Child support is a good thing. It helps children maintain a decent lifestyle when paid and calculated properly. For the last four years the amount of child support I received for my four children was minimal. In fact it was so minimal, that I got more for my son with another man than I did for our four children combined. However, I'm not the one that should be ashamed of that.
Two weeks ago, I was informed that their father was walking away. I was and still would be completely fine with this. I have always picked up the slack and I always will. The children are not obligations, but rather choices. They didn't get to pick me for a mother. They got what they got, so I want to the best one possible. Upon learning in child support court that he would get a visitation credit in child support court for seeing them, he decided he does "want to" see them even more than he had been. However, he still doesn't want his weeknight....no surprise he doesn't get credit for that.
For him the numbers that matter are the ones in his bank account. I also have a bank account. The bills get paid. We live another day. The amount that got us there isn't important.
The numbers that matter for me are these:
9-18-03, 5-25-06, 6-11-07 & 10-14-10 my children's birthdays in order. Also 11, 8, 8, 7 & 4, my children's ages. These numbers have been written incorrectly on five court documents from him since our divorce.
9.4 Sydney's personal best floor routine score and got her her first first place in a gymnastics meet. And 8.6 Skye's first first at her second ever meet on vault.
25 the number of meals Chris knows how to cook well.
3 the number of best friends Manda has at school, and 1 the number of boyfriends she's had since kindergarten.
4 Austin's favorite number and his age. He points to it everywhere we go.
5 the minimum number of times the kids eat at my house in a day. 2 the number of times they are allowed to eat per day at their dad's.
$1 the amount of food that was bought for each of them at McDonald's by their dad. $80 the amount of money he spent on a brand new coat for himself the same night. Free the amount of money I spent on a hand me down winter coat for myself from a friend.
$129 the amount of money I need to buy Chris the bike he really wants. My bike is invisible....being able to ride with them instead of jogging isn't as important as them having bikes.
7 the amount of outfits in my closet that currently fit me and do not have stains. 32 the number of outfits each of my children currently have for each season.
9 months the length of time we have been without a dryer bc the money I saved for a new one went to repair the van and my girls aren't giving up gymnastics.
3 the number of medicines Skye is on to maintain her asthma. 29 the age her dad started smoking knowing he had an asthmatic child.
0 the number of jobs he has to support the children. $10 the amount of money the children made selling their personal belongs door to door without supervision in a strange city he took from them. And lastly 6, the number of times the school has called dcs on him.
Oh and 6 the number of months I didn't expose any of this to the world.
See the difference between me and him as my kids numbers come first. Their successes, their meals, their clothes, the amount of days they live without great of being treated bio better than animals....those are my concerns. I shouldn't have to concern myself with their safety and threats from the woman he chose over them, but I do. I have to. No one else is.
Saturday, April 25, 2015
Monday, April 20, 2015
How my daughter's school accidentally hurt her body image
It's that time of year again, you know it well. It's the one when women try on 23 bathing suits in a vain attempt to make their fat look less fat, or at least camouflage it like a hunter hunting a deer. In my case it's comparable to the feeling of trying to hide a whale on the beach. Either way, kids at my children's school also go swimming at the high school for two weeks during third grade.
I was very blessed with two beautiful third grade twin daughters. They say fraternal twins are no more alike than normal sisters. I disagree. Mine are less alike than normal sisters. Manda is 51 minutes older and she never lets anyone forget that. She was also born with a large birthmark that looks oddly like her sisters foot that she never wants anyone to see, so she has always preferred a one piece suit. So her time to swim came, and went. She excelled and was invited to swim team, no big deal.
Then there was Sydney. Sydney is not just an 8 year old. She thinks beyond her years, highly inquisitive, very mature. She is also an xcel silver level gymnast who has never had a problem putting on a leotard and practicing a couple times a week, or competing in front of a crowd. Since she's been potty trained, my athletic daughter has worn a bikini to swim, or just wear at home because, well, I let her. She is toned with abs that I'm jealous of and muscles in her legs many adults aspire to. Never once have I dwelled on creepy old men that may potentially view her in unsavory fashion. She's eight. She's cute. Most importantly she's self confident.
So when my daughter brought home the swimming paper informing me that the cute sparkling Justice bikini she proudly bought last year with her birthday money was unacceptable attire, of course she asked why.
A million and twenty answers flashed before my eyes, but I failed to deem these acceptable. If I tell her about horny old men, she may lose trust in her teacher. If I tell her about third grade boys that don't pull her hair because she's too busy kicking their butts art athletics, her feelings may be hurt. If I tell her some of the chubby girls may get made fun of, she'll think be chubby is a reason to make fun of someone. So my answer was instantly, "I don't know."
