February

It’s hard to believe that we just rang in the new year and so many things have already happened that could last a lifetime.  Yet here we are, midway through February.

One nice thing—DD2 has a birthday tomorrow!  She is a bright, loving, happy, energetic little sister who loves fiercely with all of her heart.  She embraces life at the speed of 100mph, unless she’s asleep, and honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if she was dreaming at 100mph, too.

I’m looking forward to celebrate all that DD2 is tomorrow—the coming week end is a dad week end, so we’re doing her party with her friends the week end after.  And then entering girl scout cookie selling season, oh my!

I feel like I’m in a holding pattern—being present for my kids, and doing my best to stay in the moment of whatever we’re doing, making valentine’s treat bags for their classmates, driving down the road to my yearly mammogram since they were off school the other day and so making ye old boob smash a normal event for them to witness (not the actual exam, but the going to and from, lol—although I let them look at the scans afterwards and my youngest had lots of questions.  The tween pretended not to listen, but she was hanging onto every word, so that was cool), since one day they will have to do it themselves.  Hanging in the library reading in the kids section and checking out books, until The Greatest Showman starts at the theater to use up an old gift card, so the movies only cost $1.42 cents, woo hoo! 

And then there’s the tide of grief rising and falling with the passing of my mom as well as juggling through ex comments and emails, and generally just trying to get by.  I’m grateful for the support of my family—my hubby and his family—and my brother and I have gotten closer, texting pretty regularly.

On grief—there was a point the other day where I was so upset that I couldn’t go back in time, to that week when we were in the snow with my mom, seeing her every day.  Wishing that we could just be there for a little while longer, even staying in the hotel and listening to my daughter fall asleep and thinking about the following day’s plans.  Sitting with my mom and reading to her.  If I could only have those moments back, if I could just re-live them and sit in them for a little while longer.  I’m not asking for my whole life back, just those few minutes.  Why can’t I have them?

On co-parenting—figuring out a way to take a deep breath and stepping back, knowing no one is going to ‘rescue’ me from the nastiness that comes.  That I can only cope with what I can cope with and I have to learn to throw the rest of the rubbish into the literal rubbish can.  Don’t expect more.

On worrying—what can I do about the worrying?  Worrying will not bring my mom back.  Worrying will not bring the time with my daughters back.  My worries enter my dreams—I recently had a nightmare that my youngest had fallen into an ice pond and I was struggling to jump into the water to reach her and save her, someone was holding me back from diving into the water, my head was already submerged and I could see her just a few body lengths away, but then I woke up.

Sometimes, being a grown up is hard work.  Maybe it is all the time.  And maybe it’s how we rise to meet the day, the hour, the minute, the evening that changes our perspectives on what’s hard and what’s easy.  I’m not wishing for easy all the time, but I’d love to go back to sleep for a few minutes and dream that I saved her.