Author: alicewgold

I would like to state that I am a brunette, but now I am a mix of grey, white, brown, and blonde. I would also like to say that I am 150 pounds, but that would be a boldfaced lie. How about I say I am work in progress because that is the truth? A beautiful work in progress. I love the sound of my fingers tapping on the keyboard and my greatest hope is that something that I write will lift someone else on their journey.

Still Counting

When I start counting blessings I am always surprised by how many of them are categorized financially. This tells me two things. One, I am focusing on materialistic things too much. Two, I am way more blessed then I realize when it comes to having needs and wants met. If we were to class people from poorest to richest based on how much God gives them, I believe I am royalty.

Caroline’s preschool teacher has been sharing pictures from class on her website.
Check out these gems. Each and every one put a smile on my face.
How blessed I am to have my beautiful daughters.

count blessings

Right in the middle of our move when finances were super tight, I took Bella to get a tooth pulled. The baby molar had a bad cavity around an old filling that was a temporary repair for a broken tooth. The adult tooth was far enough in that the dentist decided a pull was the best remedy for the cavity pain she had been experiencing. It would only cost us $15 but it was money that would come out of our grocery budget. I got to sit and rest for 45 minutes while the dentist did his job and had a great validating chat with a friend from church who works at the dentist office. When Bella got through and I went to pay this friend informed me that we had a credit on our account and I wouldn’t have to pay. Even though she insists it was true, I still think she was pulling some kind of charitable act. Either way it was a great blessing.

After we got moved a friend from our old church congregation (As Mormons we are assigned congregations by geographical location – which can make things extra tough at moving time – especially in Utah when you only move a half mile away and now have to start associating with all new people at church) brought me my favorite of her baking repertoire: coconut bread. I ate the whole thing in less than 12 hours but it was oh so good and made me feel extra loved.

Another dear friend brought us a yummy dinner, but truthfully the comfort I felt in giving her and her husband a tour of our humble home was the best part. That goes for the friends in the paragraph above also. It really is all about relationships.

Our families aren’t really the best about birthday exchanges but my sister-in-law gave me a $25 gift-card to Olive Garden for my 40th. LG and I haven’t been there in a long time and it made for a really great date night.

On that same date, LG and I went to the cheap dollar movie and outside someone was selling kettle corn for $4 a bag. Typically I wouldn’t have given it a second look but I had $20 from my other sister-in-law (and brother-in-laws – shouldn’t leave them out…but we all know gift-giving is the girls’s job) burning a hole in my pocket. The instructions were I was only to spend that birthday gift on myself. Buying that kettle corn made me so happy and it was guilt-free. Thanks Logan Jill.

I was able to get TWO new pairs of running shoes with the birthday money I received from my mother-in-law. The money my mom sent me paid for the mirror I had to replace in the bathroom before we moved. I had bought the first one for $50 and by the time we got it installed it had broke again (right under the hardware in the same exact spot the kids had broken it) so I had to pay for a second one. The glass business took mercy on my and gave me the second one for $30 but I was grateful for that birthday money so I could afford it.

LG was able to travel to Pheonix for business and had a great visit with one of his favorite cousins and when he got home we were both extra grateful for one another. Absence really does make the heart grow fonder.

An old dear friend of mine sent me the sweetest belated birthday card with a $25 Amazon gift-card. Looking forward to a book purchase is bringing me happiness, but her sweet sweet validating words were one of the best gift’s I’ve ever received. I’ve worked really hard at making a lot of changes in my life and I have not a single person in my life who dishes out any sort of validation. (This is not a strong suit for my parents, husband, siblings, in-laws, or children) I wasn’t even aware of how desperate I was for it until her card arrived and brought many tears of pent up gratitude to just know that I am known and supported.

Another validation came in the form of an e-mail from a new friend in the form of a small compliment about this here blog. It made my day.

As I told you in another post some very generous soul helped us to make it during this really tight-budget month. For the first time in a year when I went to get the necessities at Costco I was able to also purchase a few non-necessities. We have been loving the grape juice and bacon bits.

