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In fifth grade, I was singled out by one girl in particular. She went to great lengths to find me alone to whisper threats into my ear. I ignored them. She’d give me long, lingering, menacing stares. I ignored them. Inside, I was terrified, but I tried my best to stand my scrawny ground. I never said a word. One day, she decided to push me off the sidewalk leading from the playground back to class. I didn’t say a word as I picked myself up and continued walking, but our teacher saw it happen. She asked me what happened. I said nothing. She asked her what happened and she said the same. Our teacher marched us both into the library and told us we were not allowed to leave until we were friends. She left me alone with my tormentor. The funniest thing happened. She and I became friends. She had lots to say and I was a good listener. She had lots of opinions and I was non-judgmental. She hated our teacher and I humored her complaints. She and I were friends until she graduated early in 1988. During middle school, we saw each other through some serious personal trials. Hers centered around her mental instability and mine around some serious family dysfunction. We held each other up when others could not understand. We were completely loyal to each other.

My senior year of high school was particularly stressful. By this time, my friend had graduated and we’d drifted apart. As soon as I graduated and went to college, I left my home city and never looked back. I didn’t abandon my family – they moved to a different city too, so I had no need to return to the site of such painful memories. I finally went back for my 10 year high school reunion. I looked for her, but she wasn’t there. I didn’t pursue it further. I recently went back for part of my 20 year reunion and was shocked to find out that she committed suicide sometime before our last reunion. I felt like a part of me was ripped away when I heard the news. The saddest part? Nobody could tell me what happened. So few of them really knew her. It’s been several days since the reunion and all I’ve carried away from it is that somebody very important – to me – is missing… forever.

I am doing a lot of reconciling right now. It has been over 20 years since I’ve thought about a lot of things, happy and painful things. I find myself in a position right now that I have to re-experience everything. You see, my husband, children and I are moving back to the same city (the same area to be more precise) where all of this occurred. I see familiar faces and places and memories explode into my head. I reconnect with old friends and my high school sweetheart and I feel ashamed that I abandoned them. So much time has passed. How can I explain that I had to get away to heal my bullied soul? How will my healed and stronger self face all those painful memories?

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I put a post up on the Boerboel Blog that I’m closing it down. I had a contest for Halloween and ever since it ended there has been controversy, hearsay, and a lot of time and energy being a mediator for something that used to be so much fun. I swore that I would not make another post until the issue was resolved. It resolved the day I put that notice up. Nearly 5 months of resolving issues! I can’t afford that kind of time.

I’ve been spending more time with my kids doing puzzles, coloring, playing games and I’m finding I like that so much better. I wish that were my only job…MOM. I also wish I could devote a bit more time to The Hot Zone with Joe, but I’m so worn down by everything. I take care of the kids (transportation alone is 2 hours/day), the dogs, the house, my grad school almost single-handedly.

I try to keep up with everyone and I like having personal interactions with them, but anyone online who is talking about the taboo topics just turns my stomach to knots. I can handle my own and I do, but I’m not diggin’ it, if that makes any sense? Furthermore, I’m looking to have more things in life that I’m diggin’, because there aren’t many right now.

No, I’m not depressed. I have just finally reached my limit. I guess it’s boundary drawing time.

I’m sure you’re wondering about this…yes, I have thought of closing this place down as well. I don’t know if I will do that yet, but I am starting to cut some things loose. I have to for my own sanity.

I ignore many of the “requests” and “invitations” that I get on Facebook, because I don’t really understand the point of them, but for some reason I expect that people will read my blog material just because I ask them to. It sort of worked this last time though, and when I mentioned that I had a bonus story for the first person who asked, my old college friend M stepped up and asked for it. Thanks for paying attention and giving a shit, M! Here’s your bonus story.

Pumpkin likes for me to hang out in the bathroom with him when he’s going number two. (He kind of likes me to hang out with him every minute, actually.) The other day, he was sitting on the can, and he reached over and pulled a magazine out of the holder. Then he asked:

“Is this a dirty magazine, Mama?”

Of course, you know what I thought he meant for a shocking moment. My 3-year-old son knows what’s hidden in the closet behind those barriers in the bookstore racks!! But then I figured it out. The magazine holder is actually a plastic wastebasket. So, he thought he was taking a magazine out of the trash, and that maybe he shouldn’t be.

(The magazine was Allure, and often Allure has tasteful pictures of women not wearing anything. But he didn’t know about those. I swear!)

