Revision Revelations

"You need to be here in two weeks." I'm sorry, "What?"

That was the call and response to my nurse in California, #thechefguyak and I, we had a plan as does many people.  We were going to go the two weeks after Father's Day or even first of July.  That was the PLAN!

We had just gotten married in January and we were in desperate need of some level of organized chaos but the time would be necessary to plan and execute a merit of stress inducing holy moly items, how are we going to A. Pay for this B. Take time off for this C. survive the recovery we are about to undertake. I, of all people (btw I'm the patient in this little cluster crash.)  had no idea what we were getting ourselves into.

We were as always doing this the hardest way possible.  We actually haven't done anything easily in the last few years.  I have managed in every 6 months of the last 2 years to do something to turn our life on its head.  I should probably back up. WHAT ARE WE DOING? 

Secretly, for almost 3 years I have been suffering from semi-chronic pain (semi-chronic - not every moment of everyday but more then less.) After our regularly unscheduled trip to the ER in March of this year, I was told by the doctors you need to see a specialist. Great, What now. 

My GI doc performed yet again another endoscopy, this time he said the words I don't think my family will ever forget.  "We have a problem, and Kristin is going to need to see a surgeon."  You see for years now my GI doc had been dilating a small valve that was constantly being pesky.  This time, as I was undoping up, my doc told my mom, "I can't fix this anymore and now there is an ulcer that will not heal through normal treatment." HOUSTON, We have a problem. 

See if you didn't know and I don't expect you too, 15 years ago I had a Full Gastric Bypass.  I weighed 350 lbs. and GB back then was way different(I'll get into that another time.)

With the GI doc a memory, we collected a stack of med records and went shopping for the most unconventional thing, A Surgeon. 

I started with my original surgeon, No response. And I couldn't even be mad, I knew in my heart this wasn't good. The next 2 surgeons told me, "Nope. your case is too complicated." Let me identify for you the scariest set of words in the English language "Your case is too complicated." I cried, I mean I crocodile tears that stuff up.  No one was going to be able to help me.  Finally, a girlfriend said call my doctor. According to her, her doctor would help she was the best. Well,  that doctor conveyed the same message as the 2 prior, "I'm sorry I just can't." But in the same moment she said, "I know who can." I was immediately referred to a surgeon practicing out of San Diego.

I wasted no time, I Googled, I stalked, I down right did a drive by from Alaska.  Upon investigation, I was not disappointed I met amazing people who said the words I dreamed of hearing,"We CAN help you." I cried each time they would call with a new bit of information, from the hospital is available this date to the insurance company just called and you have been APPROVED.  Okay great, but now back to the first line of this blog.  "You need to be here in two weeks." I'm sorry, "What?"

So let me explain this in the most painless way possible, my surgery the surgery that I would need to live any type of normal life is one that people plan months to have. They change eating habits, change behaviors all to have the surgery I was now planning on having in just 2 weeks. Let me clarify, my case was pretty extreme I was experience a 8 out of 10 pain level everyday and had been for months. Though I could wait, the doctor insisted that time was of the essence and the surgery needed to be performed ASAP. With this news, my world spun into what I was giving up, remembering how much of an adjustment I went through the first time I had abdominal surgery and now here I was 2 weeks from having an even more dangerous surgery. 

Needless to say, the surgery took place, Tuesday June 4th in San Diego, CA.  Everything the surgeon had warned of was there and more, his task fixing it.  Which he did, 3.5 hours did magically turn into almost 5 but in the end I had a new longer esophagus, smaller stomach, part of my old stomach had been removed and I had a new shiny straightened intestine.  Oh, and my partridge in the pear tree was 3 ulcers along the lower length of my stomach and liver. BUT I WAS ALIVE! 

SO, HERE is where the revelations start coming in, FYI! 

I can tell you NOTHING could have prepared me for this. 

From eating with a baby spoon to watching friends and family eat anything they wanted around me. I literally have wanted to crawl into a turtle shell and stay there. I honestly don't care how much pain has been relieved, I want my life back. I want to feel normal. And at this cross road is where I have stood since June 4th between pure fear and downright stand off pissedoffness.  

