Moving out and moving in

So I'm officially moved out of my apartment and into my house. Many emotions surfaced as I reflected on the year I spent in that apartment. I closed the door to it for the last time much happier than when I opened the first time, and that is a good feeling, but I also feel like I'm parting with a friend.

It was in that apartment that I rediscovered myself, forced to take the time necessary to closely examine my life, what it had become and what I wanted it to be. When I separated from my husband and sought out my own domicile I wasn't able to put words to my feelings, only able to act on them. I had lost the ability to ask for the things I needed, and I made the choices I felt necessary to calm the incessant chatter in my mind. I find it hard to say I regret the pain experienced in that process, even though I do feel guilty that my son was caught in the midst of my troubled mind, but looking back I still feel the experience was important and that I wouldn't be sitting here so calm, peaceful and overwhelmingly happy if I hadn't acted on those impulses a year ago.

That apartment was my haven, my sanctuary, my place to reclaim me. I hibernated over the winter, cried many, many bitter tears of loss and loneliness, forced myself to discover again what fulfilled me. I resumed my knitting, watched more "chick flicks" that I care to truly own up to, journaled, read many books, crafted, and have I mentioned I cried? It sounds almost boring to see it in print but for me it was an awakening. And in the midst of that awakening, I fell in love with my husband again because I fell in love with me again.

So thank you, tiny little apartment on the east side of town, for all you provided for me in the past year. Part of me will miss you and always reflect fondly on our time together. Many blessings on the next tenant. My hope is you will bless her life as much as you blessed mine.

Renewed

It has been a while, but I felt this blog needed a visit. Perhaps even some new pictures. All in due time.

As a brief update I will say that life handed me some lemons and I made the best cocktail I could imagine. I have fallen madly in love (again) with my best friend of 11+ years (who also happens to be my baby daddy) and learned the importance of taking care of one's self. If you had asked me a year ago if I could imagine myself in such a spot and I would have said, "No way!" I'm glad life likes to toss a few surprises in every now and then.

Perhaps updates will come more frequently, but I promise nothing. All I know is life is very good right now and I am immensely grateful.

I need a vacation

I desperately need a vacation. But not just any vacation. I don't need palm trees and laying on the beach. I don't need a mountain cabin beside a babbling brook. I'm not talking cruise or a week of doing nothing but sipping margaritas and reading novel after novel after novel. All great options, yes, but not what I need.

What I really need is a week in which I have full freedom and space to just cry and scream and feel everything that comes with acknowledging what doesn't work in your life and attempting to work through it. Whoever said that breaking up is hard to do wasn't kidding. It's awful, even when you know it's the right thing, when you know that the path you've been traveling is hurting, not helping. And I want quite desperately to process it all, to grieve properly and fully, to honor this part of my life as fully as I can before taking the next step, but there's a job to show up for, a son who needs to know his mama is still devoted to him, laundry to wash and fold, dishes to clean, a dog to show at least some level of attention to (sorry about that, Mojo), a garden to tend, etc., etc. At the end of the day, there is no time for tears or mourning. It's time for collapsing into bed, attempting to get some degree of rest, only to wake and repeat the cycle another day.

What's odd for me is that I want to mourn this. I want to feel the pain and process it. I want to hash out within me all of the gritty emotions that led me to this place and learn from the mistakes I made. I want to face those demons and come out stronger for the fight. I want to really get to know me, to discover what I like and don't like, what suits me and what doesn't. It's not a reinvention I'm after - it's figuring out who the hell I am in the first place.

So I need a vacation, some time to sit by myself and let it all out, to cry until there are no more tears. And then I want to dry my eyes, stand up tall and emerge with a new energy and renewed sense of self.

After all, that's what vacation is all about, isn't it?

Swim Lessons

Some pictures from today's last swim lesson. Before we started, you would only find my boy clutching desperately to my neck in a pool. Now after four lessons he's comfortable enough to cruise back and forth on a noodle. Not much longer before he's going completely solo!

Harvest

To date my garden has yielded two lovely zucchini, a beautiful ear of corn, a hearty bunch of broccoli and a delicious eggplant. There is still much growing, and soon I hope to have more zucchini, corn, broccoli and eggplant as well as lots of tomatoes, potatoes, cantaloupe, and a watermelon or two. I love growing my own food and wish I had more space to do so. Meals taste so much better when the food comes straight from the garden!

Sick Days

Am I wrong for enjoying the days I get to stay home from work and take care of my sick child? It's not that I enjoy his discomfort or misery or that it delights me to see him cry or in pain. I love the part where he snuggles into me, looks to me for comfort only a mom can give, lets me give him as many hugs and kisses as I want. I suppose I am taking for granted that my boy is so rarely ill, and I am incredibly thankful for that blessing. I'm simultaneously thankful for these golden moments where I can once again hold him sleeping in my arms, lay my cheek on his sweet little head, and just soak up the overwhelming joy that fills me to be so close to him.

I'm not sure if all almost-4-year-olds are melodramatic, but mine sure is. When I went to take his temperature this morning, he wailed that it would "take years to do that." After I informed him, quite matter-of-factly I might add, that he did indeed have a fever, he began crying, saying, "Not a fever! Not a fever!" Perhaps I have a budding thespian on my hands?

And it turns out that not even a high fever can curtail the steady stream of chatter that flows so freely from his darling mouth. That boy has a lot to say, and only in sleep is he truly quiet for long. I know I'm naive for this, but I'm hoping this gift of gab will remain with him for years to come and enable us to have open communication during those very challenging adolescent years. A mom can dream, right?

The wheel keeps turning

I'd like to know who or what has taken over my son. My even-tempered boy has suddenly taken to throwing extravagant tantrums once more and to sheer defiance. It has taken me completely off guard, and I admit I have not reacted as ideally as I would like. Being a mom who is so concerned with not screwing this parenting thing up too badly, I tend to over-analyze the situation: why is he behaving this way? What need am I not filling? Is it because he knows mom and dad are separating without being directly told? Is it because he doesn't attend preschool anymore? I'm sure the reality is that it's a perfectly natural, normal part of development, but I'm so eager to raise a "good" boy that I am often guilty of overlooking the obvious in an attempt to be proactive. Silly mom...

More often than not I find myself staring in my boy's face and feeling constantly surprised that I'm actually seeing a boy now and not a baby or even a toddler so much anymore. He's a boy, a "real" boy, and I'm often overwhelmed with the sensation that it's all happening too fast. Such a funny thought considering only 3 1/2 years ago I thought every day was an eternity and secretly wished time would fast forward just enough to bring me some sense of peace in mothering (have I mentioned my boy was a colicky baby?). And even in the midst of his periods of testing his limits, I still have the awareness that I should embrace these moments because in time I'll miss them.

What I really should do is take a deep breath, give my boy a big hug and a kiss, and just play.