Sunday Reset

One of the best things about my job is having a regular work schedule. It makes it so much easier to have routines. Like Sundays for example. It's the day I do laundry and dishes. I clean out the fridge. I look at my planner for the week. It's a weekly reset for me, and it's made a huge difference in my life. What used to be overwhelming (like handwashing my travel coffee cups) is now very satisfying.

I also notice I've been blogging on Sundays. I don't have a list of drafts. Every time I write a post, I open my laptop and start writing. When I'm done, I read over it a couple of times and publish it. It's become another part of my Sunday.

However, today my thoughts are scattered. I've been thinking that maybe I've been grieving a little lately. I've been so tired for so long, and I'm operating at maximum capacity. I keep doing stuff like preventative healthcare appointments and trying to buy a house because I feel like I am so close to being done with stuff for awhile. I might get a break from major life stressors soon.

It's okay. I knew this year would be tough. I am relieved that I'm past the halfway mark. 

But that's where the grieving comes in. It has taken so long to recover from infertility. It has taken so long to create a different life (one where I don't have kids) from the life I assumed I'd be living (being a mother). There were a lot of other things along the way, like my divorce and the pandemic. It's just been exhausting.

I noticed I was feeling a little sad for a couple of weeks. It wasn't about not having kids necessarily. It was more about how much time, energy, and resources it took to change my life. And yes, I'm very grateful for the time, energy, and resources, but I also get to say that it sucked. It sucked that so many other people got to live their lives as is while I poured myself into creating something completely new and unknown.

And then this weekend happened. Where I realized, by watching a close loved one with their young adult kid, that my children will never do dumb shit and/or break my heart. My heartbreak comes from them not being here.

The contrast. Having kids, not having kids. 

And the similarities. Heartbreak all the same.

I've been quietly thinking about all of this as I've gone about my chores today. My laundry is done and my kitchen is picked up. I've got a grocery list written for tomorrow after work. I feel prepared for the upcoming week. I've still gotta keep going; I've got a lot to do at home and work for the next 1 - 3 months. Then I am hoping I can do less and just maintain.

Thinking of you as we start a new week. I know things aren't easy for anyone right now. 💜

Cute infographic found on Notes by Thalia

Perspective

I put in an offer on a house. Looking for a house to buy was pretty much the last thing I felt like doing. I am SO tired. But... I saw one online that I loved. I knew that if it went pending before I even looked at it I'd be mad at myself. So I made myself find a realtor and looked at the house. 

I loved it.

Even if it all works out and I end up buying this house, I can't call it my forever home. I've already had three "forever" homes. The house my ex-husband owned when we got married, the house we bought for our children, and the house I bought in a small town in the middle of nowhere. At each place, I thought I could live there forever. But... I didn't.

Now I'm excited about a fourth house. Maybe it will work out. Maybe it won't. But I hope it does.

This isn't a house that is possible only because I don't have kids. It would actually be a great house for kids. The yard and floor plan are great, and it's by a park and zoned to good schools. 

But I don't have kids. Instead, it will be a great house for me, my boyfriend, and his adult son. 

Maybe.

For now, we wait. We get it inspected. We see how things go. But I am capable of waiting. I spent yearsss waiting. I got this. It will work out or it won't. 

Whatever happens, it won't be traumatic. I've already survived the worst.

The Last Onesies

For the first time in over 20 years, I do not own a single onesie. It's the end of an era.

I always wanted to be a mom. I dreamed about it as a kid and planned for it my whole life. Once my (now ex-) husband I started dating, I started buying onesies. I figured I wouldn't want to buy the cute, expensive onesies once the baby was here and I needed actual diapers and stuff. I had quite a collection, and then I gave them all away. 

All except for six onesies I couldn't give away. I needed to place them in the right home. 

And then I met a very cool co-worker. And I knew she would appreciate the onesies. We had a work event last week. She's out on maternity leave, but she came and brought the baby. I brought the onesies and gave them to her. I was right. She loved them. But what I didn't know is that one of the band onesies was one of her favorite bands! That was an awesome surprise. So she and I both have one of the same favorite bands. And yes, she already sent me pics of her newborn swimming in this onesie for 6-month-olds. She's excited that it's so big on him so he can wear it longer hahaha.

Didn't that work out?

Also, at the work event (it was a casual lunch), there were 4 women standing in a circle. Me, my co-worker with her baby, and two other co-workers. My co-worker asked us if we wanted to hold the baby and... All three of us said no! Hahahaha. It cracked me up. That's the largest group of women I've been in where no one wanted to hold the baby. Hahahaha. And my co-worker is cool. She didn't mind or take it personally. She was just offering. I loved it.

No more onesies for me! I don't own any. I won't be buying any. I don't want to be pregnant, and I don't want a newborn. I don't want a toddler, and I don't want a kid. My own children would be preteens and teenagers by now and that would've been fine with me. But they're not coming in this lifetime so I am living a different life. A life without onesies.

I'm glad the last 15 years are behind me. So so soooo glad.
I'm grateful for this new chapter. Hell, it's more than a chapter.
I'm grateful for this new book in the series of my life. I kicked my own ass to create it.

