And one more thing...

Oh yeah. This also happened... which I think was also good.

There was some bickering, and some moods. And when I was with X he was always moody. And when he'd be moody and quiet the next thing out of his mouth would be something to do with me. How he didn't like what I was wearing, how I looked... something.

So imagine, if you will.... me in a bathing suit. A BATHING SUIT - when somebody who is not so comfortable with their body image is at their most vulnerable -- and imagine J going all quiet.

So you know where I went in my brain, right?

It wasn't pretty. It was really hard. You know how brains are... you can tell them one thing, you can say that J is most certainly NOT X... but brains are still hard wired, conditioned, used to one way of being.

Oh. It was so hard.

BUT - I got through it. And another day, when it happened again, I just told myself: "Self. J is NOT X. Stop it. It's a mood. People have moods. You're in a horrible PMS mood, for crying out loud! You've been bickering. You've been talking. He loves you. It's not about you. Get through this. Deal with it." And I did.

But oh. It was hard.

Finally!

My Summer Vacation

So, the trip was lots of fun. It was J, his daughter, my kids, and their friend and his two teenage girls. I'm sure some of you remember, a few posts down, I wrote about how I had been experiencing a wee bit of PMS.... Remember? Yes. Well. If you don't, I'm reminding you now, because those three letters figure in quite a bit. Not hugely - but enough.

So anyhow.

We got up to Lake George fairly early and went straight to the lake. J had said: "It's so great, we bring down beer, soda, chips and hang out on the dock. We're at the lake all day! It's fun, relaxing, just so nice!" Sounds super, right? Food? Beer? Relaxation? Sun? One thing he didn't think of - and neither did I, for that matter: My kids are younger than his. I can't sit and relax. I can't read a book. I can't snooze. I have to be down there, in the lake, in the water, playing, encouraging, and watching. See that photo? Like that.

So that was one.

Then two. I'm fair skinned. I'm really fair skinned. I haven't been out in the sun for such long periods of time since I was a teenager and slathered my body in coconut oil trying to get that deep down Tropical Tan.... That was a lot of sun.

And then....

I thought I'd like to hang out at the lake all day. I really did. But when it came down to it... I started to get... a little.... bored. I wasn't relaxing. I wasn't reading. I was sitting and watching my kids frolic. Yes, yes, it was broken up with the odd jet ski ride... and yes, yes, what parent doesn't lovelovelove watching their children grow, learn and have fun.... but heck. There's only so many "Mom! Look at me! Over here! Look now! Watch me! Max splashed me! Nathan splashed me! Look at this great rock! Hold it for me!"s you can hear. To make for a relaxing vacation... if you know what I mean.

And if I sound like I'm being petty and complaining... maybe I am. And also, those three little letters were always there.... lurking in the background. PMS.

How can I describe PMS for those of you who haven't experienced it....? It's a total annoyance and discomfort with the world. It's a constant agitated and sort of itchy feeling. It's the feeling where you just want to go into your bed & pull the covers over your head. It's like what I said to J "Just take a rubber mallet, hit me over the head, and put me out of my misery." It's just a horrible unsettled feeling, totally on edge, and everything that happens is magnified. Little things become bigger. Huge. Gigantic. Massive.

So, I said to J - Hey - could we do something else? Break up the day? Not spend so much time at the Lake? You could have heard a pin drop. "This is how we've always done it."

Oh. Then it dawned on me... I was on their vacation. The one they've done the same way for about six years. They have their traditions. Their plans. Their schedule. That did not really sit well with my pmsed self. I felt excluded. I felt like a (welcomed) guest on somebody else's trip.

Then, if you don't mind, lets go back to the age of my kids and the age of theirs. 5 (me) and 13 (them). 7 (me) and 18 (them). Now, the kids all got along great, and it was so cool for me to watch my kids interacting with the "big" kids, and seeing the big kids being so kind and helpful with them. It was really super.

But.

