Because

I just locked myself in the bathroom for about 20 minutes to bawl my eyes out. Because I somehow got caught on the wrong side of friend politics with one of my oldest and closest friends. Because I’m totally overwhelmed by life in general right now. Because I am hormonal. Because I’m facing a summer with no money with which to entertain my children and to be frank, I’m just not that creative. Because I just want one thing to go our way, and it’s not. Because my dad is dying. Because my son is struggling mightily with growing up and I don’t know how to help him. Because my daughter is sweet and amazing and I just cannot keep up with her right now and thus the guilt is nearly overwhelming. Because I haven’t had a day off in longer than is healthy for me. Because I miss my friends and I’m not entirely sure they miss me back (although that might be the hormones talking). Because the fucking wind will not stop. Because I can’t seem to stay on top of laundry. Because we didn’t get to plant flowers on Mother’s Day this year because of lack of money and the weather won’t settle into spring. Because our lawyer has turned into a jackass. Because I desperately want to ask my in laws to please come for a visit just to have fun and get to know their grandchildren and I’m terrified to ask because I couldn’t handle it if they say no, but I miss them. Because I’m tired and the sleepless nights have already started. Because I’m in a cooking rut I can’t seem to find my way out of. Because we got invited to a fancy party on Sunday night and I don’t have anything fancy to wear and no one to watch my children so they have to come with us to this party where there will probably be no other children and they also don’t have anything fancy to wear. Because my neighbor across the street is moving and I’m going to miss her and her children. Because, because, because, because…I guess I just needed a good cry.

4/21/10 - The Boy

The Boy is having a hard time. He’s spent the last couple of weeks throwing magnum force meltdown temper tantrums. He’s been full of anger and not at all responding to redirection well. Essentially, for lack of other more politically correct parenting terms, he’s been freaking out. And it just keeps getting worse. Until he had the mother of all meltdowns last night. My husband and I were up with him until almost 9:30pm (we typically put both kids to bed at 7pm). He spent most of that time crying, screaming, kicking, slamming his head into the wall and throwing things. He would not listen to me or his dad, he would not calm down. He was totally lost in this gigantic emotional outburst. We finally just left him in his room and told him to let us know when he was ready to talk. After another almost hour of crying and screaming he asked us to come in and talk to him. And after another almost 30 minutes of unintelligible mumbling we finally got out of him that he was just really mad and sad that his papa was going to die.

Ah. Ok. Here we go.

I’m actually surprised it took this long to surface. I was surprised with how well he took the conversation my dad had with both the kids. But there was also a sneaky suspicion boiling that he in fact did not take it well at all and was instead just stuffing all the emotions the news brought up with him. That he was hoping that keeping perpetually busy, running like a wild child with his friends that maybe the news would just go away. And then I told him that his sister and I were going back to Nana and Papa’s next week and it was all downhill from there.

He had another meltdown at school today which ended with the school calling me three times to give me updates on how he was doing.

I’m worried about him. And I don’t know how to help him. I think all I can do right now is love him and make sure he knows that he is not alone.

3/21/10 - Solace in Baking

I went cooking and baking crazy today. I was all twitchy today because my dad took my children for a walk to tell them he was dying. He and I had talked about the best way to break it to them, to start that conversation with them. I mean, I had started the general death conversation with The Boy already, but had not applied any of that to my Dad as of yet. And today, my Dad did exactly that.

The Girl took it all in stride of course. I think she’s still close enough to that other side for it not to frighten her or make her feel like she’ll be really losing anything. The Boy, however, had a rough afternoon. I wish more than anything that my husband had been here because The Boy latched onto my cousin D (him being the only other man here besides my Dad) and took him into a conversation I’m not at all sure D was prepared for, especially with a kid he had known for about 2 days. But they both did great. I just watched from the kitchen door in between mixing, measuring and chopping.

It was not an easy thing for my Dad either, but he did a beautiful job with it and was able to hold it together for his grandchildren. I am pretty sure I would not have been able to do that. In fact, I was not able to really hold it together much so I buried my face in lemon bars and angel food cake cookies. Potato Salad and Cole Slaw. I have never been so grateful to have such a hoard to feed with all the family here.

Thankfully tonight Aunt T set down with Dad for another round of interrogation that ended with the best story yet of how my Dad talked his high school biology teacher into letting him perform surgical procedures on a rat, namely removing one of its kidneys. Which he then had to take home for the summer as his personal charge. He hid the animal in the garage only to be summoned one day by my Grandma’s ear splitting scream. Best. Story. Ever.

