Day 14: Project 365

I just started a new project - again. I can just picture the look on Tony's face when he gets home and sees yet another pile of yarn in the house! I have to chuckle. I'm starting this for a baby gift for my cousin's wife who is due in the next few days. Thank goodness it's working up quicker than I thought! She doesn't know if she's having a boy or a girl yet. If the baby is a girl, I'll finish off the bunny with a pink bow and a tiny flower at her ear, if it's a boy, I have some great brown and light blue ribbon to tie around it's neck. I also have another half-finished baby blanket that is green, beige and pink that will finish up quickly if the baby is a girl - she may get that instead. I'm sure I'll figure it out!

My tall order

In July of 2007, I had been on my own for a few months and was starting to settle into my new single life. My confidence was beginning to peep through my rock-hard shell and I felt that I could possibly start dating a bit. The idea at first was to see if there were any truly kind men out there. I had a lot of baggage and I needed to pick the right one this time. I promised myself that unless I had a crystal clear picture of who this man was that I would NOT introduce Payton to him. He would get grilled and roasted over the fire before I would let him near my beautiful baby.

At first, I thought I would tap back into the potentially safe and familiar and went out with my college sweetheart a few times. It was crazy fun and probably what I needed at the time, but I ended up getting hurt again in my discovery of why exes should remain exes. This is not to say he is a bad person, it was simply that we were not in the same place in our minds and mannerisms because of the life experiences we had in the fifteen years since we had last been dating. I needed much more than he was able to give emotionally and Payton was just too much for him. He couldn't accept the fact that I had a child from another relationship. There were a lot of "if only" statements that flew through our conversations. I couldn't be there for him to figure it out, so it was time to move on. I truly do wish him well. He deserves to be happy and I hope he will be able to find it.

I tried a few other dates, but wasn't having any luck. At all. Remind me sometime to tell you my Match.com horror stories! Raw Internet dating like that is NOT the place to look for a serious relationship when you have a gaping wound hanging about for the world to see. In fact, I finally did decide to take a break from dating. My psyche just could not take any more nibbly, shallow, horny fish in that vast dating pond. Done.

So at the suggestion of a dear friend, I made a wish list in early November 2007. I made a no-holds barred list of the 101 things I wanted in a man. It was a purging of all of my desires and needs and wants for what I went without for over a decade. I decided that I wasn't going to compromise on ANYTHING. Not one single thing. I pulled from my heart using my brain as a guide. What kind of a man would be best for me and my child? What kind of man would I like to grow old with? What kind of man do I want to share my life with? It's a HUGE deal to get it right. I didn't want to mess up yet again.

So I formulated him on paper. I became the architect of my future. This was MY list. MY desires and needs and wants that best fit what I felt was the best relationship possible for Payton and I. This person would never be taken for granted and I would tell him every single day how much I appreciated him for being who he is. I wanted everything out on the table. Nothing hidden or colored or made up to be prettier than what it was.

The interesting thing is that it took me less than an hour to do this. I knew where I had been and I knew where I wanted to go. So I put it all out there and sent it off into the great beyond.

I have to add that Tony meets every single one of these criteria and then some. It took less than three months for me to find him. Actually - he found me. I think that's pretty amazing.

Here is my list. This list is specific to me and my own life experiences, no one else's.

