serious stuff Archives - Don't Mind the Mess

Having The Talk

Posted on May 13, 2013 by Jess • 3 Comments

I used to feel like I did my best writing when things were hard. Right now I’m waiting for that to happen again.

These days it just seems to take so much extra effort. I can’t just let the words flow. I have to think twice before I can get the words out. I have to make sure I’m being appropriate. I hear that normal bloggers do this all the time, but I’ve never really been a normal blogger. I like living openly and honestly. And it’s particularly hard because I feel like writing about this stuff is important and I want to do it right.

How do I talk about things without being cryptic? How do I talk about a relationship when I’m only half of it and I sometimes feel like there’s whole parts of it I don’t understand?

I don’t have the answers yet.

And worse, there’s one big foreboding question which is quickly becoming the biggest concern.

Within a couple of days we will have two apartments. We will live separately. And we haven’t told Graham yet.

I did a little bit of googling and didn’t get much helpful advice. Be honest, all the advice says. Tell them it isn’t their fault. This is not so much my concern. What I worry about is that he won’t understand us.

The concept of feelings being hurt is one he’s still learning. (I think he still thinks getting your feelings hurt is a physical hurt.) The idea of fighting or arguing is foreign to him. He doesn’t really know what marriage is or that his parents chose a loving commitment together.

Hopefully once he understands the logistics and that we’ll be taking turns staying with him at the house, he won’t worry so much about the why. He doesn’t see us spending a lot of time together. He has seen us argue, although he doesn’t like it when we talk to each other, even if we’re having a pleasant conversation. (He prefers to be in the center of the spotlight. E and I have had to communicate via chat and email even when in the same room.)

In a way I guess it’s easier because he won’t understand. But I’m not sure that will shield him from hurt or sadness. If he’s anything like me, not understanding will only make it seem stranger and scarier. For now I can just hope that he accepts it as just another hiccup, the way he was unquestioning and perfectly happy about us going out of state for a month last year.

He will still have school and he’ll still have me waiting for the bus with him and picking him up off of it. He’ll still have plenty of time with his dad. Both of us will be there for soccer. And we’re talking about having dinner together once a week. He will stay in the same house and sleep in the same bed. The idea is to make things as easy for him as possible. That part doesn’t worry me so much.

I hope he can understand a little bit. And I hope he doesn’t understand. I just hope he’s as happy as we can make him, as untroubled and innocent as a 3-year-old should be.

Tags: Grammer, parenting, serious stuff • 3 Comments

Definitely Not a Separate Peace

Posted on April 29, 2013 by Jess • 31 Comments

Writing regularly about your life means that you discuss a lot of minutiae.

Today isn’t one of those days.

Today I get to tell you that Eric and I are separating. It’s not something I’m excited to do.

And I apologize to those close friends and family members who will find this out from the blog. I know it sucks. But forgive me for not wanting to get in touch with each of you individually to discuss really awful and sad news.

I could just keep up the fort here and pretend this isn’t happening. But I don’t want to do that. You probably don’t know this but last summer when the kids and I went to Texas, that was also a brief separation. And it was much harder since only a small handful of people were aware. Keeping up a good front was painful.

So this time we have an agreement that I can write about it.

As you would probably guess, it sucks. It sucks especially because I don’t want it but this isn’t the kind of situation where I get to veto it.

It’s not like things have been hunky dory around here. I like to think that even the strongest couple would really struggle with what we’ve been hit with the past few years. We’ve had a good 4 years or so of one thing after another. Long hours, stress, depression, kids, lack of sleep, anxiety, autism, the works. It hasn’t been easy for a long time. But I actually thought things were better lately only to find out that I was wrong.

It’s been a really long time to live with someone but still feel alone. It’s been a lot to go through without feeling like you’re both on the same team. It’s taken everything I have to go for so long without affection and connection and love. I’ve been trying to just push through the best I can. Both of us have. And with so much on both of our shoulders we have different priorities and different ideas of how our lives should work. Sometimes it’s tiny stupid things and sometimes it’s this enormous chasm.

Sometimes I just take this new change a day at a time and try to just live my life as best I can and be there for the kids. And sometimes I feel like my whole life is just crashing around me and I question every choice I’ve ever made since I met E.

Right now we have lots of things figured out. I stay with the kids from Sunday evening to Friday evening then pass the baton to Eric for the weekend. I found a very small (but still sadly expensive) sublet for a couple months. We’ve talked about counseling and I’m hoping we can start soon.

