just eat it

try try again

2011-12-11T19:10:00.003-05:00

Do you know how many posts I've started today?

Three. Maybe four.

And they've all sucked. I've been trying to write just for the sake of writing.

It's not working so well for me. Maybe because I'm not a writer, I'm a storyteller.

Whatever.

So Let's Tell A Story.

Once Upon A Time there was a Woman-Girl named Michelle.

Towards the end of the first half century in her current body, when she found herself more Woman than Girl, she swore that she wanted to be ALONE.

Even when her Best Woman-Girlfriends said you want someone who is fully available to you you want someone to sit on the couch and watch movies and eat popcorn with your kids you deserve BETTER, she said

I. Do. Not.

Not that the Woman-Girl Michelle believed she didn't DESERVE better, she just didn't believe she wanted...

...that...

Why would she want some Man hanging out with her kids? That just sounded really complicated and tiring. Why would she want someone around all the time? Michelle was used to flying solo. Michelle did not want to share. Michelle did not want to compromise. Michelle did not want to consider or even think about someone else. Michelle did not want her life to be any more stressful than it already was.

Michelle just wanted to do her thing her own way and maybe have a little... umm... distraction... once or twice a week.

Hence her search on Match.com for The Male Equivalent to a Calgon Bath.

Well. After her Close Encounter With The Schizophrenic who was very nice and very smart but also very complicated, she almost gave up. And just when she was very easily resigning herself to her Solo Life, she got a wink. From a very smart, very funny, very talented, and super sweet Man.

His name was Calgon Jon. He took her on The Sweetest First Date Ever.

Very quickly, Calgon Jon was around way more than once or twice a week. He was kind of around all the time. He made yummy omelettes and told stories about growing up in Alaska. He was quiet and easy to be around. He let Mia read to him and was a super computer geek AND a musician and taught Ty all kinds of cool computer things. He knew about current events and could toss an f*bomb to rival Jack. And he was goofy and quirky and made Michelle laugh. And they all got junked out on Glee together.

It was so easy.

Calgon Jon said Michelle was beautiful even when her mustache was heavier than his.

Calgon Jon smoked a pipe and smelled really good.

Calgon Jon had a Magic Tongue.

WHAT??? there has to be a Magic something in a story. Right???

Until the weekend when his Job took him away. His Job had been a perk as far as Michelle was concerned. Sometimes he had to wake up at 5am. Sometimes he worked weird hours on weekends. Sometimes he had a random day off that coincided with Michelle's day off and that was just a goddamn treat. Michelle was very comfortable with the unpredictable hours. It made her feel safe. Because, you know, Michelle didn't want to get too used to someone being around all the time.

That's not how Michelle functions. Michelle is not good at depending on people.

So Calgon Jon was AWAY. And regular life happened on a regular Saturday and a regular Sunday and the Woman-Girl Michelle realized it was easier when Calgon Jon was around. Sure it was nice for someone else to make breakfast or entertain the kids. But Calgon Jon had some Magic Mojo along with his Magic Tongue. Calgon Jon's Magic Mojo made The Sanctuary a more peaceful place to be.

And life on this weekend without Calgon Jon was making Michelle the Woman-Girl sad and angry and lonely. She told the kids it was her goddamn ovaries. And that was not a lie. But it was also over-scheduling and unfolded laundry and being an "ex" and...

...life...

By Sunday Michelle was On the Verge of Tears.

Angry tears. Sad tears. Tired tears.

Progesterone tears god i hate progesterone tears

And then, Calgon Jon came home.

And all the Life Shit was still there, but now Michelle the Woman-Girl could breathe and smile. Because Calgon Jon was Home.

Fuck you Match.

summer's almost over...YAY

2011-09-05T14:48:00.000-04:00

it's been a summer of:

117 smelly 14 year old boys in my house

every day

and

every night

lots

and lots

company

a million gazillion

kids

sisters

friends

friends who are sisters

aunts

kids

sisters' kids

kids of friends who are like sisters

oldest friend from high school

who is like a sister

who was my date for

our

30th high school reunion

aack

lots

and lots

margaritas

lots

and lots

bags of ice

cuz my fridge lacks an ice maker

and margaritas need ice

lots of time swimming

I mean

skimming

the pool

shocking the pool

vacuuming the pool

on Memorial Day

I knew nothing about pools

lesson learned:

DO NOT PAY anyone to do anything

you can learn to do yourself

by checking out YouTube

seriously

anyway

summer's almost over

YAY

my feet are calloused from

working outside

my nails are broken

my legs are hairy

my eyebrows are

out of control

cuz some kid used

my tweezers

to feed crickets to

the turtle

I could not find

the dead skin heel scraper thing

I bought

to scrape my

dead heel skin

who knows what some kid used that for

so...

Ty is such a good boy

Happy Labor Day Mamas

If You Give Your Kid a Meat Muffin...

2011-08-21T21:34:00.004-04:00

OK. Not really a Meat Muffin. Beef Stroganoff.

If your kid asks for Beef Stroganoff, even if it's in the middle of a New York heat wave, of course you'll say "Yes".

And then you'll have to buy meat. From BJ's. Because the Amish farmer is not delivering this week.

And then it will be so damn hot that you just can't imagine browning big chunks of industrial meat over a hot stove, let alone ladling up steaming bowls of stroganoff.

Even if the stroganoff is to be eaten with buttered egg noodles. Because everyone knows nothing beats buttered egg noodles.

So you'll put the 3lb package of industrial meat chunks in the refrigerator for a week.

And a week later it will still be too hot to cook.

So then you'll put the big package of meat in the freezer.

And wait for cooler weather.

Then after a few weeks cooler weather will come. And you'll be in the mood to cook.

And not only is the weather cooler, but the forecast is for rain all week.

And finally you can imagine standing over the stove and browning meat chunks.

And eating Beef Stroganoff.

So you take the giant package of frozen meat chunks out of the freezer and put it on top of the coffee maker. To thaw. Because the counter is covered with other stuff and the refrigerator is full.

And during the day, your 9yr old daughter will look at the giant meat chunks thawing atop the coffee maker and say "mommy... we're gonna get salmonella"

And you say, "that's silly, honey, we're not gonna get salmonella"

Then in the evening, after the meat has been thawed for hours, you get around to browning it. Cuz you were doing other stuff all day.

And you mix it with red wine and Lipton Onion Soup Mix and some water and throw it in the crock pot so the babysitter doesn't have to think about cooking the next day.

And it cooks on low all night and in the morning there is yummy oniony tender beef in the crock pot. And you add the sour cream and leave the egg noodles out. And that night the kids say "mommy the Beef Stroganoff was SO GOOD. Even the vegetarian babysitter ate it"

And two days later you'll notice a dried puddle of dark red stuff on the black granite counter, and you'll say "what the fuck?"

And you'll wipe it up with a washcloth and then sniff it. Because that's what moms do.

And you'll realize it's dried meat juice.

Then two days after that, you'll smell something like super rotten potatoes in your kitchen.

And you'll take out the garbage and check the refrigerator and clean out the sink drain and check the dishwasher and still not be able to locate the source of the stench.

Then two days after that, you'll be hosting the annual family reunion for your in-laws because that's what you do every summer.

And your in-laws will be so nice that they will stand in the kitchen chatting and

not mention the smell that reminds you of a Chinatown fish market in August.

But the One Who Made Them Your Inlaws will move around your kitchen preparing food, and because you are such good friends and can say anything to each other he will say "Michelle, what is that smell?"

And after the in-laws have left, and you've made dinner for the kids and had a margarita you'll decide to set a fresh pot of coffee for the morning.

And when you take the water holder thingy out of the coffee maker, you'll find that it's sitting in an inch and a half of 6 day old slimy red meat juice.

