#londoncalling

well, here it is, my last 12 hours in england.

and here i am, sitting here typing this.

so. that should about sum up how it’s gone.



i’m caught in this huge thunderstorm of emotions- between rationalization and pure emotion. i don’t know which way to let myself go. i don’t know if any of the directions are right.

i’m angry and resentful and hurt and heartbroken and hopeful and logical and tired and disappointed. not many of those are positive, i realize that. i’m trying like fuck to find some silver lining- i really am.

it hasn’t been a bad trip. lets say that up front. nothing terrible happened. flights all went smoothly over here- flight transitions were met, no sick problems, the phone change went smoothly, the flights were tolerable (but LONG). i’m hoping tomorrow headed home goes as well. it should be a little easier to sleep with the schedule and all- flying over i was running on my regular day hours and it was hard to sleep on an overnight flight that was only 5ihs in the afternoon my time. i landed, made it through customs, got the stamp in my passport, everything went smoothly.

when i made it out of the customs area, there he was waiting for me, my new york. leaning against the rails, big smile, big hug. we loaded the bags in the car and headed out of the airport. i don’t know quite what i was expecting- breakfast, a little sight seeing, a few *cough*detours*cough* on the way home- but we drove straight through to rougham- bits of scenery along the way, and we arrived at his house- an adorable townhouse. wish i had paid a bit more attention on the way here- i didn’t realize that would be the only scenery i’d see.

we did talk about sight seeing on the way up. i knew ahead of time that most of the places were a few hours drive both direction. there wasn’t anything i was really wanting to see, the weather wasn’t scheduled to be the best, the only thing i really wanted to do was get a tattoo while over here. we decided against shakespeare’s house- too far away, bad weather, not much to see. same for alice in wonderland and the castles and all that. i was just excited to be in england. be here with him. thought i’d get enough absorption through a local cafe, the pub he always talks about, maybe a dinner out, a bit of his little town.

i’ve been here since 8am (local time) on thursday and haven’t seen a damn thing. no pub, no cafe, no walk about, nothing. that was the first disappointment. i don’t really feel i’ve been anywhere. i’ve been in his house. i’ve seen his couch. it’s like i went over to a friends house down the street. nothing remarkable.

second disappointment: he injured his back a few weeks ago at work and has been in so much pain the whole time that NOTHING was possible. yes, NOTHING. he tried ibuprofen (even my rx ones from the recent ER trip), he tried icy hot, showers, stretching, nothing worked. he had HOPED it would go away by the time i got here but didn’t bother to see a doctor before hand or anything. normally this wouldn’t be so frustrating. people get hurt. it sucks. the bitch of it is i worked really damn hard to get here. i spent 7 fucking hours in an er (without insurance) to make sure i could be here in good(ish) condition. i spent a lot of time and money getting ready- all for nothing. all the lingerie i bought didn’t even come out of the suitcase. brazil? total waste. hair, nails, make up- pointless. YES, i realize how shallow it all sounds, but i was so excited to come. i wanted to look my best after 8 years. i worked really damn hard to be here. for him to be in pain the whole time because he doesn’t like doctors. it just...it hurt.

it’s not even the sex. it’s that he was in so much pain all he wanted to do was sit in his desk chair playing WOW because it was the only position he was comfortable in. there was no sight seeing, no going out. when he wasn’t at the computer, he was sleeping. he hasn’t been sleeping well recently although you’d never know it- 12 hours one night, 9 the next. then all day at the computer while i was on the couch next to him watching whatever was on tv. i bought a plane ticket, flew across an ocean, spent how many hours getting ready just to sit on a couch watching him play WOW for 4 days straight? granted, he’s not a traditional player (i think). he was able to hold kind of conversations while he played, and he would break every few hours to stretch or let the dog out. he would lean over for kisses while he played...

i feel like a fucking idiot. i flew half way across the country to watch him play computer for 4 days.

and there’s more.

we went to the grocery store one night since he had NO food in the house and we were both running on night owl hours so all restaurants and whatnot were closed most of our waking hours (most, not all but...yeah.). i couldn’t touch him while we were in the grocery store. small town. his mother in law, brother/sister in law, ex wife, friends, whatnot are all about. no telling who would see. and since no one really knows still that they’re divorcing it could cause problems.

