And so it begins...

Got my legal separation paperwork from the lawyer for review. Looks to only need some minor tweaking before they get signed. Wish me luck...

I stayed...

...because the first night I met him he was so charming and made me laugh.  Because he watched the Princess Bride with me even though I could tell he hated it.  Because he bought me a coffeemaker before we even started dating.  Because he always knew what to say.  Because he was there when I went through a really tough situation and didn't judge me for it (then).  Because he could quote Kids in the Hall. Because I believed him when he said he wanted to be a better person for me.  Because he said I was the best thing that ever happened. Because I thought I could fix all the bad things that happened to him over the years.  Because I saw what kind of person he could've been and was when he chose to be.  Because we got pregnant. Because I married him.  Because I didn't want to be another divorce statistic.  Because every time he hurt me, he was always so sorry afterwards. Because I believed him.  Because when I left him the first time, he promised things would be different.  Because when I went back to him and moved to South Carolina, I didn't have anyone else around me anymore I knew and felt so isolated.  Because when we moved back to New York, I didn't want people to know what was really going on and didn't want people to worry or be disappointed.  Because when I got sick, he took care of me.  Because he was a great cook.  Because he could sing.  Because he told me he'd change.  Because sometimes he did change a little bit.  Because he'd call me lazy, bitch, fatass, stupid, and I started to believe it.  Because he told me he'd take my daughter away if I left.  Because he told me I couldn't make it on my own.  Because I felt ashamed.  Because I really believed if I kept trying hard enough, it would get better.  Because I loved him and I believed him when he said he loved me.  Because I thought the good times would balance out the bad. Because he always knew what to say to bring me back.  Because I didn't want to hear "I told you so" by everyone if I left.  Because I was afraid.  Because he threatened to kill my cat and when the cat died, the vet said it was most likely feline leukemia, but I always wondered...  Because I wanted a family that was whole and not broken.  Because I didn't want to admit I made a mistake.  Because I kept hoping that he'd drive off a cliff and that would just solve everything.  Because he still did nice things for me and I wanted to believe that was the real him.  Because we had a house, a child and dogs and I didn't know how I'd do it all alone.  Because he told me if I left, nobody would want me and only he would put up with me.  Because he would surprise me with baked goods and coffee.  Because he went to see Lord of the Rings with me at midnight because I wanted to, even though I knew he hated it.  Because he said he's acting this way because he got laid off and his mom died and I need to be more understanding of him and his needs.  Because he said he's acting this way because I made him do  it.  Because he wore me down.  Because he taught me how to hang drywall and change the oil on my car.  Because I thought I deserved what I got.  Because I thought if I could  just a little bit better, if I could stop being so stupid, if I could try a little harder, it would be ok.  Because there were times I thought it was better.  Because I loved him.  Because I wanted to make sure that the day I walked out the door, I could honestly say I tried everything I could to make it work.

Sardine?

Hurry up folks, picnic season's almost over!

Wot! Behind the rabbit?

The breakfast really doesn't look all that horrible. I'm more intrigued by the addition of the ceramic rabbit...

Ugh...

I found the most revolting recipe in the Betty Crocker box last night. Words escape me.  I don't even have the ability to come up with a fun title.  The horror, the horror...

Self Realization

I've been spending a lot of time being introspective lately.  I'm not happy with my life and I'm not sure what to do about it.  This year has been about changes and I think I'm waking up to the fact that having all my options open is really scary.  I focused so much on the getting out and recovery, I haven't had time to figure out what's next.  I guess I'm just tired of living day to day and crisis to crisis.  As terrible as it sounds, despite as hard it was being married, there's a part of me that misses the security even if I didn't have the happiness.  I don't know...

Maybe it's time for me to make some bigger changes.

Bad Day

I hate September. I just feel fragile the whole month counting down to the 27th. I lost so much this past year so I think it's affecting me more than usual. I've been trying to stay positive, but it's starting to wear thin.

