family

I’m not sure there’s any other way

She said: I find myself falling apart and angry as my husband is confronting childhood trauma and addiction issues—it’s been so much stress on me and I’m barely hanging on.

I know it feels like all your time and resources are being directed at his stuff, but, if you can, please find a therapist. You were not made to handle this on your own. If you want to survive this too, you need your own help. I would not have survived without therapy. Our relationship would not have survived without me in therapy.

It feels infuriating that early sobriety (from anything) is five years. Because it is so long and exhausting. But it’s true. Addiction layers go deep and the minute you feel like you’re making progress, something else comes to the surface.

Remember this is a marathon, not a sprint. Also, addicted brains have coped with trauma and pain and abuse by hiding it. Addiction is a way for us to avoid looking at the things that are screaming for our attention. The longer someone is clean and sober, the more our brains remember. It takes time. Healing takes so much time.

And you never know what will trigger things that were hidden.

Recently, Chris’ maternal grandpa died. Chris hasn’t been in contacting with his mom since November 2017. I’ve written—in some general ways—about his childhood, but let’s just say it was awful. He grew up in a home full of abuse, secrets, mental illness, and shame. He no longer speaks to either of his parents. In the beginning on his estrangement from his mom, there was hope she would get the help she needed. Unfortunately, as time passes, she seems to be getting worse instead of better. (We’re still in relationship with his brother and sister and families; this isn’t the time, but it’s also important to say that when one sibling leaves a family full of abuse, the guilt about leaving the others behind and unprotected—no matter how old you are—is real.)

The bottom line is Chris’ sobriety is more important than keeping his parents happy. He is not required to ruin his own life to be in theirs. (And plot twist: they are never happy; they are victims always and forever. So even in relationship with them, they would be unhappy. They do not have the ability to be happy or the self-awareness to get the help to figure out why that is, so any guilt Chris has about their unhappiness is a catch-22. He is not the answer to their problems, but it’s easier to say that than take responsibility for their own actions and lives.)

ANYWAY. Chris’ grandpa died and we were talking about the funeral. Chris decided we wouldn’t go because he didn’t want to see his mom. Drawing any attention to himself at his grandpa’s funeral felt gross. We sent flowers and he called his grandma instead.

He doesn’t call his grandma often because she refuses to respect the boundary he’s set around their conversations. He doesn’t want to talk about his mom with her. No matter how many times he explains that, she insists on trying to guilt and shame him into calling his mom. She can’t have a normal conversation with him, she’s so intent on manipulating him.

(There are two reasons this could be happening: 1. She hasn’t been told the truth about why Chris is no longer in relationship with his mom. This is a bad sign because it means his mom is not taking responsibility for her dangerous actions. To change, heal, and reconcile, you first have to admit what you’ve done. 2. She knows the truth and doesn’t care. That’s a bad sign because, well, child abuse and secrets and the things that went on in that house were not okay. She should not be okay with them.)

So Chris can’t call his grandma very often. He has stated his boundary, she keeps ignoring it, and so he doesn’t call. It’s madness to keep allowing people to overstep a necessary, life-saving boundary you’ve made. People tell you who they are. We’ve got to stop pretending we don’t see it.

So death and family communication happens and, as always, it kicks up the dirt in Chris’ life. Some things shift and poke out, some things re-emerge. And his almost-four-years-sober brain lets some new stuff tumble out.

He tells me new things he’s remembering, things that have been haunting him when he’s awake and showing up in his nightmares.

And they are horrible.

I hate his parents all over again. Hate what they did. Hate what they allowed. Hate what they hid.

But he doesn’t hate them. He’s resigned and sad and grieves his childhood. But he’s not angry anymore. He’s thankful he survived. He’s thankful he doesn’t have to worry about them anymore. He’s thankful he can say the things out loud and not be immediately overwhelmed with shame. He’s thankful he doesn’t need to handle the memories with alcohol or drugs or hiding.

And, truthfully, I hate his parents only briefly. My anger doesn’t stick around like it used to. At some point, nothing shocks you, but also, I’m tired of being angry. Anger is a heavy weight to carry.

Chris is safe now.
He is loved.
He is cared for.
He is seen.
He is safe.
He is safe.
He is safe.
And he is clean and sober.

It took years to get here. And he is not done. This work will be for the rest of his life. But there are more good days than bad now.

But we had to get through a string of about 700 bad days to get here.

So what I want to tell you is keep going. As long as you are seeing progress and healing and change, keep going. It will not always be like this. It will not always feel like this. It will not always hurt so much.

But you can’t skip this pet either. You have to go through it—feel all of it—get angry and sad at every single part. Then you slowly come out the other side.

But do not avoid it. You’ll need it for the days—four years later—when a new heartbreaking secret tumbles out. You’ll need it because then you’ll have firmer ground to stand on, better coping mechanisms, and a more tender heart.

I am sorry it hurts so much right now. It will not be like this forever even though it’s hard to imagine anything else. Please take care of yourself. Find a therapist. Be patient and kind with yourself.

It’s okay if you’re falling apart. I’m not sure there’s any other way.

in the mountains of North Carolina

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: we don’t take for granted that during a pandemic we’ve able to still travel and explore with our camper.

COVID-19 changed the way we travel: no wandering around a gas station to stretch our legs or buy junk food, restroom breaks in the camper, no eating inside restaurants even though we really want to. We skip touristy things we might have visited in the past.

We are a pretty self-contained little caravan. Camp in the forest, hike with masks in case we pass others, and bring our own food.

Even with all the changes, fall break in the North Carolina mountains was perfect.

We arrived Saturday afternoon to Lazy J Campground. Over five years of camping with a travel trailer has brought us a wide variety of campground experiences. We tend to stay away from places that have long-term camping; we’ve learned those places aren’t where we like to be. Truthfully, if I had seen Lazy J ahead of time, I wouldn’t have made a reservation. I’m so glad I didn’t see it though, because we would have missed out on some pretty great rustic camping.

Our lot was wooded and secluded; we could hear the French Broad River as we sat outside; we were near all the places we wanted to be. If you wanted a weekend in a tent, this would be a pretty great spot too. This is a low-frills campground; don’t expect nice bathrooms, wifi, or a place to do laundry. You’re paying for a spot and that’s it. (It’s $30/night for full hookups which is crazy cheap. We’re used to paying around $60/night for most places.) The lack of amenities was fine for us since we shower in our camper, but we only packed enough clothes for six days, because I normally do a load or two of laundry if we’re gone for more than a week. Probably more information than you need, but the socks and underpants situation got dire near the end of our trip because I didn’t do laundry as planned.

Sunday we spent the day exploring the Pisgah National Forest. Our campground was right on the border of the forest and driving through the park for trails was fun. The Cradle of Forestry was worth the $6/person visit. We got to see the nation’s first forestry school and the grounds where the foundations for America’s forestry programs were laid. The CoF also has paved walking trails on 1-3 mile loops if accessibility is a concern.

After exploring all day, we had a movie night at home. A Redbox and boxes of movie candy and popcorn with the windows open as the cool mountain air blew through was the best way to end the day.

Monday was my birthday. We took a 3-hour morning hike to a waterfall we never found. Happy birthday to meeeee. It was fine; it was a beautiful hike even if Harper cried for most of it.

We drove the Blue Ridge Parkway and stopped at lookouts as long as others weren’t around. I know I’m not the first person to say this, but the BRP is breathtaking. The fall leaves were unbelievable. It feels like you’re driving in a movie that never ends.

We got sushi takeout for an early dinner. We rely on Yelp a lot when we travel; we try to eat local when visiting a place and Yelp said Sora Japanese was a good stop. I agree. First time eating sushi on a picnic table at the camper; we so fancy.

After dinner, we had a game night. I bought two new games for the trip: Uno Flip and Monopoly Deal. The girls loved Uno Flip so much we never even opened Monopoly Deal. They played it every day, multiple times a day.

Tuesday we drove into Asheville. It was about a 45-minute drive from the campground. The girls shopped at Dancing Bear Toys, we walked around the downtown shops, we picked out treats for the dogs at Patton Ave. Pet Co., and Chris Graham bought a new pipe and tobacco at the Carolina Cigar Company. There were a few stores downtown that had signs restricting out-of-state customers. One was a bookstore we really wanted to visit, but I understand the majority of people traveling right now might also be the people who aren’t making choices to keep others safe. This was the first trip we’ve ever taken without a bookstore stop. Sad trombone.

On our way out of Asheville, we stopped for a late lunch at Moe’s BBQ. It was our 14th wedding anniversary, and we knew we wanted to eat some Carolina BBQ to celebrate. We ordered Moe’s to go then sat on their patio. The weather was sunny and perfect, the BBQ was amazing, and Harper declared Moe’s her second favorite restaurant of all time. (First favorite is City BBQ.)

Once our bellies were full, we left the city and headed to DuPont State Forest. We did the Triple Falls Loop to see where they filmed part of the first Hunger Games movie. This late afternoon hike was full of stuff to see, places to get into the cold water, and not a lot of people.

