getting my house in order

getting my house in order
it's a jungle out there

Sunday, August 30, 2009

Sundays in My City

The Dutchess County Fair

a real county fair
Americana at its best

rides
food 
4H livestock

think Charlotte's Web


this was voted Favorite Ride



I voted it Most Likely to Make You Vomit


Food issues? Bah


eat this
continuing the vomit theme


Something Wicked This Way Comes


Every year Mia pets and nuzzles
each and every cow



rows upon rows of them
she loves the cows


moo

Sundays in My City
courtesy of the wise and funny Unknown Mami
let's go visit


Unknown Mami

 


Saturday, August 29, 2009

Hope in a pill

All right... I'm back... maybe... I think. Slogging through what feels like a forever three weeks of depression and anxiety so intolerable enough already and the decision to take a fucking pill how do people live like this for months or years? And the daily pill the color of 
a summer sky will hopefully 
twotothreeweekstwotothreeweekstwotothreeweeks lift the heaviness and calm the shaking hands and deepen the breath. Hopefully it will all stop. You know the feeling. Wanting to stay in bed and stare at the wall because you can't imagine getting through the day carrying this heaviness in your chest. Wanting to sleep because it's the only thing that brings relief.  Knowing that if you weren't a MOTHER that's exactly where you'd be... in bed, checked out.  But since you are a mother, you get up and get them fed and entertained and bathed maybe and keep some semblance of a clean house barely and you clench your jaw till your teeth and head ache and take a deep breath and put one foot in front of the other and make it through TWO boy birthday parties in 6 days aloneonyourown and try to bring a day's worth of happiness to two beautiful boys who deserve SO MUCH BETTER than what they've received this year.  And you go to work because you have to and usually this place brings relief or at least a distraction. A place where personal worries can be left in the parking lot with the minivan and you can spend 12 hours focusing on other mamas and their children and maybe even be moved to smile at the goofy toddler or marvel at the 4 day old or feel thankful when you receive a look of gratitude from the worried mother of an ill child because even if you try to leave your own worries out with the minivan, today you're not able to leave the heaviness behind. You wear it like the clothes on your back for all to see Michelle you look so sad and you wait for the pills to kick in.

Monday, August 10, 2009

FEED THEM


To all my bloggy friends...

There's a food drive going on at 
Welcome To My Planet.

Please, please, please, go visit Alicia and leave a comment.
Shoprite will donate one box of cereal to a food bank for every comment up to 30.

30 boxes of cereal for
30 families with hungry children

I feel good now... so can you

Thank-you
I love you


Saturday, August 8, 2009

Sundays In My City



       Unknown Mami

I love this idea courtesy of Unknown Mami

Old fashioned "commin to call" on a Sunday


This is our diner. 
It's on Main St.
The Yankee Clipper
our town has strong ties to the Revolutionary War 


When Ty was 4, he would call it Yank y Nipples


 
It's shiny and retro
a classic Greek American diner
owned by two sisters and their husbands
everyone knows us by name
the waitresses know what drinks the kids like
and who wants honey mustard or thousand island 
on the side


it's the only place where Mia is allowed to eat 
Fruit Loops
mainly 'cause I like the way the colors match the decor
or I'm just too tired to argue


We've had many a Sunday "brunch" here at the Clipper
I usually leave with a bellyache and indigestion
full of gustatory regret
but we still go back
it's The Clipper


Thursday, August 6, 2009

forgiveness

OK it's summer. Lately my posts have consisted of BIG picts, and few words. See that crab button over there. Yup. Summer's taking up my blog time.
Well. This morning I visited Ms. Moon.  And, as she frequently does, she got me thinking.
 
think
think
think
Dammit.

Forgiveness. Compassion. Unconditional love

So today, as I mowed the lawn and clipped the hedges and baked banana bread and macky cheese and tossed a steak salad...

I thought...

Events over the past year have caused me to spend a lot of time thinking about forgiveness. So... OK. I don't GET forgiveness. Not that I haven't been forgiven for my transgressions. I think I have, for the most part. Maybe. I know I try to be mindful and considerate of others. I try to check myself and not hurt others or step on their toes. I think, at least during my adult years, any hurtful acts I have committed have been largely due to my own insensitivity. And when I become aware of a transgression, I apologize.  

But what about deliberate hurtfulness? Damage that's purposeful. That's when I start having trouble. I've been very fortunate. I have been spared. So far. There have been very few times in my life when I have been hurt by another to the point that I wrestled with forgiveness.

Yes. Wrestled. I'm not vindictive, and I'm not stubborn. But, like I said, I don't get it. Is forgiveness the absence of anger? After the hurt, after the sadness, after the anger or rage, is that when forgiveness occurs? 

My first husband was emotionally abusive. The marriage was short lived... a mistake from the beginning. And I knew it. At the end, my hurt and anger was not due to the nasty names, or the meanness, or the manipulation. I was hurt because he was supposed to love me. He was supposed to care for me. And although I understood that he was damaged, and insecure, and all that blah blah blah, what hurt the most and subsequently made me the most angry was the deliberateness of his actions.  I didn't actually feel the anger until I was ready to fight back. Once I decided to open my mouth and say no, he being the cowardly bully he was went high tailing it outta there. Never said sorry, never took responsibility.  Like so many abusers, the pretense was paramount.  I never got the chance to confront him. I walked around seething for quite a while. It was really hard to let go of the anger. I wasn't interested in holding on to it, but I wasn't quite sure how to unload it. Forgiveness. Forgive him. That's what I thought. I thought if I could just forgive him, the anger would disappear.  I walked away from that marriage stronger, smarter, and understanding myself much better than when I walked down the aisle. But still...
The problem was, forgiving him felt like I was condoning his behavior. It still feels that way. I didn't care what kind of screwed up childhood he had.  Somehow, to forgive him feels like I'm saying come on in and do it again. His abusiveness was not OK.  
It. was. not. OK.
I wrote a letter. Detailing his behavior. And sent it to his mother. And then I felt better.
So many years have passed. No anger. No nothing. Have I forgiven him? Can't say that I have.
Would I let him back into my life in any capacity? Absolutely not. Do I have ill feelings toward him? No. Would I accept an apology? Yes...