oh yeah- by the way. they still haven’t told people they’re divorcing. did i forget to mention that? the divorce isn’t started. they still haven’t told people. she’s living with her mum , they’re separated, but that isn’t divorced. it isn’t even started being divorced. remember that idiot feeling? multiply it by a million. and my brain starts to go to that horrible dark place and i wonder if we haven’t gone to the pub because his back hurts or because he’s afraid of people seeing me. is that why we couldn’t go to coffee at 10am on sunday, a few of the daylight hours were were awake? because people in town might see? is that why he closed the living room door when the neighbors stopped by? not because the dog was barking but because he didn’t want them to see someone was here since they don’t know he and the wife have split? my mind is an evil, dark, mean place. it doesn’t help that i’ve been that girl before. i know what the signs are. i’ve been the one that wasn’t ok to be seen in public with. ive been the one that they didn’t want anyone to know about. this weekend felt all too familiar. and not in the good ways.

BUT.

i’m a stupid girl, there’s always a but. always a desperate claw at some salvation.

BUT, the whole time he’s said he’s so glad i’m here. he’s so excited to have me next to him. he’s so mad that his back is injured. he’s calling the doctor first thing on monday to get an appointment. he really hopes he gets re-stationed locally. he can’t wait to come see me this spring.

is it just bad timing? am i here too early? should i have waited a few months? should i have waited for things on his end to be “official”?

and i KNOW. i tried so fucking hard not to come over here with any expectations. i really, REALLY did. but i couldn’t help it. he wanted me to come. he asked me to come. he said he should have married me when he had the chance. he couldn’t wait for me to get here. and i knew better than to get my hopes up. i knew better than to expect the fairy tale ending no matter how desperately i wanted it. and i did. i wanted it so badly. i did have expectations coming here. i tried so hard not to, but i did. i wanted it to be this amazing trip. i wanted it to be england. i wanted it to be him. i wanted it so badly.

and here i am, my last few hours writing this while he’s at work. i’m waiting for him to get back and take me to the airport. it’s all done. it’s all gone. there no time left for any of it.

i came to england. i sat on a couch watching tv for four days. and now i’m coming home.

i still want to hope. i still think that maybe when it’s official and finalized on his end he’ll come see me in the spring and everything will be good then. maybe he’ll get stationed near me and it will work out then. maybe he really was just hurting so bad that’s why we didn’t go anywhere- nothing more, nothing less. maybe the base doctors really are that bad that going to them wouldn’t have made this weekend any better.

at least, at the end of the day i can say i did it- right? i can say that i went after the man i love (heaven help me, i do. so much it’s tearing me apart right now). i can say remember that time i flew to england? remember all the amazing things that happened to make the trip possible? even if the trip wasn’t that amazing, it’s still fucking amazing that i did it. i flew half way around the world. i got over being scared to say i wanted someone and came here (well, i haven’t said it to him, but that’s a different set of issues).

i’ve been on an adventure. not all adventures turn out perfectly. but the fact is, i still came here. i haven’t seen anything. i haven’t conquered anything- can’t quite get that tee shirt yet.

i’m still sorting. i have way too many hours flying to sort through things. maybe i’ll grow a pair and talk to him about how this all went for me on the way back to the airport. maybe i’ll lay it all on the line, even if it is too sappy, and tell him how i feel. maybe after some sleep and some real food i’ll have a different perspective. maybe...

this wasn’t the trip that i hoped for, even though i knew hoping was a bad thing and tried to prepare myself.

but, i keep reminding myself, it was a trip. it was going somewhere. taking a chance. so there’s that. i’m sure there will be more on this. i hope next time there’s a bit more positive. but there you have it. that’s how london’s been. forgive me please if i’m not ready to gush about it when i get back on my home turf. hopefully i’ll have a bit of time in the air port to at least snag a few touristy thing to at least show i’ve been here.

