Teh Awesome

In July, on the first night of BlogHer, I met someone I’d never “met” online. I met the lovely Renee, also known as But Why Mommy. After a bit, I found myself sitting across the table from her, at a not so great pizza joint in downtown Chicago. I felt a bit weird because it seemed like I was the only one at the table who didn’t know who she was. The thing that made me feel better, was I didn’t believe she knew who I was either. (Watch, I’ll be wrong about that.) We started talking about our kids. I told her how sad I’d been that morning to leave 10 month old Harrison and how Bailey had been really upset, until Logan had offered her donuts. Yes, my child traded me for a donut. Renee told me all about Bunny, her then three year old; about her love of dinosaurs, how smart she was, how amazing an artist she was at such a young age. When she talked about Bunny, her face lit up. I remember that, even now.

Then I asked her if Bunny was going to be an only child or if they’d have another one day. Renee then said, well we adopted Bunny from China and we’d like to say we’ll one day give her a sibling, but it seems unlikely right now. She told me that they were in the process of adopting a son from Ethiopia, but it seemed like it just might not happen. That the process didn’t seem to progressing at all. That she was unsure if they would continue to move forward or give up. She was sad about that and trying not to be. Trying not to show it. We barely knew each other and I wanted to hug her. I know that feeling, the wanting to expand your family and thinking it will never happen. But all I could say was, oh I really hope it all works out for you. I’d only known the girl for an hour.

That was eight months ago. Eight months is a long time, but also not such a long time. Long enough to make a great friend. Although truthfully, I felt like Renee was a great friend after four days.

Today though, eight months later, my amazing friend is very, very close to bringing her son Lion home. What I mean is, they could literally be going to get him in a few weeks. He is for sure their son. They got that news about ten days ago. Now they just wait for all the paperwork to come in. Then? They go bring their boy home, where he belongs. With Renee and her husband; with his big sister Bunny.

I wanted to do something for my friend. Something big, something amazing. Something to show her how much I love her and how thrilled I am for her. I wanted to throw her a baby shower. Maybe an adoption shower? However, this is the Internet. And? Renee and I live three states away from each other. We have amazing friends, but they are scattered all over the country. It doesn’t make for easy parties. I did the next best thing, I put together an Internet baby shower. There are no brownies, or little cakes, but it has something better than that, tons of friends and love. Which really is more important than little cakes. (Oh how I’d take a little cake right now.)

Anyway…Renee, welcome to your baby shower. **hands over silly hat and little cake** Make yourself comfy, you have a bunch of reading to do today.

I thought about what I could share with you, Renee. What could I possibly tell you that is helpful. I figure I can give you a few pointers on parenting boys. You know from my vast knowledge of the past nearly 17 months. Snort.

1. Boys pee. They pee upwards. This was new for me. Here is my helpful hint. Something I still do to this day. Take a wipe and throw it on the dang thing, the second you open the diaper. Just trust me on this one. Harrison hasn’t peed on me in months, but he still could. It’s something I fully believe to be true.

2. Boys are loud. Not screechy loud like little girls, but volume loud. Very, very loud. Invest in ear plugs.

3. Boys like things that move. Cars, balls, trains, toys that move. They don’t generally care much for toys that don’t do something. Unless it’s tupperware, 100 DVD boxes that can be thrown on the floor or you, when you are sitting. You are a jungle gym. I hope you knew that.

4. Boys are dirty. I have a daughter who is dirty too. Truly, we call her pig pen sometimes. But Harrison is very little and he’s always dirty. Always. I always wonder how he can get dirty playing with his train set in my basement. But he can.

5. Silver wear is a joke. Only give it to him, if you like things chucked at your head. Harrison will eat anything and everything. I do mean everything. But he’s not so big on forks and spoons. He prefers the whole hand as a shovel method.

6. Boys are sweet and cuddly and absolute joys. Parenting a boy, after girls gives me more joy than I could even put into words. I melt each time he gives me that little impish grin. He knows it too, little brat. Ha.

You are a great mom my friend. I have no doubt that Lion is one lucky, amazing little boy. I can’t wait to meet him.

Below is a Mr. Linky. Our friends who had the chance, will be linking posts for you throughout the day. We just wanted you too know that you are loved and that we all love your tiny boy, even though we haven’t met him yet.

ps. I sent you a box. A bit late, but yeah…I’m me. Stuff I said I’d send. Some gifts I bought and a little something for Bunny. Love you sweetie. I could not be more thrilled about you bringing Lion home.

Tonight I needed a break from reality. Luckily my mom is in town, so she recommended I take myself to a movie, while she stayed with the kids. I decided to go see Valentine’s Day. I figured either it’d be really dang funny or I’d come out of it depressed. But hey, that’s nothing new, so a movie wouldn’t really make it any worse. I could use a good laugh, was my thinking, so I decided to give it a shot.

