The Dining Room Table

It has been two long months since I have last had the time to sit down and purge my feelings out on the keyboard of my computer. Life planted its feet in my path and would not get out of the way long enough for me to find one moment of peace for myself...and when I say "life", you should know by now that that actually means school. But I am happy to say that my semester is finally complete and here I am, still standing. My children have said to me more than once in the past week that they are happy that I am done with school now so that I can get off the computer and play with them. It makes me sad the way my children miss me, even though I am right here. It is bad enough that I watch them miss their father every day, but to miss me when I am in the same room... I just keep telling myself, "this too shall pass". So I have waited for an opportunity to write when it would not take away from my time with the kids because even though I have been feeling a desperate need to write, my children's need for time with their mother was more important.

This lack of time, this busyness, and sometimes chaos, now seem to be what symbolize my life. It is what my life has become. Always running around, putting out fires, and trying to find the time to get everything done that needs to be done while, at the same time, trying to continue to do the things that I want to do as a mother. I will be glad when this part of my life is over and I can start to move forward again. Right now, I feel like I have just come to another dead end and I am waiting for...well, I am not sure what I am waiting for. I guess I am just trying to figure out what road I should take next. Hopefully I can find a road that will bring me some peace, because more and more I am feeling a need for it.

Something else that symbolizes my life...my dining room table. You know, you can tell a lot about a person by their dining room or kitchen table. Is it big? Is it small? Is it piled to the ceiling with papers and other things? Is it trimmed beautifully with an elegant centerpiece, place settings, and fine china? Is it simple, decorated only by a small centerpiece? And then at dinnertime, is it empty or full? My dining room table is one of the very few quality pieces of furniture that my husband and I chose to spend what little money we had on. I love it...or I did once. It is a large table that can be made even larger with the built-in leaf. We bought it with our family and friends in mind. We thought of the Thanksgivings and Christmases in the years to come that would be spent at this table and knew that it was perfect for us. At dinnertime, we would shut off the TV and gather our family around the table. The room was filled with laughter and conversation, me sitting at one end of the table and him at the other with our three small children in between. Every day I felt like I was giving a gift to my family. I looked forward to planning and preparing our meals so that we could spend that time together.

A few weeks ago, as the kids and I were eating our dinner around the coffee table in the living room in front of the TV, one of them asked me why we don't ever eat at the table anymore. This was followed by the other two chiming in with the same question and all three of them telling me how they miss eating at the dining room table. After dinner I got the kids tucked into bed, came back downstairs to my dining room table, and cried. I sat there, reflecting on the dinners that I have shared with the kids since their father left. After he left, I gradually lost that joy that I got from planning and preparing meals. This mostly had to do with the fact that my kids wouldn't eat half of the stuff I prepared and now there was no one there to eat it with me. Dinnertime became more of a frustration for me, trying to get the kids to eat was a battle every night. And then there was the empty chair. Every night a reminder; a slap in the face. It quickly became less painful for me to throw together something that I knew the kids would eat and drop it down on the coffee table. But the saddest part is that there are some days that I don't even eat with them. I use it as my break or my chance to get a few things done before I have to put them to bed. I am embarrassed to admit this and can't tell you how sad it makes me. But still, I cannot seem to bring myself to sit at the dining room table.

My dining room table is beautiful, but it is empty and lonely. It is simply set, with nothing more than a small centerpiece in the middle, just as it was when my husband left. My family is broken now and I can't change that, but I think I owe it to my children to sit back down in my chair. Consider this my first New Year's resolution.

TUTUS!!!!

I have been so busy. Over the past month, my PTA duties have kicked into full gear and now school has finally caught up with me, which I knew that it would, and I have been trying to keep up with all of the different assignments. More and more, I feel like the information of value that I am getting from these graduate courses is at a minimum. For the most part they are just a lot of busy work. Yes, there are a few exceptions to this statement but for the most part, that is just the way it is. Between school and the other frustrations in my life (yes, I am still struggling with that), I have just felt like I am in this terrible funk that I can't seem to pull myself out of. I am stressed, tired all the time, and probably pretty miserable to be around. I realize that I have not had a lot of time for myself lately and certainly haven't had any time to do something fun for me, which probably has a lot to do with my current mood. So I decided that maybe I needed to get my creative juices flowing and do something that I could have fun doing. In an ideal world, I would have all kinds of time and money available to do the crafty and creative things that I really enjoy doing, but the reality is that my scrapbooking room has been collecting dust for the past year and a half. It's depressing.

The girls informed me about a month ago that they wanted to be bumble bees for Halloween and so, with the thought of trying to save some money, I started looking online for costume ideas. Low and behold, I stumbled across a super cute picture of a little girl in a tutu and dressed as a bumble bee. Having seen some handmade tutus recently, I immediately thought this might be something that I could actually do...and boy, was I right!!! I have had so much fun figuring out how to make these tutus and accessorize them and now have tons more ideas for future tutus. This has been a great release for me and the best part is, the girls LOVE them!

My Sweet Girl

If I have said it once, I have said it a million times. My kids have NOT handled this divorce well. I don't think that there is ever anything that could have possibly prepared them for what our life has become, just as nothing could have prepared me. And although I do everything I possibly can to make all of this easier for them, it just seems that it will never be enough. So, everyday I worry. I think about how all of this will affect each of them as they grow into adulthood. I wonder about the things that I might be doing wrong. I see them struggling and I ask myself when this will ever get better.

When Camille was born, she gave me the most wonderful gift that I have ever received. Something that I had ached for since having Quentin a year and a half before. You see, after all of the waiting during my labor with Quentin, my doctor inevitably decided that the best thing to do was to have a cesarean section. At that moment, everything was happening so fast that all we cared about was making sure our baby was okay. I never had time to think about what was about to happen. A mother spends nine months nurturing and loving this baby inside of her, preparing for childbirth and all of the wonderful emotions that go along with it. In an instant that was all taken away and once it was over, I was sad. I wasn't the first person to hold my baby. I didn't get to spend his first moments bonding with him. I wasn't even there when my family met my first born child; their first grandchild and nephew. Everyone was there but me. But on that cold and snowy day in March (that's New York for you), Camille came into our lives with complete grace and my birth experience exceeded my expectations. It was the most intimate of experiences with only my husband, mom, doctor and nurse in the room. The room was quiet and dark, with only a small light for the doctor to see, and within five minutes Camille was born. She was instantly placed on my chest and before they took her away to get her all cleaned up, the doctor and nurse left the room to give us some time alone. It was so special and I will never forget that gift that she gave me. I will never forget laying in that dark and quiet room, holding my baby girl for the first time.

