Sit with the Frustration

frus·tra·tion
frəˈstrāSH(ə)n/
noun
  1. the feeling of being upset or annoyed, especially because of inability to change or achieve something.

As I go back over the notes I have written during my therapy sessions one thing is abundantly clear. My therapist keeps reinterating that I need to sit with the frustration I am feeling and just be. Another thing that remains abundantly clear is I STILL struggle with this. I guess I am rather like a two year old… I want what I want, when I want it. And this means NOW.images-2

Coming from a family where life and death hung in the balance by only the newest that science could offer; that lack of control and unsettledness continues to effect me in ways that I am still unpacking and just beginning to understand. When you have life-threatening illness at your doorstep for years it doesn’t stop banging on the door just because the patient is doing better. In my case I was not the very ill child, my sister was. But in those days parents tried to protect their other children from “the truth” believing that they shouldn’t have those burdens put on them at such a young age. However, in my case, the lack of true understanding and knowledge lead to envisioning things in my mind that were probably worse than any real facts would have been. And basically since that time I have spent my life trying to mitigate surprises and always planning ahead. Frankly, this just doesn’t appear to be compatable with sitting in the silence, sitting with the unknown or sitting with frustration very well. I want purpose and I want action…NOW DAMN IT!

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Making this “sitting with frustration” even worse is that I am suppose to wait until B makes his own discoveries about himself and his own truths instead of spoon feeding my perception of the truth to him. His process is suppose to be his own process but like a famous Hollywood director I have the script already written and filmed in my mind about how the scene is suppose to go. And because feelings are on the periphary for him which makes any sort of immediate action of self-discovery difficult; I am afraid that this film is going to be WAY OVER BUDGET both emotionally and financially.

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And so I sit. Tired and frustrated. Tired of sitting. Tired of waiting. Tired of thinking about all this sitting when suddenly it occurs to me that B is probably just as tired of waiting for me to just sit. What a gift it could be it I could just be comfortable being in this limbo and in doing so freeing him up to make his own discoveries on his own timetable instead of feeling the silent pressure of my discomfort in sitting having to sit with my frustration. This realization sends a shiver of freedom down my stiff spine as I contemplate what it would be like to let others set their own timetables instead of trying to get them run on mine. And just like a passenger waiting for a delayed train getting annoyed at the situation isn’t going to change a thing and it certainly isn’t going to get the train there any faster. So today..a breakthrough… I finally “get” that I must tolerate this frustration without disappointment or anger because in the end I am not in control of it anyway.

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Trying To Find Our New Roles In Life

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Throughout our lives we have roles we take on. Some have been forced upon us and some we take on willingly. Many of these roles we discard as time goes by, some we reinvent in a slightly different form, while some we seem to keep until the day we die. Somehow the latter seem to be the ones that we like the least and yet we retain them the longest.

This weekend was difficult for us. I think that when you are over 50 and going through a “maybe divorce” that one of the biggest issues is the discarding of roles and the discovery of new slots out of which you are now going to behave. After operating from one set of expectations for thirty years it is difficult to recognize and accept new patterns of doing things and unfamiliar ways of thinking. Years of acting one way are difficult to channel into something else and difficult for “the other” to accept.

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I know that in your 50’s it is suppose to be a time of gains. Money, richer relationships, second homes, etc. For me, it feels like a time of discarding stuff including those parts of myself I no longer need or wish to operate from. As I take out this “stuff” I am forced to really look at it and contemplate whether it is of value to me anymore. As a result, I am feeling lighter and freer than I ever have before. But that doesn’t mean it is easy especially for the other person involved. Honesty, in the form of being true to myself, has moved to the forefront of my life which at times hurts B. And while I dislike seeing B feeling uncomfortable and knowing that I have caused his discomfort; at this point in my life I am not sure that I care anymore as long as I know that the truth of who I am…who he is…will make things better in the long run. But what exactly is BETTER? What does that mean?