He's Not a Fan of Father's Day

My boyfriend hates Father's Day. Other than this blog, I don't have any social media so I didn't even realize it was Father's Day until we went mattress shopping today. The saleswoman that helped us was really nice. She asked us how we were celebrating Father's Day and told us she baked an apple pie for her husband yesterday. 

I totally didn't want to go mattress shopping this morning, but my back has hurt all week so I didn't have a choice. I had to go mattress shopping and I have to exercise. Over time, with a new mattress and a less sedentary lifestyle, I will feel better.

So will my boyfriend. Because it will no longer be Father's Day. I guess even fertile people can hate these types of holidays for any number of reasons. I don't know why my boyfriend does. He's not one to love holidays in general. Holidays can be hard. Expectations, anticipation, good memories, bad memories...

I'm living with my boyfriend's young adult son again. It's my fourth time living with him. The first three times didn't end positively, but it's okay. He was young, I'm Type A, and there were extenuating circumstances each time. We've talked about it. It's all in the past. And now we live at a fourth address together. It's our fourth town/city and our second state. 

I love my family. It looks different from how I imagined. I thought I would be raising kids. I did not raise kids. But I have my partner and his kid who is now a young man. (They grow up so fast! Haha. I laugh because he was grown when I met him. But now he is grown-grown.)

I am not a stepmom. I've heard other people call me that. A co-worker recently. One of my sisters one time. But I am not a stepmother. I didn't raise him. I wasn't around when he was being raised. I don't call him my stepson and he doesn't call me his stepmom. I'm just his dad's girlfriend that's still here, haha.

But we get along great. And over the years I got to have some maternal moments with him when I got to help him with a couple of different "adulting" type tasks. I enjoyed it. I didn't make a big deal out of it, but it was precious to me. 

I couldn't be with someone who had a kid if I didn't like their kid. I also couldn't be with someone who had a kid if they didn't put their kid first. Even when a kid isn't a minor anymore, they're still your kid. Especially in today's economy, they probably need some help.

I was definitely not interested in being with someone with a kid. But I met my boyfriend and his kid was grown and I thought I'd see how it went. And here we are. That's how it's gone. 

It's good! We are all here now. The three of us and the cats. I got a full-time job. My boyfriend and I made the move. And his son joined us several months later. It's a better spot for all of us. More jobs, better weather. We like it.

And so here I am, relaxing on the couch on Father's Day ignoring that it's Father's Day because my boyfriend hates it. His son is home upstairs in his room. The cats are napping. We are all content.

I told my boyfriend we could continue to ignore the day, but I'd make him an apple pie next year. That got a smile out of him. 

Apple pie picture and recipe found here on allrecipes.

Consideration Makes a Difference

In my short time at my new job, I've grown to really like my co-workers. All of them. Seriously. I'm having the best work experience of my life. It's long overdue and I don't take it for granted. (It's good to appreciate things while you have them because nothing lasts forever.)

My co-worker friend that was pregnant went on maternity leave a couple of weeks ago. 

(By the way, she thought we were peers and was shocked when I told her I was old enough to be her mother. Hahaha. That never gets old. I'm not glamourizing looking young because I don't even look young anymore. And I don't like promoting the idea that looking young is the ideal. I mention this because I think it's my attitude. I laugh a lot and seem genuinely happy and people assume I'm much younger than I am.)

Well, that was a digression. Anyway!

So my co-worker friend has been out on maternity leave. She texted me yesterday.

"Would you like to see a baby picture?"

Then she texted again.

"If not that's absolutely okay too"

How. Freaking. Considerate.

She just had a baby and still had the wherewithal to consider my feelings. (She knows I couldn't have kids.) And I *did* want to see a picture of the baby. I was waiting to hear he was here. At this point, I don't want to be pregnant or have a newborn (or a toddler or a kid... I'd be fine with a teenager or a young adult). It doesn't make me sad. Instead, I'm happy for my friend. I'm happy for her without being at all sad for me. (Which is a welcome change from 15 years ago!)

I texted back: "You are the freaking BEST to ask!!! And yes I want to see a picture."

She sent two. Neither of them are with her. Just him sleeping. A little man at one or two days old. 

I smiled. I zoomed in on his head of hair. I felt warm inside.

I also just found the last 5 - 6 onesies I kept. They're for a special person... They're my punk rock onesies. Some with cool prints on them. Some with funny sayings. Some with my favorite bands' names. They're all black. I haven't known anyone pregnant that would appreciate them. But I also couldn't just donate them. I collected them over a long time. They're very special to me and some of them are vintage at this point. !!!

This friend will like them. She will at least know who the bands are. So if I see her over the next month (I volunteered to come over and play with her toddler or do laundry or dishes if that would be helpful while she recovers), I'm definitely giving her these onesies. 

But how consider is that?
Asking if I wanted to see a picture of her newborn before just sending it?

And how cool is it that I wanted to see the picture? And that it made me feel good?

I love these cool changes (on my part and others') in this new life I'm living.