of delay tactics, spaghetti and shadows

welcome to the first attempt at delaying the inevitable- oh monday…you are a CRUEL CUREL mistress. how does the saying go? the shitteth hath hitteth the faneth…or it’s about to at any rate. it’s more of a slow motion bag of poo flying towards the ceiling and the fan blades looking ready and willing to spread the shit equally amongst all below…imagine a terrantino movie…you know what’s coming, you’re wincing already, and there’s no way to stop it…

why the monday morning drama? one of the other office gals is out for EIGHT WEEKS and i get to be her while she’s gone. she’s been in this job for 25ish years and knows EVERYTHING. i had 20 minutes with her on friday to get a tip into what’s going on…so…you know…NICE. so. instead of diving on in and just taking the bull by the horns, i’m standing on the sideline, trying my damndest to blend in with the walls, hoping the bull either never comes or wanders on past and doesn’t notice me.

delusions are nice, aren’t they?

BUT. believe it or not, i actually DO have something to say. a real point. so it really isn’t a delay tactic…oh…yes it is. BUT I DO HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY.

so. the new boy (still haven’t figured out a name for him yet…) came over to dinner last night. this is pretty epic considering two things: #1 i didn’t expect it to last this long, and #2 he said he would be uncomfortable being around my kids due to the whole attachment/not sticking around long issue. whatever. it’s not like i’m all: “hey kids…meet your new daddy!” or anything…i’m more like “hey, my friend is coming over for dinner, try not to kill each other in front of company.”

like i said…delusions are nice, aren’t they?

so. it’s interesting to get a new person’s perspective on your little family every now and again. it’s like a check up or a mid-term test. see how they perceive you, if you’re doing a decent enough job that strangers aren’t sent screaming by your family…you know…make sure we’re allowed out in public and all.

so. it’s interesting getting a new perspective. it’s even more interesting getting a perspective from a different culture. see…new boy is from a different country. a VERY different country. and they have different ways of looking at things and reading things and dealing with things. you all know about my spawns. now imagine looking at them from an international perspective. it was very interesting.

so. new guy came over for dinner. our family is odd. i let my spawns be their odd little selves and don’t think much of it. we had spaghetti for dinner. THANKFULLY, the spawns were done eating before the new guy got there because really, how the hell do you explain spaghetti tacos? but my kids think they’re the greatest thing ever, so i let them have spaghetti tacos and waited for new guy to have regular spaghetti myself. but they were finishing up when he got there which was AWESOME because it delayed the inevitable curious swarm for at least a few minutes. but then the swarm hit and…fuck…it’s FUCKING ANNOYING. all the “i just need one more drink” or the “but i just wanted to ask you something” interruptions. they’re just being curious and checking things out, but FUCK it’s annoying. nothing like making someone new feel like a fucking animal in the zoo that they want to gawk at. the worst is the little one. the INSTANT someone is in our house he is a fucking super glued shadow. one of my biggest pet peeves. see…he’s not a hugger- he’s a leech. it drives me UP A FUCKING WALL on the best days and even worse in front of other people. he can’t hug me and walk away. he has to HANG on me, pet me, grope, maul, and you CAN’T GET HIM OFF. i’m trying to serve up dishes for the new guy and myself and there’s this BLOB stuck to my back, WRAPPED AROUND ME, hanging on like a bug on a windshield going 90 on the interstate. I FUCKING HATE THAT. i love my kids. i do. but i need my fucking space. BUBBLE PEOPLE. this is why i hate it when he asks me to snuggle on the couch- it’s not a normal snuggle where you curl up and watch a show. it’s MAULING. like being wrestled by a grizzly. and it’s CONSTANT MOVEMENT. he can’t sit still for the god lovin life of him EVER. there’s always some kind of motion…petting, crawling all over, adjusting position, SOMETHING. drives me fucking batty.

so. here i am, trying to get dinner with a leech stuck on me, oldest one is trying to find the most inappropriate movie to watch possible (step brothers- sex scene and offensive language in less than 5 minutes…just great for the international/under 13 crowd). off to a great start. FUCK.

so. we finally get a DECENT movie in and the new guy and i are trying to eat dinner and the kids are, by some small miracle, quiet for a moment.

