You Already Know How This Will End

 

It's been 6 months since I've been here last. Time means nothing nowadays. Someone asked me about this blog and it gave me pause. I never liked a cliffhanger and so here I am wrapping it up. 

When I started this blog in April 2012, it was to be an outlet for me to vent about the impossibilities of motherhood and to track (in real-time) the things that my children were doing, saying, and thinking. It was my way of capturing their childhood in a perspective that photographs just couldn't. 

I would tell funny stories and recount our days together. But the truth is, those days are behind me. I haven't written because there is nothing to write about. "Today, I worked 10 hours, and the children popped in for a moment before they went off with their friends." There is no fun in that.

The things I long to say, the stories I'd like to tell - I can't. They are their own people now and deserving of their privacy. 

My oldest daughter is 17. She will be graduating from high school in 9 months. This was supposed to be a joyful time but the darkness of the pandemic and the things that have happened have permeated everything. It's like a phantom that haunts my house. Invisible but always present. 

My 15-year-old is blossoming into a young woman. She has big dreams and wants to travel the world. I couldn't have asked for a sweeter child. 

My identity used to be as a mother. My days were centered around the children and I truly tried my best to always be there for them. I enjoyed watching them grow up. I was present. It was a beautiful time in my life. 

I am still a mother and will always be, but they need me differently now. It is not my sole identity now. I am not a mother of young children. I am the mother of teenagers on the verge of adulthood. I am finally myself again.

For years I fantasized about having my time back, about being able to do what I want to do. Here it is. I have all the time in the world. I clean my house and it stays clean. I do what I want to do and not worry about what the children need every minute of every day. 

I've been able to pursue my own ambitions. I started my own business and it's gone incredibly well. I am so very blessed. I work 10 hours a day, 6 days a week. I don't mind it at all. I enjoy what I'm doing. It helps take my mind off of the horrors of the past 18 months.

I have grief like you could not imagine. One would think, that me of all people, would handle the losses just fine. After all, I've spent my entire life grieving the things that would never be.... But the pandemic and the things that have ensued have stung so bad and been so difficult that I'm not sure I will ever get to the other side of my grief. Over time, I hope that I can accept it. I'm working on it. 

That being said, I am excited for the future. It is bright. I am young, only 37 and I feel like doors are opening up all around me. My husband and I are making big plans and are happy that the chaos of raising up young children is behind us. It is how it should be. 

My views on motherhood have changed through the years. There were times when I felt it was nothing but joy and times where it has been impossible. I never felt like I was terribly good at it but I gave it a college try. Right now, I think that motherhood is cruel. I've heard it described as the longest breakup ever. How true that is. 

You grow a human being inside of you, nurture them, love them, snuggle them, read to them, teach them to do everything, cook thousands of meals, make sure they have everything they need, watch them struggle, and give advice.....they are the center of your universe. Then you watch them start to walk away from you as they start to forge lives of their own. It is how it should be, but it doesn't make it any less difficult or lessen the sting. 

I don't know what the future holds, but I am excited to see the girls grow into adults. I am ready for my next chapter as I rediscover who I am and make up for the past 17 years of lack-of-alone-time with my husband. And in the end, I realized maybe I am too hard on myself and I don't deserve the bad mom award after all. 

And Now It's Spring

 

It's nearly April. I'm not exactly sure where the time went. It's been busy. I've been working a lot. It's good. Working is the only thing that makes sense to me right now. It is a very linear thing. Wake up in the morning, go to the computer, and complete tasks. I am in control of it and it fills my time. A therapist said to me that sometimes people who work all the time are avoiding something. To which I responded, "You mean my existential dread and the loss of my purpose as a mother now that my kids are older? Well, no shit, Sherlock! Except, I didn't say "No shit, Sherlock!"

There is some sense of normalcy right now. The children are back in school, they are both working, activities have resumed but things are not really normal at all. My youngest participated in the school pageant this past weekend. It was supposed to be in February but it was postponed because 1/2 of the girls were quarantined. She was so disappointed when they canceled it, we didn't hold out hope that it would happen at all, but it did. 

We went out and did all the things- purchased a dress, got her a spray tan, dyed her hair. It reminded me of the years passed with her older sister, who has participated the last 2 years. She wasn't in it this year, life has been challenging for her with the pandemic, but she did get to film it as part of the media crew so it was nice to have them both there.

We walked into the auditorium and tried to find some open seats, many of the rows were taped off for social distancing. It was really strange. This was a place that I'd been so many times and I was surrounded by people that I knew. Parents of the children that my kids have grown up with, but I felt like a stranger. The auditorium should have been filled with students, but it wasn't. I felt like I was in a fever dream, sitting there in the dark, waiting for it to start. If it were six months ago, I may have felt sad, but there is no purpose to feeling sad. 

Then the lights came on and there was my girl, in cowboy boots and a fringe dress, dancing her heart out. I was so happy to see her on stage. Later, she came out in her formal dress and she looked so beautiful. Her hair was curled and her makeup was flawless. My heart burst. She won second runner up for her grade level and she was beaming as she walked to the front to retrieve her trophy and flowers. It was a beautiful moment. I was proud of her. She is growing up.

Life is different now. Sometimes I ask myself, where are my children? My girls are young women now.  I used to be able to look at them and see them as babies, as little girls, but not anymore. Only when I close my eyes, only in my memories. I love my teenagers, but no one tells you how much you miss your kids. The world is calling out to them and you just want them to stay a little bit longer, the hugs to last just a moment more. No one tells you about the sting of having an empty lap. 

Motherhood is like a long goodbye as you prepare to send them off into the world. You can feel it when you pack away the onesies for the last time, and when you take the training wheels off, and replace the board books with novels, when you put them down for the last time and never pick them back up, when you go bra shopping for the first time, the first boyfriend, and all the lasts......

There is a silver lining though, a sense of freedom now that I don't think I've ever had in my whole life. It's neat to watch them grow and turn into real people. It's hard to watch them struggle as they navigate this life. 

I don't even know what I'm trying to say. I don't even know if I'll keep doing this blog anymore. I've become quite boring and it was about being a mom. But I only see my kids for half an hour a day so it's not really my vibe anymore. Maybe Bad Menopause Award, Bad Boss Bitch Award, Bad Middle-Aged Empty Nester Award? 

I have a few years to figure it out I guess. I'm not proofreading this. I'm damn tired.