As the sun sets on Christmas Eve of 2009, you can probably tell from the picture above that it’s windy and kinda cloudy.  It’s also getting cool as night falls, though if you can tell –that- from the picture, you’re really impressive.  But even so, ask me if I care.  Nope.  Not even one iota.

I don’t care that it’s supposed to rain tomorrow.  I don’t care that the wind is blustery.  I don’t care that there are no lights, decorations, stocking, or a tree in this hotel room.  I don’t care that Santa came several days ago, and that tomorrow, there are just a few little tidbits that I bought this afternoon on a solo excursion to surprise the kids.  I don’t care that there is still residual guilt slipping into some conversations with my mom.  I don’t care what Golden Boy thinks of me not showing up on Saturday.  I don’t care that I will not be in my own bed or house on Christmas morning.  I don’t care that I’m sharing less than 750sq feet with four other people.  I don’t care about any of it.

What then, you may ask, do I care about?  Well, I’ll be happy to tell you.

On this Christmas Eve, I care that the Scientist and I seem to have at least settled into some semblance of our old friendship.  We’ve still got a lot of work to do, but the commitment to at least stay together to finish raising the kids was a good starting point.  It gives a base to at least find some stability.

I care that the Professor is more at peace with her choices and decision regarding her future.  She is starting to learn that her way of seeing the world, and her way of addressing that world is valid and good.  She doesn’t need to be what everyone else thinks is best in order for it to be best for her.

I care the Artist is gaining some confidence in her own self, and finding peace in being that person she’s found inside.  Her personality is dynamic and creative, and she is finally seeing those as positives.  When she takes over the world, the world will be ecstatic to have it happen.

I care that the Ambassador is finding his way and gaining insight into what it is that he wants to do.  The discovery process can be a source of joy or a source of stress, and I’m thrilled that it’s a joy for him.  He will be really happy walking the path he’s chosen, and I love that.

I care that I’m starting to figure out some of the stress-point origins of my illness this fall, and what to do to fix it.  It will not be easy, but it’ll be necessary, and it’ll be a good thing later.

I care that I have been so, so blessed with some new people in my life this year.  My life is enriched by their presence, and having their friendship makes me wonder how I ever got by without them.

I care that the people I’ve trusted in the past, the people I love with all my heart, are still here with me.  Knowing that there are those who truly have my back, even when it’s not easy to do so, makes all the difference.

I care that there are some traditions that we’ve created as a family for Christmas that are still being followed, despite our decision to head to the beach.  We will still watch A Christmas Story tonight, we had cinnamon rolls when Santa came (and orange rolls tomorrow morning), we had white chili for dinner the day Santa came, we opened gifts one by one so that everyone could see what emerged from the wrapping.

I care that above all, I am spending this day with people who truly love me, and whom I truly love.  Even if they are far away, the wonders of technology allows me to still be close, and for that, I am grateful.

Merry Christmas.

…and all through the house…who knows?

‘Cause I’m not there!

After an absolutely hellacious week at work (related video below), I am now in Myrtle Beach.  We drove down this evening and will be here until Sunday.  I am exhausted, stressed to my limit, and have absolutely had it with life in general.

But as soon as I got here?  Bliss.  I smelled the salt air, watched the waves in the dark for a bit, and generally felt the tension melt from my body a little.

For your viewing pleasure, I offer up the following video.  The stupid bitch in question is someone who used to work on my team, and is now working for our “client” and has the power to fuck with my stuff.  And because she can, she does.  She has tried to ruin my career three times, and I can see it happening again.  I will be seeking employment elsewhere very fast, even if I have to take a cut in pay or leave education for a while.  But this will make you laugh, I promise.  =)

‘Twas the week before Christmas and all through the place

A look of incredulity is plastered on my face.

The flu that has settled in the Ambassador’s system

And the Artist’s laryngitis make me regret that I kissed them.

