It has become very interesting to me to see the evolution of my friends before, during and after my divorce as compared to me being a friend to someone who is getting a divorce. Friendships with adults is not tricky unless only one of you is actually an adult. It amazes me that the filing of a divorce can send a friendship right back to high school in the blink of an eye; sides get chosen and hearts get broken. I have tried very hard to be cordial to the ex husbands and ex wives of my friends, especially when there is children involved, because I am an adult and I know that there are always two sides to every coin. I have tried extremely hard to be cordial to my ex-husband's friends. I also know how much blaming and accusing helps a relationship which is about as much as taking a knife to a tank fight. I also felt like their divorce was none of my business and if they chose to ask for my opinions or my help, I was there to be a friend and help not tell them how to live their lives. As far as my ex husband's friends, well they were never really great friends of mine anyways so nothing really had changed.
During my divorce, I had several good friends that tried to distract me from everything I was going through. I was an angry, crazy mess sometimes and looking back now I know they did the best they could dealing with that. My friends loved me and there wasn't a real loyalty issue, because frankly none of them were really friends with my ex husband. They were cordial with him and even waved when he had the boys. They did really exactly what I expected, but there were times when I really needed to just be sad or angry and I noticed my friends really didn't want to deal with that. They didn't want to dig deep with me and find out exactly what the issues were surrounding WHY I got a divorce and maybe they couldn't because they had some of the same issue going on in their own marriages that they were not dealing with either. My friends kind of fell into a few groups. The one's that wanted me to go out and party, forgetting my responsibilities for a little while and just let loose were my Friday-Saturday friends. My work friends that knew I was going through a divorce and helped me by letting me take extra breaks just in case my ex called and told me to hang in there helping me through the days. Lastly, my really close friends that knew there was nothing they could do or say to make things better, but they would just cry with me sometimes and hug me. I can honestly say I really only had one friend that did that. She has been my friend for all of my life practically and we truly have an amazing connection that will never ever go away. I also had my family that I leaned on a great deal, but considering my parents were also going through a divorce at the same time, it was often difficult for them to be supportive. Even with all my support from my friends and family, I felt incredibly alone, sad and tired. I had regret and confusion and host of emotions that nobody really understood. Looking back I think it was difficult for my friends to see me undone. I was someone they looked at as stable, in a good relationship, a good mom, and happy. Looking back, I realize my friends really didn't know me at all. My really close friend, my mother, and a few work friends had know I was having problems with depression and financial issues, but honestly I think they were all pretty shocked when I filed for divorce. After filing, as I began to tell people the hell I had been going through for the last several years, people were shocked. I decided then I wasn't going to lie to myself or my friends about my life anymore. I think, surprisingly, that has shown me who these people I had called friends really were.
I recently had a discussion with some of my friends about divorce. One of my closer friends has filed and I was her maid of honor at her wedding. A situation happened and it was within my definition of physical abuse. To me, this changes the entire divorce. I would have a protective order in place and either end visitation until my spouse undergoes so psychological evaluations, or just end visitation. My friend has decided that because she had an affair the abuse was provoked and therefore excusable. Some of my other friends feel since they had a prior relationship with the abuser that they have a certain amount of loyalty toward him. One thing all of my friends know about me is I have ZERO tolerance for physical abuse in a relationship. I felt they had all gone to great lengths to conceal some of these facts from me and it is difficult for me to be any kind of friend to any of them if they are going to allow this behavior and then lie about it to me. I can't make excuses for abuse. It is what it is. I love my friends, but abuse is not acceptable behavior and allowing it to continue in front of a child is something I can't watch. Looking back, I realize they couldn't watch my divorce because they did not want to deal with any of the issues I was bringing up, but also because they didn't want to deal with anything. They don't want to deal with why they are unhappy which was the root of why I wanted a divorce. I wasn't happy and there was no way within the confines of that marriage I was ever going to be allowed to be myself. I had explored the reasons for my unhappiness and most of them had little to nothing to do with my ex husband. I was unhappy because of me. My friends don't even seem to be unhappy. They can't even acknowledge that it is unacceptable to be hit, pushed or locked in a bedroom and threatened with bodily harm by the people they living with. How do you be a friend to someone who can't even be themselves? Maybe I really don't know my friends either?
I consider myself a good friend. I listen. I don't judge people because I believe everyone can learn to do better, I try to see the good in them and go with that. I know I don't want to live someone else's life and I don't even want to begin to tell them how to live theirs. I offer help when I see a need and I empathize. Even though I can't support some of my friend's decisions, I always let them know I will be there to help them in any way. I hope my friends can see that, but I also know that friendship is a two way street. I learned that if I didn't reach out for help, sometimes people don't realize you need it. Most of all, I am honest and I'm real. I am the kind of friend I would want. It is difficult when you see people you love in difficult situations and they don't want your help, don't want to deal with life, and don't want to stay safe. I guess sometimes you have to look at who your friends really are and decide if they are the kind of friends you need or want. Most of all you have to be your own best friend.
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
Friday, April 19, 2013
The Great Divide
Often I have thought about what exactly led to my divorce, circumstances, factors and what was the real cause. In every article, book, and therapy session I discovered some part of why I chose to end my marriage. I have asked myself a million times if I could have salvaged my marriage. The answer is always no. I couldn't have done anything, but WE could have. My ex-husband could have done quite a few things, but he didn't and nobody can make him. Love wasn't enough, our children weren't enough, and I wasn't enough of a reason for him to accept his mistakes and make changes. No therapist, or book, or pill can make a person really look at themselves and make them want to be a better person. You have to want that for yourself. The simple answer to why our marriage ended was that I wanted to be a better person and I knew I deserved better.
The problem was I learned that at the end of the marriage and not the beginning. If I had thought I was this wonderful person that deserved a loving, equal relationship with a partner that valued me as much as I valued myself, I would have had a successful marriage. I started my marriage as an empty, sad, broken, needy person that would be happy to give anything just to have someone want to marry me. I gave and I gave and I gave myself body and soul to a mirror image in an attempt to fill up his needs and we were happy at times. As long as I was giving him what he needed and expected, I was fulfilled. I was happy, he was happy, and he loved THAT me. He loved that perfect housewife that listened to all his stories like the first time I heard them, cooked like his Mom, entertained his family while ignoring my own. He loved that I loved him. Then we had children. They had needs, a lot of them. I read books again, searching for all the ways I could be the perfect parent. I exhausted myself mentally and physically to maintain that perfect wife he expected and a perfect mom. I lost weight, potty trained, and mastered the art of distraction. I did pretty good and I took pride in myself. In fact I got rather confident in who I was and didn't look into the mirror anymore. I didn't need as much approval from others and frankly, didn't care what anybody thought. I knew myself better, I was stronger, and I made things happen. I had two little lives that I was responsible for and I started resenting him for making me his mother. I didn't love him anymore. He resented me for changing into this whole other person. He didn't want me to be strong. He didn't want the best for me, because that meant he would actually have to do more to earn my respect. We blamed each other for everything and made a mess of our lives, but eventually I stopped blaming him and just accepted him. I didn't want to be married to him and he desperately still wanted to be married, just not to who I had become. I still loved him. I had become confident. I didn't need a mirror to see how wonderful I was anymore. I loved myself more.
