BYOC!!! Bring Your Own Crazy!!

It’s FRIDAY – which means it’s BYOC – Bring Your Own Crazy…around these parts. We answer a couple of questions to get to know each other better and to give our blog brains a break. Copy and paste to your own blog if you so desire…and ENJOY!!


1. If you could pick any name on Earth for yourself – would you change yours and what would it be?

I love my real name.  And I love my middle name, Read.  Both names are completely unique.  In fact, it's because of how unique my first name is that I don't use it on the blog.  There just aren't very many in the world with my name.  I did meet one, once and I was SO excited.  She was not nearly as excited as I was - but I guess I'm about 15 years older than she so I'd had far more time to be amazed that I'd never met one of me before - oh well.  But if you knew my name and google it - you find the real me immediately and I just don't want everyone in the world to know about my band - so.. shhhh, I use my middle name here.  (and for those I meet in person, I swear I'll answer to either name)


2. If you’re a worker-outer…what time do you partake in such activities? There are SO many theories about when it’s best and not best to work out….like the morning is better since you have an empty stomach or the night is not good because you won’t be able to sleep…etc, etc. – so I’d like to hear your theories.

Really it's whenever I can get my ass up and doing it... But I find either right after work - like maybe at 6pm works pretty well as does before work at 6am are the best times for me - when I can get the most out of it.  There have been lots of times that I can't get (when I am getting to it in gereral) until after the kids are in bed - or at least until after they're fed - so more like 8 or 9pm - and that's not the end of the world, but I do find it harder to get my ass on the treadmill at that time of day these days, but - it still works then too.


3. If you drive a car – what kind is it and if you could drive any car – what would it be?
I drive a Toyota Solara Convertible and I love it.  Well, I love it's speed and I love the convertible nature of it.  I was in an accident that totalled my Honda CRV (which I LOVED) which led to the convertible.  I have always wanted a convertible, but the last time it was time for a car, I had just had Teddy and didn't think it made sense.  I narrowed it down between the Toyota I got, a 4 door Jeep, and an Audi A-4.  I LOVE to drive, and there's no doubt that the A-4 was the most fun to drive, but it just wasn't $20,000 more fun to drive than the Toyota.  I think if left to my own devices I might have picked the Jeep.  It's more me I think, more truck like, higher off the ground, and something I'd worry about less (not that I worry all that much) - but Brad totally vetoed the Jeep.  We've always been a Honda family and it's served us well - and if they'd made a convertible with a back seat, I'd have probably ended up with that one - so the Toyota seems to fit the "Honda" need - if you know what I mean.

As far as wants... I totally and completely want a VW Thing in bright orange.  That says me - no doubt about it.  I also wouldn't mind a 700 series BMW, and after that one test drive - an Audi.  But - now that I have a convertible - I can't imagine life without one.  I'm completely hooked and imagine I'll always have one.

4. Can you be totally honest in answering this next question and tell me what you think of tattoos? More importantly – what do you think of the people who have tattoos – specifically women?

I love tattoos.  I think the art and the meaning are cool and wonderful.  I have one of some flowers on my upper thigh and I love showing it to people and I have every intention of adding a bee to it.  But - and I suspect I will offend people - but honesty was asked for and  honesty you shall have.  I think tattoos should be able to be covered.  There is something a little... less than polite about them - it's sort of like burping in puplic to me - like go ahead and burp in front of your best friend - or cuss like a sailor or have a million tattoos but when you're with your grandmother - you do things differently - you don't burp, and you don't cuss, and you don't have tattoos all over the place.

