You know, I've never said anything, but as I sit here thinking tonight I realize I should make this clear. I never really acknowledge the comments I receive here on the blog, but I read all of them. Many of you have been unkind, unflattering, or even harsh toward The New Guy. Common sense might dictate you not say such things because he reads this and thus reads what you say about him. Reason may dictate that you not judge, because you don't know him or both sides of the story. Conscience might dictate "do unto others as you would have them do unto you", or otherwise urge you to fairness and kindness. However, lacking those, allow me to dictate by means of this reminder: The New Guy that you speak of is my boyfriend, and I love him very much. Lacking respect for him, the very least you can do is have respect for me and temper your comments regarding him, or, as they say, say nothing at all.
January 2004 Archives
Sometimes I really hate myself.
J. made a bed for us on the couch which he kept enticing me to. "Johnny Bravo is on tv. You like Johnny Bravo. Wanna watch with me?" "Mom, it's nice and warm here under the blanket..." and even more than one, "Mom, won't you snuggle with me? Don't you want to sit with me?" And I meant to, but I kept putting it off because I have my own personal little issues and I wanted to hash them out. I thought, "J., I sit with you all the time". I thought, I have to sleep with you tonight, I always have to sleep with you, how annoying, what an inconvenience, I have to be next to you soon enough, but I'll be there in a minute, I guess, just give me one more minute...
And the poor boy fell asleep alone, waiting for me, a mom who is so focused on herself that she can't appreciate the affection of her son.
My text message to him: ANOTHER winter storm is coming!!
His reply text: Me, you, two cups of cocoa, a warm blanket, in front of the sliding glass door watching snow fall. Is it a date?
TNG and the kids cooked me dinner last night.
He had asked what I wanted and I told him I didn't care. I wouldn't have been surprised by or disappointed in PB&J sandwiches, but I got way more than I expected. TNG ended up helping the girls cook dinner. Both girls wanted to make chicken fingers, but both wanted to use the recipe from their own cookbook. When I wandered in (took some cute pics, I did), he was helping them each to cook their own batch of chicken fingers! I ended up with a lovely dinner of two kinds of chicken nuggets, served with honey mustard dip, green beans, and baked potato. Lovely, delicious, satisfying... wow. And all I did was sit and study. Oh, the luxury! Oh, the happiness!
Also: Bri has been chosen to sing in the Honors Choir!
I thought you might be interested in an update on the boyfriend-cleaning house situation.
The past two days The New Guy has done the dishes-- not helped me with them, but did them himself! He also made significant progress in cleaning our bedroom, has helped with laundry, and has taken out the trash (twice). It's been a godsend.
If this continues, my quality of life and happiness level will go way up. It is an unspeakable relief.
I don't mean to be obsessive on the topic, but I thought those of you who have read about this might be interested in this development. Thanks to all of you!
P.S.--Tonight is the first night per newly formed family agreement that the kids and TNG are to cook dinner and do the dishes. I'm highly doubtful. While they'll be enthusiastic, I cannot fathom TNG wanting to do the dishes yet one more time. We'll see, eh?
This was found in my philosophy course packet as an example of an argument containing a fallacy. I laughed so hard when I read it! But then, I was in class, so I had to laugh silently... I must've looked like a nut. Anyway, here it is. I contend that there's nothing wrong with this argument at all. It's perfectly true!
"At first she will study in the evening, after cleaning the kitchen, when the children are sleeping. But as exams approach and papers are due, she will gradually neglect more and more of the housework: She will not cook, the shopping won't be done, and she will even forget to check her daughter's homework and take her son to his doctor's appointment. Eventually the whole family will be in immense chaos. Nobody should try to finish a degree and care for small children at the same time."
(Written in my margin: "Amen!")
We've just had our first ever real family meeting. Everyone brought their issues and concerns together and we discussed them, then voted. The following items were voted into practice by majority rule:
1. The New Guy is part of our family.
2. The 25th of every month is a holiday whereupon the kids will take care of themselves. This includes feeding themselves and cleaning up after themselves. Within reason, they get to do as they please and will not bother the grownups.
