Adios mi compadres. Thank you for reading.

I feel happy, even if it is for the wrong reasons. That works for me right now.

I am making it up as I go along. I have no blue print. I am doing this absolutely alone.

My early years as a mother were spent striving for perfection. A goal I never attained and got tired of chasing. While I do have 4 years of early childhood education under my belt, I know that the edge of what I know is looming in the distance.

I really don’t know how to handle older children. What will I do when my children reach the age my sister and I were when my mother died? What will I do when they become teenagers?

I felt alone on so many levels back then, trying to figure out how to be the best mother that I could be and I probably had some kind of experience as someone must have cared for me reasonably well as a baby.

I wonder how much lonelier it will be as a parent of teenagers with absolutely nothing to draw from but the dysfunctional story between me and my last living parent.

I am going to be in therapy forever…

I love sweaters and boots and fluffy socks and anything lined with faux fur.

I love old paper. Old books. Old leather journals.

I love all the things that powerful women don’t care about anymore like cooking, baking, quilting, sewing, gardening, and the like. I wish I didn’t really suck at all of those things. I truly am Gen Y.

I love the movies The Lake House and You’ve Got Mail. No matter the shards of dreams on the floor, I guess I really am a sucker for in the words of Ms. Bradshaw “…ridiculous. inconvenient. consuming… can’t live without you love”.

I’m not really sure what that means anymore though… and I don’t know if I have it. I thought I did but then someone told me I didn’t.

I type so much faster than I can write a letter, but I wish I could turn all of my real friends who I only ever talk to online anymore, into pen pals. I wish I could shop for beautiful stationary. I wish I could get more than just bills, junk, and packages in my mailbox.

I took five pregnancy tests the day we found out I was pregnant which was September 17th 2000. The first people to find out we were pregnant was a co worker of Chris’s and his wife. We went to their house for a BBQ that day.

Once we figured out all of the dates, we think that Cody was conceived on Labor Day weekend the day that Chris quit smoking. August 27th I believe.

I had all day sickness in the first few months but was otherwise healthy. Later in the pregnancy I was put on bed rest for 3 months. I went into preterm labor a few times and was hospitalized for a few days at one point. I got those steroid shots in my thigh to develop his lungs. I took some kind of medication to prevent labor as well.

I was taken off of bed rest on a Thursday or Friday (can’t remember anymore). It was the date they thought I was at 37 weeks. His due date was May 23rd 2001.

On Saturday Chris and I went to the mall. That afternoon I started contracting regularly so I called the hospital and they let us come in. At the time I was still dead set on having a natural birth with no epidural. My labor nurse asked me about it and she said she’d help with that goal.

Hours and hours went by. They did let me walk a little but I was made to labor on my back so they could keep me strapped to the baby monitor. Having never done this before, Chris called his family to let them know we were at the hospital. Some of them showed up (even though they were directed not to) only to be told I did not want visitors.

As the evening progressed I sent Chris out to get movies and food. Just as he arrived at some parking lot (don’t remember which anymore) my water broke. I quickly moved into transition phase. I begged my nurse to call him, and she finally did, and he hurried back.

It was all down hill from there. I was in heavy labor flat on my back for about 45 minutes. I begged for an epidural but by the time the anesthesiologist arrived my nurse told him it was too late.

At some point I recall my nurse trying to get me to breath because I wasn’t doing very well, and I think she put an oxygen mask on me. I was in so much pain I couldn’t follow any directions. She did put a little bit of minor pain medication in my IV but it helped for like 10 seconds.

Before that I didn’t want anyone but the vital few in the delivery room but really when you are in that much pain you don’t notice there is a whole crowd of people down there. Nor do you care or remember that you didn’t get to shave your legs.

I couldn’t follow directions to hold my own legs back so Chris held one while I squeezed his hand (thumb apparently turned purple) and my nurse held the other. She told me to push past the pain and that is exactly what I did. I pushed and stopped as directed while a doctor pulled and stretched me as his head was crowning. I wanted to kill her for that. He had the cord wrapped around his neck.

It was traumatic and painful all at once and then it was over. Earlier we had told them to take him away as soon as he was born and clean him off. I had waited nearly 9 months and could wait another minute or two more for him to be cleaned off before he was handed to me.

I had watched too many Lifetime movies and made Chris promise not to leave him unattended so that he didn’t get mixed up with any other babies. For a few hours he had to be under a heat lamp so Chris stayed with him during that time. I was shaking from the adrenaline for the next hour or so.

When I finally held him his cry sounded like a scared cry. He had bright blue eyes and was only 17 inches long. He weighed 5lbs 10oz on April 28th 2001 at 11:56pm.

I’m reading Motherless Mothers and while I am compelled to keep reading, I also have the urge to hurl the book across the room. I totally would except its an eBook on my iPhone. That would be ugly.

There is a good argument for real paper books, you can hurl them across the room and in most cases the book will still be intact so that you can resume reading once you have calmed down.

I don’t really have anything to say except its hard for me to grasp the tiny phone in my hand when I really just want to hurl it at the orange wall across the room.

I theorize that at this point, the amount of nutrients needed for the child’s excessive feet growth deprives the brain of whatever it is that is needed to take in new information from any paternal input units. Therefore argument is simply the seven year old brain rejecting information that it has no room for.

Well at least that is the little lie I tell myself as I repeat all instructions that don’t begin with “Eat your dessert” at least seven times.

Nonetheless this weekend while I spent a lot of time resting due to this cold; I was able to decide that I won’t quit. I worry that I may not be able to figure out how to do this while I am here with my husband in such close proximity. It is simply too easy to fall back on him. I don’t seem to learn when he isn’t there to catch me and I come crashing down to the ground and shattering in a million little pieces. I worry that I need to be away and alone to figure out how to do this.

However like I said, I have decided not to quit. I won’t give up. If this fails, it won’t be because I didn’t die trying. Although I am not yet staying for myself, who really ever does?

We poured wax up to the top to seal it since it didn’t come with a lid.

Now what?

I have found that my daughter is usually a giver. Hugging her and spending time with her is soothing and healing. She gives energy, sunshine, and love.

My son is a taker. He takes so much all the time. Sometimes it is physically painful to my skin to touch him because he needs so much.

I am sad that it is likely my own bad energy that is ruining him. I am even more sad that there is little that I can do about it right now. When I have a good enough day that I have something to give, I will hug him and I will feel him take everything he can. I will hold him as long as I can, as long as I feel he needs more.

I hope that one day I can feel like a real mom again. Right now I feel like a bystander in their world, watching everything unfold around me.

Caught myself happily cleaning yesterday.

Caught myself skipping today.

Okay so I have heard a lot of wives say that they can do anything in front of their husbands, including the least flattering tasks. That is great that you are so comfortable together but I am here to say STOP!

Even though you CAN do something, doesn’t mean that you should. Ask your man, I am willing to bet that he’ll admit that he’d prefer to pretend that you don’t do those things.

Leave a little mystery ladies. Unless you are pooping glitter and flowers, just close the door. Just close it.

Also getting out of bed on the weekends isn’t easier yet. I can do a little here and there but with all of this medication switching I am not really making progress.

Still I am so lucky, I have like 10 phone numbers of friends on my crisis plan so far. As lonely as I feel, my crisis plan is proof that I am not alone.

I believe in God, a God. Maybe not the God I once believed in but definitely someone. I have prayed to a God for as long as I can remember.

I won’t identify my church as I am sure they would not want to be associated with me at this point. Kind of sad isn’t it? In any case, here are the things that are holding me back from returning to the spiritual path I once walked.

1.) Not allowing women to speak in church (be ministers). Fear of sexual discrimination is what affects my reality more than any other of the “minority” groups I belong to. The amount of discomfort it causes me is greater than I can politely put into words right now. Furthermore the amount of chauvinism that I believe to be occurring throughout the church is unreal and it is the biggest reason I cannot sit peacefully in a room with these people. Perhaps my perception is skewed, I’d love for someone to open a different window for me to look through. I picture myself trying to sit through a service and at some point jumping up and screaming “THIS IS SO FUCKED UP!”. It is best I keep away until I can contain myself.

