My friends thought I bought the urn for myself. That reminded me that they read these words and they worry about me. It kind of opened my eyes to the fact that I would be affecting other lives besides by own if I died.

I am trying to deal with my mom’s death so moments like right now when I want to throw myself out of a window and I curse the fact that the tallest building I have access to is only 4 stories tall - I will remember what my mom’s death did to my life and what my own death would do to my children’s lives.

Distraction is vital to staying alive. I think that is true for even non suicidal people. I guess that is what I’ll go and do now.

Being with him, is being home. Being in his arms is like basking in the warmth of the sun. There is no place I feel safer than with him.

I suppose this makes me somewhat vulnerable, but then there is no one I trust more. It is wonderful to recall that I am madly and sickeningly in love with him still after all of these years. I am so lucky.

I love to learn.

I love to read and write.

I love art.

I love the outdoors.

I love playing the piano.

It will likely take me awhile longer to figure out the rest. I’m working my way off of Celexa and back onto Lexapro.

Of course this is the root of all my problems. I can’t be alone or complete when he is not here. This is what we talk about in therapy. I define myself as his wife. I feel as though I am part of him. I feel incomplete without him. I feel like a better person because I am married to him. Not better like good (quite the opposite actually) but better than you. And then when he is away or he is unhappy my reality comes crumbling down around me.

I am still trying to figure out why. I guess I’ll find out eventually. In the mean time, everything that happens while I am awake is a risk. I can’t stay in bed and hide out though. It seems that getting out bed and keeping busy is the best thing to do for now.

I am also reading this book called A Secret Sadness in addition to How I Survived When My Brain was Trying to Kill Me.

I am trying to write a crisis plan.

I go to therapy every week (except next week since she’s on vaca)

I started buying aromatheraputic cleaning products. I get angry when I clean, the aromatherapy helps calm me down quite a bit.

I am trying not to be alone. I shouldn’t be left alone and I’ve told Chris that and he does his best not to leave me when alone when I am having dark thoughts.

Sometimes I am really discouraged, others I feel okay. I don’t know when this will end. Hopefully soon.

See I like to go back and read what I have written and eventually my words begin to haunt me and embarrass me. The same thing has happened with this blog a few times now…

I am going to unlock some posts I’ve written. They are rather dark. If you don’t like what you read, please hit that X button in the upper corner of your browser. If you think I should be committed, I agree with you. Feel free to contact my husband and tell him so.

Scroll down at your expense, you’ve been warned.

Every time that I am scrounging blindly on the ground at the feet of the rest of the world I start to get tired. I get restless and tired of being depressed and lost. I start twisting and shifting and looking for a way out. Perhaps it is a new kind of survival mode.

The decisions that we have made (Christopher and I) as with nearly all decisions has plopped us into a swift current river forcing us almost helplessly in one direction. I do not allow myself to climb onto the shore even though it is nearly within  my grasp.

The sense of being trapped and having no good options is perhaps the most disheartening thing of all. It is this reality that keeps me feeling depressed and locked in a vicious cycle.

If only my decisions didn’t affect a couple young and innocent lives around me…

It is like starting over. I was making progress until I switched medications. I wonder how many times I’ll have to do this until we find the right one.

It is not going well. I don’t feel like talking to anyone or doing anything. Chris is being very helpful and supportive though.

I’m reading this book in little pieces called “How I Survived When My Brain Was Trying to Kill Me”.

So I’m alive kind of. Still trying to get better.

I beg God all the time to just let me die, but he’ll provide no such comfort it seems.

I don’t believe I was meant to live a full life. For a moment I believed I was here to raise the two Littles but now I can’t tell if I am just mucking it all up.

Every emotion filled moment is like a brush with death, but only a tease as if to remind me that I’ll have no such luck today.

I’m afraid I’ll swerve into on coming traffic.

I’m afraid that my urge to reproduce will cause me to seek out sperm elsewhere since there is none to be found here.

I’m afraid I’ll jump if I get to close to an edge.

I’m afraid I’ll speed up and smash into something, anything that is sure to end all of this hell.

I’m afraid that my husband is sick of me.

These are things that I have recognized in myself of late. It is some what eye opening how my physical being is impacted by simply my mental state.

Each day with the help of my medication, these things get minutely easier. It is my hope that I will eventually be able to carry on doing these kinds of things without so much effort.

I feel like I am going insane. I wonder if and when Chris might decide to have me committed. The thoughts in my head are ridiculous. I feel like dying a lot though. Dying because I feel hopeless. Dying because what is in my head is unreal.

