They sit in the chair next to the table with his picture. Addie picks up the picture and the following conversation ensues:
Addie: "Allie, give him kiss."
Allie kisses the picture
Addie: "Now hug"
Allie leans into the picture as if to hug him
Addie: "Oh, so sweet to daddy!"
The only thing I want to give them in this world is the unconditional love they deserve from the man who matters the most. Their father. And I can't, and no substitute will ever be good enough in my eyes. Granted, anyone who becomes a part of this family will be the only father they will ever know and remember in that role. And for that reason, I understand that they won't know the true difference. But I do. And it breaks my heart. It kills me that they will come to know and love someone as their father, but to that person they will always be his step-children. It feels lopsided and unfair for them as they will have unconditional love and adoration for the only "father" they've ever known because they don't have a comparison, but that person I fear can't ever have the same unconditional love and adoration because they are not his.
I've said it before and I'll say it again....how do you ever come to accept second best for your children?
I am a working mom of identical twins, a recent widow, and an over-achiever in everything I do. Is my life hard? You betcha. Do I struggle? Of course I do. Am I incredibly blessed? Absolutely!
Showing posts with label single parenting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label single parenting. Show all posts
Saturday, April 21, 2012
Monday, February 13, 2012
Answers...
We do cuddles on the couch every night before bed and as we walk to their room we say goodnight to a picture of Daddy and ask him to bring us sweet dreams. Usually the girls kiss the picture and say "night night Daddy". We've always done this ritual despite the fact that he is really only an abstract being to them. I have always felt it was important for them to know him in some sense, even if it's just in pictures.
Over the weekend while we were doing cuddles on the couch Addie blurted out, "I need daddy." I didn't really know how to respond at first and she said it again, to which I replied, "I know baby, I need daddy too." She seemed content for a few minutes but then kept on saying she needed him in a yearning way. I don't know what prompted it. I asked her if she wanted to go see his picture and give it kisses, but that would not appease her. Then she went down the list of her favorite people as she often does, and asked if they were coming over.
"Is Shay Shay coming?" I tell her no.
"Is grandma Coco coming?" I tell her no.
"Is Daddy coming?" No, he's not coming either.
I put her to bed and spiraled into a dark place. A place I have not been for many months. The kind of pain that literally hurts in your chest and takes your breath away. There is no pain as great as that you feel for your own children when there is absolutely nothing you can do to ease theirs. When there are questions to which you have no decent answer. Nothing makes you feel more inadequate.
He is on her mind a lot these days. Later in the weekend she drew a picture and said she wanted to show it to him. Today when I picked her up from school she pulled out a piece Valentine artwork she made and said she wanted to show him that too. Then on the drive home she handed me a piece of paper from her school folder and said it was "for Daddy".
I knew the day would come that they would have questions, or would realize that they are different in that they don't have a father in the way other children do...I just didn't think it would be so soon. I know this is something that will continually come up over the years as they hit each new developmental stage and begin to understand his absence in different ways. I just hope the answers start to come a little easier...
Over the weekend while we were doing cuddles on the couch Addie blurted out, "I need daddy." I didn't really know how to respond at first and she said it again, to which I replied, "I know baby, I need daddy too." She seemed content for a few minutes but then kept on saying she needed him in a yearning way. I don't know what prompted it. I asked her if she wanted to go see his picture and give it kisses, but that would not appease her. Then she went down the list of her favorite people as she often does, and asked if they were coming over.
"Is Shay Shay coming?" I tell her no.
"Is grandma Coco coming?" I tell her no.
"Is Daddy coming?" No, he's not coming either.
I put her to bed and spiraled into a dark place. A place I have not been for many months. The kind of pain that literally hurts in your chest and takes your breath away. There is no pain as great as that you feel for your own children when there is absolutely nothing you can do to ease theirs. When there are questions to which you have no decent answer. Nothing makes you feel more inadequate.
He is on her mind a lot these days. Later in the weekend she drew a picture and said she wanted to show it to him. Today when I picked her up from school she pulled out a piece Valentine artwork she made and said she wanted to show him that too. Then on the drive home she handed me a piece of paper from her school folder and said it was "for Daddy".
I knew the day would come that they would have questions, or would realize that they are different in that they don't have a father in the way other children do...I just didn't think it would be so soon. I know this is something that will continually come up over the years as they hit each new developmental stage and begin to understand his absence in different ways. I just hope the answers start to come a little easier...
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Co-parenting?!?!?
The daycare called me today and said they wanted to run and idea by me. They wanted to see how I felt about separating the girls and allowing Addie to move up to the next class. She is now potty-trained, and developmentally and cognitively ready to be challenged a bit more. Allie is not yet potty-trained (one of the requirements to move up), and her language is still a tad bit behind Addie's so she's not quite ready. I obviously have mixed feelings about this. It's a BIG decision in the twin world, whether or not to separate the kids, and especially when they are this young.
Later in the day, I ran all this by "the boyfriend" (sounds so silly at this age to say boyfriend). He listens as I explain what the daycare told me and then is silent. "Do you have an opinion?" I ask. "Yes." he replies. I wait through a long pause before saying, "Well, are you gonna share it with me?". He smiles and begins to talk. We discuss the topic, both offering opinions on the matter, discussing the pros and cons for each girl, and come to the conclusion that I should let Addie move up. It's not fair to hold her back from progress just to be with Allie, and furthermore, Allie can move up as soon as she's potty trained. Plus it may afford them some independence and help them not be so nit picky with each other in the evenings if they haven't spent the entire day together at school.
As he and I are discussing this, a HUGE realization hits me...actually several realizations hit me.
1. The first being that it is so surreal to be talking to another man about my children as though they are his. Asking for his input and advice as though we are co-parenting. Actually it's weird to be talking to anyone about major parenting decisions. My normal course of action is to make the decision myself then talk it over with those I trust to see if they agree...never I have done the reverse to try to come to a joint conclusion. I never got the opportunity to discuss a parenting dilemma with Andie- he was gone before any major decisions had to be made for them.
2. I realize that I have made a HUGE step in the trust department if I was actually willing to let my guard down and consult him in this manner instead of doing it all myself as a single parent. It was such a relief to include someone else in the decision making instead of shouldering the pressure and burden alone. More and more I realize I am letting him into my private world and it actually feels good. I want to share the load with someone. I'm really comfortable with it. And so is he.
I share all of this with him...that I think it is a big step for me to include him in this discussion rather than just make the decision myself as it shows that I am opening up and trusting more....he says he knows this already which is why he chose not to offer his opinion in the beginning until I specifically asked him for it.
That's when realization 3 hits me...this guy really gets me and understands how I tick. He knows me so well that he knew he couldn't cross that boundary with me until I offered the invitation. He respects the limits I have and doesn't push me outside my comfort zone. He just supports me where I am at the moment.
That is a level of trust, communication, and respect that I am proud to have in my life, and excited to have in my relationship. I guess this one's gonna be a keeper. ;)
Later in the day, I ran all this by "the boyfriend" (sounds so silly at this age to say boyfriend). He listens as I explain what the daycare told me and then is silent. "Do you have an opinion?" I ask. "Yes." he replies. I wait through a long pause before saying, "Well, are you gonna share it with me?". He smiles and begins to talk. We discuss the topic, both offering opinions on the matter, discussing the pros and cons for each girl, and come to the conclusion that I should let Addie move up. It's not fair to hold her back from progress just to be with Allie, and furthermore, Allie can move up as soon as she's potty trained. Plus it may afford them some independence and help them not be so nit picky with each other in the evenings if they haven't spent the entire day together at school.
As he and I are discussing this, a HUGE realization hits me...actually several realizations hit me.
1. The first being that it is so surreal to be talking to another man about my children as though they are his. Asking for his input and advice as though we are co-parenting. Actually it's weird to be talking to anyone about major parenting decisions. My normal course of action is to make the decision myself then talk it over with those I trust to see if they agree...never I have done the reverse to try to come to a joint conclusion. I never got the opportunity to discuss a parenting dilemma with Andie- he was gone before any major decisions had to be made for them.
