2016

2016.

The year all the celebrities died and Donald Trump was elected President.

2016 was a year I was glad to see go. It was a year full of stress and grudges and breakdowns.
Every year I write a Christmas letter that gets sent to a few friends and family, and I sometimes find it hard to bridge the gap between honesty and good impressions.
If you read our Christmas letter you will see that the store is doing well, Anthony is done school, I made a ton of costumes, we took a few trips and Toby continues to enjoy homeschooling.
If you look at my Facebook over the last year you will see beach trips and birthdays and smiles.

But Facebook and Christmas letters only give you a split second out of a bigger reality.

This photo, for example, wasn't taken because we were having a great time outside. it was taken because Toby hadn't set foot outside in months because of his anxiety of how bulky his outdoor clothes feel, and wonder of wonders one day he decided we'd try the new coat. This was documenting that we made it outside but it was amid complaints and whining, which consumed my winter.

In February I started seeing a councillor for my still un-officially-diagnosed depression. I was hoping to find an 'in' somewhere so I could bring Toby with me to begin the process of trying to get him assessed for Aspergers and SPD. Instead I spent months going by myself and venting about the violent dreams/daydreams I was having towards family members and how miserable I was as a parent.
This photo was taken on a miserable day for both Toby and I, where I somehow convinced him to come outside with me, and we just sat on the bridge doing nothing for a long time.

This video that Shannon and I made was filmed on Mother's Day. Two days prior to that Anthony and I nearly ended our relationship and at this point we were still discussing the logistics of him moving out.
This video took my mind off of it for a few hours.

This was a summer project that made me almost want to quit the theatre industry.
This prop making project was rewarding, but being asked to do several other jobs beyond my expertise on top of this made for some very late, very teary nights.
This particular night involved an exploding champagne bottle, an emergency cleaning of my kitchen, a complete mental breakdown, and needing to be bailed out by friends and family.

Yes, 2016 was a year that I would like to put behind me.

But on December 31st at 9:25 pm I heard uncontrollable sobbing coming from Toby's room.
I went in and asked what was wrong and got a muffled scream of "I don't WANT it to be 2017! I want it to stay 2016 forever!"
My first reaction was to come back with how awful 2016 was, but quickly caught myself.
I wanted to say how silly that was, but caught myself again.
In Toby's world, none of the news media or my personal problems existed.

In Toby's world this was a year where:

He got to go to the Aquarium and finally see the sea turtle. It didn't matter that Anthony and I were dancing around each other the whole time, unsure of whether our relationship existed or not.

He got a new bike. It didn't matter that it was at the end of a very stressful week of sewing for me.

We spent more days at the beach this summer than usual. It didn't matter that I was often sick or tired when we went.

We got to see Joseph twice. It didn't matter that the previous 6 months had been a nightmare of costume deadlines and ignoring Toby because of this very thing.

We visited Stratford, Toronto, and Sudbury.
We had Birthdays.
We had just come to the end of a week of Christmases, food, and friends.

And so how could I just tell Toby, who has always had a hard time with transitions, that this year was finally due to be gone.

I rubbed his back and told him that we didn't have to call it 2017, we could call it 2016.1.
I told him that it was just like a Minecraft update, you get some fixes and surprises, but the previous edition doesn't change.
I asked him if he felt any different when he turned 8, and that this is the same - it's just another day.
I asked him what his favourite parts of 2016 were.
Even though he didn't want to answer me I asked what he was looking forward to about 2017.
I told him I was most looking forward to the spring thaw so then the squirrels would finally move out of the attic. He laughed at that and we talked about some Lego sets he was looking forward to seeing the release of.

2017 is going to be a year of just taking an extra breath.
I want to pay more attention to myself.
I don't want to be afraid to say no to people.
I want to minimize the chaos on my house, both visually and emotionally.
I want to assert my needs more than I've been accustomed to.
I want to re-build.

I hope everyone has a good 2017.
Take too many pictures.
Have too much fun.
And take time for one extra breath.

Single-ish

Single-ish.... that limbo state of knowing you're in a relationship, but it's still kinda new and it's not actually legally recognized as a relationship.
I've become very used to being single. Some things maybe have been easier, but most things were definitely suckier. I've resented, but become used to, being a 'single mom'.

