As long as habit and routine dictate the pattern of living, new dimensions of the soul will not emerge.
Henry Van Dyke
Tools
10
Jul 10
The Stuff in Storage
Have you ever had stuff in storage? Do you pay monthly rent on a storage unit? Do you stuff boxes in an attic or on a garage shelf only to forget what is in the box, and then have to dig through to reacquaint yourself with your own belongings?
On June 23rd I put most of my life in storage. That’s an analogy. I didn’t really box everything up, label the boxes with a Sharpie, stuff the boxes on the highest shelf and turn the key on a lock that would keep ‘my stuff’ safe.
I had recently switched how my little house gained access to the internet, tried to limit how much we watched TV, and ditched the landline. I was attempting to save us some money, while still allowing us access to the things we love and can learn from, without the possibility of turning little impressionable minds into jello with all the stuff we’d been watching on TV.
On June 23rd, we were ten days into our new internet plan, and we’d surpassed our allotted budget of internet usage by $100. Yep. I didn’t do a real great job on my homework. This new plan didn’t account for how much we use the internet for learning, video streaming, Googling interesting videos on the best dogs for kids, how to design fashions for Barbie, or even watching The Jetsons.
It was a bozo move on my part. Continue reading →
26
Jun 10
CliffsNotes to a Newborn
I sat in the lobby of the old hospital building when my kids were in their last counseling session. The session was over two hours long. I sat and waited. I should have gotten groceries. I should have run to the bank. I could have done a lot of things. Will was concerned that Mark might take them ‘somewhere’ after the session. To offer Will some comfort, I promised that I’d be sitting there when the kids got out of the session.
I did not want to risk missing them and frightening them.
I sat for two hours wondering how I got to this place. How did I marry this guy? How did I get into a situation where I have to guide two precious people through this strange relationship with their dad?
I was the only person in the lobby area. I was surrounded by masculine leather furniture, elegantly arranged dried plants in over-sized urns and decorating, financial and sports magazines. I wasn’t interested in reading a magazine. All I could do was stare at the wall in front of me.
On that wall, there were three large, ornately framed, sepia-toned black and white photos of the construction of the building. The building started out as a Catholic Hospital, in 1892. The photos showed a grouping of nuns standing on the second floor, looking down as the building was blessed by an officiant from the Catholic Church. There were cars – probably Model Ts – parked on the street in front of the new construction. The photos showed workers in tattered clothes, nuns in their robes, and the Priest in vestments. The contrast was both ordinary and striking. It was a glimpse of life on this day, in a small town in the west. In that day, the hospital was a welcomed addition to this town. Continue reading →
22
Jun 10
When The Path Is Overgrown
I am the stream. I am the stream. I am the stream.
Yeah.
Whatever.
There are a few more rapids in the stream today.
I do believe in the stream. I am the stream. But, today I needed a little help getting around a humongous boulder. Continue reading →
21
Jun 10
I Am The Stream
I thought about posting the most damning quotes from the emails received from Mark in the last few days. I thought I might even write about how Mark is telling Will that while every boy needs a mom, they don’t need a mom who poisons them with the hate they feel for that boy’s dad. I thought I’d even post entire copies of those emails. (Trust me. They far exceed the 1000 word limit that a lot of bloggers prefer.) I thought of posting his criticisms and defending myself. His writings further prove his disorder, so it certainly would be more fodder for this blog.
And when I pictured myself typing those things, I saw battery acid oozing out of my finger tips. The acid flowed over the keyboard and cemented the keys, so that I could no longer type.
I can’t type that negative stuff.
I can’t give more life to his hateful words.
It was the night before Father’s Day, when Will read Mark’s recent email out loud. The kids didn’t cry. They didn’t pace the floor and exclaim that they don’t understand how their dad could write such things. They didn’t beg to sleep in my bed because they were so hurt or bruised by Mark’s words. Continue reading →
14
Jun 10
From the Sidelines to the Stands
I spent some time on the sidelines. I was too close to the game, and couldn’t see the action well. I moved to the stands. I can see the game better, and it’s a lot more comfy here, too. It’s best that I’m further from the action. They can’t hear me when I fail at keeping my mouth shut. I’m sitting on one of those cushions with the attached back. There’s no one sitting in front of me, so my feet are up. I’ve got popcorn and an icy cold beer.
