From delusion to peace

Someone once told me that if you put a frog in a pot of boiling water, it will jump out immediately. If you put a frog into a pot of warm water and slowly turn up the temperature, it will boil to death. It’s the same thing with domestic abuse.

It still amazes me that even though I have been divorced for over two years, and away from the dysfunction that was my marriage, I am sometimes still paralyzed by it’s affects and question the reality of the situation.

No matter how many people tell me or point out the awful things that my XH did to me, and does to me, how he manipulated me, lied to me, cheated on me, deceived me; I still find a place inside that allows me to forgive him, believe him, make excuses for him.

I’m not sure why.

I suppose that I needed to believe certain things in order to handle and manage my life. I wanted so badly the things that I believed and wished were true that somehow I deluded myself into thinking they were reality. I guess he kind of did the same thing with his lies and deception, he wanted to believe them so badly that he made them a reality. He still does that today, and probably always will. Dealing with it today is somewhat harder than it was in the past, because there is no motivation for him to improve anything, he simply doesn’t care, has no regard, no respect, and no consideration for me, and sadly that rolls over to our children.

HG helps me to realize things that I never realized before. She has a way of being objective and pointing things out to me the way she would a friend or anyone that she cared about. She doesn’t allow me to continue to delude myself and behave in the “surviving” manner that I did for so many years. She helps me to find a way to empower myself and find a way to stand up for myself the way I couldn’t for so many years. She has given me strength that I forgot I had, she has taught me and shown me that I deserve more than being treated badly and not to take it any more.

She has shown me what true love and partnership is.

I look at her and all I see is how much she loves me, how much she is devoted to me every minute of every day, how much she truly cares for me and about me.

She is truly the calm of my life, the center, the peace, the tranquility. Without her I would still be a victim. Without her, I would not have found out what real love is. Without her, I would have continued to be lost.

That cycle of abuse is hard to remove yourself from, even when you physically remove yourself from the situation or relationship. Even though I sometimes feel like I’m spinning my wheels, and I make mistakes, I know that I am making progress disallowing myself from being controlled. I know I can’t change anything. I can’t change the way my ex is, but I can control the way that I react. And I will no longer react by doing nothing, not making waves, not upsetting anything because the repercussions will be worse. I’m done putting up with bullshit, and frankly I don’t need it.

I HAVE everything I need in my life.

Bullshit is NOT one of those things.

“The happiest days are when babies are born.”

–Miss Melanie Hamilton, Gone With The Wind

I had the ultimate pleasure of helping one of my favorite past doula clients bring their second son into the world yesterday; it was a fabulous and wonderful birth.

I am constantly amazed by the strength of a woman in labor and her ability to do something so profound and miraculous.

It is truly a beautiful reflection of the goddess that each woman is.

Let me bring you some change

Today after dropping HG off at the Portland International Airport I was off to a shift at my Glamorous Waitressing Job, which I must say, I am beginning to detest.

It was an average Monday that started off with my being sat two tables of old ladies. Now, typically I like an old lady as much as the next person, but one in particular was a royal pain in the ass. She complained about how much the wine cost, and then she complained about the size of her portion of Tilapia, then she complained that it was brown.

I said to her, “Bitch, it’s coated and pan seared, of course it’s brown,” walked away and instructed the hostess not to seat me anymore old ladies.

Okay, so I thought that, I didn’t really say it, but I did tell the hostess no more old ladies. She didn’t seat me any, that lady left and I pocketed the $2.00 dollar tip she left woo-hoo!

The next group of people to sit at that same table were two men, waiting for someone else to join them. I greeted them, took their drink order, brought them their drink, asked them how their day was, etc and left them to wait for the last of their party to arrive.

Not two minutes later, I was standing at the table directly next to them and I hear the one guy (Dumbass #2,) say to the other guy, (Dumbass #1,) “Is that our waitress?” pointing to me. DA #1 shakes his head yes, although you know he wasn’t quite sure either. DA#2 motions for me to come over, looks at me inquisitorially and says,

“Are you the lucky person who gets to take our order today?”

