If You Give a Mom a Moment

me and kiddos

Each summer my big girl makes a 5 or 6 week visit to her dad. On top of that, I share custody of my youngest so I get her every other week. So at times when they are both away, I am forced to take…a moment.

I know I am not alone in my situation – there are plenty of other parents that have to experience this. I used to get intensely sad and mope for days and even fall into a depression about it. But I have slowly been able to turn my perspective of void and sadness to joy and happiness.

So, what is the big turn around?

My girls and I really enjoy the If You Give a Mouse a Cookie series. We are always making up our own goofy versions. So here’s a nod to Laura Numeroff, the author, and a feeble attempt at a parody on it to try to explain how things turned around for me.

If You Give a Mom A Moment…

At first she will be sad. Saying good bye is hard. Chances are, she will cry. She will try not to cry in front of her child, but if she does, chances are, she will realize moping around and acting like a victim or martyr, borders on emotional manipulation and only robs everyone of happiness. If she wants her children to be strong, well-adjusted people – she will want to model that.

And if she is modeling healthy role-model behavior, chances are she will eventually find humility – She will have to accept that she alone, is not enough for her children. That her kids need their dad(and step mom if there is one, and many other relatives) in their lives to keep them stable, happy and confident. It takes a village. Really.

Once she is humbled, chances are, she will just want her children to be happy. She will realize that as long as her kids want to spend time with their dad and he wants to spend time with them, it is ALWAYS a positive and wonderful thing. So she will foster that relationship like crazy (regardless of her past and personal history with her ex. Because she will realize it is not all about her).

And chances are, if she sees how happy her kids are, it will change her perspective. She will realize there are much harder things people are dealing with, and that this is a very temporary time apart.

When she realizes this time apart is only temporary, chances are she will spring into action and want to take advantage of the fleeting moment.

She will want to deep clean, and even down-size STUFF!

And since she is cleaning and decluttering, chances are, she will sift through the mountain of randomness that inevitably collects in the open real estate of unused kitchen corners and dispose, dispose, dispose…and file the 3 things she actually needs to keep.

Since she cleaned up all that clutter, chances are she will want to get organized and figure out how to prevent that from happening again.

She will probably spend some time on pinterest searching really cool ways to organize stuff.

And since she is on pinterest, chances are, she will see images of women that appear to have it altogether and are enjoying life.

When she sees images of these women being carefree, she will remember a time when she was carefree.

It might remind her that the only person holding herself back from being carefree right now is her, and she will want to claim some quiet time herself.

She will probably sit still and do nothing for awhile. She will be reminded of a time before children where there was no one constantly bumping her, stepping on her toes (literally), poking her, sitting on her, and interrupting every 5 seconds.

And when she thinks about not being interrupted, chances are, she will want to spend some time with her spouse completing full sentences and thoughts and catching up with the person she fell in love with.

When she spends time with her spouse, she will probably talk about her dreams and hobbies. She will want to work on recording music she has written, work on books that need finished and published, sift through electronic pictures and maybe get some printed out. She might even want to paint, and experiment with new art forms.

Painting will remind her of wine and canvas nights and time with her own friends. Chances are, she will make a few dates with her friends and go out and have a blast, without needing to ensure everyone is safe, comfortable, and properly hydrated (and bug sprayed, or sun screened, or have enough snacks on hand, or needs a hair tie, or has to go potty or…)

And when she spends time with her friends, they will probably end up talking about their children. She will get to vent about life and parenthood, and then brag a little about her kids. Chances are, she will compare notes, and get some great advice.

And when she gets some great advice, it will probably make her reflect on what she is doing well as a mom, what she could do better, and take some time to read up on how to influence instead of nag. How to partner, not be nosy.

And while she is reflecting, chances are, she will probably miss her kiddos. She might even shed a few tears…

But this time they are not tears of pure sadness, but of completeness. And when she realizes how far she has come…chances are, she will want to have a moment.

