Monthly Archives: June 2020

Hey, hi there, hello

Leave a reply

I am running again. It’s a slow process. I was getting into a good rhythm for a while there then I fell down the stairs and jacked up my foot and took two weeks off. In the last seven days I covered 25.7 miles (that includes my daily walking around the house–separating the distance is hard). Given that in the past four weeks I’ve only covered 78.9, a fair amount of that was this week with the return to running. I’m having trouble with my tech so separating out just the “runs” isn’t working that well. I’m not too worried about speed at this stage so just increasing my mileage is where I am.

Meh. But last night’s run felt great. Until I stepped into a slick of mud and fell down a little hill. Luckily I landed in a lot of mud so it didn’t hurt. Sigh. Maybe I will have to run in the neighborhood during rain periods instead of the trail even though the trail is more fun.

Paint arrives today. I should walk around and take before pictures. I have not followed Noah’s request to avoid big projects for a year at all. I would feel really bad only a lot of the construction is not my fault and I was being a total dick when all I was allowed to do was clean and stare at the kids not doing their chores as fast as I would like. I have more hope for the second year of living here being a bit restful? Ugh. It’s not my fault that the plumbing in the whole house was fucked up. I am not good at looking at bare drywall. Hell, we still aren’t done with the basic repairs. This house has been a giant pain.

I am grateful that Eldest Child wants to go to secondary school when things open up. Homeschooling three levels is utterly exhausting. EC is very much at a higher academic level these days. Middle Child is still cruising through the elementary level work. And now I have a budding preschooler. These are very different types of curriculums and they all take full attention. I told EC that once she goes back to school she is in it until she graduates because I’m not taking her out again no matter how rough it is. You get to finish.

It’s time.

I absolutely will not force a kid to start if they don’t feel ready. It’s a principle. But by golly I am not withdrawing you again.

I think it will be good for MC to get a lot of extra academic attention. She is running into that thing where she has been smart enough to “just know the answer” for her whole life and I am starting to not accept it from her. She has to show me the work. She’s not thrilled but she’s coping. We talk a lot about why the work needs to be done, not just arriving at the answer. It’s a process. In particular her emotional growth lately has been truly astounding. She’s like a new kid. She has so much more self control than she has had in the past. When she’s frustrated she huffs a little then gets on with it. That’s massive. She hasn’t thrown a screaming fit in months. I’m having a much easier time with her and I’m grateful because everything else still feels annoyingly rough.

Emotionally I’m… mixed. On one hand I am clearly very depressed. My energy levels are low and I feel very little motivation. I have a lot of discipline. I have almost zero motivation. I’m holding it together with the kids very well all things considered. I am cranky and a bit snippy but I’m not yelling and I’m not being nasty. I have been known to be a bit hostile as I say, “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Generally speaking running a much larger house is going ok. I am delegating so much stuff. *pat self on back*

I’m writing because when I run I compose long blog posts in my head. But today I don’t actually have the courage to write about what I was thinking. I feel vulnerable and raw and like I can’t handle backlash.

So I can write about things that don’t matter very much. I am slow and I am sad but I am working hard and I am getting through intense amounts of work. I have more work coming and I will plow through it.

Now I need to go dress a two year old.

In today’s “shit my kid says”

Leave a reply

My 12 year old did me a favor today. Here in Scotland you have to carry glass items to a centralized recycling unit, often near a store. She was taking her allowance over to get some candy and she offered to bring recycling. Sounded great to me.

While she was there a 25+ year old man noticed that she was putting a wine bottle in the recycling and said “Drinking already, huh?” and winked at her.

She said: “First of all, it’s my mom’s. Second of all, I’m twelve. Third of all, I’m lesbian. Bugger off.”

She said he was a bit startled and said “Damn.” But he walked away and made no more of it.

I have rarely felt so proud. I want to grow up and be like her.

It’s a lot

2 Replies

In lieu of proper emails to the people who have expressed concern, here’s a blog entry.

