My Name is Mommy

Books and things.

I'm not a collector of many things.  My mom is a collector.  She has, at different times in her life, decided to collect things.  Baskets, pitchers, dolls, dogs, knick-knacks, pocelain bears. You name it, she collects it.  As a result, I am not a knick-nack person.  You will find almost no knick-knack anywhere in my house.  People who buy me cutsey little collectible stuff or little signs with painted quotations and polka-dots... well, they should know that after a perfunctory display period, their gift is relegated to the box-o-guilt in the attic(only for gifts from people I deem most special and therefore cannot seperate from said knickety-knackety thing) or, most likely, on the next truck to St. Paul- St. Vincent de Paul that is.

There are two things I have amassed in my time- books and photos.  I have a crapload of photography equipment from when I worked as a photographer full-time but I never *collected* stuff- as in, I do not have 4 Rolleis that don't actually work.  Every piece of equipment serves an individual and necessary purpose in the photographic process.  So, having clarified that I am not a collector, I have to say, if you are going to collect something- maybe baskets are a good idea since they are a hell of a lot lighter than books.

The other day I looked at Dean and said, "I am going to get rid of all my books and buy a Kindle".  Dean looked at me, alarmed. "What are you going to do with all these books?" I can see him visibly calculating the tens of thousands of dollars of hardcover books in our house(I only buy hardbacks and I have *thousands*).  I then see him consider the additional expense of the Kindle and loading it up with enough material to keep me happy forever. 

Of course, it will never happen.  If I got rid of my books, I'd just buy new ones I suppose.  When I was a kid, my parents wholeheartedly supported my reading addiction but my habit was enormous so they couldn't even keep up.  One Christmas they bought me a hundred dollars worth of books and I read through those like they were magazines.  At one point I was raiding my mom's coat pockets and searching the couch cushions, hoarding lunch money and bumming food off friends so I could go to the bookstore across the street from my bus stop and buy a book after school every day.  That's right, I was stealing from my mom's coat pockets to buy books. *gasp*  I even spent my bus money sometimes- then I would cut out pieces of yellow paper and try to make like it was a bus ticket.  One time the bus driver yelled at me and told me I was "going to have to pay the piper" if I was going to ride te bus.  I had to get sneakier after that and I started paying in small coins so e couldn't tell how much I put it.  That was after spending my weekly allowance and any birthday or holiday money, babysitting money (when I was a bit older) or extra chore money on books.  It was never enough.  I could not read enough books to escape my life.  When I was 6, 7, 8 and 9 I was having nightmares every night and reading myself to sleep on my closet floor(I had a walk-in closet with a light) because I was scared to fall asleep and have the nightmares... books were always my escape.  Books were a good and comforting thing.  Some people had parents that loved them and kept them safe, I had books.

Anyhow, when I got out of college and finally had the space to hoard books and the money to buy 'real' books, oh, it felt so luxurious and decadent.  If I wanted a book, I could have it.  In some part of my mind, that is when I became adequately successful.  Because really, no matter how rough life gets, as long as I have books, I can get through it. Or, uh, at least escape from it. 

There is just something about a book, though- holding in your hands, the font on the pages.  I love old books and have dozens of beautiful cloth-bound editions of classics.  I about died with happiness when I found a set of Thomas Hardy books in the most beautiful binding at Mel's in Berkeley. Ahhhh.  Nothing like a beautiful, purple cloth bound copy of Jude the Obscure printed on thick, creamy white paper. Yum.

Oh, I guess I do collect one other thing... lingerie. Heh.  But, that is a whole other post. 

Love.

Okay, tell me that is NOT the cutest little face you have ever seen in your life?  Chocolate is such a little love.  I can hardly stand it.

Today is shaping up to be a good day already.  Some stuff came through at work that I've been waiting on and it's nice to have that off my plate.  The sun is shining but it is supposed to be cooling off... doesn't look like it's going to cool off!  Last night we slept with the windows open.

Vi slept with us last night, so it was all four of us and I woke up this morning in a pile of little girl arms and legs and I felt so cozy and comfy, I didn't want to dare move and disturb anything.  But of course, we have to get up and on with our day.

Ave is very excited because she has her first music lesson today.  We'll see how it goes.  The girl is just amazingly talented- I've been playing a playlist with about 8 sings on it for the past few days and she can already sing most of them acapella and right on when we don't have the music turned on.

More later- I have work to do and a test to study for...  I'll leave you with this image of Chocolate settling into bed with me(yes, my thigh really is that ginormous and no, it isn't just the bad camera angle. heh):

China.

When Dean and I got married, we did what every couple does- stand in the middle of Macy's and argue about what kind of china we were going to register for.  Okay, not really.  Dean sat on a chair sighing heavily while I debated what type of china to register for. 

I was encouraged to register for expensive china as it would be my chance to get what I really wanted- being fresh out of college and relatively poor, etc.. But I felt guilty registering for china that would only be used periodically and sticking it to my wedding guests.  So I went with an oh-so-practical choice.  However, I regret that now.  I think I would rather have registered for the Lenox china I really wanted and not gotten any at all.  I do have a complete set of a very nice, utilitarian set- it is white bone china from Noritake with a white lattice pattern around the edge and a gold rim.  Very plain, elegant, will never go out of style. 

But here is the deal.  When I was a kid- I loved Thanksgiving at Grandma's house.  I loved setting the table(my job) with her china.  It was probably some inexpensive stuff that gave us all a touch of lead poisoning but it had beautiful pink cherry blossoms and green vines.  I can see the pattern in  my head as clear as day.  In my child's mind, they were princess plates- fit for royalty and absolutely beautiful.  I associated those plates with the closeness of family- all of us gathered around a makeshift table since Grandma's only had one leaf to seat 8 and there were 10 or 12 always.  But she put on a table, did she ever.  Crystal and a crisp white table cloth, hand knit lace in the center with some crazy floral arrangement she did herself that was amazing.  My grandmother, for her blue collar roots, had class in her little finger to compare with some manhattan penthouse matriarch. 

I wish I'd gone crazy and gotten some china that my girls would look at and say "Ooo, this is soooo beautiful!"  I know I cannot recreate the past for them, but for me- that sticks out.  Makes me want to splurge and buy a full set of a crazy Versace china pattern and then eat on it every day.  Yeah, maybe that is what I'll do.  And I want it in blue.  And it's going to have flowers on it. Roses, even.

Life is too short not to use the good china.

Turning.

What a fantastic weekend.  I took a break from the horses.  Liz was out of town anyway and it just isn't the same without Liz. 

Today was great, though.  Viola had a birthday party so we all went to Target to shop for a birthday present and also to pick out some warm weather clothes for the girls.  I will order more online for them but we needed some stat since today was HOT.  Long sleeves aren't cutting it anymore and my girls are hot-blooded anyway- they are always taking clothes off.  Definitely a selling point to future husands but not so good in the middle of public places on warm days.  We dropped Vi at her pool party and then went to pick up a friend for Ave to take to the club and we spent the afternoon at the pool which was fabulous.  I ran into another of the moms from the Montessori School- she is quite fab and we had good conversation and all our girls played together for a couple of hours.  It made me realize that as Dean and I have drifted, we've also let our social life drift as well- and maybe that has alot to do with having had kids and also being relativey young for popping a couple of kids out.  Whatever the reason, it amounts to more isolation heaped on an already lonely situation.  So, it was good to see that today and realize that can be changed, and easily. 

As for Dean and I- we talked, we chatted, we laughed.  Definitely more connected than we have been in a long time.  We read this whole section from the Gottman book the other day on 'bids'- basically the way we ask other people for attention and affection.  There are all these stats like "men headed for divorce ignore their wives bids 80-something percent of the time" but basically it boils down to- it helps to pay attention to each other and turn toward each other instead of away from one another.  I think now we are oth paying attention.  We'll see if it helps.  I *feel* better- in fact, I feel like a huge weight has lifted from me.  I don;t know if it is real or just me letting my optimism run wild.  What I do know is that today was a happy day and the girls were happy and I was happy and Dean looked happy, too.  Can't beat that.  Even if things were a bit mundane, that's how you know, when just being together doing whatever feels good.

