Depression Tries But Doesn’t Conquer

Having children, is the greatest adventure I’ve ever been on. It’s hard work and it’s not always sun shiny, but it is the greatest most amazing thing I’ve ever been through. 

Despite that, some days I struggle. I struggle to get out of bed. I struggle to make breakfast and put my kiddo on the bus. Sometimes I want to go back to bed and wake up tomorrow. 

Depression has a hold of me. It’s an everyday battle. I don’t always have a bad day. Sometimes there is literally nothing going on that makes me feel this way. It just happens. It consumes me. It makes my brain go from “bad ass mom”, to “I don’t think I can do this”. It’s hard. 

I call everyone in my phone those days. Most of the time two or three will answer and we will have that ten minute conversation until I’m rambling about nothing. Then it’s on to their everyday lives. What they don’t know, is that sometimes it’s a literal cry for help. 

I need something to take my mind off the irrational fears and thoughts that make me spiral. I can’t depend on everyone to know what’s going on. So I pretend to talk about things that don’t really matter to stay straight. 

Being a parent is hard. Being a wife is hard. Hell, being a person in 2017 is hard. Sometimes I forget that. I think, there is something wrong with me. He to be right? No. I’m just a little different. Different is ok. Pull yourself up from the darkness and move forward. As long as I don’t let what’s different, become the thing that defines me. It won’t. I refuse to let it. 

I’m a good mom. I’m an ok-ish cook. I can sing. I’m a brilliant crafter. I give good advice. I am an excellent drinking buddy. I am more than darkness. 

 Stay positive. This is one bad day, not a bad life. 

-Kuddos and Kiddos 
photo credit: FootMassagez <a href=”″>Woman Looking at Sea While Sitting on Beach – Credits to</a&gt; via <a href=””>photopin</a&gt; <a href=””>(license)</a&gt;

Don’t Leave Before you Clean!

So as parents we are supposed to teach our kiddos how to be decent human beings. We start young with how not to color on tables and walls. Then we graduate to things like don’t chew with your mouth open, and clean up your mess. 
One thing I’ve seen that drives me nuts is when my kiddos go to someone’s house and makes a mess. Being a mom of tiny humans has given me a certain level of knowledge in the cleaning up messes department. And it’s not my fav. I also can’t even deal with other kids in my house making messes, IF their parents leave without making them clean it up. 

Let me elaborate. 

1. This is my family’s home. The location of my happiness, my bubble, my mess. MINE. Not yours. MINE. So.. when I spend all day cleaning up after my own kiddos and their room is all shiny and clean, I’m not at all interested in cleaning up all the toys left behind from your kiddos hanging out. I have enough messes to clean. That means, that if the toy box wasn’t upside down and the toys weren’t spilled out all over when you got here… Then it’s good mom etiquette to make sure it isn’t when you leave. 

2. My kids will HAVE to clean up messes at your house. Period. They destroy it, they clean it. It’s all about respecting someone else’s property. Not to mention as I have before, I know what it’s like to clean all day. Everyday. I’m pretty sure that I will be cleaning for all of eternity.  Also sure I didn’t sign up for that on paper anywhere… Unless they gave me paperwork during labor I didn’t read, in which case read your stuff ladies. Ha. But seriously, I want my kids to respect other people’s property. I want them to go to other people’s houses as a grown up and help clean dishes after dinner. I want them to not break their friends stuff. I want them to just be decent human beings. 

3. It’s not fair.  Pretty sure if I came to your house and started throwing your stuff around the living room and then bounced you’d be pretty upset. The same goes for ours kiddos. My daughter takes 7 days and 7 nights to clean her room. I can’t ask her to clean a mess she had help making. Well I could but that’s not really fair… Or is it? No. No. See now I’m giving myself ideas. If I ask my daughter to clean her room after several children have been in there making a mess, it will lead to disaster. I will definitely end up yelling. So again. Not fair. 

