365 : My Final Post (a love letter to myself)

Well here we are, the final post.  365 days.  1 Year.  1 long...fucked up...amazing year.  In some ways it feels like the longest period ever and it other ways, it feels like it has flown by.  I want to thank all of you who have gone along on this ride with me.  I'd like to think some of it has been funny.  I'd like to think some of it has made you cry.  I'd like to think that some of what I have shared has moved you the tiniest bit or made you look at your loved ones with a little more appreciation than you did the day before.  I am proud of what I have accomplished here and appreciate all the support my readers have provided.  It means more than you know.  The truth is, though, that as much as I enjoyed having you all read this, there is one person that this blog was truly meant for more than anyone else in the world.  ME.  This blog was the longest love letter I could ever write to myself at a time when I needed to be loved more than anything.  I had no idea what I was doing when I began writing.  All I knew was that I had used up all the phone calls to family and friends where I talked forever with no result in sight and they listened cautiously uncertain of what response was appropriate at that given moment.  My time was up and yet I still had so much to work through.  I didn't understand anything yet.  I was hurting.  I was angry.  I was broken.  And so I began writing.  I was very protective of my writing at first, too.  I remember revealing to my friend Megs at dinner one night that I had decided to start a blog.  I was so vulnerable at the time, I had no intention of sharing it with anyone else. I doubted myself.  I wasn't sure I could keep up with it.  I wasn't even sure I knew what to write at that point.  Within a week, though, I was already feeling something from the work I had started that I shared it with my close family and friends.  Yes, I began this blog on shaky ground; I was unclear about the purpose, uncertain about the sustainability and mostly terrified of it's failure.  I needed to succeed at something.  And so through writing, I slowly began to rebuild myself in a way that no friend, no therapist nor my mom could do.  I became reacquainted with myself again and who better to comfort, listen and reassure me than me?  I began this blog a shade of the person I once was, and through writing I found myself again.  And most importantly, I learned to love myself again.  I will cherish this experiment and collection for the rest of my life.  I will go back and read my own words when I need to hear them again or when I need a smile, a laugh or even a good cry.  I will return here when I need to be reminded that I can succeed.  I hope this experience has delivered the same to all of you.  I hope you think to come back here and visit these pages whenever things are feeling heavy and unbearable.  Because I will still be here.  And the biggest lesson of all throughout this is that you can get through it.  It doesn't matter how horrible the situation is.  It's possible to come out on the other side.  I did it.  And if you ever need to be reminded of how to get there, just come back and read a couple of my posts.

Thank you again for reading.

364 : Our Roles as Parents

I took my kids for donuts yesterday morning, which is not something I typically do.  It's something that makes me think of my dad; he had the sweet tooth in the family and donuts were his thing.  When we visited my parents now, my dad would take my oldest on a donut run in the morning.  And even though I was not a big fan of the sugar intake for my 1 and 3 year olds, I loved that their papa was engaging with them in that special way.  I didn't know what role or traditions their own father was introducing them to.  I'm sure there were some, but since we no longer shared a life, I was not privy to what they were.  When I thought about my childhood, I had very distinct memories of both my mom and dad as a couple as an individuals.  They had a wonderful partnership, they both worked hard, provided for us within reason and emphasized the importance of family.  That description though, really just covers the broad strokes.  It's the people they were, the unique traits they both offered that made them so special.  My mom was always the one who would take us shopping in the fall for new school clothes.  She understood the importance of name brands (to a certain degree) and she wanted us to have what we wanted (to a certain degree).  I clearly remember every time we pulled in to the garage after the mall trip, she would tell us to go straight to our rooms and not tell my dad what we had spent.  It's not that they had money issues- it's just that my dad was more of a value shopper and would not appreciate the price for trends.  And my dad had his things, too.  He was not exactly what you called 'handy' regarding auto or home repairs but he certainly knew how to use duct tape.  When I stopped to think about all the special characteristics they each brought to my life, it made me feel a little sorry for my kids that they were not experiencing that in the same way.  Perhaps it didn't matter, because they still had a relationship with both their father and I- but it just still felt different.  My oldest had been talking about his dad a lot lately; telling me he really missed his dad every other day.  I had grown more resilient to hearing this, and usually suggested we try to call his dad.  So both on Thursday night and on Saturday night we called.  We got voicemail.  My oldest left a message for his dad, and there was no call back.  Either time.  I couldn't begin to understand how that was possible, but there was nothing I could do.  So, because of that, I took them for donuts yesterday.  I felt like I needed to do something that the 'father' would typically do.  Something that my father had done for me.  I'm sure my boys had no concept of where this gesture had originated from but it didn't really matter.  The smiles on their faces as they picked their donuts with white frosting and sprinkles said it all.  They loved it.

363 : What's Next?

When my ex (then husband) first moved out of our apartment, aside from all of the emotional trauma I felt, I was scared to live there alone.  I had not lived alone (meaning without another adult) in a very long time.  I was accustomed to having a partner.  Sure, I still had roommates, but that made me even more nervous!  Were we safe living alone…on Western?  I was also intimidated at the idea of being the only parent living with the boys- 100% responsible for both of them all the time.  I knew I could do it, but admittedly it was an intimidating thought.  And then somewhere over the past year I began to feel more comfortable with everything.  I began to feel calm.  I began to feel strong.  I began to feel happy.  In fact, last night after my kids went to bed, I realized I was genuinely happy.  I looked at my life and I liked it.  How many times did people actually do that?  Or better yet, how many times did they stop to actually acknowledge it? I was happy with where my life was at the moment.  And the thing that I think I needed to credit partly was this blog.  This blog.  The journey of writing that saved me.  Sure I had been annoyed I had to write at times.  I had gotten lazy on certain days and let exhaustion triumph.  But in 3 days, when I complete my final post, I don't know what I will do with myself.  Yes, I will rejoice and celebrate that moment.  I may even celebrate for a week.  It will be a relief to come home after work without having another assignment to complete.  It will be good to enjoy my dinner or unwind with a show.  It will be wonderful to just sit.  But I hope I don't sit still for too long.  I hope that I can continue writing.  I hope that I can continue to look within, challenge the things I'm afraid of and be thankful for all that I have.  I hope that I can continue to feel immersed in creativity.  I hope that I can continue to be inspired.  Because I think that inspiration brought forth my happiness.  I don't know what is next for certain.  All I know is that I want to keep writing.  Thank you, blog, for showing me I can.

