Remember Me?

The following post was drafted in 2014. A lot has happened since then. 

Are you surprised? 

Yeah, me neither. 

Maybe I'll find the focus to catch you up on the last 5 years. In the meantime, this will have to suffice as I am exhausted from trying to recall email addresses and passwords associated with this blog.

***
I have no idea where the past year has gone.

They say time flies when you are having fun. But I wouldn't exactly call the last 12 months... FUN. It's been a challenging adventure for sure, and shows no signs of letting up.

Let's play catch up...

Cinderella is now 17 and a senior in high school. She was hospitalized a third time over the Christmas holiday, at her request... vis a vis a note which I found on my desk one Friday morning after she had already left for school:

I immediately texted her at school. She was ok. She was grateful and relieved to know that she had been heard and I had her back...as I always have. We would talk more when she came home after school.

I called the National Suicide Hotline.
I called her therapist.
I called Prince Charming.

All agreed she was not in any immediate danger. The note was her way of opening a dialogue. And talk, we did. I asked all the usual questions: How long have you felt this way? What triggered it? What have you been doing to cope? Did it come up in your weekly sessions with your therapist?

She felt she needed to go back into the hospital. Spending the weekend with Prince Charming was important so she could go shopping for gifts for her family. It was a week before Christmas. She knew she would spend it in the hospital so she wanted to make sure her gifts would be under our trees.

Her hospital stay was an absolute CLUSTERFUCK of mismanagement by an inexperienced social worker who was put in charge of her case.  In the interest of brevity I'll spare you the details other than to say there were MANY phone calls between myself, Prince Charming, the social worker and Director of the hospital to thwart an early discharge the day AFTER Christmas. There may have been some yelling involved. And a letter. And numerous apologies from Administrative staff assuring us that while there were no do-overs for Cinderella, steps would be taken to ensure this doesn't happen again to another family.

Cinderella spent two weeks in the hospital, and another two weeks in a day program in an effort to solidify the skills she had learned and give her greater chances for a success re-entry back into normal life. In the months following, she has stumbled a bit. And recovered. And stumbled a bit more. But I am happy to report amidst the minor setbacks she has successfully ended a toxic relationship, attended an event for accepted students to one of her chosen colleges and registered for classes/inquired about housing/researched financial aid all on her own (well, ok that involved some gentle pushing on my part) and has maintained an 80+ average in ALL of her classes.

Yes, I am proud.

(And yes, I still sleep with all of the OTC drugs, razors and knives in my bedroom.)

How Do I Do It?

The Courage to Be a Stepmom, by Sue Patton Thoele was a book recommended to me many years ago when I first started this blog. I will admit to buying it, and reading *some* of it. I never finished it, but what I did read was pure genius and offered me just the right amount of insight I needed to trudge through the feelings I was experiencing at the time - the feelings expressed in this post, which continues to get feedback and comments more than any other post...five years after it was first published.

So... you want to know how I've done it? Try this book. And if you have other recommendations for the small community of fellow Stepmoms that I am blessed to have here, please share in the comments section.

A New Normal?

Cinderella is home (YAY!)...with bright shiny new meds and a 60 year old psychiatrist with tattoos, piercings and gauges in his ears (Eww...but, KEWL!).

My butterfly has now faded and I am hopeful that I won't have to draw another one.

(HOWEVER, I am considering getting one TATTOO'd on my arm for her. I owe her a tattoo after getting an ambigram for her brother and sister after Prince Charming and I separated, and the symbolism of TRANSFORMATION seems fitting.)

In the meantime, I have hidden all of the Tylenol, Advil, cold medications and razors in the house.

This is normal, right? A new normal that the parent of a suicidal teen should expect?

And...MORE IMPORTANTLY...these fears will fade.

RIGHT?

The Butterfly Project

Last week, I drew a butterfly on my arm in support of Cinderella, courtesy of The Butterfly Project.

While it may not have stopped her from cutting THIS TIME, I believe it did reinforce the message of my unwavering support of her struggles...which is what ultimately allowed her to confide that she tried to commit suicide days earlier. And why she was brave enough to tell me that SHE NEEDED HELP and wanted to be hospitalized because she felt she was at risk of harming herself even more.

There is no ONE solution to the issues of teen depression, suicide and self-harming behaviors. The Butterfly Project is just one resource. All we can do as parents is to remain diligent in our research, finding new ways of educating ourselves and our teens, loving them IN SPITE OF their struggles. Of helping them to take flight ABOVE their challenges.

If you, or someone you know, is carving, scratching or cutting to cope with their INTERNAL pain... please know there is support and help available. Or you could try calling an information only line at 1-800-DONT-CUT.

