Fatherhood

What comes to mind when you think of Fatherhood? It is a true gift, not to be taken for granted no less. It seems so simple yet it is non-existent in my son's life. It has always been more of a chore, a bother, a nuisance to the man I gave too many chances to. Too many high hopes that he could be this Father I had always longed for our son to have. A huge milestone arose but at the same time a bittersweet awakening set me free for this longing to exist. Kindergarten commenced. A new birth, a pioneer, a kick off, a new beginning, a revolution! One of the most momentous and significant moments in your child's life to begin. No telephone call. Void. Absent. Nonexistent. My one hope of his acknowledgment, vanished. All was diminished. I knew from that moment that it was my undertaking to be there for our son in all aspects of where his Dad chose not to. In a way I felt truly blessed but in my heart of hearts I was weak and angry. It was a beautiful warm, sunny day. Perfect to celebrate this hallmark moment and what more joyful to walk hand in hand to his bus stop. Taking in nature and feeling the breeze whistle through our hair. Playing timeless childhood games, being so careful as to not step on any cracks or you'll break your Mother's back. Jumping along to our destination. There we stood, a landmark, full of smiles and giggles. Both of us impatiently waiting the arrival of the big yellow bus. My heart filled with so much warmth to see the excitement in his big brown eyes. A moment in time to cherish forever. Down the street, we see the big yellow bus making its stops. The anticipation is almost unbearable. "Are you ready?" "Here it comes!" We walk hand in hand, I guide him along to begin this glorious day. His bus driver is lovely and greets us with a smile of joy. I feel the tears swell up in my eyes as he steps up into his big yellow bus. I bid him a good day and watch him find a seat next to a window where I can see him. He looks at me with so much pride and mouths "I love you Mom". I blow him a kiss and he blows one back, a signature of our love ever since he was a toddler. Blessed is me!

Teaching your children to be bias

Once again, I am at my wits' end with my ex...for a number of reasons but the last straw was him trying to push his racist views onto our children. Him and his girlfriend both have the same opinions on how races should not be mixed, that we all belong with our own kind and that interracial relationships are just not right. Mind you they blatantly told my 10 year old son this. How do I approach this with my ex? I already know the answer. I don't. Why? Because he is never in the wrong. He had no regard to even throw the "n" word around our son. I am thoroughly disgusted by this. My son came to me upset, trying to understand why his Father is like this. I have raised my children to accept people of all colors and they have friends of many races. I am really at a loss on this one. But my children know that yes, people have a right to their own opinion, but not to try and impose those opinions into facts. I can no longer allow my children to be exposed to this type of behavior, among many other reasons...

Mind boggling...

It's been awhile since I have blogged. For many reasons though, for I have not shared and dreaded the reality of my Father's battle with cancer. He passed away December 10th, 2011. I still cannot even fathom this reality as I sit here today. He fought a good fight for 3 years. The most amazing thing of all, somehow he kept his witty sense of humor until the day he passed. I will always admire him for that. It has been an endless roller coaster of emotions. You know when you hear or read of stories when someone passes, a grandparent, a parent, sibling, etc., and true colors surface among family members. Maybe because emotions are tense and raw and we are looking to lash out on those most important to us? Or we are looking to take control of every situation? Or maybe to have all the attention? That day of glory? I am still trying to figure out all the answers. Sad, but true, because of this tragedy I have learned what family is. And now I understand the meaning of knowing who your true family and friends are. It's not always those of blood. But more of who understand you. More importantly, respect you. Accept you. And be accepting of that special man or woman in your life, regardless if they like them or not.


 I have a wonderful man in my life, whom I can't say enough about. I never knew what love was until he showed me (this is true). Still to this day he makes my heart race! Failed relationship after relationship, yes, I had my blinders on and kept falling for the same kind of pathetic, narcissistic assholes. I didn't respect myself and was beaten down so much verbally and mentally, that I thought I didn't deserve any better. After my first treacherous relationship and two children later, I had no desire to even think about having a new man in my life. Let alone a new man around my children. So with my new found independence and life, I got a job and my own place, with my children right by my side. It was the most exhilarating moment of my life when I finally found the courage to leave. I didn't start to get back into the dating world for well over a year.


