The Muggy Air, the Crickets are Gossiping, and AA

Again.  It's almost the end of August, and still the humity hasn't let up.  But as my sister in Boston reminds me with a smile in her voice, this is South Carolina.  So I sweat along and know that when she's buried in snow, I will be outside in my light sweater, enjoying the crickets, only slowing because I'm not so panicky about the heat.

I decided back in January, the 15th, 2011 actually, that alcohol and I not longer were not a good mix.  I wish I had a wild story.  Something really stupid -- I mean, colossally stupid.  I don't.  It was merely a weekend my husband had gone away to see his football team, the Steelers, play in Pittsburgh and i was home with the kids.  I had my double of bottle of wine.  I was going to put my youngest to bed early and crack up that cold Chardonnay.  The morning came.  I was in bed.  My computer was closed, safe placed upside down so not to block the fan.  There was nothing intriguing in my history -- I hadn't "gone" anywhere I shouldn't have (well, except to shop for that great corner fake fire place for our bedroom...).  I even checked my cell phone.  Good thing here -- I couldn't actually find my cell phone.  But it apparently had been safely tucked in my purse in the car. I did plenty of other outrageous things, but I was quite at home kind of drinker.  I was always the designated driver, but you can be sure I had my cold bottle of Chardonnay waiting for me at home.

I didn't walk through the doors of AA for many, many months.  I did okay on my own, and we even had my husband's beer in the house.  It didn't bother me.   Since my sister had recently become sober I thought I'd go to an women's meeting  It was great.  It was amazing!

But January 15th, I knew that was the end of the drinking line for me.  I wasn't sure how I was going to face that evening, nor the next.  But at the moment, I was facing that moment.  That entailed putting up the "evidence" so the kids didn't' see, throw out the empty double bottle of wine.  Trying to pretend you don't drink when you live with teenagers is a totally and complete joke. But I go through the motions because it makes me feel better.  They both have sworn off drinking even though I've explained that many people can drink and just merely enjoy the good wine or beer.  Nope.  They'll not have it.  That's okay too.

So, today, I set three goals.  Very simple ones.  Very achievable ones.  I was going to clean out the coat closet --  but here in South Carolina our coat closets are about 2 inches square, apparently there was only real room for four size 6 cutes, an old computer some odd pieces of games, and some paint samples.  Done.  Guinea pig cages.  Austen did the water bottles and the food, I did a quite scoop of the three cages. Done.  But then another goal snuck up on us -- the room was beyond repair and since we've been trying to redo her room, cleaning was imperative.  A few baskets and we were on the path to somewhat of a temporary recover.  A lot of clothing for Good Will, as she will only wear boys clothing.  We were done.

The other goal was 30 minutes journaling or writing.   So here I sit at 11:41 pm writing, the back door open listening to the crickets who can't come in here and complain some more.  It's quiet.  College starts tomorrow.  Hayden finished her last book of the series.  Austen and Bob are asleep and I am still awake.  But this okay.  I had been getting up early -- taking my pills at 4:30, resetting the alarm and getting physically out of bed at 5:30.  The alarm -- my phone.  My husband -- one unhappy soul after two or three  of these disruptive wake up calls.  Austen is in our bed, I think I'll go sleep in her room..

I accomplished my goals.  I wrote in my journal.  I emailed my sponsor.  I memorized the Serenity Prayer, which today I really, really, really needed....


God, grant me the serenity to face the things I cannot change,
The courage to change the things I can,
And the wisdom to know the difference.

So, what will be, will be -- my husband will be what he will be.  I adore him, but after 22 years we have our moments too.    Just need a lithe serenity, courage and wisdom.  There will be another challenge around the bend, and God -- or my higher power will give me the strength to remember the Serenity Prayer and I'll keeping hanging in there, one day at a time..  Hopefully, making good choices.  Good or bad, I have a great support group, sponsor and family who helps me end every day.

Now if I could get the crickets to tone it down as well as the humidity...

2 am - Chaos Under Control

I brought my younger girls to their friends house today.  My friend was working but I was going to watch the kids at her house because according to my girls "they have way cooler toys".  At least this is when you're six, and the coolest amount of toys you have is the amount of monster trucks, of which we have known.  Case in point.

I brought my computer knowing that I was feeling 100% and I would probably lay on her bed and watch a movie on the Great, Invincible Netflix (I know, I know -- it's chewing up Mom & Pops, but really I think Blockbuster did that years ago -- so I try and let the guilt go).  Now laying on someone else's bed might seem like an odd and quite a personal thing, but there is something about Renee and her home that make you feel nothing is sacred.  I know this because we've laid on her bed talking about life, the kids, the husbands.  Other people have joined in, sometimes on the floor, sometimes on the bed.

So, I settled myself down to "Precious", which with the interruptions was the only way I was going to watch it, because I had heard it was sad.  (After I watched it, I realized that sometimes sad needs to open our eyes a bit more.)

In between interruptions I noticed how much laughter there was.  How everything belonged in its place.  It was ultimately peaceful, and I was immediately thrown into the silent mode of "how can I make my house this way, etc.  Never, mind she's spent years purchasing baskets, etc, organizing.  She ran a day care for almost 20 years -- of course, she's organized.   "Here, Mr.  Smith, I know you came with a daughter, but we're unable to locate her, and this little boy is only two year older than her so you'll avoid the potty section -- after Annabelle was only 2 mos."  Either that or I'd find poor Annabelle in onto of the chinchilla cages.

So, when I couldn't sleep tonight, instead of laying there stressing about how dirty my kitchen was and how I had so many knick knacks and how my six year old had treasures of all sorts, I got up, stopped complaining, and cleaned the laundry room.  I cleaned the kitchen.  I washed the floors (don't be impressed -- it was just swifter stuff!), and watered the plants.  Among my finds was some older incense which I am burning in the family room, which will be the room that will be hit up tomorrow.

I don't have to live in this chaos.  I do have to teach my children how not to thrive in their chaos, but I actually, though it's completely sexist, find comfort in cleaning for my family.  Knowing that they will wake and instead of my 19 year old starting her day at a crazy hot dog joint in dirty kitchen, she'll smell the clean floors, and see the wiped down counters.  Even if it doesn't make a difference in her day -- it will in mine.