A mornings first thought

What if a soul mate isn’t the person you first fell in love with, but the first person who fell in love with you?

What if we’ve been looking at it wrong all along?

Who would your soulmate be?

Do you even remember? Or did you ever even know? Who keeps track? Or is there no track at all?

CMsqsuared.imissyou.iloveyou.

CcccccccM. I’m.so.sorry.

Very much like you, I’m stubborn. Maybe we’re stubborn in different ways. Either way.

I thought of you tonight. It was the first time in a long time that ive thought of you. I even searched your name on messenger,nothing recent.

For all I know , those messages go back 10-15 years… maybe I’d smile? Maybe I’d cry?

Idk. I don’t even want to.

Know, that is.

Can I start over, by saying how grateful I am that your alive??

Maybe I’m a hypocrite. But never in bad form or intentionally. I love you.

You’re a piece to my puzzle. Actually, a missing piece. How it’s been so long just doesn’t even make sense to me.

We were best friends for years

My longest friend.

I wish you were here to see, and hear SO MANY THINGS .

I love you. I miss you col.

Our babies have grown, my kids aren’t any longer Tiny infants and toddlers. We are no longer each other’s best friends.

And it’s my fault for being so weak.

I’m sorry that I was unsure of who to really trust with what just yet.*

I’m sorry you were backed into a corner.

I’m sorry that you blame me.

Overall I’m just so sorry for not being who you needed me to be, the best friend you needed in me.

I hope you are on top of the world with those boys.

Girls- both of you . I love and miss y’all more than I could show ❤️

ALL my love, and BEST wishes. From a blog you may never see . xoxo

Truly yours,

GymClassheros

***That my friends alone is a lesson – every person you trust – can and should ONLY be trusted with the type of ishhh they can be trusted with – otherwise- you literally cannot trust them. One per genera .

If I kept track of every time I thought about someone…

Saturday August 21, 2021

10:56pm Sitting outside on my “stoop” aka … farmers… porch 🤣😂 – the air changes… the breeze feels stuffy, and all of a sudden it’s not.

I think of you…

I can’t tell you exactly why- it was just like one second you were there, the next you weren’t.

At first an indoor affair came to mind, something that happened in my adult years. Seconds later, a line or 2 into the song, you come to mind. Not the last version of you I saw. The high school, awkward, 8th grade you. Maybe this was a song we listened to together with friends or maybe on one of our blunt cruises..

Next up @ a little past 11pm, still on the same stoop..

I think of you

Not because this song has any consensual significance … but because I’ll never forget you rapping it… https://music.amazon.com/albums/B07V1PSR43?do=play&trackAsin=B07V49TMTN&ref=dm_sh_xxNipT4CFBBOnYFYIt0rHIb8gholy shit… is that The significance??? Is this the same “bands” song from while we were playing drinking games as kids ?

No. I’m wrong.

But at 11:19 …

“ girl run. Run like a track star if mooski ain’t say it better “ – I know booboo , I know coR. & I thank you

Or you’d say something like… ‘ ain’t ni key say it as good as so and so in his last and only hit wonder let me tell you.”

Let me tell you.

A boogie wit a hoodie said it correct when he said “There will never be another you

Always ALWAYS. Mentioning red light special , marvins room, confessions ( let’s say usher period)

“ cuz… let me tell you a little something about MY life a boogie wit a hoodie…

Traditional, Magical, Mythical, lies.

Part 1 in the white lie series more COMING SOON!

How young is too little to understand? How old is old enough to know/ understand?

Advertisements

I have 4 kids now, and I got rules of my own. I never ever wanted to lie to my children.

I recently heard read something on another blog that really got me thinking.. it’s different. I guess this specific person, a fellow blogger of mine, believed, believes, and stated, “Why start off life being lied to?” In regards to, E.B, S.C, T.Fairy ( I think you get what/ WHO I mean…)

Advertisements

There are many contradicting beliefs, perspectives, and just… ways of life, behind those little “white lies” we start off life with. At the same time though, if you did decide that you were not going to tell your child/ren these tales, or that you’re absolutely not going to bring a child into this world, and bring him or her up on these traditional, little “white lies”, then you won’t ever,/ don’t, get to enjoy these magical holiday experiences alongside your growing child. Where is the magic in that? Don’t you think if, say 2 out of 10 parents never ever celebrated those magical holiday beliefs from day 1, that once those children go to school, they could potentially ruin it for all the other believers, the ones who see the magic still? The ones who saw the magic all along?