Please don't get me wrong I have the most amazing support system,  literally I woke up to a hospital full of people waiting for me to wake up and to care for me.  But what is meant in one breath to be just pure concern, in my confused and some what overly emotional mind, is demanding and unfair.  I know that they are just stopping an inevitable level of pain that they can't feel but no will come. It still doesn't change the facts. My life is now forever changed, no return policy here. Perhaps my level of sadness has come from many places, my life has and is changing in dramatic ways our family is changing, our jobs are changing. NOTHING IS THE SAME! And now I can't cope with a single stresser with anything that has helped in the past, I.E. FOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD.  

I ate as a crutch, it has always been a crutch. I used to joke that on a bad day, I mean down right terrible day all I wanted to do was sit down and eat a full bowl of spaghetti with red sauce and a stupid big steak. And to cook for my family, I could never cook for a single person if it killed me I will forever feed the army.  Why because it did/will protected me? It gives me worth.  

And that's it... What is my worth if I don't have food? I guess that's the question I have to start answering even in the moments of starting to cook again for our family and friends.  I have tried very hard in my life to give where ever I can and with whatever I have, so why do I feel like this loss is so soul crushing. I mentioned from the beginning people plan months, if not years to have the surgery I had.  My dearest confidant last week in a moment of pure desperation on my part said to me, "Get your head out of your ass! You are the only person I know tough enough to do this the hardest way possible." I laughed in the moment, but maybe I truly need to look at my own self-confidence and the worth that I provide to the world.  

For those who don't think I have an ounce of humility, I'm imperfect. I'm tough as nails but cry at romantic comedies.  I want everyone to like me and I want to prove to the world that I can do just about anything.  I guess in the end the biggest revelation is that I no longer can use food to be my safety net. Food isn't going to save me from the bad days and the rough nights, I will I have to do that for myself. 

Back Row View

I remember the first post... About it.. .http://wasntlookingforfrogs.blogspot.com/2013/05/there-is-monster-under-my-bed.html (It's a good read) No one could or would say, THE WORDS. I felt a wee bit crazy everytime I'd say "But she's real forgetful."

But we were in for a all expenses paid show that would change our lives.  One none of us knew would change us all forever.

That post, oh so many years ago came from an incident in the grocery. I had run into grab something relatively stupid (a common thing for me at the time, and hasn't changed much today); low and behold, My Mom! I walked up behind her and giggled looking at the full cart of groceries and said, " Buying food for an army." Expecting a giggle and, "oh, no, Kristin." She stared at me, I was as I am today a stranger talking to her.



In my dad's defense when I first came to him and
said, "Dad, there's a problem?" I was being his daughter, DADDY's LITTLE GIRL. I was 'trying' to protect him.  I pushed, I pushed to hard.  For that I couldn't be more embarrassed by my own actions. I hurt him unintentionally.

See let me explain, my dad married my mom in all the ways you marry someone, until death do you part and all that jazz. I, however, screwed that part up in my own life. So when my mom started to show signs of what would be her final diagnoses I was ready and willing to jump ship.  Not my dad, for almost three years he took care of his wife by marriage.  Tantrums, accidents, late night wake up calls, explanations to friends and family to explain my mothers more obvious symptoms;  all while working a full time job.

I couldn't bare to see him hurt and so yet again, I pushed. But he married her for it all and no one can take that away from him.  The days since the diagnoses have not been any easier on anyone.  He devotedly takes her on dates since moving her to a care center better suited to help with her needs. Movies and MacDonald's make for a big deal date, and he pleases in telling me they had a wonderful time.

Though even these days are slipping away ever so quickly now, as the stubborn daughter it is hard for me to visit; more out of my own fear of the reality then because I can't.  Recently, I had to step in and take her to a doctors appointment, I mustered all my courage to drive the 10 blocks to pick her up, I was an old acquaintances to her now until I reminded her with a squeeze and a whisper of "Hi, Honey." my token introduction since she has gotten sick.

I see now we have only a little time with her. She soon won't remember me, remember my babies, or anyone for that matter. Time is unforgiving to us in this way.  I wish I could go back to the day in the grocery, and STOP TIME! I wish I knew she'd remember long enough to watch Aar get married but that's not going to happen.

The monster under the bed has stepped out, it is now ready to reveal itself to us all. It is wicked and unexplainably painful.

