Archive for the ‘Crying’ Category

Honestly, It’s been a rough few days.  And I’m going to vent, knowing my husband reads my blog, knowing this post will probably tick him off.  Honestly, if he comes out of this ticked off, but knowing me better, it’s worth it.  And it’s not that he’s not a wonderful husband.  I’m a very lucky girl.  I know that.  I just wish he got me some times.

Madison came down with Croup over the weekend.  By Saturday, she was just a monster.   A MONSTER.  Late Saturday morning, Kelly came downstairs with a fever.  I ended up calling off my outing with a friend.  Probably turned out for the best because I ended up feeling sick by late afternoon.  So did Scott.  That made four of us  – sick.

Ugh.  So the fun began.  Madison, between her screaming and yelling and demanding her mommy, and then the other kids…who also happened to start feeling bad (Dwight is the only one who has remained healthy so far), it has just been wearing me down.  And Scott.  He’s had to deal with crazy work stuff.  Really stressful stuff.  And this week, he’s sick too, but he has to go in.  There’s not a whole lot of choice.

So we’ve all been toughing it out.  He’s dealing with work, I’m dealing with trying to keep up with household duties and sick kids, and healthy active kids…

But tonight it just all got to me.  I really haven’t had a break and I’m trying so damn hard to be supportive of my husband’s crazy schedule.  Shoot, I even insisted he go to his boss’ stupid STUPID Superbowl party when I really wanted him to stay home and take care of me.  I broke dishes, cleaned up, cooked dinner, and took care of the sick kids while he was eating the SuperBowl food I was looking forward to (because food is one of the few things during pregnancy to look forward to since you are deprived of so many other pleasures in life – like sleep!)

Today was draining.  Even when I tried to take a nap, I ended up dealing with Kelly who refused to take a nap, (but apparently decided to try to knock down walls or reconstruct furniture or something crazy like that in her room), then the phone rang, then Patrick, who kept leaving his room when he was supposed to be in there reading (he stayed home sick).  I guess they thought when mom was laying down, it was their opportunity to see what they could get away with.  I eventually gave up on nap time but I was more upset about the fact that I never did get the energy to do the dishes, or the laundry.  I was planning on getting at least half-way caught up with the laundry today.

Tonight when it was time to head up for bed, it just all became overwhelming.  Bedtime checklist.  I need to check the locks, turn off the tv, turn on porch lights, turn off indoor lights, ignore the dishes, put Dwight’s meds in his bottle, fill up the vaporizor and humidifier, check on crying kelly, take my vitamins, try to brush my teeth, all while Madison is screaming for whatever the heck she’s screaming about, heck, forget about brushing my teeth, and I’ll just wear what I’m wearing now, I can’t take anymore of this!  Why the heck did she have to wake up anyway? Argh!  I feel like there is so much to remember and do each night just to “get ready for bed.”  I should have started getting ready an hour ago.

And then Scott sees I’m frustrated and I guess it pissed him off.  I don’t even remember what he asked me now, but it was just how he said it, like, “What is your problem?  Why are you so pissy?” 

My response? “Don’t talk to me.”  Because I did not need that.  I DID NOT NEED THAT.  And I did not want to say anything stupid.  I have 5 kids demanding something from me all day long, and half the night, please just understand I’m frustrated because I can’t even get the damn humidifier tank to open up so I can fill it up!  See, the goal was in sight.  Bed time.  I was ready to get in bed, but I still had this to do list in front of me.  All those little details that go unnoticed or undone if I don’t do it.  And then, I get to go to bed with a coughing baby who will no doubt wake me up every hour of the night.  But I’ll check on her and give her the drink she needs for her dry throat or return her pacifier when she’s lost it, whatever she needs, because she just doesn’t feel good.  And I’m her mom.  That’s what moms do.  They nurture and take care of others, even when they are exhausted. 

So I got more frustrated because when I tried to explain to him that I’m in a bad mood because I’m just tired and worn out and I’ve had the kids all day and it’s been rough, he made it about him.  He made a comment about how he’s just had it so easy.  When did I ever say that?  (Although, in all fairness, at least he can take DayQuil/NyQuil!)  Seriously though.  I just wanted him to hear what I was saying and understand.  I wanted a hug and some reassurance that it will get better soon.  Talk to any woman, and she’d get it.  I really REALLY needed a woman to talk to right then. 

Newsflash.  Scott is not a woman.  Not that it’s an excuse.  He could have remembered the overwhelming feeling he’s had before when I left him with all the kids and they wore him out.  Yes, I know this happens, because I come home all happy from my time off and he’s the one who’s pissy.  See?  I know this happens!  

