It's been almost two years since I started having to be a part-time parent. It has taken me this long to identify and accept the hardship this has been.
It's not fair. Or it is fair and it is the punishment for having been careless with my choices.
It is difficult to accept such a severe punishment for things you did without malice, for choices you made out of hope and what seemed like good judgement. It is difficult to accept a punishment when you know you did the best you could, tried to fix your mistakes when you knew you had made them and when most of your life is much better as a result. But here it is, my lingering punishment and my continued battle to make peace with it and move on.
I know having both of us involved is better for my children and I do not begrudge them their relationship with their dad. But, oh, how my heart and soul and identity is splintered around our split up weeks.
My relationship with motherhood has always felt fairly divided. Periods of bliss and my full time focus broken up by tragedy and pain. Even in the good times was a striking contrast between home and work or social. I seem to always be the only one with babies in my circle. In a world of restaurants and late nights the child free outnumber the breeders and I have often felt the pull to be two different characters. Always a divide. How have I done everything so wrong that my life is so fractured? What am I not seeing or embracing?
Anyway...
At first, the schedule felt good. I was homeschooling and had a little babe and being home and home-schooling Monday through Friday with the kids at their dad's on Saturday and Sunday while I waited tables like a madwoman felt great. I could be home, be mom, go to parks, read books, spend time and then when we had to be apart I could bury myself in the business of money making. Weekends made the most sense as they provided the most income. It worked. I was happy.
Then this past fall came and "real school" and baby school came calling and more time to work when the kids would be gone and still the weekends held the cash and more time at dad's and I have found myself tired, stressed, lost, empty and feeling disconnected and broken. And I am not sure how to fix it. I loathe being nothing but the business parent. My house is the place of homework and bedtimes and schedules and school days and go-go-go and no time and get it done. How thankless and miserable that all seems without the slow pace of a weekend together or a birthday party or a picnic or a day trip to offset it. I have worked more (although there never seems to be more money) to fill the days when they are occupied and then again when they go away I buckle down to a long, long, LONG weekend of work. Why not? They are gone from me. I can't take them somewhere fun or relaxing. I've started to dread the time they are here as much as I dread the time they are away- and it's me. I have twisted myself into such a mess of tired stressed and lonely that it's hard to see clearly.
Something needs to change. I just wish I could see how to do it. This summer I plan to work MUCH less during the week and spend my time with my babies- around vacations and camps and all that time away. I want them to go see and do and take trips and have as many people that love them in their lives as they can. And I also want to hoard them home with me so I can get my fill before the school year comes back.
And what about this new baby? This full time always home, always with me baby? How will this blend? How will life change to let more time and happiness in?
More happiness, more laziness, more joyful excursions are in order. Less reminding and scolding and homeworking and "quick, it's a school night!" are in order. I find myself tired and sad and wondering how this all happened? How did I get here? I tried so hard to be kind and helpful and work hard and do right by everyone... how is it fair that when I stood up for me I managed to lose so much? Does fair have anything to do with it?
31.5.14
19.5.14
And then I went full-blown hippie.
I don't have a particularly solid reason for why veganism is happening in my life. People keep asking and I find myself a little stumped.
Then I start talking about it and realize I have a lot to say.
I've flirted with the issue for awhile. About 4 years ago I really took an interest in the quality of food that I was putting in my body. Documentaries, books and websites about clean eating suddenly became really interesting to me. Now that I think about it, it was around the time that I really started studying natural birth, my genetic disorder and started feeling a strong resistance to the accepted ideas of health, medicine and food.
But I still ate plenty of meat and animal products. Well, not PLENTY. I've never been a huge meat eater.
Anyway, about two years ago when my life exploded and stress was making my weight plummet to the low 100's (which at 5'8" did not look good) I lost my grip on all of it and started eating anything that sounded good that I could keep in. At that point I needed it. I needed anything in my belly. And then busy and life and lazy and all the rest happened and where I had been making green smoothies for breakfast, cooking whole grains and veggies for lunch and eating fish and lean beef at dinner, I was now right back to eating fried chicken and burgers and only once a day or every other day and feeling like crap. I was still a size 0 or 2 so it didn't seem so bad, yanno?
