Always a Mom

Today marks the end of my third week apart from my daughter. It’s been an interesting three weeks. As I look back and assess where I am at this moment, it can only be described as being adrift in the middle of the ocean. Gone are any false hopes that I will be able fill my days full enough that I will forget how much I miss her.

I once told her that my world doesn’t work without her. That’s still true in this moment. I’ve had some fun, gotten some rest, was able to work late and stay out well into the wee morning hours. I’ve only made 1 or 2 home cooked meals, dealt with no tantrums, wasn’t frustrated because she wasn’t listening to me or talking over me on a business call.

I also haven’t had any hugs, kisses, pictures, giggles, cuddles, ‘mommy you’re the best’s’ or ‘can we just have mommy and me time’ conversations either. This trip has made me realize so clearly that becoming a parent alters who you are. It’s not something you get to turn on and off, based on the geographic location of your child. I’m a mom, I will always be a mom and nothing I do will change that. In thirteen days I will wrap my arms around my little one once again and I will finally have both feet on solid ground.

I often joke that it only takes her 30 minutes to get me right back to frustrated parent dealing with a child who doesn’t listen. You’d think that after all that time away you’d have at least a two-week grace period before getting angry at your child’s behavior. That’s another fantasy. The reality is that she’ll be coming back to our home, with Mommy’s rules – which are much different from the rules at Daddy’s. There will be a painful readjustment period, but I can’t wait for it to begin.

My world is upside down right now. I’m doing the best that I can in her absence and I’m so grateful that this is just temporary.

Anatomy of a Sad Run

Today I decided that instead of facing down sadness, I’d go for a run.  I’m still in 5K training mode. I have 9 more races to run by the end of the year so going out for a run is nothing unusual. It is unusual for me to leave the tv off and actively decide to start my day with meditation and running. I’m really glad I did.

I was laying in bed with tears running down my face, missing my little girl (1-1/2 weeks down, 3-1/2 weeks to go). I didn’t have to get up and the 5 hours of sleep I got was nowhere near enough, but my brain would not let me rest. I’ve done quite a bit of personal development work and I know that there are healthy coping mechanisms and self-destructive ones. Today I decided that being healthy was my priority.

It’s hot today, but probably not as hot as it’s going to be during some of my races so I got outside with my iPod. I usually listen to an energy meditation podcast before I begin my run. I love Stin Hansen’s work at http://www.mythoughtcoach.com. It’s a huge comfort when I am going through challenging times. Today I listened to Affirmations for Coping with a Crisis and particularly liked the following affirmations:

• It’s perfectly alright to feel sadness and hurt, these are normal human emotions.
• As I welcome comfort and peace, it will come. I am ready for comfort and peace now.
• I make sure my sources of help are constructive.
• The friends or  family members that I need most now rally around me. When they reach out, I let them in.
• I shun any destructive behaviors as a way of coping with this.
• My primary focus now is learning how to heal in the healthiest way possible.
• When it is time and when I am ready, I will transcend this. I will rise above the ashes.

While I jogged I remembered to focus on my breathing and used an exercise I learned long ago. It calls for you to visualize your pain or anxiety and give it a color. You then breathe out that color and breathe in a calming color. I breathed out the flame orange pain and breathed in an island ocean blue. As I was breathing out that pain I reminded myself to let it go. I didn’t need to hold onto it to make it real. I could let it go and do my best to replace it with happy thoughts and memories. As I was sweating, I thought of all the toxins, physical and emotional, that were leaving my body and I was grateful.

Now for the new runners, here is the breakdown of my physical run. It’s seems to be a story of 8′s:

• First 8 minutes (1-8) – Piece of cake. I don’t even know where the time went
• Next 8 minutes (9-16) – I’m now thinking about the fact that I’m running and it’s hot, but it’s not too hard.
• Third 8 minutes (17-24) – Whew, I went a little further today then yesterday and yay it’s time to turn around and head back!
• Fourth 8 minutes (25-32) – Holy crap! When did this get so hard??? I just want to stop but I slow down to a jogging crawl.
• Last 8 minutes (33-40) – At this point, you’ve already run 32 minutes! Just think of it like the first 8. You can’t stop NOW!