2.) Don’t believe in yourself. It sounds more negative than intended I am sure but it means not to rely on  your own interpretation of God’s law or the interpretation provided by other “men”. I can see why this is important. It is easy for the vulnerable and weak to be lead astray. However the best way to take power from people is to get them to believe that they cannot trust or believe in themselves. Perhaps it just means that you shouldn’t blindly decide what you believe but should seek council with God on each matter. Unfortunately I don’t believe this is what is being taught through out the church. While there are a few good men teaching guidelines in the church, there are others straying further in than is their right to do.

I could delve deeper into other things that I once believed and now question but don’t see much point in doing so as these two right here are deal breakers.

What is most difficult for me is that I feel as though the things I was brought up to believe that are ingrained in my soul, are interfering with me finding my way. The only way I know to recover is going back down the path I once walked. Unfortunately there are fibers in my being now screaming at me to question things such those listed above.

Depression is the loneliest place and I feel as though I am grasping at threads as I slowly drown in my own thoughts. Having some decided beliefs and a God that I am decided upon would make it a lot less lonely…

My friends thought I bought the urn for myself. That reminded me that they read these words and they worry about me. It kind of opened my eyes to the fact that I would be affecting other lives besides by own if I died.

I am trying to deal with my mom’s death so moments like right now when I want to throw myself out of a window and I curse the fact that the tallest building I have access to is only 4 stories tall - I will remember what my mom’s death did to my life and what my own death would do to my children’s lives.

Distraction is vital to staying alive. I think that is true for even non suicidal people. I guess that is what I’ll go and do now.

Being with him, is being home. Being in his arms is like basking in the warmth of the sun. There is no place I feel safer than with him.

I suppose this makes me somewhat vulnerable, but then there is no one I trust more. It is wonderful to recall that I am madly and sickeningly in love with him still after all of these years. I am so lucky.

I love to learn.

I love to read and write.

I love art.

I love the outdoors.

I love playing the piano.

It will likely take me awhile longer to figure out the rest. I’m working my way off of Celexa and back onto Lexapro.

Of course this is the root of all my problems. I can’t be alone or complete when he is not here. This is what we talk about in therapy. I define myself as his wife. I feel as though I am part of him. I feel incomplete without him. I feel like a better person because I am married to him. Not better like good (quite the opposite actually) but better than you. And then when he is away or he is unhappy my reality comes crumbling down around me.

I am still trying to figure out why. I guess I’ll find out eventually. In the mean time, everything that happens while I am awake is a risk. I can’t stay in bed and hide out though. It seems that getting out bed and keeping busy is the best thing to do for now.

I am also reading this book called A Secret Sadness in addition to How I Stayed Alive When My Brain was Trying to Kill Me.

I am trying to write a crisis plan.

I go to therapy every week (except next week since she’s on vaca)

I started buying aromatheraputic cleaning products. I get angry when I clean, the aromatherapy helps calm me down quite a bit.

I am trying not to be alone. I shouldn’t be left alone and I’ve told Chris that and he does his best not to leave me when alone when I am having dark thoughts.

Sometimes I am really discouraged, others I feel okay. I don’t know when this will end. Hopefully soon.

See I like to go back and read what I have written and eventually my words begin to haunt me and embarrass me. The same thing has happened with this blog a few times now…

I am going to unlock some posts I’ve written. They are rather dark. If you don’t like what you read, please hit that X button in the upper corner of your browser. If you think I should be committed, I agree with you. Feel free to contact my husband and tell him so.

Scroll down at your expense, you’ve been warned.

Every time that I am scrounging blindly on the ground at the feet of the rest of the world I start to get tired. I get restless and tired of being depressed and lost. I start twisting and shifting and looking for a way out. Perhaps it is a new kind of survival mode.

The decisions that we have made (Christopher and I) as with nearly all decisions has plopped us into a swift current river forcing us almost helplessly in one direction. I do not allow myself to climb onto the shore even though it is nearly within  my grasp.

The sense of being trapped and having no good options is perhaps the most disheartening thing of all. It is this reality that keeps me feeling depressed and locked in a vicious cycle.

If only my decisions didn’t affect a couple young and innocent lives around me…

It is like starting over. I was making progress until I switched medications. I wonder how many times I’ll have to do this until we find the right one.

It is not going well. I don’t feel like talking to anyone or doing anything. Chris is being very helpful and supportive though.

I’m reading this book in little pieces called “How I Stayed Alive When My Brain Was Trying to Kill Me”.

So I’m alive kind of. Still trying to get better.

I beg God all the time to just let me die, but he’ll provide no such comfort it seems.

I don’t believe I was meant to live a full life. For a moment I believed I was here to raise the two Littles but now I can’t tell if I am just mucking it all up.

Every emotion filled moment is like a brush with death, but only a tease as if to remind me that I’ll have no such luck today.

I’m afraid I’ll swerve into on coming traffic.

I’m afraid that my urge to reproduce will cause me to seek out sperm elsewhere since there is none to be found here.

I’m afraid I’ll jump if I get to close to an edge.

I’m afraid I’ll speed up and smash into something, anything that is sure to end all of this hell.

I’m afraid that my husband is sick of me.

These are things that I have recognized in myself of late. It is some what eye opening how my physical being is impacted by simply my mental state.

Each day with the help of my medication, these things get minutely easier. It is my hope that I will eventually be able to carry on doing these kinds of things without so much effort.

I feel like I am going insane. I wonder if and when Chris might decide to have me committed. The thoughts in my head are ridiculous. I feel like dying a lot though. Dying because I feel hopeless. Dying because what is in my head is unreal.

Chris took my gun away. He won’t let me near it ever again now. I feel kind of unsafe in the house alone unarmed but the part of me that feels like dying is glad that he has made it harder for me to give up. I can see how part of me might resent this during some difficult moments in the future though.

I get to see my doctor again today so I think we’ll discuss trying a different medication. I won’t stop trying to get better, right now it is only because of the Littles. One day I hope it might be for myself.

If you have never experienced this, let me paint you a picture of what this looks like. It isn’t pretty. I won’t sugar coat this at all, as my ability to think creatively is also non existent.

The place where it is most apparent to me is my interaction with my children. I am some how able to take care of their basic needs. It takes everything I have but I can feed them, dress them, and send them off to school. I can hug and kiss them but when they need anything else from me, I cannot give it.

Every moment with them is taxing and all I want to do is be alone so I can focus on breathing. This was most apparent one morning when I took them out to breakfast at a Denny’s by myself. They were good. They weren’t rowdy or loud. They pretty much stayed seated the entire time and yet it was so incredibly stressful and practically traumatic for me, I just wanted to be done. Of course there are other things tied to this like my perfectionistic tendencies that cause me to insist that my children behave in public as if it were a reflection on myself but its complicated.

As you can imagine this inability to function on no more than a basic level affects every area of my life. There is no on off switch for this. All I can do is take my medication and use my plastic spoon to dig myself out of this 1000 foot hole that was dug with a giant shovel. Each day I try and recognize the areas that are affected. It is a constant discovery process.

One thing I am barely able to do is to read a book. I picked up a book today that I’ve been staring at for awhile. I can only read a page at a time. I am starting to see that the signs of my break down began quite some time ago. I drop words from my sentences when I am writing and even now when I am talking, this began quite some time ago.

The real kicker here is that we think that perhaps my husband is also in survival mode. I don’t want pity, just understanding and perhaps a prayer if you have any to give.

I have lived with out a dishwasher for most of my life and I have been washing dishes since I was 4 years old. However with everything unraveling - for the past 6 months or so I have been threatening to switch to disposable eating-ware. I followed through with my threat recently.

I feel guilty even though our paper plates are going to be composted. I feel guilty even though our bowls, plastic-ware, and cups are being recycled. I feel guilty even though we are using less water. We are consuming,  products that require energy and oil to be manufactured and recycled.

It is kind of all I can handle right now until my kitchen is done though…

-You go to work with some kind of goo on your pants like toothpaste or paint that someone left out or got out and chewed up and you stepped in it.

-Your backyard looks like a small war zone with little landmines and holes everywhere.

-You find pieces of shredded paper everywhere.

