312 : Life is Precious

I had a mammogram the other morning.  My second mammogram in 6 months.  This may be surprising to some.  I'm not even 40 yet.  But my aunt died of breast cancer at the tender age of 35, so my doctor suggested I start going for regular mammograms.  I'm sad to say that I don't remember all that much about my aunt.  A few random things here and there like how she used to make delicious grilled cheese sandwiches on wheat bread in an old school panini press. I can still remember exactly what those grilled cheese sandwiches tasted like.  However, I don't remember much about my aunt as a person.  My aunt left behind a husband and two small children: a daughter/my cousin Sara who was my same age and a son/my cousin Matt who was younger.  I was in the first grade when my aunt passed.  And yet, as the years passed, I saw how different both Sara and Matt's lives would've been had their mom been around still. It's not to say that either of them had a bad life.  That is not the case.  Both of them were survivors.  They were tough.  And they always had each other. But it's undeniable that their lives would've been different had their mom not been taken at such a young age.  This was a universal truth that I'd known my whole life.  When my doctor suggested I schedule my first mammogram, I expected it to be routine.  And it was for the most part.  However, I learned that my boobs had a lot of calcifications in them.  These calcifications could be a symptom of certain strands of breast cancer.  Based on the reading from my exam, my doctor could not measure if these were new developments or simply characteristics of my boobs that had always been there.  The only way to find out was to go back in 6 months for a follow up appointment.  And that brought me back to yesterday morning.  I honestly had not thought about my previous mammogram since the I had been there just 6 months ago.  Now that I was back, though, I began to think of all the various scenarios that could play out following this appointment.  I thought about how I would feel should I learn that I actually had breast cancer.  I thought about how this would impact my parents.  Now that I was older, I thought about how my dad must have felt seeing this happen to his sister.  How my grandma must've felt witnessing this with her daughter. Lastly, what my children would do should anything ever happen to me.  The thought made me instantly feel ill.  I couldn't imagine what it must've been like for Sara or Matt to lose their mom at such a young age.  And I couldn't imagine how my aunt felt knowing her days were numbered.  Thinking about your own mortality certainly made one stop and reflect on how precious life was.  It reminded me to slow down.  To say thank you.  To try harder to be better.  To give more.  To be my best self.  I was at my appointment for almost 3 hours before I was released to go home.  My reading had been normal.  They were comfortable with what they saw and I could leave.  I was relieved.  But also reminded once again how lucky I was.  When you lined up 'cancer' next to 'divorce' there really was no comparison.  Both of them sucked the life out of you.  One of them could actually end you and the latter just left you feeling deflated.  I was lucky to be where I was.  Life was precious and it never hurt to stop and acknowledge this once again.  Thank goodness I was where I was.  I would be okay.

311 : It's Good to Be Needed

My mom came into town last night.  My boys were excited all day at the thought of seeing Nana.  I actually had plans that night and was looking forward to getting a little break from my daily responsibilities.  I came home, though, and was instantly bombarded with motherly duties.  My youngest had been battling a slight cold and woke up coughing.  This led to some crying and when I went to check on him it woke up his older brother.  They both became more alert at the sight of me, as I had not put them to bed earlier.  My oldest immediately wanted to go into my bed and sleep with me (no surprise there) but it was my youngest that seemed to be the most out of sorts.  Perhaps he was partly asleep still, but the cold he was battling didn't seem to help much.  My mom offered to help, but the little guy just wanted me.  There wasn't much more to say other than it was good to be needed.  Very good indeed.

310 : Why Are You So Angry?

I said from the beginning that this would be a positive blog and I think I have been true to that up to this point.  (For the most part at least).  However, part of my journey the past year has been to navigate this new relationship with my now Ex husband.  We had two children together, therefore we would always be in each others lives.  Our interactions had ups and downs to say the very least, but it seemed most recently that things had gotten incredibly heated every time we communicated.  Our divorce had been official for months.  Our relationship was over even longer than that.  How was it possible this person could be so incredibly angry with me still?  I will admit, I was not the type of person who handled it well when someone did not like me.  No, I was not an egomaniac, but I did like to think I was a people pleaser.  I liked to make others feel good.  I tried to be warm and friendly and accepting of those around me.  When someone was not open to me as a person, it bothered me to the point that I tried harder to get them to like me.  I liked being liked, okay?  My Ex had left me.  He had chosen to internalize his feelings and shut me out.  He had chosen to move out of our home.  He had chosen to end our marriage.  And yet, lately it felt like every time I saw him, he treated me as though I had done this to him.  He looked at me with resentment and anger.  It felt so unfair.  He was off living with another woman, pursuing a different path that he had chosen (unlike me where the decision had been made for me) and yet it still felt as though he blamed me for everything.  Now to my loyal readers and friends who get concerned whenever they read about anything regarding my Ex- worry not -nothing new had transpired in the past week.  But the recent exchanges we had continued to haunt me.  I had done everything in my power to accept the situation and move forward.  I did not want to be dragged back down to the dark place where he resided.  I was talking to a friend about the question that continued to weigh heavily on my mind: why was my Ex so angry with me?  It took an outsider to remind me about what my life had looked like the past year versus what my Ex husband's life had looked like.  She pointed out how he continued to spiral downhill while I instead was creating a brighter, happier future.  I had accepted the situation and moved on.  I felt thankful for the perspective she provided.  It was impossible not let be impacted by him at times, but I felt relieved to be reminded of where I was.  I wouldn't waste any more time thinking about this.

