Is Killing Me....
(Drinking myself blind.....) Well, no, not really. Not really into the whole getting smashed thing, even when not growing babies, but the killing time part I TOTALLY get.
Thinking back, this isn't as bad as when I was pregnant with Kyle and stuck in an apartment with no friends, nothing to clean and no hobbies or when Jamie was out to sea for three month stretches and every single day felt like a week, but still....
This sucks.
This is my day. Wake up. Try to get out of bed without crying. I snap, crackle and pop, keep my legs very tightly together and swing them over the side, gently touching my feet to the floor, hoping that TODAY I won't get that sharp shooting pain that feels like I'm the perfect candidate for a lawsuit against Tampax and their faulty "hide your ninja sword in a feminine product" line of products I know they'll market when the world goes all apocalyptic. (TMI? Maybe, but you laughed...admit it). I'm sorely (ha, pun intended) pretty much every morning as I rise to my feet, wondering how I have more than one child, then remembering this never happened with the first few.
I waddle to the facilities and wish I had slept just a little longer, but that doesn't happen these days. It appears my body thinks 6 am is "sleeping in," but honestly once I'm a bit more awake, I'm grateful for the built in quiet. I hobble my to rocking chair and pick up some knitting and think. This quiet time is where I plan my day, my week, the stuff I need to do and create a mental (or physical) to do list that mostly doable. I used to make my to do list at night, but right now, at bedtime, I'm pretty convinced I will never be able to move again, so putting anything on a list seems impossible. There is fresh hope in the morning that is depleted by the end of the day.
Usually I am milking a goat by 8 am, but today the girls did it, which was nice. At about 7, I gather what I need from upstairs....school books, any yarn crap not downstairs, some candy (for potty bribes. We've settled on Dum Dum lollipops. They are small and do minimal sugar damage...) and anything else I think I'll need and put everything near my little nest on the couch.
And I sit.
For stretches. And I knit. And I homeschool and I color, talk, drink coffee, watch videos, change diapers, and read books. And I get up. I walk around, I switch laundry, I check lists, and make sure dinner stuff is out and find small 15 minute cleaning tasks I can do, that ONLY I can do and then start the process all over again.
And time tick tocks away. I talk to Jamie when he can talk and make lists and mentally prepare for all the things coming up. I am so thankful for the big living room where the littles can happily play beside me and I'm thankful for my older children who can bring things, cook easy food and provide me some pretty good distraction through meaningful conversation.
It takes about two days of "moderation" for me to say "screw moderation" and tackle a project that takes a lot out of me, like cleaning the yard or scrubbing the floor on my hands and knees (okay, not really, more like on my arse, scooting around like a pre-crawling baby, with bowl, sponge and towel) This morphs into me being up the rest of the day and the next, I pay the price, but even though it HURTS, I am not INJURED, so I just try to keep that in mind.
What does it feel like? Well...it feels like....you've fallen from a two story building, directly onto a saw horse, with your legs open, your crotch getting the entire impact. It's the weirdest thing to hurt in a place where you are usually pretty unaware of feeling anything. Now, when Mr. Baby moves, especially his head, it's like....the Ninja Sword Tampon is doing the Macarena in your nether regions. On some levels, I want to cry...on others I am just....intrigued by the weirdness of it all. My back is starting to do that end of pregnancy thing where it starts to spasm at my tailbone and then goes all the way up to my midback and dear Lord, that hurts. I lay down, I rock, I take baths and do pretty much whatever I can to get as comfortable as possible...but it's pretty much impossible....and I sleep with an obscene amount of pillows tucked all around me. (I think Jamie is getting jealous of my intimate relationship with my fluffy nighttime companions.) I swear this is the worst time yet, but Jamie reminds me...it's really not. I just can't believe I actually felt this before and didn't jump off the roof or perform some sort of sterilization surgery on myself...or something.....Okay, a bit dramatic, but damn.....I did this before? Really? Wow. I am in awe of myself... ;)
But enough of the gloom and doom. You get it. This sucks for me. It's bad. I don't say that much, or didn't last time, but this time around I'm more like "Well, might as well not pretend..." and I think that comes a little more with age and not giving a crap what people think...because let me tell you what they think "If it's really THAT BAD, why on earth would you do this...why get pregnant KNOWING ....it will be like this at the end."
Good question. Why do people do ANYTHING? Why do people kick their own tushes training for marathons? For mountain climbing? To get through medical school or perform a recital? Why does anyone burn the candle at both ends to meet an important deadline or say no to sleep to get a huge task done? Why do people fight deadly diseases knowing the cure will make them sicker than the disease in the short term? Because, as Jamie taught me (this lovely phrase....LOVE IT!!) "The juice is worth the squeeze..."
The end result of the suck is worth the endurance to get through it. The end result of this particular suck is a human being. I have approximately six weeks worth of increasingly bad suck to produce another living human. That' okay with me. Shoot, you know how many people go through months upon months of sheer agony to get a baby, whether that's through adoption or medical procedures to assist them? Six weeks is nothing compared to all that (even though it technically does feel like six years....)
So right now we're tick tocking away. Four weeks (I am thinking closer to three. I've done this a few times and I am pretty sure....I'm a week ahead of where "they" think I am) Killing time. Killing yarn (and my next blog post will highlight that. Y'all will think I'm nuts when I show what I finished last week. I think I set some sort of weird yarn record...)
Besides this, do you know how good it feels when this suck goes away? It's like this lottery winning scenario. I am handed the sweetest little creature...I can roll over in bed again...and my girly bits don't feel like they've been assaulted and I get that all in ONE DAY. It's like magic. It's what I'm looking forward to....what seems like a pipe dream now as I hobble around the house and glare at the chair that Rtwo inches out of place, making my life miserable and picturing myself as a T-rex trying to wipe his own butt when I try to do anything else (Me and switching laundry....there could be a SNL skit on this one simple domestic act. Did you know it's almost impossible to get all the laundry out of the washer when you're 76 months pregnant???)
For now, I'll play with yarn, watch live streams that teach me stuff and hand my children the digital camera to prove they've done their stuff....
And wait for another day ;)
Monday, April 14, 2014
Tuesday, April 8, 2014
Never Met a Stranger
I'll start this blog with a weird type of confession....whenever I see someone with more kiddos than I have...(Yes, they exist. I have two friends who just welcomed baby #12 to their families...) I always have this fleeting thought "Wow...wonder what it' like with THAT many people..." like...I don't already know. Like I don't already have that same dynamic and people don't think that about our family. You see, more than two seems like a LOT and not just in terms of the practical things like food, clothes and housing, but interaction. Can you really KNOW that many people as well as you'd want considering what relationship you're forming here....that between a parent and a child? I asked those questions of myself a million times and to be honest, I still do. Every little (or big...dude, my son and my 12 year old daughter are now people I look UP to, literally!) person in this house is very well known. What do I mean? I mean I know who they are, inside and out.....like I REALLY know them, like you would KNOW your best friend and quite honestly, that's my what children are...my very best friends, although I do realize as the Mom I can't always be the 'buddy...' but true friendship where there is a mutual respect, love and desire for the other's well being.....that's what we have.
But there comes a time in the existence of each of my children when I start to wonder "Will I know you....like I know the others...." That time is now. I have about five weeks left before I meet this new little guy who is already a part of our family in very practical ways. He has two baby swings set up, one upstairs and one down and a bassinet (you know, for holding all his clothes and diapers...and the five seconds I'll use it for a bathroom break...)....and a dresser full of clothes and three (or rather 2.5) crochet blankets and paraben free baby soap...He's all around the house. He has a name. He has a whole bunch of family action items scheduled around his arrival and a whole welcome wagon ready to greet him on his first day here. He has a paternity leave approval waiting for his birthday and even "I can knit this totally sleep deprived" projects ready for those first couple weeks when I'll be technically awake, but not...and since I always have yarn in my hands when I'm sitting I'll most certainly be knitting. He has a Snapfish folder ready for his first pictures, even!!
But then I look at Emory and think....she's the baby. As I've looked at all my children and thought "You...will be a BIG sibling??? HOW??? You are SO little and so precious and so cute and how on earth could this baby be THE BABY when YOU are THE BABY...." Then....the new baby comes and all the sudden "the baby" becomes this ginormous, awkward toddler type person who is such a PERSON and is so incredibly ready to jump up a notch on the family ladder....I just didn't see it. There's never been a displacement because all our children have been adored, cherished and wanted from the very beginning (or before...even when they are a vague idea of maybe, they are wanted). There's never once been a moment of jealousy because our children know, without a doubt, this baby is OURS. Not mine. Not Dad's, but ours. (Okay, word of wisdom here...if you are reading this and have ever considered a large family or large spacing...be very aware here....the baby is SPOILED. My older three children practically worship the almost two year old and I did NOT see that coming. They take her picture more than I do, it seems....record her on their mobile devices and actively seek her out during the day....it's still a bit bizarre for me and I wonder what life is like for her....having all these big people to love on her....She is very, very blessed).
For the past few months, as we've all gathered around as we do in the evenings (Bible study, checking in, lectures, planning meetings...it's necessary) something has felt off. I look around, tick off that all the kids are here, get to Emory....and feel like someone is just MISSING. It's the weirdest thing, but I suppose....it's explainable? I don't know. I've heard many women just KNOW they were "done"....that their family was complete and I am in awe. I always wonder what that feels like. To just know....because I never have. I honestly have no idea how many children will round out our family and make it complete....or what that even looks like, but the thought that there are still children in our family's story that aren't here yet both intrigues and baffles me. I think of this new baby, almost here, and think "Wow...another boy. Will he be like Noah? Kyle? Eli? " and "Wow...another one...to teach to read and use the proper receptacle for all things potty...and tie his shoes...." and it just amazes me. Who will this PERSON be?" It's just crazy. I lay awake at night and wonder how I'll feel and if this will be the one baby that I won't KNOW and won't like me and won't have that immediate feeling of "You are mine" with...but after 8 babies...that's never, ever happened.
I always know the baby like I've always known them. Within a few days it's like I can't remember life without them. Even though there is plenty of photographic evidence of things we've done before this baby....years and years back....it's like the promise of them has always been there. That they existed in some way before we even knew they would. This child, another little incarnation of Jamie and I....isn't strange, or new even...just.....part of us.
As little as they come..as furiously as they arrive, screaming, minutes, then hours old...I can confidently say when it comes to birthing my babies, I've never once met a stranger ;)
But there comes a time in the existence of each of my children when I start to wonder "Will I know you....like I know the others...." That time is now. I have about five weeks left before I meet this new little guy who is already a part of our family in very practical ways. He has two baby swings set up, one upstairs and one down and a bassinet (you know, for holding all his clothes and diapers...and the five seconds I'll use it for a bathroom break...)....and a dresser full of clothes and three (or rather 2.5) crochet blankets and paraben free baby soap...He's all around the house. He has a name. He has a whole bunch of family action items scheduled around his arrival and a whole welcome wagon ready to greet him on his first day here. He has a paternity leave approval waiting for his birthday and even "I can knit this totally sleep deprived" projects ready for those first couple weeks when I'll be technically awake, but not...and since I always have yarn in my hands when I'm sitting I'll most certainly be knitting. He has a Snapfish folder ready for his first pictures, even!!