Seriously people.

That is what he said.

I just looked at him with my, “I-can’t-believe-you-just-said-that-you-stupid-fuck” look and said, “Well, aren’t you waiting for Dumbass #3?” To which he replied that he was going to order for Dumbass #3, because God forbid, they wait five more minutes for him to arrive. Busy day, you know, lots to do…

He told me that DA#3 wanted a cheeseburger.

“Oh,” I said, “And how would Dumbass #3 like his cheeseburger prepared?”

Dumbass #2 didn’t know.

“And what would Dumbass #3 like as his side item?”

Dumbass #2 didn’t know.

“And would Dumbass #3 like to start off with a salad or soup?”

Dumbass #2 didn’t know.

“Well.” I said, “We’ll just have to wait for him to arrive, won’t we?”

Which he did, just a few minutes later and I got to do that whole song and dance again, although this time with answers.

And as busy and impatient as those three were, they managed to hang out long enough for coffee and to tell me that I did a “really good job.”

Yeah, because that made up for the pain and suffering they caused me.

It was a typical day and really I should be thankful. No one made hand gestures to me to tell me what they wanted to drink or was on their cell phone every time I came over to the table. For the most part, everyone was on their best behavior, because it was, after all Monday and they were all quite busy.

I’m working on wrapping up this waitressing gig. Of course, things like being shorted $800.00 in child support in one month doesn’t help matters and makes it difficult to move on to anything else. I am earning a living, pitiful as it is and kids need to eat, and they need stuff, like braces and swimming lessons and shit.

And I need things too.

Like Sushi and Pinot Noir, and chocolate, and cable.

Important things.

So unless I see an add on Craiglist for a “Princess,” I’ll have to suck it up and keep putting up with people and their endless bullshit. Difficult as it is sometimes, it does allow me to do my main job of taking care of my children and spending time with HG.

Which means a lot more to me than money.

But not quite as much as Pinot Noir.

The snow has melted in the NW, and life is getting back to normal. The snow family in our front yard is now just some mush with hats, scarves, and sunglasses lying on the wet, muddy grass. Even the sun came out for a few minutes today, but was quickly replaced by our usual overcast skies.

Winter here in the NW, sometimes reminds me of a book I read once as a child. It was a story about people who were living on another planet where the sun never shined and it rained all of the time. The little girl who was the main character had never seen the sun because she had been born on that planet, but other people told her about it from their memories of Earth. One day, the little girl heard that the sun was going to come out. It was going to be shining for just a few minutes and wouldn’t shine again for many, many years. The little girl excitedly told her classmates who didn’t believe her and made fun of her for saying so. They teased her and locked her in a closet at school. While she was locked in the closet, the sun came out. All of her classmates were in such awe of the sun and so happily playing in it that they forgot they had locked her in the closet. By the time they remembered, the sun was gone, and she had missed the entire thing.

It’s a rather depressing story, and I couldn’t remember the name of it to save my life, but it’s one that has always stayed with me for some reason.

Today ended up being a bonus day with my girls. When I went to DD#1’s basketball game she told me that her dad was very sick with the flu, so after the game I picked up the other girls and we went to lunch with my mom and brother. Then I brought them home to hang out with me for awhile before work, it was nice and made up a little for all of the times that I miss them so much when they’re with their dad on the weekends.

HG is leaving next week to visit her best friend, and I’m slowly preparing myself for that. It’s incredibly pathetic how dependent I am on her for so much; It’s a good dependence I think, but sometimes I get scared thinking about her not being around.

The snow and the dreary weather combined with the stresses of life and kids have knocked me into a little bit of a depression. Little things definitely life my spirits, like movie nights with HG, time with my kids when their not fighting, chocolate and kisses from my puppies.

