Being Four

I love kids.

I’ve always loved kids.

I am the youngest of a large family of five children. I was, what you call, a mistake a happy accident. My parents thought they were long done having children when I decided to show up on the scene. When I was born, my mother had a houseful of teenagers, and had no idea that only five short years later she’d be a grandma.

Being an aunt at five years old, and coming from a large family, means that I’ve been surrounded by young kids my entire life.

And I love it.

I didn’t realize how much I loved it until I became a mother myself. I love babies. I love the way newborns smell, and how they look like they’re still moving through water even after they’re born. I love their little wrinkles and their sleep noises.

I love them when they’re babies, when they’re exploring and learning about the world around them. I love their first smiles and first laughs and first steps and all those other wonderful firsts.

I love toddlers, when they’re learing how to navigate stairs and ride tricycles and start talking.

I love the stage that my oldest daughter is at right now. She’s six, and she’s absolutely charming. I love how well she’s able to express herself, and the way her little six year old brain navigates the world.

But, my friends, far away, my absolute favourite age of all is age four.

Mo, my youngest daughter, is four. I have such a love for this particular age. I missed out on a lot of it when Kiddo was four, only because I also had a two year old at the time, who was much more demanding of my time and attention. Because her sister is older and more self-sufficient, I have the luxury of being able to fully appreciate Miss Mo at this glorious, glorious age.

I love four year olds because they have a pretty good handle on the world. They’re not really prone to tantrums any more (though they do still have the occasional meltdown). They can be reasoned with fairly easily, most of the time. They haven’t gone to public school yet, and even though most of them go to preschool at least part of the time, they haven’t been heavily influenced yet by “school culture”. They’re independent thinkers, full of opinions, and not afraid to share them. They’re making sense of the world around them. But they’re still young enough that they lack self-consciousness. Four year olds will still go out in public dressed in a princess gown or a ballerina outfit just because they feel like it. I love that. Their imagination is ripe, and they’re full of deep and meaningful questions.

Four is such an awesome age. I’m a little sad that I’ve only got six months left to enjoy it.

 

Parenting By Example

When it comes to parenting, I’m not much one for the saying, “Do as I say, not as I do”. I believe that one of the best ways I can teach my children to be good, decent, loving, respectful people is by providing them with examples.When it comes to my girls, I attempt to conduct myself in ways that provide them with good, positive examples.

Sure, I’m not perfect, I can accept that. I have parenting moments that aren’t always stellar…just like every parent. I’m not trying to set an example of someone who is “perfect”. It’s both unrealistic to attempt, and to expect them to strive for.

Last week I had a less than stellar parenting moment with my oldest daughter, Kiddo. I drop them off with their dad every morning as I head out to work (he just lives down the street from me). We were running late, I was rushed, and I was hurrying them along. She was talking, talking, talking, and I found myself really impatient with her. I can’t remember exactly what I said, but I attempted to cut her off because I was in a bad mood and didn’t have time to deal with it.

That’s when she stopped me. “Mommy!” She said, the frustration clear in her voice, “You always tell us that we’re supposed to talk about our feelings. And right now I feel like you’re not letting me do that.”

Whoa. Pretty freaking articulate for a 6 year old.

She was right.

I apologized right away, she finished what she needed to say, and we went on our merry way.

I thought about all the way to work that morning. When I got to work, I phoned her at her dad’s house (they hadn’t left for school yet) just to talk to her a little more….to reiterate that she’d done the right thing by pointing my mistake out to her, and that I always, always want her to feel like she can talk about her feelings with me.

The conversation ended on a happy note, and I was able to continue on with my day.

Fast forward to the next week. I was hanging out with the girls, we were having fun and painting some Christmas pictures together. At one point, Kiddo didn’t listen to me, and so as a consquence, I told her that she had to be finished painting (we were almost ready to clean up anyhow). I sent her away from the table where we were working to wash up.

Five minutes later, a cleaned up Kiddo came to me, resting her hand on my arm.

I turned to face her.

“Mommy, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for not listening earlier.”

My heart warmed through.

“That’s okay, Kiddo. It happens to everyone sometimes. Thank you for your apology. I really appreciate it.”

The conversation ended with a huge, bone-cracking hug.

