Subtle Glow

I’ve seen the writing prompts where you’re supposed to go back in time and talk to your younger self and share one piece of advice that will be important for you to know between the Then-you and the Now-you.

Not to pick on Mel, but this entry made me chuckle as thought back to when I made the switch, and I realized exactly what I would tell my then-self:

Do not wait until you have finished your degree (for which you took classes online - at night after you put the baby to bed) to go ahead and allow yourself the splurge of getting cable internet.

Listen to me:  Get that shit NOW - because it isn’t worth the cursing violently at 2am when you’re dial-up has disconnected for the fifth time while you try (again) to upload your assignments for the week.  It’s not worth the flinging heavy objects off the desk and stifling the roars of frustration before you finally decide “Fuck this” and go ahead and open the wine - Zoloft be damned.  Seriously.

Some people think about their time in college and kegger parties and frat boys come to mind.  For me, it was that damned dial-up internet I stuck with for far too long.  Ok, I would by lying if I said I didn’t go to any parties.  There were plenty of keg parties, but they were more often attended by the local surfers (which incidentally were also kind of like the jocks, considering they were on the surfing team) because we didn’t have full-fledged frat boys in high school.

We carved pumpkins and we liked it. You can see a sampling of our fun below, or click here for the whole set.
Observe:

Eventually we got most of the guts out (blech):

I finished my pumpkin:

Kiddo went with his own design:

We lit them:

And waited for it to get dark:

We did a test run for Kiddo’s costume. In prior years, we found that he is not a fan of the mask. This year, we found that he is not a fan of the face paint, either.

I brought lunch to work today, as it was going to be one of those “meeting intensive” days (for example, meetings from 10 - 12 and then 2-2:30, 3-4, and an optional meeting from 4-5 and guess who’s opting OUT of that one??).

I had to run an errand at lunch (as in PAYCHECK! DEPOSIT! WOOT!) and figured since I brought lunch I would pop in to Starbucks and grab a little treat to go with my lunchbox fare. Pumpkin Spice latte… not bad. I think I should have asked if they had any toffee nut, but whatever.

I have one of those Duetto cards - which doubles as a starbucks card AND a visa. I told the girl when I paid I wanted it run as a Starbucks card… I had cash on me, and seriously - I don’t want a $3.95 charge on my visa. She swipes the card, pulls out the receipt, stares at it and then hands it over to me with a big smile and a thank you.

I checked the receipt as I walked over to grab my drink and sure enough… she ran it through as a Visa charge.

So, you know what I did?

Nothing.

At worst it was only slightly annoying. There’s no balance on the Visa, and I’m paying it off as soon as it’s due, so I won’t incur interest or anything. Still, I have over $20 in the starbucks part of the account… I don’t go every day, so it would have been nice to just use that.

I’m sure I could have politely explained the mistake and they could have reversed it and fixed it. I guess I just didn’t want to be a pain in the ass for anyone.

Obviously, this is a trivial example to something I find myself doing at times. Do you ever find yourself just accepting something that inconveniences you (or worse) because you’d rather seem agreeable than ask for what you want/need/etc.?

Why do we do this? Is it conditioning? Is it some need for approval (even from strangers? even when it costs us?)?

For me it’s some of both of those things, as well as a healthy dose of I don’t have time or if I have time I don’t have enough interest in dealing with this kind of crap so let’s just take it and move on.

I have no solid point here, much less a conclusion. I’m not even bothered by the stupid visa charge vs starbucks thing… I laugh about it, because to me it’s the same as writing a check for fifteen cents so the effing cable company who can’t figure out how to transfer balances properly will stop sending you collection notices. Not that it happened to me - I’ve just heard, is all.

Totally different topic: I am going to post those damn pumpkin pictures. I am! I’m doing it today. Dammit. Heh. Because seriously - drinking espresso at 1pm when I haven’t had coffee in months… I’m so going to need something to do while I’m awake all night.

It probably seems late to do that, given that halloween is only a few days away.  But, have you ever seen a pumpkin carcass a week afterwards?  The mold - ack!  Not to mention The Bugs.  ewwwwww.

I am pretending to be excited about the inevitable mess and yuck that will be involved.  blehhhh.

So, I’m always planning these great photo posts, where I tell the story and provide pictures and stuff… and then - apparently I am not so great at the follow through.

