I wish it wasn't raining

Because otherwise I would put our flag out. It's hard to believe it's 8 years later.

The thing I remember most is how we kept the TV on 24 hours a day for the rest of the week. We slept, uneasily, with the TV on. This sticks with me I think because of now having children. You would never want to subject your kids to those images, over and over and over again. I'm a news junkie, but there are days the news does not go on - at nearly 4, she picks up too much already. And there are some things she doesn't need to know yet.

Maybe it will clear up. And when it does, this liberal will show her patriotism by unfurling the flag on our front porch. And remember.

Another one

Another year down.

And, once again, I turn to the if today is your birthday feature in the paper for inspiration and guidance*:

"This year is delightfully unconventional. By the end of September, singles find offbeat romance, and couples make novel choices to spice up their relationships. Your needs change as you evolve through the fall. The changes you make in October help your finances and lifestyle to improve all at once. Taurus and Aquarius adore you."

Hmmm. Horoscopes really are mindless crap, aren't they?

40 was a good year. Not as good as I intended, but good in its own way. But yes, I have the exact same resolutions this year as I did last, and as I've had, in some form or fashion, every year. I think being over 40 means you start to become more accepting of your place in the world. It is what it is, you know?

*not really

Turn around

We have my daughter enrolled for the second year in a summer co-op pre-school, which means it's organized and staffed by parents, generally the moms. I've gotten to know a few of the moms over the past two years, though haven't made the leap to outside of school connections. There's one mom though I've always liked. She was diagnosed with thyroid cancer this spring and had an operation just before summer started. She seems to be doing ok with recovery. I like her because she's open and honest and direct and common-sensical. She calls it like she sees it, and we generally see things the same way.

One day a couple of weeks ago we were the two parents moving the kids to the gym area and as the kids ran ahead and started to play we were chatting about stuff in general when suddenly talked turned to life. She said, it's just been a really rough time, lost a pregnancy last spring, husband quit his stable job to open his own startup, economy collapses and his business is failing, I've not worked in 4 years and have to find work now, cancer, always thought I'd have three kids and now once things are back on track we'll look into adopting, I'm just so angry all of the time - so angry - and I'm taking it out on him for everything. Jsut a rough time.

I did those general female support things, nodded, made appropriate mummurs of empathy, etc. While inside I was blown away - by her honestly, by her matter of factness in reciting this litany of crap. And then the moment passed, and the kids demanded our attention, and I just filed it away.

And the next week her kid developed pneumonia and was hospitalized (though it was not too serious, her son just required oxygen support for a few days). I sent her an e-mail, replying to the news, and said it really seemed like she was in the shitstorm, and I had been though my own period of crap - one that lasted almost two years. I ran through the list- lost baby, marital problems, lost a job, money worries, family illness, family issues, etc (though was very careful to word in such a way that I wasn't comparing and certainly nothing like fighting cncer in the middle of it all - I imagine a cancer survivor is sensitive to "I know just what you're going through, I stubbed my toe last week!"). She wrote a nice note back from the hospital room thanking me for sharing, and I wrote her back saying I think everyone goes throuh their own various hellish periods, and the more we're honest about life sometimes sucking, the easier it is to get support during those times.

So, who knows. Maybe a new friendship is emerging. But, I tell this overly long story for a few reasons. As always, you never know what others are going through. I do think honesty begets honesty (at some level). After all, my litany of crap was heavily edited. Left out the crazy inlaws, the infidelity, the divorce lawyer consulted, the huge sums of money spent on counseling, the firing, the lawyers, the stress. You can't look from the outside and presume to know what's happening in a family. From the outside, heck, other than my obvious weight problem, I look pretty darn good, too. Two kids, a good job, supportive husband, fun activities. You don't see the scars or damage below the surface.

But, it also made me think, as I was typing out this sanitized version of the great shitstorm of '07, what were the parameters of this shitstorm? And when did it end? 'Cause, much to my surprise, I realized it did end. It felt endless when in the middle of it, and without a doubt there are lingering effects, but if something bad were to happen now, it'll be a new bad thing - no longer a continuation of what started in early '07. It didn't end with the birth in November. Those first early baby days were hard. The little guy settling down and getting on a schedule and us all adjusting to his presence helped turn the corner. (oh lord, am I totally jinxing myself even typing this? Am I asking for trouble?). Getting the call of this new job, and starting the job, and having positive feedback I was a valuable member of the team - that's really what helped set my ship a little straighter in the water. Life isn't perfect. But it's a whole heck of a lot better than it was a year ago. Or two years ago. Oh, there are plently of things out there to knock me off course - the ever present inlaw issue. The Marriage and What To Do about our issues. Plenty of other shoes that could drop. New things to constantly worry about. PLENTY.

I feel like I'm emerging, blinking, from the darkness. And that, for now, is good. A fragile good, but good nonetheless. For now. I can't - and won't - stop caveating. More than anything, I think, surviving a shitstorm teaches you to be humble. There's not much that keeps me or anyone from the bad.

timing is everything

A true story. Really. So when I left my last full time job, in January 08, I bought my computer from work. It contains all my pictures, all my files, and my music. A MacBook Pro. Awesome computer. Of course, at work, it was backed up regularly. Here, no backup. And, with the 7000 pictures, 5000 songs, and endless files and e-mails, it was bumping up, hard, against the memory capacity of the machine.

So, the perfect plan. Once I get paid from my new job, I would buy a Mac specific back up device. Maybe the time capsule thing, maybe just an external hard drive for now.

My husband bought us a big, cumbersome PC hard drive. I'd moved a few archival files to it - all the movies we've taken these past years. But transferring files, backing up to this PC device is a HUGE pain in the ass. Huge. I was waiting for a mac specific device that would make it easy, fast, and relatively painfree. Yes, I have a new computer with this new job. Yes, it's a mac. No, I did not transfer files. Yes, I am an idiot.

I got my paycheck from this job on Monday, deposited it on Tuesday. Check cleared yesterday. And Wednesday night my computer - my life - crashed. Utter and complete fail. The night before the check cleared. Not that I would have rushed out Thursday and bought the drive. But still. Let's talk about timing.

