The Daily Chai Misses Her Kids

Today's Chai Latte was fabulous. I'm surprised you're not drinking your own while reading this. They really are the bomb.

So this is where I have the most trouble with my separation: the sharing of my kids. I know, I know, I just said yesterday that solo weekends are awesome. But then the work week sets in, I haven't seen my kids in three days and miss them so much. How is it possible that I've gone three days without seeing my girls? At the very beginning of my separation, I would be a basketcase on Mondays, and it was my bestie that pointed out I was always more emotional that first day back after a busy weekend of catching up with friends. Because while I was busy and distracted and occupied, my kids were not at the forefront of my mind, but reality set in on Monday morning. I would sit at the breakfast table, staring out the window with my Cheerios uneaten and getting soggy while I wondered how I got here and if I was really doing the right thing. That if I continued with this crazy, stubborn, selfish plan, I would miss seeing my kids every day of their lives.

The day after Kate was born, I looked at her and thought, "What the fuck have I done?" I looked at that tiny, scrunchy red creature and started to panic about how I now had a human being dependant on me for her every need. FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE. Holy shit. That's a hell of an epiphany I can tell you that and I didn't really think I was up for the challenge. 24 hours later, I would have fought tigers for her had I been called on to do so. That protective instinct and my love for her grew every day until it consumed me. I found out that I was really, really good at being a mother. For a person who has always been just smart enough to know that she is mediocre at best, the realization that I was finally amazing at something was deeply satisfying. I held on to it tightly and I wasn't going to give it up.

So when you feel that way about motherhood, dealing with the fact that you are no longer there to protect them and love them every day can be a bit traumatic. And let's face it, I'm a proven drama queen so I imagine the worst-case scenario about how this is all going to play out and I worry about my girls and how this will affect them long term. My worry is not baseless since you always hear horror stories about kids going off the rails because their parents split. My own life went off the deep end a bit when my dad left me at the age of 15 and I never really forgave him for it. I do, however, recognize that this is a different situation. When my dad left, he was done with us. I saw him irregularly at best because he wanted to screw his new girlfriend and he didn't want a sulky teenager who hated his girlfriend at his house every other weekend. The idea of joint custody and both parents actively raising the children after a divorce just wasn't his thing. I was also old enough and angry enough that I didn't want to see him very often. So I speak from personal experience when I tell you I worry for my girls and how this separation will ultimately affect them.

Obviously my ex and I have figured out a way to continue to be in our kids' lives regularly. We both agreed that if we were going to split up, the only important thing to figure out was how to make the kids feel as nurtured, loved and protected as they have always been. Everything else took second fiddle to that. There are going to be some changes, we are moving after all, but we're trying to make it exciting for them instead of scary. We reassure them that even when we aren't together, we're only a phone call away. And drama queen or not, I'm also eternally optimistic about life in general and I look for the good in the bad, I seek out the positive from the negative and see the beauty even in ugly things. So I might worry, but I also hope and expect everything to be okay.

It doesn't mean I don't miss them like crazy when I'm not with them. I haven't missed a moment of their lives since they were born except for the occasional weekend away. But just like with those weekends away, I feel guilty about looking forward to alone time. Because I really do. I revel in it. I write, I read, I do my nails, I watch movies, I see my friends. And I do all of it guilt free because I don't have to worry that I'm doing these things at the expense of not fulfilling someone else's needs. It doesn't seem like a very motherly sentiment to have, but I've always been the primary parent and having down time to recharge has made me a more balanced, patient and caring parent in many ways. And as good pal pointed out, it's ok to look forward to handing my kids over to my ex because I also really look forward to getting them back. It balances out.

The Daily Chai and How to Make a Choice

Today's Chai Latte is swimming in regret and wishes it could have been spicier. Not wanting it to suffer too badly, I drank it fast to ease its unhappiness. Yup, gonna be one of those days.

People have asked how was I 100% sure I was making the right choice? I will tell you. I was not 100% sure and I've wavered a lot over the past four months. How can you ever know that you are making the right choice when that choice means you are splitting your family up and possibly causing deep psychological pain to your children? The choice to leave a marriage is somewhat like starting a new relationship. You leap in, both feet, all in, on the FAITH that this relationship is going to be the right one, the one to end all other relationships. But you don't really know if that person is going to be the right person. You can't see inside someone else's head and we often put our faith in the wrong people. Human beings do it all that time and we get burned. Sometimes we only allow it to happen once, sometimes many, many times. But eventually, we do learn that nothing is 100% sure. Except death and taxes.

