That Particular Ex

I had an incredibly rough weekend that ended up being much more emotional than it should’ve been. I seriously have to give the biggest props to The Boyfriend for knowing just exactly how to support me without me once needing to ask for a single thing. He was clingy and cuddly at the perfect moments and gave me my space exactly when I needed it. I am incredibly lucky.

It started at my Mom’s. We had been asked to help my cousin move, so Mom volunteered to take the kids for the night. The Boyfriend had worked the night before and worked his butt off moving everything and we were both pretty exhausted by the time we got back to Mom’s at about nine.

Carter suddenly decided he wanted to come home. Originally, The Boyfriend and I were okay with him coming home. But then Mom wanted him to stay. Of course, by this point she had already started drinking, and instead of being nice to us about him staying, she snapped that we weren’t allowed to take him home and that he was staying with Grandma tonight. Now, I know that she meant it playfully and I know that she wasn’t trying to be rude, but my exhausted brain and The Boyfriend’s exhausted brain took it all as horribly offensive.

Just as we convinced Carter to stay, she threw up her hands and said “Whatever, take him home!” and the whole drama-for-no-reason just hit me. We made Carter stay, because he decided he was good, and when we left, I broke down in tears. It took me a bit to realize why I cried as hard as I did…

We got home and The Boyfriend and I enjoyed some quiet time together. It was honestly a seriously beautiful night and around midnight, we headed up to our room and commenced an intense blowjob session. Sleeping came easy.

Three hours later, our doorbell rung. It was Alfie. He had come into town for a night rather suddenly. He kept saying that it was because he missed the kids and wanted to see the kids. About an hour and a half into his early morning visit, I get a message from an ex-girlfriend of his asking where he is. Turns out, he’s not actually here to see the kids. He’s here to get a booty call from his ex but his phone died and so he didn’t have her address. So instead of going anywhere else or figuring anything else out, he came here.

I’ve been prepared for Alfie to start hooking up with other people for quite a long time now and I’ve been curious about how I might react. With Alfie, I was incredibly jealous and very possessive, although not entirely for the wrong reasons being that he was unfaithful… But I never in a million years thought that he would get back together, in anyway, with this particular ex.

This particular ex is tied pretty closely to our relationship. He broke up with me twice to be able to get into this girls pants. Each time they dated for less than two weeks and each time, he came crawling back to me. Each time, I was stupid enough to take him back. Everytime he came back to me, she’d start calling me constantly, threatening to beat me up, as soon as I wasn’t pregnant…

Alfie and I always had a “thing”. Well really, we had a lot of “things”. But one of our most notable “things” was roses. When we first started dating, he said something along the lines of, “Of all the flowers in the garden, you are the sweetest rose”, and that was it, roses became “our thing”.

After every stay in the hospital, after every fight and after every child, even when he proposed, I got 13 red roses. And every rose I ever received had it’s petals carefully picked after dying and stayed stored in a bag our entire relationship. For one of our anniversaries, he got me a silver rose that was engraved. It was a big deal.

When Alfie and his ex hooked up the second time, he gave her my rose…

This particular ex left a seriously sour taste in my mouth and after Alfie and I broke up the final time, she decided she was over Alfie and tried to become my friend. It’s been a rather unsuccessful journey for us, though I have babysat her kids and we are Facebook friends. We agreed, her and I, that Alfie would be off limits to us both from now on. Alfie agreed that she would be off limits.

I mean, I wrote my best and most saddest song about this particular ex…

So, to not only catch him trying to hook up with her, but also to get the information straight from her before him, seriously broke my heart. I spent an entire day and a half in a deep, dark funk. The amount of disrespect I feel he has for me is just so intense to me.

