Out Of the Mouths Of Babes

So it was 'Our Weekend' with H this weekend. Typically Our Weekend with H is time from when E picks him up after work on Friday until 6 pm on Sunday when his mother picks him up. Every other weekend, and Wednesday evenings. So it is Our Weekend, but Easter is his mother's holiday this year meaning she could pick him up at 6pm last evening and have him Easter Sunday morning, etc. This arrangement is according to his mother's 'Rules' which she has printed out and presented to E. This arrangement is in no way court ordered, it is just her desire which she has imposed on us and since we haven't had the chance to pursue making this court ordered, or not, we are stuck with it. So yes, we realize this is what it is, and a million families are dealing with the same situation. The story lies in how H feels about it. And how his mother leaves him no room to feel anything about it.

Yesterday was Saturday and when H found out his mother was picking him up he did not want to go. For about the past year or so we have been dealing with this. On Sunday and Wednesday evenings H wants to know "Why" he must go. He wants to know "why he can't spend the night". We explain about having to spend time with his mother also, about how we are sad when he leaves, but his mother will be sad if he doesn't, and how we will see him soon. H lives just a few blocks away from us. We can walk to him in about 5 minutes. But he is not allowed to come here or see us unless it is "Our Day". H could theoretically say on any given day which house he would like to be hanging out at, but this is not permitted. He is 7 yrs old. He is starting to want what he wants and express feelings, emotions, and desires about the path his own life takes. However, just blocks away, his days are mapped out for him and he gets no say. This is not just in regard to being able to spend time with us. According to H, this is also in regard to other things. Like having to spend time with another child in his neighborhood he really does not care for and is mean to him, but "My mommy says I need to deal with it and it will be okay." His mother is friends with this child's mother and wants to spend time with her regardless of what is going on in another room between the two boys.

Yesterday when getting ready for the 6pm pick-up from his mother H blurted out, probably for the 10th time in the past year: "I wish my mommy could just live here with us so I didn't have to leave and I could see both of you all the time, because I know if I don't go my mommy will be sad." When he ruminates on how it 'could be' if he could come over more often he is always plagued with his mother's feeling on that. I have heard him say "she needs me, she will miss me, she will be sad, I make her happy, my mommy will cry". He loves his mother, of course and so sweetly--however, what an emotional load for a child to carry! He did not get these ideas and worries from no where. I do not believe he worries about us that way. I don't want him to worry about any of the adults that way. That is not his responsibility. So he did not want to leave, but he felt a great responsibility to do so. It breaks my heart to see him struggle with such emotion at such a young age, especially when we live just blocks apart from each other.

Now, as a whole we have a blended family. I have 2 children with my ex-husband and E has H with his ex and they were never married. E & I do not have a child together. There are major differences between our two families separately and together. H has never seen his parents married and together, he was a baby when they split up. He has always lived this life of going back and forth. His desire and wish that we could all live together and make it work is an indication of the deep thread of 'family' in our genetic make-up. His mother is married to a man she has no children with and he has an older brother at his mother's who has a different father which he visits just as H visits with us. My children have seen me married to their father and have seen us live together and care for each other. They have also seen it become a struggle and fall apart between their father and I, yet we never set the children's feelings aside for our own sake. My children's father lives just blocks away from us in the other direction and while we have days set up that are 'mine and his' the childrent essentially get to choose which house they want to be at and when. The arrangement is not set in stone by any means. If they want to get off the bus at his house they do. If they want to spend the night with him or me no matter what day of the week it is, they do. Their father and I do not maintain animosity toward each other. We are the kids' parents, and that is the only role we have regarding each other anymore. We do consider each other friends. We communicate almost daily about the children, and the children are our primary focus. We do not want them to feel they have to choose between us, so they do not. What they want is what they get when it comes to their parents, unless there is a damn good reason why it cannot be so. So the children, all three of them, are used to completely different scenarios between their parents. For H to not understand why he cannot see his father whenever he wants is not wrong. Because honestly, he should be able to. We're right down the street!

I am a mother and a stepmother. There is minimal difference between the two. When any of the three children are hurting, I hurt. When any of the three children have desires I want to help them reach those desires. When any of the three children have worries I want to reassure them and make them go away.

