she splays me open

This morning Younger and I were talking about my friend Kell's adorable new dog.  We were discussing the naming process.  Younger agreed that the name I suggested fit the new dog but she said, "I suggested Abu anyway.  From Aladdin?  I'm obsessed with that name for an animal.  I have to make it happen."  Then she looked out the car window, saw a man walking his dog and mock yelled, "Hey mister . . . name your dog Abu?"

I chuckled.

My dog, Hope, was in the car with us.  Younger longingly suggested I rename her Abu.  I declined.  She harumphf'd, crossed her arms across her chest and huffed out, "Fine," in the way that only teenagers can actually manage.  (You know . . . using that tone that suggests the world is full of dumbsh*ts and only they have any real understanding.  Which might be true . . . see here . . . but I digress.)  Then she said, "Even Mickalya wouldn't name her new cat Abu.  She named it Thumper.  Nice.  She named her kitten after my dead rabbit.  Can you believe that?"

Abu inside Genie's house

Feeling the need to steer us away from the dead pet rabbit, I said, "Truth is, I'm not sure Hope really cares what we call her.  Right, Refrigerator?"  Hope looked at me and wagged her tail.  (She's not real smart.)  "Huh, Stupid dog?"  Hope gave me a slobbery kiss.  "See?"  I said, "We could probably call her Abu and she'd never notice."

Getting into the swing of it, Younger said, "True.  But we would be better off . . . ," and here her voice trailed off into that sing-song intonation we use for dogs, babies and the very old, " . . . just calling her Mommy's desperate need to be loved."

Thanks kid.

Maybe I'll have Younger's name legally changed to Abu.  It would serve her right.

conversations from the borderline

Wow.  Eldest is back at it.  We're in unstable territory . . . the land of tornados . . . roller coasters . . . and generally a lot of stuff that does not make sense.  I'm not 100% sure, but this one seems to be borderline related, not bipolar.  There is a lot of attempt at drama and illness.  And there is some truth mixed in with the mess (she has a cold, she hurt her finger, an acquaintance had open heart surgery yesterday), but the drama sucks.  If she would just take the damn meds we wouldn't have to live like this.

I was supposed to take her to the doctor today because her car is in the shop.  But she can't find her purse, so now she won't go.  And, no, I'm not allowed to help her find her purse.  Why?  I have no clue.


So we've resorted to electronic communication inside the same house:

Me:  If you change your mind, I'll be here for a bit.

Eldest:  There's no point.  my purse is gone.  I'll just have to deal with it. Just go to work.  I can't deal with this and I just.  Whatever.  It's not like it's important anyways.

Me:  I am here for a bit and I'm not going to respond to the rest.  And Eldest . . . I'm really, really sorry about Nacho [the guy who had surgery].

Eldest:  I'm sorry mom.  Have a good day at work.

Me:  I'm sorry you're miserable.  I know I can't but if I could, I would fix it.

Eldest:  I just can't deal with any of this right now.  It's not even me being irrational.  I know if the doctor said anything bad about my hand I'd just break down.  And I know something is wrong with it, because I can barely move my whole hand [as I type this, I am watching her remove a rubber-banded-in bow from the dogs ears...she is moving her hand with great dexterity and strength].  But I just can't handle going to the doctor.  Just like everything else.

Me: [not responding]

Eldest: I'll just have to see a doctor some other time or likely just not see one.  I'm sorry you had to deal with this.

Me:  I love you.

Eldest: I'm sorry.

[Two minutes pass as I make tea.]

Eldest:  I won't ask you to take care of this again.  I'll get dad or someone to [she lectured me this morning on how her dad will never believe she's sick and help her--and the truth is, while he's not my favorite person right now, he would help her if she was injured].  I feel too bad about today to ask your help again.  I need to go because I can't stop crying and it hurts to text.

Me:  Eldest, I'm here for you and you haven't inconvenienced me.  I'll leave for work soon and be there in just fine time.  Think about borrowing the car Thursday afternoon if you feel more stable then.

Eldest:  I won't be able to drive.  There's no way.  Even if my anxiety didn't exist my hand would make if impossible.!  And I can't ask your help either.  I just have to deal.

Then she came downstairs and snuggled the dog.  


She stood up and I asked her to hand me something.

