Okay, I'm very sorry I haven't written much here lately. We still don't have internet at the house, so it's kind of difficult for me to get around to writing these days.
I've applied for unemployment, so hopefully that will come through in the next couple of weeks. Hell, hopefully I'll get a job. But I try not to dream too big.
If I'm going to be totally honest, I have to tell you that life has been hell this past couple of weeks. Really, life has been hell for this last couple of years. But hey, tomato, tomahto.
I can't go into too much, but I fear that we won't be seeing Kane and Jude for a while. It's really sad, because regardless of how much I miss them, miss seeing them and hearing how their lives are going, Jason misses the hell out of them, and I can't even tell you how frequently Reed asks where they are, when they're coming back, when he'll see them again. Right now we haven't seen them in about a month, and they haven't stayed at our house in about six weeks. I've written here on more than one occasion how much Reed loves them, how I worry, how much I love them.
I guess I should say again how much I really, really love them, have always loved them, have always tried my best to be there for them, take care of them, and provide them with a safe and happy place to call home.
This coming Monday is the third birthday of this blog. HAPPY FREAKING BIRTHDAY, VELVETEEN INDIAN. Maybe one day I'll be real.
Showing posts with label kane. Show all posts
Showing posts with label kane. Show all posts
Tuesday, September 01, 2009
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Karaoke and appendectomies.
Holy cow, this past weekend was pretty nutty. Kane had an emergency appendectomy, I karaoked Shania Twain's Any Man of Mine, and Lindsey got hit on by a 23 year old. I AM SO TIRED.
Lindsey and I went out Saturday night and bar-hopped a bit and ended up at an all-night karaoke joint we have been known to frequent in the past. Of course we stayed out too late and arrived home to Kane power-puking in the bathroom with the door open. Jason got up and was like, "Oh, yeah, he's been puking."
The next morning as I was just about to expire from the hangover, Jason informed me that he was taking Kane to the emergency room because he was having some cramps that could indicate appendicitis. He called a couple of hours later and said it wasn't his appendix, it was just a stomach virus, and they were giving him nausea medicine and fluids. He called a couple of hours after that and said Kane was still cramping so they were taking blood and running tests and giving him an iv because he was so dehydrated. They eventually did an x-ray and discovered that Kane's appendix isn't situated in the normal place and woops! it WAS his appendix, he DID in fact have appendicitis and oh yeah, they needed to remove his appendix.
I would also like to point out, because it is just so predictable, that while Kane and Jason and Jude arrived at the hospital around 10:00 am, and Kane was finally wheeled into surgery around 5:30 pm, Kane's wonder-mom didn't show up at the hospital until 6 pm. The only reason I want to point this out is that it is just indicative of the kind of shit she pulls that makes me go WHAT THE FUCK, PEOPLE?
But all is well; Kane was in and out of surgery very quickly and everything went fine and he's recovering. I would also like to say that after the surgery, still high on the anesthesia, Kane was quietly resting in his bed and then would randomly spout lines from the Office ("What kind of bear is best?"). So funny.
It was just nutty, a nutty day and a nutty chain of events, and I'm glad everything is okay.
Lindsey and I went out Saturday night and bar-hopped a bit and ended up at an all-night karaoke joint we have been known to frequent in the past. Of course we stayed out too late and arrived home to Kane power-puking in the bathroom with the door open. Jason got up and was like, "Oh, yeah, he's been puking."
The next morning as I was just about to expire from the hangover, Jason informed me that he was taking Kane to the emergency room because he was having some cramps that could indicate appendicitis. He called a couple of hours later and said it wasn't his appendix, it was just a stomach virus, and they were giving him nausea medicine and fluids. He called a couple of hours after that and said Kane was still cramping so they were taking blood and running tests and giving him an iv because he was so dehydrated. They eventually did an x-ray and discovered that Kane's appendix isn't situated in the normal place and woops! it WAS his appendix, he DID in fact have appendicitis and oh yeah, they needed to remove his appendix.
I would also like to point out, because it is just so predictable, that while Kane and Jason and Jude arrived at the hospital around 10:00 am, and Kane was finally wheeled into surgery around 5:30 pm, Kane's wonder-mom didn't show up at the hospital until 6 pm. The only reason I want to point this out is that it is just indicative of the kind of shit she pulls that makes me go WHAT THE FUCK, PEOPLE?
But all is well; Kane was in and out of surgery very quickly and everything went fine and he's recovering. I would also like to say that after the surgery, still high on the anesthesia, Kane was quietly resting in his bed and then would randomly spout lines from the Office ("What kind of bear is best?"). So funny.
It was just nutty, a nutty day and a nutty chain of events, and I'm glad everything is okay.
Tuesday, June 09, 2009
Kane,
Today you turn 13.
This is probably the last time we'll ever speak since I'm moving into the bomb shelter until you turn 21, 'cause, dude, I don't want any part of what all is coming up.
I'm kidding. I am actually very excited about what is coming up, especially since you are suddenly very interested in watching The Office and that is so much more tolerable and interesting to me than Pokemon, or Yu Gi Oh, or Total Drama Island.
When I first met you, you were six years old, and in first grade. Your dad brought you into the store where we worked together, and he introduced us, and Jude hid behind his legs while you said, "Hello there, Buffy."
In the months following our meeting there were screaming contests (literally; this isn't a metaphor for a fight), swimming, sidewalk chalk drawings, Super Mario Brothers all-nighters, and tag games. We did a whole lot of stuff back in those days, mainly because your father and I didn't live together yet so we had to find cool stuff to do outside of the house.
We've had some tough times together as well. You had a lot of trouble understanding your mother's illness, how it kept her away from you so much when you were so young, and I had the simultaneous joy and guilt of being able to help you deal with that. I am very glad that I got to know you, got to sit up with you at night and help you through some rough nights, but I have to tell you it is very difficult to come up with a good answer to some of your questions, "why won't mom come home" or "why can't I go to my mom's house" or "can't she please just stay home with us tonight". All I ever knew to tell you was that she loves you, and she's working on it. I hope that was enough.
You are one of the smartest, brightest, most resilient kids I've ever known, and I can't even imagine what all lies ahead of you. You sure do like to talk so I might suggest a career in politics or lawyering. You clearly also combine with that talk-love a pinpoint accuracy in recalling detail, I can't even tell you how many episodes of Family Guy or The Simpsons that you have described to me, and I could tell that you didn't forget a thing because it would take the same amount of time for you to describe it to me as it would to actually sit down in front of the tv and watch the bloody show. HOLY GOD, MAN, you need to apply your talent for seven-hour oration to something besides shows I don't even like, I beg of you.
Seriously, never stop expecting a lot from yourself, because you have the charisma and smarts to do a lot of interesting things with your life, and that kind of stuff almost never just falls into your lap: you have to work for a happy life, to enjoy your pursuits and have a happy family. Just like Gordy Ramey used to tell my mama: Remember who you are. Know that this life just gets harder and harder, all the time, and there will be moments when you think you will break, when you think it will never get easier. And I'm not here to tell you that it gets easier, because sometimes it doesn't. But it changes. Your feelings, the situations you're in, your desires, your goals, it all changes all the time, and no matter how hard it gets you can always come to your dad or me to talk about it, because we will always love you just as much, and we will always be your parents no matter how scary or unpredictable life gets.
Listen, I ain't your mama, have never been your mama and will never be your mama. But I do love you and want good things for you. I will always be there to talk or help in any way that I can. This fall you start eighth grade, and I am here to tell you that this stage of life is hard, hard for everyone, and the best thing I know to say about it is don't let them see you hurting, save the hurting for when you get home, and always be open to new friendships.
And no drinking or drugs until you're older. And no sex. Or girlfriends. Maybe you should just come straight home from school. And don't be talking to hussies on the phone, either. No HBO or Cinemax. And punch a motherfucker in the face if he fucks with you. But don't be a bully. Oh for God's sakes, I have to go; the bomb shelter is calling my name.
Today you turn 13.
This is probably the last time we'll ever speak since I'm moving into the bomb shelter until you turn 21, 'cause, dude, I don't want any part of what all is coming up.
I'm kidding. I am actually very excited about what is coming up, especially since you are suddenly very interested in watching The Office and that is so much more tolerable and interesting to me than Pokemon, or Yu Gi Oh, or Total Drama Island.