Camille was talked about throughout the hospital as "the baby with the hair". The girl was born with a full head of it...so much that it really looked almost like a toupee. Nurses would come by my room just to see her. She was as beautiful then as she is now. I love telling Camille these stories now because she is a shy little girl who seems to be somewhat insecure about herself, but when I tell her about the day she was born her whole face lights up. And when I tell her about how everyone came to see the prettiest baby in the hospital, she giggles. I love Camille's giggle and the way that she scrunches her nose up when she does it.

Unfortunately, Camille doesn't giggle as much as she used to anymore. Over the past couple of months I have noticed her giggle fading away. She has always been an extremely emotional child and for that reason alone I have worried about the effects that her father leaving would have on her. Temper tantrums, hitting, and crying were things that Camille did very well as a toddler. But now it's different. Camille cries. She cries about everything (or at least that's what it feels like these days)and she has started to withdraw at home. I have noticed her laying around the house more, sometimes on the couch or sometimes even going up to her room and just laying in her bed. There are other things too, details that I won't completely go into, but definite causes for concern. So I worry...more. On top of that, I get angry. What has my ex done to our baby girl? I just want her to be better. I want her to be happy. I want her to giggle.

It's an overwhelming thought, the idea that my ability or inability to handle these problems now will undoubtedly mold Camille into the woman that she will become and effect future relationships that she will have in her life. I can't screw this up! So we have started our journey to wellness. The first stop was the family physician, where we checked everything out to make sure that there were no medical causes for the problems that she is having. The physician sent us on for an xray and then also referred us to a GI doctor in Kansas City (I guess I should mention that she has been having accidents). Along with this, she also referred us to a psychologist. So far we haven't found anything major. The doctor's office found nothing unusual in her blood work, but the xray did show that she is completely backed up. It does feel good to have a little something to go on I guess. So now we will wait for the rest of these appointments and in the meantime I will continue my search for a good therapist for her. This is going to be a real journey, but if it ends in a happy place and helps my sweet girl get her giggle back then you will not hear me complain.

There's that giggle...

She's always marched to the beat of her own drummer...

And if I ever get her to stop sucking her fingers, it will be a miracle...

Deep Breaths...

I am frustrated...and living a life of frustration is exhausting. Add to that the fact that I have been feeling overwhelmed...this is exhausting too. Bottom line, I guess, would be that I am exhausted. Yep, I would say that that pretty accurately sums it all up for me.

So, why am I frustrated? Well, I would have blogged about it sooner, but I just haven't even had the time to sit and blog...frustrating!! There are so many things that I have been feeling frustrated about over the past month. Things just don't seem to be going my way and that frustrates me. I am a planner; if I don't have a plan, then I feel like I don't have control. And these days, I feel this serious need to be in control. I think that comes from everything that has happened over the past couple of years. I gave up some of that control and I got screwed, so now I am all about being in complete control. The problem is, when you are trying to get your life back on track, control can be a hard thing to come by. So I spent a lot of time over the summer trying to put a new plan in place for my family. A fresh start for us feels both necessary and terrifying all at once, but mostly necessary. By the end of the summer I was feeling pretty good about the plan that I had come up with but by the beginning of September the plan started to fall apart...frustrating. It frustrates me that I have this idea about what is best for my family and I can't do anything about it. The bottom line is, I don't want to live here anymore. I love my home, I love my friends, and I love having my family close, but I just don't want to be here anymore. I hate the stress that my ex puts on us and with all of the disappointments that the kids had to deal with over the summer, I know that that was just the beginning of what is to come.

This brings me to feeling overwhelmed. Oh my poor babies. It is just a constant struggle around here for them. Just when I think that maybe we are finding ourselves on solid ground, one of them proves me wrong. It is a vicious cycle. I think my ex is actually finally starting to believe me when I say that they are not okay, but I really have no time for his concern. After all, we wouldn't even be having these problems if it wasn't for him! My children are so broken and I just can't fix them. Trying to deal with these behaviors that surface in an understanding, patient, and compassionate way is hard and I see so many problems...it's overwhelming. And, have I complained about school yet?? Well, I think we all know how I feel about that. School actually isn't too bad right now, but I am sure that won't last. I will be overwhelmed with that too before I know it. I know that sounds very pessimistic of me, but...whatever. Sometimes that is just life, right??

Don't get me wrong, things aren't ALL bad. In between all of this rotten stuff, we have managed to find some fun.
We've been to the zoo...

Camping and fishing...

And apple picking...


I see these pictures and I am so grateful for the time that I have to share with my kids and the experiences that I am able to give them. I do know that things will get better. It just might take some time, maybe even more than I would like. In the meantime, I will just continue to take these deep breaths...

Sick and Single

I had been planning for this weekend throughout the week. School started again for me on Monday, but the first week turned out to be just a lot of introductory stuff and no major assignments to do. The hard work is yet to come...I am sure of it. So between that, my ex taking the kids for the weekend, and a forecast of picture perfect fall-like weather, I decided that this would be a great weekend for me to get underway with phase two of my backyard landscaping. I figured that I could get started with my work on Friday, with just Zoe at home, and then get everything done that I needed to before the kids returned on Monday.

Now, phase two is no simple task. This phase consists of some major weed removal, stone and boulder removal, removing and re-setting a stone staircase, and lots of shoveling. All of this so that I can move onto phase three, my favorite phase, planting! To backtrack a little, let me explain...when we first moved into this house five years ago, one of the projects that I gladly took on was the landscaping. Off the back of the house was a hill with a set of stone steps to the side, leading down to the flat part of the yard. The hill was completely overgrown with all sorts of weeds. It was obvious that there had been some sort of garden there before, but everything was so overgrown that it was impossible to see what was supposed to be there and what wasn't. I decided then that I would dig out everything on that hill and start over with a brand new garden. This became much more of a task than I could have ever imagined and I really could have never completed it without the help of my sister and mom. As we began digging out the hill, we began uncovering boulder after boulder. Not only did we uncover boulders throughout the hill, but we also found a stone path at the bottom of the hill. Once completed, I loved my back hill. It did not take me long, however, to see what had happened to the original hillside garden...erosion. As much as I tried, I could not completely stop some of the hill from washing away. So my strategy over the years has been to maintain as much of the garden as possible until I could really do what I needed to do to save the garden. Finally, this spring I was able to have a retaining wall put in across the top of the garden and I am hoping that is all it will take to reclaim my hill. I was so excited to see that wall go in, but at the same time, I suddenly realized how much more work this was going to mean for me. Adding the wall added a good couple of feet of garden all the way across the top of the hill...among other things. Let the work begin!

