I am leaving on a jet plane…

Now that the dust has settled, I know I am more than what I thought I was.  This new found “me” has extraordinary things planned.

My life has settled into a comfortable routine, a knowing that all is going to be ok.  It’s a peace and contentment that has been absent from my world for a while. 

In order to get to this place, I made some very conscious decisions.  I choose to distance myself from the small town gossip network because I didn’t want to allow my spirit to wither away in it all and I really didn’t think I was strong enough to withstand it.  It turns out, I can…and I am still standing with my head held high and my dignity intact.  I choose to write this blog as a way of expressing my anguish, my fear, my anger and my new found joy.  By making this choice I drove myself forward to where I am now and squashed the gossip at the same time.  I choose to make a decision every morning to “let it go” and give myself permission to live, to be myself.  I choose to accept that his decision really had nothing to do with me.  I choose to be happy or not.   

Getting to this place (far from where I want to be, but even farther from where I was) was and is hard…I mean really hard.  But I did it.  I am doing it.

Yes, there is contentment, a peaceful embracing of my new world, but my journey is far from over.

To celebrate this awakening of myself, I am headed on a wee vacation.

In 2 days I will be going on an adventure that will once again redefine who I am.  Maybe in a small way, maybe in a big way.   I will be on a plane, headed for my first trip without my kids.  I am excited, I am sad, I am guilt ridden, I am terrified, I am exhilarated.

This trip is going to challenge me in a lot of ways.  My fear of flying (ok, it’s really a fear of crashing), leaving my kids for 6 days (never done that before), my fear of heights (watch for the terrifying updates from the suspension bridge I will be clinging to) and getting to find out who I am without all the “stuff” that surrounds my day to day life.  There will be laughter and quite possibly some tears.   

I read somewhere once, “Who could you be if you took the limits away?”  I guess the simple answer is:  Just me. 

Must smell good...

It was inevitable.  Once I acknowledged how much time has actually passed since I became “single and fantastic”, I realized it was time to have the “dating” discussion with the kids.

Let’s be honest, I have been dating on and off for the last 6 months, but the kids weren’t aware of it or prepared for it. There is no reason the kids need to know about my dating life, until it matters.   Actually, the only reason we had the discussion is because their dad is openly dating.   I came to the decision that it’s time to start easing them into the idea that is it quite possible that their mom isn’t going to stay permanently wedged on the couch.

Last night, while we were snuggled up in my bed, like we always are, I casually brought up the subject of “dating.”  I was concerned that I was going to be met with resistance, tears and general defiance.

Surprisingly, both kids had pretty specific ideas for me and my dating life and seemed pretty eager to let me in on their opinions.  They must have discussed it previously, because they had been prepared with quite the list of qualities, traits they had in mind for me.  It was actually quite similar to my list I had blogged about way back in November.

http://www.adventuresinfindingme.blogspot.ca/2011/11/list.html

Here is what my kids have in mind for me:

He can’t make you cry.  (Well not to hurt your feelings.  If you cry because he brings you flowers, that’s ok)

He can’t have a face full of piercings.

Tattoos are ok, but not scary ones.

He has to smell good.

He should like board games.

He will let you be yourself and won’t be worried when you want to sit on the grass under a tree and meditate.

He will understand you are magic and not be afraid.

He will have kids so we have someone to play with.  But not a baby because babies are boring.

He should be nice to us because he wants to be and not pretend.

He shouldn’t have another girlfriend.

He shouldn’t text at the dinner table.

He won’t lie.

He can’t be a yeller.

You can’t get married again…ok maybe in 5 years.

He should be silly and fun but responsible.

And finally…my favourite…

His heart should be big and kind.

Those kids really are amazing.

Decisions, decisions...

Change is coming.  I can feel it in the spring breeze that blows through my front window.  A force that is pulling me, telling me it’s time. It will take me in a new direction whether I think I am ready or not.

