Let me tell you about how we got our cat. She's a really pretty long haired cat that we obtained from the local animal shelter a few months ago after relentless requests from our older daughter for a family pet.

With everything so up in the air lately with regards to our family situation I was really apprehensive about getting a family pet, but as I said, my daughter was relentless.

It turns out that I'm allergic to cats. I had cats growing up and at some points in my adult years, but something about this cat makes me sneeze and cough as though I was rolling around in oleander bushes (something I really am allergic to).

When it became apparent that I can only spend limited time with this cat before my eyes start watering and my throat starts itching, the chore of brushing the cat's long fur falls on my husband. The kids aren't quite gentle enough yet for this delicate task, and when I do it I feel simply miserable afterwards even when I pop an allergy pill beforehand.

So now let me tell you about how our cat looks nowadays: She walks around with knots all over her fur, occasionally stopping to meow and pick at the lumps of matted fur that have developed on various spots of her body.

"Have you been brushing the cat's fur?" I'll ask my husband.

"I've been too busy," is his reply as he flips through the television channels.

"Will you please brush her out tonight?" I ask.

"Sure," he says, and then goes back to watching TV.

Sometimes he'll brush her, and sometimes he won't. I usually winds up taking the scissors to the tangles in her fur and cutting them out because she's obviously uncomfortable.

That poor cat didn't know what she was getting herself into when she came home with us.

My parents were always very affectionate when I was growing up. It was almost embarrassing how much they hugged and smooched each other, but there was something cool about it because it was obvious that they really loved each other and enjoyed being around one another.

My husband and I used to be pretty affectionate — after all, that's what I grew up with so it seemed natural — but the worse the issues in our marriage became, the less affectionate we became. You would be hard pressed to see us holding hands or embracing each other for longer than a standard, "Hi, welcome home from work" hug. We're so distant from each other that showing affection seems weird. Sometimes, I just don't want him to touch me.

What is this conveying to my kids? I know people say that a separation would damage my kids, but what potential damage are we doing by staying together?

We don't scream at each other, but we don't portray a married couple who necessarily enjoys being around each other. I don't want my kids to get the impression that this is what a marriage is supposed to be like. I know that the example my husband and I set right now will have a lasting impression on our kids forever. I'm really trying to not screw this all up.

My husband is thinking about taking a job overseas for a year. His boss wants to send him to a place that would not be feasible for the family to follow and besides that, anyone who has been paying attention to the news lately knows that it's really not the best time to try to sell a house.

If he gets this position then he'll move overseas temporarily, with a vacation sometime in the middle to come back and spend about a month at home.

The kids will miss him like crazy if he goes, but in my husband's line of work if he doesn't go now he'll have to go eventually.

We both figure that if he goes while the kids are as young as they are now then it won't be as traumatic. We figure our son may not even remember him ever being gone when he gets older.

What a pickle. We've both been trying to work on our marriage, but if he goes away then everything will go on pause. We won't have anything figured out, and it will be a weird sort of pseudo-separation where we're still married but we're not living together.

I can't decide whether that will be a good thing or a bad thing. I'll admit that the thought of living without him for a year is pretty appealing, just because I won't have to deal with him. On the other hand, if he isn't here and present then how can we ever get everything figured out one way or another?

Maybe the time away will reveal that we're better off apart than we are together, or maybe we'll pine over each other like mad and decide that the marriage is worth saving. I don't know. Either way, if he gets this position things are bound to get interesting.

A few months ago I read a Newsweek article written by a woman who was in the middle of a divorce. She and her husband had both come to the realization that the marriage wasn't going to work, so while they still remained friends they knew that divorce was inevitable.

Instead of splitting up the household goods, working out a custody arrangement for the kids, and then going their separate ways, they still lived together in the same house they bought as a married couple. They had separate bedrooms, but they still maintained the home concurrently. The kids knew the parents were divorcing at that eventually they would be split up into two households, but until the house sells they'll all stay together under one roof.

I remember thinking to myself as I read the article, "Is this feasible? Can two people who are divorcing share a house and not be freaked out the whole time?" I figured it must be an exceptional situation, and didn't give it much more thought until a friend recently told me about her neighbor who is doing the exact same thing. Apparently they're afraid to put the house on the market because of the current real estate environment, so they've set up separate bedrooms and they've already filed the divorce paperwork.