They do things until late in the night. Fireworks, shopping, hanging out. My kids can do it, but they (me) will pay the price the next day. (no, they don't sleep late. They alwaysalwaysalways wake up the same time.) So when J said "Oh, lets go to the fireworks, it will be fun!" I snapped: "Sure, fun for everybody but what about tomorrow when they're cranky?! This is MY vacation to and I don't want to spend it with cranky kids!"

Can you hear it? Can you imagine it? You know, these aren't big things... but PMS blow them up. I snap. He's upset. I'm upset because then I don't know what to do. Let them stay up? Hang out? See what happens? Make the next day even worse? Am I being rational, or is this a decision being made with PMS brain?

Oy yoy, yoy. I know. You're tired already. This is long & lots of details... but that's kind of what it was like. Dealing with all these new things. Me coming on his family vacation. Him dealing with younger kids & somebody who doesn't like all they things they usually did... It was tough. It was a transition. Complicated by hormones.

Butcha know - (and here's the cool part! Aren't you glad you made it down this far??!) We did it. And we talked about it. And we bickered, and we talked about it. And by the end... you know... I felt so much more secure and solid about our relationship. About our families. Because this wasn't a throw-away vacation. We didn't just say "oh, lets just forget it - you do one thing, I'll do another..." We talked, listened, compromised... and it was good.

I'm an interviewin' machine!

Like a tuna sandwich, I'm on a roll! (Come on, you smiled a little, right?) I put an ad on craigslist and have eight interviews set up for part-time sitters. Not bad, eh? I woke up this morning to about seven more emails. Craigslist rules!

So, we'll see. I have three categories: 1) The High School student who probably won't be long term, but could be fun for the kids, less expensive & also somebody I could possibly use for a weekend/evening sitter; 2) The College Student - who also won't be long term... but since they're all ed majors could be good to help kids with homework; 3) The "regular sitter" who should be fine, but may want more money & I'm worried are just looking at this part-time job because they need something & will leave as soon as they get full time...

So, we'll see. I have two interviews tonight.

And I know - I still have to write about my vacation! And J and I are actually going away this weekend (that I actually keep forgetting about, actually. Do you think I say "actually" enough? Actually, I probably don't.)

I'll try to get to the post-vacation wrap up, but with the two interviews tonight... not so sure.

Just think of it as a plot. A ploy. A plan to get you to keep coming back to see if I've written about it yet. Yep. I know you so well....

Wait. Was I on vacation?

I thought I was. But then, I thought you're supposed to have that post vacation buzz for at least a week.... Right?

Yeah. So. My babysitter quit. Yesterday. We had worked out that she would continue part-time in September - when both kids are in school full time - & find another part-time job. She took another full time job. Which, I suppose I understand..... in the dark, dark recesses of my mind..... but shit. Shouldn't she have told me that she wasn't finding anything part time? Shouldn't she have given me some sort of clue?!

So now I'm looking for a new part time sitter. Wish me luck.

And oh. Big rainstorm today. Leak over Nathan's bed. On bed. On Nathan.

WTF.

Yes, There Is a Place Named ‘Real Good’ - New York Times

Yes, There Is a Place Named ‘Real Good’ - New York Times

Where I live!

Two Questions (or maybe three)

How I ask you, HOW is a parent supposed to know when to bring a child to the Dr? Or not?

Last night Max's ankle hurt him. It was a bit red & swollen. I gave him some Motrin, told him to go to sleep & let me know how it is in the morning. This morning. Still red, swollen & sore. He would pull away when I touched it. He said "Ouch!" when he walked. He said "ouch!" when he moved it.

Did I mention we're going on vacation tomorrow?

I knew it wasn't broken.... but how could I know what else it was? How else, I ask you!?!? So, I brought him to the Dr.

And why is it that 9 out of ten times I bring my kids to the Dr. I wind up feeling like an over-worried hypochondriac mom? WHY?!?

Dr. looks, touches, prods, moves.... Tells Max "Jump up and down." Max does. On his bad food. HOW WAS I TO KNOW?!?!?

