Tag Archives: kids

Jan17

Happy New Year?

Posted on by
Happy New Year?

Fingers crossed, this is really the new beginning.

As much as I would love to make this joint my priority, reality is kind of a bitch. There are days I blog in my brain, there are days when I blog for others (who pay me), and there are days when I just shake my fists in the air and hope for something a lot more fabulous to blog about.

Meet Melia 2013… a divorced (officially, without my signature) mom of 4 children, living in Stepford, starting over, once again.

Evidently, my divorce was final on Monday, after 11 years of marriage and two years of separation. The divorce went through even though there was some weirdness that I didn’t expect as a pro se kinda gal, but, I trust that the Universe knows what it’s doing. As I texted my sister, I’ve been single since Monday, and haven’t remarried, yet. That’s a score for me!

I picked out carpet today, after 2.5 months of living without a living room, carpet or walls in that room and The Twitches’ room. My house, as it is, will be whole again, soon. Next, I attempt paint. Once I am paid back all I am owed by Martian (the sticking point on me not technically signing off on the divorce), I am hoping to assume the mortgage, at a lower rate, giving all of my kids the ability to stay within the same schools they’ve all known for six years.

All except Comic Boy.

Comic Boy, sadly, has kind of bombed his first semester of ninth grade. As such, and likely with the stigma of being a child of a single mother, he has been accepted into a special program for freshmen who, well, will be freshmen again if they don’t get their shit together. We found out today, after a little begging on my part, that he was accepted and starts Tuesday.

But, if he used this opportunity to turn  things around, he will graduate on time, with his friends, and be able to function as a pretty reasonable, if not damaged adult. Kind of like the rest of us. I can’t tell you the flashbacks to that perfect baby I have seen, that gorgeous little boy who was nothing but love… and who has been ditched over, and over again by those who said they loved him.

I can only hope, at this point, that he takes those lessons and becomes the amazing man I know he is.

Work, as always, is work. Its hard, its time-consuming, but, somewhere deep down, I know this is the path I should be on. After some discussion today, maybe I understand that path a little more.

Superman… well… this is one of those weekends where we don’t have little kids, where everything is wonderful and relaxed and full of work, sex and fun. I used to live for these weekends, now, I’m coaching myself to see them for what they are – whatever that really is. I don’t even really know how to describe things anymore, except that he is, at least, a dear friend who means a lot to me. The writing is pretty much on the wall in terms of a co-habitating future (thanks for asking) and I’m actually pretty ok with that. I have my own path to walk. Partnering on such a level is probably the worst mistake I could make at this point.

Aside from all of that… there is this one nagging thought I’ve been having. I’m a writer, I get paid to write. I am good at writing. I love to write. There is honestly little I think about when it comes to what I want to do with my life aside from writing. But, at the same time, my writing has become a genre that is entirely misunderstood in the creative, literary world. I once had dreams of authorship, not just “writing” (don’t flame me!), and more and more, I can taste that passion again. That unmistakable feeling of creating a sentence that speaks to countless people in countless ways. That ability to turn a mundane experience into a memory that rewrites all the good or bad in a person’s life.

The writing I miss is that writing from the soul. Not that I don’t love what I do, but I want to LOVE what I do… at some point. Its a matter of time, effort and motivation that I don’t quite have, just yet… but, I feel it stir, and it’s there, and I hope that maybe, someday, that Great American Novel in me will finally get a chance to shine.

Even if y’all don’t buy it, yo.

:)

 

 

 

Aug7

Alone, Day One

Posted on by
Alone, Day One

blatantly stolen from nintendoofarmenia.blogspot.com

Through some miracle act of a deity, I have around 48 hours to myself. Well, no, let me rephrase that. I have 48 hours without any kids. This event doesn’t happen often, and I’m usually busy throughout the “kidless time” trying to make up for what I can never get done when they’re around.

This time, it’s kind of the same, only it was sprung on me about a week ago, so it somehow seems like a special surprise in my cereal box.

I got back from The Pilgrimage  last Sunday evening, with roofers busily working on fixing my roof from damage that happened at the end of June. (Oh, The Pilgrimage was great, horrible, tiring, invigorating, and I am ready to go again, and not ever again, thanks for asking!) On Monday, the contractor called to say that the drywall/paint portion of restoring my house would begin that Friday, and reminded me that I am allergic to paint, so I better get the hell outta dodge.

Shit. I forgot all about that little allergy that makes me want to die a thousand deaths. Luckily, it was a semi-kidless weekend, so I only had to flee the coop with ComicBoy (still trying on blog names, damn teenagers), landing safely at Superman’s house. I spent the weekend helping him straighten up for his mom’s visit the next weekend, and occasionally checking on my own home that was full of poisonous fumes.

