Monday, November 30, 2009

november rain

when my husband and i were courting, i got a letter from him in which he compared my eyes to the november sun on the ocean.

have i said that already? probably. it certainly bears repeating, right?

november is finished, i am ready to take a break from posting but because i have a serious lack of inner resources, i'll probably be back at it bright and early tommorow morning, when i continue my utter disregard for the laundry problem growing in the corners. all of the corners, ALL of the corners.

today was one of those days... a 'late night' for my husband, no nap for the four year old and a futile attempt at cleaning the kitchen... look at my fridge... tell me what you spell with that crackhead collection of letters.

and then, the blur moves in... and its all over. the fat lady has sung and left the building.

Life in the Pictures

over the weekend we had the uber-family dinner (yes, sweetpotatomarshmellow showed.) and my folks had made a big spread of photos and papers that noone could part with but no one knows what to do with. There's so much history and nobody can absorb it all.. what do we do with all of our grasping, afterall? Many times I've told myself that there aren't any 'things' which can truly represent a relationship, not rings, not quilts, not photos... but damn, look at my grammie as a young woman here.. a child, a young mother... what is amazing to me is that I can still learn about her, through conversations and yes, through these photos... and I can also learn about my aunts and uncles as they talk about, avoid, negate and discuss their own places in these photos... large places, even if their role is to give a name to a face. who wields the pen? and so forth.
I love the food, I love the prep, but I mostly love sitting around afterwards and talking or listening as the case may be. I love my cousins, but I love my older family members very much.

(they have learned about this blog so its really a test case to see if they did read it... wonder what love I'll get this year... hehe. ) but not really.

Sunday, November 29, 2009


so i'm double posting and ruining my chances of saying anything witty tommorow - but i just went outside to have a cigarette (bad mommmmmmy) but the sky is clear and the moon so central in the sky over my world. . . we are so small here, my whole world is just a tiny speck in the whole. i just spent ten minutes looking through space to a gigantic white orb sitting in the universe, reflecting the sun's light from the other side of the earth.
the kids are watching the princess bride, and all is right with the world.
just thought i'd let you know we're in expansion mode over here.

recipes and a reading list/stack

ack! the onitons: tablespoon or so of minced ginger, same of minced garlic... i just used heaping amts, not really measured... in a bowl with peeled pearl onions and some sesame oil - can use peanut oil too but I didn't have any. Then you roast them. AH JOY! when they are done, 15-20 minutes depending on your heat - I think we were at 420 but we had a bunch of stuff to roast so it cooled and slowed us down...
when they're done, drizzle with soy, toss and eat. oh dearie. bliss.
and i'm reading Shalimar the Clown by s. Rushdie... I don't know where its going to go but so far, I'm skimming the too much talk parts and rushing to the action. Its well written but I think with the advent of motherhood or maybe just adulthood, I don't have the patience for long narrative descriptions. I'm almost a knights and dragons type girl at this point. But I also have Olive Kittredge waiting on the stand and when I was flying around to Wisconsin at the beginning of this month or maybe last month, it was, i think . geez, pam. anyhow. when i was flying around, every single flight had some interesting looking woman on it, reading Olive Kittredge. we'll see. In the past three days I've/we've gotten the four year old to go to sleep in his own bed.
i know, get yourselves to your knees! holy miracle of miracles.
sorry this post is like a bad email but i almost forgot!
also, soon i plan to take a pen and paper and write down all the titles everyone gave me a while back and make a whole expedition out of shopping them... soon , jaguar, soon.

Saturday, November 28, 2009

Saturday morning.

The mom, having made her fresh coffee and hung the ornaments on the ''chandelier'' to keep them out of the almost two year olds mouth, is sitting at the typewriter for the obligatory daily post. The dad, still naked because he has yet to get out of the bed, has a four year old balancing on his hip and an almost two year old carrying halloween ornaments approaching the 'snuggle cave'. this mom has cold toes but can't get back into the bed without getting kicked or accidentally pummeled by the wild boy action happening in the bed. can you believe it?


Friday, November 27, 2009

one of those things. . .

I completely stand by the roasted sweet potatoes wrapped in proscuitto. COmpleted me, they did. In the future, the wedges should be more temperately sized and that is all. Also, on the story of the roasted onions? (which you know nothing about because that is all part of my interior monologue) fantastic w garlic, ginger and a drizzle of soy at the end.... and ultra scarily simple. SIMPLE. It was an incredible dinner. really.

I'm hoping that Saturday with the big family spread gives me more of that childlike feeling of thanksgiving though. When I'm hosting I'm too concerned with timing, husband's sobriety or lackof, forgotten food items, children's behavior or lackof, etc. yah? Its not anyone else's agenda but mine own, and it still manages to get away from me.