Chris took my gun away. He won’t let me near it ever again now. I feel kind of unsafe in the house alone unarmed but the part of me that feels like dying is glad that he has made it harder for me to give up. I can see how part of me might resent this during some difficult moments in the future though.

I get to see my doctor again today so I think we’ll discuss trying a different medication. I won’t stop trying to get better, right now it is only because of the Littles. One day I hope it might be for myself.

If you have never experienced this, let me paint you a picture of what this looks like. It isn’t pretty. I won’t sugar coat this at all, as my ability to think creatively is also non existent.

The place where it is most apparent to me is my interaction with my children. I am some how able to take care of their basic needs. It takes everything I have but I can feed them, dress them, and send them off to school. I can hug and kiss them but when they need anything else from me, I cannot give it.

Every moment with them is taxing and all I want to do is be alone so I can focus on breathing. This was most apparent one morning when I took them out to breakfast at a Denny’s by myself. They were good. They weren’t rowdy or loud. They pretty much stayed seated the entire time and yet it was so incredibly stressful and practically traumatic for me, I just wanted to be done. Of course there are other things tied to this like my perfectionistic tendencies that cause me to insist that my children behave in public as if it were a reflection on myself but its complicated.

As you can imagine this inability to function on no more than a basic level affects every area of my life. There is no on off switch for this. All I can do is take my medication and use my plastic spoon to dig myself out of this 1000 foot hole that was dug with a giant shovel. Each day I try and recognize the areas that are affected. It is a constant discovery process.

One thing I am barely able to do is to read a book. I picked up a book today that I’ve been staring at for awhile. I can only read a page at a time. I am starting to see that the signs of my break down began quite some time ago. I drop words from my sentences when I am writing and even now when I am talking, this began quite some time ago.

The real kicker here is that we think that perhaps my husband is also in survival mode. I don’t want pity, just understanding and perhaps a prayer if you have any to give.

I have lived with out a dishwasher for most of my life and I have been washing dishes since I was 4 years old. However with everything unraveling - for the past 6 months or so I have been threatening to switch to disposable eating-ware. I followed through with my threat recently.

I feel guilty even though our paper plates are going to be composted. I feel guilty even though our bowls, plastic-ware, and cups are being recycled. I feel guilty even though we are using less water. We are consuming,  products that require energy and oil to be manufactured and recycled.

It is kind of all I can handle right now until my kitchen is done though…

-You go to work with some kind of goo on your pants like toothpaste or paint that someone left out or got out and chewed up and you stepped in it.

-Your backyard looks like a small war zone with little landmines and holes everywhere.

-You find pieces of shredded paper everywhere.

-You are the hand and you’ve been bitten.

-You always have something wonderful albeit messy to come home to.

2) Tell your friend you still love them - medicated or not.

3) Look at all of your friend’s photos of their kids/dogs/hobbies

4) Remember you friend’s special dates

5) Spend time with your friend

I am feeling OK. I go to therapy every week. I am adjusting nicely to my fluoxetine (Prozac). I even went out with my co-workers friends the other night.

Just trying to get through each day because I still have so much stress going on in my life right now. I am just working on dealing with all of it.

Thank you friends who have still been there for me even though I’ve been distant. Thank you friends who have listened intently while I throw up my emotions all over the floor.

• Don’t remember birthdays, anniversaries, or any special dates. Or if you do remember don’t call, email, or give any hint that you did remember

• Don’t check in, don’t take a moment to leave a note on their Facebook wall to say “hey hope you are well”, send a free eCard or take any action that says “I still care about you”

• Only stop by to visit when you need borrow something or happen to be in town and need something from them

1) Lay your head on the shoulder of an unquestioning, unassuming, friend that you trust. Just close your eyes and lay there for awhile.

2) Listen to a song that you really like. Music is like medicine for the soul. Listen to songs that calm and caress your soul.

3) Take a walk. Everyone knows exercise helps with depression but no one explains how to climb out from the depression cloud to start exercising. Just try a comfortable walk for now.

4) Seek out a flavor tea that you love. Collect a personal sized tea set that you use just for your own private tea time.

5) Create something very small. Buy a tiny kit of some kind that allows to express your creativity but is a small project that won’t overwhelm you. Like a tiny herb garden, or a tiny ornament decorator.

When I’m not in the office I’m glued to my iphone trying to answer emails and cross things off of my ever growing to do list. Trying to find to time to do anything else but play catch up is just about impossible and school hasn’t even started due to the teacher strike. So of course PTA and Health Committee stuff are just waiting to pounce.

