Being an Adult. Adulting. The thing we don't want to do.

This is pretty much how I've felt lately.

What is "adult."

I do everything one of them is supposed to do.

Laundry, dishes, changing diapers.... but still. I dance around the house like a moron and chase my daughter for over an hour to give her kisses. I like to play and have fun and do things on a whim. I don't like driving-it makes me panic. 

Like hey there, driving instructor, before you give me my test, do you mind if I take five Xanax? That doesn't sound very adult-like.

How does one "adult?" Because I'm lost here. Do I wear a suit? Do I stop watching Spongebob and going out places in my pajamas? Do I stop wanting to have fun? Do I start looking for some corporate job that makes me miserable just to prove that I can be an adultier-adult?
So yes, I'm looking for an easier job. That way when I come home to my daughter I'm not frustrated or exhausted? I love to see her and play with her and have fun. And I don't want a super serious job that will prevent me from going to school.
I guess growing up and being an adult are two separate things. Because I grew up when I had my daughter.
So did my husband. But on the inside? We're both still kids.

Being a Parent

Being a parent means waking up at 6a.m.
Being a parent means waking up at 6 a.m. to a smiling face saying "mama."

Being a parent means being scared.
Being a parent means being scared when you find a new mark, scratch, or even hear a cry.

Being a parent means letting go.
Being a parent means letting go of your old life in favor of spending a day with a laughing baby,

Being a parent means being nervous.
Being a parent means being nervous that you may not be doing everything right for the person you love most.

Being a parent means giving your heart.
Being a parent means giving your heart-your whole heart-to a person you learn new things about every day.

Being a parent means feeling stressed.
Being a parent means feeling stressed because you need to make more money, but that means more time away from your baby.

Being a parent means being in pain.
Being a parent means being in pain any time your baby cries, or gets her heart broken.

Being a parent means losing out.
Being a parent means losing out on sleep when your baby needs someone to hold her while shes sick.

Being a parent means means understanding.
Being a parent means understanding that nothing is going to work out exactly how you want it to-and that's okay.

Being a parent means being frustrated.
Being a parent means being frustrated when you have to put the toys/stroller/swing together and you can't figure it out because the directions are all really bad pictures.

Being a parent means biting your tongue.
Being a parent means biting your tongue when other people criticize your parenting methods.

Being a parent isn't easy, but I wouldn't  have it any other way.

Update

People keep asking me if I'm okay.

If after that last post, I need to recover.

To be honest: I'm fine.

I'm better than I have been in so long. I feel like this giant weight has been lifted off my chest and now I can finally be myself. I can breathe. I can dance, sing obnoxiously, and dress the way I want without thinking:

"Will someone take this the wrong way?" 
Umm.....Who cares? Seriously. If you don't like my wildly obnoxious dancing and singing, close your eyes. I want to live my life, not worry about offending your delicate sensibilities.

"Will someone want to hurt me again?" 
I'm not going to dress provocatively, but I'm also not going to hide myself because some guy who has no self-control might want to take advantage of me. I can protect myself. If I can't? I have a husband who would happily teach said perv some manners.

"Will he find me?"
I'm not going to lie, I have absolutely no idea how I would react if I saw my rapist again. But why should I have to live my life in fear of a low-life coward who does something that deplorable to an 18 year old girl? I refuse to live in fear. I refuse to be scared of him. If I ever see him again, I'll deal with it then and there.

I'm free. I don't need to worry that something bad will eventually happen. I have my friends and family, my husband and my daughter. I have a support system. I have a way to cope. So many people who read my post just showed love. Told me they were proud of how strong I'd  been going through this. I was shocked, to say the least. I didn't know I had all that love out there, waiting for me to just open up about my life.

I feel liberated. I know you guys will hold me if I fall, and I also have the confidence to know I can stand on my own two feet. It's an amazing feeling. 

I also know now that I can be a strong, confident individual that my daughter can look up too. 

More later....

Xoxo,
MamaWolf

I'll be alright.

We'll be alright.

Nightmares

To be honest, I've had nightmares my whole life.

I'm used to it. I always expect them.
I used to have my dog to get me through them. Then a boyfriend. And now my husband. Don't get me wrong. He tried to help so much....but he's only human. He wants to sleep. He wants me to heal. 

It used to be nightmares about childish things. The boogie man. Getting in trouble. After that? Scary things that had happened while I was growing up. 

Now? Now I have nightmares about  something very bad that happened to me when I was 18.