I’ll be honest with you, I’m not a fan of Valentine’s Day. Shocker, no? Snort. I’ve never really been into it, it’s not just this year. It’s overly commercial, it is disappointing for most people and no matter what, you shouldn’t just show people you love them one day a year. The only thing I love about it, is buying cute shirts for my kids. Which possibly says more about my shopping addiction then my dis-like of this particular Hallmark holiday.

So I went and saw the movie. Have you seen the preview?

Oh I’m so smart, I can embed it. Maybe. Let me see here. Oh yay, it worked.

It was, not surprisingly, really freaking funny. It’s a romantic comedy. It’s a chick flick.  It has the who’s who of Hollywood, all in one movie. Everyone from Shirley Maclaine to Taylor Swift. You’ve got McDreamy, McSteamy, Jennifer Garner, Bradley Cooper and Ashton Kutcher all in one movie. So many others, more than I could even begin to name.

It was a very random, very funny movie. It had one theme. Love. Of course, I mean it isn’t called Valentine’s Day for nothing, right? It’s a movie about love. Tons of small stories about love. Everything from elementary school love to 50 year marriage love to love gone wrong. Life, love, the silly things people do on Valentine’s Day, all in the name of love.

I liked it. I laughed. It was cute. It made me happy, in some strange way.

Then I came home. To my new life. I am not bitter about tomorrow. I’m just bitter in general. There is a difference, I promise you. I adore love. I truly do. I loved being in love, which is why it hurts as bad as it does, to find out that I was the only one in love for a long time. I still love, love. I don’t have what I thought I had. Not anymore.

Here’s what I know though: In my guest room, the first person I ever loved is asleep. My mother. I love her, no matter what. That is something that never, ever changes. She loves me, no matter what. No matter what stupid mistakes I’ve made, no matter how much I screw up my life, no matter what I say to her. She still loves me.

Sleeping in their beds tonight are two little girls and a tiny little boy, who have my entire heart. I have loved them, since I saw the little heartbeat on the monitor…maybe even before then. I will always love them. No matter what, forever, I will love them.

I may not have what I thought I had, but I have them. Life didn’t turn out how I thought it would. In some ways it turned out close. Life isn’t something you can choose. It just happens to you.

I still choose love. Always and forever, I will choose love.

I worried. Worried about sharing my story with the world. I worried so much that I didn’t sleep the night before it was posted. At all.

When Maggie said, it’s your turn, are you ready, I said yes. Not because I really was though. It’s been six months since I wrote that post. I have wondered when my turn came, if I’d say no or yes, for six long months. Not a day went by without me wondering. Truth? Any other time, any other week in between the day I sent it to her and Sunday, I may have said no. On Sunday, in that moment, I said okay. Then I didn’t sleep.

I hid all day yesterday. I may hide more. I am afraid. I am vulnerable and that scares me. I put my deepest darkest secrets out into the world and it terrifies me. It shouldn’t. I’ve shared other things and you all have supported me. I have read each and every comment over there. Everyone has been sweet and kind. I’m still scared. This is different. This? I wish I didn’t even have to know, much less share it with everyone.

Six months ago I wrote that post. I wrote it because I was triggered. I wrote it because I had too. It was time. Time to be honest. Time to stop stuffing it. Time to learn to deal with it. It was one of the hardest things I ever did. I didn’t think I was strong enough to post it. I was grateful when Maggie said, it could be months before it goes up. I’m still not sure I’m strong enough to talk about it. I hit send that day, sent it to Maggie for VU, because a friends bravery made me think I may be strong enough.Then, because I was hysterical and needed to be talked of a ledge, I sent it to someone else. Then? I had to deal with it.

I’ve been in therapy ever since then. First to deal with the that, then to deal with my current situation. Both in fact. YAY me. Sigh.

I’ve been on the edge of tears for two days now. I can’t even tell you for sure why I’m writing this. Maybe its because writing helps me. Maybe it’s because I have a knack for feeling like I should explain or apologize. Maybe??? Who knows.

I apologize often. For everything. For nothing. For things I perceive to be failures on my part. For things I perceive that I’ve said badly. It annoys some people. I’ve actually lost friends because of it. I eventually have to tell friends, I say I’m sorry often, but I swear to you, I never say it if I don’t mean it. It’s just that I always feel I need to say I’m sorry about something.

It’s one of the many things that I do because of my childhood. I know this. I’ve been told this in therapy. Will I ever stop doing it? I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe not. I’m not sure that it matters. There are other things. Some small, some major. The thing is, it changed who I would become. From seven years old, I became a little adult. I had no choice. My choice was taken away.

You think you can stuff it away. That if you don’t talk about it, it isn’t real. That as long as you get up and live your life, you’ve done okay. I believed for years that as long as I protected my kids one day, none of this mattered. It isn’t true though. It changed me. Not dealing with it changed me. Dealing with it, these past six months has changed me again.
I thought I’d feel better sharing. Thought it would free me in some way. Make it somehow easier. Maybe in a day or two, or a week or two, this will be the case.

