As the fifth of eight children growing up with an alcoholic father and a mother struggling to make ends meet, I concluded early in life that taking care of myself was mostly up to me. Thirty years later and in an unhealthy marriage I still clung to that childhood belief. As my marriage continued in a desperate decline, I remained cautious with confidants. Countless kind friends were willing to give a listening ear or a bit of advice, but the combination of my fear of being found out and my shame for being in a bad marriage kept me acting
Month: September 2014
Every year I buy a new box of color crayons… for myself. The smell of the newly opened box takes me back to the stress-less days that were my childhood. The pointed colorful tips are potential waiting. I relish the back to school season. New teachers for the girls, the starting again of routine and schedules, more structure and activity to the days as compared to the laze of summer, and a clean slate for the school year ahead. But I confess that getting back into routine is a challenge. After every drop off to the school at 7:35 a.m.
ISIS seizing Iraq. Syria suffering under Assad. Putin shamelessly invading Ukraine. Michael Brown dead in Ferguson. Beheadings of beloved journalists. Ebola spreading like wildfire. The seemingly endless barrage of violent crises and human devastation around the world this summer has left me feeling an underlying sadness to all of the otherwise joyful events of a season of Saturday morning bouquets from the farmer’s market, sunning lakeside with friends, and starlit evenings with a glass of wine. More than one thing can be true. I’ve repeated this phrase so often my friends mimic me when I get into my “either/or” thinking.
Susan and Angela are pleased to welcome their Legal Assistant, Christi Leupold, as Guest Blogger having just returned from maternity leave to provide perspective on the complexity of big life changes. I screamed. My plan was to have an epidural and not feel any of the labor. But my plan was thwarted when my epidural did not work properly. Instead, I was in extreme pain as I brought my daughter into this world. Seconds later, she was safely in my arms and I was already starting to forget about the pain. I counted them, ten little toes and