He said it's just a bruise. Doesn't need ice. Doesn't need rest. Doesn't need Motrin. No nothing.

(Now you know it's not that I WANTED him to need those things... but I might, perhaps, have felt a bit more comfortable having him miss a day of camp & me be late to work if there was at least SOMETHING wrong!

Ugh.

And now another question (which may or may not play into the somewhat FRANTIC tone of this post...) (You noticed it too, huh?) WHY would I have to have PMS just when I"m leaving for vacation?! Why? Where is the justice?!? It's supposed to be a calm, relaxing, have fun time... not a "OMIGOD WHAT IS GOING ON HERE THERE AND EVERYWHERE AND EVERYTHING HAS TO BE EXACTLY IN IT'S RIGHT SPOT AND WHY IS THAT OVER THERE? AND WHY IS HE DOING THAT? AND WHAT DID SHE MEAN BY THAT? AND WHY CAN'T i SLEEP? AND WHY AM I SO SLEEPY?"

Ya know?

Just wondering, that's all.

Yeah. That's me.

Perhaps I should stop poking through the photos.... But yes, that's me. With the hood. We're in Fire Island. Must be about 1966 ish. My mom's right behind me with my Dad wearing the denim shirt. Can I believe they look so...... cool? I'm trying.

Big Game

I love this photo! It's probably from the early 1960s. It's my Dad (balding guy w/dark sunglasses on the right) my Grandfather (oldest man) and my two uncles.
Sooooooooo intent.

Inflammatory Breast Cancer

Ok. I posted this as my "shared items" plus I forwarded this link to ohhhh, just about everybody I know. But, on the off chance this catches one more person - I'm including the link it here.

I blog. And I read blogs. And I read this one by Whymommy where she is writing about her battle with Inflammatory Breast Cancer.

Now, I've often joked that I have the most examined breasts this side of the Rockies. I've had mammograms, ultrasounds, needle biopsies, core biopsies, lumps/cysts removed, milk ducts removed, a day of examination of a mysterious lump.... only to find out/realize it was a bruise from my falling asleep on a Lego. (!!!) But I had never ever ever heard of Inflammatory Breast Cancer before.

It's scary.

Here I was thinking that with all this examination I was safe from breast cancer. I had become complacent. Hey, I even have "Breast Specialist" - what could happen?. I'm not. This could. Especially since we don't know/never heard of any of the symptoms!

So, those three of you who read this blog. Or anybody who has not read the email I forwarded - read this. Educate yourself. Tell people.

Then go pop over & tell Whymommy she can do it. 'Cause she can.

Hooray!!

So guess what! Come on! Guess!!

Ahhh, you never will. I'll tell you.

I have one client that I see for purely psychotherapy. Most of my other clients are case management, supportive counseling, or case assistance. This client came into the office about a year ago, ostensibly to find out what sort of government programs he might qualify for, started talking and just did not stop. I soon realized that he did not want any of that sort of assistance, but really needed to talk.

I said to my co-worker (who does mostly psychotherapy, and who is very good) -- "but I don't do therapy!" To which she responded... "Ummm, you actually ARE. This is what it is."

So anyhow, he came in today & told me that in the past week he has made some significant changes. So, I asked him why he thought he was now able to do that... after thinking a bit he said "From coming here."

"FROM COMING HERE!" ME! FROM SEEING ME!!! You have absolutely no idea what that feels like. To have actually made that sort of impact. I mean, I'm used to doing concrete services (signing up for meals on wheels, government programs, getting home care, etc, etc) all of which *do* make an impact and have direct change on the quality of peoples' lives.... but this!! This!! Just through talking, listening, asking questions... for a YEAR! It has taken a YEAR to get this change.

When I talk to my co-worker about this client & complain that it's the same thing with him, each week... nothing changes... (she gives me "supervision" which is where you talk about cases...) she says "that's what therapy is. It takes a long time. Don't expect anything over night..."