Quote and picture found at QuotesGram

Plan E is Enough

After not having kids, my (now ex-) husband and I came up with a Plan B. Then he didn't join me when I moved to another state even though we had been planning it together for the last 3 years. So that brought me to Plan C. I was in a new state by myself. I'm gonna consider it Plan D when, several years later, I bought my little house that I thought I'd be in forever. It was small and affordable, and I thought I could live the rest of my simple life there. But things changed and I needed to move, and that brings me to now.

I think I'm on Plan E. That's perfect. E for enough. I am enough, I've been through enough, I've done enough, and I have enough. The current plan is to do this for as long as I can. I like this chapter of my life. I appreciate my job, and I love my time at home. I've been cooking a little more and that feels good too.

I'm finally coasting. I mean, I'm working hard and resting a lot and trying to stay on top of chores and errands while also making time for sewing and hanging out with my boyfriend. But I'm not grieving or moving or looking for a job, and I am extremely thankful for that.

I still think about my childlessness. It makes my life different in ways that still surprise me.

Who knows what my life would be like if I'd had children. I only know what my life is like right now. And right now my life is good. All current events aside, I am appreciating this moment in time. (Which is, honestly, such a weird thing to do... to be currently experiencing such contrast with good times and bad times. But that's all the more reason to appreciate the good while it's good.) 

It's Sunday and I finally have some routines. Having a regular work schedule really helps. Now I do laundry and clean out the fridge on Sundays. I've started cooking some things I can eat throughout the week. It's a nice reset. I feel organized for the work week. I have food to eat and clean clothes to wear. It was a fun, restful weekend and I already look forward to next Saturday when I will order pizza, sew, and watch movies again. 

Next month we have concert tickets on a Saturday. That will be a nice break in routine. 

Everything about my kids is hypothetical. If I could've had them, they might be old enough to go to the concert with me. If they'd want to. Haha maybe their way of rebelling would be to skip the heavy metal show with their mom and go to some pop concert with a friend.

I don't think about my kids extensively. When I do think about them, they're perpetually 6 & 8 years old or maybe 8 & 10. A son and a daughter. A big brother and his little sister. They are named. But that's the extent of it really. Plus, he/she/they would be older than that by now.

Anyway! I don't have kids and it has impacted my life in every way. But I've had over a decade to process this fact, and I don't often have new thoughts about it. Childlessness is an important part of my story, but it no longer consumes me. Now I pour my energy into myself and my work, home, loved ones, cats, and hobby. Sometimes I feel sad and I feel it. Other times I feel other things and I feel those too.

I came up with a new dream for myself: create a life I want to live. And I did it.

My new dreams include quilts I want to make and exploring my new community. I want to keep getting better at my job. I look forward to making new friends here. I want to exercise and make my body stronger. I'll continue to cook and clean, and one day these tasks will feel easy and enjoyable. (They're already starting to feel enjoyable, but neither are easy yet.) 

I don't plan on ending this blog at all, but if you don't hear from me, that's what all I'm doing. 

Eat, sleep, work, sew. Eventually exercise and socialize. I love it.

In addition to being a cat mom, I also want to eventually be a plant mom too. 
(I hope those mom-centric phrases don't make you cringe too much!) 
It's another lifelong dream of mine. I'd love to have plants alive and thriving throughout my home. 
(Of course, I will look into which plants are safe to have with cats.)

 

 

 

 

A Table is not the Hearth of the Home

I'm tired of furnishing temporary places. When my boyfriend and I moved together for the first time, we knew we weren't staying there past our lease but I didn't understand why he didn't unpack his boxes. I understand now. When you know you're not staying somewhere, it doesn't make sense to totally unpack everything. And now, in addition to not unpacking, I no longer want to buy or acquire things for temporary spaces either.

I've had three homes that I thought I would be in for a long, long time. When I got married, he already had a house and I was fine living there. Then we ended up buying a house for our future children that was closer to his job. I thought we'd be there for at least a decade. Then, when I bought my own little house in a small town, I thought I'd live there forever.

Obviously, I don't live in any of those places anymore, but I'm lucky that I had them. They all felt very happy and secure at the time. Then it was time to move on from each place.

And now I am in my current rental. When I first moved in, I daydreamed about loving the place, buying it, and never moving again. But as much as I like and appreciate my rental, I don't love it. Plus, it's not for sale. Plus, I probably couldn't afford it. So that's that.

I don't have a dining room table in the rental. I gave away the one we had before we moved. We used it for eating, and I used it for sewing. It was fine, but I didn't want any furniture from my former marriage anymore. It was one less thing to move. Then, when we moved here, I bought a new table. It was necessary. It's a work table though. For my sewing machine, not for eating. 

My mom really wants me to have a dining table. She thinks it's important. But it's not important to me. (See the first sentence of this post.) She said something along the lines of, "You need a table. It's important to eat dinner together. It's where you talk about your day."

So I reminded her: "I'm not raising kids." 

"Oh," she said.

I assured her that my boyfriend and I are well aware of each other's days.

She said, "Yeah, when it's just your dad and me, we eat in the tv room a lot." My mom's inability to see my life continues to surprise me. Part of me feels hurt; part of me understands.

And I do want a table. I'm just not buying or acquiring anything for this place.