“Ohhhhhhh sinner why don’t you answer, somebody’s knocking at your door……”  Love it.

I am born and raised Catholic, but I hesitate to speak or write holy things, it just seems unnatural and a bit awkward to me.  How can that be?     

Well, recently I heard someone read a bit of holiness aloud and I’ve been wanting to write about it, but have the been doing the whole yes… no… yes…maybe… no… yes…..you get the picture. 

But here goes, I am just wanting to share, not push, just share:

“When we  pray ‘Holy Mary Mother of God pray for us sinners now’, the Blessed Mother comes instantly to your side to pray with you.  And she does not come alone.  She brings angels with her.  And not just one or two, for she is the Queen of Angels, so choirs of angels come with her.”  

There was more to the reading, but it was this first part that really, really hit me the most.

I pictured myself in a quiet moment, saying a little prayer, asking for guidance, clarity, courage, patience and having the Blessed Mother next to me with her choir of angels surrounding me, all nodding their heads, pulling my prayers into them.

Do you ever have those moments when something grabs you completely off guard?  Teaching at a Catholic school, I hear a lot of prayers and quite honestly rarely feel moved by them.  Usually, if anything, I feel the opposite……turned off by “old fashioned” words that mean nothing to me, the formality and rote memory-ness of it all can be discouraging. 

I know……for shame.

But those words about our Holy Mary, I was in a slight trance listening to them.  It was most definitely a “moment” for me.

I made a copy of the reading and it’s now folded and tucked away in my nightstand.

I have reread it several times and the “picture” I have of Mary and her choir of angels rushing to my side to listen to my concerns and hear my thanks is just so, so awesome to me.

This little drop of Mary awareness, came right on the tails of me reading an equally amazing post, There’s Something About Mary, written by a fellow Michigan blogger, Dwija.    

It all has me feeling pretty connected to her, this Mary, the Mother of all mothers.  

So much so that I’ve been wondering where I can get a beautiful looking Mary figurine.  Not one of those creepy ones you see at the dollar store or in the church gift shop.  And, no I am not interested in planting a Mary statue on my front lawn.

I would love a low key and simple Mary to have in my home.  Not that she is simple as in boring, but I like to think of her as simple as in not a lot of fanfare.  She is a mother, like me, plain and simple.     

So, hello Mary, thanks for knocking at my door.

******These words were spoken by Father Gabriel Amorth, Chief Exorcist of the Vatican.  What a title, right?  Chief Exorcist, wow.  While this particular piece was very incredible to me, Father Amorth is the same man who believes Harry Potter and yoga are the work of the devil.  Yeah, I am not on board with all that, but maybe he and I can agree to disagree about some things.

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The daily grind of………Soccer practices, basketball practice, work meetings, school clubs, laundry, dinner, dishes, making lunches, walking the dog, trying to go to Jazzercise, kids wanting to hang with friends, dry cleaners, bank, miscellaneous last minute errands, and oh the homework!

My “single mom, hear me roar” glory came to an ugly head the other night.  And I mean U.G.L.Y.

I’m just going to complain here for a minute…….or two……..

The last few weeks have been busy.  Busy with all of the things listed above and throw in a 7th grade band concert, tutoring, and a 4th grade musical.  Oh and two evening trips to the phone store because my brand new iPhone wasn’t working correctly.

So the other night, Valentine’s Day night to be exact, when we arrived home at 6:00 after a day of work/school, an extra after school work meeting, a tutoring session and picking the kids up from 2 different locations, Handsome wanted to hang with the neighbor kids.

I said, “No”. and all hell broke lose.

He pitched a fit.  Like a three year old.  And Mama wasn’t having it.

I yelled….. in My Man Voice.

The dog cowered.   It was her birthday, by the way, she turned seven. 

Kind of what Maggie looks like when I bring out My Man Voice

I “escorted”  fit-throwing child into his bedroom, and he continued with the bout of crazy, kicking the door and all.

Mom didn’t give in.  I fought back tears though, with a quivering chin and teary eyes, but I did not give in.

Eventually, he calmed, came out and apologized.

I began to make dinner, threw in a load of laundry and the kids started on homework.

It wasn’t long until I heard, “Mom I need help”….”Mom I need help.”

An echo?

No, they both needed help, right then, while I was trying to make dinner, after all of the chaos of the day so far.