An apology. Maybe that's the key to forgiveness. Does the perpetrator need to be penitent? What if that first husband was not at all abusive, but a great guy, and an awesome husband? What if he was someone who would never, ever, deliberately hurt me.  And what if he, due to depression, stress, and substance abuse, spiraled into his own hell and threatened to drag me down, too. What if things got really insane. Unbelievably fucked up. 
But what if that husband clawed himself out of his hell, and busted his ass to repair things. What if I could see true recovery. And true remorse, and true responsibility for his actions. And true healing. What if I could see the man I married, before the depression and alcohol? 
I might just give that husband another chance. With a zero tolerance policy. Not unconditional love. Unconditional love is for one's children. So, is this forgiveness?

Is the purpose of forgiveness healing for the victim, or the perpetrator? Bestowing forgiveness. Begging for forgiveness. What if the perpetrator doesn't give a shit? We've all heard stories that arguably require unbelievable forgiveness. Check out this one. For me, forgiveness of this magnitude would be impossible. If those were your kids, or your husband, son, or father, could you forgive? And how do you forgive a dead person? How do you forgive those around her who allowed her behavior? 
there but for the grace of god go i

And those who abuse children? How does the adult child forgive? I wish that all those children who have experienced violence be able to live, at some point, without fear and sadness and hurt and anger. I wish for those children, and the adults they become, to be free. But forgive? For the life of me, I can't imagine.  How can violence against a child ever be forgiven? It still seems to me like it's condoning the behavior. Saying it's OK?... I forgive you?... well, some things are just not forgivable. Ever. Especially if the abuser refuses to take responsibility. Not many words on this, as I don't think I could ever forgive this kind of violation.

So, yeah. I don't get it. To err is human. We know that. We do it all the time. To forgive, divine. Maybe that's the problem. Maybe it's impossible to truly, fully forgive. Because we are not truly, fully divine.

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

A hot and cold day

NYC here we come!!!

Grand Central Station 
Not the Grand Central of my childhood 
or adolescence or young adulthood for that matter.
It's beautiful. 
Clean. 
Light. 
Constellations painted on the ceiling. 
Chandeliers. 
And the entire lower level is now FOOD. Fancy food. Specialty foods. Prepared foods to take home after a long day in the office. All sorts of seafood. All sorts of sausages, cheeses, salads and sides. Chocolates, baked confections, breads...

Sorry... I digress...



beautiful architecture



find your zodiac sign



metro card so fancy
6 train uptown
hold onto the pole



hot dogs with ketchup and relish
cold drinks
lunch on a bench in midtown
soooo NYC


on to our ultimate destination
Central Park Zoo


goofy kids with happy bellies full of hot dogs



So it was really hot today. 
86 & humid with thunderstorms forecast.
Between the humidity and the NYC heat index it felt like... I don't know... 210 degrees?

New exhibit!!
***snow*** leopards

NOT!!
It was so NOT zero degrees...
since it was 210 fahrenheit, there was not a snow leopard in sight


next stop...
Japanese macaques
***snow*** monkeys


OK, so see that white plastic looking thing on the ground?
Well, it's plastic.
And see that circle-hole thing on the front?
That's a hole cut out of the plastic thing.
A ***snow*** monkey is sitting in that white plastic thing, poking his head out
and EATING the plastic
taking bites and chewing and swallowing

WHY???

Because he's a SNOW MONKEY from Japan
sitting in the middle of 210 degree NYC
and his poor monkey brain is so fried from the heat
he's eating plastic
I feel sick

Polar Bears
oh boy.... the rant continues


sub-zero weather???
so what if it's 210 degrees???

by this point, the kids have caught on...
Ty says...
this is the Arctic section... it's supposed to be cold
there are no polar bears here
Mia says...
there's the polar bear
see his feet sticking out??
Jack says...
I see him breathing... a little...
but he looks like a throw rug
Ty says...
I'm hot



Kiss my cold wet arctic ass



OK enough of this arctic bullshit... lets try tropical rainforest 

Aaahd laaak meeea paira boots made outta heeyim

aye aye aye


Sunday, August 2, 2009

I gotta feelin

I feel like a child
Despite what I do for a living
Despite the hard mature decisions I've had to make
Despite the fact that I was 8 days old when JFK was assasinated...

I still feel like I'm a kid
I kinda look like a kid mostly just good genes

So when I hear this song...
                                             




It makes me happy

OK, so it's POP
It's trendy
I sing it at work and the young med techs laugh... Michelle, we didn't know you listen to the 
Black Eyed Peas

I blame it on my kids

This song makes me feel like I'm 17 again
with a driver's license, a carful of girlfriends, and a tan

Only now it's my minivan full of kids
we're singing loud and smiling huge
and we all have savage tans

Tonight's gonna be a good night




Your fairy is called Columbine Icedancer
She is a bone chilling bringer of justice for the vulnerable.
She lives in mushroom fields and quiet meadows.
She is only seen when the bees swarm and the crickets chirrup.
She wears lilac and purple like columbine flowers. She has icy blue butterfly wings.