Miserable things #1,2 and 3

#1

So I went to my first ever Al-Anon meeting last week. Despite my best effort to miss it, the wrong place at the wrong time, I hung out the hour early I was and went.

Miserable.

Heart pounding nervous and awkward.

No idea of the etiquette or flow.

No idea really of what they were talking about.

Lord have mercy powdered coffee AND creamer. Thank god and Roms I had a big gulp.

Cliche serenity prayer and when you say hello EVERYONE says hello (insert name here).

Makes disappearing into the ground much harder when everyone says your name. So they make you fess up that this is the first meeting, ever and EVERYONE says welcome. Not so invisible. They make you read aloud which proved to be a challenge cause as it turns out I have a million tears just dying to spill over and well, no matter how hard you bite your lip, blink and swear, you just can't stop that sort of flood so to add insult to injury I just sat there and cried. And cried and cried and cried.

I hate to cry. I have even more crying in front of complete strangers.

Everything made me cry. Everything everyone said. I wanted to hide in the toilet and sob but that just seemed too dramatic so I sat there, my jacket zipped up to my ears and tried to be a turtle who simply had allergies. A leaky eyed boogery turtle who just could not get it together enough to quit crying. I don't even know why.

I have some ideas. Maybe relief. Maybe hope that this will not go on forever. Maybe because I had finally done Something.

They read of out this book and then talked about what they read, in relation to their own experience.

They called them, "My alcoholic."

They said, "My Program."

They talked about "Working the Steps."

They mentioned "My sponsor."

They talked about "Higher Power." (I'm not talking about trading in the Double A's For the Double D's Either)

How did I end up here? Not in the distasteful I'm better than this how did I end up here, but HOW THE FUCK is this MY life?

I have a my alcoholic. I am apparently going to have a program? I have to do steps which I admit I don't understand much less know how to work. A sponsor? As in someone to send me their spare change so I don't starve? A program that so far does not have instructions. I must admit I don't understand very much of what is going on yet. It's only been and 1 hour, 45 Min's, so I will have to be patient and wait to see and hopefully I'll begin to understand some of what they are saying.

Don't get me wrong. Everyone was nice. And even though I don't think I want to I will go back. They said if nothing else just keep coming back. So for now back I shall go.

#2

Oh the never ending joy this adventure had brought me. So I called Anna's school counselor too. I needed to talk to someone who knows more than me and though there are an infinite number of those around she seemed like a good start. I wanted to know if she knew of any Ala-teen meetings and to get her thoughts on the situation.

It's so much fun to tell people:

No were not nice normal people like you thought.

Yes, we're really messed up and broken.

Please look at me like we're bad and incompetent.

Yes, I too though we were better than this but no, we have really really screwed up our lives and by proxy our children.

Oh I agree it's creepy and disturbing and somehow dirty.

Please nod at me and smile like I'm unstable and may demonstrate how crazy I am at any minute.

Look at me with pity as I married an alcoholic and didn't even know it.

Yes, it was all a facade, we are not descent people.

I know not reliable at all.

I am very ashamed that this is where I am.

Look at Anna a feel sorry for her, look at her differently now that you know she doesn't come from a "good" home.

Now she didn't say a word that in anyway indicated she thought any of this. But It's how it feels. You kinda want to be a certain way and then all at once you're not AND you have to share that with other people. It sucks.

HELLO WORLD I'M A FAILURE.

Yeah look at me school teacher, the epitome of good and nice and kind I'm a royal screw up and my kids are getting hosed in the deal! Oh how wonderful it is to share.

But it's done. It's done with the hope that now there are more kind, loving and supportive eyes on my kids to help me catch them when they stumble, to love and encourage them so they can find the resilience to float even when the world weighs them down. I guess a good dose of humility does the character good.

#3.

The list goes on.

good grief.

meeting #2.

Yeah some new sucker who's now the newbie! Twisted I know.

Less anxiety producing as I knew what to expect. I still don't think I understand much of what they were saying and I managed to speak. No uncontrolled blubbering until after the meeting. It's so fragile, like mascara that's not water proof in the rain. It just runs at the slightest provocation.

I don't wear mascara either.

The book was different but the reading was the same. I just tried to listen. To really really listen. Your not supposed to say anything or make comments of what the other people say. That takes the pressure off. But it's hard to really just listen and not form replies or ask questions. Especially for me. I am very demanding of details and full of thoughts. Well here neither are allowed so I just have to hear what they say, say thanks and move onto the next person. So I am learning a new skill. We'll see how it turns out.

You don't have to talk and last week I didn't. Maybe 10 words the whole time. Shocking I know. So this week I decided what the hell. I'm here. My life's wreck and they say this can help so I am going to do it. I found it hard to talk. I don't know what to say. I can't say much without the damn leaky eyes so I just try. It's nice to know it's good enough. That today I did at least one thing that was good enough just the way it was.

