Tara Lane

2002-11-10T07:00:00.000-08:00

He mocks me when I tell him he becomes self righteous and it just goes to proves my point. But he's too ignorant to see that. He can talk me into circles until I forget the orginal point of the discussion. Frustrated, I paddle in tears directionless. He thinks no one cares for him. I feel like I'm in the same spotlight. Are we both this selfish needing to feel more love and attention?

2002-09-18T19:07:00.000-07:00

“You cry every day,” he said with such hostility.

What am I supposed to say to that? Give him my reasons?

He sits in the recliner and barks, No’s to every child that transgresses. “No!” to the 11 month old, while I scramble to stop her from flopping all of the books out of the bookcase again. “No!” to the dog who is attempting to chew the furniture. I hurry to give him a bone. “No!” to the 5 year old who is getting too hyper. I take pains to suggest things that will help calm her down. He huffs and puffs. I try and sooth things over before The Man blows a vocal chord. I need to keep him calm. He doesn’t get violent, he just gets to damn arrogantly upset. He makes things so much worse by adding salt, baking soda and vinegar to every situation. Meanwhile, I’m running mad. I’m cooking dinner, feeding the 11 month old, giving baths, doing dishes, taking the dog out because the man sitting in the recliner yells, “The Dog needs to got out!” It feels like I’m running non stop. I’m running in circles. Something I’ve just cleaned has become so messy again. I’m hot, messy and so frustrated. I’m about ready to scream.

The other recliner, that I’ve just cleaned off has toys on it. I bump them to the ground, look at The Man and say, “I can’t ever relax! I’m going crazy.” I start to cry. He snaps at attention and like a snake who is ready to bite-- he says, “Well you don’t have to cry!!” This makes me feel so much better. I sob. I start getting ready to feed the 11 month old and I process what he has said. I cannot take this schedule anymore. I cannot move my hands anymore to do all of this. Where is the time for me?

Then he says those words, “You cry every day.” I drop the baby spoon. “I cannot talk to you anymore. You feed the baby for once. “ And I go call my sister. It’s good to talk to someone who understands. He yells every day-- I cry. I’d rather cry than yell.

2002-09-11T08:23:00.000-07:00

Random Acts of Journaling Entry. Use this phrase in a poem of your own:

where ________ wells like _________

I’ve thrown open my windows
And closed the front door.
The church bells have rung 4 times.
I stood on the porch
So I could be closer to the ringing.

What I experienced was that
The birds chirped louder,
flew higher.
Puppies joined in the chorus.

Where wind rushes and wells like a prosperous spirit.

This time last year I was rubbing my belly,
What was I bringing into this terror-full world?

I couldn’t believe the images I saw
Each headline was a blow, each item
A couldn’t believe, a what was next?

Some how there’s been a what next,
There’s been a little couldn’t believe
Who’s come out of my belly,
There’s been a million more headlines,
More items, a thousand images, church bells,
Prayers, and tears.

It’s been a year today.
Someday September 11th will come along

And it won’t mean much to my children
and their children.

That day will be good.

2002-09-09T08:53:00.000-07:00

I was startled awake by a nightmere this morning. I stepped out of my front door and into a foggy morning. I placed my hand above my eyes trying to see, but the fog made it impossible. My mother stepped forward. She died 4 years ago from cancer. I grasped her hands and I said, "Happy 9/11." As soon as I said that there was a firey explosion accross the street and it blew us away.

This anniversary snuck up on me. It seems like it happened yesterday. Even though I am living in the middle of the country and the event didn't effect anyone I know, the event shook me to at my core as I'm sure it did many Americans. I don't know what I will do on Wednesday. my husband will be home, but he will be sleeping. I don't want to be alone that day. Many people I know want to see the images again-- they want the images to air on TV once more so people can remember and can be angry again and can be reminded as to why we are fighting this war on terrorism. I just can't do it. I don't need to see those images. They will forever be looping in my head. I was on bedrest when 9/11 happened. We counted over 35 channels that covered the tragedy. I couldn't do anything on bedrest but watch TV. The weeks following 9/11 I couldn't concentrate on reading books. I saw those planes hit the buildings over and over again. I imagined some of the people at their desks typing at their computer, or talking on their phones. Some of them were laughing. Some of them wouldn't have been able to point out Afghanistan on a map, but of them were living at the time the airplanes hit the tower. That's what I know everytime I see that footage. When I see the airplane strike? I know hundreds of people have just died.

