Sorry for double posting, but I have to share with you what I got in the mail today. A box with two adorable winter outfits for Owen from Gymboree, and some New Balance shoes for him (which I thought ironic given the subject of my last two emails to both April and Liz about that very company!), plus some really, really nice jewelry. Including a beautiful ring, delicate and feminine, that says "mommy," which I am already wearing and hoping that she didn't include it by accident, it is that pretty. I am wearing it on the finger I wore a wedding band on in a different life, and I imagine that it is the closest I am ever going to come to having a ring on that finger.
Anyway, thank you, FreedomFirst. This woman was one of my friends on the online community I got forced out of for being a loudmouth bitch (I know, that is really quite surprising, isn't it?), and when I git the boot, she was still my friend. We have exchanged emails, and she reads my blog and we keep up-and even though we don't always agree about politics OR religion, I consider her a good friend, and I think she does me. This gift came at a perfect time, when I just very much needed something sweet and kind to make me smile.
Wally Lamb, who is one of my favorite authors, wrote in She's Come Undone, "Accept what people offer. Drink their milkshakes. Take their love." My best-friend-even-though-she-doesn't-know-it, Anne Lamott, said something along the lines of needing God with skin on, and when she prays that, she always runs into or meets up with someone who is serving God through their selves, even if they don't know it. And this is what this gift means to me-that everyone in my life is reaching out to give me their love, be it through the mail or email or phone calls, or comments on the blog. That instead of questioning and wondering why people like me so much, I should just say an enormous, heartfelt thank you and accept it.
Friday, August 15, 2008
The End of My Rope-Complete with Breaking News
I am at the end of my rope today, I truly am. And I don't know what to do about it, so what do I do? I blog. Which doesn't solve anything, it doesn't CHANGE anything, but somehow it helps to be able to talk about my life with people. To put it all down on paper (so to speak), which helps me mentally process things. It doesn't always result in a viable solution, it isn't the answer to any problems, but it does help.
So this is why I am at the end of my rope today. I had my first threatening phone call early this morning, from who I can only assume is CSG. I was, for a change, sleeping deeply and well, and the phone rang at 2:30. I keep the phone right by my head, on the arm of the couch, so it woke me up immediately. The Caller ID said "Private," but I answered it because Hannah and Eli's dad's number also comes up as Private, and I was worried that something might have happened that his dad needed to reach me; we all know that middle-of-the-night phone calls are never a good thing, right?
It wasn't his dad. Instead, it was man who asked, "Is this Eli's mom?" Still befuddled and frightened, I said yes-thinking that perhaps something terrible had happened and it was someone from a hospital or police station-and then this man said, "You are going down." It sounds innocuous here, doesn't it? But it wasn't. It isn't. Instead, it just adds to my already existing terror. Hannah woke up when she heard me asking, "Who IS this?" and when I very vehemently said, "I am reporting this call to the police," but I lied to her; I said, "Oh, I think it was one of Eli's friends playing a prank." I didn't want her to lay awake the rest of the night and worry-I am perfectly capable of doing that myself, thank you very much. And it is possible that it was one of Eli's friends-you know, if one of the suddenly had a very dramatic voice change over the summer. I think I would recognize his friends' voices, though, even taking into account puberty. No, what it felt like is a warning; "yeah, bitch, not only do I know where you live but I know your kids' names, too."
I have left a message with the detective, and am waiting for him to call me back; the cynical part of me says (and knows) that I will have to fill out a police report, make a log of any other strange phone calls etc...but basically, there isn't anything they can really do. So we will still have to wait, to wonder. In the meantime, while we are waiting and wondering, I am too afraid to even let the kids play in the backyard anymore because it is right next to the alley. They have to go out and dump the garbage as a team, and the back part hasn't been mowed since we got back from vacation because I don't want ANY of us out there that long, day or night. I am still sleeping on the couch because for some reason, I am too afraid to actually pull the bed out. The kids are finally sleeping in a bedroom-all three who are home right now in one bed-but we have to leave both the hall light and the kitchen light on, and still we don't feel safe.
I want to move. I want to pack up and find another house, one where the threat might still exist but where at least we would feel safer. This isn't an option (see my many, many posts about this issue!), but it is what I want to do. If I had my way, I would pack up in the middle of the night and just disappear, which is of course not a reasonable thing to do, either. I just don't know what to do anymore, and I am just-I am tired. I will update this after the detective calls back to let you know what kind of drivel he comes up with.
****Update: Apparently our detective is off today. They sent some fucking screwball Keystone Cop to my house-despite the fact that I told the dispatcher to please have him come to my office (which, incidentally, is right across the motherfucking street) because I DID NOT WANT MY KIDS TO KNOW. and you know what HE said? I have to call the phone company and try to get the number. Even though THEY are the ones supposedly investigating this, I have to try to call the company. Which I just did, only to be told that due to Privacy issues, they are unable to provide me with a phone number because if it is marked "Private" it is Unlisted and Unpublished at the Customer Request. Which I knew, but since I am apparently supposed to be doing the job of the police department, I had to try it. Then, this fat fucker did not even know ANYTHING about what has been going on. Nothing. So I got mad and said that maybe the department should get it together so that ALL the officers at least have a general idea what is going on, because I am really getting tired of having to go through the whole story with a new officer every time something happens. He said the condescending, "Now, ma'am, you need to calm down, we really need to have some leads before we can DO anything..." and had I been able to, I might have reached over the desk, grabbed his gun and shot him in the head with it. Not only am I pissed, I feel like it doesn't do any fucking good to even call and report anything anymore.***
So this is why I am at the end of my rope today. I had my first threatening phone call early this morning, from who I can only assume is CSG. I was, for a change, sleeping deeply and well, and the phone rang at 2:30. I keep the phone right by my head, on the arm of the couch, so it woke me up immediately. The Caller ID said "Private," but I answered it because Hannah and Eli's dad's number also comes up as Private, and I was worried that something might have happened that his dad needed to reach me; we all know that middle-of-the-night phone calls are never a good thing, right?
