Monthly Archives: May 2019

Progress

And it’s pronounce pro-gress not prog-ress.

We met a nice lady solicitor in Aberdeen. It was a long day getting there and back and we missed the first train so everything felt more hectic and stressful than necessary. I was not nice to the kids as I mostly flailed myself for us missing the first train. I apologized of course, but that’s shitty of me.

Apologies bake no bread and all that.

I am running out of spoons for “don’t get frustrated and don’t ever let your creeping frustration impact anyone else in any way” without pot.

It’s coming to Scotland!

Anyway, nice solicitor lady. Other than being 100 miles away she seemed like she would be great to work with. I liked her attitude, her mannerisms, the way she answered questions, and the fact that everything we asked was met with an immediate answer and a flip to the page of her hand out where she was getting the answer. Noah’s first choice for visa is a new scheme so she had to look up a lot even though she’s been working with immigration for 12 years. There was one question where Noah had a different interpretation of the text but I think she clarified and got it right in the email follow up. Her rate is noticeably lower than the nice lady we worked with in Fremont so I don’t feel she is overly expensive.

We have one more solicitor interview to go through.

I didn’t do PT yesterday with being out of the house 12 hours. Deep sigh. I will get it done before I go out today. I am trying a new massage place. Fingers crossed. They list it as deep tissue and I did a 15 minute add on of “just my hands” so we’ll see.

I hurt so fucking bad it is hard not to curse all day long at speed. But my kids have asked that we all work on not cursing together because it is going to be a rough transition to school if they keep dropping f-bombs as casually as they do. Totally reasonable. Yes, we can do this together.

An ATM here charged me double but only gave me one set of cash. If I challenge it they will turn off my ATM card. I don’t have PINs for the other bank accounts. This is not so good. I should probably try to get PINs first then challenge it. Ugh. Or, I eat losing £200. Which is less stressful?

I am super weary. I’m glad it is Friday. This weekend is lightly booked. I have stuff today for body care. Tomorrow I am going to go out after supper to a munch to meet folks. (I’m going to have to taxi there and back because it’s later at night.) Munches are sitting in a chair and listening to other people brag about how exciting they are. It’s fairly low energy at this point. I’m not hunting and I’m not trying to catch up with old friends. I miss people. One person, Miss V has been at 90% of the munches I’ve ever been to and I miss her like an open aching wound. I don’t get the impression I am going to meet someone here quickly who is going to have her dynamic intense energy. That’s good and bad. I don’t have it in me to hero worship someone else like I do her at this point. But I miss her. I will miss the way she makes me feel yearning and love and admiration. She is so inspiring. I want to top. I want to bottom. I want to wallow in all the intense energy of power.

Sigh.

But, if I am going to make it here I am going to need friends other than just Jenny and I’m not a knitter. I can’t just make mommy-friends. I need to be a mostly in the closet freak for the sake of my kids, but perversion is absolutely bone deep in me. I need to know other kinky people. I just do. Even if I don’t have the spoons to do anything with it yet.

Bdsm is part of me. It is part of the background radiation of my life. I won’t walk into a party here and have the old timers tell the newbies to back off and let me do whatever I want… but I can make lower key friendships. I can get to know people. They will never witness the full bloody insanity I used to engage in and that’s ok. I don’t think there is space for that here anyway. Not in public.

Noah and I will figure out a public persona together. That will be healthy.

Frankly it will be good for me not to be leaning on the full throated ferocity I established as a teenager and young 20-something. I can’t live up to that any more. Not because I am less perverted, but because my body can’t take it. Damnit.

There is almost no bdsm education culture here! I see a niche… We’ll see!

Aberdeen had decently tasty Mexican food. Their “4 chili” level spicy was nothing to burn a mouth, but hey. If I go back I will ask for double the habanero and maybe there is a way to get some actual heat. I don’t think the Scots in general like to burn their mouths in the same way. Which is interesting because I had a vindaloo that left me with intense burn the next day. It was lovely.

I used to have a stick up my butt about not eating Mexican food outside of California because it always tasted wrong. Then I went to Mexico and found out that Californians do it wrong. Now I am more keen to try the variations I can get all over. We live and learn, yo.

I get to have pot in at most 18 days. I am feeling utterly grateful right now. I feel worn to the bone. I haven’t had any in 3.5 months.

ack, bye

PT

I did it. I haven’t done the dilation yet. It takes privacy. I should have done it in the bath tub but frankly I am feeling overwhelmed with all the “must do” stuff. I made seven phone calls today. Only four of them turned out to be useful. (Two important confirmations; two appointments with solicitors.)

I feel on the verge of tears. I go through cycles of dealing with my feelings around disability. But the plain truth is I have been in pain for almost 30 years. I need to give zero fucks what anyone else thinks about how I live with that. But I’m not there. I feel ashamed. I feel like I am stupid and pathetic and I should shut up and just work harder.

But I would be this degraded if I had stopped working harder years ago.

It’s a Catch 22.

When Her Sweetness wakes up we will walk over to Jenny’s. I will put one, maybe two plants in the ground because that makes my soul feel better. I will decide after the first one how my arms feel. Middle Child will get to play with his cousins. We will get in our daily walk going one way and we will take a taxi back. We shouldn’t stay very many hours. Tomorrow will be an incredibly long day going to Aberdeen to meet a solicitor. But, this is the process.

Do it.

Rough morning.

Go to sleep crying, wake up crying. Why not.

Noah wanted me to listen to a chapter of this Buddhist book he gets a lot of value from. The point (very roughly) is that pain and discomfort are lessons and you shouldn’t hide from them you should face them.

But I can’t really get over hearing this from the point of view of being a person who has degenerative, chronic health problems. If I spend all of my time thinking about how much pain I am in I am going to spend my life walking around weeping. And then I am very unpleasant and uncomfortable to be around and people won’t like me very much. I made breakfast pretty shitty because I couldn’t stop crying.

Noah is very much looking forward to retirement. It will mean that he no longer has to do boring work for a pay check and he can instead do fun work for free. He can help people who cannot afford to pay him.

I am looking forward to decades of decreasing ability where I can do less and less of tasks that are basic to keeping me alive and I definitely can’t do any fun extra work because it will hurt my body and decrease my longevity.

I would kill a dog who was in as much pain as I am in. It would be cruel to keep them alive to suffer.

But I need to do everything possible to extend my life. Which means I need to do less work that gives me any pride in myself. I need to do less work that has any physical cost. My coach person was going through lists of things including moving wet laundry from the washer to the dryer and talking about how I need to weigh these costs and think about whether it is worth decreasing my long-term functionality so I really just shouldn’t do any of these things.

But I should spend a lot more time being fully present with how much pain I am. Watching stupid tv to pass time and distract myself from crying… somehow makes me a lesser person. I’m on a full on self-pity trip today, lemme tell you.

I am on palliative care until I die. Most people don’t enter palliative care until they have a few months to live. I am supposed to be doing everything I can to turn this into 30 or 40 or 50 years of life.

Because I owe my family that.

My buddy is right that it’s pretty stupid for us to look at big pretty houses with room for enormous gardens and lots of space to pick up and tidy and clean.

That will shorten my life.

When we have a house I do need to immediately hire help. Or I will shorten my life.

She asked me how many years I think I have left at this functionality. I don’t know. I am in a much worse place than I was 10 years ago. I already demur a lot of activities. I need to spend less time with Jenny than I have so far because it wears me out.