When I first met you, you were six years old, and in first grade. Your dad brought you into the store where we worked together, and he introduced us, and Jude hid behind his legs while you said, "Hello there, Buffy."
In the months following our meeting there were screaming contests (literally; this isn't a metaphor for a fight), swimming, sidewalk chalk drawings, Super Mario Brothers all-nighters, and tag games. We did a whole lot of stuff back in those days, mainly because your father and I didn't live together yet so we had to find cool stuff to do outside of the house.
We've had some tough times together as well. You had a lot of trouble understanding your mother's illness, how it kept her away from you so much when you were so young, and I had the simultaneous joy and guilt of being able to help you deal with that. I am very glad that I got to know you, got to sit up with you at night and help you through some rough nights, but I have to tell you it is very difficult to come up with a good answer to some of your questions, "why won't mom come home" or "why can't I go to my mom's house" or "can't she please just stay home with us tonight". All I ever knew to tell you was that she loves you, and she's working on it. I hope that was enough.
You are one of the smartest, brightest, most resilient kids I've ever known, and I can't even imagine what all lies ahead of you. You sure do like to talk so I might suggest a career in politics or lawyering. You clearly also combine with that talk-love a pinpoint accuracy in recalling detail, I can't even tell you how many episodes of Family Guy or The Simpsons that you have described to me, and I could tell that you didn't forget a thing because it would take the same amount of time for you to describe it to me as it would to actually sit down in front of the tv and watch the bloody show. HOLY GOD, MAN, you need to apply your talent for seven-hour oration to something besides shows I don't even like, I beg of you.
Seriously, never stop expecting a lot from yourself, because you have the charisma and smarts to do a lot of interesting things with your life, and that kind of stuff almost never just falls into your lap: you have to work for a happy life, to enjoy your pursuits and have a happy family. Just like Gordy Ramey used to tell my mama: Remember who you are. Know that this life just gets harder and harder, all the time, and there will be moments when you think you will break, when you think it will never get easier. And I'm not here to tell you that it gets easier, because sometimes it doesn't. But it changes. Your feelings, the situations you're in, your desires, your goals, it all changes all the time, and no matter how hard it gets you can always come to your dad or me to talk about it, because we will always love you just as much, and we will always be your parents no matter how scary or unpredictable life gets.
Listen, I ain't your mama, have never been your mama and will never be your mama. But I do love you and want good things for you. I will always be there to talk or help in any way that I can. This fall you start eighth grade, and I am here to tell you that this stage of life is hard, hard for everyone, and the best thing I know to say about it is don't let them see you hurting, save the hurting for when you get home, and always be open to new friendships.
And no drinking or drugs until you're older. And no sex. Or girlfriends. Maybe you should just come straight home from school. And don't be talking to hussies on the phone, either. No HBO or Cinemax. And punch a motherfucker in the face if he fucks with you. But don't be a bully. Oh for God's sakes, I have to go; the bomb shelter is calling my name.
Tuesday, December 02, 2008
And here is where I empty the contents of my brain onto the page:
I have been reflecting lately on my life, especially the past year or so, on mistakes and opportunities and luck and misfortune. These past eighteen or twenty months have been so hard, so excrutiating. So many bad things have happened over the past little while, both things that are my fault and things that are beyond my control. I am absolutely exhausted, tired of all of this, tired of life, and the only thing that keeps me going is the feeling like maybe we are over the proverbial hump, maybe things are about to get better.
I worry about Kane and Jude quite a bit, about their well-being, their grades, their ability to grow into functioning human beings. I went to drop off the child support check yesterday, and their step-dad kept narrowing his eyes at me and then looking at the check, narrowing his eyes and then looking at the check. Then light dawned on marble head and he laughed and said, "I didn't recognize you. Okay."
Their step-dad, who has been around for about five years and has been married to Kane and Jude's mom for a year-and-a-half and who has seen and spoken to me countless times, DIDN'T RECOGNIZE ME. I suppose maybe he was off his meds yesterday.
Kane and Jude are telling us that they might move to Montevallo, which is great because it's even further away, and we've already been assigned the task of doing all the driving, all the picking up and dropping off, and I am not feeling happy about it. Besides the driving, Kane and Jude are both doing well in school, making friends and good grades and enjoying themselves, and I'm wondering why they feel the need to jerk them up and send them yet another school. Those people move roughly once a year, and I'm not sure that that's healthy for the kids. I realize that plenty of people move around and the kids will survive, but I'm thinking if they're not moving for a job or the military or to be closer to their families, is it really necessary?
Jason and I have just celebrated our fifth anniversary, and I'm proud and grateful that we've made it. Marriage is hard when times are good; when times are tough it can be really very difficult to remember to work as a team, to think like a team. I'm sorry that I haven't always been a team player, Jason; I'm working on it. Happy anniversary. Thank you for being on my team.
Reed's godmother just got engaged to one of the sweetest boys I've ever known. The only advice that I would presume to offer you is to pray to God for patience and perseverence, both of you, because there are moments when those are the only things that will keep you from smacking each other in the head with a hammer. Also, hide the hammer from each other. That helps, too.
My job has really turned things around for me in at least a few ways. I mean, I suddenly find myself a salaried employee with a stable company that builds software. Here's to you, universe: you really know how to confuse the shit out of me. I was voted most tech-savvy on Facebook; I put that on my resume, and I'm sure that's why I got this job.
I worry about Kane and Jude quite a bit, about their well-being, their grades, their ability to grow into functioning human beings. I went to drop off the child support check yesterday, and their step-dad kept narrowing his eyes at me and then looking at the check, narrowing his eyes and then looking at the check. Then light dawned on marble head and he laughed and said, "I didn't recognize you. Okay."
Their step-dad, who has been around for about five years and has been married to Kane and Jude's mom for a year-and-a-half and who has seen and spoken to me countless times, DIDN'T RECOGNIZE ME. I suppose maybe he was off his meds yesterday.
Kane and Jude are telling us that they might move to Montevallo, which is great because it's even further away, and we've already been assigned the task of doing all the driving, all the picking up and dropping off, and I am not feeling happy about it. Besides the driving, Kane and Jude are both doing well in school, making friends and good grades and enjoying themselves, and I'm wondering why they feel the need to jerk them up and send them yet another school. Those people move roughly once a year, and I'm not sure that that's healthy for the kids. I realize that plenty of people move around and the kids will survive, but I'm thinking if they're not moving for a job or the military or to be closer to their families, is it really necessary?
Jason and I have just celebrated our fifth anniversary, and I'm proud and grateful that we've made it. Marriage is hard when times are good; when times are tough it can be really very difficult to remember to work as a team, to think like a team. I'm sorry that I haven't always been a team player, Jason; I'm working on it. Happy anniversary. Thank you for being on my team.
Reed's godmother just got engaged to one of the sweetest boys I've ever known. The only advice that I would presume to offer you is to pray to God for patience and perseverence, both of you, because there are moments when those are the only things that will keep you from smacking each other in the head with a hammer. Also, hide the hammer from each other. That helps, too.
My job has really turned things around for me in at least a few ways. I mean, I suddenly find myself a salaried employee with a stable company that builds software. Here's to you, universe: you really know how to confuse the shit out of me. I was voted most tech-savvy on Facebook; I put that on my resume, and I'm sure that's why I got this job.
Wednesday, October 01, 2008
I am consumed again with worry about the same thing I was worried about for most of the spring and summer: Kane and Jude.
A couple of experiences that were relayed to Jason by a family member have him panicking about sending them back to their mom's house; he's worried that he made the wrong decision, that Kane and Jude will be harmed somehow by that decision.
I feel sad that Jason is so worried, because I know exactly how he feels: I have often wondered and feared if it was a bad idea to send them back with their mom. She and her husband have a lot of problems, and I am only referring to the obvious, clear problems that we can see that they have. There is no telling what all is going on under the surface that we don't even have a clue about.
