Keeping My Eye on the Prize...

Knowing this darn caruncle will look better after the redness goes down. Here is how it is looking today. Day One, 24 hours after surgery. Not really so bad, huh?





Day Three after Surgery:

What the Hell is a Caruncle?

Apparently, it is part of the eye (see the numbered part 5 in the diagram below)...

It also has another definition which I will go into a bit later.

I had a tumor (really looked more like a mole) on my tear duct or, more technically, on the lacrimal caruncle. It had been getting bigger, more fleshy and annoying. So, I went to the eye doctor and had it removed. When the triage nurse called me yesterday, she was reading through what the procedure would entail, and she came to this word, caruncle, and stumbled. Then today, when I was sitting there going through the intake process with the technician and getting apprised of the details of my surgery, I happened to notice the word "caruncle" on my chart. I made a menatl note and came home to google it.

ca·run·cle(k-rngkl, krng-)
n.
1. Biology A fleshy naked outgrowth, such as a fowl's wattles.
2. Botany An outgrowth or appendage at or near the hilum of certain seeds, as of the castor-oil plant.

So, in all seriousness, if you could have seen my mole, you would have agreed, I had a caruncle on my lacrimal caruncle.

Aye Matey!!!

Baby for Sale...

In the last 24 hours, Liam has pulled a pile of serving dishes on top of himself and chipped a couple of them, pulled a lamp onto his head, eaten dog food, played in an outlet for a moment until I noticed, pushed an end table over, and whacked his head on about twenty different tables and slammed his fingers in numerous drawers...

BABY FOR SALE!! GET YOUR BABY HERE!!!

Things I Will Miss...Things I Will Not...

Tonight we watched The Holiday and it was a great film - a great sappy love story. It left me wanting love and romance in my life again. I DO NOT want anyone else at this point, but it made me think about the things I did love and appreciate in my marriage. As I think about these things I will miss, I am sobbing in mourning for them. Is that pathetic? Is it actually part of the whole process of moving on? I don't know, but I write them down here so that I will always remember the things I loved about being married to my husband.

Some things I will miss about my marriage:
1) Being told I'm beautiful, hot or sexy...it just never gets old.
2) Family outings, even if they are just to Home Depot or the grocery story...
3) Movie nights, TV nights, Lost and 24 - they just won't be the same...
4) Sleeping with our toes touching.
5) Making plans for our house, kids, life, goals, dreams, together...
6) Having date nights.
7) Going out for coffee together.
8) Giving and receiving hugs.
9) Cooking family dinners and then sharing them.
10) Having my hair and face stroked as I lay on the couch at night watching some pointless tv show.
11) Looking into your eyes and knowing I am truly loved and feeling deep love back.
12) For awhile we haven't, but reading in bed together at night.
13) Hearing and saying "I love you" - but, I will always love you and I hope we can keep loving each other, even if our lives change.
14) Imagining what each of us will look like when we are eighty...imagining us walking hand-in-hand then as we did as newlyweds.
15) Being told it will be ok and believing it...
16) Um...do I even have to write this one down? S-E-X, especially with my husband...there really is nothing better.

Things I won't miss:
1) Arguing about who left the dishes in the sink, didn't take the trash out, made a mess and didn't clean it up...repeat...repeat...repeat...
2) The way relationships wax and wane. I was never any good at feeling secure as they waned and trusting all would wax back soon.
3) Being told to shush during every tv show, movie, or program because it was too distracting and somebody liked to watch in silence.
4) Hearing the monitor click on and knowing that a power struggle would ensue over who would go up to get the baby.
5) Worrying about the husband's drinking, feeling trapped and not letting myself go anywhere for fear that a "slip" would occur.
6) Not acting like my self because I was too concerned about what he thought.

There are plenty more, but I am feeling drained. I sobbed through typing that whole first list, but didn't seem to cry one bit typing the second list. Someday maybe I will able to read all those things I miss and know that I have found them elsewhere.
Perhaps in friendships?
Perhaps in another love relationship?
Perhaps inside of myself?
I hope the latter is true. Self-sufficiency is a skill that I seem to have stopped cultivating over the last six years. I once had a therapist who told me, when I was panicking over becoming co-dependent in my burgeoning love relationship with P, "All relationships are co-dependent. It's the nature of them. How can you be in a love relationship without relying on your partner for things and vice versa?"

Complete self-sufficiency may protect me from becoming too co-dependent, but it doesn't stop me from having needs. I pray that I will find healthy, constructive ways to meet my own needs and the needs of my children in the years to come. I am looking forward to some me time.

Sentence Diagramming...Anyone Remember This?

I was having a chat with my mother today about sentence diagramming. We were talking about how much we loved it as grade schoolers. I was big into geometry. Sentence diagramming seemed like the geometry of the language world. Anyhow, I am wondering your answers to the following questions:

1) Did you prefer geometry or algebra, in general?

