Spaces

After posting the last blurb, I realized I hadn't posted for almost a month. This exercise in blogging was supposed to be therapeutic, so why is it that when things got tough I hid from it? I guess as much as I want to deal with my issues, it simply is easier to just bury them. So, since the last post, there was conferences for the girls- both went very well. Especially for Stella- her teachers just do not have enough nice words in their collective vocabulary to say about her. Good student, nice to all the kids, respectful of the teachers. Phew! I just hope she can get into Emma and get aid- so she can have the best chance at all the things I didn't. And a chance to excel at things that she will never get to do as long as I work like a dog and Daddyo doesn't drive. But we have a few years before we really need to think about Emma, and when the times comes, hopefully we will be ready. We also celebrated Claire's 5th birthday, which was a whole lotta fun. We had the whole family over- school night be damned- for pizza and ice cream cake. She had fun, and her gifts made her happy, so all in all it was a grand success.

Then came Thanksgiving. And that was a mess. The drama between L and E sort of came to a head- at least as far as the family in the middle was concerned. They still haven't spoke in about 8 months, but both sides filled the middle with drama about how were they supposed to enjoy the holiday with this animosity hovering over the table? So I told L to feel free to make her own plans, that I wouldn't hold it against her, and she said she'd think about it. Then I learn by way of face book, that she has decided, and invited a bunch of people to her house. That's fine- I mean I told her to, but could she not spare me the decency of a phone call or text to tell me what she had decided? I was still kind of hoping against hope that she would come, and that maybe all this bullshit could be laid to rest. But I understand the improbability of that happening, but I still wish it would just disappear.

So while I was busily feeling sorry for myself, and my ruined holiday, Stella gets of the bus telling me a much beloved member of the school died suddenly- AT SCHOOL- that morning. Not in front of kids or anything, but still. And he happens to be my boss's brother. Hello, perspective!! It really focused my attention on what REALLY matters, and helped me see that nothing was ruined, AND that the drama between them was between THEM and ultimately would result serious emotional problems, but that I was not responsible. Life happens all around us, and most of the time all we can do is try to roll with it. Rarely, it seems, is there anything we can actually do about the others in our lives. We might as well take the best it has to offer, and try to accept the bad, and hope that if we give the best we can, we will get something decent back. I can't control what other people do, but that won't stop me from running my mouth- sometimes inappropriately-- hoping that something I might someday say to someone makes a difference somewhere along the line. I just have to find a way to not internalize every one else's bullshit like the little sponge that I am.

Weird

So I was stalking on face book, when I came across the blog by the girlfriend of a very close friend. I knew she was self centered and vain, but this surprised me. She has some not very nice things to say about my friend, and I don't know if I should casually suggest he read her blog, or more blatantly show it to him. He is a very private person, and wouldn't want his business on the World Wide Web at all- hell, he doesn't even have a facebook account! But I think it would really hurt him to see this, and I kind of think they are on the outs anyway, so is there any point in making him feel bad? Let me just tell you, that I don't like her, and I never have. She has caused multitudes of problems within my circle of friends, for the last 25 plus years. The fact that my friend has been dating her for the last 4 years has been a bit of a problem for me. Frankly, he deserves better, and so do his children. She does not deserve someone like him. He's been telling me how she has changed after all these years, and that she's not the same person that caused so much turmoil. But I didn't see it. She seems to be the same as she ever was, just on her best behaviour around him- her best being my worst, at best. Now to read her blog? Yeah, I can safely say without a shadow of a doubt, that she hasn't changed. Or if she has, it's for the worse- if that was even possible. So to tell or not? I can tell I won't be sleeping again tonight :/

Promises, promises

Teacher Conference today for Sam... nothing Earth Shattering to report, same stuff as at home. "could be amazing, but is a little too impulsive" "would make a wonderful leader if he could show self control" "other kids look up to him ,but his cocky, know-it-all-ness turns them off" It's always the same at his conferences... he's so strong academically, but a bit behind socially. All his teachers have been quick to say that he is not alone in this: that it seems like the whole grade level is more immature that other classes. It helps me when I hear this, because it means it's not all on me. But it doesn't stop me from talking to the teacher like he was my therapist- telling him how Sam can be frustrating and beautiful all at the same time. That while I don't want to squeeze him into the box, that I need him to be able to conform to it, at least when the situation requires it. But all in all, his report card was better than ever, and as long as it keeps getting better I am a happy camper.

