Posts Tagged ‘single mother’

Why It’s Good I Waited.

If I had written my relationship book after my first divorce.

You would have arrived at my doorstep and taken me out to lunch. We’d have talked about what happens when  monogamy goes out the window.

Well, well, well.

At first, I’d have been not too happy during that lunch. I may even have spit a little salad while giving you the gory details. I may have turned my buttered slice of artisan bread into a frisbee headed for my ex-husband.

But after simmering down, I would have pulled up my big girl britches and said, “OK. No problem. I picked the wrong man. It’s a simple mistake and I’m wiser now. I’ll go find another one. I can do better.”

You’d have given me a thumbs up for leaving the marriage. We would have clinked our glasses of iced tea to say, “You go, girl.”

If I had written my relationship book after my second divorce.

You and I would need to go on anti-depressants and eat cupcakes. We might need wine. Followed by a lengthy spa vacation with unlimited massages, salt scrubs, mani’s and pedi’s.

Because?

I found my forever man and he left me.

When he announced he was moving out, I thought I would die from the anguish. My heart broke big time. I cried practically every day for a year. I was 32 years old.

If I’d have written my relationship book after that marriage, we’d have done the only thing we could do — hold hands and weep.

If I had written my relationship book after becoming a (surprise!) single mother.

You would have needed a nap after reading even a few pages of that book.

If you had read the whole thing, you would have needed a l-o-n-g winter nap — like we’re talking all winter. We’re talking hibernation.

Before going into the cave, though, I would have detained you by asking way too many questions about raising a small human all by myself. I had no idea how to do that. My Childhood Development degree from Iowa State University was not handy information at all, in fact, it was of no help whatsoever.

There I was, pregnant at 39, living an idyllic and leisurely single life in a waterside apartment in Marina del Rey, CA.. Days were sunny and 72 degrees. My wall of windows and sliding glass doors overlooked a marina of sailboats. I loved the soothing sound of the ropes and pulleys gently clanging against the masts of the boats… music to me.

Every day, I drove a couple miles along the sparkling blue ocean (oh darn) to get to my sweet Venice office where I had a full consulting practice.

I loved my work. I loved where I lived. I loved my life. Then suddenly I was with child.

Talk about radical changes.

The father said he would help pay for an abortion, but the idea repulsed me. I knew (from a vivid dream) I was having a girl and felt as if I already knew her. I couldn’t bring myself to send her back where she came from.

Her father didn’t come to the birth or offer support. Instead, he handed me silence and distance, which was the best he could offer at the time. He forced me to find faith in myself.

Did I sign up for that?

Apparently.

Alright then. No father for my daughter.

Now what?

Are fathers important? Are positive male role models a good thing for a little girl to have? I thought they were, and once she was an older toddler, I went about finding stand-ins. I was sure I could find male friends I trusted who’d want to spend time with my beautiful daughter and show her how the world is one big family.

Surely I could find male friends who’ve given up on being a father. They would adore spending time with a small blonde wonder, wouldn’t they?

Turns out there were plenty of men who loved the idea of being a borrowed father.

The Stand-Ins

One gentleman bought her a yellow tool box (just her size) and taught her to build things. She loved that so much. They are still friends.

Another long-time friend, a full-time watercolor artist (no children), lived part-time in two places — Hawaii and Aspen. He took her to Disneyworld and to a very fancy resort in Hawaii.

At this resort, they spent most of their time in the (astonishing, gorgeous, kid friendly) pool. My daughter thought it was a miracle that you could ask someone to bring you a hot dog and a drink and they would — on a tray with a white napkin.

This wonderful man gave her spontaneous art lessons whenever she seemed interested. In Aspen he showed her how to paint an aspen tree. I watched him with my own eyes. It was miraculous watching that tree appear! They are still friends, as well.

One man (a single father) had five sons and wanted his little guys to know what it was like to have a sister. They borrowed her and discovered girls play very differently than boys. MacKenzie provided quite a departure from the daily routine in their rough and tumble all male household. She loved having brothers.

Another good friend of mine who never had children loved theme parks and roller coasters took her to Knott’s Berry Farm, Disneyland, and Legoland. She loved outings with him and they came back from their adventures sporting gigantic smiles. One grown up kid and one little kid — what a great pair and yes, they are still friends to this day.

My female friends with no children borrowed her, too, so she had extra mothers as well. Girlfriends took her to movies and art galleries, fashion shows, lunch and shopping.

MacKenzie loved having more than one parent. It fit her style perfectly. She related well to adults and developed an impressive vocabulary at an early age.

I made sure she had an ongoing family of  brothers and sisters by opening a daycare. (Oh gosh, what was I thinking?) I took in five other children. (I have never cleaned so much in all my life.)

I have nothing but respect for single mothers. This book would have ended with prayer hands, bowing to every parent who raises children solo. This book would have been about reverence.

If I had written my relationship book after my third divorce.

You’d be confused. Or bored. Or you wouldn’t care enough to finish the book. Maybe you would have tossed it in the trash.

(Hasn’t this girl learned anything yet? She’s still getting divorced.)

