Burnt out of my fingertips
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
I’m having severe blog-fatigue. That, and I don’t have a whole lot of time by the computer these days. Jelly Man will take control of the computer immediately upon his return to the nest in the afternoon, and since we cleaned the house from top to godbedamned bottom, I’ve had to put in time every single day to keep it presentable. It’s not even super clean, but it looks so much better (and feels twice as good), but argh, enough of all the dirty dishes and all that damned laundry that demands to be loaded/unloaded/stacked taking up precious time of my and Carlita’s lives that we’ll never get back.
But, I guess this is what being a “housewife” is all about, eh? And, well, I actually feel grownup these days. Imagine that!
* * *
I’m giving up candy for a year or so. Attempting, anyway. We are officially TTC these days, not just considering it. I’ve been pondering it since a good six months back, and thought I was absolutely sure we wanted to/could handle two kidlings, but now that the plan is laid and we’re actually giving it a shot I feel absolutely terrified. Can I possibly love another as I love her? (the blogosphere gives a unanimous YES to that question), and the thought of unintentionally loving one more than the other is just plain scary. Both Jelly Man and I are singletons in practice, so we just don’t know anything about sibling love and/or rivalry.
* * *
Carlita is being such a fuss about her naps. They have dwindled to next to nothing, and some nights she can will herself to be awake until 10pm, babbling to herself in bed. It drives me nuts and up the walls, it took me a while to figure out what was so infuriating about her inability to embrace sleep (something I am a champ at), but Jelly Man solved that one by pointing out how she is just like him about sleep. In other words, sleep is for the weak!
* * *
And lo and behold! The Jelly Man arrives. And so I must log off. There is more, but never enough time!
Two Years Old
Thursday, July 31, 2008
So much to say, and not enough words.
Picking up the thread, but not quite where I left off
Monday, July 28, 2008
I wrote up a storm last night before getting interrupted by a guest, and instead of saving it like a good girl I left the browser window up. We popped in a DVD and half way through I was sent off to bed because I kept falling asleep. Apparently I snore or something (I do not - at least not to the best of my knowledge, and I choose to stay in denial. So there.) This morning the browser window was gone - poof! Possibly the best post ever written and it falls prey to a drunk-as-a-skunk Jelly Man who decides that his last day of rest before going back into the trenches is the best day to set himself up for a hangover on his first day of being back in the trenches. Except it appears that his fifth week of vacation was approved by the boss because no one called this morning to complain of his absence. So he is home for another week. Lets see if he is brave enough to pull the same trick next Sunday.
This past month has been such a roller coaster, yet I’m ranking it up there as possibly the best summer of my life as of yet. Parenting is really tough (no shit!) and I keep having freak outs - mostly about whether or not I am doing a good job or not, and the reason I freak out is because I think I’m doing everything wrong - but as we’ve started to set firm boundaries for Carlita, things are less freaky and more soaringly-fucking-happy. Sure, she is hitting the terrible twos (I wish I was as confident as Jane about the non-existence of the horror lovingly known as “The Terrible Twos”, but I’m failing miserably. If this is not a phase then I’m fucked!), but in between the outbursts she is, how do I put this? FUCKING BRILLIANT! Parenting is tough, yes, but the good times make it all worth the anxiety and guilt.
I was almost ready to grab her firmly by the shoulder’s, look her into the eyes and tell her to Just say something, please!? - I mean, I did it in my mind about a thousand times. But I needn’t have. She just kind of exploded in half-words, syllables and on occasion said It’s a good day, no mistake about it, one day and hasn’t let up since. I wonder though if she knew she said It’s a good day, or if it was just words to her that sounded funny rolling off the tounge. One thing is for certain though, there isn’t much she doesn’t understand these days.
I, however, have a hard time understanding her still, and I feel kind of bad about that. Aren’t I supposed to be able to understand every little grunt? God forbid, am I an “unplugged” mother for not understanding her babble? I feel like the more I get to see of her growing personality, the less I KNOW her, and the more fascinated I am with who she is turning into. There is a will in there that I can’t touch, that I don’t influence, at least not by a lot. She is who she is, regardless of me or anyone else, and I don’t know why this is a surprise to me, but it is. I guess I just never thought about that before. As if by simply being her mother I’d know her inside out from the get-go. But it’s dawning on me that I’ll never fully know all there is to know about this girl, but it’s the parts I do know that are more than enough to get me through the day.
All kinds of crazy
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Me: So, what do you think?
Him: I think you’re getting too bored, too often. (followed by mad cackling)
We got a call from USAGC, which is the USA green card lottery people. I filled in the application in order to enter another, unrelated lottery and promptly forgot about it. Honestly, I feel a little dirty. The woman who called me up had an intelligible but heavy accent, and while she was rambling up all the countries that were not eligible in this lottery (oh, we are fortunate to be born in the land of Danes and Funland, respectively, for sure) I couldn’t help think how she might just be working at a callcenter in any of those countries herself.
I felt slightly dirty telling her I’m a housewife. And more so when she told me it was OK because I am married to someone who does have a job.
And by the way, we have twice as much chance to win because we’re married. And Carlita would of course get a green card too.
It feels all kinds of wrong to be eligible just because of where we were born. I don’t speak for all Funns, but I’m sure they’d be able to find a million other people that are more deserving than the two of us - and I wanted to tell her; Lady, you do not want us. Trust me.
I told her I needed to discuss it with my husband, because she wanted us to pony up money. I devilishly lied and told her Jelly Man was working while he is, in fact, on his third week of a month long vacation - spending much of his time farting and playing poker - and felt utterly disgusted with myself.
* * *
In other news, I got my period. That is all kinds of relief and only slightly melancholic.
* * *
He behaved like a gentle giant, but he was the smallest of us all. He died, and I already forget when, but his grave is neatly tucked between two berry bushes - something I’m sure he would approve of, had he only known - and it rained later that night, how fitting. I couldn’t help thinking that the roses bloomed so hard and fiercely this year just for him. His little box was padded with rose petals and stemless roses. We’re pretty sure he passed away in his sleep, and thinking back we do remember him being a bit on the tired side as of late.
Every now and then it hits me hard, but he had a pretty good life. And a long one, six whole years.
R.I.P. Twin, the boarest of boars.
