Tag Archives: money

I want to be open.

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So here’s the thing: bad things are going to keep happening. 2024 was not a great year. I had surgery. Noah had surgery. I was sexually assaulted. Noah had a bursitis issue. My body has been well into melt-down/burn out for some time and my physical pain issues are ridiculously high.

When I felt this bad in California I had to keep working and driving. I saw a chiropractor, an acupuncturist, and a massage therapist nearly every single week in order to function. Now, I don’t function very well. I get the absolute basics done but that’s it and there is no way I would be safe to drive. I had a really intense conversation with myself when my California license was expiring. I had a few options. I could ask a friend to let me lie and change my address so I could get a new California license. Some folks have offered in the past. I could work harder to get a UK license, which would be the correct choice of course.

If I had a license I would feel compelled to use it. I would feel required to make other peoples lives better by using cars more. When I think of how much worse it often got in California because of all the driving? I thank my lucky fucking stars that I have reduced the stress on my life enough that I can control a flare this bad with yoga classes and careful pacing of exercise.

I haven’t seen any kind of physical support person since before my surgery and that was almost half a year ago. I am doing so much better physically than I used to do. I could be doing better if I had more support but that will always be true and I will not have the support so get on with it.

I can only do what I can do from this house. I don’t particularly want to move. The medical care in this city will be limited for the rest of my life. So I can’t drive. I can’t bear the strain.

I gave up having a license after 20 years of having a car meaning freedom and independence. I have lived in cars for a couple of years in non-contiguous spread out periods, never longer than 7 months at a stretch. In a real way giving up my license is giving up my normal Plan B for where I can go in an emergency.

I gave up on getting a license here after not trying very hard to start with.

That means my life will be necessarily small as I won’t ask someone else to do all the travel. That closes a lot of doors all by itself. I want to form relationships with people who live within approximately 5 miles of my house. That’s a significant limit.

I want to be open to the universe, to adventure, to opportunities but it feels like I am being closed down in ever increasing steps and it is weighing heavily on me. In a way the issue of increasing disability dovetailing with a reduction in financial status is convenient. I no longer have to consider how to manage all that disposable income. It’s simple: I don’t have it. I think I did well with it when I had it (paid off debts, built long-lasting wealth) and I think it will be ok to get off that train.

I don’t have to keep working like my life depends on it. Is that fair to embrace when everyone else does have to work in unhealthy ways to survive? There is no fair. There is no deserve. Life is unfair in every fucking way. Me working or Noah working to earn money so that we can justify the capitalist machine grinding people to dust is kinda weird. We can survive without giving our life to companies that make us miserable.

Why in the fuck should we try hard to stay in that? We do need to find ways to be part of community here, but why does it have to involve enriching someone else with our time? Because eat the rich. If we are honest about our life then we sure look like targets. Meh. When have I not been a target?

I want to be open to what comes in life. I don’t want to go forward with a specific size and shape and shopping list of what it needs to look like. I have so many limits. Creating more arbitrarily seems like a recipe for failing at life.

Running in parallel

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I don’t understand the connection between wanting to have sex and writing. I see the connection between writing and medicating way more clearly. It is fascinating feeling like I have my brain back after 3 years of not feeling connected to myself in this way. This narration feels like more of my true self than any amount of being in a room with me can reveal because I will always do my best to mislead you in person.

I know the difference between being allowed to write what I am thinking and feeling and being allowed to act out how I am feeling or what I am thinking. The world doesn’t care how I feel it cares how I act. But I care what I feel. If you want to have the ability to crawl around in my head and fuck with me then you must care. I could just write to Noah, if I were actually more afraid of the consequences I would probably do that. I am getting comfortable and I’m not sure if that is good or not.

It is weird to me that I now live in a country where well actually the police might care what kind of consensual sex I have with my spouse. There are rules here that were not part of the background noise of being a Californian. I am unlikely to change enough to really be what they wish I was. The thing is, if neither I nor my husband ever complain then nobody actually knows what we are doing to one another so it’s kind of a moot point.

Side note: IT IS NOT A MUTE POINT. NOT EVER. FUCKING FORUM PEOPLE.

I do find that I am putting the more explicit stuff over on that site because it feels a little less like courting danger. I just want to gain citizenship so I can sit over here and garden and mind my business. La la la.

But I can’t. I have literally had my blog used against me in a legal mediation already. I was not a reliable witness about the things that were happening with my roof because of the swinger parties I went to. Super charming. If that, if the threat of getting in even more trouble isn’t enough to shut me up is that pathological?

I believe with my whole heart that I am not doing anything wrong. I am enjoying my sex life with my legal spouse. Hell, I’m not even poly. I do believe I should have the right to sit over here with my pot and my husband and my kids doing our weird things. Obviously the kids are not involved in the sex weirdness. And that is the point. I have a very strict filter between which people are allowed to see what and when. I mean, my children could find my blog–they know it exists. It’s my legal damn name… I’m not being secretive. I have told my children over and over since they were small children that once they read my blog they can’t unknow the things about me that they will learn and I’m pretty sure it will freak them out. Given the questions that I will answer simply and directly my children are smart enough to know that when I say, “Are you sure you want to know that” that they probably don’t.

