Rabbit Food

While husband is away, with my blog I shall play.

So HE is gone to a football game tonight. I am sitting here chomping on what HE calls rabbit food, a large assortment of mixed greens and veggies. A salad. And it tastes delectable. I think it's because HE is not here to call it rabbit food.

Or another peeve of mine- when he says "horseshit" in his most southern drawl. Hey honey, need I remind you that you are not from the south? I don't know how the hell it works but when we were dating he was stationed in Mississippi for a few months, and when he came home next he was talking with an accent that he mysteriously picked up out of nowhere. Now he swears that he always talked like that but I knew him before and after that trip and it's just not the case. So big fat horseshit to that. There's an actual diagnosis for this. I saw a story on TV the other day about a woman who was in a coma and when she came to, she spoke with a British accent. A medical mystery. Do you think if people want to pick up an accent that it's humanly possible to pick it up from being around it long enough? What if they listen to country music and visit Mississippi? I don't get it.

As far as this divorce thing goes, we are really easing into the whole process. I want us to spend a couple weeks apart and just see how it goes. Will I miss him? Can I do things on my own? I sat the boys down tonight and explained to them that Mommy and Daddy aren't getting along very well lately and that we are going to try living in different houses for a short time to see if we get along better. Ya know, KISS (Keep It Simple Stupid.) We will only tell them age-appropriate answers when they ask. I thought I was all prepared when I walked into their room and asked them to come sit down with me. I mean, if I can move out on my own and get a job and take care of them, then this small talk should be a breeze right?

Wrong! As soon as I pulled them to me and started to explain, my oldest son started covering his eyes. He's the emotional one of the bunch so I knew that meant he had tears a'brewin. Before I'd even told them about living apart, he was crying. So don't tell me kids can't sense what is going on around them. Don't try to tell me that they are too young, too preoccupied, or too oblivious to pick right up on stray emotion. Even C.J. has been more clingy lately. Leave it up to children to catch you off guard. But I sat with them until Wes was bored and wanted to go watch Teen Titans and Tyler turned off the fountain. He still really hasn't said what exactly caused his tears. But I told him he can cry anytime he wants to, because Mommy and Daddy do it too. We all do sometimes.

I finished my rabbit food. I'm glad I chose a salad for dinner tonight. My health is one less thing I need to be worrying about in the grander scheme of things. And before bedtime...who knows...maybe when the husband comes home we can share some baby carrots and peanut butter before dozing off in awkward silence.

Numb

God I love to write, in all its forms. Ok well maybe not dissertations or eulogies. But in this here and now, my blog is beneficial to getting feelings out into the open. I find myself writing one after another whether they will be "saved as draft" or published for all to see.

I have been talking about divorce lately, in my own life, though not in my relationship. Well I can't pretend any longer that part of the reason my parent's divorce has come to front again is because it has come up in my own relationship. Here is a little history on that relationship. We are highschool sweethearts. Married 7 years but have known eachother 10. We've been through his 4 years of USMC, long-distance relationship, 3 children, anger management, and even his other failed marriage (that's a whole nother story on its own.) This will have to be the shortened version as I am positive that no one wants the gruesome details, but be aware that I am trying my best to be circumspect!

While we are one of those couples known to threaten divorce, all times before this are moot because I could never go through with it. We actually made it to the lawyer's office once. The lawyer asked "So are you sure you want this?" At which I was prompted to look over at my husband- the man who I've seen cry very seldom, like at his graduation. His Grandparents raised him and passed away before they could see him graduate. I understood. He's tough. He doesn't show his emotions as freely as I. When I look over at him, there is a single tear running down his cheek and he looks back directly at me and says "No, I don't want this." Followed by a stream of more tears. Ok so it pulled my heartstrings. We left. No divorce that day. Whatever it was that pushed me to that point we overcame it.

Until this weekend on my Seattle trip. Hooray for fricking realizations, huh? I missed my boys, and not my husband. In fact, while there when I received cell calls, I found myself slightly annoyed when it showed ~Home~ on the caller ID. Relieved when he just wanted to let the boys say goodnight.

I knew that over time I have been slowly numbing myself to him. He can be a very angry and negative person. Sure not so bad lately but we've been together 7 years. Slowly, agonizingly, gratingly it has worn down on my usual jovial self. I have gained two new identities since I met him. Wife and Mother. But I've lost track of me. I know we are both allowed some change. I expected it even. But who could have possibly known that meant losing myself?