It’s all in tradition. Maybe gifts for every single tradition, or rather, every single Holiday, is a little bit much, a little excessive, at least I think so, especially with this generation. Maybe we , the adults, the parents, take it to far, maybe we let them believe it for too long?

Advertisements

The constant changing and upgrading gadgets, expensive trinkets, cellphones, Ipads, tablets, Hover Boards, XBOX, PS1,2,3,4 etc – $60 limited supply of HATCHIMALS, ( aka my generation’s take on FURBY’S ) .

Advertisements

This generation, my eldest daughter’s generation, Generation Z is what we’re calling them, may just be the last generation of long-term believers. This generation, or generation Alpha, just may be the last generation of people really believing in the magic of the holidays. I mean, think about it… these kids are constantly on electronics. I don’t even know how my kids believed for so long with all the internet access they’ve got, I really don’t!

Advertisements

They’ve got TikTOK, Streaming TV series, facebook, snapchat, YOUTUBE, Fortnite, ROBLOX, chrome, FIREFOX, safari, ipads, cellphones… omg the list goes on and on and on…. nonetheless, with all that they can see and get to with just 1 click of a tiny button, right in their small hands… I just don’t see how we will have believers for much longer.

After coming across a fellow bloggers post, I went into a sort of rabbit hole into the world of traditional holiday magic, beliefs, non-believers – etc. I was very surprised to find such a large number of parents and children, who had never believed in, or celebrated, those ” magical” people – and they never put it on their children either.

Advertisements

It’s touchy. Again, what about the other kids in school?? You just don’t know. What about the kids that don’t believe or celebrate? Early on in their school career, they are going to wonder why they didn’t get the cool new XBOX under the tree, or why their mom didn’t set up a trap to catch a tiny little green mythical man.

Oh, speaking of that – that is new to me. In my childhood, I had NEVER set up a trap to catch a leprechaun!? Shit that ishh is KIDNAPPING! What are we teaching these kids?! lol I have to laugh.

However, I do and always have, left out a little jelly bean or chocolate poop trail,following behind a foot-shaped powder-made bunny hop trail every Easter?! This is where I’m brought back to the whole gift part of the tradition, and again feeling uneasy.

Advertisements

Another new trend I missed the memo on, apparently, the leprechaun brings gifts too now?! Shhhheeeesh!!! As a matter of fact, in the last 2 years, my children have come home from school on or around that day, asking why we didn’t set up a trap and why the leprechaun didn’t leave them any gifts or candy baskets?!? HUH?!

Twilight zone over here. Maybe it’s just me. Is it just me? What do you think about this?? What do you think about our mythical, magical creatures that we put forth as gift bearers every holiday, to take any or all credit for the gifts we hard-working parents worked hard for? Let me know in the comments!! Maybe ill be back after more delving and rabbit hole jumping 🙂

Celeste M.
Celeste M.

Celeste is a stay-at-home mother of 4 children from Boston, Massachusetts. She has 3 girls, 1 boy, and always has a house full of children! Her significant other of 11 years has consistently worked full time throughout their relationship, allowing Celeste to stay home and raise the children. She loves working with her cricut, sublimating tumblers, t-shirts, and anything else she can find sublimatable!! She is SUPER crafty, and has recently begun to somewhat “master” the skill of making glitter/epoxy tumblers! She began writing a blog in 2010 when she had hit a rough patch and continued to write a post every so often throughout the years. She told her story as it was when it was. Last year she picked back up on blogging and is trying to get out there with her thoughts, and her story. It needs to be told.

One-Time
Monthly
Yearly

Make a one-time donation

Make a monthly donation

Make a yearly donation

Choose an amount

$5.00
$15.00
$100.00
$5.00
$15.00
$100.00
$5.00
$15.00
$100.00

Or enter a custom amount

$

Your contribution is appreciated.

