7 Tips on Surviving Part-time Motherhood 

J, is a project engineer for an automation company who supplies for the automotive industry. He works long hours, and spends very little time at home, aside from the weekend that flies by so quick. J also has to travel for work to oversee installations of their projects, provide tech support, and so forth. The trips away from home varies in length. One trip can be six days, the next, a few weeks with weekends at home or a month coming home just one weekend. 

What I know of this life is glamourized by the veterans who have gone, or is going through the same situation. They put out a picture of the perfect husband who provides from never being home and a housewife dressed to the tee, baking, getting homework done, clean home and well-behaved children. 

Let me tell you though.. that shit is a lie! 

I’m confused, obviously. Conflicted between being a supportive partner who wants her guy to be happy and to achieve goals for himself, and needy partner who can’t handle motherhood alone.

It’s pretty overwhelming to have to manage everything at the home front 24/7 and have absolutely not a minute to breathe. No there isn’t family or friends to depend on. We moved 3.5 hrs away from all of that to chase the dream. It’s so hard to find the balance between being supportive and bitter because really, only one of you are working towards your goals. It’s a bit hard to do it at the same time, when you’ve got three children, two of them under two. 

I spent the last three days drained. The crying, the whining, the fighting, the never ending demands of little midgets who rule every bit of you. I mean, who’s the adult here? I’m pretty sure that’s just a title..and whatever power you think you have over three children is laughed off by their evil little minds that are so clever and manipulative. You win some, you lose some. 

But in all the chaos of part-time single parenting, here is what I learned..

1. Forget Routine and Expectations, seriously 

No, you cannot have plans and not break them. No you cannot think you’ll clean after dinner, and get it done. No you cannot expect a toddler to not get up on her high chair 20 million times, while she’s eating. No you cannot expect your 1 yr old to sit in her high chair for every meal time and have that go smoothly. No you cannot go out to grab a few things are the market, without someone having a temper tantrum or spilling something, or Pooping, or puking. There is no point to scheduling. 

2. Take-out, for food 

I swear the last time J was gone, we ate nothing but take-out.. our garbage and recycling literally filled with Chinese food boxes from chicken wings, Tupperware of noodles, and pizza boxes. That’s all we ate at every meal. You cannot cook a nice meal with two children, under two. Are you crazy? How do you even? I cooked maybe once – it was taco. 

3. Take-up drinking

For someone who stopped drinking after having her first child, I’ve become a light-weight. But I feel like if I take it up again, my tolerance will get better right away because the amount of drinking I should be doing for the amount of craziness it is to get through one day equals to about $24 — three bottles of “girls night out” pink juice with a hint of alcohol for the weak tolerance, people. 

So $24×5=$120/week, 15 bottles/week..yes I’m finally an alcoholic! Perks of motherhood 😆

4. SCREW CLEANING

Your house will never actually be clean, because who has time to do that while you’re dying from every other chore of being a lone parent? So screw it. I should start using the dishwasher. We’ve lived here a year and like every other Asian mom out there, my dishwasher is merely for drying dishes and storing large pots. Shame! 

5. Small trips

Party city, Wal-Mart and The Superstore has become our go-to place during the weeknights. I swear, these places either save me from wanting to strangle myself from the stress, or it’s heaven on days where I can find something for distraction. 

6. Video chat 

Thank God for technology. Having to ability to video chat, allows for the mixed emotions to still be shared on the table. Crying, screaming and face time, like he never left. 

7. Zero fuc*s

You are absolutely out of your mind if you thought you’d still live your normal, while the other adult is gone. Nope! Everything is chaotic. You don’t get to be a responsible adult, and get shit done. Nope! You get to be a sloppy, teenager, babysitting little siblings, who eats noodles, for two meal times and miss breakfast because you’d rather sleep some more. All rules, all schedules, everything is literally out of whack. So just live it! 
Honestly at the end of the day, you kept your kids, alive and together. They’re probably traumatized from all the demonic screaming you did all day, but the peaceful quietness that come after they close their eyes, is the perfect feeling of worth it for the sacrifices you make as individuals in an adult relationship. 

MM, out! 

Mothering without a Mom

I had spent the last few days contemplating on writing about this. A topic I rarely find easy to share about. I didn’t want to time it where it was close to Mother’s Day and ruin it for anyone else.


“I know this may not be the same story for everyone but it is something I struggle with every Mother’s Day.”


As a child, I spent a lot of time with extended families who babysat me for my Dad. Aunts, friends, and neighbours. I spent much of my childhood having to move around and never really being in one place. I was raised by my aunt (my dad’s sister-in-law), from the age of three to nine. She did end up leaving to come to Canada when I was seven. Her oldest son who was left behind, his wife and their baby would end up taking over. It would be another two years before I would leave to Canada. I was nine years old.