It’s good to know that even through my mistakes, I’m able to teach my girls what it means to be a good human being. We all mess up sometimes. It’s what we do with those mistakes that count the most.

Making My House a Home

This past January, I moved out of the house that my ex and I had lived in for four years or so (we continued living in the same house together for five months or so after splitting up). When we separated, we were just starting to reach the point where the house felt like “home”. Having two small children made any home improvements pretty difficult…so we were slowly working away at making it what we wanted it to be. And those efforts were finally beginning to pay off…when everything got turned upside down.

I have been in my current place for the past 10 months or so. It’s the longest in my adult life that I’ve ever had my “own” place. Sure, I’ve got the girls with me half the time, but since I’m the decision maker in the house, for all intents and purposes, it’s mine.

I still struggle with making it feel “homey”…like me. I’ve been slowly adding small touches here and there, that make it feel comfortable and that it represents my  style.  I realized the other day, when I dropped the girls off at their dad’s place that I still haven’t completely let go of the feeling that the house he’s living in, the house we once shared, is still somehow mine. It’s weird. It’s not that I even particularly loved that house or anything…I guess that it’s just that it is filled with a lot of happy memories that we shared there as a family. And even though I am building new memories in this new place, the new memories have yet to match in number.

Part of it, too, is that I feel like this apartment that I’m living in is merely a transitional place. I know that the girls and I will be living here for another year…but after that, I have no idea. Already a part of me is looking forward to a home that CBG and I will share together. Sure, that’s jumping the gun a little bit…but it’s the end goal for me, and always somewhere in the back of my mind.  It’s hard to think of the place that I’m in as anything other than a “for now” home. But still….I have been feeling lately that I need to put more effort into making this place “mine”. It might only be a “for now” apartment, but I still need it to feel like home. This wasn’t ever something that I realized was so important to me..but as I learn more about myself on this journey that I’m on, the more I realize how having a comfy, cozy home, truly representative of who I am as a person, is essential for me.

It’s all part of the process of figuring out who this Momma Sunshine gal is. You know what? She’s pretty cool.

Through the Magic of the Internet…

This afternoon I’m hopping on the bus and heading to CBG’s for the weekend. Since he’s still without a proper internet connection, and more importantly, since I plan on being *quite* busy for the next few days,  keeping up with my NaBloPoMo goal of posting every day is next to impossible.

Except, my friends, through the magic of the internet. And WordPress, of course, which allows me to pre-schedule blog posts, so one appears every single day, even though I myself might not actually be online that day. And yes, NaBloPoMo Gods, that does still count. I’ve been writing my ass off all week.

Dear WordPress: I heart you.

Dear NaBloPoMo, I’m totally kicking your ass.

Trust

Trust has been a huge theme in my life in the last year.

Trust, or rather, the breakdown of it, was what made my marriage irreparable. There were a lot of other issues there, issues that likely could have been overcome, given enough time and effort. But without trust, you’re not able to work together as a couple to solve all the other problems.

Trust had a lot to do with the breakdown of many of my former friendships. Though I’m sure their version(s) of the story differs from mine, it essentially boiled down to the fact that, for so many reasons, I realized that I could no longer trust them. I couldn’t trust them with my problems. I couldn’t trust them with my issues. I couldn’t trust them to come to me when things started going wrong. I couldn’t trust them to see the truth.

Yes, I made some poor choices along the way, that I won’t deny. But where there is trust, poor choices can be worked through and forgiven.

In both of these cases, the trust was broken to a point where I believe it can never be repaired. Sometimes that just happens.

Trust is difficult for me. Not just for the reasons above; I had a hard time with it well before that. I admit that in the beginning with CBG, I was constantly looking for reasons not to trust him. I pounced on and questioned so many things. Anything I could find, in fact.

The thing about looking for reasons to not trust someone is that eventually you will find it. And I did. And ultimately I lashed out in a way that shook his trust in me right back.

But since then, since those missteps on each of our parts, we have been working together towards rebuilding that trust. We both realized that our love for each other was more important than those things that shook our trust in one another.

I find it no coincidence that I, someone who has difficultly trusting people, finds herself in a long distance relationship, in which trust is crucial. When you’re in a long distance relationship, if you don’t have complete trust in your partner, then you don’t have anything. This is just one of the many, many ways that our relationship is so fulfilling and bringing me exactly what I need in my life right now.