He tried to compare it to The Boyfriend and I, because The Boyfriend used to be his friend. That’s how I met The Boyfriend, through Alfie. And Alfie had always feared that The Boyfriend and I would get together. It was his worst nightmare coming true. However, before anything even began to happen between The Boyfriend and I, before we even began flirting with each other, I went to Alfie (even though I didn’t have to, he had broken up with me) and asked him how he would feel if The Boyfriend and I hooked up or started dating. I asked him for permission to make any advancements with The Boyfriend and he said yes.

I have outright said no, and I’ve asked so freaking nicely.

He made it sound like he understood and like he wasn’t going to do anything. But then she called… She called my phone… He said that he couldn’t come over just yet because he was planning on taking the kids to breakfast. I went and got the kids early from Grandma’s so that they could spend the day with their Dad. Turns out, it was only breakfast. The moment that was done, he was off to her. Except he couldn’t remember her address, so after leaving for an hour, he was back on my doorstep asking if he could use my phone to message her. Like a sucker, I let him…

We are so civil to each other when we’re around one another. It feels like we’ve both moved on and away from hatred and bitterness. But his actions this weekend feel like utter contempt for me. And I have to wonder what the hell I ever did to him to make him hate me so much? To make him disrespect me so blatantly?

I’m more or less over the whole thing now, assuming it was just a booty call and doesn’t become a relationship – because that, I don’t think I can deal with at all. Mainly because I can’t stand the concept of that particular ex being my baby’s step-mom. I actually already know that will have negative effects on absolutely everyone, and most especially him.

It’s Morning!

My morning is off to a pretty great start. Look at that, I just said morning and it absolutely is. Do you know how many weeks it’s been since I said morning and it actually was morning?!?

I’m up early this morning for a bunch of different reasons. First and foremost, because it is the first day of the return of #WritingChallenges for #EroticWriters and I wanted to be sure that it all worked the way it was supposed to. So far, so good.

Then, the older kids are coming home today and will be home right around noon. If it were a normal day, I’d still be upstairs in bed sleeping with Carter at that time. I woke up when The Boyfriend went to work this morning so that I could be sure to be awake when the older kids get home. I’m surprisingly more excited than I expected about them coming home. Cannot wait for Carter to have someone else to play with!

I’ve got a lot more stuff planned for today, all mostly online stuff. I do plan on cleaning the kitchen at some point today, but we did a bunch of cleaning last night, so my offline to-do list is dramatically shorter. I want to write a buttload of blog posts, but first I need to write those of which are necessary – then I can write for fun.

I wrote a post awhile back on my bucket list that has been getting a few comments. I need to go back and update it, to make it more clear that Alfie and I are no longer together. So I’ve gotten a few comments about “you just need to (a) where your relationship with Alfie is concerned”, and it’s amazing how hard it is to respond to those ones nicely. Mainly because of all the crappy drama that went down between Alfie and I (especially in terms of that post), although we seemed to get over it well enough and are friendly with each other, so I can’t really complain about anything.

Ah, the problems of a blog-a-holic 😉

Just to clarify, for those of you who may not know, Alfie and The Boyfriend are two different people. Alfie is Kaeidyn, Kenzie and Keirnan’s Dad, The Boyfriend is Carter’s Dad. Alfie is my ex-boyfriend, The Boyfriend is my current boyfriend.

It’s All in My Head…

My sleep has just absolutely been sucking lately. I’ve managed to give myself a wicked headache almost every night before sleep for about a week now and waking up is just about the most impossible thing in the world for me right now.

The worst part of it all is the way that The Boyfriend is dealing with it. And I’m so unsure how to respond. I haven’t had this many sleeping issues since back when Alfie and I were still together. And when I’d sleep past noon and let the cleaning go by the wayside, it would be days and days of yelling and screaming, name-calling and on top of my own beating up of myself, there was his as well.

