9 months later

A week ago when we were at our Saturday place for cinnamon buns (a local artisan bakery which we love), I saw a photo on the wall that came from the next door art store. It is of a bit of a dark 'spot' in the trees. Like a quiet place one might find to go and sit. Rays of sunshine are making their way through the branches to light to it a little at a time. I fell in love with it. I've never felt a connection with a photo the way I do with that one. It was on my mind the moment we walked in the store. To say it spoke to me sounds cheesy but that is absolutely true. I felt deep down that I needed to have it. It was $175. I didn't have the money for it but I couldn't take the risk of it disappearing.

I went next door and spoke with the store owner. I told her something was drawing me to that picture and that I wanted it but I didn't have the money right. She told me for $5 down, it is mine and I can pay as I can until I reach the total. No time limit. "You should have an emotional experience when you buy a piece of art."

I nearly cried. I had no worries about committing to the price. (That was quite surprising in itself!) She let me take a small sold sign to place on the picture and I couldn't have been happier. Something in that picture speaks a truth to me that I am only beginning to understand.

I got home and was glancing through Facebook. Sweet One said she wanted to see "that picture". I pulled up my profile picture, saw my father holding me at about 1 year old and both of us completely covered in diaper cream. I looked at the date in the lower right corner of my computer. 9 months ago today he died.

So much is churning inside of me. One thing is somehow connected to the next. I'm singing again, I'm finding beauty in things I see. But most of all, I'm learning to trust my inner voice.

Starting 35

Yesterday was my 35th birthday. I wasn't looking forward to it. I was stuck in a funk for too much of the day. Thirty was exciting because I was looking forward to getting pregnant (and strangely enough I ovulated on my birthday and had a positive test a few weeks later!) and I saw so much ahead of me. But with 35, I'm done having babies and I really don't know what is ahead. I've been working through so much over the past 9 months and sometimes I have moments of peace but there are a lot more moments when I feel like I have no clue.

Yesterday morning I ventured out into the rain to go for my run. It's been rough getting back to running since the snow has melted, dealing with a hip injury, and I really wanted a good one. When I got to the trail the rain stopped. The run felt ok. Near the end the sun peaked out for two songs. It was the first time I was actually hearing the lyrics in a particular song and this is what I heard:

You've gotta learn to let things go
Start living without fear
Be willing to fall down, there's so much love here
Believe in what you feel
Relax and know that love, will set you free my dear

Jann Ardne's lyrics spoke to so much of what I'm working through right now. I couldn't ignore it. Then when it was over, the clouds covered up the sun and I didn't see it again for the rest of the day.

Today I started singing while I was washing the floors.  It felt somewhat free and easy. I had no choice but to run upstairs and see if I was close to the appropriate key or if it would be higher and therefore much harder to sing. But it wasn't. I was only a semitone off. I phone a friend of mine who just lost her father and asked her if they would like me to sing at the funeral. She started crying and said they would love it. After 4 years of not singing, I'm jumping in with both feet and it feels good. Terrifying and exciting, but completely right.

I got an email today from the director of Residence Life at the school I did my undergrad at. He told me of how he had been thinking of me and a solo I sang a long time ago. The title of the song was "Behold! I make all things new". His son had lost his wife unexpectedly (neither of them would even be 30) shortly after my Dad died and has found a new love. Some beauty after a hard time. I don't usually get emails from this man but to get one today with all those words, well, I can't help but wonder.

I really don't know what is ahead of me but I'm going to try to stay open to what is around me and learn what I can. It could be quite good!

Birthday Surprises

Sweet One had an amazing time at her birthday party. The cake didn't fall on the floor like last year, she and her friends had fun running around and playing in the church's gym, she got spoiled with an official Disney Tangled dress complete with a braided headband, an official Tinkerbell dress (which she is wearing as she watches Secret of the Wings which her uncle gave her) and more things that she is loving. Today is her actual birthday and so we had a special waffles and strawberries breakfast and some more gift opening. Yesterday we opened just the ones from friends at the party and today I'm trying to spread them out throughout the day! We'll end with dinner at Wendy's and home for more cake and ice cream.

