punknspikesmomma

[punknspikesmomma]

#struggling #gonnamakeit #mombie (at Londonderry, New Hampshire) https://www.instagram.com/p/B-S-4v4ghpP/?igshid=1dp9l4bm9w1ex

[punknspikesmomma]

#livingmombie #stillworking #homeschool #notbychoice #saferathome #needafilter (at Londonderry, New Hampshire) https://www.instagram.com/p/B-PG9gSg2BH/?igshid=j329drgrqd0i

[punknspikesmomma]

How the heck do homeschool parents actually do this? Seriously?! This is insane. It’s been a day, and I’m just now getting my own actual work done. #homeschool #mommyjuice #insane #dayone #stayathome #meanmommychronicles (at Londonderry, New Hampshire) https://www.instagram.com/p/B-GJh0TAiSC/?igshid=1ouekxt2aq8em

[punknspikesmomma]

#7down3togo #makingchanges #meammommychronicles #formyboys #motherfrankingbeastmom (at Londonderry, New Hampshire) https://www.instagram.com/p/B95VvSdAkQe/?igshid=1li6z65s9vik4

[punknspikesmomma]

#603brewery #knucklepuck #delicious (at 603 Beer Hall) https://www.instagram.com/p/B9w5Ygdgrr5/?igshid=8amxr2g8r1tc

[punknspikesmomma]

15 years difference almost to the day. That girl doesn’t exist any longer. She served her purpose and was the vessel to my metamorphosis. #growth #regainmylife #meanmommychronicles #530lbsnomore #strongmom https://www.instagram.com/p/B8T2t6IAY4S/?igshid=10fskidoihswx

[punknspikesmomma]

And today I begin

The past six months have been monumental for me. I watched my mom take care of my dad as he was in and out of the hospital and then entered into a rehab center. He never fully understood, or appreciated for that matter, the necessity to take care of yourself and to be active. I remember in August 2019 he was in the hospital and he was released everything seemed better not good but better. Two weeks later, he was readmitted after having some issues with swelling, water retention, and his heart. When he seemed to be stable and on track he was admitted to a rehab center to build up muscle so he could get back on track.

At that time something my mom didn’t tell me was that he hadn’t really walked in about a month. Those last couple weeks in September were eye-opening to say the least. Not knowing if everything was going to get better, my siblings and I decided to go to visit him. At that point I was genuinely concerned that this might be one of the last times my kids would get to see their papa. Everything seem to get better and was looking up and positivity was bound. He made a conscious decision to really take his life back into his control.

October was full of ups and downs. At that point I decided that I needed to do something for myself to ensure I stuck around for my boys long term. As a 42, almost 43-year-old mom of two very small children I knew I needed to start to do something. So I signed up for Planet Fitness in October 2019. I had every intention of starting immediately and life happened. 

On October 24th as I was just checking out of Walmart I got a phone call from my mom assuming it was my daily update on my dad. He got on the phone and told me loved me and the boys and he thought that might be the last conversation that we had. I could hear my mom crying in the background and I stayed strong until we have the phone. It’s right there in the middle of the exit walkway of Walmart I broke down. Later that night my mom called and said that they were going to move him to hospice because they didn’t it would be beneficial to be in the hospital any longer. The Monday before I had already booked a ticket to go down to try to help my mom. Saturday, October 26 I get a call at 2:04 PM and my mom told me was gone. The ticket I booked to go help my mom was now a ticket to comfort my mom.

I’ve had every excuse in the book as to why I couldn’t get to the gym. I have no excuses anymore. Those two little people who represent my heart beating outside of my chest need me. When I am 66 my boys will be 31 and 28. I cannot let them experience at that young of age is what I’m experiencing now at 42.

There’s a saying that a goal is nothing if you don’t put it in writing. So here it is, as of 1148 Eastern time on Friday, January 31, 2020 I am going to move forward with my life living it deliberately and with intention.

