PSA: Tips on Leaving Voicemail

After the beep, leave information that is concrete. It's not necessary to leave a frantic message with the cryptic "Call me back please" just to ask if I received the pictures you downloaded last night.

Further to that, if you want the name of the shoe store "where we got the purple crocs last fall" you can ALSO leave that as a message.

It goes something like this:
"Hi, it's me, Carla. Can you give me a call back. I'm looking for the name of the shoe store we went to last fall. The one where we got the purple crocs."

instead of:
"Hi. Its Carla" breathe heavily, frantically "I need you to call me right away. I have a question I need to ask you."

It's unnecessarily dramatic for a voicemail.

Coffee Talk

A actual conversation, or what passes as one.
This morning, 7am

Husband: leaving late for work, peering outwindow, observationally: "Oh, Steve's up early."
Wife: "Yeah, he goes to breakfast everyday. The Captains Place."
Husband: "I thought that was only sometimes."
Wife: "Nope, everyday."
Husband: "Huh" pause "Ahoy Matey" (waving to Steves truck)
Wife: "Thar he Goooooes"
Husband: "Aye Aye"
Wife: "YAR!"

The Final Straw... My Letter As Sent To My Mother...

I’m sorry that I lost my temper. In thinking about it I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m pretty angry. I think the conversation triggered an issue I have with you – with me about you. I can’t help but get mad at you for what I perceive as a lack of ownership as to how your actions and thoughts impact your reality.

I’m sorry that Laurie sending you the medal brought up feelings of sadness – and loss. Loss of what you want and desire in relationships with your grandchildren. And too, it must feel to you like “Why? Why am I on the outside looking in.”

Through the years I’ve tried to talk to you. And at times tried to cushion you from pain. I have tried to guide you to realizations that in part, your actions play a role. But you have assumed I was blaming you. Im not. One of the things you learn in business, and in therapy, and in life – is that at times you have to cope with what’s in front of you – as it is – not as you want it – and that from that, you create the best possible outcome. And given a choice, at every choice, you seem to always pick them one that will inflame the situation.

While I felt bad that you felt upset, - I even told you how stupid I thought she was - I wanted to illustrate to you that sending BACK the token seemed reactionary, and yes, childish. And that fuels what is bad in your life – not good. I know you tend to hold on to that boomer post therapy mantra that “you need to do what’s right for you and why should Laurie hurt you but not you her” but that is so so typical of YOUR generation. You guys are stuck in the “I need to do what’s right for me” and yet you wonder how you raised a generation or what you perceive as people not doing what’s right for the whole.

In part YOU need to rise above things FOR YOU. Not because you owe it to Laurie because at what point can you acknowledge that you were not included or don’t have the relationship based in part on who YOU are. Accepting that is painful but lashing out, blaming, and pointing fingers without ever having the introspection to see your own part – is, well, not something I am going to continue to support.

People choose the relationship they have with people. As soon as you recognize that YES, people disappoint – and that you make a meal out of the leftovers – that’s when you’ll be happy. Every relationship I have is not fair, or good, but I let it be for the sake of having at least SOME relationships. Im not going to point out how I think your relationships could be cultivated because we have had, and hashed, that conversation – but I also am at a loss for what is a safe topic zone for us. I know you are hurt by the lack of a decent relationship with Bill and Melissa kids – blaming her that there is no relationship – but although she started it, your actions then contributed to it. You can’t acknowledge that its in your power to change it, and you don’t like the cost of doing so or the feelings of rejection around it.

The simple fact is over the last several years, I think you settled into a reality that places you as an outsider, and you as the victim. You are always well intentioned and you want to be seen that way, but you seem incapable of jumping into the shoes of those around you. To a degree, you desire that everyone treat you a certain way but appear unable to reciprocate. You cannot accept criticism, or blame. And even well intentioned suggestions – because honest to god your perfume IS too strong – are scorned. You disrespect what others ask of you (I say “please don’t do this and you say I’ll do whatever I want” then laugh -) You disrespect others opinions – yet demand people respect you

Im at a loss for how to say this so I’ll speak plainly. I don’t want to be a part of our relationship any longer. I take no pleasure and no comfort in it. As much as you feel sad about what you don’t have in your relationships, I too feel sad that my mother is who she is and that I don’t have the relationship that I want. I don’t like the way you act, and I don’t agree with how you think. You are a good warm funny kind person but all that is buried under these layers of anger, defensiveness and bitterness.