When we moved I was fed up with our dilapidated vacuum cleaner that was being held together by duct tape. Instead of bringing it along, I chucked it in the garbage. We haven’t purchased a new one yet, but our commercial grade carpeting can be swept almost as easily as vacuumed. While I have been sweeping I’ve been able to clear the carpet of a lot of pesky dog-hair from the last tenant’s dog that obviously hasn’t come up with a vacuum.

My friend Kathy who has four daughters (just like me) gave birth extremely prematurely months ago. Her son JJ finally got to come home yesterday. It makes my heart so happy that she won’t have to endure all the traveling back and forth to the hospital any more.

I am grateful for immunizations. Caroline got her 4 year old shots today and she was so brave and tough. Her laugh/cry was so familiar to me. It makes me a tad bit sad that today marks an end of an immunization era for our family. I will never again hold a child’s hand while they get stuck by a nurse. I’ve also been reading a lot of family history stories and the stories of so many children dying so young make me so grateful for immunizations and modern medicine. I have two kids with asthma. I can’t imagine watching them struggle for breath without their inhalers.

I love hot chocolate chip cookies right out of the oven, and I guess I better stop counting blessings now so I can enjoy them.

I just have to draw the line somewhere. I could count every moment the rest of my life and still not get everything recorded.

Abigail The Mini-Einstein

My Abigail is awesome. She is such a great girl. The last couple of times I have watched her playing soccer from the car while waiting for practice to be over I just can’t believe she is my daughter. She is so grown-up. When did she become a woman? She loves to taunt us about getting her drivers permit in six months. Nothing better then that to make a parent feel like they are coming of age.

I love Abigail just because she is her but lately I’ve started to stress about what it will be like when she flies the coop. How will I know what to wear or what jewelry to match with my outfit? Who will tell me which shoes look better? What will I do without her to help the younger girls with their math homework? Who is going to be throwing out the smart trivia that always brings me such joy. This girls smarts always amaze me. I just really love hanging out with my Abigail. She has boundless energy and always makes me laugh.

Two funny stories about Abigail have occurred in the past couple of weeks. First is just a silly little thing but it demonstrates her silly sense of humor. She was talking to her friend about coming over to our new place to watch a movie. This is her wording, “Hey Kaimi, do you want to come over to my half-of-a-house and watch a movie?” The only reason she could even invite her friend is because the rest of us wouldn’t be home to bug them all night. We are literally on top of each other in our half-of-a-house, but at least we can all laugh about it.

The next story happened yesterday. It is A-typical of Abigail’s ADHD. She is my little mini-Einstein. She is just like her dad (except for the sense of humor and boundless energy and fashion sense – I’m taking all credit for those traits). She is smart as a whip but struggles with organization and motivation because of her ADHD. Although she could have taken all honors classes this year as a Freshman, LG and I limited her to two because we knew she would get overwhelmed. She picked math and science for her honors because those are her favorite subjects and are of the most interest to her.

All year long she’s been getting straight A’s and she’s told us that she was on top of her homework. We trusted her. Well, this is a pattern with her. She outright lies because she doesn’t want to do her homework. So, yesterday she texts me from school and tells me she is going to just drop honors math because her homework packet is due and she didn’t finish it. (The way they do honors math is by giving additional work to do at home to the kids that want it) I was not happy and kind of confused because I didn’t even know if she was allowed to drop it. I ended up calling the school adviser and after a couple of tries I found myself on the phone with her math teacher. I explained the situation and told the teacher I was NOT o.k. with this and would come pull her out of school right now to get the packet done. Her teacher replied, “No way, she is way too smart not to do honors; don’t worry I will take care of this. I will get her in here right now.”

Her teacher ended up texting her from one of her friend’s phones and got her to come to her class where she told Abigail that she would give her til morning to get it done. Abigail – 0, Mom – 1.

Abigail and I laughed about it all afternoon. Then LG stayed up until 10 pm with Abigail getting it all done. Math is just not my department. We now will require Abigail to show us her work every day so we can help her manage her ADHD better, but our final goal is always to let her manage it herself. Obviously, she hasn’t arrived quite yet but lucky for us we’ve got a few more years til college.

If you want a better picture of what it is like to raise an Einstein daughter, check out this commercial. It is so my Abigail.