The Boyfriend on the other hand, comes upstairs and kisses me gently awake. It takes me a long time to respond to those kisses. I roll away from him, I stay asleep, and he’ll sit in the bed next to me playing on his cellphone. Then, when he’s officially ready to be done waiting, he’ll light a smoke. I often begin to stir, because the smell of smoke when I’m sleeping makes me immediately worry about fire. Then, when I begin the beating up myself for sleeping in past noon, he’ll wrap his arms around me and is the most comforting, “Oh, we don’t mind. It’s okay. You must’ve been really tired, because you didn’t flinch at all.”

A couple days back was a perfect example. I had planned the day before that we would wake up early the next day. The house is still mostly clean, but I wanted to get up early and just do some touchups. But the next morning, he was up early and I just could not open my eyes. When I did wake up, after noon, I immediately started in, “I can’t believe I slept that late.” and a whole bunch of profanities and negativity and he said, “It’s not like the house is that messy, so it’s no big deal that you slept in. If I were worried about it, I would’ve made sure you were awake.”.

My heart is so grateful to him and his wonderfulness and his understanding and his compassion and his support. My head is absolutely confused by it and also hates it all a little bit. So between my head and my heart, there’s a pretty big argument going on.

The rut that I’ve been in is not going away and I would argue that it’s getting worse. I seem to get through most of my day without being really aware of the feelings and then once the kids go to bed, I’m just bombarded with negative thoughts and feelings. I spent the night last night shushing myself to sleep, because my brain would just not stop making noise.

I’m refusing to call it anything close to depression, especially being that it’s not like any of my previous depressions. I’m still able to find stuff funny, I’m still able to laugh when my kids are being ridiculously adorable and I’m still interested in all my hobbies. The only part of it all that seems like depression is the very negative self-talk, the constant reeling of my brain and this overwhelmingly stressed out feeling. And a couple mini panic attacks, over things like cops parked outside of the house or the wind blowing just a little too hard.

Otherwise, it just feels like being kind of stuck. Can’t make any moves or do much of anything, just have to stay still. I call it a rut for exactly that reason. It’s like I was walking along one day and then I stepped down and fell into a rut. And now I’m trying to figure out how to dig my way out of it. And once I do, everything will be fine.

I keep thinking that I’m making some progress. Especially on those days when the waking up isn’t so hard, when the getting up and getting things done seems possible, it feels like I’m beginning my way out of it. And then the stupidest little things will throw me back down to the bottom of the rut and I have to start all over again. Lately, that stupid little thing is my sleeping habits.

I keep saying to myself, “Just get up. You just have to get up. It’s not that hard. One foot in front of the other. Get up!” and then I immediately feel like an idiot, because if it was just that simple, don’t you think I would do that. It always reminds me of the only time I’ve ever yelled at a doctor. She was going off about how I could “choose to be happy” and this was at the worst parts of my depression. I stood up and yelled at her, “If I could CHOOSE to be HAPPY, don’t you think I would?!? Why the hell else would I be here?!?”.

It’s a complicated time for me. Especially being that this is the first time I’ve ever experienced one of these situations without some kind of obvious trigger. Normally, this type of rut is brought on by finances or external stress, too much on my plate or relationships – something. But no matter how hard I search, I just can’t seem to find the thing that is keeping me here, in this perpetual rut. The only thing I keep coming back to is me. It’s all in my head. I’ve never experienced that before…

I’m… just… done…

Yesterday was mostly not a good day and I am just still absolutely reeling from it. I tried to sleep most of the day away today so that I wouldn’t have to think about it all, though only made it to noon and very restlessly at that.

It started with all the walking. For some reason, the knee pain that hasn’t been bothering me in almost four years, is back with a vegenance. Walking from our house to my Mom’s, to Wal-Mart, back down to Mom’s and back home was just too much for it. I spent most of the night complaining.

Then, I chose last night to finally be beyond frustrated at my sexual situation. He stayed up late playing games, I stayed up late working on computer stuff. Then, I asked if he wanted to take a shower with me and he was game, but kept procrastinating. Generally shower together = sex. I had hinted at him, both subtely and overtly, many times during the day that I had every intention of getting laid last night.

