One More Letter to Skipper

 Letter 2/Dear Skipper: Where in the World Is Your Pause Button?

Good night to you.

Still Feeling Lost & Broken Inside

And it's still too personal to delve into here.

FOOD

• 2:15 am, because that's how long the madness/sadness persisted....another lemon panna cotta in wedding china cup with couple spoonfuls All the Summer Berries on top.I think there were 7 or 8 panna cottas in all. Today, Dan and Punch discovered them, and loved them, plunging their spoons into the quivering cupfuls. And then there were none. Will def make again, and maybe cut sugar back even more, to 5 T.
• 8:30 am, coffee with whole milk. Salted cashews.
• Noon, 4 slice bacon, 2 slice Ezekiel toast, one with butter, one with crunchy PB. Second coffee with whole milk. Half-cup very mediocre deli potato salad. 2 crunchy pickles.
• 7:45 pm, dinner, some mushroom soup, small cheese ravioli, 1 slice cucumber, 1 bite broccoli, 1 Ezekiel toast w butter, 8 whole-grain saltines w butter.
• I think I will have a glass of milk for dessert.

TCOY

1. Support group via Zoom.
2. Walked Sug around block.
3. Walked briefly around farmers' market, wearing mask and keeping social distancing,,and bought a couple of healthy things--crunchy new pickles from Pickle Icious and mushroom soup from Spoon Me Soups. Next time, I'm going back for the chilled mango coconut blend. 
4. Nap.
5. Planted ranunnculus bulbs, trimmed forsythia shrub that was growing wild.

$ MONEY SPENT OUT OF POCKET

• Montclair Farmers Market. Spoon Me Soups, $12 for one frozen quart. Flower farm, 2 potted succulent plants, one for Fig and one for Punch, $10. Pickle Icious, $8. Total, $30.

Total daily spend: $30.

Ongoing monthly spend as of May 2: $30.

Avg daily spend: $15.

Back Home in NJ

Punch and I traveled back from Connecticut on train and bus. Not gonna lie, she has been pushing buttons with mean comments and bad language. It can be very trying. Hurt people hurt people, I keep in mind.

All the while, Dan, Figgy, Mimi, Sis and I do all we can to get/help/inspire Punch to clean up her act. But the time between 15 months, when she left our home, and 6 1/2 years, when she moved back in....tough stuff. The family therapist put in place for Punch at age 6 just recently crystallized things, helped me see things in perspective: Punch can't risk getting angry at her birth mom; the connection is too tenuous. And besides, mom has a new brunette baby girl. So P.  takes her anger out on us. The person she is truly angry at, deep down, is her mother. But she is too young to be in touch with those feelings.

Tonight was the ice cream social/middle school orientation for sixth graders and their adults.

Seeing these familiar faces [kids] brought me comfort as our children start out at a big new place:
Vaurie, Finn, Owen, Maya 1, Maya 2, Lilith, Luci, Rea, McKenna [spelling is wrong], Ellia, Kaira, the boy-girl brown-haired twins whose names I always forget, Cooper, Jake..and younger siblings, including Magnus and Aubrey...

And these parents/caregivers, some of whom I know better than others:
Sarah, Marni, Beth, Dan, Beth, Russell, David, Jamillah, Lisa, Tor's mom, Marin and Aidan's mom, Jessi, Mike, Coco's parents, Vanessa, Michael, Heather and her husband, Emery, Claudia, Manny, Susie, Julia's mom.....

TCOY

1. Did my makeup.
2. Walked in NYC.
3. Going to try and rise for 7 a.m. support group.
4. No sweets. Not even from ice cream truck at the school social, which was there to provide free treats for all.

MONEY SPENT OUT OF POCKET WEDNESDAY AND THURSDAY:

• Took Punch to dinner at Dinosaur Bar-B-Que in Stamford; Sis didn't feel well enough to go. We brought her a brisket sandwich and a side of mashed potatoes with gravy. With tip, $50.
• Fairway in Stamford, flowers for Sis, box of Grape-nuts; half-gallon milk; and two high-quality dark chocolate bars and cute gift bag for P to give Fig, belated bday, $28.
• Stamford train station, lemon Luna Bar for P, $2.25.
• Starbucks, Port Authority, two iced drinks plus $1 tip, $11.

TOTAL DAILY SPEND: $91.25.
TOTAL MONTHLY SPEND AS OF AUGUST 28 [now added all other days on]: $2,767.24.

AVERAGE DAILY SPEND FOR MONTH SO FAR: $98.83.

[I added in all Cape and travel days now.]

Punch was on Cape for 10 days with us, but then followed by 10 days with Mimi in North Carolina,
Atlantic City etc. So I should try to bring our bill down until she returns. It is spiking high with Cape Cod spends.

