9-26-2009 Free Museum Day 2009

Its Museum Free Day at any Smithsonian affiliated museum tomorrow. All you need to do is visit the links below, print a free day pass and go (valid for you and a guest). The link will also show you what museums this is valid for in your area!

Have fun with your kids!

http://microsite.smithsonianmag.com/museumday/about.html

http://www.smithsonianmag.com/museumday/museum-search/?state=California

Fear

Photo borrowed from: HERE

I am paralyzed with fear. Fear of change, fear of M's immaturity, just fear. I have no other excuse for not having filed for divorce after 3 years. After all, reconciliation was something I never wanted. And now, with M filled with anger, irrational and on the path of war, the fear is overwhelming. Life CAN get harder. Life WILL get harder.

I am seriously looking at filing my divorce papers by the end of the year.

Having taken on so many of our joint obligations i am really strapped for cash. There are other issues/considerations too. Regardless, I am trying to evaluate if, as an ex litigation paralegal, I should go pro per, or if I should look for an attorney.


Ahhh. The fear. I have spent my life trying to be always fair to those around me. Now, I am faced with a possible irrational adversary. I am scared!

On a much more short term basis: I dread picking up and dropping of lil' A right now. I leave to get him in 30 mins. My chest is so tight at the prospect of dealing with M, I could pass out.

A weekend with lil' A will fix it all!

"I have him"

Photo borrowed from: Here

I have been struggling with lil' A. Its been getting worse for the last few months. At daddy's house he is a little soldier, which makes activities all the more enjoyable. He is also with dad 3 days a week 9-5. The other weekdays he is at daycare. That leaves me with the hard parts of the day: dinner, bath and sleep. Not much time to do much more. I always plan a special trip for us on the weekend, but it is just not enough.

M and I had been working on our 'friendship' until it all fell apart last weekend (again!). I had made the mistake of telling M how much I am struggling as a parent and was not sure how to handle it. M's version of support was to insert himself in every situation. If I tell him lil' A is not behaving he would show up at my house to give him a time out?! What ended up happening is lil' A would purposefully be naughty so his daddy would come over.


can't get this song out of my head

Yesterday, in the heat of another argument with M, in which I told him I was not comfortable with his definition of friendship, he threw at me vengefully: "At least I HAVE him!" nodding in lil' A's direction. The way it was said was more like, at least I have taken possession of him, at least I know he likes me best. What hurts the most is that I believe that. I know the time I spend with lil' A is not as entertaining. I know dad buys him all the cool toys and treats (I can't afford to do that since I am the one paying most of daddy's debts!)

The way M said it, killed me. It made my heart stumble and my stomach turn. In that very statement I read an overt threat to take my son from me (sooner or later). I had to walk out. I was scared of the response that comment brought up in me.

I have been up all night thinking about it. How do I make the little time I have with lil' A, better. How do I 'compete' with the expensive toys, with the manipulator's days, how do I fight for my son's love?

A better place now

 
When M and I first separated I was in a bad place. I had spent the last 6-7 years giving everything I had. Due to the cyclical nature of his affairs (emotional only supposedly! That's worse!) there was only about 2-3 months a year without the shadow of someone else hanging over our relationship. Who it was, was besides the point. The women changed every few months, whatever the hottest bread of the day was. The issue for me was that there was never the acknowledgment that what he was doing was wrong. I had never been more alone, than when I was in that relationship. It was exasperating to feel abandoned, and yet to be unable to move past or walk away.

After I had lil' A I realized that I had mistaken all the pain I had been in for a symptom of love. If I hurt so bad it must mean I love M so much! Lil' A changed all that. Suddenly I realized life will and has to move forward, with or without M. I realized that the pain was not love. I realized that no matter what, I will go on, I will be okay as long as lil' A was okay.

That last affair M had, I took a different approach. Instead of questioning M about the calls, the evenings away from me and lil' A and the money spent in places he has not been to, I pretended I had no clue, I pretended I was as stupid as he had treated me throughout our marriage.  Meanwhile I collected data. Dates and times, copies of phone records, emails, text messages, even pictures from her myspace page. A docier on one of many emotional affairs. One day, I snapped. Out I told M, out! Out of the house we purchased we could not afford, out of my life, out of the deceit. After throwing the evidence in his face, he could no longer deny it.

Suddenly I was completely alone, with a 6 month old infant. And yet, I did not feel alone at that time and still don't now, compared to those years, trapped in an un-reciprocated marriage.  I picked up some old hobbies to keep me occupied. Painting was one of them.   My first painting was so liberating. So filled with anger, so filled with hope.

Two years later and W, a new friend, told me, "Wow! Look at that painting! I would kill of something like that in my office. Where did you buy it?" What I like about W is that he is somewhat intuitive. It surprised me when he commented on how angry yet peaceful it was. Later that night, I sat amazed. M had hated all my work. He had never bothered to even comment on it. On this particular painting the only thing he said was, "Weird!"