I saw a post in a group a while ago about a woman going through the transition of being in a new relationship after 5 years single, but still identifying as a 'single mom' and wondering when it's appropriate to start admitting you're not.

It's a good question. Because legally you're single until you're married. Some said it wasn't until they were married to their new partner that they felt they could say they weren't single. Others suggested that they didn't feel 'not single' until they and their new partner had a kid together, regardless of if they were married or not.
It's a complicated feeling: knowing you're happy and 'not single', but still having this voice inside warning you about becoming too attached. Everyone can be happy and getting along, but you still know somewhere inside that you're still a single mom.

And maybe that's just how will always be. You and this kid have a history that even the best partner won't really be a part of. The future may look great, but it's still only your kid.

It's interesting being in a position to choose the person that you want to help you raise your child. You think you're doing that when you get married before kids, but having a kid can change everything. So many things I'd said I'd do/wouldn't do have changed drastically based on experience and further reading. I've seen for myself relationships that become rocky after having children because of differing views that you thought you could compromise on, but now can't. It can be hard.

In some ways having a new person around is even harder than having no one.
You're trying to keep things normal while your kid is being a maniac and showing off everything he knows how to do. Outings, meal times, bed time, breakfast time are all now accompanied by these bi-polaresque mood swings that go from fun to nightmarish in a matter of seconds. Not that this didn't ever happen before, but it just seems amplified now. It's hard just wanting to spend time with your partner while the child demands all the attention.
Which is what parenting is, right? That's what happens. Just usually you get a few child-free years together before that.

It's hard because part of you assumes that this new person will just fit in to your parenting style and know what to do because YOU know what to do. But in reality they have to do what you did year ago... give up everything and learn from the beginning. Which can't be easy for them either.

But then, the fact that they've chosen to do this speaks volumes.

Because you know how shitty the shitty days are. You know how loud and stubborn and messy your child can be.
And yet, they stick around. On purpose. Even though those are the days that you yourself want to run away.
Which is nice, because having someone there to share the crap burden, as well as the fun times, makes you feel like you're part of something.

Love ought to be shared. I love having someone else to share it with.

I'm not single, but I think I'll still feel single-ish for a while. Which is ok. Those four and a half years made me into who I am right now and they don't deserve to be forgotten.

Wordless Wednesday: Things I Like Right Now

So Much Cooler Online

So, you may remember from previous posts that at one point in time I was writing a book. A book about how much parenting and depression sucks, and how sometimes, that's just ok. I"ve been saving up thoughts and feelings from that book because I felt like talking about stuff I'd already written would mean I was repeating myself. However, at this point I feel like the 2/3 finished manuscript has served it's purpose as a therapy project and probably won't find it's way to completion because reading and re-reading it dredges up too many feels, and the point of writing was to make the feels go away.

So anyway, now I'm free to ramble about things that I've 'previously' rambled about, just nobody's read it, and I'm adding new voice. Today: the stupidity and genius of online dating.

The brief genius of it is that, as a busy person trapped at home, it's a way to meet people. Not necessarily romantically, just in general. Some great friends have been spawned from the online world.

The stupidity of it is, 95% of potential people won't look at you twice if you have a kid (and who can blame them, really), and 4% who don't mind if you do and message you, sometimes incessantly, you have no attraction to. And then the 1% where there is mutual 'like', usually results in the person moving very far away a month later, dating someone who 'came back into their life' a month later, or they live half way around the world and you really have no hope of meeting them.

And you go through the withdrawal of having a reason the check your email, but after that passes, there's a small bit of relief.
"Good, I didn't have to turn my life upside down"
"Good, I can go to bed on time now and not be up late talking."
"Good, I don't have to deal with THAT inevitable heartbreak."
"Good, I don't have to worry about re-scheduling the third Saturday from next week."

Because the reality of my situation is, I"m not just 'seeking' someone to spend time with. I'm also approving a  'dad' for Toby. There are people who I've talked myself into talking to, only to realize, what's the point?
And in a way it's disheartening because I'm sure there's some really interesting people I've missed out on talking to, but in another way, it's good. It's a standards filter for me.
Less than 4 sentences about yourself and I find more than 2 obvious spelling errors? Pass.
The one picture of you on your page is you holding a beer and a cigarette even though you checked off "non-smoker"? Nope.
The words '4 lyfe', 420, booze, partaaaaay, sick, or similar variations of each appear in your interests or description? Hell no.
You start a conversation with me and then proceed to give two word answers with two day spaces between them? Not worth my time.
Your first message is to ask what I'm doing this weekend? Um...Creepy.

