In the past 2.5 months, I have been: traveling out of state for a total of 6 weeks to San Antonio/Mississippi/Houston (sorry, I didn’t catch you while we were in Houston Mama, but we literally were there for less than 20 hours total including drive time and appointment), had kids for a little more than 4 weeks, and for funsies there’s been approximately 40 different doctor appointments (me & Paladin combined) with an additional 8 appointments scheduled before February. It’s taken the past 4 days of relative peace for me to get the house semi-livable (who knew taking down 15 large boxes of Christmas decorations would take so long? any woman from the past century, that’s who). I’ve been increasingly exhausted and dissatisfied with my current state of “life”. Those quotation marks are deserved. Cuz child this ain’t livin’ by a long shot. This is EXISTING, pure and simple!
So why did I even bother to get online? I’m going to be honest. There have been a few days when I could get online for an hour or two but I haven’t blogged (though, I’ve kept up with you occasionally via the feeds in the Vista sidebar) or Facebooked or even checked email. Those couple of hours amounted to me being in a semi-vegetative state in front of Youtube watching old BBC sitcoms and longing for the days when my hair got brushed. I really wouldn’t even want to admit to how little my hair got brushed in the last 2.5 months. A hair clip is so very forgiving. I wouldn’t call my desire to curl up into a ball depression. It’s more of the old Hollywood “check me into the hospital for exhaustion” type of thing but without the heroine addiction. The last out of state visit was to Houston to see the reconstructive surgeon, and a major concern of his was that I would have a long recovery because he thinks that it’s possible Tricare will cover having my arm flab, thighs, and tummy done (we won’t talk about the giant ass and tits down to my navel left behind). My thought when he mentioned the horrible, long, painful recovery? I think visions of sugar plums ACTUALLY danced in my head. Weeks in bed where I’m not having to do everything for the 14 living people (not counting the 4 legged people in fur coats) who depend on me on a nearly daily basis? Had a little mini-orgasm just typing that. I keep longing for normalcy but I’ve finally accepted that our schedule is not now and will not be normal indefinitely. Paladin and I had a long talk on the way home from Mom’s the other night about how frazzled I am (that’s the perfect word that is). He’s, of course, afraid that I’m regretting my life and am going to run away with Raoul as soon as my body is resculpted. Ha! As if I’d have the energy for that. I’m still hoping for that me time. Unfortunately, blogging stopped being that for me some time ago.
I loved blogging. I loved meeting new people and building a virtual community. However, over time blogging became more and more of a committment. It became another on my neverending lists of tasks to complete. The two hours out of my day to keep up with blog friends and writing was the first casualty of my new life. I understand completely the laments of other bloggers who hate to see their blog friends move on after sharing their misadventures of singlehood or infertility. Those of us who get lost in the real world miss you as much as you miss us. I’ve been avoiding blogging because I couldn’t see any way to have my cake and eat it without regret. For a long time, I’ve debated shutting down the blog entirely. I thought about just doing the Facebook thing, but I still hate FB and there are things that I don’t want some people on FB to know because frankly, they aren’t as close to me as ya’ll are/were. For those of you with the job, the kids, and the community functions who still blog and keep up with everything: WTH? I’d have to grow an extra arm out of my ass and a have a secondary brain implanted with it.
So, we’ve established that I can’t blog anymore. At least, I can’t blog the way I used to. I can’t spare the hours out of my life to blog when I’m lucky to shave my pits once a week. It’s a matter of priorities. I need to be a priority and you need to be a priority for me too. So, I’m going to try something that sounds absolutely exhausting: I’m going to post AT LEAST twice a month and Facebook AT LEAST twice a week. I know. Sounds like a total cop out, but if I find that there are weeks when I have time enough for me and time enough to blog: great! If not, I won’t want to have myself horse-whipped for letting anyone down. I’m not going to promise to read or reply to your every post, but I’m going to skim like my life depended on it. I realize that some people will defriend me or whatever, but screw ’em. Frankly, if no one wants to talk to me, that’s fine by me. It won’t hurt my feelings a bit. For God’s sake, if I’ve missed something vital like death, illness, or birth (and chances are that I have), don’t hesitate to point it out to me. I’m used to sticking my foot in my mouth. Otherwise, the best I can do is a heartfelt try these days. If nothing else, you may enjoy lurking around to watch the train wreck!
So here’s an ultra-quick catch up on my last 2 to 3 months of life:
Paladin had facial reanimation and vocal chord implant surgeries which were largely successful. However, one eye hasn’t closed properly, and we’re going to have to do something about it. I don’t doubt that you’ll be seeing us again before you know it, Tabitha.
Mom’s leg is healed enough for her doctor to give her the ok to put weight on it. Mom won’t go back to the rehab hospital though. 😦 Not even when little 3 yr. old Indie stood by her bed and said, “Gramma you gots to go to the hospital to walk.” The old bitty looked that 3 yr. old right in the eye and told her, “No!” I did get her to promise the little girls that she’d work on rehab at home though and I plan to hold it over her head BIG TIME!
Brian’s brother, Jon spent almost 2 weeks in ICU with pneumonia, but he’s back here and feeling ok enough to drag in some ho the other night. Actually, I’m not sure she was old enough to be a ho. She looked about 12.