I guess I won’t know the definition of BETTER until we reach the end of whatever all this is. And I’m okay with that because either way whatever changes I have made I suspect will have led me to a more authentic me.

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And this relationship? It will either be or it won’t but in the end I will be all that I have envisioned and right now that is what feels important.

Autism 101

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AUTISM 101

Often times we have our best conversations in the car so tonight (2011) while Paul and I were out together I decided to broach the subject of autism and explain to him about the condition he has. Our conversation went like this:

Me: Hey, Paul have you ever heard the word autism?

Paul: I’m not sure but I think so.

I pause wondering if I should go on

Paul: So what is it?

Me (Describing Paul): Well, it is something that some people have. Sometimes a person with autism hears noises louder than other people. LIke they might hear the refrigerator sound very loud whereas most people can not really hear it. Or sometimes for someone with autism lights seem very bright. Sometimes people with autism find it hard to be touched or they are really ticklish. Do you want me to go on?

Paul: Okay.

Me: Sometimes people who have autism find it hard to look other people in the eyes when they are talking to them and sometimes it is very hard for them to sit still. For some people with autism the tags in their shirts make them itchy. Sometimes it is hard for them to talk to other people. But people with autism are usually very smart and often they see things in ways that other people don’t which makes them good artists or good with computers or good playing a musical instrument. Their brains just work a little differently than many people, but hey, everyone is different. Some people have brown hair, some people need a wheelchair to get around. Having autism is just like being a boy or being Korean or having blue or brown eyes. It is just a part of who a person is but not the whole person. Do you have any questions?

Paul: “Mom, do you have autism cause if you do, I still love you just the way you are!”

The SEX Talk…274 Days To Fix This

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One of the good things about Autism is that sometimes it qualifies you for services that will help your children navigate the world both now and in the future. Several years ago we had individuals trained in ABA therapy come into our home five days a week teaching our boys such things as social skills, safety awareness, and on one occasion we had THE SEX TALK with the therapist leading the conversation. These are just a few of the comments made during that discourse:

  1. If THAT is what it is suppose to be used for, why am I only finding out about it now?
  2. That’s a relief! I thought after you used it once it fell off!
  3. I hope Mom doesn’t take mine away like she did Max (we had just had the dog neutered)
  4. After this, I REALLY don’t want to know what they are going to tell me when I am in seventh grade.
  5. Oh geez I am only 11 years old and the thought of a man and woman having sex makes my penis want to throw up!
  6. I think that this will blow Paul’s mind when he hears about this. Not in a good way either.
  7. Is that what they mean by “an endless black hole?” (Yes,he said that with total sincerity)
  8. If sex feels good why does anyone stop doing it?
  9. I think I want to go into the condom business
  10. If it takes two people to make a baby, what do three people make? ( I have NO idea where that came from!)

Since that time the questions have evolved and become more sophisticated. Last week we graduated to sexual consent and I found a video that was probably the best description of it I have ever seen. Every young man should see this before he even considers having sex. Every young lady too. So here it is. And now I think I will go get a cup of tea.

http://www.theguardian.com/media/2015/oct/27/police-youtube-ad-campaign-sexual-consent-tea?CMP=share_btn_fb

Say YES To The Dress

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Tonight I am heading to a charity ball being held to raise money for my daughter’s diving team. At fifty-five years of age you would think I would be an old pro at this, but no, I am a virgin at this type of affair and unlike most Cinderellas…I have no fairy godmother to take care of things for me. As a result of this misfortune, for the past three days I have been schlepping from store to store in search of the perfect dress, shoes, and a fat suit to hold it all in. Needless to say it has been discouraging and a major blow to the old ego.

Dress one: Long, scarlet and slit oh-so-high-right-up-the-thigh. Youngest daughter almost throws up in her mouth. “Really mom,” she sighs. “One day I’ll have to go back to the pool and I don’t want you to be THE mom that everyone is still talking about.”

Dress two: short, blue. “Mom, your cellulite is showing.”

Dress three: Just sparkly enough to catch my daughter’s interest…until I put it on. “I think you will need a bigger fat suit,” she says.