Then there is the horror of being in the airplanes. I can't even begin to imagine looking out of a airplane window headed for a tall skyscraper. See? I do just fine torturing myself. I don't need all day newscoverage to help me out!

Yesterday I read this heartbreaking article about a nurse who was at ground zero. She calls it "the pile." She is going to be scarred the rest of her life. The article really brings home the nightmeres I have imagined that the "rescue workers" must endure day after day. My heart just breaks for them.

If my 11 month old behaves I think I will try to attend church on Wednesday at noon.

2002-09-07T05:14:00.000-07:00

This week for the first time in five years I really truly felt like a mother. Sometimes, it has felt like I have been just playing mommy all of these years. The moment of truth came to me while I was packing a lunch for my five year old kindergartener. Motherhood hit me while I stood at the counter and made a sandwich, put chips in a bag, tucked in a snack cake, and poured juice in a thermos. I could have zippered up my tears in a Ziploc baggie.

The next moment came when the school rules said that parents could no longer drop their children inside the classroom. The children now have to play on the playground and wait for school to start. I actually had to drop my new kindergartener off at the curb by the playground. She thought nothing of it as she skipped happily towards the monkey bars. I stayed there at the curb and made sure she was safe. I dropped her off at the curb like she was some teenager or something! Even my 11 month old saw her big 5 year old sister walk away from the van and she started to cry.

After school I pick her up. She’s so excited. She usually has most of her lunch in her Scooby Doo lunch box. She tells me she doesn’t eat it at school because she wants to hurry up and get to recess. She then wolfs it down at home.

I can’t believe I’m a mother. I can’t believe it hasn’t hit me until now.

2002-08-29T19:03:00.000-07:00

Random Acts of Journaling August Entry
I wish that everyone could...
I want to believe that...
I would like to go to

First Licks of Ice Cream

I wish that everyone could go back and taste their first icy lick of ice cream.

We hopped into the mini van yesterday and went to the little outdoor ice cream place that was built with brown logs. My five year old chose a picnic table under a tree and announced that we were now in the shade, even though the sun wasn’t out at all yesterday. We ordered our favorite, mint chip ice cream cones, and had just enough quarters to pay for it.

My 10 month old baby sat in her stroller and ignored us. She seemed to watch the cars roll by on their Wednesday noon drive. She didn’t give us a second glance until we got our green speckled cones.

She leaned forward in her stroller and touched my leg. I gave my cone it’s first lick around it’s edges (so it wouldn‘t start to drip right away), and then poked the top of the cone onto the baby’s lips.

At full tilt the taste hit into her. She instantly started waving her arms back and forth. She squealed a full scale , grinned, leaned in for more and growled “Mama!”

I can’t even imagine what that first lick of cold minty ice cream tasted like to her. By the time I got her home, she was all pink and pastel green with speckled chocolate chips all over her.

I would like to go back to my first ice cream cone. While we sat at our prime spot picnic table I told my 5 year old how “when I was your age” my oldest sister worked at an ice cream store. We would go pick her up after she closed up the store… funny thing was… We were always a little early so we could sample the ice cream. I could have a plastic spoon full of any flavor I wished for. There was pina colada, bubble gum, chocolate chip, butter pecan, chocolate, and so many more. And The funny thing? I always wanted mint chocolate chip.

My 10 month old kept nodding her head up and down as I let her sample my ice cream cone. What makes them so certain so young? I want to believe that I will be that certain again someday.

2002-08-25T06:43:00.000-07:00

Locksmith Master:: I had another real adventure in mothering last week. I attempted to take the kids and the new puppy outside to take a walk. I asked the 5 year old to go upstairs to get a plastic bag so I could pick up the dog poop. As usual I had the garage door opener, but I didn't have the house keys (or car keys.) That's usually what I have, because I don't lock the door in between the house and the garage. Well, when she came back down from getting a bag, she locked the door... I have no c lue why. She never locks the door. We were locked out.

