Labeled

I usually cringe when I see the headlines about single moms and then read the statistics that are surely to follow:

 "79% of custodial single mothers are gainfully employed ... In 1995, nearly six of 10 children living with mothers only were near the ... 63% of suicides are individuals from single parent families ... ... living in single parent homes, the marital status of the ..."  

It's like taking a blow - that the downfall of society are on our busy single shoulders.  It's hard enough not having a dependable partner to raise a child with - then to have society blame all the ills of it on us.
I write about this a lot because it's something that really bothers me ... being called a single-mom. Can I not just be labeled a mom and be done with it?  It doesn't just bother me - it chafes my psyche.  Like it's a putdown.  Like we use it as crutch.  Guess what? We don't.  Because we don't have time - we are too tired to do that.   I'm a little bit shocked they don't have a single mom section in the card aisle at Hallmark for Mother's Day. Personally if I received one - I would want to jump off a bridge. 

I don't want to be pitied, taken for granted, treated differently, be told we are being prayed for or used as a scapegoat in the headlines.  I like to think that I'm raising my daughter exactly as if she would be raised if she lived in a two parent household - in fact, I would like to think I'm raising her better and stronger. 

Someone asked me once if I had a chip on my shoulder about it - I could honestly answer "Yes I do" - I am inwardly envious and resentful of everyone with a great partner whose an even better father.  I get frustrated for having to go through everything alone - it's hard to have no one to run to the grocery store for you when you have a sick child and you have to leave them alone. Harder still when you are sick and have to run to the store for yourself.  So yes, eight years in to parenting alone... the chip has grown huge. 

When I see posts on Facebook by friends that claim single parent status if their spouse is out of town for the weekend - I want to comment that it doesn't even come close unless they have suddenly removed money from the bank account or the phone isn't ringing with a caring spouse checking in. 

Reading this is sounds so bitter ... but I'm really really not. I just don't want to be called a single mom. Some of the greatest women I know are single moms... my best friend Tiffany and my cousin Dana.  I'm grateful to them because they understand how hard it is and share the same - do whatever it takes attitude to give our kids a normal life.

I wish I knew why it bothered me so much - because maybe I don't want to be a single mom raising my daughter alone and the mere label reminds me of how single I really am.

"Even if we never talk again after tonight,

please remember that I am forever changed by who you are

and what you meant to me"

- Chasing Amy

There's Something Amazing about Grace

How you climb up the mountain is just important as how you get down. And so it is with life, for which for many of us becomes one big gigantic test followed by one big gigantic lesson. In the end it all comes down to one word: Grace. It's how you accept winning and losing, good luck and bad luck, the darkness and the light.

It's amazing what you can learn from your 12-year old. It's also amazing where the lessons come from. She started reading these words to me from the back of a bottle of body wash.

I've been trying to let go of some things lately that have been holding me back. I've been getting all kinds of messages of peace. Hearing from friends that I normally don't hear from. This was another subtle message discovered in our tiny bathroom from the person I trust and love most in the world from the most unexpected source.

Laying My Burdens Down

Lately I have been experiencing a lot of inner turmoil. About my place in the world, the lack of a relationship, parenting alone, financial stress and the upheaval in my work life; all these things have resulted in massively diminished confidence in myself. Recently, I went through my Senior Book from high school with my daughter and I silently anguised inside when I read all the graduation cards I had saved. The givers had seen something in me then that I no longer have - the potential that I've never lived up to and it crushed me to think I had let them down.

I've been carrying a lot, a lot of unhealthy anger inside. Where do I put it? How do I turn it over to God and let it go? Somedays it feels like every single thing I have tried to accomplish I get feedback that I do incorrectly or get criticism for it. There is so much negativity in my workplace that its toxic for my Polly Positive soul. One of my friends and I joked that the Polly part of me has been locked in a closet since March. Maybe that's why I'm so angry.

Last night after working late I started driving home, I was going to change into something more comfortable before picking up the carpool from dance. But when I saw my little house, I just drove straight by and drove straight down Hillsboro Road to see the one person in the world who has always made me feel better no matter what was bothering me. I drove to see my Grandmother.

Her room was quiet and she was dozing. Before I woke her up - I noticed a few things. The horrible sores on her feet had sealed. Her hand that was drawn up was no longer atrophied in a death grip. Her skin was smooth.

I bent down to kiss her and told her that I loved her. When asked if she knew who it was, she immediately said "Sabriner". The past year due to her dementia/atavan state, she couldn't recall my name or see my face, but tonight through His grace, she heard my voice. The tears started falling and wouldn't stop. I told her how much I loved her and missed her. I kissed her soft, smooth hands over and over. I told her that I had no one I could talk to but her. No one could understand. With her eyes closed, she said simply, "tell me." So I knelt by the side of the bed and whispered in her ear and I laid my burdens down. She told me over and over not to cry, to not worry about anything, somehow her always comforting "everything is going to be alright" gave me instant peace.

It was so easy to tell her. Why couldn't I tell Him? Why do I fight it? Why is it so hard to really let go and let God take care of me? My whole life I've always held on to things and been embarrassed to ask anyone for help. Not so much as a sign of weakness, but there have been few people whom I really felt like I could trust and depend on.

