Madness

I don't consider my self a hypochondriac. In fact I tend to lean away from drugs (even aspirin) preferring to let nature take it's course. I have never bee diagnosed with anything that has been reduced to a catchy acronym. Because, well, crazy isn't an abbreviation for anything... unless:

Compulsive
Reactive
Anxious
Zealous
Yonkers

There is a methadone to my madness...

It must be an oxycontin?

But today, I am feeling like I need some good drugs. And I can't quite together anything that is wrong with me, really. I am starting to wonder if maybe there might not be something to this drug thing. Like maybe I could control myself a little better if I were medicated. The trick to an 'O Happy Day.... could it be a Happy Pill? The problem is I am TERRIBLE at remembering to take drugs regularly. So, I can do good for awhile and then I forget. I'm pretty sure the swing of an on and again off again drug habit might be worse, than say my normal witchy self. Dare I ask the Alaskan what he thinks?

Nah... I prefer to keep him on his toes. He never knows what he's gonna get, and I kind of like it that way (part of the crazy tendencies). Bwaa Ha Ha.

Thank U

To explain where I've been in the last 6 months, to describe how I got here..... well, I'm not sure I really can. I had to fall down really hard. Bruised and broken. Staring out into nothing wondering if I would ever shake this empty feeling in my gut. That feeling that tells you, this time you really fucked up. And I had. I hated myself. I hated where I was. I was so utterly lost. Was I being hard on myself? yes....and no. The truth is, I made some pretty bad decisions. And as my cursor blinks at the end of that last sentences, all I can think is: what an understatement.

For all of the bad decisions, that to this day I can still replay in my mind wondering what would have happened at each turn had a did or said something different, I did make one good decision: In the end, I trusted the right person. Probably for the first time ever in my relationship with the Alaskan, I trusted that he would be able to handle this.

It was a HUGE gamble to admit my mistakes to him. For in this, I wasn't the only one who had made mistakes. He had his own burden to bear as well. But the only way for to get to it, was to go through it. I had to quit blaming him for everything. And even more, I had to let go of the notion that I could control his response.

I think I have always feared that if I let him in, if I trusted him completely, he would just leave. I never trusted that we had anything that would cause him to stay. Eventually, he would tire of me and he would go. And the truth is, when he really did leave, I somehow felt better, as if I could quit anticipating his departure. So for some reason in a moment of reckless abandon, a little tiny speck of bravery (maybe stupidity) allowed me to be vulnerable and bear my soul. To trust him with more of me than I had ever allowed him to see. In opening myself, I had to accept that he may still leave, but to allow him to know me and still decide to stay. I had to accept that he might hate me forever, but it was possible that he might love me more than I ever gave him credit for. And most important, I had to accept that I, ultimately, was not in control of that decision. And that, my friends, was the fork in the road, the choice I made, that has led me here today.

It's hard to describe all that has transpired. I wish I could say he took me in his arms, forgave me and all is well. But the truth is life is never quite that easy. Many times, I wondered if I had made the right decision, many times more I believed if I could do it over, I would have done it differently. The path wasn't always smooth and clear. But I know I did the right thing. I know that not only for my relationship, but for me. To be able to trust that not everyone leaves when things are hard, is an invaluable lesson I could never have learned alone.

So I am completely OK? No. I still have some bruises, that I wonder if they will ever completely go away. Am I still afraid? Yeah, sometimes I feel like I can't breathe. And then there is a moment when completely out of nowhere I catch an amazing glimpse of what it is that is so magical about relationships. In a moment of pure rambling, he says, "I was asking some of the guys at work about horses, and what the difference is between a mare and a gelding.... they said when we get a horse....." Dumbfounded, I say "You really do want to give me what I want." To which he replied, "Yeah, I do. And I will."

To completely understand this, you would have to know him and you would have to know me and our dynamics. Suffice to say, in the past I have always been the one to pay attention, and I'm the one who talks of the future. I'm the giver.

So lest I believe he never listens, or is not concerned about my dreams, but only with his own, or that he probably won't stay with me, he said I should know:

He Does, He Is and He Will.