Then you will submerge the entire do not submerge coffee maker in the sink and scrub the whole thing with Cucumber Method Dish Soap. And you will curse.

Then your 9 year old smart ass daughter will walk into the kitchen, clap her hand over her nose and mouth, and say "see mommy, I told you... salmonella"

And your 14 year old who is 2 rooms away will mutter "what smells like ass?"

And you'll spend the next 20 minutes cleaning and sniffing and cleaning and sniffing every crack and crevice of your coffee maker until it no longer smells like a Chinatown fish market in August.

And you'll set your coffee for the morning.

And then you'll tuck your 11 yr old in, because he still likes to be tucked in by his mommy, and he'll say "mom, when can you make Beef Stroganoff again?"

what he's good for...

2011-08-13T08:09:00.002-04:00

It's been one crazy summer.

My new sanctuary has become The Sanctuary For Many.

Sister Adrienne deemed it The House of Wayward Souls.

And so it has been.

Many a wayward soul, teenaged boy, high school best friend, separated at birth never met before maternal aunt, random neighborhood kids, and very pregnant friends, have spent time in this Beacon Satellite Chapel of the Batshit Crazy.

There are always at least 3 of Jack's friends here all the time. Like 24/7 all the time.

It's like I live with Beevus and Butthead.

Total. Chaos.

It's like Neverland Lord of the Flies. And I'm Wendy.

No rules. except don't break my house

They've existed on pizza, toaster strudel, and microwavable cheeseburgers from BJs.

No fruit.

Nothing green except gatorade

Lots of Coke. Lots of XBox. Lots of time in the pool.

And they ALWAYS eat standing up. Or walking around.

The only time they SIT and eat is when they're huddled around a computer screen.

It's all good. They've been happy.

*****

This week we've iv'e had a bit of a reprieve.

Bruce has taken the boys to San Francisco.

No XBox. No computers. Lots of good food and lots of new experience.

And lots of time with their Dad

I got this email today

Subject: Your Boys

I took the boys to a very nice Northern Italian restaurant. Not TOO fancy, but very nice, very good food and very grown up. I taught them how read a menu like that, and how to decide what to order.

We learned about putting ones napkin on ones lap, and about puting bread on a bread plate. Also about putting butter on your butter plate, NOT just reaching over your dinner companion, and then buttering your bread. We lerned about sitting up straight and not cramming food into one's mouth.

We learned about how to get a server's attention without waving one's arms in the air or calling out loud for the waiter. Ty ordered the ricotta stuffed raviolis ( homemade) with veal Bolognese.

Jack ordered the lemon-scented risotto with Monterey prawns stuffed with crab in a delicate lemon butter sauce. We learned about the differences between Northern and Southern Italian cuisine.

They learned about when you finish your meal to place your silverware diagonally across the top of your plate.

They BOTH loved it and felt so grown-up. I was so proud of them, as you surely would have been

How awesome is that?

Who's The Man?

2011-07-16T09:34:00.002-04:00

What happened to this lady?

Or this one?

And this one?

OK. Fine. I wouldn't click on the links either...

What happened to the grow our own food local farmer's market raw milk contraband meat grind my own wheat make my own bread no fast food no soda no sugar make it from scratch mama who only ate eggs from her very own chickens?

Where the fuck is she?

She's vamoosed.

*****

Last week Ty said to me mom you're like The Man AND The Woman.

You do all the Man Things** and you also do all the Woman Things.

Tonight I made spaghetti and frozen meatballs no msg first ingredient beef second ingredient pork because tacos required TOO MUCH damn EFFORT.

I said half to Jack and half to myself it's ok if i don't cook i work full time and take care of 3 kids and i'm The Man so i don't have to cook

Jack said mom you are so not the man you can't bitch about your period and have no balls when it comes to mia and call yourself The Man.

He's got a point.

I talk about my period A LOT.

Jack advises ibuprofen and a lot of water.

Ty looks at me like I have two heads and says mom didnt you JUST HAVE your period?

poor things

And he's right. I have no balls with Mia.

So. Back to claiming my manhood in the presence of my adolescent son.

Mom, you're not gonna go all lesbian on us are you? i mean it's ok if you do but you won't... right?

No honey. I like men

How many of you are thinking omg how inappropriate?

how many of you are thinking I wish I could be that open with my kid?

Whatever. I fall somewhere in the space between.

*****

The point is, I've decided to cut myself some slack.

I work.

I work hard.

I work long hours.

I bring home my share of the bacon.

Ty fries it up in a pan. He's a much better cook than I.

I juggle my kids. And all their friends.

I'm the Cool Mom.

My home is the place they all choose to be.

They'd all rather be here than anywhere else.

That's pretty neat.

So what if I don't cook from scratch?

So what if BJ's is my new favorite place to shop?

I buy industrial meat patties in bulk and the boys know how to fire up the bar b q and they live on hamburgers and hot dogs and toaster strudel and oreos.

And Coke.

They all eat standing up and on the move and never at the dining room table.

They don't even use plates.

Who gives a shit?

Not me. I have my own plate and there's plenty on it.

I'll ignore the voice in my head reminding me about the importance of family dinner, cooking for loved ones, communion, and you are what you eat.

The kids are way happier with me not cooking.

I come home with a trunkful of frozen ready to microwave food and they throw their arms around me and say we love you mom you're the best mom in the world all this food we're set for LIFE.

And I count up the 4 or 5 14 yr olds and the 2 or 3 10 yr olds and a couple a 9 yr olds and random neighborhood kids and if we're lucky some cousins and I say we're set for the weekend. Maybe.

*****

I pulled the wrong way out of a parking spot today leaving Ty's cello concert and ripped the bumper off my new car.

But dammit if I didn't get down on my hands and knees in my dress and yank that fucker out from underneath the car so I could drive my broken car home.

I don't need no stinkin tow truck.

I don't need no stinkin help.

I don't need no stinkin man.

Though it did cross my mind to call roadside assistance.

FUCK THAT

I can do it myself. Just like a 2 year old.

Though it is kinda funny how many men will offer their assistance and experience and help when they realize I'm a "single mom"

the tree guy

the fence guy

the mover guy

the painter guy

the electrical guy

sometimes I pull the smile bat my lashes and play dumb act

most times it doesn't feel like an act

So who's the man?

**Never fear. Bruce is no Dead Beat Dad. And he's a good friend. As he always has been.

match this

2011-07-10T12:08:00.002-04:00

I put myself on Match

Match?

Yes. Match.

Match.

Dot.

Com.

Seriously.

What else am I supposed to do?

Either I'm at work or I'm at home. Which is fine. I actually LIKE my life the way it is.

But it leaves no possibility for meeting an Eligible Bachelor.

though I was asked to dinner by Fred Sanford's twin while on line at Rite Aid

I hate parties. I hate bars. I don't dance.

I'm 47 goddammit.

When I was 27 I had already been hating that shit for a decade.

I'm anti-social. I like being by myself. I don't want to talk to anyone.

But you already know that about me.

I also like MEN. I like being the object of someone's desire.

I like kissing.

I like that tingly feeling.

I like realizing that I'm 47 and I can still feel the way I felt a decade before I was 27 when I was am making out with a boy man in a parked car.

But alas that's all I like want.

I don't want to play house with anyone.

I don't want anyone around my kids.

I don't want to compromise or adjust or negotiate or sacrifice dammit.

Life has been UnBloggable for a while now. I've been distracted.

Sister Adrienne is shocked that there is actually stuff I won't blog about.

But I need to Protect the Innocent.

The Unbloggable was wrapped up in every breath I took.

It was in my head my first and last minutes of consciousness day and night.

It couldn't be extricated from any thought or any moment of my day.

