My Name is Mommy

Did I mention?

There are crawdads in my living room.  Yeah, Dean and the girls caught two of them and brought them home as pets and now they are living in a big storage bin that I used to use for laundry.

And it is Sunday, which means laundry day.  I am a little under the weather so I've been lying around all day. Dean took the girls to the Fog Fest with Nat and Kendyl.  I am "doing" laundry.  Actually, I am going to start folding clothes any minute here and catch up on my TiVo for the week.  Hopefully, I haven't missed all the premiers.  Tried to eat some soup today but just did not sit well.  Dean is bringing me iced-tea-lemonade-sweetened and then all will be well.

Laundry, gaaad. We should just buy new clothes every week.

Weird.

I just realized it is almost the beginning of October.  I always get depressed at this time of the year.  I think next year, maybe I'm going to go to the doctor around the end of August and say- "Look, I know there is this mind-blowing, ass-sucking major depression coming up for me right around the end of September. Can you drug me until spring? Thanks."

It really does not help that my house is destroyed. 

I love my roses, my garden.  Neither have been tended to this year at all because of the remodelling.  My beautiful heirloom roses.  I wonder if they will survive all this.  They are going all wild and crazy back there in the yard.

Maybe it will be like the Secret Garden and next spring everything will come back all nice and green.

What was funny is that a big patch of thistle grew up under the finch feeder from where the finches spilled their thistle seeds.  I kinda liked that.

Cooties or Viola is in big trouble.

7 going on 17.  We're driving back from soccer.  The kids lecture me about how I could have more nicely told one of the kids to get off the field after I told her to play defense and she just went ahead and played offense anyway.  THEN Viola says something about how when boys kiss a girl the girl just stands there but when a girl kisses a boy they go all crazy and run away.

AHEM.

I asked Viola what boys she's been kissing.

Oh, just the next door neighbor boy, Matthew.

She is so grounded.  Like, forever.

I am in so much trouble.

Yes, it is 8:20 am. And I am supposed to be at the soccer field in, oh, 25 minutes.

Where am I?

Still in bed.  In my pajamas.

Shit.

What am I going to do?

I guess I'm going to have to get up.

Soccer games should only be after 12pm.  Just my .02.

The kitties are sleeping.

But I'm not. Woke up to Viola having a nightmare about forty-five minutes ago next to me in the bed.  Got her settled back in and now I am wide awake.  Maybe its time to watch that House premiere.

I have to admit, I threw in a load of laundry, too.  You've got to find whatever time you can to get stuff done.  If I threw on some gym clothes right now, I could make it to spinning class.

Not a chance. ha ha.

It's Friday. Woo hoo!

Liz wants me to go visit her in Reno.  I think I could get myself in far too much trouble there, bad idea.  And so much work to do...

Natalie and Kendyl came home really late I think after going out with friends for another round of birthday celebrations.  God, for my 21st birthday... I don't even want to think about it.  There was alot of puke involved.

Call me crazy: Marie Antoinette's pearls are being auctioned by Christie's.  They expect to go for $800K.  They have been in the same family for 200 years.  If I had a superfluous $800K lying around, I would totally buy them.  I mean, how cool is that? Marie Antoinette's pearls?

OMG

So this morning I'm lying on my bed.  I haven't been eating much because my stomach hurts alot and I've been bleeding a whole bunch.  Dean leaned over to kiss me goodbye and put his hand down on my hip bone which appently is sticking out more than normal.  He made a face and said, "You're not fat, you're big-boned!"  heh, which kinda gave me a chuckle so I went to the bathroom and weighed myself.  I haven't been in the 140's since like 4th grade(being 5'10" and all).  Some weird part of my brain is gleeful and the other part of my brain is saying, "Hmm that's not good!"  I was hovering in the 160's before I had my surgery. I guess I better go back to the doctor.

Oh wait:

The tiling of the family room progresses.

What in the world was I thinking putting fancy, expensive italian marble in the KID'S BATHROOM?  Natalie and Kendyl are still living with us, hence all the junk.

AT LEAST, the shower can be used and we don't have 14 people coming into our bathroom everyday.  Its the small things that count.

Why do I still believe?

