Insightful

It's been almost two months since I became a single lady (cue music), and the crazy thing is I am actually starting to really love it. 

Perhaps my awareness is more heightened, or I've just gone certifiable, but I kind of feel like if I was getting graded on my divorce, I would get an A. And please note, if I ever got anything lower than an A I would quickly slit my wrists. 

And in swiftly and precisely moving through the divorce process I have learned so much about myself. I've always strived to be self-aware. For instance, I know that I give off a very bitchy vibe. New people often say I hate them instantly, and I do. Unless I am out at a bar and have had a few cocktails, then clearly you are my best friend. 

Regardless how enlightened I may think I am, I have still noticed a few things about myself recently. 

1. Never under estimate the power of a good playlist. Lana Del Rey, Taylor Swift, Ani Difranco and Miranda Lambert are my family now. 

2. TV is impossible to focus on, therefore my knowledge of the daily ins-and-outs of all the Real Housewives is bordering on pathetic. 

3. I like candles, like I REALLY like candles. I have to have one lit in every room nearly all the time. Crap, did I blow that one out......

4. Exactly how many bobby pins can I find on the floor each day? I fear Derek used to walk behind me picking up bobby pins all day for 16 years. Surely me being alone now I will become over run by them and end up on Hoarders solely for my bobby pin collection. 

5. I still like my ex, and we can still laugh together. All beit I can also tell him what an idiot he is now more freely than before. So that is a good thing. 

6. Redecorating is a must. I hate everything in my house. Who bought this crap anyways? 

7. A three-year old can make me laugh so hard, and be careful because she is turning into a mini-you by the day. 

8. My friends are my lifeline and the silent hour in the AM before the house awakens is my happy place. 

9. Champagne and vodka, my real lovers. 

10. I really like going to sleep early, and my version of early is very soon after a toddler falls asleep. 

11. I don't own enough forks. Oh wait, they were just all dirty. How often did my ex do the dishes? 

12. I hate taking out the trash. Can I write that into the divorce decree? "Still comes over to empty trash and take to dumpster".

13. I am SO happy I no longer drive a mini-van. 

14. I hate to cook just for me and Lele. Boring and yes, one can live off Eggo waffles. 

15. I kind of wish I had a reality TV show camera around me, because I say some funny s**t to myself. And sarcasm can fall flat on a child. 

Divorce is like event planning. You are in a highly stressful time, requiring you to prepare for months and there are a million moving parts...except you also have to carry around these crazy emotions of hurt, anger, betrayal and sadness. You are expected to fully execute this perfect event (divorce) at the same time you have all these emotions you are wrestling with. You begin to feel out of control, and I do not like to feel out of control. So I've decided to GTD (Getting Things Done) my divorce. I have backwards mapped it, I have planned the next few months and given myself deadlines and written anticipated outcomes. I have spreadsheets, shared Google folders, workbooks, and agendas for my meetings with Derek. Because one thing I don't have to mention in the list above is that I am very capable person and everyone knows you don't f**k with an organized woman. 

27 Days

Twenty-seven days ago my life abruptly shifted. Same old story, a horrifically typical cliche, one that will forever change the path of my life and my daughter's. 

At first I was in a fog, a fog mostly consisting of tears and Taylor Swift. In those first 5 days I had this energy all over my body. I was hot and viciously cold. I layered up, but yet couldn't get warm. It was as if the love for a life you so desperately wanted was evaporating from my soul. I cried more than I ever thought I could. Not for him, it was never for him, but for what I thought my life was going to be. What I had promised Leilani she would have, I cried for the uncertainty of it all, the shear panic of doing it alone and yet the intense fire to show him that I am fine and will survive. 

I honestly don't know how I made it 27 days. I look at the calendar and I have no memory of hours, days, times, events. It is just a blur. One thing about crisis is you truly learn who your friends are and I can tell you, I have amazing friends and family. These amazing women have listened to me cry uncontrollably on the phone, opened their homes to me, listened to me share countless details and curse more than any classy lady possibly should. When I couldn't be alone they were there for me, when I needed to cry at my desk, or sit in their office because I was having a moment. With all the stuff that has risen to the surface, about the true farce that was my marriage, they have been there every step of the way, whatever I needed, just letting me know I am worth another breath and most importantly, Leilani will be OK; because I will be OK.

