Dear bloggy readers:
Well, Thanksgiving weekend is upon us. I've been a terrible, terrible, absent blogger (bad blogger, bad!). But so much has happened in the past year. Too much to write about, even if I did have the words. (And probably I don't, but as you know, this has never stopped me before ;)).
So - to recap -
Our heroine been separated for almost a year now, after 13 years of marriage. Every day gets easier. And harder. And easier. I feel more independent, stronger, braver. I don't know who this woman is that I see in the mirror everyday - but I am getting to like her more and more. I have my own place. For the first time, well, ever. And every time I walk in the door, no matter the mess that greets me, I get this little thrill. My home. This is my home! My art. My stuff. A mess of my own making.
Boy-o and Girlio are starting to adjust pretty well, and have been the most incredible troopers. We each have them half time. It's still hard. I miss them much of the time. And it will, likely, always be difficult for them, and for their parents (and not a day goes by that I don't remind myself that my sense of freedom comes at great costs.) But they are loving school and daycare and they are flourishing. And that is all a parent can hope for, really.
I started my phd. I STARTED MY PHD! I cannot even describe the feelings this brings to the fore. It feels terrifying. It feels overwhelming (like, what kind of idiot thinks, HEY! I know - I'll get divorced and become a single parent and start my phd?! Who does that? Well, me, apparently.) There is always too much to do. There is almost always a little person who needs my energy. School work that needs my energy. A home that needs my energy. There is little, little sleep. And still, it feels like coming home. I feel freaking amazing. I am out in the world again. I am using my brain again. I feel passionate and invigorated. This, too, is hard. Because lurking around every corner are reminders that tell me that I am being selfish. That this is not the right choice for a mother to make. That I'm too old for this. That my expectations are pie-in-the-sky unreasonable. (Luckily, I've never been accused of reasonability!) And this, I will defend with everything I have. This is where I should be, and maybe where I should have been all along. This is *mine*.
And so, I find myself again, here at thanksgiving, a year older -
I have so much to be thankful for, still.
I am thankful all of the love and support I have found this past year.
I am thankful for this amazing community of friends I am building.
I am immensely grateful for the resilience of my children, who everyday thrill me with who they are, and are becoming, and challenge me to become a better person.
I am thankful for my family, whose love an support is unflagging, even when I am far too often preoccupied and bogged down with the daily grind(s) to reciprocate.
I am thankful (and amazed) for this person I am becoming - this familiar-stranger - who seems bigger and bolder and braver and fiercer than she was before.
And I am, and will always remain, amazingly grateful for this blog (for you, reader, if you are still out there reading). It may seem overly dramatic to say that this blog saved my life. But that's kind of how I feel (and those of you who have been reading for awhile will be intimately familiar with my penchant for the dramatic!). I came to blogging at a time when I was sure that I had lost parts of me that were unrecoverable. When I was certain that I had lost my voice. And as it turned out - I had some things to say. And the feeling of community I discovered here was the start of recovering my sense of self. So, blog - I am so, so thankful for you.
But - this is also very likely my last blog here at AQFGIR. The daily grind has gotten, well, a little grindier in the past while (as evidenced by my lack of blogginess). I'll miss the blog, the readers and comments, and the I'll-spill-my-guts-even-though-I-don't-have-time-to-edit-my-guts immediacy of writing and posting and writing and posting.
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. I hope this weekend finds you feeling loved and embraced in your homes and communities.
And thanks. For reading, for lurking, for commenting, for spurring me on to write more, for the encouragement - for being here in whatever capacity - on my baby-making, baby-raising, working-through-it journey.