4. I also understand that toddlers won’t clean up their mess. That’s where you come in. Being a mom means having to clean up their mess. Even if that means at my house. Same goes for me. Like I mentioned before it’s good mom etiquette. 

It’s all for a good cause I swear. I want my children to be responsible for their actions. I want them to grow into decent human beings. If this is only one step in the right direction… Then let’s start here. 

Hugs! – Kuddos and Kiddos

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photo credit: Dean Terry <a href=”″>Cleaning Day?</a> via <a href=””>photopin</a&gt; <a href=””>(license)</a&gt;

Sure I sit all day.. that’s what SAHM’s do. 

So there a lot of hype about being a stay at home mom. We are over worked, under paid, and sometimes we give off the impression that we really don’t do a whole lot of nothing. So I decided to share my day with everyone. Hope we can clear up some of the confusion. (So for this post I’ve decided to use “boom”  and “bang” for the girls names. It will be easier to keep them apart. Boom is my 6 year old. Bang is my 2 year. Fitting isn’t it? Haha)

7:35am –  woke up getting smacked in the forehead by Bang. “Mama!” Yes I’m up. It has to be like 9 right? Nope. 7:30. Fantastic. 

7:45 am – Changed Bang’s diaper. Cleaned up 57 baby wipes off the floor that she pulled out of the package. Took pen out of her hand. Where did that even come from? Ugh. Put Bang on potty. Nothing. 

8:15 am – Boom is up. And she’s STARVING. Here comes breakfast… Eggos count as breakfast right? Got toaster out. Dropped butter in the floor. Cleaned up butter. Put waffles in toaster. I need caffeine.

8:24am – Sitting down to eat waffles. Boom needs a drink. Getting up to get drink. Bang dropped her plate in the floor. Need to make more waffles. Gave her my waffles. Gave up making me waffles. Started dishes. Put Bang back on potty. Nothing. New diaper. 

9:15 am – Cleaned up Tupperware lids that Bang got out and threw in the floor. Turned on the tv for the girls. Started laundry. Folded clean laundry. Took pen away from Bang. Where does she keep getting those?! Cleaned ink off the table and couch with hairspray. Put Bang on potty. Still nothing. Finished folding laundry and put away clothes. Got Bang and Boom dressed. Cleaned toothpaste off the wall in bathroom.. Added hairspray to shopping list. Sat down. Dog needs to go out. Let the dog out. Let the dogs in. Check on Bang. Put clothes back into her dresser drawers she pulled out. Made her bed. Put Bang on Potty, again nothing. 

11:30 am – Made lunch. Sat down to eat. I actually sat the whole time. About twenty mins. This must be where the all day comes from? 

Noon – Cleaned up lunch mess. Got Boom a drink. Wiped up milk in floor. Mopped kitchen floor. Got Bang another drink.  While in the fridge, Bang knocked over the mop bucket. Sigh.  Cleaned up mop water with towels. Put Bang on Potty. NOTHING. Ugh. 

1pm – Naptime. Put Bang in bed. Got her a drink. Changed her diaper. Left the room. Turned on the tv. Sat down. Here comes Bang. Take Bang back in her room. Lay down next to her. Getting kicked in the head. She refuses to nap. Get up get her another drink. She’s back in the floor playing with toys. Give up on nap. 

2:30pm – Get crayons out for the girls. Set them up at the table. Do more laundry. Clean 50 crayons off the floor. Wipe crayon off the table. Hang up artwork. Wipe up spilled drink. Take pen away from Bang. Throw stinking pen in trash can. Clean up ink of wall and table. Let the dogs back out. Put Bang on the potty. You know what happens.. Start prepping for dinner.

3:30pm – Start peeling potatoes. Break up a fight between Bang and Boom. Put Boom in time out for hitting her sister. Play in the floor with Bang and some blocks. Sneak away to finish potatoes. Let Boom out of time out. Listen to a very nice song Boom wrote in her head while in timeout.  Start prepping everything else. What does she have now? Toilet paper. Fantastic. Clean up toilet paper all over the house. Take shoe out of dogs mouth. Scold dog. Scold Boom for not putting her shoe away. Go back in kitchen to check dinner. Put Bang on Potty. Laugh when she says no. Take Bang off potty. Give up on potty. 

