What Are You Doing Now?

I'm off duty for a while this afternoon. Wood was at an all day training so he's outside with Twig and the neighborhood kids being the adult supervision as they ride bikes and act like the kids that they are.

I'm simultaneously drinking a glass of red wine, simmering Beef Shank for "Like French Onion Soup", browning tofu for tonight's dinner of Tassajara Tofu Cabbage Grill fooling around on the computer [by the way, are you on facebook yet? please send me a friend request if you know my non-pen name].

My Asthma is bad lately; new medications are working for short bursts of time and it's kinda got me down. I hate to take drugs and right now I'm taking many of them and several times a day.

We went to the tax man last week and learned that all of the working our asses off to get money in the bank was good - only in that we aren't in the red come April 15th, 2009. We made a fair amount of money last year and because we have little in reserves it feels as if we are living hand to mouth - paycheck to paycheck. And it kinda freaks me out a bit. I'll manage. We'll manage. Even though we're like 90% of the rest of the United States, we've both got our jobs and we've all got health insurance. And I've planted a garden. We're resourceful people and we can do anything we set our minds to.

Which reminds me. I haven't recently told you of my weight loss expedition. I've been at it since way back in August when I realized, out of sheer necessity, on a shopping excursion, that my bra size was a 34DDD. Yes, folks that is a TRIPLE D. READ: Thank you Nordstrom Lingerie Department for simply revealing the fact that I have really freaking big boobs. Now, you may say that it's not a big deal. Lots of people have big boobs. Hey now; I am not a tall woman - in sheer inches - a 34DDD was stretching it a bit. After all, I haven't been breastfeeding for more than 2 years.

A couple of serious self-talk conversations later and I's at a WeightWatchers meeting. Okay, I really got some support from Wood too and now...

I've lost nearly 20 lbs. But as of this afternoon, only one D.

I'm on a mission to lose 15 or so more lbs and two D's. Stay tuned.

Chicken Payback

Fun, fun, fun!

Alter Ego Found in a Google Search...

"Wonelle became, like so many other vigilantes before her, an overzealous defender of peace and justice. Her sense of just ice compels her to take bounties only on those who fit her definition of evil, but her Hippocratic Programming prevents her from lethally damaging her quarries."

April suggested in a recent post that you type in “[your name] looks like” (among other things) in a Google search and see what you get. Wonelle isn't as common as say April in the name category and most of my search results came back with my Conversations blog posts. But the one above was kinda cool. Especially because it's supposedly a fictional gaming character with special character abilities. And I don't do gaming. At all.

More Random Things About Me

While cleaning out the 'drafts' folder of my email-box yesterday, I ran across this random things list that I wrote - some time ago - in response to a post on someone else's blog, I think. Even though I posted another "Random Things About Me" post recently, I decided to add this one as well because it was rather interesting to see how similar the two were. And how different they are too. Maybe people that know me already know these things. Or, maybe I'm more #11 than I'd like to admit to myself....

1. I'm addicted to reading It's Friday...
2. It took me a very long to remember some things that happened in the year 1989. But once I did, I remembered that it was a turning point year for me.
   
3. I reflect a lot, suffer despite it, and more often than not, focus on the negative stuff.
4. I've tackled a few nasty demons in my lifetime.
5. I don't think I'm negative by nature, I think those demons sometimes get the best of me. Despite them I laugh, love and enjoy life.
6. I have lot's of my own philosophies and I'll share them with you if you want. Like this one: you can ask me any question you want however, I reserve the right to not answer it. Oh yeah, I'll share my philosophies with you even if you don't want.
7. People will often describe me as Sassy. Or Difficult or Bitchy or intense, or something equally negative. I agree to being all of those things and more - they're some of my better qualities.
8. I always tell the Truth. Even if it stings. Sometimes even when it's not in my best interest to do so.
9. I've been learning to hold my tongue. Even if it hurts. Especially if it's in someone else's best interest for me to do so.
10. Some people often annoy me to no end. I'm sure the feeling is mutual.
11. Yea, there are moments that I'm full of myself.
12. For many years I had a bumper sticker on my car that said "the more people I meet, the more I like my cat".
13. Sometimes I'm lonely.
14. The best thing I ever did was talk myself into a low-paying part-time receptionist job at a start-up new-media school.
15. I met this really cool guy there. Actually, I met more than one cool guy there - but I met the most important cool guy of my life because I worked there.
16. The next best thing I did was make a killer bare handed catch and throw as catcher to throw the runner out first base. That's when my Boyfriend knew he'd be my Husband. It was glorious on both accounts.
17. To date, the day my Husband and I got married was the single best day of my life.
18. My Husband revels in my sassiness and I revel in him because of it.
19. From the time I was really young, I wanted to be married and have 4 Boys.
20. Just before I found out that I was pregnant, I thought seriously that my Husband and I could be happy without kids.
    
21. I was relieved (actually, elated) when the Ultrasound Technician said the baby was a boy.
22. For me, being a Mom isn't and hasn't been all it's cracked up to be.
23. My mom was, but wasn't, a Fabulous Mom. She was a wreck. Still is.
24. I was severely depressed for the first two years of my son's life. Not so much anymore.
25. Breastfeeding was horrible.
26. My kid is one of the best people I've ever met. Not because he came from me, either. I could tell when I was pregnant he was something special (and probably going to be a drummer).
    