Hot, big-money spends in August, or how I spent our bread:

🥖CVS, groceries and Rxs, $71.
🥖Whole Foods, vegan chocolate bday cake, regular and vegan pizza ingredients etc., $82.

🥖Grand Central Dining Concourse, fast food Chinese lunch for two, $24.

🥖Round trip train fare from Grand Central to Stamford for Punch and me, $25.

🥖Round trip DeCamp bus fare for Punch and me, $31.

🥖Fairway, CT., flowers for Sis, cereal, milk, bday chocolate and gift bag from P to Fig, $28.

🥖Dinosaur Bar-b-Que, CT.  for me, Sis and Punch, w tip, $50.

🥖Salon blowout, tip and Aveda brow pencil, $68.

🥖 Whole Foods, groceries, $71.

🥖 Health food store in Southampton, Dr. H. lip balm and Hu coffee beans, $31.

🥖 La Couronne, Montclair, dinner to go for Dan and me while watching Saturday night movie, $66.

🥖 Cafe Giotto, Montclair, dinner w Elaine, my part with tip, $53.

🥖Fill gas tank twice on Cape Cod, $46 x 2= $92.
🥖Idle Times bike shop rental for Punch from noon Saturday until 5 p.m. Sunday, $31.
🥖T.J. Maxx, four designer dresses, Adidas sneakers, knock-off lightweight Burberry scarf, Olga bra, Lauren pillow, shorts, etc. etc., $338.

🥖Pizza+/fancyish restaurant dinner with Punch after swimming in pond in Brewster until after 7 p.m., $77.

🥖Mac's Market & Kitchen, lobster, clams, kale salad, mango salsa and other Sunday dinner ingredients, $53.

🥖Brewster bakery, including cookbook I somehow lost, maybe a message from God because it was packed with recipes for sweets, $25.
🥖2 Massachusetts mugs, one for Cape and one for home, $28.
🥖Commando.com, black half-slip, $65.
🥖Arnold's Lobster & Clam Bar, fried clam belly basket plus tip, $30.
🥖Pure Vita, the new CBD [not for me] and natural home care store with essential-oil bar and pretty pineapple throw pillow case for Cape house, votive candles, seaweed/lavender bath sachets, $52.
🥖Stop & Shop, Cape groceries, $29 + $40 + $52=$121.
🥖Lobster roll supper with P. at Adams Lodge in Wellfleet, $32.
🥖Eastham info booth, pink sweatshirt, $30.
🥖Mass Audubon annual family membership, $65.
🥖Sunbird breakfast sandwich w citrus mayonnaise on grilled ciabatta plus expensive coffee beans from, of all places, Portland, Maine, plus tip, $27.

🥖Audubon gift shop, small turtle rug for home; bird gift for Figgy; goat milk body wash; Bee Boss Body Balm, which I love for lips, too; small owl wall calendar for family, with member discount, $88. 
🥖Vineyard Vines, candy-pink gingham skort, orig $98, now on sale for $68.99, plus shipping, $79.
🥖Mac’s Market & Kitchen, lobster, scallops, salmon, lemon, cornbread square, crackers, $49.

COMPARISON SHOPPING. That long Cape Cod vacay in August really drove the numbers up so far.

TOTAL SPEND FOR MONTH OF JULY [STARTING JULY 5; I LOST A FEW DAYS THERE]: $1,610.81. 👛 🎯 ⬇️
JULY AVERAGE DAILY SPEND: $59.66!  👛 🎯 ⬇️

TOTAL SPEND FOR MONTH OF MAY: $2,348.24.

MAY AVERAGE DAILY SPEND: $75.75. 

TOTAL SPEND FOR MONTH OF APRIL: $3,634.28.

APRIL AVERAGE DAILY SPEND: $121.14.

Rough Day in the Fields

Just reaching out into cyberspace to check in with you.

Can you see my right hand, reaching? It's a hard-working, keyboard-punching, dishwashing hand...with two rings.....vintage gold w amethyst on my ring finger, silver heart band on the pinky...

Having a hard time with Punchy again.....yesterday I was writing here about dance leotards and tights, and now about ups and deep downs.....good heart, tough stuff...disrespect, defiance......though she is making some nice girlhood friendships, and that is golden....but when I step back and look at her behavior toward us, my heart is heavy.

It must be very complicated to be part of another family when your birth mom is raising a baby sister, who kind of looks like a mini-me version of your Brunetti self. [I spell Brunetti like that on purpose; it's another nickname I call Punch, with her shiny brown hair.]

I am not happy with the way I let my anger go, saying mean things. When it's after 10, and she's still roaming around, and left her clothes in the bathroom when getting into the shower at 9 after gymnastics and decides she needs a drink from the kitchen, something hot in a cup.....I just lose it sometimes....I have some ideas about what I can do differently, and one involves putting on my jacket and stepping outside to look up at the stars, even if it's bitter cold outside. Another involves getting back to yoga, and daily spiritual reading.

