| 2009 Meme. |
[31 Dec 2009|04:52pm] |
1. What did you do in 2009 that you'd never done before?
-had a plastic surgery consult
-Went away for a vacation weekend with just Grant
-rode around with my daughter, just the two of us...with her in the front seat
-had writing (AND ART!!) accepted for publication
-spent the night in a chair by a hospital bed
-ate coconut curry and lime leaves
-baked shortbread cookies
-sewed a quilt
-was a mother with no children in diapers
-saw a cat hit by a car
-got my nose pierced
2. Did you keep your new years' resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I didn't make any. I think I wanted to get over the worst of my PTSD, and I think I did. Tomorrow is my first day back on Eat to Live's 6 week plan, but that doesn't really count as a whole year resolution, obviously. I do have a HUNCH that 2010 is "my year" re: writing.
3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
My sister, just a couple of days ago now. And my cousin, several months back :) Little girls for both.
4. Did anyone close to you die?
Not exactly...but I took my mother to see her dead father, who's always been in and out of my life. We also lost Aaron's rabbit, Hoppy. And came to terms with the idea that my Dad's Dad has little time left :/ Two non-close friends lost their husbands to commuting car accidents.
5. What countries did you visit?
...the Conch republic?
6. What would you like to have in 2010 that you lacked in 2009?
More money. Membership in the Catholic Church. A book contract.
7. What date from 2009 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
I don't really notice dates. But I will by reminded of death and birth dates by others probably forever.
8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Losing 26 pounds in 6 weeks was nice, as was all the entertaining we did (great birthday parties for both girls, potlucks, Paige and Dama's longer visits, Thanksgiving with my Dad, sister's blessingway, a fire recently...), and I'm very proud of a lot of the writing I've done in the past year...but I think #1 is getting myself back to a place where I can help other people. I've been able to babysit friends' kids, send cards in the mail, take people dinners, bake extra for guests and be there for Laura as she had a baby. Take in my brother. It feels REALLY GOOD after how incredibly needy, dependent and USED UP I was for a couple of YEARS there.
9. What was your biggest failure?
The laundry? Getting us on a better schedule? I don't really care about those things, honestly. Probably it has something to do with this overwhelming and bitter feeling I get that I'm failing at everything sometimes, even though I know that really I'm not. So...failing to stay close to God even when I see the incredible help and strength when I do.
10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
Not really.
11. What was the best thing you bought?
Hmm...craft supplies? Or maybe A and A's loft beds, which were such a good Craigslist find.
12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
My Nana's Pa has really been THE MODEL of what a husband is supposed to be, as my Nana goes through life post-stroke. From continuing to send out the cards and gifts to grand and great-grandkids like she used to, to spoon feeding her with jokes and smiles and handling all the insurance bills and...it's amazing, it really is. He kisses her goodbye and changes her diapers.
13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
My brother's, at times. My Dad's girlfriend's at one point I don't want to talk about while they were here. My in-laws in disallowing Robby to withdraw and sign up for Virtual School.
14. Where did most of your money go?
Probably groceries.
15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
DAMA COMING FOR A VISIT WITH THE GIRLS, IN OCTOBER!! Elise's 2nd bithday party in May. Being back in action for fair rides and fun, especially re: Santa's Enchanted Forest.
16. What song will always remind you of 2009?
Probably Lily Allen's whole second album and a few Dresden Dolls songs. And "Heavy Cross" by The Gossip. NO WAIT! It's Feist's "I Feel It All".
17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
Thinner. Restless.
18. What do you wish you'd done more of?
SLEEP.
19. What do you wish you'd done less of?
Looking at stupid websites that mock people and situations.
20. How will you be spending Christmas?
I already wrote about this.
21. Did you fall in love in 2009?
I feel like I just keep falling further and further everyday. I'm in deep.
22. What was your favorite TV program?
The Office
23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?
I think I hate less people.
24. What was the best book you read?
The Silent Mountain; The Glass Castle. Both nonfiction.
25. What was your greatest musical discovery?
Shannon Wright? Thrice? New Pandora stations that come out awesome and imeem as it was before this MySpace takeover were probably the greatest discoveries.
26. What did you want and get?
To stop having nightmares all the fucking time. An extended social network and deepened ties with some friends.
27. What did you want and not get?
For my belly to not be like this. Sex about a hundred times more often. RCIA classes.
28. What was your favorite film of this year?
Hmm. I was happily surprised by how good Up was. But I think Grant and I had the most fun watching I Love You, Man. WAIT! I might say Julie and Julia. I saw that with Kristin, Jackie, Michelle F, and some others at an advance screening and it was really fun.
29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
28 - Grant and I went to Benihana by ourselves, got the Writer's Market book from B&N, and I ordered something I can't remember right now.
30. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
Getting enough sleep at night or actually having enough money the last half of the year.
31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2009?
I discovered that if I wear decent, modern maternity jeans I can wear jeans, and with the right shirts, nobody is the wiser. So dark jeans and hip length shirts of various styles. I've moved back to Converse (burgundy lowtops) and crazy socks (mismatched argyle today) and discovered I really like myself in dangly earrings.
32. What kept you sane?
St Jude, Grant's parenting help, and Starbucks (as a place to write and a brewery of happy potion)
33. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
Hmm....I kind of got a little case of Team Jacob. But mostly that kid is, well, a kid. With too much neck. Stuck in some really bad movies. I reaffirmed my undying love and near crush for Helena Bonham Carter several times over and was kind of surprised at how hot Jake Gyllenhall was in Brothers the other day. I'm not really too into fancying celebrities overall.
34. What political issue stirred you the most?
Gay rights.
35. Who did you miss?
Oh geez. Kathy. My Dad's side of the family when I wasn't there. My mom, all too often. Nana and Pa like crazy in the weeks leading up to Christmas Eve. Grant, because there were two toddlers between us in the bed.
36. Who was the best new person you met?
Michelle. The PATH one.
37. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2009.
The Prayer of St Francis. I could keep learning from that my whole life, but I spent a really long time this year just trying to figure out exactly how I can ever even pray it sincerely, like truly want to ask for what it asks for - let alone get there in my actions...
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace;
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.
O Divine Master,
grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood, as to understand;
to be loved, as to love;
for it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.
38. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.
With You and I, it's everything all of the time.... (Radiohead)
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[31 Dec 2009|04:05am] |
Curtis, on how my family argues: "You all deal with conflict the same way: control. All of you want to control the situation. And as a bystander, it's actually kind of funny to watch you all try and battle for who has the most. It's like that baseball bat game where you're each putting your hands above the last person, to see who gets the top spot. Except you guys keep stopping to hit each other with the bat. Your family would really benefit from Nerf gear."
