Tag Archives: friends

The thing about sand castles… you can’t live in them.

This is the chapter I couldn’t write in November for Part 2 for the kids.

Occasionally people will ask me why I am so focused on friendships. Why do I pursue them with such vigor and to the point of my detriment. Because I am both trying to replace and replicate family relationships. Because without my friendships, for many years, I felt like I had nothing. As much as my romantic partnerships have tried to form “family” feelings with me… I’ve always been deeply aware that they could end at any time. I am tremendously aware that I am lacking in many ways and even with Noah I am always kind of holding my breath waiting for someone to leave me. But my friendships lasted through so many romantic relationships. They had more staying power. What was the price?

I spent many years talking about the tripod of women who supported me and made me feel like I could keep going through anything. In order to do that I had to be in an awful lot of denial. I had to do a lot of pretending problems weren’t happening.

All of those relationships are in a state of collapse. It is hard for me to wrestle with how much of it is “my fault”, how much of it was ever in my control, and how much it was inevitable if I ever developed a higher level of self love.

Sarah I’ve been writing about for quite some time. Sarah used the shit out of me and made big promises and didn’t live up to them. When I got angry she would tell me that I have a personality disorder. She had almost ten years of using me to partially fund her vacations. She literally took money from me (intended as food money for the household) and used it to go visit her sister. She said she would be there to do the hard work of raising children. She lied up one side and down the other. Instead she took from me until she wrung me dry and then I was the problem because why did I have these outrageous expectations of her–it wasn’t her job to support me. No. It wasn’t your job. But you told me you would do it because I did so much to support you.

Pam has always been in my life in flighty hit-or-miss ways. I spent over a decade dropping anything I was doing (at work, at school, with friends, with people I was dating…) when she wanted attention because “she only had a few minutes to spare in between her exciting life.” I always felt honored she wanted to know me. I was the only person in her life who was supportive of some aspects of her behavior and she wanted access to that support 100% on her own timeline. The couple of years when she consistently came over to our house in Fremont? That happened because she was otherwise an around the clock care giver for her elderly grandmother and she wanted a break and no one else had that kind of time available to spend with her. I loved seeing her! Don’t get me wrong! I appreciated all of the time she chose to share with me. But I can no longer pretend it was ever about my needs–I was there for her when she wanted me to be. We were supposed to go see her in December. We didn’t go because the flights were going to be over $5,000 and right now I just don’t have that going spare. After the fact she said, “It was a good thing you didn’t come to Taiwan because it turns out I wouldn’t have been able to spend any time with you.” I feel utterly gutted. I am glad she sees that she wouldn’t have spent time with me, at least she is that self aware. I am glad that I now know that I will never ever prioritize going to see her like that because if I try to ask for time on my own schedule I can go fuck myself.

And I have not been writing about Jenny. That’s been very much on purpose. If I look back in time… I have chased Jenny from the beginning. When we met I basically begged her to be my friend. I always called her. I asked to come over. I offered her a chance to go swimming in my pool. (It wasn’t my pool, but I lived in a house that had a pool and she was a competitive swimmer.) She thought I was super rude because I thought she was judgmental but she described me as being a stupid slut and she thought that was totally ok. Through high school I chased her. Through college I chased her. After college I chased her into hobbies and blogging and social groups.

I have been chasing Jenny and begging her to be my friend for most of my life. She was the person I went to when my dad and my brother both killed themselves. I thought that meant she was there for me. I never wanted to look at what that meant I had to put up with.

I wrote about her when I first arrived here in Scotland. I said she was a ride or die friend who was doing so much for me. All of the stuff she so thoughtfully provided to ease our transition? Was stuff she didn’t want anymore but she didn’t want to deal with doing the work to donate it without owning a car. Most of it was broken or has broken since. She was here when one of the glasses finished shattering. She said, “It’s ok I won’t be mad at you.”

She said that my children are retarded. She said that anyone who is home schooled is going to end up retarded–she doesn’t mean that in “the mean way” she means it in “the medical way”. So she constantly tells me that I have to make my kids go to school so that I can stop fucking them up.

She has almost zero Scottish friends. Her friends here are all American Ex-pats but she constantly tells me all of the things I am doing wrong and why I have to change in order to assimilate. SHE HASN’T ASSIMILATED. But she is right and I am wrong and I need to stop being like me. You know how chatty and sociable and outgoing I am? That’s wrong and I need to stop it. Whatever I am doing that gets people to open up to me is wrong and I need to stop it.

I don’t think Jenny actually likes me very much. Hanging out with her makes me feel terrible about myself. I leave visits with her and feel like I want to cry and cut myself. I am just so fucking wrong. Nothing about me is ok or admirable.

Oh, but can I make a cake for her daughter’s birthday? Thanks.

Pam has literally talked to me a couple of times since I got here. I still send her emails. Why do I chase these fucking women? Pam only wants to talk to me if by chance I happen to stumble upon a topic that is part of her hobbies.

In general my anxiety and depression have been better since I got here. I only see Jenny about once a month and I think that is going to end. I called child protective services on her. That’s a story. She came over for a visit and she was telling me about how her seven year old was having a tantrum (it sounded like an anxiety attack) and she didn’t want to deal with it so she spanked the kid. That’s literally illegal in this country.

I was talking to a buddy about this (I do have some people I am still talking to a fair bit–I really like the Marco Polo app) and she told me that she thinks it is really weird the way white people are so anti-spanking. She’s from China and in her experience parents are considered abusive if they don’t spank their kids. You are neglecting your responsibility to shape their character. I told her that in my opinion there is a difference in result for kids who are spanked in a society where freaking everyone gets spanked and it is the norm and a place where spanking is not acceptable and you now have to hide your parent’s secret. I think that the secrecy and the shame of “I am so bad that my parents are forced to break the law to deal with me” is as big or a bigger problem than the spanking. The fact that Jenny doubled down and defended it because “There was nothing else she could do to stop the behavior and it had to stop right now” when the behavior wasn’t hurting anyone else it was just annoying and inconvenient really put up a whole passel of red flags. So now her kid’s doctor and school and everyone is on notice that the family isn’t coping.

I think I may have just burned that bridge to the ground and I don’t feel bad. I didn’t make the call because I wanted to nuke the relationship. But I was not going to live in Jenny’s fantasy world where she is “always right” and she can do whatever she wants to her kids because they belong to her. Fuck that. The kid has rights. It’s not ok to spank a child just because you don’t like them having a tantrum. Gain some new god damn skills.

Ok, full disclosure time: I spanked Middle Child once. She spent months beating on Eldest Child to the point where EC was bleeding. We tried a lot of things. She was in therapy. We tried a variety of interventions. We did a whole bunch of fucking things. I talked to her therapist about it. I finally told MC “If you do this again, I am going to have to spank you because apparently nothing else I do is going to convince you that being hit sucks. You don’t get to beat on your sister every time you have a bad mood.” She beat on EC again. We separated. We all went to different spaces to calm down so that nothing was done in the heat of the moment or as a rage reaction. When I was fully calm I went back in and asked her what happened and why. I asked if she understood what was going to happen now. Over her clothes with my bare hand I swatted her.

