Picking Pumpkins

It turns out that during the holiday season, getting out of bed isn't quite enough! We are a family of many traditions, thanks to me and my insane sense of how I want certain celebrations to feel. I'm determined to carry on with as many of the same traditions as I can this year, even minus a key player. If I do, maybe next year they won't feel so strange. This time last year, I was so sick with my pregnancy through Christmas that many of my plans were shelved until this year when I hoped to do full justice to them. I have a feeling most of those plans will remain on the shelf for another year at least, but we will carry on with the basics. At this time of year, that means our annual trip to the local pumpkin patch. We went with our friends the Bradshaws and finished the evening up with dinner at our favorite BBQ place.

Doesn't Sis just look so excited to be on her first pumpkin picking trip?

It was much colder than it has been in previous years. Thanks to Brit for the extra blanket. I should get points docked off my good mommy card for coming so unprepared.

Beautiful Britny and Gorgeous Gracey (twin 1) - I can be cheesy because I am also being complimentary.

On our way to the pumpkin field. Bubba wanted so badly to be brave, but had a death grip on my arm. We all made it without falling off (this time anyway. I assume that with three kids and only two arms, it will happen eventually. It's good to be prepared).

cute little Gabe (twin 2). Those twins are troopers. They have gone on more fun adventures in their first year of life than I have in my three decades thanks to a summer stay in Alaska.

Junior found his pumpkin right away, which was great because I am the one who had to carry it to the tractor one handed :-)

The Bradshaws went a little further afield.

Little Will (not to be confused with 'Big' Will the cousin)

Josh (or 'Dosh' as both boys refer to him)

Junior is all about staging pictures these days. This is two boys "stuck" in the pumpkin vines.

Bubba next to his pick (I steered them toward pumpkins with stems so I could carry them).

Yes, as a matter of fact, we did color pumpkins again this year (I told you what my excuse last year was and you know what it is this year. No excuses in 2010). Except I took my laziness one notch lower this year and didn't even use paint. I busted out the mega pack of colored sharpies. Don't worry, Grandpa K, who is a master pumpkin carver came earlier in the week to show them how it's done and they also carved pumpkins with J.

Next up: Making a ghost costume for Junior (it sounds like it should be easy, but my son has very specific ideas about how things should match the picture in his head.) We'll see how it goes. It's ironic that of the hundreds of Halloween costumes we combed through, there is no ghost costume to be found. That's just sad. Maybe they stopped getting manufactured around the time people decided that "trunk-or-treat" was a good idea.

Need a Laugh?

I have been known to go back to this video multiple times this summer when I have needed a quick laugh or a pick me up. All little girls dance, but my niece EJ takes it to a whole new level. Check out the video at the end of my sister's post and I dare you not to smile (I think it will be obvious which dancing little girl is the one that makes me laugh, but just in case, she is the one with the pony tail and white shirt...)

Click Here

Learn to be lonely

What can I do for you?

I hear this phrase so often these days and I never take for granted that the asker means what they say. I just wish there was something. I am not entirely without the need for help, but I know that the battle is mine from here on out. I have had more offers of babysitting than I know what to do with, but if anything, I have too much free time on my hands these days. It's feast or famine kid-wise. It's a reminder of my new life when they are gone with their dad and also one when they are here. Neither option is ideal.

I spent enough years being single to know that I was okay on my own if I chose not to get married. However, what I would have done as a single woman is different than my options as a single mommy. I thought I had my future in the bag and was content with that future, but it's been wiped clean and I am back to square one (except with children to care for as well) and I have never been so terrified of the future in my life. My children are the best reason for me to put one foot in front of the other and I will continue to do it, but there is no doubt that single parent loneliness is unlike any other kind. Once you have felt like part of a team, it is difficult to go back to being alone. I understand why parents are supposed to come as pairs. Although I definitely miss someone on hand to help with the day to day nuts and bolts of the actual raising of these kids, what I miss far more is someone to share the joy of them. A dozen times a day, I find myself mentally filing away a funny comment from or observation about the kids only to remember with all the gentleness of a sledgehammer that I have no partner to tell. I have finally trained myself to stop reaching for the phone to text the random kid-isms to the one person who would care most to hear them. I have kind and patient family members and friends who listen to me throughout the day but it does not bring the same satisfaction as sharing a "parent moment." Sis's day to day changes are observed only by me and I don't really like the fact that I am the only adult in the world that she instantly lights up for. She should know her daddy that well too. And she never will.