I am trying to look on the bright side. Weekends without the kids. (Though there will still be Saturday morning soccer.) A bed to myself. Weekdays won’t be much change since I almost always do dinner and bedtime by myself anyway.

But despite a few perks it’s hard to have everything up in the air. I worry that anything good that happens over the next few months will just be a sign to him that we’re better off apart. I wonder how we can make progress when we hardly see each other. And then there’s all the things to worry about if it doesn’t work.

My biggest concern, though, is about being able to reach out. I am fortunate to have an incredible, supportive community. I know people from many different walks of life. I know people on their 2nd marriages. I know people who have worked their way through terrible times in their marriages only to find themselves even stronger than before. I have these people for help and advice. But I don’t know that E has any of that.

I won’t be able to tell his story here, obviously. But at least I can tell mine. Hopefully there are other people out there who understand or take a little comfort knowing they’re not alone. I feel a little better writing it, even if I still have trouble talking about it.

The blog is not going to turn into all-separation-all-the-time because that’s not how life works. I have to find my footing. I have to figure out where things are heading for me. I have to keep myself going and keep the kids playing and keep everyone fed and tucked in at night.

If you don’t know what to say to me, don’t worry. I don’t know what to say to you, either. It’s a lot easier talking to a disembodied group of readers than it is talking to a person who’s looking right at me when it comes to this stuff.

I’m just going to try and do the best I can here and everywhere else. I don’t know what’s going to happen. I don’t know what I want to happen. I am scared of being alone and starting over. I am scared of staying in a relationship that makes my life worse instead of better. I am scared that I’m going to try everything and it won’t be enough.

All I know right now is that he stopped calling me “Baby.” He’s calling me by my name, which he hasn’t done in nearly 7 years. It makes my stomach turn every time.

It wasn’t until these last few years that I wanted to just run away from my life. Not forever, just to find space to breathe and close my eyes and just float away for a while. But unless someone can find me a long-term stand-in and a free sensory deprivation tank I’ll still just be right here. Trying to find me way in a strange life.

Tags: It's Complicated, me me me, serious stuff • 31 Comments

This Is My Home

Posted on April 15, 2013 by Jess • 6 Comments

I normally don’t post about awful stuff that happens. There is so much talk and I don’t feel like I have anything to say. Today, for some reason, is different.

This is my marathon runner just about to cross the finish line.

It’s from the Twin Cities marathon a few years ago.

And here’s my marathoner crossing the finish line of his first half-Ironman.

It’s one of my favorite pictures. We hadn’t been together very long, but I already knew this was the man I would marry. I tagged along for the epically long race so I could snap some pictures and getting to see the look on his face as he saw me at the finish line was worth it. I remember watching the families there and thinking that some day we’d go to races with our kids and cheer.

We didn’t go to the Boston marathon. It’ll be a few years before we go to another race. It’s another casualty of these years where Eric works long hours and our kids are still young. But we know how it is at a race. And we know how it is in this city.

We have been in Boston for almost 3 years. It’s not that long in the grand scheme of things, but it’s long enough that this has become my favorite place. We live in the city limits. When people ask me where I live and I say, “Boston,” they say where and I tell them my neighborhood and they’re always surprised that I actually live in the city of Boston. I do. And I’m proud of it, as silly as that seems.

In a couple of years we will probably have to move away for Eric’s job and I haven’t come to terms with it yet. I can’t imagine going anywhere else even though I’ve lived all over the country. I entertain fantasies that we’ll come back as empty nesters. That we’ll live in an apartment in Back Bay, that we’ll be able to walk to the Common or to Fenway or to Copley.

I love our crazy streets, our terrible drivers, our bizarre accents, our decrepit transit system, our gruff exterior and our mushy insides.

It is strange to see people online sending love to Boston and knowing that includes me. It includes our whole wonderful city. People know that when it’s your city it hurts you in a different way.

This is also the first time I’ve been a parent during a tragedy that hit me on a gut level. It’s been surreal today to be glued to my computer screen while I’m asked for snacks every 10 seconds. My kids are too young to understand any of it and they’re too young to hear about it. Those days will come. Now I just have to deal with the strange juxtaposition of reading horrifying news while I try to quell a budding shriek.

An Instagram from early in the afternoon

We took two trips to the playground today. That was as far as we got since I left the stroller in the car which Eric took to work. So we didn’t venture out into the city to enjoy the holiday. At the playground there were plenty of other kids enjoying their day off school. I watched Graham with the clinical eye I have after reading the daily reports from his aide at school. He initiated play with peers completely independently. He greeted people. He was basically the model of social skills. He played with some older kids and got them into his favorite game: rolling his trains down the slide in a race.