I am planning to get better at that. I am a work in progress.

I hope and pray. Pray and hope. And I also take steps to turn my wishes into actions.

Hope your day is going well. Peace & grace.

$ MONEY SPENT OUT OF POCKET

• Two Montclair Literary Festival tickets to Joyce Carol Oates event with Sis, $40 each but ticket includes copy of the book. Check this link. The festival is another thing Montclair does right. https://succeed2gether.org/montclair-literary-festival/ $80.
• Rushed dinner before meeting. Picked up sushi for Punch, turkey burger for me, vegan patties, clementines, broccoli salad and more at Kings, $28.85.

DAILY TOTAL: $108.85.

Early to Rise & Late to Bed

Above, standing by Clarks Pond, 
where Punchy’s grandparents live. 
We joined for the lovely feast 
and Punch stayed for the weekend.

One treasure next to another, 

the tiny $3 lamp from a thrift shop 

on the Cape and the snowy white popcorn-knit headband from Le Willow 83.

I was in a dark mood on Black Friday over hurt feelings near tail end of 2.5-hr. drive home. I was lost.

But we did a lot w our Punch-free time today. I got to early yoga. Dan went to Home Depot to get mini blinds for our bedroom and bathroom, and installed them. He caught up on our laundry. I went to Gina’s Bakery for a sunflower-shaped loaf for the family and to my support group--and found comfort there. I zipped to the farmers market for pickles and then carried out a fashion mission*, drove to CT with Sug to see Sis’s pretty Christmas tree, walk our dogs by the marina and eat dinner at the Water Club, where I got to see her colorful Cuba pictures.

Then I drove home in a downpour and Dan and I went to see the 10:05 p.m. showing of "Can You Ever Forgive Me?"--starring Melissa McCarthy as Lee Israel, a down-on-her-luck writer who forged letters by famous authors, from Dorothy Parker to Noel Coward. It starts in 1991 and is based on a true story. Now I’m curious about Ms. Israel’s book.

The film was a great NYC period piece. But did we women really dress like that in the 90s? Not like Lee, whose wardrobe was frumpy and masculine, but the other women? I can’t put my finger on it, but It seemed peculiar. Maybe because most of the female characters owned little bookshops--maybe their style was unconventional and artsy. I was wearing short skirts, tights and opaque black tops in the early 90s.

Good night to you.

*I did not complete my fashion mission at the Montclair Farmers Market, which by now many vendors had abandoned. I could not find accessories among the cured sausages and pickle barrels. I was hoping the beeswax candle vendor would still be there, with those buttery yellow treasures, but no--after all, it was a holiday weekend. I had some fashion money from Dan, earmarked for something pretty, and went to nearby Le Willow 83. It’s a luscious edit for toddlers, women and men by chic Christina, who runs bustling Le Salbuen Cafe [w. her husband, John] around the corner, by the firehouse. Oh, the ultra soft, long pastel alpaca wool belted sweater with snowy popcorn knit pocket! Breathtaking. But over $300, so even the small-biz Saturday sale discount couldn’t get me in it. Yet there was the snowy popcorn knit headband, which I love, and beautiful long gold chain dangle earrings. [You also get a 10 percent discount if you eat at the cafe and then purchase something in the boutique.]  I know I can be superficial and materialistic but these purchases lifted my spirit big time. Sometimes a Hail Mary or a walk can work, but sometimes, accessories are the answer. Call me Shallow Al?

Bring on the Crazy

Everything feels off-kilter. Hell Monday.