I guess that’s the way things are sometimes.

Joy

and pain,

Sunshine

and rain. . .

Snow Day (s…)

Okay people, we are going on THREE days without school due to snow.

THREE.

Because it’s not looking like tomorrow will bring school back to our lives.

THREE DAYS.

Today, I got to go to work.

(Poor HG.)

And when I arrived home, no one was there.  The house was empty, the garage was open and HG’s car was still in the driveway as it is in that picture.  I was only slightly concerned that HG had buried all of the children in the back yard, but, alas, no worries.  One was at a friends, and HG was sled riding with the other two.  Whew.

Because of the fact that I’m not quite sure if she’ll survive another day; I told her that tomorrow I would send her out to GI Joe’s for a little retail therapy.  There, she can peruse the sporting goods or Columbia Sportswear clothing and maybe buy herself some sanity.

The Portland Metro area doesn’t do so well with snow.  We just aren’t equipped for  it as it only occurs every few years.  We don’t salt our roads as it’s bad for the environment and we have very few snow plows.  Our only combatant of the weather are cinders and tire chains, which are now abundantly strewn about our highways.  No, when snow strikes, The Rose City just “freezes!”  Most of the main streets are clear today, but the side streets haven’t been touched, and “they” are calling for freezing rain tonight.  Lovely.

Not only do people not know how to drive in the inclimate weather.  They do totally stupid things, like drag their nine year old daughters behind their trucks on inner tubes.

Brilliance.

We can only hope for brighter weather to come, school to resume, and parents to be able to take a sigh of relief.

Or someone needs to send chocolate.

Or drugs of some sort.

Please?

An Open Letter

Dear HG,

A year ago tonight, I was anticipating meeting a new friend for coffee in the morning.
I couldn’t have know that I would be meeting the love of my life.

Thank you for the most beautiful year I have ever, ever had.

You are my everything,
and I will always love you.
Just like this.
Until the end of time.

Your loving partner, girlfriend, wife,
RSG

Reason #112 Why I Love My Wife

Last night, DD#2 lost a tooth. She very excitedly cleaned it up and put it in a ziplock bag with a note asking if she could keep her tooth. She slept with DD#1 on account of the whole fear of serial killers thing and slipped the tooth under her pillow.

I, after preparing a large dinner, was tired as I usually am in the evening. I made it until about half way through CSI-NY when I was falling asleep on the couch. HG sent me to bed, I went. When I got there, I was a little awake so I decided to read. I grabbed the first book in my nightstand which happened to be Lesbian Erotica and began reading.

Let’s just say, I love me some good stories about lesbian sex, but these just weren’t doing it for me; so many stories about bondage and cutting and borderline torture, yuk. I’d read and then as soon as they would mention something about a knife or some other things I can’t bring myself to mention here, I’d move on to the next story.

I grew tired of it quickly and let’s just say I may try my hand at writing some lesbian erotica, because really, these stories were published in a book and I am quite confident I could do much better than that.

But I completely digress.

Sometime, a few hours later, I felt my beautiful wife get in bed with me and snuggle up beside me. She whispered something sweet about loving me and how great I was, that I barely heard, and I was back to sleep.

0630.

DD#3 comes in an gets in bed with us as she does every morning. I tell her to look outside and see if there is snow, (after all, there could be a delay which would allow my lazy ass to stay in bed.) She doesn’t and they didn’t.

The door of our room opens again.

DD#2 comes in and announces, “The TOOTH FAIRY left me $3.00 and a LETTER!”

My thoughts, in order:

1. Holy shit!
2. I’m the worst mother EVER, I forgot the Tooth Fairy (again.)
3. HG is the most awesome mother and partner in the entire world.

Usually I blame the fact that the Tooth Fairy forgets on the fact that we must be on a route with a really lame Fairy. I told the girls that since we’ve moved into this house, we are apparently on a new Tooth Fairy route, and this one appears to be quite organized, you know, with leaving a letter and coming on time.