5 pm – Dinner is done. Fix the girls plates. Hubby is home. Another drink is spilled in the rush to daddy. Clean up mess. Sit the girls down to eat. Listen to Boom complain about green beans. Laugh at Bang for the mashed potatoes on her nose. Sit down. Eat. Clean up the girls. Clean up the table. Do dishes. Soak pots. Because I want something else to do tomorrow. 

6pm – Bang isn’t wearing a diaper.  Where is the diaper? Please tell me there no poo. Crap. There’s poo.  Put Bang in the bath tub. Put Boom in the bathtub. Clean water off the floor. Listen to Bang cry when it’s time to get out. Get their PJs on. Chase Bang around brushing her hair. Cleaned the floor where diaper explosion happened. Mop and bleach floor. Call to hubby to let dogs out. 

8pm – Bedtime. Tell Boom and Bang it’s bedtime. Insert imaginary ear plugs while Boom complains it’s bedtime. Tuck her into bed. Leave her room. Pick up toys in living room. Tuck Bang into her bed. Stand in middle of the living room forgetting something. Laundry. Fold more laundry. Put Bang back in her bed. Listen to her cries. 

9:30pm – sit down. Play game on cell phone. Pause game. Put Bang back in bed. Get her more drink. Sit down and play game. Get bored of game. Write this blog post. Stop in middle and put Bang in my bed. Bang is sleeping. Woo. 

10:30pm – eat ice cream.  Go to bed. Tomorrow will be fun. Haha. 

That’s a normal day for me. Share your normal and not normal with me! We mom’s have to stick together! 

Hugs! Kuddos and Kiddos

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photo credit: Matthew Paul Argall <a href=”″>Pink flowers and a mess of tree branches</a> via <a href=””>photopin</a&gt; <a href=””>(license)</a&gt;


I grew up in a whirlwind of pain. Lies. Deceit. Moments that were so unimportant to the grown ups around me. Those moments were important, they just couldn’t see. They were drowning.

There was a lot of fighting between parents in my childhood years. Lots of screaming. Lots of “I blame you” scenerios. Lots of “go to your room” and “over my dead body” moments. I blame no one. I can’t. We are human. I blame alcohol. They were drowning.

I grew up in a big family. Driven by alcohol, cigarette smoke and bad jokes. Moments of rebellion through most of my teenage years, no fault but my own. I constantly tried to be a bad ass. I wasn’t. Not by a long shot, but the one thing I knew how to do was run. When the splatter of liquid from another bottle washed over the house like a hurricane, I ran. I deflected. I made noise so to speak, to take away from the severity of the many moments that were my childhood. I only wished that I had learned what I know now, back then. 

My mom.

I’m not sure what to say here. My mom is a complicated woman. Most of my life she has been consumed by an addiction that has become like nothing I’ve ever seen. I’m not sure if that makes her strong or weak. Who am I to say what battles she is fighting? But the fight has been long. Too long. It has changed me. Even when it didn’t change her. It made me a better mom. I pay attention more. I have grown into this version of myself that I hope someday soon she will actually be proud of. 

But it’s not required. 

My mom and I have fought so many battles. The war, I’m sure is far from over. My understanding is that mothers are supposed to be different. Nurturing and kind. Mine wasn’t. Mine was drunk. Mean. Narcissistic. She was too busy fighting against the very things that hurt or offended  her instead of seeing when she hurt someone else. She had tiny moments when she would come up for air and smile. It would be almost genuine. Then in a wave of alcohol… It was gone.

Recently I had a visit with her. It turned to chaos. I had taken this life I was given and rose above the hatered, pain and fear to purposely position myself into her life…Come hell or high water. And things were better. We talked. We laughed. We cried. Then in an instant. . . It was all gone. 

