baby, it's cold outside

i am finding it hard to be jolly. i love christmas. i went through a period in my life when it didn't matter, but after having isabel, christmas has brought such joy and fun. not this year. i don't know if it is the state of the world, the state of my world, or what, but i could not care less that there are only 13 days until christmas.

fuck. 13 days. i have so much shopping and so little money.

all i want to do is pull on some sweats, go to a couple of yoga classes, bake and cook. is that so much to ask? i haven't made homemade noodles since sylvie graced the universe with her presence.

i am tired of people touching me and saying my name or my title granted to me by procreating. if i hear a little voice plaintively wailing in the most nasal of tones, "mom?" i just might lose my shit. which i already have done this week. i have tried to be the most empathetic and nonjudgemental of parents. it has only served to render me into a giant doormat. i now know that the reason my mother was fascist was because that is the only way to get things done when no one in your household has acknowledged any of your requests. it is only when they turn into orders that you warrant attention, albeit negative attention.

i want to curl up with jason and just sleep. is that so much to ask. sleep? i need to be spooned with no expectations. i need someone to hold me, but that isn't going to happen unless there is some sort of quid pro quo. how sad, here i thought i married one of the few enlightened men and it turns out that if you snuggle in too close to anyone with a penis they are going to get the idea that more than cuddling is on the table.

i am resenting the household i live in. i lost my grandma, that just sounds ridiculous like i'll find her at the bakery or something...my grandma died the day after thanksgiving and the one person that i needed to step up and take care of me did the exact opposite. he whined and ignored and spent hours in the garage while i was aching in the house, sick, taking care of his children who were the worst behaved i have ever experienced. i have not stopped in weeks. i am losing her in bits and pieces and i find myself crying at inopportune moments, i.e. sitting on hold at work and huey lewis' "power of love" starts playing.

sylvie asks where she is. every day. what do you say to a 2 year old? according to my mom she would understand if she knew about jesus and angels. what a load of shit. sylvie doesn't accept it when i go in the bathroom and shut the door. i have to figure something out though, she asked my uncle to call grandma the other day so they could talk since she wasn't home. i don't want to reopen wounds for my grandfather and uncle, but i am so touched that sylvie seems to miss her almost as much as i do. and here come the tears....

so i am going to watch "diners, drive-ins, and dives", have a glass of wine, go through the pantry to make sure i have all my cookie making supplies, and hope that i can find time to go to the free yoga class tomorrow.

angst, it's not just for teens anymore

one would think that insecurity would fade with age. the constant need to please every person in your life overwhelming your individual desires. the fear of disapproval extinguishing your needs. when in your life do you stand up for yourself? is there a point where it is too late? will you always be a doormat? will you always cave in to what is expected of you as a wife, mother, friend, sister, and daughter? when will you put yourself first?

i have a mental list of things that i have put off doing, declaring, or feeling. i go over that list in my head every morning with the intent of scratching at least one item off of it. i start off confident while brushing my teeth, determined while pouring my coffee that today will be the day i put my foot down. today is the day i don't have a mental list anymore, but a solid one on paper to present to those who keep thwarting my path. i want to be able to look at them and say, "this, these things right here are what i want and i am tired of you bursting my bubble every time i have an idea".

these people don't do it on purpose. in fact, i allow them to do it. it is so much safer that way. i can't take a chance on anything, that would upset the balance. it is easier to blame other people in my life for my inability to accomplish or participate in things i want. i can disguise my cowardice in their selfishness.

so i didn't pursue that job that was part time midnights with benefits, i didn't apply to midwifery/doula school, never signed up for yoga, joined a gym, went back to church, joined a choir, auditioned for that play at stagecrafters, attended the white house project seminar, volunteered at planned parenthood, or took the reins on planning the holidays. it is much safer to let others tell you that your schedule is too full, things like that cost too much money, the holidays are crap, or that you really need to focus on getting your life organized before taking on anything else.

i go to bed each night, deflated, discouraged, and annoyed with myself. and so i fall asleep going through the mental list. maybe tomorrow i'll put pen to paper.

stressed out on a thursday

i am no good with clever titles. sometimes i am, but not today. my brain hurts.

i think i need to flush out my karma. something has a shadow over me, despite the gorgeously brilliant blue sky outside. it is beautiful out there and i should be outside enjoying it. i should be finishing with the halloween decorations, digging up my sage and basil, cutting down my perennials, going for a walk...anything other than sitting on my couch wallowing.

