Bursting the bubble....

Last night I was the asked the question every parent dreads to hear. No, it wasn't, "Where do babies come from?" - that, would have killed me. Let me set the scene for you:

Sophia and I get home from our busy day. We're still laughing from acting silly in the car. Ricky Martin's "Livin' La Vida Loca" came on the radio and she had never heard it but like the beat of it. We danced and sang to it after I had parked the car. I'm sure if anyone would have walked by or happened to have looked out their window they would have seen two silly-looking people shaking their bodies and waving their hands inside of a tiny, black car. Her favorite line was, "...and her skin the color mocha!" after she realized SHE had mocha-colored skin; so every time she heard that line she trailed her fingers up her arm singing really loudly. Afterwards she insisted I download that song to my iPod so she could listen to it all the time. (Am I willing to shell out 99 cents for that song? Mmmm, gotta think on that one but it was fun!) So, we get into the house and she proceeds to do what she's suppose to do when we get home: coat/jacket gets hung up, cleans out her lunch bag and throws away any garbage and then takes out her homework folder and papers that I need to look at from school. I'm in the kitchen and I hear her taking the papers out of her folder. Then I hear,

"Mom! I have a question to ask you and I want you to tell me the truth!".

Uh-oh. I look over and she's coming up the hallway into the kitchen.

"Alright, what's the question?"

She stops right in front of me, puts her hands on her hips, cocks her head slightly sideways and says,

"Did you hide the Easter eggs or did the Easter Bunny and tell me the truth!! Please don't lie like some parents do to not hurt their kids feelings!!"

Shit. How the hell do I get out of this???

"Why do you want to know? Who have you been talking to?"

"I just want to know really badly and just don't lie to me, please Mom!"

Double shit.

"Ok, where is this coming from all of a sudden? Who have you been talking to? Rachael? I bet it was Rachael, it's always Rachael. Is it?"

She pulls herself up to sit on top of the kitchen counter.

"Yeah, it was Rachael but she said that parents really hide the Easter eggs, not a rabbit. It's always the parents that does stuff like that so just tell me, please, did you hide the eggs??"

Bitch.

The look on her face was of slight disappointment in knowing that I possibly hid the eggs and sadness. My mind is racing at this point. First I'm thinking about that fucking, little, mouthy girl she goes to school with who tells her some of the weirdest shit that I have to dispel every time I hear some craziness come out of Sophia's mouth and imagining them on the playground and Rachael telling Sophia there is no Easter Bunny and ruining her fantasy and who the fuck does she think she is and etc, etc.... But, at the same time I'm quickly trying to figure out if I should just take this as the moment of truth and just tell her the truth.

But I couldn't. I just couldn't. The way she was looking at me was as if she was telepathically trying to tell me, "If you hid the eggs and there's no fucking Easter Bunny bringing me all the treats it'll kill me, Mom." So, I lied.

I came close to my child growing up a little as a small dose of reality almost hit her square in her beautiful, mocha-colored face. Real close to Sophia losing a part of her blind and trusting innocence and it made me a little sad. I realized that it was ME who wasn't ready for that step. I wasn't ready to see my 8 yr old question everything as real or not real and to start disbelieving and distrusting things as most adults do. I want her to continue to believe that there is a huge rabbit hopping from place to place delivering treats and a fat, bearded man breaks his way into our house to leave presents for all the children! I want her to continue to make her Christmas list and dream of Christmas morning. I remember that feeling. That feeling of anticipation and feeling like I can't wait not another day more or I'll burst! Nothing can make you sad and you're happy everyday because of what's about to come. I remember that feeling. I miss that feeling for myself but I'm lucky to continue to feel it through her. The secret knowing that I brought the smiles and giggles and screams of delight to my child is a wonderful, selfish feeling. I want her to continue to have that feeling, and me, too, for as long as possible.
I'll be damned if fucking Rachael is going to take that away from me..errr..her.

The Look

It's Sunday morning and I'm enjoying my Sumatra coffee. So delicious and necessary. It's a bright, beautiful day here in Chicago and I'm looking forward to what the day will bring. My daughter Sophia spent the night at her Dad's house Friday night and came home last night. After a little bit of drama she sat down at the end of the couch, brought her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on her folded hands and looked at me. The look on her face was a look that I have seen everyday for the last 8-1/2 years - love.

Growing up you have dreams of what your life will be like, what your children will look like and how it will really feel to be a parent. Watching my own parents I remember thinking, "I can't wait to have my own kids! That would be cool!" but it was always in reference to how cool it would be to be able to tell someone what to do and to just be "in charge" and have ownership of your life. Not that I wanted to be able to boss someone around (well, a little bit) but to be able to make the decisions. Also, I watched the interactions of my siblings (I'm the youngest of five - hence the need to boss instead of BE bossed lol) with my parents and with each other and always thought it was great. There was, and still is, so much love within our family and that's what I wanted when I got married and became a parent. To feel the love of a child and now that I have that, I can't imagine not having it.

Ok, so why am I writing about this? The purpose of this blog is to get me to re-figure my life path. To understand what I've done, where I went wrong, where I went right and to re-discover who I am and where I fit in in all of this. Looking over and seeing my beautiful little girl and the look on her face last night was the highlight of my day made me realize SHE is why I am doing this! Can't think of a better way or reason to start, can you?

What the hell happened to me???

I use to write. I use to write all the time. In high school I wrote as if one day my poems and short stories would get published but only after I died and that's when I'd be famous - posthumously.

I turned 45 two weeks ago and it got me thinking - What the hell happened to me??



Thinking back to those dreams of a 16 yr old is funny and depressing all at the same time. I know much has changed from the life of a cute, chubby, 16 yr old high school girl to a fat, 45 yr old, single mother of an eight year old girl but what happened to those dreams? Are they truly gone, never to return? Is it too late to dream? Is it too late for me to find me again?



So, here's my blog. I don't know what it will accomplish. Maybe it will be just the outlet I need to give a silent voice to what's rattling around in my head. If this was Hollywood, this would be: Day 1 of the rest of my life and it will end with me re-discovering who I am, giving life a chance again, stop the regrets, lose weight, have my child actually listen to what I have to say, lose weight (I know I already said that but it's always worth repeating) and find love. The film would end and the credits would roll and life will be lived happily ever after.



OR



I could read what I put down and realize I'm more fucked up then I thought.........