I’m worried. Worried that what I shared is too much. Worried that I burdened you all.

Mostly though, I’m scared. Scared that this forever changes how you will look at me, think about me. Others have shared and I have not felt different about them at all. Not in the least. I’ve always wondered if that’s because I understand. Because I get it. I get them. However, I’m still scared. Exposed. Tired. Scared.

I want to write a book. I’ll call it, Divorce for Dummies. I’ve tried to find something like it, but it doesn’t seem to exist, which means, I can write it. I think there is a need. There is a need for those of us who never thought we’d be in this situation, to know what to do next.

Maybe since the, For Dummies thing has been done by others, I’ll need to call it something else. Divorce 101? Divorce, the baby steps? Title needs work, but I’m not kidding on the book.

It’s the big things that people think about. The big huge emotional crap. The, how the hell did I get here and what did I do wrong? The, oh shit this is really my life now? Those are the big things that I think….okay obsessively think about. Because this isn’t easy. None of this is easy. I have no idea what I’m doing. The big stuff, I won’t write about. Because heck if I have any advice. I’ll leave that for shrinks and Dr. Phil. I’m just happy if I make it to the end of the day.

No, I won’t be writing about that. I’m talking about the small things. The things you wish someone would tell you. The things you have to figure out the hard way. The things you wouldn’t even think about. This is going to be a work in progress, because well I’m only five weeks into this shit. I’m not exactly the poster child for a successful divorce story yet. What I can do is share with you what I’ve learned so far.

1. ALWAYS and I do mean ALWAYS, check to make sure you have toilet paper before you go to the bathroom at night. In the day time, you may be able to scream for a kid. A kid who will make fun of you, but whatever, they’ll still bring you toilet paper. But it’s hard to scream at your children at 9pm for toilet paper, when they’ve been asleep for an hour. (Or when they are sleeping at their dad’s house.) Don’t think I didn’t consider it, because I did. Just trust me, check the toilet paper.

2. Sleep in the middle of the bed. Take up all the pillows. Enjoy all the blankies. Flop around. Kick your legs. Stretch your arms out. If you want, buy pretty girly sheets. Know why? Because you can. If you were used to the sound of light snoring and can’t seem to sleep, buy a noise machine, fall asleep to quiet music, something. Know that it takes a while to feel okay in the middle of the bed, but you’ll get there. It’s cozy there.

3. The remote is now yours. You can now DVR or watch whatever you want, whenever you want. Well unless you have an eight year old like mine…in which case, I KNOW YOUR PAIN. Ahem. It was really funny to me when I was talking to my bff one night and realized I hadn’t been watching CSI NY for years because Logan has issues with Gary Sinese. I’ve now been watching it for the past few weeks.

4. It’s okay. It’s all okay. It’s okay to cry for weeks. It’s okay to not cry. It’s okay to feed your kids cereal and grilled cheese for weeks. It’s okay to eat out, often. It’s okay to suddenly let your five year old into bed with you every single night if you want. It’s okay to not know what to do. It’s okay. Don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise.

5. You will find yourself correcting your words all the time. You will think you need to say, I, me or my, instead of we all of the time. Yes, eventually you do. But not at first. I’ve been with Logan 16 years. Nearly 11 years of marriage. If it takes me a year to learn to say me, instead of we….well it’s just the way it is.

The small things. You don’t realized the small silly things you don’t do, don’t say, don’t watch because of the other person. I’m not saying there is anything wrong with it, when you are in a relationship. It’s the way it should be. Both parties tend to give up certain things, because it makes the other crazy. However, now I am single. Now, I can do those things. I’ll keep sharing as I come up with more.

You can see the first version HERE if you’d like.

1. Why I continue to buy bananas when no one will eat them, since they seemingly turn brown on the way home from the store?

2. Why someone would be shocked to be fired as a bookkeeper when all they did was screw everything up?

3. Why my five year old suddenly believes she needs help to pick up the Littlest Pet Shop Death Traps in her bedroom? I am positive that I do not remember playing with them, nor taking every single one out of the toy box.

4. How I lived 29.8 years without knowing the amazing-ness that is Nutella?

5. Why my son acts like I’m puling out his eyeballs, every single time I cut his fingernails? It’s not like I haven’t done the same thing once a week since he was born, over 16 months ago. Also why he doesn’t seem to mind having his toenails cut.

6. Why people continue to get so grouchy on Twitter when everyone discusses TV shows/Awards Shows or anything, as it is on. If it isn’t on in your time zone at the same time as everyone else, stay off Twitter. That can’t be that hard to figure out. But the same people complain about it over and over and over again.

7. What in the world the coins are for in the new Bejeweled?

8. Why my brownies always end up mushy, no matter how long I cook them, nor if I follow the high altitude directions?