She said some terrible things. She acted terribly. Not in a ” I’m sorry I’ll never do it again” way. She crossed a line. A line that is not supposed to be crossed by your mom. The keeper of the cookies, the protector of young. And she was caught.

 I didn’t over react as I would have many years ago, I moved forward. Wanting to protect myself and my children, I vowed never to put myself or them in the same position again. So I distanced myself. Because my mother, the women who I thought had finally after all these years had turned into my best friend,  finally destroyed what shred of a relationship we had with each other. 

And the pain is like something I have never felt before. It’s a burning, intense, can’t catch my breath kind of pain. To find out that, after years of rekindling and trying to essentially “fix” our bond as mother and daughter, it was lost. In one very long and emotional night. 

The next day, was like nothing happened. Either she didn’t remember, or she didn’t want too. But I remember. The alcohol did not drown out the bad for me. So it was all there in the morning. The sun hit my face like any other day, but this day was different. This was a new beginning… One without the closeness of my mother – daughter bond. 

We still talk. I call occasionally. We have conversations as thought the world never stopped spinning for a night. But I remember. And as sad as I am that our relationship won’t go any forward than it is now.. I. Am. Relieved. I finally know where we stand. It’s easier now. I know what to expect. I can shield my children from the pain. Let them enjoy the miniscule moments they have with their grandmother where she is actually laughing. Actually happy. 

And I’ve made my peace with it all. I love my mom. She’s the only one I have. Without her I would not be in this life. But I refuse to have alcohol as a mother. And I’m so glad that I finally can understand the difference.

Maybe that will make moments with my mom easier to get through. Those tiny itty bitty moments where my mom shines through the 100 proof… And I can’t see her drowning anymore.
– Kuddos and Kiddos

Photo credit is limited but here’s what I could find: photo credit

Some of the small details of this post were changed to protect people involved. I’m not an animal. This is something that has weighed on my heart for many months and until now I wasn’t sure how to express it. If you or a loved one battle an addiction, of any kind, I encourage you to seek help. Life is short. 

Also for my followers: I am in need of a legal way of posting pictures to my blog.. any suggestions would be great! Thanks for reading! Hugs!

Potty Training

So I recently started trying to potty train my toddler. Trying being the key word. She will NOT go on the toilet. She sits on there and takes to me like she’s in a chair at the salon. She plays with the toilet paper roll and messes with the bottles of shampoo on the tub, but no potty. I’ve tried everything. Running water, giving her drink and then reading her books while she sits patiently on the potty. No luck.

It’s funny because my six year old was much, much easier to train. She got right on there and did her business like it was second nature. But not my toddler. She’s stubborn. Won’t have it. 

I thought she wasn’t ready. But the abundant amount of diapers she takes off and leaves in the floor everyday tell me otherwise. There’s too many times I’ve had to clean poo off the walls because apparently she thinks that it’s finger paint.  Oversharing I know. It’s gross. I need a bleach bomb for my house. Seriously.. is that a thing? If so let me know where I can get one…

So what is a Mama to do? I haven’t the slightest clue. Patience I suppose. I guess here’s to hoping she figures out where the actual poo is supposed to go… And if your a parent also having the same problem, please share your story too! It’s always nice to know that we are not alone in the very crazy and often down right disgusting thing we call parenting. 

Here’s to a fully trained toddler by summer. 

Hugs – Kuddos and Kiddos
photo credit: quinn.anya <a href=”″>The preschooler was here</a> via <a href=””>photopin</a&gt; <a href=””>(license)</a&gt;

Bad day

The house is mess. Laundry piled up, dishes in the sink, toys in the floor. I can’t find the energy today. 

Are we out of milk? Crap. Diapers are low too. I guess I have to go to the store. Wait.. there’s pull ups.. maybe I can go tomorrow. He can get milk on the way home. There problem solved now I don’t have to see anyone. 

