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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