2. I realize that I have made a HUGE step in the trust department if I was actually willing to let my guard down and consult him in this manner instead of doing it all myself as a single parent. It was such a relief to include someone else in the decision making instead of shouldering the pressure and burden alone. More and more I realize I am letting him into my private world and it actually feels good. I want to share the load with someone. I'm really comfortable with it. And so is he.
I share all of this with him...that I think it is a big step for me to include him in this discussion rather than just make the decision myself as it shows that I am opening up and trusting more....he says he knows this already which is why he chose not to offer his opinion in the beginning until I specifically asked him for it.
That's when realization 3 hits me...this guy really gets me and understands how I tick. He knows me so well that he knew he couldn't cross that boundary with me until I offered the invitation. He respects the limits I have and doesn't push me outside my comfort zone. He just supports me where I am at the moment.
That is a level of trust, communication, and respect that I am proud to have in my life, and excited to have in my relationship. I guess this one's gonna be a keeper. ;)
Labels:
co-parenting,
dating,
new relationship,
single parenting,
twins,
widow
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Fill the hole...
I’m halfway through the second year. I still can’t believe that much time has passed already. They say the second year is harder and in some ways I completely agree. There are still so many little things that are like a slap in the face and remind me that the life I had is gone.
The other day I was filling out some paperwork and the marital status section didn’t have “widow” as an option. I used to hate checking the “widow” box but this time I felt incensed that I didn’t get the choice. I am not married. I am not single. I am not divorced. I do not identify with any of these and I felt irritated that “half of me was unexpectedly stripped away without my consent” wasn’t an option. So I scrawled “widow” in and moved on.
I also had to fill out some medical information sheets for the girls. I got to the parent information section and under “father” I write “deceased”. The next half of the page remaining blank because I do not need to fill in his address, contact information, insurance data, place of employment or any other mundane detail about him that no longer exists. The blank page staring back at me is like a metaphor for my life…everything is going just fine and then there’s a big blank spot all of a sudden where he is just not there anymore. Like the moments when the girls do something remarkable or funny and I think, “Andie needs to see this,” but of course he doesn’t because he’s just not there.
I got my yearly renewal policy for my home owner’s and auto insurance in the mail. I open it and see that they hadn’t dropped his name off of the documents even though I called them months ago to rectify this situation. I call and re-explain that he died and it is just me now. They are embarrassed for the mistake and offer condolences. I find myself trying to make the lady on the phone feel better because she feels so bad. This happens often…I find myself saying in these situations, “No really, it’s okay.”
I get some form in the mail from Social Security that wants me to document how I’ve spent the benefits I receive for the girls. Frankly, I feel it’s none of their business. Parents receiving child support don’t have to answer to anyone regarding how they spend their money…why does the government have the right to pry into my life in such a manner? The money he earned and contributed to Social Security is rightfully mine to do what I want with it… though of course if they must know I spend it on exorbitant child care costs consisting of both daycare and a nanny in the mornings to get the girls off to school because I can’t manage to do the carpool by myself and still get to work on time. I spend it on food, clothing, medical care, and shelter for my children- things they need to survive. I spend it on family vacations in the hopes that I can create some happy childhood memories for them. I spend it on maintaining some semblance of a normal life for them.
I struggle with this hole in my life, this absence of him, this blank page to fill. On one hand I’m sick of having these little moments keep bubbling up to remind me of what I’ve been through. But on the other hand I don’t want the alternative, which is to fill the spot, to check a different box, to let go...
The dilemma of wanting my children to experience a family unit and have a father figure versus wanting to eternally preserve this sacred spot for him and not allow someone else to fill that role is almost a constant struggle. It’s hard to let my guard down and imagine that I could love someone like that again and run the risk of going through all this for a second time…
But I'm learning to let someone new in, and each day a piece of that wall comes down and I see the hope and joy of what it could be like to actually fill the hole...
The other day I was filling out some paperwork and the marital status section didn’t have “widow” as an option. I used to hate checking the “widow” box but this time I felt incensed that I didn’t get the choice. I am not married. I am not single. I am not divorced. I do not identify with any of these and I felt irritated that “half of me was unexpectedly stripped away without my consent” wasn’t an option. So I scrawled “widow” in and moved on.
I also had to fill out some medical information sheets for the girls. I got to the parent information section and under “father” I write “deceased”. The next half of the page remaining blank because I do not need to fill in his address, contact information, insurance data, place of employment or any other mundane detail about him that no longer exists. The blank page staring back at me is like a metaphor for my life…everything is going just fine and then there’s a big blank spot all of a sudden where he is just not there anymore. Like the moments when the girls do something remarkable or funny and I think, “Andie needs to see this,” but of course he doesn’t because he’s just not there.
I got my yearly renewal policy for my home owner’s and auto insurance in the mail. I open it and see that they hadn’t dropped his name off of the documents even though I called them months ago to rectify this situation. I call and re-explain that he died and it is just me now. They are embarrassed for the mistake and offer condolences. I find myself trying to make the lady on the phone feel better because she feels so bad. This happens often…I find myself saying in these situations, “No really, it’s okay.”
I get some form in the mail from Social Security that wants me to document how I’ve spent the benefits I receive for the girls. Frankly, I feel it’s none of their business. Parents receiving child support don’t have to answer to anyone regarding how they spend their money…why does the government have the right to pry into my life in such a manner? The money he earned and contributed to Social Security is rightfully mine to do what I want with it… though of course if they must know I spend it on exorbitant child care costs consisting of both daycare and a nanny in the mornings to get the girls off to school because I can’t manage to do the carpool by myself and still get to work on time. I spend it on food, clothing, medical care, and shelter for my children- things they need to survive. I spend it on family vacations in the hopes that I can create some happy childhood memories for them. I spend it on maintaining some semblance of a normal life for them.
I struggle with this hole in my life, this absence of him, this blank page to fill. On one hand I’m sick of having these little moments keep bubbling up to remind me of what I’ve been through. But on the other hand I don’t want the alternative, which is to fill the spot, to check a different box, to let go...
The dilemma of wanting my children to experience a family unit and have a father figure versus wanting to eternally preserve this sacred spot for him and not allow someone else to fill that role is almost a constant struggle. It’s hard to let my guard down and imagine that I could love someone like that again and run the risk of going through all this for a second time…
But I'm learning to let someone new in, and each day a piece of that wall comes down and I see the hope and joy of what it could be like to actually fill the hole...
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
heartache...
The girls have been particularly interested in Andie's picture again lately. I find them often standing near it. Talking to the picture, gesturing, waving, carrying it around, kissing it...
I watch how they interact with the men in their lives. Their grandfather, uncle, male friends of mine, even how they were with the new guy. They love to curl up and cuddle with a big guy, they love to horseplay and be silly with a man, they crave the kind of interaction with a male that I can't provide.
It will only be another year or so before they realize they don't have a father and the questions will start.
My heart hurts for that day...
I watch how they interact with the men in their lives. Their grandfather, uncle, male friends of mine, even how they were with the new guy. They love to curl up and cuddle with a big guy, they love to horseplay and be silly with a man, they crave the kind of interaction with a male that I can't provide.
It will only be another year or so before they realize they don't have a father and the questions will start.
My heart hurts for that day...
Monday, June 20, 2011
Heavy...
I felt like I was on an upswing for a while but something washed over me today. Things were getting better, but as is the case with grief, it comes in waves. You can only ride the crest so long before it crumples beneath you.
There is a new relationship to look forward to, new hope for the future. Maybe, just maybe, the girls and I will have a complete family someday. Or maybe not, I feel so uncertain. Relationships are hard. They take a lot of work. I’m not sure if I have the emotional strength and fortitude to devote to it as the great man deserves; I’m not sure I believe in myself and my abilities to cope anymore. I feel weak and doubt myself. I don’t want to give up on the hope of happiness. I’m just feeling like I’m not good enough to make it through the tough stuff. I’m feeling overwhelmed with single parenthood. I’m feeling tired of spending the evenings in silence because there is no one to here to talk to. I’m tired of feeling needy and desperate for attention and reassurance. I’m tired of worrying about what the rest of the world thinks and trying to please others, or grieve the "right" way in the "right" time. I feel indignant that this is the hand I’ve been dealt. I feel guilty that I did not have the guts to visit the cemetary on the one year anniversary, nor on father's day; back to back days that were just too much. Will he think I'm a coward? Will he think I have moved on past the point of caring? Is he even there?
