| Friday, July 17, 2009 |
| Rocky Road, but hey it's Ice Cream |
A dead end street is a good place to turn around ~Naomi Judd
Life has its own hidden forces which you can only discover by living -unknown
Thirteen months ago, The Husband found gainful employment two hours away. I got excited for a minute. "This is our second chance" he had said. We would go to counseling when we moved there, he claimed. Give it one more real try. With the stipulation that I would find some accountability there for checking in on how I was treating him. Until we all moved to Clean Slate as a family, everything was on hold. Put in a box, emotion-wise. To be continued. And we ran things on the surface, civil and family-friendly. Still no kisses or touches or real engagement of any sort.
We put our house on the market, and he left Monday through Friday. Back to Stepford on the weekends, when I would go to work. It was the best summer I can recall. I had picnics and pool days with my children. We made cards and crafts and fed the ducks and geese at the pond. We picked raspberries and blueberries multiple times. We made pies and cobblers and muffins. I read books like I used to years ago (for fun, not for crisis-save-my-marriage). I wore sundresses with no underwear. I discovered the weekly podcast of NPR's "This American Life" which I used to love to hear on NPR, but couldn't find on our radio for years. I played music with good beats and likely inappropriate lyrics for my children. But we sang and danced and ate dinners outside.
After several weeks into this, maybe a month, I recognized that on every Thursday night I would fold in on myself. Like the time-lapse photography of a blooming flower. In reverse. Because he would be coming home the next day. And Who I Am was nothing of interest to him. There was nothing between us but parenting and running the house communication. It was all very amicable mostly, but having some time to bloom alone I did not like having him around and wishing for a relationship that just wasn't. And I was discovering Me again. And that I liked who I was more than my husband did. I had forgotten myself in the maelstrom. And for years before, truth be told.
And then it was fall. House still not sold in this crap pre-election economy. So kids start school and we continue this weekly routine. Only I add the gym and running every morning after the kids are in school. More books. More podcasts like "The Moth". More candles in the house and sassy clothes purchased, not always worn. Just on hold. Less linear living. We take a stepladder to a huge apple tree in our subdivision once a week after school and fill a huge basket with them. We make cakes and pies and applesauce and share them. We 'Boo' friends houses in October with Halloween goodies, my children sneaking up to ring the doorbell and run. It was the best fall I can recall. Until each Thursday afternoon-ish, when I would shrivel back up inside. It was nothing he did when he was home; he's a basic good man and a wonderful father. It was just everything we were. And were not.
And then I f*cked up. Spectacularly. And everything imploded. So I guess in the end that's a good thing. -ish. I still haven't decided exactly in hindsight, because there was serious loss as well. Glad I am not trudging that same worn path of my hopeless marriage, but unsure if anything other than a bomb blast would have moved us on out of the building. Condemned. Been condemned. Why are you still in this building? Can you not see it's unsafe for occupancy?
A lot of my belief system is upside down in the months since, so what you read now may or may not sound like the same girl who wrote the last three years of sh!t on this blog. I cannot even go back and read all that bemoaning and angst, it's excruciating. I could trim this blog to about a third of its original ramblings and agree with those. The rest I would delete, I think. Or severely edit. But it was my torturous processing of it all, so there it sits.
I need some coffee. Or a stiff drink. Will be back with the next installment sooner than later. Promise.Labels: life in stepford, quotes |
posted by Adventures in Stepford @ 3:13 AM   |
|
|
|
| Tuesday, July 07, 2009 |
| Still Here, Different World |
Wow, has it really been over six months since you've heard from me? Really? Jesus. I can't even spend the hours it would take to update you. But oh, you know you'll get it in snippets and highlights.
Nutshell: Separated, getting Divorced. Officially since January 2nd. Truly? Years.
If my sweet children (and faux poverty) were not involved, I would be doing cartwheels.
Brutal honesty. Why did I ever marry this man? And completely lose who I am as a crazyass-yet-okay individual? Being completely "the problem" in our marriage. We are so incompatible it is insane. Oh I became the Problem all right. In spades. But that's for another episode.