Sometimes it is very difficult for me to deal with my ex-husband, because I am dealing with my old self. I am dealing with his expectation of who I was, who I became and all of the mistrust he has of me. I also see all my old insecurities right in the eyes, looking and searching for something to reflect back the feelings. It's hard to remain calm, focused and move forward with someone still holding on to the past. It's hard to respect someone who has so little themselves. It's hard to love someone you have no respect for. I can only change my behavior. I can only be a compass now, not a mirror. A compass will only tell you which direction your are heading, not show you where you need to go. Only he can decide which path to take, because only he knows what he wants. I have my own path to tread.
At times there is an immense divide before me. I can't see the bottom and there are many obstacles in my way. Razor sharp rocks jut out waiting to rip my clothes. The wind howls trying to push me over the edge. I know I can't reach my destination alone. I call for help and only hear the echo's of my own cries. I doubt my ability to make it to the other side. That is my delusion. My truth is I am the divide. I am the other side. I am all my paths, all my obstacles, and all my needs. I only hear my own voice and that is enough. My voice says, "look again." I look inside.. There is no cavern, no obstacles, nothing I can't do. Sometimes it's as simple as looking in a different direction, but you have to look. You have to look inside to truly know yourself, trust yourself, love yourself before you can learn about someone else, trust someone else, or love someone else. Until you look inside you will keep searching for yourself in everyone else and never find what you are looking for. You will fall down on sharp rocks and feel the pain of rejection like a giant boulder crushing your soul. No fire will warm your body and no food will satisfy your hunger. Nothing you do will fill the loneliness in your heart. Your soul will only be a mirror to reflect what other's see never letting anyone inside to the unique beauty unlike any other that never ages. They will only see the qualities they want in themselves, but never appreciate who you really are. When you don't know who you are, how can you show others? Hiding behind a reflection your soul will die. Stop trying to walk a path when you don't even know why you are walking in the first place. Look again, and if you don't like what you see get some glasses. Get some help. Change what you are doing and then look again. Accept what you see. Love all of it. Fix what you can, but love even the broken pieces. Some paths leave more scars than others. There is no divide between who you are and who you want to be, there is only you.
The problem was I learned that at the end of the marriage and not the beginning. If I had thought I was this wonderful person that deserved a loving, equal relationship with a partner that valued me as much as I valued myself, I would have had a successful marriage. I started my marriage as an empty, sad, broken, needy person that would be happy to give anything just to have someone want to marry me. I gave and I gave and I gave myself body and soul to a mirror image in an attempt to fill up his needs and we were happy at times. As long as I was giving him what he needed and expected, I was fulfilled. I was happy, he was happy, and he loved THAT me. He loved that perfect housewife that listened to all his stories like the first time I heard them, cooked like his Mom, entertained his family while ignoring my own. He loved that I loved him. Then we had children. They had needs, a lot of them. I read books again, searching for all the ways I could be the perfect parent. I exhausted myself mentally and physically to maintain that perfect wife he expected and a perfect mom. I lost weight, potty trained, and mastered the art of distraction. I did pretty good and I took pride in myself. In fact I got rather confident in who I was and didn't look into the mirror anymore. I didn't need as much approval from others and frankly, didn't care what anybody thought. I knew myself better, I was stronger, and I made things happen. I had two little lives that I was responsible for and I started resenting him for making me his mother. I didn't love him anymore. He resented me for changing into this whole other person. He didn't want me to be strong. He didn't want the best for me, because that meant he would actually have to do more to earn my respect. We blamed each other for everything and made a mess of our lives, but eventually I stopped blaming him and just accepted him. I didn't want to be married to him and he desperately still wanted to be married, just not to who I had become. I still loved him. I had become confident. I didn't need a mirror to see how wonderful I was anymore. I loved myself more.
Sometimes it is very difficult for me to deal with my ex-husband, because I am dealing with my old self. I am dealing with his expectation of who I was, who I became and all of the mistrust he has of me. I also see all my old insecurities right in the eyes, looking and searching for something to reflect back the feelings. It's hard to remain calm, focused and move forward with someone still holding on to the past. It's hard to respect someone who has so little themselves. It's hard to love someone you have no respect for. I can only change my behavior. I can only be a compass now, not a mirror. A compass will only tell you which direction your are heading, not show you where you need to go. Only he can decide which path to take, because only he knows what he wants. I have my own path to tread.
At times there is an immense divide before me. I can't see the bottom and there are many obstacles in my way. Razor sharp rocks jut out waiting to rip my clothes. The wind howls trying to push me over the edge. I know I can't reach my destination alone. I call for help and only hear the echo's of my own cries. I doubt my ability to make it to the other side. That is my delusion. My truth is I am the divide. I am the other side. I am all my paths, all my obstacles, and all my needs. I only hear my own voice and that is enough. My voice says, "look again." I look inside.. There is no cavern, no obstacles, nothing I can't do. Sometimes it's as simple as looking in a different direction, but you have to look. You have to look inside to truly know yourself, trust yourself, love yourself before you can learn about someone else, trust someone else, or love someone else. Until you look inside you will keep searching for yourself in everyone else and never find what you are looking for. You will fall down on sharp rocks and feel the pain of rejection like a giant boulder crushing your soul. No fire will warm your body and no food will satisfy your hunger. Nothing you do will fill the loneliness in your heart. Your soul will only be a mirror to reflect what other's see never letting anyone inside to the unique beauty unlike any other that never ages. They will only see the qualities they want in themselves, but never appreciate who you really are. When you don't know who you are, how can you show others? Hiding behind a reflection your soul will die. Stop trying to walk a path when you don't even know why you are walking in the first place. Look again, and if you don't like what you see get some glasses. Get some help. Change what you are doing and then look again. Accept what you see. Love all of it. Fix what you can, but love even the broken pieces. Some paths leave more scars than others. There is no divide between who you are and who you want to be, there is only you.