Now our lawyer is getting messages from their lawyer asking when we are going to "make arrangements" to pay child support. It isn't clear if he is referring to current child support or backed child support. If it's current, we've been paying it, and either their lawyer doesn't know what he's doing or they are lying to him and telling him we haven't been paying. If it's backed child support, I can't believe anyone is still discussing it. While I am begging for a job, any job, and praying for unemployment, they are driving to Texas to buy SUPER-FANCY ULTRA-LIGHTWEIGHT JEEP DOORS, for Pete's sakes. DRIVING TO TEXAS IN A GAS-GUZZLING JEEP for new doors, for fuck's sakes. I can't get over it, so just don't expect it.
Anyway, this life just keeps getting scarier and more bizarre every day, and I don't see any signs of it returning to normalcy. Lindsey and I often joke that this, this right here, this is just our lives now, and we should just get used to it.
I just don't know. I am still seeking employment to absolutely no end whatsoever, while the kids' mom and step-dad don't have to work, will never have to work, on account of they're too crazy to. Yet they feel like this makes them better candidates to raise the kids because they can "devote 24 hours a day to the children".
It's all a mess, and it's making me feel ill. Maybe I need to seek lessons on making the government think I'm too crazy to work. At least I know where to look for them.
A couple of experiences that were relayed to Jason by a family member have him panicking about sending them back to their mom's house; he's worried that he made the wrong decision, that Kane and Jude will be harmed somehow by that decision.
I feel sad that Jason is so worried, because I know exactly how he feels: I have often wondered and feared if it was a bad idea to send them back with their mom. She and her husband have a lot of problems, and I am only referring to the obvious, clear problems that we can see that they have. There is no telling what all is going on under the surface that we don't even have a clue about.
Now our lawyer is getting messages from their lawyer asking when we are going to "make arrangements" to pay child support. It isn't clear if he is referring to current child support or backed child support. If it's current, we've been paying it, and either their lawyer doesn't know what he's doing or they are lying to him and telling him we haven't been paying. If it's backed child support, I can't believe anyone is still discussing it. While I am begging for a job, any job, and praying for unemployment, they are driving to Texas to buy SUPER-FANCY ULTRA-LIGHTWEIGHT JEEP DOORS, for Pete's sakes. DRIVING TO TEXAS IN A GAS-GUZZLING JEEP for new doors, for fuck's sakes. I can't get over it, so just don't expect it.
Anyway, this life just keeps getting scarier and more bizarre every day, and I don't see any signs of it returning to normalcy. Lindsey and I often joke that this, this right here, this is just our lives now, and we should just get used to it.
I just don't know. I am still seeking employment to absolutely no end whatsoever, while the kids' mom and step-dad don't have to work, will never have to work, on account of they're too crazy to. Yet they feel like this makes them better candidates to raise the kids because they can "devote 24 hours a day to the children".
It's all a mess, and it's making me feel ill. Maybe I need to seek lessons on making the government think I'm too crazy to work. At least I know where to look for them.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Mining for gold.
Poor Reedy. I'm afraid that he might have walking pnemonia, but I'm not sure. I'm thinking I'll pick him up from school early today and let the doctor check him out.
We had a fun trip to the emergency room with him last Friday night: he grabbed my flat iron when it was blazing hot. He REALLY freaked out for about an hour; about the time we got up to the burn unit at Children's Hospital he calmed down. He was such a grown-up, showing his hand to the doctors and nurses. They were all wowed by how calm, sweet, and cute he is. Now all that's left is a couple of watery blisters, and they're almost gone.
We took Reed with us to Kane's open house at his new school not long ago. I never ceases to amaze me how impressive he will suddenly be in situations like that. At home we're still having writhing fits and screaming fits and crying fits. Then he goes out into public and sits still and smiles and acts right. The best part was during one of the teacher's talk about her class and her expectations, Reed suddenly wanted to get up, go stand directly in front of Kane's mom and stare at her while smiling intensely and picking his nose. He had that finger about 3/4 of the way up his nostril, grinning like a pig in shit and going to town. It made me happy.
One must remember to take pleasure in the little things, musn't one?
We had a fun trip to the emergency room with him last Friday night: he grabbed my flat iron when it was blazing hot. He REALLY freaked out for about an hour; about the time we got up to the burn unit at Children's Hospital he calmed down. He was such a grown-up, showing his hand to the doctors and nurses. They were all wowed by how calm, sweet, and cute he is. Now all that's left is a couple of watery blisters, and they're almost gone.
We took Reed with us to Kane's open house at his new school not long ago. I never ceases to amaze me how impressive he will suddenly be in situations like that. At home we're still having writhing fits and screaming fits and crying fits. Then he goes out into public and sits still and smiles and acts right. The best part was during one of the teacher's talk about her class and her expectations, Reed suddenly wanted to get up, go stand directly in front of Kane's mom and stare at her while smiling intensely and picking his nose. He had that finger about 3/4 of the way up his nostril, grinning like a pig in shit and going to town. It made me happy.
One must remember to take pleasure in the little things, musn't one?
Monday, September 15, 2008
I can't imagine.
Oh, Lordy. Communicating with the folks at the unemployment office is like being from Alabama and trying to communicate with that little guy who calls me from India about my Mastercard bill: difficult, to avoid using any expletives. So I'm still waiting to find out if I'm going to get any money for not having a job. Shouldn't one get paid for not working? I should think so. At least then I can get our cable cut back on, therefore providing myself with something to do with all this free time.
As it is I am washing, washing, washing clothes and sheets and socks and towels and the cat and my armpits and the dishes and my car and the bills and anything else that repulses me.
Kane and Jude stayed with us this weekend and they are just as smart-assed as usual. So at least their mom and step-dad haven't managed to FUCK that up yet.
In other news, my kid is an even bigger smart-ass than his brothers. It's like God said, "Okay, let's, just for fun, take all the smart-ass Kane and Jude got, and all the smart-ass Jason and Buffy got, and smush it together, give it blonde hair and a fucking cute smile and see what happens."
What happens is I almost die, every day, either from the cute overload that occurs in my house every single day or from the gouging of my eyes with screwdrivers after Reed gleefully shouts "WHAT THE HELL? WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?"
And, really, where the FUCK is he getting all this awful language?
As it is I am washing, washing, washing clothes and sheets and socks and towels and the cat and my armpits and the dishes and my car and the bills and anything else that repulses me.
Kane and Jude stayed with us this weekend and they are just as smart-assed as usual. So at least their mom and step-dad haven't managed to FUCK that up yet.
In other news, my kid is an even bigger smart-ass than his brothers. It's like God said, "Okay, let's, just for fun, take all the smart-ass Kane and Jude got, and all the smart-ass Jason and Buffy got, and smush it together, give it blonde hair and a fucking cute smile and see what happens."
What happens is I almost die, every day, either from the cute overload that occurs in my house every single day or from the gouging of my eyes with screwdrivers after Reed gleefully shouts "WHAT THE HELL? WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?"
And, really, where the FUCK is he getting all this awful language?
Friday, September 05, 2008
Spring cleaning, delayed.
I gave myself the task of totally cleaning out Kane and Jude's room yesterday. It was my "I don't have a job, I don't have shit to do, what of it?" assigment.
They cleaned it before they left last time, and they "made" their beds which really just means they piled all the sheets and covers on top of the beds. The picture above is what it looked like after I changed the sheets, MADE the beds, and swept everything out from underneath them. I can't express to you what a mess it was- popsicle wrappers, cracker wrappers, pretzels, q-tips, dirty socks, clean shirts. And in their drawers and closets every kind of clothing was shoved into every kind of place. I am a square: I think that socks and underwear belong with other socks and underwear, jeans hang in the closet, marbles and Yu Gi Oh cards don't go with your t-shirts. Square.
I spent four hours yesterday cleaning and organizing their room. I threw away five full garbage bags full of shit, and donated one garbage bag full of clothes to Goodwill.
Afterwards I felt cleansed.
They still have toys, but they are where they belong. They have a much larger collection of books than I thought. They each have about 500 pairs of socks and underwear. There are actual empty shelves. I got rid of so much garbage that there are shelves with nothing on them.
I spent a long time just hanging out in their room yesterday, because it is now the cleanest room in the house. I think I might just move in to their room.
I have overhauled their room and Reed's room. Next is ours.