My goal for 2020 is to lose 60 pounds, increase my stamina, and build muscle. I’m asking for help. I’m asking for you to motivate me, to call me out when I haven’t made a post about my week. I’m asking you to help me hold myself accountable for my decisions. As a mom of two who works full-time and is currently going to school, I know that posting every day is not feasible. So I’m not going to set myself up to falter, but I am going to do is make a promise right now that at least once a week I will update my progress, my victories, and my upsets

[punknspikesmomma]

#gettingmylearningon #needmyhaircut #thirdclass (at Londonderry, New Hampshire) https://www.instagram.com/p/B79dPsQAe2k/?igshid=1rnnob6iz76kq

[punknspikesmomma]

Two down and eight to go. I am so excited that I decided to take this leap. I’ve always been afraid of trying new things simply because I don’t like failing. More so I didn’t like being criticized. #mytime #gettingmylearningon #betterfuture #trytostopme https://www.instagram.com/p/B7sBRIJAxIn/?igshid=pvqdnvhp4u2i

[punknspikesmomma]

#sheisperfect #youropinionisirrelevant #workit #perfectlyimperfect https://www.instagram.com/p/B7mHpfCA8Gm/?igshid=bp9iz27dm1sg

[punknspikesmomma]

Choices

I truly believe that everyone enters your life for a reason. Some are meant to stay. Some are meant to teach. And some are meant to leave. The reasons may not be a parent in the beginning. Sometimes the reasons aren’t apparent at all. But the reasons we never figure out are the most important people to enter our lives.

Nothing in life is ever easy. If it’s easy, it’s not worth it. The decisions that crush your soul are the hardest choices in life. There is no right or wrong in the decision. It’s what feels best in your heart and soul. But still with that, what feels best sometimes hurts the most.

[punknspikesmomma]

Excuses. I have a few...

I have excuses. Every single one you can possibly imagine; I have it and I have used it. For a long time, I didn't believe in myself. Well, that's not entirely true. I believed in the image I showed to others. I was a liar and a cheat and the only person I hurt, was me. I pretended to be confident and positive and worthy, but it was just a mask- a mask I wore for 30+ years. At my heaviest, and this is before digital scales were prevalent, I had to step on 2 traditional scales and the best estimate the doctor could give me was “exceeding 530lbs”. Over the next 18 months I made super simple changes and lost over 170lbs. In March of 2008, I had gastric bypass surgery. The day of surgery I weighed 359.8lbs. I almost cancelled surgery the morning of but I’m glad I didn’t. In the first year I lost another 170lbs. I was finally down to a more sensible weight. You would think that would help me become a more confident and more myself. You would think. I hated my body. I still walked like my thighs overlapped. I still sat with my chair pushed out so I would fit. I was terrified of movie theater seats and booths at restaurants. I cried every day because my skin was saggy and crinkled and disgusting to look at. At least when I was fat my skin was smooth and tight. I hated everything about the new me, except the attention I was getting when I went out. One bad habit for another, right? In June 2008, at the same weight I am now, I met the man I would marry. He looked at me like I was made of gold and treated me like a princess. In 2010, we married and moved cross country for his job. A new life, a perfect relationship and very new beginning I ever wanted. In 2011, we started IVF and I weighed 176lbs. In the first month of hormones I tipped the scales at 208lbs. Holy crap! I knew it was hormones and assumed it would eventually balance out. When I conceived for the first time, I was up to 218lbs. I lost that pregnancy but went right back the first possible opportunity and conceived my oldest on my 2-year wedding anniversary. I had been told by a bariatric nutritionist that I would gain 10-15lbs and any baby I had would be less than 6lbs at birth because of the surgery. I increased my calorie intake from 950/day to 1150 per day and ballooned up. The day I delivered my 8lb13oz son, I weighed 268lbs! So much for 10-15lbs. I was able to lose some of it over the next 8 months. I got down to 211 and that was it. I was stuck. No matter what I did it was not coming off. I didn’t sweat it because I knew I wanted at least one more baby and that would have another gain. I figured I would tackle it after the next was born. In 2014, we tried again and got pregnant on the first round of IVF. Unfortunately, that pregnancy was an ectopic. I decided that we would wait a year before trying again. IVF really takes a toll on your body and mind. We found out in September that insurance would no longer cover IVF after 1/1/15. Knowing that at 37 waiting much longer would be risky we did one last round in November. After an emotional roller coaster over the holidays we found out for sure that one of the twins was going to make it. Baby B didn’t make it past 8 weeks, but my youngest was born in August 2015. Same eating habits as my first, and I only gained 34lbs. I lost it all in the first 2 weeks. And then it all came back one-month postpartum. My OB said it was hormonal. My body realized it lost it too fast and put it right back on. What the actual F**K?!?!? In 2016 my marriage started to break down. I was a married single mom with a husband who loved me deeply but never appreciated that I had 2 full-time jobs while he traveled for work. Over the next 2 years I had a nervous breakdown, moved out once, and got a second apartment but broke the lease before I actually moved. I tried everything! Individual counseling, marriage counseling, moving into the office. Nothing helped. In November 2018 I filed for divorce. Over the next 5 months I gained 60lbs. So much for the divorce diet. I am now divorced, single mom of 2 with a co-parenting relationship with my ex-husband. Since July 1, I have lost 12lbs. Not a whole bunch but a good start. Now, I need you. I need motivation. I need to be held accountable. I need to know that my kids will still have a mom when they graduate college and get married. I want to meet my future grandkids. If you’ve done the math, I’m 42 with 2 boys 7 & 4. I have at least 30 years to go with them. Being female, over 40 the cards are stacked against me (see, another excuse) but I can’t be the only one out there trying to make my life better.