Soon we will all be memories to her; her words will be gone and all we will have left are OUR
memories. Alzheimer's hit us SQUARE in the face; my dad, my kids, our extended family, even me, the tough one. We can't get it back, not the memories, no time but we can be thankful for all we have had.

We can show her pictures of those 30 years as a teacher, 36 years as a mom of a daughter (argh), 18 years of being a grandma to 2 amazing boys and the 45+ years of being wife by marriage to Mr. T. I will remember for her, not the bad but everything, every moment, every second... The Village Inn dates, the late nights of just me and her, "momma come rub my eyebrows." (Something she did when I was scared.)

I will be her memories each and every day as long as I can.  It will never be easy, each and everytime I or we have to reintroduce ourselves it gets harder.  Alzheimer's is terribly cruel and heartbreakingly miserable in the long and short of it.  I can't imagine how it appears through my Dad's eyes. We, together don't have the cheap seats, we have a front row view and as much as, everyone thinks they want a front row view to life in its entirely, from our perspective, we would rather have a back row seat.

Uniquely Equipped

How do you explain being uniquely equipped, and not perfect and make it sound, well glamorous???

Frankly, you dont.

It is a concept not easy to comprehended but one I honestly think should be considered in its entirety as a reality with in all of us. There are those whom walk with an air of entitled perfection, more power to ya.

I'm a 36 year old divorced mother of two, still working for the establishment because my brilliant life plan is actually written in hieroglyphics and I'm absolutely convinced it won't be revealed until I reach the ripe age of 40 (some 1,593 days away) But I'm okay with all of this imperfection. I'm talented sometimes too talented, bet you didn't know that can be a thing.

As proud as I am of being talented and gifts, I doubt myself A LOT, I mean alot alot!!! There aren't enough alots for this statement.

People, Companies, Organizations come to me and however much value I bring to them, I feel like a secret is going to be revealed like the unmasking of Wonder Women. Recently, a friend and confidant reminded me, “KG, they have to pay for it to for it to have value.” Cue the mask ripe off ladies and gentleman, over Prosecco I revealed the truth. I still feel like a big fakermacfakerson(that's a technical term, people) no book smarts here, and she chuckled and said “sometimes, it comes down to who can fake it better.”

Now that we have revealed the reality in the situation we come full circle, being uniquely equipped at living our imperfect lives. I don't think many people realize, I feel like a faker (if you do I'm impressed.) Whether you are 5 lbs. over weight, don't put make up on everyday (don't judge,) or 100 other individual struggles glamorous lives should be left to movie stars and millionaires because as much as I travel weekly these days, it feels, I miss my bed, my kiddos, my friends, my sweetie and the moments in the middle. I don't do events or modeling entirely because I love the clothes (don't get me wrong though that's a bonus) but I too bare the cross of being jealous because sometimes a glamorous life to me is my kitchen smelling of pot roast, smashed loaded cauliflower (a personal household favorite) and fresh baked chocolate chip cookies. Jealousy can go both ways.

Recently, I flew to New York and did one of those once in a lifetime things. I met numerous ladies from all over the country and each were and are these unique gems of stunning abilities whether the culinary baker who moonlights as a stunningly amazing make up artist to the rec center director who’s primary clientele are developmentally disabilitied who she was learning duck faces from so she could engage with one special young lady. I was and am in AWE! Some had done this 100s of times, others like me just came along for the once in a lifetime of it all. We each had a unique expertise at doing and being us.

I often catch people saying I wish I was or did…

Do It…

And if it's hard, keeping F%$×ing doing it.

Years ago I opened Absolutely Kristin and I successfully was unsuccessful because remember that Super Hero Reveal earlier, I never realized I was uniquely equipped to create this kaleidoscope of impractical services and make them make sense. And that if I were honest I thought others could simply do it better, because they knew how to ask for money or had realized their potential far before I had.

In short or not so short for that matter, in recent weeks I have realized it's okay to take a small part of the world or frankly whatever you can get ahold of and make it you. Wear the red slippers if you can, sing on the stage because  you sing like Reba, or simply consider your options of being the most imperfect perfection you can be. Because if you are even a fraction like me, being uniquely equipped for this life is the absolutely most incredible adventure you can ever be on.