We had a big blow up at the kitchen table over Christmas dinner. I saw it coming all day, and it was just as brief and ridiculous as I expected it to be. Dad yelled. Laurie got all awkward. Marika yelled. Marika ran away. Laurie ran away with Marika. I ran after them and kicked Laurie out (because Laurie has this innate TERROR of conflict that has a way of making everything SO MUCH BIGGER by her being all mousy about it. She seriously has no idea what to do with herself in a family full of big people who invite their issues to bed with them). I talked to Marika and let her vent, then we started laughing about it. We came back upstairs totally fine. Laurie was still weird. Dad apologized and explained where he was coming from. I explained where we were coming from. Everyone made up. Marika cried because she's still adjusting to "conflict that won't end in a violent argument" (re: her mom) and was still releasing. Laurie made a toast to how amazing Marika was and also started crying. Then we all spent the rest of the dinner making fun of ourselves.
Ah, Christmas.
But really? That's the best part: we're fucked up as a family but at least we can poke fun at ourselves for it. As not-fun as it is to have big yelling arguments, I'm honestly much happier having a family that occasionally has big, loud, angry outbursts rather than have a family that spends an entire holiday in passive-aggressive hell. Passive aggressive "I fear conflict" people take themselves so damn seriously: they could never make a funny joke about their temper, at their own expense, five minutes after losing it. I can always count on the sarcasm around the dinner table.
For example: a few minutes after dad very childishly bitched about doing the dishes I walked into the kitchen and said, "It's kind of hard to do the dishes for you when you're standing there doing the dishes."
"Well," he said, mildly irritated. "I'm standing right here. And the water is running. So I'm doing the dishes."
"Well," I replied, mocking his tone. "If you'd take a step over then I'd be standing right there with the water running. Doing the dishes."
"Okay fine then." He finally moved away, dancing a little jig out of the kitchen.
I yelled over my shoulder, "You know, for someone who bitches about the dishes you sure to spend a lot of energy trying to make sure no one else gets to them!"
"Such a martyr," Laurie added. Dad put a finger to his dimple and grinned.
Family events on this side are never boring, to say the least.
Before we left we had another first: our tire went flat and Curtis and I had to break the car apart looking for the jack and spare tire (which were under the car?) and spend an hour doing that, then getting a new tire from the only shop open in this rural nowhere town at this time of year. All this was instead of leaving the house at a reasonable time. By the time we finished I was so exhausted I had to back-peddle out of my promise to drive us home today, and instead vote for a triple espresso and a nap. In that order.
Another Christmas tradition - my mini mental breakdown - happened last night between about 10pm and 1am.
My meltdown de jour of this year has been "uselessness". How it relates to chronic pain. I've become rather good at this, if I may say so myself. I can get in and out of a massive meltdown in at least three hours flat. That's serious talent, right there.
On a more serious note: pain sucks. It sucks bad. When you're in pain you sit on your ass all day, doing nothing, ad feel exhausted by the end of the day. Multiply this by a decade, or your entire life, with a ratio of good days that's unpredictable and oft dwindling. This equals an intense feeling of uselessness. Whenever I'm down, I spend a lot of time kicking myself over this. How uselessness affects my business, my self-esteem, my sense of worth and accomplishment, pride, motivation and pretty much anything that makes life worth living.
In order to help fool myself into thinking I've done something useful... I read. More specifically, I research random bullshit that no one would ever care about. This fills me to the rim with an utterly useless composite of knowledge from a number of subjects that will never, ever come up in conversation. Between Cleopatra's reign, Napolean's battle plans, Freud's upbringing and the origins of genres of anime - I'm quickly becoming a walking Trivial Pursuit game. The only purpose is to satisfy my desperate need to be needed, and hobble into bed that evening able to say, "See? I wasn't useless: I learned something!". This complete and utter delusion actually works quite well.
This time the uselessness factor was largely focused on my business, most specifically how it stops me from ever taking any risk. Creatively, in marketing, with my clients... anything. I've become boring and safe, and I uninspired myself. I never just go out and take pictures for the fun of it anymore, not because I've lost the drive to, but because I get myself into such a thick critical loop before I even pick the camera that by the time five minutes has passed I already "know" that everything I ever touch turns to ash and I really shouldn't bother to try.
I regaled this all to Curtis in a sobbing heap in the guest bedroom of my father's home. He wisely said nothing, but listened intently, as he sensed this was one of those times were even a nod would somehow start a fight about how poorly had worded (or gestured) an answer.
On the 28th I had a driving session that involved going up 2.5 hours, shooting for two, and then driving home. I'd be gone all day long and would drive for most of it.
While I could drive as a teen, I became terrified to and didn't get behind the wheel again until a few months ago, when I refreshed my license and had Curtis "re-teach" me. I sitll can't paralel park, but everything else is going alright. Still, the idea of driving that far, for that long, on an unfamiliar and massive highway is a little intimidating.
I had a laundry list of reasons why I couldn't go do the session, all of them bullshit. I know I'd have no qualms if it was local.
Curtis offered to take the kids and drive me, but I shot him down: that's unfair. I can't disrupt my family every time I want to sit around in my hole and wrap myself in a cloak of nerves. I've let myself become so sort.
Curtis tried to argue that by even acknowledging I have these issues, let alone allowing someone else to hear them and try to help, is a huge step forward for me - that I shouldn't deny that.
"That'll look great on the fridge," I answered wryly. "That's not much of an accomplishment".
We ended up talking about inspiration, and how to find it, how to burst out of my little bubble of bullshit and actually do something new or challenging without criticism. In the end, he actually helped a lot with his suggestions... which doesn't happen a lot with things like this.
I made it a personal challenge to go out the next day with my camera and just shoot stuff. No more worrying, no more criticizing: be prepared to accept it'll all suck, throw it away and do it again another time, and be prepared to find some I like.
I originally had a whole plan of ideas that I wanted to try, but I was side-tracked mid-way through a walk down to the beach when I found a path in the woods that led to some sort of abandoned dumping ground for a few of the nearby houses. I ended up staying there half an hour and taking photos of the different textures. They may not be amazing, but I'm happiest knowing I actually took it to heart and did something.
Then I drove up to the session by myself the next day. It was exhausting and painful, but I didn't spend the entire trip in panic - which is another huge accomplishment.