I decide I’m ready to get my loving on, and head upstairs and say forget the shower. He’s barely awake enough for sex, let alone shower and sex. So I crawl into bed and stick out my ass as far as I can, hoping he’ll snuggle up against it like he normally does and we’ll both turn each other with the grinding and warmth and skin-to-skin contact. Except, he puts his hand on my leg and immediately, I can tell he’s going to fall asleep. No movement in the hands, no trying to reach up to touch my boobs, just flat flaccid fingers.

So I kick my feet, “Baaabbbee!!” and he knows exactly what I’m going to say and immediately you can feel his whole body sink. He hates when I complain about our sex life. And the venting began. I don’t even remember all of what I said, the contained words and emotions just bursted forth. I remember yelling out, “I know you don’t care about sex, but I DO!” and with clenched jaw calmly, “It may be enough for you to have sex every 4th or 5th night, but in my world there is no reason why we can’t be having it every single day – hell, multiple times a day!”. I was absolutely in no control of what was coming out of my mouth, it just continued to spew. I’d stop myself and try to silence that voice in my head, and then without even being aware, words would just start jumping. That’s what happens when I let it fester too long.

I finally finish, all the words now escaped, and my heart is pounding heavy in my ears, my palms are sweating profusely and all I keep thinking is “Say something, say something, say something!” – not even to the tune of the catchy song, just an unending repeating line. In the silence, insecurity grows. In what felt like hours, but really only amounted to minutes, my thoughts became so distorted. I couldn’t even remember what I was attempting to do when I started it all, and I felt like we were worlds away from each other, even though he was mere inches away in bed! “Say something, say something, say something!”.

The issue was no longer his sex drive, the issue was now mine. The frustration was no longer about wanting to have sex, it was now about how much of a freak I was for wanting so much sex. The problem wasn’t sex drives at all, the problem was my appearance. And once I get to that one, it is officially a point of no return. A point where I can’t hear what he has to say, because it’s all lies (even if it’s not, my brain will not believe it). I can’t see anything and every thought immediately goes to “You’re fat”, “You’re ugly”, “You’re undesirable”, “You’re unwanted” and it just spirals and spirals and spirals.

I’m not typically a girl who cares much about what other people think about my appearance. Yeah, when you call me names or whatever, I’m likely to cry, but be truly and profoundly upset by it – to the point where it screws with my psyche – it’s pretty rare. I’m very accepting of my weight, I don’t hate my curves or the extra padding around my hips. Yes, I have acne and frizzy straight hair and I’m well aware that I’m nowhere close to a supermodel. But do I really care all that much? Do I spend a lot of my day considering those things? Not really.

However, silence… His silence… During a point where I’m sexually frustrated… Insecurity grows and grows and grows until eventually it’s so loud and so big that you can’t ignore it no matter how hard you try. Every little flaw that ever even flickered through your mind, wasn’t even a lasting insecurity, just flickered there, every single one comes rushing out of the recesses of your memory and suddenly, you are the ugliest, fattest, most undesirable, disgusting, low-life, worth nothing piece of crap.

And I know that this is not realistic. I know that this is the abuse cycle coursing through my veins. I know that he thinks none of those things at all, because he IS NOT Alfie. I know that his silence doesn’t mean anything more than him processing. I try everything to control this irrational insecurity.

I turn playful, because apparently this is my new defense mechanism. If I’m smiling or joking or laughing, or poking or prodding or tickling, then all is good. I feel protected and I feel like I am protecting them from the craziness that is me…

I grab at his arms and wrap my arms about him, my heart still pounding, and nuzzle into him playfully shaking him, “Say something, anything. What are you thinking?!?”, my voice trying to sound encouraging, supportive, communicative – even though I can feel myself crumbling to pieces the longer he doesn’t repond. And it took forever before he finally made any movements like he was going to do or say anything.