They cleaned it before they left last time, and they "made" their beds which really just means they piled all the sheets and covers on top of the beds. The picture above is what it looked like after I changed the sheets, MADE the beds, and swept everything out from underneath them. I can't express to you what a mess it was- popsicle wrappers, cracker wrappers, pretzels, q-tips, dirty socks, clean shirts. And in their drawers and closets every kind of clothing was shoved into every kind of place. I am a square: I think that socks and underwear belong with other socks and underwear, jeans hang in the closet, marbles and Yu Gi Oh cards don't go with your t-shirts. Square.
I spent four hours yesterday cleaning and organizing their room. I threw away five full garbage bags full of shit, and donated one garbage bag full of clothes to Goodwill.
Afterwards I felt cleansed.
They still have toys, but they are where they belong. They have a much larger collection of books than I thought. They each have about 500 pairs of socks and underwear. There are actual empty shelves. I got rid of so much garbage that there are shelves with nothing on them.
I spent a long time just hanging out in their room yesterday, because it is now the cleanest room in the house. I think I might just move in to their room.
I have overhauled their room and Reed's room. Next is ours.
Monday, August 18, 2008
Pot liquor.
Painting my toenails, doing laundry, wiping Reed's diarrhea-rear: these are the days of our lives.
Reed and I have some tiny virus that includes fever, tummy grossness, and general grumpiness, but I think it might be gone by tomorrow.
Our finances have finally reached a really awful, emergency point in which we can't afford to buy... well, anything.
Kane and Jude were here for the weekend and they both seem to be enjoying their new school. I just sincerely hope this has all been worth it, their moving back to their mom's house. I think it's probably best for them to be stable somewhere, to not change schools any more, so I hope everyone can just calm down and live life for a while.
Their mom and step-dad still inspire me to pluck the eyeballs out of my head: they send rude text messages, refuse to talk to us or make eye-contact (should they actually meet us face to face)- pretty much the usual. C'est la vie.
Jude started a Flickr if you're ever interested in the photographic talent of an intense nine-year-old.
Finally, I've been making some neat things for my Etsy lately. This one's called Mary Ramey, after my grandmother:
Reed and I have some tiny virus that includes fever, tummy grossness, and general grumpiness, but I think it might be gone by tomorrow.
Our finances have finally reached a really awful, emergency point in which we can't afford to buy... well, anything.
Kane and Jude were here for the weekend and they both seem to be enjoying their new school. I just sincerely hope this has all been worth it, their moving back to their mom's house. I think it's probably best for them to be stable somewhere, to not change schools any more, so I hope everyone can just calm down and live life for a while.
Their mom and step-dad still inspire me to pluck the eyeballs out of my head: they send rude text messages, refuse to talk to us or make eye-contact (should they actually meet us face to face)- pretty much the usual. C'est la vie.
Jude started a Flickr if you're ever interested in the photographic talent of an intense nine-year-old.
Finally, I've been making some neat things for my Etsy lately. This one's called Mary Ramey, after my grandmother:
Friday, August 15, 2008
"Don't think the sun's comin' out today; it's staying in. It's gonna find a better way."
I think we really have to be out of our house in the next couple of weeks. This whole time I've been telling myself it's not that big of a deal, at least we're all healthy (if we don't count my being an absolute crazy person), at least we're surviving, etc.
I'm suddenly realizing how sad it is. We've lived here for three years now. It's the first house Reed ever lived in, the house we brought him home to. It's the house that Kane and Jude moved into with us. It's the first house that Jason and I moved into together. It's the first yard we've ever shared, the first yard that we watched Reed play in, the first porch we've ever had to spend time with our friends on.
In this house I've watched Reed grow from a teeny baby to a little boy. It is at once terrifying and beautiful and gut-wrenching and awe-inspiring, watching this person grow and learn and change, remembering that I grew him inside me and he was once a tadpole and now he runs and plays and laughs. In this house he learned to make jokes and share with his brothers (sometimes) and pick himself up after he falls.
In this house I have watched Kane grow into an adolescent, turn from a kid who watches cartoons into a near-teenager who... watches cartoons- just different cartoons. He's growing into a young man who likes to help me around the house and likes to watch his youngest brother and likes to help him learn and grow.
In this house I have watched Jude's continued evolution into a middle child, a kid who is too young to be a grown-up and too big to be a baby. He continues to amaze me with his ability to be a complete badass, to be like hanging out with one of my friends (Brock, I'm looking at you- argumentative, difficult, challenging, entirely too smart, physically dangerous).
In this house I've watched my marriage grow into something that I know with every particle of my being that I cannot live without. I've been reminded over and over again how much I need Jason, want him, respect him. I've felt myself continue to grow into a person who will never be at the center of her own universe again, to enjoy that separation from myself, to enjoy the people who have taken the place in the center. I've hoped and strived to fill the roles that I've made for myself here with these four other people. I've hoped and strived to be able to continue playing some part in the lives of the people who don't live here with me, the people who I count on to be there when I'm scared or lost, my extended family, my very best friends who I love so much.
And now we have to move and I'm just a little heart-broken about it. We'll make new memories one day in a new place and at least we have each other and thank goodness my mom is here for us and all that, but it's still hitting me kind of hard. I'm sure I'll get over it. It just takes a few hours to get myself back out of the center again.
I'm suddenly realizing how sad it is. We've lived here for three years now. It's the first house Reed ever lived in, the house we brought him home to. It's the house that Kane and Jude moved into with us. It's the first house that Jason and I moved into together. It's the first yard we've ever shared, the first yard that we watched Reed play in, the first porch we've ever had to spend time with our friends on.
In this house I've watched Reed grow from a teeny baby to a little boy. It is at once terrifying and beautiful and gut-wrenching and awe-inspiring, watching this person grow and learn and change, remembering that I grew him inside me and he was once a tadpole and now he runs and plays and laughs. In this house he learned to make jokes and share with his brothers (sometimes) and pick himself up after he falls.
In this house I have watched Kane grow into an adolescent, turn from a kid who watches cartoons into a near-teenager who... watches cartoons- just different cartoons. He's growing into a young man who likes to help me around the house and likes to watch his youngest brother and likes to help him learn and grow.
In this house I have watched Jude's continued evolution into a middle child, a kid who is too young to be a grown-up and too big to be a baby. He continues to amaze me with his ability to be a complete badass, to be like hanging out with one of my friends (Brock, I'm looking at you- argumentative, difficult, challenging, entirely too smart, physically dangerous).
In this house I've watched my marriage grow into something that I know with every particle of my being that I cannot live without. I've been reminded over and over again how much I need Jason, want him, respect him. I've felt myself continue to grow into a person who will never be at the center of her own universe again, to enjoy that separation from myself, to enjoy the people who have taken the place in the center. I've hoped and strived to fill the roles that I've made for myself here with these four other people. I've hoped and strived to be able to continue playing some part in the lives of the people who don't live here with me, the people who I count on to be there when I'm scared or lost, my extended family, my very best friends who I love so much.
And now we have to move and I'm just a little heart-broken about it. We'll make new memories one day in a new place and at least we have each other and thank goodness my mom is here for us and all that, but it's still hitting me kind of hard. I'm sure I'll get over it. It just takes a few hours to get myself back out of the center again.
Tuesday, August 05, 2008
I'll have to remind Jason to shave...
I believe old Mark admitted defeat- he hasn't been back in a few days and things have quieted down. The human tendency towards lunacy never ceases to amaze me.
Kane and Jude's mom sheepishly accepting her first child support payment last Friday. Now we wait for the next time she decides to start threatening to sue for backed child support. Mark my words: it will happen again.
From what I understand they've been counting change over there; I do sympathize, as we've been in hard times of our own. Then again, we didn't move into an apartment we couldn't afford and buy a series of brand new cars including two sports cars and ending with a four-door Jeep that surely guzzles gas.
When the kids' step-dad called Jason at work a few weeks ago and ranted about everything under the sun, he included how much better of a provider he is for the kids, adding that Kane and Jude each have their own bedroom and their own cable tv at his house. I wonder how that's working out for him now? I'd like to add that Jason, God love 'im, immediately replied that he doesn't agree with them having televisions in their bedrooms. We limit the kids' tv-watching over here because we feel like it's better for their brains to, I don't know, play, and interact, ride bikes and ride skateboards and read- you know, all the old-fashioned, Amish-type stuff.