I don't know?  I still go to the Saint-of-the-Day Page and read the lives of the saints.  You know, the saints ARE  pretty cool- I mean everyone says St. Vincent de Paul was this irascible man but he organized all the wealthy people of Paris into opening new hospitals and whatnot.  St. Augustine, my personal favorite, was a complete hedonist but wrote one of the most compelling arguments in modern philosophy for the existence of God.  And in Robertson Davies "The Rebel Angels"

What really shapes and conditions and makes us is somebody only a few of us ever have the courage to face: and that is the child you once were, long before formal education ever got its claws into you -- that impatient, all-demanding child who wants love and power and can't get enough of either and who goes on raging and weeping in your spirit till at last your eyes are closed and all the fools say, "Doesn't he look peaceful?" It is those pent-up, craving children who make all the wars and all the horrors and all the art and all the beauty and discovery in life, because they are trying to achieve what lay beyond their grasp before they were five years old

Hey, Robertson Davies is no Saint but I guess he's one of the reasons why I still think there might be a heaven.  And I remember sitting in class, expected to rebut Augustine's argument and I didn't.  I didn't want to find any holes in it.  Sometimes it is nice to just take a beautiful thing and leave it to be what it is.  But I guess that is part of the beauty of it that it isn't so easy to take it apart and destroy it.  Not like Kantian ethics, for example, or the Aristotelean version of what a woman ought to be.

I REALLY need to find a book to read.  TV has been unable to distract me.  I read the new Stephanie Meyer book which was like 700 pages or something on one 5 hour plane ride.  I need something to fill the void.  I have last season of Nip/Tuck but I'm afraid watching that will truly send me off the deep end.

Good books I should read, anyone?  Marg- got the one you sent me, maybe I'll pick that up today and see what it does for me.

California day.

Just real quick.  It was a hot day.  Really hot.  This hot:

I went to the carwash.  I love sitting in the car, inside the carwash with the music playing.  I don;t know what it is, it is really soothing.  It used to be a major event of my childhood to go to the carwash:

Yeah, but what about Skipper?

I wouldn't have ruminated on my own death so much if I knew that Skipper's time with us was almost up.  On to bigger ponds, little fair goldfish, you were really pretty and the kids sure cried alot when you died.

Useless commentary.

Is it still September?  This month has been dragging for me and I don't know why.  It feels like it should be November.  I guess I sort of want it to be November and then that would mean the kitchen is done.  The family room is coming along, lots of granite and it looks oh-so-good.  I have to say, it was a good choice.  The 18x18 is nice.  It's taking a while because the slab underneath was not so level a la the laundry room.

Nat and Kendyl are back from Vegas.  They brought me candy: cow tails.  I ate them all in one sitting.  It's good they are back.  Here is how drunk Kendyl got: she gave her number to a couple of GUYS.

I'm trying to keep myself distracted. 

The laundry is piling up.  I can't find my credit card.  There is dust on everything.  I can't type a paragraph without glaring grammatical errors.  I never used to be like this.  The world has spun off its axis.

I can't decide? Should I get Greenspan's book?  I mean, it has to be fascinating, right? 

I think school might have started this week(yeah, my school- I was signed up to take some feminist theory class or something just for fun).  Heh.  I don't know what's going on.

As a bizarre sidenote, did you know that some people try to use ground nutmeg to get high? Weird, huh?

Rat race.

Natalie and Kendyl are gone to Vegas. Kendyl turned 21 and so they're partying in the place where, well, many others have puked before them.  I had a dream last night that Kendyl was pregnant.

What does it all mean?

I also went into Longs Drugs today.  Now all the old people shop in Long's Drugs but they carry a particular product I was looking for.  Anyhow, breaking in a new pair of Michael Kors 4-inch heels- WOOD heels in Longs Drugs in the aisle with all the condoms and other sexual aids while granny and grandpa look on. I'd liken it to a golden retriever on a tile floor, but that's a far more wholesome image.

I'm just working away.  The kitchen has ground to a halt while we wait for some cabinets to come in but my guys in the mean time are tiling the family room floor.  Yes! More granite! Salt & Pepper! It will be fabulous.  We will live in the house of stone.  I should NEVER have gone into the stone warehouse. It's all the bathroom's fault.

Coached socer tonight.  The girls were brutal in the scrimmage.  I love it.  I think it is time to teach them about slide tackling as a what-not-to-do. Dean made it to the last few minutes ofpractice and we managed to stay at the park and extra hour kicking the ball around. Viola is turning into quite the good soccer player.

Going to bed early.  Client tomorrow.  Long drive to St. Helena. At least lunch will be good.

I'd like to say...

that the weekend was sunny and our outlook has changed.  But it rained and blew the whole weekend.  It's cold and I'm under the heated blanket(had to buy a new one since I burned the old one out).

I did buy a really hot pair of shoes, but it doesn't seem to fill the hole in my heart.