The idea of new possibilities, new beginnings, new memories makes me giddy but terrifies me at the same time.  I am overwhelmed with the urge to start again, a do-over if you will, but am somewhat fearful that I will make the wrong decisions.  I almost always follow my heart, but this time my head keeps interrupting.  Perhaps because when change comes, it will be permanent.  Permanent is a hard thing to grasp. 

How do you move forward when everywhere you turn in your home is a memory of the past you loved so much?

How do you move forward when everywhere you turn in your home is a memory of the falling apart?  The echos of a marriage falling apart seemly trapped within these walls.

A home now filled with heaviness and regrets and wishes that will always be just out of reach.  No, we just can’t stay.  Can we?

My thoughts are consumed with a new space, one that is lighter, brighter, ours…and perhaps I could breathe again.  Perhaps the ability to breathe again is in me, regardless of where I make our home.

Sometimes the wind tells me to run, take the kids and run far away to start again. To be unknown with no judgements, no gossip, no reminders.  Running is easy.  My heart tells me to stay. 

Maybe we will stay in our home, reclaim it, redecorate it and cleanse its walls, and in the process, cleanse ourselves.  Redecorate the kid’s rooms, paint the walls in outrageous colours, move furniture, purge the past and bring light to our home once again.  After all, the light comes from the very centre of us no matter where we go. 

Then again, maybe we won’t stay and go forward onto a new adventure.

That’s the most exciting part…I can choose the path, I can stay or go.

Yes, I feel a change coming to our amazing little family.  Healthy, loving, joyful change. 

http://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Today-is-the-day/266430446735734

Wait…I get car sick!

In an effort to sling shot the new and improved “me” into the world, I have tried numerous things that would challenge me.  Since I am a planner, all of these things are arranged in advance, because I have, let’s say, a bit of a control issue ;)

So….when I am in the midst of doing something I have never done before, have not pre-planned and have no control over, I find myself practically hysterical!

This is what happened this past weekend.

An innocent lunch out turned into an off road trip!  Never been off roading before, I assumed we would take a few gravel roads and be done with it.  Not so my friends.  We REALLY went off roading.

I don’t even ride rollercoasters, which I guess should be on my list of things to conquer.

Anyway…as we travelled down a safe, paved country road, in safe, secure jeep, I was surprised when we turned into what looked like a grass path beside a farmer’s field.

Immediately I questioned whether we were going to get into trouble because the signs I saw posted clearly said “private property”. 

Let’s back track here a bit.  I never do anything bad, illegal or suspect.  Never. 

Even in high school…I was a “good girl”.  Never missed a curfew, didn’t smoke, didn’t try drugs, didn’t drink, didn’t skip school.  Ok, I did once, but I felt really bad about it.

Anyway…back to the jeep.  As we travelled along this grassy path, I really start getting concerned.  I mean, what if the property owners see us.  Farmers have big dogs.  I am terrified of big dogs and they know it.  So naturally the vicious farm dog is going to eat me first. 

We keep driving until we come around a bend to an open grassy area.  There are hills, and I mean vertical hills, there are ditches, there are rocks (big rocks) and trees…lots of trees. 

The jeep stops and I know that the driver is considering which hill will terrify his passengers the most.  He guns the engine and heads straight for a vertical hill and we get half way up.  We don’t even make it all the way up, that’s how vertical this hill is and we roll back down (backwards).  I am pretty sure he did it for effect, but regardless, between closing my eyes, screaming and holding on, I am not finding his maniacal laughter very reassuring.  Did I mention that this hill is also covered with large, sharp rocks? 

We eventually go flying up and over the hill and before I can let out a scream, we are hurtling sideways down an embankment, turning so sharply I am fully convinced we are going to tip over.  At one point I looked out my window and saw the ground…level with the window.  I am pretty sure I asked him to promise me that I wouldn’t die because my kids needed me. 