I find visible tattoos on men and women in a business environment to not be professional.  I work for a manufacturing company and I don't have this opinion of the men and women who work in the plant.  Or in any environment that is, by definition, more casual.  Where jeans are the norm.  And there's no doubt I have a double standard about it (maybe it's a triple standard since I have one and want antoher) But just walking down the street - if I see a man with lots of ink (assuming it's in places that can be covered if so chosen) I'm not sure I bat an eye - but when I see a woman, especially younger women, with lots of visible tattoos - I do judge her - I do think a little less of her.  I completely get that it's unfair - but it's also honest.  I will say - that I will look twice at a woman and if they are all in places that can be covered in a business environment I give myself a little smack down over my initial reaction.  At the same time - if I were to see a woman with something small and descreet, yet visible in summer clothes, I wouldn't bat an eye and might think - hey I love that!  Like a small heart/butterfly/flower/star peeking out above her shorts or something like that - maybe at the back of the neck.  So... there you have it - the unvarnished and totally hypocritical truth.  It's also completely true that I envy people who live and work in environments where needing to be "polite" is either not necessary or defined differently and they have tattoos all over the place - and it's completely acceptable at home and at work and in their social environments.  I don't live there so I guess I judge people by the standards by which I live.


5. Repeat question: Summarize your week in blog land and in real life.

Real life continues to be tough.  Darius Rucker has this new song called "I've Got Nothing".  And I cried and cried when I heard it the first time.  It's what I imagine Brad will be feeling when I walk out the door.  On the up side my MIL has arrived and the added chaos will make it more difficult to wallow.  The current sports seasons are winding down with soccer and football ending today and tomorrow and baseball playoffs on Monday.  For the summer we've signed Jackson up for rugby - a fried of ours is a coach and saw how fast Jackson runs and begged him to join - and Jack was all for it.  And for Teddy it's ultimate frisbee which he's been wanting to play FOR-EVER!  This is the first year we've not done swim team - I'm still not happy enough with how Jackson swims - it's fine, but just not good enough - so I need to do something about that.  Maybe I'll just make him do laps every time we go to the pool. - hey!! That's a great idea!!

Blog life - I finally got commenting to work from home, but I still can't do it from work - which is totally annoying - but.. at least I'm getting some commenting in.  I am reading, I swear - even if I'm not always commenting.  Things for the most part seem on an even keel so that's good!!

Ricky and my mom

First things first... Justawallflower (I can't think if you use your real name in blogworld or not) - you have gone 'round the bend if you think bringing Ricki to Chicago is anything like a good idea.  OMG!  (okay, I just had to get that off my chest)

So I swear to God - these two women were vying for the lead in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest tonight.

Jackson had his fourth grade band concert tonight.  Let's back up, shall we.  This damn concert (he plays drums just like his older brother) had my anxiety ridden child running to the bathroom for the last several weeks at the mere thought of practicing.  I think he figured if he didn't know the parts he wouldn't have to perform.  Finally I told him I couldn't care less if he performed he was still going to have to play the damn bell piece for me - perfectly.

Brad took Jack, Jake (Jack's best friend who's in middle school but really wanted to see Jack's concert - isn't that cute), and Ted early because Jack couldn't stand the waiting anymore, so I got to take Ricky a bit later.

On the way over I heard about the fight she had with her daughter with whom she lives.  It included Ricki telling Dawn to "ef off" (that was whispered) as Ricky said it.  "I prolly shunt have said that, but I think she said it to me first." You think she said that to you? 

But seriously, my mom totally won the award tonight.  My birthday was about a week and a half ago and this is the first time I've seen her since then.  She brought me a present.  Well.. it was a gift bag full of several presents.... She clearly spent time and effort picking each piece out especially for me.  First I reached in and got the card and she said "I don't sign cards, that way you can reuse them."  um... okaaaay, and sure enough - it's a card.  A blank card.  It played music.  Okay, well on to the gifts.  There was a hair brush - a teal blue hair brush.  Have any of you seen my hair?  It's really curly - I don't brush my hair - unless it's Halloween and I'm going for the zombie look, but this will be a nice distraction for Ricky who always wants to use my hair things..  I'm gonna put this brush out and she'll think it's mine - bwahahahah.