And then maybe, draw a butterfly or two on your own arm as a show of support.

Slaying the Dragon

We're our own dragons as well as our own heroes, and we have to rescue ourselves from ourselves. -Tom Robbins

I could attempt to write a more eloquent blog post, but there is no poetic way of discussing depression, self-mutilation and attempted suicide in teens.

None.

Cinderella is back in the hospital, people.

She's struggling as so many teens (and adults) do. Trying to slay her own dragons. These dragons have resulted in two failed attempts at OD'ing  in the last week and NEW battle wounds along her arms and legs.

In the past four months since moving in with me, there is NO DOUBT that Cinderella has grown stronger. So much stronger than she was here and here. I'm infinitely proud of my big girl - of her strength, her grace and her hard-earned wisdom about life. I've tried reminding her that she's not alone and make a home for her where she can feel safe to just... BE.

But it's just not enough. Not yet. Not completely. The dragons keep telling Cinderella LIES. Lies that have her believing she's not worthy and unlovable and carving her own scarlet letters of self-loathing into her beautiful skin.

Cinderella is in a safe place now where she can gain even more strength to slay her dragons and rescue herself FROM herself. While driving home from visiting her last night, this song came on the radio...it's sort of become the soundtrack to this new chapter in our fairytale...it's so poignantly PERFECT:

I have no doubt that she will make it. I have to believe that, for the alternative is...well, NOT AN OPTION. Not in this fairytale.

In the meantime, I continue to surround her with love, encouragement, positive thinking and reminders that she is NOT ALONE. She and I are so very blessed to have friends who love her as much as I do and who do amazing things like devote a blog post to her. Please read it, and then follow the links to The Blogess' post on National Suicide Prevention Day. And then, please, SHARE IT so we can help others to slay their own dragons.

If you, or someone you know is in need of help, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK (8255). And visit the National Council for Suicide Prevention for additional resources.

Coming Out

I'm bisexual.
She tells me as only a teen can. No segues, just a random let's-put-it-out-there-before-I-lose-my-courage kind of way.
Oh, and did I mention I WAS DRIVING AT THE TIME???
Seriously, Cinderella. Could you have picked a more dangerous tactic???
My mind swirled, the car swerved a bit.
I quickly re-gained control over both.
I asked her how she knew.
Maybe that's a naive question, but it's a valid one that any parent would ask when their child comes out to them. Right??
"Have you ever kissed a girl before?"
Yes.
"WITH TONGUE?!?!?!"
Eww....NO!
[A-HA! Now you see my point as to why I had to ask if she were sure????]

"Ok. And what about boys? Have you ever kissed one?"
Oh sure. Yeah.

[Wait... WHAT?????!!!!! I missed her first kiss? How the-fuck-come didn't she tell me????
Oh. Right. Ok. This isn't about me right now. *ahem*]

Again, I asked if she were sure she were bisexual.
Let's be clear. I am not homophobic. I want her to be happy. No matter what. And I don't want her to miss out on enjoying a meaningful relationship with either sex by getting caught up in some self-imposed label.
Being a teen is all about experimentation. Trying on different personalities, friends, and nowadays - sexual orientations. Boy. Girl. Or...whatever.
I don't care either way. As long as she is safe, and makes smart decisions, and is mindful of her behavior and her choices.
And this is what I tell her.
"Screw the labels. Have fun. Enjoy being a teen. Experiment. Try things on for size."
I don't think she was expecting me to say that.
But she was relieved...and a bit shocked.
Winning!

Small Rewards

Cinderella: "Sometimes, I wish you were my real Mom."

*sppppppllllleeeeooossssshhhhhhhhh*

(That's the sound of my heart exploding.)

That one statement has just made the past 13 years of struggles, tears, custody battles and rising ABOVE... most of which you all have seen documented here... worth it.

Period.

 

16 Candles

Cinderella turned 16 this summer.
She celebrated with her family and one special "friend."*
In my home.

She wanted me to plan and host her party; just like old times when we all were living the fairytale together in the same castle. She's missed these parties over the past couple of years, while she struggled with accepting and dealing with her Dad's and my divorce.
She wanted a return to normalcy. She didn't want her 16th birthday to pass without something special to commemorate. And others who-shall-remain-nameless had conditioned her to believe that she wouldn't get a party because they were too expensive.
It took weeks of reassurance and gentle pushing by me before she allowed herself to hope for a party, let alone decide on what kind she wanted.
In the end, she didn't want a fancy dress party. She wanted to be home surrounded by those that love her most.
Prince Charming, Hansel & Gretel, my Mom, my (ex)StepMom, my ex-inlaws all came together to enjoy a casual summer BBQ in celebration of Cinderella.
We went with a mermaid theme. The Little Mermaid was always her favorite movie as a little girl, and she has never outgrown her fascination of mermaids. Shades of teal and aqua, seashells, and her favorite crab dip were enjoyed by all.
Her cake has become one of my favorites.
So beautiful in it's simplicity.
Just like her party...and what I hope will become her life moving forward.

