We Can Do Hard Things

Now that I seem to be recooped enough to be back on a regular schedule, I've been catching up on some of the blogs I like to follow.

One of those blogs is called Momastery by Glennon, a writer and "mother of three and wife to one" (as she describes herself). It is a fabulous blog that is open, honest and sincere. Her writing has a softness to it, and it oozes love. Love for her family, her friends, her readers, people she doesn't even know and even life. Its those qualities that draw me to it. While reading one of her posts that was written a few days ago, I had an "Ah Ha! Moment" (as Oprah liked to call them).

The post titled, Dear Chase (click hear to read it in its entirety), is a letter to her son as he starts the third grade.  In the letter she is trying to teach him about compassion. God's compassion and how we can and should show it to others.

I will quote the "Ah Ha!" part here:

"Compassion might lead you to tell a teaser to stop it and then ask the teased kid to play. You might invite a left-out kid to sit next to you at lunch. You might choose a kid for your team first who usually gets chosen last. These things will be hard to do, but you can do hard things."

These things will be hard to do, but you can do hard things.  Wow! It's like a light bulb went off in my head, and not necessarily just about compassion, but about everything.  If something is Right, then it may be hard, but we still have the strength to do the right thing. We Can Do Hard. Wow, what a revelation for me! God has given us this gift. This ability. And we all should use it everyday!

I've noticed that she (Glennon) uses this phrase alot in some of her posts and even has a sign hanging up in her house with the phrase on it. It's like a mantra.  And a dang good one, if I may say so. 

This one sentence puts into words an explanation to the group of comments/questions that irks me to no end. (partially because I haven't been able to think of an answer that doesn't personally degrade the commentor)  That question is the often off-hand remark  from others in regard to the relationship that I maintain with my ex, his wife and thier other two children.  "Your a d***m good woman" or "Your a better woman than I am, because I couldn't do it." or "How on earth do you do that?"

What I've always WANTED to say but have refrained from is, "Really? You COULDN'T do it? Or is it more like you WOULDN'T do it? Come on, get over yourself. If you loved your child/children enough you could. It's only matter of putting your children first and above your own selfish desire to be a B****! So don't look down your nose like I"M the one in the wrong, because you are! (snap, snap)"

Unfortunately, that response would be a very quick way to alienate people. People who probably only mean to give me a pat on the back to acknowledge my choice, and not the smack on the nose that I take it to be.

But Now! ........... BUT NOW!! I have a better answer.  One that I CAN say!............

"Often times the things that are RIGHT are hard to do. But, with God, I Can Do Hard Things." 

And you know what?  I feel great about that answer. It sums it up pretty well.  Don't you think?

I also find that motto to be very inspiring for future decisions. 

Maybe I need a sign in my house, too.

:-)

I'm a Mother, I worry. It's what I do.

I know I worry too much.

I know that I obsess over things that needn't be obsessed over. 

I know this AND I admit it. It's part of my G.A.D. ..............

..................but please, Please, PLEASE don't tell me that I'm being silly!

These are real fears.  Real fears for Real things. 

It's not like I'm worried about the monsters under my bed or anything.

Wait let me back up to this morning and to the incident that has initiated this little rant.

I awoke about thirty minutes early this morning, because I wanted to spend a few extra minutes with Ty. I was supposed to drop him off at his Daddy & Lilly's on my way to work, then they would all be heading to Gatlinburg for a few days of vacation.

So I hurried up, showered, dressed and what have ya.  After pulling that off in record time, I then commenced to getting Ty up and ready.  As I was gooping up his Mohawk, I starting talking to him about how important it was that he get back home to me safely.  I stressed that he had to be extra careful while traveling.  To make sure that he doesn't run ahead of Daddy and Lilly or get distracted  by something and not keep up with them.  I reminded him that it was super important not to talk to strangers and that all bad guys don't necessarily look like Two-Face from Batman.

