A hunting we will go…

Buying a home is not all its cracked up to be.
'How do you like it as a whole?' - 'As a hole it's fine. As a house it's lousy.'
If one more person tells me that this experience is supposed to be fun I might just lose my shit. Faith and I decided to try and buy last year. To quickly save money we decided to move in with our mom after the lease ran out on our house. Let me tell you nothing will motivate you to find a home or save money better than living at home/driving 14hrs a week. That’s been pretty miserable. Add on to that a commute with a toddler and it is just that much worse.

We have seen no less than three dozen homes, probably closer to four dozen but Faith could tell you exactly. This doesn’t even begin to factor in the ones that were off market or in contract when we tried to go see them. If you have a list of ten houses to see in an afternoon be prepared to sacrifice 3 hours and only see 8. On a typical house seeing day the first house might have no roof Information available and funky insulation but hardwood floors under the carpet and a nice backyard, the second house will have carpet with concrete underneath, funky 50s tile, need complete repainting, but have plenty of attic storage and large bedrooms. The third house your Realtor will have trouble with the lock box, the house will have a broken attic ladder, small rooms, linoleum, and best of all a drop away, dirt floor scary basement with no access other than a ten foot drop. House number four looks great on the outside, the neighboring houses are cute, the upstairs living area looks pretty good except the one round air vent running through one bedroom from the obsolete coal stove in the basement but when you get to investigating said basement it has an unadvertised unfinished bathroom and extra room with concrete floors, block walls, mold, a chair in the corner, a single light bulb and an unidentified stain on the floor. House number five is off the market, and house number six has unfinished floors. House number seven was gorgeous online but when you go to see it there is an old car with a flat tire in the garage area, a broken glass door, a two tone badly painted storage area all before you enter the house which is supposed to have a central unit but instead has a window unit insulated with trash bags, the floors are halfway finished and several windows have not been installed. House number eight only has one picture online which is never a good sign. When we arrive to see it we learn it’s occupied and the owners are home which is super awkward. The fuse box is also not up to code.

All of this happens with a screaming toddler after house four that ends up being bribed with a sucker.
And the hunting continues….

Growy Changy stuff

Lent Cartoon

I’ve been thinking about this for quite a while and it has been almost a year today since my last bit of writing was published. I don’t think anyone ever stops writing if that is something they enjoy but I shelved this blog last year for a hundred reasons only a few of which will I expound upon. Last year I was on the cusp of a divorce and that was all I wanted to write about which is kind of depressing. I felt like I might regret using this particular public avenue for that. A year ago today I was also pretty boring. I had sort of lost myself in babyland as lots of new moms do. Between new baby and new divorce all that was on my mind was how to keep from drowning.

My first divorce anniversary inst for another few weeks and my toddler wont have his second birthday for another month but I think I’ve gained enough perspective and have enough life going on to open myself back up to writing. So here I go.

I always like writing during Lent. There is something beautifully cathartic about this season. Lent is a time to grow and change (or at least that’s what I put on the bulletin board). We give things up or take things on for Lent in order to gain a closeness with God or to deepen our spiritual connection. Sometimes that is pretty great and it actually works. For instance I gave up Facebook which I have mostly stuck to. I have not posted anything since Lent began and I am beginning to think it might be a habit after Lent. The purpose of that was twofold. One, I could have more time to read and study the Bible that I usually wasted in internet land. It has definitely fulfilled that purpose. I feel like I waste much less time. The other purpose was to distance myself from the drama of other people. While Facebook, and social media in general may have had the original purpose of bringing us closer together I feel like it often drives me further away from people. I don’t want to know that some family member I love and respect could actually share the views of our current president. It makes me want to run far, far away. I’d rather not be solicited by eight different mom friends selling everything from lip products to weight loss shakes. I understand everyone has to make a living. Trust me I know the struggle, but its hard to not let something like that put distance between people. We see such a limited window of a persons soul on social media and frankly I would rather see that person in real life. I think they would be much better that way. We may not be as pretty, or as thin as our profile picture would suggest but in my experience we are much better human beings.

