What's that saying?

You know! the one about the boys leaving town and the girls having fun. I'm too tired to remember it. I was all fired up to spend the night watching movies and drinking a glass of wine (ok...maybe two) and now I'm exhausted. Ali passed out at 6:45 and only woke up once, but was obviously still tired. So now I'm almost having to force myself to stay awake. I'm so silly.

I just feel like I have this time to myself and I should either be doing something productive or I should be doing something totally unproductive and sleeping kind of fits into both of those categories (although I still don't think it's what I should be doing). Now I'm just getting loopy. ugh...too tired to type.

Joe is in Pittsburgh. Ali's in bed. I'm in la la land. I think I'll go join ali.

night...

I give up...sleep is no longer my friend

So I guess it doesn't matter if there is a baby here or not, because it's 1 AM and I'm awake again. I think I may be turning into my best friend. I'm up in the middle of the night and I'm dredging the internet to see if Nick Lachey and Jessica Simpson are going to make it. It's amazing how much attention can be paid to two people's marriage. It's awful....and I'm so hooked. Just kidding...although I find the entire spectacle sad and awful for them. The media is so disgusting - doing their job means pushing the envelope so far and twisting the words just enough so that what you read is not exactly what you interpret. They are word wizards. And we're just stupid trolls. (by the way - I think they're split up)

After having a few days of living my normal life I have been able to relax and understand what I've been feeling. There was so much that I couldn't even think about what was really happening in my home. I was terrified that making the decision to give Layne back would be wrong and I would regret it forever. I'm so glad that WE were strong enough to go through with it. Not for Layne's sake, but for ours. For Alison's. And Layne didn't really need to be with us. He needs to be with his mom, whether she's a good parent or not. She's his mom and they need to learn from each other. And I sure as hell don't need to deal with her family, which is what was happening when he was in our custody. Yucky. Even communicating with my own family was getting mucky. But this was like walking through hot tar. uncomfortable, sticky and stinky.

Of course now it means that Zack is unprotected. Ashley isn't living with him anymore and I no longer am protecting his son, so he appears to feel exposed and vulnerable, which in his current addictive state are two very bad things to be feeling. I hope he makes it through this and starts to use his head. I don't know if he can though. There's a very very good chance that his head is no longer his own and it's purely owned by the drugs and alcohol. I'm not going to hold my breath!

Instead I'm going to go to a wedding in Hawaii!!!!! YAY!!!! My friend Kirsten Bjore is getting married on Maui! I'm so excited! We're going to have the greatest time. We're staying in Maalaea Bay with my best friend Niki. I'm so excited I can't stand it.

And I think I'm officially falling asleep. YYYAAAAWWWWWNNNNN....

More later?

Layne isn't here anymore

We finally had to make a decision for our family's well being today. We called the State and asked that Layne be placed in other foster care. It has been a very very difficult decision and has been thought about for weeks. There are a number of reasons why we had to do what we did. I don't want to go into them right now, but maybe one day I will elaborate.

We are very very sad to see him. I cried like a baby more than once. Especially since it was all so sudden. We decided to do it today and it just happened. Within three hours they had him placed. I was not prepared for that. But it's whats best for Ali, Joe and I.

I apologized to Zac and Ashley and told them I would do what I could to help them out. They weren't happy with the change, but they didn't seem angry about it either. Zac said he understood. I hope that part of this change means they will get more access to him.

I just want to thank everyone again for all of the support, well wishes, clothes, toys, BABYSITTING, and hugs. We could not have made it this far without such an amazing support network of friends and family and we hope that we can continue to be a positive part of Layne's life. We are forever grateful to your generosity!

Why 1 AM?

Why would I choose to be awake at 1 AM when I am so obviously exhausted? Probably because it's the only time I get to myself. The only time I'm almost positive that I won't be bothered. Everyone is full, happy and totally asleep. I get to shop for things I don't need online and write in my blog. and everything is so so quiet.

