February 9, 2012

Day 9.

Today is day 9 on medication. The first full day on full strength (the doctor had me start at half-strength to try & keep me from getting smacked with side effects). I feel… better. Not great, not amazing, but better. I’m starting to see things I’ve ignored/pushed aside these last few months. I’m actually looking forward to tomorrow, this weekend, next week. Tasks are no longer insurmountable obstacles, but I’m still getting out of the habit of not doing them.

I’m re-learning how to live. & I’m OK with that.

So far, so good.

Life is not about waiting for the storm to pass; it’s about learning to dance in the rain.

– Vivian Greene

January 23, 2012


The face of depression isn’t always a sad one.

In fact, I’m willing to bet that no one other than McDreamy could tell you that I am depressed. I’ve even managed to hide it from him for a long time. I managed to hide it from myself for even longer. Probably because my depression doesn’t manifest itself as sadness most of the time. Yes, I get sad, & I cry over stupid things, but mostly, I’m angry. & tired. Oh, so tired.

I don’t remember the last time I wasn’t tired. I’ve tried sleeping more, sleeping less, different mattresses, sleep aids, et cetera, infinity. Nothing helps. I’m always tired, unless I don’t get decent sleep & then, I’m exhausted. Small, easy tasks are insurmountable obstacles because I can’t possibly have the energy to do a load of laundry when it takes everything I have to stay awake & breathe. I want to do things, I just simply can’t.

I’m so forgetful. McDreamy can ask me to do something, & within minutes I’ve forgotten, so it doesn’t get done. I start something & it takes 3 times longer to finish it because I get distracted & forget what I was doing in the first place. I can put something next to my purse so that I “won’t forget it!” & then walk right out without it.

& then there is the anger. Or, THE RAGE as I call it. It bubbles up inside of me so quickly, at the smallest thing. Sometimes, I can squash it back down, but most of the time it takes over before I even realize what is happening. I have zero patience. I feel like a crappy parent to Zola more & more often; her issues make it challenging to do things with her, & my fuse is so short that I avoid playing games or doing crafts with her because OH MY GOD, YOU AREN’T DOING IT RIGHT, & DO I REALLY HAVE TO EXPLAIN THIS AGAIN?!? I know how horrible that sounds, trust me. Which is why I avoid doing things with her that I know will trigger it. There are a lot of times that I just have to walk away. I hate hate hate it. I feel like I’m turning into MY mother, which is the worst possible fate in the universe. I KNOW what it was like growing up with her; I know what it felt like to be her daughter. I don’t want that for Zola, & I don’t want it for any other children we may someday have.

Once you combine all of this together, I feel like the biggest failure on the planet. I can’t keep my house clean, so I fail as a wife. I can’t get pregnant, so I fail as a woman. I can’t be interactive with my daughter, so I fail as a mother. I can’t hold my temper, so I fail as a person. Everything I do is wrong, no matter how hard I try. I want to be a good wife, a good mother, a good person. I try so, so hard. But it isn’t good enough.

It isn’t good enough because my brain chemistry is out of whack. The chemicals in my body are betraying me, every day. They are causing these feelings, this little voice telling me that I’m not worth it. They are causing the bone-crushing exhaustion that envelopes me & keeps me from doing the things I so desperately want to do.

& this sounds like excuses, which is another reason I’ve put off getting help for so long. I (& that little voice) had convinced myself that I was just a lazy, mean bitch. I had convinced myself that this is just how I’m made, that if I really wanted to, I’d get up & do the dishes. If I really wanted to, I could have more patience. That if I wanted to, I could stop being so lazy, so angry, such a failure. That surely, I must be doing something wrong.

Well, I was doing something wrong. I wasn’t getting help. But that’s about to change. Because I’m going to fight chemistry with chemistry, & be the person I’ve dreamed of being.

Bring it on. I’m done being depression’s punching bag.

January 2, 2012

12 Things in 2012

(inspired by Jill over at BabyRabies.com)

This is the year of 2012, & there are 12 months in the year, so here are 12 things to accomplish in 2012.

1. Get fertility testing done. Our insurance covers it (minus co-pay), so there is no *real* reason not to. Plus, if we figure out what is wrong, or what isn’t, we will be one step closer to a baby.