It colored all my waking hours.

Jordana said Write about the kids. Write about current events.

I couldn't write about anything without the haloed head of The Unbloggable rising up and blinding my ability to think straight.

So.

Now The Unbloggable is No More.

It's fine.

It was wonderful while it lasted and it was never gonna be anything other than short and sweet. And that's what it was.

Hence my foray into Internet Dating.

Aack

I set up my profile about 2 weeks ago.

It's deliberately weird and wacky to scare away the straights as Bruce would say.

The question What are you looking for? got the answer I'm looking for the male equivalent to a Calgon Bath.

Jordana and Shannon Did Not Approve. I guess I sounded like a hootch.

I just wanted to be clear that I'm not looking for a LTR long term relationship.

All the blah blah blah about walks in the park and perfect matches and the rest of our lives made me want to vomit.

So. I received a bunch of winks and a bunch of emails.

And one stood out.

Something in his profile made me laugh out loud at 7:30 in the morning.

10 points for an early a.m. laugh.

We emailed back and forth and he kept me laughing in a not trying too hard I'm just an idiot kinda way that was really charming.

He didn't seem to take himself too seriously. Creative. Smart.

Seemed like someone I could have fun with.

Even Sister Adrienne cracked up reading the email exchanges. Very funny guy.

There were only one or two red flags...

So we met one afternoon this week. A pre-date date.

Within 3 minutes I learned he has a SIGNIFICANT psychiatric disorder for which the doctors are having a hard time finding the right medication.

are you kidding me?

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME???

Well. Still a nice, funny, intelligent guy. He thinks if he finds the Right Woman he won't need medication at all because Love will solve his problem.

Bless His Heart as Ms. Moon would say. But I am NOT that woman.

I'm off Match.

Rapture Smapture and Mother's Day Redemption

2011-05-21T23:14:00.001-04:00

It's 6:02
The boys tell me The Rapture is coming at 6pm
Eastern or pacific?
Eastern cause America rules
Sarcastic brats
They booked a trip to Disney World
Just in case

Today was the first sunny day in what feels like forever ain't no sunshine when he's gone

I planted the Mother's Day Nervous Breakdown Geranium in its designated spot

*****

backstory

Mother's Day sucked. Hard. Like it always does.

2 parts hormones 1 part grief 1 part self indulgence

Blek

Early that morning the texts started coming in.

Sisters, friends, my realtor, my student.

A Happy Mothers Day Michele from someone who is not a mother but holds a particularly special place in my heart.

Mid-day I thought about my mom and my eyes started leaking.

She was here last Mother's Day.

I don't remember what we did. I don't remember if I saw her. Or called her.

Sisters what did we do?

Then late in the day I see this on my porch.

And I have no idea who it's from

Let me tell you, this beautiful geranium wreaked havoc with my progesterone filled brain. Between who I wanted the damn thing to be from and who I was worried it was from I ended up a sobbing mess rescued by the strong mama arms of Yogini Shannon.

Sobbing mess.

Like train wreck sobbing mess.

Damn ovaries. Damn Mother's Day.

*****

Flash forward to this week.

Turns out the Nervous Breakdown Geranium was from Andrew's grandparents.

Andrew is my 4th child.

Best friend to Jack. Big Bro Pal to Ty.

Destined to be one of Mia's husbands. ssshhh... don't tell them I said that

He pretty much lives with us. He's awesome.

As are his grandparents.

They brought me flowers on Mother's Day and left them on the porch.

The flowers were not from whom I wanted nor from whom I feared.

They were, however, from those who truly appreciate my mama qualities.

And that's all it's really about.

Right?

So today, the first sunny day in forever, I planted the geraniums in my lovely garden.

I thought it appropriate to sprinkle some Ashes in the hole.

mix my ashes with daddy's and divide them up and sprinkle them in your gardens

one of the last things She said to us

That's what She wanted. That's what She got.

Fine powdery dust with some hard chunks kept in a jar She made when She took up pottery.

No ceremony. No ritual. Just my knowledge and remembrance of this particular Mother's Day mixed with the soil and ashes to feed the roots of the 2011 Mother's Day Nervous Breakdown Flowers.

I sprinkled the ashes.

I looked at the powdery dust on my hand.

I put my fingers to my face and took a deep breath IN.

I felt the dust on my lips and nose.

It tasted a little bit salty.

Then I called Ty

and Jack

and Mia

And made them all breathe in the ashes of their Grums and Gramps.

Redemption.

chaotic sanctuary

2011-05-21T07:49:00.003-04:00

or sanctuarily chaotic

or both

I'm still here. We are still here. All is good. Just insanely busy.

I don't have anything particularly mindful or illuminating or funny to say.

Just hello

And I miss you all. I haven't even been visiting, there's so much going on.

But it's all good.

So much to do here.

There are still 4 baskets of clean clothes that were moved from the pink and purple house a month ago and have yet to be folded and put away.

I guess maybe they're not too clean anymore.

Ah lah

But drawing a Giant Dancing Ganesh on the living room wall and wandering in and tending my new beautiful garden is more important than clean clothes.

Or grocery shopping for that matter.

bad mommy

Still it's all good

I love my new home. It's beautiful. It's becoming Home. It's Coming Home.

The kids love it.

There are at least a million of them here all the time and every one is happy.

Yogini Shannon and Jordana are right around the corners and I get to see them all the time. Some big wig psychiatrist at Stanford wrote an article that said when we women hang together it increases our serotonin levels and helps us live longer and a daily dose of girlfriends is just as important to our health as exercise and a good diet.

So there you go.

I bet visiting blogland has the same effect as having coffee or wine or lunch with our sister-wives/girlfriends. I know it makes me smile and lifts me up. I wouldn't stop blogging anymore than I'd stop my Prozac.

And that's saying a lot.

It's been raining for 10 days straight and everything's crazy green.

There's a promise of sun today so I'll make another promise of picts tomorrow.

xoxoxo

For Sister Adrienne

2011-05-03T06:35:00.007-04:00

Disclaimer:

This is only the opinion of the author.

The events are fictional and names have been changed.

The author has her head up her ass and does not fact check.

These are her opinions.

thank you

*****

I wrote this yesterday morning, on my Crackberry, in between patients, to prevent my head from exploding after hearing snippets of news reports on my way to work.

Ovarianly speaking, this is the wrong time of the month for me to be dealing with anything more than peanut butter and jelly sandwiches or how to manage your kid's allergies.

I had an early morning text rant with Sister Adrienne and told her I was posting, but by the time my 12 hour day was done, I was tired and I had the feeling more blah blah blah had hit the airwaves so my original post might be old news.

But here it is.

I'll catch up today, and maybe I'll need to rant some more depending on what I hear.

Or maybe I'll just post picts of my new house.

The original title was Something Stinks So Bad I Think I'm Gonna Throw Up

*****

At 8:02 this morning I got a text from Jack

osama died last night
me: Wait. WHAT?
Jack: obama made an announcement last night

So on the way to work I tuned in to my beloved Amy Goodman for her leftist pinko commie view on the newsworthy events of the day. Her show ended and I switched to NPR for more info.

Bin Laden's ummm...demise.... was alternately referred to as his death or that he was killed by navy seals

Death?
Killed?
As in natural or accidental?

Can anyone say assassination?

I asked Sister Adrienne if there were too many s's and she said no just too many asses.

All I'm saying is call a spade a spade goddammit

Oh. Right. Asassination violates our Constitution or U.N. rules or something.

haha look at that if I leave out the punctuation it's unrules

Just sayin'

All the liberal pundits talked about the threat of retaliation, the war on terror is not yet over, Americans have gathered and are cheering at Ground Zero and in D.C. and blah blah blah

Are you fuckin kidding me?