It wasn't his dad. Instead, it was man who asked, "Is this Eli's mom?" Still befuddled and frightened, I said yes-thinking that perhaps something terrible had happened and it was someone from a hospital or police station-and then this man said, "You are going down." It sounds innocuous here, doesn't it? But it wasn't. It isn't. Instead, it just adds to my already existing terror. Hannah woke up when she heard me asking, "Who IS this?" and when I very vehemently said, "I am reporting this call to the police," but I lied to her; I said, "Oh, I think it was one of Eli's friends playing a prank." I didn't want her to lay awake the rest of the night and worry-I am perfectly capable of doing that myself, thank you very much. And it is possible that it was one of Eli's friends-you know, if one of the suddenly had a very dramatic voice change over the summer. I think I would recognize his friends' voices, though, even taking into account puberty. No, what it felt like is a warning; "yeah, bitch, not only do I know where you live but I know your kids' names, too."
I have left a message with the detective, and am waiting for him to call me back; the cynical part of me says (and knows) that I will have to fill out a police report, make a log of any other strange phone calls etc...but basically, there isn't anything they can really do. So we will still have to wait, to wonder. In the meantime, while we are waiting and wondering, I am too afraid to even let the kids play in the backyard anymore because it is right next to the alley. They have to go out and dump the garbage as a team, and the back part hasn't been mowed since we got back from vacation because I don't want ANY of us out there that long, day or night. I am still sleeping on the couch because for some reason, I am too afraid to actually pull the bed out. The kids are finally sleeping in a bedroom-all three who are home right now in one bed-but we have to leave both the hall light and the kitchen light on, and still we don't feel safe.
I want to move. I want to pack up and find another house, one where the threat might still exist but where at least we would feel safer. This isn't an option (see my many, many posts about this issue!), but it is what I want to do. If I had my way, I would pack up in the middle of the night and just disappear, which is of course not a reasonable thing to do, either. I just don't know what to do anymore, and I am just-I am tired. I will update this after the detective calls back to let you know what kind of drivel he comes up with.
****Update: Apparently our detective is off today. They sent some fucking screwball Keystone Cop to my house-despite the fact that I told the dispatcher to please have him come to my office (which, incidentally, is right across the motherfucking street) because I DID NOT WANT MY KIDS TO KNOW. and you know what HE said? I have to call the phone company and try to get the number. Even though THEY are the ones supposedly investigating this, I have to try to call the company. Which I just did, only to be told that due to Privacy issues, they are unable to provide me with a phone number because if it is marked "Private" it is Unlisted and Unpublished at the Customer Request. Which I knew, but since I am apparently supposed to be doing the job of the police department, I had to try it. Then, this fat fucker did not even know ANYTHING about what has been going on. Nothing. So I got mad and said that maybe the department should get it together so that ALL the officers at least have a general idea what is going on, because I am really getting tired of having to go through the whole story with a new officer every time something happens. He said the condescending, "Now, ma'am, you need to calm down, we really need to have some leads before we can DO anything..." and had I been able to, I might have reached over the desk, grabbed his gun and shot him in the head with it. Not only am I pissed, I feel like it doesn't do any fucking good to even call and report anything anymore.***
Thursday, August 14, 2008
NOT Because....
WTF? I was just sitting here at my desk, you know, working? Hard? And I just happened to check my reader to see if any of you slackers had written anything new today (but clearly you are all just as busily working as I should be). And what do I see under the "Top Recommendations" but MY Blog. Mine. The one with my name on it. I don't know how this happens, if it is just a randomly generated list that comes up based on the other sites I read, but hot damn. That is pretty cool. Plus I clicked on the details thing and it shows I have 24 subscribers. Which is also pretty cool. Thanks, guys, for being such faithful readers! This is almost as good as bling. Which is a word that STILL makes me laugh.
April was blogging this morning about the small things, the things we have to be happy about in order to stave off depression, and hey, this would be one for me. That 24 people I didn't know before are reading my stuff. That 24 people in places all over the world have my blog in their reader. That maybe, just maybe, I might make a difference in 24 people's live, no matter how small a difference that might be.
Another small thing is that school starts in 11 days; this makes me happy not because the kids will stop fighting 24/7 and instead only fight 16/7 because they will be away from each other the other 8 hours. Not because I will have my lunch hour all to myself again every day. Not because it is a whole brand new year with limitless possibilities. No, none of that-but because I get to buy school supplies. I love school supplies-the smell (and taste, but don't ask) of paste and new pencils, the way the fresh loose-leaf paper looks in a brand new plastic-smelling binder, the way ball-point ink looks on said fresh paper. The pointy ends of new crayons, the smell of freshly-sharpened pencils...aah, ambrosia. Nothing screams "geek" quite so loudly or as lovely as pocket protectors and calculators...yeah, I love school supplies.
Small things indeed, but I got three letters this week, three LONG, wonderful, newsy letters as well as a card that simply says "I don't tell you often enough how grateful I am that we are friends. I love you, and I believe in you." So not only do I get to get up on Saturday morning and drink my coffee and re-read thoroughly these wonderful letters, but I also get to carve some time (I sincerely hope!) out in which to get out the good paper and pen and write back. There is little I would rather spend my time on than this; for me, writing letters to people I love is therapy, much like journaling and, now, blogging.
