Better day?

Today was a better day, vacation-wise. I got to go for a walk this morning. I only ran for 8 minutes today, but I walked for an additional 30 "briskly" so that was good. Then Cheeseman and I went to Wal-Mart to get a present for his buddy. He's going to the party tomorrow afternoon, so it was a good thing. And we picked out some more flowers for the front of the house. Hubs wanted to hang them tonight (the flowers), but we didn't have any hooks. Oh well, maybe later this week.

Cheeseman didn't want to eat much at lunch today, barely half his grilled cheese. Which is usually his favorite. He did eat a lot of Doritos though. That's his new thing - Doritos. Whatever! This afternoon, Cheeseman, Hubs, and I went to Baskin Robbins. Yes, I know, the diet. But it's okay! Sugar Free ice cream is the way to go. All the taste, with not near as much fat! Yippee! Only 4 points.

Then we went to the grocery store. Doesn't sound to exciting, but it was fun. Hubs pushed the racecar cart, and I did the navigating. We are trying to eat healthier. Most of the cart was filled with fruits, veggies, and whole wheat selections. Yay us! Tonight, we had salmon and the most awesome pesto rotini ever! It was seriously yummy! We even went for a walk together as a family after dinner. And the kids went straight to bed, not too much fussing. Usually, Bman gets up once or twice trying to escape bedtime. Only opened his door once. Turns out he just wanted Mommy to come in and sing to him. Such a sweetie!

Hubs went and met with our pastor today. He (Hubs) has suffered from depression at times. When we first got married, we didn't live in the same place for the first six months. I was here teaching, and he was finishing his last semester of school. At least, that was what he was supposed to be doing. Instead, he was going to movies, driving around aimlessly, basically just wasting days. When he finally sat down and told me, it was frightening. He went on an antidepressant and had some counselling. Then he moved down here with me, and everything was fine.

This spring, unbeknownst to me, this depression came back. I had noticed some off behavior, sleeping on the couch every night, and I asked him about it. He said nothing was wrong. Then, a couple of days later, he confessed. He hadn't been to class in a week. That was in April. Evidently, there were other times when he just couldn't get himself to go. His grades were not good. He was already on probation academically, and the seminary told him to take a year off. To get help and get straightened out.

It has been frightening. Again. And this time, there are two other little people to think about. It has not been a good time around here. Every day, I asked him how his classes were. Many times, he lied to me and made up stuff. I feel so betrayed! How can I believe anything that he says? I feel like I need to check up after him, make sure he's done what he's telling me. Like calling the doctor. Like going to talk to Kevin. But I'm not his mom! That is not what marriage is about, keeping watch like a hawk. It's supposed to be about trust and respect and love. I'm not really feeling those things on my end.

And I'm concerned about him continuing on this path. He's got an appointment to be a part-time pastor at a church about an hour and a half from here. Basically, we go up there on weekends, and he does his thing. The district office is okay with him going on and doing this. I have some reserve feelings. How can he pastor others if he can't even take care of himself? Doesn't he need to focus on him, and getting himself better?

And yes, truth be told, I don't really want to leave our church. Not at all. But I'm mostly thinking of him. He says that this is just what he needs to see if this pastoring thing is his calling. Isn't there another way? Wouldn't the failing grades and lack of motivation be an indicator?

Also, I'm pissed. Mad at him for lieing to me. Mad at me for not seeing it. Mad at him, because I've been working my ass off all year. And for what? For him to dick around and not go to class? I think not! I have neglected my children and not put them to bed for 3 nights, not even seen them for 72 hours, so he can skip class?! That makes me angry. AND, now that he has added at least one, if not two, more years to his schooling, that is more time that I have to spend in hell. Teaching. How could he do that to me?

But it's not all about me. It should be about him. About getting him better. About fixing this thing that's wrong. But I'm still allowed to feel these things, right? I can still be angry, and hurt, about what has happened. I just can't say anything about it.

ch-ch-ch-changes

I'm trying so hard not to think. When I think, I feel. And when I feel, I cry. It's like something has dropped out of me. Like my chest is hollow, but still full of something. Something big and heavy. And it hurts me.

What is giong on? Last night, he was in tears wondering if being a pastor iswhat he really wants to do. He hadn't been to classesin nearly a week. Skipping because he felt overwhelmed. Like he was too far behind and wouldn't ever be able to get caught up again. He didn't wantto tell me. He'd flat out lied to me about it the other day. I knew something was wrong, and I kept asking him and asking hem, but he said it was nothing. Turns out it was something.

It's the depression again, I'm almost sure ofit. He feelsdisconnected from the churhc. Disconnected from us, his family. Disconnected from God. We haven't been worshipping together in a few months because of his internship assignment. He's had to go somewhere else every week for church. It's been hard. On all of us. Even Cheeseman wants to know why Daddy isn't going to church with us.

The breakdown came last night. He told me right before we left for Holy Grounds. Said he hasn't been going to classes all week. He wonders if this is really what he is supposed to be doing. Wonders if maybe he should not do the MDiv for ordination. That's fine. As long as he finishes the semester. We've put so much into this. He was going to talk to his professors about getting caught up. He was going to talk to Pastor Kevin about his calling.