Anyhow, Reed still breaks my heart every day saying things like, "I miss Kane and Jude. Kane and Jude miss me. Can we go get them now?"
Lipstick has their August issue on the website now, but sadly they don't seem to include all the content from the magazine on the web. I DO have an article and some jewelry in the magazine; I can mail you a copy of you're out of Birmingham and want to take a look. Just drop me a line and let me know.
Life goes on, and I'm trying to keep up. I've been making loads of jewelry; I hope to have twenty or thirty new pieces up in the next few days. Jason and I are photographing a wedding this Friday, as well as making the groom's cake and being a bridesmaid. You can figure out which of us is doing what. Jason does look good in a dress.
Kane and Jude's mom sheepishly accepting her first child support payment last Friday. Now we wait for the next time she decides to start threatening to sue for backed child support. Mark my words: it will happen again.
From what I understand they've been counting change over there; I do sympathize, as we've been in hard times of our own. Then again, we didn't move into an apartment we couldn't afford and buy a series of brand new cars including two sports cars and ending with a four-door Jeep that surely guzzles gas.
When the kids' step-dad called Jason at work a few weeks ago and ranted about everything under the sun, he included how much better of a provider he is for the kids, adding that Kane and Jude each have their own bedroom and their own cable tv at his house. I wonder how that's working out for him now? I'd like to add that Jason, God love 'im, immediately replied that he doesn't agree with them having televisions in their bedrooms. We limit the kids' tv-watching over here because we feel like it's better for their brains to, I don't know, play, and interact, ride bikes and ride skateboards and read- you know, all the old-fashioned, Amish-type stuff.
Anyhow, Reed still breaks my heart every day saying things like, "I miss Kane and Jude. Kane and Jude miss me. Can we go get them now?"
Lipstick has their August issue on the website now, but sadly they don't seem to include all the content from the magazine on the web. I DO have an article and some jewelry in the magazine; I can mail you a copy of you're out of Birmingham and want to take a look. Just drop me a line and let me know.
Life goes on, and I'm trying to keep up. I've been making loads of jewelry; I hope to have twenty or thirty new pieces up in the next few days. Jason and I are photographing a wedding this Friday, as well as making the groom's cake and being a bridesmaid. You can figure out which of us is doing what. Jason does look good in a dress.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Making your way in the world today takes everything you got.
This birthday was about half great and half shitty, with great being against all odds. My attitude and emotional status have been all over the place lately, from grief, shame, humiliation, and regret to optimism, happiness, and hope to rage and spitefulness.
We got our letter of foreclosure Saturday morning. I worried about it all day, and then went out for birthday dinner with several friends, and then headed back to Kristi and Chris' new place to drink birthday beer. It was nice to spend time with everybody; most of my favorite people were there.
I think living at my mom's house isn't the end of the world. It is one of those things that will work eventually, but will start out kind of stressful and uncomfortable.
I've been talking with the mortgage company today, and I think we have some options, some possibility of avoiding the foreclosure, which I am taking steps to move towards. I do feel like we can't possibly pay for the house, and whether the bank forecloses or we get out of the woods and then hand them the keys, we are going to have to get out. I wrote a long letter of hardship to send the mortgage company and realized we aren't irresponsible, we aren't bad people, this isn't all our faults. These past two years have been really, awfully hard; it's been one bad thing after another, including insurance disasters, plumbing disasters, employment disasters, custody and ex-wife disasters. The end result has been that the amount of money Jason and I bring in to the house has dwindled lower and lower, and the amount of money we need to be sending out has risen higher and higher. Unfortunately we just can't reconcile the two. Add to that the fact that Jason and I are both totally, absolutely stressed out 24 hours a day, and you got the recipe for a hot mess.
Things with Kane and Jude's mom is pretty much at a standstill. Jason occasionally gets text messages from her asking for money. I would like for her to know that as soon as she figures out how to squeeze blood from a turnip, she should give me a call. Or a text. Whatever.
We got our letter of foreclosure Saturday morning. I worried about it all day, and then went out for birthday dinner with several friends, and then headed back to Kristi and Chris' new place to drink birthday beer. It was nice to spend time with everybody; most of my favorite people were there.
I think living at my mom's house isn't the end of the world. It is one of those things that will work eventually, but will start out kind of stressful and uncomfortable.
I've been talking with the mortgage company today, and I think we have some options, some possibility of avoiding the foreclosure, which I am taking steps to move towards. I do feel like we can't possibly pay for the house, and whether the bank forecloses or we get out of the woods and then hand them the keys, we are going to have to get out. I wrote a long letter of hardship to send the mortgage company and realized we aren't irresponsible, we aren't bad people, this isn't all our faults. These past two years have been really, awfully hard; it's been one bad thing after another, including insurance disasters, plumbing disasters, employment disasters, custody and ex-wife disasters. The end result has been that the amount of money Jason and I bring in to the house has dwindled lower and lower, and the amount of money we need to be sending out has risen higher and higher. Unfortunately we just can't reconcile the two. Add to that the fact that Jason and I are both totally, absolutely stressed out 24 hours a day, and you got the recipe for a hot mess.
Things with Kane and Jude's mom is pretty much at a standstill. Jason occasionally gets text messages from her asking for money. I would like for her to know that as soon as she figures out how to squeeze blood from a turnip, she should give me a call. Or a text. Whatever.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Dear God, make me a bird, so that I can fly, far far away.
I would like to say that I pray all the time, every day, many times a day. Unfortunately lately I've had a hard time praying. I still believe, I just have been so tired and had so much running through my head that I just haven't prayed, have been lazy, confused, preoccupied.
However melodramatic, I've decided to write a prayer here just to get it out, solidify it. Then whenever I feel too tired to pray I can come back and read this.
God, please watch over my family and friends.
Please watch my mama. Keep her safe, and make her life good. Give her happiness and relief from stress and let her have the ability to find some peace now that she's raised her children. Please give her the knowledge that she's done a good job.
Please help my sister to find some happiness in a life that is different from what she imagined as a child. Help her to relax and find some goodness in her life, and to let go of all her disappointments.
Please help my dad to be happy and safe and healthy. Help him to know that his kids are all good people, even if we're so far from perfect.
Please help Jason's mom to find some peace and to know that she did a good job with her children. Help her to know that their fierce love of life is a testament to what kind of parent she is.
Please help Jason's dad to love himself, to be proud of his own tough brand of fathering. Help him to remember that his children love him.
Please keep Jason's brothers and their families safe, and keep them on the path to a great life, a path I think they are already on.
Please give happiness and safety to the rest of our families, our uncles and aunts and cousins and step-parents and all of their families.
Please watch over Kristi and Chris. Help them to stay as happy as they are now, to remember this time when life gets harder or different, to have a life with babies and good jobs and friends who love them and take care of them.
Please help Andy to find some happiness, to let go of some of the awful things he's been through and feel a little lighter. Watch over Diane and give her the peace of mind that she deserves as a woman who has worked her entire life to make a good life for her children.
Please help Lindsey to know that her life will be full and perfect and that this time when things are swimming around her and everything is murky will one day be gone. Help her to remember that when her life seems mired in pain and uncertainty, her friends still love her and still want everything to get better, and that's a start.
Please help Stephanie to find some peace, some calm, some ability to see clearly in the dark. Please give James the ability to center down, to remember how delicate life is, to remember how much he loves life and smiling and his future wife.
Please watch over all my friends who I don't see as often- Deanna, Brock, Linnea, Johnny, Derek, Mason, Jasper, Amanda, John, probably others whose names aren't coming to me now- help them to be happy, keep them safe.
God, please watch over Kane and Jude and help them to understand that parents can't always agree. Help them to understand that having divorced parents, fighting parents, is not their fault and that everything will be okay. Help them to forgive us for being imperfect and not always knowing the right answer. Help them to remember that this life is not perfect and even when things are disappointing, we are always trying really, really hard.
Please keep my baby safe. Please, God, just be with Reed and don't let anything bad happen to him. I am having a hard time right now not thinking about all the bad things that can happen to a child, all the illness and accidents and tragedies. Please just let Reed have a long happy life that I can enjoy with him. Please don't let him be a crazy person like me. Please give him the ability to be a hard worker and a fierce lover of his friends and family and a person who can love his life with reckless abandon.
