Warning: typing on about 5 hours sleep from the night before. Today has been a frazzled kind of day. Feeling a bit low, a bit sad, a bit contemplative, a bit emotional and a little overly dramatic at the end . . . continue if you dare . . . lol
It is 9:00PM and my day is just about over. The girls are sleeping, laundry is done, house is picked up, and I’m sitting here in bed feeling quite conflicted. Yet the harder I think about why I feel this way, the more confused and frustrated I become. Of course, I could just blame it on the stress of being a single mommy to two demanding toddlers plus the roller coaster that divorce ALWAYS is. It would just be so easy to blame my unknown feelings on the OBVIOUS. But it FEELS like something else. I just don’t know what.
Tomorrow we are going to church for the first time in ages. Breezy hasn’t been since she was probably about 4 months old and Sassy about the age Breezy is now (18-19 months old) I’m excited and nervous. Sassy has separation anxiety so I always feel bad leaving her anywhere that isn’t with my family because I don’t want her to be scared. BUT I figure church is a great place for her to learn independence considering she is going to be attending pre-school next year and Mommy can’t stay there either. Breezy on the other hand is perfectly happy to wave goodbye to me. Which also worries me because I feel like she would up and leave with just anyone who she deemed interesting enough. I have to make sure on all papers (whether it be at church, the gym, play land at the market, wherever) that they are to leave with no one but me (or in the case of school, their emergency contacts)
Yesterday, the husband texted me saying that he so missed playing with his girls and that he was very sad because he knew those times would never come back. (I’m assuming he meant when he played with them *or actually just Sassy because Breezy was too little* when we lived together as a family) In any case I tried really hard to be supportive and nice and explain that he won’t have to miss out with his girls but because I kept the conversation focused on them, I think he thought I missed the whole point of his complaint and suddenly decided to give me the cold shoulder . . . and honestly, that is OK with me. It is very hard for me when he cries and begs and blubbers and pleads and sobs. It makes me feel bad and it makes me question myself and my reasoning, my motives. But then he turns around and changes (as usual) from Dr. Jekyll into Mr. Hyde, giving me the cold shoulder, telling me no matter what I say or ask that ‘the judge will decide that’, ‘the courts will decide that’ … yada yada yada. It’s when he turns into this cold, inhuman person that I remember why I am doing this. I feel validated in my reasoning and all doubts leave my mind. So, I would actually prefer the asshole-ish side of him.
In a recent post I talked about how the girls are told they are going to see their dad and then he lets them down and several comments/e-mails suggested I not tell them when they are going to see him and when he shows up, let that be the surprise. Well, in an ideal world that would be fantastic. The problem? I don’t tell them when they are going to see him. He tells them. He’ll call and ask to talk to them … Like he did today … and he’ll talk about seeing them in a couple days or ‘tomorrow’ or ‘later today’ and once he spits the words out, there’s no way for me to shove them back down his throat. Then he texts or calls ME to tell them that he isn’t coming and I quote: (Translated from Spanish to English) ‘Tell my little girls that I love them so much and that I send them tons of kisses. Thanks. Have a good day.’ < --- That is his signature goodbye for every conversation but it seriously irks me that he doesn’t have the balls to call them and tell them himself. I feel like they think I’m a ‘bad mama’ cuz I’m the one that tells them daddy isn’t coming, as if somehow I stopped it or wouldn’t let him.
Today's meals looked like this:
Breakfast was sandwich thin with 1/2 TBSP Nutella and 1/2 TBSP peanutbutter on 100 cal toast plus coffee and creamer.
Snack was an apple.
Lunch was chunk light tuna in water mixed with creamy light dijon mustard and (get this - I know it sounds gross) but Chachies Mango Peach Salsa. It was soooooo friggin good and dill. I ate that with about 12 crackers.
Snack was some tortilla chips + more of that Mango Peach salsa.
Dinner was acorn squash with 2 TBSP brown sugar and some plain noodles.
