I Wanna Stay Here

We've had a couple of great events this weekend. Life is good.

We hung out around the house most of Saturday doing things like laundry and straightening up (actually, Wood did that while I wrote). While straightening Twigs toy baskets, I had a chance to and felt like I was slowing down a bit. It felt so good that I was able to find the space to initiate some one-on-one playtime with my boy.

We started inside the house with building blocks and then re-nesting them and ended up outside on a neighbors trampoline jumping, screaming and giggling to our heart's content. It felt really good to have no other worries for a spell. It's where I'd like to be more often!

Later, Twig had his first sleep-over and it was super successful! Wood and I had a very nice date because of the success! Thank you Did & family! THANK YOU!

As of 5 am this morning Wood departed the Bay Area... After I picked up Twig from his sleepover, we did some snack shopping. Now that we've made it home, we're still feeling the hermit-like feelings from Saturday. So much so that an offer of sushi for dinner was declined.

It's nice to hang out at home sometimes.

Growing Pains

A heaviness looms over me in such a way that makes me feel like bursting into tears at any time and for no apparent reason. This fragility is not my usual state of being; as my sweet kindred-spirit and much too-far-away friend B says, I'm usually one "tough cookie".

Wood is leaving for a business trip very early Sunday morning. Twig and I were originally going to take the journey south too but the more I thought about it, the more it seemed like a bad idea; to be in a city for almost a week with only one set of friends (and a relatively pensive friendship at this point), with no car, and seeing Papi only for dinners. It just didn't sound like all that much fun. In the end I thought it would be easier to be at home in our own space - even if we're just the two of us... So I opted Twig and me out.

As Wood's departure looms nearer my level of for-no-reason-tear-y-ness seems to be increasing. As my daily routines engulf me, I am cognizant enough to realize that the tears are not of sadness that he's leaving. Really. I don't mind the time away from my husband as much as he minds the time away from me. Rather, it's the conflict that chatters in my body and soul lately.

I wanna go away by MYSELF!

(read that again and a the same time, picture if you will, an almost 40 year old woman with grey hair and reading glasses laying on the floor kicking, screaming, and crying just like a toddler in the throes of a hysterical temper tantrum over not getting her way)

It's not about his business trip, that he's going away for a few days, or that I'll be exclusively responsible for Twig and me for several days. Yeah, that'll be tough but not too much outside the norm. Wood is helpful but as of late (it feels like) his work needs are paramount to that of mine or Twig's - his family comes second.

The internal struggle is between me and my obligations. I'm oh-so-exhausted lately. I want to catch up on sleep, to have extra time - and have it filled with "extra curricular" activities in the same way he does! I want to know what my schedule is going to be, to do three things I want to do - even if it is work. I don't want to drop everything I've got planned (which is not too exciting - grocery shopping or cleaning the toilet) so that he can do what he needs to do for work.

The problem is that I've worked it out in my head that my job is to support my family - in whatever way they need. While I know that my needs are important too, I tell myself to set those aside. It's not going to be this way forever. To make it through, I internalize it all, get sulky, and self-medicate with coffee from Peet's and Twix candy bars from the lunch-room vending machine. I hold it all inside and then when I'm overwhelmed, I roar at them here and there. It's purpose being to allow room for a little more instead of exploding in one fatal swoop.

At the end of the day, I do see the effect. In my energy level, my husband's ability, and my son's family drawings. All I want to do is sleep, he expresses his feelings of inadequacy. Twigs drawings have recently taken on a new theme: his parents are sad. The roaring may be somewhat effective in the short run but in the long run it scars.

I'll continue to pretend that I'm not affected. Actually, I'll continue to work toward NOT being affected.

I will continue to try with all my might to address my gained weight, make and keep those weekly family appointments with the new Nice Lady, and to write here. To try and find more and better ways to get what I need too: to reduce the pressure and balance what we all want and need.

B, you and other people are right. My personal history overcooked me a tad and has made me a little brittle around the edges. It's simply another way of saying that I am strong and smart and fearless. Thanks for the reminder!