2. Clean out the loft. It is crammed full of stuff that came from my mom’s house & the storage building my dad rented. We have aspirations of lining the wall with bookshelves, & possibly carving out a craft area, but that won’t happen unless I wade through all of the stuff. I’m not even going to make myself get rid of it all, but it has to be gone through – & whatever I am keeping (even if only for the time being) needs to be packed away & stored.

3. Purge my closet & repurpose old t-shirts. I have eleventy-billion old t-shirts that I never wear anymore but can’t bear to throw away. I have them from soccer, dance, band, track, senior year, dorm parties, et cetera, ad naseum. I think the main logo parts of the shirts should be turned into a quilt while other parts can be made into cleaning rags, skirts, headbands, and other things as seen on Pinterest🙂

4. Get rid of the gigantic entertainment center. It is beautiful, & we’ve enjoyed having it in our living room. But it’s huge. Plus, it has so many shelves crammed with so many knickknacks, it’s a dusting nightmare. I envision the TV mounted on the wall, a cabinet underneath to store gaming consoles & BluRays, & a few strategically placed, sleek, modern shelves with only the most treasured few things displayed.

5. Get outside more often. I hate the cold, & it gets hotter than Hell’s furnace in the summer, but we really need to get out & get active more. We have three high-energy dogs, plus a little girl we need to be teaching good habits to. Neither of us are adverse to outdoor activities, so I don’t know why we don’t take advantage of our area’s nature trails & such more often. We recently ditched our TV provider, which means our options for mindless zombie time are now seriously limited. Hopefully, this will help in our quest to leave the couch for longer than it takes to get another soft drink.

6. Achieve a solid sit, stay, & quiet command with each dog. Oh, they can sit – if you have a treat present or they think you are close enough to inflict bodily harm (not that we do!). They will stay, most of the time… well, at least dogs #1 & 2. Dog #3 is another story. She was the dog we didn’t want, & has so many other issues (medical) that her training kind of slipped by the wayside. & forget about “quiet”. They can’t hear you over their own voices, so it’s a moot point, really. Which is REALLY annoying when you are on the phone & they *think* they hear something outside; surely it is the aliens coming to attack & they must warn you & scare off the intruders. I swear they will drive me to drink if I don’t get some semblance of control.

7. Meet up with my girl(s) at least once a month. We have Zola every other weekend, & I often ride with McDreamy on the weekends he works, but I have every Wednesday off. & really, I can make the time. So, we will coordinate schedules & meet up at least once monthly. For coffee, for lunch, for whatever our schedules & budgets allow. But I will hug their necks & take silly iPhone pictures, & just enjoy seeing their faces. We don’t do it enough. While the internet & social media have made connecting with friends easier, they can’t – & shouldn’t – replace our entire friendships. Yes, it’s easy to text someone between projects at work, but if you can’t find 30 minutes to have a cup of coffee with your best friend? Well, frankly, you don’t deserve them as a friend.

8. Visit my grandpa. It’s been 4 years since I’ve seen him. I talk to him every couple of weeks, but he’s hard of hearing & a lot gets lost in translation. He lives about 10 hours from here, which isn’t insurmountable, but when you factor in time off from work, plus gas (or airfare) & food, it isn’t a cheap trip, either. But, he’s 88 years old. He’s in decent health, but we all know our time on Earth is limited. There are things I need to ask him, things I never got the chance to ask Mom. & he’s my grandpa. It’s important.

9. Finish the “baby” blankets I started… almost a year ago. There are two. I started them just after New Year’s 2010; one for a baby born in May & one in June. They still aren’t done. I had intended them to be baby shower gifts… then newborn gifts… then Christmas gifts. Luckily, they are both (going to be) big enough that it won’t matter they won’t be babies anymore. But I HAVE to finish them. Period.

10. Budget for Christmas 2012. Christmas always sneaks up on us. This year, WalMart brought back layaway, so we went in November & got all of Zola’s gifts, plus our niece’s. Then I went to a local boutique (who also offers layaway) & selected everything for the women in the family. I made a payment to each every payday, & it worked out quite nicely. This was the best Christmas we’ve had, money-wise, because I divided it out & payed every week, religiously. We didn’t go crazy on gifts this year, either. Zola got 5 or 6 things from us, & everyone else got $20-30 worth of presents. We didn’t put anything on credit this year, which was a HUGE difference from last year. This year, I’d like to put aside money each month in preparation for Christmas shopping. We KNOW Christmas will be December 25, 2012, so why not plan for it?! What a novel concept, I know.

