Humanity

hot apple cider

today i’m very strange. full warning.

  1. hot apple cider, available at the coffee shop. not coffee. and boy, when you ask for it plain, you get a look. however, this is new England and hot cider is a required force on a fall morning.
  2.  cider smells like breast-fed baby poop. i’m happy about that. also glad that it doesn’t TASTE like breast-fed baby poop.
  3.  I ran out of my kitchen (at 8:30 am) because my tenant was there. she lives there. I don’t have any problem with her. I just ran away, because.
  4.  I am afraid to talk to people at the ‘real’ health food store. because I feel guilt for fast food, and high fructose corn syrup and not enjoying cooking, and so I feel a fraud, or like I have to confess. Makes for an awful lot of drama. Sneakers at Coffeeshop Unwifedmotherexpletive
  5.  So many people here are still wearing flipflops, or sandals of some sort. I don’t care about toes but I do care too much about warmth and chilly-ness. too much, I know. but hats are imminent, people!
  6.  there’s all these women with babies under 6 months old. some mommy and me class must’ve just finished somewhere.
  7. plus, its gone from before 10 am to after 10 am and the place is hopping. who lives these lives? I wish they would all stop by my table and tell me. (not really, maybe. maybe.)
  8. I’m too distracted by my phone. memes can be really funny. i’m still tired of snark though.
  9.  I don’t ever want to be around pumpkin spice. i’m a purist. apple cider. i’m going to make a flag for my pickup.
  10. maybe they are nannies. this one does not have a body which has carried a child. are nannies a thing here? maybe i’m in the wrong end of town.
  11.  I have to go back home to take a walk, and to hear me some more Mother Teresa. because. what else would you do while waiting for the work to roll in, right?
  12.  I think a dozen is a pretty good place to stop. I imagine my Lionness getting down with the apple cider too.

(seriously, where the hell are all these babies coming from? there are SO many babies here! a meet-up?)

shitcakes and fuckery. I wrote that this week in a shared space and made two women laugh. and man that feels pretty great.

also wrote that I was a zipper in the wash.

love love love,

uwmf

Advertisements
Humanity

Christmas, and the wind howls…

so, there are these things.

  1. everyone should get divorced. everyone. because during the time that the former-spouse has the kids, you do not. so what i get is three full days before christmas in which i actually roll around in christmas spirit.  i might bake cookies, i might wrap something. I danced in the kitchen. i reveled. in the spirit of sparkle and gifting of greens, and all of it. i even went out to a store on christmas eve, to buy myself a present.  god bless marshall’s. i don’t think i’ve ever been into a store on christmas eve and i was there really early, and i was so happy to see that the employees were mostly giddy and laughing, and not beleagured.
  2. don’t get divorced because i say so.  really.
  3. but maybe you could shake things up and send them to your folks before the holiday, to give yourself your own merry. if you have folks, if you like merry.
  4. i just came downstairs after a long bath, ready to order pizza for dinner because i’ve been ill, and i’m ready for bed.  Its 1:23 in the afternoon.   this was both, a funny moment and a sad one.  the kids have been on screens for the entire day, and made their own lunches while i pointed weakly from the chair. barely.
  5. my mom dropped off gatorades because the 6 year old and i were not keeping down any water and i was concerned about other things… 6 year old has now fully recovered and even ate chicken nuggets.  that is frankly disgusting and i’m aware of the possibility of demonic possession.
  6. i am not recovered. but i’m typing, i’m looking out the window.  i’m so glad Christmas is over.  Its just too much for my kids.  Its all meerrrgh.  too many inflated expectations and disappointed faces. its insane.

 

do you like it? Christmas, I mean. If you do christmas? (though i’ve heard hannukah has its own challenges… and lasts 8 freaking days….) i like it, but only for my rolling around in glitter experience, not as an experience i have with kids. 1227181017a I’m not sure its good for them, and I’m sort of tired of doing it to them.

i’m not sure the ‘spirit of Christmas’ means someone should be distraught because they are just overstimulated.

there’s something of a feeling of being trapped by the expectations, as a parent… and i’d like to figure something out to change it up a bit, maybe give them a few more options as they move out into the world.

hm. we’ll see. i’ve got a little time.

 

Humanity

Snowblind. Blinded by the Light?

stymied.

this is the winter of my discontent, y’all.  i include the y’all to forcibly add some sun to my bleak inner bog.

and its really pretty easy to interject sun, because none of it is that bad.

I’m alone too much.  As much as I like it, the weekends are leaving me listless.  I have to force myself out into the world and then I run back home, but I’m depressed about it.   I don’t think thats good.

i’m happy pretty often. healthy, the kids are good, we’re in this blissful pre-teenager lull of everyone-is-pretty-content on the homefront period… and i’m digging it.

i know its fleeting and I’m watching it like the first snow. . .

1201181120a

I go to Salvation Army and sit down in the sofas… because it cracks me up.  Its me and the other old ladies…i take some photos, i send them around to friends to make them laugh. this is me begging for a foot rub… mah foots, mah foots…

but really, theres something shifting here… something tidal going on… salty snow, maybe. that slurry at the shore during the winter when the water is spitting foam on the sand…

i’m laughing more. nothing is working. i’m scared about money. i’m soldiering on trying to get editing jobs, which is sometimes working.  things just really aren’t ‘quite’ panning out the way they would in a romance. but we all know those things are for absolute shit. everything is breaking.

i’m dressing in the weirdest clothing, as i try to suit my weight gain and my love of my curves… the body that i am ‘used to’ dressing isn’t this one, and i’ve never had so much to contend with… (!) so … i’m trying things on… wearing a lot of draping fabrics, swishing skirts and so much softness.  I’m turning into some sort of mobile stuffed animal, i think.

which might attract the wrong crowd maybe… blech.

