The girls still had school, so we were on a typical schedule. I take Scar to her school with Evie in tow. Afterwards, me and the little shadow go through the bubbles (car wash). Felt I needed to after the weekend soccer tournament and the fact that Scarlett’s pant leg turned black when she brushed up against the door before getting in the car that morning. That was a 5-minute delay of wiping field dust off her khaki uniform pants. Thank God, no meltdown from Scar because of this. She adjusted quite well, which was a gift and a blessing. Thanks be to the Lord.

For some reason, on October 1st, I just didn’t feel like posting anything. Sure, there were funny moments in our lives from Oct 1-5 that I could have made memes out of, but I didn’t. There were sweet moments with my kids that warmed my heart that I could have captured, but I didn’t. There were struggles, frustrations, irritations that I could have released online, but I didn’t.

I just stayed silent.

It’s like I slept over a friends house too many days in a a row and needed the separation.

I spent too much time capturing moments and I think it drained me. I am an introvert so this makes sense. I enjoy social gatherings but afterwards I always feel a little bit drained. Like I gave a piece of me away by talking and even though I wasn’t talking to people on Facebook, I was having a conversation of sorts by posting.

And, it was too much.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the fact that I never really went to therapy and in some ways, I probably should. But that also takes time…

I’m likely avoiding therapy because I’m so used to taking care of myself in all areas of my life. I really don’t like to let other people help me. I think it’s because, as a child, I always had to take care of myself. Others would try help here and there, but if you think about it, you are the only person that can ever make you okay. I internalized this lesson very early in my life. I am the only person I can control so I am going to control the shit out of myself and not let anyone else help. That has been the way of my life for years.

This picture I posted is the issue with social media. Not because sleeping babies might cause you to have baby fever and want to pop out 15 kids. No, it’s because this picture was the highlight reel of my night, not the real reel. That moment and the text I included was the high moment of a night that had lower points. Points of frustration, irritation, and silently whispered curse words. But you didn’t see that here. You just saw the highlight.

I’m not proud of a lot of the things I did as a teenager. I know I’m not alone in this. I always say that you shouldn’t judge the teen stars that have paparazzi following them all the time. Like Britney, Bieber, or Miley Cyrus. Hell, I’m lucky no one was documenting my every move at that age. I’d be in jail 10 times over for all the things I’ve done.

I’m not boasting about this. In no way am I proud of those moments from my past, but its the truth. I made a ton of bad choices.

I’ve shared a lot on my blog so far about my childhood. But, I haven’t really talked about the fact that, for the first 8 years of my life, I grew up poor. Growing up poor caused me to do things I’m really not proud of. But those choices and moments also shaped me for the years that followed. And, I wouldn’t change my experiences because it’s brought me to where I am today.

I’m sharing this piece of my life because it’s a part of me that I haven’t yet. It’s a part I’m not proud of, but it’s a part that’s made me who I am today. We’ve all had experiences that shaped us, good or bad. Being poor shaped me. It shaped how I thought and acted. Not having money can truly suck…but depending on what type of person you are, it can either build your character or break you down.

Gianna overheated at her soccer game this afternoon. Playing in the Florida sun/heat is no joke right now. I don’t think they should have games between the hours of 12-5. It’s like the surface of the sun. Her face flushed, she got carried off the field. They iced her, monitored her vitals, and was out for the rest of the game.

I don’t know what her face looked like. I don’t know if she showed signs that this was coming. I don’t know anything really… because I wasn’t there.
 
I. Wasn’t. There. Her mom. I feel awful.