In Need Of Finding A Balance

I think the one thing that still really hits me hard is when I come to realize that I just can’t live life the way I used to. By that I mean that I can’t plan a get-a-way weekend to Michigan, a last minute lunch with my friends or even host a party. If I do then everything has to be planned well in advance because free reliable baby-sitters (my parents or my fiancé’s sisters) need some notice.

But this last weekend was a whole new smack of reality that I didn’t totally grasp until I was knee deep in it. In the little orchard/farming town I grew up in (high school days at least) they have an annual Youth Day celebration. I’m talking parade and a park full of fun, games and food. It’s usually capped off by bar hopping (all four bars in the little town – three of them on the same street right in a row).

I kind of knew that I wasn’t going to get to participate in the evening activities this year, but what I hadn’t accounted for was that I wasn’t going to be able to just walk around and find my friends either. Youth Day is one of those days that people flock back for. I got to see about three people because we ran into them. But I realized that I couldn’t explore like I normally would have. It just isn’t too practical when you have four kids in tow (Older Boy’s friend was with us) to walk around a people-packed park and then stop and try to catch up with people you haven’t seen in years/months.

I did it once and it’s literally because I ran into a very good friend of mine that I haven’t seen in years, but we keep in touch through e-mail now and then. My mom and my fiancé were standing with the kids when I saw my friend John. I had to walk over, give him a hug and we started catching up. We both had families in tow and it was one of those cramming chats. You know, where you try to cram about 8 months into 10 minutes because you really want to stand and try to catch up but you’re getting either looks from (his wife and sister) or you’re feeling pangs of guilt (because you see that the kids just aren’t having too much fun standing there).

Don’t get me wrong, we had a lot of fun. Younger Boy was my buddy for the day and we had a ton of fun playing the booth games and running through an air-inflated book worm. (He really got a kick out of the fact that you exited out of the worm’s butt.) Then by the time that the kids were running around the park it kind of hit me that we had to leave soon and I just didn’t have time or really the opportunity to go find my friends and say “Hi! Come meet my fiancé and my boys!”

I think I was also rather upset because I knew we were leaving so that my fiancé could go do his weekly guy things with his friends. Sometimes I feel like I've molded myself entirely around my fiancé and the boys' lives and that I don't allow time for me to have fun or do the things that I want to do because of that. I think something to work on this year is to try to find a balance where I'm not just completely bending back over so much to accommodate what they want versus what I'd like.

Back to the reality check though, I was rather bummed to say the least. My mother tried to comfort me with "It will be better next year." And I just really hope that we've found that balance by then.

I Want Off The Ride! Or At Least A Chance To Catch My Breath

I’ve been waiting to write this entry, as it’s another emotional and challenging one. So please consider this as your forewarning.

Once again, it was an exhausting ride on the emotional roller coaster this weekend.

The fury and wrath from Friday fizzled later on that night, especially after catching up with my god brother. I got to get all caught up on the details of his nasty divorce and after a martini and delicious food all was well. I talked to the boyfriend later that night and Saturday started off pretty well.

The Ride UP
We took the boys to the library to get them library cards. It was really pleasant to see how excited they got when we went inside. Younger Boy automatically started looking for Thomas the Tank Engine books. Older Boy and Middle Boy sort of just looked around in awe. I pointed Middle Boy in the direction of some Curious George books and older boy sat down with a book, that he enjoyed so much he’s read about six or seven times since we brought it home.

Then we went to a little mom and pop candy shop/ice cream parlor that has been around town for years. Boyfriend felt it was necessary to get me some coconut covered in dark chocolates and we got the boys some very good sinful tasting ice cream.

Then the boyfriend and I got to go out to dinner with my parents, we had the dessert (homemade cheesecake) first, and had a rather good night.

The Ride DOWN
Well, the boyfriend and I were out to breakfast Sunday when we got word that the boys’ mother was in labor at the hospital. My stomach soured and a sudden sadness flowed over me like a fog. In fact, I seemed to absolutely stew in it … and I didn’t quite know why it was there.

We got home and I had to get out on my own. I grabbed the keys, hopped in my car and just started driving. I didn’t know where I was going. I just knew that I had to know what was causing this sadness. About halfway to where I thought I was going (about 25 minutes later) it hit me.

The sourness was jealousy that she was having another child, the sadness was almost mourning for a child that I had convinced myself that I wasn’t going to get to have.

