Six years ago, Samuel Elliott made me a mother of two and Charles Andrew a big brother.
Oh My Samuel.
The day you were born: it was a Friday just like today -- the 13th. Arrived at 12:04 pm, to be exact. You came into this world in a relatively uncomplicated way. There was a small issue with a pesky epidural that creeped up on one side as far as to my lungs, but other than that, it was a wonderful birth. I was so surprised when I saw you. I was somehow expecting another little Charlie ... and the very first moment I ever saw you, I realized that you were NOT Charlie. Everything from your appearance to your cry to your manner let me know that I should prepare for something special. And, indeed, it has been.
I thought I knew how to parent until you came along. You very quickly let me know "um, no, I don't think so. THIS is the way we are going to play this game this time, thankyouverymuch". What a wonderful experience that is? A mixed bag, of course. Sometimes, we all long for easy or just to feel like we know what we are doing. Because you are so different, I rarely have the opportunity to think I know it all or have all the answers. What this really means is that I can't be complacent in my parenting. And *that* is truly a blessing (okay, sometimes in disguise).
Your brother was all Daddy's boy; you appreciated my company more. Your brother was so quiet and easy going, rarely fussing. While you fussed more, you also were comforted by me and enjoyed being with me more. As a parent, that is a little intoxicating. It's an awfully powerful feeling to know that someone loves you so much. It's easy to love when we feel loved, right? But I already loved you, so it just made it that much more endearing. In some respects, you might not have been as "easy" to care for as your brother had been -- but you also brought with you so much joy.
Your smile has a way of magically coaxing my smile every time. Your laughter reminds me of all the mirth and possibility in life, every time I hear it. Your casual confidence in yourself both intimidates and encourages me. You are strong of spirit and in conviction, knowing who you are and what your preferences are, even as young as you are. I don't know how you know this at 6, but you somehow do. You may not be a leader, but you have never been a follower. These things in you inspire and uplift me. If I am here to teach you to grow, please know that you are teaching me, too.
I pray that I am all the parent you deserve and more.
I pray that I never take for granted the time and space granted to us.
I pray that I am able to guide you to grow into a man of both strength and of gentle spirit. A man of grace and kindness.
I pray that you know and feel every day how much I love you, and how much I enjoy you.
Being your mom isn't always easy. But it's easily the best part of my life.
All my love,
Jennifer
PS . . . And thank you for a great, great day today. The pool, the movie, the cake, the presents. ... I had the best day with you today.
Friday, August 13, 2010
Monday, July 19, 2010
Freak Food
Tonight, I was reminded of something I had heard sometime ago. Word on the street is that there is (was?) a local-ish hot dog venue that has .... an unusual best seller. I can't confirm this and am trying to find someone who has even heard of this "bestseller" but it is, apparently: a hot dog with peanut butter, pimento cheese, pineapple and salsa on it.
A hot dog. With peanut butter. Pimento cheese. Pineapple. And salsa.
Which sounds ..... gross. I mean really, really ... gross.
But make no mistake about it, that doesn't mean I wouldn't eat it. I prolly would.
And I know I would at least try it because I have this odd thing about peanut butter. No, I am not crazy about it. I don't eat it with all my meals. I don't eat it straight of a jar. I can't stand peanut butter cereal. But I like peanut butter IN things, with things. I don't know why. Jess do.
For example, I knew my husband was the one for me when he (very early on) confessed that he enjoyed peanut butter on his waffles. I thought I was the only one who loved peanut butter and breakfast. I knew NO ONE ELSE who liked it and here was this man freely confessing his appreciateionfor the same. I felt as thought I had found my Man Tribe. (Yeah, apparently, I should really reconsider my standards, yes? *snicker*) Since then, I have learned that there is an entire underground cult that actually enjoys peanut butter on breakfast foods. Admittedly: I am in Camp Pancake whereas my husband is in Camp Waffles. (Take that, Bella.)
Slightly less odd (I think), is that I've heard of people adding peanut butter to chili. I can see this. It makes sense. It's subtle, would cut the chili, thicken it and make you go "whaaa is in dis chili that makes it ser inter-wrestin?" Again, I haven't tried it, but I am not turned off by how odd it is.
After all this, it probably comes as no surprise that my personal Odd Food involves peanut butter: I like a small swirl of peanut butter in my chicken ramen noodles, with a dash of hot sauce added. I think of it as Thai food for the Collegiate Poor. It ain't gourmet but it's purdy good. Every one else thinks I've lost my ever lovin' mind.
And, really, that's why I am here today. Odd foods. We all eat them. We all love something that you have to defend as "y'all, seriously, I know it sounds weird but it's actually good." I want to know what yours is.
Try me.
Surprise me.
Make me raise an eyebrow and question your intelligence. (This post is fun for the whole family!)
I will tell you that you are up against some serious competition. Currently, one of my parents has the title as Food Freak. Her snack of choice -- when the mood strikes her -- are unfrosted blueberry poptarts, sandwiching green olives. y e a h. Shudder.
But I appreciate her eccentric tastes.
Because as long as she's around, no one can make fun of mine!
*****
What's your bizarre snack of choice?
A hot dog. With peanut butter. Pimento cheese. Pineapple. And salsa.
Which sounds ..... gross. I mean really, really ... gross.
But make no mistake about it, that doesn't mean I wouldn't eat it. I prolly would.
And I know I would at least try it because I have this odd thing about peanut butter. No, I am not crazy about it. I don't eat it with all my meals. I don't eat it straight of a jar. I can't stand peanut butter cereal. But I like peanut butter IN things, with things. I don't know why. Jess do.
For example, I knew my husband was the one for me when he (very early on) confessed that he enjoyed peanut butter on his waffles. I thought I was the only one who loved peanut butter and breakfast. I knew NO ONE ELSE who liked it and here was this man freely confessing his appreciateionfor the same. I felt as thought I had found my Man Tribe. (Yeah, apparently, I should really reconsider my standards, yes? *snicker*) Since then, I have learned that there is an entire underground cult that actually enjoys peanut butter on breakfast foods. Admittedly: I am in Camp Pancake whereas my husband is in Camp Waffles. (Take that, Bella.)