Not because she is bad. I really love her and I’m glad I’m here. I’m glad I will get to spend my declining years getting as much of her company as I can physically handle. But the amount I can handle is lower than what I’ve been doing. My pain levels are absolutely through the roof right now.

And I feel ashamed. I feel stupid. I feel bad. I feel useless. I feel like I can’t do anything right. I am supposed to work and I am supposed to not work. I am supposed to do things that make me feel good about myself and I am not supposed to waste spoons.

When we go to Portland I can’t bebop around spending lots of time with everyone I love. I need to see people once or twice a week and that’s it. Especially for the first three weeks when I am alone with the kids and I have to do all the grown up work. I don’t have anything left over to give to friends and that hurts.

Yeah, I need to do the PT exercises more religiously so I preserve what strength I have left. But there is no more regaining of strength. I’m not really ever going to improve. I’m just trying to slow the rate of decline.

I am feeling incredibly bad about myself today. What is the point of spending this much money on help and being this idle so that I can extend my life?

I would kill a dog who was in this much pain.

PT

I did most of the non TRX stuff yesterday and all the TRX stuff today. I punted a little on the inverted row with knees bent. I did one rep instead of three. It was my last one and I haven’t done these exercises in months.

I am so fucking tired.

But my joints feel slightly less locked than they did when I first got started. I know I need to do this. It hurts. It is hard.

But. I did it. The only PT exercise I haven’t done at all yet is dilation. I will try to do it in the morning. I’m only going to do that one every three days. It’s really emotionally hard.

I do want to live as long as I can to stay with my family. I know I have to do this.

Let me find my crystal ball.

“How long do you think you have at the current level of physical function, and are you taking that into account as you look at the next x years of your life. That house seems to have a lot of steps, for example. Besides getting more rest because you consciously rest, are you thinking about how your environment impacts you in the long term? For example- in our new house we put a 3/4 bath on the main level, and planned a path to retrofit an elevator if necessary in the future. The doorways were planned to be wheelchair friendly on the main level. We’ve had enough short- medium term health things that have required avoiding stairs to know how important that is. Are you planning for the house to help you be in less pain?”

This is a hard one. I have absolutely no way of predicting when my body is going to fail. But yes, I need to be planning around a ground floor bedroom for me even if everyone else is up stairs. No doctors have been able to give me a timeline on my failing body. Frankly mostly they express shock that I am still moving.

I’m not planning around this how I should be.

I need to be honest that the reason I can handle coping with this apartment only being cleaned to the level the kids and Noah want to clean it is because it is half the space we are used to and we are leaving soon so the corners of muck aren’t my problem.

I am way past the point where some rest is going to restore my vitality. My vitality is gone. I am playing a losing game until I die. But will that be a fast five years or thirty years of a slow but steady decline? Will I last fifty years?

I don’t know. I know that my great grandmother was considered too mean to die. I like to think I will live long enough to be a torment to my grand children. I’ll be the grandmother who says no and means it. Ha.

I’m actually finding this upsetting to think about. I don’t know how long I will have this level of functionality. I know that keeping as much movement as possible in my day to day life will increase how long I keep this level of function. Any movement in the direction of being sedentary causes me problems. The more I sit the more I hurt. Stairs are a mixed bag but walking upwards of three miles a day really helps. My hips hurt, but they hurt more when they are locked.

I’m really sad thinking about the ticking time bomb of my body.

I travel like I do right now because I will almost certainly not be able to do this when I am old.

This is why I hired her

“What makes you so special as to not need the same care and consideration as other people? (And I don’t mean the experiences you have had, I mean what do you think is intrinsically so special about you that you don’t need care and consideration. I don’t so much care what other people have told you as what you tell yourself at this point)”

Well, fuck. Thanks for putting me on the spot. Hahaha. Uhm, err…

Ok, this is actually kind of hard to admit and I feel awkward and stupid and silly. I do actually think I am special. I do actually think I am tougher and stronger than other people. I keep going and I keep working long after other people stop because they “can’t” any more. I mean… other people have phrased this in ways that I like and that I agree with, “You have all the force of personality as a star being born.” Yup. I mother fucking do. (Sometimes people say nice things to me in addition to shitty things.)

I believe I am capable of working no matter how much pain or distress I am in. There is a point where I slow down and there is a point that I stop but that point is long long long past the point when all medical tests say I should have stopped months or years ago. I am absolutely freakishly strong. It’s not that I can dead lift more than other people (I can’t) it is that I have a single minded focus and ability to put aside all care for myself and WORK. I am not always a nice person when I do this.

I believe this is part of how my ancestors, who were frankly despised folk a lot of the time, kept surviving when lots of folk wished them dead. We can put our heads down and work and make it through and fuck you very much.

My medical support team (there are a lot of people in it) have been trying to talk me into doing less for literal years. They have been pointing out the growing irreversible damage and hoping that noting this will slow me down. It has had… some effect on my behavior. But then I pick up a project and blow through things like you wouldn’t believe.

Some folks have asked me if they could hire me to do art in their houses. I said no. The way I work is extremely deleterious to my body and you can’t pay me enough to cover the medical care I need to survive it so I can’t give that labor to you and put the strain on my family. It’s not fair.

Why do I take such pride in cleaning my own stupid house? Because when people walk in and gasp and say “Oooooh, I can’t believe how clean and tidy and inviting your house is” I swell with pride. I did that.

I feel like if I am paying someone else to do the cleaning I don’t have as much right to the pride. I want that pride so badly.

My mom spent a lot of my childhood crying because she didn’t have the time or energy or money to have a home she could be proud of. That was a major wound for her. In some way I feel like I take so much pride in my space because I am trying to heal that wound, that isn’t even exactly my own.

But you and Jenny and Pam are right. Paying house cleaners is cheaper than paying for physical therapy and massage and chiropractic care and acupuncture and therapy for my kids after I have hysterically screamed at them to clean their shit up.

This sense of pride really has to evolve. I am struggling with that. It is hurting me and my family at this point.

I can hold on to being nice when my pain level is consistently above a 5. It’s hard and it takes effort, but I can. When my pain levels are higher than that [meaning a lower number on this scale] (I like this scale: https://www.theacpa.org/wp-content/uploads/2017/08/Life_Scale_3.pdf ) I don’t hold on to being nice very well. I don’t do very well when I can’t do work. I feel bad about myself.

Like, I should have tapped out of the road trip long before it finished. I was at the point of having a black ring around my vision because I was damaging my body so much that it was impacting my ability to see. I was a bitch. I had no patience. I slapped my daughter when she sat down to rest and I thought we needed to finish work before I got to rest so her sitting there casually was an absolute affront. I am not saying that to be prideful. Slapping her was wrong. But I don’t hit my kids on the regular. That was a major department from my normal control.

I need to change my perception of my ability to work because I need to not get to that point again.

What do I tell myself that makes me so special? Why do I deserve less care and consideration? I tell myself that I am a tool. A tool with an absolutely absurd ability to accomplish work. And you don’t love your tool. You use them up and throw them away. The trouble is that my family really does love me. They don’t want me to be thrown away. They want me to be around for decades. If I continue to damage my body like this… I won’t be. It’s just a simple, literal fact.