I'm hoping that I can master being lonely. I hope I can learn to not mind going to bed and waking up alone. I hope that in time, the 5-7 o'clock hour can come and pass without me thinking that most everywhere else, families are going to be watching the door for dad's (and moms, mak...) to walk through them. I hope that I can go through a weekend and want to go out with friends without the downer at the end of the night of realizing that everyone else is going home to somebody. Good friends and family are a wonderful distraction, but don't quite take the place of that one person who is supposed to love you best. I hope that I can go to the store or any other public place and see all the complete families and not feel jealous of them and regretful that I did not appreciate enough what I had when I had it, and stupid that I somehow lost it (in that order). I hope that soon it will not rip at my heart to hear one of my boys casually say something about "when dad comes home." I hope that someday I can forgive myself for being part, even in an innocent way, of giving my children no memories of a unified nuclear family. All they will ever remember is this. I hope I can handle the guilt if they grow up and do something to fracture their own families. I hope that I can soon not feel like being a single mom is painted all over me and that people can tell when they look at me that for whatever reason, I was unable to "hang on to my man". It had never occurred to me to have anything but enormous respect for others who raised their children as a single parent, but I am finding that I am embarrassed to be one myself.

(And I am embarrassed that I feel that way. It's not an emotion that I expected).

I have been told by many that I have a "beautiful life" ahead of me and I am hanging onto that idea like a life raft, but I have to admit I have yet to see land in sight. It has been suggested by some that I will look back and feel like I "dodged a bullet" in hindsight, but it's ironic how much it feels like I am the one who has been shot down. I don't feel like I dodged anything and can't imagine feeling that this is for the best. All I can do is make the best of it.

Despite this, I know positive steps are being taken even if I can't feel the effect of them yet. There needs to come a day when getting out of bed is not a victory, but routine. There needs to come a day when I think about my old life a lot less than I do. There needs to come a day when the kids stop asking about their dad daily and we all accept that he has truly moved on. There needs to come a day when it is not so painful to breathe. There definitely needs to come a time when I am at peace with my life no matter what it is and when I can imagine a different daddy/companion in our home. I am moving forward under the assumption that every time I put one foot in front of the other I am that much closer to that day.

I've been thrown into the deep end of a sink or swim situation and I intend to swim like there is a fabulous tomorrow. However, I am acutely aware that this is a solo swim. I may take advantage of a life preserver now and then, but I won't get anywhere if I don't do the kicking. To everyone that has helped carry me this far, please don't be offended if I refuse your life preserver. Just know that I have to see how far I can go. And that I refuse to sink. And that I am not too proud to ask for help.

Swimming or stepping, I am taking it on faith that I will get there because the people who tell me so love me and I trust them. I am giving hard weeks like this one up to God because I have felt my burden lift when I needed it most. It's still a struggle, but not one that will break me as long as I keep doing what I'm doing.

There is every hope that tomorrow will be the day that things start to feel better.

Apple anyone?

Anyone besides Bubba, that is...

Update: I lectured Bubba and threw the yucky ones away and refilled the bowl with five new apples. Within hours, the basket was empty and five apples with one or two bites out of them were scattered around the house. When I asked Bubba, he casually told me "I can do what I want!" After three years of telling him he can't, I'm surprised he still thinks so.

My Good Mama Chart

Today Junior came upstairs while I was getting ready and informed me that I am getting a good mama chart. I will get stickers when I do things that are good (he has a big helper chart and Bubba has a potty chart and they get to go pick something out at the dollar store when they fill it up.)

Me: What kinds of things do I need to do to get stickers?

Junior: Um, just good stuff. What are you doing now?

Me: Putting on my make-up.

Junior: Great!! You get a sticker! What color do you want?

Me: Pink

Junior: Actually, lets give you two.

Me: Great! What do I get when I fill my chart up?

Junior: You get to go pick something out at the store.

Me: Do you have money?

Junior: Um...Can I borrow your wallet for a minute?


(Good luck finding anything in there...) :-)

Overheard...

Junior and Bubba are playing pirates.

Junior suggests that they "run" somewhere.

Bubba gives his brother "the eye" and witheringly says:

"Pirates DONT run, they swashbuckle!"


