Tuesday's Child

Back from vacation, above.  It wasn't our greatest trip ever with some travel arrangement mix-ups, and being randomly selected and severely hassled by the border patrol for no reason- which made J state that he will never never ever go back to Canada again.  But J was away from work for a week and could relax his brain and body for a short time, and that is what our vacations are all about.  J gets 4 weeks of vacation a year, I used to get 3.  So we would take 3 week long vacations and J would use his other days off here and there.  One vacation is always back to my hometown to visit my parents, but since they live on the beach it's a conveniently good place to waste a few days anyhow.  The other two weeks we always try to go somewhere we've never been before.  I am trying to convince J that maybe instead of just two week long trips, we can find places closer to home and take multiple long weekends, taking off maybe 1-2 days at a time.  We would get to travel more that way.  But he says unless he's off for an entire week from work, he doesn't really feel the benefits of time away. Honestly, the older I get, I really don't like being away from home for an entire week.

But the fact is, as far as travel goes, we can pretty much do anything we want and go anytime or anywhere we pick.  If he came home today and said, let's take Friday off and head to the mountains, we would zip out of here on Thursday night without a second thought.  It's easier now that I'm not working, but even when I had a job it was not a huge deal for me to ask to schedule a day off.  And I think the main reason for all of this is, we don't have children.  I've brought up the subject before, but last night I really had a moment where I reflected hard on it.  Yes, when J and I married we were in our very late 30's, and although we were hopeful and we tried to get pregnant it never happened.  Even now at 46, I don't use birth control and haven't since the day we said our "I do's", but I know the likelihood of pregnancy is super low.  I might as well plan on winning the lottery instead.  I've been premenopausal for the last few years, with very unpredictable cycles, sometimes (like right now) I go 2-4 months without a period.  I know, way too much information, even for a semi-anonymous blog.

Last night after dinner, we got an SOS from friends of ours.  They are just a few years older, which means they are nearing 50.  They've been married for over 20 years.  They recently bought a wonderful big home on a large piece of property, and have done an awesome job of landscaping, planting fruit trees and a veggie garden.  She's been canning berries and making jam and homemade pies.  He works full time, and she part time at a church daycare.  She also sells her art online. They have a cat and four dogs. We go out with them from time to time, to dinner or to auctions, and they throw great parties at their house.  But for the last year or so, they've been in the system to try to get a foster child with the hopes of permanently adopting.  The husband himself was adopted, so he feels like it's something he wants to do for another child in need, and I commend him for that- although he has a grown son from a previous marriage, they do not have a child together.  They've gotten their hopes up before, with the promise of a foster child coming their way, only to have the system bog down and phone calls never returned, or paperwork never forwarded.  Typical bureaucratic BS.  At the last few auctions we've gone to together, they've bought items that a child would need- a little red wagon, a bicycle, a desk, an old trunk to store toys.  There is a room ready and waiting.  They've been taking the required parenting classes throughout the year.

Yesterday they received word that today, they may be able to get not one child, but three siblings.  So last night we volunteered our pickup truck and helped them scramble to go get a bed from another friend who had one to spare.  Today they are waiting for that phone call, again.  This will be the third or fourth time they've gone through this, expecting news.  This time they seem more hopeful, that the call this morning from their case worker will be the one to say, come and meet your new children.  

J and I talked briefly about adopting a baby, long ago when it became evident we weren't going to get pregnant.  He was open to it, I was not.  I took the opinion that, if he and I couldn't conceive a child of our own, that was the universe telling us not to have kids.  I still have that opinion, but I apply that only to the two of us.  I don't have that viewpoint for anyone else but me, and obviously adoption is a wonderful and amazing gift to a child and couple.  I have plenty of friends who have gone through it.  It just wasn't a decision I felt was right for the two of us, at this point in our lives.  If we had adopted even in our early 40's, I thought about the long term implications.  We would be 60 and raising a teenager.  We would be 65 and getting Social Security, yet paying for a kid in college.  Then we would have a child just starting out in life as a young adult, but dealing with putting mom and dad in an old folks' home.  Wow, that just didn't seem right.

