Posts

Communication can be a bitch.

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What I said: your kid can’t stay here because he broke my stuff, I can’t watch him, and he was hurting my animals.  What you heard: you’re kid is not safe and unloved at my house.  What I said: I’m disappointed in you (for not coming to my wedding) What you heard: I’m disappointed in you for everything you’ve ever done What you said: we could have communicated about your son if he was doing something  What I heard: we could have communicated  What I said: you weren’t there for us to communicate  What you heard: you’re an absent and bad mother.  I think past issues really affect effective communication.  There was a huge misunderstanding the day after my wedding with my closest and favorite cousin. I’m not sure we will ever speak again but I do at least want to say my piece.  You attacked me. What you said was not okay. You put the blame on me. You hurt me. You so quickly turned on me when I was the only one who’s ever had your back for all of these years. You just called to yell

Cellular Myofibroma

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  My baby had a tumor.  He had surgery to get it removed and he is okay.  It was non-cancerous. I just thought I should get all of that info out of the way because some people might just want that. Now, here is the story: Around late December 2023, Abuela noticed that Martin Julian had a bump on his chest above his right nipple.  I sent the doctor a picture late that night and said it was not something I noticed before.  We got an appointment 2-3 days later.  He then referred us to get an ultrasound and this took about two weeks to schedule.  At the appointment with our pediatrician the next day, he said that radiology said it looked like a nerve sheath tumor (which is not good).  I remember hearing him say this but it did not register until I was leaving the hospital. Even when Dr. Reed said “treat him like the normal and healthy baby he is,” it did not hit me that he was anything different.  I googled what a nerve sheath tumor is and I was reading thinks like “malignant” and “neurofi

Different Types of Parents

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You may or may not know that I had another son. I have also been in therapy and I had to stop since it got a little expensive (isnt that funny that mental health isnt taken seriously? Thats a post for another day).  During this therapy I learned a lot even though it was a short amount of time. Grieving my fathe rs, mom was emotionally...unstable and had her own things to learn and work through, my family has some foggy boundaries and we do not (always) respect them, just to name a few.  I was angry at my mom for a little bit of this time but I have done some healing and got through that pain and how her trauma has affected her.   Anyways, back to the birth of my second child.  My mom was there; not in the room since it was a c-section, but she was waiting in the lobby.  My oldest sister joined her and she reassured my mom to go.  She left after my fiancee facetimed her so she could see me. It isn’t that my mom didn’t care to see the baby I just had; it’s that she cared more that I was

Sigh of Relief

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  I quit my job this week.  It was no longer bringing me happiness and sense of fulfillment that I first had.  My district expects a lot, which I can 100% keep up with, but when my work is being questioned with absolutely no reason and everything I do is being nitpicked then I cannot stay around and just take it. I was displaced this year-both of my classrooms closed down so I was having to go back into a SDC Pre-K classroom.  Instead of giving me, a teacher who has been there 7 years, priority over placement, the district hired new teachers and with 2 and 1/2 weeks before work started, I still do not know where I am going.  I reached out to the head of special education, directors, union reps and the president, and the department of early childhood with no response.  I was disrespected after everything I did for the district and my students.  I was made to feel unimportant. and my work was not valued; I was not valued.   The school district is a business-this is what someone just tol

Dads.

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     Studies have shown negative effects on girls/women when there is paternal absence and/or disengagement while growing up. I have had abandonment and that has made me have trust issues, specifically with men. I know my past relationships have suffered from this but, I have stayed with people who are unfaithful because I crave that desire to be loved.  It is difficult because at the time, I did not know that I could go somewhere else-or rather I knew, but when you love someone with your whole heart it is really difficult to leave.  I have noticed lack of judgement in my relationships and I believe this is because I have trouble with my self-worth.  (Side bar: even to this day, I am working on it.  I tell my son "Mommy is beautiful" so that I can teach him how women should be treated and called, but I cannot say that I believe it all the time-maybe a post for another day).  I love with my whole heart, and anyone who I do love should be so lucky.  That being said, I have allo

It's Been a Minute

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 There are a lot of things on my mind and I always want to take the time to write and update and share my thoughts but then I get lazy and decide to watch TV; however, today, I am watching TV AND typing (look, my multitasking has gotten better). I am going to do my best and post some content more often-my life is very exciting so I know all of ya'll want to know what is going on 😊 I realized that I never posted an update with Mateo's Doc Band Journey; this post can be a follow up.  Honestly, Mateo did really well.  He wore it every day, even to sleep, and took it off for only an hour a day.  It was really cute and did the job it was supposed to do.  I was able to decorate it with stickers so that made it a little more playful.  His head shape did not change MUCH but it was enough to notice a difference for us and for him.  Luckily, he only needed one band, some babies need 2 or 3.   I think a lot of people hear negative things about the helmet but there really is not anything

Boundaries

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 You can only treat someone like shit for so long that; eventually they will stop fighting for you.