I’m taking the fall off from school so as not to overwhelm myself and so we can pay for a new bed again. (We are going to get a real king bed with no grand canyon in the middle and let the kids have these.)

Every Wednesday I rush off to the other side of downtown Bellevue to see my therapist after work. I always feel more distorted when I leave than when I got there. I feel like a crazy, spoiled person every time I go there. I feel like I’m going to get help for petty problems as I pull into the lovely office park. I’m not starving, dying, diseased, or ill! I think to myself as I sit down on her white couch to tell her about how busy and stressed out I am from being a working, sometimes in college, house is forever being remodeled, soccer mom.

Oddly though, I find myself more content rushing around like a some what crazy lady. It is kind of like a video game where you have to get all the points as you overcome various obstacles like shin guard chewing dogs, missing shoes, and those stupid weeds that keep coming back. I throw my head back and laugh as my husband says he’ll be working all weekend.

My arms look like my mom’s arms. My feet look like my mom’s feet. My hands are big like my dad’s. My nose is big like my mom’s.

I have an unhealthy obsession with jewelry, like my grandma. Currently my house is unfinished and messy like hers too. I am not punctual, like my dad. I have a temper that bares the rage the boils inside me, like my mom.

My kids are a lot like me. Cody is insecure like me. You can tell when he talks. Madison looks just like me. (Her toes look like my sister’s funny shaped toes that I used to make fun of.)

They are like Chris too. Cody looks just like him. Madison has his long fingers. They both have his big, brown, puppy dog eyes and long lashes.

There some strange things I’ve inherited that I love though.

I am a night owl. While not very useful, I love the dark and the night.

I love the rain, trees, and clouds of the Seattle area.

I am conscious of the environment.

The moral glasses I look through are very  black and white. They are few if any areas of grey.

There are so many pieces of me that come from my parents and my upbringing. I’ve been trying to sift those out of the emotional clutter. The better I know myself, I think perhaps the better I can raise my littles to be the people I think they should be.

My own yard is in complete disarray so I have a great appreciation for well cared for landscaping. We were getting some where but then we got Talia back who is a digger. Then the kids started digging as well. They have also taken to playing with our yard equipment to build forts.

When they are old they are going to say to their own kids, “When I was a kid I had to play with wheelbarrows and tarps.”

The parks here are well maintained and manicured. The grass here is so ridiculously and wonderfully green. There is always room for improvement in the restroom department though. 

We burned up the daylight avoiding the hot lava by climbing over the play structures, rolling down the grassy hills, laying under the giant trees, and the kids ran to and fro across the grassy ball fields.

The kids took off their shoes and danced around in the grass.  As usual I was busy snapping photographs and making sure  they didn’t get hurt or contract any germs.

At home I am pretty lax about most things but when we go out I am a germaphobe and a hawk. I don’t like public restrooms or anything that a lot of people touch. I also don’t like for them to be out of my sight for even a second when we are out. I feel a little crazy in the grocery store sounding like a parrot saying “don’t touch that” over and over again.

We made our way home as the sun ducked behind a hill. I had been arguing with Chris before we left for the park so I left my phone in the car. Later I realized that it was so blissful to spend time with them, with out any interruptions but that of curious dog being taken for an evening walk.

I recall these emotions from the days where I stayed at home with them and I miss those moments tremendously. I’m writing it down to remind me to take more uninterrupted time with them.

Christopher has been perfect. He’s only had one person close to him die, ever but he’s been perfect. You can only know what that means if you’ve lost someone close to you.

There are no words to make it better. There is only listening and being there in the moment with the pain surrounding you. It is really hard.

The most upsetting thing has been the thought of two little girls having to say goodbye to their mother. I feel like I’m watching someone else’s story when I think about this.

We were only able to say goodbye to her for what seemed like 10 minutes. It is silly but I kick my 11 year old self for not speaking up and saying “Hey! This is the last time I’m ever going to see my mom! LET ME STAY!”

I know there is no handbook that can tell you how to deal with children when their mother is dying, but I feel it could have been handled better. From not letting us stay longer with her, to stating to me that you blame my dad for my mom dying and everything in between.

I’m not done grieving but I think I will eventually be okay.

Boobs

• “When I grow up I am going to feed my baby from my boob.”   -Madison (age 5)

The nanny has a wee little baby that nurses. The kids are very interested in this concept.

Poop

• They take bets on how much poop will be in a given a diaper. They are very interested in the baby poop and have to be around to witness the changing of the diapers. Whoever guesses the correct amount of poop (not sure how this is measured) gets bragging rights.

