Mixed Feelings About Michigan

I’m really excited about this week. One of my old college roommates is getting married on Friday. So I’m flying out to Michigan to attend the wedding. However, my fiancé couldn’t get the time off of work so he will not be accompanying me to this one. (We’ll be flying out together to Missouri for another college roommate’s wedding in October.)

I’m really, really excited because I’ll get to see quite a few different circles of friends out in Michigan. I’ll be seeing one circle at the wedding, another the following Saturday morning and yet another Saturday evening. (I get to crash a bachelor party for my roommate who is getting married in October. I should also mention that this roommate is one of my brides men in my wedding next year.)

I’m really, really, really excited about getting to hang out with all my friends, and to hit up the night scene again. I can’t tell you the last time I actually went out bar hopping and was able to have a fun night out.

I however, am kind of bummed that my fiancé won’t be there with me. I kind of really did want to introduce him to my other life in Michigan. Especially since not all of my friends that I’ll be seeing will be able to come out for our wedding.

It’s rather weird and frustrating having so many different lives. I guess it comes naturally with moving around a lot and having so many different circles of friends in all the different areas that I’ve lived (Western and Eastern Michigan areas, Northern and Southern California and Oregon).

I also, kind of, wish that I could bring the boys with me for the trip. Older Boy had mentioned that he wanted to visit Kalamazoo (where I went to college) and that he wanted to fly on a plane. He of course also mentioned that he would like to visit Michigan during a time that it is snowing. I told him that if we did visit Michigan it would most definitely not be when it’s snowing. Four years of Michigan winters was just enough for this California girl. (OK, technically it was 3 ½ Michigan winters. I left right before a nasty snow storm came in 2005. But that was still enough for my liking!)

I know that one of these days we’ll all be able to all head out there and I can show off and introduce my new family. But I can promise you all now that despite my mixed feelings about my trip out there I will have a great time out in Michigan this weekend. So if you don’t hear from me for a couple of days, you’ll know why.

Watch out Detroit! I’m coming back!

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.

The Reality Check That Sucked

I have been having the hardest time writing this entry. I feel so very vulnerable, and I think that is a huge part of the problem. I think another part of the problem is I’m ashamed to write down some of the thoughts I had. Putting my thoughts down on paper has always made them more real. And I think I need to get them out. After all, it is after midnight and I do need to function tomorrow.

Last week was horrid! It was a combination of unbelievable stresses. All combined and I found myself past my breaking point. My patience was shot. Last week was my week of “I don’t know if I can do this” it was my week of “There is a reason why I don’t have children of my own yet” and it was a week of “You chose to be here so you had better figure it out soon because you’re sure as hell not getting a divorce once that ring goes on your finger” and it was most definitely a “I’m so over your damn divorce” kind of a week. [Whew, that wasn’t that bad.]

I blame myself for my fall. I dived into work and tried to accomplish far more than I was capable of. The problem really is that I wasn’t aware that I wasn’t capable of it. I’m Wonder Woman at work. There isn’t anything spectacular and amazing that I won’t take on and do magic with. I've participated in the launch of two websites, I've assisted in the launch of two others, I've made and directed webisodes, I've covered breaking news, and I've taken on multiple projects and completed them. I'm amazing at time maintenance and organizing my priorities. OK, maybe not as spectacular but I like projects. I like big projects. I like projects that take me down to the line. The adrenaline of completing a big project is so awesome!

And then last week happened...

I drove down to Orange County (about 7 to 8 hours) Sunday evening. Monday I woke up and did some work from my sister’s house, and then I drove in to the office to direct and participate in a video shoot (I filmed a public service announcement for an upcoming contest for the publications). I then sat down in front of the computer and edited that sucker. Around 3:30pm I finished up, got back in my car and drove back up to Nor Cal. I get back late to find out that Middle Boy stayed home from school that Monday because he was sick. Tuesday I wake up to find that he not only has a gnarly congested cough, but a gnarly ear infection (and I got to be the one that met their pediatrician for the first time without my fiancé, because he was running late trying to get there, which was nerve wrecking in itself when she mixed me up with Jane when she asked how my baby was doing). Wednesday I again had a combination of Middle Boy (who was feeling much better after taking his antibiotics and bouncing off the walls) and Younger Boy (who has started this phase where he had decided that he needs to ask permission for anything and everything from blowing his nose to going potty, and he’ll sit there asking and asking and asking until you acknowledge and give him permission). Not only that, but Thursday comes along and I’m recruited on to help launch one of the other upcoming websites. So I spend hour upon hour looking through pages, and pages, and pages of HTML … looking and deleting parts of codes and trying to figure out how it was even possible to mess up an HTML code so badly. By the time Friday came around I was ready to grab my keys, get in the car and drive. I don’t know where too, nor how far but I was ready to get the hell out.

