Robert Frost was smart


“The only way out is through”

Robert Frost said that. He was a smart guy.

I’ve been trying to be an adult. Being an adult seems mostly to suck. You get to an age where you say, “Holy Shit, I’m a grown up. What the hell am I doing?!” You suddenly realize you’ve been making choices that aren’t very grown up and all the mistakes become abundantly clear to you. You’re left standing there saying, “My God what have I done!”

I had a fight with my husband. The kind that makes you wonder if this will be the day you look back at as the beginning of the end. All the adult “rules of fighting” say I’m not suppose to post to a blog or social media site about these kinds of things but I think other people struggle and its good for them to see they aren’t alone. I’m not going into detail about our particular fight, that’s private, but I can talk about this thing that’s happening to me. I wanted to be an adult and here I am given one of the hardest opportunities to do so.

The only way out is through. It’s not like when you’re little. There is no “end” of this fight. There is an attempt at search and rescue. Searching for the pieces that can be picked up and cleaned off, maybe restored to their former purpose. Some pieces, I’m sure, will be repurposed. Then comes the rebuilding. I think that will take the longest. We aren’t kids anymore. We don’t just forget what hurts us and go back to playing. Fighting isn’t about winning anymore either. It’s about resolution. Compromise. Those things are hard.

I can’t pretend this fight didn’t happen. I can’t go on like everything is the same. I can’t not go on. We have kids. Kids who have no idea, and shouldn’t, that there is a problem. So daily life must go on. We must be able to work together. We have to decide what to rebuild.

The only way out is through. I spent some time debating if I wanted to just go through alone. But I don’t. I don’t want to go through alone. I want my partner, my mate, my One, to go through with me. Even though it makes me uncomfortable right now. Adults work through things that are uncomfortable. Adults look at the Big Picture and make choices to do things that are uncomfortable, or even painful, because they know that Big Picture is worth it.

The only way out is through. There is no backwards here. No reset button to push. Push through. So I’m standing there, looking ahead with fear and dread, psyching myself up to move through. Push past. Go forward. The longer I stand here the longer I’m stuck in this spot.


The only way out is through….

Post Holiday Depression?


So it’s that time of year again. Post holiday depression time. Christmas is over and New Year’s is on it way here. Time for resolutions. The excitement of getting ready for Christmas is gone and time for reflection of the self is upon us. What do you want for the coming year?

I want to be a different person. I want a different life. I feel tired and I’m not motivated to work for these things. Why bother? I got nowhere this last year so what’s the point of trying again this year? I hate this feeling. Hate it. I’ll try to work through it. I’ll try to push past it. The snow used to perk me up. Fresh clean snow, fresh clean life, but it’s not working this year. This year it’s just snow. Nothing fresh or clean about it. Just snow.


Who ruined Christmas?


Who ruined Christmas? Or the holidays in general? We’re not Christian so really we only celebrate Christmas itself A: because it’s fun and traditional and B: because the rest or our extended family is Christian.

But the holidays have gotten suckier and suckier every year. This time of year used to bring me such joy. I loved decorating the house, putting up the lights, the tree, the stockings. Making cookies. Buying gifts for everyone imaginable! If I knew you, you got a present. And after we had kids, OMG, I loved to see them wake up to a huge pile of presents. Excitement and wonder on their faces. It was the best thing ever!

Now….now I feel like this:

Now it brings me nothing but stress, anger, sadness, longing. If you read my previous post you’ll see clearly that my expectations are horribly unrealistic. I’ve been turning it over in my head all day. How did this happen? Why does each year end up being crappier. How did my expectations and desires get so high? As Charlie Brown would say “How did it all become so commercial”?!

It’s not the stuff. It’s the feeling. And it’s like a drug. You keep needing more and more and bigger and better to get the same feeling. It’s a horrible cycle. So how do you go backwards. Because its not that I’ve lost the meaning. It’s that I can’t get that feeling without going big. I can’t get that magic and wonder on my kids faces easier and cheaper. I can’t recreate that child-like feeling in myself without the decor and the lights and the cookies. So how do I fix it?

I don’t know. It feels ruined. I just want to spend time with my family, both the real one and the chosen. I want that warm, fuzzy, magical feeling from childhood. I don’t know how to get that, and it leaves me angry and frustrated and generally disillusioned.

Next Christmas…


Next Christmas…I will….

Have a beautifully decorated home. Like this:


Many handmade gifts. Like this…


Beautifully wrapped. Like this…


Dozens of cookies. Like this…


And snow. Like this…


And it will all be done by the end of the first full week of December. I will not be crabby, exhausted, sick or a crazy person. It will be beautiful and wonderful and glorious. We will go sledding and drink hot chocolate. We will sing carols and play games. We will snuggle in our P.J.’s and read my favorite Christmas stories. It will be great. Next year. Yep. Next year.

Re blogging, sort of.


There’s this blog I’ve been reading most if the day. It’s awesome. My new favorite. It’s everything I was looking for.

It’s on Tumbler šŸ˜¦

But here is my favorite so far and I wanted to share.

So enjoy.


God as a guy with model trains…I could work with that. If I believed in God per-say.

Hot Pink Underwear

Iā€™ve been thinking about God lately.