Here’s to actually finding the time to write again. Next week maybe I’ll share my house hunting experience (Its super hilariously awful)

Over and over

It’s 3am again. This particular time of night and I have become familiar in the last year. Poor little Carl has a stuffy nose so I am awake. He is finally drifting off after being put down twice and soothed for an hour. It’s funny. Well funny in a sad way, but when I thought about having kids in my teens and even in the last few years I always imagined night shift as my partners duty or at least having someone else there to watch the moments with me. A year of being a single mom has taught me a lot, including how rare that fantasy is. Even happily married women end up doing most of what I do which is pretty sad.

Imagine a world where instead of waking up with the baby every time he woke up that first year, someone else took some of the burden. And please don’t mistake my meaning, because there is not a whole lot of warm fuzziness to be found at 3am when you have to clear the snot from an unwilling babies nose by yourself while he screams like he is dying. I have had my mom or sister take him for a few minutes or a few hours while did something or slept a little, but every night of this first year, save one where I left him late and got him early, I’ve been dayshift, night shift, and everything in between.

I love this child. I didn’t make him alone, but somehow he became more mine than anyone elses. And that’s a pretty powerful thing. He and I have a bond. It’s probably fragile and definitely codependent, but it’s there. I’m a lover. I tend to love one person more than makes sense, or is healthy, or logical. Nothing will cure you of that quicker than a baby. I suppose my bit of encouragement for anyone, who like me is listening to the sounds of a toddler talk himself into going back to sleep, is that you can do it by yourself. And you will have to. That guy that was your rock, your special human who professed to love and adore you… He might, but it all might be smoke and mirrors and nothing will help you figure that out like a baby.

Babies are hard, but you can do it. Adulting is hard, but you can do that as well. And if your person isn’t who you expected or isn’t living up to what you need then dump that dude like a bad habit. You and that baby that keeps you up at 3am deserve better.

It’s 3am again. This particular time of night and I have become familiar in the last year. Poor little Carl has a stuffy nose so I am awake. He is finally drifting off after being put down twice and soothed for an hour. It’s funny. Well funny in a sad way, but when I thought about having kids in my teens and even in the last few years I always imagined night shift as my partners duty or at least having someone else there to watch the moments with me. A year of being a single mom has taught me a lot, including how rare that fantasy is. Even happily married women end up doing most of what I do which is pretty sad.

Imagine a world where instead of waking up with the baby every time he woke up that first year, someone else took some of the burden. And please don’t mistake my meaning, because there is not a whole lot of warm fuzziness to be found at 3am when you have to clear the snot from an unwilling babies nose by yourself while he screams like he is dying. I have had my mom or sister take him for a few minutes or a few hours while did something or slept a little, but every night of this first year, save one where I left him late and got him early, I’ve been dayshift, night shift, and everything in between.

I love this child. I didn’t make him alone, but somehow he became more mine than anyone elses. And that’s a pretty powerful thing. He and I have a bond. It’s probably fragile and definitely codependent, but it’s there. I’m a lover. I tend to love one person more than makes sense, or is healthy, or logical. Nothing will cure you of that quicker than a baby. I suppose my bit of encouragement for anyone, who like me is listening to the sounds of a toddler talk himself into going back to sleep, is that you can do it by yourself. And you will have to. That guy that was your rock, your special human who professed to love and adore you… He might, but it all might be smoke and mirrors and nothing will help you figure that out like a baby.

Babies are hard, but you can do it. Adulting is hard, but you can do that as well. And if your person isn’t who you expected or isn’t living up to what you need then dump that dude like a bad habit. You and that baby that keeps you up at 3am deserve better.

What a difference a year makes

I have an almost 1 year old.

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Go me! I kept him alive and fairly healthy a whole year!! I feel like that’s an actual accomplishment. We’ve had a few colds and one really nasty stomach virus but it’s been a great year.

