12 years later…..

We quietly celebrate the Supreme Court Decision, but more on that later….

So, first, I am SO sorry not to be keeping this blog up! I swear – I love my new job and everything that comes with it, but it’s been messing with my time. I get up early, come home, spend as much time as I can with Miss Punky and then I’m in bed shortly after she is. I haven’t seen the inside of my laptop for more than an hour at time each night, which is so not normal.

But who wouldn’t rather spend time with this face!

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So, in small news; long time readers know that we have been living with Kim’s parents for nearly a year – in July. It’s been a great time, we appreciate all they have done to help us out, but we are ready to fly out of the nest. Especially since the nest is getting more birds! LOL. Kim’s sister and boyfriend has also moved in, which is great, I know Punky loves them and they are a great help, but I personally just want our own space.

I have been saving money and putting money back, not if we could just get approved for a rental house or townhouse. Unfortunately, my credit is crappy and it isn’t really proving to be an easy task. We have had three places now slip out from underneath us. So, I’m starting to get a bit frustrated. But time will tell and my resolve will strengthen and I will do what I can to keep my spirits up.

Miss Punky helps keep a smile on my face with her many adorable antics! (Of course if you follow me on Facebook or Instagram, you have seen all these already!)

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The other reason I would love to move – is because our crazy neighbor has decided that I hit his car. Like a literal Hit and Run. About a week or so ago, I came back from the store and found him and Kim on the porch discussing how someone hit his car and left. The one side of the road is blocked off and people try to cut through all the time, have to turn around and leave the street. Apparently, I assume, one of them hit his car.

My car has a scratch along the driver side back door and he is convinced that it’s because I hit his car. Except to be even consistent with his damage, I would have been backing out to go towards the blocked off part of the road, which doesn’t even make sense. AND that scratch was there practically since I bought the car two years ago. I told him that it was an old scratch and I have pictures of my daughter hanging out by it if he wanted to see it. He didn’t seem convinced.

Remember the safe place that we do with Punky. I take pictures of her by it, constantly. This is is from APRIL. I have others from when she was old enough to walk, because we have been doing the safe place for about that long.

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Anyway, the guy basically told me that he was going to be aggressive about and he would hunt the person down. We both totally agreed with him. I’d be pissed if someone hit my car and left. I mean seriously he has a reason to be pissed. But I didn’t hit his car. Jeez. So later we saw him pacing the street (it’s blocked so not a lot of traffic) and pounding his fist in his hand. He was starting to get a little crazy looking. He was starting to freak me out a bit.

He called the cops, filed a report, which I found to be an acceptable idea.

Then the cops came to my door. We expected it. He was insistent, after seeing my scratch that I hit his car. They told us that they had an “independent witness” that saw a white car back out of our driveway, hit his car, and leave. Well, great. Of all the colors the car had to be, it had to be white. No wonder this guy was so sure.

We simply told the cops we didn’t hit his car and offered to show them my car. Which has no damage – especially none consistent with his – and the policewoman told me the scratch on the side looked old and I offered the picture I found. She basically said she would send it to investigate in the traffic department and we might get a letter.

The next day, we did wake up to a nice pile of dog shit in our walkway to the porch, in the most convenient place for a stray dog to do his business. Suspicious, yes. Provable, no.

So, I let it go – until yesterday when my insurance sent me an email regarding my “recent claim”. EXCUSE ME? What claim?

I call customer service and she says that a man sent a claim stating we hit his car. I adamantly disputed it. While I was on the phone with her, setting up the dispute, Kim called the cops, now it was harassment. She was not happy. I told the insurance woman that I would not accept this claim until there was a police report stating I had to. I didn’t hit car and I wasn’t going to take his bullying tactics. Absolutely not allowing the claim to be my responsibility or on my insurance reflecting on me.

Kim finished her talk and said they called the original police woman that came to our home to talk to her about the case. The case was already closed and we were deemed NOT AT FAULT. Thus, the claim is not necessary and could be considered insurance fraud. She said that we weren’t even suspects any longer, only witnesses, because the scratches on my car are old and the damage wasn’t consistent with his. If I was still a suspect, I would have been told immediately, because a hit and run is a criminal offense. It’s serious business, I could go to jail for shit like that!