Karmic Bone to Pick

Alright. I’ve a bone to pick with karma. Everything from the fact that we finally get a string of sunny days and I’m stuck inside with sick kids. To the fact that my dad is going downhill fast according to my mom and I’ve got sick kids so therefore cannot go to NM to be with him. Oh and there was the whole we paid off my husband’s car and then he got into a car accident less than 24 hours after we paid the sucker off. There’s the biggie of my dad dying of course. And to top it all off, my dog died. Seriously?!? What’s this all about?

I’ve been working my ass off for the past 18 months to grow as a person in pretty much every conceivable way. I’ve been doing everything I know how to do to take care of my family and make it stronger. I’ve been pushing and learning and just doing what needs to be done in order to be a better person all the way around. And instead of even just getting a breather, the universe just keeps piling more crap on my plate (and the plates of the people I love now that you mention it).

I just don’t get it. Is the universe on a broadly sweeping war path these days? Between the earthquakes and tsunamis, the shootings, the financial issues, the health crises and on and on it feels like one big tragic swath is being cut through the world. Indiscriminate in its path and showing no mercy.

There’s a part of me that wants to climb atop of the tallest mountain and scream at the powers that be to knock it the hell off already. There’s another part of me that just wants to curl up in a ball and cry. Then there’s a part of me that is continually grateful for the chance to keep learning. Grateful that I’m being forced to keep expanding in my being, because at this point I would b relishing in full-on sloth-hood because I’m so bone tired. Granted I think that grateful part of me is a wee bit on the crazy side. But still.

2/12/10 - Winter Olympics

The Winter Olympics start tonight! I love the Olympics. Although I do remember thinking for a long time that I liked the Winter Olympics more than the Summer Olympics only to have that soundly disproven two years ago when I got so into the Summer Olympics that I was nearly insufferable. I don’t think I’ll get that way again this time for a couple of reasons. First because the X Games were just two weeks ago and I got thoroughly saturated with Winter sports, especially the ones I really like. Although the X Games have yet to include figure skating. Or ice dancing. And I don’t see those being added anytime soon.

I was glad to see that Shawn White’s chin is almost completely healed. Lindsey Vonn is healing and getting some help from the weather by getting her events postponed. And the American athletes look to be pretty good shape.

Except for one. The young man from the Georgian Olympic team who died today during one of his practice runs. And of course the news showed the accident. Although I do have to give it to them that they only showed it once and then pulled it in respect for the family. Thank goodness. Because it was truly brutal. I cannot imagine flying through the air at 90 miles an hour, having your body whipped out of any control by heinous g-forces only to have all of that savage movement stopped abruptly by a steel beam. The only hope I have for this young man is that he was killed instantly and felt no pain. The safety teams have been deconstructing the accident to determine how they can ensure it never happens again. I hope they succeed.

So it’s with bittersweet enthusiasm that we’ll watch the opening ceremonies. Everyone’s been wondering whether Vancouver would be able to outdo the opening ceremonies from China, knowing full well that they couldn’t. And in a breath of fresh air, the producer/designer for the ceremony said he had no intention to even try. His sole purpose was to showcase the wonders of Canada and make every single viewer want to visit. Sounds like a good idea to me!

2/3/10 - This Parenting Thing Keeps Getting More Complicated

So, in the last week and a half, The Boy has taken first prize in his science fair, gotten 35 out of 50 words right in his class spelling bee and had four notes about his behavior sent home. I’m totally the proud mama on the first two and completely bewildered by the last one. He’s never been a behavior problem in any of his classes since he was two years old and bit one of his preschool classmates so hard he drew blood. Ever since then, he’s pretty much been an easy going kid. Even if he occasionally does have trouble staying in his seat or not chattering in between lessons. But that’s totally age appropriate, expected stuff and it’s never been a problem.

Now all of a sudden, it’s a problem. So I sat down with him tonight to talk it out. Determined to get to the bottom of whatever was going on. Because, maddeningly, the only thing the teacher actually said was “He is having trouble making good choices in PE and my classroom.” Which doesn’t tell me a whole hell of a lot. And actually served to piss me off more than anything. But The Boy and I sat down anyway. It turns out that he’s having trouble with a boy in his class constantly pushing and hitting him and then telling the teachers that he started it. Hence The Boy getting into trouble with the “making bad choices.”

I had several emotions immediately rise to the surface upon hearing this news. The first of which was rage. Rage at this boy for bullying my son and rage at this school for allowing it to happen right under their noses. Also rage at the teachers for taking one kid’s word over another without doing any further investigation. And absolute sadness that my sweet, super sensitive boy was having to endure this at such a young age. As The Boy crumbled into tears in my arms after finally getting this out, I was overcome with wanting to protect him from every cruelty in the world.

Which I can’t do obviously. But I sure as hell will write his teacher a stern email.