The quiet and important distractions that keep me sane


On these days without my child because I have shared parenting, I look forward to the quiet and important distractions that keep me sane.  Without them I would be a sobbing, devastated mess…dwelling on missed hugs, smiles, spontaneous laughter, and sweet little kisses. 

Really – I know this first hand because I was a sobbing devastated mess for a few years until I learned to turn those quiet distractions into moments of strength and clarity.

I learned that I get to focus on the quiet or sweet silence – something that I don’t get to experience when she is around.  I have learned to embrace this quietness – something that once grieved me now fills me up.  It is a re-energizing moment.  A moment to breathe.    The silence that once screamed of voidness (which is apparently not a word) and loss now comforts me and provides moments of reflection, clarity, balance. 

Honestly – I used to kiss my sweet girl goodbye with a strong happy face mask, close the door and sink to the floor in a fetal position and sob.  Snot dripping, knife-like inflicted pained sobbing.  Though I still do smell pillows and pajamas left behind, it is more of a bittersweet/happy reminder – a promise I will embrace her again soon…not a devastating never ending loss. 

That was not a wise way to live back in those slow internal death days, but I guess I had to get it out…so I could move on to this next level of coping.  A healthier way.

I have some friends who have lost their children at such young innocent ages to pediatric cancers and tragic accidents.  Their tragedies have also helped mold and form my newly found composure – by putting my situation into perspective.  My pity parties have definitely been curbed as I have seen these families deal with the most unimaginable horror, with grace, honesty and beauty.  I realized how ridiculous I was being by dwelling on the negatives rather than the positives. 

But everything has a cycle.  If you are in the beginning of your journey of a new divorce with forced time away from your babies…take heart, but also know that it’s ok to cry, sob and grieve like you’re dying.  Get it out, but don’t stay there.  You can camp out for the night at pity party alley, but you can’t live there.  That’s not for you – or for your kids when you do have them.

Here are some tangible and wonderful distractions to do with your forced silence:

  • First of all – Make a list of places you want to go and things you want to do that you could only really enjoy alone or in adult company.  This is important because you WILL forget.  Depression can set in fast and you need that “Go to list” as something to look forward to.  These ideas usually come to you while your kids are with you (let’s be real for a moment – you know those moments in time when they are driving you crazy and you start thinking things like “OMG – I could SO being doing this or that…”  Those This or That’s are the starting points for your new list of things to do when they are away – so make notes.  On your hand, a gum wrapper or these days – a text to yourself. 
  • If you are having trouble thinking of something to do – take some time to remember who you were before – we sometimes lose ourselves in a relationship, a divorce, or parenthood.  Who were you before?  What did that person love to do?  Remember your hobbies and start making time for them again.
  • Sign up for art classes.  Water color, acrylic, oil, tile mosaics, floral arranging – don’t limit yourself.  JoAnnes, Michaels, and other hobby stores often have free or reasonably priced lessons.  Or look up different techniques on line – some great learning videos on youtube these days.
  • Go to a Lowe’s or Home Depot Do it Yourself Workshop.  (You know… I am women…hear me roar!  I don’t need a man to fix THAT, thank you). Sorry guys – you can attend to.  No shame in not knowing how to assemble a door knob…but maybe now’s the time to learn that new skill. 
  • Sign up to blow glass if that is available near you
  • Call up a friend and make time to reconnect.  Friends are not telepathic and do not keep track of your personal schedule of when you do or don’t have your kids. Swallow your pride and initiate the call. You will both be glad you did.  
  • Find some live music and actually go and listen
  • Pick up a local “things to do” magazine and start circling interesting places and things you want to do or see that you never even knew existed right in your own town.
  • Head to the library for something for…YOU!  Not the kiddie section. In fact – purposely avoid the kid section.  This is your time.  It’s ok to guard it selfishly because let’s face it – you have no choice.  Own it girl (or guy).
  • Organize those 5000 photos you have downloaded on the computer and have never printed out.
  • Go to a coffee house
  • Go Shopping
  • Go Hiking
  • Go Kayaking
  • Go Biking
  • Find a stream or creek…and just listen and breathe it in…as long as you want to.  No shirt tugging and restless whining to hurry to on to the next thing.
  • Take a book or an Ipod to a nature reserve.  Hike, find a peaceful place and read, or listen to the wind in the trees or your favorite music. 
  • Take time to find some new music or artists.  There is more to life than Dora the Explorer and Disney Channel and it’s ok to find it, and embrace it.  Look for Indie Artists. Utilize Pandora, Spotify, etc.  There is a whole world of really great music and artists that never get mainstream radio that you need to hear. 
  • If you have a weekend – take a trip!  By car, by plane.  Go visit a long distant friend. 
  • Bake something.  Again – something grown up that you enjoy.  No mac and cheese or hot dogs here.  Spoil yourself a little.
  • Take a cooking class. 
  • You never had time for the gym before – well guess what doll?  Now you have time!  Do it.
  • Take a spinning class.
  • Eventually and only when you are healed and honestly ready…start contemplating the idea of dating.  But make sure you are not looking for someone to heal your wounds or “complete” you.   That is a dangerous lie and trap.  You don’t need rescued.  Chances are you will only end up in another heart break.  Take this time to really find you.  This is a gift – a rebirth!!  Once you have done your mourning – Embrace it.  Never forget who you are again.  Then promise yourself that you will never lose yourself again.  If you ever do find someone worthy of you – they will have to accept you for the amazing person you are and not want to change you.

