June 23, 2014 ~ A New House

I started this post a month ago but hadn't had a chance to finalize my thoughts and edit it.  So here is the final draft. 

"Tonight I found myself lingering on the happy feeling of having my bedroom unpacked and having hung something on a wall (and yes, I do mean one thing on one wall). It took six weeks but who's counting? I'm sitting in my new bedroom thinking that it must be too good to be true. 

In our old house, I didn't have a bedroom to call my own for a year.  It wasn't an ideal house for us from the get go but we were in a time crunch as we had sold our house and needed to be out.  We literally signed the lease a few days before we closed escrow.  Our master bedroom was upstairs and the two extra bedrooms were downstairs, one for my son and the other was MSTBE's office (my daughter hadn't even been conceived when we moved in).  My son was 10 months old and I was still nursing him at night at least a couple of times.  I didn't want to chug up and down the stairs several times per night so I slept in the office.  Three months later, I was pregnant with my daughter and two months after that, my son started sleeping through the night (with a lot of help and training).  I could have moved into the master with MSTBE upstairs but I was finally getting a good night's sleep after over fifteen months of waking countless times and I was dealing with first trimester exhaustion.  And MSTBE was an awful sleeper - he fidgeted and his nose squeaked and I am an incredibly light sleeper.  So I continued to sleep in the office.  And then things took a turn for the worse in our relationship again so I kept sleeping in the office.  Things were up and down but I never had the desire to move up into the master. And when my daughter was born, the office became her bedroom.  And four days after she was born, the bomb d word was dropped and things were worse than they had ever been.  (Yes, MSTBE dropped the d word four days after my daughter was born, on 4/20/13.  I will never forget that date.  It was the worst day of my life, by far.)  So I slept in her room with her for the remaining year of our lease (a good nine months of which were just living out the lease knowing that we were calling it quits).  

It was pretty difficult not having a place to call my own during the worst time in our marriage. When the kids went to sleep at 7 pm, I was stuck spending the rest of the evening in the living room whether I wanted to be or not.  I had no place to hide.  I ended up going to sleep really early for quite a long time, partly because I was avoiding MSTBE and partly because my kids were the worst sleepers as babies.  I needed to go to sleep at 8:30 pm because of all of the upcoming wake ups otherwise I wouldn't be able to function the next day.

So when I say that it seems too good to be true, I really mean it.  I have this big mater bedroom with a small sitting area, a huge walk in closet all to myself (I have so much space that I hang my scarves, my bras, my purses, and all of my skinny clothes as motivation), and a bathroom and vanity area that isn't filled with kid's toys.  I've decorated it with my favorite water color paintings from my first trip to Italy and an old painting that I had hanging in my condo long before I met MSTBE.  I bought some pretty pillows for my bed and have a color scheme that I love with a beautiful deep turquoise lamp, among other things.  I'm incredibly happy with the house that we're in and plan on staying here five years while I save to buy a house. 

As I'm feeling all of these great feelings, I think, "What's going to happen in this house?" There are so many possibilities. Will I fall in love in this house? I hesitate to even think that let alone type it. What will happen with my babies, the loves of my lives, in this house? What does this house have in store for me as a woman and for us as a family? It's such an exhilarating and happy question to ask and I'm so excited to learn the answers, day by day."

I'm feeling even more content tonight as I've finished decorating my room, I unpacked the last three lingering boxes, and I have hung pictures in my baby girl's room.  I have a few finishing touches left to do in the kiddos' rooms and pictures to hang in the hallway but that's about it. This house is beginning to feel more and more like a home.

July 23, 2014 ~ Obvious Statement: I Am Much Nicer to People Who Are Nice to Me

You're thinking, "Duh! Why bother with a post about it?"

I'm just thinking out loud here. As I was driving home from Trader Joe's, thinking about how things have been between MSTBE and myself for the past year or so, I realized that he really hasn't figured me out even though we've know each other for over eight years.