We continue on, up and over hills, through mud and grass. Dirt and rocks flying, plowing over small trees, we drive and bounce until I am pretty sure I am going to be sick.  Over a small bridge, around bends, over hills.  Breathless from laughing, I decide that this was in fact one of the best afternoons I have had in a long time. 

Being forced out of my comfort zone, not having planned the afternoon and having no control, I found myself loving every second of it.  Who knew?

Forget that a tree branch came through my open window and whacked me in the head (ya I know, I should have closed my window, but I needed the air), I really enjoyed being scared silly.

Eventually we stopped at the top of a grassy spot, firstly because the other passenger and I had to pee, and secondly, the view was quite peaceful.  It felt so good to feel the fear of falling, defying gravity and being able to full out laugh while in the middle of it. Even the talk of coyotes didn’t scare me…much.   For a while I didn’t think of anything other than what was in that moment.  That’s an amazing thing.

It was even better being able to share it with a person in my life who I reconnected with recently and it was like time never had passed.  She has been a constant source of encouragement during my transition and this little adventure was definitely something I wouldn’t have wanted to go on with anyone else.

It never ceases to amaze me that the people in my life always seem to know when I need a boost.  Whether in comes in the form of having dinner cooked for me, a shoulder to cry on, an empathetic ear to vent to or a crazy off road driver, I am always left with a heart full of gratitude. 

Today was the day that I learned to put my faith in someone else. Mission accomplished.


http://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Today-is-the-day/266430446735734

Laughter, legos and grubby hands

In the midst of the chaos, the what if’s, the worry, the anxiety of my new life, there are small moments to be grateful for. 

These moments are fleeting and often go unnoticed while we are busy living, but are important just the same, maybe even more important than the big events.

Do we ever really stop to think about how amazing our lives are?  Sure, life can be hard…it can be downright devastating, but we all have those little moments that deserve to be recognized with gratitude.

Over the past year, I have really had to take stock of what’s important in my life and what isn’t.  Not only did this include the material things in my life, but the spiritual and emotional as well. 

I have been thinking a lot about a friend of mine who lost her 11 year old son to cancer.  Jacob’s amazing spirit reminds me to embrace every moment and let the minor annoyances be just that.

I have thought a lot lately about my daughter’s heart surgery 7 years ago and just how much she has overcome.  Her amazing spirit and strength inspires me every day.

I think about my son every day as he struggles to understand his role in our new family.  His courage and compassion remind me just how wise he is and how lucky I am to be part of his journey.

So…when I have days like I have had over the last week (busy, stressful, emotional) I remove myself from the chaos and remind myself how extremely grateful I am to have the simple joy of the living the life I have chosen for my path.

When I don’t  want to be the one making lunches every morning,  I make the lunches because I know that if I didn’t, my kids wouldn’t get their “I love you note” for the day.

When I don’t want to look after other people’s pants, shoes, games, bracelets, lego men, I take a step back and think about what my life would be without them.

When I don’t want to have to work on our budget that seems like it will never be enough, I take a deep breath and know that yes, we have enough.  “Enough” is a state of mind.

When I don’t want to have to share my space, my stuff, my everything with anyone, I remind myself that time is slipping away.  I snuggle a little longer, I hold on a little tighter and I get teary when my daughter leaves the house wearing my shoes, because now they actually fit.

When it’s 10pm and I hear the giggles drifitng from upstairs, and I really just want to yell up stairs “go to sleep” (and sometimes I do) I often sit at the bottom of the steps and just listen to their laughter so that one day when the house is quiet, I can remember the sound.

When my son comes inside covered in filth and lets me wash his hands and face, and I see that he is growing before my very eyes and he still feels so small, I am grateful to have those little hands in mine.

When my tween daughter comes downstairs dressed totally in her own ”unique” style, I can still see the little girl who at one time looked to me to find her “baby soup” (bathing suit) I hold back tears and am grateful to be able to watch her grow into her own person.