And more than once today one of the kids asked, “Is he a boy or a girl?” Upon hearing he was a boy they’d say, “They why does he have pink shoes?” or “Why is he wearing nail polish?” (He is sporting a lovely new blue I picked out for him last week.) I answered with, “Because he likes it,” and they seemed mollified.

One kid asked about Graham’s shoes and upon hearing they were “girl shoes,” Graham said, “They’re girl shoes and boy shoes.” He was matter-of-fact, maybe just a little defiant. Stepping in to correct someone who just didn’t understand.

It was a bright spot in a rough day. Even though it was followed shortly thereafter by a tantrum when it was time to go home from the playground.

Every day has this mix of light and dark, not just today. Today was darker.

And in its way, also lighter.

Tags: Boston, parenting, serious stuff • 6 Comments

My Day As a Mother Will Come

Posted on February 25, 2013 by Jess • 8 Comments

I’ve gone on record here a few times saying I think two children is enough for us. A lot of it is because I don’t feel a need for more kids, I don’t feel like we’re incomplete. A lot of it is because I don’t know that I have it in me to take three little ones through the years of early childhood.

Being around in the parenting blogosphere means seeing mothers who are not just good at what they do but who enjoy it with every ounce of their being. I see mothers who swoon over their babies, their toddlers, their preschoolers. They do not want them to grow up. They do not want them to go to school. They want them at home, with them, all day every day.

I’ve long ago made peace with the fact that that is not me. And I’m trying my best to still be a good parent to my kids right now. People tell you things like, “You’re the best parent for your child.” They can say that, but I can’t help but think that at this stage right now with someone else they’d get more. More doting, more play, more interaction, more hugs, more everything.

It’s particularly hard now when we’re just coming off of a vacation week from school where Graham was home all the time. Tessa and I were sick, I spent days fighting off a horrific toothache, but that child and his energy were there all the time and the more I needed a break, the less likely he was to give me one. A couple of times I broke and said, “Give me some space,” which probably doesn’t mean much to a 3-year-old. He responded by getting closer and asking to sit on my lap.

I spent plenty of hours last week with Graham on my lap, which means watching Tessa from the couch and letting the mess remain as it is. It was not a clean week at our house. He wanted school, I wanted school, but we were stuck with each other and we made do.

So no, I’m not perfect. Nobody is, right? I try to tell myself that those other mothers who are so happy with their lot have their own shortcomings. We all do.

Part of what helps me feel okay with my own limitations is knowing that my day will come.

I don’t know when it will be exactly. I don’t know how it will manifest. But somewhere along the way I will find my sweet spot.

Maybe it will be helping with math homework. I am good at teaching and I miss it. Maybe it will be helping my kids find ways to learn over summer break when they have too much time on their hands.

Maybe it will be reading our way through the library together. I love books and I’ve been buying books for my kids since before I knew who their father would be. Perhaps it will be when they’re learning to read, maybe it will be a tradition for us to lay down together and read chapter books.

Maybe it will be working through the trials of teenage-dom. Maybe I will be the mother who dotes on her teenagers the way others do on their babies. Maybe I will be that mother whose teenager says she’s their best friend.

Maybe it will be something I’ll never see coming, something I never knew I had in me.

But it will be something. When my kids are grown, they will look back and think of things I did for them that meant something to them, just like I do about my mother.

I don’t know yet how it will shake out. I will have to watch them grow and do my best and wait for my moment to come. For now, I won’t turn myself into something I’m not. I will be myself, the mother I am as best I can.

Tags: me me me, parenting, serious stuff • 8 Comments

I’m Jess and I’m an Atheist

Posted on February 11, 2013 by Jess • 33 Comments

Once upon a time I was very religious and it seemed like the whole world was out to get people like me. Now I’m not religious at all and yet it still seems like the whole world is out to get people like me. But one thing has definitely changed. I used to be vocal and open and proud of my religion, but since leaving religion I’ve been quiet.

I don’t want to do that anymore. I want it to be okay to be a parent and an atheist. I want people to know that atheists aren’t evil or hateful. Most of all, I made this choice because I wanted to live an honest life, so it doesn’t seem right for me to hide this anymore.

So here it is: I’m Jess and I’m an atheist. Don’t be afraid of me. Don’t hate me. It’s okay, I promise.

