Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes

I still don't know what I was waiting for
And my time was running wild
A million dead-end streets
Every time I thought I'd got it made
It seemed the taste was not so sweet
So I turned myself to face me
But I've never caught a glimpse
Of how the others must see the faker
I'm much too fast to take that test.

Changes - David Bowie

It's been five (5!) years this month since Dexy's daddy and I, you know, like, made her. Five years of ups and downs as a couple (five years of ups and downs as a woman for that matter). But *GASP!* at the end of this month, we'll not only be living in the same city/state for the first time ever, but in the same house.

Wow.

There are myriad reasons why this is a big damn deal. Some of which are... how will this pan out for a 43+ year old broad like me, who has never actually lived with a man (other than college roommates) and how will this pan out for our daughter? He's been married before. I've never even been proposed to. How do I share this home I've spent the last 2 years creating alone, in a city I really love, but that he's not necessarily 100% sold on? How will our work schedules mesh? How will we navigate co-parenting? How will we move in rhythm with each other, on a day-to-day basis, when we've gotten used to seeing each other for only 2-3 days once a month?

One of the biggest questions though is... how will I now define myself? 

Despite my being with J for most of these past five years, we've never actually lived in the same city/state, so I've always identified myself as a single mom. There are myriad reasons for that too, but I'm not going to discuss them here.

In any case, the reality of it was, for me, that I was doing the parenting thing by myself. I didn't have any help from family members (my parents were dead before Dexy was two) and very little help from friends. I've been solely responsible for her daily care; housing, school tuition, clothes, food, diapers, toys, books, bathing, soothing, entertainment, travel, love, discipline, etc.

By saying that, in no way do I mean to diminish J's role as a dad. He's been absolutely great with her. And they cuckoo crazy LOVE each other, which is awesome. The bigger issue here is me. I've not always been the best at letting him just be himself. I've often been judgmental, resentful, petty, a nag, and even a downright bitch. Why? Because I felt entitled to it. Because I felt like I was doing all the hard work, while he got to be the awesome, cool, lovable, visiting dad.

But all that's about to change. I don't get to be the long suffering single mom anymore. I get to be one half of a parenting partnership. And one half of a committed relationship. In the same state. Same town. Same house.

I'm scared to death. But I'm excited too. Because, what if this is going to actually turn out great? What if the OLD definition was only an illusion, and this NEW and EVOLVING definition is the truth? What if this will be an amazing next chapter in ALL our lives? What if this is just the beginning of a life I've always wanted? What if I have the choice, starting right now, to just be happy?

That wouldn't be so bad, right?

Nope. It sure wouldn't.

Mommy Struggles

I started a blog over the weekend about how I have a toddler who has decided in the last 2 months or so to have sleep "issues", but she was refusing to nap & so I put it in my drafts folder with plans to complete it on Monday when she went back to school. But it's been one of those weeks & I just sort of forgot about it.

Until now.

This morning I was reading one of the many wonderful blogs I've gotten hooked into through the twitterverse (Apathy Lounge) - and her latest entry just really hit me hard about how FAST it all goes, this childhood thing. I decided I should write about that (while I'm baking cookies - HA), but instead I found this draft about my Mommy Struggles. So decided to finish it first instead. Goodness, I'm all over the map sometimes!

This past Monday night I decided not to give in to the Master Toddler Pleas & would let her "cry it out" (even though it is completely contrary to the whole Attachment Parenting philosophy), b/c I was going to have my bed back to myself again no matter what.

She cried and screamed, barfed, and cried some more. I sat in my room listening to her on the monitor with my heart breaking. I went in every 5-10 minutes to reassure her that all was okay, that mommy loved her & that I'd see her in the morning, but she needed to sleep in HER bed tonight. Ultimately, after going back & forth from her room to mine for over an hour, she still wasn't settling down so I made the painful decision to NOT go until she was asleep. It took another 20 minutes of hysteria & angry baby screaming, but FINALLY she fell asleep.

Of course, I didn't sleep a wink that night as I busy feeling like the most awful mom in the entire universe.

Tuesday night, I make decision to follow through with my brilliant plan to get this kid back into her own bed. Please note that Dexy has ALWAYS slept in her own bed since she outgrew her bassinet at approx 2 months of age. She has ALWAYS slept through the night too, with very few exceptions (until her recent night terrors - but that's another story for another day). The only time I've ever been of a mind to bring her into my bed is if she's a) sick, b) scared, c) we're snuggling &/or reading a book, or d) we are traveling.

