Change of Pace

So, the hubby is going to be working day shift for the next few weeks. I'm trying not to get my hopes up and think that things will be 100% better than they have been lately. In the last few years, I've finally figured out that sometimes people create their own misery... By expecting too much and idolizing those closest to them. Thus, I’ve deciphered another problem in my marriage.

Recently, we had some friends over for cake and ice cream so we could celebrate my oldest daughter’s birthday. We make these get-togethers a fairly simple affair; I try to serve lots of yummy appetizers and top it off with The Birthday Song and dessert. Although we’ve only done this a four or five times in the last couple of years, I always enjoy the opportunity to entertain, have an adult conversation with more than one person at a time, and not worry about a sitter because all of the kids are playing around the house and having their own fun.

Long story short, my bestest friend K pointed out that that particular evening, the control/perfectionist issue was obvious. I was oblivious to it… Basically, it came down to “how we were going to cut the cake”. I won’t go into details, but basically I said to myself, “Screw this!” and went ahead and did what I needed to do… There was cake and people love cake. Just cut the damn thing so we can EAT!!! LOL.

After that, I began to notice how S has to be right or make a clarification for almost everything that we discuss. Not that this has happened, I can imagine that the conversation would go like this:

M – I just cleaned the bathrooms and made sure that there was extra toilet paper for the guests.
S – Which way did you roll it?
M – What do you mean by “Which way did I roll it?”
S – Well, if you roll it with the paper coming out from underneath, then it makes it harder to wrap around.
M – (Sighs to herself… Whatever!)

S does tend to become the expert on all things, big and small. Just figuring this out makes me feel as if he’s wobbling on the pedestal that I placed him on years ago. My fault, not his.

It is true… A dad is important in influencing how daughters feel about themselves and how they interact with the opposite sex. My mom was a senior in high school when she met my dad. He was a saxophone player in a band and she was crazy about him. Young and naïve, or maybe he was older and sneaky, they eloped and married. I was born about a year later. The only thing I remember about the man that broke my mother’s heart was visiting him in Huntsville, Texas. Eventually, I found out that he was a heroin addict and was in prison for burglary. I guess you’ll do what you have to do if you’re an addict…

There were also a few occasions where he’s pop into town, call mom, and ask if he could come and visit me. I only know about the couple of times that he never showed up. Eventually, she would say "sure" but not tell me that he had called, knowing that he’d bail out.

My stepfather was no better… He was an alcoholic and abused our family in more ways that most “normal” people could imagine. Again, I saw that mom put up with a man, and I use that term loosely, that would almost beat her within an inch of her life and attempt to take my brother as a bonus. So much for having a daddy…

Needless to say, I figured out in college that I needed help and was very successful in my PTSD recovery. To this day, I feel that things happened the way they did as a reminder of how grateful we must be for love and friendship, and that with hard work and determination, anyone can overcome anything.

I’ve often wondered how my past has affected the decisions I’ve made as an adult. Hopefully, I can explain this and it will make sense. S is symbolic of security, stability, and safety. Here’s the tricky part. If they are lucky, women will become comfortable with their sexuality BEFORE they get married. Read: That DOES NOT mean having pre-marital sex. Having knowledge of how the psyche works, especially in those people whose normal development has been “stunted” due to traumatic events in their past, I am in a totally different place than I was when I married seven years ago.

Don’t get me wrong, I seem to think that my husband is attractive. He is very charming when he flirts and I have no doubt that he could make the average woman swoon. (I’m not implying that he’s doing that now!!)

I feel as I’ve gone from insecure little girl to a woman with some clues about life… But, I’m still trying to figure out why S no longer “fits the bill”, so to speak, other than the fact that he has become distant.

The other night, I thought about smothering him with his Temperpedic pillow in his sleep. Since this past January, I have gone from 128 to my current 112 pounds. (I’m only 5’1”; some people might argue that the 1” is an exaggeration.) Although I consider myself a little jiggly in all the wrong places, what woman doesn’t, I though I looked like a hot mom. Anyway, I had found a bargain, a very cute but simple little lacy thing to wear to bed, black. Cute! (Not in a “Hey, look at that cute puppy!” but really in a sexy kinda way.)

S – Did you just buy that?
M – Why, yes I did… You like??
S – (Rolls over and goes to sleep.)

The preceding account is NOT a fictitious happening. I’m still shaking my head on that one. Why? Not because I was disappointed, but mostly because I WASN'T. Makes no sense to me. I'm sure someone out there will read this and shed some light...

It would be a truly amazing thing if we could see ourselves as others do. Blogging - Another wonder of the 21st century!! Some might be mortified by what they would see, but I believe that most people would actually love and respect the person that they see, warts and all.