It wasn't a miracle- things aren't all better but they are different, and I'll take that any day over just continuing on in the same fashion.   I have to say, too, my hunny looks good in his swim trunks.  Okay, so he's not crazy like he was when I was in college and he spent all his time in the gym but man, compared to the other dads at the pool, I am one lucky mommy. :)

Okay, must go rescue Chocolate- he's having a standoff with Missy the cat who outweighs him by a good ten pounds and she has a mighty claw.

Now what?

Soccer is over.  We had our post-game sundaes.  The girls went to Lake Elizabeth with Kendyl.  Dean and I sat on the couch for a while and talked.  He told me about a nightmare he had last night which made me laugh really hard- partly because it involved my parent's house being really messy(which you know has to be a nightmare) and some bad chicken soup.

No fun at all.  But funny.  I laughed a good laugh.

I have to say- I'm disappointed in Liz.  I was looking forward to her moblogging from the horse show in Paso. Weh.

I am sunburned.

One of the girls didn't show up for soccer and it was her treat day and of course they didn't even give me a call so I had to scramble to get treats together.  Today of all days because it was a scorcher and we had no subs so all my girls played the whole game.

Now I am procrastinating putting together the mammoth ikea entertainment center that is in three giant boxes across two of our couches. Ugh. Do I have to? Wah.

No more time for blogging.  Time for a little ikea marital therapy.  See ya at the courthouse.

Eat it or wear it.

Chocolate and Chip... they are currently fighting over two bowls containing like amounts of the exact same food.  Each is trying to protect both bowls which are about 5 feet apart.  They keep meeting in the middle to wrestle a little, switch bowls, eat, growl and repeat.  Kinda funny to watch.

So, everyone was in bed at 10:30 last night.  I took soccer practice last night because Dean was at his appointment and then picked up Ave.  The girls, in the short time I have been gone - caring for Ave when she was sick- the girls have run rampant over Coach Dean and have become exceedingly undisciplined.  Not cool.  I had them running and did alot of whistle-blowing last night.  Was kinda funny but 8 year old girls are no joke- gotta keep on your toes.

Dean kept his appointment and I'm really hopeful that this doctor is going to help him. It will be a weight off all of us if he can make even a slight difference.  Kept to the no computers/no tv rule last night.  Honestly, even if we aren't 100% on that, some change will make a huge difference.  Dean spends a vast amount of time on the computer- whether it is working or procrastinating- it means he is not interacting with us.  Since I don't watch much tv- I end up spending alot of time with the girls, online and reading or studying- but most often it is by myself.  I think, too, that being neglected became so painful at one point that I just checked myself out, too. 

It isn't just the neglect.  If I'm being honest, I chose to become disconnected from Dean and the girls.  I can tell you right now when it happened, too... it happened when I found out about Avery's health issues.  That's when I really started backpeddaling and shoving space between me and my girls.  That fear that I'd managed to calm and quiet enough that I've had since they were born- came rushing back.  And there was no one to share it with, no one to help me through it.  I feel like I blew an emotional circuit and no one has replaced the fuse- until now. I realize some of it may be a little irrational, maybe a side-effect of some hyperactive part of my brain that makes me worry and obssess more than the average Jane.  All I can say is that I've recognized it and I'm trying to light the circuit up again.  I have also, this week, finally acknowledged I can not be an island, entire of itself.  I won't be.  I'm done.  I want all the circuits lit up, I don't want to be insulated from everything that really matters to me and I can't do it alone.  So, I need Dean to be there for me or I need him to step aside so I can find someone who will.

Do you remember reading Tales of a 4th Grade Nothing? Or maybe Superfudge? Eat it or wear it?  There was a big power struggle over getting the kid to eat his food that ended up with him getting a bowl of cereal poured over his head.  You can make someone do something- but you can't make them want to do it.  Simple as that- you can't always tell when someone is doing something because they want to or their hand is forced, but I think it comes out eventually.

Some interesting statistics on marriage counselling.  This comes from John Gottman's The Marriage Clinic: a Scientifically Based Marital Therapy- he states that marital therapy correlates strongly with divorce and is a reliable vehicle toward divorce. Wow. Maybe.  He also states that in the best studies only 11-18% of couples show long-term gains from marital therapy.  35% of couples make immediate gains, experience effective change as a result of therapy but within ONE YEAR 30-50% of those experience relapse.  Gottman also says that these studies come out of University studies where there are fairly high standards as to who is treating people.  Out in the Real World, there are far less rigid standards for those working with people so one might expect an even lower rate of success.  I guess one comforting thing then would be to say that if you have a good counselor, you're probably going to have better results.  Gottman appears to have a good reputation and is also a mathemetician and has tried to bring science to the world of marital therapy. 

Dean and I went to marriage counseling when Vi was 18 months old or so.  We found it to be helpful at the time and I think I definitely took some tools away from the experience.  Did we make long-term gains?  Well, I think we resolved some of the troubles that took us there intially but we've since changed and developed new issues- if that makes sense.  Something to ponder.

Okay, so what am I doing here? Well, everyone is sleeping... but okay, I'm off to do some laundry and get some housework out of he way before it is time for Vi's soccer game and whatever other excitement lies ahead today.

Subtle luxury.

What is it about 'subtle' that really says expensive?

I'm just warning you now: this post is going to be totally superficial and lame.

I have this long hoodie/sweater that is cashmere.  I love it- it is robin's egg blue and I wear it all the time.  I wear it so much, in fact, I was thinking about getting another one or a back-up because it seems like whenever I find something I like, well it gets discontinued or something.  It's a conspiracy, really.  Well, got this at Nordstrom on a clearance rack.  Usually I'm not mongering for expensive fabrics but this fit well and was only $40 on sale so, whatever.

So I go looking for the brand online.  I find it here: Subtletones It is, of course, a boutique in Newport Beach - a "fashion-forward" Designer Boutique.  Yes, the one where my $40 hoodie originated from and where I can purchase another identical one for only $308(after tax) + shipping.

Crap.  The thing is, I love that sweater almost enough to pay that much.  Almost.  But not quite. :P  I hate it when things I like are expensive.  On the other hand, I got a kickass deal on my sweater.

Me in my $300 hoodie- I am quite "fashion-forward", no?  Marg, sporting the same color in a J Jill seperate and future Out of the Blue Farms coowner, pictured here also.

 

One day at a time.

Last night Dean remained sick and in bed.  He's feverish.  I brought him chicken soup yesterday afternoon and he couldn't even eat much of that.  I'm going to write a book called the Influenza Diet- make millions! Heh. 

Vi had a diarama due for school today, so she spent last evening working on that.  I went to "Mother's Night" at Ave's school and she showed me her "works"- clothes washing(washing rags out on an old-fashioned washboard), the farm(a parts of speech exercise "the pink pig" etc.), math beads, the snake game(another math bead exercise).  It's their chance to show us what they do at school since much of what they do is atypical for a 'regular' preschool. After that, we came home and decided to go to Ikea. 

I am dead-set on getting this house organized and things functioning smoothly so we have more time to dedicate toward fun stuff rather than spending time trying to find stuff gone missing in the whole remodel debacle.  To that end, I have a vision for the family room- a place for the kids to watch movies and play games but also a place for them to store all their art supplies and have a table with an area to do art and projects.  I want space to work on things with them and to do my own projects as well.  Here enters Ikea to provide us some very heavy furniture which will, aside from causing us back pain, give us lots of storage options.  Also got a very cute blue table for the girls to work at- it is perfect!

So, we'll really see how our marriage is doing.  Nothing like four thousand pieces of particle board that need to be put together with a wrench to test the marital waters, eh?  The bunk beds almost ruined us, so...

No, but really, I am excited to get things squared away and start having more good times around here.  I am going to rip the girl's closet apart and put in one of those closet organizing systems, as well.  Both my kids are like me, their whole day can get off to a bad start if they feel rushed and disorganized. 

