So it's been a hot minute, again. The people who have followed along thus far & periodically reached out (even though we're only connected virtually) to check in on us & let me know you're looking forward to future posts - thank you. Feeling seen is so restorative these days after feeling so unseen by him the last few years. I poured out so much into this blog and then sort of hit a wall. All of the sudden, the last few years were just there - in black and white, staring me in the face. This was all real. This isn't some nightmare from which I will awake into a normal marriage and life. Right as I begin to sit with all of this and try to begin working through it, another curveball came through. As mentioned in my last post, I found myself having to pack up both my house & my business and move to a new house & a temp space for the studio within about a 10-day window of time. Honestly, it doesn't feel like it has let up since. There just hasn't been a chance to catch my breath. Every minute the kids aren't with me, I'm working. His weekends mean that I either have picked up a wedding (planning) for one of his weekends or teach all the classes that weekend. I wish it just felt like I was treading water, but we aren't there yet. Drowning feels a lot more accurate.
As the trauma numbness wears off, I'm both grateful that I was somewhat shut down at the time, but as the actual reality of the events & how incessantly insane it has all been truly settles in...honestly, some days I feel like I can't fully breathe. It's a lot - too much, most days. I'm working more & harder than I ever have in my life, and I don't know if I will ever be able to get caught up, much less ahead. Paycheck to paycheck would be an understatement. I was always of the mindset that if you put in hard work and treat people right, well at the very least it shouldn't be quite so heavy. I smile and try to stay steady for the kids, absorb their big feelings and assure them things will feel better. I hope I'm right. I pray I'm right. I never realized how truly exhausting faith can be. I keep hoping for some sort of mini-miracle around the corner. Each time I think there may be one, something shifts. At one point, I thought I would receive a decent tax rebate as he hadn't filed ours for a few years (shocker). Instead, I'm told that it all went back to the IRS because I apparently owed money years back (he always handled that side of things). Poof. Just like that - the hope for a little peace of mind was gone. We weren't going to be going on a big vacation & set up to coast or anything, but at the least we would have a little something so that I wasn't always behind. Other times of hope have come along, and every time it falls apart. I'm now a regular at the local plasma donation center - embarrassing to type/admit, but it's regular money that covers some gas or food.
Now, Christmas is coming. Is there a single gift under our tree? Nope. I've planned what I wanted to do for the kids & felt it was pretty reasonable. A practice putting green thing for my son - he's gone golfing with his dad and I thought it could help him focus on something when he's frustrated or having his more emotionally-charged moments. For the girls, I wanted a little outdoor playhouse in the backyard for them to share. I had one growing up & loved it. I found a really cute one online that was a decent price (right around $200) and would arrive in plenty of time. I knew I couldn't get it right away, but when I went to check a few days later it was completely sold out. Now I either have to come up with something else or find the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow for another one. I don't want lots of "stuff"-type things in the house, and this accomplished several goals - keep them outside (for both gifts), cooperative play, creative play, nothing that makes obnoxious noises - game on. But apparently not. I wasn't trying to do Pinterest-worthy stockings - it was literally going to be underwear, socks, etc.
Feeling worthy is difficult when you can't make Christmas happen for your kids. I had a client remind me a month or two ago that I am literally my livelihood - I can't very well teach 20-25 classes a week, not prioritize myself, and expect that to be sustainable. But you know what? It's really flippin expensive to do that. Doing what I can, where I can, but I certainly have my fair share of "no it's fine - Mama's not hungry tonight" dinners where their little appetites exceed what I expected & the groceries have to last. I've been helping other locals moms who have posted on social about similar situations (financial situations - not being married to Voldemort) however I'm able (donating items, etc) & am fully aware that the kids and I have been incredibly blessed along the way. Still, the reality is that my hope, my patience, my sanity, and my faith feel razor-thin these days. Lately, both girls have ended up in my bed every night. I don't know what has prompted it, but it turns out that being kicked repeatedly in the neck, ear, and kidney doesn't leave you feeling well-rested. I keep hearing and telling myself that it will get better (it has to, right?), but getting to that point is just getting harder.
Because there is still kindness in the world, people ask & I will share some links at the end of this post that will help us. I share these with the absolute understanding that there is no expectation, but I've also been learning to accept offers of help.
Ok, I'm pretty sure y'all weren't hoping to just read a bunch of depressing stuff, so let's share what I thought was one of my wittier moments in the midst of all this chaos.
Summer of 2023 - we moved across the bay. It cut my daily time in the car with school/daycare/work shuttling from easily 4-6 hours to about 1 hour a day. We found a house close to everything with an attached cottage with the sweetest college-aged tenant who almost instantly became like a big sister to the kids. As we got settled, I quickly learned I can assemble adult-sized beds by myself (mine & my middle's) and move an entire sofa from our front porch into our living room. My mom & family & friends jumped in as they were able, and it started to feel like a home.
I was so excited for some physical separation from him. He would still have his weekends with the kids, of course, but I needed to be somewhere that wasn't something familiar on every corner. The house we found was historic, lots of character, and clearly needed a cat to add to the chaos. Growing up, we always had all the pets: dogs, cats, hamsters, fish, horses - bring it on. As a result, I always wanted my kids to grow up with animals as well. They provide kids (& adults) such unwavering acceptance. If someone was mean at school, few things beat your pup curled up at your feet, content to be in your presence. He always hated cats & said we would never have one, but my son had asked for one for years. Once we had permission (yes, had to make sure it was approved legally although his moves behind my back were fine) to mvoe, I knew we would get a cat. My mom was of course fully supportive as she was the reason we always had animals growing up. She spoke with her vet who knew of a nearby shelter that had lost its funding & needed to place several older kittens. They picked the snuggliest one from the bunch, and Mom picked her up. We planned that I would meet her halfway (a little over an hour from our house) for the handoff.