Something that haunts me constantly. 

Something I was told to keep quiet about.

Something that hurts me to the very core whenever I think about it.

I was raped.

Even writing this, I want to cry. I want to press the delete button, snuggle under my blanket, and go back to the pretend world where this never happened.

Anyone I tell is shocked. Outraged. Upset I never came forward, mad that it happened, or one person....mad that I let it happen.

I want to clarify:

I did not want to get raped. My choices following the rape were not so I could get raped. It tortures me. I wish I could change it. I wish I could change how you see it. I wish you hadn't said those thing too me about how it was my choice.

I wish you loved me enough to support me, and love me as I tried to grieve for that loss of safety I felt. The loss of childish innocence.

I wish you'd let me tell people. Let me talk about it. Allow me to move past it so it could become part of my past instead of something that pops into my head when someone says something or makes a hand gesture or laughs like that monster did.

To be fair, you may not have known how to handle the situation.  Maybe you were as scared as I was.

Regardless, I want to urge people who have been through anything like this to speak out. Be loud. Write about it. Talk about it. Do whatever you have to do to feel a little better and a little safer each day.

I'm trying. It isn't easy. But I'm trying. 

Xoxo,
Mama Wolf

Joooooobs

So Georgia is pretty nice. I love it. The air is clean, the people are friendly, and i feel at home.
Something I didn't expect? Having to get a job. That may sound naive, but hear me out.
I have a kid, an infant. My husband said that when we got to Georgia, it would be my choice whether or not I was going to be a stay at home mom. I wanted to be one, in all honesty. I enjoy watching my daughter grow. It's the best feeling in the world to see her smile at me. And I want more kids (five, at least) so I fully expected to be a mom full time. Then in comes my husband, talking about me getting a job and what I should be doing.
If he wanted me to get a job I could have, but telling me what to do? I-yi-yi. I don't know how many times I have to remind him that we are partners, and he needs to discuss-not inform. I love this guy so much, but sometimes I'd really like to strangle him.
Happy thoughts....happy thoughts.....

Anyways, I love Georgia, and I will be blogging a lot about life here as a mom, wife, and
....
...
..
.
Whatever else I decide to do.

Xoxo,
Mama Wolf;)

To Georgia

Sooooooo.....
California girl is getting ready to move to Georgia. I know no one (personally) but my husband and my baby...to say I'm nervous is an understatement. I feel like I'm going to simultaneously spill all my stomach contents on the flight attendant and cry for my sister, Hannah.

Oddly I'm nervous more about how my daughter is going to adjust to all the new people, new places, new weather....

I know supposedly babies adjust very well but I never did...what if she gets some weird baby syndrome of unhappiness because we are horribke parents who moved her across the country?

Okay...so that's unlikely..but still,  I get nervous. Being an adult and a mom and a wife and a sister and a best friend and a daughter and a granddaughter .....all of that can be exhausting. I feel exhausted just thinking about getting adjusted to all of this again. As far as I'm concerned, there will be no moving or plane rides for at least one year.

Hopefully.

Maybe.

Please?

Xoxo,
Mama Wolf

Being a mom

I really had no idea being a mom would change me so drastically. I knew life would change, obviously.  But me? I didn't have a clue as to how much one little girl could change me down to my very soul.

One thing I've noticed is my selfishness has turned into selflessness. I only worry about my daughter and my husband. Here I am, sick as a dog, and all I can think about is if he brought a blanket for the baby (he didn't ) or if he fed himself (nope).

Another thing that's changed? My opinion on places to live. I'm sure you know, I used to basically be in the "California is the best" mindset. Don't get me wrong, it's still the best....but it'snot the best for my daughter right now. Which means that for the time being, I won't be living there either. I'm moving to a place that was never on my list of places to live (mostly because bugs scare me and i don't like humidity). Everyone says the south is going to be this giant culture shock, and they're probably right....but I know I'll be fine, because my daughter will be happy.

That seems to be all that matters to me. Her happiness.

And don't get me started on the lack of sleep. But again, it doesn't matter. Because when i stumble into her room at 3 a.m. with a bottle and a bad attitude,  i see her face, and suddenly I'm happy to be there. Sometimes I'm even secretly happy my husband didn't get to her first.

I'm no longer the person I used to be. I put her before everyone. Even people i once constantly made excuses for. I guess I'm not the teenage gypsy anymore. Now I'm a mama wolf ;)