A blue notebook.

Saturday, May 30, 2009

lastnight i was spending time with my daughters before time to take them to their dads. My stepdaughter found a notebook that I immediately recognized but had not seen in almst 2 years.

It was Arielle's journal from her first year at traditional school. I read it cover to cover in 5 minutes, most of it was made up stories. Since I never saw it at the end of last school year, I wasn't quite sure what their prompts were in school for the assignments. I mean Arielle wrote that mom is scary bcause she made beef stew. LOL

I held my breath through most of it, because last year was pretty rough. If *I* was unhappy, and I was, then you know my child was and she might have expressed it in her journal. She did. There was alot of frying brains and sadness in her words.

I did not, however, expect the book itself, or the dates written on each page to hit me so hard. I spent the better part of 2 hours crying, remembering the night I bought this notebook...it rings out crystal clear in my head.My children were starting private school and they had to have 6 notebooks for class. The spriral dollar notebooks were unacceptable. It had to be the nonspiral, 3 dollar apiece notebooks. I spent 18 bucks on notebooks that night. It was the eve of their first day at school, peanuts and all. I'm at walmart at midnight trying to get everything they could need. All new uniforms, lunch food as they were not allowed to eat lunch provided (even though I qualified for free lunches at the time...thanks) I had 100 dollars i nmy newly opened up checking account. My total was way over 200. I had to call for more money. And then go get it. And then come back and have all my items rerung. I cried like a little girl that night in walmart...I had no job yet, I had to shove my kids off into the real world, and into a school that would pass judgment not onto the husband who raised his fist, but to the wife who had the balls to leave him. That's how it goes with some people I suppose. There are assholes all over Seymour who think *I* did something wrong. I actually had a few *churchgoers* asked me if i left just so i could sleep around....and people wonder why i have rage issues! But that is how my precious little girl started school...with turmoil, with judgment, confused. Her mommy hurt so bad yet she knew her daddy was a good person. It didn't help that it took every penny I made just to buy lunches and pay for the nonstop *class fees* they had.

So Arielle went straight to public school this year. I have a good job, they can ride the bus system now, and voila, they get to eat lunch like regular kids. And who knew that the education was going to blow us out of the water. My child who hated to read last year, is reading on a middle school/almost high school level. It's been an awesome few months in their lives, development wise. Mommy gets sick and we are learning how to juggle that into life. I have to spend about 2 weeks out of the month doing nothing...but the other 2 weeks we try to make it up. They have discovered a huge love of reading to take up time. Which thrills me. Sure I'm pretty upset that I'm having health issues, but hopefully we can get answers soon. But at the end of this school year, I'm pretty damn proud of my kids' efforts and how far they came this year. I'm still in shock that next year I'll have a 5th grader, 2-2nd graders and a kindergartener in this home!

But that notebook...I realized as I cried that the dates, the messy 3rd grader writing, it represented a sad time in my life. It was like a knife stabbing me in the stomach. I looked at my darling husband and said..."Maybe I ought to just put this up so I don't have to look at it..." and he agreed. And it sits high up in our closet, waiting for the day that Arielle moves out and takes her stuff with her, or the day we have that talk about all that happened, and the 50 thousand things that went wrong in my first marriage to create that awful day that still haunts me. That's the thing with pain. It's there...you don't forget it. But you cry your tears, then you put it up high in the closet and move on with life. And lastnight, for the first time in a well, ever, I allowed myself to just let go and put it away.And today I am thankful I'm with somebody who understands that pain, who lifts me up, who I don't have to wonder if he's going to be there for me when I fall. I don't have to ask for his help, he just gives it. I don't have to justify the new shoes I wear home, he trusts my judgment with money (he probably shouldn't!) hell i don't have to justify anything! Who makes me laugh when I am happy, and holds me when I am down. Hell, he puts up wtih my crazy and that's a pretty amazing feat.

Life gave me a second chance.