Today. 6 Months. Tomorrow. The World!

April 10, 2008 | Be Merry,Because of God

Today I celebrate 6 months of sobriety. A life without alcohol was something I could barely comprehend only 1/2 year ago. I wasn’t holding a brown bag on the street corner (yet), but I was thinking about those glasses of wine earlier and earlier each day and they, not life, were becoming my reason for getting up in the morning.

What started as a muse to greater regenerating clever blather became a dependence. The funny tightwalk between levity and release gave over to a fall through a canyon of doom. There were hostages and legions of hurt people. The first were last and the last were made first.

I am so much less now than I was then, both in net worth and employment and pretty clothes and shoes… but again so much more. More available, more alive, happier than I can remember.

If you ever wonder whether your drinks or drugs or habits are a dependence rather than a treat, try giving them up for awhile and see what opens for you.

And if you ever wonder what becomes of a person who loses something in order to gain something else, you can come visit me. I’ll welcome you here and gladly show you around.

****

Read this beautiful thing and thank god, or God, or goddess that there is such a lovely person on this planet…

If It’s a Sin to Eat Milk Duds, then I’m Going Straight to Hell

April 7, 2008 | Be Merry,Because of God,Reds

Let’s say (hypothetically) one quit one’s primary nonprofit gig to spend more time with certain offspring. At the same time, other freelance work dried up and one’s house was going on the market (it is pretty and fancy and was purchased back when Mommy had a full-time job).

If there were a Costco sized box of Milk Duds (emphasis on MILK, not DUDS, for you Brits out there), and it was consumed more rapidly than anything else remotely healthy, would one still be a loveable sort of person, or merely an obsessive eater?

If on the road of life, I were waylaid by a number of children and unemployment, would “Milk Duds” be an appropriate response to the question of “So how are you coping with these changes?”?

The world is a Very Serious Place. And from this angle (small children in tow, high on sugar, earning enough to buy one carrot and two lattes as a blogger), it all seems quite difficult to sort through.

And it could be that the sugar and the serotonin are teaming up to make it all seem silly and ironic, but I could go on like this for quite awhile longer and not mind one bit.

***

I don’t usually do memes, but this one is about books and requested by her (lovely, writing, pretty woman), so I’ll oblige.

Nearest book: Living Sober (it’s all nonfiction around here lately)

Page 123 & 5th Sentence, then Type Sentence 5-8

Here is the Excerpt:

Many of us have been amused at our seeming inability, even after many years of sobriety, to walk away from a half-finished cup of coffee or glass of soda. We sometimes find ourselves gulping the last swallow of a nonalcoholic drink, as if… Perhaps most readers already get the point: It is not always easy for us to put down an unfinished page, chapter, or book we are reading.

I’m not going to tag anyone but go ahead and do this if you like.

traveling heart

February 16, 2008 | Be Married,Be Merry,Because of God

i’m in tucson arizona this week visiting my parents in their 55+ mobile home park. i’ve often declared my refusal to travel anywhere with young children, and while the flight here somewhat proved my point, and the cranky transition to a different crib was rough for v, a few days in we’re actually getting some rest and having fun. this landscape is so vastly different than my green, watery, rainy, cloudy home that it feels somewhat like mars. mars with piped in latino music and pinata parties in brown grounded parks. everywhere brown and hills and cactus (“pactus” according to v).

transitions abound at home… so getting away, achieving a change in scenery seemed wise.. if only for the novelty factor. i’ve always craved novelty but lacked the adrenaline need to jump from planes (as some like) or race the bulls in pamplona. change of scene usually fits the bill, and if i can bring my children along (where their fun with grandparents means i get time to myself), then i forestall that weird displaced homesickness i suffer from when i travel without them.

as it turns out, one can be quite a gypsy spirit and still be mother to three young children. this is something it took quite awhile for me to come to terms with. despite my sassy mommy lingo, i felt weird fighting wanderlust when they needed me so much at home.

they’re getting older now. older! finally! they can keep themselves entertained and even slightly fed (if necessary) and only one left in diapers. as i approach 40, 40 40 40 40 40 40!!!, i have some time to consider my options. will i travel to london? go with michelle to a spa? go on a solo retreat to a beach somewhere? will this pit of dread leave once the day and the age has finally been achieved?