But then I look at Emory and think....she's the baby. As I've looked at all my children and thought "You...will be a BIG sibling??? HOW??? You are SO little and so precious and so cute and how on earth could this baby be THE BABY when YOU are THE BABY...." Then....the new baby comes and all the sudden "the baby" becomes this ginormous, awkward toddler type person who is such a PERSON and is so incredibly ready to jump up a notch on the family ladder....I just didn't see it. There's never been a displacement because all our children have been adored, cherished and wanted from the very beginning (or before...even when they are a vague idea of maybe, they are wanted). There's never once been a moment of jealousy because our children know, without a doubt, this baby is OURS. Not mine. Not Dad's, but ours. (Okay, word of wisdom here...if you are reading this and have ever considered a large family or large spacing...be very aware here....the baby is SPOILED. My older three children practically worship the almost two year old and I did NOT see that coming. They take her picture more than I do, it seems....record her on their mobile devices and actively seek her out during the day....it's still a bit bizarre for me and I wonder what life is like for her....having all these big people to love on her....She is very, very blessed).
For the past few months, as we've all gathered around as we do in the evenings (Bible study, checking in, lectures, planning meetings...it's necessary) something has felt off. I look around, tick off that all the kids are here, get to Emory....and feel like someone is just MISSING. It's the weirdest thing, but I suppose....it's explainable? I don't know. I've heard many women just KNOW they were "done"....that their family was complete and I am in awe. I always wonder what that feels like. To just know....because I never have. I honestly have no idea how many children will round out our family and make it complete....or what that even looks like, but the thought that there are still children in our family's story that aren't here yet both intrigues and baffles me. I think of this new baby, almost here, and think "Wow...another boy. Will he be like Noah? Kyle? Eli? " and "Wow...another one...to teach to read and use the proper receptacle for all things potty...and tie his shoes...." and it just amazes me. Who will this PERSON be?" It's just crazy. I lay awake at night and wonder how I'll feel and if this will be the one baby that I won't KNOW and won't like me and won't have that immediate feeling of "You are mine" with...but after 8 babies...that's never, ever happened.
I always know the baby like I've always known them. Within a few days it's like I can't remember life without them. Even though there is plenty of photographic evidence of things we've done before this baby....years and years back....it's like the promise of them has always been there. That they existed in some way before we even knew they would. This child, another little incarnation of Jamie and I....isn't strange, or new even...just.....part of us.
As little as they come..as furiously as they arrive, screaming, minutes, then hours old...I can confidently say when it comes to birthing my babies, I've never once met a stranger ;)
Friday, January 24, 2014
A Flaming Controversy
Oy. I know...I just have a feeling that this is going to be a long blog post, so grab some...something you like to drink and settle in because I have a story for y'all. As I promised this will be installment #2 of "Vegan Knitter Rant" but before I get started, I have some things to say about the internet. Yes, the internet.
But let me back up a little bit. I have a little slice of sad in my world right now as my best friend is sort of...unavailable. It's a GOOD thing though, as she's finally pursuing her passion of being a beauty master (getting the paper anyways...she does NOT need it...) and it's a full time gig. When we finally had a chance to talk the other day, she was telling me about this cool nail art stuff and one phrase....struck me as funny...it was just an "aside" but FUNNY. "Well there's the whole controversy about this nail polish...I know that sounds stupid...but..."
But it didn't. I mean really, it didn't. On the internet there is controversy about EVER-ER-REE-THANG! I used to think it was just the small niche world I personally inhabited (at the time, natural parenting) but as my interests changed and grew, I realized...no matter WHAT the subject matter....if there is a group of people gathered on the internet, there is going to be controversy and debate and all this craziness (by the way, have you ever seen the Forum Lightbulb Joke?) Funny.
So really, none of you should be surprised (even if you think knitting is lame...I'll forgive you, only because I probably held that same opinion at some point in my life) that there can be controversy....about....
YARN. Yup. All kinds of controversy. (Stop laughing y'all, this is SERIOUS!!)
One of the biggest "hot topics" (oh...I'm dying...the pun here...you'll see in a bit) is natural yarns verses synthetic, or man made, yarns. There are those who SWEAR that if you do not knit with WOOL, you are not even worthy of the name knitter. There are those who defend to the DEATH that Red Heart Super Saver (cheapest, roughest and nastiest yarn you can buy) is the only thing you should use if you want your hard work to live long past any type of nuclear incident and then there are those who just sit back and watch...and read....and laugh. I would be the...well, you know (if you know me at all.)
And so a couple of days ago...it began. An innocuous thread where a kind knitter expressed her joy at her friend's announcement she was expecting....asking all the wise knitters for a bit of help because her friend was vegan and would not want a baby item made with animal fibers.
I knew what was coming. I mean, it ALWAYS does, but this time....it got funny.
Let me tell you what happens in a thread like this. People pipe up with their favorite non-animal yarns for about...oh...the first five posts. Someone inevitably mentions acrylic. Acrylic yarns, if you do not know, are completely man-made. Out of oil. They are about as far from anything natural as you are going to get. There are definitely no animals involved in the making of acrylic yarn, however...as the posters will point out...as it escalates....
It's really bad for the environment (This is true. It's a petroleum product and it's manufacture is really kind of gross. And in case you DOUBT this VERY REAL INFORMATION, here's a you tube video to PROVE IT. Okay, not really, I'm too lazy to look it up and I know no one is going to watch it, but in the interest of being honest, there was just such a video posted)
But, but, but....COTTON is even WORSE. (Yes, cotton is a pretty harsh crop in terms of what it does to the environment just because of the pesticides used...this is also true)
But....That is why I use ORGANIC COTTON. It's the ONLY THING I will use because it's like the only thing that ANY responsible knitter would use if they really card about their children, and grandchildren...and so on. Anything else is just downright IRRESPONSIBLE!!! (Hey, I have some organic cotton. It's lovely. Love it....great stuff)
BUT.....Did you KNOW...that in some areas where organic cotton is a lucrative industry, people are not allowed to use pesticides at ALL and because of that the indigent folk DIE of MALARIA. Therefore, organic cotton is KILLING PEOPLE and anyone who cares about their child or grandchildren and so on...should only use....(fill in the blank, I have no idea. This is news to me. Mosquitos suck. Literally. I'm all for their death and demise, but I think bats are a way cooler way to take care of this problem, but the vegans would probably have a problem with that too since using bats for anything would be abusive...)
Then...then you get the "I don't get it. Sheep and other fiber animals aren't KILLED in the process of collecting their fiber so why in the heck would you have anything against it..."
Bring on the PETA Saves the World Through You Tube videos showing all manner of animal abuse PROVING that any animal that has ever been used for fiber has been abused and mistreated. Duh. (Okay, listen up folks. I am very much against animal cruelty. But I believe with every ounce of my being that humans are the creatures higher up on the food ladder and as such, we are the GUARDIANS of animals. I do not believe in all this crap about how they are exploited if they are enjoyed and cared for. Sheep...they need sheared. Let to their own devices, they would not have survived this long on our planet. They are an animal that greatly benefits from a symbiotic relationship with humans. )
Then you have the small farm people who immediately get up in arms because THEIR animals are treated well (and they are, I am one such animal owner, although truth be known, I have no idea what I'm even going to do with the fiber once it's ready. I'm more interested in the fact that this crazy angora goat eats POKEY BALLS from my yard. She's awesome!) and how horrible it is to lump all fiber animal keepers in with mass producers of ANYTHING. (True, true...if you have an issue with yarn...know where it comes from. Not too hard, I promise you. Anyone who sells yarn on a small scale....they are going to tell you everything you want to know and more about the animal it came from. You think new grandparents are annoying with their stories and pictures? Then you've never met a small farm fiber producers. Those animals are their BABIES...)
But then....after all the controversy seems to have died down...after you think it's all been said...and everyone has been sufficiently scolded for their stupidity and their lifestyle and their beliefs...(and this happens in EVERY SINGLE THREAD I have EVER SEEN asking about babies and yarn...).....
"I only use natural fibers when I am knitting for any baby because of the flammability issue...."
What?
The Flammability Issue. Duh. You don't KNOW about the FLAMMABILITY ISSUE? Holy crap. I seriously hope you don't have children. Because if you do and don't know about this VERY IMPORTANT issue you have putting those precious children in harms way every day of their LIVES.
Sheesh. Let me educate you.
Sometimes things catch on fire. This has happened to yarn, I think. (It has to have happened to yarn because it's always brought up. It has to be really common right??) When wool comes near flame it will self-extinguish (in laymen terms, unless there is a direct flame....the wool will cease to burn. It just goes out) Cotton (which everyone seems to think is best) goes up like CRAZY (although the natural fiber snobs swear it's okay....they've obviously never been a yarn hunter and had to perform a burn test to determine fiber content, but I digress) Acrylic, on the other hand, being a plastic, melts. (And stinks. Oh MY LANDS..it STINKS) And so if....it catches on fire...it could like...melt instead of...burn. Which...if that was on a baby...that was in a fire...would be bad.
Okay, I get it. Certain yarns burn differently. Certain items in the entire natural WORLD burn differently, but why....oh why....is the first thing people think about when talking about what babies will wear....FIRE?
I'll just let you think about that for a minute and see if you can logically come to the same conclusion I have....
Wait for it...
Babies should not EVER EVER BE NEAR FIRE. Holy SHIZ people. Really?? I mean COME ON. In the event of a house fire (God forbid..seriously...) if...that fire...gets THAT CLOSE to your BABY, you have a very serious issue of smoke inhalation that has probably already taken the life of that baby (Okay this is SO MORBID, but the logic simply needs examined here)
So yesterday, as this thread is heating up surrounding whether or not vegans are stupid (I do not advocate putting down anyone who is sincerely trying to make the world a better place, no matter how misguided...that's their decision) someone throws out the standard "I never put babies in anything that will melt when they inevitably catch on fire" someone finally says....(paraphrasing, becaues I don't have permissionto quote)
"I just prefer keeping babies...out of fire...."
I wanted to stand up and cheer. Finallly. Someone said it. Out loud So I replied
"This always confuses me. The hyper-concern for what children are wearing if and when they catch on fire. Like it’s this very, very real possibility….the number of times it gets mentioned when people ask about knitting for children would have us all believe that fire is an inevitability or something. Totally off topic, but just something I find really odd….."
I got like 92 'agrees' and '14' funny clicks. So it's not just ME?? I am not the only one who wonders...wait, what?
And I thought that was funny. And I read it to the kids. And we had a good chuckle.
I went back to read the thread again, but at this point, it was locked. Uh-oh. That can't be good....what happened?
You want to know right? I know you do...
Well, someone else had a VERY PERTINENT piece of information to add to this thread. I mean, seriously guys, this is....Serious...Again, I'll paraphrase...
"So like...one time...this guy...set my really long hair on fire...and at the time...I was wearing this sweater. It was an ACRYLIC sweater. It burned me badly. So, yes, you should never, ever, ever use acrylic yarns for babies..."
Because?
I mean....what? Because?
When some dumb ass sets YOUR BABY'S hair on fire...that acrylic blanket you made....will like...melt your baby.
Oh. My. Gawd.
Y'all. This is not FUNNY. I am NOT LAUGHING that this person was harmed. That is awful. I mean, really it is....but then...when I thought it couldn't get any better....the person who said she didn't advocate keeping babies "in fires..." says...
"What kind of idiot sets someone's hair on FIRE?" Exactly!!! LOL!! And so, this poor girl, with her heartfelt plea...trying to save people from catching on fire (who didn't maybe...watch enough after school specials to realize her message should have been 'Choose who you hang around wisely...they may set you on fire...') started getting 'funny' clicks on her post....FUNNY CLICKS and she was indignant. I mean, hello? She could have DIED (she said this actually, in an edit) and how could anyone click her FUNNY button after sharing something so important....
I don't think she understood how not relevant her having her hair....set...PURPOSELY on fire....was (I have to believe that's why the funny clicks were given because I do believe humanity isn't THAT horrible. Being set on fire is NOT funny....at all...but I think we can all agree...if that happens, you have bigger problems than what the fiber content on your clothing says...right?)
And so the thread is locked now. Because it "derailed...." You think???