[*More on the "friend" later.]

Cutting to the Chase (Part III)

(Continued from Part II)

What is it about the mention of the police that sends you into a panic?
What did the police want? Were they going to arrest her? Lock Cinderella away for her own good?
SIL needed to know where Cinderella's therapy appointment was. The name of LCSW, her phone number, office location.
(How they did not know this is beyond me. She's only been LIVING WITH THEM since January!)
I ask to speak with the officer and provide him with all of the details need to track Cinderella down.
Then I call my friend, LCSW and then Prince Charming to fill them in.
What is she fucking stupid???
PrinceCharming's reaction is less about Cinderella's behavior and more about his own insecurities over how to parent from a distance while still recovering from Traumatic Brain Injury.
It doesn't not surprise me.
She's just looking for attention!
Yes. Yes she is. Of course she is.
I remind him of a night not that long ago when I received a suicidal text from him.
"Would you have liked it if I told you to knock it off and stop looking for attention?"
He got my point. In his silence I knew he was recalling my empathetic ear that night. How I talked him in from the proverbial ledge and helped him see things a little clearer.
Cinderella needed that same kind of empathy and guidance now.
We knew she was ok. 
She was doing what teens do best...complaining in an over-the-top melodramatic fashion to a friend.
Only this time her complaints triggered a domino effect that she could not have anticipated.
Out of concern, her friend reported her "threat" to a school guidance counselor, who in turn notified the school Psychologist who then contacted the local police.
Once again, valid or not, this is the reality we were given, and it was met with the only response that made sense.
LCSW contacted the state troopers as soon as Cinderella arrived for her appointment to assure them she was safe and sound, in one piece, and very much ALIVE.
Prince Charming hopped a train that night to head back up to his parents' house so he and Cinderella could figure out next steps.
Two days later, Cinderella was admitted into a psychiatric hospital.
Safe within the walls of this sanctuary, she would undergo intensive group and private therapies for two weeks. She would finally get that psych evaluation LCSW asked for two months prior and was prescribed Zoloft to ease her anxiety.
Her visitors were restricted. Based on her initial intake interviews, the hospital staff determined that her mother was 70% to blame for Cinderella's emotional stress, and that it would be in her best interest to not have any contact with Maleficent while undergoing treatment. Her father, myself and her grandparents were the only people allowed to call or visit.
The night before she was admitted and for close to a week following, PrinceCharming tried contacting Maleficent to let her know what was happening with their daughter. True to form, Maleficent refused to answer or return Prince Charming's calls. Instead, opting to call Cinderella's school daily to see if she was in attendance.
Ultimately, at my urging, PrinceCharming left the details of Cinderella's hospitalization in a voicemail.
I mean, why would he want to force a phone conversation with her anyway?
That weekend, Prince Charming and I visited Cinderella.
Together we let her know she has a support system in us. That we loved her and were proud of her bravery.
By the time she was discharged, Cinderella was stronger. She had begun to learn valuable tools on how to stand up to her mother and those around her.
She learned that her feelings matter. That she has a voice and it deserves to be heard.
She learned radical acceptance - that she can't change the behaviors of those around her, but that she can change her reactions to them.
A lesson that I learned along my own personal journey as her WickedStepmom.
Unlike me, she was learning these lessons much sooner.

And somewhere along the lines, in finding her voice, she's expressed her wishes to live with me once again.
Though, not to Maleficent...who is planning to try and get custody of her (yet again).

Cutting to the Chase (Part II)

(Continued from Part I)