Along the same subject: the WPPI awards have opened, both for album and for 16x20. I want to enter many photos. It costs a lot of money and is pretty serious competition (you're only playing against the entire world). I'm making Curtis twist my arm into it, because otherwise I can't bring myself to admit it might be a good idea and just fucking do it. The line-up of winners is exceptional, and I'm really not that confident I'm a match for them, but it's worth a try - right?
I'm going to Vegas in spring - at least I think I still am - as a personal invite to the convention. That scares the ever loving shit out of me even more. It's so much easier to sit around thinking I suck all day, reading Wikipedia and pouring through PubMed.
This growing up thing is hard.
Yule and Christmas came and went. We're back from dad's house and are still recovering from the exhaustion.
Dad's partner is exhausting. Watching them argue is like watching a train wreck. Dad knows he has issues, but I don't think she'd recognize hers if they hit in her in the face. We're still knee-deep in damage control on Xan's never ending tantrums, which she helped bring up thanks to her incessant coddling of ANYTHING small and weepy. If Xan stubbed his toe she was in there scooping him up. She reinforced all his bad behaviors, all his attention seeking behaviors, all his tantrums, all his inappropriate sister-hitting sibling rivalry... it was awful. By the time we got home he was a screaming mess all the time.
And don't even get me started on how she treats the dogs. It's enough to make both Curtis and I pull our hair out. She's a social worker, and she does that "thing" that they all do: the condescending roundabout talk thing where you're never, ever allowed to feel your own emotions god forbid they be big and hairy.
This is a perfect example of how Shit Starts with her.
Dad works damn hard all day long on dinner, almost entirely singlehandedly (partly for stubbornness, and partly because everyone else in the house was busy with other stuff.... like kids). At the end he made a beautiful pumpkin pie from scratch. As he was pulling it out of the oven, it flipped over and landed in pieces in a cast iron dish. He stood there staring at it, jaw agape, unable to react.
All of us were sitting at the table talking, and we all stood there staring.
You have to admit that's devastating, frustrating - everything! ANYONE would be upset. Me? - I cry in times like that. Dad gets irritable.
Instead of validating the feelings (God forbid), asking a question or dealing with it in some other appropriate way, Laurie immediately runs into the kitchen and starts cleaning it up. She doesn't say a word. This is the, "Don't worry, I'll fix it!" side. Everything is about her. Everything.
So naturally dad gets irritable. He snaps at her not to do that; he wants to do it himself. She won't stop, she just keeps doing it while challenging him about why he won't accept her help, all quiet and meek in that way she does. He asks her to get away. She still goes on. Eventually he speaks with much more fervor, clearly agitated, and demands she get out.
She leaves, totally offended that he's pissed at her and she was clearly trying to help.
With that finally out of the way he takes a minute to feel his feelings. Sensing that he's finally getting space for that, Curtis and I throw in a joke. Curtis says that the pie is so good we'll all just take a spoon after dinner and eat off the stove.
Dad reaches into the oven and says, "Good thing I made two!". We all laugh. Crisis averted.
Laurie is still obviously visibly upset that he was mad at her, and has forgotten all about the hard work he put in (no recognition from her, but off-handedly from us), the frustration of seeing it all go awry OR validation that brushing it off was a good thing (by joining in with the joking).
This happened every day, all day long. She has this "He just overreacts so much" attitude about him that rubs me the wrong way. It's no secret dad has issues: it's not like we're unaware that he can lose his temper, but she sure doesn't help. It's like she's permanently seven years old where the world is all about her, she can fix anything, and anyone's passing frustration is immediately reflected on her behavior.
It was exhausting.
I love her, I really do... but damn that woman needs some counseling. That self-righteous social worker thing just does not fly in this family: we don't beat around the bush.
Photos from the holidays and beyond. ( Read more... )
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[30 Dec 2009|03:04pm] |
I got a call at about 2 yesterday afternoon that my sister was in labor! I don't know how it can be that this kind of news is always so shocking and amazing, even when you've been seeing the enormously pregnant person daily for weeks talking about how she's due any day. But it is. So I went and got Brian and about 6 hours later I had a call - she had a little girl! AT HOME! We SO NEED MORE GIRLS, so this is good.
I got there when she was 30 minutes old, with midwives still all over the place. She was wrapped in the quilt I sewed for her *melts*. She looks EXACTLY as my sister did as a newborn, it's nutso. Laura didn't tear this time, and the baby was already nursing well and calmer than Brian was, and sheesh. It is just great. Frank was all excited.
He actually said, "I'm ready for the next one, let's go for broke!!" I was laughing. As we went through all the things they can say now - "childREN, kidS, son AND DAUGHTER", with a lot of "whoa"ing.
I love for Ananda (who came with me) to see NORMAL birth, happy healthy birth.
( Also true )
ETA: My intuitive Aaron, I swear. I came home with Brian and he said, "Laura's in labor?!" and I said, "Yep". He sat down suddenly, looking wide eyed and serious. I said, "It's going to be ok!" and he answered, "I'm not thinking about you, and I'm happy. It's just going to really hurt a lot for her."
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| The Answer to the Linguistic Problem is the Same as the Answer to the Political Problem |
[30 Dec 2009|01:41pm] |
I mentioned the words "snowmobile" and "snowmachine" to my upstate NY grandfather. He said that snow machines were what the ski slopes used when nothing fell from the sky, the vehicles are called snowmobiles. In fact, this seems to be the consensus usage in the northern band of the US, with predictable intrusions by the preferred Canadian term ("ski-doo") and one big regional exception: Alaska.
In Alaska, apparently, saying "snowmobile" marks you as an outsider, from the lower 48, and presumably something of a junketeer. Alaska, however, is also the home of Sarah Palin, who has recently made performative hostility to outsiders a key mark of "real americans." Ever the lover of authenticity, she says "snowmachine" to describe her husband's preferred sport vehicle, and cheerfully chastises anyone who, like my grandfather, betrays their citified intellectualism by using That Other Word. In keeping with the trend whereby conservatives adopt a rural, working class brand identity (listen to right-ish news anchors droppin' their final G's, for instance) you now hear plenty of people in the lower 48 say snowmachine.
So I looked it up. As it turns out on this thread actual aficionados of riding around on the things tend to use a third term- sled. In fact, this word seems to span all the way from the Adirondacks to the Bering sea (well, except maybe Canada) without ever mis-scanning. So possibly, Palin has miscalibrated her image. If she actually wanted to pander to the people she claims to be one of, rather than the people she wants to impress with her authenticity, she would say "sled." Todd Palin is a champion sledder.
