I’ll think about it tomorrow

Today Caroline and I went to a Richmond Braves game.  It was my last Richmond Braves game ever.  Tomorrow is the final game the Richmond Braves will be the Richmond Braves.  After this season my beloved team is moving to some town in Georgia.

I can remember my first Braves game.  I went with my family, all six of us, when I was in middle school.  We sat in the silver general admission seats.  I wore my hair in two french braids and wore jeans.  Is it weird that’s what I remember?  In high school I went often.  Once I took my baby brother and his friend just so I had an excuse to go.  When Mr. Wrong and I were together we used to go to several games a season. 

I love baseball.  I love the game.  I love watching the game.  I love the atmosphere at baseball games.  I love the seventh inning stretch. 

Richmond also used to be home to the Yankees farm team but that was years ago.  My friend’s dad is a Yankees fan because his dad used to take him to those games as a kid.  This, in my opinion, is the only justifiable reason for being a Yankees fan as a southerner.

One might think that growing up a Richmond Braves fan I might be an Atlanta Braves fan.  No.  I acquired my love of the Red Sox early, given to me by my great uncle who would listen to the games on the Palace Rocks on a transistor radio.  Besides the big Braves were owned by Ted Turner, a man I do not like and that soured me on them for good.

But our little AAA team.  I love them.  I love the memories I made at the Diamond.  I love the game of baseball that was played there.  Tomorrow will be the end of an era.  But today they won the game 2-1.  So long Braves, thanks for the memories, I will cherish them.

Those of you who know me know that I am a play it safe kind of girl.  What being at the lake taught me was to relax and enjoy the moment.  Those days at the lake were amazing.

Now it’s back to real life.  I am working on those changes I promised myself.  I am.  And I’m having fun, enjoying life.  I have a rather full weekend planned, birthday party, dancing, VA Tech football, dinner w/ friends, more dancing – with Home Run Hitter (didn’t see that one coming did you?  me either), Richmond Braves baseball, Labor Day parade, pool party.  Oh and I really should finish unpacking!!

But I miss the lake.  And now I’m thinking about doing something crazy.  Completely out of character for me.  Even the idea of it is exciting and scary at the same time.  This would definately not be playing it safe.  (Don’t worry it wouldn’t cause me any physical harm.)

I’m not sure I have the nerve.  I want to have the nerve, I do.  Time will tell….  I’ll keep you posted…. Maybe….

I began my trip to the lake feeling lost.  No sense of purpose, very little sense of self, no sense of direction.  I spent the first week reflecting on my life, my problems, where I was going.  And what I learned was to stop and enjoy what was around me.  What I finally let sink in was to get outside of worrying about the future and enjoy the moment. 

I enjoyed watching the kids climb on canons at Fort Ticonderoga.  After roasting s’mores over a campfire I watched my cousin float a mini flaming funeral pile out onto Lake Champlain, then sat for an hour and watched as it floated before finally burning out.  I took the kids to the local fair and watched a demolitician derby amongst some of the most redneck people I have ever met.

Then eight New York City firefighters arrived at the Big House.  And I spent three nights drinking, laughing, flirting, dancing, just having fun.  It was like I was discovering how to live life again.

I was an amazing 10 days.  I realised I had been spending so much time worrying about the future I was forgetting to enjoy the moment.  I took the time to stop, look around, experience the moment instead of worrying about what came next.

I have spent so much time worrying about tomorrow or next week I had lost the big picture.  I had spent so much time just surviving — and granted when you go through the pain of a divorce this stage of your life is necessary.  But it really is time to get to the next stage.  It’s time to quit worrying about surviving and start planning my future.

My last night at the lake I sat in the Parlor of the Big House watching the fire and enjoying the company of my family.  When the night wound down I still wasn’t ready for bed so I walked down to the dock and lay there looking at the sky.  I was completely at peace with the world.  That’s what my 10 days at the lake did for me.

He is one of New York City’s Bravest.  (Thanks Mel.)  And he changed my life.