She has since said that it didn’t hurt physically almost at all but she felt emotionally devastated. She continues to fight with her sister verbally and in normal snotty kid ways like throwing things, but she hasn’t made her sister bleed again. I’m glad. I don’t ever want to do that again.

You can’t beat your sibling until they bleed forever without consequences. If I allow that I am neglecting my other child and I can’t do that.

Is that different than spanking a kid because you don’t like their temper tantrum and buying their cooperation didn’t work this time? I don’t know. I don’t sleep easy at night knowing I did this. I don’t feel good about myself. I sure as shit am not going to stand up and say that I did the right thing. I know that we worked on it for months. I don’t really feel like I have moral superiority. I did it in a place where it was a legal parenting practice for me to do. Does that make it more ok?

I don’t know.

But the only things Jenny has tried are offering toys, candy, and money as bribes and when that doesn’t work she said “Ok fine then I have to hit you”. She won’t set boundaries because that’s “too mean and she is supposed to be their safe place where anything is ok.”

My kids have thrown a lot of tantrums. I have never decided in the moment to hit them to make it stop. I don’t know that it is morally superior, but I have a fuck ton of tools in my tool belt for handling misbehavior without having to hit a kid. I ran out of tools when it came to making other people bleed on a regular basis. That was my failure. Has every parenting tool I have ever tried been good? Oh hell no.

When my kids tell me that a thing we are trying makes them feel bad we don’t do it again. I apologize for failing. I don’t act like it is their fault for failing to comply in a way that is easy for me. I am failing to figure out how to meet your need in whatever manner it is coming up right now. I am sorry that I fail so much. It isn’t your fault. Sometimes my best is genuinely not good enough.

That is the part that never feels reciprocated in my friendships. Not Sarah, not Jenny, not Pam can admit that sometimes the best they can put into the relationship is not good enough and they are failing and doing wrong. I am the problem if I am not willing to describe whatever they offer as the best.

That’s the part that is toxic as fuck. They are right and I am wrong. I know that I am fucked up and I often create that dynamic in my head without help but a number of people have heard me describe these relationships over many decades and in general that is feedback that other people give me. “Why are you always wrong and that person is always right? I don’t think that is true.”

Sarah would absolutely act that way. Jenny literally has it as part of her internet presence that she is “always right” and she moves through the world that way. Pam would never ever admit out loud that she uses me.

I’m the one with the fucked up expectations. It’s totally reasonable to expect your friends to just be happy funding your lifestyle or to have to drop whatever they are doing if you want attention or to accept being told how stupid and damaging to my children I am.

I am the one who isn’t ok. Duh.

I circle back and back and back to these women.

I think it is time to let the waves knock these sand castles down.

Ghosts and Gaelic

I have started studying Scots Gaelic on Duolingo. So far I can pick out grammar a little bit and I can recognize words in writing. I’m pretty sure my pronunciation is shit and any person who actually speaks it would be annoyed at hearing my butchery. But I’m trying.

It’s a little odd unpacking our stuff. I have a really strong sense of “stuff” being tied to people. When I touch an item I am flooded with memories of the people I have seen use something, how I got it, why it is connected to someone I have loved. We pretty much only mailed stuff that had sentimental attachment. That’s… complicated.

I have a lot of the books that Sarah loved during childhood. She didn’t come and get them after the breakup and I couldn’t handle getting rid of them in a way that felt disrespectful. So I shipped them across an ocean. You know how I had tons of Wonderland stuff? Sarah was the one who was into Alice. All of the tea stuff I shipped… reminds me of her. There is a bunch of art stuff she made with the kids. And still we use backpacks and bags from her. My jewelry box was hers.

Taylor made my absolute favorite blanket.

My mother and Jenny’s mother made the baby blankets we shipped.

I have a photograph that Michael Blue took and I can’t get rid of it and I can’t display it.

I have hair stuff from Kira. I remember her voice reading a lot of the board books we own.

I have baby dresses and a mink stole from my mother/great grandmother.

I have a toddler tank top from Mikey and Katie’s wedding.

I have a vase from Francesca.

I have books from Lee.

I have a Ganesha from Mollena.

I have pictures of people who have been important to me. Thousands of pictures. Ethan and Kevin and Joey and Talia and Michelle and Ian-before-he was Ian. I have pictures of my friends with my children. I have pictures of my friends laughing and having fun. I have pictures of hobbies and activities I will never do again. Many of my friends were lovely and they gave me pictures of them from their childhoods.

The snow globe I was given as a thank you for marrying Michael and Erin.

Presents from Noah’s family. The wedding present his college ex-girlfriend made and gave to us. All of the dishes that were hand made by his aunt (a nice lady; we always make sure we stop in to see her when we come to Texas).

Love does not die with the dissolution of a relationship. Connections do not end even when you attempt to sever them. I am made up of fragments of a thousand different people.

The necklace from Stephan when he thought I was to be his wife.

The bracelets and ring from Tom when he wanted me to feel like his possession.

The things that my children and Noah have given me.

I don’t feel like a person made individual. I feel like an amalgam. I feel like the final result of a group project. I feel like I am so much more than just one thing.

The lip balm handmade by Jami. I’m not quite done with it all yet.

The warm things that Jenny made and gave to my family to help us adjust to the climate. (It’s been a warm winter so far! We’ve barely worn it!)

Items purchased at Saturday market with Ali. Or the other Saturday market that I first showed to Lee.

So so so much purchased with my children. I remember their consultation, “Yes that’s the right one for us.”

Despite the rancor and sadness and bitterness that have been part of some of these partings, I choose to take with me the love. I have been so loved. Bailey told me that people come into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. Even when the season or the reason has passed for many of these relationships that doesn’t stop the love or the lessons I can choose to learn from them. I can be more because of all these little fragments of love.

The hole in my back is feeling a lot better. It is on the road to healing. The depression and anxiety I have felt all of my life is healing. It’s not that I will always be happy or always feel good–that’s not realistic. It’s time to settle in and start building things and making things in this place. It’s time to make manifest what is in my soul.

I am beautiful. Is it bad that I know this because of the reflections I see in all of these tiny little mirrors? You love me. You love me. You love me. You love me. You love me. You love me. I am a Velveteen rabbit. I am real, I am beautiful, I am whole because you loved me.

And it begins

Trying to make new friends is a process. It’s hard. It takes effort and time, but we are getting started. Yesterday was a banner day on that front. I talked to two parents from the school about playdates outside of school. They both want to maintain a relationship after we leave the school. We exchanged numbers and arranged to meet up outside school.

Then the young gentleman I’m talking to came over with his partner for dinner. We talked until midnight. It was fun. When I graduated from high school they were 1. *sob*

I am utterly worn out today though. And we have two doctor appointments and a cake for a cutie pie to drop off. It’s going to be a long day. These young whipper snappers have more ability to stay up late than me. Ugh.