As I was reciting all of this to him, someone (who's first name is My and last name is Mother) walked by and told me to quit being silly. She said that I was only "projecting my anxiety".

WTF!!!

So have I only IMAGINED seeing those missing kids on milk cartons?  Are Amber alerts only an urban legend?

I don't think so!

I understand that my Mom (oops, I mean 'Someone') was only trying to keep me from scaring Ty and possibly even trying to make me feel better.  The problem is, that she has no idea what it feels like to have your baby away from you. To feel helpless and afraid of a situation that is out of your control.

Fortunately for her (and my sister and myself), she and my Dad stayed married. Therefore, there were never any separate vacations.  She never had to send her baby off without her. I'm even sure I was in like the 5th or 6th grade before I even went to the mall with out her. 

Let me specify here that I'm not concerned that his Dad or Lilly won't take good care of him.  I KNOW they will.  They love him, care for him and worry about him the same as I do. I'm not worried about lack of care here.  I'm worried that even in the best of circumstances things can go wrong. 

I'm not being silly. Just ask any parent of a missing or abducted child.

I also understand "someone's" ill attempt to ease my mind. I do understand that.  I understand that from her perspective it is "silly" to worry over what you cannot change. 

I wish I didn't worry so much. I wish I could just enjoy the next couple of days instead of spending it feeling like my guts are caught in a wringer.  I really, really do.

But it's who I am, and what I do.

As a Mother and as Me.

P.S.  ~ I know your thinking, "Wow! She just moved in over the weekend and she's already upset at her Mom."  But that's not exactly true.  I am venting, yes, but I'm not really upset with her.  I understand that she is my Mother, and that "roles" die hard.  It's hard for her to see me doing something that she herself doesn't necessarily agree with and NOT "correct" me for it.  I understand that.  I also understand that with a little admonishment, corporal punishment and correcting hard work,determination and patience this too will change.

Full Circle

Creed is definitely not a new band, and even their most recent album is at least a year old. 

However, this song is speaking to me at this time. Maybe its because I feel like I am coming full circle in my own life. I've reached the point where I'm ready to take those final steps in healing, forgiving and moving on. 

I don't believe it's about closure. I feel as though its leaving behind the old as you move forward to start another journey.

Well, that's what my crackhead thoughts are telling me today, anyway.

Who knows, tomorrow, they may tell me that I should go do donuts in my neighbors yard.

J/K~ I'm not that random yet.

Family Ties

This week one of my favorite aunts is visiting. She was married to my Mom's brother, but they have been divorced for approx. 17 years.  Almost 1/2 of my life.

So is she really still my aunt?

OF COURSE SHE IS!!!

I'd probably pick her over my uncle anyday!! Well not really, I'd just have to play Switzerland and remain neutral. He is my uncle and I do love him, I just don't know him as well as I do her.  He is one of those uber geniuses. As a bio-medical engineer he invented some stuff. Stuff thats way over my head or I'd tell you about it.  And to give props where they are due, it was his job and genius-ness that allowed her to be able to load the kids up and SPEND the entire summer here.

Anyway, it also means that he worked alot.  That kind of schedule is not very condusive for bonding with your niece, obviously.

But SHE did.

They always lived in Massachusetts, but every summer when school was out, she would load up her kids and come to the family farm here in KY. 

I spent every summer that I can remember, until thier divorce (which was also about the time I graduated H.S.), on that farm with her and her kids.  She took us water-skiing, let us sleep outside on an old hay trailer, have a camp fire and roast marshmallows nearly every night, she took us to horse shows and fed us funnel cakes. 

It is because of her that I developed a love for Early American History.  During the weeks that we would visit them, she would relentlessly drag us all over New England. (Salem was always my favorite. I STILL have to go there every time I visit.)  She exuberantly took us to experience as many places, and things as we could squeeze into our 7-10 day trips. I've seen Cheers (the real one), had my picture taken in the Pillory, saw Plymouth Rock, toured the Mayflower replica, took part in a Tea Party reinactment (no not this new polictical Tea Party, I mean tea being thrown over into the bay) and walked (yes walked) Paul Revere's Ride.