*deep breath* this might turn out ok…

by the way…who puts fucking tobacco on spaghetti?? not that i’m one to talk with spaghetti tacos and bbq sauce on regular tacos and some of our other “in house” creations…but tobacco? on italian food? BLASPHEMY!

so. it’s calm for a moment. kids are normal. new guy is eating (my pasta was a little al dente’ for his taste, but other than that i think a success). then new guy looks at me and says: “the older one? he will be your smart one. the little one? he will be your evil one.”

umm…spot on anyone? in 15 minutes he had a very accurate read on my kids. IN A WAY…hold on, let me explain. i don’t necessarily agree with “evil” but partially: YES. little spawn is very mean and vindictive. he knows how to ruin a day for EVERYONE if he doesn’t get his way, and he has a habit of being extremely vindictive if he feels he’s been slighted or mistreated in any way. part of it is his personality, part of it is the aspergers. and when you add that in, in MANY foreign countries, they view things like depression or aspergers or other mental conditions as “evil”. maybe more so in older times, but it’s still a common thought today. and really, how do you explain aspergers to someone from a middle eastern country? they either don’t have things like that, or don’t have the diagnoses we have. aspergers is still a new diagnosis in the united states and we tend to need a name for everything…other countries just say sick. we say 24 hour flu or stomach virus or food poisoning. so what we call aspergers, they probably call a difficult or “evil” child.

so. intuition, observation, whatever…in just a few minutes he has a read on my spawns. he has met them one other time by the pool at my friend’s house…so this wasn’t completely a cold read…but still…DAMN!

so. we finish up dinner and his after dinner black tea (lipton had to suffice due to lack of actual black tea) and we headed outside for his post dinner smoke (a smoker…i know…ME...tells you what a doll he is). as we’re sitting out there chatting, small spawn comes out literally every three minutes with some kind of question or tattling or SOMETHING. this did not go unnoticed. at all. like i said, it’s frustrating enough when it’s just me…i can’t get anything done around the house. i can’t wash dishes or get ready in the morning or go downstairs to do laundry without a koala pack…add to it trying to talk to someone and have a little time away from a kids movie.

and people wonder why i don’t try to date. the nights i DO get to go out with anyone there’s always a huge crying/guilt fit because i’m leaving, if i stay home and have people over i have a shadow glued to my side interrupting the whole time…it’s so unbelievably frustrating. and if i say anything to the small spawn he instantly dissolves into huge tears…

and people always say…oh, they need your time and attention. yeah, but NO. they have my time. they have ALL of my time. the small spawn does it because he KNOWS it will make people leave. because he’s jealous. he’s one of those kids that you could spend a whole week with doing everything he wants to do, not spending a minute apart, cooking, doing crafts, playing games, watching movies, then the one time you go to the bathroom he FREAKS OUT that you never do anything with him and you never spend time with him. i wish i were exaggerating…but it’s really that way.

and it’s hard to make people understand that i’m not neglecting them. i’m not ignoring them. all a new person sees is the small window of time they’re there. they don’t see that the WHOLE REST OF THE DAY was spent at home with just me and the kids. the WHOLE DAY. so then the one hour when i have someone over and the spawn freaks out…oh…he just needs time with his mom. NO. he’s had 10 hours with me today. he just wants his way and wants other people gone. we spent ALL saturday afternoon, ALL sunday together. just us. no distractions. then sunday evening i have someone over and you’d think i’d locked them in a closet for the last 900 years and never paid attention to them ever.

i just. grr. and it got to the point sunday night where the new guy felt so uncomfortable that he left. he was so aware of being checked in on and watched that he made up and excuse and left. and knowing him, that will be the only time it will happen. he won’t be coming over again when the kids are awake or around. he won’t “take my time away”. he won’t. it’s just the way he is.

so then i have to go back to being a 10pm-5am girl. which is just a nice feeling let me tell you. nothing says trollop like only having people over well after dark and leaving before the spawns get up. but it’s what i’ve been doing for six years. so. you know…also makes your neighbors REALLY like you.

ok. i think i’m done venting and delaying…guess it’s time to actually get to work…none of these stacks made themselves disappear yet…guess i’ll have to do it…

oh yeah: AND HELP ME NAME THE NEW GUY. really. i can't come up with anything on this one...

the inner raging bitch has broken free:

i tried. double shot latte. costco chocolate cake. midol. deep breathing. it just aint workin. the inner bitch is FED UP and breaking free. i've hinted at this. i've mentioned it in a round about way. you know that build up/explosion i was talking about? it happened. in the form of dear john letters. fuck you if dear john letters annoy you. i’m doin it anyway. i know it's passive aggressive. i know it won't fix anything. but it gets it out of my head.