First, let me give you some background. When we initially met with the lawyer that is mediating our divorce, MSTBE had a conniption when he found out he was going to have to pay support. "I thought that since she gets to spend more time with them, I wouldn't have to pay anything."

I'll pause here so that you have time to stop laughing or to give you a moment to day, "Are you f-ing kidding?!?!"

Anyway, I've never seen him behave as ugly as he did for the week or so following" this meeting. It was so awful that I don't even want to remember the details so that I can write about them. And then, a few months later, when we moved into separate houses (finally), money came up again and we were back in the midst of an awful week.

What I realized this morning is that, had he been nice and talked through things rationally with me, I would have compromised more. Maybe I would've agreed to less support than I'm legally obligated to. Maybe I would've decided to pay for all of the kids' diapers until they were actually staying at his house (even though the law clearly states that we are each to have our own supplies). Maybe those things would've been stupid to do, maybe not.

I am the type of person who would return money to the rightful owner if I found it and knew or was able to figure out who lost it. I feel guilty if I walkout of the grocery store with water under my shopping cart that the checker never scanned. In fact, I always try to remember to point it out. I don't want a free ride in any sense.

As I'm writing this, it still astonishes me that MSTBE hasn't figured out how to "play me" or to make things work a little more in his favor. I'm also astonished by the fact that I still didn't know h as well as I had thought after five years, when we had our first baby together.

Thanks for listening to my thinking out loud post. It was on my mind and I wanted to get it out.

July 17, 2014 ~ My Worth Is Not Measured by How Much I Can Get Done in a Day

Why does this seem like such a revelation to me?  Seriously.  I came to this conclusion last week when I realized that I feel better about myself on days that my kids are at daycare and I can accomplish a lot compared to days that I spend with my children making precious memories.  This was absolutely shocking to me even though it's really been true in different ways throughout my life.  (I've not always been making memories with my children, as my oldest is only 3, but making memories with friends, family, etc.)

You see, I'm the type of person that makes lists and I feel incredibly validated when I check something off of my list.  When I don't get anything productive done, I feel worthless.  I don't know how this became my mindset but it has been for as long as I can remember.  Along with this go, go, go frame of mind comes being impatient with my children, dragging my self esteem down if I don't get enough done, and being less accepting of other peoples' faults.  I think I'll have to write about my issue with personal accountability and other peoples' faults another time because this post will be too long if I try to cram it in here.

Here's the cool thing: as soon as I realized this consciously (because I've known it subconsciously forever, I think), I stopped.  I'm not joking.  Occasionally, when I get that feeling creeping up, the one that's telling me, "You're not doing anything and so you are worthless," I have to remind myself that it's better to be spending quality time with my kids or even taking some time to unwind for myself.

Truly, my worth is not measured by how much I can get done in a day.  I am a better person (more worthful, if I feel so inclined to make up a new word), more patient with my children and more accepting of others' faults, when I take time for myself.  So why this drive to go, go, go and get everything possible done in as little time as possible?

Lately I've been telling myself that it's alright to not have every minute of the day filled with something productive.  It feels great and in some weird way, it's also motivating.  I guess I feel like I want to show my expectations up or something.  I think that I've turned into one of those self-help book reading people.  I haven't actually purchased a self help book but I read so much on the internet: how to make time for yourself, finding ways to parent positively, different ways to discipline my children without yelling, information about our food sources...  The list goes on and on and on.  And, I'm a little bit embarrassed to admit this, but I found three quotes all in one day that were really meaningful to me (one of them being the concept above, a quote from myself) so I typed them in a note on my iPhone, took a screen shot of it, and it is now my lock screen and home screen background.  Yup, my phone has motivational quotes as its background.

I guess the moral of this post (that went off on a bit of a tangent at the end and feels like it is filled with terrible grammar and sentence structure) is that we can have something going on in our heads for a very long time and not even realize that it's there.  And once we do realize it's there, it's such a relief and so easy to overcome.  I hope that this gets you thinking about the things that are going on in your head, particularly the ways that you talk negatively to yourself without realizing it, and that it helps you to start thinking more positively.  I know that I'm looking forward to finding more.