Our friends are overjoyed at the prospect of having a foster child, even multiple children and sight unseen at that.  They didn't think twice about taking three small children- two sisters and their little brother.  I know I couldn't do it.  I could not, at almost 50, take on a four-year-old boy with all the energy and mischievous ways that little boys have bottled up inside of them.  It would crush me to the bone.  I have delightfully devilish nephews whom I adore- I know what little boys are like.  The girls, I believe, are 7 and 8.  My head spins at the thought.  Play dates, homework, bake sales, school plays, birthday parties.  I couldn't keep up with it.  J is gone from the house from 7AM to 7PM and later, with the type of job where he can't leave at three because his kid has a softball game.  We are hoping to retire when we are in our 50's, and we could only achieve that nearly impossible dream that none of our other friends will be able to do, because we didn't have children.  I do joke that when I'm on my deathbed, no one will come to visit me, but hopefully the rest of my life with J will be so spectacular that I won't care. 

I know our friends will make wonderful parents, they are funny and warm and loving people.  He works with J, and works the same long hours away from home. It makes me wonder how he will be able to find the time and energy to devote to three small children, who will need a great deal of support and stability and commitment.  Will she have to quit her job, one that she loves so much?  I have no doubt they will find a way to raise a family, whether or not they bring home children today or get once again shuffled back to the waiting game.  I've had my moments where it made me wonder, was I a bad person for telling J adoption was not a viable choice for us.  Did I rob him?  He is the only son of an only son, there will be no one to carry on that family name.  I think that he's okay with where we are in life, our early retirement plans, our little world of just two (and the kitties, always).  When we go out and see kids in public having a screaming temper tantrum, we look at each other and bust out with a laugh and say, wow did we ever really want that?  Is that what we're missing out on?  But sometimes I secretly worry that maybe he did want that for us and now it's too late.

MISS GEE

Happiness Scale

So I would give it a 6 right about now, maybe a weak 7...

It's a 7 right now because we leave for vacation on Saturday, so as always I'm full of anticipation and excitement.  But at these times, I'm also always filled with anxiety- did I pack everything, will the house burn down while we're gone, did the hotel lose our reservations, if it doesn't rain all week will my flowers die, will the kitties be okay (even though we have a lovely British lady who comes to check on them).  I can't shut off that worrywart side of me.

But this is a quarterly report for myself.  As in, it's been about 3 months now since I started staying at home full time.  I do miss my $50,000 annual paycheck, but I do not miss everything I went through to earn it.  We've adjusted our lifestyle to compensate for the loss of income, and so far, we're doing okay. Although in the last three months, I've been piling up the medical bills.  $800 yesterday at the dentist for a broken tooth, and that's added to the hospital bills from April we are still getting.  Not to mention all the new prescription medications.  And I've been to a few different doctors since the hospital, at least once a week it seems.  Tomorrow I go for yet more blood tests- I feel as though those will never end.  I have three appointments in one week scheduled already for the start of August. And I know that once I get back from vacation, I can no longer put off having surgery on my wrist, so I think 2013 will finish off with even more medical bills.  It sucks folks.  Even though we have insurance- which we pay dearly for- our out of pocket expenses are crazy too.  Thankfully J so far has been extremely healthy- since he and I have been together, I have lost track of all my medical situations.  Perhaps it's just that I'm in my 40's and things are starting to break down, I don't know!

My health issues keep my happiness level down.  I think I could be a 8 or 9 if all the aches and pains were gone.  I still have things I physically can't do around the house, things that a normal person takes for granted. But it's getting better.  I hope that once I have my wrist surgery, the healing process will be quick and that this will be the last thing I have go wrong.  I had shoulder surgery in early 2011 and that took almost these past two years to recover from, and just when I started feeling better and normal again, the issue came up with my right wrist (DeQuervain's if you care to read up on it).  Before my shoulder issue it was my lower back, and I spent at least 3 years in and out of different doctors' offices and pain clinics with that.  I know J probably must feel like he bought a lemon, only he can't trade me in for a newer version.

Before I stopped working, my happiness level was barely a 1.  Maybe on the weekends it would be a 4, because though I spent my weekends with J, we were working our butts off trying to catch up on house and yard work, and the dreaded Monday morning always hung over me.  I would try to relax on Friday evenings, but even if we were downtown on the square eating pizza, I was sitting there fretting over what I had to do on Monday morning.  The job devoured me, so my happiness- when I did manage to feel it- was a fleeting morsel at best.  One I barely got to taste before the bitterness of a new workweek settled in.