So if anyone still follows this once-popular, now-neglected-as-hell blog, thanks. I'm here. Will try to get you as up to speed as possible.
But what you used to read about me and my life is completely topsy-turvy and inverted now. We have transformed into Bizarro Stepford. Buckle up.Labels: life in stepford |
| posted by Adventures in Stepford @ 8:32 PM |
|
|
|
| Sunday, December 28, 2008 |
| Flashback |
This Christmas Eve night we drove past a parking lot on our way to see Christmas lights with the kids.
It was a parking lot where, just three years prior this very month, I had hastily transferred my children, under cover of darkness, to a waiting vehicle to ferry them two hours away to my inlaws. Removing all loved ones from the Fourth Circle of Hell.
I then drove in the opposite direction for my own two hours to a waiting airplane. I flew cross-country to my husband to attempt to save my marriage, as I witnessed his affair unfold via email & Blackberry. And had no damned idea what the hell I was doing, what I would say, how I could single-handedly stop time.
So, a mere four nights ago, I once again looked out into that parking lot as it passed by on my right, and felt such compassion for the poor girl who was in a blind panic and was attempting to regain any semblance of control of her life.
I just wanted to pull into the past and climb out of my car and hug her. Tell her she couldn't get control of this. Tell her what not to do in the next three years. Tell her how to handle what was coming.
I cannot begin to explain how overcome I was in that moment; looking into the darkness and having a truly tender love for my three-year-ago self ... and the world she was about to walk through.Labels: introspection, past tense |
| posted by Adventures in Stepford @ 8:25 PM |
|
|
|
| Monday, December 01, 2008 |
| Marinating |
Okay.
I've still got a boatload of Draft contents to purge, but it's snowing in Stepford and I have some time on my hands today. I've been spending the last several hours marinating on the state of my life, my hopes, my fears, and my insecurities. And I have a good portion of each. Especially today, and I'm working through the Why in the background as I write here.
A friend of mine told me yesterday: "you should consider writing a pocket guide on the stages of an affair ... seriously, your verbage is supreme" which was soothing to my ego, especially during a weird night.
She's early on in the aftermath of her husband's affair. And being tempted by the attention of a male friend at present. And who am I to give any advice? I have failed miserably at this whole deal. Sh!t, ya'll, why do we still believe in Happy Ever After and continue keep a light on for someone, hoping they will be the one? The one who buys in. Who convinces you to buy in - again. Who loves you like crazy. Who makes it worth the wait. Who you are willing to be broken over.
If you live long enough, there's always wreckage. The degree varies, but the longer I live...
It's a testament to the human condition that we will optimistically try try again, either with 'the one who brung us', or - almost more risky at times - someone new, unknown, un-road-tested. Will your separate baggage make a matched set?
How good are the odds? (and how odd are the goods?) I'm in a bad mood today, so I'm bending more pessimistic on this one, if ya hadn't noticed.
Just how self-aware/self-actualized are you willing to become on your journey? There's no forward movement in this life or any other, if you don't do the work. And just when I pat myself on the back, some well-placed bullsh!t puts me in my place and reminds me of my shortcomings.
Oh, good lord, people. Pull on the bridle, I've gone down some random path. Sorry.
ANYWAY.
In a bit, let's back up to around mid-June of this year, when things took a slow yet sharp turn for me.
Going to go play in the snow with kids & try to shake this black cloud of ominous doom. Hang tight.Labels: life in stepford |
| posted by Adventures in Stepford @ 10:19 AM |
|
|
|
|
| Leftovers |
Once a woman has forgiven a man, she must not reheat his sins for breakfast.
-Marlene DietrichLabels: quotes |
| posted by Adventures in Stepford @ 9:14 AM |
|
|
|
| Thursday, November 27, 2008 |
| Gratitude 2008 |
Send some rain, would You send some rain?
'Cause the earth is dry and needs to drink again
And the sun is high, and we are sinking in the shade
Would You send a cloud, thunder long and loud?