The revelation of Cinderella's cutting behaviors was shocking to say the least.
At first I didn't want to believe it.
"Are you sure? I've never seen any evidence of it...how can this be?"
I was a SAHM for fuck's sake! How did I not see this?????
PrinceCharming's reaction was similar.
She's just looking for attention.
Maybe.
Maybe not.
Nevertheless it was out in the open now. To whatever extent she was doing it, she was now talking about it openly and asking for help.
This was the reality we were presented with, so this is what we had to respond to.
LCSW was reluctant to take her on as a client because she didn't have many "cutters" in her practice, but made an exception in our case.
Cinderella promised to commit herself to the therapy process and not to hurt herself.
PrinceCharming promised to get to her in for a Psych eval so she could be put on some meds to lessen her anxiety.
For two months, I dutifully took Cinderella to every appointment. She liked LCSW. She opened up to her and spoke honestly about her worries, her feelings towards her Mom and her experiences while living there, her grandparents... how she feels like a burden.
Unwanted & Unloved.
Daddy didn't want me.
Mommy couldn't handle me.
Now Grandma and Grandpa make me feel like a burden.
I don't know if it was because I was now aware that she was cutting, or because now that she admitted it she wasn't trying so hard to hide it from us, but Cinderella's scars and scabs suddenly became blatently obvious.
Red, angry lines across her forearms. Deep scabs on her knees and her thighs began appearing in greater numbers.
It was like her inner pain began to take on a life of its own and was forcefully trying to claw and scratch itself OUT from within the deep recesses of her psyche.
Her unhappiness was bubbling up to the surface. Feelings that she had been stuffing for so many years were being acknowledged, exposed and dealt with.
It overwhelmed her.
Then... I got the phone call.

Wicked, it's SIL...is Cinderella with you?

"No. But she's on her way to her therapy appointment."
My mother was having surgery that day, so I was unable to drive Cinderella to her weekly therapy appointment that week.  I asked a friend to take care of it for me.
SIL's voice is high-pitched and panicky.
Something was wrong.
Then, she tells me...

Well it's really important that I know where she is. Cinderella told a friend at school today that she wanted to kill herself. The state troopers are here looking for her.

It had been about an hour since my friend texted that he was on his way to pick Cinderella up.
An hour since I had any confirmation that this day would be like any other normal therapy day.

Cutting to the Chase

With Cinderella now living closer to home with my ex-inlaws (UN-laws, as the case may be), I'm better able to lend my support when needed.
And believe me, it's needed.
(After all these are the same people who raised Prince Charming and his siblings...and none of them escaped unscathed.)
My first priority was getting Cinderella back into therapy.
She had been seeing a lovely girl for over a year prior to her exile to Maleficent's. It helped.
But for one excuse reason or another, Cinderella's mother had not found a therapist to continue therapy while she was living with her and Diablo.
As soon as Cinderella was relocated back into our Kingdom, I broached the subject to Prince Charming with a sense of urgency.
After her recent disclosures of what she had to emotionally endure while living with Maleficent, and hearing her fears about turning our just like Mom, coupled with Prince Charming's accident, injuries AND our non-yet-final divorce... oh boy....
Prince Charming and I agreed it was needed, and after giving him ample time to take care of it himself I volunteered to make the calls.
Cinderella's prior therapist was about to go on maternity leave, so we chose option #2.
My co-worker, mentor and friend - LCSW. The same therapist that helped me navigate these past two years and reclaim my life and power.
Cinderella was comforted to know that LCSW was familiar with most of our fairytale and she was relieved to not have to re-tell her entire Tale of Woe to a stranger, and that she had many 15 year old clients.
It was instant *like*.
LCSW was cool (she texts her teen clients), older (like a mother) and most of all - alternative and holistic. She's quite in tuned with the 6th Sensory stuff that my kids all seem to be pre-disposed to.
With Prince Charming's approval I make the necessary arrangements, set up her first appointment and agree to handle the weekly transportation.
Twenty minutes in to her first appointment, LCSW emerges from her office, leaving Cinderella inside for a moment.
She audibly exhales. Rolls her eyes. And makes a pretend motion as if she wants to choke me.
Umm...
Wicked, this child needs to be hospitalized AND medicated. Do you know she's been cutting herself since 6th grade?


(to be continued...)

To Hell and Back Again

Throughout late 2010 and early 2011, Prince Charming had been battling depression and anxiety.
He became incapable of caring for anyone...especially himself. 
(Being unemployed for close to 8months, to a man who based his entire identity on his ability to support his family and be an Internet Superstar, served as a crushing blow to his fragile ego.) 
He struggled emotionally. I struggled financially.
Despite it all, our relationship improved and we were able to make co-parent decisions easily and without conflict.
We agreed that it'd be best if I assumed full custody of Hansel and Gretel in Spring 2011.
Cinderella spent many sleepovers at her Aunt's and Grandparent's both of whom lived within her school district and were able to lend some support while PrinceCharming struggled.
When summer came, PrinceCharming asked Cinderella to spend it with her mother so he could focus on getting better. She agreed to give it a try.
Cinderella was now close to an hour North of me.
PrinceCharming landed a job, at an internet startup.
He then retreated into the city. Close to an hour south of me.
Summer came and went, and Cinderella was then enrolled in High School and asked to stay with Maleficent for her Sophomore year.
PrinceCharming decided that moving Cinderella into the city with him would not be good as she would be left alone most of the time with him working those crazy startup hours.
The adjustment was difficult on everyone...especially our three children who were not only separated from their Dad, but now also each other.

