When I became a Mom I realized that my life was no longer about me. I was having a great time…I ran a website called AllThingsMetal.net where my staff & I were interviewing some of the most amazing rock and metal artists and bands in the business. We had free tickets to every rock & metal concert for review purposes. We held contests to those same shows. It was a LOT of fun…!
So I give birth and realize my time NEEDS to be committed to her (she was also a preemie). My life changed and I have ZERO regrets…I had my pre-parent fun. I missed writing though.
So I became a Mom blogger and began promoting products that I loved or reviewing products that were new. This was fitting for the new life that I had. I still continued promoting bands a little, but maybe went to three shows a year, instead of three a week. Did I miss it? Of course! But I was really loving being a Mommy.
Then school began and I became a Girl Scout volunteer, she started taking dance, gymnastics, karate, etc., I began volunteering at my aunt’s non-profit, I got married, we bought a house and time became even more limited. So I gave up Mom blogging. NO regrets.
Now we have a family blog where I write about our life (when time permits), I promote children’s shows (Disney on Ice, Disney LIVE!, etc.) and my kid is slowly learning my love of music (her Daddy introduces her to new music all the time) and of some local bands that I have loved for years. She wants to go to some shows. She’s met a few of those from local bands and idolizes them. One kissed her hand and she thought that was SO cool LOL
What I’ve realized is simple…you don’t have to give up what you love, but you do have to remember that becoming a parent is sacrificing some things, doing some new and remembering how vital it is that you put your child(ren) and priorities first. I’m proud of the decisions that I made for obvious reasons.
Sure you miss out on some fun stuff along the way, but you also learn to do some *new* fun stuff that you’ll enjoy just as much. Children can’t take themselves to places where they want to go, make memories without someone to make them with, nor understand that their happiness is equally as important as yours. They will, however, remember the one who did and for that their respect, love & gratitude for you will be the best reward there is. You’ll recall memories made for years to come, that will mean more than anything else (trust me), and that is what you will be remembered for long after your time on Earth is done.
So with my mid-year (sort of!) resolution I promised I would write more posts and here I am just a few short days later doing just that. I’m feeling somewhat accomplished in that regard.
Actually I’m feeling pretty accomplished on so many levels.
Alexis had her Field Day at school on Friday. She had an absolute blast!
She got a little lost.
Saturday we attended my cousin’s birthday party at a gymnastics place (Parkland Gymnastics to be precise) in Farmington, Missouri. He had one there last year as well — it’s a fun place and a unique birthday party opportunity. Happy 8th birthday, Aidan!
This is serious business.
We went out to my Mom’s house last night (Mother’s Day) to celebrate the obvious, but also Steve’s birthday; he’s a whopping 33 years old now. We had a great dinner: steak, fried green beans (w/bacon & onions), “Mom’s Perfect Salad” (that’s what I call it), homemade mac ‘n cheese & garlic cheese bread. For dessert we had birthday cake. I bought him and Mom both some ‘toys’ for the pool at the house in Florida. I can’t explain in mere words how excited I am to see them both put them to use. Knowing my husband I will have some incredibly funny footage of him doing just that. No, really…he’s a funny guy! You’ll have to check back for that later 😉
Today I spent most of the day doing some basic cleaning and picking up around the house in preparation for my grandparents tomorrow night; they’re coming out for dinner. Grandpa, who I refer to as “Pop”, has requested my meatloaf. I asked him, “Don’t you want something different?” he looked at me and said matter-of-factly, “Nope. I love your meatloaf!” So meatloaf it is!
Wednesday I have an interview with the St. Louis Beacon for the Missouri Military Memorial Foundation. It’s a simple phone interview so it shouldn’t take long (30-45 minutes per the reporter) and after that I have some last minute items to pick up for the…
End of year celebration with my Girl Scouts. I’m not sure that I ever mentioned it on this blog, but I ‘took over’ as Leader for our Girl Scout troop at the beginning of this school year; I was their Co-Leader for the first 2 years. We have a rather large troop — 17 girls. We earned 20 badges this year which is really pretty impressive in itself. I absolutely love volunteering for GS because quite frankly we all know that I love kids. Those are ‘my girls’ and have had such an amazing time working with them on those aforementioned badges this year. I can’t wait to see what we accomplish in the 2013-2014 school year.
So back on track…after that my Mom is bringing her dog out here for me to dog sit. Which means I’m pretty much down for the count all weekend because if I leave the house she tends to try and off one of our cats lol Okay, so that was overly-dramatic – she doesn’t try to physically hurt them, but she scares them to no end with her bark & random ‘chasing through the house at fast speeds’. With that said, I figured that would be a good time to do some deep Spring cleaning. You know, the kind I do about once a month — Spring or not.