Then there were the two pairs of socks.  Hey, I'm thrilled about these.  She got me these amazing socks for Christmas and I LOVED LOVED LOVED them and asked her to pick me up some more of them. 

Me: Oh yay! Some of those socks!!!

Her: uh, nope.  They were all out.

mmmmkay - so... what? you thought two pairs of knee high socks (still with the 2 for $5 tab on them) said - just because it's 98 degrees outside you want me wrapped up in warmth supplied by you??

Moving right along.  A tube of black liquid eyeliner.  Seriously.  I've got nothing against black eyeliner, I'm sure it's a wonderful staple to many people's makeup bags.  But with my green eyes, I've never once worn black anything.  I don't even wear black mascara.   Give me some purples, greens, browns - I'm good - black not so much.  Maybe it goes with the brush and I should definitely be a zombie for Halloween this year.

Then there was the insta-dry fuck me red nail polish.   I was totally planning on doing my nails today - and I think fuck me red definitely says hot summer day - totally going for it.

A book called Deception - upon hearing me say "Deception"...

Ricky: is that the new perfume by Elizabeth Taylor.  She's dead you know.  And even so, her perfumes - did you know she had a lot of them - they're really selling a lot of them.  She was married... To more than one person, did you know that?

This led to a spirited conversation between my mom and Ricky about who could name more of Elizabeth Taylor's husbands.  Everyone was impressed when Brad added "that Fortensky guy."

And a pair of earrings that we decided must be a basket of flowers and the flowers are little blue beads.  For years her husband, my step dad, used to give me gold hoops for gift giving occasions because that was an easy go to and he knew that my ears itch if the earrings aren't actually gold or silver.  I think mom missed that memo.  They're cute though.

After they left and I was laughing at the bag -
Brad: You know what this is, don't you? 
Me: What?
Brad: A trip to CVS
Me: (mimicking my mom) I don't sign cards, so you can re-use them
Brad: A trip today, on their way up here, to CVS.

Oh and at the bottom of the bag was a small plastic grocery bag with another identical card in it - also not signed.  I just looked at her and she looked confused.  "Perhaps you got this one for Christine?" (my sister).  Mom: yup, that's it.  I'm so glad I came in with you, otherwise I'd have been totally stumped when her birthday rolls around.

be thankful for the opportunites dropped in your lap, Ricki, & Jackson

So I'm sitting here with Teddy (almost 13) and he's watching George Lopez while I'm reading blogs.  And the mom says to the 14 year old son on the show "Did that tramp steal your virginity?"  It was totally unexpected and both Teddy and I burst out laughing.  He looked up at me, still laughing, "Are you going to say that to me one day?"

Jackson: (age 10, doing homework yells in from the other room) Ted, record that for me so I can watch it later!  (he's the one I have to worry about)

Me: Ted, I need you to wait until you're 26 before you lose your virginity, okay?
(26 is my age for everything - you can get a tattoo when you're 26, you can ride a motorcycle when you're 26, you can drive a car when you're 26...)

Ted: I doubt that, I seriously doubt that.  (he's still kind of chuckling, not the least bit self conscious)

Me: Okay, maybe not 26.  (I paused and and thought - what the hell - take the gift dropped in your lap)  So you know you have to wear a condom every single time, no exceptions?

Ted: Yes mom.

Me: And you know you are WAAAAY too young right now, right?

Ted: (thankfully rolling his eyes) Yes mom.

Okay, so I stopped right there.  No harm, no foul.  No self consciousness, and a plug for condoms.  Not a bad deal for a Tuesday evening.


And, right now as I type this - Brad is at the airport picking up his mom.  I hope she'll be as blog rich as she was the last time she was here.


OH and one more thing...

Jackson just said... do you know what I've always wanted to do?

Me: nope

Jack: Fill a funnel with whipped cream and then figure out how to get it down the little pipe at the end and then shove the pipe inside a waffle and fill the waffle with whipped cream.