Tuesday night after the kids went to bed I went back up to the Big House to join the firemen for another night of enjoying life.  My cousin had arrived with his girlfriend and his parents were there too.  We had a great time with The Fireman controlling the iPod.  My cousin had him play Hello Again by Neil Diamond and cousin, fireman and one other guy stood arms around each other singing this song at the top of their lungs.  Then Fireman declared Take Me Home, Country Roads by John Denver to be the official song of the week.  The chorus to be sung this way…

It was perfect.  We sang it just that way several times during the night.  And I found myself locking eyes with Fireman often as the night progressed.  We just held each others eyes.  The attraction in his eyes was unmistakable.  Eventually the older guys went to bed and it was back to me and three of the young guys.  Two guys were arguing and paying no attention to me or Fireman and he asks I I’d like to go for a walk.  I did, so we do.  Along the way he makes it clear that he finds me very attractive and I do not play coy.  He is an Italian boy from Long Island, with dark hair and dark skin and blue eyes, together they make one heck of a package.

The night was amazing, our walk was amazing. 

It was not the beginning of anything, he is a New York City Fireman and I am southern country belle through and through.  He is a Yankee fan, I am a Red Sox fan.  It will never be anything more than those few days together.  The time I spent talking to, dancing with, laughing at and walking beside New York’s Bravest.  But what those few days have done for me are life changing.

Now perhaps you think I am giving too much credit to a guy I will never see again.  It’s not really about him, it’s about the me I was with him.  With no expectations for a future together I felt free to dance with abandon, flirt shamelessly and just let go of my inhabitions.  Ten years in an unhealthy marriage left my self esteem in taters, three days with New York’s Bravest turned that around.

Does this usually refer to the policemen?  Sorry, what do they call the firefighters?  Because there are eight of the finest guys I have ever seen staying in one of the homes on the property.  And four of them are over 50.  I’m quite sure one of the older ones was flirting with me last night. 

There is a saying hanging on the wall in the Eagle’s Nest.  “He who hoots with the owls at night cannot soar with the eagles at dawn.”  My grandfather was a fisherman, so that was meaningful to him.  Each morning he would rise early, take his boat out and enjoying the early morning quiet.

It is now early morning.  I slipped out of the house while the kids were still sleeping.  Turns out I can drink with the firefighters at night and still rise early.  It was fun last night just to sit and listen to the guys talk.  They have an ease around each other, they know the other’s quirks, read the other’s signals.  I got ragged on for being a Red Sox fan.  And after awhile I hardly noticed the thick New York City accents.  There was a pretty bad storm and we sat on the porch watching the lightening flash over the lake.

They played music and we danced in the parlor of the Big House.  We danced and drank and laughed.  You should have heard the music, Frank Sinatra, John Denver, Neil Diamond and more popular stuff too.  There was one song about getting in a New York Mood – if this sounds familiar to anyone please let me know I would love to find the song.  We danced and drank and laughed some more.

Finally as the night wound down we sat again on the porch.  Looking out at the lake I couldn’t have asked for a better night or reminder just how fun life can be.

Getting away has been so good for me.  The perspective you gain when you are locked away from the world is priceless.  I bought a newspaper yesterday and it was the first news I had seen in a week.  I haven’t seen a television since I left home, I have even resisted reading Drudge when I log on.  Although I have been checking e-mail and voicemail, so I haven’t completely unplugged.

Believe it or not this week has presented several opportunities to flirt.  I took advantage and may I just say I was back on my pre-marriage game.  The great thing about flirting with guys up here?  In a week I’ll be gone, so the furthest I think about is whether or not I will see them at the County Fair today.  Man, it is fun being single.

One of the hardest things about going from married to single is the change of your frame of mind.  Lately everytime I start talking to a guy I start thinking about forever.  Recently I went out with a guy and promptly told my friends “we have no future, no need to go out again.”  Their response?  “Did you have fun?  Just keep having fun.  Don’t keep looking so far ahead.”  It’s hard.

I had a good talk with my cousin Hockey yesterday.  He said basically the same thing.  So what if I’m 31, enjoy the single life and all that it offers.  (At least every other weekend!)  I think it’s time to start listening.  I need to quit looking at every guy and judging their future potential and just enjoy the moment.

Last night before I went to bed I looked out of my window to a full moon, it was beautiful, reflecting on the water.  Recently a friend reminded me to quit worrying all the time and look up.  What we saw in the August sky then was beautiful.  What I see tonight is majestic. 

