Friday, February 26, 2010

In which I admit to magical thinking, and being a total dork

When I was about 15 I went on a camp out with my explorer troop, and at some point got in an argument with a boy. I don't remember what it was about, but I do remember his name, and I'm not telling you.

Anyway, he took off into the woods next to the river, grumpy and dejected as only a teenage boy can be, and I stalked after, believing as only a teenage girl would, that he needed me to go after him and make him feel better.

It was the eighties, and I was following a boy through the woods, and naturally that Phil Collins (genesis? Follow You??) song was in my little teenage head, and I was singing it under my breath.

At the point where he finally stopped and sat on a fallen log, and I finally caught up to him, he told me quite bluntly that he heard me singing. Naturally, I was mortified and didn't admit it.

We didn't kiss and make up.

I hadn't thought about this incident in years, but I was listening to the radio and another song of that same era (These Dreams, Heart) was on, and why it made me think of that walk in the woods I can't say.

I can say the story was already playing in my head when the next song started. Naturally it was Genesis, but I hadn't heard the song in so long, it took a while for me to realize it was Follow You Follow Me.

A moment of nostalgia and a moment of surprise, and I wondered where he is now, and if the universe tries to tell us things sometimes, and if we ever interpret them right...

So yeah, there I was in control of the universe, or at least the radio waves, bending the frequencies to my own little life story. All I can say is at least at one point this week I felt in control of something, and that's all right, even if it was only in my head.

Thanks, Universe.

Saturday, February 20, 2010

Blogging 101

It's been a little crazy. I'm not sure why, and can't pin down anything particular that's been happening, but somehow I never feel like I have a moment to write. But here I am, now, brushing my teeth and trying to come up with a good story for post #101.

My in-laws are coming in next week. While I do love them, I tend to get a little stressed out around them. They are bible thumpers, and I'm not a gal who appreciates that rhythm. Kind of gives me a headache.

When my mother in law suggested that I get Elliot involved in sunday school so he could be in the Christmas play so all my other (heathen) relatives would come to church for Christmas instead of hanging out with Santa, well, I was a little offended. Please, if somebody comes to you looking for enlightenment, or on a spiritual quest of some kind or whatever, tell them about Jesus and convert away, but have a little respect for those who have other faiths, and let them be.

Oh, yeah. And don't you dare try to *use* my son for anything. Ever.

I didn't really want to talk to her for a bit after that, so when they called the other day, it took me a while to call back, and first thing she said wasn't "Hi Jes, how are you and Elliot?" but "Oh. It's been so long. I mean, really long - did you get our message?" What do you say to that?

Having in-laws who you don't entirely get along with is one thing when your spouse is there to serve as a buffer. Without Karl I'm struggling to maintain the relationship. They are generous and loving and kind, and I want to be close, but when I get preaching or guilt (or both) with every dose of kindness I don't respond well.

They'll be here next week, and we'll see how it goes.

In other news, I'm trying to girlify my wardrobe a bit for spring. I ended up on this website, and I'm very pleased with my the quality, color, and fit of first order. It's kind of fun - you enter your measurements (it guides you step by step) and it assigns you a body type. You answer a few questions about your preferences in style and fit, and then it suggests clothes that will flatter you based on your shape and measurements, not your "size," which in women's clothes can vary dramatically from one designer to the next. They have suggested medium to x large sizes, and 10 to 14 for me. For each item, it tells you what size will fit, but you can opt for a different one if you prefer.

It isn't cheap, as many of the clothes are designer labels. I paid more for what I got than I would have in a department store, but it may be worth it. I really did have fun putting together outfits (they have a neat little tool to assemble and accessorize a look) and browsing their wardrobe suggestions.

If, like me, you have no idea what to wear, and don't trust the retail clerks who tell you everything looks great on you (commission? what's that?) then I recommend checking it out.

Friday, February 12, 2010

Reality in the Imagination

Why is it so much easier for us to believe in what we fear than in what we hope? I wonder if it's because we fear so many more things - cancer, planes crashing, mean people, financial woes, fires, criminals... there's constantly something that could go wrong, and we're so busy trying to keep it all at bay, maybe we don't hope enough.

It just seems sad - is it really true that bad things are more likely to happen than good things, or are we just more aware of them? I wonder if we consciously attempted to put as much energy into small positives (finding a dollar?) as small annoyances (being cut off in traffic?) would we be better people - or at least happier?

For a while now I've focused on not letting myself drift off into waking nightmare thoughts, and instead only allowing happiness in my daydreaming. For instance, if I start to worry what would happen to Elliot if I died, I stop myself. I know he would be cared for, loved, and stable, and have done my best to make sure he has a good foundation. So instead, I force myself to think about where he'll want to go to college, and how much I'll annoy him by visiting every month and insisting that he introduce me to his friends.

Visualize Whirled Peas, and all that.

I guess I'm mostly hung up on it tonight because I was being positive, and decided to venture out in the world, and got all girled up, then realized that the event I planned to go to was actually tomorrow. Embarrassing, and a let down, and I couldn't get in touch with anybody to make last minute plans. So I stayed in and played on the computer, and felt a little lonely in my big house, well, alone.

And well, here I am, contemplating life. Yep. And trying to find Happy. And Hope.


Sweets for the Sweet...

Miss Cathy came by this morning with treats - she made cookies fo Valentines Day, and brought sprinkles so Elliot could help decorate them.

