Part 2 - Ten years ago.

What it meant, explained Dr. T nervously, was that my son had a condition known as hydrocephalus, which is commonly, but inaccurately referred to as "water on the brain" - for my nineteen week old son what this meant (I would come to understand better in the days following) was that something undetectable, undiagnosable was blocking the fourth, rear ventricle in his brain - this blockage was interrupting the constant flow of cerebral spinal fluid that is flowing through our bodies in a circular fashion at all times - in through the back right ventricle passed to the front right, over then to the front left and to the back left, down the spine and back up again, REPEAT - an ever constant loop of life precious fluid.
My son's back left ventricle looked like a kidney bean all swollen and big, when it should have looked, at least to my lay person eyes, like they variation of gray matter, indiscernible - just as on the right side.
I heard the words, I saw the photos in front of me, I saw Dan's wedding ring spinning out of the corner of my eye and I felt my baby move, inside of ME.
It is really difficult for me to articulate that moment in time....
If there are words that accurately convey it, I have yet to discover the proper sequence.
I cannot tell you what it felt like - All I can say, is that I have never in all my life felt the way I did in that moment.
I had been dizzy before - fainted even.
I had been nauseous before - puked my guts up.
I had felt fear - too many varieties to name.
I had felt grief - Omar's untimely death.
The moment I heard the words "your son's brain has developed abnormally" - I realized in my mind some concept of actual infinity - then, that every bad emotion I had ever known (on any scale in my life) had suddenly multiplied by this new fathomed endless concept, morphed into an actual animate object, and fell on top of me,crushing me, to within inches of my death or life - Yes, okay, breath making it to my lungs, but in a pinched stream of barely bursts.
Yes keeping me conscious but, only enough to feel the pain of breathing.
I watched Dan spin his ring..... And thought about my other boys, what would I say to them, how would I break the news to them, how would I ever be capable of comforting these two little men who had innocently and excitedly come to see their new baby?
What words would I use?
Abnormal brain development?
Clogged ventricle?
Special head?
The room got very grainy - I always describe it like the Andy Warhol pop art print of Marilyn Monroe - everything broke down to dots - atoms - the room around me was breaking apart.
The doctor gently explained that he had no answers, but that, when he has seen "similar" scenarios - the outcome has rarely been good.
So wait.....in my head...."you can't fix this?"
Wait....You are saying he is going to die?
Wait, what?
Wait, I want to go back to this afternoon when I was eating that stupid fucking nectarine.
Wait.....what is happening?
There was no diagnosis and may never be, unless the fetus was aborted, an autopsy performed, a brain dissection. - this could provide valuable answers - not that will help you naturally because your baby will be dead, but for future Mother's who will watch their husband spin their wedding bands right there in that very chair...
What? Abortion?
Yes - "You may want to consider termination"
But wait, he just kicked me - abort him? Why?
This cannot be fixed?
NO DIAGNOSIS - we just don't know what to fix....

I was then given what little information could be ascertained - Dr.T assured me he would research case studies and try to gather material for me to read to "weigh" the possible outcomes which could "sway" the direction of my decision.
But....."Keep in mind that you are almost outside the window of a legal abortion here in Virginia - if you choose to terminate here, it must be within the week... or we can travel to North Carolina where I have practicing rights and we can deliver the baby there."
Wait deliver the baby???
Yes - deliver the baby naturally and let him die in my arms.....
Dan stopped spinning his ring and stood up to shake Dr.T's warm hand, he told us "this is the part of my job I dread"
This is the part of my life I had no idea just an hour ago I would dread -
And I walked slowly, the weight on my chest crushing my lungs, I walked slowly to the elevator wanting to get inside of it and for the doors to close so I could be alone in private and finally, finally scream.
I remember leaning on the wall, holding on to the brass rail that lined the moving room - I was spinning so hard inside a scream couldn't form - I writhed about as something gathered inside me - something I didn't know, something I had never felt, something that I was afraid to feel, something that I thought might kill me when it was realized - I hummed in a moan of denial as the sound finally formed in my throat, I tried to swallow it out of pure fear, pure instinct.
The doors opened - I walked, breath getting harder to take - I walked out into the light of the beautiful May day, Nana's birthday - and as Dan told the boys to stay with me, he was going to retrieve the car - as I lost sight of his wedding band as he walked away, the thing that was rising inside me burst forth suddenly, heaving out of my body, literally sending me into my young son's arms -
He was ten at the time, Brian, my eldest, my over emotional child, he caught me when my legs gave out - he caught me as I cried out, a sound so distinct it can NEVER be mistaken for anything else - The cry, The plea, The prayer, The "NO" of a Mother who has just lost her child.

