When I was little, we used to watch the TV Chipmunk Christmas special that my parents had recorded on VHS. In it, Alvin has a dream and yells out in his sleep, "Money! I need money!"
I feel you, Alvin. For nearly a year, with the exception of December, I have been solely responsible for paying the daycare costs of my daughters. Their dad refused to help. After all, it serves me right for filing for divorce.
Now I have a new baby and more expenses. But money isn't really my only problem. I was raised to be self reliant. The idea of depending on another person to take care of my needs, at my very core, terrifies me and outwardly makes me feel like a failure. When my oldest daughter wanted a TV for the apartment, I told her we couldn't afford it. She quipped, "It's Ok. Grandma will get us one" and I died a little bit inside. My children should be able to look to me if they need something and know that I can provide it.
So yesterday I applied for a part time job. I keep hitting walls when I try to get hired in my field, so maybe I'll have better luck staying where I am and adding hours in my spare (?) time. This has the added benefit of keeping me busy.
I do know that I can't let myself fail in this. My kids deserve to have the best I can give them. And I intend to give it to them.
A few days ago, I went to a movie with an acquaintance and afterward, we decided mutually that we should get to know each other better, which, considering my lack of an active social circle, can't possibly be a bad thing. (Shut up, anxiety. I'm trying to knock those walls down. ) We were exchanging questions and he said, "You'll have to tell me about [your son] sometime." A few moments later he added, "...and your girls. They clearly have your heart." That first sentence, blinking bright against the black on my iPhone struck me so profoundly. It's a simple request. "Tell me about your son." The innocuous reason he asked that question was simply because he knows that my son is important to me and wants to know more about the people I care about. However, when I read it, it struck me how I would seriously answer what my children truly mean to me and how I would honestly describe them. Not in the funny things they do, or the sweet things th...
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