But that's ago, because this morning, a new one ALL about babies and their flammability and the history...and why wool rugs....is already morphing into a debate about chemicals put on clothing and how silly it is to make sure your child is safe WHEN you let them PLAY around fire....
The internet.....
Awesome.
But let me back up a little bit. I have a little slice of sad in my world right now as my best friend is sort of...unavailable. It's a GOOD thing though, as she's finally pursuing her passion of being a beauty master (getting the paper anyways...she does NOT need it...) and it's a full time gig. When we finally had a chance to talk the other day, she was telling me about this cool nail art stuff and one phrase....struck me as funny...it was just an "aside" but FUNNY. "Well there's the whole controversy about this nail polish...I know that sounds stupid...but..."
But it didn't. I mean really, it didn't. On the internet there is controversy about EVER-ER-REE-THANG! I used to think it was just the small niche world I personally inhabited (at the time, natural parenting) but as my interests changed and grew, I realized...no matter WHAT the subject matter....if there is a group of people gathered on the internet, there is going to be controversy and debate and all this craziness (by the way, have you ever seen the Forum Lightbulb Joke?) Funny.
So really, none of you should be surprised (even if you think knitting is lame...I'll forgive you, only because I probably held that same opinion at some point in my life) that there can be controversy....about....
YARN. Yup. All kinds of controversy. (Stop laughing y'all, this is SERIOUS!!)
One of the biggest "hot topics" (oh...I'm dying...the pun here...you'll see in a bit) is natural yarns verses synthetic, or man made, yarns. There are those who SWEAR that if you do not knit with WOOL, you are not even worthy of the name knitter. There are those who defend to the DEATH that Red Heart Super Saver (cheapest, roughest and nastiest yarn you can buy) is the only thing you should use if you want your hard work to live long past any type of nuclear incident and then there are those who just sit back and watch...and read....and laugh. I would be the...well, you know (if you know me at all.)
And so a couple of days ago...it began. An innocuous thread where a kind knitter expressed her joy at her friend's announcement she was expecting....asking all the wise knitters for a bit of help because her friend was vegan and would not want a baby item made with animal fibers.
I knew what was coming. I mean, it ALWAYS does, but this time....it got funny.
Let me tell you what happens in a thread like this. People pipe up with their favorite non-animal yarns for about...oh...the first five posts. Someone inevitably mentions acrylic. Acrylic yarns, if you do not know, are completely man-made. Out of oil. They are about as far from anything natural as you are going to get. There are definitely no animals involved in the making of acrylic yarn, however...as the posters will point out...as it escalates....
It's really bad for the environment (This is true. It's a petroleum product and it's manufacture is really kind of gross. And in case you DOUBT this VERY REAL INFORMATION, here's a you tube video to PROVE IT. Okay, not really, I'm too lazy to look it up and I know no one is going to watch it, but in the interest of being honest, there was just such a video posted)
But, but, but....COTTON is even WORSE. (Yes, cotton is a pretty harsh crop in terms of what it does to the environment just because of the pesticides used...this is also true)
But....That is why I use ORGANIC COTTON. It's the ONLY THING I will use because it's like the only thing that ANY responsible knitter would use if they really card about their children, and grandchildren...and so on. Anything else is just downright IRRESPONSIBLE!!! (Hey, I have some organic cotton. It's lovely. Love it....great stuff)
BUT.....Did you KNOW...that in some areas where organic cotton is a lucrative industry, people are not allowed to use pesticides at ALL and because of that the indigent folk DIE of MALARIA. Therefore, organic cotton is KILLING PEOPLE and anyone who cares about their child or grandchildren and so on...should only use....(fill in the blank, I have no idea. This is news to me. Mosquitos suck. Literally. I'm all for their death and demise, but I think bats are a way cooler way to take care of this problem, but the vegans would probably have a problem with that too since using bats for anything would be abusive...)
Then...then you get the "I don't get it. Sheep and other fiber animals aren't KILLED in the process of collecting their fiber so why in the heck would you have anything against it..."
Bring on the PETA Saves the World Through You Tube videos showing all manner of animal abuse PROVING that any animal that has ever been used for fiber has been abused and mistreated. Duh. (Okay, listen up folks. I am very much against animal cruelty. But I believe with every ounce of my being that humans are the creatures higher up on the food ladder and as such, we are the GUARDIANS of animals. I do not believe in all this crap about how they are exploited if they are enjoyed and cared for. Sheep...they need sheared. Let to their own devices, they would not have survived this long on our planet. They are an animal that greatly benefits from a symbiotic relationship with humans. )
Then you have the small farm people who immediately get up in arms because THEIR animals are treated well (and they are, I am one such animal owner, although truth be known, I have no idea what I'm even going to do with the fiber once it's ready. I'm more interested in the fact that this crazy angora goat eats POKEY BALLS from my yard. She's awesome!) and how horrible it is to lump all fiber animal keepers in with mass producers of ANYTHING. (True, true...if you have an issue with yarn...know where it comes from. Not too hard, I promise you. Anyone who sells yarn on a small scale....they are going to tell you everything you want to know and more about the animal it came from. You think new grandparents are annoying with their stories and pictures? Then you've never met a small farm fiber producers. Those animals are their BABIES...)
But then....after all the controversy seems to have died down...after you think it's all been said...and everyone has been sufficiently scolded for their stupidity and their lifestyle and their beliefs...(and this happens in EVERY SINGLE THREAD I have EVER SEEN asking about babies and yarn...).....
"I only use natural fibers when I am knitting for any baby because of the flammability issue...."
What?
The Flammability Issue. Duh. You don't KNOW about the FLAMMABILITY ISSUE? Holy crap. I seriously hope you don't have children. Because if you do and don't know about this VERY IMPORTANT issue you have putting those precious children in harms way every day of their LIVES.
Sheesh. Let me educate you.
Sometimes things catch on fire. This has happened to yarn, I think. (It has to have happened to yarn because it's always brought up. It has to be really common right??) When wool comes near flame it will self-extinguish (in laymen terms, unless there is a direct flame....the wool will cease to burn. It just goes out) Cotton (which everyone seems to think is best) goes up like CRAZY (although the natural fiber snobs swear it's okay....they've obviously never been a yarn hunter and had to perform a burn test to determine fiber content, but I digress) Acrylic, on the other hand, being a plastic, melts. (And stinks. Oh MY LANDS..it STINKS) And so if....it catches on fire...it could like...melt instead of...burn. Which...if that was on a baby...that was in a fire...would be bad.
Okay, I get it. Certain yarns burn differently. Certain items in the entire natural WORLD burn differently, but why....oh why....is the first thing people think about when talking about what babies will wear....FIRE?
I'll just let you think about that for a minute and see if you can logically come to the same conclusion I have....
Wait for it...
Babies should not EVER EVER BE NEAR FIRE. Holy SHIZ people. Really?? I mean COME ON. In the event of a house fire (God forbid..seriously...) if...that fire...gets THAT CLOSE to your BABY, you have a very serious issue of smoke inhalation that has probably already taken the life of that baby (Okay this is SO MORBID, but the logic simply needs examined here)
So yesterday, as this thread is heating up surrounding whether or not vegans are stupid (I do not advocate putting down anyone who is sincerely trying to make the world a better place, no matter how misguided...that's their decision) someone throws out the standard "I never put babies in anything that will melt when they inevitably catch on fire" someone finally says....(paraphrasing, becaues I don't have permissionto quote)
"I just prefer keeping babies...out of fire...."
I wanted to stand up and cheer. Finallly. Someone said it. Out loud So I replied
"This always confuses me. The hyper-concern for what children are wearing if and when they catch on fire. Like it’s this very, very real possibility….the number of times it gets mentioned when people ask about knitting for children would have us all believe that fire is an inevitability or something. Totally off topic, but just something I find really odd….."
I got like 92 'agrees' and '14' funny clicks. So it's not just ME?? I am not the only one who wonders...wait, what?
And I thought that was funny. And I read it to the kids. And we had a good chuckle.
I went back to read the thread again, but at this point, it was locked. Uh-oh. That can't be good....what happened?
You want to know right? I know you do...
Well, someone else had a VERY PERTINENT piece of information to add to this thread. I mean, seriously guys, this is....Serious...Again, I'll paraphrase...
"So like...one time...this guy...set my really long hair on fire...and at the time...I was wearing this sweater. It was an ACRYLIC sweater. It burned me badly. So, yes, you should never, ever, ever use acrylic yarns for babies..."
Because?
I mean....what? Because?
When some dumb ass sets YOUR BABY'S hair on fire...that acrylic blanket you made....will like...melt your baby.
Oh. My. Gawd.
Y'all. This is not FUNNY. I am NOT LAUGHING that this person was harmed. That is awful. I mean, really it is....but then...when I thought it couldn't get any better....the person who said she didn't advocate keeping babies "in fires..." says...
"What kind of idiot sets someone's hair on FIRE?" Exactly!!! LOL!! And so, this poor girl, with her heartfelt plea...trying to save people from catching on fire (who didn't maybe...watch enough after school specials to realize her message should have been 'Choose who you hang around wisely...they may set you on fire...') started getting 'funny' clicks on her post....FUNNY CLICKS and she was indignant. I mean, hello? She could have DIED (she said this actually, in an edit) and how could anyone click her FUNNY button after sharing something so important....
I don't think she understood how not relevant her having her hair....set...PURPOSELY on fire....was (I have to believe that's why the funny clicks were given because I do believe humanity isn't THAT horrible. Being set on fire is NOT funny....at all...but I think we can all agree...if that happens, you have bigger problems than what the fiber content on your clothing says...right?)
And so the thread is locked now. Because it "derailed...." You think???
But that's ago, because this morning, a new one ALL about babies and their flammability and the history...and why wool rugs....is already morphing into a debate about chemicals put on clothing and how silly it is to make sure your child is safe WHEN you let them PLAY around fire....
The internet.....
Awesome.
Monday, January 6, 2014
Living With....Me
The past few weeks in the Coffey house have been tumultuous in terms of stuff. Not emotional stuff, but tangible, physical stuff. Clutterty stuff, unused, guilt-inducing stuff.
Guilt. My constant companion since becoming a mother. An uninvited guest...haunting every occasion...every day...every activity. Anyone else out there have that? Not like "Oh I did something wrong..." guilt, but this sort of nagging feeling that when I'm doing one thing I should be doing another. Or being more....or better.
And so I've been sorting through things in my house as well as my head and I am not sure if it's the new year, all the events of last or just realizing life isn't forever....but things are changing around these parts.
Decluttering is nothing new here. We declutter and rearrange all the time. This time, though, I've had pen and paper in hand and am making notes about what is leaving, why, how it makes me feel and what it means in terms of future decisions and letting go of this person I always thought I SHOULD be. It's part frightening and part freeing.
Some things I've had to get really honest about....
Homeschooling. When I stared I had my little school room and bins and curriculum, a map and alphabet on the wall. Tidy and neat. Perfect and structured. I've come to find out it just doesn't work that way. I mean, sure, you can read blog after blog with picture perfect "pinable" scenes of a homeschool Mom's BEST day, but the reality is....homeschooling just isn't school at HOME. It's not. In my house we school all over the place...we search for pens and pencils and crayons and kids disappear for a couple hours and filter back to me when they have questions. I do not stand in front of a chalkboard and write anything and very rarely do we do "tests" or raising hands or any of that nonsense. My olders work independently, my littles sit on my lap.
And curriculum. Oh how I wish I was that mom that did all the fun activities with those big curricula and liked making homemade slime and mixing and crafting and all that crap. But I don't. I never have. I've been at this for 11 years and I am still not into making school that hard. I want to get it done. I want my children to understand commas and question marks, speak intelligently, read good books and know how to change a tire. That is what SCHOOL is for. Life is for everything else. That's where we learn about animals, how to cook, clean, manage time, money and relationships and learn to be the people we are supposed to be (yes, even me...I'm still learning too!)