She announced she's in a really, really bad mood and can't help me out.  But she handed me the item, and then the flip switched again.  She screamed, "I was in a good mood and now I'm in a really bad mood . . . and I just can't . . ."  And ran off upstairs, slamming doors and knocking down things.  

Photo from here.

I'm just left here, shaking my head.  Knowing there is nothing I can do that can quell the storm in her heart and her mind.  


What I said above is true, "I know I can't, but if I could, I would fix it."  Sure, I'd fix the little things that are bothering her today.  But mostly, I just wish I could fix this thing that takes away my darling daughter. Today you get a house from the borderline . . . 
   

giggles

Bwuahaha!

This makes me chuckle.

Actually, this had the power to make me feel happy.

Yes.  It's been a long grouchy week.  And I want it to be over, not just hump day.

That is all.

ms. awkward, at your service

There are moments in life where we are all idiots.  I lived one of those moments today.

This moment can hereinafter be referred to as the "Esquire Idiot" moment.

I was in court for a pretty big hearing.  I had to get up at 3 a.m., leave at 4 a.m. and drive four hours for this hearing.  On one particular issue, I would be arguing lead.

This meant I was keyed up.  My brain was hopping.  I was ready.

As the Judge announced the argument schedule, I was set to argue second.  My argument went well.  The Judge seemed rapt.  While I would always like it to be so, it ain't always so with some judges.  This one seemed prepared, smart and attentive.  That's really all you can ask from a Judge.

After me, four other sets of lawyers (about eight more folks--including most of the bankruptcy trustees in the entire state of Arkansas) were set to argue.  This included my opposing counsel.

During opposing counsel's arguments, he started saying stuff that was not technically accurate.  I needed a copy of a particular contract...conveniently located in my briefcase...to locate the information wherein I would set him straight.  I had him.  I knew he was wrong.  And what I needed, I actually had with me...again, this ain't always so.

I just needed my briefcase, located under the bench upon which I was seated.  Um...ok...located under the guy sitting next to me on the bench upon which I was seated.

In my excitement over getting to pin this turd of an opposing counsel to the wall, I looked at the lawyer sitting next to me  and said:

Excuse me, I just need to reach between your legs for a moment.

Yes.  Read that again.  Let it sink in.

Sh*t.  I am an idiot.

Star Trek V

I kind of feel like I am living in Star Trek V sometimes...The Final (?) Frontier...where no (wo)man has gone before...

Of course, this is stupid. Millions have gone here before me. It's just so damn alien to me.

Tonight, my friend JC, who is similarly going throughout a divorce called me and said, "It's my 20th effing anniversary. I need a drink." So I took her out for a drink. Or three. But only three.

And while we were at this neighborhood bar, we discovered the young stud who likes himself some older women. Wow. They really do exist. At least it made for a really good laugh. It was too damn bizarre for words. And if I really think about it, pathetic.

As JC said, "If that's my choice. There is going to be a serious hit to my self-esteem." Well said, JC. Well said.

Another of my divorced friends suggested I just need to go get laid.

Wow. There is some advice I haven't heard since, well...ever? And I don't think I'll start with it now.

This is why I'm living in some kind of Star Trek episode. But this is where I am now, so I best be figuring it out. Just not with some young stud sympathy f*ck.

Seriously. Who is that desperate?

a post in which I rage

I am seriously, seriously pissed at the-man-formerly-known-as-Car-man and who shall now be known as Wasband (husband...wasband...get it?)  I only WISH he was "was" and wasn't still-in-the-process-of-becoming-"was".

At any rate, Eldest turns 18 in eight days.  Back around the first of the year, when Wasband still thought he could turn the chickadees against me, he promised Eldest an iPhone for her 18th birthday.  After some angsting, I told her that, yes, if he bought it, I'd let her add it to my plan and I'd pay the extra monthly fees.  She's been looking forward to this for months.

Some time ago, she tried to talk him into getting for her early.  He made noise about me not approving of it.  I checked with him about it and he demanded I put it in writing that he could buy her the phone.  I figured he was just being an ass, and did it.

So today he comes over to pick up Younger because they are going to drive go-carts  this afternoon (Eldest refused to join them).  But Eldest did go outside to talk to him about the phone.  Apparently, he once again suggested I wasn't going to let him buy her the phone--guess he forgot about the writing--so Eldest came and got me.  I told him that it was fine and left again.  I was avoiding a scene with him, so I walked away and didn't witness the rest of the conversation.