3. If the kids are asleep by 9pm every school night, they can stay up as late as they want, in their rooms, on Friday and Saturday nights. They won't be sent to their rooms on those nights until 9pm (school nights: 8pm).
4. No more screaming. No one screams at anyone! If you have to say something to someone in another room, go to where they are. If you scream, you get a one minute time out for your first offense, and one additional minute time out each incidence thereafter. (This goes for adults, too.)
5. If a door is shut, that person wants privacy. You are to knock on the door and ask nicely if you can come in. If you forget, you must apologize, shut the door, and then knock and ask nicely if you can come in.
6. On Saturdays, we will all work to clean one room together. (This was Bri's idea!)
7. We will do one family activity-- going to the movies, out to eat, bowling, etc.-- at the first of every month.
8. No pushing computer keys when someone's at their computer. The offender must leave the room.
9. Everyone agrees to try to take better care of their teeth. The New Guy (I still say he's insane) wants to pay 25¢ each time a kid brushes their teeth, up to twice a day.
10. Mom will provide more healthy snacks for the kids to help themselves to (in response to a request that "Mom feed us more often")
11. We will revert to our old practice of Bri/Shay/J. days. Each day is designated to a different child, who gets to ride in the front seat of the car on that day and gets the final decisions when one is needed.
12. Each child will spend 5 minutes a day picking up the house. Each adult will spend 15 minutes. No one gets to eat until they've done so.
13. As part of the family, The New Guy gets to tickle everyone once a day.
14. The first day of every week that the kids are here (this will be either Monday or Wednesday, each week) The New Guy and the kids will cook dinner and do the dishes, and I can be relieved of what The New Guy says is a non-existent mental obligation to take care of everyone. This is my guilt-free day.
I can't spend another minute in this filthy, chaotic, oppressive, burdensome house. I can't bear it, and can't bear the household on my shoulders. My surroundings have an immense impression on my mood--the constant reflection!-- and I just can't take this anymore. If I'm in a calm and peaceful location, I feel calm and peaceful. When I'm in a place like this, where everything is dirty and out of place and cluttered and wrong, topped with knowing *I* should right it all, I feel chaotic and out of control and like a failure and out of sorts. It's an ugly thing to look at all the time. I'm going to go somewhere and cry about this burden until I feel better, until I can convince myself to come back and struggle with it some more. I'm sorry I'm not of higher moral character to not have such moments of "I can't do this anymore". Nothing has even "set me off". I just can't begin to tell you how much I hate carrying the continual burden of cleaning this place, or how triply sick I am of it being this way. Maybe nobody else who lives here gives a darn about how nasty it is, but I do. Maybe it bothers no one to live in a place like this--unfathomable to me. But I flat out can't stand it, and no amount of my trying to be "happy" or "okay" with it is going to work. I hate it. Loathe it. Period. And apparently there's nothing I can do but spend days on end trying to clean it up, and hours a day cleaning up after everyone. It's massive, and it's solely on my shoulders. What else can I do? I clean it, or I don't, pretty simple, but no one's going to help me, and no one should. It's MY house, it's MY responsibility, it's MY happiness.
So off I go to pull myself together, to rally myself, to pep talk myself into believing that I can indeed tackle this and be happy, too.
It's 12:35pm on a Saturday. I've just sat down from cooking pancakes and french toast for everyone, and then, doing the dishes afterward. The tv's been left on, there are coats, shoes, dirty plates, food wrappers, and other such things scattered about the entire house by all members of the family, left for me to pick up. The house is darn near literally covered with it. Someone's book is left on the couch. A belt and toy are on the floor next to a dirty sock, an ice cream bar wrapper and stick, a playing card, sucker wrapper, and a paintbrush. And that's only a small part of it, and it's all for ME to pick up.
Although when I finally got done cooking I wanted to sit down, I couldn't, because if I didn't at least make a dent in the dishes (and it is going to take a full 'nother load to finish them) I wouldn't be able to cook dinner. I know I have another meal to prepare and clean up after coming up. I also know I seriously need to spend at least a few hours today studying. I am also responsible for taking care of these kids (day filling in and of itself). I have to do at least a load or two of laundry today. I would like to the pleasure of cleaning myself up, and I have to* set up our new aquarium today, so the kids and I will spend numerous hours in that process. The New Guy is upstairs on his computer, occupied with work.
