Sometimes I miss my babies with an all consuming rush. Today it was in the Toronto airport.
I’m usually pretty good at shoving it down. That’s one of the reasons I travel when I can. I also say yes to things I used to say no to... I lived in a box for too long. Now I say yes.
I spent an awesome 5 days in Chicago with family. It’ was an amazing trip full of sights and food and fun. There were many many times I missed the kids but I shoved it deep down like I always do. For some reason, in the airport on the way home I had to swallow it back.
Family trips when we were 4 were never good. They were often really awful. My ex hates travel, we never could afford it, the kids would fight etc but now I want them to see everything. See that there is a great big world outside of their little suburban bubble. I want to see it too.
As always, I hate that I traded half their lives for our freedom. I hate that I miss so much. I have to turn it around into a positive thing if I’m to survive the next 10+ years but I don’t know how to do that yet.
So I take trips. I distract. I’m sure there are many who think I go out and drink and party and take trips bc I’m a shitty mom. Because I’m living like I’m single again and being irresponsible. I’ve blogged about this before... I don’t mind being alone. I love it sometimes. I love to read and think and have downtime.
But the 7 day stretches they are gone are deafening in their silence. I take trips to distract. To experience the life I never have... but there are lots of times in the midst of these amazing times that I would trade it all for more quiet time at home with them.
Wednesday, July 24, 2019
Friday, March 29, 2019
Spring Breaking
My babies and I went to the mountains with friends for spring break. My babies have been having a hard time. Just when things started to level out, there was a change. Another change for their little brains to adapt to. More loss. More sadness.
I am proud that my babies fall apart with me. I am happy that when I say “you know you’re the most important things in my life, right?” That they reply with an exasperated “yes mom. We know!” They know I love them. They know in their bones that I would do anything for them. So they can fall apart with me. They trust me to take care of them, and know I will love them no matter what.
But I am exhausted. I am not prefect by any stretch. I yell. I cry. I guilt. I have expectations that aren’t fair... but I try my hardest to be calm in the midst of their storm. When my son is punching himself and screaming, I try to remember that I need to be solid. I can cry after- and I always do. During the screaming or crying or raging, they don’t need me to fall apart too. They need me to be port in the storm. And it’s hard.
This week we had so much fun. We hiked and stared at mountains. We talked about how small we are and how we needed to keep going when things got hard and how just because we love something, doesn’t mean we should stay. We swam and laughed and ate and made tons of memories. My son took it upon himself to be extra kind to a younger kid and took extra responsibility without being asked. He also tormented his sister and screamed at me. My baby girl looked at me with tears in her eyes and asked me questions beyond her 7 years. We snuggled and talked about what the future would look like for our family. There were light times and there were heavy times.
I am exhausted. Dealing with huge emotions from small people is truly draining. I would have it no other way, but I am spent. I am grateful for the time with them. I am full of love and gratitude to have the days off to focus on them. I am happy that my house is a mess and I am out of money because we did so much and didn’t waste time on housework. My phone is full of pictures I will treasure and my Brain is full of happy memories.
Still, I am spent. I need a break from spring break.
I try to be very proactive with my self care. Exercise, eat well, wine mostly in moderation. Good support network, lots of hugs. Sometimes though, that doesn’t cut it. I have learned throughout the years that sometimes I need to totally withdraw. Run alone. Sit alone. Read. Write. With no demands, no one else’s timeline or demands or expectations. Sometimes it takes 2 hours and sometimes it take 2 days. Find out what it takes for you. Maybe it’s lots of people, maybe not. Either way, do it. Before you fall apart, not after
I am proud that my babies fall apart with me. I am happy that when I say “you know you’re the most important things in my life, right?” That they reply with an exasperated “yes mom. We know!” They know I love them. They know in their bones that I would do anything for them. So they can fall apart with me. They trust me to take care of them, and know I will love them no matter what.
But I am exhausted. I am not prefect by any stretch. I yell. I cry. I guilt. I have expectations that aren’t fair... but I try my hardest to be calm in the midst of their storm. When my son is punching himself and screaming, I try to remember that I need to be solid. I can cry after- and I always do. During the screaming or crying or raging, they don’t need me to fall apart too. They need me to be port in the storm. And it’s hard.