So tonight, I just shut down.  Because I feel like when he doesn’t get me, or understand what is going on with me, he gets angry.  I wonder if it’s because he’s so good at fixing things.  If he sees a problem, he’s naturally good at figuring out a solution to the problem, and fast.  But not with me.  No, he’s got one complicated wife.  So when it comes to me, I guess I feel like he responds to me with impatience.  Maybe like his mom responded to him when he needed special attention or understanding.  No patience, no understanding.  She wasn’t a very loving mother towards him. 

So tonight, I was just too tired.  Too tired to explain anything.  Too emotionally drained to get into it with him.  Too exhausted to say, “I just need you to understand I’m tired and don’t feel good.  I’ve had the life sucked out of me today.  I am frustrated with life right now.  There is nothing left.”  No, I just did not have it in me to try to get him to understand.   

And honestly?  The truth is, when you add on the pregnancy and emotions that go with the pregnancy, and yeah, maybe he’s really got it hard.  I’ve been more emotional during this pregnancy, but I’m starting to feel this whole getting angry everytime I cry or am upset is a cop out.  (Honestly).  I’m starting to get bitter about it.  (Honestly). 

And even more Honestly, I feel very alone right now. 

In this pregnancy.

I feel alone. 

I can’t even type those words without crying.  I realized today that I don’t have any pregnant friends here.  In SC I got to go through my pregnancy with Suzy.  I had a friend who just had a baby a few months before me too.  I had a couple of women who were experiencing what I was, and another good friend who remembered very well what it was like for her, and celebrated my pregnancy with me.  Here, I have 2 girlfriends.  One who works the same hours as Scott and then goes home to get her kids to bed, and the other stays very busy during the day too.  We probably get together twice a month with these friends.  They are awesome people, but life and kids make it hard.  That, and we are just in different stages in our families.  I mean, we’re working on number 6, and they both are done at 2. 

Honestly, I’m also a bit jealous.  People around here have family close by too.  Family they get together with over weekends and holidays.  Neighbors who have parents nearby and brothers and sisters who fight over who gets to have Thanksgiving or Christmas at who’s house.  I don’t think I’ll ever know what that’s like. 

So feeling alone in this pregnancy, I kind of feel like, since this is the third time going through this, eh, just deal with it.  All these emotions and fears and everything else I’m dealing with?  I really should just get over it because I’ve been through it two other times, right?  I should know better and be better than that.  Screw hormones and what they do to a woman’s body.  Screw a mother’s love so deep that she fears for her child’s well-being before the child is even born.  Screw feeling out of control and not having one understanding ear open to those feelings.  Being pregnant is probably one of the most vulnerable periods I’ve ever been in.  I am so out of control. 

Yeah, I’m feeling sorry for myself, I know.  I should be thrilled that I get to have another baby.  I just hate going through this like this.  Somewhat scared and alone.  Not having someone who can relate to what I’m going through, to talk about cravings and disappointments about having to avoid certain foods or drinks.  I guess I just thought that since this was my last pregnancy, it was going to seem even more special.  I want it to be more special.  I will never get to do this again and that is kind of hard for me to come to terms with.  It would just be nice to have somebody go through this with me.   Really, why should the mom have to go through it alone?  Wouldn’t it be nice if the dad had to (or even willingly) gave up the same food and drinks the mom had to go through?  And hormones…Oh how I wish they could just experience the hormonal surges and emotions for 1 day.  And the physical changes.  You know, I’d definitely have to grab my camera for that one.  Honestly, That would just be awesome.

Honestly, my husband is a wonderful man and he does many things to spoil me.  Like Sunday night when he rubbed my feet.  I felt a little pampered then.  It’s just that I’m feeling very alone in this.  I feel like I need to be nurtured and cared for too, even on an emotional level, and I don’t have that here.  It takes a while to build relationships and friendships at a level where you can really open up to the other person.  My husband is the only person here (in Ohio) I feel like I can talk to about my most deep, intimate thoughts and concerns.  I guess I feel that the most important relationship here, the one between my husband and I, could use a little more nurturing and understanding.  I need to be nurtured and understood too.  I need to be able to feel safe enough to open up my heart and share my fears and concerns and disappointments, without feeling judged.  I’ve given up that need every time we’ve moved.  Every time I’ve had to say goodbye to friends and work on building new ones, just to leave again.  Honestly, that is a hard thing to do for someone like me.  I don’t make friends quickly.  I tend to choose my friends cautiously.  So for me, it takes time to build up that level of trust and intimacy. 

Honestly, I’m not there with anyone here.  Not yet.

Update: 9:15 a.m.  Scott sent me an email from work this morning, telling me he loved me and apologizing.  He’s always been good at apologizing.  Not me.  I think yesterday was just a rough day for both of us.  I’m glad yesterday is over.


