I saw all of the windows open in my browser, and it was like watching an ice cream cone melt. The recipe for the chocolate babka I wanted to try. The pumpkin shaped hand-pies for a Halloween themed dinner.
My therapist’s appointment page.
Resources for single mothers.
A SNAP application.
Where do I even start?
My Search went from Cottage Bakery Tips, Best Places To Buy Cake Boxes, and Colorado LLC to Tips For Being A Single Mom, How To Co-parent, and Single Mom Groups Denver.
I’m existing in a grey area.
I do my best to busy my thoughts so that they don’t swallow me whole.
The time I’ll have to finish my book.
My cottage bakery I can still launch.
I can start exercising again and maybe my feet won’t hurt as bad.
Maybe I won’t be screaming in agony over a thrown out back at the ripe old age of 32.
I won’t have to compete with another person’s mental illness.
I won’t have to exhaust myself in the hopes my partner with be emotionally available to me if I take it all on.
I won’t have to wait.
My brain is a balloon.
Each anxiety-filled thought is a dull needle and I allow the thoughts to enter and stab at the balloon’s edges, letting myself explore the reality. After all, this IS reality. One that requires housing for both me and my children, stability, the already too-expensive formula. It’s the fact that we would have to pull Scarlett from her school, her haven, one day a week, because I am unable to get her there. The reality is that my children will have two homes, the irony is that they both belong to someone else.
And then the inevitable happens. One of those dull needles is just sharp enough to pierce to balloon, and all of those intrusive thoughts seep in. I do my best to seal the hole as quickly as possible before I’m hunched over, sucking in air through an imaginary straw.
All those thoughts morph into one mega thought and the bottom line is-
What. The. Fuck. Are. You. Doing.
And then some variation(s).
Who the fuck do you think you are.
Are you out of your fucking mind.
My personal favorite-
You’ve got to be fucking joking.
Who do I think I am?
I think I’m a person that met the father of her children when she was broken.
That tried to initiate a relationship when she was broken.
Finally started a relationship while she was broken.
Broke a little bit more.
And then started acknowledging the cracks and began the process of repair.
5 years, 3 therapist, medications, mediations, breaks.
But how do you repair something that was broken to began with?
I don’t have an answer for that because I don’t know.
What I do know is that I tried. And when I was tired of trying, I tried some more. I tried until I started morphing into something I didn’t recognize. Something that goes beyond Small Sacrifices as we do for the people we love, and instead, If I Sacrifice It All Will You See Me Now.
Will you be proud? Will you help me? Will I impress you? Will you try harder? Will you promise? Will you be honest? Can I count on you?
The devastation I feel is insurmountable.
Will I really have to go back to cutting hair? Something I left and swore I wouldn’t go back to because I would make IT? Is that where I’ve arrived and who I’ve become? Will my children be in daycare, something I worked so hard to avoid? Could I actually be homeless?
Will I be able to pull this off? Is my actual life just around this next corner if I just…
Today’s Google search included how do you know you are making the right decision if you are this sad. The reality that I know, is that you can grieve things that no longer serve you. The reality is that I am no stranger to devastation. I guess I just wish we didn’t have to become fast friends so quickly again.
Chocolate & Orange Scones
- 2.75c Flour
- 1 TBSP Baking Powder
- 1/3 C Sugar
- 3/4 TSP Salt
- 1/2 TSP Cinnamon
- 1/2 C Frozen Butter
- 2/3 C Buttermilk
- 1 Large Egg, Beaten
- 2 TSP Vanilla
- Zest from 2 Large Oranges
- 1.5 C Dark Chocolate Chunks or Chips
- Combine flour through cinnamon (Ingredients 1-5) in a big bowl. Stir well to combine.
- Dip your stick of frozen butter in some flour to coat, get your box grater, and using the biggest hole size, start grating your butter into the flour mixture. End up with a few random big chunks? That’s cool, squeeze them between your thumb and index fingers, making petals, drop it into the flour.
- Add orange zest. Gently (but quickly, you don’t want your butter to start melting) combine into the flour.
- In a separate, smaller bowl, whisk the egg.
- Stir the buttermilk and vanilla into the egg mixture.
- Make a well in the center of your flour mixture, add egg mixture & Stir JUST to combine.
Do not get hung up on having a perfect looking dough, okay?
Biscuit and scone dough isn’t perfect. There will be chunks, some spots that are a little more dry. It’s going to be okay.
- Pat, never roll. Ever.
- Laminate your dough about three times. (Click here for YouTube video on dough lamination)
- After the third letter fold, pat down into a 2 inch thick circle.
- Using a bench scraper, scrape your circle and whack it onto a parchment lined baking sheet. Using a sharp knife or bench scraper, cut your circle in half, careful not to crimp the dough or make any sawing motions.
- Round the edges of each circle two make two smaller circles.
- Cut each circle into wedges, anywhere from 4-6 pieces a piece. Keep them close together, but separate them about a half inch apart.
- Brush with a little milk.
- Sprinkle with coarse sugar, bonus point for sprinkling a little Maldon, too.
- Whack the scones in the freezer for about thirty minutes while your oven preheats DO NOT SKIP THIS PART.
- Depending on how many pieces you have (today I made 8 big scones, and they baked at 425 for 21 minutes, but I’m also at high altitude) start checking them at the 17 minute mark. They should have some nice color and pull apart easily, not revealing any “doughy” bits.
Hi Ava. I’m a NYT Cooking Community member. I was reading your blog today (and getting the recipe for the hand pies….) and when I read “how do you repair something that was broken to begin with”, I thought of the Japanese art of Kintsugi. Here’s a link to one article I found that sums it up pretty well. https://www.huffpost.com/entry/what-this-ancient-japanese-artform-can-teach-us-about_b_597eb2c1e4b06b305561d22e
I promise it’s not a spam link! Keeping you in my thoughts. I got divorced when my kids were 1.5 and 3 years old. Now they’re 25 and 27. And we’re all good. Wasn’t easy, by any means, but I’ve “been repaired” many times and I’m one tough, yet compassionate, gal.
Best to you!