Where Do I Belong? #behindtheblogger

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Even as a little girl, I sort of felt like I was out-of-place. My parents divorced when I was young and while I don’t have a clear memory of much of it, I do remember the out-of-place feeling I felt sitting in the back of the car, knowing my family wasn’t a family anymore. In school, I never really belonged. We moved several times before settling in a town around my third grade year. I didn’t make friends easily then and I don’t now. I never felt as though I belonged and even as an adult, I still don’t really have a place.

We moved in Pennsylvania in the summer of 2008, right before Drew turned one. I had high hopes of a fresh start. I’d not done well in making adult friends in Colorado. Much of my attempts turned out ugly and the few friends I did make, I kept at an arm’s length as I was waiting for them to leave or be mean too. I struggled at the church we loved and eventually walked away because I didn’t know how to keep up relationships there. I think Kevin still gets mad at me that I burned that bridge. I wanted to be a part of that community but I didn’t know how to squeeze myself into a hole my peg body wasn’t shaped like. So when we moved here I told myself I would do everything I could to fit in.

It worked for a while. I made friends I loved and cared for and I felt like I’d begun to create a village. My kids played with their kids and I felt like I had this system I could look to should I need help and I would be there to do the same. I remember buying this sign for my house that read, “the more you love the more you’ll find that friends are good and people are kind” believing I’d really found where I belonged. Boy was I wrong. I’m not friends with a single one of those people now. Being the common denominator, I’m sure it’s me, I realize.

Now I mostly float in a limbo of not knowing where I fit in; never knowing where I belong. I’ve a few lovely friends far and a few very near. Mostly though I feel like an observer of everyone’s very normal life. And through the years of not being able to make and keep up friends, I’ve created such a tremendous wall that it will truly be a miracle if I can ever get out of my dungeon. Between wondering if I’m “friend material” and the crippling social anxiety, I’ve chosen to sit here and wonder why I can’t instead of trying to do.

Where do I belong? I don’t really know.

I’m the mother of a teen and the mother of a two. There aren’t many mothers like me. Who deal with driver’s license and Gymboree. Ones who have to chase their toddler at their twelve-year old’s baseball game. I am not a first time, twenty something mother but I have a toddler. I can’t do girls’ night out. I don’t even drink wine. I am still breastfeeding, I believe in bed sharing but if my kids want potato chips, I’m okay with it on occasion. So I am not a crunchy mom but I am not what ever the “other is either”. I don’t know where I belong in Mommy world.

I don’t know where I belong anywhere.

I’m hoping with age it will either change or I will come to terms with all these realities. With the fact my “belonging” place is home, alone. Eventually these little guys will be gone and I won’t have to worry about fitting in with the other mothers anymore. I’m almost pray for those days to come but know with that comes an empty nest that I don’t want. It would just be nice to have a “village”, some place, some person to call home. And to my tiny village, thank you. I know I’m a lot. But when I do “belong”, it is because of you.

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Thank you for reading a story from #BehindTheBlogger Hop. Every 2 weeks a group of bloggers is given a writing prompt. These prompts are very open ended, so our bloggers can write about whatever they desire. The main rule is that their blog post directly relates to the topic of that week. The point of this hop is for our readers to get to know us on a personal level.
Please hop along and read all of the blog posts in this weeks hop. Just click the links below. If you want real and raw emotion, then you will find it here. After you read each post, please comment and share. We want to get to know you too!

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Hi! I’m Gail, the voice behind Mimicking Motherhood. I started blogging after the birth of my 2nd child as a way to connect with far away family. Things have definitely changed since then. Now, mama to five, this is a place to help connect with other mothers, who feel like me.I love to make and write all while trying to figure out how to be myself in the world of anxiety and depression. Glad you stopped by.

My Inner Nerd | #BehindTheBlogger

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I have sewed for what seems like forever. I don’t know the ins and outs still but I can follow a pattern and I have gotten better at not needing a pattern at all. I love to sew lots of things, quilts, baby clothes but my most favorite this is to make costumes.

All kinds of costumes. I secretly love cosplay. Or maybe not so secretly. It’s my inner nerd thing.

I start planning Halloween in about February normally. The kids are required to pick a costume well before fall even rolls around. I make these costumes mostly from scratch but even the premade clothes often need modified. This last year Davis was Daryl Dixon from The Walking Dead. I had to hand sew his hand painted angels wings onto a modified thrift store found, leather vest. It easily took two weeks and very, very sore fingers but it’s one of my favorite costumes to date. This year I’m hoping to talk him into being Edward Scissorhands. As you can see, I’m a little late to my game. I need to get him convinced soon because those hands will take some time. I think he’d like to be Han Solo though. I’m fine with that too.

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Sewing is a peaceful thing for me. It helps me to stop well, thinking. Watching each stitch helps keep my mind from thinking of all the things. And I need to stop thinking of all the things these days. Lately, needing the distraction, I have started making the costumes for a photography project I have thought about for years. I hope that I can actually do it because it’s something I really have wanted to do for a while. Time gets away from me, often. More often than it should. And I over think construction and then talk myself out of construction and then I am worried it’s not authentic enough. All insane. I get it.

