Let's Talk about Relationships

Actually, let's not. I like romance. I like.....affection. I don't like talking about relationships. It's weird. It's uncomfortable. It's scary. It's (dare I say it?) unnecessary.

My husband is different than me. My husband contemplates relationships. Ours, the kids, even his step-kids. He thinks about people in a way that really puts self-centered me to shame.

So as one of my Christmas gifts to him, I have decided we will do the 30-Day Relationship Challenge!  I have had this on my Pinterest board, "Relationships, Ikes!" for a long time.  Now, I can hear my sweet-natured man groaning, because now I have taken something he likes and I don't know, made it a "thing". How fun will this be?

Stay tuned!

This darned blog

I can't figure out how to get the title inside the wreath. In photoshop, it wouldn't work, nor could I manage to change the font to the one I downloaded. Grr.
However, I do still like the clean look of it.

Just sitting around

Because Liam woke up at two. After Karl, who had fallen asleep in the family room, sent him back upstairs, I checked the clock and saw it was about two, and sent him back to bed. He continued to keep coming in a few more times, although now I think he is back in his room looking at books. Or maybe sleeping by now.

I am stressed.

First, this Lassie thing. I haven't received any sort of contract or paper to sign. I cannot continue to keep showing up without that. The sponsor said maybe the money just wasn't there. Fine, but shouldn't someone let me know so I don't continue to keep coming? And honestly, I don't think I am what they need anyway. They need someone who as experience with it or something similar to help out. I think they are hoping to get someone from the college or something. Again, fine, but um, let me know.
Anyway I emailed the assistant principal, because while it would be fun to get to know the girls, I need some pay, don't feel like I am much help, anyway, and there is all this drama involved (from grownups!) which I don't feel equipped to deal with. I am not socially sophisticated enough for such drama. I just wanted to help out when I was asked.
At the same time, it will sort of hurt my feelings if I am not needed, and it will tick me off if there isn't money, after putting in a month of time.

Anyway. Being home more would be nice, too. I had bad dreams. I had to figure out where to hide the dead bodies before we moved and some people came in or something. Now I don't know how they "got dead." All I know is my mom was one, and there was another, but I am not sure who. And I didn't want to get in trouble. I was so relieved to wake up from that and remember, "Oh right, I didn't kill anyone."

I feel pretty unsure of my next steps in life. I feel torn. It's the same old, same old. Not who I am supposed to be, not sure I want to make the sacrifices to be that person.

Tired.

If I hear one more darned thing about Starbucks cups I am going to scream. My facebook feed just keeps blowing up with people complaining about people complaining. I haven't witnessed anyone complaining. I am sure some are, but who cares? Why is Starbucks getting all this free publicity. Oh yeah, because we are all sheeple. I am also sick of the social issues people keep bringing up on Facebook. I just want to know what is up in people's lives, see their cute kid pics, talk about my life a bit, and move on. I don't need reeducation by the politically correct or non-politically correct. Just lighten up people!

I suppose I should go try and get another hour or two of sleep.

November

I used to dread November. The greyness, the brown. But I love it now. November is a changing. The brilliant, showy colors of fall, slowly fade to quietness. The last phase of youth in a lively middle-aged woman fading away into strength and comfort. Not yet in winter's delicate grasp, but more than beauty now. Stability, tradition. Maybe not pretty, anymore, but beautiful on the inside. Seasoned, dare I say. I like November.

Today promises to be busy. I am not sure I like  busy, but it's here for today. I am to march with the Lassies and the sponsor in a parade, and I am extremely worried about my poor feet. Hopefully, I can manage it. Then I will come home to prepare for a chilly hot dog cookout at a retired coworker's home. I need to pick up a side dish. I didn't plan well enough ahead to make anything.

Karl works until one; the cookout is at two.

Hopefully tonight will be peaceful, and I will be able to rest my feet!

I am not sure what I want to do with the night.

Liam got in trouble on the bus yesterday, so we have decided Pokemon and Minecraft are out until he can behave for two months. Only nonviolent, educational stuff. And Karl wants him off of Youtube, unless we are in the room monitoring it. I don't suppose it will hurt him to have less video-watching time. The kid needs to play. Kids don't run and play. I guess we all gravitate to what is easiest and passive watching is easy. Right now, Liam is going on about getting two fans and water buckets and making a homemade tornado. Who knows?