2) Did you get better grades in geometry or algebra?

3) Do you remember sentence diagramming?

4) Did you like it?

5) Could you diagram a sentence today?

To jog your memory, here are a couple diagrams I found online. YIKES. Aren't they complex looking? How can I not remember how to do this? Also...remember stoichiometry from chemistry? Double yikes!!!!!!!!!

A Couple More Vids...

Little Laney Lou Who...she was very cute the last few days...she also has been cranky, bratty and neurotic. Ahhhhhh the terrible twos!

]

Flight to Health (or Apparently Flight INTO Health)

There is a phenomenon in mental breakdowns and their treatment that is called a "flight to health." This is how they are describing my husband's condition the last few days. He was remarkably better and seemed really motivated to get out of the hospital. The problem is he also seemed very motivated to NOT go into any further treatment. So, now, they seem to have his number. One hospital is talking to the other and his doctor (psychiatrist) got involved. I am guessing he used the "malpractice" warning. He probably said something like this: "This guy is repeating a pattern here. He's experiencing a classic flight to health, this is not a real recovery, nor is it a good faith attempt to move on with his life. No. This is more likely a sign that he is not doing well and is in for more subsequent breakdowns..." So, now, thank GOD, they are refusing to let him out of the hospital due to the instability behind this feeling of wellness. Here is one of the only definitions I found of this phenomenon:

Definition: An opposite problem occurs when change comes too quickly. It's not uncommon for clients who enter therapy to deal with a difficult problem to experience a positive change in their situation after seeing a therapist for only a few sessions. Feeling good about this reversal of their lives and assuming change is easy, they convince themselves they no longer need outside assistance. There's even a name for this phenomenon. It's called a "flight to health." So future sessions are cancelled, although there is still a lot of work to reinforce the minor changes that have been made. Source: click here

I am sad for him, but I am happy to be divorcing him...well, not really happy. I wouldn't say that. I am sad and depressed and crestfallen and disappointed. The only good thing is that, at this particular moment, I don't have to fight and scream and get involved in this medical care. I can just let it be. I don't have to care for him anymore. Although, I continue to realize that I will not ever be able to stop caring about him.

UPDATE: As I was lying in bed this morning I started thinking that the phrase "flight into health" sounded more familiar. I don't know if the social worker got it wrong, or if I heard it wrong, but I found WAY more information on this new phrase...here are some interesting tidbits:

flight into health
in dynamic psychotherapy, the early but often only temporary disappearance of the symptoms that ostensibly brought the patient into therapy; a defense against the anxiety engendered by the prospect of further psychoanalytic exploration of the patients conflicts.

Retrieved from "http://www.biology-online.org/dictionary/Flight_into_health"

Flight into health
When a sick person who is terrified of diagnosis or treatment goes to the doctor, he or she may suddenly feel a lot better and not need anything done after all. In fact this can even be a psychological phenomenon, where they actually do feel better (something akin to the placebo effect).

Denial stage - classic behavior here is a 'flight into health', where previously-perceived problems are suddenly seen as having miraculously fixed themselves

Dear God, Bless Humpty Dumpty...

One of Elena's favorite pastimes these days is reading to us. I am both amazed at her comprehension and memory, while simultaneously in awe of how her imagination fills in the blanks. At the bottom of this post is a video of her reading so you can get a sense of her tone. Enjoy that, but a moment ago, I tried to transcribe her reading a prayer book to herself. There seems to be some interweaving between nursery rhymes and prayers, real life experiences and concerns and imaginary events and characters. It's pretty hysterical...here is the transcription as best as I could keep.

Thank you God. Last time (I think last time means "Once upon a time") made little baby horse and mama horse and reindeers, fwogs, tadpoles, chipmunks, spiders and dee bees. and dee squirrels, wabbits...
Last time my pwayers: make us feel better, make us go away and be good, humpty dumpty fell off wall, God bless him he fell off wall.

And frightened Miss Muffin away...(Nursery rhymes)

God bless horses
God bless kittens
God bless their daddies and make them feel better
Make everyone feel better
Go to the doctor and make them feel better and them don't look like dadda's doctor...(prayers for her dad)

And there's a fluff cold mountain and fluff cold mountain from fluff cold mountain (I have NO IDEA what the heck this means)
Dees pwayers...and pwayers...

He called for his pipe and he was merry old soul and thought about the many gifts you give us and people gave him many many gifts maybe God make us feel better and God bless our trip. (this is a combo of Old King Cole and a prayer that sounds an awful lot like what my mother says before dinner)

He thought about his fluff cold mountain and fluff cold mountain was cold...he thought and he thought and thought. He had a drip down his nose and he coughed and then he spit out his nose. He talk about it and he talk...Will you be my friend? Nope! No, I won't! (this is from Mouse and Elephant a different book...who knows how this fluff cold mountain character got in there - I think it is a character though)

Now I can read Good Day and Bad Day...on to another book...