If Only Mileva Einstein Could Have Slipped The Genius Some Ritalin #2

Who wouldn’t want to married to Justin Timberlake or Will Smith? What if someone told you that if you married them you would also automatically get a big old dose of rejection, loneliness, feeling ignored, frustration, anger, exhaustion, and a sense of hopeleness? (Read here.) I know from experience that all of these emotions are part of being a spouse to someone with ADHD.

The first of my series is here where I share some of our story. It also explains my opinion that Mileva Einstein may have been able to save her marriage also if there was Ritalin back in the day. A lot of good people are getting divorced because of ADHD. Even this renowned psychologist/author just thought her hubby was a deadbeat. My hope is by sharing our story we may be able to help save some struggling marriages.

Dr. Oz says that 75% of the eight million adults with ADHD have gone untreated. He admits that there are a lot of spouses out there feeling like they are raising another child. I highly recommend his online series on ADHD and marriage.

In the beginning of the series Dr. Oz interviews a really smart doctor with an Ivy League degree who wasn’t diagnosed with ADHD until after graduating from medical school. (Just like my hubby wasn’t diagnosed until after plowing through law school) I loved this quote by Dr. Hallowell when he explained why he made treating ADHD into his life’s work.

“The struggle can be turned into a victory.”

From personal experience I know that this quote is true. That is why I started writing this series. I wanted to share my experience with supporting my hubby. I wanted people to know the coping strategies not just for the individual with ADHD but for the marriage.

So, if you are having any or all of those above negative feelings, your first step is to identify the problem. You might think the problem is just laziness, addiction, trustworthiness, inability, or even just plain stupidity but it’s more than likely not any of those things…it could very likely be ADHD.

My first two suggestions, echo this great article.

1- Get educated. Go over and evaluate. One important part of ADHD evaluation is that someone close to the diagnosed also includes their opinion. Often ADHD people are not even aware of their symptoms or are in deep denial.

2- Seek optimal treatment. There are three equally important parts of treatment. First – Get medicated. Second – Make behavioral changes. Third – Changing the way interactions occur in the marriage. All of these parts require some professional help. Don’t think you can do it on your own.

Stay tuned for the next post in the series where I will talk about our favorite parts of the second and third leg of treatment.

Home is a Feeling.

Last week I just got done with the final unpacking. While making dinner Alison Krauss was playing over the portable CD player when LG wrapped his arms around my waist from behind and kissed my neck. The air smelled like apples from my Scentsy lamp but then LG’s familiar man-smell permeated my nasal passages. I took a long deep breathe. Two of our girls were happily playing Rummikub at the nearby dining table and the other two were sitting on the couch watching T.V.

I stirred whatever it was that I cooking on the stove and then turned to LG and gave him a hug and kissed him. The kiss became a longer kiss and then a really long kiss. The girls all started to murmur in objection to our public display of affection. “NO PDA allowed.” We laughed and whispered to each other that we would finish this later in private. I went back to cooking. LG stood close by trying to be helpful but mostly just supporting the cook with his presence.

I observed, “It feels like home.” LG questioned, “Which home? The old one down the street or the one we left in Tennessee?” I thought for a minute and said, “Both.” I pondered on how the feeling was the same even though the surroundings were so different and further communicated, “You know LG, I think home is a feeling, not a place.” He agreed.

No wonder why this is one of our favorite songs.

“There is a certain kind of yearning for home we should never want to lose. Home should be an anchor, a port in a storm, a refuge, a happy place in which to dwell, a place where we are loved and where we can love. Home should be where life’s greatest lessons are taught and learned. Home and family can be the center of one’s earthly faith, where love and mutual responsibility are appropriately blended. Thinking of home with its pleasant and happy memories can make us stronger during our present and future days here upon the earth….

When we have a yearning and don’t know what it is for, perhaps it’s our soul longing for its heartland, longing to be no longer alienated from the Lord and the pursuit of something much higher, better, and more fulfilling than anything this earth has to offer.

After Joseph, youngest son of Jacob, had been reunited with his brothers, he asked them to return home to Canaan to bring his father, Jacob, to him in Egypt. As the brothers were preparing to depart, Joseph said to them simply, “See that ye fall not out by the way.” (Gen. 45:24.)

Might our Heavenly Father have given us much the same counsel as we departed his presence to begin our earthly sojourn?