You point to the fact that we aren’t there because “This generation doesn’t respect their parents” You need to respect people to get respect. I hate talking to you because – for one, you are so so disrespectful of people. Of me, of peoples opinions, of others thoughts – feelings. Its so rare to have a glimpse of the soft, fun, personable you. For example - You have talked endlessly about things I have no interest in but I listen and talk about it with you. In fact, it’s ridiculous but when I picked you up at the airport you talked for 25 SOLID minutes (I started looking at the clock) about Danielle, her wedding, every minute detail down to the food – and when I interjected at 28 minutes about my life you actually said “This isn’t ABOUT you, we are the ones that went away.” A relationship isn’t a monologue. Its not about listening to you talk about your life, your job, your travel plans, your house renovations and your interests. It feels like you have no REAL interest in other peoples lives and when you DO ask me about something, and I tell you how I feel, you proceed to devils advocate and point out the other side.

Over 7 years ago, when I lived in W**d on E** Street, I told you our relationship was in jeopardy and that it needed to change. I’ve had therapy And I think that it might be time for YOU to consider talking to someone too.Not because of ME – but because I think I see IN YOU the need for it. And I don’t think I’m alone.

I don’t know. I feel bad. I know there are so many good things about you – you sense of humor, your love of silly things, the way you play with Ellie on the floor, with ALL the grandkids. That you like beaches, and North Conway. I see an awesome person I’d love to spend time with – but in your mind, there is so much shit. It’s a landmine. And its just not easy to be authentic with you because you REALLY and I mean REALLY wont look at reality. You and I aren’t capable of having a good or honest relationship and I think it’s you now, not me.

I think for the last several years I’ve “shown up” because I am trying to protect you, I don’t want you to feel the pain of not having relationships, or holidays, or whatever. But as you know, seven years ago I asked for change, and even more recently. And you are the same. So I hold you at an arms length because YOU are unable to be truthful with yourself. And to be fair, you don’t really want it to be better. You just want the trappings. The dinners, the vacations together, the obligatory holidays. You just want us to toe the line. Im not going to do that anymore. Im not coming for Christmas. I don’t want to. It isn’t my job to show up at every occasion, birthday, holiday etc because no one else does and try to “create” the illusion of a family event. It’s not fair to me, or to Doug. And I’m sorry. And I don’t value the time together any longer because our relationship just isn’t that good. I don’t want to be in it – and its not possible to work on it any longer.

When you moved to NJ, you said “Ive paid my dues, it’s my turn now. You kids will grow up and leave, I need to put my husband first” Understand that it’s my turn now. I’ve paid my dues.. I’ve come up when others haven’t. I’ve tried to make up for the fact that your other kids have been shitty. But its not fair to me. I thought years ago that it was worth having a relationship and that Id just set boundaries – and I thought too that once you felt the wall, youd feel the loss and maybe get help. Or ask why you were shut out. But you didn’t. And now, sadly, I just am at a crossroads. I don’t want to fight with you but I’m not interested in being in this totally fake cant say anything relationship. You like who you are and you don’t want to change. I don’t like who you are becoming and I’m not interested in being in a relationship UNLESS you change. So we are at an impasse.

As far as coming for Halloween, that’s too bad. For you. Again, you are making the wrong choice I invited you to share what I’ve created here, to be a part of a nice holiday. I invited you to partake in something that was about Doug Ellie and I - to reach out to you and have you share in a “family” thing like you are always wanting to create. You want to lash out because you are angry.. So what have you gained? You’ve isolated yourself further. Is that what you wanted?

Listen – I think you were acting like a baby. A huge baby. A pain in the ass baby. That’s the facts. And maybe if I didn’t bite my tongue so often, I could have let it go. But I didn’t. So the cat is out of the bag, and the milk is spilled and perhaps this is for the best.

But just so you know, I’m not planning on calling or reconnecting this year. I think you should consider getting therapy and I have a terrific referral for a practice in Winchester. If you go, I’ll go with you. But otherwise, I’m not going to reconnect this year. I’ll email you after January 1, 2010 to see where we are.

That's ok, Sometimes Things Happen

I'm sitting at the table eating my third Reeses Peanut Butter Cup.
Wait, I'll be right back.
Make that my fourth.

And very likely I'm going to regret it.

Considering I just chased a bowl of cold pasta, tossed with tuna, sweet relish, mustard, celery and mayo. At 8:30. When I had popcorn at 7:30. and I think RitzCrackers with peanut butter at 7:00. Just after the spoonful of sauce I had at 5. Which followed oh, something or other at 3. Was it salad? I think it was.