Like a Handprint on My Heart

So, I have been listening to Wicked lately. Track 18 speaks to me. It tells the story of my husband and me. Perhaps we are not meant to be, perhaps we will not see each other for a long time. I don't know. I know I have been changed for the better for knowing him and having him as a friend. Here are the words to the song that makes me cry...track 18...the song is called For Good:

(Elphaba) I'm limited
Just look at me - I'm limited
And just look at you
You can do all I couldn't do, Glinda
So now it's up to you
For both of us - now it's up to you...

(Glinda) I've heard it said
That people come into our lives for a reason
Bringing something we must learn
And we are led
To those who help us most to grow
If we let them
And we help them in return
Well, I don't know if I believe that's true
But I know I'm who I am today
Because I knew you

Like a comet pulled from orbit
As it passes a sun
Like a stream that meets a boulder
Halfway through the wood
Who can say if I've been changed for the better?
But because I knew you
I have been changed for good

(Elphaba) It well may be
That we will never meet again
In this lifetime
So let me say before we part
So much of me
Is made of what I learned from you
You'll be with me
Like a handprint on my heart
And now whatever way our stories end
I know you have re-written mine
By being my friend...

Like a ship blown from its mooring
By a wind off the sea
Like a seed dropped by a skybird
In a distant wood
Who can say if I've been changed for the better?
But because I knew you

(Glinda) Because I knew you

(Both) I have been changed for good

(Elphaba) And just to clear the air
I ask forgiveness
For the thing I've done you blame me for

(Glinda) But then, I guess we know
There's blame to share

(Both) And none of it seems to matter anymore

(Glinda) Like a comet pulled from orbit
As it passes a sun
Like a stream that meets a boulder
Halfway through the wood

(Elphaba) Like a ship blown from its mooring
By a wind off the sea
Like a seed dropped by a bird in the wood

(Both) Who can say if I've been
Changed for the better?
I do believe I have been
Changed for the better

(Glinda) And because I knew you...

(Elphaba) Because I knew you...

(Both) Because I knew you...
I have been changed for good.

My Mood for Today is:

SUCKO!!!

Growing Up with Bwiends

You might recall that Elena loves her bwiends...She now does call them her animals and she has graduated from the cartoony bwiends, to the Schleich animal figurines.

Here is the original Bwiends post:

My favorite little thing Elena does lately is play with her bwiends (that's friends). Her friends are five little squirty bath toys which cost me about $2 at Target. Their names are: Moo Moo, Baa Baa, Duh Doh, Bloop Bloop, and Gack Gack, or Cow, Sheep, Dog, Whale and Duck. There was an Oink Oink, but he went the way of many of Hannibal Lechter's victims when the family dog chewed his face off.

All the friends stay organized via the buddy system. They all match up.
Bloop Bloop and Gack Gack - both water lovers
Baa Baa and Moo Moo - barn animals
Oink Oink and Duh Doh - used to hang out together, but now Duh Doh is a fifth wheel to one of the other buddy groups. Tagalong!

She can spend hours gathering and sorting her bwiends. This is great...she's practicing organization, or learning to herd. However, the flip side of this obsession, which is not so great, is that if one of the buddies is missing, she flips her lid and goes berzerk looking for them. So, suppose she has Bloop Bloop in her hand, but can't find the duck. She will incessantly call for the missing one, "OH NO!! GACK GACK???"UH OH!! OH NO!! Gack Gack, whhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhheeeeeehhhh rrrrrrrrrrrrr you?"

So the other day Patrick called me at work and said, "What the hell does gack gack gack gack gack gack mean in Laney-speak?"

My answer was simple..."Is she holding bloop bloop?"

"Yes," he said, suspiciously...

"She wants her duck."

And, here are some pictures where you can play "spot the bwiend."

The old bwiends:








And here are the bwiends-based games of late. They all involve shadows and lining up the animals so she can watch their shadows change shape. We think she's a budding artist!

Divorce.com

Here's something completely surreal. There are some things I will do online. I might even go so far as to say that MOST things I will do online. I have no fear when it comes to online merchants, identity theft, etc. If it's quick, convenient and seems like a good deal I am all over it. So, when embarking on this new, strange world of divorce I decided to google: "divorce online" and see what I got.

Believe it or not, you can:
1) Fill out divorce paperwork online
2) Consult a lawyer online
3) Add a divorce to your shopping cart
4) Select options such as, divorce-uncontested, divorce with minor children, divorce without minor children
5) Get a court approval "guaranteed" or your money back
6) Unlimited changes to your forms at no additional cost
7) And only on the Web can you get 110% guarantees, Premium Web Divorce $199, No fault Divorce $28.95, and get access to a complete divorce organizer.

