A Nasty “Pornographic” Post

So here’s one for you. A nasty pornographic post by nasty-gram Grandma.

So last week I took my daughter and her two adorable but somewhat whiney kids to the airport. We stayed at a very nice hotel by LAX. It was the Marriott Residence Inn. It was there that my very pornographic thought began to take shape and a few days later it morphed into something quite disturbing. By then the grandkids had been gone for four days and it felt “safe” and not so unseemly to be having thoughts that consisted of anything less that coloring books, reading fairy tales and giving my arms a workout by pushing the little squirts high into the sky as they chorused “Higher, Grandma” at the local playground. Seems I needed a little down time from Doc McStuffins to get my mind back in the gutter.

It was at the check-in at said hotel that I first noticed Wally. He was one of those slick and shiny kind of dudes. You know, the kind who you pay just a little bit of attention to and he is at your beck and call for life. The kind your mother always warned you about, yet, I couldn’t help myself… I found him fascinating at first glance. We got to “talking” which was a little difficult because of his accent but his manners were impeccable and he was easy to talk with…straightforward while saying all the right “feel good” words. I fantasized inviting him to my room but unfortunately I was not alone. I had my daughter and the grandkids sharing my room. And so I reluctantly bid him goodbye knowing that had the circumstances been different I might have taken him out for a little test drive. Frankly, I have rarely felt that kind of electrical current with anyone and never with someone like him before.

I went downstairs a little while later with my granddaughter just to see if I could get a glimpse of him. Sure enough, he was standing by the elevator. While perfectly polite he seemed a little nervous around “the little one” acting like he was afraid she might just push his buttons. I didn’t know what to make of it. That and the fact, he kept waiting for the elevator and if anyone came to use it he wouldn’t get on and would wait for another. Strange. I began to doubt my initial impression. Maybe it was my punishment for being a little too friendly with Wally when I am, in fact, still married to B. Come to think of it, it did feel kind of like cheating but he was so cute and the flirting was harmless. Frankly, what is good for the goose is good for the gander and B would never know any better. I began to fantasize about letting Wally park his boots under my bed for a night of fun.

“This is how affairs begin! Shame…shame…shame,”  giving my conscious a bit of a flogging while saying ten “Hail Marys” for good measure. Sure it seems all sweet and innocent now, I reminded myself, but we know how these things go…broken hearts and tears. Buckets of them. Families ripped apart by lust. It just wasn’t worth it. But still….

Fast forward two hours and I was parched. I decided to call down and order room service. After I placed my order I heard some background noise and the clerk replied, “Wally will be bringing your order up shortly.”

Wally! My Wally? Oh crap I thought. How am I going to explain this to my daughter. I was mortified. I tried to get her to take the kids down to the pool but she wouldn’t. I offered her $50 bucks to take the kids to dinner but she wasn’t biting.

“Geez, mom. Are you trying to get rid of us?” she said with a laugh.

If she only knew.

Ten minutes later the phone rang and Wally told me he was outside of my door with my order. I suddenly felt weak at the knees and a little faint yet my body began to feel slightly tingly all over. Wally wanted me! I mean, what sort of creature did this sort of thing? It was something straight out of a Hollywood Movie.

So after a slight hesitation, I opened the door, and there he was in all his glory.

“I have your order, Madame”

I wanted to die right then and there.

“Who is it, Mom.?”

“It’s Wally the Butler”

” I didn’t know this place had butlers,” she called out from her bedroom suite.

“Yeah, its a new feature,” I replied nervously as I grinned at the man of my dreams.

I reached for my order and as I did my arm brushed against him. Suddenly I felt him go cold as he turned to me and said:

And just like that he was gone.

It’s been a week since I last saw Wally and my heart aches. The things he could have done for me (that’s where things get a little x-rated). The things I could have programed him to do!

“That’s right, Wally, a little more to the left. Ohhhhhhhh….yes. Right there. That is perfect.”

Yep, welcome to the 21st Century, Grandma! If this is what the future holds then I am all in!