He said exactly one sentence. He says it everytime I try to have a serious discussion about my mounting sexual desires and his declining sex drive. “I just know everything i say is going to get turned back around on me”.

Now, I’d like to take a second to point out that (1) This is not something that I used to do. He said this the first time we ever had a serious discussion about anything, before anything had ever gotten “turned back around” on him. (2) That what he means by this exactly has never really been defined. Apparently, from what I can gather at this point, it is any response you may have to what he says. You can tell him he’s right, you can tell him he’s wrong, you can change the subject, it does not matter. Whenever you respond with anything but silence, this is considered as you turning something back around on him.

I am not saying anything negative about the way that he is expressing himself. I’ve been with him long enough to be able to read through the figurative lines here. I know that he feels beyond emmasculated when I pick apart our relatively great sex life and I know that he has no words to express that feeling. I know that he’s feeling vulnerable and needs support even when I’m criticising him. I know that his communication methods are deeply flawed and so does he. So I assure him that I won’t turn it “back around” on him, that I will do my best to just keep my mouth shut.

Often, I’ve discovered, after three days that mounting sexual frustration gets to be too much for me. And my way of dealing with it is to playfully whine to The Boyfriend, “You suck” or “You’re a dink!” and when it’s real bad, a very much joking and I would even argue, flirtatious “I hate you!”. Again, it’s that protection and self-preservation. I don’t want to say what I’m really feeling, like “I feel undesirable”, so I say, most commonly, “You suck!”.

So he blurts out, “It’s because you beat me down, like with ‘You suck’ and stuff like that.”. Again, this is a common phrase that he throws out. He is a master deflector. My jaw always drops, no matter how many times we have this discussion. It immediately puts me on the defensive, because I’ve explained numerous times to him the reason I say “You suck”, as opposed to pouring my broken insecure heart out to him… I begin to explain that to him again and in the process, turn the whole thing “back around” on him.

Silence falls between the two of us. My heart is pounded the loudest and fastest rhythm I’ve ever heard, and his breathing quiets until he is officially asleep. I’m left wide awake, fuming, reeling, on the verge of puking from the mini panic attack I’m having at the deep and awkward, uncomfortable silence that lingers in the air.

I went to bed, the only thought in my head, re-playing itself over and over again, lulling me to sleep, “I’m done!, I’m done!, I’m done!”, over and over and over.

When his alarm went off for work this morning, I threw it at him harder than I had meant to. When I woke up next, he was gone to work and “I’m done” was still streaming through my head. When I got out of bed, he called minutes later and I… am… just… done!

What that means… I couldn’t even begin to tell you. My brain cannot even get anywhere past the word done. I have no idea what it means, or how I’m going to figure out what it means or anything. I have no idea… I’m just done…

Crazy Days

It’s been a pretty eventful week and it’s nowhere near over yet. Needless to say, I’ve barely been getting on the computer…

It’s been really hot here for some time now and we’ve been getting out of the house as much as possible. Mostly going down to my Mom’s, because she has a huge yard and a little pool and sprinklers and stuff for the kids to play with.

We also ended up going swimming with Alfie a few days back and that was a wicked day. I hadn’t been to G.H. Dawe since the big renovations quite awhile back and the changes that were made were fantastic. Went down two waterslides for the first time since I was 11, swam so much that my legs were absolutely mush by the end of it and even walked home in the beginnings of a pretty awesome thunderstorm.

We also had a super fun experience on Sunday. I follow the Red Deer Culture Services page on Facebook and got an update that stuff was going on down at Bower Ponds. Luckily, we don’t live far and walked down and enjoyed some traditional japanese drumming with a twist. Even though the kids were total brats almost the entire time, it was a really great day out of the house.