This brings me back to this weekend. Thursday night, the night before the kids are supposed to leave to go to their Dad's for the weekend, I get sick. I mean SICK, like I don't even know how I made it up the steps. Like I spent a portion of the night sleeping on the toilet, sick. And as I lay there on the toilet, the room spinning as though I had just gotten off that amusement park ride where it spins so fast that you stick to the wall while the floor drops out from under you, I again found myself realizing what it means to be alone. As I laid there, unable to move because I got sick every time I even raised my head, I felt so helpless that I could do nothing else but cry. I just wanted some water and had no way to get it. No one to call for. Would it be wrong for me to wake Camille up? If I laid there long enough, would one of the kids get up to use the restroom and then help me? Could I make it to the bath tub and get a drink there? In the end, that is what I did and do you know how nasty water tastes coming out of the bath tub?!?!

The next morning, when the kids discovered that I was sick, they were all very concerned about me. I often think it is interesting to observe the different ways that my kids respond to different situations. I remember a conversation I shared with my mom about how funny it was for her to watch each of us girls as parents because she could see some of the mannerisms that we showed as children now as parents. For example, when my sisters were babies, I would want to hold them and even if they were screaming and crying, I would just sit there and hold them. Completely unfazed by the screaming and crying. Twenty-five years later as a parent, I was the same way with my own children. Very laid back and relatively unfazed by the screaming and crying. Each one of us was different as children and, likewise, different as mothers. Since that conversation with my mom, I often find myself observing the mannerisms of my kids and wondering if they will carry over for them into their adulthood. Case in point...as I lay sick and unable to move on the couch, Zoe says to her brother and sister more than once that she is really worried because Mommy is sick and later proceeds to put a movie in and curl up with me on the couch. She doesn't leave my side all morning, watching more than one movie and occasionally asking me if I am okay. Camille, on the other hand, starts out the morning by bringing me a stuffed animal and telling me that her puppy wants to lay with me. Later, when she comes home from school, she asks me if I am still sick and then proceeds to get her papers out of her backpack for me and explains to me that she will just hold the papers up for me because she doesn't want to hand them to me and get my sick germs...wow. She then leaves the room, only coming back occasionally to set get well cards on the coffee table in front of me that she is busy drawing in the other room (as to not get my sick germs, I'm sure). Quentin, the typical guy, after asking about my symptoms he is off doing his own thing. Eager to help when asked, but otherwise not to be bothered by the whole thing. Only time will tell I guess, but I am interested to see how these behaviors will carry over as they grow older.

Anyway, I spent the next 24 hours being sick. Not exactly how I had planned to spend my weekend. By Saturday morning I still was not feeling well, but I was determined to get my hill done. I went out and actually did quite a bit of work before I decided I needed to just lay down again and that was my weekend, gardening and laying down. I still am not feeling 100%, but I do feel good about all that I was able to accomplish on my hill.

Here are some "before" pictures of my hill after my retaining wall was put in:

The first time we did the hill, we put these stone-stacked steps in as an ending point to the garden. Now they just look awkward with the wall right there.


LOTS of weeding to do...this is the side of the garden that had the most erosion.


This is actually a great illustration of just how much erosion has occured, as the new wall is pretty close to where the garden originally started. The stones at the bottom of the picture show where the garden now starts. This new wall actually sits a few feet underground.

Will It Ever End??

So since our return from what my kids like to refer to as "the longest vacation ever", we have been quite busy. This is my feeble attempt at excusing my lack of writing...is it working?? But in all seriousness, I just haven't had the time.

To begin with, our return from vacation left us with less than a week of summer before the kids would return to school. Our favorite summer activity this year was spending the day at the local water park. With school starting, the water park would close and so my mission for the five days that remained was simple. Go to the water park every day...no matter what and no matter how long. We had a pool pass to use up and I was determined to do so! In addition to spending our days at the water park, we also had lots of other things to get done. We returned to a house with no food and also still needed to go get all of Quentin and Camille's school supplies. Between all of these things, well, that whole week is pretty much a blur.

Add to all of this, transition. Something that my kids have never really been very good at. Trying to get them back into a reasonable schedule for school is not an easy task, it never has been. Camille definitely struggles the most with it, but overall it is just hard on all three of them. This year, Quentin started 3rd grade and Camille started 1st...can that be right?? Man, they are just growing up so fast! So far, they are both very happy with school. They have always enjoyed school and I hope that is something that will never change. School actually seems to have become the constant in their life that grounds them when everything else in life is too much to handle. I really hate that because I so badly want that constant to be me, but with the turn that our life has taken, I have accepted it. And really, there are worse things...right? My time will come, but right now I think that they associate me with some of the bad stuff that has happened to them and so I can't be that constant. Not that they ONLY associate me with the bad stuff, but I am a part of it.

Bad stuff, oh yes, the bad stuff. That stuff that never seems to go away...all of the drama. I am so sick of it! So, another thing that has always made this time of year difficult for my kids is the fact that it marks the beginning of the football season. For them, this means the disappearance of their father. This is not something that they handle very well. Each year I think that it will get a little easier, but it never really does. In fact, since He left, it actually seems to have gotten worse. Last year was the first summer that He was gone and although he didn't see them much, he did manage to make time for them here and there during training camp. Some days he might pick them up for a quick lunch and other days he might have a couple of free hours that he would spend with them. This year, however, they didn't see Him at all. In fact, between the first of the month when we left for our vacation and the 23rd, the kids saw their dad ONE time. That was when he came to walk them to school for their first day. Once, that's it. For me this was a nice break, but it also meant a constant fielding of the "when will I see my daddy" questions...to which I have no answer. When we were married and the kids had these questions, I always had an answer for them. I was very good at making excuses for Him and making them think that it was okay for their daddy to be gone all the time. But I am not his wife anymore and that is not my responsibility. So I did not talk to Him during this time and I decided that this is something that he will need to figure out on his own and if he fails, then so be it. This all came to an end, however, after Quentin came to me one night with a letter. A letter to me with instructions telling me to read and practice the words that he had written before the next time that they saw their dad. According to this letter, I was supposed to ask my ex to marry me again and then proceed to kiss him and hug him. What ensued after the reading of my letter very much resembled that night that I remember so well when I first told Quentin and the girls that their dad was not going to live with us anymore. There were a lot of questions, a lot of begging, a lot of explaining, and a lot of crying. I was totally caught off guard and I knew that this would also mean that I was going to have to finally say something to Him about his absence. And what did this mean for me? Yep, more drama.