Me: (I just nodded my head - wondering if I should tell him about pastry bags)

Jack: Noooo, wait... syrup.  That would be even better.  Do we have a funnel?

Me: uh.. nope, not us.  No way.  No funnels here.

Jack: I know we do, where is it.

Me:  Hey look over there, it's a dead turtle, or a snake....

So, on the one hand - of course it's a genius idea my little guy has and no doubt it would be delish, but seriously - the boy is up before everyone else in the house every single day.  No way am I helping him destroy my kitchen before I'm even out of bed.  nuh uh,  no way, no how!



Okay speaking of Jackson - one more, more thing.

Remember his stitches?  You can see the before pictures here.  But look how well it's healing.  

The one about the snake...

I’m minding my own business – seriously trying to lay about uselessly and read a book when Bandit the wonder dog (BTWD) Won’t. Stop. Barking.  Now as we’ve discussed many times before – this fucking cute little dog really likes to bark.  Usually, however, he will use his little dog door and go out on the back deck and bark for only a minute or two.  The branches blowing in the wind only hold his interest for so long.  Then he’ll often find a hunk of sun and lay down to bask.  Summer in MD is a beautiful thing for just this reason.  But… That fucking dog would not shut the fuck up.  And our neighbors already want to have our house burnt to the ground in hopes of trapping BTWD inside.  So, up I get so I can go get him to shut the fuck up.

He’s in prowl and hunt mode when I get out to him.  He’s crouched down creeping forward (while barking is ass off) on his way to attack… a harmless twig.  He lunges, nudges the offending stick with his nose, and quickly retreats.  Quietly (for 3 seconds) he moves on to another tiny little twig; this one complete with tiny little green leaves, and goes through the same process.  It would be comical if he’d just shut the fuck up for more than three seconds.  But alas, I know what he’s barking at… there has to be a snake near by and somehow he’s afraid these little twigs are also little snakes (cuz he’s really bright like that).

Where’s Brad you might ask?  Why of course, if there’s wildlife involved he’s not home, I answer.  He’s at a baseball game with Jackson.  I get Teddy.  I figure if he’s taller than me that has to count for something, right (okay so sometimes I suck as a mom.  Sue me.)  I tell him of my suspicions and we head down the stairs to find the snake – of course, Teddy’s gleeful at the prospect.  And there he is – right under where BTWD had been attacking the sticks is a snake hanging out in the beams under our deck.  (as an aside this explains the two dead birds and the trashed bird’s nest we found about a week ago).  He’s folded in half on himself and I just can’t get a clear view of him to verify it’s just a harmless black snake.  From our vantage point it looks like he has black and grey stripes. 

Teddy is immediately making plans for getting him down and then of course bringing him in the house as a pet.  Uh… maybe bringing the 12 year old on this expedition was an error in judgment.  We end up getting our neighbor, Jamie, to come over and get the snake down (extremely hilarious) and then kill the damn thing (totally gross).  It ended up just being a harmless little (about four feet long) black snake, but Jamie HATES snakes and is trying to eradicate them from the neighborhood – yeah… good luck with that… have you seen the woods behind our homes?

Anyway – as you all may know, when you cut off a snake’s head (as Jamie did) both parts continue to move around for about half an hour.  The little tongue still darts in and out from the little head part as the head moves back and forth and the body coils and uncoils as it sees fit. (ok not really sees as the eyes are on the other part).  So we threw the head part over the back fence into the woods and we put the rest on the driveway so Jackson could see it when he got home.  (sometimes I'm a champion mom)

For your viewing pleasure, here’s the snake sans head moving about on the driveway.

On another note - will someone please tell me what I need to do in order to comment again on people’s blogs??  - I know it has something to do with cookies and google accounts – but that’s all I’ve got at the moment. – thanks ever so much!!

BYOC - OMG I almost missed it...