1. Mutual respect.
2. Sense of humor, but not sarcastic.
3. Can cook.
4. Is understanding.
5. Realizes that I have feelings and they are important.
6. Supports me in my endeavors.
7. Is my cheerleader.
8. Is a great sounding board.
9. Does not try to "fix" me.
10. Lets me make my own mistakes and still loves me.
11. Can just be quiet with me.
12. Loves my child.
13. Sees himself as an equal to me.
14. Can take charge when I need him to.
15. Understands my sense of humor.
16. Is OK with the fact that i do not want to give birth to any more children.
17. Has an open mind.
18. Is willing to talk - even about painful things in the past.
19. Makes me smile.
20. Knows what the hell they are doing in bed.
21. Keeps me interested in what is going on in that bed.
22. Will rub my back.
23. Lets me baby him a bit.
24. Appreciates the things I do for him.
25. Opens my door.
26. Tells me I'm beautiful.
27. He needs to be a man I can see myself with 50, 60, 70 years from now.
28. Has similar interests to mine.
29. Does not poo poo alternative medicine.
30. Believes in the power of a calm mind and a strong body.
31. Makes me laugh.
32. Lets me cry on his shoulder when I need to.
33. Doesn't judge me for doing so.
34. Tells me everything will be OK.
35. Likes sushi.
36. Doesn't drive a sports car.
37. Has no desire to.
38. Puts more value on the mind and body than on material things.
39. Has a great relationship with his family.
40. No drugs. This includes tobacco of any kind.
41. Little or no alcohol.
42. No desire to sky-dive or drive a crotch-rocket.
43. Doesn't think my choice of music is strange.
44. Is patient.
45. Is kind.
46. Is attractive - I don't care what color hair or eyes - just that he can be attractive in all aspects including personality.
47. Has a personality.
48. Is well liked by his peers.
49. He is not a frat boy in his 30s or his 40s.
50. Likes chocolate.
51. Can sit and talk about nothing and everything over coffee.
52. If he has kids that they are a top priority for him.
53. Likes dogs.
54. He can like cats, but more than one is too many.
55. He is fun to travel with from weekend road trips to serious travel abroad.
56. NO GOLF.
57. Must be creative.
58. Must appreciate food as art and is able to linger over it.
59. Is not afraid of commitment.
60. Is willing to own his own faults.
61. is willing to say "I'm sorry" when it is warranted.
62. Is not impulsive but still can be spontaneous.
63. Values my opinion.
64. Will make decisions with me.
65. Is not foolish with money.
66. Balances my Yin.
67. Likes that I am a brunette.
68. Doesn't want to change that.
69. Loves every inch of me.
70. Can play.
71. Can calm me when I get frustrated.
72. Helps with housework and doesn't think that it is a woman's place to do it all.
73. I like his friends too.
74. Is genuinely happy for me when I do well.
75. I need a Zen type man.
76. Not a police officer, fireman or military man - nothing in a uniform with a badge or stripes. No way.
77. Is proud to be with me.
78. I am proud to be with him.
79. Does not use his past as a sorry-ass excuse for his behavior today.
80. Can branch out beyond mid-west meat and potatoes.
81. Has patience enough for a Costco run on a Saturday afternoon.
82. He is man enough to hold my purse for me when necessary.
83. NO World of Warcraft. No no no no no no.
84. We are excited to see each other at the end of the day.
85. Loves Hawaii.
86. He will listen to me and respect my opinion.
87. Has a stable job.
88. Is not afraid to act like an idiot or look silly for a laugh.
89. Is secure and self-confident.
90. And that is not measured by the size of his wallet, car, portfolio or job description.
91. Has to sleep in bed and not on the couch.
92. Appreciates a good snuggle session.
93. Great kisser.
94. Is unique in his own way and is proud of it.
95. Puts me first and allows me to put him first.
96. Can spend a day strolling through museums and shops.
97. Isn't afraid to try new things.
98. Loves the rain.
99. He must be able to let me mean as much to him as he means to me.
100. He has to pass the "mom" test.
101. He needs to be able to let me be me. Period.

Day 13: Project 365

Yes, again. Same settings in Hipstamatic. I love how this app can make even the most mundane of things look all artsy-fartsy.

This past Saturday, my oldest step-baby was in his mother's production of "The Importance of Being Earnest". The productions take place in a warehouse where part of it has been converted into a makeshift theatre. The image is of some of the backdrop and lighting rigging that has been hung from the structure above.

This particular play is near and dear to my heart and one of my favorites. G did a wonderful job as did the other kids in the production.

Day 12: Project 365

My favorite guy.

Little pinches

How does one co-parent with an ass?

This is a question that I'm working on answering, not that there is necessarily a good answer. The thing is that no matter what I do or say or how much I ignore him or attempt to be relatively kind to him, he will always find fault, he will never apologize, he will always be petty, he will constantly try to put me on the defense and try to make me miserable, he will pick and criticize and show his backside no matter what. This is what I know. If I give in to it, he is winning.

