Let The Wild Rumpus Start!

Last week, I submitted my clearances for my new job. This week I planned my outfit, went to the doctor, followed up with my plastic surgeon, did laundry, cleaned the house, and bought enough groceries to make sure I can pack my lunch the next few days. I even finished the Harry Potter series.

Ladies and gentlemen, the time has arrived. I am heading back to work.

It's a tough week to start since Gary is traveling (again). However, this trip should be his last one for a while, and I just did not want to wait any longer.

I cannot wait to walk in tomorrow, head held up high and start his next chapter of my life. I am a blank slate and can fill my narrative the way I want it to read. I am not a bereaved mom or an adoptive mom or a super cool mom. 

In reality, I am all of those things. My new coworkers will find that out in due time. Tomorrow, I am just me.

I am not someone who has struggled with weight gain and loss all her life. I am not someone who is still healing from a recent surgery. I am not someone who still watched repeats of Gilmore Girls whenever she can or someone who gets so nervous when she meets any kind of celebrity that she almost vomits.

In reality, I am all of those things, too. But tomorrow, I am just me,

I have a fresh start. I get be a part of an organization that is helping others. I get to be more than me.

I cannot wait.

Yesterday, while playing hide-and-seek with Miranda, I discovered she can hide in the dryer and close herself in. After I had a mild heart attack and explained to my her why that was NOT a good idea, I realized going back to work, even part-time work will hopefully make me more present when I am home. Or maybe not.  Time will tell.

There are things I will miss by being in an office 15-20 hours a week. Tuesday matinees. Naps. Time to take leisurely walks. I will have to find a different and more effective way to use my time now.

I do not want my writing to suffer. It's too important to me. My goal is to blog once a week and once I am in a routine, start to submit pieces to various publications. I can do more than one thing. I can be more than one thing. Now is the time to try.

So here goes nothing. Or here goes everything. My glass is half full, and I am ready to take a big, giant sip!

All You Need Is Love

For most of my life, I hated February 14th. It seemed the whole world was celebrating love and I had nothing to celebrate. My dad had left. I didn't date much in high school. My prom date was gay. I was destined to be alone and loveless forever.

Thank goodness we are not teenagers forever. As I got older, I became less melodramatic. I would protest Valentine's Day by buying up all the leftover chocolate the day after the holiday and devour my feelings with the buttercream.  It worked...until it didn't.

Eventually, my dad and I reconciled. He would send me a big bouquet of flowers every year, and if he was in town, we would go to dinner. He tried to make up for the lost years and sometimes it even worked. 

Then I met Gary.  Just like that, Valentine's Day took on new meaning. I saw it for the true Hallmark holiday that it was, but I did not care because I had love in my life! (And sometimes diamonds).

Then we got pregnant. And just like that, I knew the love I had for my unborn baby far surpassed any other kind of love I had ever known.

And then she died. Before I had a chance to say hello. Before I had a chance to tell her how much I loved her. Luckily, she could feel it for those 37 weeks. I have to believe she could feel it as she grew so close to my heart when she was alive.

Once our hearts were mended and we were open to the possibility of parenting again, we were rewarded with the best gift ever. My daughter who was born from our love, if not from our bodies, has taught us both about unconditional love. A love that I never knew existed until she was placed in my longing arms.

This morning, before the sun came up, I raced downstairs to get the balloon I purchased for Miranda. I wanted it to be the first thing she saw when she woke up. I gave her a card from mommy and daddy that appropriately had a big rainbow on the front and lots of little hearts on the inside. In a few hours, I will march proudly into her school and help her hand out her cards and cookies and lollipops and celebrate this day with her and remind her, as I do every day, that I love her to the moon and back and to all the places along the way.

I am blessed to have so much love in my life. I am honored to be able to return much of that love. I wish I had not spent so many years thinking that love was out of my grasp. Maybe, though, love is that much sweeter since I waited for it extra long? 

Happy Valentine's Day. Here's to appreciating all kinds of love and never taking any of it for granted. Here's to no longer dreading February 14th!

 

Moving Right Along

I can tell what kind of mood my daughter is in just by looking at her. A smirk means she's feeling feisty. A frown means she's feeling down. A smile means she is feeling adventurous. A blank stare means nothing good because that means she will surprise me with her mood and I am not someone who cherishes surprises. 

I plan her outfits each day with pride. Some days she wears what I choose, and other days she fights me something fierce. The days she wants to be a jaguar, for example. I have no hope of winning on those days. 

I sit in the backroom of her dance class and listen to her tap tap tapping to the music from the stereo. I talk to the other parents about activities and colds and birthday parties, and I always leave with a smile on my face.

I am a mom. I am an active, participating, involved mom. I love being a mom. I did not always know that being a mom was going to be my greatest role, but it has become that for sure. 

Lately, though, I have been feeling restless. 

Henry David Thoreau wrote, "I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived." 

Am I living? Truly? 

I decided I was, but not in the most deliberate way that I could. So I started to focus on going back to work. Right now, I only want part-time hours. I want my Mondays and Fridays home with Miranda, at least until she goes to Kindergarten in the Fall. 

I tried that schedule a few years ago, and I got burned out fast. So now I know what does not work for me, and I went on a quest to find what does work for me. 

I accepted an offer earlier today. I will be the new Volunteer Coordinator for a local agency that is working to end domestic violence. I will recruit, screen, and interview volunteer candidates. I will develop and arrange training and placement for the volunteers. I will help out with special events and make sure the agency is represented at community events, health fairs and more. In short, I will help other women find their way. 

I am not sure how I could be a better fit! Thankfully, I have no knowledge of domestic violence first hand. However, I know plenty about survival, and I have the non-profit and training skills from my past experiences that make me the ideal candidate for the job. 

To say I am excited is an understatement. I am putting myself out there, which is terrifying, but I am doing it to continue to be the best version of myself that I can be. With more of a routine and structure to my days, I also think my freelance writing will improve. I have been unmotivated of late, and that does not look good on me.

So here's to a new chapter of seeing what works for me. If I start to feel that this move was not the right one, then I will take steps to fix it. However, I do not think that will be the case.

Here's to taking chances, moving forward, and maybe - just maybe, doing some good in the world!

My motivation