Wednesday we spent a lazy morning at the camper. Chris slept in, I drank lots of coffee, and the girls played on the dangerous old slides the campground had. Mid-morning we left the girls on iPads and took the dogs on a hike a few miles up the road. They loved it; Mac has boundless energy and no fear. Blue is more timid and cautious. They both traipsed through the river and swam in the cold, cold water.

After lunch, we drove a few minutes down the road to Headwaters Outfitters. We rented kayaks, and they dropped us off on the French Broad River for a 3-hour trip. The river was cold and clear. We made reservations for Wednesday, knowing it would be the warmest day all week, so we enjoyed mid-70s and clear skies as we manned the river. The section we were on is Class A, so it was a pretty calm, manageable trip. There was enough current to keep you going without too much effort. I’m not sure we could have asked for a better afternoon on the river.

We finished up the day with more rounds of Uno Flip and Gin Rummy. (I won, thank you.)

Thursday we spent the day at the Biltmore Estate. This was the most peopley part of our trip, and I was a little anxious it would feel too crowded and unsafe. But the Biltmore was ready: limiting attendance, hand sanitizer stations everywhere, constantly reminding people to leave space between groups, and firmly telling every person wearing a mask below their nose to cover up or leave. (This is my dream, to be able to tell people how dumb they look wearing a mask that doesn’t cover their nose. I’m not saying it’s a good dream, but it’s a dream.)

If you’re going, especially in the fall, buy tickets in advance. I bought them a few weeks before we left and tour times were already slim. Nine and under are free, so don’t buy your nine year old a ticket like I did. (They gave me a refund at will call when I picked them up, but they didn’t have to. It’s all over the website that refunds and transfers are not allowed. It was very kind of them to do it anyway.) We knew we were going to visit the Biltmore so I was prepared for the ridiculous tickets even though it still killed me to buy them. We spent all day touring the grounds, house, and buildings. I don’t regret spending the money, but I understand how it also feels really crazy to spend that much money on tickets. We packed a lunch and ate there; you could spend hundreds of dollars eating a nice meal at one of their farm-to-table restaurants, but we chose to spend $30 on three ice cream cones instead.

Whew.

Friday we slept in, had biscuits and gravy, and packed up the campsite. Around noon we headed toward home. We made it to Norris Lake in Tennessee and stayed the night at Mountain Lake Marina and Campground. It was just a place to sleep, but I’m not sure I’d pick that campground again. It was full of long-term campers, you had to walk ten minutes to the dumpster to get rid of trash, and our view was crappy. Obviously, we don’t own a boat and so a marina campground isn’t the place for us anyway. But Norris Lake is amazing; we camped there years ago with friends and loved the long weekend.

Saturday afternoon we pulled into home dirty, tired, and happy. I love traveling and exploring, but I really love coming home too. On this trip, we reminded the girls a few times how this fall and winter might be hard with the pandemic so we were grateful for the traveling we got to do and the things we got to experience. Infection rates in Indiana (and many other states) are spiking so we’re mentally preparing for schools to be shut down again. We’re not trick-or-treating this year; the girls are okay with it, and I’ve promised to make the 31st a day full of fun, but it still stinks that so much of what we’re experiencing now could have been avoided.

I think it’s time to winterize the camper. We thought about camping a few times in November, but we’ve got a summer porch project to wrap up, a few more trees to cut down in our yard, and a garden to ready for winter. This was probably the last trip of 2020 for the Grahams. Definitely ending on a high note.

DISCLOSURE: AFFILIATE LINKS USED.

I’m always looking for food ideas when we camp. Below is the meal plan for the trip. We were gone 9 days and I planned food for 6 days. With leftovers and a few meals out, 6 days worth of food was more than enough food. (We don’t cook too much over the fire; no one has time for that. We have a grill and an electric skillet. I do most of the cooking outside on a table, but the fire is mostly for warmth, hot dogs, and s’mores.)

Breakfast:
-cereal x2
-waffles/French toast sticks
-bacon, eggs, and fruit
-biscuits and gravy
-banana bread and yogurt with granola
-Poptarts

Lunch:
-charcuterie board x2
-sub sandwiches
-salads
-dinner leftovers x2

Dinner:
-tomato soup and grilled cheese
-chili dogs
-Crockpot pulled pork sliders
-grilled hamburgers
-walking tacos
-broccoli cheddar soup and grilled turkey sandwiches

It changes the way you vote

My dad told me he regretted paying for my college. He said this because he saw my college education at a secular school as the gateway to political beliefs that no longer match up with his.

He’s never had a real conversation with me about what I believe or why. Or how much my faith–not my college degrees–has to do with how I vote the way I do.

It’s really not a conversation we can ever have, it’s not safe or respectful. It will do more damage than good so I’m not interested in having it with him.
But I would like to have it with you.

I entered undergrad and exited undergrad voting the exact same way. If I didn’t know anything about a candidate on the ticket–normally for a local election– I left it blank. I understood the importance of carefully voting after research, but I voted similar to my parents.

After college, I interviewed at a few schools for a teaching position. I interviewed at a private, Lutheran high school where the principal called me later and said he thought I was meant to work with a different type of population than his private school kids.

I agreed.

I found my way to a school district less than 15 minutes from where I grew up. It was close to my White community, but not very White. Kids came from government housing and apartments. We had a high rate of free and reduced lunches, a term I didn’t know as a student, but knew well as a teacher.

Here’s what happened when I spent ten years teaching kids who, for the most part, lived and looked very different from me:

I started to learn that many of my political views directly hurt my students and their families. I saw firsthand how lack of medical care influenced their learning. How costly childcare meant they often cared for siblings in the evenings instead of doing my homework. I witnessed kids in foster homes that hurt them more than helped them. I had more than one student miss first period, because they needed to use the locker room showers to bathe and brush their teeth. I had parents skip parent-teacher conferences because they couldn’t miss work, no matter how much they cared about their child’s education. I learned some kids don’t celebrate Christmas in December; they celebrate it when the tax return comes in February because that’s the only time they have extra money.

Teaching kids who didn’t live the same life I did made me start questioning a lot of my beliefs. It didn’t make me more confident in the way I was taught, it made me start to realize something in my thinking was wrong.

I see the need for some people, especially Christians, to want their kids to go to Christian colleges. On the surface, it sounds safe and insular. Christians are taught to fear the big bad world outside their door. They’re taught people who don’t think like them were made specifically to trip them up.

This isn’t an actual Biblical principle—the Bible doesn’t mention college or higher learning once. It also doesn’t mention sticking to the people and places we feel most comfortable with. But we’ve been able to twist His words enough to make it sound like being around people only like us can keep us the safest. We’ve disregarded the parts of the Bible that tell us to be salt and light and latched onto the lie that safe and comfortable is the reward for following Christ. A reward we should reap in the here and now.

I went to a secular college and somehow managed to not sleep with 400 people, get pregnant, do drugs, or become a prostitute. I know this might shock the church people. My husband spent a semester at a Christian college, dropped out, then came home to begin a 15 year+ drug and alcohol addiction.

Plot twist.

I’d say our responses to college have more to do with family life, trauma, support systems, and mental health than the “good” or “bad” college we went to.

That’s the same with so many of my students. Their responses to their environments weren’t based on their education or lack of, it was based on their family life, trauma, support systems, and mental health.

Because when we don’t have to worry about basic needs like food, shelter, and safety, we are able to do more things, able to make better choices, able to be more successful in relationships and careers.

So I began to vote in a way that matched with my evolving belief: if we want better citizens, maybe we should create better lives.

That means I vote for:

Healthcare for all
Affordable mental health access
Fair wages
Abolishment of the death penalty
More taxes on the wealthy
A more equal distribution of wealth
Freedom to make choices about my body
Affordable childcare
Care for immigrants
Legislation guided by science and data
An end to privatized prisons and mass incarceration

If I believe all humans are created in the image of God—imago Dei—I vote for their respect and care and benefit.

I was trying to educate kids in an environment set up to fail. We expect schools to fix all of society’s problems instead of understanding school is just a reflect of society. If we want healthier, engaged kids to show up at school every day, we have to start by fixing things outside of school.
Schools reflect their community, not the other way around.

My college degrees didn’t change my voting habits, getting to know people who were different than me did. Suffering and injustice is easy to ignore when you don’t know anyone who doesn’t have the exact same problems as you. If you’ve never been hungry, you don’t understand what someone will do for food. If you’ve never experienced housing instability, you don’t know how far someone would go to have a safe place to sleep.

These are not character flaws. They are basic human needs we all have. And we are failing large, vulnerable groups of people by the way some of us vote.

I’ve had lots of conversations with people who can’t imagine giving people something they didn’t earn. “I work for my things and so should everyone else.”

If we all started on a level playing field, that might make sense. If we all started off in safe homes with plenty of food to eat and clean clothes to wear, maybe that would work. If we all had loving, healthy parents to protect us and guide us. If we all had homes where drugs weren’t present, where addiction wasn’t lurking, where we learn healthy self-esteem instead of how to carry our parents wounds.

If only.

