Backyard metaphors
Hey, how about we don’t talk about that thing. Or that other thing, either. Okay! Great!
I’ve been spending a lot of time with my vegetables. Quality time, you understand. I pull grass up out of the boxes a blade or two at a time and marvel at the plants that flourish seemingly in spite of me and try to coax the puny ones back to vigor. It’s very soothing.
In the meantime, I can’t help but notice how beautiful our big oak out back looks when reflected in the swampy murk that is currently the pool:
If I were a deeper person I’d probably make a comment about seeing beauty even in what’s broken, but because I’m not, I’ll just say that allegedly the pool guys are coming tomorrow. We’ll see.
Food, pain-in-the-ass foooooood
If you’ve been around here for any length of time, you know that food and I enjoy a close, fulfilling relationship. Other than that whole gluten thing, food has generally been good to me (maybe a little TOO good to my thighs, but it means well) and I love to eat. I eat just about everything. Food good! Food delicious! I very much like food!
(I’m not sure how or why I turned into a bizarre cross between Cookie Monster and the Hulk just then. Forgive me.)
Having a kid who has a complicated relationship with food has been one of those things where my internal How To Handle It computer simply returns a “COPING METHOD NOT FOUND,” 404 Error style. Because it’s FOOD. And food is DELICIOUS. Also COMFORTING and did I mention DELICIOUS and also what do you MEAN you’re not hungry? I am not innately programmed to deal with this. I don’t know if anyone is. You can like food, love to cook food, like to bake, enjoy feeding your family, and BAM! Here comes life, and its various fangs and claws, and hey, howzabout you figure out how to get this kid to gain 15 pounds like, right now?
Life is kind of a demanding asshole. read more…
Still bumbling through it
You know what’s weird? This coming weekend will mark Otto’s and my 6th year wedding anniversary. Married for six years! And still speaking to each other! And also making out occasionally (you know, when there’s nothing good on television)!
This makes me an expert on all things remarriage and such, of course. Except not. At all.
Naturally this means that I have a new post up over at Alpha Mom, all about the secret to successfully blending a family. My advice is worth exactly what it costs you! (I hope you’ll come check it out, anyway.)
Indignations
Remember when Georgia was in a drought? And whenever it rained, people all but danced in the streets? Good times, man. Good times.
Er, technically we are still in a drought. I don’t know who decides this or how they determine that we are no longer… ummm… drought-y, but TECHNICALLY we are still in a drought. Even though it’s been raining for upwards of a month, now. (It has not really been raining for a month. I mean, it has, but not continually. It just feels that way.) (Are you there, God? It’s me, Mir. I would like my hair to stop being the size and style of a full-grown poodle perched atop my head, now, please.)
Anyway. Clearly I do not want us to still be in a drought. But the constant rain is making EVERYONE cranky. It’s gray and cold and damp and gross outside. It was spring for a single, pollen-infused week and then it was summer for two days, and it’s been Whoops Are You Sure You Didn’t Accidentally Move To Seattle ever since. It’s unnerving for those of us who were primed to be bitching about how hot it is, by now. It is too cold and disgusting out for people to bless your heart, people! This is a true southern CRISIS. read more…
How to gross out a teenager (or two)
I’m coming to a place where I believe the teenage brain may indeed be so hormone-addled that basic connections of common sense and cause-and-effect are suspended until further notice. MRI imagining would reveal that teen brains light up when shown caramel brownies, but those same brains can look at unfinished homework and angry teachers and ask what’s on television, and also, hey, are any of those brownies left?
You would think that having once BEEN a teenager would allow a parent to better understand this phase, but you would be wrong. I can’t follow their logic, no matter how hard I try. And for some odd reason, calmly asking one of them if maybe, just maybe, they’ve suffered brain damage since you last conversed is not seen as nurturing or helpful.
I’m not sure they even understand each other, unless “understanding how to piss each other off” is a manifestation of said understanding. And I used to think that was just a sibling thing, but now I’m hearing about it amongst supposed friends, so I don’t know. Basically they’re all playing from a secret rulebook that changes constantly, but we’re the stupid ones for not knowing the rules. read more…
In which I admit…
… that that STOOPID parenting CD I had to listen to may have actually had a couple of good ideas.
New post over at Alpha Mom, about getting teens to cooperate. (Now that I’ve written it, of course, everything is going to blow up in my face. That’s how it works!)
Because, that’s why
“I’ll take Mir and Otto’s Adventures in Home Ownership for $200, Alex.”
“And the answer is: No.”
“I’m… sorry? That’s the whole answer?”
“Yes. The answer is No.”
“Okay. Um… what is Can we ever do a single, simple project around here without it turning into a complete clusterfuck?”
“Correct! On the board!”
“Yeah, screw you, Alex. Screw you AND your stupid board.”
So, um, I’ve decided to believe that the universe decided I really needed a distraction right about now. It’s a gift, really. The gift of dumbfuckery, right here in our yard. WE ARE SO LUCKY, because trust me, it’s been a distraction. Yay? read more…
Just what I didn’t know I needed
So, uh, this week has kind of sucked. [Sidebar: Thank you for the kind words and thoughts and emails after that last post. I consider myself very lucky to have so many kind folks out there in the Intertubes giving a damn about us, and on low days like that one, it helps more than you know.] When things sucks, I like to go full hermit. I don’t want to talk to you, I don’t want to see you, I don’t want to do anything but curl up and maybe talk to Otto a little bit and hug my kids. That’s just how I am.
Lucky for me, my dance card usually isn’t full, so if I hit a time like this when I want to hide, it’s not hard to do. (Hooray for maladaptive coping!) But this week as things started crashing down around me, I looked at my calendar and realized that one of my oldest friends was coming to town. And my first inclination, quite honestly, was to call her up and cancel. Because STUFF, man, and THINGS and HARD and WAHWAH and I am an iiiiiiiiiislaaaaaaand!
Last year, I probably would’ve canceled. I would’ve apologized, profusely, and I would’ve felt like a shitty friend, and I would’ve gone back to hiding (now with extra self-flagellation) and that would’ve been it. But I have GROWN AS A PERSON (haaaaaa) and so I didn’t cancel. read more…
Masks and making sense of the world
I listened to a parenting seminar on CD this morning. My daughter’s therapist gave it to me, and the looong preface that came with this particular loan rivaled even my wordiest attempts to clarify my experience. It was not a criticism, she said. She just really likes this particular guy and his theories and she thinks I might find some of what he has to say helpful. Maybe not. But worth a shot, yes? And she is worried that my current model of being is “not sustainable.”
That part made me laugh, actually. As if I am not aware that my current model of being is not sustainable. People who are drowning don’t think that they’re swimming and suddenly the whole dying thing is a surprise.
Among other things, ample time was given in this presentation to that whole “put on your own oxygen mask” metaphor, and lord knows I have tried to get with this program in the past, but mostly it makes me want to punch people, because when you’re at the point where people make worried eyebrows and start talking about oxygen masks, there are no cheerful yellow masks falling from the ceiling to save you. read more…
Oh, look! Something shiny (and yummy)
This week seems determined to flatten me and suck out my will to live, and it’s only Tuesday. This does not bode well, I’m thinking.
While I go try to find my mojo (have you seen it? I think I dropped it somewhere yesterday), feel free to head on over to Alpha Mom to read all about how we carnivores found mealtime happiness with the rogue vegetarian in the house. Not gonna lie; it helps that said vegetarian is very cute.