She then informed me that they only make rules for a reason and there had to be one. I knew I was going to have to pick one. So I told her that maybe some girls would be nervous about wearing a bikini in front of other kids. I was so unprepared for her response. "That's silly mom. Why would anyone be nervous?" So of course it lead to the inevitable conversation about body image I had been avoiding....the one about unwanted body fat....the one about people that have no right to, judging you anyways.
Instantly, I saw my daughter, my previously innocent confident girl's blue eyes go dark. And inn a moment of sheer utter panic she dispersed. She emerged in her bikini of green and blue glitter and began pointing helplessly at non-existent sentiments of fat. I watched her jump up and down looking helplessly for anything that potentially slightly jiggled. Eventually, she found a tiny piece of extra skin on her upper thigh she could barely pinch. She began crying about that last soda she drank and something ridiculous about going on a diet.
While I was tying to be supportive (by not laughing) I hugged her and reassured her that she was still thin and beautiful and that if she could wear her bikini everyone would be jealous. Of course, she took it as they'd be jealous she bought her bikini at Justice, which lead to a whole other conversation later.
For the last week, I've watched my little princess focus on the mirror a lot more. I watched as she handed her favorite leotard to get sister in fear it made her look fat. I'm aware there are parents out there that are going to give me total backlash over not protecting my child from potential beach predators, yada, yada.
But plain and simple, we shouldn't be shattering self esteem. We shouldn't be compromising self-confidence out of fear. As parents, we have enough worries. Finances, work, eating right, all of our children's activities that the last thing we should have to address is explaining to our children that something may be wrong with their bodies. Unless a bikini is going to make my daughter drown, let her wear it. Let her be confident. Let her be little. Let her be amazing.
I was very blessed with two beautiful third grade twin daughters. They say fraternal twins are no more alike than normal sisters. I disagree. Mine are less alike than normal sisters. Manda is 51 minutes older and she never lets anyone forget that. She was also born with a large birthmark that looks oddly like her sisters foot that she never wants anyone to see, so she has always preferred a one piece suit. So her time to swim came, and went. She excelled and was invited to swim team, no big deal.
Then there was Sydney. Sydney is not just an 8 year old. She thinks beyond her years, highly inquisitive, very mature. She is also an xcel silver level gymnast who has never had a problem putting on a leotard and practicing a couple times a week, or competing in front of a crowd. Since she's been potty trained, my athletic daughter has worn a bikini to swim, or just wear at home because, well, I let her. She is toned with abs that I'm jealous of and muscles in her legs many adults aspire to. Never once have I dwelled on creepy old men that may potentially view her in unsavory fashion. She's eight. She's cute. Most importantly she's self confident.
So when my daughter brought home the swimming paper informing me that the cute sparkling Justice bikini she proudly bought last year with her birthday money was unacceptable attire, of course she asked why.
A million and twenty answers flashed before my eyes, but I failed to deem these acceptable. If I tell her about horny old men, she may lose trust in her teacher. If I tell her about third grade boys that don't pull her hair because she's too busy kicking their butts art athletics, her feelings may be hurt. If I tell her some of the chubby girls may get made fun of, she'll think be chubby is a reason to make fun of someone. So my answer was instantly, "I don't know."
She then informed me that they only make rules for a reason and there had to be one. I knew I was going to have to pick one. So I told her that maybe some girls would be nervous about wearing a bikini in front of other kids. I was so unprepared for her response. "That's silly mom. Why would anyone be nervous?" So of course it lead to the inevitable conversation about body image I had been avoiding....the one about unwanted body fat....the one about people that have no right to, judging you anyways.
Instantly, I saw my daughter, my previously innocent confident girl's blue eyes go dark. And inn a moment of sheer utter panic she dispersed. She emerged in her bikini of green and blue glitter and began pointing helplessly at non-existent sentiments of fat. I watched her jump up and down looking helplessly for anything that potentially slightly jiggled. Eventually, she found a tiny piece of extra skin on her upper thigh she could barely pinch. She began crying about that last soda she drank and something ridiculous about going on a diet.
While I was tying to be supportive (by not laughing) I hugged her and reassured her that she was still thin and beautiful and that if she could wear her bikini everyone would be jealous. Of course, she took it as they'd be jealous she bought her bikini at Justice, which lead to a whole other conversation later.
For the last week, I've watched my little princess focus on the mirror a lot more. I watched as she handed her favorite leotard to get sister in fear it made her look fat. I'm aware there are parents out there that are going to give me total backlash over not protecting my child from potential beach predators, yada, yada.
But plain and simple, we shouldn't be shattering self esteem. We shouldn't be compromising self-confidence out of fear. As parents, we have enough worries. Finances, work, eating right, all of our children's activities that the last thing we should have to address is explaining to our children that something may be wrong with their bodies. Unless a bikini is going to make my daughter drown, let her wear it. Let her be confident. Let her be little. Let her be amazing.
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