And until that happens, we look for the people who need help and we help them. Will there always be the people who take advantage of the help? Of course. But we help anyway. We can’t control what other people do, but we can also not actively make choices to hurt them more.

Last year, my Thursday morning Bible study girls and I read through the Gospels. We learned a lot about Jesus, obviously. Sometimes we read the same story repeatedly and that was a little annoying, but that’s just my need for efficiency getting in the way. Reading the same stories, especially from different perspectives, often taught us new things about Jesus and following him. The point was the story-—of course—but the point was also the different perspectives. We saw new or different things when we read the same event from a different author. We saw different details, different parts of the same truth.

We have to have different perspectives, different points of view, different accounts. We have to have people who live differently than us, who grew up differently, who see life differently. Because it changes us. It makes us kinder and more aware and more merciful and more generous. We have to know how others live, what they struggle with, what hurts their hearts, and what keeps them up at night.

We have to know things outside our bubbles. It’s the way Jesus lived, and it’s the way his followers have to also. When we sit with the woman at the well, dine with the tax collector, or touch the sick, it changes us. It shapes our hearts to be more like his in a way surrounding ourselves with people who only look and live like us doesn’t.

We lead sheltered lives because we believe it keeps us safe, but really it just keeps us away from the suffering of others. We tithe our ten percent and trust the church to do some charity work instead of finding people who are worth being friends with and then meeting needs when you see them. (And realizing others can help meet our needs too; we are all needy in one way or another.) We sweep into situations trying to save people instead of just being with them. And we do it while failing to acknowledge we also need saving.

I’ve spent a lot of my thirties around addicts and alcoholics. I sleep in the same bed as one; I’ve sat at tables with them during rehab visits; I meet them in the stories my husband shares; I shake hands with them at AA meetings; I welcome them into my home. This is a world very different from the one in my twenties. I got pushed out of that comfort zone kicking and screaming when I realized the issues Chris had brought to our marriage. Learning about addiction showed me programs and laws and rules and facilities set up to help some people and punish others. I got to witness firsthand how the world handles sick people we don’t deem worthy of grace, mercy, or respect because of their disease.

I got to see hurting people who have to rely on the help and support of others to survive. I got to be a hurting person who had to rely on the help and support of others to survive. That changes your heart, your understanding of what mercy is, your awareness of who God is.

And it changes the way you vote.

My college education didn’t make me more liberal, as my father has inferred. It didn’t teach me to vote for socialism or Marxism or any of the other terms people like to throw around but don’t really understand. What changed my political views was Jesus and relationships and compassion and hurting people and reading the Bible to learn better ways as opposed to find support for the ways I already believed. What changed my heart was praying “Lord, break my heart for what breaks yours” then following that pain to people.

If we are Christians, the goal of wisdom and maturity tells us we will continue to get uncomfortable with our beliefs, continually be changed and challenged to be more like Jesus, and continually see areas of our dark hearts that need Jesus. If instead, in aging, we’ve found hard hearts, a political home with no wiggle room, and easy answers to every question, we have failed our God, we have left Him behind. We have created a new god, one who closely mirrors us.

Reading about the life of Jesus can be frustrating because so often he answered peoples’ questions with other questions. JESUS, JUST TELL US THE ANSWER, I want to scream during my morning quiet time. Give me black and white so I can feel secure and doubtless in my faith.

Time and time again, I’m reminded Jesus is often found in the gray, in the questions not the answers, in the faith to continue for the next moment, not the next five years. He is found in loving people well even when it doesn’t make sense, when they don’t deserve it. He is found on the other side of fear and scarcity. He is found in generosity and open hands and trusting that He will take care of all of us, not just some of us. He is found in the places the world tells us we shouldn’t go and with people the world says aren’t important.

And if that’s where I find Jesus, that’s how I vote too.

1096 days

Thanks for taking me to the hospital three years ago, he said as we sat on the couch.

He was watching football. I was reading a book with my feet in his lap.

You’re welcome, I said as I turned back to my book, and he turned back to the TV.

Today is the three-year anniversary of my husband being clean and sober. Three years of therapy, AA meetings, growing, healing, and learning. This is the first anniversary that hasn’t felt precarious. The first time in years it hasn’t felt like a bittersweet celebration, with excitement and fear, hope and reservations.

I’ve been trying to work out what I wanted to say about this milestone, but I don’t have a clear post for you. I guess I just have snippets.

Last week I was on my morning walk when I passed an empty Coca-Cola can on the side of the road. Bright red against the drying grass in the ditch, I knew it wasn’t there yesterday. This was fresh litter. My very first thought was should I pick this up and smell it for alcohol? My first thought was it was Chris’. My first thought was he’d thrown it out on his way home the day before.

Trauma is weird, because it bombards you with thoughts and feelings and emotions before you even have time to know what’s happening, before you know it’s there.

I knew I wasn’t going to pick up that can. Gross. I knew hundreds of people drove this road, not just Chris. I knew lots of people drink Coke, not just my husband.

My thoughts weren’t rational. I didn’t have other things happening at home that made this discarded can confirm my suspicions. It was just a can and my mind—without my consent—went to the scariest story.

Healing is slow for Chris. It is slow for me.

Last winter Chris’ counselor suggested he do brainspotting. Brainspotting is “a treatment method that identifies, processes, and releases core neurophysiological sources of emotional/body pain, [and] trauma…” The idea is you can go back to the memories your brain has stored–maybe some you can’t even access completely–and rewire your response to them. For Chris, it meant going back to the abuse he suffered as a child and handled with his child-brain. Using the safety and security his adult-brain now has, he gets to use better coping mechanisms and heal from the situations.

Adult you goes back to kid you and tells you you’re okay, that the things happening to you aren’t your fault.

It sounds crazy, but it’s not. God, in His infinite wisdom, made our brains to keep us safe. It’s where fight, flight, or freeze comes from. It’s also why sometimes our brains hide things from us; our well-designed brains know we are not equipped (for whatever reason) to handle what we’ve experienced.

But our bodies and brains don’t forget what has happened. We live in the response and consequence of those things. And one day—if we’re lucky—we’ll have healthy, patient people who help us handle the things that shouldn’t have happened to us.

For the first time in years—as Chris went through brainspotting—he wanted to drink again. The farther way he gets from his drinking, the less appeal it has. But looking directly at the moments and places that broke your little kid self is exhausting. For Chris, it brought back intense feelings of loneliness. And loneliness is what caused him to drink. When you grow up in a home that doesn’t tell you you’re important or valued or worth keeping safe, it’s hard to learn a different story when you’re older. So every time Adult Chris had a negative experience (things we all have every day), it reinforced the lie that he wasn’t wanted or worth anything.

And if you believe you’re not worth anything, you can’t make good choices for your body, your future, or your life.

Working through months of brainspotting and painful childhood memories sober was challenging. Addicts and alcoholics don’t like to feel their feelings (that’s the whole point of using), so feeling everything that came up and not muting it was some of the hardest work I’ve seen Chris do.

But he did it. He remembered the things done to him. He remembered the people who covered it up. He remembered the loneliness.

And he stayed sober.

I’m just checking on you, man, because we’re a bunch of liars, Chris said into his phone this weekend. He was talking to a fellow drunk, someone he’s sponsoring in AA.

A few years ago, this would have made me cringe. Telling the truth is so foundational to my being, it feels like a personal attack to know someone has lied. I tell the truth even when it’s to my own detriment.

I know lying says more about the liar than the listener. The lies tell others what we want to protect. They tell others about the secrets we have, about the shame.

I am remembering that more easily now, with less internal crisis, than I was a few years ago.

Lies always have benefits for someone. An old friend lied about me to others, because it sowed division and made others less likely to ask me about the stories she was creating. Liars manipulate people to control the narrative. Chris’ mom lied to family and friends, because it kept people from realizing the truth of what she was allowing at home, the dangerous environment she was helping to protect. Lies keep selfish people safe. A friend’s husband admitted to making up things I’d said to save his marriage. He apologized to me, but said he wasn’t going to stop telling those stories. Liars love stories to save themselves no matter what the cost. Addicts and alcoholics lie. They lie to keep their secrets secret, to keep their needs hidden, to keep their pain covered up.

Recovery is freedom from lies.

It’s amazing the time and energy you have to do other things when you’re not so wrapped up in keeping all your stories straight, making sure your victims don’t cross paths and share stories, living a life you don’t have to hide from people.

Chris walks lighter these days. He still drags his feet like a child. He still ignores me when I tell him to pick them up. But the walk is lighter nonetheless.

After Chris came home from rehab, I asked my therapist when things would get easier. His recovery, learning boundaries, removing the dangerous people in our lives: how long does it feel so overwhelming and hard?

It takes a few years, she said.

Absolutely not, I thought. This is not sustainable. We will not survive at this level of upheaval for so long. Maybe giving up is easier.

But here we are at the three year mark, after a quiet, amazingly easy summer. This was the first summer we didn’t live so fully in the consequences of Chris’ bad choices. This was the first summer we weren’t taking two steps forward and one step back. Recovery is slow. So is building a new life.

I get asked a lot how I knew to stay. What made me not give up?

