Just a few things

I’m tired of the Olympics and I don’t like the way they show a little bit of one event and then go to another event and then another one instead of just showing one event all the damn way through. Also, the figure skating is on until like two in the morning and I can’t stay up that late. If I set my DVR to record it then I already know who wins the next day when I watch the Today show but I can’t not watch the Today show because otherwise I wouldn’t know how much snow they’re getting on the East coast.

The women’s ski team? They’re bugging me.

When did the judges start looking at the tapes to see if a figure skater’s foot landed on an edge or a toe pic and measure the distance from whatever? Why isn’t it just about the costumes like it should be?

How is bobsledding a sport? I don’t get it. I know I’m apparently wrong in my thinking because it wouldn’t be an Olympic sport if it wasn’t a sport, but could someone explain?

And Bob Costas? Love him.

Today I had to buy a new battery for my car and two new tires and then they told me I needed new brakes. Yes. Lovely. Love that.

My wife is sick.

Hate that.

I hope she doesn’t have the HiNi flu.

Tomorrow we need to drive Halsey to Bremerton, WA to play in her first derby bout. If Cher is too sick to go and I have to drive by myself I may cry. I’ll try to be really grown up about it but inside I’ll be crying. A lot.

Today we saw the accountant and I told him how much income I earned last year and I think he chuckled under his breath. Yes, I know I’m poor. But I’m rich on Lacanian theory, essay writing, Spanish, Sociology and most of all, personality.

Seriously. Bobsledding?

Summer’s Day

I am in the summer of my life.

It is a time filled with happiness and long days emanating more light than darkness. The sounds of my children growing up are like the crickets chirping in the background–it’s notable but not really noticeable. I know that the Fall is coming sometime. If I close my eyes and breathe deep I can almost catch the slight scent of a yellow leaf falling to the ground. The Summer of one’s life is fun and happy and bright.

There are certain aspects about my life that have not been surprising and are as I would have imagined. I married–a couple of times. I had children. I bought a house–several of them–not at the same time and I did all of those typical things that girls do.

I walked down a misty path for many years. Cool Spring rain filled the air and I breathed in the newness. The tips of bulbs poked their heads out of the ground to seek the sun, but it was not yet shining. Through the fog, I could see what was along the way and on ahead but what I saw didn’t really please or excite me and I wondered what would become of my life when the short season of raising children came to an end; when I found myself alone with just my husband and friends. What will I do? “Anything you want,” my husband said, but this gave me no comfort or real hope for tomorrow.

I woke up one Spring day and changed my course. I took a turn down a dark, dank corridor. I could see no light and had no idea what was ahead. Was not seeing the future better than not liking what I did see? It was too late now–that ship had sailed into a vast unknown of stormy skies and no assurance that the world really was round.

“You must first sit in the darkness to fully appreciate a sunrise.” That was a line from a soap opera uttered in the early 1990’s and one I have always carried in my back pocket and for me it was true. Slowly the darkness lifted and the fog cleared. When the sun rose in the sky again and the storm stopped, I could see again.

The sun shines brightly on my life now, here in the Summer. When I look ahead, I see hope and inspiration.

And as I travel along I see the beauty of my life and that beauty is reflected in the faces of my children and my amazing wife who has been the greatest surprise and the greatest blessing the Summer has brought me.

It’s a lovely place to be.

Mrs. Bennett may have had it easier

I just watched a weird version of “Pride and Prejudice” where Elizabeth trades places with a girl from 2008. I won’t tell you how it goes but I will tell you that I watched it on my laptop while I was taking a bubble bath and it was nearly three hours long.

I was very clean when I finished the movie.

It’s the weekend and my girls have gone off with their father for the long weekend and my wife has gone off with her team for the evening. Hence, the bubble bath and movie watching and the fact that I ascertain that I deserve a quiet evening alone after the past couple of weeks.

There’s been drama at the Chateau de Martini and it has to do with teenage and pre-teenage girls who may live here. I won’t elaborate but I will tell you two things. First, my eldest daughter is amazing and no matter how much some people may think that I fucked up her life by getting a divorce and living life as a lesbian, she’s turning out okay so far. More than okay. I’m so proud of the woman that she is becoming.

I had to give her a little advice the other day because she is having some high school drama, which anyone reading this who ever attended high school is well aware of to what I am referring. Here’s what I told her. Maybe some of y’all will benefit from my motherly advice:

1. Just because someone casts out a line, doesn’t mean that you have to bite.

2. If a guy is being a douchebag, let him be a douchebag all by himself.

3. It is never you’re responsibility to make another person feel better about him or herself.

4. You deserve to be happy in what ever relationship you’re in and don’t owe anyone any more of an explanation than that.

5. Don’t let someone live in your head for free.

By this time you are probably guessing the drama. And you’re correct. Most likely.

The second thing is that my youngest baby is not a baby and she’s not handling it very well. She is showing a severe lack of responsibility lately and I feel like I’ve failed by not being harder on her–making her take care of her own stuff and what not. I haven’t held her responsible. I haven’t shown her how to take care of herself and it is showing.

