Mothers and Daughters

Yes, it is a little weird to be posting a blog at 6:53 on our super annivesary weekend, but my body once again will not let me sleep in, so here I am trying to be useful in my awakened state, but also still and cozy under a blanket.
We went to the best place to eat last night. It is called "The Pearl". It's in downtown Missoula just off of Main Street. It is expensive, but so good, and the atmosphere was romantic *sigh*. We bought a bottle of wine (I wish I could remember exactly what it was because it was also quite nice) and somewhere into my second glass I became (per usual) very talkative. Seriously, if I was a double agent being interregated all that they would have to give me is a couple glasses of wine and the secrets would start spilling out. Fortunately for me, Derrick knows all my secrets (I think...) and actually he was feeling very chatty too, so the conversation was fun.

Somewhere towards the end of our meal, we started talking about our kids. I was telling Derrick about Kloe.

Most of the time our little daughter doesn't live on this planet. She is in her own little Kloe land where she makes banana's be her babies (they ARE easy to cradle in ones arms) and every inantimate object she finds has a voice. She is a girl who feels and acts out every little emotion that passes though her mind, making most of our time together very dramatic. Even in her oblivion however, she is so intuned with MY feelings. When I'm upset, she pats my arm and says,"Ah mom, it's okay(encouraging smile), it will be okay momma." When she is in trouble, even if it is from me, she still wants me. She needs to feel things are still alright between us, because right now I am her safety. I understand her only because my mom has always been that for me.

I was an intense little kid, very naughty most of the time. Who was the one that cared enough to chase me around the house (while I was screaming and raising a ruckus so the neighbors would get a good show) to give the spanking I so badly needed? My mom. Who was the one who always made sure I went to school and to meetings, even through all of the fake stomachaches and other avoidant techniques I dreamed up? Mom. Who always came into my room after any punishment to explain that she loved me enough to fight for me to be a good person? My mom.

When I was about 16, my world became very dark. I changed completely for a couple of years, doing every bad thing my mom had fought to keep me from, breaking her heart on a daily basis. She was in the middle of her own dark time. She had just discovered the tip of the health problems that would plague her down to this day. She also was going through a very hard depression in the middle of raising her last two (very difficult) teenagers. She still fought for me. Every night I didn't come home, she was waiting for me and not once did she act like what I was doing was okay by her. I don't know how many nights she held me while I was in the middle of my inner turmoil. She had the right answers for me, but I couldn't hear her. That didn't make her stop reasoning with me. She once asked me where the Rachel she had raised was. I told her that girl was dead, and this was who was left. She said,"I don't believe that Rachel. You are right there. You will be back." I didn't believe her, but here I am. She has always fought for me. She has always been a light in my dark times, and she always has drawn out the best in me. She has always been the source of safety that I can cling to when I am afraid.

Someday Kloe might break my heart. I will fight for her, just like my mom fought for me, and I will fight for my mom too. That is what I love about my mother and daughter (and my sister, my neices, all the women in my life who share their hearts with me). The love we have for eachother is upbuilding. It is also ruthless and uncompromising when it comes to keeping eachother safe and whole. It makes us feel open to new possibilities and free to be who we really are, because we know no matter what, we are supported and loved. Thank goodness we have eachother.

Building a Snowman with Mom

While in Plains, Kloe and I built our first snowman (at least the first we built with our boots on) of the winter season. Then Mom, Kloe and I took a little walk. These are just a couple pics from our time with Mom.

And now my dear friends, we are going to be gone on a long weekend for our anniversary. This is my favorite weekend out of the whole year because the kid's grandparents generously watch them for us, and we are free to do as much or as little as we choose. I am excited! So, as of Friday, we will be free as the eagles, loose as the goose, dancing like the stars.... OR we might just be hiding out somewhere with our phones turned off *sigh*. Life is good.

Counting Blessings

Yesterday a lot of things worked out better than I had hoped. First of all, it turns out that our insurance company covers about 97% of all car fires SO we may not have to go into a new car with old unfinished carpayments attached. YEAH! I was so mad because I always pay extra on any payments to keep from going into an upsidedown loan and the absolute injustice of being forced into one because my car decided to go down in a blazing glory was very upsetting (for once, please spare me this growing pain!). On top of that, the insurance company ALSO pays half for a car rental, so I am no longer stranded and in a couple minutes Kloe and I are rolling out for Plains to see my Mom until tomorrow *happy sigh*.


Yesterday WAS hectic. We are trying to figure out what kind of car we want so we've been to every dealership in Missoula. I am not much help, cars are not really my deal. I am committed to not forcing Derrick into another purple, teal or pink car (I chose the colors of all of our last cars and poor Derrick got to feel all manly driving them), so I am think something more conservative (anything but white or red). On top of looking for cars, I was preparing a talk to give at meeting last night and I was nearly dying from nervousness. Fortunately I survived giving it last night, and everyone said I didn't look nervous at all. I was happy about that, because even if I AM nervous, as long as I look composed, success has been had.