I should feel bad. In fact I do feel bad.
Because it's wholly repugnant and shows a complete lack of respect for myself - and the myriad yet shortening hours at the gym I've spent since August 1. With nary a pound off and only slightly firmer thighs.

I also feel bad that I'm sneaking a post in when Ellie is clearly UP watching wonderpets, without a bath, with a proper bedtime story, awake. Something I will, in fact, pay for tomorrow.

Her Halloween costume for tomorrows parade is ...somewhere. As is the glass of water I pour but never drink, and I think very likely I owe somebody somewhere an email and a call back. I also need to figure out a primary care physician tomorrow and why the list won't download off the physician site, and I should check exactly when we got the first of her two flu shots, who the contact is at SBLI my husband used and how I can tie my auto insurance to his at Progressive. I wonder how I can create outfits for her two skirts I impulsively bought full price at the Childrens Place and never returned thus finally took the tags off. There is laundry needing to be folded, and other laundry to be put away, and a box of craft supplies in the car from last weeks church group.

And instead of moving forward, I ate.
Ate and ate to no good effect because it was simpler and quicker then making a real meal. So I snacked through five thousand calories. In one day.

Instead of doing anything productive, worthwhile or that would make me feel better.

And you know what.
That's fine.

Because tomorrow is another day.
And it's actually ok.
Because sometimes things happen.

You Are Not Alone

My sister's sense of humor is notable.

For it's quirkiness, for her straightman to your clown, for the fastest barb in the west. She changes her ringtones to suit her, and your, mood. For a while her phone rang with the dulcet lisp of her 4 year old (now 7) chirping "Oh shit, it's Daddy again" and a few moments in lifetime ago "You are Not Alone" by Micheal Jackson. Not because she needed a pep talk - but because , dammit, with two kids, two jobs, sports events, dance practices, and being the pied piper - the woman was, is, NEVER alone.

Which isn't my point at all. Nor will it even point to where I'm going next. It was just the title that struck me today.

Because I have a dirty little shameful secret that's not so shameful or secret.
I have - as I have said - something akin to jealousy for someone. For two someones in fact, but truly for one, someone I don't know.

I stumbled across her blog a year? Two years? ago and I read her, and another - man - almost exclusively. I follow a few of their friends via their blogrolls, I click, I loiter - but it's these two that I read religiously. Because they amaze me. I like them. I like them as people, I like them as writers. I like the way they think, I like who they are. I like the way they parent, the way they participate in life, and I like - very much - what they have to say, how they say it and how they frame it for the world around them.

When things go wrong (as they sometimes will...) I hide from these two writers. Why? I have no idea. I think because what consumes me is so small, and then I read them and feel smaller. They don't know if I read, if I'm looking, if I'm "listening" but I hide nonetheless because I realize that I'm petty. I'm less when I should be more. And just the narcissism of not bothering to READ someone elses viewpoint because you are too consumed with your own, is, for me, shameful.

So I've hid. I've avoided their blogs because they make me feel ashamed for not being a better version of myself. Their world expands while I'm consumed by narrow. And in trying to insulate myself from...pain for lack of a better word...the pain of being embarrassed, I shutting myself off from something that could instead inspire me.

So I struggle with that. the "Getting Over Myself" aspect of it. I get mad that instead of coming out I retreat in.

And then one day, I wake up stronger - and decide that I don't suck - that I feel human again, so I drag out my bookmarks - and I find them again.

And today I read that one of my two. Is. Depressed.
Chemically so.
And that she struggles too.

And I know that I walk through my life undiagnosed. I know that my issues are chemical, I know that it gets dark, then light again, and I fight it "on my own" but really if ever there were a candidate for medication, it would be me. And I think this hereditary battle is one that has been with me for so long that I can't conceptualize a life without it. But I know that the wagon wheel turns, that the ferris wheel of life has ups and downs, and that in the end, this too will pass - both the bad AND the good. So I push through. Sometimes head high, sometimes head down. Sometimes I stop other times I'm running. But most importantly, I move forward. And imagine my surprise when I saw that the blogger I very likely admire most - feels - ,in some ways, similar.

You are not alone.

So little blogger gal just so you know, I admire you in more ways then this post has words. And thank you for sharing.