They seemed to buy it.

So not only does HG take care of every one of my emotional and physical needs, love me dearly, do the laundry, clean the house, file my nails, entertain me and be my best friend, love and adore my children as if they were her own, take care of them, help them with their homework, drive them around, aid them when they puke, and a million other things.

She’s the Tooth Fairy too.

How hot is that?

Reason #113

Immediately after finishing the above post, I looked at the time and realized that it was time for DD#3’s swimming lesson. Knowing that there was no way in hell that I could take her and cook dinner, I announced to HG that she could either start dinner or take the girl to her lesson.

Fully knowing that HG hates (and doesn’t) cook, I figured this was a sure fire way for me to be off the hook for the whole swimming lesson fiasco. Of course I did leave out the fact that DD#2 wanted to go with her, and that DD#3 needed to be picked up at a friends house that HG had never been to.

Oops.

I told her that I’d make it up to her by rubbing her back, but she said that I’d be doing a whole hell of a lot more than that, seeing how she was doing all of my bitch work for me.

Hmmm.

Maybe I should get that Lesbian Erotica book back out…

Adolescence Sucks

And being the mother’s of one isn’t always a picnic either.

Tragically a young girl in DD#1’s sixth grade suddenly died last evening at Lacrosse practice. Apparently she was having some pain in her chest and felt sick, then collapsed. She died despite rescue efforts, and the cause of death is yet unknown although it is suspected she had sudden heart failure.

The school did a good job today, and although DD#1 didn’t know the girl well, they had some close mutual friends who were very affected. Grief counselors were available and the students spent most of the day out of class, it seems.

I thought DD#1 was doing okay. We talked about the situation and I explained to her what a rare thing it was to happen to such a young girl. She seemed to be doing just fine, until we were watching a show on television that mentioned a serial killer.

That was it.

She lost it.

I blame myself, although I didn’t know that the content of the show was going to be related to anyone dying, so we changed the channel to Miami Animal Police, thinking it would be a happy show about animals being rescued.

Wrong again.

A puppy died, another two were rescued then one of them died, some alligators were caught after threatening to eat some people.

WTF?

I believe that my daughter is already pre-disposed to the same anxiety issues that I have, (and my mother has, and my grandmother had,) but tonight confirmed it.

She was certain that an alligator slinging, serial killer was going to get us all and was so bothered that she couldn’t even take a shower or brush her teeth without half of us upstairs with her.
I remember so clearly being her age, (12,) and having anxiety. Being scared of ghosts, (which I’m certain I saw in one of our houses,) being scared of being alone, (which I was quite often,) being scared of being outside in the dark, or of the DEVIL, (which I don’t believe in anymore.)

My mind would race through every possible bad thing that could ever, ever happen to anyone and I was sure that it was going to. It still happens today from time to time, but as an adult I know what is happening to me and why. Plus, there is the added benefit of being able to take Xanex if I need it.

I tried to explain to DD#1 that sometimes when we are upset or worried or scared about something, other things can come up and we start to focus and obsess about those things. I told her that she had a hard day today, and that she was probably worried about a lot of things that happened, not really a serial killer. Maybe she thought that something like what happened to her classmate would happen to her or someone she loved and that those feelings were okay, and enough. She didn’t need to add to her stresses being worried about something as rare and irrational as being attacked by a serial killer, (although I worry about this myself from time to time, but I digress.)

My heart feels so heavy for her that she has to face the death of a classmate at such a young age. Even more so,I am so very, very sad for that little girl’s family. It’s such a tragic thing, to lose a child, and I can’t even begin to imagine the pain that her parents are in today. I hope that they are able to find some peace in their hearts someday.

I told DD#1 that the most important thing that we can do in our lives is to try to live every single day being happy and grateful and kind and loving to every person we come in contact with; because we never know what day will be our last day here, and we need to make the most of every moment.