Dessert was a serving (50 pcs) honey graham cracker fishies.
For a total daily intake of 1499 calories. 1 under. I'm soooo proud.
I am not however so proud that I haven't exercised much. Yes, I am up down and in and out and all over the place with the girls, picking them up, putting them down, sitting on the floor, standing up, walking here and there and everywhere but no traditional exercise, which kinda peeves me off. But (shrugs) if I was so mad about it I should make time for it, right? LOL. Right.
Onto something that kind of has me in physical agony right now; the fact that my skin tears. Yup, you read right. My skin that is where my thigh and belly meet (groin area) is so thin and fragile I actually have tears in it?!?! WTF! And it hurts like a mother! I've put hydrogen peroxide and Neosporin on it in hopes it heals quickly. This isn't the first time it has happened and it drives me nuts. Anyone else have fragile skin anywhere on their bodies? How do you keep it from stretching/ tearing?
Ok, so besides 'him' and my skin issue and my good intake + not so great burn, life is good if not a bit tedious at the moment. I’m ready for wint-ing or spri-nter to be over. < -- those being a mixture of winter and spring. I am ready for summer. Sun. And all that entails. Warm … even hot weather. Lighter clothes. Going outside. Taking walks. Looking at flowers and worms and bugs and frogs with the girls. I want to wear flip-flops and get the fun flip-flop tan on me feet and wear my hair in a ponytail that won’t frizz because there won’t be any rain. I want to go to the river and the parks, watch the airplanes and the huge freight trains and the steamboats and the windsurfers. I want to play ball with the girls in the grass and drag out the plastic kiddy pool and have them jump around in it getting everyone wet. I want the smell of the BBQs and yes, the summer food. Watermelon, berries, fresh fruit, Popsicles, and cold cold cold iced tea. I want the evening parties around neighbors’ fire pits, roasting marshmallows (even though I hate marshmallows) and talking and getting eaten alive by mosquitoes but laughing about it because the alternative is clouds and rain and winter all over again.
As I have been writing this there has been something gnawing at the back of my mind. Something that I can’t quite grasp but a question that just touches the edges of the tidal wave of feelings, emotions, thoughts and ideas keeps popping up. Who do you want to be?
As a kid we are asked, ‘WHAT do you want to be’ and generally we would answer with a profession of some kind. I want to be a MODEL, or a FIREFIGHTER, a DOCTOR or a VETERINARIAN. But no one ever asks (at least not to me) WHO DO YOU WANT TO BE?
Obviously we cannot change our identity. We are who we are regardless of the ability to change our names and our appearance. But in a sense we can determine and decide WHO WE WANT TO BE. And as I write this, I have no idea WHO I WANT TO BE because I STILL DON’T KNOW WHO I AM.
Can one be defined by her job? I’m a mom. But there’s more. Can I be described by my aspirations? I want to be an author. A bestselling author. But I’m not … yet. But even still there’s more. So much more. More depth, more of me.
AND EVEN STILL I look at that and think, is that WHO I REALLY WANT TO BE.
My name is Kristen. I am 26 years old and aging with every passing moment. I am 5’3 and ¾ and the only way to change that is to put on heals. I have pale skin, freckles and big features. Deep nail beds, a longer second toe, unbelievably flexible joints, a strange tongue, no tonsils or adenoids and a signature scar that will forever bare the tales of the births of my two angels.
It’s all up to me.
WHO DO I WANT TO BE …
I don’t know the answer yet. Apparently I am at a point where I need to start figuring that out and I guess it’s now because I have never had the opportunity before.
My blog name has never felt more relevant than at this moment, because I am literally Kreating Kristen.
What do I want in life?
What will I strive for?
What do I like? Dislike?
What do I believe?
Has it all been persuaded by the circumstances of my past or will I find I truly do know myself better than I think.
I guess I’ll have to find out. So stay tuned if you’re interested cuz your guess is as good as mine …