Lovey was studying for a cell test, writing about character internal and external conflict and working on linear equations.

Handsome was working on four, yes four,  language arts worksheets, a math mixed review sheet, a three-page math study guide, and studying for a science test.  Oh, and he was supposed to “read for enjoyment” for 20 minutes. Sure.

My throat clamped, my chin quivered again.  On the verge of a break down?  Perhaps.

I cannot do it all.  I need a break, I thought.

Coming in to investigate my non-response to their calls for help, Handsome asked, “Are you crying?”

“No” (I really wasn’t, but probably looked a little insane) “I just need a break”, I told him, “I just need a minute.”

Single mom at it’s absolute worst.

Not enough minutes in the day.  Not enough eyes, ears, arms to help.

I also quickly realized I wouldn’t make it to Jazzercise again that night.

The Year of Barb was in jeopardy! 

I took a five minute breather in my room, pulled myself together and we got through the night.

But man, do I HATE HOMEWORK!

It was the stupid homework, the endless, daily piles of homework that did me in.

Before the official end of the night, we did manage a cheerful round of “Happy Birthday” to the dog and presented her with a bone for her birthday present.

I’m not looking for pity.  Not in the least.  We all have days like this.  But to top it all off, I woke up the next morning at 5:30 as usual, turned on the shower and the water was frigid and stayed frigid.  The pilot light was out on the hot water heater.

I contemplated trying to relight it myself, but the directions were lengthy, and involved things like “If you do this or that and smell gas then go to a neighbors house and call 911.”  So instead, I washed my hair with freezing cold water in the kitchen sink and lathered on some deodorant.

The pilot is back on now, and the flow of hot water has resumed. 

I know my night of grief is nothing compared to the hardships and heartache of many, so I’m better now. 

Writing it all down, helped!  And I know someday I can reread this post and laugh……right?

For now, I have a long weekend to catch up and re-energize!

I went to Jazzercise last night and am fine tuning my resume and LinkedIn account today.

YOB is back on track!

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One of my goals for the new year was to tackle any lingering issues I might have regarding my divorce.  I don’t know why some insecurities and concerns have lingered so long, it will 4 years in May since my divorce was finalized.

Some people seem to move on so quickly.  I thought I was one of them.  And I was moving quickly at first and then I hit a giant brick wall, fell down and stayed there for way too long.

Something I never did was join a divorce support group or talk to a counselor.  Looking back, I think I could have used it, but I had such a grand support system of family and friends, so I used them instead. 

Fast forward to now……..I signed up for a 10 week class, titled Beyond Divorce, which is being offered through a local church.

I was ready to go and mingle with like minded people and tie up any post-divorce mental loose ends.

The first class was last Monday evening and I won’t be going back.  And for good reason!

That first meeting was an overview of the program, scheduled speakers, discussion topics, etc.

After passing out a syllabus, the woman with the microphone went on and on about the course, and I began to literally and mentally check off all of the things I have accomplished during and after my divorce.  I ended up checking off everything on the list.  Seriously all 10 topics…I checked off.  Did that, don’t need that, quickly learned that, already figured that out….and so on.

The program will focus on things like legal/lawyer questions and concerns, how to communicate with your ex, custody and child related issues, the impact of changing relationships, and so on.

So, while some participants shifted in their seats as the coordinator discussed the exercise where everyone will “share their stories” in small groups, I was silently feeling relieved. 

Relieved that I had already hurdled these topics. 

Relieved that I didn’t have many loose ends to tie up afterall. 

And yes, relieved that I didn’t have to “share my story” with a group of strangers.  Not that I would be scared to do so, I kinda dig that kind of stuff, but I’ve already been there and done that.  That story is old, I don’t need to rehash it. 

I am ready for a new story and I’m soaking in all of the possibilities that this year holds for me.

Well then, I guess I am officially “beyond divorce”. 

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One of my goals for this year is to find a new job.  As a single mom, my teacher’s salary just isn’t cutting it.  And while I love so many aspects of my role as a teacher, I have come to realize that my current position provides few opportunities for professional and financial growth.  And I want that.  While I love helping the children learn and grow, I want to learn and grow as well and be fairly compensated for it.   That’s not asking too much, right?

I recently spoke to a career coach on the telephone.  We will be meeting in person next week to begin my process of “where do I go from here?”.

In the meantime, he asked me to take a personality test, The Jung Personality test,  so that we can use the results as a launching point.