Does anyone else think this is weird?

If I filed for divorce I would not want to live in the same house as my husband. Maybe it's different for me because my husband absolutely does not want a divorce, so it would be weird to live with him and deal with the whole, "Are you sure you want to do this? Can't we work it out? How could you do this to me?" thing that I would probably get from him every single day. Not being able to be physically away from him would be bizarre, considering the circumstances.

I went ahead and answered the question as best as I could. I told her that sometimes parents don't stay together, and if they marry someone else then the new person becomes a step parent to the kids. She didn't quite get what I was saying — probably because all she has ever known are two parents who stay together and never speak about separation in front of the kids — so I approached it from a different angle. 

I told her this: "If mommy and daddy decided they didn't want to be married anymore, and then mommy eventually married another man, that man would be your stepdad." This seemed to clear it up for her, but I looked over at my husband and realized that I had just painted a picture of one of his biggest fears. Before I could say anything else, my horrified husband said to my daughter loudly, "...but that's not going to ever happen, sweetie, so don't you worry about it."  

I think this wins for most awkward conversation I've had in a while. 

The thing that really amazed me was that my daughter didn't seem particularly alarmed by the whole concept. I'm not naive enough to think that she could care less if we stay together or not, but it was certainly a surprise that she was so easily able to accept the fact that sometimes parents just don't stay together. I guess that sometimes I don't give my daughter enough credit for how smart she is.

If you would have taken a glimpse into my relationship with my husband a year ago and then had a look at it recently, you would probably notice something right away. A year ago my husband was a different guy. He didn't seem to care less if I was fighting a high fever, or if I had a deadline, or if the kids gave me a really trying day.

It didn't matter. He still wasn't going to lift a finger to help because keeping the house going was my job. Keeping the kids happy was my job. It just didn't seem to matter if I was wandering around in an exhausted stupor, because he was happy and had his video games to occupy him.

Cut to present day. Something about me trying to leave shook him up enough to where he does the things I always thought he should do be doing anyhow: he takes the kids when I have a lot of stuff to do, he'll make dinner once in a while if I'm running late getting home, and he'll encourage me to take a short nap if I'm not feeling well.

Those may sound like normal things a husband would do, but for me it's a 180 degree change from how things once were.

So what's the problem? Now that he's doing all the things I once wished he would do, why can't I just be happy? This is a question I have been struggling with for a while now. I think it all boils down to this: Why did it have to take me trying to leave for him to finally notice that something had to change?

For a couple of years I was obviously stressed out, exhausted and generally unhappy with the way things were. I told him things needed to change. I asked him to go to counseling with me. I begged him to cut back on his video game time. Really, if my bursting into tears at the drop of a hat wasn't a pretty good sign that things weren't working, what was?

My husband wants to go to a marriage retreat. It's for a full weekend, so we would have to leave the kids with someone else and then make the drive five hours to the retreat location. I don't like the idea of leaving my kids with someone else — especially since we don't have any family nearby — but as I keep saying, I'm willing to do whatever I need to in an attempt to save the marriage.

He's inquiring about availability now. I've talked to some couples who have gone to this same retreat and they all sing praises about the program. Apparently this particular program has saved many a marriage and lit sparks under others that weren't troubled but were bordering on stale. Could this be the thing that saves our marriage?

To be honest with you, the very first thought that entered my head when he brought up the idea was, "Damn it, he's going to want to have sex with me." I can see it now...we're away from the kids, away from work, and we're staying in a hotel room. He will think this translates into romance, while I automatically think about how great it will be to sleep without keeping one ear poised to listen for the kids. Ask me if a weekend in a hotel with my husband appeals to me right now, and I'll admit to you that no, it doesn't, not really.

Yes, we still have sex here at home, but it's usually him doing his business while I lay there and wait for him to finish. Take this to a hotel and he'll be expecting me to be all into the act, having a great time and really whooping it up.

It seems to me that a change in environment won't change the things that are stopping me from being truly intimate with my husband, but I know I'll feel compelled to oblige him with at least some physical intimacy.