So I'm hoping that Saturday I can be more relaxed, a second chance to ignore the kids and gorge myself on simple goodness and hear my dad tell the story of the pitcher he picked up at my table, that he recognized only in the physical memory of picking it up as the same he'd had at his own childhood table. I picked it up off Grammie's glassware shelf after she died and they were cleaning out the house. nondescript but for its beautiful shape. hallelujah for instinctive grabs.

okay, i'm off to decorate the house and make brownies for the neighbors with the boys in tow... maybe baby_ maybe.

Thursday, November 26, 2009

Happy Thanksgiving

thanks buut I'll get back to you on what actually happened today, if there is time.
this is me cheating and writing a post ahead of time and 'scheduling' it to post on the day of Thursday. . .
let me just say, roasted sweet potato wedges wrapped in prosciutto for the last 15 minutes of the roast.

let me just say.

happy thanksgiving...

eat well.

love someone well.

fly your own damn helicopter.

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

roasting things...

i am in love again. with the smells of roasting squashes. i know, sort of strange. I spent my entire childhood doing all that I could to avoid anything containing or related to squash and now, now my friends, i am preparing to make the best soup ever. squash and potato soup and I have seen the light. anything is good, if it is roasted. Maybe thats why we're all so much happier in the summer . or when people who love us have enough insight to roast us in good humor. Its a sign that they know us, see us clearly, and still love us in all our warty ways.
I wish I had a picture to share of my culinary genious but no, I'm fighting to keep the almost two year old out of the oven. he thinks its a play spot. oh lord. danger has entered our lives in a large fashion.
I'm so happy that its Thanksgiving. we host the first of our meals this year and go to my mothers on Saturday for the humoungous meal of extended family- the first without Grammie, so we'll see if it rings true. I think it will, as the mess of our lives still moves on... and there'll be no end of the talk about her, so I'm even looking forward to it. She'll be shaking in laughter as she watches us avoid the obligatory sweetpotato marshmellow thing that shows up every year.
I am full of love. so you get some today, and thank you for reading! or for being doubtful that I look like a stroke victim, just because I have good legs... :) yes, I do...
wonderful food and blessings to you all....

Tuesday, November 24, 2009


really, not half bad. or, at least.. this is all you're gonna get because the rest of it is simply unspeakable.
but yes, my husband loves them anyways.
men are suckers. easy suckers.

Monday, November 23, 2009

two friends

last week i had two friends tell me on the same day how much they liked to read this thing. it was awesome, but a bit intimidating as they are both very smart women whom i admire (for VERY different reasons). Posting every day has clearly tapped my wit and my subject matter and kept me glued to the computer at weird times while I've tried to think of something to write about besides my kids antics. I mean, I like them..even love them most of the time, but I started this thing to try and figure out my role in my own life. How much has my identity been overhauled by motherhood? quite a bit, as it turns out.. and I don't think I had realized it til this year and from what I read, it changes more and more, particularly as the kids age. I've been a stay at homer for three years now and I am very okay with not working but not so okay with not bringing home my own bacon. I don't really have 'freelance' options :) and congratulations to those of you who do, you are some lucky bitches.

what to do? I was trained as a teacher of preschoolers and kids with special needs and I can't really tell you how little I want to do that again. I did that in 'assistant' capacities for several years and then was a sub in regular elementary classes for FOUR years. I certainly don't want to do THAT again, although I was very good. Having my own kids has soured me a bit on my native abilities, as I can't seem to bring it to fruition for them... the whole dream of 'not raising my voice' has paaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaassssssssssssssssssed. so far gone its not visible.

and while I love to work with kids in crisis, I can't exactly say I want them to stay in crisis just to keep me happy...
maybe my lack of inner resources should just be addressed finally. but no, do'nt be silly.. couldn't be that.
chakra carol anyone?

Sunday, November 22, 2009

too much with us

late and soon.
its a refrain that always rings around the rosy of my head after a long night and a spousal fight.
in this case, i was fighting by myself... yelling at the kids trying to get them to bed by 11. yes, thats right. 11. p.m. children, 2 and 4 years old. they completely kicked my ass and i lost my mind. when my hub came in from his 'walk down the block', i was screaming, felt like throwing the little one into a wall and could not stop the scream. i slept on the sofa, i was so upset- with myself, my kids and my J.
and i am not a single mother.
i'm not.
i have felt overwhelmed... certainly. but, at the end of the day... there is someone coming home. and that is all the difference and so here's my shout out to anyone who is a single parent and has not killed their child. and not only have you not killed your child, you have managed to love them, and let them know of your wild love... I can't believe it. You should all be given warm cookies every day, an enormous hug full of love and sustenance for those long nights and maybe a bunch of money. a bunch.
and then, more love. you should be given more love, and time to do with it what you will.
so rockon mammas. (and dads too, if you be out there) .

