Thirty Nine
Today begins the last year of my 30s.
It’s been a momentous decade. I got married. I had a baby. I got divorced. I moved to a new town.
I think it’s safe to say I”ve learned more in the last year than I have in all previous years combined.
I learned how to live on my own.
I learned how to live without my sweet baby girl for half the time.
I learned it is ok to say no.
I learned who my real friends are and who I can truly count on.
I learned what other people think doesn’t matter, as long as I know the truth.
I truly learned the meaning of “pick your battles”.
I’ve watched my Avacakes go from baby to little girl.
In the last year I met my best friends in person for the first time. An amazing 4 days that hold memories that I will never forget.
I think the biggest thing that’s changed in the last year is just me learning to love me for who and what I am. I owned my failures and my mistakes.
I learned there is no point in arguing with someone who will never listen to you.
I learned I can face my biggest fears.
I learned that there is no limit to the power of a good hair cut.
I learned that I can be, and am….happy.
Thanks to all of you for staying with me on this journey. I look forward to the rest of the ride.
From One Fatherless Kid to Another
I had intended to write another in the series of Ava-isms, but I just couldn’t let the passing of someone so important simply go by with out any words at all.
By now, I’m sure everyone knows that Steve Jobs passed away yesterday, at the not very old at all age of 56. So much has already been written in the few hours since his passing- about his work, his vision and how both of those things changed the world. I learned of his death from a text message on my iPhone, the very device that has been the flagship of his company for the past 4 years.
And while I’m truly sad that someone with so much talent and drive and creativity is gone, what I am rarely seeing discussed, but what has been floating through my mind since last night is this: The world lost a guiding light of technology, but four children lost their dad yesterday.
He was 56. Much too young to leave your kids. Only three years older than my own father who passed away 20 years ago. I know how they are feeling. Even when you know death is coming, still you can never really be prepared for it. Especially when it is someone so close to you.
I know the uncertainty they must be feeling, facing life without their dad. You can argue that they have just inherited an immense amount of money, and while that may be true, fortunes do not lessen the blow of death. It does not replace a parent.
Money can’t buy you a dad to walk you down the isle when you get married. Money can’t buy you a grandpa to hold his granddaughter for the first time. Money can’t give you a father to turn to for comfort when your life crumbles around you.
I’m very sorry that those children will not have their dad around as they finish growing up and journey into adulthood.
I will think about them, and him, each night, as we use FaceTime to connect Ava with her parents when we’re away. As I take photographs of my sweet girl, I hope, on their phones they carry pictures of their dad that will make them smile and bring them some small comfort in the days, weeks and months ahead.
The grief does get easier. There will always be moments, sights, sounds, even smells that will bring you back to your childhood and make you sad for what you’ve missed, and what might have been. Today is one such day for me.
So, rest in peace, Steve. You definitely left your mark on this planet. And if you run into my dad up there somewhere, tell him I miss him, I love him, but I’m ok. And your kids will be too.
On Changes
There is a moment each morning when I awake, before my eyes open, that I don’t remember.
Then I peer out at my surroundings and through the fog my brain registers the difference.
The walls are different now, the bed seems taller, but it’s just that the ceiling is much closer than before.
My feet hit a cold, hardwood floor, instead of carpet. It’s a slightly longer walk to the bathroom.
There is quiet. Even in the early morning, when the sounds of soft toddler slumber are floating in the air over the monitor, there is so much quiet. Only soft call of a dove in a nearby tree or the random passing of a car on the street disturbs the quiet.
It’s all so new.
I wouldn’t go back to the old. Not for any amount of money or fame, or whatever it is people wish for when they see a shooting star.
My days are generally happy ones. Sometimes punctuated with some residual anger or worry, but on the whole, happy. My life is my own again. I get to enjoy my daughter without interruption when she’s with me. I have time to enjoy things that are important to me when she’s not.
I can, and do, give her all of me when she’s present. She has my undivided attention. When she’s away, I turn that attention to myself, doing the things that make me happy. Painting. Cooking. Photography. Reading.
Rediscovering who I am and what I want to be.
I fully enjoy having a place that is mine and not ours.
There is so much pain and heartache in the past, but the end of the road also brings choices of direction to travel. Instead of trying to race to the end of the next road, I’m slowing down and enjoying the scenery on the path that I currently reside.
These are moments to remember. Moments to reflect and grow. To put the mistakes of the past behind me, and focus on being a good mom and a good friend. And most of all, good to myself, in ways I never knew I needed to be before.
It’s a good life, this new one.
But just for that one moment, I don’t remember.
How To Drive Me Crazy
Issa posted yesterday about things she hates. I jokingly stated that I should write a list like that, but I was afraid if I started, I might never stop.
However, it being Friday, and sunny outside, I don’t feel like writing anything serious or deep today.
So without further ado, here’s a list of a few of the things I especially dislike. Hopefully, I won’t have to start another blog just to contain it all. 
Websites with videos that automatically start. Some of us are trying to stealthily surf the net (OMG, that sounds SO 90′s) from work, yo. How am I supposed to hide the fact that I’m really searching for recipes when I’m supposed to be doing something for which I get paid, if the minute I open a web page a loud ass theme song or advertisement starts blaring?