When you learn the art of taking these moments to re-build you, to rejuvenate you – you will in turn be a stronger, healthier, better parent.  You have to take time to lick those wounds, but find a balance.  As you get stronger and better adjusted you can take advantage of more and more of these wonderful spirit building quiet and important distractions that will keep you sane.

Mowing Season

I mowed my own grass this weekend. Now that doesn’t sound like much of an accomplishment, and on the surface it isn’t. But for me it was a big deal. I got to do a lot of thinking while I just walked and mowed. It marks not only a new season of growing for the grass…but for me too.

2 years ago I was suddenly completely unaware I had grass in my yard. It seems like I forgot I even had a yard. I was in complete shock as I had just discovered that my husband who I had mistaken for the love of my life was having an affair on me with a woman from his work that I had met several times.

The shock and awe of it all consumed me. On top of it all, this was happening while I was pregnant and just had our sweet baby girl. Trying to come to terms with the double life he and she had been leading for years was almost more than I could handle. I shut down.

The house and yard and the many blessings that I had been so thankful for became a strange, unfamiliar place. Everything I thought I knew…was a lie. I unattached myself from it all for a period of time. Partly just to survive. I learned a serious lesson – that it is ok to ask for help, and admit you can’t do life all alone – especially when you are injured.

No one would expect someone to keep up with all the housework, yard work, and children all alone if they had just had triple by pass surgery. But most people were largely unaware of the gaping hole in my heart because no one could physically see it. My dad and wonderful stepmom had mercy on me and came to mow my grass. In between that I paid to have it done.

I simply didn’t have the capacity, wits, or ownership left in me to do it. I had a new born, and a six year old at the time and was suddenly a single mom, in the true since of it. My husband had always traveled extensively and I was alone a lot, but I was now living in a shell of a house, shattered dreams and reliving every moment I had lived the 2 years previously realizing that nothing was what I thought it was.

She had been in this house. She had violated my space. She touched my children. She ate meals that I cooked and or bought for her. He was texting her and giving himself away to her under this roof we shared – sometimes while the children and I were in the same room I found out by looking at the phone logs! This house was no longer our house. The yard was no longer our yard. It was a fallen battle ground. It was a sad reminder of the carnage and loss I had suffered.