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I really haven’t verbalized my ONE New Year’s resolution because really, it was between me and God…that and I was too afraid to say it out loud.

One night earlier this month I prayed to God and told Him that I was going to try to trust Him more – that I was going to try so hard to stop putting the sins of my earthly father on Him, making Him out to be the same Dad I grew up with.  Honestly, I tend to think that God is going to make bad things happen to me, that He is going to take away the good things I’ve been given, and He is going to replace them with heartache and sadness.  I just have not been able to comprehend in my warped little mind how to believe that He really truly loves me.

But deep down inside, I know that it’s all wrong, so I said that prayer.  This was my only New Year’s resolution – a prayer to God.  Simply put, I said I was going to trust Him more, completely, with every aspect of my life…but I knew it was going to take some time…and I’m trying.

But since then, God really hasn’t let me forget about my prayer.  Little circumstances seem to remind me that I need to remember who He is, and who He isn’t.  There is so much about Him I don’t understand.  And my trust in Him still isn’t where it should be. 

Ironically, in the Bible study I mentioned before,  The Patriarchs, by Beth Moore, she’s already pointed toward trusting the God of Abraham.  Listening to this woman talk, and digging into the study and getting the point she is trying to make, well…

It’s like somebody has pressed their hands on my back and then shoved me forward, never removing their hands, but continuing to move.  And it doesn’t matter how much I resist, I’m being plummetted forward against my will.

Way.  too.  fast.

I just want to slow down a little, take things at my own pace, because really, this is hard.  It’s hard for me to trust a God I simply do not understand with my life, and with the lives of those I love most.  In fact, during one of the devotions in the study last week, Beth Moore asks us to think of two difficult questions.   I couldn’t even write down the one question that came to mind.  It just hurt too much.

Yesterday was a bit rough.  I was just so emotional.  I haven’t been sleeping well anyway, but add that to the stress of trying to get kids ready and then.  *sigh*  And then Patrick telling me about his stupid dream.   It was just too much.  We were on our way to drop the kids off at a friend’s house so that Scott and I could go see Wicked when Patrick told me he had a dream the baby was born. 

“Really?”  I smiled.  How sweet. 

“Yeah, but there was something wrong with the baby .  You told us that it was a little bit mentally handicapped.” 

Did NOT need to hear that.  I lost it.  I chewed him out.  “Why would you tell me that?”  I yelled.

“He’s ELEVEN.”  Scott said.

It’s no coincidence that this happened during this time in our lives.  Scott is a bit more stressed with…well…with things that I’ll share later.  And I’ve had this fear that I’ve tried so hard to keep silent, that something is wrong with this baby.  So when Patrick brought up his dream, I freaked out on him.  He basically verbalized my fear, and I had to acknowledge that once again, I did not trust God. 

I was scared out of my mind, and I fell.  I screwed up.  I hurt, and I got hurt back.

I spent most of the day crying.  At least it seemed that way.  I held back the tears during Wicked, although a time or two I had to fight back hard to keep the tears from falling, and by that evening, I was just an emotional wreck.  I didn’t feel like Scott responded to my emotional outbursts the way I needed him to, and that just made it that much harder to get over it.  Sometimes I feel like he’s talking to me like I’m one of the guys, or one of his soldiers who just screwed up.  So we both wind up getting angry with each other.

Really, I just needed a night to be weak.  I feel like I’ve had to be strong all my life.  I’ve had to be strong for my sisters, my mom, my dad…and then getting married to an Army officer with a 4 year old son, there was no time for weakness.  I’ve never – NEVER felt like I could just fall to the ground in weakness while someone else picked me up.  Last night, I gave up.  I just couldn’t be that strong person anymore, and in the end, I told my husband so.  “I’m not like you.  I’m not a man, I’m not this strong warrior who stands up to fight every battle.  I’m a WOMAN.  I am going to have moments of weakness and I need you to fight for me when I am weak.  I need to be able to be weak for a moment, and to just be held and protected through it.” 

It’s true.  I am a woman.  Most of the time, I am strong, but sometimes I want to be rescued. I want to be the girl who’s father raced to the basketball court and scooped his daughter up in his arms when she got hurt.  I want to be that important – that I am noticed when I am hurting or scared.  I want to know I’m not going through it alone.  When I am weak, I want to be covered with the strength I don’t have, with grace and compassion.  And there will be days I will just want to be held, to lovingly be told truth, because I know there are times I need to hear it, so that I can rise up and be strong again. 

So last night Scott FINALLY got it, after a few harsh words, me resenting him for it, and then making myself completely vulnerable to him.  Sometimes I get so angry at Scott’s stepmom.  She tried so hard to screw him up the best she could.  Sometimes I feel like I’m torn down before he understands that I need to be built up (or picked up) – I tear myself down enough on my own.  especially when it comes to my failures as a mother!)  I really don’t need any help in that department!

