family | BulgingButtons

October 7, 2014
by BulgingButtons Leave a comment

Alone vs. Lonely

I am home alone. This is a rarity. If the whole family isn’t home, I’m usually either with my son or my sweetheart. Occasionally I get home from work first on a day that my son is with his father, so as I’m puttering around, unwinding from the day, I may have fifteen minutes to myself, but they are full. I come in, put my work things away, let the dog out, feed her, use the bathroom, check the mail, and *poof* the alone time is gone.

On the days my son isn’t with his dad, I’m his driver. We walk out together in the morning, and we walk back in together in the afternoon. When he’s gone for the weekend, my sweetheart and I spend a lot of time together. We like it that way. We run errands together, we go on dates together, we do projects around the house together, and we just generally enjoy each other’s company.

My family, however, understands that I’m a bit of an introvert, and that I need some time and space to myself.
I have a wonderful “studio” in our home where I can retreat for a bit. After a while one of them might wander in, and that’s fine. I’m not a hermit by any definition of the word. I love them both dearly, and enjoy spending time with them.

There’s a difference between being alone by choice and being alone by circumstance. I learned that lesson when I got divorced. I was okay with the idea of being divorced. I wasn’t thrilled about it, but I understood it, and figured that in the long run it would be best for all involved. It has been. But what I didn’t understand, just couldn’t wrap my head around, was the idea that I should be forced to be 100% utterly alone as a result of circumstances that were beyond my control. I’m talking about my son’s time with his father, of course. My rational brain knew that they deserved to spend time together, and that my son needed his father in his life. It was the primal brain, however, that screamed out, “THIS IS UNFAIR!”

The weekends he was away were torture for me. It felt like the most horrible type of punishment I could imagine. I went from what I considered a normal family life, with a husband and a son, to a completely single entity for those ghastly weekends. How could I be a mother for x number of days a month, but not a mother for the rest? Oh sure, I was still his mother, but I couldn’t parent him. I tried not to think about it too much. I tried not to be critical of his father’s parenting (he’s not a bad father at all, in fact there are a lot of things that I think he does really well in terms of his relationship with our son). I tried to just separate myself from the whole situation when he wasn’t with me. I was always available for my son, but he didn’t need me when he was with his dad. It’s been several years now and to this day I rarely speak to him when he’s with his dad. It’s not that I’m not interested in what he’s doing, but I don’t want to infringe on their time together.

That first year or so of that utter and complete aloneness when he was gone forced me to make some decisions about how I wanted to handle myself. I could have spent those entire weekends in front of the tv, binging on movies and ice cream. I didn’t. I started to find things to do and people to connect with. It started to hurt less and I started to find peace in the alone time. Still, I didn’t like it. I loved having a family. I loved going on outings and sharing family dinners and playing in the pool together and watching movies and celebrating holidays and going on vacations and all of those things that families do. I was heartbroken that it all came to an end, both for myself and for my son. I felt like we were being robbed. Still, I had to make a decision to either wallow in it and make myself even more miserable, and take my son down with me, or deal with it. I’m a grown up. I dealt with it.

Time has passed, and there is a new man in my life, and family has a new definition. No, we’re not married, but the three of us are a family, just as my son’s father and his extended family are still part of our family. It’s not what I expected, but it seems to be working out okay for us.

Long story short, I enjoy those few hours alone at home when nobody is around, but I enjoy them because they’re not forced on me. I’m alone, but I’m far from lonely.

September 10, 2014
by BulgingButtons 5 Comments

Throwback Thursday – Dinnertime

There is something to be said for Mom’s home cooking, even if your mom isn’t the world’s best cook. Now I’m not saying my mom isn’t a good cook, but she does have an aversion to spices, and as far as I know, butter has never seen the inside of her kitchen. Be that as it may, there are some family dinners that I recall from my childhood with a certain amount of nostalgia.

1. Shabbat dinner. This is the traditional Friday night sabbath meal that Jews the world over share. At our house it usually consisted of a piece of pan fried halibut (coated in Italian style breadcrumbs) served with carrot sticks and a baked potato. The potato was always topped with chip dip (sour cream and onion, of course). It was a long time before I realized that putting chip dip on a baked potato was considered weird by the rest of the world. It’s delicious.

2. Baked chicken breast. My mother would sprinkle Lawry’s Seasoned Salt all over chicken breasts, then bake them. Since this was the only time anything with any type of seasoning was ever served, it seemed like a real treat.

3. Meatloaf and mashed potatoes. My mom made fantastic mashed potatoes, even if they were made with margarine. The meatloaf was pretty good too, when my mother stuck to the tried and true method. The various experiments with green peppers, oats, and Campbell’s alphabet soup weren’t as well received.

4. Dry, grey-brown roast beef. ‘Nuf said.

5. Dry, grey-brown steak. See number 4.

6. Hamburgers. These were small and pretty tasty. They were generally pan fried. They weren’t as grey as the other beef dishes.

7. Spaghetti with meatballs. No complaints here, it was quite tasty.

8. Liver and onions. My father loved it. My brother and I ate something else, probably cereal. Fortunately my mom didn’t make it often. I don’t think she liked it either.

What did your family eat when you were growing up?

July 18, 2014
by BulgingButtons 8 Comments

Curse This Blessing

Tomorrow my niece will have her Bat Mitzvah. She will get up in front of the congregation and friends and family from near and far and she will read from the Torah. It is a Jewish rite of passage and she is well prepared for it. She will do great.

I, on the other hand, will bomb.

I never had a Bat Mitzvah. I was raised in the same synagogue where she will have her ceremony, and while it is a beautiful house of worship, it’s also quite large. As a kid her age I was quite shy. I begged my parents not to make me do it, and they agreed. I still don’t entirely understand that decision, but I’m happy with it. As a result, I never had to go up there and recite Hebrew in front of all those people. I dodged a bullet. Or so I thought.

A few nights ago my brother mentioned that he would like me and my mother to recite two prayers during the service. One is recited before reading the Torah, and the other is recited after. I’ve heard both of these prayers many many times during my life, but could I tell you the exact words? Did I mention that they’re in Hebrew? Gulp.

My brother told me not to worry, they have a laminated card right up there on the pulpit so you can’t mess up. The words are written in english syllables. Sort of. And the tune… well, let’s just say it’s a kind of sing-song chant thing. I should know it. But I don’t.

My internet access has been somewhat limited, so it wasn’t until tonight that I was able to hunt around on youtube to find these prayers. Finally, a Jan Lieberman, a cantor from Florida, had what I needed. I know most of it, but there’s still one line that’s tricky. The sounds she makes and the english letters on the laminated card don’t seem to match up in my brain, so I’m still a little stuck on that part. Add to that the fact that my mother is completely tone deaf, and I don’t have a great voice to begin with, and I think we’re in trouble.

The good news is that I’ve got the first prayer down. The further good news is that the second prayer is only about 15 seconds long on the youtube video. It will be fine, I have all night to listen to it. Besides, nobody will be paying attention to me anyway, it’s my niece’s day, and she will be perfect.