My husband was sleeping... of course. He works third shift. He's always sleeping, or so it seems. I didn't even try to ring the doorbell. That wouldn't wake him up. I got some pieces of the oldest's sidewalk chalk and I threw it at our bedroom window hoping to wake him up. I broke several pieces of chalk doing this. Nope, I I didn't wake him.

I graduated from that to throwing a roll of duct tape at the bedroom window. Surely that would wake him up!! Frustrated at trying over and over with no result I had to think of something else.

Next, I spied my husband's golf clubs in the garage. No, they wouldn't reach up to the window, unless I got out the step ladder! Which of course I did. I then proceeded to knock on the bedroom window with a golf club, a snow shovel, and then a broom. I finally came to the conclusion that my husband must be dead. I had been knocking at the window for about an hour and a half and still he had not arose to see what all of the racket was about!

I was so incredibly frustrated, not to mention embarassed. What if a nieghbor looked out their window to see me on a step ladder with a golf club rapping on my own window?? I didn't think I had too many options. I didn't have any money to use a payphone with and if knocking on the window for an hour wouldn't wake my deaf spouse up why would a phone call? We didn't have a lot of money to pay a locksmith with. Our landlord lives about an hour and a half away. Perhaps I wasn't thinking logically because I was so stressed out-- but I didn't think I had any options.

I put away the step ladder with a lot of cussing words. I was really lucky that our 10-month-old was in such a good mood. The new puppy was also just lying on the garage floor and looking at me like, "What kind of family have I gotten myself involved with?" My oldest was the only one freaking out. She cried and said, "We aren't going to be able to get inside until night time when daddy wakes up. I have to go potty!!!"

I got paper clips from a bowl in the garage. My husband always steals a bunch from work. It makes him feel better that he's taking something from the state of Wisconsin since he hasn't had a raise in 2 years. The paperclips in the lock didn't work. We keep all of our tools in the garage.

I can't tell you how I did it. I took some thingamabob and twisted it around the doorknob and pulled it towards me. Then I put a screwdriver into the doorknob and pounded on the screwdriver with a hammer until I had some room to fiddle. I moved the screwdriver around until I could jimmy the lock. I opened the door-- FREEDOM!!

We'll never be able to lock that door again though because the doorknob is ruined!

I gathered the kids and went upstairs. I burst into our bedroom, saw that jerk of a husband all curled up in bed sleeping soundly and yelled, "ARE YOU DEAD?!?!?!" Unlucky for him, he wasn't.

I just don't understand how he couldn't hear all of that racket! The head of our bed is right under our window! There are chalk marks on our window now. We were outside for more than 2 hours. I know it's more or less my fault, but why does crap like this always happen to me?? I can always find a logical way to blame it on my spouse. If he didn't work third shift this wouldn't have happened like this! I just know it!

2002-08-20T10:02:00.000-07:00

Mother: On my humiliating walk of shame that I took on Sunday, I saw a sign on a street corner, "Chocolate Lab Puppies, $25." It melted my heart to think of those puppies, but I didn't really give it another thought. My back was aching, and my arms felt like they were ready to break from carrying my daughter.

Later on in the afternoon, I mentioned the sign to my husband and told him that when I get a job again that is something we will have to look into. I am just so tired of being the only adult in the house when he is at work. Having a dog would help put me at ease. We have both wanted a dog for a long time.

He told me to get dressed. He told my daughter to get ready. I tried to talk him out of it, I really did! I couldn't.

Our newest member of the family is a 6 week old Lab puppy. It has taken us two days to name him. Initially he was Sammy (as in Sosa.) However, with the impending baseball strike we decided to name him something else. His name now and forever is Patriot. It fits him somehow. His eyes are so beautiful.

He's the most non-hyper puppy I've ever taken care of... although I must admit, I'm exhausted! When I get up at night to feed my 10 month old, it's also time to take Patriot out! Of course, our 10 month old has finally decided to start crawling. It's hard to keep her away from Patriot's toys and Patriot away from her toy's.

Despite being exhausted, tired of going outside constantly, and haggard I think this is going really well for me. It's really improving my attitude and my outlook. I'm looking forward, instead of looking back.

2002-08-18T12:14:00.000-07:00

Human:: Humiliated. I thought I would take my girls to the park this afternoon. We rode our bikes. I had my 10 month on the baby bike seat attatched to my bike. I noticed it was difficult to pedal, and the wheels were a little deflated. Either I had gained some weight since the last time I rode, or the the wheels had leaked some air. We played at the park and then we rode to the gas station.