Friday, April 5, 2013
Magic Mirror
So for my 41st birthday my younger sister got me a lighted magnifying mirror, that I asked for by the way, and I have been using it daily. It really is great, but three things have occurred to me. One, I have more hair on my chin than a German wrestler. Two, my face is dry and I have way more wrinkles than last year. Three, my sister is very evil in a sneaky way. Not that any of these things really bother me as much as the fact that I need the damn magnifying mirror because I'm getting progressively more blind, but it does remind me daily that youth is gone. My youth, my kid's youth, everyone is getting older all around me. Like a Dutch painting, all around me are signs of natural decay and reminders of mortality. I realize in my mind that these ever present signals are not trying to create panic, even though they do, but that they are there even if I don't dwell in the valley of death. I think it is so ironic that the most depressing thing is also the most encouraging. My children are becoming little people.
My oldest son, Jack, is thirteen and nearing six feet tall. It is truly amazing to me that he is evolving into a man right before my very eyes. He was such a tiny beautiful baby boy. He has so many interests and is becoming more and more independent all the time. His hugs are like giant bear hugs now and he towers over his Mommy. My youngest son, Elliott, is ten. I noticed in his school pictures he is looking so much more like his father every day. His face is changing from that little kid to that awkward teenager. Both boys are so funny and full of life. They are creative and sensitive. They are totally different, yet go together like peanut butter and jelly. I am so proud to leave this world a legacy like them. I can't wait to see what they will accomplish and dream of when they are adults, but I am also so sad they aren't my babies anymore. The other evening we were all exhausted and I popped in a movie. The boys curled up on both sides of me and fell asleep. Jack had his head in my lap and I stroked his massive curly head of hair and Elliott held my arm snuggled up beside me on the other side. I kept thinking all night how wonderful this was to have both the boys snoring just like they did when they were little. Sometimes I just want to go back and do things better, but that would change who they are now and they are great. Every hug and every smile tells me that I have done pretty good.
Teenage years are difficult and I think many changes are in store for us. Schedules become more challenging, dealing with friends and girls, and teaching them about making good choices that will affect the rest of our lives are duties that sometimes make me feel like I'm scaling Mt. Everest, especially when their father and I don't quite agree on our own life choices. I read a quote yesterday that said, "Become who you want your kids to be." Deep down all parents want is for their kids to be happy and healthy. Simple, but yet so complicated. Why is it so complicated? I had a nail client yesterday that could not decide on a color for her polish. I asked her about her weekend and if she had any big plans and she didn't. She looked and looked at the colors and I asked her what her favorite color was. Still, she couldn't decide. Finally, she threw up her hands and just asked me to pick a color. "There are just too many choices!" My client had too many colors that she liked to make the best choice for her. This is why life gets more complicated, too many choices. This is why I could still be going to college, because I liked learning about everything and not necessarily doing anything. This is why teen years are so difficult. For the first time children are presented with more independence and more choices that actually make a difference and as a parent, I have to let them make the decisions and experience the consequences. I have to let go, a little. I also have to use my freedom to keep becoming who I want them to be. I'm not just mom. I'm a writer, an employee, a nail technician, a friend, and a person. I'm old. I'm a model. I'm good.
I guess I don't have to wait to see how the years change them. I can just look into my super magnifying lighted mirror and see how wonderful they will become. My sister is one sneaky evil bitch.
My oldest son, Jack, is thirteen and nearing six feet tall. It is truly amazing to me that he is evolving into a man right before my very eyes. He was such a tiny beautiful baby boy. He has so many interests and is becoming more and more independent all the time. His hugs are like giant bear hugs now and he towers over his Mommy. My youngest son, Elliott, is ten. I noticed in his school pictures he is looking so much more like his father every day. His face is changing from that little kid to that awkward teenager. Both boys are so funny and full of life. They are creative and sensitive. They are totally different, yet go together like peanut butter and jelly. I am so proud to leave this world a legacy like them. I can't wait to see what they will accomplish and dream of when they are adults, but I am also so sad they aren't my babies anymore. The other evening we were all exhausted and I popped in a movie. The boys curled up on both sides of me and fell asleep. Jack had his head in my lap and I stroked his massive curly head of hair and Elliott held my arm snuggled up beside me on the other side. I kept thinking all night how wonderful this was to have both the boys snoring just like they did when they were little. Sometimes I just want to go back and do things better, but that would change who they are now and they are great. Every hug and every smile tells me that I have done pretty good.
Teenage years are difficult and I think many changes are in store for us. Schedules become more challenging, dealing with friends and girls, and teaching them about making good choices that will affect the rest of our lives are duties that sometimes make me feel like I'm scaling Mt. Everest, especially when their father and I don't quite agree on our own life choices. I read a quote yesterday that said, "Become who you want your kids to be." Deep down all parents want is for their kids to be happy and healthy. Simple, but yet so complicated. Why is it so complicated? I had a nail client yesterday that could not decide on a color for her polish. I asked her about her weekend and if she had any big plans and she didn't. She looked and looked at the colors and I asked her what her favorite color was. Still, she couldn't decide. Finally, she threw up her hands and just asked me to pick a color. "There are just too many choices!" My client had too many colors that she liked to make the best choice for her. This is why life gets more complicated, too many choices. This is why I could still be going to college, because I liked learning about everything and not necessarily doing anything. This is why teen years are so difficult. For the first time children are presented with more independence and more choices that actually make a difference and as a parent, I have to let them make the decisions and experience the consequences. I have to let go, a little. I also have to use my freedom to keep becoming who I want them to be. I'm not just mom. I'm a writer, an employee, a nail technician, a friend, and a person. I'm old. I'm a model. I'm good.
I guess I don't have to wait to see how the years change them. I can just look into my super magnifying lighted mirror and see how wonderful they will become. My sister is one sneaky evil bitch.
Friday, March 15, 2013
The Test
In my thirteen years as a parent, I have learned some things. I have learned I don't know everything. I've learned there are many solutions to one problem. I have learned you never give dairy to a kid with a sour stomach no matter how much they cry for it. I have learned you never get white carpet. Most of all I have learned what unconditional love really is and that children are little people not dolls you can control. I have learned you must not only teach them with words, but with actions. YOUR ACTIONS when you don't even think they are listening or looking. I have learned that my thoughts, feelings, actions, decisions, etc are ultimately going to be mirrored at some point in their lives and I want them to think, feel, act, and make choices that lead them to a healthier and happier life. I have also learned that everyone makes mistakes, but they are worthless unless you can accept them, learn from them, and move forward doing something differently in the future. So, in that light I offer you a test. This is a test to show you if you are ready to be a parent. This is a test that should be completed before you even think about having sex by both partners. This is a test I will someday soon be giving to my 13 year old son so he can hopefully understand that his decisions will not only affect him, his partner, any future offspring, me, our entire family and the world. This is a test to show him we are all connected and we all need to be responsible for our choices.