H's mother has her own wishes and desires which she imposes upon her son and the rest of her son's family. That is the way she is, and with it breaking my heart we see the way I am. I know how she feels is very important to her, and I honestly do not mean her any disrespect as H's mother, but I do whole-heartedly wish she would consider her youngest son a little more. I came into H's life when he was 2 yrs old. He did not have the knowledge and problem-solving skills at that time to make decisions for himself. But he is not a baby any longer but a first-grader, and a very bright one at that. He no longer lives a few exits down the highway, but rather a few blocks down the street. We are in the same school boundaries. There is no reason to forcefully keep him from either home at any time. There is no reason to tell him he 'cannot' see his father and his stepfamily if he wants to. There is just no reason anymore.

So this Sunday afternoon, that is what is on my mind. H is on my mind. His desire to stay last night, and each Wednesday and Sunday night for the past 2 months consistently even though he started mentioning these things sporadically about a year ago. I, of course, have my own desire to see him and have him here at his other home, but I understand the situation and am a big girl and can deal with it. But to hear him ask, wonder, and worry over it for his part. For his wants, for his life, makes me think of him and feel bad for him. He feels he has tough choices when he should never feel that way regarding his parents. He feels he cannot see his parents when he wants to, and he should never have to feel that way. He is an amazing young man and I hope he develops a way to work this out within himself. I have told him repeatedly he can talk to his mom about how he feels, but he is afraid to. He is afraid to "make her sad". THAT is what is sad. No child should ever feel it is not safe to talk to their parents about their feelings.

Luckily we get to take him to my in-laws for Easter dinner this evening. We will get to see him again for a few hours. We had to ask permission, of course, but it was granted and we are grateful. I hope he had a good night last night and got to feeling better once he was home at his mother's. His grandpa is in town and was the one to pick him up and I hope that helped. I hate to know he worries and is sad. So I hope things get to feeling better for him real soon. I hope that one day soon he will not be worried to discuss things with his mom. Then again, for all I know he could have already and she told him "this is how it is, and you have to deal with it" like he says she has told him about other things. I just don't know.

Blended families are hard on everyone. We must remember the children are the star players in this senario and the most important aspect to focus on. If the parents choose not to care for each other that is fine, but they also chose to have a child together and that child is the only thing that matters. A child's feelings, wishes, and desires should be asked for and considered regarding any decision made around the child's life. Yes, children cannot always get what they want, and I am not saying they should, but the relationship between a child and their parent is indestructable and deeper than any other connection in the history of life-children should never be "kept" from a parent. Physically or emotionally.

Genetics Be Damned

The end of the week, and Good Friday. Easter on Sunday. I know it sounds hopeless but I almost forgot it was Good Friday altogether. Is that sad? Wrong? I don't even know...

Sometimes I think about starting a blog where noone knows it's me. I have a lot to say today, but worry about other people's feelings. I know I shouldn't (or should I?) but the fact is I do. However, being able to just unload everything would be magical. I guess I'm going to have to break out the good old-fashioned, hand-tooled leather with homemade papyrus journal and let loose. I like writing there better anyhow, but know I need to contribute here as well.

What a difference a week makes. Last Friday I was throwing discs at Banklick Park (Lincoln Ridge) down by my work with E and his buddy from work. The sun was shining, I was throwing pretty decent, it was warm and my heart was just as warm. The whole weekend was nice like that, with an ending on Sunday throwing at Mt. Airy Forest and buying a new disc at Nati Disc Golf. My mid-range Wolf was doing amazing things for me, sticking in the chains at 87 ft. I was pretty high on it all.

Work was a bit crazy this week sorting out the mess from the newest acquisition my company has embarked on, but work is not a huge stress for me. I thrive in my responsibilities and am lucky enough to enjoy the multi-tasking craziness immensely. I love the challenge, it's perfect for me.