27. I want to be a Fabulous Mom. No... I want my son to think of me as a Fabulous Mom.
28. Catty girls (or women), cliques, and the like don't do it for me. Play straight and fair or prepare to be told about yourself.
29. I'll avoid a fight whenever possible. Except when I can't. After those fights, I'll try to make sense of the senselessness.
30. Some days, I miss being lonely. And being able to go to the gym whenever I want, and to take a shower alone, and read books all day and all night long, and do art, and have sex with reckless abandon like I once did.
31. My favorite move of all time is the Black and White version of Elephant Man.
    
32. Growing up my initials were MR. The kids teased me and said I was Mentally Retarded.
    
33. The better part of my career has been working with people considered to be Mentally Retarded. I'm not special or patient for working with "those" people, thank-you-very-much. Please don't say that - I think it's just plain rude.
34. Once, when I was hungry, I decided to try Sushi. I figured, "I've never tried Japanese food before". Sushi is my favorite food on the face of the earth! Well, so far. I'll try just about anything once. Food is good.
35. The Sushi Chef that fed me Japanese food for the first time walked me down the aisle.
    
36. I love a good adventure.
    

Tuckered...

I'm not angry anymore. It's interesting what a bit of time can do. Well, time and a good temper-tantrum.

Wood has agreed to give up a bit of responsibility in one thing in order to take on some more in another. Apparently I will not even notice the other (newest) obligation as meetings will take place during the workday.

Fine. Really; in my heart of hearts I know he wants to partake in additional activities that will improve his professional standing. And in all honesty, I want to support that. It's just hard to adjust to the changes.

What is a real struggle lately is the rage - yes, an unadulterated and fierce rage - emanating from our most adorable 4.5 year old. We aren't sure exactly where it comes from but when it does, it's complete with running, throwing, hitting, kicking, spitting, and biting. It's generally directed at me. It's generally something that lasts longer than I have energy for. And it's an emotional roller coaster.

My reproductive dreams aren't recurring lately. They are quelled by my husband's seeming unwillingness to discuss the subject of a 'numero dos' and the anger of Twig; the fear that we don't have what it takes to manage him as it is, and the wonder that surfaces sometimes after our super-duper intense start-and-stop-on-a-dime battles with him: will the bi-polar disorder my father had be present in the life of my offspring?

At the same time I feel stronger than I've felt in a while. My asthma which has been terribly out of control for months now seems to be responding to new medication. My husband seems to be in sync with his feelings of wanting to move on from his current employer - and willing to act on those feelings. I've been working out a few times a week - even lost 17 lbs (only about 17 more to go) - and my back pain seems to be a bit less intense.

But I'm beat. More literally than otherwise. I wonder if tomorrow there will be bruises on my face or simply remnants of my bruised ego. I'm gonna sleep on it and get back to you later.

Delayed Reaction: Furious

I'm furious.

Exactly which part of "Don't you DARE [take on another elected position/work responsibility]!" do you think didn't get through?

Every last freaking bit of it.

It took me almost a full day to become one with it. But man am I pissed.

He said he called to tell them he couldn't do it. But she already put his name on the ballot. Asked him to run anyway and if he won to resign. She was worried that they would run unopposed if he didn't.

What was he supposed to do? That was his question of me. And I didn't even get mad when he said it. I knew in my heart of hearts that he wanted to do it.

Clearly she saw him coming a mile away: New, young guy that probably wants to go places. I can rope him in...

She did just that. Their slate ran un-freaking-opposed. He was a god-damned shoe in.

Worst part of it all: my husband does not resign.

So I'm seeing red: again, family comes second. Or at least that's how it seems. And again, home comes last.

Now, even if we wanted to, we don't have the time to take a vacation. Finish the 'Man Room', socialize, or anything else that doesn't resemble work.

Whoever that b*tch is that manipulated my husband into doing this - I swear I'll beat her ass when I meet her.

Oh, he's gonna get it, too. Don't you worry.

25 Random Things About Me...

I've never participated in a Meme, until now. When it came my way, I almost didn't do it. It felt weird at first. But then as I considered it more, it began to become interesting...to think about what random things 1) other people might find interesting and 2) that I'd really like to share about myself on the internet. It got my mind working and my fingers typing, writing something that isn't work related. It was kinda fun.

Since I finished, I've been thinking that the idea writing of "25 random things about me" could be modified (thanks to a couple of friends) to write 25 things about a particular person, point in time, or subject - to really remember something important - and then use it as a starting off point for a story. Yeah. A story.

Please feel free to write your own 25 things and share. That would be interesting, too.

1. I found myself when I found myself in Fresno.

2. I'm a "glass half-empty" kinda gal. It's not really my nature to be that way. It's really the way of my nurture.

3. I met my dad at a Walgreen's Coffee Shop in a shopping Mall when I was 11 years old.

4. In 1985 I was the only - and probably the first ever - girl to take wood shop in my high school. The instructor "Dick" (No, really), had to re-think his response to kids asking to go to the bathroom when it came to me. He realized that he couldn't tell me to put a rubber band on it.

5. In high school also I drove a $300 puke orange 1971 Ford Pinto (yes, the kind that exploded if rear-ended), partook in a few less than desirable activities, dated a guy 5 years older than me, and worked in a toy shop as a gift wrapper.

6. My step-dad would never stop to let me go to the bathroom when we were on family road-trips. No matter how much I cried, begged, and pleaded. He'd say "at the next exit" and every time, he'd pass it by. I thought he was being a mean, horrible, and awful person. Then I grew up and began to understand what it must have been like to be an interracial couple in the 70's.