I can't believe we're leaving for Hawaii in 18 days! WAHOO!! I'm so ready. and so not ready. Joe is leaving town for five days the week before we go and then he's got to work full days until we do leave, so I'll essentially be getting us ready on my own. So I think I'll start packing this weekend. :)

I really should go to bed, but every night I dread it. It's awful. And when I complain about it you'll want to tell me there's an easy fix, but I don't want to do it. All four of sleep in the same room (problem #1), so when one cries the other one wakes up. Problem #2 is that we essentially all sleep in the same bed. Now, for those who freak out over someone suffocating, let me be more specific. My entire bedroom is exactly that: a bed. Starting on the far wall is a crib with the side down that is against a queen size bed, which is against a co-sleeper (a bassinet that rests against the bed with one short side for easy access). There is no room for anything else. Especially me.

And what makes this all worse is how jealous Ali has become of Layne breastfeeding. When he is, she wants it. But not enough to actually stay there. She just wants to make sure I have it available for her. She'll come over and get situated and start nursing only to get up then come back, get up, come back, and on and on. Then if I cover myself back up, she only gets mad and starts trying to life my shirt back up. I thought that stuff wasn't supposed to happen for at least another year! UGH!

So anyway, sleeping. Since she's jealous it makes it really interesting to try and nurse him in bed. Nursing him in bed makes him more comfortable. He sleeps longer and sounder than if I nurse him sitting up and then set him down somewhere, but it also puts him in a position for Alison to crawl on his face, which she would if I wasn't hyper aware (which of coures means I never really fall fully asleep). Along with Ali waking up comes the most ungodly volume of noises out of her that demand attention. This is the only time I honestly lose my patience and start cussing. At 3 Am. Pretty much every night. And yet, I continue to torture myself for so many reasons.

ok...I really should go to bed. I'm nervous to move layne. He never woke up from his nap in the car and I don't want to take him out of his car seat. I think I'll go crash on the couch until he wakes up. sigh...another romantic night in the Michael house.

No More Elephants...at least for now

The elephant in the room has taken its leave. All I had to do was get my balls out (pardon me) and communicate like an adult. Then cry like a baby. Then things kind of resolved themselves. So I'm content right now. Thanks for the well wishes, hugs and advice. I appreciated all of it.

Now that the ugly icky stuff of last week is over things are feeling somewhat normal. Layne is starting to really become aware of his surroundings. Smiling and cooing and not crying nearly as much. And we're feeling more comfortable in the decisions we make. It's not been easy because you want to protect those around you from your own decisions, but like Joe says (every single day), you can't save em all. So....we're just saving ourselves and Layne. I almost laughed through my sobbing when the therapist said the same thing. God, if I really just listened the first time. You know?

Onto happier skies - I went shopping! and OH MY GOD! Gymboree is truly the most evil story on earth. It probably wouldn't be nearly as bad if I didn't have a girl, but they make it so hard!! Cute little matching shoes with the matching purse, dress, hat, gloves, tights, jumper, pants, sweater, and on and on and on. And it's not all frilly poofy pink. The thing that stops me is the tag. I don't even look at the tag 90% of the time. I go right for the clearance. and I actually found some stuff this time.

Nordstrom is also evil, although a little lower on the evil scale. They put out clothes that they know I will love and then tell me that the dress with the roses is $300! One little black dress with some flowers on it and it's $300. Why do I have to have expensive taste. I don't even have to touch it to know it's expensive. So I'm starting a nordstrom fund. I'm going to start saving up for the next big anniversary/half-yearly/just because sale and then go in there and buy me some real clothes.

I bought the greatest black t-shirt from Victoria's secret. Do you know, that I have worn that shirt more than any other shirt in the last month? It's comfortable. It layers well. It's flattering. and it doesn't seem to shrink or fade. I'm such a boring dresser. Black shoes, jeans and t-shirt with a cardigan. bbboooooorrrriiinnngggg... Must be why I have such crazy dressing friends. They're also so much more fashionable than me.

This has been a good ramble. Much brighter than my last few. I shouldn't need to blather on a much since I started seeing therapist with a fantastic view from her sixth floor office. but I'll try and keep the info updated.

fluency

I speak multiple languages, if you hadn’t noticed. Adult, child, brat, crazy chick...fluent in all! You know that you’re not speaking a coherent language when your husband comes up to you and asks, “What was your last blog entry about? I don’t get it.”

I’m not going to clarify. I’m going to leave you up to the interpreting.  It’s not my job to explain my neurosis.  As an “artist” I have to leave the interpretation up to you. I’m sure I wasn’t clear enough to make any one point, so just make one up for me, will you?