Now you know :-)

Triggers

The killer about dealing with a situation like this is that you never know when something is going to emotionally derail you. I have whole days where I feel like I am on an even keel and then "our song" comes on the radio or you realize that your shopping list has changed to accommodate the missing person in the house. Or when you realize something that never had significance before now does in the worst way. This weekend was fairly draining for me as J took the boys to visit his mom in Montana. The trip north is one we have taken as a family for more than eight years. It is also the place where, after he took me up there to meet his mom while we were dating, we both realized that we were in for the long haul and loved the feeling of a future together. I still have the love letter he wrote me after that trip and if I needed anymore torture this weekend, I would take it out and read it to remind myself of what we once had.

But I didn't. I already know what it says.

So, I have always had a special place in my heart for that little Montana town and the idea of never going back as a family hurts. What hurts even worse is that he will continue taking future trips without me, probably to introduce new girlfriends.

So, I thought I was already "triggered" for the weekend and was being careful to stay away from country songs and my friend Britny has been screening any trigger potential chick flicks. While cleaning files off the computer, I came across one from when I decided to get digital with my journal entries. Based on his time line for the affair, I wrote these entries shortly after his first "encounter." They all said things like "he feels more distant" and "He swears he doesn't love me less, but it feels like something has changed." At the time, I chalked it up to post baby weight or stress from work/school, or "I am probably being super sensitive right now". At no point did I assume he had given himself elsewhere. Silly me.

The good news? I am NOT crazy. His take throughout this situation has been to try to convince me that I am basically an idiot and would not be able to tell the difference between being loved for real and someone who was faking it. I remember what it felt like to really be loved, even if I haven't really felt it for years. There was a difference between "before" and "after" regardless of how much he tries to assure me that that he was just a "very good faker" throughout our relationship. I love/loved that man, but do not have that much confidence in his acting abilities regardless of what he chooses to remember. I never did believe his version, but finding the entries helped confirm it for me. He got lost. Looking back through my own memories and our written correspondence I can almost see it happening and I want to go back in time and warn old me to help him. I did not realize at the time how serious his issues were. I do now. He still doesn't.

I learned through therapy that when something like this happens, you often realize that in hindsight, whether you knew about "it" or not, you still knew on some level that something wasn't right. I knew. I also know that it was not always like that. As an emotionally healthy individual, I have far more confidence in my own ability to know when something is genuine (even if there are issues and secrets brought into it). I have confidence in my ability to remember things accurately. He has many reasons to want our past to be bad, I never did. I have less confidence in any version of events from the individual who is morally compromised and has carried a heavy load of guilt for so many years. I can't imagine carrying that and not trying to "make it okay" even subconsciously.

The bad news? I was vividly reminded through loving descriptions of my boy who was still so little just how long it has been since we have genuinely "had that lovin' feeling.' How long it has been since I have been his girl. In a way, his version would be easier to handle overall because it would allow me to hate him. My version forces me to grieve for him and miss the man who used to love me. The man who told me years before we ever thought of dating that we were a great personality match. the man who told me that he "could be his most real self with me" and that I was his best friend. The man who told me that he 'scorned to change his state with Kings.' My version forces me to continue to be shocked at the emotionless man who refused to look me in the eye when he said that he did "love me in many ways and on many levels, but we are not a match..."Daily, I miss the man he was before he chose to damage his soul so thoroughly.

The other bad news? It doesn't matter how accurate I feel I am about our past. His story is his reality and the good times are mine alone to remember unless/until he gets to a healthier place in his future. He would probably call this denial or self preservation. He can go ahead and call it that if he wants. I'm saying what I am saying with a clear concience and with honesty. That's MY story and I'm sticking to it. Every relationship hits snags. Ours obviously did. But we did have "it" once. I know that for sure.

I would never have married him otherwise.

There is a quote on the wall of the therapist's office that has made me cry for months. It says "every child deserves to be preceded by a love story." My memories have changed and I hate that. It feels like opening a water damaged photo album. All the pictures are still there, still the same, just not as bright and beautiful. But they are MY memories and I was happy when they were made. I have begun writing them down for our kids to read someday. It's therapeutic because once they are on paper, I feel like I can let them go a little. My little ones may never care, but in case they do, I want them to know our marriage was more than secrets, wrong doing, sadness and betrayal that led to the fracturing of their childhood. Even through my hardest times, I loved my marriage and I loved my husband and I have wonderful, loving memories that "precede" all three of them. They will know my version and if they want to, they will read every love letter and they can judge for themselves. If it helps them at all, regardless of what they may hear from him in the future, they WILL know that their mother loved their father with all her heart, and that they are not the result of a relationship that was doomed. Our path now might be dictated by the choices of another, but I can give them reassurance that we began in the right place.

Maybe it will help.