But it's so boring...

Over the many years we've been together, Spoose has steadfastly refused to ask me about my day. Sometimes I will aggressively volunteer details, because if a spouse won't listen about sucky work stuff, who will? It's Spoose's JOB. I've asked why Spoose won't ask me how my day was (I ask about Spoose's day and listen to all the gory details. Because it's MY JOB.).

The answer? "I don't ask you how your day was, because you'll tell me. And it's just too boring."

Let's think for a minute. It's too boring to even hear about. But I HAD TO LIVE IT. The day that would kill someone with its narrative? I was there. It's my narrative! I'll spare you all the CAPS I really want to use in this post. But, srsly, folks. If merely hearing about my day would kill someone with its boringness, how do I still live?

and this is why we don't talk about it

Disrupted adoption. It's a terrible thing, and more people have gone through it than you think. It's a death in the family, at your own hand. It's a Sophie's Choice, and nobody sees the war going on. I still can barely express the toll it has taken on me and my family, over a year later. And I understand how others simply cannot understand it. I really do.

There are so many minefields in parenting. Some are inherent in the business of parenting, and some are laid by other parents. I got to sidestep the whole breastfeeding vs. formula debate by adopting and having all of 2 days to prepare for newborn twins. Formula! Done! Vaccinations? Sidestepped -- while my kids were in foster status, the state chose for me.

Life doesn't give freebies. What I gained by having happy, healthy eaters that didn't mind being buckled in to carseats or going along wherever I did, was totally outweighed by a system that claimed to have the best interest of children at heart, and then systemically let one down every step of the way.

I read Anita Tedaldi's story with great interest. Where others are slamming her for being disassociated from her feelings, I know that you.cannot.handle.the.truth. Yes, you. It's easier to pick apart her word choice or label her as being racially privileged than to comprehend what it must be like to open yourself to taking in a child that you cherish before s/he is even in your home, only to have it all go terribly wrong. This happens more than people know, and not from any fault of the children (god, no!) or the parents involved. I was jealous that Anita had a social worker HOLDING HER HAND and supporting her, where ours just tsked and told us "parenting is hard."

You want to know why I don't give you all the gory details? Read the comments here:
http://www.racialicious.com/2009/10/15/anita-tedaldi-and-guilt-privilege/. I've been kicked enough, both by myself, the system, and so-called "friends." I give Anita props for coming forward and opening the door to a truly dark, grisly world. Call her names if you need to, but look a little deeper. There's more there.

cautiously optimistic

Funny that I'd write this as my surroundings are both under attack by rainfall and earthquakes, but I'm kinda good. Guilty for even writing it, and so way still haunted, but let's just say I'm better.

I'm not sure how it all happened, given The Curse of 2008 and all that legal debt, but somehow we played the economy and had a little crazy streak of luck and bought our first house. In a new town, without all the tragic memories. (Which is also tragic in its own way.)

Planning and executing the move and coordinating new house prep has given me and Spoose a new project that isn't about blame or sadness. The twins are 3.5 years and are stepping up to having their own rooms and being in a new space. It's smaller, but that's good for family intimacy and bonding. And we're doing a lot of just that.

I'm starting to unfurl, slowly, creakily and oh so cautiously. I find hope in the fact that I can unfurl without punishment. I am grateful. Haunted, daunted, but grateful.

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Well. I guess they've updated the firewall at work. I can post text, but no images. Too bad -- the one I would've added is this one: http://icanhascheezburger.files.wordpress.com/2009/03/funny-pictures-cleaning-is-very-hard.jpg

The Invitation

So I'm trying to write my way through all of this stuff. I put together a timeline of all the stuff that's gone down, starting from my decision to become a parent. It was 3 pages long. I put Table of Contents at the top of it because that's what it looked like. I always thought I had a book in me, but I never thought it would be about that.