Shopping

• “I want to buy beautiful things. You know make up and stuff.”  -Madison

Dirt

• While packing up for a weekend at the cabin, she sent them outside to play for 15 minutes to run off some energy. In 15 minutes they dug a 2 foot hole in the backyard and rubbed dirt all over themselves.

Cody (age 7) is a good little worker and probably dug most of the hole himself. Madison probably stood close by singing and rubbing dirt into her skin.

My kids are funny, good spirited, little people. I’m so lucky.

Maybe it is my depressive, psychotic state but for some reason I feel like now is a good time to explore how I feel about my mom her.

Of all the things we’ve covered so far in therapy, the one thing that made me cry was her. It was so ridiculous. I like distraction from life, grieving is a good distraction. Shall we?

Her ashes are here in my house. I don’t like to remember that. They are in my dog’s bedroom in a plastic bag. Well the velvet bag that holds the wooden box that holds the Ziploc bag of ashes (I looked when I was a kid) is in the plastic grocery bag. God that is so horrible. I should box it up and mail it to her family.

Every photograph my family ever took are here in my house in photo boxes. This makes me so unbelievably angry. We made so many memories and no one even cares anymore.

Someone’s new wife has the emotional maturity of a 10 year old and can’t stand to have photos of someone’s previous life anywhere in their house. Not one. single. photograph.

I don’t want the responsibility of carrying on her memory or the memories of our family. He was supposed to do that. It is his job! I don’t want to be responsible for this!

I read that kids need to know where they came from, so I have to come to grips with all of this and be able to communicate information about my family with a positive spin. So far both children are very interested in how she died. They understand that I don’t have a mother and that she is dead. Much to my dismay they ask a lot of questions about her.

If I don’t do this, I won’t be able to answer questions. So far I’ve used inner hatred towards her for leaving to block out whatever real vulnerable emotions I might have. Probably not the healthiest idea.

I was 11 and she left. This feels horrible. The empty gaping whole people leave when they die, I don’t feel that anymore. I guess this is the crap that comes after that.

When we moved here we decided that since we have this big house, the kids should work on sleeping in their own rooms and their own beds.

Occasionally we used to all take a nap together or watch a movie on our big bed though. I actually bent Chris’s arm backwards in one of our many wrestling matches on the big bed.

In the some what recent past, Chris got rid of the big bed and got us new beds. Yes bed(s). Two twin sized Sleep Number beds that also do the whole sitting up and massage thing. The Sleep Number people told him that the beds would not come apart. They were right, the bolted frame does not come apart. Although they are on wheels so the bed moves around…

However in between our two mattresses is a giant canyon. No matter what, it is always there. The four of us can no longer just comfortably laze around together. I always end up in the giant canyon, which is even worse for my back than our old mattress.

Heck the two of us can’t even sleep right next to each other. My favorite place in the whole world used to be L of Chris’s arm. No more though because it is reminiscent of high school college trying squeeze onto his tiny bed.

If you have ever shopped for a Sleep Number bed, you know that we will have to keep these beds for the rest of our married lives. It is great the beds are so comfy, I never want to get out of my bed on the weekend and I don’t wake up in pain anymore. In some ways though these beds have ruined my life. I was deeply devastated when we first started sleeping in them because of the giant canyon between us. My bed is so comfortable though anymore I can just lay in it and sleep away my anguish forever.

I really just want to lay around with my family on our bed. Watch a movie or listen to the silly jokes my kids tell. Of course we can do this anywhere but it was our own little family thing to just laze around in bed. These beds were not made for families.

If you are thinking of getting a new bed, don’t do it! You never know what kind of disaster you could bring to your life by purchasing a new bed. Just keep your big old bed. Buy some new sheets for it.

I know, I know got myself into this giant mess. In my defense though I said I wanted to move to this city. I did not say I wanted to move to this house. Mr. Maria picked out the house. I said we should wait for something else.

I really want to have a better POV on this. Like oh I’m so lucky that the only problems in my life are my house and my yard. And I should be happy for each day. And oh it could be so much worse.

I can’t though. Everyday that I have to come home to this house I am angry. I can’t handle this. This is why I ran away from home all the time when I was a teenager. We lived in my grandmother’s depressing unfinished house! I hated being there so much.

I would rather stay at work (where stupid angry people call me all day long) than go home at the end of each day. I only come home because I miss my family and they are the only things in the world that make me happy right now. I wish that was enough, but it isn’t. The rest of this is just too much.

The thing that makes me angrier than any of this is everyone who says, it will get done eventually, it will happen in time… and all the stupid shit they get to say because they don’t have to put up with this. BULL.SHIT. It took 2 years to get here. Like we’ve finally made it up to -1.

