Sometimes I Just Cry

Because things are hard. And then I think about how thankful I should be and am for the things I have in my life.

But it's not the things. I never expected to be here. Days away from turning 43 and separated from my husband. Longing to be divorced from him because I simply do not recognize him. I am jealous of couples I know who have challenges and are successfully working through things because they are working together. That requires a partner, though. And if there is one thing I know after 2.5 years of weekly counseling, it is that I did not have a partner. And that both saddens and angers me.

I am not supposed to be raising my children by myself. I am not supposed to be providing for my children by myself. I am not supposed to be without comfort and support.

I am not supposed to be dreading Mother's Day because I know for sure it will be just another day in my house this year. I never received a gift anyway . . . but at least I would sometimes get a physical break that day. Not this year.

And I am tired. If my day does not start by 5, then I can count on being late getting Coco to school and then myself to work. And I am very thankful these days for a great employer and manager because I do not have to stress about being late. My day ends around 10 - 10:30. The kids' bedtime routine still takes at least an hour. And with the separation being so fresh, I am laying down with both of them each night. Gian needs it more because of his age, Coco more because she needs it emotionally right now. Sometimes I fall asleep, of course. Other times, I am able to get out of their room by 9 pm. But who wants to do dinner dishes and clean up the kitchen and prepare lunches for the next day when they have not yet just taken a moment for themselves and the day is completely gone? Not me. But I have to get back in the habit. I miss knitting. Relaxing. Turning on the television. It is normally 10 days or so between chances to even turn it on.

So, yeah, I am tired.

And I am sad and angry. I want my partner. And to be comforted.

And that's just.not.going.to.happen.

And so sometimes I just cry.

Ch-ch-changes . . .

Looking at these last entries from a year ago seems like a lifetime ago. So much has happened.  Much of it good.  Much of it not so good.  And too much to share in this space.  But glad to be back to it.

My husband and I have separated.

Do you know how much a grown man eats? About 2/3 rds of this small family's food budget.

Anyway, we separated on January 21. It is a process. Even when you know without a doubt it is the right decision. What it does to your children is heartbreaking. But staying within a very bad model of what constitutes a marriage is very damaging over a lifetime. Both to me and the children. It is the right decision.  Two and a half years of weekly marital counseling and then three months of individual counseling for myself confirmed it for me.

I never wanted to be divorced. I am a child of divorce. I didn't want what I perceive to be the stigma. I don't want to walk around in public with two children and no wedding ring. And be a statistic.

But that is no reason to remain in a loveless marriage. By his own admission my husband withheld his love from me.

I didn't expect marriage to not require work, but I did expect my husband to actually want to lead, to be a partner, to be excited about our pregnancies since they were planned and we both agreed we wanted children.

This is tough. Even when you want it and know it is right.

I am about to turn 43. This is not really what I expected to be doing at this point in my life.

And I know this entry seems to be all about me. Well, it is because it is my space. As a single, working mother without any in home child care, there is not much else that is all about me.

Transitions between homes are the toughest for my daughter right now. She began seeing a child therapist 3 weeks ago. And I must credit my husband for insisting I get that going. I do believe that the early intervention will be beneficial in the long run. My daughter is a bit melancholic, plus she's the oldest, so this is hitting her pretty hard. And my son sanguine, so he is right there to balance things out and I am so thankful for his sweet innocence. He will be 4 in 11 days.

And so I am knitting a birthday/Easter sweater for him. He is my most grateful knitting recipient . . . acknowledging each hand knit with a heartfelt, "oh, Mommy, I WUV it!!" What knitting mama wouldn't love that? And so yes, he gets Madeline Tosh. But I am bummed about the skeins. I started with the off skein. And I did not alternate skeins.

Speaking of knitting, a very special person gave me a very thoughtful knitting related gift. I gave it back. Not because I didn't absolutely love it and the obvious thoughtfulness behind it, but because I was moved by the Spirit to return everything related to this individual. I didn't think about why so much when I was packing up the things I returned. I just followed the leading. In retrospect, I think because holding on to those things would cause me to hold onto this person I needed to let go of. If this person ever becomes a part of my life again, I won't need those things. If this person does not, I will not want any reminders of what we were not able to actualize.

I know this last paragraph seems random, but it is not. Certainly not to the right audience.