My insurance-covered therapy sessions ran out, so I thought I'd try the DIY journaling approach and see if I could keep the momentum going. I gave myself permission to write through the TOC in whatever order it came to me, and I guess tonight was writing about pets that are no longer with us. They were some good little critters.

I came across this, which I sent to Spoose early on. It's still what I want and need.

"The Invitation"
Mountain Dreamer
...an Indian Elder

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living.
I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are.
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dreams, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon.
I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shrivelled and closed from fear of further pain!

I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own; if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, be realistic, or to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me if the story you're telling me is true.
I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul. I want to know if you can be faithful and therefore be trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see beauty even when it is not pretty every day, and if you can source your life from God's presence. I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of a lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, "Yes!"

It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done for the children.

It doesn't interest me who you are, how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away. I want to know if you can be alone with yourself, and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.

puttin' on the fritz

Someone wrote to Cary Tennis with a dilemma that sounds an awful lot like me. Except, in my competitive way, I felt smug that my list of loss and trauma was longer. (I have to take pride in something, don't I?) http://www.salon.com/mwt/col/tenn/2009/02/06/jehovah/index.html

I was annoyed that Cary just actively listened, but didn't give the reader any concrete advice. Bah. Give me a rosary or a set of exercises or a recipe or something. Don't just tell me to look within and it will take time. I want a quick fix, dammit.

I'm just starting to understand how recovering from the events of 2008 is going to be more of a marathon than a sprint. Which makes sense, considering it was a big undertaking to get this broken. I'll just have to pace myself. And make a sign to warn passersby.

soundtrack

cowgirls don't cry
ride, baby, ride
lessons in life are going to show you in time
soon enough you're gonna know why
it's gonna hurt every now and then
if you fall, get back on again
cowgirls don't cry

every vote matters

Mantras

It usually drives me crazy when MOrons honk their horns for no discernible reason... like being in a tunnel or backed-up traffic. It's one of those things that will take me from Zen to road rage in about 2 seconds. To counteract this, I made it silly (see: all those photos of empty toilet paper rolls). When I hear needless honking, I sing this little mantra in my head: "Honking makes everything better." And it keeps my blood from boiling.

Given the loss tally, something clearly had to be done. These are my new mantras. I repeat whichever one is applicable every time I'm about to lose my sh*t.

1. It is what it is.

2. It takes how long it takes.

Between the two of them, they cover a lot. And they are not in the least bit silly.

even the kitchen sink

For those of you keeping score at home, here's the loss/trauma tally for the summer.

1. reached $60,000+ in legal fees
2. stressful, stressful job that may or may not be relocated
3. Kid #1 adoption disrupted
4. Co-worker passed away after a long illness
5. E.R. trip for both twins at once
6. Cat #3 passed away
   (cats #1-2 went last year and the year before that)
7. E.R. trip for Little Guy
8. Aunt P's house lost in hurricane Ike
9. repairs needed for car #1
10. Cat #4 passed away, leaving us cat-less
11. repairs needed for car #2
12. cool neighbors moved away
13. Little Girl got a bug bite on her face, which swelled up like a balloon on one side
14. I'm starting a new job at the end of the month
15. Kitchen sink faucet replaced

just same

Lest you think this has gotten better with everything that's been going on...

same but different

Love Remains The Same
lyrics by Gavin Rossdale

A thousand times i've seen you standing
gravity like a lunar landing
make me want to run till i find you
shut the world away from here, drift to you, you're all i hear
everything we know fades to black

half the time the world is ending, truth is i am done pretending

i never thought that i had any more to give
pushing me so far here i am without you
drink to all that we have lost, mistakes that we have made
everything will change, love remains the same

find a place where we escape
take you with me for a space
a city bus that sounds just like a fridge
walk the streets through seven bars
i had to find just out where you are
the faces seen to blur they're all the same

half the time the world is ending, truth is i am done pretending

i never thought that i had any more to give
you're pushing me so far here i am without you
drink to all that we have lost, mistakes that we have made
everything will change, love remains the same