Apparently, as much as I still feel like I’m Wonder Woman at work, I cannot pull off the double life any longer. I cannot function as a working-my-ass-into-the-ground career woman, and then double up as a working-myself-to-exhaustion-caring-for-sick-kids-doing-daily-household-things mother.

So there it is. I had a painfully exhausting (both physically and emotionally) excruciating reality check last week. My fiancé and I actually got to go out on two dates this three-day weekend. It just still didn’t help coming home to the same shit that was pushing me off the balcony in the first place.

It also didn’t help that Jane and her boyfriend have indeed both pissed me off. Her boyfriend has pissed me off by trying to say that the Parenting Plan arrangement Jane and my FH have made is no longer good because he’s changed the day he’s having his get-together day with his parents and he will not compromise, and I’m pissed with Jane for not standing up to that selfish idiot and saying “No, this is the plan and you’re going to have to figure something else out!” (Who ever would have thought that I would be willing to go to bat for Jane, and it’s not even that I’m batting for her but it's more I'm going to bat for the boys who I want to be able to spend some reoccuring and regular time with her. It also greatly irritates me when another’s Other is so selfish that he/she tries to make an ultimatum like that.) Maybe I’m still just in need of recovering from last week.

Back to the first paragraph…

I really felt ashamed, and horrible, and selfish that I even thought the whole ““I don’t know if I can do this. There is a reason why I don’t have children of my own yet” and “You chose to be here so you had better figure it out soon because you’re sure as hell not getting a divorce once that ring goes on your finger.”

All I kept thinking was “I thought I was prepared, I thought I could handle it, I thought I understood what I was getting into.” It meshed with “I can’t do this, I don’t want to do this, I’m so tired of doing this” and then melted into “I love my fiancé, I love the boys, I can’t not be with them” and that all trickled in with “I’m so sad that I still feel like an outsider, I’m so jealous that I don’t have that parent-child bond, I want that so badly.”

I really tried to prepare. I bought and read through books on step parenting. And I read all the words of wisdom and still, all of the homework I did before hand and pep-talks and “You can do it!” self-motivation didn’t prepare me for this.

This reality check shat on me like no other reality check has done before. And damn, have I been shat on before. And here I am, still pulling myself back up the muddy hillside because life just isn’t complete, or right, or whole without my fiancé and the boys in it.

It discourages me that the reality is that this is just a vicious cycle that can ambush me at any given moment again. The thing that has given me hope is the positive things I’ve had to remind myself of. Yes, I have to deal with Jane, I’m missing out on the parent-child bond, and I’ve missed out on all kinds of first things. But I’m the one that’s going to be here for all the other firsts that have come, and will come along. I was here when Younger Boy learned how to use the toilet and shunned the diaper away. I was here when Middle Boy read a book for the first time all by himself, and when he learned to tie his shoes. I was also here when Older Boy has needed to open up and talk about things, and when he found some confidence in himself and I get to watch him blossom out of his shell. I’m here for that, and that really is worth getting my butt knocked to the ground every now and then.

"Do you want me to tell you something really subversive? Love is everything it's cracked up to be. That's why people are so cynical about it. . . . It really is worth fighting for, being brave for, risking everything for. And the trouble is, if you don't risk anything, you risk even more." – Erica Jong

When the Tears Won’t Flow and the Words Won’t Come

I’ve experienced some pretty gnarly events in my lifetime. Some of the ones I would even have courage to share online would be the ex-boyfriend who tried to strangle me one New Years Eve because I said I didn’t love him. Another would be another ex-boyfriend who stalked me by calling and hanging up multiple times a day, and then would drive by my house to see if I was home and to see who I was with. A lot of these situations have hardened me. I’ve developed some pretty strong walls, I’ve learned to live rather emotionless at times because it was so much easier than feeling scared or anxious or frightened or sad or hurt, and at this point in my life it’s pretty frustrating. Especially since I've learned that life is too short to live in a fog of nothingness. I'd rather hurt than be numb.