362 : Set Your Intentions

I want love.  I want my heart to be so full of love it aches.  I want to want someone so much that I am tapping my toes in anticipation of seeing them.  I want to be caught smiling to myself in front of others because I can't stop thinking about that person.  I want to be vulnerable.  I want to trust.  I want the good butterflies.  I want to confident again in a relationship.  I want to laugh with this person so hard we cry.  I want to show them every part of me and be accepted completely.  I want love.

361 : The Question I Couldn't Answer

Yesterday I had the incredible experience of bringing both of my sons to work with me.  Yup, it was the annual Bring Your Kids to Work Day at the office and our agency hosted 525 kids.  Seriously.  525.  I had the ambitious idea to bring both of my children, ages 1 and 3, knowing that my 1 year old would do anything to keep up with his big bro.  We had a wonderful morning and my boys were absolutely giddy.  My 3 year old was the perfect age- he took in everything around him.  My youngest  - not so much- but he still enjoyed being a part of it all.  They met several of my colleagues and actually talked to them this year (the last time I took my oldest, he refused to speak to anyone). All in all, it was a great morning.  My nanny met me in the lobby at noon to take the boys home- both of them whipped from all the fun they'd had.  As I returned back to work, I was complimented several times about how cute my kids were.  How much they had grown.  How blonde their hair was.  I could be wrong, but I felt like everyone was rooting for us.  They seemed happy to see us all happy and well adjusted after what we had been through in the past year.  And then as the clock was nearing 5, I sat down with some coworkers to chat.  It started with my children.  Then came questions about their Dad.  And then came the question.  The question that I couldn't really answer.

Why Did you Marry Him?

To be honest- I'm not even sure if those were the exact words- I kind of blacked out that moment.  But I know that question was asked in some capacity.  It was amazing how those five simple words could yield an answer too complex to form.  I felt like the wind had gotten knocked out of me.  I mean, here I had been working on myself for damn near a year and then one simple question comes up and suddenly I'm speechless.  I had spent so much time asking myself Why did he leave me? that I had never even considered the question above.  Why did I marry him? I couldn't answer it.  I don't even know what I said- I think I just laughed it off.  The question stung.  I know it wasn't intended to, but it came out that way.  I carried that bad feeling around with me for a couple hours.  I would forget momentarily why I was feeling bad, and then suddenly I'd remember and the feeling would return even stronger. And finally, that evening I realized something that made that horrible, lingering feeling finally disappear.  I really didn't know the answer to that question anymore.  My ex (then husband) had changed so much from the person I knew that I literally could not remember why I married him.  In fact, I could barely remember who he was.  If that wasn't the best feeling I'd had in a long time, I didn't know what was.  I was forgetting him.  I was forgetting us.

360 : No Shame

I am very proud of my sense of humor.  (Duh, Obviously.)  I think I'm funny.  I mean, I'm not going to get all egotistical here but yes, I think I'm pretty darn funny.  I'm very good at the self deprecating jokes too because I can laugh at myself.  Perhaps, though,  I've used them a little too much this past year to mask true insecurities I feel.  The insecurities that come along with getting divorced.  For a very long time, I felt embarrassed and ashamed of the fact that I had gotten divorced.  Even worse, I had been abandoned and then divorced.  The fact that it wasn't a mutual choice made it more difficult to accept.  I admitted to people I was wounded by this, but I attempted to maintain my sense of humor during these difficult times.  And what better way to express my insecurities than to openly acknowledge them through humor?   I would often start off sentences jokingly saying,

I'm divorced so don't listen to any advice I have but…

I wanted to continue participating in conversations with friends, or be relevant when talking about a relationship, but each time, I felt it was necessary to put myself down before speaking.  I was ashamed of what had happened to me.  I felt like others viewed me as someone that had done something wrong or failed which is why I was in this situation to begin with.  I worried about anyone viewing me in such  way.  And I mean anyone.  I hated the fact that people might look at me and suggest I did something wrong to cause this horrific act.  They might think I was cruel or bitchy or not sexual enough.  And it took a long time of working through this topic for me to see that the only person that was judging me, was me.  I could still be funny.  I could still make jokes.  But to put myself down about the most sensitive thing in my life, only reinforced my insecurities.  I needed to stop being so hard on myself.  I needed to stop feeling embarrassed about what happened.  I needed to stop feeling ashamed.  My response to the most traumatic life change I had ever experienced, spoke more about me as a person that the divorce itself ever could.  That is what people saw.  They saw me.  Molly.  Accepting.  Adjusting.  Moving forward.  I had nothing to be ashamed of.

359 : Acknowledge Your Part

Up until now,  I don't think I've really acknowledged my role in our divorce.  I feel strongly that it wasn't my fault (and as I say that I'm picturing Robin Williams repeatedly telling Matt Damen It's Not Your Fault in Good Will Hunting.)  The difference is that I don't need to be reminded of this, I know it wasn't my fault.  This doesn't mean, though, that I didn't play a role our divorce.  I mean, I was in the relationship, so clearly I must have played some role it in.  Could I have tried harder?  Could I have compromised more?  Could I have listened better?  Could I have loved more deeply?  I have accepted the fact that I will never know the answers to these questions.  And I am no longer asking them from a place of self doubt.  I am acknowledging that marriage is a lot of work.  I'm admitting I am not perfect.  I am suggesting that even if I was perfect in my first marriage, I will try even harder next time if the chance presents itself.  I stopped trying to understand many months ago (see post #36) but I would continue trying to learn, grow and be an even better version of my best self moving forward.

358 : Goodbye Child

I'm getting rather emotional now that the final countdown is on for this blog.  I was trying to think of all the topics I had covered so far, what I had missed and what was still important to cover before I signed off.  And then I realized this was one of those topics.  The third child.  The third child that I never had and probably never would have.  Picture my ex (then husband) and I at our 20 week appointment for baby #2.  We held hands in anticipation about what the sex of this child was.  Girl. Girl. Girl.  I closed my eyes with hope and preparation.