May our yearning for home be the motivation we need to so live that we can return to our heavenly home with God our Father on a forever basis.”

~Marvin J. Ashton, Oct 1992

Check out this inspiring story of some Mormon missionaries in the Philippines who thought they would never again go home, but were miraculously saved.

I am NOT forgotten.

A little elf arrived at our doorstep this morning. Funny, I’ve often thought of elves as Santa’s helpers. Today I realized how very wrong I have been. Elves are God’s angels on earth. Let me explain.

elves

Sometimes it’s easy to wonder why God has forsaken us. I try not to dwell in that sentiment when I feel it but I admit that I feel it often. Feeling forsaken has become a way of life for me. I think anyone who tries to live a faithful life must struggle with feeling resentment from time to time. After all, this life is a test. If it wasn’t hard it wouldn’t be a test.I personally always feel pretty guilty when I feel forgotten. I then try to remind myself that once Christ felt forsaken. If he can feel alone then it must be an o.k. frame of mind for me too. I am a huge advocate in teaching people to not be ashamed of their feelings. Feelings are what they are. For too many years I felt shame for my feelings and it got me nowhere but deeper into the dark and then I learned that I can’t control my feelings. I can only control what I do with my feelings.

So, I’m here to tell you that when a woman tries so very hard to live her life in a way that would be pleasing to God and keeps hitting the same brick wall over and over again she feels forgotten. In the past few weeks I’ve had to keep moving forward to keep myself from succumbing to the depression and discouragement associated with my brick wall. My forgotten place is not pretty.

What is my brick wall? I have many, but the one that gets to me more than any of the others is financial strain. I have never known a life without financial strain. I was born under a roof of financial strain. No matter how hard I work or how hard my hubby works we never seem to break free from financial strain. No matter how much we improve at frugality and income-earning it’s as if God doesn’t want us to ever have a better way of life. It’s hard.

LeGrand and I have discussed this a lot. We don’t understand it. We are good people. We are generous. We serve others. We share what we have. We are not selfish. We are not really worldly. We don’t try to keep up with the Jones-es. We don’t have a desire to impress other people with our worldly goods. We just don’t. We give 10% of our income to God’s purposes. We donate additional amounts in money, goods, and time to various other humanitarian efforts. We are honest in our dealings with our fellow-man. We don’t take advantage of other people. We don’t even like accepting gifts from others. All we want to do is provide our kids with their necessities and bless our fellow man, but so often we are left unable to do so because of our economic status.

I can’t complain because I’ve had it worse. Much much worse. I’ve had it so bad that even if I have nothing leftover but a little food in my pantry just being able to pay bills is a blessing I don’t take for granted. We pay our bills. We always have a little leftover and we never go hungry or without a home. However, moving into a basement apartment at 40-years-old with four impressionable children and a defeated husband still sucks. It’s hard. Everyone is left wondering why God gives to others so abundantly but only takes from us.

forget me not

And then a little elf knocked at my door. She said she had a gift from one of the other elves that she knows. She couldn’t tell me who.

This afternoon I opened the elves’ package to a large sum of money. I could hardly believe my eyes. How do people always know exactly what we need? I mean EXACT down to the penny. I know how God knows, but how do elves know? How do people know? Oh yeah, because they are God’s angels and they are really good at listening and doing.

As I stood counting and recounting and crying and re-crying I remembered the drill. I’ve had this happen so many times in my life yet I still shake my head in disbelief. How can this keep happening?

I then remembered that God allows me to struggle because He wants to manifest His power in my life. He allows other people to have more because He wants to manifest His power in their life too. He wants us to see how awesome it feels when we understand that we belong to each other . Life is most beautiful when we act accordingly. He also wants us to know the power and love that exists in caring for one another because his power and love is infinitesimally more.

I know these things. I’ve learned them repeatedly. Yet every time a miracle happens I am rendered speechless.

Along with the money, today’s elves gifted this quote along with a beautiful forget-me-not necklace that I don’t think I will ever remove from my neck. (LG said the necklace is for me and the money for him – which is true since he pays the bills.)

I am not forgotten. Ever. And neither are you. Thanks for the poignant and extremely timely reminder angel-elves. Oh, and thank you, too, my loving kind generous Father in Heaven. I’m sorry I always have to be reminded but thanks for your patience.