This week we had so much fun. We hiked and stared at mountains. We talked about how small we are and how we needed to keep going when things got hard and how just because we love something, doesn’t mean we should stay. We swam and laughed and ate and made tons of memories. My son took it upon himself to be extra kind to a younger kid and took extra responsibility without being asked. He also tormented his sister and screamed at me. My baby girl looked at me with tears in her eyes and asked me questions beyond her 7 years. We snuggled and talked about what the future would look like for our family. There were light times and there were heavy times.
I am exhausted. Dealing with huge emotions from small people is truly draining. I would have it no other way, but I am spent. I am grateful for the time with them. I am full of love and gratitude to have the days off to focus on them. I am happy that my house is a mess and I am out of money because we did so much and didn’t waste time on housework. My phone is full of pictures I will treasure and my Brain is full of happy memories.
Still, I am spent. I need a break from spring break.
I try to be very proactive with my self care. Exercise, eat well, wine mostly in moderation. Good support network, lots of hugs. Sometimes though, that doesn’t cut it. I have learned throughout the years that sometimes I need to totally withdraw. Run alone. Sit alone. Read. Write. With no demands, no one else’s timeline or demands or expectations. Sometimes it takes 2 hours and sometimes it take 2 days. Find out what it takes for you. Maybe it’s lots of people, maybe not. Either way, do it. Before you fall apart, not after
Thursday, March 14, 2019
Check Yo' Self
I started a number of blogs this week. I couldn't organize the words, but I will try again.
A lady I work with is going through hell. Her words. She is experiencing pain I cannot imagine. I don't know her well but when she speaks about her hell, it is with raw pain. The kind that makes an entire room hold their breath and all eyes fill with tears. I do not have to know her well to know that I am not sure I would make it out of that pain.
I have been trying to think of some small thing I could do to lift her spirits, even just a little. I like to bring people treats or tea (yeah yeah it's mostly food, but I have blogged before about feeding people being my love language) or a note... but I don't know her well and she is very, very private.
Then my own emotions took over and I forgot.
I had a tough day this week. The wave of grief came back.... out of nowhere and knocked me on my ass. It was the kind of sad that makes it hard to stand up out of a chair. I could feel it on my face. I could feel the heaviness of my feelings settling into my body. People around me could see it- I don't hide anything well. I felt the weight of all my children's emotions and felt the weight of all my decisions in the past 18 months. I felt it all. I cried a lot. I sat in silence because I didn't have the words. I slept.
In my own emotions, I forgot that the lady I work with was overwhelmed by this every single day. While I was devastated by missing my kids every second week, she would never see hers again.
Today I got to hug my babies and go to work. I got to kiss them good night last night and take them on a date. This morning, I was back to regular me. Regular me likes mornings and smiles and sings to herself pretty constantly. I do not have a perfect life but there is joy in every aspect of it. I was back to finding that joy instead of focusing on what brought me sadness.
I said good morning to all my colleagues like always. I said "Happy Pi Day!" to this particular lady and we had a conversation about what it was and how much I like pie. Actual pie not math.
Just a regular, every day conversation.
As I was copying boring math sheets for my students, singing away to myself like always, she came back into the work room. She hugged me. I was surprised so I sadly didn't squish her back with all my love like I should have.
She said she was glad I was there. That I brought smiles and cheerfulness into her days.
I almost cried. This amazing human who was dealing with SO much took time to tell me that I had impacted her. I certainly wasn't trying to (but I wish I tried harder). I was so wrapped up in my own shit this week that I didn't make her cookies or bring her tea or a book or a note. Her shit is next level. Mine is still real and painful and the grief comes and goes... but it needs to be put into perspective.
You never know who's life you are touching. Cheezy painted wall sign, but true. I don't mean we shouldn't experience all the emotions or pretend we aren't how we are... but you never know when a small kindness will impact someone else.
Now I am going to go bake her some cookies.
A lady I work with is going through hell. Her words. She is experiencing pain I cannot imagine. I don't know her well but when she speaks about her hell, it is with raw pain. The kind that makes an entire room hold their breath and all eyes fill with tears. I do not have to know her well to know that I am not sure I would make it out of that pain.
I have been trying to think of some small thing I could do to lift her spirits, even just a little. I like to bring people treats or tea (yeah yeah it's mostly food, but I have blogged before about feeding people being my love language) or a note... but I don't know her well and she is very, very private.
Then my own emotions took over and I forgot.
