I grew up listening to the Indigo Girls.  In high school, my girlfriends and I would drive around on summer nights with the windows down and belt their songs out at the top of our lungs.  We'd decide who would take the high melody and who would go low.  I've always loved their song "Closer to Fine."  I couldn't have known what in the hell the song was about as a kid, but I definitely understand it more now.  I still turn to this song and play it when the mood is right.  Like it is now:

I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains
I looked to the children, I drank from the fountain
There's more than one answer to these questions
pointing me in crooked line
The less I seek my source for some definitive
The closer I am to fine

A warning here: I wrote this a few days ago (Saturday).  I wrote it during the height of my emotions and I didn't edit anything out.  I didn't intend to publish it, I was just writing it to vent because I need an outlet.  I don't always, or even usually, have a good ear to vent my frustration to, sooo... I write.  Anyway, things have calmed down and I'm feeling a bit better and there's some positive things that have come from this, but I decided to go ahead and publish it because I don't think it's fair to only show the happy side of life.  I have issues I grapple with, often on a daily basis, and I hate when there's not an easy solution.  I'm not totally comfortable sharing it all, but I also say find comfort in discomfort.  I appreciate, relate to, and, ultimately, admire, others who show their true life struggles so, it's only fair that I do the same.  Here's the original, unedited, post below.

So, I’m sad.

This is a hard thing for me.  Today, my son left to go on a vacation with his dad for a week.  They’re going to Disneyland and I’m aching to be there too.  I’m imagining his happy skip as he enters the park.  I can hear his animated, speedy narration about what they’re doing and him incorporating it into his other made-up stories.  I’m feeling sorry for myself.  I’m intensely, deeeeeply feeling sorry for myself.  I’m immensely sad that I’m not there and feeling that all-too-fucking-familiar shitty combo of shame and guilt for not being there.  I’m devastated to miss out on these pinnacle events in his life.  I’m angry that his dad arranged this on the same week as his kindergarten graduation ceremony and that I don’t get to see that in addition to not getting to go with him.  I don't get to see him graduate kindergarten.  I'm just letting that realization sink in.  To his defense, his dad didn’t intentionally plan it the same week as graduation.  I’m frustrated that I don’t have enough leave at work to have been able to accompany them on this trip.  I’m annoyed that I have a job that requires us to have leave in order to miss work.  I'm trying to hold back that annoyance because I logically recognize that my job has been very accommodating and easy to work with through my physical issues, which have required me to use my previously saved leave.  I’m a little irritated that I find it necessary to express gratitude for my job, whilst in my current state of mind.  I just want to stay in my sad state for a while.  

Image from https://twitter.com/hannybananyy

Sometimes I’m so sick of having to pull it together and do the things.  You know the things.  I have to do the “things” to keep everything in my life running somewhat functionally, even if it sometimes feels like I’m just treading water.

Image from https://static01.nyt.com/images/2016/08/05/us/05onfire1_xp/05onfire1_xp-master768-v2.jpg

As a working mother, I have my energy pulled in so many directions.  I’ve been sitting here telling myself that it’s okay.  That it’s okay because I know he’ll have the time of his life.  It’s okay because I’ll get to talk to him and stay in touch with what he’s doing and how he is.  It’s okay because this time to myself will allow me to get some of the things done that I need to do or have been putting off.  It’s okay because at least it’s not longer and I can just keep myself busy.  But I really want to just say fuck all of that. I don’t feel that way right now.  What I really feel is that a part of my heart has been torn out and I’m just going to have to get by without it for a while.  

This may seem dramatic.  Some parents would welcome a week long break.  It probably would feel different if I wasn't completely alone without him.  If I was married or if I had other kids it would feel different I'm sure.  I'm aware people are suffering far worse than I am, but I don’t want to hold my own emotions back just because I know others are suffering more than I am.  It doesn’t invalidate my feelings.  I don’t normally complain about how it hurts every time I say goodbye to him.  I know how lucky I am and how lucky he is that he has a father who loves him and is as involved as he is with him.  It’s such a blessing. 

I feel like I’m always living with two contradictory thoughts:

• I do love that I’m able to co-parent with someone who adores our son and would do anything for him/ I wish I had my son most of the time.  
•  I am grateful to have a job that provides so much for us/ I wish I didn’t have to work as many hours as I do so I could stay home with him.  
•  I want to create more connection in my life/ I don’t want to dedicate time away from my son and our life in order to make that happen…

I really need to find a way to make peace with all of it because I'm not really there.  It's become clear that I'm not really there due to how I feel right now.