Then I discovered I was pregnant, had to get off all the pain medications I was taking for my EDS, was really sick, really unhappy and eating a truly disgusting amount of awful, awful foods. I reached a my limit for nonsense and started planning a change. Or at least whining a lot about needing to change. I had skimmed through Alicia Silverstone's "The Kind Diet" before and been intrigued and with a bun in the oven it seemed natural to pick up "The Kind Mama" and see what IT had to say. And something clicked. Four years of flirting and reading and listening and trying finally started to form a whole picture.
So now I'm a vegan.
I guess.
(That still sounds weird)
I find it hilarious that the first thing people say to me is that it is risky while in my current condition and that pregnancy is not the time to start a restrictive diet.
Yeah..... Not the time to restrict your diet except say so long to lunch meats, hot dogs, too much fish, sushi, alcohol, medications, caffeine, etc.
Pregnancy is all about restricting your diet. And if all of those things are too risky to eat while you're knocked up, why are they okay when you're not?
So here I am. I'm just starting and learning and taking my vitamins and packing in nutrients all day every day. Meat was easy to give up since at some point in all of my pregnancies it has suddenly seemed like the grossest thing ever. Eggs and stocks and the like were also a breeze. Dairy? That has been tougher. But not all that tough. Its been 3 full weeks since I ate and meat, fish or eggs and about 5 days since any animal products at all have gone in my mouth. Honestly? I feel great. I have less of a sweet tooth already, more energy, ZERO digestion complaints and my skin is looking better than it has in years. I went crazy last night and indulged in homemade vegan nachos and while they were far from healthy, they weren't hurtful either and it was amazing to not feel bloated and ishy after a junk food feast.
The kids aren't vegan, the love isn't vegan, YOU don't have to be vegan. I'm not sure why but this just makes sense for me. The more I learn the more I find it off putting how much animal byproduct we use. It's in your toothpaste and lipstick and body wash and everywhere else. For me, that seems unnecessary. I'm trying to be a more responsible consumer and make sure that the new products I buy are vegan and organic. I'm trying to feed myself with natural, unprocessed ingredients. I am really enjoying taking stock of the way I treat my body. With a degenerative, debilitating disorder to confront and not a lot of answers from the popular medical culture, I am trying to take control, love my body and explore natural ways to find relief, extend my mobility and health and to see, just see, if maybe I can be vital and radiant and strong. So far? This is awesome.
Then I start talking about it and realize I have a lot to say.
I've flirted with the issue for awhile. About 4 years ago I really took an interest in the quality of food that I was putting in my body. Documentaries, books and websites about clean eating suddenly became really interesting to me. Now that I think about it, it was around the time that I really started studying natural birth, my genetic disorder and started feeling a strong resistance to the accepted ideas of health, medicine and food.
But I still ate plenty of meat and animal products. Well, not PLENTY. I've never been a huge meat eater.
Anyway, about two years ago when my life exploded and stress was making my weight plummet to the low 100's (which at 5'8" did not look good) I lost my grip on all of it and started eating anything that sounded good that I could keep in. At that point I needed it. I needed anything in my belly. And then busy and life and lazy and all the rest happened and where I had been making green smoothies for breakfast, cooking whole grains and veggies for lunch and eating fish and lean beef at dinner, I was now right back to eating fried chicken and burgers and only once a day or every other day and feeling like crap. I was still a size 0 or 2 so it didn't seem so bad, yanno?
Then I discovered I was pregnant, had to get off all the pain medications I was taking for my EDS, was really sick, really unhappy and eating a truly disgusting amount of awful, awful foods. I reached a my limit for nonsense and started planning a change. Or at least whining a lot about needing to change. I had skimmed through Alicia Silverstone's "The Kind Diet" before and been intrigued and with a bun in the oven it seemed natural to pick up "The Kind Mama" and see what IT had to say. And something clicked. Four years of flirting and reading and listening and trying finally started to form a whole picture.
So now I'm a vegan.
I guess.
(That still sounds weird)
I find it hilarious that the first thing people say to me is that it is risky while in my current condition and that pregnancy is not the time to start a restrictive diet.
Yeah..... Not the time to restrict your diet except say so long to lunch meats, hot dogs, too much fish, sushi, alcohol, medications, caffeine, etc.
