Author: Erin

It’s a Trip, Not a Vacation: A Love Letter to Exhausted Moms

I talked to my bestie yesterday as she’s packing her family to go to Disney, and we were joking about the reality that is vacationing with children. “It’s not a vacation, it’s a trip!” But there is so much truth in that statement. Let’s be real—‘vacationing with kids’ is often code for ‘logistical marathon with pool breaks.’

For most moms, the lead-up to vacation is a stress spiral because we’re the ones doing the heavy lifting to get everyone out the door. It’s packing lists for ourselves and our kid(s), double-checking the clothes, medicine, chargers for every device, and confirming all the travel details: flights, hotel, car rental, you name it. Held mail, pet boarding, and every last detail you don’t want to forget but probably invariably will. I know I’m not the only mom who is tired before they even hit the door to leave.

My friend said her kid asked if she was excited about their upcoming trip, and she had to summon the energy to say, “Yeah buddy!” Narrator: She was, in fact, not excited. She had just finished mowing the lawn, and was helping the kids pack. She wanted a nap more than anything in the world.

Things don’t “settle down” during the vacation either. Trying to manage your kids (and yourself!) while completely out of the regular routine, and without any of the usual supports you’d have at your own home, can be quite challenging. Bed times go out the window, no one has seen a vegetable in days, unless you count ketchup. And they are begging to do the thing AGAIN. Add in being the keeper of the itinerary and every other thing no one else is thinking about and it’s no wonder you’re exhausted.

Am I glad we are making family memories? Yes, absolutely. I’m not knocking that time together at all. But I am giving recognition to the moms out there, to say “I see you!” because I know every single detail that goes into making sure those memories go off without a hitch.

F*ck Cancer: Dog Edition

I’ve been avoiding writing about this for awhile now, and figured it was time to finally download my feelings. My dog Chuckles had surgery in late March to remove a mass on his right hind leg. The pathology came back that it was cancer. And not just any cancer, it was the rare and aggressive kind. Chuckles has a mast cell tumor, grade 3, which has almost an 80% reoccurrence rate and an 11% one year survival rate. Plus with the location of where it was on his body, they had to be careful with how much skin they took, and as a result the margins of the tumor weren’t clear. He still has cancer cells present in his body. I did, however, receive an oncology referral from the vet, and wanted to do my due diligence to investigate what my options were.

So earlier this month, I took Chuckles in to talk to a vet oncologist. And the reality of his situation hit home for me with full force. Treatment for chemotherapy and/or radiation starts around $5k and goes beyond $10k. And from the discussion with the vet oncologist, the treatment would only be to prolong his life. The best estimates were that treatment would buy a few months to potentially up to a year…if it even works at all. The vet stressed there wasn’t a guarantee.

I sobbed almost the entire drive home, talking to to my bestie, and confessed to her how I felt guilty, as if I was just letting him die by not pursuing treatment. I know intellectually that isn’t true but emotionally that’s how it feels to me. I’m letting my dog, my best friend, one of the only men I really love and cherish, die. Normally when I cry, he runs away and hides upstairs. But that day, when I came home from the vet, I reviewed the paperwork again, and as I sat and silently cried by myself, he stayed. He just sat there, laying on the living room floor, looking up at me lovingly. His solid presence, even when the bad news was about him, was comforting and heart wrenching all in the same breath.

I’ve had Chuckles for just over 10 years. We adopted him before I even knew I was pregnant with with my kiddo, but he was always my dog, bonded exclusively to me. Sure he loves and adores my daughter, but when I leave a room, he’s hot on my heels. Always by my side. My constant companion. The prognosis for him with strictly palliative treatment is from 2-6 months. I have been putting off calling the vet, to start the process of palliative care, because literally and figuratively that feels like another nail in his coffin. I’m not ready to lose him. The thought of being completely alone after he’s gone, makes my heart constrict with grief. I know in my soul I am going to make it through this, as I’ve made it through losing my father, but there is a thick layer of sadness that weighs heavy on my heart. And on top of my own feelings, I have to contend with making sure my daughter is appropriately processing her grief as well. I’m not a young 20-something like I was when I lost my dad to cancer; I’m now a mother, who is raising a very deep feeling, empathetic, kind kiddo who is going to take the death of her first dog really hard.

I have arranged for a special photoshoot next month, and am confident we will make some good memories and have wonderful photos to cherish once he crosses over the rainbow bridge. And I’m so eternally grateful for all the time I have had with him. He’s been there with me through becoming a mother, changing jobs, being my emotional support dog through my divorce, and witnessing the joy and happiness that has come from my new chapter. I love you so much bubba, and I am so thankful I got the opportunity to love and take care of you. I’ll do my best to make sure you receive the very best love and care from now until the end. You have my word.

Longing for Connection

I feel very lonely these days and am longing for some kind of connection. Monday I was supposed to meet someone from a dating app for lunch and he bailed on me without much of an explanation. At least I was not ghosted, and am thankful for that. While I’m trying not to personalize it, I do keep thinking to myself, “when is it gonna be my turn?” I long to be held, touched, caressed, kissed, loved. I want to feel desired by another human being. I want to be genuinely loved by another human being. Yesterday I was on different dating apps looking (ahem…forcing) some kind of connection. I worry I will never really be deeply loved in this lifetime. My soul really aches to feel a deep love. I am struggling to get out of this woe is me attitude in regards to love and connection.

