Author: Outrunning my demons

Amish windows

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8-2-16 001This week we got our new windows. You probably are wondering why I would even talk about something so boring as home improvements. The exciting story here is not in the what, it is in the who. We had the Amish come out to work on the project.

Let’s just clear up the boring part first. My husband and I bought a house built in the 1990’s when everyone was on the air tight energy saving kick. Having an air tight house has been great when it comes to heating bills. We barely pay anything to heat our house during the cold Wisconsin winters. However, we have had moisture issues since the day we bought it.

The moisture can’t escape. Anytime we had temps below freezing, condensation would form on our windows. Sometimes it rained inside our house with water dripping down our windows pooling into the wooden sills. Our house is like a rain forest. We  bought an air exchanger to draw the humidity out of our air tight house. But by then the damage was done to our windows. They needed replacing but we couldn’t afford to do it in our earlier years.

The picture above is the window from our bedroom. We have been breathing in black mold for years now. We tried bleach, we tried everything, but we couldn’t fix the damage done without replacing them.

We were referred to an Amish man to do the work of replacing our windows. The first step was to have him come out here to look at our windows and take measurements. He needed someone to drive him. The first obstacle was giving him directions to our house. Get out your iPhone and type in our address. That obviously wasn’t going to work. He did get lost coming out once because he had difficulty explaining the directions to different drivers. It is probably like trying to read a map in a different language.

After he took the measurements, he made the windows himself. I thought that was pretty impressive. Most people around here know that anything Amish made is high quality.

Then he came over this week with three other men. They arrived in a large diesel truck driven by a heavy set man in overalls. He looked like a rancher from Texas, not that I have ever seen one anywhere besides TV. Then he drove off.

It took the men a day and a half to complete the job.  At first the men seemed pretty ackward around me. In their culture I don’t believe that they are comfortable talking to a married woman without her husband around. I felt naked around them in shorts and a t-shirt. No matter what I wore, I don’t think that I could ever be as modest as an Amish woman. I didn’t want to offend them.

I heard the men talk a lot in German. I didn’t understand a word even though they were speaking the language of my ancestors. When they were working outside, one of the men asked another what the buzzing sound was coming from a machine. The other man replied, “I think that is what you call an air conditioner.” They were very respectful and friendly, yet we all eyed each other in puzzlement by the differences in culture.

The second day, the four men came back to finish the job. This time they brought along two little boys around the ages of 7 and 10. The boys didn’t seem to do any of the work besides carry a few light things. Instead they followed their dad around intensely watching him and learning the family trade. I wish that our culture had the same attitude regarding our youth instead of throwing them out into the world after high school with no job skills.

The Amish workers seemed interested by my children watching TV. They seemed fascinated to see us drive off in cars, especially the teenagers. I’m sure that they had just as many stories to tell about us as we told about them. There was nothing bad to say.

I am very happy with our new windows and the work the Amish men did.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Anniversary race

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The sailboats are snuggling in their harbor slips deceptively calm before the start of the race.

On our actual anniversary date, I decided to join Paul as crew on his sailboat race. It is risky for a married couple to do, especially on their anniversary date. I was one of the few, if not only, wife out racing last night with her husband.

I have heard a lot of wives say that they can not race with their husbands. In the excitement of the event, the husband at times can raise his voice and speak harshly to his wife. I spoke to someone this weekend who said that she cried after her husband yelled during a race. They got into a big argument, and never raced together since.

I work with my husband, so…

Then there are the wives that don’t want to go sailing at all. There are a lot of reasons why. They are afraid of being on water and boats. Boating is the only mode of transportation that doesn’t terrify me. Another really good reason….they are afraid of spiders. Again, not me. I don’t even mind touching them. Or maybe, just maybe, they can’t stand their husband. Who knows? I love sailing. What is there not to love? Every time is a different adventure even if you go to the same place.