7. It felt good to be on television spouting liberalism while at the same time serving country club folk who underwrote, in the form of automatic 18% gratuities, my non-work time activities. Yes it did.

8. Boys are better than girls. Mostly. There are a few exceptions.

9. I share my birthday with George Carlin, Burt Bacharac, Florence Nightingale, Katharine Hepburn, and one of my best friends - Bridget.

10. My BEFRI talked me into attending community college. She convinced me that the toy-shop gig wasn't going to take me where I wanted to go. Despite the fact that I had no idea where the hell that was...

11. Growing up, the library was my sanctuary. I love telling my son: "we can find out more about that - I'm sure there's a book at the library."

12. Can you imagine, playing the flute (2nd chair), smoking cigarettes, and being asthmatic...concurrently?

13. I like rules, boundaries, and structure. Except when it doesn't suit me. And it used to not suit me most of the time. I'm a little older and wiser now.

14. This meme thing has been a great way to practice remembering.

15. I blog in relative anonymity. I want to write my story and have it read in relative celebrity. I'd love to get comments from readers more often (although, I adore the ones I get from a couple of regular readers!).

16. I'm the oldest of 6; 3 are siblings by marriage and 2 by blood. But technically, I'm an only child.

17. Being called a "disobedient wench" was one of the best compliments I've ever received.

18. I once saw a tarot reader who said I'd be very lucky throughout my life. Past, present, future - she was right on.

19. The best day of my life was the day I married Wood. I make a conscious decision to be married every waking moment of every day. Because we can make 'this' be anything we want it to be. That's the benefit of having few good role models. You know what you don't want to do.

20. I'm competitive. Mostly with myself. I often strive to be a type B+ personality.

21. I want to travel the world. Anywhere - everywhere...

22. I have a dream of living in NY, NY.

23. Pregnancy, labor, delivery, and breastfeeding were the most difficult things I've ever done with my body.

24. Whenever considering names for a child it is important to test not only the way the full name sounds in the fit of a parent's anger, but also in the fit of a lover's passion. They grow up and do grown up things after all.

25. You can ask me anything you want to. And while I'll very likely answer any questions with complete and utter honesty, I always reserve the right to refuse to answer. Just in case.

26. I'm not good at following rules. I'll probably keep adding to this list. Maybe someday it'll be 100 random things about me...

Thanks for reading.

More Dreams

Had the dream again the other night. Except this time I wasn't strong and ready to give birth.

I was busy helping a friend work toward getting a new job, moving toward a place where she would be able to get what she wanted in her life. Coaching, supporting, guiding toward a new and necessary place. So that we could find our way on to writing a new, exciting, happier chapter in our relationship.

But the pregnant part was, well, more like my real life experience was with Twig. Not so strong, not so womanly, not so sure about this whole being a mommy thing. The labor wasn't entirely right and my support system, was irrelevant. My bow-tie wearing OB wasn't around. I was alone in a dark and lonely place. Unsure of what I was undertaking and completely on my own to do it.

It was downright Scary. Just like real life can be.

And that's pretty much a metaphor for my life right now. Wood wants a new gig. I want another baby. He's willing to talk about it. I'm scared of being alone in my desire and if he's also interested, incapable of getting what I want because of my health, psychological state, age, or any other intangible and unpredictable reason. I ain't no spring chicken any more. I have considered that "middle age" number looming large in a few months could be spurring this on a little bit.

But the truth is that it's not a logical desire. It's biological. Mostly. I've been watching way too much Learning Channel TV, I guess. These people and other middle-america folk like 'em make me a little uncomfortable. On the one hand they've helped me remember that I've always wanted a large family! (four boys was what I always told my mom) On the other, that I believe that we, the left-leaning-tree-hugging-birkenstock-wearing-critical thinking-granola-ites that we are should have more kids! YES, really, we should. Frankly, I think it's rather irresponsible not to have more than one kid. Or worse yet, only a cat or a dog. Especially when they and many of their friends are having small villages all by their little lonesomes. They're growing an army of conservative voters.

Our friends' pets, treated better than some children of this world (nevertheless love 'em to death), can't vote!

You heard me correctly. My desire to have another little rug-rat that will simply complicate my life in oh-so-many ways I can't begin to fathom, is not only physical. It's Political.

But that's all of the words I have on the subject for right now. It's not too well argued. I apologize for that.

Memories

They said I'd never forget. Well, I haven't. I'm sure I never will.

Yet, there's this recurring dream that wakes me up every few weeks. I had it again last night.

I'm pregnant. Feeling the baby move. Big belly, glowing, strong, healthy, ready to give birth.

We decided a long time ago - as a couple - that we didn't want to do the new-parent thing again. Really, we talked about all of the pros and cons and financial considerations and decided quite rationally that it's something we don't want to do.

But this dream keeps waking me up. And it's not just a night-time dream. I think. So when it woke me this morning, I told Wood about it.

"So is that what you want, to be pregnant?

"I don't think so. I mean, when I think rationally about all of the things that being pregnant means, it's pretty easy to talk myself out of it. But, at the same time, I want a different experience. But that's not rational, and even though I don't understand it completely, you don't want to do it again.

"So, you're saying that you want to have another kid but you've not talked to me about it because I said don't want to do it?

"Well, yeah, you don't want to. Besides, do you enjoy being a parent?

"Yeah! I do. But I don't know about managing everything - I don't do well with all of the pressure.

My sister and I talked today. Turns out that last night she had a dream that I was pregnant.

Weird.

