The suffering and the refrigerator

It is Friday morning, day 4 of no fridge.

I am channeling my inner “Half Pint” as I feel like this must be very close to how life was like for Laura Ingalls Wilder on the wide open prairie in the 1800’s. She was my girlhood heroine, and I feel sure that she and I are somehow connected in this travesty of not having my filtered water easily come out of the spigot in the fridge door and not being able to keep my flavored coffee creamer cold and being forced to schlep on horseback/car the mile down the road to the Dunkin Donuts. I am very proud of my inner pioneer woman at being able to survive this utter travesty of not having refrigeration to keep food cold and not being able to plan for cooked home meals.

(For those of you whose sarcasm font is broken on their device, yes, I am being quite facetious)

The truth is, as much as this is a pain, it is also an opportunity for the kind of intense growth I have been ready for for years.

Learning and growing by breaking out of my comfort zone. By having to stretch to think of newer and better ways to feed my babies and opening my eyes to the fact that we are amazing and resilient through any storm life throws our way. Taking comfort in this fact and realizing I am doing this, I am teaching them how to be functional humans in a world where disappointment is sure to come their way, and showing them how we just handle it. We adjust. We laugh. We think creatively. And we survive. We move forward.

It would not be possible without the generosity of some of my best friends, and some complete strangers.

We have gotten some takeout, and we have been creative with rearranging Kendall’s meds and tpn into her little sterile fridge so we can use the little dorm fridge in the kitchen that allows me to have some eggs and butter and yogurt and a tiny little bottle of creamer, you know, the necessities! And this weekend I think we are getting a fridge that someone is allowing us to use on a temporary basis until we can figure out with Sears how to get our fridge back up and running! It looks like they think our part will be here on October 30th so all told, we won’t be out of commission for TOO long…So in the “suffering” (which i realize is really not that horrible in the face of what some people go through), we are blessed.

We are blessed and we are surviving and we will be ok.

I am discovering through this, through all of this – not just the refrigerator incident – that I am longing to write again.

My voice is in my fingers. Typing out my thoughts and my feelings and my joy and my pain and all of the things I want to say but cannot say out loud. I need to write again, write more, get this all out.

I was talking with Ben the other day, because I felt like it was important to discuss with him the fact that I am compelled to write what I am feeling and going through. And he asked me “Does everyone need to know?” Meaning, does everyone need to know the details of what our marriage, our family has been through the past few years of my relative silence on the blog. And i knew my answer immediately, because it is not about the knowing of the details. The details are not the business of the masses. It is not about what readers need to know, but it is more about what the writer needs to write. It is what I need to say. It is that throughout the journey of my years as a momma, it is always about how can I use these experiences to help others? I have never thought that Kendall’s “suffering” was in vain. I know, with every ounce of my being, that her story is meant to help others. Help other kiddo’s like her get the treatments and meds that have worked and helping other moms who sleep on boxes o bliss and wake up disheveled to attend rounds with squinty puffy eyes from no sleep, and helping other families realize that they can survive the hard times. And now, it is about needing to know that the mistakes *I* made in my marriage – this isn’t about blame assignation or character assassination – can help other wives struggling to find their connection in a crazy busy life.

I don’t need to tell my story to provide gossip fodder, even though I’m very aware it usually does anyways. Silence on a topic is sometimes louder than the actual truth. I am tired of being silent.

I am ready to move into the next chapter of my life, of our life, my girls and me.

coffee blog

Our story may not be linear. I may not go back and start at the beginning. But I will tell my story the best way I know, honoring those in my tribe as best as I can, by showing both their resilience and their strength. That is, after all, the best kind of ending possible. Survival. Strength. Hope.

So we will move forward with these things. To quote the great philosohpizer Tow Mater “I don’t need to know where i’m going, I just need to know where I’ve been.” I don’t know much else than that right now.

I know i’m on day 4 of a killer migraine that nothing is breaking and I know I would rather just start a caffeine IV drip on myself and binge watch some Intervention on the TV.But I have apparently a small army’s worth of dishes and laundry to do so I’m going to go chew on some more ibuprofen and crank some Macklemore and get crap done.

Thank you for being here and for reading my rambles and for being a part of the survival of us with your encouraging words and your gift cards to takeout places. You are all my ambassadors of Quan and i love you.


As soon as this stupid migraine goes away, i’ll be back for more.


Peace out Party People.



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  1. Yup, you’re amazing. “Not what readers need to know, but what the reader needs to write.”–not only that, but that your honesty/transparency is so driven by a love that desires growth for both yourself and others. Also, try (to be ‘safe’ most people insist mixing w carrier oil) schlapping the frankincense all over your face & neck. Idk–call anointing yourself for battle, I do it all the time, now. It does…something!

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