The Hardest Part...

of being a single parent for half the year/half the month/one week at a time, is feeling bound. If you didn't already know, my husband Chris is a medevac pilot 'up North.' In plain English, he flies an air ambulance in the Northern communities of Manitoba Canada. So, our life is that he lives in Thompson, MB for a week, then is home for a week. When he took the position, I was nervous about it. I didn't know how we would all do....
Well let's just say it went worse than anticipated. He's been doing it for almost 6 months (I think?) and it doesn't get any easier. I can honestly say that I hate it. H.A.T.E. it. I am no supermom, and don't do well when I feel overwhelmed. But I've been surprised at what I've found the most overwhelming. It hasn't been the boys and their ever increasing rambunctiousness, ever increasing realization of how to push other people's buttons (as in MY buttons or a certain sibling's), the constant correcting, teaching, and re-directing. No, I can deal with those with ease.....until I feel alone. I have struggled the most with loneliness. I've come to learn that I don't do well when I'm alone and feel like everything is on me. To use a common term: I buckle under pressure. I become reclusive, introspective, distant, and basically want to hide under a rock and not see anyone.... does anyone else see the IRONY in that?? That sentence is like an oxymoron! When  I get lonely I want to be alone?? Yes. It's weird but true. But here's where the parenting part comes in.... um, I HAVE children.... so I don't very often get to be alone. Oh yes, I can always have some space here and there when they're playing or napping or sleeping. But even then, I am ALWAYS responsible. I don't get to run to the store in the evening if I need some groceries or much needed household items. I can't put in ear plugs and have a good long nap if I'm exhausted. I don't get to go shopping with a girlfriend if I feel like it. Now this post isn't about having a pity party. I don't want pat on the backs or 'poor you's.' I just want to get it out. I want to articulate it for myself in an attempt to somehow deal with it, accept it....maybe even embrace it....
You might be reading this and think "It's only for a week at a time, at least you get your husband home for an entire week!" Well....yes. That does sound nice....in theory. When Chris comes home, he's tired. And I don't mean 'tired from a long day at the office,' tired, I mean exhausted from crazy shift work, from having 15 hour days of flying through intense weather systems, worrying about getting sick passengers to the hospital, worrying about the ice that is so thick on the windshield that the heated windshield isn't even enough to clear it, worrying about the ice build-up on the tail and body of the plane, hoping the rubber 'boots' on the wings will be able to blow up big enough to burst all the ice off of it. And on top of that, having to deal with clearances, air laws, equations and formulas, procedures and laws, cabin pressure and mechanical failures with the plane, and the list goes on. Being a pilot is exhausting. When he gets home, he is literally a write-off for the first 2 days, if not 3. He sleeps and sleeps and sleeps, wakes up exhausted, then sleeps some more. So really I have the kids for a full 10 days without any real help. It is nice when he's home because he can at least give the boys hugs and kisses and tuck them into bed, but in fairness to him, I don't have expectations much higher than that. And when he is home, he also wants to have a life, and will often go out 2 of the nights he's home, so really that leaves me 2 nights. And I won't even mention the fighting involved with two tired, overworked parents trying to fight for their own 'freedom' in a sense..... or the conflict of child rearing when one parent has been doing it a certain way for a week, then the other one comes in and has different expectations of what discipline looks like....it's been difficult....really difficult.
So I have become secluded. I've withdrawn. I've been messy inside. I haven't quite known how to handle the pressure. I feel a lot of pressure, and a lot of loneliness. And this is the real me. It's hard to admit because more than anything I want to rise to the occasion, grab the bull by the horns, and do it well!!  But I haven't. Oh there have been times where I've made conscious decisions to go out, socialize, be interactive, make an effort....only to come home to an empty house, greeted by the agonizing realization that I'm alone and it's all on me....
In writing this, I realize I do have to get my s#!* together and figure out how to function better even with the pressure. I realize that becoming secluded isn't the answer and definitely isn't fair to my children. To be totally honest, I wish I had my college friends around me (the friends I made in my high school/college years are still my best ones!). The friends that are dear to my heart and that I love on a deeper level. The friends I can be real with because we have a history. I want to live beside all of them, so we could run to each other's doors with our kids in tow. We could take turns making supper and eating all together, we could have sleepovers with our kids.....life would be so grand. But since that is not a reality and never will be, I have one prayer: to make new 'college' friends..... real friends who live near me and who are kindred spirits.... friends who make me laugh, and laugh at me. Friends who are just easy. So easy to hang around that it feels like family. No facades, no 'keeping up with the Jones', just real.  (and I do have a couple that are on the way to that level, but it's just different as an adult)
And I will end this long, melancholy post by thanking the wonderful, true friends that I have and love. You know who you are (there are more than one!) and you know that I will always consider you a bestie. Thank you for the long, real phone conversations, and that distance will never make us grow apart. I miss you more than you know <3
AND this post wouldn't be complete without mentioning the fact that if it wasn't for our amazing families, I probably would have ended up in a psych ward (I'm being a little dramatic!) Unfortunately Chris' family lives in Edmonton, but Chris' mom came and stayed with me for a week when he was gone, and we also went out to Edmonton. They are ALWAYS a blessing in my life and my boys life, and I can't imagine what our life would be like without their input and generosity!
And thankfully we do have one set of grandparents around (my parents), and truly truly, I don't know what I would have done without them. We have ended up on their doorstep many a times! And when I was at my very lowest, they welcomed us in and gave my boys a happy life when I was unable to give it to them. They also often come over and are just here for us. I do SO much better when there are people here, especially family, and having them stay with me and the boys has been a lifesaver. My sister has also been my rock. I can always call her and know that she'll know the right words to say to help me get through. So I am not alone, and I know this. In the midst of hardship and loneliness, there has been lots of support for me, and for this I am eternally grateful <3