Just one more example of how the new right is not actually the demographic it claims to be, and is in fact every bit as intimidated by that demographic as the left. Throw this in the same bag as Levi Johnston's assertion that Palin m&eacu;re is in fact a terrible hunter, who can barely handle a gun. As one commentator put it, Johnston may be a political and interpersonal idiot, but he does know shooting...
A
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| Quote of the day |
[29 Dec 2009|03:29pm] |
It is a weakening and discoloring idea that rustic people knew God personally once upon a time, but that it is too late for us. There never was a more holy age than ours, and never a less. There is no whit less enlightenment under the tree by your street than there was under the Buddha's bo[dhi] tree.
~Annie Dillard
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| Health is really something we take for granted. |
[28 Dec 2009|09:46pm] |
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Aaron playing piano |
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I was so sick yesterday. Like, couldn't hold my head up or my eyes open but couldn't sleep because I was too nauseus, sick. When I wasn't actually puking. Little things like being able to HAVE A CONVERSATION feel novel again, today.
We had an a-ma-zing get together the night before, and I'm really hoping nobody went home with germs and is suffering now. Grant dug a firepit with Bob and the kids and gathered materials and hosed down the grass around it, and it was really just meant to be a s'more party, but we ended up having the Wii set up on a projector in the side yard and sitting around in various rooms talking and also just hanging out around the fire warming our feet - as it was actually a chilly night. It was Laura and Frank for awhile, with Brian for longer (he stayed while they went to a wedding), Kristin and her kids Naja and Darrien, Shaun, my nephew Robby (14), and all of us. It was just one of those times that clicks and everyone enjoys every minute like it's magic. I had made a big pot of chicken and yellow rice earlier in the evening and had a lot of leftover strawberry and chocolate chip muffins, and pitchers of cold iced tea. Laura and Frank were gone by 11:30-ish, Kristin and her kids and Shaun left at like 3 in the morning and Robby spent the night. I think by the time he, Annie and Aaron went to bed their Rock Band band had achieved "Legend" status in San Fransisco.
Christmas Eve kind of sucked a lot, until the end. I had a lot of way-too-emotional talking with Grant and my sister about my mom, and my brother, and my journal entries, and history, and blah blah blah. I was mostly locked in my bedroom all day, wrapping presents and crying on the phone. BUT THEN we went over to Laura's, once Grant and Frank were off, and that ended up being kind of awesome. L and F had bought aaaaaalll this food - honeybaked ham and turkey from the honeybaked ham place, meat and cheese platters, pickle and olive platters, cheeseball with crackers, chips with cheese dip, huge fruit salad, just a ton of stuff. We played Pandora carols and Frank's sister, Linda, came with her kids, too, and it was fun. After Linda and the kids left I gave Laura, Frank and Brian their presents from us and felt really happy that they were all perfect, and then my 5 + Brian opened everything we'd gotten in the mail from Nana and Pa, and my Mom.
AND WHOA. My Nana and Pa sent each kid a gift bag full of small things, with an envelope with $50 in it stapled to the side. My Mom sent each kid a wallet full of gift cards. So they have major shopping adventures ahead. Ananda is talking about saving for either an iPod or spending money for Harry Potter World, and I'm looking forward to getting Elise some new clothes because she's starting to run low, but otherwise I think it's a free for all for the boys. I think Jake got gift cards to Coldstone Creamery, Toys R Us and Target, for instance. Annie got them to Starbucks, Target and Barnes and Noble. She actually told me, "I think since I got a Barnes and Noble gift card and have a library card now, I might actually be able to save my money".
We got out of there too late to make it to Midnight Mass at St Louis, so we rushed to Sacred Heart...where the Midnight Mass was in creole. Their english one was at 10. So, we ended up coming home and reading the Christmas story from the bible and saying the Lord's Prayer. And then they all opened their Christmas pajamas to sleep in.
Still half in their fancy getups:
( Rest of the post, pictures throughout )
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| v.28.1 |
[28 Dec 2009|03:53pm] |
i'm one month into my 28th year and i've begun doing things very uncharacteristically cara (namely, gaming and reading graphic novels).
if this is how it begins, i'm excited to see how it ends. already i am 2/3 prepared to begin some serious canning, and if that's not bad enough, i am also officially guilty of creating a cat calendar. like, the 12 months of truman and bella kind of cat calendar.
i swear, i get cooler by the minute!
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| Happy birthday, husband |
[27 Dec 2009|10:30pm] |
Today we had breakfast together, Sean opened gifts, the boys played new games while I read in pj's, I baked a spice bundt cake with cream cheese drizzle, dressed up in a skirt and tights (and both boys in ties!) made bean ratatui with rice together with Sean, took family portraits by the tree with the tripod, watched Up and snuggled on the couch with my boys, went out to dinner and now relaxing and opening the wine! Happy birthday my love!
( More )
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| A Christmas and It's Eve |
[25 Dec 2009|10:17pm] |
Christmas, in all, was a success. For it's eve, we spent the evening with my side of the family at my parent's house (after a rousing baking fest of cranberry buckle--thanks for the recipe coriandersea--, milk and white chocolate with peppermint bark cookies and whole wheat bread!). We listened to carols, drank lambic and wine, ate Italian and gave and received gifts. It's always in the evening, with all the Christmas lights lit and we dress up happily. There are loads of little ones running all about. It's part crazy and part fabulous.
Christmas day was just as sweet. Icy in the morning, with gifts and pj's and snuggles at home. And then driving off to Sean's parent's. We show up, shuffle out of coats and scarves, excitedly fill up our mugs with coffee and make it down to the basement where the tree and gifts await. We open all presents (glorious the giving, I tell you!) and then watch Christmas specials and visit. Then we head back up to eat a feast for lunch (roast beast!) and spend the rest of the afternoon fingering new gifts, telling stories and visiting. The electricity went off for a couple of hours! So, we ate by candlelight and giggled at how gitty lights-out can make one!
All very good things. I am blessed in so many ways. I am thankful, over and over.
If you missed it, this year's Christmas carols are up and ready for a listen here.
And, happy birthday Jesus.
( More )
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[25 Dec 2009|11:52am] |
Overheard on Christmas morning:
Dad: When do you think they'll stop putting Tiger Woods' affairs in the sports section?
Me: When it stops being a sport to watch his career self-destruct.
Dad: Ho ho ho!
His friend: Four more hoes and you'll catch up to Tiger!
There were a lot of unnecessary Tiger Woods' jokes this holiday. It was actually kind of hilarious.
