I want to believe my kids will never drink. That when they’re teens, they’ll never dabble with chasing a buzz or ever drinking under-age at all. I want to believe that they won’t cave to peer pressure. I wish that they were somehow exempt from that particular inevitable adolescent temptation. As a recovering alcoholic, of course I’m scared for them. And maybe I wish my sobriety would erase any potential addictions that might lie in wait for them. Of course that’s not how it works, so we’ll always talk about it, as we have now, in a way that they can understand for their age. But the reality is that no matter what a parent does, the issue will arise. Or the glasses will be lifted, so to speak, all around my impressionable offspring. Cheers to high school rebellion! As much as I’d like to believe my kids are going to take the […]
I’m whelmed over. On a whim I had the idea for Just Write and I quickly typed up a post inviting people to join me in free writing their moments and then WOW, did you ever show up, friends. I thank you so muchly. Let’s keep doing this, huh? I mean, your posts? They’re fantastic, and even if it’s going to take me all week to get through them, I’m going to read them all. There are some truly gifted writers out there! And together we’re discovering that if we get ourselves out of the way (thinking too much about what or how to say things), our words find freedom. THEN, it gets even better because as we write the memories of moments in our lives, the true beauty of every kind of moment shows up. I just love it. If you missed it this week, come back next week and join us. […]
We are driving along, just the two of us. I channel surf for tunes as Elsie Jane kicks and coos from her backwards position behind me. Girls Just Wanna Have Fun is where I land and I sing it at the top of my lungs, windows down. Somehow she loves it when I sing. The working day is never done, but girls, they wanna have fuhunn. I pass by a house with much recycling out front. Cans and cans and bottles and bottles and cardboard boxes. All from alcohol. I think about how that used to be my end of the driveway and how it didn’t take long to add up and so I’d try to hide parts of it under cola types of things. I think about how, with the boys, I had to pump and dump a lot and worry because it is very simple: I was drinking too much. Maybe […]
Today I read an article in the October issue of Redbook magazine and was brought back to the beginning of my sobriety journey. Well, wait. Actually, I was brought back to my drinking days, too. The article is about drinking mothers and features myself and my friends Ellie and Corinne. I dont’ know if people who read that article will google The Extraordinary Ordinary and land here, but if so, I wanted to share something for them. So today I’m re-posting something from not long after I stopped drinking. I hope it speaks grace to anyone who comes along. :::: I am on a flight where you choose your own seat and this is new to me. At the same time that this empowers me, it also makes me feel like the unpopular kid in the lunch room, searching frantically for one of the last spaces and a welcoming face. Much like the […]
It was a red scooter sort of thing. A motorized two-wheeled zippy little thing. They were called Sprees and they were all the rage. Especially if they were red. We were standing in front of the high school and for some reason he told me I could drive it. I think I’d driven one before, but by myself. This time, my friend Angie hopped on the back and all I remember is that it was harder to steer. But the high school had a circular drive and the first thing I had to do was round a sharp corner. It didn’t take but seconds and we were down, turned sideways and under the scooter in the drive’s edge, little pebbles bouncing away. She said, Why didn’t you stop? She was in so much pain and she was angry and shocked. I had no idea how to answer her. For some reason, when I […]
My Dad asked about postpartum depression yesterday. He asked when it usually sets in. I couldn’t clear my head to answer the question because I don’t sleep enough to have normal conversations. I don’t know exactly what I said, but what I meant was something like, “as soon as the baby comes out…or anytime after that. Or even while you’re still pregnant.” I don’t know if it’s happening to me. Again. Maybe it is. It’s hard to tell without sleeping much at all. What I do know is that this is hard and that I cry a lot. As much as I don’t want to cry, as much as I just want to constantly feel joy, that’s not my reality. Sometimes I cry because I sing to Elsie when she’s crying and I just can’t hold it back. I’m a horrible singer and I really really mean the words… There you go with […]
Lately, every day starts very early in the backyard. I sit on a yellow patio chair and I read and then a little later, I write. I sip coffee (yes, I have one cup of coffee while pregnant) and later Ryan joins me with the newspaper and I’m not even kidding you, there is a hummingbird right over there just now; a few feet from me, no lie. It is sticking its nectar syringe in tiny pink flowers with tiny wings batting in front of a red throat. I’m trying not to move. Maybe if I sit still long enough this beautiful moment won’t pass. Oh. There it went. Bye Bye Birdie. I think the same thing about my motherhood life right now–maybe if I sit still long enough, this moment of it will stay just as it is because it’s so good. Of course, that would mean staying pregnant forever and I’m not up […]