And together, we keep working. We continue to love each other fiercely and build on our foundation of trust. Because I have realized that although a relationship without trust is impossible, trust without love first can’t happen either. Because for me, if the love is there, and strong enough, then anything else is possible.

And as we work together to maintain trust – more trust than I’ve ever had for another person, I might add – I realize that our love is strong enough. It may have taken the loss of many other relationships to reach this point in my life…but the happiness that I feel these days tells me that it’s absolutely worth it.

Someday…

Yesterday on the way home from work I caught myself in mid-daydream about the future with CBG. I saw so many things.

Someday we will live under the same roof. This I know. I don’t know when or how or how long it will take, but some day it will happen. I feel this whenever I think about a future home of my own.

Someday our home will be filled with laughter and silliness and passion and joy and love until it is bursting at the seams.

Someday we will fall asleep in each other arms every single night. My heart has whispered this to me on all the nights that I crawl into bed alone.

These are things that will happen…someday.

But for today?

Today I have a man who absolutely adores me. Who shows me every single day how much I mean to him, even though most of these days we’re aren’t together.

Today I have a man who makes me laugh like no one else ever has.

Today I have a man who shares the same heart as me.

Today I have a man who walks beside me as I tread many difficult paths.

Today I have a man who respects me enough to give me the space I need to be me, without expectation or pressure. A man who loves me enough  to go long periods without seeing me. A man who believes in us.

And for today, that’s really all I need.

But someday? Someday I’ll have it all.

Friendship and Laughter

** As happens from time to time, CBG and I today have posted on similiar topics today. I swear, it wasn’t planned.

* * * * *

Last night I hung out out with my friend Dimples. We only had vague plans about coffee “or something”, and ended up going into a little Greek restaurant downtown that neither one of us had been to before, to share an appetizer, dessert, and some great conversation.

It would seem that he and I are developing a comfortable and close friendship. I really enjoy hanging out with him. He has possibly one of the best hearts of any person I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. One of the things that really strikes me is that he is also very broken, with a personal history that that is as complicated and messy as my own. He is a good reminder to me that having a complicated life or a complicated past doesn’t make one any less of a human being. Dimples frequently reminds me of my own goodness, in a way that only a good friend who doesn’t sugar-coat anything can. He is a terrific example of someone who has risen, and who continues to rise, above the difficulties that life has thrown in his way. He is a fighter. He is a survivor.

Last night we shared a lot of “stuff”. Stories about our complex pasts, which have been coming out gradually in pieces over the last several months. It’s like putting a puzzle together, slowly, with those enlightening moments when the picture starts to make sense. Each piece has value on its own, but when snapped into place, it gives you a much better idea of the whole picture of who this person is. Mixed with these heavy tales were light and fluffy bits, including one particular story told to me by Dimples (which I couldn’t possibly do justice by re-telling here) that had me laughing until my sides ached.

Because you know, a good friendship isn’t all about the deep and heavy stuff. You need to throw some laughter in there now and again, too. Fortunately, we are able to do a lot of that. It’s funny how sometimes facing a lot of difficulties in life can give you that ability to laugh at yourself and life. ‘Cuz if you can’t laugh at it now and again, then it’s pretty grim indeed.

I’ve learned a lot in the last year about what friendship – true friendship – really is. The surprising part for me is that not only is it something totally different than what I once believed it to be, I am also finding it in places that I never imagined. And for both of these things, I am intensely grateful…because it feels as though a veil has been lifted, and I am truly seeing the world, my world, for the first time in a very long time. It’s been a challenging year for me in terms of friendships, so to find someone that I am able to share and connect like this is such a very welcome thing.

I seem to be saying this a lot lately, but I feel the need to say it again: Life is good.

80s Flashback

I have a playlist on my iPod called “Cheesy 80s Tunes”. It’s one the things that CBG and I bonded over early…our shared love of all things 80s. Music, movies, fashion…you name it.

This morning as I was making my way from the bus stop to my work, I was listening to my “Cheesy 80s” playlist, and this song popped up. And well, it made me think of CBG, and I just had to post it for everyone’s torture enjoyment.