Well. I guess I Gabe will be down any minute. My dad is coming to watch the boys, so I can do the parade. It should be fun. I guess the hard part for me is not knowing what to do. I am not sure what role to fill. Should I say what I think, or am I just to provide adult supervision for when the sponsor needs a break? I guess I should just do what I think is best in the moment instead of thinking about it so much. Not really my style, though. I do have trouble breaking out of my head sometimes.



Enjoy your weekend!

Cold October

October 3

Let's see what I can remember now.

It was 14 days past his due date-the longest I was "allowed" to go with the Midwifery program at Malcolm Grow Hospital, which I think was on Andrews AFB. We dropped Tierney off with some friends, and went in for the induction. They started the pitocin around ten. Naturally I was determined to go without pain relief, but by early afternoon I was done. I think I was starting to go into transition when the handsome red-haired anesthesiologist came in. I was naked and uncaring, which struck me as funny, because I am modest. I was having double and sometimes triple peaking contractions, hot and cold. I should have held off, but that is hindsight. It was around three when I got the epidural. I bit my ex-husband a couple times. I wanted to jump out the window, I was in so much pain, but we were on the first floor. My ex was infatuated with a girl named "Brittany" he'd met on the computer, so he wasn't a lot of comfort for me, but at least he was a familiar face, and you know, the dad, hahah. It's all good, now.

Caleb's heart rate started to drop, and the midwife got nervous. I think she called in the doctor to supervise. I tried different positions, and finally, they used the vacuum suction thing (sorry, this is an OLD memory) to get him out quicker. I remember saying, "He is so little!" and everyone laughing.
He was nearly ten pounds of sweetness. He was born at four or four-thirty. He had to go back to the hospital a few days later for jaundice treatment. It was so cold then. They were remodeling the pediatrics floor and one side was open or something and a cold spell hit. But his room was warm.
Memories are so dim now. Just a smell, a warmth, a rush of cool air. Nursing a new, sweet baby. Love. Tierney's jealousy.

Autumn. That's Caleb.

Rumbling Thunder and a Good Morning Yawn

It's Sunday morning. Karl and I talked about going to church. In fact, church and Sunday football are why we struggled so hard to get his schedule changed. Now he is off on Sunday, and I haven't gone yet.
We are both so bashful in such situations. Karl feels insecure about his station in life, but the only way he is going to rise up, is to fake it, look people in the eye and keep working towards what he wants. I don't know what my inner motivation is or isn't. Maybe it's the same, although I don't mind eye contact. Shaking hands is a problem. I have been neglecting my sweat treatments, and you know that moment when they make you stand and introduce yourself? Well, I feel pretty awkward insisting on a fist bump instead. I did a quick treatment this morning-I'll have this cup of coffee and see if it has an effect. If no sweat, then we will pull it together and go somewhere. If I sweat, then we will just have to wait until next week. Do you guys see what I go through? Before the sweat treatment, the anxiety over the sweating! It made me sweat more.
So happy I found it. Really. If you have a perfect body that doesn't do weird things, you might not imagine, but I don't. I am a lactose-intolerant, hands and feet sweating mess!

Anyway, we will see how that goes. The preschool's traditional service, which Karl prefers (he doesn't want any of that contemporary music stuff-he's so funny), is at 8:30, which I don't see happening at this point today. So we will go elsewhere or nowhere. That's another part of our issue. Denomination. We are both wobbly on our belief systems, so finding a fit will be interesting.

Same old stuff. I guess. It's fun to think about for me, though.

Karl doesn't want another baby! I can't imagine why. Well, he has two sons, but I just see this daughterless future stretching ahead of me, and I don't like it. I mean, of course I still have daughters, but Taryn is gone a lot and at a sulky age, and Tierney doesn't live here. Boys are nice, but they are not the same. I am not saying we won't have great times, but it isn't the same. We really can't afford another kid in daycare anyway, and technically it isn't the last time we could try, but as a teacher I think May is the best time for birth, and while I said last night, today is technically the very last day it could happen for that. I haven't been charting temperatures or anything, so I am not certain. It's not worth that much effort. I do have five kids. But I don't want a baby with someone who doesn't want one. That just sounds like a recipe for disaster. I know how helpless I felt when I got pregnant with Gabe, and how upset I was with Karl for not doing his expected part to prevent Gabe (fyi, this method has worked for me for 25 years so long as the man did his part). Of course there was the nearly five year dry spell between J and Karl. Blech. J. I mean yeah, he was a nice enough guy, but as comfortable as old pair of sweatsocks. Disappointing. We were never a couple. I wanted that, sort of, but I also knew we were just all wrong. The sweatsock thing. I don't regret the dry spell. I mean I could have found men, but I just don't like casual relationships. I am a very serious person. I think that was most surprising following my divorce.