Like I said, call a spade a spade people

We will not leave Afghanistan for the same reason we haven't left Iraq

War=Money

War is a money maker plain and simple.

It has nothing to do with morals or human rights or protecting democracy or any other lofty ideal.

It's certainly not in the name of god. Whichever name may that may be

For forever and a day humans have waged war for land and what that land holds

gold

diamonds

fertile land

Its about money
Its about contracts
Its about oil and other natural resources.

It is NOT about preventing crimes against humanity or preservation of democracy

It's about that element that was NOT on the periodic table a million years ago when I took chemistry but it starts with a c

as in congo

and is required for all computer chips from our cell phones to our desktops and who knows what else. It's probably in at least a dozen gadgets and gizmos in my own home that I tell myself are a necessity but god knows are just a luxury.

I am complicit too

That's all there is to it

Oh. And I love the part about Bin Laden being buried at sea.

Seriously?

There's just so much shit smell here I can barely breathe

Crazy Dr. Arlene explained last night that the buried at sea thing was so there would be no shrine.

I said what about tissue samples? DNA? Forget photos.

She laughed and said they should have buried him in the middle of Israel then they wouldn't have to worry about a shrine.

She's a hot mess and cracks me up.

*****

Addendum:

Jack is filling me in as I post. He said they wanted him captured to be tried for war crimes bullshit or dead yup.

He's a pretty reliable source. I'd rather get my info from him than the New York Times. That rag sucks.

just sayin'

Circles

2011-04-21T02:44:00.008-04:00

It's two thirty in the morning and I'm walking in circles.

Again

Seems like I've been walking in circles for weeks

Circles in the pink and purple house where's the duct tape where's the sharpie why am i up here why am i down here there's so much to do

And now circles in the new house where's that extension cord which box has the napkins mom where's the iPad charger where are my danskos why am i up here why am i down here there's so much to do

Right now it's where's the incense? ssshh... the kids are sleeping

lesson #1

to avoid the circles label the damn boxes

caveat to lesson #1

if you're not gonna label the boxes unpack them and put the damn stuff away

I know the incense is here somewhere cause I've been burning it to mask the smell of cat pee.

All the neighborhood cats apparently have found a way in to the basement and made it their Gaza Strip.

They pee on top of pee to claim the area as their own.

I turn on the heat forced hot air and the whole house smells like cat pee

charming

Well the Dusty dog is here now and the cats are staying away.

the Universe Is Abundant

I drive in circles now that our home is on the other side of town and most of the time when I'm in the car 147 things are going on in my head and I'm on autopilot and realize I'm heading to the pink and purple house instead of the round window house

i'll post picts tomorrow ms. moon i promise

lesson #2

to avoid circles pay attention while behind the wheel

I drove Jack all the way to the city on Tuesday for an appointment scheduled six weeks ago with a specialist who is not covered by my shitty health insurance that I pay a thousand dollars a month for but doesn't cover ANYTHING my kids truly need the best therapist around sorry out of network no reimbursement the only surgeon in the fucking state who will fix jack's ribcage with a brace rather than surgery sorry if it's not compromising his heart or his lungs it's considered cosmetic. fuck you health insurance he's a thirteen year old boy whose ribcage is growing funny and it's gonna keep growing funny don't fucking tell me its cosmetic

rant

oh. right. circles. sorry.

So we got to the Children's Hospital my how things have changed since my school days here and the nice secretary tells me she called twice to let me know the appointment had been cancelled because of Passover didn't you get the message?

Anyone who knows me in real life knows I do not answer my phone.

I don't like talking on the phone i text and I certainly don't answer the home phone.

There are routinely a dozen messages blinking away that the babysitter or the kids check and I just ignore.

Apparently two of those messages would have informed me I did not need to pull Jack out of school and drive in a 140 mile circle to the city on Tuesday. But since I do not check my messages I drove that big circle.

I chalk it up to 3 hours of alone time with Jack not a bad thing at all.

I still haven't checked the 9 messages blinking on the home phone since it was connected on Monday wonder what other important messages are there...

lesson #3

to avoid the circles check the messages

So up I am at 2:30 a.m. 'cause I was too hot. I read the electric blanket control upside down and thought it was on L for low but it was really 7 which is damn hot and the dog had me pinned in my new bed which is making me all achey so I'm going to drive in a circle tomorrow and upgrade to the stoopid expensive mattress I wanted in the first place

But for the first time in YEARS I have my bed to myself.

Ty and Mia are feeling comfy and safe in their new beds in their new bedrooms in the new house and I am no longer a squashed sardine in a bed with two kids two cats and the dog.

the Universe Is Abundant

lesson #4

to avoid circles buy the thing that you REALLY want if you can afford it

caveat: especially if it's something important that you may have for the rest of your life.

like a bed or a car or a house

So I woke up hot and thirsty with my brain going in circles with all the stuff I need to get done and the smell of last night's tacos in the air yuck

I got up to light some incense and walked up down and around this big old house unable to find the incense but I did find the computer.

all is not lost

Like I said the Universe Is Abundant

Kid-less liberation

2011-04-11T07:07:00.002-04:00

It was a kid-less weekend.

For the most part.

The boys went off for an overnight with Bruce early Saturday, and I drove Mia down to Sister Melanie's for a girls' night.

And then I was by myself.

The last time I had 24 hours to myself I mopped the floors.

That was almost 2 years ago.

*****

Saturday morning I read this.

Thanks NOLA.

It's about the atrocities being committed in Cote d'Ivoire and folks try to cross into Liberia.

It left me feeling afraid and sad and angry and embarrassed and disgusted at the ability for people to be conduits of evil

and awestruck at the ability for people to survive.

how do you go on?

It left me feeling deep gratitude oh my god i can't imagine thank you we're safe here

It made me pray all day.

If that's what you call it.

*****

So I didn't mop. I tried to pack. Again.

We've yet to have more than a handful of perfect spring days. Saturday was one of them.

Pack schmack. I'm gonna do yard work.

I mean, why should the new tenants have to deal with a whole winter worth of Dusty shit bombs in the back yard?

Right?

And I needed some sunshine on my shoulders.

So I picked up all the dog poop.

I removed the blue balls and Christmas lights from the porch it looks plucked and bald unadorned

I cleared some of the dead weeds leftover from the fall.

I picked up all the shingles that this wicked winter tore off the roof.

I looked to see if the lilacs were budding.

Half of the lilac hedge is bent in submission.

I thought it was from last year's Snowmageddon.

All that heavy snow took the poor lilacs down.

I thought they'd spring back in the spring, but they spent the whole year remaining prostrate, unable to stand tall.

I took a closer look.

Those beautiful lilacs were being strangled by some

nasty vining choking look alike fuckers that were relentlessly taking them down.

Fuck that.

Fuck you. You can't strangle my lilacs goddamit.

No fuckin way.

Clippers. Handsaw. No gloves.

I spent 2 hours liberating the lilacs.

My hands were scratched and bleeding halfway to my elbows.

Fuck you vine you cannot do this you think you can do this? you cannot strangle the lilacs i'm gonna cut you off at you're ankles so fuck you. I'll bleed and my skin will sting and my nails will break but fuck you i'm taking you down with my bare hands. fuck gloves. fuck you.

ummm... michelle... it's just a vine doing it's viney thing. And they're just lilacs.

It wasn't until my fourth trip dragging away the defeated vines michelle what the fuckin fuck is goin on in your head?

oh. right. Cote d'Ivoire was goin on in my head.

talk about transference.

*****

After that I had to get out of the house.

So I got in the car all dirty and smelly and scratched up with leaves and briars in my hair thinking I need a new bed.