When her Mother was first diagnosed with Alzheimers; her daughter, my sister and myself were often put on what we lovingly referred to as "Gramsie Duty". We would stay with her, just to kind of check behind her. We made sure she remembered to turn things off and other small safety precautions.

It wasn't just the fun stuff, she wouldn't hesitate to discipline us either. She would put us in line just as fast as she would one of her own. The same as my parents would hers. (Although, we were such unbelievably well-behaved children that that wasn't much of an issue.)

She knows my birthday and still sends me a card every year.  Im 35, AND SHE STILL SENDS ME A CARD!! That takes commitment. I mean, I barely remember to get my mom and sister a card for thier birthdays.

I will never forget, when my ex and I first separated she sent me some flowers with a simple note. She had them delivered to my work. It meant so much because she KNEW, first hand, my hurt.

All of these things are only the tip of the iceberg of course.  They are just the ones that Floated to the top while I was writing. She was an immensely huge part of my childhood and adolesence.

I pray, that should God bless me with a niece or nephew, that I can follow in her footsteps as an aunt.  I would be proud to be that person. There are so many things that I want to be when I grow up (wink, wink). Yet, this goal, is very near the top of my bucket list. It's right under SuperMom and directly above independently wealthy.


Divorce Sucks. It is so often a loss to everyone involved.

I am glad I didn't lose this time. Not really. Cuz.....

She IS my family. She is (and always will be) my Aunt Sue Ann.

And I love her.

TGIF?? Well Yes and No.



You see this doodle? I did this while on the phone
with my sister this evening. I don't think it takes
a therapist to see through this one.



I feel like a sinking ship.





It is Friday evening and I should be happy.  And I am, I guess. 

O.K. so I'm not, but it is because I came home to an empty house. I walked through the door and the silence quickly began to smother me. This silence is more than just quietness, and it is certainly not peaceful. Most of us enjoy a tranquil home, especially when the day is over and we are all snuggled contently into bed.  This silence is an absence of noise, the background noise that is created by life's energy. It is emptiness.

In an effort to fill the void, I went outside to tackle some yard work. A little activity to get my heart pumping and start those fee-good endorphins flowing would be good for me. Although only temporarily, my efforts did work. During those couple of hours, I was too busy to notice I was alone. Unfortunately, the house was still as quiet and empty when I came back in at dusk. It was dark too, because I forgot to turn any lights on earlier.

You would think that I would be used to it by now. Three nights a week for five years. Yet, it seems to be getting worse. As horrible as this sounds, atleast when he was little I appreciated (needed?) the hands free nights to go to the grocery store, do laundry, mow the yard., etc., etc. Now that he is older, there is nothing that I can't do while he is here. It's not difficult to run in the store for a couple of things, or to quickly mow the grass while he is playing a game or watching a movie. It's hard to be so "appreciative" of the time, when I don't really need it.

When I come home on nights like this, it takes all the strength I can gather to keep from going straight to bed and crying myself to sleep. Its all I feel like doing because the vacantness I feel inside hurts too much to bear.

So it's Friday night and all I want is my baby. I want to hold him and talk to him. I want to watch his uber expressive face as he tells me about the snake he "helped" kill today. I want to watch him get excited when he completes a new level on whatever game he is playing on the wii. I want him to curl up in my lap while I read the next chapter of Harry Potter to him. I want to be the one that gives him his medicine at night, and I want to be the one who he wakes up if he has a bad dream.  I need to know he is home and he is safe.

I worry so much how all of this effects him. It would ease my mind to know that he knew and understood that the reason he is not here with me is NOT because I don't want him to be, but because his Dad loves him too.  I love him so much that I would spend every minute with him if it were possible. Yet, it is because I love him that it is important to me for him spend so much time with his Dad. And his brothers. I believe family is important.