1. Punch watched too much "Supergirl" on Netflix this evening and freaked out when we said her time was up--even though she had fair warning. It was frightening and upsetting. I believe this is fallout--a reaction related to seeing birth mom and baby sister 8 days ago. Things she wants more of and cannot have? Wanting to control things out of her control? Not liking adults managing her life--adults who can let her down? I am a pocket philosopher, I know.
2. Figgy is so busy with ornithology mid-term, studying hard, working. It seems like every time she turns around from the laptop to talk to me/answer a How are you doing? question, she has a different face mask on [oatmeal, blue clay etc.] I think maybe she has been breaking out from stress or something. I hope she is not taking on too much. This semester, she has organic chemistry; physics; genetics; ornithology; and maybe something else. She has several full-day Saturday birdwatching trips, often a long drive away. And a boyfriend. She is not sleeping enough. God bless.
3. Dan is unhappy and difficult even though he has a great magazine assignment. He rallied to put up our orange Halloween lights and go to CVS for tealights to put in our cute jack-o’lanterns on the mantel but then vanished into darkness of the mind & spirit again. This is all hard to bear when it is prolonged in your partner.
4. And, since everyone has to fall apart together--though no, we’re not really falling apart--even Sug got into the act, biting at a cyst and getting an infection. The vet’s office was crowded, all of us eager to help our cats and dogs. I got there at 3 [late for 2:40 appt, parked where there was no meter, escaped ticket] and left near 4:30 but love Dr. Cameron & Co. And the receptionist, Joyce, who said it was so busy yesterday that she needed roller skates to get around!
5. So what do you think someone attached to the substance sugar does on a day like this? She eats the perfect brownie perfectly wrapped in cellophane that she purchased for Punch, who loves brownies. It was baked in New York for fabulous Cafe Angelique, which has a sister location in the old train station in Tenafly. She was in that town to pick up a turquoise choker from a high-end consignment shop; she had taken 6 months to pay it off. And now that she is home, her hair looks dirty and she is tired and when she tries it on in the bedroom at 9 p.m., the choker does not at all measure up to her glamorous recollection of it. And her young girl acts mean and her dog tries to bite and her husband is angry and her college girl still isn’t home yet. The woman thinks fashion is her armor in a shifting, hard world but sometimes even fashion cannot protect her--or buffer her from the pain.

I pray for peace all around.
The girl went to sleep in her Supergirl Halloween costume, something about feeling protected or strong.
Tomorrow I’m meeting my friend/former editor in NYC for lunch and will bring my laptop to do some work before or after in my inspiring metropolis.
I am flying to Miami Saturday for four days as guest of Sis! I hope my turquoise choker, and my family, will rise to the occasion.
Below, the old train station at 1:54 p.m. today.

Good night.

The White Led to the Dark

I'm at Sandwich Theory in Montclair now, working in A.C., trusty iced coffee by my side. Punchy is at her friend's, gleefully making slime. We provided some ingredients this time--cornstarch, 3 bottles of glue. I'm picking her up by 5:30 to drive her to 2-hour gymnastics team training.

I may look like a nice woman, saying thank you for my Avocado Dream sandwich [a grilled veggie extravaganza on GF bread] when the young woman with dramatic dark eyelashes brings it to my table; smiling at someone who catches my eye to engage me; greeting Paul, the talented floral designer and candy maker in town when he says hello.

But I am a villain. Trust me.

It began innocently enough. You know I have been doing my best to skirt flour, sugar and alcohol consumption since April. You may have noticed I have not been falling into dark depressions, the ones I have sometimes written about. I have lost about 15 pounds, maybe more. My blood sugars are better. My mood has been calmer and kinder.

Yet here I am again in a cycle of vicious anger, now sadness, guilt, regret and shame.

My OA sponsor's point is that cravings get reduced, disappear, when you stop eating the triggering stuff. That has been the case. How else to explain no urge for the very best fudge, lined up in pans, and an Iced Mocha Sparrow on Cape Cod? No yen for buttery gingery snaps, ice cream and brownies in Maine? It's not as though I felt deprived.

But Saturday night, I had a little fresh cherry crisp at Dan's sister's; no ice cream with it. I wasn't going to, but then rationalized that it was ok, since the topping contained oats and the filling, many freshly pitted dark cherries. Then Sunday, when the family was coming for breakfast before we hit the road, I went to bustling Chase's with Punchy. I didn't feel like cooking when we had to pack up for 450-mile drive. I figured I could stick to a piece of the buckwheat blueberry muffin and small scallion/corn tart. [Buckwheat bread, toasted and buttered, worked well earlier in the trip.] I got a few white flour blueberry muffins, too, and one Cheddar apple scone. I nibbled here and there.

Then, the hellish drive home....11.5 hours....accidents ahead of us and back-ups....fights about cell phone use with Punchy [she uses mine periodically, and I worry about the amount of time and some inappropriate sites]. And....I had not planned my food. So instead of getting the little salami and cheese tray in the food store at the crazy-busy rest stop, I got a Whopper Junior at Burger King. Small, but still white roll. When we stopped for dinner in Massachusetts, after getting the flat tire changed, I got a medium toasted "Thanksgiving sandwich," with turkey and stuffing. White roll. I did not eat sweets, stared down donuts and candy and ice cream. Had pistachios, almond crackers, local goat cheese from a Maine farm. I had many large cups of ice water.

But under the best of times, driving with Dan can be bad. Add some white bread to that mix. It was not pretty. All hell broke loose. [Yet I have noticed that when we drove back from the Cape in May and June, for example, it was not hellish. It must be what I bring to the mix.]

I thought to myself, Figgy has been good. Don't attack her when you get home. But once I saw she had not taken out the bottles from the gathering she had July Fourth or carted the pizza boxes to the curb, I was pissed. Then I noticed that my large, expensive impatiens plant on the stoop was shriveled up and dry. The sink was full of dishes. I saw red. I was even angrier. It was very ugly. I became a she-devil.