-You are the hand and you’ve been bitten.

-You always have something wonderful albeit messy to come home to.

2) Tell your friend you still love them - medicated or not.

3) Look at all of your friend’s photos of their kids/dogs/hobbies

4) Remember you friend’s special dates

5) Spend time with your friend

I am feeling OK. I go to therapy every week. I am adjusting nicely to my fluoxetine (Prozac). I even went out with my co-workers friends the other night.

Just trying to get through each day because I still have so much stress going on in my life right now. I am just working on dealing with all of it.

Thank you friends who have still been there for me even though I’ve been distant. Thank you friends who have listened intently while I throw up my emotions all over the floor.

• Don’t remember birthdays, anniversaries, or any special dates. Or if you do remember don’t call, email, or give any hint that you did remember

• Don’t check in, don’t take a moment to leave a note on their Facebook wall to say “hey hope you are well”, send a free eCard or take any action that says “I still care about you”

• Only stop by to visit when you need borrow something or happen to be in town and need something from them

1) Lay your head on the shoulder of an unquestioning, unassuming, friend that you trust. Just close your eyes and lay there for awhile.

2) Listen to a song that you really like. Music is like medicine for the soul. Listen to songs that calm and caress your soul.

3) Take a walk. Everyone knows exercise helps with depression but no one explains how to climb out from the depression cloud to start exercising. Just try a comfortable walk for now.

4) Seek out a flavor tea that you love. Collect a personal sized tea set that you use just for your own private tea time.

5) Create something very small. Buy a tiny kit of some kind that allows to express your creativity but is a small project that won’t overwhelm you. Like a tiny herb garden, or a tiny ornament decorator.

When I’m not in the office I’m glued to my iphone trying to answer emails and cross things off of my ever growing to do list. Trying to find to time to do anything else but play catch up is just about impossible and school hasn’t even started due to the teacher strike. So of course PTA and Health Committee stuff are just waiting to pounce.

I’m taking the fall off from school so as not to overwhelm myself and so we can pay for a new bed again. (We are going to get a real king bed with no grand canyon in the middle and let the kids have these.)

Every Wednesday I rush off to the other side of downtown Bellevue to see my therapist after work. I always feel more distorted when I leave than when I got there. I feel like a crazy, spoiled person every time I go there. I feel like I’m going to get help for petty problems as I pull into the lovely office park. I’m not starving, dying, diseased, or ill! I think to myself as I sit down on her white couch to tell her about how busy and stressed out I am from being a working, sometimes in college, house is forever being remodeled, soccer mom.

Oddly though, I find myself more content rushing around like a some what crazy lady. It is kind of like a video game where you have to get all the points as you overcome various obstacles like shin guard chewing dogs, missing shoes, and those stupid weeds that keep coming back. I throw my head back and laugh as my husband says he’ll be working all weekend.

My arms look like my mom’s arms. My feet look like my mom’s feet. My hands are big like my dad’s. My nose is big like my mom’s.

I have an unhealthy obsession with jewelry, like my grandma. Currently my house is unfinished and messy like hers too. I am not punctual, like my dad. I have a temper that bares the rage the boils inside me, like my mom.

My kids are a lot like me. Cody is insecure like me. You can tell when he talks. Madison looks just like me. (Her toes look like my sister’s funny shaped toes that I used to make fun of.)

They are like Chris too. Cody looks just like him. Madison has his long fingers. They both have his big, brown, puppy dog eyes and long lashes.

There some strange things I’ve inherited that I love though.

I am a night owl. While not very useful, I love the dark and the night.

I love the rain, trees, and clouds of the Seattle area.

I am conscious of the environment.

The moral glasses I look through are very  black and white. They are few if any areas of grey.

There are so many pieces of me that come from my parents and my upbringing. I’ve been trying to sift those out of the emotional clutter. The better I know myself, I think perhaps the better I can raise my littles to be the people I think they should be.

My own yard is in complete disarray so I have a great appreciation for well cared for landscaping. We were getting some where but then we got Talia back who is a digger. Then the kids started digging as well. They have also taken to playing with our yard equipment to build forts.

When they are old they are going to say to their own kids, “When I was a kid I had to play with wheelbarrows and tarps.”

The parks here are well maintained and manicured. The grass here is so ridiculously and wonderfully green. There is always room for improvement in the restroom department though. 

We burned up the daylight avoiding the hot lava by climbing over the play structures, rolling down the grassy hills, laying under the giant trees, and the kids ran to and fro across the grassy ball fields.

The kids took off their shoes and danced around in the grass.  As usual I was busy snapping photographs and making sure  they didn’t get hurt or contract any germs.

At home I am pretty lax about most things but when we go out I am a germaphobe and a hawk. I don’t like public restrooms or anything that a lot of people touch. I also don’t like for them to be out of my sight for even a second when we are out. I feel a little crazy in the grocery store sounding like a parrot saying “don’t touch that” over and over again.

We made our way home as the sun ducked behind a hill. I had been arguing with Chris before we left for the park so I left my phone in the car. Later I realized that it was so blissful to spend time with them, with out any interruptions but that of curious dog being taken for an evening walk.

I recall these emotions from the days where I stayed at home with them and I miss those moments tremendously. I’m writing it down to remind me to take more uninterrupted time with them.

Christopher has been perfect. He’s only had one person close to him die, ever but he’s been perfect. You can only know what that means if you’ve lost someone close to you.

There are no words to make it better. There is only listening and being there in the moment with the pain surrounding you. It is really hard.

The most upsetting thing has been the thought of two little girls having to say goodbye to their mother. I feel like I’m watching someone else’s story when I think about this.

We were only able to say goodbye to her for what seemed like 10 minutes. It is silly but I kick my 11 year old self for not speaking up and saying “Hey! This is the last time I’m ever going to see my mom! LET ME STAY!”

I know there is no handbook that can tell you how to deal with children when their mother is dying, but I feel it could have been handled better. From not letting us stay longer with her, to stating to me that you blame my dad for my mom dying and everything in between.

I’m not done grieving but I think I will eventually be okay.

Boobs

• “When I grow up I am going to feed my baby from my boob.”   -Madison (age 5)

The nanny has a wee little baby that nurses. The kids are very interested in this concept.

Poop

• They take bets on how much poop will be in a given a diaper. They are very interested in the baby poop and have to be around to witness the changing of the diapers. Whoever guesses the correct amount of poop (not sure how this is measured) gets bragging rights.

Shopping

• “I want to buy beautiful things. You know make up and stuff.”  -Madison

Dirt

• While packing up for a weekend at the cabin, she sent them outside to play for 15 minutes to run off some energy. In 15 minutes they dug a 2 foot hole in the backyard and rubbed dirt all over themselves.

Cody (age 7) is a good little worker and probably dug most of the hole himself. Madison probably stood close by singing and rubbing dirt into her skin.

My kids are funny, good spirited, little people. I’m so lucky.

Maybe it is my depressive, psychotic state but for some reason I feel like now is a good time to explore how I feel about my mom her.

Of all the things we’ve covered so far in therapy, the one thing that made me cry was her. It was so ridiculous. I like distraction from life, grieving is a good distraction. Shall we?

Her ashes are here in my house. I don’t like to remember that. They are in my dog’s bedroom in a plastic bag. Well the velvet bag that holds the wooden box that holds the Ziploc bag of ashes (I looked when I was a kid) is in the plastic grocery bag. God that is so horrible. I should box it up and mail it to her family.

Every photograph my family ever took are here in my house in photo boxes. This makes me so unbelievably angry. We made so many memories and no one even cares anymore.

Someone’s new wife has the emotional maturity of a 10 year old and can’t stand to have photos of someone’s previous life anywhere in their house. Not one. single. photograph.

I don’t want the responsibility of carrying on her memory or the memories of our family. He was supposed to do that. It is his job! I don’t want to be responsible for this!

I read that kids need to know where they came from, so I have to come to grips with all of this and be able to communicate information about my family with a positive spin. So far both children are very interested in how she died. They understand that I don’t have a mother and that she is dead. Much to my dismay they ask a lot of questions about her.

