Wednesday, June 26, 2013

On Mothering the Empty House

If you ever, for some weird reason, need to immediately and completely piss me off, I'm going to tell you how: call yourself (or someone else) a "Full Time Mom" when what you mean is stay at home mom. And here's why: that implies that I am somehow not a mom when I'm at work. Like for eight whole hours a day, I take off motherhood like Mr. Rogers' jacket and become a completely different person with a completely different set of priorities.

This is not the case. I (and most everyone else) is always a mother. No matter where we are, what we are doing or what we are wearing - we are first and foremost mothers.

Which is one of the complicating factors to this week.

This week is the week my kids are gone.

Every year, the Ex takes the kids for an entire week. This means no mommy time at all. (For the record, I have one week similarly, so it's like fair and stuff.)

Now, first of all, I'm not going to sit here and pretend that this week is the worst week in the history of the universe. It's not. The house is quiet, no one wants to watch Disney Channel and things that I pick up stay picked up. I kinda hope to have the whole house (except the kids' rooms) clean by the end of the week.

That's nice.

Also, the late sleeping. I got up at 8 this morning. 8:00. I have to be at work at 8:30, but it's all good because I only have to dress myself.

But I'm also not going to sit here and pretend it's all blissful wandering around a spotless house and enjoying the quiet with a nice cup of tea. It's quiet. Really quiet.

And empty.

And quiet.

I don't really do quiet.

Plus, I find I have so very little to do on my own. I mean, sure, I have plenty to do. I have a craft list that's longer than my house, I have a whole house to clean, I could work some more on getting the fruit flies of death to move on to ANYWHERE ELSE. I rearranged my bedroom furniture on Monday, which is a project I've been putting off for literally months. I need to paint my front columns, sand my coffee table, clean out my basement and organize my out of season clothes. I should really put together an emergency preparedness kit and write a novel and take some kind of art class because I am terrible. I'd like to drink tea and crochet a bedspread and bake bread and learn to knit. And laundry... Holy crap, I should really be doing laundry.

But what I'm actually doing is cleaning off my DVR. (It's totally cleaning and should be counted as being productive.) Also reading. In bed.

And eating peanut butter for supper. Not even on a sandwich. Just peanut butter. 'Cause I can. That's why. Also, because it's so goooood.

And missing my kids. Mostly the last one.

I like sleeping alone in my bed and I like picking the TV show and I like eating what I want when I want. I like sleeping late and only having to run the dishwasher once the whole week. I do. But not enough to compensate for missing those faces. And those giggles. And those soft hands on my arms and my face while we cuddle up at story time. I love their voices and the amazing things they say and the feeling they give me of being tethered to the Earth. When they are around, I am needed, wanted, necessary and required.

It's a sense of responsibility, sure, but also of knowing where I belong.

Without them, I am filled with freedom, which is nice, but also a sort of free floating mania.

And no matter how free, they are still my tether. I am still their mother. I still worry and miss them and wonder what they are doing. I still turn to say something to Brynna in the car and find her seat empty. I still seek out Maren for cuddles and find her gone. I'm not sure that I ever truly missed anyone until I had kids.

And I miss them so much.

Please remind me of this next week when I am freaking out about the noise level and the toys and the fighting and cooking another stupid supper. I'll probably smack you, but do it anyway.

Tuesday, June 25, 2013

Music from a Warped Childhood

I'm going to attempt to do this memey thing called 30 Days of Song. I will not post this every day, because oh-my-pants-I'm-bored-already. Instead I'll post once or twice a week, as I feel like. So there. I am unrepentantly stealing this from Jen O. at My Tornado Alley. She rocks. I'm not sure if she stole it from somewhere, but here we go. 

Also, we are in the home stretch ya'll. We may finish this before I die.

A Song from my Childhood

When I was a kidlet, I listened to country music. Like, a lot of country music. Because my mom did and because I lived in Kentucky and because it was the 80's, which if you will pardon my biases, was the best possible time for country music. 