You know, when I went back to school for my MSW it was with the idea of putting up a shingle. Of doing therapy. But my supervisor in my first field placement was not so encouraging. "You know" she would say "there are other kinds of social work." But, looking back now - that was one of the worst years of my life. Going back to grad school when Nathan was only 6 months, Max not yet two... I was not ready for it. It was too hard. Classes. Field work. (I had to go. Had been going part-time and the school told me I had to do my field work then, or lose my credits.) Two children under the age of two. Little/no help from my then husband. ("You don't have a "real" job, you're in school. I have the job. I have to get my sleep.") So my therapy skills might not have been as good as they could have.

Then, my second year field work... was a bit better - but I was still so distracted. Then X and I split 2nd semester & he moved out right before graduation. ("No, I can't stay until you're done with finals. It will always be something! I have to go now.")

So I never thought I could do it. And maybe I couldn't then. Maybe my brain was just too messed up with that horrible marriage - then the divorce... who knows.

But I did it, I did it! (Doing virtual happy dance!)

Wasting time at work? You're not alone: survey - Yahoo! News

Wasting time at work? You're not alone: survey - Yahoo! News

Who?!?! Me?!?!

Ahhh, lounge chairs...

My parents are going away this weekend and.... well... I'm having a party at their house!!! (Augh! I said it!)

I know. I feel like such a dork. I mean, I'm a "grown-up" (whatever that means) and here I am running out to my parents' suburban home, when they're away, with the express purpose to invite people over and eat and drink!

It's just that... you know.... the whole Manhattan living thing (I know, I live in Queens, but the concept still applies!), the whole small apartment thing.... vs a backyard! A BBQ!! Lounge chairs!!! (Ahhhh, the lounge chairs.....) Don't get me wrong, I love urban living (and right now it's not feeling so horribly urban with my pigeon and mouse infestation...) but summertime is BBQ time! (And lounge chair time....)

I love the summer.

I actually feel like a totally different person in the summer. Lighter. More relaxed. More carefree. In the winter I feel pinched. Tense. All wound up. I just don't like it. I love the heat, I love sitting in the sun.... I actually feel like I get energy from it. It's just my favoritefavoritefavorite time of year.

And I think my kids feel the same way. Although they sleep with their faces in front of a fan (with the AC on) and I sleep in my flannels. (I have airconditioning issues. Heat. I'm all about heat.)

In my before kids/single days, when I lived in Manhattan, I used to love the city on summer weekends, concerts, street fairs, outdoor brunches, and Central Park! I would come home at 4 am Friday and Saturday nights, and then the next day pick up a bottle of water, a bagel, and just flop in the Sheep Meadow in Central Park.... Eventually throughout the day all my friends would come & we'd converge there.

It was so great.

Now with the kids I've found all the cool water playgrounds (a great one by Tavern on the Green & you can even sneak in to use their bathroom!), the fun outdoor concerts (Dan Zanes!), and the boardwalk and baseball games...

Butcha know... for riding their bikes... it's mostly out in the 'burbs, for their swimming, it's mostly out in the 'burbs. J says he will take the kids bikes to his place & we can bike in Riverside Park. That's a good place to bike. I just can't get my mind around biking on these sidewalks...with all the driveways, and streets.... Taking off Max's training wheels & running with him?

You can take the girl out of the suburbs, but you can't take the suburbs out of the girl!

Baseball Weekend

Yep. This past weekend was just all, all, all about baseball. And, errr, well - that was ok. I like being outside. I like the summer. And I like being with happy people; so...

We went to the Yankees game on Saturday. (No. I don't know who won. Don't ask me!) J has season tickets but only four. We were five. The last time we went we stopped off at the Yankee Club for brunch before - so we just went into the game. Nobody noticed & we didn't really think about it. (Yes, ok - Nathan's 5 and a real person... but we just didn't think about it!) This time we went in through the front & were stopped. "Hey, there are five of you but four tickets!" We spoke to a manager who said "If he can fit under the turnstile it's ok."