"Thank U"

how bout getting off these antibiotics
how bout stopping eating when I'm full up
how bout them transparent dangling carrots
how bout that ever elusive kudo

thank you india
thank you terror
thank you disillusionment
thank you frailty
thank you consequence
thank you thank you silence

how bout me not blaming you for everything
how bout me enjoying the moment for once
how bout how good it feels to finally forgive you
how bout grieving it all one at a time

the moment I let go of it was the moment
I got more than I could handle
the moment I jumped off of it
was the moment I touched down

how bout no longer being masochistic
how bout remembering your divinity
how bout unabashedly bawling your eyes out
how bout not equating death with stopping

thank you india
thank you providence
thank you disillusionment
thank you nothingness
thank you clarity
thank you thank you silence

Thank U by Alanis Morissette

A Hemi

This post not for the faint of heart! If you get queezy, or don't like potty humor, skip it!

The joys of being a woman..... I learned very quickly in my first pregnancy that my modesty and humility were out the window. My body just took on a life (yeah no pun intended, ha ha) all its own.

I'll never forget the time I threw up in a restaurant's bathroom. Not sure what brought it on, I was feeling fine (and hungry) when we walked in. We placed our order, and while we were waiting for our food, I got that funny sensation. I got up to make my way to the bathroom, my steps quickening as the feeling worsened. I no sooner entered the bathroom (single stall, THANK GOD!) when (literally) all hell broke loose from my body. The door was barely shut and it was on! It was the scene from Exorcist. I tried to make it to the toilet, but no luck there. (Yeah, I know ew!) And it kept coming and coming, before I knew it, the floors, sink and toilet were covered. I stood back, fearing to leave, for what would I say to the server? It was a fairly small joint, so I couldn't just escape without being noticed..... uggg. Yeah embarrassed doesn't even cover it!

When I gave birth the first time I had an the unfortunate experience of an aunt who had to tell me that enemas were standard procedure in all births. WHAT?!? I freaked about that for MANY weeks leading up to birth. Don't know why I didn't just ask my OBGYN, but being young and scared made me a bit naive. Even though that never happened in my case, I did end up having to suffer through a catheter and many other procedures during birth that were new and less than fun.

But that doesn't even begin to compare to the experiences after birth. I had a nurse "man handle" my breasts during a lesson in breast feeding. (Uh back the fug up!) I had an infection in a milk duct that made my breast swell to the size of a cantaloupe and be tender even to a shower, which then in turn had to be examined and "felt-up" by another doctor. And then there were the bladder infections, constipation, etc. Yeah, I know, it's impolite to discuss such things on the internet. But most Moms would agree it is just the reality. That and much, much more.

So you must know there is a good reason for all this disclosure. Yeah and it's a good one, or at least I think so. So.... here goes: I was having a conversation with a friend (name withheld to protect the innocent) who was telling me about her man and his, ahem, new affliction. Yeah, we'll dispense with the "men are tougher than women" right here and now. Because for all their gruff, deep down most can be kind of wussies about being sick or having anything out of the normal wrong with them. We've all thought and some have even said it: If they had to squeeze a watermelon out of their privates, they would have a whole different perspective on not only pain and tolerance, but humility about the embarrassing things that happen to our bodies.

So back to my friend's man, who has developed a new little affliction in his nether region, and it has struck him pretty hard. A combination of embarrassment, and the humble reality that we all age, and our bodies change, sometimes in the most mortifying way, has had him whining about this quite a bit. Oh, yeah and it's uncomfortable and a little painful. But mostly it is the former not the latter. She was sympathetic, because having had children, she could relate. She explained how to relieve most of the pain, WITHOUT him having to go to the doctor to have this bumm exposed. Yeah, is he not lucky to have her or what? But her sympathy only went so far, and she couldn't help but rib him a little during a txt interaction:

Him: No more beans 4 lunch!
Her: Why, the guys giving U a hard time?
Him: No my butt is sore!
Her: Aw, don't worry at least U can tell the guys U have a new HEMI, just not in UR truck, on UR ass!
Long pause.....
Him: NOT FUNNY!

The feck if it ain't! Yeah, I think it's hilarious! In fact I'm sure if he heard this little interaction about someone else, he'd be laughing his ass off (again, no pun intended). I know I am. And if he KNEW she told me this AND if he knew I posted this to my blog..... yeah, again: NOT FUNNY!

