Loving as best I can
I don’t have the words to tell you all how much it means to me when the Internet proves, once again, to be a place filled with kind and thoughtful and just plain NICE people. Yesterday I needed to let it all out, and I did; then my finger hovered over the “Publish” button as I wondered what backlash might be sent my way as a result. I published it anyway, and then wept grateful tears for most of the day as my inbox filled with lovely, compassionate comments. By the afternoon, I felt better. Lighter. Ready to keep going and keep knowing it will still be okay.
Thank you. I know it sounds corny, and I know we’re all more comfortable when I’m just calling you pretty and promising to send everyone a pony that poops glitter, but you are a gift, each and every one of you who takes the time to read and reach out. It means the world to me.
Yesterday afternoon, the doorbell rang. Now, I get various envelopes and packages almost every day, and yesterday I was 1) puffy-faced from crying and 2) still in my pajamas when the bell chimed and Licorice skittered across the entranceway barking like a lunatic. I decided I would just wait for the delivery guy to leave whatever it was, because I sure as heck wasn’t opening the door looking like that. read more…
Grief
While I would never characterize my life as simple or easy (HAAAAAA!), I have been incredibly lucky in one very specific way: I have not yet, as an adult, experienced the loss of someone to whom I was very close. So in some ways, I feel I’m something of a stranger to grief.
The closest I’d come until fairly recently was the grief of losing my first marriage, and my hopes/dreams/plans associated therein. It’s not the same, of course, but it followed a similar trajectory and kind of came out of nowhere to bite me on multiple occasions when I “should’ve” been well past mourning. The up side, there, is that time, therapy, and then a much healthier marriage have largely resolved my associated issues and pain. (Remind me to bake Otto some cookies. He is awfully swell.)
And now I’m struggling and grieving and I feel like I just don’t know how to do it, how to get through it, how not to throw down the rest of my life and stomp and cry “It’s not fair!” But nobody died, which means I have no “excuse” to use, so I keep living and writing and shopping for groceries and paying the bills and trying to pretend I am not grieving every day, every hour. read more…
Get. Off. My. LAWN.
Hi there, and thank you for visiting Woulda Coulda Shoulda! I can’t come to the blog right now, because I am either away from my desk or struggling against being rendered completely incoherent with rage. If you leave me a message, I’ll get back to you just as soon as I’m done weeping for my industry and humanity as a whole.
If you are experiencing an emergency, please hang up and dial 911. Otherwise, kindly get off my lawn unless you’d like to hear a story about how back in my day, people worked hard and ate real food.
Hmph.
Needlessly complicated
It occurs to me that I forgot to tell you about out little adventure here, last week.
I cannot even remember which television and Internet service we had originally, when we moved into this house, because I made Otto deal with it. I believe my exact words were, “Please make it go.” Because that’s how I roll; it doesn’t matter to me—as long as it works—whereas Otto is likely to actually do some research and take care of it, and that’s part of why I like having him around. So he set up whatever it was and it (mostly) worked and that was fine.
But then a few years back we got iPhones, which meant switching away from Verizon to AT&T, and that’s when we fell down the rabbit hole. AT&T assured us that now we could save lots of money if we bundled products with them! Why, we were already using them for home phone and cell phone service, why not use their partner TV service and get their Internet service, as well? We could save DOLLARS!
I like dollars. Specifically, I like saving them. Also, I enjoy paying only one bill for four different services, too, so Otto checked it all out and we signed up to be assimilated into the AT&T Borg. And that was (mostly) fine. read more…
Don’t worry; I’m a professional
You’ll have to forgive me for being a little bit giddy, today. My children are away. My husband is away. I’ve had the ENTIRE DAY to myself and I hardly knew what to do first. I ended up going “out for coffee” quickly… you know, for nearly three hours. Can’t do that when the family is around! And then I went to Goodwill, with all the other party animals. And finally, I’ve spent some serious quality time petting the dog, doing laundry, and catching up on America’s Next Top Model. (Spoiler alert! Jaslene won cycle 8! I had no idea. Even though they’re on… what… cycle 15?) (It’s like I just emerged from my cave, blinking into the sunlight.)
The point is, when my mind is idle like this, I really can’t be held responsible for my thoughts, you know. I’m pretty sure that’s a law.
Which is why it seemed like a perfect time to go poking around in my visitor logs, just so that I could bask in the narcissistic glow of my far-reaching wisdom. I mean, people are coming here for solutions to serious issues. And I never, ever let them down. Because I’m a giver that way.
Also, it’s going to be a while before I find out who won ANTM in cycle 9, and I needed a giggle in the meantime. read more…
Love happens in words, in moments
There are times when parenting is not the flowers-and-sunshine constant glow of awesomeness which I was sure it would be back when my kidlets were tiny and a bad day probably only meant that someone had barfed. (And a REALLY bad day meant they’d barfed ON ME.)