Everything sort of flew by in a blur this year but I remember those first few minutes after I brought him home from the hospital. I was still living in a tiny apartment so things were crowded but it had beautiful windows. I opened the curtains, sat in the rocker with Harry Potter and the Sorcerers Stone, and read to him while he nursed and napped the afternoon away. That was the first peaceful moment I had found in days. I hated the hospital. I appreciated the care we recieved but being stuck in that room away from all of my familiar things was probably the hardest part of the birth experience for me.

This has been a year of learning, growing, and changing. I’m grateful for all the help I’ve had and for a healthy, happy kid. Whatever the future holds, may he have a hundred more years to grow and explore.

It’s getting really real

Proceed with caution. Things are about to get real.

I had a nice visit with a friend this morning. We talked and ate peanut butter crackers, and watched Carl walk everywhere and visited. It was great. Then we talked about the men in our lives.

I’m so close to my divorce I can taste it (if divorce had a taste :P). And that’s pretty great. In 11-26 days I will be completely free of this weight that has been pulling me down. However that doesn’t take away the scars. I’ve known women who stayed with men who cheated on them. I’ve listened sympathetically and thought “man, that sucks” or “that poor unfortunate woman” and in the back of my mind I wondered what it was they had messed up in their marriage for that to happen to them. That’s pretty terrible right? I know it is.

People cheat. It’s a fact. Most people cheat in one way or another long before the actual physical act and I knew I had been cheated on emotionally, and abandoned, and treated like something to be thrown away but I never wanted to deal with the reality that I had been physically cheated on. I wasn’t always as faithful as I could have been. I wasn’t always a great wife. I mothered too much. None of those things makes the rest of it OK. The reality of knowing that someone that was supposed to love me strung me along and did something so intimate with another woman, a woman that claimed to be my friend, is a mind fuck. Every memory is tainted by it. Every good gesture is up for questioning, every moment I have with my friend gets revisited in my mind so that I can drive myself crazy trying to figure out how I ignored this for so long.

I’m lucky. I know I’m lucky. I have a good life. I’m happy. I have the best part of what turned out to be a pretty shitty human. None of that changes the hurt I’m dealing with. Knowing that someone did that to you makes you question everything. My friend told me that it stays with you your whole life. Unfortunately she has been in the same boat. I hope it doesn’t stay with me. I hope given enough time and distance I can trust another human not to completely abandon me. I hope because I made the decision to break away, to run as far and as fast as I could from that particular bit of toxic sludge that it can be different for me. I hope that my little boy grows up respecting women as something more than sex objects, knowing what he has when he has it, and doesn’t think he is too old for his mother to embarrass if he is ever this much of a douche.

Growing things!

Today my child ate dirt. Like actually took it out of the  box and ate it. …

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But he is pretty cute. We gardened today. Well we got the dirt put in the box. I’ve got to add more and I want another box but I’m pretty excited about the square foot gardening thing. I want to grow and freeze veggies. I want fresh melons. I want Carl to pull weeds with me in a few months. I want to become a better gardener.

It feels good to want things again. Ive got tomatoes, peppers, herbs, watermelon and I want to get squash seeds to go withy cucumber and lettuce seeds. Go plant something!

Newness and such

I should be cleaning. This is the story of my life when Carl is not with me. I hate having a dirty house and I did clean a little, but then I got distracted by all the thoughts. Life has seasons. This is just one of many seasons. I got a new (to me) car today. Its pretty exciting. Faith and I won’t have to car share anymore which is pretty sweet. Car sharing is hard and it can be tricky.

car

Going through a divorce is difficult, but I think if you wrap your mind around it and if you take a lot of time to do that then it will be less difficult. At least that has been my experience so far. I know everyone has a different experience and while I acknowledge that I had a hand in the ultimate demise of the relationship I also think that I did everything I could to save a sinking ship and then I did the healthy thing by jumping off.