But it’s a growing process, and I’m blessed to have a husband who tries and reaches out even after growing up in the kind of home he grew up in – one without compassion or love or understanding.  Honestly, I’m still amazed at what he’s overcome, that he is the kind of man he is.  He could have used his past as an excuse and made poor decisions for the rest of his life, but he fought against the odds and the lies and the hate, and he’s overcome.

So, my husband is the warrior, who is trying his best to understand and be there for me, his bride – a woman, who sometimes just needs to be carried in a moment of weakness.  And last night I had a very tearful talk with my Heavenly Father.  I asked Him to hold me too.  I’m still not quite there…not quite trusting Him.  But I’m trying, and I’m being pushed (even against my will).  So I know I’ll get there, one day.

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I was driving Dwight to a “Back To School Bash” this evening.  The entire day last two days seem to be throwing frustrating situations in our direction.  I guess by the time I started heading in the right direction for Dwight’s bash, I lost it. 

 “Mom.”  Kelly called from the back of the Expedition.

“Mom!”  She yelled louder

Again.  “Mom!?!”

But I couldn’t answer.

Finally after repeated attempts to get me to respond, I tried to open my mouth several times and say, “What?” but I couldn’t talk.  Nothing came out of my mouth.  Tears spilled from my eyes instead.  And I cried nearly the entire way to Dwight’s school.  Poor guy didn’t know what to do with me.  I told him I was okay, I was just feeling overwhelmed.  I left out the lonely and confused and exhausted part.  Sometimes I just feel that everybody wants a piece of me and I give and give and give and today my well has run dry.  Funny how quickly something like that happens.  All it took was for my little girl to call my name and I fell apart, which is so SO stupid because life isn’t all that bad.  I haven’t had a single tragedy strike, yet I’m weeping like a fool. 

 I can’t even get through this post without crying, which is funny because over the years I found that I numbed my emotions.  I just stopped crying.  I just held it in and wouldn’t allow myself to cry.  In the last year, God has been working on me in this area in my life.  I’m starting to feel like it is okay to cry and that sometimes, I need to cry.  I know there is a balance and I can’t cry over every little thing that makes me feel sad, but there was a time when I just stopped “feeling.”  I didn’t use to be that way, but after I got married, and I don’t know why, I just began to slowly numb my emotions.

When I could cry, I was a teenager.  When I was feeling this way, I would get in my car and just drive.  Sometimes I would park somewhere and cry until I couldn’t cry anymore.  I would stop and sort things out in  my mind.  I’d pray.  Sometimes I’d come out of it feeling better.  Others I’d have to take another drive and do it again.  I wanted to drive today, but how do you say, “Hey kids, I’m going to pull over and cry and sob and bawl and just try to be alone with God for a little bit.  You all just sit there and be good until I’m done, okay?” 

And then there’s this other thing.  What I’d give for a night alone with my husband!  I want more intimacy.  I feel we’ve been caught up in the business of life and there’s just so much going on we haven’t had time to invest in our relationship.  I just want some time alone so we can talk.  I want to know my husband more, and I want my husband to want to know me more, at a deeper level.   He used to ask me random questions and really listen to what I had to say, just trying to learn something new about me.  But how does that happen when at least one of five kids is sitting around, interrupting, or sneaking around trying to listen to our conversations?  How does that happen when his mind is consumed by this new job he is still working so hard to get to know? 

I forgot that part about moving.  How much it sucks to sit there and wait for my husband to get through learning and mastering his new position.  I’ve learned to be patient over the years, but I guess I’m not so much this time around. 

I guess that’s why I need a night out, just him and me.   No kids.  I guess a girl’s desire to be pursued by the love of her life will never cease. 

Then there’s a part of me that is hurting about a relationship that I didn’t know was bothering me so much.  Something was said that made me realize, “Wow.  This person doesn’t know me like they used to, nor like they should.”  It’s amazing how over time, we can go from being so close to someone, to hardly knowing them at all.  I feel like I hardly know this person anymore, and this person really doesn’t know me either.   

And yet through all this, I have to admit that I feel God pursuing me in a way I can’t explain.  So even with all these tears and frustration, I know something good is going to come out of this – even if it’s just allowing some healing in my heart and learning how to let myself cry like a baby again.

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We got back from the Carolinas yesterday afternoon.  Honestly, I think it would have been easier if I hadn’t gone!  But in many ways I feel like we were supposed to go.  NEVER in my life have I felt like I feel about that place.  I just feel like we belong there.

The moment we started driving into familiar territory I started tearing up.  I don’t think Scott knew what to do with me!  But I think he understood.  He started getting a little sentimental too. 