And I was still a she-devil this morning.

And here I sit, still wearing a heavy black she-devil dress.

Yet I must work. I will have to figure out how to move through this mess.

The most painful part is that I can never take my cutting words back. Never. Even if there is much beauty I offer and share, will my family be able to see beauty above evil?

Thank you for listening.

P.S. Fig did get all boxes and bottles out last night and did all dishes this morning.

Fighting the Urge

Please excuse the weird spacing here. Not sure what happened.

Today is Day 19 since I started with my new OA sponsor, and have been avoiding sugar, flour and wheat at his wise encouragement. Yes, you heard this cake lover right.

In that time, I have baked Peanut Butter Cookies twice, using oats and peanut butter, apple juice and coconut oil [and sea salt and a couple other ingredients]. Dan and Figgy like them--can't fool Punchy.

I have had a few falls--I felt shaky and carbohydrate-craving, and then reached once for a whole-wheat English muffin with blueberry preserves and butter and another time for long pretzel logs. Just today, I felt shaky, having had breakfast at 9:45 and not eating lunch till 2:30. I ate 2 spoonfuls of Punchy's green tea ice cream, one of her favorite treats, and some of the granola I got for Figgy, mixed in with plain Cheerios.

Just saying though, it's hard. Two minutes ago, I followed a Food52 link to the recipe 

for Jacques Torres' Chocolate Chip Cookies. 

[Google if you must. It ran one summer in the NY Times, I still remember, and it is an 

incredible cookie, involving sea salt, chocolate disks and a 24-hour resting period in the 

fridge for the dough.]

Onward I go, onward I walk. I have been turning to delicious non sweets, such as the 

fabulously creamy cashew milk with coffee and cacao from Juice Culture in town; the 

baby eggplants I roasted with fresh lemon juice and torn mint leaves; the smoothie I can 


make with frozen banana and pure unsweetened Valrhona cocoa powder from France.

Benefits [This is for my friend, Nan, who always asks, But how do you feel? She is right to ask.]:

1. I have not been losing my temper as much. I am on more of an even keel. I am not as likely to turn into a monster who yells. In other words, I am more patient.
2. No dark depression.
3. My blood sugar is better.
4. I am getting along better with my husband. 
5. I am sleeping better.
6. I am napping less, and for shorter times when I do.
7. I have gotten to my 8 a.m. yoga class 3 times in the last 8 days.
8. I am more present. Stay in today.
9. I have lost several pounds. I have many more to go.

Hope all is well in your pocket of the world. xo

Day 2 After Sunday Breakdown, Inch by Inch

Feeling better, eating better--or is it the other way around?

Stay in today, stay in today, my friend says. He said he sometimes even tapes the note on his car dashboard.

I am grateful for his wisdom.

If we don't stay in the moment, and in the day, problems loom much larger.

As in, when Figgy was sick in high school and a bit beyond.....I/we would crumple up and want to die if we thought about her future/our hopes being crushed, etc. College? Scholarships? Senior prom? Prom dress? Awards ceremony? Summer job? Life? If we stayed in the day, step by step by step by difficult, arduous step....it was still painful, even acutely so, but we were more effective in dealing with a life-threatening eating disorder and accompanying behaviors. It was that being present, and being helped by experts, that allows our dear Figgy to be in recovery now.

Thank you, God. And thank you, too, for Figgy's good, true friends who stood by her side--as she wavered and fell deeper and deeper into darkness--during illness. And for the friends and family who stood by my and Dan's side.

I wish you a good day.

Day 1 After Sunday Breakdown, Feeling Jittery but Working

When I read Susan Cheever's memoir Note Found in a Bottle: My Life as a Drinker years back, I wished for reports from the gutter, the hard times, the lows. The moments when she struggled mightily, when she wallowed in the pain.

Maybe I just missed them.

Our home internet still off, so I dashed to Marcel on Valley and have a small cup of local wild mushroom and barley soup at my side at this community table. Plus: the free water, bread and butter on the side.

Must work and then meet Punchy's bus at 4 p.m.

I want to remember this feeling.....the aftermath of guilt and shame...the worries about damage I have done...hopes I have dashed, hurts I have inflicted. I don't want to revisit that painful, powerless anger.

My goal and my want is to model good behavior, to be a good person.

Signing off at 3:06 p.m.

Thanks for listening.

PLEASE NOTE: I decided to call my dark, vicious mood Sunday BREAKDOWN--though it wasn't officially a breakdown, I was definitely at a breaking point--so that I could use it as a starting point to study recovery from it.

Depths of Darkness & Depression--Again

Another lost day, until 6:30 p.m., when I took a hot bath with Tory Burch bath bubbles. [Cathy and her daughter, Elizabeth, gave me the pink tube a while back.]

