Modern Mommy:

Breaking Up Is Hard To Do

Spending a little time on iTunes downloading break up songs... mmm wallowing in it today.  What are your favorites?

Happy New Year

This holiday season I have unwillingly paid special attention to television commercials. 

As it would happen, I have never had much control of the random and frequent outbursts that occur while my brain rushes franticly to send abort signals to my mouth.  This used to be charming but has ceased to entertain a small select few.  Although it continues to amuse those with whom I have never had the pleasure of introducing my to attorney.  I recently took up speaking directly to the TV.  This has become most common when I am alone.   I realized that since I lost what was left of the afore mentioned ability my other senses have taken up the slack and the creative sarcastic juices are slowly returning to their former flowing glory.

It began 2 short months ago as the retail holiday season pushed it's way into our lives before we had even unwrapped the first chocolate of Halloween...

Christmas is the time for wonder.  Family. Peace. Legal separation, child support and holiday cheer.  As we celebrate our own traditions old and new, we are greeted at least 3 or 4 times an hour by jewelry commercials.  Nothing says love, marriage and cash like a diamond.  But what can you give at the end of a marriage?  I asked aloud to the TV.  What gift says "I would divorce you all over again"?  Sadly, no answer came and the marital stocking hung empty upon Christmas morning.

As the New Year begins, I contemplate more of the future and less on the past I cannot change. Most days I stumble and trip over past habits but I am constantly surprised by how much easier it gets each time to stand up and move on.

Your Assignment For The Holiday

       Happy 4th Everyone!

Did I Ever Tell You?

I want to be a writer. I want to be a photographer. I want to be a graphic designer. I want to be a journalist. I want to teach. I want to be a leader. I want to be tall, thin and striking. I want to be normal. I want to be moved. I want to be noticed. I want to be seen. I want to scream. I want to be still. I want to be loved. I want to be understood. I want to chase leaves in the fall. I want to drive with the windows down. I want to stand at the ocean. I want to hope. I want to believe. I want to be wanted. I want to be needed. I want to learn. I want to make him proud. I want to feel peace. I want to feel safe. I want to make you laugh. I want to create art. I want to live in the moment. I want power. I want to grow old gracefully. I want to stand in the rain. I want to linger in cafes. I want to build something solid. I want to watch my children grow. I want to breathe in deep. I want to sleep peacefully. I want to hold my best friend's hand. I want to lay in the grass. I want to walk on the beach. I want to sail. I want to play beautiful music. I want to have life growing inside me again. I want to cherish myself. I want to chase dreams. I want to feel real. I want to watch candlelight. I want to stay young. I want to be silly. I want to be admired. I want to be a friend. I want to take sunday afternoon naps. I want to remember. I want to forget. I want to read. I want to cook. I want to do my wedding day all over again. I want to be inspired.

Just Thursday

There are a few words in the english language that will never be "acceptable" in polite conversation again. Sadly, this week we add Manifesto to the list. This word did not exactly invite the warm fuzzies before, but all respectable history and meaning has been stolen this week. I am so wrapped up in my own drama unfolding daily that I often turn a slightly chilled shoulder to the tragedies and horror that color our troubled world. I am lucky to be so loved and life goes on, as it should. So much more than words are stolen from us, so much more we give and sacrifice willingly - whole hearted and generous. We can be quick to judge those experiencing things we do not understand, but the outpouring I have witnessed lately in some of the communities I call my own, have touched my heart. Those who have reached out, taken my hand and firmly reminded me of my responsibilities and blessings. Made me believe in hope and selflessness. There is an awful lot to complain about, I am sure I will forget some of the lessons learned these last months, and the cynical me will post here about being cut off in traffic, the appliances in our home that are in their last days, the laundry that piles up, and the time I can never find enough of... The things that go unsaid with the ones I love. My own battles with my demons, the "monster" on my shoulder. Today, again and hopefully more often, I choose hope.

Go Some Place Where You Feel Most Like Yourself

Warning: this posts contains actual facts. Serious, boring and personal facts. Turn back if you are looking for a light laugh. There is still time.

Go as far away from this place as you can, go some place where you feel most like your self. Where I feel most like myself... Home is where I feel the most comfort. Home is defined by where ever my husband and children are. But where do I feel most like myself? That might be a simple question, but it assumes I know myself. My banner announces I am seeking to define myself in a selfless role. If you only knew. I, like so many others, have lost big pieces of myself in marriage and motherhood. But it is infinitely more complicated than that. Finally after confusion, depression, anxiety I have officially been diagnosed / labeled / permanently defined as bipolar. If you name something, if you identify it, study it and break it down - piece by heart wrenching piece, you can release the fear of the unknown. Unravel the mystery and coexist with your monster. If in naming the monster I could be forgiven, in small ways. If in attacking the monster, I could forgive myself. So, Internet, meet my monster. So I am talking about my monster, talking and talking. I am sick of myself, so bored and sick of my own thoughts, guilt, failures and regrets. Sick of apologies for things within and outside my circle of control. Circle or cycle of control, it just recycles on itself, feeding upon itself. So the talking... Counseling, friends and family. Everyone but the one person I want most, the person who has been hurt most.

Recently I was reminded,

"Hope, like dread, it often comes unannounced and then thankfully intoxicates us and inoculates our feelings with an irrational sense of joy and optimism."

Hope feels dangerous and intoxicating for me right now. Even when I was alone in my life, I wasn't. The many strings were firmly in place and I could tug on which ever one I needed. I suppose I went into marriage much the same way, new string - well attached. But the place I am in now forces, demands of me the thing I have never truly acknowledged was possible. Some more unidentified words that are not my own in creation, but I echo their sentiment...

"There are no shortcuts... in life, or in love. This pain must be felt, the alternative is much worse. It's what makes us special, what makes us beautiful, what makes us worthy. The pain of how we love. But that pain is accompanied by something else, isn't it? Hope. With your pain, there is hope. And that is where you are. Somewhere between agony and optimism and prayer. So, you're human. You're alive, and that's what we have."

So there are no shortcuts, no quick fixes. Just feeling the pain, fighting the urge to take away only the empty bitterness, maintaining the belief it serves a purpose and never stop looking for meaning - proof of growth and maturity.

In the weak moments, I have no perspective, no will to fight the aforementioned urges, just the need to lash out, to make all of this someone else's fault, to make someone the monster. Now, introspectively I seek hope and inspiration. If I could believe that the person typing these words could be the full time me. The every day, ordinary me. I watch our youngest toddle around, fall, then try again. I guess it is all about re-learning everything. Small steps. Small steps and lots and lots of good pharmaceutical assistance.

If there were separation between me and the monster. Maybe there is not supposed to be. Maybe I had it right, and coexistence is the key. The problem is the monster has many faces, many moods. Anger and anxiety. Selfishness and cruelty. Impossible expectations, and the inevitable disappointment that follows. The monster and I have used up all my second chances, have recklessly spent the currency of my relationships: communication, trust and respect. Only the three things a relationship cannot sustain itself without. If I could wrap these up and give them as gifts... If I could let go of all expectations and just live in the moment. I am missing so much that is right in front of me. Be the change I want to see.

Internet, if you are out there, out there coexisting with your monster, tell me how are you doing it? Does the happiness and peace come back? The fierce love of life and the individuality, maybe now duality. I see shadows of normalcy, whatever that means. Did you learn to truly stand on your own, to know that no one can fix it, make it all better, wish or will it away? Only you? Tell me your stories, comments or emails.