Let’s do BYOC – Bring Your Own Crazy! Every Friday a bunch of us answer a couple questions – some serious, some funny – in an effort to get to know each other better and to give our blog brains a break. Copy and paste to your blog if you want to participate and ENJOY!


1. When is the last time you gave and got a compliment?

Last night for both...  I was complemented for my guacamole (which is the recipe stolen from Dos Caminos) and I complemented Brad for his ribs.   It was some good eatin'!!!


2. What do you wear to bed?

it depends.  I'm often cold, so in the winter I'm often wearing a long sleeve tee shirt and sweat pants.  As it gets warmer I first loose the sweats and keep the shirt.  Then eventually move to a tee shirt or sleep shirt - my favorite looks like a men's button down shirt - but it's really, really soft and even has pockets.  Also - one of my little quirks is about socks and sleeping.  My feet are my thermometers and I will often go to bed with socks on because I'm cold, but as soon as I warm up under the blankets I will take off the socks and push them out from under the covers and onto the floor.  When it's laundry time, I have to go check my side of the bed as there are always a few pairs laying there.... oops.

3. If you could pick your dream job – with no worries of shifts or money or bosses or commute – what would it be and where?

I want to be an interior designer - and or an event planner.  I want it to be my own company and I want to work with some wonderful women who all have different strengths in an environment where we can all rely on each other and be appreciative of our different and complementary strengths.

4. Okay – I’m not trying to start some huge controversy with this question but I have to put it out there. If you’re being honest – do you think staying at home or working outside the home is harder? Can you honestly recognize they are both equally hard? Even if you don’t have kids – have you heard others talk about the two professions judgementally?





I'm not sure which is harder.   I absolutely think some people are better suited to one vs the other.  I know when my kids were smaller I was a better mother because I worked outside of the home.  I also know some people think that's an impossible statement, but I'm confident in its truth.  But I knew then absolutely that I could not have handled being a full time mother - it was too hard a job for me. Now that my kids are older, I think I might like to stay home and I think the things the kids need me for now are just as important as they were then - think life development vs life sustaining (WAY oversimplification there) and better suited to my skill set.  I'm not sure we could make that happen and I'm almost 100% sure I won't try because I don't know what the future of my marriage holds and I'm not stupid enough to stop working now.




5. Repeat question. Summarize your week in blogland and in real life.

Blogland had been annoying with the commenting issues - I'm totally over the pita that it is!  Real life - is eh... I'm working on finding a therapist for me to go to to help figure out what the hell to do with my life which is a little nerve wracking though I have been able to laugh with my husband a few times which is a nice change of pace.

A few quick brain farts

• Tom is due any minute now and I can not stop shoving things into my mouth.  Not big things, but just things.  So far I’m managing to not be too unhealthy – but omg – if he doesn’t show up soon, I may start eating the desk.

• So, I walk into my room last night and Bandit the wonder dog’s head pops up and he has the most guilty, “Oh shit!!” look on his face as he lay there straddling Kenny the four foot kangaroo in a very, very intimate embrace.

• My MIL is coming in a couple of weeks.  I have mixed emotions about this.  She will require extra work and cheerfulness on my part – I have to take her shopping and out to dinner a few times.  Maybe dinner and a movie.  Like I don’t have enough stuff going on in my life.  But the upside – there’s no doubt she’ll provide a few blog posts – so that’s fun!!

• OH and speaking of Ricky… my SIL, Dawn, with whom Ricky lives put as her status on FB yesterday for an hour or so before she thought better of it the following….. picture this having dinner with a 68 year old woman who does nothing but complain about the dinner I just fixed her until finally she’s had enough and leaves the table in a cloud of her own gas leaving me to clean up her and everyone else’s mess.    Which led to the following discussion…

Brad: Clearly this trip down here is coming at the right time for Dawn, maybe a little late even.

Me: If she ever complained about food you or I made for her I’d bop her upside her head.

Brad: She’s afraid of you; she’d never say a thing.

What can I say… I prefer to think of it as I bring out the best in people.