I had a tough day this week. The wave of grief came back.... out of nowhere and knocked me on my ass. It was the kind of sad that makes it hard to stand up out of a chair. I could feel it on my face. I could feel the heaviness of my feelings settling into my body. People around me could see it- I don't hide anything well. I felt the weight of all my children's emotions and felt the weight of all my decisions in the past 18 months. I felt it all. I cried a lot. I sat in silence because I didn't have the words. I slept.
In my own emotions, I forgot that the lady I work with was overwhelmed by this every single day. While I was devastated by missing my kids every second week, she would never see hers again.
Today I got to hug my babies and go to work. I got to kiss them good night last night and take them on a date. This morning, I was back to regular me. Regular me likes mornings and smiles and sings to herself pretty constantly. I do not have a perfect life but there is joy in every aspect of it. I was back to finding that joy instead of focusing on what brought me sadness.
I said good morning to all my colleagues like always. I said "Happy Pi Day!" to this particular lady and we had a conversation about what it was and how much I like pie. Actual pie not math.
Just a regular, every day conversation.
As I was copying boring math sheets for my students, singing away to myself like always, she came back into the work room. She hugged me. I was surprised so I sadly didn't squish her back with all my love like I should have.
She said she was glad I was there. That I brought smiles and cheerfulness into her days.
I almost cried. This amazing human who was dealing with SO much took time to tell me that I had impacted her. I certainly wasn't trying to (but I wish I tried harder). I was so wrapped up in my own shit this week that I didn't make her cookies or bring her tea or a book or a note. Her shit is next level. Mine is still real and painful and the grief comes and goes... but it needs to be put into perspective.
You never know who's life you are touching. Cheezy painted wall sign, but true. I don't mean we shouldn't experience all the emotions or pretend we aren't how we are... but you never know when a small kindness will impact someone else.
Now I am going to go bake her some cookies.
Thursday, February 21, 2019
The Frog
I use the Frog analogy all the time. You know, the one about the frog in boiling water. If you throw him into boiling water, he will jump out. Duh. BUT if you put him in cool water and very, very slowly turn up the heat, he will boil alive.
I was the frog for years. The heat turned up so slowly I didn't even notice that I was being boiled alive. That I was crumbling underneath the weight of life. That everything around me was so toxic it was deadly.
I hate the word "toxic". It's such a ridiculous buzzword at this point. "Toxic narcissists" everywheres! Lets all armchair diagnose everyone else!
I will, however, unapologetically remove any and all toxicity from my life. If anyone feels I am toxic to them, please remove me as well.
I say that not because I don't care about people but because I know that we can unwittingly become bad for others.
Maybe this is my naivety. Maybe this is what is fundamentally wrong with my life. My belief that people (for the most part as I don't know a lot of sociopaths that I am aware of) are generally just doing the best they can. That people don't set out to destroy anyone else. That people are generally just trying to find their way and inadvertently hurt others on the way there. I know I have. I know I have also put the weight of my expectations on other people and have hurt them unfairly. I didn't do it intentionally, but unintentional pain still hurts the same.
Jump out of the damn water. Sometimes it's simple and sometimes it's life altering and shattering. Do it anyways. Short term destruction is better than long term soul crushing. You can do anything for a year. Or for a month. Or for how long it takes. You are strong enough. Trust me. I lived through the last 18 months- you can do it too.
I was the frog for years. The heat turned up so slowly I didn't even notice that I was being boiled alive. That I was crumbling underneath the weight of life. That everything around me was so toxic it was deadly.
I hate the word "toxic". It's such a ridiculous buzzword at this point. "Toxic narcissists" everywheres! Lets all armchair diagnose everyone else!
I will, however, unapologetically remove any and all toxicity from my life. If anyone feels I am toxic to them, please remove me as well.
I say that not because I don't care about people but because I know that we can unwittingly become bad for others.
Maybe this is my naivety. Maybe this is what is fundamentally wrong with my life. My belief that people (for the most part as I don't know a lot of sociopaths that I am aware of) are generally just doing the best they can. That people don't set out to destroy anyone else. That people are generally just trying to find their way and inadvertently hurt others on the way there. I know I have. I know I have also put the weight of my expectations on other people and have hurt them unfairly. I didn't do it intentionally, but unintentional pain still hurts the same.
Jump out of the damn water. Sometimes it's simple and sometimes it's life altering and shattering. Do it anyways. Short term destruction is better than long term soul crushing. You can do anything for a year. Or for a month. Or for how long it takes. You are strong enough. Trust me. I lived through the last 18 months- you can do it too.
Saturday, January 12, 2019
Look at this photograph...