Seems like just yesterday I was going through my wedding planner and searching for marriage information online. What a long strange trip it's been!

Divorce is Weird

Patrick was served with the divorce papers last night. He assures me he will sign them and set the kids and me free. He has surprised me by telling me that he is "at peace" with all this and that he agrees I am doing the right thing. Imagine that! Divorcing your husband and having him tell you he agrees with it...that makes me sad and happy all at the same time.

In the end, I am happy to report that I am not divorcing Patrick for lack of loving him, nor even for lack of loving him ENOUGH...I am divorcing him because I could not love myself and be married to him at the same time. So, I guess that means my answer is, I love myself and my children TOO much to continually subject them to the pain of Patrick's mental illness and struggles with addictions. It is a good thing
to be divorcing for love not hate.

Patrick had a slip in his recovery. I told him if he slipped and did drugs ever again (nitrous oxide, to be exact) it was over. He did them again (after spending $15,000 and 3 months in rehab) I kept my word. It's over from a marital standpoint.

I know I don't have to ask for your support, as family and friends, I know
that you give it.

I don't have to ask you to pray for us, as family and friends, you give that too.

It's Time for the Big D

Perhaps posting this here will help people in similiar situations get help...before it is too late. I started this last night at 2 AM. It's now 12 noon the next day and my hell is over...for now...

8:00 AM - Wake up at Mom and Dad's. P had fallen asleep in the playroom and I was in my room on the other side of the house. Go downstairs and we both wake up around the same time. Play with the kiddos, hang out with coffee...normal morning.

10:00 AM - Mom says she will take the kids to my grandmother's house, so P and I can run down our house in Norwalk to get it ready to sell. We plan on listing it tomorrow.

10:30 AM - Go down to the house together. We check out the basement (which flooded yesterday and it's not as bad as we thought). P immediately says, "I need a nap." We have an argument over whether or not this is right to nap when a) we just had 10 hours of sleep and b) have a ton of shit to do. He ends up yelling at me saying, "If I want to nap, I'll take a nap."

11:30 AM - I go to Barnes and Noble to get out of the house, get a coffee, and clear my head. I pick out some childrens' books for Laney and feel better. I head home. He's laying down, not really sleeping. I go in the room and tell him, "Patrick, this is it, we need make and KEEP an appointment with the divorce mediator. I love you and am afraid we are just plain malignant for each other right now. I am done." I don't really know what brought me to this point, but I just was so done.

He starts crying, props up on one elbow, looks me in the eye and says, "I am sorry. I have been such a stubborn, selfish jerk. I know you need a partner who supports you and I will be that. I WILL take care of you. I WILL NOT let our marriage die. I love you and, right now, you need to go lie down and be comfortable in bed and relax and let me get you lunch. You rest and call friends and I will go to Home Depot and fix up this house." Needless to say, I cried tears of joy. (Dana can attest to this since I called her at this point.

12:30 PM - I drift off into a little nap and feel more relaxed than I have in months. Maybe it will be alright? Maybe we will make it? Maybe....night night, Kiki

2:00 PM - Phone rings and P tells me that the car, which I had bottomed out in the morning pulling over the curb in our front yard...our VERY old van that has over 160,000 miles on it, is leaking coolant and can't be driven. He says he's in the parking lot at Home Depot and that he will call AAA.

2:30 PM - I decide to borrow the neighbor's car and go over to pick up all of P's crap out of the van. He had driven it home from upstate NY and had (still after almost 2 weeks) his suitcases, computer, etc in it. I get to Home Depot and pull into the parking lot next to his car. I can see that he is quickly rummaging in the back of the car. I can tell he is up to something and I immediately suspect he's doing whip-its....been there before and, this man just does not move fast and he was furtively shoving something somewhere FAST. So I ask him. He denies it.

2:45 PM - Go to load the neighbor's car. He puts his backpack in first and then all his other big suitcases. He then says he wants to have a cigarette and goes rummaging around looking for his backpack and then says, "Geesh, I never should have put this in the way back here." He goes to smoke in the van claming he wants to call AAA again to see when they are coming. I say fine. I go to throw away some trash and then come back and he is talking to AAA. He is giving them every drop of info...acct number, my name, location, license plate, etc. This seems strange to me since he claims to have done this already about an hour ago. He hangs up and says to me, "WHY did they need all the info again?" I look at him suspiciously and say, "Patrick DID you call them before?" He says yes.

3:00 PM - Decide to head back home to Norwalk so we can drop off the neighbor's car. I talk him into just calling AAA and cancelling. Let's just leave the car for tonight, I say. So we do...

