Something has to give in my life right now. At least for the next few weeks. My work load has quadrupled this week and will continue to for the next three weeks. This is what has to give in the moment. I will still be around. I always am. But trying to write is not something I have brain power for in the minute. (This two paragraph post just took me 45 minutes to finish.)
I’m having enough trouble remembering basics. Things like making lunches for my kids. Did I take more diapers to the daycare? Did I shampoo my hair already? Or did I take my allergy meds. All very important things, all of which I’ve forgotten this week…or in reality in the past day. Basically my kids got Lunchables from 7-11 this morning, I owe someone diapers, my hair is greasy from being over shampoo’d and I’ve probably doubled up on my allergy meds all week.
Anyway.
I’m going to take a blog break. Until tax season ends. I know I said this before and yet I’ve continued to post. This time, I’m sure. I’ll probably be back around my birthday. (April 20th)
Until then? I’ll see you when I see you.
Morgan is working on a project for school right now. It’s simple enough, except she seems to be lacking in data. (Possibly since she keeps forgetting to ask kids at school.) She’s making a graph…but went a little crazy on her questions. Too many choices if you ask me, which she didn’t. Ahem.
Anyway, so the questions are: which was your favorite Harry Potter novel? And which was your favorite Harry Potter movie? I keep reminding her that there is going to be another movie, but she claims it’s okay that it’s not there, as it will make her graph un-even. We can’t have that. *cough* Perfectionist *cough*
So? If you’ve seen them all and or read them all, which were your favorites? If you’ve seen all movies or read all books and not the other, just let me know that too. Please and thank you. 
ps. Anyone else find it odd that our childrens homework becomes our problem? HI TEACHER LADY, I ALREADY WENT TO SCHOOL!!!!
It’s 3am. I should be sleeping. Instead I am watching Bailey breath. In, out, in and out. I play with her hair. I kiss her last bits of remaining chipmunk cheeks. My baby isn’t a baby anymore. She’s tall and lanky and full of spunk. Yet here she is in my bed, curled around her tattered orange airplane blanket.The one leftover from the airplane room, when we thought she was going to be a boy.
I pulled her into bed with me at 1am, after an asthma attack and the subsequent nebulizer treatment. At that point, I have to watch her, even though I know she’s okay. I have to, because when I close my eyes, I see her as an 18 month old chubby cheeked baby in a hospital bed with double pneumonia. That was the year of pneumonia. Four times in one year. Two of which were spent in a hospital because her pulse ox was “not what I’m comfortable with“. When I close my eyes I see her at that age, as well as the x-rays her doctor showed us after round four. See these? These are scars. Most likely permanent scarring on her lungs. You need to keep these x-rays and remember it in the future.
Don’t worry doc, I remember. Even though it’s been years since I looked at those, I remember where all three marks are. Those are things a mother doesn’t forget.
Luck. We got lucky after that. While she’s had pneumonia many times since then, it has tapered off. She’s never again been hospitalized for it.
Today, I know she is fine. I know why she had trouble last night. There was/is a fire way too close to us. The pollen count was already way too high. It all makes for trouble breathing. I know why, but it doesn’t make it any easier.
A day spent at home, with periodic treatments and she will be fine. I know I am lucky.
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My dad has been coughing since before Thanksgiving. A bad, deep cough. The type of cough that doesn’t seem to be nothing. Yet, they couldn’t figure out what it was. He ignored it most of the time. It’s messed up his voice, it keeps him up at night, yet he decided to ignore it. He’s not a fan of doctors. When he finally went in, they decided to do a chest x-ray.
It showed spots, which his doctor didn’t believe was there before. It could be nothing, or it could be something. He scheduled him for a CAT scan. I didn’t sleep for days last week, contemplating the world case scenario.
Again. Luck. The CAT scan showed that it’s just scarring. Probably from the nearly six month cough. His blood work came back normal. They are changing his asthma meds around, in hopes that it stops the cough.
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Lungs can be scary. You need them to work. Scars on our lungs: my dad, my daughter and I all have a few. Hey, now we mach.
Today I am thankful. Thankful. Just plain thankful.