On the inside I'm sweet and gooey. Those are the tastiest parts. They're the ones that give you and me the strength to know and persevere. As tough as all of this is, I know we can do this. Even through the tears.

I'm a Little Bit Rock 'n Roll...

The photograph in a magazine advertisement surfaced the memory of one of his many eccentricities. The brown and white patterns, thick stitching and high-gloss-polished leather conjured long-forgotten images of him.

No matter what he was doing - wielding a hammer, cooking dinner, or deep sea fishing - Crooked-Nose-Tom wore jeans, a collared shirt, and the most amazing cowboy boots.

Our relationship - it's pensive, delayed start, conflicted middle, cavernous ending, and everything in between - really was beautiful.

Just like those boots.

I miss you, Dad.

The New Yorker

Upon seeing this cover, we've decided that we're going to subscribe to the New Yorker. It may be wrong; but it has sparked conversation. As the title of this here blog implies, I think that conversation is really important.

Weekend Respite

We spent Saturday and Sunday with one of Twig's friends from school and his parents at the beach in Bolinas. We had a great time! We played at the beach, took a hike and laughed a whole bunch! No Monday post because we're back to our usual routines. No worry, keep these in mind to ward away any frustrations...

More Silly Stuff

You Are Noon

You are upbeat, ambitious, and never at loss for energy. You have a lot that drives you in life. The desire to be the best, and a secret hope of fame and power. And while you definitely have a Type A personality, you are still fun to be around. You have a ton of charisma and a genuine interest in others. You are adored by many.

What Time Of Day Are You?

A Timeless Prayer

I'm not really religious, but the older I get, I find myself feeling that prayers and such activities helps to calm the mind and provide direction. And, since I haven't found any time to post in the past few days - and the next few won't allow any either - we're off camping for the next couple of days. But, I thought this would be nice to share.

A 17TH-CENTURY NUN'S PRAYER

Lord thou knowest better than I know myself that I am growing older and will someday be old.

Keep me from the fatal habit of thinking I must say something on every subject and on every occasion.

Release me from craving to straighten out everybody's affairs.

Make me thoughtful but not moody; helpful but not bossy.

With my vast store of wisdom it seems a pity not to use it all, but thou knowest Lord that I want a few friends at the end.

Keep my mind free from the recital of endless details; give me wings to get to the point.

Seal my lips on my aches and pains. They are increasing and the love of rehearsing them is becoming sweeter as the years go by.

I dare not ask for grace enough to enjoy the tales of others' pains, but help me to endure them with patience.

I dare not ask for improved memory, but for a growing humility and a lessening cocksureness when my memory seems to clash with the memories of others.

Teach me the glorious lesson that occasionally I may be mistaken.

Keep me reasonably sweet; I do not want to be a saint - some of them are so hard to live with - but a sour old person is one of the crowning works of the devil.

Give me the ability to see good things in unexpected places, and talents in unexpected people. And, give me, O Lord, the grace to tell people about it.

For all our sakes,
AMEN

Parenting Classes, Huh?

Have I ever told you the story of the night that my step-father attacked my boyfriend with a machete over a drug deal gone bad?

As I explained and cried about my parenting woes the other day, Mammy said she always tried to learn more ways to be an effective parent. Even she found it pretty ironic as she remembered that on the Night of the Machete she wasn't around to partake in the festivities (and no, she didn't approve of the drugs/dealing). She was at a parenting class.

Good times, I tell ya. Good times.

There's a longer post to be had outta this one, I think.

Still Seething

7:30pm

"Time to choose pajamas and books to read."

"NO, I don't want to."

"C'mon, let's go."

"No!" As he runs from his room to mine, he climbs on the bed from the point farthest away from trying to get to the other side of the bed as I get closer. I grab him by his ankle, pull him off of the bed, "No, NO, NO!" he says as I carry him to his room. I feel my blood pressure rising. Wood, who's been entertaining outside for most of the evening has by this time settled in to watch Baseball.

"Short sleeves or long sleeves tonight?"

"I don't wanna wear jammies. I'm playing with this toy."

"It's time to choose jammies or you're going to lose one book."

