Have a Seat

I am in love, and sadly, it’s with an inadament object.      

While I have been in the house for three months now, it has remained fairly desolate.  Don’t get me wrong, I have done a lot of redecorating, but this mainly involved changing out hardware, replacing light fixtures, and other exciting things such as replacing ceiling fans and installing a new garbage disposal.  Other than that, the decor is basically a combination of what I brought with me (which was not much as I let M have the majority of house hold goods)  and what I purchased when I first moved to Georgia (which was basically all from IKEA, and I assembled myself).  

But all of that changed today.

I have been scouring thrift store web sites and Craig’s list for the start of some signature pieces that eventually I would use to swap out some older style and/or hand me downs that just really don’t say “me”.  I have been dreaming of a place called City Issue Atlanta, and checking design websites that I have come to know and love.  Then late last week I came across a listing for the perfect Danish Mid-Century Modern chair, and guess what?  It is now all mine!

I know that I will need to get the upholstery redone; however with any vintage piece you take that chance.  Regardless, I need to refrain from screaming out loud the insanely low price that I got it for because I may get arrested it was that much of a steal.  Let’s just say less than half what I found at other places.  Less. Than. Half. Yay me!

So I (very cautiously) went to the residence of the guy that was selling it, and wow- the entire house was done in the same style and simply amazing.  Not 1960’s egg chair and green shag carpet looking, but instead think Mad Men chic with a current twist.  Anyway, he and his partner were sadly selling this amazing home that you could just tell they had put so much love and effort into.  He was very thorough in showing me the chair, and lovingly turned it over to show the markings underneath.  I threw out an offer that was ridiculously low, and I knew he would never go for it, but he just said “ok”.  I almost felt bad. Almost. So, I took a shot and asked if there were any other pieces he was selling.  He showed me a much more modern arm chair, and I passed.  I went out to the car to get the cash, and when I came back in he said, “I do have another chair for sale, it is downstairs.”  All of my Lifetime Movie alarm sirens started going off saying, “don’t go down the basement!” but it was a split level and I could see what he was talking about right from the landing.  It was actually two chairs in another style that I have been stalking as well, and ideally I would like to have chairs such as these to sit on either side of the sideboard that I will own one day.  I checked them out- they were similar- not an exact match- which is cool because they were not matchy-matchy looking.  Again, I asked how much for the pair, and I nearly choked when he gave me the amount.  I immediately agree. I went back out to the car, so thankful that I still have the Expedition a little while longer so I can get my new treasures home, but when I went back inside the seller informed me that his wife wanted to keep one of them.  So, I asked him to knock a little more off the half price amount for just one, and he begrudgingly agreed.  I quickly, but gently, scooped up the chairs and hit the road before he had an opportunity to change his mind. 

Here is a picture of the second chair:

Again, as with the first, it needs a good upholstery  job in a more updated fabric,  but I have to tell you that it has got amazing lines and is beyond structurally gorgeous. 

So now my original Danish lounge chair has found a new home right in my bedroom. 

It is the perfect fit, like the corner was waiting all along to find its missing piece.  And it is so comfortable- perfect to relax and the ultimate reading chair.  I just need a good book and a nice glass of red to go with it… once I get those, I may never leave.

Love, Attachment or Both?

I had a conversation the other day with a very good friend that I have known for almost all of my life.  We don’t get together, or even talk for that matter, nearly as often as either one of us would like, but when we do it is easy and natural and honest- the way any good friendship that has stood the test of time would be.  She also happens to be one of my only friends that have experienced divorce.  It was great to talk to someone that has already been down this road and made her way to the other side. I so appreciated her opinion and view point, but most importantly her hindsight, in that you don’t realize how good it can be until you make that decision to choose a different life.  Inevitably through our conversation I think I said “I know you will understand what I mean when I say…” no less than three times.  And sure enough, she did.