*i did meet one guy online who liked to wear adult diapers. for fun. wanted to call me mommy. i’m not even making that up.

on the other hand, i’ve met a lot of men who respected the hell out of the job i do as a mom. and found it sexy.  and I CANNOT TELL YOU HOW MUCH THAT MEANS.

to have the perception of others AND self be that one is a nag, an abandoned housewife in apron with straggly unkempt hair and dirty children … and to have that SHIFT to powerful, life-affirming, grounded, nourishing, excellent fuckability… all-encompassingly womanly?!

holy mother of god.

i would recommend divorce for all of us, if i could guarantee that you’d get that, just for a minute…. (otherwise, not at all. i don’t recommend it at all).

 

on the note of ‘non-recommendation’, i am going to check out. i just had a kid come home sick with vague complaints… since when do school nurses buy into vague complaints? sheesh.  and when she called, she used my maiden name, which thrilled me.

like ice cold thrill.

 

ooh. might be more there.

love to you guys,

K

 

 

Humanity

Shopping, issues.

‘Tis the season, right? I confess to having a serious, quasi-serious, problem here. I blame my grandmother and my mother-in-law for my sticky fingers when it comes to deals.  and this time of year, when deals are flashing at me from every techie corner? I’ve got some issues.

1126181328fParticularly as I’ve had to use my credit card again for the car AND for the ceiling.

i don’t know how you feel about credit cards (obviously, i mean, i don’t even know how you feel about shoes, or writing, or politics!, for goodness sakes)… but i haven’t used mine for over 3 years.  I’ve got an amount on it, from when i was a landlord with my ex, and all the house expenses went on it… but i’ve been paying it down, more than the monthly, every month. no worries.

but now?

the seal is broken.

or, that’s how it feels… like some portal in one of my many sci-fi books, movies, shows… some swirling portal of LURK exists now.  the DOOM LURK…

and of course, coincidentally, my eyes are swelling to monumental SIZE… the DEALS.. the DEALS… all anyone has to do is hint at discounts and i’m literally salivating. add to this, i’m still on the quit-smoking wagon, have (evidently) gained a tremendous  amount of weight and need all sorts of new things to make myself feel better.  because.

SO FAR, i have maintained.  the kids have gotten clothing, not gadgets. the birthday that comes 10 days before the blessed Child’s birth is covered… and has been covered since the summer, because that kid has obsessions, so its easy. this time around? manatees.

easy.

Its hard, when i want to buy presents for everyone, and am trying to space out expenditures, and don’t like to be conscripted by a ‘budget’… (you smart people who handle money well are freaking laughing and rolling on the floor, i know) …I recognize how gross the season is, gluttony wise…  I’m not sure how to move forward, really, except to resist.

resist with all that my little heart can muster.

i’ve unsubscribed to some store’s emails, so that i no longer see the deals.  i have been limiting some of my social media time because there are surprising numbers of attractive ads in there, and i love to explore new colors! fabrics! oooooh!  squirrel!

but i spent a whole lot of time resisting in my marriage, because things were so out of control.  and i resent the resistance. so my only real strategy is just not to be scrolling so often. just eyes on the ground, that kind of thing.  AND , i give myself permission to go to Salvation Army any time I want. because. recycling. its good for the planet.

thats all i’m saying. i’m a force for good in the world.  because.

 

sigh.

Humanity

Beauty and the COLOR.

I have a bunch of weirdness to me.  awkwardness. self-consciousness. unconsciousness. subconsciousness.

when i’m asked to think about beauty as it relates to my own body and how i move through the more social world (other, actual people involved) … I have a couple of distinct approaches to my own ‘style’ as it were.

and i’m not entirely sure that it’ll resonate with anyone, but i really hope it does… because it would be good to know that my quirk has company…

so here we go: i introduce parts of me, as they relate to physical presentation to the world, beauty-like…

  1.  baglady.  lots of layers. colors, prints, skater pants have been replaced by leggings in my middle-age, warm wool hat and glasses…lollipop body, really…bulk…always glasses… today i got my trifocals … no joke. 1022181439

ITs not that pretty, its not sexy, there is no way that anyone looking at me is thinking… ooooh, i wanna tap that.

and probably, they are a little confused.  Today at Home Depot, there was a lot of confusion. my purple socks followed by my blue vans and my black leggings. . . i mean, even for me, it was a fuckit day, fashion wise, but i was warm and comfy and really, all the rest of it can fly to flypaper.

so there’s that.

2.  then there’s an undercurrent of great great awareness of curve.  man, how i love my body.  and i want to touch it in front of people.  (i do… but really, fully guffaw)… and i’m filled all up with the sexiness. like burbling over with delight and hormone.  i tell you, the pheremones are real, when i’m in this space, i can feel every man for miles sniffing the air.

0916180746

3. Thirdly, but not lastly because there is always so much more.

Here we have the me that is still trying and failing to fit in. To look like the other soccer moms, to wear the bad jeans, to have brushed hair, maybe makeup… there is such an active part of me that wants to blend in… be invisible, i think.   Maybe if i hide like that, I will appear more successful somehow, and yes, i deeply see the irony, but it is nonetheless true to me, this dichotomy.

and guess what? there is no photo to show, no ‘invisibility’ to share.

because not even I can break that invisibility.  so here i am, visible.  and thats it, i think i’m done with the vanity…expunged. and now i go back into my cave and wait til spring.

0906180758 maybe i’m a bear.