This current Friday, however, finds me filled with anxiety and worry. I've shed some tears. I am an emotional soul and find it difficult to compartmentalize feelings and not be overwhelmed. It is like a wave washing over me, a tsunami which cannot be contained or controlled. Once I bring myself back up to level there is a nagging that stays with me. Threatening to hijack my emotions and hold me hostage. It sucks. I try to find the joy that is always there and grab hold of it and hang on, but this joy can elude me. Don its invisibility cloak and circle me, taunting. It sounds rather juvenile but it's quite true. The whole thing. Maybe by tomorrow I will feel better. Maybe in my sleep the fears and worries will slip away to cloak someone else's soul for awhile. Or just dissipate with the mist in general. All I know is even though I have battled these times since I was young, they are still just as sneaky, horrifying, debilitating, and elusive as ever. Why must the darkness be so much more dense than the light? So much more difficult to wade through. To shake off. I imagine a magical place, time, or pill that can change who I am inside. That can subdue my chemical make-up. Not gonna happen, I know. So I will trudge on through the muck, praying the next step will bring me to higher, brighter, firmer ground. Because that is exactly what will happen. One moment later it will be over and I will feel fine, as if nothing ever happened. I never know when this moment will happen, of course. My brain is not that kind to me. So I wait, and pray...or something akin to praying. Beg even sometimes, as silly as that sounds. Maybe it will be in an hour, maybe it will be in the morning, maybe it will be Tuesday or next Friday or next month (man, I hope it's sooner than that). I know not when, but I know it will happen and I hang on to that.

I guess what I should do now is try to make some plan for the weekend which does not involve worrying. If that is possible. Just thinking about making a plan that involves no worries or anxiety is making me worry. Go figure. Genetics be damned, I will have a moment of something this weekend. Genetics be damned.

Time to write? Of course not! Need to write? Desperately!

Every day I have this constant monologue going in my head. I need to write! I need to write this all down!! And then I come home....and there is obligation after obligation. By the time I could possibly sit and write, it is the only time E and I have to spend some time together. And as hard as I try to 'commit' time to writing, it just never happens. This is actually one of the biggest frustrations in my daily life. It sucks. Of course, time I could spend writing I do trade for kayaking, frisbee golf, spending time with my gardens...all things that bring me as much joy as writing does, as much soothe to my old battered soul. Things I could also be writing about. I feel caught in a never ending circle. I must write more. I must get the important things down, the things I want to remember, reflect on, even forget. Dispelling the negative and casting it away from me is just as important.

Right now I actually feel anxious because I am writing this and not cleaning my house. And I want to clean my house because tomorrow the weather will be nicer and I want to spend it out of doors. Again, my vicious mind---holding me captive. I realize not many people really know me. They do not know the mind that spins, churns...absorbing information, upchucking emotion and anxiety at every turn. Opining on everything that crosses my path. My interests are many. My struggles are many. My fears. My loves. It all goes round and round.

And yet, I am super simple. I sometimes feel I am the last person on earth who actually treats people the way I want to be treated. I see the big picture. Everyone and everything--problem is I feel everyone and everything too. Sensory overload in a crowd for sure.

And now here is the 'mommy' interruption....writing be damned. I must get softball gear together and deliver it to the daughter at daddy's house. Maybe I can get back into this today....just maybe...

Merry Christmas

Happy holidays to all! I am writing this from my new kindle fire. I am so impressed with its features thus far. I had a plain Nook before but it froze up one day & that was that. Terribly disappointing. I have to run for now, but now that I have this little tablet, I may just be able to blog the way I've always wanted.

Kayaking and Camping Part 2

So after scouting and rejecting one location due to stinging nettle (have you ever been hit with that stuff?  Awful!)  We continued downriver to a spot with a sandy knoll.  We were also just upriver from a bridge busy with cars, so we knew we were close to civilization.  We pulled over and first thing we located the firewood and started a fire.  The boyfriend handled a clothesline and started working on the wet gear while I put up the tent and started cooking.  The advantages of sand include lump-free sleeping, level tent placement, and soft sitting and walking.  The disadvantages include the fact I will have this river sand in my home, kayak, and gear for the rest of my days!  We pulled over early enough to leave us two solid hours of daylight, and that magical hour of twilight.  During that time we were able to dry out some things, but not all of our sleeping gear, so improvising became a priority before sleep could be established.  Our meal of choice this night was bean with bacon soup and hot dogs.  Easy to pack, easy to eat, one pot meal.  It tasted amazing after being on the river 5 hours.  After eating, we gathered more firewood and tried to figure out what we were going to sleep on. 

