Random thoughts and musings of a single Mom striving to follow dreams and find pure BLISS.

Living in Paradise

So last week I made the first portion of "the move" this past weekend.

It has been a week and I can safely say that I have never felt more relaxed, or at least I don't remember a time when I was more relax and comfy. I really tought there would be a big adjustment period or that perhaps he would change his mind after living with us.

As it turns out, he is even more amazing than I knew. Because of his calm nature and the fact he is a phenom Dad, my kids are sleeping in their beds each night without complaint AND taking naps each afternoon. (Who are these kids and where did mine go. I don't really want them back, I just want to keep tabs on the little critters.)

There have been so many times when I have fought bursting into tears. Not because I'm sad, but because I can't believe I am so lucky. My kids are curling up with him and calling him Daddy (or Popi thanks to Dora) and his son is calling me Mom. Just thinking about them all running around on the pitch running and kicking the soccer ball around brings tears to my eyes right now. It's so natural and so amazing...there are no words, guys. There just aren't.

Anyway, I have to admit that it's going so well, the dark part of my brain has begun to try to sabotage me. At night, as this beautiful man is cuddled up next to me, holding my hand in his sleep, it begins to whisper, "Are you kidding me? How can this man, who is so sweet and patient and caring (not to mention hawt!) actually be in love with you? Do you remember being married to the "good enough"guy that decided that sex with other people was perfectly ok? What are you thinking girl?!"

Now I am lucky enough to be able to discuss this with people who can smack the darkness out of my head and then there is the lightness I feel when I tell MAT my fears. Having gone through a nasty break up with D's mom he understands, but there is something about being Colombian that makes me take things in stride and not dwell on the darkness in life. Ok, it might be genetic, but I still think it might be cultural.

I am determined to take each day and appreciate the hell out of it. 

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