Don't make me say Goodnight to Goodnights...

A while ago I was fighting the good night ritual.  It had become a not so pleasant one, and I spent so much time wishing it would pass.  Lots of anxieties, worries about surviving through the night.  Questions that I could not answer.  What was once such a sweet innocent time of snuggling and kisses and sometimes impatience had become a time of stress, sadness and loss for knowing what to do. 

Then, it happened, the anxiety slowly was cured.  FANTASTIC you say!  Yes it was.  But then it became too cool to say good night.  Too cool for snuggles.  I am a man now and don't need to be tucked in.  What!?!?  How did I know that despite the stress and true worry those nights had, I would eventually miss not having it at all.

Which brings me to last night, it was rough.  After a sleep-over and learning that sleep probably did not happen we suffered through the crankiness and tude-ness of it's aftereffects; eventually we were able to have a discussion and kissed and made up.  The rest of the night was one I wish I could hold onto forever.  Pleasant conversation.  Snuggles on the couch while watching TV and even a 'mom... can you come up and say good night.  that show freaked me out a bit'.  Me: (WHAT? YES!, wait play it cool mom!!)  umm I mean sure.  if that is what you want. 

Thinking in my head of course, trying hard not to show I was really dancing a jig.  My 'man' who was too cool and too grown up was spooked.  And who did he want?  That's right, ME! Momma! MEEEE! I can't even tell you how that felt. 

I climbed to the top of the stairs and walked in.  There he was blankets up to his eyebrows and he looked barely over them and welcomed me into bed.  He did not want to talk, he just wanted me there.  I sucked every second of it in.  Breathing in his hair that doesn't smell so baby fresh anymore but smelled just delightful in his own way.  Kissing his forehead and cheek, his skin still soft, not yet giving into adolescence and stubble (THANK GOODNESS!).  Saying as I used to say every night "I love you, remember you are AMAZING'.  I got the usual tired moan-groan knowing he was just about in that falling asleep mode, he did share a 'love you tooooo' whisper. 

I laid there not wanting to leave but knowing the bed was not big enough for the two of us.  I wondered how many more nights like this I may get.  I wanted to bottle it up and then began to resent myself for not embracing the past nights more.   How stupid of me!!! But I quickly shoved that voice out of my head, knowing it is something that has to happen, and so often is felt by hurried parents.  I didn't need to beat myself over it.  I needed to be thankful for even being able to have those nights at all.  I had been a single parent, I had worked two jobs - I knew what it was like to not even have the time to savor a good night.  So I told that voice to bugger off. 

I stayed a bit longer just smelling and listening to his breath and having my cheek pressed to his.  I said I love you one more time and whispered 'remember you're amazing' again.  Just because.  I walked out and looked back and realized how truly blessed I am.  Despite my rough patch now.  I know I am.  But I still don't want to say goodnight to 'goodnights'. 

Wonder Woman.... where are you?

Often I have felt that it really takes a superhero to manage motherhood. How fitting that Halloween is tomorrow. It also makes me (dare I say) appreciate what my parents went through raising me. How is can we though be all to all and still be sane, hold a job, etc…

If there was ever a need to have a ‘bat light’ to shine out there and have my super hero come down out of the sky, save the day and make me feel wonderful as they run off into the night it really would be now. I do have a super-hero in my husband, but it is not the same. As wonderful and amazing as he makes me feel, he is no match for the guilt and weight I put on my own shoulders. He tries, but it is like kryptonite that can’t just be picked up, flown off to the middle of the desert and buried. Instead it just sits and weighs heavier and heavier until I crash.

Today however, I did something I rarely do. I gave myself a break. I was missing my (step)son’s game this morning due to a conflict in getting my son to and from seeing his father. At first I was so annoyed that this was impacting me seeing a game but then found out the game was cancelled. So I was very thankful I was not in the car with my super mad husband driving 3 hours for nothing. It then turned into a blessing in disguise. While he was (I am sure) cursing whomever it was responsible for not sharing fields were closed due to weather, I was home chipping away at a large pile of papers that needed dealing with.