Laurie: You got me with your toenail last night!
Dad: Oh no.
Laurie: Really got me. You almost severed my ankle.
Dad: Oh that's terrible. I got you. You know that's why my sister and I stopped sleeping in the same bed as little children: I used to get her with my toenails.
Laurie: You took it right off. My poor foot!
Dad: Was that your foot in I found in the bed?
Laurie: Why yes, yes it was.
Curtis: At least it wasn't some stranger's foot. That would raise a number of questions.
Laurie: Well, I got it fixed this morning. You know, got up early and had it reattached.
Me: That's good. Don't go ruining the holiday by walking around with your stump on Christmas morning.
Curtis holds up the contents of his stocking: But if you did we could clean it up with ShamWOW!
Dad: I had all the bedsheets made of ShamWOW!
Me: Wow! Look at that blood disappear!
Dad: Now I don't even have to get up in the middle of the night to pee anymore.
Curtis: Now extra absorbent! Can hold an entire body worth of blood!
Me: Get rid of the evidence with ShamWOW!
Marika realizes that half of her stocking was made of asinine "As seen on TV!" products: Wow, it's like you walked by a kiosk and bought everything on it. All we need is a SlapChop!
Me: There actually was one of those there.
Marika: What?! And you didn't buy it?
Curtis: Awww.... now who will love my nuts?
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| So happy. |
[25 Dec 2009|01:52pm] |
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Beatles - So This is Christmas |
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All 5 kids running around in flannel Christmas pajamas into the afternoon.
Husband off (paid) for the next 11 days.
Everybody so damned excited about everything they're getting.
The St Nicholas picture had Isaac jumping up and down screaming.
SO MUCH CHOCOLATE FOR ALL OF US.
Bob even laughing at his Spiderman underwear and open to his BROWN cords and obviously touched by the football he'd wanted.
Whole family digging through the stockings I sewed myself and stuffed last night.
We ran a dozen strawberry chocolate chip muffins over to Grant Srs for him and Patrice, Nadia and Robby. Barefoot 4 blocks and not knocking.
Grant is making bacon and eggs in the kitchen for us all to have "breakfast".
And we've got good places to go and people to see and the BIKES surprise later, and geeeeez is there going to be a whole lot of cash and gift card shopping for these children in the days to come.
Grant made the most amazing big wooden swords for Ananda and Aaron, each with their names wood burned into the handle. Also the coolest boxes for Isaac and Elise, his with a money slot and a lock and hers covered in cool pictures and laminated over with wide clear tape.
We had a great little prayer-and-scripture thing in our giant bed last night, all 7 of us.
Alright I gotta serve some plates.
MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!
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[24 Dec 2009|05:07pm] |
I was link surfing earlier and happened across this post by (ironically) someone I don't know at all and it got me thinking about the same sort of deal.
This has been on my mind ever since I figured out that I somehow attracted a readership of somewhere around 50'000 people a month. You know that LJ stats thing they just introduced? Mine said I get between 2500 and 6000 visits a day. I'm ... okay with that, while somewhat mystified as to how it has happened. I'm not about to do things like privatize my entire journal or scream about hating the internet. To be honest, most of the time it's cool to have a large readership: if I'm curious about something or in need of support, there's always lots of people who can lend caring, and diverse responses. You have to admit that's cool.
When Jericho died I kept all the letters and gifts that came to my house: there were dozens upon dozens, most from people I didn't even know. Some from the parents of readers, writing me letters about their own experiences losing children decades ago... it was incredible. Four years later I still regularly use the shawls and blankets that were very lovingly created for my family.
When I get emails from people who say that something they read here was touching, or new, or obnoxious (but, still made them think), or helped them talk to someone, or reach out, or feel they weren't alone... then that's also really cool. I keep those, too.
That said, it does get weird when I start getting the kinds of emails and letters that aren't as neat, the "I saw you, therefore I have status - do you want to hear about my status?" emails. Or, approached by hysterical strangers on the street.
So, I kind of want to say the same sort of thing, except without being quite so aggressive. There are appropriate and inappropriate ways to approach someone you think is cool on the internet.
Not appropriate: getting 5-8 emails a week that say, "I saw your family walking somewhere, and this is what you were wearing, and you were shorter in real life and omg you're cool and I think I know where you live now. I followed you for blocks! Will you talk to me on the phone?".
Appropriate: Waving and smiling politely, perhaps saying hello if you're not too shy.
Not appropriate: Exclaiming "You're real!" or, "You're BEAUTIFUL". Particularly in public situations like on transit, or while I'm shopping, so that a crowd of other people start staring and wondering who I could 'be'.
Appropriate: "Are you Babs/Heather/Babyslime? Cool. Was nice meeting you, see you later!"
Not appropriate: following me and Curtis for several blocks (and we totally know you're there), then posting about it in your journal. It always gets emailed to me by your friends.
Appropriate: Either actually giving a polite greeting, or turning around and walking the other way.
Not appropriate: Coming up out of nowhere, bursting into tears, and touching me/my children's hair or faces.
Appropriate: Not touching me or my children under any circumstances. If you feel yourself about to become hysterical, please see the nearest doctor.
I could go on, but I won't. Seriously though - I do live in a big(ger) city now, and get way, way too many, "I know where you shop, but I swear I'm not creepy" emails every week. I'm not really the type of person to be scared of people in my bushes, but I must admit this does get unnerving at times - not so much because I think I'm in danger, but because that's fucking odd, dude. I really don't want to start seeing the merit of wearing those giant-ass shades at 11pm at night.
If you want to say hi, please do so. Like a normal person would to another normal person. You may know a lot about my life, but I don't actually know you at all, and you are a stranger to me. I'm happy to meet new, interesting people - particularly if they think I'm cool for some reason (as this is rare in real life), but please act like a normal person.
If you find yourself freaking out, arm-flapping, peeing, or bursting into tears, take a moment to ask yourself: "Do I want to be brought up in someone's therapy session?".
Our house is now a mess again. That was short-lived. Yule tore the house apart, and this morning it's a mess due to packing. We're going up to spend the rest of the holidays with dad (et all).
The kids are knee-deep in presents, even though it seemed at the time like we got them very few. They want to bring everything up to visit Crazy Grampa (as he prefers to be called) and we're having a serious problem paring down the "must have" list of toys for a relatively short visit.