I guess the best way to describe it is to picture yourself sitting in a bright, sunny garden. You are happy, laughing, calm, peaceful. You can hear a gentle breeze and the birds twittering outside. A fountain bubbles. All is well with the world. And then you hear something. It starts as a nagging buzz from a distance. You know something is coming. You can't quite see it, but you know something is there on the other side of the wall. Muffled, subdued, but angry nonetheless. You try to ignore it and whatever it is senses that you are and it decides to get louder. Then the sound changes to a naggy, plucky gray twang. Your teeth start to vibrate. You move your chair to the other side of the garden, but it follows. It follows, wanting you to come seek it out, to pay attention to it. You know better than to do that, but it's very hard not to. Finally, you go and look over the wall and scan the ground. Nothing. But out of the corner of your eye, you see a flash of a leopard tail with those same damn spots that were there before. Or sometimes you see a clown. All dressed up with the red nose and the big floppy collar and shoes with the tiny car pulling up behind. Finger pointing, the sick grin on his face.

So the solution? Build a higher wall? I don't know if that's the best way to deal with the leopard and the three ring circus. It's not fair to Payton and all that achieves is blocking out my own light. I have to keep an open line of communication with his father. I can only imagine the future ramifications for our child if I do not. Build a cage? A jail cell? That won't work either. Then I'm the bad guy again. I could keep looking for a new garden, but that would mean that I need to uproot myself to accommodate him and that goes completely against what I am trying to achieve here. Armour would be hot and hard to move about in, a big hammer is out of the question. A fly swatter?

Maybe earmuffs. Selective earmuffs. Or turn myself into a duck in my mind on such occasions and let all of the BS just roll off.

Right now there is just not a good answer other than the knowledge that Payton loves me and now his schedule is more consistent and that he is happy. That is what matters.

In cases of abuse, it is so hard to maintain the level of vulnerability necessary to achieve successful co-parenting. It was that same vulnerability that opened the door to the nightmare in the past. I want to be able to communicate with him for Payton's sake, but I then risk having my good will twisted around my neck and becoming the noose that he tries to hang me with. It's already happened on several occasions. He picks and pinches and pokes. I try to step away and avoid it, and it still comes back to bite. Some days it hurts more than others. Sometimes I can laugh and shrug and let him be the leopard and the clown without it affecting me, but other days I can feel my skin boil.

Hopefully over time this will get easier. He will do what he does and I need to keep moving forward, kicking off the mud and picking up the pieces as I go.

Day 11: Project 365

Yesterday was my beloved's 36th birthday. I made him a super duper amazing dark chocolate cake with dark chocolate buttercream icing all from scratch! No box job here...

Again: Hipstamatic app with John S lens and Ina 1969 film.

Day 10: Project 365

Hooray for the iPhone! This is a shot of our headboard and bedding. I used the Hipstamatic application: John S lens and Ina's 1969 film. This bedding was the first purchase I made after I left my ex. Golden yellow and cool blue gray paisley.

Day 9: Project 365

Enjoying the sun after ball chasing at the local tennis courts.

A little anxiety

In my ex's attempt to continue to control me, he requested that I undergo a Court Ordered Vocational Evaluation. (Insert eerie music here...)

February 29th, 2008 was the last day of my employment at the Interior Design firm that I had worked at for seven years. I was terminated because I was "circling the toilet" and that I would do better "working part-time at Ethan Allen". Nice. This, after busting my ass for this company for years. I was a single mom who had to drive an hour in rush hour traffic both ways to pick up and drop off at daycare and that was not acceptable even with working from home after hours. But OK. No problem. I had several interviews set up and I was in the process of trying to start my own interior design company. Unfortunately, this was the beginning of the recession and it turned out the the construction and interior design industries were really the sorry lumps circling the toilet. The jobs in interior design were few and far between and either I was over-qualified, the job was not in my area of expertise and every single one had a stack of 50 resumes in the file with more coming in every day. They were not interested in hiring a single mom of a special needs child who needed to come and go to drop off and pick up from preschool four days a week. They wanted fresh new meat that they could work until bleeding and would accept an annual salary of $27,000.00 with no over-time.

So. Time for PLAN B.