And with that - I need some moments to cry and stretch the tension out of my neck.
I warned you - tough stuff for me.

Ten years ago in May.

A dark morning seems about right....
It's a good morning none the less (thank you again and again Ms.Alli)
And with even more perspective than I had ten years ago - I approach going back in time with a heart and mind so full of gratefulness that I feel it could literally burst.
And yet, like all things of appreciation with me, there is a profound accompanying sadness that will travel, hand and hand.
This blog subject matter, will assuredly come in the form of a continued story which will, I imagine, take me several days to write - I will have to re-live as I blog and when it comes to this topic, it tends to get very emotional and taxing for me.
I am going to take you down memory lane - a path that as we travel will cover many many personal moments and some that will be familiar and unifying - even to those of you who read who do not know me personally - we will, as we approach the anniversary, touch gently on the subject of the September 11th terrorist attacks on my Country.
But before I get there - ten years ago today I had absolutely no idea that in four days time, the most significant historical event of my lifetime would be occurring.
For me personally, ten years ago today, I was privately preparing to give birth to a child I was sure would die in my arms as quickly as he had come into it.
I was in my own private hell, unknowingly on the brink of a Nation's hell...
And so we back we go...
I know that I have spoken of this before - and as I typed those words, my eyes burned with tears as salty water ran out of them like a faucet had been turned on rather than a sentence typed....
I know that I have written about Matthew's "special head" before, but it only seems fitting to tell the whole story on this monumental milestone.
Ten years ago on May 21st (my Nana's birthday) I was 19 weeks pregnant with my third child. I could not have been more excited or feeling more healthy, emotionally or physically.I had even fallen in love with nectarines which for my entire life, I had a strong aversion to in the texture department - they made my tongue feel all fuzzy. At 19 weeks pregnant I couldn't get enough nectarines and if they dripped juice down my arm, well than you better believe I was licking it off.
As I remember, May 21st of 2001 may very well have been a Wednesday or Thursday - the only reason I say this, is that previously in the week a co-worker/friend of mine from Greer elementary had gone to her OB/GYN for her 20 week ultra sound too - her first baby - there were like six of us at school pregnant at the same time.
There was a sadness weighing heavy on all the women at Greer that week because said friend/co-worker had gone to the ultra sound excited to see her baby for the first time (God that is an amazing moment) only to find that the baby had died in utero - no heart beat.
Because of the stage of her pregnancy, she would have to essentially deliver the deceased fetus.
I was saying then - exactly what I am saying now "I can't even imagine"
There is this really weird thing that happens when you hear of bad news and it hurts you, but you say "I can't imagine" and you MEAN it, literally, because life has never turned on you in quite such a harsh fashion - and then suddenly, unexpectedly, your "can't imagine" becomes your reality and you can imagine - every horrific detail.
That is what happened to me just a two days later when I collected my two young sons and my husband and we drove to Martha Jefferson Hospital for our first glimpse at our son and new baby (sex to be determined)....
I remember the day vividly - what I was wearing - how I felt - the magazine I thumbed through mindlessly - how I paced in the waiting room - the anxiety that filled my body that I didn't understand and blamed in the moment, on my unrelenting desire and hope that the baby would be a girl and somewhere deep down I knew it was a boy.
I wanted a girl so bad and I prayed for it - please God let me be wrong - let the nectarine fixation be indication that it is not a boy like I think it is...
I was desperate for a daughter.
I still feel bad to this day for ever thinking along lines of "preference" instead of health.
PERSPECTIVE comes down hard like a hammer to the skull or a vice grip to your heart.
When we went into the dark room, the ultra sound technician arranged the boys and Dan so they could all see the screen, jelly glob to the belly and the magic wand was off, swirling about on my skin producing pictures of my womb that amazed me all over again, each and every time I saw it - which, would end up being in excess of 30 times...But I run when I should walk - sorry...
I remember that my arms were over my head, I remember Brian and Kevin watching trying to figure out just what in the hell all that gray stuff was, "wait did she say that is a leg?"
And then, about 5 minutes in, my anxiety peaked as she circled the babies head and clicked her mouse again and again and again.
She asked "do you want to know the sex?"
Resounding "um yeah" - "It's a boy"
I felt nothing as she quickly moved the wand and pushed on my belly trying to get "him " to move so she could get a better picture of his head.
His head again.
I felt no disappointment about the boy thing - why is she at his head again???
She paused and called in the doctor and he introduced himself warmly "I am Dr. Thiagaraja, and I am going to just take a peek at this little boy"
Straight to the head - the two medical professionals exchanged a glance that only I noticed and my heart began to pound.
Sweet Jesus something is wrong with my son.....
Dr.T (as we called him) then used the phone in the room to call his assistant and see if she could entertain Brian and Kevin in her office for a bit while Dr. T took Dan and I to his.
My tummy was wiped clean, my pants pulled up and I choked silently on the scream that was rising in my throat as all the colors of my surroundings began to blur and sweat formed in swollen beads on my forehead.
I reached for Dan's hand and as he took it, I knew he didn't understand what was happening - there was calm in his palm, my fingers trembled and felt clammy and cold.
Dr.T's office had a large mahogany desk with two seats - Dan sat by the wall, me on the outside.
I watched Dan spin his wedding band on his hand, concentrating all of my energy on the action of the spinning, the methodical turning - I watched and tried to breathe in time - I remember this as if it were happening now.
Just watch Deb, spin, spin, breathe - it was like a CPR rhythm - compress, compress, give breath.
Then the pictures - 11 by 14's, glossy paper, many of them, one after the other turned towards me - magnified images of my son's brain.
Immediately, without any medical knowledge, I could see the problem.
Half of his brain had gray matter, half of it was pitch black.
PANIC rising - This cannot be right - what does this mean?

And with that - I have class - me and the cliff hangers lately....

For Alex

Good Rainy Morning to you.... I only have about ten minutes and then I have to fly off to my next class, although really what I want to do is go disappear in a comfy arm chair in the back of the library and sleep...I will survive though, big ass cup of coffee #2 just went down the gullet. Stop complaining Deb geez. I wanted to just take you down my morning thought path - this is what I was thinking as I drove to school through the mist of gray rain.... I was listening to Zac Brown "Free" as I wound down route 53. In my head, I could see Mary in the sun room at the PH house with a red pen in her hand, her long legs stretched out before her on the wicker table, a thoughtful concentration on her face as she revised a chapter of my book.... I could feel her - the vision was so detailed, so clear. I could hear her in the words Zac sang and especially in the sound of the violin as it cried. That image led me to a phone call we had recently... She called from a concert she was at in Portland - some local guy whose name I cannot recall, but voice I can. She called me at that very moment so that I could hear the song he was singing. She said "do you know what it is?" It was Tupelo Honey. She then explained to whoever was with her (Cameron I think) why that song warranted a call to me. "It was the song she heard on the radio one day and began to bawl - it was the moment she knew the baby she was carrying was a girl" My BFF is probably the only person that knows that and, would call me to share.... That thought led me to Alex - Alex is Alli's best friend (the young lady from my previous blog) My heart felt like lead and my eyes stung with tears as they filled up. I remember when I lost my best friend when I was 18... A few weeks in and life must go on. You must get out of bed. You must eat. You must go to class. You must recognize the world around you is doing the 'same old same old' BUT the world hasn't lost their best friend.... I remember getting pissed at my other friends who went to a party the weekend after Omar was buried. A party? I wanted to hide in a dark room and cry for all of eternity. Well sure a party for others - life DOES continue. But, for the BFF who has lost her other half - nothing makes much sense, especially fun stuff. I am thinking about Alex today and hoping that she does not feel too alone, but I am fully aware that she does. I barely know her - and yet I am thinking of her, praying for her and loving her in my mind and heart.... I wish that I could do something, anything to help her. I love my best friend more than words can EVER hope to articulate, communicate, convey - the pain of that loss would literally rip free from my life any sense of a foundation. I remember what it felt like at 18 and hope that I never know that reality again. I can only imagine Alex's pain. I know it makes no difference at all - but Alex, I am here if you need someone. Sigh - now I have exhaustion bags and mascara streaks....

Lucky in love.

Good Morning blog folk,
I hope that this day finds you feelin' fine...This day, is my only day off for the entire week, AND, for the upcoming FALL/WINTER season, Sundays will be my only day off every darn week....
And on the 7th day she rested? - yeah right, more like on the 7th day she cleaned her house and attempted to put away the piles of laundry that accumulate Monday through Saturday and oh wait, let's not forget about the piles of ignored bills I must learn to deal with....Ugh, sigh, grunt.
Mind you, I am not complaining - and I have Ms. Alli to thank for that, and my sister in-law Pam and a sweet little girl named Alyssa - all situations worthy of legit complaints - me, well I am grateful to live my life to the fullest, even if that means only one day off to deal with the piles of things that make up my existence....
I am feeling, all in all pretty darn grateful lately - I have a lot of blessings to be thankful for - I really am a LUCKY LUCKY LUCKY woman.
Yesterday I felt stupidly lucky, almost greedily lucky and a little guilty about how much I have, how much love I get....
First off - I would like to acknowledge the joy that a particular lady provides in my life, although she does it from a far, because she moved far far away and is now on the West Coast instead of down the road and teaching pilates at the gym...
When she did live, just down the road from me, we were, acquaintances at best - but now that she is gone, with my ability to stalk her on facebook- she has become a real distinct light in my life.
She makes me laugh and feel understood, and that, is priceless.
Her name is Jenny and she is quite possibly, one of the sweetest human beings alive. You can tell just by looking at her smile, it is one of the kind that just says, "I am genuine awesomeness" - if you look at pictures with her and her two stinkin' adorable daughters, her smile radiates "I am genuine awesomeness and I am giving all my magic to these girls who reciprocate, and in turn, life is too good to be true." At least that is what I see....
Jenny is my facebook friend - she gets me.
She always likes my status updates when she should - when I laugh after I change my post and she 'likes it' immediately - I feel a kindredness though the miles between us are great and both our lives are so full that they literally, barely have room for us.
She doesn't have to drink her morning coffee here in Virginia with me, we do it via facebook and my blog - she is always around and I love it.
This weekend, the lucky little duckling is at the Gorge partaking in the DMB caravan.....Sheesh, can I be any more jealous?
Thing is, I have had pictures sent to me on my cell along with concert updates and song to song, blow by blows - love her and her shared mental illness for the Dave.
If he was served up to me on a silver platter, I would call Jenny right off and say fly your ass to my table NOW before I gobble him all up myself.
I would share, cause she is super worthy.
At 12:42 AM I received a text - I had fallen asleep so I read it first eye opened this morning...
It was from Jenny and it read 'Come See...'
This is the opening line of my personal anthem #41....She heard the notes and thought of me....How freaking lucky am I????
Thanks Jenny for making me smile right off this morning - I think of you all the time too :)
And....I began my day already feeling lucky, residual luckiness from yesterday still a film of gratitude on my eyes, as I rubbed those suckers awake.
Yesterday at work was one of those days you wish was an every day work day....
I had the BEST customers in, and had the BEST time exchanging energy and subsequently laughed my ass off pretty much from punch in, to punch out.
I won't share all the details for they are far too many and I have too many piles of assorted crap staring at me and calling me names, ugh.
I will share just the high lights...
One was my pal Kate, who, if she does not get a damn facebook account is not allowed to come visit me next time - fudge with cayenne or no fudge with cayenne, or rum for that matter - I have will power Kate, just try me...
She lives in D.C. and has been coming in to the store for years, making me laugh by sharing stories of hilarity from her life. She is a gem - a really really great person with a beautifully warped sense of humor that hides coyly behind her lovely refined exterior and always brilliantly painted toes. She is a little spit fire that reveals her fire to you in small unexpected doses that catch you off guard and make you choke a little when the surprise of her punch line catches you off guard.
Her comic timing is impeccable - I just adore her.
I have been threatening her for months - get a facebook so I can stalk you, this once in a while friendship we share, is simply not enough...I want to have Kate, the same way I have Jenny.
I'm warning you Kate, ultimatum time :)
She bakes me things, Easter egg scones and yesterday, a tupperware of Cayenne fudge - Oh my, that by the way Kate, sat on my chest last night a top my comforter as I watched the Patriot on TBS whilst nibbling and nibbling at the spicy, addictively spicy, fudge chunks.
When my jeans don't button I am blaming you completely and thoroughly - ON YOUR FACEBOOK WALL....(insert attitudnal throat clearing here)
(Oh, disclaimer - I know I use words that are not in the dictionary yet - 'attitudnal' being one of them - following my novel winning the Pulitzer, it will be, all things in good time dears...
And so back to the day.... As if Kate and her fudgey ways were not enough already to equal fabtabulous - then came in Jennifer and Jeff.
Now Jennifer and Jeff I don't know a ton about - YET....
They are brother and sister, this I know, and they live away from cville, but close enough to get to town for a day trip.
I know little else at this point other than they crack me up and I really really enjoy talking to them - like a lot.
Even Kate got in on the Jennifer and Jeff convo - the four of us would have a too good time if you threw in dinner and some wine...
Jennifer is hilarious and Jeff is just plain sweet, smart, funny and gave me one of the best compliments I have ever received - this propelled him to the top of my list of favorite customers straight away...
I was a little nutty (go figure), maybe even a little high on caffeine without enough food (other than cayenne fudge) in my tummy - I may have been twitching a little I am not sure - at any rate, I know I was all over the place verbally, saying everything that popped into my head a aloud.
I apologized to Jeff for being a complete spaz lunatic and he said (loosely quoted)
"Don't ever apologize for your unique personality, it's wonderful and you should be proud of it"
Don't you just want to kiss him? I know I wanted to, and jump straight away into his arms the way Emma does me when I make her feel good, she wraps her legs all about me and squeezes my neck in a grateful death grip - I had the impulse to do this with Jeff, but I thought I would knock him down and kill him if I did, so I showed restraint and kept the love explosion inside.
Thing is, I needed that. Really really really really needed to hear that.
Needed to hear - be proud of who you are - you are unique.
In a world that is often unkind, where people like me are often mis-understood - a moment like that, a comment like that, can refill the reserve tank.
Erase something ugly off my childhood wall even...
Thanks Jeff for that - coming from a good guy like you, well that meant the world.

See why I am so stupid lucky??? I know right - how the hell did I end up with so much love???
Oh wait - the old me wouldn't have been able to answer that question, even if presented rhetorically - the revised version knows why and says it with the background noise of her own tooting horn "And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make" -
Finally I know I get what I give and according to Jeff, I should be proud of myself.
Okay to the piles, UGHHHHHHHH.
Thanks Jenny, Kate, Jennifer and Jeff for making my weekend feel beyond blessed - and thanks to Alli, Pam and Alyssa for providing me with the perspective I need to see my blessings so clearly.
Have a great day ya'll - love loud xo

This confession is long OVER DUE.

Good Morning Blog readers,
This gray morning I find myself sitting at my kitchen table with piles of shit spread out before me.
I am a pile maker. This goes in that pile, this one in that, bills here, medical bills here, junk mail, kids school papers, my school papers etc. etc.
My life is buried under piles of stuff that I cannot seem to deal with like a responsible adult.
I am admitting something major here - admitting you have the problem is after all the first and crucial step to addressing said issue and then changing....Great, another imperfect thing about myself that I must diligently strive to improve on - someone add that to the list of important self help shit to conquer - I think that list is in the "Must work on every day" pile.
Sheesh - that is my reality.
But anyways back to taking the first step.
Hi, my name is Deb and I am a disorganized pile maker that avoids paying her bills...
All true.
I make the piles, I like tidiness - I do.
I sort them, make sense of them, process their existence in my mind - then pile the piles one on top of the other and walk away.
Usually what happens - is I will go to turn on the TV or something and will not get an automatic picture, a blue screen or something appears and I go, "oh shit, did the cable get shut off?" and then I find the bill pile and realize I am over due on everything...
It's awful. I know, I acknowledge, I admit it.
Another great example - I just did that this morning with my water bill - opened it weeks ago got disgusted by the astronomical sewer charges, threw the bill down and walked away from it - not sure why I though about it this morning when I put in laundry, but thank God I did, shut off notice in the mail. Jesus.
And so, I sat down with the pile of crap that I have been adding to and subsequently avoiding for weeks, and began the torturous task of sort into mini-specific piles.
I came across a form from Wells Fargo to renew my free insurance they provide - yes FREE insurance - not much, but some....'Please return no later than September 5th to receive your FREE insurance for the next twelve months'
Date on the envelope - June 15th - today September 2nd.
Procrastination at it's worst, even when all I have to do is sign the damn thing and put it in a pre-paid envelope that they provide.
I am a mess....I know, trust me, I know.
I talked to Mary yesterday and she said, "Cameron and I got our cards today" - I like writing love notes, I make time for love notes, I even go to Hallmark peruse the aisle for just the right sentiment, and I buy stamps too....I enjoy that - I hate dealing with important shit that doesn't feel important to me, like paying the stupid electric bill.
Yes I like the light, but I do not like giving dominion power $239 every damn month, or in my case $478 every two months because last month I forgot to pay the bill....
I am awful, I know.... I need help, I know....
Just now I forced myself to stop blogging for about sixteen seconds, sign the insurance form and put in in the envelope, sigh - I need a Valium now.
Why does this bother me so? Why do I feel anxious at the prospect of being responsible in this way. I am so responsible elsewhere - here I am a train wreck and that is probably too kind a representation.
I am like those people on the hoarder shows that don't get the problem....
"Why are you annoyed with me Ms. Aqua Virginia customer service representative because I have not paid my bill and have ignored your notices?"
ugh, I know right?
So now that I have admitted that I am a pile ignore-er and an irresponsible bill paying adult, what do I do to change?
I have tried the day planner with the bill dates written in red and circled in hi-lighter and starred with gold foils etc. etc. - I ignore it, completely...I make it all pretty, I get all excited to be a big girl and then I avoid it like the plague.
Like the jury duty form on the table I am avoiding - I know it's there, it's looking right at me right now as I type, but I continue typing like nothing is demanding my attention, just too exhausted by the insurance form completion and envelope licking - I feel like one a day is all I can handle....
What the hell is wrong with me???
This has to be some deep seeded emotional damage from childhood that I have yet to uncover in the years of counseling that have stripped me bare of every other defense mechanism.
What could this be?
I really don't know, but I really have to figure it out - it's time for me to slay this unnamed - no faced demon and grow the hell up.
Now I feel bad about myself and I am sitting here with my face in my hands pouting.
I guess I should cut that shit out and go deal with that jury duty form - maybe confessing my evil to you all is the answer?
I feel your judgment and scorn and I hear you yelling "Get off the damn computer and go pay your bills already"
Fine, sigh, if you insist....

Part 2

Okay I am back....I know all of you are chomping at the bit - can't focus on your real lives because you are so curious about mine....NOT!!!
I am such a kidder.
I thought about part 1 of today's blog while I was in my English class - "have I already gone too far?"
Like I said earlier - I don't often mention the state of my marriage, why start now?
Well, I guess my answer is for the sake of being really REAL.
I have sat down at the computer previously, during times of real struggle, and unleashed emotional rants about my marriage that I have decided NOT to post, rather leaving them private to hang out in my draft box for all of eternity.
I have written like a mad woman, had all the emotion gush out of me like a water spicket open full blast and then thought, whoa - hmmmm - too much - too private - too real.
That is so unlike me....
I guess that when it comes to a public forum where my neighbors and friends, family and complete strangers read my stuff - airing on the side of privately cautious seems the right, appropriate way to go.
And then there are the kids to consider, but with confidence I can state that I would never say anything here that I couldn't say to them - it may be uncomfortable and I may or may not use so many swear words - but all in all, if I had to explain my blog thinking to them - I could.
Before I began to write earlier - after cleaning up the coffee spill and taking deep breaths with Kristin the coffee girl, I thought long and hard about what this blog really is to me?
Is it a place where I only want to go "so far" or is it a place where I want to represent myself and my thoughts as honestly as I can?
I always vote for going the way of the honesty as long as it does not threaten any one's livelihood, reputation or feelings.
And feelings are always at risk of being bruised so I approach every subject with respect, NEVER (that I can think of) blogging in a way that could be offensive to anyone. I hope I have always succeeded at that - respecting that we are all different and feel differently is of the utmost importance to me.
If I have ever failed and offended anyone, please message me and let me know....
At any rate back to my question - did I go too far in blog Part 1????
I am going to say, after much thought NO, I did not.
It is probably time for me to address this aspect of my life in some way, shape or form. And....If my husband reads this (he doesn't) I am confident I did not say anything hurtful or mean, just my tactful opinion of my life and my reality.
It is after all, my life too.
So....the subject that prompted me to start down this road to begin with was, DOUBLE STANDARDS.
I am back to that finally - wow I really went around the long way.
After all the thinking I did after Part 1, what I really question is if 'double standard' is the right label for the behavior I was pissed about?
I think so - but - I am on the fence. Maybe as I write it out I will clarify for myself just what in the hell I am talking about.
And, I have decided that the very specific details of my conversation with my husband that made the top of my head blow off, DO NOT need to be revealed here - that would be too much.
Here goes....
My husband and I had an interesting conversation last night, that basically, when boiled down, revealed what is okay for men, generally speaking, is NOT okay for women.
Or, at the very least, will earn a woman a label for the behavior, that is far uglier than that which a man would slap on another man's chest - in my mind a lot of men would pin a medal on a male lapel for the same deed that would get a woman labeled a bitch, a slut, a home-wrecker, a cougar, yada yada yada.
Hmmmmmmm. Yup I think my assessment is accurate.
Without specifics, my husband took issue with something I did, that was the absolute, unequivocal, beyond a reason of a doubt, RIGHT THING TO DO.
I handled myself just right.
BUT I got lamb basted by him for inviting the problem by being me.
Not, that the other person was out of line having full knowledge of the said situation and making said choice to do said thing which prompted my CORRECT reaction, but rather than this MALE was exempt somehow and I was in the wrong?
ugh I know that is hard to sort through without specifics, trust me, this was a clear cut case of WHAT????? "So you can be faced with the same situation, make the WRONG choice and reason it away with a mouthful of lame excuses, BUT when I am faced with it and make the RIGHT choice somehow I am still guilty because I MUST have asked for it?"
Oh fuck no....
Why does our society do that?
Men get away with all kinds of shit, that women get all kinds of shit for doing...
It really pisses me off, like more than I can tell you.
A penis does not make you innocent.
A vagina does not make you automatically guilty OR guilty of asking for "it" OR provoking "it".
I have steam coming out of my ears again....there goes my smooth hair....ugh
Thing is, yes my husband made my blood boil, but that is normal - Dan and I living through each day on the same continent is a miraculous act of God.
What really gets me, really really gets me, is just how prevalent this train of thought is....
I wouldn't do half the shit that my husband has, but if I did, I guarantee a lot of you reading would think of me differently.
And not 'differently' than you do of me now necessarily, but differently than you would if you held Dan and I up to each other comparatively.
Grrrr so many examples and so little time as I have to drive back to school for my night class - good thing it involves a tread mill.
A woman can be branded with a scarlet letter of judgment in her community for an indiscretion....A bad mother, a slut, but.... a man is just a dog.
Hugh Heffner marries women fifty years his junior and he is freaking icon along with his mansion of smut...
Oh puhlease if a woman his age did that she would be a crazy old desperate hag of a cougar!!!!
Shit drives me nutsssss.
Okay I really do have to go - I feel like I have not done this justice as there are so many societal examples I want to discuss.
This has always been an issue and continues to be one - men still make more money than women even with statistics showing female college graduates perform better and grade higher.
A woman climbing the ladder is a bitch, a guy doing the same, ambitious....
So much to say, so little time.
And no time to re-read, spell check and proof.
I will say as I go, that I won the fight last night, hands down.
And if that makes me a raging feminist to his male chauvinist, well then, that label I take willingly, slap it right on my boobs where everyone can see it....