No stockings

The boat sucks. Transparent International sucks. Putting our stuff in storage for months sucks. Our stuff supposedly arrived nine days ago but the company on this end hasn’t contacted me. Either customs is taking absurdly long (it generally takes 48 hours) or it didn’t arrive for the second time. Or the company who is delivering it just… doesn’t feel like working effectively and quickly. Who knows.

A whole bunch of the stocking stuffers are on that damn boat too. Well… I guess some of them can wait for Easter? Others will just be given late. We will still have magic. Frankly… the kids will get plenty.

The trip to Edinburgh went fine. We did our paperwork. Now some bits have to be mailed off. I think that will happen tomorrow. Every day a bit more gets done, we take a few more steps towards being fully settled. I’m told that once our stuff arrives we will be offered compensation for how terribly over-estimate this has gone. If it takes till after Christmas (looking likely) it will be more than 18 weeks, on an 8-12 week estimate. Awesome.

I’m starting to feel scared they lost our stuff and just don’t want to admit it yet.

I’m trying to find joy though. Today a tree surgeon came and took out some non-natives and we now have a giant pile of stumps and tree chunks and wood chips. We will have a lot of fun with that. I am really looking forward to setting up a proper mud kitchen out there with rough materials instead of something store bought. That makes me feel… really happy. That speaks to my values.

It’s weird figuring out what things are part of your values. I want my kids to be happier playing with a pile of logs than sitting and watching a screen and I teach them that this is the way to be by going out and doing it with them. I want my kids to turn to me when they have emotional distress instead of eating their feelings or hurting themselves or finding awful romantic partners and so far… they do. They talk about the things that upset them and they try to find ways to solve their problems that are fairly constructive for little kids.

I want my children to be doers, not people who sit around being entertained as a lifestyle. I model that. I live that. And so far… they are running into slight troubles at school because they are not people who sit and wait for life to happen. They get up and do things. Will this make them suitable for every job? No. But it will help them find the right one for them someday.

A long time ago I was drawn to people who were very certain of their own “rightness”. I was like a moth to a flame. I wanted to be near people who felt confident and sure of their own path. I became that kind of person and it makes some of my old connections trickier. I am absolutely certain that those paths do not work for me. Is there anything wrong with them? No. We all get to be however works for us. I’m just grateful that (so far) my children have very complementary personalities to my own.

When I go check on Youngest Child lately, she is more and more often in the lounge sprawled out reading a book. She’s going to fit right in. She talks up a storm. She demands to go outside and play. I like her so much. Sure it’s going to take her a few weeks to wean off of demanding the iPad every single time she opens her eyes… that’s a hazard of travel. We can’t bring books with us in large quantities. E-readers are not the same in the eyes of a toddler. I am buying books. Not tons. Well… a fairly surprising amount considering we have been here three months. I think if I include Christmas presents I have bought 6-10 books for each person in the house already. Once the boat arrives that won’t feel as important. We already have books… we just don’t have our books and the pain is becoming unbearable. We are readers and our books have been in storage for a year. We have all used e-books… it’s not the same. It doesn’t fill the same need in our souls.

I found the local used book store and I’m already making friends with the proprietor. I think we will get to know each other quite well.

The guy who did our tree removal asked about getting our families together for dinner. He wants me to hurry up and make more friends locally. I think he sounds delightful. He spent several decades riding his bike around foreign countries. We will have lots to talk about.

I have a whole bunch of tendrils out into the community. The beginnings of beginnings… but I’m not following through very much yet. I talk to people when they touch my life incidentally but I’m not following up with more close contact. I’m still so tired. I still feel so overwhelmed. I don’t know how long it will take me to feel like I have anything to give a real relationship but I’m not there. I still go to sleep and wake up feeling so weary I want to fall over. I still feel like my days are completely packed with chores… I don’t know when this will change. I don’t know if or when this will ease and until it does I should not lead anyone on with the belief that I have something to give.

My bucket is empty.

I haven’t had 24 hours of down time in over two years. I know that is pretty par for the course for parents… but not many parents do continual travel and interact with their kids 24/7 the way I do. Shorter breaks don’t feel very refreshing because my level of over work is so extreme.

If I get four whole hours off in a week… it feels like a drop of rain in the ocean. I don’t notice it. I don’t settle or relax. I have not yet figured out how to recharge, not really. I just keep pushing through.

I am reading the Scottish Curriculum for Excellence that is the basis for all of their education theory. It’s really quite refreshing and more in line with my overall belief system and educational theory than I would have expected. I really hope I can help MC pop a wheelie and get over the hurdle of school feeling just that teensiest bit too hard (fucking handwriting) so that she can go back to full time school next year. This is about the best school is going to get.

I’m going to make “lines” with sticks and then we are going to shape letters with wood chips and talk about why the proportions are the way they are. Why do you space things this much. Why do you need the arches and the curves in these places. Why do you need these kinds of gaps between words to be readable.

Kinaesthetic education, yo.

Because when we are all done we can use a broom and sweep up the results and then try again. It’s perfect. I’m actually really excited about this.

I have so much confidence in my children that it sometimes feels unreal to me that anyone can feel this way about anyone else.

The other day I was wandering somewhere with EC and we saw some of these abstract statues of a mother curled around a child. She said that when we get the house more properly settled she wants to find something like that for us to have in the house because that is how she thinks of me. My heart exploded. I had so many feelings at once. I wanted to create children who felt tenderly held. I wanted to create relationships where my children felt adored and respected and appreciated… I did it and I will keep doing it. I said, “Ok. We can do that.”

I kind of love that my baby will say her name all day long “_____ hat. ______ bear. ______ shirt.” but when a stranger asks her what her name is… she smiles at them and refuses to answer. It feels like she only wants to share her identity with us. I know that isn’t it. I know this is just a normal developmental stage… but it feels really lovely anyway. This baby feels really lovely in general.

On the train home last night a guy was sitting at the table next to ours. For the first hour or so he kept his airbuds in and I worried about disturbing him. Then we ended up in line at the snack stand together and he started talking to me. He told me that he has rarely ever seen three children as well behaved as mine. Yes sir, I’ll take your random approval… Our train was over an hour delayed and we just talked and played and read and drew and had a good time together without being fussy. Even though we arrived home more than two hours past our bed time. My kids are tough cookies. They rarely whine and when they do it is generally a sign that something pretty serious is wrong. I trust them.

That’s part of why I am going to listen to MC and flexi school for the rest of the year. She is good at telling me where she needs to be and what she needs to have happen for a given period of time. She has sure changed a lot over the course of her life. She has tried out some pretty intense things… but she tells me when she needs me to shift and that’s the best I can ask for.

We will figure out this journey together.

This is where I want to be. I am with the people I want to be with. Sure, there are bumps and inconveniences… that’s because life is an adventure. And sometimes adventures make you cry.