Your contribution is appreciated.

Your contribution is appreciated.

DonateDonate monthlyDonate yearly

His name was Versaje

V.E.R.S.A.J.E CUZ I CAN’T AFFORD IT

V.E.R.S.A.J.E CUZ I CAN’T AFFORD IT

His government, was Cory, but as of late, he went by Versaje, with a J cuz he can’t afford it. ;] His words, not mine. VersaJe was such a fitting name for him if that makes any sense. It suited him so well. We have been friends since around the 8th grade, and he was always GUCCI. That is legit. So the fact that now, at 31 years old, he took on the name, and was, VersaJe… it’s just, perfect.

If you knew him, you loved him. I loved him. I loved every bit of our friendship. As we got older, it was one of the realest, just like him, just like me. We were always raw, real, bold, and just, THE MOST, with each other. Always. We did the most. He was one of my biggest fans, someone who supported me through and through, and I him.

Something happened though, we didn’t keep in touch. We didn’t answer our phones as often, or with as much excitement as we usually did. We didn’t check-in/up on each other at random times anymore. We just lost touch, we stopped blowing up each other’s phone’s with messages, comments, facetime calls, we just stopped. I’m not sure really, I do not understand why, but I am beginning to unearth the lessons that my beloved friend has taught me.

I’ve lost a lot of people lately, too many in fact. So I am used to hearing the cliches that come with loss. This one though, is starting to hit me differently, it’s starting to make more sense to me, in a different way. They say, something along the lines of people being lessons… it’s put in many different ways. Different versions… but the one I’ve come to know, is this next one.

This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is f6d6f7d6-2570-4cef-b558-bff36f426755-6411-000001bf8b90baf0_file.jpg

That is a big pill to swallow. It makes sense though.

Well, I mean, I guess.

Right now though, today, I can say with certainty, that I’d trade in all the lessons I’ve learned from and throughout our friendship, to have Cory here today. There are plenty of other people I can learn lessons from. Why my people? Why so many of my people? Why so many of the good ones?

Cory was a good one. Always. I won’t say that he didn’t have a mean bone in his body, because he did, but you would never know it, unless of course you crossed him or someone he loved.

Our friendship began in Rockland, circa 2002 at ‘party centraL’ ( aka at the Westberg’s house ). We were ” The Crew”, ” The shadies”, CCCCCSQUARED <3 . That is ALL for another story, this one is strictly Cor.

He was, if not THE first, than one of the first boys I ever really kissed. It happened in the ditch. That night my friends and I had gone to the teen center and came back with Cory, Ryan & Chris. We thought we were SO cool. That was the beginning of our friendship, Cory’s and mine.

It’s crazy when I think about it, because sooo much has happened in the last 10 years alone, nevermind the last 20+, and throughout it all, all the addictions, the drama, the losses, the people, the places and the things, the growing we both did and did not do, we still remained friends, CLOSE friends, thoughout all of these years. Not all of us have kept in touch, but all of us have kept in touch with Cory.

Cory was the common denominator in my life. He was always there.

One of Cory’s passions was planning events and bringing the people he loved together. He was always a comedian, and could make anyone laugh with his charismatic wit.

I am grateful to Cory for so many things, so many things that I cannot even begin to list them here. I am the most grateful for the fact that Cory always loved me, no matter what, we could always talk to each other about our shit without judgement or fear, and with PLENTY of jokes — SELFISHHH <3 .

As I try to write about my dear friend, I’m listening to his PodCast on Anchor. I’m struggling a bit through the sadness, so for now, I’ll end here. Im so grateful to be able to hear his voice, and some of his thoughts on ANCHOR- Go listen now – his name is Versaje on Anchor- That’s V-E-R-S-A-J—E J BEFORE THE E CUZ HE CAN’T AFFORD IT!

Rest in the sweetest Peace My Dear Friend Cory Until We Meet Again Angel <3

Mary, Do You Wanna?

Lets talk that.

Photo by Julia Sakelli on Pexels.com

Is it okay for moms to enjoy this?

What about dads?

Do you believe all people alike should be allowed to participate in this legally?

Is it Legal where your from?

