One of the real perks for being with the GuyFriend is that he forces me to slow down sometimes. I tend to have twenty-plus irons in the fire at all times and rarely feel like I can take a breath, let alone a day off to do nothing. My to-do list isn’t getting any shorter that way, y’know.
But it’s amazing to me how great it is for my body and soul to just not worry about that list for a little while. We got home late Sunday afternoon from a three-day trip to Waldo Lake in central Oregon, a respite I needed.
It wasn’t until this weekend that I realized just how much sitting at a desk all day is impairing my healing from the rear-ending accidents. Despite walking for nearly 7 miles on Saturday, my neck didn’t hurt (though I’ll admit to a slight back ache). Even on Sunday, after two nights on the cold, hard ground, my neck could still move without pain. The two stiff bands of muscles that have failed to stop seizing for months, relaxed. There was none of the non-stop ache I’ve come to expect. There were no painful headaches that are a nearly-daily occurrence during the work-week.
I wanted to stay out there longer, avoid going back to the tasks that make me hurt, ache and rely on pain meds. But here I am, back at a keyboard and already my shoulders have tightened, the right side of my neck is aching and the headache is back. Luckily, I have pictures to remind me of the peace that comes with leaving a to-do list at home.
I mentioned the long-lasting effects of divorce, then got this in the mail. It’s the child support balance after nearly thirteen years.
I guess I can be slightly relieved that his child support debt is bigger than my school loans debt. And no children went hungry because of mine.
Those school loans were, in fact, what fed and housed the kids while I got that degree. And while the degree hasn’t helped at all in the income level, at least the kids and I are smarter because of it.
And if he won the lottery and finally paid up, maybe our kids could avoid that awful student loan debt. I know the college sophomore son would appreciate it.
I’ve been working diligently on the second draft of the memoir project for months now, finally getting a grip on what I want it to do, how I want my story to come across. It’s an awful lot of work, let me tell you.
This revamp of Chapter One has taken me weeks. I re-wrote it entirely, then again, thanks to the feedback from my writers’ critique group, the Zeitgeist Writers’ League.
They wanted me to explore how I got to the point of being a single mom traveling with kids. Where’s the divorce? the desperation?I’d hidden it and even as I edit this version, I still finding myself hiding behind the details unwilling to admit just how hurt I was.
Maybe it’s how hurt I still am. Writing about finding the photograph of my husband with his teenage girlfriend is gut-wrenching, and I don’t mean that nonchalantly. My stomach feels like its been turned into a Celtic knot as I struggle to put into words the feeling of that afternoon when I had the first inkling that the marriage I’d thought was just suffering through normal lack of intimacy, was actually falling apart. I find myself nauseated and I have to stop writing and thinking. I stop to get a hug from the GuyFriend or go spend a few moments basking in the glory that is my now-teen daughter.
The everyday pain of having the family I’d planned dissolve like that is long gone, but there’s a part of me that still feels the stinging slice of dishonesty, abandonment and loneliness.
But I am so very tired of hurting all the time.
They say time flies, but sometimes in life it slogs along in slow motion. That’s what it seems like right now, except for this: my kids aren’t so childlike anymore.
My son just finished his freshman year of college; my daughter will be in high school this fall. And in circle-of-life style, she will be attending with several of her kindergarten classmates–people she hasn’t seen in more than eight years.
The years between have changed us all.
After more than a couple submissions, one was finally accepted and I can add Hip Mama to my list of publications.
I was the filling of a three-car pile-up on I-5. In my dad’s newly repairs red truck. The same one I was driving in November when I got hit.
Spending this (finally!) sunny afternoon with an ice pack and pain meds.
It’s nice when there are things to be happy about.
Happy 63rd, Dad!
I got to celebrate my dad’s 63rd birthday with both my parents, my daughter, my sister and her kids. I know an awful lot of people my age who have lost one or both of their parents, so it makes events like these even more precious. Plus Nate and Samantha both got to be there, not in the hospital like they have been so often lately.
Second thing? The GuyFriend and I are patching things up, making amends and trying to craft what was actually a very good thing when it worked into something even better. The daughter and I have been moving our stuff into his place (which he kindly shifted around for us) this past week and so far, so good. I know there will be rough patches, but in all honesty, I think it’s good for all of us.
And last, I found out that my WordPress-hosted blog that I started this on was still active and therefore I hadn’t lost all my posts as I’d thought. Triple Whoop just for that one.
Life is crazy with work and sewing and kid and living. But I like it.
So it’s been what, five years since I went gluten-free? I have to alway compare it when we returned from Vietnam, so I guess it is more like 4 1/2 years. A while. There aren’t many times when I really feel like This sucks! except when I can smell fresh, homemade bread. And then I want to sit down and cry for a while knowing that I will never have that again.
But there’s hope and I keep trying out bread after (fake) bread, hoping to find something that tastes remotely similar. I have found that I really like Udi’sfor sandwiches, still a rare treat at something close to $5/loaf. And then there’s the Gluten Free Pantry mix that is fairly close to the real deal according to my daughter (who can still comparison taste, unlike me).
But I’d love to find a way to make it at home because, well, that’s how I am. As has been pointed out, if there is a more time-consuming way to do something, that’s what I’ll do. shrug So I’m going to try out this recipe that I found via one of my favorite fabric designers, Daisy Janie (organics, whoop!).