**EDITED**

as you can see, the rest of this post is missing. i stand by every word i wrote. they were and are my true feelings. however, i have reconsidered what feels to be airing my dirty laundry in public. my purpose in publishing was to accomplish several things, and they have all been fulfilled, so the post is no longer needed. first and foremost the purpose was to finally get the feeling and thoughts out of my head so they would quit rolling around. thoughts such as those posted seems to have a snowball effect if you keep them in, they gain mass and momentum until that is all that you can focus on. unfortunately when they are as poisonous and vomitous as these were, it can be damaging to self, life, others. i was to that point. publishing was able to release that venom, purge my system, and can now be removed. it was also to know that what i felt was right and valid. through the support of friends who have read the post, and those i have had a chance to speak with i have learned that i was right, my feelings were valid and justified. having that reassurance and support has been amazing and strengthening and healing. so, again, the purpose has been fulfilled and the post is no longer needed.

long and short: i apologize for the dirty laundry but thank you for the support. i'm struggling with the line between being truthful and real and going too far. i don't believe i crossed the line here, but i definitely had my toes on it.  it has been helpful, it did purge some poison. so. success.

the funny shall return now....stay tuned.

bad mommy moment:

i will start by saying this: EVERYTHING to follow is completely, 100% narcissistic and missing the big picture. i get it. i know it's not ALL about me. i do. really.

that said:

i feel like the biggest mommy failure but i'm very proud at the same same, but very ashamed, and very embarrassed, and a whole other mix of things. ~sigh~ basically it's a typical friday.

so. i had a call from youngest spawns school this week. his reading recovery teacher called to let me know that he's been selected for a special "reading behind the glass" demonstration (don't even get me started on what that sounds like...a 1st grade reading program is NOT on the list anywhere). out of all her reading recovery student, she selected my son to do a special reading demonstration to all the other reading recovery teachers, a few different principals, and whomever else would like to attend.

SUPER COOL! he was selected out of all the kids in his school in the reading recovery program because he's making the most progress, doing the best, working the hardest! HOORAY! and you can really tell...he reads out loud at home now at night for part of his homework and he's REALLY TRYING. and he's doing so much better. it's very exciting. it really is.

so. what's the bad mommy moment? i'm mad that my son is in reading recovery. and i'm sure that makes NO SENSE AT ALL. but see, here's the thing: i have a bachelors degree in literature. LITERATURE. READING. BOOKS. i've been reading since before i can remember. i wrote my first "book" when i was around 5 years old (illustrated and everything...and stapled backwards because i'm left handed and it totally made more sense that way). so...if i'm such a book freak, WHY IS MY SON IN READING RECOVERY? why has someone else had to teach him? the ony way i can even try to explain it is like this: imagine john nash trying to teach 1st graders math. and granted, i'm not the john nash of literature, but when i'm trying to teach something or explain it i feel like i am. i get SO FRUSTRATED that he doesn't just get it. that he doesn't just pick up a book and read. it TOTALLY doesn't help that the old spawn did that. never had a problem. just picked up a book and BAM. done. so. along comes spawn number two, and not only does he have trouble reading, he still has a very hard time with different parts of speech (think wiff instead of with) which makes listening to him read out loud SO HARD for me.  i want to focus on getting the word RIGHT instead of focusing on the fact that HE GOT THE WORD. and usually it ends up with one or both of us in tears due to sheer frustration. and i feel like such a failure. how can i not pass on the thing i love the most to my own kids?

and i know that's why there ARE reading recovery teachers. they have that gift of patience and ability to work through the frustration and help where i can't. i KNOW that. i'm GLAD those people are there. i'm SO EXCITED that my son IS DOING GREAT now because of one of those people. i just...grrrr...i feel like such a failure because i'm not that person.