Here is the test.
1) You are going to the bathroom and you finish the last of the toilet paper roll. Do you replace it with a new roll of toilet paper and put it on the toilet paper roll holder every time?
2) Have you ever not left a tip at a restaurant?
3) Have you ever told another parent they need to do something differently with their child that was misbehaving or after the unruly child left complained about that behavior to the people you were with?
4)Have you ever read a book to a child or babysat children?
5)Does it bother you to have the same song repeated over and over or watch the same commercial five times during the show you are watching?
6)Do you vomit if you see another person vomit?
7)Has someone close to you died and how did you cope with that death?
8)Can you work 24 hours straight for little to no reward?
9)Would you give up everything you own to send another person to college?
10)What do you think being a parent means?
These seem like very trivial questions, but they are not.
Numbers 1 and 2 rate your level of selfishness. If you have ever done these things it shows you are clearly not ready for parenting. You know very well the next person that uses the toilet is going to be left with crap on their hands so to speak and I don't care how crappy a waitress/waiter was those people go home with a negative check after taxes. Even if they got your order wrong, the food was crappy and the mood was generally poor that is one night you didn't have to cook or clean dishes. I would pay ten dollars not to have to cook or clean dishes any night and if you are a parent you would too.
Number 3 rates you on your expectations of parenthood. If you answered yes, you are no where near ready to be a parent! Nothing could be more personal or earth shattering as a parent to hear someone else tell them they are doing something wrong simply because their child has misbehaved in public where they know they can probably get away with it. It also shows how incredibly unrealistic your expectations of your parenting skills will be and boy are you in for a horrible terrible two's.
Number 4. It amazes me that the first time some parents realize they are actually going to be responsible for the daily care of a child is when the baby comes out. Hello? What are you thinking? Take some parenting classes. Even drivers have to take driver's ed to and a learning permit before they get behind the wheel of a car?? Babysit some friends' kids and see if this is really something you want to do. If at the end of the few hours you are totally exhausted and running for the door, chances are you should re-think becoming a parent right now.
Number 5. Infants, kids, teens need and want routine even though they will fight you endlessly not to have it. They want to watch the same Dora the Explorer episode or Barney episode or any other show that makes your skin crawl a million times and they want you to watch it with them. They want the same stuffed animal and if you can't find it good luck sleeping for the next year. Also, unless you are blessed with the gift like selective OCD the routine of parenting can get very boring. Infants, kids and teens need structure and consistency even if they fight you tooth and nail. A small thing like Daylight Savings Time can mess your family up like using salt for sugar. If you can't follow a routine or if you are so rigid you have to have the exact same routine all the time, you might want to skip on parenting.
Number 6. Let's face it, babies puke, spit up, projectile vomit like the Exorcist and kids puke all the time too. If you can't handle being puked on, peed on, shit on and by on I mean in your face, then you need to get a job as a daycare provider and work through your fear before you become a parent. If you can hold a baby in one arm that has crap coming down his leg out of his diaper and watch your two year old puke on the clothes you just laid out on your bed to wear and still have a good day, congrats you are ready to be a parent. For those of you that think I am insane and must have bought cheep diapers please re-read number 3.
Number 7. It is a harsh reality, but even in this day and age children die every day. Some of my best friends have lost their children tragically and it has broken their families into so many pieces. If you have never experienced the death of a close loved one (not that it compares in any way to the loss of a child) you are not ready for parenthood.
Number 8. Parenting is the most thankless tiring and rewarding job you will ever do, but IT IS A JOB!! It is a 24/7 never ending job. It will never end until you die period. The rewards are elusive and if you think you are going to get a thank you for dragging your butt out of bed to get your teenager that has just been caught drinking at an underage party, you are sadly mistaken. If you think infants thank you for anything you are wrong. They eat, sleep, poop over and over and over. They are blessedly cute, but they don't every say thank you. If you think your job is hard and nobody appreciates you, try doing it for free and see how long your want that job. That is parenthood.
Number 9. The reality of this is we are a nation that is firmly in debt. Most of that debt is student loans. You need to think long and hard about how long you want your adult child living with you or long and hard about how you are going to help them afford to go to college, because it may mean a second mortgage on your house.
Number 10. This is the most telling of all. If the testee can write more than one sentence on something they know nothing about, they are not ready to be a parent. You will never be ready for this responsibility no matter how much you think you know about parenting. If they write anything all they fail and they need to really think long and hard about being a parent.
Of course nobody will do this, but I am going to give this test to my sons when they are appropriate. I wish someone had done this for me. I was not ready, but I have learned a lot.
Here is the test.
1) You are going to the bathroom and you finish the last of the toilet paper roll. Do you replace it with a new roll of toilet paper and put it on the toilet paper roll holder every time?
2) Have you ever not left a tip at a restaurant?
3) Have you ever told another parent they need to do something differently with their child that was misbehaving or after the unruly child left complained about that behavior to the people you were with?
4)Have you ever read a book to a child or babysat children?
5)Does it bother you to have the same song repeated over and over or watch the same commercial five times during the show you are watching?
6)Do you vomit if you see another person vomit?
7)Has someone close to you died and how did you cope with that death?
8)Can you work 24 hours straight for little to no reward?
9)Would you give up everything you own to send another person to college?
10)What do you think being a parent means?
These seem like very trivial questions, but they are not.
Numbers 1 and 2 rate your level of selfishness. If you have ever done these things it shows you are clearly not ready for parenting. You know very well the next person that uses the toilet is going to be left with crap on their hands so to speak and I don't care how crappy a waitress/waiter was those people go home with a negative check after taxes. Even if they got your order wrong, the food was crappy and the mood was generally poor that is one night you didn't have to cook or clean dishes. I would pay ten dollars not to have to cook or clean dishes any night and if you are a parent you would too.
Number 3 rates you on your expectations of parenthood. If you answered yes, you are no where near ready to be a parent! Nothing could be more personal or earth shattering as a parent to hear someone else tell them they are doing something wrong simply because their child has misbehaved in public where they know they can probably get away with it. It also shows how incredibly unrealistic your expectations of your parenting skills will be and boy are you in for a horrible terrible two's.