I had sex with my husband for the first time in ... I don't know how long... but it all feels like pretend.  I guess you just keep putting one foot in front of the other.  Dean is my best friend.  I respect him(which is hard to get out of me).  He's one of the people I could truly lay it all down for, including my life.  But something just isn't clicking for us.  I don't know if it is the stress of everything, I think not.  I think I pickd Dean at a time in my life when what I wanted was someone safe and reserved.  And now all I can think about is how I want someone who wants me, who will grab me and ravish me.  And Dean is not the ravishing sort.  He's the guy who asks, in his khakis from the end of the bed while I'm on a conference call, "Wanna have sex". And that's a big step for him.

What does it all mean?  I don't know.  I'd pay any price for peace after the chaos I grew up in.  And I love Dean, let there be no mistake.  And we have some great moments, but we're sorta of like stumbling around in the dark only making contat here and there.  I don't know how to fix it or what the solution is, I just know I need more.  And I'm sure I'm not doing it for him, he probably sees me as stone cold.  I will never be the simpering, mentor-needing girl that he likes, and is drawn to, though.  We do have alot of fun together and man, what we've been through we could go far on just that alone.

I'm just letting it all hang out here.  I think if I did have an affair, I'd be totally like a guy.  Or maybe I'd be totally like a girl and all that bs is just a stereotype.  I'd just be getting sex, a little ego boost.  I can compartmentalize like no one.  We women are good at that.  You men have forced us to be.

What do you think of that? Huh?  Hypothetically speaking and all.

What if I died?

I try to think back now sometimes to what I remember about my mom before she had her brain tumor when I was 13.  Not much.  Her perfume.  Sometimes I smell it- someone walks by me on the street and I am 6 years old again watching Mommy get ready for work in her fancy suits and high heels.

Is this what I am?  Will my children remember the scent of my perfume as I walk out the door?

It scares the shit out of me.  What would my kids remember about me if I died? 

I don't know if this preoccupation comes from some morbid rumination over my health issues or because I am permanently scarred by the loss of my mother at such an early age.  And no, she didn't die of her brain tumor- but it wasn't her that came back, either.

I've been in a crazy self-destructive mode lately.  I think I am not handling the news about Avery as well as I would like.  A cold hand grips my heart every time I look at her.  I know what real fear is now.  I could lose it all.  I would give this whole life up- everything we have, we've made.  I'd live in a cave, in a box, in a wide open field if I could just, just take this one thing away from her.  And I fucking can't.  And why not? 

This is not a good post, I know.  And I know alot of people have worse, much worse things to deal with.  I'm just never very good at waiting and seeing.  Yes, let's wait and see if she has a stroke.  Yes, let's wait and see if she gets an abscess in her brain.  Yes, let's wait and see if she has trouble walking or talking or if one day she falls down and doesn't wake up again.

And this is my fault.  I gave this to her.  Why did I have to be her mother?  Why couldn't she have gotten a mother who gave her freckles or a bump in her nose?  Why?  It's so not fair.  She came home from preschool and was so excited because she can write her name in cursive now.  My Avery.  I hate myself for doing this to her.  I hate myself for being the one that gave it to her.  Now I know why some people hate God so much.  They hate him as much as I hate myself right now. 

And if something does happen to her, bury me with her, please.

Why did I wait so long?

Apollo heard me before I even entered the barn and started whuffling, snorting and whinnying to me.  Nott because he likes me.  He probably just thinks I'm going to feed him.

Oh, it was good.  Better than anything.  We didn't do much.  I lunged him, groomed him and threw the saddle on.  We walked a bit, did some leg yields- nothing major.  I'm going to be sore as hell tomorrow.

Oh, but I buried my face in his neck and it all went away, everything bad- the surgery, the doctors, Averys malformed brain and heart, my indecision on other matters, my angst about work, the destruction of the house.  Just me and my furry horse whuffling at the back of my head waiting for treats while I held on for dear life.

Technicalities.

So, technically the day has passed where I can go and 'exercise'.  I don't think this includes riding horses but remember when Avery was born I was back on a horse while I still had a gaping c-section incision.  But I haven't gone yet.  I don't really know why.  I dream about riding almost every night.  Usually Apollo but sometimes other horses I have known.  Sometimes with the horses it's like that.  Have I gotten a little afraid?  I don't think so.  Part of it is that energy is such a precious commodity and after all the travel and fighting with the school district and starting up the soccer season and EVERYTHING, I just don't even know where to pull the reserves from to go ride.

And it's funny because I love it, and when I go I'll love being there and I'll feel so good after.. it's just getting that activation energy to get there.

Yes, Mommy has become lazy.