My answer has two parts:
1. I stayed, because Chris stopped drinking. If he was going to continue numbing his life using drugs or alcohol, I wasn’t going to.
2. I stayed, because we were slowly-but-surely always moving forward. We were (and are) inching toward healing and honesty and better conversations and less co-dependency. I stayed, because he kept up his part of the bargain. The minute Chris got comfortable with where he was, I knew he’d start using again. When he got lazy in his recovery, he was going to get lazy in his choices.

And, of course, Jesus. The AA mantra is “one day at a time,” but I think they stole it from Jesus. He constantly re-centers me: I cannot fix the past, I cannot control the future, but I can make wise, loving choices right here and now.

And so I do.

And so does Chris.

And here we are.

end-of-summer yard

We’re sleeping with the windows open now, crisp air coming in through the screens and complaints from my daughters that it’s too cool in the mornings going out.

I thought the outside construction and building and staining would be most loved in the summer. I sat under the new porch and worked while the girls swam and played. I spent mornings underneath the kitchen window, checking the cushions for frogs before I sat down. In the evening, after dinner, I’d find my way back outside while Chris cleaned up dinner.

But fall is here and outside is still my favorite; maybe fall is best for porches.

The new roof we built sits under the girls’ windows. They climbed out that first day it was up, excited to sit as people added roofing paper and shingles around them. In my head, I thought this might be a bad idea in a few years.

I hope they don’t make me regret my new porch.

I’ve started dragging a blanket outside after I wake up. Hot coffee and crickets to greet the morning.

My garden has begun browning, the tomatillos slowly sinking to the ground and tomatoes trying to eek out one last hoorah. I planted a fall garden for the first time ever: snow peas and bush beans. I’m only mildly committed to their growth. My freezers are full; my friends are tired of getting deliveries from me; I could not eat another cucumber if my life depended on it.

We are mostly still staying home and staying away. Chris goes to work. The girls go to school. I go downstairs to my office to write. We haven’t stepped foot in a restaurant since early March. I miss coffee shops for writing and people watching. I miss lunch with friends and stopping for Mexican food on the way home from camping trips.

I have never been more thankful for our camper, for the easy, safe way we can go without coming in contact with others.

We’re still taking the pandemic very serious. I can’t imagine future generations asking me what we did in 2020 and answering that it didn’t really impact our daily lives much. We are mourning and grieving and angry about so many things.

We have hammocks in the backyard for Sunday afternoon naps. We ended up with a pool this summer, and it has saved us many times. I have sun-kissed girls running around the yard barefoot. They are best friends one minute, mortal enemies the next.

It’s dark when I get up now. I tiptoe downstairs each morning even though the dogs stomp down behind me and if anyone was going to wake up, it’s not going to be because of my footsteps. I still tiptoe.

Sometimes Chris has to be at work at 5 AM, but there is still coffee waiting for me when I come into the kitchen. He makes it even though I say he doesn’t have to. I think at the end of my life, if you ask me how I knew Chris Graham loved me, the answer will be: coffee when he didn’t have to.

I drained the pool last weekend. I tried to funnel the water to the line of hostas I planted along the field, begging them to stay green and full just a little bit longer.

Our apple trees–dying since we moved here–have officially given up. In the coming weeks, we’ll cut them down and have apple wood for fires. I don’t know if I need to walk across the street to the cemetery and give my grandpa a heads up that we’re cutting down his apple trees. It feels courteous.

In the spring, my husband built a bird feeder with scrap wood from the garage. He’s lovingly filled it all season, excited to see birds enjoying the condo he designed for them. This isn’t an important story except to say we have a little squirrel friend who also enjoys the bird feeder. He’s very small. I bet he could fit in the palm of my hand. Chris despises him. The squirrel and my husband are at war.

I don’t make the squirrel leave when I see him snacking. I tell him he’s welcome to eat here.

I wonder, at the end of his life, if you ask Chris how he knew I loved him, the answer will be: she didn’t, remember that squirrel?

The fields behind our house had beans this year. I always forget what it’s time for until the crop starts growing. I like corn years better, it makes our backyard feel like a cocoon. But beans are okay, too, I guess. They’re drying out, turning yellow. Soon, the field will be empty, and we’ll see deer on the hills.

Someone asked me this summer if I’m still writing.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

I am writing all the time. I am writing and gathering.

This summer, in my head, I’ve written about:
what my compost bin is teaching me
why you shouldn’t watch the news
the prisms we hung in the living room windows
how to get rid of “friends” on facebook you really don’t like
a story about the bees coming to the flowers I planted for them
peoples’ houses I go by each morning on my walk
the best roasted tomatillo salsa recipe in the world
anxiety and anger
what healing feels like
why bookshelves should be filled with books and not decor
‘Somebody Feed Phil’
fallen heroes
a drama about the hummingbirds outside the kitchen door

And that was just last week.

Yes, I’m still writing.

For me, there are seasons for writing and there are seasons for preparing to write. I’ve been preparing to write for a while now.

Maybe I’ll be writing again soon.

Social distancing: week seven (April 26-May 2)

I’m writing this weeks after the fact, but I’m determined to document eight weeks of our stay-at-home life. I promised myself I’d write eight weeks worth of posts so I could look back on this later, and I always finish what I start. It’s a curse.

About five weeks after I set it up, I took down the table we had in my office for the girls to do school work at. They’ve been slowly migrating away from my office into the family room, to the couch, on the floor with the dogs, and the table was just taking up space. So it’s gone and it feels nice.

We’re in a pretty good routine. The girls know how to fill their days, when to focus on school work, and when to run around outside like wild animals.

The weather was better this week (finally) after weeks of being gross so we spent a lot of time outside: getting garden beds ready for planting, cleaning up landscaping, and pulling weeds.

Have I shared the patio plans here? I’m too lazy to go back and read the other posts so this might be a repeat. We have a patio off our family room that we’re building a roof over. It seems simple, just build a roof, but to do it we had to complete a bunch of other projects.

The roof will block all the morning sun from my garden beds so we moved my garden beds out away from the house. Then we built more beds, sectioned off a part, and plan to cover it with river rock.

The roof will block what little natural light we get in the family room so Chris installed canned lighting in the family room a month or two ago.

Now that the garden beds have been moved, the whole area outside the kitchen looks pretty depressing. There’s a small concrete slab off the kitchen doors, but it’s so small I could only ever put one lawn chair on it and then it kinda blocked the door. So then we decided to break up the concrete patio (it was about 6 x 4) and have a much bigger one (22 x 8) installed.

I feel like I shared part of this already because the concrete patio is how Chris threw his back out.

ANYWHO. Long story to tell you they started working on the patio this week. They leveled the area, built the frame, and then moved some huge rocks we had near our driveway. I can’t wait to see how it turns out.

Also, this is a detour to the patio roof. This step wasn’t ever part of the plan in getting the roof up. Full disclosure: it’s not a cheap detour, but when we’re finished with our backyard, it’s gonna be amazing.

Stay tuned for more exciting concrete stories.

I took Friday off work to borrow my dad’s truck and haul a few loads of river rock to fill in my garden. Chris’ back is still messed up so if I wanted to get this done, I had to do it myself. I wasn’t sore from shoveling rocks for hours, but I should have worn better gloves because the blisters I ended up with are going to stick around for quite some time. But the garden is *almost* ready and I’m thrilled with how it’s coming together.

Late last fall, I inherited about five plants from my mom’s work. They were getting rid of everything for a remodel/update, and she scored me some pretty sweet houseplants. Except I’m pretty sure one of them had gnats living in it…and I finally lost my mind this week because of them. I don’t know which plant it is and I have a feeling they spread so I went full attack and pulled out every single plant in my house on Sunday. EVERY. SINGLE. PLANT.

45+ houseplants from every room of my house got dragged out to the driveway and front sidewalk, cleaned, treated, and aired out. I never ever want to do this again so I was really thorough, took every tip the internet had to offer, and left no piece of soil or pot unturned.

(The good news about writing this weeks later is I can confidently tell you I no longer have a gnat problem. I don’t know exactly what actions worked because I took every tip suggestion and used it, but I’m gnat free and loving life again.)

You know how everyone and their mom started making bread during lockdown? Because I am nothing but defiant and contrary, I stopped making bread. Literally stopped making the bread I love because everyone else was doing it. I think everyone is almost over making bread now, so I’m sure I’ll start back up again soon.

I’m slowly turning our backyard into the place to be. I picked up a rope/tire swing at Sam’s Club when I went grocery shopping. Our pool goes up in a few weeks. As summer approaches, we’re getting more and more camp cancellations so our backyard needs to pick up the slack if the girls will be here all the time.

All my garden starts are itching to be planted. We’re about a week away from safely planting in zone 6, and I can’t wait. There’s so much to do to get dirt and gardens ready before you can actually plant, but it doesn’t match actually putting the seeds or plants in the dirt. Nothing beats that.

Ellie has been very invested in getting her wet hair French braided after her showers. She wakes up with some fancy curly hair and no place to go, but I admire her energy to not completely give up on her appearance like someone else in this house has.