So, a visit with the genius bar yesterday. He's going to try to access the hard drive today and transfer all the files to another device. I should get a call. My machine is sending conflicting signals about what's wrong. It's unclear whether he'll be able to access the drive, in which case it gets sent out for recovery of whatever can be recovered. The list of all the present we received for the little guy, and the thank you notes still to be written. The Christmas card list, totally updated this year, with all addresses right. Evidence from my husband cheating. Songs ripped from friends CDs. Songs ripped from our extensive CD collection - hours and hours and hours of ripping. Resignation letter I was forced to write from 3 jobs ago. Thankfully, not my resume, I'd transferred that over. Every picture from the past 5 years (my husband has some, but not all - but probably 75%). Every e-mail sent the past 5 years (I like to say I'm keeping them for my memoirs). Stupid stuff, random stuff, funny stuff, important stuff, irreplaceable stuff. All in one machine.

Seriously. In what universe does a 2.5 year old machine FAIL with this timing? The night before the check clears?

So please tell me I'm not the only one who fails to back up. I know I'm not. Tell me recovery works. Tell me the geniuses really are and I will get an it's all fine call in just a little while.

eta - They were able to access the hard drive and transfer 100% of my files. WHEW. Now I buy the back up drive, they move the files there, and it's all good, except for the broken machine. Based on how it's acting, they believe the logic board went. I have to decide if I want the machine repaired ($300). From Tash's comments, this machine is from the same time as hers, and even though I love it, it's always had some low level weirdness that perhaps wasn't so benign. I'll hold off repairing it for now, but maybe next paycheck. With sufficient backup, it'll will be cheaper to repair it, and that way I'll have a work laptop and a home laptop.

In with the new

I have a bunch to catch up on (the baptism was fine, btw), but I remembered that when I turned 40 in August, I typed out some year 40 resolutions. So I just went back and checked them. Since it's the beginning of the year, and 1/3 of the way through my 40th (or is it 41st?) year, thought I'd see how I was doing.

1. More toned. I've made zero progress. Absolutely zip. And those two pounds I reported last week? Turns out a diet of mint M&Ms (mmmm, holiday mint M&Ms are THE BEST) will put two pounds on you. But seriously, I really do want some arm strength. So my plan is on Monday, when my husband goes back to work and my parents leave and real life starts back up (we've definitely been in an interlude these past 5 weeks), I'm going to sart with weight exercises, and also next week ramp up my walking with the little guy. My boots fit on my left calf, but my right calf is still too big, but not by too much. I might just fit into tall boots this winter.

2. Marriage. Sigh. I could type a novel. But I like what I typed back in August - either happily married or happily not. We were in joint counseling when I was pregnant, and it helped. I need that third person there to be able to share what I'm thinking. There are some great things about my husband and our life together. There are also some incredibly crappy things, not even considering moving past infidelity. I am still so hurt - and so angry. I really don't know how this one will turn out.

3. Out of debt and working. I still have that part-time job possibility. They said they'd call references next week. They also told me the contract amount, and it's decent. Decent enough to continue to live frugally, slowly pay off debt, finish smallish, neccessary house projects, and maybe, just maybe build up some savings. Or at least go on a small vacation. Otherwise, next week I also start back the networking and job applying thing. I have a handful of jobs for which to apply, and there's just been no time. Next week when the house is quiet (relatively).

4. Organized. I spent a lot of the fall decluttering. We threw out a ton, donated another ton. There is now a playroom in the basement, where before it was crammed full of old crap. The front bedroom was also cleaned out. In the next month or so we'll transition my daughter out of her small room into a bigger bedroom, and eventually the little man will be out of our room into the small nursery room. The attic office needs some painting and needs furniture. Painting could happen this spring, furniture depends on the job.

If I was grading myself, I'd have to be a tough grader and give myself a C. Some real progress, but some things not started, some still unknown. Despite grade inflation, a C is not bad. The only thing about my list is it's so typical, lose weight, get in shape, get organized. Not an original thought on the list, and certainly, as typed out here, too vague to be useful. For myself, I'll make these more concrete and achievable and will have to report back, hmm, April? 2/3 of the way through my 40th year.

I think I'll add to this list get my blogging life in order. There's just been no time - no quiet time - to post, or comment, or organize the blog. I appreciate the comments and want to get out into blogland more this year.

So, are you a resolution maker? The usual, or something more unusual?

blog love

Yay! Someone hearts my blog!

Always nice to be hearted, especially when it comes with a meme. Answer these questions with one word answers (yikes! 1 word! Brevity is not my strong suit. I may cheat.).

1. Where is your cell phone? Back pocket
2. Where is your significant other? Work
3. Your hair color? Golden brown
4. Your mother? Trying (both senses of the word)
5. Your father? Himself
6. Your favorite thing? Feeling glamorous
7. Your dream last night? Did I dream?
8. Your dream/goal? internal peace
9. The room you're in? Master bedroom
10. Your hobby? pastime? Blogging!
11. Your fear? Abandonment
12. Where do you want to be in six years? Happy
13. Where were you last night? Bed
14. What you're not? Together
15. One of your wish list items? JOB
16. Where you grew up? Small, small town America. You know, real, pro-America
17. The last thing you did? Grocery shopped
18. What are you wearing? Too big maternity jeans that keep sliding off. HATE.
19. Your T.V.? Prominent
20. Your pet? Siamese cat/semi-Westie dog
21. Your computer? Full
22. Your mood? Surprisingly cheerful
23. Missing someone? Not currently
24. Your car? Forrester
25. Something you're not wearing? Anything remotely stylish
26. Favorite store? Target
27. Your Summer? Gone
28. Love someone? Yes
29. Your favorite color? Multi/brightly/not neutral
30. When is the last time you laughed? 8 am
31. Last time you cried? Last Friday.

So who do I heart? Many many. Antigone's been tagged, as has one of my favs where I lurk, I'm a smart one.

Am I doing ok?
Wabi-Sabi Life
The Muddled Sage
Jeez Louise
Please Give me Back My Heart

And, it looks like other people have been tagged already, so I'll stop at 5.

But this reminds me, as part of year 2, I want to do a little cleaning up and reorganizing. If you're a reader and want a blog link in the good old blog roll, let me know! I've slowly been adding blogs to my reader, but haven't done any cleaning up here since last year, so I'm past due.

Blog-iversary

Today is my one year blog-iversary. If I had my act together, I could have timed it to also be my 200th post, but I've been a blogging slacker this week.