I hope from reading the title, you have an old Nickleback song stuck in your head now too.
I post zillions of pictures. It's a running joke with some of my friends and I am sure many more have the same opinion without verbalizing it. I am aware I post many, many pictures.
Maybe I don't need to post them all. Maybe I could keep them to myself in my phone and not publically announce all things. Maybe. Maybe others opinons don't freaking matter to me and I'll post whatever I want.
I don't post pictures to point out how lonely anyone else's life is. I don't post pictures to make my life look shiny and flawless. I think I have been pretty open about my many struggles. I don't post pictures to make anyone feel excluded. I certainly don't post pictures as a passive aggressive way of reminding people that they weren't invited so STOP. Read the 4 Agreements. Nothing I do is because of ANY of you.
I post pictures because I have a very terrible and very selective memory. I post pictures because I forget. When my babies were born I thought I would remember every first. Every first word, step, tooth lost, hilarious sentence, hug, birthday. Truth is, I remember very few moments.
When I am low, you'd think I would remember the amazing friendship and family supports I have. I don't. I feel completely and utterly alone.
I love Facebook memories. I love when pictures of my littles come up and I see all the stuff we've done. Some of it hurts like hell because they will never be little again and we will never be the same family of 4 again. Painful or not, they are an important part of my life and their lives. I love showing the kids the old pictures and talking about the memories both good and bad. The pictures remind me that even though I traded half their time for all of our sanity, I am still their mom. I am still the one who rocked them all night; I am the one who planned birthdays and holidays; I am the one who was always, always there. I feel far away from them sometimes, and it brings me back.
I love looking through old albums and remembering. It grounds me and reminds me of all I have, not just of all I have lost. I love looking at hilarious nights with friends. It makes me motivated to plan new ones, especially when I feel like hiding in my bed with the blankets pulled over my head.
We all need those down times... I call it "turtling". I pull away from everyone and hide in my shell. I think it's essential for my grief process. I also know if it lasts too long, I am harder to pull back.
I almost hate this blog. I partly feel like I am whining and justifying and giving attention to the immature, gossipy bullshit that follows everyone. I hate justifying. It is my automatic response when someone has an opinion about me. It is my automatic need to have everyone understand and like all my decisions. It is a part of me I am consciously trying to change but struggle to do so. Regardless, I will post it because it's what I do (insert my favorite shrug emoji here).
I have reflected on my own response to what friends post. So what if someone posts a bunch of selfies? I don't need to have an opinion. So what is someone posts 85 pictures of their dog (please do btw. I miss having one). I don't need to have an opinon about other people. I can unfollow. Delete. Move on. Or just realize it's all their choice and has NOTHING to do with me.
I post zillions of pictures. It's a running joke with some of my friends and I am sure many more have the same opinion without verbalizing it. I am aware I post many, many pictures.
Maybe I don't need to post them all. Maybe I could keep them to myself in my phone and not publically announce all things. Maybe. Maybe others opinons don't freaking matter to me and I'll post whatever I want.
I don't post pictures to point out how lonely anyone else's life is. I don't post pictures to make my life look shiny and flawless. I think I have been pretty open about my many struggles. I don't post pictures to make anyone feel excluded. I certainly don't post pictures as a passive aggressive way of reminding people that they weren't invited so STOP. Read the 4 Agreements. Nothing I do is because of ANY of you.
I post pictures because I have a very terrible and very selective memory. I post pictures because I forget. When my babies were born I thought I would remember every first. Every first word, step, tooth lost, hilarious sentence, hug, birthday. Truth is, I remember very few moments.
When I am low, you'd think I would remember the amazing friendship and family supports I have. I don't. I feel completely and utterly alone.
I love Facebook memories. I love when pictures of my littles come up and I see all the stuff we've done. Some of it hurts like hell because they will never be little again and we will never be the same family of 4 again. Painful or not, they are an important part of my life and their lives. I love showing the kids the old pictures and talking about the memories both good and bad. The pictures remind me that even though I traded half their time for all of our sanity, I am still their mom. I am still the one who rocked them all night; I am the one who planned birthdays and holidays; I am the one who was always, always there. I feel far away from them sometimes, and it brings me back.
I love looking through old albums and remembering. It grounds me and reminds me of all I have, not just of all I have lost. I love looking at hilarious nights with friends. It makes me motivated to plan new ones, especially when I feel like hiding in my bed with the blankets pulled over my head.
