This one is for you, Jen!

I sent J something in the mail every day when he was a Boot Camp. Sometimes, when news was slow, he got interesting articles or cartoons from 'The New Yorker.' This one was among my favorites. I knew it would come in handy someday...:-)

My sister has been asking me to get her this recipe for some time, and I am a complete slacker. Since it is an old family recipe, she suggested that I post it for all you distant family members who might want/need it (and for anyone else out there who has ever thought "my life would be far more complete with an amazing cobbler recipe...")

I give you 'Pioneer Peach Cobbler' (my ultimate comfort dessert). Mom got it from my great -aunt Juventa (one of those poor kids named after the boat her parents immigrated on, I think - Mak? verify?) Anyway, for those family members who might be familiar with this recipe and are purists, I will warn you that I have made some tactical changes. Sorry, aunt venta. My way is just easier...This recipe is really amazing with fresh peaches, although it is also a good way to use up those peaches that you can every year and that your children won't eat (sound familiar?) Here goes:

Pioneer Peach Cobbler

2 c. Bisquick (you know, like the pioneers had...)

6 Tbs. butter or margarine

6 peeled and sliced peaches (or one jar) or apples, or pretty much any kind of fruit you want to use actually.

Cut the butter into the bisquick until you get crumbs "the size of small peas" Add water to dough by the teaspoonful until it is a consistency to roll out.

Mix:

3/4 c. Sugar

1 Tbs. Cinnamon

1/4 tsp. allspice

"whisper of cloves"

"dash of nutmeg" (no, I am not channeling Mrs. Claus. These were her actual instructions. Interpret as you will :-)

(Technically, this is the part where you are supposed to roll out the dough mixture, spread butter and the spices on it, add the peaches and roll it up and slice, but I guarantee doing it this way will make you cuss.) Instead, spread the fruit evenly over the bottom of a glass pan and drop the dough mixture in balls evenly throughout (this makes it much easier for little hands to help. My boys love this part). Sprinkle the spice mixture over the top when finished.

Combine:

4 c. water

1/4 c. flour

1/4 tsp. lemon extract (crucial! This is the best part of the whole flavor.)

Shake well in covered jar and pour entire contents over the dough and fruit (it will look wet and wierd, but trust me...)

Dot four Tbs. of butter evenly throughout the pan and bake (uncovered) at 350 degrees for 45 minutes to an hour (dough should rise to the top and look 'dry' when done). Eat with ice cream/whipped cream (or straight from the pan with a fork like I do...)

The Small Things

It was such a small thing. So small, in fact, that it would hardly be worth mentioning except the occurrence of it re-opened a wound that I sincerely hoped was starting to close. He brought the boys home from his day with them and I invited him to come inside and see the baby for a minute (he missed his day with her earlier in the week since he was sick and didn't want to infect her). I had a car seat in each hand and he walked up behind me and took one from me to lighten my load. I have spent 3 months now doing all of this kind of stuff alone. Packing and unpacking children from the car, bedtime routines, cleaning the house, getting kids ready for and wrestling them through church, etc. I thought that I was getting used to it and beyond the occasional wish that I had someone in-house to pick up some of the 'kid slack' from time to time (and to be honest, getting a little angry when I think about him spending his evenings watching TV and doing whatever he wants). But that one almost insignificant gesture of help hit me like a slap in the face for some reason. It was so familiar and was a random, vivid reminder of everything I have lost. Not just someone to take half the physical work (although ask me how much I am looking forward to packing up and moving this household all by himself. All of a sudden, him "leaving me everything, including the house" doesn't feel so generous, especially as I am learning how much of a pain it will be to sell by owner and we don't have enough equity to allow me to walk away with anything extra...) I miss being a team. I miss having someone help take part of the emotional burden of this life we built. Worrying about money and the future and how our children are all doing feels twice as heavy when there is no one as invested as you to talk it all out. It never ceases to amaze me how much of a wrench some of those small things can be.