Slightly less odd (I think), is that I've heard of people adding peanut butter to chili. I can see this. It makes sense. It's subtle, would cut the chili, thicken it and make you go "whaaa is in dis chili that makes it ser inter-wrestin?" Again, I haven't tried it, but I am not turned off by how odd it is.
After all this, it probably comes as no surprise that my personal Odd Food involves peanut butter: I like a small swirl of peanut butter in my chicken ramen noodles, with a dash of hot sauce added. I think of it as Thai food for the Collegiate Poor. It ain't gourmet but it's purdy good. Every one else thinks I've lost my ever lovin' mind.
And, really, that's why I am here today. Odd foods. We all eat them. We all love something that you have to defend as "y'all, seriously, I know it sounds weird but it's actually good." I want to know what yours is.
Try me.
Surprise me.
Make me raise an eyebrow and question your intelligence. (This post is fun for the whole family!)
I will tell you that you are up against some serious competition. Currently, one of my parents has the title as Food Freak. Her snack of choice -- when the mood strikes her -- are unfrosted blueberry poptarts, sandwiching green olives. y e a h. Shudder.
But I appreciate her eccentric tastes.
Because as long as she's around, no one can make fun of mine!
*****
What's your bizarre snack of choice?
Sunday, July 18, 2010
101 Things in 1001 Days
A list of 101 things I plan to complete in 1001 days:
(I have to figure out a way where I can update you on the status. Stay tuned. For now, I've completed 2 whole ones. That's like, 2% people. I am on a ROLL!)
List Started: June 27th, 2010
Scheduled Finish Date: March 24th, 2013
1. Make a homemade macaroni & cheese my family loves.
2. Make chocolate chip oatmeal cookies.
3. Make homemade banana ice cream.
4. Learn to make Grandmama's biscuits.
5. Make a homemade cheesecake.
6. Teach Charlie to cook a meal. COMPLETED, 8/1/2010
7. Eat at home for 30 days.
8. Grow basil.
9. Plant lavender in the front yard.
10. Plant tomatoes on the back deck.
11. Organize the basement.
12. Clean out the garage.
13. Have a yard sale
14. Get Nana's needlepoint from Dad. Clean & Hang.
15. Paint a picture.
16. Finish the hand tree printing for myself.
17. Make a handprint tree for Mom.
18. Make a handprint tree for Dad.
19. Watch Casablanca.
20. Have a BBC Pride & Prejudice marathon.
21. Make an apron.
22. Knit a scarf.
23. Finish the quilt. Give it to Crickett.
24. Finish the embroidered baby blanket.
25. Keep a grateful calendar for 60 days.
26. Organize photos and memorabilia.
27. Compile Charlie's journal.
28. Compile Sam's journal.
29. Write a letter to my children on their birthday. Sam: Aug. 13, '10
30. Write my mom a letter for my birthday.
31. Write 3 chapters.
32. Publish a piece.
33. Read 24 books:
The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. 7/5/2010
Confederates in the Attic. 7/11/2010
The Stone Diaries 7/31/2010
34. Read with Sam 20 minutes a day for 30 days.
35. Write 30 blogs for 30 days.
36. Get 25 blog suscribers.
37. Attend BlogHer.
38. Go to Chicago with John.
39. Spend a weekend in a B&B.
40. Take the family to Disney.
41. Take a trip with Kari.
42. Take my family to spend time with Linda & Grandmama in Georgia twice.
43. Fly in to Colorado to surprise my parents for the weekend.
44. Have breakfast with my Dad -- just the two of us.
45. Have a girls weekend with my mom.
46. Go to the Station Inn. COMPLETED, 7/10/2010
47. Go to the Grand Ole Opry @ the Ryman.
48. Attend a Broadway musical.
49. Aquire a piano.
50. Learn to play 3 songs on the piano.
51. Take voice lessons.
52. Give a 45 minute recital.
53. Make my own CD. (er, aiming high here)
54. Audition for the Nashville Symphony Chorus.
55. Quit biting my nails.
56. Exercise 3 days a week for 3 months.
57. Take a dance class.
58. Zumba. (That's a verb, right?)
59. Lose 20 pounds.
60. Complete a 5K.
61. Give blood.
62. Donate to St. Jude's.
63. Volunteer 15 hours of my time to an organization.
64. Build my own personal savings account to $1500.
65. Tame the budget beast.
66. Enroll in a master's program.
67. Make a change in my career of some sort.
68. Use my library card downtown 12 times.
69. Learn about photography. (Either class or book.)
70. Go to the movies by myself.
71. See the Chihuly exhibit.
72. Go star gazing.
73. Go on a day hike.
74. Go to 3 national parks.
75. Go white water rafting.
76. Attend a professional football game.
77. Watch Charlie or Sam in a sports game.
78. Go a fieldtrip with Charlie's class.
79. Go on a fieldtrip with Sam's class.
80. Spend a day with Charlie doing whatever he wants.
81. Spend a day with Sam doing whatever he wants.
82. Ride bicycles with the boys.
83. Build a fort out of blankets.
84. Do a lemonade stand with the boys.
85. Play in the rain.
86. Food Fight!
87. Take the boys horseback riding.
88. Spend a Saturday tooling around Franklin ... or Chattanooga.
89. Go to the Wilson County Fair. COMPLETED, 8/21/2010
90. Visit the Hermitage for a day.
91. See at movie at the Belcourt.
92. Find a church that is good for the family.
93. Finish holiday shopping and wrapping by Dec 15. (John laughs hysterically at this, FYI.)
94. Make a religious holiday advent tradition with Charlie and Sam.
95. Send/give a gift unexpectedly.
96. Leave a note for someone in a random place.
97. Leave a 100% tip for excellent service.
98. Do 12 nice things for people unexpectedly and at random times.
99. Reconnect with an old friend.
100. Apologize. Sincerely. COMPLETED
101. Say I Love You once in the most creative way possible.
What to you think? What would you put on your list?