Purple Bomb Destroyed

My car caught on fire today. Kathrine and I were driving to the Mustard Seed (my favorite restaurant, even though the service usually stinks) when I started smelling a strange hot smell. Now, I have experience with overheating cars because one of my first cars was a chrysler lazer that overheated regularly at pretty much every stop light. I know how to deal with your standard overheated car. I knew this was a far more menacing smell because I have also had the opportunity of being in a car and realizing that the motor is on fire (about 8 years ago between Missoula and Plains. I actually had to hitchhike the rest of the way home with a strange man, because that was before I owned a cell phone... but I digress) and the hot wire stench hit a familiar nerve. I swerved off the road and into a Sinclair station. In hindsight, I probably should not have parked my burning car in front of the propane tanks, but in desperate times sometimes the details get ignored. After opening the hood and realizing yes, it is on fire, I ran inside and excitably shouted,"My car is on fire!!!" to the attendants there. All I heard was quiet and crickets. So, I attempted shouting again, hoping to arouse more of a response,"MY CAR IS ON FIRE!!! DO YOU HAVE A FIRE EXTINGUISHER?!?!?!?"

They slowly leaned over and looked out the window,"Yep... her car is really on fire... well... um...."

"DO YOU HAVE A BUCKET!!!!!!ANYTHING!!!!"

"Uh..."

My eyelids were starting to twitch. The flames were leaping noticably higher and yet the man I was following to look for a bucket was in slow motion. He found the bucket, but apparantly their water pressure was on the sub-par side, because all that was coming out was a trickle. It took a good 60 seconds to get it about a quarter full. I pulled the still filling bucket from his hands and ran out the door, him following behind, I think mainly from the curiousity of seeing how mangled and burned I would get from my endeavors. I threw the miniscule amount of water on the leaping flames and was delighted to see it was pretty effective. To his credit, the attendant (who was a burly and capable looking fellow, the sort one might expect to rescue a damsel such as myself) went back inside to grab some more water. Apparantly he found a faucet in better working order, because it didn't take nearly as long and he came back with a FULL bucket this time. I sprinkled the water around the flames, getting a little closer and being even more effective because I no longer expected either the flames to leap back into my face OR the car to blow up. A mechanic meandered over from the neighboring car shop. His brilliant kick in the stomach went something like,"Yall should have let it burn! It would've been totalled but now this baby is going to need a LOT of tlc..."Which is to say,"This sucker is going to COST you". My brilliant manuvering to save my car had actually been the wrong move! And it was too wet to start on fire again *grr*... On the bright side, if I had let it burn, the propane tanks might have exploded, causing more expensive damage than a burnt up engine.

So, now the car has been towed away. Derrick took care of the details, and picked me up and now I am at home and I am wondering.... does anyone need a new car because I know where an AWESOME one is for cheap!

Jug of Love

Next week marks our 7th wedding anniversary. This time of year always makes me think of our 1st anniversary. It was the hard one. Really, the whole first year was the hardest of our married life.

My mental state was not the best from the start. I was on birth control pills which made me, let's say, emotionally unpredictable. It also made me gain a lot of weight, which I had never experienced before, and I was NOT enjoying it. All of a sudden I no longer felt like myself, either in body, mind or even in name.

Three months later we were pregnant. Just like that. Turns out it is VERY important to take the pill at the same time every day (and actually take them everyday. They aren't kidding about that). Add to that bad job situations for the both of us, and we found ourselves in a miserable inferno neither of us had expected in our wildest dreams when we said "I do". He felt like he had married a stranger, not the person he'd known for the last three years. I was so angry, so upset most of the time. I felt abandoned because he was staying away from me more and more. We made it through summer and into fall, just barely holding on. Then September hit and bad went to worse.

I got really sick with preeclampsia and the only way to save my life was to take our baby out three months early. We found ourselves in a NICU, both of us watching our son struggle for every breath, not knowing if we would lose him or not. We lived in a limbo for the next couple months, living part time at home, part time with Derrin at the hospital. That is where our lives found us that first anniversary.

We ate dinner at Applebee's December 11th , barely able to afford even that. But it was the first time we really talked about how things were now, how we would rather them be, and how we could change them. I knew we would be okay after that talk.

That night I brought out an old wine jar I'd been saving , and we decided that we would always put our loose change and any dollars we could spare in it, so that we would always be able to afford to make our anniversary special. Seven years later, the wine bottle may not be as essential for making sure we can go somewhere and do something, but it does serve as a reminder throughout the year that we do have a special relationship that deserves to be celebrated.

Growing Pains

When Derrick and I first got married, our big plan was to stay simple, save our pennies and eventually blow this place, go to Europe and just hike or ride bikes to whatever exotic country our hearts would lead us to. Three months later a certain test came back positive and our plans had to change. That is life. The only thing constant is change, and we've learned to roll with our fair share of punches.