Her math bowl competition happened online this week. She was really disappointed and bummed at how it turned out. I would feel such relief to not have to do some math problems in front of large groups of people but, obviously, we enjoy different things.

We ate a lot of sweets this week: the party scones and the blueberry almond cake from Let Me Feed You are really good. If you haven’t purchases this cookbook yet, I don’t know what to tell you. Just do it.

Things we watched, listened to, or read:
-We watched McMillion$ documentary on Hulu. It’s so weird and funny and odd. I liked it a lot more than Tiger King. Less horror and heartbreak, but still kinda unbelievable.
-We’re still watching the Michael Jordan documentary; still interesting to watch.
-I’m sure there’s more but I didn’t write anything else down and it’s far enough away that I have no idea what I was reading. This is why I shouldn’t procrastinate so much.

What’s for dinner?
Sunday: red beans and rice with chicken sausage
Monday: grilled chicken, zucchini, and couscous
Tuesday: turkey cheeseburger soup (from this cookbook)
Wednesday: Steak-n-Shake takeout (while running errands)
Thursday: one-pan sausage and potatoes (from this cookbook)
Friday: Egg Roll #1 takeout (after returning my dad’s truck)
Saturday: leftovers

DISCLOSURE: affiliate links used

Social distancing: week six (April 19-25)

I don’t know how long I thought self-isolation would go, but it feels crazy to be writing this summary about our sixth week. In January when I was covering the lockdown China was doing, it felt kinda magical. Not being allowed to go anywhere, no reason to leave the house, hunkering down with just my little family.

Flash-forward three months, and it’s a little less magical. I did not see that coming. We’re all getting antsy to go somewhere, but we’re not allowed to and where would we go anyway? Everything feels irresponsible and slightly dangerous. Not for us, but for our community as a whole. I selfishly want to see friends, wander around some stores, and see a movie. But I don’t need to do those things. Seeing social media posts where people are visiting friends, going places with their whole family, and letting everyone know that what they’re doing is fine is helping to show how entitled so many of us are. OOh, you’re allowed to see your friends right now but we should all stay home? Explain that one to me, please.

Entitlement. Entitlement. Entitlement.

We all want to see our friends right now. You’re not special, stop acting like it.

That was a little tangent to tell you we’re still here and still staying home. It is fine, and it is not fine. I had a therapy session Wednesday morning, and I cried for part of it. I think that’s only the second time I’ve cried during this whole global pandemic. I am mostly okay; surviving hard stuff is what I was made for, but spending an hour with someone who only wanted to know how I was doing and feeling was harder than I expected. In lots of ways, I’m the one everyone else leans on and sometimes I forget to check in with myself. I’m glad I still get to see my therapist over the phone. I was going to virtual appointments for a while before the pandemic happened because of my schedule so the consistency of seeing my therapist has been comforting.

The week started off with Chris hurting his back pretty badly. We’re in the beginning stages of a million outdoor projects. A few weeks ago we moved my garden beds to a new spot in the yard. We did this, because we’re covering our family room patio and the new roof was going to block a lot of morning sun from the garden beds. After we moved the beds, the tiny concrete slab off the kitchen looked depressing and lonely. So instead of moving on to the family room patio build, we took a slight detour to break up the kitchen patio and have a new, much larger patio poured.

Which meant on Sunday, to save us a little money, Chris was supposed to break up the old patio.

Except he was about 10 minutes into the project when he tried to pick up a piece of concrete that was way too heavy and pulled something in his back. He could barely walk inside. I had to take his shoes off for him. We got him to the couch and there he stayed.

The mess he started in the backyard needed to be finished and cleaned up so I got to spend Sunday afternoon breaking up a concrete patio and hauling it away. Want a cheap way to relieve some coronavirus stress? Grab a sledgehammer and break up some concrete. It took most of the afternoon for me to break it up, load it into my SUV, take it to my aunt and uncles, drop it along their eroding creek bed, then drive back to do it again.

I thought I’d be sore for a week after that, but I guess the gym workouts (pre-COVID-19) and the sporadic garage workouts (during COVID-19) have been paying off, because I pretty much felt fine. Truthfully, I love feeling sore so I was little let down after the whole episode.

Chris spent the whole week slowly walking from one place to another, going to chiropractor visits, or trying to be helpful but just getting in the way. He worked, slowly, and did a lot of moaning. Then he’d do something dumb he wasn’t supposed to do and be back to lots of pain and discomfort. The only way to heal a back is to rest and he seems hell bent on hurting himself *just* enough every day to never get better. His back injury might be the end of our relationship if he doesn’t just sit himself on the couch and stop doing stuff.

Stay tuned for more announcements about the end of our relationship. I’m sure it will be exciting and involve many more trips to the chiropractor as he keeps doing things he shouldn’t.

Harper was supposed to get her braces off this week. Except, the orthodontist isn’t seeing patients, obviously, so they pushed her appointment back one month. She’s had braces for almost two years, much longer than we originally planned, and the minute she’s finally allowed to get them off, we can’t go to the appointment. Worst timing ever.

The weather this week was perfect. Sunny, warm days we spent outside. Well, the girls did. I mostly spent them at my computer because being an adult is lame, but I took breaks outside as much as possible. Wednesday evening at dinner, I noticed the girls had pink cheeks from the sun. It felt hopeful to see the result of a day spent outside. I’m finding hope and encouragement in new places right now.

My garden! I’ve had people ask for specifics on my garden so I’ll probably do a full post later this week, but I transplanted zucchini and yellow squash seed to bigger cups this week. They were outgrowing their starter containers fast and I still have weeks before I’ll plant them. I probably have more than I need, but we’ll see if they all survive to mid-May when I plant. I’m still prepping boxes for planting too. I weeded this week and put down weed killer/plant food. Sometimes I forget how much goes into the garden before I even plant, but the excuse to be outside and getting my hands dirty is welcome right now.

I don’t think I’ve mentioned this at all, and I need to write it down so I don’t forget: The first week of self-isolation involved cleaning the girls’ rooms and moving Harper’s room around so she could have the optimal classroom setting. She LOVES to play school. The first weekend of staying home, she asked us to come into her room for class. Chris, Ellie, and I spent about an hour being bossed and abused by a very strict Harper Graham. Ellie eventually dropped out due to bullying and somehow became the principal of the school. It was a weird transition, but probably for the best.

Since then every Saturday and Sunday, Chris and I have spent 45 minutes in Harper’s classroom. She creates lesson plans, yells at us for talking to each other, and gives us LOTS of work to do. We had to set a time-limit of 45 minutes because she would keep us in there for hours if we let her. She spends time during the week copying worksheets on my printer, grading work from the prior weekend, and writing notes on her whiteboard for us.

This week she started giving us homework. Things are getting out of control. I had to do a math packet AND read two chapters of a book about a classroom hamster before I went to bed Saturday night. Someone else was given homework but LIED when asked if he did it. I’m not naming names, but my classmate definitely did not read two chapters of his assigned book.

We took the cover off the camper on Thursday. I say “we,” but it was mostly me. Chris can’t lift his arms up high enough to be helpful yet. It’s probably warm enough to un-winterize (is that a word?) the camper, but we just took the cover off so we could get to our hammocks. We have a few we take camping and with the nice weather, I wanted to hang them up in the trees for the girls. They were, as expected, a hit. They read and played in them for the rest of the afternoon as well as the rest of the week.

I’m slowly running out of all the stuff I saved up to dole out when things got dire. The hammocks were one of the last things I had on my list. A few days later, I unveiled the 100-count bracelet thread container I bought a while ago. Since then, our house has become overrun with friendship bracelets. (I’ve got a running list of things that are saving us right now; I hope to put a post together soon and share it.)

Before Chris became incapacitated, we had been spending time in very intense NERF wars. I include all of us, but somehow I never had a gun and just ran around the yard trying to steal bullets from Chris and blocking the girls when they were getting attacked.

It started with just NERF guns, but ended with backpacks, helmets, walkie talkies, and belts. I’m sure people who drove by our house that first night thought something was wrong. The dogs, for sure, thought something was wrong. By the end, the only thing that was wrong was how out of breath my husband was.

School for the girls is going fine. Nothing new to report except they have completely ditched the desk and my office for cozy places by the fireplace. I don’t blame them; if I didn’t need two screens to do most of my work, I’d end up there too.

I’m normally at my desk for lunch, and Ellie has taken this opportunity to open a restaurant in my absence. She dons her waitress apron filled with straws, pens, and notebook, seats Harper at the table, providers her with a menu based on what’s available that day, and then serves herself and her sister lunch. It’s pretty fun to witness. Harper gets a bill at the end of each meal and then she pays with fake money. Food is very expensive at Ellie’s restaurant, but she’s consistently luring in customers so she’s doing something right.

At some point, I’ll break down and order more LEGOs for the girls. Not because they need more, but they’re spending so much time playing with them. I feel like a new set will bring them so much joy and excitement. I think I shared this a few weeks ago, but the LEGOs, Magnatile, Shopkins world that has taken over my family room is entertaining them for hours. They also have sets of IKEA trains and tracks that sometimes get added to the mix. There are storylines, rules, and a whole language I’m not privy to, but walking over LEGO creations is a small price to pay for the hours of fun they have.