Homemade Paint from Stuff in My Pantry

So this pin from pinterest piqued my interest.
(Say that 5 times fast.)

I love it when I find something great for the kids to do for super cheap.
This homemade paint is awesome.
Ten thumbs up.

Caroline and I enjoyed this activity yesterday
and when we got the paints out again first thing this morning
they seemed to be storing just fine.

If anything they are even better today.
The salt has completely dissolved making the texture more smooth
and allowing the colors to combine better.
Caroline was quick to observe that yesterday’s grey is today’s purple.

I do believe I will never be purchasing paint at the store again.

Lessons from the trail: A Scout Leader

This lesson from the trail occurred a few months back. It was dusk on a perfect-weathered weeknight and I was out biking with my hubby when we crossed a bunch of young men accompanied by their adult church leaders. They were all getting exercise at their own levels of ability. We observed the get-goers first as we were riding in the opposite direction. First was a group of about 10 boys with one pretty fit and younger leader cruising along at an admirable speed. The next four groups were varied in number of boys and accompanied adults but ranged no more than a few minutes behind the front group to trailing maybe five minutes behind. After a few more minutes we then passed the obviously struggling group with some of the younger boys as well as the overweight members of the troop (adults and boys). They were slow, but they were still persisting and seemed to be enjoying themselves and the camaraderie. LG and I discussed our pride and admiration for the whole group (at their varying abilities) as we rode away. We assumed that the last struggling group would be the last but we assumed wrong.

This photo was taken at the Norman Rockwell exhibit at the Church History Museum back in August ’13. No doubt my husband was having a moment of remembrance to when he earned his own Eagle Scout.

After several more minutes we came to a crossroad where the trail-users have to yield to the vehicles using the city road. Because we were stopped waiting on the traffic we were able to observe the very last Scout leader with just a single boy across the street. What I observed touched me deeply.

At every road crossing on each side of the street there are a set of narrow passages through gates that keep large vehicles from using the trail. I personally (as well as most others) pass through these gates with ease. Whether I am running or biking, I don’t have to give the narrow passages a second thought. When LG and I ride together, so that we don’t have to slow down, it is just understood that simultaneously he takes the passes on the left and I on the ones on the right.

This day however LG and I both stood still with our bikes as we watched this most amazingly patient Scout leader treat his troop member with great kindness, respect, and love. We had just passed the rest of the troop so we could tell that this young man wasn’t one of the youngest. He was probably about fourteen and looked like a completely healthy capable kid. Yet, upon careful observation it was obvious that this boy must have had some kind of mental disability. From across the street, we watched this pair slowly approach the gate and even more slowly come to a very careful stop.

With an encouraging smile on his face, the leader stood aside and let the boy struggle through the threatening narrow passage. For some reason the boy’s large motor skills created a mountain out of a molehill and he could not get through the gateway while peddling. He tried. He gave it everything he had, but he eventually dismounted his bike (while somewhat animatedly cursing the dang gate) and walked through awkwardly dragging his bike to his side.We took an extra long drink of our water and moved to the side of the path on our side of the street to stay out of the way. The same exact four minute process happened once again on our side of the street and we had a front seat view of one very determined boy and his ideal Scout leader. Thinking back on this is bringing tears to my eyes once again. It was such an inspiring interaction.

boy-scout_detail

I couldn’t help but find this event metaphoric in my own life. Don’t we all struggle at times in our lives? Sometime somewhere we may have been or will be at the end of the pack. We may be frustrated with a repeated obstacle. We may be giving it everything we’ve got (in fact giving it more than even the ones at the front of the pack) yet we remain peddling way behind. I’ve been there. I’ve wondered, “Why me? Why does it have to be so hard?”

When I get to my next obstacle I will think of this boy and let his determination and courage be my guiding light.

I will also make a very serious effort to be a leader with kind eyes, a patient demeanor, an encouraging smile, and a love bigger than the universe itself.

If Only Mileva Einstein Could Have Slipped The Genius Some Ritalin #1

My husband has ADHD. It’s true whether or not he feels like admitting it today. After the insistence of our marriage counselor he finally went and got back on drugs. Thank you Joyce! Four days later I can already tell a huge difference in him. The bags under his eyes aren’t as palpable, the deer in the headlights look is completely gone, and I would even argue that he is more emotionally engaged.

