Little Moments

I was driving home from a cancelled class on Wednesday and was not in the best of moods.  I had arranged for my sons to go to their father's house a day early for Thanksgiving break so that I could attend the class.   When he picked them up, we had a screaming match over socks in the driveway.  Adults fighting about socks?  Are we insane?  The sock fight, it an ongoing one, and it has absolutely, positively nothing to do with socks.  So, when I got school and found that class was cancelled after I had rearranged work and kids, only to find a sign on the door and no graded papers waiting again, I just had another thing to add to my list of things that are pissing me off.   #3,242 Ethics Class, right behind #3,241  The Sock Fight, which is really The $27,392.02 Fight.
I was driving home on fumes.  My cash funds are running dangerously low.  As I was driving on the expressway so near to the dreaded E, I saw an image of myself stuck on the side of the road, walking with a red gas can up the expressway, three kids in tow, silent tears running down my face, only to get to the gas station and have no money and have to ask someone for help.   I have no red gas can, my kids weren't with me, and I have friends and family I could call for help, but that was the vision I saw.  I stopped at the gas station, swiped my card, and began filling my tank still thinking about that vision.  I hadn't noticed a car pull up to the pump next to me.  I heard a woman talking and looked up and realized she was talking to me.  "I am sorry, I didn't hear you?"  She was standing a bit away so not to scare me.  She repeated herself quietly.  "My fuel gauge doesn't work.  I ran out of gas, and I just need to get home.  Do you have a few dollars you could spare?"  I said, "I am sorry, I don't."  I felt an immediate twinge of regret.   She said, "That is okay.  I understand."   I felt a pang in my heart.   As she turned to walk back to her car, I saw two kids in the car.  The smallest one in the back turned his sweet face and looked me in eye with the biggest, brownest eyes.  This time I felt it in my soul.  What if that were me and my boys?  I can't let those children sit there watching their mother ask not one person, but maybe two, or three, or who knows how many people for gas.  I knew if my 12-year-old son was there, he would he ask me why I said no.  He would say "Just give it to her, Mom.  I will pay you back when we get home.  Please, Mom"  I walked over to her car, she rolled down her window using her old fashioned crank.  I thought I was the only person left in this world with a crank to roll down my window!  I silently handed her money.  With a look of relief and gratitude she quietly thanked me with appreciation.  I said nothing because of the lump in my throat and held back the tears until I got into my car.  Thank you to her, to her brown-eyed boy, to my own generous brown-eyed boy, to my family, to Ron, to all the people I know would come and help me without a second thought if I were the one on the side of the road.  Thanksgiving is a hard day for me.  Not because I am not thankful for all that I do have, but because five years ago on Thanksgiving day my world cracked open, and selfishly I just do not want to share my boys with father on that day, ever.  That lady made Thanksgiving slightly easier for me.  Sharing when you feel you don't have enough for yourself, giving when you feel you have nothing to give, whether it is in the form of money, time, patience, love, it is returned to you in unexpected ways. 

In Search of Home

I have been having a difficult time lately, more difficult than usual.  We have worn out our welcome in my parent's home, a long time ago, but it has come to a point where moving is inevitable.  My parent's have been so very helpful and I am grateful for that.  We have been here for five years, three years longer than planned.  I feel homeless, not in the sense that I do not have a roof over my head, but that I don't have a home, and I need that-we need that.  I have considered letting the boys stay with their dad for awhile while I get on my feet, but to be dead honest when the thought crosses my mind, I also start planning my ending.  A good, good friend, the very best of the best, has offered to keep my boys for as long as I need while I get things in order, but that doesn't feel right either.  So, while it is difficult to stand on these two feet of mine while I have three kids tugging at my hem of my pants, that is my only option.  I need them to motivate me to keep going, and they need me.  They are my family, my heart, my reason for being.
So, the home hunt begins.  At this point, my mind is thinking I either want to find an inexpensive, three bedroom rental home near here, or move as far as I can, which is legally not far, within a 100 mile radius.
You are thinking, what about that man you are dating?  You know that handsome, tall, bald guy I see you around with occasionally?  Haven't you been with him for three years?  Are you two planning a life together?  He knew I was upset.  He asked what was wrong.  I didn't say.  When I finally did tell him that I was considering letting the boys live with their dad even though it would kill me, or that I had to find a place on my own, he excused himself to go to the bathroom.  When he came back, he inquired about spray cheese in a can.  He didn't ask, how are you, how is the house hunt, what are you thinking, how can I help, let's find a house, don't let your boys go, want to stay here, will you marry me?  He said "Want me to go get cheese in a can?"  I left.  Three years.  He knew I was not okay.  The next time I talked to him, and the next, and the next, he didn't inquire, offer support, loving words, a card, a drink.  He loves me, I do know that, and I love him, but for whatever reason neither of us can open up and say what we really want and need from each other.
That leaves me at me, myself, and I.  I need to do this on my own.  I need to find a way, and I will because I have to, because I need to, and because I really want to.
On this Thanksgiving day, I really don't feel like celebrating.  I am grateful for my blessings, my children, my parents, my boyfriend, his son, my siblings, my nieces, having a job, having a car, but holidays without my kids, aren't really holidays at all.