I prefer cruising over racing though. Can I let you in on a little secret?? There was more yelling during our anniversary cruise than on our anniversary race. Not to worry, it was nothing major. Paul accused me of not caring about him anymore. He is right. Sometimes I am uncaring. I lack patience. I lack empathy. I think that part of growing up in survival mode has made both of us lack empathy. We needed to have a thick skin and not care. But that is no excuse.

Sometimes I wish the honeymoon phase of marriage lasted a little bit longer. Maybe it would have if we didn’t have a newborn on our first anniversary. Who knows? It seems like those annoying quirks that I thought were cute at first didn’t stay cute for very long. Now we have a mutual annoyance for each other. Then add busyness and stress to the picture which tends to naturally give me less tolerance and makes me more critical.

It takes a lot of work to make a marriage great after being together over 20 years, but it is well worth the effort. We are trying to be more supportive, not take each other for granted, and take the time needed to make our relationship a priority. It is difficult because neither one of us has ever been shown this.

After the race, we celebrated our anniversary in a little dive bar. It was one of the few places that serves food after dark. Surprisingly, the food was great. We played a game of darts together and talked to another sailor that wandered in. He told us that he wished his wife would sail with him. Then we went home and decided to call it a year.

19th anniversary sail continued…

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And just like that, Sunday morning arrived and it was time to sail home. It was a warm day with agreeable winds that would blow us back home.

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This is a picture of Paul attaching the whisker pole to the jib sail. This allowed us to open our sails wide to let the breeze carry us home.

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It can be lonely out on the open water. We saw a couple of birds, boats, and this big cargo ship on the horizon. Paul said that the only time he sees me fully relax is when I am on the sailboat. We can be heeling at a sharp angle with me calmly snoozing.

Today we have been married for 19 years and together for 21.

A few years ago, I saw an older couple walking together hand in hand on the beach. We had the opportunity to talk and I asked them how long they have been together since they looked so happy and in love. They responded that they have been dating for 6 months or some similar period of time. What I don’t see is what I want to be. I want to be that couple that has been together over 20 years walking hand in hand on the beach.

I worry about the changes that this next year will bring. We are facing the loss of our first parent this coming year. Saying good-bye has been a difficult process. Plus, in a few short weeks, we are sending our firstborn off to college and into the adult world.

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On the last leg of our journey, another sailboat pulled up along side of us. They warmly greeted us with shouts we could barely hear then continued sailing a different way. Our paths intersected for a short time.

Paul had to be back early for play practice, but we had a few minutes to stop at a quiet sandy beach. We let the cool waves take us to shore. When we got there, we found a little sailboat stuck partially under the sand. We carried the pieces to shore. It was sad to see the broken abandoned boat. It felt like we were seeing a lost dream. The wind must have taken it from its home.

No matter where the winds of life end up taking us, I am happy to be with a great man.

And for that brief moment in time, we were able to walk hand in hand on the beach.

19th anniversary sail

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Seconds tick into minutes. The gears of time grind onward clicking minutes into hours. Hours turn into days, then months, then years, then decades. Before I knew it, I spent half my life with the same person. Sometimes I want to stop the sand from flowing through the hourglass so fast, suspend time for awhile. I wish our days were as numerous as sand on the beach then I won’t have to grasp time so greedily before it slips away.

Paul and I left Friday morning to sail to our destination, a beautiful resort in Door County for our 19th anniversary. The winds were against us. But we didn’t have time to go any other days, we had to force it. Last minute I decided to pack my rain coat, even though we weren’t expecting rain. I took the above picture as we were leaving. A few minutes later, I exchanged my shorts for pants and put on my rain coat. We were sailing against the wind and 3 to 6 foot waves were smashing into the bow soaking me. We had to motor for 2 hours under these conditions. I barely kept down my breakfast. I guess that is what happens when nature conflicts with your schedule.
 