for now, things in my life are stable. the children are happy. i’m getting moreso. the larger questions that have plagued me for so long sit in a sort of hibernation.. until my brain and spirit get clearer and stronger. i still have little to no understanding about what makes a relationship, a marriage, happy. but perhaps i’m not one of those who comes to these things by anything but the long way. i dream that someday i might be kissed by that particular bird of happiness. until then, i have a way of life that is good enough.. happy enough for me.

last week, i had the good fortune to visit my sweet college friend and her beautiful family in rhode island. here is a picture of a marriage that works… and i of course observed it closely… like an anthropologist… or an arctic explorer… or someone who hasn’t a clue.

Confessions of a Hooky Playing Mama

January 30, 2008 | Because of God,Every Mama Needs...

As an education junkie and lover of all things school, my twin daughters’ Kindergarten debut was all that we hoped. Their bright eyes and sweet little uniforms and overburdened backpacks signalled the beginning of an auspicious and successful educational career.Or so we thought.

Read more at Babble…

Also, what do YOU think about elective c-sections??

Hush Now

January 4, 2008 | Be Merry,Because of God

Settling. Sitting still. Reflecting. Pausing before speaking. Quietude. These states are elusive in the hustle bustle opinionated brain of a former CrankMama. And while she has known this since she was born, I took the long way and I’m not there yet. And if all goes well, I’ll never arrive.

I’m speaking now of not speaking. Of holding one’s tongue. Of choosing not to express every thought flitting across the warped transom of one’s mind. You know what is most interesting about this not speaking bit? It gives other ideas, other happenings, a chance to come in and unfold. When I make my mental monkeys stop jumping on my goddamn bed long enough to enjoy the quiet, wisdom can break through all the screeching. Not my wisdom really. The wisdom of something greater than me (and beyond that, hell if I know what it/he/she is).

Fighting, arguing, drowning one’s feelings, pushing them down, or letting them out in all their fiery irrepressibility is draining. Tiring. Depleting. And I never realized how much of my exhaustion was due to my junkyard dog routine (when you are an angry doggie, everyone and everything is a bone).

So for now, I’ve laid down my weapons of war, picked up a feather and a flower (just like Ferdinand) and am waiting to see what happens next. Me? Wait? Never before have I endeavored such a mad journey… and I get no credit for the idea. NONE.

And as they say, “more will be revealed.”

#87

Today on Strollerderby: What does Britney Spears tell us about our fascination with horrible parenting?

Angels Among Us

December 13, 2007 | awake,Because of God

First Christmas play, 6th birthday, 60 day coin. It’s been a wonderful week in Redsy-land.  Nana is visiting for 3 weeks and the girls are loving her extra attention and special goodnight kisses.  Despite the challenges of the past months, I’m reassured that my daughters are loved and adored by grandparents, parents, caregivers, and teachers.

They are angels.  They deserve it.

And slowly, slowly, each of us in our family is looking inward and finding the strength to ask for what we want, need, and deserve.  Whatever happens, this is what we’ve learned this year…

Softer

December 6, 2007 | awake,Be Merry,Because of God

Hard to believe there are any edges left around here. What with the new sobriety, the daily attempt at spiritual practice (some days merely trying not to swear every other sentence or hate on slow drivers), I feel like a worn out old flannel shirt, dirty and tossed way down under the wet rags and muddy socks of life. Edges, those things that keep my vanity and pride humming along, can serve a purpose –a toughness in defense of precious littles, a determination and will to go on stepping, even through the concrete confusion of grimly long days. But it’s the softness that catches me by surprise.

Attending meetings daily opens my eyes to the beauty of softness. The edges all gone as people admit their foibles, their struggles, their deep dark shame. And I can see and love them for the brokenness and openness and humility without farce or false poise. They help me get over all the fighting words and fake courage of hip parenting, huge vocabulary-ed striving (well, almost).

And something else.

Softer is happier. Softer is relaxed and rested (and also admittedly weepy). Softer can be me and can be, sometimes for a flicker, okay.

****

Is there a link between clinging to our pre-parent selves and alcohol abuse?

And on a lighter note, seems the people can’t get enough of the push presents..

Enough.