I would take a picture but it could never come close to capturing the beauty I see.  In front of me the moon is reflecting on the lake.  The reflection stretches all the way to the water that is lapping at my toes.  Off to the left I can make out the shoreline stretching all the way to Rose Point.  There is a small light at the top of a mast letting me know there is a sailboat anchored in our Bay.  Across the lake, the Green Mountains rise over the shore of Vermont.  Off to my right the shore is shrouded in darkness until Whale Nose drops into the lake.  I can hear the creek flooded with rain water rushing down to Lake Champlain.

As a single mom with four kids, time to stop and notice my surroundings is often hard to find.  Tonight is the exception.  The kids are in bed.  And I can sit on the rocks.  Looking up.  Marveling in the beauty before me.  Reminding me how small my troubles really are in the grand scheme of things.  And that I can really use right now.

I feel like I have been screwing up a lot lately in my newfound single mom journey.  Sometimes I get so frustrated with the little things I forget about the big things.  The truth is I have four great kids and everything we need.  So what if the house isn’t perfect, my van is old and there are times during the night I reach for someone who isn’t there.  The moon is full, the water is cool and life is good.

I am back at the lake.  This time with my kids, a friend and her son.  On the way up yesterday I got a call from my grandmother that there had been some extensive damage done to the Avenue (the driveway to the family lake property) by some pretty severe rain they had recently.  My cousin had worked on it so we were able to get relatively close to the Eagle’s Nest where we are staying.  But we eventually stopped and carried our stuff the rest of the way in.

The road was out.  Things had gotten bumpy.  For me it was a great picture of my life last week.  Being single is such a new experience for me.  When I was married the path seemed clear but the divorce, like the rain, washed out the road.  I am having to choose a new path, a new road.  There are so many rough places along the way.  And the things is these days my decisions don’t just effect me, there are the kids to think about.

Mr. Wrong hadn’t been around for three weeks, so I dropped off the kids on Thursday for a long weekend.  From then until Sunday I didn’t stop.  I went out to dinner with a friend from high school, went out dancing with friends, went to the movies and dinner with another friend, then met other friends for another night of dancing.  I didn’t get to bed before 3 Thursday, Friday or Saturday.  And by Sunday I was so tired it was the first time I haven’t been ready for the kids to come home. 

Is this the road I want to take?  Spending my time without the kids acting like a teenager?  Going out every night until all hours?  Or am I over thinking this?  It’s not like I was picking up guys.  I was just out having fun with my friends.  Should I feel this bad about going out three nights in a row?  Where does the guilt come from?  Because I’m doing something I think I shouldn’t or am I actually doing something I shouldn’t?

Sometimes I say to myself.  “You are a mother of four, what are you doing out here on the dance floor?  You should be home, folding laundry, going to bed by 10.”  But the reality is I am a single mother.  When Mr. Wrong has the kids I finally have the opportunity to have some “me time.”  Maybe I’m just tired and overthinking this.

Oh well.  I have two weeks at the lake to think about it.  This is a picture of my nightstand after I emptied my pockets.  Set down my cell phone, IPod, camera (okay that’s just the case obviously I was using the camera).  It just reminds me what a wired society we are.  I wish I could tell you I’m unplugging on vacation, maybe I will for a few days.

That’s right it’s county fair time.  Saturday night when I have the kids is family night and tonight I took all four kids to the fair, by myself.  We had a great time.

This is my fearless Lee on her favorite ride.  You know the one where they pull you up the tower and then you dead drop.  She finally convinced Chandler to ride with her later in the evening.

We had a great time.  Chandler won at the shooting game, you know where you aim the stream of water.  He got to choose one of the bigger prizes, he was so proud of himself.  We stayed until 10, which is really late for my kids.  They deserve it.

As I walked around holding Caroline’s hand as the kids ran from ride to ride I smiled.  I’m really getting the hang of this single mom thing.  I chatted with other mothers waiting for their children.  I ran into a bunch of people I knew and chatted with them (I live in a small town).  At one point the 3 older kids were on 3 different rides and still I managed not to lose a single one of them.

It used to be that things like this would make me miserable missing Mr. Wrong, wishing he was there to share the experience with us.  Wishing I had someone to help me keep track of the kids and someone to hold hands with and stand beside me and wave to the kids as they passed by on the ride.  I’m learning to enjoy the moment for what it is, not long for something it isn’t.  At the end of the night as we were piling in the car Chandler says “this was a lot of fun Mom.”  Yes, it was Chandler, yes, it was.