There’s nothing like walking up to one’s door and feeling one’s tongue swell even before entering one’s home. Fun stuff.

Sunday came along and I was determined to get my house back together, paint allergy be damned. I was (and am) on a mission to do as much as possible this week in order to a) prepare for new carpet in my basement (soft copper!) b) spend money on a “deep clean” in a few weeks and c) not cringe when I wake up and realize how much shit I need to do while working and kid-wrangling. I spent most of Sunday not at home, because I wasn’t quite ready to die. But, I mustered up my courage, flipped off the paint fumes, and put on my game face. This paint will not be the death of me, and I will use my time wisely, by damn. I WILL CLEAN LIKE I’VE NEVER CLEANED BEFORE.

As my friends know, I’m a stickler for a tidy home. Heh.

So, when Martian agreed to take ComicBoy with him to a waterpark a few hours away, for 2 nights, I, again, jumped. Two whole days alone. Ohhhh, the messes I could get OUT of! Ohhh, the irony! I packed up the basement on Sunday night, that was trashed from the painters who said it was in the contract they were going to paint the basement, even if nobody bothered to tell me.

I scrubbed my kitchen yesterday, drank a bunch of  Arkansas’ finest wine and went to hang a print on my walls to replace those that remind me of the stupid couch that holds all my decade-long marital anger (that is still sitting in my living room, ffs), and it came crashing down, shattering glass, and putting a frown on my face that only sushi could fix.

It did. Deliciously.

Now, I’m ignoring the huge elephant of a problem in my proverbial room that woke me up at 4am (thanks, Mercury), and looking forward to an overnight visit with friends. With at least 24 more hours of “alone” time to go, the world is my oyster. I’m putting on my Scarlett O’Hara face and thinking about the rest of the drama tomorrow. Or Friday. Or never.

 

 

Feb5

Thursdays are paradise.

Posted on by
Thursdays are paradise.

Almost by the dashboard light, but not really. Thursdays have always been my favorite day, because they’re like a really good caramel macchiato: full bodied, sugared-up and raring to go. Yes, Thursdays, you are my day to accomplish what I failed to deliver upon during the preceeding days of the week.

Today, I looked forward to two whole hours of time in which I could work on my sites and begin to finalize my plans for the semester. I have found, indeed, that two hours is enough to get things done when you don’t have a house full of kids trying to sabotage your efforts with their peanut butter fingers and cute little quips like, “you’re not evil, Mom, Dad is evil.” But, alas, the Thursday fates had other plans in store for me, because two of my kids are now home sick.

The first call came about 20 minutes into my work/school-a-thon. Fever. Headache (yeah, tell me about it). Run to school, bring home sicko #1, dose with advil, try to finish paragraph for school. 30 minutes later, the 2nd call comes in. Cough. Just a cough, but a cough that evidently is distracting him enough that his teachers felt it necessary to walk him to the nurse. “Should I come and get him?” I asked.

“Well, he’s distracted, but there’s no fever, so its up to you,” the nurse replies.

“I’ll be there in 30 minutes,” I say, even though I live two minutes from the school. He should have had the foresight to get sick at the same time his brother did, because that would have been much more convenient, so now he’s on my schedule. That’ll distract him, and proves that I am evil.

Karma, you are a bitch. I’m just saying that because I realize that this is some sort of payback for the wrongs I have done in a previous life – that half of my kids are sick and that likely the other half are incubating this plague, which means that we’re all going to be sick until March. I can already feel the hypochondria creeping up.

The ONE THING that makes this all better? I was listed on a “100 Must Read Blogs by Women“… blog. I’m Internet famous, baby!

Jul23

Kid Stuff?

Posted on by
Kid Stuff?

So, I was driving today with my 7 hundred children and “I Kissed a Girl” by Katy Perry came on…

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=43eTLCdEXNs

Now, I will say I think its an ok song. Since the first time I heard it, I’ve had the wrong lyrics in my head (“it tastes like cherry chocolate”) so it kind of annoys me since I’m a freak about having the right lyrics. Send me a song, and I’ll look them up. Its just what I do.

But, I found myself turning it down. I don’t do that with any other songs unless they’re overtly sexual or violent. I kind of feel weird about it. My eldest has had questions about gay relationships and I’ve told him that there’s nothing wrong with being gay. I’ve even asked him why he thinks its wrong and he just shrugged at me like I was right.

So, wow. What the hell?