I feel like a failure. I'm broke all the time to the point where I think I need to apply for reduced lunches for Jaime. That's such a blow to my self esteem. I hate it. I hate struggling. I know it's supposed to get better in the end, but what if it doesn't? What if everything I went through was for nothing? Some days it's just hard to keep going.

I suppose I have to take responsibility for my situation. I made a lot of mistakes over the years. Now all that has come back to bite me. I wish I had made better choices. I wish I wasn't stuck in the situations I'm in. I wish I could have done better.

Wherein Alex revisits recipes that will most likely never be found on Pinterest.

I have to say, these Betty Crocker recipe cards were a goldmine.  Today we visit, Recipes Children Can Make.

Now, I'm pretty sure no child likes meatloaf in the first place.  I never did, and it was a universally acknowledged truth that my mother made the best meatloaf ever.  I cannot understand who would think it would be a good idea to wrap the meatloaf around hard boiled eggs.

This disproves the theory that anything with bacon is edible.  Maybe the horror of this picture is due to the poor lighting, but I don't believe it.  I believe there are cheese nightmares in my future.

I'm sure the cookies are good. However their presentation with the scary Poltergeist clown kind of ruins it for me...  

I think I may revisit more man friendly recipes next.  After all, men love their potatoes...

It's got raisins in it. You like raisins.

Today at work I found a horrifying collection of Betty Crocker recipes circa 1971.  So horrifying... they're awesome.  So, I had to rifle through and take a few shots.

Mmm... nothing says dinner like Crusty Salmon Shortcakes.  The olive garnish on top is an especially nice touch.  This is supposed to be a memorable treat to wow your party guests. I agree that it will certainly leave an impression.

But, what about a nice apertif? Let's look under Men's Favorites...

This is some sort of cocktail called Pow! Yes, the exclamation point really is part of the name.  To make a glass of Pow! requires 2 cans of beef broth, 1 cup water, 1 1/4 teaspoons horseradish and 1/4 teaspoon dill weed.  Add a celery "swizzle stick" for garnish and you've got yourself a nice man pleasing mug of meat juice.

Wow they even manage to make ice cream look revolting...

Stay tuned for Part 2 - Stuff to make with kids...

Sorry I caused all that cancer

So, next week will be the four year anniversary of my father's death from lung cancer. Despite the fact that it's been several years, I still think of him every day.  It's especially hard considering the troubles I've been going through lately. I could use his presence in my life right now to keep me steady and on track.  One of my regrets is that I caused my father undue stress and worry about me and my life choices.  And I wish that he could be here to see the steps I've taken over the past year to move on with my life on my own.  It's been especially hard because he understood better than anyone else has.  I didn't have to say anything, he just knew and he brought a quiet peace to me when I needed it.  I loved my dad because he loved me without any judgement.

As I've alluded to before, September is a very difficult month because as I approach that anniversary all those memories come flooding back.  Some of that time was like being trapped in a fog of pain that I just couldn't find my way out of.  Cancer is a terrible thing.  The pain of watching a person waste away, to know you cannot do anything to stop it, it's indescribable.  I don't ever want to see another loved one go through it again.

But what bothered me most was when people ask about dad and I would tell them about the cancer, the first question was almost always, "did he smoke?"  And I know people didn't mean it to offend, but let me tell you, it pissed me off every single time. It was an unspoken statement that somehow he had brought it upon himself.  I remember my anger when we were struggling to give Dad the care he needed, to pay for his medications, to get financial assistance.   I heard so many times that there's money for breast cancer, but not lung cancer. There's no funding for lung cancer because people don't see it as a desirable cause to fund.  This despite the fact that lung cancer is much more lethal than breast cancer.  It's just the pink ribbon brigade has better PR.  Why bother with lung cancer?  If people didn't smoke in the first place, they wouldn't get it.

Well, you know what? You should bother with it because it kills people.  It killed my dad.  And my dad didn't deserve to go through the suffering he did.  He didn't deserve to waste away like he did. And I don't care if it was because he smoked.  I loved him and he's gone and every time someone asks, "did he smoke" it's like a knife in my heart. Again and again and again...

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