We all need those down times... I call it "turtling". I pull away from everyone and hide in my shell. I think it's essential for my grief process. I also know if it lasts too long, I am harder to pull back.
I almost hate this blog. I partly feel like I am whining and justifying and giving attention to the immature, gossipy bullshit that follows everyone. I hate justifying. It is my automatic response when someone has an opinion about me. It is my automatic need to have everyone understand and like all my decisions. It is a part of me I am consciously trying to change but struggle to do so. Regardless, I will post it because it's what I do (insert my favorite shrug emoji here).
I have reflected on my own response to what friends post. So what if someone posts a bunch of selfies? I don't need to have an opinion. So what is someone posts 85 pictures of their dog (please do btw. I miss having one). I don't need to have an opinon about other people. I can unfollow. Delete. Move on. Or just realize it's all their choice and has NOTHING to do with me.
Friday, November 16, 2018
40th
I'm 40 this week.
40. I get age is nothing but a number and 40 is the new 20 and it's as old as you feel and all that other bullshit people say when you express how shocked you are that you're acutally an adult age.
40. This is not where I thought I would be at 40. I have a great life. I know. I actually don't think 40 will be as brutal as 39 was (knock on wood), so I am ok with it.
For some reason, the 9s are more challenging for me. At 19, at 29 and at 39 I made some major life changes. It's like the impending decade birthday wakes me the hell up and do some painful things before it's too late. That said, I hope my 40th year is much quieter and more calm than the 39th. My soul is tired.
I’ve learned many lessons in my many years. Some took a long ass time to wrap my slow brain around; some very painfully fast.
40. I get age is nothing but a number and 40 is the new 20 and it's as old as you feel and all that other bullshit people say when you express how shocked you are that you're acutally an adult age.
40. This is not where I thought I would be at 40. I have a great life. I know. I actually don't think 40 will be as brutal as 39 was (knock on wood), so I am ok with it.
For some reason, the 9s are more challenging for me. At 19, at 29 and at 39 I made some major life changes. It's like the impending decade birthday wakes me the hell up and do some painful things before it's too late. That said, I hope my 40th year is much quieter and more calm than the 39th. My soul is tired.
I’ve learned many lessons in my many years. Some took a long ass time to wrap my slow brain around; some very painfully fast.
The most important lesson I have learned this year is that I don’t know shit. I don’t know anything about anything. I certainly have a lot of opinions but I certainly have much to learn.
I have met many people who have helped me learn these lessons. While I love some of them very much our time was short.
Random list of realizations and lessons from my many, many years:
-I will put cream in my coffee. For many years I convinced myself I liked it black. I don’t. I like consuming less calories so I brainwashed myself. I will now always put cream in my coffee and eat a small bit of really good chocolate every single day. Not waxy chocolate, but really good dark stuff that I eat in actual bites instead of shoving the whole thing in my mouth.
-To respond emotionally gives your power away. I know I didn't say that first- Bruce Lee maybe? No response is a powerful one and so is taking time to formulate a logical response. This lesson has transformed many relationships for me and for that I will always be grateful. "Logic" and "reason" don't come naturally to me in times of emotion (which, lets face it, for me is pretty much ALL the time), so this is a big one. When I respond without thought it tends to become very explosive and I regret it in the long run. I have destroyed relationships in the past because of my responses. Even if I just pause to take a breath... it changes everything.
-Not everyone you love is meant to stay. It doesn’t minimize the level of care or the impact on your life but sometimes it just isn’t the right time. Or the right circumstances. Or there are too many obstacles. Or the person you thought you loved simply doesn't exist anywhere but in your mind. There is grace in letting go. There is relief in releasing a chokehold on a love that you cannot force.
- I will say no. It might take me some time to realize (as my default is to agree and do what makes other people happy), but I will say no. No to going out, no to adding things to my plate, no to making everything from scratch, no to my children if I need to, no to everyone. I will draw boundaries and they may result in some broken relationships. For too many years, I said yes and I broke under the weight of those expectations and agreements.
-Expanded from above- I will say no to my children. This is a big one for me. If I have reached my limit of physical touch, I will reassure them and then peel them off me. I will sacrifice many things for them but not myself. This is a constant balancing act and probably my hardest goal. I will make sure their needs are met but they need to realize that I am also a person with needs. That means sometimes Mommy needs to go to the gym and sometimes Mommy needs a time out. I cannot pour from an empty cup- but that said I will firstly make sure their needs are met. Their behaviour is a direct correlation of how well I am meeting those needs.
