Favorite scripture

A few years back, I took these biblically based personal finance courses through a local church with my husband. We were asked in the first class to share our favorite scripture, a Bible verse that had become a life motto, or mantra. I knew immediately what the message was behind the scripture but if my life had depended on it I just couldn’t retreive the words or verse. I was trying again, last night as I was talking to Bean before bed about what the future in our relationship may be like, to share the same sentiment. Again, I just couldn’t remember.

 Today, I finally found it. It came up in my Instagram news feed. The timing is peculiar, but I’m so happy to have it back.



I am in tears right now seeing a meeting between a mother and her autistic young adult son’s therapist in ‘Atypical’ on Netflix. I have never seen THIS kind of real-MYlife played out from so many angles. The things a mother of a child on the spectrum only wrestles with. The empathetic advocacy Ive seen behind closed doors … portrayed ?

Im not sure how I feel about it yet, but for now I guess it’s just nice to have a representation in any form of media.

Ive told Pickle about it and am curious to hear his feedback.


Ive spent my entire adult life trying to save you. Im done. I refuse to suffer at your hands anymore and I wont let my kids experience the fruitless trials that come with trying to love and save you. 

If today’s conversation should become our last, Ive made my peace with that. 

I love myself and the kids too much to let you rob our lives of anything more. 

It is what it is. 

The Hazy Cynapsis

Is it ironic that my parents and sister for whom I am just “too much” all arrived at their joint vacation at the same time my boyfriend is mansplaining how much “chaos” there is in my home or is it just really “spit in your face” obvious that I’m fucked up and broken and a burden to everyone?

Establishing boundaries

I woke up this morning to a message request sent through Facebook Messenger. It was the EX.

Please just talk with me soon. Please steph. I miss you  guys.

I don’t know what there is to talk about because we live with different truths in different realities. That was my response.

I honestly do not know if there is a right response here. I struggle with giving no response to someone I know so intimately struggles with their demons. I also struggle with any response I give, not knowing the mindframe in which it will be received.

He asked about me and the kids and I could not answer. I didn’t feel safe doing so. Then, he told me that he might move to California for a job but that he didn’t want to go if there was even a chance to see any of us. He spoke about the months he spent in jail and the time he spent there reading, learning and inspecting himself. He continued to say that he was doing everything the courts and I had told him to do and that he didn’t need drugs to alter anything about him or his life anymore. He said he was sorry. He asked me to let God in my heart and to forgive him.

My heart is not the problem. It’s my memory. Just a month ago, he was not in a good place mentally. The stories that make their way back to me from his mouth to others’ ears are never accountable or based in reality.

 All I could offer was that he should take the job in California and get a fresh start. If he really wanted to help make amends, he could put his money where his mouth is where I am concerned and he could write letters to the kids, they are old and capable enough to make their own decisions where he is concerned, but generally, we all had boundaries he needed to respect. Less conversation, more action.

That’s it. That’s all I’ve got.