But I said it's a 6 or 7 now, so I know life is slowly getting better for me.  And for J too, I hope.  Since April, I've lost almost 25 pounds which has helped my mood and my energy.  J has lost quite a bit of weight too, because we no longer leave work together at 7:30 at night and stop at Zaxby's or Dairy Queen or Taco Bell for dinner.  J can come directly home and I have a healthy dinner waiting- baked chicken and roasted veggies and a salad.  I know his happiness level has gone up because of that.  After dinner he has the time now to go outside and shoot basketball, or go down to the basement and play tennis on the Wii.  Before, when we were both working and would stop for dinner, sometimes 3-4 times a week, it would be after 9pm when we got home.  We slumped on the couch then fell into bed.  No home life at all during the week.  J said having me home to cook dinner, has been so wonderful for him, and he enjoys it.  Not to mention, it saves money as well.

I feel better too, now that I've gotten my pottery listed on Etsy- and made sales already!  It's encouraged me to continue to work on my art, which has started to make me feel as though I have a purpose again.  Okay, I'm not going to get rich at $5 or $10 a crack, and that's not my goal anyhow.  Yes, I've seen people on Etsy making similar items to mine, with 4,000+ sales.  Maybe that will be me one day, who knows, and it's okay if that isn't my destiny.  My Etsy shop has definitely helped me get to a 6 on the happiness scale.  The more I work on my pottery, the better I am feeling.  It's been what I've wanted to do for so long now, and to finally be there, makes me enjoy hopping out of bed in the mornings to "go to work" as it were.  Even today, when I am so very busy packing and getting the house cleaned before we leave, I know I will be upstairs shortly cranking out more of my handmade jewelry pieces.

All in all, things are better for me on most days.  I find I have highs and lows.  Although my energy and my moods are improving, it seems that it's every other day right now.  I have days where I am super productive and scurry about like a worker ant for the entire 12-13 hours that J is at work.  The next day I feel so tired, if all I do is a load of laundry, it's a great accomplishment.  J says I try to do too much on my "up" days.  Too much for me that is.  For most women, the amount of housework or exercise I do on one of my good days, would look like a vacation day for them.  Seeing as I don't have children to keep up with, I suppose my daily to-do list will always be abbreviated compared to a mom.  But I am okay with that, too.

When I left my job, the mantra that J kept repeating was, "It will be good for our relationship."  And he is right.  As my happiness level increases, I can see how much better he's been feeling as well.  I never knew how much my dark moods brought him down, and he would never put voice to it.  But I can definitely tell how my happier moods lighten his burdens of "taking care" of my mental and emotional health.  When I was sad, J was always sad along with me, and some days I think he made himself crazy trying to lift my spirits and shake me out of my blue spells.  Now I'm doing a much better job of lifting myself up, and freeing him to concentrate his love and energy on other parts of our marriage and home life.  And that in turn makes me even happier!

MISS GEE

(My "art studio"- aka the bonus room upstairs...)

Shadows

I am upset with myself over my last post.  I really just wanted to talk about my art and how I felt about it, and how it was going.  But instead I once again let feelings about my ex W, creep into the conversation.  And I don't know why.  I know I started this blog so I could hash out all the things kept deep in my brain and heart, but why do so many of my posts turn into me dissecting the corpse of my first marriage.  I realize that a lot of who I am today and how I look at myself, are lingering feelings from that time period.  Do not get me wrong.  There are no lingering feelings for him, at all.  None.  For a long time, I hated him. Now I feel nothing at all. Sometimes I'm curious enough to Google him, but nothing relevant ever comes up.  On the search pages, his last listed address was our old house, and he moved out of there in 2004.  Apparently he has his own business back in our old town, but it's a very generic website that has his name but no other info.  For all I know, he could be remarried with kids and a beautiful wife, lovely home, expensive sports car.  He may have kicked the drugs and gotten his life together. He was a miserable abusive jackass and addict when we were married, but people change, people turn over new leaves every day.

I don't know why I dwell on him or our marriage.  I don't have a lot of experience with divorce in my family. Other than one uncle, I'm the only person on either side who has been divorced.  Seriously.  Out of all the parents' siblings, my cousins, etc., no one has been divorced.  I guess that speaks highly of my family tree.  And maybe that's why it makes me feel super low that here I am, that one branch with the rotten apple hanging on it.  But that was in the past, and obviously I've moved on and my life with J is amazing and almost magical now.  Divorce is still a stigma though.  I don't like thinking of J as my "second" husband.  Yet I don't hide the fact that I've been married and divorced before.  I should call J my "forever" husband I suppose.