While we talked about numerous things, the theme of relationships was clearly the main point of discussion.  Growing up my friend personally witnessed the entire courtship of M and I, so even though she knows the full story, we still discussed the details of “why” M and I ended up separating. Ironically, my friend and I both share a similar story of finding ourselves married to people that we realized we were no longer were compatible with, and even though we were in a legally committed relationship, we were alone. No partnership, not able to relate to one another, but instead two people living separate lives in the same house.  It was a key moment when both of us realized that this was what we were teaching our kids a marriage was, and hence a turning point that brought both of us to action.  She said it best by summarizing it as “Never an easy choice, but the right choice.”

So now the choice is made, and I know it’s the right one.  But I still find myself struggling with the question of “Why was it so hard for me to make the decision I knew was right in my head, but was so hard for me to get right in my heart?”   

I recently came across an interesting article that really hit at the heart of the matter (no pun intended) and maybe… possibly… will help me make sense of it all.

Apparently, it’s all about the combination of love and attachment in a relationship.  

Relationships are often governed by competing emotions, and it is understanding the difference between "being in love" and "attachment” that can help navigate through some of the difficulties we face when relationships don’t turn out to be what we expect.

The article defines love as a strong emotion that involves passion and desire – a need to be physically and emotionally intimate with another person.  Love is designed to bring people together, let them feel connected to one another in a way that is deep and meaningful.  These emotions connect people on a deeper level where they feel they understand the other person in such a way that no one else does, hence when love is lost we experience a true feeling of emptiness and loneliness; the person that filled us with such strong emotion and care is now gone.  

Attachment, on the other hand, is the sense of security, stability and comfort which people derive from their relationships.  Attachment is derived from patterns of behavior, sharing a history together, and knowing what to expect from your spouse.  Even if it is a negative response, we become conditioned to accept this behavior and in a way it almost becomes comforting to us because it meets our expectations.  Attachment bonds link people together even when love is missing.  It’s because we form these attachments to one another that, when relationships come to an end, people suffer a sense of loss to one's sense of security and stability. As such, the loss of an attachment partner can be a significant experience in your life as well.

Ironically, love and attachment do not necessarily go hand-in-hand. It is possible to have an attachment to someone even if there is no love.  But this article explained how when you have the combination of these two elements- love and attachment- it is, of course, the most powerful connection between two people, and hence the most devastating when it’s over. 

So basically, when you lose the one that you feel a strong passion and desire to be with, has a deep level of understanding of who you are as a person as well as a partner, and also provides comfort and stability in your life, it pretty much sucks. 

I will say that talking with my friend helped, and not just because she is a great listener, but because she is also a true inspiration.  She is now happily married to a great guy, and when you see them together it is obvious that she and her husband have both an amazing love and strong attachment for each other.  There was a long period in my life where I was not sure that type of relationship even existed.  Now, among other things, witnessing their relationship just proves that not only is it possible, it’s something worth fighting for.

Momma's Got A New Pair Of Shoes

So, just in case you felt the earth stop, I think I should explain. I signed up for a 5k.

I own what I am.  I am a gym girl, not a runner.  I have never understood the joy of running- I am that girl that would feign some sort of foreign illness during gym class when you had to run the mile just to get out of it.  I have often said that my own version of hell would be me, the devil and a treadmill.  So why, might you ask, am I doing this?

Because I can.

Ooooo- yes, I understand that I am testing the universe by saying that, by recklessly throwing out there that I can do this, but hey, I like to live on the edge.

So, I have been following a good training program, and asking (aka stalking) anyone that I know that has done this before for any words of wisdom or advice because I am basically winging it.  Which is fine until race day, and then I feel like a fish out of water, or at the very least a girl out of her element.  I have received some great feedback, but one that I keep hearing is that you have to get a good pair of shoes.

Shoes, you say?
Yeah, I think I can handle that.