I have always wanted to be a nurse. I looked into nursing schools, but the time commitment and the tuition were just too great. I looked at getting my Master's Degree in Oriental Medicine & Acupuncture. Again - the costs were astronomical and it would be three years of my life that I really needed to dedicate to my then two year old, developmentally delayed little boy. Brainstorm. What could I do that would earn a respectable and responsible wage that I could schedule around Payton's preschool and his schedule? What could I do that would bring my insanely high stress level down so I could be a functional happy parent to my baby? I chose Massage Therapy. I could get my license and get to work making around $40.00 to $60.00 an hour plus tips and commission or I could work on my own for substantially more. I could bring home enough money to pay the bills, save up for a home and still have the freedom of scheduling to benefit Payton. Perfect.

Unfortunately, the ex does not think so. He feels that since I have a degree in Interior Design that that is the field that I need to be working in. I have a little bit of news for him. There are ZERO interior design jobs available in the San Diego area. Can I just say that again? Z. E. R. O. Big zilch. None. Nada. Nothing. Not on CalJOBS.com, not on Monster.com, not on InteriorDesignJobs.com, not on Craigslist.com. But guess what??? My last search for Massage Therapy positions revealed 140 of them. Let me spell that out. One hundred and forty Massage Therapy positions are available. I'm sorry. I made the right choice.

So back to this Court Ordered Vocational Evaluation...

It's scheduled for April 27th. I have to go meet with an evaluator who is supposedly this amazing guru of the job search. I have no doubt that is the case and I will walk in to that appointment with my head held high and an open mind. My lawyer is actually stoked for me to go. He said to be as honest as possible.

So what's the hang up here, you ask? What's the deal? Why the anxiety?

There are pages and pages of forms to fill out. I need to give her copies of my resumes and my tax returns. I need to turn in my job search records. I have to give her a picture? Huh? I have to list what my "standard of living" was when I was married and I have to say what I think I can do to make my standard of living the same now as it was then.

Fine. I have perfectly poised and professional resumes for both Interior Design and Massage Therapy and all of my completed marketing collateral and my Menu of Services. I have my job searches and contacts. I have a stellar photo of myself. I have my school transcripts and the contacts where I have been working on a shift basis in Massage Therapy. Tax returns? No problem. The sticking point comes with this "standard of living" thing. Really?

What defines a Standard of Living? I think it is a completely personal choice. For my ex, everything is about "looking good". The nice car with the GPS and leather interior, the $1,900.00 a month apartment, spending over $1000.00 a month on food, eating out and entertainment, the designer clothing, rounds of golf at the best courses, sending your child to full-time daycare and having a stranger raise him instead of his mother. It's all a veneer to cover up the mess behind it.

For me, not so much. I prefer a more simple approach. I am able to budget and live within my means. My wealth is not measured by dollars in the bank. It's measured in my ability to clip coupons, to feed a family of five for under $300.00 a month, to find the best deals and to live without the material excess. I drive a used Volvo. I have three payments left and I'm proud of that. I buy off the sale rack at Target and shop at the outlet malls for the kids. I love Costco. My wealth comes from seeing Payton blossom and thrive and grow within the circle of his FAMILY. To see his anxiety level drop by volumes over the past few weeks when he doesn't have to go to the sitter's house. To see him excited to spend time with mama and be happy to see daddy.

Do I want to work? The answer to that question is a resounding YES!!! I sure as hell do. I love having the feeling of happiness when I am able to coax the knots out of a first time mama's shoulders, to ease away the stiffness from a 80 year old great-grandmother's hands, to teach a wonderfully amazing handicapped woman some arm stretches so they don't hurt when she is helping her mother bake cookies, to work the legs of a dancer, to calm the addict, to ease the CEO. I love what I do!

But Payton will always come first. What in the world is wrong with that? He needs his mama. He's insanely sensitive and his biggest hangup and cause for his anxiety is being left behind. He obsesses about it. I can't even express how much it kills me to see him rage when I tell him he has to go to the baby sitter's house after a busy day at school.

