I had self control for a week? Who thought I’d actually be able to make it a week? Ha.

It has been a good week. I have spent a lot of it watching Outlander. I think they did a good job with the story. Yes, things were changed from the book but not in such a bad way. I think that if this were my first exposure to Claire and Jaime I wouldn’t love them so much. The actors do a fine job, but… they aren’t what I imagined. What I imagined is better. I’m happy to watch it several times though. So I’m not complaining. I’ll learn to love them.

One of my favorite parts of the show is the fact that Diana Gabaldon has spent a lot of time snarking George Martin who does Game of Thrones. She throws shade like, “I don’t miss deadlines.”

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When we were on the road trip the kids and I negotiated that we would do trades and each get a week off of chores. I have done my part to give the kids time off. I haven’t gotten a week off yet. I’m thinking next week. We don’t have babysitting (the babysitters family is going on holiday) and from Sunday to Saturday of next week we only see Aunt Sarah and Aunt Pam for social. For classes we have Krav Maga, Tae Kwon Do, ballet, and gymnastics. And a pediatrician wellness check.

For us to only have only that many things scheduled (no doctor visits for me) is the lightest week we’ve had…. I couldn’t tell you when. That is a non-scheduled week. With 2 social visits (one overnight) 6 physical skills classes and one doctor trip. Non-scheduled.

No wonder I’m so god damn tired. Going outside to garden until the kids are off to the park. Tired of the noise.

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My city has banned the delivery of cannabis. I’m writing nasty letters to my city council members. This will not decrease the number of illegal grow sites you asswipes. The people who are already operating outside the law don’t give a flying fuck that you banned deliveries. Guess who is impacted? Legitimate medical patients. Fuck every person on the city council.

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It is occurring to me that I should probably stop scheduling dinners with people. I need to develop a night time routine. It’s going to be hard enough that two nights a week will have martial arts classes to wake me up. I need to not stay up late. I am struggling to find a rhythm. And Noah is having a hard time sleeping and I feel kinda guilty about that. He gets out of synch real easy and I’ve jerked him around too much lately. He does better when we are very consistent. Yeah, we all do. But it’s easier and more fun to look at him than me. He’s more charming.

Ideally we’d go back to eating dinner at closer to 5pm than 7pm. Doctors tell me I should be taking baths pretty much every night. Meditating is going well. It would be great if we turned the screens off after dinner and read/played with each other. We get plenty of screen time. It makes it harder for us to go to sleep if we have the screen on until bedtime. Yes, I’m as guilty as everyone else. I’m bad at moderation. The switch has to go on or off.

That is sounding like the kids and I can use screens between lunch and dinner and not really at other times during the day. That would limit me fucking up my arms. I’m doing better! I am!

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Oh! I touched base with a friend. She needs side work. I need someone to type for me so I don’t permanently disable myself. We are going to figure out (I am going to figure out) how to do voice recordings. I’m sure it isn’t complicated. I just need to google it. But I haven’t done it yet. I’ll do it. Noah has a nice microphone. Then I’ll send her the files and she will transcribe them and I will give her money and everyone will be happier. She has done this professionally and is fairly skilled. My squee is huge. I know so many competent, talented people. Want to know something funny? Pretty much all of them feel useless or incompetent. Y’all crack me the fuck up.

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Recently I’ve been asking women why they love themselves. I wrote down a list (ok two things) first. The first thing on my list and the first thing every woman has said so far: “I’m a good listener.”

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Ok. Dudettes. What is up with us. Why do we define our lovability in our ability to outwardly focus? WHAT IS UP WITH THAT?!

I mean… yes. It’s an awesome trait. I’m glad I have it. I’m glad y’all have it (hey… maybe that’s why you’re here) but! BUT! BUT!!!!

Why is that the first thing?

I deserve to love myself for something better than the fact that I listen carefully to people. I mean, yeah it’s a good thing to do and I’ll keep it up and all. Just like I don’t want my life to be devoted to my children I don’t want my life to be devoted to listening to other people.

