It’s Not You

Looking in

It’s not you.

Is it me?

It’s not me, right?

Maybe it is. It could be.

You’re a good man.

I know it’s true. There’s no doubt about the goodness in you.

But there’s a sadness too.

I know what quiets that sadness in you.

It’s the only time I see the little boy your mother tells me stories about.

Do I want you to be someone you’re not? Someone I see because I want to see you that way?

Or do I see the you who you actually want to be, not just because of me?

Reservation Theory


Reservation theory — it’s the idea that you have to actively reserve or carve out time for yourself and personal well-being because if you’re burnt out or not healthy, you do no one any good.

It requires continual awareness. Constant self “check ins” and assessment of your reserves before deciding whether to take on something else. Should you say “yes” to one more thing?

I used to say yes to everything. I was the girl who baked gourmet cupcakes for the office parties, the Mom who volunteered for every event.

When I got sick, I had to learn to assess the value of saying yes and consider how it would impact my energy reserves. I hope the lesson sticks, and it helps to remind myself as well.

Would I rather bake sweets for my co-workers or ride my bike to the park with my son? Sometimes we get so bogged down saying yes, that we don’t weigh these choices side-by-side, assuming that we’ll somehow just do it all (usually sacrificing sleep).

Reserve your energy for what’s it can be best spent on, what matters most.

Hockey Mom

hockey skates

I always knew I’d be a soccer mom. Sans minivan soccer mom that is. And last month, gearing up for futsal (indoor soccer) season, I found myself Googling “How are soccer shin guards supposed to fit?”

Turns out the six or so inches of shin my long-legged kid had exposed meant he’d outgrown his from the last field soccer season. So I ordered a youth medium (thanks, Amazon Prime!), except the medium was also too small, so then I ordered a youth large and we achieved the recommended amount of shin space that should be covered by the guards.

Fast forward to Spring season. Enter ice hockey.

I was rather surprised my son wanted to play. Ice hockey is hard as there’s a lot of coordination to master. But he begged to play, so I enrolled him in this awesome program the NHL does called Learn to Play. It’s a season of lessons for new players and they throw in head-to-toe gear, for free. That’s a huge savings for parents!

Today, the Google answer was “Boys aged five and up, reaching 4 feet 6 inches and 80 pounds should wear a cup 1 3/4 inches in depth.”

Yep, the Google question over lunch break today was “how to buy your son a cup”, which he refers to as a “penis protector”. As in, Hey Mom, can you please buy me a penis protector?

Next I suppose I’ll need to Google how to teach your son to wear an athletic supporter”. I did ask my boyfriend, hoping he would save me some time and add some giggles. He replied that it was very simple – you just strap it on.

Whatever it takes. Bring on the hockey. Momma’s got this!

New York State, Kid in Tow?


Spring Break is almost here, and I have no plan. It’s so unlike me!

I’ve been focused on other things, like sorting out my finances and getting the summer schedule in order. I reserved summer camp spots and placed deposits for that. I got my follow-up MRIs and CTs done — got the “all clear” as they say!

I filed my taxes. Like before the IRS even started processing them. Which is awesome, because I also already have my return deposited into my bank account, which I knew would help me mentally prepare for Spring Break travel expenses.

The thing is, once I saw how summer would unravel (family time at the lake), and Thanksgiving (also at the lake), and Christmas (home to Florida), and the fact that I won’t have my son next Spring Break, the pressure started building. I feel like we have to do something super cool and different, something adventurous (within reason for a single Mom and 7-year-old, of course).

I considered flying us out to Colorado, but the flights aren’t cheap. I scoured the internet for all inclusive travel deals, anything tropical and family friendly – nothing during the Easter time frame.

And as much as I would love, love, love to do a road trip to Montreal since my little guy just finished his school project on our Canadian heritage (eh?!), I started re-thinking that too, as it’s just too ambitious for a solo driver and one little boy who would be bored and driving me bonkers in the car for most of it. The boyfriend saying he probably can’t join us (work, you know) didn’t help either. So that one’s out the window (Montreal as a travel destination, not the boyfriend).