Wall

Ok, so apparently I’ve lost my mind. Or hit a wall. Or something. Because it appears that my current options are either crying mess or harpy. Lovely. Exactly how I wanted to kick off my week! I just cannot seem to pull it together. I’m trying to just be, as uncomfortable as it may be, in the hopes that all of this will just work itself out and I can go back to my own version of functionality. Because bursting into tears every time someone asks how I am is just not acceptable. And neither is screaming at my children just because they happen to be breathing in my general vicinity. I’m being ridiculous.

People keep telling me that I need to refuel myself so that I can keep being strong. And while there is definitely part of me that would like to take that advice and would definitely like to go back to being strong, the me that is right now just laughs and throws dirty looks when I hear that advice. Because right now it feels like it would take years to refuel. That laying on a beach with no responsibilities, no expectations, no nothing for several months straight would do nothing but scratch the surface. And there is no part of me that feels strong right now. I feel like I could very well disintegrate on the spot. Like a stiff wind could just blow the pieces of me away like brittle leaves.

And I wish I could say that I was being dramatic. But that’s how I feel right now, brittle and hollow. And that just really sucks. Mostly because it came out of nowhere. I was doing so well! I mean, yes, I’ve had a couple of crabby days and a bunch of rollercoaster riding, but I never expected anything like this. To just be laid flat with grief and stress before my dad actually died. I don’t know what to do with this. But I’d like for it go away now. I’ll click my heels, wrinkle my nose, apparate, Calgon take me away, whatever it takes I’m more than willing to try. Just no more crying or yelling please.

Glitz and Glamour Overshadowed

Let the awards season begin! I love awards season. This time last year I wrote about how much I love to be a peeping tom on the glitz and glamour of the whole thing. About how much I loved the fancy dresses and the women dripping in diamonds. And that still holds true.

Except for two things. The first is that there just doesn’t seem to be very many “serious” movies this year. There is The Hurt Locker and Precious which both look amazing, but other than that, there’s Avatar, Nine, 500 Days of Summer and Invictus pretty much. Of those, Precious and The Hurt Locker are what I would consider “typical” Oscar nominated films. The others are comparably fluffy. I just think it’s interesting. It just wasn’t really a year for heavy movies. And if the Golden Globes were any preview (which they often are) Avatar is going to make a clean sweep.

The second is that the whole thing, all of the excess and typical joy and over the top-ness of the award season is currently being vastly overshadowed by the earthquake in Haiti. I haven’t written much about the earthquake because, really, what is there to say? It’s a horrific situation for this country that simply cannot catch a break. It’s heartbreaking and just to think about it makes me want to cry. And there’s not a damn thing I can do about any of it because we can’t even afford to buy carrots right now, let alone make a donation to the Red Cross. So all I can do is try to keep all of those people, all of those children, in my heart and thoughts and fervently wish that someone steps in to take care of these people whose entire lives are beset with tragedy.

Mo’nique was so sweet and honest when she won for her role in Precious, Sandra Bullock looked gorgeous, Kate Winslet looked simply overjoyed to no longer be in the spotlight, Jason Reitman has got to be one of the nicest (and most talented) people in the business right now and George Clooney should be kicked in the shins for hiding his face with that beard.

The Un-numbered Stage

I sort of wish that Elizabeth Kubler-Ross had interjected a sadness stage in her 5 stages of grief. Because that’s where I’ve been the last two days. And it doesn’t quite fit. I’m not in stage three – bargaining. I know my dad is going to die. I know there is nothing I can do to avert that, change it or make it any different. It just is. And that makes me very sad. But not depression sad (stage 4). I’m still functioning. I went out with girlfriends last night and was in prime form. I’ve been emailing and talking to people all day. I’ve been working my way through to-do lists (even if one of those to-dos includes making more lists). I know depression inside and out, believe me, and this ain’t it. This is just quite simply, sadness. Every little thing sends me into tears. Not body wracking sobs, but tears. Just soft, mushy, gushy tears.

And I’m thinking that because of how easily I’m suddenly teary (the movie Happy Feet, St. Jude commercials, good gawd, St. Jude commercials, watching The Girl “make” me lunch, you name it), The Girl has been glued to me for the last two days. She wants me to do everything. She almost completely ignores my husband (where she used to go running into Dada’s arms with glee upon his arrival home). She won’t let anyone do anything for her but me. As I was on my way out the door last night for my Mama’s Night Out she clung to my neck saying “But my will miss you Mama!” Jeez, girlfriend, give a mama a break would ya? If I ask her for a wee bit of space, she starts crying in return. And then we’re both tearful messes. Maybe my own tears are making her a bit insecure?

But I’m pretty done with it now. I’ve always been more of a have a huge sobbing fit and get it out of my system kind of gal instead of weepy. This whole constant weepiness thing is exhausting. But I know I’ve not yet seen the end of it. I guess I should just keep tissues in my pocket.