The following day we had a conversation. Not a friendly one, but effective none the less. Sometimes people just need to be told when they are failing miserably at something, even though it isn't what they want to hear. I left the conversation feeling very satisfied. I just can't speak enough to the importance of speaking your mind and standing up for yourself. The feeling of empowerment that that gives me is part of what gets me through all of this mess. But still I wonder, will it ever end? Will there ever come a day when we can live a "normal" life without all of this drama? I certainly hope so. I long for that day and rely on the belief that it will come to get me through.

Some Water Park Fun...



Quentin and Camille's First Day of School...

We Are Family

Well, it has been a total whirlwind since we arrived home from our vacation. I have been wanting to blog, but just have not been able to find the time. And by the time I do, I can't find the energy. It is enough to make me wish that we were still on vacation!!

Since returning from our trip, I have found myself doing a lot of reflecting. Thinking about family and its many meanings. What a family looks like and what makes a family a family. There are many definitions for the word and not one of them is similar in any way, but when it comes down to it, I guess that is the best thing about family. A family has no boundaries and cannot be easily defined by a bloodline. I feel blessed that my kids had the opportunity to see this first-hand during our vacation and, more than that, they recognized it.

My kids have always been very aware of different skin colors. I don't know if this is normal for children who grow up in a bi-racial family, but it has always been normal for us. Daddy is dark brown and they are light brown and Mommy is white. Because this is something that they have always seemed intrigued by, I have embraced it and have always tried to use it as a teaching tool. So, it was no surprise to me when the kids pointed out, more than once, that I didn't "fit in" while we were in Louisiana. These moments made for great conversations between us and by the end of our time in Louisiana, the kids began pointing out moments that we shared that made them feel like we were a part of the family instead. The family that we now affectionately refer to as our "Louisiana Family". By the end of our vacation, the kids were explaining to me the fact that skin color has nothing to do with being a family. They could actually SEE the love that this family had for us, making them feel like we belonged regardless of our differences and the fact that we aren't even related. I loved watching this evolution of understanding for them.

When all was said and done, our vacation was a complete success. I couldn't have asked for more. The kids did great in the car throughout our combined 30 hours of driving, which means that the fighting was kept to a minimum and so was my yelling (yes, I am a yeller). This trip was exactly what we needed. A break from the norm and time for us to connect as a family. I think it is safe to say that a good time was had by all of us. We had fun, were surrounded by family, and learned a little along the way. So what is a family? A family is love.

"The love of a family is life's greatest blessing."-anonymous

___Quentin begins his NFL stadium tour at Cowboy's Stadium__

_____________Fort Worth Texas Stockyards_____________

_______Stadium Stop #2...The Superdome in New Orleans_____

_______________New Orleans with the Family____________

___________________Jackie and the Kids________________

VACATION!!!!!

I did it. I took what I believe is one of the biggest challenges for a single parent of multiple children and I have conquered it...well, so far. Vacation. I mean a real vacation. A pack your bags and drive across the country in a car with no DVD player kind of vacation.

I have been looking forward for this vacation for months now and as the time grew closer, my vacation grew too. It started off as a single destination trip, but is ending up with multiple destinations. In fact, we are still on vacation right now. I was looking forward to this trip for a number of reasons. Of course, there was the obvious opportunity to get away from life, which is what most vacations are. I was also very excited to be able to see friends that I hadn't seen in years. But mostly for me it was a challenge and a chance to prove that I could do something like this by myself with the kids. Not that I really felt like I had anyone to prove it to, just myself. That changed though, as our vacation drew near and my ex caught wind of our impending vacation. I hadn't shared with him any information about the trip that I was planning. Especially with the turn of events over the summer, I didn't feel like I should have to share the details of our life with him or get his permission, and I really didn't want him to have the privilege of knowing. But, of course the kids were excited and the news got out. When he finally said something to me about it, he asked me why I was taking this trip by myself. This infuriated me and the response that I gave him, I should not repeat. I felt like he was questioning my parenting and was implying that this was something that I was not capable of doing by myself. More than anything, it was the tone in which he asked the question. So, now I did have something to prove.

So let me tell you briefly about our trip. We left on Monday and headed south for Arlington, Texas. We enjoyed an uneventful 9 hour drive in the car in which we only stopped to use the bathroom and the kids did GREAT! I was very pleasantly surprised, especially since I was prepared for the worst. In Arlington, we stayed with one of my old roommates and best friends from college. It was wonderful to see her and her family and to be able to spend a few days there. She was a great hostess and kept the kids just busy enough that they were entertained. I would have been happy just sitting and visiting at home. Pictures will follow in a few days with more details of our adventure. Thursday morning, we left Arlington and headed off to our second destination, Baton Rouge, Louisianna. This is where I am now. Here, we are visiting the family of my ex-boyfriend from high school. I know that sounds strange, but I have always remained close with his family. This is one of those trips that I could have never made while married to my husband...talk about awkward. Even though I know they would have welcomed him because of the love that they have for me, he would have never wanted to come. So, now we are going to bask in the love of my Louisianna family for several days.

That's it in a nutshell. So now, as I type this, I am watching my children sleep off some of the exhaustion that they have incurred over the past week. Wonderful exhaustion. It is so great to see them getting an escape from the reality of their lives, as I am all too aware that it is not just me that has to deal with everything. It is OUR struggle, not mine. Right now they are happy, excited to see what comes next, and exhausted. Sure signs of success. Yes, I did it!

My Little Man

Handsome
Funny
Smart
Sensitive
Stubborn
Athletic
Musically Gifted

Off the top of my head, these are the words that I would use to describe Quentin. He came into this world just over eight years ago. My husband and I had been married less than a year and were both terrified and thrilled to be having a baby. With Quentin, we went the old-fashioned route and chose not to find out what we were having. Those were exciting and happy times...even according to my now ex-husband. Quentin's arrival came with a lot of drama and excitement, which makes for a great story to share with Quentin. I tell him that he loved his mama so much that he didn't want to leave her, so the doctor had to go in and make him come out. He was a Mama's Boy then and he is a Mama's boy now. Some things just never change.