July 11, 2014 ~ I Struggle With Myself Every. Single. Day.

"Was I too harsh with my kids?  I should have handled that situation with them more calmly.  They are going to learn such negative behavior from me."  "How much of the divorce was my fault?  I was overly critical and impatient for a very long time."  "Does so-and-so think that I handled that situation with my kids badly?"  The whopper:  "Will I be the same with any other man who enters my life?  Will I always be critical no matter who he is?  And will this critical attitude spill over into my relationship with my kids?"

Is this kind of self-doubt normal?  And if so, why are we, as women, allowing ourselves to have such negative conversations in our heads?  And why do I care what other people think?

I think that I am generally viewed as a pretty confident person.  I am confident that I am an exceptional teacher.  I am confident that I know math very well.  I am confident in my cooking ability.  There are a lot of things that I am confident about.  But there are just as many things (if not more) that I am incredibly insecure about.  The two biggest things are how I'm raising my kids and my ability to have a successful relationship in the future.  Check that: there are a lot of things that I am confident about in regard to how I'm raising my kids.  I'm insecure about the ways that I discipline them.  I read so much about how to parent positively and raise children without yelling.  But I'm not great at it yet and I hear the tone that I take with them echoed in my son's voice sometimes.  It breaks my heart.  My kids are the most important thing in the world to me yet I can't find the patience to always treat them that way.

The second, less important point makes me think that I will be lacking that partner in crime that I wrote about the other day for a very long time.  I know the mistakes that I made in my marriage; I am very well aware of them.  (I've been through enough counseling to last a lifetime.)  The thing is, I am who I am.  I don't think that I can change.  I tried and tried so incredibly hard to stop being critical of MSTBE but I never could.  In fact, I'm still trying because I don't want my kids to see me interacting with him in such a negative way.  I wonder if I would be so critical with a person who thinks more like me.  Would I criticize a man that I respect more, who works really hard for his family and doesn't take the easy way out of situations?  Would I be able to make a relationship work with someone who could put me in my place when it is needed or would that make things even worse?

I've learned that in so many ways, expectations are problem causers.  I have incredibly high expectations of the people around me and when they don't meet those expectations, I'm let down.  (If you couldn't tell already, I also have incredibly high expectations of myself and I kick myself - very hard - when I don't meet them.)

I have told many people since making the decision to divorce that I just don't think my personality is right for marriage.  I don't want that to be true but I sincerely believe that it is.  I hope that I will "grow up" before I become old and grey by myself but I can't imagine how that's possibly going to happen.

Moral of the story:  I need to stop being so tough on myself, on the people around me, and especially on my kids, (even though I like to think that I'm only tough on them occasionally).  

July 10, 2014 ~ I Don't Have a Partner In Crime

I got choked up while driving home from Target yesterday.  It wasn't because I realized that I didn't know where my credit card was and couldn't remember the last time I had used it.  Nor was it because I spent altogether too much money.  It was because I don't have a partner in crime.

One of two things is probably going through your mind right now.  You're either wondering what in the heck I'm talking about or you know exactly what I'm talking about.

I bought a really cute outfit for my daughter (yes, I almost always get sucked into buying more than I went for).  I don't know exactly what made me think of this as I was driving but I really wanted to have someone at home to show it to.  Now, don't get me wrong, I show these kind of things to my Mom all of the time.  But somehow it's just not the same.  (No offense Mom.)  And I got choked up as I thought about all of the things that I wish for.

If I had a partner in crime, I'd not only have someone to go home to and share the excitement of the new outfit.  I'd have someone to support me, to pick up the slack when I've had a particularly challenging day.  Or just when I need a break.  I'd have someone to laugh with.  More importantly, I'd have someone to cry with.  I'd have someone to report the mundane details of my day to and I'd have someone to talk to about all of the important decisions that need to be made when you have kids.  I'd have someone to help me make those decisions.

