Project 365: Day 31 - Losing Control.....

Few things hurt more than the day you discover you no longer have control of every day of your children's lives. For most parents, this day comes when their kids reach some tweenage milestone and they're hanging out with their friends more than they're hanging out with you. Or when they get their driver's license and you're lucky to see them for a few minutes before they're off to school each morning. Or they fall in love for the first time and their whole world only revolves around the new found love of their lives, and no longer you.

But for a single parent, that day comes much sooner. We are faced with that realization the first time custody is handed off to the "other" parent. You've had them for your "share" of the time and now it's their turn. The first day is usually not the worst day. At that point, the children don't fully understand what's going on. To them, dad is taking them home and you'll be along shortly. It's not until probably the third or fourth hand off that they begin to realize, "Hey, wait a minute! The last time we did this I didn't see you for three whole days. What the hell!" And then it happens. The unbearable cry of a child being put in the back seat of daddy's car when they know mama's not sitting shot-gun.

You do your best to put on a strong face. You tell them that you'll see them soon and that they're going to have fun at daddy's. But nothing helps. They know the deal. They're starting to understand the new dynamics of their family and they don't like it one bit. You stand there, in your driveway, and you watch them pull away slowly. It might not really be slowly, but to you the car creeps backwards into the street as slow as the sunrise. Ten seconds turns into an eternity as you still hear them crying in the back seat. And then suddenly, eternity is gone in a flash. The car is no longer in your sight. And yet you still stand there frozen.... thinking, no wishing maybe they forgot something and they'll have to turn around and come back. After about fifteen minutes you realize they're not coming back and you won't see them again until Tuesday. As you walk back through the door of your now empty and quiet home, the strong face you previously had plastered to your head suddenly looses all feeling and sinks to the ground. And you break down.

That is how the realization of no longer having control of my children happened for me the first time. I say first time because a second, more painful event took place that burned this realization into my mind, my heart and my soul.

I had been in the new house for about three months when I got the call. Their dad was on the other line and the sound of the first syllable out of his mouth sent me into a panic mode that I can now only describe as blinding numbness. Big E had gone missing. His dad couldn't find him any where. Apparently the entire neighborhood was out looking for him. You see, that is one thing I truly miss about where I used to live. You could depend on every single neighbor in our community. And that day they became part of our family.

The boys had been out side with their dad and several neighbors and their kids. They were all playing in the backyard, going in and out of the house, riding their big wheels and bicycles, playing with bubbles and sidewalk chalk. Parents were gathered together in the usual spot on the side yard, talking about getting their kids into the right school or that "bad" corner down the street. You see, I know this was happening because it was a scene that we played for years in that neighborhood. But this scene ended much different than all those in years previous.

Their dad called for Big E and he didn't answer. Well, maybe he had gone inside. So dad went in the house, called for him time and time again. No answer. Fifteen minutes had gone by and the other neighbors started calling out for Big E, too. Twenty minutes gone now, still no answer. The dad running in and out of the house frantically calling out to his son and painfully hearing no reply. A call to 911 was placed. Police converged quickly. More neighbors were gathering. Dad tried to remain calm, but was slowly losing it, fearing that Big E had walked to the front of the house and someone grabbed him from the front yard. That fear worsened the minute he heard the officer call into his walkie talkie thingie on his shoulder and said "we need a bus and dogs at 428 ........". He lost it. Remnants of that fear still pierced his voice when he called me. But by then, his voice spoke in fear because of the experience he just endured. Because by the time the call was made to me, Big E had been located by a neighbor. He was hiding under the chaise lounge in the sun room. He heard his daddy calling him, but he was hiding, and at four, you're not supposed to give your hiding place away.

So now, Dad's fear transferred to me, but by the time it made it's way through the phone lines, it was no longer fear. It became anger. Deep, blood red anger. I wasn't angry at him because Big E hid from him. I was angry at him because he was there when it was happening and I was here, 45 minutes away. And he put me here, because he didn't want to be married anymore.

So that was the second time I realized that I no longer had control over each day of my children's lives. This second time was much harder to swallow but took less time to sink in. This was our life now. He would always be there and I would always be here. And our children would always be in between. While this dramatic and frightful event made it perfectly clear that custody of control was now part of the deal, acceptance of this is taking a little bit longer. But I'm working on it. Separation will be a continuous work in progress, but at least today I'm in better shape than I was yesterday and tomorrow, well..... I'll let you know tomorrow.

One thing I do know....... Tweenage milestones, Driver's licenses and falling in love will be a cake walk for me.

31 of 365: Tonight I have control and we're being silly in big pants.....