I decided a few weeks ago that I want to write my story. Wood laughed and said he was sure it was a fleeting thought. That I was high on the success of my friend that has recently had her first book published.

At first it was going to be "15-20, for life". It would be about those formative years spent trying have an adult relationship and failing miserably, only to find those experiences as the impetus for a completely different life. I've been thinking about it (pen name or real? in secrecy or public? to friends or family? How much of *my* truth to write? what about the blank spaces, how do I fill those in? Memoir? Novel? Story? Happy ending? I started another blog page but haven't posted yet.). I'm still trying to get past the laughter that emanated from he who is my life partner now, to find the thesis statement - my voice - for 15-20 for life. But it's not 15-20 for life. It's much more than that.

I can't quite get the total story yet. I think it starts somewhere in an oh-so-safe-suburban home where an 8 year old girl writes about her life and frustrations with complete and utter honesty in her notebook only get an ass-whoopin' that haunts her ability to write to this day. "So, you think suburbia's safe, huh?"

I'm trying to give birth. To something brave, strong, healthy and true. It's a story. And maybe a baby too.

No resolutions but maybe revelations...

As my boy sleeps, and my husband works, I clean the house. Cleaning and organizing the bathroom, medicine closet, toy chest, desk - is the time when I collect and organize my thoughts.

I've been off work for the past 10 days. My "vacation" is spent at home with Twig because his school is on Winter Holiday and the Holiday Season is the busiest time of year at Wood's work.

Only one of our play dates worked out due to the illnesses of other kids, and my list of things to do: build corner bookshelves for Twig's room. When I mentioned it to Wood he said "You, and power tools?" So I asked a friend of ours who's been remodeling his entire kitchen to help me. His response was "Sure. But why doesn't Wood do it?" We met and did most of the work on Tuesday.

Twig was a bit of a handful Thursday and Friday. Turns out his power surge was the precursor to being sick with a cough and stuffy nose. By Sunday he had an elevated temperature, the day before I'm supposed to go back to work.

I planned to go to my Weight Watchers meeting and the Gym on Saturday morning. As I was preparing to leave, Wood said "Don't go. I'll miss you." I had an amazing 4.2 lb. weight loss, ran into the wife of a friend who I'd like to spend more time with, and had a fantastic workout - 45 minutes of cardio and a bunch of stretching.

Saturday night I hung out with a couple of friends. Wood was melancholy as soon as I began to get ready for my departure - by putting Twig to bed.

It feels good taking care of myself.

When we discussed the fact that Twig would not go to school on Monday, it was almost without hesitation that I was to be the one staying home. I sort of set it up that way - offered to stay home on Monday because I have to work on Tuesday. Wood certainly did not argue. If anything, he kept quiet.

This morning I asked if there was any way he'd be able to come home early so I could go to work for a couple of hours. After all, I have been off and nearly 100% responsible for parenting for the past 10 days. Yes, it was my fault that I was on again today - I should have expected him to stay home. But, I guess in a typical female sort of way, I wanted him to step up to the plate and say "No, no. You've been home for the last 10 days. You need to go to work, I'll stay home." But he didn't. And he probably never will.

I think he's depressed, unhappy and lonely. Disinterested in being a parent. And he's so much more emotional and sensitive than I'd ever imagined.

He isn't talking about it - with me or anyone. Instead he drinks a couple of drinks a day, has been asking for sex continuously, and is generally nasty to me and Twig. Based upon his recent netflix activity (I'm through with white girls - for this longtime commitment-phobe to settle down, he'll have to drastically change his ways; Romance and Cigarettes - this twist on the not-so-ordinary tale of adultery and salvation; The Big Bad Swim - follows the life-altering journeys of soon-to-be-divorced schoolteacher, stripper, and swim instructor Noah. Held back by their past heartbreaks, the three learn that sometimes the only way to move on is to take a really big plunge.), I'd say something is going on.

God forbid I'm cleaning the bathroom and he sideswipes me.

Power Surge

Why in the world do we take young children to the grocery store? Besides the obvious need to buy food to feed them and keep them alive?

We did have a discussion before we got out of the car about what we were going to buy (soyrizo, tortillas, cheese, tomatoes and fruit). We did let him walk and ride the cart until he nearly knocked it over on top of some poor unsuspecting lady trying to choose sweet potatoes. We did explain that we had to pay for and wash the apple before eating it. But he didn't quit.

We were doing pretty well in the produce section. Even though he was saying, at the top of his lungs, "Mommy, I want cheese... I want a smoothie... I want a sandwich... I want a ripe mango..." all the while bouncing around in the cart like a caged wild animal trying to escape. But by the time we made it to the refrigerated prepackaged salsa section, my requests to "Please sit down and stop grabbing at the food." were falling on deaf ears.

You undoubtedly know how this goes... There are five things on your list. The plan is to get in and out of the store as quickly as possible. But the kid starts in, and your spouse is asking questions. There are people to dodge, there are labels to read and choices to make. And somethings gotta give.

In this particular instance, I didn't forget anything on my list. Instead, while looking directly into his eyes I said "Damn it Twig, you need to stop because I'm about ready to knock you up-side your head!" Just then, I looked up to see a complete stranger give me a look of sheer disgust. Her face said it all: "You are an awful-horrible-parent-person-and-I-don't-like-your-tone." Just before I turned around and walked away from the cart and my lack of parenting skill, I'm sure that my face said to her something like "and if you keep looking at me, you're next bitch."

Wood took over right about then. I grabbed salsa, tortilla chips and cheese and we all got in line as quickly as possible.