HOWEVER…that kind of mentality doesn’t last forever. I have to say – it is important to mourn, and get it all out.

But then MOVE ON.

I have mowed my grass twice already this season. I no longer see this place as a shell, or a battleground of defeat. It is just the opposite. This is now a place of victory. We made it…well…me and the girls. We survived. A bit bruised, a loss of innocence too soon, but stronger and more aware.

I am getting ready to hand the house over to him. I am getting my name off of it and he can pick up the pieces that he scattered all over the place. He was gone for so long – under the convenient disguise of “business travels”. And he has continued to dodge a lot of the reality and responsibility of being a full time parent and home owner. I can only hope that at some point he will grow up.

It’s kind of funny or ironic that just when I am able to start feeling capable of caring for a big place like this on my own, that I am now ready to give it up. I consider it just another sign of healing. A sign of awareness. A renewed since of independence, emotional maturity and glimpses of clarity. And lots of prayer, good friends and support.

I’m ready for whatever lies next. Whether it’s a condo, or an apartment where I don’t have to mow…or whether it is a little place to make our own where we get to bring our own mower and I get to mow to my hearts content.

Look out world…I found my walking and mowing shoes…

It’s mowing season.

vroom, vroom!

Uncomfortably Numb

The pressure is on. I am overwhelmed. There is honestly more to do and accomplish in all areas of my life right now then I am capable of achieving. I feel…uncomfortably numb.

I need to find a place to live for me and my girls…and one cat.

Yes – that means I need to find my other cat, aka, miniature panther a new home.

I need to have a tremendous yard sale and downsize a ton of stuff so I don’t have to move unused “stuff” to the new place – wherever that will be.

I need to find full time child care for at least the summer if not full time, permanent care for the girls.

Before I can secure full time child care, I have to fight and win the battle that my ex mother in law should not be the sole child care giver as is presently the case. This is because of inconsistency in availability and also my personal fear for her long term health and strain that would be put on her – spending 50 hours a week with a very busy, independent, fast 2 year old.

Because of my point directly above, I am wasting hours of my already overly busy day trying to secure child care to cover for certain events or needed absences of my current child care giver, and arguing my case to my deaf, mentally stunted and reality challenged ex.

I am working a very busy full time job that I am so very thankful to have but currently is so demanding that I am lucky to stuff a bite of food in my face in between meetings and managing projects. Still fairly new, so I am still on a learning curve. Feeling the pressure of knowing “just enough” to feel fairly responsible, but still clueless enough to not feel confident yet.

All this while being a single mom. Coming home mentally exhausted, helping with homework, fixing dinner, cleaning up, tending to all the household chores (laundry, trash out, kitty litter changed, vacuuming, etc…all of which usually gets neglected), getting the kids bathed, and to bed before 8:30 (usually closer to 9).

Then there are extra curricular activities for both the kids and myself. Good activities…play dates, art classes, girl scouts, sunday school, vacation bible school, women’s ministry meetings, focus groups, and all the meetings and research that go with all that too.

Trying to find time for my great girl friends and a really neat and special person that I would like to spend time with, but struggle to see more than once or twice a week and usually less.

So where is my time to play piano? My love…I miss it. Where is my time to dream, write, create? Where is my time to finish my website and books and CD’s and all the things that make me feel alive? And why do I feel so guilty for even wanting or hoping for those things?

I am so very tired and feel like I am failing miserably at everything. Work, motherhood, juggling tasks, being a good friend – I am not doing a great job at ANY of these things right now.

I feel like I am on some strict task master schedule, reacting…not having time to really think things through very thoroughly. I don’t have a lot of time to analyze how people “feel” right now. I barely have time to figure out how I feel about anything.

I am shutting down. I feel numb. Uncomfortably numb. I know I am not alone. I know everyone else probably feels like this in one capacity or another. I am also thankful that moments in time like this won’t last forever. In 3-5 months some of these things will be done and some relief will be granted. There is comfort in knowing that nothing lasts forever.