I will be calling the insurance Monday morning with the case number and investigator’s name. The claim will not be on me. Crazy ass neighbor man. Jeez.

ANYWAY.

I’m sure since I’m in a two mom household, everyone expected this post to be about the Supreme Court ruling yesterday. Sorry to disappoint. I do want to talk about it, but I think I will make a post on it’s own. Because this happened when I turned on my Facebook all day yesterday and this morning.

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I’m overjoyed that my wife and I can be legally married. Regardless. Anyone who has been reading, know that we have had such a struggle getting my name changed, despite the LEGAL Marriage License we are in possession of. The name thing has made things pretty difficult to get through credit checks and work documents have been made more confusing. A name is a name, but when it effects life stuff; I didn’t realize it was that big of a deal until it literally hindered so many aspects of my life and goals.

We hope that this ruling will help us to put Kim’s name on Punky’s birth certificate as a second parent, we will wait and see how that pans out.

I was at work when the decision came down. I was glued to the live feed of the news and when it came through, I couldn’t do anything but cry. Cry for all the struggles washed away in an instant, cry for all the happiness that filled me to overflowing. Cry for the notion that my daughter will know that her family is just as good as anyone else’s family.

For now, I sit and read quietly some posts of dissent on the decision (mostly comments from friends of friends on friend’s posts) and more profile pictures turning rainbow and supportive memes and comments flooding my wall. It’s beautiful to know we are surrounded by such love and support. It’s been a long time.

After 12 years of love, 8 months of marriage, and three years of motherhood we are finally and truly married. And for that I will say I am grateful. Grateful to President Obama for standing up and supporting the idea. Grateful to the Supreme Court for making it possible. And grateful to all our friends and family for being so overjoyed for our little family.

I do have comments on the religious backlash.I do have comments on those people who are so against this. But I will leave that for another day. Or not at all, who knows. Because at the end of the day:

Love wins, people. Love is all that matters. Love is what the world is healed by.

Congratulations to the rest of my readers who are in the same boat as us on this decision. And thanks to ALL OF YOU who have supported and loved us these last 12 years. WE are a quiet family, we don’t make waves or commotion, but it doesn’t mean we aren’t overjoyed and elated by this news!

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Micro Monday: Home is Your Roots, Not your Destination

I went home this weekend. It was a pleasant trip, for what it was. I got to hang out with my nieces and nephews between scheduled events. I also got to get a four generation picture with the ladies of my family, which turned out pretty neat.

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I realize now why I suffer from PTSD. My therapist keeps saying that I was “traumatized” as a child. I didn’t believe her. I mean, really, the word TRAUMA is so drastic. I don’t like to use it. I don’t like to believe that I was a victim of such a drastic word. And I still believe that everyone always has someone in the world who has it worse than you.

I’m beginning to understand though, I have to own that term. I have to stand up and realize that it is a valid diagnosis.

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This is the actual street I grew up on.

Above all things I’ve been diagnosed with, the agoraphobia, the panic disorder, the anxiety – PTSD has always been the hardest for me to wrap my head around. The hardest for me to accept.

At the same time, kids don’t come out of the womb with a parenting manual. A guide to raise them perfectly. Parents – all of them – the past, the future, and all of us doing it now – we do the best we can. We do what we know or we do the opposite. In my case, I do the opposite. That should be my first clue that my therapist is right. Right?

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At the end of the day, I can only hope that I can be steadfast in building a bond with my daughter that was not like one I experienced with my own mother until I was much older. I want nothing more than to be a beacon for her, the light in the darkness, the protector of her innocence and her heart. I want to teach her in ways that don’t come easy for me. Things I didn’t understand as a kid.

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In the end, I want to have a bond with her that is unbreakable. I strive to keep my tone gentle, my words encouraging, my actions those that I can be proud of. I want to build a foundation between us that will never shatter or fray or tear. We will have our moments of strife, all kids and parents do. I am not naive in thinking that she won’t push me to my limits, she won’t do something so incredibly ridiculous I lose my cool. But I hope, beyond hope, that I will be the mom I want to be and her memories of her childhood will be just that.

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That of a child.

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