fearless

I have dinner dishes to do, packing to (re)start, endless toys to pick up. Instead, I'm sipping pink champange and writing.

I have been woefully absent for my blog world, and I'm working to remedy the situation. Because I need this space, for me.

My life is still quietly in limbo, but the sunshine is peeking through the grey dim, and I'm seeing so much light headed my way.

My sweet little dream home is getting fixed up, just for me. I like to think that it was built for me, for my little family. The search for The House was so much harder in so many ways than I expected. My goal was not only a home for my family, but also a house from which to run a business - a daycare. That's a tall order on one (so far non-existent) income. I still have huge huge fear about this endeavor, this giant leap of so much faith. But this house, this is home. We had a huge set back in the renting process, and it shook me kind of deeply. It also, ultimately, made me realize how in love I had fallen and how sure I am that this is The House.

I can't sleep at night because I'm busy dreaming up DIY projects and seeing my family grow, watching Eli learn and discover in a real home. This house, this is going to be the stuff of magic and dreams and big love. I know it.

My every moment focus is on moving, packing, money, classes, list list list after list. I'm overwhelmed, and sometimes have to step away and reconnect with Eli. I feel scattered and a little muddled. But it's coming together. Slowly, surely. Sometimes in a swoop. The Universe is wholly providing.

The list of daycare license requirements is long and frustrating and time consuming. Classes, certificates, tests. I have never worked so hard for something before. I have never had a tangible goal like this. It feels good, and odd. And sort of foreign.

And, deep down, I have big big dreams for this blog. Huge.

And, and, and? For the first time in my 24 years, I am not afraid to try.

I swear, this kid is teaching me to be fearless. And bold. And strong.

My life is taking shape. And it looks good.

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.

Back, and home, and brand new

3 am is not an ideal time for blogging. And yet, I know sleep will not claim me until this:

My world shook. Hard. I dreaded, expected, anticipated, mourned over this moment. The moment that shook me beyond words. I played over and over in my head; I have for over a year, how I would react. Cool, calm. A punch. But, the overwhelming get the fuck out did not occur to me. I felt blind, tunnel vision. Physical response so severe my friends had to hold on to me and tell me to breathe. I, oh, I have no words for how grateful I am for those two lovely ladies. Who broke all the rules, bummed me a cigarette, and turned my night back around.

I, well, I cried harder tears, doubled over in the street, than I have in over that same year. I cried for things I couldn't word, things I can't understand, and mostly? Maybe? To let the fucking shit go.

I don't feel like saying anything to him anymore. I cried hard and deep until the tears dried up. I spun, and laughed, and somewhere in the haze of smoke and indiscriminate eyes, I let go.
I, head held high, came back. Fearless. With a smile and did not ignore, but simply was done caring.

Tonight hurt in a way that is impossible to describe, and yet, cleansed me deeply.

I hold my sweet sleeping baby boy and realize that no part of him is anything but me, biology be damned.

And?

Life does get better. There is some quiet hope in the dim. If I close my eyes and smile wide, I don't notice the lights go up.

Tonight, I think I came back.

beyond the package; a little irony

We are all, more or less, seeking that other person who...well, what? Perfectly compliments us? Or utterly matches us?

I feel this battle, this internal debate near constantly. They say that opposites attract, but I think we've all learned that mere attraction only runs so deep. And your "perfect match" is "out there" (Match.com anyone? Been there. Lived that.), but if someone absolutely matches me, that is a recipe for boredom.

If my current not-really dating life, it's so much different than BB (Before Baby). I'm not just going with the flow or 'seeing where this leads' or even, really, completely, 'living in the moment'. Probably not good. But, right now, if there isn't a solid future potential there's just no point. I don't have the time or energy or head/heart space for that.

I have finally perhaps become the I Want A Husband girl. I really didn't intend to be this girl at 24. Or, maybe, ever. But I want a home, with a man to come home to (or oh goodness, who comes home to me), babies under foot, white picket damn fence.

