This Is Hard...

I mainly use social media as an outlet for my sense-of-humor.  Unlike most, I do want to see pictures of your children and spectacular vacations.  I do not want to see that you are a bigot.  Controversy, and the very thought of being attacked for my point-of-view, terrifies me.  I do not want to offend anyone regardless of the fact many offend me (and poor Marcus gets to hear all about it when he comes home).  For me, social media is not the time or place for arguments and such anonymous, typed-out, meme-producing vitriol takes away from the oftentimes very serious subject matter.  Sadly, that subject matter is even more oftentimes about the senseless loss of life.

I cannot explain why the 49 people who lost their lives at a nightclub in Orlando has affected me so deeply, especially given the number of daily terrorist attacks worldwide.  When the Paris attacks happened I was saddened and wanted to write but didn't.  When the San Bernardino shootings occurred I wanted to speak-out but didn't.  I remember watching social media and was astounded at the divisiveness events such as those created.  I wanted it to be known that I am a woman, liberal, gun-owning, tax-paying, college educated, mother, anti-feminist, hard-working, bra-burning, welfare/social services proponent, breast feeding advocate, Christian, believer of Evolution Theory, I-don't-care-who-uses-the-restroom-stall-next-to-me, Climate Change activist, and lover of ALL peoples (despite differences) but I was too scared to say it.

I have quite a few family and friends who are part of the LGBQT community and maybe that is why the Orlando shootings have hurt so deeply.  No matter your sexuality, the weekend is a time for rest and relaxation.  At one point for me, that meant bars and nightclubs.  Personally, I enjoyed the gay bars the most because that was where I could go and dance and not be harassed.  I also secretly relished the glowing admiration of my shoes or nails by the regular patrons.  It was also a sign of a potential significant other's character if he could go to a gay bar and not feel uncomfortable.

I've been reading some of the thoughts my more tolerant social media friends have had to say on the subject of the Orlando murders and one thing has occurred to me:  To not voice an opinion is to validate the hatred.  To not voice an opinion is to sit back and indirectly teach my children that hatred is tolerable.  I cannot stand for it any longer.

So, here is where I do stand, and here is where you can take issue:  I do not care if you are a law-abiding gun-owner because I am one as well (and a liberal to boot, imagine that?!).  I do not care if you are afraid of your right to the Second Amendment being taken away because it never will be.  I do not care if you find homosexuality to be a sin because "...love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love..." (Lin-Manuel Miranda, 2016).  I do not care if you believe all Muslims are evil because they are not.

I do care about stopping these atrocities and getting guns out of the hands of those who want to kill me or anyone I love.  I do care that with inactivity this will directly affect me one day and I will lose a loved one.  I do care that my FUCKING (sorry, mamma bear coming out) FOUR YEAR OLD participates in ACTIVE SHOOTER drills at her school.  I do care that your supposed Christian beliefs hold you to certain truths but not to all.  Finally, I do care that I am raising children who may one day be the difference.  I pray that they find their passion and become genuine, kind, and compassionate unlike so many.

Unlike most women, I do not believe that becoming a mother has made me a better person.  I scream, I curse, I experience intense feelings of rage, and I fall into depressions.  I feel guilty every waking moment that I'm not being the person I should be for my children.  I don't do arts and crafts with them, I don't bake or cook with them, I hardly teach them anything at all.

Lately, a good day has been waking up, feeding them at least twice a day, and enforcing naptime with an iron fist.  Neither of my girls knows what its like not to have a mommy who yells and screams at them; who constantly threatens with swats on the bottom, time-outs, or the removal of a beloved item.

I've come to realize the oldest is scared of me.  She had a potty accident at the store one evening and told her dad not to tell mommy.  My anger and inability to control it has clearly affected her and I don't know how to change it.  When every move as a mother is imparted as a lesson for the children it occurs to me that I'm failing miserably as my children have learned nothing but fear and how to scream at each other rather than talking calmly when conflict arises.

This is not to say that my love for my children isn't strong.  I know that somehow, despite my failures, they do know I love them and we share tender moments sporadically through the day.  I meet their needs as best I can.  I just don't know if my best is good enough. 

Issues

I really do not like being a stay-at-home mom.  I dislike it greatly.  I can go so far as to say that I hate it.  I hate that day in and day out is spent changing diapers, constantly feeding bottomless pits, dealing with tantrums, and feeling like a failure when I inevitably lose my cool.  How am I supposed to be raising stellar members of society when I can barely keep it together to act as the model of one?  I can barely look at the girls sometimes because I'm either unhappy with them or severely unhappy with myself as their mother.

I hate that we live as far away from family and friends as we do.  When I'm feeling like I do today I have no one to call on to come give me a break.  I haven't made any friends down here because I just don't have it in me.

I hate that I no longer have my own source of income and have to rely on my husband to support the family.  Somewhere, in the efforts of women to become so equal amongst men we have done ourselves a huge disservice because it seems no matter which direction a woman chooses when it comes to her family life it's never good enough.  If you're a working mom you're not good enough because you aren't raising your babies and instead relying on day care and other types of care to raise your children.  If you're a stay-at-home mom you're not good enough because women should be equal in the work force and if men can work and have families so can women.  For me personally, this feminist bullsh*t has created a lot of inner turmoil and I can't imagine I'm the only one.

I am stressed, tired, and unhappy.  Something has to give.

Honesty

For those who are not aware we are moving to Jacksonville, North Carolina in just a few short weeks.  Marcus accepted a job with the USMC and so the Tepaske Tribe is uprooting and moving down south.  I always said I never wanted to move north of the Mason-Dixon Line (for no real reason other than it gets progressively colder and colder the farther north you get) and so I guess in that regards this is my wish come true.  Except, it isn't.  Now that we are moving I realize how much I do not want to move.  The whole thought is making me miserable.  It's not the only thing making me miserable but it's certainly at the top of the list.

Almost in line with the move and what's making me miserable is my everyday life.  I'm going to be perfectly honest here:  I have serious doubts on a daily basis that I'm a. cut-out to be a mom and, b. cut-out to be a stay-at-home mom.  Every day I wake-up and blink and it's the end of the day.  I don't know what I've done except both kids are fed and semi-clean.  That's not to say that everyone made it through the day without one or two breakdowns (myself included) but at least we're all safe.  Short of just making it through the day I cannot even begin to fathom trying to fit more than eating, pooping, and sleeping into the day.  As I type this I begin to realize I've fallen into some sort of depression.  Maybe I didn't escape the baby blues with JoJo like I thought I had and maybe it's just now beginning to rear it's ugly head. 

I'm sure there are a lot of things contributing to this feeling of depression and almost constantly feeling like on the verge of tears.  The upcoming move, taking on the role of stay-at-home mom, and having a new baby are just the tip of the icerberg.  As callous as this may sound I realized today that I have an inkling of understanding for women who abandon their families.  As a woman we're expected to change and become different people for our families and everyone else gets to stay the same.  It's an expectation placed on us by others as well as ourselves and unless you're filthy rich and can hire someone to take your place as mother and wife then you're stuck feeling like just a portion of the person you used to be.  I used to be fun and witty and enjoyed actually going out and doing things.  Now, I feel like I struggle to identify with others and the thought of having to actually get dressed to leave the house is daunting.  Maybe I'll feel better as we all settle into our new roles in North Carolina but right now, at this exact moment, I'm not looking forward to the future.