Sometimes...

...even now, I look at my children sleeping and my heart swells to the point of bursting.  What did I ever do to deserve such blessings?

...I wonder where the bugs in my house go when they run away from me and how many there really are in my walls.  I don't sleep well when I wonder this.

...I wonder why Map Quest always takes me through the worst part of town.  I mean, I know I grew up in the ghetto but I really have no need to visit all of the other ghettos in all of the other cities to which I travel.

...I want to just go to the airport and buy a ticket to the first city I see on the departure board.  Of course my OCD/Taurus mind won't let that happen unless I research the city, make hotel and dinner reservations and find the nearest shopping mall.  Kind of defeats the purpose.

...I just start talking to God mid sentence.  I know this aggravates my friends when I do it to them, but I figure he already knows what I was thinking anyway right?

...I wonder how people get through a day without talking to God?  I asked my son the other day if he prayed.  He said, "yes but not every day".  Really?  I chat with God like I'm IM'ing Him.  Just random nothings or deep prayers - doesn't matter.  We're tight.  I'm going to have to mention this to the boys so they don't think praying has to be a formal event.

...the need I have to be near the ocean or Chesapeake Bay is a physical pull that can actually hurt.

...I'm in the middle of an argument and I realize I'm wrong.  I hate it when that happens.

...I reach a point at work when I realize that I am finished being productive for the day.  It's bad when that happens at 10:00 in the morning but I just think of that as my brain needing some down time.  I embrace it.

...a song gets stuck in my head and it can stay there for days.  Often it's annoying but most times I just go with it and sing it until even my brain is tired of hearing it and it goes away.

...I get frustrated with women who feel the need to downplay their strengths because they feel like they are bragging.  This is exactly why men do so much better in the business world than we do.  I am smart - much smarter than many of my colleagues.  It's not bragging, it's a strength that should be put to use.  I refuse to bury that. 

...I also get frustrated with men when they fail to realize that women are not supposed to be exactly like them either at home or in the workplace.  Women bring a different perspective to a situation that is supposed to be different than their male counterparts.  It's how we are wired...on purpose.  Don't fuck around with God's plan.  Go with it.

...I read a sentence three or four times and still have no idea what I've read.

...I can spend hours in Staples or CVS just "window" shopping.

...I wish I had an aptitude for technology.  I still can't figure out how the picture gets into the TV and when people try to explain it to me I find I don't really care.  Just shut up and let me see the end of this show.

...I ask my husband to pull my finger.

...when I walk through automatic doors I pretend I'm magical.  I wave my arms in the air, embarrass my boys, and shout "wingardia leviosa".  Being my child may not be perfect, but it's never boring.

...I marvel at the man that is my husband.  He frustrates me and is turning into an unhappy, grumpy old man but he's my unhappy, grumpy old man and I'll pull him through this phase of life the way I've pulled him through all of the others.  Just like he does for me. 

And finally, sometimes I wonder what would have happened and where I would be if I hadn't quit drinking.  But fortunately that's only sometimes.  Most times I'm just grateful as hell that I did.

Namaste

The Pride of the Chesapeake Bay

Yesterday I attended my first wedding since I put down my wine glass.  It was also my first "child of a friend" wedding.  I discovered two things...

First...I'm old.  Most of the couples' friends were in their mid to late twenties and I shit you not, looked about twelve.  At one point I said to the father of the bride, "Who the hell invited all these kids and where are their parents?"  He said, "Um...that would be us."

I did very much enjoy watching the thirty something's try to pretend they were still young on the dance floor...they did okay.  Then there were the forty something's who were doing the same thing but not nearly as well...they looked just a little pathetic.  But my favorite were my fellow fifty something's and I on the dance floor knowing full well we had already deeded all manner of hipness and cool (along with all of our rhythm) to the twenty something's and not caring!  We danced and had fun and laughed and hugged.  And props to the mother of the bride who is one of my fellow fifty something's, and who did a passable Wobble.  Rock on my friend.

There was a very sweet moment when the photographer caught Bill and I canoodling at the table.  She snapped us and then sat down to say, "Are you guys married?"  I replied that yes we were.  " How long," she asked.  "Thirty years," I said.

"Wow!  And you still kiss after all this time?"

Uh...yeah.   Wait.  What?

She seemed genuinely shocked.  And she photographs weddings!!!  Guess locking lips ain't what it used to be.