Eldest came in crying.  She said that he told her he had other very important things going on in his life and they'd just have to see about the phone.

You know...I really don't know what the hell is up with him...but who tells their kids that they "have something else going on" and make no reassurances about the kid's birthday?  Sometimes I really don't know who this person is and how the hell I stayed married to him for so long.

P.S.  When Younger came home she informed me that he has a car seat in the back of his truck and there were Cheerios all over the backseat. I sure hope whatever woman is entrusting him with her kid realizes that he drives drunk...all the time.  It makes me sick to think about it.

Yea...that's a Cheerio house.  Cheeri--effing-o.

calling creative bloggies

This weekend is Younger's fifteenth birthday. (Yeah, my baby is 15. *sigh*  That's a picture of her the summer she was six.)

Anyhow, part of the party is going to be a scavenger hunt in the neighborhood. Not the kind where they knock on people's door. Instead, they will have digital cameras and have to take pictures off a list. Then we will award prizes...most creative, fastest, most pictures, etc.

My brain is frizzling out and I need help thinking of ideas for pictures. Here is what I have so far:

1. Something that reminds you of cheerleading; the picture must contain two team members acting like cheerleaders
2. A picture of something in nature that runs, but doesn't walk (this item cannot be manmade)
3. A picture including a color that doesn't occur in nature
4. Give us the old collegiate try
5. A picture with a windchime in it and one team member making wind
6. A vehicle that might be driven by a Leprechaun
7. A picture with fruit in it; the picture must include three team members doing their best imitation of a banana
8. Something the size of a hand, with the item and the hands of four team members in the picture
9. Something you can climb on; the picture must include three team members imitating monkeys
10. Two teams members play-acting a sword fight
11. Something that reminds you of french fries
12. Show us your best Halloween spirit
13. One picture containing five triangles
14. Something that represents the number 15
15. Something that makes you think of birthdays (and pictures of the birthday girls don't count)

I'd like to have a list of 20 or 30 items.  Anyone have good ideas?  The rules will include staying out of yards, but they will have access to a small park and a green-belt area with a creek running through it.  The clues can require crazy pictures, be riddles (the runs and doesn't walk thing is supposed to lead them to water), be things that will be super easy or very difficult to find.  I want them to be creative.

Any suggestions appreciated!

um . . . ok?

We hired a bit of a drill-sergeant for a nanny this summer. She's scary. She's also fully capable of handling what our particular home presents right now.

When we found her, it felt fateful.

She has a special needs brother who she is very close to. She has a degree in special ed and is an aide at one of the middle schools in our district. She has her masters degree in high school counseling. I mean, could I do better for our situation this summer?

I think not . . . err . . . I thought not.

The girls are not loving her. She is not our typical bubbly, fun college-girl nanny. She 26-ish. She's big. (I'm not trying to be mean...but she could not fit in the rides at the amusement park. So nothing prejudicial here. Just the facts.) She is not very much fun. The girls complain that she doesn't interact with them. And quite frankly, this summer? I don't care. The Drill Sergeant could deal with any shit that might rain down upon our home . . . if you know what I mean. She knows what to watch for and that's worth it's weight in gold . . . or $12/hour . . . which is close to gold, right?

But yesterday it turned odd.

The girls said they were just hanging out watching TV, not paying attention to the Drill Sergeant. The next thing they knew, the water was running in their bathroom.

The Drill Sergeant was taking a shower.

Without telling anyone that's what she was going to do.

And no, she isn't a "live-in". She goes home at night.

And no, they didn't go to the pool yesterday or even go outside and get sweaty.

It seems kinda weird, no?

So what do I do with that? I'm thinking I leave it in the I-don't-have-a-clue-how-to-react-so-I-think-I'll-just-ignore-it category.

sad day

I wrote some time ago, here and here, of the fact that my brother and his wife were getting divorced. It's been a very disturbing, pretty ugly time.

Today, his IEW ("imminently ex-wife") loaded up their kids in the mini-van and moved to Minnesota. My niece and goddaughter re-starts first grade tomorrow in a school far away from us.

This is my brother's fault. But nonetheless, he is broken into pieces. It makes me feel so very empty and sad for him. There he is, knocking around in their big, unsaleable house, all alone, job hunting, knowing that he really has no one to blame but himself.