11. Finish putting the kitchen decor together. It’s painted. That’s about it. I have this vision in my head of what I want it to look like. There is some sewing that needs to be done, some crafting, some carpentry by the ever-handy McDreamy, & some switching of the art. I’d also like new hand towels, rugs, & pot holders. It’s not new cabinets & countertops (someday!), but it will go a long way towards making the house look more finished, & making me happy🙂

12. Visit the farmer’s market & actually use the produce bought there. I LOVE farmer’s markets. Pretty much everything about them, really. The produce, the crafts, the people. I love that buying from a farmer’s market puts money directly in the farmer’s pocket, supports sustainable farming practices, & nets you a wholesome, often-organic bag of produce for less than what you’ll pay at the grocery store. I’m a farmer’s daughter, so I know a thing or two about fresh-from-the-garden produce. But I am ashamed to admit that I am guilty of a produce sin; more than one lovingly grown-and-harvested vegetable has met its demise in the cold confines of my produce drawer. Having carefully selected it from the tailgate of a truck, I took it home fully intending to make a gourmet meal with it as the star, only to be distracted by something prepackaged & laden with artificial colors & preservatives. So it languished in the drawer of the refrigerator only to be thrown away, it’s yummy potential squashed (ha!) by my forgetfulness & unintentional shunning. So this year, I will visit the farmer’s market again, but this time – oh, this time – I will NOT allow good produce to go to waste.

What are your 12 things in 2012? (It’s harder than it seems!) Head over to BabyRabies to read other’s lists & link up your own!

November 22, 2011


McDreamy & I had a talk this weekend. He wanted to know where we are, TTC-wise. His exact words were, “I just need to know where we are. We used to talk about it, but we aren’t talking about it anymore. If we know we need help, why aren’t we getting it? This is me, wanting a baby.”

I cried.

I have a lot of excuses as to why I haven’t gone back to the RE yet. Want to hear them? Ok, you talked me into it.

1) Because I don’t always ovulate, we haven’t had as many chances as other couples. We just need more chances.

2) The RE wants to do 3 cycles of meds + timed intercourse before pursuing testing. His reasoning is the same as excuse #1. We are OOP for all treatment, BUT testing is covered, so I’d really prefer to do testing first.

3) I don’t want to have to take off work to have testing done (because some of it has to be done on specific days of my cycle, which obviously can’t be scheduled).

4) I don’t want to have to take off work to have ultrasounds, etc. during treatment.

(Side note: neither of these work excuses are because of money/time lost. They are because we are an extremely small operation & I obviously have an inflated sense of my irreplaceability)

5) Maybe there is some cosmic reason I haven’t gotten pregnant yet. (Yes, I hate this excuse, too)

6) I don’t want to admit that I can’t do this. That I need help. Yet one more thing I suck at (this excuse usually surfaces during one of my less-productive mood cycles, when dishes are stacked in the sink & the laundry has taken over the couch).

7) We are OOP for all treatments. It is a lot of money for even the chance at a baby. There are no guarantees. There are so many other things we could spend the money on, if only I can get pregnant on my own (well, I need McDreamy, but you know what I mean).

But really, the biggest reason, I think:

8 ) I will be officially labelled as infertile. Probably to likely unable to conceive without medical help. Maybe just plain unable to conceive.

I’ve known for a while that I have infertility. I’ve talked about it before. But really, until it’s written on a medical chart? I can pretend it’s only a possibility. I can refer to excuse #1, without being labelled “in denial”.

Have you ever heard of “borrowing trouble”? Until that word is written on my chart, I can convince myself that I am borrowing trouble, succumbing to my attention-whoring ways. I have no right to get angry when people say, “Just relax!” The sting I feel when people ask when we are going to have kids isn’t real, I’m just being sensitive.

But here we are, 18 months into this whole baby-making thing. With no baby to show for it. Not even a line on a test. I remember when I first started posting on the baby board I frequent, I met ladies that had been trying for 2+ years. I couldn’t imagine being in their shoes. I couldn’t imagine trying, month after month, for that long. I couldn’t imagine the pain, the disappointment at seeing red at the end of every cycle. Seeing negative after negative test. But always hoping.