Along with all of Sweet One's surprises, I got my own today. I had just finished working out in the attic and decided to look for my diamond a bit. The whole time I thought I was wasting my time but I checked one more spot and there it was, sitting on a floorboard, shining a wee bit! It's been a very good day!

Lessons on a 5k

I managed to finish the Couch to 5k and it feels great. I've now had four runs since I officially finished it and all I keep wondering to myself is how much I might be able to accomplish if I keep taking care of myself. My stupid ankle bothered me for awhile, then it didn't, then I rolled it during a run and now it is letting me know it's there on a regular basis. But I hope to overcome this. I strengthen and stretch it regularly. I want to keep going because I need to keep going.

I don't feel like I've solved anything on my runs but there are moments when the thoughts and struggles I have have rolled around while I listen to Wicked and In The Heights (because at this point I run to musicals and need a few more in my collection). Tears have been shed during and after but they have all been therapeutic.

At other times I am running with a smile on my face. Proud of myself for doing something I didn't think I'd be able to do. Happy that at that exact moment nothing is hurting and I'm able to push myself a little harder to eventually get to the next stage of all this. I'm not sure what that stage is but maybe in the spring I can work my way up to a 10k and in a few years do a half marathon. I have no idea.

Sometimes the weather concerns me. Considering that I live in an area known for frequency of rain, over the past 12 weeks (one I had to skip due to illness) I've only ran in the rain once. Yesterday I thought would be day two in the rain. It took me awhile to get out there because I was worried about what weatherdotcom was saying about wind and rain. We're at the end of Sandy's path but I haven't heard destruction reports for our little town. (The only thing that woke me up last night was Little Man and a fever.) The rain held off except for a few sprinkles here and there until I was completely done my run. What was I so afraid of? Anxiety is one thing I need to learn to let go of.

I have a lot of work to do until I get to the place I want to be: to love myself. Maybe this running is a first step. I'm learning to be proud of this accomplishment, trying very hard to turn off the voices in my head and listen to the only one that matters, and trying to accept that where I am is good enough. I'm also letting go of negative thoughts here and there. When I worry about my ankle or my knees I listen to my body, try to change my stride so they don't hurt and then keep going. I toss the worry aside and find a way of moving on.

I look forward to each new run. Just me and the asphalt trail each morning. Sometimes I get to watch part of the sunrise which is always an added bonus. Little Man doesn't cry every time I leave and Sweet One always understands that Mum-mum needs her jog to feel better. After I'm done using her yoga mat for my pre-run stretches she asks if she can do her exercises (a kid's yoga video) and so we're both taking some time to care for ourselves. It's an important thing I need to teach her. And it is important for me to not feel guilty about taking this time for myself. I'm getting better at it.

Survival

A quote from this post has been working on me. I only started reading this blog a few weeks ago hoping to find some creative inspiration. But after reading it this morning, I feel like I have shed a little light on where I am stuck right now and can now has a little more compassion for myself and to, hopefully, work through it.

"Most women I know have only one conscious priority: making it through the day. This is a direct result of having been torn in a thousand different directions in any one twenty four hour period ... but acknowledging, recognizing and reordering our priorities so they can give purpose to our days is a deeply personal task that we all must do..."

My children are keeping me alive these days. I wake up solely because they need me to care for them. I eat and prepare meals because they need to eat. I enjoy the outdoors because they need the fresh air. (So do I. It does wonders for all of us.) I'm back here in this place I equally hate and dread. The dark cloud is nagging at me, exhausting me. If I had more energy I might be pissed off about it but I'm just sad. (Fukking dysthymia.) I have nothing for anyone anything unless they rely on me for their daily survival. At the end of the day, all I can do is lie on the couch and watch some of my favorite shows before it is time for bed.

Perhaps this is all amplified by Big Love's absence and having sick kids to care for during that time, or maybe it is because I have been completely wiped out by my own sinus cold/cough/sore throat. I haven't felt this sick in a very long time. I haven't exercised in over a week because I've been trying to rest as much as I can in the morning.