3:15 PM - Go to transfer stuff out of the neighbor's car and into the storage pod and again, P puts his backpack at the very bottom of all of his big pieces of luggage. I question him (it's like putting your purse at the bottom of a big pile where you won't be able to access it). He claims nothing is in it. I say, "I am going to need to look in your backpack NOW." (I've gotten really good at trusting my instincts!) He says, "NO...you either trust me or you don't!" I say, "Obviously, I DON'T! If you were not hiding anything, you would not mind this, nor would you be making such a big deal of it." I make one move towards the backpack and he says, "YES, I went and bought whip-its." I go to the backpack and there are $80 worth of whip-its in there.

3:17 PM - My heart breaks...yet again. I look at him earnestly and say, "Well, you really did make a dumb choice today, didn't you? You pick today, when I am READY to get a divorce, to do this? Your actions are speaking louder than your words, you want out. I will give it to you."

3:30 PM - Call my friend Pat to come and drive us to Ridgefield. She complies, GOD BLESS HER. We sit outside, him staring into space, me staring at the ground. I am numb and broken and sad. I do love this man, I know no one can or will understand how, why, etc. But, I do. We sit together for awhile. P gets up and throws away all the whip-it stuff. I thank him, but I know it's too little too late. I think about leaving him in Norwalk, but know that, DAMMIT, all his meds are at my parents' house. So.....

4:00 PM Pat picks us both up and drives us to Ridgefield. We get home and lie together on our futon in the playroom and talk. I tell him about how I have tried. I am exhausted from trying so hard. I can't do anymore. He says he wants to die for about the 100th time this week. I say, "I sorry you don't get to. You have 24 hours to figure out where you will go. I can't have you living here. It's not working. As for everything else, we will talk about that." Toying with options, it just seems like there is SERIOUSLY no where for him to go.

5:00 PM - My mom gets home with the kids and we immediately sit down with her and I ask her to tell me what she is thinking and all her frustrations come out. She's not able to have P living with us. She feels trapped in her own home. She looks at P and tells him she loves him, but that he can't be a family man right now, it's obvious. She tells him she's seen her daughter turn into a lousy daughter, a lousy mother and depressed soul. She can't watch it anymore.

5:05 PM - P seems to rally and plays with his kids and give Elena her bath...he is actually being quite sweet. I am resigned to the fact that it will be over, but he still is being quite a sweet father and it touches me. I go into the bathroom and I can hear him talking to Laney in the kitchen. She says, "I wuv you Dadda. I wuv my Momma too!" He says..."I love you too, Laney and I love your Momma too." and she says, "Why you love my Momma, Daddy?" and he answers, "I love your Momma because she is my wife, I married her because I love her so much." It was sweet. We do baths and put her to bed and sweet Liam to bed.

7:00 PM - I go downstairs. P and I are planning on watching 24. We put it on and watch it. During the second episode, I fall asleep, my M.O.

8:30 PM - I wake for a moment and the tv is running, but P is no longer in his seat. I get up and pad into the kitchen and he is closing my parents' liquor cabinet. I look at him and say, "You WILL NOT drink at my parents' house. YOU WILL NOT!!! You need to take your medication and go to bed." He says no, all the while holding his spinning head. He's tortured, it's obvious to see. He says, "I can't. Sorry. I'm going." I say, "Don't come back." He says, "Don't worry...I won't!" And leaves, slamming the door.

8:45 PM - Lock all doors and crumple into a heap and cry for the lost marriage, his mental illness, his disease, that he's said he wants to die and I fear he might do something, etc.

10:30 PM - Feed Liam and get into bed.

2:00 AM - Pounding at the door. My mother lets him in. Tells him to go sleep in the playroom. I am awake now, writing this all down and listening to the sounds of him stumble around and probably puking. I want to die, too. This is too hard, God. I can't believe this is my life. I really truly can't.

UPDATE:
So he banged around all night and stomped and raved and slammed doors and put a hole in the wall...he kept me and my mom awake until 5AM when he finally passed out...I guess.

Slept until 6:30 when Elena got up. At 7:30, Patrick got up, came downstairs crying and still raving...all the time I kept thinking about the full moon and the origin of the word lunatic...and finally he crossed a line. I have always wanted to kill people, he said.

I dialed 911 and was a typical, hysterical 911 call.
Them: Are there children in the house?
Me: SOBBING LOUDLY...YES, YES THERE IS A BABY!!
Them: Can you take the baby and leave the house?
Me: YES!
Locked myself in the car. They came and took him away. He's going to be at the hospital...it's over now. I am so relieved and tragically torn up. Maybe this will make for good "fiction" later. I just can't believe my life has disintegrated to such a state.

I've Got to Admit, It's Getting Better...

A little better, all the time...(can't get no worse)...to quote the Beatles. The medication has been tweaked, the depression has peaked and is subsiding. Patrick's doctor put him on Synthroid to "have his thyroid run a little hot." This is apparently a way to pull a person out of a depression. When a bipolar person is cycling rapidly and not responding to treatment, all seven different drugs, sometimes it means their thyroid is not quite up to snuff. So far, this idea seems to be genius. He's doing better. It's the answer to prayer. Thank you, God!

