Leaving Him In The Dust

When I was younger and I was dumped by a boyfriend (or two…or three) or left in the dust by this friend or that friend, I’d wallow in self pity for months.  I’d lose weight rapidly because of the stress and anguish and then get right back up on the proverbial horse and ride off into the sunset of singlehood, always searching for another Prince Charming to sweep me off my feet.

It’s different this time.  Much different.  This breakup is affecting me in ways I haven’t even begun to realize.  Our relationship started off well…long emails of getting to know you’s…learning more about each other’s lives.  Realizing that we loved each other and saying it out loud.

I’m 99.99% positive it’s over now.  While I still love him…it can never be the same.  We’ve come to a crossroads and I’m taking a different path than the one I’d hoped we’d travel together for the rest of our lives.

I’m devastated though.  I’m not going to search for anyone else to share my hopes and dreams with, nor will I continue to pray that he comes around to my way of thinking…I can’t do that to myself.  He deserves to live his life the way he needs to, and it’s become clear that I’m just not part of his grand plan. 

I guess that’s why I’ve been very quiet on my blog lately.  I’ve been avoiding discussing this part of my life because it hurts too much.  I’m keeping myself busy though.  The kids are on the go..getting involved with afterschool activities and having friends over to hang out.  I’m working full time and in my down time I’m making holiday gifts for my friends and family.  Thinking of starting up an Etsy shop soon once I get a good handle on my crochet hook again…several of my friends are on there and have had great success.  Plus, I’ve been dealing with the same old issues related to my ex and his wife.  I tried to be Ms. Nice Mom and ignore the $5,500 in past due child support…tried not to be snarky when I’m told by my ex that he is working and can’t get our son on the day he’s supposed to (if he’s working, I’d love to know where the hell the support is, but whatever..lol)..tried to be as tactful as possible when discussing the cat hair debacle (that went over like a fart in church).  Just a lot on my plate.  So dealing with this “breakup” is taking the back burner because if I sat down and really thought about it, I’d go over the edge.

I’ll miss him…but I keep telling myself it’s for the best.

I’m trying to dig out from this funk…and it’ll help to write about it, especially given the circumstances of this “dumping”.

Resting In Pieces

The stress of the past few days has finally caught up with me.  I am in the beginning stages of a horrible head cold.  Never fails that if I’m dealing with a lot, I get sick.

It started Friday with my blowout with K, my ex’s wife.  Admittedly, not my finest moment.

Saturday was actually wonderful…went out with Steven for our 8^th anniversary to a really nice restaurant.  But that was kind of stressful too because even though I told myself I was being an idiot, I had hoped that it would have been “THE” night for a proposal.  No go.  But it was amazing to reconnect as a couple and the food was yumtastic.  I’ve had people tell me that maybe I need to propose to him…but that’s just not how I envision things to go.  And so, I wait.  Usually patiently, but sometimes, not so much.

Sunday was laid back…spent a couple hours with Maddie at my mom’s pool then watched a movie with Steven.

Yesterday, I picked up Chase from K again and aside from me asking her how things went with a response of “Fine” and a side of her infamous stink eye on the side, I was outta there.  Got home and was reading FBook and almost threw up.  One of my good friends from Kindergarten through high school died in a car accident while on vacation in Germany.  He was the first friend from school to die and I’m not quite sure how to handle it.

Makes your own mortality come zooming to the forefront of your mind. 

I immediately called two other friends that I’ve stayed in contact with since school and had to deliver the news to them because I didn’t want them to see it on FBook first.  What comforted me was telling them both at the end of the calls that I love them…and hearing them say it in return.  We may not be invincible beings, but we are human beings and feeling love was something I really needed last night.

And so, to Brian, rest in peace my friend.  You were an amazing person and I will never forget you.  We spent many a car ride home from school and Peer Leadership meetings blasting the radio, singing along to Elton John and Neil Diamond at the top of our lungs.   You were the person who coined my nickname “Steener”, said in the funny voice of our Physics teacher.  You were the one who helped me pass Geometry in our sophmore year.  You were the one who was unafraid to get up in front of the entire school and lip sync to Copacabana, dressed like Barry Manilow.  You were brilliant in life..and you are brilliant in death.

30 Days of Truth ~ Day Seven

Day 7: Someone who has made your life worth living for.


They have taught me...

how to make the silliest faces.

how to enjoy turning cartwheels in the grass during the summer.

how to snuggle.

how to be patient.

how to find wonder in the smallest things.

how to discipline without being abusive.

how jumping on the bed singing Hannah Montana is actually really fun.

how to laugh at myself.

how to trust another person unconditionally.

how to love.

Coffee Talk with Christina : Part Three

Remember back in August when I asked for questions because I was having writer's block?  Well, I kind of am at the same place again...and am going to answer Lee's question now to jumpstart my creative juices.

Thanks Lee!

"What I might ask if we chatted over coffee would be how has your childhood informed how you parent your children today? I would ask this because although I am not adopted I had a very um odd family dynamic and found myself doing lots of sifting and casting out of things when I wanted to be a parent."

My childhood sucked. I was afraid of my aparents and felt lost and alone 99.99% of the time. I’d spend hours upon hours either in my room or outside in the woods by myself, inventing fairytale scenarios that I’d make up in my head. Often they’d involve a dramatic rescue…white horse, damsel in distress, the whole nine yards. My favorite book as a child was “A Little Princess” because for all intents and purposes, I WAS her.