My ex will never see it like that. He just sees that he has to pay me more Child Support. He intimidated and threatened me into accepting less than half of guideline support per month when I was making $64,000.00 a year. Now he's paying me more than before and he's Pissed. Oh... and that Pissed with a capital P. So this is why he wants me to do the Vocational Evaluation. His hope is that the evaluator will deem that I am able to earn $64,000.00 a year and that the child-support amount will be re-figured with me earning over $5000.00 a month rather than what I am currently earning on Unemployment. He even paid for the evaluation without and expectation of a reimbursement from me. He has gotten away with paying a laughable sum for over two years and it's time it stopped, but he's going to try one more time.

I just hate that I feel like I have to defend myself yet again. If the payment amount changes some, I'm OK with that, but he will pay guideline support. Even if it is re-figured with a higher potential salary for me, the Child Support payment will still more than double what it is now. Money was never my motivation, but I do feel that he needs to step up and do the right thing for Payton. My motivation has always been to provide a stable and consistent environment for Payton during the school week. No more ping-pong ball with up to four transfers a day. Our new Child Sharing percentage is 61/39 and it was 60/40 before. He's acting as if I'm "tearing his son away from him". Please.

Day 8: Project 365

Just something fun in stockinette stitch. Eventually it will be a long many-colored wrap. After blocking, I'm guessing it will be about 24" wide by hopefully 66" long or so. I'm working with Berroco Ultra Alpaca on size 8 bamboo knitting needles. Love it. Right now I have a great vibrant eggplant color, a refreshing variegated green and a killer pumpkin orange. The goal is to have about seven colors in total - I'm buying a new skein every few weeks or so. I would like to add a golden yellow, a deep red, a rich teal blue and a bright acid green - all great autumn colors. All the stripes are random in width. I think the orange stripe I'm working on will be much wider than the green. The goal of this wrap is to be simple in shape, but fun and unpredictable in the pattern. The edges will remain curled after blocking which is what I want. It will look smashing with jeans, boots and a simple cream sweater in the fall, which is probably when I will have it finished!

Day 7: Project 365

Today after school, we went for a walk in the eucalyptus grove that is just down the street from our home. Such a beautiful sunny day.

Apparently, this piece of property is a hot ticket at city council meetings. For decades, the local people have been walking here with their children and dogs. Thousands of memories have been made. About a year ago, a company from Nevada came and bought it up, put up a big black fence around it and now rumor has it that they are planning on either building a church or an adult day-care center here. Many folks are up in arms about it and there have been public protests. It remains to be seen what the fate of this beautiful and peaceful place will be.

Breaking the Silence

Monday after I wrote my post on abuse, I decided to Google "verbal abuse blogs". In the past ten years I had never done this - even if I had, I don't think I would have been ready to take in what the Internet had to offer up. What I found just about blew me out of my chair. Right there. On my screen. My words, but from another woman's mind. My eyes were opened wide and my mouth hung open. To say that I was dumbfounded is quite the understatement.

Blog entry after blog entry was filled with the conversations I had had with my abuser. Near verbatim. Every lie, every put-down, every back-handed slash to the spirit. Even down to the merry-go-round tactics of manipulation and twisting words into making their prey feel crazy and cornered. Everything.

The biggest thing that got me was this quote from You are Not Crazy, which is unfortunately not active anymore.

This website is wholly, compassionately dedicated to the women

who have fought to love and understand

in total solitude

the men that

rage at them, call them names, criticise their mistakes, joke about their insecurities, mock their interests, trivialize their pain, yell at them suddenly, threaten them with their deepest fears and tell them that they deserve it.

Then to top it all off,

he steadfastly denies it all,

as he masterfully charms everyone he meets,
just like he did to her when they first met.

Wow. Just wow.

In reading blog entries from other women over the past few days, I have found it was extremely liberating and calming to know that there are many more out there like me who have endured the cycle of abuse and have broken free. To read about their lives in such a raw fashion was definitely an eye-opening experience. So in the hopes that I will be able to help another woman find some peace - even if it is just one - I will reveal some of my experiences here on my own blog. I don't want this to be the focus of Building the Muse, but it will definitely be a significant part. All posts on abuse will be labeled with "Ghosts" for an easy search.