Either this entry will be the turning point - where I post it before I get the pictures as a motivation for adding them after the fact, or I will forget or lose the motivation to post them and it will be really lame.

Every day is an adventure!  You never know what will happen…  But for now I have to go get some pumpkins.

I’m not a fan of Goodbye. I started to say that I hate Goodbyes, but thought maybe that was too strong of a word.

Not all Goodbyes are forever, but in that moment, when you have to tear yourself away - sometimes it feels like it will be forever.

I started saying my Goodbyes after my parent’s divorce led them to live in separate states. Goodbye was an airport, usually at least an hour’s drive away. That drive was where I battled my emotions, fighting off tears that would come eventually anyway, no matter how hard I tried. Every time, without fail and no matter how much I told myself not to cry, or how many times I reminded myself that there would be another visit soon.

Goodbye was checked luggage, boarding calls, and escorted minors through intermediate airport plane changes. The same flight attendants who smiled hello to my brother and me as we boarded before everyone else, were the same who discreetly passed me tissues as I stared out the airplane window, no longer able to fight the tears as they ran silently, down my cheeks, dripping unnoticed off my chin.

I tried to enjoy every precious moment of each visit, but at some point the darkened sky of another day gone was enough for me to start feeling that familiar feeling. While I smiled and laughed through the days I knew I was counting down until the time would arrive for the Goodbye. If I smiled too much, or found myself too happy,it was enough to prick my heart and in the midst of my enjoyment I found myself fighting off the tears.

Eventually the day of the Move came, and for a while the Goodbyes were over. Still, after that I could never quite shake that feeling when it came time for the last hug in the airport terminal. When my brother moved out of state I would go through the same thing at the airport. That last hug, a smile that crumpled and wilted in seconds to tears. I would try, so hard, not to do it. With every muscle in my face tightened, I still could not hold off the quiver of a lip or the catch in my voice or a stray sniffle.

The tears fill my eyes and once they start I can’t shut them off. It’s frustrating and humiliating at the same time. I don’t even know why.

All I know is that I had to do it again today. I thought I would be okay, I thought since I didn’t actually have to go to the airport and walk him to the security checkpoint where we would have to part that I would be okay. I thought if I could just give him that last kiss and hug on my doorstep that I could do it with a smile and tell him how good it was to see him and how I can’t wait until his next trip.

Instead, the struggle started as we got ready to go out to breakfast. I found myself watching the clock, calculating how much time was left before Goodbye. We drove separately, in case he had to leave from there to start the drive to the airport. I realized that Goodbye might be in a parking lot, outside of our cars. He would get in his car and go one way, and I would go the other. The visit would be over and that would be the Goodbye.

I caught up to him on the way in and apologized - I tried so hard. I didn’t want to do this in front of him, in front of anyone. But there we sat through breakfast, me with my blotchy face and reddened features as I hastily flicked the tears away as they fell. I purposely didn’t make eye contact with anyone as I made my way to the restroom, splashed water on my face and took a few deep breaths to try and stop the scene completely. It worked, for a little while as we ate. I ignored the taste as I ate my burned hashbrowns, and bread that was undertoasted. But as soon as the meal was done and there was nothing to distract me from the thoughts I needed to shove away in order to push the tears away with them, they crowded in and I dissolved once again.

It wasn’t time yet, though. There was still time before Goodbye.
I was able to give him that last kiss and hug on my doorstep, and tell him how good it was to see him and how I couldn’t wait until his next trip. I smiled as I did it all through the sniffles and the tears and the thick lump in my throat.

Right now the house feels empty, because there’s someone missing from where my heart feels he should be. I will be okay. I always am. There is always a little relief that comes with the tears, after it’s done. The anticipation of it is over, and that is a relief.

But, oh my god, I hate Goodbyes.

I started out cleaning up a bunch of comment spammers, which prompted me to check for a plugin to cut down on that (which I found and installed).  While I was wandering around the Wordpress site I thought I’d take a peek at any themes that I might be interested in, and as always there was a bit of messing with the theme once it was installed, which led to messing with photoshop, and eventually I decided I probably shouldn’t put off setting up Kiddo’s blog anymore.  I was supposed to have set it up by his birthday.

His birthday was almost three weeks ago, and I got the domain name well before that.  I just usually decide to play Toontown instead haven’t had time to work on it.
I started to link to his blog from here, but I figured I should probably let him know it’s up before I tell all of you.  That sort of makes sense don’t you think?

