The Things I Should Have Said | #BehindTheBlogger


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I can remember what the door of the car looked like as we wound around the mountains of Colorado. I don’t really remember if it was dark outside or if the memory is just so dark that it feels dark in my heart but everything in the memory is that of gray. A black and white that can’t be duplicated in photo. I remember looking at the door handle and feeling the car juggle my body around and then I remember he was gone and I knew he was never coming back.

My parents divorced when I was very young and my biological father is/was a bad man. I like to think in the years since he was so awful to my mother, that he’s changed but I know better from conversations with my half brother. I saw him periodically growing up. I remember a brief visit at Easter and car ride with blankets from our mother’s home to his, almost an hour away. I remember racecars and Camel cigarettes and two tiny boys who were my brothers. I remember all the mean from that house and all the sad when I knew I’d never see him or the tiny brothers again when he created an ugly scene in the San Jose airport.

I also remember how it felt to know your parent didn’t want you. I still know, with the full burn of a fresh wound because I think about it looking at my own children. I think about it more then I probably should.

Sometime ago he tried reconnecting with me on facebook. It felt uneasy and sad and I can remember the hurt I felt when he called me by a childhood nickname that means nothing now but did then. He told me I take after a man who I knew only bad about. The only stories I’d ever heard were of suicide and sadness and now he was comparing me to him. He asked about my kids and I told him and he asked about my brother and I told him only a little because I almost felt like he didn’t deserve to know him.

But I was kind. As kind as I could be. To a man who left me so damaged that I am almost 40 and I can’t help but feel worthless. There was so much I should of said to him. That I didn’t because I don’t want to hurt people, just because they’ve hurt me.

The things I should have said to him, GO AWAY. You don’t get the privilege of knowing my beautiful children. A perfect stranger stepped up to be my dad and HE gets the privilege of being their Grandpa. You don’t. Ever. I shouldn’t have to share their names with you because a REAL DAD doesn’t walk away from their kids and so they get to know their grandkids. A real parents doesn’t  let kids feel worthless into their adult life. A real dad sticks around when there is no money and when they hate the other parent because real parents do whatever it takes to be a part of their children’s lives. Love doesn’t come from money, love comes in time spent and you missed out. You don’t  get to know my kids. Ever. It’s the one thing I can’t bend on.

There is so much I should of said and instead, I gave you grace. I don’t know if it’s true but there is suppose to be healing in forgiveness and I am choosing to forgive you but never forget.

I should of said, I’m sorry but you’re not privy to my life anymore. But I felt like grace should win.

Sometime last year I unfriended him. I haven’t looked back. I feel sad for him. And for what he misses. And someday just saying the words, words he’ll never read are enough to begin to let go. I can’t imagine leaving my kids. I can thank him for teaching me that lesson. I know what not to do to my kids…

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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.

Baby you can drive my car..

1982 Honda CivicMy first car was actually a VW Fox. I couldn’t remember the year though and well, hated it. The heat never worked and it had this weird, fake feeling leather that the old Volkswagens had and I sort of feel, still do.

I traded it in for a VW Cabriolet. It died and after a series of stupid, crappy vehicles, I landed this beauty. Only my brother and I painted mine black with pink racing stripes. I loved that car.

It had probably 200,000 miles on it. The radio worked sometimes but it was the best car I’d ever had. I only had to get rid of it when Devlynn’s car seat wouldn’t fit in the back. They were much bigger than and a 1982 Honda Civic has a tiny back seat.

I handed my little Civic over to someone for 300.00 and moved onto motherhood.

Just like that.

As an adult I’ve had a few different rides. A white jeep kindly gifted to us from my in laws. It was stolen on New Year’s Eve and when it was recovered I was too afraid to drive it again. My sister in law helped us get a mini van. It was purple and felt horrible and perfect all at the same time. Buying a minivan made me feel like I was never going to be be cool again. I may never have been cool to start with though. The purple monster served us well, driving us two and from Pennsylvania and then finally it was the van that brought us here to live. The jury is still out on if it brought us home.

As many Dodge’s do, the transmission fell out and I took it too a junk yard, thanking it for it’s service and crawled into van number two. The worst car I’ve ever driven in my life. Never have I been so happy to see a flashing check engine, knowing it meant the end. That brought the Explorer. The car I loved, the car that died. The car that led me to the stupidest van known to man.

Okay that might be an exaggeration.

Last year we leased “the” van. We’ve named him Clark even though I still don’t love him enough to call him by name. He’s brand new and I don’t ever have to worry about him breaking down but not only did he come with a car payment. He came with shame. And utter uncoolness.

