Everyone Has An Opinion...

I feel like I am surrounded by people with opinions. Fine and dandy to have opinions, but they all seem to be geared to what I should do or what I should like. People who don't knit cast out comments about how I should do my new hobby. Have you even lifted knitting needles before? People who have different tastes then me mark their opinions on something that I think is really special. People stand back doing nothing but stirring up the pot and put me down for harbouring some angry feelings. People who haven't walked one day in my shoes tell me how I should live my life. Frittering on the side that falls short of anything supportive.

I don't tell you how to live. I don't tell you how to be. I don't tell you how to react. I don't tell you what to like. My kids are more than cared for and that is all that matters. My life is hard, but I took that path and right now God isn't offering up a break. These back biting opinions are making me angry and I am tired of it. I want to be me. I want everyone to live their own lives and somedays just keep their opinions to themselves.

Finding A Way...

While he's unemployed and "finding himself", I work two jobs. While he tithes to his church to look like a good soul, I pray each and everyday that I have enough money to make my mortgage payment. While he searches for the perfect career, I am run off my feet to make sure our children have everything they need and deserve. He has the world convinced that he is a great charismatic guy. Problem is, he isn't advertising that he doesn't help put food on the tables of his children. Or clothes on their back. Or help pay for daycare so their mom can work these two jobs. And to think after he promised to pay, I wiped his debt clean in the eyes of the Family Maintenance Enforcement. He tricked me. This man who claims to be such a saint, fooled me. I thought I was doing the right thing, and where did that get me? I throw my hands up to you God. He's yours to fix. I will continue to pray that the children stay in my custody most of the time, but as far as prayers for him, I give up.

My mom watched a show today on marriage breakdowns. The psychologist said the biggest reason for failures these days is when the woman loses respect for her husband. It starts when she realizes she has to do everything. The children come and the wife feels overwhelmed and ignored. The resentment begins and it is quickly followed by anger and withdrawal. That sums my life up perfectly. If I am going to do it on my own anyways, might as well be happy. So I work my ass off. I think each and everyday angry thoughts about the man who I had children with and disrespect more than any other in this world. Behind all that, I am happy. I am thankful that I had to courage to leave. I am thankful that I have an education to help support my family. I am thankful that I am smart enough to know what needs to be done. I have two beautiful children and a wonderful man who I have a mountainous amount of respect for. The rest I can put behind me. Clear the slate of anger and just be thankful.

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable — if anything is excellent or praiseworthy — think about such things. Philippians 4:8

A Little More Drama...

Here we go again. I feel like retreating and hiding in a hole all over again. This world is filled with such a gross amount of misunderstanding that some days it is hard to function. Information being read and passed along from Facebook. Information that has no right to be forwarded beyond the friends list. Perhaps some people aren't the "friends" you think they are. Some of that information is pure factual truth. Some, a matter of opinion. The reality is they are my opinions. They are comments from people who love me and defend me. And they get turned and used against me.

His mom confronted my mom yesterday. A battle of the Grandma's. "We've read what you wrote on Facebook. You know, you really should be nicer to him. He is trying." With a gasp of disbelief, "Do you honestly think he's such a saint?" The response... "Yes."

That is the ultimate defense for your child. Calling them a saint after all he has done. Saying that the "She Devil", as he coined her, is such a beautiful, generous person. Hiding and winding yourself into this loving little family. A few question fill my mind. Is hiding the reality of what a person has done, even if it is your child, make it disappear? Does calling out people for things you yourself have done make your sins smaller? Does suddenly going to church and turning to Christ, but still failing to open your eyes to the truth, suddenly make everything okay?

He may sport a bracelet that has "Truth" written on it. They may all tote themselves to church and leadership conferences, but one things stays the same. Them. Their spirits. Their hard hearts. I was always under the impression God does not want to keep you the way you are. They are in for a rude awakening.

Not Today...

Miss J and I had a delightful time today. With every raise of her hand or gesture to a friend she turned to see if I noticed. She knows I expect her to behave at school and she did very well. My little girl makes me so proud. I am thankful each and every day that God trusts me to take care for her.

The downer part of my day is that her father handed me a child support cheque. The amount... cut in half. He sat in a court room three short weeks ago swearing he would pay an amount twice what he gave me today. I told him that just because he turned down a job and chose to collect unemployment doesn't mean he has a right to do this. So here we go again. I've been lied to and defeated. By a man who sports a bracelet with the word "truth" scribed on it. I shake my head at the antics this man pulls. I pray desperately that people see what he really is. That the smoke screen is lifted and people call his bluff. People in his life that matter, because it certainly isn't me. It isn't apparently a provincial court judge either. He seems to think the judge's words were spoken in vain and easy to ignore as well. More redemption for me that none of this is personal. He's just truly stupid and blinded by the advice of his lover. The "she devil". Lovely.

At any rate, it is what it is. It is not going to ruin my day. The truth I know is that I had a nice day with my daughter. A rewarding day. I have an opportunity to spend some quality time with N tonight. Time to enjoy a warm meal, a good laugh and a quiet cuddle. The rest... can go pound sand.

Photos By Carsey...

Baking Day...

This is my first day as a volunteer in a Kindergarten class as opposed to being the teacher. The best part... I am volunteering in my daughters class. She seems excited. I am excited to just be a mom. The best part of my life is getting to do these kinds of things. I like to think that because I have to make the effort to do them, like book a day off work, that it makes it that much more special. Being a working mom is not always ideal, but I feel blessed to have employment that is flexible as far as getting time off to do things that are important to her. I hope she recognizes the effort when she is older.

Socks of a Million Colours...

I am the kind of person that owns only black socks. I used to be the kind of person that had socks in a million different patterns and colours. Some with cats. Some with stripes. And most certainly, socks for every holiday. That was a time when life was easy and carefree. Perhaps this is only a smaller mark of how life has changed me, it does say I simply don't have the time to bother matching MY socks anymore. The basket beside my dryer that has been consumed by a load of clean cotton beauties, tells me so. It comes down to folding pesky socks, or spending time with my children. The choice is obvious. It is a morning event to have to run downstairs and find socks for all of us. An event in which I have shaved seconds off my time by choosing only black socks for me.

Tonight I went downstairs to find N sorting socks on the laundry room floor. Sorting. Matching. Folding. I sat beside him and it turned into quality time. A time that came with conversation, giggles and a small realization. I have someone to help me. I have someone to pick up where I leave off. I have someone to worry about some of the little things with me. I have someone that chooses to do things to help me. I don't have to do this alone anymore. I have someone to sit with me on the laundry room floor. I have someone who loves me enough to fold our socks. I don't... have to do this alone anymore.

Thanks to N and the goodness and help he offers my life I could, if I wanted to... go back to being the kind of person that has socks of a million different patterns and colours.