Best Friends and Tangents

I miss my best friends.

It is so late. I should be sleeping like the rest of this household, but my mind is buzzing with activity and I cannot seem to shut it down, brand new pillow or not. I did not get to sleep in this morning and I was up late last night too. Apologies in advance because this post will likely end up unproofed and as messy as my front room this morning when the Hurricane dumped his bucket of trains and books and assorted toys e.v.e.r.y.w.h.e.r.e.

So last night, my best friend and I had our montly-ish girl night and I drank about four too many glasses of iced tea at the ever awesome downtown brewery. Best cobb salad in the city. Way too much caffeine. She was catching me up on her adventures when she felt the need to use the disclaimer that although I am her best friend, I’m not THE best friend she’s ever had. Duh, right? So funny that she even felt the need to qualify having more than one best friend because 1. We are not in high school and 2. She’s not THE best friend I’ve ever had either, which I know she knows. I do love her to death though.

So hop, skip, a few dozen tangents and twenty-four hours later.. I miss my other best friends. I sincerely believe those are my soulmates. The really BIG, important, significant people who come into your life just before you really need them and usually leave when you hardly notice you don’t as much anymore. My high school best friend who knew both me and my ex-husband. I miss that drive across town, just to hang out in her room and talk about.. I can’t even remember. I know I wasn’t her best, best friend, but that’s okay. My college best friends. We used to have everything in common and now we’ve all gone in different directions, friendships fragmented by too much distance, too much time. I miss playing Wii, all cramped in a tiny dorm room. I miss late night trips to the Fishbowl, talking about laws of attraction, our classes, life after college and spending all of our spare change on vending machine hot chocolate. The late night to early morning chats on our LAN music sharing site about literally everything, everything.

I am not the same person who was their best friend, and tonight especially I wonder if they would recognize me at all, but I do miss them. I would love a day to catch up with each of them. To get a glimpse of how things turned out for them. To let them know that I cheer them on when they come to mind. And although I know circumstances will never be the same to make us active best friends again, these people will always have a place in my heart.

Such is the nature of soulmates.

Michelle

Divorce Chronicles :: Two Years Later

Dustin and I had an amazing time yesterday. We have been talking about going to Six Flags Magic Mountain for over a year now and finally made the trip. Splurged on Flash Passes for the first time ever and got to ride every coaster we wanted, most two or three times. There were a couple good coasters I have never had a chance to ride before, and it has been years, but Goliath, at night, was still my favorite. Nothing beats that first drop. Nothing beats the anticipation and thrill, the energy in the air, that deep breath and long scream, and those moments that steal your breath away. It was perfect. Exactly what I needed and more. 

And then this afternoon, during a quiet moment of the Hurricane’s nap, Facebook kindly reminded me that I have been divorced for exactly two years. So fitting, really, given the mild emotional breakdown I had in the car this morning on the way home… We are flying down the interstate and start talking about our wedding, just 40 days and 40 nights away. So soon, but so far away given that I feel like I have known this man forever – and often have to remind myself that we just truly met a year and a half ago. I commented honestly, that I am mostly pretty sure I am ready to get remarried when a wave of shame and anger and regret washed over me. Those deep in the pit of your stomach ugly, ugly feelings. And my concern for still being able to feel that way, even two years later caused me to burst into tears.

I am certain it is not that I am not ready to marry him. It’s the wasted time, years and years and almost a decade of wasted time, the cracks in my heart, the betrayal of trust that were all for nothing. Because besides the Hurricane, and being free and having a hell of a lot more confidence in who I am and why I’m here on this earth, no good comes from what I went through. But that’s everything at the same time, isn’t it?

It is everything. So I cried for my divorce and for me, and for the messy and beautiful family my son will have. For everything I never really wanted, wasn’t expecting, didn’t sign up for. Dustin reached over and grabbed my hand, calmly told me that it may never fully go away and that it’s okay if it never does and we sat in silence for a couple miles. He is my zen and I am so thankful. I still have a big heart, and it just so happens to be a big day in the short history of my divorced life. The highlight of which was picking up the Hurricane and him running at us yelling, “Mommy! Daddy!” before throwing himself into my arms. The gentle reminder that I am immeasurably blessed among this chaos.