I didn’t want to do anything today. I did my part. I took care of the kids. They are alive, Fed, bathed, loved. That’s all I got. It’s all I can do. I’m not sure why I felt that way. Why I spent the day sitting on my couch watching a TV show I didn’t even like. Wearing pajamas. Feeling blah. Making almost no decisions. Making little effort. Drowning in my own, probably imaginary but very real to me pain.  But I did. 

Today depression kicked my ass.

I need to fold laundry. Look at it. Clouding up the end of the couch. Fold it. I can lay here better if the basket is gone. Set it in the floor. What’s for dinner? Spaghetti. No effort. It’s dark in here… Open the curtains. You will feel better. No wait don’t. It’s better this way. 

There arent many days lately where I feel defeated, lost or low. But…Today was one of those days. I made it through. Pulled myself up from the depths that is depression and went about my evening as if I hadn’t been lost in my own mind all day. I made it. I survived. I’m a survivor. 

The problem with depression is that it doesn’t have a schedule. It shows up whenever and wherever it wants. It comes and goes as it pleases. One day your all happy and good, the next you would rather stay in bed and hide.  Today was that day. And honestly if it weren’t for my job as a wife and mother, I wouldn’t make it out of bed most of these days. 

But I have a job to do. So I fight. I fight within myself to take care of what needs to be done. And every smile, laugh, hug or giggle, gets me right where I need to be. It pulls me back into the light on the darkest of days. It makes me feel important. Let’s me know I’m needed. That I can’t sit around and be low. Can’t be sad. 

A lot of people think depression means that you want to kill yourself. That’s not always the case. Sometimes depression is just not wanting to be anything. Not wanting to do anything. Just to be. That was my problem today. I didn’t want to be around anyone. I wanted to sleep. Not because I was tired but because it would make the day be over faster. I could skip ahead to the good parts. The parts where daddy is home and the kids are playing and laughing together. Not the lonely parts. The hard parts. The repetitive parts. 

It’s hard for me to explain. To put into words. I know I don’t have to explain myself. I had a bad day. Everyone does. But mine got better. I actually smiled and believed that I was happy at the end of the day. I owe that to my family. Being here, laughing and knowing that I’m needed and loved. 

So if you are someone who also suffers from depression…. You are not alone. And you are important to someone. Don’t give up. 

You will survive. You will get through. 

Keep one foot in front of the other. Someone needs you. Don’t let depression win. Kick ass and take names. 

Hugs – Kuddos and Kiddos
Photo credit –

Letter to my Daughter

I thought I had a while before I had to worry about boys, sex, drugs and other perfectly normal but still terrifying things that teenage girls go through. I don’t. It’s here. And it smacked me right in the face. How do we approach this time in their lives? I mean.. parents don’t know anything right? We haven’t lived through any of it. We have no idea what that are talking about. We have no clue what they are dealing with. At least that’s what my daughter would say. 

My ex husband and I got divorced when my daughter was very young. Most of her life I’ve lived in another state. I’ve been there the best that I could given the circumstances. But it’s taken a toll. It’s getting much better as she has got older, but there are still future hardships to go through. So I decided to write this post and share it in the hopes that one day she will know how important she is. How very important this time in her life is. And so she will know she was never alone. 

    Dear sweet, sweet girl,

       I remember the day you were born like it was yesterday. You were lying there taking your first breaths, filling your Dad and I with so much joy. So tiny, yet I already knew that you were going to be amazing. You would blossom into this gorgeous, strong willed, incredibly smart 14 year old teenager. 

      I am writing this letter to tell you how important you are. To tell you that just because I’m your mom, it doesn’t make it any less true. You are IMPORTANT. Every decision you make in these years will effect your whole life. They will shape who you are as a person. As an adult. They will make you into who you will be as a wife, as a parent, and as a friend.

    So please please.. even if its just this once… Listen. 