IĀ imagine a guy enamored with model trains, spending all his time in the basement painting tiny evergreen trees and rail cars carrying fake coal and those yellow and blackĀ striped crossing signs. The Big Engineer knows every detail of the goings on in Train Town. He loves the town and is sad when something breaks or when a townsperson falls off the table.

But he letā€™s things break, and heĀ doesnā€™t always fix broken things. He even dismantles parts when he tires of them.Ā He can make new things.

I know itā€™s stupid (and probably heretical) to imagine God as a model train enthusiast. Train towns arenā€™t alive like real towns and why would God pick such a tedious hobby?

Still, I wonder how interested God could really be in us, even our alive, sentient versions of train townspeople. Wouldnā€™t it be mind-numbing, watching us always standingā€¦

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It’s just not right


Thoughts on Connecticut.

I haven’t said much about this outside of my own head. It’s hard. I’m very conflicted in my head and my heart. I offer no real solutions so if your expecting some, you’ve come to the wrong place. I’m not picking a side. Or a political stand. It’s just thoughts. And confusion. It’s about guns, control, mental health and being a parent.

What happened to those children was the kind of thing I dream about fairly often. Horrible things happen in this world. The unimaginable pain of losing a child. Horrible. I can’t say more then that it I’ll stop typing.

There’s so much talk of gun control. I think the interesting word here is control. Control is an illusion. Both sides make great points. I don’t have a problem with guns. You have the “right to bear arms” and I respect that. You should be able to hunt. To defend your family. To come together and overthrow your government too for that matter. You know what you don’t need to do all that? More then 2 guns. Guns that are semi-automatic, clips that hold more then 10 rounds. You know why? Cause if a hand gun and a shot gun or rifle don’t fit your needs you got far bigger problems.

They say things like “bad people will get guns and do bad things, better arm the good guys too” or “that wouldn’t have happened if so and so had a weapon”. The problem I have with that is it makes the assumption that good people will be Heroes when given the chance. I hate to say it but statistically that isn’t true. Good people make bad choices. Good people act in fear. The best people can be cowards. Do you know why you call 911? Not because you need a person with a gun. You call because you need a person who has been trained to be brave. A person trained to be calm. A person trained to make choices that go against their human survival instincts. That’s why you call.

Good people knew these killers had mental problems and good people ignored it because they were afraid. Afraid of being wrong. Afraid of getting sued. Afraid of the hassle. And these are the good people you expected to act bravely? We need better, more reasonable restrictions on the number and type of guns available. Better background checks. Harsher punishments. We need better mental health options.

But we also need good guys to start being brave BEFORE these things happen. You don’t need to be armed to the teeth if your brave enough to get the bad guys out of the game before they start to play.

Shit like this shouldn’t happen. That guy in China, he didn’t kill anyone. You know why? It takes more time to stab people then to shoot them. And while no loss i acceptable, reloading takes time, time enough for people to get brave. Just saying.

Therein lies the problem


It should be very, horribly even, clear that I want a great many things. All of which involve some sort of change. Most of which are things I have almost, if not complete, control of. And therein lies the real problem. I have next to no control of me. That’s right, me, myself, I. For example:

I am fat. Not holy cow fat but going on 40 housewife fat. I had deluded myself into thinking it was just because I drank pop and sit around too much. But I can tell you, it will in fact require REAL effort on my part to lose this extra weight. I can not fully describe the self loathing, shame, sadness and frustration I have about this, it makes me truly unhappy, and yet I can not get myself to put out the effort. Why? Because I don’t like to. That’s right, I said it, I don’t want to. I don’t want to exercise. I don’t like it at all. I want to eat a big steak and potato. I don’t want to do what is required to look great despite the fact that being heavier than I should be makes me utterly miserable.

I am the problem. I hate that. I really do. I don’t know how to fix it. I can’t seem to want these things bad enough. I can’t seem to ever control myself. It’s stupid. And it sucks.

It’s not just the fat thing, that was just an example, there are sooo many more. My house, my kids, my husband, my relationships, I have problems with them all that I could fix. If I only put forth the effort. But it’s a lot of effort and I don’t want to. I don’t want to be the only one working hard to make things work and so I don’t, even though I know it’s worth it. Even though I know it could make things so much better.



Short and stupid


There are big, serious type things I could write about but instead I’m going with…

My basement is now officially a wreck again AND it smells funny šŸ˜¦

So, add that to my list of super fun things to do, preferably this week. For a “no job having” woman, my week seems to fill up pretty damn quick.

My list now looks like this:

Go see Crazy Uncle, check on his house and pay his bills. I should also balance his checkbook.

Clean my house and basement for Smalls upcoming 9th birthday.

Buy Spa supplies for Smalls party along with food etc.

Head downtown Tuesday for meeting for The Big B.

Decorate for CHRISTMAS! It’s coming people and it needs to be awesome!

Do some Christmas shopping!

Email Smalls and Middle Minions teachers to check our progress.

I’m sure there is more, like trying to sleep, keeping my sugars in check, keeping stress down and knitting 3 more scarves but I’ve probably got more than I can handle already.

Woohoo, being a growed-up is freaking great!