On Sunday, God spoke to Scott and me during the Praise & Worship at our church there in SC.  We both know that we are going to have to make some decisions over the next couple of years.  I think we are going to have to decide on what we want in life and what we are willing to give up.  Do we want to make SC our home or do we want to continue what we are doing, moving every couple of years and advance in a very promising career? 

Everything in me says we belong in SC.  I’ve never lived anywhere where it has felt like it was home.  Not like this at least.  I told Scott that in some ways it’s so hard, but at the same time, it’s so wonderful knowing that I am no longer a wanderer, or drifter.  I’ve felt like that the last 10 years as we’ve moved from place to place.  Even as a teenager, I knew I wasn’t going to stay in my home town.  And when Scott and I got married, I knew for sure that we’d never live there again.  Now I have a place I want to call home. 

We have friends who are like family, a church we love and want to help grow and serve, great schools…the list could go on and on.  Everything about it just feels right (for us), and it felt right the first day Scott and I drove into town.  I remember sitting next to him in the car, taking in the scenery.  He looked at me and said, “It feels like home.” 

It didn’t take long before Scott and I were saying that we weren’t going to leave.  God told us “never say never.”  Nearly two years later, things got crazy and Scott didn’t have much of a choice on staying if he was going to stay with the company.  Now we are in Ohio!

Yes, I know that right now, we are supposed to be here in Ohio.  And it’s not that I’m not happy here.  We have great friends, a huge house, (which is nice with five kids!), so many good churches to choose from, good schools…again, I could go on and on.  But there’s just something missing. 

And I haven’t forgotten the hard times while living in SC – the times when we felt alone or frustrated about how things were going (especially in some of the relationships or ministries we were involved in), but I suppose that if you are going to have any kind of intimacy, then frustration, conflict, and sometimes even lonliness may be inevitable. 

So Scott and I have been talking, and praying, and contemplating on the decisions we will have to make.   We have time.  But this is one big decision!  For me, it’s easy.  I want one place and one place only to raise my children.  I want them to grow up with their friends and the stability of knowing that there is one place we call home.  But I’m afraid that my husband will feel that he’s never reached his full potential.  I know he’ll have to have something to strive for, to achieve.  Maybe it’s somewhere in some sort of ministry, or with another company.  Or maybe we’ll continue moving and he’ll get to pursue his dreams within this company. 

But as we go through all of this, my dream about the train seems to be making more sense.  There are so many areas in our lives that I feel like this dream applies.  But I’m convinced that this whole decision making thing is an area where my husband is going to have to push and I am going to have to simply stand back and support him no matter what.  If we all do our part, God will take control in the end.  Right?

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So I didn’t have Internet connection while in Oklahoma. But that’s okay. I didn’t have much time either between visiting with friends & family and working on my sister’s wedding stuff. But I did type up a blog on a rather frustrating night – the night before the wedding. I’ve been wrestling with the decision to post (or not post) this particular situation since it was written out of frustration, but while enjoying a nice hot shower last night, I thought, “What the heck? I’m posting it!” So here it is! Really though, I think this is something I need to remember.

Friday, June 15, 2007 – 11:15 p.m.

Today I felt betrayed. It has been such a long time that I have been hurt so badly that it actually physically hurt. Do you know that feeling? That feeling where you literally feel a pain in your heart as you try to fight back the tears? That’s where I was today. I sat in my car as Scott drove and we talked about the situation I was involved in with my sister. My sister hurt my heart. Doesn’t that feel like a simple kid-like statement? But that’s simply the truth. My heart literally hurt.

Since I can’t remember the first time I’ve felt this way, I’ve struggled in knowing how to handle the situation. I told my mom that I can’t wait to go. I just want to go home. That made her sad, I know. She told me she SO wanted me to have a good time while I was here in Oklahoma.

It’s been over three years since I’ve been back home. The truth is, I’ve had a GREAT time. I got to see Katrina (Transplanted & Growing) who is like a sister to me, and my mom who took us to a great Korean restaurant. (Dwight was in heaven – especially when the pretty waitress teased him about spilling his water by bringing him a cup with a lid – that was so funny!) I got to meet the four year old girl who by tomorrow will officially be my niece. Boy is she something else! I’ve already fallen in love with her. I got to see my aunt and two cousins and the baby boy the older cousin recently gave birth to. And the kids have had a blast playing with the frogs and turtles, swimming, picking apricots and eating them right out of Uncle Spencer and Aunt Katrina’s back yard. So it has been so much fun and so nice to see family. But with family, there often comes drama and I hate to think that I allowed my little sister to pull me into her dramatic little life.