See?











(note: gotta love her sleep positions, right?)

Back to Tuesday. I had plans w/ my BFF for dinner in Seal Beach at Walt's Wharf. First night out sans child in AGES. I'm way stoked but unsure of how she'll behave. Babysitter arrives at 6pm, child pitches a HUGE fit about being left with babysitter. I finally just decide to leave after 20 minutes of vainly trying to validate her hysteria, er, I mean her feelings. As I walk down drive to my car, I can hear her screaming "no, no, no" from inside the house... Of course, 2 seconds after I leave, the baby sitter calls to say she is totally fine & they are already singing, playing, having a ball.

Oh brother.

I have a marginally enjoyable dinner & arrive home at 8:30pm. Baby still awake, but I anticipated that. I paid the babysitter, get Dex situated in my lap for some book time and by 9pm with only about 5 minutes of protest on her part, she's sound asleep in HER bed. She slept through the night, until 8am as a matter of fact. I start to think perhaps we're on the road to success, either that or she's going into a growth spurt.

Wednesday night... we stopped to visit my dad on the way home, like we do every few days. Got home, had dinner, took our evening walk around the block, played, read, sang, and at 8pm I took her into her room for book time & ni-ni. She protested for about 5 minutes, then was out like a light. Never heard a peep out of her til this morning at 8:30!

So. Okay. I know it's only been three nights. But I cannot tell you how grateful I am that she's been back in her own bed, even if we have some setbacks in the future, b/c I get some much needed sleep & as a result of that, she gets a much more CALM & LOVING mom. And regardless then of how we got there, isn't that really what "attachment parenting" is all about?

From where I'm sitting, some battles must be fought so that I can be a better mom. For me, that means being rested, it means not feeling hopeless or frustrated, it also means not feeling resentful of her (or her dad) when it isn't even her(his) fault in the first place.

I have to tell ya gang, so far? This has been a good week.

Yay me!

Single Mom does not = Super Mom

First let me just say that I'm grateful to those who think I'm brave, or strong, or somehow Super Human for raising my child alone (friends, family &/or readers of this dorky little blog) ...

Let me set the record straight right now. I WISH that I had even 1/2 the confidence in myself (or in my ability to parent this sweet little girl) that y'all seem to have in me.

Yeah, I'm probably going to piss some of you off, but here's what I think: Motherhood is a hard ass gig!

And don't let Gloria Steinem or any of the other Wannabe Feminist idiots of the current day tell you any different.

Children NEED fathers in their lives just as much as they need their moms. And I believe that we (women) have done a great disservice to tens of thousands of children over the past 30+ years by swallowing the Great Lie that they don't.

We continue to raise so many of our boys to be irresponsible men; men who think NOTHING of walking away from their kids, not paying child support, not showing up for (or demanding) visitation, and/or knocking up women like it's some kind of game (or donating their sperm to local Fertility Clinics for quickie cash with no regard for all the kids out there who want to know where they came from). Worse, then we talk smack about their fathers & in the same breath deny them the right to see their kids b/c we're pissed off they don't love us anymore.

We raise our girls to think this is all they're worth & then try to soothe them after they end up raising their kids alone by telling them they "can do it without a man to help them", to "be independent, be strong", or "sweetie, you don't really need a Daddy for those kids."

And the cycle repeats, over and over.

I was one of the "lucky" ones in that I was raised in a two-parent home, but I also had a very emotionally distant (unavailable) alcoholic dad & a mom that was, in hindsight, pretty pissed off a lot of the time. If I'd been stuck at home w/ my brother & I all day, with Grumpy Asshole for a hubby, I'd have been pissed too. That wasn't what she signed up for on her wedding day, I'm sure.

So, I grew up in this weird kind of chaos. A mom who loved & adored her kids, but who resented the hell out of her husband. I was constantly seeking the approval of a dad who was(is) completely incapable of giving any (& I've spent most of my adult life doing the same w/ the men I've dated).

What kind of parents did my dad have that this is the end result of his life as a Man and as a Father? What kind of parents raised my daughters daddy that he is so disconnected from his part in creating his three daughters? What about the men who have left my other mom friends holding the parenting bag all by themselves (married or single)?

Is this REALLY the kind of community, society, country, WORLD... that we want? Angry moms, absent dads? And yes, I do know there are daddy's out there who are doing the deal & that it's the moms who bailed, but let's be honest, what is the ratio of that equation?!