Go live it.

I Have Been Hiding From You

I have a confession to make I have been avoiding you, not that I don’t trust you to understand me but because I didn’t think I deserved understanding, I GAVE UP!

In a few days Lil Dude will be 11 years old and year 10 sucked. I sucked as a mom, as a friend, as a business person.  And ask me WHY, lack of motivation (nope), lack of drive (nope).  Frankly, I don’t know why.  I do know that I found ways of coping with everything, I created creative ways to excuse myself from life.  "I can’t work out tonight because I need to sit on my couch" was my favorite, I can’t pay that bill because I’m worried where the next dollar is going to come from,

I can’t be me because

 I’m scared!

I procrastinated this last year away, I made excuses for a life and time where I could and did everything because I wanted to.  Don’t get me wrong I got out of bed each morning, drove my car to work, worked my anywhere from 8 to 10 hour day, but I didn’t do anything above and beyond at least in my mind.  Now that I’m writing this I reflect back, I volunteered still for numerous charities, I attended numerous amazing events but something is missing. 

I look in the mirror and I don’t see myself. I see someone who is tired and frightened. Someone who has forgotten their purpose. 

How does one lose their purpose?

In my defense, (wait more excuses)… I believed that where I am and what I am doing in life is what was deserved.  I had been a not-so-great person the last go around at having a great life, that now I deserve what I get. A 2 bedroom condo, with a leaky bath tub, issues with relationships and being appreciated I believed that this was now all I got.

 

THAT STOPS NOW!!!!

I’m worth so much more than those feelings.  I deserve to remember the days when I looked in the mirror and was proud of not only what I looked like (because I still know I’m beautiful) but proud to say I was doing something my boys would be proud of.  Number #1 son will soon graduate from high school and I have done everything in my life for him and his little brother why did that stop being my focus.  It can’t, I have to get it back. 

 

What does this comeback look like? It’s not going to be pretty, I’m going to cry and there are

going to be a lot of things I have to change. But the first step is saying all of this, the second is to make my priorities different: nights being spent on my couch to be replaced with a walk or a workout. I will go back and remember my love of this beautiful city and find an organization that inspires me. I will regain what has been missing, lost, stolen as it were.

 

This may not be my purpose but it is a goal and perhaps along the way my purpose will come along for the ride remember who and what we once were and jump back on like it had never missed a beat.  So if you should see me on this journey, remember you are you and I am every so much Absolutely Me and we all need a moment to reflect on what we want and don’t want and want to be every once in a while.  May the next 365 be so much about growing and giving back as the previous 35 years.

I make bad decisions........

I make bad decisions, whether Directly or Indirectly... Though at some point it would be interesting to look at the percentage of decisions I make on each front but I guess that's a MUTE point.

And so I ask, DO YOU????????

Do you remember the last bad decisions you made?  Did it have to do with LOVE, LIFE or YOUR HAIR????

Because I sit here this evening wondering Why we make BAD DECISIONS...

Why do we eat to much?

Why do we drink to much?

Why do we love to much?                  

I ask more for my kids then for me. Recently, I heard someone say "I'm to old to change!" Well, frankly, I might be to old to change... At 34 years old, do I have the capability to change in a dramatic way.


I was an adult EARLY... I'm not blaming anything on that but maybe my bad decisions started out well, 18 years ago. Don't get me wrong I'm blessed BEST KID EVER. I mean Moon, Stars and all that jazz, but would I have been different had I left Alaska in 1999 and gone all the way to St. Augustine, Florida and Flagler College where I had applied to go to college. Would you be different today if not for one small decision?

And what would it matter, other then whom you still associate with did those decisions you know the ones I'm talking about the ones about who you Love, Like and who (my favorite) Stand... Would it have changed you???

Do you regret those losses? I'm not immune to the loss of someone, I miss people as does everyone.  At this point in my life you either look at me as a reckless idiot or you look at me as an innovator.  Well, I'm here to say I'm HUMAN with faults and cracks and I know all this to be true.  And I'm accepting all of it.  I appreciate the people who think me reckless, because they really aren't watching close enough to know I have a plan and for those that think I'm an innovator well, I'm really just doing this all on a wing and a prayer.