So...yesterday I sorted through it all. I touched books that induced such guilt I struggled hardcore to let go. I had to ask myself...does this reflect OUR life..or the imaginary one I think I'll live someday. Is the life I already do live THAT bad and would it be THAT good if I used THIS BOOK in our homeschool? I mean really that's what I'm holding onto if you really bottom line it. Maybe...maybe with NOAH...or the new baby, I'll be that Mom that spends 3 hours on the Phonics Game...and not be that Mom that uses the 100 Easy Lessons (in 15 minutes a day!!....and all my children can and do read by the way!) Going through workbooks with like 10 pages done because we realized this was NOT going to work was HARD.....or those with HALF done because by half the book my children were too advanced to continue without being bored....those books, half used, dog-eared to page 100, pristine until 203....killed me. It felt so wrong, so wasteful....so ICKY. With each book I tore pages out of (for porfolio purposes) and tossed....it didn't feel better ,it felt worse, to be perfectly honest. Until I sat down with pen and paper and wrote down what I threw away, what replaced it and WHY I could let go. That felt good. I gave myself written permission to be okay with who I really, really am and what I am doing with my childrne for real...not in fantasy land.
This extended to other parts of my persona and who I really am. I love to scrapbook. I haven't in like a year. Why? Too much crap to sort through to get to it. I realized, through writing it all out scrapbooking is NOT a "creative outlet" for me. Not at all. I enjoy it because I enjoy going through the memories and I enjoy spending time with my children who help me and I enjoy the finished product and watching them go through their books. But I am not that crafter that wants to paper piece embellishments to paint chipboard letters to perfectly match the paper I selected specifically for the layout. I want to crop my pictures, put them on pretty paper, write down what's going on, stick some pretty stickers on the page and be done. That's enough for me. And so I got rid of not only supplies....but the expectation to USE them because I had them (And Mallory is having a heck of a time with all the paper and stickers she's been given)....and with that, all my scrapbook magazines with "Great ideas.." I NEVER refer to them. I never use them. So again, the girls got them to cut up (they are making collages and if you are ever doing something mixed media, the graphics and text in scrap magazines are unparalleled!!) Also, I don't have to be a perfectionist about my photos. I can delete, toss and get rid of MUCH of what I take. Digital technology has been like mega overload for me in terms of pictures, and so as an "allowance job" I directed my almost 14 year old daughter to our dropbox and showed her how to sort through all the pictures and get rid of blurry shots, headless people, Mom looking like she's on a bender (why is it that everytime I make it into a picture I look drunk??) and I didn't.....even...supervise. I trusted her. I needed these sorted and didn't have time. And lo and behold, even though I didn't micro-manage this task, no one in my family mysteriously disappeared because a photo I wanted got deleted. Who knew??
Bin after bin, box after box, choice after choice has been examined and left me a little raw. Who am I exactly? What do I value? Does my life reflect that or am I still just waiting for that life to happen. It's a tough question to answer. There are a million choices I make on a daily basis and some I learn from, some I cling to, some I am not sure about....
Last night though, I sat and stuffed all my pocket diapers for Emory. I hadn't used them in awhile. I found myself wanting to get back to that choice because it reflects what is important to me on a level most people probably think is lame. But still, it's a choice I made a long time ago that got brushed aside in favor of other things...things that don't necessarily even get in the way of using them, but when you're cluttered of mind and spirit, you tend to follow the path of least resistance...and we all know, cloth diapers ain't that path ;)
I am not sure all I will accomplish this year, but I think journaling about what it is I am doing and why is cathartic. Why am I buying THIS? Why did I avoid doing THIS? Why do I think THAT? For the rest of my life I'll be living with me and I'd really like that person to stop being a stranger I think I'll get to know if only I make all these choices I never do make. For better or worse, I am who I am and while I welcome and accept growth and change, I need to be realistic about what that process is and what it produces over the LONG TERM, not the right now....and that nothing I hold on to, or start doing, or BUY will produce any lasting, meaningful change anyhow.
So here's to a 2014 where I start to like living with me, myself and I....
Guilt. My constant companion since becoming a mother. An uninvited guest...haunting every occasion...every day...every activity. Anyone else out there have that? Not like "Oh I did something wrong..." guilt, but this sort of nagging feeling that when I'm doing one thing I should be doing another. Or being more....or better.
And so I've been sorting through things in my house as well as my head and I am not sure if it's the new year, all the events of last or just realizing life isn't forever....but things are changing around these parts.
Decluttering is nothing new here. We declutter and rearrange all the time. This time, though, I've had pen and paper in hand and am making notes about what is leaving, why, how it makes me feel and what it means in terms of future decisions and letting go of this person I always thought I SHOULD be. It's part frightening and part freeing.
Some things I've had to get really honest about....
Homeschooling. When I stared I had my little school room and bins and curriculum, a map and alphabet on the wall. Tidy and neat. Perfect and structured. I've come to find out it just doesn't work that way. I mean, sure, you can read blog after blog with picture perfect "pinable" scenes of a homeschool Mom's BEST day, but the reality is....homeschooling just isn't school at HOME. It's not. In my house we school all over the place...we search for pens and pencils and crayons and kids disappear for a couple hours and filter back to me when they have questions. I do not stand in front of a chalkboard and write anything and very rarely do we do "tests" or raising hands or any of that nonsense. My olders work independently, my littles sit on my lap.
And curriculum. Oh how I wish I was that mom that did all the fun activities with those big curricula and liked making homemade slime and mixing and crafting and all that crap. But I don't. I never have. I've been at this for 11 years and I am still not into making school that hard. I want to get it done. I want my children to understand commas and question marks, speak intelligently, read good books and know how to change a tire. That is what SCHOOL is for. Life is for everything else. That's where we learn about animals, how to cook, clean, manage time, money and relationships and learn to be the people we are supposed to be (yes, even me...I'm still learning too!)
So...yesterday I sorted through it all. I touched books that induced such guilt I struggled hardcore to let go. I had to ask myself...does this reflect OUR life..or the imaginary one I think I'll live someday. Is the life I already do live THAT bad and would it be THAT good if I used THIS BOOK in our homeschool? I mean really that's what I'm holding onto if you really bottom line it. Maybe...maybe with NOAH...or the new baby, I'll be that Mom that spends 3 hours on the Phonics Game...and not be that Mom that uses the 100 Easy Lessons (in 15 minutes a day!!....and all my children can and do read by the way!) Going through workbooks with like 10 pages done because we realized this was NOT going to work was HARD.....or those with HALF done because by half the book my children were too advanced to continue without being bored....those books, half used, dog-eared to page 100, pristine until 203....killed me. It felt so wrong, so wasteful....so ICKY. With each book I tore pages out of (for porfolio purposes) and tossed....it didn't feel better ,it felt worse, to be perfectly honest. Until I sat down with pen and paper and wrote down what I threw away, what replaced it and WHY I could let go. That felt good. I gave myself written permission to be okay with who I really, really am and what I am doing with my childrne for real...not in fantasy land.
This extended to other parts of my persona and who I really am. I love to scrapbook. I haven't in like a year. Why? Too much crap to sort through to get to it. I realized, through writing it all out scrapbooking is NOT a "creative outlet" for me. Not at all. I enjoy it because I enjoy going through the memories and I enjoy spending time with my children who help me and I enjoy the finished product and watching them go through their books. But I am not that crafter that wants to paper piece embellishments to paint chipboard letters to perfectly match the paper I selected specifically for the layout. I want to crop my pictures, put them on pretty paper, write down what's going on, stick some pretty stickers on the page and be done. That's enough for me. And so I got rid of not only supplies....but the expectation to USE them because I had them (And Mallory is having a heck of a time with all the paper and stickers she's been given)....and with that, all my scrapbook magazines with "Great ideas.." I NEVER refer to them. I never use them. So again, the girls got them to cut up (they are making collages and if you are ever doing something mixed media, the graphics and text in scrap magazines are unparalleled!!) Also, I don't have to be a perfectionist about my photos. I can delete, toss and get rid of MUCH of what I take. Digital technology has been like mega overload for me in terms of pictures, and so as an "allowance job" I directed my almost 14 year old daughter to our dropbox and showed her how to sort through all the pictures and get rid of blurry shots, headless people, Mom looking like she's on a bender (why is it that everytime I make it into a picture I look drunk??) and I didn't.....even...supervise. I trusted her. I needed these sorted and didn't have time. And lo and behold, even though I didn't micro-manage this task, no one in my family mysteriously disappeared because a photo I wanted got deleted. Who knew??
Bin after bin, box after box, choice after choice has been examined and left me a little raw. Who am I exactly? What do I value? Does my life reflect that or am I still just waiting for that life to happen. It's a tough question to answer. There are a million choices I make on a daily basis and some I learn from, some I cling to, some I am not sure about....
Last night though, I sat and stuffed all my pocket diapers for Emory. I hadn't used them in awhile. I found myself wanting to get back to that choice because it reflects what is important to me on a level most people probably think is lame. But still, it's a choice I made a long time ago that got brushed aside in favor of other things...things that don't necessarily even get in the way of using them, but when you're cluttered of mind and spirit, you tend to follow the path of least resistance...and we all know, cloth diapers ain't that path ;)
I am not sure all I will accomplish this year, but I think journaling about what it is I am doing and why is cathartic. Why am I buying THIS? Why did I avoid doing THIS? Why do I think THAT? For the rest of my life I'll be living with me and I'd really like that person to stop being a stranger I think I'll get to know if only I make all these choices I never do make. For better or worse, I am who I am and while I welcome and accept growth and change, I need to be realistic about what that process is and what it produces over the LONG TERM, not the right now....and that nothing I hold on to, or start doing, or BUY will produce any lasting, meaningful change anyhow.
So here's to a 2014 where I start to like living with me, myself and I....
Monday, December 30, 2013
Guess Not
It's funny how when we get older we are apt to share little stories about ourselves that.....at the time we were doing these things, we would rather DIE than admit what we had done. So it is with the "Guess Jeans..." incident. These were the "in" thing when I was in middle school and you were a complete dork if your jeans didn't come affixed with the telling little triangle that screamed "Like me, like me....I am wearing designer jeans!!" I know, lame, but such is the way of the world in the fishbowl called middle school. I am not sure where my family stood financially back in those days. It was confusing. One week we were too poor to order pizza, the next my family was headed out to eat at a restaurant. What I do know is that when clothing shopping time came around, I was carted off to the discount stores by my grandmother and her magic plastic card and although I was never given a limit of things I could buy, I was well aware not to ask for too much. The day I found the labeled jeans in a Ross Dress for Less was magic. I could finally be cool. Not only would the girls accept me, the boys would like me too. After all, I now had designer jeans. I was IN.
Or not. It didn't really matter in the grand scheme of things with the boys, but the girls did pay attention. They always do to such things. The jeans were ugly. Too light for my taste and I felt stupid in them to be completely honest. I mean they were just JEANS. Baggy in the butt, loose in the thighs....but I wore them....acceptably enough to make sure everyone knew I still owned them. The problem started when the temperatures started creeping up and those cool girl jeans made for a very hot pre-teen and not the swaggering, hair flipping kind of cool. I was sweating my butt off. And so I had to put the jeans away and swap out for a pair of white shorts that became my staple. Always the creative type, one night it hit me...my white shorts could be designer too! I mean the only different between my Walmart piece of crap pants and my ugly designer jeans was that tiny little red and white triangle asking those looking at my tush to GUESS something or another. I'd simply take the label off the jeans and sew them on the shorts. BRILLIANT!
