The past year has been difficult, to say the least. Logistically, just surviving has been a challenge. I’ve never lived on my own before, so it has been a struggle to be the sole bill-payer, house cleaner, and general keeper-upper-with-things. Add to that the whole single-parent issue, and I can say with certainty that it has all pretty much sucked. But I’m doing it. I’m paying all my bills, keeping up with most things, and the kids have stayed generally clean and well-fed. I had a hard time remembering to keep their teeth brushed for while, but we’ve overcome that minor hurdle. I’m doing it, but it’s been really really hard. It’s been all about survival this last year, physically as well as emotionally. And because of that I haven’t been the kind of mommy that I once was.

Don’t get me wrong. I am cutting myself some serious slack in this department because, honestly, things are going very well and that in itself is a testament to what a good mom I am. But lately I’ve hit kind of a wall of grief over it. Everything now is rush rush rush, get to school, get to bed, get to daddy’s house. We’re not at home that much, and when we are it doesn’t even feel like home, because we’ve just recently moved again. The girls are in a constant state of transition, and it’s been all I can do to just keep us moving through it all. This is all so different. I remember the days when all we did was paint. Or play with playdoh. Or walk to the park on a sunny afternoon. I had so much time to be a mom, and my entire existence was focused on them. I used to read parenting books and go to lectures, I was involved with Babs’ preschool and our church groups. Everything was centered around them, and it’s just not anymore.

I realize now, of course, that focusing my life solely on my children was part of the “problem”. I lost myself in trying to become a perfect mommy, and I never spent time thinking about who I was or what I wanted. The marriage suffered as well. Ammon and I were never alone together. We went away only once after the kids were born, and that was at the very end in a vain attempt to salvage our crumbling relationship. When we separated, I was forced to question for the first time who I really was. The labels “wife” and “stay-at-home mom” were suddenly stripped from me, and once they were gone I realized that it was those very labels I used to describe myself. I was so lost, and I grieved for the comfort of knowing where I stood in the world. And I have spent the last 9 months completely rebuilding the definition of my existence. I have been so absorbed by that, so deep in my head about it all, that it has been hard to be as present mentally as I would like to be for the kids. And that feels pretty shitty. Good lord, this has been the most frightening and tumultuous time in their lives, and I haven’t really been there with them. I haven’t talked with them like I used to, or just sat down and played. All I’ve been doing is walking behind them with my hands on their backs, pushing them forward into this new life. Let’s go c’mon we’re late we have to go go go go go. My poor babies.

I think this is all coming up because Babs’ birthday is right around the corner, and it’s time to start planning a birthday party. My concerns are so different this year than in years past. It’s no longer, how will we celebrate? or who should we invite? but what the hell can I handle without being completely overwhelmed? And that breaks my heart a little bit. I don’t want her birthday to be about me. It should be about her. She has been such a champ. Both of them have dealt amazingly well with the changes in their lives, and have come through it like the strong little troopers they are. But I’m wondering now if the reason they have been so strong is because they have had to be. Because I haven’t been able to be strong for them, and give them a safe place to be weak.

Hawaii was a very huge experience for me. It was there that I realized how truly capable and successful I am, completely on my own. I realized that I no longer have to rely on others for support or guidance, because I finally have my shit together enough to figure it out on my own. And the best part, the part that blew my mind, was realizing that I don’t want to rely on anyone anymore. I like making decisions and taking action on my own, because I trust myself to do the right thing, and I trust myself to do it well. I discovered that I like who I have become, and that for the first time in my life it feels really good to be me. It was so hard to come home, back to this stressful, crazy life, after having had such a peaceful experience there. But I’ve been trying to hold on to those feelings and weave them into my life here. I’ve been trying to let go of stress and guilt, and remember that I can do it, that I will do it, and that I will do it all well. I am constantly overwhelmed by this new life, but I have a new sense of calm that has come by just believing in myself for the first time ever. I hope that I can take this new strength and re-focus a bit on my daughters. It feels good to be a strong woman, but that strength means nothing unless I can use it to be a good mother. They need more of me, I know this. And I think that I am finally whole enough to give parts of myself away again. Life used to feel like I was holding water in my cupped hands, trying desperately to keep it from seeping out between my fingers. Holding on to that water was all I could think about. But I think it’s finally time to let go, to know that I am capable enough of finding water anywhere I go. I could trek across a desert if I needed to, and find the oasis on the other side.

My daughters have given me so much purpose, so much drive to become a better person for their sakes, and I think the time has come to show them how very thankful I am to have them in my life.