J understands, I hope.  I am actually wife #3 for him.  Yes, it's true.  He was twice divorced when I met him, which should have sent up red flags but I was already so in love, I didn't care.  Even today, ten years later, I don't even give it a second thought.  The first time J was married, he was very young, barely out of his teens. She was his first girlfriend, and they rushed into marriage, he said not because he loved her but because he thought it was expected of him.  It lasted about a year- she cheated on him, he left, they divorced.  The second time he was still young, in his 20's, he said he was at a very low point in his life and one day he ran into a girl he used to date.  He said he was so deeply lonely that they went to dinner, he got incredibly drunk, and asked her to run off and marry him.  Needless to say, that marriage lasted slightly longer than the blink of an eye- she ran up his credit cards, left him, and he had to file bankruptcy.  By the time I met J in his mid-30's, he had been divorced for probably a decade and was just coming out of a relationship of 2 years (which for him was long term) with another woman who cheated on him then dumped him for the other guy.  J was damaged goods when our paths crossed, for certain.  He had his guard up, and although he was wonderful to me from the very beginning, it took a long time for me to break down that barrier.

But J is over all of it, it's as though none of those other women ever existed, like they never hurt him.  All he sees is me.  He doesn't talk about them, and I would bet money that he doesn't even think about them.  Which is why I think it's hard for him to comprehend how I still get bogged down mentally and emotionally, and feel trapped in all the old labels- stupid, fat, worthless, lazy- that W placed on me.  J thinks I'm wonderful- smart, funny, pretty, kind.  Those are the only labels that should matter.  W hated his mother, barely spoke to her.  J adores his mom, we visit his parents as often as possible.  So the old cliche about how a man treats his mother is how he will treat his wife, is true.  W showed me as much disdain as he did his mom and two sisters.  J would do anything in the world for his mother and two sisters and three nieces. Amazing that two men raised in a family of women, would learn to treat them so differently.  Both men had parents that were still married, both men had hard-working fathers.  I am not sure why J continued on that path of goodness and love and warmth, and why W splintered off to the point that he would tell me repeatedly, "All women are whores.  You, my mother, my sisters, my niece.  All women."

The one difference that I know of, is that W's father was horribly and openly promiscuous throughout the entire marriage.  When W was small, his father would leave him in the car while he went to "visit" the other ladies in his life.  Later on when W was an adult, his father was still carrying on with other women, and his mother turned a blind eye to it.  Obviously W had a skewed vision when it came to women- the ones his father cheated with, and his mother who chose not to stand up and put a stop to it.  Of course, W told me all of this after we were already separated and weeks away from our date in divorce court.  Perhaps if he had bothered to share this with me sometime during our 13-year relationship, it's something we could have gotten him counseling for.  He so very much needed it.  On the other hand, J's parents have a strong marriage and they are very deeply devoted to their church, their community, and above all else, family. J had a strict upbringing, had to work hard on their farm alongside his sisters, and lived nextdoor to his grandmother.  He sees women as tender partners, not the enemy.  Even though his previous "partners" all cheated on him, used him, abandoned him- he could have hardened his heart against the female race.  Yet he still continues to be a loving man.

The mere fact that W hated all women so much, should be enough to lighten my burden.  It wasn't me, it wasn't anything at all about me.  It wouldn't have mattered who his wife was at that time, he would have treated her as roughly as he treated me.  He would have dismissed her feelings, belittled and degraded her, he would have continued to crush her spirit, the same way he did me.  Whatever anger he felt for his father's many mistresses, or his meek mother, he was taking it out on me.  No matter what I did, it wouldn't have changed him or his actions. W was my past, never more to speak one single ugly word to me. I've got to let it go.  He can't define me anymore.

I have an amazing father- supportive and caring and attentive- so I have a great role model for the perfect husband and marriage.  Meeting J was that light bulb moment for me.  I didn't have to stay trapped in a cold, hellish life with W.  I could be in a normal relationship.  Someone out there did find me attractive.  Here was a man who listened to me, respected me, wanted to be with me, didn't argue with me constantly. He called me by sweet nicknames and not "you fucking bitch".  Here was someone who wanted to lift me up, not push me down.  This man would take care of me, hold me, find joy with me, and want to be with me always.  Someone who actually appreciated me for being me.

Here was a man who epitomized the word love.  I am so eternally grateful that I found him.