It worked. No one suspected a thing. I did tell a friend after many months of having worn the shorts....a friend with similar financial circumstances and with a similar not so cool house....and well, in typical true girl world fashion she thought it was awesome until she got miffed over me wearing the same shirt one day (or some equally abhorrent offense) and told a bunch of girls. Lovely.
It was an embarrassing incident, that whole label slapping thing, but as an adult, I can see where I've still been slapping labels on things not meant for them. One recurrent theme in my life is giving the label "friend" out like candy, not realizing...it belongs on one kind of person only, not the string of people who will flow in and out of my life as I go through it. It's a lesson I keep having to learn and one of the most painful I've experienced in my life....from way back then...to now.
Jamie is always telling me I am way, way, way too quick to trust people with my respect . I immediately "click" with someone based on some arbitrary thing like....knitting, or how many children they have...or that they like plaid curtains in red, gold and green like me...and think "This person IS AWESOME..." and then...the let down. Then I realize this person will gossip about me, ask me to do things for them that I simply don't have time to do (knowing I don't really have time but not really taking that into consideration) and asking me to participate in the fantasy they've created for themselves about their life. I am not talking having disagreements or even heated debates about things we find passionate (I love that)...I am talking "This is how my life is and even though I don't do any of the things I say I value....and even though everyone else says I am not doing this thing...I need you...if you are my FRIEND to validate and agree with everything I say and see that I really am awesome and if you don't....I'm going to bring YOU down until you feel so low you have no choice but to agree with me or become friendless..." This has happened to me year after year....after year. But then....someone else came along....and became a friend. A real one....and things changed.
This person never once told me 'You should do this...or that....or this..." This person doesn't gossip about other people but is also not shy about making clear who they will/will not socialize with and why. No further details...just the facts. Open and shut. Without all this crazy emotion girls usually have. She told me one time how to handle something that really upset me....gave me the exact WORDS to say and she was so confident in them that I was blown away. You mean I don't have to explain my position? Nope. I don't have to make the other person see it my way? Nope. I don't have to bend over backwards to get them to like me even if it means I don't like myself in the process. HECK NO.
And I don't need anyone's permission to decide they are no good for me. I don't have to be nicey nice about it but I also don't need to talk about it to those who aren't involved. I can make that decision FOR ME. ME. I don't have to justify it. I know this might be old news to other people, but it was an epiphany for me. I always felt like if someone liked me, I had to like them back and I had to give the friendship my all. Quite often my all was denying my beliefs about everything under the sun so as not to offend, allowing myself to be walked all over, exposing myself to all kinds of nonsense that I didn't agree with and unfortunately dragging my children into the fray with me. This past time, my husband also got a little piece of the action (wait, that sounded REALLY REALLY BAD LOL!!! Get your mind out of the gutter. My husband was "tattled on" in a very juvenile way that made him look even better in the place in which he was tattled on and the tattler looking like a complete ass. Justice has been served). This friend has no idea that I know....but I do ;) And that friend was very swiftly erased from all facets of my life. Good riddance and good luck.
I'm still not sure what the label friend is going to mean for me in the future. I have a few ideas. I'm sure they will change over time, as everything does, but there are a few things I know for sure...
1. Don't gossip about me. I am way too open about everything for you to ever find the need to talk to someone ELSE about what you THINK is happening with me. Ask me. I'll tell you. As a matter of fact, I'll tell you more than you want to know most likely. I don't hide a whole bunch. I keep some things private, but they are so private no one would even have enough information to gossip about it. If you want more information about ME...ask ME. Otherwise what you are doing is making yourself feel better by putting me down. Definitely not a good friendship quality.
2. Don't lie. Seriously, this is one thing I will never, ever, ever be able to stand. Lying serves zero purpose. Say what you mean and mean what you say. If you have to lie about something, you shouldn't have done it. And you don't stand behind it. And you can't change what you need to change and neither can I. It's stupid.
3. Don't be (too) weird. Don't listen to a concern I have and go off into tinfoil hat land on me and expect me to agree. Like...seriously. I am still reeling over a situation I had with a writing client who was too pushy. They wanted a lot out of me. When I tried to explain to someone how invasive it felt, I was told that client was probably trying to get close to me to steal my bank account information. What? I mean....how does your mind even go there? Get outdoors ye weirdo and realize the world we're living in isn't the Matrix. Yet.
4. Don't think I think like you. Another thing still making me go "hmmmm" was a confession that a certain person liked me at first but was afraid that my family would do a, b and c. I spent so much time trying to convince this person we were NOT LIKE THAT....(cause we're not...don't want to get too involved here) that it never once occurred to me to ask myself "Wait, why on earth would you think we would???' Simple answer? Because YOU would. And that's not okay with me. I need to use a lot more of my brain cells when things come up like this. My immediate reaction is to soothe the other person and assure them I won't like, steal their household goods while they use the bathroom when I visit....or turn them in for child abuse because they aren't Christian.....when I should be asking "Why on earth would they think like that in the first place..."
5. Don't treat me poorly. I know this should be a no brainer, but you'd be surprised how many people who want to be labeled a friend just won't do the work required. They want to receive the blessing of having a friend but not being one. And honestly, I'll give until I'm so frustrated and upset that I want to hole up in my own house forever. Thankfully, my husband has committed to helping me in this area. After years and years of seeing me hurt, he's finally feeling like it's okay to say "Hey this person really isn't good for you..." He was hesitant in years past to do so because he doesn't want ot be that mean, controlling jerk, but...thing is. He's the person I chose to spend my life with and knows me better than anyone else. It's not controlling or mean to see a pattern of behavior that just crushes me and remind me....look out.
6. Worship my ability with yarn.
7. Just kidding ;)
I have faith. A lot of it. In people, in my ability to have good friendships...in my ability to recognize the people that ARE good for me and those we are not. I've spent some time in recent months mourning many relationships that I wish were one thing and realizing they were not, but in that realizing the reason I could recognize it was because I was forming REAL ones. I had to realize I don't have the relationship with some friends I wanted, but that others were there for me through something awful.....I had to mourn the relationship I do not have with my mom or my siblings....all the while talking to the cousin who was my BEST FRIEND (seriously) until we were separated due to family drama when we were younger. I also realized though the last few months that my husband absolutely adores me. I mean, I always knew we clicked, but lately....through a lot of prayer and time together and counseling I have realized anew...we have something amazing. I mean AMAZING. I always took for granted how close we were, how connected and how well matched. We had a dream, together and getting there was so hard we kind of forgot to look around and realize "Wait, we did it...we're here, it really happened...." It's still happening.
The best news is, I don't give a rat's tush what my jeans say these days. I really don't. I think my favorite pair are the ugly elastic waist pair I can throw on no matter what the number on the scale says or what stage of baby making I'm in. No label on the butt to be found. So if you want to know what brand they are...you just going to have to guess ;) Ha!
Or not. It didn't really matter in the grand scheme of things with the boys, but the girls did pay attention. They always do to such things. The jeans were ugly. Too light for my taste and I felt stupid in them to be completely honest. I mean they were just JEANS. Baggy in the butt, loose in the thighs....but I wore them....acceptably enough to make sure everyone knew I still owned them. The problem started when the temperatures started creeping up and those cool girl jeans made for a very hot pre-teen and not the swaggering, hair flipping kind of cool. I was sweating my butt off. And so I had to put the jeans away and swap out for a pair of white shorts that became my staple. Always the creative type, one night it hit me...my white shorts could be designer too! I mean the only different between my Walmart piece of crap pants and my ugly designer jeans was that tiny little red and white triangle asking those looking at my tush to GUESS something or another. I'd simply take the label off the jeans and sew them on the shorts. BRILLIANT!
It worked. No one suspected a thing. I did tell a friend after many months of having worn the shorts....a friend with similar financial circumstances and with a similar not so cool house....and well, in typical true girl world fashion she thought it was awesome until she got miffed over me wearing the same shirt one day (or some equally abhorrent offense) and told a bunch of girls. Lovely.
It was an embarrassing incident, that whole label slapping thing, but as an adult, I can see where I've still been slapping labels on things not meant for them. One recurrent theme in my life is giving the label "friend" out like candy, not realizing...it belongs on one kind of person only, not the string of people who will flow in and out of my life as I go through it. It's a lesson I keep having to learn and one of the most painful I've experienced in my life....from way back then...to now.
Jamie is always telling me I am way, way, way too quick to trust people with my respect . I immediately "click" with someone based on some arbitrary thing like....knitting, or how many children they have...or that they like plaid curtains in red, gold and green like me...and think "This person IS AWESOME..." and then...the let down. Then I realize this person will gossip about me, ask me to do things for them that I simply don't have time to do (knowing I don't really have time but not really taking that into consideration) and asking me to participate in the fantasy they've created for themselves about their life. I am not talking having disagreements or even heated debates about things we find passionate (I love that)...I am talking "This is how my life is and even though I don't do any of the things I say I value....and even though everyone else says I am not doing this thing...I need you...if you are my FRIEND to validate and agree with everything I say and see that I really am awesome and if you don't....I'm going to bring YOU down until you feel so low you have no choice but to agree with me or become friendless..." This has happened to me year after year....after year. But then....someone else came along....and became a friend. A real one....and things changed.
This person never once told me 'You should do this...or that....or this..." This person doesn't gossip about other people but is also not shy about making clear who they will/will not socialize with and why. No further details...just the facts. Open and shut. Without all this crazy emotion girls usually have. She told me one time how to handle something that really upset me....gave me the exact WORDS to say and she was so confident in them that I was blown away. You mean I don't have to explain my position? Nope. I don't have to make the other person see it my way? Nope. I don't have to bend over backwards to get them to like me even if it means I don't like myself in the process. HECK NO.
And I don't need anyone's permission to decide they are no good for me. I don't have to be nicey nice about it but I also don't need to talk about it to those who aren't involved. I can make that decision FOR ME. ME. I don't have to justify it. I know this might be old news to other people, but it was an epiphany for me. I always felt like if someone liked me, I had to like them back and I had to give the friendship my all. Quite often my all was denying my beliefs about everything under the sun so as not to offend, allowing myself to be walked all over, exposing myself to all kinds of nonsense that I didn't agree with and unfortunately dragging my children into the fray with me. This past time, my husband also got a little piece of the action (wait, that sounded REALLY REALLY BAD LOL!!! Get your mind out of the gutter. My husband was "tattled on" in a very juvenile way that made him look even better in the place in which he was tattled on and the tattler looking like a complete ass. Justice has been served). This friend has no idea that I know....but I do ;) And that friend was very swiftly erased from all facets of my life. Good riddance and good luck.
I'm still not sure what the label friend is going to mean for me in the future. I have a few ideas. I'm sure they will change over time, as everything does, but there are a few things I know for sure...
1. Don't gossip about me. I am way too open about everything for you to ever find the need to talk to someone ELSE about what you THINK is happening with me. Ask me. I'll tell you. As a matter of fact, I'll tell you more than you want to know most likely. I don't hide a whole bunch. I keep some things private, but they are so private no one would even have enough information to gossip about it. If you want more information about ME...ask ME. Otherwise what you are doing is making yourself feel better by putting me down. Definitely not a good friendship quality.
2. Don't lie. Seriously, this is one thing I will never, ever, ever be able to stand. Lying serves zero purpose. Say what you mean and mean what you say. If you have to lie about something, you shouldn't have done it. And you don't stand behind it. And you can't change what you need to change and neither can I. It's stupid.
3. Don't be (too) weird. Don't listen to a concern I have and go off into tinfoil hat land on me and expect me to agree. Like...seriously. I am still reeling over a situation I had with a writing client who was too pushy. They wanted a lot out of me. When I tried to explain to someone how invasive it felt, I was told that client was probably trying to get close to me to steal my bank account information. What? I mean....how does your mind even go there? Get outdoors ye weirdo and realize the world we're living in isn't the Matrix. Yet.