My kids are suiting up for another run at this ‘game’ at grandma’s. Last night, Jenny slept with me again. She’s dreading today and couldn’t get to sleep because she can’t quit thinking about how her dad just doesn’t see her. This morning, Will said, “I am done with these visits. I just feel beat down.”
I’m picturing my kids suited up for a football game. We’ve only recently gotten into watching football. There hasn’t been a dad around to spend Sundays watching the games, so we don’t really know how the game is played. Will certainly knows more than Jen and I do. But he still doesn’t understand penalties and downs and all that stuff. They are begrudgingly putting on their shoulder pads and helmets. After a few encouraging shouts from the stands, they will drag their butts up the hill to grandma’s house.
I tried the coaching bit for eleven years. Perhaps I’d have done a better job if I’d known more how the game was played. It seems the other team (Mark) keeps changing the rules. Each time my kids were tackled, I’d rush out to the field, help them up and encourage them to get back in the game. It took me quite awhile before I realized that Mark kept changing the rules. I was encouraging the kids to play fair. After each tackle, it became harder and harder to talk them into going back in for what they knew would be another hit. I hoped they’d be able to play better as they got older. At this point, they pretty much hate the game altogether. They don’t even want to be near the stadium, let alone on the field.
Now, with my mom as coach, it’ll be interesting to see how the rest of the game plays. Initially, Jen and Will were cautiously optimistic. This new coach did a better job of getting them psyched before the game. She was a lot more enthusiastic about the potential outcome. She really believed we could win this thing, and her spunk was contagious. The three of us were ready for a new coach because we were sick and tired and bruised from losing every stinkin’ game. Continue reading →
2
Jun 10
Pros and Cons
I’m lousy at identifying trees. My neighbor has a ginormous – Maple? Green Ash? – tree in his front yard that creates the loveliest umbrella over our driveway. On a hot summer day (please let us have a few this year) there isn’t a better place to stand than on the shady cool cement of the driveway, with a dripping popsicle, under the dense lacy shade of that tree.
As we drive down our street, with a carload of groceries, a bike and a set of golf clubs, we can see that amazing tree from the first turn. It anchors the end of our block, marks our sanctuary, and protects us from the elements.
With the slightest breeze, that tree drops a bunch of twigs, leaves and tree bits all over the driveway.
I sweep the driveway, and the stuff is there again the next morning.
And I sweep, again, knowing that I could do this job every day and it will need to be done each day after that. Continue reading →
31
May 10
homekeeping 5
I did it. Saturday night I dropped some plates. I’m not proud of myself, but there it is. Actually, I didn’t so much drop them as fling them against the wall. Only two of ’em. I can’t glue them back together. I will carry on with the four remaining plates.
Here’s the non-venting version of where we are. Kids are scheduled for a visit with the counselor on Wednesday. Mark is not scheduled for more visits. Mark doesn’t see why the kids need to see the counselor. He thought last week’s visits went well. He doesn’t understand why Jenny has her heart broken by the fact that Will got a landslide of goodies from Mark. We found the ideal bike for Jen. I talked to Mark and told him that Jen fell in love with a bike, “She said you are buying her a bike, can she please have this bike?” Mark said, “That’s not the bike I’m getting for Jen. I have selected a different bike. I will be buying the bike that I select, not the bike that Jen wants.”
First plate thrown.
Mark said, “You mean to tell me that Jen won’t talk to me because I won’t buy her the bike she wants? The visits went well last week. Let me talk to her. Why won’t she talk to me? Will won’t talk to me, either? Why won’t they talk to me? That’s it. I’m calling my lawyer.”