Also yes, except for the first one, I took them from my car. While driving even. I rock. I thought about rolling the window down, but it was chilly.
Can I ask you something? She says it tentatively, almost as if she regrets asking before she even finishes the sentence.
Sure friend. Anything.
Are you over him? Because you seem to be.
Him, being Logan of course. The answer is simple, yet not simple.
No I’m really not, I say. I just pretend well.
She let’s it go, as I knew she would. She’s my friend, but she’s also his cousin. She’s always careful what she says to both of us about the other. It’s been weeks and weeks since she even mentioned him to me.
My answer was simple, but not completely accurate. I am not over him. Some days I wonder if I ever will be. I still believe I will be that crazy goldfish (I’m allergic to cats) lady going from friends house to friends house when I’m old. I am not over him, but I’m resigned to being without him. I’ve gotten used to my life as it is now. I have my kids half the time, which I thought I’d never get used to, yet I did. Truth is, you can get used to anything. I work full time, I write when I have time, I do what I do. I spend too much time online, but hey I did that while married so it’s really no different. I go visit friends. I have dinner with friends here. I walk the dog. I contemplate what I want to do about my house. I’ve gotten used to this life. Most of the time, I even like it well enough.
Yet it wasn’t my choice. I didn’t choose this. It was what I was given and I’ve learned to deal with it.
I don’t fully blame him for our divorce. Divorce is generally a two way street. While I wasn’t the one to ask for it, I know our marriage downfall was my fault as much as his. I don’t hate him. I never could. We get along pretty well. Our kids come first 100% of the time.
I pretend well. That is true. I pretend to be over him, because it’s easier. Easier on me, on my children, on others.
Mostly though, I’m just resigned.
I know that I can’t do the Shred anymore. I’ve screwed up my knee royally. I badly pulled/strained/pissed off my meniscus ligament. Thankfully it’s not torn. I get to wear a brace for a few weeks, but it will heal in time.
I know that in a few weeks when I can do something again, I will find another from of exercise and start that. Something less hard on my knee.
I know that it sucks to start something, especially with other people and then have to give up on it. I should let it go. I know that and I will. But in this moment, it feels cruddy. I feel like I let my friends down. I sorta feel like I let myself down.
I know that tax season sucks. The amount of work I have to do each day is insane. It’s draining every last brain cell I have. It’s making me forget stupid things. Important things. Things like, where are my keys? Did I take my medication? Did I pay this bill already? (Answers: in the bathroom, yes and yes, but I paid it twice. Yay me!) It’s okay. It will be over in less than 5 weeks. Until then though? I may not be around as often. My blog reading has already dwindled to nothing. I’ve stopped being able to respond to most emails except for a sentence or two. Answering comments may not happen as much. I’ve not really been on Twitter much, which makes me sad. I’m just too tired though. Just know it’s not that I don’t like you, it’s that I honestly have no time or energy right now.
I know that as much as the time change has kicked my ass this week, I’m seriously loving the sun in the evenings. I’m loving warmer temperatures. I’m even trying to love my allergies, because it means spring is coming.
And that my friends, is what I know. How about you? What do you know today?
This is pretty much word for word. My kid? She’s funny. I finally got a home phone last week. Mostly out of sheer desperation to shut up Comcast.
Bailey: What’s this? *holds up phone sitting on the desk*
Me: A phone.
B: I SEE THAT MOM! But where did it come from?
Me: Target. I think.
B: No I mean does it work? Like you can call people?
Me: Well yes I suppose that is why one has a phone in their house.
B: When did it get here?
Me: Well see it just appeared outta nowhere…
B: MOM!
Me: Eh I got tired of telling Comcast no.
B: So I can call people?
Me: Well yes, I suppose that is what one does with a phone. Who do you want to call? You got a hot date with a boyfriend I don’t know about?
B: NO MOMMY! No one really. Just wondered.
Me: Well yes. I guess so.
B: Can they call me?
Me: Who?
B: My people mommy.
Me: Oh your people huh? You have people? Figures you would have people when I don’t.
B: *Eye roll*
Me: I guess so. If we gave “them” the number.