4. Don't think I think like you. Another thing still making me go "hmmmm" was a confession that a certain person liked me at first but was afraid that my family would do a, b and c. I spent so much time trying to convince this person we were NOT LIKE THAT....(cause we're not...don't want to get too involved here) that it never once occurred to me to ask myself "Wait, why on earth would you think we would???' Simple answer? Because YOU would. And that's not okay with me. I need to use a lot more of my brain cells when things come up like this. My immediate reaction is to soothe the other person and assure them I won't like, steal their household goods while they use the bathroom when I visit....or turn them in for child abuse because they aren't Christian.....when I should be asking "Why on earth would they think like that in the first place..."
5. Don't treat me poorly. I know this should be a no brainer, but you'd be surprised how many people who want to be labeled a friend just won't do the work required. They want to receive the blessing of having a friend but not being one. And honestly, I'll give until I'm so frustrated and upset that I want to hole up in my own house forever. Thankfully, my husband has committed to helping me in this area. After years and years of seeing me hurt, he's finally feeling like it's okay to say "Hey this person really isn't good for you..." He was hesitant in years past to do so because he doesn't want ot be that mean, controlling jerk, but...thing is. He's the person I chose to spend my life with and knows me better than anyone else. It's not controlling or mean to see a pattern of behavior that just crushes me and remind me....look out.
6. Worship my ability with yarn.
7. Just kidding ;)
I have faith. A lot of it. In people, in my ability to have good friendships...in my ability to recognize the people that ARE good for me and those we are not. I've spent some time in recent months mourning many relationships that I wish were one thing and realizing they were not, but in that realizing the reason I could recognize it was because I was forming REAL ones. I had to realize I don't have the relationship with some friends I wanted, but that others were there for me through something awful.....I had to mourn the relationship I do not have with my mom or my siblings....all the while talking to the cousin who was my BEST FRIEND (seriously) until we were separated due to family drama when we were younger. I also realized though the last few months that my husband absolutely adores me. I mean, I always knew we clicked, but lately....through a lot of prayer and time together and counseling I have realized anew...we have something amazing. I mean AMAZING. I always took for granted how close we were, how connected and how well matched. We had a dream, together and getting there was so hard we kind of forgot to look around and realize "Wait, we did it...we're here, it really happened...." It's still happening.
The best news is, I don't give a rat's tush what my jeans say these days. I really don't. I think my favorite pair are the ugly elastic waist pair I can throw on no matter what the number on the scale says or what stage of baby making I'm in. No label on the butt to be found. So if you want to know what brand they are...you just going to have to guess ;) Ha!
Sunday, November 24, 2013
Lessons from The Cookie Girl
Man alive, what a whirlwind couple weeks!! I have sat here contemplating this post since my first Cookie Girl inquisition and I am a little shocked by the manifestation of so many other issues that have popped up and at this point I am more amused than annoyed (which is a good thing) and even more intrigued about human nature in general.
Let me recap for you. Many, many months ago (I'm thinking it was well over a year ago actually) Jamie brought home "cookies" (they were actually muffins) from a gal at work, that she made him as a thank you for changing her tire, which was flat. I didn't love it then and yet, nothing really came out of it. I laughed it off and gave them to the kids and it was done, but then...
In the past couple of weeks, as we've gone through counseling (more on that below) she was brought up again, not by me, but by Jamie. He explained this girl had gotten increasingly more friendly as the months went on, asking personal questions and sharing her own personal details, to a point where my husband felt it was bordering on inappropriate. This came up as we were discussing what marriage means and what boundaries were there and what we COULD "give" other people while saving our most precious selves for each other. This was a philosophical discussion, not at all an argument, but I told him how weird it was for me that the cookie thing was unsettling for me in light of all the food that's ever been brought home from other people (there's been a lot! Jamie loves food and people love him, so we've been gifted very often with yumminess!) and how I wondered, what that intuition on my part? I found that idea fascinating.
I've been told I'm "blowing it out of proportion" or "giving her more power" and to this I've kind of been like "What? Seriously? Do you even understand what is happening here?" and I will say I strongly disagree with this line of thinking. Blowing this out of proportion would mean something entirely different...like accusing my husband of doing something wrong (never happened), thinking this person was this major threat in my life (I don't....more on that below) or being so upset and worried that I couldn't see the lesson in all this (and I do...) And giving her power? Not really. I wasn't concerned with how often my husband saw her on a weekly basis, or what she looked like, or really anything about her, but I will say once he had the 'These are my lines talk" and she blatantly ignored him and started sharing even MORE personal information, that is when the indignation came into play and not because she was a threat to my marriage, but because....well...as dumb as it sounds, it was rude. And y'all...that is my MO on any and every situation I run across. The lady yelling at me at the gas pump to buy her gas? Same reaction. I posted on Facebook, laughed about it, pondered what on earth made this women think she could/should do that....and any number of interactions I've had with people on this planet who seemed to have been absent in the "Normal Human Behavior 101" class :) What blew my mind wasn't that she had "caused problems" in someone else's marriage (again, see below) it was that after the "Dude TMI..." she shared...MORE TMI. Right now, I'm grinning ear to ear about the irony of it, but honestly....that is not giving anyone "too much power" that is just being introspective and inquisitive about human behavior and in that, I'm guilty as charged. I could list 100 things that have happened in the last year alone that have made me...O.O.....
And as always is the case in my life, I've learned a whole lot from "Cookie Girl" and the conversations with my husband and friends surrounding her, and have a few more "life tidbits" to add to my collection that I'm quite pleased to have ;) Things I've learned through this:
#1- There isn't a one person who is a "threat to marriage" if that marriage is good to begin with. I am not concerned with Cookie Girl's intentions because no matter what they were....without my husband "taking the bait" it's a moot point. She could have baked those in a silky nightie, chanting a love spell and adding some special aphrodisiac to the mix for all I know (or care) In the end, no matter what HER intentions are, it's only my husband's that matter in the mix of our relationship. No one else's intentions can harm US, if OUR intentions are good. A hook can't catch ya unless you bite down on it....you know what I mean? Which made me so happily aware of.....
#2- My husband didn't bite down ;) He handled it well, with grace and maturity and most importantly, awareness. Of all the times anyone has been nice and friendly with him, he was aware enough to admit this was a bit different, and even though he was 100% sure of what the other person was thinking or feeling, he knew enough about his boundaries and comfort level that he gave himself permission to admit "Something ain't right here..."
#3- Communication is KEY. The way we discussed this situation ultimately gave us a firm foundation of where our boundaries really do lie. I asked him certain questions (No, not about what she was weraing LOL!!) but "What questions made you uncomfortable." He listed several and I pointed out that most of these seemed rather benign and just normal curiosity, until he got the few about ME and our marriage and we both came to an agreement that if someone of the opposite sex is flattering us, sharing personal information about their lives and THEN starts asking us if we are "happy" with each other, we are shutting them down. Anything else, we feel like is normal human interaction. Poking a stick into our "marital happiness" is a line we aren't going to allow anyone to cross because it's not the appropriate venue to discuss marital issues. If we have an issue with each other, an opposite sex kindafriend isn't the right outlet to discuss these things and the bottom line for us was this. After 16 years of marriage, this is the first time we've ever even TRIED to define this and I felt like it was this huge "wow" moment. I feel so secure knowing that we both agree on this...and that outside that, we can share whatever we wish freely with those we like to talk to.
And so, there was a lot to be learned from something so simply and that's how I roll. My BFF laughed at me though and pointed something out yesterday, "Well Melissa, you've sort of mentioned y'all are in therapy and getting counseling...and you know...there might be people who really think this is what it's about..and that Jamie is a big fat cheater and this is what the problem is..." And I laughed. She's right, but really..no y'all, that's not what the counseling is about and since I am an open book, and have had a couple weeks to process it all, I'll share a bit about what's going on (if you haven't fallen asleep reading this yet!!!)
So Jamie started counseling on November 1st and after that first appointment, we have gone every week since then together. And I know most people think "Counseling??? OMG, what HAPPENED???" and that might be a bit disappointing to those who love juicy gossip because it's really not that interesting.
One word: Stress. Like over the top, all consuming, life altering and almost shattering stress.
But let's back up a little bit. Most people know Jamie has a job that's high stress and high stakes. Ordinarily, he handles it well. But if you remember all my posts about him not being able to remember how to tie his shoes and forgetting everything all the time, while in class, understand this has been building. Also, in the mix is that Jamie has always done excellent at every single thing he has attempted and he's done this without maximum effort. He's never taken anything lightly, but when he got his almost perfect GPA in Nuclear Engineering (in a TOUGH program!) he was also a supervisor in a high stakes job, still a hands on dad and even did math in our homeschooling back then. During those years we moved three times, went through the death our son, his grandmother and his mother, had some major family falling out, a lawsuit to content with and hey, even had three babies. Holy schmoly...and he still did AWESOME. Awesome grades, awards at work, no complaints from me or his children about his role and importance in our life. He was juggling all the balls and doing it well.
With this job...he put in MAXIMUM effort, and still didn't perform the best. He made it through. He made the right grades and got through this round of training, but he morphed before my very eyes. At first it was just supreme forgetfulness. Then it became him just completely going zombie. He wasn't exercising, or playing his banjo, or really doing anything he enjoyed. Just sort of existing and I HATED it. I knew the clock was ticking and eventually he'd be done and we'd be fine, but it was still going downhill.
I knew it wasn't okay when he started saying things to me like "I hate it when you put me down..." when I'd say "Hey can you throw your shorts in the drawer instead of the rack? I made a space for them..." Normal Jamie would have said to me "I just left them out so you'd know...I wasn't wearing them....(wink, wink) Normal Jamie made a joke, most often sexual, at pretty much everything I said and I'd give it right back to him "I just left the light switch on...so you'd know...how turned ON I am...get it? Hahahah..." And this banter between us completely stopped. He said I was "belittling...making me feel like a child...you really don't respect me do you?" And as much as I wanted this to piss me off, I knew what was happening. Although not a therapist or anything near as smart, I asked him a question one day, calmly 'You really think I am putting you down Jamie?" He answered "Yes..." and I asked another "Do you feel like it's just me...or do you feel like that with anyone else..." and his lips, pursed together...answered "Yeah, every effing day at work I'm told I'm not good enough...nothing is ever good enough...no matter how hard I try..." And it was like yep...bingo. I wasn't going to make an issue of it even though my heart just ached. I missed MY Jamie. My happy go lucky, everything is awesome, hey wanna go upstairs....Jamie....
Finally, on Halloween, some things came to light. He believed, with his every cell, that I was getting ready to leave him because I no longer loved him, respected him or wanted anything to do with him. Looking back I know exactly what conversation pushed him over the edge, and ironically, this conversation was one where I said "So this one issue we are having...now that school is over...I want to work on it. It's been holding us back for a long time and I feel so ready....to just get passed it." And he completely and totally, repeating this conversation back to me, heard NOTHING positive from that even though saying these words, my heart was light and hopeful and feeling nothing but love towards him. He was at rock bottom. Or so we thought....
He went to a counseling appointment on Friday and it sparked a LOT of conversation and I thought, "Dude, FINALLY!!!" and we were both so hopeful and happy. It was (it is) time to examine who Jamie sees himself as...as opposed to what the rest of the world sees him as (an awesome dude, he really, really is...)