I need them to turn out okay.Not only would really piss off the people who hate me and think that I’ve ruined my children by (gasp) living my life authentically, it would also please me immensely.

The mothering and the parenting, it doesn’t get any easier you know. I thought that it was hard when they were babies and I nursed two of them at once and changed diapers continuously and rocked and sang to babies who would not sleep. When I spent hours in the middle of the night trying to bring down a 105 degree fever while my husband slept and years feeling as if my body didn’t belong to me. I endured liquid pouring out of me from every orifice because of having or sustaining a baby’s life and years of dealing with sleep deprivation, depression and issues with my body. Yes, it was hard then; it was very hard then.

But now? Now, instead of screaming babies, I have screaming about borrowed clothes and make up and flat irons. Instead of driving them to play group, I  drive them to dinner at restaurants with their friends and dates and formal dances. I pay for cell phone service instead of diaper service and I buy skinny jeans instead of sleepers. Instead of being woken up in the night, I drag a teenager out of bed every morning. The tears I wipe away now are not because of a boo-boo on the knee, but rather a boo-boo on the heart. Now instead of worrying about what they may see on television, I worry about sexting and instead of worrying about what pre-school they’ll attend, I worry about how I’ll send them to college.

It never gets easier and the worries only change; this is because the universe abhors a vacuum, especially when it comes to children.

I think Mrs. Bennett may have had it easier.

Yes, yes, she had to worry about being thrown out of her house if her husband died before one of her daughters was properly married but she certainly didn’t need to worry about boys asking for text message pictures of Jane’s boobs or who Elizabeth was going to ask to the Sadie Hawkin’s dance. She didn’t have to drive Kitty and Lydia to piano practice on Tuesdays or Mary to roller derby on Thursday. I doubt she ever parent helped in her daughter’s classes or had to attend a parent/teacher conference. She certainly didn’t wake up in the night and wonder if anything she was doing was ruining their lives.

But hard as it is sometimes, I must say that there is nothing that gives me more joy than looking at the young women that I have brought into the world and (hopefully) helped to teach about the world and life. It matters not to me if they go on in their lives to become rocket scientists or waitresses; they can travel the world or stay in the town that they grew up. I don’t care if they are gay/straight/bi/ or asexual, democrats or republicans, religious or atheists. They can become CEO’s or nuns; they can be millionaires or just get by. I don’t care what they do or how they live their lives as long as they are happy, true to themselves, and thoughtful and kind to others.

And that will be a greater reward than what Mrs. Bennett received. I guess we’ll have to wait and see how the story turns out.

Wanted: Motivation

It’s that time in my school term when I ask myself, “What the hell am I doing?” I try to remind myself that it’s just that time in the term when I ask myself this question and move on.

If there is one thing I have gotten really good at in life, it’s reasoning with myself. I can talk myself in or out of most things; we have long conversations and I am able to point out all sorts of things to myself. We like it. As I have gotten older I have a self-awareness that allows me to know that every couple of weeks I feel very blah and don’t want to do anything. I feel overwhelmed. I feel like I can’t make anything work and I’m a complete failure. I know that when that happens I need to do certain things to help myself feel better and keep moving forward because I know it will get better very soon.

Yesterday I bought myself some daffodils. Today I’m going to get my ass in gear (as soon as I’m finished writing this) and do some work, some homework, have a meeting and later I’ll reward myself with a date with my sweet friend Sarah. There will be wine and pedicures involved. Tomorrow I must catch up on my Fiction writing class and then I should feel better about things.

I hope.

I didn’t realize that this Sunday is the Superbowl. I know that I could Google it, but I don’t even know who is playing and I don’t want you to tell me. The reason I didn’t know that it is the Superbowl this Sunday is because I haven’t been invited to a Superbowl party. Won’t you please invite me to yours? I promise I’ll root for the right team.I’ll even bring some chips.

When my motivation returns I have a letter or two to write and a bathroom to paint and shelves to hang up. Also Ginger needs a haircut. I should make a list but I’m afraid at this point in my lack of motivation the list might overwhelm me.

I will pay the garbage bill however. I don’t want THAT to happen again.

Did I tell you about that Internet? How I forgot to pay the garbage bill? I just forgot. It wasn’t like I didn’t have the money in the bank, because I did. I just forgot. The bill only comes every other month and I throw it in the drawer. In November I forgot to pay it and they took my garbage cans away.

Cher was not pleased and we had no garbage cans for a week.

So I made a really big payment and paid it ahead and now it’s due again. $41.67. I should put it on my list.

I’m not good with money. I never have been. I do budget but I don’t write stuff down in my checkbook because I just assume that there is money in there. I have a “head-in-the-sand” attitude and really I have come to terms with this. I’m good at SO many other things so I don’t dwell on it so much–it works for the most part.

Well, except when I forget to pay the garbage bill but I don’t see that happening again.

It’s 9:18 and I’m hoping at 10:00 some of my motivation will kick in. If you have some extra, won’t you please send some to me?