It’s been a while since I’ve posted. This blog has always been a running blog. Then a divorce blog. Then an oh-my-god how am I going to raise two little boys blog. The last time I posted was for a trail race at the end of March. It is now mid-May, and this may mark the longest streak ever of no posting.
I’m running, sort of. I have a loose race on the calendar, perhaps the San Francisco Half Marathon. I’m working 4-10 hour shifts that start at 6am, so for me to run and train, it’s either late at night when it’s super dark, or at 3am. Neither of these options looks palatable to me. Especially when it is now 95 degrees here in Northern California.
In one week, I will have 2 boys in High School. The oldest is 2 years from leaving the nest altogether…yes, I’m that Mom. You leave. He came to me the other day and said he wanted to go to University of Idaho…and I said…really?? that far? His response: “Mom, you want me to go see the world. I’m gonna go see the world.” I always thought I’d be that Mom that is overdramatically hanging onto my kids, but I’m really all about going. Getting out. Seeing it all. My boys go to a small school in a small Dutch Christian Reformed town, one that values Christian Reformed colleges…and so I said, anywhere but there. Anywhere. The extent of him “breaking the rules”? Telling me he might want to do just that. And I bit my tongue. He’s soccer, basketball, baseball. He’s Scouts and friends and his jeep. The other is all football, all the time. Wants to go to LSU…or Alabama…and what shock I had when he was in the weight room 5 days a week this Spring, getting ready for football. Both of these amazing boys, who were in 1st and 3rd grade when their Dad moved out, and both who have turned into the most amazing young men. I don’t do much for them. I provide. But, they learned how to do laundry (all the way to folding and putting away), dishes, barbecuing, fixing stuff. I gave them hammers, and they did it all. So yeah. I have 4 years until my direct influence is gone. But I will say that they always want to be here. With me. Hanging out. We keep a group text going all the time, even when I erase all texts daily. Not theirs. At night we send funny internet memes to each other from our rooms. They harass me with Dodgers-Giants rivalry love. I have to say that being a Mom, while sometimes daunting, has been easy with teenagers. Because we talk. We talk about hurts and love and loss and tell the truth. Every day.
It is my most important job. I was never the mom who went out on dates after the divorce. I fell in love some 3 years later, and then was alone again. And some days and weekends when I am by myself, I wonder if I will every do anything else with my life except parent these two. And yet, if that’s all it is, it’s very good. It’s important.
The house. Next week, the house goes up for foreclosure. Again. Since 2008, I have fought to keep this house. Three foreclosures on the courthouse steps, and I saved them within hours of the sale. 6 years I have saved it over and over in the nightmare California foreclosure process, and still I’m here. In 10 days, I believe the death knell will finally fall. My pool pump broke yesterday. I’m fixing it. Because I’ve loved this house, and I have been very lucky. But those who know me, know that perseverance is my number one quality. Sometimes it’s a good thing. Like the house. Sometimes it’s hard to step back and stop persisting, like in matters of love and relationships. In any event. 6 years. Here in this place…the duct tape house. My kids fix it when it breaks, and Chet is here watching it all.
My job. My most amazing job. God plucked me off that mountain on the way to Mariposa a year ago, and gave me the most perfect job for me. All day, I get to do what I love…and couple it with the passion of my life and my sobriety.
I want to especially point out that I could have done nothing without the people in my life who cried with me, lifted me up, laughed with me and drug me out of the house in my loneliness. I want to thank the Dodgers for giving me a cheap form of entertainment when I couldn’t do one more movie and dinner. And Chet. Where would I be without him? And I suppose all of his antics, his coming home in a cop car, his desperate pleas to always be by my side, his snoring. I suppose my life is important to him as well. Not too long ago, I was crying. And the moment I started, he was there, his brown head in my lap. Loving me.
A few years ago, the big saying was, “It is what it is.” As an English teacher, that phrase would just make me cringe for the mere purpose of it’s annoyance. The new saying is “I’m so blessed.” “I’m blessed.” As if to say that look at me I am so lucky and so blessed…by God I assume…as if you did something to get’s God favor, or not, and you have now been …blessed. It’s annoying. Work with me here. I’m not blessed. I’m fortunate that I was raised by the people who taught me that in a pond of alligators, you should probably shoot the closest one first. I’m fortunate to have found an amazing therapist who lets me sleep at times, with all my ADHD-ness. I have a sponsor that is so patient with me when I’ve again decided to do it my way. I’ve been given gifts. “Blessed” with people and principles. But all of this is moot if I do not pick up the hammer and do the work.
I did the work. You stood and worked and sweat there beside me. God’s grace was on me. I called the Governor. I lined up the people. So it’s part me, and part you and part God. It’s timing. It’s everything.
My Mom told me when I first got a divorce that I should never leave this house without lipstick. My dad told me to stand up, and keep moving. My drink is coffee. All day. And yes, this life…well, it is working out perfectly, and though I get scared, I’m more excited to see what’s up around the next corner.
It’s not likely, but maybe I’ll even do a marathon again.