My grandparents were always there for me - growing up, through college. After my grandfather died, my bond with Grandmother only grew stronger. She was supportive of my marriage, was at the hospital when her only great-grandchild was born and when my marriage fell apart she was there for me. Her home was our refuge. When I had no home and was living out of a suitcase, I drove to her house and stayed every possible weekend. I was safe there. No one could hurt me. Her house was a place where love lived and was fully dispensed. Her advice came from years of experience. She was the one person I could trust not to gossip or judge me.

Today I feel anxious again, but last night felt so freeing that I had her back. I didn't want to leave her in her hospital bed. I must have kissed her hands a thousand times. As I drove off, it struck me that He was in the room with me too. It was Him who sent me there instead of stopping at my house. He gave me the gift of her saying my name one more time. He allowed me lay my burdens down with the one person who makes me feel safe.

Pic Challenge - A picture of your favorite night

Katie was five years old, in kindergarden and I was taking our dog Pongo out for his last walk of the night. It was a cold January night and she was standing at the back door waiting for us to come in. Unbeknowst to me, she had put on her coat and she ran outside to me.


"Mommy, can we watch for shooting stars?" I was tired and wanted to go to bed, but couldn't say no to her innocent bright eyes. I remember thinking it might be a long wait before we see a shooting star. Reminding myself that I didn't want to squelch her exuberance I said "yes we can sweetie."


She threw herself down on the ground, I laid down next to her - our heads were touching, our bodies sticking out in a right angle to each other. Our dalmatian Pongo followed suit. We could see our breath in the night air, the outline of the tree tops, a beautiful deep, blue night sky and the stars that night seemed to sparkle so bright just for us. The longer we laid there our eyes adjusted to the dark and the brightness of the stars. Cars would come by and we would lay there stock still as the headlights grazed over us. I can only imagine what they were thinking. We giggled at the thought. We got lost in conversation and I finally said "I don't think it's the night for shooting stars."


"Mommy," she said, "you have to believe."


Not five minutes later, a shooting star streaked across the horizon - my heart jumped and as we laid there in a right angle holding hands - she squeezed my hand in excitement - we both let out a gasp. I will never forget that squeeze! "I told you Mommy." "Yes, you did sweet girl, yes you did."


Another star whizzed by, then another...how did she know?


I will never forget that night, we laughed, we held hands, our dog did a happy dance around us. I marveled at the wonderment of a girl of five believing in the stars. It was a perfect night, in fact one of the best nights of my life.

About this photo - I don't have a real photo of this night, but this is the closest I could find to capturing the outline of the trees and the color of the January sky. That night the stars danced just for us.

Pic Challenge - A picture of the cast from your favorite show

Friday Night Lights owns my soul. This is the final season and I'm going to miss the fictional players of Dillon and East Dillon High, but most of all Coach Taylor.

Based on a book by H. G. Bissinger and a movie by the same name, the series focuses on the team, the coach and issues facing kids in small town America. Not a big fan of the movie, the series captures what a two hour movie couldn't. I love this season's cast as much as I did the cast from the first season. The favorites from the earlier seasons come back for cameos - but you continue rooting for them all to grow up, go out in the world and succeed.

Why do I like the show so much? My dad loved football and played in high school in spite of many against many odds while being the head of his family. Some nights he had to walk home over ten miles after the games if he didn't have a ride. My mom was the head cheerleader for the same high school although they were years apart during their time on the field. I wish I could have seen their Friday Night Lights. If I would have had a son - I would have loved to watched him play.

Pic Challenge - A picture of you and the person you have been closest with the longest

We met in the 9th grade Economics clas of Coach Mel Brown - two band buddies - on the outer tier of Jock Hall. We studied stocks, sold lollipops for the baseball team and wrote the best advertising copy assignment. Coach Brown was so proud of it - we had to do our commercial over and over again for any teacher that walked down the hall.

It was an instant connection of like minds and teenagers chasing dreams. What sparked that day when we were 14 - has led to our still going strong 30 year friendship. We would bond over the years through colorguard, heartbreaks and heartaches, rolling on Friday nights, going off to college, and driving by crushes houses in the dark of night. And even tho I call her KB, she will always be Kris Trolinger to me.

At that time none of my other friends parents had divorced, but Kris'. We stood up for each other when we got married and I begged her not to get divorced. I thought she had been so happy. When my marriage started falling apart - I finally understood her quiet pain.

There is something about the comfort of the friend who knew you as a girl you were at 14, 16, 18, 20 - because I still feel like I am that girl. Sometimes I want that girl back. When you are with the friend that remembers who you were then - you become that girl again for a little while. You can say one boys name and start blushing again and she knows why instantly and it makes you smile.

Today we bond over our love (and worry) for our kids, Colin Firth and all things Real Housewives and Jane Austen.

I haven't driven by a potential crush's house in a long time... but if I did - I would want Kris to be in the front seat next to me.

About this photo ... it was taken during Summer Lights Festival in downtown Nashville circa Summer 1988 maybe. We were both finally able to legally drink and drink that night we did. I was home from a weekend from school and we were with one of both of our longtime crushes "the Bonfire" whom Kris later married.