So how can I be 100% sure that I'm making the right choice? I can't, but based on the facts and based on my feelings and based on my self-worth as a human being, I'm making a semi-rational choice that I believe to be the correct one for my own sanity and well-being. I wish some higher being could come along and tell me I'm doing the right thing, but clearly that has not happened. I have to go with my gut.

I used to feel like time was running out for me. The thought that I am going to die one day and I'll have all these regrets, regrets that circle in my head like a flock of vultures, that thought nearly drove me mad. I used to go to bed each night thinking, "One day, my body is going to stop working and I will cease to be." And if I couldn't turn that thought off quickly enough, I would start having a panic attack about not existing anymore. I would imagine my heart stopping, my breath stopping and my thoughts stopping. Full stop. Nothing. A shell.   Death is really going to happen to me. Not just to other people, but to ME. It got to the point that I had to force myself out of the house, because I'd rather stay home and avoid dangerous situations like driving a car because I might die. Holy shit, right? But I will tell you something, I have not panicked about it once since I made this earth shattering decision. I have accepted that I will die and I'm not very happy about it, but I know now that my life is my own and I'm not going to die with all these regrets. I know that I will live my life the way I need to live it, without the burden of others' expectations on me. It won't always be the most amazing adventure ever, but I'm going to really, really enjoy the high times and let the low times just roll. Good with the bad, right? I will be the best mother, friend and person I can be, but on my own terms. That is about as 100% as I can be about what I've done.

The Daily Chai Has Writer's Block

I haven't bought today's chai latte, so I will give you a fake review. It was good.

Moving on.

It was bound to happen. I've been writing every day for just over two weeks and now I'm at a loss for something to write about. NOOOOOOOOOOO how will I entertain myself if I'm not writing hilarious hijinx about grammar and insane four year olds?
That reminds me. I went to the mall today with the girls and ate mall food. Delicious. Anna smashed some sushi like a fucking champ and Kate had her normal Subway sub, two cookies (which she always delightfully shares) and strawberry Frutopia. Then we got a banana, strawberry and Nutella crepe. Thrilling, I know!

We bought my ex a present for his upcoming birthday so the kids would have something to give him and then we got rain boots and hot pink converse for Anna.  I loved getting new running shoes when I was a kid, so she better appreciate the fact that I went to two different stores to find the exact right pink for her. At the first store, I tried unsuccessfully to convince her that purple was better than pink. No dice. She knew my game and wasn't falling for it. On to the second store where we were successful in finding two different pinks, both in her size. One on each foot, we walked over to the mirror and Anna gazed with deep satisfaction at the reflection of her feet in the mirror.

"Perfect! Which one do you like best?" I asked her.

"Both of them." If Anna could put charming little smiley face emoticons into her speech, she would.

"Tough, pick one." I replied unyieldingly. She made the right choice and went with the super cool hot pink instead of the lame baby pink. Journeys has the most amazing selection of Chucks just FYI.

She PROMISED me she would wear these sneaks and not rip them off in hysterics and refuse to ever wear them again once we got home. I requested this promise from her because this is what happened last year when I bought her brand new hot pink Vans (please pay special attention to second 12 of the video):

I love my girls. I really do. I'm glad I have both of them in my life and I look at them daily and marvel over the fact that I made human beings from scratch. But there are times, just some times mind you, that I wonder why I had children. Lovely little creatures, but they never stop talking. They are like me in that respect, but imagine, just fucking imagine for one moment, if you had TWO OF ME talking at you, telling you endless stories and asking a constant stream of questions, UNCEASINGLY FOR HOURS ON END. You would pray for bedtime too. 

Some of today's questions were:

Mom! Is the sun really getting closer to the earth all the time? Someone at school said we're all going to die. 

Mom! Why does the word shampoo have the word poo in it? 

Mom! Can we have a treat?

Mom! Is this crepe as good as the ones in Germany?

Mom! Does shampoo have poo in it?

Mom! Why do you have elastic bands around your car's mirror? 

Mom! Can we have a treat?

Mom! Why do I have to wash my hair?

Mom! Why is Elsa's hair yellow and Anna's hair is red?

Mom! Can we have a treat?

Huh, even with writer's block, I manage to have a lot to say. NOW IMAGINE TWO OF ME. Yeah. 

The Daily Chai is Ambivalent

Today's Chai Latte is perfect. I have nothing else to say about it except that my entire day has been made because it started with the perfect drink. Sweet, simple things people, enjoy them all!