The Professor is tweaking over a calculus final

And at work, the Scientist is spending time on the vinyl

Running cable for clients too dumb to be breathing

Making him waste his days cussing and seething.

My own ear infection is now perpetuating

Into week four, as I’m impatiently waiting

For the second round of antibiotics to hit

And hopefully finally get rid of this shit.

Work is insane with the deadlines approaching

My coworkers’ laziness in encroaching

On my usual ability to get my stuff done on time

When I have to listen to them constantly whine.

I’m exhausted and bitchy and whiny as well,

Overwhelmed, busy, and forgetful as hell.

I have to admit that I’m almost at the point,

Of having a shot, or maybe smoking joint.

OK, not really, but I’m at my wits’ end

With all of the shit that has forced me to spend

Valuable time trying to scramble and scrape

To repair my sanity with glue and duct tape.

What the hell’s wrong with me, where is my joy?

Where is the spirit I normally would employ

To get me through the hustle and bustle of the days

When stress comes at me in so many ways?

I think if I’m honest with myself deep inside,

I’ll find that I’ve been busy trying to hide

The deeper resentments that seem to have grown

To epic proportions and then set into stone.

So I’m letting go of other people’s crap;

Instead wearing a grin and my fuzzy Santa hat.

I have lights on my van, and a freshly dressed tree

Good friends in my life and my own family.

If I need a reminder of the joys of this season,

I just have to look around me and I’ll find the reason.

When the rest my world isn’t worth all the stress

I’m grateful for the people with whom I’ve been blessed.

So know that I love you, and hope you can see

Just how much you will always mean to me.

Merry Christmas.

Romance is everybody’s best chance
Of finding out the kind of things you’re really made of
And though it may end
Water flows and trees still bend

You cast a spell I couldn’t protest
But there’s something that I found out
That’s not what love is all about
And though we found bliss
It came tumbling into this

And if we follow rules
For how we’re supposed to be
Why do the same mistakes eventually
Haunt the ground we’re walking ’round on
yeah

Breathe now, we’re gonna do it somehow
Maybe the worst is put behind us
And we can look for stars to guide us
And though it may end
Water flows and trees still bend
Water flows and trees still bend

(by Doris Muramatsu)

Wise words, I think.  People put so much stock in things like “soul mates” or “true love” and then wind up devastated when their unrealistic expectations are dashed by the perils of reality.  It’s sad, but it’s also such a pervasive concept that’s perpetuated by the media, and really, by our own selves as well.  We teach our kids to aim for that elusive “One” and they wind up feeling like failures when any other relationship doesn’t turn out to fit the bill.  Even as teenagers, when their emotions and goals change like the weather, they are just wrecked when a relationship ends, feeling worthless or stupid, instead of taking valuable lessons from it, cherishing the good parts, and letting the rest go.  There’s so much to be learned at that age, and “I suck” really isn’t one of the lessons I’d want them to take with them.

I think this myth is what causes a lot of marriages to crumble.  The initial chemical overload of a new relationship fades over time, problem evolve, people change, and you wake up twenty years later married to someone you don’t recognize.  (And this time it wasn’t because of a bender the night before, like in college!)  For some people, the answer is to just shrug, and deal with it, finding an acceptable middle ground between miserable and blissful.  Complacency doesn’t always have to be a bad thing if the person is truly at peace with it as a way of life.  It’s not for me, but who the hell am I to judge?  For others, the answer is to split up.  People start over at age 40 or 50, discovering finally who they are and what they want.  This can be misconstrued as a foolish “mid-life crisis” (holy hell, do I despise that phrase!), and I’ll admit that there may well be occasions in which it fits.  But to just write off a new level of self-awareness as an inconsequential glitch in that complacency, something not worth pursuing or even exploring, is reprehensible in my not-at-all humble opinion.  How demeaning and condescending to categorize someone’s feelings like that!