After several hours of fighting the waves, we finally were able to sail through smoother waters. We did sail awhile for fun, but it didn’t get us towards our destination. It is ironic how something seemingly small, like the wind or a slight change in direction, can set the whole trajectory off course. Marriage is a lot like that at times too. The funny thing is that we don’t really notice the little changes at the time. Only when we look back with a great amount of reflection can we try to chart where we went off course. 

 

We arrived safely at our destination and were very warmly greeted by the other sailors. We were even offered the use of a car if an emergency arose at home which I came close to taking them up on. Lol. I AM the worried mother of three teenagers after all! We toured a larger sailboat and were offered a sail the following morning. We politely declined to explore a new beach. 

The next morning we motored 45 minutes to a small beach that was remote to get to from land but rather crowded by water. We were planning on blowing up our dingy and having a picnic on shore followed by a swim. The spot where we anchored was rather weedy. Then we noticed that the beach was full and the water was empty. So we decided to ditch the whole dingy idea and head back to the resort pool. We were talking about the beach we explored with someone and how the people didn’t seem to care for the water. We were told that the water was 61 degrees! Bbbrrrrr!! I’m glad we decided to eat our lunch aboard and head back to the resort pool. I even went into the hot tub and sauna for awhile. 

That is summer in Wisconsin. 

To be continued…. 

Drowning, my fears – 911, poison control, and other parenting mishaps

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I, myself, have never been afraid of drowning. Maybe I would’ve been if my brother drowned that warm spring day.

It is a topic of conversation that never goes away. Why did my mom let my dad talk her into leaving the 6 year old me in charge of watching my 3 younger brothers alone in the water? Was I always the protector or did I become that way? 

A few weeks ago, my brother told me that he has nightmares of me watching him drown. How can he remember? He just turned two. I remember everything that happened that day. I stood on the dock paralyzed with fear watching my brother gulping water and gasping for air. As he flailed his arms, my 3 year old brother exclaimed excitedly over and over that he was swimming. My autistic 5 year old brother stood in the shallow water flapping his hands oblivious to the surrounding peril. 

I knew something was wrong, but I couldn’t scream. I couldn’t seem to move. My mom came back to check on us and saved my brother. I knew that I failed because I couldn’t protect him.

I never was afraid of drowning. I was afraid of watching others drown.

Fast forward another 6 years to when I was 12. I watched my baby cousin in their swimming pool while her mom was at work. She was sitting in the water on a pool chair. She fell off the chair backwards into the water. I grabbed her leg and pulled her out. I was so happy that I didn’t panic and let her drown. But everyone else seemed so angry. My uncle got scolded from his wife for letting me watch my cousin in the pool. No one seems to remember that I protected her, that I didn’t let her drown.

Fast forward another decade after I had children of my own. We were told as new parents to never leave your baby unattended even for a few seconds in the bathtub. If the phone is ringing in the other room, let it ring. I suppose this is not a problem anymore for the new generation of parents.

Then my kids got older to the age where I didn’t need to sit and watch them bathe. I could go in every few minutes and check on them. One day I checked on Arabella in the bathtub after there was an unusual period of silence. I opened the tub door to find her floating in the water fast asleep. For a brief minute, as I gazed at her motionless body, I was terrified that she drowned. It was the most horrible anxiety ever. I thought that I failed to protect her.

After that happened, I worried that my children would drown. I never liked my kids taking showers when I was gone or asleep. I mean, they could slip on a bar of soap, hit their head, and drown. I don’t let them go swimming alone. I feel the need to keep an eye on them when they are swimming in water.

Even having my 3 kids swim together at the beach in front of me in shallow water wasn’t enough. I looked away for a minute and then there were 2 kids. My youngest wandered off from her siblings and couldn’t be found. It was a large beach with a lot of people. In just a few seconds they got distracted and separated. I ran up and down the beach combing the water until she was found safe. Another terrifying moment. 