But I couldn't help it! I had to share.

You can have it all, but you can't have it all at once.

I get little glimmers where everything seems to fall into place. It doesn't all get done, but everything that needs to be done, seems do-able. It's not absolutely perfect, but it is perfectly in place, where it needs to be. Where it is just second nature to not sweat the small stuff.

Binya-Binya

Happy Birthday to you.

Today you are 12. Hard for me to fathom that a dozen years have come and gone. Surely they have slipped right through my fingers like fine sand. Each moment has becoming one more in a string of moments speeding by, before I had the inclination to pay attention. I wish..... that I had paid closer attention to these tangible examples of an intangible concept. That I could go back, remember each and every moment where you have made me smile and brought joy to my heart. That I could somehow list them and describe each one of them to you. For they are many, and unfortunately, my memory is just not that good. But what comes to mind today is the very first moment you brought this joy: the moment I first held you.

You were the gift I didn't even know I wanted until I had you. Your Dad and I were very young, still trying to figure out what we wanted in this life and not even quite sure who we were. I'll never forget the day we found out that we two would become three. The nurse had that look when she came back into the room, and even though I had tried to convince myself that these symptoms were merely the flu, I just knew right then: it was real. Ready or not you were coming. She talked on and on about what, I am not sure, because I could no longer hear what she was saying. I was lost in a daze in my own head asking myself: What now? How will I? What if? It isn't exactly what we hope to write down in that special place in the baby book where it asks "How did you first find out about your pregnancy?" So many emotions were swimming around in my head, but mostly I was afraid.

Of course, I had nine whole months to get used to the idea that I was going to have a baby and be a Mom. I tried to plan, to prepare myself: I read books, took classes, and of course I thought about it all the time. But as with anything one has never done before, it is never quite how you think it is going to be. I labored hard with you. 23 hours in fact. I can remember how much it hurt, and how I wished the contractions would be fewer and shorter, but also knowing it was a necessary pain, I just wanted to get through it because I knew it would culminate in your arrival. I passed the hours, the time between contractions, thinking of what it would be like to finally have you here, to hold you, and talk to you. I visualized what you would look like: How big you would be, your nose, your mouth, your 10 little fingers and 10 little toes. I even worried you would have a head full of thick, dark, curly hair just like your Dad. (Actually, in my mind, it looked more like Elvis) These minor worries kept the nurses amused and my mind off the pain for a little while. When they finally said I could push, I was glad it wouldn't be much longer before I would see you. And with every push I prayed that it would be my last, and this would be done. Again and again, bearing down, I believed through sheer force I would bring you into this world. But after laboring for so long, the doctors became concerned because I was not progressing. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't seem to push you out. They gave me my options: I could try a little longer or I could have a C-Section. As if somehow I was in control of this process. "Whatever we need to do." I said, "Just get her here." Nothing I did was working, because the truth is, I was so not in control. But I was afraid.

A lot of the complications I read/learned about were now happening. No one could take this from me, no one could do this for me. I had no choice. I just kept telling myself, whatever I need to do to have you in my arms, I would do. I never knew I would have to be this brave. They prepped me and moved me into another room for surgery. It went relatively quick because what I didn't fully comprehend was, you were struggling and they were worried. I didn't let myself think about the surgery, so when they draped me, I looked away and closed my eyes, hoping this part would go quick. Up until this point I had never had surgery, never been under anesthesia, never been cut into. And I was afraid.

You didn't cry right away when they pulled your little, wrinkled, curled body from me. The longest few minutes were waiting for the doctor to finish suctioning your lungs. The previous 23 hours were a blink of an eye compared to this. And then finally you cried. That sound... I couldn't even comprehend before that moment how my heart would feel hearing your tiny, yet intense noise fill the room. And then I cried. Oh how I longed for you in that moment. When they placed you on my chest - wrapped in a blanket with a small knit cap over your misshapen head (you seriously could have won a part in the Coneheads movie), your arms and legs tightly drawn to your chest, I gently pulled your hat off (whew, no hair) and kissed your head. In that moment I was forever changed. My heart was unable to contain this feeling, tears streaming down my face. You were real. You were here. And what I could never have imagined before now was just how beautiful you would be to me. I was yours and you were mine. How will I ever be everything I need to be for you? Again, I was afraid.