Wow. A year. A long, long year of lots of ups and downs and downs and a lot of medium, too. Getting to know other bloggers and creating a bit of a community online - a high. So thanks for reading and commenting and just making this a nice place to be. I told Antigone when I met her that for me, blogging was journaling. But that in real life, I've never managed to journal for more than, um, a day. So this is a meaningful date, in a time period of remembering too many bad anniversaries.

So I was thinking about boxes. A year later, which boxes am I checking?

Pregnant? Check. 36 weeks tomorrow.
Married? Check. Still, and working on it. Slowly. Verrrrr-rrrrry slowly.
Unemployed? Check. Unhappily so.

I ask in my header - happy? Sad? Angry? Can I check, check check? All of the above, though angry is, and will always be, tough for me.

And I've been tagged by the awesome Tash, so I have a post for tomorrow. See you then. And next week, and for, I hope, the long haul.

things that are not 'not stressful'

A root canal. Yes. A ROOT CANAL. It wasn't all that bad, but it certainly wasn't pleasant. I need to go back in about two weeks for a crown. The thing is until I was pregnant with my daughter, I had never had a cavity, had never had braces. I have now had two cavities, a tooth that was going bad and cracked, and a root canal. The trend is not good.

The Dark Knight. We still went to the movies last night and saw the latest Batman movie. I know we don't see many movies these days, but that may be one of the most stressful, high intensity movies ever made. After the opening few scenes I looked at my watch and realized it had been non stop for 30 minutes, and there was still 2 hours to go. My blood pressure had to be sky high after that movie. Good movie though, with only a few oh come on moments. And Heath Ledger was great, but am I the only one who felt he was playing Jim Ignatowski's crazier brother? There was definitely a Christopher Lloyd tinge to that. (to the nth degree, yes, but still there).

Having a 401k at AIG. what else is there to say. Can I roll it over? Haven't had time to check into my options, if any.

Cat vomit. Took him to the vet Monday, due for shots. A few years back he had an intestinal blockage, which cost $3k. Which I believe we may still be paying off. How did we know? Cat could not keep anything down. Yesterday he ate then threw up three times. No, that's not right. He ate three times then had prolonged vomiting fits all over the house, throwing up 4-6 times in a row. Today, so far, no vomit. Fingers crossed.

So, that's my week since the doctor told me to avoid stress. And that's on top of the usual - you know, the pregnancy, the toddler, the nanny, the money, the job, the husband, the in-laws, the parents, the roof, the car........What's not not stressing you out right now?

Piling on

No stress. Right. Pretty close to a pipe dream, as Tash so correctly pointed out.

I had a check up today, my parents dropped me off. They were talking politics and I was chewing lifesavers like there was no tomorrow. And I cracked a freaking tooth. CRACKED. A TOOTH.

Breathing. Dentist appointment tomorrow morning. I am quite proud that it's been three hours and I have not worried at it at all, so actually I am not quite sure how bad it is. Except I know it is CRACKED. For the love of God. On a Lifesaver. Isn't that ironic? Or something?

Oh, also, it appears I have gained THREE POUNDS in one week. Except I usually go to the doctor in the morning, and this appointment was right after a fairly heavy lunch. So I'm not stressing over that. Much. Otherwise, appointment was fine (and doctor gave ok for narcs, if I need them. Which I probably will).

My husband and I are going out to dinner tonight and then the movies, my parents are babysitting. So let's hope I remember with every single stinking bite of food to only eat on the left side. Like that will happen. And I suppose no popcorn, and isn't that the whole point of going to the movies???????

Oh. But there's good news - Harris Teeter is AGAIN having triple coupons. And I am again absurdly excited. AND, on Thursdays they offer an extra 5% off for senior citizens. I get my love of bargains from my parents, so they are also excited to come to the store. My dad is fussing at my mom for not bringing her coupons with her on the trip (I didn't think I'd go grocery shopping on my vacation! fusses back my mom). So, after I get my tooth drilled or filled or crowned or FUCKING EXTRACTED, god help me, I can go to the grocery store. What a life. At least I am not alone in my coupon madness (here's looking at you, Astarte).

My mom is voting for Obama. My dad might not. They live in a swing state, so at a minimum they'd cancel each other out, so that's not bad. Not worth a cracked tooth, though.

Seven Years Later

I lived in Washington, DC on 9/11.

All the remembrances start the same way, don't they? What a gloriously beautiful September day it was. We woke up humming little happy tunes because of the break in the weather and the clear blue sky. We were later than usual that day. My husband and I aren't morning people - we were usually out of the house somewhere around 9ish, he'd drop me off at work, and cross the river to his job in Virginia. I got out of the shower about ten minutes before 9, my husband jumped in. I walked into our room, toweling off my hair, to see Diane and Charlie on the couch saying they weren't sure what was happening, but here was footage of some sort of plane, a small plane?, crashing into the World Trade Center. I watched a few minutes, it got more confusing. The important national news broke into the morning fluff show, and no one really knew anything, except that something not normal was happening. "I think - I think - I think maybe we're being attacked?!" I called into the bathroom. My husband came in the room, what? We got dressed and ready, watching a very confused scene.

Finally made it downstairs, and turned on the kitchen TV, continuing our routine of getting ready, but a a much slower pace than normal. Suddenly they cut from New York to local scenes - a shot from DC, looking at the Pentagon. We don't know what's going on, but there's smoke coming from what seems to be one side, or behind, or near the Pentagon. I looked at my husband - I don't think you're going to work today. I don't think you should cross the river.

We drifted into the living room. It's hard to describe now how confusing it all was. He wasn't going to go to work, but we both thought I still should. We knew it was planes, big planes, but didn't know much else.

We saw the first tower go down. My husband covered his face with his hands - the bastards. It was still confusing. I called work - do you all know what's going on? They didn't. Turn on the TV. My husband took me to work - 5 minutes away by car. I walked into my office. My phone rang - a colleague, a friend, in San Francisco - are you ok? yes, I'm ok. I guess. We don't know.

I got a call from another California colleague - why aren't you on the conference call? Um, have you seen the news? I know it's early there, but I don't think we're having a conference call today. I had my radio on. Report of a car bomb at the state department. Report of a bomb going off by the Washington Monument, taking it down. I frantically looked out my window - could I usually see the monument from my window? I couldn't remember, but couldn't see it. I ran down the hall because you could see it from the front windows. It was still there. I started to cry a bit. Our small office was in shock - only 8 people, we huddled together watching the TV. We'd peel off and call friends, call family, field calls. More than half the time there was no getting through. One of my best friend's husband worked in the Pentagon, for the Navy. I never reached her, but other friends called, he was ok. Later I was back in my office, my phone rang again, my dad. The only time I've ever heard him sound afraid - why are you at work? Get out of there. There are reports of other planes, headed to DC. Go home. The Metro was closed. The buses weren't running. People were walking in droves up the middle of the street, trying to get home. The pay phone in front of our building had a line 25 people long waiting to use it.