But I can still dream. That is remarkable to me. Not sure why or how I can still do it, but I do still dream. It keeps me going. I have tried to stop, but I can’t. Dream of making a difference, being a great mom, a good friend, a published author, a song writer, and to one day be loved or cherished…whatever that really means.

Yet I have to accept that I may never achieve, be or have any of those things. It’s a delicate balance. I fall of the beam frequently.

So for now, I just have to keep going. Keep moving. Keep reacting. Doing the very best I can simply do. Giving my all. Hoping it is enough. One step at a time.

Hook, Line and Stinker

Hook: My 2 year old sees opportunity…she goes over and grabs my 8 year old’s favorite stuffed animal.

Line: My 8 year old starts whining dramatically and grabs it back.

Stinker: My 2 year old starts screaming and possibly even hits big sister.

All out battle commences.

Heavy sigh.

Sibling rivalry is not my forte. It is not even something I can apparently tolerate or understand…and my girls are masters at it. If there was an olympic sport for such a thing (which may only be a matter of time) I am quite certain they would win the gold.

They feed off each other. The little one, in particular, who is very “two” is quite the instigator. My older one who is a very dramatic “eight” does a phenomenal job of sinking down to the 2 year old level at the speed of light. As the barometric pressure descends at a rapid pace like this, the conditions are just right for a mommy sized thunderhead to form without a lot of warning.

Somedays I am better emotionally equipped and it may take a lot to rattle me. But some days, when I am already exhausted from working and bogged down with household chores they can strike right to my core. Without sophisticated doppler like radar, they are sitting ducks in the path of hurricane like discipline storm.

So, yes, I stoop down to the 2 year old level quite rapidly too on these ungraceful moments. OMG – who is driving this ship of fools? It is pretty obvious that it is the 2 year old of the house. She’s the captain. I go wayward of my duties of steering the ship on course and hand the wheel over to my very incapable 2 year old and 8 year old first mate.

But never for long. I come to my senses and muster up some kind of super natural strength and take the wheel. My super hero mommy powers come out and I am able to manage to reason with them, explain the consequences, and when all else fails…threaten grounding for life.

My sweet lovies are truly trying sometimes. They are a handful. They can wear you out. But they are also such amazing gifts. Each one with their own personalities, strengths and weaknesses. They are both so precious and beautiful, and I can hardly believe sometimes that of all the people in the world…I get to be their mommy!

They have plenty of sweet moments together too. My older one will read books to little sister. They play outside together for hours – exploring the wild, pretending to be orphans or animals, and all kinds of great make believe stuff.

And I know they love each other. They miss each other when they are apart. And sometimes when I am trying to get “tidbit” to nap, she will run to the saving arms of big sister in attempts to be “saved” as if I am some kind of dragon or or something (which is actually very funny). And sometimes they play “Boxcar Children” and act out stories…this usually involves some make shift fort like structure.

But on any given day, they nit pick at each other and I do struggle with this whole siblings at war thing. It is so painful to me because my brother and I never had any of that. I don’t even know how to approach it because it is such a foreign concept to me.

I would love to hear some suggestions or advice from you parents out there with kids. I need to know some techniques to help dissolve this whole bait and switch banter that goes on around here on any given day. I am weary and need help on how to stop the hook, the line, and the very cute little stinker.

My Tattered Blanket of Faith

Love never gives up. Santa Claus is real.

Which of the above statements are true? Either? Both?

What is a kid supposed to think? What am I supposed to think? What do I tell my kids?

One day they will soon know that I have been lying to them about Santa.

They have seen love give up through divorce. They know that some love DOES give up. But yet we read in the bible that love never gives up.

What does that look like? How do you distinguish between the love of this world, and the love of some spiritual book? How do we know this book is not just fiction anyway? The work of men just like me desperate to believe in a love much bigger and far reaching than anything we might experience in this wretched world.