I Promise I Don’t Hate Religion

Seriously, I don’t.

Think of it this way: if you’re a Catholic, no one’s going to assume you hate Presbyterians, right? It’s just not what you believe. It’s not what’s right for you.

Being an atheist is the same kind of choice. This is what I believe. It’s right for me. Just because I don’t believe in organized religion doesn’t mean I find it abhorrent and want it destroyed.

I am a strong believer in religious freedom. I think we should all be able to choose whatever we want to believe, and that should include choosing None of the Above.

So What Do I Believe? What’s My Moral Code?

For the first few months of realizing that I didn’t believe in God, I really struggled with this question. Ultimately, though, the answer was simple.

I have a definite moral code. I always have. In fact, one of the things that was difficult for me was when my own morals and the morals of my religion were in conflict. My moral code hasn’t actually changed much at all. I’ve always had an inherent sense of what I’ve found right and wrong. I’ve also changed that code as I’ve experienced life and seen the reality of life.

I believe in respecting other people’s lives and their right to happiness, respecting property, respecting the world around us. I believe in equality. I believe in helping people. And I really strongly believe that I have no right to tell someone else how to live their life, unless they are endangering other people or themselves.

I rarely find myself in a real moral dilemma, and when I do it’s only because it’s one of those situations where you can’t predict the future and know how things will turn out. You just have to do your best.

But, Really, There Are No Atheists in Foxholes.

I disagree. I honestly haven’t missed religion. I haven’t missed meetings. I haven’t missed prayer.

Our family hasn’t had the easiest time the last few years. A difficult diagnosis is the kind of thing that would make you want to believe in God, but I haven’t once thought of going back to religion or wanted to go back.

I can’t predict my future, but I find it unlikely that I’d ever return or feel the desire for heavenly guidance.

Isn’t it Sad Not Believing God Has a Plan For You?

No. In fact, I find it freeing believing that a lot of things happen by chance. I don’t have to get angry at God when bad things happen. Instead I feel aware that bad things can happen any time and that I only have so much control. I don’t have to blame anyone. Stuff happens. I just control my reaction.

I don’t believe that I control my destiny. I do as much as I can, but I know my own limitations.

So What Exactly Do You Believe?

If we want to get technical I’m an Agnostic who leans Atheist. I default to Agnostic because I don’t feel like I can authoritatively make any statement about what’s really true. I just know what I believe. I find Atheism more rational and appropriate than Deism.

Basically I’m not coming down and saying God Doesn’t Exist in big bold letters. Who am I to say that? Who am I to make that kind of statement? I just know what I believe, how the universe makes sense to me. I don’t want to tell anyone else how things work or what they should believe.

Why It’s Hard Being an Atheist

Polls show I could never be open about my beliefs and achieve any significant elected office. There is one atheist congressman. One in state office. And that’s it. (There are even state Constitutions that forbid an atheist holding office.) My husband can never be a leader in the Boy Scouts and if my son identifies as an atheist when he’s old enough to join, he wouldn’t be allowed to be a member. The Girl Scouts are more open about their membership, but it’s not a cut and dry issue there, either.

It’s funny being on the opposite side of where I was before. It used to feel like being religious was such a minority because you never saw it on television or in movies. Those people didn’t believe in God. They were open about it. I let that matter way too much. The truth was that nearly everyone I knew went to church, even if it was only a few times a year. They were all affiliated with some kind of religion. Real life wasn’t like television at all.

It’s something people tend to keep quiet. Of course, there are a few atheists out there who like to make a big fuss and give the rest of us a bad name. Then again, isn’t that true of everything? If we were more open about our status wouldn’t people see that not all of us are jumping up and down to sue school districts about the Pledge of Allegiance and prayer? My feeling on those issues: sure, it sucks if you are regularly reminded that you don’t fit in, and refusing to say it is isolating. But in the grand scheme of things, this is small potatoes. Still, if a person who believes in God finds it offensive that someone wants to take it out, how would they feel if they had to recite a Pledge saying “without any God”? I don’t ever plan to bring a lawsuit like that, but I find it sad that we’re not more sympathetic towards each other when it comes to this kind of stuff.

But by far, the hardest part about being an atheist is if you’re one of the people who comes from a religious family. It’s hard to make a choice that you feel good about that causes pain to people you love.

So You’re One of Those People Who Worships Science Instead of God?