I feel dark, despondent, and discouraged….
I just want it all to get better now. I’ve made it through a year. When is enough, enough?
Grief feels so heavy tonight.
There is a new relationship to look forward to, new hope for the future. Maybe, just maybe, the girls and I will have a complete family someday. Or maybe not, I feel so uncertain. Relationships are hard. They take a lot of work. I’m not sure if I have the emotional strength and fortitude to devote to it as the great man deserves; I’m not sure I believe in myself and my abilities to cope anymore. I feel weak and doubt myself. I don’t want to give up on the hope of happiness. I’m just feeling like I’m not good enough to make it through the tough stuff. I’m feeling overwhelmed with single parenthood. I’m feeling tired of spending the evenings in silence because there is no one to here to talk to. I’m tired of feeling needy and desperate for attention and reassurance. I’m tired of worrying about what the rest of the world thinks and trying to please others, or grieve the "right" way in the "right" time. I feel indignant that this is the hand I’ve been dealt. I feel guilty that I did not have the guts to visit the cemetary on the one year anniversary, nor on father's day; back to back days that were just too much. Will he think I'm a coward? Will he think I have moved on past the point of caring? Is he even there?
I feel dark, despondent, and discouraged….
I just want it all to get better now. I’ve made it through a year. When is enough, enough?
Grief feels so heavy tonight.
Saturday, June 18, 2011
At a loss...
365 days have passed. For the first time in a long time I feel at a loss for words. This day is not what I expected it to be. It did not feel heavy and dark as I anticipated. Strangely, it has felt almost like any other day in this journey. Just another 24 hour period to get through. Just another succession of steps- one foot in front of the other.
The first post I did after Andie died stills seems appropriate after a whole year has passed…
Originally posted 09/5/10:
"So it's been a while since my last post. You've probably noticed a lot has changed on my blog. Well, that's because a lot has changed in my life. Andie passed away on June 18, 2010 and left me with two beautiful daughters to raise. It's taken me a few months to feel like I have my feet back on the ground and even that seems only momentary.
I considered not blogging anymore but have decided that it's a good way for everyone to keep up with how me and the girls are doing- I know you're all wondering. Raising twins is hard, but raising twins as a single parent is TOUGH- and humbling.
I've learned a lot about myself in the past few months. I've had to ask for help more than I'm comfortable with, I've had to compromise on a lot of things, and I've had to adjust my life plan. I've learned that I have more love and support than I ever knew was possible, but I've also learned that all of that seems inconsequential when you've lost your other half. I've learned that grieving for your spouse is just a small piece of the picture. You also grieve the loss of who you were as a wife, the loss of your hopes and dreams, the loss of the future you had planned, and most of all you grieve for your children and how they will never know and experience their dad as you did.
People often ask how I am doing. The truth is: it depends on the moment, the day, the hour, what song is on the radio, what street I'm driving on, or who's asking. I'm doing as well as I can with what I've been given. My girls are my saving grace and keep me looking forward to the next moment, day, or hour..."
The first post I did after Andie died stills seems appropriate after a whole year has passed…
Originally posted 09/5/10:
"So it's been a while since my last post. You've probably noticed a lot has changed on my blog. Well, that's because a lot has changed in my life. Andie passed away on June 18, 2010 and left me with two beautiful daughters to raise. It's taken me a few months to feel like I have my feet back on the ground and even that seems only momentary.
I considered not blogging anymore but have decided that it's a good way for everyone to keep up with how me and the girls are doing- I know you're all wondering. Raising twins is hard, but raising twins as a single parent is TOUGH- and humbling.
I've learned a lot about myself in the past few months. I've had to ask for help more than I'm comfortable with, I've had to compromise on a lot of things, and I've had to adjust my life plan. I've learned that I have more love and support than I ever knew was possible, but I've also learned that all of that seems inconsequential when you've lost your other half. I've learned that grieving for your spouse is just a small piece of the picture. You also grieve the loss of who you were as a wife, the loss of your hopes and dreams, the loss of the future you had planned, and most of all you grieve for your children and how they will never know and experience their dad as you did.
People often ask how I am doing. The truth is: it depends on the moment, the day, the hour, what song is on the radio, what street I'm driving on, or who's asking. I'm doing as well as I can with what I've been given. My girls are my saving grace and keep me looking forward to the next moment, day, or hour..."
Labels:
anniversary,
grief,
loss,
love,
pain,
single parenting,
twins,
widow
Monday, June 13, 2011
feel better...
The weight of this week is bearing down on me. I am irritable and lack patience with the girls today because I am stressed and worried about all the things I need to accomplish this week. I try to remain calm with them but am appalled at my own behavior and how quickly I get angry at them for minor things. How many times can you tell a toddler "no" before they finally get it?
I have come to the realization recently that I can't do this alone anymore, and do it well. I don't want to do this alone anymore. I don't want to be a single parent. I'm tired of it. I don't want the girls to be raised in a single parent household. I cannot be a good mother to them without help, as hard as that is for me to admit. I need a co-parent, a partner, a support system that doesn't come and go a couple of nights a week. I need someone who will have my back and be there to emotionally support me, so that I can be healthy enough to emotionally support my children. It's not fair to them that I am tired and overwhelmed most of the time because they end up bearing the brunt of it. This, I am not okay with. Paradoxically, I find myself behaving in some of the ways that I used to get angry with Andie for when he lost his patience. Funny how that happens isn't it? I guess when you are left to take on the role of both parents you step right into those shoes...no matter how uncomfortable they may be. Because you don't know any other way to do it, really.
I just want to feel better.
About my life.
About my parenting.
About my future and theirs.
About myself.
"Just Feel Better" by Aerosmith and Santana
she said i feel stranded
and i can't tell anymore
if i'm coming or i'm going
it's not how i planned it
i got a key to the door
but it just won't open
i know i know i know
part of me says let it go
that life happens for a reason
i don't i don't i don't
because it never worked before
but this time
this time
i'm gonna try anything to just feel better
tell me what to do
you know i can't see through the haze around me
and i'd do anything to just feel better
i can't find my way
god i need a change
and i'd do anything to just feel better
any little thing to just feel better
she said i need you to hold me
i'm a little far from the shore
and i'm afraid of sinking
you're the only one who knows me
and who doesn't ignore that my soul i weeping
i know i know i know
part of me says let it go
everything must have its season
'round and 'round it goes
every day's the one before
but this time
this time
i'm gonna try anything to just feel better
tell me what to do
you know i can't see through the haze around me
and i'd do anything to just feel better
i can't find my way
god i need a change
and i'd do anything to just feel better
any little thing to just feel better
i'm tired of holding on
to all the things i leave behind
it's really getting old yeah
i think i need a little help this time
i'm gonna try anything to just feel better
tell me what to do
you know i can't see through the haze around me
and i'd do anything to just feel better
i can't find my way
god i need a change
and i'd do anything to just feel better
any little thing to just feel better
I have come to the realization recently that I can't do this alone anymore, and do it well. I don't want to do this alone anymore. I don't want to be a single parent. I'm tired of it. I don't want the girls to be raised in a single parent household. I cannot be a good mother to them without help, as hard as that is for me to admit. I need a co-parent, a partner, a support system that doesn't come and go a couple of nights a week. I need someone who will have my back and be there to emotionally support me, so that I can be healthy enough to emotionally support my children. It's not fair to them that I am tired and overwhelmed most of the time because they end up bearing the brunt of it. This, I am not okay with. Paradoxically, I find myself behaving in some of the ways that I used to get angry with Andie for when he lost his patience. Funny how that happens isn't it? I guess when you are left to take on the role of both parents you step right into those shoes...no matter how uncomfortable they may be. Because you don't know any other way to do it, really.
I just want to feel better.
About my life.
About my parenting.
About my future and theirs.
About myself.