So there’s my first attempt at trying to stay up-to-date with my blog…and I haven’t even begun to touch on the topic of next week. No complaints though. I just remind myself how fortunate I am to be alive. Fight death just once and you learn to quickly count your blessings. The petty stuff is irrelevant — trust me 🙂
That’s about where I’m at right now…and evidently have been all school year. We are just that busy! However, I’m pushing myself to start blogging more because quite frankly…I enjoy it. It is a release of all things that weigh heavily on my mind or something I may just want to chatter about, but most importantly…state my opinion on.
So be looking for more posts in the near future.
Oh, and take note of the “new” name, Jenntality. While I love the concept of He Said vs. She Said — we don’t always discuss similar topics and doing what we I initially intended escaped my husband’s analytical mind. If only he would listen *tsk tsk* 😉
Jenntality is a representation of what I think — my mentality; not everyone else’s. It should be fun and it will represent me better.
If you want to catch me on Twitter and you can do so here: @Jenntality
I’m JUST starting a Facebook group page at this location, but my regular page is at this place in the meantime. Stay connected. Introduce yourself. If you’ve been a reader of mine from previous endeavors…welcome back.
I’ve waited a long time to make this post because well… it’s personal. You see, I believe we all have things we go through that shape who we become as an individual, our beliefs, morals, etc. This is why I am… the way I am.
Part of me doesn’t want to write about this because after over 30 years of it being a major influence on my life it finally came to an end. I don’t want to give it more attention than necessary as I was finally able to move on. However, I also realize that my story may help someone else. So, if it helps only one person…it will be well worth the effort that it takes to write about it here.
To save myself a little grief I am going to copy & paste what I wrote on MySpace July 23, 2009. So here goes:
The picture of the man you are looking at is my biological sperm donor aka BSD. I didn’t officially meet him until I was 18 years old. By the time I was 19 – I was done & wanted nothing to do with him. He had always been in and out of prison. He was notoriously known for stealing cars. However, that all changed 13 years ago.
I had been living in Hannibal, Missouri at the time this all came to a head. I was at work one night and my roommate and I had a fight over the phone about something so I went home to clear stuff up with her. I was gone, from work, maybe a total of 10 minutes. As soon as I walked back in the door, the phone was ringing, the staff were acting panicked & I was standing there wondering what was going on.
One of them said, “It’s her, it’s your mom” as they handed me the phone. When I put the receiver to my ear I could hear the sheer fear in her voice. “It’s your father. He’s threatening to kill you and on the way to Hannibal now.” All I could manage to get out was, “WHAT?!” as I turned around and saw 6 police cars pull up at a fast pace and slamming on their brakes.
I stood there completely & utterly stupified.
That’s when they, and my mom, were telling me what had transpired. My BSD was angry, very angry, that I refused to talk to him. He didn’t understand why I wanted nothing to do with him. I first talked to him at 15 years old and then met him at 18, as mentioned before. I can not begin to tell you the amount of times I had been pulled out of school (elementary, middle and high school) telling me that he had escaped and was making kidnapping threats. Even one time my friend & I, Melinda, were walking home from 5th grade class… I noticed a lot of police cars in front of our apartment building. The phone, again, was ringing and it was my mom telling me to stay away from the windows and to answer the door for no one. He had jumped out of the 3rd story window of the Hillsboro Jail.
Because of him I had spent more than half of my life looking over my shoulder. I tried to fix it by letting him in my life. I told him, when I was 18, “Stay out of trouble for one year and I’ll start giving you my trust”; and he did. In fact, on the one year anniversary of him staying out of trouble I had made a huge dinner to celebrate. For the first time in my life I gave him a hug and called him “Dad”. One hour later he received a phone call and had to leave stating he would be back. 3am that following morning I received a phone call telling me that he had been arrested for holding someone up by gunpoint.
I gave him the benefit of a doubt as he claimed his innocence. His ‘innocence’ showed up in the St. Louis Post-Dispatch around a year later in a written confession to Bill McClellan in the Everyday section. That was the day I ‘wrote him off’ and quit talking to him.
And that was why he was angry. That is why he found it justifiable enough to want me dead.
For about 4 days I lived under police protection. In my home, on the street, down the street and then some. I refused to stop working so they sat with me at work, outside of my work, etc. Then they apprehended him. It was over. The longest 4 days of my entire life.
But it was when I discovered the charges that my stomach starting spinning in 360’s. His charges were raping a 15 (age I was when we first started talking) and an 18 (age I was when we first, officially, met) girls on two separate incidents. I didn’t put that together until later when speaking with a counselor. We assume (albeit I feel it’s a safe assumption) that they were more than likely hate crimes against myself and since he couldn’t get to me… you get the idea.
