Sunday, March 1, 2015

Cheap Shower Curtain



As a divorced working mom of three I have limited alone time. So when my alarm sounds, I hold my breath and try to float across the creaky wooden floor without disturbing the sleeping toddler in my bed or the twins in the room next door. I brew my first pot of coffee for the day and I take a seat on the couch where I give thanks for the silence.

A brief, but peaceful shower was once part of this morning routine. However, all that changed when I purchased a cheap shower curtain to replace the old dingy one not long ago. This demonic sheet of plastic, which clings to my body as soon as I turn on the faucet, has converted my shower into a battleground. Each day we face off. I struggle to wash my hair with one hand while extending the other arm horizontally against the plastic in an effort to keep it from smothering me.

Today I defeated the cheap shower curtain however. 

When I turned on the water and the curtain gravitated towards me as usual, I did not resist. Instead, I allowed the annoying, giant sheet of plastic wrap to cloak me.  I used both hands to wash my hair properly, all the while sensing the uncomfortable material taunting me, but nevertheless refusing to allow it to elicit a reaction. Instead, I felt the frustration quickly rise and then fall within me, and then I watched it wash down the drain without consuming me. 














   

Friday, January 2, 2015

I Resolve to Be Normal


My resolution this year is to be NORMAL. 

And even though it is only the second day of the year I can tell that normal is going to be a struggle. 

What do normal people do? For starters, they sleep at night. They spend time with friends and family, laugh and talk about pleasant matters. They see movies, dine out on occasion, travel once or twice a year. They go to work, but they also make time for their family and for themselves. 

I want that. All of the above.

I want to enjoy my days instead of just fighting to survive. I want the venomous communications with my ex husband to end. I want to see my loved ones' names on my caller ID, not my lawyer’s.

I want peace. Yet, how does one make peace with someone who does not want it?

I want to be normal. I just don't know how to get there.

I need a plan.























Sunday, November 30, 2014

My Oxygen Mask


This past holiday weekend the ex took the children for FOUR days straight. While I still feel a tug at my heart, I have passed the stage of crying when I see them go with their father.  Yes, I miss them when they are gone, but I now welcome the freedom, even if it is brief and sporadic. I could use the break and I know that they benefit too.  Of course time with their father is important as well.

Since the divorce I have repeatedly read and heard others say that it is essential to care for myself during this difficult transition.  When the plane is going down, first apply the oxygen to your own face before assisting others I am constantly being reminded. I get it and it makes perfect sense, but I simply have not figured out how this translates in real life.

Am I supposed to hit the bars and start looking for men, because I am quite confident that is not what I want at this stage of my life. I do not know if I ever truly enjoyed that scene. Besides, I have three babies and they are my priority. Nor do I have money to burn on nail salons or other beauty treatments.  Similarly, shopping is not an option and walking around a mall penny-less is a drag. Frankly I cannot think of anything I even want if I had money. And while a movie would be a much-needed mental escape, paying for a movie ticket these days leaves me riddled with guilt when the money could be spent on necessities.

So I continue to do what I have done since the first time the children went away. I clean, I purge closets…I go OCD on the entire house and it makes me feel good. I grocery shop, taking my time in each aisle, considering every purchase instead of racing through the store as quickly as humanly possible with three kids in tow. I get a head start on the next week by wrapping presents for upcoming birthday parties and taking care of other errands that would make for a stressful lunch hour. I am grateful for this opportunity to just do what needs to be done without the added chaos of getting kids in and out of car seats.

Yes, I could spend time with friends and I do on occasion. However, on these rare weekends I am not anxious to commit to anything or follow a schedule and my ex is not exactly predictable with his visitation making it difficult to plan ahead. Besides, my friends all have children and being with other peoples’ kids without my own is not easy. And no, I do not know any divorced women in my situation, nor do I know how to search for new friends (hmmm…I wonder if there is a website for this yet?).

An observant Jew once told me that we are commanded to feed and care for our animals before we feed ourselves. While I am certainly not calling our children animals (though I often comment that they follow instructions like cats) I absolutely agree that since they are dependent upon me for everything, I must put them first. So as I sit here awaiting an oil change, I have no regrets about how I spend my free time. Am I living the dream?...probably not by others’ standards, but I know that like everything, this is temporary. By making the children my focus I am also doing for me as well as them. I like to think that I am providing oxygen for us all simultaneously. 

Friday, November 21, 2014

Our Artist


Since he could speak, our first-born child has confidently proclaimed that he will be an artist when he is grown. Recently he laid out his detailed plan of how he will reach his goal…finish kindergarten, go to high school, then college and finally art school.

I think it sounds like a grand idea and I am completely supportive of anything he wants to do, with the exception of riding motorcycles and playing football of course. (But he knows these two activities are off limits already). Though I am clearly biased, I am sure he has a good shot at achieving his dream…he is a talented, creative kid with art in his genes.

But he received his first rejection the other day and I saw another side of him. The child who is quick to talk back to me, who often appears cocky at times, strutting around the playground as if he is ruler of the world, showed a softer side when his classmates misinterpreted his Thanksgiving turkey project.

The assignment was to disguise the black and white turkey so that the bird could escape being eaten on Thanksgiving Day. His twin brother decided the best camouflage was the planet Earth and he successfully transformed his turkey into a sphere of blue and green. 

The aspiring artist however, decided to turn his turkey into a baseball by drawing red lines vertically through the turkey. I admit that like his classmates, I failed to see a baseball and I struggled with whether or not to tell him, for fear he might be upset. I also had to fight the inclination to “fix” his work. I knew with a few minor changes we could create a baseball out of the red lines. But ultimately I kept silent and he submitted his project as it was.