I’ve been feeling a little guilty that not only did I not recognize completely how his meds helped him, but that I didn’t insist he stay on them. Back in 2011, after a really bad couple of years in Tennessee, LG and I were grateful for a new start in Utah. With our newly acquired health insurance the first thing LG did was go to a doctor. He was really motivated to be amazing at his new job and he welcomed help from his ADHD prescription. However, over time, he got cocky. He felt like he didn’t need them and didn’t want to deal with the side effects. He also didn’t want to spend the money so he went off of his drugs. Slowly, over time, the old non-functioning LG was beginning to resurface but it was so gradual that I didn’t pin-point it. Once again the marriage counselor came to the rescue.

She had a really frank talk with LG last week. “LeGrand, do you understand how it effects you and everyone around you when you don’t take your ADHD prescription? There is not only a direct correlation but a lot of research to support the fact that your ADHD is feeding your other issues? You need it to be treated and you can’t wait another day.” Then she challenged him to get into the doctor last week, which he did, bringing me to this post.

I’ve been thinking a lot about living with Einstein for the past sixteen years. My husband is genius. I am not kidding. He is one of the smartest people I know. It is not surprising to me one bit to know that Einstein is a poster figure for ADHD. I am married to him. (I also have a daughter who is him in his female reincarnated drop dead gorgeous form.) My husband (and daughter) could not only figure out how far infinity is but once he knows the answer he could also quite simply explain it to anyone else who needs to know. When other people would have lost the patience to teach me after an hour of explanation, my husband always finds another way around explaining it (and another, and another) until I understand. When anyone has a question, it must be answered to everyone’s satisfaction. There is no way around it. Knowledge and wisdom are his guiding light.

My husband would also get to the other end of infinity and realize that he forgot his keys to unlock the door, and the pen and paper to write down the formula, and then he would make a mental note of about 800 things to do when he got back and proceed to forget every single one of them.

In short, it is extremely challenging to be married to someone with ADHD. If you don’t believe me, check out this article about Einsten’s personal life.

Let me help you understand what it is like.

My husband is on his 7th or 8th wedding band since we got married. It was really sad the first time it happened, and the second, and the third, but now I am not even sure if 7 or 8 is an accurate number. We quit counting a long time ago.
My husband struggles with major self-esteem issues because of his ADHD. No matter how much confidence I try to instill in him, years of under-functioning with ADHD have robbed him.
When my husband doesn’t know the answer to something (like fixing anything) he will avoid it indefinitely.
His keys and wallet are in one form or another of lost at all times. (One of LG’s favorite sayings is, it’s only lost if he’s looking for it.)
The man needs constant stimulation. Constant. I am not talking about sex, (although that works) stimulation comes in all forms…reading, texting, gaming, watching TV, fidgeting…doing all of these at the same time.
He literally cannot remember insignificant tasks like taking out the trash, complimenting his wife, planning ahead farther than one day.

The list could go on and on, but honestly all you have to do is read up a little on ADHD to understand the challenges I’ve faced in my marriage. Perhaps one of the hardest parts of loving a person with ADHD is their inability to connect emotionally. Here is a great article that explains how marriage is effected by ADHD. I really get the resentment mentioned about being the spouse who has to do everything. I am sure if you asked Mileva Einstein, her and I would echo succinctly.

As I was just researching for this post, I came across this article with this accompanying picture. I have read a lot about ADHD but this is the first visual that has brought home the reality of ADHD being an inclusive disorder. ADHD takes pieces from the rest of the disorders. For the first time, my husband’s ADHD also explains his tick of constant blinking (that in others would mean Tourette’s), his social anxiety, and some of his OCD tendencies such as never having dirty hands and always wearing socks with shoes.

This post has gotten quite long and so I think it’s time to split it into two. Coming next will be ways that we have successfully navigated through ADHD. The simple answer is we have remained loyal to one another, have sought out professional help, and never stopped loving one another, but stay tuned for some more specific helpers.