Saturday, November 21, 2009

Fourteen again

After an afternoon spent in tears, and wondering when I lost sight of myself and wondering why people that I love haven't spent their days telling me to hide my face, I am on my way to okay.

and my husband's comment... "oh, so thats why those women commented, 'you're so brave'... when they heard you say you were doing this.." actually sealed the deal. It WAS brave, but I just didn't know it in advance. I wasn't thinking about all of the things I don't like about my middle-aged body when I made this appt., nor was I thinking about my natural inclination to smirk or twist my face into pincherlike puckers. I was just feeling generous to my inner wahoo self, and trying something out that I thought I'd really like. I didn't, I wasn't right. but I did it, will have very sassy pics to show my kids when I'm wicked wicked old...

and junior high was no fun. and that's where I spent the afternoon, agonizing over the fact that I did not have the right Esprit clothing or the right Tretorn sneakers, only the Bean boots of preppie dreamers everywhere... so the choice, on my part, to browse the untouched photos was a choice made without thinking- of my pleaser self, of my analytical self, of my nervousnelly awkward girl self. I wonder if the other women who have done this have had similar reactions or if they are just more fearless than I ?
Once I figure out how to do it, I will share. until then, I'm not looking at any photos. or any mirrors, for that matter.

Friday, November 20, 2009


ok, so i got the photos back. and i am actually very upset. i think that, all along, i've thought that (forgive me ahead of time, i feel CRAzy punctuation problems coming along) the way I felt inside was somehow reflected on my outsides. hence, my inner pinup girl needed a photoshoot opportunity .

well. evidently, my exterior is not quite as clear on that as I had thought. or maybe my interior is not as clearly pinup as I had believed. its clearly unclear. i had a friend once who called me an ostrich and i thought it funny as i do have a small face and so on. today it is not so funny.

i look like an ostrich. my face, in the 8 hundred thousand pictures I just browsed through is pinched, puny, and very birdlike. I have always had a smile which drifts towards my good ear.. 'the better to hear you with my dear' but in photos I look somewhat handicapped, as though I've had a stroke. I wish to god I were kidding.

so there it is. its not that good a day to see yourself like this. i need a little more time to process it and then i'll share the non-face parts of the photos because i have great legs. if nothing else, i have great legs.

still bored, but posting AGAIN anyways.

one of the difficulties of this writing every day thing is that it does not allow one to anonymously take those few days off that one needs when you know, life goes to hell temporarily. and it sure as hell does go to hell rather frequently around here. I'm glad to be doing it, this writing thing, but I feel a bit forced ! and that is just part of a MUCH larger problem of being the 'pleaser' type. even though i feel like i've spent much of my adult life moving away from that... its still there. (I think I was thinking of that with the whole plea to Disney. Girls have it bad enough without having to watch the split-up of the psyche on tv. leave us alone.)

its one of the blessings behind my hearing loss, while it is extremely difficult for me, sometimes to interrupt or to beg for repetition... it does have a way of begging for straight talk... no bullshit. I don't have time or the inclination to struggle to understand someone if all they are going to do is talk 'namby pamby'. can't waste my life with that today. don't make me fucking waste my life.

i'm tired. my kids have 'itchy' bums... still no flu so i guess we are fine or something. but evidently, itchy bums make one have fitful sleep, and there is a four year old who sleeps in my bed and boy is fitful. FIT FULLLLL..

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Dear Disney,

Please, I want you to consider what is happening to the little girls and boys of the world under your watch. I want you to look at the shows you are making and the characters you are creating with a more analytical eye. For boys, nothing but jokes and slapstick, no heroes at all. And I am not talking repetitious remakes of cartoonish heroes of yesterday, I'm talking idols, people to look to as walking 'dads'... heroes... working, loving, laughing, crying, playing, teasing, all of it. For girls, I want to point directly at the hannah thing. What is happening on that show is also happening or has happened to the girls you have hired to play these characters. They are so split into two by the belief that 'good girl' and 'REAL' girl are separate things, that they completely fall apart when they hit their own lives with the joining... does that make sense? Its the dichotomy that is killing them, cracking them up... and if its wrecking the actresses? what about the audience? why can't the two be joined? Don't you understand that women/girls ARE both, and at the Same time? Please can you get me more Topanga? a curvy smart sexy girl? or Winnie? the pretty tomboy girl? Maybe some more WonderYears boys? Could you please get Walt back and talk to him through the clouds... I think he'll know what I'm saying.
Thank you,


