Tag: parenting

Humanity

Yesterday I wrote. . .

Lovelovemotherexpletive

This: The constancy with which my brain flits around?, when I want to staple it to one particular subject? damnit.

I don’t have adhd or anything even close. But man, the way my brain skitters from the things I must think, or do. Reptilian, arachnid. Disgusting and in my own flipping head. The car certainly took over great swathes of field for the past few weeks, but I’ve got work to do, and tv to avoid.

also this:

I really want to be away, in isolation someplace, and I even want it to be something I have to stretch through, struggle with. I think I need to face myself. Label the parts of me that flit and merge and morph. I think the slips of paper will coalesce into something I can understand more.

me. yesterday, 12/6/22

I’m grateful for woodstoves. Coffee. Soft clothing.

I’m grateful that I’ve started to hold real boundaries. That I can see that they are good for me, that they hold me to the standard of protecting myself, in a healthy way. I’m grateful that I can rely on my sense of humor, even when I don’t know how I can possibly be accessing it. I’m just glad that I can walk through the world like I can.

I’m grateful for the time and the space I’ve had these last 7 years. This ability to ‘not work’, pay my bills and watch the kids grow, all because I married someone who now makes a lot of money. How ’bout that. I suppose I am supposed to stretch and say I’m glad I married him. Sigh. Working on it.

So glad of them, though, so unblemished a gratitude… so grateful that they exist, so proud that I find them so interesting and funny and full of heart.

pile of covered books
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

All in one day, folks. All in one day. It’s astonishing I’ve not won the Pulitzer, isn’t it?

Humanity

twitch

Lovelovemotherexpletive

I only posted three times in the whole month of April. That seems like a rather extreme dropoff. On the flipside, it will be pretty easy to do more in May, and since this is now post #2, things are looking rosy.

My plant sale is in less than two weeks. I am all aquiver, my farmer is like, ‘yeah, lets put up a table and see what we have that’s big enough’. I may need to adjust my level of ‘get ready’, and by a lot. maybe this is the notoriously stoic new england farmer thing? i’m quiet but pretty far from stoic. epic, yes, but not stoic.

This week my chicken chores expanded a whole bunch, in helping the farmer move the birds from one coop to another. It was a lot. I realized my age and how far I am from being a farmer. It is good to remember how much they do, and how nonstop their work is, and then pay more for the food they give us, because we should. It costs more energy and life force to plant and grow a real-life cucumber than it does to make a hotdog. It really does. But hot dogs have so many machines involved, so much shipping, so many ingredients we should probably care a whole lot about. Why can we buy a whole pack of hotdogs for so cheap? Why? Eat more cucumbers. Put ketchup on it, I don’t care.

Roe v. Wade is about to be overturned. I never have had an abortion but don’t judge any one who has, because fertility and womb care is for each woman to do, forever and ever, amen. Intensely personal life choices are supposed to be private, and sacred. Now my daughter, my nieces? will not have access if they don’t want to have a baby? I guess the state I live in is more important than ever. If she stays here, it will always be an option for her. I guess if we go from electing a president who thinks grabbing pussy is a thing, it makes sense that we end up with less freedom over our own lives than we had before our pussies got grabbed.

Sigh. That just put me off my writing mood.

woman protesting for women s rights
Photo by Duané Viljoen on Pexels.com

Humanity

Again, covid.

Lovelovemotherexpletive

Here we are, face to face, a couple of silver spoons.

There is no logic to why I just recalled that lyric from the opening to a ricky schroeder show from the 80s. Evidently, he is a bit of a dick. go figure. i digress.

Neither do i feel much logic in the way the cold-like covid has returned to my family nest. Just one, so far, this time. But we will see. There are two of the four of us vaccinated here now, so will the story be different this time? Hm.

I don’t know. I surrender to the gods of eighties teen sitcoms. I do not know.

I think I’m close to speechless though. So, there is that novelty.

I’ll come back soon, most likely.

sigh.