If I don’t do this, I won’t be able to answer questions. So far I’ve used inner hatred towards her for leaving to block out whatever real vulnerable emotions I might have. Probably not the healthiest idea.

I was 11 and she left. This feels horrible. The empty gaping whole people leave when they die, I don’t feel that anymore. I guess this is the crap that comes after that.

When we moved here we decided that since we have this big house, the kids should work on sleeping in their own rooms and their own beds.

Occasionally we used to all take a nap together or watch a movie on our big bed though. I actually bent Chris’s arm backwards in one of our many wrestling matches on the big bed.

In the some what recent past, Chris got rid of the big bed and got us new beds. Yes bed(s). Two twin sized Sleep Number beds that also do the whole sitting up and massage thing. The Sleep Number people told him that the beds would not come apart. They were right, the bolted frame does not come apart. Although they are on wheels so the bed moves around…

However in between our two mattresses is a giant canyon. No matter what, it is always there. The four of us can no longer just comfortably laze around together. I always end up in the giant canyon, which is even worse for my back than our old mattress.

Heck the two of us can’t even sleep right next to each other. My favorite place in the whole world used to be L of Chris’s arm. No more though because it is reminiscent of high school college trying squeeze onto his tiny bed.

If you have ever shopped for a Sleep Number bed, you know that we will have to keep these beds for the rest of our married lives. It is great the beds are so comfy, I never want to get out of my bed on the weekend and I don’t wake up in pain anymore. In some ways though these beds have ruined my life. I was deeply devastated when we first started sleeping in them because of the giant canyon between us. My bed is so comfortable though anymore I can just lay in it and sleep away my anguish forever.

I really just want to lay around with my family on our bed. Watch a movie or listen to the silly jokes my kids tell. Of course we can do this anywhere but it was our own little family thing to just laze around in bed. These beds were not made for families.

If you are thinking of getting a new bed, don’t do it! You never know what kind of disaster you could bring to your life by purchasing a new bed. Just keep your big old bed. Buy some new sheets for it.

I know, I know got myself into this giant mess. In my defense though I said I wanted to move to this city. I did not say I wanted to move to this house. Mr. Maria picked out the house. I said we should wait for something else.

I really want to have a better POV on this. Like oh I’m so lucky that the only problems in my life are my house and my yard. And I should be happy for each day. And oh it could be so much worse.

I can’t though. Everyday that I have to come home to this house I am angry. I can’t handle this. This is why I ran away from home all the time when I was a teenager. We lived in my grandmother’s depressing unfinished house! I hated being there so much.

I would rather stay at work (where stupid angry people call me all day long) than go home at the end of each day. I only come home because I miss my family and they are the only things in the world that make me happy right now. I wish that was enough, but it isn’t. The rest of this is just too much.

The thing that makes me angrier than any of this is everyone who says, it will get done eventually, it will happen in time… and all the stupid shit they get to say because they don’t have to put up with this. BULL.SHIT. It took 2 years to get here. Like we’ve finally made it up to -1.

How am I ever going to make it to the end of this?

Reusable grocery bags are in and here to stay. Many are bigger, stronger, and hipper than your average plastic bag.

Of course you can get the store branded fuzzy reusable bags, but for those who like a little flare in their grocery trips, there are so many stylish and convenient other reusable grocery bag options.

Here are the ones I’ve used so far. I’ve looked at many of the grocery bag options out there. So many of them are just branded canvas bags, but a few companies have taken it to a new great level.

Envirosax www.envirosax.com

I purchased the 5 pack of the Monochromatic Series. At $35 I felt they were pretty spendy for grocery bags. However I get compliments on them all the time and they are very large and sturdy. If you don’t mind the task of rolling them back up, it is nice that all 5 fit in the convenient little pouch. These are my favorite because they are so pretty and hold so much. I’ll probably order more because the snap came off of one and I lost one.

Flip & Tumble www.flipandtumble.com

This bag is ingenious. I only have one because I bought one for my MIL that I keep forgetting to give her. It is super easy to tote around in your purse and even easier to fold back up when you are done with it. This bag is a bit smaller than my other bags but still holds quite a bit. The only drawback is that it kind of looks like you are toting around a pair of socks.

Grocery Buddy

No link for this guy, I found him in a little tub at Whole Foods while I waited in line horrified that I had forgotten my bags.  This little guy comes in a little bag with a tiny carabiner key chain. It is attached to the little bag and easily folds back up into itself. This one is on the smaller side but it is good to have just in case.

Other grocery bags I am looking at:

Re-usable produce bags www.kootsac.etsy.com

I don’t know about you, but I hate it when cashiers just stick things into little plastics bags with out asking. It would be handy to have these along.

Foldable Shopping Trolley by Globally Cute on Amazon.com

I think this is a good option for walking down to the local store just to grab a gallon of milk and maybe a few other things. A situation that might normally cause you drive can be turned into an opportunity to burn some calories, save some gas and, save the planet.

Just the other day I was listening to some songs on the little piano on my iphone (insert snicker) and I realized how much I missed having a piano to play on.

My parents used to say that I would be glad they made me learn how to play one day, and they were right. It is too bad I don’t have a piano to play on.

I am so ridiculous, if it was just me running the show here and no husband to defer to I would sell my van to buy a baby grand and put it in the living room and put the big couch downstairs. I’d walk or take the bus everywhere.

It is okay, you can laugh.

More of my awesome bike gear arrived at the Issaquah REI for me to pick up and now my bike is all decked out and ready for some serious riding. Except for my water bottle holder, I can’t freaking find it. Oh well though because I have a step over frame and there is no where to put it.

Getting out of bed more seems to be helping my mood. I’ve also been avoiding bad news and conflict as much as possible while I am in such a fragile state. I am not watching the news. Talus (my former golden retriever) is going to a new home again. I can barely type that. I so cannot deal with that right now. I don’t even have the energy to state what I really think about the situation.

I’ve been thinking a lot about how stressful our lives are. I’ve been thinking a lot about how I want to move far away to a sleepy town and drive my kids to school in my pj’s in my van and then eat crackers and color with the other children I’d like to have.

That so is not ever going to happen.  So of course I can’t just exist in the mediocre state that I am. It isn’t good enough. I have to strive to attain something bigger and better. Telling me to settle down is like telling the world to stop spinning. It isn’t going to happen.

I read somewhere that we should share our dreams even though we fear public failure because it helps us be accountable and because we can often find support this way. I didn’t find this to be true when we moved from Kent to Bellevue but whatever. Maybe my new Bellevue friends will be more supportive.

My dream is to buy a small piece of land on the island and build a smallish (1200 sq. ft) modern, really environmentally friendly house tucked behind some tall old trees. I don’t care about a view of the lake, I would consider myself fortunate to live on that island at all.

My last dream was to move to this city (which of course may be my demise) but after all of the talking and planning, we made it here. Pretty good for two kids from White Center neither of which has finished college (so far). Despite the unbearable stress this house has caused, the downstairs is just a little bit of paint around the edges, away from being done.

I find the chaos of all of the toys, in a perfectly imperfect new playroom quite peaceful.

My city took 1st place this year! We’ve been in the top 100 at least a few times in the past few years but this year we took the #1 spot.

I don’t follow news with any kind of regularity so I am very slow at learning of anything. LOL

Yay Bellevue!

I really love to write. I have a lot to write about somewhere in my system. I write for my friends every once in awhile. I reach deep inside and pull out a whole bunch of things I didn’t know that I had. My writing seems to warm those few who get to read it on occasion.

Here on this blog, I have a stack of draft posts started on things I want to share with you but I can’t summon the energy to produce and finish quality content.

This week I will be starting visits with a therapist who I hope will be able to help with all of my stress. I have a lot of high level goals looming over my head and a lot of semi permanent life clutter preventing me from traveling a straight path and, causing me a great deal of stress.

Hopefully one day all of this Internet real estate occupation won’t be in vain.

I keep reading that sharing your goals is a good way to hold yourself accountable. So I’ve made a short list of things I’d like to accomplish by the end of the year. I need to create some new and good habits. I have some how morphed into this disorganized, jumbled mess when I am at home.