I’m shocked that he remembers… Can we go in there, Mommy? Where? I want a sucker. Where do you get a sucker, I don’t understand? He’s pointing across the parking lot, to a strip mall. I look up to see the liquor store and my heart sinks to my feet. No, honey…we can’t go in there. Why? Because that’s a liquor store and I don’t drink alcohol anymore. Then he blows me away. Mommy, if you saw the wine in there, it would make you want to drink it? Yes. That’s true. It would. After that, maybe it was a rising up of things buried, of things I thought I had forgotten, heavy feelings of regret, I don’t know. But I could not stop crying. I drove and cried and remembered and even though it hurt, it’s good to remember so we don’t have to go back. They were so vivid, the memories of […]
It was pretty ironic that on a day when I really needed a mental health break, I got an email saying that The Extraordinary Ordinary has been nominated on Circle of Moms for the Top 25 Mental Wellness Blogs Written By Moms. I’ll admit, I chuckled. I said something to myself about my own current mental health and I chuckled. Don’t get me wrong, it’s truly an honor to be nominated…I’m just being honest. I mean, after all, I did leave Ellie a message yesterday that said that I was sitting on the couch eating marshmallows and had absolutely no desire to move. Then I asked her voicemail, Is that so bad? I was simply practicing self-care, of course. Having a rest. And some sugar. My boys and I have had a solo week and I’m really pregnant, what can I say? (I am always thinking of single parents when Ryan is gone […]
Dear Friends, I wrote an article for a site called Everything Mom (a great place for all things motherhood-soul stories, resources, menu planning, free printables and much more.) Here is how the article starts… I was a drinking mother. Today I’m a sober mother…. You can read the rest over at Everything Mom, if you’d like. Thank you. I hope your day is GOOD.
It’s been so long since we could open the windows and leave them that way. It’s been so long with no clear sounds from outside. No birds. No breeze. This stagnant air is suffocating. This Minnesota winter is long and relentless. I want new air in my home, tinged with warmth…oh, how I want it. I want it so much it hurts. I want to go outside without a coat and walk through the trees and put my fingers to new leaves and feel that little prickle of nature’s energy flowing up my arm, making my eyes wider and brighter. I want to feel better. It’s so hard to feel better without spring, without the new air, the new grass, the new leaves. I suppose the human spirit was made to overcome winter. So, either we do or we don’t. Maybe it’s a choice. So I will stare the stagnant air in the […]
I took this picture with an app on my phone, so I realize it’s hard to see, but hopefully you can tell it’s a little acorn hat. Right now it’s sitting up on a vase on our fireplace mantel, waiting to slide over a new little noggin in June. Speaking of the fireplace, sometimes I think we’re going to need to use it forever. We just got almost twenty inches of snow recently and another bunch is expected soon. I tweeted that the snow was starting to feel like a straight jacket. And so is the cold. We had friends over last night and they liked the fireplace. They asked if we had recorded the news show about me and alcoholism and our family. I didn’t know, but Ryan had it saved on our saving thing-a-ma-jig so we watched it with them and my whole body vibrated like I was nervous. I just […]
Back when I quit drinking, I gave Miles an explanation I thought he could understand. Then I was a bit astounded at his ability to understand. (I give him all the credit.) This morning Ryan looked at his phone and saw it was the 20th. For us, the 20th always sticks out, a number that shouts SOBRIETY! So he said some congratulatory things to me from the other room, calling them out. Miles figured out what his daddy was referring to and came to me, stood next to me and asked, “Does that mean you had another month of not drinking wine?” “Yes, that’s right, honey.” He beamed and bounced a little bit, gave me a quick little side squeeze and ran off to play. ::::: When I think back on the days when Asher was brand new and Miles was so much smaller, it always stings my heart. It was a hard […]
Sometimes I have these epiphany moments that aren’t even really epiphanies but I don’t know what to call them. Then later, when I try to tell someone or think through my “aha moment” again, it just falls flat and I’m all, well that’s really nothing new. But sometimes the epiphanies that are set on repeat, the ones that come over and over again because I have to learn them over and over again? The ones that seem so simple and plain a little while later?They’re like an old hymn or a favorite movie I’ve seen a hundred times, the way that parts just grab a hold of me and feel new. Maybe because I forget so easily, but my heart remembers and so it sends a ping! to my head. Yesterday I was thinking about how strange it is that I knew anything at all Before (Before motherhood or marriage or sobriety), but […]
I’ll feel a little bump or rumble or slipping and sliding, something low on my belly and then I’ll reach there and wonder, was that you? who are you? maybe it was the buffalo wings… but I think maybe it was you. Before long you’ll be unmistakable. You’ll thud and thunder, roll and push. And I’ll know it’s you and I’ll start to know some things about you, just by the ways that you move in me. ::::: I can say that about me too, one year later.I’ll ask myself, was that you? who are you? Because all these months I’ve only been just a start, just a small thud, slipping and sliding, finding my way to growing my heart and mind and discovering what they were made to know and be.Not just being a bundle of a thousand mysterious things that are only there for the trying to be somebody else. Before […]