So, we started to walk through when suddenly a security man grabbed Max's arm. I was on one side of the turnstile, he was on the other. The look on his face... (no, it wasn't quite like the one he so ably made for that photo...) I said "Let him go! You're scaring him!" The man wouldn't. ("Gotta keep my hands on this 7 year old! Who knows what he'll do!")

Finally we worked it out & the man let Max in. He snuffled a bit & seemed ok. A few minutes later: "Mom, what happens if somebody grabs me & tries to take me away?" I explained how you yell as loud as you can & kick, bite, punch & somebody will help. Or I'll be there. "Yes. But what if they don't? What if you're not?"

I just kept saying that they will, and I will -- because you know, I just couldn't go to that other place in my mind....

Rest of the game was fairly uneventful. Got cotton candy, which is always cool. Spent far too much on souvenirs... (I'm a sucker for buying my kids souvenirs. I just am.)

Then, came back to J's, visited R @ her job at Ben & Jerry's - got free icecream (whoo hoo!) and ate on J's stoop. Found out that the boy's dad was right down the street and played for a bit in Riverside Park. (I'm thinking that that is where I got all the bites I'm currently scratching..) (And yes, strange photo of me. I look oddly contorted or something...)

The next day we went to Brooklyn for a Cyclone's game. We went to Nathan's which wa very exciting for Nathan! He kept thanking us for coming to his restaurant... walked on the Boardwalk, went to the beach, and even the Aquarium! Then the game!

It was so cool! Seeing the Parachute jump in the background... being so close to the game, the boys getting to really see the players, have their glove/balls signed... I'm a believer!

Feel free, at any time, to ask me how much I HATE Blogger's photo formatting. These photos are nowhere near where I wanted to put them.

The weekend

Just some photos. Will post later.

Talk Therapy

So I talked to him yesterday. I went to my shrink in the morning, started crying again & was like WTF! What is going on!?

She said that sometimes therapy stirs up emotions. Stirs up things from the past that are unresolved. (Oh great. I have seven years of un-expressed, unresolved stuff!) And that sometimes this happens as the feelings come out. As they are triggered by stuff that happens now.

I asked when it would stop. She said once I get everything out. So I figured F this - I'm not spending more time feeling bad. So when I got to work I emailed J. We have to talk. Soon. I wanted any of the feelings I had. Anything that was bothering me OUT before the weekend. I wasn't going to go through another one. Plus, I mean, I was such a bitch on wheels...so aggravated by everything! I don't want to subject everybody to that. I want to have a good fun weekend!

So we talked. I told him about how alone I felt when he didn't come during the week (which was also triggered by the Wallerstein book I wrote about below. Needing somebody there, to validate you, to help you...) How I had come to really depend on those visits. Etc, etc, etc.

I felt silly telling him this. Feeling so needy. You know, we're kind of conditioned to feel like: "I can do this on my own! I'm a strong, independent woman!" And I felt like - I'm seeing him pretty much every weekend! What's the big deal! Deal with not seeing him during the week! Be strong! But ultimately I couldn't. Ultmately that weekly visit really just meant more than "seeing" him. It was the presence of caring, love, support, assistance, laughs, company.... and I needed it. I need it. And I have to stop feeling "selfish" for talking about things that I need. If I need it, then it's not silly.

And you know, I told him -- not with the purpose of having him come over - but just with the purpose of getting it out. But he said: "We will come over. I will come with R. And the dog. And we will come over."

I have no words.

What about The Kids?

When X & I first decided to split, one of the first things I did was talk to one of my professors at Social Work School. What was a good book for me to read, and what was good for the kids? I got them Dinosaurs Divorce (which I just saw, thanks to Amazon, that I ordered January 9, 2005. Strange having that noted for history.) and It's Not Your Fault, Koko Bear. They are really great books - and we actually still come back to them as the kids relate to them differently as they get older...