I used to be so anal and type A. I think moving to a home that I couldn’t make perfect, did me in. In order to survive in a house that is in a constant state of change and disarray, I have given in. I find myself more and more saying “Is this my life? How did I get here?”

I still can’t get over how much I miss the simplicity of the first home we bought, which was a brand new condo with landscaping people built in. I would gladly give up my privacy to move into a new planned neighborhood again where life is clean, planned and, simple.

Getting to the point - here is my I Want list for the rest of 2008.

I Want to bicycle to work.

Since moving to my new office, I haven’t biked in even though at 3.5 miles - it is a good distance to bike. I’ve been scared to bike in because regardless of the route there are at least 2 steep hills to climb there and back, and a lot of traffic to fight on streets with out a lot of room for bikes. I’ve been scouting out paths as I drive to and fro each day though and I think I might be ready soon. I ordered some more gear for my lovely girly bike that should be here next week.

I Want to finish the basement.

Our basement is just a few pieces of trim, a few tubes of caulk, and a couple coats of paint on the trim and doors away from being done enough for me to actually think about decorating. I have a list of like 10 things that need to be done to finish it up.

I Want to clean my room.

Our bedroom has also served as a dumping ground for all of our crap. The room is just full of crap. I hate going in there. Forget getting a good night rest. The problem is that with a house that is constantly shifting to make room for the remodel process - there isn’t a place to put all of this crap that formerly was in my home office.

I Want to keep the house tidy.

This is self explanatory. There are two young kids and two over time work & school outside the home parents. No one wants to deal with this. I refuse to clean up after other people anymore. Again in order to survive, I have given in and just let it go. Tidying up is sporadic and stuff just gets picked up since we don’t have an organizational system in place.

I will check in weekly monthly and report my progress.

While I admit to being pretty damn lazy (my husband will attest to this) there is a certain level of lazy that I cannot tolerate and it is where lazy starts becoming irresponsible; or in this case is so far past the line of irresponsibility that “the line is a dot!” to those in question.

My spouse has a lot of non awesome family. I do too but my family doesn’t force me to hang out with them, so we are more like casual acquaintances - I know just enough to tolerate them or even mildly appreciate their rare presence in my life.

The most non awesome people in his family are two of his cousins. Their actions infuriate me but I can’t say squat to anyone because the grandparents would like to keep the peace even though they are the ones being used and screwed here. I know they are adults too who can make their own decisions but even adults sometimes need someone to stick up for them, unless of course they tell people not to…

I’ve been channeling my evil anger towards the Eviltons but that doesn’t seem to have stopped them from borrowing thousands of dollars from two little old people who don’t have much to spare, and dumping their bratty children on them instead of bucking up and paying their own bills and for childcare like the rest of us. What I wouldn’t give to say that to their faces but then I’d have to listen my husband bitch. (As a couple we go to great lengths to avoid listening to the other one bitch.)

Anyway, I know I’m not wrong here. I am just not mature enough to let this roll off because it keeps coming back up and all I can do is stand on the side lines with my fists clenched. I can’t do anything about it and I hate that.

/bitchy drama

I retook the test and my number went up to 4.92. Click on the photo to see the full size version.

So I am reevaluating some of our plans, making a list of everything we already do as well as everything that we could do.

Some of the more affordable things are walking and biking to the store more since it is so close, buying in bulk more rather than the individual sized things. We just used our last ziploc bag the other day, and I purchased some good reusable tupperware that we can use instead. I am also thinking that with as much as it rains here, we could collect a lot of water with a rain barrel.

A lot of the places where we could make a big difference are expensive, like an eco friendly remodel, like new windows and more insulation, and even paper products made of recycled paper. I don’t often buy paper products made of recycled paper because they are so expensive. As a kid, my dad always bought paper products made of recycled paper. We used to joke with him that our toilet paper was like wiping your ass with tree bark.

The guilt of not doing the downstairs more eco friendly is going to haunt me for a long time. The good news is that we did use products that are long lasting and sturdy as well as neutral and not trendy, so they should not need to be replaced for a long time.

Today I have to go to a store that is 3 miles away. I was thinking that we should try taking the bus but I don’t have any cash on me. I rarely have cash on me so I would have to drive over a mile to get to my credit union’s ATM. Also public places like buses are a breeding ground for germs and my kids like to touch everything. I think we’ll have to drive but I still have guilt.

When you are weak you wonder if you can ever be strong again.

When you are weak you gasp for breath from the unsurmountable weight that is on top of you.

When you are weak you can hear the voices of those standing close by calling for you to get up. You know that you should be able to move, but you cannot.

When you are weak it is easier to simply close your eyes and go to sleep.

When you are strong again, you now know why the weak must be gently and slowly lifted to their feet.

Maybe that means I don’t care. Maybe it means something else…

Fuck you.

Fuck you for leaving.

Fuck you for tainting my sister’s birthday week.

Fuck you for everything you did to me.

Fuck you for who you are were.

I admit that 2. I really suck at math.

I admit that 3. I am over scheduled and under rested and stressed 90% of the time and it is all my fault.

I admit that 4. I could happily spend 12 hours working as long as it is in front of a computer.

I admit that 5. I have the most unorganized (read: messy) room in the house.

I must now painstakingly retype every single one of those posts into Notepad before I can bring it here. There was some good stuff in there from like two years ago.

I am stupid.

Fast forward to today and due to an unfortunate incident the little dog is back here with us and the big dog will soon be a in a new home as well.

The good news is that they took her training to a new level while they did have her and she is wonderful have around now. I feel as though I should be paying them. They returned a more fantastic dog than they got.

I can’t say I didn’t miss having her around. She is a lovely little dog. So here I am once again with a dog.

Background: the house was a rental home for 25 years before we acquired it. During those 25 years more than one owner attempted to fix or remodel the home in some way. The work was very poor and nearly everything that is not original to the house has to be removed.

This is our first single family home. Even though we owned a condo before living here, we did not come into this home with a lot of money. We can’t afford costly materials for this remodel. Unfortunately nothing we have purchased other than compact fluorescent light bulbs are things that one might consider eco-friendly (even those are made with mercury and I have issue that).

We are just about finished with the daylight basement and ready to start on the upstairs which includes the kitchen and 1 full bath. I am trying to redeem us and (purge some guilt) by looking for some kind of eco friendly cabinet option.

So far I haven’t found anything that is not expensive. Even reclaimed wood some how fetches a fantastic price. Don’t even get me started on those eco friendly counter tops that look like resin but have like recycled glass embedded. They to are far too expensive for our very modest budget. We certainly do not have the time to try and build cabinets ourselves out of reclaimed wood. We are remodeling our entire home and yard so think like Ikea cheap for the kitchen.

What is a green gal who is stretched for time and money, to do?

Well if we are lucky enough to be able to keep our house as long as we would like to then we will go with the cheap kitchen option for now to make living here less dreadful and hopefully be able to upgrade to a really awesome kitchen one day in the future. If nothing else, potential future buyers hopefully won’t throw up when they walk in.

It is so nice to know the kids are well cared for in the safety of our home while we are away at work.

This once again traumatic summer childcare experience has caused me to seriously consider staying at home but I haven’t made a decision yet.

The other option I’ve considered is keeping our nanny on through the school year to clean and manage our household and be with the children after school, again I haven’t made a decision about that yet.

(Read: Don’t know if I can afford it.)

I am still eager for the school year to start, so that we can fall into our familiar routine once again.

To end the afternoon I got a phone call letting me know I would get all of my money back other than the fees for the week the kids were there. Over $600 in fees and tuition I am getting back thankfully.

Now if I can just focus long enough to start studying for the math test I have tomorrow night…

As I mentioned before I don’t like summer too much. My children have to go to a different childcare during the summer. Last year we had an incident at the summer childcare through the school district - combined with other things that did and did not happen, we looked for a different solution for this summer. I was extremely unhappy with the things that occurred last summer.

This past Monday the kids attended their first day at the new childcare.

I was so upset at the situation that I cried when I left. They are in the basement of a facility that apparently does not have AC. They spend the majority of the day in this large room with few toys with kids that are much older than their age range. Today they didn’t even split up into the younger kid rooms and were just forced outside. The room doesn’t feel clean, the toys are clearly not sanitized. There are broken toys in broken unsanitized bins.