Wednesday, November 18, 2009

i've got nothing.

obligatory posting here. I had been pre-planning and/or organizing and sending them out to be posted first thing in the morning, which is nice.
but, evidently, nice is OVER.
we have no sick kids, technically... and no flu. just facial rashes and bum rashes. I think i've passed on my overly sensitive skin to them. but vomit and poo ARE rather harsh skincare items, i must say.
i've really got nothing. i am in a struggle with something i cannot change and I'm tired of it, again. so here:
go see Cheerio Road today...
and i'm supposed to get those damn photo things soon and I both dread it and want to know so i can just share the glee/horror.
again, i suck, i'm sorry.
give me something to write about.
i've got a book list, I just need to get to the library and get out of the kids section. . .
again, i suck. i'm sorry. maybe nonomomo is just too much for me.

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

digital is not better

so we have all become digitized. crazy progress. right? except for my tv. my poor beleagured tv that the kids know how to turn on, so i can no longer tell them its 'broken'. its not that its old, its that the poor tv had 'basic' cable, which garnered us enough to get free pbs sprout shows when we wanted, like sesame street and roary the racing car, and the beloved fireman sam, without having to wait til the designated hours... and guess what was no longer free when we all went digital? Can you explain to me how public broadcasting can not be free? the lady on the Cox phoneline (i know, i can't believe they've kept that name!) COX phoneline (repetitions intentional) kept saying,literally... 'well, it is FREE, as long as you are a subscriber'. I pointeed out the dichotomy but she just repeated the above sentence. Thank you for using COX. SO. now we have 5000 channels in an attempt to make my life easier, and goddamn it, I cannot get PBS sprout unless I get 5000 more. seriously. We are making do with the Jonas brothers, of whom I have very serious doubts. I cannot stand how sick I feel when the tv is on too much, I think it releases some kind of stupid after an hour or so... spritzer for the damned.

The real issue I have is with my hearing aide. I know it is not a universally interesting subject but they used to be all analog, with cute little volume control knobs and great hinged doors and guess what? nobody makes them like that anymore... so i hear. the extremely expensive ($2K each!) digital hearing aides do not let you control the volume. they 'do' it for you, adjusting, as they say, to the environment... so lets imagine... you walk into a crowded preschool classroom and the hearing aide automatically reduces the amount of sound it lets in, so the physical reality is that you walk into a wonderfully dynamic romper room and are suddenly deafened and when the teacher talks to you, you have to lean in, squint your eyes and beg forgiveness from God for whatever it is you did in your last life... THANK YOU PROGRESS.This is my old analog, which I currently wear. The door is not supposed to come off, thats the battery thing/door there on the table. If you look, you can actually see through the backside of the plastic, under the 'hinge'metal road thing which has been superglued into place. And of course, the wonderful volume knob, which lets me hear the teachers' comments but lets me 'just say no' to anything coming from the wiggles.
I'm not sure people are supposed to mcguyver hearing aides. I'm really not.
here comes the new one: paid for with a loan from my parents... which I will not wear, but which looks real pretty... and because I spend so much time with a four year old who really thinks he knows everything ... it looks like someone in the Clone Wars... useless. and all i've got left if my little pretty goes awry. . .

Monday, November 16, 2009

apologies o enlightened ones...

sorry about last night's boring post. i did warn you. it sucked. and its not even the flu that has hit here, though it may be a forerunner...vomit and poo, distinctly and from separate boys... which may be a blessing for them. and i'm supposed to be writing every damn day so I wasted a double posting on one day and now i'll be lucky if i make my own self-imposed mediocrity goal. agoodgoddamned.

*and i know now that the word i really like is 'biding', and so what I really like is not the 'imperishable truths' of abiding, but the adjective, i think adjective is right. maybe adverb..., a biding. i'm on hold, a waiting, a holding on, a dream of patience in there somewhere, a 'standing by'... maybe even holding the space, the time, for someone else beyond my own selfish self. maybe.

plus, my husband bought my kid a watergun. i know, harmless... a water pistol even. but this was after several conversations of 'i don't see why we should support the making of 'toy' weapons for the kids with OUR money, they make them themselves out of sticks, toys, etc.... , especially guns... there's no reasons kids should 'play' with a gun, no reason... '

at least, i thought they were conversations.... but no...

way, way early on i wrote really nicely about why i would never write about my husband. its here....
and its great, and i stick by it.
*& @# spit, spit, uppercut- uppercut. groin kick.
walk away with a swagger.
my job is done.
the weapon has been 'lost'. . .