(I have to figure out a way where I can update you on the status. Stay tuned. For now, I've completed 2 whole ones. That's like, 2% people. I am on a ROLL!)
List Started: June 27th, 2010
Scheduled Finish Date: March 24th, 2013
1. Make a homemade macaroni & cheese my family loves.
2. Make chocolate chip oatmeal cookies.
3. Make homemade banana ice cream.
4. Learn to make Grandmama's biscuits.
5. Make a homemade cheesecake.
6. Teach Charlie to cook a meal. COMPLETED, 8/1/2010
7. Eat at home for 30 days.
8. Grow basil.
9. Plant lavender in the front yard.
10. Plant tomatoes on the back deck.
11. Organize the basement.
12. Clean out the garage.
13. Have a yard sale
14. Get Nana's needlepoint from Dad. Clean & Hang.
15. Paint a picture.
16. Finish the hand tree printing for myself.
17. Make a handprint tree for Mom.
18. Make a handprint tree for Dad.
19. Watch Casablanca.
20. Have a BBC Pride & Prejudice marathon.
21. Make an apron.
22. Knit a scarf.
23. Finish the quilt. Give it to Crickett.
24. Finish the embroidered baby blanket.
25. Keep a grateful calendar for 60 days.
26. Organize photos and memorabilia.
27. Compile Charlie's journal.
28. Compile Sam's journal.
29. Write a letter to my children on their birthday. Sam: Aug. 13, '10
30. Write my mom a letter for my birthday.
31. Write 3 chapters.
32. Publish a piece.
33. Read 24 books:
The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. 7/5/2010
Confederates in the Attic. 7/11/2010
The Stone Diaries 7/31/2010
34. Read with Sam 20 minutes a day for 30 days.
35. Write 30 blogs for 30 days.
36. Get 25 blog suscribers.
37. Attend BlogHer.
38. Go to Chicago with John.
39. Spend a weekend in a B&B.
40. Take the family to Disney.
41. Take a trip with Kari.
42. Take my family to spend time with Linda & Grandmama in Georgia twice.
43. Fly in to Colorado to surprise my parents for the weekend.
44. Have breakfast with my Dad -- just the two of us.
45. Have a girls weekend with my mom.
46. Go to the Station Inn. COMPLETED, 7/10/2010
47. Go to the Grand Ole Opry @ the Ryman.
48. Attend a Broadway musical.
49. Aquire a piano.
50. Learn to play 3 songs on the piano.
51. Take voice lessons.
52. Give a 45 minute recital.
53. Make my own CD. (er, aiming high here)
54. Audition for the Nashville Symphony Chorus.
55. Quit biting my nails.
56. Exercise 3 days a week for 3 months.
57. Take a dance class.
58. Zumba. (That's a verb, right?)
59. Lose 20 pounds.
60. Complete a 5K.
61. Give blood.
62. Donate to St. Jude's.
63. Volunteer 15 hours of my time to an organization.
64. Build my own personal savings account to $1500.
65. Tame the budget beast.
66. Enroll in a master's program.
67. Make a change in my career of some sort.
68. Use my library card downtown 12 times.
69. Learn about photography. (Either class or book.)
70. Go to the movies by myself.
71. See the Chihuly exhibit.
72. Go star gazing.
73. Go on a day hike.
74. Go to 3 national parks.
75. Go white water rafting.
76. Attend a professional football game.
77. Watch Charlie or Sam in a sports game.
78. Go a fieldtrip with Charlie's class.
79. Go on a fieldtrip with Sam's class.
80. Spend a day with Charlie doing whatever he wants.
81. Spend a day with Sam doing whatever he wants.
82. Ride bicycles with the boys.
83. Build a fort out of blankets.
84. Do a lemonade stand with the boys.
85. Play in the rain.
86. Food Fight!
87. Take the boys horseback riding.
88. Spend a Saturday tooling around Franklin ... or Chattanooga.
89. Go to the Wilson County Fair. COMPLETED, 8/21/2010
90. Visit the Hermitage for a day.
91. See at movie at the Belcourt.
92. Find a church that is good for the family.
93. Finish holiday shopping and wrapping by Dec 15. (John laughs hysterically at this, FYI.)
94. Make a religious holiday advent tradition with Charlie and Sam.
95. Send/give a gift unexpectedly.
96. Leave a note for someone in a random place.
97. Leave a 100% tip for excellent service.
98. Do 12 nice things for people unexpectedly and at random times.
99. Reconnect with an old friend.
100. Apologize. Sincerely. COMPLETED
101. Say I Love You once in the most creative way possible.
What to you think? What would you put on your list?
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Evolution
Something about me has changed.
Tomorrow, I will get to feel like me again – the irony being that I will get to feel like a me I haven’t been before, while having always been who I am. Allow me to explain. Charlie and Sam come home to me after spending half the summer with their father, who lives in a different state. And, for the first time, I feel I will be both mom and me.
While sharing parenthood with an ex is not necessarily my favorite part of parenthood, I've always been at least able to appreciate the reprieve that this time has allowed me. Yes, of course I missed them terribly and felt their absence deeply. But their summers were also the only time where I got to think about who I wanted to be while I had time and freedom to choose so. Summers were sad, but they were also very fun. And I don’t feel guilty about that. I needed that.
Whenever possible, my summers alone were spent in spontaneity—something rarely afforded single parents and deeply relished by this one in particular. Because I was always tied to being somewhere at any given time, I loved being able to go and do when I wanted –even if I didn't necessarily know where I wanted to go or what I wanted to do to begin with. It didn’t matter. I had time and ability to figure it out as it organically unfolded within me. Chinese takeout and a rented movie at 9:30 at night? Why not? Reading in a park after work until sunset? Don’t mind if I do. Sometimes, I would just get in the car and drive. Once, I found myself 5 hours from home and in Atlanta for the weekend on a spur of the moment decision and 17 minutes to get my things out the door. I went out to eat food that wasn’t from a window, wore high heels, drank martinis with friends and watched the sun rise. It was beautiful and crazy and impetuous and I loved it. For just a little while, I could believe in things like Possibility and Potential, rather than living in Providing and Planning and Protecting. Do not misunderstand me. I love being their parent -- but I loved me, too. You know, the me I could have been before I was their me?