It's a Boy.

I think the tears were in my eyes before the sentence was complete.  To this day I don't know where that sorrow had come from,  but it was there.  The technician awkwardly left the room (Oh yes the tears were in front of her) and my ex (then husband) and I were left alone.  It was silent for a minute as we just hugged and I cried.  He understood.  And he promised me we would have a girl.  I know you can't promise that, but he did.  And I believed him.  #3 would be a girl for sure.  It was one of the saddest and most beautiful moments of my life.  Obviously things did not play out that way.  My second baby boy arrived and I fell in love all over again.  He was perfect.  And then my ex (then husband) unexpectantly moved out just 6 months later.  Amongst all the other things that were going on in my head, I made a note that I would never have my girl now.  I know that probably sounds silly, it should not have been where my head was right then, but I did think about it. My friends told me I could meet someone else and have a another baby if I wanted.  I couldn't even imagine that.  And so I mourned this loss that was never really mine to begin with.  The year of my divorce was one of the darkest periods of my life. But as a result, the boys and I grew closer.  My role as a mother became even more rewarding.  I reached a point where I realized my life was perfect with my boys and I no longer needed my girl.  In fact, I no longer wanted a 3rd child.  I looked at my boys and knew that the divorce had created a very special bond between the 3 of us and I couldn't imagine a third child now.  My hurting heart was being refueled with their love and that was enough.

357 : Personal Success

As I enter the final 9 posts (only 8 more after this one!) I have become aware of something.  Over the past year, I began feeling better emotionally for several reasons- one of which was the taste of personal success.  Let me explain.  Getting divorced made me feel many, many things.  One of which I have yet to discuss is the feeling of failure. We've all been there.  It's probably one of the worst feelings in the world.  Whether you've failed a test or failed in a contest or worst of all things failed your parents.  Divorce made me feel this in the worst way possible.  I had experienced failure in my life before, but more often it seemed as though I excelled at things.  And I don't mean that in an arrogant way either- I worked hard to be good at things. Growing up I wanted to dance, so I took lessons for almost 14 years and I grew into a good dancer.  I also liked singing and I excelled in this up until my senior year of high school where I was cut from the elite singing group Varsity Voices.  This was a failure that hurt and continued to bother me in some way for many years.  I think in this moment though, I can identify that it was the failure itself that hurt more than the lost experience.  I did not like this feeling of failure.  And divorce delivered it more than anything else I had ever experienced.  It was a tough hit to take.  So perhaps part of the reason I started writing was to create that feeling of personal success for myself.  I did not like the feeling of failure and I wanted to do whatever I could to make that go away.  And once I began feeling good from my writing, I excelled in other areas again.  I began to apply myself more at work.  I began viewing it more as a career than a job.  It felt as though people noticed.  I also continued to write; challenging myself to see if I could make the time and maintain interest.  And I did.  Not every day was great (see multiple obvious posts) but I still tried.  Until now I don't think I realized it, but this blog represented an opportunity for both commitment and success.  What had failed in my marriage could now be redeemed right here.  It felt wonderful to recognize this and cherish the personal success I was feeling.  I deserved it.

356 : Change of Plans

Well I had spent the past week debating about how to approach Easter this year with my kiddos (see post # 352). I would not be with them on Easter morning, so I settled on doing the minimum.  This is not because I didn't always want to do everything for my kids, it was more because I wanted to be conscious of how much "celebrating" they did with each holiday.  I didn't want them to be spoiled with two of everything (any more than they would already be).  I promised myself no Easter baskets.  No candy.  Just a simple egg hunt in the apartment upon their return home.  And then the cutest thing happened.  My oldest asked me if the Easter bunny would be able to find him at daddy's?  He wanted to make sure the Easter bunny could locate him so he'd get his loot.  The innocence of his question made me smile and made my heart burst all at the same time.  I couldn't NOT do anything.  I had to do a little something.  So then I remembered a tradition my friend Megs had shared.  She told me about how every year her family got new swim suits in their Easter basket.  I needed to buy these for my boys anyway, so why not start now?  I was big on incorporating traditions into our family, because the divorce had felt so untraditional to me.  I know it is a common thing these days, but for me it still wasn't.  I did not grow up in a divorced family.  I didn't ever anticipate that my husband would walk out on me.  And because I was so sensitive to the fact that things had played out this way, I wanted to try extra hard to create traditions and memories for my children so that they wouldn't think of the divorce first when they thought of their family.  I knew I couldn't control this in total,  but ultimately that was still my hope.  So I got the boys new swim suits and rash guard tops.  Oh and what do you know- I had already purchased flip flops for both of them at the end of the summer last year.  So as it turned out, the Easter bunny would  be stopping by our place afterall.  I couldn't wait to share this all with them.

355 : Celebrate Life!

You may think the title of this post is somehow related to Easter.  Well, sadly no.  It's just a total coincidence that this post happens to fall on the same weekend the world celebrates the resurrection of Jesus Christ.  What I am celebrating more is the fact that I actually have a life this weekend.  I have time to myself.  A weekend to myself!!  Woo Hoo!  This might seem a little silly.  When I got divorced, I was initially terrified of the weekends without my kids.  But soon enough I embraced them.  I looked forward to the freedom of sleeping in as late as I wanted, eating whatever I wanted, doing whatever I wanted!  It was the most amazing gift for a single working mom.  TIME.  So this weekend was the first time I had actually had a weekend to myself in 7 weeks.  It had been non stop for almost 2 months- plans that included both friends and family.  And don't get me wrong, I loved my friends and family but all that time with others only made me more excited for that time for myself.  It was worth celebrating!

354 : Wise Words

I was struggling a little bit earlier this week.  It wasn't one thing in particular, just overall stress that seemed to be building.  No matter where it started, it always seemed to expand into other areas of my life.  I was venting to a friend about a variety of topics, but most specifically an interaction at work that had left me feeling bad.  And it was then that my very wise friend reminded me of something.

Only you can let that person make you feel bad.