In August our local mall is having a small “con” and I hoping to enter the kids. It doesn’t leave me time to come up with new costumes though and Davis is pretty dead set against using his Daryl costume again, even though I think it would win the special category. It’s a bad ass vest. I’d like to dress up myself except I have in my head that only size 6 hotties cosplay. And that I am definitely too old. But even us old women can make costumes. And I’d love to really get into it more even if I don’t wear them myself.

So there it is, my inner nerd out for all those to see. Although I suspect a lot people already knew. I can’t wait to take the first set of pictures. All I need’s a little pixie dust…

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Thank you for reading a story from #BehindTheBlogger Hop. Every 2 weeks a group of bloggers is given a writing prompt. These prompts are very open ended, so our bloggers can write about whatever they desire. The main rule is that their blog post directly relates to the topic of that week. The point of this hop is for our readers to get to know us on a personal level.

Please hop along and read all of the blog posts in this weeks hop. Just click the links below. If you want real and raw emotion, then you will find it here. After you read each post, please comment and share. We want to get to know you too!

Are you a blogger looking to join our future hops? Click here Sign Up Here

Hi! I’m Gail, the voice behind Mimicking Motherhood. I started blogging after the birth of my 2nd child as a way to connect with far away family. Things have definitely changed since then. Now, mama to five, this is a place to help connect with other mothers, who feel like me.I love to make and write all while trying to figure out how to be myself in the world of anxiety and depression. Glad you stopped by.

Remember When #behindtheblogger

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I keep sitting here thinking about what I should write. Originally I had searched my photo archives for a photo of my old self. One before I struggled so much with my weight, with how my beauty measures me. Then, in the wake of this week’s tragedy in Orlando, I thought I should go that route. Remembering a time when we didn’t have to talk to our children damn near weekly about how horrible our planet has become. Neither seems to fit. I don’t know if it’s the sadness or the mess of thoughts and questions in my brain preventing me to write about either coherently.

We are living in a broken world. Broken. And it seems to shatter more and more with each day.

Remember when, when it was easier? Or it seemed easier. I remember summers at my Grandma’s house walking down the street to the “candy man”. He’d open the door with joy and a small wicker duck full of hard candy and each visit, we’d take one. Sucking on the treasure while stuffing leaves in mailboxes. We’d be gone hours, safely riding our bikes all around. It was different then. There wasn’t a  tremendous fear of everything, all the time. At least how I remember it. Because we remember things with nostalgia and often without all the truth.

I think though it’s unfair to judge history as if there were no flaws. I watch Call the Midwife each week and weep at the Thalidomide family’s stories. My husband lost a friend to an accident on a bike when the child didn’t have a helmet. I saw teen pregnancy and drug addiction. I watched in horror as Columbine happened in my backyard. We’ve made mistakes in all the generations. There was no perfect time. I think we just remember it with fondness because we are so wrapped up in the worry of the present that we forget that rape, murder and mass death are not new things.

I think what I take from all this is that we have to make the best of the good moments. Remembering to hug our children and forgive our enemies. To let go, something I struggle with. I want my children to have the memories of new adventures and beautiful things and not just the uncomfortable talks in the kitchen or car about rape or why we either agree or don’t agree with the semi automatic weapon thing. They deserve some joy to remember. They deserve to remember their childhoods as happy and not in a bubble or surrounded with fear. They also deserve to know that our world is dangerous and scary so they’re not shocked when they grow up and out of their bubbles.

I want them to say someday, “remember when mom tried to make it all okay.” Even if okay was just for a moment, it’s better than nothing.

My thoughts and prayers go out to all those affected by the Pulse tragedy. No mother should have to bury their child like that. No friend or family member or anyone should have to mourn a loss so tremendous. My feeds are riddled with hate and horror and I can hardly take the emotion of it all. So much sadness, so much hate.

#prayfororlando #morelovelesshate

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Thank you for reading a story from #BehindTheBlogger Hop. Every 2 weeks a group of bloggers is given a writing prompt. These prompts are very open ended, so our bloggers can write about whatever they desire. The main rule is that their blog post directly relates to the topic of that week. The point of this hop is for our readers to get to know us on a personal level.

Please hop along and read all of the blog posts in this weeks hop. Just click the links below. If you want real and raw emotion, then you will find it here. After you read each post, please comment and share. We want to get to know you too!

Are you a blogger looking to join our future hops? Click here Sign Up Here

Hi! I’m Gail, the voice behind Mimicking Motherhood. I started blogging after the birth of my 2nd child as a way to connect with far away family. Things have definitely changed since then. Now, mama to five, this is a place to help connect with other mothers, who feel like me.I love to make and write all while trying to figure out how to be myself in the world of anxiety and depression. Glad you stopped by.