I get my boy Eli back on Saturday; he has been with his dad (he and Hannah no longer visit at the same time, due to the fighting I mentioned above) for two weeks, and I will be glad to have him back. Not because I have missed him, or feel better when all of the kids are around, or any of that sentimental shit, but because Owen has missed him so terribly that it is killing me. NOT because I am at all tenderhearted or really give a rip but because when he gets chastised, hurts himself, or doesn't want to go to bed, he very pathetically cries, "Eli, Eli..." and tears roll down his fat little cheeks. Perhaps with Eli home, we will all rest easier AND I can cook dinner in relative peace.
Yeah, it is the small things, and I will take them where I can get them.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Some Bling (a word that makes me laugh out loud)
Do you guys see that award up there? Yeah. nice, isn't it? I have been coveting it-I really have. Partly because I like to have a little profanity every now and again, but mostly because it means that someone likes me. The person who bestowed this honor on me is one of my favorites, and has been from very nearly the beginning. You know, the kind of person who is fucking amazing and also a little intimidating and the one whose blogroll you frequently check to see if you have made it up there yet, because then it means you have "arrived?" Yeah. That one. So a heartfelt thank you goes out to Tara over at If Mom Says Okay. I love this blog; I love this woman.
I read and like so many blogs that I assumed it would be easy to pick five to give this to, but I am finding it much more difficult than I thought. However, there were three that immediately popped into my head, so here goes.
1. If you guys have not yet been there, please check out XBox4NappyRash. He is one of the first blogs I started reading, partly because he has cartoon sperm on his page-THAT is cool, no doubt. He and his wife are struggling with infertility, and he has written about the trials and problems and processes with a self-deprecating humor that is...well. Here is a choice example of his writing:
"Now, let me take a minute to gash my wrists and grab the salt shaker. I've insanely and inanely rambled on before about how I believe we are being mocked by nature. Well, these little froggy horny green bastards were not satisfied in deafening us with their incessant copulation and production of masses of frog spawn, but now it seems that they are playing happy families too."
2. Ian over at Single Parent Dad is my next recipient. I actually haven't been reading him long, just a few months, but I really like him. I like the fact that he is just like the rest of us single moms, only without breasts. I hope. The circumstances behind his single parenthood are different, but the feelings are similar, and sometimes underneath the matter of fact tone, I can almost hear confusion and pain-and again, humor. I don't wish PAIN on anyone, but I love that there are so many of us who are just getting through it all one day at a time, and sharing these different little tidbits of our lives with one another, and muddling through as best as we can. Also, the fact that there is joy and beauty and comfort in the midst of it all-that is pretty powerful stuff.
3. yeah, totally...right? Sully Sullivan is probably the funniest blogger out there. If you are looking for the same kind of sensitive-yet-manly content that you will find in the above two, DON'T go here. This man is capable of being vulnerable and insecure, which I love in a guy-but I have only seen one post indicating this, and he deleted it almost immediately. Which for some reason made the rest of his blog even funnier. He rant and raves some, which I also love, and has these really great links to time-wasting sites, does some funny polls, and basically gives me a good belly laugh every time he posts. He does not have any awards on his site as of yet, but I suspect he just doesn't put them up-and that is okay with me, because he is STILL a Kick Ass Blogger whether he has the button up or not.
This is where it gets a little dicey for me, because there are so many great ones out there, and so many of the people I love to read have already gotten this one. Therefore, I am going to break the rules just a smidgen and post the other two next week. For you three manly men above, you are now supposed to go pick up your award here, and make your choices. Congrats to all of you-you have added something huge to my life, and I thank you.
I have also updated my blogroll; check it out, there are a few new faves on there. And if you aren't on there and think you should be, let me know. I sometimes forget.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Crime Update
I have some really great bling that I received from two different awesome bloggers, and I said I was going to post them today but I am not. The bloggers who gave me the awards are too great to just do a cursory post on, as are the people to whom I want to pass on the award. So now all I can say is, "This week, I promise." Which is actually a little odd for me, as I have been coveting one in particular...but I just don't have "it" today, whatever "it" is.
I found out some information about the murder the occurred here last week, information which is extremely disturbing on a variety of levels. I heard this from a very reliable "source," too, as in from a friend of the victim, so I think this is pretty accurate. Do you guys want to know what the connection was? None. Absolutely none. Neither the husband nor his young wife knew this guy, nor does the wife remember ever having SEEN him before. After the guy had taken her husband out of commission and while he was attempting to rape her, the young wife cried out, "Why are you doing this?" And his reply? "No reason, I just felt like killing someone." She managed to get to the phone somehow, though no one at this point knows how, or if he had already taken off when she called; it all happened relatively quickly.
In light of our experience with CSG, I cannot help but let my thoughts flutter around the idea that the two are one and the same. This is something I have studiously avoided contemplating, shoving those fleeting thoughts away as quickly as they float to the surface; it seems pointless and counterproductive, because then I freak out. I have four kids who believe wholeheartedly that I can keep them safe-freaking out is not an option for me.
Still, in the dark of the night, the thoughts come and I can't succeed in keeping them at bay. It seems worse now, because there are some similarities that seem too close to be ignored. I think I blogged briefly about this, but tried to pass it off as something I wasn't really concerned about-I was lying out my ass, because yeah-there are some fucking insane similarities. Description of the guy? Remarkably similar, including height, weight, facial hair, clothing, and race. Basic MO? Also the same. They are calling our situation with CSG an "Interrupted Home Invasion," and the murder was also a Home Invasion. There are-I don't know. I just don't know.