Ave and I had a great time at Ikea.  She went down the slide in the kids section a million times.  We ate cookies.  We picked out some cute little things for the girls room- love the light up flowers that go on the walls.    When we got to the hard part- loading the 500 lbs boxes of stuff onto the cart, she pushed the regular cart which she couldn't even see over.  That was hilarious, too, because those Ikea carts don't go straight.  Anyhow, Ave was quite the little helper.  Of course, the evening ended with me in the parking lot by myself trying to load those boxes at 9pm.  Somehow, I managed and Ave and I were on our way- eating chocolate cookies and singing along to the music in the car.

Today I took the girls to school and we brought Chip with us.  He was quite the crowd-pleaser.  Vi was so proud to show off her pup.  Chip was very well-behaved and took it all in stride.

Dean goes to his appointment this afternoon... I may be going with.  I'm excited and a little apprehensive to hear what the doctor has to say.  Hopefully, hopefully, he can give Dean something to help him. *fingers crossed*

 

How green is my valley...

Dean is sick as a dog.  He's running a fever.  He looks like hell, shivering under the covers in bed even after eating a ton of advil.  This flu is evil, whatever it is.  The girls didn't have it so bad.

I was working on a project for work last night so I got home a bit late but I brought dinner- thai food.  Dean downed some ibuprofen and soldiered through dinner.  We had our talk with the girls.  We talked about reapecting our home and ourselves.  We told them that if we got the house straightened up, with their help, they could have friends over whenever they want, sleepovers every weekend if they like.  If they would pay more attention to picking up their things and taking care of them, doing what they need to in the mornings, there would be alot more time for board games and bike rides and fun stuff together.  Dean and I agreed, no computers on while the girls are at home.  We're also going to get them on a sleep schedule so that Dean and I can have some time together at night(the girls, not the computers).

Not only were the girls excited, they had a really good night last night and everyone was bathed, in bed and sleeping before 10:30 which is akin to a miracle in our house.  After the girls went to bed, I stayed up and ironed a hem into my new ikea drapes and hung them.  They are bee-yoo-ti-ful!  Very dramatic with the blue velvet framing white sheers with an opaque swirly pattern on them.  I was very happy to get those up- we have an enormous picture window in the living room and I feel terribly exposed when it isn't covered.  Probably because we are all a bunch of nudie-booties and run around half naked... but anyway, glad to have that done and nice that it turned out so well.

We had a great morning this morning, too.  Vi had a field trip today to the San Francisco symphony.  They are taking BART!  She's going to love it.  She and Ave were both ready to go 15 minutes ahead of schedule and we were out the door with absolutely no anxiety for anyone- that has NEVER happened before.

Big plan.  One step at a time.  Dean has his appointment with the doctor tomorrow to be evaluated for ADD. But last night, at dinner, oh, he was fabulous.  For the first time in a long, long time I feel really good about things.  I am excited to see where this all goes.

And my roses are blooming- they are just absolutely exploding with blossoms.

If your daily life seems poor, do not blame it; blame yourself that you are not poet enough to call forth its riches...

--Rainer Maria Rilke

Yippy Chippy!

I'm so excited! Chip is coming home for a visit! Liz is going away for the weekend and so we are dogsitting the little guy.  Chocolate and Chip, soon to be reunited... I'm so excited! I'll have two puppies to sleep on me tonight.

Pictures to come.

The beginning.

I thought that things were over but apparently we have come to the beginning again.  It feels right, it feels good, so I am going with it.

When Dean came with me to the counselor, I was shocked to find myself feeling something I hadn't felt in a long time- hope.  It was there suddenly in a space that had been closed and empty, a spare room in the back of my heart somewhere.  And it was there before I could close the door and keep it out.  I had already tied things up neatly.  I was sure I was done.  Then suddenly I wasn't.

Dean and I talked today.  Today was different.  It wasn't just me talking this time. 

I drew the line today.  I said, "I am going to die."  I am- I don't know if I will die physically, but spiritually? emotionally?  I said that he needed to either commit or we needed to go our seperate ways.  I said that it wasn't enough to "try".  This is it, the two of us.  When we come to an obstacle we have to help each other over because there is no one else.  Then Dean said, "Or die trying".  And that was it, some moment of recognition between us.  No, it isn't that we've reached a fork in the road and we're choosing one way over another.  I simply cannot go on the way we have been.  Every day will be a new negotiation, every day we'll have to choose again.  Dean said today, "We've never been committed like this before, have we?" No, we haven't, but I think it is about time.

Tonight, we're telling the girls that a new era has begun in our house.  There will be no more television and computers where we can each go to hide and check out.  We need to get our home in order so we can enjoy each other and let love grow up between us all.  If we want to be a family we have to start acting like a family- all of us together.

So, we'll see.  I know I can keep my end of the bargain.  I know Dean can, too, if he wants to.  It might not be what he wants.  If that is the case then we will have to go our seperate ways- but we will do it lovingly because we know there is something better for each of us that we couldn't find with each other.  First, we see if we can find it.

Dear Ave,

I feel like I didn't do you justice this year for your birthday.  I didn't write my usual tribute to what a wonder you've been in my life and how much you've added to this little family of ours.  It's been a difficult year for me and while in some ways I hope that you don't have times like this in your life, part of me also knows that as much as we grow by laughter and shared experience, we also grow by being tried and having difficulty.  But of course, I am your mama and I want only good things for you. 

I could tell you what a beautiful little girl you are- how smart and sweet you are.  I could tell you how you have so many friends and everyone flocks to you because you have such a sweet, spirited nature.  You are fun and funny and not a day goes by that you don't make us all laugh, sometimes until we cry.  Of course you are amazing and talented and wonderful.  We all know that and you wear it easily.

I tell you that things have been hard because I want you to know that it's okay for things to be difficult sometimes because then they will get easy again.  Life is like that, the pendulum swings back and forth- happy, sad, easy, difficult.  The night before last, you came to me crying because Vi had shown you a sad show "The Little Match Girl".  You buried your face in my shoulder and sobbed.  You couldn't believe that everyone had passed that little girl by and she had frozen to death.  What you couldn't know is that when I was little, I did the same thing over the exact same story.  You kept asking me "Why did Vi have to show that to me?".  Your world has been opened a little wider, it hurts and you are sad- you wish that you could unknow that somewhere in the world people, like you, litle girls like yourself, suffer and die while people walk on by and ignore them.  And how could that happen?

So now a seed has been planted in you.  I hope someday you will seek out suffering and alleviate it or at least, at the very least- see it, don't walk blindly by.  I am so proud that already you have such caring and empathy in you, though part of me knows that this is a blessing and a curse of sorts and will follow you even when you do not want it to.  But I hope that it will motivate you to do great things someday, things to help people.  I also know that it is just you, a part of your essence and I hope that I can nurture and protect you enough that the piece of you that sobs for suffering and injustice will not become buried.

I want so badly for you to be able to take the hurts you experience in life and rally through them and put them to use.  Use them to fuel the fight in you to make the world a better place.  You've made my world a much better place already.  You do it everyday.  I love you for the laughter and light and music(can we please get off the Little Mermaid Soundtrack- I know it appeals to your dramatic sensibilities but please... ) but I also love you for your fight and spirit.  You inspire me, little girl.  You make me want to be a better person- somehow that doesn't seem right, seems that should be something I give you but I suppose it is what it is.  I can't wait to see what you have in store for the world.

I love you,

Mommy

I want to be with those who know secret things or else alone.

-Rainer Maria Rilke 

A ride in the park.

Sunday.  Time flew this week.  Don't know what's happening to me but the days are racing by.  I'm very excited right now, so much so that I am beaming with happiness despite the fact that the entire family is sick and in bed except for me. Sundays are always the best days.

