Over and over

It’s 3am again. This particular time of night and I have become familiar in the last year. Poor little Carl has a stuffy nose so I am awake. He is finally drifting off after being put down twice and soothed for an hour. It’s funny. Well funny in a sad way, but when I thought about having kids in my teens and even in the last few years I always imagined night shift as my partners duty or at least having someone else there to watch the moments with me. A year of being a single mom has taught me a lot, including how rare that fantasy is. Even happily married women end up doing most of what I do which is pretty sad.

Imagine a world where instead of waking up with the baby every time he woke up that first year, someone else took some of the burden. And please don’t mistake my meaning, because there is not a whole lot of warm fuzziness to be found at 3am when you have to clear the snot from an unwilling babies nose by yourself while he screams like he is dying. I have had my mom or sister take him for a few minutes or a few hours while did something or slept a little, but every night of this first year, save one where I left him late and got him early, I’ve been dayshift, night shift, and everything in between.

I love this child. I didn’t make him alone, but somehow he became more mine than anyone elses. And that’s a pretty powerful thing. He and I have a bond. It’s probably fragile and definitely codependent, but it’s there. I’m a lover. I tend to love one person more than makes sense, or is healthy, or logical. Nothing will cure you of that quicker than a baby. I suppose my bit of encouragement for anyone, who like me is listening to the sounds of a toddler talk himself into going back to sleep, is that you can do it by yourself. And you will have to. That guy that was your rock, your special human who professed to love and adore you… He might, but it all might be smoke and mirrors and nothing will help you figure that out like a baby.

Babies are hard, but you can do it. Adulting is hard, but you can do that as well. And if your person isn’t who you expected or isn’t living up to what you need then dump that dude like a bad habit. You and that baby that keeps you up at 3am deserve better.

It’s 3am again. This particular time of night and I have become familiar in the last year. Poor little Carl has a stuffy nose so I am awake. He is finally drifting off after being put down twice and soothed for an hour. It’s funny. Well funny in a sad way, but when I thought about having kids in my teens and even in the last few years I always imagined night shift as my partners duty or at least having someone else there to watch the moments with me. A year of being a single mom has taught me a lot, including how rare that fantasy is. Even happily married women end up doing most of what I do which is pretty sad.

Imagine a world where instead of waking up with the baby every time he woke up that first year, someone else took some of the burden. And please don’t mistake my meaning, because there is not a whole lot of warm fuzziness to be found at 3am when you have to clear the snot from an unwilling babies nose by yourself while he screams like he is dying. I have had my mom or sister take him for a few minutes or a few hours while did something or slept a little, but every night of this first year, save one where I left him late and got him early, I’ve been dayshift, night shift, and everything in between.

I love this child. I didn’t make him alone, but somehow he became more mine than anyone elses. And that’s a pretty powerful thing. He and I have a bond. It’s probably fragile and definitely codependent, but it’s there. I’m a lover. I tend to love one person more than makes sense, or is healthy, or logical. Nothing will cure you of that quicker than a baby. I suppose my bit of encouragement for anyone, who like me is listening to the sounds of a toddler talk himself into going back to sleep, is that you can do it by yourself. And you will have to. That guy that was your rock, your special human who professed to love and adore you… He might, but it all might be smoke and mirrors and nothing will help you figure that out like a baby.

Babies are hard, but you can do it. Adulting is hard, but you can do that as well. And if your person isn’t who you expected or isn’t living up to what you need then dump that dude like a bad habit. You and that baby that keeps you up at 3am deserve better.

What a difference a year makes

I have an almost 1 year old.

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Go me! I kept him alive and fairly healthy a whole year!! I feel like that’s an actual accomplishment. We’ve had a few colds and one really nasty stomach virus but it’s been a great year.

Everything sort of flew by in a blur this year but I remember those first few minutes after I brought him home from the hospital. I was still living in a tiny apartment so things were crowded but it had beautiful windows. I opened the curtains, sat in the rocker with Harry Potter and the Sorcerers Stone, and read to him while he nursed and napped the afternoon away. That was the first peaceful moment I had found in days. I hated the hospital. I appreciated the care we recieved but being stuck in that room away from all of my familiar things was probably the hardest part of the birth experience for me.

This has been a year of learning, growing, and changing. I’m grateful for all the help I’ve had and for a healthy, happy kid. Whatever the future holds, may he have a hundred more years to grow and explore.

It’s getting really real

Proceed with caution. Things are about to get real.

I had a nice visit with a friend this morning. We talked and ate peanut butter crackers, and watched Carl walk everywhere and visited. It was great. Then we talked about the men in our lives.