I had some troubles balancing the bike with my daughter still in the bike seat while getting air in the tire. I thought I did okay, until I finished putting air in the back tire. I looked at the front tire, and it was over-inflated. It had grown in inches since I had just finished putting air in it. Lucky for me some bikers were there to quickly point it out for me, otherwise I would have never seen it! :-P

I felt so stupid. The tire was inflated way past it's rim. I couldn't even walk the bicycle home. I tried to urge my daughter to ride her bike home and wake her father up and have him come and pick me and my bike up. She wouldn't. I have such a bad back right now from sleeping at my in-laws (they have a 40 year old bed.) I walked carrying a squirmy 20 pound baby, a frown and flush on my face, and fighting tears. I was so embarassed. I stopped once to sit on a curb. My daughter said, "I don't think we'll ever make it home." Easy for her to say as she peddled on her bike!

It was my fault. I over inflated the tires. However, it's just so easy to blame my husband. If he was there, it wouldn't have happened. He works third shift, so we hardly ever do things as a family. I'm tired of third shift, so most likely I will secretly blame him for this bike tire incident even though he is proven innocent. See? My logic works perfectly well... in my head anyway. Damn tire.

2002-08-18T07:01:00.000-07:00

This was the sight outside my kitchen window this morning. About five birds kept on flying, hovering and thrashing right outside our window. Maybe they were trying to find a way in? I couldn't figure out what they were doing. It didn't look like they were building a nest. They chirped some what loudly to my cat's delight. My cat and I sat and watched the birds as if we were under a spell. I would sigh, and my kitty would bark (because that's what she does when she sees a bird.) I wish I knew what they were doing, and why they left after only 30 minutes. Of course, I was the only one awake in my house to see this sight so I had to take a picture to prove it did happen.

2002-08-16T20:42:00.000-07:00

"Remember the MASH (Mansion-Apartment-Shack-House) game you used to play when you were a little kid, to predict what your life would be like when you grow up?" Play Mash here. I did because I needed a little cheering up. Instead, I am walking away a little frightened! Here are my results:

You will live in Mansion.

You will drive a Green Limo.

You will marry Joe from Blues Clues and have 10 kids.

You will be a Sculpter in Canada.

2002-08-16T17:13:00.000-07:00

Woman: I am also so tired, unmotivated, and depressed. I wish I knew what has infected my soul. Tackling any task around the house takes so much energy on my part. Why am I feeling this way? Is it because my daughter is starting kindergarten next week? I thought I was looking forward to that!

Whatever is wrong, I feel the tension in my bones, my back and in my jaw. My hand finds it's way to the small of my back and cradles it... comforting it. Whatever is taking it's toil on me, I see it in the dishes that lay filthy in the sink-- I want to crash into them until they break into a splintered million pieces and cut my hands. Whatever is burrowing my brow, I feel it buried deep within the laundry basket. I don't want my hands to go deep within the depths there. I can't stand the thoughts of folding the clothes in there, and so they sit day after day gathering more wrinkles.

I wish all of this was mere laziness. I could handle that! I could cure it with a simple walk to get my blood pumping again. I know something is bothering me, I just don't know what it is. I'm really in denial. It will come crashing down soon... I feel the doom coming.

I tried explaining this all to my husband. "This is why the counter hasn't been clean." He didn't understand. I didn't make myself dinner. I ate another bowl of cornflakes like I've been doing for the past week. I don't want to bake anything.

I just don't know what to do about this anymore.

2002-08-14T11:01:00.000-07:00

Woman: I am in deep denial that I am home from our mini “vacation.” Suddenly, I am stuck again with two children that I must entertain and feed. Where are their grandparents? They did such a good job at taking care of them, I had so much time to just sit on the sun porch a read a book. I didn’t even enjoy the book, but I kept on reading anyway.

My kitchen even feels my despair at being home again. I am attempting to ignore the piles of dishes that are collecting themselves up on the counter. Do I really need to be here?

The baby is still teething and has that cold. We also need to jump through all of those pesky hoops to get our older one registered for kindergarten. The days are starting to get shorter. Soon another year will have passed.

