Handle with Care

I cannot get really close to other people's children. The first two times I learned this lesson it hurt really bad. Now I'm learning it for a third time. It sucks, but it's softened because of my previous experience. I can enjoy others' kids, but they'll never be mine. They will never think to call me with good news. They will never think to call me with bad news. They will never think to call me.

Part of this is sad. Part of this is reality. It's just the way it is.

The first time I got hurt was a long time ago. I had just stopped trying to conceive, sold my children's house, and gone back to school. I wasn't invited to a friend's kid's 6th birthday party when I had been invited to everything else previously. I had already bought the birthday presents. Then I saw the pictures of the birthday party on social media. I wasn't invited. I was crushed.

The second time I got hurt was by my niece. It only happened two years ago. She's grown. An adult. But she was mean to me. So unnecessarily mean. I was blindsided. I never wrote about it and probably never will. Maybe I shouldn't have assumed we were as close as I thought we were, but I did. Not anymore. Now I know. Being an aunt doesn't guarantee an awesome relationship.

And, most recently, another person was in my life that I really cared about. Someone else's kid. Everything seemed fine until last week. Now I don't know what was real and what was fake. I choose to hold on to my good memories. I give myself grace while I process the rest.

It's okay to love people. It's important to love people. But love makes us vulnerable, and sometimes we get hurt. We feel our feelings, learn our lessons, get back up, and go on.

I'm not mad at myself for being sensitive, but I want to be more careful with myself in the future.

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 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 hearing about a loved one and their young adult kid, that my children will never do dumb shit and/or break my heart. My kids are not here. My heartbreak comes from not having them.

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 merely maintain for the winter.

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.