We should have known better than to take a nap-free 4 year old to the market after riding bikes at the park for nearly an hour and a half. We should have known he was due for a 'power surge'.

Random Things About Wonelle

Unedited so sorry for any redundancies.

1. I found myself when I found myself in Fresno.
2. I'm a "glass half-empty" kinda gal. It's not really my nature to be that way. It's really the way of my nurture.
3. I met my dad at a Walgreen's Coffee Shop in a shopping Mall when I was 11 years old.
4. . In 1985 I was the only - and probably the first ever - girl to take wood shop in my high school. The instructor "Dick" (No, really), had to re-think his response to kids asking to go to the bathroom when it came to me. He realized that he couldn't tell me to put a rubber band on it.
5. In high school also I drove a $300 puke orange 1971 Ford Pinto (yes, the kind that exploded if rear-ended), partook in a few less than desirable activities, dated a guy 5 years older than me, and worked in a toy shop as a gift wrapper.
6. My step-dad would never stop to let me go to the bathroom when we were on family road-trips. No matter how much I cried, begged, and pleaded. He'd say "at the next exit" and every time, he'd pass it by. I thought he was being a mean, horrible, and awful person. Then I grew up and began to understand what it must have been like to be an interracial couple in the 70's.
7. It felt good to be on television spouting liberalism while at the same time serving country club folk who underwrote, in the form of automatic 18% gratuities, my non-work time activities. Yes it did.
8. Boys are better than girls. Mostly. There are a few exceptions.
9. I share my birthday with George Carlin, Burt Bacharac, Florence Nightingale, Katharine Hepburn, and one of my best friends - Bridget.
10. My BEFRI talked me into attending community college. She convinced me that the toy-shop gig wasn't going to take me where I wanted to go. Despite the fact that I had no idea where the hell that was...
11. Growing up, the library was my sanctuary. I love telling my son: "we can find out more about that - I'm sure there's a book at the library."
12. Can you imagine, playing the flute (2nd chair), smoking cigarettes, and being asthmatic...concurrently?
13. I like rules, boundaries, and structure. Except when it doesn't suit me. And it used to not suit me most of the time. I'm a little older and wiser now.
14. This meme thing has been a great way to practice remembering.
15. I blog in relative anonymity. I want to write my story and have it read in relative celebrity. I'd love to get comments from readers more often (although, I adore the ones I get from a couple of regular readers!).
16. I'm the oldest of 6; 3 are siblings by marriage and 2 by blood. But technically, I'm an only child.
17. Being called a "disobedient wench" was one of the best compliments I've ever received.
18. I once saw a tarot reader who said I'd be very lucky throughout my life. Past, present, future - she was right on.
19. The best day of my life was the day I married Wood. I make a conscious decision to be married every waking moment of every day. Because we can make 'this' be anything we want it to be. That's the benefit of having few good role models. You know what you don't want to do.
20. I'm competitive. Mostly with myself. I often strive to be a type B+ personality.
21. I want to travel the world. Anywhere - everywhere...
22. I have a dream of living in NY, NY.
23. Pregnancy, labor, delivery, and breastfeeding were the most difficult things I've ever done with my body.
24. Whenever considering names for a child it is important to test not only the way the full name sounds in the fit of a parent's anger, but also in the fit of a lover's passion. They grow up and do grown up things after all.
25. You can ask me anything you want to. And while I'll very likely answer any questions with complete and utter honesty, I always reserve the right to refuse to answer. Just in case.
26. I'm not good at following rules. I'll probably keep adding to this list. Maybe someday it'll be 100 random things about me..
27. I'm addicted to reading It's Friday...
28. It took me a very long to remember some things that happened in the year 1989. But once I did, I remembered that it was a turning point year for me.
29. I reflect a lot, suffer despite it, and more often than not, focus on the negative stuff.
30. I've tackled a few nasty demons in my lifetime.
31. I don't think I'm negative by nature, I think those demons sometimes get the best of me. Despite them I laugh, love and enjoy life.
32. I have lot's of my own philosophies and I'll share them with you if you want. Like this one: you can ask me any question you want however, I reserve the right to not answer it. Oh yeah, I'll share my philosophies with you even if you don't want.
33. People will often describe me as Sassy. Or Difficult or Bitchy or intense, or something equally negative. I agree to being all of those things and more - they're some of my better qualities.
34. I always tell the Truth. Even if it stings. Sometimes even when it's not in my best interest to do so.
35. I've been learning to hold my tongue. Even if it hurts. Especially if it's in someone else's best interest for me to do so.
36. Some people often annoy me to no end. I'm sure the feeling is mutual.
37. Yea, there are moments that I'm full of myself.
38. For many years I had a bumper sticker on my car that said "the more people I meet, the more I like my cat".
39. Sometimes I'm lonely.
40. The best thing I ever did was talk myself into a low-paying part-time receptionist job at a start-up new-media school.
41. I met this really cool guy there. Actually, I met more than one cool guy there - but I met the most important cool guy of my life because I worked there.
42. The next best thing I did was make a killer bare handed catch and throw as catcher to throw the runner out first base. That's when my Boyfriend knew he'd be my Husband. It was glorious on both accounts.
43. To date, the day my Husband and I got married was the single best day of my life.
44. My Husband revels in my sassiness and I revel in him because of it.
45. From the time I was really young, I wanted to be married and have 4 Boys.
46. Just before I found out that I was pregnant, I thought seriously that my Husband and I could be happy without kids.
    
