Once a cheater, always a cheater...

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Come on now...what'd you THINK this post was about??

My Legacy?

I have a love/hate relationship with summer. I love summer because I love sunshine, and long hours of daylight. I love the pool, I love getting a tan, I love FlavorIce popsicles, iced coffee and weekend trips. I hate summer because Logan is gone, and it leaves me endless hours to think and be still. And thinking and being still generally translates into a loneliness that hits you deep from inside and makes your heart physically hurt. I spend a lot of time feeling sad and generally hopeless and guilty about the role I've played in this unusual and abnormal childhood that Logan has no choice but to participate in. I'm reading a book given to me by my Pastor's wife, called My Single Mom Life. So far, I haven't been able to read through a single page without the tears blurring my vision. It's so therapeutic to read words that I myself could have written and to know that there is indeed another Mom out there that knows exactly what I feel and have felt.

In the book, the author (Angela Thomas in case you're interested) quotes Donald Miller (author of Blue Like Jazz and To Own a Dragon). Donald Miller was raised by a single mother, and I picked up his To Own a Dragon book once to see what the child of a single mother would have to say. I got a chapter or two in before I had to put it away. It was too painful to read, knowing that his thoughts and feelings would one day be Logan's. The passage that Angela quoted is the following, "She mothered herself into exhaustion. Weekdays, Mom would work late, often coming home right around our bedtime, and even then we were all too tired to act like a family. I knew, somehow, that my mother's long working hours were because of my sister and me. But I never thought to ascribe my mother's emotional and physical exhaustion to the lack of a husband and father, rather, I ascribed it to my existence. There were times, I confess, I wondered if my family would be better off without me. I grew up believing that if I had never been born, things would be easier for the people I loved."

Talk about knocking the wind out of a person. I don't think I took a breath for a solid minute. I can't stop thinking about it. I can't stop wondering if Logan will someday feel this. I have often heard the phrase, "Live in the moment". I know, without even thinking about it, that I don't. I don't live in the moment at all. I haven't warranted myself that luxury. My mind is running a hundred miles an hour planning, plotting, budgeting, concocting, worrying, crying out to God for relief. I know I'm the Mom who absentmindedly mumbles while Logan excitedly tells me about reaching the next level on a video game, or tells me about his favorite race car. This is not the Mom I want to be. I want to listen, even if I don't understand or relate to a single word said. I want to stare at his beautiful face, really SEE those little dimples and HEAR everything. I want to internalize it, I want to ask questions, I want to learn about what he loves. But I can't, because I'm trying to figure out how to stretch my paycheck so the groceries are bought, the power bill is paid and old shoes can be replaced. It's so exhausting.

I want to be able to trust that God will provide for us daily. That maybe I don't know where next week's groceries are coming from, but to be content in what I have today. I have failed at this miserably. I can't do it. I have absolutely no idea HOW to do it, when there is a child totally dependent on me to take care of him. Worry has become my middle name. It is my modus operandi. And just when I think surely the stress can't get anymore - that relief must be coming in some form, it doesn't. It gets worse. I'm not exaggerating, it truly does. My friend Rachel was so kindly allowing me to vent yesterday about my anger with God. How I have lived for 10 years with this unbearable amount of stress. How I would love for some of that to go away. I'm not asking for the nicest car or newest house. I don't care about fancy jewelry or expensive manicures. But gosh, would it be nice to have someone else to take out the garbage. Or to remember to pay the water bill. How it would be nice just not to be so darn exhausted every second of every day. She told me it would be helpful if I started keeping a list of my blessings. I thought about this. And you know what I said? (CONE OF SAFETY HERE, PLEASE) I want some fun blessings. I do. I know that's selfish and juvenille and not at all what I SHOULD say...but it's true. Yes I am blessed to be able to feed and clothe my child. I'm blessed we have a house to live in. I'm blessed to have a vehicle that drives me to work and back. But some fun blessings sprinkled in there would be a welcome addition. I'd love to be able to take a vacation. A real, honest to goodness stay in a hotel and sit on the beach vacation. Or maybe have a 4 door car. (Look, it's a pain to drive a 2 door and have a child) It'd be nice to just once pay full price for something, and not wait until it goes on 75% off clearance. It'd be wonderful to sleep in ONE day. How does a person rejuvinate themselves to the point they can BE in the moment, when it's all they can do to simply put one foot in front of the other? These are selfish expectations and they are things I have no right wanting or demanding from God. I recognize this. But I want more for my life, and I want more for my son. I want time with him before it's too late. I want to be able to attend his field days and pj parties at school. I want to spend a weekend on vacation with him somewhere, making memories he will never forget.