Instead, our DS (the local head pastor guy) calls this morning offerring a student pastorship of a church about an hour from our house. It comes with a parsonage. Hubs has an hour to decide. He calls me, and my first instinct is to say no. It's too far, I can't commute that far every morning at 6:30 to be at work on time. Hubs tells him it is just not feasible right now. I can't commute, can't quit my job, it's not gonna happen.

So the DS calls back later in the day and offers him a student pastorship of a church which (I think) is even farther away. In some town I've never even heard of, and I've lived in this area for 16 years now. He'll have to do services on Sundays, and be available Saturdays and for funerals and stuff. I told him to do whatever he wanted.

What a mistake.

He said yes.

Now, I have to leave my home church. My friends. My singing. The kids Sunday school classes and friends. And it makes me want to die inside.

I know that as a pastor's wife, this is my life. Every few years, some DS is going to call us up and say it's time to move on. But you're never really ready for it. And I thought I had a couple more years until it was time. That I could mentally prepare. Extract myself from stuff so it wouldn't be so bad.

Who was I kidding? I don't want to ever leave our church. That is our family! And I know, consciously that God is everywhere, and we will meet perfectly nice people somewhere else, maybe in that new church, but it doesn't make the hurt stop.

It would be different if we were picking up and leaving. Really moving. Then we wouldn't have to still see people. Still drive past the church. Still feel the emptiness. We could make a clean break. I didn't do so well with this the last time, when we went to that church in Camden. I still wanted to be with my old friends. And being with them made the not being there hurt that much worse.

What am I going to do?

Under the Weather

It's fall. The time when a man's fancy turns to thoughts of snuggling naked under a comforter. When my thoughts turn to Where are we going to get the money for daycare? For the mortgage? For the electric/water/phone/cell phone?

Why haven't I heard back from that job I interviewed for where the manager practically had me sign the papers on the spot? I didn't really want to have to work another job until midnight most nights, but when you're looking at losing your house, anything looks good.

Why won't hubs get a job? He just dropped two classes, because he was feeling overwhelmed. Um, hello!? He's got the time. If he could just learn to read faster, or more effectively.

Why do I have to deal with everything? Calling the hospital to set up payment plans. Making sure the bills are paid. Earning the money. Cooking. Cleaning. Doing laundry.

I am so tired. So very tired. I'd like to just curl up in a little ball and go to sleep. But I have to go grade papers. And I have to fill out financial assistance forms. And the DSS forms for food stamps. And the forms to see if we qualify for Medicaid. Because I have no pride anymore. I believe we have hit rock bottom.

It's lonely down here.

Sorry this is so depressing. But I've had a rough time lately. If anyone would like to make donations, please email. I will be happy to send you my address.

I Have a Thinking Problem

What to think, what to think. We had dinner with Pastor R, hubs' mentor. The mentors are seeminly randomly assigned. It happens that Pastor R happens to be the pastor of the church where my mom and her, um, "best friend" go to church. (The "best friend" is a whole different post. I'll go into it later.) She also knows hubs' parents, as they are active in the South Carolina UMC. How fun. She had already met my children also, as they go to church with Nanas sometimes. I was basically the only member of the family she DIDN'T know. Of course, we had to remedy that.

I've had problems with the idea of Pastor R for a while now. She's tried to convince hubs that he should move to Atlanta to go to the "official" Methodist seminary there. She's also told him to really make an effort to balance ministry and family. (Then came the push to move himself to Atl. Is the woman a study in contrasts?) She's also habitually late. For everything. Whenever hubs is supposed to meet with her, she ends up changing the date/time at least once. She's usually then late to the changed date/time. So of course, tonight, she was almost 30 minutes late. We had the kids. In a restaurant. Trying to keep them occupied. It was not pretty. My boys don't do the sit still thing. At all. Sheesh!

So Pastor R finally shows up, and she wants to ask me all the questions: What is the thing that makes you most excited about this new direction? What makes you most nervous? What makes you most excited for your children? What makes you most nervous for them? What would you do if you get assigned to Podunk, SC? What will you do about a job? What will you do if the local schools are sub-par? (We DO live in South Carolina, which is next to last in the nation in school stuff. Thanks for taking last place Mississippi!)

Ummm, what the hell?! What makes me nervous? Moving. Starting over. Making new friends. Being away from my family (mom, sis, etc.). Being a pastor's wife. Playing church politics. The all to real chance that I'll never have a REAL friend again, because they'll be too scared of the whole pastor's wife label. That my kids will grow up shunned and labelled. That they'll never feel good enough, smart enough. That they will inherit their mom's shyness.

Am I excited about this journey? F*CK NO! I don't want to leave behind everything I know! Oh no. Can't say that! That would be the wrong answer, and would make Pastor R think that I'm not 100% behind the hubs. Then she'd write it in some report, and they'd blackball him from the process. So I have some misgivings. Who doesn't, when changing a life completely? And what would she know anyway? She's not married, no kids, nothing. She has no idea what I'm going to face. All she knows is what she's read in articles, or heard secondhand. Please. Could they get us a mentor who at least has been where we are? And one who can tell time?

Enough! I'm going to go do some mindless reading. It's called Specials. It's by Scott Westerfeld. He's good. My students like it, and now I'm hooked. I don't usually like this kind of scifi-ish book. But these are good. Really good. See you!