Which leaves me thinking…. New York State. We could probably manage that if I map out a decent route and find enough kid-friendly activities to do, as well as indoor options since it could be a rainy March/April. Most of the resources I’ve come across though are what to do in the Big City with kids, but I’m on the hunt for more active things to do and fun stuff to see in New York State instead.

Maybe we’ll start in the city with a show, but then, I want to get out and see more than that – the lakes, the mountains, wild life, hikes.

What do you recommend in New York for traveling with kids in tow? The Finger Lakes area? Catskills? What resources do you use for booking travel and places to stay? What do your kids love to do? Where’s the best place to tap some maple syrup?

Waiting for Scans

jairo-alzate-45540Waiting on scan results is hard. Your mind starts to wander, you imagine the worst. You invent meaning in nuances. Did the radiologist add extra time to your scan because there was something extra to image?

Was the rad tech compassionate with you because she knows something you don’t (yet)?

You bargain. You play “if this, then that.” And you pray.

But you still have to wait.

And sometimes, if you’re lucky, that’s the hardest part.



My ex never apologized to me.

When I think about that, it still makes my blood boil.

Don’t get me wrong, my life is amazing.

I’m happily divorced. If that’s a thing.

It was hard at first, but it got easier, then every aspect of my life got sweeter as time went by.

I love my life, I love my new partner, my son is happy, life is good.

But my ex still parents with me like everything is my fault. Like I’m the one who walked out the door with no plan. Like just because he found a nice girlfriend and flexible job and he wants everything to magically change to 50/50 and “fair” and “equal”, he should have it.

Life doesn’t work that way, and in our specific case, that’s not what’s best for our son, so co-parenting for us doesn’t work that way (or at all really?).

So here I am, left dealing with an ex who never apologized, refuses to take any responsibility for his part in our situation, and still continues to blame me for everything that happens.

Yep. Everything. No exaggeration needed.

Our son’s lunchbox is missing?
>>>>>> I’m a liar.

A school form was not scanned and sent to Dad?
>>>>> I’m a shitty Mom who should enjoy my hell.

I ask to borrow our son’s extra pair of soccer socks left at Dad’s house?
>>>> I’m a lazy mom who should do more laundry (and no, we can’t borrow his socks).

And on and on it goes. It doesn’t really matter what the context is. The only answers are (a) It’s my fault and (b) I did it intentionally to cause my ex harm because I’m a horrible person.

What’s funny (not haha funny) is that literally, my ex is the only person who knows me who would say anything negative about me as a mother.

How does that not just blow his mind?

I suppose because he probably never thinks about it.

He doesn’t consider how many people his behavior and bad choices have affected personally over the years. He doesn’t consider how many people – from family (both sides), friends, medical professionals, school staff, and others, who have witnessed him being a less than stellar person and father, first hand.

I know my ex loves our son. But love alone does not make someone a good parent.

And let’s get real. Everything is my fault.

He cheated because I wasn’t a good enough wife. It’s all my fault.

He lied because I was too difficult to talk to. Blame me for that.

He left because his life, a life most people would be grateful to live, didn’t make him happy. That’s my fault too.

If it weren’t for me, his life would be perfect.

What do I know. Maybe now his life is perfect, except he has to deal with me.

And as much as he wants to deflect his guilt, anger, and blame?

I’m not taking it on.

People who act the way he does don’t really change. They just get better at hiding the parts of themselves they don’t want others to see.

Hair Loss, and More


I went to you in tears

Soaking wet from my shower,

wrapped up in a towel

Seeking comfort

Another clump of hair had fallen out

Despite the fact that I knew to anticipate the hair loss, that I knew it wouldn’t all fall out, that I knew it would grow back, despite all that, it still brought me to tears

So I went to you for comfort, for reassurance

You turned to me with an empty stare

I wrapped my arms around you anyways

But there was no comfort to be found

Because you weren’t really there

Shedding you was the best thing I never knew I needed

And the hair grew back eventually

Beautifully so