So, my stomach has been hurting like hell.  I don't say much about it- play it off like "Oh, I'm so full" and "Just no appetite" but eating has a price these days.  I'm not sure if its the ulcer or other stuff going on or my  genetically funky digestive tract.  I'm just so damn tired of the doctors I don't want to go any more.  I'm tired of them doing stuff to me.  I know they are trying to fix me.  But it feels mean.  I'd rather just not eat.  Upside? I've lost about 10 lbs this summer. Ha ha ha. Downside? Yeah, if I keep losing weight they are going to do even more mean stuff to me.  I'm just glad I'm genetically endowed with a big ass that can sustain me for a good, long while.  It probably doesn't help that we still don;t have a kitchen so we're eating stuff like pizza and taco bell 24/7. Yuck anyway.

I know I am whining like a baby. I'm hoping it is all just stress related and once I can get back out with the horses and get into a routine with the kids and school, everything will just be better.

Work has been busy.  Just got back from Chicago.  Saw nothing as usual except the inside of the great Nielsen office, but did eat at a fabulous italian place and had good company of a nice coworker.

Okay, it's almost 6 am.  I could probably squeeze a trip to the ranch in before work.  I'm going.  Will report back later. Damn. It's going to be cold.  I hate that.

perfect sunday

yesterday was a pretty good day even though i wasn't quite sure where i was when i woke up. gotcha Liz! Just kidding.  but really.  Dean for some totally bizarre reason felt compelled to go to Starbucks and get me my black tea lemonade(sweetened) (venti) (heavy on the lemon) and a big bag of asiago bages still warm from Noahs.  You know me and food.

The workers finished the floor which means good things- it means today we start sorting cabinets and figuring out what goes where.  And the floor is perfect. Beautiful.  I love it. Screw you all who tried to talk me out of my granite floor cause I showed you. We live in the freakin' Taj Mahal now.  But yes, construction continues, albeit slowly.

But yesterday we went to the city for the yes, I know(cliche), Chocolate Festival.  We had all kinds of chocolate.  I learned something new this weekend which is that the vanilla 'bean' is actually the seed pod of an orchid.  How amazing is that? So of course I got some chocate with some vanilla in it. 

The girls had fun at the festival.  They ate a ton of chocolate, of course.  They colored a ceramic turtle a piece(and my god! it was free!). We(Nat, Kendyl, Ave, Vi and I all got matching love knot rings) so now we're all bound together forever until someone loses theirs(like tomorrow).  And the girls had their names written on a grain of rice and put in a necklace.  If I was smart I would have gotten one too for those nights when I get a little lost and forget who I am.

We went to mexican food after.  It wasn't very good but sometimes you gotta be brave and go for the not-sure-thing  but it helped the god-i'm-going-to-throw-up-from-all-the-chocolate feeling.

Then we asked a trolley conductor how to get to Lombard street because we wanted to see if te suburban coud actually make it.  He was completely rude to us so we stalked his trolley/streetcar down.  we waited for him to come around the corner and then goodby mexican leftovers.

so immature.  I know, I know. I jut don't like mean people and it makes me want to throw things,

the drive home was one of those nice drives where everyone drifted off and I was left with my thoughts- faces, smiles in my mind.  That's such a nice touch to humanity that we have our limbic memories.  We don't just remember not to touch the hot stove, we also remember when we have something pleasant to think of which is just what I did.

back to bed.  was going to get up and ride and go to the gym but my arms are hurting from something so not today. more sleep instead. Avery is such a good snuggler,

Remember me?

With the sunburned ass crack?

Alot of people have been writing me asking me to comment on the Duggar birth.  I will. I swear.  I'll write a scathing, pro-birth-control judgement of the situation and all you fundamentalist right-wingers can come and flame my ass but guess what it's already sunburned so I won't even care.

I'm really upset about the miners.  I was obsessed.  I wanted them to be found, even if it was just so their families could read their last notes to them if they had a chance to write them.  I always think, if I was in a horrible car accident and had a dissected aorta that was about to burst, who would I call and what would I say?  I'd be torn between my sister because I'd want her to tell the girls every day for the rest of their lives how much their mommy loved them and all the wacky stuff I did and she knows it all because she's been there for it all.  And I'd want to call Dean, because I'd want to make sure he'd remember about the life insurance policy and to take the girls to their check-ups and because I'd want to tell him that he was a good friend and father and husband and how much I love him.  There are other people I'd want to call, to tell them thanks for getting me through and loving me despite all my crazy quirkiness but you only have so much time when you're dying so you have to be practical.  I don't think I could talk to the girls, or could I? Could I hold it together to say what I needed to say?

Is this crazy morbid or what?  Don't forget 9/11 is coming up and these are the decision that people had to make.

What message would YOU leave on the answering machine? What indeed?