The test separates people into 4 main personality types and under each of those 4 main types there are 4 subgroups. 

After taking the test, I found that my personality type is ENFJ (Extrovert, iNtuitive, Feeling, Judging),  a.k.a. Teacher/Mentor.

OK, so I am thrilled to have results that so obviously speak to who I really am, but I must admit, it makes me really wonder “where do I go from here”?    If I am currently doing what matches my personality, then where and how do I look for something better?

Well, after reading about and google-ing the ENFJ type I have found there are many careers that involve the ENFJ teacher personality type.  It sure is interesting and exciting to see that many of the career options on the list are ones that I have already contemplated. 

Here is a brief description about what the ENFJ type means:  The ENFJ personality type

The only part of the description that made me wonder was the “natural leadership” part.  I have never thought of myself as a leader.  However, I must admit, that my role as single mom has definitely forced me to make decisions and be the leader even when I didn’t want to.  And in doing so, I have found it easier and easier to take on that role in other areas of my life.  It is easier to speak my opinion and much easier for me to object when I don’t agree with something.  So, while I view myself as more of a team player and not so much a leader, I do think I have gained some leadership qualities over the last few years.

All of this being said, I am so eager to meet with my career coach in person to start this exciting process and to hear his take on my professional life and it’s possible next path.   

And how encouraging to know that I am on the right path……that I have spent the majority of my working life doing a job that fits my personality.  It makes me feel more confident knowing that I won’t be wasting all of the skills and knowledge I have acquired in the  last 10 years of my professional life.   Knowing that many of my teacher skills are highly transferable is encouraging!

The personality test itself is a set of 72 “yes” or “no” questions.  I answered each one as honestly as I could.   Some were very easy to apply as “yes” or “no” and some I wished there was a “maybe” or “sometimes” or “explain your answer” section.  But the fact that I answered as honestly as possible and received results that really do describe me, is pretty cool.

Try it out for yourself!  You can find and take the test here:  Jung Personality Test

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The title of the story was What do Fish Have to do with Anything written by Avi.  We giggled at the title and we were certain the story would be absolutely LAME. 

Well, as I began to read, the story quickly drew me in.

My Lovey’s eyes began to droop, but my eyes perked up and rapidly marched across the lines of the story.

The main characters were a boy, his single mom and a bum.  Without rambling on and on, the message of the story is “People always need more than they say”.

The mom was unhappy.

The boy wanted to know why.

The mom said she was fine and didn’t like to talk about “nonsense”.

A teacher told the boy there are fish that live in a cave and they are blind, because why do you need to see when you live in a dark cave?

The boy thought his mom was like the fish.  Sort of.

The bum enlightened the boy with the words “People always need more than they say”.

As I write this, I am realizing that I’m doing an awful job trying to retell the message.  It has been a few months since I read it…..

Anyway, in a nutshell, that night, when I was reading that story aloud, I paused a few times to take it all in….this awkwardly titled story about blind fish was speaking to me.  Now that is nonsense!

My daughter was sleeping by the end and I sat there with a big “Well, I’ll be….” look on my face.

It made me think…….”What am I doing dwelling in this yucky (think dark cave with creepy blind fish) “where do I go from here” post-divorce state of mind.  Snap out of it woman!”

So it was the fish, the blind fish, who have no choice but to live in that dark, dreary cave, that caught my attention, in some weird way. 

How stupid is it, that it takes a simple story, in a middle school literature book, to speak to me?  Oh well…..

So, things are going to happen and change.  As much as I hate to be all hopeful, for fear of the old jinxing thing,  and think “This is MY year!”, I’m going to do it anyway. 

I am done with this cycle of post-divorce uncertainty!  It is pointless, has done not a single positive thing for me and could have turned me into a blind fish, shut-in kind of person.  Sort of. 

I am so, so, so ready for the happy, confident, independent, adventurous, single mom phase!

For the record….this is not my best post.  My mind is a jumble of thoughts and I haven’t posted anything here in over 2  months!  So, I am just going to hit “publish”, so I can get to the next one.  Hopefully, sooner than 2 months.

And for my few family and friends who have asked for some new material and are sick and tired of seeing the “goose poop shirt story”, here you go!

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What’s on your shirt? I questioned, after I picked up Handsome from school the other day.

Oh, that’s goose poop.

How did you get goose poop on your shirt? 