I feel like a limb has been amputated. My ex was my best friend, my rock, my everything for 16 years. Seeing that change into what it has become is scary and very sad. But no matter what, he is a good father and I will put my anger and disgust aside to make sure Leilani has him in her life. She deserves that. 

One thing that has come from this is an odd strength in the chaos. I have reconnected with friends, myself and my abilities. I have never been a wall flower, someone who relies on a man to do anything for her. Sure I will have to learn a few things, like how to operate a drill or secure an anchor (can you tell I'm redecorating), but I am excited to learn. 

I will be made no one's fool. And as they say; the best revenge is a life well lived. 

Goodbye Fingers

Today marks the last day my three year old daughter can find solace in sucking her two fingers. Today will be the last few hours I look the other way as she slyly puts them into her mouth and covers them with the crook of her elbow. Tomorrow, the habit must begin to break. 

I have been putting this day off for quite sometime; allowing the habit to take hold in the quiet moments of each day. Born addicted to opiates, from what I have been told, she was sucking on her fingers from day one. A little, bitty baby, in the hospital, strung out, scared and looking for comfort. Those two fingers gave that to her. 

For the six months she spent neglected in her crib, those two fingers were the hug from her bio mom she was missing, the kiss on the cheek she didn't get, the arms of her birth father that never wrapped around her. Those two fingers were her security blanket, her comfort, her safety net in a world that was too scary to brave alone. Like a superhero's cape, those two fingers allowed her to soothe herself to sleep, to wait another few hours until someone remembered to feed her. Those two fingers were there, when no one else was.

So thank you fingers. Thank you for comforting my daughter prior to our paths connecting. Thank you for giving her a way to fall asleep before I could rock her. Thank you for stepping in before her destined dad could hug her tightly and whisper he loved her. Thank you for always being there. As sad as it is it see you go, it brings me great joy to know you are no longer needed. 

She will be comforted. She will be safe. She will be loved. Your job is done, we will take it from here. 

More than a home

One month ago today I was flying to Chennai, India for my volunteer vacation. I was nervous, excited and not quite sure what I was getting myself into. My time in India was challenging, inspiring, eye-opening and as cliche as it may sound, life-changing. 

What they don't tell you about a volunteer vacation is the fact that it's hardwork. The hours are long, the environment is uncomfortable and the emotions are high. And honestly, I can't wait to do another one. 

Looking back on my time in India the one thing I haven't written about much is the children. Partly because it is too new, too raw, too close to my heart. Sure, it is easy to share stories of my free-time; the sarees, the Indian Ocean, the food, the friends I made. But sharing stories of the amazing children - those stories are too real. 

In the time I have been back, I can't help but think of the boys at the children's home, SEAMs. Most without parents, some with one parent who can't afford their care. These boys live in a place most of us wouldn't be comfortable in for an hour. They are always barefoot, they share clothes, have no toys, no common forms of entertainment that our children take for granted. And they don't complain, never once. Not even a moment. I never heard one boy express boredom. They are just living for, and in, every moment.

We bought the boys a soccer ball and they played non-stop

Every night we would walk to SEAMs for "our shift". I am ashamed to say it, but there were some nights I just didn't want to go. We had already worked all day, the walk to the children's home was hot, dirty and smelly. The home sits right next to a motorbike shop. All you hear is the motorbikes being driven up wooden inclines; it was deafening. Our legs and arms were buffets for the intense bugs. The boys only have a dirt lot to play in, so it was dusty, dirty and very depressing. 

I remember one of my teammates saying that if we don't want to go for a few hours, imagine what it is like for these boys who live there. It was true. This entire trip was about leaving my comfort zone, getting off my American pedestal of assumed privilege and helping. 