And there was this man, W, who suddenly showed me that what I had wanted from M for so many years actually existed. In so many ways, W renewed my faith in the fact that there are people, men, out there that are good.

Three months later it was W's birthday and a particularly difficult month in terms of finances. I decided to paint him a painting. I used the same color scheme as the original and channeled my energy into our friendship as I painted. When W looked at it he was silent for a long time.

I was so worried he did not like it.

I squirmed and was uncomfortable.

Eventually I spoke, "You can have the other one if you don't like this one!"

"No!" he said, "I love it. I love that you are in such a better place now. I love the joy, the playfulness. It only makes me sad to see how much pain you had compared to this."

And it was true. I am hurting now. Hurting with the questions of existence, of sustenance, of self. These are but toys to tinker with, compared to the hurt, the pain and the darkness that was surrounding me before.

I am in a good place now. I am at the beginning of an open road, and the future is unwritten.

Pushing Forward

Mother and Child, by Boris Novak, borrowed from: Here

As a single mom i don't have the luxury to wallow. I need to, and have to, push forward no matter what the circumstances.

We lost two of our three cats last week. The older, a mean, cranky man, who only tolerated me, and was the passive king of the house, had been with me since college. He was going to turn 10 in November. The gray, little princes was 7 and she was lil' A's cat. She adored him and insisted on guarding him all night, and followed him everywhere he went. Whenever he cried she would rush to him, bristled up and prepared to fight off whatever is bothering him. They died suddenly, unexpectedly, and 3 days apart.

They defined an era in my life. I got the old guy but a few months after college. He was there for me through my marriage and separation and offered me comfort I could not draw from anywhere else. The princess, adaptable, and the alpha, was the first pet lil' A would truly bond with.

I have not had time to cry, to mourn, to fall apart. The circumstances were terrible, gruesome, and sadly, I had to keep it together for my little boy. Every morning when he wakes up he searches for his little kitty. Every night when I go to sleep, I feel the empty spot on my legs where my old man cat would sleep at night. How do you explain death to someone who lives almost entirely in the moment? How do I tell lil' A that they are not coming back?

Pushing though all this, I have to put on a brave face. I have to be able to go out and play soccer, to giggle and wrestle, to give him the feeling of security, to make him feel everything is going to be okay.

Meanwhile, he is challenging me at every chance he gets. His sense of identity, much like mine, kicking into gear. The 'I don't want to' stage is kicking my butt.  The changes at home, the cats passing, communication deteriorating with M, all contribute to his behavior.

Yesterday, I had planned a wonderful evening for us. It started as planned, a hour at the park playing soccer, followed by dinner. At dinner everything deteriorated.

"I don't want to!" he screamed at the top of his lungs.

Squirming so as not to pee himself he refused to use the potty. Time out, soon turned into a major tantrum. Eventually, sitting on the floor with lil' A in my lap, rocking back and forth, while he cried into my neck, he looked up and told me "Momma, I want to make you cry. I want to make you mad, because I am sad."

This took me unawares. Usually the I don't want to's tend to exasperate me, make me mad and grumpy. This was one of the times I refused to let him get to me (or at least appeared so). His statement shook me up a bit.

"Why are you sad, baby?" I asked him.

"Because I don't want to be a good boy. Because I don't want to listen to mama." The bare honesty in a 3 year olds innocent face made this statement even more poignant.

"Baby, I love you no matter what. I love you when you are sad, and I love you when you are a bad boy and nothing can change that." Somehow he did not like that answer. 

I went on cautiously: "You can be a bad boy if you want to. But then you have to be in time out and be sad. Or you can be a good boy and both you and mama will be happy and we will play with your new toys and draw like I promised you." He looked at me hopeful.

"I'll be a good boy mama. Lets be happy." Yet he still refused to go potty despite his squirming getting more and more urgent. 

"Baby, I gotta go peepee." I told him, realizing it was time to get creative, "But I don't know how. Can you show me?" He looked at me amused, and walked into the bathroom. As soon as he flushed and washed his hands he ran up to me:

"Mama, I am a good boy now!"

Patience was something i never had. Its something I am learning to be better at. I want my little boy to grow up to be a good, caring person. I know these moments of testing limits, and how I deal with them, are part of how he forms his understanding of the world, of rules, of the power balance in a family. And yet, sometimes it feels like I am breaking his little, obstinate, spirit. And other times, it feels like his is breaking me.

One thing I know, he is teaching me things that only he can. Patience, love in the face of blatant obstinacy, pushing through and looking forward. I have never loved anyone enough to be able to learn these lessons with them, until now.

Then I stop and think: I am truly blessed.

Photo borrowed from: Here

Dreams

Photo borrowed from: Here

I used to have a lot of dreams. I dreamt of fame. In a small way, i had it on the runways of Asia. I dreamt of college, and did it, going to an Ivy League university. I dreamt of being an artist, I dreamt of being a photographer (does a failed wedding photography business count?).

