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That’s me.
It’s been almost four years since this journey began. The journey of motherhood and marriage. Life has taken this crazy turn after we had Masen. We moved to Los Angeles, California, a wise move since my sister lives only a few blocks away and helped us so much with Masen.
We bought a home—a modest-size California bungalow with three bedrooms, two baths, and a decent size backyard for Masen to run around in. When we purchased the place, it needed some work. Haden is quite the handyman. However, between his stubborn ways refusing for anyone to touch his house and the long hours in the office, it feels like we’ve been renovating forever.
While juggling being first-time parents, getting settled and trying to renovate, we also had a small, intimate wedding. Just our close family and friends in my hometown in Virginia. It was the second most perfect day after Masen was born, a day that seemed like many moons ago.
Career-wise, things have picked up rapidly. I didn’t have much of an opportunity to be a full-time stay-at-home mom. The publishing industry changed significantly, and we found ourselves in a position to take on more work. I love my job as Editor-in-Chief. I’m certain I am born to do this, but I guess, if I’m being honest, one of the things I miss is actually editing.
I run the editorial department, making sure I have the right staff working for our company and mentor them with my years of knowledge. We have a vast range in our team, seniors and juniors, all bringing something to the table which makes our publishing group an industry leader.
I should be on top of the world, right?
It’s difficult to explain the constant battle within myself when it comes to being a working mother. Motherhood isn’t what I expected it to be. I have spent years watching loved ones and friends have babies. I've never considered myself broody like some women I know, but I wouldn’t change Masen for the world. It definitely brought on a new set of challenges. I’m not going to throw the word ‘easy’ around, but I never expected it to be this difficult.
On top of that—Mommy-guilt killed me every day.
Masen turned four and decided he wants to act like jerk junior. He’s a big boy now, according to him. Therefore, he refuses to wear certain clothes because they’re for babies. He no longer wants to nap in the day, and God forbid he drink milk. Only babies drink milk. Long gone are the days of wanting to watch Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. His new favorite channel is ESPN.
And he follows Haden like a shadow. It doesn’t help that he looks like his dad and has no features of mine. His mousy brown hair falls over his eyes unless it is combed back and styled. His ears—cute and small—even stick out slightly just like Haden’s. Small things, I know. But his face, the way his eyes shape when he smiles to the dimple which appears on his right cheek, is exactly the same. It’s actually surreal.
It is two against one in our household.
If Mommy says do this, it isn’t good enough because Daddy says don’t worry.
I’m constantly butting my head against the wall because I married the most frustrating man in the entire world. A man who always has a way of bringing out the beast within me since day one.
The tight grip on my arm startled me, and on first instinct, I wrestled my arm out of his grip.
“Hey. Jesus, Malone, would you just stop for a second?”
I turned to face him, and surprisingly, he looks concerned.
“What, Haden? You want to point out how funny that picture was? Or how I mustn’t be any good at sex which is why he strayed?”
“Calm down, will you?”
“I’m sorry. Someone sent me a photo of my fiancé practically fucking another woman a week after we broke up. Excuse me for thinking that the word ‘calm’ does not belong in my vocabulary right now!”
“Ex, Presley. Ex-fiancé. Plus, he wasn’t fucking her. Woman, you need a reality check. Men don’t huddle with their pals eating bowls of ice cream as they watch The Notebook. They go find some new pussy and fuck it like a jackrabbit.”
He said what?
A thousand shades of red flashed before me, and for a split second, I wondered what it was like to do time in jail for murdering someone with your bare hands. The nerve of the prick! The worst part is, I’m scared there is some truth to it, and the ass is me living in a world of denial. Stop telling yourself Jason is, was, the perfect guy.
“Wouldn’t hurt you to follow in his footsteps,” the Jerk chided.
I lifted my hand to strike him, but he caught me just in time, strengthening his grip on my wrist. “Don’t even think about it.”
“I tell you what, you leave me the fuck alone, and I promise I won’t smash that pretty-boy face of yours,” I fired back.
“Pretty? C’mon, Pres, you can do better than that.”
“I’m not your friend, so cut the nickname bullshit. Honestly, Haden, let me go. Despite what Jason’s done, I need to go home.”
He let me go, and defeated, I straightened my arm.
“I’m not surprised he strayed. You need to pull that stick out of your ass and put something else in there instead, Ice Queen.”