I was a senior person at work. I felt I needed to stay until everyone knew how they were getting home. The one person who absolutely needed public transportation agreed to go home with another colleague who lived close to me, a 35 minute walk home. My husband called, please come home. I need you here.

I made it home just after lunch. We huddled together on the couch, watching, watching. We didn't turn the TV off for the rest of the week. We lay in bed watching, until we drifted into uneasy sleep. We woke early, snapping alert for the latest news. The sky was quiet - no planes, no helicopters. Later that week I was walking the dog and heard a helicopter overhead and flinched in fear. By Saturday I needed to run an errand that took me across the river, into Virginia, past the Pentagon. Traffic was snarled with various road closures, and I sat in the car, trying not to breathe the noxious burning fumes that still hung in the air.

Of the 8 of us in the office, every single person knew someone who died in NY, in Pennsylvania, in the Pentagon. I knew a woman on the plane that hit the Pentagon - not well, she had done a project with other colleagues a few jobs past. My former colleagues were bitter and devastated. My co-worker who lived close by me had a close friend on a plane. I've forgotten which. My other co-workers had gone to school with someone in the WTC, or a neighbor of their parents, or some other connection. Every one of us had some personal connection, mine the most distant. In the weeks after, we stocked the office with flashlights, with granola bars, with emergency kits. We developed evacuation plans. We watched overhead as the planes started back up - DC was no-fly for longer than anywhere else. Every time a plane or helicopter flew by, we stopped and watched.

I still, sometimes, with DC friends, feel the need to talk about those days. Where we were, what we did.

I ran an errand this morning, got home, saw a neighbor had the flag out. I briefly wondered why, and then in a snap remembered. And put our flag out. I still feel the need to tell my story, my version, where I was, what I did that day 7 years ago when the world, literally, stood still in shock and horror.

apparently it's not their loss

My husband talked to his brother last night, starting to ease into what we've anticipated will be a tension filled time (daughter's upcoming birthday, baby's pending birth, reliving last fall). I thought I had lost the capacity to be surprised by my in-laws. And I was quite wrong.

The backstory: my in-laws live about 2 hours north of us. My husband went to college about 2.5 hours south of us. My husband and his father are huge college football fans, and my husband has season tickets to his alma mater. Since my daughter's birth, I go rarely, my husband tends to drive down and back to 4 or 5 of the 6 or 7 games. Maybe once a year we spend one night. His parents tend to go to two or so games a year, often making a long weekend out of it, leisurely driving, spending time in bed and breakfasts and touring around the countryside.

My daughter loves to go to games - you'd think the heat and the tedium and the game would bore her, but she loves every bit of it. The three of us went to the overly hot opening game two weeks ago (just as we did a year ago, bleah) and had a good time. But this past weekend was a patsy game, opponent not important, and right in the middle of the afternoon nap. Plus, you might remember, Gustav blowing through. So we skipped, and ate the cost of the 4 tickets.

My brother in law tells my husband that his parents went! Drove 4.5 hours, right past our city, and down to the game for their long weekend. My father in law bought tickets online, and sat in a different area of the stadium.

This might be too particular and specific an example to really explain. There are times I read other's stories (nothing recently, I have nothing specific in mind!) and think, hmm, well, that seems a little petty but I'm sure there's history here I don't know (the blog world: giving each other the benefit of the doubt). Football is really important to my husband and his father. My husband, as the season started, has thought more than once of calling his father to wish his team well. We have 4 tickets to our games. In laws could have gotten tickets from us. Did they even come by our section of the stadium? Did they expect to see is? Try to avoid seeing us? Hope to see us? Hope to not see us?

Do they give a damn at all that it's been 9 months since they've seen us? Seen their son? Or seen our daughter? That they've missed nearly 1/3 of her life? Does my father in law care?

I was nearly speechless last night with disgust and outrage. I spend so much time fretting over this relationship, worrying about how it will resolve, feeling guilty about my daughter slowly forgetting her grandparents. And for what? For nothing. It just seems they've washed their hands of us, decided their one closer granddaughter is enough, and oh well. They are, without a doubt, the most self-centered people I have ever met.

My brother in law had originally called because his family and the parents are renting a house on the Outer Banks for a week and we're invited to come for as long as we'd want. Um, no. It's this coming Sat to the next Sat. My daughter's birthday is the following Monday. So no worries about them showing up for her birthday, since they'll be driving much of the weekend. That takes that worry away, at least.

I said to my husband, forget it. Let's just have the baby and send them an announcement. Or better yet, send all their friends announcements but not them.

This did lead us into a longer talk about (parts of) the bigger picture. I know it hurts my husband, and he feels shame and embarrassment at how his family treats him. Particularly in contrast to how my family has forgiven him and embraced him back despite his treatment of me. It hurts me, too. His mother made it clear I wasn't needed in the family and she was happy to cut me loose. I don't want to feel the cause of this rift. I grew up in a loving extended family - spent time with my grandparents. Spent weekends with my aunt. One of my cousins would spend a week or two with us every summer. Some subtle forms of favoritism played out in my family, and I remember those small hurts or slights, remember confusion as a child at adult relationships I couldn't understand. The thought of subjecting my daughter to a level of craziness 100 times worse than I ever experienced is heartbreaking to me. I won't have it. I won't have her cry that her grandmother loves her cousin more than her. Or be scared by my brother in law's drinking and cursing and wild, stupid behavior.

My mother's mother was an alcoholic, and by all accounts, a fairly mean drunk. She died when I was 11. I didn't find this out about her until I was in my late teens. I never saw it, though I did see those small, subtle things. It's made a big impression on my husband that my parents told us that when I was born, they went to her and said, you will not drink around our daughter. You will not act this way, or you will not be a part of her or our lives. My parents set boundaries, and those boundaries worked. But my parents also worked to show us the good side, to build positive memories.

My husband appreciates my family, warts and all, perhaps more than I realize. He also appreciates that despite it all, I want my daughter and unborn son to have a rich, extended family, to build memories that will last a lifetime. My husband's mother prevented that for him. Started family feuds, pitted cousins against each other, played stupid power struggles.