what would YOU do for a klondike bar?

so. i have a problem. see, my oldest spawn is smart. i know...all together...POOR NANA. but seriously. he's smart. like wicked smart. like he really needs to be a lawyer because he can argue his way out of ANYTHING. he would make the supreme court look like a bunch of arguing toddlers...oh...wait...hmm...maybe not the best example...anywho. he's wicked smart. over the top jimmy neutron brain smart. and why is this a problem? i'm smart too after all...but...shhh...if you tell him i said this i will bust your knee caps: i'm not as smart as him. i can't keep up with all his arguments, and how he remembers things, and how he can think of excuses. because while i'm smart too: i'm busy! there's life, and another spawn, and work, and a million other things, and the oldest spawn knows this. AND HE USES IT.

so...how smart is he? well, he's in this special school. for smart kids. he had to take a test and be recommended by his teachers to get into this school. it's a school of ALL smart kids. and he's STILL bored. i've never once seen him do homework or study something and he's still getting 3/4 grades (on a 4 point system). he can figure out almost anything after just a few minutes. he's freaking wicked smart. which is making him LAZY. and by LAZY i mean he won't do a damn thing EVER and throws a complete temper tantrum if i make him. and if you know me, you know i don't tolerate tantrums in my house...but what this kid does is something even beyond tantrums.

the last time he was really in trouble at school i took away tv, the ds and went the extra step of taking away his art work. sounds odd, but it's what he LOVES. he has often been in trouble at school for drawing in class, he loves making his own shirts, the kid is an art freak. so, what better way to get his attention than take away the most important thing? holy. epic. meltdown. screaming, crying, literally pulling his hair out. telling me he had no other way to express himself besides his artwork and i was destroying him by taking it away. (drama queen much?). but, i stood my ground and the art work was gone until all his homework was caught up and his school work was being turned again (hard to do, but i refuse to give in to drama tantrums).

well, here we are again. last night he had a report due for school (deadline is this wednesday). he asked if he could use my laptop to type up the paper. i asked to see his rough draft first. he didn't have one. so i told him he needed to write one out before he would be allowed to type it. and so the battle began. I DON'T NEED TO WRITE ONE. I GET THREES AND FOURS THE WAY IT IS. told him i don't care what grade he gets, i want to see effort in his work. if it's so easy, he should be able to get all fours without a problem. and around it went. it actually ended pretty quickly because there's no point in arguing with an 11 year old until i'm in tears (lesson learned the HARD way. plus, i don't have the greatest temper control). i went to do dishes and the rest of the house went quiet. i assumed (bad) that he had gone to bed. it's a small apartment: two bedrooms, a living room, a kitchen. that's it, and i didn't see him anywhere. i finished the dishes, did my work out, and in the middle of step aerobics out he crawls from behind the couch where he hid so he could play his ds and NOT write his rough draft. at this point it's an hour after his bedtime. "well, there's no clock back there". REALLY? i should have known to put a clock BEHIND THE COUCH...silly me. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? it's a good thing i was well into my aerobics and didn't want to stop. oh. my. FURIOUS. so he S.L.O.W.L.Y. went to bed (push a few more buttons kid...see what happens) and i have spent the last...oh...14 hours completely frustrated and out of ideas. before school today i told him i WILL see a rough draft tonight. he is grounded indefinitely from the game boy and tv, and i'm thinking of taking away the art supplies again. HE NEEDS TO DO HIS SCHOOL WORK. but doesn't need to because it's so easy for him. i have books at home with current events and last time around i tried making him pick out one of the articles and writing two pages about it, but after about 10 battles on writing a report vs. copying out of the book i gave up (bad mommy, i know).

i just don't know what to do with him. he is not motivated AT ALL to do ANYTHING. i've tried grounding, taking things away, adding extra work, using chores/school work to earn wii time, i just don't know what to do. he's fine and dandy from the school's point of view because he's getting ok grades, but NOT FINE from my view because he's putting in NO effort. he's too smart for his own britches. damn my good genetics! sheesh.

apparently the answer to the question: what would you do for a klondike bar in OUR house is: wait til mom is completely worn down, then just take it. don't earn it, don't work for it. just wait it out.