One afternoon a Shopkins slide showed up on the handrail upstairs. It’s been there for days now, and they use it to shoot animals and supplies downstairs. Until someone loses an eye, I’m sure it will stick around.

They’ve also started decorating Shopkins with hot glue. I can’t even begin to count how many hot glue sticks we’re going through in a day or what exactly they have to glue, but the hot glue gun always seems to be plugged in. This week I found Shopkins with hot glue hats in my freezer.

Things are getting weird.

Things we read, listened to, or watched:
-Chris and I started watching the Michael Jordan series on ESPN. Finding things we both want to watch is a challenge, but watching this show feels like my childhood so I’m just as invested as he is.
-My family is currently obsessed with anything related to Bear Grylls. Our thirst for travel and adventure is so strong right now–I think this is the longest we’ve gone without traveling in years–so we’re living vicariously through Bear and his adventures.
-I finished listening to Open Book by Jessica Simpson. I posted the full review on my book IG account (@themarygrahamreads), but the short version is this book was super interesting. I’m glad I read it. But it’s weird too, not gonna lie.
-The girls spent a lot of their reading time reading books on Epic this week. I’m not sure if it’s free like most things right now (we pay for a subscription), but it’s a good place for kids books especially since the library is probably still closed in your area. Younger readers can choose the read-aloud option and older kids can read novels and graphic novels. There’s a lot of good, high-interest stuff on there and the Graham girls give it two thumbs up. (Edit: It looks like parents can try Epic free for 30 days. Teachers can use it free until the end of June. Ask your kid’s teacher to sign up for a free account then their students can use it free for a few months.)
-I’m running low on audio books right now so I’ve switched my attention back to podcasts. My top three go-to podcasts are: Up First by NPR, My Favorite Murder, Young House Love has a Podcast, and The Big Boo Cast. News podcast every morning as always, MFM when I’m cooking or working outside and wearing headphone (it’s not child-appropriate), and The Big Boo Cast and Young House Love has a Podcast for family-friendly listening. No one in my family wants to listen to it either, but if they happen to be nearby, I don’t rush to turn them off.
-The girls still listen to KidNuz most mornings. If they get up at different times, sometimes it doesn’t happen. But they still love it, and it makes them feel connected to the outside world. They don’t really have access to news other than that; we do our best to limit the things they hear because they don’t need the burden or anxiety it would cause. Between school work, the stories we find okay to share with them, and a morning podcast, that’s enough news for them to handle.

No weekend grocery run this week. Like I shared last week, I’m trying to go three weeks before needing to shop in a grocery store again. We’re starting to run low on fresh fruits and veggies, but I think I found a solution that will keep us out of the stores and help support a local business. I’m doing that next week so I’ll keep you posted.

What’s for dinner?
Sunday: bean burritos with chips and salsa
Monday: hot dogs on the grill
Tuesday: tomato casserole and Brussel sprouts from the Let Me Feed You cookbook
Wednesday: beef stew with dumplings from the Let Me Feed You cookbook
Thursday: leftovers
Friday: leftovers (I refused to make more food until the fridge was cleared out; we had so much food to eat that we had leftovers two nights in a row. It felt like a vacation, to be honest.)
Saturday: lunchmeat sandwiches

Other food-related bits:
-I made a big batch of chicken salad for lunches and ate it every single day this week. I could eat chicken salad with lots of celery and onions constantly and never tire of it. Just top it with a little TJ’s Everything But the Bagel seasoning, and I’ll eat it for every single meal.
-Ellie has been baking a lot. This week she kept us filled with brownies and smoothies.

April 25th marked 41 days of the Grahams staying home. Ellie and Harper have had a few car trips to do porch drop-offs, but otherwise they’ve not left the house in over a month. What a weird, wonderful world we live in.

DISCLOSURE: affiliate links used

so you want to buy a camper

With so many things closed or cancelled, in many ways, it feels like the perfect time to purchase a travel traveler and hit the road. You can camp without coming into contact with people, social distancing is easy in the woods, and hotels don’t seem super safe right now.

I’m not going to disagree with you, I think now is a good time to buy an RV. But I would have agreed with you before the global pandemic too. We have been camping for over a decade, love our camper, and have yet to tire from a weekend in the woods or a week in another state.

Camping is something I don’t think we’ll ever regret doing or investing in. Sound like something you want to do too? Here are some questions I’d ask myself before I even open the internet browser to start looking at what’s available:

How often can you camp? I *know* it looks fun. It is fun! But if you look at your schedule (okay, not right this second, but in general) and hardly ever have a free weekend, buying a camper might not be the best idea for you. It’s a costly purchase to only use a few times a year. It would probably just be better to rent one from a company or an RV-share site. I’m not covering upkeep or maintenance in this post, but unless you just like throwing money away on something you don’t use very often, I’d skip the purchase for now.

But if you’re learning through this pandemic that the slower pace is for you and you want to make some serious schedule/life boundaries, buying a camper might encourage that. We camp a lot, but that also means we say no to a lot of other things. We limit sports commitments, summer camps; sometimes we miss baby showers and friend parties. If we stayed home every weekend we had an invitation or offer, we would never camp. Getting away in your camper involves missing other things. If your schedule or priorities are different, you might not want to buy the RV right now.

What’s my price range? Know what you’re willing to spend before you start looking. You can get a decent, first camper for around $4,000. It’s not going to be pretty or new, but if you just want to camp, it will work. Or you could buy a trailer worth more than my house. Whatever you want to spend, figure out the budget before you begin looking because once you start, it will be reallllly easy to get distracted or think you should spend *just* a little more. We live in the Midwest so keep that in mind when I’m talking money, also. We don’t have access to oceans, but we do have better prices when shopping for a camper.

I’m writing this in the spring, when the weather is turning nice and everyone wants to be outside. Campers are more in demand in the spring so you normally pay a little more right now than if you bought in the fall. Everyone wants a camper in May. But lots of people buy campers, hardly ever use them, and decide as the weather turns cooler that it’s time to get rid of it. You get better deals and more selection if you can purchase in the fall. I know that’s less time for you to use it before it gets too cold, but if you can wait or know you want to make a purchase for next summer, fall camper shopping will be to your benefit.

How much insurance do I want and how much will it cost? You should definitely call your insurance agent and double check everything I’m about to tell you. I haven’t checked your specific insurance policy in a few weeks, so things might have changed since the last time I was rifling through your glove box. But most car insurance policies cover anything you hook up and pull/tow with your insured vehicle. So technically, we had insurance on our camper the minute we hooked it up to our SUV. But that just meant if something flew off while we were driving or it hit something, we’d be covered.

We wanted more insurance than that. Your travel trailer will spend the majority of its time not hooked up to your car. So if you just use the vehicle insurance, it’s uninsured while you’re camping in the woods. Or when it’s sitting in storage. We pay about $400 a year to have full coverage on our camper. That means if a bad storm comes through and rips off the awning, insurance covers it. That means if a window has a leak you didn’t know about and it lets water in all winter, the damage is covered by insurance. We’ve always paid cash for our campers so we didn’t technically need extra insurance for a loan stipulation, but we also felt our investment needed full protection. We blew a tire in Wyoming one summer and it was so jarring that it damaged the kitchen cabinets above it. We’ve lost an awning in high wind in Montana and suffered water damage one winter. Our full coverage insurance has saved our butts many times.

What will plates and registration cost? Every time I go to register and plate a recreational vehicle, I’m shocked. If you buy from a dealer, you’ll pay sales tax, but if you buy from an independent seller, be ready to pay that sales tax to the BMV too. I wasn’t prepared for this expense with our first purchase. I wish I would have included plates and registration in my budget so I didn’t have that unexpected expense.

How will you tow it? We have always bought towable trailers. We don’t want the additional expense and stress of owning a class A, B, or C camper with a motor. Plus, we like the ability to use our vehicle while leaving the camper hooked up at the campground.

We don’t own a truck. We purposefully bought an SUV able to tow 9,000+ lbs. because we knew a travel trailer was in our future. Most SUVs cannot tow that much weight. We basically bought a truck frame on an SUV body (a Nissan Armada). If you’re interested in a pop up, you can tow those easily with most vehicles. The older the camper, the heavier. The campers they make today are ridiculously light. But our budget, especially for our first camper, was pretty small so we knew we’d be buying an older and heavier camper to tow.

We had a generic hitch on our SUV, but it wasn’t made to tow more than a small trailer. We had a travel trailer hitch with sway bar installed on our vehicle so we could pull the camper. I think it cost around $1,000, but it made sure we didn’t tear up our vehicle by pulling something we shouldn’t and the sway bar helped keep the camper stable which helps with driving and gas mileage.

Where will you store your camper? Do you have room in your driveway? Will your HOA allow it? Do you need to pay to have it stored? How much will that cost? Camper storage costs can be ridiculous. We kept our first camper, the one we rehabbed, in our driveway for months. It blocked access to the garage and required my husband to park on the street. Once the season was over, we paid to store it. Soon after, we moved out of the city and had space to store it in our driveway. Make sure you have a place and budget to store your camper, especially if you don’t have space at home.