The second thing I learned was this...

It wasn't as much fun without the wine.

At first.

The wedding was held at a resort on the Chesapeake Bay.  A beautiful, fancy resort.  The sun was shining and a breeze was gently blowing off the water to cool the guests.  I looked up to the hotel and saw the bay front rooms with chairs perched perfectly to watch the sunset.  Then I looked directly to my right to see the outdoor cafe, complete with a covered bar.  I closed my eyes and felt the breeze and took in the scent of my beloved Chesapeake.

I and craved a fucking glass (bottle/bottles) of wine.  Then I sighed, shook it off and waited for the ceremony to begin.

After we all filed into the reception hall (that had a HUGE bar), I found our table at which I sat facing the bay.  It was gorgeous (I also sat with my back to the bar).  At one point during the evening I turned to Bill and said, "Is it bad that I would be having more fun if I was drinking?"  Of course he said no, that it was normal, that I was fine.

So I sat back and took a long hard look at the reception and tried to feel what I was actually feeling.

I was bored.

But why?  It was a wedding!  I love weddings!

Then I realized why I was bored.  It was because I barely knew anyone there, most of the guests were under the age of 35, and the music was way too loud and they weren't playing any slow songs (as in nada, zip, zero).  I love slow dancing with the hubs!  We had also gotten up at 4:00 am that morning to drive seven hours to get there and were leaving the following morning at 6:00 am to return home.

I was bored AND tired!

And once I realized that it wasn't wine I needed, it was sleep and a slow song, I was sooooo relieved!  I started thinking about what it would really be like if I was drinking. Sure, I would have loosened up and been more relaxed - for about 30 seconds - and then I'd be trying to figure out how fast I could drink this glass to get to the next glass and did they have enough of my brand and maybe I should have Bill bring back two at a time and maybe we can go to the bar after and UUUGGGGGHHHHHH...shut the fuck UP!

Hmmmm...yeah.

Instead I took beautiful pictures which I have photo-shopped and sent to my friend.  I enjoyed the rest of the reception and went home to my daughter's house and spent the night with my grandchildren.  Then I got up early, without little sweaters on my teeth and a sour stomach and sense of guilt and regret, and came home with my husband of 30 years who is still proud of me and willing to kiss me.

And the most important thing?  I'm still proud of me.

Namaste

Exercising Self Care

Self care should always include pink roses.

Whenever I used to hear the term "exercising self care", I always thought, "I exercise self care all the time!  I'm married to a man who takes care of my house, rubs my feet, and indulges my need for massages, mani-pedi's and Target time.  Anything else would be selfish!"  My idea of self care consisted of what I could spend on myself without feeling guilty.  "I deserve these new shoes.  I shouldn't feel guilty.  I'm just taking care of myself." 

It also worked well when trying to rationalize yet another case of wine purchased.  I knew we were broke, I knew I was drinking too much, I knew I should be buying cheaper wine but I was exercising self care!  I work hard...I deserve it.  But that's another post entirely...in fact, I've probably already written it.

Anyway...

As I meander my way through recovery to find and maintain my zen, I've come to realize that self care isn't what you do to yourself.  It's figuring out what feeds your soul, who makes you happy, and what gives you joy, and then arranging and rearranging your life until you find the balance that makes and keeps you sane.  That place you can go after a long day at work that included an event filled with empty chatter from people you don't like (oops...that might just be me) where you can just be.  It's surrounding yourself with those things on a regular basis.

Along the way I've learned a thing or two.

I've learned that I need about an hour of alone time every night before bed.  I need to go in my room, close the door and read, or watch TV or play on my iPad.  I look forward to that time in the evening the way I used to look forward to my glass (bottles) of wine.  I've learned that in order for me to be the kind of mother, wife, friend I want to be, I have to indulge this part of me.  Maybe not every night, but most nights.

I've learned that life is too short to hang around people you don't like or who drain your life force.  Sometimes you have no choice.  A co-worker who is negative and sits right beside you spreading negativity all day can't be avoided.  A niece who only calls when she wants something or is in crisis is, unfortunately, a cross that has to be borne.  But when I've had just about all I can handle, I know I need to do something to get my zen back.  Meditation, yoga, a call to a really good friend or a heart to heart with the hubs usually works.

