go out. He chooses to work extra. he doesn't have to because I do not sit at home all the time. I work to. I contribute more funds towards our family than he does. It hurts me to hear that people get pissy about him having to get up with our baby 2 nights a week. he worked more overtime when he had his sister and her family or 4 living in his house with out contributing, but that was OK I guess. He doesn't go out on the weekends while I work because he is intimidated to take all the kids out without my help. He doesn't call or visit family much any more because he'd rather spend time with us. He's hurt by all the negative he hears about me. He sees all the effort I make to be loving to everyone. It's really sad. I've overlooked so much out of love for him so he is happy. I do not understand why the rest of his loved ones cannot do the same. i love our mom. She is the only one that seems to truly accept us. Knowing my children are viewed differently than our child together is extremely hurtful. i am trying very hard to not act out or be bitter about it but it has weighed heavy on my heart. That makes it quite difficult to forgive. I love that my husbands family gets together often. I really enjoy that. Now that the negativity is trickling down to my children as well we may all stop attending them. The worst part of all of this is no one will ever come ask me anything. They won't speak to me about any issues they have with me or about me. Its all smiles to the face and knives in the back.

You have what you feel you deserve

I think that is how the saying is worded. That's the gist of it. I've heard it before I ever went to school, early in my first marriage. I remember thinking I know I deserve better than this. Not speaking of my ex husband at the time, because I truly loved him for most of our marriage even if he didn't deserve my love. We lived in a tiny single wide, one bedroom trailer in a trashy trailer park with the most ridiculous neighbors.  It was exactly what you think of when you think of poor white trash. I was not raised that way. We were at least middle class. No fancy vacations every year, but I had nice things and didn't want for much as a child. We rarely made rent on time and rent was cheap. We walked down to the little lake and fished a lot. We were broke. I didn't work and he barely worked. His job was weather dependent. Everyone told me that we all struggle in the beginning of life. It was part of starting out. My ex had seven jobs that first year. Yes, seven. I was 19, he was 27. I talked him into going to trucking school and things started looking up. I got pregnant with our first child and thought, naively, that having a baby would set his priorities. He'd keep a job and be responsible because it's not just us. If I'm not worth working for surely our precious little baby is. He quit his trucking job when I found out I was pregnant. When she was 4 months old he quit another job, then another, then another. I remember thinking my baby deserves more. I'd get so jealous of my friends that could go by their babies new clothes from nice stores, and go have their photo's taken at nice places. I always got the free picture. Most of her clothes came from yard sales and dollar stores. Thank goodness for my mom. She bought her lots of things she needed. That is when I decided it is up to me to change my life. I decided to go to school. I went to the department of labor to see what careers were most in demand. I didn't want to go to school and still be jobless. It was difficult, but I did it. I graduated x-ray school with a degree. I was so proud. I even got a great job as a student making more money than I ever imagined I would. We were quickly able to save for a house. My brother in law had helped my ex husband stay employed with him. He put out so many fires my ex started. I don't know where we'd be without all his help. I thought, this is it. I will finally have what I deserve. I've worked so hard to get it. I have been rock bottom financially, our relationship was rocky at best. When I started getting paid he was nicer, but jealous. I am an emotional eater so during my early marriage, between all the abuse and financial struggle I got insanely fat. You'd think being broke would thin a person out. Not having funds to buy junk. The thing is, most food banks give out junk. Processed foods that keep for a while. Yes, we were that bad off. I often went to food banks, churches and other organizations for help. I worked while I was in school though. I didn't use the government. I am grateful for it's help. I got off track. We found a house that we liked and signed a contract to start building. All was going great. We got moved in and loved it. Our community was nice, it had a pool we could take Talise to. Their was always some community function happening. It was great. I had gastric bypass surgery because I was disgusted with how I looked. I am not a fat person. Inside, I never was. I was just a miserable person. I wanted to be happy and confidant again. The recovery was long and hard. I followed the rules and the weight fell off in 6 months. It was amazing. I went from a size 20-22 to a 4-6. So now I was thin, young, had a great house and daughter. I felt like I had made it for a short while. Just two years into having our house I lost my job. My ex didn't make enough money to pay the mortgage. I worked three prn jobs to try to keep our house. I applied at every hospital and clinic within an hour of me. Even ones I knew I didn't want to work at. I didn't want to lose what I had worked so hard for. My ex refused to get a second job. We were going to file chapter 13 so we could keep our house. Then I found out I was pregnant. I did not want to have to deny my new baby anything so our house foreclosed and we moved into a rental. It was embarrassing. The rental was old and shabby. I hated it. When I brought Mylie home from the hospital I cried because I felt like such a failure. I got my current job when Mylie was 3 weeks old. Thank goodness for it because my ex quit working when she was 4 months old. I moved to Alabama so I could afford to take care of my family. I did too. I worked and paid for everything. I even took us on a small vacation. When I got pregnant with Bronson I told my ex he HAD to work. Period. He was 39 yrs old and useless. I put him through trucking school again as his cdl had expired. No job was good enough for him. He quit three trucking company's before he left. He left when Bronson was 2 months old. I cried for 10 minutes out of shock then realised I was much better off. Maybe now I could have what I deserved. The last two years have been a whirlwind. I met and fell in love with my husband. We married, had a baby and on Monday we sign a contract to start building our home. When I spoke to the mortgage broker and she told me we were approved and how much for I cried. I have struggled so much and worked so hard and every time I though this is it, something bad happened. My marriage is far from perfect. I adore my husband and he adores me. He is the most responsible man I know. He would shovel poo if he had to in order to provide for our children. When we went and looked at the house we plan to build I thought, this is gorgeous. No way will we be able to live here. It is what I always imagined as mine. What I always thought I'd have, but didn't. When she said yes, pick a lot you are approved I cried out of joy and the realization that I did not work or suffer in vain. I have an equal that will bust his tail to keep what we have. We both deserve to have something to be proud of. Don't get me wrong, I love the house we are in now. I love one of our neighbors, our yard and the area we live in. We are just too much for such a little place. Our kids will no longer have to share a room. They will have a pool and playground to go to. We will be in the middle of everything. We are both so excited. Life feels good right now.