I got for myself "What About The Kids" by Judith Wallerstein. (Purchased February 14th, 2004! Valentine's Day!!!) and it was great. Well written, full of common sense, and backed up by empirical data! What more do you need!

So anyhow, fast forward to today (Three years 5 months later!!!) and I'm complaining to a friend about X, about his style of discipline, about how the kids will be with him for Five Whole Days! The friend reminds me about the book. Tells me to look at the chapter called "A New Kind of Mother." Says it will give me strength.

So I read it and Oh My Freaking G-D!!! If that chapter was not written Just For Me -- I don't know what was?!?!

She starts off by acknowledging that women really get the short end of the stick. How they take care of the home, the kids and work - and get no recognition for that. (And that's really for married couples too, methinks.)

She goes on to say how if you ask any mother where their children are at any given point in time - they will know. Just as you will know their schedule, appointments, friends, play dates. And, when you're married and your children are with your husband.. well.. you kind of feel that they're still with you. That you are in control of their care. What they eat. Where they go. What movies they see.... (I stuck that in 'cause X took them to see Monster House and Nathan is STILL talking about how scary it was!)

Plus, you can talk to your husband about the day. What they did. Who was happy/sad/good/bad...

But - and this is where my jaw dropped - she writes:

"

But after divorce that sense of knowing where your children are - and
feeling secure in that knowledge - is a lot harder to maintain. When
your children are off with your ex, the might as well be residing in a black
hole. Sometimes the children will tell you what they did, but not
always. You don't get a full report. Because you don't want to
coach them or nag them for details, you mostly won't know what they
did. You certainly can't ask them to tell you what your ex did with
his girlfriend. Their dad is not likely to tell you, either."

Ugh!! That's ME! That's me!!!

"

You feel bad because you can't give your child the full-time supervision and
protection that goes with your inner vision of what a mother should do.
Had the marriage stayed happy or at least functioning well enough, you would be
providing a different level of care and protection...... For a mother that
makes a world of difference. This loss of feeling in control can really
shake you up [Yes! Yes!] How can you be privy to this partial view
of your child's life"

So I'm just about yelling at the book at this point. "How do you know! Omigod! Yes!! That's so how I feel!"

But, it gets BETTER!!!

(And I'm sorry to be quoting this whole book - it's just so amazing to me that all this is so normal... and that I was obviously interviewed for a book and I don't even remember!!!)

She goes on to say: "A second big change is that you're often lonely or disoriented. One day the children are with you and you know who's in charge. Then suddenly they're gone. It's not easy to shift gears to being alone. It's all very well to say you now have time to see your lover or to write a new Broadway play [or to blog?]. But the truth is that when you're used to having the kids around and they leave, it gets lonely."

Ahhh, Judith, Judith... thank you.

Then she wrote the paragraph that when I thought of it this morning on the subway brought me to tears:

"The third change is perhaps the most difficult. Who fuels you as a mother? Who takes care of you when you need to take care of the children? Divorce leaves you stranded."

"

After divorce, when you put the children to bed after a
hectic day and they seem so calm and angelic in their sleep, no one is there to put his arm around you. No one says "You did great." Or, "Sit down, let me get you a drink." So where do you get the courage, energy, love and hopefulness to keep going? The answer is simple and undeniable. It comes from you and no one else. All of your mothering comes from inside you. [Ok. Crying again.] "

And ok - a bit more and then I'll stop -- before Judith tracks me down for copyright infringement. (I'm only doing this out of love Judith! Really!)

Here it comes.... "

Given these incredible challenges, is it any wonder
you sometimes lose your temper? Maybe you even scream or slap on
occasion. In your worst moments, maybe you even feel that you've not done well by your children, that you've failed them or hurt them.

Or is it any wonder that in the rising passion of a love affair you give your lover priority? Sometimes a love affair can trump everything in a person's world. If you temporarily neglect your children, forgive yourself. Despite these lapses you were there when they
needed you."

