Tag: sick

Humanity

sick days-time limit

Lovelovemotherexpletive

i’m haunted by food that is in the fridge. that chicken, could you cook it for me so it doesn’t go bad? i just cannot move. My nose is Gerard Depardieu.

I watched Last Holiday last night. Bob is a good egg to do it with me. (secretly he appreciated it tons. LL COOL J AND QUEEN LATIFAH? joy and extravagance? COME ON.)

there’s a timeline. this all has to go away in the next twelve hours because i haven’t been there long enough to have a sick day.

my middle child is the one of them who is not a good patient. tending him last night was one of those bitter moments when you realize your humanity is overriding the mother-bit. Being sick myself made it a hard one. but his fever broke sometime in the night and he was sweetly sweaty this morning and he will be 18 tomorrow and well. He was my easiest birth, and it was 18 years ago. dang.

Its been a doozy so far this year. I thought I’d gotten so much better with the divorce/shared parenting thing but this year has definitely shown me my flaws. Bitter bleeding pain moments at the kids being absent from me are occurring. I mean… ouch stuff. the right word is PIERCING.

the holidays and birthdays are always a ‘too much’ time for me, but this year I have wept, and I don’t recover as quickly as I’d like. My monkey mind is full of competitions and loss, and ‘well, fine, I’m wrapping the socks, we’re just going to have popcorn and I’ll leave all the presents to the rich dad and stepmom. Because I cannot win.’

And I still spend too much, and wrestle with my savings account. And it uncovers the part of me that really does watch the competition and try to participate. And believe it or not, as un-American as it is, I am aware that competition is out of place, and a full-on negative for me. but there it is. it appears anyhow.

I’ve done christmas by myself for my whole life with my kids. (like most moms) Do they know that? No. It is not just the two houses that makes it tough. Its a much bigger issue of feeling unseen and unappreciated. I was asked to move ‘things’ because of the stress the stepmom was feeling. So now there is a second woman overwhelmed and stressed by the season. (and yes, i wept, because goddamnit, this is my role, not anyone else’s and how dare their dad allow it to happen to someone else. isn’t one enough? ((and what the fuck does he DO?)) )

and then we go back to the chicken in the fridge and the need to cook for all the people. and the one home from college who fell asleep at 7 am.

Its a cheap, falling-apart wicker basket of emotions over here. And it better be all done in the next 12 hours. Thats it.

time limit.

person holding white tissue paper
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Humanity

pneumonia

Lovelovemotherexpletive

i missed two thanksgivings. one of which i was supposed to host, and had spent hours getting ready for. furniture moved, rug purchased, rugs cleaned… I’d even been writing about what it means, how much it means for me to be a host, to be a table upon which sustenance is served.

but no. instead, i host (still) a withering soul-destroying cough, granny panties for all the pee, and a fixed need to look into the colors of my own mucous.

i deeply missed seeing my family. touchstone moments for me, these yearly traditions, set me aright in identity and history. Too much of my own mortality at stake in not having these sightings and sit downs. Found myself enraged and trying to figure out how to be present there without anyone seeing me. Sent five dishes of food, much help if not all help given by the lovely bob. So many sighs.

dirty dishes heaped in kitchen sink
Photo by Gary Barnes on Pexels.com

And now I’m sitting here, back on the sofa, feet curled up and a few books read. Not read well, mind you, because i’m not entirely connected to my brain. Somehow ‘Gift from the Sea’ showed up on the floor nearby and so I’ve broached it yet again, and the slow down is immediate. And the withdrawal from the phone, and the recognition of how my brain is changing with all this immediacy of interplay that the phone gives. It is a mindlessness. And there is a part of me that is actually gravely concerned that I really do need to give it up in order to maintain my personality, the enjoyment of the ways in which my brain hops and sizzles on the skillet.

It takes me away from the slow, pulls me into a here-and-now that is somewhere else. If I need to stare out the window for ten minutes, can I do this without reaching for the phone to tell someone or to check something that occurs to me? I’m not being overly dramatic when I say it is changing something in me. And I’m not a fan.

And i’m done now, here. for today. I’ve got some reading to do. and maybe a little thinking, maybe some random staring. I’d wink at you if you were here.

love you much, shout out from the sick bed,

Kate

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

Funny not funny.

Lovelovemotherexpletive

My daughter has been full-court press on wanting to sleep in my bed with me, for the past week, and I’ve been too sick, and found it pretty easy to say ‘shutup go away, little precious pancake, leave me alone.’ but last night I was feeling well enough to give her the chance and it sucked, big monkey feces-throwing suck. So, a little setback.

But I’m here, I made it to the kitchen, into the day. One of my boys is officially done with quarantine today though he still has a big ugly cough. The other is still in bed, and he’ll go back to life on the fifteenth. The end is nigh.

I had therapy yesterday and unpacked my belief that being bored means I have no inner resources. My grandmother said that to me one time and I took it in so deeply that it has become one of the primary pillars of my self-worth. Which sucks, because frankly, there are many boring times, and my own self-judgement is pretty damn heavy-handed.

SO. what she posited to me was a change in perspective. Instead of imagining myself empty of resources and therefore the most pathetic thing on the planet, a scourge upon humanity…. I COULD imagine that my resources are being blocked, and if so, I could be curious about what it is that is blocking them.

HA on YOU. The resources are always there. Because that makes more sense then them just disappearing, right? Like, I am FULL of FUCKING RESOURCEFULNESS.

A WATERFALL OF FUCKING RESOURCE.

Being bored is just a sign that some little bitty part of me is staging a revolt and has blocked the flow. SO good goddamn, i need to track down the ittlebitty wonkum and knock him upside his noggin, get him or her out of the way.

If none of this makes sense, I’m blaming it on the level of mucous I’ve got going on. It may be brain matter that I am expelling at this point.

So- I’m on the hunt to investigate my own inner world, its a little bit fun, i’m not going to lie. Its a circus in there, and a manhunt, and so it makes a pretty good action movie. There’s even a waterfall. I’m predicting a cliffhanger.

Sigh.

I am though.

  • lovelove you.
fashion people woman summer
Its that bitch, 100%. I got her noggin on my list. I’m not sure when the waterfall turns up.
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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.