Humanity

Halt. Who goes there? Why the hell are you here?

I stopped myself from posting this morning at 2 am. i didn’t even get out of bed to type.  it was good though, and thoroughly rambly, hitting on what its like to be married to an alcoholic, what it is like to remember that was almost 5 years ago, how fun it was to remember i have a kickass libido… what its like to be sweating in bed with a 7-year-old, what its like to be ‘happy’ that the kid who is sick now cleans up his own throwup. He even put a towel down on his own bed before he got into it. because you know, laundry.  He is 14. Oh, it was a post for the ages.

But I just lay there instead.

Every single kid in the house has been down with throw up in the past week. There are only three kids here, my hysterics aside, it is not a monkeyhouse or a bunnyhutch.

Who am i kidding? its totally a monkeyhouse here. These kids live with me, the winging-est mom of the neighborhood.  I think i have hard-and-fast rules and you know? one smudge of intelligent resistance and the gates are down. i’m talking about negotiables really, like, screens before school and things of that nature.

Although I’d be hard-pressed to think of something besides cruelty that is truly outlawed.

and, astonishingly, i still have to deal with that one anyways.  We have …children. They have the same cruelty adults do, its just less well-honed.

sigh. aren’t you glad i took my time this morning, to give you something well-crafted and thought-provoking? hmm?

I’m what is called a ‘pantser’.  I just learned about this, its a term, for real, for writers who flow ‘by the seat of their pants’.   not a lot of planning here.

i’m doing fine though, fine. i’m taking my vitamins. and i’m planning on a bath, later.

fine.

call me. someone.

 

**-oh, also discovered when the 14-year-old woke me up at 1 to tell me he was sick?  my hearing aide is broken. so i’m doing this all deaf. which you might not think is a big deal. but it is.

Humanity

I’m just sitting here.

I’ve been sleeping poorly, now, two nights in a row, unable to regulate my temperature.  So, I’m hot, I’m cold, I’m sweating and I have a headache when I wake.  This is not ideal. (she laughs hysterically)

Yesterday I called in the LM and he arrived, and I rallied.  Stood up, took a bath, got it together. Because having someone around is supposed to be a support. Who knew? I mean, really, just having him here making chitchat with the littlest while she does Barbie whoknowswhat?  Made me feel more in-control, less likely to snap in my tiredness and just made the whole thing SO MUCH GODDAMNED BETTER.

Maybe its only the times I’ve been on my own, even when married, that make me see the incredible value in presence.  I think it is. the difference that having another adult in the house can make…

I’ve made an appointment for therapy because i think i’m actually being hit by a bunch of things at once… an anniversary with LM, which freaks me right the hell out. a repetitious relationship with an ex, which saddens me every time. one kid who thinks i’m going back to the ex, eventually, still, which makes me want to vomit with guilt for all that he does not know.

and so i’m doing whirligigs here, internally.  LM is just amazing and even when I say things that potentially might undo him, he is listening and staying and holding on to me. Its astonishing, frankly.

and so, i need therapy again.

DID I MENTION IT IS SCHOOL VACATION WEEK AND WE ARE ALL HOME TOGETHER?!

except my 14 year old, who has been on two skiing trips because you know. 14. sigh. beauty and stretch.

i do love you. hope you are well.

-uwmfVacation Sickday Unwifedmotherexpletive

  • OH, and my cold or whatever this is is affecting MY HEARING, which means everything is muffled and I have to put my face into someone elses to hear. which makes mothering spectacular.
  • OH, and the fastest way to get relief is to call my ex, which gives me great anxiety.
  • OH, and school vacation. Did I say that?
  • OH, and i’m working on a childrens book and I love it, and I am too invested in imaginary illustrations already… sigh. know any agents? (hysterical laughing)

 

Divorce, Humanity

write as defiance. DEFIANCE.

so, the ex contacts me to tell me he just read the blog.  and thinks its about him.  I’ve told him enough times not to read it. that nothing, even if he is in it, is about him.  all me, all the time.  And everytime he tells me he has read it, I feel like I need to go stand in the darkest corner of the house and never write again. and sometimes I have stopped, for ages.

so today, as a mark of noticing the dropped shoulders that I got from yelling alone in my kitchen?

I write. As an act of defiance, i write, however small a piece… because he got enough out of me already, and he can’t have anything else.

and i’m not being ‘too dramatic’, or ‘angry’, i’m just showing you how I save myself these days.

the sun is bright. and i’m still allright.

Author's face UnwifedMother Expletive

 

Divorce, Humanity

the middle.

the kids are flying off to Florida tomorrow for a long weekend and a swim with some manatees.

the ex is dating, has broken up with the woman he was with immediately after leaving (foggy dates there, intentional) and it’s coming back around on me.

I don’t care. I do care. ego is involved. things are not equal. they won’t be. my kids are very lucky.

and I’m going to miss the kids a lot. its only one night more than regular that they’ll be gone from me, but the fact that they’ll be having all these first-time experiences without me is a little bit peaky. and airplanes.

and i’m having stress dreams about disrespect and the way i felt when i was married and the futile feeling that i had about my life all the time.

and i’m calling my friends and they are holding my hands, and my LM is being lovelier.

and man, there is this gift in all this… that i’m not there anymore, that he isn’t in my life anymore, that i can yell and be mad and not be constantly gaslit about my own worth and sanity.

that i forget. and remember. and yell in the empty kitchen, to myself,  ‘he is not in my life ANYMORE’. and the yelling feels right, and loosens my shoulders.

here i am.

sometimes i am mad. catch me at 9:30 at night when not one.single.kid. is making any progress towards sleep and i am a fucking harpy of doom.  totally.

and i don’t have to hear anymore about what an ‘angry person’ i am.  because i am so much more than a person who gets angry sometimes. and really, i always was.

i’m not there anymore. and the fairytale fell apart and the crying in the wedding dress is done. (i’m sure i’ll have some more moments, but.)

and i’ve got amazing kids with me all the time, and i’m allright man.  right here in the middle of all this, i’m still allright.

Breakfast Table Mess UnwifedMotherExpletive

Humanity

The enormity…

the structure of things is simple. an outline, a scaffold of right angles and sturdy support. the veinous structure of the map.

and then there are the details.

the rhythm of the heart. the out-branching, the outlier, thinner and thinner and prone to dissolution. age and wear. the curve of a doorway arch. the dirt road still in use. the ‘what’s for dinner’ call at the bus stop at 8 am…

in my brain, something snagged. A detail stuck out and hooked all the scaffolding for miles in a precarious leaning-towards a vast nothing.

I have believed, for months, that I needed a w2 from my last ‘real’ job, and today I started acting on finding it. Because an answer did not immediately fly my way, my body got anxious.  as in, my heart is still tight now, hours later, my skin was flushed hot and prickly and i was buried in shame. and this, all this, in a series of maybe 6 text/message/email exchanges. six.  (and I’m wrong. I don’t need that w2.)

simple. not simple.

i want to joke about death and taxes. i really do.

i can’t entirely figure it out.  the shame? dear god. Shame? COME ON. shame is for cain and abel. for trump, if in fact he had a heart or soul… but me? shame?

ugh. brene brown, come and get me.

Cluttered countertop UnwifedMotherExpletive

Something about being a good girl, I am sure. Following the rules. Having clear countertops. Failing. Failing at taxes, being ignorant of what you need to get by in the world. Not knowing the loopholes, not knowing the structures to climb. Not knowing what you do not know.

the enormity of all that I do not know.

biggie, out.