Ugh, dreaming is terrible

I woke up rather early from an awful dream where I moved to Canada to marry this horrible man I went on two dates with from the dance community. There is zero chance I would do this. Even dreaming about the possibility makes me sick to my stomach. His second wife, the mother of his child, is one of my least favorite people on the planet and I don’t want to ever be in a room with either of them again because how they parent is so repugnant to me. So dreaming that I would be marrying into that shit show… blurgh. Stupid brain. I hate you stupid brain. Why do you even consider such gross options in life? I miss pot and the lack of dreaming it facilitated. I’m a complete moron in my dreams.

Middle Child is having nightmares about school. There’s a boy in her class who tried to knock her down the stairs. On the first week of her being in school she watched him drag younger children around by their hood. Eldest Child says she’s afraid of this kid too because he’s pretty violent.

I told the Head that my children were having bullying problems. She asked me for names. I said I could not give the names but she should ask my children. My children went to school and asked to speak to her. She acted confused why they would think she would make time to speak to them. I’m not happy about that part of how things are going. In my next round of emails I will mention it again. She needs to talk to them about the bullying they are experiencing.

She wants my children to stay in school but she doesn’t want to have to put in effort to find out who is giving them problems. I mean, I know I wrote positive things about the fact that they seem like a better group to work with than other teachers I have known… but it is still school. School is shit and I understand why MC is feeling over it after two months.

EC is feeling pretty annoyed because her class’ performance for the Christmas show involves the kids having to sing very loudly over a recorded song with a loud singer. Most of the kids in her class won’t sing at all because they are not interested in performing. She started off being angry with the kids because their lack of intensity leaves her feeling like she must sing twice as loud to make up for them and she is damaging her throat. She’s been doing some name calling of the kids and insulting their work ethics. I told her that she has not had seven years of being beaten down and constantly forced to do bullshit for school that she doesn’t want to do so she doesn’t understand their position. None of them opted in to this activity and they don’t want to be there. Why are you calling them names because they are engaging in the only form of protest available to them?

I asked her if it would be appropriate for me to call her names when she doesn’t feel like doing all the chores my greedy little heart might like to assign her. Her eyes went wide. Then she said, “Ok well it totally sucks that the teacher picked a song where we have to sing really loudly to drown out the singer–that’s not fair.” I agreed that the teacher made a rude choice. That’s totally fair to criticize. But criticizing people for not going along on an activity they don’t want to do? Meh. I can’t get on board.

It is utterly striking to me what a rule follower EC is. She wants to conform to the demands of authority left, right, and center and she thinks it is shameful when others don’t want to do it. But she’s also starting to notice that authority in school is not at all like the authority she grew up with. In school the authorities set rules based on their convenience or on arbitrary standards and the teachers really don’t care if the rules are appropriate in a given context. Such as: all children must carry a coat out to the playground for breaks and lunch because it is Scotland and it could rain. It frequently doesn’t rain and the children overheat in jackets so the kids leave the jackets sitting around and then they get lost and the children are in trouble. EC has been complaining about constantly feeling overheated and uncomfortable and she can’t understand why the staff wants her to feel that way.

Because the staff doesn’t care about your personal comfort. The staff cares about enforcing “the rule”.

Whether it is raining or not you have to have a jacket on.

Apparently the staff is giving her lip for showing up in shorts and short sleeved polo shirts because it isn’t “weather appropriate” but she is constantly overheated. They don’t think this is possible for someone who is from California because it is colder here. Dude. She lived in her underpants in California because she was always uncomfortably warm. I promise you that she can overheat here. She doesn’t understand why the school doesn’t care that they are making her miserable.

Welcome to school. You wanted to find out what it was like.

There are eight more school days for my kids in before Christmas break due to our trip to the Consulate. I put the chances of MC going to part-time school in January at about 80%. Do I want to do it? Not particularly. But I did not force EC to go to school when she wasn’t ready and I don’t feel ok about forcing MC to go. I am more than capable of teaching the subjects she is struggling with and the teacher is literally unable to provide the one on one attention I can provide. Of course the teacher thinks that MC would learn much better by being in a group of peers and normalizing off of other students. I don’t agree. I find that dynamic pretty fucked up.

The teacher did not look like she appreciated it when I said, “As someone who has been a public school classroom teacher the thing I appreciated the most about home educating is the lack of wasted time for transitions. In a class room you are lucky to get ten productive minutes out of each hour because getting all of the children to focus at once is practically a miracle. With home educating that whole hour can be productive and that’s why I don’t start academics until many years later and we blast through many years of progress in a short period of time with far less effort.” School is invested in believing that it must take many years to force large groups through a given set of knowledge. It literally doesn’t have to be that way. It is how school does it. But it is not a necessary part of the learning process.

Home educating (I’m trying to adapt my language because the local crowd is hostile to the “Americanism” of saying home school) is much more concise and effective than school. I can understand school feeling insecure about that. But I don’t care about your feelings any more than you care about my children’s feelings. And thus the world goes round.

I do not exist to provide you with little people to affirm your feelings about yourself. I am here to support my children.

I will have to ask for a formal explanation of the layout expectations so that I can help kiddo figure out how to do it. We’ve been talking about presentation differences for years. It is utterly hilarious to me the way the teachers here are super smug about their layout being standardized in primary schools so every child must be held to it. As if I haven’t already had to learn APA and MLA and a variety of other standards for different earlier schools. This standard isn’t somehow more magically wonderful and correct. It is just what you prefer. Whatever.

Do I want to keep home educating? No. I don’t. I’m exhausted and I’d like to be selfish and have more time for myself. But if it is what my child needs I am going to do it. This is her decision, not mine. And I’m about 80% sure at this moment that she is going to pick home educating because she learned that school sucks.

Yup. I hated school. Your father hated school. School is a miserable experience. I don’t blame you for wanting to opt out now that you have had a taste. The more I think about it the more I feel a little sick about the school trying to say that she should have to spend six more months there before I let her decide. It feels like “We haven’t had enough time to break her spirit and convince her that she’s not allowed to opt-out of abuse. Please keep letting us work on it.” The assertion that you must learn to conform to an arbitrary, abusive environment or you will never be able to have a job is so repugnant and repulsive. I don’t believe that.

My shitty hand writing has never prevented me from getting a job I applied for, no matter what the schools like to tell me. I mean, I didn’t apply for being a college professor… so I guess the timed handwriting aspect of the final exam for my masters did limit my potential… but I absolutely loathed being an adjunct instructor. I hated teaching college students. So was there really a loss of life potential there? I don’t think so.

My hand writing kept me teaching the kids I wanted to teach. Was that really a limitation? I don’t honestly believe my hand writing is going to keep me from future work I want to do. So how about if you fuck right off with your nasty attitude about how hand writing is the measure of intelligence.

“It is clear that MC should be in the highest reading group based on comprehension but her hand writing isn’t good enough so I won’t allow her to be in it.”

And you wonder why she is bored, acting out, and doesn’t want to be in school. Hm. It’s a fucking mystery. You think I should work with you to convince her that she has no option other than comply with your demands or be punished by being forced to work below her intellectual potential. She has to jump through an arbitrary hoop before she is allowed to learn anything interesting.