G-d, I'm such a jackass to have ever thought I could do this by myself.

Here's the deal. I'm 41 & I am utterly "alone" in raising this precious little girl. It f**king sucks okay? Not b/c I don't have the comfort of a man in my bed, but b/c I feel I am missing out on the SHARED experience of raising her WITH someone. Certainly that means her daddy, but it also means her grandparents, aunts, uncles, siblings, etc.

If I'd had ANY idea that this was the legacy I was possibly going to leave her, I'd never ever considered doing the Single Mommy thing. Not even for a nano-second.

Do I regret my daughter? Oh hell no! She's the best thing that ever happened to me. On more than one occasion, she's actually saved my life. It's because of her that I even bother to stick around.

But man, I do wish people would stop telling me how brave I am & offer to hang out with us once and awhile instead. Please know, I'm not trying to sound ungrateful for your kind words of seeming encouragement, at least I think you mean it as such. But I also think it's gonna take a serious village for me to raise this kid & manage to maintain my sanity 80% intact by the time she's grown.

There are days when I really do not think I can possibly do this Mom thing another minute. I cry, a lot. I want to give up, often. I've thought about Open Adoption. I've thought about inventing a time machine so I can un-do joining MySpace. I've considered giving her to my sister who never intended to have just one, or my lesbian friends who desire children so badly.

All these feelings scare the holy crap out of me.

Do I think married women/mothers feel these things too? They tell me they do. But at the end of the day (IMO) they at least still have someone to hand the kid(s) off to when they need a minute to quell the rage that is seething inside, or for something less ominous & dark like a 10 minute shower.

I've been so terrified that I'm becoming one of "those" parents. You know, the ones that scream, yell, cajole, cry, manipulate, bargain, or worst of all, HIT their kids when the frustration levels get too high.

Listen gang, I should know better right? I have the BA degree. My parents were educated. My friends are educated. I'm all White Collar, No Nonsense, Strong Work Ethic Gal. I'm a "late in life" mom & therefore I'm supposed to be more settled, more patient & more "with it" than the 16 year olds who think it's cute to have a baby before they're out of high school, right? I've read all the parenting books & magazines. I've talked to her pediatrician & daycare provider. I've been to therapy & anger management, so I know all the psycho-babble buzzwords. I practice the 12-steps. I have a G-d in my life. I'm not a victim. I know to call my Mom friends, or to simply step away before things escalate.

I should know better, but honestly I don't know jack shit.

I've digressed, as usual. I'm having a hard day; it's not the first & I'm sure it won't be the last.

Bottom line is that I want someone to put their arms around me, tell me it's gonna be okay, and then I want THEM to handle it, just for now. Tomorrow... I promise I'll go back to being Super Mom tomorrow.

For those who asked (crossroads)...

Or who don't know me, or who don't feel like reading all my back posts for further clarification...

For those who do, please feel free to IGNORE this entry. LOL.

I'm a So Cal girl, born & raised. Left for college when I was 19 and didn't move back to CA until the fall of 2000 when my mom's Alzheimer's became more difficult for dad to handle. From 1986 until that time, I lived mostly in Tucson AZ (where I went to university) as well as in upstate NY, Harrisburg PA, London UK, and Salzburg Austria.

I moved back to my hometown of Long Beach to be closer to my mom & dad while I still had them (they were born in 1929 and 1924 respectively) as mom was already about 4 yrs into an Alzheimer's diagnosis at that point. I bought a little 1940's house, had my two dogs, my childhood friends (Long Beach is very provincial that way), got to hang out w/ my mom, worked in private industry for the first time in a long time (worked @ the UofA for almost 11 years), traveled very little, went back to Al-Anon to help me deal w/ being in proximity to my qualifying alcoholics, found a spiritual life I'd never had before, made new & wonderful friends, watchedchildhood friends get married & have kids. Basically I just kind of settled into a more quiet & adult life. It was nice. I was happy. Things with mom were hard, but all in all, I managed to be fairly sane.

Always figured though that as soon as mom was gone, I'd be gone too. I had plans. I wanted to move to the Pacific NW, be where the weather & the politics are more to my liking. I was going to build a home, have my dogs & some chickens, meet some awesomely smart nerd who loved music/books/baseball as much as I do, travel the world, get married, have kids. You know?