And now I get to live again. That’s the way life should be. If it isn’t working, try and fix it, if it can’t be fixed…give it away and move on. Don’t spend all your time dwelling on that other person. Let them live their life. If you have a child with them then you can’t help but dwell a little, I mean you have to see them on a regular basis. But don’t make that your whole life.  That is one my mantras these days. So far I think I am doing pretty good. I stay busy, I haven’t binged on cookies and ice cream, life is pretty good.

 

 

Too nice…hahahaha

Somewhere along the journey I became labelled “too nice”. And somewhere along the journey I stopped trusting my own instincts. I’ve come to terms with a lot of changes recently. My life feels like whirlwind. Little bunny is turning 1. I’m going to be officially divorced in 21-36 days. I’m getting a new to me car. I’m buying land. I’m apparently part of a convoluted chain of inheritance on some other land. No one is doing anything in Corinth about my father’s murder or if they are it’s a big fat secret they aren’t telling me. And I’m pretty sure in the 5+ years I’ve been out of the dating scene everything has changed. I mean everything. I don’t know how to do that any more.

I’m really not too nice but I do have a philosophy that I would like to share. How we act toward another person reflects on us not them so whether it’s an annoying driver who cuts us off in traffic or a co-worker who seems impossible to get along with, a friend who has been disloyal, or a spouse that cheats with your friend, how you treat that person reflects on you, not them. I fail. I fail all the time when I’m angry, or I give into bitterness, or I just forget to live because I’m dwelling on the misdeeds of another person but eventually I try to remember that kindness is not in vane. Compassion is always the best answer. Everyone is flawed and will eventually do something hurtful even if it is unintentional. So let’s all remember to be kind…and get over ourselves. I’m going to make that my mantra for a while.

Be Prepared!

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Humans like to be prepared.. I like to be prepared. When I found out I was pregnant I made a spreadsheet and filled it in based on what I thought I would need for Carl from now until he is an adult (basically). It has changed over the last year. It used to be all diapers, and baby furniture and tiny clothes and now it is about learning materials and clothes from now until size 8 (which considering he in in 12month clothes right now is pretty far out). I like to be prepared. If I do my taxes I mentally prepare myself to be audited. If I plan a party I prepare for no one and everyone to come so that when I get about halfway between that I will be prepared. I don’t let myself hope for things anymore, I simply prepare for the worst and if something good happens then all the better.

I prepared myself for a divorce. I spent a lot of time thinking about all the ways in which I could fix my marriage, what I had done wrong, how I could fix it, if this or that would just fall into place. I put a strange amount of hope into something I knew wasn’t fixable and more than that I probably wouldn’t want it even if it could be fixed. Then I prepared myself for the idea of being divorced. Or at least I thought I did. I started thinking seriously about divorce almost two years ago. I moved out. I did my own thing. I was almost ready, and then I found out I was pregnant. That put a whole bunch of other complications into the idea of divorce so I stopped thinking and preparing for a while. Then I had a sweet little exhausting newborn, infant, and then almost toddler. That time passes swiftly especially if you are trying to do most of it yourself. Inevitably I started thinking about divorce again. And then one day I saw something that just flipped the switch for me. I take a really long time to make a decision but once I do I am ready to do whatever it takes to make it happen.

So I saw a lawyer, and I payed all the fees myself, and I got the papers together, and I started the conversations and I pushed and pushed and cried a little. I got to feel unwanted yet again. I got to feel that pain of abandonment again. I got to feel the hope that seeing the light at the end of the tunnel will bring. And finally I got to sign the papers and so did he. Barring something terrible and given another 26-41 days and a judges signature I will be officially divorced.I will be under 30 and divorced. I thought I was prepared for how that would feel. I thought I would be sadder, and I am sad, but I am also relieved. I can live again. I mean I have been living, but not really for me, mostly for Carl. And don’t get me wrong I love being a mom, but I am also a woman and still a young one at that. This doesn’t have to be how my story ends I have a ton of story left to tell. I needed that realization. I need that to be reality. So while I still plan to be a great mom and a great employee and a great friend I can now also be a great me because I have all the parts of me back again.