I think I was in need of some therapy because I dreamed about Madame and Darling. I seem to be doing that alot recently, and I'm really not sure why. This one was more of the twisting farm roads, familiar yet not taking me where I wanted to go. Then next thing I know, I am in their house, but hiding and she is yelling at him. He is sickly, but hugely fat and wheezing. She sees me and chases me down, hitting and slapping at me as she does. I slip away and make it to Grandpa- and he tells me how happy he is to see me and that he loves (!!) me. He's never said that before, and I am taken aback for a moment, and the shrew catches up to me. I take shelter behind his massive bulk, and he actually protects me from her. She slithers away, and he hugs me. I wake up lost and confused, but strangely peaceful. Does this mean he forgives me from the grave? Or that I have finally forgiven him? It's ironic in a way, that even in dreams she is the same as she ever was- but in dreams she is physically abusive to me, not emotionally. I wonder how much damage she really inflicted upon me. I try not to think about her very much at all because it is still painful. She's like a splinter. Or a blister. Hurts like a son of a bitch if you touch it just right, long after you thought you were healed.

Planting bulbs in the rain is likely all the therapy I'll ever get. It's good therapy too- planting, nurturing, helping things grow reminds me that life is a cycle, and that it does go on regardless of emotional baggage. And the saying that "to plant a garden, is to believe in tomorrow" is really quite poignant. It's grounding to work in the garden, and it serves to remind us that in the grand scope of the universe we are but fleas on the dog's belly.

I'll sleep when I'm dead

Today was one of those days that really makes me question why I do what I do. I'm not superhuman. Why can't I remember that? What makes me think that I can be everywhere, and be everything that every body needs me to do?? It seems like I constantly put my bodily needs second (or third or fourth!) to the needs of just about anyone else I know. In this case, I can't even blame it on anyone else. I forgot to get my car inspected... then I forgot again, and again for 4 months. I should have had it done in July- it's now November. AND I've been ticketed for this before-- you'd think I'd learned my lesson! So a co-worker informed me over the weekend that I had a head light out, and I knew I could put it off no longer. I was lucky, really, to have escaped detection so far anyway. But the only time this week I could have it done was today at 8am. 25 minutes away from my house. OK fine. I get up at 6 to get the kids ready for school, and the bus comes @ 6:53. But today, I also had to be in Claire's class as a parent helper from 9-10, and then the 2 younger kids had half a day, with bus around 11:30.

Now with gardening season winding precariously close to an end, and still quite a few bulbs to get in the ground, I need to be getting my hands dirty, pretty much every day. This is the last shot at getting ahead until next spring, and I somehow managed to not get any of the things done that I had earmarked the money for. So, basically. I had to garden today.And I had to work in hell, from 4 until midnight. So here I am, exhausted, but inspected and dirty. I guess I have no right to complain, it's just that I don't do well on 4 or 5 hours of sleep, and it makes it nearly impossible for me to deal with the trials and tribulations that occur in everyday life. I just don't have the patience, or the stamina, or the self control... whatever it is, I don't have it. It's kinda like being drunk- it really is. I can totally focus on the task at hand (probably over focus), but if anything jumps into my way, there's no doubt in my mind I'm going to hit it, and there's not a damn thing I can do to stop it. Today, it was Sam. He jumped in my way not once, but about 40,000 times. And I hate to yell, I really do, but OMFG please stop!! No matter how I tried to explain the error of his ways, and what he could do to make it better, that fresh lip just kept sticking itself up in front of me, begging for it. I suppose it shouldn't surprise me, but after the day I'd had, I felt like I was the only one entitled to misery. Apparently I was wrong. And if  I'd thought my day was bad, it was nothing compared to what it would become after an hour of trying to convince the little devil to just TRY to be a productive member of society, just for a LITTLE while. It all seems silly now, really, that I couldn't just walk away and be the bigger man. I really wanted to get my point across and to see some sort of epiphany in his eyes, some realization or revelation or whatever, and all of a sudden his behaviour would be that of a little angel. I realize, of course, that this is ridiculous, but again with the being drunk. So it ended up being a lose- lose situation, until Mike stepped in and said I should leave the kids with him while I went to garden- he would put them to work stacking wood. HALLELUJAH! I got over the guilt and went-- very late-- to my jobsite. By the time I got home, it was like a whole new world. Wood pile neatly stacked, and starting to amount to something resembling enough wood to last the winter, but best of all- Sam, the little angel. Not only had he stacked wood, he had CLEANED his room (the root of most of our arguments for the last several weeks!!). Now, his room isn't perfect, but he made a great, big, huge start on it. And he seemed to have a much better attitude about it- which is really all I want anyway.