But if at all possible, I've learned to extricate myself from "life suckers" and, and this is the important part so pay attention, not feel guilty about it.  I have a neighbor who has seen some heartache in the last few years.  She's a wonderful person but her whole life is spent dwelling on the negative and all of our conversations center around "woe is me".  Our friendship was beginning to become more than I could handle, so I backed away.  I created space.  We're still friendly but not in the way we used to be.  Thing is, I never would have done this before - I would have endured because I needed for people to need me.  Plus, I never would have wanted to hurt her feelings or for her to think badly of me.  Now I know that's it's just something I need to do and I stop worrying about what's in her head - it's none of my business anyway.

The wonderful thing is that I'm learning new things every day.  We have a wedding back home this weekend.  It's an 6-8 hour drive and we're taking the granddaughters home as well.  In a prior life, I would have made myself miserable trying to please everyone and get to every one's house to hang out and see everyone and please everyone but me.  I would be stressed and cranky and overly anxious.  There would be a strict schedule to maintain and no one, especially me, would have found the visit pleasant at all. 

Um...not so much.

Well not this time missy.  We'll drive up on Friday night.  Stay at my daughters house.  Leave for the wedding on Saturday early enough for me to stop and see my best friend for an hour or so before the wedding.  It's on the way AND I really need to lay eyes on her and get a hug (another way I'm exercising self care).  Then we'll go to the wedding where I'll see even more friends that I love and miss in the most beautiful and positive setting possible.  Then back to the daughter's to sleep and up and on the way home early Sunday morning.  I'll be exhausted but I will have fed my soul and not made myself a nitwit.  Win-win!

I love that I'm still figuring things out about myself even at the advanced age of 52.  I love this journey of recovery and all of the little gems it brings.  Yes, I wish I had known all this when I was younger but I'm not sure I was ready to know it.  All things in God's time.

And if all else fails...Target will be there waiting with open arms.

Namaste

"Happiness is when what you think, what you say and what you do are in harmony." ~ Mahatma Gandhi

Time for a Little Gratitude

Last night I took my granddaughters out for a "girls' night" and we ended up painting pottery.  In the very foreground of this picture you can see my coffee mug - I wrote "Gratitude" on it.  I'm not sure where that word came from but I thought maybe I should show a little today...you know, in case it was the Big Guy calling.

Today I am blessed and grateful for:

My beautiful granddaughters who are just all around good people.  I love spending time with them and it will be hard to take them home on Friday.

The fact that two of my three at home have found summer employment.  If you've got an extra prayer, please send one up that someone calls Brian back soon.  His already fragile self-esteem is beginning to take a hit.

My husband who takes such good care of me when I'm running around like a crazy woman.  He's even picking up things at Sam's that I need for work!  I thank God every day that I had the good sense to go out with him when he asked.

My acceptance into graduate school!  I'm registered and just waiting for my financial aid to come through.  This program is so perfect for me that it's scary.  Can't wait to get started.

My job.  I love the people in my crazy office and even though the work isn't what I want to do for the rest of my life, it pays the bills and makes me laugh and keeps me in shoes.

My cute as a button new granddaughter in Oklahoma who I can't wait to see in September!!!  Bill and I are driving out to be there when her parents get married.  I can't wait for Bill to meet her either.  And if you think I'm kidding about her cuteness, I've included proof.

The sunglasses are to protect her anonymity...you know how the paparazzi can be.

And finally for today...my faith.  The thing that gives me hope when I feel all is lost, keeps me up when I'm feeling down, and fills me with love and peace on a daily basis.

Thank you God.

Namaste

Where Did It Go...

My granddaughters are with us this week.  For the first time since they were little girls they get to spend time at our house alone.  That's not because my daughter wouldn't have loved for us to keep them, it's because we keep moving farther and farther away and they keep getting busier and busier.

They are now 15 and 14 and as I looked at the oldest on Saturday I couldn't help but think, where did it go?

Where did my fuzzy headed little girl go?  Eve has very curly blond hair that has a tendency to frizz up over night.  When she was little it made the cutest little halo on top of her head and when I would pick her up, she would bury that fuzzy little head in the crook of my neck and I would soak up all her babyness.

Where did it go?

Matthew and William are working this summer and Brian is still looking.  They could have worked in previous summers but I wanted them to enjoy their teen years...you know, sleeping until 3:00 pm and staying up all night playing video games with their friends.  Such productive endeavors.  But now, they are all off in different directions all the time and I barely catch a glimpse of them along the way. 