A Sad Day In America

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No matter who wins today… it is a sad day in America. It’s a day in which our citizens were forced to pick between two bad actors. A day in which our differences are magnified and our tolerance reduced to rubble. It’s a day everyone wishes had happened months ago so we would have been spared an election in which ugliness triumphed over decency and the worst in bad behavior was seen by our young.

When I was a kid growing up, I was excited about the possibility of someday having the privilege and honor of voting for president. It was taught that it was my duty to vote and I felt lucky to be able to exercise my right to determine which way I wanted our country to go. No more. Today as a fifty-five-year-old, I feel defeated and pessimistic by this system I once felt so comfortable in.Even worse, I feel scared and vulnerable that this experiment in Democracy is failing before my eyes and there are few alternatives available to replace it with.

These days, I no longer believe that my single vote can make a difference in which direction our country moves. And if I, an indoctrinated child of the 60’s can feel this way, why would any young adult, who now sees the world through the eyes of social media, believe that their vote would make a difference? In these days of declining voter participation in the electoral process, how can we expect our children to want to vote, much less hold the process sacred, when they hear so many people dissatisfied with the candidates and the deadlock we have been enduring? Why would they want to participate in any election when they have been told that it has been rigged? Why would they have faith in the system when so many of their elders no longer do?

Today, when I went to vote, I realized I was stooped over like an old lady, the weight of this election bearing down on my body, crushing my spirit and soul. Instead of being joyful I felt sorrow that our country had come to this…so many words without substance, so many promises that will never be fulfilled and so much hatred that neighbor has turned against neighbor. And I wonder whatever happened to the enthusiasm I once felt and I question if I can ever get it back?

Yes, today is a sad day because the possibility of new beginnings and the excitement about exercising our right to vote has vanished; replaced instead by an obligation to vote for the lesser of two evils. This election and these two candidates have brought this country to new lows we never should have reached and today I wonder if it is even possible to dig us out of the hole we find ourselves in. The promise of America has been compromised and it is a sad day indeed.

B’s List Of What He Wants

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Yesterday I posted what I wanted/needed in my second half of life. Today I am posting B’s.

First of all, just so you know, I asked B if it was okay to post this. To my surprise he said yes. This is his list of what he wants in the second part of his life with me. It won’t come as a surprise to those who know us that his list is very different than mine. Much more compact. Remember, I’m the one with the words. Yet, what he wrote touched me deeply because I knew it was from his heart and soul. All of it.

The morning we were to go to breakfast to discuss our relationship; I got into the car and our wedding picture was there along with some flowers. B said that before we went to breakfast he wanted to read what he had written and so with tears in his eyes and a catch in his throat this is what he read:

“Perfect” Words

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I have been working hard to use the “perfect” words and phrases in my everyday interactions in order to minimize conflict and optimize understanding. Our therapists say to try to increase our usage of them everyday. Here they are:

  1. I love it when______
  2. Help me understand
  3. What would make it easier for you?
  4. I just got triggered and I feel ______
  5. Can I have a re-do? (Meaning you screwed up and would like to try again)
  6. I am not comfortable with______. Perhaps we can try ______ instead. How do you feel about that?
  7. I have a concern about_____
  8. I heard you say _____ and I am wondering what you mean by that.
  9. I am trying to understand please tell me more.

 

I have to say some of them work better than others. It seems like the “I like it when…” phrase often brings about the desired results and by saying “What would make it easier for you?” I get to know exactly what would be the most beneficial thing I could for B at that moment in time.

Last night I tried the “I have a concern about…” and it bombed…BIG TIME. Not only did  I feel like my words had exploded in my face and I had been cut by shrapnel; I ended up feeling like a fire work that just wanted to explode…light the fuse…I dare you. Let me explain.