Of course, as with most things, it’s rarely a black and white situation.  There are many shades of grey here, with things being complicated by tangible aspects such children, shared property, and finances, along with emotional ones which are much harder to define.  Fluctuations or outright changes in sexual orientation, fundamental distance in perspectives and opinions, fading physical desire for any of a myriad of reasons, even religious or political variance, can all affect a relationship, making it a stagnant entity that sucks the life from its partners instead of nourishing them.

Obviously, this train of thought originated with the Scientist and me; I honestly cannot say how things with us will wind up.  I don’t know if the factors that have changed in our lives are insurmountable, or if we’ll find that middle ground.  I don’t want him to be unhappy, and he doesn’t want me to be unhappy, but what if the requirements for each of us can’t mesh?  The simple answer to that can be found in the lyrics at the top: water flows, and trees still bend.  For now, we’ve committed to two things: learning through counseling how to reclaim our friendship, and to finish raising our amazing kids.  What happens after that, when I leave for the islands, well, I guess only time will tell.  Just wish I had a crystal ball; it was be so much easier!

[P.S.  The photo I included up there?  Since this post is about wind and water, I went for one with waves, since they go together.  However, then I decided to take it one step further by showing someone who took the water flowing and the wind blowing (dangerously as it turned out that day) and made the best of it by surfing.  I got some great shots of him!]

…no, we aren’t hunting Wabbits.  (Or Whabbits!)  But I have had a blinding headache for going on three days now, and I am really worn out by it.  It didn’t feel like a migraine at first, but now I’m starting to wonder.  I’m starting to get light senstivie, and the nausea is setting in pretty tight.  Lack of sleep and serious stress is really not helping the situation, either.

But my head feels like this watermelon.

I am so incredibly excited to go see Girlyman tonight in Carrboro, especially since Nate (from the band) and the venue representative both granted permission for Alejandro to join me for the show.  And since it is National Cookie Day, I made a batch of Elvis cookies and brought some as a gift for the band.  However, I feel like my bliss will be tainted by the goddamn headache.

I’ve tried everything I can think of to try:

• Heart medication?  Check
• Enough water?  Check
• Enough food?  Check
• Ibuprofen?  Check
• Caffeine?  Check
• Tramadol?  Check
• Accupressure?  Check

Tonight when we get home, I will take meds and will sleep as long as my body needs to.  I can’t erase the stress right now, but I can get rest.

But for now, I am in so much pain.  I am really, truly miserable and I hate it.

Before I start this post, I just want everyone to know that while the idea kind of started after conversations with Minna and the Artist, this is honestly not direct at anyone in particular.  It’s just my own mental meanderings, as usual.

I am one of those people who needs to do my holidays in order.  I like them all, and want to fully enjoy each one.  So I eschew even contemplating the Thanksgiving menu before the Halloween pumpkins are carved, and there is never a single Christmas song played on my stereo prior to clearing away the last of the cranberry sauce and pie.  Ghosts and goblins have no business dancing in the yards with snowmen and toy soldiers.  Candy canes should not be licked right after the candy apples and gummy worms.  It’s just One of Those Things.

However, it is now December 2^nd, and I have a leftover skeleton bone to pick.

I understand that the concept of “Christmas” has been bastardized into a gluttonous cacophony of commercialized excess.  (Yes, that sentence is weird.  I like it.)  I further understand that gifting and greed has gotten way out of hand.  Those stipulations aside, and I am so sick and fucking tired of people who get snotty and condescending to those of us who choose to find the fun, the joy, in this season.  It doesn’t make you “cool” or “above the masses” to be a Grinch, a Scrooge, or whatever other miserly, mean hero you worship.  It doesn’t make you superior to us, and it sure as hell doesn’t make you appealing in any way.