"Right" Said Fred

After a riproaring night of my emasculating my husband over our nonexistent sex life

(this went something like...
Him: midsex Nah. I'm just not that interested. Are you tired?
Me: annoyed. am ovulating. supposed to procreate, his choice moreso then mine "Why do I always have to bring my 'A' game? Can't you be interested anyway???? I mean it's like pizza at a hockey rink. So it's not the best pizza but it's still food. I mean, unless your getting it somewhere else this is the only sex your getting so even if it's not that great you could still act interested..."
Him: sighing, eyes rolling "Right...

today I received The Company Store catalog

A feat unto itself, by the way, as I am on every "Do Not Direct Mail" list ever.

and I see the Holy Grail of Christmas gifts.
My must have.
My gimme gimme.

I see:
Which, of course, I run to price at Landsend.com and check to see if they have it in my sisters colors and size too. Ah, what could be nicer. The gift of softness, and with a hood too, in 6 "luscious" colors. Or is it colours when they are called "baked apple" and "otter"?

I love it.
I need it.
I must have it.

I start to build a weekend around it. I picture cozy night in, watching tv. Maybe some fuzzy socks, my knitting, some tea. Cuddling with Ellie.

Then I saw it.
In the far right corner.
And I realized "It's Not All Your Fault, Husband"



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My Horoscope

Group relations
Valid during several days:
During this time you tend to think about your goals and expectations in life. You will examine your ideals to find out exactly how well they have served you and to what extent you have attained them. You should also think about whether your goals are really your own or whether they are in part other people's goals that you have adopted for yourself. In the latter case, decide whether these goals are appropriate for you. At this time you need and will have more verbal and intellectual exchanges with friends and with other groups that you are associated with. Talking over your problems with friends will be especially helpful in reaching an objective viewpoint. But keep in mind that talking things over with friends cannot free you from prejudices and preconceptions that are held by the entire group.

I woke up this morning thinking "My husband is going to have a heart attack"
Not now, not lying next to me - but someday.
Because we eat late, we eat poorly, he sleeps terribly, his commute is awful, and our life is no fun.
Pretty heavy shit for 4am.

So I did what I always do.
I got up, went downstairs, and imposed order on our lives.
I took everything not related to food or food prep off the kitchen counters, washed dishes, then I baked.
I checked my online calendar - I stopped writing this post to send an email - I came back.
I canceled myself out of knitting tonight - why pay a sitter to knit when Ellie can just go to bed early and I'll be home when he gets here?

And I thought.
Then I looked up real estate closer to his office.
Because in as much as we may like our lives "up here" - at what cost? Commuting over 2 hours a day and locked into a pattern taht isn't rewarding. His getting up at 6, getting home at 6:30 does what for him? For me? To us? For who?

Lately I've been sad. Not depressed but struck dumb somehow by the familiar lament of why does everything seem so much work. Why are we having the same stresses, same conversations, same feelings and why aren't we moving past it.

Or more aptly said "What am I doing wrong?"

This morning it occurred to me that the mantra I've lived by - "the key to being happy is being happy with what you get" is teetering closely on codependent claptrap. If you have something that's not GOOD, reconciling yourself to it over and over, and failing to recognize that it just isn't working, well that's not really being happy with it. That's hiding from the fact that its not going to make you happy.

Oh sure would uprooting us be a good thing? Leaving friends, leaving the library, the schools, the community, the familiar. Is chucking it all so my husband can have better quality of days - maybe a gym in the morning, a less stressful commute on the way home - is that overall trading one issue for another? Possibly.

But we've given living this way, this life a chance and neither of us is enjoying it anymore. And it's insane to think that picking yourself up by the bootstraps each day, and "girding your loins" for a new day is changing things.

I keep thinking "maybe if I were more social, maybe if we did more social things, maybe if we weren't so insular, maybe if I was willing to fly" - I keep looking at what's not fun and I know with every fiber of my being that it's me. I'm not fun. I'm not adventurous. I'm a boring dull plough horse that knows how to work, work, work. I get "things done" but I'm scarcely fun - and I think "If only I were DIFFERENT" we'd be having a better time.

I try to reinvent me. Us. I go online, I look up festivals, carnivals, outings. I create scenarios that I think will engage us, that weill make us more outgoing creatures.

Then my husband is indifferent. So we fight each weekend that we never DO anything - yet he never wants to do anything and he bitches and begrudges going to things - then laments that we don't. I canceled us out of every weekend birthday party this summer because he felt they were "holding us back" from doing things - then we never did things.

I keep thinking that I just need to pinpoint the RIGHT thing. That if I create the right situations, the right intimacy in friendships, that if I strike the right chord - it will resonate and it will all make sense. I keep thinking "We have this foundation, we can't abandon it" but really, what's the point in staying up here connected to all these "friends" that we never hang out with, never have dinner with, never socialize with - friends that are friends in title but would they really miss us (see: water in bucket theory)- what's the point in staying here if all we do is stay here.

