Grass is not greener

More purging .... the storage unit is empty (yay!) but my dining room is full. Full of totes and boxes and camping chairs. It's temporary, as temporary as I can make it. It must be sorted and made smaller, this pile of stuff that tells the story of my life. I have to keep the journals and the photos and the little sundress I got for Elena at the Gap when she was one .... the rest of the pile has to go. Some of it has been given away and the rest will be carted down the sidewalk to the trash compactor at building #13. For today however, I had to run away from home. Spring break is over and there are stories to read, research to be done, and essays to write. I couldn't do all of that in the shadow of those totes, because they call to me and drown out my thoughts. So I'm at Borders working hard (obviously) thinking that this is the peaceful environment I need. There's an older couple reading in the corner to my left. A good friend to my right, pretending to work as hard as I am. A woman knitting, another typing, and a young couple reading at the front. Ahhhh. Nice. And then, from the man on my left, sitting alone near the wall, mumbling. He's just finished a very loud interactive German lesson on his computer. Two women left because it was so irritating. When he put the computer away, I thought I was free. But now the talking to himself. The sitting and staring at people. The black unabomber bag. The homicidal mumbling. The obvious lack of personal hygiene. Perhaps I will go home. Those totes don't bother me so much....

When the night is over

Sweet sweet girl. How many times do I have to sit by your side at night, stroking your hair, wishing my fingers could paint enough love into your forehead to make up for the fact I am not the mom I would dream for you? I lose my way, my patience, my ability to remember what this is all about, so very easily. Sure, it was a snow day. School was cancelled. We were supposed to go to your Papa's house, but the weather changed our plans. I tried to roll along but I am not as flexible or generous of heart as I pretend to be. So your Gramma's here. We were supposed to go shopping, she and I. She was disappointed when the snow day was announced. We spent too much time lamenting our lost adult time and not enough time embracing you. And you must have sensed it, sensed my lack of what to give, and you needed me, you asked for me. I tried to explain, I tried to spend time, but it wasn't what you needed. So when I told you tonight that I'd had enough, really the truth is that I just didn't give enough. And now you are asleep, and I sit here beside you. I forget how lucky I am to have you. I forget that you didn't ask for me. I chose you. I brought you into this. I thought I'd figure it out along the way. And just when I think I'm doing okay I fail you. So, beautiful angel, gift from God, I give you my promise. Tonight I will stroke messages of love into your forehead, hoping you will dream sweet dreams, and tomorrow I will get up and try again to give you all that you deserve. Or at least some of it. And I pray that the love I have for you will overwhelm my mistakes and you will know how deeply you are loved.

New Personal Resume

I decided today that I spend too much time thinking of all that I don't have going for me. I have considered myself undate-able (not that I'm really looking, but ....) and as a very messy work in progress. Although I do believe I will always be a work in progress, I have decided to redefine my personal resume, or at least how I tell it to myself in my head. On one hand, I am a divorced mom, broke college student, minimum wage barista who'd like to lose about 5 more pounds and is desperate for a good vacation. On the other hand, on my new personal resume hand, I am a successful single mother with two children who excel in behavior and academic effort. (I know hard parenting times are ahead so we have to be really really happy when they're good.) I am a motivated and determined college student, so far managing to pull straight A's with an aging brain and two little children on my mind. I am also successfully handling an amazing job that offers me full benefits for 20 hours a week, which more than makes up for the less than stellar pay (for now.) I am a published writer and photographer. I have lived in five states and even Mexico for a time. My life has already stretched out in adventure and there is so much more adventure to be had. I am a student of the Bible, and at this age I am grateful some of it was written on my heart when I was young because those are still the parts I know the best. I am a good daughter and am becoming a better girlfriend (to my girlfriends, don't get too excited) the more I practice. Most importantly I am learning to bloom as a woman who is loved by Jesus. This is my personal resume. This is a really good life.

Blogging and such ... I miss my journal

I was cleaning out my storage this weekend. My mother is having another episode and when she does, I purge. So, cleaning, donating, sorting, and I came across my journals. Handwritten and often misspelled, the earliest dating 1982. (Yes, I was alive and old enough to journal in 1982.) I found the name of a boy who broke my heart one of those early years (yes he's a facebook friend of mine but I WILL NEVER TELL. Well, maybe someday. With the right persuasion.) I wrote loving letters to "My Diary" as if she were a real person, my counselor and comforter and friend. I miss my journal. So this is now a journal of sorts, for the process, for the thoughts, for our journey. Because now I am not just writing the voyage of me, I am a contributing writer to the voyage of two more. Miss Elena, my blue eyed, brilliant, kind and WAAAY to beautiful nine year old daughter. And Mr. Alex, the sweetest little brown eyed, green converse clad little hand holder alive. Hope you enjoy, and stretch, and laugh, for then I will have served my purpose.