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I don’t usually sit down and review the past year when the new year is just around the corner. Instead I’m usually busy cleaning up Christmas decorations and trying to decide if I have enough energy to stay up until midnight on New Year’s Eve (not really).

This year, however, I’ve been reading through the many “Decade in Review” postings on several websites. When I realized that it was indeed the end of a decade, I decided to think about the milestones, markers and events that shaped my life over the past ten years.

The decade began with heartache as my mom was ill and my relationship with my husband-at-the-time spiraled downward. My mom passed away in September of 2000, and by January of the next year, I’d had my first restraining-order against my husband. I was grateful to many friends who helped me get on my feet with my then-baby daughter.

September of 2001 is of course marked with tragedy of the September 11 attacks. Reconciliation with my husband followed soon after, and my son was born in June of 2002. The rest of that year was fairly decent, but old demons returned in June of 2003 and I learned a big lesson: some people cannot change. By October I was on my own yet again, this time with two kids. Christmas of 2003 was to be the best ever as friends brought gifts and food to me at a time when I had no money for anything. By May of 2004, I was leaving behind everything I had in Colorado and moved to Florida to be with family and to try to start my life over. I lived the rest of that year in fear trying to stay off the radar and hide out from my husband.

In February of 2006 I decided it was time to stop living with people and trying to “survive.” I wanted a better life for me and my two little ones, so I moved to Raleigh, NC to be by my brother. He encouraged me to go back to school, so I enrolled in an online college course and completed my degree with straight A’s.

Soon I had my own job, new friends, a new church and a new lease on life. The day after my birthday in 2007, I was FINALLY able to get a divorce. 2008 was pretty good to me, sans the ever-existing issues with my ex-husband. 2009 turned difficult when tragedy struck my family, this time hitting my daughter with a life-changing event. Through prayer and the support of our church family, we recovered and found another new outlook on life. Summer of 2009 and I met my downstairs neighbor and started a wonderful and healthy dating relationship after years of intermittent dating or just being solo. Can I tell you that years of being solo S U C K S?

2000-2009 was definitely the most difficult decade of my life. Losing a parent is incredibly difficult, watching your child suffer is unbearable. But, like the saying “one day we’ll look back at this and laugh” I can say that I look back at “this” or “that” still with some sadness, but with knowing that who I am today is a stronger, better, healthier person than I could ever be.

And so I think with the closing of this old decade, I’m going to put to bed the past and tuck it in nicely. Then I’m going to turn off the lights, shut the door, and walk away.

I have so much to look forward to: the upcoming decade holds hope and excitement. My kids are getting older and they ALWAYS add so much to my life: funny times, hilarious moments, learning experiences, tender hugs. I want this decade to be better for them, too.

So see you later 2000 thru 2009.

Hello 2010. I have great things planned for you!!!

If you’re in a relationship that is unhealthy or unsafe, you can get away and you can start over. If you or someone you know needs help, contact a local law enforcement agency or check out this website for more information.

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Got this in an email from my pastor today. It was very thought provoking and helped me stop and still my thoughts for a moment. I hope it does the same for you:

Dear Church Family:

I read a devotional book each day written by Leo Tolstoy about 100 years ago.  It’s a collection of ancient wisdom.  He worked on it for years, drawing wisdom from all the major traditions, and particularly from his own as a Christian man.  I was particularly taken by the reading on December 12, so I thought I’d send along a few of the points from that day’s reading.

God bless you

Doug

—

DECEMBER 12

On Anger and Hatred

In your quiet, inner thoughts, always try to find the good in others.

Make it a habit not say anything bad about others, even in your own thoughts.

When you interact with a person, try to find as much common ground as possible, the more the better, and try to nurture this feeling in yourself.

To cease being angry with a person and instead to seek peace, forgiveness, and love toward him, remind yourself of any sins you may have in common and compare them.

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WAIT! DON’T GO!! I promise, this isn’t a blog about my perfect little angelic kids. It’s much more than that. Read on!