Had our Sunday ride today.  Just Shawn, Liz and me which was fantastic.  Foxy was really acting up, but hard to say if she was being 'bad', being 'young' or just excited to get out on the trail.  Apollo was pretty ho hum except for a couple times when Foxy spooked, he spooked.  We tied up the horses at the end of the trail and went to Wente for lunch since we were alone.  I had risotto which was okay.  I love walking in there with all the fancy people in my boots and breeches, covered with hair, a bridle over my shoulder.  Yep, that's me, just rode up on my horse and stopped in for some lunch.  Helps that Shawn knows the manager and can get us a table.  The ride back was relatively uneventful- beautiful crisp day.  Summer is almost here but there is a tiny bit of green hanging on.  For some reason the purple flowers really stood out today.  I hope they last a while.  I'm not ready for everything to be all dead and brown yet.

Our boys are so good- they stood amongst the trees and waited quite patiently for us to return fom our lunch.  Foxy, on the other hand, she once again tried to dig her way through to China.  She not even three yet, so the fact she's even out riding so well on the trails already is a testament to how brilliant she is, how great Shawn has been at training her and how fabulous I was to come up with the idea of breeding Cosette to Foxglen Himself to get me a little Irish Draught sporthorse.  She is fabulous.  I think at least three people told Shawn how good looking she was along the trail today!

Then it was back to the real world.  I had to go pick up my wall shelf from JC Penney.  I ordered it through the catalog- a giant rack to hold and display all my cookbooks.  If I can find them.  Last I saw they were in a box in the garage... like everything else.

Now I am sitting here with Chocolate on my lap.  He missed me.  He was right there, waiting for me when I opened the door and wagged his tail so hard his butt flew all over the place.  Oh, should we all have someone so glad to see us come home.

Not a creature was stirring...

Except Mommy who was updating her blog.

Aw, Chocolate looks so cute right now I could just eat him.  Such a good dog and I sort of wonder how I would have made it through the past couple months without him.

I'm sleepy and random and a bit on the pointless side.  I decided I didn't like the hardware on out cherry kitchen cabinets.  It was too bright, too shiny - too loud.  I had been trying to echo the hardware on the white cabinets without using the same exact hardware.  It just wasn't working for me.  So I went out and bought my four favorite pulls- whatever color and style- I just had to like them.  I started out with this brushed nickel, very subdued, lacy looking bar pull.  And that was the one... was just perfect.  Goes with my cabinets and goes with me.  It is amazing.  So, there you have it.  Actually, it is a little amazing how different the kitchen looks and all.

Today started out with a call from the District Attorney's office looking for my just-moved-to-Tx sister because they want people who can testify against the drunk driver who hit her car out in front of our house several months back.

Busy work day.

A little bit of a rough one on the relationship front.  Dean and I exchanged some e-mail.  He as trouble with e-mail now apparently.  Got a little bit out of him- basically he said he didn't miss stuff when he wasn't doing it- i.e. riding horses, having sex, being with me.  I get that.  I mean, I am that way about alot of things.  I LOVE to ice skate.  But I don't miss it when it's gone from my life- just don't.  When I do go skating, I say... "Hmm, I should do this more".  So I told Dean I thought that meant he just hadn't found anything he truly loved or was truly passionate about.  I love horses and riding.  I dreamed all the time about riding while I was pregnant.  And I would never stop missing my kids, no matter how long apart from them I was.  I don't know.  That was a rough one for me to hear and say.  We talked alot about initiative and how he likes for me to start things, handle the administrative crap that no one likes while he takes over the fun part- and not in a cooperative way, in a "I'm the star" kinda way. 

He suggested that maybe we don't have much of a relationship beyond the perfunctory day-to-day stuff.  I guess we'll have to examine that further.  He did suggest that maybe we could be better off in other relationships. Uh. Hmm.

Men just have to come up with everything themselves.

How's that for a broad stroke of prejudice?

Maybe we should have stuck with kitchen cabinets:

Before & After

Riding big.

  I so did not want to get out of bed yesterday morning to go riding.  I was about to convince myself I was a little too under the weather, it was too hot, etc. etc.  But, my breeches were right there and the sun was shining and there was really no excuse... Vi had spent the night at a friend's house and Dean and Ave were still asleep in the bed with me.  I decided against a shower and just brushed my hair and washed my face.

Don't worry, I put lipstick on before Apollo saw me.

Anyhow, listened to my Brett Dennen cd on the drive out.  It was fantastic- put my sunglasses on, opened the sunroof- a beautiful sunny day.  And it only got better from there on out.

Got to the ranch just as Shawn was pulling his trailer in.  One of the guys on the ride, Shawn's current 16-year-old apprentice wannabe-cowboy, tried to catch Power(Liz's horse) but Power was having nothing to do with that business.  Mike's mom, Sue, was also along for the ride and another Sue who has a horse in training with Shawn and her daughter maybe?  Or just some random chick.   You can tell I'm alert and attentive.  Geez.  Anyhow, we had a huge group - we really had to squish Power into the back of the trailer.  Last guy in...

We rode at Sycamore Grove and it was just amazing.  It always is, but there is still a little bit of green out there and all the flowers are blooming and it was hot enough to feel like we were at the height of summer.  We went through the water three times and the last time was across this almost-dry creek bed- but there was a large pool of water just to the side of the crossing.  I pointed Apollo into the water and gave him his head... He nearly took us for a swim.  He was in as deep as his chest and I was pulling my boots up to keep from getting my feet soaked.

At one point during the ride we came to a spot where the trail to the right said "no horses" and the trail to the left said "no horses" and so Shawn led us cross-country.  It was quite fun for me because Foxy was still acting a little unsure of herself and didn't want to push through some of the thicker brush so Apollo and I got to be trailblazers.  I mean, we always are- we just don't always get to show it off.  It was incredibly beautiful getting off the beaten track, going amongst the trees and tall grass that was littered with purple and yellow flowers.  Liz pointed out we're not going to have green much longer so we're trying to appreciate it while we can...

  I'm pressing ahead with the horse business.  I'm going to start teaching lessons again but eventually, I want my own facility.  I want to raise babies.  I want to help people heal themselves and their lives through the horses.  Mostly, I want to have fun and bring other people along for the ride.  I want to have a full, beautiful life and when the ride is over, I want to know that the moments strung together create a tale of love and laughter and connection with others.  I want to know that I rode it the best I could, even the spooks at 30 mph, just have to stay in the saddle and keep the energy going forward.

Had to share this- as we were bushwhacking our way through the park, Foxy manage to get a huge twig(maybe a small branch?) stuck in her tail.  This is me an Apollo trying to get it out.  For some reason, Apollo didn't want to have anything to do with pulling the stick out of Foxy's... tail.  Liz was kind enough to try and capture the moment- thanks for all the great pics girl!

Inspiration

Ahh. Margaret gave me a great idea.  I've been complaining about how I am drawn to mirrors and clocks and pretty much nothing else in terms of wanting to decorate all my freshly painted walls.  Margaret suggested I have a fave quote stenciled on the wall.  I think I will do one better and have the words made up of metal.  Now if I can find a place that does that sorta thing...

Burning in the fire or caught in the quagmire?

It is interesting to ask people what they fear.  Some people take the question quite literally and instead of answering "pain", they answer "burning in a fire" or instead of answering "things I don't know or understand" they answer "snakes" or "spiders".  Some people leap right to the heart of it.  "I fear being alone." "I fear hatred". "I fear failure". 

Me? I'm afraid of losing the people I love.  It has always been so.  I don't know if it was being abandoned by my father as an infant or being emotionally disconnected from my mother at an early age, losing my beloved grandfather when I was seven, in the middle of other horrendous things happening in the dark corners of my childhood.  I have always feared loss.  I think that fear is one of the worst to have because it makes it very difficult to love and trust... after all, that is what enables the possibility of my worst fear coming true.

But sometimes I am not afraid of anything because I am fully engaged in the moment.  There is no 'what if' or 'tomorrow' to worry about- there is just right now.  It isn't a bad place to be.