I liked a lot of songs, "My Baby is American Made," "Baby's Got Her Blue Jeans On," and "Bonnie Jean" were pretty high up there. Apparently, I had a thing for American women in blue jeans. And also cocaine and truckers. But whatevs. My absolute favorite was about this woman and her best friend, a boy named Jose and sometimes they would dance on tables for some reason. It took me decades to figure out who Jose Cuervo was.



Day 1 - Your Favorite Song - White Blank Page
Day 2 - Your Least Favorite Song - Barbie Girl
Day 3 -  A Song that Makes You Happy - Birdhouse in Your Soul
Day 4 - A Song that Makes You Sad - Anna Begins
Day 5 - A Song that Reminds you of Someone - Friend of the Devil
Day 6 - A Song that Reminds you of Somewhere - Least Complicated
Day 7 - A Song that Reminds You of a Certain Event - Mrs. Potter's Lullaby
Day 8 - A Song that You Know All the Words To  - It's the End of the World as We Know It
Day 9 - A Song that You Can Dance to - Some Nights
Day 10 - A Song that Makes you Fall Asleep  - Ice Cream
Day 11 - A Song from your Favorite Band - Later On 
Day 12 - A Song from a band you Hate - Life is a Highway
Day 13 - A Song that is a Guilty Pleasure  - Loving You is the Dumbest Thing
Day 14 - A Song that No One Would Expect you to Love - Mean
Day 15 - A Song that Describes You - She Don't Want Nobody Near 
Day 16 - A Song that You Used to Love but Now Hate - Drops of Jupiter 
Day 17 - A Song that You Hear Often on the Radio - Little Talks
Day 18 - A Song that You Wish You Heard on the Radio - Grey Ghost 
Day 19 - A Song from your Favorite Album - Normal Like You 
Day 20 - A Song that You Listen to When You're Angry  - Not Ready to Make Nice
Day 21 - A Song that you Listen to when You're Happy - Tonight, Tonight 
Day 22 - A Song that you Listen to when You're Sad  - Angel Mine
Day 23 - A Song that you Want to Play at your Wedding - Friday I'm in Love
Day 24 - A Song that you Want to Play at your Funeral - Good
Day 25 - A Song that Makes you Laugh - Twisting
Day 26 - A Song that you Can Play on an Instrument - God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen
Day 27 - A Song that you Wish you Could Play - Wagon Wheel
Day 28 - A Song that Makes you Feel Guilty - A Lifetime
Day 29 - A Song from Your Childhood (today)
Day 30 - Your Favorite Song at this Time Last Year

Monday, June 17, 2013

Some Days

I told someone recently that I need some more divorced friends. She asked why.

The answer is kind of simple: I just need someone to get it without me saying it. I need someone to know that if I say I have to go, then I have to go, because I may seriously need to get back to my kids. I need someone who understands that sometimes silence is golden and bliss and sometimes it is black and cancerous.

I don't hang out and be sociable much, but when I do, I run into a lot of the same things over and over again. My least favorite is the "My Husband Sucks" game. This is the one where all the ladies sit around the table and trade stories of the stupid things their husbands did. It's funny. I played on occasion before. But there are two reasons why I hate it now: 1. I win. No one wants to win; and 2. It always ends with a round of sweet things about them so that everyone understands that you really do love your husband. I can't play this round at all. At all. I could say something nice, but I probably wouldn't mean it and even if I did, the point is "I love him anyway," and well, not so much.

This weekend, if you are curious, was rough. The girls were gone, of course, because it was Father's Day and he's the father and it's just the right way for things to be. And I was... lonely, I guess. I'm not always lonely on the weekends they are gone. The truth is that I look forward to all weekends equally. I'm happy to have them home with me and I'm happy to sleep late and eat an ice cream sandwich for lunch. (Not that I ever do that.)

But this weekend, for some reason, the house wasn't peaceful, it was oppressive. I meant to do things, I had great intentions, but mostly I watched movies and hid from myself.

I'm not miserable. I'm not even unhappy. The truth is that I am happier now than I have been in a long time. I have not one single time regretted the divorce, regretted any choice that either of us has made since August 22, 2011. Plus, I am rockin' this single mom gig.