Please help Jason to remember why he fell in love with me, why I fell in love with him. Please let us know how to persevere. Please help us to find our roles with each other as a team, as a pair of people who want the same things, and people who want good things for each other. Please help him find everything he's looking for. Please keep him safe.
Please help me to be a better person. Jesus, please, just help me let go of some of this grief that is inexplicably lodged in my heart. Please don't let me waste this time, this time with Jason and Reed and Kane and Jude, being a sad person, a crazy person. Please help me to know the right thing to do in all these situations I find myself in, these moments when I feel lost, when I forget for a moment that I'm not a kid, when I think that I can't possibly be old enough to make the decisions that I'm faced with. Please help me hold on these last little remnants of my ability to have a good time, to smile and laugh, to get pleasure out of watching other people laugh. Help me remember that my children are fragile and I must always think about every action, every comment, every single thing that I do and how it will affect them. Please give me the strength and grace to combine the very best qualities of my favorite people, to be like my mother and Kristi and Lindsey and Jason and Stephanie and Deanna and to have the quick, witty sense of humor and irony that Kane and Jude and Reed have. Help me to remember why I am not perfect, why Jason isn't perfect, to remember that our flaws are beautiful and that without them, we would be someone else. Please give me some peace in the night, some time when I don't wonder if the doors are locked, some time when I don't wonder what that sound was, some moments when I'm not thinking about all the bad stuff that could be about to happen.
Oh God, please don't forget about Leonard Peltier. I cannot imagine how hard his life has been, still is, how much longing he must have to hold his grandchildren, to stroke their hair and tell them that he loves them.
Please help all of us to do better, to think more about this living, breathing organism that is the world we live in. Help us to remember that it is our responsibility to make sure that there still is a world for our children, that this fierce love and fear we have for them is the same fierce love and fear they will have for their own children, and that we have a hand in deciding how much they will have to worry about their families, their lives, their futures.
And God, as long as I'm making requests, please help me not take a cow pie to work in a bag and throw it at my boss. All those times that she rolls her eyes at me, grunts at my "stupidity", claps her hands in my face, talks to me like I'm an idiot, please in those moments help her to know that she is walking a very thin line with a very crazy lady. We haven't got Reed potty trained yet, so I still have access to some very nasty substances which I could very easily rub all over the door-handles on her car.
Help me to remember why a sense of humor is so important, and help everyone reading to know that I still have one. It just gets lost behind a very thick fog sometimes.
However melodramatic, I've decided to write a prayer here just to get it out, solidify it. Then whenever I feel too tired to pray I can come back and read this.
God, please watch over my family and friends.
Please watch my mama. Keep her safe, and make her life good. Give her happiness and relief from stress and let her have the ability to find some peace now that she's raised her children. Please give her the knowledge that she's done a good job.
Please help my sister to find some happiness in a life that is different from what she imagined as a child. Help her to relax and find some goodness in her life, and to let go of all her disappointments.
Please help my dad to be happy and safe and healthy. Help him to know that his kids are all good people, even if we're so far from perfect.
Please help Jason's mom to find some peace and to know that she did a good job with her children. Help her to know that their fierce love of life is a testament to what kind of parent she is.
Please help Jason's dad to love himself, to be proud of his own tough brand of fathering. Help him to remember that his children love him.
Please keep Jason's brothers and their families safe, and keep them on the path to a great life, a path I think they are already on.
Please give happiness and safety to the rest of our families, our uncles and aunts and cousins and step-parents and all of their families.
Please watch over Kristi and Chris. Help them to stay as happy as they are now, to remember this time when life gets harder or different, to have a life with babies and good jobs and friends who love them and take care of them.
Please help Andy to find some happiness, to let go of some of the awful things he's been through and feel a little lighter. Watch over Diane and give her the peace of mind that she deserves as a woman who has worked her entire life to make a good life for her children.
Please help Lindsey to know that her life will be full and perfect and that this time when things are swimming around her and everything is murky will one day be gone. Help her to remember that when her life seems mired in pain and uncertainty, her friends still love her and still want everything to get better, and that's a start.
Please help Stephanie to find some peace, some calm, some ability to see clearly in the dark. Please give James the ability to center down, to remember how delicate life is, to remember how much he loves life and smiling and his future wife.
Please watch over all my friends who I don't see as often- Deanna, Brock, Linnea, Johnny, Derek, Mason, Jasper, Amanda, John, probably others whose names aren't coming to me now- help them to be happy, keep them safe.
God, please watch over Kane and Jude and help them to understand that parents can't always agree. Help them to understand that having divorced parents, fighting parents, is not their fault and that everything will be okay. Help them to forgive us for being imperfect and not always knowing the right answer. Help them to remember that this life is not perfect and even when things are disappointing, we are always trying really, really hard.
Please keep my baby safe. Please, God, just be with Reed and don't let anything bad happen to him. I am having a hard time right now not thinking about all the bad things that can happen to a child, all the illness and accidents and tragedies. Please just let Reed have a long happy life that I can enjoy with him. Please don't let him be a crazy person like me. Please give him the ability to be a hard worker and a fierce lover of his friends and family and a person who can love his life with reckless abandon.
Please help Jason to remember why he fell in love with me, why I fell in love with him. Please let us know how to persevere. Please help us to find our roles with each other as a team, as a pair of people who want the same things, and people who want good things for each other. Please help him find everything he's looking for. Please keep him safe.
Please help me to be a better person. Jesus, please, just help me let go of some of this grief that is inexplicably lodged in my heart. Please don't let me waste this time, this time with Jason and Reed and Kane and Jude, being a sad person, a crazy person. Please help me to know the right thing to do in all these situations I find myself in, these moments when I feel lost, when I forget for a moment that I'm not a kid, when I think that I can't possibly be old enough to make the decisions that I'm faced with. Please help me hold on these last little remnants of my ability to have a good time, to smile and laugh, to get pleasure out of watching other people laugh. Help me remember that my children are fragile and I must always think about every action, every comment, every single thing that I do and how it will affect them. Please give me the strength and grace to combine the very best qualities of my favorite people, to be like my mother and Kristi and Lindsey and Jason and Stephanie and Deanna and to have the quick, witty sense of humor and irony that Kane and Jude and Reed have. Help me to remember why I am not perfect, why Jason isn't perfect, to remember that our flaws are beautiful and that without them, we would be someone else. Please give me some peace in the night, some time when I don't wonder if the doors are locked, some time when I don't wonder what that sound was, some moments when I'm not thinking about all the bad stuff that could be about to happen.
Oh God, please don't forget about Leonard Peltier. I cannot imagine how hard his life has been, still is, how much longing he must have to hold his grandchildren, to stroke their hair and tell them that he loves them.
Please help all of us to do better, to think more about this living, breathing organism that is the world we live in. Help us to remember that it is our responsibility to make sure that there still is a world for our children, that this fierce love and fear we have for them is the same fierce love and fear they will have for their own children, and that we have a hand in deciding how much they will have to worry about their families, their lives, their futures.
And God, as long as I'm making requests, please help me not take a cow pie to work in a bag and throw it at my boss. All those times that she rolls her eyes at me, grunts at my "stupidity", claps her hands in my face, talks to me like I'm an idiot, please in those moments help her to know that she is walking a very thin line with a very crazy lady. We haven't got Reed potty trained yet, so I still have access to some very nasty substances which I could very easily rub all over the door-handles on her car.
Help me to remember why a sense of humor is so important, and help everyone reading to know that I still have one. It just gets lost behind a very thick fog sometimes.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Flowers or weeds?
The last week or so has been a blur, an exhausting whirlwind of good and bad and ugly.
Our show at Speakeasy was fantastic- we sold a whole lot of stuff and did a whole lot of networking. Some new things have opened up for us as a consequence and I'm looking forward to moving ahead with our artistic careers. Plus we drank a lot, laughed a lot, and got lots of hugs from people we love very much.
It turns out Reed had walking pnemonia, but now he's on the mend. He's been sleeping through the night with no nasty coughing fits, which is good for everyone involoved.
Kane and Jude are back from spring break and ready to get this last month of school over with.
We are about to embark, I think, on a very long and painful journey with lawyers and courts and finger-pointing and I'm really not looking forward to it. Part of me hesitates to say much about it, but the larger part wants to rant and rave and scream and spill it all out for you. And for me. And for my knotted stomach and swimming head.