So off I went to Big Peach Running Company- it was awesome!  Not even purchasing my best pair of pumps was the experience this detailed.  It started very general; how long have you been running, what distance, surface conditions you run on, etc. Then they got all technical and ran a whole biomechanics analysis including my gait and pronation. I didn't even know what those meant let alone I had one.  Then Josh (best sales associate ever!) walked me through what all of these characteristics meant, and what I should be looking for in a shoe to best meet my needs.  Then the fun started- trying on the shoes! I can't tell you how many pairs they brought out, but it was a shoe wonderland!  Brands I knew- Nike, Adidas, New Balance to some I have never heard of including Saucony and Mizuno.  Josh had me running in each pair- both inside and outside the store- comparing and contrasting each pair, then putting a different shoe on each foot, whittling it down until I finally went with these beauties:

I wore them for the first time yesterday, and wow what a difference!  They are so light you can barley tell you are actually wearing a shoe, but you can still tell what great support they provided.  My two mile run is tomorrow, and dare I say, I am really looking forward to it.  I am finding that (gasp!) I am enjoying my runs and seeing how I am building my distance and improving my time week over week. 

Apparently, up until now I have been doing it all wrong.

I just didn't have the right shoes.

Ladies and Gentlemen, Please Put Your Tray Tables In Their Upright Position....

It has been one week since the big move. One week that I have been on my own.  One week of finding our way and trying to determine what this is going to look like.  There have been some great highs, such as hearing the girls laughter fill up the house, or both sleeping so soundly from playing hard all day. There have also been some difficult lows; hearing how much they miss Michigan and everything that goes along with that, or random spurts of crying- take your pick from any of us at any given moment. 

But I am not going to lie.

I am a little sick of myself.

This behavior is SO not me- I am the positive one, yes we can, I can accomplish anything type of girl.  It is the difference between the glass half full and where the hell is the rest of my drink?  It is the difference between Eeyore and Tigger (and Tiggers are wonderful things). It is the difference between greeting each day as an opportunity to accomplish something great vs. gotta make the donuts. Well, you get the picture….

OK, so perhaps I should cut myself some slack- I did just end a relationship, move 4 states away with two kids and a dog, and left all I have known my entire life behind.  But to me these circumstances are just excuses.  And I can’t stand excuses.  My mind thinks, “This is what'cha got girl- make it happen!”  THAT is how I live- look at a situation and face it head on. 

So, what is the solution?

Put on your oxygen mask.

Let’s face it- I fly a lot; so much so that I could personally recite the Flight Attendant safety demonstration.  During their little speech, your friendly flight attendant will explicitly tell you in the event of an emergency or loss of cabin pressure a yellow oxygen masks will deploy from the ceiling compartment located above you. To secure, pull the mask towards you, secure the elastic strap to your head, and fasten it so it covers your mouth and nose. Even if the bag does not inflate, please keep in mind that oxygen is flowing. Breathe normally.

Got it.

So now, my yellow oxygen mask consists of connecting with college friends in the area, other co-workers, neighbors that I look forward to getting to know better and other neighbors I haven’t met yet.  Joining Atlanta PCW (Professional Career Women), 35UP!, Corporate Cocktail Weekly, and of course, Hockey Night in Atlanta.  It also means not skipping my workouts- following the 5k training program because it’s something that I want to prove to myself.  Being the best mom I can be, and not sweating the small stuff.  Finding a really good Yoga class. Making plans for my best friend to fly into town for a much needed girls weekend. Visiting my local farmers market.  Cooking a real dinner for me and the girls- every night. Still listening to music regardless of the memories.  Putting on my pretty little sun dresses with sassy shoes and a cute pedicure- just because. Laughing.  Remembering to exhale.

And you know what?  It does make me feel happier, and therefore the girls are happier.  We laugh, joke, and have fun, even though there is still a layer of sadness underneath the veil of sunshine.  I realized that who I am never really went away; I just lost sight of her for a while. My outlook on life is what drives me; it doesn’t have to be challenging or difficult just because it doesn’t fit into what I think it should be right now.  The reality is that it is exactly what it’s supposed to be right now. 