Love/Hate Relationship

I have been alone for the last 22 hours.  In those 22 hours, I have realized that I simultaneously both love and hate being alone.  I enjoy the peace, the quiet, the stillness.  But those very things allow the opportunity for thought, reflection.  When I let myself think, the thoughts are rarely positive.  The thoughts are overwhelming.  I feel there is so much to do, so much dissatisfaction in so many areas.  I am rarely alone, but I always feel lonely, so it isn't the loneliness that grabs me.  Grabs me....I need something to grab me, to shake me, to fix me for I feel broken.  Today, I feel broken.  I don't know if I have ever felt that way.  I can feel my heartbeat in my ears, hear my breath as if it was not my own.  What is this?  Brokenness, depression, exhaustion, a disconnect? All of the above?  I don't want to move.  I want to feel the aloneness, but I don't want to feel it.
I am constantly stressed, annoyed, tired, anxious, angry, guilty, perhaps worst of all just not in the moment, which magnifies every other emotion.  I have fought it, but I am weary of the fight.  Maybe I need to feel this for now. 
Every day my sons save my life.  Without them I don't know what my purpose would be.  They are worth the struggle.  I wish I could be more for their sakes and for mine.  Be more.  I am asking myself to be more.  Please, just be more, get better, be better.  I can do this. 

"And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom."
~ Anias Nin

Ask and You Shall Receive

In order to get what you want, you have to put it out there, make it known to yourself and others that this is what you desire. I need to ask for what I want. "Ask." How can something so simple be so difficult for me. If I don't state what I want clearly and consisely at the very least to myself, how can I receive or acheive it? I need to get over the fear of failure and JUMP in. Enough baby steps. I need more motion, to step outside my box, to spread my wings; failure is so much better than being frozen in a block of fear.

I will start by asking myself for five things that I want:
1. Home.
2. Autonomy.
3. Full-time job with benefits.
4. Healthy self-image, body and mind.
5. Peaceful state of being, which to me means less judgements, less anger, more patience, kindness, and respect.

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines, sail away from the safe harbor, and catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover. ~ Mark Twain

So Much To Say

I have just begun this project, and I am already at a loss for what to say. Not that I don't have a lot to say, I do. I just don't know where to begin. In fact, many of my life dissatisfactions exist because I don't have a starting point. Two days ago while in the shower, in tears, I was thinking about the title of this blog, "The Evolution of Meem." I don't cry often, but when I do, it is often in the shower. Anyway, what struck me at that moment was the "Destruction of Meem." Not having a home of my own to raise my children has nearly-emphasis on nearly-destroyed me, us really. That is my biggest failing, my problem most urgently needing to be solved, but so many other things need to be in place first, and it is just so overwhelming.

My sister put an offer in on a house and it was accepted. I am so very proud of her. She deserves every single good thing that has come her way. She has earned it. The home sounds amazing. She didn't tell me when she put her house up for sale, or when her home was sold, and probably wouldn't have told me about this, but I answered the phone when she called for our mother. We have always been close and shared so much. I know she didn't say anything to me because she feels guilty, or like she would be bragging, or who knows, but I am truly happy for her and a little hurt she didn't let me share in this accomplishment with her. Am I envious? Sure. When she said "cul-de-sac" those words struck my heart a bit. Funny the odd thing that hits you. My home was on a cul-de-sac.

I don't need a cul-de-sac, a fancy home, or even cable TV for that matter. I just need a home to call ours. I live here in this house, but it just is not home.

So, what am I going to do about it?

One Year From Now

One year from now,where will I be? Today, 10/08/2010, my children and I are living in my parents home, my oldest son suffers from anxiety, I have begun having panic attacks or health issues, I am not sure which, my children's father is unemployed and currently in jail for failing to help provide for our children,my funds are running out, and the word that comes to mind when I think of my life today is circles. I did the "right" thing. I went to school and earned a degree while working part-time at a banquet hall on weekend nights. Unfortunately, I got a degree in a field where the pay is low and the benefits are nonexistant. I am working full time from home, and started going back to school part time,but can't say with certainty what I want to be when I grow up. I have a man that I love, and that loves me, but our progress in our relationship, much like the rest of my life, is painfully slow. I need to make progress in every area of my life. As a mother, professionally, educationally, romantically, self-image, self-worth, health wise. I need to find out what it is exactly that I want and how to get it. Ready, set, go!