Entries from March 2010 ↓

Right this very moment, there’s an email sitting in my drafts folder that I’m afraid to send.

Once I send it, I can’t undo it, and it’s potential damage could be huge. It could mean financial disaster for us, this month. It could mean that my daughter never sees her father again. It could mean that he shows up at my door, angry, drunk and needing vilification. It could mean going to court, with a list of his offenses, dragging his name and self-esteem through the mud to get a judge to see that at this point in time, he’s unfit to be more of a parent than an alcoholic.

I’ve been putting off writing it all day, finally getting down to it when I knew not doing so would cost me more, in lost work time, in emotional pain.

Today, I sent her off for her last visit with him and didn’t tell either of them, and I carefully planned to have an email waiting for him tomorrow morning, stripping him of his visitation, as soon as he woke up.

By doing so, I will have given someone an extreme case of the Mondays.

I know that I shouldn’t feel guilty, and that I’m doing the right thing and I didn’t race into this decision whatsoever. It’s been all of her life that his drinking has been an issue, and that her well-being has been at risk. But, the guilt-feeling, extreme-moralist in me can’t help but feel like I’m about to ruin his life.

Note, I didn’t say that he has.

Why yes, I will be attending Al-Anon meetings. Why do you ask?

Ultimately, it comes down to this: I don’t want Zoë to grow up like me. I don’t want her to think that if someone’s nice to you part of the time, then they love you, and if when they’re drinking they’re nicer, you should just accept it. I don’t want her to not be able to trust people and lovers, to never give herself over to another person, because she’s aware all too well what happens when they decide not to be there, anymore. I don’t want her to pick up a bottle and see salvation, healing for every moment when she thought that she wasn’t enough, or for the anxiety she feels, or the abandonment she faces even when she’s not alone.

Basically, the goal is is preserve this for as long as I possibly can.

Even if it comes at a great cost to me, and to him. She doesn’t owe us anything, and we owe her the world. I have the clarity of that mantra – I know that without giving her everything that I can, she’ll miss out on something (and still might) – but he doesn’t. And I can’t try to teach him anymore, when it puts a tariff on her emotional well-being.

Vegan, gluten-free, with fruit? Yes, please. Except for how much sugar went into these bad boys, I could almost completely convince myself that they were healthy.

Which is probably why we ate them for breakfast. And why I finished off the batch, only two days after they were baked.

Based on a recipe from this book (affiliate link), I tweaked it a little to make the batter less dry (to compensate for the gluten-free flour), added a little extra of this and that, and still ended up with way too much. I suggest halving the recipe’s ingredients, and enjoying with sweet tea.

2 bananas, mashed
3/4 c. apple sauce
3/4 c. sugar
1 t. vanilla extract
2 1/2 c. flour (I used Bob’s Red Mill Gluten-Free All Purpose)
2 1/2 c. rolled oat flakes (I used Bob’s Red Mill Gluten-Free Rolled Oats)
1/4 t. xanthan gum
1 t. cinnamon
1 t. baking soda
1 c. raisins
1/2 c. vegan chocolate chips (try finding fair-trade certified, for extra tasty karma)

1. Preheat oven to 350°.
2. Mix together the bananas, applesauce, sugar, and vanilla in a small bowl. Set aside.
3. In a large bowl, mix together all dry ingredients except for the raisins and chocolate chips.
4. Add the banana mixture to the flour mixture, mixing together well, then add in the raisins and chocolate chips and mix again until just blended well.
5. After lining or lightly oiling it, drop spoon-fulls on a cookie sheet.
6. Bake for 12-15.

Makes at least a dozen huge-ass cookies.