Maturity does NOT come with age....

Despite the lessons in life that I have received by being in that treacherous, abusive, and mind-numbing relationship as a young adult, I still wish to this day that he would have walked away when I said that I was pregnant. I resent him for staying. I resent him for all of the times that he hurt me. Both physically and emotionally. But most of all, I hate that HE still has the upper hand in one of the most important relationships I have. He continues to poison my relationship with my daughter. Day in and day out, his manipulations and childish bullshit behavior hinders my chance at ever earning her respect. It is utterly heartbreaking to me that she can take his words as truth without ever giving it a thought. Without ever asking ME. Everything to her is just so simple. Daddy’s right about everything because he loves me. He does fun stuff. He gives me whatever the hell I want. UGH! I’m so incredibly sick over it. 

What makes that man tick? What changed? For years after I left him… we were FRIENDS. Not just amicable, but actually FRIENDS. He would call me for advice or to vent about his fiancé. We would parent as a TEAM. Everything was done TOGETHER. And then suddenly, I was the wicked witch. I was the hated “baby mama.” Suddenly, we were no longer friends. Suddenly, I had it out for him and was apparently after his money? WTF? Ummmm…. No… last time I checked, I was NOT a gold diggin’ baby mama. I never have been and never will be. Even at my most vengeful state, I would never set out to deliberately hurt him or his family. Yet, that is exactly what he does to me. Constantly talking shit about me. Constantly making me out to be a terrible person and a terrible mother. Spreading rumors that he hears about me without a single thought to question the validity. And then getting pissed at ME for rumors being spread about me. Really? How does that even make sense? I understand he isn’t all there in the head. And I hope for his sake (and everyone elses), that he is medicated. But that doesn’t give anyone the right to treat people the way that he treats me. It is downright embarrassing. Especially since I defended him for so many years. No matter what he did to me, he was ALWAYS a good dad. But what really defines a “good dad” anyhow? This is what gets me thinking…. 

Yes. He feeds her. He clothes her. He provides her with what she needs. He keeps her safe. But tell me how sabotaging ones relationship with their other parent makes you a GOOD parent? That isn’t right. Constantly talking down about the other parent and berating them to your child is completely unnecessary. PERIOD. Trying to make yourself out to be the hero is nothing but emotionally damaging in the end. Making my own daughter hate me using the same manipulations used to control ME as a teenager and loading on the emotional baggage is NOT conducive to raising a happy, healthy, independent young woman. I despise the child that he is attempting to create. I want my daughter back. The fun loving free spirited child that *I* was proud of is still in there somewhere. Underneath this broken down and troubled surface. Somewhere in her life at her dad’s, there is someone hurting her. Maybe its not him. Maybe. But someone is making her feel unworthy and a burden. Which carries over to here. Someone is telling her that she is fat. Someone is telling her that she isn’t good enough. Someone is breaking her down and I want to hurt them for it. She continually denies it, yet she makes comments about her being unhealthy and being a fatty. And look at those rolls. Gross. Are ya kidding me?! 

This whole thing started tonight when I picked her up. I was supposed to get her back a little early today so that she could see out of town family for grandma’s 85^th birthday party. It was decided that I would get her back mid-afternoon and her dad would call me when they were done at the apple orchard.  Her dad blew me off all day. Then when I finally texted him asking if they were done with their plans, he says yes and says he call me when he gets home. I asked if instead, I could meet him somewhere sooner since the family had to head to the airport shortly. He ignored me for an hour and informed me that he was home. By that time, it was too late. The family was heading to the airport and there was nothing I could do about it. I talked with the remaining family awhile longer, cleaned up the party with them, and left. The party was over before I even texted him in the first place. I proceeded to pick Ky up and at 7:30 at night, she expected to still go to the birthday party. She was completely pissed at ME that it was over. Did not care for one second that it was her DAD’S fault that she missed it. That escalated into her being pissed at me for everything. She went on about hating the “week” because I never do anything fun. We never go outside and run around and play. I just sit on the couch on my computer. I lost it. Knowing full well that she discussed this all with her dad, I laid it all out there. AGAIN. Like I do every fucking Sunday night. I’m PREGNANT. I’m not only pregnant, but also high risk. I’m not ALLOWED to go run around outside. I’m not allowed to STAND for too long. I’m not allowed to do ANYTHING too strenuous. As for the computer? I’m WORKING. I’m trying to earn money so that SHE can have food. SHE can have clothes. SHE can have toys. Because I’m NOT a gold digger that is buttraping her dad for child support. I EARN my money. I work HARD every single day to provide her with little luxuries that she takes for granted. I’m SO tired of being the bad guy because I have to work for a living. Because I have to make dinner. Because I have to clean the kitchen or do the laundry. Because I don’t have time or energy to go sit outside and watch THEM run around. Now that I think about it, maybe I SHOULD become a gold digging baby mama. Then I wouldn’t have to work so hard. I could just sit back and collect money from HIM. Eh, unfortunately, I have too much respect for myself to do such a thing. 

