Ansley's Day

Friday will mark nine years since Ansley slipped away from us. I don't have the stamina to revisit the "story" or really even put too much emotion into it. Time has healed so many of those hurts and has also opened my eyes to the impact she made on so many people in her nine short months. No, the day doesn't slip by without my thoughts wondering how many meds I'd need if Ansley and Annie were both residing under this roof! Those two would have probably figured out a way to take over the world by this point. Whew!

What a blessing to be able to look at this picture, though! This is exactly where Annie was sleeping (lounging) when I got the phone call from Dr. Hardin that Annie had tested negative for Pompe's. Words can't describe that moment in time. It's hard to believe that Annie was ever that tiny, still, or quiet.

So, that's sort of where a piece of my heart is tonight. I've been so busy lately that it has been hard to even slow down and think much less be emotional. There are so many things that are going on right now! But, I thought I'd take a minute to quickly spat down what I know may be the biggest thing in my week. (Never mind Annie stealing cupcakes intended for Boy Scouts, Dad's birthday, or other crazy things! Those crazy things will wait for another night's musings)!

Good night, all.

Song of Solomon lessons for Dasha - NOT and Cow Brains for Dinner

So, the blogging has been moved to the back burner (obviously) for a host of reasons. School work has become overwhelming and reproduces at the speed of little bunnies. The kids have all made a pact to take turns seeing who can pop the most gray hairs out of my head. And, I've just sort of been in protective mode for the last several weeks. I've spent a lot of time thinking through who I am as this new journey begins and what I'd like the journey to look like. Now, I've made enough plans to know that I need to check my flight plan with the Control Tower and get clearance to take off and land but I'm also way too familiar with having my flight rerouted through foreign (and enemy) territory! The process has been frustrating, painful, and even gut wrenching at times. I make it sound as if I simply wrote everything down and said to the kids, "Load up! We're heading on an adventure." No. This new journey is definitely going to take some tweaking along with the way but I feel like I've at least got my bearings about who I am now, what I stand for, and where I'm going. Some of those things didn't change but a lot of them did. When you're with someone for close to 20 years, your dreams sort of mesh together and it's nearly impossible to separate them. (Think about trying to separate Kool Aide powder from water). So, many of those dreams and goals have to be rewritten within the new template. OK. Maybe this is all strange and unintelligible for some. However, if you've ever walked this journey, you can relate.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch...

This kids have done their normal things and taken turns seeing who could make mom dial 9-1-1 first. There hasn't been too much major drama beyond getting an email from Dasha's teacher informing me that Dasha seemed to have a new beau. The teacher said that Dasha gave the boy her phone number and then hugged him. OK. I'll admit. The first three thoughts that ran through my head were 1) she doesn't know her phone number, 2) do they make cages big enough for 14 year olds, and 3) I looked down at the floor to see the hood that I'd zipped off of Dasha's vest before she left for school that morning and suddenly had the realization that I could have her wear the hood backwards and avoid any more interactions with the wild boy species! So, before the week is out, I have to figure out how to have a portion of "the talk" with her. I'm just not sure where to start or stop. I think I'll start at the beginning (Genesis 1:1) and then stop when her eyes start bugging out or before getting to Song of Solomon for sure! Beyond that little bomb, things have progressed in a semi-normal fashion.

Grant has convinced her that everything tastes like cow brains!!!! She asks for cow brains for a snack. The next time I see cow tongue or something that only a tribe in Africa would eat in the meat section, I'm going to buy it and make Grant eat it!

See? Nothing abnormal there.

As I'm beginning this new journey, I've realized that less than a mile down the road, the flight plan I'd filed is already being modified, though. I've said it over and over. I absolutely know that God has quite a sense of humor. Slowly but surely, I'm learning to let go and relax enough to see the humor and adjust my route. I feel like my poor old GPS screaming, "Creating a new route! Creating a new route!," when I miss a turn! I'm simply taking comfort in Jeremiah 29:11. "For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Things that I never thought possible just might be.

Good night, all.

The End and The Beginning

As many of you know, Thursday was the day. So, instead of answering all of the emails and trying to rehash everything, here the details are.

Arrived at courthouse only to find that for some reason, I couldn't get through the metal detectors. I've never had a problem anywhere else before. Every time the officer waved the wand over my butt, it sounded like an alarm going off. Seriously? Looking back, I can find a little bit of humor in the situation but at that very moment, it was definitely not funny. My mind was racing and I was beginning to look around to see if they were going to make me strip in order to go into a courtroom and have the remainder of my dignity taken. Finally, the officer laughed out loud and waved me on. I'm still not sure what the deal was. Was I their morning target for their first laugh of the day? Who knows.