When you are married, men are sweet and you feel like they are watching out for you (even if they really aren't. Perception). When you are not, men are out to have some fun, regardless of your tender heart (Again, how I perceived it). And the sweet ones are usually trying too hard and turning you off, and it's so hard to find just that right balance. Then I met Karl and his crazy mess, and he liked me, but was unsure about me (he though I was crazy, I knew he was a bucket of...complications). And I liked him, but he could still get younger, freer girls (at least for the night), and was unsure. He said it was all my books and the fact that I called him out when he was wrong. I just don't like inconsistencies. Glad it worked. Shrug.

So no baby for me. I kind of felt like I packed that away when Gabe was born. He was my sweet little surprise, but baby fever hits hard, and who doesn't want another person in their family to love? Other women seem happy with their choice, but surely they get baby fever, too. Maybe they are just strong-willed enough to remain secure in their decision. Regardless of what those tests say, I definitely go with my heart.

I do think about fostering and then adopting one or a small sibling group, but I think it would be even harder to get Karl on board that. Plus I heard that it's boys who have the most trouble finding homes, and of course, I would like to raise a little girl, so I feel guilty about all those boys who won't get forever families. Maybe boy/girl siblings. But, I have no idea how it works, or if I could afford it, I mean if I can't afford daycare for a baby, can I pay for adoption? Do you have to pay for adoption for foster kids? Also, there would be counseling costs, I imagine. I mean, you don't lose your birth family forever without there being scars. Things to think about.
It's kind of embarrassing and classically female, and some part of me yells, "Weak!", this desire to nurture small things. I don't want to be one of those people who live through their dogs. I mean, pets are great, don't get me wrong, but they aren't people.
What am I missing? This ache just sits here.

I wish daycares paid a living wage. I would work with the babies. I could try a home daycare, but I think I would get lonely without other adults around, and the money isn't stable.

Well. I have been stagnating for years, but there is something more for me to do. I believe this. I just don't know what it is.

I do love my older kids and my boys. I just want...more.

Happy Sunday! September 13th, right?:o) We will see. Karl gets so worked up, we often just have to turn the game off because my sensitive soul (I am, I swear), can't handle the red-faced string of obscenities coming from my husband.

Lately

Apparently Liam doesn't have all his shots for Kindergarten. They had sent me a paper, but I thought the central office just hadn't sent it along, and he had them all. I mean he has had a lot. It's ridiculous, but I guess they want him to have more. So I am going to take the morning off and hopefully, we will be able to get that taken care of today.

I haven't been getting enough sleep with Gabe having trouble falling asleep in his room lately. And of course, he won't stay in his bed.

It's just that time of year when I wish I could homeschool and stay home with my kids, and everything is just so different than what I thought it was going to be.

We just don't make enough money for me to stay home. And I know it's sexist and immature, but it makes me feel less valuable as a woman that I have to work, and can't stay with my little ones. I can't explain it, really. And my job. Sigh. Any attempts to make it more meaningful have been rebuffed, so I guess I will just put on my upbeat, silly Jill face (do people really buy that?), and go on with life.

I guess I am not that good at staying home. I don't interact enough when I do that, and I withdraw with shyness. That's not good for me or the boys.

Tierney and Jake are struggling. They are raising their rent again, to a point where they don't think they can pay the bills. I want to help them, but what can I do? I offered to pay her to drive the kids to and from school, but it probably wouldn't be enough, and she has to sleep sometime. So I got a thanks, but no thanks, on that:o).

Karl and I are talking about going to church. Again. The truth is, we are both shy. Karl wants a traditional service, which doesn't make sense, because I think he is agnostic. I just want to not be annoyed. I think it's good for the kids, though to have had faith in something bigger than themselves.

I think I am just a bit depressed. I suppose it will pass. Things are flavorless now, but something will come along. Maybe I will start reading again.