How did he left himself get here? I have no idea. I really cannot fathom it. I cannot believe that my kid brother screwed up so badly.

But. I will have him over to dinner tonight. And I shall inundate him with lunch invitations and texts...and hope that he can pick himself up and do better. Be better.

But I will also cry a little bit in private.

It's a sad, destroyed house.

i look incredibly stupid

Yesterday I got a text over the lunch hour from Eldest saying:

apperently since miss davis hates me i have a dention tonight.

idk what happned

(As usual, I left the horrid spelling and grammar so you can have a cringefest right along with me.)

I texted back:

Find out why you have detention and let me know.

When she got home from school, Eldest informed me she didn't serve the detention yesterday and they would just make her serve it at some, to-be-determined, surprise time.

Starting to sound fishy to you?

I again asked why she got detention. I was again told she didn't know. And when I gave her the incredulous-eye, Eldest said, "...err...because Mrs. Davis doesn't believe that I was sick last week and so she thinks I was skipping study hall. Or something like that. I don't know."

You see, folks, I--Laggin---look REALLY, REALLY stupid. I look exactly like I would believe that. Or at least that's what I look like out of a 15-year-old eyes...STUPID, stupid, stooopid.

Last week, when she WAS sick, I called the absence to the school and Eldest told me she checked in with Mrs. Davis on the day she came home sick mid-day. Eldest went so far as to tell me Mrs. Davis assured her she didn't have to make-up the study halls that she missed when sick. In fact, Eldest reported Mrs. Davis saying something like, "I'm worried about that cough you have. Go home and get better, sweetie." Which was followed with some effusive praise of Mrs. Davis by Eldest. (Mrs. Davis is a technology teacher and study hall monitor at the high school. She also happens to be the mother of one of Eldest's good friends, a boy known as "Peanut". Remember the name, this is what we call foreshadowing.)

So, following Eldest's lame attempt at explaining her detention, I said, "Ok. I'll e-mail Mrs. Davis and let her know you really were sick."

*Ha. Gotcha!*

Eldest immediately started back-pedaling, because I look stupid, "....um...err...don't e-mail her because then she'll get mad at me."

*She'll be mad? For what? Lying to your mother?*

I said, "Then you better find out why you got detention and report it to me or I'm going to ask Mrs. Davis directly."

Eventually, after a few rounds of "I don't know"--"Ok, just find out or I'll find out," Eldest said, "I got detention because Mrs. Davis thinks I lied to her."

*Hmm. I wonder where Mrs. Davis would get the impression that you are a liar, dear child? I cannot believe anyone would believe my child capable of lying. You are so clearly truthful, and all.*

"Why would she think that?" I asked.

The response was, "She thinks I lied about having to do my math test during study hall."

"Ah," I say, "well that's easy to fix. Just have your math teacher tell Mrs. Davis that you were taking a math test during study hall. No problem!"

More back-pedaling, "It's ok, Mom. It's just easier to serve the detention. I've got it. Ok?"

*Ha! You mean it's easier to serve it because you DESERVE to serve it?! Is this an admission that you WERE lying?*

"What? Why don't you just go to Mrs. Scherer [the math teacher] and have her explain that you were taking the math test during study hall?"

Following a HUGE SIGH, apparently intended to convey her mother's utter lack of intelligence, Eldest said, "Because Mrs. Scherer wasn't there when I showed up to take the test. So SHE thinks I'm lying too. Whatever. It doesn't matter. I'll just serve the detention."

*Ah. So there it is. Two teachers think you are lying which means that you were probably...um...LYING. Or twisting the truth, kind of like what you're doing with your mom, huh?*

And, just to reaffirm how stupid I look, Eldest added, "It doesn't matter. Mrs. Davis is just doing this to me because Austin broke up with Peanut." [You remember her? Austin is Eldest's friend whom I previously wrote about.]

*Oh, yes. That explains it all. Mrs. Davis, a perfectly sane 40+ year-old woman, with years of parenting experience, is giving you detention because one of your friends broke-up with her son following a 10-day relationship. Yes. Now I understand everything very clearly. Because, you see, I am very, very stupid. And you, dear daughter, are not honest.*

Do you suppose it sucks to have a lawyer-mother who cross-examines you constantly?