I GOT AN APOLOGY

Blog Entry #2 for August 6th

The lady I buy my eggs from was so excited for me and my husband.  She's someone I've known for a really long time.  On an errand to send off a package, she ran into him.  He asked her about her family and she congratulated him on being a grandpa soon.  

She had no idea that I have no relationship with my father.  She was not privy to the details of our falling out.  When my dad sent me the text today congratulating me on my pregnancy, he said he had heard the news from someone at the Realtor's meeting.  It upset me so very much because it felt very much like what happened when I was about to get married.  

I had made the decision not to invite my father to my wedding.  It was not a decision I made lightly. Several weeks before I was to get married back in 2010, someone took it upon themselves to tell my father at the local Realtor meeting that I was getting married.  

Having my family in the real estate business used to be really nice.  People knew my family and knew me because of my parents.  It was nice when I was young.  As an adult, having grown up in the business, it got really complicated when my parents' marriage of 30 years ended.  We became gossip and rather than asking me about things related to my profession, folks wanted to know all the nasty details of our family drama.  I left the business for several reasons but a huge one was because our family Spanish novela was not something I wanted to be reminded of.  

So when my dad texted and said he heard my news from the local meeting, I was livid.  I was upset because it meant that even having been out of the business for a number of years, my life was still fodder for the town gossips.  

But it wasn't.  My father was just standing in a line and my egg lady saw him.  She made polite conversation and was just so excited about the news of our new baby that she congratulated my father on what was sure to be a point of pride for him.  

I had written a blog entry, a very frustrated and upset entry about how I felt.  That had gotten emailed out to everyone on my blog list... because the internet...  Very shortly after my post I got a lovely apology from the egg lady.  She told me her version of the story and it was clear she wasn't being a gossip, she was actually being quite sweet.  She was so excited for me and my husband and in turn my father.  

Her enthusiasm was kind and generous... and it certainly isn't her fault that this part of my life is a soap opera.  She was so very sorry I got hurt.  I was most relieved to find out it was the egg lady.  At some point he was going to find out and now, I'm feeling like this was the best way... because it was told to him from a place of real happiness for me and my husband and not from a place of gossip like I had originally thought it was.  

I can't stand it when people stir the pot on purpose, but when people are just expressing sincere joy, I think that's a good thing.  She's a really lovely egg lady.  

SOMEONE OWES ME AN APOLOGY

Someone owes me an apology.

I got a text from my father today.  He said someone told him at today's Realtor meeting that I was pregnant.  He wished me congratulations and said I'd be a great mom.

My father and I don't speak.  This is known quite well within the greater community.  We don't speak because my father chose to be a shit of a human being at several points in the last decade.  These choices of his weren't things like saying the wrong thing or being late to something important.  His choices were big, hurtful ones.  The week of my wedding he told my then future husband he didn't care if he made me cry on my wedding day ruining the wedding... he would do as he pleased.  He called me ungrateful because I wouldn't work for the family business for free a couple years before that.  When he found out I had an abortion in my early 20's he accused me of murdering his grandchild... giving no regard to how my decision might have not been an easy one for me.  When my mom got sick with cancer and we thought she might die, he said, "I don't do sick people."  After 30 years of marriage he didn't do sick people.  The day I got my cancer diagnosis he had to get back to a luncheon with a client.  I was 12.

Over and over, for 30 years I gave this man an opportunity to be there as my dad.  I loved him.  I cherished him.  I made an effort to include him in my life.  I morned for years the loss of my relationship with him.  I made every effort to stay connected, to talk to him about how if he didn't choose differently I would get to the decision to no longer have him in my life.  It wasn't a threat.  It was always a pleading to please step up as a man, as my dad.  He never did.

My children will never know this man.  I've worked really hard to create a life for my children that is filled with love and peace.  They will be surrounded by good people who may not be perfect but they will be present.  They will hold their hands and hearts through all that life is sure to send their way.  I am proud of the Framily my husband and I have created for my children.

It's taken us four years, a lot of doctor's appointments and a little help from fertility treatments to get me pregnant.  It's MY pregnancy.  I'm the one having the baby.  I'm the one with the sore boobs, the trips to the bathroom, the weekly appointments to one of a number of medical support people making sure this pregnancy is happy and healthy.  This pregnancy is my news... not yours.