The main problem is that whenever I am upset about something the feelings bottle themselves up. I try ever so hard to cry, to scream, to get angry and throw things … but none of it happens. The tears dry up, the emotions get swallowed down even more and I feel even worse. The walls go up and it’s becomes hard to decipher what the feeling/emotion is. It gets even harder to try and talk to someone about it. There have been many a times that I’ve gone to see a therapist or college counselor and I spent a majority of the time sitting there not saying anything much. The words just get caught in my throat, in my stomach and when I try to force them out they freeze. Then my brain goes blank and I can’t tell you why I’m upset, much less what’s going on in my head.

It’s always been so much easier to write it out, however, even trying to get them down on paper is hard lately. I think it comes back to me being hard on myself. I get angry or frustrated or sad by my current new situation, and then I feel guilty and selfish for feeling that way and I try my hardest to swallow it down. Not the best way to deal with it, I know.

Last night was one of those nights. I sat there feeling horribly down, and angry and I couldn’t tell my fiancé why. I felt the walls go up and I couldn’t stand being near anyone. So I slept out on the couch with the cats for a good majority of the night until I could relax a bit and crawl back into bed. I still couldn’t quite get it out this morning. I still can’t fully pick it apart. But I do know that one thing that has pushed me into this funk is that I just feel lost.

I don’t feel like I am who I used to be. I most definitely don’t live the life that I used to, but I don’t get the opportunity to be who I used to be either. I left my sister and my friends all behind. I work from home and I can’t seem to find anyone that I feel I can be myself around. It’s not that I feel that I’m being fake but, more I feel like I can’t be me. I don’t even know if I’m making sense, but this is my effort at trying.

I miss having a beer and watching a game with my guy friends. I miss having saki and sushi after work with my girl friends. I miss watching Paula Deen with my sister. I miss going to the bar or going to a party and socializing with people who enjoy drinking and socializing. I miss being able to have a dinner with people who will eat their food and not whine or throw fits. I miss joking around and I miss being able to be sarcastic around people. I feel pretty isolated here, and I don’t quite know how or where to go to try and feel comfortable again. It never occurred to me before that part of my anger and frustration was because of this.

I’ve tried talking about this with my fiancé once before. He suggested girls night out, except the girls that I know up here wouldn’t have the girls night out I’d imagine. The girls I know are either far wilder than I or far too conservative. I really hated living in Southern California, but I really loved the friends that I had there. I feel like I can be myself with my fiancé, but we don’t get much of a chance to have time to ourselves lately, especially with Jane only wanting two of the three boys visiting. The night he proposed to me was our first night out alone in a long time.

I kind of come down hard on myself about this. I remind myself all the time that “This is the choice you made, deal with it.” But I know that’s most definitely not the way to deal with it either. It goes back to trying to learn to balance things I guess (Struggling To Merge My Two Lives).

I know that this is just a funk that I’ll probably hit from time to time. But does it ever suck to hit it, and not be able to talk about it out loud. I look forward to being able to have a fun night again soon.

Struggling To Merge My Two Lives

“Every person, all the events of your life are there because you have drawn them there. What you choose to do with them is up to you.” ~Richard Bach, Illusions

My being here is still kind of strange at times. (I do realize that it's only Day 12 of my new life, and perhaps my expectations of where I ought to be are a bit high.) I’ve managed to get into a routine in balancing the kids and work. However, I’m still struggling in finding balance for myself. It’s like I have two lives still, and I’m having trouble merging them on a level.

Life One – Being the girlfriend living with a boyfriend, taking care of the kids, dropping them off and picking them up from school, making sure everyone takes naps if they need to, doing the domestic goddess routine of laundry, making meals, and making sure that homework gets done.

Life Two – Being the single career-oriented business woman I’ve always been, work-a-holic wanting to get done what can get done today instead of putting it off until tomorrow.

Like I said, I’ve managed to balance these two live together so that I get it all done. However, I guess on a mental mind level, I’m having trouble leaving my single, independent career oriented mind frame behind. It’s awfully stressful trying to let go of this identity that I have been for years, upon years, upon years. This is also at times, OK more often than just “at times”, quite frightening.