I guess it’s a good reminder to everyone, myself included.

I am grateful for my children and my family. I am grateful for my partner whom I love and share my life with. I am grateful for my beautiful home and a promising tomorrow. I am truly grateful for my life and I will try to do a better job being a better partner,mother, daughter, sister, and friend and be sure to show everyone in my life how much I love them every day.

And I pray I will be able to do a good job guiding my daughter through these upcoming difficult adolescence years that dish out a whole lot of life lessons for us to grasp all at once.

I’m pretty sure I need a drink just thinking about it…

The Wonder of it All

I have been wondering if W’s latest signing had anything to do with the delay in the receipt of DD#2’s Holiday gift from my out-law’s, Hottie Mama, and Hottie Papa. The other girls’ gifts arrived on the same day, several days before Christmas. DD#2’s, which was sent at the same time was no where to be found. It is entirely possible that the W. Administration was concerned that two retired grandparents were actually terrorists sending contraband through the mail to Oregon, disguised as PJ’s, a handmade purse, hat, and scarf, and a gift card to Cold Stone.

Or perhaps the Post Office just fucked up.

Either way, the DD’s were finally able to open their gifts from their grand-parents-out-law today and were completely thrilled, (especially with the Cold Stone gift cards!)

DD#1 took one look at the hand-knit scarf and admired the “drop-stiches,” (whatever the hell that means…) and was quite impressed!Hottie Mama and Hottie Papa rock, yes they do.

~~~~~~~~~~

Tonight we were invited to our neighbors house to watch the National Championship Football game that we do not give a rat’s ass about, but they were going to FEED us, so we went. It was enjoyable, especially the food and beer part, because as it turns out…

I’m a bit broke this month.

Why? You ask???

Well, because it seems that my XH has taken upon himself to decide that he would pay me $800.00 less in support than he is suppossed to pay me this month.

I guess things like court orders and LAWS don’t apply to him.

~~~~~~~~~~

Last night, The L Word Premiered and it was good, quite enjoyable. But the best part of the entire L Word Premiere was that I had sex dreams about Jennifer Beals last night.

Yeah Baby.

I asked HG if she would mind if I had sex with Jennifer Beals, and she said, “Only if I can be there.”

. . . One of the many, many reasons why I love that woman . . . !

An Open Letter

Dear Parents of Children Playing Indoor Soccer,

Your children are 9, and they are playing soccer to have, FUN. It does nothing for their goal of having FUN to scream and yell at them while they are playing soccer to have, (FUN is the operative word here.)

It is very distracting to other people trying to watch the children play soccer to have you screaming your head off in the ears of the people who are sitting in front of you on the bleachers. Remember, we are INSIDE, this is INDOOR soccer, let us use our INDOOR voices, shall we?

Back to the screaming thing…

The children who are 9, playing soccer, to have, FUN are not paying attention to the things that you are screaming. If you do not scream directions at them continuously for two twenty minute halves, they will not just stand there like idiots. They have been playing this game for several years and most likely have grasped the basic concept.
When you scream things like, “Get the ball!” “Center it!” “Go!” “Come on Yellow, call the foul” and my personal favorite, “KICK IT!” The children, who are trying to play the GAME, cannot hear your instructions.

There is a very good reason for this and the next time that you are at your child’s INDOOR soccer game, you may want to take a moment to observe the very tall, very thick, piece of plexiglass that is directly in front of you and spans a height of approximately 15 feet.

The instructions that you are screaming at your child do not permeate that very tall, very thick piece of plexiglass.

And all of those things that you are screaming at your child while she is playing indoor soccer?

Bounce off of that very tall, very thick piece of plexiglass and come right back at the nice people who are trying to watch their children play the game.

Of INDOOR soccer. That is INSIDE. So that the kids can have FUN.

Thank you for your understanding and compliance.

Sincerely,

RSG