I’m feeling a bit better now.  Thanks to those who have listened to my bellyaching lately. (Especially Ian!)

I ran at the gym yesterday: 28 minutes running on the treadmill, which is less than I had been used to doing, but then I had to take a 13 day break with the sick kids. By then end of it my knees hurt—the front, outer parts underneath my kneecaps. I figure I’ll have to work back up to the 45 minute runs again. I also have to forgive myself for taking the break from my exercising. (This is the part I’m not very good at.)

My boys are healthier. They still have lingering coughs, but they’re doing much better and acting more normal. I always feel so stressed out when they are sick; there is so little I can do to help them.

My parents have returned from their much-too-long-this-year trip. They were gone the same amount of time this summer as every summer, but somehow this vacation dragged on for me. I missed my mom a lot. I can tell her all my frustrations and rage and she loves me anyway. She’s been there. She’s not one to sugar-coat this whole Motherhood bag; it’s not easy and she knows it. There are very few June Cleaver moments. Talking to her helps a lot.

Yesterday we took Lucas to his play group date and stayed to swim in the pool for a couple of hours. It was nice being around the other mommies and kids. It was nice watching Lucas play and run and be crazy with some of his school chums. Two of the mommies said basically, “Oh, yeah. You’re in a really tough place right now. Eighteen months is hard, especially with the second child.” They’ve both been there and done it.

Two and a half weeks of Lucas’s summer vacation remain. I think things will feel a little better balanced when he goes back, even though there will be a big adjustment. (At least, I hope so.) Approximately half of the kids and parents in the class will be new to me. I’m looking forward to the social element there, making new friends and reconnecting with others. I’ve felt too isolated this summer. I’m glad I organized that play group and that Lucas participated in camps, or we might not have seen much of people.

Work has picked up a little and the juggling act has increased in difficulty. Worrying about when I’ll work is superior to worrying about whether I’ll get work.

Saw some friends last night. Their beautiful faces, warm hugs, and laughter were just what I needed. And that bit with Ian in the moonlight afterward? Aces.

(This post is so desperate and whiny I’m only allowing Lisa to read it. It is the bleak continuation of my phone call to her last Friday, when I completely lost my shit and cried her ear off.)

So, I’ve had a kind of lousy summer. Lots of emotional lows, rage, insecurity, crises of confidence, perhaps depression. I’m not sure. I do know that I’m frustrated and bored and lonely a lot of the time. I’m lonely, but I am almost never alone, which is a weird catch-22. I don’t get to sit on the john alone; I don’t get to shower alone. This list of things I can’t manage to do, or only barely manage to do (rarely) is as long as my arm: 

work
read a book
talk on the phone
use my computer
write
shop
visit people
get invited anywhere
work out
sleep
masturbate (never)
watch adult-oriented TV/movies
make love to my husband
clean my house
paint
reorganize my life, my surroundings
weave
cook
leave the house

Around here, it’s always damage control, reaction, crisis management. Never planning, thinking, dreaming, or doing what I want to do. Every single thing I put my hand to can be and will be interrupted at any moment. I start and stop things all day long. I can barely finish a sentence or a though before I’m pulled in a new direction. I never finish anything. I am surrounded by evidence of my failures.

Taking care of other people 24/7 is extremely draining. I feel worn out, bitchy, lost, hopeless, desperate, cravings, isolated, broke, starved for attention, and did I mention loneliness? I would like to recuperate. I would like to spend some time and energy on me and on my marriage. 

They say it takes a village to raise children. And I have one, sort of. I have friends who love me and my kids. I have family members who help us out once in a while. I pay friends to babysit so I can earn a meager living and so I don’t fucking LOSE IT and do something I’ll regret. When my kids get sick, my village shuts down for the duration, like a ski slope in August. Those who do come around are punished for their generosity: They get sick, too. “Thanks for comin’ by and keeping me from hanging myself. Right. Yeah. It’ll never happen again. Of course. Don’t mention it. We’re happy to share our germs. Enjoy them!” Ian keeps going to work, for which I am both eternally grateful and desperately resentful. And here I am, alone with two screaming, miserable, snotty, spoiled, hurting, bored, needy human beings. Makes me fucking crazy.

(Only right this second, I am actually alone. The kids are briefly out of the house. If they weren’t, I’d not be able to write this diatribe.)

This insanity is temporary. It will get better. I know that the summer is slowly winding down to a close and Lucas will go back to school. I know that Asher will only be 18 months old for a little while. I know he will grow and become more independent and less clingy. I know I won’t always be breastfeeding and using my body as his major source of comfort forever. But this is a slow process. There are 24 hours in every single day. I am on duty 24 hours every single day, but for an hour here or two hours there. In a good week, I might get 10 hours in which to work, when the children are both gone.

So my kids aren’t the only ones who are needy. I’m needy too. Trouble is, I need the opposite of what they need. I need to spend time with my friends, who are too afraid to come around when the kids are sick and the chips are spilled all over the floor. (And I UNDERSTAND why, but it still hurts.) I need my parents, but they are out of the country—returning today, thank God! I need my husband, who does everything he possibly can while he’s home, but sometimes it doesn’t feel like it’s enough. I need him alone. I need us to build up our marriage. I need solitude and sanctuary for me. I need a change of scenery. I need to exercise (yes, it’s been 12 days since I’ve been to the gym!). I need to go places and do things I’m interested in doing. I need to dance and breathe and LIVE.