I feel like I’m circling in the sea of change trying to reinvent myself. Treading water furiously as I try to figure out and build up this new identity that I’ve thrown myself into.

I’m in a new skin, and I can’t quite figure it out. I guess I can compare it to a snake. I want these beautiful new colors to shine through, yet I’m not ready to full shed my old skin.

I’ve always been about business. I was my class secretary in high school for all four years, doubling up as the associated student body secretary and senior class secretary my senior year. In college I quickly got involved in Student government as a freshman and stepped up to a Vice Presidential position my sophomore year. In addition I was involved in sorority and was the CPA president, and the Features editor for the newspaper. And after I transferred to my other university I was a sorority alumnae volunteer, fraternity sweetheart and worked again on the newspaper staff. Even now, I’m still a region wide advisor in sorority, still somewhat active in volunteering and community service for the fraternity and sorority, and working a full-time job.

Am I overdoing it? Not really, for me at least. I realize that others couldn’t handle it, others wouldn’t want to handle it. But, oh, how I love the chaos of it.

And here I am. My reality is that I am no longer that single, career-oriented business woman. I’m more the career-oriented, nurturing, business instant mother. Except my mind frame is split between the single, career-oriented business woman and the nurturing instant mother. And on some days, it’s driving me up the wall.

The most successful moment I think I’ve had was when I made home-made playdoh for the boys. They were playing with the playdoh, I had a phonics CD playing on my computer and I was doing my work. Why can’t my poor mind run that smoothly every day?

Again, I remind myself that I chose this life. I want to be here and I want the boyfriend and these boys here. And, I guess it will just take some more time for me to rediscover myself and learn to balance and merge my two lives into one. Why does growing up take so long?

411 Miles

411 Miles … that is the distance that currently separates me from the boyfriend and the boys. (Technically 428 miles if I’m leaving from work.)

I didn’t know that it would be this hard to be so far from them. I guess it shows how much I’ve grown to care about all of them, and how much they’ve really become a part of my life.
11 Days is the countdown to when I move up to Nor Cal. And trust me, I’m counting down the days.

One of the things heavy on my mind lately is my commuting between my job and my life up there with them. It’s like having two lives. It’s an awfully long commute between what feels like home and having to go to work. 411 miles away.

Even more so, though, is that I don’t want the boys to ever get the impression that I’m going to leave and not come back. I’ve made sure to tell them when I’ll see them again, each time before I leave. I couldn’t begin to imagine what it would be like to be a child, and to have to try and process through my mind that my mother had left. Much less that she had chosen to leave and didn’t really care to have custody of me.

So it’s been very important to me that they know that I’m coming back, and that I want them in my life, without being overwhelming.

At first I got the half hugs … the kind of, “Oh, Crys is here” looks and glances. And it sucked. It royally blowed feeling like you’re the only one excited to be there. It’s like in college (or high school maybe) when you’re totally into a guy. And you put all your heart and effort into being there for him, helping him, caring for him. And then one day, you realize that he could care less if you (specifically you) are there or not.

But this … loving children that deserve as much love as you can possibly give … I know that it takes time. No matter how long it takes. And even with the risk of knowing that I may never receive it back, I’ve given them the best care that I know how and all of the love I possibly can give.

I was up in our new apartment this weekend moving some more stuff in. And, like all the other weekends until the big move, it came to the time when I had to pack my bags and head back down to go to work the next day. The boyfriend told them I was going to be leaving soon and Middle Boy innocently looked at me and asked “Who will care for us?”

It was funny and cute and painful at the same time. Funny because it was random, Cute because he was serious, and painful because I was leaving to go to work 411 miles away.

MB: “Who will care for us?”
Me: “Well, I’m going to fix some dinner for later this week. And your Daddy will take care of you until I get back. Is that OK?”
MB: “OK”

I felt rather important that day. Important, and loved, and needed and accepted.
To top it off, before I left I got three really good real hugs … from all three of the boys. And I think that’s a pretty good sign that maybe I’m doing something right. (Considering I’m winging it here.)

And even though I’m 411 miles away right now…those hugs bring a big smile to my face and I’m filled with warm fuzzies.