And even though it is still hard, and I am sad and missing what- and who- I have lost, I remind myself of everything that I still have- the love of two amazing kids, family and friends who support me, and a vast amount of potential and opportunity before me.  How lucky am I? 

So, does that mean that I have it all figured out?  That I have shed my last tear? Heck no!  But as I have told myself every morning when I wake up, I am one baby step closer to finding my way.  And yes, I realize that the plane hasn’t even left the tarmac yet.

Oh, and one last reminder...

Please make sure your seat belt is securely fastened at all times.

There is sure to be some turbulence along this flight.

Mourning

Mourning:  state of sorrow over a death or departure; the passionate and demonstrative activity of expressing grief.

It has been a rough week.

The past few days of transition, change and emotional upheaval have been very difficult for all involved.  There were numerous teary goodbyes with cherished family and friends.  The girls were quickly realizing that their lives were about to venture drastically into the unknown, and between the three of us we all were feeling a new emotion every few minutes.  Combine all of this with the final stages of packing, closing out the legal aspects, and oh yeah, coming to the realization that the time to leave was really here, well- it was a lot to take.

Tuesday night, as the Expedition was already packed bumper to bumper, I was making the final rounds of each room in the house searching for lost remnants that we might have left behind.  When I went into GG’s room, what I found proved more devastating than any of us realized; Goldie, her pet goldfish, was no longer among the living.


First, let me tell you about Goldie- or, the Wonder Fish as I liked to call him.  Goldie was a gift from Santa when GG was 4.  Let me remind you that she is 10 going on 11, so yes, that makes the goldfish 6 years old.  Seriously, I didn’t even know that was possible.  In all honesty, we were concerned about him being able to make the trip, and in the end it might have been a blessing in disguise because, holy cow that could have been a real tragedy if it had happened on I-75. But even with that being said, I still looked up to the ceiling and just said, “Really?!?!”  


So after one last round of fun with the neighborhood gang, and all of the I-will-miss-yous were complete, GG came home and M and I proceeded to tell her.  She was devastated.  She had that sad, soulful cry that comes from deep inside your heart- right from where it is broken.  We did our best to console her, but being the sensitive and loving person she is, she just took the loss straight to heart. 


We then had to tell Belle, and while this was not her fish, she suddenly was sobbing huge tears, and it was from that same place- from deep inside her heart. 


Hearing both of my girls so broken, not to mention my own sense of loss and heartbreak I was feeling that day, I found myself crying that deep, soulful cry right alongside them.  There we were, the three of us, all crying together, and at this point it really didn’t have anything to do with the goldfish.


Leaving Wednesday was even more of a challenge than I thought it would be.  I had already moved, so I didn’t really give it a second thought.  But right before I pulled out of the driveway, it hit me- I would never return to this house again.  I remember when we bought the house- man, did we feel like we had “made it”.  The huge Luau party we had there, feeding the ducks in the backyard pond, the measurements on the wall from every birthday… lots of memories.  So as I drove in the pre-dawn darkness and the girls still slept, I cried as quietly as I could and mourned the loss of that, too. 


Arriving at the Georgia house Wednesday night- another heavy dose of reality.  After tucking the girls into bed after such a long day, GG said to me “this just doesn’t feel like my life.” Oh, girl- how true those words are.  I told her that I knew exactly how she felt.  After being on the road so much for work, I have made a significant cut in my travel in order to be here for the girls.  I know it’s obviously the right thing, and I can’t tell you how happy I am to have them here, but in so many ways it’s just different than the life I am used to leading. My job, my daily schedule, my personal connections, my support system, my well known surroundings- all changed- and some parts just gone.


After the kids were asleep, I head down to my room- the little sanctuary that I have come to know and love. I slide into bed with it's crisp white sheets but still all cozy and warm, and I sleep really well- it’s good to be back in this space that I have made my own.