Sunday, November 15, 2009

BORING-do not read.

no inner resources. kids napping again! although this time they have vomits and shits. WAHOOOO. and i am so tired i should be lying beside them but I am unwilling to be awoken by vomit or poo. I am what I am .
and i am crazy bored. all day i have been pinging, doing vomit laundry, changing diapers left and right and then again. I am also crazy tired. crazy. there is nothing on which my brain will snag so it just keeps pinging between items that are also basically, boring. whats a girl to do? shite.

serving up eggs

I was the egg server Saturday morning at the pancake breakfast for my son's school. I love doing it, its my second year and I have a great deal of fun teasing and cajoling the folks who want to eat my wares. really, i do. I am alone, with adults and food... its not bad. But this year, after 3 hours, the din was trying to kill me. Sometimes my ears and eyes (lipreader extraordinaire) literally hurt from all the concentration it takes to figure out what is going on, being said.
My hearing lately has been really bothering me... my lack of it playing a larger than average role in what I feel is an overwhelmingly awkward woman/mother person. In general, people are very generous and don't mind repeating things to me but it is all the off the cuff-ness, the riff and raff that I miss... so I often miss the actual personalities in the people around me.
I have a 23 month old boy who does not do very much talking, still preferring 'eehn, ehn, un...' type stuff. My older son was also late to talk well but had done it before this point. The young one does say mommy and daddy and 'duck' and truck and dog and so on but it is sort of worrisome and I need to have his ears checked and his lead levels re-checked. But every time we are away somewhere, other people hear him say a bunch of words that I have never heard him say. like a full 'apple'. I've heard 'app', which sounds like 'up' and 'help'... but never app-le.
I hate that my hearing crap is causing me this anxiety and may be affecting how well I can communicate with this boy baby who is lightning quick, entering his twos.
I've been telling myself and everyone else that I'm going to wait until he's the full 24 mos. before I seriously worry because I have a gdammned degree in early childhood and I know thats the end of the average range for speech acquisition... but jesus. what if its because his mom can't communicate with him? how much am I missing? so.

Saturday, November 14, 2009

creeepy numbers

so, i'm trying to make up my mind about this statistics counter thing that you can add to your blog. i added it originally at super sister's suggestion because she kept telling me that people WERE reading it, and even liking it. BUT now, I check it almost more than I check who has written what, or how the laundry is doing, or whether the kids are Really hurt or just faking... really. and this is what makes this creepy. I can find out who it was, or at least, from what address... I just discovered this the other day, I can click on a button/line item and see a map of where the people have come from... hello BRAZIL!! Bom DIA!
but also, when playing, saw my sister's law firm pop up. Now she's so cool she's not even a lawyer or a secretary but that IS where she works, and that sort of creeped me out. If I can do this (who barely owns a stereo, no iPod ((although i blame hearing for that one)), no wish to understand twitter and no real understanding of why people like Wiiiiiii.) than just think what technologically savvy people can do... I'm not a crazy conspiracy person really, although I do worry about the encroachment of GPS on our lives... :)
So, I'm thinking about it... and I'm seriously committed to the every day in November goal, but I am really out of things to say. Maybe I'll just talk about my kids and the funny things they say.

Friday, November 13, 2009

No poo and an ode to sugar

we're trying to give up shampoo over here, part of the 'no poo' movement which does not involve constipation of any type. Since I only shower once a week (I am not kidding. it is a choice.), hubby has born the brunt of 'our' new routine of baking soda shampoo with a cidervinegar rinse once a week or so. . . he looks clean to me. I look the same. but hey, it cleans our hair and the drains all at once, how can this be bad? Cost is literally the least of reasons to do it, its for the health of our hair and while I am quite devoted to Pantene, I cannot make out the names of all its ingredients and somehow that just seems wierd to do to our household. I am working on simplifying. -go ahead and ask me if I've ever read the ingredient list on the swedish fish. go ahead.
duh. no. i'm no moron. I don't even want to know, I'm a junkie... I just want the sugary chew ... the hope everlasting... the promise of a better day, a better way...

*today i overloaded on the strawberry jelly and a tiny box of milk duds. I'm on my way up the mountain, getting better but not quite at the top..

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Abiding as word choice

ABIDING. wonderful word. wonder if it exists? for me or for others ? wonder-full word though.
imperishable truths

how do i love thee? whilst the screach from below echoes through the rooms? let me count the ways. . .

i wish i could keep it up and stun you with some sort of wit and shakespeare. but i really can't . the boys are in the second hour of their group nap and i am literally stunned into inaction. I made a pot of fresh coffee and read a bad book from the library and refused to do any pick-up/dishwash or laundry. screw that. I am stunned.

and abiding.