I slid into a pile of it during one of my football practices.

You had that on your shirt when you got dressed this morning?

Yeah.

Here’s what went wrong:

In the mornings, it is not uncommon for me to choose clothes for my children by the light of hall.  So while I’m not completely blind when reaching into their closets, I don’t get a thorough look at things.  But, silly me, I assume the things that are hung in the closet are clean and relatively “wearable” and I know that specific shirt was washed and it appeared very wearable, but obviously I only viewed him from the front that morning.

I also, obviously, didn’t know about this unsightly stain prior to washing it, therefore no pre-treatment occurred.

So, you wore that shirt to school, knowing there was a huge stain of goose poop on the back?

You put it on my bed, Mom.

Did your teacher see it?

Yeah, she asked what happened to my shirt.

Of course she did……. What did you say?

I told her it was goose poop from football practice.

So she knows I sent you to school wearing a shirt with poop on it…..great.

Lessons learned:

1.  Goose crap does not come out in the regular wash cycle.  Do other moms know this?

2.  Do not trust my son to question any outfit I lay out for him.

3.  In the early hours, torture the children with their bedroom lights while fishing for clothes in their closets.

4.  I am so THAT parent.  Whoever that parent is, I am her.  The one that teachers talk about in the lounge.

Since then, I treated the stain and washed it again.  The green poop stain remained.  So like any good, attentive mother would do, I tossed it into the garbage. 

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I’m a mom with two kids who are active in outdoor sports.

Rain to me means a much needed night off.  A night to come home from work, lock the door and not step foot off the front porch until the following morning.

Between Monday and Friday we travel back and forth to seven practices.   I’m not going to lie, it is exhausting.

So when the sky darkens and the words “hour after hour of pouring rain” come out of the weatherman’s mouth, I silently rejoice.

I waited all day yesterday for the official word. 

At 3:15, I opened up the highly anticipated email from the soccer club, and the choirs sang as I read “PRACTICE CANCELLED”.

Glory and praise!

One down, one to go.

Cancelled football is much harder to come by.  Football coaches are hard core.  A direct hit of lightening is about the only thing that might make them waver.  So I wasn’t expecting much in the way of a magical email from the football coach yesterday.

But it came.  PRACTICE CANCELLED.

Stop it. 

No commitments past 4:00 p.m.?  Pure joy.

My night involved a little Judge Judy, some potato skins for dinner, a glass of wine, a relaxed homework atmosphere, a bit of Internet browsing and a decent bed time.    On a Wednesday.  Crazy talk.

“Practice cancelled”, is perhaps one of my most favorite phrases.  Does that make me an awful mom?

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Children and parents were devastated and the local news stations called for the residents to take a stand!  It wasn’t long until you heard about people dropping off cash donations to the zoo.  We the people, were hoping that our crumpled dollars and loose change might possibly make a difference.

The media raced to the scene of these cash drop-offs and not only were there adults giving money, there were images of small children giving their pennies to help “save the zoo”.  My animal loving daughter, who was 7- years- old at the time, caught wind of “the end of the zoo crisis”, emptied her piggy bank into a plastic baggy and begged me to take her to the zoo, so she could give her money too.

So I did.

I took her to the zoo one evening, and we were on t.v., and she handed over her piggy bank savings and the reporter with the microphone said what a nice little girl she was.

Amazingly, the zoo was saved.  Could it be that the little children and their ceramic piggies saved the day?

No, of course not.   They didn’t need our money.  The whole thing was just a lot of unnecessary, misleading hype.   I realize that now.

So, the other day, when I opened up my local newspaper, and saw on the front page that the zoo has unveiled a million dollar carousel, I was a little surprised.

Five years ago, they were planning to ship the animals off, crate by crate, but somehow one million dollars was found, received, collected….whatever, and now they have hand-carved animals on poles worth $1,000,000.00.

Huh.

So, I say, all the little children who emptied their piggy banks should get a lifetime of free rides on that carousel.

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The assembly was interactive and there came a time when the MC asked for “teacher participants” to come up on stage.  I accepted with two other teachers. 

Here’s my memory of what happened next:

So we get onto the stage and the MC announces that the three of us are going to have a jump roping contest.

It sounded more like jjuummpp rrooppiinngg contest as if the world had slowed and his words were stretched and exagerrated.

Have you had a baby?  Then you know where this story is headed.