The kids started school two weeks ago and it has been absolute chaos. Between each kid being at a different school,  two carpools, and one kid also taking a college class in addition to normal high school work; the hectic threshold has increased 20 fold in his house. Already I have gotten two phone calls and two emails from Andre’s school, one from Gracie’s and have had to contact Paul’s school three times for various things in addition to talking to the counselor. Add to that book marking each kids classes(12 total) so we can check on homework every night finding/loading emails for teachers and two IEP teams…well let’s just say that it has been a challenge.

So last night when I got home late after being voted in as secretary of a school organization (more about that some other time) I found B watching the Olympics which then proceeded to his playing of the bagpipes. Meanwhile, I went upstairs to ensure that Andre was doing his homework and spent 30 minutes going through all his class websites with him after getting a call from school earlier in the day. I spent another 20 minutes re-organizing his notebooks for what I hope is greater understanding of where papers/homework are and where handouts should go. I did the same  last night with Paul who seems to not be getting any homework… hmmm. Had to check on that too.

As I climbed into bed, after thinking long and hard about how I wanted to approach the issue, I said to B:

“I have a concern about ______ (“using “perfect” word phrase) how we are going to get the boys through school this year.(Two boys who have autism and face many challenges when in school) So far I have received several emails and phone calls from the schools and since the boys are both in high school now, where even more is expected of them; I think we need to come up with a plan on how we are going to handle this because I can’t do it all. If you have any ideas about this I would be glad to hear them. This is what I was thinking. I was thinking that perhaps I could be responsible for Andre and checking his classes and that you could do the same for Paul. If there was math homework that help was needed on you could do that (I don’t do math) and English would be my responsibility. What do you think? Or do you have something else in mind?”

“I work from 7 am to 6 pm. I can’t do it.”

CANCEL CANCEL CANCEL  (To find out what this means ) Read Sitting In the Silence

“Well, honey, I work too. I drive two carpools, answer calls and emails from the school, pay bills, clean house. I work too. I’m sorry, you don’t get to just hang up all the responsibilities of this household when you walk in the door.”

And so it went.

Later I told him, “You know I worked very hard thinking about how to say what needed to be said in a way that was non-confrontational using the words/phrases our therapists taught us and I feel like you just shot me down. I am very disappointed about how this went.”

“You are entitled to your feelings. Feelings are neither right nor wrong,” which is B’s new catch phrase.

Yeah, well, buddy… my feelings are now ones of being pissed and angry at your feelings of entitlement and your lack of sensitivity that I am trying my best to have a calm discussion with you to get what we both want/need for our boys. I am also thinking that if we had divorced you would be getting half of these calls, doing half these carpools and that you would need to hire and pay for wife that you now have for free. An expensive proposition to say the least. Frankly, I would like to kick you in the ass for being such a blockhead.

And so I went downstairs and listened to THREE meditation podcasts in an effort to bring myself back down to earth and re-locate my place of serenity. Afterwards, as I reflected on the day I wondered it there really is such a thing as “perfect words.”

I guess the answer is no…but I will keep trying to use them anyway.

And now I will:

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Change Is Going To Do You Good

So, you might have noticed that I changed the name of my blog. Or maybe not. But I did.

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Why?

Well, when I started writing it was right after my husband said that he might want a divorce.  My state of mind was such that I named my blog myhusbandwantsadivorce. It has been 375 days since that morning and after much hard work, tears and counseling; I believe we love each other enough to stay together. We are not out of the woods totally but at least we are holding the picnic basket as we walk towards the edge of the forest together.

Since this past year has been so painful and because we have worked so hard to reclaim our marriage and each other; I have decided I no longer want to be reminded of that day every time I write my blog. I no longer want a “possible” divorce to define who I am or how my husband is thinking. I want to stop all aspects of negativity towards my husband and my marriage; hence the name change.

To celebrate my writing in a playful way I am in the process of changing the name of the blog to Gardy Loo Pismire.  The words gardy loo were shouted in Edinburgh as a warning cry when slops were thrown from the windows into the streets. Pismire is basically a piss ant.  I guess you might say that I am letting readers know “The S*** Is Coming…Watch Out Below!”