Also, I think I am so tired of waiting for everyone to get sick. without wishing universal action on that statement. I have been on high alert since the beginning of October and what with homeopathy, extra shirts, excess of orange juice, gummybear vitamins and vitamin D pills, the kids are just not sick yet. ! CHIRPY, this mama is, i know, CHIRPY.

wanted to show off about how old I looked with all the makeup from the photoshoot.... see why my ego was not in fact bolstered?! holy . . .

fake eyelashes were cool though. wish i could've had fake non-nursing boobs too. really, like two bags of down... shite.
yet, my husband still loves them. what the hell is that about ? talk about chirpy.

the posting every day thing is making my internal dialogue sound sort of similar to my writing -- is this how it goes? madness seeps in slowly, in full view of the distant strangers whilst my children and husband are the last to know?

although, really, i highly doubt that last bit.

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

i am in love with onions (part 2)

to combat my wild boredom and presumed ensuing menstruation, i am going to tell you what else I love.

Julie Andrews.

is there anything more perfect than maria outside the door of the palace with her guitar and her hand on her hat? is there?

yes, I love her. unabashedly. even the princess stupidhead movies, c'mon, she's the queen of zenobia or something like that... she surfs on a mattress... (the previews showed it, i swear). but mostly because of the feelings she inspires... thank you to Athena for reminding me.

here is some gloriousness that would not happen without mary poppins and maria vontrap...
actually, I think you need to go to Athena's site, which is linked above because I don't know how to put videos in here, evidently. YAHOO. i DID IT, I think. . .its from youtube and kid-friendly. Athena's site is not kid-friendly (supah sexy!) but this posting definitely is! enjoy.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009


today is one of those days where I am constantly asking myself... what the hell is wrong with me? I am completely out of my mind with rage/anger/overreaction/unrealistic expectations ... and right now I am trying to control my breath, notice my emotions, and stay the hell away from the kids. I just finished yelling at an almost two year old who doesn't want a nap.

yes, you see, that is CRAZY. and sort of creepy. and showcases the out of control mom.
I have been trying to make pumpkinchocolate chip cookies for a month, yesterday i roasted the pumpkin and today I made the mix. tonight we eat. WHY? So i could tell someone (Grammie-in my internal dialogue that we have, still ) that I finally used the sugar pumpkin/that i made a homemade treat/that I provided for my children a wonderful bettycrocker moment? and prove myself a good mother? ??!! because it was hellious, from beginning to end- what with my rage and all and the amount of flour that hit the floor may in fact be criminal... I should have just thrown in the towel, abandoned the project and thrown my own flour.
but it was not to be, today i was full of resentment and sugar*.

I feel today that the number of things that have been abandoned has become too large. the projects, the laundry, the dishes, the floor, the vaccuum, the books, the letter, and so on..That list is wavering slightly in the air above my head- what will it matter if I find that all this anger was hormonally motivated. what does it matter? the list does not actually change. only my perspective. I had a bad day. bad.
*I seriously have to remove all the candy from this house, and yet I cannot. Literally cannot. When husband gets home from work, I am taking him on a tour of my stashes and he will clean them out. If I do it myself, I will dig it back out of the trash after the kids go to bed. yes, I will. and because I have typed it here, when this posts.. he will . (because I will 'forget' to ask him to do it, because I must be insane if I need help to get rid of the peanut butter cup BAG in my underwear drawer)
this is why I am not a big drinker. that, and the lifetime of being surrounded by alcoholics. o baby. -although the four pm beer is becoming more of a mainstay.
meanwhile, in the other room that I can watch as I type: my older boy is trying to teach his younger brother how to climb 'back' into the crib. giving slow and wonderful directions. dear god. laughs and smiles all around after he just pulled him on in, afterall.
joy. then he kicked him in the head.
ah, done here ..

Monday, November 9, 2009


i'm struggling with my boredom lately. trying to write every day here has been both more and less of a challenge than I'd thought. Its easier than I thought because I am a good bullshitter. and its harder because I try not to give into my baser instincts, most of the time. I also want to impress myself, be proud of what I write, or see if I can make my husband laugh out loud. But everyday the kids go down for a nap, IF they do... I sit here and browse and browse and really, don't think I'm all the better for it. Feel mostly bored, wait around for someone to post something on one of the blogs I already follow and my god, even this right here, as I type, is boring.
but what i do know is that I will never have a television in my bedroom and that I am starved for books... please please. tell me something good to read. that the library has, so it can't be too new. or your favorite book, or the most interesting story of late. and then I can fill my time with something besides browsing and maybe fill my head with something to write about.