And if we were discussing this face to face, if this was a conversation we were having together over tea on my back porch, this is where I would quit gazing out into memory and return to the moment, looking at you with a quiet smile. This is where a pause would hang in the air and you would understand the turn of it all.
On a Wednesday night, doing something as mundane as chopping cucumbers, I evaluated. This summer had been a good one. I realized that I did a few of the same types of activities as expected. Not all, but some. No real girl’s night out, no staying up until sunrise -- but there was one amazing trip of a lifetime. I read. I actually read for hours and hours. Days, even. I slept in, lazed about, ate wonderful meals at restaurants without playgrounds, went to the cinema on a Tuesday night after work. It was certainly a tamer summer, but I wasn’t at all bored. I was absolutely satisfied. There was… a peace about this summer. Yes -- very quiet. What was different about my summer? I couldn’t put my finger on it. Think. Think. Think. Why was this summer so much better than the other summers if it was, generally speaking more tame? Why wasn’t I approaching this summer with the same drive?
Rather than living vicariously through this other summer-only-me, I simply … was. I did. Big verbs with very little action. And it was perfect? Yes, and it was perfect.
I didn’t wake up every morning, evaluating every day as time I need to wring for all it’s worth so that the memory of what I experienced could rejuvenate me all year long while working two jobs and being frustrated with a messy apartment that I didn’t care to clean after working all day and parenting all evening … all by myself, all the time. I didn’t need this summer to recuperate from my life. I didn’t need this summer to slip into a me that was really enjoyable in light of its transient and temporary nature. I didn’t need this summer … to escape.
Quietly, and without giving in to it, I let it wash over me, continuing as if nothing at all in the world had changed. I chopped cucumbers while my throat was thick and tears streamed down my cheeks. My summer was the same. *I* was different. This was the first summer in five … that I wasn’t a single mom.
Part question, part affirmation: I didn’t need this summer to escape? I … I am happy? I am safe? Yes. I don’t have to store away the easy parts of my life in summer to get me through the rest of the year? Summer has always been my season of reprieve. And I no longer needed one. Because I have one, every day. His name is John.
Having a best friend as a husband means not having to do it all alone. It means not having to be afraid all the time. It means not having to be so tired. It means being able to think of my life in terms of what I want to do rather than working out how I am going to manage it all, all the time. I think I wavered at one, faulty at the knife and my vision clouded with tears, such that the realization almost – literally – cut to the quick.
He actively helps me parent our children together every day. We have a home together. We can build a plan together. I know that we can depend on each other, account to each other. Even when we drive each other nuts, we ultimately respect one another and attempt to show that every day. Best of all, he makes me laugh so much that it’s hard to stay mad at him. I don’t have to live the fun and easy parts of my life just in the summer… because I am now living it every day.
For the first time in years, the support I have gives me the ability to decide what I want in life, where I want to go, who I want to be. In this quiet season of our early marriage, and without realizing it, I’ve been cocooning myself. Healing from the stress of what was my life, sitting in the stillness and making decisions on what will emerge from all this change, I am changing. And, in that quiet, the answer is surprising me. When I think of what I want in my life, all I am thinking of is … them. Ah, yes, coming full circle, back to Charlie and to Sam, to my new family.
For the first time in my life, my goals are less about what I want to do professionally, less about who I want to be and more about simply experiencing life … a life with them. I may not have always made the best choices, but I always eventually come back to the same path. I want to be successful, even just moderately so. Something I can be proud of, something that expresses who I am and what I am capable of, being deemed sufficient and worthy. It’s not that I am putting down career, because I will continue to work and it’s not in my nature to not advance. But I don’t have the same drive as I had before. Previously, getting a graduate degree was a very strong drive. It was an investment that I felt was worth the sacrifice. I still think it’s worth it and plan to continue but the intensity has waned. It’s no longer worth the sacrifice of time right now. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that Charlie turned 9 this year – a bit of milestone for me. Whereas most people appreciate the significance of being an entire decade old, I couldn’t stop thinking about how it’s half gone. Somehow, he was an infant and I blinked and then I only have half the time remaining until he is of legal age, moving beyond me and into a life of his own.
This marriage, and maybe coupled with the realization that time is marching, is changing me. I’ve been married before. Now I want to be a good wife. I’ve been a mother for nine years. I wanna be a mom. I don’t have the same fear of the wolf at the door having to provide for two children in a terrifying economy of unemployment. I now have space and room to think about things like which sport is best for which child? or what do I really want to impart on my children while they are still listening to me? or even hell, what am I going to make for dinner? All of it, from the biggest things to the smallest daily grind that makes a life … a life worth living.
Do not misunderstand me. I am not saying that single mothers can’t have complete lives. I am not saying all families have to have two parents or that all people should have spouses for an easier, more successful life. If that were the case, I might not have been a single mom for five years. I am not saying marriage in and of itself is the answer. I am talking about me and my life. Had I made different choices along the way, I might have had more professional opportunities that allowed for an easier lifestyle as a single mom. Either way, and no matter who you are, it’s still not easy having to be anyone’s everything, children included.
What I am saying is that getting married to the right person changed my life for the better. Love and companionship has allowed me an opportunity for peace of mind and happiness. In a very real way, I have an experience that shows me definitively the redeeming power love can have on a life. Love can make all the difference. I could apologize for the cliché or the cheesiness of how that sounds, but I won’t -- because love is nothing to apologize for.
Neither is being who you want to be or having a life you love.
Tomorrow, I will get to feel like me again – the irony being that I will get to feel like a me I haven’t been before, while having always been who I am. Allow me to explain. Charlie and Sam come home to me after spending half the summer with their father, who lives in a different state. And, for the first time, I feel I will be both mom and me.