At this point I am leaving the myhusbandwantsadivorce up for a month or so and adding Gardy Loo Pismire to the front. It currently looks like this: Gardy Loo Pismire formerly myhusbandwantsadivorce. Soon it will look like this:277e28d379ac17bdb47bfe96061fb1f5

Gardy Loo Pismire…Watch Out Below!

So there you have it.The blog will remain the same except for the name.

Thanks For Reading!

 

 

What Love Requires

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There are times throughout my life that I have forgotten just how fragile love is. And as I look back upon this painful “possible divorce” I have to ask myself the question…did you forget this fact? And in turn, I realize that I must have for it to have gotten to this point. Obviously, our relationship has not had enough of the right kind of soil (genuine caring,spending happy times together), not enough water (kind words, kind deeds) and not enough sunshine (joy, laughter) or else it would have flourished and not died. While it would be easy to write about B’s failings in this area because of the place I am at in our relationship; the fact is that I MUST look at my own culpability in order to go forward either in this relationship or to be at peace with myself. So these are some of the things I have been considering lately in regards to our relationship and my part in its possible demise.

Love requires attention. Lots of it. With all the chaos in our lives and the fact that B and I enjoy different things did I forget the attention that love needs to blossom and grow rather than wither and die? Those golden moments of laughter, a slight touch or a kind voice. Did my missing the bagpiping weekends make B think I didn’t care because I wasn’t showing the kind of attention to something he cared deeply about? Was the chaos of two boys with autism taking over my life making me exhausted and leaving my husband behind?

Love requires trust. I struggle with trust. Always have probably always will but did my lack of trust make me see things that sometimes aren’t there but I acted as if they were? Did it make me question instead of believe? How have my own personal issues that have nothing to do with B contributed to this lack of trust? Have I forgotten how to trust B with my heart and have I stopped believing that he cares what is in it? Have I stopped believing that what he shares with me is the truth because since he hardly ever speaks out, so I then question why when he does?

Love requires honesty. Sometimes I think I am too honest for B. Sometimes I think honesty when it is sharing more bad feelings when good is hurtful and discouraging. I may be guilty of that. Is there such a thing as too much honesty? If I am asking the question then perhaps I already know the answer.

Love requires sacrifice. If I look back on our 30+ years of marriage I believe I did sacrifice certain things BUT the real question is did I sacrifice gladly, willingly and without guilt? That question may be harder to answer honestly because I can think of many times I did not. And did I sacrifice quietly? Did I sacrifice in a manner that B thought better of me as a person or in ways that warmed his heart?

Love requires acceptance. Have I accepted all that has come my way? Have I accepted B’s inability to stand up to his family knowing that there are other qualities that make up for that inability that he has? Have I accepted my sons disabilities in a way that makes love easy for them and everyone else in the family? Have I accepted what B has had to say without always having to have my opinion heard? Have I just listened and accepted upon occasion without making him have to justify his wants or needs?

Love requires courage. Early in our marriage when B would get upset I would say to him “Okay well I will just leave” It is a horrible thing to do to anyone all because I did not not have the courage to sit, listen and look at my own flaws. It takes courage to be married and courage to stay when you want to leave. I lacked courage which I think leads to disillusionment and distrust.

Love requires persistence. That means being willing to look at the areas in your marriage that need work and then take the steps to correct them. This may take weeks, months or even years. Often, over the course of our relationship I have recognized things that I could do to improve things (like not yell so much) yet I did not keep up with the follow-through that was needed to get these things to become good habits. I didn’t have the time. I didn’t have the patience. I didn’t have the desire and because of this lack of persistence it has contributed to our relationship floundering.

Love requires change. As our relationships mature and as times passes changes occur. As my relationship with B has hit this rocky road, I look back and see with regret those things I needed to change but did not. We are not meant to be stationary beings and relationships are suppose to be fluid too. I think that I have fought change at times and our relationship has suffered for it and my own growth has suffered too. Reluctance to change in my case has come from focusing too much on the pain on has to endure to make change come about or focusing on what I would have to give up rather than on what I would have to gain if I would just change.