And as I write this I think woman, this is what you've always wanted. Since I was toddling around kissing my babydolls. I am made to be a mother, and made to be a wife. Made to make a home. It is my heart.

Thus, a husband. Am I avidly searching? No.

But in half-assed 'dating' attempts, I realize and question so much. (Data gathering, right mom?)

How much 'perfect match' vs 'intriguing opposite' do I really want in a partner? And where does blind love take you? I know that really out of control love can lead you (me) down imperfect roads. Hard roads. And animal attraction? It's fun, but it's ultimately lonely. I have dreams of who I might end up with, and it's all lovely. But reality? Reality is that love is so undefinable, and uncontrollable.

Will I fall in love with a man who shares my every parenting practice? Who is my awkward blend of hippie and redneck? Will I find a person who wants exactly the same type of house I do? The same number of kids? The same taste in music and love for literature?

Probably not. And how much do those things matter? I've blamed those differences for a failed relationship, for...years. But then I realize it was so.much.bigger.

So what is really the key combination? I know there are no answers, but my questions are so so huge tonight. They feel as if they take all the space inside me. Push the air and fear out and oh how I dream dream of love. I doubt it, maybe still a little. But never fully. I half hearted worry that I'll dive down the wrong path again, get hurt all over. End up 'wasting' another year. Get caught up in how something looks and what could be and push too hard. Because it's all really heavy.

And then, I focus hard on how I want it to feel. And try to trust in the delivery.

clarity; comprehension; compassion

I'm working oh so hard on January. Trying to love a month I don't naturally. Trying to find a balance and peace in life limbo. Trying to love and accept myself, to grow.

My world these days is big and wide and sort of lonely. Long days at home while sweet baby is at daycare. Trying (so much trying) to keep up a routine for when I am working again. I think so much in these days. The emotions are big and hard. And sometimes great. And then I see this boy's face split open in a grin that's just for me and my world shrinks down again to slobbery kisses.

Late at night I sit and think and can't sleep. It's quiet. It's still. The tears pour, and my heart seems more sure. Light of day can blind and awaken, but nighttime is the time for warm dreams.

I didn't start this year with resolutions simply because it was a new year. This was a giant shift, a transition time in my life. From living the life that was handed to me, to choosing deliberately where next to step.

This year, this time in my life, is about a few things. Big things.

Forgiveness. Not for anyone else, but for myself. Forgiving people who have hurt me, hurt the ones I love. Abandoned, betrayed, disappointed. And ultimately, it's about forgiving myself. That one is the absolute hardest.

Trust. Forgiveness and trust walk hand in hand. And so, not only and not so much, do I intend to learn trust for other, but mostly and absolutely I have to be able to trust myself again. That trust, in my own judgement, was so violently shaken in the past 2 years, that I have a hard time believing myself.  It will come, I believe, in time.

Love. Forgiveness and trust wrap love up in a big warm hug. Of course, I will forever dream, dreamer that I am, of the Big Love. But, my love for everything, for life, is blooming again. I focus, quiet my mind, and let the love pour out. For my son, it is easy. Oh, he has taught me love again. Love like nothing else. But I learn also, again and again, to love myself.

And the present, the gift of the now. I am such a dreamer, that I am always remembering the past or fantasizing about the future, and sometimes I'm letting the present moment slip by my eyes and by my heart. Again, I take a beat and look at this little being who is growing upsofast and my heart skids to a stop. Forget everything else. Live right here in this big little minute forever with baby laughter games and big big eyes that look at you like you're his whole wide world. Every day, every single day.

And ultimately, newly for me, the challenge of action. I am not a woman of action. I am a woman of thought and dreams and pro/con lists. I am a follow-my-heart-but-only-after-years-of-deliberation woman. I don't want to wait years, anymore. I want to take big bold action. It's muddled up with trust, again. Trust that if I fall I'll be okay. Because, honestly: I thought I fell too hard to survive. Instead, I made two lives.

2014, I'm ready for you. I'm ready for everything.