I would love to be able to say that my rational mind says that it couldn't be the same guy. That it is all just some freaky coincidence. That surely he would not kill someone in the wee hours of Sunday morning and then find time to come to my house and steal my dogs and go through my mailbox. That it would stand to reason that if it WAS the same guy, he would not have run away from our house, but would have stayed there and killed us all. But then again I think of things like this: that the element of surprise was on our side that night, because he was expecting to walk into a sleeping house and instead my daughter turned into Xena and came rushing in-surely that was not expected. I think of things like with the young couple-they were both asleep and he incapacitated the husband, leaving his wife with no real defense. What if he had the same plans for my kid? My daughter? To get me and the baby out of the way before moving on to the next victim? Or perhaps I WAS the victim and had Hannah not intervened, they would have walked into the house in the morning to find me dead.
And this is where it gets really, really fucked up. I know that it is irrelevant now, and that we should just be grateful that for whatever reasons, CSG is laying low at the moment. We have done all we can do regarding beefed up security, including THE greatest motion lights known to man-they are very nearly blinding, lighting up the entire back yard from the wall to the alley, and in the front they illuminate not just MY porch and yard, but part of the neighbor's as well. I love my lights. My lights are almost orgasm-causing. No one has complained yet, but if they do, I am going to tell them to bite my ass-because if perhaps one neighbor had bothered to venture outside while my daughter was screaming, maybe we wouldn't need the lights.
So I haven't been sleeping well, all things considered, and I just want it to be over. I have my days where I don't even really think about it much, there have been nights where we all sleep well and have no problems, and it is getting better daily. Especially for the kids, who will NOT be told this new information about the murder. For me, I think so much of my own fears have to do with the fact that it is something I have no control over-something totally random, something that couldn't have been prevented with prior knowledge. Someone once said something about how it sounded like I had feelings of guilt, and yeah, to that commenter, you are right. Of course there is a feeling of guilt, or rather was: I left the door unlocked. I let the kids sleep outside. I...but you know, I think about the murder victims, and I don't feel anything toward them other than deep sadness. No blame; they could have been sitting in the living room naked with all the lights on and the doors open performing oral sex on the neighbor's dog and they would still not be to blame. The cold hard reality is that random bad shit happens, and it is beyond our control. And it sucks, guys, it really sucks.
There is my rant for the day. It is daylight, of course, and totally easy to tell myself how ridiculous I am being for even considering that it was the same guy. It is different at night, and I just hope that I have more success at keeping the thoughts out of my head than I did last night.
As a funny aside, did any of you read my SPAM comment from a couple of posts ago? I don't know how old Marion Bishop got through the hoops to leave the comment, but I went ahead and published it because it totally made me laugh out loud. I visited the site she mentioned, and damn, am I tempted. Come on-wouldn't that be a SEXY look for me?
I found out some information about the murder the occurred here last week, information which is extremely disturbing on a variety of levels. I heard this from a very reliable "source," too, as in from a friend of the victim, so I think this is pretty accurate. Do you guys want to know what the connection was? None. Absolutely none. Neither the husband nor his young wife knew this guy, nor does the wife remember ever having SEEN him before. After the guy had taken her husband out of commission and while he was attempting to rape her, the young wife cried out, "Why are you doing this?" And his reply? "No reason, I just felt like killing someone." She managed to get to the phone somehow, though no one at this point knows how, or if he had already taken off when she called; it all happened relatively quickly.
In light of our experience with CSG, I cannot help but let my thoughts flutter around the idea that the two are one and the same. This is something I have studiously avoided contemplating, shoving those fleeting thoughts away as quickly as they float to the surface; it seems pointless and counterproductive, because then I freak out. I have four kids who believe wholeheartedly that I can keep them safe-freaking out is not an option for me.
Still, in the dark of the night, the thoughts come and I can't succeed in keeping them at bay. It seems worse now, because there are some similarities that seem too close to be ignored. I think I blogged briefly about this, but tried to pass it off as something I wasn't really concerned about-I was lying out my ass, because yeah-there are some fucking insane similarities. Description of the guy? Remarkably similar, including height, weight, facial hair, clothing, and race. Basic MO? Also the same. They are calling our situation with CSG an "Interrupted Home Invasion," and the murder was also a Home Invasion. There are-I don't know. I just don't know.
I would love to be able to say that my rational mind says that it couldn't be the same guy. That it is all just some freaky coincidence. That surely he would not kill someone in the wee hours of Sunday morning and then find time to come to my house and steal my dogs and go through my mailbox. That it would stand to reason that if it WAS the same guy, he would not have run away from our house, but would have stayed there and killed us all. But then again I think of things like this: that the element of surprise was on our side that night, because he was expecting to walk into a sleeping house and instead my daughter turned into Xena and came rushing in-surely that was not expected. I think of things like with the young couple-they were both asleep and he incapacitated the husband, leaving his wife with no real defense. What if he had the same plans for my kid? My daughter? To get me and the baby out of the way before moving on to the next victim? Or perhaps I WAS the victim and had Hannah not intervened, they would have walked into the house in the morning to find me dead.
And this is where it gets really, really fucked up. I know that it is irrelevant now, and that we should just be grateful that for whatever reasons, CSG is laying low at the moment. We have done all we can do regarding beefed up security, including THE greatest motion lights known to man-they are very nearly blinding, lighting up the entire back yard from the wall to the alley, and in the front they illuminate not just MY porch and yard, but part of the neighbor's as well. I love my lights. My lights are almost orgasm-causing. No one has complained yet, but if they do, I am going to tell them to bite my ass-because if perhaps one neighbor had bothered to venture outside while my daughter was screaming, maybe we wouldn't need the lights.