MISS GEE

Butterflies

This morning my stomach is in knots, and for a very stupid reason.  Stupid to anyone else reading this, but real and anxiety-inducing to me.  As long as I can remember I have always worried about the "what if's" in life.  I get worked up and make myself sick, fretting over things that 99% of the time, never even happen.  But sometimes that fear of what may happen, slim chance or not, keeps me paralyzed from moving forward.  It's probably the number one thing about my personality that actually bugs J, and since he's so laid back and calm, for this to bother him you know it's a serious character defect on my part.  He always wants the best for me, so he wants me to be confident in myself and push beyond the worries and pursue my dreams.  To have faith in my abilities, and stop beating myself up all the time.

Today I am finally going to list some of my pottery on Etsy.  I even made an announcement on my Facebook page, put it on my family blog, created a new Facebook page for my Etsy store.  I have followers on a page that doesn't even have any posts yet, and followers for an Etsy store that hasn't had anything for sale since 2008.  I made myself do this, to tell everyone I know about my forthcoming venture, so that it would force me into making that next step. This past weekend we went to a family gathering, and everyone was asking me when they can see my work online. I have to step up now, I have to answer those queries. I've been making the pottery since last year, and it's piled up in a cabinet in my art studio, just sitting there where no one sees it but me.  Not even J. He sees it when it comes out of the kiln and I bring everything up from the basement, then it disappears into my private domain upstairs.  (I was going to call it my woman cave, but that sounded oh so creepy.)  There are no expectations from J, he is not banking on me earning any kind of income or profit on my handmade baubles.  He just wants me to have fun and enjoy my life again.  To be happy.

Let's face it, I've been complaining the last few years about my job not giving me enough free time to work on any of my art, and after J okayed the kiln purchase last year- well, everything in the last few months has fallen into place for me to do art and pottery full time now.  It's now or never, and I realize that. If I don't make a go of it right now, I never never ever will.  I don't want J to see me as a fraud, as a dreamer but not a doer, or worse- I don't want him to see me as a lazy failure.  This morning I have the kitchen table covered with my most recent pieces and I'm taking pictures, then I can get going.  So by the end of today, I will officially be back on Etsy.  And that excites and scares me at the same time.  I am not sure why.  When I was actively selling on eBay and Etsy before, I sold every single thing I listed.  My pottery, my paintings.  Everything.

I worry about the small things- will my photos look okay, what should I charge, what if nothing ever sells?  But by far my biggest fear is being judged, by the family and friends who will see what I've made.  I know my family is already supportive, and most of them already have one or two of my bowls in their homes that were gifts.  Family is going to love everything I make, they are obligated to oohh and aahh, aren't they?  But newer friends will see my work too.  I can imagine some of them saying, really?  Is that it?  That sorta sucks.  You said you were an "artist".  My six-year-old can shape clay better than that at summer camp.  This is what has kept me from exposing myself, although selling my art is what I truly want to do.  So does it make sense that I am scared to simply put photos online? Why is that fear keeping me from moving forward, keeping me from finally getting started on a path that could lead me to exactly where I want to go.  If I'm going to sell art, people have to see it!  I don't know why I get so bogged down in my anxiety, but I do.  With absolutely everything.

Of course I recognize that most of these negative feelings spring from the yesterdays of my first marriage, and the way the ex treated me.  All the doubts in myself, the lack of confidence, the low self-esteem.  He told me for 13 years how much I sucked at everything.  I know I continue to harp on that fact, but it still plays such a major role in how I see myself these days.  If that ugly, hate-filled voice of his ever goes away finally, maybe I will find peace and gain trust in my own self.  Maybe my own voice will stand out and override all the abusive words.  Maybe the fears and bothersome worries will fade into nothingness one day, and I can say to myself- hell yes this is me and I like it!

I know my work is very amateur, I don't even know how to throw pottery on a wheel, and I've never taken an art class in my life as far as painting goes.  I have a very tiny kiln, and making jewelry pieces and small hand-shaped candle dishes is going to be my limit right now.  And there is nothing wrong with that, if only I can convince myself of it.  I have never claimed to be talented, and I know I'm not. I see what is out there on Etsy, I go to art festivals and the small shops and galleries downtown.  I recognize real talent.  I think my fear of others criticizing me, or thinking poorly of me, has kept me from putting anything online up to this point.  Maybe I shouldn't have told everyone I would be selling online, but when I did it, I felt like it was a kick in the butt to carry me into this next phase. If not, I would just have to buy another cabinet to hide away the pottery I keep making, where it will sit in the dark and collect dust, and make me feel a mixture of delight and sadness every time I look at all of it.  And so now here I am, my foot on the first step that can only lead up!  I am just disappointed with myself, that it's taken this long to get to that starting point.

MISS GEE