That brings me to today. Right now I feel that I make a good mother, but I haven't been a good wife. I'm surprised that all this time, he nor I noticed the slight depression I've been in. I've been doing the Mom things just to get by but my marriage has fallen to the wayside. So you might ask, why not go to the Doc and ask about depression? I am a minimalist when it comes to medicine and so I don't really want to add happy drugs here because I feel my own actions and thoughts should be figured out on my own first if at all possible. He has cried and kept us up until the wee hours of the morning tossing and turning but it's different for me this time. I am numb. I can't cry. I guess I've cried my share of tears of the 7 years we've been married. While I am staying right here until I figure out what step to take next, it all comes down to- I just want to feel again...

Looking Back

I haven't thought very highly of my Mother as of late, so I thought I'd write about the good things I remember from my childhood. I was blessed with the childhood I had. I will never, ever be able to call her out on that.

Ate shortening
And Mom would sing the song
"Momma's little baby loves
Shortenin', shortenin'
Momma's little baby
Loves shortening bread."

Then it was simple.
Like cookie dough,
Trips to the park to sunbathe,
And Creedence Clearwater Revival
Resounding between fake wood panels
In our station wagon.

Mom would twist her shadowy black hair
On the back of her head,
Adorn catty shades,
And sing along, when the mood was right.

If it wasn't you would know because
She'd take up your middle name.
That's how ya knew you were
Really in for it.

Ate shortening,
Raw eggs,
(What Mom didn't let her kids
eat cookies dough?)
Sunbathed without sunblock,
Listened to CCR...

And today I'm a Mom
No salmonella,
No skin cancer,
And I listen to alternative.
But I'll be damned
If I let my kids
Chew straight lard.

~*~*~*~*~*~

When I was a young
Light-haired
Go-lucky
Little girl

I'd run
Skitter-skatter
Down the trail
That winded its way
To gnarled driftwood

A particular piece
Arched triumphantly
Over the shoreline
A castle for
The new baby frogs
That marched
Over stubborn
Blades of grass

I'd kneel under
The fallen soldier
Of the forest
And here I was
Mommy's princess

For this is the place
She reigned
When she
Made forts too

~*~*~*~*~*~

Ode to Staying Together

ie. my poems about divorce, there is no ode, I must be delusional.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

How long have I been on the outside?
So long
That you cannot take me back in?

These years idealized by
A girl, a boy, a dog
A two-story house
A paycheck every two weeks
And a coffee pot that
Brews instantly.

Hard work, harder life at home
Dealing with daily differences
And conservatively avoiding
Matters of the heart.

These are my slippers,
And this is my leather recliner.
I like our undersized peach bath towels
The puffy curtains
And the way you wake up earlier than me
Every morning to start the coffee.

But this place I can't call home
Without you here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Take the insecurities
Pack up the lies
The tears
The pain

Box the wasted years
Mementos and memories
Extra duct tape
To rot in the shed

No need to wrap
Your brute of a heart
Sure it won't
Get shattered in the shuffle

I've no need for negativity
Just don't forget
The two little packages
You're leaving with me

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Forethought: My Mom would never dress up and go out with my Dad. So this is what I thought when her new lover invited her out to a formal.


For one it's dazzle and dress
While the other cries in distress

Sequins and beads
Heart on the sleeve

Crystal slippers on tiny feet
Heart stomped on in defeat

Sweet victory
And still none at all

Cinderella,
Go have your ball

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sludge built up
On the lines of communication
Aggravation
Ignorance
With a smidgen of bliss on the side

What was painfully draped over
Has become a plain indemnity
Feel free
To come and go as you please
Just don't leave wounds agape

Sad and sorry
No excuse
To walk the line of limbo
Clutch some lame vision
Of happily ever after
Alongside a man wet behind the ears

When all this bursts your seams
And you look away
Because it's too tender and torturesome
To put the blade
Into your own heart

Admit your ignorance
With little to no bliss on the side

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm afraid
I have gone the mental route
Wiped out
What was happening here and now
And replaced it with self-doubt

I'm not who I am
You must understand
There's another man
Who has made me see
What you no longer do for me

I despise
The look in your eyes
That doesn't seem to set me free
Transfixed too long
Salty tears erupt- and patience is gone

And I'm gone too
Though my body can go on
Without me
It's been a long time coming
This whole lie- no longer numbing