Quentin was a good baby that soon grew into an equally good toddler and has continued to grow in to a good boy. If you ask him what he likes, his answer will be simple...football. As I mentioned before, Quentin has always been a Mama's Boy. But if there was ever one person who he looked up to and admired, it was his Dad. The line between football and his Dad has never been clear to me. I mean, does he love football because of his Dad or does he admire his Dad because of football? Looking in retrospect, I see now that our family was never my ex's number one priority. First was His job as a football coach and then came His family. Back then, I just believed that that was the life of a coach and I accepted that and made the most of it. Now I see that that wasn't how it had to be. Now I see all of the time that could have been spent with us that was not. I have always seen Quentin longing for time with his Father. When we were married, I did everything that I could to facilitate that relationship. I created time for them to be together and made Him a better parent because of it. And whatever I was doing worked. Quentin valued his time with his Dad and was happy with whatever time he got. In his eyes, his Dad could do no wrong and that was just how I liked it.

My most vivid memory of Quentin came about a year and a half ago. It is not of his first steps or his first words or any of those other monumental milestones that us mothers meticulously keep a record of. I remember the night that I told Quentin that his Dad and I were not going to be married anymore and that He was not going to live with us anymore. Although I don't remember the exact date, I remember it like it was yesterday. Probably because it was such a traumatic experience. And why wouldn't it be? I alone, sat down with my children and completely shattered the safe and secure life that they knew. I held their hearts in my hands and broke them with my words. Each child had their own response to the words that I used, but Quentin's response will stay with me forever. He understood everything that I was saying. There was no sugar-coating it for him. Quentin has always been wise beyond his years. He has an old soul and when I say that he is sensitive, I don't mean that he cries a lot, I mean to say that he is very intuitive and sensitive to the feelings of others. He has a great capacity for empathy and I think that is one of the best qualities that a person can possess. But it was that quality that made my words hurt him more. The look on Quentin's face pierced my soul, and while the others quickly began throwing their arsenal of questions at me, he just sat there in silence. When I asked him if he had any questions for me, he simply looked at me with his big brown watery eyes and shook his head.

It wasn't long after that that my sister showed up with her daughter. We had planned for them to come that evening, in the hopes that it would be a good distraction for the kids and it would allow us to get out of the house and do something fun if we needed to. But by the time she got there, the kids seemed to have recovered well from our conversation and so we decided to just fix dinner and stay in. As we sat down to dinner, the room filled with conversation and I remember feeling a sense of relief that we seemed to have made it through "the talk" relatively unscathed. However, that feeling didn't last and it didn't take long to notice that Quentin wasn't talking or eating. When we asked him what was wrong he said he just wasn't hungry, but I could see that he was upset and so I took him into another room to talk. That's when the gates opened up. Quentin began to cry, to sob really. You know that gut-wrenching cry that comes from the deepest part of your being? I never knew that such a cry could come from such a small child. Together, Quentin and I sat on the couch and wept for I don't know how long. No words were spoken, there were only tears. And when it was clear that the crying wouldn't stop, I took Quentin upstairs. He cried that he wanted his Dad and so we called him and I remember him crying on the phone, asking his Dad why he didn't want to live with us anymore. Then I remember hearing his Dad tell him that he needed to stop crying and that he was going to need to be strong for me...end of conversation. Quentin continued to cry and I sent him into my room. A brief and not-so-friendly conversation ensued. Don't cry? Be strong for your Mom? No. Not acceptable. No six year-old boy should be responsible for the well-being of their parent and no child of mine will ever be told that they can't cry. I went back to my weeping child and assured him that it was not his job to be strong for me and that it was okay to cry. We laid there in the dark, me holding my precious boy just as I had when he was a baby. I held him as he cried himself to sleep and even then, he continued to cry and it was then that I wept. With Quentin in my arms, his body still shaking, I too cried myself to sleep.

I write about Quentin now because over the past couple of months I have watched a war wage within him and it consumes me with worry. Events of the summer seem to have caused Quentin to look at his Dad differently. No, lets be honest here, his Father's actions over the summer have caused him to look at Him differently. He is a smart kid and as he gets older, I can see that he is seeing things that he maybe didn't see before. He is putting the pieces together when it comes to the end of our marriage and I think it is safe to say that his Dad no longer has a place on that pedestal that Quentin used to put him on. This makes me sad because I think that every boy deserves to have a Daddy that they can look up to and that was what I always wanted for Quentin. I can see that it makes Quentin sad too. I have even watched him lash out at me because of it. Just another perk of being the single parent I guess. Quentin deserves so much more than the disappointment that he is becoming accustomed to, so I am making that my goal. To remove the constant disappointment from his young life...but more on that later.

.........................................Mama's Boy...........................................

Q has been drumming since he was 2 and now wants to play guitar

.................................He is definitely a thinker...............................

...........The best big brother, so protective of his little sisters..........

The Life and Times (or Lack Thereof)...

Have I mentioned that I hate school?? It has been a month since I last posted. A month full of blog-worthy events that I would have loved to write about. Events that are now sitting on the shelves of my mind in the hopes that they will be written about eventually. But instead of blogging, I was studying and doing homework. For someone who hates school anyway, I think I maybe over did it this summer. I don't know what I was thinking taking three classes. I suppose it was just the visionary in me, knowing that I will be glad when it is all over. But in the meantime, I have spent the past month going insane! When I have had the opportunities to actually communicate with the outside world, this is often what I hear:

"You look tired." To which I respond, "I am."
"You sound tired." To which I respond, "I am."
"How's your summer?" To which I respond, "Is it summer yet?"

Thankfully, I have now completed two of my three summer classes. The hardest part is over and I am finally seeing a light at the end of this tunnel. Time to enjoy what little bit of the summer is left with the kids AND get back to writing! Stay tuned...

Lessons In Single Parenting...Self-Restraint

So there are a lot of learning curves that I have gone through in the the past couple of years, as I have transitioned into the role of the single parent. There are many unique challenges that come with watching the father of your children walk away from his family while he moves onto bigger and better things (or so he thinks). The thing is that while I see it for what it is, I don't think the kids do, and my goal has been to keep it that way for as long as possible. This in itself is becoming more and more difficult and I really don't know how long I will be able to continue. You see, I am a mama bear. Mess with my babies and you mess with me. So what do you do when the one messing with your babies is their own father??