So far we have all the crayons/markers and colouring books, Xan's wooden train tracks plus several handfuls of cars and trains, Tempest's new Berenguer doll with stroller and blankets, her My Little Pony knock-off carrying case with about 12 ponies and brightly coloured mini-dolls, the Invent-a-Tent set, books, and all the presents and stockings we're saving for Christmas morning with the extended family. Our car is going to be fucking packed on the way home.
We haven't seen Marika in over a week: she's been up visiting dad, her friends and her boyfriend for the entire holiday break. Xan has been wandering around the house in a tearful daze asking for, "My Reeka" since she left.
This gave us a chance to do some serious gift shopping for her. We sort of went overboard, considering that she's not really our "kid" and we originally intended not to outdo anyone else (like dad, who has a very limited budget)... so, now we have about half a dozen gifts for her ranging from a lava lamp to professional artist supplies.
So, they are now officially from "everyone".
At the last minute we picked up Daddu a gift card, and I just finished Laurie's "Booga Bag" this morning. Of course, now I feel bad because neither of them had the cash to give us gifts this year and seconds before either of these things were done they had left a message on our machine saying that we'll call it even and a "kids holiday".
Well... I guess this means for the first time in my life, the kid gets to give a present to the parent and they don't get to give one back! That's actually kind of awesome.
I kind of suck at entry writing lately; but I've also been insanely busy. I solemnly swear to go back to normal in the new year.
Quotes of the Day:
Curtis and I discover that our last blanket for the bed has a spot on the corner of it that looked suspiciously like cat shit, and at midnight we move it into the laundry room and start up the washing machine. Only after we start it do we realize that all of our comforters are dirty. However, we have to use something because it's fucking cold in the house and we can't just crank the heat and sleep with nothing.
Curtis disappears into the laundry room and returns some time later carrying a mysterious comforter.
"Is that clean?" I ask with distain.
"I have no idea," he says. "It was on the floor".
"Um..."
"Okay, Heather --" he begins, "Last I knew this comforter was taken off our bed because we just wanted to change it after a few weeks of use. Not because it had been peed on, shat on, puked on or cum on. Like all our other blankets were. In large quantities." He flicked it out onto the bed. "This one wins."
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[24 Dec 2009|01:36pm] |
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music |
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Fiona Apple, please please please |
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Ok, yi'zall, I am like, 500 pounds lighter and so freaking relieved, because I have had An Epiphany.
As previously stated, yes, my brother can be a pain in the ass. BUT. (Also previously stated) I've been feeling SO put upon, SO insanely irritated, SO emotional about all of this, way beyond the point he's actually a pain to. I've also been unable to open myself up and do much of anything for him, which sort of defeats the purpose of bringing him down at all.
It's my Mom. Totally and all my mom. I've been suffocating, drowning in the pressure of feeling like she's looking down on me and being so pissed and unforgiving if I enforce any consequences. I don't want to feel obligated and responsible for Bob because otherwise I'll be disowned and lose a parent.
When he actually told her we were going to kick him out, and she actually cried and yelled and then didn't contact me and ignored my sister's email, I got to a worst case scenario situation that somehow...gave me objectivity. Like, ok, THAT? That is not Bob's fault.
She's never thanked me. Not for tucking him in and stroking his hair as a baby, for watching him during all her shifts while he was a toddler. Never thanked me for taking him outside with me everytime I left to play, for meeting with his teacher and helping him with his homework in 6th grade, for playing checkers with him at Starbucks. I never got any gratitude for having him living with us for months at a time as a younger teen, for buying him new glasses, for helping him study for the GED.
What I have gotten, VERY CONSISTENTLY, is "Why did he break that while I was working? Weren't you even watching him?" and "Why did Grant get irritated with him for breaking his Dad's stuff and scaring your kids with his anger?" And a lot of "You don't understand him like I do, Tina" and "He needs me".
Well. Maybe he does. Maybe he did. She hasn't usually been available. He gets a substitute, halfway mom who is either, you know, 11, or has her own kids to deal with. And that has to be good enough, not because I suck that badly but because I am what he's got.
He told me, CRYING, yesterday, that he feels like she's done the same thing his Dad did - dissapear out of his life without looking back. I understand she's extremely preoccupied with MAJOR stuff... but she calls me all the time. She was emailing me for awhile there, saying "Bob's trying to call me again, can you just call and see what he needs?"
So yeah. I'm cutting that loose. I love my Mom, no matter what, but I'm gonna try HARD to not give two shits what she thinks of how I'm doing with Bob because, really? IT DOESN'T MATTER. He's a grown ass man which means she no longer has power which means, NOW IT'S MY TURN. As my sister has pointed out, anyone else who was in her position would walk on eggshells talking to me about him because there's just so much stuff I could say back to her about it. But I never do.
And I'm not going to start. I don't think she's aware I'm making new journal entries. I'm just going to quit giving a damn about her where Bob is concerned. Completely.
With that in mind, and knowing that we are unofficially "not talking" and with nothing else to lose in that arena...I broke down and really got a lot out of viggorlijah and gardenmama's comments and talked with Grant a lot and actually looked at this situation.
I've been very fixated on jobs for a lot of reasons. But, I've completely overlooked other areas of progress, as a result. LIKE, he's went from the first day Frank took him out where he would only ask if people were hiring, to the second day when he actually applied at places, albeit badly, to the third, when he shook managers hands and introduced himself politely and things. The truth is that I know on some level that it's setting him up for failure to demand things he's not capable of. And when you're talking about someone who types "bus" into the search engine and then combs through every result, confused, for half an hour afterward and who doesn't know the months or what "prefix" means on an app...the expectation should be that he continuously improve and keep trying with help, not that he go out on his own and land himself a job right away.
It wasn't quite like that (us expecting him to just land himself a job) - he has had the days with Frank, we did take him out shopping for appropriate clothes, I have helped him with apps here at the house. But I think the expectation for him to go out and do this independently, and immediately, was premature with him. Unrealistc. Totally logical for a normal 19 year old, but if he was a normal 19 year old he wouldn't BE living with me.
But what I really mean about progress is, non-job progress. He does a ton of chores around the house everyday - many WITHOUT BEING ASKED, which is brand spanking new for him. He's GREAT with the kids, all the time. And though he gets mad still sometimes, it's not nearly as often as it was 2 years ago, and I honestly can barely even imagine him moving onto destroying property or hitting oranges with bats to vent it, now, which he used to do routinely. DAILY. Now he just glowers and scowls for 20 minutes, when he's pissed.