As a mother, I’ve allowed my kids the freedom to be themselves. If that means that my son dresses up like Hannah Montana and prances around the house singing at the top of his lungs, then that’s okay with me. If that means that my daughter dresses in jeans and t-shirts all the time and rolls her eyes at me when it’s time to brush her teeth, then so be it. There are boundaries, of course, but I am bound and determined that my children will NEVER be afraid of me. The hugs and the kisses and the snuggles are given freely and without any fear of a slap across the face in the next moment.

I always make sure to let the kids know that I’m proud of them…that no matter how Maddie sings, or how Chase does on his spelling test, I’m proud. I never quite was able to obtain my aparents’ approval. My asister was the smart one…the one who made it farther with our piano lessons than I did…the one who got accepted into a better college than I did…the one who made straight A’s every time. Now I know that she did all those things to prove to our aparents that she was worthy enough of their love, but maybe a part of me was rebelling against them. And getting a B on my report card, while not really rebel worthy, was the best (or worst) I could do.

While I know that I need to make sure my kids are safe, I will not suffocate them. I know that they need to have their own lives and experience things that I never got to experience. I had to beg…literally beg…to be allowed to go out with my friends in high school. And when I’d get home I’d get the silent treatment for a good day and a half because I surely hadn’t deserved to be allowed to go, but they’d relented and now I was going to pay for it. I just wanted to have a little fun in an otherwise dreary existence…not too much to ask for…and it WON’T be too much for my kids to ask for. Ever.


By the way, this is Chase, dressed up like Hannah Montana...

 

Weighty Issues

My head is like a bowl of mush.  I've been feeling like I can't form a complete sentence without sounding like an imbecile so I've been avoiding this blog.  Possibly it's because I skipped therapy last week and even though I thought I was okay with that, my anxiety and depression levels have risen substantially in recent days and I seriously think I'm losing it.

Truthfully, this post might make me sound shallow..but it's my blog so if you don't like, screw (lol).  I hate the way I look.  I've gained a good 50 pounds and when you are only 5'3", that weight adds up quickly on small bones.  I don't look in mirrors if I can help it...and believe me, that takes a great deal of finagling when there's a full length mirror in the bathroom across from the shower.  I hate getting pictures taken of myself...unless they are from the neck up only.  I'll hide behind people so nothing shows except my face..and again, that takes finagling because they always put the short ones in the front. 

Last week, we had a retirement party for one of our colleagues..and the office busybody was bustling around taking pictures of each table.  I tried to hide..I really did..but it didn't work.  And the next day when she passed out our copies of the pictures, I could have sunk down into the floor and sobbed.  I feel really gross.  Seeing myself hammered home the fact that I am not healthy.  And it hurts like crazy.

At my last therapy session two weeks ago, I'd told my therapist that I really want to start doing things to make me happy.  That I need to start taking better care of myself emotionally and physically.  So tonight, she asked me what I've done to fulfill that wish.

I came up with one thing.  Only one thing out of fourteen days.  I took off to the beach for the day with Chase, my natural sister and our mom.  And that day was magical...aside from the frigging bathing suit business.  We dug in the sand and made sand castles...jumped in the waves and laughed as the water splashed us.  Watched a guy on a surfboard being pulled along behind a kite.  Was awesome.

But when she said, "And what else?" I had to admit, I had nothing.

I've decided that I'm going to pack my sneakers in my car tomorrow and start walking again.  Working my way up to jogging/running.  I need to figure out my life...and if I can get healthy, hopefully that will aid in my healing.  I'm tired of the weight that is wearing me down.  And the thing is, I'm not just talking about my body's physical weight...it's the emotional weight as well. 

On a completely different note, the day before we went to the beach, my amother asked to borrow our shovel so she could go to my grandfather's grave and dig a bed for his flowers.  I knew it was going to be hot out so I told her I'd go help her.  The kids and I picked her up and away we went.  Three-quarters of the way there she said, "Hey, do you mind if we go to your dad's grave so we can water his flowers?".

::thud::

My heart started racing, and I began to panic. 

"Sure.  That's fine."  I heard myself say.

While on the inside, I was shouting...You frigging idiot..what are you doing???? 

We got to the cemetery and were digging around Bumpa's stone...planting more flowers, watering the existing ones..while the kids danced merrily around my jeep.

After several minutes I mustered up my courage.

"Hey Mom...I don't mind driving to dad's cemetery, but I'm going to just sit in the car and the kids can help you water, okay?"  I kept my head down and kept digging.

I can't honestly remember what she said..probably something like "Are you alright?  We don't have to go...".

"No, we can go..it's just that I'm just finally realizing that I haven't been honest about some of my feelings..and I'm just trying to honor my truths...".

"Well, if you are sure...the kids can help me water the flowers and you can pull the car up past the stone.  I appreciate you being able to share that you're uncomfortable..".

And so, that's what I did.  The panic eased...and afterwards, I felt lighter.  I guess that's another thing I did for myself to make me happy.

Two things.  It's a start.

Bear With Me!

Sorry for not updating my beloved blog lately...I have no excuses...but if I did, they would probably include the following:

1.) Easter...It's not easy being the Bunny's personal assistant.

2.) Work...Thank goodness Quarter end is over and I can get back down to the business of slacking off at my desk and blogging more.

3.) Snuggle Boy aka my 7 year old bundle of boy...He's very cuddly, but the situation is not very conducive in that it's difficult having my laptop and his head on my lap at the same time.

4.) Little Miss Acts-Like-She's-Already-A-Crabby-Teenager...No comment.  Ugh.

5.) Stupid allergies...I swear I have sneezed more times in the past two days than I have in my entire 35 years on this earth.

6.) Depression and anxiety...I just am overwhelmed about everything and nothing all at once.

I also owe an answer to an email question that I promised I'd get to...and, to that reader (and new friend), I want you to know that I haven't forgotten you!!