So I haven't been sleeping well, all things considered, and I just want it to be over. I have my days where I don't even really think about it much, there have been nights where we all sleep well and have no problems, and it is getting better daily. Especially for the kids, who will NOT be told this new information about the murder. For me, I think so much of my own fears have to do with the fact that it is something I have no control over-something totally random, something that couldn't have been prevented with prior knowledge. Someone once said something about how it sounded like I had feelings of guilt, and yeah, to that commenter, you are right. Of course there is a feeling of guilt, or rather was: I left the door unlocked. I let the kids sleep outside. I...but you know, I think about the murder victims, and I don't feel anything toward them other than deep sadness. No blame; they could have been sitting in the living room naked with all the lights on and the doors open performing oral sex on the neighbor's dog and they would still not be to blame. The cold hard reality is that random bad shit happens, and it is beyond our control. And it sucks, guys, it really sucks.
There is my rant for the day. It is daylight, of course, and totally easy to tell myself how ridiculous I am being for even considering that it was the same guy. It is different at night, and I just hope that I have more success at keeping the thoughts out of my head than I did last night.
As a funny aside, did any of you read my SPAM comment from a couple of posts ago? I don't know how old Marion Bishop got through the hoops to leave the comment, but I went ahead and published it because it totally made me laugh out loud. I visited the site she mentioned, and damn, am I tempted. Come on-wouldn't that be a SEXY look for me?
Monday, August 11, 2008
But I Can Dream...Can't I?
When I was home for lunch, the FedEx guy stopped at our house with the backpacks that C. ordered for the kids from L.L. Bean; they have been awaiting their arrival all last week, even though it was impossible for them to have arrived before today. They are wonderful, beautiful backpacks; Sam's is not only monogrammed but also has wheels that light up when rolled, and he was also the recipient of a really neat clip-on light set. Hannah and Eli both opted for plaid, one in pink and the other in brown, and they got a smaller knapsack to go along with. Like I said, they are beautiful, another extremely generous gift from C. Sam has been waiting anxiously to send his thank-you note (yes, I still insist that thank yous be not only spoken but written as well), and finished it for me to send off today. He does not normally warm up so immediately to people-he is a great performer and fakes it well, but few people earn his genuine love. C. and D. have clearly passed the test, as his card ends with, "I think you are the coolest people ever." It is so much fun to see my kids fall in love with people I love so much-we have been so blessed in that arena that I truly do not have the words to fully convey that. I just know that there are a lot of people who love my kids as much as they love me, and wherever they go, the kids have a safety net; that is a very, very powerful thing.
The arrival of the backpacks is just another reminder that school is to begin in two weeks. I can register both Hannah and Eli online (with hope, there will not need to be any schedule changes!), and this will be taken care of this week, and I think I register Sam on Thursday. Both H. and E. are in high school this year, and it is both exciting and scary for me to realize how quickly they are growing up. Physically, they have both towered over me for several years; I found out last night that Hannah is also almost as strong as me, and I know Eli could seriously kick my ass were he wont to do (let's hope he never reads my blog, or any shred of fear my threats might instill will be long gone). Even Sam, who still only hits 54 pounds after a full meal and with ALL his clothes on, is also very much taller this year than last. Such a damn cliche, but the time goes by too fast, and they grow so much, that the mind boggles.
I have to go to Boise to pick Eli up next Saturday; we dropped him off in Pendleton on our way home from vacation last weekend, and his dad is flying him back in to Boise. I think I am going to take the other three kids with me and get some school shopping done there. The mall there is really nice, and has a few stores the kids really like that we don't have in the town we normally have to go to. Also, even though we have had our vacation and all, it will be the last time we really get to just hang put and be together having fun before school starts. I mean, we are almost always TOGETHER-but when school starts, there are sports and homework and tutoring and all of the other things that make up the schedule-which leaves a lot less time to just be a family and remember that we do kind of like one another.
Ugh, though. The fact that both the older kids are going to be in high school is financially frightening. I shudder to think of what their fees are going to be, and since ALL of them have grown up so much, we are looking at everything new-from socks and undies on up. We did get a few things for the vacation that also doubled as Back-to-School clothes, so that helps. Still-jeans for all, new shoes for all, etc...sigh, I think that for me, one of the hardest parts of being a single parent is still the lack of money; no child support from either ex, and it gets really hard sometimes to make ends meet-especially when things like SCHOOL come up. Also, H. and E. will both be in Driver's Ed. during the school year, though at different times, and that-well. That creates a LOT of burdens, financially and otherwise!
But I am not going to stress about it too much today. There isn't anything I can do about it anyway, and we will get what we need, even if it is one outfit at a time for each. That is one thing I have learned, that we don't HAVE to buy the whole wardrobe right now, and the kids are usually pretty good about a new pair of jeans and a couple shirts to start, along with their shoes and socks and stuff. I know they want more, I know they want me to shop at the cool places, and I would like that as well-but we also know THAT can't be changed, so we deal.
I will complain here for just a minute, though. Yeah, I know we just got back from vacation; I know I also had four no-kid days back in April. But would you all think I am terribly selfish for wanting one ALONE night before school starts? I would love to head to a hotel ALONE and have total solitude, from lunch to dinner to bedtime to coffee and a book in the morning all by myself. Ah...I can dream, right?
