It’s all up to me, it seems.

Nearly two years after we’d started dating, it has come to an end. The split had taken me by surprise and I’m still trying to pull my heart back together two months later.

It’s taken a toll on me and my moxie, and the Universe seems to know it. Unpacking more boxes this past week, I came across each of these bits of sage advice and hung them on my fridge:

One of the prominent features in your make up is self-reliance and confidence in your ability to accomplish what you undertake; your courage is strong; you do not hesitate to lead. The Mystic Ray advises you not to be impetuous.

You would be wise not to seek too much from others, at this time.

True happiness must come from within.

I guess it is time for me to take a deep breath and realize it will be a solitary life for me–a solo mama who needed a little shove to get her moxie back.

What I Did On Summer Break: Belize

My first grown-up vacation, spent without herding kids or worrying about them at all. Just me and the GuyFriend walking, driving, and biking our way around Belize for two weeks. I couldn’t have asked for a nicer vacation, especially amid the months of unemployment gloom. I’d paid for my flight months before and the Guy made sure it was a real vacation. He’s always the one to be credited for the lovely photos. Thank you. Gracias. Mesi.

We Made It This Far

My son graduated from high school one week ago and I am remain awestruck by the passage of time, the morphing of our family dynamics, the possibilities that lie ahead of him.

So eager to start; September 1999
We all say it: Where did the time go? It doesn’t seem like twelve years since I snapped this photo of him, standing at the ready for his first day of first grade. We were still living with the kids’ father then; I was still married, but just barely. Our trio moved out just two weeks later. But you can’t see the stress of it on his face and that eases my mother-guilt, the worry that resides with me always, telling me that somehow I’m messing the kids up. He seems happy, though. Blissfully unaware that the Saturday after next, he’ll leave his father’s house and never sleep there again. He has no idea that his days with his father will become fewer and further between until the point that it will be weeks, then months and now years between visits. He’s so excited for the adventure of school. There’s no stopping the happy vibe emanating from him. It’s freakin’ adorable.
Continue reading “We Made It This Far”

What is the point?

Since losing most of my blog, it’s set me to thinking about the whole idea of blogging. What is the point?

I’ve been posting bits and baubles about my life, my family’s life, for more than five years (how could it be that long?!), sharing moments that range from our decision to volunteer in Vietnam to our first real road trip as a family to my son’s role as the Moon. And sometimes I pontificate about the more important stuff, like what it means to be a Westerner in a developing country.

But I don’t often write about the ups and downs, struggles and joys of parenting alone.

And so when my blog here disappeared last week, I wondered if there was reason enough to get upset, or to re-start the process. I’ve thought about it and I’ve decided that yes, there is. There are only a few of us blogging who have been solo parenting for more than a decade, but we do exist and it can be done. And I think that’s really my point: it can be done and you can all be happy. It doesn’t actually require two parents to have a happy family. I’m sure it would be nice to have someone to share this all with, but it isn’t a necessity. Really.

Parenting is hard. Mothering can be tiring and overwhelming. But in the end (and I’m painfully close to the quasi end with my son), it’s all worth it.

Pre-teen Trauma Drama

A. had spent the last hour moping around upstairs, sure that her beloved computer game was forever corrupted by her own barely considered and swiftly enacted change of her computer’s resolution. Click. Click. Black. It had happened too quickly for her to back out. Control-Z. Restart. Still black. It was at that point that she’d lost all touch on reality and the wailing started. Like the woman in mourning as her husband burns on the funeral pyre, A. reeled with grief, the tears and strained moans coming haphazardly. She had fallen into the black abyss and her brother came to save her.

Clicking, reconnecting, resetting, searching, coding, restarting and more clicking; S.’s patience was on display as he calmly sought a way to reset A.’s resolution to one that the monitor would recognize, one that would let her play her game again. And finally it worked.

“You just need to turn the monitor on when you want to play,” he told her as he walked past her, sitting chin in hand on the stairs.

She sighed heavy and low then stood to go into the living room.

“It’s not gonna work,” she said to no one. “There’s no way he could fix it.” Click.

And with that click she realized just how magical her brother really is. “OH.” She ran to his room, busting the door open to give him an uncomfortably long hug and a kiss which is almost always refused, but managed to sit stoicly through. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re the best man in the house!”

Being the only man in the house, he wasn’t impressed.

“He’s the best big brother I know,” I shouted down to her.

“Yes! Yes! You’re the best big brother a kid could ever have! What can I do for you? I will do anything! Do you want a snack? A drink? A back massage? I’ll do anything!”

S. sat facing his own computer. “Anything?”

“Yes! Whatever.”

“Okay, then please just go away.”

And with that it was over. A. happily ran back to play and S. was back to being a typical teenage boy.