Let me explain this. The question of “Are you two going to have children” has come up plenty of times. In my heart, of course I want to have a child one day. I want nothing more that to experience this bond between parent and child that I have observed in both the boys and their undying love for their mother and between the boyfriend and the boys.

But in my head, right now and for quite some time, it would be financial suicide. The boyfriend and I both have student loans and of course some sort of debt. Who doesn’t? But, when you have three growing boys to care for on top of it, adding a possible one or two more children (as my generation in my family my cousins have been having twins left and right) just isn’t smart. In my head, I know that it’s going to take a couple of years to get us financially stable enough to even consider having a child. And, personally, I don’t want to have any children past the age of 31. I’m 27 now.

I could blame the no-longer-existing-old-school Plan on this I think. I would most definitely like to be married before we even consider having children. And in the Plan my children would be no more than three or four years apart from each other. Having a child that much younger than the boys really just makes me uneasy. I guess from years of experience I’ve seen success and I’ve seen failure in much younger children with much older siblings. And I just don’t want it.

So I was sad, and bitter, and jealous of the girl. And of course, quite angry at myself. "Get Over It!" I yelled at myself. Of course that didn't work out too well. There she was, getting to have another child. While here I was, sacrificing and taking care of the three she decided she didn’t want to be responsible for.

“It’s not fair. What about me? When do I get to have something that I want?” I thought.

And I cried. I cried a lot. I cried practically all night. And I slept horribly. And the next day I got to hear all about Mommy’s baby. How cute he is. How soft his skin is. How little he is.

And I could only swallow my sadness and smile. You take the good with the bad when you make a choice. And you must accept all aspects of the choices you make. (I feel this is my mantra lately. Maybe I should start a club. We can make jackets.)

Will we ever have children? Who knows, it’s possible. But right now I know that it wouldn’t be the smart thing to do. Nor would it be the right thing or the responsible thing to do. And I’d much rather be childless than struggling each month just to be able to provide for the boys, the cats and us. This is either just a new obstacle I will have to learn to deal with or a new fact I’ll have to learn to accept … for now ... and eventually learn to let go of.

In the meantime, I will enjoy my new smell that I got from Bath & Bodyworks. They apparently discontinued my old smell, so I had to find a new smell. And I have oh, so been enjoying it in the form of bubble bath and after shower. Show yourself self love and pamper yourself with a nice treat when it seems like there’s no way out.

The Little Green Bolt

So I had something rather positive to write about tonight, and then I talked to the boyfriend on the phone, and I don’t really feel like writing about it anymore. I don’t want what I’m feeling now to taint it.

The boyfriend and the three boys were supposed to all come down this weekend to see me. Well, now it’s just the boyfriend and one of the boys, because the other boys are going to stay at their “Real Mom’s” house (as she was called tonight by one of them). What sucked even more was being told:

“I pulled them aside individually and asked them, ‘Do you want to go down to see Crys or do you want to stay here with Mommy?’”

Well, we all can figure out what each of them said. So Older Boy is coming down here to see me, and Middle Boy and Younger Boy are staying up there.

I’m not quite sure what upsets me more. That fact that I don’t get to see all three of them (because I really was looking forward to seeing all of them) or that two of them didn’t want to come see me.

It makes me feel rather sad and bummed and a bit jealous. And man, I hate feeling jealous. That little bolt of green does nothing but make my stomach turn sour. And damn, I’ve had to fight that little bolt of green a lot lately. It makes me feel so immature and childish and high school drama-ish. But it’s there, and it’s a feeling, and I can only continue to tell myself that maybe, one day, it will finally go away.

I feel that little bolt of green for a lot of things. And they all seem really stupid.

My Top 5 Stupid Reasons (Occurrences) of the Little Green Bolt:

1. I wasn’t his first wife
2. Those kids aren’t mine and (technically) never are going to be
3. That the mere mention of “her” from his lips seems like a kick in the stomach (whether the mention is negative or revolting)
4. That “Our Real Mom” compared to “Our Step Mom” just sounds so less nasty and icky and feels like an ever swifter kick to the stomach (perhaps with a steel-toed boot)
5. That I have to share my new life with her, in some capacity, and it’s more of an ultimatum than a choice. (Either I have my boys or I don’t. If I do she’s there and if I don’t none of them are there.)

I should be my positive self, and focus on the fact that Older Boy DID want to come see me. But no, that damn little green bolt is insisting that it stay in my mind and heart just a bit longer. So here I am, deciding which book I’m going to read so that I can get my mind off of it. Reminding myself “This is the life you chose” and trying to convince myself “Maybe this will get easier one day.”