Thick and thin

Food is huge in our house. And I mean HUGE. I like to cook,and Tim likes to eat. We joke how we are chubby people in healthy sized bodies. Everyone in our house is not a picky eater….or so we thought. Until Ryker came along. That boy needs to have bribery just to eat.
Like I was saying, we like food. We BBQ everything during the summer,and make everything homemade during the winter. I have made bread,pasta, and everything baked is homemade. During my little infatuation with Gordan Ramsey I made beef Wellington. For st.Patricks day I made shepherds pie…with mutton.
With Tim and his newfound diagnosis we have to change that. He has to moderate his protein,sodium,potassium,and like always ,keep track of carbs. So that means no more potato salad,or steaks.
When my mother was here, we ran around the store to try to seek out the low protein,sodium foods. What we found was astonishing. Everything was so high in the things that Tim needs to have in moderation. Well everything we can afford with our meager paycheck,and family of 5.
All the foods that were okay for Tim to eat are so out of our price range,that Tim and I might as well do rock paper scissors to determine who eats! Then there is tofu.
I am from Seattle, where everyone drinks coffee, eats veggies they grow,and wears hemp clothes. We are down to earth,free loving, highly caffeinated 21st century hippies. I love that about Seattle. I just never crossed into the whole, only organic/tofu loving part.
Tofu. The word just makes me grab for my high processed Oreos. We don’t do canned food, nor do we do boxed meals….well we have on occasion but come on, do you know my life? The running around carrying three screaming kids,while fetching Tim a soda,while I do an oil change. Alright I may be exaggerating slightly…but only slightly.
Still the idea that one of us has to give up pork chops,or bacon wrapped sirloin,and mashed potatoes with real cream for tofu darn near breaks my heart. Tofu. Honestly if it wasn’t a matter of life and death here I would say screw it,eat what you want.
You see Tim has always brought in more money then me. Not that it is a competition,(it is btw),but food was my way of saying to my family ” sorry the house is a mess and sorry mommy has been busy,but here is some stir fry because I love you”. I can’t just run to the Apple store to buy Ariana the coolest gadget, so I cook, and I cook well. Come to think of it,children don’t need Apple products anyway. But if any kids deserve to have the best it would be mine.
Ariana has been my side kick since the day I became pregnant with her. She is my rock star in the car with the top down .She is my mermaid at the pool,and my shopping buddy. Ariana is my all around pal. She is the most helpful child I have ever known. My gift from God.
Ari has on more then one occasion called the paramedics when Tim has dropped too low. She has saved his life. For the bravery and intuition of my daughter I am forever grateful. If I could serve her the world on a silver platter,I would and then some. She is ever so deserving.
She helps me with the boys, and all household chores. She sweeps,mops, changes diapers, and grows her garden. One Christmas,our first in Arizona, we made this huge dinner, ham, turkey, mashed potatoes, the works. Well ,we had never had a garbage disposal before.So we dumped all the potato peels down it. Apparently this is a no no. I decided to pour bleach down the drain…. That didn’t help. We ended up taking the sink apart spilling water all over my kitchen. Ari was with me the whole time, both of us wading in water. We had a blast, slipping through the mess.She has always been there. Through thick and thin.

Truth

Truth
I want you all to know how angry I actually am. I tend to have a temper. I tend to be quick to anger about the little things,getting cut off, having their person in front of me at the grocery store take nine years to hand over their printed coupons,having my dryer use two cycle to dry clothes. I am easily irritated. This anger is different. I can’t say something insulting under my breath, or speed up around this. I cannot do anything.
When ‘Friends’ was on television I used to joke how I was Monica. Because she was over the top about everything,and a tad controlling. That’s me. It may not show in my children.or my house,but I like to have things done my way. Not that I always know best,but it makes my life easier. We joke that Tim was Joey because when we first started dating he had a reputation. I soon found out his reputation was wrong but the joke had been set in stone. I was the overbearing Monica,and Tim was the guy who got the girls.
Tim says he did get the girl. He got me. I am not sure of that is such a prize,but he seems to be okay with the outcome. We married in December 2005, in his dads back yard. It was cold,but not bone chilling Washington damp cold. He wore this nice suit with a grey shirt,and wine tie. Those are the colors that have been staples in our life. We are trying to do our kitchen in those colors,we painted my eclipse wine,my cell phones are normally wine, I only paint my toes wine,our bedroom will one day have a wine accent wall, my beloved laptop is wine. We have a theme. Our love is everywhere.
Our wedding was simple, we had a few guests ,only those who were important. Our mutual best friend Andy came,he is the one who introduced us. I am forever grateful to him. During our vows Ariana ,who was two at the time,walked across the frozen pool ,causing a panic throughout the ceremony. Tim did not only marry me,he said vows to Ari.
Our vows were the same as everyone else’s . He vowed to love ,and hold me through sickness,health,better,worse,richer,and poorer. I had no clue what that really meant when it comes to Tim. We ended up being richer for a few months once back in 2007. Then like clockwork our luck ran out and we were thrown into sicker and poorer.
He went blind that year,and lost his toe. Then the bout of depression hit our home with such a vengeance I thought for sure he would die. We fought,like animals. Accusations of infidelity streamed from family,lack of money ravaged our home, all the while keeping pretty faces for Ari. It was chaos. Our actions towards each other broke us down.
In November of 2008 ,after countless calls to family saying that I want to leave,Tim asked me to runaway with him. So I did. Maybe just maybe if I could get out of Washington I could break free from this vicious cycle of hate.
When we arrived into Arizona we had the world at our finger tips. Our love was renewed. We became best friends. I come home from whatever errands I run that day, or work to curl up in his lap. Honestly no matter where his lap is,or where we are, his lap is my favorite place. We fit together perfectly. As long as I can come home and curl up there everything is okay.
My anger lately is not anyone’s fault,other then mine. I am lived. Absolutely angry that, here I have found the man I knew he could be,and I have made efforts to be the wife he deserves, and possibly might not have him much longer. Ariana loves him, she wants to be a Lomax,and now I feel as if it is all in vain. All those years of fighting each other to stay together,all the time wasted on petty disagreements,all the venom we shot at each other.
I feel jilted. I know life is not fair. I know other people my age and younger have lost their husbands. I got it ok? But it doesn’t make this easier. Stupid statistics do not make this ok,or normal. Nothing really can be said or done to make this ok. All I really wanted was my best friend to stick with me. I wanted Tim and I to carry out our vows without having to discuss funeral flowers before I was 30. I am pissed. He promised me that he would be here with me. He promised.
Stupid diabetes,stupid kidneys. I hate all this. He is trying to be helpful and pre plan his funeral,as if it is some party. He just doesn’t want me making too many decisions when quite honestly I will probably not want to answer my phone. I don’t want to hear it, I don’t care what music,or box,or who says what. But I have to shut my mouth and be the good wife who is listening her husband plan his own funeral. It helps him to know,that I won’t have one more responsibility. But I don’t care,I don’t want to hear it.