so much more to say, so much to be done
don't you trick me out, we shall overcome
cause our love stays ablaze

we should have had the sun
could have been inside
instead we're over here

half the time the world is ending, truth is i am done pretending
too much time to love defending, you and i are done pretending

i never thought that i had any more to give
you're pushing me so far here i am without you
drink to all that we have lost, mistakes that we have made
everything will change, everything will change

oh, i
this could last forever
oh, i
we could last forever

love remains the same
love remains the same

gaslighting

From Wikipedia:
"Gaslighting is a form of psychological abuse. It involves an increasing frequency of systematically withholding factual information from, and/or providing false information to the subject, having the gradual effect of making the victim anxious, confused, and less able to trust his or her own memory and perception. A variation of gaslighting, used as a form of harassment, is to subtly alter aspects of a victim's environment, thereby upsetting his or her peace of mind, sense of security, etc."

I joke sometimes that I have "Helen Keller syndrome," which is a made-up term (I think) for my need to know that things will be as I left them, especially as I'm creeping around in dark bedrooms and am expecting a clear surface to put my glasses on, or am surprised by a stack of something piled in an area that was empty the last time I was there.

I don't think Spoose is deliberately trying to harass me, but this happens constantly. I've mentioned it a zillion times, but Spoose DOES NOT GET IT. I'll go to the bathroom, wipe down the sink and counter, and go off to do something else. I'll leave for work with my side of the bed made up, surfaces clear, laundry put away. I come home, and the bathroom is a sloppy disaster (and usually out of T.P.), there are bills and used tissues (!) on my dresser and desk, there are stacks of laundry in odd spots, or unfolded laundry strewn all over the bed. If Spoose is lying down, it's on my side of the bed.

I'm not Felix Unger (yet). I just want a little order in my life. I don't think it's too much to ask that I have 1-3 feet of personal space in the entire house that are unviolated. Especially if it makes it quieter when I creep into bed after mopping in the wee hours of the night.

I'll take it as a compliment

I was telling a friend about a drive-by from a coworker that left us both rattled.

She is very well-meaning, but somewhat obtuse. People who know me at all know that I don't like being surprised by unannounced visits that leave me on the spot. Clueless Coworker showed up and insistied I really tell her HOW AM I? and WHAT's NEW? So I unleashed my recent events on her. Then I felt bad when she was stunned and didn't know what to say, and I had to kick her out so I didn't start crying and never stop.

All very awkward and why I hate being amushed at my desk.

My friend's response to this? "You do have a matter-of-fact approach to sharing bad news that can be startling to the uninitiated."

I love it! Am I a freak? Go ahead, ask me how I'm doing... heh.

aftershocks

From Wikipedia:
Aftershocks are dangerous because they are usually unpredictable, can be of a large magnitude, and can collapse buildings that are damaged from the mainshock. Bigger earthquakes have more and larger aftershocks and the sequences can last for years or even longer.

We have gone ahead and disrupted the adoption of Kid #1. This is a controversial topic, like breastfeeding vs. formula or abortion vs. pro-life.

This placement failed because we were not prepared for the special needs Kid #1 was likely to have, and were not linked with one goddamn service or a shred of respite to help us withstand any of it. Add twins and an expensive, epic legal struggle to keep Kid #1 in our family, and we are burnt out, lacking of any hope, and cowering against any additional blows that may befall us.

We so sincerely hope that Kid #1 gets the help he needs, the family he deserves, and the peace he requires to succeed. We know he cannot prevail in our house, and it is as awful as you might imagine. Breaking up with a 4-year old that cannot understand "it's not you, it's me" sucks more than you will ever know. It may well kill me.

words of wisdom

From my wise friend Anne:

"At least the craziness and heartache and bullshit of being a parent is the most worthwhile kind of crap. It sure beats the bullshit of working and the heartache of dealing with idiots who aren't your beloved family."