Kane and Jude's mom has decided that the kids should live with her
to go to school and stay with us for all the weekends, holidays, and in the summer- pretty much the exact opposite of the way things are now. She says that this is her decision to make and the fact that we don't agree to it doesn't matter.
Luckily a few people who are very close to us are very invested in this situation and are helping us figure out what path we're going to take. That's all I'm going to say for now, except to say that I hope you can all bear with me through what is bound to be a difficult time for all of us. I appreciate everyone who reads this and I'll try to keep things balanced and rational.
But I make no promises.
Our show at Speakeasy was fantastic- we sold a whole lot of stuff and did a whole lot of networking. Some new things have opened up for us as a consequence and I'm looking forward to moving ahead with our artistic careers. Plus we drank a lot, laughed a lot, and got lots of hugs from people we love very much.
It turns out Reed had walking pnemonia, but now he's on the mend. He's been sleeping through the night with no nasty coughing fits, which is good for everyone involoved.
Kane and Jude are back from spring break and ready to get this last month of school over with.
We are about to embark, I think, on a very long and painful journey with lawyers and courts and finger-pointing and I'm really not looking forward to it. Part of me hesitates to say much about it, but the larger part wants to rant and rave and scream and spill it all out for you. And for me. And for my knotted stomach and swimming head.
Kane and Jude's mom has decided that the kids should live with her
to go to school and stay with us for all the weekends, holidays, and in the summer- pretty much the exact opposite of the way things are now. She says that this is her decision to make and the fact that we don't agree to it doesn't matter.
Luckily a few people who are very close to us are very invested in this situation and are helping us figure out what path we're going to take. That's all I'm going to say for now, except to say that I hope you can all bear with me through what is bound to be a difficult time for all of us. I appreciate everyone who reads this and I'll try to keep things balanced and rational.
But I make no promises.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
You gotta know when to hold 'em.
Ah, life. Such a tricky little bitch, eh?
We've managed to push through the moment when we thought we would never get everything done for our show; now it appears that we'll have around 50 photos, 65 pieces of jewelry, and 3 paintings for sale, as well as a good-lookin' portfolio to peruse. Now there's room to be excited about it again, since the fear and dread have worn off.
Kane and Jude are at their mom's house for spring break and our house has been quiet, in both a relaxing and unnerving kind of way. The peace and calm that sets in when we have one child instead of three is nice in that we can regroup, rekindle, and revive. But I have to say, I get so accustomed to our life with Kane and Jude that I find myself sort of spinning my wheels at times.
Their mother called today to let Jason know that he should come early to pick them up on Sunday because she has something to talk to him about and something for him to "take a look at". She apparently refused to divulge anything about the nature of the issue; she would only repeat that Jason can come early to "talk" and "look". This, too, is unsettling since our experiences with her, both ours as a married couple and Jason's on his own, have been tumultuous and unpredictable. More on this on Sunday when there is more to tell.
Reed has inherited my tendency towards constant illness of some kind. We're hoping it's just allergies, but he has a really nasty cough that keeps him up at night, and it makes it hard for all of us to act like normal humans during the daylight hours. Last night he came to bed with us around three a.m., and this morning there were literally loogies all over the bed where Reed had been sleeping. It's really lovely, the blobs of phlegm all over our sheets. Then when he came home from school today, he had a pretty bad tantrum after I had to physically wrench the gum out of his mouth that he kept nearly sucking down his throat with every hacking cough, and then passed out at 6:45, about three hours earlier than he normally goes to sleep. Right now he's still in bed, and I'm sort of pacing about the house waiting for him to wake up and stay up all night long.
But maybe he'll stay asleep! Who knows? It's like roulette except I NEVER win money. Here, the house NEVER wins, and neither do I. How's that for odds?
We've managed to push through the moment when we thought we would never get everything done for our show; now it appears that we'll have around 50 photos, 65 pieces of jewelry, and 3 paintings for sale, as well as a good-lookin' portfolio to peruse. Now there's room to be excited about it again, since the fear and dread have worn off.
Kane and Jude are at their mom's house for spring break and our house has been quiet, in both a relaxing and unnerving kind of way. The peace and calm that sets in when we have one child instead of three is nice in that we can regroup, rekindle, and revive. But I have to say, I get so accustomed to our life with Kane and Jude that I find myself sort of spinning my wheels at times.
Their mother called today to let Jason know that he should come early to pick them up on Sunday because she has something to talk to him about and something for him to "take a look at". She apparently refused to divulge anything about the nature of the issue; she would only repeat that Jason can come early to "talk" and "look". This, too, is unsettling since our experiences with her, both ours as a married couple and Jason's on his own, have been tumultuous and unpredictable. More on this on Sunday when there is more to tell.
Reed has inherited my tendency towards constant illness of some kind. We're hoping it's just allergies, but he has a really nasty cough that keeps him up at night, and it makes it hard for all of us to act like normal humans during the daylight hours. Last night he came to bed with us around three a.m., and this morning there were literally loogies all over the bed where Reed had been sleeping. It's really lovely, the blobs of phlegm all over our sheets. Then when he came home from school today, he had a pretty bad tantrum after I had to physically wrench the gum out of his mouth that he kept nearly sucking down his throat with every hacking cough, and then passed out at 6:45, about three hours earlier than he normally goes to sleep. Right now he's still in bed, and I'm sort of pacing about the house waiting for him to wake up and stay up all night long.
But maybe he'll stay asleep! Who knows? It's like roulette except I NEVER win money. Here, the house NEVER wins, and neither do I. How's that for odds?
Monday, April 07, 2008
When Kane watches the show, I spontaneously develop a nervous tick.
Tonight I am battling with all my strength a serious headache and aching, burning ribs that shout WHY? WHY WOULD YOU MOVE WHEN YOU COULD JUST GET ON THE FLOOR AND LIE THERE?
I have just one anecdote for you. This evening I was cooking myself a quesadilla while Kane, Jude, and Reed sat at our kitchen table and ate theirs. Reed was, for the love of all that expects me to survive this month without taking a spatula and beating my face with it until I pass out or go blind, sitting quietly, eating, and nodding his head at everything that Kane and Jude were saying.
Then Kane says, "Jude I put our [I will never remember the name of this Pokemon dinosaur thingy that they have on some game on the internet] in daycare." Jude, bless his heart, actually froze, put his hand flat over his chest, and said, "MY [Pokemon dinosaur thingy]? WHY?" Kane thoughtfully replied, "Well, he has to grow and learn and socialize. When we check on him tomorrow, I bet he'll have metamorphosed into a [the next metamorphosis* of this Pokemon dinosaur thingy]. Jude took a deep breath and was like, "Mm, okay. I hope he's alright."
And I realized, THEY WERE ME AND JASON. They were such proud, thoughtful, caring and concerned parents right in that moment.
And then Reed dipped his quesadilla in his orange juice and ate it, and Kane and Jude proceeded to moan and convulse and gag.
* Did you know that they metamorph? I knew that, on account of I played Pokemon, the card game, for quite some time several years ago. I actually had hundreds of Pokemon cards organized into these long, cardboard boxes, and I had a killer deck that was pretty hard to beat. LOADS of things I haven't gotten to on this blog yet.
I have just one anecdote for you. This evening I was cooking myself a quesadilla while Kane, Jude, and Reed sat at our kitchen table and ate theirs. Reed was, for the love of all that expects me to survive this month without taking a spatula and beating my face with it until I pass out or go blind, sitting quietly, eating, and nodding his head at everything that Kane and Jude were saying.
Then Kane says, "Jude I put our [I will never remember the name of this Pokemon dinosaur thingy that they have on some game on the internet] in daycare." Jude, bless his heart, actually froze, put his hand flat over his chest, and said, "MY [Pokemon dinosaur thingy]? WHY?" Kane thoughtfully replied, "Well, he has to grow and learn and socialize. When we check on him tomorrow, I bet he'll have metamorphosed into a [the next metamorphosis* of this Pokemon dinosaur thingy]. Jude took a deep breath and was like, "Mm, okay. I hope he's alright."
And I realized, THEY WERE ME AND JASON. They were such proud, thoughtful, caring and concerned parents right in that moment.