Love Is Blue...

Friday was a roller coaster… I spent the last day of freedom, aka “medical leave”, hanging out with a friend, tested and passed my yellow belt exam (Heck yeah!), and had a soul-searching conversation with my friend and her hubby. I really owe a lot to all of my friends. During what seems to be a transitional period in my life, they’ve been there to offer support, a shoulder to cry on, and sound advice.

I’m stuck and in trouble…

Stuck because I have some decisions to make and, in either scenario, there will be tears shed, gnashing of teeth, and lots of heartbreak. How does one decide that enough is enough?

Here’s what’s at stake:
* A seven year marriage
* My sanity
* My children’s sanity

I’ve tried so hard and patiently on the marriage, especially in the last couple of months or so. I love my husband but I find him incapable of giving me what I need… emotional support and intimacy. (Hence the old cliché, “I love you but am not in love with you.”)

We actually met online in August of 1999. Newly separated from a former husband, June 30th marked the day that I moved from Lubbock to Albuquerque, with aspirations of continuing my education and performing careers by teaching 5th grade and joining a mariachi. Looking to find some gigs quickly, I placed a “friends” ad on a popular website and started meeting people to hang out with.

S. was in a rock band and looking for a violinist to be featured on a song that he had written for the CD they were recording. We met at a pottery shop and made a couple of items. Smart guy: The second date was set because we would need to pick up the pieces we made the next week. From there, we’d see each other every few days or so, but within a couple of weeks, The Company would send him to Phoenix for training that would last a few months.

I was still going on a few dates here and there and meeting more people… Being single was pretty good, much better than my college days. At least I didn’t have to wait for $1 drink night if I wanted to go out dancing with the gals and I could afford to do more than just that. I actually went on my first fishing trip, hung out with a singles group that was part of a local religious organization (I miss board game nite!), met friends for dinner at places with real food (Steak!!), and got to visit an Indian reservation on one of their feast days.

Meanwhile, S. and I kept up with each other via e-mail and a phone call every few days. I liked this arrangement because I didn’t feel smothered and he was one of the first guys that I had ever maintained a quasi-dating relationship with that was very comfortable and platonic.
About late September, he started driving home to Albuquerque every couple of weeks on his days off… No easy feat as he only had a few days and the drive was pretty lonely and long. Still, things were very simple yet nice, and we were still being good, wink-wink. Then, in about mid-October, things got to the next level, we were officially dating each other exclusively. In a way, I was surprised at smoothly the relationship was still going. One of my good friends at the time, Bill, was sort of a mentor, although he was at least 10 years younger, gave me advice and helped decode the mystery known as the single man. (We joked that because S. was thin, neat, and single, he must be gay… Why else would he not have tried to hit on me for a couple of months?)

S. called me up one day and asked if I would fly out there for a weekend visit. I panicked. Calling up Bill crying, I told him that I was going to break things off and that I couldn’t take this relationship any further. Stunned, he asked why I would do such a silly thing.
“It’s the other shoe… When it drops, I just don’t know if I could take the heartbreak.” Bill just laughed sweetly and asked why I would think such a thing. “All men are @ssholes and there’s no such thing as a perfect relationship. This one has just gone way too smoothly.” Then he talked to sense into me. “Because he hasn’t done anything to disrespect or harm you, and you enjoy being with him, you owe him the benefit of the doubt. Go out to Phoenix and see what happens. Then you can make this decision.”

I arrived early one morning at Sky Harbor with S. waiting there for me. We went directly to the suite he was living in, but he said that I should go ahead and leave my suitcase in the car. We rested and talked for a few minutes and then announced that we would be going to the Grand Canyon for the weekend. Wow! What a surprise! It was fall and the weather and scenery was going to be just fabulous. I couldn’t wait!

Right before our arrival at the hotel, he asked if I would need a separate room or not. I went out on a limb and told him that one room was fine. Could that have been my rubicon??

The weekend was pleasant, but short, and I was glad that I had made the decision to give him a chance. Arriving home, life was back to normal. S. continued to drive back and forth on his days off and I’d keep busy teaching during the week. I hated the evenings alone but knew that his stint in Phoenix would be over soon enough.

Thanksgiving came and went… We decorated my little Christmas tree and roasted marshmallows in my tiny fireplace. The next morning, a gift waited for me: A shop vac. I had never lit a fire before in that apartment, not wanting to deal with the mess afterwards, but now I could enjoy a cozy evening anytime I wanted. I’m still perplexed by that one.