On another note, a silly note, we went to the grocery store together last night to buy the fixings for really good burgers. We got good fatty meat, colby cheddar, garlic half-sour pickles, and hydroponic tomatoes. When we got to the self-checkout aisle, we were laughing over the fact that each item is annouced as you scan it. Scan bananas, "Please put your bananas on the conveyer belt." Scan your sausages, "Savings of $.40, please bag your sausages." Scan tomato, "72 cents, please bag your malanga." WHA?? What the heck is a malanga? I must have inputed the wrong sku.

So today, as I was relaying this story to a co-worker, I realized I had not yet googled the "malanga" to see what the hey it is...I found this description amusing:

MALANGA
Malanga or yautia, also know as tannia, tannier, cocoyam (Xanthosoma Species).

These are names for a very confusing root vegetable (actually a corm, a compressed underground stem) resembling a yam. There are more than 40 species, they are very similar to the related taro or dasheen (Colocasia esculenta), and there are many common names that overlap the 2 vegetables and their various species.

(source: www.foodreference.com)

To be fair, we were in a giggly mood, but a malanga? Ahhhh well, it was really nice to be in a giggly mood...getting so much better all the time...

In Case You're Wondering...

My husband is home again. This time for a while. He truncated his stay at St. Jude's by three days. He was in a deep depression. He was not responding to his medication. He was sinking deeper and deeper. I felt like I almost lost him. If he were drowning in a sea of black oil, had had sunk so deeply that only our fingers still clung to each other.

The good news: a lot of the confusion lately is probably due to this state coming on.

The bad news: we do not, by any stretch of the imagination, have his medication figured out.

Mental illness absolutely, positively sucks. And that's all I have to say about that.

Malaria...and Mosquito Nets

My mother runs the Sunday School program at St. Stephen's Episcopal Church in Ridgefield, CT. This weekend they are doing a collection for mosquito nets for the children of Africa. She had me help with the "marketing" pieces to be hung from a giant net in the church. I thought I would share them here, since I didn't know much about this problem, but now I do. More people in Africa die each year from Malaria than from any illness or disease. One of the most effective means of prevention is to sleep under a tent of insecticide-treated mosquito nets.

Lenten Research

I thought this was good and very enlightening...
http://www.spirithome.com/devo_awed.html

Homecoming Weekend!

This weekend, my husband came home. He came home physically, which wasn't really a huge deal, although it was nice to have someone's toes next to mine in bed. He makes an awesome bed warmer. But, he also seems to have come home mentally.

He's been going through a program up at St. Jude Retreat House. It's a six week social-educational focused treatment program. He finished the first phase and moved on to the "Continuing Education" portion of the program. It's been hard for him. The focus is on self-assessment and self-image. It's on career and goal-setting. It's basically focused on all my hubby's weaknesses. He has struggled. He seems to be working through good things, but part of that work sends him into some depression, or, as the doctor put it, into a "psychotic depression." Oh joy!

So, I was worried about his homecoming. What would it be like? The last time he came home, he was distant and foreign to me. He seemed to struggle to even raise his arms to hug me. This time, was the complete and utter opposite. It reassures me that he is working so hard on both overcoming his illness and working through the program. He says it's stubborness...I say it's God's work. Both are probably true and not mutually exclusive.

Praise God for both of us reconnecting...
Praise Him for recommittment to our marriage...
Praise Him for beautiful, angelic children...for dates...for helpful in-laws...

Thank you for praying with me. I finally called out "uncle" to God last week. Maybe he heard me?

The Prodigal Son

My mom says she's been thinking about this bible story in relation to my husband. She's trying to be as open as the wealthy landowner who welcomes his son back with the words, "For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found" (Luke 15:24). My husband has been lost for a good long while. He is still lost. He is mentally ill. He has bipolar mood disorder, bad periods of depression and, God only knows what else.

So, this week, he has returned to a state of mental darkness. He has been suffering from a deep, dark depression. This afternoon he cried to me, "This program I am in is about making smart choices and getting a chance to live a better life. How can I ever live a better life if I never get the choice because the depression always comes? How can I ever get better?"

I didn't have an answer for him then. I don't really have one now, except to say, that I am a believer in God. I believe He has a plan. I don't know what more to say except, I look forward to the day when I can say, "This husband of mine was lost and now he is found." I know that day will come, until then I dent my own hands from clasping so hard in prayer. Maybe others can pray too? Maybe this post will move others to pray? I don't know. Only God does.

I Want to KNOW...

I wonder what God has in store for me long term? I just wish I could glimpse the future and KNOW that it will be ok. I used to feel this way all the time when I was single. If I could just KNOW I will find love and have kids...Now, I want to KNOW that that this love will last and that the kids will be ok. Am I never satisfied living in the moment?