It is just kind of a place to stash the children when they aren’t taking their turn to go on a field trip to places like a dirty public beach to play in the freezing Puget Sound with a total of 60 kids in tow.

The first day that my husband picked them up, the door between the childcare and the pool was wide open as were every other door in the facility. The person inside didn’t know where our children were. My husband had to wander from room to room and then outside to locate them.

There are a few other “minor” things that all add up to one big failure. Tomorrow I am bringing them with me to the office for a little bit and then taking the rest of the day off to interview nannies. I pray that we find one right away. Please pray for us. I cannot and will not continue to send them to this childcare facility.

Tomorrow I have to call the grandparents and ask someone to watch them for Thursday and Friday. I can’t drop off my daughter there even one more morning. This morning when I dropped them off I was equally disgusted and upset with the facility, the staff, the situation, everything.

The car does get great gas mileage and the price of fuel isn’t going down here. I guess that is how we (and everyone else) justifies it. Still the sting of the hypocrisy of the situation is raw.

I need to get an STE certificate for my job, okay fine. I am excited to do it but there are problems. The classes are 8 hours a day on Saturdays, 3 weeks a month for 9 months starting in August.

Okay fine except in the fall soccer is on Saturday morning so I will be missing that. Also my husband usually works Saturdays so we are going to have to alternate with my mother in law (if she isn’t at her cabin) and I suspect we’ll need to find someone else too. Also I used to attend church on Saturdays and hoped I would grow a soul one day start going again this year. Oh well summer 2009 isn’t too far off right?

The best part of all of this is that each class is $550 a month. That is almost two car payments or almost two weeks of groceries. Luckily my husband has offered to pay for the classes because I can’t seem to find a part time job that fits into my crazy ass schedule.

Here is a screen shot of my view. I still refuse to get LASIK though, even if I am a candidate. I am chicken shit.

Notice how I only have room for one or two open windows in my start bar. It does that stupid pile thing with only a couple windows open.

Today (at work too) I had to stop using the tree style tabs because they are just too difficult to see where one tab stopped and the next started. It would be nice if I could adjust their height.

I am considering hooking my laptop up to my television so that I’ll have a bigger monitor until I am ready to get a bigger laptop (i.e. get me a big ole Macbook Pro because my husband’s giant Vista laptop is practically useless unless I disable anything that even resembles virus protection so the thing may as well be a huge wad of toilet paper). June 30th is sneaking up on me… /rant.

The only other people I know whose screen res is this low are people in their 50’s… this is so sad. LOL.

*I almost published this post as a page. Apparently I can’t read now either.

Summer sucks because I don’t like being too hot. Even though I have AC in my house and car, it has been too hot to be outside a lot the last few summers.

Summer sucks because all my kid’s friends with SAHMs ask to do play dates in the middle of a week day. Unless it is a national holiday - assume that I am at work and my children are unavailable for play dates.

Summer sucks because it is the busy season for my husband’s company so vacation is rarely possible. I do not vacation with kids and with out my husband. I did it once… never again.

Summer sucks because my kids have to go to a new childcare for the summer and make yet another transition.

Summer sucks because I still have the expectation on myself to some how magically be with the kids and entertain more like I did when I stayed at home.

Luckily both the preschool and 1st grade are sending home stacks of homework for the kids to do over the summer so that they don’t forget everything.

Luckily we have grass covering 90% of our backyard this year and can spend even more time back there.

Luckily oil is more expensive. We are forced to be more frugal but also more creative. We are finding that with careful planning and creativity out lifestyle is not impeded upon at all. In fact it is not so careless, it is meticulously planned, it is more green. Challenge of this nature squeezes out excess. It is interesting to change and evolve. I will miss my luxurious van but either make small uncomfortable adjustments now or big painful ones later.

Luckily there are many sports available for the kids to enjoy all summer long since I do not permit week day sports during the school year yet.

Luckily I am an expert popsicle creator.

Luckily life goes by at the perfect speed.

When I was young I would hate how people in movies could never bring themselves to say the words they really wanted to say.

I find myself in that precarious situation more and more these days. The words just sit there like a cement block on my tongue, daring me to budge them over the cliff of my tongue and onto my lips.

More than that, the people I want to say some very important (to me) things to - are no where to be found when I want to say the things I have to say. This is my own fault of course since I have not sought these people out. They have no clue that I need to pour out my soul to them.

Then there are people whose attention I have managed to grab and less than a quarter of the way through what I am saying, it becomes obvious that they either don’t care or don’t get it.

I feel like one of those dark little emo girls who feels like no one in the world understands her.

Someone once said to me (after reading my blog) “I think you are depressed”. No shit! I say so right on my About page.

I’m going to repost all the old posts from the last session, soon.

I’m sorry if you have ever linked to me because I know that you have broken links. I’m going to try to have more stickiness and not to move around anymore. My blog is getting ADD meds and so am I.

We had a wonderful evening last night and I am still feeling floopy from it.

Maybe it is because I was awakened hours earlier than I wanted to wake up, although I could honestly be just as angry about garbage being left on the floor as anything else - either way I am in a yucky mood this morning. My first tweet of the day was not pretty. (Not going to link because I’m lazy and grumpy and because if you really wanted to find me on Twitter - you could.) Oh yeah and I’m not sending Twitter what liiiiiiiiittle tiny link juice I do have.

I recently started blogging for green elsewhere to see if I could really do it since I read about blogging all the damn time. My lack of completion of the required number of posts to get my pennies at the end of the month- some could say is in indication of my laziness but really it is just because it doesn’t pay that well (I could make more money standing on a corner with a sign that says “Will Not Work”). I have ideas for all kinds of great posts but they all require additional effort. Effort wasted for a few measly dollars. I felt like an ass the first time I started to research info for a post that was producing little more than a dollar a day.

Now, I’m not saying that my typed word (besides the hundreds of emails I churn out from my cubical) is worth more than that but at the moment the motivation for this gig isn’t there… oh well. This morning I don’t seem to care. Oh how I wish I cared… but I don’t. I really just want to sleep. I am not a morning person. I want to sleep until noon everyday and then I want be left alone to work 12 hour days from 1pm - 1am 6 days a week.

Unfortunately I can’t do anything I want. I have to be all normal and stable because apparently kids need all that shit. So even though I am one giant freaking mess on the inside, in a few minutes I am literally going to sing “morning, morning morning!” to my kids as I rub their backs to wake them up. /Content bitch

I hope your Wednesday (or Thursday my Australian friends) begins better than mine. I hope you have a great week. We should get together for cocktails and discuss the real estate market and the economy and our kids. Lets do that, soon.

It is sad that it had to get this far but I have shed many happy tears today because finally our country is taking a look around and trying to change. You can’t ignore the Green movement anymore and I am so thrilled that so many people care.

Being Green can be about taking small steps in your daily life and it all adds up. Sure big things like switching to solar power or to one of those micro Smart Cars are fantastic but not realistic for most people yet. I believe the little things that we all do to be more conscious of our actions, our impact, and our consumption are going to make a huge difference. One change, one habit at a time.

Happy Earth Day, thank you for caring.

Maddie hasn’t been away from us for this long before. She’d be content to be with me at home all day, every day. I feel guilty that I can’t give that to her. Not because I can’t afford it, but because I can’t stay at home anymore. As much as I can’t stand some parts of my work, the daily routine of having to be some where, helps me be sane. Mostly as a distraction from my self I’m sure.

When I was a SAHM, I was severely depressed and begged my husband to help me find work so I could get out. I know SAHMs are very busy with schedules and play dates and homework and keeping clean houses and a million other things but there is a certain amount of leisure that goes along with being a SAHM. I do miss that but I couldn’t go back. I don’t think I could even go back to working from home, which I also did for a few years.

Still, I think about doing it about a once a week just for her so that I don’t have to say goodbye to her in the morning when I drop her off at childcare.

On the other end of the spectrum, here I am letting my mother in law take my kids for 5 days and deal with the lunches and homework and what not. It was nice of her to offer because I never would have asked. The first night is always the hardest. There are no tiny teeth to brush or ducky books to read or stuffed animals to hunt for. The silence is permeable. This is where the dogs come in handy. They are just as rowdy and needy as the kids. When they go away, it is going to be rough.