I am worried about the legacy I am leaving for my child. The legacy of a Mom who is absent and tired and constantly stressed. A Mom who can never, ever throw caution to the wind and be spontaneous. I know I am not the only person out there who feels this. I know there are married people who surely feel similar. What struck me last night, after reading Don Miller's words was that something had to change. Right now, right here, I have to start chipping away at my life and becoming a better Mother. One who is not constantly reactive, but proactive and one that has time and energy for her son.

6 of the scariest words ever...

-Please-

-Enter-

-Your-

-Billing-

-Zip-

-Code-

Ok, seriously? My billing zip code? Apparently automated phone system robotic voice man/woman does not understand my LIFE ADD issues, OR the fact that I change cities/banks/jobs/addresses constantly. Remembering a billing zip code for an account I set up makes me panic. Is it my Orlando zip? The Charlotte one? If Charlotte, WHICH zip code? There are several!

Too much stress.

I get by with a little help from my friends...

I'm pretty sure there is nothing better than a Saturday morning that includes Land of a Thousand Hills coffee. It is my new favorite coffee - at approximately $11 a bag, it better be amazing. (It is)

http://www.landof1000hills.com/

Anyway - I've neglected my blogging the last few weeks. I really haven't had anything exciting or important to share - and honestly, I'm not sure I do today either. We are about 6 days from the annual trip to Vermont where I fly with Logan to drop him off with his Dad for the entire summer. This time of year is always met with bittersweet emotion. It is with great anxiety and panic that I send my child to live for 3 months 900 and something miles away from me. I am entrusting his care and well being to a man I don't even know that well anymore and it's a strange and sad feeling. On the other hand, Logan loves spending his summers in Vermont with his grandparents and cousins on his Dad's side, and always has a blast. He comes back full of smiles and stories - and if this year is anything like last, a mohawk. :) Plus, it does give me some time to recharge my batteries, enjoy a little freedom to hang out with friends, take weekend road trips or even run to the grocery store in the middle of the night if I feel like it.

It is bizarre to me that in the fall, my little Beaner will be entering 3rd grade. I vividly remember the first sonogram I had, at about 7 weeks pregnant...seeing that tiny little Bean like thing on the screen was mind boggling, scary and a little bit crazy. And now he's this tall, lanky, smiley thing with a love of skateboards and video games and I can't figure out how we got this far. This past year has been a year of startling discovery about myself, about God and about life. I've been seeing a counselor for probably about a year now, and there has been a lot of good advice he's shared with me. During one session, I was expressing my frustration with relationships - of all kinds, not just the romantic. I was aggravated over something that had happened with a friend and he told me that in order to develop true and genuine relationships with people, you have to accept and understand that people will hurt you. That letting people in means ultimately, something will go wrong at some point. It's not that people are BAD by nature, but everyone makes mistakes. I thought about this for a long time and I realized he was very right. I have kept so many people at a safe distance because I am so tired of being used and trampled on. But in the process, I have cut myself off from the possibility of knowing true intimacy on all levels (again, not just the romantic :D )

I have worked really hard at forgiving, and at trusting. And you know, a crazy thing has happened. I've been floored on an almost daily basis at the friendships I am fortunate enough to participate in. Friends that will drop everything to help. People who will give of their time, energy and resources if I need it. People who genuinely want what's best for me and are willing to get messy and involved in my life to help me better myself. I've discovered that there are people out there that don't think I'm a loser because I'm a single Mom or think I'm a failure because of where I'm at in life. I have discovered people who are open to helping me, to loving on my son, to offer advice and encouragement or just an ear for listening when I'm defeated and exhausted.

I wish I could list them all here, but for fear of forgetting someone, I won't. I just pray that you know who you are, that you know the extent of my gratitude and understand what joy and comfort you all have brought into my life. In moments of my darkest and deepest despair, many of you have lifted me up without even knowing it. So thank you dear friends, for your unwavering support and unconditional love.

Blame It On The Rain

It's eerily silent in my house - child playing quietly in his room, puppy curled up next to me on the couch sleeping. All I can hear is the rain outside, and it's making me think.