Or she could stay home.

Yeah. That’s school for you. MC wants to set project goals and work towards them. She knows that she is currently in the grade where EC got to work on a music video (to learn programming) and a big comic (with lots of supportive research because the comic was about California history), she did a couple of big fun real-life based maths projects, there were countless hours spent on art history as a passion project, and we went through three different fun science curriculums. EC spent this year working on learning more like how college classes are run. MC is being told she has to read baby books that are boring as shit because she doesn’t write well enough to learn anything interesting.

I FUCKING WONDER WHY SHE WANTS TO LEAVE SCHOOL.

Home educating is both a real education and fun. School has fun elements too–I can’t provide all of the group access that school can and they have resources I don’t have… but it comes in a whole package with kids who want to knock you down the stairs. It comes packaged with people spitting on you. It comes with constant name calling because you dare to be proud of being intelligent and bookish. Nerd is a constant refrain. And these kids don’t mean it as a compliment. They are trying to be derisive. Luckily my children have not been in school their entire lives so they respond with confusion, “Of course I am a nerd. Why wouldn’t I be? Nerds grow up to be rich and have good lives?” The other kids are not getting the power they would like to have from this exchange.

I am happy to the core of my being that my children are not building their sense of self-identity on the other children at school. Kids suck. Kids are assholes. Kids want to keep each other at low levels so that no one will be expected to work that hard. Fuck the expectations of kids. Keep reaching. Keep growing. Keep having high standards for yourself. You will be ok in the long run.

Sometimes people make comments about how if I have an abrasive personality I won’t have friends so I should conform more. Hahahahahahahahaha. I am abrasive as fuck. I have absolutely all the contact with friends I can possibly handle and sometimes too much. Our first overseas visitor is here and it’s going super well. It’s absolutely perfect that she can have space in the apartment to herself when she wants it and she can opt-in to conversation and food and companionship when she wants it. I’m really glad she is spending so much time sleeping. She desperately needs it. When she wants to come out our topics are ranging from education to philosophy to psychology to remodeling projects to books to cooking/food to animal training to parenting to cultural mores to group dynamics to stress management to nutrition to exercise to limiting our children having access to time wasting entertainment. I’m utterly thrilled.

But sure. If I don’t learn how to be more conformist and people pleasing I won’t have friends. Right. That has sure been demonstrated over my lifetime. Not. Yeah my 98 person Christmas card list is evidence that my behavior is totally off-putting to all people. Why don’t I get my shit together so maybe someone will like me.

Dude I need to be more abrasive so that I cull the damn list of people in my life because I’m overwhelmed trying to pay attention to so many people. Shut up.

I am going to do fine making more friends in Scotland. I am always fine at making new friends. The adults I talk to here tell me that rather than conforming to authority the expectation here is that you will just lie to any authority that questions you. I get that.

I already have a list of local people I need to follow up with for our next round of contact. But I’m tired and I haven’t wanted to get to it yet so I haven’t. It’s not a requirement that I hurry up. I plan to be here for a while. I’ll get to it. Maybe I will get distracted because it will be more important that I devote my limited energy to building connections to the home education community. We’ll see.

I’m tired and I should be asleep. But dreaming about following that annoying douchebag to another country is so obnoxious that maybe not sleeping is better. Stupid brain. ugh. He wasn’t even a good lay, what are you doing stupid brain? He’s a terrible parent. He’s whiny and self important and self aggrandizing and ugh. No. All the no. Ew. Never. Blurgh. It makes my stomach recoil in utter panic. Not for all the tea in China.

My brain is an asshole.

It’s kind of funny: having this lovely guest and having MC tell me fervently that my company is better than anyone else’s company… it reminds me that yes, my company is lovely and I would like to have more of it. Hahahaha

Ok. And now my frequent flier miles are gone because I have booked three friends coming to see us. Schweet. I’m really happy that all of our traveling has been rewarded with such a delightful outcome.

OF COURSE

In the process of fixing the broken tiles that lead to needing to replace the walls behind the shower… we discovered that the cable for the shower (it’s an electric one… long story) is totally inadequate and I’m fairly likely to cause a fire if I keep using it.

Insert lots of swearing.

Luckily, the awesome electrician who has done a bunch of work for us is willing to come fix it while we are in Edinburgh so we won’t even be significantly inconvenienced by him ripping up carpets and cutting holes in the floor. Woo. And it’s going to cost about 1/8 of what I initially was worried about so that’s not so hideous.

When are we going to run out of broken bits in this house? *sob*

Also: it occured to me today that I need to line up a pet sitter for our “need to be fed three times a day” kittens. It’s not like living with puff where less than 72 hours away just meant top up the food bowl extra much and leave an extra bowl of water.

Right. Ok. Messaged companies about that.

On the upside today we filled out the paperwork for updating our last US bank account to an international bank account and we filled out the paperwork for the kid passports. I don’t know how much work Noah has been able to do… but uhh we are getting stuff done? This is such a rough balance.

This afternoon we are going to go get passport pictures taken of the kids.

Do all of the things. I keep hoping our to do list will get shorter.

One of my online buddies is coming to visit us. She arrives on Saturday and she’ll be here for a week. She needs an escape from her life for a bit. If I think my life is stressful all I have to do is think about what she’s facing. She has been dealing with the aftermath of her house burning down and trying to get one rebuilt for three years. Temporary lodging. Multiple children in different schools and lots of issues there because one of them got a concussion at school doing sports and and and…

Tomorrow the kitties have another vet appointment to check on how they are healing. (They are little fireballs of energy. I think they are doing fine.) On the way to that I am going to return the stuff that Jenny graciously lent us because I need one less thing on my mental to do list. I need to check things off. I need to stop going through the long ass list of “I can’t forget to do_____”. I am really grateful we had help landing.

If the company isn’t FUCKING LYING THROUGH THEIR TEETH AGAIN the ship with our stuff will arrive in the UK in four days. It’s on an icki anniversary of course: my bio-father’s birthday. Ugh. I don’t know how long past then it will take for our stuff to be delivered to our house. It has to go through customs then get trucked to our house. Given where we live, it might take as little eight days from now to get our stuff and it might take as much as two weeks because NO ONE WILL ANSWER MY FUCKING QUESTION about what port our stuff is coming through but based on the home base of the delivery company I assume London. That sucks. People act like London to the Highlands is harder than fucking New York to California. Ridiculous.

Ok, there are upsides to the States. The longer I stay out of the US the more I appreciate some aspects. The very different attitude about customer service. How long it takes things to get delivered. How people handle living “remotely” compared to an urban center.

We are three fucking hours outside the capital city of this country. Folks act like it is closer to thirty hours. Ugh.

Ah well. We do love this city. I just want my stuff. Whine. It’s been almost four months, y’all. I want my long johns. I want my books. I want health records. I want my silverware. I want more blankets. I want the god damn bike trailer. I want my dresses. I want more trousers and sweaters. I want my art. I want the kids to have all of their stuff because they are running out of good cheer too.

