it's been a hard week.
but then, not really.
and nothing is currently out of control,
or beyond my capacity.
but for the moment -
it is all very difficult.
and it's almost too hard to try to put into words -
but i will try.

you see, there's all these balls being juggled about -
and yes, i'm using the proverbial balls...
and they all need to be up the air and stay up there
and yes, i am managing to keep them up...
because ball juggling is my profession,
my divine calling.
i am a woman, a mother, a wife, a friend -
therefore, i juggle.

but what i am juggling has suddenly taken on so much weight.
and all these things in my life,
they mean so much to me - all of them, every last single one -
and i can't put them down,
nor do i want to.

and the zen i normally can find when it all becomes a bit much -
well, it's been eluding me lately.
there is no deep breath to help, no inner ohm to exhale
no balance to be had.
and with every breath in, the tears sting my eyes.
and all day, today, every last minute of every last hour -
i fought to not cry
and spent a good deal of my time crying.
and i'm not a cryer.
but i am trying to learn to feel what i am feeling when i feel it.
and i felt like crying.
so, i did.

and here is why i think i am doing so.

i received an email requesting a whole new set of notarized papers for the adoption.
papers that have already been notarized in the past -
and the past before that.
similar but different.
the redundancy is staggering at times, no matter how necessary.
and it made me cry.
and i cried my way through the entire process.

mostly because we are so alone.
most do not realize we are adopting, many do and say nothing.
we have to seek out support.
we have to force this onto those around us...
and barely get a response from those we need the most support and help from.

and this triggers me again and tears sting my eyes.
this feels like cancer when people spoke for us, spoke to us, and yet -
when we were so alone in that process with little to no help for so long.
and the hurt is fresh all over again.
i realize i have not forgiven.

and i know we are responsible.
we hate to ask for help.
and we demand next to nothing from those around us.
but doesn't it seem natural to want to extend care and concern?
isn't there a balance of the universe that allows for us to be considered?

and beyond my aching arms, the child we wait for, the sibling that is already loved...
there is so much more to juggle.

my mother came for a visit.
she extended the invitation and i agreed to meet her on neutral ground.
and i held my boundaries and was kind.
which was more that i ever planned on giving her again,
since she has done none of the work to re-enter my life and never will.
but i did it for my children and to normalize and abnormal situation.
and i was mistaken.
she barely looked at them, barely registered.
because they don't belong to her, anymore than i do.
she doesn't have the capacity.
and yet, when she left she said,
"so, now when i call, you'll pick up the phone!"
it wasn't a question.
and with a sad smile and an exhale i told her no.
"i will contact you."
when i feel i should.
i have no feelings as of yet on the subject.

or maybe i do.
she returned home and reiterated her stance,
that if i'm not all the way in, she wants nothing to do with me.
you see, she doesn't want me in her life.
she doesn't want the accountability of my presence, the reminder.
but she also doesn't want what my absence represents to her, those around her.
it's an ever present reminder of the reality of this poor-sick-dead-and-dying-woman -
that maybe, just maybe -
another woman existed before the cancer and the pink lapel pins and the bald head.
that under it all,
the narcissistic sociopath still exists,
and her legacy that she has created cannot be erased with a few rounds of chemo and radiation.
cancer doesn't make you a hero.
drinking and smoking your way to sickness doesn't make you a courageous survivor,
anymore than dna and blood make you a mother.
and i expect nothing from her.
i feel for her plight.
but she is well cared for.
she is surrounded by those she invested in, can feel love for.
but my and mine, we are not hers.
i never was.
we will never be.
we are just a nagging reminder of who she really is beneath it all -
broken, sad. sick and dying and though apparently surrounded -
alone.

and i expect no apologies, no remorse.
for i quote,
"why should i apologize for things i didn't do?"
her story has always changed.
but it has never completely disappeared.
interesting, disturbing, angering.

and beyond this,
there is the weighty responsibility of educating my children.
of speaking to their curiosity.
recognizing their needs, how they learn, molding their individuality.
and of course,
the ever present and copious need to make art and scatter it around our home.

and writing, always the writing.
the companies, the work.
years and years of work culminating and increasing,
reaching a critical mass...
and in the midst of it all, a new project
private, oh so private.
it is all for myself at the moment.

you see, there are all these things, all these balls to juggle -
and they can't be put down and i don't want to -
but each comes with so much responsibility, so much promise.

the promise of our family grown, a child in our arms, a baby once more.
the promise of a sibling, a friend.
the promise of peace and resolution in the midst of the unresolvable,
of holding onto boundaries that should never have to be erected.
the promise of passion of learning, of new worlds to explore every day...
the promise of a calling fulfilled, a lifetime of work to be validated and to grow further.

and i have yet to speak of the responsibilities that we all must juggle,
the church and state stuff...the sense of community we must participate in -
the people we must care for, think of and support.
there are so many layers to all of our lives...
so many balls to keep up in the air.
so much promise to fulfill.

i hope we can all help eachother do it,
to ease eachother from the burden of the solitary fight.
and forgive me for the burdens i may have overlooked,
the same as i forgive those around me.

so ignore this,
and ignore my tired rantings at the end of a day that unlike so many others -
those days where i find exhilaration in the struggle of figuring it all out -
i was unable to muster my way back towards optimism and happiness.

i was sad.
that's all there was too it.
sad and tired and weary.

but now it's time for bed,
for tomorrow is coming and i have to regain my footing once more.
find my normal sense of balance,
search out my zen,
smile my way through the low moments
and say those simple words that make nick's head explode,
"that's just life, sweetie. what else were you expecting? no one promised it would be easy."
but it's always worth it, though.
so very worth it.

good night.

ps: my sweet babysitters who are saving my patootie today and tomorrow - you know who you are and you have all my love and gratitude for your sacrifice. thanks.
ps: to my sis-in-law who let me cry on your shoulder, thanks to you as well.