‘Cuz you know, baby, I AM happy to be stuck with you.

 

Self-Empowerment Through Writing

I’ve considered myself a writer since the ripe old age of about 11 or so. That’s when I started writing “novels” for my friends to pass around and read. Since then I’ve dabbled in fiction, non-fiction, poetry, journalling and of course, in the last several years, blogging. I started blogging as a way to get me writing regularly, with the hope of actually eventually doing something with it.

Turns out I’m so busy blogging, that I don’t have a whole lot of time to devote to my “other writing”. But that’s okay. Blogging is extremely therapeutic for me. Without it, I’m not sure I would have been able to survive everything that I’ve faced in the last two years or so of my life.

Recently I was contacted by Leah Carey, telling me all about her writing program, WriteAway, which is based on the concept of using writing as a healing art. Uh…yeah. She got me at the “healing” part, for sure. **

Every day for 40 days, Leah will will post a writing prompt as a way to get participants writing – about their thoughts, feelings, beliefs and experiences surrounding divorce. It can be for anyone in any stage of the divorce process.These prompts will be posted every morning on her site, Twitter, or her facebook group. It’s recommended that you spend about 20 minutes per day on the writing exercise.

On her site she also offers a support forum, since the writing process can often dig up lots of emotions.

The program begins on Wednesday, November 18th, and will continue for the next 40 days. I hope that any of you who are still processing any emotions surrounding your divorce will participate…I think that this could be a very useful tool.

** For those who may be wondering, no, I am not being paid or otherwise compensated for promoting this writing program. I was simply approached and asked if I was interested in promoting this site to my readers. When I found out what it was all about, I jumped all over this opportunity. I plan on participating, and will, at various points throughout the 40 days, randomly post here my own responses to the writing prompts.

Making it Work

CBG stole my thunder a little bit on the weekend when he talked about what I’ve been up to in terms of Christmas plans.

Hey, I’ll allow it — after all, it’s *his* kid, right?

heh.

In any case, CBG’s daughter, Rugrat, has been on my mind a bit as the holidays approach. I’m going to be meeting her for the first time, and a couple of months ago she’d made up her mind that she wasn’t going to like me.

Since I’m pretty new to this whole “extended family thing”, I’ll admit that I didn’t take it very well initially.

That was a couple of months ago. In the meantime, I’ve been reminding myself about how I have no control over how other people see me –even CBG’s daughter. I remember what it’s like to be 10 going on 30. If the girl doesn’t want to like me, then she’s simply not going to like me. The thing is, though…I don’t own that. All I can do is my best to ensure that our initial meeting goes as well as possible, and the rest is up to her.

I’ve been thinking about a Christmas gift for Rugrat, and how finding something that she’d really like would certainly help my cause. I talked to CBG about it a bit, but….as metro as he might be, he’s still a dude. A dude who still very much wants to believe that his little girl is still….a little girl. A dude who might not necessarily be aware that his kid is no longer into Hannah Montana.

Since CBG and Rugrat’s mom are on good terms, I thought it might be a good idea to contact her directly to discuss gift options. CBG approached her about it first, to make sure that she’d be okay with it, and she didn’t hesitate to immediately contact me directly so we could chat about it.

I gotta say….she’s been fantastic. Not only has she been helpful when it came to suggesting gift ideas, but she was also very reassuring about my future relationship with Rugrat, and is doing as much as she can on her end to ensure the beginnings of a good relationship.

One thing that she said in her initial email to me that really struck me was this:

You seem to make him really happy and I am sure you will do the same for my daughter.

I’ve been thinking about that a lot these past couple of days….about how I really couldn’t ask for anything more in terms of a relationship with this woman. She is able to see that I want to treat her daughter well , and have the best possible relationship with her…and she is mature enough to do as much as she can on her end to ensure that happens. She’s putting her daughter first, no matter what came to pass between her and CBG in the past, and kudos to her for doing that.

The whole blending families thing wasn’t something that I thought about when I started down the road with a relationship with CBG. Of course it’s a huge deal, and I’m happy that everything seems to be working out in that department. It so reassuring to see that, despite the obstacles he and I do face, the biggest potential challenges seem to be going fairly smoothly. And that’s the most important thing, isn’t it?