47. I was relieved (actually, elated) when the Ultrasound Technician said the baby was a boy.
48. For me, being a Mom isn't and hasn't been all it's cracked up to be.
49. My mom was, but wasn't, a Fabulous Mom. She was a wreck. Still is.
50. I was severely depressed for the first two years of my son's life. Not so much anymore.
51. Breastfeeding was horrible.
52. My kid is one of the best people I've ever met. Not because he came from me, either. I could tell when I was pregnant he was something special (and probably going to be a drummer).
    
53. I want to be a Fabulous Mom. No... I want my son to think of me as a Fabulous Mom.
54. Catty girls (or women), cliques, and the like don't do it for me. Play straight and fair or prepare to be told about yourself.
55. I'll avoid a fight whenever possible. Except when I can't. After those fights, I'll try to make sense of the senselessness.
56. Some days, I miss being lonely. And being able to go to the gym whenever I want, and to take a shower alone, and read books all day and all night long, and do art, and have sex with reckless abandon like I once did.
57. My favorite move of all time is the Black and White version of Elephant Man.
    
58. Growing up my initials were MR. The kids teased me and said I was Mentally Retarded.
    
59. The better part of my career has been working with people considered to be Mentally Retarded. I'm not special or patient for working with "those" people, thank-you-very-much. Please don't say that - I think it's just plain rude.
60. Once, when I was hungry, I decided to try Sushi. I figured, "I've never tried Japanese food before". Sushi is my favorite food on the face of the earth! Well, so far. I'll try just about anything once. Food is good.
61. The Sushi Chef that fed me Japanese food for the first time walked me down the aisle.
    
62. I love a good adventure.

Synapse Lapse

For the life of me, I could not muster any of the brainpower needed today to shop at IKEA - IKEA, people. It's IKEA, you say? NO! There's no excuse - Twig decided that he wanted to go to IKEA's childwatch so that I could shop alone. Of course I let him go - free childcare?!

I simply wandered around the store with only the memory of a memory of what I wanted, much less needed, to get to work on Twig's bedroom project that's been clamoring around my mind. Just like the faint, illegible marks on a chalkboard after it's been erased, my mind wouldn't let me see anything - everything was all smeared together; dirty, cloudy and dusty.

My mind is gone. Gone, I tell you. And no, this is not temporary. It happens all the bleeping time.

Even when I do have the time and space to think - unencumbered by the clamor of my family - my ideas don't form into anything substantive. And don't even mention the times when I'm getting paid to use my melon, or when I have an audience (especially of my peers) - things get even worse.

That word, you know the one... that fantabulous SAT word worth, like, 100 points, that used to sit there on the tip of my tongue for a second or two and then find it's way into the conversation at the perfect time, with the perfect cadence...well, it can't seem to make the four inch journey from my head to my mouth. My words aren't anywhere near my tongue any more. They must be in my little pinkie toe.

What the you-know-what? I'm not pregnant so that's an unreasonable excuse. No longer breastfeeding. I'm not 40 (yet).

Jeez.

Treasured Time

A week or so ago I got a bug-up-my-butt to build corner shelves for Twig's room. Wood's not interested in doing such a project with me. Maybe he doesn't want me using 'his' tools. Who knows? So, I asked a friend who has been rebuilding his entire kitchen to help me out.

Sure, I absolutely could have done it on my own. But it would have taken 4 times as long and created 20 times the frustration. And it's something I've always done with the men in my life. Mom's first husband, Mr. T (and the boys) in High School Wood Shop, Crooked Nose Tom, Uncle Mike, Wood, and now, Twig and Eee.

Working on this project made me think of the times spent with these great people. I miss Crooked Nose Tom in particular. He was quite the craftsman, and we spent some of our best father-daughter time re-finishing furniture, building beautiful and functional things, in his little garage workshop.

Since the project is a little less than half done, there will probably be more on this subject. Actually, there will be a photo at least.

Finding our voices

Last night, I had a dream about needing to quit smoking, an appointment with the doctor, and being pregnant with another September baby. It was at the exact same time hubbie was having a dream that someone was breaking into our house (and - accidentally - hit me in the face).

So, I went to an on-line dream dictionary and learned that smoking really means that I have trouble letting people in my life. What I really need to do is stop trying to shield myself and others from my emotions (that could be dangerous).

The Doctor could be one of three things; strife amongst members of my family (check), a need for emotional and spiritual healing (check); it could be highlighting some medical concerns (check) and/or indicate the need for a check up (can you say Asthma out of control?).

The pregnancy piece is a bit more complicated. I think for me it represents the "birth of a new idea, direction, project or goal". When I told Wood about it, he laughed at me. The dream interpretation also said that pregnancy may also symbolize some aspect of my personal life that is growing or changing. And while I can't identify exactly what that could be at the moment, the piece of the dream that included the month of September apparently signifies a positive outlook - even good luck and fortune. I think that's very nice.

On the other hand, Wood is dreaming of our home being broken into is a bit disconcerting. This is what the website says about that: To dream that your house is broken into, suggests that you are feeling violated. It may refer to a particular relationship or current situation in your life. Alternatively, it indicates that some unconscious material is attempting to make itself known. There are some aspects of yourself that you have denied. I hope he figures it out and moves forward.

I'm busy thinking about my strategy.

Underlying psychosis

I received my long-awaited copies of Sweet Charlotte's Seventh Mistake today and was consumed with reading every single page the moment I got home.

"Wow, I've never seen you this way before" Said Hubbie.

"That's not true; I was like this when your mom turned me on to the Octavia Butler books. Remember? It was before Twig."