December was quickly approaching and S. would soon be home for good. Back in Lubbock, my cousin’s daughter was not doing well. She was suffering from a fatal lung disease and was in the final stages of her battle. I was especially heartbroken for her as this was her senior year in high school, with plans to continue as an education major at Texas Tech. Over the last few years, Margaret would help me set up my classroom each year and was looking forward to having her own class one day.

Not knowing if it was the stress from Marge’s condition, teaching, and the holiday season, I began to feel run down… And, although I had faithfully taken The Pill for years now, I was late for the very first time. I mustered up some courage and bought a pregnancy test, and of course, the first signs of what was to be my little Kait, appeared as a plus-sign in the little window.

Panic… I called my mom, crying, and she assured me that everything was going to be alright. (I would be 33 years old in about a month; She was secretly pleased that I, her eldest, would finally be giving her a grandchild.) We talked and made some tentative plans and I felt better afterwards as most moms are apt to do.

I dared not say a thing to S. until he was home for good, which would be in exactly 1 week to the day, which would happen to pass very s-l-o-w-l-y. Leaving a message on his machine the day before, I asked him to call me as soon as he arrived into town. Having had a long day of driving, he went straight to bed without calling. When I had the left the message, I tried very hard to hide the sense of urgency in my voice, but could no longer keep my situation a secret. He asked if I could let him sleep for a few hours and come by later. Although I had work early the next morning, I agreed and I killed time at a coffeehouse, rehearsing what I was going to say and predict how this was all going to come down.

The Plan:
1. Assure S. that this was indeed an “accident”… Getting pregnant was not expected and that he need only be involved if that is his true intent.
2. If he did not want to be a part of my pregnancy and a daddy, I would be moving to California so I could get support from my family, especially my mom.
3. An abortion would be out of the question.

So, I get there and he’s still quite groggy… The room is dark and I laid down next to him, my heart pounding in fear. Finally mustering the courage, I made my announcement…
His words? Shit. I had obviously given him news that he hadn’t expected. Then the next unexpected action took place.

“What do you want?”

At first, I didn’t really understand the question but then the truth revealed itself: He wanted to know what would make me happy about being pregnant with his child and what I wanted my future to look like. Having grown up without a dad, I knew immediately. I wanted my child to grow up with a father, someone who would be there and to create a better life for this little one than the one I had.

Our decision was made and we immediately started looking at houses and planning for a wedding and the new baby. I have to admit, it was all very exciting and time seemed to move quickly. Kaitlyn was born months later in August of 2000 and we were married January 2001.

Looking back at the last several years, I can honestly say that there was only a few times that I ever felt “madly” in love… Mostly, we’ve maintained a relationship with mutual trust and respect and have played the roles of husband/wife and daddy/mommy to the best of our abilities. But, unfortunately, I’ve never felt that he was my soul mate and I doubt that he feels the same way about me, although he would probably never admit it. (I think I know who his soul mate is, but from what I know, he never pursued a relationship with her because he claims that they were both too much alike… stubborn and hot-tempered.)

I can tell that he is not happy and has not even bothered to ask about my unhappiness, although I’ve already tried letting him know how I feel. When I ask him about his funk, he claims that the only thing wrong is that he’s tired that the house is a mess. (Can you say COP OUT??) Our home is not dirty, nor is it a mess, but it is not perfect. He would never admit to it, but he is truly a perfectionist and it’s key to what is happening right now. I’m not perfect and the girls aren’t either. I am who I am and he cannot expect me to change… I try the best that I can but the state of my closets is the last thing I want to deal with right now, or ever for that matter. Life is too short.

On his days off, he is usually ill with migraines or stomach concerns, busy doing “stuff”, or on the computer. I’m not stupid… The signs are all there. I know from enough experience that there is a stressor causing his health issues and his distance is an avoidance of intimacy.

I’m not sure how to get him to admit it other than screaming at the top of my lungs:
“WE’RE NOT HAPPY AND WHAT IN THE HELL ARE WE GOING TO DO ABOUT IT??”

I’m tired and exhausted…
My kids are acting out.
S. and I have opposite schedules.
The daddy that I wanted for them is never around.

I look around and see a nice home filled with nice things. I am proud of the fact that my husband is a hard worker and would work even harder to give us the material things that we want. But, I would give it all up to go to bed tonight and wake up in the morning next to someone that not only loves me but feels a fire and passion for our life together.

I grew up dirt poor; this is not an exaggeration. Not having the things you need sucks, especially if you have kids. With God’s help, He’s given me the talents and the strength
to work hard to get the things that I've needed and would continue to do so.

I’m stuck because fear is one of the most crippling emotions.