I am often told to take this process one day and one step at a time and while I know it is good advice it comes with some caveats. It's true that it doesn't do to try to worry too much about the future, especially when you are walking into the mist. The problem with taking things day to day however, is that it allows you to think somewhere in your head that this pain won't last forever and that you can be comfortable again (which is still technically true). Except, the only place I can imagine feeling fulfilled and safe again is in the only place I ever really did. In my marriage with my best friend. Then I remember how he has decided to feel about me. Maybe this makes me terribly unobservant or a bad judge of character because you could assume that I don't know what safe is since I have been badly treated for so long. Maybe you're right. Maybe there is more out there for me and my babies that I can't even fathom right now. But to be honest, on a day like today, I don't care. I miss my marriage. I miss my husband. I miss my life. I miss having someone to cook for (who eats something beyond chicken nuggets and mac and cheese). I actually miss taking care of him. It was one of my great joys and I thought I did it pretty well. A few months ago, days before he left, he ruefully pointed out that he "did the little things right and the big things wrong." How true. I never felt like I had much to complain about as a wife and I often told him that I felt lucky that he was so good to me. I do know that I felt cared for on many levels, even if they weren't always the right ones. I felt like I always had a friend who had my back and always would. I never left for the evening and came home to a messy house. You might call it a guilty conscience, but I know it was because he knew how much I appreciated clean surroundings. He did it for me. Every year he brought me piles of lilacs on my birthday (except this last one, when apparently walking into the back yard for them was too much effort.) He was the kind of guy who would jump up to help anyone he saw needing something (you want him to be driving by when you need your car pushed off the road). He loved his children and played until they wore him out. It wasn't until the last five or six months before Sis was born that I ever saw him lose patience with them faster than I did. I just assumed he was stressed out with work. I had always thought he was the better parent, and to be honest, it scares me a little to know that I am. I guess these are some of the reasons why I wake up every morning still so...shocked. I still can't quite believe the choice he has made. I feel about our marriage much the way I imagine a person with a terminal disease feels. I have taken steps to try to move forward, but the biggest message my heart is sending my brain (they don't communicate well at all, by the way) is that "this can't be it. This just can't be the end..." no matter how reasonable I try to be.

No matter how I try to prepare myself for the blows I know are coming, they all still knock me over. I am watching him continue to make bad decisions and put down roots elsewhere and the fact that I am still shocked by his choices make every blow that much harder. He has broken our family and my heart and our children's hearts and unfortunately, I don't believe he is done breaking things yet. I don't believe he will be until he has nothing of value left and has nowhere to go but up. Most of the time, it feels like my road to recovery is so long (even if he came back tomorrow) and his has the potential to be much shorter. A few steps in the right direction would help heal his own heart far more than he even knows. Every day, I look around and wonder how I ended up here and when I get to finally have a choice in my life's direction (beyond attitude).

I have learned that PTSD and betrayal trauma is just that...trauma. It is not something that goes away quickly and you can't be talked out of it. In fact, when compared to other types of trauma (i.e. assault, witnessing a murder, terrorist attacks, etc.) it has been proven to be the worst, most far reaching kind. On a good day, I can look at this and think "If I can make it through this, then nothing can knock me down" but on a bad day, all I hear from that is that it would have been better for my psyche to have had my actual life be at risk. All summer long, I begged J to put some faith in the process of therapy, of repentance and backed myself up with statistic after statistic about how couples who work through infidelity end up stronger or why his statements sound like every other person in his situation (i.e. "I love you but I am not in love with you..." or "I never loved you in the first place..."). Everyone has the same excuses because the process of justification has the same steps for everyone, even though everyone feels they are unique. Those who take the right steps to fix the original problem tend to realize just how lame those excuses are. He couldn't imagine feeling any differently so he refused to try. He felt like his case was unique (as they all do).

Now that I am reading every abandonment/infidelity book I can getting my hands on, I am humbly finding that my grieving process is also not unique. No matter how much I think "you don't know how I feel, or what I felt we had" to those who are assuring me that time will help and heal, my journey has recognizable stumbling blocks and steps as well. Unfortunately there have been studies done on the millions of us who also go through this end of things. Just like I was begging J to consider, taking the right steps and following the right process can lead me back to the light too, in a different way. Or so I'm told. I am kind of shocked every time I open a new chapter and they tell me exactly how I am feeling and why and what I need to do about it when I thought I made that particular thought up. Although I feel like I could put the amount of actual progress I have made into a thimble right now, I am going to take my own advice. Put some faith in the system and accept that it may take time, but statistically it has worked for millions who have come out the other side stronger. I get now how much easier that is to say than to do though.