I have great friends and a healthy, active social life. I'm not a recluse and I'm not trying to live vicariously through my child. I'm just a mother who loves her son. He is the only one I'll ever have and I'm just trying my best not to muck it up.

Except I do feel that way. I'm not sure what is going on with me. Whatever the cause, whether it is some lingering residue of my seasonal affective disorder, lack of physical activity, too much stress, poor diet or hormonal, I've got to get it under control. (Truthfully, I'd say it's a combination of all.) I can't keep riding this emotional roller coaster.

The Big One

"Why are you and Daddy not married anymore?"

I have known this was coming since the day my ex left. I tried to prepare myself emotionally, as well as to have answers readily available that don't point blame or involve name calling. I've had 5 years to prepare for this day, so I should have aced it.

Wrong. Oh, So Wrong. I was not prepared for it to come out of the blue like it did, and I was not at all expecting him to already have more information than I anticipated. I mean how much worse of answer could I have given than, "Well unfortunately Ty, sometimes things happen in marriages that cause people to get a divorce."  Seriously, what kind of answer is that?  That explains things about as well as, "Because I said so."
Then, out of left field,  the kid low balls me with, "Is it because my Daddy broke off with you?"

I was shocked. First of all, who has he been talking to, and who put those words in his head? Secondly, I mean, what do you say? Yes, and then your pointing the finger of blame. Or No, and then your a liar. I made a quick decision (not usually a good idea for me) and went with the truth. Obviously, its not the whole story, but it's enough for a 5year old. No matter how bad I don't want to color Ty's thinking about the situation, I sure don't ever want to lie.

I want Ty to know that no matter what question he asks me, that I will always answer in truth. Always. No matter how difficult the question or the answer. (Hopefully, for him, he doesn't ask about Santa too soon.)

What I Maybe Did Right.
I accept the fact that I messed up, but I hope I did do some things that were right. When I realized that this was a conversation that needed my full attention, I pulled the car over into a parking lot, unbuckled Ty's seat belt and pulled him onto my lap.

 As soon as he was in my arms, I could feel him shaking.  He wasn't crying, he was shaking from anger. His little hands were curled up into fists, and every muscle in his body was tight. I gave him a big hug, kissed him on his forehead and asked him to talk to me about what he was thinking and feeling. He said he didn't want to talk about it anymore, but I told him that it was OK, that he could talk to me no matter what.

Finally, after I promised not to tell 'anyone', he told me that                                                                  (sorry, I promised, and I'm pretty sure that posting it on here would constitute a Mega violation). 

I handled it the best that I could and so this is what I told him.  "No matter who we are, how much money we have, how many friends we have or how perfect our lives appear to be there are going to be things that happen to us that are either unfair, that hurt us and/or things that make us angry.  We may not understand why these things happen and we do not have to like them, but we do have to accept them."  I told him that "when things in my life happen that hurt me or make me unhappy, I try to think of at least one good thing that happened because of it."

"What could be good about this?" he asked.

"Well, for me it is that I have been able to make my everything all about you. I haven't had to share my time or attention with anyone other than you. If we want to eat nothing but popcorn for supper, it doesn't matter, because the only people we have to make happy is us." I replied.

"You know what else is great? You have two totally awesome little brothers that you would never have had, if your Dad and I stayed together."

"I wouldn't? " Ty asked surprised.

"Nope, and I definitely think that's pretty special."

"Yeah, I guess your right Mom. I love my brothers."

"And everybody loves you. You always remember that."

"Yep, everybody loves Ty."

Of course, this all went down with me crying like a babbling baby. About two words into it I lost my control.  It's not my pain that causes the tears, it was seeing my baby hurting. I don't want him to hurt. I don't want him to hold onto anger over who did what to who.  The situation is what it is. I want him to be happy, and he can't be happy if he's angry.

I know this is only the tip of the iceberg. I'm sure it's the first of many conversations and explanations. I dread it. I just pray God will help me find the words to help him understand and to work through it.