- I will honour what serves me. I realize that my general attitude in the morning isn’t great if I am rushed, so I will get up an hour earlier to drink coffee, stretch and organize my brain AND not talk to anyone. I will schedule exercise into my day because I become an anxious mess without it (and I’m 40 now so it requires more work to keep things where I want them to be). I will not sacrifice self care for busyness. This is easier when I do the above ^ and say no when my plate is full. This is easier when I plan and prepare meals and make lunches in advance and do what I know I need to do rather than sitting binge watching Netflix.
-I will sit and binge watch Netflix. In the summer I started to schedule lazy days. I realize this sounds insane. Yep I am such a Type A planner I need to schedule my laziness. It takes work for me to do
NOTHING. I started to pick every second Sunday when my kids were at their dads (in preparation for NFL season to start) and planned to do nothing. For me, a lazy day means a long workout, a starbucks run, and a cheeseburger in bed.
-I will not let events change who I am, no matter how painful. I will not allow hurts to make me hard. I am someone who loves a lot and won't change that to avoid pain. Yes it might hurt like a bitch, but it won't break me. I have also learned that. The reward is greater than the risk, and I will ALWAYS take the risk. I will love first, I will love most and I will love greatest and I won't pretend I don't. This goes for all relationships, not just romantic ones.
-I will cherish my people. It took me a long time to find my people. I neglected them for a long time too.. but because they are my people, they understood and stuck around. No matter what happens, I will protect my fierce lady friendships. I value relationships more than anything else in my life and will prioritize them before anything else (I count my relationship with my children there before you freak out and think I am neglecting them to drink wine with my lady friends. Not what I meant at all). We have a First Wives Club that has an agreement to be there. That's it. We drunkenly agreed to BE THERE no matter what. I will drop anything, except my kids, to be there. As they have for me. It takes a big man to understand this.
That's it. That's enough.
Happy 40th to me. Maybe I have 40 more... maybe not. I won't spend the remaining years waiting, or wondering, or regretting.
Random list of realizations and lessons from my many, many years:
-I will put cream in my coffee. For many years I convinced myself I liked it black. I don’t. I like consuming less calories so I brainwashed myself. I will now always put cream in my coffee and eat a small bit of really good chocolate every single day. Not waxy chocolate, but really good dark stuff that I eat in actual bites instead of shoving the whole thing in my mouth.
-To respond emotionally gives your power away. I know I didn't say that first- Bruce Lee maybe? No response is a powerful one and so is taking time to formulate a logical response. This lesson has transformed many relationships for me and for that I will always be grateful. "Logic" and "reason" don't come naturally to me in times of emotion (which, lets face it, for me is pretty much ALL the time), so this is a big one. When I respond without thought it tends to become very explosive and I regret it in the long run. I have destroyed relationships in the past because of my responses. Even if I just pause to take a breath... it changes everything.
-Not everyone you love is meant to stay. It doesn’t minimize the level of care or the impact on your life but sometimes it just isn’t the right time. Or the right circumstances. Or there are too many obstacles. Or the person you thought you loved simply doesn't exist anywhere but in your mind. There is grace in letting go. There is relief in releasing a chokehold on a love that you cannot force.
- I will say no. It might take me some time to realize (as my default is to agree and do what makes other people happy), but I will say no. No to going out, no to adding things to my plate, no to making everything from scratch, no to my children if I need to, no to everyone. I will draw boundaries and they may result in some broken relationships. For too many years, I said yes and I broke under the weight of those expectations and agreements.
-Expanded from above- I will say no to my children. This is a big one for me. If I have reached my limit of physical touch, I will reassure them and then peel them off me. I will sacrifice many things for them but not myself. This is a constant balancing act and probably my hardest goal. I will make sure their needs are met but they need to realize that I am also a person with needs. That means sometimes Mommy needs to go to the gym and sometimes Mommy needs a time out. I cannot pour from an empty cup- but that said I will firstly make sure their needs are met. Their behaviour is a direct correlation of how well I am meeting those needs.
- I will honour what serves me. I realize that my general attitude in the morning isn’t great if I am rushed, so I will get up an hour earlier to drink coffee, stretch and organize my brain AND not talk to anyone. I will schedule exercise into my day because I become an anxious mess without it (and I’m 40 now so it requires more work to keep things where I want them to be). I will not sacrifice self care for busyness. This is easier when I do the above ^ and say no when my plate is full. This is easier when I plan and prepare meals and make lunches in advance and do what I know I need to do rather than sitting binge watching Netflix.