I’m so close to my divorce I can taste it (if divorce had a taste :P). And that’s pretty great. In 11-26 days I will be completely free of this weight that has been pulling me down. However that doesn’t take away the scars. I’ve known women who stayed with men who cheated on them. I’ve listened sympathetically and thought “man, that sucks” or “that poor unfortunate woman” and in the back of my mind I wondered what it was they had messed up in their marriage for that to happen to them. That’s pretty terrible right? I know it is.

People cheat. It’s a fact. Most people cheat in one way or another long before the actual physical act and I knew I had been cheated on emotionally, and abandoned, and treated like something to be thrown away but I never wanted to deal with the reality that I had been physically cheated on. I wasn’t always as faithful as I could have been. I wasn’t always a great wife. I mothered too much. None of those things makes the rest of it OK. The reality of knowing that someone that was supposed to love me strung me along and did something so intimate with another woman, a woman that claimed to be my friend, is a mind fuck. Every memory is tainted by it. Every good gesture is up for questioning, every moment I have with my friend gets revisited in my mind so that I can drive myself crazy trying to figure out how I ignored this for so long.

I’m lucky. I know I’m lucky. I have a good life. I’m happy. I have the best part of what turned out to be a pretty shitty human. None of that changes the hurt I’m dealing with. Knowing that someone did that to you makes you question everything. My friend told me that it stays with you your whole life. Unfortunately she has been in the same boat. I hope it doesn’t stay with me. I hope given enough time and distance I can trust another human not to completely abandon me. I hope because I made the decision to break away, to run as far and as fast as I could from that particular bit of toxic sludge that it can be different for me. I hope that my little boy grows up respecting women as something more than sex objects, knowing what he has when he has it, and doesn’t think he is too old for his mother to embarrass if he is ever this much of a douche.

Growing things!

Today my child ate dirt. Like actually took it out of the  box and ate it. …

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But he is pretty cute. We gardened today. Well we got the dirt put in the box. I’ve got to add more and I want another box but I’m pretty excited about the square foot gardening thing. I want to grow and freeze veggies. I want fresh melons. I want Carl to pull weeds with me in a few months. I want to become a better gardener.

It feels good to want things again. Ive got tomatoes, peppers, herbs, watermelon and I want to get squash seeds to go withy cucumber and lettuce seeds. Go plant something!

Newness and such

I should be cleaning. This is the story of my life when Carl is not with me. I hate having a dirty house and I did clean a little, but then I got distracted by all the thoughts. Life has seasons. This is just one of many seasons. I got a new (to me) car today. Its pretty exciting. Faith and I won’t have to car share anymore which is pretty sweet. Car sharing is hard and it can be tricky.

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Going through a divorce is difficult, but I think if you wrap your mind around it and if you take a lot of time to do that then it will be less difficult. At least that has been my experience so far. I know everyone has a different experience and while I acknowledge that I had a hand in the ultimate demise of the relationship I also think that I did everything I could to save a sinking ship and then I did the healthy thing by jumping off.

And now I get to live again. That’s the way life should be. If it isn’t working, try and fix it, if it can’t be fixed…give it away and move on. Don’t spend all your time dwelling on that other person. Let them live their life. If you have a child with them then you can’t help but dwell a little, I mean you have to see them on a regular basis. But don’t make that your whole life.  That is one my mantras these days. So far I think I am doing pretty good. I stay busy, I haven’t binged on cookies and ice cream, life is pretty good.

 

 

Too nice…hahahaha

Somewhere along the journey I became labelled “too nice”. And somewhere along the journey I stopped trusting my own instincts. I’ve come to terms with a lot of changes recently. My life feels like whirlwind. Little bunny is turning 1. I’m going to be officially divorced in 21-36 days. I’m getting a new to me car. I’m buying land. I’m apparently part of a convoluted chain of inheritance on some other land. No one is doing anything in Corinth about my father’s murder or if they are it’s a big fat secret they aren’t telling me. And I’m pretty sure in the 5+ years I’ve been out of the dating scene everything has changed. I mean everything. I don’t know how to do that any more.

I’m really not too nice but I do have a philosophy that I would like to share. How we act toward another person reflects on us not them so whether it’s an annoying driver who cuts us off in traffic or a co-worker who seems impossible to get along with, a friend who has been disloyal, or a spouse that cheats with your friend, how you treat that person reflects on you, not them. I fail. I fail all the time when I’m angry, or I give into bitterness, or I just forget to live because I’m dwelling on the misdeeds of another person but eventually I try to remember that kindness is not in vane. Compassion is always the best answer. Everyone is flawed and will eventually do something hurtful even if it is unintentional. So let’s all remember to be kind…and get over ourselves. I’m going to make that my mantra for a while.