"Just Feel Better" by Aerosmith and Santana
she said i feel stranded
and i can't tell anymore
if i'm coming or i'm going
it's not how i planned it
i got a key to the door
but it just won't open
i know i know i know
part of me says let it go
that life happens for a reason
i don't i don't i don't
because it never worked before
but this time
this time
i'm gonna try anything to just feel better
tell me what to do
you know i can't see through the haze around me
and i'd do anything to just feel better
i can't find my way
god i need a change
and i'd do anything to just feel better
any little thing to just feel better
she said i need you to hold me
i'm a little far from the shore
and i'm afraid of sinking
you're the only one who knows me
and who doesn't ignore that my soul i weeping
i know i know i know
part of me says let it go
everything must have its season
'round and 'round it goes
every day's the one before
but this time
this time
i'm gonna try anything to just feel better
tell me what to do
you know i can't see through the haze around me
and i'd do anything to just feel better
i can't find my way
god i need a change
and i'd do anything to just feel better
any little thing to just feel better
i'm tired of holding on
to all the things i leave behind
it's really getting old yeah
i think i need a little help this time
i'm gonna try anything to just feel better
tell me what to do
you know i can't see through the haze around me
and i'd do anything to just feel better
i can't find my way
god i need a change
and i'd do anything to just feel better
any little thing to just feel better
Labels:
anger,
grief,
guilt,
loss,
musical inspiration,
pain,
regret,
single parenting,
twins,
widow
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Finding our way...
"Out of every crisis comes the chance to be reborn, to reconceive ourselves as individuals, to choose the kind of change that will help us grow and fulfill ourselves more completely. "– Nena O’Neill
I attended a new church today with the girls. Just the three of us. Just our little family. Starting something new on our own- making a new way of life for ourselves. I am in a phase of rebirthing who I am and who our family will be without Andie in it. It’s a necessary part of the healing process for me to find my own way again…to choose the kind of change that will help me grow into who I want to be. Only when I find my own way, can I successfully lead the girls and be the strong parent they deserve.
Religion was always a minor point of contention with Andie and I. I being raised Methodist, and he being raised Church of Christ, we didn’t always see things the same way. Before we got married we talked about what religion we’d like to practice and how we’d like to raise our kids one day, but the reality of how we led our lives was far different from the hypothetical conversations we had. As is often the case with these kind of issues.
We said we would allow both religions to be a part of our lives as neither one of us wanted to completely give up who we were in that sense. We would alternate which church we attended, or just find a new one that we both felt comfortable in.
But the reality was that we always went to his church. Only when I really pushed did he agree to visit a Methodist church a time or two. It became something that I acquiesced on just to keep the peace. We didn’t go to church often mainly because he was usually working, but also because it wasn’t hugely important to him. And since I didn’t have a strong connection with his religion I didn’t push the issue. We went when we went. It wasn’t something either one of us felt convicted to do because we hadn’t established a strong bond with the church as a couple.
But through this process my yearning for a deeper spiritual understanding has increased.
I have been longing to reestablish that part of my life.
To rebuild myself, and to rebuild my relationship with God.
So I tried something new today in the hopes that I just might fulfill myself more completely.
In the hopes that maybe I can navigate my way out of this grief and lead us as a family into a new way of life we can call our own.
I attended a new church today with the girls. Just the three of us. Just our little family. Starting something new on our own- making a new way of life for ourselves. I am in a phase of rebirthing who I am and who our family will be without Andie in it. It’s a necessary part of the healing process for me to find my own way again…to choose the kind of change that will help me grow into who I want to be. Only when I find my own way, can I successfully lead the girls and be the strong parent they deserve.
Religion was always a minor point of contention with Andie and I. I being raised Methodist, and he being raised Church of Christ, we didn’t always see things the same way. Before we got married we talked about what religion we’d like to practice and how we’d like to raise our kids one day, but the reality of how we led our lives was far different from the hypothetical conversations we had. As is often the case with these kind of issues.
We said we would allow both religions to be a part of our lives as neither one of us wanted to completely give up who we were in that sense. We would alternate which church we attended, or just find a new one that we both felt comfortable in.
But the reality was that we always went to his church. Only when I really pushed did he agree to visit a Methodist church a time or two. It became something that I acquiesced on just to keep the peace. We didn’t go to church often mainly because he was usually working, but also because it wasn’t hugely important to him. And since I didn’t have a strong connection with his religion I didn’t push the issue. We went when we went. It wasn’t something either one of us felt convicted to do because we hadn’t established a strong bond with the church as a couple.
But through this process my yearning for a deeper spiritual understanding has increased.
I have been longing to reestablish that part of my life.
To rebuild myself, and to rebuild my relationship with God.
So I tried something new today in the hopes that I just might fulfill myself more completely.
In the hopes that maybe I can navigate my way out of this grief and lead us as a family into a new way of life we can call our own.
Labels:
grief,
healing,
loss,
questioning faith,
religion,
single parenting,
widow
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Finding joy...
Today is the tomorrow you were worried about yesterday. Was it worth it? – Siddhartha
I had a great weekend. On Saturday I took the girls to the lake for a little while and they got to swim and play in the water. It was joyous to soak up a couple hours of sunlight and bask in the glow of their smiles. Today my mom met me at the Home and Garden Show and then we decided to head over to a local BBQ joint to hear some live music that the local radio show was broadcasting. The girls were gloriously behaved all day. It was exactly the kind of weekend that Andie and I loved. The reason we chose to live in the quaint little town that always has some fun activity going on.
On the way home I was thinking to myself that this was the first time in a long time that I have felt like life really might be worth it after all. I felt like there might actually be things to look forward to. We walked in the door and mom flipped the switch to turn on the kitchen light. Another bulb blew. The first in many, many weeks. I smiled and cried a little thinking he must be with us enjoying the perfect weekend and just wanted to let us know he was here.
I actually cooked a real meal for dinner. Only the third or fourth time I’ve done it since Andie passed. It felt good to feel like a “real mom” who actually puts a home cooked meal on the table and eats with her kids. Usually I throw together kid food and then skip dinner for myself. Tonight I savored the tilapia and zucchini (“nini” as the kids call it). It was one of Andie’s favorite dishes of mine.
After bath time the girls were giddy. They horse played and loved on each other for about 30 minutes straight- giggling the whole time. As any mother knows, there is no better sound than that of your children’s laughter. I even got some spontaneous kisses out of them. Bonus!
All in all it was a wonderful weekend, one in which I found some joy.
Of course there was a huge piece missing, but for once I was able to not focus on that.
I was able to focus on what was actually in front of me.
And for once I was able to not worry about tomorrow…
I had a great weekend. On Saturday I took the girls to the lake for a little while and they got to swim and play in the water. It was joyous to soak up a couple hours of sunlight and bask in the glow of their smiles. Today my mom met me at the Home and Garden Show and then we decided to head over to a local BBQ joint to hear some live music that the local radio show was broadcasting. The girls were gloriously behaved all day. It was exactly the kind of weekend that Andie and I loved. The reason we chose to live in the quaint little town that always has some fun activity going on.
On the way home I was thinking to myself that this was the first time in a long time that I have felt like life really might be worth it after all. I felt like there might actually be things to look forward to. We walked in the door and mom flipped the switch to turn on the kitchen light. Another bulb blew. The first in many, many weeks. I smiled and cried a little thinking he must be with us enjoying the perfect weekend and just wanted to let us know he was here.
I actually cooked a real meal for dinner. Only the third or fourth time I’ve done it since Andie passed. It felt good to feel like a “real mom” who actually puts a home cooked meal on the table and eats with her kids. Usually I throw together kid food and then skip dinner for myself. Tonight I savored the tilapia and zucchini (“nini” as the kids call it). It was one of Andie’s favorite dishes of mine.
After bath time the girls were giddy. They horse played and loved on each other for about 30 minutes straight- giggling the whole time. As any mother knows, there is no better sound than that of your children’s laughter. I even got some spontaneous kisses out of them. Bonus!
All in all it was a wonderful weekend, one in which I found some joy.
Of course there was a huge piece missing, but for once I was able to not focus on that.
I was able to focus on what was actually in front of me.
And for once I was able to not worry about tomorrow…
Labels:
connecting with the afterlife,
grateful,
grief,
healing,
hope,
loss,
single parenting,
twins,
widow
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Enough already!
I don't even really know where to begin this post. I guess I could begin by saying that I'm exhausted, sick, overwhelmed, and have been pushed to the brink of breaking. If one more thing goes wrong in my life, I will truly lose it.