The Sleepy's sales lady didn't bat an eye at my appearance but I was certainly ready with a look lady I was liberating the downtrodden and my knees and my back hurt and I want a nice new soft bed for my nice new house so the next time there's liberating to be done I won't be so achey.

Not a chance. Liberation is hard work. It leaves bruises.

yummy soft yummy bed to be delivered to the new house next week. yum

*****

By the time I got home I was done.

Fuck packing. I'm tired. I'll pack another day.

Drank a beer and took a shower. My hands stung from the scratches. Guess it was my Purple Heart.

Made up my makeshift bed on the living room floor.

Drank another beer and ate leftover chinese and watched Season 2 of Lost.

*****

I woke up Sunday morning in a quiet house feeling safe and calm and yummy and

a little liberated.

my undisciplined soul is still here

2011-04-05T15:30:00.007-04:00

that's why your soul picks this time to come

because in the discipline that it takes for you

to keep on keepin on

it's a discipline that your soul requires

that's what she told me

20 years ago

dang that angel lady gail was right again

A few weeks ago Dr Jim another crazy doc whom i absolutely adore

asked me if I have another job on the side or run a not-for-profit or something

????

it just seems like you're the kind of person who would be doing all sorts of amazing things really well you're like a power house

????

are you fuckin kidding me?

Jim. I am the least disciplined person you could ever meet. If I didn't have a load of external pressures I'd be sitting home watching tv all day long drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes in the morning and drinking wine and smoking cigarettes in the evening.

you smoke?

I think he missed my point.

But I sure have him fooled.

*****

So. After 6 months of trying to close on a new house it's fukin beautiful we're almost there.

Sanctuary. Me and the kids.

Are we packed yet?

No we are not.

I keep telling myself we don't have a lot of stuff we don't and the tenants for the pink and purple house aren't moving in till May 1

so I have 6 weeks oh now it's 3 weeks of overlap.

So every Tuesday and Thursday for the past 3 months I've chosen to go to yoga then chat with Shannon then meet Jordana for lunch then do a little grocery shopping maybe and cook something from scratch which the kids will refuse to eat instead of packing.

I have plenty of time.

We don't have that much stuff.

*****

Today I decided to exercise some discipline.

Texted Shannon no yoga this-week packing.

Texted Jordana gotta be productive this week and get some stuff done.

There. I said it. It's out there. Now I have to get down to business.

Forget that I forgot Mia had a class trip today and needed to pack a lunch.

Pack a lunch?

No peanut butter.

No turkey.

American cheese and jelly eeewww

Mommy can I take pancakes?

How bout leftover mac n cheese?

I nuked the mac n cheese and wrapped it in tin foil.

Mommy it has to be small enough to fit in this bag.

She showed me the tiny gift bag that had held her birthday present from The Most Awesome Babysitter Amy.

Honey? Where's the gerbil?

backstory

last week Mia concocted all this weird goo stuff with cornstarch and water and food coloring.

It was really fun to play with and maybe the gerbils would like to play in it too.

So when she came down and asked if she could clean the gerbils I thought she was asking if she could clean the cage.

I'm a trifle deaf in one ear.

gerbil + cornstarch glue + gerbil bath = hypothermic gerbil which I did my best to revive = dead gerbil

bummer

She wrapped him in a little blue blanket.

Damn if he didn't look just like Stuart Little.

Honey? We have to bury him.

No mommy I want to keep him with me forever it's all my fault that he died.

Honey you can't keep him. We can bury him here or we can bury him in the new house in your garden patch.

You don't have to decide right now, but you have to decide soon.

She fell asleep with him on her pillow.

I moved him to the bedside table.

The next morning she put on her coat and grabbed her backpack and put him in the tiny gift bag and looked at me with defiance.

Honey. You cannot take him to school

glare. defiance. try to stop me. glare

Mia. Trust me. If anyone finds out you have a Dead Animal at school they'll take him from you.

It's a Health Code Violation trust me honey he has to stay here

I guess possibility of the Department of Health putting the school on lockdown was enough for her leave him home.

She popped him in the freezer.

All swaddled in blue, resting in the gift bag.

Next to the toaster strudel.

That was 10 days ago

So today as I'm putting the mac n cheese cause we have no turkey and no peanut butter cause i totally lack discipline and we have like 150 tortillas but nothing to make a sandwich with in the tiny gift bag and trying to convince Mia to wear a rain poncho cause it's raining out and they're going hiking in a swamp and she looks at me like I have two heads rain poncho are you kidding me? and dons her leopard print short stylish trenchcoat and I want her to wear her snow boots and she says no way ok maybe the rainboots which she agrees to because I can even make rainboots look good i say where's the gerbil?

Ty says he's in the freezer in a brown paper bag

OK. Fine.

As long as he's in the freezer and not on a kitchen counter or her dresser or something.

*****

So. Time to be productive. Time to pack.

I walked back and forth from room to room looking for the goddamfuckin duct tape that I told the kids they had to put back in the drawer so when I started packing I could find it.

No duct tape.

fuckin fuckin fuckin goddammit. i hate this shit.

Well. I actually got some stuff packed.

A few more boxes.

A few more bags of shit to throw out.

A few more square feet of cleared space in the attic.

A few more loads of laundry.

At some point it occurred to me is it really weird that I let Mia take her lunch in the bag that's been holding her Dead Gerbil for 10 days?

Is that problematic?

Poor judgement?

Whatever.

11 a.m. and Jordana tempts me with lunch.

She is the Eve to my Adam and lunch at Max's is the Goddam Fuckin Apple.

AND she knows how extraordinarily undisciplined I really am.

She had a good laugh this morning when she drove past and saw the Christmas lights and Blue Balls are still hanging on the porch.

Well.

Inasmuch as I'm going to lunch instead of packing I might as well write. Right?

Completely undisciplined.

awareness and a promise

2011-03-26T19:17:00.004-04:00

So if a tree falls in the forest and there is no one present to hear it, does it make a sound?

And are things in the world extraordinarily astoundingly sucky?

Or are we just more aware thanks to Bill Gates and the cable guy.

And if my fat cat pukes and I don't know till I step in it and there's cat vomit between my toes goddammit,

was the puke there before I put my foot in it?

I don't know. Ask the fuckin tree that fell down.

Mia has been in a particularly torturous place of pain for a few months now.

Getting info out of her is like pulling teeth.

But Linda the Good Witch is really good with Mia's teeth. It's remarkable.

And damn, Sisters, those teeth are the huge stubborn deep rooted Nichols teeth we all have.

I/She/We sob when those damn teeth get pulled.

And the space left gives us more room and less ache.

I think.

This week, when Linda is able to coax a little or big bit out of Mia, and something about it just does not sit right with me,

I'm able to get down to the dirty bottom line of it all.

sometimes i wanna be dead

OK.

So.

When my baby girl, who's been having such a hard time

no one understands me I'm invisible no one can see me somethings wrong with me

fesses up that she wants to die

wish i were dead think about hanging suicide

and in the aftermath I'm walking around with my heart in a steel vice unable to take a full breath,

is she in a worse place today than she was yesterday?

When a little girl is so sad she wants to die, and no one hears her, does she still want to die?

And when someone finally hears, and though it devastates a torpedo through my heart those who hear,

does it alleviate any of the little girl's pain and sadness?

At all?

Does my knowledge have any bearing on her pain?

Does my awareness have any bearing on her pain?

Does my pain have any bearing on her pain?

No. It does not.

She promised us she would tell me if when she has those thoughts again.

So I can help her.

That was Thursday night. She fell aleep on the way home. She is safe.

She woke up Friday morning and was ok. No different from recent mornings.

Maybe more quiet. Maybe more calm.

Maybe.

I walked around work all day yesterday with a huge deep wide hole in my chest

o honey if i could take away your pain if i could carry it for you i would.