When all I really want to do is sit and be still for a moment and the kids just have to see Venus because the sky is clear, I go, because I know that those memories will stay with them and me as well.

When we are rushed in the morning to make the school bus on time and I find myself yelling to “hurry up”, I stop, take a breath and remember that there will come a day, much too soon, they won’t want me at the school bus.

When my kids climb into my bed in the middle of the night and I struggle to sleep in the foot of space I am left with, I snuggle a little closer and embrace the warm breath that brushes my cheek.

So it’s these little moments that bring me back to what really matters.  Our happiness doesn’t lie in more stuff, more money or if my kids look like they just stepped out of a J-Crew magazine.

It lies in what our family is built on…grubby little hands that will still hold mine, my shoes, late night laughter and legos.

What the what??? Who knew I had a trucker mouth?

I am by no means mechanically inclined. 

Let me be honest, I have trouble getting the windows to lock sometimes.  So, when I went to get the milk out of the fridge for my tea, and found the top shelf soaking wet, I immediately freaked.  And out of nowhere, I started using language that would make an inmate blush.  I have been known to throw out a few choice words now and then, but this was something altogether different.  There have absolutely been things in the past 7 months that would require such a reaction, but it was the fridge that did it.

I believe the words that actually came out of my mouth first were “mother  f*&er, son of a f*&%^ing b*^$% which were quite tame compared to the words that followed that I can’t even pretend to “cover” up here. 

The top shelf of the fridge was FULL of water…what the hell?  At first I thought something in the fridge was leaking and then my superior mechanical mind went to work and realized it was the freezer leaking into the fridge.

I opened the freezer and everything, I mean everything, was either thawed or well on the way.  Again, “mother  f*&%^”.   Insert more choice words. 

Normally I wouldn’t panic so much, BUT…I went grocery shopping yesterday and my fridge and freezer were FULL.  I try to shop every two weeks, because I have set up a pretty strict budget for myself.  The kids and I create a weekly menu and I base my shopping on that.  You see where I am going here.

The freezer was warm, the fridge was warm, there was water everywhere.  Normally, I would have stood there and cried, because that`s what I do.  Not this time.  I was pissed right off.  I am pretty sure I had channelled the anger that started brewing during my funk last week.  Holy hell…It was almost ridiculous how pissed off I was. 

I started pulling everything out of the freezer, throwing it in the sink with such anger that some of the stuff actually bounced back out, which made me even more mad.  I started to pull the soaking wet items from the top shelf of the fridge, also chucking those in the sink.  I had a look in the fridge, stopped and smelled the cheese, the yogurt.  Fruits, veggies…thankfully it was still ok.  Then I really panicked…screw the fruits, veggies and dairy…what about the bacon?  Phew… the bacon was alright.  I stood there spewing the foulest language I had ever heard come from my lips, or heard ever for that matter and I had worked in the Correctional system and was married to a trucker.

Then an actual light from heaven shone down,  right into my freezer…I think I even heard a choir sing.  I found not one, but two Skor chocolate bars I must have hidden for just such an occasion.  And since they were thawed, I had to eat them. 

At this point I am sitting on my kitchen floor, surrounded by rotting food, eating my chocolate and  wondering what I was going to do.  Will the fridge be ok until tomorrow?  I have a lot of food in there.  If I keep the door closed and possibly move some stuff to the deep freezer, I might be ok.  Should I start cooking some of the totally thawed stuff so at least it doesn’t have to go in the trash?  Not really how I wanted to spend my Sunday evening.

And of course it`s Sunday, so there really isn`t anyone to call. I would rather eat rotten chicken and risk salmonella than call the ex to help.  My thoughts turn to how much this repair is going to cost me.  The fridge isn`t even that old, but out of warranty of course.  My budget is slightly flexible, but definitely not flexible enough if I need a new fridge. 

