The Basement Renovation Shuffle

Home projects are exciting and aggravating all at the same time. The excitement is in the transformation and watching the ideas you have blossom into reality. The aggravation is the displacement of most everything in your home. We are in the midst of remodeling our basement. When we bought our home it already had a small kitchen in the basement. We knew one day we would have to remodel it and the day arrived about 8 weeks ago.It’s hard to explain, but literally everything is everywhere! I have piles with piles on them that are stuffed in rooms and closets. I have a hot mess of drywall dust and paint samples and best of all a pair of my favorite shoes has dried drywall mud stuck to the soles. 

It’s a slow moving project. We hired my brother-in law to do the major things like electrical and wall building, and putting in cabinets and then my husband Mark and I fill in where we can. There is still lots to do. We still need to finish putting in the cabinets and flooring has to be put down and before the flooring we should probably get all the painting done. My brother-in-law is a busy guy. He is working several jobs at the same time, so we see him about once a week. It’s not ideal, but when he is here he works his fanny off!

I am a “a place for everything and everything in its place” kind of gal and right now everything is everyplace and its driving me nuts. I have to keep reminding myself that this is temporary. Whats happening is a good thing and we are fortunate to be able to do this, however is my sanity really worth it. I mean drywall mud is STUCK to the bottom of my shoes...GAH! We have a target date of mid November at the latest. That is when my family in Connecticut is coming for Thanksgiving so the pressure mounts each day as we creep closer and closer to that day.

I won’t lie, I am pretty mean to myself about the stuff everywhere. I keep worrying that I’m turning into a messy person. What if I become sloppy? It could happen...right? It’s a scary thought. I have all of my pantry items in one of the bedrooms and I have a drying rack for my laundry in another room. I walk into a room and immediately forget why I am in there and then turn around and walk out. Then I spend several minutes aggravated with myself for losing my marbles and walk back and forth until my memory decides to share what it was I was up to when I headed for said room. That’s called “The Basement Renovation Shuffle”. I don’t recommend learning the dance its quite draining!

My husband, Mark, recommended I get back to writing so that I can dump some of my stresses out for others to see. Perhaps someone can learn and grow from reading about my woes. If nothing else I will have a nice log of my life to reflect on when I’m finally sitting in my tidy finished basement. At least a girl can dream.

Feel The Weight

In May 2009 (ten years ago) my Mom passed away. One year later my May 2010 my Stepfather passed away and the following year May 2011 my Great Aunt Nina whom I was helping care for died at they age of 93. First of all lets talk about the elephant in the room. MAY... I honestly could not have taken one more death in May. On top of it being unbelievable, it is also the month my youngest daughter was born. That was a joyous occasion. Not so joyous was telling her on her 13th birthday that her Papa had died that very day. Kind of  dampened the mood of our young teenager.

Along with these deaths came the job of obtaining things that were meaningful family items. In the case of my Mom and My Great Aunt, there was an over abundance of items that were part of our family for generations. Quilts that my Grandma and Great Grandma had made. The chest from 100 years ago that held handmade table clothes and Quilts. A painting that a Great great aunt had painted that was handed down over and over. Fur coats, jewelry, real and not so real. Books, a set of my Grandma’s china and pictures...lots and lot of pictures. This was just the tip of the iceberg that became my weight to bare.

When Aunt Nina passed I found myself relying on people to help me figure out what to do next, that... in hind sight probably did not serve our best interests, but I already had so many items still stored in my home from my Mom that I could not bring more here.        But I did.

Now, 10 years later I feel the weight of the generations gone before me bearing down on me. I have so many items here that I feel responsible for that none of my children want. I was an only child and my two cousins live out of state and their relationships with my grandparents were not typical relationships. They had no need or desire for much that was left behind. SO here I stand buried in my family museum.

The actual weight of these things is burying me alive. I am stranded here surrounded by handmade Cathedral window quilts, books, Hand knit coats (that weigh as much as me) and so so much more. Everyone else has moved on from that 3 years of death and I am still weighed down with the responsibility of the belongings that my family left behind and the deaths. I want so much to be the girl that decides “Not my circus, not my monkey’s”. I’m not that girl.

