brain broken, need sleep, send sleep
The last time I slept - I mean really slept - was in 1974. Ok, not really but it has been a while. As in years. It has been years since I slept really really well. I know it's boring to be a mom whining about how she is overworked and tired and always tripping over toys but dammit it's all true. That and so much more.
Thing is, I used to have a brain and I'm not saying I always used it but I had the option. Any time, day or night, I could stop and think if the fancy took me. I could add up a short list of numbers without blowing a gasket. I could read and understand paragraphs at a time. These days I need a calculator to add two numbers and someone to remind me how a calculator works. And reading. Did you know that it is damned near impossible to digest anything read in fits and spurts? A half sentence at a time just isn't gonna get War And Peace finished and understood. And writing, forget about it. It has taken me four days to write the above two paragraphs.
So now I am either dumb or a little flakey but cute. And we all know I'm getting a little old to pull off cute and flakey without seeming utterly ridiculous. Which leaves dumb. Which ain't good.
I think I can get it back though, my ability to compute basic information. Maybe even more than that. Maybe some day I will be smart again (and I really think I may have been just a little). But it's got to start with sleep. Hours and hours of it uninterrupted. It'll take years to recover but I think it can be done. Only think of the brilliance I'll be able to share with you all then!
For now though I will plug along in the fog I've come to think of as entirely normal and endeavour to read when I can, write when I can and mathematicalisize as often as possible. I hear crosswords are good exercise for the brain. Anyone have a copy of the New York Times? If I get started now I can have this week's puzzle done by my next birthday. If I work at it non stop, of course.
he said she said
he said: you go get it, i had a migraine today.
she said: i had a migraine, a period and i've given birth to two children. what the hell have you ever done?
he went and got it, she waited here.
in the name of decency
I just sat down - laptop on lap, tv on - only to be assaulted by the threat of another Shocking Rose Ceremony. The Most Socking Rose Ceremony EVER, in fact. Ever. And all I could think was Make It Stop. Please. Someone.
Look, I like tv. I watch tv nearly every day of my life. Oh who am I trying to kid. There is not a day that goes by without some tv flowing happily into my soft welcoming brain. But even I, oh great lover of the medium, have my limits and all things Bachelor and/or Bachelorette are where my tv tolerance door slams shut. I cannot even tolerate the commercials. I feel it all sapping me of what little intellect I have left.
Come on, who the hell is this jackass that all of these women are fighting over. They are fighting over him. This Guy. Fighting over this one guy. Praying that he will give them a rose during Most Shocking Rose Ceremony after Most Shocking Rose Ceremony. Ever.
I know all this without watching the show because of the commercial assault I've already mentioned but also because even bloody Oprah Freakin' Winfrey is on board with this malarky. God in Heaven the world has gone mad. Right bloody mad.
I know the world is full of bigger fish to fry than silly shows about silly people begging to be the chosen one. I know that in just a few short days the American people are going to decide not only their own fate but also the impact of their fate on the global community. That's far more serious than The Most Shocking Rose Ceremony Ever (Again). But I'm going to start small and ask that we all turn our tv's off come Bachelor night whereby possibly saving some brain cells for the bigger issues of the day.
In the name of decency, people, turn that shite off.
things that are evil
animal crackers
movie theater popcorn
bad haircuts
computer malfunctions
when cheques don't come in the mail
bills
when fat jeans are tight
big boobs
(let's let the men recover from that last one...)
when you have an itch that won't go away (hey, now...not that kind of an itch)
missing your favorite show
dirty dishes
candy
people who buy the candy and bring it home (that would be me...)
cold feet (both literally and metaphorically)
irregular periods
lines at the post office
waiting
when a credit card is declined (although it's never happened to ME of course)
animal crackers (hide them, will you?)
despite all efforts
Before having my children I was not proficient at keeping a house. The suggestion that I ought to be offended me. Whether gainfully employed or aspiring without pay to be a professional writer I did not care to be associated with the details of maintaining my home. Things got done as a matter of neccessity but never based on traditional expectations set upon someone of my ilk (that is to say, someone who has breasts and innie bits).
Today I am an aspiring without pay Martha Stewart who has learned to bake and cook and clean. I iron every item that I wash, my family does not suffer the evils of store bought cookies and my tub is clean enough to eat off of.
So why then is my home such a mess? I have dedicated myself to this life of being mommy to these Glorious Children and within that dedication has come a concession that someone must make things liveable and if liveable why not nice. My linen closet is nearly always stocked with beautifully folded (and yes ironed) towels, my food pantry is a sight to behold. The Glorious Children are always sparkly when we go out, wearing clean, pressed clothes and rarely have a dirty face among them. But if you were to drop by on any given Sunday you would be shocked to discover (or perhaps not so shocked now) that we live in a state of perpetual disarray.
