I really miss Zoloft. It was like a fluffy pillow protecting me from life's jagged edges. I would hit them, but it didn't really hurt. Now when I hit them, it hurts like hell.

 

I wonder what the hell I was thinking getting my daughter a cat, as I sit here with my eyes damn near swollen shut and a runny nose and watery eyes...not to mention the demise of everything in my house from a nice rug to the couch to plantation shutters to every dang toothbrush we have. And the cat pees in the bathtub. Ew.

 

I wish I could see what it's like, even for just a day, to be a total bitch. I'd really like to just be mean as hell, not give a shit, and have no concept of what it's like to be a doormat.

 

I miss being married. Remember, the title of the blog is "Sometimes." Just sometimes.

 

I start to realize that I will probably never really know what it's like for someone to be so in love with me, that they couldn't -- wouldn't -- imagine not having me in their life. I have always been, and probably always will be, replaceable. And I realize that much of that is probably my fault. It has to be, or it wouldn't keep happening.

 

I think I can cook, and then when I try, I'm reminded that I can't cook. Even when I follow the recipe.

 

The reality of the hardest choice I've ever had to make comes crashing in on me with such force that I can barely breathe because I'm so terrified of the future.

 

I laugh out loud at the stupid shit and do and it kind of echoes because I'm usually alone if I'm not with my kids. It's weird to laugh out loud all alone -- at yourself.

 

I want a glass of wine but realize I will only drink one glass, thus wasting the rest of the bottle because I probably won't want anymore again for a few days, if not longer. And it feels kind of pathetic to sit here, alone, and drink wine. And more pathetic to waste it.

 

I think maybe I was meant to be alone. And then other times, I refuse to accept that.

 

I  flip through my Bible in hopes of landing on just the right passage to give me inspiration and guidance on a particular problem. Almost every time, it works. It even happened today.

 

I try to smell one of my Papa's old hats I got from his closet after he passed away. The scent reminds me of good memories in my childhood. I'll be sad when it eventually loses that scent.

 

I just take a few bits of whatever my kids are having for dinner or maybe grab a handful of chips for dinner because it's one of the saddest parts of the day for me. It's the hour I feel like the biggest failure. My kids come home to an over-tired, over-stressed mom who can't cook and barely has enough time to bathe them and get homework done. They eat typical "kid food" on the go, in the living room, or quickly at the table and run. They should be sitting around the table with their mom and dad, eating something nutritious, and talking about their day and winding down.

 

I really don't want to know what's going to happen next because I'm convinced that based on previous experience, it can't be good. And then other times, I just can't wait because I'm convinced it has to get better from here.

 

I stay up much later than I should....like right now......

In trying to figure out the exact date of a friend’s birthday, I had to go through some old (should be deleted but aren’t) emails to keep from making a total ass out of myself by saying “happy birthday” when I’m not even close. The point isn’t whether I got the birthday right or not (I did, sort of), it’s that I was reminded of where I was this time last year. So much has happened I can’t believe I almost forgot. I was still living in a hotel last year, dutifully taking my laptop out into the hallway every evening to work, while my kids peacefully slept in their uncomfortable hotel bed covered with a delightful mauve and baby blue flowered comforter….the smells of curry drifting through the hallways. Ahhh……

            I was horrified with myself for moving my daughters from their home into a new one, not yet built and into a new school, sight unseen. Fast-forward, clearly we survived. But man, what a year! I swore I’d never go on another date. I did and lived to tell about it. (Dating around in your almost-40’s as a single mom…..not highly recommended, yet possible.) The girls did great in school, have friends, and are for the most part adjusting well. Oh, and we moved out of the hotel and into the house which I still don’t like but am grateful for. And in a year of hard knocks for a lot of employees out there, I managed to keep my job (ThankYouJesus) and am still typing for dollars. Wow. We did all that?

            So here we are in the final countdown to the school year starting and it occurs to me that I’ve got to get my shit together. School clothes have been purchased…backpacks (but now the oldest wants a different one)….school shoes (just waiting for, “I liked them in the store, but now they hurt”)….supplies, blah blah. I’ve written a check to just about every spirit organization, piano teacher, daycare, you name it……. It’s like an automatic reflex, check writing. And we’ve added an orthodontist to my payroll this year, so that’s extra amusing. Like everything else, I’m still (always) just trying to keep up. I’m on top of things at work, but not really ahead. The house is straight, but not clean. I know my daughter’s DS games are in the house, just not sure where. The cat is alive, but not because I want her to be. I lost weight, but I gained some back. The kids eat, but it’s nothing gourmet and barely registers as healthy. I sleep, but often still in my work clothes. We go to bed, but not on time. You get the picture.

            In the middle of all this, I tend to stop now and then and think about myself as well. I’ve become best friends with alone this year. Granted, as of late, I haven’t had to be alone as much but there are still very still and quiet moments. Not too long ago, at church, I couldn’t quit looking at this older lady, sitting all alone in her pew. Now chances are, she is a widow and alone because she lost her husband….not because she chose to be alone at age 36. Yes, I see the difference. I kept thinking that could really be me some day – kids grown and off at their own churches with their own families and me – wherever I’ll be – getting up, dressed, and driving myself to church in hopes of seeing a few friendly faces, driving back home, and doing some more sitting…alone, of course, while eating my Lean Cuisine. My daughter recently revealed that one of her biggest worries is about me being alone when she is with her dad. She pictures me by myself, missing them and she feels sorry for me. My heart broke for her to hear that! I’m fine, and I plan on letting her know I’m OK. But I see why she thinks that…. My life, for the most part, revolves around them and when they’re not in my presence, it’s like I’m missing my co-captains. We’re a team. Thank goodness they’re still young enough to really need me almost all of the time, because it keeps me going and gives me a reason to keep pushing forward. I hope I’m not alone on the church bench but the key to not being afraid of it, is to accept that it’s a possibility. What is it, expect the worst and be pleasantly surprised when it doesn’t happen? Yeah….I’ll go with that gem of wisdom.

            Now we have added drama of getting braces, a new school year with “OMG so much homework,” TAKS, last year of preschool (the bastards that yank $800 a month out of my account), fighting about shorts vs. undies under school uniform dress each day, commuting further to work, getting to piano on time, car always breaking down, Saturday dance class, visitation struggles, figuring out how to split escalating expenses for two growing kids who have a need a minute and a want every second, the oldest not getting into the same class as her friends (Her: This will be the WORST YEAR EVER! Me: No baby, that was last year), staying afloat in this craptacular economy, figuring out how in the world I’ll ever be able to afford all of the fall boots I want (read: not), and really wanting to move again when I know I shouldn’t. That’s just a start.

 At least I have the new Hoarders series and another season of Desperate Housewives to look forward to. And let’s not forget Glee. (Pathetic much?). I didn’t cancel my membership to the Y, even though I never stepped foot inside it last year except to sign up. I’ll consider it a banner year if I actually walk in and get my ass on at least one machine. That and getting the cat declawed. The life of a single mom….nothing but pure unadulterated glam.

            Basically every day is like hitting the road to a different and usually not-so-entertaining adventure without a map. (Wait, we don’t use maps anymore right? Navigation system?) I have no idea what I’m doing or where I’m headed. Based on previous results, chances are I’m going to screw up big time. Thank God for the family and friends in my life who keep me on course. Thank God I continue to hear “I love you” even when I can’t imagine why. Thank God my kids love me despite how I’ve muddied up their sweet little lives. Thank God I can still manage to get my work done and someone still approve of it, after almost 11 years. I don’t know if I could have made it without all of that. So maybe I have a map after all, but don’t really need it because I know we’re going to end up OK.