(moved from Word to Blogger)
Friday, December 07, 2012
Wednesday, August 01, 2012
So...tomorrow is a big day. I've been avoiding the thought, pretending it's no big deal. But as I watched my tall, strapping, handsome sons wrestling around and bouncing and laughing out on their trampoline...it hit me. My son, my first born twin, my darling child with all the fucked up health issues, will be under the knife again tomorrow. Almost exactly 12 years from the day they came home from the hospital. Almost exactly 12 years from the day the first neurosurgeon placed the VP shunt that they are finally replacing tomorrow. And I know it's a routine procedure. But it's still brain surgery. And there is still that chance...however small...that the boy I know will be changed forever. Just writing that makes me feel better, because my gut says he will be just as funny and cantankerous and wonderful as he is today. But. I cried over the sink full of dishes anyway.
And here is the essay I wrote 7 years ago, about the whole thing.
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
that would be so much more appropriate at this point.
I am happy.
I am also lonely and _________.
So many different words could fill in that blankety blank blank right now.
But they won't.
Because I can't even say them...just...
Don't want to give in to the sadness.
I'm sure half of this is hormonally motivated, or what, is it like...a full moon or some shit??
But the bare bones truth of the matter is that I am alone
Sure, it's summer now, so the kids are technically here all day.
But they're like, ya know, TWELVE now, and they've always needed each other more than they needed me.
Or maybe "liked" is a better word than "needed."
They love me, but they prefer each other's company.
I don't blame them...I am the Mom, they are the Twins.....and they are friggin BOYS, to boot.
They don't want to watch Anne of Green Gables and dream of princes and play Barbies--
And so we have little in common.
Since I don't shoot air soft guns or enjoy video games of war and such.
I feel like such a misfit sometimes...I thought being a Mom would be so fun...so natural.
But instead, I constantly feel left out and confused and out of touch.
I don't get to be the soft-sweet-singing-giggling Mommy, I have to be the no-stop hitting him-don't-touch-that Mom. I have to remind them for the 4 millionth time to CLOSE THE GODDAMNED SHOWER CURTAIN or whatever the hell is the cause of the fucking drenched bath mat/2-3 towels after every shower I have to force them to take.
I need a fucking girl's night out, the only problem is that I live in fucking Iowa now.
I am acquainted with precisely 2 women.
They are each the wife of one of my husband's co-workers, and I don't get the sense that we are destined to be friends, not all together, at least. I think I will be friends with each of them, separately. They don't seem likely to mix. But I could be wrong. Either way, the fucking point is that I don't really have the option and I just miss my friends, and I miss my Mom and I am mad at my Dad, but I miss him, too, and I worry about him in the fucking Philippines and I worry for Oliver's surgery on Thursday and I am just tired.
But I shouldn't be tired, because I don't DO ANYTHING.
Well, maybe some laundry, dishes, baking, cooking...but, like, way more Castleville than I would admit to if the proof wasn't splashed all over Facebook.
I feel like I'm fighting off a tsunami of emotions with an origami sword and shield...
And I kind of feel like just crawling into bed and waiting for it all to pass, but that is THE OPPOSITE of what I feeeeeel like doing!!!!
I am sick of doing so much NOTHING.
I am sick of the self-indulgence with which I pass my days...I feel guilty and panicked because I do so little.
And play the aforementioned annoying and embarssing game.
But I don't WRITE.
And I don't create.
And I don't explore, exercise, examine, exult..............
I need stimulation, dammit!!!
I need to register for classes and power through these last free days of summer, then put my nose to the grindstone.........
I just hope I don't drown in my own paddling pool of self-pity before then.
Good lawd, I'm dramatic today.
Here's hoping this little therapy session helped me find steady ground.
And maybe I will tap into a little momentum and rock my way out of my rut tomorrow....
Sunday, July 29, 2012
the long dark shadow that follows me
sweeps around and kicks me—
—in the chest.
And for a little while,
I can’t breathe
(but I do),
And I am filled with the cold
That comes from the toes
Of that dark shadowy beast,
Still lodged in my chest.