The contest was for the three of us to jump for one minute straight, while our jumps were being counted by a Radio Disney worker.  I remember I was wearing army green khakis and the jumping began.

Jump.

Jump.

Jump.

Jump. Squeeze.

Jump.  Squeeze.

Oh my Lord, the squeezing isn’t working, I thought panic stricken.

I was five jumps in and already sweating with fear of self-urination.

I looked out into the crowd of my beloved students and again it was like everything was in slow motion.

Juuuuuummpp!!!!.….. the  children were cheering……..Yyeeaahh Mmrrss. Mmmmmmm

Jump. Squeeze.

Jump.

Pee.

Oh my God.

Jump.

Pee.

Oh My God.

Jump.

Seriously pee is going down my leg.

So I purposely tripped myself with the rope so I could stop.

I gave an “Awww shucks, finger snap” look toward the crowd…..

And then…….What????

Why are they cheering for me to start again????

This is the longest minute ever.

My co-workers are smiling, jumping, and laughing because I “fell”.

Since the longest minute ever wasn’t nearing an end apparently, I then had to pretend that there was a “situation” with my shoe.

So I pretended to struggle with my shoe for a few seconds like an asshole clown, with wet underwear .

Finally about an hour later, the minute was up.

“Awww shucks, finger snap” again and I climbed down the stage steps and left the gym to go into the bathroom.

The severity of the “accident” was to the degree that I had to throw my underwear in the garbage.

I tried to see the damage done to my army green khakis and I think it was mostly right in my crotch and down the inner part of my pants.

That’s what I think at least.  I never did get any great confirmation on that.

So I go back into the gym and decide I must stand in the back for the rest of the assembly, legs spread wide, standing like a man, in hopes of a little drying off.

I see the assistant principal standing back there also.  I walk over and tell her I peed my pants on stage.  She snorted.

The story has been rehashed several times in the teacher’s lounge. 

It’s always grand to poke fun at the lady who clearly did not do her kegels.

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Thoughts like “Seriously, why do they always have 8 bikes strewn across their lawn?”  or “Ewwww, I’m sure she didn’t shower today and I think she had those clothes on yesterday” and ”Her kid is outside, eating another fudgesicle, without socks or shoes on, and it’s November?”

Clearly, I see the truth now, but back then I just did not know.

The driveway situation allowed me to get a full inside view of my neighbor’s minivan every time I came in or out of my car.  Her van was a disaster, all the time.  It was a sty of bags, wrappers, crumbs, shoes, cups, stains, and smudges.  Her car was full of crap and she would schlep those kids in and out constantly like it didn’t even phase her.

“Never.”  I thought.  

Fast forward to, well, today is as good a day as any.  I have an admission.

I slept in the backseat of my car yesterday, which was parked in my daughter’s middle school parking lot, for an hour, during daylight hours, while both kids were at practice.  Yes.  I climbed into the backseat and was sleeping.  Not resting.  Sleeping.   I found the bag of clothes meant for The Salvation Army to be a fairly decent pillow.  It was peaceful and quite comfortable and I really enjoyed napping between 6-7 p.m. 

I also used an empty sandwich baggie as a kleenex.  

Where did I get the empty sandwich baggie?  The floor of my car, of course.

And why wouldn’t a mother, of all people, think to have kleenex in the car, some might wonder?   Well, I do think about it, when I’m at home, usually in bed for the night, and I think “I need to put a box of kleenex in the car”.  But then in the morning….nothing.

So, I am now the neighbor lady.  At any given time, in my car, I have empty coffee cups, bag(s) of clothes (for The Salvation Army, friends, or returns), crumbs, the little black things from the football field or indoor soccer field, sporting equipment, enough pieces of grass and clumps of mud to make a decent strip of sod, loose change, pens/pencils, foldable chairs, blankets…..and the list goes on and on…….

Do people question my shower schedule?  Do the words “deranged beast” cross their minds when they see me schleping my kids in and out of my foresaken SUV day after day after day????

I don’t really want to know.  And actually at this moment, I don’t really care.  For now, I do what I gotta do, and I know there are  enough moms hauling kids around, throwing hard bagels out of the car window (for the birds of course), and nervously laughing when another adult suggests coming into their car, and those moms and I……. we “get” each other.

Ahhhhh, motherhood.  This gem of cartoon says it all. 

Luckily I do not share a driveway with anyone.

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