“In my own struggle with ADD I’ve learned that sometimes wanting to change the system is just a distraction from whatever I’m trying to actually get done. It’s a handy distraction I can really get involved in and suck up all my time instead of just doing the other things. I consider it a red flag to get too bogged down in reworking the system. Not that l don’t ever change it, but I try and wait to work on the system till after I’ve pressed forward on the thing I’ve been avoiding. If I still want to change it, I will, but often I don’t want to any more”

I know what you mean. My problem is that a lot of things are falling through the cracks right now because for years I had an excellent white board system that kept me from forgetting up coming stuff and currently I am trying to write things down on paper and then I never look at that piece of paper again and… that’s a problem. I do need a system. I am not able to have a wall system while we travel.

I am trying to set up Omni Focus (a computer based tracking system Noah loves) because I am on my computer and this lets me set up things with greatly delayed notifications so everything doesn’t feel like “Do it today or it will never get done.” Yes, in some way it is a distraction but it is also solving an actual problem I’m having right now. I’m struggling with keeping all the various levels of schtuff in a place where I go back and look at it. It’s been a problem for the past six months since we took the white boards down. A lot of things have fallen through the cracks. The kids are doing ok with their level of commitment on paper, my task lists are really complex and have many sub layers. I need a new system. It’s not a distraction it is important.

Also, I am an organization nerd and I am having fun thinking through whether things are parallel, sequential, or single action. That’s a useful way for me to process the things that are going on for me. It’s also forcing me to think through things like: physical therapy isn’t “one more stupid thing to do” it is mandatory for me to feel good and be happy. It is solving a major life goal because I can’t be a good mother or a good wife or a good friend if I feel bad and I am miserable.

Cleaning the table after meals is one more stupid thing to do.

Getting shoes that don’t rub me raw and give me terrible blisters in the rain is not one more stupid thing to do. It’s part of making sure I feel good so I can be happy.

It’s useful to try and tell the difference between these tasks? I’m trying to think about tasks in terms of what goals are they serving. I don’t think I have done that in this way before. The web copy on the Omni Focus website is absolutely nauseating in how it phrases things but it isn’t wrong. Mind mapping my goals in life is really important. Thinking through how my behavior enables or supports or inhibits different goals is really important.

Like: I truly want to rewrite Outrunning Suicide before the kids start school. I would like to co-write it with them. That means I have 14 months. So I’d better figure out how to schedule that work now. Or I will run out of time and never get around to it. I want to write a book that is teaching life and coping skills for kids in their current age bracket. I can’t think of better co-writing partners. (I briefly mentioned to them quite some time ago that I would really appreciate doing this and they said they would really want to help me do this. Both kids want to help with the phrasing and with illustrations.)

I have a lot of things I get distracted by in my head. It’s useful to be able to map it out, put a due date on it and stop thinking about it until it is time to think about it. Right now with the paper method I am having to keep thinking about it or I will forget entirely and never do it. So we’ll see.

Thank you for challenging me.

PT

I did all of the band exercises. I’m jimmy rigging one of them because the original band broke and I’m using the one I have left for all of them. So now I can do one arm at a time instead of doing them in tandem. My shoulders are in bad shape. The grinding was absolutely gross to hear. Adhesions R Us.

Bird dogs

Rock backs (I don’t know what this is actually called.)

Wall sits

Squats

Other yoga-tastic stretches to loosen up my hips and shoulders.

Neck stretches

My wrists are in absolutely terrible shape. Bird dogs hurt.

I can’t list stretches. I am bad at remembering the names. But I spent half an hour working out my body after we did about 2.6 miles walking today. (My tracker shut the fuck off so I don’t know precisely how far we went but I know how far the store is.)

If you want to feel better…

This lady who is coaching me is really awesome. She’s a no bull shit person. She is a horse trainer (so she’s used to trying to get animals to change their behavior without being able to talk them into it) and she has recovered from a TBI so she deeply understands the frustration of being disabled and not able to just do for yourself the things you want to and are used to being able to do for yourself.

She has some good suggestions about how to manage home schooling stuff that we can’t do exactly how she did it with her family for logistical reasons but I can take inspiration and we can adapt to our circumstance and we will see how her system works. It involves a lot more of the kids getting to free wheel picking their schedule Monday-Thursday and Friday and Saturday have to be available for punting and not doing fun things because you haven’t earned them.

That’s complicated for me because I like making advance plans with Jenny and her family but if my kids have behaved in a way that we can’t go, I feel like I am punishing Jenny’s family. I’m not. That’s not the point. But my kids have to get their stuff done and they have to learn how to take responsibility for it and part of learning responsibility is you don’t get the fun end-of-week pleasures if you haven’t earned them.

I will have to work on my feelings here as much as the kids will have to work on their behavior. I’m not punishing anyone if my kids have to stay home on Saturday to do their work because they haven’t done it during the week. That’s my kids choosing that screwing around Monday-Friday was more important to them than seeing their cousins. That’s not MY CHOICE.

It is not my responsibility to force my kids or bribe my kids through doing their day-by-day work so that they can have fun pleasures. That’s a fucked up dynamic, yo.

That’s not a good preparation for life.

We can’t do the white board/magnet solution that she used. But we can tape an extra piece of paper over their day planner week with the master list of assignments for the week. They can cross things off and write them down on the day they got them done so they can track their progress. I like the idea of having brief check ins at dinner Monday-Thursday to ask how things are going without being controlling or pissy. Friday and Saturday are tentative scheduled things. “If everything is done then we can go to…”

It is a level of bribery but it isn’t minute by minute day by day bribery. The Friday outings will be more academic and the Saturday ones will be more social. (Other social activities aren’t possible on Friday without a home schooling community.)

She wants me to have a master list of my chores that I’m supposed to get done as well. Resting is supposed to be on it. PT exercises. I am supposed to try to develop the discipline to not go help the kids if my taking care of myself isn’t done.

Given that I am currently gritting my teeth and counting the days until I get back to pot because my entire body is on fire with pain…

My current method of coping is not sustainable.

A couple of days ago I had a lively conversation with friends about cleaning ones own house. It was interesting how the motivation to clean up ones own house is not related to salary/house hold income but often about perceived by the self social class. I very strongly view myself as not the type of person who pays other people to do my work for me. It’s not about if I can afford it (I can and Noah wishes we would) but it’s more emotional. It’s about a lot of lectures from my mother about people who won’t clean their houses being lazy. It’s about my sister being utterly unwilling to clean her house to the point of living in squalor. It’s about my overweening lack of self regard. I don’t deserve to have help with basic chores. I should fucking do this work myself because I already take more resources than I deserve.

*sigh*

But I can’t keep doing this much work. My body is degrading faster over the years. Medical care at this point is bailing water instead of fixing the hole in the boat.

I feel really bad about my body needing help.

It isn’t that I judge other people negatively when they get help. I massively supportive when Sarah could finally afford to get cleaning help. I could easily see that she needed it. I can see how my other friends benefit and it adds positive to their lives to get such support.

But I don’t feel like I deserve such support. This is a really hard conversation to have because I don’t ever want to make it sound like I think other people don’t deserve the help and almost any way of framing this conversation has a blast radius of people interpreting my self worth as applying to my opinion of them. That fucking sucks, yo.

It’s kind of like how sometimes my brother Tommy would rage until he literally blacked out because he was so frustrated with requiring help for basic body hygiene. He fucking hated himself because he couldn’t feed himself or do a lot to dress himself or brush his hair or or or or or.