Regardless of how I’m portrayed to everyone, I’m not that person. I work SO hard. I bust my ass to provide for my children. To teach them right from wrong. To teach them respect and responsibility. When my kids and I get home at night, its HOMEWORK. Its dinner. Its showers. Its cleaning up rooms. Its not fun time because you need to EARN fun time. And yes, I’m going to sit on the couch and attempt not going into labor early. I’m going to work and get those extra hours so that my daughter can have gogurts in her lunches. So I can buy my children fresh fruits and vegetables. So I can make REAL dinners instead of ramen every night. I’m going to work those extra hours to try to get some extra money to buy the brand of clothes that all the other kids are wearing, despite the fact that they cost three times as much.  I’m going to make them clean their rooms so that they don’t have the terrible habits that I have. They are not going to spend their hours playing video games or eating pure sugar.  I hate that all these things make me a bad parent in her eyes. I hate that her dad makes me out to be such a terrible person. I hate that she can’t see the normalcy that is there for everyone else because its not HER normal. If he wasn’t in the picture, she wouldn’t leave every weekend. She wouldn’t go and live in this “other world” for two days. She wouldn’t have such a distorted sense of reality. She wouldn’t have to be retrained every Sunday. I wouldn’t have to deal with having a CHILD for an ex. This would be her family 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. When I gave him the option of walking away or being a part of his child’s life, I wish he would have walked away. I could have done this better on my own. 

See... the thing about MN winters is....

I MOTHERFUCKING HATE THEM. I hate the cold, I hate the snow, I hate the idiot drivers, I hate that I can't wear dresses and skirts every day, I hate it all. Sure... It looks pretty sometimes. But then I remember that I have to drive in that shit.

The last month of "winter" has been just killer. I have loved every second. Skirts, dresses, hoodies, LOVE LOVE LOVE. Then Mother Nature slapped our shit silly and brought us back to reality. Single digit temps, wind chills, and snow. That BITCH. Here is where the problem lies. I GET BORED. I start to feel trapped and suffocated. Some call it seasonal depression, some say I need more vitamin D, some say I need to STFU because I was born and raised here and its always been this way. Well, whatever. You're all right to a certain extent. I know this. So I go tanning here and there, take vitamin D supplements, try to see past the slippery roads and cold temps. But in all reality... All I REALLY wanna do is go out, make really bad decisions, and pretend I'm a careless young adult. Which CLEARLY... I am not. Nor have I really ever legitimately had the opportunity to be. I did it anyway, yeah. But look where that got me. In a shit ton of trouble and had me defending myself to the people I love most. Hence the semi-sober stint. But again, where's the fun in that. I have yet to find the copacetic balance that keeps me happy inside... but I'm working on it. Starting with this Friday. Celebrate my bday like I never have. Been over 21 for several years now and have never gone OUT. Always end up at OC where I stay all night. Not this year bitches. I'm goin all in. I turn 27 on Wed. I am having a REALLY hard time with this. It's all in my head and I know that because my mom had one majorly rough birthday in her late twenties and its been in the back of my mind ever since. Thing is, I'm in the same place that she was. Latter part of my twenties, but already settled down, kids, responsibilities, etc. And have been since I was a teenager. Now don't get me wrong... I wouldn't trade my kids or my husband for ANYTHING. Period. But there still is that little piece of me that still hasn't grown up. I keep it in a little box deep inside my soul. Very rarely has it made an appearance and very few have seen it. In my mind... this little piece is the essence of my entire being. Its essentially the REAL ME. It's characteristics are what keep me "young" and vibrant. Happy and giggly. Silly and funny. But this piece can be destructive. Though it feels extremely liberating to let it out once in awhile, it has some consequences that I'm not prepared to face. So this time of year, when that little box starts rattling and shaking, I depend on certain things to keep me grounded. And by certain things, I mean certain people that have seen this piece and no how to handle it and let me just be stupid immature little me. The people that have had my back and supported me unbiasedly and unconditionally. That I have intentionally kept separate from my everyday life so that I can be that stupid girl and won't be judged or discriminated against. Where I am not Mom, Wife, Sister, Daughter, Co-worker, etc. I'm just Panda. Stupid silly whiny childish giggly dorky panda. To the fullest. Being around these people brings me back to reality peacefully. Not be means of bad decisions, or by reaching through the end of a bottle. Just by letting me be me.