Again and again I read that silence is the best way to support an abuser. So gloves off. I will never name him for his own privacy, but many readers who know me will know.

Day 6: Project 365

The boy has requested an orange octopus. Three legs down and five to go. Lion Brand Vanna's Choice #134 Terracotta, Size G hook. I still have to figure out what I would like to do for the eyes. Hopefully I can finish the last five legs during his nap today.

Day 5-A: Project 365

OK. I figured out how to transfer my photos from my iPhone to my computer. And I did it without tangling up my system in the process.

After I picked Payton up from school today, we took a little trip to the beach. It was rather chilly and windy, so we stayed clear of the ocean. The booty for the day included a flat grey rock, a hand full of colorful striped seashells and the perfect sand-digging stick that Payton is so artfully playing with above.

Oh... Surfers are crazy. Just sayin'.

Wherein I speak about abuse

Emotionally, mentally, verbally, physically, sexually.

For years I hid it. I know what happened to me was just a fraction of what other women suffer, but it was enough to turn me inside out, upside down and twist me all around to a point where I did not recognize myself anymore. Some days I wished he would just haul off and hit me. It would have been easier to leave.

Verbal abuse is an odd one. It can be covered up as a joke and it can be hidden from public view. It becomes his word against yours. It does not show itself in big ugly bruises on the skin and it cannot be treated in the Emergency Room. It is next to impossible to file for a restraining order because no one ever witnesses it. It's easy to cover up for a while. It can have you feeling like it is all your fault. You blame yourself. I sure did. If only I tried harder. If I only woke him up the right way. If I could do the dishes like he wants me to do or fold his laundry with the creases in the right place.

The first time it happened, I was completely shocked. It cut so deep and so quick that I didn't know how to react. After the initial shock wore off, I was able to question what happened, but that's when the game started. The reason for his outburst was caused by me. It was my fault. Now never having been spoken to that way in my LIFE, of course I questioned it. I didn't want to keep bringing it up with him because I was only perpetuating the problem... making it go around and around in circles. So I learned to keep my mouth shut and sweep it all under the rug. I then bent over backwards and walked on eggshells so that it wouldn't ever happen again.

The hook had been cast.

There would be about a three month honeymoon period and then it would happen again. This time worse. Again my fault. Again. And again. And again. After it happens enough, you start to believe it. You start to think that you are worthless, selfish, self-centered, smug, fat, a liar, rude, stupid, a cunt, a bitch, disgusting, a whore. And then I was chastised for not doing enough for him. Really? I didn't want to be anywhere near him. I learned to keep my distance to keep the abuse from happening. But it still did. And it was still my fault.

And then I was punished for it. He would go out and drink. He knew I hated it. He isolated me. He used his abusive nature to shove his own alcohol problem down my throat. My fault. What I did or didn't do made him go and drink. Nice. And what did I do? I covered for him. I would drive him places for him to drink. I would push my plans aside. I would pick him up from strip clubs and bars in the middle of the night. I even picked him from from a hotel when I was sick with pneumonia. I broke plans with my family because I was embarrassed to have him at family functions and holiday gatherings. I never brought him around my friends. I even lost friends because of him.

Verbal abuse then branches out. It takes a toll on you emotionally and physically. You begin to isolate yourself beyond what he is doing to you. You begin to get sick. The toll that it takes on your body is just unbearable. That is where the physical abuse and sexual abuse take a step into the picture. By this time you are so worn down to a pulp that you do not want to even bear the thought of getting into bed with your "husband". He gets angry. He blames his impotence on you when you know full well it's the alcohol and his own mental issues. He can jack off to porn on the computer, but when he tries to have sex with you, he can't get it up. He makes darn sure that you know that and leaves the lotion and the rag out for you to see. Again - your fault. You get pushed, shoved and forced. Of course it's never enough for you to go to the police over. Just below the threshold. He reminds you that he can pass a lie detector test if he has to take one. He reminds you that he is capable of killing you. He reminds you that he is a sniper and can shoot someone in the skull from over 500 yards away.

Afraid to go to the police? Yep. Absolutely. Afraid to tell anyone? Yeah.