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bitter

Since my parent's Mom-initiated divorce, my Dad and I have become closer. We say "I love you" when we part ways or hang up the phone. It's easy for me to walk up to him and give him a big ol' hug when I'm feeling down and it picks me back up again. He calls just to check in. It wasn't always this way. Maybe it was my awkward teenage years but I had trouble showing emotion around my parents, both of them. Until I became a parent myself it was hard to fathom why they set such boundaries and stuck to them at all costs. Now that I have my own children, I can relate to limits and rules and unconditional love. I understand sleepless nights and lover's plights. I know that marriage is something you have to work at or inevitably it can become a comfort zone where two people cohabitate together in their unhappiness because it's too disconcerting to shatter the peace. That's what my Mom and Dad did. She stewed in her own sorrows too long before she just burst at the seams, overcooked. She was for all respect of the word, pretending she was happy.

But now she and I are the ones having trouble communicating. It's actually worse now than when she was married. I cannot tell her "I love you" when I get off the phone. Nor do I go out of my way to call her. Since her new lover came into the picture (before the marriage was dissolved) she's withdrawn from family social events. She has not done anything with her grandchildren by her own accord for years. I have to ask her to watch them and I feel like a burden when I do so. That's what hurts the most I think, her not being involved with the boys. My best friend's mother does not get to see her own grandkids because her son married and divorced a spiteful bitch who denies access to them. Yet she still longs day in and day out for her relationship with her grandkids like it used to be before divorce froze the family ties. At least she wants to see them. My mother doesn't even hint at it.

So Mom, I don't love you (or at least I can't tell you that I do) because you don't invite it. You don't make the effort to see your grandkids, fine but remember they will be here long after I am gone. You made your pretend bed, now lie in it, on your pretend fluffy pink pillows, in a pretend flannel nightgown and pretend that your sweet dreams are really just that, sweet because there is nothing more surreal to me now than dreams.

Dang Yin Yang

Here's the little explanation I pulled off the net before I give my theory:

In general, the Yin Yang symbol is a Chinese representation of the entire celestial phenomenon. It contains the cycle of Sun, four seasons, 24-Segment Chi, the foundation of the I-Ching and the Chinese calendar.

By rotating the Sun chart and positioning the Winter Solstice at the bottom, it will look like this . The light color area which indicates more sunlight is called Yang (Sun). The dark color area has less sunlight (more moonlight) and is called Yin (Moon). Yang is like man. Yin is like woman. Yang wouldn't grow without Yin. Yin couldn't give birth without Yang. Yin is born (begins) at Summer Solstice and Yang is born (begins) at Winter Solstice. Therefore one little circle Yin is marked on the Summer Solstice position. Another little circle Yang is marked on the Winter Solstice position. These two little circles look like two fish eyes.

And here's my take on it. In life we seek out balance. This is why opposites often attract. My husband and I are opposites in many ways. We balance eachother. Where I am weak, he is strong. When he is reactive, I am calm. He is refractory and I show patience. He is good with directions and numbers, and I am lost. I have book sense and he has common sense. I prefer freedom and he, responsibility of course. But there is one place in our lives that we cannot balance, and it is not for lack of trying.

It is positivity and negativity. I look for the silver lining. My glass is half-full and something good comes of each mistake. When one door shuts a window opens. You get the picture. But with him the littlest things can get the best of him. His glass is half-empty and damnit look at that it's not clean either. To teach the kids not to yell, he yells. He has learned to expect the worst so when it doesn't happen he feels pleasantly surprised.

I can in no way force him to think positively. It is an outlook on life that develops from every experience. It's shaped by our parents, our teachers, the books we read. Whether our first love went well or smashed our heart to pieces. It's in rejection hugely. It's in friendship and commitment. How much you are willing to sacrifice to get something. How our heart has handled all these things like sickness and death but also hope and bringing children into the world. Even small things can make me happy like coffee and freshly-washed babies' hair. A check in the mail or an e-mail from a close friend. Those can erase even HUGE negatives for me. But he can't for a second impose me into a negativity. I just won't do it!

Day in and day out I must try my damndest to continue to look on the bright side of things while my husband brings up that the pipe under the sink is leaking or that the AC stopped working again. Or that he needs some white socks. "Of course you do" I say as I fill the washer. And it really wears on me. He must find happiness in something and draw on it. I find myself telling him often that "Things really aren't so bad, look what we DO have."