Wouldn't it be great if these retreats offered separate rooms until other issues were resolved? I'd go to that one for sure.

I live far from my family. My husband's job demands frequent moves, so we go where his business is. I grew up in one part of the country and now I live in another.

Although the area we live in now is decent, I would probably not choose to live here of my own volition. I miss the beauty of my home state, and I miss my family terribly.

If I leave my husband, I'm going to find a little apartment here and stay in this area for as long as my husband does.

Yes, it would be much easier to pack up the kids and head back home, where I could undoubtedly stay with some relatives until I get on my feet. They probably wouldn't charge me rent or make me pitch in for groceries, and I'm pretty sure that they would be more than happy to take the kids occasionally so I could go job hunting or just have a few moments to myself.

So why won't I move back home? The main reason is this: Just because I want to leave my husband doesn't mean my kids want to leave him, too. They adore him. He's a good father, and my daughter favors him quite a bit.

Now don't get me wrong. I don't think that they would fare better with him if I granted him full custody. His patience with them is pretty thin after all-day exposure, but when he's gone at work all day and then comes home he's the coolest person ever, as far as the kids are concerned.

If we split up, it'll be hard enough for my kids, but if they're suddenly moved to an entirely different part of the country and never get to see the father who they adore, well, I'm pretty sure that's a recipe for therapy by the time they hit their 20s.

The plan is to stay right here in a town where I have no family and no reason to stay other than my husband, who — even if he becomes my ex-husband — is still the father to my kids. It will become really messy if he gets transferred to an entirely new location, but for now this is the only solution I can think of.

I read a really interesting article the other day about getting ready for a recession. I know some people say we're already in one, while others caution that a recession is on the horizon, but I can tell you that everyone I know has been tightening their belts and watching their money a little more closely. This article had a long list of things you should be doing now to get ready for tough times ahead.

After I finished reading the list, I thought to myself that another thing I should avoid with a recession is coming is this: getting divorced.

If I were to leave my husband right now and go get a tiny apartment for me and the kids I could probably make it with the money I earn right now — just barely — but that would be without health insurance for me and certainly without the daily stop at Starbucks I enjoy nowadays.

If the car breaks down, my goose will be cooked. If I need to fly home for a family emergency, it will be bad. If a recession hits and all of a sudden I start losing some of my freelance jobs and can't replace them with new ones, I won't be able to make it. If gas prices climb and the cost of groceries keeps going up, I'll be in big trouble.

If you're wondering if money issues are one of the reasons why I've been apprehensive about leaving, then yes...they are.

It would be different if it was just me. I could deal with eating Top Ramen all day long and camping out on a friend's couch if I couldn't afford to rent my own place. But I have a responsibility to my kids. I can't expect them to go from a relatively middle-class neighborhood with Mommy and Daddy to suddenly spending half their time in a dumpy apartment with Mommy, who, by the way, only serves Top Ramen.

I once felt close to my husband. I used to feel like we were a team. It was no fun to have fights and disagreements with him, but when they happened it never felt like the end of the relationship was on the horizon. Instead, it just felt like we would someday have to figure out how to better communicate with one another, but it was nothing dramatic.

Then came what I like to call The Big Disconnect. He started ignoring me. I started resenting him. He started having a short fuse with the kids. I threw myself into my work. I tried to leave him. He told me he wanted to kill himself. After all that, I did my best to ignore my urges to leave and work on building the marriage back up.

The problem is this: I don't know how to reconnect. I've tried ignoring my feelings, but it's not working. How do you recover from being treated like a doormat? Heck, I know some marriages that have bounced back after affairs and all sorts of crazy stuff, so what is wrong with me? It's not like my husband has ever cheated on me, or smacked me across my face, or gambled away our life savings. Yet things still feel wrong. I can't shake the feeling, and I've done everything I can think of to reconnect with my husband. Am I just carrying a grudge? Do I just like drama? Am I trying to teach my husband a lesson? I don't think so. I mean, really, if I knew how to reconnect with my husband, I would have done it by now.

It would make everything so much easier if I could just flip a switch in my head and reconnect. How do I do it?