I decided we had no choice but to put the sleeping bag down as cushion, wet or not.  We had brought a blanket with waterproofing on one side and wool on the other, so I figured we could put that over the wet sleeping bag, waterproofing down.  I was then informed that blanket was damp also.  Well, we just didn’t have a choice.  I guess you could say “luckily” the boyfriend had wrapped the lantern in this packing material similar to bubble wrap, and he had used a lot more than he had needed to because he’s that kind of guy (thank god), and we discovered we could lay that down and be dry.  But sticky.  I’ll take dry and sticky over wet and icky any day, though.  So now we had that settled.  As night fell we stocked up for our last pile of wood, and started discussing the half-built walls of buildings just inland from us, and their proposed purpose.  So of course zombies had to come up.  Now it is hilarious to me, always, that as an adult I can handle most any situation.  Be calm, with it, helpful, etc.  But you put me on a strange riverbank in the dark and I suddenly have every horror movie I have ever seen a commercial for playing out in my mind.  Never fails.  But even more funny, I start getting to the boyfriend, who decides we need to go on a perimeter check.  I said Hell no, I was not going on a perimeter check.  I didn’t even want to be anywhere near those walls in the dark.  So like all good boyfriends in the world, he fashions me weapons out of a rain fly pole, tent stakes, and super duper tape.  And let me tell you, I could mess someone’s face up with this thing, no question.  I must admit, I love it when the boyfriend amuses and protects me all at the same time.  So he takes off with his own weapon and light and leaves me fireside.  He didn’t get far.  Turns out all around those walls was the infamous stinging nettle, and that was enough to convince him no one was going to be around there.  So we hung out around the fire, talked, and watched a couple fishermen get settled in across river from us for the night.  The only other oddity to the night was the skull I came across while finding the bathroom.  It scared the crap out of me at first, but I soon realized it was Styrofoam, and it entertained us for about two whole minutes.  After a few more drinks and sacred alone time to relax and revisit each other we decided we’d better get some sleep so as to be up with the dawn and be on the water.  I had a goal, anyway, of sitting in my kayak at dawn watching the sun arise above us to light our way.  This is a beautiful and peaceful place in my mind.  So we climb in the tent, get settled on our bubble wrap with our only dry blanket atop us, and talk ourselves into sleep.  With the windows of the tent slightly unzipped for vent, it was not a stuffy night and sleep crept along and took us under.  Sometime in the dark of the night I awoke on my left side, my right knee bent and wet.  As I climb out of the fog, gripping for the reasons of sound, I realize it is raining, and raining good.  Another moment, and I realize it is raining into the tent through the vented windows.  I zip them up, but unzip the door to see what I can see.  Out in front of me I see the kayaks covered top to bottom in sand splattered up from the hard rain, and the few things left on the line soaking once again due to the wet.  My first thought was that this rain was supposed to arrive late the next afternoon per the report I checked before we left, and my second thought was everything is going home soaked and heavy.  There was nothing else to do but lay back down and hope for more sleep, and the ending o the rain during that time.  I awoke again at dawn, and our tent was becoming more soggy, and the rain was not abating.  It was light now, and I was the only one up, and I started to wonder how we would get along if this rain continued.  Before long my cell phone rang (the magic of cell phones), and it was my grandmother extremely concerned for our safety.  She wanted to come up and find us and bring us home and out of this situation.  I assured her we were fine, the river looked fine, and I had intentions of waiting it out and would call her back in an hour or two with an update.  The boyfriend and I had an obligation later that afternoon and I was wondering if we were going to make it.  Finally, about 11 a.m., which was enough time I started to consider my grandmother’s offer, the rain subsided then stopped.  The sky lightening, and only the trees left to shake off the wet.  The river had not risen a noticeable amount so I figured we could try to make it as far as possible before the rain started again, because I had no idea if it was going to start again or not.  Now the boyfriend had not bothered to get up because of the rain, so I woke him now and we got to work packing up all the wet and sandy gear of our meager living arrangements.  Wet sand is a lot less fun than dry sand.  So we packed up and headed out.  We lucked out and the weather held for us, and even graced us with sunshine after a couple hours.  We discovered that wet gear is significantly heavier than dry, and pulling our kayaks through the dead stretches became an absolute chore rather than pleasure.  Incidentally, the stretches between where we camped and Loveland, OH are mostly long, straight, near dead waters.  It is hard to describe the ache and pull of the muscles in my shoulders, my biceps, my chest, my upper back.  I could feel each one as I rowed, standing out singularly, telling me they were there and they were tired.  A few times I daydreamed of pulling my paddle in, kicking my legs out atop my kayak and laying back for a rest of an hour or so.  Maybe with a good book.  Of course we couldn’t do that, since we were on a schedule to meet a time impossible to meet at this point, but I did absolutely die a few times and just float and wander, and think on why I didn’t expect rain in the middle of the night lasting to 11 a.m., which is so far past dawn…  We decide on a new goal destination.  Originally we were going back to Milford, our home port.  But we are tired, wet, and behind schedule so we decide to pull out at Lake Isabella, north of Milford just the southside of Loveland.  So to speak.  We called friends, who have a truck, and they are great friends and willing to come and save us from ourselves.  We finally float into more familiar territory and I realize we are heading into downtown Loveland, we approach a canoe livery with people on the bank and we ask how much longer to Isabella.  Three more miles, they say.  I’m thinking that is not bad, we can do that in a hour.  But the boyfriend is on the phone as we pass this livery, and it’s not long before he tells me to paddle back to the liver.  Yes, upstream against current, because our friends are closer to here than Isabella and we should just stop here.  Which isn’t here anymore, it’s there, because I am past it!  So I started hauling myself against the current, back-pedaling to the bank of the livery, and the burn in my arms is so intense I figure my muscles will just start snapping out of my skin at any moment.  Seriously.  As I pass him, I look at the boyfriend and say, “I don’t think I like you much, right now”.  He laughed.  I did not.  At any rate, we beached our heavy boats and weary bodies at the livery, got out, and laid on the gravel for a solid five minutes.  My arms were twizzler ropes, I swear.  Our friends arrived momentarily and delivered us safely home, and we went about the process off unloading a bit, retrieving the car, etc.  Then made our way to the obligation we were late for and had to commence ripping up an apartment full of carpet, and disposing of an entire kitchen full of countertops and cabinets.  Don’t ask me how our muscles didn’t fail us, how I carried all that carpeting and cabinets doe 4 flights of steps and chucked them into a dumpster, but I did.  We did.  We also each ate half of our own large pizzas, and then slept like babies.  Imagine that. 