Six months ago today, I got my first "I don't love you" from him. It still hurts to think about as much as it hurt then to hear it. For today, I have put the self help books away and even my kids were not enough to fully get me out of bed. They got taken to school and fed and dressed, but I have to admit that I spent much of the day in bed grieving my past, my future and my present (I did have the boys join me with snacks and turned on cartoons, so I could feel less like a horrible, neglectful parent.) I took it easy and tried to let myself accept for now that I am not over this. I am not over him, unfortunately. If only there were a button I could push. I wish with all my heart I could say that I was further along in how I feel about this. Right now, it feels like one step forward, a hundred steps back. It's like getting pushed into a deep, dark hole. You can see the light. You know the world you left is still up there somewhere. You pick yourself up and dust yourself off after the inital shock of hitting bottom, but find that the sides keep giving way as you climb, landing you back where you started with a few new bruises. To top it off, I have scared, hurt children to get out of the hole as well. Sometimes you just need a breather. I'll pick myself back up tomorrow and see what it brings, but for today I am not strong or brave or level headed. I'm breathing because that is my only option and I'm just sad about all the small and big things that I really, really miss. I am tired of being an emotional drain on everyone who worries about me. I'm tired of having to process people's anger toward him because I can't help but still be protective in many ways (twisted, I know...) I would give anything to go back under the radar and just be a mom and a wife and raise my kids with thier father and have a "boring, predictable life." But I don't get that choice.

Are you all inspired! :-) This process is a lot of "good, bad and ugly" Today was a lot of ugly. Six months from today, when I am at the year mark, I sincerely hope to have a happier post.

Laughed Out Loud!

Anyone out there read the blog "Seriously, So Blessed!" I believe it originally started as a joke by someone who wanted to poke some casual fun at the quirkier aspects of the mormon culture (oh, get over it...it's for fun!) and the blog kind of took off (can anyone verify that?)

Anyway, I hadn't checked in for awhile and happened to today and found this:

Single Mom

I had a much needed laugh out loud moment (even though I know and am dreading the day to come when someone actually makes this comparison to me. I hope I don't still feel like hitting things then.)

Enjoy! I did...

The Moment

A year ago today (almost to the hour, come to think of it) we were finishing up our final day on our annual Disneyland trip and taking this picture to commemorate it. Disneyland is something we have managed to do once a year since Junior was one (and once together, pre-kids, before J headed off to Boot Camp and AIT). It was always a trip we looked forward to and had plans to continue the tradition every year we could. We loved watching our kids light up there and looked forward to the day we would bring a little girl dressed in her favorite Princess dress and watch her light up too. We always felt like it was our "family place" and talked often about future memories we would make there.

Last year, we decided to take off at the end of our last day and get as far as Vegas instead of staying the night and battling the morning traffic. After a quick, final stop at Boston Market (almost an equal reason for heading to D-land every year...) we put already sleeping boys in the truck and headed out with the caveat that we would stop earlier if we got to tired. It was a surprisingly pleasant drive that took under four hours as compared to the eight it took us to go the same stretch coming out. After days of kid wrangling, visiting with family and general noise and crowds, it was nice to finally just sit and talk in the quiet dark. I always loved riding any long distance with J when the kids had finally zonked out. We just talked. We solved many of the world's mysteries (ghosts, existence of bigfoot etc.) as well as fixed the welfare and political system on many of our drives. Sometimes over and over. Talking non-stop is how we got our start as friends way back in high school and I always felt like long car drives were a way to get that aspect of us back without the distractions of kids, home, jobs etc. The drive flew by for me. I was ready to get home, but content.

"We'll do it this way every year" we decided as we pulled into Whiskey Petes around midnight and towed groggy boys upstairs. If I had a crystal ball then that would show a year into the future, I probably would have scoffed at the vision of me sitting in my house, broken hearted and alone, waiting for J to bring our boys back from his custody day with them. I had no clue that it would be the last Disneyland trip we would take. Looking back, it was fun, but not our best trip owing to the nasty flu that went through the whole family at some point during our four days. It was only on our final day that we were all healthy. I assumed that there was always next year. Did I treasure that vacation enough? It never occurred to me that it would be the last and that I would be in these shoes merely a year later. Our family has gained a member and lost one and I find myself wishing I had cherished the moment more for what it was. I wish I had looked around me a little more and shown some gratitude that right then, my family was whole and healthy and together. A short year later, I only have one out of the three and the knowledge that I took precious time for granted.