Then the following Sunday he had to leave on a business trip and it was absolute torture for both of us. We just got out of this stupid ass zombie training and he had to leave us and we just wanted to BE TOGETHER. He got home on a Friday evening and a very, very, VERY stupid argument between us (about texting and driving....dumb. It wasn't a big issue) had us separated from each other and all he needed was for me to tell him it would be okay. I chose not to. I chose to pout because all the feelings for months and months and months were welling up inside of me and I was just so mad that MY JAMIE was lost for now and I wasn't even mad at him really, but I was hurt. He said I need you...and I said I need to be alone...just for a minute. Looking back, his tone, his demeanor, his everything was beaten and broken. I finally got over myself and realized....he needs me. So I went outside to talk to him and said "okay...let's just go upstairs, we'll lay down together, get some rest and start fresh tomorrow morning ok?" Apparently, he didn't hear me (common theme here) and so he did NOT follow me upstairs. It was only ten minutes....I came back to see what he was doing...and he had a whiskey bottle in his hand...that was full (I asked him to buy it last winter for Kyle who was coughing to the point of vomiting, so only like a splash was used..)....half empty. In TEN MINUTES he had downed half the bottle. He doesn't drink.....
It only took a few more minutes for the effects to start showing up and in my entire life I have never, ever been so terrified. He wasn't making any sense, he wouldn't answer me if he was okay, he was just dazed and confused (oh yeah, brilliantly he had also refused to eat dinner....) He stumbled around, got himself some water and then the vomiting started. Violent....horrific....it wouldn't stop and...I panicked. I have never, in all my 35 years ever seen a person drunk. I had no idea what it looked like...what was too much, would he DIE?? I was crying until I couldn't breathe, beating myself up, not sure what to do....so I called 911. I wasn't going to lose my husband and I had no idea what the consequences would be, but I knew none of them mattered....only he mattered. (All kids but Kyle were in bed at this point...) And so the paramedics came and it was an odd mixture of relief and supreme humiliation as they checked him and kind of looked at me like "You called 911 for this??" Turns out, he was simply drunk. Not in danger, not going to die from alcohol poisoning...and him not being used to alcohol....and not eating, just made him sicker and sicker. Long story short, this was his rock bottom and the next day, he was a humble mess of "what the hell" and "never again" He was SO SICK, but he had just simply had all the shit he could take.
The next day, we were in emergency counseling and it was intense. The long and short of it was Jamie had reached the point of not caring. Our counselor assured me this was not some great crisis where my husband was now going to turn to alcohol, that this wasn't about that at all, that he was honestly in a very good place mentally (WHAT?) and that we were headed in the right direction...we were there...we recognized how scary it was and neither one of us was making excuses, just wanted to be okay. So we had this intense session and I learned some things that brought tears to my eyes. The counselor told me he had never encountered someone as honest as my husband...that it was very rare and that his love and need for me was intense....
So that's what's been going on. We have some work to do on the stress, how to deal, how NOT to deal and how to KEEP TALKING and LOVING. Our second appointment, our counselor said even more things that choked me up. He told us that at our last appointment, people that had seen us...at our LOWEST point were commenting on what a "sweet couple" we were. He pointed out that this may not mean a lot to us, but as a counselor he was in awe that in our worst place, our love for each other was that visible to the outside world. He said we were in better shape than "99%" of the couples he counsels and that we aren't in the realm of "trouble" that as a matter of fact we have one of the strongest marriages he has been witness to. I know that might sound all fruity and flowery, but y'all, this is a professional who sees so many people and his words mean a lot to me. To hear out loud...that we really are strongly in love and not going to lose this thing that is so precious to us means the world to me. I was totally at a loss over the last few months thinking "Why does Jamie see me as this person I am not.." and on the flip side him thinking "She is done..she hates me....I am worth nothing..." Our counselor is working on this with us hardcore and Jamie has thrived in hearing someone else talk to me and then say to HIM "Do you hear her words? Jamie, seriously....there is nothing about what she is saying that says ANYTHING about ever wanting to be away from you...ever...she has ZERO intention of going anywhere...do you understand that..." Hearing that...in a non-bullshit environment, from someone who has seen marriages completely implode has given him a hope that I can't really put into words. He finally KNOWS. That is something he has been saying so much..."For the first time, I really see you....how much you've stood by me and how that meant LOVE...you REALLY, REALLY love me....how could I not see that before?"
So our mission in counseling is to separate work/home....for Jamie to derive his sense of self in who he TRULY is and not in these meaningless things that ultimately do nothing for him. He has a lifelong history of being told 'Not good enough...' and that is no longer going to fly. He has always been way more than 'good enough...' and he's going to see that. Besides our counselor is hilarious and totally gets our sense of humor, so it's been very easy to share some personal things that I swore I would never tell ANYONE in the entire world. I shared something kind of embarrassing last week (explaining how I uhm....helped Jamie with stress) and the dude was like "OMG....I LOVE THAT...I LOVE that you said that...that's awesome..." and it relieved a lot of embarrassment and stress for me, who cringes at sharing private stuff. The smile on his face...on Jamies (and I swear, they were trying really hard not to high five...I just FELT it...) was really...what's the word? Lightening...it made me feel like a huge weight was lifted. Like I can really express who I REALLY am and not be judged or even disliked (he did say he was suprised at something I said, that was mean and dirty about someone else...like he couldn't believe I had a dirty mouth...now that's out in the open and that's also a relief!)
And so yeah, that's what's up. I think I get an award for longest blog post ever!!!!
Let me recap for you. Many, many months ago (I'm thinking it was well over a year ago actually) Jamie brought home "cookies" (they were actually muffins) from a gal at work, that she made him as a thank you for changing her tire, which was flat. I didn't love it then and yet, nothing really came out of it. I laughed it off and gave them to the kids and it was done, but then...
In the past couple of weeks, as we've gone through counseling (more on that below) she was brought up again, not by me, but by Jamie. He explained this girl had gotten increasingly more friendly as the months went on, asking personal questions and sharing her own personal details, to a point where my husband felt it was bordering on inappropriate. This came up as we were discussing what marriage means and what boundaries were there and what we COULD "give" other people while saving our most precious selves for each other. This was a philosophical discussion, not at all an argument, but I told him how weird it was for me that the cookie thing was unsettling for me in light of all the food that's ever been brought home from other people (there's been a lot! Jamie loves food and people love him, so we've been gifted very often with yumminess!) and how I wondered, what that intuition on my part? I found that idea fascinating.
I've been told I'm "blowing it out of proportion" or "giving her more power" and to this I've kind of been like "What? Seriously? Do you even understand what is happening here?" and I will say I strongly disagree with this line of thinking. Blowing this out of proportion would mean something entirely different...like accusing my husband of doing something wrong (never happened), thinking this person was this major threat in my life (I don't....more on that below) or being so upset and worried that I couldn't see the lesson in all this (and I do...) And giving her power? Not really. I wasn't concerned with how often my husband saw her on a weekly basis, or what she looked like, or really anything about her, but I will say once he had the 'These are my lines talk" and she blatantly ignored him and started sharing even MORE personal information, that is when the indignation came into play and not because she was a threat to my marriage, but because....well...as dumb as it sounds, it was rude. And y'all...that is my MO on any and every situation I run across. The lady yelling at me at the gas pump to buy her gas? Same reaction. I posted on Facebook, laughed about it, pondered what on earth made this women think she could/should do that....and any number of interactions I've had with people on this planet who seemed to have been absent in the "Normal Human Behavior 101" class :) What blew my mind wasn't that she had "caused problems" in someone else's marriage (again, see below) it was that after the "Dude TMI..." she shared...MORE TMI. Right now, I'm grinning ear to ear about the irony of it, but honestly....that is not giving anyone "too much power" that is just being introspective and inquisitive about human behavior and in that, I'm guilty as charged. I could list 100 things that have happened in the last year alone that have made me...O.O.....
And as always is the case in my life, I've learned a whole lot from "Cookie Girl" and the conversations with my husband and friends surrounding her, and have a few more "life tidbits" to add to my collection that I'm quite pleased to have ;) Things I've learned through this:
#1- There isn't a one person who is a "threat to marriage" if that marriage is good to begin with. I am not concerned with Cookie Girl's intentions because no matter what they were....without my husband "taking the bait" it's a moot point. She could have baked those in a silky nightie, chanting a love spell and adding some special aphrodisiac to the mix for all I know (or care) In the end, no matter what HER intentions are, it's only my husband's that matter in the mix of our relationship. No one else's intentions can harm US, if OUR intentions are good. A hook can't catch ya unless you bite down on it....you know what I mean? Which made me so happily aware of.....
#2- My husband didn't bite down ;) He handled it well, with grace and maturity and most importantly, awareness. Of all the times anyone has been nice and friendly with him, he was aware enough to admit this was a bit different, and even though he was 100% sure of what the other person was thinking or feeling, he knew enough about his boundaries and comfort level that he gave himself permission to admit "Something ain't right here..."
#3- Communication is KEY. The way we discussed this situation ultimately gave us a firm foundation of where our boundaries really do lie. I asked him certain questions (No, not about what she was weraing LOL!!) but "What questions made you uncomfortable." He listed several and I pointed out that most of these seemed rather benign and just normal curiosity, until he got the few about ME and our marriage and we both came to an agreement that if someone of the opposite sex is flattering us, sharing personal information about their lives and THEN starts asking us if we are "happy" with each other, we are shutting them down. Anything else, we feel like is normal human interaction. Poking a stick into our "marital happiness" is a line we aren't going to allow anyone to cross because it's not the appropriate venue to discuss marital issues. If we have an issue with each other, an opposite sex kindafriend isn't the right outlet to discuss these things and the bottom line for us was this. After 16 years of marriage, this is the first time we've ever even TRIED to define this and I felt like it was this huge "wow" moment. I feel so secure knowing that we both agree on this...and that outside that, we can share whatever we wish freely with those we like to talk to.
And so, there was a lot to be learned from something so simply and that's how I roll. My BFF laughed at me though and pointed something out yesterday, "Well Melissa, you've sort of mentioned y'all are in therapy and getting counseling...and you know...there might be people who really think this is what it's about..and that Jamie is a big fat cheater and this is what the problem is..." And I laughed. She's right, but really..no y'all, that's not what the counseling is about and since I am an open book, and have had a couple weeks to process it all, I'll share a bit about what's going on (if you haven't fallen asleep reading this yet!!!)
So Jamie started counseling on November 1st and after that first appointment, we have gone every week since then together. And I know most people think "Counseling??? OMG, what HAPPENED???" and that might be a bit disappointing to those who love juicy gossip because it's really not that interesting.
One word: Stress. Like over the top, all consuming, life altering and almost shattering stress.
But let's back up a little bit. Most people know Jamie has a job that's high stress and high stakes. Ordinarily, he handles it well. But if you remember all my posts about him not being able to remember how to tie his shoes and forgetting everything all the time, while in class, understand this has been building. Also, in the mix is that Jamie has always done excellent at every single thing he has attempted and he's done this without maximum effort. He's never taken anything lightly, but when he got his almost perfect GPA in Nuclear Engineering (in a TOUGH program!) he was also a supervisor in a high stakes job, still a hands on dad and even did math in our homeschooling back then. During those years we moved three times, went through the death our son, his grandmother and his mother, had some major family falling out, a lawsuit to content with and hey, even had three babies. Holy schmoly...and he still did AWESOME. Awesome grades, awards at work, no complaints from me or his children about his role and importance in our life. He was juggling all the balls and doing it well.
With this job...he put in MAXIMUM effort, and still didn't perform the best. He made it through. He made the right grades and got through this round of training, but he morphed before my very eyes. At first it was just supreme forgetfulness. Then it became him just completely going zombie. He wasn't exercising, or playing his banjo, or really doing anything he enjoyed. Just sort of existing and I HATED it. I knew the clock was ticking and eventually he'd be done and we'd be fine, but it was still going downhill.