-I will sit and binge watch Netflix. In the summer I started to schedule lazy days. I realize this sounds insane. Yep I am such a Type A planner I need to schedule my laziness. It takes work for me to do
NOTHING. I started to pick every second Sunday when my kids were at their dads (in preparation for NFL season to start) and planned to do nothing. For me, a lazy day means a long workout, a starbucks run, and a cheeseburger in bed.
-I will not let events change who I am, no matter how painful. I will not allow hurts to make me hard. I am someone who loves a lot and won't change that to avoid pain. Yes it might hurt like a bitch, but it won't break me. I have also learned that. The reward is greater than the risk, and I will ALWAYS take the risk. I will love first, I will love most and I will love greatest and I won't pretend I don't. This goes for all relationships, not just romantic ones.
-I will cherish my people. It took me a long time to find my people. I neglected them for a long time too.. but because they are my people, they understood and stuck around. No matter what happens, I will protect my fierce lady friendships. I value relationships more than anything else in my life and will prioritize them before anything else (I count my relationship with my children there before you freak out and think I am neglecting them to drink wine with my lady friends. Not what I meant at all). We have a First Wives Club that has an agreement to be there. That's it. We drunkenly agreed to BE THERE no matter what. I will drop anything, except my kids, to be there. As they have for me. It takes a big man to understand this.
That's it. That's enough.
Happy 40th to me. Maybe I have 40 more... maybe not. I won't spend the remaining years waiting, or wondering, or regretting.
Babies on Vacay
My babies are on a holiday.
I am not.
I didn't sleep last week in anticipation of them going. I would wake up in the middle of the night either panicked that something happened to their plane or that something happened while they were there (the worst sunburn ever; secondary drowning; Mexican drug cartel... my imagination is immense in the dark) and I wouldn't be there to fix it. Who will pack their goggles? Who will make sure that they wear enough sunscreen?
I haven't slept much this week because they are gone. They are having so much fun. They are well taken care of. They are not overly sunburnt as far as I know, they are safe in the water and the cartel has stayed away. Their dad has made them call me twice, which I appreciate more than he probably knows.
They are having fun. Without me. They are swimming and eating ice cream and making memories without me. With their dad and a new person. With someone they care about a lot.
I respect that. I try to anyways. I have a great stepmom and logically think it's wonderful that my children have another person to care for them and to be there for them.
Emotionally I feel like my heart is breaking. My village has assured me that no one will ever take my place as their mother. Logically I know that.
Emotionally... when I see pictures of the 4 of them together, the fear of losing them makes it hard to breathe. The thought that they will go to someone else about their hurts and problems and stresses makes me crazy. The thought that someone else will comfort them when they have a bad dream or rub their backs when they are sick just destroys me. The thought that someday, my babies might ask to go live with their dad and his girlfriend full time makes me panic. It's more fun there. It's the home they grew up in. I get it. Logically. Emotionally I have ranted and cried and screamed. I have made 2 snarky comments to my children about it. I am not proud of that.
I am not a great mom. I get overwhelmed and I don't have enough patience and I yell and don't read to them enough and don't tell them how amazing they are enough and I lie awake thinking of ways I should have been better after a long day of refereeing their fighting... but I am a good mom and I love them more than I ever thought possible.
I didn't know coparenting would be THIS hard. I thought it would get easier. I thought after a year, I would be ok with them being gone every second week. I thought shared custody was a necessary evil to get out of a bad relationship. I thought we would share them and try to raise them together and the awful feeling of being lost when they were gone would lessen.
It hasn't.
Every second Friday when I drop them at their dad's, I cry. For a year now. I cry every second Friday at 5:02 when I drive away. Every second Friday at 5 I make plans to distract myself so I don't have to go home to face the emptiness of my house. I thought I would start to look forward to it... but I hate it. With every piece of my heart. I hate it.
Don't get me wrong- it's less devastating by a fraction. Their dad and I are now on speaking terms and even able to have civil and friendly conversations. He makes them call me and I make them call him (what 9 and 6 year old want to talk on the phone anyways?). He and I had a conversation before they left about how hard it was going to be and how much I was dreading it. He says he understands- but he doesn't yet. I haven't introduced them to anyone. I haven't added another person to their life that they adore. He hasn't had his place threatened yet. As much as he and I have been through, I dread that day for him. I know it will gut him. I know how much he loves our children and I know how hard it will be. I know how hard it is.