What it does make you is rude, pretentious, and completely obnoxious.  The fact that you’re too damn lazy to make the effort to sift through the plastic reindeer and inflatable snowmen to see the beauty of lights strung along a house or draped over a tree says so much more than your haughty derision.  Does it really make you feel that good about yourself to actively put down the people who at least attempt to have some fun, or reconnect with friends and family?  I am the first to admit that I’ve had a shitty year.  At this point, I am mentally and physically exhausted, and it would be easy to wallow in the self-pity, hiding from everything and everyone with a snarl and a surly, “This holiday crap is so juvenile.”

But really?

With all of the shit that goes on in our lives, and in society around us, this season, in whatever form it takes, gives us the impetus and maybe even the excuse, to try to take the time to find some joy, some peace, some beauty in the everyday things we see and hear.  Stopping in the mall for a mere two minutes to watch a little kid sit on Santa’s lap with eyes the size of saucers could actually make you smile if you allow it, but oh no, we couldn’t have that!  Driving through a neighborhood at night to see the lights and decorations, some beautiful, some bizarre, could even produce laughter!  The horror!  In the chaos of our schedules, we sometimes overlook the special people in our lives.  And yes, sometimes gift-giving can seem obligatory, but if it feels that way?  That’s your own fault.  A gift should be given from the heart, have meaning.  Personally, I love to give gifts.  They may not be expensive, but for me, it truly is that thought that counts.  A gift could cost whatever, but the reaction is what makes it for me.  I want my friends and family to smile at the fact that I knew them well, or laugh at the fact that I remembered a shared joke.

So as with most things in life, there’s a choice to be made.  You can get off your ass, quit whining, and find joy in the myriad of options that float through your space every day.  You can relax, let the sensory delights around you seep in.  You can snicker at Grandma getting run over by a reindeer, or steal a smooch under some mistletoe.  Or, on the flip side, you can pretend that you’re so much better than the rest of us, sit up on your high horse looking down.

But while we drool at the scent of freshly baked cookies, roll our eyes and giggle at the dogs barking Jingle Bells, or sit quietly to ruminate in a room lit only by the lights on a tree, you can take your attitude and shove it up your chimneys.

Yes, I realize that this is completely stupid and pointless.

But hey, guess what!  This is my space!  So that means I can whine if I want to.

Most people who know me are well aware that I am a flip-flop whore.  I care nothing for expensive shoes, name brand clothing, I don’t carry a purse at all, and jewelry means almost nothing to me.  But I love flip-flops.  I wear them until I truly cannot handle the cold anymore.  I have nearly-permanent tan lines on my feet now, and I love them.

However, because of my inability to walk like a human being, my physical therapist and I used to get in knock down, drag out arguments about my footwear.  He didn’t want me to wear them at all, and I refuse to give them up.  We finally hammered out a compromise: I would only wear the “good” ones, well constructed, with actual defined arch support, well padded, etc.  No cheapies, no flat ones, nothing that doesn’t actually support the foot.  so I pay quite a bit more for them, but they also last, as well.  So I have Tevas, Rocket Dogs, Reefs, Rainbows, Ocean Minded…this is the one place where “brand names” do have a place in my life.

So why am I whining, you ask, when the compromise was acceptable?

Because I stumbled on, and fell in love with these:

There are dozens of different designs and colors.  They’re drawn and colored like classic tattoos and they’re just so cool.  I just think they’re fun and I find myself coveting.

The problem?  They are flat and thin.  No arch support, not enough cushioning, and there is just no way I can do it.  I gave my word to Jeff, and I keep my word.  And really, I have enough trouble walking without falling.  Pushing it with something like this would be stupid, and I know it.

But goddammit, it sucks.

 

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Oof.  Been too long since I posted, but I’ve been busier than hell.  Had meetings all day on Thursday, then therapy that evening, worked Friday and immediately after dinner, drove out to Statesville for the Ambassador’s soccer tournament.

Therapy was pretty good, for being therapy.  We talked about mostly mellow stuff, which was kind of a nice break from the gut wrenching stressful sessions we’d been having.  We did discuss our reading homework; mine had been the first chapter from the Courage to Heal, a book about women recovering from childhood sexual abuse, and The Scientist’s was from the Mayo clinic on depression.