Being the Change Sucks Sometimes

be the change So I have this friend. Well, I guess I should say that I HAD this friend as she has told me that we are no longer friends. This friend is the best friend I’ve ever had. She’s a great person. A really great person. She is kind, thoughtful, gentle, hard-working, loving, beautiful in and out, smart, a total clean freak/germaphobe, a great mom, selfless, and easy to get along with. She is extremely spiritually-minded and a great example of faith and Christianity in action. She has been there for me countless times in my life when no one else was.

She also has flaws. I won’t tell you what they all are as it isn’t necessary to the story, but I am intimate with her flaws. “Be the change you wish to see in the world,” is one of her favorite quotes. The ironic thing is that she is sometimes very closed off to change. As long as I’ve known her (which is a long time) she resists change, especially in herself. For a long time I thought she didn’t need to change. I thought she was perfect and that I was the one with problems, but I’ve come to my senses and realized that I was bamboozled into believing this lie.

She needs to change. I need to change. Everyone needs to change.

The hard part about change is that when you do it, it effects other people. That is why marriage counseling is so totally awesome. It helps people change together! Changing together is miraculous. I have seen the most significant changes over the years but none are more important then those that my husband and I have made together.

They need friend counseling. They really do. I am embarking upon the second round of no-contact with this friend in the past ten years. It’s because we don’t know how to change together. It seems we can only change apart from one another. I don’t like it, but it is the reality of our friendship.

I have spent a lot of time thinking about this friendship and how to handle it. It seems I am ill-equipped. This friend is very closed off. She doesn’t like to talk about her problems. She doesn’t like to admit her weaknesses. Sometimes I wonder if she is even aware of them.

On the other hand, I am a very self-aware person. I love to talk about myself. Talking is one of the greatest ways that I learn, second only to writing. I will share anything and everything with pretty much anyone. I struggle to contain private information.

You can see how this creates a problem in our friendship. It pretty much goes like this:

me: “I am so sick of my husband.”
her: “My husband is so fantastic.”

me: “I have been so depressed.”
her: “Let me help you with your depression.”

me: “I am so sick of being poor.”
her: “We just bought a house for $50,000 less than it is worth.”

me: “How are your kids doing?”
her: “They are perfect little angels.” (As they tear each other’s eyes out in the background.)

me: “You are going to be so house poor with that huge house.”
her: “Oh but it’s so worth it.”

her: “I am so glad you guys are happy.”
me: “We are happy.”
her: Whatever she needs to say to make sure I know she is happier.

I just couldn’t take it any more. I couldn’t play the game. I knew from past experience that she doesn’t like to be called out. I also know that when I tried to change and quit complaining/over-sharing we ended up with nothing to talk about. You can see if you have two “hers” in the same conversation it won’t get very far. I didn’t know what else to do to fix it for myself. I would be miserable every time I hung up the phone. I quit taking her calls. I quit calling her. We live in different states now but if we still lived in the same state I would have avoided her physically also.

After several months she messaged me and asked me what was up. I replied,

I have avoided you and it really isn’t cool of me but I’ve been felt it necessary for my own well-being. In one simple sentence of explanation: “It’s not you, it’s me.” I’ve missed talking to you too but the peace of mind I’ve gained has outweighed the benefits of broken companionship. I haven’t been able to pinpoint my issues exactly and I haven’t wanted to hurt you so I’ve just avoided it. Not very mature of me but it is what it is. I can’t even give you a complete explanation as, like I said, I haven’t figured it out myself. The best I can give you are two things. 1 – I feel like we have had an unequal friendship. I have shared with you too much and you’ve shared too little. 2 – I have issues with comparison/competitiveness and for some reason you put those into high gear for me and it was causing me a lot of heartache. It has been easier for me to tackle this part of me that I detest by just avoiding you. I didn’t and don’t know how to address this with you and truthfully it’s made me a lot happier to not talk to you as much. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had but our relationship is somewhat toxic for me emotionally (not because of you because of me). I feel like we lack honesty and the kind of intimacy I want from my friends and I don’t think you will be comfortable with the change it would take to make our close friendship healthy for me. I love you______. You are like a sister to me. I’ve missed you and I’ve prayed for you. I am the first to admit that I suck at relationships. I wish I was better at it, but being so far away and because they don’t make friend therapists I think this way is better for now.