Love and light,

Michelle

Looking Glass

[[The thing about droughts is, the grass isn’t greener anywhere.]]

I’m up too late again. I can feel a headache settling in for the night. Or maybe just the tension of too many thoughts demanding to be recognized before the day is done. My brain feels frantic and my body is too tired to work out that energy any way other than to half sit, half lie here and write. 

So… Tomorrow marks one month at my new job. I made cookies. Oatmeal chocolate chip and peanut butter chocolate chip. Half celebrating myself and half because the chocolate chips needed to be used up before the whole bag found its way into late night snack territory. If the idea of baking for myself sounds pretentious or sad, I don’t care. They are for everyone there anyway. And because busying myself with baking and organizing and working out are things I do when I am feeling stressed out and going through things. 

And I am going through them. 

I want to say “it’s funny how…blah blah blah” but it isn’t really funny or ironic at all. It is hard and painful and unfortunate that anything about who I was once upon a lifetime ago affects me today, but I am who I am and so it does. Evocation is not a tendency for the faint of heart. That’s a word, right, evocation, evoke? I’m too tired to look it up but it sounds about right. And I’m not the type of person who can just let the past…be. There’s that whole quote about those forgetting history being destined to relive it. Probably butchering that, but you get my point, I hope. 

I have always, mostly been brutally honest so it’s just been hard. Second engagement brings up a trunkload of doubts and insecurities. My first marriage failed and it is a big deal to me – so much so that I even hate that phrase “first marriage” like I ever went in with the explicit goal of getting out. So yes, Marriage is a big deal to me. I was an awful first wife in so many ways and can only hope to have learned enough to not let that history ever repeat itself. 

I suppose I should make more time to get through this maze of emotions and just be done with it, but time is a rare commodity. I’m happy, so happy but I am also scared. Dustin is such a good man. And we do really make a good team. There’s just the tiny voice all but drown out by the chaos saying it will all, most likely be alright. No promises, but also no regrets. 
Love and light,

Michelle

Love is a Verb

I am up too late, painting my nails, listening to a slow song and the rare sound of my wind chimes blowing in the warm summer breeze.

It was so difficult to be an adult today. To take care of a crabby two and a half year old who talked back or fought everything, every chance he got.. To clean the apartment, clean out my car, get laundry and dishes and all that getting ready for the week ahead done. We all woke up on the wrong side of the weekend. We all napped while hurricane napped. And I get to paint my nails now because the whole house is asleep besides me. 

I got a new job. A promotion. It is amazing to the extent of renewing my love for veterinary medicine. I don’t have time to write much anymore – not that I ever seem to have a whole lot – in part because my schedule is different but also because I am trying to catch up my tech skills. 

And since I last wrote, I finally made it to the beach. It had been too long..

 
    

Are you ready? Next great adventure in queue. That photo of me pretty much sums up my feelings on the matter. Happy. So happy and so myself. Choosing marriage again is not something I take lightly, but also not something I can adequately address tonight with the overall mood of today being what it was… 

I did, however, share a quote on Instagram earlier that I know you will agree fits perfectly if you have any knowledge of me/my story. 

[I find it important to add that you also never ever have to feel guilty for making the incredibly difficult choice to leave. Although do be prepared for when those feels try to sneak attack you.]

So we are diving in! I am confident in my choice. Venue at our favorite CA beach and an amazing photographer booked for this October. Dress shopping next weekend. Dozens of little details to work out in the chaos of parenthood and a new job. Nothing is static for long around me, and it is this weird kind of bliss. Like being up late alone, listening to the sound of my wind chimes that have been with me from the very beginning.