Maleficent's "custody" of Cinderella lasted all of four months.
It was four months too long.
During her exile, Cinderella endured isolation in the form of denied visits to my home, was subjected to regular bouts of Maleficent's verbal diarrhea on the state of her victimization at the hands of PrinceCharming, and was repeatedly forced to choose between her parents only to be called a traitor when she showed her disdain for living with Maleficent and Diablo.
(Oh and toss in a little blackmail too, as in "if you choose to live with your father. we'll tell your baby brothers that you abandoned them and will make sure you never see them again.")
After his (near fatal) accident, it would be two weeks before Cinderella was allowed to visit PrinceCharming in the hospital.

When she was allowed to visit my home, Cinderella started asking questions about what really happened between her mother and father.
"What did Mom do to cause her to lose custody of me?" Was it bad? It must be bad because a judge doesn't just take custody from a parent without good reason. Was I in danger of being hurt? Is she schizophrenic or something?"
Oh boy.
I answered without answering. Left it up to her to decide.
"Babe, you're old enough to see and understand for yourself. You know what you've witnessed and experienced."
It wasn't my place to tell her the details.
But she already knows.
And she is afraid of suffering the same fate as her mother.
Worried that she, too, will at some point be diagnosed with a similar behavioral disorder.
"Mom lives in her own world, that is not based on reality," she tells me.
Wow. It's like she has her own copy of the DSM IV-R hidden in her back pocket!

When we could get a visit, Cinderella's weekends with us were always bittersweet.
My house was once again filled with the cacophony of giggles and screeches of hyperactive kids, happy to have their missing Musketeer back with them.
The dinner table became a hub of cross-talk as we each competed to get Cinderella's attention and bring her up to date on what happened since the last time we saw her.
Inevitably it would end in tears as Hansel and Gretel sobbed when she had to leave, while Cinderella silently stressed over returning to her mother's.
Her bliss at being reunited with us was always so short lived.
The drive back was particularly difficult for both of us because of the specific instructions that I would NOT drop Cinderella off in front of Maleficent's home. Rather, she was to be brought to a gas station around the corner.
You see, apparently... Maleficent's road was PRIVATE and I was not allowed on it. Must be nice to have that kind of POWER, no?

Talk about being treated like the red-headed stepchild! And you people call me Wicked. Pfft!

Ridiculous.
I know.
But I deferred to Cinderella who was so fearful of her mother's tirades that I did not want to do anything to make her stay there any worse.
So I acquiesced for my stepdaughter's sake.
This wasn't about me, it was about her sanity and me wanting to spare her from as much grief as I could.
 
Cinderella was rescued from her prison tower on January 1st of this year.
It was on the heels of her acting out, as only teens can do to get attention - drinking herself into oblivion with some friends from her self-described "ghetto school" just to make herself numb.
"I wanted to not feel," she told me.
PrinceCharming arranged for a holiday visit to get her away from the toxic environment at her mother's. He asked if Cinderella could spend New Year's weekend with me, since she wasn't allowed to spend Christmas with her Family of Choice.
With us, she could get some sense of normalcy, see Hansel and Gretel and be in a happy family environment.
It was during her weekend stay with me for New Year's that ultimately resulted in PrinceCharming realizing he had made a terrible mistake in sending Cinderella to live with her mother.
We learned of how deeply she was being traumatized on a daily basis.
That short visit ultimately turned into a two weeks respite at my home while PrinceCharming made arrangements to have her transferred to live with my ex-inlaws.
At least there, she would have more involvement with Hansel, Gretel and me.
At least there, PrinceCharming would be allowed to act like a father, inasmuch as he is able.
As least there, we can ALL keep a close eye on this troubled girl and help to regulate her erratic emotions.

And so began another adjustment for her.
And one that hasn't been very easy...

Hell Has Frozen Over

Cinderella is living with her BioMom.
After years of battling for - and WINNING - custody of Cinderella, PrinceCharming has relinquished physical custody to Maleficent.
Working start-up hours in NYC, while battling one's own emotional demons, is not conducive to raising a teen (who has her own emotional demons).
He says she understands his decision and is working on making the most of it.
I'm sure Cinderella is happy to be seeing more of her Mom, and her new baby brothers as well. (Maleficent has three other children ages two and under).
It's a double-edged sword and it sucks.
Living with her Dad, she missed seeing her siblings (with Maleficent).
Living with her BioMom, she misses her siblings (with her Dad and me).
This poor kid.

(This post was drafted 3 days before Prince Charming's accident. So many events have taken place since then resulting in another change of custody that now has her living with my ex-inlaws. So much to catch up on, Internetz!)

