Humanity

what’d you do today, freelancer?

I don’t have any work to do today. I mean, I’ve got two jobs that are on hold, or i’m awaiting a response to the last message, etc. So I really have nothing to do.  I’ve moved the sofa. I’ve got a wing chair in the middle of the kitchen now. I’ve measured something. I’ve danced. I took a bath. I’m clean and I watched a zombie show. I am keeping the chickens locked up today because there is a fox, and he has been fed twice in the past two days and hella, stop.

This:

Last night I got a text message from a mom whose kid is/was a friend of my teenager.  sometime in august some shit went down and she just heard about it now and was texting me to essentially find out about it, complain and judge me and my job as a parent.

let me be clear: my kid was part of something mean and unkind to her kid. my kid was mean and unkind.

full stop.

but I don’t really take kindly to the notion that I then get a lecture on parenting from another parent. As if my 14 year old kid is not responsible for his decisions.  Because I was upset at the text series, I looked again through his phone, talked with him about the incident yet again and when I told him that the boy’s feelings had been significantly hurt, he had remorse, again, as he should have.

AND YET, it is still not my responsibility to control his first actions.  I’ve given him a model, and earlier on, explicit directions on how to treat people.  And he made a mistake.

I do feel sorry for it, and sorry for her kid, because it sucks to be in high school sometimes. it really does. and he got hit with flung shit (not literally).

But the patronizing, and the moralizing, and the judgement that I got?  I fling that shit back and out. No.

BUT because I avoid conflict, even within myself, the anger splurted out at my kids last night.

(yelling)
“SHUT UP. I LOVE YOU BUT PLEASE SHUT UP.”

lots of fun at bedtime. guilt. anger. guilt. anger.

so I leave you with this:

a new pink sofa. free, by the side of the road, with a twin. small enough to haul around the house on a freelancing kind of day.

0916191208

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Humanity

Re-arriving

I’m slowly coming back into the world.  I’m working each day and making absurd money in small bits of time. Its not enough bits yet, but this morning I made $100 in twenty minutes. So that math? You dig? shoot. And i’m not even a hooker.

I’m coming back into my intellect, with a little removal from the hectic of childcare and whatnots.  I’m listening to a workshop that a woman named Alison Armstrong gave, on Audible. Its the first time I’ve spent so much time listening to something. Her website is called UnderstandMen, which cracks me the hell up.   I have the fancy earphones which STRONGLY resemble earmuffs, so I walk around in my slippers on purpose so I can feel like some kind of Nordic Lodge Bunny. (that’s a thing, right?)

I’ve even felt my spirit stirring, as I tend my home in the tiniest of ways, here and there, attending to space in a seasonal transition.  Tending, without rush, with a feeling of satisfaction at tiny change upon tiny change. And there is the light here. And I have a new painting on the wall that Jessica Kinsella painted, and its astonishing. I’ll try and photo it when the light is right. Maybe I’ll get it in here.

Today is my sister’s birthday. It is a fantastic day to be alive, all the more so because of a day we all remember for something else.  It is a fantastic day to be alive.

 

Thank you, Shannon.

My heart is trying its damnedest to stir to full beat. My intellect and fear-based life experiences are getting in my way. But I’m trying to understand myself, and be gracious to myself, at least, more often than not. and, LM seems to be a very patient man. I’m trying so hard to allow myself to have faith in another person. Its way trickier than I thought it would be.

Jessica Kinsella painting, detail. Unwifedmotherexpletive
my photo does not do it justice. It glows. It is illuminated in color.

 

Humanity

school is in session.

whoo. school started four days ago. i’ve had a much harder time with it than expected. all the self-doubt and shifting identity landed at once with the introduction of so much time. I work, but barely scrape enough to make up for the change in alimony that happened a year ago.  The farmstand parttime has helped a bunch too. it is good, i guess, as i’m still able to afford stuff, and pay for the new health insurance payment that i’ve got. kids get state aid but none for me, as alimony counts as income.  money means house security and all that. and with the kids gone it all settles in and i’d be better off alone as i’m in this space of lack and fear about my own inability to earn enough money to be independent. well, it sure doesn’t help that i’m in a house too big for my britches and i’m deeply in love with it.

all that is really fucking boring for me too, believe that. like, hellaciously so.

