Marriage

Episode 31 – Covfefe



WHOA!  We talk about so much random stuff this week: Covfefe, Sean Spicer doesn’t get to meet the Pope, Melania swats Trumps hand, House of Cards, Keep Talking and Nobody Explodes Game, Trump/Melania divorce conspiracy theory, Unmarried presidents, Trump Memorial Day, Conservative Uncle Emails, Ivanka Champagne Popsicles, Kathy Griffin, Notre Dame walk out Pence, Bomb in Kabul, Ariana Grande, Olivia Newton John Cancer, Elon Musk Paris Climate deal, Mr Met Flip Off, Google AI, x-rated photos/videos on personal devices, All Woman Wonder Woman Premiere, Evil Glitter Bomb Plans, Deployment Update, Little Silver Works Jewelry Plug, Fostering Dogs, Nintendo Theme Park, Evergreen State College Drama

HASHTAGS: #Covfefe #SeanSpicer #thePope #Melania #HouseofCards #KeepTalkingandNobodyExplodes #Trumpdivorce #conspiracytheory #Unmarriedpresidents #TrumpMemorialDay #ConservativeUncle #Ivanka #ChampagnePopsicles #KathyGriffin #NotreDame #walkout #Pence #Bomb #Kabul #ArianaGrande #OliviaNewtonJohn #Cancer #ElonMusk #ParisClimate
#MrMet #FlipOff #GoogleAI #womenonly #WonderWomanPremiere #alamodrafthouse #Evil #GlitterBomb #Deployment #Update #LittleSilverWorks #Jewelry #FosteringDogs #NintendoThemePark #EvergreenStateCollege #Drama
Check out this episode!

TGIF (football season, that is)

So here’s the thing about The GingerBeard Man that many of you may not know: he is way super into football.
Like WAY. SUPER. INTO. football.
I am not into sports… The poor guy had to shelve all of his hopes and dreams of curling up in matching team jerseys for Sunday night football with his wife when he proposed to me. I understand football, I’m just not a fan. He is such a fan though. He reads all the info, he listens to the podcasts, he knows all the players names and the coaches names and their children’s names (just kidding.. I think) and he looks forward to the beginning of football season like a kid waiting for Christmas.
And right now, I am so glad because I have so much stuff to do.
I would consider The GingerBeard Man and I to be in a perpetual state of “the honeymoon phase.” If you were to look in from the outside, you see two people who are best friends and who do pretty much everything together. And that is really great. I love hanging out with him, and I’m pretty sure he likes hanging out with me too 🙂 Which is good because I’m not going anywhere, lol.
That said, I have a lot on my plate right now and I’m glad that he has something to keep him occupied while I try and get on top of it all so I don’t feel like I’m blowing him off all the time. The jewelry stuff has gotten a little crazy. Keeping up with the photographs and advertising for The Navajo Silver Shop takes up a few hours a week and I have also opened up a second etsy shop (Hippie Silver) for a different type of jewelry. My brother convinced me to join him for a craft show in October so I have been working on preparing for that as well. Sometimes I can spend an entire day of the weekend working on this stuff and when I finally stop, it’s dark!
Also, you may remember, I had mentioned a few months ago that we are wanting to sell the house, so there are a lot of little projects around the house that need to get knocked out. And some not so little ones, like the tile backsplash in the kitchen which I finally finished this weekend. Except for the grouting, which I will do next weekend. It feel so great to check off a box next to a major item like that, but it has so far taken me three full days to get to where I am on it. And I am sure there is at least one more full day for the grouting and cleanup.
And, of course, the project I want to be working on with ALL of my spare time is the TFTC podcast, which I am hoping to publish sometime in December, or January first at the absolute latest. I had no idea how much work would go into researching, preparing for and finally publishing a podcast. It’s a lot. But it’s a lot in all the right ways! Like the exciting ways! And I cannot wait to get it off of the ground. So while my super cute husband is watching football over the next few months, I am hoping to really hunker down and work, work, work on all of these little projects 🙂

“Why didn’t they want me?”