As we have gone through this difficult time in our marriage sometimes I look back with regret because I know that I had forgotten how fragile love is without the proper nurturing and care. Marriage is like a delicate rose and it needs attention if it is to survive. I wish I had spent more time pruning, watering and ensuring plenty of light reached its leaves. Perhaps adding a little less crap would have helped too.

Copyright CLD 4/3/16

Christmas This Year..Think Heifer International

Yeah, I know, this post is going to sound like one of those poor-oh-so-whiny and  spoiled American blogs and today that is what is truly is. I know. I get it. But today I will put myself out there and hang my head in shame if it gets just one of you over to the Heifer site to make a donation to this worthwhile organization. Thanks.

Christmas has become a fiasco in this house. Every year the pile of presents seems to get bigger while the actual needs get smaller. The holiday had become grand that no one can remember exactly what they received because there was just too much to process and catalog at one time.

I confess this is all my fault. Unlike my ex-brother-in-law who takes his kids shopping for a new toy every Friday (ugh); I am one of those parents who rarely buys something for my kids unless it is their birthday or Christmas. The rest of the year…forget it.  Yet, I have discovered that this parenting philosophy of mine also works to my disadvantage because I guilt myself into believing I have to make up for all those “NO’S” during the rest of the year and so at Christmas I am like Santa on steroids…disgusting…especially when there are so many children in the world just wanting to have a meal to fill their empty stomachs. Over the years my travels have pressed into my psyche the enormous needs throughout the world and in this country too.Buying toys or providing food…the seriousness of this weighs heavily on my mind during the holiday season and throughout the year. Really a child going hungry should not be happening anywhere in this day and age. But it does all too often and we all suffer because of it because who is to say what that child could have grown up to achieve? Perhaps they would have been the one to provide the missing “ingredient” to make sustainable cold fusion a reality? Or maybe they would have become a person who promotes unity and healing throughout the world? Maybe someone like Gandhi? Or maybe they would have practiced the art of a local healer whose ability to diagnose keeps her community alive? So much potential talent snuffed out and wasted due to weather, politics, poor infrastructure, greedy middlemen or assholes who intentionally starve their citizens while their pockets and bellies grow fat.

While I cannot change all the problems in the world I can change them in my little corner. So after much decision and debate this year we are trying something new. Each child will get four presents; one in each category: SOMETHING I WANT; SOMETHING I NEED, SOMETHING TO WEAR and SOMETHING TO READ. They will also pick out a animal to donate through Heifer International to a family whose life will be changed because they now have a way to sustain themselves and make money as their animals procreate and grow. And if you are interested you can contribute too. Visit Heifer International and learn more about this worthwhile charity. Or do something for your neighbors in need. Whatever we each do we will be making the change that we all want to see and that is the best gift we can give ourselves in a world gone mad.

http://www.heifer.org/

 

Renovation

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As the months have gone by I have come to realize that a “maybe divorce” is analogous to the dismantling of a house. Most “maybe divorces” appear to me to work in this way:

1.You take down the house slowly brick-by-brick until you reach the foundation and realize that no amount of structural engineering can save it. You then buy two very civilized but individual abodes one stuffed with everything from the marriage and the other devoid of all that it stood for.

2. You blow up the entire structure leaving a giant gaping smoldering hole in the ground with both parties going their separate ways clutching whatever they could find in the ruins. Little is wanted or salvageable.

3. Or you renovate over time; adding on a little here or taking way something there, until something new materializes that you recreated together.

Our “maybe divorce” appears to be going the renovation route which is in some ways not surprising. After all, we have built two houses and a winery during our time together. Our shared history includes a hand-dug out basement using just shovels, our bare hands and a wheelbarrow crafted just like smugglers tunneling underneath the US boarder.We are good at sawing, hammering, planting and building huge retaining walls to hold back all the dirt. We excel at seeing one thing and turning it into another. Our life together has been one big “honey-do” list. And then, just as a project came to fruition, we would always move for the sake of B’s career. All the time and effort down the drain but at the same time offering a chance to start over and reinvent our lives.