B: Do we have the number?
Me: Oh um no. I don’t think so. Well maybe. Nah. I have no clue what it is.
B: Well okay that isn’t helpful then.
Me: Never said having a real phone was helpful babe.
B: It could be helpful in an emergency.
Me: What type of emergency are you planning on having?
B: Um when zombies attack. Zombies hear cell calls you know. So you the real phone to call zombie killers.
Me: Ahhhh okay then. Babe? This is our zombie phone.
B: Well good. We needed one. You never know when a zombie attack will happen.
Me: Yes. I guess that is true.
B: You should thank Comcast for our zombie phone mom.
Me: I will babe. I will. Every month when I pay them.
Do you ever wonder what happens to people? The ones who fall off the Internet? The people you consider friends, who are there one day and not the next?
I had this friend a few years ago. Kim. Ponytails Kim. She and I were close for say six-seven months. The last four months of my pregnancy to Harrison and a few months after. She may not know it, but she helped me get through that pregnancy. Her humor helped me get through what was a very rough pregnancy. She cracked me up on a daily basis.
She has three girls, each a bit older than each of my kids and we’d trade funny kid stories. We’d chat on Gmail thought out the week. Every day, I looked forward to talking to her. She was, at the time, my life vest.
Then one day, when Harrison was maybe two month old she was just gone. I tried emailing her. Nothing. I waited a bit and tried again. Nothing. For a long time I worried that something I’d said had run her off. Then I started wondering what could have happened to her. Still, all this time has passed and I’ve never seen her around again.
I still hope that she shows up one day.
She’s not the first and I know she won’t be the last. Blogging is a hobby for most of us and after a time, people tend to get bored with it. They close up shop. Sometimes saying goodbye, sometimes going away into the night, never to be seen from again. I’ve been doing this a long time. 2005 was when I started blogging. I’ve seen more people come and go than I can even begin to tell you. But the ones who just disappear? I always wonder about them.
So let’s say you get this medical diagnosis. One that makes sense. One that is very obviously correct because you have all the symptoms. You’ve had all the symptoms for 15 years, no one ever bothered to see it. (Isn’t the medical community in this country superb?) The doctor hands you a little few page brochure and a prescription for medication and sends you on your way. She happens to mention…you will lose weight on this medication, because hey your body will start working correctly. If you exercise you will lose even more weight.
You start to dream. Dream of weight loss that has never happened for you, no matter which crazy diet you tried, nor amount of exercise. You dream of smaller clothes. Of cuter clothes. You dream of not feeling self conscious if you order junk food in front of a bunch of skinny people.
Then after a few days, the dream leaves. The fear that it’s false comes creeping back in. You get mad at yourself for having hope, for believing in something that may not happen for you. See years ago, after trying every diet and exercising all the dam time and not loosing a pound, you decided to embrace who you obviously were. The fat friend. You decided that while you couldn’t be skinny, you could still be healthy. That was what was important. You learned to just be you. Any hope of changing it somehow died.
But then here’s some doctor waving hope around on a piece of paper. You’ve already gotten your hopes up. You start exercising in hope that it helps.
But hope is scary. Hope feels false. Why if you were okay with who you were two months ago, are you not okay with who you are today? You feel confused. Hope is confusing.
And that’s where I am right now.
1. We got snow days for freezing cold weather, even though there was no snow on the ground. Yet today, it’s basically an ice skating rink out there and there is school. I saw FIVE accidents on the way to the school. One of which was at the end of my block, where a car went through my neighbors freaking back yard. Who thinks up this system?
2. Why Jillian Michaels keeps telling me not to phone it in. WTF? Really Jillian? I have to hear this every dam time I watch your stupid video? I DON’T call anyone. Who am I not phoning exactly? Tell me not to text it in and it may make more sense.
3. Why children fight over the color spoon they get. It’s a spoon. You eat off of it.
4. Why the girls school keeps sending home emails about the illnesses going around. Last week it was lice. This week it’s a “very nasty stomach bug”. You know what? I’m not sure I want to know in advance.
5. Why I always think I need a number 5, even if I don’t have that many things to say.
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