And then Reed dipped his quesadilla in his orange juice and ate it, and Kane and Jude proceeded to moan and convulse and gag.
* Did you know that they metamorph? I knew that, on account of I played Pokemon, the card game, for quite some time several years ago. I actually had hundreds of Pokemon cards organized into these long, cardboard boxes, and I had a killer deck that was pretty hard to beat. LOADS of things I haven't gotten to on this blog yet.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Much ado about balls.
Today some of the neighbor children were playing in the back yard with Kane, Jude, and Reed. I was attempting to straighten up inside when Kane came in with teary eyes and asked if I could please tell their friend D to go home. I asked him what was going on.
"Well, a minute ago Earl elbowed me in the back. That didn't hurt too bad, but then just now D punched me in the balls."
I have to tell you, there are very few things in life that render me completely unable to speak. Get out your camera and take a picture, because this is one of them.
While we're on the subject, last Thursday Kristi was here and we were getting Reed ready for bed. He was in the tub and telling a really long story that we couldn't really understand. He kept leaning back on his hands and lifting his hips out of the water, and we eventually discerned that he was talking about falling down and hurting his little boy area. Then, when he stopped talking and Kristi and I just sat there staring at him, he was forced to say, "MY DICK." Like, "GOOD LORD, do I have to spell it out for you?"
We were like, RIGHT. EXACTLY. We managed to distract him onto another subject, but the moment is forever burned into my brain.
I can't wait until he's sixteen and I can send links to this blog to his girlfriend.
"Well, a minute ago Earl elbowed me in the back. That didn't hurt too bad, but then just now D punched me in the balls."
I have to tell you, there are very few things in life that render me completely unable to speak. Get out your camera and take a picture, because this is one of them.
While we're on the subject, last Thursday Kristi was here and we were getting Reed ready for bed. He was in the tub and telling a really long story that we couldn't really understand. He kept leaning back on his hands and lifting his hips out of the water, and we eventually discerned that he was talking about falling down and hurting his little boy area. Then, when he stopped talking and Kristi and I just sat there staring at him, he was forced to say, "MY DICK." Like, "GOOD LORD, do I have to spell it out for you?"
We were like, RIGHT. EXACTLY. We managed to distract him onto another subject, but the moment is forever burned into my brain.
I can't wait until he's sixteen and I can send links to this blog to his girlfriend.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Don't they have any cling wrap or anything?
Kane has informed us that today was a busy day at his school. One kid got suspended for bringing porn to school, another kid had a seizure, and an eighth-grade girl is pregnant.
Kane's day got even busier when I fell into the floor and started having a seizure of my own.
Seriously, this is what we have to deal with now. I imagined that we would have to worry about this stuff when Kane got to high school; I just got shafted out of two years of preparation time. Where "preparation time" stands for "heavy drinking".
I know that this stuff happens; I know that this 13-year-old girl isn't the first thirteen-year-old girl to get pregnant. I KNOW IT. But, just like people imagine that their children will be well-behaved, quiet, contemplative, calm, patient, people imagine that their children won't have sex until they're, I don't know, OLD ENOUGH TO DRIVE TO THE CHEVRON TO BUY CONDOMS. Seriously, that girl can't get her own contraceptives, and now she's pregnant. It's actually the fault of the DMV.
My point is that just as I have come to terms with the fact that my children are going to misbehave, yell, hit, and writhe, I am starting to fear that I will have to come to terms with driving my child's girlfriend to the doctor for prenatal care, since my child won't be old enough to drive her himself. Hell; my child's pregnant girlfriend's PARENTS might not be old enough to drive her there- less and less surprises me.
What I'm saying is that parenting is not for me. Nevermind. I'm returning all three of them tomorrow. Now I just have to find the receipt.
P.S. Kane was just telling us that in his English class they had to write and autobiography including some things they want to do in the future. "By the time I'm thirty I want to be the first man to land on an asteroid and discover a new metal." So I probably don't have to worry about the sex stuff for at least a few more years.
Kane's day got even busier when I fell into the floor and started having a seizure of my own.
Seriously, this is what we have to deal with now. I imagined that we would have to worry about this stuff when Kane got to high school; I just got shafted out of two years of preparation time. Where "preparation time" stands for "heavy drinking".
I know that this stuff happens; I know that this 13-year-old girl isn't the first thirteen-year-old girl to get pregnant. I KNOW IT. But, just like people imagine that their children will be well-behaved, quiet, contemplative, calm, patient, people imagine that their children won't have sex until they're, I don't know, OLD ENOUGH TO DRIVE TO THE CHEVRON TO BUY CONDOMS. Seriously, that girl can't get her own contraceptives, and now she's pregnant. It's actually the fault of the DMV.
My point is that just as I have come to terms with the fact that my children are going to misbehave, yell, hit, and writhe, I am starting to fear that I will have to come to terms with driving my child's girlfriend to the doctor for prenatal care, since my child won't be old enough to drive her himself. Hell; my child's pregnant girlfriend's PARENTS might not be old enough to drive her there- less and less surprises me.
What I'm saying is that parenting is not for me. Nevermind. I'm returning all three of them tomorrow. Now I just have to find the receipt.
P.S. Kane was just telling us that in his English class they had to write and autobiography including some things they want to do in the future. "By the time I'm thirty I want to be the first man to land on an asteroid and discover a new metal." So I probably don't have to worry about the sex stuff for at least a few more years.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
I would like some wine with this cheese.
So on Sunday Kane and Jude's bikes were stolen. They were on the carport, chained to a post with a titanium bicycle chain. It was midday, and I was at home. No shit- someone apparently came up and cut through the "impenetrable" titanium chain and hauled off two medium-sized trick bikes in broad daylight, while I was in my bed complaining about all the aches and snot.
Jason came home and was like, "Do you know where the kids' bikes are?" I was like, "NO. But I know where the FLU is. RIGHT HERE, BUDDY." But don't worry; then my indignation set in.
My flu-induced stupor kept me from encouraging Jason to call the police and file a report until he came home from work last night telling me about seeing some 15-year-old kid riding Kane's bike around just a mile or two away from here. Finally I was like, "Wait a minute! Before you go beat up a minor, how 'bout we call the cops?" Of course Jude was raring to go with Jason looking for this kid, and I let Jude know that if his dad was going to go abuse a child, he would have to stay at home. (He moped.)
So the policeman came over and got all the information from Jason; the entire time they were on the front porch talking, Jude was standing at the front door staring out with little hearts bubbling up above his head.
Reed heard Jason talking and asked what he was doing. I said, "He's outside, talking to a policeman." Reed thought about it for a minute and then exclaimed, "EWWWWWWWWW, NASTY!!"
So the policeman said the description sounded like someone they had busted several times stealing bikes, and said he'd call us if they found anything. We haven't heard back yet. It IS kind of sad, though; they haven't had the bikes for long, and they were kind of expensive. Plus, it's the SECOND time Kane's has been stolen.
For Pete's sake, we really need a break around here.
Jason came home and was like, "Do you know where the kids' bikes are?" I was like, "NO. But I know where the FLU is. RIGHT HERE, BUDDY." But don't worry; then my indignation set in.
My flu-induced stupor kept me from encouraging Jason to call the police and file a report until he came home from work last night telling me about seeing some 15-year-old kid riding Kane's bike around just a mile or two away from here. Finally I was like, "Wait a minute! Before you go beat up a minor, how 'bout we call the cops?" Of course Jude was raring to go with Jason looking for this kid, and I let Jude know that if his dad was going to go abuse a child, he would have to stay at home. (He moped.)
So the policeman came over and got all the information from Jason; the entire time they were on the front porch talking, Jude was standing at the front door staring out with little hearts bubbling up above his head.
Reed heard Jason talking and asked what he was doing. I said, "He's outside, talking to a policeman." Reed thought about it for a minute and then exclaimed, "EWWWWWWWWW, NASTY!!"
So the policeman said the description sounded like someone they had busted several times stealing bikes, and said he'd call us if they found anything. We haven't heard back yet. It IS kind of sad, though; they haven't had the bikes for long, and they were kind of expensive. Plus, it's the SECOND time Kane's has been stolen.
For Pete's sake, we really need a break around here.
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