I wasn't going to blog anymore. I was going to speak less and listen more. This one I had to get out though. I read an article when we first split about how hard coparenting is, and I remember thinking Oh my God that is me. That is exactly how I feel. Thank God other people struggle this hard.
So tonight, at 5pm when my babies should be coming home but are on a beach instead, I spewed all this mess out on my laptop as I sob in my kitchen and drink too much blueberry tea. Just in case someone needs to read it. Just in case someone is wondering if the grass is greener.
I am fortunate to have my babies at all. I am lucky to be their mom. They are not just mine. I have to remember that. They are a gift to many... and as much as it hurts me to share, I have to learn to give up ownership and share the gift of my babies with others.
And trust that they will always, always know I how much I love them.
I am not.
I didn't sleep last week in anticipation of them going. I would wake up in the middle of the night either panicked that something happened to their plane or that something happened while they were there (the worst sunburn ever; secondary drowning; Mexican drug cartel... my imagination is immense in the dark) and I wouldn't be there to fix it. Who will pack their goggles? Who will make sure that they wear enough sunscreen?
I haven't slept much this week because they are gone. They are having so much fun. They are well taken care of. They are not overly sunburnt as far as I know, they are safe in the water and the cartel has stayed away. Their dad has made them call me twice, which I appreciate more than he probably knows.
They are having fun. Without me. They are swimming and eating ice cream and making memories without me. With their dad and a new person. With someone they care about a lot.
I respect that. I try to anyways. I have a great stepmom and logically think it's wonderful that my children have another person to care for them and to be there for them.
Emotionally I feel like my heart is breaking. My village has assured me that no one will ever take my place as their mother. Logically I know that.
Emotionally... when I see pictures of the 4 of them together, the fear of losing them makes it hard to breathe. The thought that they will go to someone else about their hurts and problems and stresses makes me crazy. The thought that someone else will comfort them when they have a bad dream or rub their backs when they are sick just destroys me. The thought that someday, my babies might ask to go live with their dad and his girlfriend full time makes me panic. It's more fun there. It's the home they grew up in. I get it. Logically. Emotionally I have ranted and cried and screamed. I have made 2 snarky comments to my children about it. I am not proud of that.
I am not a great mom. I get overwhelmed and I don't have enough patience and I yell and don't read to them enough and don't tell them how amazing they are enough and I lie awake thinking of ways I should have been better after a long day of refereeing their fighting... but I am a good mom and I love them more than I ever thought possible.
I didn't know coparenting would be THIS hard. I thought it would get easier. I thought after a year, I would be ok with them being gone every second week. I thought shared custody was a necessary evil to get out of a bad relationship. I thought we would share them and try to raise them together and the awful feeling of being lost when they were gone would lessen.
It hasn't.
Every second Friday when I drop them at their dad's, I cry. For a year now. I cry every second Friday at 5:02 when I drive away. Every second Friday at 5 I make plans to distract myself so I don't have to go home to face the emptiness of my house. I thought I would start to look forward to it... but I hate it. With every piece of my heart. I hate it.
Don't get me wrong- it's less devastating by a fraction. Their dad and I are now on speaking terms and even able to have civil and friendly conversations. He makes them call me and I make them call him (what 9 and 6 year old want to talk on the phone anyways?). He and I had a conversation before they left about how hard it was going to be and how much I was dreading it. He says he understands- but he doesn't yet. I haven't introduced them to anyone. I haven't added another person to their life that they adore. He hasn't had his place threatened yet. As much as he and I have been through, I dread that day for him. I know it will gut him. I know how much he loves our children and I know how hard it will be. I know how hard it is.
I wasn't going to blog anymore. I was going to speak less and listen more. This one I had to get out though. I read an article when we first split about how hard coparenting is, and I remember thinking Oh my God that is me. That is exactly how I feel. Thank God other people struggle this hard.
So tonight, at 5pm when my babies should be coming home but are on a beach instead, I spewed all this mess out on my laptop as I sob in my kitchen and drink too much blueberry tea. Just in case someone needs to read it. Just in case someone is wondering if the grass is greener.
I am fortunate to have my babies at all. I am lucky to be their mom. They are not just mine. I have to remember that. They are a gift to many... and as much as it hurts me to share, I have to learn to give up ownership and share the gift of my babies with others.
And trust that they will always, always know I how much I love them.
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