I look at my in laws and they have lived a relatively happy life. They have loved their children equally and fully, they work hard, and they rest. They have wrinkles from laughing, and they have been disappointed. I have never heard them say a cross word. Never. How many people can you say that about? If I want to strive to be like them… I have such a long way to go.

2002-08-12T20:05:00.000-07:00

Wife, Mother: I think some times I may scream. I can't do it all, no matter what my husband thinks.

By the time we are in the mini van and ready to go some place, I am clenched up, sweating, and ready to take a nap. I'm frustrated because I have put the puzzle together of getting the show on the road. I got the girls ready, and myself ready on my own.

If I don't tell him I need help with getting the kids cleaned up, dressed, fed, and diapered he gets upset. "Why I could have, would have helped you! Yesseriiee!" However. If I do ask him for his help while I am running around with a curling iron in one hand, and wet wipes in another... he acts as if I have asked him to paint an elephant pink... with polka dots... (and stripes.) Why can't he just help? Why must I prompt him? How can he not see the desperation in my eyes?
"My Lord, if I have to make the girl another piece peanut butter toast I am going to combust into a polka dotted elephant. If I have to make another batch of bottles I'll crack myself open like Humpty Dumtpy. How can he not see that? How can he not reach out to help?

Let me say it all for you now, "Marriage counseling." Yes, I heard that echo in here. Sure did. I'm terrified to say that I'm not sure if marriage counseling would make us-- or break us.

2002-08-11T12:30:00.000-07:00

Wife: My husband took a day trip. He called me three times while he was away to tell me what he was doing, and to tell me he missed me. "No, I really miss you!" He sounded so shocked. It will be our four year anniversary this week. I always joke to him, "How much is that in dog years?" It can feel like so much longer.

He knows me now better than anyone does on this earth. He is my family now more than my sister, brother or father is. He knows my ugliness inside and out. The physical ugliness that peeks out in the morning to the fat monster that can creep out of my head during cranky afternoons. There is my heated side that he has seen, just as I have seen his. We have hurt each other more than we can count slammed doors.

"You will leave me one day" he said. It's been awhile since I really listened. I've been so rushed changing diapers, doing dishes, mopping floors, doing errands... when I stopped to listened, and I answered, "No, I won't." This time, when I paused it was because I knew I never would.

It gets so difficult for me, to live and breathe where we live. I have no deep connections there. No friends and no family. I feel like I could fade away fast if I didn't have to take the older one to T-ball. I start to feel resentful for having to live there, and pity for myself. I feel so isolated, and there doesn't seem to be a fix.

But today, while I wait for my husband to arrive back from his day trip I think about how lucky I am that I have a husband who has seen past my ugliness on days when it couldn't have been easy. There have been pissing contests on both of our parts. I'm sure there are more to come. Some days I don't know if we will make it... but today I know I'm going to try.

2002-08-11T07:38:00.000-07:00

Daughter: I'm away from home right now and in the same city as my father. I feel like I am in hiding, because I will not call him to let him know I am in town. If I go to the shopping center, or to a garage sale near a place he frequents I hope and pray I don't see his familiar scowl. It's not what I can handle right now. I don't think I could ever handle it.

I was going to be a big brave girl and hop into church this morning... my father be damned. If he was there I was going to say, "Oh! I didn't know you were back from your honeymoon already." That would have been a lie. Then I would tell him so carelessly, "I do not have time to have lunch with you today, nor tomorrow. This trip is for my family and I to spend time with my in-laws. Last time we were here we had to ignore them and attend to your wedding festivities." (Which was a gross mis-use of wedding etiquette and tackiness!)

I wasn't a big brave girl. I didn't want a confrontation. My father would see behind my words and say something to me that would blind me with rage and pain, and the cycle would begin all over again.

2002-08-05T19:45:00.000-07:00

Wife: It's going to be a hit and run post. It's day two of the vacation, and it hasn't been very restful. He said that my sister probably only says things that I only want to hear. That brings to doubt every loving conversation I've ever had with her. I know that's why he said it, and it brought me to my knees.

Mother: I finally felt a tooth peeking in my 9 month old's gums. It explain's a lot of screeching!