December 4, 2007 | awake,Because of God

What riches what riches and how many hearts have been given me for safekeeping. I am not sufficient to the task, but with help and as a conduit, I can be enough.

Welcome Morning

There is joy
in all:
in the hair I brush each morning,
in the Cannon towel, newly washed,
that I rub my body with each morning,
in the chapel of eggs I cook
each morning,
in the outcry from the kettle
that heats my coffee
each morning,
in the spoon and the chair
that cry “hello there, Anne”
each morning,
in the godhead of the table
that I set my silver, plate, cup upon
each morning.

All this is God,
right here in my pea-green house
each morning
and I mean,
though often forget,
to give thanks,
to faint down by the kitchen table
in a prayer of rejoicing
as the holy birds at the kitchen window
peck into their marriage of seeds.

So while I think of it,
let me paint a thank-you on my palm
for this God, this laughter of the morning,
lest it go unspoken.

The Joy that isn’t shared, I’ve heard,
dies young.

-Anne Sexton

#56

Custodial Parent

November 17, 2007 | awake,Be Married,Because of God,Blues

I share joint custody of the twins with their father and his lovely wife. Ours is not a particularly unusual arrangement these days. Though B and I have the twins most of the time (they go to their dad’s every other weekend), it’s a little like having a back-up team. When our team flags, they come in for relief and advice and perspective. We all share love and concern for the twins and as a group make quite a successful parental pod. I won’t deny that having a grillion parents and grandparents and two homes must at times get confusing for the twins, and the long-term impacts of this arrangement have yet to be seen. But even with that, I’m convinced the girls are lucky because they have so many people (legions!) who love and cherish them.

When I married B 3 1/2 years ago, I longed for a happy ending. A safe and loving home for my daughters and myself. I was partly making up for what I saw then as their deficient life — one with a single mama and a single (at the time) daddy, who were still angry at each other and unable to put them first. I was searching for a port in the storm and I found one. For awhile.

My mistakes this go-round have been many and grave. The biggest one being not recognizing that my neglect and abuse of the marriage would ultimately doom it to rocky shoals.

This doesn’t justify the manner in which the twins have become recipients of marital frustration. Not. One. Bit. Children are innocent and need protection, care, and love, regardless of how low down and struggling we feel.

I will pay, have paid, for my mistakes…but not today.

Today I have a reprieve and am feeling serenity and gratitude my daughters and I have a loving extended family, a home, a port in the storm no matter what happens.

It comes with us now, wherever we go.

#39

Flush

November 9, 2007 | awake,Because of God

I received my 30 day coin the other day –to signify that I’ve gone 30 continuous days without drinking even one eensy sip of wine. It took a long grueling time to get to this point and several slips.. but I have the coin and I’ve been carrying it around and feeling proud.

It’s been a strange thing to try and write about — my daily attendance at AA meetings, my cravings, and longings, and dreams about drinking. Hard to believe I ever thought it was just a little evening ritual. Strange because at a very deep level it seems to have almost more to do with waking up, opening my heart back up, looking around and taking stock, than not drinking.

We fall asleep as the days go by… caught up in all of the daily busyness and go-round of meals and work and laundry and children. Some are incredibly lucky (or have naturally occurring seratonin) and can somehow manage to feel joyous and happy and grateful and awake. For most of us, I think it takes some sort of regular spiritual exercise.. some demonstration or daily reminder that life is short… what we have to give others is precious and unique. And that dropping out, zoning out, killing ourselves off bit by bit so that we’ll be passable, sale-able, acceptable to the adults around us is a huge mistake. A mistake for which many of us will pay dearly.

In the end it’s the amazing experience, often completely shockingly horrid, often lovely, of waking up… that has left me speechless and stunned. Every day there are moments I feel like a person who’s dived into icy ocean waters and the tingling skin and cold in my eyes is so close to unbearable I cannot tell if it’s pain or pleasure. But it is absolutely real.

But the scary part is I hadn’t grasped how asleep — dead to the world, really – I had become. And just think of all of the ways we have to shut down, tune out — it’s unspeakably easy to eat it all, watch it all, drip it all, drink it all away…

Our Deepest Fear

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate,

Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure,

It is our light not darkness that most frightens us,

We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous?

Actually, who are you not to be?

….

-Nelson Mandela

#31