Advertisements

I think, edibles, oils, tinctures, things like that, are absolutely incredible. Depending on person, dosage, reason [and or timing?]

What about hassshhhhishh? lol I’ll never forget about this time on Valentines day when I was in high school, my family was gone for the weekend so my older boyfriend [who i ended up being with for 7.5 years], my best friend, and her boyfriend , had accessed ourselves a large, what looked like frozen brownie/old wrapped up brick , of hash from a freezer.

Yup. Was great.

We had no idea what to do with it because, I believe I was about 15?! ahhh 15-17, would’ve stayed if I could. :[

How about the fact that there FACT was no “hey siri” or anything fast like that! No. I had a *beep beep*, aka a friggin Bumble Bee aka indestructible yellow bomb!! Haha … aka a Nextel.

Which, fact was way cooler than these Iphones. I mean… yeah facetime is great and all, but I LOVED beep beeping ( two- waying) People. Always had to have the best one too as I got older, it’s so funny to think about.

Yeah, so once we figured out the best use of this at the time, we made Hash Brownies. For our Valentines Day Desert. It was great.

They tasted BOMB. My house smelt SO GOOD!!

Ahhh, the days. What do ya’ll think?

Photo by Washarapol D BinYo Jundang on Pexels.com
2021-04-20T10:37:00

  days

  hours  minutes  seconds

until

4.20

Advertisements
Advertisements

Premium subscription questions

Okay, silly question.. but from what I’ve read.. I can post whatever I want, in my premium subscription boxes???

Is there a limit to.. the… whatever ?

How about … what content is actually hidden by non- subscribers/ premium / allowed only access?? I’ve become quite interested in this… I just don’t want to go about it incorrectly, or be thinking I’m posting something that is strictly for premium members, yet the whole world wide web can see it!!! hahaha!

SO, if you have any interest in helping me through the ins and outs, legalities, formalities , and such… lol jk but whatever I need to know,

Please reach out to me asap!!! I’ve got some excellent premium content I’m dying to share, I’ll even show you what I mean if you help me!! lol <3 ty!

*mania*

An introduction of why I’m here.

Hi, I’m The Truth Mommy!! I’m trying to get out there and be known for giving , “the truth about momming”, and everything else I know or can tell you. I’m currently working on/towards a book.. I’m Here to journal my good days and bad days and everything in between. Hey, don’t blame me if you don’t like it, I’m just telling it like it is.
Telling it like it is, regardless of judgement. I am a recovering addict. My recovery Date is November 1- 2015. I didn’t do it without help, support, medical support, motivation, tears, sweat, pain, family support, and my amazing husband.
For years I thought I had it under control, and could get or just stay better (whether ‘better’ meant my sobriety, or my mental health depended on the time) for, my kids. Always trying to fight, for my kids. Doing everything I could, everything I was supposed to do, to bring my family home. Get better for them all, never for myself. It never seemed to be enough, but that wasn’t the case- the case was, I just wasn’t afraid enough, it wasn’t real enough, I didn’t care about me, or what happened to me anymore. No one else did, why should I? The 2 men in my life (baby daddies if you will), that were supposed to be a part of my support system, part of my family, had completely destroyed my self esteem. They both took advantage of my vulnerability, they fed off of it. I would move mountains for both of them, I’d jump when they said jump. HELL They had my children, what was I supposed to do?? That my friends, is a story for a different post. Not today Satan. This post is about ME. I can’t won’t distract myself with that type of pain, going back to that will ruin more than my entire day. I live with so many resentments. I cannot even begin.