But that doesn't mean that I don't have rough days.

It doesn't mean that sometimes I'd like to just not talk and have another person hear all the things I'm not saying.

If there is one thing that I miss about having the Ex around, it's that we had this vast shared past. We could have entire conversations out of single words, because we knew all the rest. And that is what I feel like I need right now. Someone who gets it without explanation. At least this one little part of it.

I know I'm rambling. I'm rambling, because it's hard for me to talk about the rough times. It's hard for me to admit that I am not 100% on top of everything. It's hard for me to put into words what I feel without making it sound like I'm so saaaaad alllllll the tiiiiiiime. I'm not. I'm sad today. A little.

But, I'm here, putting fingers to keyboard because I feel this is an important part of the journey. This needs to be said. Some days, I'm not just alone. Some days, I'm lonely. Some days the quiet sucks. Some days the house is huge. Some days the nights are interminable. Some days there is no one but me.

And that's okay. Because it's not all days. Or even most days.

But yeah, some days...

Friday, June 7, 2013

5 Things on Friday: Girls Rule Edition

Over the past few weeks, I've had a series of odd experiences. It started with pregnant women. Three different expecting mothers have told me that they really hope they have boys. Then, I was with my mom when she ran into one of her friends. She told her friend that she had retired and was babysitting her granddaughters now. The woman responded, "Oh. And girls. You poor thing!" She was surrounded by little boys climbing in the cart, opening the freezer doors and pulling on her shirttail.

I'm confused. I mean, this isn't the 1840's. We don't live in a world where boys are an asset and girls are a liability. The general consensus seems to break down into two categories: 1. Girls are so haaard, and 2. If I don't live my life in a pink, ribbony, princessy world, I shouldn't have a girl.

So, today, I'm going to share

Five Reasons I Love Being a Mom to Girls*

  1. Scent - I hear that boys smell bad. I don't have one, so I'm not sure, but Brynna's room smells like fruit salad and Maren's room smells like cherry blossom lotion. I don't foresee this changing around puberty. I mean, the specific scents may change. Maren may decide that she prefers Cucumber Melon and Brynna may decide she's really more a freesia girl, but basically I feel like they are always going to smell like a soap store. I mean, they sweat and then they get cleaned up. They like things to smell pretty. Also, they are never, ever going to smell like Axe and that is a huge blessing.
  2. Freedom - Raising a girl means that eventually you're going to have to have conversations about equality and glass ceilings and pay discrepancies. If you have a four year old who is obsessed with Mary Poppins, you may have already discussed the suffragettes and why women weren't allowed to vote. But, even if women are still fighting the good fight to be whatever they want to be, little girls have won it. Maren? Maren loves trucks, motorcycles, taking things apart and this fall, she's going to play football. She also love hairbows, pretty dresses, necklaces and her Hello Kitty purse. That's okay. People may be sort of surprised by her, but no one makes it an issue. If you look at the opposite, say a boy who likes to play with dolls, wear pink and make tiny pastries, you are going to have to work your butt off to protect that kid. I stand by my children's right to be whoever they are, with no qualifiers. It just so happens that I got the easier job on that front.
  3. All the same parts - I guess that the whole puberty discussion is a little more complicated with girls. I mean, I can see that. But you know what? I have experience with everything we have and will have to talk about. Bras? I know bras. Periods? Yep, got that covered. I am lucky that the girls' dad has stayed very involved, but as a single mom, I gotta say, I'm so much more comfortable with what's coming my way, knowing that I won't have to google anything. 
  4. Bathroom cleanliness - The last time someone missed the toilet in my house? The last time a male lived in it. Same with tiny, scrappy hairs cemented to the sink bowl with toothpaste. Again for the new toilet paper roll laying on top of the old one. I still have to train them to take the bath mat out when they are done with their bath, put up their basket before they leave the bathroom and not leave wet towels on the floor, but comparatively? I've got it made.
  5. Tea parties - I'll admit it: I prefer Matchbox cars to Barbie dolls, Lego's to Polly Pocket and Transformers to Littlest Pet Shop. Of course, referring to point the second up there, I have all of those things in my home. But for my money, the best thing to get roped into playing with your kids is tea party. Give me a dress up hat, an impossibly small cup and a half a plastic chicken on a petite plate any day. I will even dress up the teddy for you. Watching your little one very carefully poor imaginary tea into a cup that is roughly the size of a thimble and ask you, "One lump or two?" is a precious thing you will never forget. 
What about it, moms? Are girls really all that terrible? Is this just a new and exciting version of sexism? Or have I been too hard on the boys?

