How Do You Turn It off?

I said many times that I will have worn many different hats in my life.
I worked many different jobs.
Some I loved.
Some I didn't love very much.
Some jobs were difficult.
Some jobs came easily to me.
But I still say that being a mother has been the most difficult, rewarding, heartbreaking, joyful, and painful job in the world.

The actual act of giving birth is painful.
The first time your little toddler says, "No mommy! I can do it myself!" That's painful.
The first day of kindergarten, when you turn around and walk out the door leaving your little one in the care of a teacher whom you do not know, that's painful.
When you sit on the bedside of the sick little one feeling helpless as there's nothing you can do to make him feel better, thats painful.
Having to watch your teenager go through his first heartbreak knowing there's nothing you can do to ease his pain, that's painful.
Watching your teenager drive out of the driveway without you by his side and relying on nothing but God and luck that he will make it home safely, that's painful.
Having to bite your tongue and keep quiet while they make dumb mistakes in hopes that they will learn lessons, that's painful.

Waking up early in the morning two days before Christmas to find out your son has moved out in the middle of the night without a goodbye, that's painful!
Trying to come up with answers when your seven-year-old daughter asks "Why didn't he tell me goodbye? Doesn't he love me anymore?" That's painful.
When a child who you've known his whereabouts every minute for the past nine years is gone for a week without a word, that hurts.
When he blocks you on Facebook in an attempt to assert his independence, that hurts.


Realizing that it will all be blamed on me because I am the "wicked stepmother", even though that for nine years I've been the best mother that I knew how to be, stepmother or not, that hurts.
Hearing the lies and half-truths that are being spread when I don't know what I've done so wrong, that hurts.
When you hear tales of drugs and other negative things, that hurts.

When there is no remorse no humility no apology no explanation, that hurts.


That's what I don't understand, as a mother, even if it's just a lowly stepmother, how can you turn being mom off?
How, after spending nine years worrying about your child, trying to show him right from wrong, trying to help them learn how to make good decisions, living to keep them safe, trying to instill good values, and mold him into respectable man, do you just stop?

Even though he's 18 and legally a man, how do you stop your heart from breaking when you see that he's making very wrong life choices?

I feel like I'm watching a freight train racing towards a bridge that's been washed out and all I can do is watch, there's nothing I can do to stop it or even slow it down.

I've spent countless hours replaying the past nine years in my mind, searching for what I did wrong or what I didn't do right enough.  I've come to the conclusion that I don't think I would've changed anything that I've done.

I am not the perfect mother, certainly not the perfect stepmother. But I've done the best I knew how to do, loved the hardest I could possibly love, and protected is fiercely as I possibly could.

But sometimes, I guess that isn't enough...

So tell me people, how do I turn it off?

How do I not lie in bed at night awake worrying?
How do I turn off the constant second-guessing that's going on in my mind?
How do I conquer the self-doubt?
How do I extinguish the anger?
How do I stop my heart from aching?
How do you just stop being mom?

How Far I've Fallen.

It has happened.
I am officially a Baseball Mom.

I now have 2 players in All-Star tournaments.
This means...

I am running to no less than 10 practices per week.....
at different times and different locations....

I am in very real danger of dislocating my shoulder hauling around a cooler full of ice and water...

I spend at least 3 hours per week frantically looking for a lost mitt, or batting glove, or special yellow sock before games...

My new signature scent is a combination of Deep Woods Off bug spray and Banana Boat sunscreen...

I am now a professional red-clay-stain-getter-outter-of-white-baseball-pants (Cascade Dishwasher Soap, Yo!)...

I know the location of every bathroom at every baseball park within driving distance of our farm, AND I can tell ya which stalls are clean and have working locks...

I no longer have a name... I will be forever called #33's Mom or #13's Mom....

I have bruised palms from clapping and a raspy voice from cheering...

I actually OWN a shirt that says..... "Ben's Mom" & "Brooke's Mom" with cute little baseball logos across the front...

I am one of those women I used to point and giggle at!

Karma..... it's a bitch!


P.S , If you see me running around town in a mini van, picking up purple Pom-Poms, Gatorade, And orange slices please PLEASE shoot me.

Oh THIS is wonderful!

I am the mother of several children, most of whom are of the male persuasion.
My eldest testosterone laden young man is 16 years old and has his first serious,
Lets suck face & I wanna stick my tongue down your throat till I can taste your toe-jam girlfriend.

I knew this phase was unavoidable.
I have been preparing myself for it to start.
I thought I was dealing with it all fairly well.
I laid down the rules.
I watch them closely, but from a distance too, if that makes any sense.
He says he won't have sex for years because he is not ready, and she feels the same (for this minute at least) **rolling eyes**

She is a good girl.
He is a good boy.
But, I don't like it.

I have come to the conclusion that all 15-17 year old girls are slut-whores.
Yep, I said it... they are slut-whores who are after MY boys!
They call my house at 11pm.
They send notes to them pledging their undying love.
They wears their pants too tight.
They wear their shorts too short.
They wear too much make-up.
And they are WAY more developed than girls that age were when I was a young teen!! (except for me.... the Boob fairy came to me when I was 12.. I was a 12 yr old full D-cup!! I was NOT amused!)

My boys girlfriend lived about 30miles away from our house, a fact that I loved!
Until today!
Her family moved into a house 4 doors down from ours today!!
I am NOT impressed!
Of course the love-birds are thrilled!
They are planning their afternoons together.
They are making plans for every week-end for the rest of their lives spent together.
**yuck**

I however, see many attitude-filled loud "discussions" with a certain 16 year old boy in my future.
I foresee door frames knocked loose by slamming of the doors by this soon to be angry young-man when his evil bitchy mother does not allow him to spend every waking moment with his true love.

I believe my hard-earned title of greatest mom on the planet will quickly be replaced with the Hag who is trying to ruin his life!

Oh yeah....
Happy Monday!!!