What I have learned from studying in the field of education with children is that, the first six years of a child’s life is the most critical for parents to invest the time in. It’s so important for their development, and what that time contributes to who they’re becoming.


I remember as a child thinking my aunt was my mom. I fought for her attention, fought with my cousins that I was no different from them. I did things to gain her love. I wanted to be hers, and I wanted to be claimed, someones. When she left, I was devastated. Like a piece of my soul chipped at, for losing someone closest to a mom. I was so excited to see her again when I came to Canada, but her view of me would change. There would be a wall between us, that separated me from her. She had her own family, I wasn’t hers. I couldn’t have her. A few years down the line, that broken line would have her betray me. I trusted her, I thought she cared about me, and she would out me like a bad story. The part of me who loved her is now gone. It still makes me sad.

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Don’t go chasing something that was never meant to be yours.


I would later on try to build bonds with my dad’s women friends, the moms of my friends, and every other moms I would later on meet. The heartbreak it came with, was so overwhelming. To constantly fail at being someones. I tried so hard to be wanted. I just wanted what everyone had. I wanted that nurturing love, that love that’s there when your world is crumbling down, when your heart is hurting so bad, that love that comes so unconditionally because, YOU ARE HERS.


All my failures at finding HER in others, eventually made me feel numb. I stopped looking. I stopped wanting that. I stopped caring. It would eventually sit in the back burner where a ton of my experiences have been sitting and burning away.


JUST LET GO…

Here I am, a mother of three. The most wonderful accomplishment in my life. The chance I never got to have for me, but now I’m giving to my three beautiful children. Every mother’s day, my heart hurts. It hurts for what I can’t fully celebrate. A day I don’t really care for. But also a day that brings me so much pride. I am a Mother!


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Ryan Jon’s Mother’s Day Message

Wherever you are…

Time has passed. I’ve mourn your loss. I wonder at times, if you’re okay. If you’re still alive. If you ever thought of me. The most painful thing for me is being angry with you. It affects me at any given moment. I wonder how it would have been if you were here. Do I have siblings? I would love that. Did you ever come looking for me? Did I mean much to you, even after you left? If you could have the chance to see me now, would you? Why did you give me away? Why didn’t you fight for me? Why wasn’t I enough? Does your heart hurt the way mine does, because we share one. If you could see me now, would you be proud? You’re a grandmother to three beautiful babies. I am everything, you never was. Sure you struggled. Sure you were alone. Why did he leave you? Does he even know about me? I don’t know anything about this part of me. I wish you had left me with something. I wish you had fought harder. I wish that the time I lost, is a struggle you battle each and every day. I am broken, I am hurt. I needed you. I wanted you. I just needed you to look back. This is something I will forever carry in my heart. As time lapse, I hope for one thing only, to let go of you and stop the heartbreak.
— Happy Mother’s Day, from the daughter you never had.–“


HAPPY MOTHERS DAY TO ALL OF YOU!

To all the moms out there who grind each and every day for their little loved ones, to the ones who have lost theirs, to the ones who are trying to have just one, to the ones who had no choice but to give theirs up, to ones doing it all alone, HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY TO EACH AND EVERYONE OF YOU. You are most loved, no matter what!


Apollo, Artemis & Cassiopeia

“I’m not always the mom you want me to be. But I will always be the mom, you need. I won’t always do things right, I won’t always give you everything you want. But I will always be here by your side, to hold your hand through anything and everything. I will always love you from the depths of my soul. For all the moments you feel defeated, know I am always cheering you on. I will always help you get up again. I will do things you won’t always understand, but know that in everything I do..I do it because I love you. I hope nothing but for you guys to grow up to be kind people. To love one another through everything and be there for each other, always. I pray for you that your life be full and blessed. I pray that your heart achieves all the things you want in this world. Even when time has gone, remember always that Mom loves you forever.”

MM, out!

How My Postpartum Depression Affects My Son

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This post is probably going to make you feel all sorts of things. It’s probably going to make you want to judge me on how cruel or mean I am as a mom. Maybe you’ll find it in your heart to understand how this is a struggle for me, something that breaks my heart on the daily, something I have felt so guilty and have cried an ocean about. But I’m going to share this with you, because I don’t think many people understand the extent or the vastness of Postpartum Depression and how it effects the actual person and the people she loves the most. 

 

My Son

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My son is eight. When I first had him, I was twenty-one. I remember the day I went into labour, and feeling afraid. Apollo being my first child, I was afraid of how it was all going to happen. If I could do it. If I was prepared to give birth to a baby. If I was prepared to have a child. All the things you’re supposed to have thought about prior, came flooding in and all I could think about was, “WHY DIDN’T I READ THOSE BABY BOOKS?!” As if I was gonna find the drugs to ease the pain from labour, or get the doctor who needs to administer the epidural out of the operation room faster, because by the time I opted for epidural I was already exhausted from the contractions.