My oldest child is a pre-teen. That sentence alone is enough to induce panic in me. In just the last two years she has gone from this:

To this:

She is just so beautiful. She doesn't see it. She really dislikes me taking her picture. Sometimes she catches me staring at her. She gets upset when she does. She is getting so slim. I've been having to buy her new jeans for the first time in three years because her old ones are too big.  She got boys after her like crazy and unfortunately learning how mean an envious girl can be. She's also learning the value of true friendship.  I feel this is the most difficult age to parent. Everything is such a gray area. I never know when it's OK to cuddle her or not. Sometimes she's really receptive to affection. When she's not, the way she jerks away so fast, as if I am contagious, really hurts.  She has always been such a fun, silly girl. I like to be silly with her. That is also a sensitive area. Usually my jokes and sarcasm are received as just that, others it is considered an insult of some sort and tears or angers follows. She wants more privacy, but is still too immature for as much as she requests. She helps me out so much with her siblings and around the house, but won't do much without my asking first.  She has the normal teenage angst. I know it is a phase that will pass, probably all too soon. It is exciting seeing her transform into a young lady. Seeing how talented she is, hearing her praise by others fills my soul with pride. She is extraordinary. I am overcome with love for her. Everything about her that makes raising her at this age difficult is compounded when seeing interactions with her peers. Hearing about her disagreements with her friends is tough. When girls get vicious it is intensely difficult to remain an adult and not flip out! I feel a much greater need to protect now. Not that I haven't always been protective, but I remember being a teenage girl. I can still recall  certain girls that turned on me and tried to make others follow suit. When I see a post on social media saying negative remarks about my daughter I am taken back to that feeling from my childhood. I have to fight to refrain from getting snarky.  I read often about teens being bullied and taking their own life, or snapping and hurting others. I'll be damned if that's one of my babies. Not if I can help it. It's even worse when she feels an injustice by an adult. That really ignites a fire in me. I have learned to go straight to the source and hear out both sides. Even the times the adult is justified my heart still aches for my daughter because of how the situation affected her. Remember those boys I mentioned earlier? That's another conundrum I am not ready for. She's had boys claim her since she was three years old. I've never been a fan, but now that hormones are involved it causes anxiety for me. On the one hand, I love seeing her face light up when she shows me a note from her boyfriend. I am grateful that she confides in me and actually shows me the messages. I dread heart break. I know it will happen one day. It sucks to see your baby hurt and not be able to fix it. I hate the thoughts. Trying to properly parent her rather than be her friend usually makes her mad at me. It's difficult. I love her so much. I pray that once we get through these years she will still love me, and call. I want us to be close. I want to be liked, but I want her to be a productive member of society with good morals and self respect more. I know once she is grown, has a child of her own and experiences the overwhelming love parents have she will understand. Hopefully then it will click and she will come back to me if things get strained between us. Until then I will do my best to give her as much love as she needs the way she needs it and pray.