This is the same friend that advised me to go on a soul-searching journey when I was between jobs. "What you have now is time. You can always get more money, but you can't get more time."

Everyone should have this kind of friend.

fault lines

Bad things happen when there are faults and pressure. Stress builds up within the system, and eventually something has to give, usually with disastrous results. A system can only withhold so much stress before something must shift.

If we're talking land masses, you end up with an earthquake.

If we're talking family, someone gets sick, hurt, or upset.

There are teams of scientists around the world trying to measure just how much stress will trigger an event and what the outcome will be. They also try to predict when and where the next seismic event will be.

If your family is fortunate enough to have experts working with you, they can help predict how stressors will impact family members and work to reduce the stress upon the family unit, member by member. The planet does not have this advantage. Nor does my family, despite our best efforts to be pro-active.

Now, I'm no expert, but I see disaster looming for my family. We're having all kinds of pre-emptive quakes, and all I can do is clean so we'll have a decent place to duck and cover. This is not enough, and knowing this is an awful place to be.

Weekend Tally

Time alone in hotel room = 15 hrs
sitting on balcony with whiskey = 1 hr
sleeping = 10 hrs
shower/primping = 2 hrs
surfing internet = 1.5 hrs
drinking coffee, reading gossip mag = .5 hrs

After I got home...
time on Kid #1's floor during "not nap" = 1.5 hrs
eating b-day cake with family = .5 hrs
doing lunch and cake dishes = .5 hrs
playing outside with kids = 1 hr
prep dinner = .5 hrs
baths = 1.25 hrs
grocery shopping (plus bonus fill up car) = 1.5 hrs
partial unpacking from overnight = 5 min
dinner/TV = 2 hrs
doing dinner dishes & load of laundry = .5 hrs
sweeping/mopping = .75 hr
bedtime = 2am

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Here's a little snapshot of my mental state....

I put Kid #1 to bed last night, called my brother, and started thinking about dinner. I wasn't very hungry, but figured this was due to my cramps. I cooked a 1-handed dinner, which was almost ready when Spoose emerged from the twin bedtime vigil. Spoose saw I was on the phone and went off to do something.

Spoose didn't come back for a long time, and I was still on the phone. I motioned to start eating. This is when Spoose looked at me like I was an insane person and reminded me that we had ALREADY HAD DINNER. We had eaten fast food with the kids when I got home. Doh!

Bingo!

I came home the other day to a perfect bingo -- both bathrooms with empty TP rolls. Huzzah.

You're Gonna Miss This

Makes me tear up every time I hear it, no matter where I am or what's going on.

You're Gonna Miss This
Trace Adkins

She was staring out the window of their SUV
Complaning, saying "I can't wait to turn 18"
She said "I'll make my own money, and I'll make my own rules"
Mamma put the car in park out there in front of the school
Then she kissed her head and said "I was just like you"

You're gonna miss this
You're gonna want this back
You're gonna wish these days hadn't gone by so fast
These are some good times
So take a good look around
You may not know it now
But you're gonna miss this

Before she knows it she's a brand new bride
In a one-bedroom apartment, and her daddy stops by
He tells her "It's a nice place"
She says "It'll do for now"
Starts talking about babies and buying a house
Daddy shakes his head and says "Baby, just slow down"

Cause you're gonna miss this
You're gonna want this back
You're gonna wish these days hadn't gone by so fast
These are some good times
So take a good look around
You may not know it now
But you're gonna miss this

Five years later there's a plumber workin' on the water heater
Dog's barkin', phone's ringin'
One kid's cryin', one kid's screamin'
And she keeps apologizin'
He says "They don't bother me.
I've got 2 babies of my own.
One's 36, one's 23.
Huh, it's hard to believe, but...