We want to be settled already. This feels horrible. It’s just dragging on and on and on. If it takes two weeks to deliver our stuff it will have taken more than four months. For a 5-12 week estimate. I’m so pissed.

Transparent International sucks. They put our stuff in a warehouse for two months. The minute I have my stuff I am leaving negative reviews everywhere.

I have cut my fingers up so much recently that my phone can’t recognize any fingerprints. My hands hurt. I want to be settled so very much.

Less work. I need less work any day now.

Oh hey, I hear that the Highlands will get up to 10″ of snow in the next week or two…. That’ll make shipping our stuff go So Much Faster! There’s flooding. And ice.

Shit.

Finally paid off.

I have a lot of “loyalty” points for various travel websites. Tonight I booked two nights in a place in Edinburgh in December for $38. I’m excited. We have to renew kid passports (turns out I couldn’t get it done in the states because [insert long story that isn’t interesting] and now we have to get it done remotely) and get a document notarized so we can sell our Disney time share property. We are getting not quite twice what we paid for it back.

I’m having approximately 9,382 feelings about various things going on in my life. I was thinking, while out walking tonight, how I no longer have the freedom to word-vomit them on my blog without fear of consequences. I wonder if this is a sign I am getting old. Maybe my super-ego is too developed. I fear the consequences of talking about my feelings.

I have been giving just about everyone I meet a little pop quiz, “Do you find it offensive if someone tells you that they are having a terrible day when you ask ‘how are you?'” So far the overwhelming majority says, “If I didn’t want to hear that I shouldn’t have asked.” My faith in humanity is restored. I take it too seriously when someone on the internet says “90% of people who say that will think you are rude if you answer honestly.” My on-the-street pop quiz is finding more like 10%-15% would find it rude. And I am never going to please everyone. That’s alright.

We continue to settle in. I am trying to rest more, with mixed success. What that means is I bought a 1,000 piece puzzle and put together 75% of it in 24 hours. I’m trying to savor the last bit.

The boat stuff isn’t arriving until mid-December. We are going to Edinburgh in mid-December.

I’m still having a lot of feelings about the cancer stuff. I don’t know how much changing my whole life I should do. The majority of cancer risk is genetic and if I went 100% vegan, gave up drinking and sugar entirely, and exercised like a triathlete… I wouldn’t change my risk profile by very much. If I did squeeze out a slight increase in quantity of life it would be at what sort of cost?

I don’t know what to do. I am feeling a little better about having written the book. I know I censored the shit out of myself and I don’t like that part. If I knew I was going to die in six months and I didn’t have to deal with the long-term consequences to some of my friendships… that chapter would be very different. Maybe just maybe I should write a “real one” and keep it in a drawer. Maybe. If I didn’t have to accept the consequences of my actions I would write a lot more about the cost of silencing yourself for the sake of a friendship.

I am a coward.

I don’t want to feel like I am letting other people down but I’m starting to think I need to focus way more on whether or not I am letting me down. Other people need to do what they have to do for their happiness and I need to stop worrying about their happiness over my own. I need to be happy too. I spend an awful lot of time being unhappy and sometimes that is absolutely the result of my choices and I could make different choices.

Recently someone said to me that they aren’t trying to conform to their new environment, they are looking for co-existence. I am not sure I will ever really be Scottish. But I would like to joyously co-exist. A friend likes to say that after living abroad she feels more “American” than she used to. I feel Californian in my bones. I don’t feel American. I have seen enough of the country that I really don’t identify with it as a whole. Part of what I love about the city of Inverness is how much it reminds me of California in some ways. There has been a massive amount of immigration and the basic culture has had to shift to tolerating co-existence in a way that feels good and natural to me.

I do love California. I will always miss California. The necklace you gave me of the state flag hangs on the wall in my room where I can see it every day. I will always miss you. I do love you. Yeah, I think you stalk me too. I haz data.

I don’t know how we will find our place here, but I think it will happen. Piece by piece. We will have to build a new network and we will. I am not complete just coming here with the small bit of threads I carried with me. I need to build a new web.

Sobonfu told me to build my own community. I have rarely had the privilege of knowing a wiser human being than her. I need to listen. That means I have to be brave. I have to put myself out there. I have to not be content with just what I already have. I have to keep trying and growing. Even though it is going to hurt. Even though I am afraid of the consequences of being me and speaking my mind.

Today I got to talk to a lady. After chatting for a while she laughed and said, “I feel like you are me, with children. I am so happy I got to talk to you today.”

When I have given people the pop quiz they always say some variation of, “You glow with wanting to know the real answer.”

I am broken, open.

I will always be a little too raw. A lot too judgmental. Way too intense. Extra. And that’s ok. Not everyone has to understand me or like me or want me.

I don’t have time for everyone anyway. I’m still trying to figure out how to carve out space for myself. I’m still trying to figure out what that means. I am still so very tired.

I am really enjoying watching my third child blossom. She is getting more intense and verbal by the day. She is going to have no trouble keeping up with my chatty little family. She names everything she sees all day long. If she has something she still cries because she wants it and why don’t you give it to her already. She’s passionate and organized. She knows her routines. If I haven’t scooped the kitty litter by bed time she tells me to go do it. She knows what needs to be done.

We are all settling in.

School… well… it turns out that schools in Scotland are schools. But hey, no guns!

I don’t identify as “American” in large part because when I think “America” I think of guns. California has guns but it is not defined by them.

It’s all so complicated.

And so it goes, on and on and on.

The boat

I don’t care if it is a ship instead of a boat. It was an interesting cruise. The highlight was the acupuncturist. She is hands-down the most effective acupuncturist I have ever worked with. I am pretty sure she is the most effective medical provider I have ever worked with. I’m not in pain. I have a few places where I feel a little bit stiff and a little sore, but not pain. I usually have to do fantastically heavy drugs in order to feel this good. I’m really pleased with her work. And she wasn’t expensive for what she did.

I spent a lot of the trip processing stuff with Sarah. There is a lot I have not been willing to admit to myself about how bad that relationship was for a lot of years. I am really struggling with dealing with that emotionally. She used me.

I think this is going to negatively impact my ability to trust people for a long time. I have been very willfully not seeing the problems because I didn’t want to lose her.

I am feeling a little bit nervous about this perpetual travel thing. I have not been as nice to the kids as I should have been. I am struggling. For a long time I used Sarah loving me as proof that I was worthy of love and that allowed me to feel gentle and like I had some love to give. I feel like the bottom opened up beneath me. I feel unworthy of love and like I am bad. And it makes me feel mean and vicious. I don’t like me very much. That’s never good for my behavior.

I wish people wouldn’t tell me that I am inspiring. I talked to a few people on the boat about life and stuff. There was one guy in particular who was born and raised in San Francisco. He had a lot of questions about what being homeless was like. He had a lot of questions about why I hate the rich the way I do. He could not understand why I believe that billionaires are evil. After I talked long enough, he got it. It took some talking though.