I should have said, “Go for it Mark. I’m sure you retained the one lawyer on the planet that will be capable of making your kids like you.” Continue reading →
29
May 10
Venting Prevents Action
“What do I have to do to be good enough so dad will love me?” “How come I have such a bad dad?” “My life won’t be good without a good dad.” And to that I said, “Honey, do I have a bad life? How am I doing? I have a pretty darned good life, don’t I?” And through alligator tears Jenny said, “It’s just not fair. When are you going to get us a real dad?” I wanted to say, “Well it’s not like I can put a post on Craig’s List saying, “Need one great dad for two amazing little people. Must like listening, Barbies, joke telling, card trick teaching, golfing, fishing, bow hunting, skiing and relating. Don’t need husband. Narcissists need not apply.”
And so we continue this bizarre odyssey of trying to navigate a relationship with a guy who is completely clueless about how to relate to his kids.
Mark purchased a new set of golf clubs, new hiking boots, and is shopping for new running shoes for Will. Nice, right? He took Jenny to get a pair of earrings, and said, “Some day I’ll have to get you a bike.” Then he turned to me and said, “Does she need new shoes?” He was standing right next to Jen, but he didn’t ask her that question. Jen looked at me and said, “Mom, I don’t have any good running around shoes.” But he didn’t hear her. He wasn’t listening for an answer to the question he’d asked.
Instead of relating to or listening to his beautiful kids, he buys them things. This isn’t a new thing for divorced couples. But most divorced adults might be cognizant enough to realize that the gift buying should approach fairness, to some degree.
Now, of course, Jen thinks that Mark loves Will more. Will is crying because he feels bad for his sister. Continue reading →
27
May 10
Beauty Through the Act of Loving
Yesterday’s post was about beauty and insecurity and denying who I am. It was a difficult post to write. I’m not even sure where it came from. Getting that necklace in the mail was akin to jamming a stick of dynamite in a dam that I didn’t even know existed. Feelings, emotions and tears started flowing, and they weren’t going to stop. Apparently, they haven’t stopped yet. I’m not done with the topic, and I’m convinced that this flood is sending me further down the path that I’m supposed to be on. The tidal wave of emotions is pushing me faster, and I’m not afraid. In fact, I can’t wait to see how far it takes me. This is another exercise in authenticity and speaking truth. Both of those expressions are over-used. But if we set out in search of those things, with integrity, the pursuit of authenticity and truth gets us closer to who we are meant to be.
warning: I took a challenge to write 2500 words today. I’ve never struggled with coming up with the words. I usually cut myself off in an effort to make my post more manageable (less tiresome). This will be LONG. Get a cup of tea, a glass of wine, or a milkshake, or skip it all together and haunt one of your favorite, less wordy sites.
So in response to my ‘beauty’ post, I got some warm, loving, complimentary comments from dear friends and dear family. I didn’t want it to appear that I was writing that post to fish for compliments. I guess I’m a better fisherwoman (why isn’t fisherwoman in spellcheck?) than I thought. (I can cast a fly line pretty well, but I never catch much. I can put a worm on a hook, but I’m usually busy sipping my beer, and I don’t see the tug on the pole.) The comments were extraordinarily nice, and they made me very uncomfortable, just as any kind of compliment has always made me uncomfortable.
And as I was responding to my intelligent, beautiful cousin this morning the pistons in my still sleepy brain fired and I was hit by another thought.
(‘Beautiful’ and ‘intelligent’ are descriptors for all the women who commented on my post yesterday. Thanks Mom, Donna, Lucy, Kate and Jessica. I’m sure these apply to Jessica, even though I don’t know her well. Yet. Just as they apply to all the women that I am proud to know.) Continue reading →
26
May 10
Beauty
Nothing makes a woman more beautiful than the belief that she is beautiful.
Sophia Loren
23
May 10
Fear and the Holding Pattern
“Will the rest of your party be joining you?” “It’s too bad your dad couldn’t come with on your vacation.” “Father couldn’t join the family on the cruise?” “Shall I wait until the rest of the family gets here?” To the last comment, I politely smiled and said, “This is the entire family.” I started to wonder if the cruise ship passed through some sort of Mexican Riviera version of the Bermuda Triangle and dropped us right in the middle of 1950.