Let the sky grow black, and send some mercy down
Surely You can see that we are thirsty and afraid
But maybe not, not today
Maybe You'll provide in other ways
And if that's the case . . .
We'll give thanks to You
With gratitude
For lessons learned in how to thirst for You
How to bless the very sun that warms our face,
If You never send us rain
Daily bread, give us daily bread
Bless our bodies, keep our children fed
Fill our cups, then fill them up again tonight
Wrap us up and warm us through
Tucked away beneath our sturdy roofs
Let us slumber safe from danger's view this time
Or maybe not, not today
Maybe You'll provide in other ways
And if that's the case . . .
We'll give thanks to You
With gratitude
A lesson learned to hunger after You
That a starry sky offers a better view, if no roof is overhead
And if we never taste that bread
Oh, the differences that often are between
What we want, and what we really need
So grant us peace, Jesus, grant us peace
Move our hearts to hear a single beat
Between alibis and enemies tonight
Or maybe not, not today
Peace might be another world away
And if that's the case . . .
We'll give thanks to You
With gratitude
For lessons learned in how to trust in You
That we are blessed beyond what we could ever dream
In abundance or in need
And if You never grant us peace...
But Jesus, would You ... please?
-Nichole Nordeman, GratitudeLabels: lyrical gangsta |
| posted by Adventures in Stepford @ 3:06 AM |
|
|
|
| Friday, November 21, 2008 |
| Sweet Nothings... |
More sweet little quotes from The Vault that needed a place. And a gingerbread house from two years ago...
Fear less, hope more, eat less, chew more, whine less, breathe more, talk less, say more, love more, and all good things will be yours. -Swedish Proverb
Every Christian family ought to be a little church, consecrated to Christ, and wholly influenced and governed by His rule. -Jonathan EdwardsLabels: quotes, snapshots |
| posted by Adventures in Stepford @ 11:12 AM |
|
|
|
|
| U Want Me 2 |
Ironically, the latest song by Sarah M, my bittersweet old friend:
You walk on by
Clueless and so high
Following your aimless path away from us
You're so far away
And what can I say
Cause I can't be the one you wanted me to be
So tell me how do you feel
It's so confusing
If you let it all go, it'll fall apart
Do you want me to stay and say I still want you
You want me too, don't you?
So what are we saying
Our eden's a failure
A made-up story to fit the picture-perfect world
The one with "I do"s
and "I love you"
And "we are made for each other"
Is Forever over now?
And tell me how do you feel
It's so confusing
If you let it all go, it'll fall apart
Do you want me to stay and say I still want you
You want me too, don't you?
I hope there's forgiveness
In the distance between us
Can we make what lies ahead of us a better place to be?
So tell me, how do you feel
It's so confusing
If you let it all go, it'll fall ---
Do you want me to stay and say I still want you
You want me too, don't you?
-Sarah McLachlan, U Want Me 2Labels: lyrical gangsta |
| posted by Adventures in Stepford @ 11:10 AM |
|
|
|
| Thursday, November 20, 2008 |
| Strangers |
This was back in the Big Draft folder. Sweet thought:
I watch him chat it up with the bartender, proud that he's with me, loving that the person beside me was once a stranger at a bar, too.
I love that someone who can change our lives starts as nothing more than a stranger.
-Stephanie Klein, on her husbandLabels: other people's words |
| posted by Adventures in Stepford @ 9:29 AM |
|
|
|
|
| Adventures in Stepford
|
instepford (at) gmail.com
|
| Shoutbox |
| "And now, with God's help, I shall become myself" - Soren Kierkegaard
I was damaged and hurt from the get-go. I buried it and lived on mind-numbing autopilot ... to the detriment of my life and marriage.
But everything looked good from the outside. Welcome to Stepford.
|
Previous Posts |
|
|
| Archives |
|
|
| The Background Check |
|
| The Husband's Story |
|
| The Part Where I Feel Famous |
|
Powered by |
Web Site Counters
 |
|
|