The arrival of the backpacks is just another reminder that school is to begin in two weeks. I can register both Hannah and Eli online (with hope, there will not need to be any schedule changes!), and this will be taken care of this week, and I think I register Sam on Thursday. Both H. and E. are in high school this year, and it is both exciting and scary for me to realize how quickly they are growing up. Physically, they have both towered over me for several years; I found out last night that Hannah is also almost as strong as me, and I know Eli could seriously kick my ass were he wont to do (let's hope he never reads my blog, or any shred of fear my threats might instill will be long gone). Even Sam, who still only hits 54 pounds after a full meal and with ALL his clothes on, is also very much taller this year than last. Such a damn cliche, but the time goes by too fast, and they grow so much, that the mind boggles.
I have to go to Boise to pick Eli up next Saturday; we dropped him off in Pendleton on our way home from vacation last weekend, and his dad is flying him back in to Boise. I think I am going to take the other three kids with me and get some school shopping done there. The mall there is really nice, and has a few stores the kids really like that we don't have in the town we normally have to go to. Also, even though we have had our vacation and all, it will be the last time we really get to just hang put and be together having fun before school starts. I mean, we are almost always TOGETHER-but when school starts, there are sports and homework and tutoring and all of the other things that make up the schedule-which leaves a lot less time to just be a family and remember that we do kind of like one another.
Ugh, though. The fact that both the older kids are going to be in high school is financially frightening. I shudder to think of what their fees are going to be, and since ALL of them have grown up so much, we are looking at everything new-from socks and undies on up. We did get a few things for the vacation that also doubled as Back-to-School clothes, so that helps. Still-jeans for all, new shoes for all, etc...sigh, I think that for me, one of the hardest parts of being a single parent is still the lack of money; no child support from either ex, and it gets really hard sometimes to make ends meet-especially when things like SCHOOL come up. Also, H. and E. will both be in Driver's Ed. during the school year, though at different times, and that-well. That creates a LOT of burdens, financially and otherwise!
But I am not going to stress about it too much today. There isn't anything I can do about it anyway, and we will get what we need, even if it is one outfit at a time for each. That is one thing I have learned, that we don't HAVE to buy the whole wardrobe right now, and the kids are usually pretty good about a new pair of jeans and a couple shirts to start, along with their shoes and socks and stuff. I know they want more, I know they want me to shop at the cool places, and I would like that as well-but we also know THAT can't be changed, so we deal.
I will complain here for just a minute, though. Yeah, I know we just got back from vacation; I know I also had four no-kid days back in April. But would you all think I am terribly selfish for wanting one ALONE night before school starts? I would love to head to a hotel ALONE and have total solitude, from lunch to dinner to bedtime to coffee and a book in the morning all by myself. Ah...I can dream, right?
P.S. Thanks for the gifts, to those who gave them to me; I will be posting about them tomorrow!
Friday, August 8, 2008
Letter to Myself at 18
Thanks to Amanda over at Shamelessly Sassy for this idea! If you have a few minutes, go over and read her post from yesterday; it is kick ass!
Dear Kori,
Grab a cup of coffee (though I don't think you have started drinking it just yet-but you will, believe me!), find a comfy spot to sit, and make sure you won't be disturbed for a little while. I have some things I would like to tell you, it might take awhile.
I look at you now, thinking that you are so dumb and unattractive and worthless, and I want to hug you and tell you that it isn't true. You are none of the above, and I wish there was something I could do to make you believe it now. Your friends, mom, other people tell you it is true, but maybe it will mean more coming from your future self-I don't know. But while of course you have some weight issues (and you will always struggle, I hate to tell you), you are NOT the disgusting slob that you see in the mirror. Now granted, there IS more you could be doing-but you are not unlovable. You know that "family therapist" you and mom and Fat Phil are going to? Pretty soon the therapist is going to get tired of listening to the two of them argue and fight with you sitting in the middle, and she is going to see that maybe YOU can still be helped. You will start seeing her alone-listen to her. Let her help you. Get the chip off your shoulder and start realizing that while you may not be a total loser, you are still pretty fucked up. It is a start, sweetie.
Very soon, you are going to meet the person who will be your first boyfriend. You will meet him at a party where you discover the liberating feeling of being drunk and being the person you always wanted to be. You will lose your virginity to this young man, and you will also have imbibed 3/4 a bottle of champagne before doing so. You will also find that while sex isn't that great (don't blame him-he tried. It is supposed to hurt, dumbass!), alcohol IS, and so begins a pattern of men and alcohol that will fuel you through the next years.
You are going to meet four men who will change your life irrevocably. I won't tell you their names, because you have to be on the lookout for them on your own and make your own decisions. One of them will give you two lovely children, but you will only be married for 18 months or so, and you will not be married again until about 5 years later. It will be hard, raising two small children before you are even close to being raised yourself. If you get the idea out of your head that marriage is supposed to be easy, you two could maybe make it work out-I don't have the answer to this one.
Another of the men will give you a child that you won't be able to keep. You will fall for the gorgeous eyes and the sexy voice and the nice ass, but that is really all there is to him. Well, not true-he is very talented and smart and could do a lot of great things, but he lacks motivation and will never go any further than 60 miles from where he grew up. He will also get you pregnant and then tell you that it isn't his problem. You are going to choose adoption for this baby, and your sister will adopt-but the moment she introduces you to someone not as her sister but as her baby's birth mother, your relationship with her will be irrevocably changed. You will never again be close to her, and when you hit my age, you will no longer be speaking to one another.