Sharing a comb 

No matter what, each day when we walked through those doors I was immediately filled with love. The boys, most 8-13, would run up to us, giving us big hugs and toothy grins. They didn't speak our language; that is what we were there to help with. It didn't matter, we spoke to each other in a language of kindness, compassion and respect. 

I think about these boys everyday. I think about them as I tell my daughter she doesn't need another toy from the toy store. I think about them as I remind myself last season's purse is still perfectly usable. I think about them as I sit in my air-conditioned office, looking out on a clean city, drinking clean water, bug free and with all the comforts I could ask for. 

Arun

These children weren't asked to be born into poverty. Many of them have a long history of living on the street, naked, begging for money. I don't know what will happen to them. I fear the future isn't bright. 

I think of Arun, who wanted nothing more than a crayon and coloring book; as he asked me on my final day at the home "You come back next year?". 

"I will try." 

They put powder on their face to look more "fair", common in India

My last day, grabbing some pics before I leave

Team 156

"No distance of place or lapse of time can lessen the friendship of those who are thoroughly persuaded of each other's worth." Robert Southey

When the initial shock of signing up for a volunteer trip across the world, by myself, to India, wore off, the dread of who I would be spending my two weeks with set in. You see, I am not the easiest person to get along with. I have a very strong personality and usually know within the first five minutes of meeting someone (or really two to three seconds) if I will like them or not. So the thought of sharing a house, bathroom, and working alongside in very stressful situations with random people from across the globe - well, that scared the hell out of me. 

Luckily, the universe looked out for me and our team; team 156 to Chennai, was everything I could have hoped for and truly everything I needed. Cindy, Elizabeth, Jodie and Jenna, along with myself, bonded immediately and were truly ride-or-die with each other. 

Cindy:
I hope to be half the mother you are to your children. Global Volunteers says out of all of its programs "India is not for the faint of heart", we all went to India because it was our dream - you went to fulfill the dream of your daughter as a graduation gift and my heart bursts as I process the love you demonstrated. Watching you and Elizabeth together was special and truly beautiful. Your bond is one I hope to share with my daughter. I will forever remember laughing in the rickshaw with you about our sweaty faces and teenage breakouts. Next time you are in Tucson, you better look me up.

Elizabeth:
Your beauty, poise and intelligence is second to none. Your heart is so big and I truly believe you have the ability to change the world. Colorado is lucky to have their next true leader as a resident, and I can't wait to see where your journey takes you. I will be along for the ride and support you through it all. You are amazing and the world is yours - go grab it. 

Jodie:
Thank you for walking me off the proverbial ledge pre-India. You were such an amazing support system and truly not a wack-ado. You are such an incredible mother, friend and sister. Thank you for listening to me, laughing with me and hugging me when I needed it the most. Your talent behind the lens captured the special moments of our trip, the smiles of the children, the chaos of the streets, the sweat on our faces and the joy in our eyes. Thank you for that gift, it is one I will cherish for a lifetime. There is no one I would have rather "chased the naan" with then you. You will truly be my friend for life.

Jenna:
There is little I can say that sums it up better than "I just adore you". Thank you for bringing levity when we needed it the most. For being a sounding board when I needed someone to listen and for bringing your incredible gifts as a teacher to the children of Chennai. You truly made a difference. You are so talented and I sit in awe of you. I pray our paths will continue to intertwine, as the universe broke the mold when they made you.

I have always felt called to go to India. I can't describe it, I am not religious, but something always pushed me there. During a long drive from Chennai to Pondicherry, it hit me. I was called to India, for this exact moment. To meet these amazing women, to learn from them, cry with them, laugh among them, and become friends with them - friends I pray will last across continents, and stand the test of time. If not, I will always look back on our time together as some of the most meaningful of my life. 

Team 156, we set out to change the world, and while we left with a small start of a ripple of change, we each have the power to turn that ripple into a mighty wave. I love you all, and thank you. 

Erin, Elizabeth, Cindy, Jodie and Jenna