This time, neither Chris or I are worried about being productive with our child free time. We are just stopping to breath. We’ve done weekends before but not a regular working week before. This is new. Friday I woke up, got dressed, tossed my hair up in a pony tail, walked out the door, got into my van, stopped at Starbucks and then went to work. That was it. I was walking out the door about 10 minutes after having woke up - the simplicity felt surreal.

I guess parenthood is filled with guilt because I’ve enjoyed just being me and not mom for a few days.

And now for your singing pleasure: 

Days are the sunniest
Jokes are the funniest
Rabbits are the bunniest
Hives are the honeyest
Elephants the toniest
Troubles they’re the noneiest
Everywhere I Go!

Straws are the bendiest
Time is the spendiest
Cards are the sendiest
Books are the lendiest
Funs the pretendiest
Friends are the friendliest
Everywhere I Go!

Berries are the fruitiest
Shoes are the bootiest
Puppies are the cutiest
Treasure is the lootiest
Teams are the rootiest
Horns are the tootiest
Everywhere I Go!

Birds are the tweetiest
Candy is the sweetiest
Socks are the feetiest
Tricks are the treatiest
Drums are the beatiest
Lunch is the eatiest
Everywhere I Go!

Flowers are the smelliest
Jams are the jelliest
Rains the umbrelliest
Tales are the telliest
Wishing is the welliest
Buttons are the belliest
Everywhere I Go!

Skies are the bluiest
Cows are the mooiest
Gum is the chewiest
Ghosts are the booiest
Goo is the gooiest
You can be your youist
Everywhere I Go!

Today I found a new home for both my dogs. I will have them for 3 more weeks before they go to their new home. They will be together thankfully, with a nice, good family who will be around all the time to take care of them and give them lots of attention.

I am really really bummed more than words can express.

However, my younger friends who are closer to my age tend to be more optimistic and we are able to say encouraging things like “I KNOW everything is going to be okay for you.” We don’t question each other and say things like “How do you know everything will be okay?”

In a cynical, bitter world it is nice to have that kind of support. I am very lucky to have found friends that I can relate to, even if I only talk to them online and on the phone and very rarely get to see each other in person.

I think there is something to be learned from from people like my fabulous friend Lish, who is a constant source of support and sunshine.

I don’t know what to say or do. I am worried and there is nothing anyone can say to make it better or make me worry any less.

We have so many plans for our future but do we keep going on that path or do we be extra cautious and divert from that path and work on being prepared for the worst? No one can tell us if or when things might get worse.

We are just charging forward in the pitch black middle of the night.

If you read previous iterations of this blog, you know that I am very impatient. I can’t stand waiting. I have to do now while I’m in the mood.

Unfortunately I’m not in a place where I feel comfortable doing that yet so somehow I have to just wait. This quarter is almost over and I will not be returning to school until it is full time. I can’t earn the grades I want and work full time. It can’t be both, I’m only sorry I didn’t give in to that reality sooner before I dragged my GPA through the gutter.

I eagerly await the day I can explore the academic life again but for now I am just waving good bye for a couple years. If you hear me talking about signing up for a class again - yell at me to step down from the ledge.

My husband is sick. He has been sick for over a year. He has enlarge lymphnodes in his lungs. Every time he catches a cold, he stays sick for months. He coughs all the time…

He has been through numerous tests and procedures and they still don’t know what is wrong with him. Today he is having surgery to remove two of the enlarged lymphnodes for further investigation. I am grateful that he should get to come home the same day but there is a reason that someone that can make medical decisions for him has to be in the waiting room the entire time.

Of course I will wait for him just as I have for all of the other procedures he has had over the last year or more but this time he’ll seem more sick. I am still not okay with the hospitals. I spent a lot of time in the hospital as a child. Not because I was ill but because my mom was progressively more ill. Every time I have to visit someone in their hospital bed I feel like vomiting.

So I probably won’t be able to say all of this later but I don’t usually talk about how much I love Chris because I tend to go over board and it makes people throw up in their mouth a little. So hold on to your breakfast.

I have saved every corny letter, note and card that Chris and I have ever shared. While we have gone through some rough times - I love him so freaking much. Some would say that I am a bit obsessed with him which I think is pretty awesome after 7 going on 8 years of marriage. I can’t imagine my life with out him.

We aren’t a perfect couple at all. We argue like you wouldn’t believe but he is the most important person in my life. I trust him more than anyone. Surprising to even me I’ve found that I respect him more than anyone.

Well I just needed to get all of that out now because in a few hours I won’t be up to saying anything.

Even before my mother died (uncomfortable pause to soak that up); I wanted a daughter. I didn’t know why but I always knew that I did. The day that I brought her home I felt a new level of completeness but even now I can’t exactly put into words why.

Yesterday she sang me a song she learned in preschool about clouds in the sky. Just sitting with her listening to her tiny voice was such a blissful moment, just because it was her. I try and soak up every moment I have with her. I am not eager to admit that she is 5 now.

I bother to regale anyone with this story because my daughter reminds me to just stop and I hope you’ll take the time to do the same. Just stop and enjoy your children.

I dream of the darkness

I dream of the silence

I dream of the wind

I dream of the fog

I dream of the cold

I dream of the rain

I dream of comfort found in these things

At the site posted above there is a link under the 5:00 info to listen to a recording of radio show. Check out the last quarter inch (sorry don’t know how else to put it) or more of the recording. I got into my van with my children who happen to have different colored skin (despite having the same last name and same parents) just in time to listen to this gem of a caller.

Mark from Bellevue refers to single mothers as “parasites on society”. Mark from Bellevue also believes that because he makes more money than apparently a lot of people - he should have his own designated lane on the freeway because his time is so much “more valuable” than everyone else’s.

Mark you pretentious ass, thanks for perpetuating the myth that people from Bellevue are self righteous, holier than thou snobs. To think - I share a city with this person. He could be one of my neighbors for all I know. Maybe he is that jerk in the beamer that likes to speed down my street all the time.

Although I am not a single mom - I am a mom, a woman, a wife, a human, a friend to other single moms, and a person with a brain and I find Mark’s point of view laughable. I’m sure that as a talk show host that Mark claims to be, he is contributing so much more to society than single moms.

I bet that Mark is probably one of the people in a vehicle with one person in it who has tailgated me in my van as I made my way through the crazy traffic here. What was I thinking trying to drop my kids off or get to work in one piece. How selfish I am, I didn’t even take into consideration the important people such as Mark the talk show host from Bellevue whose time is so much more valuable.

*snort*

Self Respect

I really should have numbered each of these topics by importance. If I were going to do that Self Respect would be #1.

Society does not tend to look favorably upon young mothers. It isn’t difficult to understand why but for those of us behind the stereotype, on the other side of the dropped jaw and wide eyed stares, going to school and working, trying to figure out who we are - society is a haunting voice.

It is difficult to participate in society especially in the world of other parents when you aren’t welcomed with open arms. Young mothers need to remember that they have a right to be there (wherever that may be) just as much as any other parent.

You’ll often see me vent about my run ins with yet another parent whose jaw needs to be reeled back in with a fishing line, or has to play 20 questions and practically gives themselves an aneurysm trying to do the math.

Initially I felt intimidated by all of these other parents, especially these older women who can be so crass. In one of the early years as a volunteer in my son’s preschool I tried a new approach. I immediately put on the defense and made sure to give everyone a death stare as I went about completing my volunteer tasks. I definitely got a lot less annoying questions but I also didn’t make any friends.

I eventually learned to just be myself and be friendly to others. I went through a lot of weird phases as I tried to figure out who I was, where I fit in and what I was supposed to be doing. As I learn more about myself, I continue to attract and surround myself by other people who help make my life enjoyable.

I know that I am not any less of a person than any other parent. I still have to work hard not to compare myself to others. I have made a point to trust myself, my decisions, wishes, goals and beliefs. I respect myself enough to know when I don’t have all of the wisdom or knowledge needed to make some decisions.