Good things happened today.  It was hotter than h*** out and so I told the girls to conserve their energy at the soccer game today.  We only had one sub and the last thing I want is one of the girls stroking out.  The other coach, however, hollered and yelled and was quite the entertainment.  I have a very competitive spirit.  But, still, it is U8 instructional soccer.  I think Viola got really frustrated today.  She's a good player- fast, has good footwork and is also strong- never gives ground.  I think next year, I am going to let her try out for a comp team- even if it means I have to get qualified to coach a comp team(ugh).  That way, she can be with players of her same skill level.  But the girls listened to me and they played smart.  They also thought it was hilarious when I ran out onto the field with a bottle of water and dumped water over their heads and down their backs to cool them off.  I kind of enjoyed it, too :).  Anyhow, good stuff- love my little soccer team.

Status Report including tmi!!

This week has been crazy.  Work is kicking into high gear- well, I am kicking into high gear at work, at least.  That always feels good, even if I don't actually do anything that matters much in the grand scheme of things.  My manager and I seem to have reached a new understanding and we're working together much better which has me far more motivated than I've been in a long time.  Work is also a fine escape from the sea of treachery in which I am floating.  No, but really, the work thing has been very positive and I'm working on some exciting stuff.

I started classes again.  Interesting.  Let's just say it is going to be a very interesting quarter.  More to come on that later.  Joolie: you will not be disappointed with the commentary coming from the women's studies class I'm in.  Stay tuned!

A couple of weeks ago, I got this harebrained idea that my iud needed to come out.  My skin has been horrible, I've been bloated and lethargic for what feels like months now.  I got it into my head that it was the iud.  So, you know me, ignoring the possibility that the iud had become imbedded in my uterus and pulling it out could cause me to bleed profusely and die, I did some bizarre contortions and pulled the little sucker out.  My skin has gotten marginally better but it could also be from the antibiotics Andrea scripted me.  In the meantime, I seem to recall why I went with the iud- aside from the whole wanting to get it on without a condom and not wanting to have to remember to take a pill every day.  I had my first period in four years and my god, I thought I was going to bleed to death.  No, seriously, we're talking a tampon AND a pad an hour for like four days straight and now I'm continuing the bleed but at a more measured pace.  Hopefully I won't bleed to death before I get in to the gynecologist on the 28th which was the eariest they could see me.  With my other bleeding issues, I cannot deal with this, as well.  So, for now, back to the IUD.  I am going to ask about Lybrel or one of the other birth control pills that stop you from having a period altogether, but we'll see what they say.  If I do get the iud put back in, I am going to ask for a low-dose estrogen patch to manage the side effects, hopefully.  What WAS I thinking?  I guess I was thinking I was tired of dealing with major acne when I've NEVER had bad skin in my life, except a couple brief bouts early in my pregnancies.  It's just not fair. 

Oh, hey, it's our 9th anniversary today...!  Um, yeah.  So the good thing is that Dean and I went to counseling together yesterday and he got a referral to a psychiatrist for ADD.  The counselor also talked about a 'coach' for Dean so that some of the management and responsibilities that have fallen to me for so long could be taken care of by him.  With the help of this coach, Dean could do some of the things he should be doing as a partner and I might start to feel less resentment and, well, less exhausted and drained and done.  Dean and I basically made a deal that if he went to the psychiatrist and did what they told him to do, got some help, that I would hang in a little longer and see where things went.

The thing is... I've found another guy- one that is always glad to see me, one that protects me, loves the food I feed him(never asks for ketchup), is always ready to snuggle or play, gives good kisses and is great in bed(well, he never pees, poops, leaves hair,  dirt or fleas behind).

Ah, my little Chocolate.  Seriously, everyone should have a dog.  Not just any dog, a dog that is their dog.  A dog that when he comes in the house, races to you- straight to you, with his tail wagging and whole body quivering with excitement to see YOU.

Anyhow, I wasn't feeling well last night and so we didn't do anything for our anniversary.  It's a little odd to be celebrating that when things are so odd and tenuous right now, anyway.

We have had movement, though.  Yesterday, we went to counseling together and Dean got a referral to be evaluated for ADD.  I don't think there is a magic cure, but what if...?  Our counselor felt that if he could be less distracted he could be more help, less responsibility would fall to me and our whole dynamic could change.  Maybe I am stupid to hope, but there it is.  Sometimes you just keep coming back for more- but you know, how could I not? 

So how's that for a little TMI?

A letter to a friend.

Dear --,

It has been a long, hard road.  But would you have had it any different?  The road has brought us here to this spot.  Stop a moment and look around and ask yourself where you are, truly?  I mean, take away the house you live in, the car you drive, take away the clothes you wear and the face you turn outward to the world every day.  Peel that all away and ask yourself where you are. 

The most painful moments of my life have been the ones that define me the most.  Birthing my children was mentally, physically and spiritually the most difficult process I have endured and yet it has given me an entire identity that I never knew before, shaped me in ways I never thought I could be bent or twisted.  When my grandmother, who raised the good parts of me died, I wanted to die, too.  Loss, change, death- oh, they hurt.  They wrench us from the warm blanket of comfort that we wrap ourselves in over time and toss us out into the ice that cuts us like glass.  We break, we bleed, we heal, we scar.  But then we are different.

How can I impart to you that it is because you have an amazing soul that you are unhappy still?  Do you know what a gift it is to have such empathy that your sorrow cannot be placated with trinkets and baubles?  You say that you wish you could cut yourself off from the world and then, in your little corner of isolation you would find peace and happiness- at last.  But I don't believe that.  I believe you would be hiding from what you know is there. 

I am not sure who told you that you weren't meant for greatness, because I know you are.  I knew you were the minute I looked you in the eye and saw you in there.  The real you, I saw.  I did.  I may be one of the few lucky ones that ever do, but I see what you could be.  It won't come to you.  I know some will tell you otherwise but I believe in my heart that it is what is difficult that is the thing that should be done.  You know that there are people who are easy to be with, people who make you feel more like yourself- like your wild, precious, strong self.  Those are the people to cling to because they will help you do the things that are difficult that will enrich you, that will extract the real you from this construct you have built to keep yourself safe in this hard world.

I'm here, and there are others.  Above all, you have yourself-- never underestimate the value of that resource.  Don't be done until you draw your last breath, and when you do, be sad, along with the rest of the world, that you do not have more to draw- live that life because it is the one meant for you.  I've seen it in you. 

I love you,

A.

Puppies, slides and life's sweet ride.

Today is a gorgeous day.  Today would be a day where I went and curled up in a lounge chair outside and read a book, occasionally stopping to throw the big, slobber-covered purple ball for Sammy or take a sip of my black-tea-lemonade while watching the finches chatter and argue over at the feeder.

But alas, I'm working today, so here I sit watching the puppies out by the back fence brawling in the sunshine.  I occasionally look out my window at the sky which is mercilessly blue today. 

I have to say, sometimes I am convinced I have the best job in the world.  Yeah, there is some crappy stuff tied to it that I don't enjoy doing but so it is with every job.  And many a day I get to sit here at my little workspace and when there is a lull, I work on "shake" and "roll over" with the pups.  Boo has sit and shake down pat but Chocolate, he's the star- he knows sit, shake, roll over, down and up.  Dance puppy, dance! Muahaha!  It used to be that working from home was always being on the edge of chaos because the girls were alway here- but now with both of them in school it is quiet except for the clacking of Mommy's keyboard and the patter of puppy feet and the occasional ruckus of me saving(or not) one of the girls' stuffed animals from the jaws of death.  It is always hilarious to see a puppy carrying proudly a stuffed bear twice it's own size down the hallway like some kind of crazy front loader.  The pups are so different, too.  Chocolate will bound straight to me and make flying leap at my chair until I catch him up and snuggle him down in my lap.  If I pick Boo up, he will tolerate a very little neck scritching until he starts wriggling wildly but he will end up snuggled around my feet under the table after he has sniffed the whole scene out and found every last morsel of anything to eat.  I hardly have to vacuum anymore. 

Chocolate sits and looks up at me when I am on a call.  He tilts his head in the way that puppies do- as if curious, intrigued.  He has no sense for business beyond eating and sleeping and playing.  He has no idea what it has done to me that he chewed up two pairs of my shoes and the handle off my computer bag.  I think maybe he's here to remind me that to someone in the world, all these oh-so-important trappings are merely chew toys.  Chocolate makes no distinction between Cole Haan and Michael Kors.  He and I both agree that leather is definitely better than synthetic.