Thank God for my kids. For so many reasons. At this exact moment I am thankful for the look on Little Man's face as he figures out how to walk. Such pride and elation! Sweet One is constantly amazing me by finding new pathways into her world of imagination. I don't think I'd smile or laugh each day if it weren't for all of these magical moments the kids show me. And that is how they are keeping me alive.

Five days of single parenting

Last Thursday, Big Love took off for four nights to do his study leave. (He gets 2 weeks of study leave a year but only uses one because his budget barely covers that when used very carefully.) I stayed home with the kids. Alone. At first I was scared but then I ended up having some moments of feeling very proud of myself.

I found myself being patient for the day to pass by. How many times I've looked at the clock with dismay as I realize there another hour or two until Big Love gets home from work. But I didn't do that. After dropping Big Love off at the airport Thursday morning, we got home, the kids napped and then we took off to go for a special walk on a local bike path. Sweet One is doing amazing riding her bike.

Friday went well until it was 330 and we were getting Sweet One ready for her dance class. It was time to put ponytails in her hair and she lost it. Biggest. Tantrum. Ever. How does a three year old learn to slam doors? It was insane and I felt beat up from it for a long time. We got to dance class a few minutes late after walking with Sweet One riding her bike. I was the mother constantly getting after her to hurry up. Trying to impress that we were going to be late because of her behavior. She's too young for that, really, but I still tried. The door was closed when we got there and at first I let her think she might not get in. She was upset but then we knocked on the door and the teacher let us in and I was finally allowed to put ponytails in her hair! I don't remember how the rest of the day went. I just know the glass of wine once the kiddos were sleeping was a welcome visitor.

Saturday was a good day. Rainy and drizzly but good. Sweet One started telling me her mouth hurts but then I managed to help her figure out that it was actually her throat. We went to Sweet One's surrogate grandma's house for a visit where it became very apparent that Sweet One was a little out of sorts about her dad being gone. We made it through the rest of the day and enjoyed some chocolate cupcakes which brought  up her spirits. By the end of the day, I felt really good about how the day went and wasn't feeling completely wasted by the end of the day.

Sunday morning Sweet One woke up with a cold and Little Man woke up with another fever. The day was hard. Despite being continually medicate, Little Man's fever sat around 102 the entire day. He needed to be held A LOT. We played outside with our friends but Little Man just wasn't feeling well. Sweet One had her moments as well. By the end of the day, I felt wasted. I started hoping desperately for a decent night's sleep because I hadn't had any over the previous chunk of days.

Monday morning Sweet One was a little better but Little Man was not. We got through the morning and the naps before we loaded up the car to go and get Big Love. I had to do a few errands before picking him up and so we stopped at two big box store. There was a strong wind and when we got from the car to the store and Little Man was in a cart, he started shivering. I was worrying. At the second store, his head was so hot and he could barely sit up straight because he was so tired. I hated it. I felt like a terrible mother that I couldn't just keep him at home but luckily our shopping took less than an hour.

Sweet One yelled, "Daddy!" and ran to him the moment she saw him. When he sat down I started to relax. I no longer felt like it was all on me to care for the kids and that felt great. My kids are not accustomed to a parent being away at all and so it was hard. Had they not gotten sick, it would have been much easier.

Big Love didn't go to work the next day but I sure felt strange. After such an intense 5 days, my body was crashing. I'm now onto my third day of being sick and I'm hoping it won't last much longer. With two kids, I can't actually find any time to nap or rest during the day so it's hard to plug along. I would love to have a chunk of time to just be by myself but it isn't going to happen any time soon.

(And one little bitch. Big Love got to go to New York City two times on his study leave. Once upon a time my sister asked me if I wanted to go there with her and when I checked with him he seriously whined, "you'd go without me?" On his behalf, we were newly weds. But how times have changed! My bucket list has a visit to NYC on there. I've wanted to go for a very long time.)