I have no idea who it was that went to my father and told him I was pregnant but whomever you were, you didn't have my permission.  It upset me so very much at a time when I don't need to be upset.  You owe me and my husband an apology.  Me getting a text made a mess out of both of us.
That text reminded me of how unloved I have been by him.  I was reminded of all the ways I needed him to be a dad and all the ways he failed me.  My husband was reminded of how he was told the week before my wedding that it was of no concern to my father if he ruined our wedding.

If I had wanted my father to know I was pregnant, I would have told him myself.  He is not invited into my life and you invited him in.  Why would you do that?  My life is mine, not yours.  Your thoughtlessness has had me crying all morning and for what...?  I hope you have the decency and maturity to apologize.  You owe me an, "I'm sorry," because let me tell you, you can't undo it.

I will forever miss my dad.  I will forever love my dad.  And I will always know he didn't love me.  You had no business telling him my good news.  Learn from this and after you apologize to me and my husband, shut your mouth when it comes to other people's news.

I’ve given myself some time to think about it and I came to the decision that I’m not doing Lent this year.  For many of my friends and community, Lent is a time of prayer, penance, repentance, atonement and a time to give up something.  This giving up of certain luxuries is part of a solemn reflection recalling the sacrifice, the death and ultimately resurrection of Jesus.  There are beautiful rituals and lovely traditions that happen during this period in the liturgical calendar.  Even for people who don’t attend church often, it’s a time of year where they get to press the reset button.  

In many ways I feel like the traditions and rituals of Lent no longer fit with the relationship I have with the Devine.  I’m sure this is in large part because of all I’ve been through.  Cancer, a near fatal accident at the age of 12, liver failure, facial paralysis, parents nearly dying and then going crazy, multi million dollar law suits, homelessness… these were all things that had me on my knees begging for a little gentleness. 

And then that prayer was answered when Jack came along.  When I married Jack the one vow he asked me to promise him was that I would endeavor to be happy.  I’ve really worked hard, daily, to honor that request and my promise.  This path of choosing happiness doesn’t always sit well with other people.  That's been sobering.  I am, however, learning that other people’s opinion of me and how I live my life is really none of my business.  What is my business is our home which is peace-filled... and my husband, who is content, and our life... which is full of blessings.  

I have no desire to give anything up this year.  A lot of people give up sweets or something food related.  Since I’m trying to have a better relationship with food, one that's not so adversarial, I decided I would just continue to work on awareness like I have been for a couple months now.  This seems to be benefitting me (currently I'm over 10 pounds down from Christmas).  I have no desire to add anything either.  Sometimes folks will suggest an alternative for Lent and rather than giving something up, add something like meditation, community service, or a new habit you've been wanting to work on.  Yeah, I’m already working on stuff.  A lot of stuff. 

So I'm gonna sit this one out.  I think God will gladly write me a free pass.  

Let there be peace... or at least less mess

This week could have sucked.  In fact, parts of it did.  But more of it didn't.  I could have canceled the two dinner parties and stayed in bed on Sunday morning instead of going to church.  But more than wallowing in self pity (however justified) I instead surrounded myself with love.  I laughed.  I ate good food.  Friends let me bend their ear.  I didn't pretend like everything was "fine, fine, fine..." and yeah, I cried a lot, but I also didn't let the world end...

because it didn't end...

It is with a grateful heart that I begin this next week.  Yeah, I'm raw, and really irritated that I have no say in how some of this nonsense goes down... 

... but what I can do... and more importantly, what I will do is put one foot in front of the other towards the life I endeavor to have with my husband - a life over-flowing with love...

... and filled with peace.

I made a New Year's resolution!

I'm fat.  I'm 35 years old and this is the first year I can say that sentence without one ounce of icky feelings attached to it.  "I'm fat" feels like I'm telling you we have two fish and two frogs and a bunny who adores bananas.  It doesn't feel like a curse.

Finding peace with this fact is the result of all the work we have done this past year on our finances.  I know, it's weird.  Who would guess that setting financial goals would have such an effect?  It wasn't just the setting of goals, however... it was the honesty, it was the process.