My husband and I are moving to a place - slowly, in fits and starts, and with a long way to go - of building our own life. Of creating what is important to us, of holding family close, of nurturing long friendships that matter as much as family. It is what I said yesterday. This is our life. You are welcome to join us. It is your choice if you do not, and your loss.

the list

I did make a list of things to talk about with the new counselor - I started making a timeline, but that grew too tedious. So I just clipped the second to last paragraph, added some more things (more?!) I had forgotten and tucked it into my purse. I never pulled it out, but I think I remembered almost everything. Like Clickmom said in her comment, I should have booked at least a double session - she had scheduled longer than one session, but I took every second of the 75 minutes alloted. And we scheduled for next week, too.

I haven't told my husband, but probably will after next time. I think he needs some counseling, and I think we need that space to talk freely. Because what came up time and time again as her saying, well, do you talk about it? Nope, not a word. We have perfectly functional conversations, but never dive any deeper than that. Do you think that's weird? It is weird, when I think about it. How can we be sitting on this mountain of stuff and pretend it's not there?

The biggest realization? I made it through so many elements of my life story with slight trembling of voice and tears in my ears sometimes. I relayed deeply personal things without batting an eye. I talked of hurts and betrayals that wound me to the core. And when it came to the point of telling the pregnancy loss part, I sobbed. That was the only time I lost it. She asked me how I dealt with that now and I said, mostly, I don't. Everything else has piled on top of it, burying it, I thought I was mostly done with that part, but clearly I am not. Clearly I am not. I told her about the coping story I had read, and how I thought I had coped - it happened, it sucked, other things have sucked more, before and since. (This still remains my favorite set of comments ever - so thoughtful, so much truth in them). In thinking about it more, I think I have mostly coped, but the hurt is deep. I can type about it, but can't talk about it. There is only one other thing in my life that's as deep - my mother's sister died of breast cancer 11 years ago. My daughter is named for her. I cannot speak of it at all, and have not and cannot join in all the breast cancer awareness raising that many people seem to embrace after a loss like this. My sister once gave me a pink ribbon, and I cannot, will not, wear it. It's too deep, too personal a loss. Maybe my way of coping, with the deep down stuff, is denial (hello Niobe - we have much in common).

Anyway, the other stuff. We spoke about the inlaw situation. Unlike other advice I have received, she got that this was an untenable situation that was causing me much anxiety (the advice from my friends - the blogging advice was spot on, thanks again, another great set of comments). The thought they may show up here, or at the hospital, unannounced, unplanned - yikes. Stress through the roof. She suggested I talk this through with my husband. He must take some level of control of this situation, for me and the baby if nothing else. Which means setting boundaries. She suggested a script of him calling them, telling them about the pregnancy, that it was a difficult pregnancy, and that our top concern was having a healthy baby and mother, which meant we'd talk to them after the baby was born and have a visit sometime after.

I was going to wait a few days to bring it up, but instead talked about it over dinner. He agreed something had to give. We talked about birthday plans and rest of pregnancy plans. My daughter's birthday is a Monday, two weeks from yesterday, and so instead of having a party on the weekend, we'll just have a family dinner (my parents, my brother and family) over for dinner Monday. That mitigates any pressure husband's brother might put on us or on himself to come to a party - and negates brother in law from unexpectedly bringing in-laws along. We might do something fun on Sunday, and brother in law can choose to join in.

After my daughter was in bed we sat on the couch and talked some more. I said what do you want to talk about? And he suggested plans for daughter's schooling. Ahhhhh. Another functional talk (with no way to reach a resolution and quite a bit of stress involved, btw). I said why that? He said because of the 50 things we could talk about, this one popped to mind. We ended up talking more about his parents. I had never really thought of this before, but husband said it hurt to think how little they cared for our daughter as evidenced by nearly 9 months of silence. Yes. It's similar to how I feel about them, too - how quickly my mother in law said well, it's for the best this marriage is over. How quickly she was ready to throw me and daughter over when it was so awful last fall. It hurts. I am sad for my husband that his father has walked away. I am sad for my daughter that her grandparents don't seem to care.

The counselor was right - what we can do is say, this is our life. You are welcome to be a part of it, if you respect us and our choices. And if you choose otherwise, it is your choice - and your loss.

new counselor, new counseling

Tomorrow is my first appointment with a new counselor. I know, having been through this drill before, that the first appointment is kind of getting to know you and figuring out where you are and how counseling can be approached. I'm a teeny bit stuck, though, on how this is going to go tomorrow. She's the experienced one, so I'll follow her lead, but I have a LOT of freaking ground to cover.

I've written a couple of times about the past few years. Hmm, here's one. There's another, I know, but I don't feel like weeding through to find it. Bottom line is a lot of shit has happened over the past few years.

I was a little sad Thursday night about the delay in the job (absolute end of my rope frustration just gave way to tired sadness, finally). My husband and I just sprawled out on our bed watching crap TV, him trying to just be there for me. At one point I said, I just don't know where my life went so off track. And, I meant all of it - him, the marriage, the in-laws, working, fertility, the whole damn thing. After a few quiet minutes, he said, maybe it's not off track, maybe this is the track it's supposed to be.

And yeah, in some ways he's right. There is no one point where it All Went Wrong. It just is. And it's now all bad, but lately it's been a lot of bad.

I think I want/need to go to counseling to focus on getting it - my life - in some sort of order that works more often than not. I can't hold onto everything. But I also can't just let go of somethings. And most importantly, some things aren't going to just disappear. I fret a lot - A LOT - about the in-laws. While believe me, I LOOOOVVEEE where we are now - not speaking, not interacting, no contact - that just doesn't seem to be a situation that can be maintained. Last week my brother in law texted my husband - can we talk about something? My husband ignored it for a few days, thinking it was about my daughter's 3rd birthday, coming up soon, and how his parents might want to be here for it. But he did call his brother, left a message, and hasn't heard back. With the start of college football season, my husband has mentioned calling his dad, another fanatic, more than once. I'm nearly 7 months pregnant and they don't have any idea (I don't think, but brother in law could have spilled the beans in his "helpful" way). I feel something building, and know there will be a break sometime.