Yesterday morning I thought about all this a lot and talked to Grant a lot and then we decided we'd go talk to him about it. We knocked on his door...and he wasn't there. Awhile later I found out it's because he actually put on his interview clothes, left the house, walked and went and applied to all the places he thought were too crappy before, in the plaza 5 blocks away. I told him I was proud of him and he was like...glowing and blushing, it's funny.
So we sat down on the deck swing and made him sit between us, which made him laugh uncomfortably because that basically means hip to hip to hip, and told him listen, we love you and we're just not going to let you fail. You're past your deadline and that means you're doing this OUR WAY now, like, you're sitting down to dinner with us and eating healthy food, you're going places with the family if you're gonna be a part of it, and you're gonna get a job, and you're gonna volunteer and we love you. And then we hugged him. And he got all teary eyed.
AND THEN.
He said we should pray about him getting a job and maybe if it works he'll come to church.
This is fucking momentous coming out of his mouth people, you cannot imagine.
So then he and A and A triple teamed the little kids while we went "last minute couple of things" Christmas shopping, including fleece for me to sew him a stocking to match the other huge, home-sewn fleece stockings. His is black with skulls. It's kind of awesome. I also got him bright, his-sized Spiderman underwear, also awesome. And some dark brown cords I hope can begin to branch him out from all black all the time. On sale at Target.
He came out to my friend Kristin's house, where I had a marshmallow-making date, and he played ping pong with her neighbor's kids and helped get an attachment off her pasta maker that was stuck on and carried everything out to the car for me.
I went in his room to get my sewing machine at 11 last night. HE WAS IN BED ASLEEP. It was the weirdest moment of my life.
I'm sure things will be hard and crappy sometimes. I don't think my epiphany = magic. I still have a lot to do and deal with every day. But I'm finding that shrugging it off and saying, "we have six kids" is not so bad. It's a hell of a lot better than an hour long WHAT ARE WE GONNA DO ABOUT BOB hash out everyday.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, it is Christmas Eve and I am obligated to contact my grandparents, and probably even my MOM. We'll see. Other than this I am not at all stressed about Christmas, like, the craft-presents that aren't done will get done someday, the mess isn't bothering anyone, we're having a good time chilling with the windows and doors open and good weather and Christ is born, Emmanual, God With Us.
Anyway yeah, viggorlijah and gardenmama, I really liked everything you had to say x a million.
Dude, I just realized there are chickens in my dining room. WTF. All cluckity clucking like they aren't INSIDE. I guess they're taking care of the breakfast crumbs, except, no really, gtfo.
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[23 Dec 2009|08:30pm] |
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Anyone know of any jobs? ;) Posted via LiveJournal.app.
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[23 Dec 2009|08:29pm] |
I hate holidays :(
My mom has been panicking about the cleaning. I keep telling her I'll do it. So when I go to clean, I tell her someone needs to watch Alana, and naturally, she acts like I just asked for her liver. Posted via LiveJournal.app.
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[23 Dec 2009|08:29pm] |
I hate holidays :(
My mom has been panicking about the cleaning. I keep telling her I'll do it. So when I go to clean, I tell her someone needs to watch Alana, and naturally, she acts like I just asked for her liver. Posted via LiveJournal.app.
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| Happy Christmas Eve, Eve! |
[23 Dec 2009|07:27pm] |
Oh, sigh, sigh, sigh. I love Christmas! I only have a few more gifts to wrap (ehem, privacy husband). I am so excited to give. I keep forgetting about getting anything! And, that's being honest. I promise. I'm excited to make my loved ones happy and their Christmas brighter. I'm hoping that my son will follow in our giving footsteps (although he can not simply lose focus on the thought of being given so much coming soon!). They made goodies for mom's and dad's at school and he did wrap some little things (he made bracelets!), including a few of his random happiness-things (pastel erasers and colorful paperclips). They had pajama day at school. Even the teachers had pj's and slippers!
For those that aren't waiting with bated breath (we love you!), that don't already know of the tradition, each year Sean & I record Christmas Carols and make albums for our families to enjoy. Some of our past Christmas carols can be found here. And, as tradition calls for, this year's carols will follow some time on Christmas Eve Day!
Tomorrow shall be baking and off to drive about an hour and a half to see my side of the family. Lots of good food is being prepared and my new heeled booties that I received in the mail a little ways back. Oh, my tomboy side is held close to my heart. But, this girl loves to dress up! Haha
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[23 Dec 2009|12:28am] |
I'm kind of amazed with how productive today was.
I took decent care of Grant and good care of Aaron, both of whom were sick with whatever Annie and Isaac had last week. Annie and Isaac did schoolwork today, significant amounts of it. I made oatmeal for breakfast and scallops and brussels sprouts and things for dinner. I read to everyone a lot, the chickens got plenty of free roaming time, all animals were fed and tended to. Elise's hair was done and her outfit matched and I actually got her to take a nap. Baths happened and we watched educational videos on YouTube and planned a Christmas Eve Itinerary and confirmed our plans for Kristin's house tomorrow, and they even went to bed at a decent time. I also did a much better job with healthy eating than I have been previously.
AND YET.
It's all overlayed with this very crappy situation with my brother. I've had, like, NOT A JOKE, over a dozen "we don't want to kick you out, why in the hell aren't you out applying to jobs right now? Bob you're past your deadline by a day and I've even contacted Shawn about you moving there but, dude, you could be hired already and appealing this decision if you wanted to. You could be up at the plaza going place by place filling in apps, it is 5 blocks away, what is the problem" conversations. He makes half-hearted excuses and light jokes. Today he mowed the front, side and back yards and he played phone tag and sat on hold and re-called and waded through automated options, to get the CELL PHONE my mother sent him activated (on her account)...he instigated and played Scrabble with the kids. He cooked himself frozen pizzas. He did not do ANYTHING related to finding a job. Despite my reminders, my prodding, my half-begging him to DO SOMETHING RELATED TO FINDING A JOB.
I feel very hopeless and frustrated about this situation. Two impossible things happened today:
1. I was in his room, where my craft supplies still are, looking for fabric and notions, and I saw his computer was open to a google search. He actually had typed in the word "bus" in google and had been trying to sift through all the myriad results that come from that. This is like finding out he doesn't know the months of the year; I get simultaneously heartbroken about the massive gaps in his knowledge base that make things impossible for him, and TOTALLY OVERWHELMED by the idea of being responsible for fixing all that. Also, his pride does not help - I have offered before to help him figure out the bus schedules or even ride it with him the first time, to no avail.