As I was thinking about all of these things, I remembered that I never really had those even when I was married.  Initially, MSTBE's carefree attitude was one of the major things that attracted me to him.  Eventually I figured out that it wasn't so much a carefree attitude but a lack of caring in general.  About everything.  He had shut down his ability to care a long time ago and it took me far too long to realize it.  I didn't have support in my marriage.  I didn't have someone to turn to when I needed a listening ear or someone to get excited about something with.

In fact, there are two things that I will never forgive MSTBE for.  The first is the day that I found out that I was pregnant with my older child (my son) and the second is the day that I gave birth to my daughter.

I had put a lot of pressure on myself when we were initially trying to get pregnant.  I am a teacher and wanted to time the pregnancy just right so that I could get six weeks of maternity leave leading directly into the summer.  I also was incredibly stressed out about the concept that I could possibly be incapable of getting pregnant.  (I have grown a lot since then and don't put quite so much pressure on myself about things.)  When I took a pregnancy test on the morning that I found out that I was pregnant, I woke MSTBE up to tell him that it came out positive.  Excitement was not what I got from him.  Basically he said that I wasn't pregnant until a doctor told me I was pregnant and he went back to sleep.  I was heartbroken but excited at the same time because I knew that I was pregnant; I didn't need a doctor to tell me.

The second event, my daughter's birth, was the most amazing experience of my life.  Having my son was wonderful and one of the best days of my life but his birth was difficult and came with complications.  I had wanted to have a natural birth but due to these complications, I just couldn't.  But I was able to do a completely natural, drug free birth when I had my daughter and it was literally awe inspiring.  The unfortunate part is that MSTBE ruined the day and a half after her birth.  She was born at 4:56 am so my first meal of the day was breakfast.  I offered MSTBE some of my coffee and when he refused, I suggested that he go down to the cafeteria to get some.  I knew that he had an addiction to coffee and that it probably wouldn't be good if he didn't have any, particularly after being awake all night.  It wasn't good.  He got an incredibly terrible migraine, which turned into him taking a ridiculous quantity of ibuprofen (which I had recently found out was a fairly regular occurrence) on an empty stomach.  Guess what?  He got sick.  So for the day and a half after my daughter's birth, everybody that came into the room asked about him instead of focusing on me, my recovery, and how amazing it was that I had just had a natural birth.

I had no support in my marriage, even on the most important days.  I had nobody to share in my excitement about things.  I've been wanting those things so badly for so long.  I'm a really strong, independent person. I've been told how strong I am for as long as I can remember.  But here's the thing.  I'm tired of being strong.  I want to have somebody in my life to be strong for me.  I don't want to be the person who can do it all on my own.  I don't know if anybody else can understand this but I AM SO TIRED OF BEING STRONG!

July 6, 2014 ~ This Single Mom Gig is Tough!

I have ridiculously high standards for myself in every way: in my achievements at work, in the way that I treat others, in the food that I bring into our house, in staying on top of housework (I kick myself all too often on this one lately), and particularly in how I raise my kids. Perfection, whatever that means, is what I strive for. I really get upset with myself when I lose my temper; I beat myself up when I allow myself to forget that they're kids who are learning and are uncontrollable. (Control is a pretty major issue of mine but we can delve more deeply into that another time.)

I know that when I start doing things that I really get upset with myself about, I need a break. "Everyone needs a break," you're thinking. I agree. That's one of the big issues that caused my marriage to crumble. I wasn't offered any breaks and I didn't insist on them. I have the "I Can Do It All Myself" personality. I've learned in the past three years since having a kid (and then two!) that I can't. But somehow, subconsciously, I still hold myself to that standard.