People who have to single parent on a regular basis are my new heroes! My hope for every single parent would be that they have a support network so they can have a little time to themselves now and again.

Sunday is Little Man's 1st Birthday! I can't believe it is here so quickly. We're going to have some people over and I'm going to prepare a little bit of food (previously I've always prepared too much). It should be a nice afternoon. Hopefully the weather will cooperate and the kids can play outside because I can't imagine 7 kids and 10 adults in our house. It might get a little crazy!

Sometimes you just have to back off!

I've been wracking my brain trying to find something that would strongly motivate her to poop in the potty or to just trust what others have been telling me, that she'll figure it out when she's ready. I'm not very patient and I just wanted this stage of things over and done with. But my attempts to persuade her turned me into a rabid asshole and were also unsuccessful.

I just didn't understand why she wouldn't do it. She knew when to tell her poop to return whence it came and she was completely capable of running to a hiding spot and taking care of business.

As pretty much every other day, we were across the street playing at our friend's house. Grabbing at her butt once in awhile, we asked Sweet One if she wanted to go home and poop in the potty. "No, thank you!" she tell us in the most cheerful of voices. (If there's anytime good manners can grate on ones nerves, it is this!) A few moments later she is beelining it to get underneath the slide in time. Her favorite place. And just as quickly as she disappeared, she returned requesting a bum change.

And what's a little salt in the wound? She repeated her performance about twenty minutes later!

My friend suggested that I back off completely for a few weeks. No prompting and no encouraging. Just let her be. With only my sanity at stake, I wondered if it was just what we needed.

Every day we'd go without a poop, I'd get more anxious about dealing with it later on. Every time she'd show signs of needing to go, I'd be stressed out and disappointed before I even asked her to sit on the potty. Something did need to change. And indeed it did when I least expected it.

Big Love didn't return her to training pants after the second bum change and so Sweet One was hanging out with a bare bum. She started grabbing at it a bit like before and the only thing I did was make her wash her hands. My chest was getting tighter wondering how things were going to play out, but I made myself keep my trap shut.

Little Man and I were in the living room, Big Love was doing dishes and Sweet One was doing her own things. I'm not sure what it was. The next thing I knew, Sweet One announced, "I did it! I pooped in the potty!" I wasn't sure what to think and as I ran to the bathroom to see what was going on, I was also looking on the floor to make sure I didn't step in any droppings. But sure enough, there was poop in that there potty!

My daughter pooped on the potty with no prompting from anyone. It was her decision and her very own accomplishment. I didn't really have anything to do with it and I think it is better this way!

Now if you'll excuse me, there are no cold beer in the house and so I'm going to watch Terra Nova instead. (And I promise that I will not type the word poop in this here blog for awhile.)

Speechless

Tonight, Little Man went down without a sound, save for a few grunts. It took him 8 minutes to fall asleep. I'm amazed and speechless!

Potty talk

Potty training is in full swing and I am so proud of my little girl.

So many people told me to wait until she was ready and not try to get her going earlier. Well, I tried earlier and it was awful.

Then I waited.

I cried when I had nasty diapers to change because it seemed they always happened when I was dead tired and had a screaming baby.

A few days ago she decides she's going to earn the lollipop and pees all on her own. "I did it! I peed in the potty!"

That was three and a half days ago. Many lollipops have been eaten, as well as other 'surprises' earned from the prize box. Sometimes she gets mad because she wants another prize but has peed too recently. "Potty is not working!"

Today ended with a 'big poop' (according to Big Love) in the potty right before bed, uncoached by either one of us.

I could not be more proud of my little girl. I could not be more relieved that it is going so well. Now if only we can make sure her teeth don't fall out from all the lollipops!

I stopped "should"-ing on myself and it feels great!