Rule number one in single parenting has to be self-restraint. This includes keeping your mouth shut when all you want to do is tell your kids what you really think of Daddy's friend. It means not telling the kids what you really think of the Daddy that they cry for whenever they are upset. Sometimes it even means being nice to your ex when all you really want to do is beat the crap out of him (sorry, I'm just being honest). Fortunately, for the most part, I have found self-restraint to be something that I am really good at. I say for the most part because I think everyone must have those moments when you just can't take it anymore and you have to get that one dig in, and I have had a few of those moments.

One of the hard things about this self-restraint thing for me is that I feel like I am being dishonest with my kids. It is a fine line that I walk between doing the right thing and lying. I mean, what am I supposed to say when the kids ask me why me and Daddy aren't going to get married again? Or, do I know Daddy's friend and am I friends with her too? It is easy to give the honest answer initially, but anyone who knows kids knows that it never stops with that one question. And let's face it, my follow up answers are just not meant for children's ears! All I can do is hope that I am right; that I am doing the right thing and when the kids are old enough to understand, they will appreciate the way that I have handled everything. I hope that I am right.

Another hard thing about self-restraint for me is maintaining the ability to stand up for myself. In the beginning, I thought that self-restraint meant being quiet and keeping the peace. Avoiding confrontations. However, I have come to realize that I was wrong. Avoiding confrontations doesn't do anyone any favors. It is actually a disservice to not only me, but my kids too. As a college student studying to be a special education teacher, I spent a lot of time learning about the importance of the parent's role as an advocate for their child. I figured it was only common sense that a parent would look out for the best interest of their child. The thing is, if you are lucky as a parent then you don't have to play the advocate role very often, needing to actually fight for what is in the best interest of your child. But not all of us are that lucky and lately I feel like that is all I do, which can make for a lot of confrontations.

Today will be no different. I went to bed last night knowing that when I woke up, there would be an inevitable confrontation (which will require a lot of self-restraint) and as frustrating at it may be, I know it is what is best. My kids are worth it. Hopefully, the need for me to practice the art of self-restraint, and all that it implies, will gradually diminish. Until then, I will gladly maintain my role as Mama Bear.
_____________________Mama's Cubs____________________

Quiet Nights

My kids have never been good sleepers. Bedtime around here has always been a chore, no matter what I tried. When Quentin was a toddler we actually resorted to locking him in his room because even after three hours, he was still coming out of his room and not going to sleep. Camille still likes to get out of bed over and over again in the middle of the night, trying to sneak into my bed, and Zoe does all of the above. This has always been exhausting, but even more so now that I have been left to fight the battles alone. So when I have nights to myself, as I do tonight, I almost don't know what to do. The peace and quiet is something that I have come to both savor and resent.

I think that any single parent that you meet would tell you that while they love their children, they love the times that they are able to get a break from them just as much. I didn't really understand this when I was married. Back then, I very rarely got any kind of break and if I did, it was something as simple as a trip alone to the grocery store and that was enough for me. I couldn't understand why anyone would need an entire weekend, like many single parents get. But now I do. The difference? Companionship. It is amazing what a difference a partner makes. Having someone to share the funny moments, the not-so-funny moments, and even the exhausting moments with. I think these are the things that most parents take for granted; I know I did.

So while I enjoy getting a full night of uninterrupted sleep, the quiet evenings are stark reminders of just how lonely I am. Is this really what my life has come to? Is this what the future holds for me? Nights spent at home alone, watching movies, eating my meal for one and talking to myself (that's right, I said it, I talk to myself). I certainly hope not. I didn't get to this point in my life so that I could spend it alone. I don't want to be alone. I want someone to share these quiet nights with me. All of my well-intentioned friends and family assure me that I won't always be alone but, to be honest, that is pretty hard to imagine at this point in my life. All I can say is, "I hope they're right". Otherwise, I might have to get a dog!!

Milestones and Memories

Sometimes in the fast pace of life, we forget to stop and take notice of the milestones in our lives. It is easy to get wrapped up in our busy schedules and whatever drama might be going on and forget what our priorities really are. I am fully aware that I am guilty of this. I get consumed in the drama that is my life and all of the school work that goes with it and sometimes forget to stop and breathe. So this weekend, I pushed all of the excess aside and promised myself that I would only think about the really important stuff.

For a few weeks now, my sister and I have been planning a surprise birthday party for my dad to take place Memorial Day Weekend. We knew that it would be something totally unexpected and felt that he really deserved a day to be reminded of all the special people in his life whose lives he has touched. We have never pulled anything over on Dad before. He is one of those people who always successfully guesses what his gift is before he opens it, so to pull one over on him was very exciting for us. What a wonderful time had by everyone! It was so much fun to sit around, reminiscing on old times and getting in some good laughs. I especially enjoyed that my kids were able to be a part of it all. It was like giving them a glimpse into my past, something that always seems to intrigue them.






Once we were done with Dad's party, it was time to spend the day celebrating Quentin's birthday. Dad's party was on Saturday and Quentin's birthday was on Sunday. There were no big events on this day, we really kind of laid low for the day to recuperate from the night before! This was fine with Quentin. He never really requires much fanfare and we had already planned to go see a Royals game on Monday for his birthday, so he was planning on that. Quentin's one request for the day was that we make smores over my sister's new fire pit, so we spent the evening roasting marshmallows. Again, a great time was had by all.


Monday, it was off to the Royals game. The kids and I were joined by my sister, her daughter, and my dad and we all had a great time. Well...most of us did...Zoe was ready to leave as soon as she realized that the mascot was in the stadium!!




All in all it was a wonderful weekend full of milestones and memories, both new and old. I am so proud of myself for being able to shut out all of the other madness in my life and allow myself to really enjoy what is important in my life...family and friends. Now, it is back to the real world!

Just A Friendly Reminder...

It has been a long time since I last posted...too many thoughts and not enough organization up in this head of mine I guess. I have actually started this blog more than once, only to leave it and come back and delete everything I have written. That pretty much sums up the last few weeks for me though. For some reason I just can't motivate myself to do much. Maybe my brain just started "vacation mode" a little early or maybe I have just been so overwhelmed with everything in my life that parts of my brain are shutting down. Either one would would seem like a reasonable guess. This time of year is always a little bit crazy with school getting out and transitioning into warmer weather. This year we have added baseball to that list and boy, is that time-consuming! Unfortunately, no one seems to be adjusting too well to it all this year and it has made for short tempers and lots of time-outs in the Trotter house. I am afraid to say that I am not sure I am handling this well. I am noticing that a lot of the behaviors that I am having to deal with these days seem to be resulting from a new parenting schedule. Oddly enough, the more time my kids have to spend with their dad, the worse their behavior seems to be. This is extremely frustrating to me and when combined with my exhaustion from the kids, I don't seem to have much patience for my ex. After all, when it comes down to it, I blame him for us being in this situation. Period.