So, I'm sorry to those people with names like 2_gud_lookin or lust4u or like2laff, but does that really work on some people???

I feel like the whole thing is futile but, while I'm not actively searching, it sometimes feels like it's my only connection to people outside my facebook bubble. It forces me to deal with people that I would never normally talk to. And sometimes that's good, and sometimes it's intimidating, and sometimes I just want to put my walls up again because the whole thing suddenly scares me.
Because I know what it feels like to 'think you've met someone'. And each of those times there's been a sudden stopping point, sometimes before you even get to talk in person. So learning to not assume the best and brightest in people has become a quick lesson to learn. Which in turn makes it harder to trust anyone, or your own feelings.

I like to think I haven't been too damaged by the last 4 or so years, because I currently feel fine. But like I said in an earlier post, once those dormant little 'on' switches start clicking on in your head, the first reaction is to panic and shut them off again.

So talking to random strangers has been a good test of that and a bit of an eye opener.

My tact at this point? Open with the dullest and most complicated parts about your life, and if they carry on the conversation, you're good to go.

"Hi, I have a 4 year old who sleeps in the same room as me because I live at my parent's place because I'm divorced. I can't go out after 7pm because my son goes to bed at 8, and likewise if I'm out I have to be home by 7:30 to get him to bed. I like Doctor Who, Harry Potter, Glee, and youtube videos. When I say 'like' I mean those things basically make up my life right now. My idea of a fun friday night is sitting at home with a glass of wine and making fun of online dating profiles. I cook weird stuff, if you don't like food, don't talk to me. We have food intolerances that I take very seriously, if you mock that sort of thing, get out. Yes I want to go backpacking in Europe, but I'm not going to, because I have a 4 year old. I read for fun. I write for fun.  My family owns almost all the episodes of Star Trek. In all series. And the Star Wars saga. No I won't watch scary movies with you, not even if you think you're protecting me. No I won't drive to Toronto to see 'this awesome band'. My days mostly consist of me sitting on the floor or the grass or the couch and going along with whatever game my son comes up with. Did I mention I have a kid?"

Forgetting Love

Is it possible to forget what love feels like? All melodramatics aside, is it possible for your brain to rewire itself to be so used to the absence of love that it forgets what the big deal was?

I find lately that listening to songs and watching movies has little emotional effect on me unless it has to do with kids. Even commercials.

I've started noticing, in the last few days even, that songs that I used to love and had meaning for me, just leave me bored now. I hear people talk about their husbands or boyfriends and poke fun and complain, and my initial reaction (though I never say it aloud) is 'then why are you still together?'.
And of course the answer would be "because we're in love", but it takes me a few minutes to try and remember that feeling.
I remember at one time thinking the words "I've never been happier", but I can't remember the feeling associated with those words. I can't remember what it feels like to know there is a solid foundation under your feet and trusting that it will always be there.

And when I say 'Love', I guess I really mean being loved. Because you can have crushes and you can ache from the inside out over the thought of a person, and maybe you know them and maybe they're unattainable like a celebrity, but it's not mutual, and it's not real. In turn you can know that someone likes you, but you don't feel anything back.

You can be loved by family, but that's usually a given.
You can love and be loved by your kids, but that's maternal instinct.
But relationship love - the kind you have to find and build and believe in - there's something about the absence of that that can leave this space in your life that you really don't know what to do with. Especially knowing that at one point you knew what it felt like, even if you can't remember it now.

There's this ongoing urge to fill that void, but at the same time I don't feel like there's room. I don't have time to waste with people I don't want to talk to. I don't have time to explain my story over and over again. I don't have time to juggle someone else in my life.

But maybe I've just forgotten how. Maybe when it's right it won't feel like work.

I found a journal in my room dating from 2007 to 2010 completely filled with love and hate and anguish and rage and turmoil and all kinds of things that I had forgotten. Things that physically hurt to read. Things that I had to stop reading because I didn't want to be reminded. But I kept using the L word and kept stating that I wished I could just turn it off. And now that it's 4 years later (maybe 5 if I'm being honest) and I have managed to 'turn it off' I don't know if I know where the on switch is again. And I'm afraid that when I do find it, it will be too familiar and I'll need to shut it off again.