Apology???

I am 17. I know that may surprise some of you (ha ha) but I am very aware that I am rebelling like a idiot 17 year old. I am angry and nobody can tell me otherwise. What’s annoying to me is that even though I see it I don’t want to back down. Not for prideful reasons (although those are evident) but for reasons of change. I’m not sure I can affect the change that needs to happen in my life without being this stupid. I know...that doesn’t really make sense. But then again, I am 17.

I don’t want to be mad. I don’t want to resent anyone and I surely don’t want to alienate people I love. I’m not very experienced at being angry and holding my ground. I don’t hold my ground very well, because I tend to be hot headed and prideful instead of smart. This time I was hotheaded, but I was right in my feelings. I felt what I felt because of the situation I’m in. There’s nothing wrong with that. The problem arose when I had not constructively dealt with my anger – and I have been trying! All it took was one little incident and every emotion was channeled into it. How ridiculous am I?

Now it’s all eggshells and smiles. How fun?! Even though it’s awful, I’m not sure I can do more right now. I think that this is like being pregnant (my dad would give a mechanical metaphor and Joe would link it to Star Trek, so I’ll make the connection with a uterus) and you’re the only one in the world who knows what you feel like at that moment. Of course there are millions of other pregnant women in the world, but you are all alone. You cannot share the amazing, intense and scary things that are happening to you with anyone else. You can only try and communicate them verbally, and the description never holds a spark to the real thing.

My emotions are boiling under the surface and if I were to let them out in little bits, they would change and be misinterpreted. But if I let them go all at once then things are really overblown and misread and my mind will change the next day anyway.

I’m not sure that I’m apologizing, because I’m still not sure I did anything wrong, but I’m willing to work out whatever I’m supposed to, and draw some clear lines to define who I am and where I stand.

(For those who don’t see the infraction – your sweetness is noted! Thanks!)

When I started this blog my intention was not to share it with people I knew. I wanted a place to vent and explore without worrying about offending family or friends. But then I realized that those people might or might not be interested in what I had to say. Plus, it was a good medium for communicating with people that I don't see regularly.

But today I find myself pissed off that I have no anonymity. I could just as easily start another blog somewhere else, but what would the point of that be? I would just start off in the same direction. So here I sit, frustrated that I've censored myself because I don't want to say something that might either offend someone or divulge information about them that they didn't want in the open.

I'm constantly worried about how I might upset people I care about. How me being honest might just be too much. My guilt outweighs my ability to be honest most of the time with certain people. And now I've gotten myself so worked into a froth over everything that I am starting to not give a rats ass about what anyone thinks about my choices or opinions. The kicker is that now I'm terrified that I'm just feeling mean out of pent up anger.

So what do I do? I can't find a freaking therapist at 11 pm at night on a friday. And I can't cry and yell about it to my husband anymore - it's stopped being effective and will start to get in the way of our relationship. And the people that I would normally go to I can't, because they're part of the yelling. Not all of it, but definetely part of it. What really sucks, is that they're going to see this. But it's more important to me to say what I have to say than to care what they're going to do about it.

Very few people can understand what my family is going through, but if they do understand, then I feel very sad for them. Every emotion is caught up in this horrid mess. I was scared at firstbut those feleings have morphed into something much more intense. It's invading my family relationships. IT, not someone, is taking what I used for daily stability and turning it into balls of fire. Firey balls of change. But not pleasant change. Not controlled change. This was started by a dumb mistake that two kids, who are too stupid to do much of anything, did. They were the catalyst. Now I'm sitting here taking care of their mistake. He's a beautiful mistake, but he's not mine and you can't know what that's like. You can't know what it's like to have to take care of someone else's child because they're stupid. THEN to have people assume that you have hidden intentions or motives feels like a someone squeezing the breath out of my heart.

My emotions are explosive and fragile and to express them concisely is incredibly difficult right now because I'm not sure what's real and what's just anger. So I don't express them. I thought I was doing the right thing. I was stepping lightly and carefully. I have not hidden anything from anyone except explosive misguided emotions.