On the way to see my son’s father, my son revealed frustrations in always going to his brothers games and sitting in the cold, doing nothing. It broke my heart as we moved and he is having to find new friends yet most of our weekends are in a car going from one sport to the next. I made the decision to stay back from the second game of the day and have my son play with a neighborhood friend while I made the cookies I owe for tomorrow’s Halloween party, continued chipping away at that pile of papers, organize bills etc… It was …. nice.

I hate to say that out loud because as I sit and think about it, I am rather bummed not to be watching our other boy play. However, if I push that guilt aside, today was actually really nice. I can’t tell you the last Sunday I have had to actually get stuff done, to cook real food – one where I actually need an apron and mixer, where I am sitting down and working on something instead of rushing around and watching the clock for when we have to run out the door.

I do truly wish I could be there and do it all. when our kids grow up – I want them to know or remember wow she was there all the time; but with the current demands of our kids and having multiple children as well as work, it feels virtually impossible to be there ALL of the time. I wish I did not have to work. But I do. I am also hoping as we get to know more people who our youngest will be able to go his own way more or have a friend to bring with him instead of resenting going to his brothers games. It is hard on him as well. But for all 3 of our children, whatever it is I do hope that when they do look back they will at least acknowledge how much I tried to be there for everything. And for every time I wasn’t, there was a reason…Even if that reason was to help their brother make friends and attempt to help myself from going insane.

Girls Night Out

There’s something about seeing your girlfriends that I think helps the soul. It could also be the bottles of wine we have been known to finish off while chatting.

Lately, I have felt pretty lost. Almost as though I don’t even know myself anymore. It is a strange feeling and in the midst of keeping up with daily life’s chores,kids homework and their dramas, taking care of the home, the husband, the dog, work…. it is easy to not even realize you are lost. However, when there are those moments of quiet or calm and that feeling starts to come over you. It is almost like a gray fog that gradually becomes all-consuming.

I am not sure I would define it as depression, but that seems to be the easiest category to fit it into. I am working to learn how to manage this. How to find myself amidst it all, and actually discovering if the person I thought I was is actually who I am or just who I wanted to be. That complicates things a bit but in diving down deep to my subconscious self I begin to realize that it may just be that I never was that girl. Having some old friends surround you, with true girl perspective is helping me find out. And you know what I learned….. even if I wasn’t that girl and even if I am lost now… what a great time to carve a new path and start by being the woman I want to be now….

Where does a woman begin?

I used to keep a journal. I found that it really helped sort out the ramblings in my head. Allowing me to vent. Cry. Share what I dared not. All without sacrificing my secrets, privacy, and most of all pride. How ancient of me… Now it is facebook, blogs, everyone spewing every second of their day to 100′s or even 1000′s of ‘friends’. I am not sure if this is the right outlet for me, but being that I have found myself in a quandary of sorts in keeping my thoughts rational, I thought I would give it a go and see what this fuss was about.

So with that, here is where I start… with the questions weighing on me. Balancing what is heard so often, those praises of the woman – how she is expected to be all, do all, bear all and still have dinner on the table, look ravishing and fit and oh by the way be charming and lovable. Seriously? Yes, I am woman and hear me roar. Yes, I can do all that. And Yes, I can do it in stilettos or flats should I choose them and look pretty damn good while I do it. But why is it that we are expected to? Is it a burden we place on ourselves, fighting for equality. Or one we say we fight, but really embrace to feel purpose? Why is it that a woman who cares about her child is referred to as a bear? Not a teddy bear but a mama bear with claws out ready to tear apart those who are in her way?

Be it a mother, a sister, a friend, a lover … why is it when we choose to fight or stand up for what we feel is right we are either a b&*^h or a crusader. Why are we not simply a woman…one who may be right or may be wrong, who has the right to make mistakes, be misguided or be educated and completely justified. I hope to someday be just that. A woman who stood up for what she felt was right, did not settle, was an amazing friend, family member, wife and mother. I don’t need any of the other labels, dramatic, crude or what have you.  I just want to be able to feel that I was the best me I could be and gave the best to my friends and family.