Where did it go?

Where did the sweaty smell of little boys go? Where did baseball caps on the counter and stinky sneakers in my mudroom go?  Where did up all night sleepovers and little arms around my neck and sloppy kisses on my cheek go?  I still get hugs and kisses but it's different when your head hits their chest and kisses are an opportunity to remind them to shave.  And sleepovers have a totally different meaning and will not be happening in my house.

Where did it go?

Where did late night conversations where I could barely keep my eyes open go?  The ones I used to dread because I had to get up early for work but I stayed up and stayed present (even in the two years I was drinking heavily) because that's the only time that teens want to talk.  I would listen and talk and listen some more.  I would make suggestions or even give advice if asked.  And as they walked back to their room I'd be happy because I knew I was still needed.

Where did family meals around the kitchen table go?  The ones where there were always one or two more mouths to feed and we talked about our days and laughed at inappropriate jokes (or bodily functions) and planned out the weekend activities.  Some of that still happens but it's not the same.  Now there are girlfriends as well as their "boys" around the table and most of the time there's not even room for Bill and I to sit much less participate in conversation.  But I still watch and and listen revel in the fact that family dinner time is still one of their favorite times of the day.

Where did sand castles and bleached blond hair with little boy tan lines along little boy bottoms go?  We haven't been on vacation in a few years and likely won't be going anywhere anytime soon.  They're off on vacation with their friends or girlfriends anyway and while they'd love to go somewhere with us, it's much more expensive and complicated to take five grown adults away than it is to take two semi-grown adults and 3 or 4 or 5 little kids.  They don't exactly eat off the kids menu anymore.

And who am I kidding?  I know where it all went.  Time.  It went with the passage of time.  I curse the passage of time and the in the same breath find myself praying for more.  More time to get those hugs and kisses and dinners and conversations.  More time to spend with them and their kids and maybe, if I'm very, very lucky, their kids also. 

I have no idea where this came from today except that when I kissed Eve goodnight last night, her fuzzy head (that is now perfectly coiffed) tickled my nose.

And it made me smile.

Namaste

Tired, Pissed, Grateful

I hate to admit this.  With all of my do-it-all-and-never-let-anyone-see-you-sweat, ask-mom-and-she-knows, give-it-to-Sherry-and-it-will-get-done fiber in my being, I hate to type these words, much less say them out loud.  But the time has come to give voice to something that I've been needing to say since approximately May 31st when we kicked off our "busy" season here at work.

I'm tired.

Bone tired.

Weary bone tired.

The reason I hate to admit this is because I feel like it means that I'm old.  Yes, I'm working most days 10-14 hours (sometimes more if there's an evening event).  AND I'm doing in business attire and 1-3 inch heels (depending on said business attire).  AND I'm logging over 20,000 steps a day.  So I guess I should be at least a little tired.  But this is a tired that I've only experienced in the last few years or so.  It's deep people, really deep.  And I wouldn't really mind it if I had always been this way but that is not the case.  Not the case at all I tell you!

I remember when times like this at work actually ENERGIZED me.  I would go home and do an hour workout and then go out for the evening, get home at midnight and get up at six to do it all again!  I remember when I was raising three babies at once, only getting about 5 hours of sleep per night (not in a row mind you) AND working a full time, 40 hour per week job.  Even then I found time to workout, play with the kids and have a romantic life.

Now?  Not so much.  Most nights it's all I can do to come home, change clothes, water the plants (on the porch no less...not even a garden on the back forty or anything), wash my face and fall into bed by 9:30 or 10:00.

Really?

I feel old, and broken, and...well...old.

And I don't like it...not one little bit.

PLUS, shit hurts!  My feet hurt and my knee hurts and if I don't sit in the exactly correct position when I work on my laptop my shoulder hurts and my head hurts and damn, even my teeth hurt from time to time.  WTF is that about?  This isn't the good kind of hurt like when you've done too many squats and your butt and quads are so sore the next day you have trouble going down the stairs.  This is an achy, arthritis type of old hurt.  AND I HATE IT.

I'm pissed.

I'm pissed that I'm not cool anymore and that I look like a dork when I dance (where did my rhythm go anyway?).  I'm pissed that even though I think I sound hip when I use slang, I actually sound like an old lady using slang and it embarrasses my kids (but I do it on purpose anyway - hey I need to have a little fun).  I'm pissed that I can't find anything to wear because what I should be wearing looks like something an old lady would wear and what I want to wear is actually better suited to the 30 something crowd.  Plus my ass is the size of Texas right now and what looks good in a magazine or a catalog just doesn't translate well in the real world on this particular real body.