He would burn the shit out of his mouth drinking boiling drinks because having someone else help him and cool it off offended him so much. He got blisters. He injured himself because he didn’t want any more help than the absolute bare minimum.

I am stupid like that.

I know it is stupid.

I know.

I know it is self hating.

I know.

Noah is trying to make deals with me about the rate at which I pick up projects once we move here. I am going to have to write this timeline out or I will “forget” and start doing work I shouldn’t be doing.

I am really freaked out that cleaning is something I probably really should outsource as I am adapting to permanently living without pain meds.

Well, until I can get medical pot in Scotland. It’s coming!

I genuinely don’t respond well to other pain meds. The pain specialist believes my next step is oxycontin and I don’t want it.

I think I will be willing to accept that as a pain reliever when I believe death is imminent. Until then, I prefer having my brain; thank you.

But my entire body is on fire. How much do I believe that is allowed to matter? I don’t know. I’m going to cry as I think about it. Every joint. Many areas are explosions of nerve pain. My neck. My back.

I don’t have a headache though, so no Ibuprofen. That’s the line. As long as I can think, no Ibuprofen. I need it to work in emergencies and if I use it all the time it won’t.

That sense of triage is very hard to live with.

Took a break. Did morning hygiene, went on a walk to the store to get the things we noticed we messed up on the grocery order (it’s a minimum of 2.5 miles round trip so that’s not terrible), and did goals for the kids for the academics for the week.

I am thinking that I will try to get my PT stuff done during nap time. I need to get a template going for myself of tasks. Really I need to figure out something like Noah’s insane Omnifocus stuff but… that takes spoons too. I will start with it on paper.

The problem with paper is that when I kind of forget about it for a while… I forget about it in a semi-permanent way. The computer thing popping up will maybe be harder to ignore? I don’t know.

I will keep thinking about the cleaning hiring out. For now, changing apartments every few months + the kids doing most of it and Noah doing part of it means that I’m not actually doing that much. Yes I still need to be doing less because of how much pain I am in.

This is a process.

Medication and medical care.

It was occurring to me this morning that I’m doing surprisingly well for the level of medical care I have been receiving. It helps that I am very consciously doing less. There is less cleaning on the road. I am not gardening much. I am not running around socializing as much as I did in CA and I don’t feel the internal pressure to be helping my neighbors. (I loved my neighbors–don’t get me wrong. But I put a lot of pressure on myself to show up for them when I should have been sitting at home resting.)

Noah agrees that I am doing very well at not exploding. I am not crying all the time. That’s really good.

am in tremendous pain. But instead of continuing to do lots of work anyway I am going limp. My arms are doing quite badly. My back and hips hurt so much that I am gritting my teeth a lot of the time. That’s not great.

But I am doing incredibly well at not taking it out on anyone else. Given how poorly I feel… I am proud of myself. I am doing quite well at keeping my poop in a group. I have not been screaming. I have not even been shouting much. I am quiet a fair bit. I alternate between mild exercise (I need to be doing my PT and I’m not) and a lot of resting/talking to the family.

The apartment is absolutely always less tidy than I would like. I am choosing to watch extra Netflix instead of cleaning it up because I need to not do more to wear myself out.

I am being a grown up. It’s kind of weird.

I am having some mood swings. I absolutely always feel like I “should” be doing better. But all in all I’m not doing shittily. How long have I been doing ok? I don’t know. Hard to judge.

Handing off the externalized brain

Question: “Kids self motivation/executive functioning/need for control- how do you do the schedule for the week? Do you personally just make it up in your head and dole it out? Talk about it as a family? Once a week? Every morning? How do the kids get input? How to you decide what’s happening? How is it communicated to the kids in an ongoing way?”

We have, of course, tried a whole bunch of different ways of setting up their task list. We all have a lot of resentment over having worked with the charter school because both kids sat down and gamed out a whole year of curriculum for themselves (long-term planning around projects, how subjects would be evaluated after study, and what books/methods they would utilize to pursue different educational goals) and the Educational Specialist said “Wow you are my only family who actually did all the required work.” We are really bitter. The kids super struggle with “What is the point” after that experience.

For a while post-charter school I insisted on continuing to follow a long-term planning method and the kids just dug in their feet with a big “Fuck it.” No matter how much they had scheduled they did less and less of the work they were supposed to do. Not because it was too hard, not because they couldn’t… they would rather stare at a wall and get punished because “What is the point”.

So over the course of this year we have gotten less and less structured because they are really bitter and long-term planning was truly killing their love of learning. This is tricky on a variety of levels because my kids previously had a really deep love of learning and trying to jump over hoops for the sake of jumping over hoops made them burned out and bitter.

What we are doing now is sitting down on Monday with a day planner and talking through “What would you like to learn this week?” They still have a variety of learning methods and subjects they cover. It is not consistent from week to week. Some weeks they do a lot of math and some weeks basically none. Some weeks they work on other languages a lot and some weeks they barely touch it. Some weeks they study a lot of history stuff. Some weeks they ask for a lot of science documentaries. Some weeks it is tons of art history and drawing practice.

I have been trying really hard to let them set their goals. I don’t decide how much work they have to do. But once we spend an hour sitting together and planning they need to do it. I am really rigorous about follow through. It’s ok to set a few small goals. It’s ok to set big goals. You will do the work you lay out for yourself. Some weeks their work takes them an hour a day and some weeks it takes closer to four hours a day. I think this practice is important because they are learning what amount of time things take them. They are learning how to take into consideration “We have x plans and we will be tired after them so what do we want to do the next day?”

They track what chores they do and their homework in day planners. We have tried a bunch of other methods and this is the way they can be most consistent. Doing it online did not work out at all.

“Let’s talk about some systems that would give him more control over his time right now, there isn’t a need to wait for a house. With both of the older children you are in the throws of the transition from parenting young children to parenting teenagers. It’s not an easy time. So much managing, so much letting go, so many balances to get right.”

They control most of their time. They decide when they are going to get their stuff done. I am available to help with academics until around 1/2 in the afternoon and if you haven’t gotten your stuff done at that time you need to do

I ask questions like “Are you sure you can get all that done in two hours?” (Our purported goal for academic work in a day.) I will say things like “You haven’t done any (subject) in a while. Do you think maybe adding some this week would be good so you don’t forget?” Sometimes they agree and add some and sometimes they say they say they really don’t want to and I let it go.

I am big on project based learning. I am really into things like them drawing a comic book about a historical topic which means they have to do a bunch of research so they can explain what was going on. They’ve done different programming projects (EC made a really neat animated music video… that was taken down because she picked a song with a swear word. *smack forehead*)

We have a bunch of different approaches to math and they kind of move around and through them. They are not linear in their approach and this is going pretty well at this point. Text books were killing them.

House chores are renegotiated every so often (sometimes weekly, sometimes every few months, sometimes when we move). I list of what chores have to be done and they volunteer to do what they want to do. At this point they are getting paid for their chores and that is a mixed incentive. They are more prone to get up and do their chores without asking (which is great!) because they get a monetary penalty for me having to nag. But there are days when they just don’t care and say “I don’t care about earning any money today.” Last night I told MC that it was great that he didn’t want to get paid for his chores, he still got to do them and I just wouldn’t have to pay him. He said that sucked. I grinned. (It was about 10 minutes of basic tidying after dinner. He had been out of the house for about 28 hours. It was a good plan for him to do a chore even though he didn’t want to. He drops habits easily and doesn’t like picking them up.)