While it was a long, and at times exasperating, experience, I would not trade it.  I am glad we did it.  We had a fun first day and night, the amazing greens of the foliage, the sparkle of the sun off the water, the solitary flight of a heron that escorted us part of the way, the regal turtles on their logs, the peace of birdsong and breeze….all worth everything I went through with burning muscle and dripping rain.  We plan to do it again, hopefully with better circumstances.  The evening we spent alone together on the riverbank, childless and obligation-free, has no weight in gold.  I recommend a trip like this to anyone with a love of nature and each other, for it was that love and respect that allowed us to see past the unsavory weather and fatigue and just enjoy where we were in that moment, and hold it close to us and embrace it.  Moments we will remember forever, good and bad.

Our First Kayak/Camp Trip (Part One)

So sometimes this is how you get it done.  Six a.m. and the house is quiet aside from my keyboard clicking.  I can actually think!  And no one knows I’m up yet.  I have been getting up this early automatically for a little bit now, and I am starting to get used to it.  The pre-dawn hours are so much nicer than I thought they could be.  The birds are very much alive and the air is still cool.  Yeah, I think I dig it.

So last weekend the boyfriend and I decided to do a two day kayak run down our Little Miami river.  The plan was leaving Saturday at 11, being on the water by 12, camping Saturday night, waking up at dawn on Sunday, having some breakfast, and paddling on to our Milford destination.  Dropping in up at Morrow, it should have been a good 4 or 5 hours each day.  Well…..  The best intentions, right?  The boyfriend got out of work a little later, our 12pm drop in time became 2pm, and the extra weight on the kayaks made still water our enemy.  The girl at the Morrow drop in said she believed it was 50 miles to Milford.  I believe it was more like 30, so we dropped in regardless and got on our way. 