I told myself when I decided to start blogging, that I was not going to allow myself to spend all of my time bashing my ex. However, there is a time and place to air your grievances and if we are talking about my life, it would be unrealistic to think that I have nothing bad to say about him. That being said, the truth is that more exhausting that dealing with the kids, is dealing with the ex. It is a difficult thing to cope with, knowing and loving a person for 15 years and then suddenly realizing that you never really knew that person at all. I have always thought myself to be a pretty good judge of character when it comes to people, but after this experience in my life, I really have to question that. How do you spend nearly half of your life with a person, only to find out that they were never actually the person you thought they were? Was I really that blind to it all or was he really that good at hiding it?

You would think that now that the divorce has been finalized and the dust has settled, things would get easier. That was what I thought. But I am now realizing that getting easier is going to take a lot more time and a lot more work on my part. You see, there are two different personalities that struggle for the top position inside of me. One is the person who does not like conflict and does her best to avoid it and the other is the person who is going to tell you what she thinks and is not going to pretend to be anything she is not. It has not been easy, but I have worked very hard to push the non-confrontational side of myself down when it comes to my ex. I am constantly reminding myself that "you get what you pay for". If I sit back and allow him to be dishonest with me and don't say anything, then he will continue to do it and I will just continue to live with this anger inside of me and I do not want to spend the rest of my life feeling angry all the time. So, there has been conflict. But in a strange and unexpected way, this conflict brings me a great sense of empowerment. It feels great to stand up for myself and say exactly what I want to say, no holding back. But on the other hand, conflict is exhausting and if you aren't careful it can consume your life.

Which brings me to now. I think I still had so much anger building inside me that when the opportunity presented itself to me to stand up for myself, I did it...with a vengeance...more than once. While it was a great release for me, it also had me viewing the world around me in a very negative light. My overall attitude was not good and it was affecting everyone around me, namely my kids. But then something happened. I came home from class last night to find a complete stranger mowing my lawn. My very overgrown lawn that has not been mowed in over two weeks now while my mower is in the shop. When I stopped this man to find out what was going on, he simply told me that my lawn always looks so nice and he had noticed the grass getting longer and longer and figured that something must have been wrong, so he just wanted to help. Simple as that. I was both humbled and blown away by his kindness.

I know that God will never give me more than I can handle, and apparently He thinks I can handle quite a bit! The thing is, sometimes when you are in the midst of dealing with everything that life is giving you, it can be easy to forget that you are not alone in your struggles. But that is when God walks up behind you and gives you a little tap on the shoulder. Just a friendly reminder that He is still walking with you on your journey, and that reminder can come in many forms. This time is just happened to be in the form of a stranger mowing my lawn!

Can You Hear Me Now? Can You Hear Me Now??

Since beginning this new journey in my life, it would be safe to say that I have become a different person. In many ways this has been a good thing, but it also comes with its downfalls. I would be lying if I said that I wasn't bitter or angry. I am, and as hard as I try to focus on the positive things in my life and all that I have been blessed with, I still have my fair share of meltdowns. Although they are not nearly as frequent as they once were, they do still occur.

When I am surrounded by the sounds of crying and fighting children in my house and I find myself losing my temper with them, I get angry. All I ever wanted in my life was to have a family and be a stay-at-home mom and until a couple of years ago, that was something that I was able to do and it brought me great joy. But after my husband left, he took a lot of that joy with him. What I was left with was an overwhelming amount of stress and as a consequence, I don't find myself enjoying staying at home the way I used to. More than anything, this makes me sad because I am painfully aware that my children are the ones who are most affected by this.

On top of my anger, is the bitterness that I feel about the fact that I can no longer stay at home with my kids the way I wanted to. I have headed back to school as a means to prolong my return to work, but that has mostly just added to my stress level. I have never liked school and have never hesitated to let it be known that I am not happy about being in school now. It is a simple case of me doing whatever I have to so that I can give my kids what I believe that they deserve. I have gradually come to terms with this and I do recognize that it is for the best (I have always been pretty good at seeing the big picture), but that doesn't mean I like it!

These are probably my two big trigger points when it comes to my occasional meltdowns, but the blanket that rests above all of it is my sense of loneliness. There is not a day that goes by that I don't miss having someone to share my everyday with. It is not that I am missing my husband particularly (although sometimes I do miss the person he once was), I just miss having someone. Parenthood is a little less stressful and much more fun when you have someone to share it with. Tonight I was reminded of this as I sat in my living room and sobbed over my children's' lack of concern for me. After explaining to the kids that I needed help finding something that was very important to me, all they could manage was the defensive "it wasn't me". Of course, I understand that they are children and it is in their young nature to be somewhat self-centered. They are kids, it isn't their job to be concerned about my lost things. And with that understanding in my mind, all I could do was cry. I just want someone to hear me and to be concerned for me. My world can be crashing down around me and my kids won't have a clue, because that is how it should be. I have very intentionally made it that way. But that doesn't mean that I don't wish that just someone might notice. I really do feel like that Verizon guy,you know the one..."Can you hear me now? Can you hear me now?"

Surviving in Style

This time last year, my life was in shambles. I was struggling just to get through the day as my marriage and my life as I knew it unraveled around me. The one person who I loved and trusted more than anything, turned out to be someone that I didn't know at all. It was my birthday and I was trapped in self-pity and wondering how I would ever make it through this time in my life. My ex was always a very good gift giver and never forgot an occasion, which made that first birthday without him around, without even acknowledging my birthday at all, a difficult one. So, my wish as I blew out my candles last year seemed like a no-brainer...to survive.

Fast forward one year and I did it, I survived! I not only made it through all of the turmoil, but I came out on the other side a stronger person. This doesn't mean that my birthday this year came without my own personal pity party, but it was better. Every year gets a little bit better and I tell myself that if that's true, then eventually my "new" normal will simply be my normal. The truth is, I like my new normal. Like I said, I am a stronger person and I really feel good about that. Maybe that strength is something that has always been there, but it has taken this adversity in my life for me to recognize it. I have a greater appreciation for the loved ones that surround me in my life and the bonds that have grown stronger over this past year. Life really is better in a lot of ways.