Dress four: White, bra-less with cutouts in the back. “OMG, Mom. Do your boobs really drop that far when you get old?” (I swear I am never taking this kid shopping with me again!)

Dresses five through eleven:

“No.”

“No.”

“OH-No.”

“Gross.”

“Please mom don’t embarrass me in that.”

“Absolutely…no way.”

“Really, mom, what are you thinking?”

Dress twelve: Oh SHIT, I ripped it near the zipper when I tried to pull it down over my hips. Future reminder to self… ALWAYS take dress off by pulling over your head.

Dress thirteen: Black, long. Two sizes smaller than I normally wear.  My daughter gasps and instructs me to turn around.

“IT FITS!” she squeals.

“It  fits… like…everywhere?” I hesitantly ask trying to avoid my major most obvious issue by refusing to turn around to take a good look at my ample ass in the mirror.

“EVERYWHERE!” she exclaims.”You look really beautiful and you no longer look so embarrassing!” (Okay, maybe she can come shopping with me again someday)

“Really?” I say, running my hand over my hills and dales. I look HARD. Move here. Move there. Bend…nothing ripped, nothing broke, nothing howled.

“Honey, quick, hand me my phone,” I say with a real sense of urgency in my voice.

Just like that I dial the number to my instructor at the Pilates studio and sign up for another ten pack of lessons, as tears slide down my cheeks. My daughter thinks I am beautiful… maybe I should go purchase a lottery ticket!

And FYI Prince Charming … be forewarned…you might just be riding home all alone in that pumpkin because this fifty-five year-old Cinderella is going to the ball tonight and she’s looking damn good!

Shine Like The Sun…286 Days To Fix This

Today I want to shine like the sun

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My shadow lightly parting the clouds

Providing guidance and love to those who are experiencing darkness

Today I want to hang on the moon

Dipping dangerously towards a gravity-free way of life

My spirit untethered and with no restrictions

Today I want to dance without shame

To move and groove unencumbered by others expectations

Turning off my mind and letting my body move to its own rhythm

Today I want to say “FUCK YOU”

To anyone who tries to put me in my place

And tells me I can’t be happy, smart and beautiful in my own way

Today I want to ride the rapids of life

Challenging myself to steer my own boat

Away from the gullies and those that may try to pull me under

Today I want to lie naked in the sand

My body coming alive under the sweet whisper of the wind and spray of the sea

Remaining in the moment, unaware of those watching and who may disapprove

Today I want to be everything I am meant to be

A 100% true original

I want to dwell in the depths of my soul

I want to embrace my spirit

And be cognizant of all that I am and can be

Today I want to be ME.

“A lake that is noisy cannot reflect anything” – Robert Adams…290 Days TO Fix This

Years ago, when we were first married I bought our first picture for our house. Little did I realize at the time of purchase how much art mimicked life. Our life, in fact.

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The painting consists of two swans. One bird is serene and just floating along quietly. Obviously, if we apply this to real life, this swan is definitely B. The other swan is upright, flapping its wings, chest out of the water and making such a ruckus it looks like it is going to stroke out any minute. That would be me. And this is pretty much how we have lived our lives. Me… upset about social injustice, corrupt politicians and suck-worthy IEP meetings. Meanwhile, B stays in the background gliding around effortlessly while making noise and flapping his wings only when truly necessary. Think emergencies or boys being truly bad. And guess who people respected and listened to…yep B. I’ve discovered that no one likes a noisy bird.

Finally after many years of being upset and squawking over just about everything, I made a conscious decision to change. I decided I didn’t want to be the flapping, stroking-out swan anymore; instead I wanted to be the serene swan whose stillness reflects her inner beauty and confidence over wide swaths of the quiet lake. I wanted to be the swan that was listened to and whose wisdom was sought.

And there is another major reason for this change. Noise. I have discovered that noise creates chaos and chaos creates pain in numerous different forms. I now understand the beauty of living a life with much less noise/chaos leading to increased peace, harmony and understanding for all members of the pond to enjoy.

