I did and I'm here and that's the end of this entry!
Ok well, maybe not. Tomorrow afternoon our stuff gets here. Where I'll put it, who freaking knows, but I'll be surrounding by MY THINGS by tomorrow evening, even if 92 % of it will be in boxes in the basement. But, oh how I can't wait to sleep in my BED. My mom got me some awesome sheets for Christmas, something like 153,823 thread count. I can't wait. I'm just going to roll back and forth on it and moan in ecstasy. Alone. That's actually kind of sad and pathetic sounding, but that's been my life the last six weeks, so it fits.
Honestly, life has been pretty freaking awesome in the last four weeks I'd say. The first two were hard. It was the whole "Holy shit this is my reality" thing, and I guess that's to be expected. Money has been crazy tight, but I find myself not at all worried about it. It's really, really weird and really, really not like me. I don't get it. I don't know if it's because my parents said they would help me out if I really needed it and just knowing that parent panic button is there keeps my wits together enough to make it all work or what, but it's almost been a non issue for me for the most part. There was a moment or two after Christmas where panic set in and bawled once or twice, but since then I've realized as long as I have food in the house, and gas in the car, I really don't need money for anything else.
It's been kind of hard on the kids. They're used to getting little treats and stuff here and there, and having to tell them that there will absolutely will not be any extras at the store and sticking to it has been hard for all of us. I, as mom, like to make them happy. They, as children, like to get shit. It was a win win situation. Now, I'm just the woman that says no all the time, and it can eat at me a bit. We're eating a ton at home, and I am rediscovering the joys of cooking and I'm having so much fun!
After the seperation, I kind of quit cooking all together. It was rare I'd make a home made meal. Either we'd eat something packaged, or usually, we got take out. It was a coping mechanism I think. My life had been turned upside down, and cooking was the one area I could replace with outside help. I couldn't hire anyone to do my laundry or help my kids with homework or do the grocery shopping or argue with my ex on the phone. But, I sure as shit could call Cal'z and order a pizza and a sub you know? The pizza guy knew the dog's names. Yeah, THAT bad.
It was something else though, too. This is what I was telling a friend the other day. It hit me last week that I haven't cooked for Tony in a year. I think a part of me COULDN'T cook because I was afraid it would bring pain. I loved to cook for him and the kids. I loved seeing them enjoying something I made with my own hands. I got a thrill everytime Tony made a fuss over my cooking or told someone that I was great cook. I think when he left, that little of piece of my heart broke off and it took awhile to find again. I had cooked that man countless meals. I loved to serve him, even though it made him uncomfortable. It's my little Susie Homemaker deal. I like to serve my man his food, then the kids, then me. That's how my mom always did it, and even though I don't follow most of her ways of wifery, this is one I always enjoyed.
So, now that I find myself having no other choice BUT to cook, that little piece that broke off is slowly being mended with butter and garlic and salt and pepper. The kids have tried a few new things here and there and liked them and this has brought me immense happiness. The whining for fast food has completely stopped for the most part, except the occasional mention of Steak N Shake, but it's never asked for, just "Hey that sounds good right now."
Things are coming together nicely, and I'm optimistic for my future. I was worried I'd get here and smacked with the harsh reality of my single mom status, and even though I'm more aware of it, it's not nearly as bad as I thought it would be.
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