Love, love as the verb and sweet dreams,

Michelle 

Happy Father’s Day 2015

When I was a kid, my dad deployed or went on detachment often enough, worked long hours, hardly ever felt home. When he did get back, it was always a bit of a struggle re-adapting to having him there. It was not always ideal, but I can see more clearly now having a son of my own and being a working mom, that my family was always doing the best we could. I always had a roof over my head. I always had good health/dental insurance. I always had plenty of food to eat. Those things, those blessings, are easy to take for granted as a kid, but my struggles as a single mom have clearly shown me otherwise. My dad was and continues to be an awesome provider. He had the strength to stay sane in a family with four alpha females and together with my mom raised three amazing women, the first of whom was me.


My dad taught me some of the most important life lessons I have learned. Taught me to be honest, a trait that has defined who I am almost more than anything. He helped me see that being very emotional and being logical is possible. That I never have to give up my dream, never have to compromise or diminish my standards to be on someone else’s level. He is the reason picking a toolbox/tool shelf is the first thing I do when I move. Confidence with laying tile floors, changing out ceiling lights, belt sanders, stud finders, laser levels, table saws and a variety of basic tools is a skill I appreciate more and more as I get older. My love for fixing things and almost anything do-it-yourself started as a kid, begrudgingly helping him with the current project in the garage. I did not appreciate those times then, but I certainly do now. I promise to make my hurricane help me out as well, to give him the same confidence.

My dad is so great that he was promoted to grandpa! He continues to be one of the most positive, fatherly influences in the hurricane’s life. I will be forever thankful for my family allowing us to move back in with them, for watching my son as I worked on myself and our future, for loving him as much if not more than they love me. He is blessed with some awesome grandparents!

Then there’s the boyfriend. He met me at a low point in my life. He respected me as single mom, living with my parents, trying to make the best life possible for my son and I. He watched many bath times, observed my parenting style in every situation possible, and was always okay with my son coming first in my schedule, in my life. There will be no step in his title. He is already a dad, even though we don’t have a kid of “our own” just yet.

And of course there is my ex-husband, because you did mention still checking in on this blog now and then. Without you I would not be a mom. We made the cutest kid (biased of course!) and I hope that we both continue to grow into inspiring, loving co-parents of this smart, sweet, hyper little hurricane. Your presence in his life does matter, as do those of your family, and will be always be important. He will never be able to say that he comes from a “broken home,” but rather from a village, surrounded by many adults who love and want the best for him.

Happy Father’s Day to the amazing fathers like mine, to the ones who help heal broken hearts and to those other single moms doing it all on your own.

Love, more love and light,

Michelle

Pomp (and Circumstance)

I did not walk at my college graduation. Had to move out of my suite, did not feel like waiting for Sunday morning to come around just to walk all over campus in muggy, 100 degree weather. I was so burned out, finishing up a 23 unit quarter.. Besides, I had just made all of my family visit for my wedding six weeks prior. I didn’t think anyone would come, and my best friends weren’t graduating with me. 

It’s something I have let go, for the most part. I am not the same person now that I was then. The idea of having all those eyes on me, what to wear, who would show up at 10am on Sunday, what if no one did… Those thoughts were overwhelming, so I pushed forward. 

I rushed home, so I could rush to South Carolina to be with my then-husband. Four years later…I wish I had customized the top of my cap. Wish I had a photo of my best friend and me, because me leaving changed everything. I see the photos posted from my college every commencement and I wish I had stayed. I skipped out on one of the most quintessential college experiences, in my opinion. 

You could say this post was inspired by a parallel debate in my mind. The boyfriend and I are talking big things, shiny rings and our future together. I have a tendency – I am learning of myself – to feel anxious, bored, overwhelmed and rush to the next thing. To just move to the next step, next stage in life, whether I am ready or not. It’s part spontaneity, part chaos. 

My license is done. Got it. Finally. And now it’s time to tackle the next big thing, one chunk at a time. I think I’m ready this time. I know this probably sounds like a bunch of incoherent rambling to some, but that’s a peek into the mind of this mom/vet tech/fitness fanatic. I’ve got at least a dozen windows open and I am running on toilet sore legs, too little sleep, not enough water, and I still need to go grocery shopping tonight so I can go to the gym first thing tomorrow.. 

Let’s do this, 

Michelle