(*I could put this task off, but it's not as if there's another day in the future that won't be just as loaded down as this one.)
Is this a lot, or is it just me? At some point will I not adjust to such loads? I guess I have, in part, because 'though it still overwhelms me, my "it's not fair" resistance is wearing off. It now just feels like the thing I do.
I can just throw my hands up and say, (pardon the language) "Screw it." I can't make anyone here want to do other than they do. I might as well live for myself today. It's my life, it's my day, and I'll do how I please in it. If I do laundry today, it's 'cause I want to. And if I want to cook dinner, I will, and if I don't, I won't. This is MY day, and I'm going to be happy in it.
Cut a long entry short: My university was hosting a blood drive today. Every time I've heard mention of a blood drive, since I-can't-remember-when, I've thought, "I should do that." There has always been one reason or another why I couldn't, but this time, I had no excuse and I was happy to be able to give blood. It's not only a "good thing to do", but having never done it before it falls under my new year's resolution of incorporating as many new experiences into my life as I can. However, it didn't work out and ended up being a big waste of my time, one that was upsetting as well. See if I do that again!
I don't know what is with my lull in writing. There's much to say.
I'll throw this up for now for the sake of "newness" and write more later today. Really.
A few quick words:
As for my (ex)FIL, he's doing so much better, it's unbelievable. He's considered cancer free at this point, and has only rehabilitation (from muscle wasting and the hip surgery) left before they release him from the hospital.
It's getting late, I'm tired, I need to shower and pack a lunch, the dishes and house are out of control again, I can still hear the girls upstairs even though I put them to bed an hour ago, and I have pages and pages to read and study before morn. Typical.
(I'm happy)
I should have been capturing this all along. To think that the exciting first days of discovery have been rather lost... but here's a bit of what my life is like at the moment with the New Guy.
If we have a day where we don't have to get up we tend to sleep late, wake, and then spend quite some time in bed talking and being close and enjoying one another, and wishing some coffee and pancakes would magically appear. We drink a lot of coffee together. If it's a work day for him but not for me we alternate hitting the snooze button until he gets up. After he gets ready for work he crawls back into bed with me, holding me in his arms, and we share a bit of conversation before he has to leave. This is some of my favorite stuff, as if he wants nothing more than to be with me. When one of us arrives home we're always greeted by smiles and a good hearty kisses-accentuated embrace from the other. As many busy days as we have-- running around with school, work, kids, and various obligations-- we have days like today where we laze about accomplishing little but that which leisurely pleases us, sharing random bits of crazy conversation, alternating silence with bursts of talk of anything, from the very serious, practical, or technical to outlandish, abstract, or silly, picking up conversation and letting it drift off with a natural ebb and flow. We're comfortable. We may take a walk, go out for coffee, go out for dinner, go out for drinks, or play a game of crazy 8s. Nights are spent taking care of our own things like my studying and his coding, and combined, fixing dinner and refereeing the kids, or squeezing into the chair together, blanketed warmly, with popcorn and something to drink. It's a good solid friendship, a lovely romance, and a fiery attraction. There is lots of zaniness, lots of sillness, games, and laughter, lots of admiring the rain, the warm weather, the stars, and good food, lots of coffee and movies and being in each others arms or staring into each others eyes (yeah, gagging, isn't it?), lots of talking, lots of thinking and pondering and opinions, lots of massages. It's everyday responsibilities (boring and chore-oriented) and it's newness (exciting and pleasurable). It's mostly good, but it's real. It's just life.
I've come across some very depressing info lately regarding my future. This is one of those things I'm trying hard to realize that just because it looks like a solid brick wall blocking my path, it might just be an illusion. Or maybe a ladder will come along, or another path... It's like when my car needed a new transmission, and they told me it would cost several thousand dollars, and I didn't have the money or any way of coming up with the money, and didn't even have a car to get me to work anyway. Basically, no matter how many times I turned the idea over in my head or how creative I got in my potential solutions, there was no solution. It was an utterly hopeless situation, and yet here I am today with a running car. The solution was completely unforeseeable, even unimaginable, but there was a solution.