Pregnancy is all about restricting your diet. And if all of those things are too risky to eat while you're knocked up, why are they okay when you're not?
So here I am. I'm just starting and learning and taking my vitamins and packing in nutrients all day every day. Meat was easy to give up since at some point in all of my pregnancies it has suddenly seemed like the grossest thing ever. Eggs and stocks and the like were also a breeze. Dairy? That has been tougher. But not all that tough. Its been 3 full weeks since I ate and meat, fish or eggs and about 5 days since any animal products at all have gone in my mouth. Honestly? I feel great. I have less of a sweet tooth already, more energy, ZERO digestion complaints and my skin is looking better than it has in years. I went crazy last night and indulged in homemade vegan nachos and while they were far from healthy, they weren't hurtful either and it was amazing to not feel bloated and ishy after a junk food feast.
The kids aren't vegan, the love isn't vegan, YOU don't have to be vegan. I'm not sure why but this just makes sense for me. The more I learn the more I find it off putting how much animal byproduct we use. It's in your toothpaste and lipstick and body wash and everywhere else. For me, that seems unnecessary. I'm trying to be a more responsible consumer and make sure that the new products I buy are vegan and organic. I'm trying to feed myself with natural, unprocessed ingredients. I am really enjoying taking stock of the way I treat my body. With a degenerative, debilitating disorder to confront and not a lot of answers from the popular medical culture, I am trying to take control, love my body and explore natural ways to find relief, extend my mobility and health and to see, just see, if maybe I can be vital and radiant and strong. So far? This is awesome.
17.5.14
Number Three...
Unplanned pregnancies are hard, yo.
They are hard even when you're already a mom to two marvelous children. They're hard even when you talked about how you always wanted a third. They're hard even when your partner is thrilled and you are already sharing a home with each other and the two, previously mentioned, children. They are hard even when parenthood won't be a shock to your senses. They are hard even when the outpouring of support from places you were sure would condemn do is wonderful.
They are hard when you were just feeling like your plans were in place. When you were training and ready to launch your new career. When you felt like your feet were underneath you and you finally had a grip on life for you and your small ones. When you had started to make peace with your family being complete. When you are ashamed that you've tried this twice before with two other marriages and fathers and both of them ended in disaster. When you are still legally bound to where you don't want to be. When you have to admit with your body that you were not as responsible as you know you should have been.
When, for the first time in your life, you are filled with fear about what will come next. What people will say. What people will think and NOT say. What on earth you will do if it all falls apart again.
They are hard when you have watched your health and your body decline rapidly for two years. When worry about not being able to provide for yourself and your brood is a real thing.
They are hard when your trademark blind faith has been shaken hard enough to go into hiding.
Sometimes, you just have to sit still, and wait for the happy to come.
You have to pretend you believe it is coming even when you are not sure.
I long for the dreamy, meditative nature of my first two pregnancies. I long for the peace and the calm. I wish I were savoring every moment of what I know will be the last time I ever am two people at once. Perhaps I will soon.
In some ways I have no idea how I got here or what I thought my plan was. At the same time, I know with certainty that at every step for the past two years I have stopped, looked, thought, searched and made sure that every choice was made carefully. I am here, in this relationship with this man, in this commitment, not just because it felt good but because it was right, because I am better, he is better, my children are better as a result. We were so careful and slow and cautious. We communicate so beautifully, face challenges together, support and encourage each other and I feel heard, respected, cherished and happy. I believe he does too. And then this. This is not slow or cautious or careful. I joke about having abused the privilege of marriage and babies- but am I joking? Will I ever learn to trust my judgement? Should I?
For now I am just striving to accept. To take each moment on its own and make the best, most responsible decision I can with the well being of my children and our home as my only motivation. I am trying to trust that life will be beautiful for us because we are trying and growing and talking and working and facing our fears and because somewhere, deep down, I still have that faith. I still know that when you allow love and hope to motivate your life you are always rewarded with bounty and joy.
So I am pretending that I know it is coming.
Even when I am not sure that it is.