I will say that at 37:30 I heard myself moan and I didn’t know whether I was going to hurl or cry. I swallowed my bile, kept up my slow shuffle and let the tears fill my eyes. Something about letting go made them not want to spill over onto my face. I stopped trying to control my sadness. It’s a real human emotion and I am a real human being. Some days I try hard not to be, but  I am only cheating myself and those who find beauty and wisdom in my vulnerability.

Today I was sad. I meditated, I went for a run and I am now sharing what’s in my heart.  I now leave the rest up to the Universe.

I missed her, sent her love and light and then I dropped it.

Day 1 without my peanut and I survived. Only got weepy one time today, and didn’t let any of the tears actually spill. That’s impressive. Right? I promised myself that as I experienced the ups and downs of the 5 week separation from my daughter, I would be grateful each time I benefitted from her being with her father.

Today I had an audition at 4:40 pm in Manhattan. On a normal day I would never be able to make it home to pick my daughter up from after care. When this happens, I usually have to call in a favor to get coverage. My friends are terrific and it’s never a problem, but knowing that today she was with family while I worked made me feel a little bit better.

Several times today I started to call her to see how she was doing at her dad’s house. I stopped myself each time. I’m not sure why, but I just knew that calling her would have upended the routine she’s starting to build at her other home. I worry about everything. I worry if she’s happy, I worry if she’s homesick, I worry if she was able to fall asleep last night, or had a tummy ache today and if she’s feeling secure and having fun or if she’s sad and crying.

That’s what I do as a mom, I worry about the big stuff and the teeny tiny things. It made me think of the movie Eat Pray Love when Richard gives Liz this advice about her ex-boyfriend David, “So miss him. Send him some love and light every time you think about him, then drop it.” Richard goes on to share wisdom about what Liz will be capable of manifesting should she free up all this space she’s using to obsess about a guy.

It’s a loose translation, but it works. If I only obsess about my daughter for the next 5 weeks then I have wasted time and energy. I will think of her many moments of every day. My heart will ache with missing her, but I will do my best to miss her, send her love and light and then drop it. If I can do that, then maybe I will be able to manifest some amazing gifts in the space I open up.

The ache will be there whether I obsess about her needs being met or not, so I choose not. Mommy loves you little one.  Sweet dreams.

Dropping Off My Heart

It’s D-Day. For me that’s drop off day. The day I drive my daughter to the airport so she can go spend five weeks with her father. FIVE WEEKS! It seems to be an impossible length of time. She’s spent the last year with me and now she’ll be away for five weeks. Some people think this must be the coolest thing that could ever happen to a single parent. All the sudden you get weeks of free time to do whatever you want! Score! Right?

Not quite so. There are benefits to some time off. I will get a chance to recharge my batteries and I’ll be able to do things I might not try if she were here. The double edged sword of it all, is that dropping her off is like dropping off my heart. When she leaves the world dims. Things just don’t seem right anymore. It’s takes an extra effort just to get out of bed, or to even care about the things that previously excited me.

Do I go through a mini state of depression? Absolutely. Do I cry? Hell yes! I do my best to send her off happily because she deserves this time with her dad. It’s been hard enough for her not to have him around. She needs to know that he loves her and to be the center of someone else’s world for a change. I know that I can’t be her everything, nor should I be. I do the best that I can to fill in for all of her needs in his day to day absence. It’s NEVER enough.

My kid is like any other child. She wants us to get back together and live as one happy family. It’s not going to happen. The best I can offer her is to be supportive of  her getting the love she needs from her dad. When she goes away I practice getting the love I need for myself. That means taking good care of me – exercising, eating right, resting, meditating and playing. It’s an effort, because right now all I want to do is curl up in the corner and cry.

This is my third year dropping off my heart. It hasn’t gotten any easier. Each year I’ve wished there would be someone to catch me after she happily skips away with her father, and I begin my fall. Instead I drive alone on the airport roads to my exit, hoping the tears don’t get so bad that I need to pull over.