Anger, darkness, depression.

Soon closing the curtains on this dark day. Maybe it was not such a good idea to skip Mass and sink into reading the Styles section. Not a drop of exercise, either.

It occurs to me that giving up sugar [none of that Cake Boss cake today, even though those around me were indulging] makes me mean. I have never been addicted to other substances, so I don't know if it is the same when someone stops with alcohol or drugs. But come to think of it, I have witnessed some withdrawal symptoms as ugly and vicious. I did not know at the time what I was witnessing.

Welcome to my world. And the thing is, I don't plan to never have sweets. That is what separates me from the drinker who gets sober and the drug addict who gets clean. But I want to limit them dramatically compared to my past high consumption.

I wish I could say I pray to be better, but I am too angry to pray.

Better to Light Just One Little Candle

When I have enough cash with me, Punch and I light a candle or two in the back of the church after Mass. The suggested donation, to tuck into the metal box with the slit, is $4.

We have often lit one in memory of/in honor of:

• Her daddy.
• My daddy.
• Dan.
• My mommy.
• Her mommy.
• Figgy.
• Auntie/Don.

But today, after a hellish attempt at getting her to Mass, she stayed in the car. We were so late, I think I caught 10 minutes. It was long enough to pray, to breathe, to interact with another mom who is supportive.

And this time, I slipped a folded five dollar bill into that slot and lit one white pillar candle for Punchy. Just Punchy. She is acting out big time. It has been rough. Her birth mom had a baby girl a couple of weeks ago and Punch is dying to meet her. To have a role in her life. To hold her. To see her mom. To be important enough to be there. But we have been put off.

Our Punchy adores babies. She knows every baby on the block. She asks me if she is swaddling her [very realistic] baby doll properly, if I would have thought the clothes Baby is wearing would have been warm enough for Figgy when Fig was an infant.

She has a beautiful heart, arms eager to hold and catch that baby sister. She is earnest; she wants very much to be a role model. She is trying so hard to be worthy. Of course she is more than worthy!

Our Punchy’s little heart must be breaking. And that little baby's path may be unclear, too; I don't know.

God bless Alexa, I prayed as the flame caught and flickered. God, please bless Alexa. [I don't use the name Punchy when praying to God.]

Good night.

WRITING Sugar: A Love Story

I'm proud of this essay I was assigned to write for AARP.org. I know 
many of you 
[Eileen, Kim, Nan, thank you!] have already seen 
the link on my Facebook page, 
but I'm sharing here for my writing archives, too.

SUGAR: A LOVE STORY
One writer documents her personal break-up with sugar, made especially difficult because some of her best memories are made of sweet stuff.
https://www.aarp.org/health/healthy-living/info-2018/quitting-sugar-health-benefits-fd.html

Good night, sweet dreams.

TCOY

1. I moved my body again today, two loops up the hilly block with Sug.
2. Ate half a baked apple.
3. Had a healthy breakfast that did power me through my work morning: a lot of baby spinach sautéed in a little olive oil with one egg; some nice wide Parmigiana shavings melted on top. Enjoyed with hot sauce and freshly ground black pepper and two pieces of good grain bread with Irish butter.

The Word RAGE Is Buried in ANGER

I'm updating this with pink sentences at 11:55 a.m. the morning after, to incorporate a comment from my doctor. I thought about it as I was drifting to sleep.

I’m so cranky and bitter and mean tonight. It’s a long story and I feel too cranky, bitter and mean to tell it. I am furious at 2/3 of the people under my roof. Not even a hot bath could help; I tried.

"People are going to let you down," my doctor said recently. "That is life." He has a Spanish accent, what appears to be a good heart, the ability to prescribe antidepressants and anti-anxiety meds--and a sign outside his office door that says TODO ES POSIBLE [EVERYTHING IS POSSIBLE]. I think about his comment a lot, but I still get angry when people let me down.

Big Swirl of Anger w Hot Fudge on Top

Anger, yes. Hot fudge, no. Just an image.