2. Apparently he called my mother and told her we're kicking him out during the conversation. And apparently she cried hysterically and freaked out. The one part I had retold to me involved him telling her that we aren't mean and evil, we just can't afford it and I have to think about my family, to which she yelled, "YOU ARE HER FAMILY!" So yeah, this is awkward. Coupled with how I no longer have unlimited long distance (we downgraded to lower the bill, along with reducing our internet speed) to call her, and we're about to have Christmas Eve apart for the first time ever in my life, I predict a rapid deterioration of our relationship.
Also: I realized that the way I post-dated that "I need an agent" post and it is sticking at the top of my lj will most likely keep her from ever seeing another one of my entries in the forseeable future...she just goes and sees if there is something new at the top. I really don't know what to say about any of this. I might email her.
It's hard to not imagining her insane stress levels, up there never sleeping, working and caring for Nana around the clock, fuming and heartbroken about this Bob crap, and totally unable to vent because Laura and I are really about the only people she talks to.
So done with all of this. Done with thinking how Christmas is 2 days away and I can't kick someone out for CHristmas, done with realizing I don't have a stocking or any presents, still, for him, done with feeling guilty for everything all day long except for when I realize there's no reason to feel guilty, and then just feeling like I"m gonna scream. Seriously, this is insane.
What is with how he is mowing our grass and playing with our kids and getting his phone activated and making his lunch? What is with his light hearted jokes? Is he hoping he'll just blend in and we'll drop this whole job malarky? Is he in total denial? He doesn't even act upset about leaving, like, he told me today that Shawn replied to him about how he has to talk to his landlord and then he'll contact him again. What?
*shaking it all off*
I'm not completely rid of this stomach virus gradually making it's way around the house. Stomach trouble + feeling cold really makes me anxious and irritable re: my whole messed up abdomen could be back in the hospital bs. Involuntary nerves...
Sidenote:
My husband is SO. AMAZING. He cradled me, and stroked my face, and fanned his fingers across my back, and held me petting my hair, and so on, until I was not just dozing in and out but DEEPLY sleeping, last night. This after layering blankets on me and getting the heating pad for our bed. LIke I swam up to consciousness 3 times, barely, to feel all "MMMM" because it was still happening and drift off again. He is so much better than insomnia, and I cannot wait until he's off work and heading home (30 more minutes).
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| THIS ALL SUCKS |
[21 Dec 2009|04:29pm] |
Today is my brother's day. His limit. His deadline. Today is the day my brother is supposed to have a job by if he wants to live here.
He does not have a job.
He is not out applying at jobs.
I've warned him and talked with him and taken him to my friend the life coach and my brother in law has dragged him around to jobs and MADE him apply, several times. I've told him I'll give him bus fare, told him where walking distance places are, told him he can take Grant's bike ANYTIME. I've done a countdown-with-pep talk thing at 3 weeks, 2 weeks, 1 week and 3 days to go, reminding him of the deadline and our deal each time.
He has had a giant temper tantrum daily for the past 3 days. Like last night, we took him with us out to the everglades to have grilled-outdoors dinner under the stars, and he was playing with Isaac, and Isaac started to cry - which is SO TYPICAL WE BARELY NOTICE, Isaac was fine again within 2 minutes at most - but my brother went and sat in the van, hands folded over his chest, death metal iPod blaring in his earpieces, PISSED. I went to talk to him after a couple of minutes - "What's going on? Why are you mad?" I honestly didn't even know, but he spit out "It's not even worth it to try to play with him!" And then cracked his knuckles and scowled and refused food until we all left.
I DON'T NEED THIS IN MY LIFE.
But I love him. ANd he's outside playing football with the kids right now. And he helped so much with getting the house clean for the blessingway. And he's even said he'll kill himself if we kick him out?
Because that's totally playing fair.
I know that's manipulative bs, and I also know he might really do it,and I don't want to deal with that. But I can't just let him live here forever out of fear of him killing himself, I mean, COME ON. But...what if he does? I can say, "I'm not responsible for that", but I don't really FEEL that way.
I've actually been trying to tell him for the past two days that I have an ultimatum for him, and if he will tell me he's going to commit to radical changes, he can stay. Radical changes means walking his ass out the door every day and staying out, for hours, applying for jobs. By foot or bus, we'll provide fare. EVERY DAY, at least 2 hours. And, continuing to meet with Michelle weekly, as well as doing the followup "assignments" he's ignored from their last meeting, and NOT glower-glaring at us and just halting conversations and activities when he's pissed about nothing. I told him I understand if he needs a few minutes, OR if he wants to tell us how pissed he is and be mad - but hanging around trying to ruin everyone else's time is not ok, and neither is ignoring people who are knocking on your door or standing there talking to you.
BUT HE WON'T EVEN AGREE TO THIS. Grant gave him until tonight. He changes the subject every time we bring it up.
So tired of all this. I feel so depressed and FRUSTRATED today. I'm taking the kids over to Laura's to play in her lake-beaches sand. Tomorrow Aaron has a playdate with his friend Adam and the next day we're going to Kristin's to make marshmallows.
One thing that kills me is I don't even logistically know what kicking him out means. Does he just walk out the door and sleep outside? That's ridiculous. Isn't it? What if he refuses to go? Am I supposed to call the cops or something? That's ridiculous, too. We have a friend of the family in Jacksonville, who's offered to take him in before, and I contacted him via facebook about this. But he's in Jacksonville. I can't afford a bus ticket for Bob, which would still leave all of his stuff here. He's not gonna walk to Jacksonville. This all sucks, I'm so pissed at him for putting himself in this position, why can't he just freaking CALL PLACES AND FOLLOW UP, what is so damned beneath him about dollar stores or fast food, argh.
Then I try to talk to him - gently, patiently - about his temper, and he shrugs and says "Jud". Like that explains it all. Yeah, Jud's not even allowed to visit this house, bud, he sure as hell is not gonna be living here. He's just GIVING UP and I want to kick his ass for it.
I feel like I'm dealing with Jud again, sometimes, or Bobby circa 2001. I feel like he's setting me back years and turning me into a version of myself I don't like, that nags and has no boundaries. I don't want to give up on him and ALSO. Also?
I don't know if she's doing it on purpose or what, but I strongly get the feeling that my mother will never forgive me for kicking him out, WOULD blame me if he killed himself, and that every time I speak with her she is implying I'm not doing enough. Which is all bunk, I know, because I've done tons for him over the years and she has not exactly been perfect, but. It hurts me a LOT. SHe wants to act like it's a big awesome deal for him to even come out of his room to talk with us and is totally exasperated by me ever ranting about him. It makes me nauseus.
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