I push away,
Push at my Love,
Accusing him of causing this
He melts through my lightly icy
Walls of defense,
standing steady and solid,
Warm and unflappable beside me,
Until I sigh and lean into him,
that the long
Sprouts from within
Monday, July 23, 2012
Yup, still in denial! :)
I spent 6 weeks traveling, which is swell,
but just sort of left me feeling more topsy turvy than ever.
Definitely made me crave coming "home,"
which felt good because I need to start considering this home.
I just don't.
And probably never will.
Which is also ok.
No hard feelings, Iowa.
Nothing personal, Midwesterners.
I'll never hate this place like I hated Utah (though I miss it now, for the wonderful chunk of family that I leave there),
and I'll never love anywhere like I love Maine.
It is nice here, pleasant.
I just want to be in Maine.
Duh...are we surprised??
This little housewife has always whined about going Home.
I had a lovely time in Florida, then flew to Maine where I fell into the river of my sister's vacation and enjoyed the time with her very much, then drove to Utah (4 days in the car with my Mom, and we never ran out of stuff to jabber on about), where I spent some quality time with family and reunited with my kiddos.
That had to be written as one sentence because it felt like a long one...
I didn't really have control of anything on the majority of my trip, which was kind of hard...
but I tried to just let go and enjoy it.
I generally succeeded, but it is nice to be home again, and Master of my own fate again.
It makes me want to stay inside
Grateful for air conditioning
and ice cream.
Grateful for my Love.
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
for anyone out there keeping score.
I've taken on a hobby--
going to job interviews
just for someone to talk to...
Then turning down the jobs
because they suck.
Lots of travel plans to sort out for the summer...
Nothing set in stone, but I'll keep y'all posted.
Yeah, I just said, "Y'all."
I regret it.
Life is good.
Tuesday, April 03, 2012
For no reason,
(or maybe some reason)
I am growly around the edges.
Headachy, too, but I'm not sure they're connected.
Maybe I want to bite other people's heads off in the hopes of finding a cure for the pain inside mine.
Eh, it's not really pain, just ache.
Run of the mill headache.
I have had more headaches in the last 3 years than in my whole other 33 years combined.
Which I should find odd, but somehow...don't.
I hate a whiney blog post.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
a barbeque grill
a fart vacuum
ahem...you get the point.
We drove 25 hours over two days to Maine,
and 23 hours over two days back to Iowa.
The first one included a slight detour to stay the night with good friends in Pittsburgh.
That's a lot of driving.
With two restless 11-year-olds in the backseat.
They rocked it.
And my favorite part of the whole driving experience was around 2am on the first day of driving on our way back to Iowa.
The kids had been sleeping off and on all day, so were wide awake for the after-midnight stretch of driving that took us to our just-past-halfway goal for the night.
I roped them into playing that game, and it kept me awake through the hardest part of the night.
We laughed and laughed, and they would have lost very early on, but I coached them because I didn't want to stop playing.
The visit to Maine itself was fast and furious, filled with friends and...fucking cleaning. Sorry, I was on an alliteration roll, there...
We finished things up at our house and brought the camper back to Iowa with us.
It was surreal to be there...
everything has always felt so right, so perfectly aligned there, so comfortable.
And I just wanted to stay.
I wanted it more than anything.
So it's good to see that some things never change, right?
I guess I found my answer: too much contentment isn't good for my creative process.
And I guess I should thank Fate or the Universe for pushing Maine out of my reach instead of Michael...
that would have been far more devastating.
I would write, alright, but it wouldn't be anything worth reading...
it would be, like, Edgar Allen Poe meets Adele or something. :)
Soooooo.....here I sit, in Iowa.
Trying to convince myself that I do, indeed, live here.
And that I may not get to move back to my beautiful Maine any time soon.
And it just sort of leaves me depressed.
But I think if I keep pushing, and keep trying, I will find a way to accept this place.
This too-nice, too-boring place.
Somewhere with nothing dramatic in the landscape, nothing daring in the fabric
of its citizens, just politeness and pleasantness and NO SWEARING and
Christianity preached from billboards and bumper stickers.
How the fuck am I going to survive this shit????
But....I don't think I have the energy to push against this place like I did against Utah.
I'm basically happy.
This time...will I join em, instead of trying to beat