Recognizing just how fast my life can change completely, I am going to make a better effort to be in the moment in my surroundings and be grateful for what they are even in the glaring face of what they are not. I have bright, beautiful children. They are all healthy and loving and kind to each other and to me. This age in each of their lives needs to be treasured, not wished away because I feel bad at the moment. I have a husband who, although he has chosen to leave our family unit is in his way, trying to be as kind as he can about the situation he has forced on us. I know it could be worse. My home is peaceful and the kids and I have bonded in our sadness in a whole new way. I have developed friendships and relationships and insight through my struggles that I don't know if I could have obtained any other way. I have every reason to know that life can change, for better or for worse, in the blink of an eye. This gives me reason to want to embrace the good in the now and hope that by this time next year I have more reasons to rejoice than I could ever list here.

I think back on the times within the last year that I felt my life was a little too mundane and predictable. Now, I would give anything to have the essence of that life back. I would give anything to feel like my days were mundane and my future predictable. I sometimes wish we could all just vacation in our old life for awhile and recoup our strength to keep on keeping on.

Look around you. Be grateful for the moment and find the good in it. If the noise from your kids is on your last nerve, consider how that same noise would be music to your ears if you had a sick little one lying quietly in a hospital bed. If hubby forgot to take the garbage out again and you are irritated, consider how reassuring it is to crawl into bed next to someone every night. How nice it is to be someone's someone. If you wish wifey would come running to greet you at the door instead of calling out hello as she stands in the kitchen stressing over dinner, keep in mind that you likely have a fierce mama bear at your back, who would do anything for you when it came down to it. Should something happen to derail your life, the only thing you will really wonder is if you appreciated things enough when you had them. If you have to, use the times when you think about what you don't have to remind you of the things you do. Don't wish anything away. You may not realize how precious something is until much later. Enjoy each moment you are given with those you love.

You just never know when your life will change.

Movin On...

I bundled the kids up this morning and packed them in the car to take Junior to school and noticed that the tree across the street was filled with raucous harbingers of winter. Big, dark, ugly Ravens sat brooding in the tree and I also noticed them all over the back field when I got home. Ravens are not beautiful. They are carrion birds, which means that they feed on things that are sick or dying, and have been known by many cultures throughout history to be a harbinger of bad luck or a bad journey. I'm not usually superstitious, but considering they have been surrounding my home every winter for many years, I am a total believer now.

This home, which we bought joyfully and lovingly called our "starter home" (a precursor to our "forever home"), is where we brought home two brand new babies and watched our boys grow and generally continued to build up what I felt was a solid foundation for our future. We have seen success here, and definitely some challenges but despite that, I loved this house. I said so frequently and thought my heart would break to leave the place where we had lived the longest stretch of time in our marriage and where our children were babies. I thought someday we would look back and have fond memories of our first house. Now it has become a tomb for me. So much has died here and sometimes I feel like the walls are closing in around me. As soon as I possibly can, I want to be in new surroundings and under a new roof that I don't have to wonder how often "she" has been under as well (the car is the next thing to get traded in though. I know for a fact that "she" has been in my car.)

I will be leaving an amazing neighborhood, a ward who has welcomed and then watched protectively over us, my best friend and my best distraction and a loving sister who has been there tirelessly for me this summer. But it is time to go.

There are too many memories and too many reminders and too many ill omened Ravens surrounding this house now. I miss the robins, chickadees and blue jays of summer. So I am going somewhere else where carrion birds do not surround my home anymore. The sight of Ravens will now forever make me ill.

Personally, I can't think of one good use for them.

And here I thought my days of finding random love notes around the house were over...

Junior has always been a basically thoughtful, sweet boy, but since learning to write and sound out words phonetically on his own, there have been no stopping the love notes I get around here. I can't get enough of them. Junior has become less demonstrative or vocal in the last year or so, and I really treasure each little love note (and gift) he leaves for me to find. These are just a few...

He made these bracelets out of pipe cleaners for me and was kind of bugged that I don't own a jewelry box to put them into. I told him I would wear them to church on Sunday.