2002-08-04T09:29:00.000-07:00

Wife:
I am sure it shows that I am so completely new at this. I am not good at fancy graphics, nor do I have cool tricks up my sleeve. But this feels really good to me. For once I have something creative to do, and to try while I‘m stuck at home all day and night. It makes me feel good about myself that I am attempting it. I can get better, and I can learn! This will evolve as I learn more too.

Today marks the first day of my husband’s vacation. It will be interesting to see how long it takes him to get on my nerves! He works third shift, and he will probably until our baby learns how to sleep through the night! It’s been so difficult for me. He gets home at six a.m. He will usually let me sleep until 8 a.m. Then, he usually goes to sleep until 8 p.m. Sometimes he stays up to go to the grocery store, or to go to a little league game.

Sometimes he wants to have sex with me right in the middle of the day. I’m just not in the mood. Both kids are awake, and the baby has the potential to be crying. It’s just not very romantic to me to be “in the moment” when we are constantly stopping to hear if the baby is crying in the other room. Also, I’ve probably just changed a dirty diaper, fixed two different lunches for picky eaters, washed dishes, and by now I am probably in dire need of a shower-- and have I mentioned that I haven’t shaved my arm pits or legs in over a week? Who has the time? My point is, I am much more in the mood for sex in the evening when the kids are tucked up into bed, I’m finally relaxed…and oh, that’s right! My husband is at work!

So, this vacation of his will be something of an adventure. I’m sure every night he will look at me after the kids are in bed and say, “Okay, you can’t use the kids as an excuse now… pay up.”

2002-08-03T11:58:00.000-07:00

Daughter: Saturdays. This will always be known to me as the day of avoidance. This is the day of the week that my father tries to call me. If I am feeling generous and I pick up the phone we stumble through a conversation. Most of the time he asks me questions that he has asked me five times before, and I have answered six times before. There are the subjects you try and stay away from. The people you try not to ask about. The one you don't want to know about. The lecture you are afraid you are going to get.

My father just remarried. He asked her to marry him after dating her for only 3 weeks. We've heard some alarming things about her reputation. Just as I'm sure her family is not thrilled about my father and his domineering personality. My siblings and I questioned my father nicely about this sudden engagment. We were concerned. He threw a fit, wouldn't talk to us, and told everyone that his own children gave him a "tongue lashing."

We went to his wedding, and all of the wedding activities we were expected to be at for the weekend. We were my father's props. He barely talked to us the whole weekend. When my brother arrived my father didn't even introduce his bride to him. Through the whole weekend she didn't talk to any of us. Someone at the church chuckled so jolly to my daughter, "You have a new grandma!" I chuckled right back, "Her new grandma doesn't even talk to her!" A bit rude I must admit, but she wasn't my daughter's grandma.

On Saturday, my father spoke to me. I don't know why he asked me this. Whenever I am in town, I stay with my in-laws. He asked me what hotel I was staying at. I said, "I'm staying with my in-laws, the ones who weren't invited." All of my sibling's in-laws were invited. And the bride actually knew my inlaws! "Oh, that wasn't intentional," he claimed. Everything with him is intentional and a mind game. You can count on that.

At the church the bride exclaimed to many people "When the groom gets back he is going to fit and trim since I haven't had it for 15 years!" Ewwww!!! Many people whispered and doubted that she hadn't "had it" for 15 years.

In the reception line the Bride's sister spoke loudly, "I don't approve of this wedding. I do hope it works out. I doubt it will." I think I heard an "Amen." Many people have observed the bride and groom. My father seems to listen to only about 40% of what she says. I guess why should he treat her any differently than he treats his own family? It's very depressing. I almost felt sorry for her. But she's not blameless either.

I don't know what to think anymore. I just knew know that I will never spend more than a couple hours with my father again. I can't take it. I find that very sad. My mother was the one that made us family...but, she is gone.

2002-08-03T10:21:00.000-07:00

Introduction: I need a place to write out my inner most emotions, ramblings, rants, and laughs. I can't include those things in my web log because people I acutally know read my blog and I may want to rant about them! So, I feel I have to create this on line journal for myself. I chose this name because I was once Bethany Lane, and then Tara Lane at Open Diary. I no longer have the funds to pay to use that site. Thanks to blogger, I can open up here. So... here I go.