I forget, more often than not, how much of a big deal being adopted is.
A lot of that probably has to do with the fact that I am not adopted, nor have I ever known anyone who was. And while I try to be aware of how that feels for my daughter, I realize I am not hyper aware of it. In fact, I look at our life and I think, this is a good life. Compared to my childhood, you’ve got it made, kid.
There is something they have been saying on Manic Ramblings that has really stuck with me the last few weeks, they call comparing your life situation to someone else’s The Pain Olympics. I have no idea if they coined this phrase or if it’s been around forever and I’ve just never heard of it before, but I frequently think about it when it comes to comparing life situations.
My daughter only knows her own life. She doesn’t know my childhood, she doesn’t know any of the struggles I have endured, she doesn’t know the lives of the kids in foster care wishing they were adopted. She only knows her own life. And her life, recently, has been difficult for her emotionally.
I’m going to interrupt myself briefly to just say HOLY HELL, the last few months have been such a whirlwind. There have been major changes and major events that I haven’t had even the tiniest bit of time to write about here. Frankly, with the exception of everything I was preparing myself to emotionally go through, I was expecting for my life to slow down, get a little easier, and run more smoothly with the halving of my kiddos… That has not been the case. It was like these small areas were cleaned out and a bunch of drama jumped in to fill them up.
A few weeks ago, my youngest daughter and I had a big fight. I am a Taurus. I am a redhead. I am the oldest child. I was a single mother for more than ten years. So to say that I am a stubborn control freak is an understatement. I live and die by it. I do not like not getting my way, I do not like being told no, I do not like losing. I am The Mom, that’s it. End of story. So when my youngest daughter decided that she was going to 100% defy me, well I was just not even having that. And since I am physically not capable of forcing her to do anything, we spent about two hours fighting. And while I am all of the things mentioned above, my daughter is a fiery Latina with a strong sense of wanting to be in charge of making her own choices, something that was denied to her for most of her life. So, needless to say, this argument didn’t go well.
It began with me telling her she was going to spend the day at day camp and we needed to get ready to go now, she refused. Maybe it was the refusal or the defiance afterwards, but it made me dig my heels in. It wasn’t long afterwards that the tears began as she resolutely held on to her absolute refusal to comply. There was a period of ugliness here where she went down the road of threatening to call CPS on me (something I don’t think your everyday parent hears as much as parents of a child who has spent time in foster care do), she’d lie to them she said, tell them I was abusing her so she didn’t have to live with me any more. Why did I even adopt her, she asked. She wishes I had never adopted her, she hates me, she continued. Any seasoned parent has spent time being told they are hated but it doesn’t lessen the blow any. Why didn’t I adopt some other kid so she could stay with her real family.
This is where we got down into the nuts and bolts of it. This is where she really showed me her pain in all it furious glory. Why didn’t her real family want her? What was wrong with her? Why did all of her sisters get adopted together (two sets of two sisters, adopted by two different families) while none of them took her? Why couldn’t we adopt one of her siblings so she wouldn’t be alone. If her mom is off of drugs now, why can’t she go live with her? Surely, they would all be able to understand her better than we could, because they are her blood.
Now I can usually hold it together pretty well, but this just plain broke my heart. And all I could do was hug her and cry. And while I could answer all of those questions, it won’t fix any of her pain. There is no right answer for that. And so we cried and I hugged her and told her I loved her. And completely and totally exhausted from the entire ordeal, I let her stay home and I left for work. Once I had pulled myself together enough to, I called The GingerBeard Man and relayed the details of what had went down. And can I just tell you right now how much I love this man? This man who joined my family and embraced all four of these daughters that he didn’t know, this man who chose to be their father even though he had never for one day been a father… What does he say to me in response having heard all of this?
We can do better.”
It wasn’t the coddling response I admittedly had thought I would get, one where he would tell me I was the best mother who had ever mothered. It was the honest response of someone who loves that little girl. Who saw past the drama, hurt feelings, and charged emotions of the previous few hours and put any defensive notions to rest immediately, deciding instead to focus on the true issue here. The fact that our little girl is hurt and she needs us to help her with that hurt. And we can do better.

a random list…

I have lost an entire load of laundry in the last week. Does this happen to other parents? It happens occasionally in my home. I think it is because the girls don’t care who’s laundry they have. They just take it and stick it somewhere to keep me from griping at them for not putting their clothes away. A few weeks later, I will stumble across some items I’m missing and upon further digging, discover the entire missing load. In this case, I am very much looking forward to that happening as I am missing two pairs of jeans and I’ve been wearing this pair for three days straight…

The movers came! The movers came! All four thousand, one hundred and fifty pounds of stuff that we moved into the storage room is now packed into wooden crates and on it’s way to Connecticut!

The second I walked out of my bedroom this morning, I started my little mental zen chant I’m ok with the house being messy. I’m ok with the dishes not being done. I’m ok with the table being covered in random stuff. I’m ok with the house being messy. The GingerBeard Man and I discussed this at our anniversary dinner last night. We are accepting the mess around us right now in this time of chaos because trying to tackle it with all the stuff going on is a nearly impossible task, and one that takes the time we want to spend with the two older girls away from us. So for now I am ok with the house being messy.

I found my everyday bra this morning. I thought it was part of the missing laundry. It wasn’t. But I am glad to have it back.

I googled “stress sweating” after being a sweaty mess the last week or so. I couldn’t figure it out. During the whole drive to IKEA this past weekend, I was just dumping sweat. At work, I’m sweaty… even at home. So I finally stopped and asked myself what had changed lately and the only thing I could think of was that I have been super stressed out. Sure enough, The Internet confirms: We have two types of sweat glands: apocrine and eccrine. When we get stressed, the larger apocrine glands – mainly in the armpits and groin – produce sweat. Stressful situations also cause our heart rate to increase, and encourage hormones and adrenaline to flood the body, causing additional sweat from our eccrine glands.

When I told Youngest Daughter yesterday that it was The GingerBeard Man and my anniversary, she asked what we were going to do to celebrate. As he had not told me yet, I said I didn’t know. She excitedly blurted “you should have a water balloon fight!”

I have like four lists right now on my desk. One for all of the things I need to finish at work before I leave in one week for Connecticut. One for all of the things I want to do before I leave regarding home stuff (ha!). One for all of the stuff my oldest daughter needs to do prior to moving. And one for all of the things I want to remember to pack.

Second Oldest Daughter left for Spain yesterday. She sent me a text at 6:30 this morning to tell me she was drinking moscato in Spain. I couldn’t possibly be more jealous.