Sixth

Remember these?

Gretel, now 6, can see them.
In  her room. In my room. In the livingroom. When we're out driving. At school.
"Colors," she calls them. Mostly pink, green and blue. Sometimes white.
Once black. That one was in her room. She thought it was one of us sneaking in to scare her ... but it wasn't.
Half a circle, she said. By her door, as if it were peeking around the corner. About 3ft from the floor.
She's not scared.
Not yet.
I'm taking steps to empower her and make sure she is not frightened by this sixth sense that appears to be developing.

My Familiar

He's been with me since my very first apartment.
He's 16.
He's developed a tremor.
When I was a child, we lost a cat to some seizure-type event.
I sure hope I do not find myself in that familiar territory with my faithful companion.

Oh, hi

Writing has been on my mind.
But time has not been on my side these past four months.

First things first, PrinceCharming is recovering from his injuries. (Thank you for your posts, comments and well-wishes.) He has a long road ahead of him of cognitive rehabilitation - 5-7 years according to the "experts" - but he's on his way.  Physically, he is almost back to normal, but mentally he struggles with memory loss, inability to multi-task and confusion. Still, he's made enough progress to start earning a living again, albeit on a part-time basis.
He can't drive for at least 5 years, which means he's been relying on others to drive him around when he visits. His move to NYC back in the summer has turned out to be a blessing in disguise for it affords him some independence.
The kids aren't able to see him as much as they want, since he's not able to watch them, so we've been stealing moments when he is in the area.
They're adjusting but we're all secretly waiting for the time when PrinceCharming is well enough for them to spend the weekend with him again.
On the positive side, our relationship has gotten even stronger throughout all of this and for that I am oh so very grateful. While I miss having a co-parent, and wish I didn't have to go through the daily parenting struggles on my own, I am relieved for the lack of additional drama that having an EX sometimes brings.

Speaking of EX's...
The ex-BF has become a boarder/live-in nanny. It's like I'm living my own Who's The Boss Series, but in reverse!
He's been a huge help to me in so many ways - taking care of the day-to-day goings on in the house, while I get on with the task of earning a living and supporting myself and my kids (child support has taken a huge drop, obviously, due to the circumstances at hand).
We've had our challenges - boundaries have to be redrawn as we navigate through this relationship adjustment, but all-in-all it's been a VERY good thing.
Even more, the kids have a loving male figure around, someone who has stepped in during their Dad's absence.

And in regards to EX's of the other variety...
Maleficent may have lost Cinderella for good.
Following PrinceCharming's move to NYC last summer, Cinderella was asked if she could stay with her mother for a while... so he could, work stuff out.
Well, that didn't go very well and, really, we can't say we are surprised.
The reasons WHY are irrelevant and serve no purpose to rehash here. I will simply say that Maleficent made choices that resulted in PrinceCharming being given full custody of Cinderella six years ago, and her choices after being asked have her daughter stay with her resulted in a emergency change to the living arrangements in New Year's Day.
Cinderella stayed with me for 2 weeks while her Dad worked out the details of moving her OUT of her mother's house and transferring her to a NEW school. She is now happily settled in to her grandparents' home (my EX-in laws) and attending the same high school as her Dad and Aunts once did.
We are thrilled as she is now 10minutes from us and so we will be seeing more of one another.

My 2012 began with the blissful sounds of all three of my children in my home - the laughter, the thundering foot steps as they ran from room to room, was a pure joy. My big girl has grown into such a delightful young woman. Her poise and grace throughout all of the struggles with her mother, this recent one notwithstanding, caused me to beam with pride whenever I think or speak of her.
I am glad that I could be there for her during this latest ordeal, and tickled that PrinceCharming asked me for help. I loved coming home to her, and sitting around the dinner table together, and going to the movies and ...

In spite everything, we have all been blessed with unusual happiness these past few months.
And that, my dears, is the stuff Fairytales are made of.