Essentially, I have spent the past 5 days in the hospital with Allie. Two weeks ago Allie and Addie both had fevers and a virus for several days. Addie bounced back but Allie never really seemed to get back up to full speed. She wasn't running a fever anymore, but she was irritable, cranky, and lethargic. I just kept thinking she would surely get over it soon.
Last Wednesday I came home from work and the nanny said Allie had been very tired and listless all day. She did not have a fever or any other symptoms of illness, but she was definitely not herself. She took a morning and afternoon nap (hasn't done that in months), and cried if she wasn't being held. When I fed her dinner that evening she refused to eat and was acting tired again. I put her down at 6:00 (a very early bedtime)and she fell right to sleep. I was very worried because it wasn't like her to be so lethargic and out of it. I was checking on her every 5-10 minutes to make sure she was breathing because I had a gut feeling that something was very wrong.
At 7:00 I woke her up to change her diaper and she was in better spirits. We were all sitting on the couch reading books and she was interacting well with Addie. All of a sudden she started moaning and writhing to get away from me. The next thing I knew, her body went limp, her eyes glazed over, and her lips turned blue; she was unresponsive to me calling her name. Within a second she was back responsive and moaning, but then it happened again. And again. I had a vivid flashback of the night Andie died, as this is how he looked when I rolled him over in bed that night. I panicked and called 911 fearing that she was having some sort of seizure. By the time EMS arrived she was back to normal. Her blood pressure and oxygen saturation were normal and she had no fever. They said she had a febrile seizure. I didn't believe them because she hadn't had a fever, but they insisted this was probably what it was.
I immediately took her to an ER to be evaluated. While we were waiting for test results to come back she started having episodes of clamminess and was passing gas that was strong enough to be smelled across the room. I thought maybe she was starting to get intussusception again (something we had a scare with back in August). The ER doctor said her head CT was normal, all her blood work was normal except that she was mildly anemic, and he did not feel she was having intussusception because she was not screaming and in extreme pain- a classic symptom of intussusception. He said to follow up with her pediatrician the next morning. We got home around midnight and until 2:30 Allie could not get comfortable. She writhed around and changed positions about every 10 seconds. Something she had done the first time she had intussusception...I had a gut feeling again that this was going on, but no verifiable symptoms to prove it. (It's usually diagnosed with a bloody stool, and crying bouts of extreme pain- which she had not had).
The next morning while waiting for the pediatrician's office to open so I could call them, she had a huge bloody stool. We rushed her to the ER at a children's hospital in San Antonio where it was such an emergency situation that they made us bypass triage, and got us set up immediately for ultrasounds to confirm the diagnosis. The ultrasound showed what looked like an atypical presentation of intussusception. Being that it was atypical and looked more swollen than a regular intussusception they said she must have emergency surgery to correct the situation; the usual protocol was an air enema but would be too dangerous in this situation and could risk perforating her bowel.
Thursday afternoon she underwent surgery and did remarkably well. The surgeon found that she did not actually have intussusception, but instead had something called Meckel's Diverticulum. He resected that portion of her bowel and she should have no further complications. Turns out that what happened on Wednesday night wasn't a seizure, but was the result of her blood pressure dropping suddenly when she started to bleed internally.
She has been such a tough girl through all of this. She has had a great disposition and is healing up very quickly. Today she was able to start a liquid diet and if all goes as planned she will be discharged home tomorrow. We will be so excited to have her home!
Unfortunately, in all of this I have developed the worst chest cold I remember having in the past 10 years. I'm positive it is from all the stress. Sleeping in the hospital with her and traveling back and forth to spend time with Addie has been demanding physically and emotionally.
I am so very grateful to all my wonderful friends and family who have stepped up and provided immense support over the past five days. And to my boss who once again has been very understanding about my need to miss work.
I have so many emotions flooding around my head in regards to all of this. I was so terrified in the beginning and having bouts of PTSD. Thankfully, I am feeling relieved that she is okay, and grateful for good medical care. I feel like there is a dark cloud of bad luck looming over my head- I mean, how much more can one person take? But, then I am shown the love and support of all those around me when I am in need. I feel guilty that I am always having to call on someone or rely on others...it seems it's time for me to be paying back those in need, not still be the one who is always needy. I am frustrated that I had to go through all of this without my husband to support me. I am sad that I can't be with both of my kids at the same time. I am overwhelmed with being pulled in too many directions at once. I'm irritated that I was just getting back on my feet and independent again, and something happens that leaves me struggling to keep my head above water and relying on others to save me. I'm scared that people will get tired of always having to help me out and will just stop associating with me because my situation is too high maintenance, and there is "always something"...
I am exhausted.
I am tapped out.
I am at my breaking point.
I've been pushed too far.
I can't take one more thing...
Essentially, I have spent the past 5 days in the hospital with Allie. Two weeks ago Allie and Addie both had fevers and a virus for several days. Addie bounced back but Allie never really seemed to get back up to full speed. She wasn't running a fever anymore, but she was irritable, cranky, and lethargic. I just kept thinking she would surely get over it soon.
Last Wednesday I came home from work and the nanny said Allie had been very tired and listless all day. She did not have a fever or any other symptoms of illness, but she was definitely not herself. She took a morning and afternoon nap (hasn't done that in months), and cried if she wasn't being held. When I fed her dinner that evening she refused to eat and was acting tired again. I put her down at 6:00 (a very early bedtime)and she fell right to sleep. I was very worried because it wasn't like her to be so lethargic and out of it. I was checking on her every 5-10 minutes to make sure she was breathing because I had a gut feeling that something was very wrong.
At 7:00 I woke her up to change her diaper and she was in better spirits. We were all sitting on the couch reading books and she was interacting well with Addie. All of a sudden she started moaning and writhing to get away from me. The next thing I knew, her body went limp, her eyes glazed over, and her lips turned blue; she was unresponsive to me calling her name. Within a second she was back responsive and moaning, but then it happened again. And again. I had a vivid flashback of the night Andie died, as this is how he looked when I rolled him over in bed that night. I panicked and called 911 fearing that she was having some sort of seizure. By the time EMS arrived she was back to normal. Her blood pressure and oxygen saturation were normal and she had no fever. They said she had a febrile seizure. I didn't believe them because she hadn't had a fever, but they insisted this was probably what it was.
I immediately took her to an ER to be evaluated. While we were waiting for test results to come back she started having episodes of clamminess and was passing gas that was strong enough to be smelled across the room. I thought maybe she was starting to get intussusception again (something we had a scare with back in August). The ER doctor said her head CT was normal, all her blood work was normal except that she was mildly anemic, and he did not feel she was having intussusception because she was not screaming and in extreme pain- a classic symptom of intussusception. He said to follow up with her pediatrician the next morning. We got home around midnight and until 2:30 Allie could not get comfortable. She writhed around and changed positions about every 10 seconds. Something she had done the first time she had intussusception...I had a gut feeling again that this was going on, but no verifiable symptoms to prove it. (It's usually diagnosed with a bloody stool, and crying bouts of extreme pain- which she had not had).
The next morning while waiting for the pediatrician's office to open so I could call them, she had a huge bloody stool. We rushed her to the ER at a children's hospital in San Antonio where it was such an emergency situation that they made us bypass triage, and got us set up immediately for ultrasounds to confirm the diagnosis. The ultrasound showed what looked like an atypical presentation of intussusception. Being that it was atypical and looked more swollen than a regular intussusception they said she must have emergency surgery to correct the situation; the usual protocol was an air enema but would be too dangerous in this situation and could risk perforating her bowel.
Thursday afternoon she underwent surgery and did remarkably well. The surgeon found that she did not actually have intussusception, but instead had something called Meckel's Diverticulum. He resected that portion of her bowel and she should have no further complications. Turns out that what happened on Wednesday night wasn't a seizure, but was the result of her blood pressure dropping suddenly when she started to bleed internally.
She has been such a tough girl through all of this. She has had a great disposition and is healing up very quickly. Today she was able to start a liquid diet and if all goes as planned she will be discharged home tomorrow. We will be so excited to have her home!
Unfortunately, in all of this I have developed the worst chest cold I remember having in the past 10 years. I'm positive it is from all the stress. Sleeping in the hospital with her and traveling back and forth to spend time with Addie has been demanding physically and emotionally.