We are quickly hurtling towards the 2-year mark. I’ve been on the board for almost 3 years now, & it is strange to me to think that some newbie may look at my signature & think, “Wow, I can’t imagine trying for that long.” 15 cycles have come & gone. I’ve stared at countless negative tests, willing a second line to show up. I’ve overanalyzed symptoms, convinced myself that THIS month, things will be different.

Life can either be accepted or changed. If it is not accepted, it must be changed. If it cannot be changed, then it must be accepted. – Winston Churchill

I think I’m ready to change it.

November 7, 2011

Well, that explains a lot.

A couple of weeks ago, I was going through a stack of papers my mom saved from when I was in 6th grade. I found a short essay I wrote entitled “If I Had Three Wishes”. Here it is, in all of it’s glory (spelling & grammar mistakes intact).

“If I had three wishes, they would be…”

My first wish would be for [name omitted] to be my sister. We are just like sisters. We fight like sisters, we talk like sisters & even my mom says we look somewhat like sisters.

My second wish would be to be more responcable. I would think of things helpful to do on my own so Mom wouldn’t yell so much.

My third and most important wish would be to keep my grades up & go to vet school. Then I could give kids discounts so they could get their animals shots & other things cheaper. Especially animals that were rescued from shelters & pounds.

First, I would like to point out that even at the tender age of 11, I didn’t write out “and”. I wasn’t using ampersands (but who actually writes an ampersand, anyway?) but I was using the little + sign instead of writing out the word.

But what this post is really about is the bolded portion. I wanted to be more responsible so that Mom wouldn’t yell so much. I was given three wishes – I assume we were told they could be anything we wanted (except additional wishes), & I chose this. As an 11-year-old girl, I used 1/3 of my wishes on a trait that should be learned, fostered, & nurtured.

I didn’t wish for chocolate milkshakes for breakfast, or a pink bike for my birthday. I didn’t wish for new shoes, or to wear makeup like the older girls. I didn’t wish for the newest, coolest CD, or the latest & greatest jeans that were surely all the rage.

It makes me sad.

September 17, 2011


Having recently started cycle 14 (& halfway through month 16), I’m struggling. With not being pregnant, but also where to go from here.

McDreamy & I are pretty firm believers that everything happens for a reason. There have been MANY times that we’ve been disappointed only for things to work out much better than we could have ever planned later on down the road. In planning things or trying to accomplish a large task, if things aren’t going right, we stop & reevaluate. Maybe it isn’t the right time to be trying to buy a car, or maybe this isn’t the car for us – that sort of thing.

So now there is this internal battle raging. I’m not pregnant yet, but maybe it’s because we aren’t ready in some shape or form. It just isn’t the right time for us. We are in a pretty good position right now, but maybe we’ll be doing even better 6 months from now. On the other hand, maybe I do just need medical help to get pregnant. I got into see the RE very quickly, the appointment went well, so there is nothing (at this point) that says that isn’t a good option.

In the middle of all this is the fact that I know sometimes, shitty things happen for no reason. I’ve seen it too many times to count. It drives me crazy when people say “It happened for a reason” after someone has a miscarriage, or their baby dies, or their mom is killed in a car accident. It’s what people say when they are trying to comfort the grieving, & it sucks. I don’t believe in God in the Christian sense, so I don’t think that “God has a hand in everything” or what have you.

But I do know that for us, when things aren’t working out like we want them to, there is *usually* a really good reason. Case in point: we tried to buy a house after about a year of marriage. We had loan issues – their were some liens on McDreamy’s credit from his previous marriage, our credit scores weren’t great, & then our broker went on vacation in the middle of everything & handed us off to someone who had NO CLUE. It was a disaster, & we finally just gave up. We waited a year (& worked hard on our credit) before we tried again. We ended up with an AWESOME realtor, found our house pretty quickly, & sailed through the loan process. The house we ended up with is 1,000,000 times better than the original house. Now logically, I know that we didn’t get the first house because of real, concrete problems. But that is just one of many instances where things have sorted themselves out way better than we ever could have.

Logically, I know I should make an appointment for my CD3 blood work, & we should be looking at starting our first medicated cycle. But my heart just isn’t there yet. Maybe it’s the eternal optimist in me that likes to come out to play every once in a while. Or maybe I’m just not ready to admit that I can’t get pregnant on my own. Either way, I think we are going to wait until after the first of the year. Get through birthdays, our anniversary, & holidays (especially Christmas). If I’m not pregnant by then, I’ll re-evaluate.