She says it doesn't matter that we know. She doesn't feel any better.

But she won't hurt herself.

She promised.

Sunday Homily from the Beacon Satellite Chapel of the Church of the Batshit Crazy

2011-03-20T13:20:00.006-04:00

So I was all about the blah blah blah of the meaning of life and reading the Bhagavad Gita and Conversations with God

and my experience last weekend of Revival at the Abyssinian Baptist Church on Friday and kirtan with Krishna Das on Saturday.

Then on Thursday, Yogini Shannon reminded me of Ruth Stout.

I first read about Ruth and her mulching ways in Mother Earth News a few years ago.

At that time in my life, her easy laborless form of gardening struck me as snake oil being peddled out of the back of a truck.

In and amongst reading about Rudolf Steiner and biodynamic gardening according to the moons phases

and Bill Mollison and permaculture I thought, like everything else in life,

if it's not torture and exhausting and complicated and completely unattainable

well, it just must not be worth it.

I think I know better now

it's totally worth the 20 minutes to watch her in action

I wanna be this lady when I grow up.

Or better yet, be her now.

Ruth Stout

How fuckin awesome is she?

Amen

Thank you Laura

2011-03-12T10:29:00.003-05:00

I've been in a weird place lately. A little fractured. A little lost.

A lot distracted.

Uncentered. Untethered.

A lot of wine. but not a lot of whine.

I got sick of feeling out of whack and told my self I was gonna write goddammit.

I was gonna write to figure out what the fuck is my problem?

To figure out where the fuck did I go?

What the fuck am I doing?

So I started writing this on my Crackberry Thursday during my 4 hour adventure in the Land of Orthopedics getting Jack's broken finger fixed.

Lucky for me I Am Who I Am i only pull strings and drop names in an emergency otherwise it would have taken 8 hours or 2 days.

OrthoLand was immediately followed by 2 hours in Mental Health Land with Mia's awesome therapist who's a goddam Glinda the Good Witch.

Then speeding back home through torrential downpours and high winds in the dark where the fuck are those Ruby Slippers

to catch the last 7 minutes of the kids' Open House.

There was a bit of red wine later in the evening.

See? This is all over the place. Just like me lately. I'm all over the place.

*****

So. A few Christmases ago Sister Adrienne made t-shirts for everyone in our family.

We each received a black tee with our name in white block letters on the chest.

All 16 of us were a bit confused and made typical jokes about in case we get lost or in case we forget our names.
The shirts were for our Daddy. To help him remember.
He was at the stage where he remembered his children some of the time

but not all his grandchildren most of the time.

We would all descend on the house with our kids and significant others and he'd be completely overwhelmed.

He kinda knew the older grandkids but was confused by all the little ones.

Sometimes he forgot our spouses. Sometimes he forgot us.

Our mom said that he lamented that we didn't visit regardless of the frequency of our get togethers.

She would pull out pictures and point us out.

And our Daddy's frustration at seeing the photos and not remembering the visits would leave him in tears.
So Sister Adrienne made us all tshirts so we could take pictures of our nuclear families, groups of grandkids, siblings etc.

Orientation pictures. To reorient him. So he could remember. And not feel lost without us.
I don't think we ever got around to taking all the pictures.

Maybe we did and I just don't remember.

It was a really good idea, though.

The anniversary of our Daddy's birth and the anniversary of his death passed this week.

I came across my black t with MICHELLE in white block letters and I've been wearing it.

Like I said, I've felt a little lost and untethered and uncentered lately.

I wore the t shirt to try and remember Who I Am.

But how can I remember something that maybe I didn't forget cause maybe I never knew it in the first place?

Did I ever know it?

I don't remember.

Ok. So it's not that bad. But you know how it is.

Our identity is attached to our roles.

Mother sister partner health care provider yogini blogger artist.

That's easy.

It's all real and important and defining but who am I without the labels?

Am I without the labels?

That's the part I can't remember.

I know blah blah blah we are not what we do.

What we do does not define us.

I know a lot of you all struggle with the same thing.

We all struggle with Who We Are... Who Are We?

So who am I if I'm not all that stuff that's listable in the About Me section of my sidebar?

Oh. Right. There IS no About Me section in my sidebar.

Without the roles am I just a bunch of wants and desires?

Am I a bunch of thoughts and beliefs?

Am I a bunch of degrading connective tissue and shifting hormones and weird body hair?

Am I just a bunch of memories?

For however long they remain intact in my swiss cheese brain?

So who am I when I'm not being my labels?

Don't worry.

I'm not questioning my inherent self worth or beating myself up or anything like that.

I'm just trying to figure it out.

*****

That's where I got stuck writing.

You know when you just wanna tell yourself to shut the fuck up?

That's where I was on Thursday jaysus michelle shut the fuck up...

Then yesterday Laura wrote this. And she helped me remember....

It's not about what we do. It's about how we do it.

And by that I don't mean being perfect. Or being the best. Or being enviable.

I remembered Angel Gail saying to me a gazillion years ago

that's what you are michelle. you are love. that's what you bring to this world.

All the labels and all the roles are opportunities to bring love to this fucked up place.

If we can allow ourselves to see past the bullshit, our roles can give us the opportunity to be conduits of love.

A Sears Repair Man once said to me if you want to save the world, it's by one act of kindness at a time.

It's not important how it looks on the outside. It can't be compared or measured.

It can be quiet. It can be private.

It can be touching one person's heart and lifting their sadness or fear or loneliness.

Each moment we bring love, no matter how brief, is gigantic.

It's enormous.

It's miraculous and healing.

We can all do it.

Yes we can.

I did know. I just got sidetracked and forgot.

Thank you Laura, for helping me remember.

still here...

2011-03-11T08:14:00.005-05:00

Still here. Not going dark. No way.

Life is just super busy with a lot of Unbloggable and a lot of... Life.

It's all ok. We're all ok.

But Life is taking all my time and if I were a writer I might say I'm having writer's block.

I guess I'm having blogger's block. I haven't even visited you all. I miss you.

I've always been terrible at sending Thank-You cards.

Like I just don't do it.

Ever.

So...

An enormous and embarrassingly belated Thank You to all you Fierce Warrior Women

who sent so much love and support after my last post.

And thank you for leaving Mia so much bloggy love as well. It filled some of her loneliness.

You are all miracles. You are all angels.

And I am so grateful for my connection to every single one of you.

I'll be back soon

xoxoxo

Sunday Addendums and Offerings

2011-02-20T10:57:00.003-05:00

Addendum to my last post.

go here and give my baby some bloggy love

xoxoxo

She Can Do Anything

2011-02-18T23:21:00.019-05:00

Mia is having such a hard time right now.
I think maybe this is the hardest it's ever been for her.
She's scared all the time.
She says no one understands.
She begs me to get her out of the house please mommy please it's not safe.
She wants to shrivel up in a corner and die
please mommy please

She's shutting down at school.

So three therapists one developmental pediatrician and one psych nurse practitioner later,

I've found an awesome child psychiatrist who is a mix of Mr Rogers and Pete Seeger

but Jewish.

I actually think he knows what he's doing.

I actually trust him.

And I don't trust anyone when it comes to kids and mental health cause after 14 years in pediatrics I've realized that

no one knows what the fuck they're doing when it comes to brain chemistry.

Especially with kids.

It's like a goddam game of Pin the Tail On the Donkey

Anyhoo

Dr Rogers/Seeger is brilliant enough and experienced enough to spend 2 hours with us and come to the conclusion

that he's not at all sure what's going on with Mia.
ADHD?
PTSD?
Anxiety?
Depression?
All of the above?
Between what she's experienced and her genetic make-up who the fuck knows what's what.

i declined to include my suspicion that she's carrying so much shit from past lives that her now-mind doesn't know which end is up

So until therapy shines some light, we can keep her chill with clonazepam.