Ayup: I’m a single mom. I have two kids – 10 and 7. They’re great kids and I’m not just saying that because I’m their mom. They’re just mellow, chill, friendly little people. They slept through the night at 5 weeks, potty trained after a few days, never had the terrible twos, and get along rather well with each other even though they have occasional spats. But they don’t hit or bite each other and never throw tantrums. I’m truly blessed to have such great kids. They aren’t perfect though: my daughter has a drama streak in her that tells me she’ll likely win an Oscar before she’s 20. My son feels the need to police what all of the other children do, so I’m guessing a career in law enforcement is on his horizon.

I’ve been a ’single’ parent ever since my daughter (the 10 year old) was born. Even though I was married, I was alone the whole ride from all the doctor’s appointments and sonograms to the scary pre-term labor stints at the ER. As a matter of fact, it was during one of those ER trips – hooked up to IVs and heart rate monitors – that I realized my then-husband was a word I’d rather not use here. I’ll never forget the day he said to me “If you want so much attention, get a puppy.”

It was a few short months later that his true colors surfaced and I realized I’d married an abusive alcoholic. I was cut off from my family and friends, not allowed to have anyone over and my phone calls were monitored. I was working but barely made enough to cover the bills. His money went to buy vodka and cigars. Eventually I couldn’t keep up with my own car-payment and my car was repo’d and I was literally at his mercy to go anywhere or do anything.

I’ll keep a long story short so I don’t bore you with all the scary details. Let’s just say I’m surprised my life hasn’t been turned into a Lifetime Movie of the Week yet.

Yep, there were frightening times when I thought maybe I was going to die. But there were times of victory, too, like when I finally got a job waiting tables and saved enough money to move into my own little section 8 townhouse, two kids in tow. They shared a room and I slept on the couch, but oh the sweet bliss of not having to be afraid or upset when I went to bed!

I’m the mom who found bags of groceries by the front door and money in the mail to pay for electricity. I’m the mom who went to bed on Christmas Eve crying because I had no cookies or gifts for my little ones, only to be woken up by wonderful and amazing friends bearing BAGS of gifts, clothes and food for my children.

I’m the mom who left everything behind and took my two little children and left the state in a move of secrecy to get away from what was an increasingly volatile situation with my at-the-time husband. We lived in a little 5th wheel trailer in my uncle’s backyard, the two kids and I sleeping in a tiny bed together.

We eventually moved up to sleeping on a blow-up mattress in a garage, then sharing a room in a house, and eventually moving to Raleigh to live with my brother.

And now, 6 years later, I have my own place (my own bed!). The kids FINALLY each have their own bedrooms after moving again and again. We’ve been at the same school for three years, the same church. I’ve been trying to establish roots for my kids, security, stability, routine. So far so good.

I finally got a divorce a few years ago when a family member paid for an attorney so I could get custody of the kids. Last Christmas the kids flew out to Colorado to see their dad for the first time after 5 years. He finally started paying child support a year ago – almost consistently – until last month.

Last night he called me in a fury: he’d been arrested for not paying child support, for being in contempt of court (he won’t provide his employment information to the county).

The funny thing? It’s all MY fault that he’s suffering so much, and I need to close the child support case so they leave him alone (and of course he’ll still send me child support every month). If I don’t do this, then he’s flying to North Carolina to file for full custody.

Sure, no big deal. If you are reading this you are probably scoffing like I did.

But I’ve gone down a rabbit trail. I was telling you about my great kids: my kids who every Christmas, every birthday know that they won’t get the latest and greatest toy, they may get one or two little things but they never hold their breath. We see cool stuff at the store and they say things like “Hey this is sooooo cool! I wish I could have it!!!” Only to follow-up with a statement like “Oh, it’s too expensive. We probably can’t have it.”

Never snotty, never hateful, just resigned to the fact that our life is like “this.” They don’t complain when their pants get too small and ride up at the ankles, or when they have PB&J sandwiches for weeks on end for lunch, or Hamburger Helper for dinner again.

They didn’t complain when their dad gave them a Wii and an Xbox the day after Thanksgiving but said they had to leave them in Colorado. Instead they appreciate the fact they finally have one (I guess I’m the only one who thinks that was super mean to do to them…).

I’ve done my best to never say anything bad about their dad in front of them or to them. I make excuses for why he doesn’t send birthday cards or gifts, or why he never calls or writes or emails.

Yeah, it kills me to hear the kids say life is better at dad’s house where they have all this nice stuff like clothes that fit and a parent who is home all the time, and video games, and flat-screen tvs, and a cooler car.