How I Spent 9/11

The day after the last post on this blog, I was sitting in front of the TV like so many other Americans watching the 9/11 Memorial coverage at Ground Zero.
Like I do every year, I listened as the bells were rung to commemorate when each plane hit and as each tower fell.
I listened to the reading off of the names and cried when they reached the name of the loved one I'd lost ten years ago.
I honored those lost and those left behind by lighting two pillar candles in remembrance.
I turned off the TV and went about my morning with plans to take the kids to a local 9/11 Memorial which was close to a park.
I wanted to honor the day by going out and living the life I am so blessed to have.
It was 11am when my phone rang.
The caller ID said it was PrinceCharming. The voice on the other end, however, couldn't have been farther from his.
It was his sister. She was calling to tell me that my (not yet) ex-husband had been in a head on collision early that morning and was in the Trauma ICU at a local hospital.
He's going to be ok but he wanted me to call to tell you.
Sorry, but the letters "I-C-U" and "O-K" don't go together in my Dictionary.
I hung up the phone in a daze as my 9 and 5 year olds played blissfully unaware of the new 9/11 tragedy that may or may not be playing out in our lives.
My mind went blank.
What was I to do? What do I tell the kids?? What am I supposed to say??? How am I supposed to feel????
I was alone.
And in new territory.
I hadn't spoken with my SIL in close to two years and doubted I would get very many answers from her any time soon.
Knowing she suffers the same passive-agressive tendencies as her brother, I called in reinforcements and notified every one of PrinceCharming's and my mutual friends. I needed to know the truth of what had happened to my childrens' father and I needed to know it N-O-W.
As I struggled to remain calm in front of our kids, I texted and snuck phone calls to relay what little information I had.
We're on our way and will call you from the hospital.
Our friends descended upon Trauma ICU en masse and over the course of the next several weeks proved invaluable to my sanity.
For the two days following I was with my (not yet) ex-husband at his bedside while our kids were at school, needing to see for myself the extent of his injuries and whether or not he truly would be OK.
He was intubated, yet conscious.
He couldn't speak but his body language communicated VOLUMES that only I could understand. I relayed instructions to those who were taking charge of his care (a job that once belonged to me), so they could do their best to make sure he was comfortable.
I held PrinceCharming's hand and reassured him the kids were ok and would be ok.
I looked into his eyes and he squeezed my hand in acknowledgement and thanks.

(Of course, I was referring to Hansel and Gretel whom I had control over what and how the information would be disseminated. Cinderella, OTOH, was at my SILs house when the accident occurred and was told moments before her BioMom came to pick her up. This was not what PrinceCharming wanted.)

(Cinderella had started the school year at her mother's, not by choice, but due to PrinceCharming's struggles with his depression and trying to balance a new job at an internet start-up. She has been allowed to see her father TWICE in the past six weeks, despite many attempts by me to make this situation right. This past weekend I succeeded, with his help, and was able to bring all of our kids to him for a visit.)

These past six weeks have consisted of MRIs, CT Scans, X-Rays, ER visits and long stints in two hospitals.
My (not yet) ex-husband is lucky to be alive.
He's been up against numerous broken and shattered bones paired with traumatic brain injury resulting in memory loss.
Compound all of that with post-traumatic stress no doubt added to his pre-existing anxiety and depression.
The lines of reality and perceived reality as a result of this emotional dysregulation are blurry at best.

I'm in unfamiliar yet all-too-familiar territory at the same time.
Once primary care-giver now bystander.
I'm faced with the challenge of knowing his flair for melodrama, penchant for providing minimum information for maximum impact and isolationism, while being empathetic to his situation and the indisputable injuries he has suffered.
Having to step back without walking away is difficult.
Prince Charmng has a long road of rehabilitation ahead of him.
It seems, I do too.

What I Also Did on My Summer Vacation

I. Met. Bigbird!

Oh yeah, Gretel did too.