I had teddy bears made for my 3 girls out of Grandma’s Mink coat and I’m slowly pulling out all of these items and trying to make something out of them or giving them away. Mainly right now, I’m just ready to move on. I’m tired of feeling guilty for not wanting these things and oddly I’m quite jealous of my girls who have said “No Thank you”. Our world no longer deals in heirlooms and tradition the same way. We have so much literally at our finger tips in one or two days if we want it. We can look at someone we love while talking to them on the phone or send them a message half way across the world and get a response seconds or minutes later. None of us looks back much anymore...except those of us carrying the family legacy like an anvil.

Somehow I need to separate myself from the idea that saving all of these family pieces is my job. This will not be a “POOF its gone”  kind of thing. I am pretty sure the first step to detaching from what I guess I’ll call “The Stuff” is releasing the guilt. Guilt is heavy all by it’s self so letting go of the idea that somehow I’m letting my entire lineage down by not keeping every item they left behind would be a big deal. I’m one person holding on to guilt that dates back generations. Come on, do you really think Great Great Aunt Grace is going to be mad at me when I meet her on the other side because I didn’t keep her painting? Just writing about this is making me cry, thats how bloody traumatic it is! The weight is absolutely unbearable anymore. I don’t want this actual burden in my life and I’m determined to move out from under it. I will let you know how all this turns out. For now lets assume that my new mantra should be...

“NOT MY STUFF, NOT MY PROBLEM”

Yeah...Good luck with that!

Can You Feel It?

Can you feel it too? That electricity in the air? People on edge but keeping it to themselves?Frustration that’s causing anxiety that no one talks about? I feel like we are all positioned for an intervention, but there are so many of us feeling this way that we will all end up intervening for each other and (or) ourselves. 

There is an energy at play that has us unsure of what is next and worried that whatever is next is not what we really want next, but the train has left the station and  we are on it. Do we jump off the train or ride it to the end? Do we gather together and make a plan to fight off the negative energy or fend for ourselves, fighting the anxiety bag with our emotional billy club of choice. Hiding in a glass of wine or liquor or starting a labor intense project where you hammer at the project until all you anxiety is left bruised and bloody. There is also the options to walk or run or scream your way past the anxiety sign. 

I have to tell you I am at my highest level of anxiety that I can ever remember. There are things that I can point to that seem like good reasons to be anxious, but over all I have never been one to even recognize my anxiety. I have always made my way through and back to myself without much thought. Now I stand and look about like I have lost something and I have no idea what it is. Could it be my sanity? Could my marbles actually be lost? I do know that this mornings cup of coffee I am sipping on was a really bad idea. Caffeine is anxiety in a cup. This morning I  apparently have chosen to put myself completely over the edge. TIMBERRRRRRR!

I know that there are many things I can do to calm this anxiety down,  but I had hoped that if I spent some time tumbling around in my mind, I might actually pull myself together. No such luck! I’m just as tense as when I started and no where near the exit sign. I’m going to quit while I’m ahead and declare a draw on my personal side kick anxiety...you have won this round but don’t start the count yet, I’m down but not out. 

Even though this anxiety beast is in the air it’s not gonna take me down with it. I’m going to focus on the running waters of The Deeper Pond and slowly pull myself up and out of the clutches of this beast. 

Note: I learned recently that I need to do some behind the scenes work to allow comments to     work again. In the mean time you are welcome to comment on my Instagram page Thedeeperpond.

DICTIONARY

bil·ly²

/ˈbilē/

noun

noun: billy club

1. 1. 

   short for billy goat.
2. 2. 

   NORTH AMERICAN

   a truncheon; a cudgel.