This morning, I woke up, and after my sleepy headed children made their way downstairs, I make them a special breakfast of chocolate chip pancakes.  Sitting at the table, looking out into the backyard, I noticed this at the back near the fence:

This rose bush was a scrubby twig that I had transplanted a few months back, not really knowing what it was going to look like, or for that matter if it was going to take at all.  And here, on our first morning together, were 3 red roses in full bloom waiting to greet us.  Yes, I will totally take it as a sign, or whatever you want to call it.  Remembering that I really had not held out much hope for this twig, and that it is already blooming into something beautiful, well, it gives me hope and is a reminder that the best is yet to come.

Morning: Originally referred to sunrise, it is the start of a new day.    

Good Morning, indeed.

Cleaning Out My Closet

It's almost 1:00 am, and I can't sleep.

So many thoughts swirling around in my head, so many emotions pulsing in my heart, re-living so many moments- good and bad- in the slide show that is my memory.

I never question that this is right.  I even think to myself, "If I knew then what I know now...", well, you might have been reading this a year ago. 

Regardless, I am where I am, which crazy enough, is right where I am meant to be.

I have never been one to hold onto a lot of "stuff".  I hate clutter, and prefer simple, clean lines.  My rules are simple- when in doubt, throw it out.  Generally, if I have not used something in the past 12 months, I get rid of it.  Clearly, I just didn't need it that bad if I have not found a use for it in the past year.  This has proven to be a true gift when the house you are moving to is much smaller, and has 1/9 the amount of storage space.  You are challenged with how badly do you really want that cupcake holder that you know was so cute in theory but you have never used because let's face it, you are a working mom and don't always have time to make personalized cupcakes for every birthday.  If you decide to keep it, you will have to find a place for it, and it will inevitably take the space that you could have put something else... say, the bread maker that you got as a wedding present (one of 4 by the way) because you are sure that now you will have time to make that organic whole grain with flax bread recipe. Sure I will. 

The exception for me is items with emotional ties.  You might have read my previous post where I mentioned that I still had the roses that M gave me for our Junior Prom- those pink sweetheart roses that became paper thin and brittle over time, but yep, still had them.  While moving, I came across other such items.  Some (really bad) teenager poems from my first real heartbreak, a letter my mom wrote to me in college, newspapers from 9/11, the rose baby blanket that we brought both girls home in. And these are just a few.  I kept thinking- what do I do with this stuff?  In the end, I did weed out some of it, but kept those items that really spoke to who I was in that moment, and, I thought, might help provide the girls some insight that mom really did experience some of the same things they might go through one day.


It's no coincidence that emotionally, I am doing the same "cleaning" in my life.  I am trying to think the same way- do I have room in my limited amount of storage space for this?  In doing so, I think I must be trying to prove to myself that I can successfully handle anything on my own without making any emotional attachments, because Hell, that is really painful right now. And by painful I mean that I long for these attachments, these "things", these relationships, but trying to be close to anyone- even friends- just makes things...cluttered... while I try to figure life out.  I'm finding that I have a lack of trust; in myself to be fair to these relationships, and also in not getting hurt by them.  And while I really liked the way this "stuff" looked in my life, I am questioning if they all fit with the new decor.  It certainly doesn't mean that I don't want to be a quasi-hoarder, wrap my arms around it all, and scream "Don't touch!"  But I am trying to be mature- lead with my head and not my heart. This goes against everything about me as a person- one who thrives on relationships and that personal connection- but again, trying to see through the clutter in the short term. I hope that one day these relationships will end up being the signature pieces in my life that I knew they would be all along, but who knows?  Maybe my decorating taste will change and I will suddenly want to go all Victorian and Antiquey.  Highly doubtful, but still.


And just in case you are wondering, there is a garage sale somewhere selling a really great cupcake stand and bread maker- both barely used and just waiting for a place to call home.