We’ve been trying to plan her wedding. It was all done on such short notice and I guarantee you, if you stick several women in a room together, there’s going to be disagreement. My sister led me to believe that her new Mother-in-law has been very controlling about the details of the wedding, and I believe she has been to some extent. But Melanie is going to have to learn to speak her mind, say what she wants, and stop trying to play the victim in the situation.

I ended up saying something the other night during a game of Poker with my sister and her fiance, that I realized was probably misinterpreted. It hit me minutes after they left what they were probably thinking – they were probably thinking I was talking badly about his mother! I HONESTLY was not talking about her. I just thought of something funny and cracked a joke off a comment my sister had made – it had nothing to do with my B-I-L’s mom, I was simply humoring myself. But when it hit me that my future brother-in-law probably took it all wrong, I felt so bad. I was embarrassed and humiliated that he would think that I would do such a thing, so I excused myself from the company I was in and made the phone call to apologize and explain.

My sister didn’t exactly handle the phone call gracefully…but that was okay – I get it. I apparently hurt her fiance. I’d be upset if someone hurt my husband too. I explained to her what I meant and promised her I honestly didn’t mean it the way it sounded and she let me know that she was pretty sure her fiance took it the wrong way. So I asked her to please let him know I was sorry and did not mean it in that context. She asks me, “Do you want to just tell him yourself?”

Did I? NO. I wanted her to explain it to him because I was already fighting back the tears. I HATE, HATE, HATE it when I am misunderstood. But I said sure because I know I shouldn’t be a big chicken when it comes to apologizing and explaining myself. So I fumbled with my words trying to explain to him the situation and he pretty much said Okay and Don’t worry about it. He didn’t sound convinced, but you know what? I did my part. I called, I explained, I apologized. I honestly was not even thinking about his mom when I said what I said, and if I had, I would have said so and admitted I screwed up when I apologized.

So imagine my surprise the next day when my sister shows up at the house she is going to have her wedding at, and basically chews me out about the situation. Wow. She waited until I walked to the back of the house alone and told me that her fiance was offended last night and really upset. I just looked at her for a minute. I was having a hard enough time giving myself a break for possibly hurting my BIL’s feelings the first week I’ve known him and here she is bringing it up again? So I told her, “I already apologized. I don’t know what else I can do. I tried to explain to you guys what I meant by that and I really didn’t mean it the way he took it.”

I wanted to smack the sour look off her face. But I didn’t. But what she did hurt. She wanted me to continue feeling bad about the situation. And she succeeded in making me feel bad. She left the house right after that and Mom came in to pin my dress where it needed to be fixed. I fought back the tears as I told her what happened, only to find my sister had already vaguely told her the story…she just forgot to mention the tiny (yet important) details. You know, like the fact that I called to apologize, or how about the fact that she’s the one who started the conversation? She simply let my mom know that I hurt and offended her fiance and that was it. Just stab me in the back why don’t ya? Why is she trying to make me look so bad?

Then? THEN she returns to the house in tears, telling me her fiance chewed her out. He said that his mom called him up, clearly upset because she told her that I was planning on not staying for the rehearsal dinner. Wow. “Well, Melanie, what did you tell her?” I asked.

She didn’t answer, she just walked away. Turns out she told her not to be offended if I left the rehearsal dinner (because I didn’t like that she changed the plans last minute from going to a nice restaurant to having it at the house).

That’s NOT what I said. I told her that if my kids started to act up, I might have to leave early. I wasn’t sure how long the dinner was supposed to last. I didn’t want them getting into the wedding decorations tearing up everything we worked so hard to make nice the night before the wedding. They’ve been tired and I wasn’t sure how well they were going to behave, so I told her we might have to leave early. She took what I said and twisted it to make me look like a witch. Then she came back and shared the drama with me. She made sure to let me know that her fiance made a comment about my damned remark from the other night. He clearly wasn’t over it. He clearly didn’t believe my explanation. That hurt. And then it just felt like she wanted me to feel bad about saying we may have to leave early.

So now, I’m pretty sure her fiance hates my guts and I’ve been made out to be the bitch by my own sister. She knows me and she very well could have explained things (with each situation) in a much more honest way. I’ve heard her tell people before, “You just have to know my sister, you just have to know her sense of humor…” But she didn’t do that when her fiance was hurt by my comment. My sister knows me.

So yes, I’m hurt. I felt I was trying my best to be there for my sister, to be loyal to her during a rough week, and I got bit in the butt! I haven’t even gone into all the details of the situation, but this whole situation is a good lesson learned.