This isn’t a birth story, so lets fast forward to after he was finally sucked out of my hoo-ha to help me get him out, because I sure was not going to have a c-section. I made sure of that, I’m pretty sure I yelled that to the doctor! “Get this baby out of my vagina, however you need to, as long as it comes out from down there and not my stomach!”

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He ended up having a fever after he came out, he didn’t even cry. Such a brave boy! I didn’t even know he was out, until my mother-in-law said, “Why are you still crying, he’s already over there!” I had felt so exhausted from it all, I couldn’t deal with how I felt about the guilt that my child ended up with a cone head because of the vacuums’ suction, or the fact that he has a fever now, because I ended up getting a fever towards the end of my delivery. How my weakness transferred to my son, and how he was going to spend the rest of his life having this bad trait from me.

Apollo Kai

“As Bright as The Sun and as Deep as The Ocean”

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The focus of this post is to share with you how my postpartum depression experience has effected Apollo the most, in comparison to his sisters who are too young to understand or to allow the effects to consume them. It isn’t to say that it hasn’t effected anyone in my house less, but I feel like my postpartum depression has effected my relationship with Apollo the most, since it began before he had any siblings.

 

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Apollo is the sweetest boy, he is kind, gentle-hearted, loving, fun, rambunctious, hyper, helpful, sensitive, and likes to keep his emotions to himself.

 

It has been super hard coping with postpartum depression, even with the medication the doctor has prescribed (It has yet to work, or not working at all), one in which I can only take when there is another adult to watch the kids because it makes me super sleepy and tired. Well I don’t ever get to use that one because I am never with another adult until around six in the evening or later. So during the day when my anxiety is high and unmanageable, I cannot take anything to help me take the edge off. We have no family and friends around to help because they are all three and a half hours away.

Before I acknowledged or even figured out something was wrong with me, I had spent the last few years feeling like I hated my son, because of the way I treated him. I was easy to anger, easy to yell, every little thing upset me. My OCD effected the way I mothered him, constantly on him for every little thing. “Pick-up your sweater!” “Stop jumping all over the place!” “Calm down!” And slowly it would make us drift.

 

“Do I not love him the same, anymore?”

 

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Slowly our relationship struggled. I was always upset with him. He was always in trouble at school from not being able to socially align his personality (he’s medically assessed to be a gifted child) with the way other children are. I was always yelling at him for everything!

I wasn’t doing any better being the way I was with him. I could recall how I would cry and stand up for him when we were having trouble at school when he was in Kindergarten. I remember I would remind him how he wasn’t the problem and that the school was. Then that shifted a bit before Arty (my second child) was born.

 

I would cry every time I lost it with him. The guilt would over power me and I would drift into this hole, that even I can’t figure a way out of. I hated myself. I hated that I wasn’t the mom I used to be. I hated that the way I loved him changed. I hate that every little thing was so hard. I hated that I could no longer connect with my son.

“I hated that I was a terrible mother!”

 

I love him more than anything in this world! This, I know! This, I feel. But it feels like however Postpartum Depression is effecting me, it’s making my love for Apollo weak. Weak enough, that I am not the mom he used to adore! I am no longer the mom that would give him the benefit of the doubt first, who would never second-guess him, who never had an ounce of distrust! I stood up for him, no matter what! I cried for him, when he was sad, and he felt like the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

 

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NOW…
It feels like, he’s drifted from me. It feels like he doesn’t have to talk to me about anything at all because I won’t listen, or I’m always too busy, or I’m always upset. He no longer sits with me and cuddles me, because he feels like I’m so cold to him. He no longer hugs me with sincerity because he feels I’ve changed. He no longer gives me kisses, because kisses mean you have a connection.

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Postpartum Depression is the worst thing I have ever experienced as a mother. It effects every bit of you. You cannot control it. You cannot just make it go away. AS MUCH, as you tell yourself to get yourself together and stop it, YOU CAN’T! It effects you emotionally and physically. It effects the people you love the most. It effects your decision making, it effects your mood, it effects your happiness, IT EFFECTS WHO YOU ARE! I don’t know how else to explain how Postpartum Depression has changed me. Or how much it has effected my family, especially my son. 

But, What I do know is this…
I will get through this. Postpartum Depression will not have me, forever. Postpartum Depression will not take me away from my son, no matter how much it tears me apart. Postpartum Depression will not break my relationship(s) to point, where I cannot get them back. I will fight with all of me, to get better and beat this thing! I will do whatever it takes to fix my relationship with my son, with so much love, that this thing cannot find a loop hole in. I will fight this! I will take my soul back!

 

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I.LOVE.YOU. MORE THAN IT SEEMS, MORE THAN IT WEIGHS, MORE THAN MY LIFE.  I WILL GET US BACK!

 

 

 

MM, out!

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