Honey, I Warned You This Post Would Come!

Marriage is work. That may seem like a common sense statement but its true. Even in stable marriages, it’s not always easy to love your spouse. I am so frustrated with Mitch lately; I can’t find those kind words to spill onto him. When we discuss the kids, my frustrations, politics, family priorities, personal goals, I feel like I’m an alien to my husband. Mitch is a good man. He’s affectionate (ugh!), he provides, he’s thoughtful, funny and a very involved daddy.
Among all these amazing qualities, one might ask themselves what I have to complain about. Well lately, evidently, a lot. Tonight for example, he had plans to take Trevor and Nolan to their first Cub Scout meeting. When I spoke to him while he was working, I reminded him of the meeting and he began whining about not being able to go to the gym. True, we have been trying to be disciplined in our recent exercise endeavor. However, I understand that when you have a family, time does not allow for a six-day-a-week gym ritual. His one simple complaint was enough to send me into my sarcastic guilt-laden attack “Oh I’m sooo sorry that your boys have been looking so forward to something that is going to interfere with your desire to work out…you are gone from this house more than any of us and when it’s not all about you, you whine like a child..You are so selfish!” Nice, huh?
In recent months I have just felt like we live in the world of “Mitch” and the rest of us are just planets that must revolve around him because we’re predestinated to do so. Without choice, or right to question, we revolve. We have a busy life. Work, school, church, extra-curricular activities……all while trying to always create and maintain “home as a haven” approaches to our family life. Though recently, I feel like I’m alone in that expedition. Mitch makes the choice to add his “fun and recreation” appointments the immediate days following a stretch of increased busyness. You know what I mean! Monday through Friday are filled with work, school, practices, and school concerts. But then, you look at your calendar and see a Saturday. That coveted, sweet surprise of a day without plans.
I recently gushed about such a Saturday, only to have Mitch respond “Well, I was going to go__________.” Fill in the blank. It happens enough around here that to fill it in with just one instance would not add the emphasis I’m going for. Why are we supposed to understand that a man needs that time of release? Like we, women don’t? I love girl time and I have been enjoying more of it in the past year than I ever have in the twelve we’ve been married. But! There is part of me that has been making an almost unconscious point to add more of said girl time, out of spite. In a childish “I’ll show him” way, I’m using my rare breaks as revenge. Honestly, I love my time with friends to just unwind, vent, and laugh but I’ve notice this piece of me, as I pencil it onto my calendar , that thinks to myself “Let’s see how he likes it!”. I’m horrible, I know.
I know I’m not alone in this though and that infuriates me even more. We were away with other families this weekend to an indoor water park. It was so nice to just enjoy my family. No need to discipline or argue about how it should be done. Between dunking and being over taken by waves, I was just sitting and enjoying my friend Kathy. Hearing her express similar feelings about her husband made me feel so normal, not evil. Which is all wrong!!? Being mean to my husband shouldn’t make me feel normal, it should sadden me, make me desire for something better…but for right now normal will have to do. I can’t seem to find pity for him as he shields himself from my spewing anger. That “choosing to love him and be different thing” isn’t working so well today.

Ohh, A Juicy Secret

Ellen writing.
When my husband was in high school he had a less than respectable girlfriend. She has inserted herself into our marriage from time to time over the past 11 years...without provocation. I've always actually sympathized with her. It is not in my nature to be jealous when it comes to my relationship with my husband. She is unable to even stir that emotion due to her level of ridiculousness. Melissa(the ex)exhibits genuine mental illness tendencies.

Mitch and Melissa dated for a considerable amount of time. At the age of sixteen, Melissa was with child. This is not an issue of denial, paternity was legitimately questioned. During the pregnancy, the relationship ended but not Mitch's commitment to care for this baby boy if it were determined he was indeed the father. Sadly, the child suffered from SIDS(Sudden Infant Death Syndrome), the paternity was never determined. Mitch had met baby Marley several times. However, he refused to make an emotional connection to Marley until he was sure this was his son. As I said, it was reasonably doubted. He attended the funeral services and mourned for this child and the possibility of "what if?" This was 19 years ago, before speedy DNA science and gestational paternity testing...no autopsy.