What I Did On My Summer Vacation

The end of August, I took the kids on a week-long vacation with my Dad and Stepmom. This was a trip I NEVER thought would happen, for a variety of reasons, the least of which came down to (lack of) money.
But opportunity knocked. Just at the point in my summer when I was about to surrender and accept that there would be NO vacation - rather a STAYcation - my Dad offered the kids and I an all-expense-paid trip to a destination of my choice. The only caveat was that it had to be a place within driving distance so all I needed to worry about, was gas and tolls. Thanks, Dad!
I chose Colonial Williamsburg. A place my Dad had taken me years ago, which held so many happy memories for me, I wanted my kids to have those same memories with their Grandfather. This would be their first vacation with Grandpop, and it was especially important to make this trip knowing he and my Stepmom are moving from NJ to Arizona in just two-weeks time.
With the location chosen, our time-share was booked! A spacious three-bedroom condo from Wyndham Vacation Resorts with all the bells and whistles.
Tickets were purchased! Passes to Colonial Willamsburg, Busch Gardens and WaterCountry USA.
My coin jar was cashed in to pay for gas and tolls. My car inspected and given a once over.
All ready!
Queue: PANIC!
Eight hour drive. Two kids. Thirteen year old car. No working radio. No DVD player.
HOLY CRAP.
What am I doing? How am I going to keep them entertained for so long??How am I going to handle them by myself in an amusement park?? What if the car breaks down???
In that moment of panic and weakness, I asked the ex-boyfriend to come along. Not because I wanted him to, but because I thought I needed him to.
I was being faced with another inner conflict between the Me that is growing vs. the Me that wants to stay stuck in the past. At that moment, I lacked the confidence in my ability to handle the driving, the kids, the rides and whatever else came along. Self-doubt crept in once again.
And... as I was asking my ex-boyfriend to join us, every cell in my body was crying out NOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I spent the weeks leading up to my vacation worrying and fretting over the potential consequences to this decision. Ambivalence mixed with dread over what was supposed to be a fun trip with my children.
See, the ex-boyfriend and I have been on-again/off-again many times over the past two years. Each time we'd break up for the same reasons (mainly my desire to be independent and single) only to get back together for the same reasons (mainly my co-dependence and fear).
But this break-up felt different to me and I worried he would get the wrong impression, develop unrealistic expectations based on how things always went before, and that my vacation would be ruined if things didn't go as he hoped.
(I know I've created this sceanrio by my lack on conviction in the past. By my own indecisiveness and not trusting myself enough to step fully into my independence. I kept standing in my own way of personal growth, and asking him to come along was another shining example of that.)
He promised me there were no strings attached, that he understood my feelings had truly changed and that we would have a nice trip.
I trusted in that (though I had my doubts), and decided to go.
True to his nature, the ex-BF helped prepare for the trip by cleaning and packing my car, changing the oil and driving it to be inspected while I was at work. He mowed my lawn before we left. He did all of the driving to VA. He helped take care of the kids by going on all the crazy rollercoasters Hansel wanted to go on and indulging Gretel's every request to be carried, coddled and cuddled. He greeted my with a cup of coffee every morning when I woke up, cooked breakfast one morning for all six of us, helped with our laundry while there, ran errands and overall looked after everyone's emotional well-being.
Wow. Right?
The entire week I watched and realized how abundant my life is. How blessed I am to be surrounded by such generosity - from my Dad who made this vacation possible to my ex-boyfriend who wanted to do nothing more than take care of me and the kids.
I watched as this sweet man doted on us and wondered - why isn't it enough?
The days before my trip, my boss told me how good she thought he was for me. My therapist/friend asked if maybe he wasn't the one afterall. But then I realized that my boss is the same woman who, herself, is stuck in a co-dependent relationship. And who thinks my ex-husband should be made to pay for everything (child support + child care + camp + vacations + medical)because "what happens when you don't have the money to help pay for them?" Yeah, her opinion is a little clouded. And my therapist/friend is doing her job; asking me all the right questions to prompt me to do my own soul searching to make sure I know what I want.
That's precisely what I did. And for whatever reason, all of that is not enough. And as much as I tried to convince myself during our vacation and for the week after that he stayed at my house; making the effort to see, appreciate (and want) what I could have in him, I did not feel the desire to reconcile. Not this time.
Instead, my attention and desires are being pulled in another direction.
This time, I'm getting out of my own way, and taking that next step.

Clarity

These past two weeks have brought with them amazing clarity as to where my life has been, and where it's going.

This past Saturday, my family vacation trip with the kids and ex-BF officially came to an end. After two weeks (which was supposed to be one week but was unexpectedly extended for a week thanks to Hurricane Irene and my lack of babysitting resources), I dropped off the kids with their Dad, returned my ex-BF/vacation companion- turned-houseguest home, then spent the day ALONE...reflecting and recharging. I responded to the powerful call of nature and chose to go to a local lake preserve in search of a rumored waterfall. I have never been there, even though I spent half of my time for nearly a year just 10 minutes from it.
First I stopped in a local hippie town, did a little shopping in a tie-dye boutique, and picked up an appropo lunch (falafel sandwich). I plugged my desitination into my GPS and as I followed the windy mountain road, I found one entrance to the preserve was closed due to hurricane. The other was FULL.
I then realized I had no cash for parking nor was I dressed for hiking (croc sandals do not count as adequate hiking shoes!).
I adapted my plan and pulled onto a scenic overlook, climbed over the guard rail and sat meditating on one of three rocks, looking out over rural farms of the Hudson Valley, NY ... surrounded by grasshoppers, butterflies and three hawks who continuously circled overhead.

~ Grasshoppers=good luck and abundance.
~ Butterflies symbolize transformation.
~ Three is the number of creation.
~ Hawks are messengers, bringing clarity and healing.


I was reminded that day that the future I have been working so hard to create is becoming a reality with each passing day, with each step, every risk and every decision.
It may sometimes be hazy (as was my view from the mountainside that day), but I know its there.

My life (and myself) has gone through termendous tranformation over these past 2 years.
I'm no longer where I was, I may not where I'm going...but I am on my way.

(Oh yeah, and I will be returning to that lake preserve to find that waterfall!)