How am I ever going to make it to the end of this?

Reusable grocery bags are in and here to stay. Many are bigger, stronger, and hipper than your average plastic bag.

Of course you can get the store branded fuzzy reusable bags, but for those who like a little flare in their grocery trips, there are so many stylish and convenient other reusable grocery bag options.

Here are the ones I’ve used so far. I’ve looked at many of the grocery bag options out there. So many of them are just branded canvas bags, but a few companies have taken it to a new great level.

Envirosax www.envirosax.com

I purchased the 5 pack of the Monochromatic Series. At $35 I felt they were pretty spendy for grocery bags. However I get compliments on them all the time and they are very large and sturdy. If you don’t mind the task of rolling them back up, it is nice that all 5 fit in the convenient little pouch. These are my favorite because they are so pretty and hold so much. I’ll probably order more because the snap came off of one and I lost one.

Flip & Tumble www.flipandtumble.com

This bag is ingenious. I only have one because I bought one for my MIL that I keep forgetting to give her. It is super easy to tote around in your purse and even easier to fold back up when you are done with it. This bag is a bit smaller than my other bags but still holds quite a bit. The only drawback is that it kind of looks like you are toting around a pair of socks.

Grocery Buddy

No link for this guy, I found him in a little tub at Whole Foods while I waited in line horrified that I had forgotten my bags.  This little guy comes in a little bag with a tiny carabiner key chain. It is attached to the little bag and easily folds back up into itself. This one is on the smaller side but it is good to have just in case.

Other grocery bags I am looking at:

Re-usable produce bags www.kootsac.etsy.com

I don’t know about you, but I hate it when cashiers just stick things into little plastics bags with out asking. It would be handy to have these along.

Foldable Shopping Trolley by Globally Cute on Amazon.com

I think this is a good option for walking down to the local store just to grab a gallon of milk and maybe a few other things. A situation that might normally cause you drive can be turned into an opportunity to burn some calories, save some gas and, save the planet.

Just the other day I was listening to some songs on the little piano on my iphone (insert snicker) and I realized how much I missed having a piano to play on.

My parents used to say that I would be glad they made me learn how to play one day, and they were right. It is too bad I don’t have a piano to play on.

I am so ridiculous, if it was just me running the show here and no husband to defer to I would sell my van to buy a baby grand and put it in the living room and put the big couch downstairs. I’d walk or take the bus everywhere.

It is okay, you can laugh.

More of my awesome bike gear arrived at the Issaquah REI for me to pick up and now my bike is all decked out and ready for some serious riding. Except for my water bottle holder, I can’t freaking find it. Oh well though because I have a step over frame and there is no where to put it.

Getting out of bed more seems to be helping my mood. I’ve also been avoiding bad news and conflict as much as possible while I am in such a fragile state. I am not watching the news. Talus (my former golden retriever) is going to a new home again. I can barely type that. I so cannot deal with that right now. I don’t even have the energy to state what I really think about the situation.

I’ve been thinking a lot about how stressful our lives are. I’ve been thinking a lot about how I want to move far away to a sleepy town and drive my kids to school in my pj’s in my van and then eat crackers and color with the other children I’d like to have.

That so is not ever going to happen.  So of course I can’t just exist in the mediocre state that I am. It isn’t good enough. I have to strive to attain something bigger and better. Telling me to settle down is like telling the world to stop spinning. It isn’t going to happen.

I read somewhere that we should share our dreams even though we fear public failure because it helps us be accountable and because we can often find support this way. I didn’t find this to be true when we moved from Kent to Bellevue but whatever. Maybe my new Bellevue friends will be more supportive.

My dream is to buy a small piece of land on the island and build a smallish (1200 sq. ft) modern, really environmentally friendly house tucked behind some tall old trees. I don’t care about a view of the lake, I would consider myself fortunate to live on that island at all.

My last dream was to move to this city (which of course may be my demise) but after all of the talking and planning, we made it here. Pretty good for two kids from White Center neither of which has finished college (so far). Despite the unbearable stress this house has caused, the downstairs is just a little bit of paint around the edges, away from being done.

I find the chaos of all of the toys, in a perfectly imperfect new playroom quite peaceful.

My city took 1st place this year! We’ve been in the top 100 at least a few times in the past few years but this year we took the #1 spot.

I don’t follow news with any kind of regularity so I am very slow at learning of anything. LOL

Yay Bellevue!

I really love to write. I have a lot to write about somewhere in my system. I write for my friends every once in awhile. I reach deep inside and pull out a whole bunch of things I didn’t know that I had. My writing seems to warm those few who get to read it on occasion.