I drive home or wherever I’m going and do my best to craft the appropriate responses to people’s inquiries. I don’t think they want to hear how deeply my heart is broken.  They definitely don’t want to see the raw wound that’s ravaging my heart. I don’t even want to see it! I start to pick up the pieces. I know and I’m grateful that this is temporary heartbreak, that my little girl will come home. The fatalistic side of me wonders what could happen while she’s gone, but I quickly replace that with the image of her running back into my arms five weeks from today!

I realize I’m not in control. I can’t control anything that happens to her while she’s away. I can only control how I respond to it. It’s the lesson I work to teach her every day, but it’s much harder to apply now. Who’s going to kiss her boo boos, is her dad going to pick up on her emotional nuances, what will he do to manage her homesickness, how will he reassure her when she thinks that she’s not enough and how will I cope when she calls crying – as she always does.

I don’t have all the answers. I have a lot of tears, some shed and some waiting in the wings. I’m going to breathe, get ready and take her to see her dad. I’ll be a grown up about it and I’ll handle all the questions that come up on the long ride to the airport. I’ve already handled most of the tough ones like, “What if I don’t know what daddy looks like?” There goes another crack in my heart. I guess when you’re just six and haven’t seen your dad for a year, that’s a legitimate concern. I promised her that I’d help her find her daddy and I promised myself that I wouldn’t cry until she’s out of sight.

Time to see what I’m really made of.

“I Learned About SPERM When I Was 6!”

I guess it’s only fitting that I had a huge rite of passage on Father’s Day. If my ex-husband were here I definitely would have called in reinforcements when my daughter began asking how babies were made. She asked that question when she was four and I was SO not ready to answer. I wasn’t ready to answer tonight either, but thankfully we were in the car at night and she was in the backseat. Something about her not having to see my face as I cringed at each question and tried to keep breathing through the answers made it all easier.

My kid is really smart, so I didn’t think the stork answer would work. Believe me, if I thought I could sell that one I probably would have for the next dozen years. I am concerned that her friends will get to her first if I don’t have, “the talk.” I had to keep telling myself to stop calling it, “the talk” or “the conversation!” OH, there were so many bad moments in that conversation! What surprised me was that there were a few moments when we were both reduced to giggles.

One of my favorite/least favorite moments was when she asked me how we made her. SIGH! I don’t really believe there is any having the birds and the bees conversation halfway. It was all or nothing. For me, that meant keeping it in the context of procreation, not recreation! What was cringe worthy was when she asked about pulling down underpants halfway or a quarter of the way to accomplish the transfer of the sperm to the egg. Her asking “where” it happened didn’t help either.

I never thought of it from her perspective. I think that’s where the giggles came in. When she seemed amazed that her father and I had pulled down our underpants and revealed our “privates” to each other,  it was hilarious. I believe her exact response was that it was weird and disgusting! I wish I could remember all of the moments in the conversation.

I will definitely remember that upon beginning to tell her that this was not a conversation to have with her friends, she said, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, privacy…privacy!” I couldn’t help but crack up. She asked when she’d be able to talk about it with her friends, to which I replied around high school. My little imp gleefully piped up, “I’ll shout out that I learned about sperm when I was 6!!”

Of course I am horrified that the explanation might not be enough to satisfy her curiosity. When she asked if one of the boys in her class had sperm, I almost died. Tomorrow we are going right to the bookstore to buy an age appropriate book about reproduction! This is one conversation where I need all the professional help I can get. I know it would be foolish to believe that it is over now. I’m sure this is just the beginning.

I said the words sperm, egg, penis and vagina and I did not die. Good job, Mommy!

I found a link that might provide helpful if you are in a similar situation http://www.webmd.com/sex/features/when-to-talk-to-your-child-about-sex

 

The Power of Vulnerability

The next two weeks are going to be really tough for me. I’m approaching the time of year where I pack up my baby girl and send her to see her father who lives out-of-state. She’ll be gone for over a month. It’s like my heart has a gaping hole in it. People always say that they’d love to have a break from their kids. I agree to an extent. With a long break like this you don’t have to deal with bad behavior, discipline or neediness, but you also miss out on the smiles, hugs, kisses and everything else that makes parenting so amazing.

