Learning Balance

In September, this blog will be 5 years old. Since I appear to be out of new ideas, it seems like a good time for a retrospective of the last 5 years. (Incidentally, this is my 792nd post. So I don't feel too bad that the inspiration is waning!)

In my first post (which is so bad, I can't even bring myself to link to it), I mentioned why it's all about balance. That seems worthy of a first retrospective post.

For most of my life, I was not good at balance. I was often accused of being too tunnel-visioned, too emotional, just generally too much.

I certainly did learn that too much anything was usually a bad thing.

It's great to have passion, ambition, to give of yourself, but after much trial and error, I aim for balance. (Which is not to say I succeed, of course, but at least the blinders are off now.)

From the time I was 6, I devoted my life to theatre. I was always in rehearsal or performing (or both). My dream was everything. Until it wasn't.

It wasn't that I stopped wanting it, but wanting it and getting what you want aren't always the same thing. And certainly not in show biz.

There's a great song called "A Way Back to Then" from Title of Show that describes this:

But the mundane sets in
We play by the rules
And plow through the days
The years take us miles away
From the time we wondered when
We'd find a way back to then

Then came marriage(s), and those babies in their carriage(s). Then came divorce.

When you're a single parent, you simply cannot be tunnel-visioned anymore. I had to strive for balance.

I couldn't stop being me completely, of course. My girls have grown up listening to musical theatre from the womb. I have shared with them my passions. I show them by example by being involved in my community, by spending time with friends and family, by juggling our wants and needs, that there is a way to have it all by having it in smaller increments. 

While seeing the value of balance may seem elementary to most, it wasn't for me. 

Balance is something I wish I'd learned to want at a much younger age, and I hope the girls have taken in these lessons.

Waiting for their Happily Ever After

One of the reasons Into the Woods is one of my favorite musicals, if not my all-time favorite, is because it so often has the answers to life's most interesting questions. Act 1 follows the standard fairy tales and integrates them with the creation of a new fairy tale. Act 2 is what happens after "Happily Ever After," and the unintended consequences of getting what you want.

Single parenthood, for the first few years, was less than fun. Sure, it had some rewarding moments here and there, but mostly, it was just hard, exhausting, and lonely. I didn't regret the decision to leave X and I knew being a single mom was better than the alternative, but I often wondered just how this all ended up being my life.

I had so many goals and ambitions when I was younger, and few of them came to fruition. I didn't think I'd ever be okay with that. Now, not only am I okay with it, I'm okay with everything. Every unintended consequences, every mistake, and every accomplishment I have managed thus far.

I'm writing this not to pat myself on the back, but because I have to remember this when it comes to my daughters. I have to remember that they will make mistakes, they will wonder at times if they will ever be okay with things that happen, and they will come out the other side of things okay.

They already have, actually. They deserve better than the father they have, and that was hard for them for a long time, but they're okay with it now.

It's natural to want the best for my girls. It's natural to hope that they never experience the pain of their mistakes, or the unintended consequences of choices they make, or simply finding themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time. Of course, as a parent, I do what is within my control to help guide them away from such experiences,  but the reality is, I will not be able to protect them from everything.

All I can do is hope that the things I've told them, the things I've shown them, will eventually come through when they need it. And that I'm always here whenever they might need a little help. They have already shown a great capacity to accept the unacceptable, to say "I'm sorry" when they're wrong, and to do what they can to enjoy their lives. They pursue dreams, they work through defeat, and they will eventually find themselves on the other side of any bad times. I'm almost sure of it.

Balancing Identity

Riley is contemplating whether or not to audition for the next musical at a community theatre. We had a conversation about it where every other word out of her mouth seemed to be "Sylvia."

I have tried so hard to promote their individualism, but at the same time, not label them. I have not succeeded.

Their accomplishments have put them on different paths, and their own sense of who they are stems from those accomplishments, as well as their sense of their sibling.

When Sylvia has trouble in school, she exclaims that she's not Riley. When Riley tries to picture herself on a stage, she compares herself to Sylvia.

I have told them both over and over, "I don't expect you to be your sister. I love who you are."

Some form of understanding their identity is good. When they're in their element, they are confident. They aren't afraid to try new things because they believe in their own ability to conquer it.

In new areas, they can't help but wonder how they stack up to those around them. Of course, the most natural comparison is their sister.

But we all do it, don't we?

We all wonder how we compare to our colleagues, our siblings, our neighbors. In school, if we're graded on a curve, our own scores are completely related to how our classmates did.

Comparison is unavoidable.

I told Riley that I will support whatever decision she makes...as long as it's her own. Right now, I can't truly assess what she wants to do, and I think it's because she doesn't know.

At least, when the conversation was over, we were holding hands and smiling together. I hope that at least that message got through; she's always got me, no matter what.

The Birthday Post

Yes, it's that time again. Previously, I've done lists based on my age. 39 seems a little daunting for that task.

It was the year I turned 30 that I left X for good. It's been the decade of change for me. Which is I'm okay with telling the world my age.

