‘Divorce’ Articles at Sweetnicks

Book Review: Raising Great Kids on Your Own

October 23, 2012 · Narrative

This past weekend, The Ex and I had a miscommunication about where we were meeting on Saturday. Even though I had confirmed it the night before. The end result was no big deal really. It just resulted in a harried 20 minutes and Madeline being a bit late for her soccer game.

Life goes on.

As I picked her up from Nick’s field to race over to hers, The Ex cocked his head to one side and said, “You know, sometimes I wonder about you.”

He was kidding, as evidenced by the smile on his face and the chuckle that followed. And knowing that, I didn’t respond other than a giant eye roll, masked by my favorite aviator sunglasses.

But inside? I bristled.

I juggle a lot. Two kids, two different schools, two sports teams, Cub Scouts, work. And then everything else. Laundry, cooking, cleaning, freelancing. Parent-teacher conferences, volunteering, permissions slips, homework. Orthodontist appointments. Annual check-ups. By myself. Some days I worry about what I may have forgotten. Other days, the kitchen might be an absolute disaster, but everyone is fed and bathed, and the day ends on a high note because of just that. Because that’s enough.

He meant no harm by the comment. I know this. He was kidding. But I don’t think he realizes how much goes on … on our side. The lion’s share of responsibility falls in my lap. He is able to get up, go to work, go home, eat, shower, sleep. Rinse, lather, repeat. Largely able to be responsible for himself and himself only. Except on the every-other-weekend that has the kids.

And that’s ok.

Because that’s the way it is.

But man, don’t wonder about me. Because I might forget something occasionally.

But I’ve got this.

In spades.

Raising happy, confident, kind kids that are self-sufficient, independent thinkers is my ultimate goal. And is that ever a lot of pressure. But it’s the most important thing entrusted to me. So I research. I read. I listen. I rely on instinct a lot. I make decisions based on gut. And what I think is right. And so far? So good.

I sometimes read parenting books. And sometimes single parenting books. Not necessarily because I’m seeking answers. But more so because more knowledge and more perspective is never a bad thing really.

I happened upon a book from David & Lisa Frisbie recently, Raising Great Kids on Your Own (A Guide and Companion for Every Single Parent), and just finished it.

I swear, by page 10, my notebook was out, I was scribbling in it, and seriously bristling.

…

Three Years Ago When Our Lives Changed

April 4, 2012 · Narrative

“I think The Husband and I just agreed to separate.”

I had been lying in bed with my laptop on my lap, working on a freelance article, and chatting with Sarah, as we are oft to do. Since we both do a lot of freelancing and sometimes work late hours, GoogleTalk is that little lifesaver window on the computer screen, making you feel like you have company while you are working.

The (Ex-) Husband came into the bedroom. We had a three minute conversation. And it was done.

Just like that. Life changed.

As I typed those words to Sarah, who was the first to know, I was probably in shock.

That we just changed the dynamic of our family. Rewrote the children’s history. Today, exactly three years later, I am sometimes still surprised by the twists and turns we’ve taken.

There was no lingering sense of “How about…” “What if…” “Can we…” In many ways, it was clean.

I think that was a Thursday night. The next night, the kids and I went down the shore while The (Ex-) Husband collected what he wanted. We came back late Sunday. I looked around to see what he took.

His clothes.

Of course.

And a collection of pictures I had on top of the bookshelf in the master bedroom.

Nothing else.

The next week I was just going through the motions. Processing. Reliving our last few days together. A family dinner out together. Light-hearted and tender e-mails and texts just the day before.

Life is funny like that. One day you think it’s ok. Then you blink.

And it’s not.

…

Finding Inner Resolve: Lessons from Dorothy

July 22, 2010 · Narrative

A friend said to me last week, “I’ve said it before. I don’t know how you do it.”

I shrugged. I know what he means. I don’t have a concrete explanation. I just do.

Back when I was a happily married mom of two, I would see a single mom and think “I could never do that.” But of course I could.

You never know what resolves you have until you have to put them to use. We can ALL do it. When push comes to shove. When we have to. Whether it be a death in the family. A sudden health crisis. A devastating fire. A job lay-off. A divorce. (And please, I’m not saying these are all equal and the same, just random examples of things we might not be able to predict and have to deal with). You don’t know it’s coming, and you do what you have to do. One foot in front of the other. One breath at a time. One new morning full of sunshine. A clean slate every day and a chance to make better decisions. Good decisions. Good choices. Or just the opportunity to have more choices. Or a clear-cut path.

And so it is with being a single mom. If you’re in the same situation, you know how it is. You don’t HAVE downtime to sit and think about your situation. There are little ones who depend on you to forge the way ahead. To get through it. By any means possible. You just do.

And that’s not to say that every day is rosy. I cringed a little inside when a friend said I was very nonchalant about it last year when it was all fresh. How could I be anything but? How could I serve my children if I was a sniffly mess? As much as I hate that they were (are) a part of it, they save anyone from dwelling. They almost force you to take those first unsure steps and get back on the horse and start riding off (sunset or not).

There has been a theme riding around some of the “mom” and “parenting” blogs lately about keeping it real. Sometimes blogs are all happiness and light, life is perfect, here are my beautiful kids and the wonderful meal that took me five minutes to make. And oh yes, my bake sale contribution of homemade granola bars, my flawless make-up and my happy husband. Some days are like that. Well, here minus the husband! Some days are not. I try to keep it real here, but I don’t want it to be a total downer either, you know? There’s a balance somewhere.

Yes, I think my kids are totally awesome and adorable. Most days, they are. This week, when a friend sent me an e-mail that said I was awesome, I asked him if he could perhaps tell my son how awesome his mom is, because these days I hear “Mom, you’re so mean!” an awful lot. To the point that he now has to give me a DSi game (starting with the newest acquired ones first) every time he says it. Sometimes Madeline gets so mad, fists all balled up in tight little knots, it’s all I can do to wait for a glass of Mom Juice before tossing everyone into bed. Nick stomps in the door, fresh from a day at summer camp, wanting to know “what’s next?” And is completely and utterly disgusted when I am tell him that we have no plans for the evening (because I like to schedule downtime, thankyouverymuch!).

But this is all normal. Ebbs and flows. Real life. I never thought I would be a single mom. But I am. And it’s absolutely fine. We are all fine. Good days and bad days. Just like the families with both a Mom and a Dad in the same house. And the ones without kids. And the ones with two Moms or no Dad at all. And the single Sex in the City girls, NYC or otherwise.

We can all do whatever it is that we have to do. When we need to do it. When we are called to do it. It’s there. Inside you. Whenever you need it. As the conversation with Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz famously went…

Dorothy: Oh, will you help me? Can you help me?
Glinda: You don’t need to be helped any longer. You’ve always had the power to go back to Kansas.
Dorothy: I have?
Scarecrow: Then why didn’t you tell her before?
Glinda: Because she wouldn’t have believed me. She had to learn it for herself.

It’s there where you need it. However often that is. Swear.

Project 365
July 21, 2010, Photo #131

There was a dribble of milk left and he asked if he could just drink from the carton. I said yes. Only because he was finishing it. Years from now, when he’s a teenager (ack!), I might not be asked.