309 : Single Moms Rock

As a single mom, I had a deeper respect for all the moms before me that had done this on their own.  And for all the moms out there that were currently raising kids on their own.  Being a parent was a lot of work, but being a single mom was A LOT of work.  As I joined this new group, I became much more aware of other women out there in a similar position.  They inspired me.  Just as I hoped I was inspiring someone else, I felt inspired to hear stories of others.  Single moms were everywhere.  Landing on their feet and conquering the world.  I was watching the Academy Awards the other night, and was nearly brought to tears by Jared Leto's acceptance speech.  I know that may sound sappy, and admittedly it came at the end of a long weekend, but I felt personally acknowledged as he thanked his mother.  It was possible for one woman to raise 2 boys to be smart, talented, successful men of the world.  I would never get tired to being reminded of that.  There were so many ways to describe me other than just 'single mother' but if I was going to have that title, I might as well own it.  Better yet, I might as well rock it.

308 : There Goes My Baby

Every parent knows, that you have a special connection with all your children.  My oldest son was well, the first.  There was nothing like experiencing everything for the first time.  It was magical.  So much so, that I wondered what it would be like to have a second.  Would I love him as much?  Well of course I would.  But then again, my connection with my younger son was always different because my Ex moved out when my youngest was only 6 months old.  For this reason, I often felt like my youngest was "my" son versus "our" son.  I knew that was not really the case but that was how I felt.  My Ex and I never really had the opportunity to raise him together like we did with our first son.  It was just me on my own and then my Ex on his own.  This past week, I witnessed something very incredible.  I watched my youngest transform, right in front of my very eyes.  He went from being a baby, to a little boy.  It was really quite incredible.  He had been growing at a rapid pace since birth and he was always trying to keep up with his big brother.  But now his vocabulary was expanding faster than I could believe.  Every day there was something new that came out of his mouth.  He was aware of EVERYTHING around him.  I'm sure this didn't just happen overnight, but it really felt like it.  The little guy who used to just cuddle into me with his thumb in his mouth was emerging as his own person.  And he was making his presence known, too.  I think it hit me the hardest when I went to put him to bed the other night.  He layed down in his crib and actually let me tuck him in.  Yup, I covered him with blankets.  That may sound silly because it was the dead of winter and all kids should be covered, right?  Well that was not the case with this little guy before.  He would curl into a ball and just sleep without any blankets.  In fact, if I attempted to cover him, he would throw the blankets out of his bed.  And now, he was laying there like a little man just tucked in like perfection.  There was a part of me that felt sad in seeing this.  My baby was no more.  He was becoming a little man.  I was raising TWO little men.  And then the sadness faded and I started to feel the only other emotion that was appropriate at this very moment: PRIDE.

307 : Buy Yourself Flowers

If you don't do it, who will?

306 : Up, Up and Away!

Before I had kids, I had high aspirations of the kind of parent I would be.  I always wanted to be the perfect mom, just like my mom had been for me.  Selfless. Talented.  Creative.  Generous.  And I on my best days, I was all of these things.  It was hard to be that perfect all the time, though.  Especially when the realities of life settled in.  I was raising two kids alone for the most part.  I couldn't be just the fun, creative mom every weekend, because we had things we had to get done.  And no, this was not just me being obsessive compulsive, this was just life.  We needed to grocery shop every weekend.  Laundry needed to get done.  The house needed to be cleaned.  There were always just things- necessary things- that needed attention.  This on top of being the selfless, talented, creative, generous, super cool mom that I wanted to be.  So, I decided to take some action and what better way to do this than Pinterest?  I created a board with craft ideas for my kids.  I could use this to plan activities.  It was good for all of us.  They enjoyed it.  I felt invested and rewarded for it.  Win Win.  Last weekend, we made tiny helicopters out of egg cartons. The activity in total lasted maybe 20 minutes.  But it was worth it.  I had my son's undivided attention from the word scissors.  We got to create something together.  Win Win.