You are going to drink a lot after Baby #3; it will be in many ways the beginning of the end for you. You will marry a man who is the typical "bad boy," but try to keep in mind when you meet him that there is nothing exciting about it at all; he is just another criminal who is very, very good at covering it up and saying what you want to hear. You will have a child with this man, you will get sober because of this man, and you will eventually tell him that he cannot be part of your life anymore. He will very nearly destroy you emotionally, physically, spiritually and financially, and take away what little faith left you have in men. I cannot tell you if you will ever recover completely from this-I haven't yet, though daily progress is made.
You are going to fall in love with someone almost 7 years after getting sober-and he will be "the one." He will be the one to give you an unexpected mid-life baby-try to be happy from the get go, because he is one delicious little baby. This man is going to show you that there is a difference between fucking and making love, and you will learn that it really is different when you love someone. It MEANS something. He is going to challenge you to grow and change, to examine yourself and your thought processes and your belief systems, and he isn't even going to know that he is doing it. He is going to make you laugh, and he is also going to make you cry. I wish I could tell you that you are going to finally get your "happily ever after," but I don't have the answer to that one. It doesn't look like it from where I stand, but then again, neither is all lost.
And I imagine you are sitting there with your long-cold cup of coffee, wondering why in the hell the only things I have to tell you are about drinking and men; you must be thinking, "Jesus Christ, is all I do drink and fuck? There has to be something more!" And yes, there is. There is so much more. However, where I am now in my life is in large part due to the choices I made when I was drinking. Because of the abuse and neglect and craziness of growing up the way we did, I went off the deep end and tried to fill the holes inside myself by drinking and using drugs and men in order to avoid having to deal with any of the shit. I turned my back on all opportunities for help, both intentionally and because I just couldn't see them for what they were. And I tell you this because you don't have to. You still have a whole lifetime ahead of you, and you can choose differently. You CAN go to college; you don't have to be a 36 year old single mother. The choice is yours, and it is not one I envy. I love my life the way it is now; I have worked really hard to get here, and even though it isn't perfect, it is beautiful and full and I have learned that perfect is the most ridiculous word possible to apply to this thing we call life. There is no such thing. You have to decide for yourself what YOU want, and knowing what you now know about your future, you have the chance to change it. I can't change it now, and I don't think I would want to.
And a few things that have nothing to do with men: when you find out from a friend that Angie's dad died, follow the impulse to call her. She will become your best and only real friend for years, she will love you through a lot of shit, and you are not going to have nearly enough time with her. Be a better friend-for a variety of reasons, you are at times not going to be a very good friend to her, and when she dies, you can't take it back or make up for it. Don't have regrets; take ALL your kids to see her, call her more often, and when email arrives on the scene, use it. There will be money problems but find a way-this is important. And when she DOES die, be open to all of the beautiful things and people you are going to meet-and love them not because Angie did, but because you do. This is also important.
On June 23, 2008, when a guy in a white pickup is roaming your neighborhood, get his license plate number and call the police. Listen to your gut and don't let the neighbor play down your fears-sometimes it isn't paranoia. Also, start locking your doors and don't let the kids sleep outside anymore after that day. Just trust me on this one-you will save everyone in your life a lot of fear and heartbreak and terror.
And yes, it is a cliche, but time goes by really, really fast. Money or a husband or a Jaguar are not the be-all, end all of existence-stop looking for happiness in other things and people, and find it in yourself. You don't have much time when you look at the big picture. Try to remember that you get to be in charge of your own life from now on. You can learn how to love and forgive mom, even though it doesn't seem like it right now. You can learn to take the past and use it to help you grow and change, or you can mire yourself down in it and use it for an excuse-you choose. Also, remember what I said at the very beginning of this? About how you look to yourself in the mirror? Please remember that you are not the only person in the world who sees different than what is there-give people a chance, no matter what their outside circumstances appear to be. People are amazing, lovely creatures, and we need them, honey. WE can't make it alone, and if you learn that now, you will be so much better off. Last, I love you-I did not do a very good job of doing that when I was there, but now I can-through you. Love yourself-nurture yourself-and be both your worst critic (when NECESSARY) and your most avid supporter. Life is good-don't forget that.
Love,
Kori at 36
P.S. when your sister want to highlight your hair? Don't let her.
P.P.S. One really, really great thing to look forward to? You never ever have to eat meatloaf again. Never.
Dear Kori,
Grab a cup of coffee (though I don't think you have started drinking it just yet-but you will, believe me!), find a comfy spot to sit, and make sure you won't be disturbed for a little while. I have some things I would like to tell you, it might take awhile.
I look at you now, thinking that you are so dumb and unattractive and worthless, and I want to hug you and tell you that it isn't true. You are none of the above, and I wish there was something I could do to make you believe it now. Your friends, mom, other people tell you it is true, but maybe it will mean more coming from your future self-I don't know. But while of course you have some weight issues (and you will always struggle, I hate to tell you), you are NOT the disgusting slob that you see in the mirror. Now granted, there IS more you could be doing-but you are not unlovable. You know that "family therapist" you and mom and Fat Phil are going to? Pretty soon the therapist is going to get tired of listening to the two of them argue and fight with you sitting in the middle, and she is going to see that maybe YOU can still be helped. You will start seeing her alone-listen to her. Let her help you. Get the chip off your shoulder and start realizing that while you may not be a total loser, you are still pretty fucked up. It is a start, sweetie.