Is it The Children and their excellence at making rather than correcting messes?
Is it the fact that there are four people here every day all day who are busy living life without a care in the world for whether you will be dropping by?
Is it that the day is still made up of only 24 measly hours and that for so many of them my body still requires sleep?
No matter the effort I attend it I am forever tripping over a toy, a stray pair of jeans or shoes that don't stay where I leave them. So if you do drop by later be warned that I'll have to move the mountain of toys from in front of the door to let you in and the cushions of my couch are strewn about the family room. The lunch dishes are still on the counter and our jackets are hanging off the backs of the dining room chairs. Don't think me odd if I insist on showing you to our master bedroom where I will happily show off all of the clothes neatly tucked into drawers and indulge me if I ask you to eat off of our tub.
I am an embarrassment to Martha Stewart and all those like her. But I do try, I really do try.
send us the card or we'll break your kneecaps
A while back I got a letter in the mail from my gym. The letter said, and I'm quoting directly here, that my membership was about to end in the near future (no specific date mentioned) and should I not wish to continue on with the club beyond this unknown date I should return my membership card in the mail as per the membership agreement I signed without reading because what? It's not like I was signing a Friendship Agreement with George Dubya Bush and wanting to read the fine print. It was a gym memebrship and I felt fairly secure that there wouldn't be anything too weird going on.
So letter received, considered briefly and filed with all other such documents in an organized fashion on the kitchen table behind my laptop with stickers and important receipts from Wendy's and the like.
I intended to send the card for fear they would keep taking money from my account for the membership I no longer wanted (I plan to do pilates at home if you must know) much in the same way I always mean to pay the Visa bill on time. Life doesn't always leave room for every cotton pickin' detail and some things go undone. I think of it from time to time with pangs of guilt because I did, after all, sign the agreement in which I did agree to mail their card back to them and really since I did do that I should follow through, should I not?
Except for the fact that it's stupid. It's a crappy little card with a hand written number on it and no picture or anything. I don't even know where it is, to be totally honest. Ok, I do know where it is (behind the black and white picture of my dad on the antique sewing table just inside the front door of my house) but they don't have to know that. What, if I lost the card and then they sent me the letter I wouldn't ever be able to end my membership for not having a card to mail back to them? And what if I drop it off in person? What about that? Why should I lose the cost of a stamp over this anyway? Damn, I wish I'd kept the membership agreement so I could look all this up and see just where I stand. Maybe it's in this pile here behind my laptop...?
Frankly I'm feeling a little put off by it all and now that I think about it I'm not going to send them a damned thing and even if they were the last gym in town - no, on the planet - I would never join again. I'm a busy person (I am so!) and asking me to mail them a card when our contract has expired either way is taking things just one step too far. So they can make all the threats they want but the card is staying with me. I think I'll frame it and give it a name like Susan or Kurt. Not Jim though because that's silly.
my existence reaffirmed
yesterday Boy3 was shown the bank that mommy used to work at where upon he began to cry and say that i could not work there because i needed to be home to make cookies and love him.
today Girl1 and i were playing in the living room when i told her I love you to which she replied I love you (i won't bother with spelling it the way she actually said it because you would be annoyed with trying to decypher it all) for the first time ever.
children are made with a default mechanism that allows them to reduce mommy to a blubbering mess over the tiniest thing. it's what gets mommy through, so thank goodness for it.
mommy is right where she wants to be.
grouchy girl has another birthday
no singing please.
i can date the origin of my birthday misery to one of two times in my life: my something like 1oth birthday when everyone forgot or my 25th which was a month after my mom died. what i really think is that one on top of the other = birthdays suck. for the last eleven years i have been an unpleasant...let's just say it...bitch on or near my birthday.
today i am 36 years old.