(Fuck. I lost a chunk of text here and recreating it is hard. Or it moved around and now this is repetitive? I don’t know. I need to get off the computer and I don’t have enough brain to fix it.)

I wait around in the mornings to help them. If they haven’t done it by 1/2 in the afternoon I say you must do it on your own because I have moved on to doing my own work and you don’t get to interrupt me to help you at that point. I kind of hang out doing interruptible stuff in the mornings so that they can have academic support at need. They pick what academics they do. They pick when they do chores. They pick which chores they are responsible. But once they say “X is my responsibility for the week” I hold them to it even if they kind of change their mind by Thursday. You can entirely renegotiate on Monday.

“They also need to be allowed to develop long term planning skills. Like multi step projects, using to calendar, lots of ways to encourage it if you’re afraid they are having trouble.”

They absolutely can do this. But the charter school made them bitter. The ES put together their portfolio to hand in to the state before they were done with their projects and she said she didn’t care about seeing the end results. They were completely fucking crushed. It hurt them so much. They worked so hard and she acted like the end result was pointless. They internalized that in damaging ways. But they know how to break a project down over months. They know how to plan it out on a calendar and they can do that like 80% independently. My job is mostly to say “I think you need to build in buffer time here, here, and here because projects always run over.”

“I’m going to caution you about your use of the term “self esteem”. Doing work for other people and thinking that makes it ok to take resources is a transactional relationship. “Self esteem” is valuing yourself because you are an individual who deserves to be valued, regardless of her productivity. You don’t have to pay for your existence. If you and Noah used to scorekeep, that’s just an additional layer of transactional. You’re still scorekeeping, it’s just more about yourself. That needs to be let go.”

I am super duper achingly transactional. I had to earn my keep in foster homes or I was kicked out. This is absolutely bone deep. I know it is a problem and I do not know how to let it go. I really struggle with my growing disability. I have bought my friendships over many years and I don’t know how to trust that they will continue if I don’t do work.

I don’t know how to let that go.

You are right that EC needs to learn how to come and ask for help with stuff instead of me volunteering the help. That’s going to be hard on both of us. But we are definitely to the point where I am enabling her not having to learn how to ask for help. MC does get more practice with deciding which of his emotions to share and he is better about speaking up when he is distressed as a result.

“Exercise, rest, your projects and things you want to get done in this life- I want to hear more about how you guys plan your time so I can help with that.”

We have different seasons. Sometimes a season lasts weeks and sometimes months or a whole year. I’m definitely in the multipotentialite realm. We have some goals as a family and we sit down and game them out (like travel. We have long conversations about where to go and why) and we each have our separate goals. Exercise comes and goes for a lot of reasons. When I am pregnant… my body decides that the parasite is the only thing I can support and as the pregnancy progresses I spend more and more time in a chair and everyone else struggles to cope with that. When I overdo and my body decides it is time for a long rest period whether I like it or not, everyone else slows down too.

We like going for long walks as a family. We tend to split into pairs and have intense chats. It’s really nice. We all come home from walks happy and feeling connected. (Which pairs changes sometimes by the week or month or day. We rotate a lot.) When one person is injured (like MC twisting her knee on the way into Japan) everyone else tends to slow to a stop. We are not good at leaving someone behind.

The PT exercises I am supposed to do take time, space, and focus. I often struggle to find all three at a time. I have not been consistent about doing them since we left California and I can tell that my body is degrading again from the strength I had built up.

We alternate between planning things out on paper or sending emails back and forth to track planning conversations for longer term stuff. The kids really like email planning conversations because they give the kids a feeling of importance.

My projects are kind of dumped on the family every so often. I found my old pictures! I cried with joy. Proof of all the huge house art projects, the gardening progression, the marathon training, all the places we travel to…

Sometimes I sort of ditch folks for a few weeks and expect them to just keep going without me. Like when I was laying out tile for the bathroom. I… didn’t do much directing or helping with homework for a bit. Get your chores done. I’m busy. The kids still did the vast majority of their stuff but some things fell through the cracks and I had to just accept that.

I read a book when I was first preparing for teaching. It explained that the very best teachers don’t have to be present in their classroom every single day and their students keep on learning without them. This was how I handled teaching and this is how I try to handle parenting. I teach a lot of structure, rhythm, and routine. Now you keep it up whether I am standing over you glaring or whether I am busy, ok? But pretty much everyone in my family has ADD. (MC was not diagnosed but the evaluator spent 15 minutes talking to him in his favorite “You are giving me all of your attention” environment and that was not very useful as an evaluation.) Look a squirrel is a big problem. But we all form new systems and follow them for a while really easily. We just want to change the system frequently or we get bored. Thus planning every Monday because longer than that gets boring.

We have layers of systems. There are hygiene/sleep layers. We have exercise patterns (morning/afternoon or what kind we are doing for a while). We have food preparation/planning/eating/cleaning up systems. We have academic/learning goals and methods. There are chore patterns.

The trouble is triage. How do you keep the same priority system over a truly long period of time? We do various shuffling based on why something becomes more or less important for a while. Consistency is not our strongest suit but we aren’t that bad either.

I worked with a lot of families as a teacher. We truly aren’t that bad. But getting us back on track isn’t my easiest work and I struggle with resenting it.

Our sleep cycles drift a lot with light patterns. We stay up much later (more like 9) in the summer and in the winter I am often in bed around 7pm. Breakfast is usually around 8am except when it isn’t. I struggle with feeling like flexibility is good and feeling like flexibility is bad.

So tl;dr the kids do their own planning in many parts of their lives. They buy their own clothes with a set budget. They figure out how to spend their money for school supplies and books. (Previously these were just set parts of the budget and now they are trying to earn how much money they get so they can decide how to spend a larger chunk of money at a time.) They set a lot of their socializing schedule with other people but sometimes they get dragged to what I want to do.

They have more control over their lives than I ever had until I was basically an adult. I struggle with this not being enough.

Homework (what do I need to work on)

This morning I am waking up feeling gooey, schmoopy, overwhelming love for my family. Ok. Time to think about the stuff I need to work on about myself.

What are the whack a mole problems that come up? Many of them are problems in me and related to my thinking as much or more as they are rooted in anyone else’s behavior. Like: I really struggle with feeling like I want/need my kids to be more self motivated than they are. Then I get these reminders that they are actually really doing exceptionally well for their ages and developmental levels and my expectations are almost certainly out of whack. My kids have different things they struggle with: my son tends towards passive aggression and my daughter tends towards executive function failures. Ok. That’s not out of line with fairly normal stuff for kids. What I need to work on in myself is feeling more patience with the fact that they struggle in these areas and I have chosen to not put them into school where there would be teams of other adults teaching them how to manage these issues. I choose to be the one who must solve these problems or it is my fault they still exist. Sometimes I struggle with feeling overwhelmed about the magnitude of difficulty of work I have assigned myself. But it isn’t my children’s fault that I assigned myself this role.