Olives. Who the fuck ever decided to eat these things? Even after curing, brining, stuffing, they are inedible. Not to mention, you can’t even eat them straight from the tree. And really, how desperate was someone for something to eat that they spent THAT much time trying to make them palatable. It’s the same thing with a lobster or a crab. Both of which I like, btw. But don’t you wonder who was the first person to look at that and go “Let’s eat it!”?
Eggs on cheeseburgers. I don’t get it. Maybe it’s because I really don’t care much for eggs, unless it’s egg salad or deviled eggs. But the thought of a runny yellow egg yolk on my cheesburger is gag-arrific.
Fake buttons and zippers on baby and toddler clothing. Either make it functional, or leave it off. It drives me nuts, and more importantly, it frustrates my daughter to no end when she tugs and tugs at a zipper that isn’t going to move.
Soy sauce. Just the smell makes me nauseous. Its the main reason I have such an aversion to most Asian cuisines. Well, that and the fish sauce. And again, WTF? How did fish sauce come about? Hey, what should we do with all these leftover tiny fish? Oooh, I know! Let’s leave them out in the sun to dry and then we’ll pulverize them. And THEN! We’ll add water and let it ferment until the next town complains about the smell. Then we’ll bottle it up and sell it. People will LOVE it.
People who constantly Re-Tweet. I’m not talking about someone who occasionally does it. I’m talking about the person whose stream is 90% other people’s tweets. I mean, if you can’t come up with ANYTHING to say that’s original? Maybe Twitter isn’t for you.
People who expect more of you than they are willing to give. I’ve run across that several times lately. I don’t get it. How can you expect people to do something for you that you aren’t willing to do for them? Relationships have to be about give and take. If not? Not worth my time.
Smoking. I don’t understand how someone can enjoy something that smells so bad and is SO detrimental to your health. Also? I know I’m gonna get flack here, but…I wish there was NO smoking in public period. I’m all for freedom of expression and individual’s rights, but smoking harms people around you. Not just the smoker. I have asthma and there have been many times I’ve had to use my rescue inhaler courtesy of someone’s need to consume some nicotine.
Beer. Again, I don’t get the appeal. It takes like piss. Or what I assume piss would taste like, never having actually imbibed that particular liquid. I can’t stand the smell, the taste, none of it. I think I’d rather eat an olive. Maybe.
Pumpkin pie. Pumpkin anything, really. I know, I know…that makes me look anti-American or something, but I just don’t care for the flavor. I dread Thanksgiving coming around because I will have to make the dreaded pumpkin pie just so the family will be happy. Me? I’d rather have chocolate cake. Or cherry pie. Or chocolate cherry pie cake.
Turkey. I may have to turn in my citizenship and move to Canada after this AND the pumpkin pie thing, but I hate the smell and taste of turkey. Again, I make it every Christmas for my family. If I didn’t there would be a revolt of epic proportions. So I make Darin do most of the work. Like prepping. And putting it in the oven. And carving it. Ok, so I make him do all of it. If it were up to me, we’d have a big pan of lasagna, a salad, and some garlic bread.
Mmm…now I want pasta. Wait, where was I? Oh yes, being a hater.
Actually, I probably should stop now. So there you have it. A tiny fraction of the things that drive me crazy.
Helpless
That word describes a lot of how I’ve been feeling and what I’ve been dealing with lately.
I took a week vacation while my mom visited. The week following that my husband and I were both sick, and as a result, were off work another week. I was able to spend a lot of time with my daughter. The kind of time I haven’t had with her since she was born and I was on maternity leave.
Walking away from her that first Monday morning to go back to work was agonizing. Some of the worst pain I’ve ever felt in my life. I wanted so much to quit my job on the spot, grab Ava and head home. But I couldn’t. I can’t. We need my income. At some point, we may be in a position for that to happen, but not now. I’m helpless to change it.
When my mom was visiting, it became apparent for the first time that she is elderly. She’s no longer the active, healthy person I knew growing up. She’s getting old. Older. I’m helpless to change it.
My father -in – law is not very involved in Ava’s life. He sees her once a month, at most. He never calls to ask if we would like to come over, or ask if he and his wife can drop by to see us. I’m afraid she’s going to grow up not knowing him very well. I’m terrified of her asking me “Why doesn’t Grandpa ever come to see me?” I don’t want her to feel that kind of hurt. We’ve spoken to him about this before, but with little to no result. We’ve asked them to babysit a few times, but I am hesitant to ask anymore for fear they feel we are taking advantage of them. I don’t know what to do to fix the situation, and I feel helpless.
Many, many things are changing at work. Some good, some not. Mostly, not. Things that come under the guise of making things easier, but in reality, just create one giant clusterfuck. It takes more of my time and energy, and taxes my patience. I feel drained when I leave here. I am so mentally tired I don’t have much left to give to my family at the end of the day. I hate it, and I am helpless to change it.
The back to school commercials have begun on tv. I cannot watch one in particular. There is one with a mom helping her daughter get settled in at college and talking about how hard it will be not seeing her every day. I know my baby girl is only 14 months old, but I know that day is coming. Years off, yes, but just thinking about it now brings me to tears. Every day I see her assert a tiny bit more independence. She’s growing up. Intellectually I understand that this is a good thing. I want her to grow up to be and independent person, her own person. My head understands this. My heart does not. I am helpless to stop the relentless march of time.
I know all the cliches about taking control of your own destiny, your life is what YOU make of it, blah blah blah blah. Yeah, I get that. Maybe one day the epiphany will come that will change where I am. But for now, I feel stuck. I feel helpless.
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