How could I know what this would feel like? How can I tell you now what this felt like then? To all at once be so utterly amazed and terrified. Never before and never again would it feel just like this. Overwhelming and incredible. See, you were the first for everything. I had no idea what to expect. Up until that moment, I didn't understand that what you get in life is rarely what you envision:

actually, it is so much more.

I truly understood the power of an unknown future. You, nestled there on my chest making little baby noises, surely mesmerized by the beating of my heart which you had grown accustomed to inside of me, were the most amazing thing I could never have planned for. You were so delicate, everything so soft and tiny. My mind could never have dreamed you up, let alone, this perfection. And this feeling in my chest. I was unprepared for this joy. And I'm glad I didn't know what it would be like, because for the first time, in that moment I learned no matter what my hopes and fears were, that I couldn't possibly imagine or plan for all that lay before me on this journey. And I have come to understand that the unknown is so much better than what we foresee.

Through the years of being your mother I have had many more moments like this. Where I have come to understand things that I never understood before. Where you have brought me pride and joy through just being your Mother. Because just like I couldn't predict then what it would be like to be a Mother, I certainly couldn't have predicted how you would grow into what you have become. How I am still amazed that the tiny little baby wrapped in that blanket asleep on my chest now stands almost as tall as me. How did it all happen so fast? I wish I could put some memories of you in a bottle and keep them there, forever. Taking them out, on occasion, reliving each of the moments again and again. So that when I am afraid, like I am today that soon you will be grown and no longer my little girl, I can remember all that you have given me, all that you have taught me, all the joy that I could never have conceived, just by you being born to me as my first and only daughter.
I love you Binya-Binya. My wish for you is that you come to understand the possibilities of the future and all that lay before you. Don't be too afraid of the things to come. Don't try too hard to have everything planned and figured out. Because even when you believe you are in control, you aren't, so relax and let go a little. Believe that life will be infinitely better than even you can imagine. And I hope that you can enjoy the moments for what they are: gifts you didn't know you wanted until you had them.

Love, Your Mom

The Fairytale

Have you ever thought your life should end up like a movie? Say Pretty Woman? Well, maybe not Pretty Woman, because how many of us dream of being hookers falling for a rich john (not sure why that happens to be my twisted fairytale, but it seems fitting). OK, substitute some other, more appropriate, hopelessly romantic story where "Prince Charming" swoops in, they fall madly in love with each other, he sweeps her (who is almost always less than perfect in circumstance, but perfect in demeanor) off her feet in the most incredibly romantic way, and saves her from her poor, pathetic life?

So maybe we don't buy this in exactly the same way we did when we were seven, because well, how sad would it be to believe we are not whole or complete alone and that we must be saved by some swooning man in order to be happy? I digress... But do you think deep down some people maintain a belief in fairy tale true love long into adulthood? Do we hope for the perfect courtship and happily ever after? Is this illusion stored in the back of our minds, in our subconscious where we keep all the ideals of our lives, tucked away safely like mementos in a hope chest?

I think I have always believed in this fantasy to some extent. Not completely, but enough that this impractical expectation has colored how successful I believe a relationship is. I can't quite bring myself to part with this, even though over time and circumstance, I've long outgrown such silly ideas. If it isn't "just how it should be", then maybe it isn't the "Fairy Tale", and maybe it isn't meant to be.

The reality is, we end up in relationships where we don't live happily ever after. We work everyday, the effort being harder and more frustrating than digging a hole on the shore while the waves come to undo what we have done again and again. We struggle, we try different solutions, we compromise, we settle and we make deals we thought we'd never make. In attempts to find intimacy we try to work through misunderstandings and being better understood. We try, and we try again, even when we don't find what we are looking for. We seek to comprehend things that are beyond our perception. We give and give and give some more, and what we get in return isn't quit what we hoped for. Sometimes, we even let go of the things we cherish the most in hopes that we will find something better on the other side, only to be disappointed and resentful when we don't get what we need. And sometimes we fail, ultimately just wanting to quit and walk away.