[punknspikesmomma]

Not quite launched

For a long time now I have wanted a place for real mamas (and daddies) to be able to see that their life is probably the norm. We all yell. We all secretly cry in the bathroom with a bag of chips or a candy bar. We question everything we do and say and I am here to say that you are not the only one.

Over the next few months I am collaborating with other parents to bring this blog to life. I expect to have some bumps and hiccups along the way so bare with me as I am brand new to the whole blogging/website thing. I hope we can create an awesome place based on the real life of Mean Mommies!

[punknspikesmomma]

Yep. Just another day

Did I feed the boys?

Where is B’s swim suit?

Who has that appointment today?

What was the deadline for that major work project?

How did that much poop come out of a tiny body?

 You know you have asked these questions. You have. We all have. I can’t count how many times I look at my planner every day to make sure the right kid gets to the right activity. I couldn’t tell you what we had for dinner last night. Does it really matter? No. We all have too much going on to sweat the little stuff. No, seriously. Too busy to function. Too busy to quit.

I do wish I could quit sometimes. I can own that. I’ll say it out loud. I have days where all I want is to pack my bags, get in the mobile locker room and just drive. No real destination and the only goal… SLEEP. 7 glorious hours of uninterrupted sleep. Yeah. Not gonna happen. It’s okay though. I would move mountains for my boys. I would give up everything to know they will be okay in the future. I am giving up everything. Well, almost.

I recently had a little breakdown. Not the straight jacket and institutionalization kind, but enough to make me realize… I. Need. Help. Do you know how hard it is to say that out loud? I am supposed to be Super Mom. To admit that my own kids are my kryptonite is devastating. So, I called my mommy. Moms fix everything. My mom got on a plane and flew out to me for 2 weeks. 2 weeks of help and support and adult conversation. 2 weeks of remembering that I am human and I was at a point where my boys, one specifically, had me in tears at the other boy’s check up with the pediatrician. When you are that point, you really have to give in and throw in the towel.

Towels. Oh my gosh, towels. 7 towels a week, not enough to do a load of laundry but just enough to make you go crazy watching the pile accumulate to a level that is acceptable to start a load. I’m sure you are thinking, why not do the towels with the kids’ clothes? Well, the reason is simple… the kids’ room is on one side of the house and the linen area is on the other. Yep, I don’t sort clothes by color, I sort by room.

Silly, I know but it is one of my little quirks. I go crazy when the dishwasher is loaded ineffectively but I could care less if the counters are cluttered. My house isn’t dirty because my kids’ are making memories. It’s dirty because I am sick and tired of cleaning up the same damn mess 8 times a day. For fuck’s sake, can’t they just pick one thing to use each day? Um, no. No. They. Can’t. And that’s okay. Not really, but when you are on your last leg it kind of has to be. It’s not okay.

At some point from the time I got married to today, I lost myself. My own personal being. My sense of who I am and why I do what I do. Yes, I have a job and that makes me the teacher. I am married and that makes me Jay’s wife. I have two beautiful boys who make me mom. I am a daughter, a sister, an auntie, and a friend. Somewhere, somehow, I stopped being Jenn. And that is destroying me from the inside out.

And that brings me to now. I need to find me. I am a teacher. I am Jay’s wife. I am Bennett and Simon’s mom. I am a daughter, a sister, an auntie and a friend. I am all of those, but I am still Jenn. I am still my own person with my own identity. Most importantly, I am a bad ass mom and this is the start of my Bad Ass Mom Squad.

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