I know that last line was very mopey. But it's late and I'm tired and feeling a little sorry for myself so mopey it will be.

I don't get this higher power stuff so I'll just have to let it sit for a while.

I like the catch phrase, there are a ton, but the one I like they call them the three C's.

I don't cause the drinking. I can't control the drinking and I can't cure the drinking.

So simple.

It's not my problem. I don't have to convince anyone there is a problem. I don't have to find a solution to the problem. It's not my problem to solve.

I had the greatest epiphany this week. I had been feeling so trapped and stuck in this situation, bound by money and the tangles of marriage. It had to do with my wanting, I think, Darren to leave and his refusal. I think he refuses because he thinks he will lose his "rights" to the house if he does. I can't leave as the mortgage is in my name. Essentially trapping me here but worse with him.

Then it was said to me, Just sell it. Those three words were like magic. I can sell it. It's just a house. Simple. Home will come with me wherever I go with the kids. Home is inside us and the house is just a place. It would be less than ideal to move them, but I am not stuck here.

It feels so liberating to know I can get out. Any ole time I want. I don't know when it will be or if that is what will happen but I KNOW I CAN and for right now that is enough. I am not, will not and cannot be held against my will.

Awesome.

Crystal Ball Anyone

I may just have to settle for the magic 8 ball the way things are going.

I am trying not to be the person who is unhappy and complaining all the time. The person who won't shut up about how miserable their life is and how bad it sucks. But I fear it has happened anyway.

I don't mind dirty laundry. It makes me feel connected. Inevitable someone else has dirty panties too. It reminds me life is real and hard and that I don't have to pretend everything is perfect, debt free with oodles of money in the bank, beautiful children and adoring husband. Well the truth is I don't have all of the these things. And it's OK. So if you don't like dirty laundry airing in plain sight look away.

I have some blog business to attend to:
I am grateful for you, you know who you are. I know many of you will smile knowing I am talking to you and you are all correct. Those who surround me, love me, talk to me, listen to me, make me laugh, play with my kids, drink coffee, tell me things that hurt but are true, share your own experiences, answer my call lights and all the other remarkable but unlisted things your are my light. I will admit it is feeling darker by the day, but if I open my eyes I see all your bright lights and I know I will find the way.

I am handicapped by indecision. I just don't know where to begin. I don't know where it will end. I am a planner by nature and it's just driving me crazy the waiting. The not knowing. If anyone has a Crystal ball please call me ASAP.

It amazes me, that so many people have shared their own experiences of life with an alcoholic to me. That it impacts so many people. The wake of destruction is wide and deep. (I admit my mind now wanders, with the word wake, to my hearts true desire... moomba). Being in the middle of it sucks.

How do I best get the kids through this? That is most important to me know. For a long while I wanted to hold out on meetings for them as I wanted to spare them having to go through it. I wanted to have a plan to present them with an answer. I have come to realize I can't spare them this. It's killing me. The other day at school during conferences one of Anna's teachers asked me how things were going. She's just noticed that Anna wasn't her bright self lately. I thought I was going to vomit. Really. Right there on her carpet. I told her about their father and she smiled knowingly and said she understood. She'd been there too. I admit defeat. I am taking her to meetings soon. just looking for one that works, it's now a big priority. No matter what happens this is affecting her, she has not been spared and deserves the support.

I guess It was also in part that I am angry for being in this position. How did I end up having to go to FU**ing meetings even though I am not the drinker? How come I have to do all the crap and deal with the backlash of this when it's not even me? It doesn't matter that it's not fair or that I end up with the broken pieces right? What matters is that I do it. My friend the other night said going is better than the alternative of not going. It took me while to understand what the really meant but I think I do now. And in the end it's not about me and what I want or how I feel about going it's about having the courage and strength to go for them. For Anna's light. I will buck up and go to a god damn meeting with strangers and do something that I really hate.
I hate meetings.
I hate strangers.
I hate group meetings.
Did I say I hate strangers?
I hate the unknown.

Can I bring kids?
Will there be gross cookies and powdered creamer?
How long will it last?
The list is long and I have many excuses not to go....

Is it any surprise I hate doing things alone? I like to surround myself with my friends and family and do group things.

Not meetings with strangers.
I hate this. All of it.
I know, alot of hate right now.

Tonight 6:15 I will try to go. I called about meeting information for Anna. So you see I am trying. These first steps are hard. Really really hard.
Going is almost like admitting it's more than I can do.
But this is becoming more than I can do. And over and over again I remind myself this is not about me. It's about keeping Anna bright. Filling Katie with enough that she will bob to the surface no matter what. Making Beck feel safe and calm. Keeping Kia moving forward. Maybe me too on the last one.