While sharing parenthood with an ex is not necessarily my favorite part of parenthood, I've always been at least able to appreciate the reprieve that this time has allowed me. Yes, of course I missed them terribly and felt their absence deeply. But their summers were also the only time where I got to think about who I wanted to be while I had time and freedom to choose so. Summers were sad, but they were also very fun. And I don’t feel guilty about that. I needed that.
Whenever possible, my summers alone were spent in spontaneity—something rarely afforded single parents and deeply relished by this one in particular. Because I was always tied to being somewhere at any given time, I loved being able to go and do when I wanted –even if I didn't necessarily know where I wanted to go or what I wanted to do to begin with. It didn’t matter. I had time and ability to figure it out as it organically unfolded within me. Chinese takeout and a rented movie at 9:30 at night? Why not? Reading in a park after work until sunset? Don’t mind if I do. Sometimes, I would just get in the car and drive. Once, I found myself 5 hours from home and in Atlanta for the weekend on a spur of the moment decision and 17 minutes to get my things out the door. I went out to eat food that wasn’t from a window, wore high heels, drank martinis with friends and watched the sun rise. It was beautiful and crazy and impetuous and I loved it. For just a little while, I could believe in things like Possibility and Potential, rather than living in Providing and Planning and Protecting. Do not misunderstand me. I love being their parent -- but I loved me, too. You know, the me I could have been before I was their me?
And if we were discussing this face to face, if this was a conversation we were having together over tea on my back porch, this is where I would quit gazing out into memory and return to the moment, looking at you with a quiet smile. This is where a pause would hang in the air and you would understand the turn of it all.
On a Wednesday night, doing something as mundane as chopping cucumbers, I evaluated. This summer had been a good one. I realized that I did a few of the same types of activities as expected. Not all, but some. No real girl’s night out, no staying up until sunrise -- but there was one amazing trip of a lifetime. I read. I actually read for hours and hours. Days, even. I slept in, lazed about, ate wonderful meals at restaurants without playgrounds, went to the cinema on a Tuesday night after work. It was certainly a tamer summer, but I wasn’t at all bored. I was absolutely satisfied. There was… a peace about this summer. Yes -- very quiet. What was different about my summer? I couldn’t put my finger on it. Think. Think. Think. Why was this summer so much better than the other summers if it was, generally speaking more tame? Why wasn’t I approaching this summer with the same drive?
Rather than living vicariously through this other summer-only-me, I simply … was. I did. Big verbs with very little action. And it was perfect? Yes, and it was perfect.
I didn’t wake up every morning, evaluating every day as time I need to wring for all it’s worth so that the memory of what I experienced could rejuvenate me all year long while working two jobs and being frustrated with a messy apartment that I didn’t care to clean after working all day and parenting all evening … all by myself, all the time. I didn’t need this summer to recuperate from my life. I didn’t need this summer to slip into a me that was really enjoyable in light of its transient and temporary nature. I didn’t need this summer … to escape.
Quietly, and without giving in to it, I let it wash over me, continuing as if nothing at all in the world had changed. I chopped cucumbers while my throat was thick and tears streamed down my cheeks. My summer was the same. *I* was different. This was the first summer in five … that I wasn’t a single mom.
Part question, part affirmation: I didn’t need this summer to escape? I … I am happy? I am safe? Yes. I don’t have to store away the easy parts of my life in summer to get me through the rest of the year? Summer has always been my season of reprieve. And I no longer needed one. Because I have one, every day. His name is John.
Having a best friend as a husband means not having to do it all alone. It means not having to be afraid all the time. It means not having to be so tired. It means being able to think of my life in terms of what I want to do rather than working out how I am going to manage it all, all the time. I think I wavered at one, faulty at the knife and my vision clouded with tears, such that the realization almost – literally – cut to the quick.
He actively helps me parent our children together every day. We have a home together. We can build a plan together. I know that we can depend on each other, account to each other. Even when we drive each other nuts, we ultimately respect one another and attempt to show that every day. Best of all, he makes me laugh so much that it’s hard to stay mad at him. I don’t have to live the fun and easy parts of my life just in the summer… because I am now living it every day.
For the first time in years, the support I have gives me the ability to decide what I want in life, where I want to go, who I want to be. In this quiet season of our early marriage, and without realizing it, I’ve been cocooning myself. Healing from the stress of what was my life, sitting in the stillness and making decisions on what will emerge from all this change, I am changing. And, in that quiet, the answer is surprising me. When I think of what I want in my life, all I am thinking of is … them. Ah, yes, coming full circle, back to Charlie and to Sam, to my new family.
For the first time in my life, my goals are less about what I want to do professionally, less about who I want to be and more about simply experiencing life … a life with them. I may not have always made the best choices, but I always eventually come back to the same path. I want to be successful, even just moderately so. Something I can be proud of, something that expresses who I am and what I am capable of, being deemed sufficient and worthy. It’s not that I am putting down career, because I will continue to work and it’s not in my nature to not advance. But I don’t have the same drive as I had before. Previously, getting a graduate degree was a very strong drive. It was an investment that I felt was worth the sacrifice. I still think it’s worth it and plan to continue but the intensity has waned. It’s no longer worth the sacrifice of time right now. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that Charlie turned 9 this year – a bit of milestone for me. Whereas most people appreciate the significance of being an entire decade old, I couldn’t stop thinking about how it’s half gone. Somehow, he was an infant and I blinked and then I only have half the time remaining until he is of legal age, moving beyond me and into a life of his own.
This marriage, and maybe coupled with the realization that time is marching, is changing me. I’ve been married before. Now I want to be a good wife. I’ve been a mother for nine years. I wanna be a mom. I don’t have the same fear of the wolf at the door having to provide for two children in a terrifying economy of unemployment. I now have space and room to think about things like which sport is best for which child? or what do I really want to impart on my children while they are still listening to me? or even hell, what am I going to make for dinner? All of it, from the biggest things to the smallest daily grind that makes a life … a life worth living.
Do not misunderstand me. I am not saying that single mothers can’t have complete lives. I am not saying all families have to have two parents or that all people should have spouses for an easier, more successful life. If that were the case, I might not have been a single mom for five years. I am not saying marriage in and of itself is the answer. I am talking about me and my life. Had I made different choices along the way, I might have had more professional opportunities that allowed for an easier lifestyle as a single mom. Either way, and no matter who you are, it’s still not easy having to be anyone’s everything, children included.