I posted the above title and 8 words at 9:13 a.m. That was when I was feeling mean and petty after squabbling with Dan about grocery overspending. I know I was nasty and I regret that. Now it’s 9:38 a.m. and oh, my, what can occur in 25 minutes:

1. Punch and I used to go to Starbucks before school once a week, for the warm bacon, egg and Gouda sandwich she loves. Ordering on the mobile app gets her out of the house, backpack slung over shoulders, like nothing else can. Carless, we haven’t been able to do it for a while. Today, on the last leg of a 24-hour Ford rental car, we had 125 Stars* in our bank for a free item. We got a second sandwich for finicky Punchy’s lunch. After she ran back to the car with our order, like a dutiful little carhop, she realized she didn’t have the sandwiches. We had to go around the block and park again. Strike 1. Our carefully calibrated school arrival time had been lost; now she would go in through the office and get a tardy slip.
2. She knows the rules. Fourth grade is not a work office where people can bring in Starbucks drinks. So when she gets her tall Frappuccino before school, she drinks what she wants and I save the rest in the freezer for her. Strike 2. She smuggled it in in her backpack, straw and all, and denied that she was doing so, said it was on the floor in the back of car.
3. If you do that, I’m going to follow you right into the office and get it from you, I said firmly. She did, so I did. Only problem was, I wasn’t used to this rental car and when I opened the door to race out, the car started rolling backwards in the parking lot. Strike 3. Thank God no one was parked behind me. I dodged into the Ford and put the gear shift in Park.
4. I looked like a crazy ass, white faux fur hat, no makeup, watery blue eyes. Standing in the office insisting she give me the Starbucks drink. I wasn’t mean, just assertive. I finally had to tilt my head to the principal’s office and say, You don’t want to get other people involved. She unearthed the cup. Home run? Doubt it. But the nice man walking out with me—he had just brought his daughter or granddaughter in—was supportive. Was I mean or doing the right thing? I asked him. No, they act like adults and sometimes you have to pull the adult card. You were being a parent and that’s what you’re supposed to do. I thanked him. He had brown skin, I have white, but side by side and together, we can be our best.

Have to go, get some groceries [on budget], wash hair, prep for article interview. Thank you for listening, I have to be very vigilant as a parent. I just hope I can be vigilant enough. Xo.

*When you pay with the mobile app, you earn 2 Stars for every $1 spent; gift card purchases excluded toward Star accumulation. Every 125 Stars cn be redeemed for a free food or drink.

Fighting the Good Fight

I had to fight my way out of the dark mood. Had to put on the gloves and put up my dukes.

• Ate a healthy breakfast; 2 hard-boiled eggs, whole-grain toast topped with mashed avocado and a shake of chili pepper flakes. My friend Rachael is a nutritionist in town, and I'm planning to start a program with her where you are allowed to have wine and a dessert once a week, but you otherwise crowd out sugar. I'm jumping on the wagon now. Again. 
• Took it step by step. I allowed myself to lay on the couch while Dan read The New York Times, as he does every morning. I told him I was getting closer to my office that way, instead of going back to bed.
• Allowed myself to watch a movie: "The Lovely Bones," the 2009 movie based on the 2002 novel by Alice Sebold. Our book group read it, and it is beautifully written. I thought I had never seen it, and still think that, but the story came back to me as the film progressed--that's probably because of Ms. Sebold's vivid writing. What a novel, what a script, what a view of heaven. [Note: This was pricey, but no worse than had I had lunch out. The OnDemand charge was a steep $14.99. I didn't have the option to rent, which is much cheaper--only to buy.]
• I put on Sug's blue L.L. Bean winter coat, a recent hand-me-down from Buttercup. I pulled on tights under my skirt, laced up my sneakers, zipped my jacket. This is a big deal. When you are depressed, even tying your shoes can feel like a chore. 
• Sug and I walked the 20 minutes to town; she waited outside Chase while I deposited a check and outside Juice Culture while I ordered a bowl made with organic whole milk yogurt, blueberries and strawberries. We walked back home, her tail high as she pranced along. She scratched at our front door with her paw; she knew her dinner waited on the other side.
• I hope to continue to function. I'm at my computer. I've lit pretty candles. I'm going to make vegetarian chili. 

HERE IS THE SEED I'M NOT SHARING, THE UGLY TRUTH: I HURT THE FEELINGS OF THE PEOPLE IN MY FAMILY BY WAY OF TERRIBLE THINGS I SAID. I WAS HURT, AND FELT UNAPPRECIATED AND I LASHED OUT. I CANNOT ERASE MY MISSTEPS. I KNOW THAT FULL WELL. I CAN ONLY MOVE FORWARD AND DO THE NEXT RIGHT THING. BUT THAT IS WHAT CAUSES MY DEPRESSION: GUILT, SHAME AND DARKNESS OVER BAD BEHAVIOR. THANK YOU FOR LISTENING. HERE I GO, TAKING MY NEXT NEW STEP.....I HOPE I CAN LEARN TO TAKE A DEEP BREATH WHEN PEOPLE ACT LIKE JERKS, INSTEAD OF UPPING THE ANTE. 

Bitter, Bittersweet & Lost

Yes, that is possible, even when living in a house with a family and a fluffy white dog. In a house where a beeswax candle burns in a short brass holder and the father makes a stir-fry and the bath runs long and hot. In a house where two daughters have good, true hearts. Yet sadness and bitterness can prevail in the mother; like a monster, she lumbers around, trying to scare. Her beauty must be unearthed.