Tomorrow, we’ve got a beach day planned. Heading out to Gull Lake, gonna wear my “bathing suit” to a beach for the first time (worn it to the pool twice) and excited to see my man strut his stuff on the beach – which he hasn’t gotten to do in a few years. The last time he did, I was pregnant…

He’s on holiday, so we’ve made quite a few plans for the week. Mostly all stuff that just needs to get done and not necessarily vacation-esque things. I’m hoping that we’ll get the kids birth certificates ordered on Friday and we’ve gotta get some paperwork filled out before the end of the week, plus I’m hoping to finally get through the last of the laundry and get a real nice deep clean of a couple of rooms in the house. So, his holiday is more like work-at-home week.

We also need to start thinking about getting ready for the whole back-to-school debacle AND three kids have birthdays coming up, plus my birthday is in a couple months. I want to get all the organizing and planning stuff out of the way as soon as possible, so that I have less and less to do the closer we get to Christmas… And don’t even get me started on that!!!

So, there’s an update and a to-do list 😉

Back-To-School Stressors

Wow, it’s been awhile since I’ve actually published a post here. I’ve written a couple and saved them as drafts but haven’t actually published in a bit. Mostly because I’ve been feeling pretty overwhelmed.

I keep putting a lot of things on the back burner and then I feel rushed to catch up and it’s officially beginning to affect my mental well-being. I just feel stressed out all the time. And it’s not like I’m slacking on anything important, just mostly online work, but it’s very discouraging to not be able to take any of my great ideas into reality because of my lack of motivation…

It’s also been really warm and that’s putting a big stick in everything. Everyone is grumpier because of it, the kids seem to have a buttload more energy than normal and we all seem exhausted all the time from all the sweating and discomfort in the heat. I’ve been complaining about my hair a lot because it’s so long that it makes me feel hotter than it actually is.

The Boyfriend has a week of holidays coming up starting this weekend and I cannot tell you how excited I am for that. We’re hoping to get out for a beach day and I’m really hoping we’ll do one of our good old nature walks. I’m also hoping that we’ll figure out some sort of sleeping routine that will work a little better for us during that week – especially being that back to school is coming up soon.

And don’t even get me started about how stressed out all of that makes me feel. This time of year is always a really harsh time of year for me, and I always seem to forget how bad it is right up until it happens. Part of the biggest reason for it is that I would much rather homeschool my kids and I don’t and that often disappoints me. Originally, I had planned on homeschooling them but Alfie and much of my family was deadset against it. I caved (as I often did during those years) and put Kaeidyn into public school.

Then, that was just the natural progression of things from then on. A few years back, we started slacking pretty hard in terms of the kids schooling and it wasn’t until it was pointed out to me that I realized that part of the reason why we were slacking so hard is because I viewed the whole way they were being educated as such a failure on my part as a parent. To this day, I struggle with it and I notice that struggle the most as we come into the school year. But now, the kids like public school and they don’t want to be taken out of it.

It’s also Carter’s first year and first years always make me nervous. I mean, I’ve pretty much been doing them almost non-stop but it still just gets to me somehow. And I always tend to overthink the going back to school which makes me dread it even more and it’s just so much… I just have so much that I need to get done and it’s so hard to figure out what to get started with first…

Feeling Like a Crappy Mom


I have so many things to rant about right now, and I am disliking it with a passion.

I’m feeling like a crappy Mom today. A really crappy Mom. And not because I actually am a crappy Mom, but that feeling is just overpowering every other feeling today.

It had been about 4 days since I heard from the kids last. Then, they call me this morning sounding chipper as ever. So, I get to talk to all of them and even though I’m still half asleep in bed, I manage to have a great conversation with them. When I say “I miss you”, not a single one of them says anything back.

Then, Alfie and I talk about the plans for the next little bit. He has to come into town for one day for a funeral sometime this week, but has had plans all along to take the kids to the K-days in Edmonton. So, for one day the kids are coming back and then they’re going back for the weekend. But here’s Alfie, 2 1/2 weeks into having the kids, sounding happier than he’s sounded in months of phonecalls. Not pulling his hair out, begging me to take them back, crying and sobbing like a little girl. No, he’s happy!