Faith, love, hope. It’s a beautiful thing to want to believe. Without it…what do we really have? But are these stories any more real than Santa Clause?

At times it is so tempting to contemplate throwing away even my faith. It’s like my faith plays tricks on my mind now and then like one of those 3D pictures. I can try so hard sometimes and still not see the 3D image but then suddenly, when I finally relax – I see it! But then, just as quickly as I found it, it goes away. Leaving me to wonder if I really even saw it, or did I just “think” I saw it because I wanted to believe it was really there?

Some legalistic Christians may say I must not really have faith or really believe then if I even have these thoughts. I would answer – maybe you are not being really honest. If you have a brain – you wonder these things sometimes. It is not a sin to wonder. But when does doubt cross that line and actually become a sin?

Sometimes I find myself a rebellious child…crossed arms, piss poor attitude…tapping my foot and rolling my eyes with a huffy puff blowing my disheveled hair out of my face…thinking, “Sure God, really? You really expect me to believe in you? As if you actually are there AND care about me?”

Then I commence to carry on as if I have no idea what love really is and have a full blow pity party. I become impatient with my children, I model bad behavior, I fall down on being the steward I am supposed to be. I temporarily throw love and faith out the window and think I have to do everything “myself” and alone. I completely shut out the idea that love is patient, kind, slow to anger, and to consider my trials as pure joy…etc.

Being a single parent is the hardest job out there. Being one with little to no help is nearly unbearable. There are moments that I am quite convinced I am not capable of doing it. At these moments Love abandons me. Or more accurately, I abandon love. I deny it. Maybe it was never there to begin with…perhaps it is all a work of fiction.

But then, I find myself longing for it…the comfort of it.

My beautiful eight year old has a blanket. This blanket is 9 years old. She has had it since she was an infant. It is so faded and tattered that you can barely tell that it is light blue and you cannot see the white clouds that used to be so prevalent. Only if you knew what it looked like when it was new could you even see a hint of the clouds. You might even begin to wonder if they were every really there to begin with.

I have to be honest…this precious blanket of hers repulses me. I am glad she has a comfort thing, and I try to wash it a few times a month, but when we snuggle up close, I make a point of making sure that blanket is not near my face. It’s just kind of yucky to me.

One day I know she will have to part with her beloved blanket. She will out grow it. It will become embarrassing. It will eventually fall completely apart. One day she will probably even forget all about it. But right now, it is very real to her…very comforting…very necessary.

If one day she when she is old and grown and she does forget about it…does it mean it never existed?

I always keep coming back to it. No matter how faded or washed out it looks sometimes. I keep coming back to this idea that faith and love really exist. To me it is very real, very comforting…very necessary.

My biggest fear, I guess is that sometimes I do such a terrible job of representing love, that perhaps everything that I think I might believe in and hold dear actually becomes repulsive to others. Not that I live my life trying to convert anyone into believing what I believe, but something even bigger – that I make love and faith a confusing, twisted, unrecognizable thing.

Sometimes I misplace it. Sometimes I throw it across the room. Sometimes I hide it and pretend like I don’t have it because it might be a little embarrassing sometimes. But I always come back to this idea of faith and love that covers over me, comforts me, accompanies me where I might take it. I wonder if one day I will ever out grow it or abandon it. And even if I did – would it mean that it never existed?

All I know is that I would probably be completely hopeless without it. If fiction or real, I cling to it. Even if it is repulsive to some, I can’t seem to part with it. No matter how careless I handle it sometimes…I always somehow manage to find and hold on to my tattered blanket of faith.

Removing your own internal organs

When you go through a divorce with children the cliche phrase “It feels like my heart is being ripped out”, becomes more than just a dramatic statement. It is about the only way to accurately describe the manifestation of the pain you emotionally feel…but for me – I physically felt it. My heart physically hurt…my whole body hurt.