The kicker this year though... my favorite of these people is off the RADAR. :/

So here I sit. Forcibly. Trying to keep my shit together. Fighting and struggling to keep the lock on that box. Wishing that I had a time machine to go back to when I was 14. Just for a little while, here and there, when I feel like being a kid again. Feel like doing stupid shit. Feel what its like to not have a care in the world again. But always able to come back to the family and friends that love me now.

Your art sucks bro

Ok... so the first of my many rants for today begins with the subject of respect. Respect the people you care about and more importantly, respect what the people you care about respects. Make sense? Example: I respect my sisters. I respect that my sister Kaeti listens to VERY different music than me. But because I respect HER, I also respect HER likes, HER tastes, etc. Now lets get to the root of this post. Obviously, loosely basing on respect, I have to explain where this is all going. It has recently been brought to my attention that some friends/family members of mine have been going to another tattoo shop to get work done. That's cool. That's fine... to each their own. I make it a point to never be the one that pushes a shop on someone. I never put down other people's shops. I never knock anyone else's work or design. Just because it doesn't appeal to ME, doesn't mean it isn't EXACTLY what they wanted out of a tattoo. Everyone's taste is different. I love MY shop because at Fluid, you are a part of a family. You are more than just a paying customer. You don't walk in there and pick something off of a wall to get tattooed on you. They are a completely custom shop. I love that. The guys are welcoming and friendly, they give you quality work. If someone asks me where I go, I tell them. If someone is looking for an artist or a shop, I refer them. If someone is into tattoos but isn't loyal to one artist or shop, I tell them to check out Fluid. Get it? Good. Ok... so where in the fuck does someone get off knocking MY shop. Telling people bullshit about MY shop. Apparently also going on tattoo sites and ripping on MY shop. Just because you got ONE tattoo there, that you later regret, and NOT because of the work involved or the outcome of the tattoo, but because the idea itself was stupid, immature, and impulsive. That is YOUR bad. Telling people that they shouldn't go there because YOU made a mistake is completely inappropriate. Clearly you don't know how the tattoo industry works because... that's right... You are FUCKING 18 years old. It is an art form. It is someone's livelihood. Unfortunately for you, the work that comes out of my shop is STELLAR. Award winning and amazing. The art speaks for itself. Maybe not your 18th birthday tattoo.... but who's fault is that. You are the one that has to ok the art before its tattooed on you. Just sayin. I don't have to worry about your negative remarks hindering the business that comes our way. Word travels. Both positive and negative, but good always prevails over bad. With this amount of talent and ability, I don't have to worry about that. Along those same lines, I would like to say that as an employee of a tattoo shop, I DO have a right to be critical of other people's work to a certain extent. I have seen many tattoos come in the shop with poor line work, imbalanced shading, inadequate color, etc. I have been around the industry long enough to know what is considered good tattoo work not just a good design and awesome artistic ability. Which brings us back to the respect factor... I may have a personal opinion about your shop because of a past experience with an artist that had nothing to do with tattooing.... but that doesn't give me the right to shit talk. So I don't. I have every right to have my own opinion about something. But that doesn't allow me to force my opinion on others. That is childish and irresponsible. Confused on how this all ties together? Let me break it down for you. Back to RESPECT. You are recruiting people that have been tattooed by my shop to go to yours based on lies and intimidation. That is disrespectful. You are completely gung-ho about getting clients for YOUR new shop which is awesome. Its good. Rep your shop. Rep your artist. As I do the same for mine. But don't knock someone else's art and someone else's choices and degrade them so that they follow you. You know what they call that nowadays? Bullying. You know what I call bullying? Bullshit. Grow the fuck up and have some fucking respect. You keep going to that shop which I will not name. You keep coating your body with tattoos to make you feel better about yourself. You just go ahead and keep putting other people down and see how far it gets you in life. Not far sweetheart. Not far. I can promise that. Oh, and not to call out your boys or anything... But there's a name for people like you at our shop... Shop whore. The ones that obsessively come in and think that they are part of the crew, have a major boner for one or more of the artists, and keep getting shit done just to be part of it all. Trust me, we have many many laughs when people like you come in, get ink or random shit pierced, and FINALLY LEAVE. Its hilarious. So you keep on going in there. Feeling like a rockstar, getting shit done, talking shit, and acting all superior.

But by the way... your art sucks bro.