A year of firsts
I will write about my magnificent afternoon at the Angela Moore fashion on Monday. I just can't right now. Write now. My mind is elsewhere. It's clouded and a million miles away. Before you read on you may want to read my article over at The Daily Basics. Thank you Cynthia and Shelley for allowing me to have a voice, and to share that voice with your readers.
For those of you who have been following me for a while now, you know that I am in the midst of a divorce. The decision is never an easy one. We have good days and horrific days. I love my children more than anything on this earth... in this world. I've made my decisions in life so that I can better my life as well as the lives of my children. Making decisions is not always easy and often they are accompanied by pain and hardship. I am currently going through my Year of Firsts. The first time we do anything that is not within our norm is never easy. This year it is particularly hard.
I am trying with all my might to handle this properly with grace and strength. It seems lately, however, I am losing my handle on both.
For the past 14 years my children and I have summered a bit in Maine. It has been the highlight of our summer. I have never known differently. This summer my children are going. Without me. I knew this was coming. I have known for a long time that this was coming and have been dreading these days for months. As the weeks and days and hours have gotten closer I have gotten more and more anxious, worked up upset. I do not want this day to come. My children leave me tomorrow morning, at the crack of dawn, for a week. They tell me that they will miss me. And they will to a certain degree. But they will be busy and having such a great time that they won't think of me. Not much at least. I don't want them to. I don't want them to think of me. I would be remiss to say I don't want them to miss me, but I want their days to be packed with such joy and fun and wonderment and making memories that they barely have time to think of, let alone miss me.
I, on the other hand, am the one that is going to be left behind. In a too big and too lonely house with their reminders all around me. I have never spent more than a night or two away from my children. And usually, I have at least one or two with me. I need to get through this. At some point they will grow up and they won't be here any longer. But they are my children and they are still so little and they belong with me.
I know it sounds stupid and trite. I know that every day I yearn for time away from them. I know they drive me crazy. I know they are loud and messy. I know they don't do what I ask of them (all the time) but to want a few hours to myself is not wanting an entire week without them.
It might sound selfish. It might sound immature. But I will not and cannot pack for them this year. It is just too painful. I just cannot bear to. I am tired of crying. I am tired of hurting. I am tired of missing them -- and they haven't even left yet! I am tired...
I went to Newport yesterday with two wonderful friends. (See yesterday's post) I did this for myself for many reasons. I had to leave my children home for the day. I left the house at 5:30 in the morning and was home less than 12 hours later. I missed my children. I could not wait to come back to them. But still I have to go. I must do things for myself on both personal and professional levels. I need to continue to grow alongside my children. I need to chase my dreams and desires. After all, if I do not, I am no model to my own children. I cannot let my hopes and aspirations go to the wayside.
I got such grief and slack for leaving home yesterday. I leave so rarely and so rarely because I get so much slack. I had two articles to write the other day. I am a writer. It is what I do. Writing involves a certain amount of solitary time and writing involves my laptop. I cannot just sit down and produce. Nary a writer can. Sometimes the words and thoughts and ideas flow seamlessly and perfectly onto the page. But most often this is not the case. In most cases I stare at a blank page or screen. In most cases it takes a while for the right words to come and take shape and develop into something that I will see fit to release.
If I leave the home I am wronged. If I stay home and write I am wronged. (For I am ignoring the children.) How does one balance everything? How does a single mother balance everything without being knocked over by those who are neither supportive, nor understand?
I will have an entire week to write as of tomorrow. But what happens often, too often, is that I am a prisoner of my own sadness and emotions and paralyzed by them so.
As with everything, this too shall pass. My children will leave. My tears will flow. I will be heartbroken and sad and lonely for them. But as always I will pick myself up. I will wipe my tears and know that this is just another first to put behind me.
I'll get through this. I always do. I will figure out how to make this all work. I always do!
Meantime, I am thankful for my fabulous friends who have offered to distract me as best as they can over the next week. I love you all dearly!
XOXO
For those of you who have been following me for a while now, you know that I am in the midst of a divorce. The decision is never an easy one. We have good days and horrific days. I love my children more than anything on this earth... in this world. I've made my decisions in life so that I can better my life as well as the lives of my children. Making decisions is not always easy and often they are accompanied by pain and hardship. I am currently going through my Year of Firsts. The first time we do anything that is not within our norm is never easy. This year it is particularly hard.
I am trying with all my might to handle this properly with grace and strength. It seems lately, however, I am losing my handle on both.
For the past 14 years my children and I have summered a bit in Maine. It has been the highlight of our summer. I have never known differently. This summer my children are going. Without me. I knew this was coming. I have known for a long time that this was coming and have been dreading these days for months. As the weeks and days and hours have gotten closer I have gotten more and more anxious, worked up upset. I do not want this day to come. My children leave me tomorrow morning, at the crack of dawn, for a week. They tell me that they will miss me. And they will to a certain degree. But they will be busy and having such a great time that they won't think of me. Not much at least. I don't want them to. I don't want them to think of me. I would be remiss to say I don't want them to miss me, but I want their days to be packed with such joy and fun and wonderment and making memories that they barely have time to think of, let alone miss me.
I, on the other hand, am the one that is going to be left behind. In a too big and too lonely house with their reminders all around me. I have never spent more than a night or two away from my children. And usually, I have at least one or two with me. I need to get through this. At some point they will grow up and they won't be here any longer. But they are my children and they are still so little and they belong with me.
I know it sounds stupid and trite. I know that every day I yearn for time away from them. I know they drive me crazy. I know they are loud and messy. I know they don't do what I ask of them (all the time) but to want a few hours to myself is not wanting an entire week without them.
It might sound selfish. It might sound immature. But I will not and cannot pack for them this year. It is just too painful. I just cannot bear to. I am tired of crying. I am tired of hurting. I am tired of missing them -- and they haven't even left yet! I am tired...
I went to Newport yesterday with two wonderful friends. (See yesterday's post) I did this for myself for many reasons. I had to leave my children home for the day. I left the house at 5:30 in the morning and was home less than 12 hours later. I missed my children. I could not wait to come back to them. But still I have to go. I must do things for myself on both personal and professional levels. I need to continue to grow alongside my children. I need to chase my dreams and desires. After all, if I do not, I am no model to my own children. I cannot let my hopes and aspirations go to the wayside.
I got such grief and slack for leaving home yesterday. I leave so rarely and so rarely because I get so much slack. I had two articles to write the other day. I am a writer. It is what I do. Writing involves a certain amount of solitary time and writing involves my laptop. I cannot just sit down and produce. Nary a writer can. Sometimes the words and thoughts and ideas flow seamlessly and perfectly onto the page. But most often this is not the case. In most cases I stare at a blank page or screen. In most cases it takes a while for the right words to come and take shape and develop into something that I will see fit to release.
If I leave the home I am wronged. If I stay home and write I am wronged. (For I am ignoring the children.) How does one balance everything? How does a single mother balance everything without being knocked over by those who are neither supportive, nor understand?
I will have an entire week to write as of tomorrow. But what happens often, too often, is that I am a prisoner of my own sadness and emotions and paralyzed by them so.
As with everything, this too shall pass. My children will leave. My tears will flow. I will be heartbroken and sad and lonely for them. But as always I will pick myself up. I will wipe my tears and know that this is just another first to put behind me.
I'll get through this. I always do. I will figure out how to make this all work. I always do!
Meantime, I am thankful for my fabulous friends who have offered to distract me as best as they can over the next week. I love you all dearly!
XOXO
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