It's not to say that it is all bad, these relationships. Lots of time it is so right and perfect in the moment you can't help but stop and laugh at the little guy on your shoulder who tells you that it shouldn't be this hard and you are making a HUGE mistake to keep trying. Sometime you have that precious feeling of "he gets me". You have that moment of simpatico. Often it is a look, a touch, and things are just good. The arms around you feel so right, the sustenance they provide is comforting right down to your bones. At these times, I just close my eyes and smile. Breathe. Take in the moment. Enjoy. Because unlike the fairy tales, it doesn't end here. Everyone doesn't live happily ever after. Life goes on with more struggles, and more moments of bliss. We just hope that overall the bliss outweighs the struggles.

But is the ideal: Once we conquer the struggle, we should live in eternal bliss, while ever elusive, keeping us from being content and satisfied? That: Prince Charming should be perfect in every way and complete us so entirely, making us wonder if there is someone more fulfilling out there for us? Do we put way too much emphasis on the "fairy tale" romance, therefore never letting ourself believe that things are gratifying, let alone good enough? Do we question a relationship's value by questioning "Should it really be this hard?"

The truth is, as nice as our fantasies can be, nothing of value comes easy. The struggle between good and evil can be equated to the fact that we find greater worth in that which we must fight for. Though it is never perfect, the progress we make helps us to be more satisfied together. There is no dragon to slay (unless you count his stubborn ways), there is no witch to trick (unless you consider my less than nice demeanor) and no one was locked in the attic waiting to be rescued (unless you reflect on the ways we help each other save ourselves time and again). We don't get the fairy tale ending kiss and the happily forever after fading into the sunset. Instead, each day we get to wake up next to each other, and for good and bad, we have been given the promise of one more day together. Because the only part of happy ever I find that works is: the after. That after all is said and done, we continue to come back to each other. Again, hoping to have happiness even after all.

Home and Hearth

Sometimes when I have nothing going on up there in this mind of mine, I imagine what it would be like to win the lottery. First of all the irony here is that in order to win, I must play, which I don't. So what are the chances? Yeah: zero, zip, zilch! But a girl should dream.....

First, I imagine what it would be like to buy any house in any area I want. A house on a lake would be what I really want. Not big, but you know, big enough. I want everyone to have a space they call their very own. I want my OWN studio. A place that is all mine for whatever I am currently into. I want my land to be enough that we can expand (build an additional house someday or ???). The interior (or things) wouldn't be much different than they are now. I don't think I would suddenly change to expensive taste. I guess what is telling here is that I really don't want anything that I can't attain without winning the lottery. Maybe that's why I don't play.

OK, but if I did and I did win. One thing I would do that I really couldn't do unless I won: I would pay off everyone's ( my peeps) mortgage. I want this for everyone around me: A place all theirs that they don't have to report to "The Man" to have.

I'm not sure what else I would so. I think I would travel, not sure if I would quit work, but I would probably make a different choice about what I do and how much I do it. I'm not sure why I even feel compelled to write this except that I think it says something about me that the most important thing to me is home. When I am most happy is when I am nesting.

The Alaskan and I have been working very steadily around the house lately. Just about every day we do something that improves the house or our surroundings. And I LOVE it. Of all the things that happen in a day, it is this that makes me feel like I have accomplished something. And it is very indicative of everything around me. I like to have a steady stream of work that has purpose and direction. If things are hard, we have too many projects going in too many directions, I wonder if we will ever get it all done. Everything feels overwhelming, including the little things. I am liable to pull my hair out and be miserable. And we all know, when I am unhappy, it spreads like the worst plague ever!

And then I breathe. Learning that this house and all it entails is a process and it is never all done, has flowed into other aspects of my life as well. Don't sweat the small stuff, right? You know like the weeds that are growing on the side of the house? Yeah, I'll get to them. And I know when I do that, in time they will grow back and I will have to pull them again. Yes, kind of like real life. Sometimes it can be frustrating to feel like there is just so much to do or to keep doing the same things over and over again. I just breathe. Put one foot in front of the other. and know it won't always feel like this.

I find it helps to have goals and direction. Helps to keep the focus. My goals, my direction, whether I win the lottery or not, I hope someday to sip my coffee from a place that is mine all mine with a view like this: