It all started with a "Hi, Mrs. Hutt" as a kid ran by me while I was sitting and waiting for my daughters first track meet. I just knew. It wasn't a casual hi, it was a deliberate "HI" as the boy ran out onto the field to prepare for their race. The hair stood up on the back of my neck. Here we go!

Lately, my daughter like many others has been struggling with connecting with friends and making new ones coming out of the pandemic. The kids have been locked in their houses for 2 years with barely any social interactions or sports so it is understandable that the kids are shy. My daughter signed up for track and field because it was the only spring sport she liked. I give her a lot of credit for that because when she was little and we did the Girls On The Run program, she said she liked everything BUT the running! Like always we were excited and supported her choice to participate in a school sport. 

There is a boy on the track team who has taken interest in Kate and they wanted to go to a movie together. Kate isn't interested in boys at all at this point. She is my beautiful, loving, free spirited, field fairy with a heart bigger than her own self. Kate just wants to make friends and hang out. He has been connecting with her over the phone and because he plays on his PlayStation it has encouraged her to use ours which had been collecting dust. 

The mom instinct bells have been going off since that first "Hi". I can't explain it, but I just knew this boy was interested in her as a girlfriend. He started paying attention to her and over the last 2 weeks I have watched my daughter change. It hasn't been anything drastic, but she giggles more, she is brushing her hair, putting on a bit of makeup, you know the little things. She has had a little more spring in her step. 

The kids made a plan to go see a movie so as I was driving her to meet him I felt the need to have a conversation with her. I talked to her about what she could expect to happen and how to deal with different situations. I told her that I thought that the boy was thinking that this was a date, which she didn't think was the case of course. We covered "consent" and that no one is allowed to touch her body unless she says it is ok; that no means no; that she needs to be aware of her surroundings and if she is the only one left in a room with a boy to get out; to know you exits; we talked about a code word that she could use in a text or a phone call that would let me know that she is uncomfortable and I need to pick her up immediately. I hoped that I adequately covered enough of the big topics to get through this first movie. 

If it would have been with her other friend, who is a boy, I wouldn't have had these conversations but I didn't need to because I know him and his family and they spent alot of time at our house. However, I do not know this boy or his family so it made it a bit more nervewracking. 

Alzheimers. A fascinating and devastating disease. My mom's mom had Alzheimers and died by the age of 63. My mom started early, looking back probably in her 60's. She is 73 now and we just had to put her in a memory care facility. 

I haven't been in my family's life for probably 8 years for this that and the other reason. That is an entire story unto itself.

In February of 2020 before the lockdowns hit I went back to Chicago to see my girlfriends. I was at the airport waiting to board my flight when in a moment of weakness or kindness I decided to see if my parents wanted to see me. They said "Yes" so I dropped by for a short visit hoping for some sort of nugget of peace. You know like the miners in Montana when you go on a tourist expedition in seach for gold? 

I think I have written before how nice and calm the visit was. It just was. There wasn't any of the anger, resentment, hurt. There wasn't any feeling of wanting or needing to fight or make your point. Cordial. Like I was visiting my best friends parents or something but not mine. No overwhelming love or display of affection. It was nice. When I left and got to my freinds she was ready for hearing about a war or fight which was usual. I told her it was just "nothing". "Nice". 

Liz said, "Nice"? "Your family doesn't do nice. What does that mean"? I said, "It was just nice, and very strange". That day I couldn't put my finger on it. My mom's eyes were a bit cloudy, her hair grayer and I remember thinking some of her comments were strange. But then we had not seen in each other in at least 2 years so at the time I just chalked it up to distance and time. It was a very peaceful visit. I left thinking that if that was the last time I saw and/or spoke to my parents I was leaving it on a good note and I was content with that. That day was the beginning of the end. 

Those foggy eyes and grey hair, I had seen them before but couldn't place it at the time. I saw the same in my mom's mother, when I visited her in the nursing home with Alzheimers. It is a look. A lost look, a blankness that lives in the soul but can be seen through the windows of the body, the eyes. It is easy to miss or mistake for indifference or being "off your game". It was the Alzheimers. 

I had a normal day today. Most people would say, huh? What is the big deal about a normal day, that just sounds, well, normal. Yep. Normal. It is so abnormal for me to have a normal day that it sticks out like a neon sign. It's these moments that I am validated that our every day existence is just harder than it should be. and it's ok to be tired. It is this day that I afford my self some grace and breathe. They are few and far between but they are so good. I am so much more relaxed and happy. I feel like I can breathe and I'm not trying to always catch my breath, literally and figuratively.

Normal does not mean perfect. Normal means I still had to drag the kids out of their beds. It means I had to remind them to brush their teeth 15 times. They bickered at each other because the other one existed. The dog ran off in the neighborhood. I got attacked by 3 secadas and made a fool of myself flapping all over in the middle of the street to try and get it out of my hair. I was annoyed at my husband and wasn't talking to him this morning. There were so many little imperfect things, but that is how life is and should be. Life is in the space between the perfect and the bad. Sometimes running more in one direction than the other. But those moments are all normal. 

My life is not normal. I have it good and I am grateful. I am aware of my blessings. However, this life is hard. I worked selling cancer drugs for 5 years. I spent every week day in a cancer center talking to and seeing patients and staff. I saw people dying everyday. Does that mean that since I don't have cancer (bite your tongue and knock three times) that my life isn't hard? I had this conversation with many people fighting cancer. They all said absolutely not. Your life doesn't have to look like a train wreck and be in shambles in order to have it hard. My kids are hard. My family is hard. Working and supporting my kids is hard. Owning your own business is hard. Having our dog is hard. The cat, well not so much, he is easy and can stay.

It seems as if everyday I just keep saying the line from the movie Finding Nemo. Dory is trying to remember what she is doing and she keeps saying, "Just keep swimming". Everyday I just tread water until I can get to land and collapse. Repeat. I don't think many people have it easy nowadays. I feel like I know several people and things are hard for them also. The details are different but life is hard. I see your struggle. Just. Keep. Swimming. When you get a normal day, it feels really good. For so many reasons and in so many ways it is really good. I hope you all get yours soon. 

Carpe' Kindness,

Danielle

This moment was a defining moment. In his life. In my life. In his friends, girlfriends, sister, bosses, and his future children's lives. It was that big. It was all the lessons of life in a moment. It was all the things you hope to teach your kids, in one moment, kind of moment. 

We learned how to fight for what we think is right. Better, we learned how to feel when we felt so angry, upset, scared, disappointed, sad, and frustrated. We learned how to set boundaries and hold to them. We learned we can push through a really bad moment with kindness and respect. We learned that everyone makes mistakes and we will be ok. We learned how to end a fight with love and a hug and how very, very good that feels. We learned how far to go and when to stop. We loved. We took a breath and the entire course of the world shifted.

Today was going to be hard no matter what. After a year of being home, the first day back of the first full week was going to be hard for anyone. Going back in a pandemic and all the stress that comes with that alone is enough to give most adults an anxiety attack. So my son was stressed to say the least. Then add on a bad test score and poor planning for a project and we had a receipe for disaster. I thought I was prepared. Silly me, I was not. You are never prepared for one of those "talks" you have to have with your kids. They just happen and you have to roll with it and do your best. 

After school we all decompressed for a bit then I had to enforce homework time. The long and short of it, things esclated and my beautiful teenage son, raging full of anxiety and hormones grabbed my arm out of angst and frustration and fear of losing his electronics. Now I am upset and have to teach the lesson. The life lesson of NEVER putting a hand on someone. EVER. Boy, girl, man, woman, mom, dad, sister, dog. Never. There are consequences for something that serious and it was now or never. He wasn't trying to hurt me and was acting out of fear. He was just reacting. I had to hold my ground on the consequences. My legs were shaking. My stomach felt like it dropped on the floor. My brain was on fire. I was thinking, "hold your ground, teach him" while simultaneously thinking, "omg my baby is struggling, don't do it". I was trying to think faster than the speed of light to make the right decision. I looked in his eyes and he was trying not to cry. I told him it was ok, and to breathe. I took a breath. Probably the smallest amount of oxygen you could take in a breath but I did. Do I jump off the cliff or sit down? 

I decided to sit down (not literally). I went with my gut. I cried and told him that he needed to understand how big this moment was. It wasn't about reading or doing homework anymore. I let all of those details go. I just saw this moment of teaching him how to fight through these really intense feelings. To not bury them or avoid them. I said, "you can't go around it you have to go through it". And  I went with him. I cried. He cried. I told him to stop and feel his body and the anxiety and stress running through him. I told him to feel it and go outside and scream or punch a pillow or cry. To let it out in a healthy way is ok. As a matter of fact it is good. If you leave those feelings inside, they are like a disease. They will kill you from the inside out. I took inventory of how I felt. You know what is amazing? The moment I did, the anger, frustration, and fear went away. 

I didn't get lost in the details about 10 minutes of reading or pre-algebra. Somehow, by the grace of god, I made the choice to stop the fight, disarm myself and my feelings and to try and teach him the right way. Any other day, it could have gone the other way, meaning, I ending up taking away the thing he values the most, and him suffering the consequences of his actions. Somedays things have to go that way. It is ok. But, if I would have pushed him to the edge of his emotions, he may still have understood the levity but would probably have left an emotional mark. Or I could have given in, thereby passively tolerating that behavior and opening the door for him to treat someone else like that down the line.

Something happened. I changed. Then he changed. It all changed. We both did the work. We both did hard things. I saw a different path. So completely different from one I ever knew. He was Brave enough to follow. Brene Brown says that to be vulnerable you have to be brave, to show and deal with whatever emotions are at play. My son was the bravest boy ever. 

 They are a rite of passage for most ‘tweens’. Both my kids had a first round of braces when they were 8 and 9 years old. My daughter had the regular braces, but because my son has so many sensory challenges we went with the clear removeable retainers thinking it would be easier for him and less painful. Well it was less painful for him, but not for us. For a year we battled every night to get him to wear them. Then he would get sick or something and absolutely refuse to be able to wear them. Mind you, he only had to wear them at night, not during the day. I mean I get it, when you are sick and have a fever you don’t want a headache basically in your mouth. But you aren’t usually sick for one night. So he would miss 5 nights in a row before we could get him back in the ‘game’ and then the aligners would not fit. Then the process of going to the last set to re-establish a base line to get back to the new set began. Then we got so far behind we had to get an entire new set made to accommodate the gap we missed. Hence, the decision to glue those suckers in his mouth this time. No options. My kids knew we had this appointment and these were coming. I tried to prepare them. I tried to prepare myself. I knew it was going to be rough. As usual it was worse than I thought. Thank god for hope, it doesn’t let you see what is coming sometimes!

I wake my kids up we have an 8:30 a.m. appointment. I plan on giving them some tyelenol before to help with the pain. Then the resistance hit the ceiling. Neither kid was going to go peacefully or willingling. The reasoning began, quickly escalated to the usual positive reinforcement and failed. I now had 10 minutes to get both kids to brush their teeth, in the car and to the orthodontist. My son has a meltdown. It is not going to happen. He is crying and wrapped in a blanket “comfy” as he says and is not getting them. I try reasoning, bargaining, begging, ordering. Mandating, threatening (to take away privileges) all to no avail. At this point my daughter gives up and gets into the car. I have 2 minutes to get her to the Ortho, which thankfully is right around the corner.

I am planning on going to work after this because I have been working from home for the last 3 months while teaching my kids due to the pandemic. So I actually wake up and shower and straighten my hair. I used to have naturally curly hair but now it mostly frizzes and I look like I stuck my finger in a light socket. I didn’t look at the weather forecast to see that it is like 97% humidity which means I just wasted my time. My hair is going to grow like a chia pet on steroids the minute I walk out the door.

So I run my daughter in and the staff asks where is Alex. I say I have to go home and get him and I will be back. They say they may not have time if we are too late. Oh, you will have time by god, if I actually get him here you are going to see him. Period. I do not care, they signed on to take us and we paid, this is happening whether or not we are on schedule. So I leave my daughter and drive home to get my son. I have to physically pull him to the car kicking and screaming with no shoes and teeth not brushed. He is scared and lost. Floortime therapy is lost. I am lost and past my wit’s end. He is sitting on the couch screaming and crying and now I am crying and screaming that I can’t do this autism thing anymore. I tell him I don’t know how to help him, that I can’t do this. We have to grow up and honor commitments and be on time and push past all of this anxiety and pain and do hard things. Everyone has to do hard things.

I will never forget this moment. There are so many things I should have said and should have done better. I was actually standing outside of my body watching myself, my heart breaking for the woman standing there trying to help her child. The woman I was watching looked frazzled, tired, broken, sad, angry, frustrated and grappling for any string to hold herself together in order to not give up, shatter in pieces and curl up and cry herself. Somehow, someway by the grace of god, my complete crumbling of my heart and soul helps my son let me drag him off the couch and get him in the car. The clock is ticking. I drive back to the orthodontist and get out of the car. Alex locks the doors. He is crying in the front seat and won’t unlock the doors. So I am standing in the parking lot in front of a busy village shopping strip mall bustling with people excited to be able to get their specialty coffee again and get a haircut and actually sit on a piece of furniture outside, pounding on the glass window for Alex to open the car. My hair is 10 times the size it was when I left the house, I am profusely sweating and look crazy. I finally get the doors unlocked and have to crawl from the drivers’ side over him to push him out of the car. I throw his shoes out of the car and push the door open and tell him not to hit the car next to us and push him out. Well, my door hit the car next to us of course and I can see it is a white car as I am splayed over the front seat of the car and the console and half of the passenger side. I have to walk around the car and I just lose it and start crying when I see it is a brand new Mercedes GL SUV that probably costs $85,000. Dear lord, can’t I just have hit a pinto, yugo, old Toyota corolla? Nope. We go big or go home. The owner of the car gets out to come around and look at the damage. Fortunately there is a little mark but nothing that probably can’t be buffed off, but then again my eyes were full of tears and my hair was crazy so I wasn’t seeing right anyways.

Now you have to remember that we are in a freaking pandemic and the entire world is scared to death of coming into contact with any other human being and we are all supposed to be wearing masks and gloves. I am not wearing any of my “gear” yet, neither is Alex, or this woman who gets out of her car. I say I'm sorry he has autism and we are getting braces. For one moment in time, one infinitesimal moment the woman looks at me crying, struggling, wild hair and my son crying still in his seatbelt in the front seat and she puts her hands on my shoulders and says “It’s ok, go”, with nothing but kindness and wanting nothing in return. I blurt out my phone number for her to call me and I will pay for any damage and she says “go, it is ok”. That moment right there, that 1 second in a life can and does change the world. NEVER forget that. 1 simple kindness can change the world.

I get Alex up to the office and give him over to the staff and they are handing me papers to sign for 2 kids and asking for my payment and other things I am sure I didn’t hear. I left my purse, all my belongings, my phone, computer and said “I will be back in a minute” and went out into the hallway, probably filled with Covid and leaned against the wall, slid down to the floor and bawled my eyes out. I can’t do this. Everything is this hard. Everything shouldn’t be this hard. As hard it is for me I think, I can’t imagine how hard it is for Alex. Cue the heart breaking even more and the sad dramatic music.

My daughter is finished and comes out in the hall and says, “mom you are crying”, I say I know and I will be ok and be back inside in a minute. My daughter, the most beautiful soul inside and out had to do all of that by herself and push past her own anxiety alone. She is going to be me. She is going to be tougher than nails because she has to do really hard things the hard way. I wasn’t there to help her. She takes the brunt of it all. This beautiful field fairy of mine had to do it by herself. I am sad for her and amazed by her at the same time. I feel like I have failed her as her mom because I was taking care of Alex and not her, again. I am outsmarted, outnumbered, and just plain out. I finally pull myself together, sign everything, read nothing, pay and leave. They only took measurements today and pictures, no braces. WHAT? I have to do this again??????? Ohhhhh noooooo. The voice in my head says, “Danielle, just walk away and keep your mouth shut. Don’t speak, just move your body, go through the motions get the kids to the car and home safely. Don’t think, just put one foot in front of the other and drive. As we get home and the kids get out of the car I tell my son I love him to the moon and back and I am sorry for yelling and crying. I am embarrassed, humiliated, sad, broken, and the worst version of myself.

He says, “I know mama, I love you too”.

My heart shatters more which is impossible because there are just tiny pieces floating around in there that can never be put back together the same way again. I push it down and drive to work to try and help my husband save our company in the middle of a financial crisis and a 100 year pandemic. It is 9:00a.m. and I need some coffee. A lot of coffee, preferably a vat of coffee with some sanity stirred in.

One of my favorite sayings now is “Carpe’ Kairos”, seize the moment. The one moment with a stranger saved me today and I will remember her forever.

Carpe' kindness,

Danielle

Circles, they are everywhere in life. They are in our everyday moments, our families, friends, celebrations, losses and things.  You can't get away from them. Some are healing, Some are hurtful. Some represent the most powerful, influential, driving forces in your life. Some are just decorations.   The circles that are strongest can pull apart and break if there is no kindness, love and respect for the space between. 

The space between the boundaries of the circle is precious, it holds our lives and all it represents. If there is no kindness, love and respect for what is held within those bonds they can and probably will fail. Let me give you an example.

A wedding band is a circle. At its' basic level it is meant to mean that the two people joining in marriage make a circle, a bond that hopefully will be unbreakable. Yet people get divorced at a rate of approximately 50% give or take. Does more silver or gold make the wedding ring more impenetrable? Do more diamonds make the ring more durable?  Does a thicker ring make it more able to withstand the pressure in life?  The answers; No, no and sadly no. (Instead of metal, rings should be made of rubber to emulate life and the need to be flexible instead of a rigid matieral that frankly leaves little room for the space between)

Will a circle of friends always be together? Sometimes a bond with a friend can be stronger than family, but does it mean that it is protected from life and will remain whole? No and no is the answer.

With life comes death. Is the circle or bond broken then? There is no one answer for that either. Yes and no. Physically and intellectually yes, the circle is broken. Emotionally does it break? It depends on your outlook and beliefs. Do you believe in Guardian Angels? Then your answer would be No, the bond is not broken. 

What is the point of these exisitential questions? The answer to all of these questions lies in the Space Between. 

One of my friends almost always starts out our conversations with, "So here's the thing". I love it.  Straight to the point and it is always good.  There is always a smart point, maybe some tears and definetly a laugh. It makes me smile every time.

With that said, here's the thing. My long troubled relationship with my family is a a black hole in my soul.  I intellectually know that nothing will ever fill it up or close it up. I partially emotionally know this as well. The part of me that doesn't is the human part, the goodness in me, the hopeful part and the most painful part. 

For those of you who don't know, I thought I grew up in a loving home, stable middle class, functional family.  Not necessairly 'Leave it to Beaver' stuff but a good home with enough money for food, clothes and presents under the christmas tree every year.

I was a good kid.  I still am a good kid. As I am trying to move on my journey of recovery from Alcohol to fill the pain, I am also trying to learn and recover from my life as I thought it was.  My husband and I have been together for 17 years and married for 14. Now more than ever I say, 'So here's the thing', and he immediately goes "Uh-Oh".  The reason is, after 17 years and especially after the last 2 years in therapy and really trying to understand myself and solve problems, more stories than ever have popped up. His response is always, "I can't believe there are more stories, 17 years later you are still telling me things I have never heard".  Yes, 99% of them are not good, loving, kind stories.  Most are fucked up.  What is more screwed up is that I thought they were normal. 

Yesterday was a shitty day.  After another day of trying to do things with the kids to keep them off of their computers so their brain doesn't rot over a 2 week winter break, I broke. I can't take anymore.  I love my son but hate Autism and what it does.  It rips apart hearts piece by piece.  My heart has been shredded.  My hopes and dreams and basic life moments that are supposed to be happy have been tattered and lost. My daughter feels this as well.  It is not my son's fault. It is Autism. Yesterday my daughter said she wanted to kill herself because she feels like she doesn't belong in this world and becuase she just tries to love my son but he doesn't let her. There goes another shred of my heart and soul. My son is upset because he doesn't understand why he doesn't understand and what he is not doing. My daughter doesn't understand because we love her unconditionally and her own brother can't. She doesn't get why. She has the biggest heart of any human I have known.  She will never get back what she gives.  She will never get enough from him. She is broken, I can hear and see it. I can't change Autism.  I hate it. 

Later in the day I realized the date and that it was my parents' 50th wedding anniversary. That is a huge milestone. I don't speak to them anymore or have them or my brother in my life. That is an entire story in itself. The hole that leaves is impossible to fill.  For a hot minute I thought about texting them. I long for the idea of a mother and father and brother that should, would and could love me. They cannot and don't and won't. So I do not text.  I am broken. I don't want to be the sad one.  They should be sad not me. However, no matter what I do I will always be sad.  Until they die.  Then hope will finally be gone. That sounds awful but it is true. Hope is a curse and a blessing.  So last night after all of this I just wanted my wine.  I just wanted to forget about my fucking life for 2 hours.  I just wanted to not think about autism, adhd, my food allergies, migraines, fibromyalgia and my family.  I just need a fucking mental break and now I can't have one. Nothing can replace my wine time and the break it gave me.   All I could do was put on my pajamas at 4 O'clock and sit in the corner of my couch and not move. To not talk. To be silent and still.  Because if I moved, or went out I would drink. Nothing would stop me. Not the love of my husband and kids and my life or myself.  Nothing.  By the grace of god I just sat there quiet and still.  

I looked like a statue. I was holding myself so tight to contain the demons and sadness and pain. Inside I felt like a million shards of glass trying to cut the smallest opening in my barrier.  Then a tiny shard would make it through and the darkeness would start to drift out like a wisp of fog. That would be the end of this 64 day attempt at changing my life. One wisp. One thread of darkness is all it takes. So I just sit and look like I am quiet and still when I am really at war.  I am in a full battle with no armour, no sword and no light at the end of the tunnel. I am losing hope and I don't know that I care.  I can just sit and be still. I don't know what else to do.  I don't want to do anything else or be with anyone. I am just trying to fight and it is taking everything I have.

The saying "time heals all wounds" is bullshit.  I believe you just forget or build a scab. The wound is still there but not bleeding anymore.  It is still there and can be ripped open anytime one of the shards breaks free and is able to cut your wound open again. 

My son is at his first bar mitzvah tonight. There is another kid from his class there that is bullying him to put it nicley. The moment this kid walked into the synagogue he made a bee line for my son.  He is a shard of glass waitng to slice my son open. We are trying to teach my son what it has taken me almost 45 years to learn.

Walk away.  Walk away from that boy. He is nothing but trouble. You don't have to be mean, just walk away.  

I walked away from my family but left a good chunk of my soul behind.  I had to or I would have lost all of it.  I am trying to walk away from alcohol.  I wish I could walk away from autism. 

All I can do right now is hold still and wait for my son to get home so I know he is safe. 

Carpe' kindness.

Quiet & Still

Danielle

September 21, 2018

Oh where to begin? This year has been arguably been the worst year of my life, and that is saying alot considering my family situation and 2 kids with disabilities. It all started about a year ago this September. We decided to move our kids to a private school due to all the challenges we were having in public school.  They just weren't getting what they needed. Obviously for many reasons this was a huge decision.  My husband and I were both public school kids so the learning curve was like riding up the largest rollercoaster in the world.  As the car ascends the steep incline it makes the noise of click, click, click, click and with every click your stomach seizes the bile a little more until you are at the top and can't breathe.  Or so you think.  Then  all that anticipation, anxiety and bile literally soars out of your body as you drop off the other side of the coaster cliff only to get sucked back in as you gasp from fear, terror and excitement and it all lands back in your stomach like a block of concrete as you free fall at terrifying speeds. Your brain and heart and stomach are scanning, trying to find level ground but none is to be found and it all happens over and over and over. In an amusement park the ride eventually comes to a sudden halt and you finally let out air and try to get out but your legs are so shaky you wonder if you can stand let alone walk.  In our lives it seems like it is never our turn to get off the coaster, we just head back up the terrifying hill again and again to be dropped like we jumped out of a plane with no parachute full of terror and no hope of landing. 

With such a big change there are always unforseen changes and challenges that pop up.  More than I ever expected for me personally.

Going from a public school where I had a purpose and a community, to a private school where I had none of that was like landing face first  on the cement. This was no V-8 moment where I tap my forehead it was more like in Tom & Jerry where Tom gets a brick dropped on his head and it flattens him. I was at our public school almost everyday with some job to do.  I ran the library, I ran the book fair, I raised money for the PTA, I ran the read-a-thon.  I knew almost every kid in that school, what they read, how much they read and they knew me.  I had a social group of moms I saw on a routine basis not only for pick up and drop off but also at all the school events, we did outside lunches and played tennis together weekly.

When we moved to private school I lost all of that in an instant.  A snap of your fingers like a magician does; gone. I lost all my connections.  I lost all my sense of self.  I lost all of my purpose.  I lost my social life.  I lost my lunch friends.  I didn't get invited to things anymore; out of sight out of mind.  I lost my tennis friends and my exercise which I really enjoyed.  I lost all of me.  I did not see this coming.  I could have not anticipated this much loss.  Even when we finally got the letter that my son had Autism, I knew it was coming and wasn't surprised.  It still crushed me, but I was as prepared as I could be. 

Somehow, I don't know how, I lost someone I considered a best friend.  We had been through thick and thin.  Literally and figuratively. We had been together through family dissections.  Body dissections (enhancements and reductions). Kids sicknesses. Marital challenges. You name it, we went throught it for 6 years.  Then we moved down south. Just 45 minutes away equated to a lifetime away. Misunderstandings happened. A love lost that was maybe not meant to last.  Still, the hurt is there. The loss is there because no one can replace her.

I am very loyal and sensitive to my connections.  Probably because my family dropped me like I was a piece of garbage to just be taken to the dump. They dropped my kids and my husband like we were derelicts of society. Losing all my purpose and community that I had built for 5 years was like losing a piece of my heart and soul.  Core memories. Core parts of the puzzle like the outside straight pieces.  You can't finish the puzzle without them.  You can't just make new ones.  They can't be replaced. They are gone forever. 

Just 2 weeks, later we lost our dog Haley that we had rescued 13 years ago. All the damage from my family and moving my entire life trying to fit into a new group of friends and rebuilding time and time again made Haley my everything. My family couldn't take her away from me.  No one could take her away from me.  Haley loved me unconditionally as I loved her in the most beautiful perfect form.  

In fact one year when we were in our old house we got a blizzard.  My husband was working late.  I took the kids and Haley out with me to shovel the driveway.  My kids were little probably 3 & 5 years old. They could barely even walk in their snow boots and full body snowsuits.  They looked like little baby robots. The wind was howling and swirling up the snow like a snow cone machine whips the sugar in thin, fine strands that float in the air. All of a sudden Haley must have caught wind of something so she took off.  I was frozen.  Do I chase my dog? I don't have even one second to spare. We have woods behind our house that go on for miles. She would be lost in 12 inches of snow and deafaning wind.  But my kids! How can I just leave them? I can't, but they need so much help in the snow and getting inside to be safe and warm.  But Haley alone and lost. In a split second I run to my neighbor and barge in their house and scream I need help and to help put my kids in the house and they immmediately are ready to help.  

Being from the midwest I am never "dressed properly" for snow.  My kids were but me? No. I have a vest on and that is it and snow boots with leggings.  No gloves.  No hat.  When you come from Chicago, it has to be bad to break those out. Now that I know the kids are taken care of I run.  I run as fast as I can into the dark abyss of the woods screaming like I am on fire for Haley. Soon I am soaked to the bone from the blowing wet swirling snow.  My legs are burning from running and trudging through 12 inches of snow.  I keep screaming but no one can hear me.  The wind is blowing so hard and whistling like a freight train that my voice  barely made it a foot in front of me. All I could think was, "I will not stop.  I will find her. I will not lose her".  Forty-five minutes later with all my muscles burning and freezing at the same time and panic at the back of my throat ready to spew out like a volcano I see Haley and scream.  She is 15 feet away from me and I scream for her.  She can't or won't hear me.  With every last ounce of energy in my burned out legs I bolt for her and tackle her.  I am holding her down in the deep cold snow and start bawling, sobbing from happiness and exhaustion.  Haley is as happy as can be, tail wagging and licking my frostbitten face.  Her tongue stings becuse it is so hot compared to my frozen face but I don't care.  After a few minutes I catch my breath and we begin our 1 mile trek back home.  I walk into my kitchen from our garage and literally collapse on my floor.  Soaking, dripping wet like I just came out of a frozen pool gasping for air. My husband, who is home now,  sees that I am physically in not good shape and has to strip me of all of my wet frozen clothes. Haley comes over every few minutes and licks my face again. I think I had to lay there for at least 30 minutes before I could will myself to move.

When I lost Haley, I lost more than a chunk of my heart.  I lost part of my soul.  I lost me.  I lost my friend.  I lost my person I talked to everyday.  I lost a reason to come home during the day and take her for a walk and give her a bone.  I lost someone to talk to. I lost one of my children.

Meanwhile I went crazy from none of the above ironically.  I was going through the last stages of peri menopause at 44 but had yet to put it all together.  I was emotional, depressed, ragged, angry, having hot flashes, insomnia, acne and a whole host of other terrible side effects.  Typically women go through  this at 51 ish.  I am early and it is awful.  I go from dr to dr to try to figure it out and try to find things to help but sadly nothing does. I medicate with alcohol as I always have. I am lost now and sad and a physical mess and have no idea how to handle it.  No one I know is going through what I am going through. I am so alone. 

About 4 weeks later, 12 years into marriage, 15 being together and 1 day before my favorite day of the year, Halloween, my husband says he is done with me and wants to get separated and will move out by the end of the week.  My entire world crumbles like the World Trade Centers do on 9/11. 

My mind and body can't handle the pressure.  Symptoms of the past accelerate like a racecar screaming down a course, except there is no checkered flag to win.  My body falls apart.  Again I go to dr's to help.  I get diagnosed with Fibromyalgia. I have an incurable, mind numbing, excructiatingly painful auto immune disorder. 

With so many details in between, enough to fill a book alone, I fast forward to this past weekend.  My daughter and I went out to lunch and on the way home I went a different way because I have gotten 3 speeding tickets since they moved the speed camera to a different location. Kate asked why.  I said I went a different way because of the tickets and daddy was upset with me, in a kidding way of course. Then my daughter so unfortunately flippantly said, "Mommy, then why don't you get divorced? You aren't happy and you and daddy fight all the time".  Then I asked her, "How would you feel if we got divorced?.  She said, "Then you would be happy and I would know how my best friend feels". 

I think I got another speeding ticket and almost crashed my car.  Her objectivity and intuitveness rocked my world.  I was crushed that this was ok with her.  I was shocked that she basically just gave me permission to get divorced. I know that kids pick up on more than we know. They have heard alot of fighting.  They have seen alot of crying. She knows in her heart that I am not happy and she has lived it.  I am crushed.  I am like a window that has been broken into large shards of glass that are threatening to pierce her heart. This is not ok. I am not ok.  We are not ok. There is so much wrong with this that I can't even see straight.

Most of my kids friends parents are divorced. One in 2 marriages end in divorce. Let me say first I have no judgements either way. 

Is my daughter so flippant because it is her "norm"? Is that good?  Is that bad? I know many people who are better and happier divorced.  Was it good for them, yes.  I know others who have bad times and stay married.  Was that the right choice for them, yes.  At the same time, we are raising a generation of kids who basically have immediate gratification in just about every aspect of their lives.  They take a test and want to know their grade, it is posted on line that day. They want to watch a tv show, they can go to the internet and watch it right then.  

What about Adversity?  How do you match that with happiness? How do we teach kids who get most of what they want, when they want it, and their norm is if you are not happy, don't stay married get divorced.

How do we teach them to overcome challenges?  How do we teach them tolerance and kindness and forgiveness and patience and what true love is if they can always bail out?  How do we balance that with "staying to just stay for the kids and sacrificing happiness"?  How do we teach them to value themselves and that no matter what they deserve to be happy and to settle for nothing less at the same time?

My fucked up parents never fought and look where that got me!  Some parents fight and it is the norm and accepted.  Is there a right or wrong?  I don't think so, nothing is ubiquitous. I think it is good for kids to see parents argue, in a healthy way of course, if that is even possible, versus never seeing arguments. Our problem is that we have never thought to make it a priority for the kids  to see the make up part. They never get to see the resovle so I have to believe then seeing the arguing is hurtful when they see no resolution.  Hence, part of Kate's indifference.

This is what my daughter got me to think about from her statement this weekend.

I don't know the answer.  I know I don't want this.  I know what I can do better now.  I know now that I don't want her to be hurting because of me/us. I know now that this is not what I want for my family.

Now I need to figure out what else I know and how to get it, and to be happy as well as alot of other questions. I need to find the space between. I need to make a lot of therapy appointments.! 

Love Always,

Danielle

May 9, 2018

Oh the space between, sometimes you I hate you, you can't be found and that is ok and is what it is.  That is why we don't have world peace, so if you can't find the space between don't beat yourself up about it. I am where I am supposed to be....rock bottom, one last chance, back at All or nothing, especially the NOTHING part. I have a drinking problem and have to choose the Sober Life. I want to choose it, I need to choose it.  There will always be a reason to drink.  I drink when I am happy, sad, mad, calm, anxious, celebrating, mourning, processing, protecting or just being.  Now it has to Never be an option.  

I feel like this is the same as when I quit smoking when I was 26, living at home smoking 2 packs a cigarettes a day with parents who did the same.  I decided to quit and lived the mantra; "There will always be a reason so it is NEVER an option".  It has been 18 years and I don't miss it.  Yes it was hard.  Yes I had to relearn how to cope, how to be all those emotions without smoking.  Now I just need to do it with drinking.  It has to be All or Nothing.  The difference is now I am married with 2 kids with special needs and I am going through menopause at 44 long before my older friends and I was just diagnosed with Fibromyalgia and I have to fight and manage all that and choose the sober life.  I am not going to lie these 3 things are like 3 gigantic mountains to climb. My friend told me this morning, "Don't look up.  Look straight ahead and just take 1 step at a time and climb.  It is NOT going to be easy.  There will be no red carpet rolled out for you once you have climbed them all.  No one will be there with a party to celebrate. These are mountains you are supposed to climb right now in your life.  It is life and it is hard and there isn't a reward for that.  Except from yourself.  As you climb you will feel better.  You will be doing the right thing.  You will be able look down that mountain you climbed and say to yourself 'wow look what I did'. You will one day get over that mountain and breathe easier and that day will be a special moment with no pomp and circumstance.  It will just be.  Do not climb with an expectation of reward or acknowledgement because chances are they won't come.  Climb for you.  Climb for your focus in life which is your kids. Climb one step at a time and try to enjoy it because it is the journey called life".  Smart huh?  That was alot at 8:10 a.m.!

Instead of feeling like I am losing my best friend that has always been there for me to make me (or so I thought) feel better, and be depressed and sad and resentful and full of blame, I want to be grateful.

I want to be grateful that I have "The opportunity for the opportunity to change what I have always wanted to change."  If I can hold on to that on the dark, hard, anxiety filled days.  I can do it.  It will be easier. Not easy because life isn't fair and it is hard and it is scary and most days I dont' know what the hell I am doing. However it is something to say to myself over and over and over again.  "I have the opportunity for the opportunity to change". 

I have quit drinking before for days, weeks even a month.  But that little voice in your head creeps back in and says "just have 1".  I knew when I quit smoking that if I ever picked up 1 cigarette, the next day it would be 2 or 3 and then it would be a pack overnight right back where I was.  That same voice is there with alcohol.  I just need to remember, "There is always a reason and it is NEVER an option.  If I have one glass of wine, within a week I will be right back to where I was; at the bottom of the mountain. 

So here I am at day 5.  Scared shitless. Happy.  Not hungover. Opportunity is knocking it is time to go for a walk and climb!  

xoxo Danielle

March 14th, 2018

The Tooth Fairy.  My memories either real or imagined were happy ones about losing teeth and being excited for the tooth fairy.  Of course as a girl I dreamt that the tooth fairy had beautiful wings and had special fairy dust she would use like Tinkerbell to fly into my room and leave me money under my pillow. I don't ever remember being distressed or upset about losing teeth nor did my husband.  Once you have children you are able to re-live those beautiful childhood memories again through their eyes right?

Well, we have definitely lived the Tooth Fairy through my son's eyes and I have to say I would rather have my eyes burned out.  This is not one of those childhood things I want to do again.  Why?  First, because it is gross but that isn't nearly even the reason.  

When your child has sensory issues and especially mouthing challenges (meaning he processes the world through his mouth, hence eating mulch and playdoh) having a loose tooth has to be like having a normal person's body covered in blistered chicken pox and not being able to scratch any of them. 

The first tooth Alex lost he was like 4 years old I think.  We all did not sleep for a week straight.  He could not handle having it loose and would try wiggle it but then that would scare him and then he would cry.  It was pure torture for him.  It was so stressful for us becuase all we could do is try to explain what was happening but he couldn't understand.  We tried pain relief mouth gel and medicine to no avail.  We couldn't pull it out for him or dear god he would be even more traumatized!  So when it finally came out we were so relieved and exhaused.  Then of course we were so exhausted that we "forgot to call and let the tooth fairy know" and she forgot to come that night.  Oy! We had to put in a "distress call to the tooth fairy" for an emergency visit and probably because she felt guilty I think she doubled the reward.  The thought of going through this again was enough to rip my guts out but we had like 15 more teeth to go.  God give me strengh.  What is supposed to be a fun rite of passage is yet again another disaster for us.  Can't anything be easy?

Recentlly my son has lost 5 teeth in the last 6 weeks. I guess it is the 12 year old kid process.  There have been a few teeth that have only taken a few days and havent been debilitating.  A couple of them have.  I actually had to keep him home from school because he was in such sensory overload from this freaking tooth in his mouth that there was no point sending him to school.  He can't learn when his mouth feels like a million bee stings have stung him.  Frankly I'mn not sure I could have either and I have had 2 C-sections, 5 broken bones and 3 other surgeries.

We still have probably like 7 teeth to go! OMG!  So for all of you parents out there that have their teeth fall out and the magical freakin' tooth fairy comes with no lasting emotional or psychological damage here is what I have to say to you.  I'm envious.  I'm not even gonna lie.  Enjoy that simple pleasure because to some like us it is not that simple.  Once again I ground myself by reminding myself I have it easy.  Many, many others have it so much harder.  At least we have teeth to pull out and as long as they aren't mine we are ok :).

XO 

Danielle

Life is funny a lot.  Then it isn’t.  I always said I didn’t want to be a mid-forties mom driving a mini-van who doesn’t shower every day because well, it just seems too hard.  As with any good proverb that stands the test of time the one about “eating crow” still rings true.  Every damn time. 

So here I am in my mid forties, a little bit shlumpy, overweight and yes showering everyday is optional around here.   Fortunately I drove my mini-van into the ground so I have one of those SUV things pretending not to look like a mini-van.  But we all really know it is a mini van inside.

Equal to the mini van inside is my frankly, sad looking exterior I now have.  However I know that I am a HOT mama inside somewhere.  I once was HOT.  Ok, cute, pretty, a healthy weight maybe not necessarily HOT.  Still you get the point. 

Yesterday, I was so upset that I had become the mini van.  The stress of life had taken its toll on my body, mind and soul.  Comments people made to me went from, “ You look so beautiful today” to “I like your hair” or something small and impersonal like that. 

Whatever. I came home and after putting the kids to bed and yes, taking a shower snuggled down in my bed to read my book.  Of course the main character has long flowing hair, perfect boobs and ass, and is great in bed. I mean like amazing sex lives.  Like every novel I read and love by the way.  There are many beautiful people who look like that but the majority of us don’t. Also, who really has sex like that? 

I’m sorry,  if you are over 40 and have been married for a while and have had kids, you are NOT having sex like that.  No way.  You own granny panties.  You don’t want to admit it but you do.  How do I know this?  Because once a month when there is a crime scene in your pants because your period is so bad you want to rip out your ovaries by yourself with no anesthesia, you put on your granny panties to hold your gigantic pad that could serve as a life raft for some.  No thong can handle that, and your partner sees this. Which is a picture that doesn’t exactly lend it self to amazing sex against the wall in the shower. I know this is a broad statement but it rings true right?  Sex is part of your checklist .  There is no romance. There aren’t flowers and candles lit leading up to your room with Barry White whispering sweet nothings from the radio.  You and your husband end up locking the closet door at either 10am or 12 am either of which you are so bleary eyed because you have been up with the kids, so it doesn’t really matter.  Then you proceed to “drop your shorts” and quickly do it on the closet floor on top of shoes or a purse that was never put away correctly in the first place.  You try to do it fast before the kids find out where you are. Wham, bam thank-you ma’am. Check. done.  Yep not the mind-blowing, earth shattering sex I read about in my books. 

There needs to be something for the mini-van mom’s.  There has to be millions of us out there!  The average size of a woman is actually 14 not a size 2.  Nothing against the size 2 ladies!  You are just not the mini-van, you may be on the inside, but outside you are the freaking batmobile.  The thing is all us “over-40” ladies can relate.  Bat mobile or mini-van.  We all have serious stuff we are dealing with like health issues, kids struggling, aging parents and just trying to save our-selves.

Now I don’t necessarily want to be the Batmobile.  It seems like a lot of work to look that damn good.  I also don’t want to be the mini-van.  There it is again, do you see it coming.  That freaking “Space between”.  See what I mean, it is the answer to everything!.  So what am I going to do about it?  I have an idea but I need to think about it first. I think I'll go shower :)

Love 

D