All that said, I'm going to ramble some more now. I'm venting. I don't expect you to read this, or care, but if you do read this, do so with understanding.
He brought me flowers!
My house is messy. Dirty. Unclean at a level I find far from tolerable. I've been thinking that perhaps one of my new year's resolutions should be to grow up, because I cannot stop resenting having to go to school and/or work all day, AND have to do all the household shopping, bill paying, cooking, cleaning, laundry, and everything else that running a house entails. I'm doing a poor job, but dang it, at the end of a long day, I'm so tired. And the New Guy, he's worked all day. He wants to sit, use his computer, maybe work on some side projects. It is a most blessed thing that he never, and I mean never, complains or even seems to notice the horrid disarray of the house, but on the other hand his helping is, well, less than 50%. Maybe that's as it should be. I don't know. Maybe I'm a whiney brat who needs to grow up. I just haven't completely mastered the "This isn't fair" and "Help me" tapes that play through my mind. I find myself frequently longing for a solution, daydreaming of how great it would be to only have to do half the household tasks.
I need to grow up.
Whether or not the New Guy should help more is arguable, but it is fact that I need to grow up and shoulder this. Working and running households is what adults do.
School tasks that need to be completed tonight:
Read Food Sys. chapter 3
Read/Prepare Outline Food Sys. chapter 4
Come up with what I consider the 3 key points of space allocation
Read Philosophy p. 6-26
Read Philosophy syllabus
Read Microbiology ch. 1, 3, 4*, 9*
Read Community Nutrition Ch. 1
First day of school. Long day. I've sat here studying for an exam tomorrow for the past few hours. So many chapters of reading due in so many classes! It's almost as if I'm already behind, and yet today was the first day.
Tired.
Got my hair cut today, too, just a little shorter than I meant. Oops. Ditto for Bri's hair, 'though the New Guy's and Shay's are just right.
Tired. Bed.
Today is the first day of school, and I find myself strangely excited. "Strangely", in part, means I can't wait to go get my textbooks, a chore I usually put off until at least the end of the first week and often later. You know why I want to get my textbooks? I want to get a head start on reading them! I'm beginning to scare myself, and I hope this isn't somehow an ominous sign. (In like a lion, out like a lamb?)
It's made a world of difference to me that I can see the light at the end of the tunnel; that is, I can actually see graduation in the distance. Instead of a drudgingly neverending experience, the end is now in sight, and it's so encouraging! Although not all that soon, I should be graduating either at the end of this fall semester or spring, and I love to think of graduating "the semester after this one". Graduation by the end of the year! Imagine! Makes this entire semester seem totally manageable, just a step toward having my diploma. SURELY I can manage this. I've never taken 16 hours at a time before (always 12), and I've never had a schedule quite like this one (8:00am-3:15pm, with only a 40 minute break from 1:20-2:00pm, Tuesdays and Thursdays; a lab from 2:00-4:00pm on Mondays and Wednesdays). But SURELY I can do well, make school an utmost priority and not let the rest of my life interfere with taking another giant leap toward graduation.
Onward, to graduation!
(Pray my enthusiasm and determination lasts.)
This is representative of many of my days with the New Guy.
This morning when we awoke we spontaneously began this game:
"I dreamed I had three kids!" I exclaim. "Whoa, what a dream... hey, wait a minute! Who is this little kid next to me?" Further investigation turns up there are three such kids, none of whom have parents but all are looking for some. So we interview them, "Do you help around the house?" we'd ask. "Are you nice? Do you think you could get along with this little boy for a brother?" They assured us of their intent to help out and be kind and good. Then New Guy and I turn to one another in mock whispers, "Well, she sure is adorable, and she seems awfully sweet. Maybe we should keep her." The kids were delighted with this surprising silliness, and of course, they were all "adopted".
I'm not exactly sure how this transitioned, but next thing you know the kids have the cookbooks I bought them for Christmas and they're planning breakfast. "You get a break from cooking today, Mom!" exclaims one. And next thing you know, MB (who will henceforth be known as Bri, for easier discernment from her sister MS, now known as Shay), is in the kitchen with her "father" the New Guy making us all muffins from scratch. It was a first time experience for both of them.