Here on this blog, I have a stack of draft posts started on things I want to share with you but I can’t summon the energy to produce and finish quality content.

This week I will be starting visits with a therapist who I hope will be able to help with all of my stress. I have a lot of high level goals looming over my head and a lot of semi permanent life clutter preventing me from traveling a straight path and, causing me a great deal of stress.

Hopefully one day all of this Internet real estate occupation won’t be in vain.

I keep reading that sharing your goals is a good way to hold yourself accountable. So I’ve made a short list of things I’d like to accomplish by the end of the year. I need to create some new and good habits. I have some how morphed into this disorganized, jumbled mess when I am at home.

I used to be so anal and type A. I think moving to a home that I couldn’t make perfect, did me in. In order to survive in a house that is in a constant state of change and disarray, I have given in. I find myself more and more saying “Is this my life? How did I get here?”

I still can’t get over how much I miss the simplicity of the first home we bought, which was a brand new condo with landscaping people built in. I would gladly give up my privacy to move into a new planned neighborhood again where life is clean, planned and, simple.

Getting to the point - here is my I Want list for the rest of 2008.

I Want to bicycle to work.

Since moving to my new office, I haven’t biked in even though at 3.5 miles - it is a good distance to bike. I’ve been scared to bike in because regardless of the route there are at least 2 steep hills to climb there and back, and a lot of traffic to fight on streets with out a lot of room for bikes. I’ve been scouting out paths as I drive to and fro each day though and I think I might be ready soon. I ordered some more gear for my lovely girly bike that should be here next week.

I Want to finish the basement.

Our basement is just a few pieces of trim, a few tubes of caulk, and a couple coats of paint on the trim and doors away from being done enough for me to actually think about decorating. I have a list of like 10 things that need to be done to finish it up.

I Want to clean my room.

Our bedroom has also served as a dumping ground for all of our crap. The room is just full of crap. I hate going in there. Forget getting a good night rest. The problem is that with a house that is constantly shifting to make room for the remodel process - there isn’t a place to put all of this crap that formerly was in my home office.

I Want to keep the house tidy.

This is self explanatory. There are two young kids and two over time work & school outside the home parents. No one wants to deal with this. I refuse to clean up after other people anymore. Again in order to survive, I have given in and just let it go. Tidying up is sporadic and stuff just gets picked up since we don’t have an organizational system in place.

I will check in weekly monthly and report my progress.

While I admit to being pretty damn lazy (my husband will attest to this) there is a certain level of lazy that I cannot tolerate and it is where lazy starts becoming irresponsible; or in this case is so far past the line of irresponsibility that “the line is a dot!” to those in question.

My spouse has a lot of non awesome family. I do too but my family doesn’t force me to hang out with them, so we are more like casual acquaintances - I know just enough to tolerate them or even mildly appreciate their rare presence in my life.

The most non awesome people in his family are two of his cousins. Their actions infuriate me but I can’t say squat to anyone because the grandparents would like to keep the peace even though they are the ones being used and screwed here. I know they are adults too who can make their own decisions but even adults sometimes need someone to stick up for them, unless of course they tell people not to…

I’ve been channeling my evil anger towards the Eviltons but that doesn’t seem to have stopped them from borrowing thousands of dollars from two little old people who don’t have much to spare, and dumping their bratty children on them instead of bucking up and paying their own bills and for childcare like the rest of us. What I wouldn’t give to say that to their faces but then I’d have to listen my husband bitch. (As a couple we go to great lengths to avoid listening to the other one bitch.)

Anyway, I know I’m not wrong here. I am just not mature enough to let this roll off because it keeps coming back up and all I can do is stand on the side lines with my fists clenched. I can’t do anything about it and I hate that.

/bitchy drama

I retook the test and my number went up to 4.92. Click on the photo to see the full size version.

So I am reevaluating some of our plans, making a list of everything we already do as well as everything that we could do.

Some of the more affordable things are walking and biking to the store more since it is so close, buying in bulk more rather than the individual sized things. We just used our last ziploc bag the other day, and I purchased some good reusable tupperware that we can use instead. I am also thinking that with as much as it rains here, we could collect a lot of water with a rain barrel.

A lot of the places where we could make a big difference are expensive, like an eco friendly remodel, like new windows and more insulation, and even paper products made of recycled paper. I don’t often buy paper products made of recycled paper because they are so expensive. As a kid, my dad always bought paper products made of recycled paper. We used to joke with him that our toilet paper was like wiping your ass with tree bark.