So now, when I look at the picture it serves as reminder of conscious change.  Further, when I glimpse the painting, I no longer believe myself to be the flappy-crappy swan. Now I see myself as the noble swan.  And now because of the stillness of the swan it allows the tranquil pond to reflect back the quiet confidence of this beautiful old bird as it glides silently by.

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Growing Pains…293 Days To Fix This

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B is away on business for the week. While away, he had dinner with an old college friend and he told K that we had been having marital problems. When he told me this I reacted in a way that surprised me…I was crushed. I wasn’t upset that B talked with her for we all need someone to talk to and to help us gain a different perspective. In addition, we all need someone to just listen when the tides of life are out so far it seems they will never surge to shore. And even though I understood his need to discuss recent events I was still disturbed.

What bothered me about this entire situation was something simple and honest. It is this… Just how long are we going to continue to define our relationship by the worst point in our lives together? How long are we going to continue to act as if our marriage is on terribly shaky ground?  How long will this rough patch be our main identifier of all the things we have accomplished/survived/created over the past 29 years?

This is not to say that we still don’t have important issues that we are trying to resolve. This does not mean that we don’t have some distance to travel to make our way back to one another. And this certainly doesn’t mean that there still isn’t a chance that things will not work out the way we have planned. But we are moving forward with honorable intentions and the belief that we can make this work. Because it has become apparent through therapy that being separated from one another would bring much greater agony and suffering to each of us then any of the pain we have endured in the past three months, let alone twenty-nine years.

Thinking about all this after B’s conversation got me contemplating our marriage and our family. We’ve had six children and have watched them grow up and some grow out of the house. And upon reflection, I realized that marriages are much like children reaching puberty and going through those horrible and painful growth spurts. In fact, much like teen-age growth pains, for the past year or two our relationship has hurt and ached. It had stagnated and was no longer thriving. Then finally new growth has occurred and we’ve growth taller together and flourished. This growth spurt has stung, ached and produced much anguish but now we are growing in the same direction at the same time and I want to preserve this sense of wonder and repair. I also want to act in a restorative manner and take a protective stance in regards to the many incredible things we had done to make this relationship not just survive but blossom.

One of these ways is acknowledging that we have come a long way in 29 years:

  • We put ourselves through college without debt
  • We have moved 15 times as B advanced in his career
  • We survived serious and hurtful family issues
  • We went through IVF four times in our attempt to become parents
  • We have three home-grown children and adopted three more
  • We’ve had three of our parents die
  • We have two boys with autism which has stretched our relationship almost to the breaking point, not because of them but because of all the extra expenditure of effort to get them what they deserve
  • I’ve had numerous surgeries, one kidney donation, and the intense pain of fibromyalgia
  • We have had issues that easily would have torn others apart
  • We have had job loss and loss of a potential business that we adored
  • We have excelled at what we have created in both work and play

And yet we have survived. Sometimes even thrived. And in that miracle I no longer want to feel concerned, scared or hurt by my worries about my marriage. I want to rejoice in it and the man whom has made it a mostly incredible, exciting and truly meaningful relationship for almost three decades.

So there. I’m done. And in trying to restore all that is good about this life that I share with a man who I love, I am thinking about changing the name of this blog. Maybe it will be myhusbandwantedadivorceovermydeadbody, or Are You Kidding Me? or maybe just ?.

Whatever I decide, I know the change will be for the positive…just like those growing pains that have improved my marriage and my life.

Transracial Adoption And Old Age

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Our three youngest are transracially adopted. This makes for good times and bad times especially when in concerns being out in public together.

When our children were young we saw a lot of what we now refer to as “ping-pong” eyes. As I was pushing the stroller someone would look at me, then down at the baby, then back at me and back down at the baby with a quizzical look on their face.

We often get the “are you their mother/is she your mother” type of questions. When we’ve had enough I sometimes reply, “No, I’m their Nanny.” Cracks my kids up every time.