Self Respect is what will carry you the furthest. It will enable you and empower you. It may be hard to find in the beginning but don’t give up. You are someone to be respected because you are trying to be a good mother.

Support

I’m not sure I can fully explain how important it is to have support when you are staring motherhood in the face at a young age. So I’ll just tell you about the support I’ve received and what it has and does mean to me.

The first place I received support from was my new in-laws. I was very fortunate that they were and are so kind and caring. While I didn’t accept that support right away, I eventually came to rely on it. In many ways parenting has only gotten more difficult. By not burning that bridge even though I just wanted to be left alone, I have created a pipeline for support to flow down to me and to my children. As I face new challenges this support is invaluable.

Support doesn’t have to come in the form of family though and it some cases it may not. Another place that I received support from in the early months was from a woman who worked in my school district, in a program for young moms. While she couldn’t technically “help” me because I didn’t qualify for any aid, she still came around. She came to talk, to listen, to point me to resources. Those few minutes here and there meant so much to me because it was just a time where my friends weren’t around very much and I was still kind of lost. It gave me a little extra push to keep going.

Lastly the place that I go to the most and have gone to the longest is a group of other young moms that I originally met online in a message board group years ago. This group of ladies is a bit like a lifeline. Sure we have our ups and downs like any friends but many of us have met one or two other members. Many talk on the phone, IM, email, snail mail etc. Just the other day I received a wedding invitation from one of my dear friends that I’ve never met in person. In this small group we go through life’s trials and watch each other and our children grow and find comfort in the fact that we aren’t alone.

The point is to find support somewhere. It doesn’t have to be in person. It doesn’t have to be family because lets face it, that isn’t always going to happen. It just has to provide you with comfort, a “shoulder” to cry on, a listening ear, and an open mind.

Admittedly we use a wood burning fireplace to heat our old inefficient home to save money with our natural gas heater set to kick on at 68 F. With many old single pane windows sadly both the fireplace and the heater don’t rest for long.

While I certainly sympathize with those who also burn wood to heat their homes, there are a few guidelines we should all follow to make sure that our burning has the lowest impact possible on our environment and air.

1) Check your Air Quality reports. In the Pacific Northwest you can go HERE.

2) Don’t burn in just a plain fireplace or old stove. Please seriously consider upgrading to an EPA certified insert, especially if you a frequent burner.

3) Be sure to build your fires properly to limit the amount of smoke output.

While wood burning is not necessarily an ideal way to regularly heat your home, responsible burning can reduce impact to the environment, heat more efficiently and lessen aggravation to your neighbors.

-maria

Resources

In the state that I live in we are blessed to have so many resources for young mothers and families in general.

Depending on your needs whatever they may be, you may find resources online, with your family and friends, at your church or through a program in your community and even your doctors.

A resource can be anything from getting baby food coupons from companies that sell baby food to a reliable babysitter so you can attend classes, to recipes for healthy meals that won’t cost you fortune and even advice about how to get your picky toddler to eat.

Look and ask for the resources that you need. There are so many helpful people and programs out there. Not once have I seen any of my friends who are also young mothers go with out something they need because they are always looking for resources to help them accomplish their tasks.

When my son was a baby I always had tons of coupons that came in handy for all of the inevitable crap you buy for your first born. When my daughter was born my friends at church would hold her or play with my son so that I could take time to myself to listen to the minister or afterwards chat with other friends.

I am forever grateful for the many resources I have drawn on over the years. Even now when we are in the position to be a resource of some kind to someone else, I still seek out other kinds of resources for the ever changing needs of our lives.

Remember that no person is an island unto themselves. We were not meant to go through life without one another. You will always need some kind of resource in your life, learn how to ask for help now when you are needing it the most.

Education

Of course a formal education never hurt anyone and is something I highly recommend that all young mothers pursue at least for the sake of being educated if nothing else. However there are other kinds of education that a young mother can benefit from. Here are just a couple.

Personal financial management is probably one of the biggest issues that a young mother will have to deal with. Your financial life dictates pretty much everything else in your life. Using your jump start into adulthood to your advantage by setting financial goals and plans now will only benefit you in the long run. A good financial planner will meet with you, plan with you and advise you for no upfront costs. There are also many great books you can check out from your local library as well as many resources online. Just seek and you will find.

Nutrition knowledge and cooking is a life long invaluable skill to have. The more you know about nutrition, the better decisions you can make for yourself and your child. The better you and your child can eat, the fewer health problems you and your child are likely to have. This will not only save you money but possible heartache in the long run.

The more you experiment and grow into your own cooking style, the more you’ll enjoy eating nutritious food. There is something rewarding about eating a meal you created on your own. Maybe you only have an old two person table in your tiny apartment but if you sit there everyday for at least one meal with your child, you are making memories.

Our first home as a family was a tiny 650 sq ft 1 bedroom apartment. Cody and I used to sit in our tiny dining room with the sun coming through window and eat lunch everyday. When my daughter was born we had purchased our first home, an 800 sq ft condo. Around this time I fell into a deep bought with the depression. The one thing I could effortlessly get up for over and over was to feed my children. I was somehow able to prepare food for them even though at moments I could barely breathe. Sitting with them at the table was the most sane part of each day.

Creativity

All moms can use a dose of creativity; young mothers especially need creativity to navigate the murky waters of motherhood. Whether it is getting a cranky toddler to stop crying when you are at your wits end, figuring out how to cook food that isn’t from a box or trying to juggle your overloaded schedule; creativity is a key ingredient to success and sanity.

In the early years of motherhood I found that getting in touch with that part of me that was still very a much a young person and strapping on my creativity boots, helped me deal with my needy son. Creativity doesn’t have to be about scrap booking or painting a mural on your child’s bedroom walls. Let your child and your surroundings inspire your creativity to help you accomplish your most daunting tasks. You may find that your new found creativity can extend into many aspects of your life.

While you may have a hobby or a career that helps you define yourself, one of your crafts is also being a mother. Own your craft, grow into your uniqueness and allow yourself to be good the mother that you are. The best way to do this is using your own unique creativity.

I used to often find myself comparing my parenting skills with that of the other parents around me. It is easy to get sucked into a vortex of worry and self doubt. Especially when your the path ahead is not always clear and despite your lack of life experience, you are forced to carry on.

Realize that you will have your own unique way of parenting and your journey will be very different than that of those around you. Learn and grow and prosper from your unique experiences as a young mother. You have SO MUCH to offer your child.

So I have resolved to be equally inquisitive. When faced with the question “Are you a mom?” I now proudly say “Yes! I am. Are you?” Now I just need to get a shirt that says “Not the Nanny” and I’ll be set.

Books.

Coffee.

Surrounded by other friendly night owls.

Shiny pages, organized shelves, music.

Do you remember?

Racing to the city limits.

Full moons.

Winding roads.

Fresh air.

Silence.

Do you remember?

Please don’t forget.

The thing that struck me the most was how much companies like the golden arches target and groom children to be lifetime consumers of their products. They do a good job of explaining that in the documentary. That part made me cry.

I stumbled across the entire Super Size Me film online so you can check it out.

So far the class is teaching me the reasons behind a lot of the things most of us already know. Just as with my biology class, the more I learn about the human body and how it works, the easier it is to make better decisions. Just as I said in my personal blog the other day:

“Be Cool. Stay in School!”

-maria

I heard you coming around a corner today and instead of waiting around and risk spending even 1 minute of sharing air in a confined space, I bolted and took the long way. While I was traipsing all over hill and dale I realized that I’d sooner fall down 22 flights of stairs (because 23 would be over doing it) than have to make small talk with you and listen to your stupid voice and your stupid words anymore than I already have to.

Sincerely,

-Not buying the load of BS that spews from your trap daily

iPhone (as I receive a text message): Ding!

Stupid bitch: Is it time to take your medication?

Me (in my head): No. I’ve stopped taking it so I’ll have an excuse when I bitch slap you.

Had I grown up and attempted a normal life before I had children, I might have realized it isn’t worth it to be so normal. Sure there is mental stimulation and occasionally a truly interesting conversation but bliss is so sparse and so fleeting and yet we all work so hard for all of “this”.