Number 4. It amazes me that the first time some parents realize they are actually going to be responsible for the daily care of a child is when the baby comes out. Hello? What are you thinking? Take some parenting classes. Even drivers have to take driver's ed to and a learning permit before they get behind the wheel of a car?? Babysit some friends' kids and see if this is really something you want to do. If at the end of the few hours you are totally exhausted and running for the door, chances are you should re-think becoming a parent right now.
Number 5. Infants, kids, teens need and want routine even though they will fight you endlessly not to have it. They want to watch the same Dora the Explorer episode or Barney episode or any other show that makes your skin crawl a million times and they want you to watch it with them. They want the same stuffed animal and if you can't find it good luck sleeping for the next year. Also, unless you are blessed with the gift like selective OCD the routine of parenting can get very boring. Infants, kids and teens need structure and consistency even if they fight you tooth and nail. A small thing like Daylight Savings Time can mess your family up like using salt for sugar. If you can't follow a routine or if you are so rigid you have to have the exact same routine all the time, you might want to skip on parenting.
Number 6. Let's face it, babies puke, spit up, projectile vomit like the Exorcist and kids puke all the time too. If you can't handle being puked on, peed on, shit on and by on I mean in your face, then you need to get a job as a daycare provider and work through your fear before you become a parent. If you can hold a baby in one arm that has crap coming down his leg out of his diaper and watch your two year old puke on the clothes you just laid out on your bed to wear and still have a good day, congrats you are ready to be a parent. For those of you that think I am insane and must have bought cheep diapers please re-read number 3.
Number 7. It is a harsh reality, but even in this day and age children die every day. Some of my best friends have lost their children tragically and it has broken their families into so many pieces. If you have never experienced the death of a close loved one (not that it compares in any way to the loss of a child) you are not ready for parenthood.
Number 8. Parenting is the most thankless tiring and rewarding job you will ever do, but IT IS A JOB!! It is a 24/7 never ending job. It will never end until you die period. The rewards are elusive and if you think you are going to get a thank you for dragging your butt out of bed to get your teenager that has just been caught drinking at an underage party, you are sadly mistaken. If you think infants thank you for anything you are wrong. They eat, sleep, poop over and over and over. They are blessedly cute, but they don't every say thank you. If you think your job is hard and nobody appreciates you, try doing it for free and see how long your want that job. That is parenthood.
Number 9. The reality of this is we are a nation that is firmly in debt. Most of that debt is student loans. You need to think long and hard about how long you want your adult child living with you or long and hard about how you are going to help them afford to go to college, because it may mean a second mortgage on your house.
Number 10. This is the most telling of all. If the testee can write more than one sentence on something they know nothing about, they are not ready to be a parent. You will never be ready for this responsibility no matter how much you think you know about parenting. If they write anything all they fail and they need to really think long and hard about being a parent.
Of course nobody will do this, but I am going to give this test to my sons when they are appropriate. I wish someone had done this for me. I was not ready, but I have learned a lot.
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Does The Line Start Here?
In the ever changing world of a divorced parent issues abound and crisis can erupt at any moment. The stress is like perpetually waiting to go on the roller coaster when you don't really even want to ride, getting on and finding out it wasn't as bad as you expected or that it was worse, possibly puking and finally the ride is over and the inattentive park attendant directs you to the back of the line to wait until the next ride. For a year now my children have both complained they did not want to go to their Dad's. Several occasions they have refused or manipulated their way into staying home. It affects their health, school work, our time together. Over the past year my attitude regarding their father and the situation that has unfolded with his new partner and her five children, has steadily festered into what it is today. As much as I try to explain to my children that their father loves his new family and he is trying, my words are just sounding flat. The truth is I can't pretend it is okay any more than my children can accept they just have to go, because he is their Dad. Why should they have to accept that his choices are making it impossible for them to spend any time with him? When does he have to realize that what they want matters too? How long do I have to listen to them cry, because they don't feel like they have a father anymore? Where do I draw the line? Do I allow them to draw it?
I have talked to my ex-husband on several occasions and listened to him give me a laundry list of the things he has chosen to take on with his new family. I have expressed my concerns that his children do not feel like a priority to him, repeatedly. After every conversation, I tell both boys to give their Dad a chance to make some changes. The last time we spoke was about two weeks ago. It seems to me the only change that the boys reported was they were now allowed to bring their electronic devices to his house. After I pleaded with my ex-husband to spend more time with his two children, he allows them to play on their iPad and Kindle the whole weekend. He sat on the sidelines and the boys had zero interaction with him alone the entire weekend. While the boys liked finally having something to do, they both are tired of waiting for their Dad to wake up and listen to their requests for more time alone with him. Since my oldest is 13 and my youngest is 10 and they are both active in their own activities, I don't see it getting any easier for him to schedule around his other step-children. Where is the line?
I remember vividly when I decided to stop visitations with my biological father. I was 13 years old, just starting to develop and wear makeup which he hated with a passion. To my Dad, I was still six with a big mouth. Looking back, my father was such a weak individual. He was drug addicted, high school educated, never had any self-worth, and looked at me as the only good thing he had ever done in his whole life (he actually told me that all the time). I looked at my Dad very differently after I turned 13. I started working as a babysitter so I had a little of my own money and a little more freedom. I had lots of friends and junior high was a blast. Not only did I not have anything in common with him, but I simply had better things to do. I really didn't have much to do with my mother or my step-father at that point, but giving up an entire weekend to be with a depressed, drug addicted, scruffy looking biker? I really just told him honestly that I didn't want to see him anymore. I wanted him to stop smoking pot, get a real job, stop being a biker and stop taking me to weird biker hangouts to buy drugs that made me feel incredibly unsafe. I wanted him to grow up and be a role model for me. I also told him (a little later into my 20's) that he was teaching me exactly what NOT to do, for which I am grateful. Most of my parental influences have taught me what I don't want in my life, however that isn't good enough. As a parent, I want to show my boys what is possible if you do the right things and have some dreams you follow. I want to show them that everyone makes mistakes, but if you learn from them LOOK at what you can achieve! I want them to be proud of me, not feel sorry for me or even worse hate me. Most of all I want them to always feel like I listen to them and love them no matter what they choose.
For some time I have been in line watching my children ride the roller coaster. Sending them off to their Dad's and waiting for them to come home. I have figured out I don't have ride. I don't have to feel all the pain they feel and be angry like them, but I legally still have to send them and wait. I have also tried not to color their opinions about their Dad with mine, but how do you tell your children that it is okay if they don't have their own room, their own clothes, that they have no say about where they go or if they even spend a whole day with their Dad, that if their step-mom has a blow up to just try and go to a neutral corner because the one person who should defend them sides with her? I was lucky and my biological father let me off his roller coaster ride. He allowed me to make the choice many times and I can't tell you how much I agonized over that choice. I tried to tell my ex-husband that just because the boys make that choice right now doesn't mean his circumstances might not change or their tolerance level will increase and they will change their mind, but he isn't going to go on the ride without them. He refuses to let them take a break, so they are now making excuses like they are sick or seeing how far he will go to keep them. They conned him into letting them bring over their electronics this time, but I have a feeling the next weekend they will be told that the electronics are not allowed since there is no three hour car ride happening. He promises them outrageous things like cruises and cars when they come of age. I feel like at some point the roller coaster is headed for a treacherous derailment with no way to warn them. Is there no closed for repairs sign? Doesn't he see the warning signs?
I had both boys answer some written questions about how they felt about the divorce and each place they live before I talked to their Dad the last time. I felt they were honest and it drilled home to me the reality that both of them really just like to complain, but when it comes down to the wire they were doing okay. I feel that for them they still want to ride, just not all the time. I think that is pretty typical of life. Rides are fun sometimes, drama is exciting sometimes, stress is inevitable, but when it is all you do, see and live....you want to change it. I think it's time I got out of line and take the kids home.
I have talked to my ex-husband on several occasions and listened to him give me a laundry list of the things he has chosen to take on with his new family. I have expressed my concerns that his children do not feel like a priority to him, repeatedly. After every conversation, I tell both boys to give their Dad a chance to make some changes. The last time we spoke was about two weeks ago. It seems to me the only change that the boys reported was they were now allowed to bring their electronic devices to his house. After I pleaded with my ex-husband to spend more time with his two children, he allows them to play on their iPad and Kindle the whole weekend. He sat on the sidelines and the boys had zero interaction with him alone the entire weekend. While the boys liked finally having something to do, they both are tired of waiting for their Dad to wake up and listen to their requests for more time alone with him. Since my oldest is 13 and my youngest is 10 and they are both active in their own activities, I don't see it getting any easier for him to schedule around his other step-children. Where is the line?
I remember vividly when I decided to stop visitations with my biological father. I was 13 years old, just starting to develop and wear makeup which he hated with a passion. To my Dad, I was still six with a big mouth. Looking back, my father was such a weak individual. He was drug addicted, high school educated, never had any self-worth, and looked at me as the only good thing he had ever done in his whole life (he actually told me that all the time). I looked at my Dad very differently after I turned 13. I started working as a babysitter so I had a little of my own money and a little more freedom. I had lots of friends and junior high was a blast. Not only did I not have anything in common with him, but I simply had better things to do. I really didn't have much to do with my mother or my step-father at that point, but giving up an entire weekend to be with a depressed, drug addicted, scruffy looking biker? I really just told him honestly that I didn't want to see him anymore. I wanted him to stop smoking pot, get a real job, stop being a biker and stop taking me to weird biker hangouts to buy drugs that made me feel incredibly unsafe. I wanted him to grow up and be a role model for me. I also told him (a little later into my 20's) that he was teaching me exactly what NOT to do, for which I am grateful. Most of my parental influences have taught me what I don't want in my life, however that isn't good enough. As a parent, I want to show my boys what is possible if you do the right things and have some dreams you follow. I want to show them that everyone makes mistakes, but if you learn from them LOOK at what you can achieve! I want them to be proud of me, not feel sorry for me or even worse hate me. Most of all I want them to always feel like I listen to them and love them no matter what they choose.
For some time I have been in line watching my children ride the roller coaster. Sending them off to their Dad's and waiting for them to come home. I have figured out I don't have ride. I don't have to feel all the pain they feel and be angry like them, but I legally still have to send them and wait. I have also tried not to color their opinions about their Dad with mine, but how do you tell your children that it is okay if they don't have their own room, their own clothes, that they have no say about where they go or if they even spend a whole day with their Dad, that if their step-mom has a blow up to just try and go to a neutral corner because the one person who should defend them sides with her? I was lucky and my biological father let me off his roller coaster ride. He allowed me to make the choice many times and I can't tell you how much I agonized over that choice. I tried to tell my ex-husband that just because the boys make that choice right now doesn't mean his circumstances might not change or their tolerance level will increase and they will change their mind, but he isn't going to go on the ride without them. He refuses to let them take a break, so they are now making excuses like they are sick or seeing how far he will go to keep them. They conned him into letting them bring over their electronics this time, but I have a feeling the next weekend they will be told that the electronics are not allowed since there is no three hour car ride happening. He promises them outrageous things like cruises and cars when they come of age. I feel like at some point the roller coaster is headed for a treacherous derailment with no way to warn them. Is there no closed for repairs sign? Doesn't he see the warning signs?
I had both boys answer some written questions about how they felt about the divorce and each place they live before I talked to their Dad the last time. I felt they were honest and it drilled home to me the reality that both of them really just like to complain, but when it comes down to the wire they were doing okay. I feel that for them they still want to ride, just not all the time. I think that is pretty typical of life. Rides are fun sometimes, drama is exciting sometimes, stress is inevitable, but when it is all you do, see and live....you want to change it. I think it's time I got out of line and take the kids home.
Monday, February 18, 2013
Blue Balloons
Right now I am filled with pain. I hurt. My heart pounds inside my chest and my eyes are so sore from crying. My body is exhausted and my mind is numb. I do not have the flu or an illness to blame this on. I want to choose to forget or at least forget for a little while my pain and move through this day. I don't want my children to see me cry and worry. There is nothing they can do to take away my pain. I know where it comes from. It began long ago. I hurt.
I cannot change this pain. I can't cover it with make up or eat enough food to fill it up. Nothing I buy or give away will change how I feel. No matter how many times I donate blood, break my back for a friend, help my kids with their homework, read to their classes, throw parties for them, give my energy to make another's day it does not stop this pain. No matter how much I love my life or love the people in it, I will always have this hurt. No books or religion hold the remedy for this hurt. No medicine internal or external can relieve my pain. Nobody can love me enough to make this torture end.
Sometimes I wake up and it's better. I see the beauty in the sunshine and the smile of my loved ones. I kiss my kitten and she almost giggles at me. The drive to work isn't filled with no-driving egg heads out to ruin my day. Work is blissfully easy and goes quickly. I have food and cook quietly while my children tell me about their fantastic day of little miracles and we spend time together laughing. Some times I lay my head down and my pillow feels like heaven. Not today.
What do you do when you know what causes your pain, but there is no remedy? I cope. I talk. I try. I lie to myself. I get busy with other things in my life that I can enjoy, but the pain still returns. I am still grieving for my expectations. I have acceptance, even forgiveness, but I have so much pain because in all the stages of my life I have had no parents. It affects me in so many ways daily. I realize I'm not alone and I'm old enough now that I don't need a parent, but there were so many times when I did. Children need adults to guide them. Children need to know that they are not alone. Children need a time when they aren't afraid. Children need to be encouraged to try even if they fail. Children need to hear that the only opinion that matters is theirs. Children need parents that can model these behaviors. If they don't have these things, I don't think they can truly ever grow up or change life for the better. They are left with a horrible pain, anger, incredible resentment, fear, mistrust, and independence.
Worst of all, it is a cycle. I understand my parents. I know my grandparents. I have talked to all of them so much about how they felt as children. What happened to shape them into the people they are. It is the biggest challenge in my life to PARENT my children and stop this cycle of abuse. I want my children to be proud of me and to learn from me about being responsible and being an adult. I want them to develop their own passion and confidence to guide them in their decisions, not fear. I want them to know I will stand with them through any consequences, but I will not take their choices away out of my fear. I want them to know real love, the kind that comes from within themselves, and never doubt they will always be alright even long after I'm gone. I want to love my children for who they really are, not how I want them to be or what they do for me. Most of all I want them to grow up at a normal pace and have a normal childhood. I just don't know what a normal childhood is.
I don't want my children to have so much pain in their lives. I don't want so much pain in my life, but I know I am the only one that can stop my pain by letting it go. Today I bought a blue balloon and let it go. It was only a little pain. It was that I didn't have a wedding because I was angry. I didn't want my step-father to walk me down the isle and too hurt or too scared to ask my biological father to attend, because of the changes that would make in my life and the people I would hurt. So I gave up my dream of having a big wedding and gave up my dream of having a good marriage the same day by marrying the wrong man being desperate for someone to love me. It was only a small part of my pain, but I let that go. It felt good. I feel a little better. I still have a lot of hurt to let go, but there are a lot of balloons.
I cannot change this pain. I can't cover it with make up or eat enough food to fill it up. Nothing I buy or give away will change how I feel. No matter how many times I donate blood, break my back for a friend, help my kids with their homework, read to their classes, throw parties for them, give my energy to make another's day it does not stop this pain. No matter how much I love my life or love the people in it, I will always have this hurt. No books or religion hold the remedy for this hurt. No medicine internal or external can relieve my pain. Nobody can love me enough to make this torture end.
Sometimes I wake up and it's better. I see the beauty in the sunshine and the smile of my loved ones. I kiss my kitten and she almost giggles at me. The drive to work isn't filled with no-driving egg heads out to ruin my day. Work is blissfully easy and goes quickly. I have food and cook quietly while my children tell me about their fantastic day of little miracles and we spend time together laughing. Some times I lay my head down and my pillow feels like heaven. Not today.
What do you do when you know what causes your pain, but there is no remedy? I cope. I talk. I try. I lie to myself. I get busy with other things in my life that I can enjoy, but the pain still returns. I am still grieving for my expectations. I have acceptance, even forgiveness, but I have so much pain because in all the stages of my life I have had no parents. It affects me in so many ways daily. I realize I'm not alone and I'm old enough now that I don't need a parent, but there were so many times when I did. Children need adults to guide them. Children need to know that they are not alone. Children need a time when they aren't afraid. Children need to be encouraged to try even if they fail. Children need to hear that the only opinion that matters is theirs. Children need parents that can model these behaviors. If they don't have these things, I don't think they can truly ever grow up or change life for the better. They are left with a horrible pain, anger, incredible resentment, fear, mistrust, and independence.
Worst of all, it is a cycle. I understand my parents. I know my grandparents. I have talked to all of them so much about how they felt as children. What happened to shape them into the people they are. It is the biggest challenge in my life to PARENT my children and stop this cycle of abuse. I want my children to be proud of me and to learn from me about being responsible and being an adult. I want them to develop their own passion and confidence to guide them in their decisions, not fear. I want them to know I will stand with them through any consequences, but I will not take their choices away out of my fear. I want them to know real love, the kind that comes from within themselves, and never doubt they will always be alright even long after I'm gone. I want to love my children for who they really are, not how I want them to be or what they do for me. Most of all I want them to grow up at a normal pace and have a normal childhood. I just don't know what a normal childhood is.
I don't want my children to have so much pain in their lives. I don't want so much pain in my life, but I know I am the only one that can stop my pain by letting it go. Today I bought a blue balloon and let it go. It was only a little pain. It was that I didn't have a wedding because I was angry. I didn't want my step-father to walk me down the isle and too hurt or too scared to ask my biological father to attend, because of the changes that would make in my life and the people I would hurt. So I gave up my dream of having a big wedding and gave up my dream of having a good marriage the same day by marrying the wrong man being desperate for someone to love me. It was only a small part of my pain, but I let that go. It felt good. I feel a little better. I still have a lot of hurt to let go, but there are a lot of balloons.
Thursday, February 7, 2013
Bent
I feel like I'm bent. Not broken, not incapable of functioning, but there is a difficulty. I'm affected somehow on a subconscious and every increasingly conscious level that there is a fundamental difference between the way I think, speak, function and they way other "normal" people do. I'm different somehow. I don't seem to fit in, but I have many friends. I don't have a best friend. I realize at 41 best friends may be an outdated concept, but I just feel strange about reaching out sometimes just to have a conversation. I'm jealous of people that do have that kind of connection. I am starting to become more internal and I'm not really sure why. I have less tolerance for immaturity except from people who are truly immature like children and it seems I'm surrounded by drama queens and Peter Pans. I want to pursue Buddhism, gardening, and write. I have a hard time seeing the point in developing any work relationships, because I don't want to work at this job for any longer than it takes to become an independent writer. I love my friends, but I also can't stand some of them for more than an hour. I get home and take a shower and thank God I'm not them. I have ever increasing empathy for all the people I get to know, because it is easier to see their reasons and courage despite their circumstances. It is easier to understand the why, but my choice is just to not participate, join or belong. Maybe I just need a different place to belong, different friends, different definitions of normal. How does a person do that? What is this pull to someplace different?
I think this bending began a long time ago. I think I've been bending and bending trying to fit in to what other people's expectations were of me. I think my divorce was a breaking point. Either I quit bending or I would break, but I am now forever bent. My focus is different. It's like I was standing up my whole life and now I'm in one of those weird yoga poses trying desperately to stretch out the kinks and find some inner peace. I gravitate toward people that are in transition. I crave new books, new ideas, new anything. Maybe this is what mid-life crisis is like? Maybe I'm just bored with everything. Maybe I'm just starting to define what is really important to me.