Mixed emotions last night as my real estate agent came to take pictures and measure rooms so she can list our matrimonial home. We've been here for six years and I never wanted to move again, but here I am, planning, once again, to move. Balls. God, I hate moving.

We bought this house sight unseen while we still lived in Germany. Lots of people went to look at it for us, but the first time we saw the house was on our final inspection right before we moved in. The bedrooms were a little smaller than I'd imagined, but all in all, I was happy with it. It's an old house in an old town and I loved it. It has some good character, like transom windows above the bedroom doors and some of the original trim has survived. There are windows everywhere and on sunny days it is filled with lovely light in every room. It has a finished attic family room just like the house I grew up in and a creepy old cellar with a working cistern that I have never been fully convinced does not house a crocodile. And I SWEAR I have heard children laughing and running when mine have been fast asleep. Maybe just a trick of the house creaking in its old age, but it doesn't bother me, it just reminds me this hundred year old house has history.

We will leave some of our own history here to carry on. There has been love and laughter in this house and it is the house I brought Anna home to when she was born. It is the house that Kate has grown up in and the only place she remembers as the memories of Germany faded for her. I spent almost two years here as a stay-at-home mom, raising my girls and the happiness of those memories will last me forever.

But it is also a house that has many sad memories for me and my family. By the very virtue of its age and character, it has caused us both stress and in someways, that stress played a part in destroying our marriage. Last spring, I thought if we moved to a new house, a house that we would both love, the stress would melt away, but that is like having a baby to save a marriage. It's a pretty big commitment for a bandaid solution. When I thought about buying something else with my ex and being as house poor as we were planning to be, I backed off the idea. It was yet another indication that my marriage was crumbling. People in a healthy partnership do not worry that buying a house is going to tie them more fully to the other person, they reveal in the happiness of the commitment.

And so, a chapter of my life comes to an end. I am excited about it as well as sad. Last week, I was having a few low moments and I asked a friend to remind why I was doing this again. To remind me the correct path is not always the easiest or the happiest. To remind me that sometimes the things of the greatest worth are the hardest to achieve. He came back with this:

So I, like everyone around me, weathers the storm. I'm even learning to enjoy the storm because I never know where it's going to take me next and I'm always up for an adventure.

The Daily Chai and How I Almost Died Today

Today's grande chai latte was of the fancy Oprah variety. 2% milk in case you were wondering because low fat is for chumps and life is too short to waste time on fat free drinks. I drank it too fast and now I'm sweaty. Damn those hot drinks.

Let the philosophical musings begin. 

I was glorying in the extra hour of daylight yesterday and loving the red sunset. My dad used to tell me "Red sky at night, sailors' delight" I figure sailors have to be  pretty good at reading the weather and the old saying meant that a red sunset at night forecasted a beautiful day in the morning. I've never known this to be proven untrue which makes me appreciate those beautiful sunsets even more. 

However, when I woke up in the dark this morning, I was less than impressed. Forgot about that part of Daylight Savings Time. Oh well, I let the kids sleep a little longer and took pictures of them

After dropping Anna at daycare, I galloped back to the car, singing and doing windmills with my arms, purely just to embarrass Kate who is at the perfect age to be mortified by everything I do, whether anyone is watching or not. Just for fun, I now intentionally do embarrassing things around her. There is a method to my madness however...my goal is to teach her not to give a shit about what other people think of her. It's a slow process and I'm having a delightful time with it. 

"Mom! Why are you doing that? What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing Kate! I'm just happy!"

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Mom! Why are you happy?"

"Um. I don't know. Because the sun is shining. Because it's only minus three instead of minus a hundred. Because spring is coming. Because the birds are back. I don't really have a reason. Isn't that amazing? I'm me and I'm happy about it. Because baby, I'm alive!" 

"Oh. Well stop doing that, it's  embarrassing."

Sigh. 

So it was rather ironic that on the way to work today, after dropping Kate off, I almost got smoked by a transport truck I was just about to pass on the highway. He decided it would be the perfect time to switch lanes and I literally had to slam my brakes on to avoid getting run over. My car skidded and fishtailed as he quickly veered back into his lane, causing his trailer to wobble dangerously and I pictured him losing control and me slamming into him. Still shaking from that close call. 

So I say again, I am happy to be alive. Life is short, death is long. Enjoy every minute you have on earth because the number you get is finite. I will continue to dance and sing to embarrass my daughter and I will tell her every day of my life why I am happy. 

Because baby, I'm alive. Listen to this song and I think you will agree.