Her words made me stop to think for a minute.  Yes, it was easier said than done.  But it was undeniably true.  I couldn't allow myself to accept this negative energy.  Not from anyone.  A boss.  A colleague.  Even my Ex.  Life was too short and I was working hard enough on myself, I didn't need to absorb anything extra.  I knew I would not always be able to manage these feelings, but being aware of it was half of the battle.  I promised myself I would stay grounded in this truth moving forward as much as I could.

353 : Shut It Down

For the past several months, I had been burning the candle at both ends trying to excel at work while also being the best mama I could be.  I nailed it on certain occasions.  In both regards.  I mitigated situations successfully at work and then I came home and made my Grandma Lalley's banana bread with my son.  (God Damn was it good).  I enjoyed the challenge of mastering it all at certain points but I also felt stressed at my ability to keep up.  Yesterday had been a stressful day at work.  My friend, Heather, had given her notice (see post #346) and as her final days drew closer, I began to feel more and more overwhelmed about how I would keep up in her absence.  I also had certain moments were I felt slightly discouraged by this change.  It felt like no matter how hard I tried I would always have more to do at the end of that day.  Last night, though, I did something that I had not done in a very long time.  I left the office and I didn't look back.  I didn't check my emails that night, I didn't respond to any texts and I just shut it down.  I needed a break.  For my mental health.  I would be back first thing in the morning.  They could have me all to themselves again.  Could I do this every night?  No.  I liked to work in the evenings to prepare myself for the next day.  But I could shut it down every now and then.  And so I did.  I closed my computer, left the office and didn't look back.

Go Me!

352 : What Kind of Mom am I?

As the custodial calendar fell this year, I would not have my boys for Easter.  I'm sure if I stopped and dwelled on this for a long time, I would feel sad about it.  I had consciously chosen not to do that, though, so I was feeling okay about it.  The past couple weeks (months even) had been very busy.  Fun, social busy but busy just the same.  So when I realized that this upcoming weekend was Easter and I would not be with my kiddos, well, I was just fine with that.  I was looking forward to having a little time to myself.  I wanted to be free to do whatever I wanted to do.  Get drunk.  Go to Yoga.  Try a new recipe.  Bake.  Sleep.  Whatever I felt like, I could do.  This freedom was what I had started cherishing more than anything when it came to my weekends "off' from the boys be it Easter or not.  It wasn't until just the other morning, though, that I began to think about how I would celebrate Easter with them even if we were not together for the actual day.  It seemed easier with other holidays.  Christmas or Birthdays required presents and therefore the ideas came more naturally.  Easter, however, was different.  I knew my kids would be with their grandparents and I was confident that my former mother in law would have enough sugar to make up for whatever I was missing.  As I thought about this more, a bigger question began to surface.  What kind of mom was I going to be?  It had been important to my ex and I (even when we were together) not to spoil our kids.  I use that term loosely, as everyone's situation is different.  For me, I did not want to create an environment where every holiday meant presents and time with each parent or family meant more presents.  I wasn't as concerned about celebrating the religious part of Easter with my kids (they were a little young for that still) but more so wanted to do something that captured the spirit and tradition for our family.  I had missed my opportunity the weekend before to decorate eggs.  I had the most adorable pottery barn kids easter baskets, but did I really want them to come home off their sugar high only to see another treat awaiting them?  No.  I talked this through with a couple friends in search for the perfect solution to what would be an ongoing dilemma.  How could I give them everything even when I didn't have them and how could I ensure that I wasn't giving them too much?  In the end, I settled on the idea of having my own easter egg hunt take place upon their return that sunday afternoon/evening.  The eggs didn't need to be filled with treats.  It was about the hunt itself that would be fun for them.  I felt good about this approach.  I wanted to give them the world, but I didn't want them to have twice as much as a result of our divorce.  In some ways this was unavoidable, but in other ways it was not.  I felt good about my decision and hoped I was headed in the right direction.

351 : This too Shall Pass

Today's blog is dedicated to my newest subscriber: you know who you are.

My loyal readers know that there have been several themes present on my blog since day one: managing stress, accepting certain realities, facing your fears, hitting rock bottom, landing on your feet and most importantly learning to love yourself.  These are not specific titles of posts, but rather overall ideas that have been consistently woven into the content of my blog.  I've struggled with all of them at varying points and continue to struggle at times.  Such is life; the constant roller coaster of ups and downs.  And sometimes when you start to have more than a couple 'downs' in a row, it begins to wear on you.  This is perfectly normal.  This happens to the best of us.  It's important, though, to not lose sight that there will be an 'up' again.  This is how I talk myself through things.  When I am feeling that uncertainty, when I am feeling stress, when I am feeling anything other than good- I simply take a step back and remind myself what it is that I absolutely have to process at that moment.  Everything else can wait.  And if that doesn't work, then I usually go back and start reading earlier entries in my blog.  I instantly recognize the progress I've made through my writing.  For this reason alone, I encourage anyone who is reading to keep some sort of journal for themselves if you are willing.  It's amazing how much you can learn about yourself through your own words.  For me, when I go back and read my earlier posts, I see that there were days that I felt sad, there were days that I felt good, but above all, I persevered.  I'm still not even sure how on some days, but I did it.  I'm still here. I'm still standing.  And I even find that I am happy most days.  How did this happen?  I don't know.  But I do know that it is possible.  I know that life can be cruel at times and it's certainly not always fair.  But you can get through it.  You can come out on the other side.  You can be happy.  I did it.  You can too.