*It should be noted that I am neither pink, nor ribbony, nor princessy.

Wednesday, June 5, 2013

Conversations with a Four Year Old

We were driving home, listening to A Wrinkle in Time on audiobook. This is one of my coping mechanisms for the Thunderdome that lives in my backseat.

Maren:  Mommy, please turn off the book.
Me: Why?
Maren: Because books give me a headache. I don't think I really like books much.
Me: You like your bedtime stories.
Maren: Because they are short. I don't like long books. At all. Books give me a headache.
Me: Well... Good luck with that.*

*I stopped myself from telling her she was in the wrong family. It's true, but she's so literal.
________________________________________________

After 15 minutes in her room, doing nothing but screaming that she couldn't do it by herself.

Me: Listen. You can. And you will. You are strong, capable and powerful. You can totally do this by yourself. You've done it before.
Maren: But I need help. I'm still wittle. You only help Brynna because she's the famous one and I'm not famous so I don't get any help at all.
Me: Nope. You've got this. And if you run into trouble, you can come get me and I'll help. Also, I'm not helping Brynna.
Maren: No. I can't. You've got to stay.
Me: No. You're going to do this and I'm going to go make supper. Your choices are to put your laundry away or go to bed.
Maren: I can't go to bed. I haven't had last meal.
Me: Sorry, Charlie. Laundry or Bed.
Maren: That's a terrible choice.
Me: Some choices are.
Maren: Fine. I'll do it. But I won't have any fun at all.
______________________________________________

10:11 p.m.

Maren: Mommy, I need to sleep with you. I had a nightmare.
Me: No you didn't. You haven't been to sleep yet.
Maren: How do you know?
Me: I could hear you playing in your bed. Also, I'm mommy. Mommy the wise and all-knowing.
Maren: Maybe I was sleep talking?
Me: Nope. I can tell the difference. Mommy the wise.
Maren: Okay. I haven't been to sleep. I'll just come get in bed with you.
Me: Nope. You know the rules. You have to go to sleep in your own bed.
Maren: I did.
Me: You just said you didn't.
Maren: Fine. I hope you catch my nightmares.
Me: Me too, baby.

Tuesday, June 4, 2013

Guilt Music

I'm going to attempt to do this memey thing called 30 Days of Song. I will not post this every day, because oh-my-pants-I'm-bored-already. Instead I'll post once or twice a week, as I feel like. So there. I am unrepentantly stealing this from Jen O. at My Tornado Alley. She rocks. I'm not sure if she stole it from somewhere, but here we go. 

Also, we are in the home stretch ya'll. We may finish this before I die.

A Song that Makes Me Feel Guilty

So, I understand the basic premise that music invokes emotion. I understand that guilt is really about emotion. What I don't really guilt is feeling guilty when you hear a song. I tried to think of a song that reminds me of something that makes me feel guilty, a song that was playing when I did something I regret, a song I feel guilty about liking... And... I've just got nothing. I mean, I feel guilt. Pretty much continuous guilt. I feel guilty about things that are my fault that happened 15 years ago, things that aren't my fault at all, things that sort of happened near me, things that I am a little bit at fault for, but so are some other people. I have guilt.

And I guess that there should be music for that guilt. But, I don't know. I guess silence is my guilt music. Both make me exceptionally uncomfortable. Another thing that makes me uncomfortable is funerals. Quiet funerals of people I felt guilty too would be sort of hell. Especially if they were crowded and there were mice. (I may be derailing here.) Therefore, a figured a song about stealing someone's ashes from their funeral would fit nicely here. Even if it doesn't make me feel guilty.