I'm just sad and I don't know what to do about it... (ETA)

I warn you - this is a little rambly - read it at your own risk.


There’s a fine line between wonderful and icky.  Maybe the line isn’t so fine.. I don’t know.  I do know that when I was younger, though it was all an act – an act I didn’t no any better than to continue with – people were often bowled over by the force of my personality.  I think I was a stay in the background kind of person, only throw in the well placed stuff so that people would see me enough not to notice that I just wanted to stay in the background.  (can you follow that?).  But, despite my best efforts, I couldn’t stay in the background – I was never allowed.  Anyway – people would never stand up to me, (as if I was something to be stood up to) they’d never tell me no.  People were always afraid of me.  To this day that totally baffles me, but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s completely true.

So… and this is about my husband…  Beyond the initial click, one of the things that really attracted me to him was that he wasn’t afraid of me.  He wasn’t afraid to tell me no, to stand up to me, to argue with me, to push back.  It was amazingly refreshing and I guess somewhat intoxicating.  We’ve never argued much, really hardly at all, but I never doubted his back bone.  I knew he’d give it to me straight, whatever it might be.

So fast forward to our lives together.  We’ve been together for 20 year and like any couple we’ve had our ups and down and a lot of the down parts were me, early in our time together, especially.  I felt safe I guess for the first time – safe enough to freak out and the low grade depression I’d fought all my life turned into the big time real deal.  And I pushed him away during that time.  A year or so ago he told me he almost didn’t make it through that with me, though at the time I had no idea. 

We both made it – and were probably better for it – though who knows if that’s true.  He never made any demands of me during that time, just quietly supported me.  It’s probably what I needed.  When I came out of that, I had all these rules – things like no PDA and when I say no PDA, I mean I wouldn’t even sit near him in public.  Private was a whole different thing, but public… I just couldn’t handle it – the idea of people watching me – or of me doing the expected – like kissing him hello.  We’d greet each other in public the same way I’d greet any other acquaintance I liked.  “Hey Brad, how’s it going.”  There’s no doubt I was insane.  Slowly I came out of that – my depression, my rules the whole thing.  I slowly figured out or at least had a really good start on who I was and what I wanted out of life.  I kiss him hello – people think we’re really cute together.  Our kids have seen us make out more times that is probably healthy.

Meanwhile.  Brad was and is wonderful.  Everyone loves him.  I’ve always joked that my family likes him better than they like me.  I know that’s not true, exactly, I don’t have any deep seated issues about how much my family loves me – but seriously everyone thinks he’s just the bees knees. (how often do you get to use that in a sentence?)  And he is.  He’s kind and generous and ready, willing, and able to lend a hand to anyone.  I’ve talked about how wonderful he is for a long damn time.  The people in my office call him St. Brad because whenever they talk about the stereotypical man’s failing, I’d always pipe up with – Brad wouldn’t or doesn’t or would never do that.  And it was always true. 

He shares in everything; housework, parenting, whatever.  People measure their spouse or boyfriend against the measure that is Brad.  He is absolutely a 50% (or more) kind of parent.  In fact, I herniated a disc six weeks after my youngest was born and ended up having surgery for it when he was seven months old after all other treatments failed and my poor sciatic nerve was just slammed against a wall inside me.  And I swear he did flat out everything.  He changed every diaper, got up every night, cooked all the meals, did all the laundry, whatever had to happen – he did it without complaint for probably a full year when all was said and done. 

But – the point here is.  He does have all these wonderful external attributes.  I’ve not lied when I sang his praises.  But… just cuz he’s a good guy – does that mean he’s the right one for me?  And of course I know the answer to that is no.  But still. 

Over the years he bends over backwards to make me happy – or rather to do things he thinks will make me happy.  He spends a lot of time and effort taking things off my plate.  He keeps our calendar, he sets up babysitting, he keeps the household running far more than I do.  I think in part he does these things to please me – but he also likes to do them.  It’s an innate skill he has and for all my anal retentiveness I’m much more of a fly by the seat of my pants kind a girl.