I’ve got cold toes today, the first authentically chilly morning of the season. and its thrilling, and my heart hurts with all the things my inner critic is saying about my ability to take care of things.

and there is this:

all the sages say:  focus on what is. be present, mindful of reality vs expectation or judgement.

shit man. if i’m living minute to minute, how do i assess plans for the future? how do i make plans at all?

i’m a 9 enneagram. you know what that is? it means i’m predisposed to avoid conflict and sometimes i get so lost in all the possible perspectives on an issue that i don’t know what my own opinion, need or want is. that makes me sometimes unknowable, i think.

so, cold. unknowable.

welcome to it, biotches.

hee hee. – uwmf

Hot Peppers School is in Session UnwifedMotherexpletive

Humanity

current mood: crackhead

Sitting in the Car- UnwifedMotherExpletivei’m sitting in my living room currently with three kids around me, all plugged into various screens, even the six year old. and i am typing, while watching Airplane.  I had them all in it with me, for about six minutes.

There are 100 things i love about this movie.

and i’m sitting on the dog’s bed*, so he is lying next to me licking my foot until i scream and get the hell out of his space.

*dog’s bed being a completely original way of saying beanbag chair, intended for humans.

God Bless Kareem Abdul-Jabar. I mean, Roger Murdock.

and then, Ethel Merman.

I’m smitten with the casual cruelty and egalitarian roasting. no one is safe. and yet, it manages to not be aggressive. how does it do that? and, if i weren’t a white girl from the country, would i still think this? i mean, its certainly offensive. but is it?

part of what made me write today was a thought that flashed through my brain while watching Elaine dance to Staying Alive. ‘I wish i was taller’.

Ok now. So, I am 45 years old. My last growth spurt was a while ago. I don’t need to be anything other than I am. ever. right?

As part of the crackhead mood i”ve been in for the past week, I’ve lost all my ground. And, a lovely friend (@hannahmarcotti) said it today, in terms of my doubt, that doubt is really an inability to be present.

and its doubt that is making me lose my ground. doubt in my own instincts, not knowing the difference between fears based on baggage and fears based on intuition, just the wild uncertainty of everything.

Gobacken Sidonna.

I’m laughing out loud, all by myself because a spear just hit a map in the background. thank you very much.

I love the utter ridiculousness of it.

and i’m whacked. doubting myself like crazy pants, and knowing that intuition is a tough one for me, and i relate it to my belief systems in marriage. . .  and i’ve got to figure out what i’m going to do with all my baggage, because i’d like to walk with a slightly lighter step.

and when one decides to look directly at a problem like this: what does it look like?

I’m going to start with some byron katie work.  I’m familiar with this process as i’ve been through it with Chakra Carol in years past.

its a thought re-conditioning sort of thing. i’m taking the kids to the Cape on Monday and I’m going to force myself to get up early and write in the mornings, and i’m dealing with this shit like throwing bricks. obvious and hard.

i am pretty damn sure its just a step in the road, but fuck it.

love you.

-uwmf

 

 

 

Humanity

Two Distinct Ideas. glommed together.

  1. I’ve been having bad dreams lately. the kind where you wake up and shake your head and feel anxious in your heart and go back to sleep and end up in exactly the same place.
    dream one: having an old argument with an old argue-partner, in which i am reminded how easy it is to gaslight me, which has many layers in it. his completely unacceptable behaviors were justified to me, and I struggled (again) to absorb the justifications as valid.
    dream two: really big house party (mine) in which there are long and lithe people in black and white and beauty and dancing and a gorgeous house that i really would love…and I don’t know anyone and I’m waiting for someone to arrive that i can talk to. the only person who does is an old lover that I’m embarrassed to explain this all to. I spend the dream avoiding and seeking his presence.  and feeling really isolated whilst surrounded by people. I do dance though.

There is a full moon, i am full of premenstrual hormonal shift. I never, ever, remember dreams. I have a new love who is challenging me in many core ways and I am fighting HARD the notion that I can rely on someone else.  HARD.  if i rely on someone again, i will be crushed and therein lose my ability to do this all by myself like i am.  I’m the only thing that is permanent here.

this is fairly distressing to type as well as to feel.

2. The kitchen is a goddamned mess. I need the kids to be back in school.  There is too much screen time and I’m missing them while they are having such fun times with their dad.  It is too much sometimes, and I”m overloaded by the disparities between the two and my rational brain really does argue for my value but ouch, sometimes. guess what? i do not own a boat or have the ‘best’, or buy my kids ipads because they win a dare.  i just can’t. and so i feel like a loser sometimes and right now the kitchen just feels too big to even tackle. i’ll do one corner of it today before all pandemonium of my work shift/drive kid to babysitting grandmother sets in. probably. or maybe i’ll just cry in the corner. hello moon. and hormones, hello.

aren’t you glad you stopped in?  hee hee. ugh.

and so, a brilliantly beautiful photo to round it out:

Carrots in a Yellow Bin UnwifedMotherExpletive