I’m not doing so hot. It’s a whole bunch of things. This PMDD cycle is ridiculously brutal. I’m on day fucking 35 and I wish I would just god damn bleed already. I think I would be doing poorly even if everything else was going well. But everything else is not going well.

The pandemic is not hitting my area hard at all–there haven’t been new cases in a while and we’ve gone a few days without a death in the whole country. There will be a few more deaths as this trickles to an end, but Scotland as a whole has managed this pretty darn well. I am terrified of when tourism opens up again. That’s going to fuck us. But I also recognize that an awful lot of the industry exists around supporting tourism so it’s a double edged sword.

All the stuff in the US. I feel ashamed for not being there to participate. I feel grateful that I am not part of it. I feel fear for all of the people on the ground doing the work. I feel scared for the future. I am watching the revolution on tv because I was a coward and I got out.

Things in my house. Stuff with Noah is at a weird/hard point. We are having some troubles. I don’t know how to fix them and I don’t know what the way forward looks like and I’m really scared. I am really really scared. I feel so hurt. I feel wounded. I feel sad.

My oldest child is truly into puberty now. Woo! In the process of trying to celebrate her having a big milestone (in a way we have been discussing for three god damn years) she told me that I am the most embarrassing thing ever and there was a whole lot of “you are gross” face and body language. I’m totally butt hurt. I know it is normal. I know it is to be expected. I know I shouldn’t let it get to me. But I’ve already been crying for a few days so that was just not something I could shrug off in that moment.

Middle child is… she’s having a hard time with everyone taking care of their own needs right now. She is angry and being difficult because she still wants to be catered to like a little kid and no one has that to give her right now. We are all tired and doing stuff to deal with our own shit. I’m trying to talk her through how to meet her own needs a bit more and it’s just hard. So she’s getting in trouble a lot because bad attention is better than no attention.

Youngest child is an adorable little shit head. She has taken to yelling at us all because she wants to be top dog. YOU. WILL. NOT. SAY. THAT. TO. ME. (When we say something like, please don’t kick me.) She’s starting to get more consequences and she’s learning that when mama says something it fucking stays true. If you get into the fridge and steal multiple pieces of fruit and take one bite and leave them to rot, no you don’t get a slice of cake when the rest of us do. We don’t do that with food in this house. If you take the fruit you eat it before you move on. Sorrynotsorry.

Well, I’m writing behind this password because Jenny promised me that I could write what I needed to write and I didn’t need to password protect it–she would choose not to read it. Then she read it and yelled at me. So awesome. Jenny is trying to rewrite history. “I’ve said one wrong thing.” Oh fuck that. You started out our relationship 26 years ago calling me a stupid slut. There have been incidents like this for over two decades. You don’t get to say that calling my kids retarded was saying one wrong thing. She also clarified that she didn’t spank her daughter for a panic attack she spanked her because she was being defiant and screaming in Jenny’s face. Hello? You have rewarded her for bad behavior and defiance all her life and now all of a sudden it is not ok to the level you have to hit her for it? Yeah I don’t find that more excusable.

I don’t want to end the relationship. But I don’t know how close I want to be either.

I am not doing well at responding to anyone’s emails. I feel trapped inside my head. I feel unable to reach out because I feel wrong and bad and stupid and unwanted all over the place.

There was drama in some online forums. A couple pieces in a couple of places. In one of the womens-support groups there was this one woman who was really fucking antagonistic and when I got sick of being bullied I left. The one person from the group who has remained my friend then wanted me to spend weeks helping her process her feelings about being bullied by the one problematic woman. I’m like, this is not good for me. So she left the group too. Some of the other members came to her and asked about forming a new group without the problematic woman and I feel rejected, unworthy of defense, and really unimportant. I feel fucking bad. I provided a lot of emotional support to those people for over a year and me being chased off was fine but once it is this other gal all of a sudden the bully is a problem. I feel like shit.