The play continues and I know we're in for a long one. Not 5 minutes into this and I'm ready to lay down and fall out myself; it was one of those days at work today.

"Okay, one book lost."

"NO, NO, NO, NO!"

"That's the consequence. Do you know what a consequence is? It's what happens when you break a rule."

"if you break the law, the police will take you to jail."

"yes, the consequence of breaking the law is that you will go to jail. The consequence for not listening to Mom and Dad when it's time to go to bed is to lose a book. C'mon, let's get these clothes on."

"I want TWO BOOKS."

And so the evening goes. Every time I try to lay down the law, he takes it up a notch. I can bluff him by not reacting, or use logic to appeal to him and the fact that his winnings could be so much greater if he'd just go to sleep! . But it doesn't work out that way. He's seen my hand and in the infinite wisdom of his four year old body and soul says "I'll see your threat and raise you by two, bitch."

8:30pm

He gets me to lay down with him, plays, gives me raspberries on my arms and giggles, asks why, gets out of bed, has to pee, needs to give his Daddy one more hug and kiss, runs to my room and jumps on the bed. I answer questions, offer to rub his back, remind him that we don't hit - and I can call the police if he keeps it up, threaten to take away his things (like his favorite shoes), put him back in bed every time he gets out, leave the room myself, and stop responding verbally (which helps a mere tad). When he's really angry and frustrated at me he whine/cries "you're not my best mom", "I wish I lived here alone", and "I wish I were big like a giant."

We're upping the ante with every interaction and Wood is still sitting on the couch watching baseball.

When I've reached my limit, the pronouncement "I'm DONE" prompts Wood to swoop in to make the save. But it doesn't work tonight. None of us knows how to maintain boundaries and also minimize the intensity that's been built up by this point.

If anything it seems to be intensifying even more. So, 15 minutes later, I take over again.

"IT'S TIME TO GO TO BED TWIG." He goes to his room. I go to mine.

He comes out of his room. "GO TO BED TWIG."

"But, I just want to sleep with you." Yes, that could be the easier option at the moment. But I'm infuriated and exhausted and it's almost 9:30PM on MONDAY NIGHT.

"NO! You're not invited in my bed." So instead of coming to my room again, he stands at the top of the stairs watching his dad watch television. Whining something that's incomprehensible because he's exhausted from the fighting to subvert us at all costs. In my rage, I believe that the piece de resistance is a spanking. Yeah! Let's take it there so it'll end sooner rather than later. So, I implement my plan - over a thick disposable diaper I give him a swat and put him in his bed, screaming and crying.

Soon thereafter, Wood does save the day. Comforts him once his hypocrite of a mother resorts to violence to end the argument. Wood gets him to settle down and finally fall asleep. Granted it's after I've made my kid feel like crap and as if I don't care, and after Wood's made something like 35 trips up and down the stairs. But hey, he's asleep.

It's after 10pm by now. I'm laying in bed, simultaneously exhausted and ready to explode. Really, I want never do this again - to spare us all this pain and suffering.

I remember as a kid feeling the same way Twig seems to feel during these times. I said and did the same things he's doing; did and said anything possible to keep the fight going. I don't remember what I wanted. But I do remember having an expectation that my parents show me the better way by example.

In my exhaustion, I'm trying to figure out how this started or where it could have been derailed. The epiphany - other than the feeling that I'm the incapable root cause - never comes.

It took TWO AND A HALF HOURS (!) to get my kid to sleep last night. Unfortunately, this isn't the first time that this has happened in the past week.

At 5am this morning, Wood's alarm woke me. Still seething. Better go write.

Twig was up at 5:40am, I'm afraid. He's feeling about the same as me.

FUCK.

Everything Changes

The day got away from me yesterday and I didn't get to write...

I've had a headache for the past few evenings - doing an herbal total body cleanse - no caffeine and no alcohol in the foreseeable future. Trying that route before going back to the Chinese herbalist/acupuncturist for lower back pain (Traditional Chinese Medicine says lower back pain is a Kidney problem that doesn't go away quickly) - he's really expensive and we're spending some cash on family needs right now.