I realized yesterday in some of the conversations I need to be more honest about what I’m looking for and what I want. While I do want passionate sex and exploration, I want that with a committed partnership or relationship. There is absolutely nothing casual about me. I’m looking for a partner that is strong enough to hold me, take care of me financially, emotionally, physically and spiritually (not that they have to…but someone who wants to), someone willing to do deep healing work together. Someone I know without question I can trust and rely on…who will be there for me no matter what. Someone I can laugh with. Someone unafraid of partnership and vulnerability. Someone who will hold and comfort me as I cry. Someone who wants to be my roller coaster buddy on this wild ride called life.

Despite feeling lonely these days, I remain stupidly hopeful. It’s a characteristic I both love and sometimes despise about myself.

Feeling Overwhelmed

As I type this out, I have six stitches in my arm from an excision surgery last week. Not only did I have a uterine biopsy in October, I also had a skin biopsy that resulted in this surgery. So for those of you who don’t want to do the math: I’ve had 3 biopsies now in roughly 6 weeks. The surgery was a few days ago and while it appears to be healing fine, I wish I could say the same for my mental health. Yet again waiting on pathology report to help me know whether any further action is needed. If you have never had to play the waiting game of “is it cancer or not?” lemme tell you, it is a fun one <insert heavy sarcasm>.

I have been on a mission to get up-to-date on home inspection and repair stuff since this home is now approaching 22 years old. And the wasband (i.e. ex-husband LOL) didn’t do any of this shit (I would have known because I managed our finances while married). I have had dryer vents cleaned, trees trimmed away from the house (no more critters in my attic please!), chimney inspected and cleaned, and this week was to have the HVAC units inspected. I had suspected the HVAC units were original to the house…and as it turns out, I was right. Since this house has 2 units (one in the attic and one in the basement), I am looking at roughly $15k-$20k to replace them. The technician told me they are safe for now, but it’s all basically a house of cards at this point, because the furnaces have basically passed their average lifespan. The good news? That total cost is both the furnaces AND the A/C units, so it’s doing it all at once. The bad news? I dunno about you, but I don’t know any elder Millennial or Xennial that has an extra $20k just laying around. I’ve spent this entire weekend agonizing about how to finance this amount of money. How I can work it into my budget. If I replace one unit at a time or just do the whole schebang at once. I think I have a plan devised, but am fraught with worry about making sure I pay this off and don’t get myself into a financial bind. I am so grateful to my bestie, who is a whiz with finance and budgeting, and am running my plan by her to make sure it is sound. If there are any holes in the plan, she will find them.

To add to that fun of financial worry, our Chief Human Resource Officer at my job sent out a memo about hiring for 2024 that seemed pretty bleak. More or less no new roles will be added in 2024 (that wasn’t already budgeted for) without his express approval. Every single role. Seems excessive right? There’s also talk the new CEO wants to look at cost cutting measures so he will look good to the board. So yay to uncertainty there. While I don’t think I may get laid off, I don’t know for sure, and come up with contingency plans because nothing would surprise me. Having been laid off from Corporate America previously I don’t put stock in anything anyone says about whether my job is safe or not.

And last, but certainly not least, I had been texting with someone for a few weeks off a dating app that seemed promising. We hadn’t met up for a date yet because we are both divorced with kids and it’s been hectic trying to find free time on already packed holiday schedules. I had this niggling feeling this week that I am still over-giving, being the one to initiate all too often as that has been my historical role in relationships. I am an anxious cutie (I like the term Therapy Jeff has coined!) and know I have the tendency to fill in communication gaps myself because it makes me uncomfortable and to get validation they do in fact still like me. Well, the last time we texted was on Thursday and I was the last person to send communication…and I haven’t heard from him since. Admittedly, I am a bit bummed, because I was genuinely looking forward to meeting him but I don’t want to be with someone where there isn’t a more equal exchange of effort. And looking back through text messages, I told him I skew anxious and that if there will be communication gaps, it’s helpful to me if he’s proactive in letting me know. I even told him consistency and effort are key things I look for. <insert sigh here> This has been probably the first time in my life where I am able to observe this and actually find the inconsistency unattractive, instead of me wanting to try harder to convince him why he should like me.

All of this has felt heavy on my shoulders this week, and although I have a good support system of friends and family, I still feel alone in dealing with all this. Plus I have been feeling lonely for awhile now. Going on year 3 of living separate, almost a year and a half of being divorced, plus being lonely for years in my marriage, I have had the thought of “when is it my turn?” I know that is a completely human reaction and I’m trying to have compassion and sympathy for myself in this moment. Beating myself up or trying to toughen up isn’t going to help…in fact, it’s only going to make me feel more like shit than I already do.

Here I sit in the overwhelm, acknowledging and holding space for these feelings as best I can. Ultimately I trust I will be able to figure this all out, because up until this point in my life, I’ve been able to successfully figure everything out. I trust that future me has got this and know the rain and storms I’m currently in cannot last forever. Things will eventually get better. I’m trusting in that thought today to keep me going.