Supercrank

God, please help me get my act together, contain my anger, breathe deep and be kind. Exercise and fresh air will help. So will the warm bath and hot cup of coffee coming up soon. Thank you.

Owning My Anger

Remember the Joan Crawford character screaming at her daughter about using wire hangers in the
1981 movie, "Mommie Dearest?" Well, I'm not that bad. I might yell sometimes,
but I have true love and a true heart. Link from HERE.

That "Big Miss Cranky Pants" post I wrote last night? Now I feel guilty about it. But I'm not taking it down.

This is all part of the process of owning my anger. Writing helps me confront and work through issues. And while I like journals sometimes, I like blogging better because I'm not writing into a void. I'm being heard. I like crafting sentences, choosing words that I know you will read.

But I feel guilty about calling one person a Sweater Thief, another a Bedtime Snacker Slacker, another Last Minute Man. I feel remorseful, even ashamed, about my snarky tone. I love my family, I do. But getting angry at them doesn't mean I don't love them, does it?

I would like to present as all sunshine and yellow roses, fluffy clouds of whipped cream and pillowy marshmallows, for a soft, padded landing.

But I'm not. I'm human. I get angry. It is ok and natural to get angry sometimes; it is how you deal with the anger that divides the wise from the stupid.

I truly felt hurt, disrespected [the sweater]; taken for granted [the grab and go dinner on short notice]; exhausted and overextended [the Bedtime Snacker Slacker]. I had just practiced some relaxation visualization techniques on the couch, in a workbook, while Punch did her reading, to learn to transport myself to a calm place when I'm getting agitated. I would say I got less angry than I could have last night, but I want to learn to express my unhappiness or frustration in a way that doesn't leave me feeling dark and deflated after.

Can I learn to calmly express it? To sidestep going off the rails and calling names, raising my voice?

Yes, I can.

I still have a lot of growing up to do. But part of that growing up involves accepting all parts of myself and being the best version of me I can be at any given time. BTW, I didn't make up that saying in pink. I stole it and adapted it; it was printed on the back of a light blue T-shirt I bought Punchy at our church carnival in June. The Youth Group kids were selling the shirts.

I have some more wallowing to do in between work and work searches.

Thank you for being there, and, I hope, bearing with my mood last night. See, there I go again, worrying that you won't love me because I was honest about my anger. Thinking that I shouldn't show you my rage, only a pretty sweater or new lipstick.

Thinking that I have to stuff down my imperfections with handfuls of the very ordinary Hershey's Kisses Punchy has.

Long road ahead for my personal growth. As God is--and you are--my witness. Thank you.

Big Miss Cranky Pants

Sending this out to the universe under my roof.

1. Hey, Athleta top with built-in bra, I'm talking to you. We've been friends for years of boot camp but why is it at yoga that your scoop neck seems so low that I feel indecent doing a down dog--even with a regular bra under the built-in bra? I could always count on you to look good. This morning at 8 a.m. yoga class, I felt embarrassed. 
2. Dear Last Minute Man, I know we all need dinner and I was planning on making it, but it's stressful to walk in from therapy appt and short latte break to hear that you are leaving for a meeting in 15 minutes and would love some dinner to grab and go. Fortunately, the chopped onions and sliced mushrooms browned quickly in the skillet and I could swiftly fill and fry a whole-grain quesadilla [and tell you how many grams of carbs are in the tortillas]. But if I hadn't planned well, this would have been even more stressful.
3. Dear Sweater Thief, you mean you borrowed my brand-new orange Tory Burch sweater, the one with long, feminine bell sleeves, without asking? The sweater I recently WON in a fashion contest on apprecier.com, the sweater with the $250 price tag? And you put it haphazardly back on a hanger and there are small black marks that look like ink or paint near the hem? And you're sorry, you didn't mean to, but you don't know what they are? For the near future, hands off all of my clothing and accessories. I guess you can still use my perfume and beauty stuff.
4. Hey Bath Lover, can't you hear me filling the tub at 10 p.m.? I'm stressed out and need to relax. Don't look dejected because you can't take a bath at the same moment. Our 1920s home was built with only one bathroom.
5. And while we're on the bath subject, hot water heater, don't run out when it's finally my turn, after running the washing machine and dishwasher and two people showering. Don't leave me in the cold.
6. And you, Bedtime Snacker Slacker, make up your mind. I don't have all night for someone small to decide between Cheerios with milk and a pudding cup. I'm desperate to take a bath.
7. Hey Christmas cactus, would you just hurry up and bloom again? I don't feel like keeping you around til next Yuletide for flowers. That's too much dreary for too little pretty payoff.

Miss Sunshine should/could/might be back tomorrow. Will let you know if she resurfaces. Good night.