The thing is, even though I struggle with some of their behaviors sometimes… I truly like my children and I feel like I have done well turning them into little people to be proud of. It has been the result of massive, overwhelming work on my part. I watch my children night and day and give them little course corrections, assistance, reminders, and help. NO FUCKING WONDER THEY TREAT ME LIKE THEIR EXTERNALIZED BRAIN. I can look at my Eldest Child and tell what she is thinking about with a greater than 90% accuracy rate. “You are having x feeling about y thing. Do you think maybe you should do z?” Her response is always “HOW CAN YOU DO THAT?!?!?! That’s a good suggestion…..”

I only guess my Middle Child’s thoughts and feelings with a more like 40% accuracy rate and he and I both feel a sting because of that. He consciously and deliberately shields his thoughts more. He works on having a blank facial expression. He works on projecting feelings he is not having. He got that from me. I feel like I am letting him down by not being able to read him better. He feels misunderstood and less appreciated. But he works on making it hard. He wants me to find a way to work harder and still read him so that he can feel as understood as EC. That’s complicated.

He got in trouble this week. He set his assignments on Monday. I didn’t add extra shit. He picked what he wanted to do for the week. He needed to get his work done on Thursday so we could go have a visit with the cousins. He didn’t get his work done. I was pissy and impatient because he really didn’t come close and he spent the whole day dawdling and I lost out on a visit too. (I can’t just leave him home and go without him for a list of reasons.) So I told him that since he wanted to just sit around and not get his work done during work time that he could just sit around and do nothing during play time and he could do it in his room without toys. He didn’t have a fun day.

The next morning when he woke up he had a fire in his belly because he didn’t want to miss out on any of his plans or on EC’s birthday fun. He got up super motivated. He got a bunch of his chores done before I even saw him in the morning. The first time I saw him in the morning was when I was waking up and still sitting in bed. He came in timidly and I smiled at him and invited him into the bed for morning snuggle. (We have much better days as a family when we start out with everyone snuggling for at least a few minutes.) He talked about his plan for getting everything done early so that he had a buffer in case he planned poorly and it took longer than he intended.

He got everything done with time to spare.

We walked over to Jenny’s instead of going on a family walk and taking a taxi. On the way we had an hour to talk to each other. The conversation was wide ranging and interesting. I asked him what he thought about the day before when he was in trouble. He said he spent most of the time trying not to think. I said, “So kind of an extended meditation practice?” He said yeah. He didn’t use the word, but he was trying to not catastrophize. He said (barely paraphrased), “I was so grateful that the first thing you did when you saw me this morning was smile at me. It showed me for sure that I was right to try not to think all the super bad thoughts. I made a mistake and I’m going to be able to get over it and you will get over it and we will move on.” I told him that yeah we will move on. He’s a great kid and I love him very much and I need him to trust me. So when I say “Do x so you can have y” if he doesn’t do x he can’t have y.

He said, “I know. It’s part of why I respect you a lot. I know you work really hard at being someone who is honest with me every day.”

I have a lot of fear that part of his passive aggression is an attempt to get back some control from just how controlling I am. It’s not a healthy way to try to get back some of that control. He has a lot more control over his schooling now, but I think he needs to have just a little bit more. I think that when we get a house again he and EC are going to be allowed to shut me out of their rooms for a full year so they can figure out their own tidying habits without me needing to be so fucking controlling because we are packing over and over.

I truly literally have to be this controlling right now or we won’t be able to get packing done with the travel. It’s rough.

When this is no longer necessary I need to give them a bunch of space to try things for themselves and fail.

I really struggle with the fact that they don’t have much in the way of long-term planning skills… but that’s my problem because they are age appropriate or a bit above. I need to control *myself* more, not them in this area.

We have done a lot of work on getting them to see me as an independent person. Frankly, having Her Sweetness has helped. They can see when I need to not take care of them because I have other obligations and both of the big kids are super mature about understanding that they got to be the whole center of my universe for many years and it is wildly uncool for them to not let Her Sweetness have a similar amount of time and energy. We are still struggling on getting them to let me rest without interruption, but they are better than they used to be and if I were willing to set more boundaries I think they would fall into line.

The struggle is I hate setting boundaries with them because that feels like I am doing a mean/punishing thing. I’m not. I’m valuing myself.

I really struggle with valuing myself. I really struggle with saying, “I need to not do anything for anyone because I have to take care of myself.” I think I went to so many doctor visits because every time I walked into an office the medical practitioner would freak out about how badly my body was doing and give me a tiny little bit of support so I could go back and do more work than I am truly physically capable of doing. I’m not going to have that medical team keeping me on life support here.

I have to value myself enough to say no way more and that’s hard. I get so much of my self esteem from doing things for people. From doing work and supporting people I gain the sense that it’s ok for me to keep taking resources for myself because I am sharing as much as I get or more. But this isn’t sustainable.

I don’t actually think the problem is with my kids behaving badly. They are really amazing children. I think the problem is me valuing myself and my need for rest. I absolutely literally require more down time than I give myself. I have to exercise in a fairly regimented way and I haven’t been doing it because I am exhausting myself providing emotional care for other people. That’s not healthy or a good way to be a role model.

I don’t want to teach my kids to be how I am. Which means I need to change.

I need to spend more time resting. I need to spend more time with just adults not taking care of children. I need to turn down opportunities to do labor (emotional and physical) for people. Not because I hate anybody. Not because I am angry and throwing a tantrum. Because I need rest. Because I need to love on me the way I love on my children. Because I need to spend as much time paying attention to my needs as I do to my children’s needs.

I learn a lot from my kids. They work to set boundaries for themselves. They understand that limits exist in their lives for their benefit. They do better and feel better if they exercise and eat healthy food and turn off the screens at night and get good rest.

I need to learn from my children.

I have an 11 year old.

I am grateful every day for my daughter. I like her very much. I enjoy her company. I enjoy watching her grow and develop and separate from me. She has her own personality and interests. She gets to enjoy the things she wants to enjoy that I do not enjoy.

She also appreciates that I put a lot of effort into trying to please her. I appreciate that she notices my efforts. I appreciate that she is very sensitive to the feelings of other people. She doesn’t need to share the mood someone else is having, but she notices. That’s a really cool thing.

She’s gracious and kind. She’s thoughtful. She will go out of her way to try and help other people feel special.

I feel honored that I get to know someone like her. I really admire her and when I watch her behavior I learn a lot about who I want to be.

On one hand I want to list off all of the things that are going on for her… but it no longer feels appropriate in the way it does to list the milestones for my toddler. She’s a person who deserves a greater level of privacy. If she chooses to announce her height, weight, or favorite things on the internet she has the right.

I don’t have that right any more. She has grown beyond being observed in those ways by me.

I am really grateful I get to have this relationship. I am learning a lot. I look forward to getting to learn more from her over the next many decades.

Things I need to write about.

I fired the online therapist who was not working for me. I asked a buddy if she was willing to do some coaching for me because she gives outstanding advice and she said that sounds like a fun project for a bit. She gave me some stuff to think/write about. I can’t get into it fully tonight but I am going to collect her current questions for me.

She asks/says:

“We need to explore what needs to be different about the kids for the long run, so that can be addressed. Make a list, word vomit, whatever feels good about what you struggle with them on, especially if it feels like whack-a-mole- always popping up.”

“On the “I’m a changing, fluid person and people find that hard to cope with” there are a few things to explore about that.