Tired Tired Tired.

Not just sleepy tired, but dragged down TIRED. I've been a terrible blogger, but that right now is the least of my worries. I have been sucking at much more important things. But I will post some new pictures anyways. My friend said we were supposed to do mom of the year Monday, but I'll do mom of the year in photos.

Mom of the year mullet.
Mom of the year: check out how I keep beck's high chair spic and span.
Mom of the year oven....sooo clean.
Mom of the year grubby tub tub.

Ahh my house keeping skills are amazing. Oh well. No ones dead yet.

Looks Just like Darren.

This he learned from his dad.
Katie taking beck down the slide. She's got a system.
Anything you want little man, anything you want.
Happy boy.
Katie was at the just right age to become a big sis. She loved babies and dollies and has always had a mommy instinct and Beck came along and over the moon she went.

Those two, thick as thieves.

My Sweets.

How happy is she?
Do you think he's under weight?
Hi. I love you.
Mmmm...even here I think he's yummy.
Up up and away.
It's a good day when you get to be wet and muddy.
Soo happy.
What is that? I love his curious face.
Anna's the one with one long and one short sock. What a weirdo.
Not sure he loved the whole tube thing.
God he's cute(the little mostly hairless one).
Ahh.
Uh oh. Up to something naughty.
Check out those chompers!

If only I were.

What if my life was.....

single as waitress in Las Vegas.

Married to a millionaire.

23 with no children.

6 feet tall and 120lbs.

I was watching a video and thinking about how cool another life could be. I think it's the lure of the unknown. The fact that I don't know and can make it anything I want it to be. Whereas I know what this life contains. Don't get me wrong I love it, its just alot of work.

From the minute my eyes open (which is whenever Beck chooses) there's breakfast, kids to get ready, kids to drop off, kids to change, kids to nap, house to clean, groceries to buy, bills to pay, laundry, laudry, laundy, lunch for baby, clean up the baby, get the kids from school, snacks, more dishes and sweeping, homework, fighting siblings, whiny baby, dinner to get ready, serve and clean up after, then off to basketball, swimming, softball or work, bedtime teeth and books and jammies and bottles, some occasional crying. It's full of moments when it's amazing. Katie reading signs, back saying momma and walking, Julianna making jokes, Katie telling me after she brushes her teeth that I can rub her back, Kia's wild antics feeling becks warm sweaty head as he falls asleep, Katie's impish grin as she runs to me off the bus, Julianna's stories and plays, the way Katie cuddles, pressed up against you holding on tight, Becks hair pulling hugs, Julianna's conversation.

It's a choice. I wanted this and I love it. There is so much happiness to be had, hidden in the day to day. If I spend too much time looking back I remember the fun that I had, the way it was before, but in that moment did I really know that? If I spend to much time looking ahead planning for how it will be, I miss how it really is. And it really is soft, warm, sweet, tiring, bitter and magical all at once.

I've always believed that babies bring with them when they come gifts. Sometimes it obvious and others may take year to discover. Becks gift is that of now. I lay in bed with him for naps, rubbing his belly and fat soft thighs hoping to coax him to sleep, messy house, list of to do's waiting tat I gladly ignore and I know I only have a year, maybe two, of this nap cuddling and I best know it is wonderful now.

As I sit in my living room plotting murder...

I realize that no one I know has a fatal food allergy. Does that mean those around me are lucky to have avoided such a life long challenge or does that say something about me? Is it a cosmic comment on my ability to show restraint, a question of my morals?

I suspect that will go unanswered.

Perhaps I should buy Darren a new riding coat, a unique and unusual one that would be easy to recognise. Kidding kidding, I don't have that kind of money.

I have been informed that I am not allowed to blog about my anything that pertains to my husband anymore. I think he thinks that our lives are mutually exclusive. He thinks I blog to get sympathy.

Little does he know I don't have to blog to get sympathy. I just have to ask. Pretty simple. Blogging has nothing to do with sympathy.

I blog for me. I blog to be funny. I blog to be silly. I blog to write stories and memories because I like to. I blog because I like to read other people's, to look into their lives and their hearts. To know their joys and success's and trials and mistakes. I blog to process to think. I blog to remember and clarify. I blog to have time to myself and place to share pictures. I blog for advice, creative inspiration. There are probably a hundred more reasons that I don't know right now. But what I do know is I blog for me.

He thinks I have no filters and that I air our dirty laundry on the Internet. (You should see my private collection of video's, google jackass and you'll find hundreds of hours of Darren at his best.) I'll be honest it's mostly his laundry. He has ALOT of laundry.

It's like being married to a comedian, not alot of privacy. Don't do things that are funny and shameful. Don't give me something to talk about. But in all seriousness I blog about my life and for now, at least, my husband is a part of my life and therefor is fair game.