I am convinced that Yin and Yang represent all things in balance except positivity and negativity because they were not made to coexist. They cannot live happily side by side pretending that it does not matter. One will wear and grate on the other until a general state of uneasiness occurs. It is then one will be forced to take more drastic measures to rid itself of the other.

Time Away Mommies?

This one is for the cute little Mommas! Think back to when the last time you had a genuine break away from the house and kids and family. Mine was of course this weekend in Seattle, but it was a struggle pretty much from the start to convince DH that he could handle three boys for the whole weekend on top of trusting me while I was away, and maybe even not so much trusting me but trusting that some random guys weren't going to hit on me and I'd be too unsuspecting to see their conniving ways. I just wanted some time to shop and try on clothes without children poking eachother in the dressing room. Time to eat my food before it gets cold! A moment to get into deep convo with my best friend before hearing "I'm hungry!" or "He just ate something off the floor!" I really had to stand up for myself to get this. But at times I felt guilty or just plain wrong that I wasn't doing the motherly, responsible thing by just staying home and dealing. Did I take the easy way out? You bet your buns I didn't! I got a shload of CARP but I went and enjoyed myself to the best of my enjoying ability.

I guess I'm just looking for some feedback here. I feel like there are some mixed feelings floating around amongst my family. Behind my back even. I can't understand why I feel like I left without their blessing. Isn't it "If Momma ain't happy, ain't no one happy?" Maybe I need some insight into the other side of this...

Blah ze Blog

I have to say I don't feel a year older. When the big day rolls around every year at least one person seems to ask "So what's it feel like to be a year older?" Well I feel nothing good ha ha. I mean really what's the leap from 25 to 26 anyway? It's the birthday where I decided that I'm no longer going to brag to my cousin about being a month older than he. Now I tease him, "You're not that far behind." It's the birthday where 30 slowly starts to feel not all that far away. Like if I use my trusty binoculars of life on this joyous cruise, suddenly 30 has appeared there, the "hill" like some ominous beacon looming in the distance and I'm damned if I don't jump ship now cuz I'm headed straight for it.

So how does one celebrate that? Well Friday- the day of my actual birthday- I got my hair done. There is nothing like a new haircut to perk things up a bit. It's not just above shoulder length, all dark brown, and choppy cut around the bottom. I can do lots with my new style. I've never had many options with my straight hair. I've had many compliments on it which always does the soul good. I had lunch with the family, and then spaghetti dinner with the extended fam. Then it was off to Seattle to visit my best friend and do some clothes shopping. And of course fine dining which was no help when I had just decided to perk things up a bit. There is no perk in overeating. Remind me not to eat like that again for a long time! (Ok, just until next visit!) Did I mention it was Bite of Seattle? A food festival? Talk about temptation but I don't think I did too bad. Thank you to my DH for holding down the fort with the boys while I had my much appreciated me-time! And thank you to my best friend for showing me a good time, again...I don't know what I'd do without that girl!

The Lady Makes Me Laugh

I took my Grandma out last night. She's a widow and she can't drive anymore so we took our night on the town by stopping at the local coffee shop and hitting Target. She and I share the same taste for fine coffee drinks and can't go by the place without stopping. And we go all-out, whipped cream, coconut flakes, usually not decaf. But tonight since it was so late we both went decaf. Or so we thought. I was up until about 2am pondering if it was for sure decaf in my drink or if it was just the sugar and caffeine in the chocolate?

Here we are laughing hysterically and having a ball (that's how she would describe it) all the time griping about men of now and then. Seriously I shouldn't get her started. It's scary how much my husband and my departed Grandfather have in common, the good and the bad. The way her white hair dances on her head like cotton in a windstorm gives her animation.

She keeps telling me the story of how she was on a cruise with my Grandpa when they found out a sweet, chubby little baby girl had entered their world. The ship had docked so the passengers could explore the town and they called home to see if there was any news and there was! My Grandma said everyone in the town and on that ship likely heard her yelling "It's a girl!" because like myself she has 3 boys. One of her sons gave her her first Grandson, but when I came she got "her girl." I can picture her hair then, not so white but mousy brown like my own done up is some big bouffant waving back and forth as she jumps and waves her arms at the news.