I have a sore in the middle of my forehead from the acupuncture needle. It’s kind of funny, the acupuncturist constantly smacked me in the center of the forehead. She told me she was waking up my third eye so that I could accept the blessings of the universe. It’s funny that I am walking away with a scab there. It’s like my third eye really doesn’t want to open.

San Francisco is so cold. We were warm just a few days ago. And we will be warm tomorrow. I used to think that I like the cold more than the heat. But my bones ache.

This is part of the downside of being disconnected.

I just found out that a woman I know through the scene, Jill, died in November. I don’t know anything about how she passed. I haven’t talked to her in a while and I feel really bad. Long after we stopped seeing one another at social events we met and had dinner every so often. She was one of the people I touched base with and felt like she *saw* me. We never spent a lot of time together but I really valued our conversations. Now she is gone. And I haven’t talked to her recently enough to even know. I feel like such a completely horrible friend.

expectations

Periodically I get very upset with myself for not getting more done during the day. Then I stop and think about how very very little I did when Shanna was tiny. I’m doing great! 🙂 Today I ran around doing chores before Calli woke up. It was surprising that she slept till 9:30 (given that she went to bed at 6pm) so I did way more than anticipated. Whoo. I need to get my house back in shape though because the mom group is having our little Christmas party here on Saturday. Yay! I’m feeling somewhat strange about the fact that I’m not seeing my pre-kid friends much at all anymore because I made the vast majority of the effort and I’ve moved to focusing on people who return the effort. It’s… kind of an interesting feeling. But! I’m really glad I’ve had these ladies pop up to fill the void in my life. I’m really not lonely anymore.

Parenting interactions

So I’ve been hanging out with these lovely ladies for a while now. I like them. I like their kids. I like the overall dynamic quite a bit. Yesterday there was an interaction where one of the moms yelled at Shanna for watching her change her son’s diaper. “This is not a spectator sport!” This wouldn’t have bugged me much except all of the moms in the room were watching and discussing the horrible sores on the little boy’s bottom and possible treatments and what could be causing them… so all the kids were looking too. It felt like she was singling Shanna out in a way that wasn’t cool. So I felt fussy at the time and we left soon after. It was late in the day and all the kids were getting cranky anyway so the timing was an incidental as anything else.

Me being me, I called the mom last night to talk about it. I was pretty polite but I said I felt like she was picking on Shanna and I’m not ok with that. We discussed that her real problem is that Shanna was leaning on her while she was watching and this woman is also fussy about her personal space bubble. I’m not one to complain about having that kind of issue. 😀 I told her that I am completely ok with her defending her personal space, but please try to remember that even though Shanna talks like a five year old she’s only two. Give her a break and please try to be a bit kinder and more direct. If you want her to not lean on you, say that. Don’t yell at her for doing what every single other person in the room is doing. She took it well and we had a pleasant rest of the conversation. I thought that was all fine and dandy.

I have since had email conversations with the other moms in the group because they are all upset with how that mom treats Shanna. They think this mom picks on Shanna all the time and is constantly yelling at her and treating her differently. I find it kind of interesting that a)they are as upset as they are b) that they are so much more sensitive to the behavior and c)that they are bringing it up kind of as behind-her-back gossip. I think the mother in question has a sharper tone of voice than the rest of us and that she does correct Shanna more than the other boys… but that’s because she interacts more with Shanna. This mom just doesn’t interact with the other boys in the group almost at all. I suspect the boys avoid her because of her tone of voice, actually. Shanna constantly crawls all over her and seems to love her so I’m not worried about it.

It’s interesting to me how things are working out with this group. It’s been a long time since I got to know people solely in real life without the crutch of them reading my journal so learning a lot about me quickly. I feel… more anonymous. Very strange.

Something else I’m thinking about

I’ve noticed that with a couple of friends I have a particular issue. So my friends are eldest children and they were assigned a lot of child-minding duties growing up. They very automatically step in and start doing what feels like parenting my kid. I have mostly bit my tongue about this but I’ve felt kind of butt-hurt. Recently I started talking to one of the people in particular and I think that I’m having the feelings I’m having because I have so many issues with my own sister and her attitudes around doing the same thing. But I don’t like that I’m feeling this way about my friends. They aren’t my sister and they don’t behave like her at all. Even if there are some surface similarities in ‘caring for nearby children’ it’s just not the same.

Ok. I’m going to make a resolution for myself. I’m going to work on my butt-hurt feelings. In all seriousness these friends who take these kinds of self-imposed caretaking roles are going to be the closest my children have to family experiences. I really want my children to feel what it is like to have people other than me who love them and take care of them. That means I need to get comfortable with it and not fuck it up for them because of my issues. I really wish that the list of ‘shit to work on’ was getting smaller instead of longer.

(Shanna asked to watch videos so I got to type again. 😛 )

Brain dump

I just kind of want to babble and I feel guilty doing it at folks on IM sometimes. 🙂

We bought into the Disney Vacation Club. It is probably not the very best timing ever given all the other financial schtuff coming up right now (teeth issues, birth, increased health insurance costs with the new job) but it’s not going to screw us over in any way. I have been feeling really trapped lately and just knowing that I have that ability to go to a hotel for a few days and it is already paid for is actually helping me feel less panicked. Not to mention that as I’ve had a few days recently of feeling fussy/not well I have really enjoyed the escapism of getting to look into possibilities for future vacations. It’s kind of like playing Lottery Fantasy only I will almost certainly get to actually do it. 😀

Loneliness comes and goes. I’m doing better than I was for a while. I have started scheduling specific time with a friend and it’s actually helping. Knowing that he cares enough to carve out a specific day every month even though he is pretty frantically busy is giving me a hefty dose of, “Yes I’m worth some effort.” It helps that he and I share some very strong core values of shared labor. Granted I can’t do a lot of physical labor right this minute, but I can provide a big vehicle that enables him to get supplies for his projects in a way that doesn’t cost him extra money. 😀 And he knows I will start doing labor as soon as I am able. And he loves my kid. 🙂 Stuff with other people is less predictable so I’m kind of hanging my hat on this hang-out with this friend. It’s a lot of pressure for him but he has indicated that he doesn’t mind. And it’s only once a month. 🙂

I’m strangely excited about the kids resale event this weekend. (www.outrageousoutgrowns.com) I’m selling stuff we don’t want/need and I’m getting a cheap thrill out of making at least a little bit of money on the stuff that we have already used as much as we want to. I’m hoping to make enough money to pay for the next size up in Shanna’s wardrobe. Given that I don’t spend much money on her clothes it is a relatively modest goal and I’m selling an awful lot of stuff. So it’s random but I’m excited. I’m less excited about going to drop the stuff off early tomorrow morning with Shanna because I have to place everything out on the sales-floor by myself. That’s going to be uncomfortable. It’ll be ok though. Would anyone have any interest in going with me to the sellers early buying time on Friday evening?