350 : Men and Divorce

In the past year, I had befriended three different divorced men on various levels.  Two of whom I got to know through work, and one was a guy I just met on my own.  Divorce was a tricky thing.  And divorce with kids was even trickier.  It was almost as though the minute you learned someone had gone through a similar situation, you felt instantly connected to them.  Or at least I did.  I had to be conscious that the divorce itself was not something to measure compatibility against, but initially it made me feel more comfortable in meeting people.  Recently, I was talking with the guy I had been seeing as of late and I asked him the bold question that had been on my mind.  Why did you get divorced?  He seemed comfortable with my question and was open about his answer.  There was no shock or big reveal- it was simply a relationship where the parties involved seemed to have lost each other.  I listened attentively, but could not help but thinking the way in which he was describing everything sounded exactly how my ex was probably spinning our story anyone who asked.  This made me sick.  From my perspective there had been nothing simple or cordial about our situation except for the grace and dignity in which I had consistently responded to everything.  And I told my friend right then and there how his story made me feel.  I could picture my ex peddling that exact same bullshit to another woman.  And it made me sick.  What did it matter how he chose to portray the situation?  I guess in some way, it was still the ultimate insult to me. He had abandoned me and our children.  He had done so in quite possibly the worst way possible.  And yet, I was concerned about what he was telling people about it?  What he was telling people about me? I guess what it came down to was this.  I could accept his choice to end things.  It was not what I wanted, and not what I would have chosen, but regardless I could accept it.  What I could not accept was any defamation of my character.  This bothered me.  Just admit that you screwed up!  Just admit that you walked out. Perhaps he was doing this and I didn't even know but I doubted it.  And in the end it didn't matter.  We both knew who each other really was and what had gone down between us.  Still, it felt that it was easier for men in some way than it was for women.  And I was proof of that because here I was spending time with a man who was telling me the same story and I believed everything he was telling me.  Was it really just that simple?  I acknowledged that it was something I needed to let go of and promised myself that I would.  Eventually.

349 : My Life is Getting Easier

Yesterday was the first time in a long time that I felt like my life was getting easier.  The air was full of new life and hope.  I remember a similar weekend almost 13 years ago when I had come to visit my friends for the first warm weekend in the big city. I decided right then and there I wanted to move to Chicago.  And now so many years later I was blessed again with such a beautiful day.  Yet this time, it wasn't about moving- it was a reminder that my life was getting somewhat easier.  That morning, I had gone grocery shopping with my boys.  Then we got home, packed a quick lunch and headed over to my friend Kelley's.  My oldest rode his bike and my youngest relaxed in the stroller.  I was so impressed with my oldest.  He was peeling down the street and stopped at every corner awaiting instruction.  We made it to Kelley's safely, had our lunch and then made our way back home.  Once again, my oldest cruised the sidewalk with confidence on his bike.  It was so fun to watch.  We got home and my youngest went right down for his nap.  And then I spent the afternoon prepping for the dinner party with my girls: homemade egg rolls, brown rice and a kale salad with Annie's asian sesame dressing (YUM!)  All the while my oldest kept me company at the counter by enjoying this water paints.  I was able to do stuff and he was with me but was entertaining himself! After naps, we headed out to the park; my oldest on his bike again and my youngest driving his red car.  And all the fresh air helped them go right to sleep that night.  No fights.  No meltdowns.  No delays.  They both just got in bed and as soon as their heads hit the pillow they were out.  It was amazing.  It was getting easier.  Parenting.  All on my own.  I was doing it!  Was it that I was just getting more comfortable with it?  Was it that my boys were getting older and thus becoming more manageable?  Or was it just because it was the first warm, sunny, beautiful day that we had experienced in nearly 7 months?  Quite possibly it was a trifecta of all three.  But it was getting easier so I had to stop and note that one.

348 : Spring is in the Air Part 2

Yesterday was the end to what felt like a very long week.  I was facing change at work and uncertainty about where I would be living in a few months; both of which left me feeling stressed and a little depressed.  All week.  And then the most amazing thing happened.  I stepped outside after work at 5:30 and felt the warm air. I walked to the train in a light jacket.  Spring had arrived.  And summer would be right around the corner.  How could anything be a problem at that very moment?  Everything would work itself out just as it had done up to this point.  And I had no way of predicting what was coming next in my life.  But for every problem that had come my way in the past year, an opportunity of some sort had shown up as well.  Who knew what would be next for me?  I certainly didn't but as long as the sun continued to shine, I didn't even care.

347 : My Single Mom Insecurity Part 2

I have never been very good at mingling in a group amongst strangers.  This is just not something that feels comfortable to me.  I hate it in fact.  I'm a friendly and social person, but I just do not do well in these situations.  I feel horribly uncomfortable and just want to retreat to a safer place.  I think these situations get harder and harder to tackle the older you get, too.  Especially when you are divorced and entering the situation alone.  Last night, for instance, I had an event for my son's school.  It was the Mom's Spa Night and I willingly chose to sign up.  Why would I put myself in this situation you might ask?  Well because I had to meet a fundraising goal as a parent of the school and a portion of this event would apply towards the overall goal.  And when the spa night opportunity came along, I figured why not?  I deserved a little pampering!  So I signed up and in doing so, I forgot temporarily what that actually meant.  I was putting myself into a situation where I knew nobody and more importantly, nobody knew my 'situation'.  And by situation I mean, abandoned by husband, single mom working full time raising two boys.  It may have been 8 months post divorce (see post #346) but I still felt safer being around people that knew what I had been through.  It seemed to add an extra layer of protection or security for me.  Last night, though, I did not have this.  I walked into an event full of 20 moms from my son's school- all of whom seemed to know one another and most certainly every one of them wearing a giant rock on their ring finger.  I can't remember the last time I felt so small or self conscious.  Was it that I was entering alone without a friend in the room or was it that I was divorced that made me feel so uncomfortable?  I wasn't sure which bothered me more but regardless the spa night was anything but relaxing.  I attempted to make small talk with some of the other women.  I reviewed the nail polish colors for almost 15 minutes longer than I needed to, only because I wasn't sure what to do with myself.  And finally, I even caught myself starring at the floor more than once because I didn't know where to look or what to do with myself.  Yes, I actually just starred at the floor.  I knew that I was so much more than the very small, insecure person I felt like in that room but I couldn't talk myself out of those feelings at that moment.  So I did what anyone would do in that situation.  I slammed a glass of wine, finished my services and got the hell of out there.  It was a nice try, but I wouldn't do that to myself intentionally again for a while.

