Tuesday, February 25, 2014


this has been school vacation week.  this is a full night of sleep gone. and it is not the first, and for the baby, it is the second... though this one was fevered and not vomitous. which, aside from the worry being the same, is a miraculous lightening of the laundry load. miraculous.
i have been stumbling.  i am still.
its been a laughably long time since I've been so tired.  I can hardly think... I am obviously not on the top of my game anymore.  I'm sure I'll be fine by lunch, but now? as we wait for the bus i am hiding in here on the computer, barely able to feel my face. evidently, typing takes the little energy i have in reserve and i'm going to go lie down with the baby and hope she falls into a hot sweaty ball mess of sleep for a little while.  always hoping someone else will give me what i want. 
i'm definitely in a mid-life crisis.  how droll. _  i am disgusting_ there, i said it. 


Tuesday, February 18, 2014

Menstruation Anniversary

I know its been another month since my dad died, because I've got menstruation going on again.  Its fitting, this small death getting bigger.  I've been so outoftheworld lately, with a sleepless night of mothering a sickone who slept all the way through.... a school vacation of routineless waiting... a baby who believes only in nakedness and grunting... a husband who is trying, trying, trying. . .

I've lost the cord which allows mypictures to appear here. I'm trying to link it to something meaningful, to add meaning to the mundane, but I think I have lost that ability.  I am deeply worried about my levels of mundanity, I have to say... that little girl who got hit in the gut with the crowbar last time i wrote? she's still huddled in the corner, and I'm watching her from around the bend.  She's been with me a very long time, and I don't know what I'll do if she can't get up on her own. 

it makes four months now, and i am removed, but able to recognize my life, at least, maybe the lies, as well. they've been around a lot less than the little girl's faith in aslan, but they are like wintermeal moths... in their flight through a room, they garner a lot of attention, once noticed.

i've been reading ... one chapter apiece of some self-help books... one chapter, then down it goes... i suppose i have no inner resource to tap, no ability to 'do the work'... and so i switch back to the 12 book saga of swordsmashing magical overlord easy reading that is so skimmable.   done with that series, whats the next? the characters all meld, the magics all purely words on the page.

life life life. sparkle die sparkle die.
how do you incorporate that?  HOW?! GHGLKHSDOKJDE!!!!!

oh. brother.

Wednesday, February 12, 2014


I have to tell you I think I'm in the middle of a very slow and steady spiral.  I cannot actually tell if I'm on my way up or on my way down, yet.  I feel down, but am still touching hope that I might be off my rocker and will cling to insanity as my best defense, perhaps in the end tending upwards. let it be so.
I'm loose, my friends, my parts are not all connected with strong fibrous means any longer.  I am loose, and wandering. 
Last night I asked myself, 'what if there is no Aslan?'.   and it was like a crowbar to my 12 year old girl stomach.  something to grieve, certainly.  to the depths.
how ? what?  where have i come to? shit.  and way deeper than shit.
my dad's death is now circling around me, and i can't get away.  I'm failing in everything that I'm setting out to do and I cannot get out of my own way.  Its tremendous and its terrible.
my hubsJ asked me what i thought the purpose of life was .  . . i was stymied. not only at the answer but at the question. purpose?! all in a dull fog for the next episodes.

i'm all up in the mid-life, babies. all . up.

Friday, February 7, 2014


the drug of the nation.

right? i'm not saying i'm free of its pull, but man, when you can see it acting out in someone else, its powerful and thought-provoking (or it should be, if one is not its target). 
Projection.  When we feel bad, ugly, guilty... and assume ourselves attacked, scorned, judged... no matter the validity of the assumption...

ass. u, me.  we all dig.  anyone who says they are free of it.  ass, u, me.


disclaimer: is this to say that there are no actions that hold judgement, scorn, aggression in them? no.  but all is not always as it seems.

we are the crux of our own problems... all the time.  even when stuff sucks, it is still all us, all the time.

yes? no?

oh good lord.

Monday, February 3, 2014


the kids are at school .   it began snowing as they were waiting for the bus and has been snowing now for roughly six hours.  everything is beautiful. the yard is sugared.
the baby is asleep on the sofa, i am not doing chores.  it is quiet.
i've got photos all around me, on the walls, clipped to children's artwork. it is good and bad. things change so fast, so slow, so entirely. the past is real and false all at once. or, maybe, not false really, but gone, flexible in its truths. photos of the boys as babies, toddlers... what i remember of my dad from fifteen years ago, three months, and so on... how much has changed . . .
but its always changing like that, even when we don't look at it, how is it that we are so complacent, hmm ? 
i went to a birthday for a friend of mine.. took hubsJ and one of my oldest friends. . . 40 40.  i had drinks for the first time in ages and was okay! wahoo. no sickness for me .   but it was astonishing just how much i was 'fed' by seeing happy people... astonishing.  not only did i have a nice time of my own, but seeing the joy dancing around the floor was awe-some.  (this is the year we are 40... me and many of mine) i laughed and gossiped and felt guilt for the gossip and moved on... even danced with my poor damn bladder. . . so there is that. new crayons.

there are these moments. and i am clutching them.  (we are going to look away from the clutch and gaze out the window some more.)