    • Listen to your dad. Listen to me. Listen to your gut. Your gut is your best friend  hands down. No matter what life throws at you. Don’t second guess it. Ever. It will give you more knowledge about the unknown than anything else will in your entire life. It’s an alarm. It’s your very own security system against danger. Trust it. Listen to it. Never leave home with out it
    • Friends come and go. You will learn during these years that not everyone is your friend. Not everyone will keep your secrets. You will have friends who lead you down the wrong paths. Let them go. Let it go. It’s OK. As you grow you will find new ones. Better ones. Ones who will challenge you to be the amazing person you are. Be patient. They will come.
    • Boys suck. It’s true. They do. Sure, they are so charming and handsome, but they suck. They will make your heart hurt in ways you didn’t think possible. You will think you have to be a different version of yourself to make them happy. You don’t. Be the best version of yourself for you! Not a boy! Because one day a man will walk into your life and will take care of your heart. And you will see what I’m talking about. Trust me. I know from experience. 
    • Sex isnt something you do for fun. Don’t get bullied into sex. Don’t make yourself a sex object. Respect yourself. You are more than a piece of meat. Sex isnt “fun” when your a teenager. There are so many dangers you need to be careful of. Sexually transmitted diseases, pregnancy, rape. Be smart. Use that beautiful brain and wait for a man who will respect you. Always say no when it doesn’t feel right. And don’t be afraid to ask us for help. Ever. Without judgement. If you must make the decision to have sex. Use protection. Make it with someone you trust. Or better yet someone we trust. There are no guarantees in this life. Be careful. 
    • Smile. Every single day. Your smile is magical. Don’t let things weigh on your heart. Your life is long and valuable. Don’t waste it being sad. Those things won’t matter twenty years from now. Right now I know it hurts. But it won’t forever. So smile. Let it go!
    • Don’t do drugs and alcohol. This one is tricky. At some point in your young teenage life, you will be offered a beer. You will be offered a joint. Use your head. There’s plenty of time for “trying”. There’s plenty of time for “experiments”. Now is not the time. Your too impressionable. Don’t let your friends dictate who you are! Be yourself. Do what you want when your ready and not a single moment before.
    • There’s time. You have all the time in the world baby girl. Don’t let your life be a rush and go kind of thing. You don’t have to fit in. You can stand out! Be daring, be different! Follow your brain not your heart. It will take you to the most amazing places!
    • Always be kind. Always. No matter what life has thrown you, be kind. Not everyone will have the life you have. Each and every person goes through battles that you can’t imagine. Be there for them. Show compassion. It will be what separates you from the rest of the world.

        You are beautiful. You are kind. You are wise. You will make it through all of the things life throws at you during this time. You have already made it through so much. Look back at the things that you thought you wouldn’t get through. You made it! So have faith. You will survive. You come from a long list of survivors. So when you feel like you can’t possibly take anymore. Come to us. Come to me. Come to your dad. We will remind you! I will remind you! He will remind you.

        And I’ll buy you ice cream. Because everything is better with chocolate chip cookie dough.

        I love you sweet girl. Be brave. Be strong. You will be amazed where it will take you in your life!

        Love your very proud and often very  terrified mom.

        25 Followers! Woo!

        So 17 days ago I started a blog. I have no idea what I’m doing. Seriously no clue. It’s basically been a trial and error type of situation. I write about whatever comes to mind or personal stuff that has happened. Still getting the hang of this thrilling experience. The photos, the spacing, the trying not to give myself away when I write.  Because I know if some of my friends read this they would probably guess immediately. Haha! Still not read to introduce myself just yet. But I’m so thrilled that people either have liked what they’ve read.. or can relate. After all, all we really need is someone to relate to. Someone who understands what we as parents, daughters, wives, and hell just as humans go through. 

        I wasn’t sure what to expect. But today I hit 25 followers! That may not seem like a lot to you. But I am over the moon! I was just sure that no one would be interested in anything that I would have to share. And here I am moving forward. 

        So thank you very much everyone! Thank you for tuning in to my not so glamorous but often humourous life. I hope that when I laugh, you laugh. I hope when I cry, you laugh.  I mean seriously if I can’t laugh someone should.  Again, thank you. It means more than you know!

        Here’s to more posts and more laughs! 

        Hugs! – kiddos and kiddos