My six word story for today is:

Glimpsing the future, her heart swelled.

"Six", she said, "Six Word Stories."

Thanks to Tess for sharing her new obsession with me. How fun to come up with short, pithy little gems. Each one is like a marble, filled with color and completely different, but interesting enough to turn around and around in your hand...Here are some I found online that I like:

Adam, apples are delicious!
Uh oh.
misteraitch September 27, 2006 04:29 AM

In Gore Vidal's book "The City & The Pillar" he writes in the opening chapter:
"He was home. He was lost."

Here are some of my attempts:
"I cannot," he whispered and left.
He would haunt her thoughts...forever.
If you love, set me free.
Be yourself? Love yourself? Bite me!

Olive Branch

I got this note from my husband yesterday...I think we might be coming through the worst of it. Maybe?

I picked up The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran. It's a book I had wanted to read
but never got around to - it was in the bookshelf so I gave it a try.
Here's what I found - the words jumped off the page at me:

Then Almitra spoke again and said,
And what of Marriage, master?
And he answered saying:
You were born together, and together you shall be forevermore.
You shall be together when the white wings of death scatter your days.
Aye, you shall be together even in the silent memory of God.
But let there be spaces in your togetherness,
And let the winds of the heavens dance between you.

Love one another, but make not a bond of love:
Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.
Fill each other's cup but drink not from one cup.
Give one another of your bread but eat not from the same loaf.
Sing and dance together and be joyous,
But let each one of you be alone,
Even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same
music.

Give your hearts, but not into each other's keeping.
For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts.
And stand together yet not too near together:
For the pillars of the temple stand apart,
And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other's shadow.

It is so fitting for our situation - perhaps it is time to be over the
fantasy of romantic love that is so celebrated on this holiday and
concentrate on a much stronger form of love.

I Love You........

The Dirty Sock Funtime Band

My dad and I took Elena to see this band today. They were great. Crazy, but fun. Real music. I give it thumbs up. She was so adorable that, at one point, I cried watching her. Her face was all lit up and she was grinning from ear to ear. She looked around the room, taking in every detail and munching popcorn. She was enamorate with atmosphere. She comes by her love of concerts, music and theatrics naturally.

There were two sort of poignant moments for me aside from her initial reaction I described above. First, she had the same dance personality that I have. This band asked for a lot of audience participation. She so badly wanted to participate, but was so self-conscious about attempting. It was so cute, but painfully familiar, to watch. There were plenty of kids who gladly shrugged their parents and leapt out of their seats to dance wildly in the aisles. Most kids thrust their hands in the air, clapped, and sang along as directed...not so much my little girl. She took it all in thoughtfully. At one point, the band formed a conga line which half the audience jumped on and jaunted through the aisles. I could see how desperately Elena wanted to be a part of it and join it. She was so torn. I am not an insecure person, but she reminded me of me when it comes to anything physically participative. In this situation, she was just like her momma, and that meant something to me.

The second poignant moment came separately for both Elena and me. It was when we both realized that we did not have Daddy with us. For me, it was in the beginning of the show when I was sure P would have been loving the band and the instruments and the rock music. He would have loved seeing Elena's face light up at the live music. I just know it. It made me well up and cry. I looked around and there were daddies with every child, holding them, dancing with them, rocking out with them. At the end of the show, it hit Elena too. She said, "Us go see MY daddy now?" Um, not right now honey, not just yet.

A Deep Sigh

Well, I am thinking seriously of an unconventional marriage. I am thinking of getting a divorce. I am thinking that we need it for both my husband and I to break out of destructive old patterns. I mean, it obviously works for neither of us right now the way it is. For me, it's too much responsibility for his well-being, finances and happiness. And for him, well, it's sort of the same thing. He can't stand the burden that comes with family. I can't stand the burden that he becomes when he is unhappy.

What do I do? Where do I go from here? For now, I am living each day as it comes. I am praying for me, my children and him. I am praying for a miracle. I have a lot of hope, but far less than I used to.

Pathetic Post

My life is in the shitter. You know how there is that quote about God not giving you more than you can handle? I am actually, for the first time in my life, doubting it. I have cried myself to sleep for a week. I don't know what will be and I am having trouble conjuring up my usual "Que Sera Sera" attitude.

By now, you are most likely wondering what could be wrong. As opposed to a long, drawn out, whiny post sharing all the details, I provide you with a list. See what you think:

1) I work full time and have two kids under the age of three
2) I have a two-year-old firmly ensconced in the terrible twos
3) I have moved back in with my parents so I can sell my house
4) I have separated from my husband who isn't sure he can handle our domestic life any longer
5) This weekend I have to pack up and move out of my house so I can list it on the market
6) Last weekend we had the stomach flu
7) This whole week we have had a bad cold with croup and fevers
8) Sleep has become a punctuated handful of hours EVERY night
9) The six month old still gets up every night for a bottle
10) Financially, we are almost out of all reserves

That's it...I think I feel better for having spilled it all out on the page like that. Thank you. Now, I will end with a prayer that I offer myself. A good friend sang this at our wedding:

Lord, make me an instrument of Thy peace;
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master,
grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood, as to understand;
to be loved, as to love;
for it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

Amen.

st. francis of assisi - 13th century

Ice Cream Injury and Great Curry Disaster

I have a couple of silly food stories to share so I thought I would lump them together here...