I think it is really funny that I have turned Fetlife into a place where I go to argue about parenting stuff. Not how I pictured that involvement…

I don’t feel all that present in this pregnancy, which is kind of a hard thing to explain. I had that lovely haze of pregnancy euphoria a bit for a few weeks a few weeks ago. Lately I just feel kind of clumsy and lazy but not particularly excited about being pregnant. I have constant low level sour stomach (it always feels wrong to call it heart burn) but Tums make me feel disgusting in a whole different festive way. I’m having trouble feeling really attached to this fetus. I’ve been feeling movement every so often for a while. I’m definitely growing. But… it’s like the miscarriages made me afraid to love the baby before it arrives. I don’t like feeling this way.

I’m having a hard time processing how I feel about the upcoming delivery and how I feel about Shanna’s birth in retrospect. I feel… kind of defensive. I feel like the fact that I got pain meds means that I can’t ‘really’ handle labor even though I never got to the point where it felt all that painful. I feel like I must be lying to myself about the experience. Even though no one has ever contradicted my experience of my birth in any way I feel like there must be people who think that I am weak because I went to the hospital. I feel overwhelming shame about the fact that I needed sleep that badly. Which is really pretty stupid. I know logically that I am not a wuss/weak/pathetic because I needed sleep but I feel like those things are true. I’m scared I am not going to be able to handle the second labor. I’m scared that if it takes a long time I am going to cave much easier and not see a point in fighting for a natural labor because I am obviously too pathetic to handle one. I really don’t know how to handle these feelings. This physical sensation of being too weak/pathetic is overwhelming and I can feel it shutting down huge parts of my brain/body. I know that being afraid is going to cause me problems. My labor with Shanna wasn’t painful until I was beyond exhausted and terrified wondering how many more days would go by before it ended. I really don’t know what to do with these feelings.

Shanna says I am out of babbling time today.

Weekend Report!

We went out on a hot date on Friday! Whoo hoo! We went to the swinger party at Edges. I discovered that I am really not in a position to be doing any play with other people. I had this visceral, physical, instinctive feeling of NOT THE DADDY when a playmate touched me even slightly. I just couldn’t handle that. So I only played with Noah and I had a great time. I was quite thrilled to be the initiator of a bunch of other people getting lots of play though. 🙂 That was really fun for me in the space I was at.

The only problem with such events is they keep us up very late at night and Shanna is not interested in sleeping in. 🙂 We spent Saturday very zombielike not getting much of anything accomplished and it felt wonderful. We have both been needing some together-slacker time. We also had hot sex again for the third time in a week. I am pretty sure last week involved more sex than the whole rest of this pregnancy combined. I’m feeling physically much better. 🙂 Yay for second trimesters.

On Sunday I went up to Mo’s Tea Party in San Francisco. This was not a kid-friendly event so Noah and Shanna got to have a date at the Discovery Museum. 🙂 I had a really great time. I got to catch up with folks I like and meet a bunch of new-to-me people. I stepped pretty far outside my normal comfort zone and it was a really good thing. It was a thoroughly excellent event all around. 🙂 Then I went over to Wicked Grounds for some real food (I had not had much real solid food all day that wasn’t sugary and by 5pm that’s a problem) and had an awesome sandwich. 😀 I also got to enjoy fun, festive, sassy conversation with a fair sized crowd of wonderful people. I think all of whom are on lj. 😀 Thanks everyone! I felt very included and loved. It is nice to remember that when I get out of my house there are still lots of really neato people who are happy to talk to me. 🙂 Whoo hoo! One of the people said she would be thrilled to take bart down to come visit with me and Shanna and someone else said, “I’m sorry I never visit… but at least I never promise I will!” Both comments were awesome in very different ways. 😀

Nice day

In an attempt to remind myself of the people who love me I called one of my friends last night and asked him if he wanted to grab dinner since I was giving Noah the night off. 🙂 It was lots of fun. It was really nice to reflect on how much our relationship has grown and changed in the last ten years. He is pretty awesome about listening without trying to ‘fix’ at this point despite the fact that it takes conscious out loud reminders (he does this for himself) don’t fix! Don’t fix! It’s pretty cute. 🙂 He said something to me that I appreciated a lot. I told him I was pregnant (he is kind of out of the loop) and that I had been last time I saw him at Dickens but I didn’t know yet. He said, “That explains the level of emotional you were displaying then” and I quipped, “As opposed to just being generally crazy?” and he said, “Despite your desire to self-identify that way you really aren’t crazy.” I kind of stopped. That was interesting for me. Let’s just say that if he thought I was crazy he would say so. He’s really not one to uhm pull punches. So it was kind of startling.

What am I getting out of describing myself that way? Something to ponder.

Not to mention that I spent the earlier part of the day with a girlfriend. She asked to come over and that felt nice. It was nice to catch up with her because we haven’t done that in months. 🙂

And I was right to cancel the massage. There was no way in h-e-double hockey sticks Shanna would have tolerated me lying on the table. She’s starting to feel better physically today but now I’m getting a cough too. I’m glad I didn’t send this bug home to Ms. I Have To Take The Boards On Tuesday. 🙂

Ha. What a life summary.

With yet more thanks to facebook I found a fella I was good friends with in high school. He was one of the guys I cheerfully beat the crap out of nearly daily and he has the distinction of being the first person whose ribs I cracked. (He told me I couldn’t beat him wrestling. I did.) Catching up on 12 years of missed contact was pretty funny. He and I both dropped out of high school, though I ended up with a diploma anyway. He has been traveling the world and seeing awesome places. He doesn’t have a college education and really doesn’t care. He is currently in the Middle East and has been for a couple of years. It sounds very exciting to me.

He was shocked when I told him about the bdsm stuff–which, as Jenny pointed out, shouldn’t be shocking at all compared to the current domesticity. 😛 He told me that he admired that I worked in service to the community as a teacher. I wasn’t sure if he was mocking me given the choice of language. He said the thing he is most envious of is that I’ve had way more sex than him over the years. 🙂

Summarizing my life over the last 12 years quickly does sound way way more interesting than it feels to me at the moment. Perspective is funny.

Much awesome

In the past week I worried that I offended two of my longest term friends. I was feeling very nervous about alienating them because they are very important to me. Both have since responded very positively to me and said point blank that our relationship is too important to them to give up over any small disagreement. I’m not sure I can express just how happy that makes me. I feel valuable. I feel loved. I spend so much of my time feeling like if I say the wrong thing people will abandon me. I am grateful beyond words that they both took the initiative to assure me that they aren’t going anywhere.

I love you Britt. And I love you Debbie. Thank you.

It’s official

I’m going to Portland. Just to visit people, I’m not moving or anything. 🙂

On the 16th of November I leave my house and drive to Eureka. I will be staying with a friend overnight and chit-chatting. 🙂
On the 17th I drive to Eugene and stay with a different friend. We have lots and lots to talk about because I haven’t seen her since before I got pregnant.
On the 18th I drive up to Dad’s in Vancouver. I am staying there till the Friday after Thanksgiving. It means I am missing Turkeyfest, which is very sad. Noah is thinking he might go without me. 🙂

So, would anyone like to see me up in Portland?