But then they hug ME and say that those things don’t really matter in the long run, as long as we are together. *sniffle*

So, do you know a single mom? Kids of a single mom? Chances are they’ve all had a rough go at things. They are probably having a rough go at things right this minute. Maybe. Then again, you’ve got single moms who don’t sit around complaining all day and get up and get out there and try to make it better for themselves, for their kids.

We sacrifice as much as a married mom does, and sometimes a lot more. Our kids sacrifice too, and learn that life is just different for them without a dad around.

Sure, my case is extreme. My kids’ dad lives a billion miles away, not up the street. I have my brother to rely and count on (and oh is he ever there for us) but he only has so much he can give to.

It’s pretty much up to ME to continue to give the kids what they need most, and that is the character, integrity and strength to be good people even when in the face of adversity. To make good choices no matter how difficult that may be. To understand that not having the latest and greatest doesn’t make you a nerd or a loser, but makes you appreciate life so much more.

So yeah, this year I’d like to award my kids medals for being amazing, resilient, loving, gracious. And they’re damn funny, too. I’m taking consolation in this during the times I feel like the world’s lamest mom when I’m too tired to read a book at bedtime, don’t have a spare minute to cut the edges off a PB&J sandwich, or to build a lego castle. Cause I know my kids are going to be a-okay. Even if I feel like we’re not.

***If you or someone you know is a victim of domestic violence, GET HELP! Contact your local law enforcement agency, department of social services, or check out this site for more information: http://www.ncadv.org/protectyourself/GettingHelp.php

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I like to laugh. Who doesn’t?

Way back in junior high school, I realized that making people laugh by making funny jokes and comments really got me up higher on the popularity list. Don’t think I’m shallow: you KNOW how kids can be in jr and sr high. Being popular pretty much meant you were just made fun of way less than the not-so-popular kids.

It took me a while to refine my humor from lame funny comments to true snarkasm: snarky and sarcastic responses. Going over my old blog and some of my new posts, I’m realizing that I’ve come a long way from delving into more serious matters of the heart and of life and typically cover up any and all seriousness with sarcastic and cynical comments.

Not too long ago, I found a poem I’d written for my grandmother. She died in 1984 from liver cancer. I wrote it in 1992 on a day I must have been feeling particularly inspired because it was one of several poems I’d written that day. Rereading it I was surprised at how blunt and honest I was about my feelings and how the loss still impacted me so many years later. I wanted to chide the 18-year old me for being so melodramatic but stopped myself as I realized the importance of the entire emotional spectrum, even if its the kind of emotions that result in people saying you are dramatic or over emotional.

Oddly enough, my ten year old daughter is just that: her picture is actually in the dictionary next to the words “drama queen.” How many times have I scolded her for being “too dramatic” or “overly emotional” about something? Too many times I’m starting to think. Granted, all prepubescent girls (and boys!) experience their emotions much more intensely than we do. But my daughter… well she feels things with her whole heart. When a close friend of the family died, she cried as we expected (I did too) but she took things a step farther: she lamented and imagined that perhaps in a dream she could say goodbye to this person, and she recounted to me how she would do so. She was very upset about the fact that she had seen our friend only days before his sudden death but didn’t run up to him to get a hug like she usually would have.

I tried to be matter-of-fact with her, not so much to stop her from being over dramatic, but mostly because I wanted to shorten the grieving process for her. So guess what I did? I made a joke. I said if our friend saw her crying so much and being so sad, he’d likely give her a noogie and tell her to move on with life.

In reality, we both grieved just as much but with different expressions: I made the jokes and tried to lighten the mood and kept my emotions in check, she cried and shared her feelings with anyone willing to listen. She even wrote our friend’s wife a beautiful letter declaring her undying love for our friend and how he would never be forgotten.

Sweet girl. She reminds me of Montgomery’s Anne Shirley.

So what’s my point? Well, I guess I’m going to have to allow the sentimental, emotional (dare I say girly?)  part of me to come out and write a little bit once in a while.  I may not be sending out any poems any time soon, but I will find some time to share with you a bit of what I’ve experienced in life.

But I guarantee I’ll STILL find a way to sneak some sarcasm in there. Seriously.

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