When they were done, Shay and I made a recipe from her cookbook: scrambled eggs and heart-shaped, jelly-covered whole wheat toast. And yes, she made the eggs herself.
They set the table and we sat down and enjoyed a breakfast of muffins and coffee (for the grownups), scrambled eggs, and toast. We gobbled it all up, sharing food and laughs. As one of the grownups I can say it was time-consuming and messy, but really, truly, thoroughly pleasant.
- - -
It's a lovely 55†F day. We took the kids for a walk to the lake to see the ice-covered water and the geese. We walked in mud, played with sticks, and avoided puddles (good kids!). We held hands in a chain that the New Guy periodically changed the pace of, from regular walking to slow, fast, backwards, or even sideways-- anything to surprise us and pull us rapidly via our chained arms in a new direction.
The nurses have called him a cat, the man with nine lives. My (ex)FIL has amazingly pulled through the kidney failure/liver failure/pneumonia/septic shock. They've taken him off the ventilator, reduced his meds, and put him back on the cancer floor from ICU, where he was. He's awake, aware, and back to his old humorous, crotchety self. The family has all come back home. I wouldn't go so far as to say it's miraculous, but it is amazing.
Last night I took the kids to free pizza, balloons, moon walk, and swimming at the local community center. That was fun.
More soon.
(ex)FIL is doing better in some ways, worse in others. He's been somewhat conscious and responsive at times, but they now suspect he has internal bleeding.
I cooked this big elaborate dinner tonight (or maybe it wasn't quite so elaborate; maybe I'm just no good at this) and invited Mom over. I asked the New Guy for help and then got irritated when I didn't feel he helped enough, even though I told myself from the beginning of the self-created project that I could and would do it all myself. What really annoyed me was when, instead of pan frying the chicken as I asked, he sat and ate salad. Two bowls, in fact. While I was simultaneously stirring two pots of boiling sauces I was also attempting to flip the chicken before it burned, my accompanying music a chorus of five munching and saying how good the salad was. I never even got to taste it.
But you know, I think I had no right to be so irritated. And what if I had "right"? Do I want to spend my 2004 frequently irritated? The New Guy didn't ask for an elaborate dinner; he wasn't the one to take on all this work. He did help, and in addition to what I asked he was chatting with and entertaining my mom. But whether or not he "should" have helped more (I felt it was inconsiderate to eat salad while I worked, without offering me some or encouraging me to sit for a bit), I must remember that my life is my choice. I could've chosen NOT to take on so much work. I can choose to force the others in my life to help. I can choose to kick the New Guy out. I can choose to keep on doing most of the work, and I can do so cheerfully. Whatever I choose, it's my life, my choice, and I choose to be happy and in control.
My ex called, spacey and distant and not himself. Piecing together what he said, it seems my (ex)father-in-law's kidneys are failing. The doctor has called for the living will and for all family members to come right away.
As I've said before, I lived with my FIL for years. He and I were home alone together every day and thus became close. We've shared a lot of our lives together. He was indeed a dad to me, and I'm very fond of him.
Spring semester hasn't started yet, so I'm sleeping in every day. More precisely, I get up early, send the girls to school, and crawl back into bed. Today I am particularly blessed, and I almost missed it.
My son woke up before I did. He entered my room to announce, "Dora the Explorer is on!" Watching children's shows is something we've always done together and enjoyed, particularly during my years as a stay-at-home-parent with the girls and as often as possible with my son, on days when I didn't have morning classes. This lovely tradition slowly died away as the girls became "too old" and J. got hooked on video games and lost interest.
"I'm still tired, J." I said. "Maybe it'll come on again later," I thought. And I almost missed it.
Thank God, J. didn't give up. He crawled into bed beside me, got out books, and began to read me scary stories.
"Hey, J., I'm supposed to be sleeping here!" I responded, and I almost missed it.
He shook his head sadly. "I hope we don't miss the whole thing while we're spending all this time in here," he said. And I got it.