For the better part of my marriage, nobody knew what was going on. My mother had an inkling and I spoke to my best friend about it. All I could do at that point was rationalize it and make excuses. I believed in my marriage vows. Never mind that he had broken them almost from the get-go, but I didn't see that until much later. I didn't want to check the "Divorced" box on applications. I didn't want to raise my son alone.

But I did get out.

It took a long time to be able to recognize the woman in the mirror again, but I can see myself again. And that is for another entry.

Day 5: Project 365

Our big dog. He went to the vet yesterday because his back feet are a mess. They are red and swollen and itchy. The vet took skin scrapings and determined that it was most likely some sort of contact allergy. He now on 14 days of antibiotics and an antihistamine. Poor thing. His insides are going to be all wonky. Sadness.

Sorry - again. Didn't take this photo today - nor did I take the photo! This one is Tony's but is very appropriate for today so I thought I would use it. For some reason when I e-mail photos from my iPhone, they can only be saved as "Scrap". That doesn't do me any good! Tony is the technical wizard in our household and hopefully he can teach me how to download them through iTunes. I'm clueless and afraid I'm going to mess something up that can't be fixed.

Day 4: Project 365

I know. I didn't take this picture yesterday. It's from a few weeks ago, but I had to share. Tony and I packed up the kids and the dog and headed to Julian for a picnic and some snow. Bonsai had a blast.

Day 3: Project 365

Cool, dry weather means much static.

Day 2: Project 365

This is a few days late. I was experiencing technical difficulties getting the image off of my iPhone.

This lovely dino pile is from Friday. Payton loves to "play with animals". This usually ends up in the mountain of plastic that I snapped the photo of. Friday was a rough day for me health-wise, but we managed to have a good time despite the kidney stones.

Really, life?

I know, I know, I know. Things could be a lot worse. A lot. I get it. But kidney stones SUCK.

I was diagnosed as having kidney stones during an ER visit in the wee hours of Thursday morning last week. Apparently, there is only one left and it's around 4mm in diameter. So here it is over a week later and I'm still trying to pass this darn thing. Since it's only (only) 4mm, the docs can't do anything and it should pass within two week. Great. So at this point I have to be hemorrhaging or have a raging kidney infection to get any additional help beyond painkillers and advice to drink tons of water. OK. Great. So my life is on hold until this tiny ball of calcified pee plaque passes.

Helpful ER tip: if you go between the hours of 3 and 4 AM, there is no wait and the sense of humor of the staff is great. They even had me laughing through the pain. It could have been the Dilaudid they gave me, but I did appreciate smiling faces and the more relaxed atmosphere.

I was planning on going to aqua aerobics this morning. I love this class at my gym. I'm the only one there under 55 and I love it. Senior citizens are so great to be around - I love their energy. I think they get a kick out of me being there, too. Everyone is going to have to wait for me to grace them with my presence because I can't stand up straight.

I also promised Payton a trip to the beach today. Sorry, baby boy. It's Avatar and Frosty the Snowman for you. Hopefully I can spoil the crap out of him this weekend. At least that's the goal.

Day 1: Project 365

I needed something warm and cozy. This scarf took about 2 hours to make - P hook with Lion Brand Wool Ease Thick & Quick yarn - two skeins.

Beginning the re-building

Today is a new day. I have been torn down from all directions.

I'm at rock bottom emotionally, physically and mentally. It's an effort to walk the dog. I'm winded climbing the stairs. My insides are curling up on themselves and I'm tired of it. I'm lethargic, sad, melancholy, listless, lifeless and puffy.

It would be so easy to stay like this and rot, but I can't. I would be destroying everything I have worked for up until this point in my life.

So tomorrow starts a new chapter.

I have to get out and do. Not just be. But I have to be comfortable with me and the direction I'm going, even though I feel like I'm blindfolded and hobbled. Maybe that's the best way considering I would be scared out of my gourd if I were to take a look at all of the details. I'm naturally a planner and I have to let that go. I need to see that which is in between the black and white.

I have to say that every once and a while, I see a glimmer of what I am to be. It feels like every time I reach for it my hand gets slapped. So I need to try another path of self-discovery and be willing to veer off the path of a bit. Maybe a better one will be there.