I am so very grateful to all my wonderful friends and family who have stepped up and provided immense support over the past five days. And to my boss who once again has been very understanding about my need to miss work.
I have so many emotions flooding around my head in regards to all of this. I was so terrified in the beginning and having bouts of PTSD. Thankfully, I am feeling relieved that she is okay, and grateful for good medical care. I feel like there is a dark cloud of bad luck looming over my head- I mean, how much more can one person take? But, then I am shown the love and support of all those around me when I am in need. I feel guilty that I am always having to call on someone or rely on others...it seems it's time for me to be paying back those in need, not still be the one who is always needy. I am frustrated that I had to go through all of this without my husband to support me. I am sad that I can't be with both of my kids at the same time. I am overwhelmed with being pulled in too many directions at once. I'm irritated that I was just getting back on my feet and independent again, and something happens that leaves me struggling to keep my head above water and relying on others to save me. I'm scared that people will get tired of always having to help me out and will just stop associating with me because my situation is too high maintenance, and there is "always something"...
I am exhausted.
I am tapped out.
I am at my breaking point.
I've been pushed too far.
I can't take one more thing...
Labels:
friendship,
grateful,
grief,
guilt,
healing,
single parenting,
widow
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Ignorance is bliss...
The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents. We live on a placid island of ignorance in the midst of black seas of infinity, and it was not meant that we should voyage far. – H.P. Lovecraft, The Call of Cthulhu
I’m tired of trying to figure out the answer to the only real question I have: Why?
I am not meant to know the answer I suppose, or maybe there isn’t one. It is hard for me to fathom not being able to find an answer…if I just look hard enough and long enough, surely the reason will be revealed, right? Is it a riddle I’m too dense to figure out? Is it so simple it’s staring me in the face and I just can’t see it?
I think I’m most terrified of not having the answer not for myself, but for these two innocent little girls who will without a doubt ask me this very question one day, to which I won’t have an answer.
“Why did he have to die, Mommy?”
Perhaps I should be content with my ignorance and not voyage far…
I’m tired of trying to figure out the answer to the only real question I have: Why?
I am not meant to know the answer I suppose, or maybe there isn’t one. It is hard for me to fathom not being able to find an answer…if I just look hard enough and long enough, surely the reason will be revealed, right? Is it a riddle I’m too dense to figure out? Is it so simple it’s staring me in the face and I just can’t see it?
I think I’m most terrified of not having the answer not for myself, but for these two innocent little girls who will without a doubt ask me this very question one day, to which I won’t have an answer.
“Why did he have to die, Mommy?”
Perhaps I should be content with my ignorance and not voyage far…
Labels:
grief,
loss,
single parenting,
twins,
widow
Sunday, February 27, 2011
I'm not a single parent...
The first thing I usually do in the morning is check the widow blogs I follow to see how everyone is doing. It usually helps me get through the day feeling not so isolated in my experience of the world right now.
This morning I read this one: Widow's Voice Blog and it resonated with me. Especially the part where she makes the distinction between being an "only parent, not just a single one".
I've tried to rationalize my plight to myself by telling myself there are a million single parents out there and if they can do it, so can I. But it's never really quelled my frustrations with doing this alone. And here's why: I am the ONLY one who will ever kiss a boo-boo, clap at their school play, get on them for bad grades, talk to them about their first boyfriends, hug them and kiss them goodnight, make sure all the presents are under the tree and that Santa didn't forget something, make their lunches for school, help with homework, take them to the doctor, take them to the park, encourage them to follow their dreams and believe in them that they can acheive them...
I don't have the luxury of another parent getting visitation with the kids every other weekend and on Wednesdays so I can have a break and some time to myself. I don't have someone else who will also lecture them about bad grades and making the right decisions in life. There is no one who might be able to take the day off work when they're sick because I don't have any more sick days left to take. I don't have anyone else who will show up to support them at soccer games, or pick them up from school if I'm running late, or who will be a confidant to them when they are mad at me but still need someone to talk to. I don't have a co-pilot in this thing.
I realize that divorced people don't always have that either, but the vast majority of them do. They both get to have a role in their child's life and participate in parenting. They have the option of deciding to be a part of the child's life- they make the choice about how involved they are going to be. We didn't get that option and it pisses me off.
I don't want to be the only parent...
This morning I read this one: Widow's Voice Blog and it resonated with me. Especially the part where she makes the distinction between being an "only parent, not just a single one".
I've tried to rationalize my plight to myself by telling myself there are a million single parents out there and if they can do it, so can I. But it's never really quelled my frustrations with doing this alone. And here's why: I am the ONLY one who will ever kiss a boo-boo, clap at their school play, get on them for bad grades, talk to them about their first boyfriends, hug them and kiss them goodnight, make sure all the presents are under the tree and that Santa didn't forget something, make their lunches for school, help with homework, take them to the doctor, take them to the park, encourage them to follow their dreams and believe in them that they can acheive them...
I don't have the luxury of another parent getting visitation with the kids every other weekend and on Wednesdays so I can have a break and some time to myself. I don't have someone else who will also lecture them about bad grades and making the right decisions in life. There is no one who might be able to take the day off work when they're sick because I don't have any more sick days left to take. I don't have anyone else who will show up to support them at soccer games, or pick them up from school if I'm running late, or who will be a confidant to them when they are mad at me but still need someone to talk to. I don't have a co-pilot in this thing.
I realize that divorced people don't always have that either, but the vast majority of them do. They both get to have a role in their child's life and participate in parenting. They have the option of deciding to be a part of the child's life- they make the choice about how involved they are going to be. We didn't get that option and it pisses me off.
I don't want to be the only parent...
Labels:
abandonment,
anger,
grief,
loss,
single parenting,
twins,
widow
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Highs and lows...
Will the highs ever stop being outweighed and interrupted by the lows? This is of course a rhetorical question. The answer is probably never, it might get better, but I suspect there will always be the tinge of bittersweet.
Last night Allie walked on her own for the first time. This is a HUGE milestone for her; she has had some hip problems and has had a very difficult time learning to walk because her hip is rotated and not aligned properly. We've been doing physical therapy and chiropractic adjustments and she has made vast improvements in the past couple of weeks.
Last night I was playing with the girls in their room. We were all having the best time rolling around and rough housing. I was doing a bunch of tickling, just soaking in the sounds of their wonderful laughter. While we were playing Allie stood up and walked about 5 steps to me all on her own, completely unsupported. I was so excited and started clapping. Then Addie started clapping for Allie too, and Allie was so proud of herself. She did it several more times and we kept playing.
Then I came crashing down when I realized how proud Andie would be and how excited he would have been to see this happen. So there I am laying on the girls' bedroom floor sobbing. Of course they're wondering what the hell just happened since seconds before we were all giggling.
I managed to pull myself together but was full of tension and irritability for the rest of the evening. When I finally got myself to bed the tears came back again. All I can think is... Why? Why did this ever have to happen? Why me? Why them? Then I got angry with God, then I got angry with Andie for leaving. Irrational, yes- but it's what we grievers do. I cried so hard I had to remind myself to breath. Big, racking sobs...until I fell asleep.
And that is what life is like in the Simmons household these days. Highs and lows, laughter and crying, joy and pain.
All cohabitating...
Last night Allie walked on her own for the first time. This is a HUGE milestone for her; she has had some hip problems and has had a very difficult time learning to walk because her hip is rotated and not aligned properly. We've been doing physical therapy and chiropractic adjustments and she has made vast improvements in the past couple of weeks.
Last night I was playing with the girls in their room. We were all having the best time rolling around and rough housing. I was doing a bunch of tickling, just soaking in the sounds of their wonderful laughter. While we were playing Allie stood up and walked about 5 steps to me all on her own, completely unsupported. I was so excited and started clapping. Then Addie started clapping for Allie too, and Allie was so proud of herself. She did it several more times and we kept playing.
Then I came crashing down when I realized how proud Andie would be and how excited he would have been to see this happen. So there I am laying on the girls' bedroom floor sobbing. Of course they're wondering what the hell just happened since seconds before we were all giggling.
