Daddy's and Daughters

Happy Father's day to all the wonderful fathers I know. This post is dedicated to my ex husband. Although my profile says I am a single mother of one, and on paper that's definately true, thanks to Steve, I am not a single parent.

Many of the blogs I read have very negative things to say about ex husbands and fathers in general. I want to tell the other side of the story. We all have negative things to say about our ex husbands ( and they about us), that's why we are divorced. However just because you are not the world's greatest spouse doesn't make you a bad parent.

Steve and I had a very hard time when we first divorced. There was a lot of animosity and hard feelings, fortunately we were able to sheild Mo from most of that. As time has passed we have formed a very friendly relationship, we even get along with the other people in each other's lives. ( Except for that one woman, I won't name names, he knows who she is)

But this is about father's, not ex spouses. Lots of fathers and mothers are deadbeats, I'm not denying that, but tons aren't. Steve pays child support, pays for her braces, school fees, whatever else Mo needs. It's never an argument, she is his child and he loves her.

Steve is there when Mo needs him. When she had surgery on her mouth he took the day off work to come and hold her hand while they put her under and to sit with me while we waited.

When it was over he was the one who carried her to the car and up three flights of stairs because the anesthesia hadn't worn off enough for her to walk. He stayed with us when I had to give her pain medication, just to make sure she didn't have an allergic reaction.

When Mo is being a typical teenage and I'm at my wits end, it's her Daddy I call. We are in this together, we make decisions for her, together, we have difficult conversations with her, together. We are united as her parents and as much as she whines about being from a broken home, I think her foundation is much stronger than lots of children of divorce.

Daddy is the one Mo calls and uses her baby voice, not me. Daddy is the one she wants when she is scared, not me. Daddy is the one she talks to when I'm being unreasonable. Mo is a Daddy's girl and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Now in addition to our beautiful baby girl, Steve has another daughter, and he is just as atttentive to her as he is to Mo. Initially Mo was not happy about sharing her Daddy, she would much rather I have fifteen kids than to have to share her Daddy with one sibling. Mo was afraid, after all, she was Daddy's special girl. She was so afraid that this new little intruder was going to take her place in Daddy's world. Steve told her no matter how many kids he has that she would always be special, and then, he showed her it was the truth. Mo is able to love her sister with all her heart, and share her Daddy, because he showed her that some things never change.

Mo was born on Father's Day and I always joked and said Steve was never getting anything else for Father's Day, after all, how do you top that? The truth is that the three of us got the greatest gift that day. Steve and I got Mo, and Mo got the best Daddy any little girl could want.

Thank you Steve for giving our little girl the foundation and love she needs to grow into a strong, intelligent woman who knows she doesnt' have to settle. After all, Daddy loves her best.

Letting go

High school graduation. How does it sneak up on us so quickly? This past weekend my sister, my niece, my daughter and I drove to Ruidoso New Mexico to my nephew’s high school graduation.

It still seems very surreal. Where did the time go? I remember when I was younger, when my daughter was younger, hearing people say that they still think of their children as young children, no matter their age. I thought they were crazy.

Now I know how it feels. My niece is almost 22 but when I think of her and she is not standing right in front of me, the picture of her that lives in my mind, she is about three, tiny little face and a huge mass of out of control curls, running through the house in her nightgown saying “ Maggie Simpson, Maggie Simpson, I’m gonna babysit you!” We have no idea why she said that, but it was her thing for a while.

My nephew will be eighteen in a few weeks, and just graduated from high school, he has a car, a job, a plan for college, but when I think of him, he is all dressed up climbing on the bus for the first day of kindergarten. His little boy comb over smoothly in place, holding Scooby doo because he is scared.

We all went out to dinner and we followed him because he knows the area, it seems so weird that my sister’s baby has a life we know nothing about, drives streets we’ve never been driven, eats at restaurants we’ve never seen. He valet parked his car life he had been doing it all his life. Who taught him these things that we haven’t been part of, or was he just born knowing his place is this world and navigating accordingly?

My daughter is closing in on sixteen, as she reminds me daily. I know I need to let go, she really doesn’t have a life because I’m too over protective. Her friends can come to our house but I don’t really let her run with the crowd. It’s too scary, so many things can happen. I know I need to ease up and let her have a life, every time I give myself that little pep talk, I’m right at the brink of letting go, and then I realize, I’m not ready, we still have to wait, just a little longer.

How do you let go? I know she needs to make some mistakes while I can still guide her, but the thought of her getting hurt is too much. Especially knowing that getting hurt today is way different than getting hurt when I was sixteen, and could have much longer lasting repercussions.

So, I hope one day she forgives me, I’m new at this letting go thing. When I take my niece to the trax station I still remind her not to cross in front of the train, or to watch out for cars in the parking lot, she’s twenty one and I still can’t stop.

Maybe if I had a house full of kids it would be easier, the letting go would happen naturally, almost without thinking about it because when the oldest were stretching their wings you would still be so busy with the younger ones, and then when the younger ones get to that age you would know they would be ok. Or maybe I’m just up in the night and we all lay awake and wonder how we can let our babies out the door into this mean old world without us.

Happy Birthday to me!

It's official, I'm a grown up. 45. How did this happen? I remember when I was thirty and I thought surely by the time i was forty I would have my s**t together. Now I'm forty-five and have no idea what it would mean to have my s**t together. Oh, on the outside it all looks good and under control. I own my home, have a good job, a kid I'm proud of, great friends, all the trappings of the grown up world. Inside, I'm 17 and wondering where the hell I am and how I got here and will there be a train or a bus or a plane, or at least instructions about how to get on with my life? Where is the serenity, the peace, the companionship, the person who knows me better than I know myself?
I'm trying not to get to nuts over the fact that I don't have anyone in my life right now. Most of the time I'm really okay with it, but then sometimes I'm not. Sometimes I wonder will I find someone to love again, and if I do, will it be that love that gives you a safe place to land or are we all so damaged by middle age that as much as we want to love another person we still spend way too much time protecting ourselves to really let anyone in?
Who will I be once my baby girl no longer needs me everyday to give her lunch money and make her dinner and take her to the mall, who will need me then? It's happening faster than I ever imagined it would, soon she will be sixteen, she is already talking about where she wants to go to college, and in her voice I hear what she doesn't say. My only child wants her space, she wants a chance to not be the center of her divorced parents world, she wants to be where I am not.
So many changes, so many things stay the same. In the meantime I will work in the garden, I love the soil between my fingers, watching things grow. Yesterday, my official birthday, four crocuses opened their little white faces to me, happy birthday, spring is here. The future is full of opportunities, I just need to figure out how to embrace them.