Where will you shop? For our first camper purchase, we stuck to dealerships. We didn’t know enough about buying a camper and what to look for that we felt it was safer to stick with reputable places that were, hopefully, not going to sell us something uninhabitable. We had a friend who owned a camper give us a list of things to ask or check, and then we had my dad come give it a once over before we signed on dotted line. The more eyes on that first camper purchase, the better. I tend to get excited about something and ignore problem signs because I just want it so bad. Bringing a friend or annoyingly practical father with you can’t hurt.

Buying at a dealership will probably mean you spend a little more than you would if you bought from an independent seller. We were willing to do that to ensure we got something safe and usable, but if you’ve got an experienced friend or are buying from someone you trust, independent seller is the way to go. Once we got the hang of maintaining a travel traveler, we bought our next two from Craigslist or Facebook independent sellers. Do whatever makes you the most comfortable.

Where will you camp? Obviously, you don’t know the answer to that completely. No one does. But it might be good to check out a few campgrounds you’d like to visit and see what it will cost you. For a quick weekend trip, we spend about $50-$80 for a spot in a state campground. That means an electric site, no sewer or water. We’re also pretty loyal to KOA campgrounds and pay about $100 for a weekend with full hookups. You can find places cheaper than state parks and, if you want to go completely off the grid with no amenities, you can find places to stay for free. Just be aware of what you’d like to do and how much a weekend away will cost. (This means extra gas expenses too; towing a camper eats gas fast.) If you get a camper but can’t afford to go anywhere, it would be a total bummer.

Ready to look at a camper? There are plenty of YouTube videos that walk you through buying a camper and how to do it. I’m not going to do it any better. But as you’re checking out a camper you’re interested in, make sure you:
-look for soft spots in the floor; that signals water damage even if you can’t see it with your eyes
-check windows, skylights, the A/C, etc. for water leaks or places that have been patched; water damage is the kill shot for RVs and something you really don’t want to mess with
-if you see visible rot or mold, run away
-check the exterior for damage; use the ladder or bring your own, you’ll need to climb on top of the RV to see what’s happening up there
-check the tires; campers sit for long periods of time and tires rot out fast when they don’t move. They’re not too expensive to fix, but know before you buy if that needs to happen, it might figure in to your final cost.
-check the plumbing; does the toilet leak? Does the sink drain okay? We bought our first camper without realizing the shower head was missing. When we got it home and hooked it up, that was a nice, messy surprise.
-what’s the dry weight? Can you pull it?

That’s a short list and watching a few YouTube videos ahead of time will give you a good foundation to start looking at campers. I was really scared of buying a camper that ended up having massive damage and wasting our money; having a friend there to help was crucial for us. Also, if you feel something’s off or have a concern, there are more RVs out there. Don’t make concessions because you like something and ignore a major issue that will end up costing you a lot of money in the long term.

We had our first, small camper for two years before we sold it and upgraded. I’m forever thankful we got to learn the ropes on an older camper before moving on to newer ones. It felt like less pressure if we broke something or if we decided camping wasn’t for us.

I hope you made it through that list and still want to camp. I wouldn’t trade anything for the thrill of throwing some clothes and food in the camper on a Friday afternoon and taking off for the weekend. We’ve explored the country in a travel trailer and spent weekends just a few hours from our house. Both of them feel adventurous and special. So whether you’re planning on traveling the country or just heading up state a few miles, the camper life is always a worthwhile adventure in my book.

Social distancing: week five (April 12-18)

Sunday was Easter; our first Easter spent completely at home with just the four of us. The girls woke up to hidden Easter baskets and had Pringles and gummy bears for breakfast in honor of the Lord.

We had brunch, watched church online, dyed eggs, decorated cookies, and hunted for eggs in the yard. It was fun, if not a little weird. The girls got sidewalk chalk in their baskets and decorated the sidewalks and the end of the driveway with messages for passersby.

My brother stopped by the day before to drop off treats for the girls, so they ate cake for brunch dessert. So many interesting food choices on the holidays.

We finished the evening on the couch watching a movie and eating popcorn for dinner. Chris and the girls are working their way through all the Marvel movies so I get to half-watch a lot of superhero stories while I read a book or play on my phone. We FaceTimed their cousin Savannah before bedtime to see what she got in her basket and to say ‘Happy Easter.’

The girls have found a pretty good routine for school. Our district’s schedule is school Tuesday through Thursday. They’re using waiver days for most Mondays and Fridays and a few already-planned days off to finish the year. I’ve been really impressed with how our district handled the sudden changes and the girls’ teachers have been great too. For my job, I spend a lot of time in Facebook chat groups for teachers trying to figure out how to switch to online learning and I know it’s not been easy for many teachers. Lots of school districts have made bad choices, made unreasonable demands, and left teachers and parents in tough spots. I’m really thankful for the school community we have.

The girls’ principal sends out a Tuesday call to kick off the week complete with the pledge of alligance and encouragement. We stand in my office, face the flag in the cemetery, and say the pledge every Tuesday. Routine and familiarity is so important to kids right now, and it feels good to see so many people working hard to make sure kids are well-cared for.

Over spring break, I added a table and work spots in my office for the girls. It’s a good landing spot for all their papers, chargers, etc. but they prefer to do their school work spread out all over the house. They’re pretty self-sufficient so they don’t need to be near me while they work. Harper actually likes to sit on the floor next to the dog. I like to work near the dogs too, so I understand this.

After weeks of getting kicked out of Zoom meetings and hangouts at the 40 minute mark, I finally upgraded my account. They finally got my money. But we needed more than 40 minutes for life group and Thursday morning Bible study. And, let’s be honest, I really wanted the extra background options with the paid version. Hawaii, here I come.

We got our stimulus money on Wednesday. Since we aren’t hurting financially right now, we donated some to our church’s food bank (something we’re also doing every time we get paid) and asked the girls to do research and decide where they wanted to donate part of their money. The only rule was it had to help people in our community. Harper was not interested in this at all. She asked if she could donate it to Wal-Mart and they could give her some stuff in return. I said that was called SHOPPING and not what’s happening here.

Ellie went all in, researching, asking questions, and reading reviews of charities. Harper decided wherever Ellie picked was good enough for her too. Ellie went with the Midwest Food Bank for her funds (and Harper’s). We put the rest in their college savings accounts. I understand the money was meant to help me provide for my kids if I needed help with food or bills, but we don’t so I felt it should be put up for them for later. We’re also using part of our money to hire a few small businesses for some projects.

(The donation idea came about on accident. For Ellie’s birthday in February, I got her a sewing machine. She’s been wanting to learn how to sew and make things for a few years. It wasn’t on her list, but I felt confident it was going to be a hit. It was not. She was kinda bummed about it and asked me to return it. But now that everyone needs masks and is making masks, she really wishes she had kept it. She wants to help but doesn’t know how. There has been a few good cries over sewing machine regret. She looked online to see if she could buy one, but they’re sold out everywhere, of course. Also, I was hesitant to buy one right now, because I don’t know how to sew, neither does she, and I had exactly zero minutes to learn or teach her. After we taught ourselves to sew, we’d have to source materials which is also tough right now. It was going to turn into a giant, frustrating production for a girl who is very hard on herself when she messes up. This was not the time to start learning something new with the pressure she’d put on herself. I made a mental health call even though she didn’t like it. I gently discouraged her from the idea, and she was pretty disappointed about it. So I suggested the money donation as a way to be involved. it immediately made her feel better and helpful. Kids want to help–they see the need and struggle right now-but often don’t have the means or ability to do much. I know what that helplessness feels like. I think I’m going to include her more in the weekly donation we’re making too; maybe ask for her help in deciding where it goes or involving her in the process. I haven’t thought that one out completely yet. But we are supporting a few friends who are making masks as well. I don’t have that skill, but I have the money to keep you going if you want it.)

Thursday night we watched the Disney Sing-Along on ABC. Did you watch it? It was fun, something new to spice up an evening at home. The girls and I sang our hearts out. I’m serious, I woke up the next morning with a scratchy throat from the intense scream-singing I did. The girls found the whole hour enjoyable, giggling and singing along with me. Chris Graham cowered in the corner of the couch with the dogs, all three of them very confused and afraid. We regret nothing.

Friday morning we drove to school to pick up Harper’s classroom belongings. The teachers are cleaning out desks and lockers, and we have a designated time to drive up and get them. We saw Harper’s teacher and one of Ellie’s favorite teachers from the door, and it was oddly emotional. They yelled “we miss you!” as the girls rolled down their window to wave. My girls love school and have such positive school experiences that realizing the things they were giving up right now hit me hard in the school parking lot. It was the first time we’d been back since things got so gloomy in the world and the wave of emotion I felt was unexpected.

It got cold again. DISLIKE. On the bright side, I got to pick all my tulips before a frost and ended up with the prettiest jar to sit on the kitchen table all week.

My garden is slowly making progress. We installed weed barrier, and Chris put down edging this week. Next on the list is spreading rocks and getting the soil ready for planting in May.

