A friend said to me not long ago that being around CD, Bear and I can be a little hard to take because we sort of block others out.

That wasn't easy to hear.

I don't want to be that person. I don't want us to be that family. I think of myself, of us, as open. Curious.

Isn't it strange how wrong I am about the person in the mirror?

A couple of years ago, we started putting up walls because there was so much pain and anger around CD's depression. As much as I vented, there was that much more I couldn't - wouldn't - say.

And I never realized that even as we healed, the wall obviously didn't come down. Although Bear has many friends and is really social - the truth is that we seem happiest these days when we're the 3 of us, whether piled on the couch with Sara watching Mythbusters or walking along the river with our ice cream cones.

This can't be healthy. But I'm not sure I know how to let go, let in. I tell myself we're just a close family, and maybe we are. Yet...

Even after everything becomes all right again, it isn't over.

Posted by: Elizabeth at 06:58 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
Post contains 210 words, total size 1 kb.

(On a slutting-my-blog note; WEBLOG AWARDS VOTING IS OPEN! Each IP address is allowed to VOTE HERE for Corporate Mommy once a day. Don't forget - SnoozeButton Jim and EverydayStranger Helen, as well as Munuviana, are nominated too!)

This morning, CD was getting Bear ready for school and woke me up, behind schedule and frazzled. Asking for help.

I didn't move.

In the past, I would have launched out of bed like a bottle rocket and fixed everything.

This morning, I stayed in warmth of the comforter and waited. Finally, CD was able to think things through and ask me, specifically, to get Bear dressed.

"Sure," I said. And I did.

I'd asked this past weekend. I asked what my part had been in this crash of us. I asked, near tears, frustrated, what I had done?

He looked at me and said, gently, "too much."

And I realized, as I held his hand between the front seats of the van, that he was right. We've crept into these roles. I, the uber-competant superhero on crack. He, the layabout husband who doesn't deserve me.

Except. Not.

I don't know how we let this happen, how we slipped down this spiral over the last few years. I just know that we've hit bottom.

From here there is only out or up. And no crystal ball to tell me which it will be. Just faith. Just faith.

Love is not a victory march, it's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah... Leonard Cohen

P.S. Ever wondered what Corporate Mommy Looks like? Check out Philip's site and see....

Posted by: Elizabeth at 04:58 AM | Comments (8) | Add Comment
Post contains 277 words, total size 2 kb.