So, while there are any number of ways to focus this appointment tomorrow, I think my ultimate goal is to get through all of the story enough to even get to the part where the in-laws become a factor. Because, all these months later, I still don't know what is a reasonable, sane response to insanity. And goal #2 is focusing on some level of rebuilding this marriage in a way that works for me and for him, too. Weird that's the secondary goal. I feel sometimes we could just keep going on the marriage, without "working" on it, but I know that's only patchwork for another couple of years, and we need to get beyond all this and get to something new.

My list is long - the marriage, the betrayal, healing after betrayal, still hurting after betrayal, in-law insanity, body issues, pregnancy, pregnancy loss, job loss, sense of self loss, guilt over job loss/finances, anxiety over jobs, working mom vs stay at home guilt.......where do you even start?

Anyway, my point is I think I'm going to write a little cheat sheet to make sure I get through everything - as complete a story as I can. What do you think? If you were starting counseling, and there were half dozen or so reasons why you wanted counseling, how would you approach the first meeting?

40 + 4

Still stuck on the birthday theme. It's not often you cross a major milestone, so it's a period of reflection and looking ahead.

Aurelia wrote a great post about turning 40 - she's ahead of me by 6 days. She listed a few vows she made for her 40th year. Or wait, it's actually our 41st year, right, cause there's that zero year in there? I'm always confused by that. So here are my resolutions.

Like Aurelia, I want a muscle. Several of them, to be exact. I've gotten myself in sort-of shape before. I've never been really in shape, but I've had muscle, and I know I can again. Part of it is vanity, of course. My calves the past few years have really grown. I was whining to a friend yesterday that my fall/winter look is tall boots, dark tights, and knee length skirts. But there's no way I'm cramming these calves into boots this fall and probably not much of the winter either. So what to wear? But also I want arm muscles. I have no upper body strength at all and I want that to change. I can't (even when not pregnant) pull myself out of a pool, for example. But a lot of this is health related too. With two small kids, as an older mom, i want to be able to keep up with them. I don't want to sit on the couch and watch TV with them, I want to be out and about exploring the world with them. So this resolution is for me, for my husband (he'd like a more toned wife, too), and my kid(s). I can do this. I know I can.

I want to be happily married - or not married. Which means starting up the counseling again. We need to work through our issues, not just hope that time will take care of the hurt. It won't, and our marriage, and our child(ren)'s lives will suffer because of it. I want to heal, one way or another, and I know it's a long process, but I can be an active part.

I want to be out of debt. I just put this aside during much of my money worries this summer, but part of the money worries is that we're carrying credit card debt. That has to end.

This of course requires getting a job. I'm working on it. Had an interview this week and I really think it went well. I had to do a two-page idea paper for another job (interview in September) and I just finished it and e-mailed it off. Fingers crossed.

And finally, I want to be organized. I want this house organized. I know that's a tall order, given how much CRAP we have, but I've made progress this summer, and honestly, to put a baby in here we have to make much more progress. I work best against a deadline, so by November we'll have the front bedroom cleaned out, the attic remodel done, and more progress in the basement. We'll get there.

I have to end this the same way Aurelia did - 40 is going to be a kick ass year for me.

Post 40

Well, here I am 40 + 3 days, and I'm surviving. No huge meltdowns, no disasters. Just day by day life as usual, for the most part. Except for the writers block. There's a lot going on, and I can't find a way to corral my thoughts and exercise some discipline and get things done. But what else is new, that's fairly standard for me, so can't blame my lack of focus on suddenly being 40, either.

Even though, you know, it's crap, one of the first things I do every birthday morning is grab the paper and read my if today is your birthday annual projection horoscope. Here was mine:

"Just as soon as you finish the unfinished business, new projects entice you. By the start of October you're on to exciting, fresh adventures. Your personal life sparkles in November. Open your big heart to the world and make room for the unexpected - you may get exactly what you wanted, and then some."

Hmmm. I'll take it.

Do you read your horoscope?

Today

Yesterday was a weepy day. At least 4 occasions of tears.

There's a post to come about my husband's terrible money management skills, taught to him by his awful, terrible, boy how I hate them parents, but that's for another day.

I realized yesterday that basically, this is a rough week. As much as I would dearly love to forget the date, today is the one year anniversary of the due date of my lost pregnancy. I can tell myself a million times due dates don't mean anything (my daughter? 7 days late), but it's still a milestone.

And my 9th wedding anniversary - you know, the day my husband stood up and promised to forsake all others - is the 7th.

Last year we drove home from our week-long beach vacation on this day. I thought it had been an absolutely glorious, nearly perfect vacation. A few months later my husband disabused me of that notion, explaining one of the nights he stayed up later than me he was planning his escape. He also told me he had intentionally wiped the due date from his mind, so that explains why on the ride home I was quiet and he was irritable - which we both chalked up to end of vacation blues, I guess.

I grew up in this teeny, tiny hometown of 3,000 people. My best friend is a guy I've known since kindergarten. He married a woman from New Zealand and lives there now, and last year vacationed at his parent's house, with his three girls, twins my daughter's age (then nearly 2) and a 3.5 year old. We spent 4 of the 7 days with them, and it was fabulous. I thought. One of my college friends and her husband, with whom we traveled to the New Zealand wedding in 2003, who currently lives 1000 miles away and has a daughter who was 4, and who had become friends with my hometown friend, came to visit for 2 days, too.

I found out my college friend was going to be able to visit about a week before the vacation. I called my husband at work and nearly cried from sheer joy - the thought of spending time with these two close friends and all our kids together, playing on the beaches and boardwalks of my youth. It was a moment of sheer, piercing joy. A joy I hadn't experienced in a long, long time, given the pregnancy loss 6 months before.

My husband and I rented a condo for the week and spent time plotting how we could buy an investment property at the beach. I came home with hundreds of pictures - mine and from my friends. Great pictures of 6 happy adults in the prime of their lives, with their happy, healthy 5 girls. I planned to actually print these out, put them in a memory book - a week well worth remembering and celebrating and reminiscing. I rode home from the beach in a bittersweet mood - realizing that had my lost baby been born, we never would have had this perfect vacation. I never did print out all the pictures, and a mere two months later discovered my husband's perfidy and duplicity.