You're gonna miss this
You're gonna want this back
You're gonna wish these days hadn't gone by so fast
These are some good times
So take a good look around
You may not know it now
But you're gonna miss this

Still always my turn

I especially like the little TP dregs hanging from this one. It adds a special something, don't you think?

Coulda used this last night...

Hello Kitty will now robo-mop my house!

http://www.chipchick.com/2008/06/hello_kitty_robomop_is_the_bastard_child_of_swiffer_and_irobot.html

Another use for the ole mop

I love it!

http://www.parenthacks.com/2008/05/use-a-sponge-mo.html

Quote from the boat

On the ferry today, there was a big school field trip.

The crew announced, "Please keep your voices at acceptable levels. Most of the people on this boat are commuters, and if they wanted to hear a lot of screaming, they would have worked from home."

HA.

Broken

When I did the AIDS Ride from SF to LA, I was amazed at how much my body could do, that I had no idea was possible until I actually did it. I was amazed at the triumph of other riders -- one guy had NO LEGS and pedaled a special bike with his arms. Another blind rider rode in tandem with his wife. When I struggled up 10-mile hills, I was inspired by some really heavy riders, also struggling up the hills.

And so, I guess at some point, I'll look back on this era and be inspired by my flailing about. I keep thinking it's all too much to bear, but bear it I do. Not gracefully and without complaint, but I'm still here. I'm learning new meanings/nuances for "broken." I used to think of it as shattered shards as a result of a big impact. Now I'm understanding how broken can happen over time, like erosion, or slow crushing weight, or pieces just falling away like old paint. It will be interesting to see what the end result turns out to be.

Logs

Maybe somebody can tell me why a sleeping person will suddenly start snoring the minute you join them in bed and try to fall asleep...

If I can't fall asleep after a full weekend that ended with a mopping session at 1am, new earplugs in my ears, a pillow over my head, and a dose of nighttime cold medicine in my belly because of snoring, it must be loud.

Vacation's all I ever wanted...

We managed to find people to watch all 3 kids so we could get away for a weekend. We sure hoped that it would make a big difference in stress levels, sleep deprivation, our relationship, etc.

We did get some stuff off our respective chests and got huge chunks of delicious sleep. We ate well. I read an entire book in one sitting. We did not miss our crazy home life a bit. We had our 3rd brunch alone since we've had kids. We walked on the beach and took artsy photos. There was no cell phone reception, so we just hoped all was well, and sat in the hot tub.

I think we felt more grounded at the end of it and a little more sane, but it didn't bring us back to 100%. Maybe way up to 30%. Which is something.

Then we picked up the kids and got settled back into our regular life pretty quickly. Kid #1 was such a piece of work that we were back in the negative % range right after bedtime. Ah, parenting.

Turning Resentment into Art

It makes me mad, so let's try to spin it so it makes me laugh. Or at least not mad.





4-07-08 4-15-08

I Always Feel Like... Somebody's Watching Me....

I don't think I've had more than 5 minutes alone lately, including time spent in the bathroom. From the time I got up, to the commute, to the workday, to the kids' bedtime routine, to dinner and TV with Spoose, to our bedtime routines, I was accompanied at all times.

I started to get a little paranoid... I went to the kitchen to make dinner = followed. Went to the living room to close the blinds = Spoose came with and closed the blinds on the adjacent window. After TV, I lingered in the kitchen and did some laundry/cleanup until I thought Spoose was in bed. And just then, there was Spoose in the kitchen.

This morning, Spoose woke me up and immediately started talking about Kid #1's nightmares last night. I lingered in the bathroom, waiting for Spoose to head out to the kids so I could be alone in the bedroom (which I can never do), only to run into a time crunch and had to run for the bus.

I'm starting to understand why lab rats start chewing their own limbs off or attacking others. Someone mentioned time-outs at work and I went delirious at the thought of it -- I'd get to stand by myself quietly in a corner for 1/2 hour +? Who do I have to hit or bite? Sign me up!