What I am saying is that getting married to the right person changed my life for the better. Love and companionship has allowed me an opportunity for peace of mind and happiness. In a very real way, I have an experience that shows me definitively the redeeming power love can have on a life. Love can make all the difference. I could apologize for the cliché or the cheesiness of how that sounds, but I won’t -- because love is nothing to apologize for.
Neither is being who you want to be or having a life you love.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Pre-Marital Mania
I miss you all. More than you know. Sometimes it feels like I am missing me when I miss you. I tell you this all the time: YOU? Complete me.
I am getting married in LESS THAN a month.
And we are the dumbasses who decided to "keep it easy on ourselves" by having our reception at (what will be my new) home. Sounds great, right?
But to do that, OF COURSE we need to remodel. Yes, of course we do. Because HELLO?, everyone will notice our totally 1980s carpet and light fixtures and they will think "MY GOD, HOW CAN SHE GO ON LIVING LIKE THIS? I SHOULD SEND HER MONEY." ..... wait. . . hold on. Suddenly, I think my plan somehow went astray because now I am putting myself through all this wedding planning AND you won't even feel sorry for me living in my new house with new carpet and new paint and new light fixtures and, and . . . (hangs head) I really need to learn to think these things through better.
Yes, folks! Wedding planning AND house remodeling at the same time! Fun for the whole family! Who needs marital counseling at this rate? If we can live through this, I am pretty much thinking we are SOLID, Baby!
ANYWAY, life is manic. I can not even tell you. I am getting 4 hours of sleep a night trying to keep up with helping John in the remodeling process (I TOTALLY even peeled a WHOLE SQUARE INCH of wallpaper. BY MYSELF, Y'ALL!), kids, work and wedding planning. Of everything I do, the wedding planning probably gets the least attention. At this stage, "it'll be what it'll be". And "you know, I can't even worry about that right now. Sure, it's *a* detail, but it's not THE detail." You should come to this wedding JUST to see what I can pull off in 30 days.
Because as of today, I still have the following to do:
One bathroom that needs finishing (we have it tiled, so far. that's progress, right?)
2 bedrooms painted.
Kitchen light fixtures picked, purchased and put up.
Pictures hung on walls.
Furniture moved so that we can re-carpet the up/stairs.
Some furniture moved from my house to John’s.
Trim and doors throughout house painted.
Flowers to be chosen.
Arrangements for rehearsal dinner.
Music to be chosen, playlists created.
Sound system to be set up.
Programs and inspirational quotes to be printed.
Makeup artist to be secured.
Menu to be settled.
RSVPs to be received.
Limo company to be called.
Linens ordered.
Alcohol order to be determined, placed and picked up.
Special music arrangement, well, arranged.
Ring pillows to be made.
Lighting to be set up around the house for the big day.
Luminaries/tea lights to be purchased.
And just so you know, I panicked about all this earlier this week. My family responded and is helping me work through my mania. I'm all good in that department. But you? You can just feel sorry for me -- and send reinforcements! ;-)
I am getting married in LESS THAN a month.
And we are the dumbasses who decided to "keep it easy on ourselves" by having our reception at (what will be my new) home. Sounds great, right?
But to do that, OF COURSE we need to remodel. Yes, of course we do. Because HELLO?, everyone will notice our totally 1980s carpet and light fixtures and they will think "MY GOD, HOW CAN SHE GO ON LIVING LIKE THIS? I SHOULD SEND HER MONEY." ..... wait. . . hold on. Suddenly, I think my plan somehow went astray because now I am putting myself through all this wedding planning AND you won't even feel sorry for me living in my new house with new carpet and new paint and new light fixtures and, and . . . (hangs head) I really need to learn to think these things through better.
Yes, folks! Wedding planning AND house remodeling at the same time! Fun for the whole family! Who needs marital counseling at this rate? If we can live through this, I am pretty much thinking we are SOLID, Baby!
ANYWAY, life is manic. I can not even tell you. I am getting 4 hours of sleep a night trying to keep up with helping John in the remodeling process (I TOTALLY even peeled a WHOLE SQUARE INCH of wallpaper. BY MYSELF, Y'ALL!), kids, work and wedding planning. Of everything I do, the wedding planning probably gets the least attention. At this stage, "it'll be what it'll be". And "you know, I can't even worry about that right now. Sure, it's *a* detail, but it's not THE detail." You should come to this wedding JUST to see what I can pull off in 30 days.
Because as of today, I still have the following to do:
One bathroom that needs finishing (we have it tiled, so far. that's progress, right?)
2 bedrooms painted.
Kitchen light fixtures picked, purchased and put up.
Pictures hung on walls.
Furniture moved so that we can re-carpet the up/stairs.
Some furniture moved from my house to John’s.
Trim and doors throughout house painted.
Flowers to be chosen.
Arrangements for rehearsal dinner.
Music to be chosen, playlists created.
Sound system to be set up.
Programs and inspirational quotes to be printed.
Makeup artist to be secured.
Menu to be settled.
RSVPs to be received.
Limo company to be called.
Linens ordered.
Alcohol order to be determined, placed and picked up.
Special music arrangement, well, arranged.
Ring pillows to be made.
Lighting to be set up around the house for the big day.
Luminaries/tea lights to be purchased.
And just so you know, I panicked about all this earlier this week. My family responded and is helping me work through my mania. I'm all good in that department. But you? You can just feel sorry for me -- and send reinforcements! ;-)
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Fame and World Domination.
I used to want fame and world domination.
I dreamt of being Madonna AND a laywer. Yes, my friends. I wanted to rule it all, have it all.
Now, I want nothing more than:
a Long Island iced tea in the sun with friends.
a book in a hammock.
an appointment to have my hair done.
a really good yoga session.
coming home to a house that’s already cleaned and dinner on the table.
a day off. make that two: one to get everything done, the other to do nothing.