Good Night All!

Project 365: Day 30 - Sunshine....

I must say, I am quite proud of myself. Today marks 30 straight days that I have actually kept this up. To be perfectly honest with you, I figured I would falter somewhere around day 17, with some lame excuse. My day was exhausting and I simply passed out before getting around to it. Or, my laptop crashed, along with my desktop computer at home, along with my work computer, along with my IPhone. Or, the lamest of all, I simply forgot. How the hell can you "forget" a year long commitment you made to yourself (and the 10 other people that may or may not read this?) I could have used any one of those excuses, but I relentlessly declined. Even if it meant posting something at 1:30 am (and believe me, I LIKE my sleep.)

So today marks 30 days of journaling various scenes from my life. So far, it has been a great tool for memorizing the things that I actually would like to look back on a year from now and say "wow, I've come a long way." I think of it as my electronic portal of growth. A digitized chronicle of where I was and where I plan on going. I enjoy looking back on my life and seeing what kind of person I was a month ago, a year ago, five years ago. As long as I've made progressive steps forward, then I know I'm doing something right. If I were to look back a year ago and discover that I was the same exact person I am today, no better, no worse, then what did I accomplish?

You can't live life standing still. Life will begin to grow around you and your feet will begin to take root and the ivy will start to wrap it's vines around your legs, immobilizing you. You will stand there watching life take place all around you, without you, forgetting you, leaving you behind. That is, if you decide to stand still.

I was never one that could stand in one place for too long. I look back on my life a year ago and a great deal has changed. More than I would have ever imagined on this day 365 days ago. As a matter of fact, this time last year, I was planning a weekend birthday trip. Alone. I knew that some serious decisions had to be made and I knew that the only way for me to focus on doing what was best for my boys, was to drive to the mountains, sit on the back porch of a cheap hotel, drinking even cheaper coffee, reading books, looking out into vast woods of luscious green and sit there.... alone, with nothing but my thoughts. Besides the few phone calls I made to my boys and to my mom, there I sat, in silence for two and a half days. A lot of good came from that trip. Minus the enormous amount of junk food I inhaled, because it was my birthday and I could do whatever the hell I wanted.

So here I am, a year ago, with my peanut in my lap and the sun on my back. Shining a light for my year to come. For better or for worse, and like my tattoo, the sun's always got my back.

30 of 365: Looking back; moving forward.

Good Night All!

Project 365: Day 29 - Band Aids......

Sometimes single parents over compensate to make up for the fact that their time spent with their children has been forcefully reduced. We take them to McDonald's too often, we buy them toys and surprises more than usual, we shower them with gargantuan amounts of affection (my personal favorite). All in an effort to cover up a situation that may be difficult for them to fully understand, the broken-family band aid, I like to call it. If we place this band aid just so, then maybe they won't notice the separation as much.

But they notice. I knew a long time ago that my husband and I would separate. I put it off as long as I possibly could. But we weren't getting any younger. And the kids certainly were not either. I'm glad that I made the decision to leave when I did. The boys were a little over four years old. They would understand to a certain degree, but if we did it while they were still young, then maybe the event wouldn't affect them as much as it would if they were, say, 6 or 8 or 10. It was the right decision. It's true what they, "kids are resilient." And they are.

They understood far quicker than I ever thought they would. They were referring to their "two homes" even before I was. They knew "mama's house" and "daddy's house" and they knew it would never be one home again. But they were ok with it. It was so much harder on me than it ever was on them. It still is.

BUT every now and then one of the boys will display an emotional outburst, a public showing of distress the separation has created. It doesn't happen often, but when it does, it breaks my heart into a million pieces so small, that I'm certain once I put it back together several pieces are still missing. Never to be found again. And when this happens, I almost feel as if I've spoken too soon. "Ah, my boys are doing great." "They're adjusting very well." "They are young enough to adapt easily." So, what I've learned is..... that it doesn't matter when you do it. It affects them at every age. Hell, there are things that my birth mother did to me at age 1 that I truly believe shaped parts of my personality today.

So even though my argument for separating sooner rather than later has taken an about face, my final objective will always remain the same: to love my boys with all my heart and help them to understand that everything I do, everything I am, everything that is me, is because of and belongs to them.

Sometimes the band aids are more for me than they are for them.

29 of 365: Smiles and blue skies need no band aids....

Good Night All!

Project 365: Day 28 - Rescue..

After eight long months alone, Tready has finally been rescued from it's dark lonely home in the basement. She has been placed in her new permanent residence thanks to the boys' daddy and Mr. G. Thanks guys!!

28 of 365 - Ahhhh......Home sweet home.