Maybe I over think things. Maybe being analytical and wanting to plan my life beyond next week is my whole problem. I'm just tired of feeling like I'm missing out on something. Like the inside joke or the latest news or gossip that everyone seems to know and you hear whispers of it, but you don't really get it. You don't get it because your mind has tuned it out, and it feels like the further removed you become, the harder it is to tune back in.

Identity Crisis

Well...The divorce is final. All the chocolate in the advent calendar has been eaten. And instead of being relieved, or even sad, I'm just kind of....lost.

I've always been "Erin Hawke". I'd say my name at the bank or for a mailing list or at school and people look up and go, "Oh, are you you Julie and David's daughter?" or "Hawke, as in John?" or "Oh yeah, Shannon's sister right?"

At times it was eye-roll worthy and embarrassing, but then there started to be a sense of pride surrounding it. People knew who I was, or at the very least, that I existed.

And then when I got married I was torn between changing my name or keeping my maiden name. I had always said I'd change it, just when it actually came time I felt like I was giving up part of myself. I decided to wait until after college graduation so I had 'my' name on my diploma, and then I'd change it.
Then I got a job right away and all my paperwork had been processed with my maiden name on it. So ok fine, I'll wait until I'm settled here before I do.
Then when we got pregnant I knew it had to be done. I wanted the same last name as my kids. I had been putting it off for two years.
I changed all my documents... I even sacrificed my red and white health card.

And two months later we broke up.

I felt disconnected from everything. I had this name on all these cards that didn't look like mine. I was growing a baby that I suddenly just wanted to run away from.

Eventually I perfected my new signature and didn't have to pause and think every time someone asked my name. Eventually I came to terms with it being "Toby's" last name and not "Luke's" last name.

Then a few weeks ago while initialing my time sheet at work I wrote 'EH' instead of 'ES'. I had closed the book and moved on before I thought to take a second look. My absent minded brain had written E H after years of not even thinking about it.

And now it comes down to the fact that I COULD change my name back.... but should I?

My reason for changing my name to begin with was mostly to have the same last name as my kids. But now if I were to get married and have another kid, it would be weird to keep my ex's name, but changing it would mean being different again.
I still have this strong desire for Toby and I to be the same... but now I also feel like I'm hanging on to something that isn't mine anymore. I'm living with my parents but don't really feel like I 'belong' to them...but now that things are official I also don't feel like I 'belong' with my in-laws either... I'm in this awkward limbo where I don't feel like either choice is better...

So what do I do?
Who do I be?
Where do I really go from here?

I'm not really sure yet...

And Then It Hits You...

I know that through this break-up/single mom business I've been lucky. I've said it before. But it still sucks. It sucks a lot because it's not what I want. This is not where I planned to be at this point in my life. I spend a lot of time regretting the things I could be doing right now.

And then today a woman came in the store and started quietly looking around for a long...long time. I asked if she needed a hand and she shook her head, gently moving the wires from the ear buds the had in. Ooooook fine, I'll go back to doing other stuff.
She'd carry something all the way around the store then put it back and carry something else around the store. I wasn't really 'watching' her for shoplifting, but it was also starting to get awkward. She finally put a couple things on the counter and asked me to hold them for a second while she looked for something for her son. I said sure. She said it was her daughter's birthday, but she wanted something small for her 3 year old because he wouldn't understand-" and I chuckled a bit, and then she finished with "-that it's probably the last time I'll see them."
I regretted laughing. Usually people finish that sentence with an eye roll and a shrug about how they need something so its fair to the little one too.
She walked across the store and I re-directed her to toys I knew Toby would like. She picked one of them.
She said she was sorry for muttering about how expensive everything is, but for a single mom it is. I said I was a single mom too, and yes toys are generally expensive.
She softened a bit after that and asked what kind of things Toby was into. She asked if I liked working here. She asked if Toby liked coming in here.
She told me briefly of the problems she's having with the dad.
She told her her kids are in foster care and she's still fighting for them, but it's probably the last time she'll see them.
I gift wrapped her purchases and wished her luck.
She left and I went to go back to typing and realized how much my hands were shaking. The tears followed shortly after. Well crap, I still have to have the store open for another hour, pull it together.