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I wasn’t trying to say goodbye, but I did give her the out. I was really saying I need more from you, and if you can’t give it then it’s probably better this way.

I didn’t hear back from her. I then got a message on Facebook from a total stranger telling me that I was an evil person who treated this friend so badly. How dare I hurt her when she has never done anything to hurt me?

I promptly told this extremely codependent random person to mind her own business and immediately texted this friend to let her know I had been reprimanded by so and so (later she told me it was her sister-in-law) and that I was sorry if I hurt her with my reply.

This friend in true to form fashion immediately gave me a lengthy explanation about how she wasn’t really gossiping about me (because she’s perfect, right?) and then informed me that we would probably just be better off without each other. I told her that whatever she wanted as fine. That was it. End of story.

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So for the past couple of weeks I have been pondering on this end of friendship. I can’t help but feel like I am in high-school again. It feels so wrong. I feel like I should try and fix it.

I’ve decided that I did the right thing. I can’t change this friend. I can only change myself. I could try to keep living in her facade but it was just harming me and ultimately it was probably harming her too.

I needed more and she just couldn’t give it. She probably needs something from me that I just can’t give: like acceptance of her unreality for starters.

She’s a good person. I’m a good person. We just aren’t really good for each other and that’s o.k.

I’m moving forward. I believe I’ve been much clearer in stating my needs to her than she has with me. If she ever thinks that she can be what I need, she will know where to find me. I would love to be what she needs if she can start living in reality.

The one thing that I really wish I would have said to her and didn’t though is this reply to her telling me that she can’t just sit around being vulnerable and waiting for me to call her. I wish I would have told her this. Vulnerability is not your strong suit. You haven’t been the least bit vulnerable. Ever. If you ever want to be vulnerable, you know where to find me. I’m right here with my heart always hanging out for all to see.

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I have had to really examine myself if what I am experiencing with this friend is jealousy. It is easy to become jealous when one person is always talking about how wonderful her life is and the other is a total realist. I don’t think that it’s jealousy. It’s just that I feel like I’ve finally grown past being the friend who is the one being helped. A friendship takes two people who are willing to admit that they need help. Maybe she never needs help. Maybe she is perfect? Or not because perfect people only exist in their own world. It is just really psychologically and emotionally trying for a person like me who throws all her flaws out to the world to be real with people who don’t seem to understand.

I Feel Like I’m Rich

This morning after getting Caroline dressed for preschool, like usual, I looked her over and told her how cute she looked. She is cute every day, even when I don’t brush her hair. (Yeah, I admit that there are days I don’t brush her hair – I usually at least just pull it back in a ponytail. Judge only after you have four children.)

Today Caroline was feeling really special as yesterday we got her haircut at the local hair-school for $3.50 and we bought her a new shirt from the Walmart clearance rack for $4. Also, the other day LG had insisted that I buy her a new pair of tennis shoes that were easier for her to put on and take off. We’ve been making do with a pair from the thrift store that weren’t working so well. After brushing her shorter hair and putting it in a headband and sporting her new digs when I told her she looked cute she really believed it. She looked at me with wide eyes and a huge smile and said, “Mom, I feel like I am rich or something.”

Her declaration took me by surprise. We are obviously emphasizing our financial status a little too much around here. I chuckled and thought to myself, “Um yeah kid, you are soooo rich. We spent a whole whopping $17.50 on you all year.” I then thought how much happier I would be if shopping from the clearance rack at Walmart would make me feel as rich as it did for Caroline.

Then as I posed her for a picture the real lesson came in the form of a still small voice. “You are rich Alice. You are so very rich.” Like always the voice was right. Look at this beautiful girl. She’s all mine. She makes me the richest woman in the world.

As I looked around our small apartment at our comfortable couches, artwork on the walls, books on the shelves, and felt the warmth of my very humble American home I felt ashamed for my worldliness. Compared to most of the world, we are rich. We are very rich. We are rich in worldly terms and too often I am too prideful to see it. If worldly stuff mattered I should be grateful for so much abundance, but truly this little girl is way more of a reason for my heart to be full of thanksgiving because she is one of my few eternal treasures that I will be grateful for beyond the confines of this earth.