Then, as I was setting it up I figured I should go ahead and add my blog to his blogroll.  I had second thoughts at that point - for one he has already mentioned his website to his teacher (he knew what the www would be) and while I think it’s great that she could read HIS site, I was thinking there may be stuff here she doesn’t really want to know.  You know?

Uhhh, same goes for family as well.  Not that I wouldn’t tell them about this site, but I take a Don’t Ask/Don’t Tell approach.  If they find it, that’s fine but I’m not going to go pointing it out to them.  As far as I know they haven’t found it.

Speaking of family (and yes, I know this entry is dis-jointed and rambly.  So what?) I need to call my brother - a thought that has crossed my mind only about three dozen times over the past few weeks.  I think it has been months since I last got in touch with him.  Oh, and HELLO Brother: by the way I moved, and I don’t have that phone number anymore, so here is my new address and phone number and if you need to reach me at work well that has changed as well, so!  You know, we really need to stay in closer touch with each other.  In all fairness though, one of the last times I talked to him the opening to the conversation went a little like this:

Me: Hi, how’s it going?

Him: Pretty good.

Me: Cool, so what are you doing?

Him: Moving.

Me: Oh, did you guys find another apartment in Vegas?  (They had talked about moving)

Him: No, we’re in Utah now.

Me:  WTF?

Yeah.

I guess I’ll give him a call.

I’m not sure if I like the new theme or not - but I’ll give it a few days and see how I feel.

This was the time my child reported he woke up this morning.

6:15 AM: The time I first learned this startling revelation.

7:45 PM: The time I got a call from the teacher - who mentioned that she also heard from him about what time he woke up this morning. Super.

Other than that - everything’s fine! Great!

Ahem. Ok people. We have to talk. I’m going to say something now that you may or may not want to hear: I am not a very good mom.

You may have already known that. If you were with me for more than an hour this last weekend, you would.

This weekend I took him to a local amusement park. The day was supposed to be full of fun and entertainment. And junk food. The day was full of shame. Shame, I tell you. Shame on me, for I am not really improving at this parenting thing. I have no excuses. But there was definitely junk food. At least I got that part of it right. woo.

It seems, I was not even aware that my child was afraid of roller coasters. Not just roller coasters but anything requiring a lap bar as a safety restraint. Upon learning this information, but not really processing the full depth of meaning of such information, I responded in the following ways:

1. Became instantly annoyed - how dare he be so ridiculous as to fear a ride? Rides are FUN! And we are going to HAVE. FUN.

2. Became adamant that YOU. ARE. RIDING. the one you are most afraid of, like it or not. Honestly, I thought if he just got on the darn thing - he would see he would love it.

3. Except I pretty much joined him in his full-on tantrum, and the two of us made a whole scene together - with him flailing and wailing and me cajoling and berating and eventually coaxing.

…

Oh, I could continue the list, but let’s just say I became about as ornery and pouty and petulant as he did. Now, I didn’t fling myself on the ground as I wailed my protest… but let’s be honest, it was close.
Later, after we left the park and ate dinner he interrupted a conversation I was having to try and correct one of the points I was making. Instead of letting him know he was being rude by interrupting and leave it at that - nooooo, I had to explain in condescending tones why he shouldn’t be interrupting and then told him to just “butt out.” How old am I again? I know I have joked that I am nine years old, but it was supposed to be a FUNNY joke, not a make-you-kind-of-cringe jokes.

It’s shameful, I tell you. I behaved worse than he did - what with my bickering every time anyone made the slightest whiny noise. It was at that point I started to think that maybe I didn’t even like kids after all, and that was why I was so ugly and mean. Hmm, what else? How about how I started complaining that “this is why I never do this stuff - total pain in the ass!” - OH, about 10 minutes after we arrived. Charming!

I could tell you: this is what crowds do to me, or this is what stress does to me, this is what frustration does to me, or this is how I respond when I’m thinking about being one of “those” parents who “allow” their children (as if we have a fucking remote control to click through the messy moments in life - public trantrums included) to misbehave.

I could tell you any of those things but the thing is if I were making similar excuses for my child’s behavior I wouldn’t be buying it.

I owe my friend and her daughter an apology, for acting like a total jackass and for helping to put a damper on the fun for the day.