Sunday, November 8, 2009

sharing exposure as a sub-urban stay at home mom

so husband met Chakra Carol this morning. and i wasn't there, and I feel sort of bereft that the one thing that is mine is now shared. and I think it is lame of me, and irrational and its not as if I don't like my husband (although that does sometimes happen) but geez. I DON'T WANT TO SHARE MY CHAKRA CAAAROL.

ITs part of the larger issue of the lameness crisis I've found myself in. I went to do a completely rocking photo shoot as a birthday present for said hubby. I love him, I do. but I ALSO thought the photo shoot would make me feel like a rockstar . and it did far quite the opposite.

first of all, there were two other women there, a tiny slip of a latina goddess, and an ACTUAL derby girl. a fucking derby girl. seriously. a rollerderby girl. fishnets and tallness and all.

and then me.

between the two raging extremes of womanhood, i may as well have been wearing a sweaterset and pearls.
lets just say i lost my mojo...

And, secondly, I am not a natural in front of the camera... no. who knew? I thought I looked like my mother at first glance, and this was not a rockstar inducing moment. (my mom is fine-looking, but nobody wants to look like their mother, especially when trying to pose for their husband, ok?)
thirdly, what I thought was the cost of the whole thing was just a deposit and I owed another TWO HUNDRED DOLLARS at the the end of the wierd lameduck experience. AH.
I had to run home and transfer money around just to not bounce a check. go ahead, add to the joy.
who am i ? when do i become a roller derby girl? If I get knocked on the head its possible that I lose my ears again, and so I could never do it. not worth the risk just to have some fun. right? i mean, i know it. but i feel old for my fear, and my acknowledgement of risk and
but! never fear. i will show the appropriate pictures when I see them, as I am the sort who has to talk publicly about things I am embarassed about... I can't abide the secrecy. so there.

Saturday, November 7, 2009

naptime action, and not of the sexy sort

check the times on the blogs you read. how many of them are written while a mom/dad is alone for 10 seconds while someone is napping? geez. for that matter, when are you READING? seriously, room of one's own? HAHA. i say HA HA, to you. All we need is 10 seconds and we are strangling ourselves to reach out.
and when the hell does the laundry get done? vacuum? feed ? cook? think? write? paint? breathe? 10 seconds seems like short shrift now. I'm verry tired right now, faced again with the dueling expectations for myself of supermother and housekeeper. I don't seem to be doing either very well and its wearing on me. I have a babysitter !! and all I can really manage to do in the four hours that she is here is go grocery shopping and browse the internet. it seems like something meaningful is missing. Maybe I, like so many others, need to limit my computer time and do SOMETHING.
Yesterday my old boy had his long day at school and I watched a movie of the cheesyromanticpop sort. Those things never actually leave me with a good feeling, I am always slightly depressed and missing the parts of me that used to believe in that crap. LOVE, yes. Romance? no.
but look at these shoes... this is what i wore on the night that didn't work out... now, think about what that could mean... and you'll be very very wrong. . . but i've had to struggle with a major self-identity overhaul. turns out, i am not a roller derby girl.

not even close.

so what the hell am


Friday, November 6, 2009

why i do love yoga anyways

not because it is so fun to say 'om' or to investigate belief in namaste...

but because, when asked to 'press down your left heel'... you have to think about your body in its specifics. because your body does not actually do what you ask it to if you just repeat phrases in your head. you know? so the connections between thought and action are re-forged in the body and- i think that i'm learning about how my body works, finally, after 35 years or so. its a pretty powerful thing, and it is changing how i do the dishes, how i drive the car... and even how i eat. (admission: i have realized how bad sugar is for me lately. SOOO bad. makes me an evil screaming bitch. but halloween has just been here and i am eating peanut butter cups. so there. )

I am never going to know what the poses are called because I can't hear the instructors. ever. I know that just about everything ends with 'ana' or something something pose ..but all I can do is concentrate on my thigh muscles and avoiding an overrelianceupon my knee joint, so I cannot concentrate on lip-reading an 'ana' pose name. Someday, maybe. but probably not.

and my classes are almost all women. have you looked at women's hands lately? they are so ridiculously beautiful . my god. and even i, the awkward queen of the jungle, have hands worth noticing.

I love the breathing that it is instilling in me again. breathing. so damn simple. should get me through these days of 5 am wakings.
and there is something in the air for me these days, the not-sleeping is JUST me... i'm up. i take a bath at 5 o'clock in the morning because i am just wiped out by the waiting for dawn... and i think, maybe a bath will help me get an hour of sleep. christ almighty.