I pitied her. How devastating it must be to lose a child, a pain I can't even fathom. Even when she called my home, asking to speak to Mitch, I was courteous, merciful, even gracious. Maybe because I was thinking "What the...?", or because I knew he'd have no desire to talk to her. Regardless, I never felt threatened.

Occasionally, we'd see "Florida Call" on the ID and didn't answer. The possibility that it could be her, angered Mitch. She has contacted members of Mitch's family "innocently" asking about him, referencing "his" child...stirring the pot. Still, I say nothing.

Today on facebook(which is the devil by the way), to my surprise, she appeared as a suggested friend. I had a little laugh. Then like any wife, had to look at her profile...after all she is the ex. She had just posted pictures of a baby girl she bore. I was actually happy for her. Hoping in some way, that this baby would not replace Marley, but allow her to be the mom I assume she was aching to be.

Then I saw her photo caption.

"Mitch-Wish you could have stepped up back then. Then maybe our baby would still be alive...SCUMBAG!"

Enter the Bitch. I sent her the nastiest compilation of words I have ever composed. As I mentioned in my bio, Mitch is a dad to be modeled. He has struggled, more so after the birth of our sons, with the "what ifs". "What if he was mine?..What if we could have gotten results sooner and I had sole custody?" Not knowing has been painful for him.

Among all my ranting and strong advice for her to stop contacting Mitch's family, I still found myself explaining to this pitiful woman, God is Grace. He gives us what we DON'T DESERVE, NOT WHAT WE DO. He doesn't take the lives of our children as punishment for our shortcomings, not even someone like her.

The Mama Bear was exposed tonight. Do not attack her family or her den. Her fury will be unleashed. She is not as graceful as her God.

A Marriage Ends, Fear Sets In

Imagine something for me. Picture the most stable, loving, communicating couple you know. You know the one. They've been married for a million years and even though you may be in your early(I will not say mid-thirties until I'm 35)thirties, like me, but they are the couple you aspire to be "when I grow up". I'm not talking about the "happy" marriages that mearly camoflauge all the garbage that happens inside the privacy of homes. A real, bonified healthy, honesty-filled, love story between a man and his wife...that's the one! That couple.

Now imagine one day, out of NO WHERE, the female counterpart announces "Darren, wants a divorce." What?!! Did she just say "Divorce?" You may be shocked, as I was. Saddened, like I was. Terrified like I am.

This happened to me....Friday to be exact. This news came by way of a friend who is about twenty years my elder. I have known her for about twelve years. She is a rock, yet never abrasive. She is always on an even keel. She's not the life of the party but she's witty at just the perfect moment. She's mild yet strong.

I see my friend about once a month and every time I love her accounts of her and her husband's latest adventures, talks, sharing of life. They have two grown boys and their empty-nest-dating-cycle had begun. They weren't one of those couples who enthrall themselves with all things children and then realize they have completely lost their bond to each other. This couple was different. They modeled a respectful, courteous, supportive love of each other, a priceless portrait for children. They were the best parents they could possibly be, but were now at a position in their lives where parental advice is solicited, not freely distributed. They were completely comfortable with that status. They were enjoying all the things a couple should when responsibility is lessened.

There's the back story.

I cried as she mourned for her marriage..thought to my self, then said out loud "If you guys don't make it, who does?" Tears streaming simultaneously, she whimpers "I don't know." Enter the fear.

Mitch and I have had a recent rough patch. Nothing damning, just rough. We are being very intentional, things are truly improving. But I wonder, in twenty years will he resent me for things that are happening now? Will I resent him? Could he hate me? Am I being deceived by the belief that a marriage built on the foundation of Christ will stand? If I look out through the wounded heart of my friend the answer could be an unequivocal, yes. That.Is.Scary...Terrifying.