I joke that I spend half of her visit crying, but it’s probably pretty close to the truth. I find it incredibly difficult to be around my friends with kids when she’s gone. It’s like pouring salt on an open wound. My friends are so sweet and I think they believe that surrogate love is comparable to my daughter’s love. I am appreciative that they don’t let me curl up in a ball and stay put through her entire trip, but nothing fills the void. Nothing is supposed to. My daughter has a unique essence that is all her own and the world seems like it’s upside down until she gets back.

The tricky part about this is that once again, it’s not about me. This trip is about meeting my daughter’s needs. She needs to know that she has a father who loves her and she deserves to spend time with his side of the family.  As much as I want to be able to be her everything, I realize that there will be benefits in her going on her trip (as long as the other household is a positive and healthy environment).

It’s hard to write this without crying.  This is where I remind myself about the power of being vulnerable and of sharing my story. I realize that there are millions of other parents also going through this same struggle. Somehow knowing that you are not alone makes it a little easier to tolerate. Not less painful, but easier to tolerate. I will do my best to fill my time with activities I can’t do when she’s here. I’ll spend many evenings out because I won’t have to worry about daycare pick up or the cost of a baby sitter. I’ll have fun, get rest and count every single second until she’s back in my arms.

This is my third summer sending her away. It never gets easier and I bet it never will. Maybe this is preparation for sending her off to college. That’s just my way of finding a silver lining.

MORE!!!

My head is spinning after a very long and somewhat busy day. My time management was off today which caused me to run late to pick up my daughter. Thank God one of my village members was right there to pick up the slack. The three of us met up for a speedy dinner and then I zipped my little one home. What then, you ask? I dropped her off, changed, gave her a kiss and was off to a networking meeting for people who are going through a “career transition.”

I’m so darn tired. I was up late last night, supposedly working on my business plan. In hind sight, I was doing more connecting on social media (which is also necessary) that accomplishing my actual task. So when I figured out that I wasn’t done with my tasks I stayed up late – 2 am late. It’s a vicious circle. I stay up to some ungodly hour, have trouble getting going in the morning and then am overwhelmed by how much I have to do in so little time.

So should I complain? Nope. We all have the same 24 hours. On days like this I think about all the people that are out there smashing their checklists, while putting the time in with their families and still making time for their communities and for themselves. I’m not saying that’s the norm, because I truly don’t think it is. I would love to meet some of these phenomenal women and men, so I could learn from them.

The tough part is that people are saying do more. What sticks out in my head from tonight’s meeting was the recommendation to go to at least 3 networking events a month. That may not seem like a lot to some people, but on top of what I’ve got going on and with being a single parent on a very fixed income it means getting creative. Creative so that I don’t neglect my daughter’s needs and that I find ways to get coverage that doesn’t cost me $50 a night.

The solution? Work smarter, better time management, prioritize, breathe and remember that I only live once so if something slips through the cracks…it slips.

Perfect – Rhythm of Love

I was shocked to discover that I was humming, “Rhythm of Love” by Plain White T’s while cleaning up after my daughter’s birthday party tonight. It was perfect. I had dropped my dear friend and her kids off at the train station a few hours prior. We both shared how wonderful the day had been. That was the last thing I expected at the onset of this day.

The best I was hoping for was a minor calamity of too many people, not enough space and a party that would go down in history for all the wrong reasons. Instead we had a slew of kids, food that turned out better than I expected and perfect camaraderie. My village came together strong around my baby girl and I couldn’t be more grateful.

Along this journey to having my first big house party, I learned a few new tricks. My cleaning/organization meditation podcast from http://www.mythoughtcoach.com was invaluable in keeping me motivated through piles and piles of stuff. It felt great to see and hear my friend’s reactions to my almost clean living room. I’m looking forward to seeing what I can do with the rest of my place.

My daughter was in all of her glory, playing with some of her favorite people, getting to drink soda, opening presents and on and on! It was exciting and sweet, and I was so happy for her. I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to pull off any party, let alone one that was pretty terrific. My girlfriends made new friends and I’m looking forward to seeing what new connections arise. As I reflected on a long, tiring and wonderful day, I couldn’t help but feel like I was under the influence of the rhythm of love.