They are hard even when you're already a mom to two marvelous children. They're hard even when you talked about how you always wanted a third. They're hard even when your partner is thrilled and you are already sharing a home with each other and the two, previously mentioned, children. They are hard even when parenthood won't be a shock to your senses. They are hard even when the outpouring of support from places you were sure would condemn do is wonderful.
They are hard when you were just feeling like your plans were in place. When you were training and ready to launch your new career. When you felt like your feet were underneath you and you finally had a grip on life for you and your small ones. When you had started to make peace with your family being complete. When you are ashamed that you've tried this twice before with two other marriages and fathers and both of them ended in disaster. When you are still legally bound to where you don't want to be. When you have to admit with your body that you were not as responsible as you know you should have been.
When, for the first time in your life, you are filled with fear about what will come next. What people will say. What people will think and NOT say. What on earth you will do if it all falls apart again.
They are hard when you have watched your health and your body decline rapidly for two years. When worry about not being able to provide for yourself and your brood is a real thing.
They are hard when your trademark blind faith has been shaken hard enough to go into hiding.
Sometimes, you just have to sit still, and wait for the happy to come.
You have to pretend you believe it is coming even when you are not sure.
I long for the dreamy, meditative nature of my first two pregnancies. I long for the peace and the calm. I wish I were savoring every moment of what I know will be the last time I ever am two people at once. Perhaps I will soon.
In some ways I have no idea how I got here or what I thought my plan was. At the same time, I know with certainty that at every step for the past two years I have stopped, looked, thought, searched and made sure that every choice was made carefully. I am here, in this relationship with this man, in this commitment, not just because it felt good but because it was right, because I am better, he is better, my children are better as a result. We were so careful and slow and cautious. We communicate so beautifully, face challenges together, support and encourage each other and I feel heard, respected, cherished and happy. I believe he does too. And then this. This is not slow or cautious or careful. I joke about having abused the privilege of marriage and babies- but am I joking? Will I ever learn to trust my judgement? Should I?
For now I am just striving to accept. To take each moment on its own and make the best, most responsible decision I can with the well being of my children and our home as my only motivation. I am trying to trust that life will be beautiful for us because we are trying and growing and talking and working and facing our fears and because somewhere, deep down, I still have that faith. I still know that when you allow love and hope to motivate your life you are always rewarded with bounty and joy.
So I am pretending that I know it is coming.
Even when I am not sure that it is.
15.5.14
It's been a long, long, long time...
At least ten times a day my brain screams out,
"No! Life wasn't supposed to look like this! This is not what I want or how I ever saw myself or my family or my story... No!"
And immediately after a calm washes over me and I realize that this just is not true. The catch to never visualizing a clear and concise picture of your future is never being able to say that things ended up wrong. And then I remember that nothing has ended. I am still going and building and shaping.
So I end up conflicted and confused somewhere between shame and regret and the vital truth that I am just where I should be.
It was time. I woke up and looked around and knew, KNEW, that the putting to rest, the breaking of old bonds and allowing the new growth to take over needed to happen- I just didn't know how. So I jumped. I made choices and slashed and burned and tended and nurtured and it hurt. It was ugly and messy and beautiful and awful.
It took time.
It took me more than two years to accept that this is the work that will never be done. It took more than two years to be ready to talk again.
These things take time.
I am ready to share again, ready to acknowledge that telling the story is important to me. That I am better when I write it in a place that it can be found.
I am ready now.
"No! Life wasn't supposed to look like this! This is not what I want or how I ever saw myself or my family or my story... No!"
And immediately after a calm washes over me and I realize that this just is not true. The catch to never visualizing a clear and concise picture of your future is never being able to say that things ended up wrong. And then I remember that nothing has ended. I am still going and building and shaping.
So I end up conflicted and confused somewhere between shame and regret and the vital truth that I am just where I should be.
It was time. I woke up and looked around and knew, KNEW, that the putting to rest, the breaking of old bonds and allowing the new growth to take over needed to happen- I just didn't know how. So I jumped. I made choices and slashed and burned and tended and nurtured and it hurt. It was ugly and messy and beautiful and awful.
It took time.
It took me more than two years to accept that this is the work that will never be done. It took more than two years to be ready to talk again.
These things take time.
I am ready to share again, ready to acknowledge that telling the story is important to me. That I am better when I write it in a place that it can be found.
I am ready now.
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