Yes, we have a good life here and today is a day that I feel more gratitude than ever.
I was sitting at my painting table last night, near midnight, realizing I had eaten only sandy donuts for dinner.
As I cleaned out the beach bag from the day, I pulled out the box of “Munchkins” we had picked up that morning on our way to the beach.
Even funnier, I “smuggled” them into my mouth, not wanting the kids to see I was finishing them off.
They weren’t missing much, I mean, sand=sand.
In standing there over the sink eating sandy Munchkins, I was thinking about how simple our lives are here. It didn’t used to be, but in moving here and omitting unwanted stress and choas in my life, it just kind of ended up that way. I suppose it was a subconscious thing.
Back when I was married, or even before I was married, I always needed to know what was going to happen next. What time would I go to the grocery store that day? What time is dinner? What day will I use to clean the house and can I do it without being interrupted? If anything got pushed off course, I was unwilling to accept that I had to be flexible.
I fly by the seat of my pants now.
I can make plans and when I do, I appreciate that I have something to look forward to and organize. The difference now is that if something gets altered, I can actually cope and be flexible and go with it.
The biggest problem is when I want something to happen and I am waiting for the plans to fall into place. I realize, I need to let go.
“Stuff” happens for a reason.
I drove home from Boston on Friday evening after dropping the girls at their dad’s house and sat in horrid traffic and blasted Idina Menzel on my new Belkin fm iPod tuner thingy. (okay, I totally forget what it’s called but now I can actually listen to my ipod in the car)
By the time I got home, it was almost eight and so I got some work done, cleaned up the house from the kids’ two weeks with me, messaged with Ohio for a bit. It’s interesting how I start to feel disconnected from him over a time and then when we text or email or talk on the phone as we did on Friday, as well, I fall right back into how I felt when he was here. It’s a cycle of promise one day and hopelessness and frustration another day. And this is where the simple flexibility comes in.
And just feeling what I feel and being okay with that.
Then I just went to bed.
Way before midnight
THAT was unexpected.
The rest of the weekend I spent floating around getting things done, getting my hair cut, painting, I had breakfast with my piano guy before my guitar lesson. It appears I can actually LEARN the guitar up until this point, aside from totally stinking at the bar chords. But that takes practice.
I went to the piano bar with some friends drank a little and sang a few.
Some old guy at the bar called me “precious”.
THAT was a new one.
I had a conversation with my father, one that upset me to a point where I actually felt I DRANK to cover the pain of it. He called on Saturday as I was driving down to the piano bar and the discussion that ensued was one that brought up alot in me that put me on the defense, enraged and hurt me. I was reminded of the parent I would never ever be to my girls because I consciously work to not raise them the way my parents raised my sister and me. And I was reminded that in time I will eventually learn that these things have nothing to do with me, but my dad’s own issues…and it can all just roll off my back.
This time, I just needed a bit of booze to help that rolling movement.
I am due to write about the parents sometime soon.
Despite that little setback, the entire weekend was totally up in the air and felt good. I had no idea what I was doing or where I would be at any given moment. I didn’t expect to find myself sitting in my underwear in bed at 9am on Sunday, reading the paper and drinking coffee. The last time I did that was probably a year ago. (but perhaps I was wearing clothes)
Fly by the seat of my pants.
And when I picked the girls up on Monday morning, I felt refreshed and happy about myself and secure in knowing I can get through the next two weeks as the sole parent of my two girls.
And now, as I sit drinking my coffee this morning, licking out the remainder of the vanilla pudding I fixed myself for breakfast, I think about how there are only five more weeks until school starts for the girls.
ME! ME! ME!
It is slightly bittersweet, the girls will be with me much less. But also, summer, for them, is sometimes not so good. Despite our time outside running around and swimming and catching sea creatures, the lack of structure puts them (us all) out of sorts. And they need more stimulation than what I am doing for them on some days. Especially when I am worn out and distant and feeling disconnected.
I will have to have things more together during the school year, between homework, extracurriculars, my work, packing lunches, getting them to school on time and picking them up and making sure the afternoon meltdowns don’t result in my own crazy freak-outs.
It will just be different. But like the summer, it will be good.