I always dreamt of having a life partner. I lover, a friend, an equal. Marriage, kids, the white picket fence and house to go with it... those i did not care for much. A soul mate was what i spent my life craving.

I am still looking for that, but jaded, wondering if such a thing exists. I pride myself on being a pragmatic woman, but deep inside, i crave and want to believe in romance, but even more importantly I still believe, in spite of experience, in love.

I read about 'The Secret' on another blogger's page, and suddenly realized that my day to day existence did not help me in getting out of this hole i have been digging for the last 10 years. I had to visualize. I had to know what i was looking for.

And there comes the complexity of the issue. When I was younger, i definitely had a 'type' that I can easily visualize. Tall, dark, strikingly handsome, and definitely ethnically (and racially) diverse from myself.  My parents, especially daddy dearest,  had hoped that was a phase. Despite their self proclaimed liberal intellectualism, their fear of the unknown was much greater. Race, and that which looked different was not acceptable.

Glossing over the misery of my teenage years, and confusion at college (controlled remotely like a puppet, yet rebelling whenever I could), I came to the place where M and I were engaged. I had tried so many times to tell my parents over the phone, but was promptly cut off and shut down.

Photo borrowed from : Here

In March, we got married. In May my father called me to tell me i have been gone too long. They are buying me a ticket to go home. I tried to tell him I can't but he was not interested. I am married! I finally blurted out. Without a moment of hesitation, he shot out his pressing question: What color is he? I refused to dignify that question with an answer. It was another 6 years before we spoke again, after the birth of my son, whose pictures proved that my husband was not black, although he certainly must have had dark features. Where did that dark hair come from? And those huge, black, watery, loving eyes?

I wish that were the end of that story. A familial reconciliation over the miracle of a child born. There is too much mud to waddle through to be able to reconcile.

It was but another year, upon the discovery of my father's late stage cancer, and his refusal to undergo conventional treatment, that my mother told me about the book. The life work my daddy dearest had spent his days and partly nights (when he was not skulking in the hallway around my bedroom, or sneaking around my school, some 20 miles away from home, at recess) was now live online. Why, oh why did i read the thinly veiled biography and journal of my youthful tortures?

Going back to my 'type'. Combine the familial attitudes, and my ex's inherent racism, my age and general white collar environment, and I am battling with myself over this.
I sit in a restaurant as a gorgeous, black man walks in, and I instinctively look over, my stomach crunches, I hold my breath. And then, after years of training, I force myself to look away and push away the obvious attraction, not even daring to acknowledge it. 

Yet, now, that I am single, I know some things that are important to me in a partner (of any color): loving, honest communication;  maturity; being in a good place in life; secure and stable; equally educated.

Have I narrowed the pool down enough?

And then the question looms: Am I even ready or able to have a relationship now?

Here is my daily schedule:
Wake up
Feed the little guy, A
Drive him to day care or dad's house
Work
Pick A up
Cook dinner
Shower
Play with A
Go to bed.

Good Lord! Its a miracle anything gets done at all. At this point, after having to fight for this tooth and nail, i get TWO Fridays a month where A is with M overnight. No, not two weekends a month. TWO Fri evenings. Pick A up again Sat am. God forbid i actually have some time to be an adult, to be an individual, to be anything else but mom.

I love lil A so much, but M goes out of his way to make me feel like a bad mom for wanting time to myself. I have met others, who assume that as a single mother, i have no right to think, to want anything for myself.  That just makes me mad. Very mad.

I am lost

Photo borrowed from: Here

So here I am. An identity crisis at hand. Muddled are the waters in which i swim, dark and cloudy. I know the sharks are there, but can not see them. I suspect this fear and confusion are fueled by the fact that i am uncertain of the future, lost in direction and generally in turmoil.

I dream of finding a partner and a soul mate but wonder if my last relationship was damaging enough to make it impossible for me to have one?

I feel so tightly wound up and unable to relax and let go and be me (who is that?). I have spent the last 8-9 years being miserable and I wonder if i remember how to be happy, how to flirt, how to have fun? More importantly, how to have a healthy relationship? I know that one can not have any kind of relationship unless they know who they are and where they are going. Alas, i cycle through knowing who I am and questioning myself or, as in the present moment, being completely lost. It does not help that i have no immediate support network to lean on, that i am battling depression, that i a financially screwed coming out of this marriage, and that i have not as of yet filed for divorce. I am literally living day to day (and on rough days moment to moment), and being completely alone (aside form my gorgeous little angel of a kid), the very thought of the future is exhausting to me.

Then there are moments of such distinct clarity. I see me as the woman I was 10 years ago, joyful, confident, attractive, impulsive and a lot less concerned with the internal workings of my emotions and mind. I used to have such faith in myself and my abilities!

So how does one go on a voyage of self discovery while still being a good mom, a good employee, a good person? How does one with no support find the time to discover themselves?

Perhaps these questions are pointless. Then again, I am 31. I would hate to spend the rest of my life stumbling in the dark, swimming aimlessly in the cloudy waters, being lost.