As my neighbor yell at each other today I wonder, was I them.  I have been told by people smarter then me that all decisions are made on two things: FEAR and MONEY.  That seems so linear, two things to base everything on but as I think about it, what a true statement.  I lived my life for so long based on a number in my checking account or in disappointing someone else, FEAR and MONEY, honey you are for sure right.

All that being said, I wish to know or have pure confidence that my decisions aren't bad...  They are HUMAN. Sometimes in love, it hurts, Sometimes in eating you get "uncomfortable" and Sometimes in drinking you need ALEVE in the morning but it is all okay.

A long time ago, I judged someones decisions. I judged my Best Friend's decisions as bad decisions it wasn't my place, if I could go back today I'd tell her, "Go for it, I got your back in the end. ALWAYS."  I didn't get that opportunity, we lost TRAC before I could ever grow up and get it, we lost her to her decisions. Forever, I wish I could change my bad decisions to change this one moment in time.

I said earlier, I'm to OLD to change... Guess what, maybe that isn't entirely true.  I can choose today to be different, to stop making judgement on others for their decisions and to be okay with my own decision both directly and indirectly to remember that life isn't always right or fair or expected.

And that for once in my life, I can be okay with other peoples look on my decisions because honestly if they judge me that is just their own bad decision.

An Open Letter of Thanks to the Reasons I'm A Mom

Dear Aaron Michael and Logan Wade,

Thank you for making me, Mom. Tomorrow mothers all over the world will celebrate with flowers, a lovely brunch and a hand-made, hand-planted, hand-anything gift and they will swoon and say a hearty tearful thank you, and DON'T think I won't be that mom tomorrow.

But for now, 17 years ago, Aar you came into my life.  Ask my friends, Kristin, Kids? And they would have laughed none of them ever saw me as a diaper changing, puke cleaning up kinda gal.  Needless to say one August night you arrived and you didn't take no for an answer you needed a full time, no joke MOM.  You were demanding but patient, difficult but suspiciously cute at everything you did.

Moments of sitting on the floor in tears as we were both so tired and exhausted at the pace of being a single parent family in Las Vegas.  You were the one who would find the crayon box and a coloring book and turn any moment into the perfect time to color and for Scooby to make us laugh one more time.

We grew up together, let me say this better we are growing up together, through love and hate, through success and failure. You have taught me so much about this thing called life. That no matter the conditions, we are set forth with, you deal with them and they shouldn't bother anyone else cause they sure as heck don't both you.  Frankly, you have taken the good things in me and improved them. A high bride, for that matter. So much so, I am envious and speechless often at the Human you are becoming.

To my Tenderheart, eleven years ago, Single Mom me was ill prepared for the arrival of the life and path you have lead us all on.  It is said things happen for a reason and the day I met your dad I knew, he was meant to be a father and I, a mother to his kids.  Though your brother is the epitome of  unexpected arrivals you had your fair share of unexpected moments.  You changed me in ways your brother couldn't from the first sign of a baby bump to the moment it was decided you would be named after a Superhero(true fact) you have left me speechless more times then not.

You make me think, you make me laugh, you make me want to pull my hair out some days but over all you are a spit fire.  With the vocabulary of a 30 year old, I still wonder what we were thinking all those years ago to not "baby talk" with you.  In your soul I can see how wise you are, so different from your brother but so very similar. You, Tenderheart have taught me patience, you have taught me the skills of cookie negotiation and remote control etiquette; that betting you in anything is a suckers bet because you never place a bet you can't win. That Antomentium isn't really a thing, even if you are named after the Super Hero that has bones made out of them and that sometimes bones do break; that bravery comes in pint sizes and sometimes isn't fair.  You have shown me what it is like to FIGHT for those you believe in and that comedic timing and wit can change any moment into something to celebrate.

Boys, I tell you all this because there was a time when I didn't see myself as a Mom.  I was going to join the circus and be a Billionaire (Sorry, Dad.) From tickle monster wars to tearful 'I just want Mommy' moments, I'm a changed person because of you two.  One day you will grow up, and I won't be cool anymore.  And one day, as did I, you will disappoint me or your dad or both of us for that matter, and in that moment it will be just that, disappointing, but in the end I'm honored to be your Mom and I will always love you.