My camera stopped taking video right in the freakin’ middle of Christmas! It especially sucked since we had just put a swing up in the big oak tree out back. Now, I’ve lost the looks of absolute joy on the little girl’s faces as they had their first swing of their very own. 😦 I hope I never forget the squeals and laughter which were enhanced by it swinging slightly crooked. I looked out the backdoor the next day to find that Indie had pulled a yard chair up and was trying to jump onto the swing. I caught her just in time!
Paladin is getting a surgery consult soon for a vasectomy reversal. He’s been cautioned that it’s unlikely to be approved because of his age and his radiation therapy. His thought on the subject? “You know at your age we could have at least 5 more!” Ummm…idiocy runs deeply in this one.
I have a surgery consult this week myself for a chronic herniated intestine (the intestines try to play peekaboo with the gap between the old stomach and the new stomach). The lovely folks on base are drooling to play with my innards. They gonna play hell! I ain’t got enough stomach left to play around with. So, we’ll see how that goes. Next week, I get to do a fertility ultrasound. Oh and they’re going to check my cataract. That’s right. I’m that freakin’ old. My eye doctor told me I’ve got a cataract on my left eye and that in just a couple of years I’ll need bifocals. How does one respond to that? Just tell me! How?
My cousin Flaxen, of the beaten up by her ex-Marine boyfriend in front of her 4 yr. old son post, not only dropped the charges against the man, but is now very much pregnant by him. It’s getting uglier every day with the back and forth, but she’s still taking care of herself better than I expected.
My Dad was put in jail for over a week and put on suicide watch. That’s notable, I think. Doh, aka Golddigging Step-barf-mother, had apparently called the cops on him one night and it took more than a week for him to be seen by a psychologist who immediately cleared him and denied Doh’s claim of incompetence. They split up, but it looks like he’s going back to her now. Yeah, nothing like trying to put someone away as incompetent to show your love.
My friend Susan emailed me the other day that her baby girl has just been diagnosed with cerebral palsy and may have leukemia.
Paladin has also joined CASA (Court Appointed Special Advocates for abused children) and I’ll have my Tuesday nights Paladin-less for a while.
As for the kids situation:
I’ll start from the beginning. As soon as Paladin and I were married we went in to the Social Security office and filed the paperwork with them. This stopped Mull’s part of the SSI check. The other day we found out that she has secretly married blind boy (why is it a secret from everyone including the little girls? WHO KNOWS WITH HER! you’d think it would give them a better sense of security if anything). Coincidentally, she “decided” to marry him the minute her SSI got cut off. Then she found out the same way I did that she don’t get jack unless she has another baby with Blind Boy. Guess who is planning to add to the brood? Yeah, stellar plan Mull.
Mull is also desperately looking for a new place to live. She moved into the trailer park about a year ago and we’re guessing that her lease is coming up. The fly in that ointment? She’s lost her job at the shoe store. How is that a fly you ask? At Thanksgiving Indie showed up in new shoes. They were light up Sketchers Dora and from the shoe store where Mull works. These were not cheap shoes. Similar, non-Dora, non-light up Sketchers sell for $20 at the outlet store down the road and that is a rock bottom price for them. Mull ain’t never in her life spent $20 on a pair of shoes for the little girls (for the older kids she will…because they know the difference and she can’t get away with that crap). This was highly suspicious. Next thing we know, Mull isn’t at work. She hasn’t worked for a month. No explanation for anyone, not even the kids. I think you see where I’m going with this one. I suspect that she either stole the shoes outright or mislabeled them and took them at a cheap price and got caught. It’s that or she doesn’t work if she’s married. What does this have to do with looking for a new place to live? The German folks that run the trailer park know the ones who gave her the job at the shoe store. It’s like I’ve said all along: give her time and she’ll out herself for the trash she is.
Speaking of just how trashy Mull is let this be the example: Just before Christmas, the little girls came in telling us how Mull had taken them to a special store and got this little girl a new bike, and a computer thing, and new clothes all for Christmas. Well, I was crestfallen. The best we could do for Savvy and Blondie was used bikes that we fixed up and now one of them was going to get a new bike at home from some type of Toys for Tots program. So, on Christmas, I braced for the inevitable, “I got a new bike at the trailer.” I need not have worried. The children never got their presents. Mull bought the little girls checkers and a $3 Littlest pet shop game; she didn’t spend even $20 on each of the 3 little ones. The teenagers got $100 guitar hero games and a used PSP. 😦 What happened to the bike and computer thing and new clothes? We’re guessing she sold their Christmas presents. Yeah, every time you think she can’t go lower…
Can I end on a happy note or what?
P.S.- Paladin says I shouldn’t end on a downer and that I didn’t tell you that the kids had a great Christmas here. Actually, they had a great Christmas Eve (one present and a dinner) here, a great Christmas morning here (with actual jawdropping when they saw their used bikes), and a great Christmas day at Mom’s. That’s a total of 2 giant stockings of candy. Did I mention that I even managed to make stockings for all of us in the middle of doctor appointments? They came out great too! I hope I took a picture. They were here so much that some of the many lessons I’ve been teaching them like knock before opening a door, close the door when you’re dressing, and saying “please” and “thank you” actually took hold. I don’t expect them to still do them when they get back this weekend. After the first 2 weeks of Mull being at home, they had all regressed a great deal. Indie kept hiding under tables and Blondie just kept wanting to know when she could go back. 😦 I wish she’d get another job or leave them in a field. Being raised by wolves would be better than having her around! So much for Paladin’s non-downer.
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