It's so tempting for me to try to end this on a high note and to say something positive, maybe include an inspirational quote or image.  It's just not always like that.  Sometimes you have to feel the ugly emotions and really feel the hurt.  I've been crying nearly all day.  As soon as his dad rang the door to pick him up, I silently told myself, "Don't cry yet, don't cry yet, don't cry yet.  Just wait until you close the door."  I didn't want him to see an OUNCE of my pain because he's very sensitive and sweet and he would feel sympathy for me.  I don't want him to think about that.  He just needs to focus on having fun and not worrying about  how his mother feels about something outside of his control.  I nearly held it together.  Before I opened the door to let him go, we had a final hug aaaaand... there was something about the way he clutched me a little longer and more tightly to the point where I just broke.  Not a gentle, slightly weepy, barely there tear streaming down my face, but a sob.  The more I tried to hold it back, the more intense it became.  Then his eyes filled up with tears too and he said, "Oh.  Now I'm crying."  Obviously that made me feel even worse.  I pulled it together enough to say something distracting to make us both laugh, so it could still end on a good note.  I told him to have so much fun and to call me every day and let me know everything.  He happily skipped away yelling, "Okaaay!" behind him and I closed the door once he got in the car.  I immediately turned my back to rest against the door and just really allowed myself to cry and to feel the emotions because it's even more awful to try to hold them back.  Fortunately or unfortunately, the doorbell rang again, I opened it and he ran in my arms and fully embraced me in a hug.  He told me again how much he loved me.  Then he left again.  I yelled for them to have a good trip and to be safe.  To be so safe.  I looked directly in his dad's eyes and said "Drive soo carefully.  Like too carefully.  Channel your grandmother." 

I had this idea to create a 7 days of missing Finn project to where I'm going to do something special for him each day he's gone.  I'm going to finally frame and hang his artwork in his toy room.  I'm going to get a shitload of AA batteries for all his toys and games that require them so that when we sit down to play them I don't have to tell him, "Oh yeah, I still have to get batteries for that."  I'm going to transfer a painting and a poem I created for him onto a canvas.  I'm even going to try to snap out of this a little more after I hopefully get a loooong, restful night's sleep.  Maybe I can even take more care of his mother this week.  Did I just end this on the positive note I said I wasn't going to? 

Sick Days

"Your love is bigger than who you are."

"Even when you feel like you're not good enough or you don't deserve it, I still love you."

"If I was an adult, I'd marry you."

"I couldn't have ever imagined a nicer mom.  I think we deserve each other."

"You sure are a hot chick."

These were some of the gems uttered from Finn's mouth this weekend.  

Cuddling with one of his faves

 Last weekend was a lazy one filled with quiet and tender moments.  Finn was sick with strep throat, so we spent our Saturday cuddled up on the couch surrounded by pillows, blankets, water, his stuffed animals, and popsicles (the one source of “nutrition” he had all weekend.)  We had movies, LOTS and lots of movies, which we watched interspersed with reading books and taking naps.  I had the window open for some fresh air.  It was a cool day with faint sunlight, so it wasn’t cold—the light breeze coming in felt invigorating. 

He came in to cuddle Sunday morning and I made him some tea... obviously he loved it.

Not sure which he hated more, the tea or being sick ...

  

I spooned behind him and just breathed him in.  Took all of him in.  I still have such wonder about him.  The jokes he makes, the things that delight him, the stories he tells, his creative imagination, the sound of his voice, how his shoulders shake when he chuckles, his physical expressions, especially how animated his face becomes when he’s telling a story he’s really, liiiike really, excited about and he kind of overemphasizes each word with his mouth and his eyes are big and round with excitement.  Just the actual words he chooses to use, which are so advanced and specific.  

Life changes so fast.  I sometimes think of my life from just a year ago and see how relationships change, circumstances change, goals and desires change.  And I think that’s fine, but I’m grateful for the things that stay.  Some things just stay.  

Laying curled up with my son as he was healing next to me on the couch,  feeling the soft breeze from a pleasant, calm day and having a sense of not needing to be anywhere or doing anything other than exactly what I was doing at that moment…  

So peaceful.  

So comforting.  

Finn being sick was obviously not pleasant and I always feel a rush of errrrmahhhgerd when he’s sick and want to get him better asap, but he had antiobiotics and I knew he’d be feeling better in a day or so.  He was more lethargic at that point and just needed to rest and be comfortable.  He was in and out of sleep all day.  Falling in and out of dreams.  Even though he was sick and that was shitty, I still felt comforted in knowing that he wouldn’t remember that exact feeling of pain a week from now, but he’d remember the feeling of being safe and sound.  Of having his needs met.  Of being enveloped in love.  

It was just a feeling of sweet serenity and I love taking care of him when he’s sick.  Plus, he just looks extra sweet.  He’s rumpled and cuddly and it’s quite irresistible   When I was little, I remember my mom used to say that she wished she could take our pain from us and feel it for us when we were sick and, being the completely selfless child I was, I think I probably said something like, “I wish you could too.”  I use the same line now.  I will tell him I wish I could take his pain so he wouldn’t have to feel it, but he will say, “I wish I could take yours too.  If you took mine, I’d take it back.”  The kid has a good heart.  Better human being than me.  I love being his mom.  

I went into his room and found this on the floor 💗💗💗