 And when I did, who did my friends refer me to? Match.com. Go ahead, laugh, roll your eyes, make a remark. I know, I know. That's all I got to say. Well, maybe. I realized how on match or any dating site for that matter, that you can be anyone you want to be. But I didn't take that into any consideration until it was too late. Long story short, I was approached by so many men that I had to ask myself how can there be so many single men?! It was overwhelming. Humorous. Flattering. A little scary. I was on the hunt for those who had children because I had this preconceived notion that a man without kids would instantly have no interest. How wrong was I?! Only to find out many years later after mistake number 2. Third time is a charm, literally!!! I will get to that in a bit. Mistake number 2 turned out to be just as pathetic as mistake number 1. He had the wool pulled over my eyes. Played a total facade while not only playing me, but a few other women as well. We live and learn, right? I became pregnant with mistake number 2. I had the mind set that I was having this baby with or without him. And so I did. A beautiful, handsome boy mixed with my Hawaiian and Filipino genes and his Father's Vietnamese...I had a boy with big brown puppy dog eyes, olive skin and brown hair. I was ecstatic. My other two had their Dad's dirty blonde hair, fair skin and blue eyes. My genes not present at all. 


Fast forward a little here, I was alone during my whole pregnancy, by choice. After seeing what a douche bag mistake number 2 was, I did not want my son to grow up having him as his Father. It was enough for my other two to endure all they were exposed to as toddlers with mistake number 1. So with the emotional support from friends and family, I made it on my own, kept working well into my 7th or 8th month. My sister was with me during my delivery (c-section due to fetal stress) that was scary as hell. But my boy was born healthy and that was all that mattered. About a month or so later, who calls? Mistake number 2. Professing his apologies and love and promises of being a better man, a family man and "I want to meet my son" guilt trip. Bad timing. Ladies, we all know how naive and sensitive one can be after having a baby! I caved. I'm a sucker for second chances. And I just had to find out if he was a changed man. You can't teach an old dog new tricks holds true, so very true. To be continued...

Home is where you let it all hang out...

The world of blogging...a perfect invention for single parents like me to vent all of our trials and tribulations on the every day challenges we conquer, or try to at least. I know many of us feel so alone sometimes when it comes to parenting our children but I guarentee many of our daily lives are eerily similiar. I always try to laugh things off because laughter truly is the best medicine. But, there are days/nights when I just want to pull the covers over my head and sleep the madness away...calgon, where are you???

I have three children. A daughter, 11, and two sons, one soon to be 10 and 4 (will be turning 5 in Dec.) My two oldest have a different Father than my youngest. I am sitting here, relishing the thought of how I would love to bash on the "Father" of my two oldest, but much to my delight, I will save that for later...maybe, lol. Lets go down memory lane a bit. I grew up in a small Oregon coastal town. Commercial Fishing being one of the top occupations, hence, my ex is a commercial fisherman. We were young, fell in love, or so we thought at the ripe age of 19, well, he was 2 years younger (Does that make me a craddle robber???). It was the summer of '96, wow, that seems centuries ago to me. We knew each other through mutual friends. An evening at an infamous beach party, "sunset left", yes, a small coastal town known to have bonfire beach parties. Those were the days. 

It was a harlequin summer romance. Six months into and boom, we get our first apt. It was a condo actually, right by a waterfront marina. Huge mistake. Soon after, all of our true colors came bursting out and never seemed to end. We brought out the worst in each other. It was one of those relationships where it was more of an obsession. Even though we hated each other, we just couldn't get enough. You follow? We went through many times of breaking up and getting back together. It was completely toxic. Years of verbal and physical abuse led me to say one day fuck it. I had just turned 21. A girlfriend of mine and I ventured to Victoria, British Columbia Canada. It was an adventure to say the least. Mind you, I was still very much with and living with my ex. And had no intentions of meeting anyone. But, everything happens for a reason I believe. This was my way out of a bad situation...or so I had hoped. 


Victoria was an awesome experience. The city is beautiful, the people so down to earth and the night scene was unforgettable. My girlfriend and I met a group of guys from the Seattle area at this night club. We all hit it off and ended up spending the next day with them having lunch and drinks and hanging out on their luxury boat. One of them in particular I had clicked with. He learned of my situation back home with my ex and offered a way out. His friend managed a condo property in Bellevue and offered me a job as a leasing agent. So, without hesitation, I accepted. After my girlfriend and I arrived back home, soon after I left my then ex and moved to Bellevue, Wa. It was a whole new chapter, a fresh start to leave all the bad memories behind. Life was good. I caught on quick at my new job and was good at what I did. I made good money, lived on the property and the guy I had clicked with ended being a permanent thing. I had a new life. New friends. New atmosphere. I was close to my family too, who lived less than an hr. away.


 But, in all honesty, deep down, I missed my dysfunctional relationship with my ex. I missed my hometown and my childhood friends. This new life of mine was perfect, almost too perfect. I was becoming weak and withdrawn. And I did the unthinkable. Yep, I made  a phone call to my ex. We were doomed. Blinded by unrealistic love or what people would refer to as lust...