It's 30 minutes before bedtime and Twig's outside riding his bike under the watchful eye of Wood and Big C (our fantastic neighbor with two kids that are also friends with Twig).

I've been thinking lately that I really want to write a post about how I met my First Love. And about how I met my Dad in a Walgreens Coffee Shop. I haven't seen First Love in 15 or so years. He's been on my mind off and on over the past 4 or 5. My Dad is dead now. We'd been estranged for at least 8 years before he died, almost two years ago now.

First Love and Dad were very important to me for so many different and complex reasons. I have very mixed feelings about my still-very-strong feelings for each of them. Perhaps because they both were and are unavailable I think of them so frequently. It's also an interesting metaphor - especially compared to the way I met each of them. Now though, I wonder:

How are you?
Are you happier now?
What did you learn?
Do you know that I still love you? Yeah, it's true.

Got to stop now. Tears are forming. Not enough time to process this now. All in good time - I'll try not to take 20 more years.

The Compound

About a year ago, my youngest sister decided that she wanted to buy a house. She was renting an amazing house with a lot of land and an in-law unit - for a song and a dance. But so focused was she on obtaining her very own white picket fence...

She talked to me exactly one time in the beginning of her search; I, like any good eldest sister would, peppered her with questions concerning cash-flow, budget, qualifying for a loan, and realistic home prices in the lovely bay area juxtaposed against being a single mom of a tween earning a teachers salary and the possibility of that reality getting her much more than a cardboard box.

At the time she decided that she must be a property owner, she convinced our almost-60year-old-permanently-disabled-single mother, whom she was living with, to invest in and co-own the loan. It did not take Littlest Sis (AKA: The Favorite - Fav) much to talk my mom into the deal. Mammy has a long history with infomercials and get-rich-quick schemes. Talk to her about a great investment opportunity or the possibility of incredible earning potential and she's pretty much going to sign on the dotted line.

Eventually Fav found an overpriced, 3 story, under-maintained, 3 bedroom 3 bathroom house owned by a teacher and decided to use the seller's real estate agent to help her purchase. YIPEEE! The teacher wanted to sell to the teacher. Fav decided to use a 'friend', who convinced her that she could actually afford almost three-quarters of a million dollars on her teacher's salary, to get the (interest only) loan.

Not too deep into escrow, it became apparent that there was more loan than Fav and Mammy could afford between the two of them. So, Fav decides that it would be a good idea to invite our middle sister (Lil Sis), her husband and their two kids to join in - for investment purposes, of course.

They all decided that this would be a good business venture, the best way to get into the real estate market. Pool their limited resources for the greater good. Fantastic idea in principle.

Mammy stated her concern to me early on in the escrow process. "I just don't know what to do, Fav and Lil Sis won't do what needs to be done to put these things in writing" she said. The way to resolve the issue was quite simple in my estimation... "Well, you know Mammy, you do hold the purse strings. Tell them you won't put your money on the table until the other stuff is in place."

I voiced my concerns to each of them individually and told them of my concerns before it all happened. Fav didn't listen to my line of questioning and Mammy didn't take my advice. They all moved in together and didn't take the steps necessary to enter into discussions or written business agreements until they were all settled in. Issues of money, down payment, rent, space considerations, bills, and the like - not to mention expectations around how to treat one another, were never openly discussed, nor put on paper in any detail sufficient to ward against problems later on down the road.

Needless to say, things got out of hand very quickly. Lil Sis and Fav don't get along very well as it is and living together has served only to drive a wedge further between them. A few months after Fav gets everyone to buy into this situation she decided that it wasn't working for her and she wanted out.

No matter how hard I tried, Robert Fulghum - All I Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten - was the best advice I could come up with...

No discussion. She's decided she's done. She's unwilling to try to find a mutually agreeable solution. She put the house up for sale and isn't following through with any of her commitments to the rest of her family. The rest of the family has followed suit by not following their agreements. Mammy will be forced to take the biggest financial hit - and she'll be homeless soon.

For me there are no sides - they're all wrong - I can't get involved because the fallout is too great. I've listened, advised, and done my best to encourage each of them to figure something out that is works for everyone. Unfortunately, it's not going to happen.