So I worry. Worry makes me feel like I have some control, that I will be prepared for the worst that could happen. I worry about the things I can’t control. I feel like I am responsible for everything that happens. I am the protector. Sometimes I even try to control when I need to let go. It leaves me a nervous wreck. 

Within this last month, my daughter became an adult. My son turned 16 and got his driver’s license. Sometimes I can’t even tell anymore if my worries are rational or irrational. I don’t know anymore. 

People that don’t worry tell me not to worry, to worry about things I can control, and that I need to trust God more. Believe me, I wish I was a carefree person. I have an extreme fear of failing to be a protector. When something goes wrong, I blame myself.

I want to relax. I want to let go. 

But sometimes the worry drowns me.

Running with razor blades – 911, poison control, and other parenting mishaps

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A long time ago, back when both of my grandparents were still alive, Paul and I took our little girl Angel out for a visit. My grandparents lived in a house where all of the main rooms downstairs were connected in a circular pattern. Think indoor running track. Well, that is exactly what my kids used it for anyway. It wasn’t bothersome, they wore off some extra energy, and you always knew their whereabouts.

On that day, Angel ran quite a few laps. After awhile we tuned out the constant tread of her little feet. That is until we heard the noise that no parent ever wants to hear…

Absolute silence.

I went to check on her.

What I saw next made me shriek in terror. I sqawked louder than a mother bird protecting her nest from predators.

Angel was holding a handful of straight edge razor blades. Her bloody little fingers were bringing them towards her mouth in slow motion. I screamed! She dropped her find and cried in response to my fear. I freaked out as Paul calmly inspected her bloody hands.

My grandma felt horrible. My grandparents kept everything. Although their house did not reflect hoarding or clutter, they kept many useless objects. They tucked those objects into hidden nooks and crannies like they were treasure. The razor blades from another era were hidden in the back of a bottom lower cupboard. In those brief seconds of silence, Angel found them and attempted to eat them.

Thankfully, she didn’t get seriously hurt. She didn’t need stitches. She just had a few cuts on her hands. Sometimes I shudder to think about what could have happened if I didn’t get there when I did.

It was on that day that I learned a lesson as a relatively new parent.

I learned that sometimes my kids are going to do things that hurt them. As a parent, it is very difficult to watch. If they would only listen to me, then maybe they could save themselves the pain of learning things the hard way.

Unfortunately that is not the way life works.

Sometimes I wonder if that is how God feels about us.

 

Broken snow globes – 911, poison control, and other parenting mishaps

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Back when Angel was a very little girl, perhaps before her siblings were born, I started a snow globe collection for her. Beautiful dancers and assorted wildlife swirled in the glistening snow. I put her collection safe up high on a ledge that she, for sure, couldn’t reach. She could gaze at them during nap time.

Ah, nap time. Well, what was supposed to be nap time.

When I entered her room that afternoon, there was a carnage of broken creatures that escaped their forever winter out of shattered glass. All of the snow globes were broken and Angel had glitter coming out of her mouth.

I called poison control that day.

What do you suspect is in snow globe water? Not drinking water, I’m sure.

Is eating globs of globe glitter harmful?

God forbid, did she swallow any of the glass??

Somehow she managed to survive until adulthood.

I learned a valuable lesson that day. Even if I had the snow globes suspended from the ceiling, they wouldn’t be high enough to keep out of the hands of a curious toddler.

Not long after that, I put the number for poison control on speed dial.

 

Wanted, a few good friends…

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Do you ever wish there was an online ‘dating’ site to find friends?  
My wanted ad would go something like this: Looking for a married woman in her upper 30’s to lower 40’s with at least two fairly well behaved children. Must be athletic and adventurous. Must like long walks on the beach. Must not have a fear of water. Must be a thinker who likes deep conversation/debate yet not too serious. Must have a sense of humor. Please no one that drinks, brags, or talks too much. Must be honest with a good personality and morals. Must be a runner, send picture of running shoes or medals.

That is what my ad would be like.