Before I got married my instinct was to shy away from unpleasantness, to take the easy way out card. Being married and having kids seems to make that card not so available. Hard times have forced us to grow and I've found out something : Growing as a person, a lot of the time, hurts (thus the term "growing pains"). It hurts because sometimes it's caused by slamming doors you never thought would close, forcing you to find a new route. It hurts because it springs from bad things that happen to you for no reason at all, and it isn't fair, but you still have to summon the strength to get through it. It hurts because sometimes it comes out of bad choices we've made causing us draw up the strength to survive the consequences. It is hard, because sometimes it's caused by sticking to a situation, a place, a relationship even when things are rocky, uncomfortable or even just boring, and wading through, enduring and choosing to make it better right where you are. Sometimes it hurts because you've had to learn there are some situations you cannot fix and you have to let go.

Life doesn't seem to let us off the hook very easily. Even though I hate the middle part of growing, the painful part, I love the end result because I know more about me, and if I did well on the way through, I learn to respect and like myself more. Or if it is something Derrick and I are working through together, and we do well, we learn to respect and trust eachother and the relationship more. Even if it comes from a bad move on my part, as long as I can handle it with honesty and grace in the reprocusion stage, I can look back and see ultimately I made the decision to make good on a bad choice, and I know that takes strength. These are the moments in time we define or refine who we are and what we are going to stand for.

It is a cliche, but no matter where you go, there you are. As long as I'm okay inside, I can wait for Europe

And WHERE is the off Switch???

It is currently 4:15 in the morning and I've been up for awhile. Don't know what the problem is because I am SO FREAKING TIRED!!! Deep breaths, deep breaths. The last time I talked to Derrick (who is sleeping like an angel) about insomnia, he gave me a rundown of his idea of how to fix it (for free no less). The fix was that I needed to get involved in some heavy manual labor (like being a logger or working on a fishing boat in Alaska?) because if I was tired enough I would pass out at the end of everyday like he does. He is completely correct, in my opinion (however, it is 4:22 at night and I could be delusional). HE works outside everyday, whether it is freezing or boiling. I've watched him work, practically running (he is VERY efficient with his time), getting the job DONE. He goes from meeting to meeting with different business associates, so he has to deal with social stress that I mostly am spared from these days.

My day is tiring, but more mentally then anything. I'm chasing kids down, breaking up fights, cleaning up play-dough that is stuck to the counter chairs again, sweeping and mopping the same floors that were mopped yesterday because someone didn't want to take the time to remove their shoes, making breakfast, lunch, dinner and cleaning the kitchen as many times, getting groceries, paying bills, making beds, making kids clean their rooms (even though it would be easier to do it myself), feeling the general guilt that I should be returning a phone call to a friend (but I just don't have the mental energy to chat), taking the kids outside more to play,or reading more to them or not letting them watch so many cartoons, or that I should be (that I want to be) with my mom but I just can't because I need to be here managing my life too.... The problem with a mentally tiring life is that it wakes you up at 3 o'clock in the morning, all the emotions of the day racing through your veins like a freight train, leaving your heart racing before you even fully awake.

It will get better. So.... deep breaths, deep breaths...

Kitty Evolutions at Midnight

It is currently 12:03 am, and my body (or mind, not sure which one) hates me and is refusing to let me sleep, yet again. I was lodged in bed between Derrick and Gary when I realized Gary and I had been having a silent staredown for quite some time and it was getting a little ridiculous for me to just lay there and be angry about not sleeping. Gary was thrilled when I got up because apparantly his gazing eyes had been trying (quite successfully) to send his mind signals into my brain that he needed to go outside to do his business.

While I was laying there staring at my kitty, I started to think about how he is not half as irritating as he used to be. When we first got him (about 14 months ago) he loved to jump on the bed in the middle of the night, come right up to my face, and sneeze. He hardly ever does that anymore. So seldom does it happen that I have lost my gunshy flinch when I hear little kitty feet padding near my face. He also doesn't wander aimlessly at night, complaining loudly about his general unhappiness in life. Many nights spent in a cold garage have taught him to repress his emotions, just like the rest of us. Really he is pretty patient too, especially with the kids who haul him around all day like their hairy love child. Someday I am going to have to show Kloe the joy of dressing him in baby clothes. It was one of my favorite things to do as a kid, and it will be especially funny with Gary. He is like a grumpy but tolerant old man who always gets an "oh crap" look on his face when the kids come alookin for him. I can just imagine his anxiety when the little onsies and jammies with holes cut out for the tail come at him... heheh...

Well, I had hoped I'd beable to prattle on for awhile longer until sleep overtook me, but I'm afraid that my mind IS tired, just not willing to sleep. Hope for me, my friends... hope for sweet sweet sleep to knock my brains out!