Imagine carrying around that guilt. I have never been able to get those girls out of my mind…and it’s been 13 years ago.
During these 13 years I have kept up on where he is incarcerated at, kept him from making contact with me (directly or indirectly; he used to be put in the hole for any attempts) and preparing for the day he will be released.
My fear is simple. Each time he has been released his crime is more severe; so much for rehabilitation. He always had a fall-back – his mother. But shortly after he was arrested for raping those girls his mother died. He has no where to go and nothing left to lose. So, I fear that he will make an attempt on my life and I have a valid reason to believe so.
It’s not that I don’t think I can protect myself from him. I just don’t want to have to go through it… again. I’m tired of it. I’m tired of him. I keep waiting for that phone call telling me, “He died. He’s gone. It’s over” and it never does. I feel like I’ve waited my entire life just to breathe. To be done with this and enjoy a ‘normal’ life with no looking over my shoulder.
Now to catch you up-to-date:
He was released in June 2010.
Shortly after he was released he started sending me messages via his sisters Facebook account to my Facebook account. There were a total of 3 in August of 2010. The first one was to inform me that he was out. I don’t even remember what it says exactly, and I don’t feel inclined to search it out in my inbox – I just ignored it. The next one said something about my profile picture, “You don’t look as happy as you used to“. So I changed it to one that showed… “Oh, but I am!”, yet I didn’t respond. Then the next one came & said something like, “That’s more like it“. I just let it go & again didn’t respond. I knew the moment I responded the more he would push.
Back in December of 2010 I received information that he had a stroke. That stroke left him unable to take care of himself. While I will never say karma stepped in to prevent him from harming another human being I will say… it sure made you believe that was the case. A couple of my cousins sent me messages on Facebook letting me know that he was requesting to see me. I was even sent a picture in an attempt to make me feel guilty. A failed attempt, but this is the standard for SOME (not all) SOME of that family.
The “Guilt Picture” sent to me
I thought about it. I would have loved to have asked him questions and get those answers I tried getting out of him, years prior, as to why he did the things he did. However, I knew anything he said would never be taken as truth because he lied to me about every thing imaginable. He said so much negative stuff about his own blood family and yet those same family were there supporting him while on his death bed. Things he did to them, behind their backs, and there they were…supporting him. Perhaps they forgave him. I get it. Forgiveness isn’t about the one who failed you – it’s about you. I could forgive, but… I most certainly would never forget.
The following May my biological father died.
I did cry for him. No matter the amount of evil that I feel he had inside of him he was still my biological father. I did know him even if only briefly. I was also confused, but confirmed by professionals (I have friends in that field that I go to) that my reaction was completely normal. That was nice to hear because I have to tell you… that was a TOUGH pill to swallow.
Not only did I mourn, even if only for a couple of hours, I also felt the biggest relief I have ever felt in my entire life. While I knew I was safe I was growing extremely tired of looking over my shoulder and being prepared for his next threat. Living with your guard up for so much of your life is hard to contend with.
After I cried, after the relief set in I was ready to put this chapter of my life behind me. Whatever he did in this lifetime is now between him and God; not me, him & God. Just because he was my biological father does not mean I HAVE to care. If that were the case, that would have meant he was just as entitled to care about me for the 30+ years prior to his death. He didn’t. His actions during all of those years confirmed that.
Perhaps that’s why I didn’t find it upsetting that his sister decided not to include my name as ‘those he left behind’, but oddly included my mother (with her first AND last name completely misspelled). That just goes to show you the type of mentality that runs through some of that bloodline. I’m sure I’M the bad person, from their perspective, because I stood up to him. And I think they were for condoning it. My actions didn’t cause him to do anything bad to anyone. Condoning bad behavior did – he thought it was okay and that everyone would forgive him.
The best I could offer up was to move on & forgive. However, I know in my heart that I will never forget the things my BSD did to me and to countless others.
The man in the above pictures is precisely why I am the way I am. Exactly the reason why I have so much compassion for others. I am his polar opposite and yet I am his biological daughter. (This is where I throw in that I’m overly grateful for the amazing family – my mother’s side – that I was raised by).
I have always felt as if I need to right his wrongs and I always will. I am a victims advocate for a reason. I am a children’s advocate for a reason. I fight for those who can not or will not stand up for themselves. I am the product of evil, but I am stronger than evil… I am better than that.