Reading the Flowers in the Attic books as a teenager, I was exactly the same way. Compulsive and mesmerized.

This is the same. But different.

I'm mesmerized by the story not just because it's written by someone I know. But because it's the story of someone that I know that I knew way back when. No, more like she knew her.

We're not them anymore. And still she can't be conjured up (or maybe she won't be conjured up). The compulsion centers on the possibility that reading and re-reading her memories and studying her photos will miraculously allow some deeply buried memory to break through. To allow a breakthrough - before something unexpected surfaces and she rages like she would have, way back when.

It's got me thinking... maybe she can't remember for the same reasons her memories are so vivid. Could it be that each is a form of acceptance of what was and what could never be?

No. Her fears have been faced; published for the whole world to see. She's simply afraid to unearth... something...

A Stitch In Time

As I wrote Two Decades, the sadness crept it's way into me again. Indeed, I had set most of it aside as I read the email. I was at work after all and even though I have an office with a door, it simply was an inappropriate time to experience the crusty and oh-so-complex feelings around the man that I fell in love with (at first sight) when I was 15 years old.

By the time I clicked the PUBLISH POST button, the tears were unsuspectingly welling up just as they had when I read his response. As I re-read the post to ensure there weren't too many obvious errors that needed to be edited after the fact, my cheeks were well streaked. Despite the fact that I was the parent-of-the-morning-on-duty and that I had closed the laptop (as if doing so would shield me from the surge building), it all came pouring out. Hoping for a few moments to feel (and process) in private, and that the shower would be less enticing than toys, I mustered up all the strength in my gut to tell Twig with my usual voice that I was going to bathe. Thank god he was engrossed in something.

The process of shampoo, detangling solution, soaping up and rinsing off was slower than usual as I sobbed and gasped for air during the entire routine. When I stepped out, my face, staring back at me in the mirror, was unfamiliar. I don't recognize, nor understand, me at this moment.

The last time I experienced such a wave of unbridled emotion was a couple of years ago when my Dad died. And about 6 years before that when my step dad died.

But my First Love is not dead. And as you know, he never was.

The truth is that our relationship was so tumultuous that when I was done, I walked away and never looked back.

Until. An. Email. About celebrating the marriage of our friends. A marriage that's lasted almost 20 years... And because of it, I've regressed to the age of 20.

He and I made big plans together and then walked away from them. We didn't honor our promises to one another. We moved on, made new lives for ourselves.

But we never sat down and had a cup of coffee together (who cares that I didn't even drink coffee back then). We never decompressed.

The bridge burned. The embers died, ashes blew away. Nothing here and now resembles anything that was and yet...

Two Decades

Jewelery and her Beau got married almost 20 years ago. Jewlery and I were best friends, Beau and He were really good friends.

He and I moved in together about one month before the wedding. Three weeks later I was done and promptly left. It was a tumultuous relationship. The ending was too.

I was her maid of honor. He was in the Wedding party too.

It could have been explosive. It was exciting though; Beau's brother and I started a thing the day of the wedding.

Fast forward four marriages, 7 kids, and 20 years. (just those of us from the wedding party and written of here)

I did an exhaustive internet search for Him a few years ago. I was obsessed with the thought of having a cup of coffee with him. It was a monumentally important relationship. Some questions still bounce around in my head. It wasn't always bad all of the time. Or was it? Time and perspective could be interesting concepts to explore with Him.

I never did anything with the contact information that I found. I purposefully lost it. He lives in the same place as he always did. Jewlery tells me what she knows every now and again - if my curiosity gets the best of me - and I happen to ask her.

He and Beau aren't on talking terms. Me and Beau aren't either. Jewelery and I don't talk as much as we would like to. . That's what happens over 30 years of knowing other people. Relationships become complicated.

I searched for Him again last week. He wasn't anywhere on the internet.

Eventually I found His wife.

I wrote to him, via his wife, about the pending 20 year wedding anniversary. I didn't think about it much, I just hit Send.

Hey Won-elle,

I received a call from my Wife today. She asked if I know a Wonelle? With a puzzled inquiry, I said "who?" She then started to read the email. After a few sentences I knew what was up. It's great hearing from you... I was happy to hear that you are doing well with your family.

Thanks for tracking us down. I hope all is well.

Regards,

As soon as I read the salutation, tears filled my eyes. So personal - but not. As I read on, the tears streamed down my face.

It's been 20 years and it seems even more complicated than ever.

Catch Up

I'm late on posting - having a tough time keeping up with all things Wonelle. But this came to my inbox the other day and I immediately thought "now there's an 'Angle'." and Hey! Now that I think about it, this could also pass for Nature, too! Okay - despite the fact that this is not mine - I'm caught up! WOOO! HOOO!

Please implore everyone you know to VOTE!

Faded Circa 1994

Thematic Photographic - Installment II

In my final semester of college, I decided to take a fun class. After three years of more-than-full-time studies, political activism, and working two jobs, I needed a creative outlet. I chose photography - the class was black and white and required all students to have a manual camera and 35mm film.

I don't remember the exact assignment given but I do remember the outcome... one very early Sunday morning I drove South in search of my subject. This is a digital picture that simply doesn't do justice to the original - the side of a rail car that was parked in a (thank-god-I-didn't-know-it-at-the-time) dangerous train yard frequented by some of the most dangerous gangs in central California. Although It was completely deserted while I was there, I wasn't entirely comfortable and got the hell out of dodge as soon as the picture was snapped.