*amazing* hiking on the Appalachian Trail.
Maybe a few other things, but really, I would settle for any one of those. Not all. Just one.
And if I HAD all?
I would rule it all, have it all.
I dreamt of being Madonna AND a laywer. Yes, my friends. I wanted to rule it all, have it all.
Now, I want nothing more than:
a Long Island iced tea in the sun with friends.
a book in a hammock.
an appointment to have my hair done.
a really good yoga session.
coming home to a house that’s already cleaned and dinner on the table.
a day off. make that two: one to get everything done, the other to do nothing.
*amazing* hiking on the Appalachian Trail.
Maybe a few other things, but really, I would settle for any one of those. Not all. Just one.
And if I HAD all?
I would rule it all, have it all.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Blogger Sins and ... more.
I commit -- yet again -- Blog Sin #8741, in which I have so much going on in my life that I am too busy to write. Good stuff -- and by good, I don't necessarily mean that I hit the lotto. (Of course not.) Gooder in the sense of ARE YOU KIDDING ME? WHO DOES THIS/HAPPEN TO? AND WHY AREN'T YOU CAPTURING IT FOR ALL THE BLOGGING WORLD TO SEE? THIS IS GOLD FODDER. (And by gold, I don't mean money. I mean readers.)
I have no excuse. Flog as you will.
And it's not even that I didn't have time because last weekend, I experienced our very own SNOWMAGGEDON and was, literally, snowed in all weekend. (What? Snowed in and no blog? That's, like, Blogger Sin #4 right there.) I couldn't go anywhere. I didn't necessarily do too much. I could have written. But I didn't.
Becuase I haven't felt like myself.
I have been under some pressure at work. I got this great new job about 2 months ago. I really love it -- I love the potential of it. I want this to be super-fantastic-great. I am working hard. Really working hard. I just have ... a lot to do. And I am not going to go into all of it or share details but, as is bound to happen from time to time with any job, I have a lot of one time responsibilities this time of year, I am new to the job and still learning the ropes. Just, a lot of dynamics there. So, I am staying late, working through lunch, working on weekends or at nights at home trying to keep my self organized and on track. I am giving large amounts of my time away just to stay out of the weeds. (And, truth be told, sometimes I just end up there anyway despite all my efforts.) But to be clear, they aren't asking me to do any of this. I just choose to because I would rather give my time and be successful than walk out the door when it's time to go ... and look like an underperformer.
Because I want this to work, I am giving it all my go. If it doesn't work out for some reason, I don't want it to because I didn't make an effort.
So, I am fixated on my new job. It's taking over my life.
It's comprises most of my thoughts during the day.
Even the wedding planning has fallen to the wayside -- which is, again, another post due to the hilarity that has ensued. (Blogger Sin # 763 hereby documented: Weddings Gone Awry With No Update.) John and I had this pact that I would plan the wedding and he would do the house remodel. Lately? I have been asking him to take care of the house, take care of the kids/help me maintain my life because work is so chaotic AND check on wedding things because I just can't manage to make a phone call or something. That's not fair?
Yesterday, it all came to a head.
Yesterday, I realized that I have got to let go of the ropes, let the winds take the sail and see if it will sail or not. Because I can't keep holding on so tightly to a sail in a storm. (Blogger Sin #9632? Check. Using a boat/sail metaphor for turbulent times. Creativity is the fuel of bloggerdom.)
And it wasn't even any one particular thing at work. And, no, you don't get the details. Because it wasn't a work thing that made me realize all this. It was a parenting thing.
Bigger than all the Blogger Sins? I committed a Parenting Sin. Go past Parenting Fail, straight to Parenting Sin. Do not Pass Go, Do Not Collect $200.
Y'all?
Yesterday, after leaving work (again) late, I drove home. I drove straight home. I was just ... driving and thinking. About work, of course. Trying to wrap my brain around all this. And I continued to do so. Continued to fixate on work while driving for, oh, about 40 minutes. Running late to a Scouting event, trying to get there quickly. In the rain. On a congested Friday night commute. I got about 10 minutes from the house and realized
I FORGOT MY KIDS!!!!
I forgot to pick them up. From aftercare. I do it 4-5 times a week. Unless I make special arrangements prior, I am THE ONLY one who CAN pick them up. They go to a school near where I work rather than where we live. They were AT LEAST 25 minutes behind me in the opposite direction. And they closed in 14 minutes.
I don't know what I was thinking? I was trying to hurry home for the Scout event that we were hosting at John's house that I was -- yet again -- late for? Somehow, even though I knew otherwise , I thought he had picked them up. And I just went straight home in an effort to not be as late and ... completely blitzed on picking them up?
When I realized, I bolted straight up in the seat, screamed and gripped the wheel. I tried to turn around as quickly as I could and drove like a bat out of hell. In the rain. Only -- I took the wrong turn ramp and, in my panicked hasted, got on THE COMPLETELY WRONG INTERSTATE (it was a junction) and STILL WAS GOING THE WRONG WAY. I had to go 4 miles down the road to the nearest exit just to try and back track again. With time ticking.
I started to cry.
And that was the last straw.
This post is not about my job, per se. It's not about where I work. This is not about what I need to do to change the situation. I don't want to talk about that. This isn't about the job; it's about me. Or maybe it's about you,too, because you may have been here in your own way. It's about being someone who wants something to work so much that they give in, forsaking everything else -- even if unknowingly. It's about letting something take over your life and losing it in the process -- even if unknowingly. It's about being a mom and realizing that you haven't been much of a mom for a while. It's about balance.
And I think it's okay to talk about those things. I think we need to talk about that. We have a "no talk about work" rule here on the 'net. But this isn't about the job. This is about being a grown up and trying to figure out handling it all, because this happens world-over.
I can't lose myself to this. I can't give that much. And I can't lose my relationship with my kids. And I recognize that no one is asking me to.
It's not worth it. I am working so hard because I am afraid of failing. But, forgetting your kids doesn't exactly get you parenting awards, you know? In fact, it is a failure -- a different failure. Thank god the stakes weren't that high ... this time.