Very soon, you are going to meet the person who will be your first boyfriend. You will meet him at a party where you discover the liberating feeling of being drunk and being the person you always wanted to be. You will lose your virginity to this young man, and you will also have imbibed 3/4 a bottle of champagne before doing so. You will also find that while sex isn't that great (don't blame him-he tried. It is supposed to hurt, dumbass!), alcohol IS, and so begins a pattern of men and alcohol that will fuel you through the next years.
You are going to meet four men who will change your life irrevocably. I won't tell you their names, because you have to be on the lookout for them on your own and make your own decisions. One of them will give you two lovely children, but you will only be married for 18 months or so, and you will not be married again until about 5 years later. It will be hard, raising two small children before you are even close to being raised yourself. If you get the idea out of your head that marriage is supposed to be easy, you two could maybe make it work out-I don't have the answer to this one.
Another of the men will give you a child that you won't be able to keep. You will fall for the gorgeous eyes and the sexy voice and the nice ass, but that is really all there is to him. Well, not true-he is very talented and smart and could do a lot of great things, but he lacks motivation and will never go any further than 60 miles from where he grew up. He will also get you pregnant and then tell you that it isn't his problem. You are going to choose adoption for this baby, and your sister will adopt-but the moment she introduces you to someone not as her sister but as her baby's birth mother, your relationship with her will be irrevocably changed. You will never again be close to her, and when you hit my age, you will no longer be speaking to one another.
You are going to drink a lot after Baby #3; it will be in many ways the beginning of the end for you. You will marry a man who is the typical "bad boy," but try to keep in mind when you meet him that there is nothing exciting about it at all; he is just another criminal who is very, very good at covering it up and saying what you want to hear. You will have a child with this man, you will get sober because of this man, and you will eventually tell him that he cannot be part of your life anymore. He will very nearly destroy you emotionally, physically, spiritually and financially, and take away what little faith left you have in men. I cannot tell you if you will ever recover completely from this-I haven't yet, though daily progress is made.
You are going to fall in love with someone almost 7 years after getting sober-and he will be "the one." He will be the one to give you an unexpected mid-life baby-try to be happy from the get go, because he is one delicious little baby. This man is going to show you that there is a difference between fucking and making love, and you will learn that it really is different when you love someone. It MEANS something. He is going to challenge you to grow and change, to examine yourself and your thought processes and your belief systems, and he isn't even going to know that he is doing it. He is going to make you laugh, and he is also going to make you cry. I wish I could tell you that you are going to finally get your "happily ever after," but I don't have the answer to that one. It doesn't look like it from where I stand, but then again, neither is all lost.
And I imagine you are sitting there with your long-cold cup of coffee, wondering why in the hell the only things I have to tell you are about drinking and men; you must be thinking, "Jesus Christ, is all I do drink and fuck? There has to be something more!" And yes, there is. There is so much more. However, where I am now in my life is in large part due to the choices I made when I was drinking. Because of the abuse and neglect and craziness of growing up the way we did, I went off the deep end and tried to fill the holes inside myself by drinking and using drugs and men in order to avoid having to deal with any of the shit. I turned my back on all opportunities for help, both intentionally and because I just couldn't see them for what they were. And I tell you this because you don't have to. You still have a whole lifetime ahead of you, and you can choose differently. You CAN go to college; you don't have to be a 36 year old single mother. The choice is yours, and it is not one I envy. I love my life the way it is now; I have worked really hard to get here, and even though it isn't perfect, it is beautiful and full and I have learned that perfect is the most ridiculous word possible to apply to this thing we call life. There is no such thing. You have to decide for yourself what YOU want, and knowing what you now know about your future, you have the chance to change it. I can't change it now, and I don't think I would want to.
And a few things that have nothing to do with men: when you find out from a friend that Angie's dad died, follow the impulse to call her. She will become your best and only real friend for years, she will love you through a lot of shit, and you are not going to have nearly enough time with her. Be a better friend-for a variety of reasons, you are at times not going to be a very good friend to her, and when she dies, you can't take it back or make up for it. Don't have regrets; take ALL your kids to see her, call her more often, and when email arrives on the scene, use it. There will be money problems but find a way-this is important. And when she DOES die, be open to all of the beautiful things and people you are going to meet-and love them not because Angie did, but because you do. This is also important.
On June 23, 2008, when a guy in a white pickup is roaming your neighborhood, get his license plate number and call the police. Listen to your gut and don't let the neighbor play down your fears-sometimes it isn't paranoia. Also, start locking your doors and don't let the kids sleep outside anymore after that day. Just trust me on this one-you will save everyone in your life a lot of fear and heartbreak and terror.
And yes, it is a cliche, but time goes by really, really fast. Money or a husband or a Jaguar are not the be-all, end all of existence-stop looking for happiness in other things and people, and find it in yourself. You don't have much time when you look at the big picture. Try to remember that you get to be in charge of your own life from now on. You can learn how to love and forgive mom, even though it doesn't seem like it right now. You can learn to take the past and use it to help you grow and change, or you can mire yourself down in it and use it for an excuse-you choose. Also, remember what I said at the very beginning of this? About how you look to yourself in the mirror? Please remember that you are not the only person in the world who sees different than what is there-give people a chance, no matter what their outside circumstances appear to be. People are amazing, lovely creatures, and we need them, honey. WE can't make it alone, and if you learn that now, you will be so much better off. Last, I love you-I did not do a very good job of doing that when I was there, but now I can-through you. Love yourself-nurture yourself-and be both your worst critic (when NECESSARY) and your most avid supporter. Life is good-don't forget that.
Love,
Kori at 36
P.S. when your sister want to highlight your hair? Don't let her.
P.P.S. One really, really great thing to look forward to? You never ever have to eat meatloaf again. Never.
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