unlike the first 48, this is the last 48 . . .
The last 48 hours have been a nonstop whirlwind of holidays and family. All of which is great, but also so very exhausting. To top it off I am on day four of a head cold that has me sneezing like a . . I don’t know, someone very allergic to something, and a throbbing nose of congestion. It. Is. Awesome.
It has been 48 hours of different. This is the first holiday, sans Thanksgiving that we don’t really celebrate anyway, that I have been alone, one mom vs. two children and all of the families and all of the events and meals and entertainment and things. I can handle being mom – don’t get that twisted – that’s my job, I was created for this, I truly believe my best work is them, my best job is them, and they reflect my greatest abilities at teaching and coaching and mentoring and loving; however, is is hard when it is you vs. them nonstop, for 3 days.
I have always been in charge of all of the gifts at every house, all of the food, how much we need and where, so that hasn’t changed – but I often times have had someone else to help heard the crowd, make a plate of food, brush teeth, take over if I needed a time out, etc. and I don’t get that anymore. I don’t have that anymore.
*Now another thing to not get twisted, I was surrounded by family that did help and would help in a heart beat should I ask, but here’s the deal – it’s my job, they’re my kids, I am their mom. And we all know, no one can hug like mom, make a boo-boo better like mom, or fix your plate, cut your fruit, or cover you up, like mom. So while I was around helpers and people willing, I don’t ask it of them, and my kids (littlest especially) often refuse the help, unless it’s from mom. (we’re working on that)*
So back to the story – I am just tired. We’ve driven from Blue Springs to California (Missouri) and back and then the next day to Butler and back – we’ve been in the car for hours and watched The Greatest Showman twice and way too many episodes of Peppa Pig. I’ve handed tissues back and water, and snacks, and asked the oldest to help give the littlest something and said ‘play nice’ and ‘don’t touch each other’ and ‘let her help you,’ way more than I would like to admit in the last 48.
Last night I went to bed in my parents home, with my 3 year old, but alone.
I woke up Christmas morning and celebrated our first major holiday/event, alone.
The girls were fine. I was worried about them, the oldest especially, as she was struggling with how the holidays would look – she was able to see they’ll look find and didn’t stress or let me know she was anything but happy during our short day of a holiday we got together. And in the moment there was no time for me to be anything but happy. I was opening all the toys and doing all of the new things while just enjoying being in the presence of my children. Really being there and in it with them.
But now . . . now that I look back. Now that I have time. Now that it’s all over, finally, I am alone. Again. And it can sink in. And it can be sad.
It’s NYE and I will ring it in, alone. BY CHOICE, as I’ve been asked to do things, there are options, but if I’m honest with myself . . . I don’t really drink heavy and can’t hang, I don’t like being around drunks who can hang, it’s cold, I don’t feel well (at all), people are stupid, and I can be asleep by 10 in my own bed which is what my body really needs.
But I’m alone.
For the first time in almost 15 years I will ring in the New Year, alone. I could tell you on one hand how many times we ever ‘went out’ and did anything . . . #kids . . . there were a few years I would be in bed before midnight even, but the fact that I was waking up next to someone made the going to bed before midnight worth it and okay and not even as weird as it could be this year.
I am okay with being alone. I’m getting there anyway. It’s hard to tell with the amount of times that word alone has been used in this entry. I think alone is linked with lonely and that, that is what the killer is. The loneliness is where the sadness comes in, the reminiscing, the missing, the tears.
I think ringing in the New Year at home is a huge reflection of where I put my most effort, where I put most of my work, and why I know my 2019 will be one of my best yet. I am working on me. On being okay with being Heather. Alone. Just being Heather. Not ‘mom’ or ‘babe’ or someone’s mom or someone’s wife, but Heather – the best version of myself I’ve ever been – no better way to start a new journey, this new year, this new life than with a fresh, renewed start, even if it is alone. The word isn’t so bad after all.
So while the last 48 have been hard physically on my sick and tired body, and the last week has been extremely difficult on my emotions and mind, I am also grateful and thankful and becoming content.
I look around and see what appears to be happy people, starting a new already, but really, really are they happy? Money doesn’t buy happiness. People don’t buy happiness. That shit comes from the inside. Through and through. Yes, going to the gym helps, A LOT. Sometimes eating cheese fries with drinkable ranch helps (but only for a moment because then it is all bad again), but are those people that appear to me to be so happy, so moved on, so content with the new are they really happy?
Probably not. But that’s not for me to say. I’m in control of me and only me and my reactions, and my happiness and my joy. I’ve got it. It’s free and every day I make the choice to see the best and choose the happiness and the joy.