I know I'm lucky... but... I'm Lucky.

Luke, I know you'll never read this, but thank you for being understanding and 'kind' throughout this.
Sabrina, Thank you for not being completely crazy, and for eventually realizing that I'm not crazy either.
Jeff and Sarah, thank you for being a giant ear to my many ramblings. And honestly if not for all this we still probably would not be talking much.
My parents, thank you for allowing there to be a roof over our heads and food in the fridge.
The rest of my family and friends, in-laws included, thank you for being nothing but supportive and generous for the last 4 years.
And Toby, thank you for all of your hugs and kisses and good morning 'I love yous', and for trying to be one of the best kids I've ever met.

Going Alone

I've posted before about phrases that just make me stop for a minute and go... 'Yeah... that's right'.
And although sometimes interpreted differently than the work intended, I always find it interesting when a set of words bounces off the page and slaps me in the face.

I'm reading Adventures in Colour by Dave ORNJ Graham (most of you are from PSCI and know the awesomeness that is him, and if not, he's probably one of the nicest people you will meet and had I been placed in one of his math classes I might have actually done better in that subject.)

There is a small chapter that features the debate of going to an event by yourself, versus skipping out because there's no one to go with. Firstly this chapter caught my attention because it's about theatre, and I have, very uncharacteristically, gone to several plays in Stratford solo in the last two years. I like being able to go with someone so I can poke the person next to me and whisper something about the costumes or the music. I like being able to talk afterwards and know that the person was there with me and saw the same thing I did. I don't like going to the theatre alone because I'm crammed between two couples who take up the arm rests and the foot room and I sit very tightly in the middle trying very hard not to make body contact.
But, Stratford is my second home. And there's only so long I can stay away from the theatre.

But the second thing that caught my attention was this phrase (and I hope Ornj doesn't mind that I'm quoting him):
"I talk to people all the time [...] about making the most of the opportunities that our adventures present to us...and there I was, ready to pass on today's potential because I didn't want to experience it alone??"

This, right here, is my problem.

I'm afraid to move on - to move forward - because I don't want to do it alone.
While I'm not 'hunting' for someone, I'm also dawdling in the background, waiting for someone to notice I'm still here. I don't want to move forward because that will mean another year has gone by, more experiences have presented themselves, and it's still just me and Toby... living at my parent's.
I'd like to be able to have someone to tell the day's story to. My parents listen, but they have their own lives to lead. It's not the same.
I'd like to have another kid, ideally in the next couple years, but that is entirely dependent on what the Universe throws at me.
I like planning ahead.
I don't like waiting when I don't know what I'm waiting for.

But.

There's this slow wake-up call forming somewhere....asking if it's really a relationship I want, or just permission to get on with my life.
I need to stop 'Saving the zoo trip for when there's someone to go with'. JUST GO.
I need to stop thinking 'Oh, well I was saving visiting that restaurant for when I was with so-and-so, but we haven't talked in a while'. WHO CARES.

There's so many things boggling my brain, and 90% of them to do with how to calm a raging toddler, that I just keep putting things on hold because it's easier to miss out on the play-date or the dinner than it is to make the effort to have fun.

So, here is my internet-public-metaphorical-whatever step in the direction of sucking it up, moving ahead, and doing this alone.
I'll do it forever if I have to.
You hear that, Universe??
Toby and I have a routine, and that routine is him and me.
And 'him and me' are going to take every opportunity that comes our way.
And Universe, if you now decide to throw a guy my way, make sure that he's the most genuine guy you've got left. He has to like love kids. He has to be tolerant of MY kid. Loves of music, books and art are key. He has to be patient. He had to have opinions, but without being an ass about it. Not being afraid to try new things/foods is important, but not to the extent of dragging me on bungee cord missions. Honesty is huge. Respect is major.
Have I described the impossible?? Well, Universe, you've got time. I'm allowing it.

I am here, and here I am. I am steering this adventure out of the rut I've created and am going to take more opportunities and live more freely.

So there.