I managed to pull myself together but was full of tension and irritability for the rest of the evening. When I finally got myself to bed the tears came back again. All I can think is... Why? Why did this ever have to happen? Why me? Why them? Then I got angry with God, then I got angry with Andie for leaving. Irrational, yes- but it's what we grievers do. I cried so hard I had to remind myself to breath. Big, racking sobs...until I fell asleep.
And that is what life is like in the Simmons household these days. Highs and lows, laughter and crying, joy and pain.
All cohabitating...
Friday, February 4, 2011
Cheated
It snowed today. In Texas. The girls will likely not see this happen again for another 15-20 years so we took advantage of the opportunity and let them play in the snow. They had fun for about 10 minutes and then got bored, and I got cold. Inside we went....

We decided to make cupcakes because the girls turned 18 months old today. It was their 1 1/2 year birthday so we decided to celebrate...that was Grandma's great idea. They even got to help make the cupcakes- such big girls!
Of course, the best part was getting to eat the cupcakes! They each got 2...most of it ending up on their laps and the floor, but it sure was fun! And they smelled like icing for the rest of the afternoon!
While they were napping I came across an old picture of Andie and I. It was taken just a few months after we got engaged when we thought we had our whole lives ahead of us, and it made me really sad... it reminded me of how little time we actually had together. I started reminiscing and trying to figure out exactly how long he was part of my life. He kissed me for the first time on April 11, 2001- I remember it like it was yesterday and then I realize he was not even "mine" for a whole decade.

We decided to make cupcakes because the girls turned 18 months old today. It was their 1 1/2 year birthday so we decided to celebrate...that was Grandma's great idea. They even got to help make the cupcakes- such big girls!


He was part of my life and my good friend since I was 19, but not truly mine for a whole decade and I’m left feeling so cheated. I cry in the shower thinking of how little time we had and absent-mindedly draw a heart in the condensation on the shower door. Almost as quick as I can draw it the water drips and blurs the lines making it almost indistinguishable. I draw it again. As quick as I finish drawing it, it vanishes before my eyes- just like our time together. I'm left feeling like what we had was nothing but a mirage. Something you think you see, but it's not quite tangible, and the closer you get to it the more you wonder if it was real at all. It just seems like he slipped through my fingers...It all went by so fast.
Drawing the heart on the shower door reminds me of the times when one of us would write a little love note in the steam on the mirror while the other was in the shower. And the time years ago when he left dozens of post-it notes around my apartment on which he'd written "I love you". He hid them in places so I was finding them for weeks...my linen closet, the pantry, the junk drawer, the medicine cabinet...they were everywhere. I saved them all for a while, but years later I eventually threw them away thinking that a pile of random post-it notes wasn’t very meaningful after all those years, in comparison to all the other love notes and cards he had given me. I’d give anything for that stack of post-it notes today. For a simple love note in the steam on the mirror when I get out of the shower. For one more tangible thing...just a simple thing to prove that it was all real.
Anyway, it wasn't a horrible day, it wasn't a great day...just one in which I constantly had a feeling that he was missing out on so much. The first time for the girls to see snow. The fun we had making and eating cupcakes to celebrate their "half birthday". The mundane and simple moments shared with the girls, many of which happen every day.
I just feel like I got cheated. More than that, the girls got cheated. He got cheated. Like we weren't told the rules of the game before we agreed to play.
And there is just no way I can make it all right...
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Enough
Allie got sick today. I think she'd been working up to this for a few days. She'd been fussy and not sleeping well and I couldn't really figure out what was wrong. Today she made it abundantly clear exactly what was wrong.
After church we went to a restaurant for lunch and before we could even be sat at our table she vomited all over me, all over herself, all over the bench in the waiting area. My father in-law ended up having to drive us home so I could bathe her and get her in bed. I had to ask my father in-law to stay with me and feed Addie lunch while I got Allie and myself cleaned up.
A couple of hours later we went for round two and she threw up all over me in the recliner. She remained lethargic all day. Not taking an fluids and just wanting to be held. Addie still had to be cared for and I couldn't drop everything for Allie's sake and just let Addie suffer. So my in-laws stayed with me all afternoon and until I got the girls in bed tonight. I literally could not have made it through the afternoon without my in-laws.
And it's not until now, in the quiet and calm of the evening when I am once again alone that the tears come. Because I realize I simply cannot do it all. Because I shouldn't have to rely on my in-laws to sacrifice their entire day to help me. I should have a husband here, who though he would gag at the smell of their vomit, would be in the midst of it all with me. Who would be yelling at me from the kitchen while I'm bathing Allie, "Babe, what am I supposed to feed Addie for lunch?" And I'd yell back, "Give her a hotdog, a cheese stick, and some fruit." And then roll my eyes to myself that he couldn't think of a simple lunch to put together while I am busy washing the chunks of vomit from my daughter. And when she vomited in his favorite recliner he would be disgusted and want to spray it with lysol. I'd tell him to put her clothes in the washer and he would, but he wouldn't know to rinse the vomit in the sink first and I'd be annoyed again. He would've wanted to be helpful so he would've gone out and picked us up dinner, cleaned up the kitchen, picked up the toy room, fed the dogs, and taken out the trash, all without me asking. Then he wouldv'e held those babies tight and cuddled them til they fell asleep in his arms, all the while, telling me to go take a shower, knowing I would need the 20 minutes to myself.
I want him to be here so I can be annoyed at the little things again. So I could have someone who knows me so well that I wouldn't have to tell him what I want from the fast food restaurant, he would just know. I want him here so I can crawl into bed at the end of this night, sigh, and chuckle with him about how crazy he was to spray the furniture with lysol. I would kiss him and tell him that I loved him and that I really appreciated all his help today. He would've said, "But all I did was make a hotdog."
And that would have been enough...
After church we went to a restaurant for lunch and before we could even be sat at our table she vomited all over me, all over herself, all over the bench in the waiting area. My father in-law ended up having to drive us home so I could bathe her and get her in bed. I had to ask my father in-law to stay with me and feed Addie lunch while I got Allie and myself cleaned up.
A couple of hours later we went for round two and she threw up all over me in the recliner. She remained lethargic all day. Not taking an fluids and just wanting to be held. Addie still had to be cared for and I couldn't drop everything for Allie's sake and just let Addie suffer. So my in-laws stayed with me all afternoon and until I got the girls in bed tonight. I literally could not have made it through the afternoon without my in-laws.
And it's not until now, in the quiet and calm of the evening when I am once again alone that the tears come. Because I realize I simply cannot do it all. Because I shouldn't have to rely on my in-laws to sacrifice their entire day to help me. I should have a husband here, who though he would gag at the smell of their vomit, would be in the midst of it all with me. Who would be yelling at me from the kitchen while I'm bathing Allie, "Babe, what am I supposed to feed Addie for lunch?" And I'd yell back, "Give her a hotdog, a cheese stick, and some fruit." And then roll my eyes to myself that he couldn't think of a simple lunch to put together while I am busy washing the chunks of vomit from my daughter. And when she vomited in his favorite recliner he would be disgusted and want to spray it with lysol. I'd tell him to put her clothes in the washer and he would, but he wouldn't know to rinse the vomit in the sink first and I'd be annoyed again. He would've wanted to be helpful so he would've gone out and picked us up dinner, cleaned up the kitchen, picked up the toy room, fed the dogs, and taken out the trash, all without me asking. Then he wouldv'e held those babies tight and cuddled them til they fell asleep in his arms, all the while, telling me to go take a shower, knowing I would need the 20 minutes to myself.
I want him to be here so I can be annoyed at the little things again. So I could have someone who knows me so well that I wouldn't have to tell him what I want from the fast food restaurant, he would just know. I want him here so I can crawl into bed at the end of this night, sigh, and chuckle with him about how crazy he was to spray the furniture with lysol. I would kiss him and tell him that I loved him and that I really appreciated all his help today. He would've said, "But all I did was make a hotdog."
And that would have been enough...
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Note to self: read the fine print...


Today at snack time I feed the girls at the table and the monotony of the task hits me. It feels like I have prepared their meals, fed them, and cleaned up after them all by myself a million times. Then I realize that I have. They were still in high chairs with trays when he died. They were still eating pureed foods and drinking out of a bottle. So much has changed that he does not know about. In the few short months, our lives have dramatically changed in a myriad of small but significant ways. I ponder all the things he never got to see and doesn't know about.