The day his work was shared with his class, he came home, climbed on my lap (a very rare sign of affection) and shared that everyone thought his turkey was bleeding. No one saw a baseball. I hugged him, like any parent would do, and tried to absorb all his pain. The damage was done though.

So yesterday I checked out a massive book on art from the library. Together we flipped through it, randomly stopping on pages to consider whether we liked the work or not. We talked about why some paintings and sculpture appeal to us, while we dislike others and I tried to explain that there would always be people who misunderstand our work or who say not nice words that hurt us. 

I am not sure whether my message was received. He was so engrossed in the book and the diversity of the art that he lost interest in our conversation. But as I watched his eyes widen in astonishment at one particular picture, I had a feeling that he was not making any career change just yet.



Thursday, November 20, 2014

Someday


Oh blog....I had such hopes for you, alas, I have let us both down. I simply do not have time for you. The ex rarely takes the boys these days and if I am not working I am caring for them. Someday soon I hope we can catch up, as there is much to say.

Someday.

Sigh.

Thursday, October 30, 2014

I can do better

 

The oldest child asked if he could help me cook dinner tonight and it was with a great deal of reluctance that I finally agreed (yes family...sometimes I cook...please focus).

Since he almost never expresses interest in assisting me I was sure to acknowledge and thank him for his thoughtfulness.

But truthfully, I still did not want his involvement and here is way....

1. It would cost me time and it is so much easier to do it myself.
2. There would inevitably be more cleanup involved, as he is certain to spill something.
3. Gas stoves scare me and I do not want the children anywhere near the flame. (I am forever haunted by the Soprano's episode where Tony's lover catches fire from her stove).

And most importantly....

4. His assistance would require a level of patience (for all of the reasons listed above) I am not sure I possess by the end of the day.

Still, in an effort to be a better, more conscientious parent, I relented and I am glad I did. We had a fun moment together...just the one twin....something that rarely happens.  In fact, I almost never get time alone with any of the three unless you count the toddler sleeping next to me each night. (One day I will write about how I finally got him in his own bed).

I am so consumed with survival and just making it through the day...insuring that all three kids are safe, fed, clean and where they need to be on time that I miss the opportunities to share and engage with them and enjoy their company. However, unless something monumental happens (striking oil in the backyard for example) this is how life is going to be for many years to come and I have to find ways to make it meaningful and joyful despite the challenges. I must remember that when a son wants to help me he is not costing me time, but gifting me the opportunity to spend it with him (duh). Instead of doing what is easiest like putting them in front of the television so I can prepare dinner in peace, I need to embrace the chaos and recognize it will not always be so damn hard.

On a separate note, maybe it is time that they are charged with some responsibilities around the house. If he wants to cook, he might also enjoy cleaning. That sure would make for a less grumpy mommy.

I know I am not stating anything here that is profound or that has not been said already by countless other parents....I am just hopeful that by recounting and recording the experience I will be closer to becoming the mommy I want to be. Let this be a sticky note to remind me to always try harder.










Wednesday, October 29, 2014

Today I'm Kvetching

 


Teachers Convention is fast approaching and I have no childcare, nor can I afford it. The event, intended to provide professional development for public school teachers in New Jersey, is scheduled for a Thursday and Friday when I am expected at my job.

I simply can not understand why this annual event takes place without consideration for single, working parents.

What am I supposed to do? Seriously.

Hiring a sitter will cost $135 a day...more than I make in a single day. That's a total of $270 for two days of coverage. This money will come directly out of the grocery line, as there is no other place from which to deduct. (I can't avoid buying gas, skipping the car insurance or ignoring the the utility or phone bills).

The alternative is that I take two days off of work, thus putting my job in jeopardy, since my vacation days are supposed to be utilized during the summer months when the workload is substantially less. (There is an idea....schedule the teachers convention during the summer).

I could lie of course and say I have a sick child, but that is not my style.

What adds to my frustration is that I have yet to speak with one public school teacher who is attending the convention. The public school teachers with whom I have consulted however, are using the four days to take family vacations.  I honestly do not blame them. I recognize how hard teachers work. I see their struggles and I know that it is largely a thankless job.

My anger is not directed at the teachers. They deserve a break.

While the convention is the target of my resentment now, it goes way beyond these two days. Though it is only November, I have missed several opportunities to attend events at my children's school because I work. The guilt I shoulder for the challenges in our children's lives caused by the divorce is only compounded because I am not present when other moms are there. I will most likely never be the class mom chaperoning field trips or assisting with class projects.

I know I am not alone. There must be others like me, but I have yet to find them.

And no, I don't have a village. I have no family, extended or otherwise to help me, as they are all across the country. And while I do have several close friends in the area, I am not able to call upon any of them to take my children for nine hours a day for two days. Please tell me how I can find a village.

This Friday is Halloween. Parents have been invited to pick their kids up at 11:30, take them for lunch and return them an hour later dressed in their Halloween costumes. My plan is to drive as fast I can on my lunch hour to their school, see them for five minutes in the Halloween parade before driving like hell to get back to my desk. Happy Halloween kids. Tell me, will someone be there to help the children dress in their customs if their parents are unable to pick them up because they have to work like me?

And I know this is just the beginning...the kids are only in kindergarten. I've got years of missed events and guilt ahead of me.

Yes, I know it could always be worse. I am fortunate. My kids are healthy and I have a job to go to each day. We have all that we need.

I just want empathy for those of us who are trying to do it all, but always falling short in one area or another.

Thanks for letting me kvetch.