When they renovated the park down the block, they got rid of the world's best slide ever.  It was one of those old-style metal slides, the kind that will blister that backs of your thighs if you dare to go down it in the heat of summer in shorts. It was a good seven or eight feet high with little-to-no handrails and absolutely unsafe.  Whew, it was a steep, straight shot to the bottom that would leave you breathless and laughing.  In it's place is a much better, much safer, plastic-y play structure.  It looks good, lots of bright colors and a slide with a twist to it.  Could be fun!? Naw, you can never get any good speed up on the plastic and just end up with a good case of static buzz.  The kids don't know the difference so much and after all, now they're safe.  It astonishes me to think my kids will never lie with their head at the edge of the merry-go-round toy, with their hair sweeping through the sand, the world spinning by, upside down.  Those are gone, too, at least I haven't seen one in ages.  But, as in all things these days, if it is shiny and pretty and looks good-- and safe, then it must be great.  Now if only we didn't have to cross any streets to get to the park- THAT would be spectacular. 

Decorama.

The living room.  So, big, fuzzy dark, brown shag area rug came today for the living room.  Something I didn't realize before, though- somethng isn't quite right.  I think I need black or blue.  The dark brown is fine for the wood, but with the carerra marble which is white wit black and grey... the brown rug almost clashed.  Just wasn't quite right.  I don't know, I have a couple days to think about it and am going to order a blue wool rug I found to see if it goes better.

Still trying to nail down the light fixture for over one of the kitchen sinks.  I've also decided we need another light between the fridge and ovens.  I'm going to put some 'collector shelves' there to put my cookbooks on(sort of like wall mounted magazine racks but a little deeper).

Oh crap, Dean just caught me giving Chocolate bits of my steak.  He's my baaaaaaby. Just kidding.  Do have to say I am a sucker for this little guy.  He's my co-pilot.  He's very smart: knows sit, down, shake(hand/paw), up(he can stand on two legs for a while). Yep, Chocolate the circus dog.  More like spoiled, wee puppy.

Places we hide.

I know now what I do when I am upset.  I write.  Some might say this is healthy.  I'm not so sure.  After all, here I am splashing the intimate details of my life all over the internet for all to see.

Dean is getting the girls tonight so I can go to my class which is on Cognitive Processes.  You betcha.  I figure I could use a little more knowledge in that area. 

If I could describe my state right now it would be rash.  And I know you'll say- "You had such a good weekend!" and "You're so happy today."

Rash because I am realizing I have things in my closet that haven't been worn in... ages.  But they are perfectly good things and even still somewhat in style.  I want to take everything but my favorites, put them in a bag and send them away to be worn by someone, somewhere.

Rash because my anniversary is coming up and I am not sure what is expected- of me, by me.  Rash because I don't know if I can handle getting a card in the mail from Dean's parents like they send us every year which is terribly thoughtful of them.

Rash because my little sister is moving to Texas and not only do I not know what I will do without her, I want to go along and find that ranch I've been talking about.

Rash because I talked to my mom on the phone and actually had a pang of missing my mommy.

Rash because I can't tell the difference between good decisions and mistakes anymore.

Rash because I don't want to hurt, and I don't want to care.

Rash because I have an open-ended train ticket and I am afraid to get on the wrong train.

Rash because I can't control anything or anyone and I want to control it all.  And it pisses me off that I can't.  It pisses me off that I cannot have one straight week of calm and peace and thinking I can live like this- and of course I can live like this and peace and calm are merely decisions about perception yet still...!

Rash because I feel guilty and selfish for wanting more when I have so much and this should be so easy a life.  Look at it, after all:

And we have door.

Busy weekend this one.  Fantastic and busy and full of some amazing moments.  Let me begin with Friday.  Not technically weekend but whatever, I like to  bend the rules.  I come home after having lunch with a friend and picking up 12x12 marble tile for refacing the fireplace in Santa Clara, to find the  boys about to install and INTERIOR door in the gaping hole that used to be our front door.  Not only that, but they had gone back to Home Desperate and EXCHANGED said interior door because the first on they got swung the wrong way.  Thankfully, I arrived before they had started screwing the door into place and Dean and I were able to go back and exchange it again- this time for an EXTERIOR door.  See- isn't it purdy with all that glass? (I'm big on light and will always choose things with windows over other- I wanted the door that was *all* glass.  Dean felt that wasn't appropriate with my (and my girl's) penchant for nudity.

See the new closet door, too?  Cosme is going to paint all the doors white since they are merely primed.  I am tempted to paint the front door a funky color, I've always wanted a red door.  With the red, white and blue, however- might feel a little too "God Bless America".

Vi had her birthday partay this Saturday.  But first there was a soccer game.  My girls did fatastic! They rock!  I love watching Vi play.  She is super aggressive and competitive.  Now, this is not something I have readily encouraged in her- I am in the "Positive Coaching" group- you know, "Everyone's a winner... even the losers" blah blah blah.  Kidding. But really, though I encourage sportsmanship I do believe that with sports, competetive spirit is important.  Viola can kick through anyone.  I'd put my money on her over any player, anyday.  She'll just as quickly stop to help someone who has fallen down or been hurt.  Love to see Viola being so focused and on her game. Nice to see her be competitive without having her lose her consideration and compassion

After soccer it was a rush to get to the club for swimming and Vi's party. Vi just had to have a swim party(not surprising considering she is half fish).  She had a number of friends from school and soccer.

The club was great and took care of everything- the cake, the mess, the popcorn, balloons, drinks, goodie bags... Once again, however, I found myself in the strange position of being, aside from Dean, one of the only adults to go in the water.  Yes, I'm just as excited as the next person to be seen in public in a swim suit but sorry, not passing up on that fun so I can sit on a hard plastic chair all afternoon.  Of course, one mom did go in with all her clothes on when she thought her son was drowning.  A little excitement but everyone came out okay.

I can't believe Vi is eight years old already.  She is such an amazing little person.  She spent hours tonight making thank-you-cards for everyone and they are beautiful.  She is so artistic and creative.  She loves the animals more than anything and we're always arguing over who gets to sleep with or hold Chocolate.  She's been dying to take up riding.  We can have our difficult times because talk about two strong personalities coming together!  But she's also going to be out there with me- swimming in the ocean, if you know what I mean.  She is strong and brave and amazing and I love her.

We had a little slumber party last night and, well, I thought my head was going to explode.  Dean took all the girls to the park which was fantastic of him- while I ordered pizza.  One of the girls got a tummy ache at 2am and so I called her mom to come get her. Ahh, I remember those days well... it isn't a slumber party till someone barfs or goes home sick.  Viola opened all her presents.  She had a mountain of gifts from all her friends which was overly generous.  I have this intense desire to ask people to either not bring gifts or bring things like paper and pens and art supplies.  I can't stand all the plastic crap.  Ever stepped on a barbie shoe, barefoot, in the middle of the night?  Don't feel so good now does it?  No, but everyone was so generous and Viola was genuinely appreciative and amazed.  I tend to sneak gifts off to the closet to be doled out on rainy days over the next year- Vi's getting too old for that trick now.

This morning I took off to go for my Sunday ride.  Liz bailed on us.  That's okay, it was still a pretty good ride.  Did miss Liz, but we had a new horse along- Danny.  I almost bought Danny at one time.  I love his white face.  He has a cute little personality, too.

I was SO proud of my girl Foxy today.  And man, Shawn is just worth his weight in gold as a trainer-- Danny wouldn't go through a water crossing.  I kept circling him on Apollo and tried to lead him across but Danny was scared, not having anything to do with it.  After about 5 attempts, Shawn goes back, takes Foxy's lead rope off and attached it to Danny, winds it around Foxy's saddle horn and Shawn just rides her right on forward.  Danny has no choice but to go forward and so he leaps and lands with both hooves up on Foxy's rump- caught Shawn in the back.  I checked him out later, didn't break the skin but that's gonna leave bruise.  Have to say it is so awesome to see my 2 1/2 year old filly just bust right on through a situation like this as if she was the old pro.

