Little Moments.

When I had my babies, I never thought I would be a single mama one day. It's actually quite saddening to think in depth of the idea of "sharing" your kids. There isn't one family unit anymore. There isn't one set of rules anymore. They are being raised by multiple people now and you really only know half of what they do in the week.They start to become these people that feel a lot like your friends. You have to ask them how their week went. You have to ask them what they have done the last four days. You have to catch up with their lives...but they are YOUR kids, so its strange. And you keep reassuring yourself that you are doing everything okay when you do see them, even though you have zero idea if you really are or not. Sometimes, in my head, I ask myself if they even know I am still their mom...the one who actually made them. Sometimes these things weigh heavy in my heart. It's that icky part about being a parent.

So tonight, as I'm dishing the kiddos up some ice cream with Halloween sprinkles, I go into mom mode and start stressing. You know what I mean, that annoying "shoulda, woulda, coulda" shit that get's us absolutely nowhere. Then Emmy calls me from in the living room. She starts telling me about her two dolls and how they are great sleepers and she tucked them in and read them a story. She is just such a sweetheart. I asked her, {thinking she would say some off the wall person}, where she learned how to be such a great mama. Her response...."YOU, Mama."

Cue flash flood of tears. 

We all have those moments with our babies. The ones' that make us go "Oh ya, I AM doing alright". The ones' that slow down time and your brain and make you forget about all of the smooshed pb&j on the carpet and bills that need to be paid. They pull those moments on us, exactly when we need them, like our own little fairy godmothers. They do it by showing us little bits of ourselves that have rubbed off on them. The best bits, I think. The lessons WE have taught them, but have forgotten in the midst of a crazy, stressful day. 

So here I am, crying, because she said I taught her how to be a good mama. Which means she thinks I am a good mama, which means I AM a good mama. Emmy looked at me like I was nuts for crying and continued playing. Little did she know that she, in a small way, gave me exactly what I needed.  She gave me reassurance. Reassurance that I am a fantastic mama, and what I teach them, stays with them, even if they aren't with me. 

Not spending everyday with my children is so not easy. I am sure I will always have moments of feeling like I can't make an impact only seeing them four days a week. But that's just part of being a parent. I think we all feel like that at times, single parent or not. So when you are feeling that way, just breathe in and take a look at them. They are you. Every word, every mannerism, every little hair on their head, you made happen. That deserves a big ol' pat on the frickin back. People tell me all the time {my mom} that I am doing a great job with my kids and I politely say thank you. But tonight was like "WHOA dude. You are awesome and I made you awesome". I am doing good. We are all doing good. The End.

P.S.

Thank you for the kind words regarding my last blog post. I try to be honest and sincere and real for myself as a release of some sort, but also as a human who just wants people to know that there are other humans in this world. I am not seeking anything or gaining anything from my posts. My only hope is that people know that life is shitty and brilliant all at the same time and we should share BOTH. 

Who I Am Today.

If you had asked me what I wanted to be in high school, my response would have been "a mom'. All my years of video productions competitions and classes, art classes, photography classes and my love for interior design meant nothing to me. I just wanted to be a mom. All of my other skills and interests were not nearly as important. They were simply a "plan B". See, I was raised by a woman who was beautiful in every sense. She was "Mom of the Year" every year. But she was insecure with herself. She got married young and had me at 23 years old and my sister two years later. If you had asked her in high school, what she wanted to be, she would have said "a mom". She never once really found herself. She never once put herself before her girls. We were her life. I admired that so much and I wanted to be just like her.But I obviously was smart enough to know I was not ready to have children, so I ventured off to art school, knowing in the back of my head, it wouldn't take me anywhere. I lacked confidence. I lacked motivation. I lacked the ability to dream bigger than I was. It was a natural character flaw that I had picked up from my mom. I was insecure.

I had an emotionally unstable relationship with my high school boyfriend. We were living together right out of high school and I was far too immature to handle a job, a boyfriend who wasn't good for me, and school full time. So being the insecure girl that I was, I dropped out of school without any intention on going back. Things got really bad with my boyfriend and I and after four years, we ended our relationship. I was 20 years old and already a college dropout. I worked two jobs and made a lot of money, but I was insecure and lonely. So when I met this guy, Samuel, I was instantly hooked. Sam and I went through elementary, junior high and high school together but never really knew each other. He was a babe and he played the guitar and I was smitten. He moved in my apartment a month later. Looking back, I'm almost positive my insecurities and desperation for love pushed him too fast into liking me. Six months later, I was pregnant. Not exactly how I planned my life out, but I was going to have a baby with the man I loved and I was so happy. I was 21.

Fast forward to four years, two kids and a mortgage later, and I am a mess. 24 years old and I still have no idea who I am. My only title was "mom". The one I had dreamed of for so many years. I had post partum depression. Sam was working 80 hours a week so that I could stay home with my babies and our relationship was in shambles. My entire existance on this earth was to take care of my kids and I was doing an incredible job but completely ignoring myself as a human and any other human for that matter. I was deeply insecure. I smiled through it all, almost in complete oblivion that I was destroying myself. This beautiful, talented girl, just wasting away and not giving herself a life. Then I got a wake up call. Sam was done. He no longer loved me. The man I had two children with, didn't love me anymore. I died that day. I died for six months straight. I couldn't pull it together. I was jobless, car-less, house-less and I had failed my family. It took me six months of a deep depression to finally realize that I  wasn't dead. I had a second chance to have a life. And this time, I already had the title as "mom".

This new perspective I had gained came with good and bad lights. I was sharing my kids now. For the first time in their lives, I wasn't there for all of their breaths each day. That took some adjusting. It came with guilt and heartache and regret. But it got easier. I was able to do things I had never done before. Things a 25 year old woman was "supposed" to be doing. Getting coffee and just reading a book, going for late night drinks with friends, or just having the time to get a job. I slowly was realizing that I can be a "mom" and still be my own person at the same time. My confidence was growing. I was figuring out what I truly liked and didn't like about everything. It was scary and unfamiliar but it felt good.

A year after Sam and I separated, I started dating. I had been through a year of horrible emotions and painful healing, and I felt like I was ready to see what was out there. I went on several dates, spent a good few weeks with a few of them, but it never felt right. I was able to see that they weren't the one for me because I had confidence in myself. Finally.

 Fast forward to today, July 2015. I am in a serious relationship with a man who has not only accepted my flaws and back history, but has also accepted my children.  Its quite odd to think of peoples journeys and how we all have very different ones and learn different things from each one. I made a lot of poor choices but I regret none of them. Some of them are terribly painful and I still get emotional talking about them. Other's weren't so bad, but taught me a great deal. Through the last two years,  I have discovered who I am. I am no longer that insecure girl. I am Karissa. Part of me is a mother. Part of me is a florist by trade. Part of me really loves to sing. Part of me is intelligent and creative and bursting with love for myself as well as others. I've learned to not care when things don't work out. I've learned to not care when people don't like me. I've learned to KEEP FUCKING TRYING. I've also learned that there is a person out there for everyone. That person will literally love all of your quirks and personality flaws, just as much as they love your body and the way you make them feel. I have finally found that. But only because I was ready. So here's to life. Mine has sucked really bad at times, but I am still standing. I hope that through your struggles and let downs, you know that you are beautiful, strong, intelligent and worthy of the perfect life for you. Don't be afraid to have it all. Don't underestimate your worth. You can be a mom and a baker and a model and a girlfriend and a kick ass whatever the hell you want to be...all at the same time. You just have to be confident enough to do it.