This post was originally written on January 19th, almost a year ago, and on the day before I quit drinking. The experience described in this post was a catalyst for change in my life. Because it’s true, what are we here for, if not to feel fully alive? To take risks and let go…to strive and overcome…to find ourselves wrapped up in the journey while we tell our truths and help each other. The moments with my boys in this post were just the taste I needed of all of that, and I’m so grateful. ::::: We laughed until our cheeks hurt. We burned down that hill like gravity itself with our coats and mittens crackling under the cold and we just couldn’t stop laughing. We bounced and spun and grabbed tightly to each other. We even face planted once, spilling off the sled in a pile, me on top of Miles on […]
We talk of old things and new things and I’m caught in between with a thousand thoughts and feelings tight in my throat. I feel it all, every memory with their aches and their releasing and then I see the depth and grace of what is happening now. Our bowls are piled high with noodles and vegetables that make a rainbow and it’s all covered over with a sauce that fills every space and covers every color, and we are thick with words and time and now. Two babies are coming and we have babies at home that are kids. We have years with husbands and more years of knowing each other and we watch the history of it all flashing across the table in exchange when we’re together. It seems that’s what happens for me anyway, when I sit with people I’ve always known. It triggers the long long ago past and […]
Yesterday it snowed and snowed. So much snow. I shoveled our driveway because the snow is just fluff and I’m a strong pregnant lady. I shoveled again later so Ryan would be able to get in the driveway after work. I swear the snow plows push more snow from the street to the end of our driveway than all the other houses in the world. I’m sure of it. So then I was tired. After my first round of shoveling the boys wanted to make cookies so we got out all the ingredients and then we needed the butter to soften to room temperature. Both of them knew what that meant and I was surprised. So I lay down on my side on my bed and was glad for the butter excuse. Asher found me within 30 seconds and he walked up to the end of the bed and said, Hi Mommyyyy in […]
I walk with my Dad, around the track, lap one, lap two, lap three…but we don’t keep track. We get lapped by the runners and we lap the slow-walkers. One of the slow-walkers says, Good morning! like it’s the first time we’ve passed him, every time. And then sometimes he breaks into a run, his bent back and knobby knees pushing forward in short bursts, like he just can’t help himself. Like he’s racing and trying to win in the last seconds. I want to be like him. I want to be content going my own pace, surrendering to what passes me by and what I leave behind. I want to burst forth, breaking into a run every once and a while, when I have the energy, only when I can. It has taken me until age 35 to even begin to understand when to walk–when to wait and see and feel, and […]
So there I was on the TV. That was surreal. It was all a blur and then it was done and I whispered, I hope it helps. I didn’t know if it would…I’m just me, it’s just a few moments in time, but I hoped. Even if it was just one person, sitting on the other side of the screen, ready to see themselves in my story and feel less alone, I wanted something new for them. I wanted the mom or dad out there who feels stuck and alone to know that I was living it too and I didn’t believe in living in any kind of new way and today, I’m okay. I mean, I’ll always be a work in progress and this is in no way easy, but I’m okay, I’m better than okay. I am somehow living something new. I wanted that person to know that they can do […]
My addict mind has often told me that it wasn’t that bad, that maybe I don’t even really have a problem. And then something happens like the night with the wine for the cooking of the food. The way I was suddenly crying over that smell, suddenly frozen with fear and regret. Lately these surprise attacks of a clear memory of what it was like come packaged in morning sickness. I’m feeling sick (all through the day) not because I drank too much the night before, but for a much less guilt-inducing reason. The Acorn. My pregnancy. I’m so grateful for the constant nausea since it’s a good sign things are going well, growing and creating, cells and neurons zapping and popping and actual organs beginning to make their shapes. And all at the same time, even while I feel that joy, I’m frequently hit with this intense sense memory complete with every […]
Dr. P. has enormous hands. When we met him about two years ago and knew he would be doing Asher’s brain shunt surgery, Ryan joked, How is he going to manage surgery on such a small head with those sausage fingers? I watched those same hands I’ve come to know (and maybe even love) as they circled Asher’s head at his check-up on Thursday. He knows what he’s doing. He knows what he’s looking for. He runs his pointer finger and thumb along the valve (shunt) on the right side of The Noggin and he pushes a little to feel for something I don’t understand. I was right next to this big man and my boy and I was vacantly watching because the fear I have as Asher’s mom always rears its feisty head in the children’s hospital. I float through it all while we’re there, holding more tightly to that small hand […]
Miles had a paintbrush but no paint, and he painted anyway. He moved that little hand back and forth and back and forth, imagining blue for his playhouse. He was the only one that knew exactly how it was turning out. He had the whole big picture up in his adorable noggin. He always does. He sees it all, that boy of mine. He was working very hard. I watched him while his brother watched him and it was such a perfect fall day and I can’t believe they’re mine. There are things a mom just can’t describe. These feelings we have for them, they are just too personally rich, too much at the center of us to be pulled out. Maybe that’s good. We honor the intimacy of family that way, even while we touch on universal truths and nod our heads in recognition. I hope one day my boys read my […]