After our ride, went back to the ranch.  I brushed Mr. Apollo, grained him and put him out to pasture. With the grain situation- I decided to make a food run.  Dean ad I got 2 bales of hay, a massive garbage can worth of all-in-one and LMF Senior.  We headed *back* out to the ranch to drop off the food...  The girls were game for a trip to the ranch and we brought Choolate for the first time.  We fed everyone, messed around and otherwise wasted the evening having a great old time...  we stopped by Liz's so Chocolate and Chip could  have a little playdate.  Dean was pretty happy to have gotten out to see his girl, Foxy... but he was also pretty happy to stop and get In&Out burgers on the way home.  I was just happy he drove so I could nap.  And dang, that's it... the weekend's over.  

Veritas vos liberabit.

Apollo is just looking too skinny for my taste and I'm getting worried enough that I think I'm going to try and get out there more- Liz has been shouldering the burden of feeding our boys but it is alot of work and it's time for me to pitch in a bit more.  It was hilarious today because I fed Power his grain over the fence and these other horses kept coming up and trying to butt in and chow down, too.  Felt kinda bad chasing them off but then again, they are all pretty fat and sassy.  Power is so cute as he moseyed over and looked at me a little unsure- sort of like "Uh, really? For me?"

Dean and I stood in front of our house today and talked.  I asked him if he'd read the blog post I wrote the other day.  He said he had and I asked him if he was mad, upset or what he was feeling.  He said it made him nostalgic.  He said, "Did we have some good times?"  I said, "Yes, absolutely."  I asked him if it helped him understand how I feel.  He said it did.  We definitely had a moment and it was a good one.  And in the end, those are what counts- the moments and how we string them together.  We kissed, we hugged- we looked at each other and saw each other.

I guess I want him to know that I want to understand him, too.  I want to know what it is he thinks will make him happy.

I want to thank everyone for their kind comments- I've talked enough about why I write here but one of the fabulous side benefits has been all the lovely friends I've made.  Do appreciate that.  At times it is easy to feel alone and isolated.  Somtimes, too, I just get so sick of the lie that this is all just so easy- that if everyone just has their right house and right car and right kids and right golden retriever that life is f-ing perfect.  Sorry.  It's a lie, folks.  Perfect life is something different and special for each and every one of us snowflakes, as unique as we are and all.  I'm still gathering the bits and pieces of what it means to me.  I do know that I sacrificed passion, laughter, excitement somewhere along the way for safety and security.  Do know that when you write to me, I listen and listen carefully because to me the best piece of information can sometimes be gleaned from the experience of others.  So thank you, I am taking notes.  And Melissa- thank you, your comment made me feel an absolute flood of warmth so here is a virtual hug headed your way. 

For the record, I don't like to think of us as puzzle pieces-- puzzle pieces are incomplete without each other.  I think some people are black tea or green tea or peach tea, some people are lemonade, some people are classic syrup.  We can be on our own but sometimes we're a bit better when we mix it up a little with each other.  If we're lucky, we find the right balance.  Me- I need lots of sweet and lots of sour but I'll pass on the bitter and the bland.

Okay, enough of this- time to go post about my fabulous weekend... I know you are dying to hear about it...

Just a note.

I'm not sure what it was but last night I felt compelled to tell the truth as I see and feel it.  But truth is like beauty and always in the eye of the beholder.  It also morphs and changes over time with the beholder.  I am sure that Dean could write a post that would shock you all at what a bad wife I've been at times. (I seem to recall jumping up and down on one of his shirts in the garage, screaming because I had just ironed it and he'd wadded it up instead of hanging it properly on a hanger- and I think it was a time after that I made the decision I was not going to be like my mom, that the house, the ironing, whatever, wasn't going to ever be more important than people).

What makes it all so difficult is that even though I write things that sound horrible when set in the written word- we all are constantly spinning trying to do our best in this life. Marg said something to me once that stuck hard: sometimes it isn't about being a good person or a bad person- it's just about being the right person.

I love my husband, I really do.  That makes it all the more complicated.  I am also scared and imperfect and unsure of what it is I really want.  At the same time, I can tell you exactly what I want.

So for now... for now I am working hard- watering my grass, fertilizing it, tending to it... because I don't want to simply seek out greener pastures then find them to go fallow as well.

Dean wrote me an e-mail once saying that he loved me and the girls- maybe not love that would get us to the moon and back but real love nonetheless.  What Dean may not understand about the woman that he married, although she may sit here at her computer rather unassumingly, is that she wants to be an astronaut. 

Okay, not really, it's  metaphor, people.  But you get my drift, right?

The truth comes out.

Welcome new readers and old.  Just a recap.  My marriage is circling the drain.  Maybe.  Sometimes I think it is, sometimes I think I need to check myself into a psychiatric hospital or at least a really nice rehab somewhere. (No, no, no)  Nine years since we took our vows barefoot in our backyard under the flowering cherry tree at our house in Seattle- well, on April 11th.  Lots of people will remember our wedding in August- but that was really just the after party, the show we put on to let the world know we'd looked into each others eyes under the late afternoon sky in April after softball practice and said that we did.

Dean and I get along great.  At least I'd characterize it that way.  He's my family and that says alot because I believe that we choose our family.  He'll always be my family and my friend.  God, and he gave me salt water the night that Wolfe tried to drink me under the table and almost killed me with those shooters he called "the brain".  Dean probably saved my life because all that salt water sure made me barf my brains out.  Don't ever try to come between me and my family, either.  My father tried to do that and I haven't spoken to him in nine years.  And yes, I'm proud of that- not because of how long I can carry a grudge but because I can exhibit a level of loyalty to those I love that borders on irrational and self-destructive.  I'm sure I've been cut from the will by now.

Dean and I, we are decent parents to our kids.  We tend to be very complemetary in many aspects- he's good at budgeting money, I'm good at making him replace his shoes and underwear before there are too many holes in them to be functional. (Hey, people pay big money for crotchless underwear but you gotta buy them that way for them to be valuable.  Of course, truth be told, people will buy anything off Ebay, right?).  We used to be crazy fun together and did all sorts of wild things.  Kate gave one of the toasts at our reception and referred to the time we herded and lured all the ducks in the fountain into the foyer of the chem building.  We used to drive my Datsun  (the dog doo car because it was a color that could not be described any other way than turd brown) up onto the campus(like on the grass and stuff) and see how long we could evade the authorities(aka the campus pork, the wanna-be-bacon-squad). 

Then there were the super-soaker adventures where we would blast some unsuspecting pedestrian or bicyclist or hoity-toity driver of a BMW through their open window with the super-soaker(and then, of course, the chase was on).  There were parties where Charlie ate all the chicken wings and nights out in limos to the Seattle Center to get a hamburger.  We took ice skating lessons together and english classes.  We had season tickets to the Seattle Opera and ate at Taco Del Mar and the indian food place where the owner knew us by name and always said hi.  We grew tomatoes in buckets then gave them away to people. 

Dean dug a maze throughout the whole yard for Bump and Harvey(the rabbits) and planted spinach for them.  Or was it for us?  When we lived across the street from my parents house, we walked down to the beach all the time, we took kickboxing at the gym where my little sis worked.  We packed up the VW van and headed out for weeks at a time.  I remember this one night when Nat said she'd seen "something that looked like one of those bugs in the glass at the souvenir shop"-- of course she was talking about a scorpion so there Dean and I were frantically dumping everything out of the tent looking for the alleged scorpion.  Funny, another night something similar- where was it? New Mexico? only it was a rattle snake...  Later we went to Europe... South America (blue footed boobies heh heh). Sun Lakes every year... Moved to Cali... used to go hiking in the Redwoods, camping, to the ocean for picnics with friends, to the boardwalk in Santa Cruz... working on our garden in the backyard together.

What the hell is my point?  It fell apart.  It unravelled somewhere along the way.  Things stopped being fun.  Maybe I stopped being fun.   