I already apologized to Kiddo, and told him that I’m not happy with how I’m doing my parenting job these days. His big heart shows no limits, as he tells me he thinks I’m doing a really good job as his mom.

Ugh. He deserves better from me. But first he needs to not get up at 3 AM… because based on the fact that he was not a ragged mess today when I picked him up after work, and the fact that he was not a holy terror at all due to his fatigue, nor was he all but begging to go to bed at 7:30 tonight… I am now starting to worry I have ignited some kind of mania, insomnia, or other mental disturbance causing him some issue. One that I won’t recognize as anything other than defiance of my instructions that he not rise from his bed until a more decent hour such as 6 AM (which will still be a struggle for him half of the time). The cycle will spin - my wretched parenting will feed his insomnia or restlessness which in turn will create more urgency in me to stop him from starting his day in the middle of the night… and so on.

All this frothing about ONE night where he woke up and decided to turn on the tv and stayed up until morning. That, is talent. Talent of a sucky parent. Awesome.

*sigh*

For what it’s worth, he DID venture on to a couple rides that he swore were too scary for him and he DID scream his way through the first couple trips around the tracks (and I DID laugh uncontrollably at the screams, I couldn’t help it) and then he DID smile and laugh and scream and make faces timed perfectly for the ride camera shots, and he giggled and bounced off the ride afterwards.

We never went on the big scary coaster - the one that caused the meltdowns. He told me later, after we were home, that he felt like maybe now he was feeling brave enough to go on it. Maybe you are, Kiddo. Or maybe one day down the road. Though I think we have enough of a roller coaster right here at home for the time being.

Every couple of weeks or so, Kiddo and I will treat ourselves to a dinner out. Usually it’s the regular chain-style restaurants (Chili’s, Islands, etc.). We had the idea a few weeks ago that we should start going somewhere we’ve never been before, so our most recent dinner out was at Red Lobster.

It’s true - I have never been to Red Lobster. I did not think it was all that impressive. In fact, add a couple buffet tables and it’s basically Sizzler.

Anyway.

The waitress brought over our drinks: water for me, and raspberry lemonade for the kiddo. After she left, Kiddo leaned in and tells me, “This is a fancy restaurant.”

When I asked him how he knew, he looked around and the nautical decor and said, “I can just tell. Besides, you have a lemon wedge on the side of your glass. Fancy restaurants put lemon wedges on the sides of the glass.”

We chatted a bit more, after which he decided that it wasn’t a fancy restaurant after all. His decision was based on the fact that they made deep fried food.

Personally, I love the way he thinks. The fried food thing was so classic.  I love getting that kind of insight on what goes on in his mind. It’s one of the biggest reasons I keep going out to dinner with him. Sure, we could do the same thing at home, but there’s something about being in a new place. Away from the dishes and the floor that needs to be swept. Away from laundry that doesn’t beckon to be started or folded or put away, or any number of other distractions (computers, internets) that cull our attention away from our chatting. That’s when I get the most priceless conversations from him.

Found originally here, available for purchase here.  Pricey compared to how much I will usually spend on shoes (at most about half that price) but still, something in me says “Trick or Treat!”

Oh my gosh it is so good to be back. Did you miss me? Don’t worry, everything is fine now. Had a little snafu that took a couple days to get sorted out and it was BRUTAL not being able to come here and click-click-typey-type for that time.
Wouldn’t you know - just as my hosting got all hosed up my voice went out with it. My voice - and I don’t mean the stuff that comes out of my fingers and oozes onto these here fancy pages but the actual talky part - just up and left. Is that Irony, or Coincidence? I always have trouble figure that out. I blame Alanis. I think it’s coincidence in this case. It’s also fun that it’s a literal vs. figurative coincidence.

Uh, yeah, so anyway.

The worst part about it is that I had no voice and talking was quite the chore, but at the same time my blog was inaccessible to “talk” to anyone, as was a forum I host for all my girlfriends and I to chat without having a billion emails flying all over. I coudn’t talk OR type to anyone. All I could do was sit here with my own thoughts swirling around my brain. I guess I’m not all that comfortable being alone with my thoughts. Ah, perhaps that is why I blog.

See? Now I have all this thinking that I have been doing and now it’s just dumping dumping dumping out here.

While I was gone Kiddo had a birthday! Happy Birthday Kiddo. I’ll put up an entry with pics later. He wants a blog, so I’ll be setting that up soon, too.