Today we live in a tract home. It’s identical to so many others on our street. Nothing outside gives an impression of who lives under the eaves. Being architecturally unique is no longer part of who we are and I miss that. Our renovation seems anti-climatic as we chip away at the old broken tile that covers the surface of our lives and pull up the carpet hoping against hope that there is an undiscovered wood floor residing beneath. And while we find some cool relics from the past as we dig around, the treasure we seek seems to be so well hidden that sometimes it seems as if we may never find it despite our best intentions.

Of course, all this renovation comes with a price. The foundation we once thought stable needs shoring up. We fight among ourselves over what we keep and what we let go. The professional “fixers”charge by the hour and cost overruns are the norm. Load bearing walls stay high while other less-necessary walls come down only to go up in some different form again. And the construction dust/debris covers every surface of our lives as we work within the confines of the boundaries of the house to create something that has a better flow. And so it goes.

Yet, recently it came to my attention that with all the care we are putting into our new creation we did forget one tiny but important detail.  We forgot to ask the real question…the most important one…is this the right house in the right location in first place?

I suspect only time and the heart will tell.

 

 

 

Hatred Is Not The Answer-Terrorists

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I’ve been to Paris three times during my life. The first was almost thirty years ago during our honeymoon, the second time was about five years later and recently we went two summers ago. Like most major cities, I have tended to avoid Paris because there are just too many people in too small of a place. I feel the same way about London, Beijing and New York. So when I frequent these places, I am already on edge. But usually then I meet people who have stories to tell, tears to fall and a love of life that is extraordinary and somehow these big cities become almost magical because I am reminded just how similar we all are in our shared dreams and in our desires.

The last time we were in Paris we were traveling with our children. Around the corner from our hotel was a bank of small restaurants and sandwich-to-go types of places. We entered one of the latter. It was a small place and behind the counter were three men who appeared to be of Middle Eastern descent and spoke Arabic to one another. When they heard us talking with our distinctive American accents immediately their faces hardened. Then when I went to order for our family all of a sudden the place was CLOSED. They were no longer serving they told us. Yet, after we walked outside all of a sudden they were serving again to the lady who ordered a tomato baguette. So I went back in to order only to be told again that they were not open even though there were more new customers being helped. I was mad and sad about the situation but what was worse is that my children were witnessing this and wondered why they would not let us buy their food. And so I told them this:

“For some reason these men do not like us. I do not know why and neither do you. If I had to guess I would say that they were probably hurt or their relatives were probably hurt in some way by American policies or forces. They are probably still upset or angry by this. Of course, we will never know the real reason and I am guessing only to try to understand why someone would hate us even though we have never ourselves done anything to them. So this is why we cannot hate because hatred begets hatred. Anger creates more anger and people do things to one another that they should not. So I want you remember today not because of what happened but because of how we will handle it. For if we let it, the small thing they did to us will someday make us think that we can do something to someone we think has wronged us. But what is most important here is that we must remember that our lives as human beings are linked together in so many mysterious and interesting ways to people we know and people we don’t. If we allow this link of distrust and anger into the chain of humanity that we carry with us it will only create sorrow both for us and others that we will unintentionally effect by this hostility. So we must smile at those men and show them that we see their humanity even though they do not see ours.”

And so we did.

I wish I could say something changed and one of the men smiled back but that did not happen.

Tonight as I sat and watched the news pouring out of the City Of Lights I was dismayed as I listened to the political pundits demanding retribution, retaliation and encouraging a decrease in our hard fought freedoms (as if that will make things safer!) so the world will be a “better place” and I wished that they had been with us that day in Paris. For while the experience of being hated just because of where you come from was a bitter disappointment; I also know that my children learned a valuable lesson on that street in Paris that day. They realized that hatred is not the answer. I hope that calm heads will prevail in Paris and that human beings throughout the world will remember this truth too as they struggle to find a way through the carnage that they have seen and endured.