Children and Husband just came in here to bring me gifts, the greatest of them being their excitement. Girl Child giggled her baby giggles and Boy Child declared Mommy it's your Birthday! when asked how old i am he said TWO! and held up two fingers which sealed the deal. it's remarkable how these people can both cause a grouchy fit and erase one entirely. today they have their erasers out and all is right in grouchy girl's world.
two happy children cancel out a forgotten birthday and ease the loss of one's own mommy.
everyone willl wonder so i will tell: 3 books (shopaholic ties the knot, shopaholic and sister, the devil wears prada - shut up, it's ok to read fun books) and a lovely sweater that returns to me my friend of old: the color pink. do not think PINK but more p i n k with some pretty browns and greens cozied up with it. really, it's nice. it only sounds like barf but it isn't barf.
as i eat my eggs in bed, sip my hot chocolate with miss katie couric grinning at me from across the room, surrounded by the fallout of gifts brought by one's children i can say this: i am not grouchy. i am renamed happy contented girl (has another birthday).
send gifts.
things that never go away
laundry
global stupidity
hunger
dishes
clutter
ignorance
wanting to be better
wanting to have more
my eternal sunshine (it's funny even trying to be serious about sounding so corny)
toys
being human
needing to pee and poop
to do lists
bills
winter
stupid people
the dog crap in my back yard
the dog
smelly next door neighbour
husband's collection of stuff (see clutter above in list)
duran duran (good thing bad thing: depends who you ask)
~no i haven't phoned my sister yet~
happy birthday sister
tomorrow is my sister's birthday and i only just thought of it a few minutes ago. we aren't speaking really. last christmas she went berserk so i told her that i have enough regular every day berserk in my life and don't need or want her brand any more. i invited her to my kids' birthday parties over the summer...she came to both but only stayed minutes at Girl's party because of mental issues she could not overcome. again. so i remembered that my birthday is on the 19th, that my sister's daughter's birthday is on the 20th but hers escaped me entirely.
it's not that i don't love her - it's that she doesn't know how to love me.
the funny thing about being the strong one is that you always have to take the first step to reconcile. her being of limited emotional strength makes it near impossible for her to do the right thing. don't get me wrong...she's good people. problem might be that she doesn't know that.
so do i call her tomorrow? it would be weird given that i never call her any other time. but who cares about weird? weird goes away quick. i just don't want that craziness in my life when i have a one year old and 3 year old and a husband with a heavy work load and poor work ethic. used to be that Sister could be my focus when she needed to be my focus by christ sake, who has that kind of time now?
blame the planet
maybe i am the way i am because of global warming. it's october and just the other day we were hot and had to have the air on at night. today it is raining and tomorrow it will snow and maybe next week we'll break out the sprinkler and let thie kids have a run through. is it any wonder i am constantly discombobulated? never mind the sleep deprivation, crappy diet, lack of exercise and drinking only enough water to stay alive at the most basic level. but i mean if i knew fairly predictably whether i was waking up to a jacket and pants day or a bikini and sun screen day the rest of it might fall more nicely into place.
don't misunderstand me - this is beautiful. the rainy street outside my window, the peaceful pitter patter on the roof and windows. lovely. but it's october, right, and october is not the rainy season. october is, just by way of reminder in case any one at the Board of Nature is reading, leaves falling and little kids buying halloween costumes. mostly you have to at least start out with a jacket in october even if by the end of the day you're lugging it around feeling hot and bothered. by the time the kids are wearing their halloween costumes and begging for free candy from people they don't know you can expect jackets are required and snow is either already there or on it's way.
this has been the worste summer in history (see how i am not even thinking of summer having ended...i am so confused!) and now a long long winter is about to begin. they say there will be a lot of snow and it's going to be really cold. hellfire, sign me up.
sickies
my sugar booger is sick and it's the worste feeling in the world to just have to wait it out. she is so little when she's laying on you, lumped out from mucus in her body. i feel so bad for her and even though it's nothing serious i can't help but worry. it's a mommy thing. i hope she feels better later today because this isn't right. no little bunnies should have to feel so yucky.
annoyance
dictionary dot com defines annoyance as:
a cause of irritation or vexation; a nuisance
i define annoyance as:
Madison clamping her teeth down on my nipple so many times a day and night.
Parker barking at nothing loudly so many times a day (but not night).
George Dubya Bush.
Dan requiring a lay down if his big toe hurts same as if her were bleeding from the eye due to ebola.
Being fat still from having babies.
but as i think about it i know that annoyance is a weakness. indulging in one's annoyance. having a hissy fit out of annoyance, being grouchy because one has been annoyed. or maybe it isn't. i am undecided but clearly feel bad because i have been annoyed today and had a hissy fit/been a grouch because of it.
so: i can either stop breastfeeding Madison or not, keep telling the dog to shut the fuck up or not, speak at length about what i think of the current political landscape in the US (there's no or not there), do some laying down of my own next time i stub my toe and finally...exercise and shut the hell up about being fat from having babies.
i'm trying to figure out what i would feel if i didn't feel annoyed and the answer is a blank. deep cleansing breath...anything?...no. still no clue. ah damn...it's acceptance, isn't it? ahhhhh, piss. acceptance of things i am annoyed by is so annoying.