I had a job interview tonight for a bartender/waitress/hostess position at a place I'd been told for years I should apply, a restaurant/lounge called Players. Apparently they're very popular. She put me on the spot, asking me things such as what I'd do if someone asked for a Tom Collins and what I felt I brought to the place. Perhaps it was typical interview fare, perhaps it was her cool and professional demeanor or my being out of practice, but I'm not sure how well I pulled it all off. She'll call back, she says.
I was pleased I used up a bunch of leftovers today in my cooking. Peanut butter and an assortment of aging veggies made Peanut Butter Vegetable Chicken Soup, which numerous reviewers said was the best soup they'd ever tasted and was, indeed, much better than you'd think, and "hurry up and use me or else" fresh and canned fruit combined with remnant pecan pieces and partial tubs of whipped cream to make a family pleasing fruit salad for dessert. Quick, easy, healthy, tasty, and economical.
Tonight I went into my room and shut the door in order to change clothes. The New Guy was in there, too. Normally I don't do things that suggest such intimacy between the two of us, but I thought the girls were in bed. I'm in the midst of changing when MB (my 7 year old) yells through the door gleefully, "MS [her 6 year old sister] thinks you two are in there having sex!" WHOA. The New Guy and I couldn't help but laugh. I never thought I'd be talking about sex with my 6 and 7 year old girls(!), but I had to ask them where they heard that and what they thought sex was. (She heard it from her friend M. They informed me that it's when a man and woman sleep in a bed together naked, or, look at each other naked, and that the Bible says it's bad.) It was hilarious, really. We have calmly and openly discussed many difficult topics as they've come up. I don't believe any subject has to be completely taboo, particularly if the children come to me for answers, but I do firmly believe that they have to be discussed child appropriately.
Making up for lost time here on the blog. :-)
For those of you who might have interest, an update on my (ex)father-in-law, who's been in the hospital for months now following a bone marrow transplant, battling non-Hodgkin's lymphoma:
He fell and broke his pelvis a few weeks ago and has been laying immobile (developing a bed sore) ever since while awaiting surgery, for which he's been too sick to receive. They *finally* did the surgery yesterday, only for him to aspirate and develop pneumonia! The man I visited a couple of days ago who was doing fairly well is now in ICU on a ventilator. Luckily I'm told the doctors are hopeful this is "minor" and that he'll come out of it, but as always with my exFIL, his health seems to be one set of complications after another.
It's scary, and we all love him too much and are too attached to him to hear such news without emotion. And to think, he's only 56!
Looking at pictures of an online friend's wife, I was inspired. In her I see everything I hope to be. She's confident, healthy, fit, and happy. She pursues the things she's interested in. She's a good friend, wife, and mother. She looks full of strength, power, and grace.
I want to be all of these things. I want to have and project peace, happiness, love, and strength, and I want to create a home that reflects that as well, a place of comfort and refuge. I want to be full of life and love and optimism. I want to eat well and cleanly and be active in dance and movement. I want to be expressive, creative, understanding, supportive, loving, forgiving, encouraging, inspirational. I want to be ladylike in all its facets. I want to be graceful in action and spirit. I want to pursue my interests, live my dreams.
Can I make this happen? I'm striving toward it, but is it too lofty a goal? Is it something to be achieved over the course of a long lifetime? Will striving thus leave me ever feeling like a failure? Regardless, I must, and continually am, striving to be more the person I want to be and live the way I want my life to be lived.
If I can make better in some way, if even just with a smile given, the lives of all those who encounter mine... That's the sort of thing someone would say that I'd groan and roll my eyes at for its triteness and seeming insincerity, but I perceive and hope for no other meaning for my life--not wealth or fame or "success"--than to give something to the lives of others.
Sounds corny, I know.
It's more or less a holiday today for us Mac users. I just "watched" the 2004 MacWorld keynote. Very exciting stuff. Be sure to run to your nearest Apple store or purchase online, items such as the iPod mini-- only the size of a business card!-- or GarageBand, the new and very awesome software for creating your own music.
I'm sorry, I'm so in love with Apple, I couldn't help but mention it.
It appears to be working! All my "old" blog stuff is here and now I can finally go back to adding new. I hope to eventually be at http://www.simpol.us, as I said before, but for now I'm going to nestle down and get comfortable here. Thank you most sincerely for making the move with me.
