Family | BulgingButtons

May 11, 2014
by BulgingButtons 15 Comments

I Never Wanted to Be a Part Time Mother

For those of you who celebrate, Happy Mother’s Day. For those of you for whom Mother’s Day rips open your heart, I’m so very sorry. And for the rest of you, well, happy Sunday.

Growing up I would go on hospital rounds with my father to see his patients. The nurses thought it was cute, and would often ask me if I was going to be a nurse when I grew up. They never thought to ask me if I was going to be a doctor. Anyway, I always answered no. I knew that I wasn’t cut out for healthcare, even at an early age.

I wasn’t sure what profession I wanted to pursue, even into my college years. I had some ideas of professions I wasn’t suited for, but the right one didn’t just jump out at me.

The obvious choice would have been educator, but I couldn’t do that because 1. I was too smart, and 2. I was indoctrinated to believe that “those who can, do and those who can’t, teach.” How foolish I was to believe those two falsehoods. Good thing I got over that and eventually found my calling.

This isn’t about teaching, though, it’s about growing up and becoming a mother. No matter what occupation I was headed for, I always knew I wanted to be a mother. I could picture it in my head. There would be trips to the park, and learning to read. There would be visits to the beach and working on school projects together. There would be long conversations in the car and Disney movies. I was cut out for it. Well, maybe not the baby part so much, but the rest of it.

Fast forward several years, and not only am I teaching but I have a son. He’s twelve, and I love him with my whole heart. All of the things I envisioned have come to pass, and there’s so much more ahead. Being his mother is part of the fiber of who I am. Then things change.

I did not choose divorce. I did not choose to dissolve my family. It is something that I didn’t anticipate. I didn’t fight it either, because by the time it happened it was overdue, but I would not have set those wheels in motion.
I meant my wedding vows. I’m one who hangs on to things longer than she perhaps should. Still, it happened. In many ways it was a relief. But it one way it was devastating. I would no longer be a full time mother.

How is that possible? How could I continue on as if life is normal when I’ve gone from a family unit to all alone? My son needed to be with his father some of the time, I understood that, but I hated it. When he was with his father, he wasn’t with me. He wasn’t home. He was gone. I couldn’t parent him if he wasn’t there. I didn’t choose that. My heart was ripped apart.

I could stand not being married. There were even some advantages to it. In the long run, almost four years later, it was obviously for the best, at least for me. But what about for my son? Instead of two full time parents he has two part time parents. Not the same. Not good enough, in my opinion. I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry that he doesn’t get either of us all the time. He deserves his parents. All kids do. And parents deserve their kids. At least good parents do. And I’m a good parent, just ask my son.

May 4, 2014
by BulgingButtons 17 Comments

Here We Go, Again

Here I sit, Sunday night, drinking my water and feeling pretty good about having eaten only half of my dragon noodles (they were soooooo good!). I’m patting myself on the back because I spent about two hours walking around the home and garden show with my guys. So what if there was no inspiration to be found at the show? I hoofed it and got a little exercise, not to mention the hike across the fairground parking lot and back. Oh yeah, I’m a health nut.

Not really.

You know me too well.

If these lame examples are what I’m counting as successes, I’m really not succeeding. I can do better. I can do more.

I want to use selling my house as an excuse. I want to blame my terrible eating habits on having to keep the kitchen clean for any potential visitors, but really that’s baloney. I can eat yogurt or fruit without making a mess. A pre-made salad takes no effort or time to prepare, and has very little clean up. I’m lying to myself, and it’s showing.

My waistline is expanding, my breathing is labored, and the tingling in my hands from my carpal tunnel is getting worse by the day (I swear it’s related to my weight and overall health).

My last doctor’s appointment wasn’t exactly great. We had the talk. Again.

I want to do better. I want to feel better. I know a way that might help, but the question is do I want to commit?

Yes, folks, I’m thinking about going back to Weight Watchers. Again. They always welcome me with open arms and big smiles (of course I do pay them) . I like the meetings. I like the accountability. I even like the structure. The question is, am I willing to put in the work?

I guess we’ll see, because I’m going to do it. Tomorrow I sign up. Again. Wish me luck.

April 9, 2014
by BulgingButtons 4 Comments

This Could Be the One

My house has been on the market for almost 7 weeks. I’m told the current average time on the market is around 11 weeks. I wish to beat that time, but I can only do so much.

I got a call earlier this evening from a realtor who would like to bring her client by tomorrow. Yay. It’s been several days since anyone has looked at the house. If they don’t come, they won’t buy. A showing is a good thing, and I’m happy that there’s one scheduled.

I’m also tired of it. Not of the showings, exactly, just of the preparation. With every showing there’s a renewed flurry of activity, in addition to the already expanded daily routine. I know I should quit complaining about it, but it’s wearing on me.

I’m starting to feel even more like a nagging mother than usual. “Make your bed, put away your laundry, dust your bookshelves, clean your toilet.” On and on it goes. I don’t like being this kind of mom. I don’t want to freak out if there are fingerprints on my son’s bathroom mirror or if he leaves a pair of socks in the hopefully named “media” room (aka spare bedroom). Both of those things happened today, and I found myself relieved that nobody saw the house in “that” condition. I want us to be able to relax a little and not stress out over trash cans with trash in them or the occasional book or magazine left on a side table.

For now, though, we have to keep tidy. Whether we realize it or not people make decisions based on irrelevant stimuli all the time. I don’t need anyone deciding that this house is wrong for them because there’s a toothpaste tube on the vanity or the shower curtain hasn’t been closed. Stupid stuff, but the brain works in mysterious ways, and I don’t want to give anyone’s brain any reason to say no to this house.

I’m guilty of these silly judgements myself. I know that when I tour homes I want to see clean, tidy houses. I want it to be clear that the seller knows that they are trying to sell. I don’t want to be distracted by the age of the furniture or the color of the walls or the collection of judo trophies on a shelf.

Over the years, I have seen homes in all sorts of conditions, from vandalized, filthy, and falling apart wrecks to the beautifully designed model homes of top builders. My home is none of these, but with a lot of effort hopefully it is closer to the model type than the dump type.

This is a great house. It will make someone a great home. I think they may be stopping by tomorrow, so I have to go. I want to make sure they feel welcome.