I think maybe he liked 'decorating' his tongue the best. We will be packing up half the cookies to take to Grandma - nothing says I Love You like too much sugar!

Before we put them away, Elliot insisted on a little quality control, and taste-tested the cookies just to make sure they were good enough for Grandma. They passed.

Why, M, C, A!?

When we took the music class a while back, Elliot loved it for a while, but sometime during the second session, he decided he didn't want to be there. We'd pull up to the building and he'd start shaking his head. As we went toward the room, he protested more violently, and eventually when we got to the room, he cried until I left with him. We missed the last 3 classes.

We're taking a class at the Y now, and the first few classes went well, but today he started the head shaking again. I insisted that we go in and play with the other kids, and he whined and buried his head in my shoulder. It took him about half the class to warm up, but by the end he was playing with the other kids, and clearly enjoying himself.

I went ahead and signed him up for the next session, but I'm worried about it. I don't want him to be anxious - this is supposed to be fun! I haven't seen him have any bad experiences, and I've been with him the whole time in class. I just don't understand the reaction, outside of looking at my own neuroses. I get anxious and jittery before I teach a class, but love the actual teaching, and I wonder if there's something genetic...

Inherited crazy, or environ-mental? Either way, I just want him happy, so we'll keep playing it by ear and see how it goes.

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Never say you're bored.

Since stating that I was perhaps a little ennuied by the current winter weather, life has been much more interesting. I've had a few social encounters with other adults, had many kind and humorous invitations and suggestions on what I might do with my time, and given my son an enema.

Perhaps I should wait till tomorrow to blog about it, because maybe by then I won't be quite so freaked out by it. Not that I am, really, but if not all the way out, I'm certainly near that line between freaked and out. It's not something I ever considered having to do.

It's not something I ever thought of as "over the counter."

It turns out, you open the box, and it's pretty much the same thing you use to dispense hair color, but with a lot of lube.

And when you're on the bathroom floor, holding a screaming toddler across your lap, it takes a lot of lube. It also stops the screaming... right before it makes it louder.

Poor little guy - he's been blocked up for 4 days, and nothing was getting him to unclench, so I really had few options left. So up it went, and I squeezed 2 tablespoons of mineral oil into his little butt to grease the track.

I expected it to be like a bottle of champagne, really. I'd pull out the stopper, and things would flow like crazy, but I underestimated Boo's will power - and musculature... He hopped from foot to foot (with eyes as big as saucers) for an agonizing 3 minutes before finally agreeing to sit on the potty and let it out.

There was a lot of poop in there, but not as much as I expected after 4 days and about 50 lbs of fiber. I made him a small bowl of ice cream and Grandma and I told him what a good job he did, till finally he admitted that he did well, and seemed proud of himself, or at least glad of the ice cream. Then, suddenly he was hopping again, and we rushed off for another go. Seems all the fiber we'd been pouring in had softened things up a little more than I meant, because round 2 was VERY soft, and extremely stinky.

Happily, after that he finally seems to be feeling better, and he left with Grandma for an overnight there.

My life is NOT boring. My life IS a little gross.

Saturday, February 6, 2010

Ah, new 'e'.

Say it five times fast.
Ah, new 'e'.
Ah new e.

uh oh.


Trying to get creative and kick my self pitying self in the butt with some fun work play, but it's not working. I blame the cold weather. And the senate.

And maybe the mailman, too.

Friday, February 5, 2010


He's finally talking a little, and I thought I should document where we are.

Words he uses often:

Baa Baa (bye bye)
Eeee (please)
Mo (more)
Juish (juice)
Iish (fish)

Words he has said, but not using often:

Key (kitty)

There are more, I'm sure, but right now he wants to cuddle, so I'm off.


Elliot doesn't want to play on his own much since we got back, and since yesterday, when I left him for 1/2 hour at the Y childcare, he's distraught when I leave the room. It's strange, because he did fine at the Y, no tantrum, no crying, but was very happy to see me come back. We'll see how the weekend goes - I hope he eases up a bit, because I already trip over the cat and dog too much. Closeness that is charming but oppressive. Yeah.

Wanting to Blog....

but nothing to say. So sad.

Thursday, February 4, 2010

Learning to be Argumentative

While those of you who know me may argue that I already am stubborn and perhaps hard headed at times, I think of myself in most situations as pretty meek. Particularly when confronted with strangers, including individuals employed to offer customer service. In the past, I've rarely pushed any issue in which I've had poor service, but slowly I'm learning it's worth it.

My roof wasn't right, and when they tried to fob off the problem with excuses, I didn't let it go. I argued. I won.

The purchase of my new table was far from smooth, and required me to seek the help of two managers. I fought. I cried. I won.

Tonight, I got an email from *%Bank, who had assessed a late fee to my account. I'd argued (via email) that it was unfair, and they had ignored me. I persisted. I won.

I don't know if I never argued because I thought I'd never win, or because I thought people would think less of me for arguing.

I'm finding I don't care what they think. I will no longer be a silently unsatisfied customer. If you want to rip me off, I'm just saying now, I'm practicing, I'm gaining confidence, and well, bring it. It's on.

Can't wait to meet with the roofers to do the final settle up next week.

Two Steps Back

I can see myself
from two steps back

from two days
or weeks

or heartbeats

I can see me moving

broken and strong
joyful tearful


I can see what will
from what was
and won’t be





wanting to fall
wanting to hope

I can see me here
at the intersection

millions of ifs
only one if that stuck

and two steps up

one step up

every step

I tell myself
I’ll not look back