Yesterday I hit my wall. I spent my spare time working on a blazer made from sweatshirt fleece that I had wanted to get done (McCalls 5714) but it was turning out as if Sweet One had helped me with it. Since moving to this town I've lost my avenues of creative expression. Since it is hard to find time to get out of town for shopping when I need them, I've had high hopes that I could improve my sewing skills to enhance my wardrobe in a way that helps me express myself without breaking the bank. A double bonus would be the creativity it takes just to make the pieces. So far I have failed miserably. Last summer I made a shirt and a pair of shorts which are both unwearable. I really have no clue if this blazer is going to be salvageable. I was very upset by the time I was done sewing yesterday. I packed up my machine. Maybe I need a good book to teach me more about garment sewing. I know I need more time and patience with myself than I have.

I started feeling sick right around supper time last night. Funny that it should line up with hitting the wall! I had been feeling so stressed over the past few days worrying about what I wasn't getting done and how much time I wasn't focussing on Sweet One. All of this was simply not a good combination with less than two weeks before this baby is cut out of me.

I made a decision. Since I got all but the finishing done on the sweater last night, it was time to stop worrying. To give myself as much time to rest as I could and to enjoy the last few days I have with only one child. The house needs a bit more cleaning so that I can feel like I haven't left stupid things all over the place and other than that, I am not taking on anything else that isn't every day necessities. Yesterday around 6:30 I was crying on the couch, snuggling with Sweet One as she watched Super Why? on the computer. At the same time today I was lying on the floor playing with Sweet One. I laughed at how my brain had so much positive energy that I could go for a walk but the muscles in my back were screaming at me to just relax. Quite a difference and all because I decided to let go of a few "shouldas".

Sweet One leads and Mama is relieved

"It seems that they usually lead us to new frontiers instead of us pushing them!" That's what a friend of mine, who has two grown children and two grandchildren of her own, told me after I had shared a story about Sweet One sledding down a hill all by herself. Today Sweet One was ready for another frontier. A few minutes ago Big Love was reading my previous post and almost started laughing.

As often happens, last night's post was gave me the cathartic release I needed to be motivated and get more work done on the switch. I got things out of the purple closet that need to be in other rooms and I got all but the crib and a bookshelf out of the green room.* With the bed rail assembled I decided to just suck it up and get her to nap in her new bed. Perhaps starting with napping for a few days will help her become more comfortable in the new bed. It went alright. We brought Elmo, her water cup and her blanket in from the green room before we read her books. I snuggled up beside her and she fell asleep easily. (I'll try not to bitch about her nap only being an hour leaving her quite moody for the rest of the day!)

This evening Sweet One had her bath while I did a little bit more organizing in her new room. I was a little disappointed to find that the drawers in her mate's bed are smaller than the dresser/changing table but we'll deal with that. Fortunately, the progress made during the afternoon and bath time seemed to bring it all to a point where it really seems like her room. After her bath, she and Big Love left the bathroom while I stayed behind for a moment. When I left, Sweet One had directed Big Love to her new bed where she had decided she'd sleep. I was shocked. Even more surprised when she had Big Love read her her bedtime stories because up until tonight she usually asks him to leave the room when it is story time!

While it did take her longer to settle down than usual, Sweet One has been sleeping in her room for almost two hours. I stayed in there with her until she fell asleep and will slowly work my way out the door to try and avoid any screaming fits. I am completely surprised that after worrying about this transition, Sweet One guided me and let me know that she was going to be ok! (It is almost insane to how often the things I think will be easy are a challenge and those I am worried about go smoothly!) I'm even more relieved that now if she wakes up too early in the morning I'll be able to crawl into bed with her and not have to lie on the floor anymore!

*The purple room is her new room and the green room is her old room.

Mama, One!

I walked into the living room and there was a cracker completely broken up and left on the floor.

You have to pick this cracker up.

Shakes head and continues to point at the tv.

You don't get to watch another Backyardigans until you pick up this cracker and give it to Mama.

Shakes head and squeals a bit, while continuously pointing at the tv and avoiding looking at me.

I will turn on Backyardigans if you pick up your cracker.

This went on for a few more minutes. Then she picked up one piece and threw it on the floor. Not acceptable. I picked her up, sat her down in front of me and the cracker, and she finally picked up all the pieces. It was a little hard, but I won!