It seems like they were just babies. Now they’re building a play house in the backyard and I don’t know how that can be. They are exactly who they are for exact reasons. One hides often and the other throws things a lot. They balance each other out and are just exactly perfect exactly how they are. They are good friends, our boys. Every mother wants her children to stay friends for their lifetimes. I’m no exception. I hope they will always put their heads together to find answers and stand up for each other. We all need someone who is always on our side. There are so many exciting things happening for us these days. Our family is in an entirely different place than we were even one year ago. And even with all the changes and so much on our family platter, Ryan and I can still so often be heard […]
I have never seen a greater monster or miracle than myself. – MontaigneHer teenage son was trying to pour her booze down the kitchen sink’s drain. She was drunk and desperate and she wrapped her arms around him to pull him away, to save herself from having none. They both fell to the floor, wrestling and tugging and pushing and pulling. He was stealing from her and she was stealing from him. She had carried him and brought him to life and now she felt like she was killing him with herself. The arms that once held the soft weight of his infant body, the hands that gently ran over his newborn skin, had turned on her. She was broken and he was breaking and then she got help. She is sober one and a half years and he is still angry. He sees the monster more than he sees the miracle. Sometimes […]
I am pushing a cart, rushing from aisle to aisle getting milk and nutella and even juice boxes for a fun surprise when I get home. I see him rounding the corner in the frozen food section and my heart lifts. I join him, pulling off to the side with a hearty, Hi you! Hey stranger, how ya been? I’m doing well, how are you? Good. Good. I might get my license back this month. Alright, that’s great! It would be a long winter without one. Well, I do make it to the casino sometimes because there’s a bus. I figure it’s the least I can do. I mean, we stole their land and their buffalo, so now I give them my money. He smiles wider and his eyes do that bright and twinkly thing. A thing they didn’t do when I first met him, the first night he joined my chemical dependency […]
We painted. For hours. It was our anniversary and the two short dudes were staying with Nanny and Bapa. Painting may not sound like a very nice way to spend a day celebrating six years of perfect wedded bliss, but there we were. (Actuallly, we like to work on house projects together when without the kiddos. We talk, we boss each other around, we take our time.) Anyway. We were painting the kitchen and taking turns observing out loud how annoying it was that the paint didn’t seem to want to be on the wall. Or maybe, it was the previous coat of paint that was trying to shirk off the new and better, brighter color. We rolled and rolled and brushed and brushed and the paint put up its fight, acting all see-through no matter what amount of paint was being slathered over it. Of course, this was an analogy to me. […]
I did some writing for a while in my favorite coffee shop today, but with my boys out of town for a couple of days, I felt the pull back to the quiet house. I looked around and knew there was too much mess and dirty for a clear head, so I cleaned for a while and then I played Super Mario Bros and then cleaned some more. My head is clear now. And so is the counter top and even the under of the couch. My friend came over and we sat on the patio and talked about things that matter and when I look at her I see this beautiful person that reflects me and I feel better about who I am. We are both so broken and so fixed. I made her late for dinner because of stories. Then I got in the car and drove to the grocery store. […]
So I disappear for a while and then I come back with a random post, waxing philosophical on crying strangers. Am weird. Then so many of you were kind enough to say something along the lines of Um…okay, Heather…but how are YOU? I’m well{ish} I’m trying to make friends with the middle. And by that I mean that I struggle to be okay with not being perfect while I also mostly just want to cave to being the opposite of perfect. For example, I feel so much more peace these days about all things motherhood. I used to ruminate and worry much more than I do with sobriety in my pocket, and it’s strange new territory. Because as an addict (and a human being) I have this all or nothing tendency. So. That whole peace thing is bordering on laziness. Believe me. I know. I live here. Yesterday I did more nothing than […]
I think back on it. Back before we moved, nearly eight months ago already. I think back on the difference and I compare for a while. I feel sick to my stomach for a while. Then I feel grateful for a while. There was rarely anything that could interrupt my drinking routine. And if something came up, I almost always found a way. You’d be amazed at how there’s always a way when your will is that strong. But one night, after Miles had been sleeping for an hour or so and I was getting sufficiently buzzed, or trying to, anyway, he woke up with a cry. This rarely happened, and when Ryan and I went to him, he threw up and threw up and threw up. His sheets and pillow, his floor, his little blankie, everything covered in vomit. I sprang to action and forgot my wine. I held him and cleaned […]