For the last six months my husband and I have tracked nearly every penny spent.  We decided together how much we would save, when we would spend and what we would buy.  We were honest.  Oh my goodness, we were honest.  We wrote it all down in a spreadsheet I am so proud of (it should be framed really).  We planned for things we knew were coming up like insurance and rent and we had savings for the occasions that were surprises - like the parking ticket I got that I forgot to pay.

A college degree from NYU always made me feel like I should be better at finances.  I excel at math so I knew understanding math wasn't the problem.  The problem was and is that finances are not just about math, at least not for me.  Finances are all muddled up with emotions, expectations, commitments, and requirements.  - And so is food!!!

My husband and I were having dinner recently and he asked me if I could change one thing about my life, with the snap of my fingers, what would I change.  I said I'd be thin.  I was taken aback by my response because it was the first time I didn't feel self loathing.  I wasn't 25 wishing I was thin so I could fit into a size 4 skirt.  I know, I know, changing my appearance certainly sounds like self loathing if not a mid-life crisis, right?  Hear me out though...

I want(ed) to be thin not to fit into someone else's version of the ideal woman, I want(ed) to be thin because we want a baby and right now, being fat isn't the ideal for that.  Can I get pregnant?  Sure.  It would be a bit more complicated because I'm fat at the moment but fat people get pregnant all the time.

Not one to usually set New Year's resolutions, this year, I felt inspired.  I have resolved to be thin.  Doing all that financial planning showed me I can be debt free, own a house, have savings... and be thin.  For the first time in my life that feels reasonable.  

Why do I want to be thin? Because I do.  That is reason enough, isn't it?  A baby, fabulous clothes, and a long life with my love are really good reasons too.   As with the finances, being aware will really help me - being aware of what I eat, how much I exercise, how I feel; all these help me have a better relationship with my own health.  And now I'm putting it out there.  I'm telling people I'm working on being thin because "they" say writing these things down helps keep it in focus and helps one actually accomplish the goal.

I figure I've been in debt longer than I've been fat so with persistence I'll be thinner sooner rather than later.  Cheers to a New Year!

Commitment

I did it.  I committed.

When we moved into our new house I put all the pictures and art in the hallway.  Maybe if I saw it daily I would figure out where I wanted the pieces to go.  I have a patient husband who lets me think... for eight months... without complaining...

The problem I have with hanging pictures and art, is placement.  I can lay stuff out on the floor and like it but I can't "see" it on the wall.  I can measure and measure again but inevitably I'll put the nail in a slightly wrong spot.  I then chase down that right spot but not before I find a few more wrong spots.  The poor wall.

There had to be a better way.  Today I wanted to commit.  I decided to use newspaper pieces to help me "see" the pictures on the wall.  I also was able to put a dot on the spot where the nail needed to go.  Jack was impressed.

This was actually the final configuration.  I had thought of a different arrangement at first.  When I put the papers up on the wall there was too much white space.  When I liked the configuration, I nailed the picture hangers in place with the newspaper still on the wall.  Once the nails were in place I removed the papers.  And here's my final result...

I really like the art up on the wall.  What I appreciate almost just as much is that behind those pictures is one nail in one proper hole.  No one will ever look behind those pictures but that doesn't really matter to me... because I know.

Now what are we going to put up on the hallway?...

I am a Fat Ballerina

I was wedding shoe hunting today and walked into a dance store - you know, the type of store where tutus and leg warmers are sold.  I walked in and I was looking at the cute leotards, adult sized one.  


This skinny chic walks up to me and says, "Can I help you with something?"  
I said, "Yeah, I'm looking for dancing shoes."  
She responded with, "Yeah, you don't look like a ballerina."  
To which I responded, "Actually I'm a fat ballerina... now that I've disclosed that I'm fat, can you please show me your shoes?" She looked embarrassed.  


She shows me the shoes and I ask for a particular style and my size.  Her boss follows her to the back.  She comes out without a box of shoes and her boss announces they don't have that shoe in my size.  


"Have you thought about this shoe instead?"  the boss asked.  
"Yes, briefly, before I asked for the other shoe," I said.  
"Well you can't wear that shoe outside even if we had it in your size."

So at this point I got mad... "You know, if I bought that shoe I'm pretty sure I could wear it outside, because it would be my shoe..."

"I'm sorry..." she said.

"I'm fat." I said.

I left. I found my lovely shoes at Macys.

I'm still fat.