and that is what i am doing. the past 18 hours have not been the greatest. my grandmother has cancer, but we were under the impression that while it is in fact terminal, she had a while. my uncle came over unannounced last night after dinner, this is something he never does. he lives with her and it is his feeling in his gut that she doesn't have much longer. thanksgiving, beginning of december at the latest. i am calm. i am fine. i grieved two months ago when we first found out her cancer had returned with a vengeance. i spent hours in a heap on the floor of my bathroom with snot running down my face and my daughters sitting outside the door completely perplexed. the thought of her death breaks my heart. this woman, who is not biologically related to me, is the only grandma i had a relationship with. she spoiled me and loved me, but also was a source of friction between my mom and i and my brothers. i, the adopted one, was the favored grandchild. maybe she did it on purpose. maybe she felt the need to make up for the fact i wasn't biologically her grandchild by overdoing it. there were times that she made my biology an issue and sometimes made me more aware of slights and insults than i should have been. maybe they weren't even slights, maybe it was all in her head and projected into mine. either way, when she does pass, it isn't going to be pretty. she has a complicated relationship with every one in her life and that isn't complicated in a good way.

when is complicated ever good?

what else has happened? hmmm...i am suffering from my usual autumn sinus issues which keep me from sleeping well at night. i end up sleeping with my mouth open since my nasal passages are cemented shut, which leads to snoring, which means jason doesn't sleep either. the sinus issue also puts a damper on any bedroom activity for that matter. which makes me crabby. not that i feel like engaging in any of that activity anyway, i have found that i have put on at least 7 pounds in the past three weeks, this makes me feel unattractive. i can barely look at my self in the mirror as i am getting dressed let alone be naked in front of someone.

yes, i know, i gave birth to his children and he has seen me in all my undignified glory. but that was in the process of giving life. it doesn't matter. childbirth is supposed to be beautiful, human, and messy all at once. no one wants to see a muffin top over a thong. or flannel pj pants for that matter, which is all i feel less like a sardine in these days.

my seven year old will not cooperate in the morning. she is worse than a teenager. she changes her outfit three times before school, she takes forever in the bathroom, and stomps around the house breathing heavy sighs when she does not get her way. when did 7 become the new 15?

my two year old and i spent the morning in the ER. when we got to isabel's school this morning, i had my coffee in one hand and sylvie wanted to be picked up in the other. i leaned over, as i do every morning, to grasp her with my free arm. she leaned back just as i scooped her and she fell about a foot to the cement on her head. not crying, she laid there. i pulled her up and she stared at me, wobbled and closed her eyes. my heart sank and i started to panic. i sat her down on a step and checked her pupils which were fine except she kept closing her eyes. still no crying. no lump on her head, which they say is worse. i put her in the car and she just sat there. i kept talking to her and she started to perk up a little bit and was even singing along with the cd. just as we got a half mile from the house, she started nodding off. i called the husband. after calling jason, we drove to the hospital, called my mom who ended up leaving a surgery and meeting us at our curtain area. the doctor examined her, said she was fine especially since sylvie decided to start talking to everyone and playing with her toys. so now she is taking a nap, which the doctor said was okay. i needed a drink after that morning.

i am sitting here on the couch. i should be doing dishes or one of those other things aforementioned, but i am not. i am going to procrastinate and maybe have a mini milky way.

and i have to ask, why is it in movies and television that when a couple starts kissing and they really get into it and you pretty much know they are going to have sex the man takes his shirt off first? i have never had that happen in real life. real males of our species tend to take off pants before shirts in my experience.

pap from myspace

i know i've been a bit stingy with the blogs as of late. my deepest and most humble apologies. of course, i have little motivation as one of my most dedicated readershas left the cesspool we fondly refer to as myspace. so really, what is the point?

we saw high school musical 3 on saturday. what an experience that was. the girls all had a great time. i think the moms did too. let me say that zac efron is definitely easy on the eyes, especially all sweaty and sans a shirt. yum. yes, i know, that was very lecherous of me, but come on, he is 21.

as for the movie itself, it really wasn't bad at all. the music was decent, the storyline was slightly less syrupy, the dance numbers were well choreographed...it wasn't the worst way to spend a saturday afternoon. there was one number that did sound a little bit like michael jackson's "smooth criminal" and the choreography was very "beat it" and "thriller".

the entire weeekend was overscheduled. we had soccer, hsm3, a birthday party that incorporated the movie trip, and my granparents' 50th anniversary party. i had very little time to do the usual weekend catch up on the housework before monday. so now i am drowning in a disastrous house and a whiny two year old.

i wish i could just blink my eyes and magically become organized. every room in the house is just cluttered and there seems like there is nowhere to put anything. everytime i sort through things and clean off tabletops and counters and file things away, two days later it is all a mess again. i need to do fall cleaning before winter. i have cobwebs in every corner of the house and i need to wash the slipcovers and living room curtains. i need to cut down some of the perennials and bring my basil plant into the house before it dies.

i also need to figure out what the heck i'm wearing to this wedding on saturday. nothing fits. i can't decide if it is hormones or i'm just fat from too many potato chips. it may be hormones, my skin is a disaster. but i could just be getting fat. hmmm. jason thinks it's the latter.

on a grandma update, there isn't much to tell. she is on oxygen about 8-10 hours a day and seems to be doing better with it. there are some days she is up and about bellowing at everyone, but there are some days when she doesn't get out of the chair.

speaking of, i need to call her.

ok, things to do, no more wasting time. i have a fridge to clean and laundry to put away.