346 : The 8 Month Post Divorce Check In

I was feeling a little depressed yesterday.  I try to be positive and hopeful in my blog, but most importantly I try to be honest with my feelings.  So I have to say that yesterday I was feeling slightly depressed.  To begin with, my best friend and colleague at work just gave her notice.  I am happy for her both personally and professionally.  I am self aware enough to be able to separate my feelings from what I know is best for her.  She deserves this opportunity more than anyone and I am excited for her.  I will miss her though.  She has been a trusted partner, a source of inspiration, and a supportive ally.  I am not looking forward to the additional work and stress I will absorb as a result of this transition.  Second of all, I am feeling discouraged about the housing market.  I keep thinking about the townhouse that I put the offer on last week and I'm nervous I won't find something as good.  I know this is foolish and I shouldn't dwell in that negative space, yet I still do.  In fact, to make matters worse, I've found myself pulling up the listing every day since I learned it went to someone else and looking at the pictures.  This is unhealthy I know but I can't seem to stop.  I can still picture my family settled there.  My furniture in the space, the feeling of calling it home.  I must stop this because it is over and I need to move on.  But I can't just yet.  There are no new listings that are attractive to me right now either which isn't helping.  My desire to just know what is next seems to be stronger than it has been in a while.  There will be something else, I know this but I don't feel it yet.  And finally, it's been 8 months since my divorce was official and I don't feel like I am where I should be.  I know there is no timeline that I need to abide by, but when I acknowledge how long it's been I feel as though I should be further along than where I am.  I am dating and I am enjoying myself but I don't know what this relationship is.  And I have never been so content not knowing what a relationship is.  I'm not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing, but I won't allow myself to think about it long enough to decide.  So I am comfortable with where I am, yet I put pressure on myself that I should be further ahead.  How messed up is that?  Why do I put this pressure on myself?  It is when I am stuck in this space that I stop to think about how far I've come.  A year ago, I was still on a leave of absence from work (see post #6).  I was deep in the state of confusion about what had transpired in my marriage.  I was trying to make sense of it all.  And when I stopped and thought of things that way, I started feeling less depressed.  In fact, I began to actually feel good.  I had come pretty far.  I had moved on from my ex and put myself out there for new and better things.  This was progress.  I'd say the post divorce check in made me realize that overall things were looking pretty positive.  Positive indeed.

345 : Feel the Love

My ex brought the kids home last Sunday evening right at the 7:00 hour.  We had agreed to this time, and even though I knew it was their bed time, I selfishly wanted every extra minute to myself that I could get.  As predicted, they returned excited to see me but more so happy to be back in their home, with their toys and their "shows".  I asked my ex to help me get them right to bed upon their return.  And he did.  So together we tag teamed the two rug rats who fought pajamas and the overall concept that it was time to go to bed.  And then the most amazing thing happened.  They both began asking for me.  They were both tired and crying and at that exact moment, they were refusing their father because they only wanted their mama.  Now I know that my boys love me.  I don't doubt this.  Yet, they see me every day and they do not see their dad.  So when they whine for daddy day in and day out, I know it is just because they don't get to see him, but I'd be lying if I said it didn't sting a little still.  I was the present parent, so I was often set aside on a daily basis.  But that night, upon their return, it was clear that there was only one person they both wanted to get them ready for bed, to read them a story, to hold them and cuddle with them in that moment.  Me.  The satisfaction was overwhelming, I couldn't help but beam a little in the moment.  They wanted me!  It felt so good that even though the bedtime routine was a complete disaster that evening, I still had a smile plastered to my face.  It was exactly what I needed at that moment.

344 : Check Your Credit…Often

Over a decade ago, in what feels like another lifetime, I was a victim of identity theft.  It wasn't your typical identity theft story, either.  It was quite the situation.  My wallet was stolen.  Okay, fair enough.  This happens to the best of us from time to time.  I was diligent about following up with all the appropriate institutions- banks, credit bureaus, and even filed a police report.  I thought I had it all covered.  And then one day I received an $18,000 hospital bill from Michael Reese Hospital for the delivery of a child I never had.  The hospital, which no longer exists today, was on the south side of the city, and through multiple doctor bills, I learned that "i" had been a substance abuser at the time of my delivery.  It required a significant amount of time dealing with the hospital, the insurance company, even more time with the credit bureaus and extensive time with the police.  In the end, they never caught the woman.  And my "child" was never found either.  (Although, apparently my name was on the birth certificate so this story may not be over just yet).  Yes, you'd think I had paid my dues after all of that.  But no, it continued to haunt me down the road.  When I went to purchase my first condo, back when I was 28, I was just a few weeks away from closing when my mortgage broker notified me that I no longer qualified for the loan I was expecting.  Oh yes, the thief had not only used my information for medical help, they had opened a cell phone in my name.  And it wasn't until I was about to close on my condo that the delinquency notice finally showed up on my credit report (thus changing the terms on my loan).   Needless to say, it was an incredibly stressful time that was eventually sorted out but I vowed to remain diligent about my credit forever after that.  I would never be a victim of this again.  Many years passed.  I got married.  I had a child.  I had a second child.  I got divorced.  And now here I was once again in the process of looking for another home to purchase.  When I made the offer on the town house last week (see post #340) I had spoken to a broker earlier that day for a quick pre approval conversation.  Fortunately, I had maintained a healthy pulse on my finances since 'the incident' so many years ago and even again post divorce.  Yet, there were a couple surprises that popped up when the broker pulled up my credit report.  Now mind you, my score was excellent.  However, out of the 3 bureaus, there were 2 that had a couple of my ex husband's info on them.  And while these accounts were not in delinquency, they certainly weren't helping me.  So once again, I found myself reaching out to all the bureaus to explain myself and have certain accounts investigated.  It wasn't nearly as complicated as it had been all those years ago, but it was still one more thing to do.  I was annoyed at this.  Although after everything I had been through in the past year, I could deal with it.  My tolerance for irritations, annoyances and ability to deal with overall shitty things had gotten significantly higher.  I still didn't like it, but I certainly knew how to handle it.  I'd dispute the shit out of this stuff and get my score even higher for when I was ready to make another offer.  So there!