  • One, if a person has unclear boundaries (like we’ve talked about on the general board in regards to the attacking you) sometimes you suck up things that are actually not fine, and sometimes you get upset. This makes it hard for people, especially if you bring up the times they were wrong and you didn’t tell them. They get confused. So- the lines are the lines, and pushing on them should always be noted. (Boundaries can absolutely change over time too)
  • Two- if people have a wife/mom/employee appliance concept of a person, they can’t cope with changing needs on a day to day basis. Rosie the Robot maid doesn’t live here.
  • Three- anyone who score keeps, even a little, even in a very deep down place, will have trouble with changing needs. It’s too hard to add up if they are getting what they are giving (or more, depending on the selfish bend to it). So it’s frustrating for them to have you constantly need different things.
  • Four- of course people with certain types of a-typical neurological patterns will have trouble, but that’s not the majority of the people we are talking about
  • Five- children can have a hard time with a parent’s changing needs, because they don’t always recognize their mother as a separate person from themselves. Coming to terms with this is part of the developmental stages.
  • Six: “guessers”, from the ask vs guess culture have trouble since if you change all the time they have a hard time getting it right.
  • Seven: the opposite of ask vs guess might be declare vs expect. So if a person isn’t taking responsibility for declaring their needs, and instead expects people will just “figure out out”, that is confusing for people because they can’t get that right.

:point_right: I might even think of some more later, but that’s certainly a start for you to chew on as far as thinking about some past relationships and what patterns they might have had that need to be changed for better future relationships.”

“Are you aware of your needs as they come on, or only as they become urgent? Basics like food, toilet, water, sleep? Others like privacy, quiet, time for self, relaxing, rest, connecting to Noah? if the answer is yes, are you speaking up in the moment it starts? Or at least acting on it yourself? Or does it need to become urgent in order for you to act?”

I will try to get some sleep tonight and come back and more fully answer these tomorrow. But if I fail to get to them tomorrow… they are here and I know I need to be respectful of my friend’s time and energy. It is very kind for her to do this when it isn’t her job. (I offered to pay her for her time, but this isn’t her career. She’s being nice to me. Like when my friend asked me if she could pay me to listen to her and give her advice. The circle goes around.)

Walls and mirrors

I have been walking around saying that phrase to myself for a few days. “Walls and mirrors.” My relationship with my kids is so complex. I started saying complex because of the therapist we did ecstasy with. He didn’t like the word complicated; he liked complex. Ok. Sure. Whatever. I don’t think I differentiate it in my head the way he does in his.

My children are both walls and mirrors. They are like me; they reflect aspects of my personality that I both love and hate. They are not like me; they are difficult to understand and opaque.

I truly believe that one of the big life goals I have for myself is to figure out how to have healthy relationships with them as adults and I don’t know that I know what that means. Are we enmeshed? Not according to the definition of the word because we all get to have our own very separate feelings and experiences. But we want a closer relationship than is standard for white USians. What does that mean? Do I want them to reflect me? Do I want them to be a wall on which I can paint?

I learn from my children. I learn things about who I do and do not want to be. I learn how I do and do not want to act. Sometimes I learn these lessons by fucking up and sometimes they forgive me and sometimes they hold a grudge. Both are reasonable responses in my world view. But both are problematic too. It’s all so hard to figure out.

Lately we are struggling with the changing dynamic that comes from them having adult sized bodies. They have long felt it was wildly unfair that people treat them like how tall they are and not how old they are. But dude and dudette, you are fucking huge. You can’t act like you are still little and to be coddled and tolerated as you are rough. When you roughhouse it fucking hurts and I am not supposed to respond as if an adult-sized person is hurting me you want me to act like you are still my precious toddlers.

This is part of why I wanted a third child. Even they are kind of able to understand “Oh. That’s what a toddler is. Not me.”

We normalize off of one another. We decide what is and isn’t ok by committee in ways that I don’t see other families doing and I don’t know if this is wrong or not. But I don’t have a handbook or a culture to fall back on to decide how things should be so we decide together what we want for our family. We prioritize things like trying to be healthy for the express reason that we want to be able to be together for a long time because we like each other. Fitness, vegetables, sleep, education… we talk about these things in terms of how we each fit into the family unit and how we will have to pursue our own paths. So far they still struggle to perceive that they will want their own space to the degree I predict they will. I remind them that a few years ago they were not capable of perceiving that they would want the space they want now… and I predicted it… and I turned out to be right. Maybe I am right about how much more they will want a few more years down the line.

We’ll see.

Maybe I am wrong.

We imprinted hard on the highly enmeshed babysitter we had for five years. She is her mother’s best friend. She is 21 now and barely starting to pull away and be her own person. My kids saw her going through her teen years hanging out with her mom all the time because her mother was her favorite person. They expect to feel that way.

Only I can’t fucking home school them that long. I can’t. I feel like this is too much for me at this point and I am going to struggle to get through the next year. What would make it better for me? If they were actually self directed instead of depending on me to be their externalized brain. I ask them about their goals then I set the path based on what they claim they want then I hold them to it and it fucking sucks. Because they drag their feet kicking and screaming the whole way. As they remind me weekly that they want the end result and I need to get them there. This is not healthy.

I am failing to teach them how to be self directed. I have such a powerful internal motor, such a strong sense of I MUST KEEP MOVING AND ACCOMPLISHING THINGS that Noah and the kids just… kind of fall into my wake. Which isn’t fair or true entirely because Noah’s career arc has been of his own making and there is a self-directed learner if ever there was one. But he didn’t ever want it until I told him I had big dreams and he wanted to hitch to my wagon. He wrote a book after me (and did way better at that than me).

Noah is incredible and it’s not all because of me. That potential was there before I met him. He had a burning desire to change and get out. But it is utterly undeniable that his career arc after marrying me was meteoric and it wasn’t before our marriage.

I don’t want to be that for my kids. And that’s complicated. I don’t want them to succeed because they are doing so for me. I think I communicate that to them in complicated ways so they don’t try hard because they don’t have much they want to accomplish for themselves. Their just-go-along life is good and they are happy. I mean… that’s good, right? Only it’s mixed.

I want to differentiate more from them and I don’t feel I know how to while also preserving how very close and connected we are. I come from a family of people who violently hate each other. Noah comes from a family of people who low key hate each other. Our kids really like us and want to be near us all the god damn time. It feels like a miracle. I like this. I want this to continue. Only I also feel like I am suffocating and I need space.

I don’t know what the balance is.

This much constant connection with my kids makes me not want sex and that’s complicated.

I went to a munch today. I met a few local perverts and it was quite lovely. It’s… going to be different here. A large party is the size of small house parties in California. More people go to Folsom Street Fair than live in all of the Highlands. There is no education network to speak of.

Meeting these new people made me want to write Part 2 so much. I want to write about all of the things I learned from the bdsm community in California. My mis-education in the hands of the Middle Aged Guard. I love the people who taught me so much. I am so grateful to and for them. I learned so much about life and what I wanted and who I want to be.

And now I need to go off into the world and be that person and I don’t feel like I know how to do that and have the appropriate space from my kids.

I miss sex and I miss bdsm. I miss feeling that yearning and want. In some ways I feel like it will be very good for my marriage to rediscover what those things mean to me away from that community. My wants and yearnings are so tied up in the people who kink-raised me. I am glad I will get to go do some processing of what that means in Portland before I land here permanently. Some of the more big-sister feeling people from the California community moved up there over the last few years and I get to touch base with them.