I've written before that my husband stole my past, present, and future. This is how he stole the past. How do I view that vacation (our last for a long time) now? I can't view it as perfect and golden, because it wasn't. It is tainted. And my present? My anniversary on Thursday? Right now, it still makes me sick to my stomach to think of celebrating that day. Based on how easily he can discard his vows, it has no meaning to him, though he will suggest lunch out and a card. I'll get him a simple card and just sign it, and that's all I can manage for a long, long time. And my future? The jury's still out on that, isn't it? This summer has been hard, reliving last summer. The signs I missed, the lies he told. The fall will be tougher, amplified by all these lovely pregnancy hormones floating about. It's hard not to think I've made a Faustian bargain with the devil - relative security and help raising child(ren) now, for what? Further infidelity in two years? 5 years? 10 years? Divorce, or me putting up with a serial cheater to maintain a household for my child(ren)? Am I now one of those women who turns a blind eye to maintain what I have in life?

My college friend had her second child, a boy, in May. My New Zealand friend's wife is pregnant with their 4th, a boy, due in October. I'm pregnant with my second, a boy, due in November.

We're all casually kicking around travel to NZ in 2011, for the Rugby World cup. 6 happy adults, 5 girls, 3 boys. It could be a perfect, glorious, golden holiday. The kind you talk about in your old age. The pictures would be amazing. Will they tell the true story?

summer plans

My birthday is coming up in a few weeks. We traditionally vacation for a few days around my birthday, close to my hometown, by the beach. So yesterday my husband called around and found a cheap hotel room, $100/night, which is a great rate. We'd go three nights. Of course, we'd also need to do something with our dog, so that adds to our total. Then meals out, activities...it adds up fast. A $500 weekend, easy.

And the day before yesterday my husband asked if there should be presents. Well, it's my birthday, shouldn't there be presents? And it's my 40th birthday, too.

But, let's review. I have no job, no money coming in. We are still employing our nanny. Next month I have to dip into emergency savings to start covering expenses. There's a baby on the way in November.

On the other hand, we haven't had a vacation at all this summer. With my husband just having switched jobs in the spring, and the baby on the way, we want to maximize his time off for when the baby comes and the holidays. And now, the chance to spend three days away, no dog, no cat, no house, no distractions, just us having fun for three days is simply overwhelmingly tantalizing. I so want a small break, a pause, something different for just a little while.

I really, really want to go.

I want to cry just typing this out. The responsible, adult thing would be to cancel. We have until tomorrow to cancel the reservation. We could stay with one of my cousins, but that sort of defeats the whole purpose of getting away. We could stay one night with my cousin, and maybe that would be a good savings compromise. Camping is out, I'm too pregnant and too hot to enjoy that.

I really, really thought I'd have at least an inkling of a job by August 1. Still on hook for three jobs, with an interview this week. And 4 new possibilities for which to apply, but time is running out. On Friday I transferred money from savings to checking to cover August expenses, and it all just became real then. Since Friday, my anxiety over my joblessness and money worries has skyrocketed. Our car needs new brakes. Our ceiling is leaking. And I need a break.

Two years ago we took two vacations. And spent god knows how much money. A week in the Outer Banks with college friends of my husband. A week on Block Island for a friend of mine's wedding. Two refreshingly different beaches, two weeks of fun. Last year a weekly rental at the beach, too.

I'm convincing myself we need to cancel. And I'm becoming quite weepy about it. What would you do? What are your summer plans, in case I live vicariously through them?

huh - coping

One of my friends IRL sent me the following link to a Washington Post story.

One Way to Handle Grief: Just Get Over It

I don't know how long that link will work, but go check it out. Very interesting story about an associate professor of psychology at Carleton University in Ottawa, Christopher Davis. I googled him, but couldn't find anything in primary literature, so it's the Post story for now.

He studies how people respond to tragedy - in this case, the death of a loved one. His team spent years studying a group of family members after a mine explosion in Nova Scotia took 26 lives. After extensive interviews with their families, he divided the grievers into three groups.

We're familiar with two of the groups - the first are the mullers. They process the experience, look for meaning in the loss, and ultimately come to find a positive lesson from their loss. This group is also referred to as "successful grievers" - the ones the psychologists seem to enjoy working with the most - analyze the experience until you come to accept it for the meaning it brings you. The second are the chronic grievers, the ones who still ask why this happened, and have no answer for it. The loss experience shattered their belief in justice.

And the third group was a surprise, one not previously identified by others who study grief - the copers. They didn't ask why, and they didn't find meaning from the loss. They sort of said shit happens, and that's just the way it is, and yeah, it sucks but you move on.

This has really spoken to me in a number of ways. First, my counselor and I spent a lot of time (and money!) talking about how it's not ok to express emotion in my family of origin. It never really felt right to me. My family has emotion. My family doesn't dwell on emotion. Life happens, and you go on. They are copers. I am a coper, under relatively normal circumstances. This past year - 18 months - was an extraordinarily abnormal circumstance. Reading this article, at this point, this far removed, resonated.

In the (deadbabyland) blog world, there's periodic discussion of how the loss has changed you. And discussion - from me, too - about being a pessimist or optimist, and how everything has killed that optimism. I think now, for me, that's the wrong framework. It's more about how I cope with the loss (and subsequent loss of faith in my husband and marriage) than if my essential nature has been changed.

In a lot of ways, I've experienced all three strategies. I think, 18 months later, I've coped with the pregnancy loss, for the most part. I'm definitely not a successful griever. There's still bitterness and regret and a whole heap of other things there I don't want to deal with, cause I don't see the point. There's no greater lesson, there just is. I'm not one of the butterfly people - you know, the ones who get the butterfly tattoo because the soul of their dead child visited them in the form of an unusual butterfly in the garden one day (or repeatedly showed up just when they needed said soul to do so). Not to denigrate those people, but I am Not One Of Them. That strategy doesn't work for me. I went through a chronic griever phase - it sucked, and there was no meaning and no butterfly and no happiness and soulfulness and light. But now I've mostly moved to coping.

The loss of trust and faith in my marriage has been harder. It's still ongoing. I'm still very much in chronic grieving phase. But I know, intellectually, if we are to successfully keep this marriage going, chronic grieving isn't helping. My public face is very much of having coped and moved on. Our joint counselor, and my husband, tried the line that we needed to go through this experience to emerge stronger on the other side - the muller strategy. Which I reject with every fiber of my being. No, you don't have to treat your grieving wife like a psychological punching bag to revitalize your marriage. You don't, and I refuse to believe you do.