I really hope I’m pregnant by then.

September 2, 2011


A week from this Sunday marks ten years since one of the greatest American tragedies in recent history.

For me, it started long before that.

February 26, 1993.

When I was a child, I participated in beauty pageants. In 1992, I had won the All-Star Kids pageant. As reigning queen in my age division, it was my “duty” to return & pass my crown on to the next year’s winner. The ’93 pageant was being held at the Marriot World Trade Center hotel.

Continue reading

July 18, 2011

I can’t believe it’s actually over.

12 years ago, my mom & I were in a bookstore during one of her rare days “home”. Mom had instilled in me a love of reading from a very young age; I could easily devour several children’s novels in a weekend. The one thing I never had to beg for were books to read, & this day was no exception. As we were browsing the shelves, Mom with her new John Grisham novel & me with God-only-knows-what, Mom spotted a book on one of the “feature” tables. She’d heard about it – that it was a good book, the first in what would be a series. She bought it for me, of course.

I was quickly immersed in a world where the only limit was my imagination. Motorcycles flew through the air, piloted by half-giants. Owls delivered the post, to anyone (even without an address), even on Sunday. Frogs were made of chocolate, & “Every Flavor” really meant every flavor (ear wax, anyone?).

Page after page, I voraciously consumed each & every word. Pretty soon, I knew the rules of Quidditch, the name of a three-headed dog, & the sin that was to kill a unicorn. I learned that “the wrong sort” meant very different things to two very different eleven-year-old boys. I found that words overheard could hurt more than a mountain troll’s club, but that friendships are built on trust & loyalty. I learned that everyone has weaknesses, but more importantly, strengths.

Over the next eight years, I anticipated each of the six remaining books. I read book five in only three days (that’s 870 pages, if you’re curious). I eagerly awaited the movie series based on the books, though my heart remained true to the written words. When the seventh & final book was released, it was bittersweet.

Unless you’ve been living under a rock, you know what books I’m referring to. The Boy Who Lived, the one with the lightning-shaped scar, Harry Potter.

These books had shaped me, in ways I probably still don’t understand. They weren’t just magic & spells, Good vs. Evil, a quest for the ages. They were family & friends, hope & love, loyalty, life. They were goosebumps & chills, & the ability to breath fire when certain characters appeared (I’m looking at you, Bellatrix). They were so much more than just words on a page. They were a story. They were people, with hopes & dreams, anger & happiness, laughter & tears. They were rewarding & disappointing, uplifting & crushing. They were everything that we were, everything we hoped to be, & everything we hoped we’d never be.

Strangely enough, at the end of the last book, it didn’t seem like the end. Yes, I knew that it was the last book, but there were still movies to come – they were only just releasing Order of the Phoenix. So as I sat last night in the theater, my eyes welling up with tears, it was the ultimate end. After this, there would be no more. I mean, this isn’t exactly The Land Before Time. As the credits began to roll, I felt… lost. There was no proclamation of, “I can’t wait until they release the next one!” There just… was.

Upstairs, in a box, are my books. Waiting patiently for a bookshelf to reside on, they sit. One day, probably a few years from now, I will open the cover of that first book once again, this time with a little girl laying next to me in the bed. Harry Potter will teach her the lessons he taught me, & help shape her character as he did mine. Hermione will teach her that it’s okay to be smart, & that knowledge is power. Ron will teach her that friends are the greatest possession one has, & that a little laughter never hurt anyone. Neville will teach her that although things might not always go her way, her moment will come & she will shine. Luna will teach her that being different isn’t all that bad, & that true friends don’t mind anyway. She will learn that family isn’t defined by blood, but by heart.

& that no matter what, Hogwarts will always be there to welcome you home.

June 29, 2011


When you wish upon a star
Makes no difference who you are
Anything your heart desires
Will come to you

If your heart is in your dream
No request is too extreme
When you wish upon a star
As dreamers do

Like a bolt out of the blue
Fate steps in and sees you through
When you wish upon a star
Your dreams come true

I wish I were the type of person who gets up in the morning, eats breakfast, drinks a cup of coffee, surfsFacebook, & still has time to shower, blow dry my hair, put on makeup, & arrive at my destination no less than 10 minutes early.