That’s a gift.

My life is so full of gifts.

I got to dig in the earth today. I put two plants in the ground in Jenny’s garden. She is so kind to allow me to come and do that work. Touching earth calms me down and makes me feel happy in a way very little else does. And I will get to visit these plants for years to come and hopefully see them thrive. I will get to know that Jenny and her family will see them daily and feel pleasure. I hope they will feel that I am extending a little branch of love into their lives.

My life is so full of gifts.

I am very excited about moving to the Highlands partially because it means I need to get my poop in a group and keep it there. I won’t have the patience and background radiation of living in therapy-culture. Folks won’t be the same sort of tolerant of my quirks. That will make many kinds of growth absolutely mandatory if I want to be happy and connected.

I did not talk about my psycho childhood at the munch. Boundaries will be so different here.

There are two Part 2s to write and I want to write them both. I want to write about the community that kink-raised me for other grown ups and I want to write about everything that lead up to Noah for my kids. Those are two very different books. One will be highly chronological (the latter) and one will be full of amalgamation and simplification as I figure out what the important lessons were and how I learned them (the former).

Even if no one ever buys them or reads them… I want to know that I have told these stories. Noah will read them. Noah will understand me better. Jenny will read them. Pam will read them.

So someone will know me better.

(But I will give them copies for free.)

How will I talk about that group? Will I call it the crucible? The binding? The synthesis? The smelting?

Ha.

It will start with driving to the first party I went to down in the mountains. Where I met my Owner even though the invitation came at a munch the week before. I have relived that drive in my head thousands of times. I know the music I listened to. I know how it felt to have all the windows down and the wind rushing through my hair. I was hurtling as fast as I could around all those curves in my mad rush to find myself. To find the mentors I desperately needed.

Thank you all so much.

I saw Dad for the second time at that party. I met him first at PE, and that will come later in the story as a flashback. It will start with that drive. Dixie Chicks: Goodbye Earl. Melissa Etheridge: I’m Only One. Meredith Brooks: Bitch. White Town: Your Woman. TLC: No Scrubs. Rascal Flatts: Waiting All My Life.

There was more of course. But those songs… they were on my absolute constant playlist.

How in the world will I talk about the bdsm and be appropriate for my kids? That’s going to be a tightrope.

The cattle prod. Breaking my arm and staying with him for years. Giving him a 3′ by 3′ by 3′ cage and fucking sleeping in it. Sleeping chained to the bed with just enough distance to be able to reach the toilet.

I want to understand this and for that I need enough distance to look at it. I want to figure out who I actually am and who I want to be. I want to get my poop in a group and be the person my children will want to be friends with some day.

And that means more fucking boundaries.

I don’t even know.

Bam. (That’s the wall.)

My period is over, mostly? I think? But I am utterly exhausted. I feel exhaustion deep in the marrow of my bones. We didn’t go out and have fun with folks. We did our weekend tidy and then watched gardening shows.

I don’t have a lot of patience so I didn’t try to interact much. No really, I can’t express how tired I am.

Tired. Weary. Pain. So. Much. Pain.

Trying to research Brexit. What a cluster. It’s going to be somewhat like jumping out of the fire into the pot. (It is a step up… kind of… I guess….)

I am enjoying looking at the planting schedule for this gardening zone. There’s going to be a lot more mandatory starting-indoors than I am accustomed to. There will be many months of the year when I really can’t do much. That sounds… useful.

The future is feeling intimidating today. It feels like it takes so much energy. So much work. And I’m utterly weary.

A trip to lake vomitcaca

Today a friend said, “You have a remarkable number of stories about children throwing up on you. Talking to you reminds me that I am totally committed to not having children.” I giggled a lot. Yes, dear friend, if you aren’t ok with being covered in vomit, shit, piss, and snot… don’t have kids. Kids have puked on every limb, my hair, in my mouth. Rivers of shit have cascaded down my body. I’ve been peed on more times than I can count. They have blown their god damn noses all over me and into my mouth.

And the blood. So. Much. Blood. My own, theirs… so much blood.

Do you know what bothers me more than bodily excretions?

DO YOUR GOD DAMN CHORES WITHOUT ME HAVING TO ASK 958 TIMES A DAY, PLEASE.

It’s funny where we all have our limits.

Living in the slaughterhouse

Oh gosh. This period is so much. In a 12 hour span I completely soaked 4 pads and a pair of 2 tampon underwear. That’s a fuck ton of blood. When I was rinsing things out in the shower this morning before I toss it in the washing machine… it looked like a slaughterhouse. There was blood up to my knees from the splashing. It’s just… whoa. I hope that next month is a bit more sane. I don’t really have enough menstruation products to be bleeding like this. Right now I have on the panties, a panty liner, and two full pads. Please let me make it till after lunch. Then I’ll change the whole shebang (I actually remove layers as they fill up because sitting on a damp wad of cloth that is 2″ thick is quite uncomfortable) and put everything from last night and this morning in the laundry. For once I’m glad the washing machine is so small so I don’t feel quite so wasteful.

It’s a lot. LIke, oh my goodness and splashes of tomato sauce lot. Like slaughtering animals a lot.

As one of my former students used to say while cackling: “Never trust anything that can bleed for a week straight and not die.”

I don’t feel like I want to do much. I want to lie very still and bleed.

I feel like a rather shitty woman a lot of the time. I know women who go through similar stuff, with the same number of kids, and they have a job too. I feel like a lazy sack of shit. My hat is off to working mothers. Y’all are… magical.

Adulting like a rich bitch.

Noah and I sat down and transferred a bunch of money from the house sale. We now have a whole bunch more money in investments and a lot less in checking accounts.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

I know I have never gone back and done the end of year report for 2018. I have the screen shots, I just didn’t write anything up. Whine.

I am feeling intense mental block around doing this. Even though our total wealth is going up like almost no one else for my generation I *still* feel intense overwhelming shame about how much money we spend. I feel fucking awful. I feel like what I am doing is grotesque.

I am not really missing my budget targets by that much? I am. Let’s be honest, here. But… I miss my budget targets in large part because I under budget on purpose and know we will make more money. Then when I go over… I’m still under what we make and we have invested really fucking well. Our net worth is a hair under $1.5 million.

That makes me want to choke.

When we buy a house in Scotland I may not pay it all in cash. I may get a mortgage because having a mortgage will cause me to hurry the fuck up and pay double and triple payments because I want to get rid of it in a way that I won’t save. Like, I will economize to get rid of the debt in a way I won’t if I just grab it out of investments.

I know the stupid games I play with myself.

Because I don’t want a mortgage. But I also want to leave those investments the fuck alone because those are for the future.

I don’t know how I will handle it for sure. Not yet.

But Noah would really like to hit $3 million so he can just stop working forever.

Will we make that target? Right now I feel like it is hubris to be too sure. But we went from ~$350,000 in investments and ~$350,000 in debt when we got married 13 years ago to almost $1.5 million and no debt.

Noah is 42. I’d really like him to be able to retire by 50. Because I am selfish in the extreme and I want his company. Because if he weren’t working for money he would teach people shit for free because people can’t really afford his time and he loves to teach. I would love to be able to give him that.

Why do I feel so god damn embarrassed about being a little bit over budget when we are having these kinds of results?