I feel like I can't really explain this feeling... how she hit the nail on the head absolutely with every feeling or thought I've gone through. When I first started dating I was like "kids? what kids" and felt so guilty. And ok, I don't slap - but I have been known to give a good shriek now and again... Just to have all this normalized. Just to have it written down. So precisely. Wow.

Then she ends with the best part, since I think that if my kids look the wrong way its because of the divorce & I hyper analyze everything they do or say (or what they DON'T do or say.. because that speaks volumes, dontcha know?) She says:

"Lighten up. You would have made mistakes if you
had married Prince Charming or if you had stayed married to Satan. You'll do alot that's right because you love your children. Try to forgive yourself for your real and imagined sins of commission and omission. Try to be a gentler person with yourself. Take pride in the enormity of your accomplishment. Whatever your aspirations, you can't do it all. Give yourself a break from your self-accusations."

Ahhhh..... long, deep sigh.

I'll think I'll read this to myself every night before I go to sleeep

Sorry - this is like the longest post EVER! And the formatting is all whacked....

NY1: Top Stories

NY1: Top Stories

Queens: "Appears to be the Hardest Hit of All the Boroughs."

Phew!

Just when I was starting to get worried... I had one last cry last night & today I've been fine. I decided yesterday to get it all out.

I spoke to J & with a long preface about how I know this isn't logical but this is how I feel (I know -- but I just need the preface. It's like my security preface!) that with what happened with my parents/sister & now his daughter moving in with him & not seeing him as much (although really seeing him quite a bit -- but remember, this is not about logic!) that I'm feeling a bit abandoned.

Then spoke to my mom. She basically felt that I presented them with a fait a'complit (no idea if spelled correctly!) & that's why they jumped all over me. Of course I mentioned that perhaps there might have been a better way to convey that... and she agreed. But then went on to say (again) how they have things to do, how it's difficult to commit to one night, how they're getting older & it's difficult for them during the week....

We debated the point a bit & I don't know if anything was really resolved -- except for her knowing how it really really upset me. I used the "abandoned word again."

Then I (tried to) have a good cry. But you ever notice when you want to go to the bathroom for, like more than 30 seconds your children need to pee more than anything in the world! I went into the bathroom, sat down with the tissue box, started to let 'er rip... and "MOM!! I HAVE TO PEE!! I HAVE TO! RIGHT NOW!!!"

But, I feel better, and I suppose that's what really counts.

Poor poor miserable me...

Today. Again. Miserable and teary. (Note: Started this yesterday. Haven't gotten through today yet!)

I don't think I've ever felt like this. Just sad. Teary and sad. No anxiety, just overwhelming sadness. In analyzing and hyper analyzing it ('cause that's what I do. It's how I like to spend my free time.) I think that J not being able to spend as much time with me because his daughter has moved in with him (as of last week), and the whole "discussion with my parents" (see previous post) -- has left me feeling abandoned. Abandoned and alone. I can't count on my family, and now I won't be seeing him as often...

As I read what I wrote I just feel so.... pathetic. So feeling sorry for myself. But - I can't help it.

I was alone for so long, now I have this great person in my life. I enjoy being with him, I enjoy being with his kids, my kids enjoy being with him, and totally love being with his kids -- plus having him here - in my house - on a normal day with the kids is just amazing. Not feeling that alone-ness. Having that all important extra pair of hands..

And it's where he has to be now. I know that. If he said he was coming over tomorrow I'd say "Don't you think you should stay home? Make sure R feels comfortable there? Gets settled?"

But isn't that just such a large part of life? Learning to negotiate your feelings/needs in relation to others?

It just... well... Ok. It sucks.

And my dad called yesterday to see how the kids' trip to Lake George w?X went. I gave the kids the phone & then hung up right after they're done. I'm angry at him (which could also be part of this feeling I'm feeling) and couldn't talk. Going to have to at some point, I know -- but I also know it will really open up a whole "thing" and not sure I really feel like going there...