The boyfriend was riding the Coleman Hooligan kayak, which has high walls and can pack in a lot of gear, so his kayak was the main gear kayak.  The Hooligan is heavy empty, so with the added 50 pounds or more of tent, food, fire grate for cooking, etc. I was glad I was not paddling that one.  I also had gear in my Potomac 100, and pulling in still water had my shoulders burning more quickly than I expected.  We have good little kayaks, though, and I know they did their best for us.  Especially the Hooligan, we pushed that boat to it’s limits I think, and it did not disappoint. 

Upon dropping in we realized quickly the river is a different atmosphere up north from our usual local run on a Sunday afternoon.  The first thing I noticed was how much wider the river was.  The green was greener, and the banks were clean and clear of garbage and debris.  I wonder why the river can be so clean up there, and yet not so much down here.  It can be so disappointing  to hop in the kayak, or stop to stretch your legs and you’re tripping over everyone else’s trash.  If there are any fishermen out there reading this, please pack out your garbage.  Your expended or snagged up line, your beer cans, your cigarette butts.  That’s all we ask.  I ask the same of the party canoers.  Anyway, the river was beautiful.  A little muddy because we’ve had rains lately, but the trees along the bank were picture perfect with their gnarled roots curling out to grab the water, and their branches leaning out and over as though to pat you on the back or take a sip.  The rapids were wide and bubbly, but nothing too heavy, which was a relief considering our weight.  I was worried we would bottom out at times because the Little Miami is a fairly shallow river, but I only scraped twice, and it may have been about the same for the boyfriend.  There were two memorable moments for me along our first leg.  The first was at our first stop, or rather once we put back in after our first stop.  We stopped at the entrance to some rapids where a tree branch was hanging straight into the water in the dead center of the drop into the rapid.  When we got back in I warned to watch the tree and stay left of it if possible.  It was the safe route, yes, but it was the safe route!  Lol  Anyhow, the boyfriend is the type to act first and think later, you know who you are, and his famous last words were: “No tree has sh** on me!”, and that should have been all I needed to know.  He decided to go to the right of the tree and do a little “duck and shimmy” around it.  I’m sure it was fun for about 3 seconds until the weight displaced from his little side-duck and over he went!  He did great getting the kayak upright (full of water and all our gear, mind you), and he hung on and rode it down.  I got sideways in front of him so he would hit me before anything else and I could guide him over to shore.  Now, this waterproof duffle we had did an amazing job, but it’s storm proof, not submerge proof, and once we hit land and investigated we realized everything was a bit damp.  Not soaked, thank god, but damp can be just as bad when you’re camping.  Needless to say, the decision to find camp was pushed up so fire could be built and clothesline made nearby.  Everyone was okay, and that was the main concern.  It took a good thirty minutes to drain the kayak, repack, and get back on the way. 

The second memorable moment came when we came upon an S-curve of rapids that were very cool.  We dropped in to the left, had to avoid a whirlpool action to the right and stay in line to continue through the rapids to the right.  At the end there was a strong whirlpool action that turned me around, but it was one of the neatest set of rapids I’ve been through along this river.  It’s amazing to me, the pull and rush of the river.  I have an intense respect and admiration, and if I could spend every weekend on the water, you would find me there.  It is the most peaceful place. 

Shortly after those rapids we staked out a place to camp, and decided on a spot just north of Kings Island.  Upside, we got to watch their closing fireworks from camp.  Downside, we heard a lot of traffic through the night.   Well, this is a long story, so I’ll post this as part one, and post part two in a bit.  Any comments, questions and advice on our experience is always welcome.  Next up: camping in the rain that was supposed to come later and the long leg home.

Here I am, I guess!

Hello, I am new to this but hoping to catch on fast.  It occured to me I am writing everyday in a notebook about my crazy life and honestly, some people are always asking for updates and what am I  up to, etc., and I realized I could write this all in a blog and kill a million birds with one stone.  Those who want to follow, can follow, and those with the same interests as me can just check in for the info on that.  I am a busy mom, but commitment I can handle. 

I am currently painting my kitchen, and writing about that with pics included could give some of you an idea if your kitchen is tasting rather bland.  I also just concluded a two day kayaking trip where plenty of drama happened, and there are probably kayakers out there who would get a kick out of my stories.  So I think I'll just start throwing it all out there and see where it goes.  I am also a mom, and all those moms out there know there is never a dull moment there.  So here is to hoping this works out for everyone and we all make some great friends, memories, and learn some stuff along the way! 

Happy reading!