Today Gracie and I were at Target when we noticed a young Asian girl about ten years of age staring at us…BLANTENTLY AND FOR A PROLONGED PERIOD OF TIME.

Gracie said, “I just want to smack people when they stare at me like that.”

” I know it is uncomfortable to be seen with a slightly overweight middle-aged white woman, I replied with a laugh. “Maybe she was just thinking you are a pretty girl,” I replied trying to lighten the mood and knowing full well that was not the case.

“No she was staring at me because I look different from you,” Gracie said.

“Well, you are probably right but since her family is Asian, and you’re Asian, maybe she hasn’t seen a combination like ours before. Cut her some slack. Or did you ever consider that maybe she was staring at me because I am a beautiful woman?” I said switching tactics.” You know when I was younger people did look at me once in a while.”

“Why, were you wearing funny clothes?” Gracie asked.

“Did your hair look weird?”

“Were you wearing hippie earrings?”

“Were you smoking cigarettes?”

“No, honey, its just that I wasn’t hard on the eyes,” I said with a smile.

To which Gracie replied, “so what happened?” (stab me with an icepick again my sweet child)

“Life, baby, just life”

“So are you telling me that it is all downhill for me? Is that what you are saying? That all I have to look forward to in life is growing up, growing old and getting (sorry mom) out of shape?” (yep, she did it again)

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“No baby. You can look forward to getting wiser, becoming stronger, being bolder, forging your own path, finding yourself, doing what makes you happy, learning to be true to yourself, falling in love, learning about what real love is, teaching your children, teaching your grandchildren, learning to look at the world and realizing it is not just black and white, practicing tolerance, having great sex with your partner, making a difference in this world is some small way, finding your spirit,practicing perseverance, learning to be content with what you have, following your dreams, laughing in the face of adversity, being more honest, and loving, loving and loving some more even when you are not sure you have it in you. And if you are lucky you will get to discover all of this and participate in some much that you hadn’t even considered. And you will appreciate and be grateful for this life that you have been given which so many people are denied. Hopefully, you will live your life to the best of your ability and when you will die secure in the knowledge that you made a difference. Yes, it’s all something you have to look forward to, everything except saggy boobs, you don’t have to look forward to that.”

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The Road Not Taken…335 Days To Fix This…29 Days Yell Free

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Robert Frost’s A Road Not Taken is a mystery to poets and critics alike. To author, David Orr, Frost’s poem is, ” a commentary on the self-deception we practice when constructing the story of our own lives.”

And I think that could be true.

For we all practice self-deception of one sort or another in order to stay with our significant other. We re-write the stories we tell ourselves about why we love, why we stay, who we love and the games they play in order to make the story comfortable to us. We all make up stories which allow us to go on with our lives. “He won’t hit me again”, “He’ll fall in love with me again”, “We can survive this,” are the words some say in attempt to change the storyline and make it “fit” into how we imagine the story of our lives should go.

In this vein, I suspect if you asked most men when they hear the words ” The Road Not Taken”  they would say it takes them back to the  women who have inhabited their lives. For it seems to me, that men are often following that Road Not Taken back to the past; wondering if Anna would have been a better lover, if he would have had more in common with Jane at this point in his life and if Jennifer would have been a better mother.  Often, it appears to me that men “regret” losing the woman on whose path they did not travel, while women “what if” or “if only” the road they chose to take. Men seem to let go of their culpability in the demise of a relationship while women, well we, “if only” ourselves to death. “If only I was thinner I could still be married to him.”

Me, I am trying to take a fresh approach on Frost. I think that what he meant was that we as people are altered with every decision we make when we step onto one road and leave one behind. As a result we need to make decisions that will bring us to our best and true self. And that whatever road we have taken we must make it the best road for us. One full of life. One full of hope. One of love, compassion and grace. We can’t turn around and take the “other” road but we can enjoy the one we are on. So today, I am going to take hard,strong, meaningful steps on my path. I will leave the tip-toeing around for another day.