The Ice Cream Injury
The ice cream injury story is quick and funny...I was deperately trying to pry a rivulet of peanut butter out of my Friendly's ice cream on Sunday. I dug and dug with the ice cream scoop, but to no avail. I finally got my fingers in there to try and grab it and snap it. That tenacious peanut butter ribbon pulled my nail back and separated it from the nail bed. OUCH! Boy, did it hurt! Now, it is ridiculously hard for me to type with my pointer finger. Adds a whole new meaning to the concept of foods which are dangerous to your health.

The Great Curry Disaster
Once a month or so, my company has a potluck lunch. Everybody prepares some food to bring in and we gather in the kitchen to share it. It's a nice idea and brings a hominess to a sometimes overly corporate environment. In December, the theme for the meal was Indian. A bunch of folks responded...I'll bring nan...I'll bring rice...I'll bring a salad...etc...I decided to go for it and make a chicken coconut curry.

That Monday, I went shopping. Only the best for my curry! I bought organic chicken, gorgeous golden chicken stock, potatoes, coconut milk, and a myriad of eastern spices...Marco Polo would have been proud. I stood at the sink chopping for hours. I made a HUGE pot of Indian basmati to go with my curry. I cut each and every component of the curry into uniform, bite sized pieces. It was the kind of attention to detail and recipe that is seldom seen at my hand...I made enough so that my father, who adores curry, and I could have it for dinner and then I could bring the leftover vat of it in the next morning in the crock pot and keep it temptingly warm all day long. The smell of exotic curry and sweet coconut would fill the kitchen and, like cartoon characters on a visible stream of odor, my colleagues would float in, led by their noses. It was a lovely fantasy.

SCREEEEEEEEEEEECH...that's the sound of my dream derailing as over cooked the basmati. Oh well, I figured, I don't need perfect rice, once this curry is dumped all over it, no one will notice! The curry opened to rave reviews from my father. It was awesome. All the attention and care, coupled with the extravagant ingredients made it a truly special dish.

After dinner, as my father was doing the dishes, asked if I would like him to decant the curry into the crock of the crock pot. Sure, I said, why not? And so, he did, right into the sink. The crock slipped and the curry dumped, 97% of it landing in the sink. There was a moment that he grasped the hot, spilled stuff in his fingers before giving up. It was too much. It was gone. He looked like he might cry, so I reassured him that at least we got to eat it and there was another guy bringing in lamb vindalu anyway, so not to worry.

I showed up early the next morning, frown on my face, to confess that I had dumped my curry. The host of the potluck's face went white. What? What is it? He said...as I was carrying my vindalu to the car, the dog jumped up on me and knocked it out of my hands and it landed on the driveway. What horrid luck! We had to laugh. It was seemingly incomprehensible. Needless to say, our kitchen (and probably his dog and driveway) smelled like curry for a long, long time.

Manifest Destiny

Today, Patrick and I embark on the unconventional phase of our marriage. We are taking a mutual break, a separation. We are doing it because I am tired of always being the leader and he is tired of always being the follower. We need to shake things up. We are moving. We are selling our house. We are starting something new. We tried tweaking little things in our marriage, trying to even out the uneven division of power, but we need (to quote my husband) broad strokes.

What does broad strokes mean? It means we need to upend our life, head over teakettle, in order to change our dynamic. Patrick is heading off to our new area, the Adirondacks, by himself. He is in the advance party. He will get established up there, we will join him after he has created a new environment for himself and us.

It reminds me of the days of manifest destiny and the pioneers who boldly mobilized to find a new life. Passing into the unknown is scary for sure, but we have found that this little house in the suburbs doesn't work for us. We need to be surrounded by nature. We need to find something new...and this time, Patrick needs to lead us. As Death Cab for Cutie says, I will follow you into the dark.

Dipping my Eyeballs in Kosher Salt

That is what it feels like in the morning around here. I am up way too late trying to grab some me time and then when Elena comes to wake me at 5-o-f-ing-early-clock, I get really salty and peeved. It's a bad cycle. God forbid I should have a nap, because it's then that much harder to fall asleep. When I wake up, I feel as if I have only been asleep for 7 and a half minutes and my eyes feel like I have dipped them in kosher salt. Fun times.

Is It Me...

Or is the Google word verification getting next to impossible lately? I just want to leave a comment, not get into a freakin' vault...