343 : The Divided Weekend

This past weekend my sister and her family came to Chicago to visit us during their Spring Break.  Her kids were a few years older than my boys but the cousins all loved seeing each other.  Unfortunately, the way the weekends lined up, my kids would be with their dad during this visit.  However,  my Ex was traveling the entire week before, so he requested to get the boys on Saturday instead of the normal Friday evening.  His request invited my request of keeping the boys until Saturday afternoon so they could spend some time with their cousins.  And fortunately for all of us, my Ex agreed without a hitch.  I was excited to see my sister and her family, but more importantly I was excited for my boys to see her kids.  They loved their cousins!  We hung out Friday night and spent the morning together doing all sorts of fun things.  Before I knew it, it was time to take my kids to their dad's.  It was the first time that I could remember, where I had dropped them off and then went back to my family without my kids.  My niece and nephews knew I was now divorced, but I still think it was surprising to see their cousins leave them when they still had another night in town.  I wasn't sure how the exchange would make me feel.  I had done it many times in the past, but this weekend in particular, having my family here, I wasn't sure if it would feel different at all.  I learned, though, that it didn't.  I dropped my kids off and then resumed my time with my sister and her family.  And I still enjoyed myself.  I was able to relax since I didn't have two little ones to feed and get to bed.  I enjoyed some wine. I had some great conversations with my sister and brother in law but most of all, I felt very comfortable.  This was a win for me.  My new life wasn't feeling so new anymore.  It was just my life and I was getting more and more comfortable with it.  I felt thankful to recognize this and poured myself another glass of wine.

342 : Message Received

My oldest son had been inquiring about his dad a lot lately (see post #324).  It was often difficult to hear.  I had spent so long working on myself to adjust to this life change; hearing his questions brought back many of the questions I had myself.  I tried to be sensitive to his needs.  When he asked for his dad, I tried to identify the next time he would see his dad and focus him on that.  Our new life was still confusing for all of us, but I needed to be emotionally available and supportive to him.  The questions continued.  And each time, I tried to answer from a place of calm.  And then the other day, I witnessed an exchange between my boys.  My youngest was whining that he wanted daddy.  Before I could address him, my oldest jumped in to comfort his brother.

You want daddy?  He's not here right now, but it's okay.  It's okay, honey.  

I was taken back by the response and support he was now giving his younger brother.  It wasn't the exact way I phrased it to him, but the message had gotten through.  They were both longing for more from their dad, and I wasn't confident they would ever get it.  But they had me.  And more importantly, they had each other.  The message I was sending had been received and it was now being passed on.  And as I watched the two of them in that moment, I felt something flood my heart:  pride.

341 : Everything Happens for a Reason

Well, I didn't get the townhouse.  It's okay.  I'm okay.  It obviously wasn't  meant to be, right?  I still needed to unwind with some wine last night.  A lot of wine.  More to come tomorrow.

340 : Play the Hand You Were Dealt

So I made an offer on the townhouse yesterday.  I still don't know yet if they accepted.  There were multiple offers on the table at the time I made mine, and unfortunately I had no idea what they were or how mine compared.  I asked my realtor if I would be able to write a letter to distinguish myself in some way.  He liked the idea and noted that people were getting more and more creative these days given the market.  Yes, I was going to play the abandoned single mom card again.  But come on, if I was actually in this situation, certainly there must be some benefit from it, right?  And how much longer would I able to use this?  So, I sat down to comprise my letter.  Perhaps by humanizing the offer a little, I could influence the seller.  Perhaps not, but if I didn't try I would never know.


To the Owner:
My name is Molly McNamara and I am really interested in purchasing your town home! I understand you are probably entertaining multiple offers, so I wanted to share some personal details about why my family wants to call this place our home.
I am a single mother of 2 young boys, Jack and Rory. We are currently living in the city. My husband (now Ex-husband) walked out on us just over a year ago when my boys were 6 months and 2 years old. Needless to say, it’s been a very challenging year but we have all grown closer in spite of it. 
I am looking for a place to make a FRESH start and raise my family in a home full of love. My good friends live in Glenview and I’ve enjoyed spending time in the area. In fact, I’ve focused my search on this area in particular because I feel very comfortable in the neighborhood, I know the schools are excellent, and I have a tremendous support system nearby. I’ve looked at several places and feel your home truly offers everything I want to provide for my family. 
I hope you will consider my offer and thank you for your time.

Now I just had to sit back, wait it out and hope for the best.

339 : The Next Move

I am going to look at a townhouse today.  In fact, by the time you read this, I may have already gone to see it.  I've gone to see several prospective properties, so you might wonder, what is so special about this one today?  1) I like it and 2) I can afford it.  Woo Hoo!  This is progress.  The bad part that accompanies this is that there are others out there who like it and can afford it and as a result there are already multiple offers on the unit.  The last thing I want to do is get myself into a bidding war.  But I owe it to myself to go see the property first hand, and make a call based on what my gut says.  Despite all of this, there is something that makes me feel a little nervous.  I know, it's buying a place that is smaller and far more expensive than what I grew up in (although after 13 years in Chicago, my cost of living gage has adjusted accordingly).  It would be strange if I didn't feel a little nervous in making such a big decision, right?  I don't think that is it entirely though.  I have been thinking, talking and planning for 'what is next' for so long, that to think that it could actually be here kind of freaks me out.  Again, it would be weird if it didn't a little, I know, but it still gives me that nervous feeling just the same.  I know it's time.  I know I'm ready to move to a new place.  I know I will appreciate owning a unit that I pay less for monthly than I currently pay in rent.  I know that long term the suburbs are the best decision for raising my kids and my support network of friends will help make the transition so much easier.  Yet still, I feel nervous.  And after having spent a very long time learning how to manage my anxiety appropriately (see previous posts #5, #6, #7 and #9) it is uncomfortable to have it resurface just a little.  I suppose change is always a little nerve wrecking and that doesn't necessarily mean it's bad.  Plus you have to invest yourself in things to get where you want to be.  This means being vulnerable…even with housing and that word alone is scary to me still.  But I am still moving forward, so I am not paralyzed by fear - just slightly nervous about it.  I think this is a positive thing.  I am going to continue to tell myself this all day today.  And regarding the townhouse, we will just have to see what happens.