I think a lot about grief as I click through my blogroll and the other blogs not yet on my blogroll. And the IRL blogroll, untouched by any grief at all. I think a lot about Niobe, actually, who says repeatedly her grief is not like others, that it comes up short against the tide of grief on her blogroll. Every time she types that, I want to write a comment that says, to me your grief seems no more or no less than anyone else's. Different around the edges, in the particulars, yes, but essentially the same early dark days, followed by your own way of coping. I never leave that comment, it's too personal/complicated/something, and yet here I am with a whole paragraph about another woman's grief. And yet another woman's grief, too - Antigone is going through an impossibly rough time right now, and she write eloquently of getting through, of doing what needs to be done.

I think a lot about people experiencing the worse life has to offer. Of horrendous childhood survival rates, and how our ancestors (and many people in the world today) survive unfathomable grief of losing half their children before their 1st birthday. Or losing their entire families to horrible, tragic, senseless murders or genocides, whether it be the Holocaust, or Rwanda, or the latest multiple murder that makes the news. Or disease - cancer, HIV, depression. Is our way of coping, continuing, different today than it was 50 years ago? Is there a larger lesson to be learned, or is it just the way life works?

What do you think? Do you find a deeper meaning, or no meaning at all, from loss?

When it rains

The basement floods.

Math problem: if your rowhouse is 20 feet wide by 40 feet deep, and your basement floods to an average of about 2 inches deep, how much water did you vacuum, sweep, bucket, sponge, towel, and mop off the floor last night?

I don't know, my husband the math whiz could figure this out but converting inches deep to volume is not on my to-do list this morning. How many time did we empty the 12 gallon wet vac last night? 10? Probably more. 15? 20?

Last night was an extreme rain event - a lot in a short time. But the basement has been minor-ly flooding all summer during big storms. We know, we can see that there's something wrong with the gutter/drain system behind our house, and it's going to take a professional to figure it out.

Talk about stiff and sore - I'm loosening up but I definitely got a workout last night.

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Math problem #2: if, simultaneously, the ceiling of the kitchen is also leaking, which account should I transfer money from to cover? Associated logic problem: Can the same person cover both problems, or do we need a plumber and a ---- what? Carpenter?

The past few drought years are looking better and better in retrospect.

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Math problem #3: If you go to Lord & Taylor to pay off the remaining charges on your bill, finito, to zero, and it's beastly hot outside, so you wander, even though they have no maternity clothes and find a size 16 petite swing jacket that is very cute, priced 73.99, 50% off, plus 20% off coupon, how much use will you get out of it during and post pregnancy if you started pregnancy a size 12?

$30 for a quite nice, stylish jacket. If I get a job, it would be perfect for fall (and winter and spring). If I don't get a job, I could still get some wear out of it. If I lose baby weight quickly, it'll be no use in post-maternity. If, as likely, the baby weight comes off slowly, it'll be perfect for nursing and pumping and still looking professional and stylish. Hmmmm. I may have to go back, and if there's a 14 or possibly a 12 that fits it might be worth it. Oh, have I mentioned I've used up my "allowance" (my budget line item for myself) for July? Extra credit: Does that matter?

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Math problem #4: Your new Harris Teeter is offering TRIPLE coupons, Shout is on sale buy one get one free at 3.29, and you have a $.75 off coupon. How excited should you be?

I've lived in this city for 15 years and I have never, never seen triple coupons. I am absurdly excited. I spent yesterday afternoon going through coupons and plotting my shopping list. I even went to Harris Teeter yesterday and scoped out what else might be on sale that wasn't in the flyer. (In my defense, we were out of milk and HT even had organic milk on sale!) My entire Friday is planned around triple coupon day.

I need a job.

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Time for social studies: You exit your basement after midnight to find a giant firetruck in front of your house, shining spotlights on your house. What the hell? Firemen exit neighbor's house, you send husband down to talk to them, but fireman comes to door, explains we should be ok, given the construction of these rowhouses, but neighbor has lost part of her roof and her house in inundated with water. Great, husband exclaims, we just finished vacuuming out our basement, let's do the attic now. Fireman looks at us like we are lunatics, which by this point we are.

As we're closing up for the night, husband suddenly says, we should offer them our wet vac. He peers in front door and back, but they seem to have given up for the night, too. He notices they seem to have the same ceiling leak in kitchen that we have.

You live in gentrifying neighborhood. You are gentrifiers. Your neighbors are
pre-gentrification. Your other side neighbors are also gentrifiers, told you last year that they noticed in city's tax rolls that no-roof neighbors owe $12,000 in back taxes. No-roof neighbor neighbor maintains beautiful garden. Told you a few weeks ago, over the fence as you were both doing yard work, about how she grew up in the house, grew up there with her parents and seen all sorts of things in the neighborhood. How her parents and the former owners of your house jointly put in the porch awnings (which is probably what is causing the kitchen leaks, the way they're joined to the wall, so now maybe we should try to fix this problem jointly with them?).

How grateful should you be, as you go to sleep and wake up with aches and pains, that despite it all - no job, worries about money, old, historic house badly in need of repairs, how do we keep the nanny, should I buy sale designer jacket, are we going to do private school for child - you know you're still firmly entrenched on the have side of American society?

another interview

Back home having survived another interview. This one, I don't know. It's the funding organization, fairly high level, totally in my field with people I know and used to work with, very senior position. I am having a hard time imagining they'd want me, to be honest. I interviewed with the two people who would report to me, which sounds weird but was ok. I think they are screening people to see who they'd like, then the top people would do the second interview. I think the interview was mostly me catching up with one of the interviewers, learning what had changed in this organization over the past year or so as they've gone through a lot of changes. So if the metric was how would I click, I passed. She did tell me the position mostly required strategic visioning and positioning. I just don't think that's me. Maybe I am an implementer. I don't know. We'll see if they call. I kind of think they will, but wouldn't be surprised if they didn't. So curious who else they are interviewing, as the odds are high I know them if they're coming from inside the field.

A woman who used to work for me works for this organization, and in addition to feeding me inside info, is constantly telling me I'd be perfect for the job. I don't have that same confidence.

The senior people I know there are exactly that, senior. Really top notch, really smart. I'm smart, and I have over 15 years experience. I'm turning 40 this year. I have a child. I employ a nanny. I've survived hard, adult situations. I have gray hair (expertly covered up). I wear heels.

But I don't feel very adult. I don't think I'm a grownup. I don't feel like a senior person.

So what about you? Are you a grown up? When did you know you were an adult, or do you?