Relating in a Relationship

My husband and I have been married 27 years in September. I have lived with him longer then I have ever lived with anyone. Let that soak in...( I say this for me, not necessarily for you, gentle reader). Relationships are hard enough without taking a vow to “Love and Honor as long as you both shall live”. Honestly our vows were nothing like that. We helped define what our vows would be and we were both very happy with them. It’s the fact that now you have this one person that knows you and all your quirks and you know theirs. You work hard to keep each other happy and healthy and even sane.

Over time my relationship with my husband has changed. Not in a bad way, but it has changed. This person that knows me better then anyone has changed too. We are stronger people. We love each other more and at times...kinda hate each other too. No one can annoy you more then someone who knows you well, but decides to say and do the opposite of what your emotional ground rules allow.

I realized this morning that I have reached a point where all the subtle things I say are no longer subtle. I’m actually quite snarky and out right unkind. As I went for my morning walk (my walk is a brain detox and calorie burn event) I replayed my last few words with my hubby before he left for work and I realized what a total bitch I was. I’m not even going to pretend I was right. I was just plain mean! My question to myself was WHY?

You know how when you ask someone something over and over and they don’t do it and you finally yell at them at the top of your lungs? You know at the time you are out of line, but you can’t help it because your so darn angry and the angry doesn’t want to be stuffed inside anymore and it shoots out of you like a bullet. Well, I think this morning was my warning shot with a rubber bullet. It still hurts, but you didn’t kill anyone. Beware HUSBAND! I have all of these feelings stored in my head and heart and they are erupting. It’s not anything like I want to leave my husband, its more about needing some changes and my gentle nudging and verbal elbow jabs seem to go NO where.

We are complicated people. In some ways we are a lot alike and in many ways we are extremely different. Our childhoods are polar opposites. I’m the weird kid with no Dad and an emotionally unavailable Mother. He is the little boy that had 4 other siblings and even though they were not a wealthy family lived the American dream. His Mom actually saved little bits of money (from his Dad’s teachers salary, a great story for another day.) so they could go to Disney world every other year. They would stay in the campground in their camper. I mean come on, in my mind thats amazing!

 It doesn’t really matter after 27 years, but somehow the quirky bits of who we are melding into are tangled up. I have a husband that loves me with all his heart, works hard everyday and tries  so hard to do things that he knows I will love, but he struggles so much with how to communicate with me. Is it possible to figure that out? I know I hurt him today. I saw his eyes change just for a quick second when I shot my emotional rubber bullet at him. That’s how I sent the love of my life off for the day. Wounded and confused. When we know better we do better. I know I made a mistake. I feel sadness just knowing I hurt this person that means so much. 

Relating to someone is not as easy as it seems. There has to be a two way street and you both have to walk it. When one person is in need the other must respond. Relationships require relations its the biggest and most important part of the word! The hard part is getting the other uncooperative related relater to relate on the same level as you. UGH!

I know that an apology is due. I also know that a conversation is due as well. These things will require two people digging deep and listening. Listening is a big part of keeping a relationship happy, healthy and sane.  

Our Bodies Are Our Own

Grandma, Me and Mommy 1962

PLEASE NOTE: this story is difficult to tell and includes details that may upset some. I have decided to share it because I believe the time is right. I know many will disagree with my personal feelings on the end result, but I hope you will respect my Mom’s truth. I have carried this story in my mind most of my life. When I think of it, I see everything as if it was recent. Some stories should be kept personal and private, but this story needs to be told NOW.

I was around 3 to 5 years old and my Mom and I were living with my Grandparents. I still remember everything as if it was yesterday. My Grandma and Granddaddy were on a vacation. It was just my Mom and I at home. I remember wondering where my Mommy was and looking around for her. I knocked on the bathroom door and Mommy told me to go to my room. Since no one was home I was feeling very lonely but I did what my Mommy told me too.