Sidestep: I recalled reading in all of their text messages a particular disagreement over another employee at the restaurant where they worked. This employee was the same age as she was & interested in her (perfectly reasonable - high school students tend to date other high school students). Apparently this interaction made him so jealous that he would cut the kid's hours, not let him pick up shifts when she worked, etc. Naturally, this provided the perfect opportunity to name our new pet.
I brought her home to one of the sweetest reactions ever.
"Can we keep her forever??" my son asked asked as soon as they saw her. Looks like we all needed reassurance that the ones we love won’t leave.
Once we got her settled, the kids naturally wanted to call their dad & tell him they got a cat. I obliged and they FaceTimed him:
Kids:"Dad! Dad! Dad! Mom got us a CAT!"
Him:"Oh, really." (fairly monotone in his response).
Kids: "YES!! Dad! This is ______ (insert the name of said teenage employee of whom he had previously appeared quite jealous)".
As a big fan of The Office, I could swear this was his face:
I nearly wet my pants & had to run out of the room. I've had very few moments in all of this that have felt like "wins", but this one definitely makes the top of the list. Take your wins where you can get them.
I plan to continue to reflect on a year prior & compare to present day as our journey continues. I'm blown away & humbled continually by how many have taken an interest & support the kids & me along the way. For now, I will continue to put one foot in front of the other, hang out with my plasma buddies (10/10 recommend for excellent people watching), and try every day to strengthen was often feels like dwindling hope.
Walking out of the front door of our new place, I realize that I rarely felt hopeful or optimistic leaving the first house in the morning. Granted, the optimism is wrought with caution…and not there consistently, by any means. But it’s there. The uncertainty, the stress - it’s still there. It will be for a while, I would imagine. I will never know what part for certain in the sixteen years of our relationship was ever genuine, so I have no shame whatsoever in saying that trust issues will likely be my backseat driver for the foreseeable future. I have hope, but suffice it to say my faith has been repeatedly challenged. Thankfully, I’m aware and can at least try to navigate it. I cannot completely trust that “it will all be for the best in the end” and everything else I tell myself and others tell me…but I sure as hell am going to keep telling myself this until I can trust.
To be honest, and I FULLY know that everyone has hard times and am ABSOLUTELY grateful for the blessings I do have in my life, but after a while I begin to feel like those creepy weighted clown balloons that every time you punch it, it gets knocked down but rebounds - still smiling, no less. It still sucks.
I’m beginning to feel like the mother I wanted to be four years ago. COVID, getting the studio, pregnant with Em, life implodes - emotionally, financially, mentally shut out of my marriage for over a year, traumatic birth story, full-on alienation from my partner of over a decade and a half… it delayed my plans for sure. This was not the path I envisioned to get here, and I will be damned if our story stops here. God knew I would fight to remain faithful in my marriage and give every ounce of myself. There needed to be irrefutable evidence that the marriage I thought I had did not exist and this was not the person who would be beside me as I realized my complete self. God knew that my constant self-doubt would forever haunt me if there were any space for hesitation to leave, split our family dynamic and be on my own, so He cleared a path that every question I had that needed an answer got one.
Being able to plug back into the studio has been such a saving grace. I hope to be able to pay myself in the next few months. We've have some good momentum, the space feels so very right, and we've added & will continue to add team members with exactly the positive energy to take us to the next step. This place feeds my heart in a way that no other job or endeavor ever has, and I'm able to give a bit more of myself to it every day. I really do think it can be a place of growth, healing, and restoration for the clients as it is for me.
I’m hopeful to feel excited again. I know I’ve never given my kids a reason to doubt my love, my dependability, and my unwavering commitment to them…and that was while I was shattered. As I begin to piece myself back together, I’m already proud of the mother I can be to them once I’m whole. I pray a day will come that the heavy weight of the daily demands we place on ourselves will lighten. That every bath time won’t include a few minutes of Mom Math to mentally assess the next few days: how stocked is the fridge, how full is my gas tank, need to pay daycare, and honestly it’s usually a day at a time
I'm working to feel worthy and deserving - not necessarily of things, but just showing myself love. I had hoped at one point to get new bedding for myself (my room seems more community space than individual, so it's taken a beating) for Christmas, and my son said he was going to ask Santa for something for me under the tree, but none of that looks likely. The kids will be with him this year until the afternoon on Christmas Day, and I'm doing my best not to dwell on that too much. Thankfully, my mom will come down so I'm looking forward to time with just our own schedule to handle. The kids & I had this weekend together and then they'll leave Thursday until they come back on Christmas. Initially I hoped to do some of the Christmas activities in town, but those all add up quickly & honestly get to be overwhelming solo. I hate that they always get the exhausted, stressed out mom. Their dad takes them to do things, and I like to think if I had a week or two of uninterrupted sleep and none of the day to day wear and tear on the house that our weekends would be more fun. We baked & decorated cookies last night & are about to leave to drive around and look at Christmas lights and drink hot cocoa. They're excited about it & had a lot of fun last night, and it's what I can manage - financially, mentally, emotionally, physically, logistically. And that will have to be enough.
The kids' Amazon lists:
GFM:
MAKE Wellness (a line of bioactive peptides that a friend has introduced to me; my initial effort to do something for my well-being, and it has made a very noticeable difference (not just a number on the scale) right away if anyone is interested:
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