I’ve been chatting with some of the bay area kinky folk. Some dude was making “jokes” that weren’t funny about covid at at ime when one of the members had a mom who was doing quite poorly and she was terrified. A few of us called him out for not being funny and told him he should apologize. He then proceeded to go on this extensive tirade about how pointless it is to apologize to mentally ill fuck ups. He said that the request for an apology was tantamount to him being falsely accused of rape. WTF? Now one of my friends is his new submissive. I’m like, “well. That’s fucking awesome.” I’m trying to just set boundaries with her about how I don’t want to hear about him and it’s only so successful. I may end up having to stop talking to her and that will be sad.

I don’t know why emails feel harder.

House stuff continues……..s…..l…..o…..w…..l….y….. which means I can’t just be done. I am in this constant state of waiting for the next step and it feels awful. This house will be great when everything works. And I just want to cry.

Sleep is not going well. I do get a fair bit sometimes but mostly I don’t get enough sleep and I feel poorly. I’ve had more than a few days lately where I got almost nothing done because I feel so awful. I’m depressed and I’m definitely getting the full-body malaise.

That said, I have been completing my miles. If I feed the kids, get my miles in… that’s enough to count for a day right now. I’m only up to 16 miles/week right now. I’m adding 1 or 2 miles every other week (mostly 1 but there are a couple of jumps) until September of 2021. My birthday week next year will be my peak week: 54 miles in a week. Then I start ramping down again (hopefully for a marathon the first weekend of October, we’ll see) the week of the marathon I only do 35 miles. It’s more in a day than I did during training, but the hope is that my body will be so accustomed to just going and going that it will be fine. Knock on wood for no injuries. I am a little worried about how often I will need to use the treadmill over the winter because it just isn’t the same as running outside, but it’s a lot better than injuring myself on ice or not running.

I am 10lbs below the peak weight I hit a bit ago. I have done pretty well about cutting sugar from my tea (only had one teaspoon one time) and I’ve not 100% eliminated alcohol (it’s not a great coping method and I get that but I don’t *have* a great one) but I’ve gone from drinking 5-6 days a week to having some 3 times in the past two weeks. I am also running out of stuff and I think I will be good about not buying more for a while. I mean, I have a whole bottle of whiskey sitting there I haven’t touched yet so I won’t be out out for a while.

We have some tenants and they are super sweet. I found them through the mosque. A bit ago my heart was moved to reach out to the mosque and tell them that if one of their members ends up in a tough spot because of job-loss in the pandemic and they need emergency housing, I have an empty apartment. The kind doctor who talked to me at first said he didn’t know of anyone at the moment but he’d keep me in mind. Almost a month later I got a call. They are a really sweet couple, she’s pregnant and her cooking is mind bendingly good. They are not paying rent yet (that’s the whole out of work + being an immigrant means you can’t get government support thing) but they are giving us stuff they make and offering help around the yard and being super gracious. The long-term goal is they will pay rent once jobs happen again. I am willing to extend some faith here. These are rough times all over the place. We are having really fun conversations and they love playing with youngest child when she’s outside. The young lady moved here just over three months ago and basically doesn’t know anyone. We are talking as best we can with her emerging English and my bad Hindi which is close enough to Urdu that we can communicate some.

Seriously, just having those smells wafting through my house from her cooking is worth the price of admission. Oh golly. It smells like home.

The yard has come along quite a bit and I feel like I am ready for the growing season. I still have a long way to go before I figure out all of what I need to do and what I need to prune and when. It’s a process. The yard is feeling overgrown and more jungle-like and I love it.

I mean, I’ve been feeling pretty crappy. But instead of feeling suicidal I have self mutilation ideation. It’s still not great (and I’m not doing it) but after so many years of “I should die” being my first impulse it is in fact an improvement. I’m sad. I feel bad about myself. But I have work to do and I need to wait for this wave of sadness to pass so I can get back to it.