Two days into the new math class (and, coincidentally, MY increased homework load… hrm), I had to give Chickadee a pep talk about how it’s a lot easier to learn something new when you’re not busy having a massive freakout of epic IWILLNEVERLEARNTHIS OHMYGODWHATHAVEIDONEI’MSOSTUPID proportions while attempting to do so. And because she is every inch the super-appreciative nearly-teen you’d expect, my loving attempts to soothe her were met by… disdain, anger, and wailing and associated rending of garments.
Monkey, meanwhile, has essentially decided that it’s his way or the highway when it comes to schoolwork, and WOE BETIDE the teacher (or parent) who asks for more, because DON’T YOU KNOW HOW SMART HE IS ALREADY? (Oh, Asperger’s. You’re really kind of a snobby prick, sometimes.)
Point being: Not every day is an endless rainbow of joy. read more…
Anger-vu
Fall in the south is awesome. And by “awesome” I mean “nearly nonexistent, what with the summer temps well into October save for a few moderate days when we fling open every window in the house and scream ‘IT’S A BEAUTIFUL DAY, QUICK, BREATHE IN THAT TEMPERATE AIR!'”
As I slide into my third fourth (math is hard!) Fall here, I find myself experiencing so many of the same emotions I’ve had in the past few years: The giddiness at the first chilly morning; the urge to bake again, now that it’s cool enough; and the justification of “sampling” the cornbread I made for dinner just to, you know, make sure it’s okay.
And then, of course, as I peek into my crock pot, bubbling away with hot and hearty food, I inhale a mixture of spices and the breeze, and my gaze drifts out the window, and once again, there’s an overgrown rodent chomping on my deck. Apparently Fall is time to EAT MY HOUSE. And for me to become irrationally angry about it.
The next time I see him (I chased the offender away, slotted silicone spoon in hand in case I needed a weapon), I’m letting Licorice go after him. Maybe she can gum him to death, teaching squirrels everywhere a lesson in… um… NOT DOING THAT.
Smarticle*
I don’t know if you’ve maybe picked this up over the years, but we place a pretty big value on academic achievement, ’round these parts. Knowledge is power, and a big brain is a terrible thing to waste. Both children qualified for gifted education when we moved here (despite my bumbling) and yes, okay, according to their test scores, they’re freaks. Both of ’em. And I expect them to work hard and perform up to their potential.
But. I never want to be That Parent. I don’t want to be the parent who believes that Precious Snookums is the very smartest and bestest and better than everyone else. I don’t want to be the parent haranguing the schools (actually, I can’t say enough good things about the gifted curriculum here, anyway) because my precious snowflakes need something befitting their SPESHULNESS or whatever. And I MOST ESPECIALLY don’t want to be the parent who teaches her kids—purposefully or by implication—that the only thing that makes them special is being smart.
It’s possible that my baggage in this particular area would NOT fit under the seat in front of me, is what I’m saying. read more…
A wonderful and normal time
Hello! I am not dead. I was just doing non-computer-related things with our visitors all weekend, and it was lovely. Otto’s mom was like a kid in a candy store, just beaming at the kids and so excited to be here with us. Otto’s aunt quickly became Monkey’s new favorite person, and the rest of us sat back and chuckled as he brought various toys and items for her inspection and approval, and discussed many important issues of the day (“Do you believe in an afterlife?” he’d asked both our visitors at one point, out of the blue. “I don’t want to be dead forever, so I think there must be.”), and she, in turn, paid him unceasing attention and praised his every move.
Chickadee enjoyed the visit as well, I think, though she is sliding into teenagerhood in such a way that renders her conversations shorter, wedging them inbetween homework assignments and activities and times when she’d simply rather curl up on the couch and read a book.
We did a little sightseeing and a lot of eating and tons and tons of talking.
On the last night, Otto’s aunt turned to me and said, “I would never have guessed there’s anything wrong with Monkey. He’s delightful and he hasn’t had any problems at all!” read more…
Love is a long time comin’
Today I am running around, trying to do at least twelve things at once. There’s work to be done and errands to attend to and the dog wants to play (which, YAY, but also, kind of busy here, pup!) and despite their “help” I had to really clean the kids’ bathroom, today, just to preserve my own sanity.
This afternoon my mother-in-law and her sister (Otto’s aunt and godmother) are arriving for their first visit to our home in Georgia. For those of you who are new, or maybe just to refresh your memory, Otto’s mom was sick and unable to travel for far too long. After a prolonged and scary medical drama, last year she received a liver and kidney transplant, and now she’s on a plane, headed here.
It’s kind of a big deal. A huge deal, really.
Otto’s mom has never seen him in his home, with his family, doing all of the things that he normally does. And even though I wished for this day years ago, it’s hard to believe it’s finally arrived. She can spoil her grandkids. She can see her oldest child in his element. She can see the man I see.
Today is a very good day.
Happy Love Thursday, everyone.