In my mind, I'd pictured a quiet courtroom with a few other people sitting nervously as they waited for their marriages to be obliterated. Nope. This was civil court. People suing their contractors. People suing their banks. The courtroom was packed. This was definitely not what I'd expected. Thank goodness, my case was second on the docket for the morning so I wouldn't have to sit there all day or risk my case getting bumped to another date as we'd originally thought might happen.

The first case was called and the judge made a complete mess of the girl's lawyer. He kept asking for other documents and then asking the girl about the details of why she was divorcing her husband. He asked about her children, her own personal life and finances, and even asked her why she felt that her marriage could not be salvaged. What the heck? I'll admit that I thought more than once about bolting from the courtroom. I don't know what I would have done but I figured I could have at least made it to the elevator before having a heart attack. So, the judge did not grant the first contestant of the day her divorce. Her poor lawyer (very young and kept apologizing for his ineptness) looked as though he'd been hit by a truck. They were missing some paperwork that the judge found to be quite necessary after his badgering.

Then, they called my name. But, they didn't call my name. They said something like Randolph vs. Randolph or some other nonsense like that. No sooner than I'd been called, I felt the tears starting to well up. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why must I cry about everything? I did manage to stifle the tears after my lawyer gave me a look that would have scared a dead person. Her words to me right before court began were, "Simply take the stand, raise your right hand, agree to tell the truth, answer any question form the judge with simple responses, and don't get emotional." Yeah. This coming from a lady who dissolves marriages on a daily basis. Anyway, somehow, I made it to the stand, was sworn in, and from there, it honestly becomes a blur. The judge started asking me questions. However, my lawyer literally gave me "the hand" to inform me to stop answering the questions and she began to answer them for me. Oh my gosh. The questions that were asked made me want to slink behind the stand with embarrassment. Personal questions about finances that the entire court gallery was hearing. Personal questions about the details of the divorce decree. Justifications about certain parts of the decree. I alternated between channeling my energy to keep myself from crying and to keep myself from leaping over the banister and into the judge's box and strangling him for making Eric sound like a monster. (Then, I spent time being mad at myself for wanting to protect him). Geez. The day I can make my heart and mind connect, I might be safe to society. But, for now, the two entities don't seem to be on the same wavelength. Anyway, this went on for an hour. For a flipping hour, I sat there listening to two strangers rehash the details of the last twenty years like I wasn't even there. Don't get me wrong, I couldn't have answered if I'd wanted to. But finally, in some sort of secret motion, the judge and lawyer seemed to quit their tug of war and I was divorced. I seriously don't remember walking out of the courtroom. I made it to the elevator before I lost it. Lost it is putting it mildly. As I bolted back through security, the same officers who'd haggled me a couple of hours before just opened the doors and let me fly out of that God forsaken building like a wild animal escaping from a cage. Once I got to the van, I started it, and just drove. I ended up in the Publix shopping center on Riverstone. I guess I was there for a little over an hour before I got myself together enough to navigate home. I don't think I've even processed all of the emotions of that journey. I'm not sure that I'll ever be able to, either. But, bottom line, he got what he wanted. In fact, it was a year ago this weekend that he made his final decision. I can see that now. Heaven knows that I couldn't see it at the time, though. He chose to lie to me about a business trip and rendezvous with her at a hotel in TX. That was the first time that I'd realized he'd directly lied to me. Yeah, he'd been "hiding" things for a while at that point but he hadn't just right out lied. I was at home with sick babies and pulling my hair out. I thought he was in TX trying to work with a new client. Yeah, he was sure working with a new client. He blamed "her" for tempting him by driving from Lubbock and getting a hotel room. Why am I reliving this? It doesn't even matter what the details are now. The bottom line, a year ago, he chose her over me. Now, he can legally get what he wants. Grant's first words to me were, "Tonight is the first night that daddy is doing the right thing." It took me quite a while to ask for clarification because in my heart, I knew exactly what he meant. From the mouths of babes. As I ask for that clarification, he slammed his next question directly into my bleeding heart. "What's the difference in the importance of you and me to him?" Once again, I didn't want to assume the meaning so I asked him. I won't forget his answer to me as long as I live. We both just sat there and cried. I'm not exactly sure what his tears were for but I could begin to make a pretty good list. Heck, I'm not exactly sure what my tears were for, either. In the end, I'm divorced. (That still sounds ugly and dirty to me but I guess I should get used to it).

There's the story in one big pile of words. There are some details that might come back to me as I process through the day. But, for the most part, I've closed the door on those memories for now and decided to simply keep moving forward. The longer I stand still, the more those memories get wrapped around my feet and ankles and pull me down. It's useless.

I've tried to make some extra time to spend with Grant lately and wow. Conversations with a middle school boy deserve their own entry (as do my early morning conversations with Annie). So, maybe I'll have time to put to paper the insanity of those conversations on another day.