The Roof Is Leaking

I go back in my head to times long gone, better left unreviewed. What is it, what is it about having had a child that makes me flash back and further back into a life that I neither care to examine, nor frankly care to remember.

Is it having too much time?
Is it having my metaphorical house (relatively) in order therefore my mind has decided to clear out the attic of the rest of the boxed away stuff?

I drove down the highway today thinking about the prom my school had junior year, an ex I had when I was 30, and how much god awful horribly painful stuff lingers in my mind. I know that's it fear, and shame, that cement memories, so much more then love and guidance but honestly, isn't there a corner of my subconscious that has a nightlight on?

You know when they say "Think back to a happy memory"?
I tend to be like "Where? When?"

It's not that I'm unhappy now, in fact just the reverse.
So why - and I really wish I knew why - why in gods name is everything coming back to me now?

Growing Up

"I hate to dispel the myth" he said as he walked up from the basement, roll of Bounty in hand "but there is no paper towel fairy. It's me. I'm the one who changes all the rolls."

Yesterday, All My Plastic Seemed So Far Away

From my "I have no garage thus garage sale" sale... Selling: Little Tikes primary color "Wave Climber". Used outdoors (surprise!) this toy has been scrubbed yearly with baking soda and vinegar mixture as well as sprayed periodically with a vinegar hydrogen peroxide solution to discourage backyard(igan) animals from nesting (and ants from gathering). So it's relatively clean. Fading consistent with age. Can be disassembled (with swearing and elbow grease) and my hose is your hose to clean the corners. This is good for smaller backyards.

Feeling guilty about selling so likely won't negotiate on price (unless you buy all my other listings) - $15.

colors (and age) differ
http://www.littletikes.com/toys/wave-climber.aspx
Product Size 51.00"L x 42.00"W x 52.00"H / 80.00 lbs.

Also for sale: Pink Cozy Coupe - no seatbelt $5, Red rideon thing with door and canopy cover (too lazy to look up name - totally beat up) $1, pink bigwheel (no foot pedal) $1, Little Tikes Basketball Net (photo shows no net. Net was washed today with vinegar and dishsoap and is line drying in basement) $3

We cleaned out the yard, washed off some things, and I sold Ellie's "wave climber" and her little Tykes Pink Pushcar yesterday. I've gotten rid of some toys, some clothes, but the climber and the car have done me in. I'm not sure why. Am I pushing her through stages? She played with it all through April, through May - then we had all the work done and the yard was useless. Doug said she outgrew it, I say she had other things to do and would have come back to it. When other kids played here the climber was toy celeb.

Is this part of wanting your children to have what you didn't? Is this about the vision of her playing on it throughout childhood? Am I projecting into the future her sitting on the shelf playing peekaboo and laughing. She is so young. Did I get rid of it before she was ready? Why oh why was it so important yesterday?
Oh sure it collected spiders, and leaves, and dirt. It killed the yard, it killed the aesthetic, it's about to be winter, it seemed like a good idea.

Was it the $15 dollars? Surely not. We turned around and spent $15 on face painting and icecream at the pumpkin fair. Why oh why did we sell it and why am I so upset? Will the yard look better? Surely. Do I miss it? Likely not. Will she miss it? Meh. She may. Possibly but she got - instead - 2 scooters and a bike. So what's the issue today?

I don't really want to think about it.

Dear Facebook "Friend"

Thanks so much for reaching out to me via Facebook the other day. Imagine my great delight when I saw your face flash across my screen. Has it been 25 years? It seems like just yesterday that my childhood and teen years were horrendous beyond lifetime movie belief and even after all those years of therapy, I love how seeing your face puts me right back in time. HOW FUN! And look at you! You look totally different - like someone I don't even know. Well, I suppose that's accurate because I don't even know you.

Other then the fact that we used to be friends and ....wait a minute...that's right....we aren't now. Because something happened. We either grew up, moved on, or parted ways because one of us hurt the other. What was it again? Try as I might to block it out I vaguely remember you vividly in detail. Thanks for reconnecting and bringing it all top of mind.

Seriously? Whyever would we talk again? Ever?


I cleared my friend requests box of 7 different people.
God love those with reasonable formative years.

For Sale

I'm down in the basement looking at all my gently used, only one child owned items and am already plotting my future yardsale.

INFERTILITY YARDSALE!
My losses your gain!

The prices are IN-CONCIEVABLE!
Something for every ONE.

Sigh. I tried this line out at a playdate, no one laughed.