Seriously, what's with me and all this thinking?

You know, last week when I watched the Grey's Anatomy season finale I was really mad that I was single. No, not because the whole episode was about just letting go of fear and telling people that you love them. No, not because people were getting hurt and dying. But because when the most shocking thing I've seen happen on a TV show occurred, THERE WAS NO ONE AROUND TO GASP IN HORROR WITH ME. No fun, gasping in horror alone in your living room. In fact, you kind of feel like an idiot.

One other thing I thought of this week that makes me mad I'm single.

I have to kill all the bugs. I mean, that's not even fair. I hate bugs. Bugs are to be killed by big, strong men. And all you girl power feminists out there can just shut it. Because bugs are gross and crawly and slimy and they scurry and I'm just tired of killing them. On a more positive note, Raid now makes an ant killer that smells like Lemon Pledge. No lie. Wonder what kind of toxic chemicals now fill the air, innocently masked in a luscious citrus scent?

I guess what I'm trying to say is, when I start dating again I'm hoping to find a Grey's Anatomy loving, super bug killing guy to spend my days with. I am pretty sure this is not going to be difficult to find ;)

PS - thank you to all my friends, who wholeheartedly assure me that I am not (yet) a cougar!

Reason No. 4389210 I love my child...

This letter was in my mailbox, actually addressed to me in a strange looking envelope with writing I didn't quiiiite recognize. Not only that, but the letter had the wrong house number and zip code. First I thought it might be some kind of ransom letter or something :) Then I thought the writing did look a little like Logan's. So I opened it up, and read the following sweet message:

Sometimes, being a Mom is basically the best thing ever. :)

Goulash Musings

• 2 weeks ago, I was given a homework assignment. And I did it that very night! So proud. Where was this motivation when I was being graded?? This was more of a life will be better for you if you do this homework assignment. BIG thanks to my counselor who assigned me the dreaded task that I have been avoiding for months. (even if he keeps assigning me homework tasks that I loathe). Also big thanks to my friend Rachel who I confided in and forced to walk me through the entire process step by baby step. :) And since then, it's honestly like I can see clearly (cue bad rendition of I Can See Clearly Now).
• 30 and I are fighting. I'm just angry with 30, really. Because 30 didn't ask my permission to take away the ability of fitting into my favorite jeans. And 30 did not tell me that I would be ready for bed by 8pm. 30 didn't tell me that suddenly, I will need to drink a gallon of water after ONE slice of stupid pizza. And 30 ALSO forgot to inform me that it's not nearly as fun to say as 25. So for those reasons (and SO many more...)we are fighting.
• I'm not giving up my Diet Dr. Pepper. I don't care what you say.
• It has taken me 8 months and 5 days to return to what is pretty close to my natural hair color after a wild and occasionally bumpy ride to brunette-hood. It's nice to be back to myself. I'm going to try really hard to never take my natural blonde coloring for granted again. Buuuut...I can't promise much.
• I've been super struggling with the concept of talent. I'll pretty much corner anyone who will listen and demand the answer to why God would give me the ability to sing decently but not give me the ability to sing like Brooke Fraser. Listen HERE . I mean, what a rip off, right? Last week I had this kind of revelation that smacks you in the face. And it was basically that I'm here for one purpose, and one only and that's to praise and worship God. And I can be tone deaf and still do that - so my ability and level of talent is not what matters. What matters is that I do it.
• Truth be told, I miss my puppy's cute little face while I'm at work. Then I get home and she chews something up or pees on my floor and I want to string her upside down from her cute little puppy paws.
• I am still staring at a guitar my parents gave me for Christmas. I haven't even picked it up once to tune it. And that makes me mad at myself, because I have wanted to learn how to play for years.
• I started to get sucked into a super bad reality show last night called The Jersey Shore. Halfway through, I wondered why I was fighting sleep to watch a few trashy chicks throw back tequila shots like water. So I shut it off and went to bed. I triumph over you, reality show land!
• I have about 42 'million dollar ideas' floating around inside my head. Coming up with concepts is easy for me. Following through on them is definitely not my forte. Probably because most of them result from a day spent with my head in the clouds.
• Logan goes to Vermont in exactly one month. Ok, maybe a month and 2 days or so. I can't believe the year has passed, and summer has rolled around again. What am I going to do with all my free time this summer? Scary thought! I have all kinds of hopes and dreams of productivity. We shall see :)