One of my biggest fears of getting older is that my children will grow up and have these wonderful experiences going to college and being on their own and I will just be old and lonely. I refuse to do this! I refuse to keep working a dead end good job and eat myself into a 300 pound misery cushion, because all of my coping mechanisms have been stripped away except for food. I have changed my eating habits, but when travel, art, and age limit you between what is financially possible and what you really enjoy, then you have to really start to look at what you CAN really enjoy right now. When you begin one life and build up your dreams stacking them neatly on top of each other, you are at the bottom and can't see everyone else slipping their own added expectations on to your pile. The weight gets heavier and heavier until all of the sudden you're bent. Even worse when life comes along and rips the foundation out from under you, the stack of dreams falls all over smashing to pieces and you are left bent with nothing you recognize. I don't mind being bent and rebuilding, but I'm not entirely sure what to build. The pieces of my dreams don't fit and little slivers of expectations keep getting stuck where they don't belong. It's like changing your make up for the first time since high school. You stand back in the mirror and ask, "Is this me? Can I pull off this pink of a blusher? Do people wear this color of blue or am I going to look like a total prostitute?" You want to trust the sales woman who just spent the better part of 15 minutes applying the new product, but you also want to retreat back to the same old comfortable brown eyeliner and lip gloss that carried you through two of the most important relationships of your young life. Maybe the NEW just needs time to grow on me? I guess I have until my son's graduation.
I bought a house a short time ago and couldn't be happier with the purchase. I, however, didn't buy a house for me. It is a huge debt, huge responsibility, and a huge hassle since I'm not the best at maintenance. I bought a house for my family. I wanted the children to have a home. I wanted to paint their rooms and decorate with their artwork in a space we could truly express ourselves. I wanted them to feel comfortable an invite their friends over. I wanted to invest in something that might give me a return or help me pay for college if I sold it. It gives me a place to practice being myself. I'm gaining confidence by repairing my broken drain and fixing the toilet. I feel good knowing that my children think of my house as their home. I have noticed that the first week excitement has passed and now the reality of being stuck here until my kids graduate high school is bumming me out. Still, I have decided to use this time for improving the curb appeal and resale value of this house and to really begin to write. This house doesn't have to be prison, it can still be my refuge until I decide I'm ready to swim for it and brave the unknown ocean again. I don't know where this restlessness is coming from? Is it possible that it's just a side affect of freedom? Do I feel like this because for the first time in my life I'm just not afraid of what comes next?
Being bent is not being broken and I guess at some point we all look within and acknowledge something is different. I'm not a girl anymore. I have wrinkles. My back hurts sometimes when it rains. My friends are different people and some are exactly the same as they were in high school. It's harder to maintain friendships and feel that closeness that you had when you told someone everything, because frankly we all make mistakes and might not want people to know everything. Maybe I am afraid of being that intimate with anyone? Maybe I don't trust them enough to understand me? I do entertain a lot of crazy notions and ideas. I think that is why I like writing. Blank pages don't judge or mock me. They are open and friendly waiting to be filled with details. Unfortunately, telling a joke on paper is not as fun as hearing your friends laughter. Books don't hug you, although they may tug at your heartstrings and stimulate your brain. Maybe I'm just bent in a weird direction right now and as time goes on that part of me will loosen and my perspective will change. I am much more conscious of all my decisions and the consequences of all my decisions now and I like that awareness even if it brings more stress. Cautious has never been who I am, but I guess that is why it feels different. It's hard to be the same person, yet different in so many ways. I struggle with bent.
I think this bending began a long time ago. I think I've been bending and bending trying to fit in to what other people's expectations were of me. I think my divorce was a breaking point. Either I quit bending or I would break, but I am now forever bent. My focus is different. It's like I was standing up my whole life and now I'm in one of those weird yoga poses trying desperately to stretch out the kinks and find some inner peace. I gravitate toward people that are in transition. I crave new books, new ideas, new anything. Maybe this is what mid-life crisis is like? Maybe I'm just bored with everything. Maybe I'm just starting to define what is really important to me.
One of my biggest fears of getting older is that my children will grow up and have these wonderful experiences going to college and being on their own and I will just be old and lonely. I refuse to do this! I refuse to keep working a dead end good job and eat myself into a 300 pound misery cushion, because all of my coping mechanisms have been stripped away except for food. I have changed my eating habits, but when travel, art, and age limit you between what is financially possible and what you really enjoy, then you have to really start to look at what you CAN really enjoy right now. When you begin one life and build up your dreams stacking them neatly on top of each other, you are at the bottom and can't see everyone else slipping their own added expectations on to your pile. The weight gets heavier and heavier until all of the sudden you're bent. Even worse when life comes along and rips the foundation out from under you, the stack of dreams falls all over smashing to pieces and you are left bent with nothing you recognize. I don't mind being bent and rebuilding, but I'm not entirely sure what to build. The pieces of my dreams don't fit and little slivers of expectations keep getting stuck where they don't belong. It's like changing your make up for the first time since high school. You stand back in the mirror and ask, "Is this me? Can I pull off this pink of a blusher? Do people wear this color of blue or am I going to look like a total prostitute?" You want to trust the sales woman who just spent the better part of 15 minutes applying the new product, but you also want to retreat back to the same old comfortable brown eyeliner and lip gloss that carried you through two of the most important relationships of your young life. Maybe the NEW just needs time to grow on me? I guess I have until my son's graduation.
I bought a house a short time ago and couldn't be happier with the purchase. I, however, didn't buy a house for me. It is a huge debt, huge responsibility, and a huge hassle since I'm not the best at maintenance. I bought a house for my family. I wanted the children to have a home. I wanted to paint their rooms and decorate with their artwork in a space we could truly express ourselves. I wanted them to feel comfortable an invite their friends over. I wanted to invest in something that might give me a return or help me pay for college if I sold it. It gives me a place to practice being myself. I'm gaining confidence by repairing my broken drain and fixing the toilet. I feel good knowing that my children think of my house as their home. I have noticed that the first week excitement has passed and now the reality of being stuck here until my kids graduate high school is bumming me out. Still, I have decided to use this time for improving the curb appeal and resale value of this house and to really begin to write. This house doesn't have to be prison, it can still be my refuge until I decide I'm ready to swim for it and brave the unknown ocean again. I don't know where this restlessness is coming from? Is it possible that it's just a side affect of freedom? Do I feel like this because for the first time in my life I'm just not afraid of what comes next?
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