I wish I were the type of person who washes every dish as it is dirtied, always has an empty laundry hamper, & never has dust bunnies under the bed (or under the coffee table, as it were).

I wish I were the type of person who prepares a delicious, home cooked meal every night, incorporating fresh, homegrown (or locally purchased) organic veggies. & who lovingly makes tomorrow’s lunch for each family member.

I wish I were the type of person who knows where every important paper & receipt is (filed, of course), without having to search through a stack the size of Mount Rushmore.

I wish I were a lot of things.

But I’m not.

May 23, 2011

Sister Wives.

Do you watch it? It’s a show on TLC that follows the Brown family. The Browns consist of Kody (the husband), Meri (the first & only legal wife), Janelle (the second wife), Christine (the third wife), Robin (the fourth wife), & their collective children (which I think total 17). The children go to public school, & Kody, Meri, & Janelle (& maybe now Robin, too) work outside the home. Meri actually lost her job not long after the premier & had to search for a new one. Christine stays home with the younger children. They used to live in Utah, but had to move after their show aired its first season. Why? Because Utah officials were investigating their family. Not because of abuse or neglect allegations, but because they are polygamists.

Now, let me just clear something up. I am not a polygamist. I would never be a polygamist. It’s not the lifestyle for me. But I respect the decision. & it is their decision. I believe it is their decision.

Let’s look at this at a few different angles for a moment.

A man, (we’ll call him Larry) has a rather, ahem, promiscuous sex life. He fathers several children with several different women. He makes no commitment to his children or their mothers. If the kids are lucky, he has a job & pays child support. If they are super-lucky, he spends every other weekend with them (presumably not also with their mothers). Unless someone suspects abuse or neglect, they live their lives without any interference.

Another angle. I’m sure you’ve heard of Jim Bob & Michelle Duggar & their 19 children. They own rental properties & car dealerships (& who knows what other businesses). They support their children, homeschool, go to church, & believe that the only birth control they need is faith in God. They buy used clothing, toys, books, cars. They built their own house from the ground up – it was a family affair, with all the kids pitching in to help.

So how do these compare to the Browns?  Well, in all situations there are multiple children with a single father. The Browns & Larry have multiple mothers in common. The Browns & the Duggars both support their children, share a commitment to each other, & have religious ties.

Personally, I think the Browns & the Duggars are miles above Larry & his baby mamas. They support their children, parent them, & are committed to each other in holy matrimony (the definition of which is dependent on their chosen religion).

So why are the Browns persecuted while the Duggars aren’t? Sure, the Duggars have their own share of nay-sayers, but as far as I am aware, none of them have resulted in legal issues. Both call on their religion to guide their family structures – the Browns follow a religion that embraces polygamy (though they have never publicly specified which religion), while the Duggars are Christians who believe that God will bless them with as many children as He wants them to raise. So why the disparity? Why should the number of women make a difference if Larry can have all the baby mamas he wants? At least Kody is present for his children.

There are blended families everywhere you look. We are one. McDreamy gets custody of Zola every other weekend. We rarely get to see her in between. Which means we go two weeks between visits. Based on what we see through the show (which I know is somewhat scripted, but seems to be pretty “real”), Kody sees most of his children on a daily basis. Sure, he may miss a few of the older kids a couple of days here & there, since they are off with friends or involved in sports, but by-&-large, they all get to see him at least once daily. We would love to have that opportunity. Does that make their family structure superior to ours? If it does, should we hire a lawyer?

& doesn’t Utah have anything better to use their resources on? Why spend so much time, money, & manpower to investigate a family that, for all intents & purposes, seems healthy, taken care of, & well-adjusted? It really makes no sense to me, except as a political move. Once the series premiered, media & the public’s attention was placed squarely on the Browns (& thereby Utah). Because of the controversial family structure & Utah’s anti-polygamy laws (which define polygamy as co-habitation vs. other states who prohibit multiple marriages), I can only surmise that the political bigwigs of Utah felt that something needed to be done. So, they initiated the investigation & waste of resources.

But wait! Didn’t the Browns bring this on themselves? NO. Yes, they decided to broadcast their polygamist lifestyle on a national level. But the ridiculous notion that polygamy should be illegal, is “wrong”, et cetera is to blame here. If this antiquated notion was put to rest, this family could go on living, as they have for decades. In peace. As a family. Happy. Healthy. Whole.

What’s so wrong with that?