I even starved myself for awhile and I found out somewhere along the way that it wasn’t just because I was not hungry – but it dawned on me that I actually “liked” the pain of being hungry all the time because it kind of masked the pain in my heart!

In my case it was all so shocking. I had just had our daughter when I found out about the affair my husband had been having for a year and maybe more. Though we had not had the most stellar of marriages, I honestly did not see that coming. He was traveling excessively, I was a pregnant stay at home mom – and these situations can cause some stress on any marriage. We were finally having a baby together for heaven’s sake! For some odd reason I thought we were on the same team!

So when I found out about it and the way I found out about it (phone records and hotel receipts) I was in shock. I even fought to somehow overcome it and keep the marriage together, but he didn’t want that. He had already moved on.

It was completely bizarre to me. After all the professions of his love to me – I was the golden girl that got away. His childhood dream girl that he finally got to be with. The one he had been waiting, hoping and dreaming of his whole life. No…I really didn’t think he would so easily jump on board another train at such a critical time. Blah Blah Blah…

The shock and pain of a marriage dying and crumbling was bad enough…but there were children involved.

So to say my heart felt like it was being ripped out is kind of an understatement. More accurately – it felt like I was being asked to remove my own major internal organs. Reading over all the legal documentation and trying to work out visitation schedules – this is specifically where it felt like I was reading instructions from some foreign piece of paper and trying to slit open my body and figure out which organ is the right one to take out.

First of all – I never wanted the divorce and secondly – now I am being asked – “So which major holidays would you like to willingly give up your child for?” WHAT?!?! And the questions are asked with such coldness and ease – as if this were just the most normal question in the world. While my spouse is across the table acting like this IS the most normal thing in the world. OMG! My heart is racing, I feel like passing out…where is the door, some help…something!”

It felt like I was in some science fiction movie where nothing was making sense. I am being asked to decide or do something that I really shouldn’t be asked to EVER do! And everyone is just staring with normal expressions on their face handing me the pen, asking me to sign so nonchanlantly. I want to scream “I am being asked to sign something that says I willingly agree to NOT be with my lovies on certain days!! What kind of mom does that make me?!?!?! What kind of person does that make me?”

Can you just imagine someone handing you a knife and spinning a wheel with different internal organs to see which one it lands on and then ask you to go ahead and cut yourself open and hand that one over.

Maybe I am being ridiculous, but you moms and dads of the world out there try waking up to an empty house on Easter morning and see if I am really ridiculous. It is just not normal. It feels completely foreign. I am lost. Despite the joy that I am supposed to feel on this day, I feel like I am missing all the best parts of me.

And if any of you want to throw at me – “Just focus on what Easter is really about – Jesus”…Well I would ask you to think before you talk, because the irony of your statement reaches hypocrisy at an alarming rate. Because this holiday is so important to me and because I do love God and Jesus and all that – it makes it even a bit harder because that is also part of what I want to share with my girls who are not waking up in their beds this morning with their sweet little faces and voices and snuggles.

And yes – then there is the “pagan” rituals – like Easter egg hunts and little girls in beautiful spring dresses and bonnets. And though I took my little one to an egg hunt yesterday – I am still hearing the sounds of laughter and joy from other kids right outside my window – the neighbor kids that my girls should be right there mixed in with. It is kind of sad when a childrens laughter is actually a source of sadness.

Despite how much I have worked on buliding “me” back up and working towards restoration…this is the part that will probably never be OK. Not being with my children during important holidays that mean so much to me will probably never be “comfortable”.

I think I have talked a big talk and made it sound like it does get better in time. Maybe it does…I guess even people who have had internal organs actually removed can survive sometimes depending on the criticalness of the organ itself. But that person is never really the same. They are always missing that part of themselves.

I guess if anyone out there that is still married – if you have ever considered divorce as a simple option – or even a not so simple option – I would just encourage you to think about it. Are you ready to do a self inflicted surgery on yourself?

Happy Easter.