Best memories come from bad ideas

I am probably one of the most honest, most forthright people out there. There's not a lot I hide, and I have a tendency to overshare. I realize this fully, but it doesn't bother me.

I know a lot of people are way more private than I am, and I totally respect that. I guess I just don't embarrass all too easily? 

And I feel that for the most part, sharing my life experiences helps not only myself to analyze my past actions, but maybe so that others can learn from my mistakes.

But there are some things, that even I, queen of gab, don't talk about. Everybody has secrets. And there are some that I will take to the grave with me. Oh, got your interest piqued, did I? Well I'm not telling! Haha.

It's nothing terrible... or is it? I dunno, I feel like everything I've ever said, done, or experienced has of course shaped me as a human being, for good or bad.

But for the most part, I feel that I am a good person, so why should it matter some of the "bad" things I may have done in the past? Everyone has demons, skeletons in their closet. I am no different.

And even though I usually don't mince words about how I'm feeling, or about people who have hurt/wronged me, sometimes  even I know where to draw the line, and show a little respect and decorum.

I haven't blogged in FOREVER because I've been busy with the move. Which was, horrible. There are no other words for it.

I could go on about how some of my friends were AMAZING and such great helps to me and I love them and will always appreciate what they've done, and work somehow to repay their kindness.

I could also go on about how I feel that there were some friends I should have been able to count on, that I wasn't able to.

For the most part, except for a few hours on one night where my boyfriend, my friend from highschool, and 2 random dudes I'd never met before helped me move the "heavy" stuff, I moved almost entirely on my own, with little help from others, with 2 little kids in tow, and in the bad weather of rain and hail.

There was a point where I went over 24 hours without showering, sleeping, or eating, because I couldn't afford to take ANY kind of break b/c I was in such a time crunch to get it done.

But the important thing is, it is done. I am moved in. And almost all unpacked and settled in. I survived. I'm a survivor.

I don't have any other option but to trudge forward, and make the best of the hands I've been dealt in life. I tell myself, that I've seen the lowest of the lows, and that things can only get better from here on out.

I hope this is true. I have an amazing boyfriend I love, but don't get to see much, but hopefully that will be changing soon with the bit of good news I got.

I was approved for daycare assistance, so I'm going to be working dayside again finally once I put the kiddos in daycare.

I never wanted to put my kids in daycare, but I just can't live off of working part time, so I need to be able to work fulltime, which I can only do if they are in daycare.

So not working nights anymore should make it so I can have more freetime, not only with my kiddos, but with my boyfriend, and friends as well. Finally feel like I can have a life again outside of working nights!

And as much as I love my children, moms need breaks too. And for the past 8 months, I've had the kiddos full time, with very little time for myself and I defintely get burnt out sometimes.

So starting I believe in June, the ex and I will be having kids every other week. It will be weird to go a week without seeing the kids, but in the long run, I think it will be beneficial that they get more time with their dad, and that I get a break so I have time to recharge my batteries and be a better mom for the weeks that I have them.