But when I find myself losing patience more often than usual, I am reminded that I am not, in fact, Superwoman. I can do a lot. I've proven that time and time again, whether it be caring for a newborn with no experience and very little help, figuring out how to fix things or put complicated toys together completely on my own (or taking over a toy project from MSTBE - I'll have to write about that one sometime), or simply just keeping my shit together as much as possible on a day to day basis with two kids. However the times that I find myself where I'm at right now, I remember that I need to take care of myself occasionally. I need "Me Time" to decompress but more importantly, with my personality, I need time to get ahead of my shit, not just stay on top of it. Because, you see, when I have laundry that hasn't been put away for a few days or when I leave dishes in the sink until the morning, it really bothers me.

I think the bigger issue is overcoming this desire for perfection. But I do also need the "Me Time." My kids deserve the best Mom that they can get and they won't have that until I learn a little bit more balance.

July 5, 2015 ~ Cheese Sandwich: That Doesn't Feel Good

I try to feed myself and my kids as many whole foods as possible.  Minimally processed is also a goal.  I don't usually have American cheese singles in my refrigerator.

"What is she talking about?!?!"

I promise, there's a point.

A couple of weeks ago a wrote about a BBQ that we had here with MSTBE and his best friend, who was in town for a long weekend.  MSTBE brought some food over and left some American cheese singles.  They've been sitting on my shelf, untouched for two weeks.  I don't know why I haven't thrown them away but tonight I wish that I had.

When MSTBE and I were getting serious, I was ridiculously into the movie "Love & Sex."  There's a conversation in the movie between the two main characters when they are courting about whether it's possible to love the same person for the rest of your life.  John Favreau's character says that it's probably human nature to stop saying "I Love You," it becomes like saying, "cheese sandwich."  It ends up being the way that the couple says they love each other and, spoiler alert, after they break up and get back together, it comes back in the cutest way.  Here's the 45 second snip of the movie.  And now that I've watched that again, I think I'm going to obsess over the movie and watch it over and over again every time that I have the opportunity.  If you haven't seen it, I highly recommend it.  I'm not much of an Indie movie lover but this one is an exception.

Ok, I definitely went off on a bit of a tangent there.  Back to the point.  I mentioned this part of the movie to MSTBE and possibly even had him watch it way back when we were dating.  The cheese sandwich thing became a small part of our "I Love You's" but it wasn't a daily thing by any means.  In fact, when we got married it had gone by the wayside.  But on our wedding day when I walked into the bride's changing room to get ready, there waiting for me was a tray of cheese sandwiches.  When I saw them, I cried tears of happiness.

How in the world did I get here?  How did this happen?  How does a couple go from such a sweet, loving, thoughtful gesture to the place that we're at now?  It's unfathomable.  As I sit here with tears rolling down my cheeks, months after having accepted that this is the best thing for everybody and truly believing it, I'm still shocked.  I hadn't thought about that moment in a very long time and it doesn't feel good to be reminded of it.

July 4, 2014 ~ MSTBE Has the Life

He really does. He gets to see his kids most afternoons/evenings before bed but doesn't have to deal with the meltdowns and poopy diapers. He gets to drop my son off on the Fourth of July after a few hours with him at a bounce house party and leaves to go see fireworks and drink with his friends afterward.

But you know what? I consider myself the lucky one. I get to rock with my one year old daughter every night as she drinks her bottle and goes to sleep. I get to kiss my three year old son his lasts kiss goodnight and say "Love you bye" every night. And I get to walk down the street with my son to see his first fireworks show.

My life is the furthest thing from glamorous. My life can be boring and tedious at times. And this is all my own creation. I'm the one who came up with this schedule and wanted to let the kids adjust to the idea of having two homes. I took this responsibility on and knew it would be difficult.

But I will never regret this time with my kids. There will be days in the future plenty of them, during which I have more "Me Time" than I know what to do with. When the kiddos are a bit older, they'll be spending up to three nights a week at MSTBE's house. So yes, I'm burned out, and yes, I make bad decisions as a Mom because of that. I'm not perfect. But I will forever cherish these "extra" moments that I get with my babes!