I'm going to say this so that everyone knows how we feel. We love Layne. If his parents can't get their shit together and we (or someone else) have to adopt him, my heart will break for my brother, but I will rejoice for Layne's future (and my own). If it goes the other way and they are able to jump through the hoops set up for them and get back their son then my heart will break when I hand him back, but I will rejoice for my future (and Laynes). And as much as I love him, I have put my plans and dreams on hold indefinetely to take on the care of him: Someone else's son.

Every time he smiles, or laughs, or does anything new I want to get excited. I start to feel that maternal pride and then stop myself because I think about Ashley and how she's missing this. Every little twinge of attachment is the scariest most awful feeling because of the guilt that I'm not his mother and hopefully won't become his mother. So tell me how this can't be the hardest thing? Tell me how I can do more. Tell me how not to resent the parents for being stupid. I have compassion but I have no sympathy. Stupid is no excuse.

Turning Point

Last night - cuddled on the couch

What happens when you escape

Time away is an amazing thing. Although I find I’m not very good at it most of the time. As a woman (which encompasses mother, wife, sister, daughter and friend) I find that I guilt myself into believing I have to be accomplishing something when I am supposed to be relaxing – including relaxing. I take a bath, but during the bath I make sure I’m reading a book or closing my eyes or anything else that sounds like it might MAKE me relax.

Yesterday Joe told me that I could go somewhere when he got home to take a break. I normally don’t take those opportunities, for whatever reason. All I thought about yesterday was what I was going to do with my time away by myself. I was so excited. So I went to Barnes and Noble. I picked up a couple of books worth flipping through and some really pretty note cards to write some thank you’s on. Then I sat in the café and took my sweet time looking at a hairstyle magazine and a book on how to teach your infant to swim. I didn’t learn much about hair, but I’m aching to get Ali to the pool now!

Anyway, by not thinking about relaxing, I did. Which, helped me to release some grief on the way home about Zac. (Mom, this is the point where you pretend you didn’t read this. Dad – you too!)

I was having some random thought about when I was younger and in college and a fun memory of Zac came to mind. I took him neon bowling when he was about eleven. We went with my boyfriend at the time and a couple of his friends, who were all very nice, decent guys. One of which really seemed to take to Zac. Jim was a tall, lanky guy who was almost a hick. He spent the whole night picking on Zac like any good uncle/brotherly type would. When we left he picked Zac up by his feet and rattled all of the change out of his pockets. Zac was totally enamored with this guy. They had a great time. All he talked about the rest of the weekend was how much fun he had. This memory, of course, sent me into sobville. Loud, steering-wheel-banging, pissed off sobbing.

Because of course, from that memory came other memories of me talking about partying with my friends and telling Zac things that he didn’t need to know about college. I never talked about drugs or sex, and I never ever exposed him physically to it, but there is a part of me that feels incredibly guilty for the path he’s taken. How can I not? He was young and impressionable and looked up to his older sister. My parents often got upset with me and I, of course, being SO much smarter than them at 19 told them he was fine. My thought always was that since I could have been in his shoes and still turned out a good kid, then he would too. Of course! He’s a Moody! Moody’s can make dumb choices, but they always know how to find their way out of it and through stubborn perseverance can overcome any obstacle. How stupid and naïve I was.

In order for me to protect my heart I have to begin grieving now. I cannot imagine what my parents are going through. But I know that it has to be easier for me and it’s still awful. I know that if I hold hope for him then I am letting him tear apart my heart and I can’t. I already have a child who has the ability to do that to me one day. I can’t waste it on him. So my grieving has already started. But just when I think I’ve gotten a grip on it I remember the charismatic, adorable, hilarious kid that was my little brother.
I adored him. I used to seek out boys to date that were like him. I imagined he would turn out like them and be such a catch. He had so much personality. And slowly he turned in the opposite direction and I never allowed myself to believe that he wouldn’t return from that path. That CHOICE.

I know that it’s not my fault. I know that he would have made the same choices eventually. Maybe sooner, maybe later. I can’t let guilt for not substantiated reason run my life and my heart. I think we all feel some responsibility for what we’ve done to lead Zac into his current life. So I’m going to take my own advice and realize that I am not responsible. He is his own person and will always be. If I’ve done something wrong he may one day tell me, but until then I can’t speculate and let it run my heart. He’s on his own.

After that good cry and a mocha I feel much better about life and may just be able to look Zac in the eye next time I see him. We’ll see if I get that far. I may need another night away (hint hint honey).