I really had high hopes that with her beginning a new phase in her life, becoming both a mommy and wife, that we’d have more in common and maybe we could be closer. But tonight that dream has been shattered. But I still love her and because I love her, I’m going to keep my mouth shut and let her enjoy her moment. I’ll let her walk down the aisle in wedded bliss and enjoy her honeymoon in Dallas. But after she gets back home, I will call her up and let her know how much she hurt me. I would have never let Scott or anyone else think of my sister so badly. I would have defended her honor. I would have been a better sister.

I really really really hate being misunderstood.


After the wedding, I decided it really wouldn’t be a good idea to talk to my sister after all. What sense does it make to re-create all that drama? And that’s what would happen. She would just get upset, go crying to her husband, and I really can’t see anything positive coming out of it.

I prayed about it and feel that this situation was a good lesson for me. I think I needed to go through this because if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t know to just keep my mouth shut and pray for my sister when she calls me about future dramatic events with her new family. And I’m sure she will call in tears a time or two over the next year as she adjusts to being a part of a new family.

So that’s what I’m going to do. I’ll be there for her, but I won’t give her advice, I’ll just let her know I’m praying for her, let her know she needs to take these situations to God and if needed, her husband, and that’s it. No more drama for me, thank you very much!

And of course, the next time my sister twists things around, I will address the issue, but I just can’t take away the joyful memories of her wedding day. Even if I waited a year to talk to her about it, I feel that any time she looked back on that day, she’d feel a pang of hurt or maybe even regret in her heart from my confrontation about the way she hurt me. So I’m letting it go.

So it’s over `with and I’m home and life goes on. I’m back to unpacking the house. Life is fun. God is good. I’ve grown the last week and as painful as it was, I’ve come out of the situation stronger. (how cheesy and dramatic does THAT sound? But it’s true!) And no matter what, I love my sister. Even if we will never be as close as I’ve wanted to be, I will always love her.

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Not The Good Dog!

We have this running joke about our two Wire Fox Terriers. We have the good dog and the bad dog. They are like the good little angel that sits on your shoulder and the bad little devil on the other. One cares, the other doesn’t. Fox and Jake are alike only in that they are the same breed of dog.

Fox aims to please. He never does anything bad. Jake could care less if he pisses you off, or pisses on the bed for that matter, as long as he’s happy.

With Scott being out of town, I decided I would treat myself to a movie late at night. Never Been Kissed was on tv so I sat on the couch with my glass of wine and semi-fussy baby to watch. Around 11:00 I knew I needed to start preparing for bed, so while the movie was still playing, I let the two dogs out for their last bathroom break before bed and started on the dishes while continuing to watch the movie. I moved on to the laundry. Just as I was unloading the dryer I realized, “Oh crap! The dogs!” It had been about 30 minutes. I went to the back door expecting them to be sitting there anxiously waiting to be let in, but there were no dogs. I opened the door and called, “Fox! Jake! Come!”

No dogs.

Okay, you’ve got to be kidding me. I know Jake LOVES to run away, but he doesn’t in the dark, only during the day. There is a section of wrought iron fence between us and our neighbor’s house that we hadn’t covered with chicken wire because all the bushes and trees covered the area during the spring. Needless to say, the Autumn wind blew away all the leaves and now the escape route is exposed. We can’t allow Jake to go outside unsupervised for a minute. He’ll even try to run away when I’m out there watching him!

So I called and called and called them, but nothing. GREAT. “God, why does this always happen to me when Scott is out of town?” I called Scott and left him a message on his cell. He was already asleep. “Just letting you know the dogs ran away. I’m going out to look for them…just wanted to let you know in case…just in case some…Just in case you need to know where I am.” Geeze. Just in case something happens? What is wrong with me? What – am I leaving him one last clue to find his missing wife? I am sick! Sure it was smart of me to let him know but the morbid thoughts of what might happen playing in my head was what I am sickened by.

I load the baby in her car seat. Perhaps I can find them since they haven’t been out that long. I couldn’t believe I was leaving 4 of my sleeping kids at home alone while I loaded my infant in the van on a freezing December night. But these dogs weren’t made to handle the cold weather. I feel relatively safe in this neighborhood, and had determined I was only going to drive down the streets nearest my house.

I drove in the night, briefly leaving my window down so I could call and whistle. What am I thinking? Am I seriously going to wake up the entire neighborhood AND freeze out my baby in the process? She started crying. I continued to drive with my brights on. It was pitch black and quiet – except for the screaming baby.

I went down another street, watched as a car pulled out of the driveway, and I decided to turn around. Maybe they have my dogs and they are going to drive them over. But no, they turned out of the neighborhood.

Something, (or someone – Maddison? God?), told me to just go home. Fine. I’m going home. Maddison continued to cry as I brought her inside the warm house. I went to the back yard and wouldn’t you know it? There’s Jake – the bad dog.