The guilt of not doing the downstairs more eco friendly is going to haunt me for a long time. The good news is that we did use products that are long lasting and sturdy as well as neutral and not trendy, so they should not need to be replaced for a long time.

Today I have to go to a store that is 3 miles away. I was thinking that we should try taking the bus but I don’t have any cash on me. I rarely have cash on me so I would have to drive over a mile to get to my credit union’s ATM. Also public places like buses are a breeding ground for germs and my kids like to touch everything. I think we’ll have to drive but I still have guilt.

When you are weak you wonder if you can ever be strong again.

When you are weak you gasp for breath from the unsurmountable weight that is on top of you.

When you are weak you can hear the voices of those standing close by calling for you to get up. You know that you should be able to move, but you cannot.

When you are weak it is easier to simply close your eyes and go to sleep.

When you are strong again, you now know why the weak must be gently and slowly lifted to their feet.

Maybe that means I don’t care. Maybe it means something else…

Fuck you.

Fuck you for leaving.

Fuck you for tainting my sister’s birthday week.

Fuck you for everything you did to me.

Fuck you for who you are were.

I admit that 2. I really suck at math.

I admit that 3. I am over scheduled and under rested and stressed 90% of the time and it is all my fault.

I admit that 4. I could happily spend 12 hours working as long as it is in front of a computer.

I admit that 5. I have the most unorganized (read: messy) room in the house.

I must now painstakingly retype every single one of those posts into Notepad before I can bring it here. There was some good stuff in there from like two years ago.

I am stupid.

Fast forward to today and due to an unfortunate incident the little dog is back here with us and the big dog will soon be a in a new home as well.

The good news is that they took her training to a new level while they did have her and she is wonderful have around now. I feel as though I should be paying them. They returned a more fantastic dog than they got.

I can’t say I didn’t miss having her around. She is a lovely little dog. So here I am once again with a dog.

Background: the house was a rental home for 25 years before we acquired it. During those 25 years more than one owner attempted to fix or remodel the home in some way. The work was very poor and nearly everything that is not original to the house has to be removed.

This is our first single family home. Even though we owned a condo before living here, we did not come into this home with a lot of money. We can’t afford costly materials for this remodel. Unfortunately nothing we have purchased other than compact fluorescent light bulbs are things that one might consider eco-friendly (even those are made with mercury and I have issue that).

We are just about finished with the daylight basement and ready to start on the upstairs which includes the kitchen and 1 full bath. I am trying to redeem us and (purge some guilt) by looking for some kind of eco friendly cabinet option.

So far I haven’t found anything that is not expensive. Even reclaimed wood some how fetches a fantastic price. Don’t even get me started on those eco friendly counter tops that look like resin but have like recycled glass embedded. They to are far too expensive for our very modest budget. We certainly do not have the time to try and build cabinets ourselves out of reclaimed wood. We are remodeling our entire home and yard so think like Ikea cheap for the kitchen.

What is a green gal who is stretched for time and money, to do?

Well if we are lucky enough to be able to keep our house as long as we would like to then we will go with the cheap kitchen option for now to make living here less dreadful and hopefully be able to upgrade to a really awesome kitchen one day in the future. If nothing else, potential future buyers hopefully won’t throw up when they walk in.

It is so nice to know the kids are well cared for in the safety of our home while we are away at work.

This once again traumatic summer childcare experience has caused me to seriously consider staying at home but I haven’t made a decision yet.

The other option I’ve considered is keeping our nanny on through the school year to clean and manage our household and be with the children after school, again I haven’t made a decision about that yet.

(Read: Don’t know if I can afford it.)

I am still eager for the school year to start, so that we can fall into our familiar routine once again.

To end the afternoon I got a phone call letting me know I would get all of my money back other than the fees for the week the kids were there. Over $600 in fees and tuition I am getting back thankfully.

Now if I can just focus long enough to start studying for the math test I have tomorrow night…

As I mentioned before I don’t like summer too much. My children have to go to a different childcare during the summer. Last year we had an incident at the summer childcare through the school district - combined with other things that did and did not happen, we looked for a different solution for this summer. I was extremely unhappy with the things that occurred last summer.

This past Monday the kids attended their first day at the new childcare.

I was so upset at the situation that I cried when I left. They are in the basement of a facility that apparently does not have AC. They spend the majority of the day in this large room with few toys with kids that are much older than their age range. Today they didn’t even split up into the younger kid rooms and were just forced outside. The room doesn’t feel clean, the toys are clearly not sanitized. There are broken toys in broken unsanitized bins.

It is just kind of a place to stash the children when they aren’t taking their turn to go on a field trip to places like a dirty public beach to play in the freezing Puget Sound with a total of 60 kids in tow.

