quiet nights; hard nights

So much has been on my mind and in my heart lately, and I have had no time or space to express it.

Long, tear-filled nights of mama begging baby to sleep while he destroys the apartment. We have been at odds. Frustrated with each other, neither one getting what we need. Today I finally gave in. I stopped saying "no", stopped trying to redirect, stopped everything. You want to climb the table? Okay, I'll take everything off. You want to be up? Okay, up we go. Down? Alright. Mamamamamamama? I'm right here. Bored? Here's tupperware; eat that book, it's yours.

And we're okay today. We're good, even. Asleep by 10, and that's a big step. Only a few moments of big big frustration on my part. We are starting to find a groove and sync up.

I didn't expect this. I thought, as rough as daycare had been, that it would be a breeze to be able to be with him every day, all day. And while it's beautiful and sweet and glorious to not miss a moment, it's been so hard. So hard to realize that in the time I was working, he flourished from teeny baby to big bad almost-toddler. One toy for an hour isn't cutting it. Baby is bored. And mama has to be on top of it. So no more 3 day rainy stretches at home, and no more endless snuggles. This busy boy needs to get out and conquer the world.

And so, we do. And in that, I step so very far out of my comfort zone. I am not a social person at heart, nor am I good at doing new things alone. I feel awkward and uncomfortable and afraid. And this kid? He makes me better. For his sake, I make friends. For his sake, I leave the house. For his sake, I am bold and strong.

When I say he saved me, I mean it. I looked at him tonight, in a brief moment of snuggles, and burst into tears. Took those chubby cheeks in my hands and kissed that drool right off his face. It's so hard, and so much, and so sweet.

I try not to feel resentful, or angry, or anything like that. And mostly, I succeed. But then I think (okay, so often I think...), nobody really gets this. I have single mom friends, who get nights off when their ex takes the baby and child support. Yeah, you don't get it. I have married mom friends who say "I might as well be single" or complain (fairly) about their husbands. Shut up. I smile with something akin to grace and empathy. But inside? I'm screaming.

I feel deeply lucky and blessed for my life and my son. But if only I had one person who could actually understand. But, I know deep down, no one ever will. My path is hard and strange and unique. My fears are huge and no amount of empathy salves them. My late-night pain? It's just mine. And mostly, I take deep breaths. I hold my son and promise him big big promises that he will know the best life possible.

Some days, I don't think I can come close to raising him right. Some days, it feels hopeless and endless and tired and pain and grey. Some days I wonder and wish and dream and want how it was before. And then there's this little person, this special perfect little person who chose me. Who screams and laughs and smiles and tells me mamamamama and claps and dances and  loves me. This little baby turned boy who looks at me with open, endless, unaltered love. And I think, this is the love I've dreamed of. This sweet soft cheek against mine, this bright eyed smile, this playful little dreamer. This baby is all me, and all mine.

It doesn't change anything, but it helps.

And the friends. The friends who, while they cannot understand, they know. They know my story and my path and all the reasons why I am who I am. Why this boy is extra special material.

Eli, my big strong crazy monkey man, you are it. I made you from starlight, all by myself. And you can do anything; just watch your mama. I'll make you proud; and of you I always will be.

warrior woman; hear me roar

My eyes are barely open, and yet I cannot sleep.
Such nervous excited anxious emotions running through me.

I feel on the very precipice of everything good.

I hold bated breath and let the hopeful joy spring up in my heart, flow out and shine up the world.

Pushing off the doubt and fear and let the dreams wash over me.

Also? This is big. The quiet, near silent, and completely personal letting go of The Big Fear. It's happened in stages and taken far over a year. But my heart no longer leaps to my throat and I'm no longer search search searching in fear. I am glad, despite it all, that I stayed in this apartment. I no longer feel like I am running away, but running towards.

And that's a big difference.

Also also? Being myself is the most freeing feeling on earth. Trusting myself? Way better.

I am recovering, recovered? I am no longer ruled, or governed, or shadowed. This huge huge shaking off is so un-apparent, but oh how it's happening. Each day, with tears and anger and release. With long talks, baby and I. With explanations and sharing and talking and believing. With openness and honesty and faith in myself.

The people in my life who know, they know. I chose you all for a reason. To know my story, to trust with my heart. I am stronger because of you.

I'm coming out the other side a warrior.

a new beginning; chapter refresh

I started writing this as a simple Facebook status update, but realized it was too much and too long, and ultimately too important not to blog on.
I've been dropping lots of hints, and a lot of people in my life already know my big life changes, but I want to start documenting my journey. So here we go.

This will be Eli's last week at his current daycare. It's been a good fit until now, but is no longer right for either one of us. I'm not going to delve too deeply into that, at least not now. But, while it is a perfectly fine daycare, and most likely a fabulous fit for a lot of parents and children, there are core beliefs that are not in line with my parenting. And I am finding it increasingly hard to maintain a continuity in his life, between my parenting and the daycare setting.
Beyond that, I have always struggled with him being away from me 8+ hours a day. It was not my parenting plan, nor is it an option for us anymore. The last few weeks have felt horribly wrong, dropping him off with big tears for us both. My heart in my throat, trying to convince myself it was 'normal', and 'other parents can do this'. It's not for us. I finally listened to myself and my sweet boy.

I am starting the process of becoming a licensed in-home daycare provider. This is a huge leap of faith, adjustment for both of us, and all around risk. I have no idea how the pieces are going to come together. I decided to take this journey less than a week ago. But that's how I am - once I decide whole-heartedly in something, I dive. Head first. And that's how I know it's right.
I was applying for full time outside-the-home jobs, had been for almost 2 months, when I finally stopped and stood still. Looked myself in the eye and asked "why has this not been happening?" I was very halfhearted in my job search, and something felt vibrationally off. It came in a big rush of relief and tears: that was no longer my path. I said to hell with it and to hell with the doubts and most importantly to hell with the naysayers. I meditated and prayed and reminded myself of promises I made us both. I got shaky and worried about the logistics and what a big leap this is, and mind-dumped to my mom. In typical fashion, she told me to follow my heart, and it will all work out. I wouldn't be able to do this without her.

I'm starting my STARS online course today, and signing up for CPR classes. I hope to finish at least my STARS training this week, while Eli is in daycare for these last 4 days. From there, paperwork like crazy.
The biggest hurdle right now is finding the perfect house. It's hard and frustrating and I almost throw in the towel every time I look at Craigslist and come up empty handed or dreaming of something out of my price range. So I walk away from the frustration and play with Eli and breathe.

I close my eyes and dream of the perfect house, with the perfect yard. Warm and bright, cozy and clean. Full of love and laughter and growing up. Where Eli can grow and learn, where I can be a part of other childrens' lives - to nurture and respect and teach and love.

The idea of being present every day to raise my child has left me in joyful tears today. I've missed too much already, and his baby days are flashing by.  I cannot stand to be apart from his journey anymore. And to couple that with the chance to be a part of other childrens' journeys, and ease dear parents' minds at who is helping guide their children - well, it's a dream I didn't know I was dreaming.

It's a long road I'm speeding down, but my heart is leading me, and I'm following faithfully.