Oh my gosh, what if this whole time they were still in the back yard and they just didn’t come when I called? “Fox, Come!” Still no Fox. Apparently Jake was a bad influence on my good dog! What, you two can’t even stick together when you wander away from home? You probably talked him into escaping with you and then left him in the middle of nowhere, you jerk! If dogs could talk, I would have made him tell me the whole story!

It was midnight and the baby had enough of this. I took her upstairs and tried to get her to go to sleep. Please just go to sleep so I can go out to the back yard and look for Fox. Wasn’t happening. Her tummy was hurting. I did everything I could to comfort her. Joshua, who was sleeping in my bed (he loves to do this when daddy is out of town), rolled over and said, “Don’t worry Mom. It’s not your fault.”

Did he know? How did he know? “What’s not my fault?” I asked.

“It’s not your fault that Maddison is crying.” He said.

Oh. Sweet of him to try to comfort me. 10 minutes later, he’s crying too. Why? Because Maddison was still screaming and he wasn’t used to hearing it. He doesn’t usually sleep in the same room as Maddison, so when she has her screaming fits, he’s still off in dreamland.

It was after 1:00 in the morning before I finally got Maddison to sleep. I went downstairs for one last look, wrote the boys a note to let them know to keep an eye out for Fox at their bus stops (just in case I happened to fall into such a deep sleep that I didn’t wake up to tell them myself), and set the house alarm. “WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” She was awake again.

I went upstairs completely pissed off. “God, why me? Why now? Is this the unexpected thing that was going to happen? Are you really going to let us lose our beloved dog? Not the bad one, but the good one?” Scott and I joke that he was our first baby together. I know he’s just a dog, but he’s a GREAT dog. He’s Scott’s dog. How will he ever forgive me? How will I ever forgive myself?

So I spent the next thirty minutes praying and yelling at God.

“God, You know me. You know I’m going to hate myself forever if we don’t get this dog back! You know I’ll torture myself about this for the rest of my life and hate myself forever.”
“God please…”
“How could you?!”
“God, you are the one who is supposed to be taking care of ALL of us while my husband is gone – when I have nobody. How am I supposed to be able to trust you when…”
“If you are going to take the dog, fine, but you could at least have the decency to let us say goodbye first.”
“Oh, so I ask you not to take away the good things in my life – my children and husband, and I forget to mention the dogs. Is this some kind of joke?”

Obviously sleep deprivation was getting to me. I was being irrational – childish. I kept catching myself going where I shouldn’t with these thoughts and prayers. I hate it when this happens because the darkness in my heart is completely exposed. The bitterness and ungratefulness is shown. I am wicked. I am angry at God over a dog. I am angry because I feel like He wants to take something good from me. I am angry at Him because I still don’t feel like I can fully trust Him with every aspect of my life even though He’s provided and blessed and given above and beyond my wildest dreams. Somehow it’s all His fault, and I know that’s not fair. So I cry.

Around 3 a.m. I woke up to discover I’d actually fallen asleep. Then I think about the good dog. I wonder if he’s freezing to death? It’s a good thing he hasn’t been groomed yet because he has that extra fur on him to keep him warm. But what if he is dead? What if he got hit by a car or freezes to death? I drifted back to sleep…but every time the heater would kick back on, I’d wake up thinking of Fox and his warm empty bed.

Finally, the boys’ alarm went off and I got up to let them know to keep an eye out for him. I went back to bed. Soooooooo tired. At 7:30, Maddison wanted to nurse. I was feeding her when the phone rang. It was Scott. Somebody called and left a message on his cell around midnight. They had him. He almost got hit by a car on the road right outside our neighborhood, but he dodged the car and came when the man called him.

I called the man up and agreed to pick him up as soon as I could get my kids out the door. He told me that he chained him outside last night and told his wife he’d keep him for a couple of days. He doesn’t trust the pound. I wanted to pay him but didn’t have anything on me at the moment. I promised to return. He refused. He would want someone to do the same for him if it were his dog. I’ll be back – even if it’s just with some treats for his dog.

I thought about Suzy and the effort she made to find the owner of the dog at the site of the parade. “I will be like these two,” I thought. I will make the time to reunite a wandering dog with his owner the next time I see one walking around the neighborhood.

I drove back home with my happy, yet cold, good dog. I thanked God and also apologized for my childish fit. God spoke to my heart, told me to go read Psalms.

Psalms 73:21 – Then I realized that my heart was bitter, and I was all torn up inside. I was so foolish and ignorant – I must have seemed like a senseless animal to you. Yet I still belong to you; you hold my right hand. You guide me with your counsel, leading me to a glorious destiny. Whom have I in heaven but you? I desire you more than anything on earth. My health may fail, and my spirit may grow weak, but God remains the strength of my heart; He is mine forever.

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