If I had written my relationship book after my fourth marriage.

Oh, wait! That’s what I’m doing! You’re gonna be so glad I did that! You’ll be so glad I waited!!!

I get it now. I’ve learned so much about love and marriage and I’m putting it on paper. I bet you’ll get it, too. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll find pieces that matter, ideas that make a difference to you.

Besides that, I tell (really) good stories in this book. Waiting can be such a good thing!

P.S. (I know, I know… I’m workin’ on it. I didn’t look at my book for a year, during Eric’s sickness and death. It was a mind-blowing to pick it up again after all that time — I realized how much I had changed. Now I’ve re-edited the book once through and I’m heading back into it for one last pass before I give it to my editor. It’s basically a very long blog — it takes time to get it right.)

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Rise Up by Andra Day

What a great set of words for these oncoming days.

Rise Up

 
You’re broken down and tired
Of living life on a merry go round
And you can’t find the fighter
But I see it in you so we gonna walk it out
And move mountains
We gonna walk it out
And move mountains
And I’ll rise up
I’ll rise like the day
I’ll rise up
I’ll rise unafraid
I’ll rise up
And I’ll do it a thousand times again
And I’ll rise up
High like the waves
I’ll rise up
In spite of the ache
I’ll rise up
And I’ll do it a thousand times again
For you
For you
For you
For you
When the silence isn’t quiet
And it feels like it’s getting hard to breathe
And I know you feel like dying
But I promise we’ll take the world to its feet
And move mountains
Bring it to its feet
And move mountains
And I’ll rise up
I’ll rise like the day
I’ll rise up
I’ll rise unafraid
I’ll rise up
And I’ll do it a thousand times again
For you
For you
For you
For you
All we need, all we need is hope
And for that we have each other
And for that we have each other
And we will rise
We will rise
We’ll rise, oh, oh
We’ll rise
I’ll rise up
Rise like the day
I’ll rise up
In spite of the ache
I will rise a thousand times again
And we’ll rise up
High like the waves
We’ll rise up
In spite of the ache
We’ll rise up
And we’ll do it a thousand times again
For you
For you
For you
For you
Ah, ah, ah, ah
Source: LyricFind
Songwriters: Cassandra Monique Batie / Jennifer Decilveo
Rise Up lyrics © BMG Rights Management

Terri’s book of photography combined with poetry is here! 100 Words: Small Servings of Whimsy and Wisdom to Calm the Mind and Nourish the Heart.

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Rippling Abs, Anyone?

Rippling Abs, Anyone?

During this strange time in history, I noticed y’all were tackling all sorts of interesting projects. I decided I needed one, too—something positive to remember the pandemic of 2020 by.
 
I decided to pay attention to something I had abandoned…
 
Nope, I’m not cleaning my garage. I am not organizing one single thing. I’m not planting a garden or cleaning up my yard.
 
Instead, I decided to take care of myself better. This, folks, has made all the difference for me.
 
With relatively little time and effort on my part, I feel so much better than I did a month ago.
 
On March 30, I got on the exercise bike and the yoga mat for the first time in a long time, and did 30 minutes each. I liked it so much that I decided to do it every day. But I fell short of that, and changed my commitment to every other day, which felt more manageable, reasonable, and doable.
 
I also get off the bike after every song, take a couple of sips of water, shake out my legs and arms for a few seconds, and get back on. This makes the bike project a reasonable proposition, too.
 
Daily walks of any length—by myself, or with my little guy, Jackson—are a fresh air bonus.
 
My recumbent exercise bike has pulleys to work my upper body while I pedal, which gets my heart rate up fast, and also helps my whole-body strength. It feels good to get up from writing, or doing a consulting session with a client, to do something physically challenging while listening to good music.
 
After only a month, I feel a sheet of muscles on the front of me I haven’t felt for a very, very long time. Goodness gracious. Who knew they were there. I’ll be posting rippling ab photos soon, I’m sure.
 
I have no idea what the scales have to say about my bike/yoga project—I don’t care. Paying attention to scales tends to send me sideways, and therefore, I’m ignoring them completely.
 
But—I LOVE the way I feel! Hang in there, everyone.
 

Terri’s book of photography combined with poetry is here! 100 Words: Small Servings of Whimsy and Wisdom to Calm the Mind and Nourish the Heart.

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Check Out This Troublemaker in Relationships

Check Out This Troublemaker in Relationships

Sometimes we ask intimate partners to do for us what is actually ours to do.

We ask our partner to give us the reassurance, love or appreciation we feel is missing in ourselves, with the hope that they will give us what we’re asking for—and then we’ll feel better. They’ll take care of our problem.

But when they do give us what we’re asking for, it can never be enough, because we have insufficient context for what they’ve given. We haven’t build the inner foundation to receive it, hear it, welcome it, believe it. They try to help, but their love for us falls into our void, our black hole, our love bucket with no bottom.

As always, there’s hope. Check out the video below.

Terri Crosby. http://www.incareofrelationships.com/.

Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay

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Terri Crosby

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