But of course, life has a way of throwing you a big old curve ball while you're busy making other plans.

Oops! I got pregnant at 38, something my docs told me was unlikely to ever happen given my thyroid issues. Not that I was *planning* to be a Single Mom, lest you think I'm a careless whore. But it happened, and I was thrilled. I was finally going to have the baby I'd always wanted. She arrived a few months after I turned 39. Her dad & I tried to make a go of it, but that ended about a month ago (another story for another day). Please note that I feel absolutely blessed for that ENTIRE experience. No regrets; I don't believe in them.

Last March, I sold my little house to friends (lucky!) & moved in w/ my dad. It was going to be a temporary gig, beneficial to dad & to me. Then my beloved dogs of 11 yrs died the first week of July & my mom died 2 weeks later. There was property to sell, funerals to plan, SO many things to do. I was overwhelmed at work & started resenting everything, a lot.

Dad's health took a bad turn in September & I left my PR job at Epson to take care of him. By February my brother & I made the hard decision to put him in an assisted living place (as we'd done for my mother 2 years prior almost to the day) b/c he was no longer able to be left alone or care for himself at all. I felt trapped, taking care of him AND my kid all by myself. Was afraid to leave the house for fear he'd fall, or set something on fire accidentally, or worse die in front of my baby girl (bad enough he was already so verbally abusive to both Declan & I).

Well, he's on hospice now & I don't imagine he'll live out the rest of the year. Could he surprise me? Yeah... but I don't think he'll rally this time. He has given up on all basic decorum &/or self-care. He just wants someone to feed him, bathe him, toilet him, etc. I wish he wanted to stick around, to be present for his grandkids, for my brother & I, etc. but this is HIS life journey, not mine. I can't control, cure, or change an old alcoholic. Especially one that didn't ask me to.

Mom is gone. Doggies gone. Dad not doing well. I just wanted to move somewhere that is less expensive than CA, a nice little college town where there is always stuff to do (music, art, food, festivals, zoo, museums, interesting architecture, culture, history) & where my kid can grow up safely far away from all the crap that LA has become.

That's why I'm in Austin. My biological sister (I'm a reunited adoptee) has lived here for close to 20 years. I have always enjoyed this town, & I really like my sister, her hubby & my nephew. They are GOOD people.

Frankly, Austin is exactly the kind of place that would rock for both Declan & I, for many of the same reasons I love Portland OR or Tucson AZ with the added benefit of having family nearby. It would be so nice for her to grow up w/ her cousin, especially since my adoptive brother seems to have ZERO interest in us being in his life, or vice versa. I'd be less lonely for the comfort of family -- something I've always felt lacking in (my mom was the glue that kept things from disintegrating). Blah, blah, blah.

Guess I should have bought a place here 5 years ago b/c lawd knows this is NOT an affordable town anymore. That's why we're cutting our trip short & going back to CA this Saturday night. We're also sick, which doesn't help. Add to that equation some BS that went down w/ the place we're renting in South Austin, and I just need to just be back at HOME where I can sit still & breathe. Where I have friends for support. Where she has daycare & her pals there that she's comfortable with (yes, so I can catch a little break). I miss my bed, my car, Trader Joes, Schooners for breakfast, the beach, my friends, and yes, I even miss my dad's dumb little dog Zoe.

I'd like to go back to work, even if it's only part time. Have some adult interaction again. Use my brain, my stellar vocabulary, my skills (yes, I do have some skills). But I want to do something different, in preparation for building my own business.

Most of all, I'd like to NOT be a caretaker for the first time in 20+ years (except my daughter of course). I'd like to learn how to take care of me, something I've never really done. I'd like to learn how to be okay with WHO I am, right WHERE I am.

We're going home. I'm relieved, though of course I'm also a little disappointed. I really did have high hopes for a fresh start here in Austin. And who knows? Maybe it'll work out at some later juncture. It's just really clear today that NOW is NOT the time.

And if I've learned nothing else on my life journey thus far, I've learned that it's always a good idea to pay attention when things ain't falling into place. There have been too many road blocks, obstacles, snafus, and just plain weird "coincidences" for this to work out the way I thought it was going to. Better I should call it a wash, take what I've got left, dust myself off, regroup & see where the chips fall down the road.

That's it. In a very large & long winded nutshell.

Baby sleeping. HOORAY! I'm going to sit outside in the balmy air and have myself a beer.

The end.