I don’t recall the exact amount of time, but after what felt like years to my little girl self, my Mommy called out for me. She asked me to call her good friend Shirley. I was little, I didn’t really know how to call anybody and I didn’t have any idea what a phone number was. I remember a feeling of worry and being afraid. Since I could not figure anything out, my Mom had to come out of the bathroom and get the phone number for me. I had to call “Miss Shirley” and ask her to come right away. I honestly remember feeling so stressed. I had never dialed a phone, let alone called Miss Shirley and Mommy seemed very upset. Children tend to react the way the adults react and I remember that the stress and worry was causing me great distress. Once I finally dialed the phone and Miss Shirley answered I kept repeating what my Mom had said. Basically it was “please come, I need your help”. Miss Shirley did come and eventually things calmed down. But my little girl heart was changed that day. The innocence that I had when I woke up that morning was diminished.

I remember my Grandparents coming home from their trip and Grandma being angry about a giant blood stain on her living room carpet. I also remember my Grandma literally beating my Mom. This wasn’t the first time I had witnessed Grandma beating my Mom but this time and one other time (and a different story) were horrifying. My Mom tried very hard to clean the spot but eventually my Grandma had to get new carpet.

At some point in my life I remember Mom telling me that she had aborted a baby that day. She shared that she had used a hanger to rid her body of the fetus that was from her boyfriend an (abusive animal) “Joe V”. She had used a HANGER inside her body because she had no options. I would share more about the abusive loser my Mom was with at the time, but this is really about having a Choice.

I have to be honest and tell you that I believe everyone should CHOOSE what happens to their own body. I don’t agree with anyone  (man or woman) deciding for another what they should do or not do with their body. I say this because I watched my own mother suffer for years because of what she did to her body that day. If she had been able to choose, I don’t think this would have been her first choice. I understand that you might not agree with a choice someone else has made or is making. I go through this everyday when I’m out and about and see some of the things people CHOOSE to wear, but it is NONE of my business. I realize that clothing choices are a much less weighty subject then the right for a Woman to decide for herself what she will do with her own body and somehow I feel if this arrow was pointing at a man, they would change their minds real fast.

So thats it, thats my piece of mind for today. If you disagree, I hope we can still be friends and respect each other. I still like you.

(Respectful dialogue is welcome and encouraged in comments)

Life Is what happens while your too down to care

So a little over two years ago I I hit an invisible wall. I pushed away (perhaps ran away) from the person I have always been. I was a person who engaged with others and invited people over, made new friends, volunteered, cleaned my house, grocery shopped, made  meals and even exercised. Oh and I wrote a blog. I tried as hard as I could to stay who I was but it only made things worse. I felt bad, sad, mad all the “ad” words and nothing was fixing it.

I dug an internal shelter in my mind and started burying everything I was. I felt bombarded with self loathing, self doubting, and disliked most things I once enjoyed. I was convinced that it was everything, but what IT was. I went to the doctor and didn’t like what they said, so I went to a different doctor who put me on medication and then I became even more of a different person but I convinced myself I was doing much better. It’s medication, it is suppose to fix you, Right?

Over the last couple months, I have stopped all the meds and ramped up my exercise routine. I have started doing things I haven’t done in so long I’m embarrassed. I cleaned my front kitchen window for the first time in two years. Now I find myself openly joyous at how clean my front window is. “Look, everything outside is so sunny and green!” I’m seriously a little nuts about it, but I don’t care. I feel more like myself than I have in years. I will say some of my past issues have returned. I talk to much, my brain goes nonstop and I make friends with strangers. The making friends with strangers is basically locating someone who at the moment who is in a similar situation or contemplating a similar purchase or just some poor soul that crossed my path and can’t escape.

I know what started the downward spiral, but its not important. What’s important is that when it started I couldn’t fight it. I would just lean in to the feelings of bad, sad, and mad and thats where I lived. It became my place to be. Being depressed is not a funny thing. It’s this cold, dark and moldy place that basically claims you as its own. I couldn’t really talk to my friends or family about it because I just could not coup with people sweetly telling me I was going to be ok. I did NOT want pity and I did not want to be treated differently. That last bit is tough, because I was different and a bit weirdly uncomfortable and snarky. There is no way to bring it up that “I” realize I was a HOT MESS. I just plan to move forward with me, who I am, who I like and who knows ME best.