Minivan soccer mom, in the minivan that every single mother in North America drives. Except mine doesn’t have a DVD player or automatic doors. Because the jokes on me. (I do confess I hate those doors so really, I am okay with it except mornings at preschool when I feel silly to remind the poor preschool teachers that they have to shut it themselves. Insert embarrassed face).

I should preface that it’s a good van. And as I said, I don’t ever worry it will leave me stranded on the road. I have both peace of mind in good mechanics and Honda Care but there is something to be said about turning in your hot pink hair and picking up a set of minivan keys.

I sold out for safety. I sold out.

I might be having a midlife crisis I realize.

But I didn’t say that outloud.

I’m now searching for Devlynn’s first car. We’ve a small budget and I hear her say a lot how bad she wants a Jeep. She’s not getting one but hey, a teenager can dream. I think back to how great it was to have a first car. I’m excited for her to feel the indescribable feelings of freedom that comes along with being handed your first set of keys. Hopefully she won’t hate me when I ask her to pick up milk…. or drive her brothers to practice.

I hope she finds a car she loves. That she can remember fondly and google should she ever have a midlife car crisis. I have so many fond memories in that car. So so many.

 

 

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.

All this talk of food

We’ve been cooped up for years. Okay, that’s an exaggeration but sometimes the long days feel like years. The cold weather keeps us in and the lack of things to do with a large family, keeps us away from things. Let’s just say, it’s never a good idea to take 5 children into a place like an arcade. It never, ever ends well. So except for a couple of playdates and pre planned adventures, we’ve mostly been throwing the football inside the house (grumble) and watching crap TV. Oh and eating.

I like to take the cold days and bake. The oven helps keep our kitchen warm. It never seems to stay that way. Who ever built the house’s addition, I don’t think they insulated it properly. Everyone loves the bread. We made two loaves yesterday. One was lovely and the other was like a soapy lemon bar. Barf. It called for Lemon Essential Oils, and I added way to much.

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The kids cleaned up to the good loaf in about 27 seconds. Completely warm, covered in butter and honey. Knowing how much they love it, I want to make it for them every day. A labor of love. Unfortunately, I only have enough honey for one more loaf till grocery day. Luckily, well, depending how you look at it, they go back to school today and so not as much bread will be eaten.

We love food. It’s probably why, despite the baby being darn near, two, I’m still carrying the extra 10/20 pounds. I like to cook for the most part. My family isn’t that excited about many of the things I try and make. My husband specifically has issue with meals without meat. I try and avoid those now. But one this we love is guacamole and they say I am pretty darn good at it around here. I might even be the best.

I don’t really have a “recipe” but here is how I make it.

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What you need:

  • 5/6 ripe avocados
  • 1 medium size plum tomato, chopped
  • 1 medium size red onion, chopped
  • 1 medium size jalapeno, chopped and seeded or if you like heat, leave the seeds in
  • 2-4 limes, fresh
  • Cilantro
  • Garlic, cloves or if you’re like me, in a jar
  • Salt
  • Garlic Salt

Cut and peel avocados. Add remaining ingredients and mash with a masher. Stir in lime, salt and garlic salt to taste. Easy.

I tend to use more garlic and lime because I like that tanginess but be sure to taste with the “vessel” you’ll be serving your guacamole with. A salty chip mixed with salt guacamole is a bad idea. So you have a fine line.

And eat it in one day, because I don’t care how many tricks are out there to keep it fresh, I think the metallic taste you get from old guacamole will ruin it as soon as a day after.

It’s our favorite. And I hope you like it too.

Food says “I love you” here. Knowing what keeps my little people’s bellies happy, makes me happy. I love teaching them how to mix and measure and finding out whether one likes coconut while another is more fond of banana. I love how knowing what they like, I can give them some personalized attention, with a cookie or a slice of warm bread or even a bowl of dip while we watch their favorite movies. And it’s these little bits of knowledge that I will tuck away for when they’re far away at college or wherever and need a tiny taste of home. I think food is a big part of happy family memories.

I fondly remember as a child going to my Grandma E’s house. She’s always have lemon cookies and cheese for your broccoli. We’d often have lunch together and talk. I can remember the first time she met my future husband. Twirling the thick noodles of The Blue Parrot and teasing him he needed to eat more. Many of my memories of her are tied to food. And all are good, wholesome and love filled. From pizzelles to Furr’s Cafeteria to a half baked meatloaf my mom made, she finished and we shared to celebrate the birth of my sister. I miss her very much.

Fond memories and food. Such good things. What are your fondest recipes and the memories that go with them?

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.