As I am debating what to toss and what to keep, I examine a package of hotdogs.  I am pretty sure that hotdogs are ok to re-freeze after they have thawed…they aren`t real meat anyway.  Into the"keep” pile they go.  The only things I didn’t end up keeping were some soggy chicken nuggets, my favourite chicken & spinach pizza, a bag of wet pita bread, 2 bags of milk and a container of soup that was questionable long before today.  It all went into the trash.  Thankfully that was it. 

Still wondering if the fridge is going to be ok until morning, I got to work cleaning up the water that was not only in the fridge, but now dripping out on to the floor.

While I wiped out the top shelf, I noticed the dial in the fridge was turned to OFF.  What the F*&%!!!  Since I have been home alone all weekend, how the hell does that happen?  I mean, you have to physically turn the dial to get it in the off position.  Insert swear words, but this time out of pure joy.  Yes, extremely foul language can also be used in moments of joy.

Low and behold, I turned the dial to ``normal`` and the fridge suddenly came to life. 

I am not sure how it happened or why it happened, I am just happy that I figured it out without calling in a repair man and looking totally ridiculous.  I was kind of disappointed I didn’t have a legitimate reason to eat the cookie dough (seriously, the package open when I got there), but happy just the same.

The lessons learned here today…always check the on/off switch, find a reason to eat the cookie dough, and throw down the F-bombs when necessary.  Who knew having a trucker mouth could be so therapeutic?

What the funk?

Ya, ya I know…it’s been a while since I last blogged.  Thanks for all the messages asking whether I had officially been admitted to the nuthouse.  No, not the nuthouse (not yet anyway) but definitely some much needed “hermit” time.  Let’s call it my end of winter funk.

It’s been a couple of weeks of introspection, pity party and funk.  That’s the only way I can sum it up. A friend of mine who has been through this, told me this process would be one step forward and two back.  So, in my usual fashion, I am going to be totally honest with my readers and say, this is a “two step back” phase.   And it sucks.

It’s been months since I have been a weepy mess, but out of the blue here it is again.  I miss my family as we used to be.  I miss our Sunday morning breakfasts, our family game nights, our weekend back road trips.  Sure I still do all those things with the kids, but the empty chair at dinner suddenly makes our once too small table, feel quite large. 

I miss all the things that you take for granted when you have them.  The support that you know is waiting for you at the end of the day, the snuggle on the couch in the evening watching your favourite tv shows, the dances in the kitchen after the kids should be in bed, but are peeking down the stairs to spy, the quiet conversations in the car while the kids sleep in the back seat, the breathing beside you at night that is so familiar it’s almost like your own breath.  

I miss sharing 20 years of private jokes and falling asleep knowing that I am not in this alone.  Because regardless of the amazing friends and family that support me, at the end of the day, I am doing this alone. 

I have definitely felt the change in myself…an inner peace if you will, about what has happened, what I have learned and where I am going. It’s not easy to move on from 20 years, but I am getting there.

I firmly believe that you can be in a funk, yet still keep a positive light in your heart that this hurdle is just that…it’s not permanent, but a necessary part of the process.

I have tried, I mean really tried to take the high road.  I don’t talk badly about him to the kids or in front of the kids, or anyone really.  I am accommodating, flexible, even helpful for the sake of the kids.  I haven’t taken legal action or enforced our agreement as written, even though I should.   I keep a positive attitude and outlook for myself and for my kid’s sake.  There are times when I can feel the anger set in and it takes all I have to reel it back in so it doesn’t take over.  Would it help if he showed some regret, some emotion, if he didn’t act like nothing has changed?  I am not sure. 

But here I am, playing the weepy, ex wife role that seems to be my new identity these days.  Why?  I don’t really know.  Sigh

So now what?  I am scared of what’s behind me and I am scared of what’s in front of me.  I am kind of stuck in this middle place…a funk.

How do you get out of a funk?

I am not really sure, but today is the day that I stop playing the victim, pick myself up like I always do and plow forward because the other option isn’t an option.  And two weeks in a funk is long enough.