 I’m back at this blogging thing and I assure you that you will hear from me at least once  a week. The best part is I am GLAD (which is another “ad” word) and that has been missing from my life for too long. Being better doesn’t mean I don’t still have things to work on. I’m still a bit feisty, which may not be a bad thing. I have never been great at sticking up for myself (except with my husband LOL).

Basically my living game is back up and running. It’s been a long road but I don’t regret walking it. It was like walking on a road where the trees block most of the light. Your ok, it is pretty, but it still doesn’t feel ok.  All you really want is more light. That’s where I’m at now. Stretching, doing a little upward dog, downward dog and soaking up spring like a sponge. AHHHH, so good to be a little bit more me again.

(Please don’t be shy to comment, hearing from you will motivate me to annoy you with my writing even more.)

This Girl Is Alright

I recently caused quite a stir within my family when I made a crazy rash decision. I was actually pretty surprised at my families response. I was just minding my own business and drinking my morning coffee when an idea hit me. I mulled the idea over, called my husband to let him know I had a plan and asked for his blessing (even though I knew I was going to go through with my plan no matter what...)

Now please don’t judge me, but I decided to move my furniture around.  My hubby was very cool about the whole moving furniture issue. His only request “Don’t move the furniture by yourself”. Not sure how you move things without moving things, but I agreed anyway. I know what your thinking, but I’m not a bad person. I cant help if I like things to change once in a while. For years I had wanted to swap my living room and dining room and didn’t because the guilt was so strong. Change things? Why? Your family is counting on your sameness to keep things together. If you go changing things, what else could go wrong? 

Soooo, I got to work. I was gonna flip my life on its ear and move furniture. Others have done it and come back from the edge. I’m sure that I can make a change and not up end our lives as we know them. Cue, furniture moving began. Sliding, pushing, pulling and removing no longer needed pieces of furniture. Boom, I was feeling fantastic. Look at me designing a new living space. I sent pictures to my 3 daughters sharing my accomplishment and joy. Yay me!

I was ready to switch things up and so I did. I didn’t cheat on my husband or eat a whole cake all by myself (although it does sound good! The cake I mean...) I just decided to make a few changes to my home. My children all live on their own now and crazy me wants change. Towards the end of this week of change I went with a friend for coffee in this adorable shop that had hilarious tea towels and all sorts of cute items including a lamp that I decided I really wanted. This lamp...which I promptly asked for for Mother’s Day...

https://www.antiquefarmhouse.com/dog-shaped-table-lamp.html?gclid=Cj0KCQjw-tXlBRDWARIsAGYQAmc-XoDg-o04IcXCJqdu5VxmWJzuxxGapW5G07J2lJYGlfgeGtwUgswaAuMiEALw_wcB

(This is not the shop I was at, but this is cheaper and the same lamp!)

....brought on 3 NO’s and an (Are you serious? ) from my 3 daughters. It is important to note that I know it is ridiculous, but it made me laugh and life is short. Laughing is the best medicine. But apparently the joke was on me. As I’m laughing with my friend about this lamp and enjoying a great latte. My children were texting each other wondering if I’m ok. Why is she moving all the furniture? Why the lamp? What’s going on with Mom? The quick answer NOTHING! Mom is perfectly fine, just trying some new things. I think what really got to me was when one the the girls suggested I should find a place to volunteer. Apparently my desire to switch things up at home was a cry for help. 

I love that my girls were worried about me. Thank God they love me and worry about me! How lucky am I? I just don’t want them worrying because I have  decided to do things around the house. Worry about me if I walk into to traffic or forget where I live. Don’t worry because I’m making changes. This is time for me to create and be the person I put off being because I had poured my time in to them. My daughters are all strong independent women and they are and always will be just perfect the way they are. In the end, I changed my mind about the lamp anyway! LOL

So don’t worry about this girl, because

THIS GIRL IS ALRIGHT!