338 : My Response to Gwyneth Paltrow

I'm a little late to this one.  I just heard the other day that Gwyneth and her husband Chris Martin were separating.  I hate hearing this about anyone- famous or not.  As someone who has been through a divorce with children, I can sympathize with the position they are in.  I can relate to the emotional roller coaster that will unfold and the challenges that lie ahead.  Yes, I do not wish this on anyone.  However,  after I learned this news, I then learned about the comment Gwyneth made to E! about her struggles as an actress vs. those 'office' moms.

"I think it's different when you have an office job, because it's routine and, you know, you can do all the stuff in the morning and then you come home in the evening. When you're shooting a movie, they're like, 'We need you to go to Wisconsin for two weeks,' and then you work 14 hours a day and that part of it is very difficult. I think to have a regular job and be a mom is not as, of course there are challenges, but it's not like being on set."
-Gwyneth Paltrow

As a mother myself, I found this comment to be completely disrespectful but as a working single mother I found it to be outright offensive.  What I wouldn't give to have my mornings to get things done.  Could someone please explain to me how this happens?  My oldest son, age 3, wakes up the minute I do (if not earlier) so I am barely able to complete a thought without having someone tugging at me in the morning.  And then my youngest is also beginning to wake up and want my attention at the same time.  It seems no matter how much earlier I set the alarm, it makes no difference; somehow they both just know when I am awake.  The other morning, in fact, I allowed my 3 year old to capture the moment because, well, I needed to keep him entertained so I could attempt to finish getting ready for work.  This is my life.

The hours of 9-5 no longer exist in the professional world.  My phone is buzzing at all hours with texts and emails.  Not only is it normal that people respond to said emails and texts at all hours, it is expected.  And if I chose to punch out and not respond immediately, I am only punishing myself because it is just one more thing to do the next day.  Plus I have kids, so I have to make myself available constantly or I will be written off  as 'just being a mom' instead of the accomplished professional I am.  Because of this, I bring my computer home every night and often find myself working for several hours after my kids go to bed, just to keep up.

Which brings us to the evenings.  I come home from work exhausted, hungry and wanting to do nothing more than put on my comfy yoga pants and snuggle with my kids.  What tends to happen though, is that after having been gone all day, my children are usually riled up to see me.  This prolongs them going to bed, which then prolongs my ability to make dinner for myself.  Should I chose to leave the dishes in the sink or not wash my pans, I will only hate myself more in the morning.  So every night I leave the kitchen tidy (sometimes before I even sit down to eat!) and I prep my coffee for the next day.  Then I pour myself a glass of wine and tune into to something that requires very little thinking power to follow.  This is pretty much my routine day in and day out.  It does not include any of the additional gems that make life fun like grocery shopping, doing laundry, working out or heaven forbid a night of socializing.  On top of all of this, I have to live with the constant guilt on both ends- work and home.  I always feel like I am failing at both, even though I scold myself simultaneously for thinking such a thing.  Somehow I am doing it, though.  With very little help from my Ex, with no family in the state, I am somehow dual pathing my life of mother and working professional.  And I'm doing it pretty damn successfully.

Will it ever get easier?  I'm not sure.  The balance of work and kids will most likely always be a sensitive topic for me.  But the divorce topic has become less so, so I have that going for me.  Gwyneth will get there too.  It will probably take time, and it won't always be easy, but she will get there.  And in the meantime, if she needs some support, I know of a great blog.

337 : To My Friend, Anjali

I began this blog 11 months ago as an outlet for myself working through such a major life change.  As I approach the final month of my writing, I am beginning to feel very reflective as to how far I've come.  I may never be able to get in all the personal shout out's and thank you's that are necessary but I am going to try.  Today's post in particular, is to my very good friend, my very first friend: Anjali.  Anjali showed up at my parent's house on Bromley sometime in the early 80's asking my mom if there was anyone in the household her age that she could play with?  I was in my room, perched at the barbie dollhouse and my mom walked in with a little girl following.  And there began our beautiful friendship.  Her parents chose to pursue other professional interests a couple years later, which resulted in a move from Michigan to Florida.  I was heartbroken at the time.  I can say that with complete honestly.  I was literally heartbroken when she left.  I had lost my first best friend.  But yet somehow we remained in touch.  During the adolescent years it was a little tough- we exchanged letters from time to time.  And then I even went down to Florida for a visit.  Our communication was limited but somehow there was still a connection.  I think we lost each other almost entirely during college- but who didn't lose themselves a little at that time?  And then of course, we emerged as adults and reconnected post college years learning we had so much more in common that we ever knew to begin with.  And that was that.  We were back in each other's lives for good.  I stood up in her wedding.  She gave a reading in mine.  I admired her ambition, her hard work, and her ability to juggle it all.  She made it look so easy.  She was  career driven and a loving mother.  The perfect oxymoron of goals, yet a position so many of us found ourselves in.  When I first learned my then husband was unhappy in our marriage, I called my friend.  She listened.  She gave me sound advice.  She listened some more.  She did not always say what I wanted to hear, but I valued her opinion.  And there one thing that she consistently reminded me of more than any other person in my life.  Don't give up all that you've worked for professionally.  During my LOA (see post #6) my job was my lowest priority.  I was trying to process everything and focused on how I would get through this.  My first thought was to return to my native Michigan where I would have a larger support system.  And I was willing to start over professionally at that moment to make it happen.  It wasn't even starting over.  It would've been taking a step back in my career.  I validated this option to myself multiple times.  I think every other person in my life supported a move as well (which I also needed to hear at the time, so I'm not criticizing that)  but it was Anjali who reminded me about my career.  A career that I had invested in, I had earned my spot through 12 years of service, I had opportunity in front of me and I had something that was all mine.  I had been so emotional and confused, I actually considered throwing that away.  And now…just over a year later…I can say with complete sincerity, I am so glad I did not.  I do not love my job every single day that I am there.  I do, however, feel valued.  I do feel like I have some control over my future.  I do feel like the options in front of me are there because I have earned them, and those for which I haven't yet earned, are still achievable.  I may not be satisfied with the position forever, but if I leave it will be because I chose to leave - not because I make an emotional decision out of fear.  Until this very moment, I don't think I have thanked my friend for this sound and consistent perspective she provided.  A point of view I desperately needed.  So…Anjali…thank you.  Your support means the world to me.  And your professional guidance was right.  Thank you.