I'm proud of the young men you are and the Gentleman you will soon become.  So as much as tomorrow is a celebration of all 5 Million Moms out there I can't bare the day with out saying thank you for making me, Mom.

D-I-V-O-R-C-E Spells...........

D-I-V-O-R-C-E that's how you spell Divorce is isn't a word my kids know as a "bad" word; but maybe it should be. I get that it is defined in the Dictionary as
di·vorce

dəˈvôrs/

noun

1. 1.

   the legal dissolution of a marriage by a court or other competent body.

   "her divorce from her first husband"

So it isn't F*&$ or S&%^, but maybe is should be, because I can tell you it is a word that I never wished my babies to utter. 

As I write this my babies have learned in the last twelve months, Separation, Divorce, Loss and Sadness. A year ago, there was still HOPE; life Would, Could, oh Man, it will SAVE ITSELF it's got to; we DON'T Divorce. I say that because we both came from those families, his folks married as high school sweethearts who are  "see how much they love each other" people and my folks are still, hand holding dancing after 46 years of marriage, that is what we had to compete against.  HAPPINESS!!!! 

Then life happened: a new business, loss, a new job, THE HEART ATTACK, the realization that we were two very different people then 11 years ago. One morning WE woke up and WE decided, WE needed to divorce.  I could tell you all has been smooth, but you would in short time find that to be a complete and utter LIE.  

Officially, to call him my EX is still an overwhelming and surreal term; but with new Girlfriends and Boyfriends for that matter it would seem we have both moved on.  

I can't drive into the parking lot we had "THE TALK" in.  I still remember the quiet loss as we for the FIRST time spoke candidly about the lives we had, just ten minutes prior.  About the love, the hurt, the spirit of what we were as a family, reduced to just a few minutes in time. 

I'll tell you, the move out is something I choose not to remember; the move from our FOREVER HOME(the house I fought to live in.) Our kids, our dogs; our pieces and parts all reduced to 15 boxes and 2 car trips to a garage and house just a miles away; to be in a house that is so quiet and vacant that I still venture a guess people wonder if I really live here. 

You are asking, I hear you, "What about the kids?" Oh, I have a very special breed.  Both of my angels have stayed in the FOREVER HOME, more for the creature comforts of dogs and beds then because they want to pick one parent over the other. We just aren't that way. Little dude comes barreling through my front door each and almost every morning, "Hi, Momma." A Starbucks "coffee" stop and we are on our way to a new day of adventures, as I did with Aar all those years ago. "Be smarter then the other kids today." To which is replied, "LOVE YOU, MOM." As he runs off to school. Aar, well, I see him when his sixteen year old heart lets me. :-/ 

Hard moments can be listed on a dry erase board because today they seem so hard to deal with but tomorrow it will be just a moment, something to quickly erased.  In the beginning Little Dude was convinced that if he and his GMA built us "MATCH.com" sites we, of course, would match again, RIGHT?????  Seemed pretty straight forward, we had loved each other enough to create him how could we not be that match somehow again. YEP, try and swallow that. 

He though has learned, Mom and Dad won't be living in our FOREVER HOME together anymore.  

And then there's today, we will celebrate a 10th birthday in a few days and we have built a plan to celebrate it separately and with complete support of the others new lives and integrating them, like, you update your operating system on your cellular device.  

Now almost a year into this new experiment, I'm finally getting use to this eternally unexplainable life. I have spent a lot of time this last year in a very quiet world, but I have been blessed to meet some really great people. In the same breath, my fair share of, AHMMMMMMMM, DICK HEADs too.  I'm not a saint, no piece of perfection but I'm learning and growing from the experiences that have happened.  Learning what I want, don't want and what I think I deserve; what I need to change and what will stay the same in this new life. 

As for the past, I don't regret a moment.  From looking up and saying, "Holy Shit, that's a lot of people." on our wedding day to the moments when we agreed our life was not together anymore.  I'm very lucky to have been married to my EX; some days we drive each other crazy and that I'm told it is normal but WE made two amazing kids, we created a great life and I couldn't imagine it any other way. So cuss words and all, DIVORCE IS FUCKING HARD but we will survive both together and apart, as will, all of you, out there reading this.