Part 1

Good Morning,
Well sort of - I mean yes a great morning - I woke up didn't I? Makes it great right out the gate, so ..... Yay for that. I did however, just dump my ENTIRE large coffee all over the hallway floor as I ran between classes, trying to cram in breakfast and a quick blog.
It was actually pretty funny so, all in all - yes all, remains great.
ALLI PERSPECTIVE - thanks for that honey...
I wanted to discuss DOUBLE STANDARDS today - I have issues with this - major like make my head wanna explode issues.
GRRRRRRR they are applied to women FAR TOO OFTEN and with FAR TOO MUCH EASE which suggests an mindset of 'normalcy' and man does this piss me off.
My next class begins in 20 minutes - how far into this topic can I reach with so little time for clarity, clarification and justification?
Not too far but, whatever - it is where I am going.
If you leave me offended, welllllll - I don't know what to tell you.

These blogs are about my life, yes?
YES.
They are for all intents and purposes WIDE OPEN.
HOWEVER, I rarely if ever, speak about my husband or my marriage - my reasons for this vary.
The main one being - that relationship in my mind has very LITTLE to do with who I am on a daily basis.
YIKES you say? Yeah tell me about.....
The long and the short of it is this - It has been a seventeen year relationship plagued with the worst issues that you can imagine. I have been (in my opinion) on the receiving end of the shit MOST of the time.
Not ALL the time as I am a pain in the ass and have made my fair share of mistakes mind you - BUT....as I said IN MY OPINION - I have done the majority of the suffering/coping.
Three years ago, I left my husband and struck out on my own with absolutely nothing.
I had to give up everything to try to find a life for me with SOME real meaning - it happens a lot to women in this country, don't be fooled.
I fought my way through poverty and loneliness, I went to counseling and re-evaluated ME and my issues, began to do the required hard work from my childhood that would end result me as a healthy human being.
I gathered up my gumption and went to college - I kicked ass and took names across the board.
The entire time - I remained single on PURPOSE - I had to not fall into the easy answer of a sugar Daddy or the wrong kind of comfort.
I did it all alone.
I like being alone.
Because after two years of hard work - I really like me. My company is pretty damn entertaining if I do say so myself.
At any rate - long to short - after two years of watching my kids suffer horribly and really only getting them for like 10 waking hours a week - I decided to let my husband have chance #5 gazillion, and for the sake of the family try again - I thought maybe, with the new me intact and super healthy/happy, maybe just maybe I would tolerate our issues better and therefore fix them with less emotional struggle.
Welllllll.... takes two to go to marriage counseling and a year into the "reconciliation" there is still only one person willing to do the work.
Wanna guess who?
Yeah you guessed it, me.
Thing is - we have been living for a year as room mates not husband and wife - our "marriage" is LEGAL, but only binding (in my mind) on paper.
There were two conditions I required to move forward, as it stands there is a deficit of two met conditions - GO FIGURE.
I am OKAY.
I am HAPPY.
I am not DYING or rolling around on my kitchen floor writing in emotional pain (anymore - been there done it)
It sucks for me yeah, sucks for my kids to see their parents pass like two ships fighting for the territory of choppy waters.
My husbands favorite phrase "It is what it is"...
YUP.
There is the minimal background I need to share to get you to speed....
Now on to the double standard portion of the blog - but shit, noooooo, it's class time.
Twenty minutes you go too fast....
Consider this Part 1 - the cliff hanger....
Hahahaha how many of you will be on the edge of your seat now?
I will be back - promise :)