I swear I have a point here.  I’ve been thinking about him and me a lot.  And one of the things I’m thinking about lately is the ability to tell me no.  The ability to stand up to me.  The not being scared of me.  The thing that attracted me in the first place.  I think it doesn’t exist.  Maybe it never did.  I am so firmly in charge of every damn aspect of our lives it’s suffocating me.  I can and often do sit by silently and let our life pass by in front of me – and Mr. Scheduler makes sure every damn thing happens when it should without a peep from me.  But on the big stuff… how we parent, how we connect, how we live – it’s only a look from me – and he’ll change direction.  We’ve had a lot of fights or at least heated discussions about me not signing up to have three children.  He blusters against that, but I think he knows I’m right.

I never wanted to be that person.  I’ve never wanted to be in charge – for all my blustering – for the way the world always saw me – I don’t want it.  I want something from him.  I want to know he’ll rein me in, he’ll have my back, that he’s be my safety net.  That he’ll tell me no when he feels it.  That’s he’d feel it in the first place.  That’s he’d do something, do any damn thing that let’s me know he has his own mind, his own thoughts. 

There’s a fine line between doing things to please your spouse and being a limp noodle.  I used to think he was on one side of that line and now I’m not so sure.

The last time we had a discussion about the shit that is our marriage.  I told him clearly and in no uncertain terms that if it were not for my youngest child’s separation issues, I would leave him.  I honestly believe it would break Jackson if I left and it’s a long way from bad enough for it to be worth that kind of cost.  It’s not so much bad as it’s nothing.  I told him as I’d told him before, because I’m not at liberty to leave right now, you have time to fight for me – but I’m done fighting for us, I need some effort from you – anything.  It can’t be all me, it has to be both of us or what’s the damn point.  At the time we talked about how months earlier he had said he was going to contact a therapist for us to go see and how him not having done even that was yet another example of what I mean to him, what our marriage means to him.  But no, he said, I’ve been playing phone tag with the therapist just this week. (he often says this kind of thing – where once I would have said he was the most honest, the most moral man in the world – I’ve heard an awful lot of ‘the check’s in the mail’ from him in the last five years.).  I told him how hard it was for me to believe that, but that I’d certainly welcome at least that level of effort.  I also told him – being mad at him, staying mad at him, keeping my walls up to high, was too damn much energy and I just couldn’t sustain it anymore.  I told him I was just going to go about our lives and I felt confident once I wasn’t acting mad or unhappy he’d just assume all was right with the world and he’d go back to his world of denial and not do a damn thing.  And how I’d interpret that, as I have been for the past five years, as exactly how much he listens to me (not at all), exactly how much our marriage and me are worth fighting for (not at all).  And I’d add those new messages to all the others I’ve been hearing.  “No, no, Read, I swear.  That’s not true.  I’ll get us scheduled with the therapist – we’ll figure this out if you’re still wiling.”  I am, I told him.  Well I was.

So – a few months later.  I guess he and the therapist are still playing phone tag.  He’s continuing to go about his business of keeping our calendar straight.  The fact that his extremely passionate wife isn’t even slightly interested in sex with him isn’t sending off any warning bells in him that I can see.  I think he’s scared of me – of what my reaction will be – but really – his lack of doing anything – of throwing me even the smallest crumb – of doing even what he said he would.  That’s the biggest sign of all.  So now – I’m just sad.  I think I’m mourning my marriage even though I’m still sleeping next to him every night.  I wish him well, I wish me well, but if he can’t lift a finger, then he can’t lift a finger and I’m worth more than that.


After some lovely comments, I feel compelled to add - I am absolutely going to go to therapy just for me - there's no doubt I need some help deciding what I need to do next - how to proceed - where I want to go - that kind of thing.  I've already made some calls and intend to make an appointment as soon as possible.