  • lovelove
Flea market finds. photo by kate @unwifedmotherexpletive
Humanity

So. (Sew. a needle pulling thread.)

Lovelovemotherexpletive

I can’t tell anymore if my moods are because of anxiety about money, or grief, or resentments about past activities. or even the foods I am eating…

How I am stitched together:

I have a therapist, I have fresh veggies in the fridge, I have steps to take concerning money which is more than i might have, my kids are relatively healthy, but boys don’t talk as much as girls and that is deafening sometimes, when they are going through stuff and you only get the spottiest of details and all you can do is cook food for them that you think will make them happy and then you look at your plumpy round belly and recognize where it has come from.

comfort.

How I am falling apart:

reasons for anxiety and mood swings and depression,

1.hormonal insanity.
  • bad food choices that are super comforting when they actually occur.
  • Hello macaroni and cheese, homemade of course, literally heavy with cheese.
  • i use a test kitchen recipe but I can’t link to it without you having to pay to join and that sucks so much I am going to boycott it. creamy stovetop mac and cheese, if you already pay to play.

3. And then there is candy. I’m partial to cinnamon bears and swedish fish, but also go down hard for chocolate riesen.

4. financial upheaval in the sense that I am still trying to move along with a refinance and trying to dream about a future that is sustainable for me, and might even truly sustain me. like, on the insides, with beauty, work, and joy.

5. i don’t have a lot of energy, which could relate to 1,2,3, or 4, really. And i’ve got a date to attend but I just don’t have any feelings about it and forcing myself to go do it is both good and bad and I’m not sure where I stand on it right now. gah, i don’t want to go, i just want to sit on the sofa and eat my candy goddamnit.

6. I’m heading off to the flower farm this morning, and the beauty will soothe the beast. But one thing I’ve realized now, in my third week of working at two farms, is that my body is not 27 anymore, and I need to be damn careful about how I stand, and how I position myself when I am hauling things, because damn, I need more hot baths than I have time for.

7. Goddamned fucking pandemic is making everyone so afraid still, and everything is tentative and weird and i keep wearing a mask but most people aren’t and I’m just confused as to if one of us is in the wrong or doing something useless. am i doing something useless? really? its exhausting. so goddamned exhausting. and still, nothing to do but feel the feels of the entire fucking world. swampy ground.

8. regular old depression. if you can pick that feeling out from all the others, and normalize it a little, that would feel good, i suppose, if depression feels good.

9. grief. feeling the loss of supports right now, even though new ones are popping up everywhere. grief. loss my shit yesterday at finding a recipe written in my lovely motherinlaws hand. its fine, its fine, i am holding it together.

fine. fine.

all you.

-lovelove.

and don’t worry about me, please, its just life.

Mess. Color. Beauty. Work. Fuschia and Nasturtium and Pansy

Humanity

Asshole. And Rattle practice.

Lovelovemotherexpletive

Well, two of the three kids have tested positive for covid. So, if you read that last post in which I whine? WELL.

I’m an asshole and so it is. No more whining except that I’m glad I’m vaccinated, and since they’re really quite recovered already, I can say I’m glad that they’ll have antibodies. Sigh.

And, on a positive note, my freezer will finally have its day. (i’m vaccinated, so according to the town nurse I can go to the store, but I’m concerned about the ego of the freezer, and how much its been looking forward to this day.)

It brings up a host of problems in co-parenting, in case you were wondering. So many and so varied, and so much of my life right now is just spent listening, and keeping my mouth shut and waiting for ‘conversation’ to end. I’m definitely out of practice of talking, because I do not know how people rattle on anymore. I really don’t.

Should I get out there and practice? (well, after we’re done quarantining.) Just go up to strangers and rattle off on them? or maybe that is what I use this forum for?

I honestly do not know. I think it might be time for more rattle practice, because listening sucks. I’d like to be the rattler for once.

LET ME RATTLE GODDAMNIT. LET ME RATTLE.