Torn

As you might have noticed, I go through blogging phases. Like many areas of my life, I get gung-ho about it for a while, then lose interest, and on and on the cycle goes. I don't know if I want to admit this, but sometimes I feel like a yo-yo. For example, when I read a blog written by an amazing mother going through hardship that writes non-chalantly and wittily about the woes in her life, it makes me want to take life less seriously and write about things in a light-hearted, easy-read kind of way. I like being funny and silly, and making people smile.
But then other days I'll read a blog that is so raw, so real, so open, that it touches a part deep within me that makes me want to pour out my deepest, hardest questions and struggles because somehow in reading someone else's honesty, it makes me feel free. It makes me feel normal and ok. It makes me want to bring others that freedom. If you read about someone struggling with fear or rejection, doesn't it somehow give you freedom with that person to be real about your own struggles? Honestly, when I read someone's blog that is all 'sunshine, roses, and lollipops,' about how wonderful their life, their husbands, their kids are, it makes me feel somehow.... inferior? I don't know the right word... but I do know that I have changed the way I think about blogging.
I've had experiences with friends in my adult life where being real was never accepted. The only things talked about were other people's shortcomings or the surface, meaningless topics like weather, fashion, house cleaning, or the doings of our children. Don't get me wrong, there's a time and a place for those conversations, but when a friendship grows deeper, doesn't it have to get to a deeper level? But I truly believe for some people, it never can. In order to become close to people, you have to let guards down, you have to be real and vulnerable. It's the only way. The reason I bring this up is because I have sometimes feared being real on my blog because I think some people won't know how to handle it and will judge me. I've believed somewhere along the line that people don't want real. But I'm starting to think otherwise. I think people need to see real in order to experience an element of freedom. Freedom from their own fears of being rejected for having 'stuff.'
Now don't worry, I'll never be one to turn into a 'Negative Nelly,' and I definitely don't believe in only focusing on the negative - let's face it, that's just depressing..... but maybe, just maybe, it's ok to be in a low spot for a while.... maybe sometimes life is just hard, and it's ok to admit it. We all need a Saviour to lift us out of the miry clay, but in the meantime, maybe we have something to learn while being in it.
So I am changing the way I blog. This blog is going to be real. If I'm having a rough patch and need to get out some tough questions swirling in my head, I will. If I have awesome times with the loved ones in my life, I'll post about that too. I just want real.

When I was little...

The boys LOVE hearing stories about when I was a little girl, so while we drive, I will often tell them story after story about my life as a child. Last night I had already told them about 6 stories, and really didn't feel like telling any more, so I asked Ethan to tell me a story. Now before I tell you his story, I need to give you a bit of background information. The last story I had just told them was about how my beloved puppy wouldn't listen when we called her, and she would run out the door. One time she ran right in front of a car, but the car braked just in time and Taffi (the dog) was actually under the hood of the car, but inches in front of the tire. I explained that I was so happy she was ok, and I hugged her and hugged her (the story was a lot longer than that and in more detail, but that's the gist of it). Ethan asked if she got in trouble for disobeying and I said no way, I was just so happy she was ok. SO, that's the background and here's Ethan's story:

"One time when I was a little baby in your tummy, I didn't listen, and ran onto the road and got drove over by a car. RIGHT over my tummy and I was bleeding and got killed...... (I said "oh no, that's terrible") but it didn't really hurt....well it did a little.....but not too bad.....but I was ok......I just needed a band-aid."

WOW, I don't ever tell them stories like that!
So for the next 10 minutes of our drive home, the boys took turns telling stories, and oh my goodness, the things they come up with are hilarious! Of course I can't remember them now because they were just so random, but I told them I want them to tell me a story so I can take a video of it, and I will definitely post them on here!!