I didn’t realize our little family was viewed as being that unconventional. But I started looking around at the other passengers, and I’m pretty sure that I was the only single mom traveling with kids – make that, the only single parent. There were plenty of singles, but none with kids.
So while I was sitting by the pool on the “Mariner of the Seas” cruise ship, watching my kids splash in the pool, being served my afternoon T & T, I thought to myself, “Why aren’t more single parents cruising?”
Cruises provide a great return for your vacation dollar. (Ick. I sound like a commercial.) They offer fun, entertainment and an opportunity to relax and meet new people. And, in my limited experience, they are the BEST WAY to vacation as a single parent. I didn’t have to drive or plan or cook or entertain or decide or do anything but put them on the boat.
Then I realized that single parents (moms) aren’t cruising because of fear. Hell, single moms probably aren’t even vacationing because of fear. What else are single moms (or single parents) keeping their families from doing because of fear? Continue reading →
19
May 10
The Flow Has A Plan
When I tuck Will in at night, he wants to know how many pages he should read before he turns out the light. He wants to know the plan for the next day. He wants to know if he will be allowed a cup of coffee. He wants to know what we’ll be doing for learning work, if he’ll have time to golf, and what we’ll be having for dinner. (I should clarify that he doesn’t need any kind of approval from me on all these things – pages read, golf time. But some things like coffee and dinner and learning work, he does need to hear from me.) When I tuck Jenny in, she is busily putting jammies on her Barbies and barely makes eye contact long enough to say goodnight.
On a spectrum that has “Go with the flow” on one end, and “Make a plan” on the other, my kids anchor the two ends, and I float some where in the middle.
None of our positions is perfect. But it is my continual pursuit of harmony in the home that makes me try to get us all to live together while acknowledging where we are on that spectrum. We often remind Will that sometimes the best things happen when you ‘play it by ear’. And we are often working with Jenny on her time management. If left to her own devices, she’d never make an appointment on time because she gets wrapped up in a project and can’t drag herself away.
When planning this cruise, I checked into all the different excursions. The ages of the kids bumped us out of most of them. I figured this was our first cruise together and we would get the feel for how things work, and not make specific plans for the port days. The night before Cabo, Will wanted to know what to expect. I told him we would get up, have breakfast, play mini golf and ping pong, shop for a souvenir, have lunch and get off the boat and explore Cabo. I left the ‘explore Cabo’ part wide open on purpose. That was enough of a plan to let him relax and let the day unfold. It wasn’t so much of a plan to make Jenny feel rushed or like she couldn’t just hang. And anyway, I didn’t have the foggiest idea of what we might do in Cabo.
The morning we pulled into Cabo San Lucas was warm and sunny and full of promise. Will needed to know what that promise would be. Jenny didn’t care so long as it was going to be fun. It was up to me to present an option that would please all parties. Continue reading →
18
May 10
Vacation Zen
We are home with new freckles on our noses, brown shoulders, sand in our backpacks, some handmade Mexican necklaces that we’ll probably never wear, a new t-shirt for Will, three new stuffed animal buddies for Jen, some nice pictures and a much-needed attitude adjustment. I saw plenty of people squeezing ginormous sombreros into the overhead compartment on the plane. Instead, I came home with a stack of plates on my head.
Not really.
But yesterday morning, after my first night’s sleep in my own bed, I realized that I was afraid to open my eyes. I was afraid that if I woke up in my bed, in my house, in my town, that all the relaxation, calm, and peace from vacation would seep right out the open windows. I just knew that if I kept my eyes tightly closed that I could hang on to that vacation zen. But my desperate attempts at hanging on to the zen were, in fact, messing with the zen. I needed to find a way to ease back into ‘normal’ life while keeping the calm and the peace.
So I visualized walking through my day with a whole, uncooked egg in my pocket. That would require that I not be rushing, that I not get flustered, that I approach everything gently and deliberately.
And then I visualized the smashed egg in my pocket. Continue reading →