Without meaning to sound cliche (prepare for Blogger Sin #2), being a mom gives me the greatest meaning to my life. Hands down. Being a mom is what makes me understand why I am here on this planet. Not just because of my kids themselves, but, beyond that, I learned more about love and the unconditional and selfless giving and what makes a better world because of it. Yeah, it's about Charlie and Sam. But being their mom taught me Love and has brought me close to God. If I am going to fail at something, I don't want it to be that.
The other? Is a really great job. I hope I can manage to be really successful at it.
I hope that letting go will help.
And if it doesn't?
Then it's a fail I am willing to take, so long as I don't fail in Life.
I have no excuse. Flog as you will.
And it's not even that I didn't have time because last weekend, I experienced our very own SNOWMAGGEDON and was, literally, snowed in all weekend. (What? Snowed in and no blog? That's, like, Blogger Sin #4 right there.) I couldn't go anywhere. I didn't necessarily do too much. I could have written. But I didn't.
Becuase I haven't felt like myself.
I have been under some pressure at work. I got this great new job about 2 months ago. I really love it -- I love the potential of it. I want this to be super-fantastic-great. I am working hard. Really working hard. I just have ... a lot to do. And I am not going to go into all of it or share details but, as is bound to happen from time to time with any job, I have a lot of one time responsibilities this time of year, I am new to the job and still learning the ropes. Just, a lot of dynamics there. So, I am staying late, working through lunch, working on weekends or at nights at home trying to keep my self organized and on track. I am giving large amounts of my time away just to stay out of the weeds. (And, truth be told, sometimes I just end up there anyway despite all my efforts.) But to be clear, they aren't asking me to do any of this. I just choose to because I would rather give my time and be successful than walk out the door when it's time to go ... and look like an underperformer.
Because I want this to work, I am giving it all my go. If it doesn't work out for some reason, I don't want it to because I didn't make an effort.
So, I am fixated on my new job. It's taking over my life.
It's comprises most of my thoughts during the day.
Even the wedding planning has fallen to the wayside -- which is, again, another post due to the hilarity that has ensued. (Blogger Sin # 763 hereby documented: Weddings Gone Awry With No Update.) John and I had this pact that I would plan the wedding and he would do the house remodel. Lately? I have been asking him to take care of the house, take care of the kids/help me maintain my life because work is so chaotic AND check on wedding things because I just can't manage to make a phone call or something. That's not fair?
Yesterday, it all came to a head.
Yesterday, I realized that I have got to let go of the ropes, let the winds take the sail and see if it will sail or not. Because I can't keep holding on so tightly to a sail in a storm. (Blogger Sin #9632? Check. Using a boat/sail metaphor for turbulent times. Creativity is the fuel of bloggerdom.)
And it wasn't even any one particular thing at work. And, no, you don't get the details. Because it wasn't a work thing that made me realize all this. It was a parenting thing.
Bigger than all the Blogger Sins? I committed a Parenting Sin. Go past Parenting Fail, straight to Parenting Sin. Do not Pass Go, Do Not Collect $200.
Y'all?
Yesterday, after leaving work (again) late, I drove home. I drove straight home. I was just ... driving and thinking. About work, of course. Trying to wrap my brain around all this. And I continued to do so. Continued to fixate on work while driving for, oh, about 40 minutes. Running late to a Scouting event, trying to get there quickly. In the rain. On a congested Friday night commute. I got about 10 minutes from the house and realized
I FORGOT MY KIDS!!!!
I forgot to pick them up. From aftercare. I do it 4-5 times a week. Unless I make special arrangements prior, I am THE ONLY one who CAN pick them up. They go to a school near where I work rather than where we live. They were AT LEAST 25 minutes behind me in the opposite direction. And they closed in 14 minutes.
I don't know what I was thinking? I was trying to hurry home for the Scout event that we were hosting at John's house that I was -- yet again -- late for? Somehow, even though I knew otherwise , I thought he had picked them up. And I just went straight home in an effort to not be as late and ... completely blitzed on picking them up?
When I realized, I bolted straight up in the seat, screamed and gripped the wheel. I tried to turn around as quickly as I could and drove like a bat out of hell. In the rain. Only -- I took the wrong turn ramp and, in my panicked hasted, got on THE COMPLETELY WRONG INTERSTATE (it was a junction) and STILL WAS GOING THE WRONG WAY. I had to go 4 miles down the road to the nearest exit just to try and back track again. With time ticking.
I started to cry.
And that was the last straw.
This post is not about my job, per se. It's not about where I work. This is not about what I need to do to change the situation. I don't want to talk about that. This isn't about the job; it's about me. Or maybe it's about you,too, because you may have been here in your own way. It's about being someone who wants something to work so much that they give in, forsaking everything else -- even if unknowingly. It's about letting something take over your life and losing it in the process -- even if unknowingly. It's about being a mom and realizing that you haven't been much of a mom for a while. It's about balance.
And I think it's okay to talk about those things. I think we need to talk about that. We have a "no talk about work" rule here on the 'net. But this isn't about the job. This is about being a grown up and trying to figure out handling it all, because this happens world-over.
I can't lose myself to this. I can't give that much. And I can't lose my relationship with my kids. And I recognize that no one is asking me to.
It's not worth it. I am working so hard because I am afraid of failing. But, forgetting your kids doesn't exactly get you parenting awards, you know? In fact, it is a failure -- a different failure. Thank god the stakes weren't that high ... this time.
Without meaning to sound cliche (prepare for Blogger Sin #2), being a mom gives me the greatest meaning to my life. Hands down. Being a mom is what makes me understand why I am here on this planet. Not just because of my kids themselves, but, beyond that, I learned more about love and the unconditional and selfless giving and what makes a better world because of it. Yeah, it's about Charlie and Sam. But being their mom taught me Love and has brought me close to God. If I am going to fail at something, I don't want it to be that.
The other? Is a really great job. I hope I can manage to be really successful at it.
I hope that letting go will help.
And if it doesn't?
Then it's a fail I am willing to take, so long as I don't fail in Life.
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