I am seriously considering the whole non-blogging thing, but for now, I think I'm going to try on the blog-once-a-week thing. Which would be more than what's been going on. Frankly, though, I think it'll be a mixed batch. The whole original point of this thing for me was to get stuff out of my head, but you know, then people show up. And it's difficult not to be thinking about that when you write. And maybe sometimes you need to be--the point becomes communication instead of expulsion. And maybe the need to entertain. And then when you don't feel up to entertaining or communicating, you stop, but there you are again with a whole bunch of stuff in your head. I guess what I'm saying is, just because I'm going to write it doesn't mean it's going to be worth reading. No offense taken.
I have been moderately keeping up with all your blogs, at least...Catherine's warts and Scrivener's books and Joe's trip to Paris of which I am EXTREMELY jealous and John's baseball fever and Flea's cat's head in a box and BABIES damn it cute, cute, babies. And of course all the other stuff that goes on in everyone's life but I will not write an entire paragraph about it because you've already done so and better than I could, certainly.
Things here are good. Really good. But very busy.
It's almost Easter, and I would beg you, just walk away from the Peeps. Oh, my people, the Peeps, they are vile. But of course, we go through this every year, and I am used to living in my lonely, Peeps-shunning exile.
My kids have a baby brother now. Have I already mentioned this? I can't remember. It's happy, and it's sad. It's complicated, mostly, and although it isn't really something I have to think about on a daily basis, I certainly wish things could be easier for the people who do.
I think a lot about my mother, and how she moved back in with her parents when she had me, and how hard it must have been, and I feel really sad for Monica, and at the same time I think about how I saw myself, and my mother, and my father (and specifically, his absense) as a child, and how it all went around in circles in my head. And I think about how differently I see it now, and wonder how this baby will see it...
When we were visiting my uncle last year, everyone was reminiscing (I almost wrote, all the adults were reminiscing. Isn't that funny? Like, when I'm around my mom and aunts and uncles, they're the adults). And my uncle said to my mom, "Did I ever tell you that when [my father] left, Joe [my mom's first cousin] called me up and said, 'Come on, we're going to go find him and beat the hell out of him.'?" "Did you??" asked my mom, and he said "No, I talked him out of it, but he really wanted to." And it was sort of odd, because I never thought of anyone else in my family having a reaction to his leaving her. Which is stupid, of course they would have had a reaction. Kind of weird.
So anyway, geez I do go on, but Monica and I are keeping in touch, and I hope that if things go well, that will make things easier for everyone involved, and if things don't go well, it will at the very least make it easier for her and the baby and of course my kiddos. B is pretty sad that his brother is so far away, and sometimes I just feel royally pissed at the Ex over the whole thing, but that's just the way it is.
It's difficult when someone has a disorder that really effs up the choices they make on a regular basis, and when that person's choices affect your kids. Because you can spend a lot of time being mad about it, but that person is really as much a victim as anyone--at least if he or she is doing their best to get better, and he really is, so what good does it do to be angry? It would just be anger at a circumstance, and that's fine now and then for venting purposes but you can't hold onto it.
Change of subject: Money. As it turns out, I'm not really a candidate for the whole debt-management plan; it wouldn't save me that much interest or lower my payments by a great deal. But just getting to the point of deciding to do that has put me in a place where I'm really serious about getting out of the debt. And in accordance, other things stepped up to fill the gap, not least among them an unexpected promotion and raise. So from that perspective, I'm in a great place now, and anticipate being out of this hole completely within 2 years.
Of course I'm grateful for this turn of events, but I'm also now much, much more occupied with work. Not to mention the return of Le Saison de Football (that would be soccer for the non-ex-French-espoused amongst you). The Girl is old enough to play now, so that equates to 3 practices and 2 games per week. Say it with me: Oy. Plus the dance, gymnastics, Scout meetings... (Yes. I know. Feel free to email me and we'll discuss, but suffice it to say that it was a long, painful, and drawn-out decision-making process.) Typical weekday: Set the alarm for 6, check email, get some exercise (oy I am heavy right now), make breakfast, get the kids off to school, work (which, btw, now involves HOURS of phone calls that were absent before), pick up the Girl, take the Girl to gymnastics, work during the class, home, spend some time with the Girl (keeping an eye on email), Boy comes home, snacks, take Boy to soccer practice, home (email), make dinner while Boy does homework, feed kids, play with kids, bathe kids, read to kids, bedtime for kids, work until about 1 a.m., go to sleep.
Do we notice what's missing from that day? Go ahead, take a look.
Plus, soon, family French lessons. The Ex has been offering to pay for the kids for some time, and I finally found the time to call the local language exchange and get more info. They offer private family lessons so we'll be heading across town once a week for those. I'm really quite happy about this one, as I think I'm more interested in them knowing that part of their heritage than even their father is. The fact is that I'm a little jealous--I'd have loved to have a whole intriguing foreign family set as a kid. I am totally going to play up the "you can speak in secret and hardly anyone will understand you thing" as a motivating factor. Spying is big in our house.
To illustrate, I leave you with the following conversation. Don't say I never gave you anything.
[In the car, at a stoplight, next to a Lamborghini.]
PK: Yo, B! Check out that car.
The Boy: Huh. That looks like my [HotWheels] car. The one I smashed [with a big rock. HotWheels have it tough around my kid].
PK: Yeah, it does. Except this one probably cost $100,000.
B: [making noise of disgust] Mom, I would NEVER pay that much money for a car. I mean, not for THAT car. I'm going to pay that much money when I grow up and get a car, but my car's going to be a CAMPER!
PK: Well, that's certainly more practical. Not only would you get a trunk, you'd get a potty and a kitchen and a bed.
B: Yeah, and I'm going to travel the country, having adventures. As a spy. SPY adventures. In my camper.
I can't wait for the high-speed chases.