Which is like a long acting xanax.

That's a hard pill for me to swallow.

Jaysus she's having panic attacks.

She's 8. How much does this suck?

So I give her a pill which seems to just take the edge off.

And I think there's gotta be a better way.

She feels afraid.
She feels powerless.
She feels weak.
She feels like she has no control.

i can't calm down mommy i can't i can't get me out of here please mommy get me out of here please

How do you feel protected in the face of the unpredictable?

How do you feel safe when your foundation has crumbled?

And how do you do it when you're a little girl 5 weeks away from your 9th birthday?

ganesh help me

It doesn't matter what I say to her.

You know there's no rationalizing yourself off the panic ledge.

You can't talk yourself down and neither can anyone else.

I can't talk Mia down. i can't help her

i can't fucking see

the strength comes from down deep

hold your space hold your place the strength comes from down deep let the energy out

click the quote to visit Yogini Shannon

i can't see an answer

help me see an answer

goddammit ganesh help me

illumination

I chopped down a tree this summer and I felt INVINCIBLE

click the quote to See Kate run

I had my own hatchet growing up...It helps if you drag the downed tree through the woods for a while...

click the quote for All This Trouble

Mommy that was awesome I feel so strong I feel like I can do anything

Fierce Woman Warriors

you know who you are

Mia? Remember how you felt after we chopped down that tree?

Ye..ah..???

What if we go to Home Depot and buy you a hatchet and then we go into the woods and you can chop down a tree?

Oh.My.God.

The light that filled her eyes filled mine with tears.

She chose her hatchet.

We went into the woods and found a tree that was already down.

She balanced over a creek on a muddy hillside.

Dusty stood guard and whined when deer came too close.

I stood back.

And she chopped.

Hold the handle at the end honey. Two hands.

And she chopped.

That works better mommy.

And she chopped.

From here honey

I put 3 fingers in a vertical line thru her belly button

Swing

Chop

amazement

She looked at her hatchet and kissed it's flat side

This is your place the strength comes from down deep. Let the extra energy out

And dammit if she didn't chop the fukin shit outta that felled tree.

Then she scaled the muddy hill and disappeared into the woods for a minute.

And came back with the marks of a warrior.

She picked up her trophy and her hatchet and we headed home.

You are so fukin strong baby girl. You can do anything

I can do anything mommy

Thank you, all you Fierce Warrior Women, who share your strength and shine your light.

The Universe is Abundant

If I didn't laugh I'd cry. OK maybe I cried anyway

2011-02-08T19:45:00.014-05:00

So today started as a perfectly lovely day.

There was no 2 hour delay despite the goddam fuckin forecast

uh oh michelle's cursing...

kids go to school=mommy goes to yoga

Yogini Shannon focused on the 3rd chakra and the core

i hate core work

She kept saying hold your space hold your place the strength comes from down deep let the extra energy out

After yoga I was off to therapy mostly so when people say oooh that must be so hard are you talking to anyone about it?

I can say yes instead of punching them in the head.

lalalalalalala everything's good everything's fine i feel so free lalalalalalala

then Lunch With The Ladies

lalalalala

and

BANG

The Unbloggable rears its Ugly Head

and I get so. fucking. pissed. off.

you know how they say you see red?

I saw red

When Michelle sees red Michelle does not play

Michelle holds her space holds her place digs way down deep

and then

when Michelle gets done not playing

she sobs

and sweeps

and sobs

and sweeps

and sobs

and dust busts

and sobs

and the sweeping and dust busting is a lot like shoveling snow

illumination

Michelle only gets angry when Michelle feels afraid

fear morphs into anger and anger helps Michelle take care of business

in an oh she is not playing kind of way

hold your space hold your place the strength comes from down deep

this 3rd person thing is a little psychotic, no?

Well. It takes a lot to dispel all that extra energy masquerading as anger

So.

What else am I angry about?

Snow

Ice

The snow and ice on the porch roof that is now caving in and leaking.

The possibility that the porch roof will come crashing down on one of the kids.

Or the babysitter.

Or the babysitter's kid.

goddam fukin snow on goddam fukin porch roof

For 2 days I've looked at the snow and ice piled up on the porch roof up to the dormers.

I've thought about who I could call to get the fucking snow off the fucking roof before the fucking thing falls down and squashes someone like a fucking bug

those cracks were not there a week ago

and you can't even see how

the fukin thing is bowing and rippling

FUCK IT

Last time I was really angry Mia and I chopped down a tree

mommy i feel so strong that was so awesome i feel like i can do anything

you can baby girl you can do anything

Jordana moves big rocks around when she's pissed

She's also been known to weed wack my entire backyard

I've heard that knocking down walls with a sledge hammer works too

I have no rocks, no sledge hammers, no walls to come down

at least not the plaster and sheetrock kind

So god fukin dammit I'm gonna get that fuckin frozen snow off the roof

goddammit

And I get even more pissed because today started off a balmy 34 degrees

but while I was not playing with The Unbloggable

a fuckin artic wind came in and fuckin froze everything that was maybe a little bit melted and a little bit shovel-able

we have no tools

we have one shovel

we have one tiny dormer window in the bathroom that looks out at the snow n ice covered porch roof

I tried poking the snow with a broom handle but that shit would just did not budge

what do we have?

I was gonna use the butt of Jack's old Red Rider rifle but thought the neighbors might misinterpret things and call the police

I trekked across the fucking ice n snow covered backyard to get to the garage to search for tools

There was too much ice n snow to open the garage door but not enough ice to keep my ever expanding ass from breaking through and ending up fat ass knee deep in snow.

Despite my favorite Sorel Joan of Arc boots.

fuck me

what do we have?

fuckin A the only thing we have are kitchen utensils

CHEF TOOLS

big pizza spatula thingy

chicken breast or veal fillet pounder thingy

something else sharp

diamond dust covered knife sharpener thingy

goddam if that fillet pounder thingy didn't smash up that icy snow

it's a bit like a sledge hammer

And the pizza spatula thingy? a bit like an ax

Perfect for slicing and dicing right through the ice and it worked great as a shovel

Cleared that fuckin ice n snow right off that fukin roof

I'm sure I looked like a lunatic

I stood on the toilet and hung out that damn bathroom window by my hips

My big fat ass held me tight and steady

I tucked my damn core up and in and held on

And I chopped and fillet-d that fuckin snow right the fuck away

The whole thing left me sweating and beggin for more

Just like when Mia and I chopped down the tree

mommy what else can we chop down?

I feel better now.

I let the extra energy out and I am holding my place.

And now I can have a reasonable conversation.

So.

Now I'm gonna go drink some wine and make some banana bread.

And have a conversation.

Amen

Another snow day shoveling shit

2011-02-01T13:21:00.008-05:00

is it me or does blogger look different?

it's feb.1.

i do not like this

Yet another Snow Day here in the Hudson Valley.

Looks like tomorrow we're having an ice storm.

I'm sure it will be real pretty but at this point fuck pretty this shit needs to melt.

We started out with 4 shovels. We're down to 1.

They break.

They get stolen off the porch.

They get divided up like furniture and photographs.

And like new snow boots and cat food I wait till the very last minute meaning in the midst of a snow and ice storm to say

hmmm... maybe I should go buy another shovel and some ice melter?

So I said it. But didn't do it.

We still only have one shovel.

So I'm the ONE shoveling.

Which isn't so bad since yoga keeps getting cancelled due to the damn snow and I have to get some kind of exercise.

Right?

Shoveling snow is extraordinarily meditative.

Alone. Quiet.

Shove. Lift. Toss.