For now,
Good night, all.

What happens when I can't do it any more? I'm at my juggling capacity. If I try to juggle one more thing, I'll most likely drop all of the other balls I'm trying to keep in the air. Which balls will fall first? Which will fall the hardest? Which will fall and roll away? Kids, job, house, bills, sanity? Which one is it? I'm tired to pretending to have it together. I don't. Things are beginning to unravel at an alarming rate. Today, Grant punched his closet door. He's currently trying to finish two assignments that were due on Friday. Why? Grant has never given me grief about school work. He's always been on top of things. What changed? Then, Dasha made Annie bleed. She decided to pick the hang nails off of Annie's toes and convinced Annie that this was ok. When Annie started screaming and I ran to see what was going on, Dasha just looked up and said she didn't know what happened. Annie quickly told me that Dasha had "picked her skin off." At that point, Dasha started justifying it by saying that the little pieces of skin were bothering her so she decided to take them off. (I'm just counting my blessings that she didn't decide to get the nail clippers and do it). Annie... well, Annie is two and just doesn't understand. The potty training has gone well and accidents have been minimal. Believe it or not, the biggest problem has been getting her to sit down to pee. She wants to perch like a gargoyle on top of the potty. There are some things that I just can't explain. However, I will tell you that a little potty chair will tip over and expel its contents when a child sits on it gargoyle fashion.

I'm just tired of the lonliness of the whole situation. If you have someone's arms to run into and momentarily hide from the world, don't take them for granted. Yeah, my parents help out but if they really knew how close things are to falling to pieces, they'd never stop hovering. They've already raised kids. This is not their job. Their expectations and methods are not what we had in mind for our kids but it's becoming harder and harder to maintain those expectations since I have to rely on them for so much. Our initial expectations are blurring with the leneniancy of their grandparent ways. The kids get confused with what they're supposed to do and what's acceptable. Why can I do that at grandma's but not here? That wasn't a problem when they visited there once or twice a week but when they are there nearly every day, black and white begin to blur to gray.

My wish for tonight... To run into the shelter of someone's arms and be able to let my guard down without fear of everything falling to pieces. Without fear of condemnation. Without fear of judgement. Without fear of losing who I am and who I want to be for the kids. I just want to hear someone say, "It's ok." Even it's a lie. Maybe this sounds really shallow or even silly. I don't care. I can't keep up the charade. Three jobs, three children, one house, financial responsibilities, and trying to figure out who I am through all of this. It's becoming too much.

Good night, all.

Negotiations, Men in the Shower, and Anniversaries



6:30 a.m. "Mama! I wanna eat pamcakes. Let's go downstairs so you can get me some."

7:00 a.m. Quick shower reveals that some sort of skirmish has gone on in my shower over night.

This silly hook doesn't hold my razor like it's supposed to but battling G.I. Joes seem to cling effortlessly to it! Really? I just wanted a simple shower without an entire troop of men monitoring the situation. "Grant! Come get your men out of my shower! Now!"

Then, I discover this poor guy on the table next to the bed. Hmmmm.... Wondering if he pulled his own leg off or if Annie got to him.

"Mama! Look what I found. Can I play sand?" This is what she was discovering while I took a 2.5 minute shower. She also stripped her pants and diaper because they were "too wet." I told her she could have this "prize" if she'd use the potty all day. She immediately began negotiations which lasted all stinking day! At one point, she tried to bargain with me to get the diapers back. At another point, she told me that she'd use the potty if I'd give her the treat first. Seriously? Ok. Go ahead and say it. Most of you are thinking it! She's her father!!!!!! She would argue with a wall if she thought she'd be able to get her own way!

Ok. I give up. If she can change her own clothes, tell me that she's "too wet," and can assume a particular position in a particular place to do her "business," I'll admit that it's past time to potty train. Ugh. I don't want to!

We survived day one of potty training boot camp. And, yes, I handed her prize over at the end of the day. She only had two mishaps so I don't think that's too bad. (Why would any sane parent buy an inside mini sandbox full of purple sand)?

She waited until bed time when I'd put her Pull Up on to take care of her major business, though. When I asked her why she didn't poop in the potty, this was the response I got. If she wasn't so darn cute.... I wonder if the judge is going to see it that way when she messes with the wrong person? Probably not.

So, that was my day minus rebuilding a vaccuum cleaner, rebuilding a dresser drawer that Annie used as a step stool to reach her paci, and doing about sixty five loads of laundry. Whew.

On another note, happy 40th anniversary to my parents! Wow. The story that I'd chosen had that same milestone in it but, obviously, part of my story is having to be rewritten. I'm just hoping for the same sort of happy ending. Happy anniversary, Mom and Dad!

Good night, all.