So, here is where this story really begins, this is going to lead me to where I am today. The day I woke up, totally Naked, alone, head hanging over one corner of my bed, not even aware of the date or time, SO confused, my house completely ransacked, all of my hidden belongings, including my rent money, drugs, and jewelry were GONE. My dresser COVERED in confectionery sugar.
That was on Halloween, in 2015. Halloween is supposed to be a fun day, a special day, a day for trick or treating, dressing up silly, plowing candy, and it just so happens that it is one of my babies Birthday’s, 10/31. That was the day I knew I had had enough, I had to stop. I had to live. I was alive, and I had NO idea how. Eventually, that same day, I put the pieces together, looking through my phone, my laptop ( at the time my life line), making phone calls, frantically searching my house, wracking my brain. I remembered exactly what happened. I know exactly what happened. All I can say on here, with honesty, is that MY ANGEL was with me. He must have been because I was literally left in my apartment to die. People had been with me, people had used with me, and those same exact people had robbed me, and then left me. Those people, I grew up with. Those people, 1 of them, I had saved before with narcan. And they left me in my bed, thinking I was DEAD… to die. They were the ones who were always afraid and would run. At least 1 of them had been there for all 5 ODS that I had saved at my house. I never let or left anyone to die. F$#@ YOU for that. Later one that day, I got myself together, got myself “right”, and then made a bunch of important phone calls. I was retracing the steps I had taken the last time. The time I had 2 and a half fucking years of sobriety. The time I could say with what I thought to be my full honesty, I do not know how I EVER did that, I could NEVER EVER do it again. I could’ve sworn that I was afraid enough to never go back. That I had lost enough, to never want to go back. The 2.5 years had only come to an abrupt end earlier that year, I want to say May, is when I relapsed, but that wouldn’t be the full truth. I had relapsed long before I began using that way again. This time though, I was DONE. So here I am, more than 5 years sober. I won’t say I am cured, I will say, I wanted to live and be there for my children, and I AM.

I have more stories to tell than you could imagine. I’ve been to Prison, (not jail), multiple times, for petty things like probation violations etc. I’ll never forget how scared I was in the back of that van the very first time. My first 30 days. I never could have imaged how many more times I’d be in that same situation again, or that each stay would become longer and longer, and take more and more from me and my family. I had a baby in jail, and didn’t get to see my baby until a few months later. Can you imagine that? I held that baby for 2 days, no one was going to take that time from me, no matter how hard they tried. I am only human, not a monster. Humans should never treat others the way I was treated. Shackled to a bed being scorned and threatened for breast feeding my baby? It was inhumane.

If you’ve come this far, before you form any negative opinion of me personally, if that’s where your thoughts are, keep reading first, and you may just see things from a perspective you might think you’d never see, or even want to understand.

MIND YOU this; the day I was officially released , sometime in late November, My PO wanted me to go back to prison, she fought tooth and nail for me to finish up another 6 month bid, for NOTHING. Once my lawyer presented the LOADS and LOADS of paperwork she had accumulated and put together for my case; all of my negative tests, the meconium sample, and the inaccuracy proven of the quick cups they used, (the ONLY one that picked up a food grade of positive), once she finished her statement, The Judge, a different one from who sent me there, an understanding man with kind eyes, pretty much told my PO off, looked over to me, and with SUCH sincerity, apologized to me. he said I NEVER should have been forced to have my BABY in prison, and told my PO that holding me was completely inappropriate, and unnecessary , as I had IMMEDIATLY , willingly PAID FOR & took hair follicle test, multiple urine’s at multiple labs, and even the hospital records that showed my baby and I tested positive for NOTHING!!!!! OH AND!! This is great, my due date was 11/1/13, my one and only fail was on 10/12/13, I was sent back 10/18/13, ANDDD MY COURT DATE WAS 10/31/13 . So, yes, as you can probably imagine, at midnight on 10/31, I laid on my bottom bunk in my cell, praying to GOD to PLEASE not let me have this baby right then and there, PLEASE just get me to the courthouse tomorrow. 7 years later and I haven’t spoken of this, but I remember it all SO clearly right now, like it was MUCH more recently than that. I remember envisioning what would happen if I was in front of the judge and dramatically went into labor, or in the patty wagon on the long ride there. I was so afraid. I felt pain. Pain I did not remember, but yet I knew what was happening. So I started watching as the guards did their rounds… every 15 minutes. My contractions were 15 minutes apart. At 12:45, I gave in, while a C.O was rounding, I stood at my cell door’s tiny window waiting. When the flashlight hit my eyes, I said… ” ‘I’m in labor” , he replied, ” Are you pregnant?”, than, ” Are you sure its labor?”.

I spent 6 months in prison, pregnant. It was not my first rodeo BUT pregnant?? I went in February 23rd, and on April 20th, I was told I was pregnant. So that was fun.