Attitude is everything, I just don't see why the kids can't see it as clearly as I can. And even though I can see it, why can't I change it in myself or inspire them to change??? We are the only ones that can change our attitudes, and it takes much more will than I have on a day like today. But it won't stop me from trying again, and hopefully it won't stop the kids either.

Cookies

So I realized this morning while making lunches, that I had nothing for desert. Cold, dark, dreary November day- perfect for making cookies. I opted for chocolate- chocolate chip oatmeal cookies, thinking that the little bit of protein added by the oatmeal would be a good thing, and help me pack some in lunches without feeling guilty. Now this is a about a 180 degree turn from the Halloween cookies I made 10 days ago, which were almond flavoured sugar roll outs, with icing. Sugar. And lots of it. And exceptionally tasty, thanks to the brainstorm of swapping almond extract for vanilla and the usage of a new icing recipe. Yum and yum. Baking has always been my strong suit, and my favourite type of cooking. Period. I used to bake all the time- to the point of baking all the bread we consumed, plus cakes and frosting from scratch, souffles, bagels, donuts, cinnamon rolls, pizza and multitudes of cookie variants. But then I had kids, and a full time job plus a part time job, and I got to the point where I made cookies in the winter, birthday cakes and cupcakes, and maybe cinnamon rolls on Christmas. The only thing I really still make with regularity is pizza. And that? I really only make the dough and Mikey makes and bakes the actual pie. But the crust is freakin' awesome, if I do say so myself.

Anyway, when the kids got home from school Stella was soooo excited that I made cookies! "You NEVER make cookies. These cookies are soooo good. You should make cookies more often". I had to remind her that in the 7 years she's been in school that at least half of the time, she's brought cookies I made in her lunch box, AND that I had just made cookies less than 2 weeks before. Didn't she remember? The kids cut them out and frosted them (and the chair, table, THEMSELVES!)? Oh yeah, Right. Meanwhile, I had explained that I used 2 types of chocolate in them. So I hand Claire a cookie. She takes a bite, and then says "MMMMMMM!!!" Another bite. Then she asks for the other kind of cookie. I tell her there is one kind of cookie, but again that I used 2 kinds of chocolate. She asks for milk, finishes the cookie and then asks for another cookie, but with the other chocolate. I tried again,. I showed her the cookies- and that there was only one kind. She wasn't having it. She did eventually take a second cookie, but I think she really thought I was hiding the other cookies from her.

All this really just reminded me that before I spent 60 hours a week working, that I used to have time for enjoyable and useful pursuits like baking. If only these kids didn't need to eat, I could work less and have time to bake yummy things to eat. {{sigh}}

Mission Statement

So basically this is going to be therapeutic, right? I'm also hoping for a chance to chronicle my journey on this fine planet. The Land of Lullabies. The Land of Milk and Honey. The place where it all happens, or the place where none of it happens. Depends on the day. Depends on the traveler. It's been years since I've written anything, other than notes to teachers, and I'm hoping that that is about to change. I used to be pretty good at it, at least in theory. But life came in and took over, and pushed "me" into the corner. Who knows if I'll ever get out of the corner, but at least here I can tell you about the journey through my days, and hopefully share a laugh. Most of my life is pretty comical, if you actually stop and look at it. Not sure it's in a good way, but I gotta learn to go with it. Write it down, let it go...

So this song is the inspiration for the title of the blog: and it fits my outlook pretty well, at least when I do actually take the rose coloured glasses off...

Days Between

There were days, and there were days
And there were days between
Summer flies and August dies
The world grows dark and mean
Comes the shimmer of the moon
On black infested trees
The singing man is at his song
The holy on their knees
The reckless are out wrecking
The timid plead their pleas
No one knows much more of this
Than anyone can see
Anyone can see

There were days, and there were days
And there were days besides
When phantom ships with phantom sails
Set to sea on phantom tides
Comes the lightning of the sun
On bright unfocused eyes
The blue of yet another day
A springtime wet with sighs
A hopeful candle lingers
In the land of lullabies
Where headless horsemen vanish
With wild and lonely cries
Lonely cries

There were days, and there were days
And there were days I know
When all we ever wanted
Was to learn and love and grow
Once we grew into our shoes
We told them where to go
Walked halfway around the world
On promise of the glow
Stood upon a mountain top
Walked barefoot in the snow
Gave the best we had to give
How much we'll never know
We'll never know

There were days, and there were days
And there were days between
Polished like a golden bowl
The finest ever seen
Hearts of Summer held in trust
Still tender young and green
Left on shelves collecting dust
Not knowing what they mean
Valentines of flesh and blood
As soft as velveteen
Hoping love would not forsake
The days that lie between
Lie between