The first day that my husband picked them up, the door between the childcare and the pool was wide open as were every other door in the facility. The person inside didn’t know where our children were. My husband had to wander from room to room and then outside to locate them.

There are a few other “minor” things that all add up to one big failure. Tomorrow I am bringing them with me to the office for a little bit and then taking the rest of the day off to interview nannies. I pray that we find one right away. Please pray for us. I cannot and will not continue to send them to this childcare facility.

Tomorrow I have to call the grandparents and ask someone to watch them for Thursday and Friday. I can’t drop off my daughter there even one more morning. This morning when I dropped them off I was equally disgusted and upset with the facility, the staff, the situation, everything.

The car does get great gas mileage and the price of fuel isn’t going down here. I guess that is how we (and everyone else) justifies it. Still the sting of the hypocrisy of the situation is raw.

I need to get an STE certificate for my job, okay fine. I am excited to do it but there are problems. The classes are 8 hours a day on Saturdays, 3 weeks a month for 9 months starting in August.

Okay fine except in the fall soccer is on Saturday morning so I will be missing that. Also my husband usually works Saturdays so we are going to have to alternate with my mother in law (if she isn’t at her cabin) and I suspect we’ll need to find someone else too. Also I used to attend church on Saturdays and hoped I would grow a soul one day start going again this year. Oh well summer 2009 isn’t too far off right?

The best part of all of this is that each class is $550 a month. That is almost two car payments or almost two weeks of groceries. Luckily my husband has offered to pay for the classes because I can’t seem to find a part time job that fits into my crazy ass schedule.

Here is a screen shot of my view. I still refuse to get LASIK though, even if I am a candidate. I am chicken shit.

Notice how I only have room for one or two open windows in my start bar. It does that stupid pile thing with only a couple windows open.

Today (at work too) I had to stop using the tree style tabs because they are just too difficult to see where one tab stopped and the next started. It would be nice if I could adjust their height.

I am considering hooking my laptop up to my television so that I’ll have a bigger monitor until I am ready to get a bigger laptop (i.e. get me a big ole Macbook Pro because my husband’s giant Vista laptop is practically useless unless I disable anything that even resembles virus protection so the thing may as well be a huge wad of toilet paper). June 30th is sneaking up on me… /rant.

The only other people I know whose screen res is this low are people in their 50’s… this is so sad. LOL.

*I almost published this post as a page. Apparently I can’t read now either.

Summer sucks because I don’t like being too hot. Even though I have AC in my house and car, it has been too hot to be outside a lot the last few summers.

Summer sucks because all my kid’s friends with SAHMs ask to do play dates in the middle of a week day. Unless it is a national holiday - assume that I am at work and my children are unavailable for play dates.

Summer sucks because it is the busy season for my husband’s company so vacation is rarely possible. I do not vacation with kids and with out my husband. I did it once… never again.

Summer sucks because my kids have to go to a new childcare for the summer and make yet another transition.

Summer sucks because I still have the expectation on myself to some how magically be with the kids and entertain more like I did when I stayed at home.

Luckily both the preschool and 1st grade are sending home stacks of homework for the kids to do over the summer so that they don’t forget everything.

Luckily we have grass covering 90% of our backyard this year and can spend even more time back there.

Luckily oil is more expensive. We are forced to be more frugal but also more creative. We are finding that with careful planning and creativity out lifestyle is not impeded upon at all. In fact it is not so careless, it is meticulously planned, it is more green. Challenge of this nature squeezes out excess. It is interesting to change and evolve. I will miss my luxurious van but either make small uncomfortable adjustments now or big painful ones later.

Luckily there are many sports available for the kids to enjoy all summer long since I do not permit week day sports during the school year yet.

Luckily I am an expert popsicle creator.

Luckily life goes by at the perfect speed.

When I was young I would hate how people in movies could never bring themselves to say the words they really wanted to say.

I find myself in that precarious situation more and more these days. The words just sit there like a cement block on my tongue, daring me to budge them over the cliff of my tongue and onto my lips.

More than that, the people I want to say some very important (to me) things to - are no where to be found when I want to say the things I have to say. This is my own fault of course since I have not sought these people out. They have no clue that I need to pour out my soul to them.

Then there are people whose attention I have managed to grab and less than a quarter of the way through what I am saying, it becomes obvious that they either don’t care or don’t get it.

I feel like one of those dark little emo girls who feels like no one in the world understands her.

Someone once said to me (after reading my blog) “I think you are depressed”. No shit! I say so right on my About page.