I knew it wasn't okay when he started saying things to me like "I hate it when you put me down..." when I'd say "Hey can you throw your shorts in the drawer instead of the rack? I made a space for them..." Normal Jamie would have said to me "I just left them out so you'd know...I wasn't wearing them....(wink, wink) Normal Jamie made a joke, most often sexual, at pretty much everything I said and I'd give it right back to him "I just left the light switch on...so you'd know...how turned ON I am...get it? Hahahah..." And this banter between us completely stopped. He said I was "belittling...making me feel like a child...you really don't respect me do you?" And as much as I wanted this to piss me off, I knew what was happening. Although not a therapist or anything near as smart, I asked him a question one day, calmly 'You really think I am putting you down Jamie?" He answered "Yes..." and I asked another "Do you feel like it's just me...or do you feel like that with anyone else..." and his lips, pursed together...answered "Yeah, every effing day at work I'm told I'm not good enough...nothing is ever good enough...no matter how hard I try..." And it was like yep...bingo. I wasn't going to make an issue of it even though my heart just ached. I missed MY Jamie. My happy go lucky, everything is awesome, hey wanna go upstairs....Jamie....
Finally, on Halloween, some things came to light. He believed, with his every cell, that I was getting ready to leave him because I no longer loved him, respected him or wanted anything to do with him. Looking back I know exactly what conversation pushed him over the edge, and ironically, this conversation was one where I said "So this one issue we are having...now that school is over...I want to work on it. It's been holding us back for a long time and I feel so ready....to just get passed it." And he completely and totally, repeating this conversation back to me, heard NOTHING positive from that even though saying these words, my heart was light and hopeful and feeling nothing but love towards him. He was at rock bottom. Or so we thought....
He went to a counseling appointment on Friday and it sparked a LOT of conversation and I thought, "Dude, FINALLY!!!" and we were both so hopeful and happy. It was (it is) time to examine who Jamie sees himself as...as opposed to what the rest of the world sees him as (an awesome dude, he really, really is...)
Then the following Sunday he had to leave on a business trip and it was absolute torture for both of us. We just got out of this stupid ass zombie training and he had to leave us and we just wanted to BE TOGETHER. He got home on a Friday evening and a very, very, VERY stupid argument between us (about texting and driving....dumb. It wasn't a big issue) had us separated from each other and all he needed was for me to tell him it would be okay. I chose not to. I chose to pout because all the feelings for months and months and months were welling up inside of me and I was just so mad that MY JAMIE was lost for now and I wasn't even mad at him really, but I was hurt. He said I need you...and I said I need to be alone...just for a minute. Looking back, his tone, his demeanor, his everything was beaten and broken. I finally got over myself and realized....he needs me. So I went outside to talk to him and said "okay...let's just go upstairs, we'll lay down together, get some rest and start fresh tomorrow morning ok?" Apparently, he didn't hear me (common theme here) and so he did NOT follow me upstairs. It was only ten minutes....I came back to see what he was doing...and he had a whiskey bottle in his hand...that was full (I asked him to buy it last winter for Kyle who was coughing to the point of vomiting, so only like a splash was used..)....half empty. In TEN MINUTES he had downed half the bottle. He doesn't drink.....
It only took a few more minutes for the effects to start showing up and in my entire life I have never, ever been so terrified. He wasn't making any sense, he wouldn't answer me if he was okay, he was just dazed and confused (oh yeah, brilliantly he had also refused to eat dinner....) He stumbled around, got himself some water and then the vomiting started. Violent....horrific....it wouldn't stop and...I panicked. I have never, in all my 35 years ever seen a person drunk. I had no idea what it looked like...what was too much, would he DIE?? I was crying until I couldn't breathe, beating myself up, not sure what to do....so I called 911. I wasn't going to lose my husband and I had no idea what the consequences would be, but I knew none of them mattered....only he mattered. (All kids but Kyle were in bed at this point...) And so the paramedics came and it was an odd mixture of relief and supreme humiliation as they checked him and kind of looked at me like "You called 911 for this??" Turns out, he was simply drunk. Not in danger, not going to die from alcohol poisoning...and him not being used to alcohol....and not eating, just made him sicker and sicker. Long story short, this was his rock bottom and the next day, he was a humble mess of "what the hell" and "never again" He was SO SICK, but he had just simply had all the shit he could take.
The next day, we were in emergency counseling and it was intense. The long and short of it was Jamie had reached the point of not caring. Our counselor assured me this was not some great crisis where my husband was now going to turn to alcohol, that this wasn't about that at all, that he was honestly in a very good place mentally (WHAT?) and that we were headed in the right direction...we were there...we recognized how scary it was and neither one of us was making excuses, just wanted to be okay. So we had this intense session and I learned some things that brought tears to my eyes. The counselor told me he had never encountered someone as honest as my husband...that it was very rare and that his love and need for me was intense....
So that's what's been going on. We have some work to do on the stress, how to deal, how NOT to deal and how to KEEP TALKING and LOVING. Our second appointment, our counselor said even more things that choked me up. He told us that at our last appointment, people that had seen us...at our LOWEST point were commenting on what a "sweet couple" we were. He pointed out that this may not mean a lot to us, but as a counselor he was in awe that in our worst place, our love for each other was that visible to the outside world. He said we were in better shape than "99%" of the couples he counsels and that we aren't in the realm of "trouble" that as a matter of fact we have one of the strongest marriages he has been witness to. I know that might sound all fruity and flowery, but y'all, this is a professional who sees so many people and his words mean a lot to me. To hear out loud...that we really are strongly in love and not going to lose this thing that is so precious to us means the world to me. I was totally at a loss over the last few months thinking "Why does Jamie see me as this person I am not.." and on the flip side him thinking "She is done..she hates me....I am worth nothing..." Our counselor is working on this with us hardcore and Jamie has thrived in hearing someone else talk to me and then say to HIM "Do you hear her words? Jamie, seriously....there is nothing about what she is saying that says ANYTHING about ever wanting to be away from you...ever...she has ZERO intention of going anywhere...do you understand that..." Hearing that...in a non-bullshit environment, from someone who has seen marriages completely implode has given him a hope that I can't really put into words. He finally KNOWS. That is something he has been saying so much..."For the first time, I really see you....how much you've stood by me and how that meant LOVE...you REALLY, REALLY love me....how could I not see that before?"
So our mission in counseling is to separate work/home....for Jamie to derive his sense of self in who he TRULY is and not in these meaningless things that ultimately do nothing for him. He has a lifelong history of being told 'Not good enough...' and that is no longer going to fly. He has always been way more than 'good enough...' and he's going to see that. Besides our counselor is hilarious and totally gets our sense of humor, so it's been very easy to share some personal things that I swore I would never tell ANYONE in the entire world. I shared something kind of embarrassing last week (explaining how I uhm....helped Jamie with stress) and the dude was like "OMG....I LOVE THAT...I LOVE that you said that...that's awesome..." and it relieved a lot of embarrassment and stress for me, who cringes at sharing private stuff. The smile on his face...on Jamies (and I swear, they were trying really hard not to high five...I just FELT it...) was really...what's the word? Lightening...it made me feel like a huge weight was lifted. Like I can really express who I REALLY am and not be judged or even disliked (he did say he was suprised at something I said, that was mean and dirty about someone else...like he couldn't believe I had a dirty mouth...now that's out in the open and that's also a relief!)
And so yeah, that's what's up. I think I get an award for longest blog post ever!!!!
Monday, November 11, 2013
Not gone, just buried
One statistic that is mighty depressing: Most marriages do not survive the loss of a child. I knew this back when it mattered, back when we could have made the decision to safe guard our marriage and do everything we could to keep communication open and feelings shared and all that good stuff. It was highly recommended by those who loved us, but there we were...stuck. No one to watch our children (NO ONE..that's what happens when your circle shuns you for your choices...those that devastated you)....no way to get just the two of us to the place we needed to be. Plus, we had so many other distractions. A death in the family right after, a fall out with another, a decision to not adopt our foster children, college, work, homeschool...life....We'd be okay, right? I mean WE didn't die...just our baby. We'd be just fine. We'd beat those odds.
And we did.
The next baby came along and we didn't think about the last. He as a he. She was a she. Everything we did for her was for HER. Every outfit, every cloth diaper, every little thing we did centered around her being a her and enjoying this precious blessing that filled empty hearts and empty arms.
After her, HE came and that hit us hard. It may not make any sense, but when you're washing the he clothes for the first time since you lost him it's way, way different and emotions surfaced that we didn't love and didn't know what to do with. He came, and then 6 days later Jamie was off to his job interview and our new life a million miles away....new job, new life, new house, new everything....was the center of our focus. New beginnings, far, far away from the sadness we experienced. No time to think about the son we lost while taking care of the one we didn't. We were fine, really....
Then she came along and was and is the most precious, sweet, loveable baby we've ever had. Or maybe just that much more precious because once more, we skirted tragedy and ended up with what we wanted: healthy baby, free of defect or sickness...to love again. But this time around, my ultrasound produced a panic attack so heavy, it was hard to breathe. I just knew they'd find something wrong. So relieved when they didn't and so happy when she was born just as we imagined. And we were fine. No, really just FINE.
And now we're not and have to face the fact we never were. Because burying something that isn't ready to be buried and not properly prepared to be buried has consequences you can't see until those consequences are so huge that they can no longer be ignored.
And finally, maybe....no definitely, we really are going to be fine. For real. Forever. We needed help. We're getting it. We have sat on a cushy couch in a pretty office and been told we have an excellent marriage. I've been told that my husband is one of the most honest men our counselor has ever met and that he loves me more than most other husbands love their wives. And we've been told....to beat these odds says something about the strength of our love for each other and our commitment to being us, forever.
We have so much work to do. So many things to sort through and it should suck. It should suck more than anything, but it doesn't. It's real and honest and raw and for the first time in a long, long time, I feel like the world isn't this place to just survive...it's a place to truly live.
And we did.
The next baby came along and we didn't think about the last. He as a he. She was a she. Everything we did for her was for HER. Every outfit, every cloth diaper, every little thing we did centered around her being a her and enjoying this precious blessing that filled empty hearts and empty arms.
After her, HE came and that hit us hard. It may not make any sense, but when you're washing the he clothes for the first time since you lost him it's way, way different and emotions surfaced that we didn't love and didn't know what to do with. He came, and then 6 days later Jamie was off to his job interview and our new life a million miles away....new job, new life, new house, new everything....was the center of our focus. New beginnings, far, far away from the sadness we experienced. No time to think about the son we lost while taking care of the one we didn't. We were fine, really....
Then she came along and was and is the most precious, sweet, loveable baby we've ever had. Or maybe just that much more precious because once more, we skirted tragedy and ended up with what we wanted: healthy baby, free of defect or sickness...to love again. But this time around, my ultrasound produced a panic attack so heavy, it was hard to breathe. I just knew they'd find something wrong. So relieved when they didn't and so happy when she was born just as we imagined. And we were fine. No, really just FINE.
And now we're not and have to face the fact we never were. Because burying something that isn't ready to be buried and not properly prepared to be buried has consequences you can't see until those consequences are so huge that they can no longer be ignored.
And finally, maybe....no definitely, we really are going to be fine. For real. Forever. We needed help. We're getting it. We have sat on a cushy couch in a pretty office and been told we have an excellent marriage. I've been told that my husband is one of the most honest men our counselor has ever met and that he loves me more than most other husbands love their wives. And we've been told....to beat these odds says something about the strength of our love for each other and our commitment to being us, forever.
We have so much work to do. So many things to sort through and it should suck. It should suck more than anything, but it doesn't. It's real and honest and raw and for the first time in a long, long time, I feel like the world isn't this place to just survive...it's a place to truly live.
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