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.

 

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Humanity

Holiday, handwriting…

Today one of my jobs is paying me to do all the company holiday cards.  they are red and green and lovely, but with lots of gold and seasonally Northern Hemisphere holiday animals, think otters, polar bears, orca, swan.  they are really lovely, really. and i’m getting my groove on in penmanship. all i’m doing is addressing and signing, really, and its still so lovely.  my kids haven’t been taught cursive writing in school and its a sadness for me, though they are learning signatures from their dad and I , they’ll never know the great satisfaction of a loop. One of the names I just had to write was Mazzella. Now, thats a name to bring fantastic satisfaction to a hand-writer.  OOh, man, double z’s and double l’s?

1211181035i love the back and forth, the curve and return of an ‘c’, the curve and return… ah, metaphors, you never fail me.

sigh.

we have heat today, all the kids are in school, at least, at this moment.  I’m finally able to look at some of the work I should have been doing during plumbing issues and pinkeye. there’s a healthy amount.

and in the background, i am trying to figure out larger meanings… i look chill but the number of health/stress connections is sad… and… the number of large ticket items that i’ve bumped into around my car and the house and such are pretty substantial.  what does it mean? what do I THINK it means? Am I believing I need to sell this house? that THAT is the practical step forward? And then I look around and fall in love again… Am I grounding down to settle in for a winter with a house that is all fixed up and safe for me and my kids?  AM i learning that money is just something I need to stop thinking about, because things are managed somehow?  (i live in a fairly frugal way, most of the time, so thats my baseline) but with family and a single credit card and alimony and child support and a wee bit of job money, i have swung this season of giant expense, and christmas is not even here yet, but i have decided already that whatever i have at this point right now, is what will be.  thats it. no more.

thats cool, thats right. the kids have more than enough. no one will be crying on christmas. and if they do, that is not a problem of mine.

and what about love? Am i finding that I am ready to begin looking for something more than sex? Don’t fucking tell anybody, but its a glimmer right now. just a fleck of light really.

I was just glancingly invited to my kids birthday party last weekend.  i had asked, but gotten no response.  my unbelievably crafty birthday boy begged me by phone to come, in front of his dad.  his dad was essentially forced into a ‘if you love me, mom has to come’ situation.   I was able to swoop into the place, see the set up, get the big hugs and the laughs and swoop out all with my emotions completely intact.

seriously, it was no big thing.

i can’t even believe it was me that typed that.  So much has changed with time. SO much.

swoop. and loop.

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arms raised to the magnificence.

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. . .

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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

UNFUCKINGBELIEVABLE

I’ve had sort of a capslocky few weeks, i think.  all within the realm of regular first-world disaster type things… car breaks down by the side of the road, yearly grief over the loss of my father, several strangers online asking me for money making me feel like a chump, my aunt making fun of my weight, a pipe bursting the day before i host thirty of my favorite extended family (including that aunt… giving her the perfect opportunity to see me for the first time in a year and ask me if i like donuts too much …) ceilings dripping with fierce abandon… as a general rule, if not in a horror movie or in a swamp plantation, the ceiling is not meant to drip. just saying.

i fed thirty people. my vegetarian lasagna was not terrible. the soup was called delicious. natasha’s kitchen by the way…sweet potato and coconut milk… i made mine bacon free, with veggie stock… the vegetarian i thought i had –is a devoted meat eater. so we all had more veggies than normal, and we’re all okay.

and then we had desserts…

it is a rough potluck, so i’m not saying i made all the food. AT ALL.

my 73 year old mother made a lasagna that got raves and put a ham on the table… my sister made a gigantic kale/brussel/apple salad that kicked some ass.  there was another salad..(from she who currently is not to be named) and turnip, cheese, rolls and pie and pie and pie and chocolate things…

we are fed. we are grateful.

my stress level did include a whole lot of third-personing, but i’ve stopped now.

and i never even had a cigarette. that whole time.  but i do admit, it is rising to mythological, how much I want to… angels, choirs… athena, diana… didn’t they catch a quick smoke just fine?  … all that… i think i might end up tippling zeus on the porch…. as a substitute…

sigh .  i’m fine.  but i’m tired of character building.

 

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the soup would have really made the composition here ‘pop’ but alas… it was in the kitchen, with all the bowls and a huge slop of spoons… 

its that song… spun on high speed… ‘we are joyful, we are joyful’… super highspeed.

thats my inner world as the whole house vibrates with the industrial sized dryer that is pointed at the ceiling in the other room.

 

so be it.

resistance is futile.

 

(my aunt is just that way. i love her anyhow.  i’m still going to eat donuts.  my curves are rubenesque and the men just love them.)