Promises, Promises

I can't decide whether or not to keep my wedding shoes. They've been taking up space in the depths of my closet for more than 5 years now and I'll very, very likely never wear them ever again.

We decided, quite pragmatically over coffee and cigars one Sunday morning, to get hitched. Truth be told, I had no problem living in sin. And, even though I liked our current arrangement just fine, I had very few qualms about getting married. Actually, I fully expected things to remain about the same - or to get better - once we did the deed.

Jokingly, I would ask "If we get married, can I still be your girlfriend?"

Wood would reply with glee, "Absolutely!"

It's a little disconcerting; I just realized that those shoes aren't taking up all that much space, they're really a simple reminder of how after the wedding, everything changed!

Things aren't as pragmatic as they once were but no matter. Those shoes are going to get the best piece of closet real estate there is to be had: front and center so that every time either of us open the door, SMACK: there they are!

Those were some amazingly good times and they should be celebrated at every turn.

Dwelling Place of the Great Spirit

This California Redwood, in all it's glory, stands at about 150 feet tall and at it's base is about 8 feet across. We are majority owner of it - it's trunk spans three property lines - most of it encompasses our backyard.

Not long after we moved into this house (more than 4 years ago now), we called a friend who's an Arborist and had him over to remove some dead trees and inspect and trim the Redwood. The trees, much like our house, had been seriously uncared for and needed some attention.

This Arborist friend of ours is kinda quirky but he helped us to cement our love for this tree as one of the best features of the house. While he and his partner worked removing old dead trees in the yard, he couldn't stop professing his love for the Redwood tree - and how honored he was to be able to climb in it and care for it. As you can see, it is a very impressive specimen.

We learned that one of the neighbors attempted to get the tree cut down a few years before we moved in. The plan was squelched - rumor has it that this tree has protected status as a historical landmark or something.

Unfortunately, Wood noticed a while back that the tree was really brown at the top. We immediately called the arborist friend and asked for a visit.

He doesn't think that anything is wrong with the tree. It doesn't appear to have any disease or fungus. He doesn't think that the French Drain project we completed last year could have injured it. Did you know that the root-span of a tree is twice as far out as it is tall? That means that this tree's root structure could be as far away as a block and a half or more from our house!

I'm worried though, the tree seems to be browning more quite quickly. Our Arborist said that trees do have a limited lifespan. Redwoods apparently die, even in the forest, and urban dwelling can certainly cause some additional challenges for thriving in old age. While all that makes perfect sense, it's sad.

I love this tree.

Artist?

Monday morning found me needing to write a bit about a dream. While doing so, Twig found the camera. I'm generally hypersensitive about him "playing" with the camera since it's close to death on account of him. But since it is so close to death, and because I couldn't be bothered before work to have yet another argument, I let him do his thing.


I was quite surprised this morning as I downloaded the two pictures I'd taken only to find 28 photos that he'd taken in the course of about 10 minutes! No, I wasn't paying attention to him (as the last photo proves).
I'm busy having a love affair with Blogger (shh, don't tell Wood)!

Best Advice Ever

In the heat of being disciplined, kids will do and say the craziest things...

They'll hit, kick, and spit at you, run away from you and even mock you by laughing in your face. If the sticks and stones don't work, they'll certainly try to use words to hurt you: "You're not being nice to me" (that's easy enough) or "I'm never going to stay here any more" (a 3 year old runaway?), "I'm never going to be your friend" (no problem) or "You can't be my Mom anymore!" (ouch!).

I'm assuming that puberty or thereabouts will be even more gut-wrenching than these here late 3's and early 4's. While I know that I owe it to my kid to teach him to be a decent, respectable person, this shit is way more than hard work. My job is a freakin' cake-walk compared to this stuff.

Thank GOD for friends, I tell ya! While I was barely hanging on to the curb by my fingernails last night, this fantasmic woman I know called just in the nick of time! She pushed me back on to the sidewalk by listening, sharing her experiences, and reminding me of one really important way to get through these blanked-up times. "Remember", she said:

"Spine of steel, heart of stone."

Thank you!