And I immediately felt guilty. Really guilty. You know how happy I sound when I’ve got all four them? I sound absolutely downright miserable and I often feel that way too – I feel rundown, I feel exhausted, I feel overwhelmed, I feel like every single thing I’m doing is the wrong thing, I feel like crap. I do not sound happy when I’ve got all the kids.

Now don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying that I’m not happy when I’m with all my kids, because I am. On the inside, in my heart, I’m more happy than anything and I feel complete and whole. I love that I feel exhausted and overwhelmed because I put a lot of energy into loving and raising my kids. But I hate that I don’t get to be the parent that can sound happy.

And I know I’m seeing it from a skewed perspective and everyone has been really quick to point that out to me. First of all, Alfie has been working this entire time, full-time and someone else has been spending the majority of days with the kids. Second, it’s easy to only enjoy the kids for a couple of hours every night for two weeks when you haven’t had to do it in quite a long while. And for the kids sounding “happier”, of course they are. You would be too if you were being bought new stuff everyday and getting to go to all these awesome events. Everyone keeps reminding me that it’s easy to be that kind of parent when you don’t always have to do it.

But even with all these other perspectives, I just can’t shake this feeling that I’m a terrible Mom and mostly I can’t stop my head from telling me over and over again that if everyone is happier where they are, they should just stay there. But, I just keep trying to tell my head, it’s a fake happiness, an unreal happiness. I have to keep telling myself that. Because I really don’t want them to “just stay there”, I miss them… I miss them a lot.


So, I’ve introduced you to The Boyfriend and Carter, I’ve told you about my years long hiatus and I alluded to the older three kids twice now. I guess it’s time to start getting down to them. However, we should probably start at the beginning… Their Dad.

Let’s start at the beginning, shall we?

When I was 16, we made a huge inter-province move from BC to Alberta. What was huge about this move was a lot of things – we weren’t moving to Alberta because we wanted to leave BC, I was in my final year of school, I had just gotten out of a long-term (and my first) relationship and we were living closer to more family than we had in many many years.

A few weeks after starting school, I met Alfie, who was at the time imprisoned by a wheelchair after a drunken night resulted in him passing out a little too close to a campfire… Then, I discovered that due to some of the recent transfers of schools and things that had gone down, I was not going to have enough credits to graduate from high school this year or next year or the year after that.

Soon after, I dropped out of school and Alfie and I began seeing each other, at the encouragement of all his friends – not necessarily because either of us really wanted to. I always referred to Alfie and I’s relationship as “the one night stand that just wouldn’t end”, because that’s exactly what we agreed to. We said, “it’s just going to be this one night, this one time” and 6 years, 3 kids and 2 stays at a mental institution is exactly how long it lasted…

I look back on that time now with a great deal of shame, embarrassment, and not regret – because I learnt so many valuable lessons that I couldn’t have learnt any other way – but something akin to regret. The me now doesn’t recognize the me of then and I’m sure Alfie often feels the same way. Together, we were toxic.

Whenever I picture Alfie and I during those years, I think about the movie Crazy, Beautiful. Not necessarily the actual movie or the characters in it, but in the sense that it was an absolutely crazy time and yet somehow there was something beautiful about being in it – and that’s probably why it was so hard for Alfie and I to officially end it.

I remember when we first did end it, the hardest adjustment I had to make was that life didn’t have to be endless drama and arguments, people didn’t have to yell to get their point across, chaos didn’t have to be surrounding you at every moment. To this day, it’s harder for me to deal with the silent treatment than it ever was for me to deal with the verbal abuse.

All that being said, even with the tragedy that was Alfie and I, we made 3 of the most beautiful kids you have ever seen and it’s not always easy and it’s not always the best of the best, but we are still friendly with one another and are determined to raise our kids together.

It took a few years, but here we are now, 6 years later, and between Alfie and The Boyfriend, these kids couldn’t possibly have a better set of Dads!