Admit it! You sang along. Even people who hate that song can't help but sing along to it. Especially woman. I have never minded being called a bitch. I can be. We all can be, whether we admit it or not. Usually, my attitude is dependent on someone else's; but not always. I can be moody and temperamental. I can get easily frustrated and feel anxious in times of stress. Sometimes. I am a riddle, wrapped in a mystery. I wear my heart on my sleeve. I am easily offended. I am fairly emotional and will cry at Hallmark commercials, a sad song on the radio or the thought of my children growing up and leaving my house. Even now, as I write this I have to fight back the stinging of tears. I'm also stubborn, hard headed, obstinate, strong minded, opinionated and loud. However, I can be sweet and kind, caring and loving. I'm absent minded and I procrastinate. I am also very unmotivated and kinda lazy. And you will never find a more trusting friend than me.
I tend to push people away. I know I am tough to deal with. If I keep people at a distance, I won't get hurt. I can count on one hand the amount of people I have absolute trust in. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a recluse or anything. There are probably a dozen or more people I would trust with my children. But less than half that, would I trust with a secret. I have been betrayed far too many times. Fortunately though, I am also an open book and don't have many secrets. Just ask me.
In life I am a mother first and foremost. I was never one of those women who ever wanted children and when I first found out I was pregnant with my oldest, I seriously thought about terminating the pregnancy. I was a single woman and would be raising my child alone. I never wanted kids, and here I was about to do it alone. At the time I was living in a the spare bedroom of one of my dearest friends, one of the ones I would trust with a secret, and I was working for minimum wage at a gas station in Waterford Michigan. I had no business bringing a life into this world. However, a whole series of events happened at once and a year after finding out I was pregnant, I was living in my own home in Northern Michigan, and I had a great job I was able to bring my child to. My mother came to my rescue and my family chipped in where they could.
My son. He changed my life. I was just going through the motions and when he was born I knew. I knew I wanted to be a momma. At least to him. He was the sweetest baby and even at 15 years old today, he is still a sweet hearted young man. All things I do, I do with him and his younger brother in mind. I go without, so they can have the things they need. I am raising them to be productive members of society. I say no more often than I say yes. Even when we are upset with each other I still give them hugs and kisses good night. They are only my children for such a short time before they become husbands, fathers, employees and/or employers. My job as their mother is to teach them to be kind and caring, loyal and honest. To teach them humility and bravery. To let them know what failure feels like and to push them to do better. I hope I'm doing it right. It really is the most difficult thing to be a bitch who is absolutely crazy about her children.
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