The kids were left to their own devices, because the hubs must have forgotten that when I was awarded World’s Worst Mother in the past, the WWM Authority removed my ability to see around corners. As many of you know, when you are cooking, you are usually already multitasking, with two timers going as you chop the next ingredient, or as you frantically search for the spice you were sure you had and actually do have but keep missing it somehow as you repeatedly pick up the Turkish Oregano thinking that you’re looking for a green top when you are really looking for a red top, and … oh, sorry, right, the kids.

I was trying, without much success, to referee the boys’ disagreements in the living room from the kitchen, generally by yelling “Okay, WHAT’S GOING ON?!!” every time 3-year-old Pumpkin started crying again.

But then big brother Einstein appeared in the kitchen doorway, looking a bit concerned, and said, “I think Pumpkin needs an ice pack!” Oh, lord, I thought, I am never cooking while the kids are still awake ever again! My neglect has resulted in a terrible injury!

Before I had time for full panic survival mode to kick in, however, I heard a voice pipe up from the living room, calmly declaring:

“Ice packs are vewwy cold!”

Not even slightly hurt. Also, prepped and ready for Chem 101.

1. I’m a bit obsessed about contacting people from my past. There are lots of cool people with whom I simply lost contact or with whom I’d love to know what happened in life. There are also those who have simply touched my life in some way to the extent that I need to tell them about it because it has been so meaningful. Some are more receptive than others. Some have gone out of their way to ignore me instead of communicating their thoughts about communicating again. Those usually include people I’ve dated. I’ve been reminded that not everyone’s significant others are as cool as mine and someone with whom I have complete communication. Even if jealous spouses are the reason, I am truly bugged by those who cannot write to tell me that they have no interest in communication with me, regardless of the reason. I’ve turned people down on Facebook and MySpace, but never without reason and never without informing that person of the reason. I’d like to think that we have all matured over the years. The truth is, not all of us mature and for that I’m truly sad. On a more positive note, I have recently been reconnected with a childhood friend on Facebook who I consider to be the greatest find there. Right now, everyone is paling in comparison to her particularly because our lives since seeing each other have had phenomenal parallels.

2. I like having such an interesting past with moving all over, living in Europe, going to bazillion universities, being married to a doctor, articles published in magazines, etc. but feel it has intimidated some people away from me. As Joe says, “Those aren’t the type of people you want as friends.” While I agree with that to some extent, I really wish some people would try because I don’t feel like life is about being better than the Jones’s. To me it doesn’t matter what materialistic things you have or don’t have, it’s who you are. Chances are, quick witted, smart, authentic, humorous and honest people will forge their way into my life and I not only want those people, I need them. For those of who have already done that, thank you!

3. No sense of pride comes close to what I have for my older son, Ari, with autism. I constantly find myself in situations with him where he just gets it. The other day we were snuggling before bed and a commercial for a jeweler comes on. Nowhere in the commercial does it mention Valentine’s Day, but it is advertising heart shaped diamond pendants. (For those of you who don’t know, it’s VERY difficult for kids with autism to think in abstracts…or to infer) He looks at me and says, “Wow. Those would be really nice for Valentine’s Day.” Thus, he not only knew what Valentine’s Day meant, but he knew those would be a really nice gift for someone. I was beaming and that’s just one small example in a sea of many.

4. While staying in Columbus was my first choice and something I never thought would be possible, a part of me is sad about not going to each and every place that Joe interviewed. All places had pros and cons and two were places we had never lived. I am particularly sad about the Pacific Northwest where it would have given me ample opportunity to share a hobby with my boys I have scarcely been able to enjoy myself since moving to the Midwest: hiking. Yes, I know we’ll have money to travel to these places and I’ll still be able to share these things with the boys, but I don’t believe there’s going to be anything to compare looking out of the window of your house and seeing mountains you’d like to explore right in your front yard.

5. I’m blind as a bat. Well, maybe not that bad, but close. I desperately want laser surgery and it’s on my list of wants once Joe gets out of residency. During my last eye exam, I talked about it with my optometrist and he thinks I am the perfect candidate. He thinks I’ll be tickled when I can wake and actually see the alarm clock. Yes folks, I have to put on my glasses to see the alarm clock in the morning. You’d be horrified to know how close it is. The irony, I think I look fantastic wearing glasses. I’d actually miss them a little.

6. I think I’ve made a lot of good choices in life to end up where I am today. But quite possibly the best choice was to go through intensive therapy (like 2x/week) in my mid 20s for 3 years. I had just gotten out of a long term relationship that I thought would end in marriage and realized that I didn’t have a self, which is why I couldn’t see all of his faults. The therapy changed the course of my life for the better and for that I am extremely grateful. I hope when I am licensed I can do that for other people. I would feel like I was paying it forward.