I went to bed amped. Whether it was the drink or just a raucous night with Grams, I hope that I'm not the only Granddaughter out there doing this with her Grandma. I'm not sitting by her side seeking out the lost arts of knitting or quilting. We just chat it up, drink good coffee and share stories that sometimes intertwine and overlap and can be eerily familiar. You'll find me chauffeuring her to the Goodwill or toting our best Bingo dobbers to the local parlor. It doesn't really matter what we're doing. It's the fact that of all her Grandkids now, I'm the only one that does this with her. We have this bond. We both have can't-sit-still-itis. Again, maybe just the coffee ha ha. BUT I know that I won't ever be regretful for not spending enough time with her and not making the most out of every minute when I'm with her.

Little Victories

So I'm coming to enjoy the little victories for what they are and not get my hopes up for more, (though if more comes my way I'm willing to make accomodations!) Tonight was soccer, and God love it wouldn't you know that it's like 100 degrees out today. The boys' YMCA games were actually cancelled due to heat and fear of thunderstorms. Nice combo I know. But us women still play rain or shine. The sun wasn't out but it was still hot and humid. That's a change as normally it's hard to breathe because the heat sucks every little droplet of moisture from your body then continues to nag it.

So there's this one chic who is always telling me where to stand, who to cover, what to do next. I know in my heart she's just trying to help but sometimes it seems she's nagging because she's not doing it to anyone else on the team. Tonight I got my chance. The other team was short so I volunteered to go play on their side. And I was defense to her forward position. I took the ball from her numerous times, blocked her shots and plain got in her freaking way. There was no way I was letting her get the best of me. She was getting upset I could tell and she kept telling me "Stay outta my way Shelly!" making it look to everybody else like she was kidding. But at the end I got my little victory. The team I played for won by 1 but that isn't even what made my night. She complimented me with "Good defense Shelly." I was walking on air.

And I have one other victory I feel like sharing tonight too. It's been 9 mos. since my parent's divorce. My Dad came and watched me play tonight. He's been coming to my games nearly every week. But this night was different because as we were leaving he said "Happy Birthday tomorrow honey. I love you." And we hugged...it wasn't the least bit uncomfortable. We never had that before. My Dad and I are closer now and we can tell eachother "I love you" like it's no thing. But it is to me. Two little victories in one night? Huge!

My Life "To Do" List

Yes I did it. I succumbed to the pressure to make a list of things I want to do before I die. I know how relieved I feel when I cross something off a list, whether it's chores or grocery shopping or something as trifling or cheesy as things I'd like to try sometime. I'm allowed a rough-draft. I limited myself to 25 but reserve the right to add or subtract- as I enter my mid-life crisis maybe? There's no grand prize if I finish all of them. Accomplishing these tasks is not some magic key to eternal gratification. I do figure though, that the more I look at them, the more impact they will have on me. I can look back and think at 25, I was married 7 years, done having children at 3 rambunctious boys, living in a little white house, Soccer Mom, driving a mini-van (or a Honda in which I'm usually alone and can crank up the tunes and open the sun roof) and let it all hang out because these days it sure wants to... These were the things I wanted to do in life, in all their simplicity and/or glory ha ha.

So without further adieu;
1. Swim with dolphins
2. Deep sea fishing
3. Write a children's book
4. Have one of my poems published
5. Visit Ireland/the castles
6. Get a tattoo representing my sons
7. Design my own kitchen
8. Pan for gold
9. Invent something and sell it
10. Go on Oprah or The Price is Right
11. Watch the USA Women's soccer team play in person
12. Drastically change my hairstyle
13. Crochet a blanket
14. Find something cool with a metal detector
15. Make all my Christmas gifts one year
16. Get it all waxed
17. Get a cabin or beach house with my friends for a week, no kids!
18. Spend time seeing Montana with my husband
19. Paint a picture to display in my home
20. Learn to make rolls and Spudnuts just like Grandma
21. Own and drive a brand new Honda
22. Get a second degree
23. Score a goal outdoors with my women's soccer team
24. Be there when my each of my boys become fathers
25. Be a Grandma as wonderful as my own

The White

What defines my life right now is "The White." It's a feeling that I have grasped onto and I now call my own.

The White

Was many years to The White.
Each moment became memory.
Stolen from me
Like the moon takes
The beauty of the morning glories.
Discovering lies and truths
Between the sheets
And hanging on
To high school memories.

But when it happened
I realized I'd been there before
Deja vu.
Shedding blood - entering womanhood
Dating - rushed into marriage
Walking down the aisle- more white!
Being followed by a runaway baby carriage.

And I'm content until silvery tears,
Grass stains and scraped knees
Fill me up.
These days I can't separate
The White...From Me.

~Shelly