Love Actually

I'm sitting here watching it again tonight. For the first time, I'm noticing how dated a lot of it is. The reference to 9/11, the VHS tape, Colin Firth without gray hair. But I still love the movie. It's part of my Christmas tradition, every much as White Christmas is. Tonight, it's my refuge from the insanity of the season. It's an oasis in the middle of tech week for Nutcracker and all of the holiday prep I should be doing instead of watching a movie.

I wonder what happened to all of the couples after the movie ended. Did they have their happily ever afters? Or did their stories end in heartbreak and sadness? And how much fun did Rowan Atkinson have with the gift wrap scene?

May you find a break if you can during this holiday season. From our house to yours, happy holidays.

Looking forward

J received her acceptance letter to her first choice college yesterday. She is over the moon and looking forward to moving to the other side of the state and almost 6 hours away. I'm starting to think about what life is going to be like without her commitments during the week and weekends. The problem is that I've forgotten what it was like before my life was intertwined with hers.

I'm not sure where I'm heading next year. I don't know if I want to  go back to school and finish my degree or maybe find a new hobby. Maybe I'll look for a career change. I know I have a whole world open to me, but I'm not sure of my place anymore. Somehow I've become just J's step-mom, another of the moms sitting at dance class.

I used to do plays, perform as part of an orchestra. We would go out for dinner, go see movies, spend time with family. It seems so long ago and just like yesterday all at the same time. But without the parent label, I'm afraid of being nothing, a remnant of myself.

How do I find myself again?

The beginning of the end

Today I registered J for dance for the last time. In just under 2 weeks, she starts her senior year. She knows where she wants to go to college and what she wants to major in next year. She is learning to drive and has her permit.

I'm begging for the days to go slower, for the year to not rush by so quickly. I have no idea what I'm going to do after she graduates. Some days I say I'll go back to school and finish my degree. Or maybe I'll change careers and become a Disney travel agent. After all, I love Disney. What I don't want to do is become a sad person who is so lost they can't find who they are anymore. I've been there. That was me during infertility.

So, here's my challenge to myself. I'm going to start looking at what to do as an actual grown-up. I'll happily take suggestions. I have a year left and then the nest will be empty. It's time to start thinking of myself again.

Hi

I feel  as if I should say that I'm not dead. Because I'm not, not really. There's so much that I could and should fill you in on for the last three years. But the reality is I've walked away from the space.  I walked away from this blog. We haven't adopted. We haven't gotten pregnant. In just over a year, J will go off to college and then I'll be an empty-nester at the ripe old age of 40. I'm not sure where the next phase of life is going to take me. I never thought I'd not have children of my own. I never pictured this as my life.

Part of me wants to rant and rail at the heavens over the unfairness of it all. But I know that doesn't help and won't change the reality that it didn't happen for us. There was no magic fix, not happy ending. The truth is that I still mourn the children I'll never have, the future I didn't get. The one with the 2.3 perfect children and the house with the picket fence. Okay, the house does have a picket fence. But it doesn't have the children.

When I stepped away, it was just supposed to be temporary. I was only going to take a month or so off from posting. Instead, it's stretched into almost 3 years. Now I find myself thinking of the next stage and how to move forward. I'm not taking this space down, but I am going to repurpose it eventually. I see a space sharing the adventures of a pair of young empty-nesters. A place where perhaps I can find myself again.