Hockey Pucks, Poo Cookies, and Lead Weights

Let's see, here's how it all works out so far...

1) No sleep due to a wheezy baby and my own emotions which seem to have grown into a three headed monster and are once again taunting me with visions of sleep but allowing me none.

2) Overwhelming guilt about two epic character fails on my part. I'm not used to screwing up but when I do... dang. (If you were unlucky enough to catch the last post before it was deleted, I'm sorry. That's about all I can say).

3) Trying to cook burgers so the kids could have a real meal that wasn't 100% from a box. Had gas turned too high when I lit the burner and toasted my hair and eyebrows. Hmmmm.... I need a haircut anyway. Guess it's mandatory now.

4) Hamburgers were served as either hockey pucks or bloody. Hard to see what you're doing in the dark.

5) Tried to save myself with the kids by making cookies. They turned out ok but it suddenly dawned on the big kids that the hamburgers and cookies resembled poo patties and, well, though I laughed, I just wanted to throw away my mom card and run away.

6) Had to run to the grocery store to buy litter when I realized I was completely out and the cat had decided she wanted a refill. She filed her complaint in the middle of the office floor multiple times. Left the kids home and occupied to make the quick trip but returned to drama.

7) Finally got everyone in bed only to realize that I don't have a darn thing to give Dasha for her birthday tomorrow. Oh well. I didn't have anything to give Grant last week, either. Maybe I can just call it another new crappy tradition.

8) Crawled in bed with my laptop in order to get some work done (backed up to paramount status) only to flip channels and find "My Best Friend's Wedding." I'd never seen it before. I have now and wish I hadn't. Not what I needed.

9) The sheer magnitude of emotions and questions right now are pulling me down like lead weights. In the beginning of this journey, the emotions were definitely real but they alternated from high to low and were almost surface level emotions which could be quelled by throwing something or screaming. What I'm dealing with now... Nope. I could throw all of the shoes in Payless and it wouldn't help a thing. There are points when I cry out to God and there are days when I scream in anger at Him.

10) Through all of this, I've come to realize that the team I work with at school couldn't ever be replaced. Knowing that seven other insane ladies have your back can make all the difference in the world! We've laughed so hard that our stomachs hurt. We've cried together. We've even discussed... well... I'll never be able to tell those women what they've meant to me over the last... 12 years? Really?... That makes me really old! Anyway, there are definitely bright spots in all of the darkness right now.

So, that's a snap shot of where I'm at.

Good night, all.

Safe

Happy birthday to a 12 year old who knows more about living than most adults

County science fair

Accepting 2nd place in microbiology against a bunch of 12th graders

Annie's first hair cut

 This week was a non-stop barrage of events and escapades. While Grant's birthday and science fair win were definitely high points of the week, they were gut wrenchingly bittersweet, as well. He's 12. He's not looking for my stamp of approval. He simply wants his dad. When I texted Eric a picture of the 2nd place ribbon, Grant got teary eyed and then mad at me for some ridiculous reason. I'm guessing this is what the next few years will look like for me. Next week, we'll celebrate Dasha's 14th birthday and hopefully have a few minutes to catch our breath from the past week. I don't have too much to spill right now. I'm just kind of in a holding pattern. If I move to the left or right, I might just lose my grip and slip off of the edge of solid ground. So, I'll keep still for now until I can regain some strength and process the piles of poo that seem to be building up around my ankles. In one of those piles is a final court date with a little memo attached saying that I'll have to do quite a bit of retelling and talking with the judge and that one session might not put an end to this nightmare that I'm walking through. I may have to be poked, prodded, and tortured a second day (or more) to satisfy the questions and time constraints of this judge. Like I said, I'm going to stand very very still as if I were hunting for rabbits like Elmer Fudd and wait for my strength to return. In my current state, the decisions I make aren't rational. The projects I finish are half-a@@ed. And, my heart just isn't in it right now.

This completely sums up my position right now. I just want to let the guard down and be safe for a while.

To the one who's dreams are falling all apart
And all you're left with is a tired and broken heart
I can tell by your eyes you think your on your own
but you're not all alone

Have you heard of the One who can calm the raging seas
Give sight to the blind, pull the lame up to their feet
With a love so strong he'll never let you go
oh you're not alone

You will be safe in His arms
You will be safe in His arms
'Cause the hands that hold the world are holding your heart
This is the promise He made
He will be with You always
When everything is falling apart
You will be safe in His arms

Did you know that the voice that brings the dead to life
Is the very same voice that calls you to rise
So hear Him now He's calling you home
You will never be alone

These are the hands that built the mountains
the hands that calm the seas
These are the arms that hold the heavens
they are holding you and me

These are hands that healed the leper
Pulled the lame up to their feet
These are the arms that were nailed to a cross
to break our chains and set us free

 Good night, all.