Be Prepared!

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Humans like to be prepared.. I like to be prepared. When I found out I was pregnant I made a spreadsheet and filled it in based on what I thought I would need for Carl from now until he is an adult (basically). It has changed over the last year. It used to be all diapers, and baby furniture and tiny clothes and now it is about learning materials and clothes from now until size 8 (which considering he in in 12month clothes right now is pretty far out). I like to be prepared. If I do my taxes I mentally prepare myself to be audited. If I plan a party I prepare for no one and everyone to come so that when I get about halfway between that I will be prepared. I don’t let myself hope for things anymore, I simply prepare for the worst and if something good happens then all the better.

I prepared myself for a divorce. I spent a lot of time thinking about all the ways in which I could fix my marriage, what I had done wrong, how I could fix it, if this or that would just fall into place. I put a strange amount of hope into something I knew wasn’t fixable and more than that I probably wouldn’t want it even if it could be fixed. Then I prepared myself for the idea of being divorced. Or at least I thought I did. I started thinking seriously about divorce almost two years ago. I moved out. I did my own thing. I was almost ready, and then I found out I was pregnant. That put a whole bunch of other complications into the idea of divorce so I stopped thinking and preparing for a while. Then I had a sweet little exhausting newborn, infant, and then almost toddler. That time passes swiftly especially if you are trying to do most of it yourself. Inevitably I started thinking about divorce again. And then one day I saw something that just flipped the switch for me. I take a really long time to make a decision but once I do I am ready to do whatever it takes to make it happen.

So I saw a lawyer, and I payed all the fees myself, and I got the papers together, and I started the conversations and I pushed and pushed and cried a little. I got to feel unwanted yet again. I got to feel that pain of abandonment again. I got to feel the hope that seeing the light at the end of the tunnel will bring. And finally I got to sign the papers and so did he. Barring something terrible and given another 26-41 days and a judges signature I will be officially divorced.I will be under 30 and divorced. I thought I was prepared for how that would feel. I thought I would be sadder, and I am sad, but I am also relieved. I can live again. I mean I have been living, but not really for me, mostly for Carl. And don’t get me wrong I love being a mom, but I am also a woman and still a young one at that. This doesn’t have to be how my story ends I have a ton of story left to tell. I needed that realization. I need that to be reality. So while I still plan to be a great mom and a great employee and a great friend I can now also be a great me because I have all the parts of me back again.

How to eat an elephant?

How do we navigate the obstacles of life? I’m not sure but right at this moment I feel weighed down with the obstacles. I was late today. As a rule I am never ever late for anything ever. I hate being late. I feel physical ill and emotionally guilty if i am late for anything whether it be work or play or anything. If i am two minutes late to Babies Love the Library I feel so guilty. I was actually late in something of a chain reaction this morning. First I was late to pick up my sister (oh the joys of sharing a vehicle), then I was late for my slot of sitting in the chapel for the all night vigil. One of those just sort of led to another unfortunately. There are reasons for my lateness of course. There are always reasons.

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It’s hard to be anxious while starting at that face…it’s also easy to be late.

When your life is encumbered by emotional, physical, and spiritual clutter any new thing can feel like an obstacle, anything at all might feel like one. I feel like my life is burdened down with obstacles that are taking too long to do away with. That’s not a particularly pleasant feeling and it makes everything seem harder.

Perhaps what I should get from this rare opportunity to quietly contemplate is that the only way to eat an elephant is one bite at a time. I need to stop trying to fix everything at once and just focus on fixing one thing until it is well and truly fixed so that I can move on from it. As well as I know myself it probably won’t be just one thing, more like 4, but not everything all at once.

Here’s to eating my elephant. Have a wonderful Good Friday and walk in love friends.

Kismet

Kismet is a fun word; much more fun than plain old fate. I mean really, who would want to say fate when they could say something cool like kismet.

So do you believe in kismet? And if so does that exclude the premise of freewill? I think that you can have kismet and freewill. The two should not be mutually exclusive. I believe that there are just some people we are supposed to meet, some events we are supposed to go through or witness, and that is kismet. It is up to us how we react, what we hold on to and what we let go of. I hate to beat a dead horse but I am about to be an under 30 divorcee and I would like to think that there is some kismet involved there and that while I have no idea why things worked out the way they did there is a reason somewhere.