I have a compost bin (hidden behind the shed) where all our fruit, veggie, coffee, and egg shells go. I occasionally throw in some ash from the fire pit and lawn clippings. I fill it from March to November, stirring it occasionally, but mostly leaving it alone. Lots of people ask how my garden grows so well, and I think that’s one of the tricks. In November, I spread the compost on, cover the beds in leaves from the yard, and let it sit all winter. The compost and rotting leaves mean magic for spring gardens. I have a few other tricks, but that’s it for now.

Things we read, listened to, or watched:
-I listened to The Upside of Being Down by Jen Gotch. I liked it. I know Jen Gotch isn’t for everyone, but her mental health journey has made a lot of people feel less alone, and I’m a big fan of that.
-Ellie devoured Kingdom Keepers: Disney After Dark by Ridley Pearson. I haven’t read it, but from what I can tell, it’s similar to the Goosebumps series but for older kids and with a Disney spin. Ellie read the book in less than 24 hours. Harper’s reading it now. I’ve got the next books checked out from the library, the girls are spending a lot of time reading during the week and I have 0.00000 complaints about that.
-Chris and I finished watching the Tiger King series. By episode five, when Travis accidentally kills himself, I was done. I’ve been writing a response to Tiger King in my head since we finished it, but the main thing that stood out to me was just how dark it was. Our country’s love and fascination with mental health struggles and the addictions those often bring isn’t funny or entertaining to me. Tiger King is full of ruined lives and hopelessness and it breaks my heart to see how many people just find it thrilling to watch.
-The girls are still doing the LEGO challenge most days. They don’t do it on the weekends so that’s stretching out the 30-day challenge way past 30 days. Occasionally Harper skips it if she’s not feeling “inspired” with the suggestion.
-The girls and Chris are going through the Running Wild with Bear Grylls series on Disney+. They’re picking and choosing the episodes where they know a celebrity guest and really enjoying it. Seeing Brie Larson, the woman who plays Captain Marvel, was a favorite.
-I started a new morning devotion with the girls. Indescribable: 100 Devotions for Kids About God and Science by Louie Giglio. I’m excited to read this with my kids. I struggle a lot with how many Christians believe you can’t believe in science and God at the same time. It’s okay to say God is in control of the world and science helps us understand a little part of that. I’m hopeful this book doesn’t gloss over those connections. I’ll let you know how it goes when we get into it more.

I went to the grocery store on Saturday after two weeks of avoiding it. In the beginning, I was trying to make it to the store once a week but that felt unnecessary. I selfishly wanted the break from my house, but it wasn’t in the best interest of everyone else so I stopped. I wore a mask in public for the very first time. It felt weird and hot, but important. I was shocked and disappointed at the number of people not wearing masks. It’s humbling, for sure, but it’s REALLY IMPORTANT. We know the masks won’t keep us 100% safe, but they will drastically reduce the transmission of our germs to others. I think it’s especially important for young, seemingly-healthy people. We don’t know if we’re carriers because so many of us are asymptomatic. But we could really hurt others by not wearing them. WEAR A MASK when you go in public. I’d get used to it, I don’t think it’s going away any time soo.

What’s for dinner?
Sunday: Easter brunch & movie night with snack food
Monday: pork chops & potatoes
Tuesday: eggs, leftover gravy, and potatoes
Wednesday: taco night
Thursday: chicken and orzo soup (recipe here; everyone loved this)
Friday: make-your-own pizzas & breadsticks
Saturday: leftovers

How are you doing? Tell me what’s keeping you partly sane right now. We need all the help we can get here.

Social distancing: week four (April 5-11)

Good weather all week felt like the greatest gift.

Staying home all the time is okay, but sunshine and warm weather made for walks and playing outside is just so much better.

I mowed our grass for the first time this spring. It felt too early, but it was getting obnoxiously high. I enjoy mowing the grass, but starting too soon means you might be mowing in between snow flurries so I try to hold off as long as possible.

My flowers and plants are growing. Spring is always full of hope and renewal, but especially right now, I like the reminder that even when it feels like the world is falling apart, nature is continuing her rhythm. It’s really grounding and calming to see God’s creation remind us He’s in control, there is nothing new under the sun, and we’re gonna be okay.

Chris got a flat tire on the way home from work on Wednesday. Not that I was *excited* he got a flat tire, but we did get to go rescue him on the side of the road and take the tire to the tire store to be replaced. (He should have a spare in his car, yes. He’s been reminded of that. But he won’t buy one or be prepared for the next flat tire emergency, he’ll just keep putting it off forever. It’s the Chris Graham way. And having good boundaries means I can’t do it for him even though his lack of preparedness will end up hurting me too. Woah, this is a social distancing recap, Mary, not therapy, calm down.)

It was late enough in the evening when we got done with the tire fix that the girls were starving so we went to the Steak-n-Shake drive thru for dinner. It might have been the most delicious food I’ve ever tasted. It was manna from heaven, a most glorious feast.

We didn’t eat out a lot before this, about once a week, twice if we had a busy weekend, but I’m a month into making all the meals for my family and the luxury of having someone WHO IS NOT ME make food made me want to cry. This is where we’re at, people. Maybe I’ll pray for another flat tire so we can do it again. (Just kidding, get a spare tire for your car, Chris Graham.)

The nice weather meant we grilled out for dinner a few nights. Hot dogs, hamburgers, chicken–if I could grill our breakfast I would have.

We’re continuing our Wednesday night life group meetings over Zoom. Sitting outside talking to our friends with bellies full of food I didn’t have to make or clean up made the evening pretty much perfect.

We had some tree stumps in our yard ground. That was an exciting hour when everyone got to stand at the window and watch guys cut down trees and grind the stumps. Seeing another human for any reason is thrilling to us right now. Maybe we’ll even start getting up early on Mondays to cheer the trash men on. Stay tuned for more details about that.

I’ve said it before, but my weeks don’t feel very different. Chris goes to work, and I work all day in my office. In the evenings we eat dinner and do regular things we’d do year round (play outside, laundry, play games, make sure the girls bathe, etc.). The girls are here, and they do school work two hours a day three days a week, but it sorta feels like summer or a school break. They play and eat constantly and make messes. Because Chris and I are still working, we’re not experiencing the extra down time or boredom others might be. It’s a bittersweet experience; I’m thankful for our jobs and their consistency, but I’d also like to spend the afternoon on the couch reading a book or working in the yard.

Our week days still feel like normal weekdays and our weekends are still weekends. We do house projects and church, stay in our pajamas and watch movies. We have more normalcy than most, I think. It’s making the time go fast, but it almost feels like we’re missing something too.

The girls still follow a weekday schedule, and I know that helps them to not be bored or restless. There’s a lot of playing and creating, and they always have something to look forward to. As long as the weather is nice, I can talk them into taking a walk with me. Harper normally rides her bike or scooter, Ellie brings a dog, and we hit the road. I try to be gone an hour, but the girls are not really fans of that.

Things we read, listened to, or watched:
-I listened to the audio version of Heartburn by Nora Ephron; it was just delightful. It’s about a marriage falling apart which sounds like the opposite of delightful, but just trust me. Nora Ephron is such a good writer, I’d read her description on paint drying and probably be entertained.
-We finished watching New Girl this week. If you’re looking for something light hearted, I’d highly recommend it. It felt good to put the girls to bed and laugh at night. Not that our days our laugh-free, but the show is just so funny and a little ridiculous that you can’t help but giggle. Bonus points to New Girl because Chris and I don’t always find the same things funny.
-We started Tiger King. I have some thoughts and they probably aren’t as funny and light as everyone else’s. I know the entertainment factor is high: animals, weird people, drama, etc., but I found it pretty dark. We’ll finish it next week and I’ll share more then, but I’m not loving it like everyone else.
-The girls and I finished Fearless Faith: 100 Devotions for Girls by Melanie Shankle. I’ve ordered a new study to start next week. It’s completely different from this one, but I think they’re going to like it.

What’s for dinner?
Sunday: pizza & breadsticks
Monday: pork sliders and Brussels sprouts
Tuesday: hot dogs and veggies
Wednesday: Steak-n-Shake, from where all blessings flow
Thursday: biscuits and gravy
Friday: teriyaki chicken with cauliflower rice and pot stickers
Saturday: grilled pork chops & roasted potatoes

And finally, my seeds have sprouted! Normally, I buy starts for my garden but this year I upped my farmer game a little bit and planted seeds. This was an experiment only. Seeds are cheap and I figured if this didn’t work, I’d just buy the starts like normal.

TBD if I plant them, but they sprouted this week!

We’ve got into a pretty good rhythm for this weird lockdown situation. Each week I’m sure I won’t have anything to write about, but then I remember that little things are important too. One day we’ll look back on this and it will be a foggy memory. It won’t feel as real as it does now. I don’t want to forget how we felt, what we did, and how we survived this global pandemic.

I hope you’re documenting your weeks in whatever way you feel most comfortable. Even if it feels endless right now, this too shall pass. Stay safe and healthy, friends.

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