Mindless repetitive cold hot heavy hard sweaty on and on

and suddenly BANG!

illumination

clarity

the unbloggable becomes more clear in a

what the fuck? holy fucking shit!

kind of way

turns out all this snow and the subsequent shoveling of said snow has its upside.

Anyway, that's all I have to say about that.

I've had enough clarity and illumination and snow for one day week month year.

I'm goin back to Mexico.

our view from the hammocks

yum... flan

tie dye mama

sun n sand boy in a hammock

the handsome one taking a siesta

trading the pink and purple house in the snow

for the pink and purple house in the sun

my south of the border yellow brick road

Casa Nah Alux

Riviera Maya

our fairy tale houses

the view in Tulum

...sigh...

happy snow days

Confessions from the Beacon Satellite Chapel of the Church of the Batshit Crazy

2011-01-30T19:36:00.011-05:00

Bless me Blogger for I have sinned.

I was weak.

I've spent the last two days in Hell. Weak in the face of Satan's Temptations.

Languishing in Dutchess County's version of Sodom and Gomorrah.

The Galleria Mall.

I almost turned into a fucking pillar of salt on my way out. Twice.

Saturday Jack was meeting up with his peeps. Posse. Friends. Whatever they're called these days.

Ty needed new clothes cause I make him wear Jack's hand me downs which is no fair and totally uncool.

he's got a point

Mia was coming down with something and didn't want to go. Which means she really wasn't feeling well.

Last time we were at the mall she was crawling out of her skin mommy i love it here so much i want to live here.

We found a space in Hell's parking lot, ventured forth into Target and our plans changed.

The Devil is sneaky and sly.

The boys met up with best friend Andrew and decided to go to Grandma's Cecile's house for nerf gun fights.

I guess Ty's new wardrobe could wait.

Mia and I were alone.

2 girls.

In the Mall.

With credit cards.

OK. Now you know I am so not girlie. And I hate shopping. I hate buying things. I hate spending money.

I would buy all my clothes at Goodwill if I could.

I try, but then the kids tell me I look like Nanny McPhee.

ah lah

So yesterday I let Mia go crazy. We gave in to all temptation and I allowed my baby to commit all manner of deadly sin.

Oh my god the squeals of delight that came out of that girl.

It was really fun. Probably the most fun I've had shopping ever.

She has Big Girl taste. Aeropostale. Wet Seal. Forever 21. Hot Topic.

Oh yeah. I am in big trouble.

She fits into a petite cause she's tall and has long monkey arms just like her mama.

We tried on clothes and I trusted her judgement of all my choices.

And she trusted my judgement of her choices.

The Universe is Abundant.

We went into The Store Filled With Insanely Insane Prom Dresses.

I was tempted to try some on and take pictures, but the owner was very nice and I thought it might insult her.

I searched Google Images for visual enhancements and nothing even came close to the shit in that store. Seriously.

Three hours later, we left with many bags full of pretty things and memories of a damn good time.

Mia was content. A miracle.

I promised the boys they could go back today. Another descent into Hell.

*****

The sneakers I bought them in September do not fit in January.

We hit Zumiez.

Wadaya mean I spent 75$ on your last pair of sneakers? No WAY I never woulda done that

You did mom I remember

I don't remember. I would remember doing that.

You were really stressed out. That's why we asked you to go to the mall that day. Cause when you're stressed out you'll say yes to anything

Stinkers

I guess today I was not stressed cause the thought of spending 74 bucks on a pair of sneakers that'll be too small in 6 months

made my head wanna explode.

Oh come on mom they're OD mega fleaaness live
Whatever the fuck that means. I think it's something good.
Alright. Fine. Amy's making you spaghetti for the rest of the month. Say it!
in unison Amy's making spaghetti for the rest of the month
Fine
And the rest of the month starts Tuesday. Not today.
2 happy boys with new OD mega fleaa sneakers men's sizes 9 and 10 1/2.

And neither kid is anywhere near 90 lbs.

Jack says mom, you know what they say about guys with big feet?...they need big socks!

Jesus, Jack. I'm you're MOTHER. aye aye aye

*****

There's a lot of stuff in malls.

Who makes all this stuff? The Chinese?

And who buys all this stuff? Dumb Americans?

Am I a dumb American?

Were these stupid-expensive sneakers manufactured in some factory where the women are working 80 hours a week for 2 dollars and don't get bathroom breaks but DO get depo provera shots so they never get pregnant and don't get their periods either?

To minimize their need for the bathroom?

i think i heard that or read it maybe i made it up i dont know.

So. Eve's choice. Knowledge of Good and Evil

or Ignorance?

I choose knowledge.

And my knowledge causes me to atone for my sneaker sin by making my kids eat spaghetti for a month.

And who makes spaghetti anyway? Is spaghetti manufactured ha manufactured food here or in China?

Is the wheat grown here then shipped to China and made into spaghetti then shipped back to Target?

See? This is my Hell. It is of my own making.

Bless me Blogger for I have sinned.

Amen

State of the Union

2011-01-25T23:25:00.003-05:00

So. I got myself all worked up thinking about the State of the Union address.

I'm completely unplugged and have no clue what's going on by choice but decided I would pay attention

and have something intelligent and insightful to say.

Cause I like to make a good impression.

OK. So no cable. No television. Cause I'm that kind of mom. No ads. No crap.

yeah sure

Earlier I checked CNN and it looked like they would be streaming the address.

Available on iPad.

Right.

No to ads. No to crap. Yes to iPad.

hypocrite

8:58. live stream of state of the union is so NOT available on iPad.

9:00. kicked Mia off facebook to stream the address on the computer

9:01. fuck you CNN why can't I find the stream?

9:02. google and follow link to hulu. I can do hulu. I used to watch LOST on hulu.

9:04. finally. hulu streaming Fox coverage of the address

Somewhere along the line I saw that Fox would cover the address and the Republican response.

AND the Tea Party response.

????

Tea Party response????

Since when does the Tea Party get to respond?

What about the Green Party response?

oh. right. fox

following are the texts to Sister Halona as I'm watching the LIVE STREAM of the State of the Union Address

me: watching address on hulu=fox. asshole announcer just called attny gen 'Eric Canter' WTF?

it's eric holder dumbass

halona: LOL

m: fox reporter shephard smith. asshole

h: idiot

m: ITS NOT FUNNY

h: no-its not funny

h: on 13 the announcer said congrsswmn sheila jackson lee (d-tx) is not there b/c shes seriously ill. then the camera went to pres hugging sheila jackson lee

Obama hands Joe Biden and Nancy Pelosi copies of the address

m: just read caption Majority Floor Services Chief as Majority Food Services Chef and was like who cares abt the caterer?

h: I CARE about the food!

m: hmmm dont know whether to laugh or cry

h: 3 sup ct justices arent there

Nancy Pelosi announces the President of the United States

????

Michelle Obama is wearing a plum colored dress

???? a little festive for these times, no?

I'm looking at Obama and Biden and Pelosi and thinking I know I have my head up my ass but I thought Pelosi had vamoosed

Obama is saying it's his first state of the union address

????

Ty and Mia are watching with me cause, you know, it's important and I'm that kind of mom

Ty says ummm... mom...??

Mia points to the date above the big fox live banner

January 26, 2010

I almost fell off my chair I was laughing so hard.

The kids are looking at me like I have 2 heads

9:23 back to texting

m: ok so ummm i just realized im watching the state of the union address 2010. aack

h: LMAO

m: im such an idiot

Ty found the REAL live stream for me on ABC

That's all I have to say about the State of the Union address

From now on I'll just keep my head up my ass thankyouverymuch

wednesday addendum: my most significant observation was the dead look in the eyes of the vets from Iraq. It hurt my heart.