Day 1 - Your Favorite Song - White Blank Page
Day 2 - Your Least Favorite Song - Barbie Girl
Day 3 -  A Song that Makes You Happy - Birdhouse in Your Soul
Day 4 - A Song that Makes You Sad - Anna Begins
Day 5 - A Song that Reminds you of Someone - Friend of the Devil
Day 6 - A Song that Reminds you of Somewhere - Least Complicated
Day 7 - A Song that Reminds You of a Certain Event - Mrs. Potter's Lullaby
Day 8 - A Song that You Know All the Words To  - It's the End of the World as We Know It
Day 9 - A Song that You Can Dance to - Some Nights
Day 10 - A Song that Makes you Fall Asleep  - Ice Cream
Day 11 - A Song from your Favorite Band - Later On 
Day 12 - A Song from a band you Hate - Life is a Highway
Day 13 - A Song that is a Guilty Pleasure  - Loving You is the Dumbest Thing
Day 14 - A Song that No One Would Expect you to Love - Mean
Day 15 - A Song that Describes You - She Don't Want Nobody Near 
Day 16 - A Song that You Used to Love but Now Hate - Drops of Jupiter 
Day 17 - A Song that You Hear Often on the Radio - Little Talks
Day 18 - A Song that You Wish You Heard on the Radio - Grey Ghost 
Day 19 - A Song from your Favorite Album - Normal Like You 
Day 20 - A Song that You Listen to When You're Angry  - Not Ready to Make Nice
Day 21 - A Song that you Listen to when You're Happy - Tonight, Tonight 
Day 22 - A Song that you Listen to when You're Sad  - Angel Mine
Day 23 - A Song that you Want to Play at your Wedding - Friday I'm in Love
Day 24 - A Song that you Want to Play at your Funeral - Good
Day 25 - A Song that Makes you Laugh - Twisting
Day 26 - A Song that you Can Play on an Instrument - God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen
Day 27 - A Song that you Wish you Could Play - Wagon Wheel
Day 28 - A Song that Makes you Feel Guilty (today)
Day 29 - A Song from Your Childhood
Day 30 - Your Favorite Song at this Time Last Year

Monday, June 3, 2013

Addictive Personality

A couple of weekends ago, I watched the entire first season (13 episodes) of Hemlock Grove in one day. I was cleaning, so it's not like I was just stuck to my couch for 13 hours, but still...

Over the past week, I have watched the first two and a half seasons of Downton Abbey.

I have a problem.

I'm not sure why this problem has never resulted in chemical dependency, but thank heavens above for small favors.

The truth is that this is kinda how I do things.

Authors: I read a book I like. Halfway through, I will take to google and see what else he/she has written. At about the three quarter mark, I'll check the library for physical and e-editions of any/all of their previous books. I will follow them on Facebook. I will see if they have a blog. Goodreads. Tumblr. I will have read their entire bibliography in less than a year. I will decide to marry them.

Actors: I will see a movie I like. I will become obsessed with an actor/ress. I will IMDB them continuously. I will see what from their list is on Netflix. I will watch anything/everything I can find for free. I will check the DVD's at the library even though I know most of them are scratched and I am always mad when I check one out, plus I forget to take it back and end up owing the library almost as much in fines as just renting the stupid thing. I will decide to marry them.

Bloggers: I am not even going to tell you for how many bloggers I have read every entry in their archives. It's sort of embarrassing.

TV Shows: Well... there are many ways to skin a cat.

Most recently, Netflix is my enabler. Sometimes it is a holiday weekend marathon.

But, hello DVR. What the DVR has allowed me to do is essentially make EVERYTHING I WATCH into a marathon. Oh yes, there are a few shows I watch live or one at a time within a few days of being recorded, but mostly, I just let them build up and then watch a great big string of them at one. I have literally not watched a single episode of Defiance. Not one. I'm not even entirely sure I'm going to like it. I haven't watched Grimm since Christmas.

It's worrisome, really. Someone should stage an intervention. Just not until I finish the third season of Downton, okay?