Suddenly, celebrating a birthday has taken on a whole new meaning. It is not about the number or even the cake, it is about life and how you live it. We should celebrate the fact that we have lived the last year of our life to the fullest and have made the best out of whatever life has handed us along the way. We should celebrate the fact that we have lived to see another birthday...that we survived. Not only that, but we survived in style.

Bleachers and Bathrooms and Algae, Oh My!!

I am not the mom that cries when it is time to take down the crib and pack up the baby clothes or when her children head off for their first day of Kindergarten. I enjoy watching my kids grow and become independent individuals and encourage them to do things on their own as much as possible. Usually this works in my favor, but on occasion it has come back to bite me...three occasions now come to mind specifically, the last of the three happening just last night.

My first run-in with independence happened about three years ago with Quentin. We were at a football practice (which we often were, as my ex-husband is a college football coach) and Quentin was off with his friends on the opposite side of the field from me, playing on the old bleachers. I told him that I didn't want him going up and down the steps because it was dangerous. So the boys were running around and playing under the bleachers. At one point I looked over and couldn't find Quentin. I started scanning the area, trying to see if he was hiding under the bleachers somewhere when I heard a scream. Now, I am not a runner but at that moment I ran like a gazelle down the bleachers I was sitting in, across the field and over to the other bleachers! There I found Quentin dangling, his head stuck between the floor of the bleachers and the front rail. His head was so wedged in there that it seriously took almost the entire football team pulling the rail out away from the bleachers to get him unstuck. I felt like such a horrible mother to have let something like that happen. But then I realized, bad things are going to happen whether you are there or not. That is just the way life goes.


My second mishap happened about two years ago with Camille. Again, we were at football practice, only this time it was an evening practice so it was dark. The girls were having a great time playing and rolling down a big hill with their friends and I would occasionally go check on them. However, the last time that I went to check on them, I didn't see Camille. When I asked the other girls where Camille was, no one seemed to know. Immediately, I started searching around the stadium (which is all fenced in) for her but was having no luck finding her. I even went outside of the fenced area to see if she had wandered out into the parking lot but I still couldn't find her. At that point I was starting to panic because on one side of the stadium is a nature trail with big drop-offs and on the other side is a pond. My mind was racing, so I quickly went back into the stadium and got my sister. At this time practice was getting over and it wasn't long before everyone was out scouring the area looking for Camille. Finally I went into the football offices to call campus security, hoping that maybe she was wandering around and they found her. It was then that someone came in from the attached weight room and told us that they could hear someone crying in the bathrooms. We raced back there and found Camille screaming and crying in a dark bathroom. She had somehow gotten into the building to go to the bathroom but then couldn't get the door back open to get out. After a while the motion-sensored lights had shut off leaving her stuck in the dark. I was so relieved but, again feeling like an awful parent and wondering what must these coaches and players think of me?!


This then brings me to my latest adventure with Zoe. Now, I am sure that you will soon discover through my blogging that Zoe is, by far, my most challenging child. I never underestimate her and have even come to expect the worst, simply so that I can be prepared for whatever she might throw at me. Last night at Quentin's baseball practice (why do these things always seem to happen at a practice?!?), Zoe needed to go to the restroom. So I got Camille and the three of us started to make our way to the other side of the park. There was a paved path that took us down a hill, across a swampy area, and over to the restrooms. As we reached the bottom of the hill, I was talking to the girls about how nasty the water looked because it was full of algae. At that moment I watched Zoe move away from me towards the water. She started down a small slope and as I told her to back up and not get too close, she put her foot out and dropped in. For a moment, I stood there in shock and then had to jump into action as she was completely submerged in the disgusting green water. I quickly pulled her, screaming and crying, out of the water and back up the hill to Quentin's practice. There, I found another parent and explained to her what had happened and that I needed to leave to go get Zoe clean. She agreed to call me if practice got over before I could get back. I packed Camille and Zoe, still screaming and crying, in the car and headed home to get her cleaned up.

This was the first major mishap that I have had to experience as a single parent and, honestly, it was all I could do not to call my ex and ask for his help. But I told myself that this was one of those things that I needed to learn to do alone. As with every other "first" that I have experienced over the past couple of years, everything worked out fine and I believe I am a better person for it. I'll just add algae remover to my resume; I mean how many people can do that?!

A Glimpse in the Rear View...

I have always considered myself to be a relatively smart person and have always been that person who follows the rules and does things the way they are supposed to be done. Like when you are getting ready to take a trip someplace new and before you leave, you get online and map and print out the directions...I do that. But have you ever done that and just as you are getting to your final destination, you take that left turn and find yourself at a dead end? And there you sit thinking, "What the heck?! I did everything right; how can this be?" Well, I've done it and during some deep reflection on the current events that make up my life, I have found myself thinking about that specific experience. Before I get started on this little thing called blogging, I feel like I should give a little recap of the last couple years of my life. Because it was almost two years ago when I turned that corner in life and saw that big yellow sign. Without any warning, my life changed forever.

Like I said, I have always done everything the "right" way. I went to college, met a boy, graduated, married the boy, and started a family. We lived what I thought was a happy life raising our family. Anyone who knew us believed the same thing. But then one day my husband told me that he was not happy. Not only that, but he said that he had been unhappy for the past four years of our marriage. His words were like a blow to the stomach that took my breath away. I immediately went into "fix-it" mode, trying to do everything in my power to make things better. The problem was, I was working at it alone. For the next year, I did what I could and begged him to stay, all the while watching him slip further away from me until he finally admitted that he didn't want to try to make it work. This left me with the responsibility of sitting our three young children down and trying to explain to them that Mommy and Daddy weren't going to be married anymore and Daddy was going to live someplace else. I think this is one of the worst things I have ever had to do.

That brings me to this past year. A year spent trying to help the kids adjust to all of the changes in their lives while trying to adjust myself. A year of new beginnings, self-discovery, anger, despair and hope. Sounds like a lot, I know. It is. Life as I once knew it is gone and the life that I thought and hoped that I would always have is gone too. But at the end of the day I had that choice to make...get out and give someone else the wheel or turn around and try it again. With three beautiful children in my life, the choice was easy to make. What choice did I really have? The hard part isn't turning around, the hard part is trying to find your way again.

So, now I am finding my way. Trying to make the most out of the hand that has been dealt to me. I have been blessed with many things in my life and I refuse to lose sight of those things just because life hasn't gone my way. I have no idea where this road will take me, but I invite you to follow along while I find out.