Even though I want to grow up and listen to more stories about incest than anyone has ever listened to in the history of the world.

Even then.

That can’t be why I love me. No. I have to be bigger than that. I have to be something different than that. No. No. No.

That is not what I’m going to love about myself. I am not just a vessel for supporting other people.

That is not why I deserve love.

I mean, it may be related to why I am worth forgiving when I fuck up. Maybe. But it can’t be why I’m worthy of love.

Do you know what the second thing on my list is? (I’m kinda hoping it gets longer as the year goes on.)

I don’t hesitate.

It means I fuck up a lot. It means I do things very wrong and I have to be incredibly comfortable apologizing and groveling. But it means I get to do some tremendously cool shit.

I put an ad on Craigslist looking for women who have spare maternal energy. I found one. She was great. She’s my age with kids my age and she told me everything I would tell someone else. I liked her a lot. The second… wanted sexy times and then was sad when I said I didn’t want further contact even of a non-sexual nature. If that’s your opening I’m not in the place to have the boundaries you require of people. I’ll punch you. The third person is an 18 year old.

She is barely getting out of an abusive family. She’s dealing with a lot of guilt and shame. I spent the phone call trying to carefully phrase things as if I were saying them to myself while I was really trying to give her advice. I’m not going to spill her story. There are some parallels. Not that many, just a few. But it was easy for me to say, “I tell myself ______” when I really wanted to say, “Oh honey. You can’t ______.” I think that is a hilarious way to sidestep advice.

She said, “You really made me think.” She made me think too, not of what I wanted to think about, but she made me think anyway.

I don’t think I’m going to get mothered this lifetime. Do you know what mothering is supposed to do? It is supposed to catch you before you are ready and help you be ready for all the hard things that are going to come up in life.

It’s too late. It is clearer and clearer with every passing year. Giving that up is hurting so god damn badly.

Because you know what? I’m ready. It doesn’t matter what for. If I’m not ready today I can make a plan and be ready in a few months. Maybe a year or two if the plan is super complicated. But… I’m ready.

It is too late to be mothered.

What am I ready for?

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

Why do you bring reality into this relationship? Go straight to hell.

I’m ready to be where I am today. I’m ready to handle all of the problems that are going to come up right now. I’m not ready for everything I want to do in thirty years, but I have a plan. I’m in progress. I’m on schedule. In some places… I’m actually a little ahead.

I’m ready.

Oh.

Hey.

Maybe that is something to love about myself. Not just like. Love. Like the solid first thing on a list that will grow.

I love myself because I am ready. I am ready for anything. I can adapt or change or fuck up and fix it. No matter what it is.

Well, not no matter what.

There are relationships I can’t fix. I’m not G-d.

But you know what? I can grieve. I can move on. I don’t spend all of my days worrying about any particular wounding from the past. I can cycle through them. Cause I’m festive. But on most days I think about the future. I think about today. I don’t think that much about the past. Things come up and I’m working really hard on being ok with it coming up when it does. I am so out with people in the world. I’m kinda TMI on steroids. Sorrynotsorry.

Why?

Because lots of people come to me with questions, “So I know this person who has _____ problem”. It’s not that I have all the answers. I don’t. But I’m good at helping people imagine possible reasons why people are the way they are and what kinds of things might go well or poorly.

I don’t have all the answers. But I study like mad. Because I’m hard. I have to explain myself to people or they don’t get me at all.

Sometimes that’s hard. Why in the fuck do I have to write my own users guides?! Because no one else has spent enough time with me to be able to do so. And I’m a picky whiner.

I want to be treated how I want to be treated. So I persevere in explaining myself to the internet. I do not believe in the golden rule. I do not treat others as I want to be treated. Folks would be slapping my face. I try very hard to treat people how they want to be treated to the best of my ability to decipher.

I should hit post. It is time to go to dinner.