I was once damaged goods, because I felt a sense of self pity for what I (and my mother) endured by him. I was once angry because of the self pity for what the life I was given. Yet, over time I learned that if those things wouldn’t have happened I wouldn’t be who I am today (nor would my mother be who she is today); that which doesn’t kill you…
I am NOT a victim. I am a human being who knows I can make a positive change in this world just by using the voice I was given, even in the face of adversity, letting common sense and compassion dictate my reaction while keeping my selfishness in tact, living life by no regrets, standing up for what I believe in, fighting off those that I don’t and fearing nothing in the process. Instant reaction will generally guide down the wrong path. Thinking things through will always lead to greener pastures.
I hope my BSD finds peace with what ever troubled his soul that caused him to do the things he did while here on Earth. If there is such a thing as reincarnation I hope he comes back and rights his wrongs; I know I can’t literally do this for him, but it will always be MY guide to do what is right. As a direct result of my decision I had to walk away from those in that family who are good and it was very hard to do, but it’s for the best. It would cause entirely too much conflict & drama otherwise. We all deserve peace and some people aren’t happy unless they are destroying others peace because they, themselves, can’t live with their own guilt & regrets.
One life: Live. Laugh. Love.
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I’m excited. Why? Well I haven’t won the lottery. I didn’t buy a new car. Nothing over-the-top has happened, but something wonderful is to come. It’s called Thanksgiving.
Thanksgiving is like the prelude to Christmas. Christmas is my all time favorite, would sacrifice my birthday to have it twice a year, holiday that I get excited about every year. It’s not the concept of gifts I might receive. Not even close. It’s that feeling. That feeling that reminds me, “This is where my heart is”, “THIS is what makes me HAPPY”.
Thanksgiving reminds me that my favorite holiday is right around the corner. I’m not excited about the turkey (although it’s a bonus). It does make me happy to think of my ‘parentals’ making Grandma Buckeyes infamous stuffing for our entire extended family or how they make an extra bowl, without the onions, for my Uncle Mark.
I know my Aunt Chris will come toting several casserole dishes full of corn, green beans w/ham and anything else she feels like contributing to the “Bring all you can eat and leave overly-stuffed” dinner that will be prepared at my Aunt Debbie’s house as tradition dictates.
I’ll even get to contribute the Green Bean casserole that I am notoriously remembered for almost screwing up, completely, by not getting it done until AFTER every one ate. We’ll chock that up to a long story.
While those things make me happy the part that I love more than anything else is just… being. Being with my family. To listen them to them talk, rehash stories from long ago, to hear their laughter, to see them… happy.
We’ve been through a lot; individually and as a family. As strong as we are, we’re not always as strong as we would like to be. A broken heart is a difficult thing to mend.
There’s always a spot at the table that has a void. It’s missing Amanda. She loved family so much that she would come up with reasons just to…be. To be with us, to hear our laughter, hear our stories from long ago, etc. and the feeling was quite mutual I assure you.
The love she had for everyone was incomparable & the epitome of unconditional.
I miss it. I miss her.
I miss what HER contribution was to everything I hold near & dear. She was always much better at expressing herself than I was. She could easily blurt out, “I LOVE YOU” at random and it had a way of making you smile from the inside, out because you knew there were never any truer words spoken. She really loved THAT much and that kind of love could warm you up more than anything on the Thanksgiving menu could ever hope to.
I would be lying if I said things haven’t changed. Each of us have been changed in ways that aren’t easily translated. Losing her certainly had a domino effect. It’s hard losing someone who was such an important person in so many lives.
So it’s those moments in my Aunt Debbie’s kitchen & dining room, during Thanksgiving, and the laughter during Christmas around my Mom’s tree that I hold on to as tightly as I can.
Over time certain voices will be silenced, traditions will fade & moments will transpire into memories.
So I hold them close to my heart and find solace with the fact that at least I have now. This moment, in time, to continue to hear their laughter and make more memories that will remain in my heart for the remainder of my own life. It’s the foundation of that unconditional love that will hold you together, most, when you feel like the world is falling apart. It’s like a safety net that you know is always there should you fall.
Even if time, chaos, life or even if death gets in the way, one thing will always remain true… my love for them is unconditional & I’ll always be grateful for being fortunate enough to call them… “my family”. I am truly blessed.
When I became a Mom I realized that my life was no longer about me. I was having a great time…I ran a website called AllThingsMetal.net where my staff & I were interviewing some of the most amazing rock and metal artists and bands in the business. We had free tickets to every rock & metal concert for review purposes. We held contests to those same shows. It was a LOT of fun…!
I’m excited. Why? Well I haven’t won the lottery. I didn’t buy a new car. Nothing over-the-top has happened, but something wonderful is to come. It’s called Thanksgiving.
We’ve been through a lot; individually and as a family. As strong as we are, we’re not always as strong as we would like to be. A broken heart is a difficult thing to mend.