Turns out this photo is one of two taken that day. Also turns out that these (Installment III will be posted later this week) were two of 5 photographs chosen by my instructor (among all classes of all levels) to be displayed in the student art exhibition that year. It was the first time in the history of the University that photography was a medium worthy of display at such an event. Thanks Written, Inc. for reminding me of this interest. It's a bunch of fun.

Faded

This is Twig's take on this week's Thematic Photographic. I came across this beautiful dinosaur after downloading our pictures from the point and shoot. I was looking for something that I had recently taken and found this! The best part of posting this for y'all to see is that I am excited to say that I am sure he staged it on the kitchen table before he snapped it. Interestingly, it's not one in a series (his football series was impressive) and the more he takes pictures, the more he gets what he wants from the process. I simply cropped this a bit before posting. Twig is quite the talented guy (if I do say so myself) - we are so getting him a camera for his 4th birthday (yes, peeps, he's 3).

After a full day at his new school, walking almost a mile home, riding his bike for a while, eating a huge dinner, and watching some of the boob-toob, he's now faded... knocked out snoring while I brag on. I should be faded too; my take on this fantastic theme is coming soon.

Thematic Photographic - Watery

Since writing anything takes so much time - and I have very little of that - I'm going to try to do Thematic Photographic weekly. Yes, I'll continue to try to post something daily. But this will "break it up" a bit, making the actual writing seem less daunting. Enjoy, and please join in the fun if you haven't already.

These Watery pics were taken in April 2005 in Kauai, Hawaii, to celebrate the 50th birthday of one of our friends.

Here's a quick primer on how Thematic Photographic works:

1. Every Wednesday evening, Carmi over at Written Inc. posts a new Thematic Photographic entry.
2. Each entry has a unique theme. This week's is...watery.
3. You post a similarly themed image over on your blog.
4. You paste a link to your entry in a comment here.
5. If you've already posted something that fits (on a blog, Facebook, MySpace, wherever) simply post the link to the existing entry.
6. You may post one per day, many per day, one each day of the entire week, whatever suits your fancy. This is all about sharing, so feel free to share to your heart's content!
7. Please share this link with friends, too. Carmiwants this thing to being photographic happiness to lots of people - and he needs your help.

Defining Moments

My Mother In-Law visited for a week a few weeks ago. It's always a difficult time, all of us living together under the same roof. This visit was no exception. But it was good.

A couple of times during that week I had some defining moments. Moments where something in my body and soul shifted just enough to have the strength to support some major changes.

You see, for the past 4 years or so, I've been letting myself go and all the while I've been feeling like I've lost my strength. Don't get me wrong, I've been working my tushie off - the figurative tushie more than the literal one - keeping a young child alive, tending to the needs of my work and earning a paycheck, keeping the daily flow of wake-eat-poop-work-sleep. The worst part is that I've lost a bit of my happy "Sass n' Tude" in the process.

It's not going to be like that any more. I'm taking it all back.

She didn't get away without my saying something; about how it's hard to live together, how being 3 is even harder, how we are the grown ups, and that we must talk in order to make it better - after all we're a team.

I've committed to my health and well being TOO and enlisted the support needed to get more.

I negotiated three days a week. Two weekday mornings to go to the gym and to work early and one weekend morning to do as I see fit - which is probably to go to the gym. Wood will be responsible for Twig on those mornings. Breakfast. Clothes. Teeth brushing. Hair Combing. Lunch. Getting to daycare. 100% Dad.

I've begun Acupuncture and Chinese Herbs and committed to doing so for at least two months to get ahead of how crappy I feel physically. I've been following Doctor's orders around food. Quit caffeine and alcohol.

I joined Weight Watchers. I lost 3 pounds in week 1. Damn that feels good! I'm going to lose 29 pounds more and feel even better.

Twig starts a new pre-school soon. It's less than a mile away from our house and is an excellent school. No more driving 20 miles to get to my work that's only 4 miles from my house any more!

Time, Weight Watchers, exercise, herbs and acupuncture. Slightly different focus. Better Balance.

More me.

Chicken Pox

Twig has Chicken Pox. While it's a very mild case, he is not allowed to go to school until the blisters crust over. Anywhere between 7 & 10 days from yesterday.

Thank goodness both Wood and I have supportive workplaces, paid time off, and an internet connection (not to mention a laptop courtesy of the job)... It is kinda hard to get much productive work done with a not-really sick kid in the house. So we've opted for full length feature films: The Incredibles, Ice Age, Wallace & Gromit's Curse of the Were-Rabbit, and the all too scary Bee Movie. After all, we're required to make a few concessions.

I may be creating a monster but... I'm able to write some while Twig plays "Cooking with Rosita" on the Sesame Street website. It probably would be irresponsible to take him to the park, even on such a beautiful day as today. Other people don't really want their kids exposed to Chicken Pox (although my sister tells me her friends with kids all around the same age had [enter illness here] Parties - to get them exposed and [it] over with faster) and we have also been told that we might be contagious, even though we both had chicken pox as young children.

The drag of the Pox is that Twig is supposed to start at a new preschool on the 2nd of September - this week would be his last at his "old" school; we were going to do some transition practice this week at the new school and have a "new school" party on his last day at the current school. All of this is completely unplanned and unexpected. Seems as though that's the way life goes with young kids in the house.

There are worse things!

#165

I propose a toast to my self control.
You see it crawling helpless on the floor.



Someday there will be a cure for pain.

I'll soon be back daily. Really, I'll find a way.

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!