Old Hands

When I was younger I always remember thinking that my hands gave away my age. That they weren't the hands of a mature woman who had lived her life, but that they were the hands of a teenage girl who was naive, scared, uneducated, little--green.

Recently my hands have looked so different. Perhaps it's because I am seeing them though different eyes…but they now look like the hands of a woman who is empowered, strong, scared, mature, and green.

I can't wait to see what they will look like next year…

Hi Nice Lady

Walked by a guy today who looked at me and said "hi nice lady" and it struck me. What do people really know about us, when they don't know us? What we post on FB? How we choose to portray ourselves? We can walk around saying or acting or dressing like anybody we want to be…anybody we want to portray….but who we are, who we really are can be something completely different. 

So who do I want to be vs. who I really am is buzzing around my head today. 

And the seasons they go round and round...

It's starting to happen…I knew it would. In fact in those early days I used to dream about it. The day when I could help someone else who was standing in the shoes I was wearing that day. The day my life changed. The day my reality shifted. The day I literally became a woman.

I have a friend…actually more than one…actually more than two who are struggling in their marriage, thinking of divorce, half way through a divorce or recently divorced.

When they call or text me for advice I find myself in tears faster than I would have imagined.

My heart literally hurts for them.

Some have been cheated on…some have money issues…some lost the love they once had for their spouse and some have cheated themselves….it doesn't matter. It hurts all the same. The emotions are real and raw and it hurts. And it hurts me to see them hurt.

So I do what I can, say what I think would help, and listen to them cry…

And the seasons they go round and round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We're captive on the carousel of time
We can't return we can only look behind
From where we came
And go round and round and round
In the circle game

It's just breakfast…right?

My older daughter started 1st grade today. It was such a mix of emotions. I told Mr. Little to plan to bring her to my house, OUR old house and I would cook breakfast, then we could all walk her over to school together after some pictures. I couldn't help but be reminded of how painful this same event was for me last year. I had just come off of three months of solo parenting and was about to start a brand new job. I was broken hearted beyond belief, not eating, not sleeping and overall falling apart. But this year was so different. I was confident, successful, dare I say happy? I woke up early to go for a run before they were set at arrive at 7:45. I needed to clear my head of any cobwebs that would be in there taking up space. Came home, showered, dressed, blow dried my hair and starting cooking.

Pancakes and turkey bacon. Chocolate milk to drink--easy, delicious.

We sat, made small talk and answered questions from our almost six year old about why we were all having breakfast together if her Daddy and I weren't married anymore---it was a lot before 8 a.m.!

But we survived. The food, the small talk, the questions, the walk, the pictures, the goodbyes and well wishes.

I left feeling so proud of myself, for my journey, for how far I've come and for how far I know I still have to go.

I am growing, changing, learning, living my life. No longer just going through the steps, but actually living---and it feels awesome.

A bouquet of...

Signs. Do you believe in them? I totally believe. Do you believe in them? The image of an angel in the picture my mother took on the beach last week, seeing someone you know at the exact moment you thought of them, a song that brings back floods of memories on a certain date that holds significance for you.

I am trying to navigate my way through this world of dating and to pick up on signs…on hints…on red flags!

I have had my eyes opened to red flags thanks to the very many hours I have spent in therapy. It wasn't something I really every thought about before (hence having a divorced lady blog), but how many flags is too many?

I mean I have flags---don't I?

1. I have a blog
2. I hate Mr. Little
3. I sometimes wish camera followed me around and documented my life because I truly believe it     would make a fascinating TV show.
4. When I used the word "sometimes" in number three I actually meant "always".
5. I secretly love all guys who have a big silver watch and read receipt on their text messages.

These are red flags people!

So here's hoping I can navigate my way through the flags beaded on the signs and not get slapped in the face with one blowing in the wind…

If I Were King of the Forest

I have a friend who is a huge believer of courage. She talks about it all the time. This morning she made me do an activity with her where I would begin a sentence with"I am courageous..."and then fill in the blank. Then she would say one about me. I wrote down every single one we both said until we got to 10. It was hard at first, I couldn't think of what to say, I laughed, I cried, I was scared and I ultimately felt empowered. Below is my list. Is this something that you can do tonight?

My courage list: 
1. I am courageous because I have faith in my ability to mother my children the best way I know how. 
2. You are courageous in how you envision something you want and you make it happen, you manifest it.
3. I am courageous because even when I think "I can't" I always do. 
4. You are courageous because you are rebuilding a home and family based on trust, caring, love and friendship. 
5. I am courageous because when I cannot accomplish something on my own I reach out for help and strength from those around me. 
6. You are courageous because you know it is important to be a friend and have fun and do things that help you feel and be a whole and healthy mother and woman. 
7. I am courageous because I know that each day is a step through this storm closer to coming out of it. 
8. You are courageous because you are open to love again. 
9. I am courageous at work because I share my victories with my team and take responsibility for my mistakes. 
10. I am courageous in life and work because I see the potential to do more, be more and bring more. 

I had a miscarriage today

I had a miscarriage today. And the weirdest part is, I feel like I am not supposed to say that or tell anyone.

The bizarre thing about having a miscarriage is that no one knew I was pregnant. Society tells us that we are supposed to keep our pregnancy a secret as long as we can. From work, from friends, even from family, until you're 100% sure that everything will be ok. Silly really.

"Hi, I'm Ruth, I'll be doing your ultrasound today"...Ruth, I thought, that would be a great name for a baby girl. I felt so badly for Ruth when it became clear to her and then to me that there was no baby to name. I said to her as I left the office, my head held slightly lower than when I walked in. "Thank you, have a good day".

And now, I am supposed to grieve, feel the pain, the loss and yet no one knew. So I can't grieve at work, because no one there knew. I can't grieve to my friends, because they didn't know.

So I am left with all my feelings, sad, scared, hopeful, lonely, selfish, confused and more.

I'm told that any day now I will start to bleed...any day...so I've spent the last 48 hours going to the bathroom every 30 minutes, waiting...waiting to bleed, to grieve.

I'm in this odd holding pattern. Just waiting. But the waiting is a blessing. Once the bleeding starts it's really and truly over. And though I've been told there's nothing there, there's no life, I am still sadly hopeful. Denial is a powerful emotion.

10-25% of us have had a miscarriage, but no one talks about it. No one. Why is that?

I was once told that women aren't given many opportunities to talk about their birth stories and that if you ask a woman, she will share. Her joy, sadness, worry, empowerment, total control or total lack of control. "Ask and she will tell" they said. Is it the same for loss? If I am asked years from now about my miscarriage, will I share? Will I cry? Will I still grieve?

So today, I went back to work, because what else am I supposed to do as I wait...wait to begin this journey, this next chapter is my book, in my story. And I know more than anyone that these chapters, they make up a life, a series of books, of journeys and of experiences and that "this too shall pass".

But for now, I'll just wait, and hope and be thankful for this time of silence.