He does not know that:
They can eat with a fork and drink out of sippy cup, all the while eating table food exclusively- no more pureeing veggies
They can hop like a bunny, moo like a cow, and hoot like an owl
They have natural rhythm and love to dance just like me
They love pizza as much as I do
They are able to identify with startling accuracy almost all of the animals, shapes, and many objects in their books, which they look through incessantly
They love each other and often hug and cuddle- their bond is unique and special
They know him; they recognize him in most pictures they see
They love to brush their teeth
They know how old they are and proudly raise their index finger when asked
They love to ride in the car and get excited repeating “Go” over and over when we say we are going somewhere
They give high fives and make silly faces on command
They crawl on everything, and open everything....everything
They follow simple commands and directions
They try to put their own shoes and socks on, and at bath time try to take their pants off
They build towers out of blocks and are able to do simple big board puzzles
They love to flip the light switches on and off
They love to eat ice like him, and when they see an adult drinking out of a cup they say "ice" over and over until they are given a piece
They love to rough house and get tickles, something I always imagined him doing with them
They squeal with delight and clap whenever they are proud of something they have accomplished
All of these beautiful, unique things that make them who they are and he has never experienced them. He's never had the joy of seeing them giggle with delight when being chased. Never seen them hug and kiss each other. Never watched with amazement as I have when they aren't sure how to do something and they just keep trying until they get it right. He's never walked into their room at night while they are wide awake, only to have them pretend to be asleep as though they can fool us. He's never had them cling to his leg and demand "up" because they so desperately want to be held.
It is with penetrating sadness that I realize this is all only the tip of the iceberg. He never got to be a part of shaping who they are, and who they will become. The sole task of instilling values, morals, life lessons, and personality traits is left to me.
When I said "til death do us part" this isn't what I had in mind.
This isn't what I signed up for.
I sit here heaving and sobbing, asking God if there is any way I can re-negotiate the contract.
Surely, there is an escape clause in the fine print somewhere.
Then I realize, this IS the fine print...I just didn't read it.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Frayed nerves...
Wow! Single parenting sucks! The girls are in a new phase where almost anything and everything can induce a tantrum…an all out, on the floor, kicking and screaming, tantrum. Furthermore, they outnumber me!
Here’s a list of things that have led to a tantrum in the past few days:
Changing a diaper
Sister has a toy I want or is in my general vicinity
I’m hungry and mom can’t get food in front of me in the next 30 seconds
A stranger looked at me and waved (No lie, this happened twice in the past week at two different restaurants)
Mom left the room
Mom is on the phone and not giving me her undivided attention
I want Mom to hold me…I don’t want Mom to hold me
I don’t want to eat what Mom gave me so I will spit it out, throw it on the floor, or better yet rub it in my hair- especially if I just had a bath.
They are so fast and curious; in the time it takes me to change one’s diaper the other is into something they shouldn’t be into (xmas presents, Kleenex box, all the dvd’s in the cabinet, the toilet, you name it.)
Even laundry is no simple feat. This morning this is how doing laundry went in our house. I go to my room and gather my dirty laundry. I leave the room with hands full, not able to shut the door behind me, and as I’m leaving my bedroom they are crawling in. My bedroom and bathroom are forbidden territory and they know it- when they see an opportunity to cross enemy lines they seize it. I take the clothes to the laundry room and drop it off and go back to get them. In the time it takes me to walk back from the laundry room, one is in my make-up drawer and the other is standing at the tub and has turned the water on. I get them both out of the bathroom and shut my bedroom door behind me. I go back to the laundry room to load the washer. I hear screaming while I’m in there but figure they can fend for themselves for 15 more seconds. I come out and find Addie is eating something out of the fireplace. While I am washing ashes out of her mouth, Allie comes to the kitchen and unloads the entire Tupperware cabinet. After I hastily pick up the Tupperware and throw it haphazardly into the cabinet (gone are the days of the organized cabinet where all pieces have their matching lids) I find Addie tearing up a magazine in the living room. When I take it away she screams, throws herself on the floor, and repeatedly hits my foot- as it happens to be the closest thing to her. Allie crawls around the corner and sees Addie crying so she starts too. Afterall, the only thing better than one upset child is two. And in this house it is “monkey see, monkey do”. Whew- I’m exhausted and it’s only 9:30 a.m.!
The only thing they both enjoy no matter what is the bath, and if I could get away with leaving them in the bathtub for 4 hours at a time, I just might. Better yet, maybe I should stay in the bath for 4 hours...
They are draining me in a way they have never drained me before. By the end of the day I have picked them up, put them down, crouched down to clean something up, and picked up toys so many times that my back and neck are achy and sore. Added to the stress and exhaustion of grieving it is all too much. It makes me lose my patience and I react in ways that I never would under different circumstances; yelling and spanking over things that don’t deserve such reactions. Then I feel like a horrible parent and my guilt weighs me down even further. It is a vicious cycle. I feel terribly guilty about the little amount of time I get to spend with them (3 hours at most on days I have to work) and I just want to be with them, but then they are so taxing that when I’m with them I just want to be away from them. I am on edge with them, with myself, with everyone.
My emotions are raw, like live wires and if you come too close you might get shocked.
Here’s a list of things that have led to a tantrum in the past few days:
Changing a diaper
Sister has a toy I want or is in my general vicinity
I’m hungry and mom can’t get food in front of me in the next 30 seconds
A stranger looked at me and waved (No lie, this happened twice in the past week at two different restaurants)
Mom left the room
Mom is on the phone and not giving me her undivided attention
I want Mom to hold me…I don’t want Mom to hold me
I don’t want to eat what Mom gave me so I will spit it out, throw it on the floor, or better yet rub it in my hair- especially if I just had a bath.
They are so fast and curious; in the time it takes me to change one’s diaper the other is into something they shouldn’t be into (xmas presents, Kleenex box, all the dvd’s in the cabinet, the toilet, you name it.)
Even laundry is no simple feat. This morning this is how doing laundry went in our house. I go to my room and gather my dirty laundry. I leave the room with hands full, not able to shut the door behind me, and as I’m leaving my bedroom they are crawling in. My bedroom and bathroom are forbidden territory and they know it- when they see an opportunity to cross enemy lines they seize it. I take the clothes to the laundry room and drop it off and go back to get them. In the time it takes me to walk back from the laundry room, one is in my make-up drawer and the other is standing at the tub and has turned the water on. I get them both out of the bathroom and shut my bedroom door behind me. I go back to the laundry room to load the washer. I hear screaming while I’m in there but figure they can fend for themselves for 15 more seconds. I come out and find Addie is eating something out of the fireplace. While I am washing ashes out of her mouth, Allie comes to the kitchen and unloads the entire Tupperware cabinet. After I hastily pick up the Tupperware and throw it haphazardly into the cabinet (gone are the days of the organized cabinet where all pieces have their matching lids) I find Addie tearing up a magazine in the living room. When I take it away she screams, throws herself on the floor, and repeatedly hits my foot- as it happens to be the closest thing to her. Allie crawls around the corner and sees Addie crying so she starts too. Afterall, the only thing better than one upset child is two. And in this house it is “monkey see, monkey do”. Whew- I’m exhausted and it’s only 9:30 a.m.!
The only thing they both enjoy no matter what is the bath, and if I could get away with leaving them in the bathtub for 4 hours at a time, I just might. Better yet, maybe I should stay in the bath for 4 hours...
They are draining me in a way they have never drained me before. By the end of the day I have picked them up, put them down, crouched down to clean something up, and picked up toys so many times that my back and neck are achy and sore. Added to the stress and exhaustion of grieving it is all too much. It makes me lose my patience and I react in ways that I never would under different circumstances; yelling and spanking over things that don’t deserve such reactions. Then I feel like a horrible parent and my guilt weighs me down even further. It is a vicious cycle. I feel terribly guilty about the little amount of time I get to spend with them (3 hours at most on days I have to work) and I just want to be with them, but then they are so taxing that when I’m with them I just want to be away from them. I am on edge with them, with myself, with everyone.
My emotions are raw, like live wires and if you come too close you might get shocked.
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