Nope. I think science is important and amazing. But I also think literature and art are pretty important and amazing, too. I rely heavily on science because it is a search for absolute knowledge and truth. I know enough about scientific research to know that.

But, honestly, if I had to choose between science or art for the rest of my life, I’d choose art any day. (I’m married to a scientist. Admitting this could get me in trouble when he comes home today.)

But What About Your Kids?

Like any kids, mine have been born into their parents’ beliefs. I plan to teach them about religion and allow them to attend church or other services with friends and relatives. I will not try to hide it from them and I won’t lie about my own beliefs. I’m very well educated about religion. I know my Bible backwards and forwards. It does seem kind of weird to me that my kids won’t necessarily know the biblical symbolism that’s all around us in the world. I will encourage them to study it because I think it’s a big part of our society.

Once they’re teenagers they’ll be free to attend any services they like. I may go with them and I will talk about it with them.

Most of all, I will not be disappointed or upset if they choose to become religious. I want them to explore the world and make their own choices.

So that’s it. That’s me. That’s what I believe. I’m not going to be afraid to say it anymore. And I hope you’re not afraid of me for saying it.

Tags: me me me, serious stuff • 33 Comments

More Money, More Problems? SERIOUSLY??

Posted on January 28, 2013 by Jess • 5 Comments

I spent a while on Twitter this weekend getting all in a huff about this post on Boston.com. I believe registration is required so I’ll sum it up for those of you who can’t read it. In the post, a reader insists he is part of the middle class. Here is his evidence:

He makes $310,000 a year
He owns a $250,000 condo
He drives a Honda
While there’s no threat he’s going to lose his job, he could. And would lose his health insurance. And last time this happened he had to take a job paying $85,000 a year.
He has two 4-year-olds and pays $2,800 a month for day care.
30% of his paycheck goes to taxes.
He skips a nicer car and house so he can go on European vacations and eat out.
He has no debt.
His wife is a stay-at-home mother.
He can only securely buy middle-class things ergo he is middle-class.

I’m not exaggerating when I say this article really left me angry. I could write a whole post about any one of these bullet points and about how well this guy has it and how crazy he is for insisting he doesn’t have things that great.

We are living in Boston. We are paying more in rent than this guy is on his mortgage. We have two kids and cannot afford day care so I am a stay-at-home parent by default. (Even if I started working again, almost all my income would go to childcare and I’d be in danger of losing my job the same way I did last time: because I couldn’t get the flexibility I needed to take care of my kid.) We cannot afford to go on any vacations, not to mention European ones. I doubt this guy’s definition of “eating out” is the same as ours. We have six figures of student debt we have to pay off, most of which is in deferment due to our current income. And we’d be pretty darn thrilled to have a job that payed $85k a year as our first choice, not to mention a backup.

I don’t resent this man his success. In fact, I think he’s living the $300k a year life pretty well. He’s making good decisions. He’s not living beyond his means. I don’t care how much money someone makes. But I do think we all need to acknowledge when we have more than enough. We need to appreciate our lot in life, whether it’s financial security or family security or whatever.

Honestly, I say this not just because I wish this guy had more gratitude for his life. (Where his family has the luxury of having a stay-at-home parent by choice AND daycare.)

It’s because someday, if all goes well, we may be that $300k family. And when that happens I don’t want to have a mansion or a fancy car. I want to live frugally and save money for our kids to go to college and budget accordingly and pay off our debt.

But more than anything, Future-Me-With-Money, I want you to know when you have it good.

Sometimes I think about what it would be like if we made as much money as this guy does. I think about the savings we could put aside. I think about the debts we could pay off. I think about buying a house that has enough space and is in a good neighborhood. I think about being able to visit our families regularly. All things that $300k guy seems to take for granted.

And I’m writing this right now so that if we do get there, I can remember that I will not do that. I will not look at my life and say, “I am driving a practical car and live in a practical home and make practical financial choices, therefore I am not financially comfortable and well-off.”

Hopefully our “lean” years will teach us those lessons. Though even now, I am thankful that our “lean” years have a degree of security and comfort that are more than a lot of people around us. Eric and I both have advanced degrees, we could both find work doing any number of things, and while I may end up in a job where I’m overqualified and underpaid, I still have the job experience to get that. Right now Eric is in training, which sucks, but at least he’s on a track that gives him a lot of options for career paths that are secure and well-paid.

And friends, I do not care how much money you make (or don’t). But I do hope that you appreciate what you’ve got. I know I’m definitely going to try harder.

Tags: Boston, serious stuff • 5 Comments

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