Thursday, November 5, 2009

NoMo PoPo

I'm going to try and post something every day this month, as it seems like there are tons of contests and so ons for bloggers to do something like that. They all have wierd names like NoNoWriMo or somesuch and since I really can't join a group that stands by or under a name like that, I am just going to see what it is like to have a goal and use it as a crutch. (I've gotten some kind of ticket each week for the past few weeks and that is why I am all in favor of NoMo POPO)

Yesterday was Looong and the day before that? even longer. I have been battling against the desire to get things done. and by that, I mean, the kids have been battling against my desire to get things done. IT took me nearly 30 minutes to get plastic, and cover the bathroom leakyair window. This is a small window, the process of taping the plastic up is one I could do with my eyes closed because I have done it so many freaking times. that said, when the almost two year old decides to help by investigating the materials. . . oooh scissors, lets see what happens if i put the tape into the toilet, oooooh plastic. . . this mom nearly lost (forget that, totally DID lose) her marbles.

and its my own damn fault. why the hell did I care whether the freaking plastic got on the window, Right then? why? who the hell gives a shit if the plastic is on then, or maybe the next day when said babyboy actually naps? stupid expectations! stupid!

chill out.

plan maybe, but stop freaking losing your shit . thats me talking to myself.
Maybe this'll be the shortest term goal of the month, i'm not sure I want to hear myself spontaneously blather, like, did you read the last few posts? my GOD, i'm not sure I want to hear myself spontaneously blather! awkward girl must make some sort of plan. must.

and then last night i did a wild thing which did NOT work out the way I wanted it to. I'll have plenty to write about for awhile. lets leave it there. and someone get Chakra CaROL on the phone.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

loong day

i called my sister last night --after digging an old cigarette out of the ashtray (of Grammie's car!! the horror...), hiding on the front porch while my kids screamed inside, inches from my crappy ears on the other side of the door. there is something about the changing of the clocks and the quality of the light that are combining to make the 4-6 pm hours a wierd and wild version of mommyhell.

there was also the parent-teacher conference, the wildly expensive soup-buying extravaganza at the grocery store. one would think they were predicting a blizzard.. but no, just the flu. we will succumb soon i am sure but are currently fighting the good fight of health. i hadn't even gorged on candy and yet I was COMPLETELY LIVID that my husband had finished off the last beer the night before and I could not complete my picture of wild mother insanity on the porch by throwing a bottle into the street. I could have thrown a vase but it would have been soooo suburban of me.

can't have that.
anyhow. god bless my sister. she takes my calls. i love that about her. :)

Monday, November 2, 2009

i am in love with onions.

seriously, baked. fried. baked. sauteed. raw. diced, minced!, chunked. anyway you think of it, i am in love with the onion. all the types. the sweet vidalia, tangy red, tiny pearl. there is a special place in my onion heart for the shallot. oh lord. and to think of carmelizing is literally to set my mouth asweat .

oh god. ROASTED! how could i forget roasted? in the pan with all the fantastic vegetables, under the roasting meat?!! oh my god.
i am on the floor.


I think it may have something to do with that little man on the inside, the statuette who has begun again to shimmy and shake with golden flakes ... not tony the tiger but -something like. The title of this post is a link to another woman's post who talks about the religiously unaffiliated and those who chose the 'none' religious category. She writes well and was referred to by Karen Maezen Miller, whose blog I also read and like, Cheerio Road.

For me, belief is a way of tapping into a much larger passionpool... and I don't want to give it up and haven't liked my moments when I haven't had a choice in it. . . its a way of seeing a wider pattern in the wildness, a motivation behind the craziness of a cardinal and I get a great deal of joy and wonder from it. I think the author of the link is a Buddhist so there is the connection there to a much larger communal mass, yes? and can't joy and wonder, even if they are not called faith and belief, be all considered within the same frame?

I don't mean to obsess, but want to hear how other people handle it, or if there is no belief system, what gets you through tough and glorious times?

Maybe it is the mess of misunderstanding the difference between Religion and Faith? Does one need a book, after all, to BELIEVE? in something or in the natural world as proof of divine intervention? creation? but then again, my definitions of these things are clearly suspect, as I'm all about sensation and faith, and not rules or definitions. huh, figure that one out.
I am clearly on the look out for passion, magic and possibility... all of which are easy to find if you are up for it. EASY.

Sunday, November 1, 2009

take it.

right now i would trade my children and all the experiences of having them for the wild idea of getting that extra hour of sleep that people claim is possible with this goddamned daylightsavings fiasco. on halloween, the morning after has become something of my wierdest wildest nightmares... these kids are literally spinning, and according to the f'ed up clock, they woke up at 5:30 this morning. so, all of you smug grownups up there... take my kids, take the birth story, take the midnight/allnight nursings and shove em up your ass.
i love you and wish you well, too.