I want it to be known that as hard as it was to overcome all the mistakes I made in my twenties, I did so. I want it to be known that I'm so much happier at 39 than I was at 29.

In my 20's, I learned all the hard lessons. In my 30's, the lessons have been (for the most part) fun and exciting. I like myself SO much better today than I did on my 30th birthday.

I'm not going to bother making goals because I like seeing how things have unfolded so far. I'm more confident in my ability to see "red flags" while still remaining open to new experiences and challenges. I have done so many things in the past 9 years that I never would've imagined and I'm proud of myself for that. I don't know exactly what this final year of this decade holds for me, and that's okay. I know it will be full of challenges and sameness and thrills, and that's more than enough.

Thank you for being part of my journey. 

Thank you for your vote!

I'm thrilled that I've been nominated as a Circle of Moms Top 25 Single Mom Blogger. Thanks in advance for clicking the link to vote for me at least once a day. The link is also up on the left-hand side during the voting period.




I know there are tons of single parents sharing their stories, and win or lose, I'm deeply honored that this blog was even in consideration.

Life Well Lived: Balancing Me-Time

Today's question: How do you put yourself first? How does taking time for yourself help make you happier?

The first sentence that comes to mind is hard to imagine without a martyr-like tone, but try. My first impulse is to say that I put myself first because no one else will.

Unfortunately, a statement like that is hard to hear without imagining that someone's complaining or being passive-aggressive and that's not at all my intent. It's simply a statement of fact.

As a single mom, you can build up a great circle of friends, you can reach out to your family, you can find an online community, but there will inevitably be times when it's just you in the moment and there's no one else around that can take the kids for an hour or let you cry on their shoulder. It's just you and you alone to deal with it.

And I know a lot of married parents that can relate, too. They'll tell me, when their spouse is on an airplane or otherwise can't be reached, "I felt like a single parent." There are differences, of course, but that's what they mean. They experience that moment of having no support system and having to face it right then and there.

Having experienced a number of those moments, I have learned that I do indeed deserve a little me-time. In fact, I need a little me-time every day.

While the girls can stay up later now that they're older, I basically kick them out of the living room at 9 p.m. It's not all me-time from 9-11; I do my prep for the next day, but I am free to watch grown-up TV, read or play Words with Friends, and not have to talk or actively listen. I need those couple of hours to myself in order to feel like I have done something for myself at some point every day.

I also make time to spend with friends. Usually, at lunch during the work week, but sometimes a Happy Hour or night at the theatre. I cherish my friends and having so little time with them makes me appreciate every minute together even more.

The question on the BlogHer post brings up guilt for taking me-time. I'm so over that!

I'm not a perfect mom by any means, but I know that the majority of the time, I put my children first. They're my number one priority 22 hours out of the day. 2 hours to myself is such a small fraction, but it makes all the difference. It helps me be a better mom those other 22 hours. It's a parent's version of the 80/20 rule.

Add your own tricks to finding me-time on the BlogHer post, and enter the sweepstakes to win a Kindle Fire.

Odds and Ends

I'm trying to get back in the blogging world and the best way is just to do it, right? Nothing seems worthy of an entire post, so here's a hodgepodge.

• I haven't talked about The Power of Negative Thinking in a while, but it still totally works for me! And Sylvia's starting to get it now, too. She hated this one project she'd done for one art class. As she was finishing it, she was SO frustrated, and did not want to go to class, sure that everyone would hate it. There was something else happening that day I can't remember that she wasn't looking forward to, so the whole way to school that morning, she was a grump. I told her, "look at it this way. At least you know today's going to suck! Too often, we think it's going to be a good day, and then it sucks, but you know that going in!" Sure enough, when I picked her up that day, she said the day hadn't been nearly as bad as she'd thought, no one hated her project as much as she thought they would, and she managed to get through the day unscathed. Sometimes, not having a terrible day can be just as good as a good day!
• A while back, I took the girls to see Fiddler on the Roof, which they loved. What I really loved was watching this one boy across from us in the front row (it's a theatre-in-the-round setting). Before the show started, I saw him and he looked SO bummed to be there. He was trying to keep the bummed look going during the show, but he couldn't help himself. As Tevye danced in "If I Were a Rich Man," he was laughing. By the dream sequence, he was completely enthralled. I love watching people's perception of theatre change simply by experiencing it! 
• Speaking of theatre and Sylvia, she said something about Sondheim, and I had to smile. I told her, "Just think, if you had another mother, you might not know who Sondheim is." Her reaction was one of horror, "not know who Sondheim is?!? I would HATE that!" Definitely a proud mama moment for me.
• One day (another morning), Sylvia was in another bad mood and was taking it out on me. Yelling all kinds of lovely things at me. I kept my mouth shut (for the most part), and as she got out of the car, she said, "you're such a..." and slammed the car door shut. I decided not to find out what the end of that sentence would be. Later, she texted me an apology and when we were all in the car on the way home, she mentioned that she'd hit her elbow when she slammed the car door. Riley dryly remarked, "Karma!" Sylvia responded, "I know, right?" I just smiled. (Her elbow's fine now.)