Good Night All!

Project 365: Day 27 - Lesser of Two Evils.....

It is amazing how quickly the addition to video games forms in a young child. Six months ago, my boys had no clue about them. Then in the blink of eye, they are masters at XBox, Playstation and Wii. Not to mention various handheld devices they have been able to play with from time to time, courtesy their cousins. And no, I don't have all three of those consoles. When you are a child who possesses two homes, you tend to have a larger variety of, well, everything. And then throw a third home into the mix via Mimi and PawPaw, and these kids have more coming from a broken home than most kids do in a fully united family unit. One of the perks, I guess.

So, the video game thing has really surprised me. I knew that kids became addicted easily, but this is quite ridiculous. Their dad and I work really hard on putting limits on game time. And being a single parent, it can be really easy to let "game time" occupy the kids while you get some much needed chores accomplished. I will not lie and say that I haven't ever done it. I try my hardest, though, not to. But when I do, and I'm not saying I do often, but when I do, then I try not to beat myself up about it. There are too many other things, much bigger things, that I could beat myself up about. And this is not one of them.

So now a new realm of gaming has made it's way into our lives. Albeit my fault, but still. I found this great website called "Jump Start" and if you're a parent, more than likely you've heard of it. I hate that I've introduced my kids to yet another electronic brainwashing device, but this one is educational! And therein lies my justification. If it's educational then it has to be ok, right?

This site is great, though. It's a 3D interactive preschool lesson with dragons, pirates and anything else that lures a child into wanting to learn. They love it and I love the actual lessons the game tricks the kids into learning. Win win!

So if I had to choose between Legos Star Wars (and they have this in the XBox, Playstation AND Wii versions-dear lord) and Jump Start on the computer, well then I would have to choose the lesser of the two anti-physical activity evils. I would have to go with the game with the ulterior motives, Jump Start. Working your brain burns calories, right? So they're not becoming total slobs yet......

27 of 365: Classtime! And they thought they were playing, ha!

Good Night All!

Project 365: Day 26 - Better than air guitar....

Big E said that he was going to work with me tomorrow. I asked him what he was going to do there and he said "make money, mama." And I asked, "how are you going to make money?" Loved his reply, "I'm going paint it and then cut it into rectangles." Wow. If only it were that easy.

26 of 365: I know I already put one shot of Peanut in these pjs, but seriously? How cute is it that he's rocking out on the guitar on front??

Good Night All! I'm gonna go cut some money now.......

Project 365: Day 25 - Remember When?.....

I have a bad memory. I always have a hard time remembering someone's face. I'm bad at remembering names almost all of the time. I sometimes can't recall if I've seen a movie before. Minor everyday responsibilities often escape me. But nothing boggles my mind more than when I try to think back before kids. I know I lived before then, so there has to be something that happened. I was 32 when they were born, there was definitely life before 32. The question is, who's? And was it any good?

I guess to ask myself if my life was any good before 32 would kind of be an insult to those who were a part of my life before 32. I know that my life was good, great even. I have an amazing family. One that you might not claim as your own in front of a crowd, but behind closed doors, they're your closest allies because you realize you're crazy just like them. I love my crazy amazing family. And my dearest friends from long ago have remained that way to this day. Some have made it past the 15 year mark and one has been precious enough to stand by me for over 27 years.

And while I couldn't imagine my life without all these amazing crazy precious people, at the same time, it is hard for me to remember specific events or interactions I had with them over those 32 years. I barely remember high school. If you add together all 6 years I attended college, I probably remember a combined total of 9 solid days. And I promise you, forgetting was not caused by anything you may be imagining. Hell, if I had done any of those things you are imagining, I might have something to remember.

But it's funny. I know I have a hard time recollecting childhood memories, but I know my childhood was good. I couldn't tell you the names of any of my high school teachers, but they did something right because I graduated with great grades. And I have no idea what kind of elective classes I took in college, but I earned a degree in sociology and they don't just give those things out to anybody.

I don't want the next 20 years of my boys' lives to go by and I'm writing about how I barely remember most of their childhood. I want to soak in as much as I can and maintain a memory database of all things "them" for easy retrieval when I need them most. I cannot allow myself to let their lives flash before me and then slip away into some memory graveyard like I have my own childhood. Digging becomes much harder once they're buried.

The point of all this is that I'm totally excited about this project. It gives me a chance to spend a whole year journaling every single day and commemorating it with a photo. Maybe that photo will help me remember how I felt more than the words I wrote.

25 of 365: Amazing night of giggle wrestling, hiccup laughter, goofy pictures, and silly videos with my favorite men.

Good Night All!