It's interesting - my uncle who was with us for dinner Friday night is a psychoanalyst. When we (my parents and I) were arguing & J was attempting to get us to stop ("So, how about those Mets?") they started talking about the virtues of continuing an argument or just moving on. My Uncle said how he felt it's better to continue... and seeing how I'm feeling now ("seeing how I'm feeling now?" See, that's why you read this blog! For the great writing!!) I think he has a point. I'd probably feel much better & more settled if we did.

For now I'm going to have to get through today (it's Tuesday now - started this on Monday) and talk it all out w/my shrink tomorrow...

At least I'm getting my money's worth.

The Crying Game

I had a really great weekend. And I also spent a large part of it crying. NOt happy tears. I"m actually still trying to puzzle it out....



Friday night J and I met my parents to go for Friday night Shabbat services at this synogogue we like: B'nai Jeshururn. Actually my parents' synogogue on Long Island made a field trip to NYC to go to this synogogue. It gets huge crowds & Friday night there was standing room only! It's very different than "your parents' synogogue.." It's dynamic, spiritual, musical and meaningful. Not at all the old service that you feel so detatched from... So they all came & we met my sister & uncle after and all had dinner together.



Oh - some background here: I found out a few weeks ago that they changed the time of the local public school where Max and Nathan will be attending this Fall. Last year the day started at 8 and went until 2:40 -- now breakfast/early drop off is at 8:20 & school day starts @ 8:40 - ends at 3:00 pm. Since I will only have a babysitter part-time starting September (from 2-6) that means I'll be bringing the kids in & then going to work. Before my boss was ok 'cause I'd be in by 9:30 the latest. Now.... So I was pretty panicked about it.



I don't want to work flex time, because that will mean coming home at 7-7:30 each night. I can't live like that. So, I came up with the idea of working one weekend day a month to catch up - or one night late a week. I figured one week my parents, one week my sister and one week J. I mentioned it to my boss & I have to say she's really great. She said not to worry - that she knows how difficult it is - and that we'll work it out.



So, over dinner Friday I tell them my idea. The response came at me rapid fire: "Couldn't you ask your sitter to stay longer?" "We'll pay her to stay longer for you?" "Isn't it time you've found a local sitter?" "Well, your mother and I have the theater group, the synogogue board, this and that, and this and that..." "I have stuff to do!"



So, I did what any normal person would do - I shut down. I said ok. Forget it. Let's move on. I didn't think it was such a big deal - if I did I wouldn't have brought it up at a dinner out.

My Dad looks at me with this totally angry face (you know how parents get those!) and says "I get the feeling that you think we don't do enough for you. Don't help you out. And it upsets me." I'm still shut down and just say "ok. ok. Let's move on." I just couldn't even begin to discuss this. J was there. His daughter. My Uncle.
My sister: "You never want to discuss anything. Never want to talk about it. We want to help - but you never let us."

J whispers to me: "Forget it. R & I will come over. We will stay with the kids. Don't worry."

Yeah, I guess it was that being attacked feeling that kinda made me feel like you weren't really trying to help me -- but figure out a way that you didn't have to do it yourself.

So, we get through dinner. It was fun. We go out & J, his daughter & I walk up to his apartment. J goes "You know, I don't like to get involved.... but.... if those were my parents I'd tell them if they didn't want to help that they couldn't see the kids. It's not about just playing with them -- you need help, too."

And you know - any other time something like this has happened I haven't had a Witness. So I leave feeling all battered & bruised & that it's my fault. Who am I to ask them? They have their lives. They're busy. I'm so needy. Selfish. Inconsiderate.

But now here's J telling me that I'm asking them for a one night a month commitment - and it's no big deal - and they are the ones being selfish.

We get back to his place. I cry.

We go to the beach the next day. I cry.

Sunday I wake up in a bad mood. Later in the day. I cry.

I've been trying to analyze what exactly is so upsetting to me - the anger from my dad? The abandonded feeling? The attacked feeling?

And oh. Come home. Pigeon stuck on balcony.

I need a vacation.

But who would watch the kids?