Emuna, Motherhood

Who I Ran Into on the Worst Day Ever and Why I’m Done Adulting


I woke up sweating again.  Not from some scary nightmare, but from the stress of my own life, I guess.  Night sweats.  Hormones.  Thyroid.  Of all the symptoms, I have had over the past year, the night sweats scare me the most, because they are so clearly physically indicative of something off balance in my body.   A headache now and then I can brush off.  Weight gain, I can blame the pizza.  Hair loss, I can blame the sheital and hide it under it.  Gosh, I’m sounding like a sick case, and I AM NOT ONE.  But when I wake up sweating, I freak out.  Alarm bells.

Can I please ask that no one message me their cure for night sweats?  I’m done.  Hashem has to cure me of all this.  Not to sound too alternative or irresponsible, I’m trying some different things already, and confident that if I do them consistently, I will be okay. More options for healing just overwhelms me at this point and makes me sweat more.

This blog was not supposed to be about night sweats.  But I guess I needed to get that out of my system. (Like the sweat.)

The night sweats this morning started this day off scared.  Then I started getting scared about other stuff.  I’m waiting for a custody decision from a judge.  No matter what the papers say, there will be change.  Change scares me.  Can I cope with what is to come?  I look back at myself and I say, “Rina, you’re a superstar.  You’ve coped with every last thing that has been thrown down.  You’ve coped and you’ve overcome and you’re okay. What are you worried about?”  I don’t know, I’m just scared okay!?

I packed my kids lunches for the day and broke down crying.  I don’t cry a lot, I really don’t, but the night sweats and the judge’s impending doom (see, I’m not always positive?!) and my mom leaving and me feeling alone and school’s coming and tuition is coming… had me in some tears over my Dandelion Tea this morning.

I gave up to Hashem.  Again.  “You’ve got to help me.  These are your kids.  I’m trusting you (again).  You’ve got to do it.  I have to trust you.  I am so not in control here.  Please do what’s best for my kids.”  How can my brain know something so strongly yet there still be so much pain and fear and emotion in it?  I know whatever happens in that judge’s papers will be from Hashem.  It will be for my sons’ best and mine.  Even if I hate it.  Hopefully even if I love it.

By this time in my day, it’s only 8:20am, and I’ve already sweated and cried buckets.  I pick up my kids from their dad and get them dropped off to camp, except for one, who is staying home.  One of the campers is scared to go to camp because there’s a trip and that is different, and evidently he gets his dislike of change from his mama.  But I get him in the camp and wave out the window and get back to my car…

And it won’t start.  And it’s blocking someone’s driveway.  And I’m all alone in this world.  Like I am ALONE.  I feel so alone.  Even though my sweet son is sitting next to me, trying to help turn the ignition and fix it.  Is “crank” a Southern word, because I said to several people, “It won’t crank” and they had no clue what I was talking about.  I called the mechanic.  I called my mommy.  I knocked on a stranger’s door and apologized profusely for blocking his driveway.

In the middle of all this, I also called an attorney about another legal matter that I don’t want to deal with.  I am done adulting for the day; this day had way too much adulting.  I don’t get the answer I want from that guy, and I get a friend involved in it to try to help me, so now that’s on my mind for the rest of the day, and the judge still hasn’t told me anything, and now my son’s starving, and there’s no food in the world.

It is 10:15 in the morning.  After a bunch of rigamarole, I get the car to the mechanic and figure out what’s the problem and get it fixed and that’s one problem successfully adulted (I’m not sure if it counts since I called my mommy, but I’m counting it)…

I somehow manage to go to a workout class, to get back on the roll I was on before tishabav and divorce court and my mom’s visit.  I was on a workout roll, and today I got back on it!  Thank you Hashem! I am healthy and strong!

A few more errands, and somehow it’s time to pick up the kids again.  We are going straight to the skate park, because my oldest (age 7) has put up with car errands and adulting all day and it’s his turn to have fun.   Only I realize I’m completely dehydrated, and have not planned enough to have snacks and drinks packed for us.

A trip to 7-11 turns into a major chillul hashem, like tantrum from the darkest dark side of the dark side.  Not by me.  In case you were wondering.  By a child wearing a kippah.  I kept my self together.  I joked with the cashier, “I’m babysitting these guys today,” as one of them was literally writhing on the floor bursting open a bag of Lays so I would be forced to buy it for him.  I think this blog is ruining all my shidduch prospects in so many ways.  HA!

Anyway, I get out of 711 without calling 911 and to the skate park, and everyone’s skateboarding like they’re in heaven.  I’m sitting on a park bench like I haven’t put on makeup or taken a shower since my workout class and like my car broke down this morning and like the judge hasn’t answered and like I’m just done adulting for the day.  Zombie.  My littlest darling has to pee and poop, he comes running to me, holding himself, telling me, and EWE PORTA POTTIES.  But what choice do we have, and I’m weaving through skateboarder dudes, the only Jewish mommy in the place, the only mommy AT ALL in the place, with my 3-year-old skate champ, going to the porta potty… when who do I see skating toward us…

My ex husband.

When you see your ex husband, you want to look, I don’t know, tanned, and toned and put together, and energized… the revenge look.  You want him to see how awesome you’re doing without him.  You don’t want to be a Zombie wiping poop off someone’s tush.  The Zombie worked in my favor I think, though, because I was already so stunned from the day that I didn’t have any stunned left in me to be stunned that he was at our skatepark.  So I said some nice words and let the kids have their fun with their dad and mom together in the same 100 square-yards of airspace.

I wonder now in retrospect, now that the stunned has worn off, if The Rebbe is answering my prayer about co-parenting (yes, I know he doesn’t actually answer, it’s all from Hashem), or if my positive mantras about being best friends with my ex have changed the universe and given us the opportunity to take a step toward that.

I grew up in a divorced home.  Isn’t that an oxymoron?  A home divorced.  I grew up in two homes, back and forth, with two parents never together.   They came together for graduations and my wedding, but I guess those times didn’t count because it wasn’t like either of them had the option to skip out on the event.  (They loved me, of course they wouldn’t miss those events, even if the other parent was there.)  But once – just once – they came together for a meal, because I invited them to.  I was twenty-four years old, and it was the first time they had been together just for fun. They could have said no, but they both said yes.  I felt like a little kid put back together again for that meal.

If I can give anything to my kids during this divorce, even though I can’t give them a home with both their dad and mom living in it, I want to give them the chance to feel together sometimes.  Like they’re not split.  I want the two of us adults to do some painfully difficult adulting and put ourselves on purpose in the same airspace, so my kids can breathe clean air and feel what it feels to have both parents see the same skateboard trick at the same time.

Today the universe, or Hashem, or The Rebbe did it for us.

I hope after the judge lets the gavel drop, and the dust settles, we’ll be able to do it for ourselves.  For our children.

PS – you can actually buy these adulting stickers on Amazon… click pic for link.  I have to say, if you bought them, I would only deserve 2 out of 9 for today… will let you guess which 2.






2 thoughts on “Who I Ran Into on the Worst Day Ever and Why I’m Done Adulting”

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