After wrapping up those 6 months, I was released directly from there July 1, was out and happy , with a DCF worker and PO up my butt, I was doing everything right, everything they told me to do, I did it and more. Including calling a number for a color, ( pink), which was called for 2 random urine’s a week, AA/NA meetings, working on putting my family back together,and Let me just say – WE WERE KICKING ASS!! Hell we were on the road to getting our family back., AND add a 3rd addition. I’d been sober for 10 months, called my color super late one day as I was laying in bed stuffing my face with caramel apples and breakfast sandwiches. We had no car, but borrowed one, I did my thing, went to walk away and BAM I fail the quick cup. I seriously thought my PO was JOKING because we were just talking about how AMAZING everything was going!!

The following days and weeks were HORRIFIC. I was losing my mind. How the FUCK could this happen? How the FUCK did I fail this one urine? I went to the hospital and gave a supervised urine in the ER, and another an hour later at the lab. I even offered a hair follicle test in which my PO said I’d have to wait at least 7 days. So i did JUST that!! 8 days later, I went and paid $85 for a full panel hair follicle test. The results didn’t come in until I was gone, but it was ONLY the quick cup I failed. Anyways, after being tortured,tormented, and followed, by my PO with police, DCF, & just trying to prove myself innocent, for 2 weeks, I am sent back to prison, after I did everything possible to prove my innocence.

Listen, I’ve been pregnant multiple times, and not ONCE did I EVER use drugs while pregnant. NEVER. However, at my Wednesday night meeting, the night before that power monster of a day ,(10/12), I had devoured 3 everything bagels , and had 1 on the ride to do my urine. BRO, I WAS 8.5 MONTHS PREGNANT and HUNGRYYY!!! NOW LISTEN!! I WOULD NEVER EVER HAVE THOUGHT THAT what happened would happen!! I have always called it a myth, ALWAYS called bullshit on it.
It was actually the lab tech that did my hair follicle test who offered this information to me. Poppy seeds. Yep mmmhmm I KNOW!!

My PO wouldn’t ever believe that, she didn’t. My counselor, my doctor and my pysche , all came up with that same answer, with no persuasion or even HINTS…… Poppy seeds. Food Grade levels can show up on lab tests, they are very VERY small numbers because the food has minute traces, a quick cup can pick up the food grade levels, HOWEVER, it can NOT decipher the actual level/ amount ingested.

TELL ME, how could that whole situation NOT HAVE fucked me up mentally??
How could it not have destroyed me and made me and angry, violent, mean person?

How am I not one big walking ball of HATRED?


Well, it did for a while, and I was for a bit. SO that was that.

Now, here I am today, with my family..
“Stronger than ever, Beating all the odds that have been against me. ” As I suppose they say. There are so many times I dwell on my past, and my present. I always wonder…

Yes, there was a time where I was a bit of a shitbag, & I was living a bad life… making bad choices.
Yes I made the decision to use solely on my own at 19– I chose the places I went to and the people I hung out with. I made the decisions that I made on my own. I promise though, I never knew they would lead me to where I’ve been, and what I’ve gone though.
I never knew I would become so addicted. I never knew that drugs would eventually destroy my life, yet leave me here to suffer.
A lot of my most important friends and relationships, are dead. I’ve said goodbye to FAR too many people I love.

So theres that story. I’m ready to tell it and I want it to be heard, and known about. So share it. Tell me your thoughts. Does my story sound familiar, or are you reading this is complete awe, because you thought this sort of thing only happens on Netflix, HBO, only on TV.
A lot of people may blame me, call me a terrible person, shame shame shame – but today,
I can let that shit roll right off my shoulders. You could not walk a mile in my shoes at my age, and I probably couldn’t walk a mile in yours either.

Advertisements
One-Time
Monthly
Yearly

Make a one-time donation

Make a monthly donation

Make a yearly donation

Choose an amount

$5.00
$15.00
$100.00
$5.00
$15.00
$100.00
$5.00
$15.00
$100.00

Or enter a custom amount

$

Your contribution is appreciated.

Your contribution is appreciated.

Your contribution is appreciated.

DonateDonate monthlyDonate yearly