Non-phonetically spelled, this note is a bit of a backhanded compliment. It says "I love you how madder you are" i.e. I love you even when you are mad. We have had to have a lot of talks about how I still love them the same even when I have to get mad at them for something. There have been a lot of breakdowns and "why are you being so mean, mom's" lately at the slightest amount of discipline. I don't think my poor boys are quite sure of either of their parents right now. But it is nice to know he loves me back even when I am mad at him :-) you would never know it by the things he actually says on those occasions!

Unfortunately, he has also learned to wield his pen for bad as well as is evidenced by this note I caught him trying to tape to Bubba's back the other morning after they got into a fight. It says "Loser, I don't like you."

Maybe what Bubba can't read won't hurt him? And I don't think you are ever too young to learn the fine art of writing censorship, Junior...

Open Those Forwards...

I generally am not a huge fan of email forwards, but I usually read them anyway since every once in awhile you find a real gem. A very good friend sent me this one today and reading it made me cry (not like it is hard these days, but still... :-) Instead of forwarding it on to all my acquaintances who are also leery of forwards, I am posting it here for the edification of you all. Maybe it will hit you the way it hit me and maybe it won't, but it improved my perspective on a day that was not shaping up to be that great. I am coming off of a really lonely, quiet weekend, have a messy house, I need to go to the store and the post office, I have articles to be done, a Christmas dessert to make for a church function, three sick children plus sick me and a trip to take them all to the Pediatrician tonight all on top of the usual routine of putting one foot in front of the other and just breathing and not crying in front of the kids :-) I was seriously considering getting back into bed and not coming out until after the holidays. Then this arrived. If anyone has perspective on life, it would be a 90 year old. I particularly teared up at #15, #31 and #38 (don't quite agree with #12). Thanks Amanda, you made my day!

Written By Regina Brett, 90 years old, of The Plain Dealer, Cleveland, Ohio

"To celebrate growing older, I once wrote the 45 lessons life taught me. It is the most-requested column I've ever written.

My odometer rolled over to 90 in August, so here is the column once more:

1. Life isn't fair, but it's still good.

2. When in doubt, just take the next small step.

3. Life is too short to waste time hating anyone.

4. Your job won't take care of you when you are sick. Your friends and parents will. Stay in touch.

5. Pay off your credit cards every month.

6. You don't have to win every argument. Agree to disagree.

7. Cry with someone. It's more healing than crying alone.

8. It's OK to get angry with God. He can take it.

9. Save for retirement starting with your first paycheck.

10. When it comes to chocolate, resistance is futile.

11. Make peace with your past so it won't screw up the present.

12. It's OK to let your children see you cry.

13. Don't compare your life to others. You have no idea what their journey is all about.

14. If a relationship has to be a secret, you shouldn't be in it.

15. Everything can change in the blink of an eye. But don't worry; God never blinks.

16.. Take a deep breath. It calms the mind.

17. Get rid of anything that isn't useful, beautiful or joyful.

18. Whatever doesn't kill you really does make you stronger.

19. It's never too late to have a happy childhood. But the second one is up to you and no one else

20. When it comes to going after what you love in life, don't take no for an answer.

21. Burn the candles, use the nice sheets, wear the fancy lingerie. Don't save it for a special occasion. Today is special.

22. Over prepare, then go with the flow.

23. Be eccentric now. Don't wait for old age to wear purple.

24. The most important sex organ is the brain.

25. No one is in charge of your happiness but you.

26. Frame every so-called disaster with these words 'In five years, will this matter?'

27. Always choose life.

28. Forgive everyone everything.

29. What other people think of you is none of your business.

30. Time heals almost everything. Give time time.

31. However good or bad a situation is, it will change.

32. Don't take yourself so seriously. No one else does.

33. Believe in miracles.

34. God loves you because of who God is, not because of anything you did or didn't do.

35. Don't audit life. Show up and make the most of it now.

36. Growing old beats the alternative -- dying young.

37. Your children get only one childhood.

38. All that truly matters in the end is that you loved.

39. Get outside every day. Miracles are waiting everywhere

40. If we all threw our problems in a pile and saw everyone else's, we'd grab ours back.

41. Envy is a waste of time. You already have all you need.

42. The best is yet to come...

43. No matter how you feel, get up, dress up and show up.

44. Yield.

45. Life isn't tied with a bow, but it's still a gift."