I have been having some problems finding a few good friends. The fish that have been in the sea lately have been rather disappointing.

Yesterday I went out with my friends for my birthday, or should I say that I went out with my friend and her husband. I invited 4 couples. 

The first couple I am not even sure why I am friends with. We have been friends for a decade now. I keep them at arms length. I might even want to break things off. A few weeks ago, someone I know asked me why I was friends with her. She has a tendency to get drunk, be verbally abusive towards her husband, and cheat. I wouldn’t want my husband to hang out with a guy version of her. I had a hard time answering why we were friends. Honestly, I don’t even like her that much. She has gotten in trouble with friends for hitting on their husbands. Believe it or not, she does have a few redeeming qualities. She is fine when she is sober, which isn’t very often. Maybe we should break up?

The second couple I asked were friends for over ten years as well. At one time, I thought we were best friends. We even planned to go on vacation together a couple years ago. I think that is the point where our friendship started falling apart. They asked us on vacation, then ended up canceling out before we really started planning. They decided to remodel their house instead and could no longer afford to go. After that I think they felt ackward around us. Then her mom got cancer. With her mom, four kids, and work she didn’t have any extra time. 

They were on vacation over my daughter’s grad party. They were flying back the day of and said they might stop by which they never did. While they were on vacation, they received a call at 5 AM. The message stated that there was a family emergency and to call the hospital upon receipt. (I can worry about that now because stuff like that really happens). Her mom had a massive heart attack. She keeps saying that we will get together sometime, but sometime never seems to come. Our friendship is falling apart. 

Then there is Lisa. I planned on running a 5k to celebrate my birthday, followed by sailing to the beach, and an evening of dancing at a local festival. 

Lisa stayed out drinking all night the evening before. When she got to my house in the morning, she said that she didn’t sleep and was probably still drunk. At bar time they were so drunk that they ended up walking back to her house. Everyone walked except for her friend and another friend’s boyfriend. It took them a half an hour to walk to her house and another hour after that for the two friends in the van to arrive. The driver claimed that he got lost. Meanwhile the passenger was unconscious in the back seat. It took them 40 minutes to wake her up. It wasn’t the first time she drank that much. Then the girlfriend accused her boyfriend (in the van with another woman) of cheating which ended in a breakup. Honestly, that is not the kind of excitement I want in my life! 

Lisa ended up running the race with me, then cancelled out of the rest of my birthday celebration. I am so disappointed. Maybe I should ax all of these people out of my life for good. Just stop responding to their invitations. Even if we have been friends forever doesn’t mean we always have to be.

The last couple was Cindy and Ted. Cindy is not a runner, but after the race they made us a huge breakfast. Then they spent the afternoon with Paul and I sailing to the beach. We had a great time swimming, sailing, and chatting. They said that they would do whatever I wanted for my birthday. We never did make it out to the festival. The weather was hot and stormy. To be frank, I was tired anyway. They are great friends, the kind that are hard to come by.

It is harder to find friends when you are a couple. The guys have to hit it off along with the girls. It doesn’t work if I end up getting along with the husband better than the wife. Or if I like the wife, but the husbands don’t mesh. Or if I like the wife, but dislike the guy she is with. There are so many dynamics.  

I tried to brush off my disappointment with Lisa. I considered her to be a best friend. Now she is nothing more than an acquaintance to me. Cindy moved up and took her place. 

Do you rank your friends like I do? 

We have tried to make friends with other couples. 

We invited another couple to supper but they cancelled out when the food was on the table because they ended up getting a better invitation. You’re out!

Or the people that we invited over that never reciprocated. One sided friendships suck. You’re out!!

Or the other couple we thought could be friends that kept cancelling out last minute. We rescheduled multiple times to have them cancel over and over again for no good reason. You’re out!

None of those friendships ended up going anywhere. 

It is really hard to find good friends. 

But how do you find new ones that are of high quality? 

Maybe I should take out a wanted ad.

Wanted, a few good friends….