I liked what I’d read, and had a discussion with Minna about it, mentioning that I planned to get a copy of the book for myself off of half.com.  Minna warned me that the book is very triggering, which I figured would be the case.  When I said as much to V, she said she didn’t think it was a good idea to purchase the book until after the Christmas Extravaganza.  She has a really good point, so I am taking her advice and will wait.

The Scientist told us that he definitely saw himself 4yrs ago was when he was laid off, in the reading, which was expected.  He also said that he sees a bit of me in a few things as well since my knee was ruined.  I can understand that, but I also think I’ve come a long way since it first happened, and have adapted pretty well.  V said that with the way this year has been, she would be shocked and worried if I didn’t show some depressive symptoms.  She doesn’t think I’m in any sort of crisis, or that I’m clinically depressed or anything, just that this year has sucked, and I’m working my way back out of it.  That pretty much sums it up, yeah.

One of his main bullet points was my occasionally being “short tempered.”  I kinda had to laugh at that a little, and I pointed out that in his own words, I’m the one with the easy, solid relationship with the kids.  Which left the fact that if I’m short tempered, it’s only with him!  But wouldn’t that stand to reason, after telling him last August that I wanted a divorce, doing the legal separation thing for 6 months, trying again, having it crash again this August, and now being in counseling?  It just seems like a “duh” that if I’m going to be bitchy, it’d be with the one person in the family that I don’t get along with, ya know?  But again, it’s nothing insurmountable, and if we’re going to rebuild this friendship, it’s going to have rough patches.

The trek to Statesville was easy.  We listened to music and the Ambassador worked on his project that was due on Monday (grrrr).  The Ambassador needed to be on the pitch by 7am for warm-ups, in the balmy 36 degree weather, but this is nothing new to us.  A few minutes into the second half, there was a colossal collision and the goalie went down; another guy then nailed the Ambassador, who flipped over his goalie, and landed, rolling to wind up face down on the ground.

Now, when this happens, it takes the guys a few minutes to remember what day it is, what their names are, how they got on the ground, and so on.  So I wasn’t really concerned when the Ambassador didn’t move.  However, he kept not moving.  The kid who hit him had dropped to the ground and I learned later was apologizing.  (There was no foul; it was an accident, and we all knew it.)  The kid called to the ref and the coach, who both ran over.  Still nothing.  Hmm.  At this point, I was a bit concerned, but the Scientist moves faster than my gimpy-ass self, so he headed out onto the field too.  Still nothing.  OK, now I was a tad worried.  I set Alejandro back into his bag and went out myself.  I was half way across the field when they were able to get him up and took him to the bench, and had called the EMT who was there for the day.

Poor kid was dazed enough that he didn’t even notice me picking blades of grass out of the corners of his eyes, his ears, and his jersey.  The EMT checked him over and diagnosed an AC sprain in his right shoulder, which was the first thing to hit the ground.  Loooovely.  Once he got his bearings, he was dead set on playing the other two games of the tournament.  Typical stubborn boy, of course.  After much consultation with Nik, the Ambassador’s athletic trainer, Grant, the team’s athletic trainer, the EMT, and us together, we did allow him to make the decision.  I didn’t like it, and I didn’t agree with the decision, but I let it happen.  We iced it for over an hour, drugged him well with pain killers and anti-inflammatories, and immobilized the shoulder with Ace wraps.

He’s still in a world of hurt, but having an ortho consult at this point is worthless.  With the initial inflammation, any true eval couldn’t happen.  You just cannot assess a joint that’s still that painful.  So we’re giving it til Monday to settle and then make a decision to either rehab or take him into the doc.

Another post coming later or tomorrow, but before I go, I’ll leave my friends with a few of my better “lousy mom” moments of late:

[In a text message, to the Professor]

“No threesomes until you’re 21.”