We started watching tv.  And then watching tv in different rooms.  We started annoying one another.  And then, at one point I was staying home all day with Viola and Dean came home a little tipsy on a friday night.  I nagged and nagged.  I was pissed I'd been alone all day in the house with a very dissatisfed just-toddling Vi and then started nagging the crap out of Dean which eventually led to him hitting me in the face.  After that, we went to counseling.  Dean went to anger mangement. 

It got better for a while.  I was photographing weddings.  I was teaching riding lessons and going to shows.  Dean bought me the best present ever- Apollo.  Yes, things were good.  Good enough that we snuck out of bed to have sex on the living room floor and get pregnant with Ave.  I'd always wanted 4 kids and so I couldn't have been more thrilled upon returning from a business trip, seeing that line come up in the window of the stick-o-pee.

And why did the sex stop, too, unless I was whipping that horse?  I was horny as hell when I was pregnant, I mean, I simply could not get enough.  But not Dean, no, not so much.  And while one can forgive a man not wanting a bloated, broken-out, mercurial sex-fiend with a giant belly, I have trouble forgiving the ensuing lack of interest that just went on and on.  That still goes on.  Sure, it gets better at times, but as I'm fond of saying, the river alway runs back to the bed.  The damn Victoria's Secret catalog gets more attention than I do.  Not like I can compare but at least I'm a living, breathing woman. At least I was, once.

I have something like 400,000 frequent flyer miles.  Yet we go nowhere.  We have our own ice skates but we don't skate anymore.  Sometimes we used to read books together, no more.

I'd mentioned to Dean on more than a few occasions my level of discontent.  He'd promised to read some books, try some new things, do something different.  Well, if he made changes they were imperceptible.  Finally, I got his attention (somewhat) by going outside my marriage(stepping out, having an affair, cheating).  Yep, that's right.  That's me.  And that was difficult for me- at least until I met someone that I fell in love with.  And then I realized that I had feelings for this man that I'd never had for anyone else. You can phoo phoo that all you want.  I didn't know I could feel like that. 

I didn't realize that the other half of me was walking around out there in the world or that I would meet him in a Starbucks one day and have my world, my future suddenly open up before me like a massive painting being unrolled with the most incredible, vibrant colors I'd ever seen.  If you have never known true, romantic love- passionate love- it is like... well, it is like diving under a wave in the ocean.  It shocks and awakens every part of your being.  You are tossed about, struck by the power of what has overtaken you, you are abraded.  You feel exhilarated. And it terrifies you.  But once you know it, you cannot deny that you have knowledge of it. I want to take that risk, feel the rush.  Sometimes I am raked across the sandy bottom, thrown against the shore and bruised, damaged, destroyed but sometimes gliding with a sense of joyous freedom.  Love is like  standing knee deep at the edge of the wide, vast ocean knowing that you are simultaneously small and insignificant, and yet fantastically magnificient because you are a part of it all.  Love calls us, echoes the beating of our hearts, like the ocean calls us, flowing and buoyant like the blood in our veins.  We know and recognize it in an integral, a priori sort of way- that primal sense of connectedness.   Love makes us free.  Love makes us real.  I am free and real in ways I have never been before.

It does not diminish in any way what I feel for or have with Dean.  If it did, it wouldn't be love.  Love does not diminish what it touches.

Desperate times create desperate people.  I've gone for 16 years without ever being told I'm beautiful or sexy or smart or wonderful by my husband.  Last week(or maybe the week before) he told me I was pretty. (I feel pretty, oh, so pretty)  I may not actually be any of those things but then why did you marry me? And after so long I began to wonder what is wrong with me- I must be such a bad lover that my husand would rather masturbate every other day for a year than have sex with me?  Is it my saddlebags that turn him off?  My breasts that weren't looking too perky after breastfeeding the girls collectively for over 5 years?  Stretch marks?  Do I smell bad?  Is it my saggy butt? My fat thighs?  Maybe all the scars from my surgeries turn his stomach.  Has he walked in on me in the bathroom one too many times?  Should I dye my hair red, blond, black? Grow it long?  Jen had long, shiny, dark hair. She was tall and lithe and in the poem he wrote her he commented on her feminine athleticism.  (At least it wasn't a great poem) Take more vitamins so my hair is shiny. Maybe I was too forward in the beginning?  Maybe I just grate on him.  My sense of humor is childish. Am I too tall? Weigh too much? Am I too stupid?  I've never been able to understand the math he tries to explain to me.  And so began a long litany of changes- hair cuts and styles and highlights and lowlights, I started running more, got a personal trainer- less make-up, more make-up, new clothes, higher heels. I got an IUD put in.(Maybe he would like sex with me more if he didn't have to use a condom)  I made plans for the girls so we could be alone.  And he would always have sex with me if I got things going but he never initiated and afterwards was a rush to get cleaned up and never a word of praise.  Was it fantastic? Was it good? Not even the proverbial "Thank you ma'am."

I take a share of the blame. I did pick Dean, after all, as undemonstrative and critical as he might be.  He cried when I told him what I had done.  And so did I.  I felt like a total shit.  Why did I even tell him? Some people think that's selfish but my hand was forced.  He had a medical issue and needed that piece of information in case it was related.  Yeah, so talk about feeling like an utterly amazing piece of trash- having to tell your husband you might have given him an STD.  Which I hadn't, but still- oh, the shame. 

Surprisingly enough, Dean didn't want to leave- didn't want me to leave.  I was prepared.  I was sure at the very least he'd need a seperation while we worked things out.  I was surprised.  And, I don't know- angry even-- Should you be more than a little upset when your wife tells you she's been unfaithful?  I guess I feel like that's part of the problem, feeling like he could take me or leave me.    But to give Dean credit that is due, he was willing to set these things aside, admit that he had some responsibility in things going 'awry'

And since that day, it has been up and down, happy and sad and if nothing else- an adventure, even if only in my mind.  But it is a complicated situation.  For all of us.  I keep whispering in my mind- whatever happens, it's gonna be alright.

You can think what you like.  I've been on the the other end of infidelity- when I was 3 months pregnant with Vi.  So I understand better than maybe others what pain this can cause the innocent parties.  In actuality, there are no innocent parties.  If you want to write me and argue about that, you better tell me a story in the first person.

This has never been about me NOT loving Dean- because I do immensely.  But do we give each other what we need? Do we bring out the best in each other?  Are we going to help each other live our dreams? Hm.  Do we settle for sitting on shore when there are waves beckoning?  Is it okay ecause, yes, that's what most people do- the water is too cold, or too rough or there is an undertow or the waves are too high or the water is too deep.  There are so many good reasons to keep yourself safe.

I don't know if safe is enough for me.  I know that last weekend when the horse was out of control, galloping down the beach I didn't ask God to let me live through it- I asked if when I do go, can it please be like this?

So- will you swim with me? Or are you going to stay on shore?

 

Sunday Riding Club goes to Mt. Madonna

I can't believe I've gotten so far behind here!  Okay, I know that sounds a little goofy coming from someone who didn't update her blog out of nowhere for like 2 months straight.

Sunday morning found me a tired girl after having been up until 4am.  Yes, lots of trouble sleeping these days unless I evoke what Marg and I have aptly phrased the "soma coma".  The irritating part of it- why can't I be one of those people who don't sleep because they are manic and have to clean their house from top to bottom?  No, I'm up all night writing letters and deleting them, reading books on sex and psychology and finding my "right life" and, of course, shopping for light fixtures and rugs and accent furniture.  WHat am I going to do when I run out of house to remodel/redecorate?  But I digress- that is a conversation for later.

I called Liz who said, "Pull on your breeches, girl, and hop in your car".  So that's what I did, no shower, no brushing of the hair, just me in breeches.  Now would be the time for another saddle bag joke but I just don;t have it in me tonight.

So, I raced down toward Mt. Madonna to meet up with Liz, Shawn and Hayley(one of Shawn's little helpers-she's 15?).  Stopped a Target on the way to get a step ladder because I'm