Fear of Commitment

I don't think I've always had a fear of commitment. Not just in relationships, but in everyday decisions.
 If I order something at a restaurant, and then think I might change my mind, I don't call the waitress back and bother them to change my order... I live with the decision I made.
I haven't had a lot of true relationships with guys in my life but, however 'high school' the relationship was, it usually lasted close to a year.
I've always known I wanted to be with someone and get married and own a home.
Ever since that was pulled away from me I've denied that I've had commitment issues. I kept saying that I just wasn't ready to let it go.
But now, even though I feel I've moved past a lot of feelings, I still find that I push people away unnecessarily. I'll look forward to meeting someone, have a lovely conversation, and then on the drive home I pick out all the things that were wrong with them and decide that I can't live with them for the rest of my life. Sometimes it's justified. Other times I feel like it's a defense mechanism.
Usually it's stupid things like 'They like different music than I do', 'I didn't get to read a menu because they kept talking to me', 'He was an inch shorter than I thought he'd be'.
Other times they loudly voice opinions on parenting techniques and give me 'advice'.....no thanks.

Is it a fear of commitment, or just a matter of not finding someone I click with? Shouldn't I give people more of a chance?

Commitments at home aren't going well either. I think I do pretty well to stick to my guns as far as discipline strategies, but the thing I can't stand that Toby still does is nurse to sleep. I'm getting to the point where I greatly dislike breastfeeding. It hurts my back and my neck and my shoulders to lie beside him in bed when he  takes half an hour to decide if he wants to sleep or not. I've said on several occasions in the last year that I don't like doing it and that he can hold my hand and cuddle, or i can leave him alone to sleep by himself.
It just results in a lot of screaming instead of sleeping. On both parts. From the beginning I've always rathered him to be comforted to sleep rather than lie there and cry. I tried to ignore him on a couple of occasions, and he just wakes himself up more instead of wearing himself out and then takes twice as long for me to calm him down again. Now that he's old enough for words he just screams for me to come back and that he please please just wants to nurse, and if he really isn't happy he just gets out of bed and runs away.

And so is it a fear of traumatizing my son for bedtime, or a fear of committing to what I say I'll do?

I've been saying I'm going to start a business for ages, but then I can't commit to it because, like, what if it's successful? Then I'll have to, like, keep up with it.

I can't even commit to going to bed when I say I"m going to... I got out of bed to turn my computer off... and there I am an hour later typing my brains out lol.

Ok... NOW I'm going to bed.... maybe....

Jealousy and Acceptance

The relationship between Toby and my dad sometimes makes me jealous.

When Toby was smaller we had a hard time with my dad even walking through a room without Toby attaching himself to his leg or something and screaming blue murder when he was just passing through. I felt bad that my dad couldn't get anything done and felt bad that Toby didn't understand why the world didn't revolve around him.

I had to limit their time together because certain disciplinary things or behavioral things I was trying to do didn't always get upheld. And yes, there's the cheeky shirts you can get that state "What happens at Grampa's stays at Grampa's" but when this is our home too and it's daily, not just once on a weekend visit, I try to keep things as consistent as possible. 

Toby is better now with the separation and so they play together more.

But now Toby has decided that Grampa is hero, and mom sucks.

When I'm in the middle of explaining why we cant watch anymore TV and Grampa walks through the room, Toby runs to him and Grampa picks him up and they have happy talk.

When I'm trying to convince Toby to go to bed and he's in tears in protest, clearly indicating he's overtired, Grampa walks in and Toby runs to him and they happily go brush teeth.
I have become Mom. I have become the bringer of bedtime and the washer of hair.
I'm not the cool rescuer.

And all of this has made me realize...

...how glad I am to be doing this single.

I can avoid my dad if I wanted to... I wouldn't be able to avoid a partner.

The only thing keeping me from opening my mouth sometimes is that ultimately I have the control and the last word on things.

And maybe in a relationship things would have been fine and blah blah blah, but now I don't HAVE to share Toby. I'm not sitting in a corner being jealous that Toby is better behaved for my partner, because it's excusable to be angelic for a grandparent.

I'm allowed to be mildly annoyed at my dad, but I wouldnt want to feel that way towards someone I was with.

...I'm searching for a 'poetic' way to end this but it's late and my bran is mush... so here is how I spent my Valentines day:

Made chocolates

 Hung out with a turtle and some horses

 Built a snow castle 

 With the love of my life