I'm tired and I'm pissed.

But, dammit, I'm still one of the most blessed women on the planet so not only am I tired and pissed but I'm very, very grateful as well.

I guess it's all in the perspective.  But damn I'm tired.

Namaste

Googling My Way Sober

It's been 3 1/2 years since I had a drink.  3 1/2 years of sobriety.  3 1/2 years of wonder and learning and coping and...just...living.  And about 2 years in what I would call actual recovery.

Wait...what?

When I got sober it was all I could do to string a series of hours, then days, then weeks together.  I just wanted to stay away from the wine aisle in the grocery store.  I just wanted to not drink.  To be dry, sober, abstaining.  I could have cared less about recovery, or being healthy or dealing with life on life's terms.  I just didn't want to drink anymore. No, strike that...I wanted to drink but I didn't want to be a drunk anymore.  After three relapses, several unsuccessful attempts at moderation, and a number of fits and starts, I realized that I couldn't drink without the drunk part so I had no choice but to give up the wine entirely.

I (blessedly) hadn't really become physically addicted so I didn't need detox.  I was also afraid of AA because of what I'd seen in my family (I later went for a few months and then decided it wasn't for me.) So I did what I always do when faced with a problem that needs an answer.

I Googled it.

This was not the first time I had Googled my drinking. 

"Am I drinking too much?"
"Signs of alcoholism."
"Signs of cirrhosis."
"What is alcoholism?"
"Alcoholism in women."
"Alcoholism in working women."

You get the idea.  No matter how I phrased it, the answer was the same...I was drinking too much.  I had a problem.  I was a problem drinker.  (That's as far as I would go then.  The "A" word didn't come up until much later.)

This time though, I needed something else.  I needed a way to stay sober.  So I Googled something like, "how to stop drinking" or some such.  What I found was a rich online community with Chinese restaurant menu like options - give me one from column A and two from column C...etc.  Want to try AA?  There's an online community of AA groups that meet entirely in cyberspace.  Want to talk?  Register in a chat room.  Need to spill your guts?  Online counseling exists (this one usually costs money and I'm rather skeptical but to each their own).  Need a different recovery process?  There are a host of others from which to choose.

And yes, there's an app for all of that.

So I entered some chat rooms, participated in some online AA meetings and eventually found the blogging community which proved to be the best thing I've ever done with the possible exception of marrying the hubs and having my children.  When I started blogging, and reading and discovering I finally began to enter what I consider recovery.

Recovery for me is learning to live as a sober person and not be pissed off about it.  (I still pout from time to time and even throw a little tantrum now and then but for the most part...I'm over it.)  Recovery is learning to appreciate the beauty of sobriety and the way in which it colors my world.  Recovery is forgiveness of past sins whether they be mine or those of others.  Recovery is learning to live in the now and not worry so much about what's going to happen down the road (okay...I'm still working on this one.) 

Recovery is reestablishing my definition of fun, and love and sex and romance.  It's trying to figure out how to relate to the hubs and open my heart to him without the lost inhibitions that a bottle or two of wine brings.  It's learning to be married and grow old together and take on whatever may come without a crutch.  With just each other.

Recovery is finding out who I really am, right now and who I want to be when I grow up.  It's about learning to like and maybe even actually love myself.  Recovery is learning to give myself props (a formerly total foreign concept).

Recovery came in it's own time and, as usual, God's timing is perfect.  When I was trying to get and stay wine-free, I couldn't have handled all that touchy feeling kum-by-ya crap.  I was hanging on by my then artificial nails.  It came when I was strong and ready and open to the experience.

Not sure why all this popped into my head today.  Just felt like it needed to be on the "page".  Maybe it was just because I needed to say thank you.

Thank you to all my blogging friends who have shared, and cried and laughed and suffered and survived with me.  I love you all and I could never have come this far without you. 

Thank you to the lurkers who I can see are out there by page views and who followed me over to this new space where I "Maintain The Zen".  If you ever need anything, please don't hesitate to drop me an email.  I promise to be there for you like this community was there for me.  It's just how we roll.

Thank you God.  You know my heart and how I feel about You.  In a word...you ROCK.

Namaste