I am Ellen

I am Ellen. I was born and raised in the same small town in which I now reside. My childhood was stereotypical, middle class American family from the outside looking in: Mom, Dad, Brother and a Sister, besides me. I have great memories of family vacations, well-cooked meals, material needs exceeded. I wasn't spoiled but I never wanted.

As a kid, I was naturally inclined in the arts: drawing, dancing, design. I was a pleaser. Everything I ever did, in retrospect, I did out of fear(of my dad's psychotic scream, not physical harm)or expectation. Instead of being nurtured in my natural inclinations, I headed in directions my parents steered.

My mom dragged us to church every Sunday, alone. Just her, with 3 kids in tow. Which I'm sure laid a foundation, but was never mirrored at home. Communication was not a priority. The changes that a young girl experiences throughout adolescence and into puberty, I learned in school.

I entered my Freshman year of high school as a queen bee. However, I was a nice bee....then I met a boy. A Senior. Long story short- manipulated my parents into allowing me to date, lost my virginity at 15 and had never had an educated conversation about sex in my whole life. Centered my world around said relationship, lost friends, became the target of hurtful gossip and was unable to share this struggle with my parents.

At home, I maintained my "clean" cheerleader, pageant winning appearance. Internally, hardening my perspectives and putting up guards. Skip a couple years, enter good-looking, popular boy. He "loved" me. Had my second sexual encounter and again completely revolved around the axis who was this boy. Dated this parent pleasing boy for a total of 3 years. Midway through, my parents discovered we were sexually active and ended the relationship. Again, I was able to manipulate and convince them to allow the relationship to continue. Did I mention my mom was expecting her 1st child as a junior in high school? One would think that might prepare her for a situation such as this. Geesh.

Moving on. Graduated, moved to the city for schooling, dumped the boy, met a new boy-a complete loser... that I adored. Met one of my best friends ever. Partied dangerously.....finished school and came back....here. Sexual promiscuity, more partying and working... in that order then repeat.....over and over. Lots of hurt and disappointment.

At this point I'm 22 years old. I meet a Soldier, home on leave, who shared my lifestyle. Yummy! But surprise! He's a gentlemen. He returned to his base and we wrote and talked on the phone everyday. Then, I went to visit him. He took me to the only five star restaurant I’ve ever been to -in the mountains of Colorado no less, in his dress uniform and a limo. He asked me to marry him and I said YES!! And that is the skinny of how I met, fell in love with and married my husband, Mitch.

After a year of marriage our planned pregnancy occurred..Trevor. Never pictured myself having a boy, but here he was and he was perfect. During my pregnancy, I had an overwhelming desire to do things differently and raise him in church, knowing God. In reality, it was a desire God gave me so that I could find Him. This was the beginning of the most important relationship I've ever known, with a Perfect Father. 21 months later, Nolan was here...another joyous boy..........then, Surprise! 21 months later, Daniel............ANOTHER BOY!!!

So there I was staying at home with three boys, age 3 and under, and I am overwhelmed!! Those first 5 years of Motherhood felt like literal Hell.. Of course there was much more joy than despair but it was the first time I felt completely alone, but yet, never was alone. Looking back, I'm sure there were points on that time line that could have been medically diagnosed as depression.. Luckily, I have an amazingly helpful and involved husband and a graceful God who never gives me more than I can handle.

Now, the boys are 10, 8, and 6 years old. I am often on a testosterone overload as the lone female of the household, but I can hold my own.

So this is me now, a 34 year old mother of three boys, a wife and most recently an entrepreneur. I am learning to take what I love and turn it into a successful business...that's the upside. The downside? My boys are entering adolescence, making some big mistakes and I feel powerless at times to stop it, though I know that isn't reality. I am a controlling, emotional, loving, giving, work in progress....a.k.a. Ellen.