[Said to the Ambassador, while wrapping his shoulder before school yesterday]

“If your stupid friends know about your injury and decide to be “funny” and hit your shoulder, please remember that you aren’t supposed to move the joint.  Hit them with your left hand.”

[Text exchange with the Artist in which she was rolling her eyes about the kindergarten level instruction she’s been receiving in college bio]

Her: “And today, we learned about om-nee-vores, and car-nee-vores, and herb-ee-vores!”

Me: “You can lead a horticulture, but you can’t make her think.”

[Text exchange with the Artist as she got out of class today]

Her: “Aaaah.  Early release.”

Me: “That’s what he said…and why she broke up with him!”

Happy Tuesday, all!

Duality isn’t an uncommon concept, but it’s one I’m struggling with today.  A certain smart dude with an apple advised that, “For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.”  And he’s right.  Laws of physics and all that.  But in the yin and the yang, the black and the white, the positive and the negative, there is so, so much grey.  I think I’m kind of mired in that grey right now, and not really seeing where I should be on things.

On a really personal level, the shit in my head that’s been dredged up from my past regarding Golden Boy has taken its toll.  I really have better things to do with my time than face those memories, the flashbacks, the nightmares that have all been dancing in the limelight as of late.  My shrink would say that it’s part of the process, and I would roll my eyes, knowing that she knows of what she speaks.  Doesn’t mean I have to like it.  However, Golden Boy’s karma appears to have started without me; his health isn’t great, and his marriage is in the tank.  I won’t risk my own karma by reveling in that fact, and honestly, I’m just not good at being mean or cruel.  It’s just not in me to find joy in someone else’s suffering, even someone who not only got away with molesting two young girls, but never took responsibility for it at all in his own life.  Even then, I can’t laugh at his misfortune.  I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

On the same basic line, although much more global and grisly, is the story of Shaniya Nicole Davis.  This absolutely gorgeous little 5 year old was sold into prostitution/sexual slavery by her own mother, who then reported her missing.  Her body was recovered the other day, but every day when I see her picture on WRAL when I read the news, it breaks my heart.  This kid was in kindergarten, had just learned to tie her shoes, was loved by everyone who knew her, had her life ended by the absolute scum of the earth.  Oh, did I mention that her mother is currently pregnant again?  Yeah.  This story just turns my stomach on so many levels.

But the positive to this vile negative is that people like Vienna Teng who work to end this abomination.  She works with a group called the Polaris Project. One of the songs that she performs at each concert was written for this cause; it’s called Harbor, and I’ve included it here.  It’s an amazing song by an amazing woman, who helps to raise awareness that human trafficking really is still alive and well, and it’s right here in our own back yards.

You may be wondering where exactly the “grey” area is for me on this one.  Let me clear: I abhor the idea of slavery in all forms, but most especially that of children.  The grey area for me comes in the form of stress and attachment.  I am one of those weirdos who cannot bear to watch the Humane Society commercials, especially those with Sarah McLachlan.  Someone who is suffering tears me up, and like I said, kids and animals are worse.  I just cannot let myself get sad and upset at every single facet of negativity that hits my radar; I would spend my entire life in despair.  So I try to distance myself a little, and insulated my heart to the extremes.

I had such a great time with Alejandro this weekend.  We went waterfall hunting with my sister, the Scientist, the Professor, and the Artist.  (The Ambassador was blissfully alone for the first time over night, and loved it!)  We got a ton of great pics, and really just had a blast.  We didn’t think about work, family crap, or anything else.  The unseasonably warm November weather, combined with the beautiful fall color that was still surrounding us, all combined to make for a perfect day.

However, I am now back at the office, dealing with deadlines, I have an ear infection brewing, my knee is scolding me for the exertion of that day along with a photo shoot the following day, and Christmas is looming in the distance.  It’s at times like these when slipping into the grey and hiding there for a while seems like a really, really good plan.