I am falling asleep as I write this, but I am too happy to not post it tonight. Thank you ladies (and gentlemen) for making today absolutely perfect. We felt the love, shared in the laughter and had a beautiful life-affirming experience. Today, was a big old success!

I wouldn’t be surprised if I ended up humming myself to sleep.

Staying Present in the Moment

My baby girl turns 6 this week. The school year is coming to a close, I have to get my place in order for her birthday party, my workload has increased and I am still struggling to get all of my workouts in. I’m beginning to feel the pressure of the impending birthday activities. This year I had to tell my little one that a party at Chuck E Cheese or Bounce U was just not in the budget. We’ve talked about budgets a lot this year.

This was a difficult conversation for me because she had been looking forward to a party with her classmates all year.  What amazed me was her capacity to understand the situation and be open to finding joy in an alternate solution. We decided that instead of a big party, we would celebrate by having special mommy and me time (thank you Tanisha for the suggestion).  Looks like we’ll be going out for a manicure/pedicure or painting pottery – two things that have also not been in the budget.

We’ve had our share of financial ups and downs over the last few years, more downs than ups. My daughter is remarkable. As much as she asks for stuff like any other kid, she usually doesn’t want to burden me by having tantrums when I say we can’t afford something. I also make a point to let her know that if money weren’t an issue, I wouldn’t buy her everything she wanted. We talk about how money doesn’t buy happiness and that if she had all the toys in the world she wouldn’t appreciate them. Some days are better than others.

We agreed that instead of a big party, she could bring cupcakes into her school programs (to cover both programs we’re talking 60 cupcakes). Over the weekend she saw pink cupcakes that were decorated with handbags, high-heeled shoes and make up. This morning she asked if she could bring the “fashionista cupcakes” to school. I told her that they were too expensive because we needed a lot. As is typical with my little one, she asked if she could use her own money to buy them. This is always when my heart aches a little and my resolve weakens.

What do you say to that? It’s not like she has a lot of money, but she’s willing to cash in her piggy bank so she can have her cupcakes for her birthday.  I asked her if she’d rather have the cupcakes or a present from me because I couldn’t do both. Not surprisingly her answer was that she wanted a present. I used to feel badly about making her choose, but I have come to realize that it’s the only way I can determine how important something is to her.

I will get her one set of fashionista cupcakes for one of her classes, but the other class is getting the run of the mill mini cupcakes. As I strive to find balance this week, generate revenue and plan a party she will love, I will remind myself to stay present in each moment. My little girl will never be 5 again. That’s it. Poof. It’s gone. What’s left is the twinkle in her eye and the sparkle in her smile…if I am open, watching and waiting for the magical moment.

 

Spinning Again

Do you ever wake up knowing that you’re in trouble before your feet even hit the ground? That’s today. I haven’t gotten out of bed yet, I didn’t get enough sleep and I’m thinking about the day ahead. Today is a day where there are not enough hours to squeeze in all that I have to do. I’m back to the sensation of the performer spinning plates. I predict a few broken plates today. I’m not being negative, I’m being practical.

Days like today leave no room for error. I need to get my daughter off to school (while being a loving and patient mom), get out for my first real 5K training run since the race (which occurred over a week ago), fit about 10 hours of work into 2 hours time, attend a job fair (because something’s got to pay the bills), make dinner and then somehow split myself and my daughter in two so we can attend two school events being held at the same time at different locations.

After I excel at all of that I can come home and catch up on the laundry that got neglected over the weekend, put some time into writing my business plan, scour the web for freelance blogging opportunities and then sigh while I look at my messy place. I pray in the process no one calls with any crisis, that my daughter is happy and cooperative and that my spirit enjoys today’s obstacle course offerings. This is the kind of day I get to remind myself that life is precious.

Yes, life is precious. So while I am zipping through task after task or begging my daughter to listen so I can keep moving and achieve my goals, I also have to use at least one nostril to smell life’s bouquet. If this is it and we only get one pass at each day, I get to find the beauty and majesty in each moment. I will not run around like a crazed zombie. I will be focused, driven and open to any opportunities that might present themselves.