I know what I need. But I don’t get it. There aren’t enough resources, helpers, volunteers. The village I need is scattered and empty most of every day. And I am angry. 

I don’t think this is what I signed up for.

Happy Humpaversary, my love, my stallion! 

18 years of You + Me (still)  = Sexy Hot Lovin X Bazilliomilliotrillion

I love you.

Lucas woke me up this morning with an odd question: “Mom! Can I take a shower?”
“A shower? Why do you want to take a shower?” (He typically showers in the evening, before bedtime.)
“For fun. Just in private.”
“Oh. Um…” 
“I won’t do anything dangerous, like play with a razor … or eat the soap … or lick some chemicals … or something like that.”
“Um … OK.” I respect my kids’ need to explore their bodies.

45 minutes later…

“Mom! Feel my legs! Aren’t they smooth?”
“They are smooth. Lucas, did you use a razor to shave your legs?”
Beaming, he says, “Yeah! Aren’t they nice?”

Funny thing is, I can remember having the EXACT SAME conversation with my mother when I was a girl. I don’t remember how old I was, though. “Mom, feel my legs! Aren’t they smooth?”

Today is my parents’ 40th wedding anniversary—except that because they are in Australia, I guess they were celebrating yesterday. They called us last night to say hello and find out how everyone was doing and I was glad to talk to them. It sounds like they are having a marvelous time, but they’ve been on the road for nearly three weeks and mom sounds ready to come home. She doesn’t like to be far away from her washer/dryer and sewing machine for very long. I’m sure that her new Amazon Kindle has consoled her in times of travel stress.

Right now they are staying at the Voyages Silky Oaks Lodge and Healing Waters Spa near Cairns. Out of curiosity, I just found it online here. Dad booked the Treehouse to celebrate their anniversary. At heart, he’s a romantic. It looks gorgeous. It’s in the middle of the Daintree rainforest—lush and tropical. They went on a hike!

I guess I just want to say that I’m thinking of them and wishing them the best. Their marriage has been a foundation of security and safety in my life and an inspiration to me in my own marriage. They are not perfect. They bicker and take each other for granted. Life is not always pretty for them. It’s about hard work and diligence. About doing the right thing and sometimes getting screwed anyway. But they live with passion and gusto and their own quirky coping mechanisms. After 40 years, they still love each other. Really, what more can anyone hope for? We all should be so lucky.

These first three photos are by Kellie, Ian’s sister. She took them on a day when Ian and I went on a DATE!

My grandmother RoRo bought the boys matching Mickey Mouse outfits. I made them wear the outfits to her 89th birthday party. 

 
Asher loves necklaces. This is a picture of me at 4th of July at Nicole’s house.

His very first chocolate-dipped strawberry.
 
Three more pictures from 4th of July. I love this one of Snow.
 

Asher is studying hard for Ian’s upcoming BCBA exam.

Chocolate cake!!!

Everybody is miserable. I  want my mommy.

Know what happens when you have a fever?

After further conversations with the kid, you learn that the thermometer flew out of his mouth and broke, not what you had feared: that he had bitten down on it and broken it with his teeth. This makes you feel better.

You go back to the interwebs for more information.  You find more information here and here. California Poison Control System has this to say:
“How toxic is elemental mercury?

Lucas has been ill since sometime Sunday night. Fever mostly. Monday afternoon it spiked to 104 degrees, complete with sweats and chills. It’s no fun. We three have been stuck at home for the last two and a half days and we’re bored. I’ve been working on a copyediting project and unable to send my sick kid to the babysitters, so Lucas has been watching FAR too much TV. I wish I weren’t having to resort to the boob tube, but I’ll be damned if the Disney channel doesn’t keep my boys engrossed! (I’m not proud.)

I haven’t been able to get to the gym because of Lucas’s illness. So I’m feeling … um … ansty? achey? itchy to get my ass on the treadmill. I suppose that’s a good sign that my exercising is moving back into the neighborhood of habit. It is a good neighborhood.

I think he’s on the mend now. Today he made a valiant effort to convince me I should take him out to lunch at a restaurant. Um, No. Then he offered to pay. Um, still NO. He’s mad at me because he is bored. I guess he thinks if I were a cool mom, I’d let him do all the stuff he wants to even though he’s sick. We’re not going to play group this afternoon, even though we’re all desperate to get out of the house.

Asher has a low-grade fever. I assume he’s coming down with it, too. 

Meh.

Hi friends,

Thank you very, very much for the congratulations and hoorays! I appreciate all the good wishes you’ve sent my way. It’s been a challenging spring/summer for me.

It’s such a peculiar industry I’m in. That I have to take exams, pay finders fees to my network, and that some companies I encounter are outsourcing to India or only paying $11 per hour for professional-level work is just ludicrous. I constantly have to remind myself, when I get scared, that I don’t want work so badly I’m willing to work for pennies! I have to hold out for GOOD CLIENTS, not just ANY CLIENTS. Because I don’t live to work; I work to live. Quality of life is more important than quantity of work.