I will off-handedly give answers that make them want to rinse their ears out with bleach. If I suggest you don’t want to know something… I’m probably not being over cautious. I am not over cautious about generic information that might influence their lives in some way going forward. I believe in boundaries and privacy. I don’t have secrets because if I will spew them on the public internet it doesn’t count as a secret. I have things that I do not tell all people in all settings. Do you understand how much time and money I spent on therapy to learn how to compartmentalise like this? Decades. Personally I have paid many tens of thousands of dollars for therapy and the state of California has probably paid at least a quarter of a million if you count the times I was in institutions.

My children do not overlap with my sex life.

For some reason I still absolutely compulsively need to write about it. This is the exhibitionist part. I think that is something I dramatically underrated about my life in the bay. A lot of what I did in the bdsm and kink communities was massively spurred on by the fact that people were watching. From when I was 18, from the second time I went to the Power Exchange the energetic interaction with the crowd was absolutely integral to the experience of being kinky.

And yet when I went to Sydney I felt really weird about the fact that the only public play spaces were performance spaces on stage in front of a dance club. That felt different for some reason? Why didn’t it just feel like BaGG? People there referred to their play as performance. At the munch I was asked, “How long have you been performing” and I twitched.

Now it seems to me like the difference between “nae bother” and “all good” and “it’s no trouble”. They are just different colloquialisms. I mean, there are nuances of difference between play and perform but most of them are about structural differences in the locations. People moving between the two locations will mostly seamlessly move between the slight differences in behavior.

When I was younger there was this really sharp divide between sex and bdsm with a lot of my friends. My friends were people who liked public bdsm spaces (I’m including house parties) and most of them do not allow sex either through explicit rules or implicit culture. Having sex is mostly off screen. Although, how do you define sex, right?

It’s all muddy in my head right now. It’s like a dam bursting and things are coming through all at once instead of in a neat stream. I don’t think I like the lisdexamfetamine. I have not been able to access this many streams of thought at once since I have been on it. I mean, I think it is useful. If my new provider (I was switched people and I meet the new one in 2 weeks) is ok with me having a much lower dose and using it as needed then I think it would have a ton of utility. But not all day and not every day. It makes me hate sex. It makes me not want to write. It makes me feel flat emotionally and unable to orgasm. I can work like a demon but that’s not all good.

I can feel in my body how I acted when my big kids were small when I use cannabis. It literally feels like my entire body relaxes and I can access all of the lanes of the superhighway that is my brain to track being a patient mother and a creative teacher and a considerate friend and a person dedicated to fitness and a person who is drawn to eating the foods that actually best fuel physical activity instead of numbing emotional and physical pain and a filthy fucking whore.

More than one thing can be true. I have nothing to be ashamed of so why should I act like what I am doing should be a secret? There is a difference between secrets and boundaries and privacy.

I am talking in circles this morning. I can feel that spiral thing happening but I don’t have time to explore it. Breakfast will be on the table in 10 minutes because that is what Noah does. He does it because I asked him to. I owe him the respect of showing up on time.

We’re All Mad Here

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I was reading an article that included the phrase “Mad Pride” about how mental illness has been perceived by society (mostly the US/Canada/UK) over time. It made me stop and think hard about how much my life has changed. I am in the closet now in a way I was not in California. There were times in my younger years where I would keep some things under wraps (I was militant about limiting sex life conversations with some groups of people) but mostly I didn’t hide any aspect of myself to such a degree that anyone and everyone couldn’t find out if they tried even a tiny bit. 

There is a big difference between “I don’t share personal stories about my sex/romantic life with students or homeschooling parents but I write about it explicitly on my public blog” and “I took my writing private so that someone would need at least a basic understanding of the internet archive in order to find out anything about me, I stopped writing about myself publicly on any topic that might be controversial and I no longer bring up or mention most things about my past and I am actively evasive with every person who does not have connections to my former life.”

It’s different. I am feeling more comfortable in the community. I feel like I probably do not have to remain quite this guarded permanently but I feel intense gratitude towards myself that I allowed myself this runway of time to have a place in the community where I am already seen as stable and competent and fairly well educated, especially in topics that are not well understood already here. I am starting to have that boost to the ego experience of having people say, “Oh Krissy I wanted to ask you about something. I don’t understand why ____?” When that something is often related to an aspect of interpersonal communication. I’m also getting more requests than I can take when it comes to organising level responsibility for different community groups or associations. And folks are asking me how I have taught my kids (thing). That’s definitely one of my sweet spots for feeling like I am not an imposter who should shut the fuck up.

It’s not that I think everyone should do what I do… that would go poorly. What I really appreciate is when people are interested in the process of how I figured out what was right for me because understanding that process is the bit that can help other people. They will have a different right answer in the end, but maybe seeing how I made decisions that align with my values will help them crystallise what their own values are so they can feel confident in their own choice. I like talking about parenting philosophy, not parenting choices. Because we are going to make different choices and that’s absolutely great. It’s mandatory. It’s as it should be for there to be the delightful variety of folks that this world needs. But the philosophy behind parenting is a place where you can discuss motivation and intentions and you can learn from each other without getting into a pissing match about technique. 

Technique is hard because it’s a minefield of traps for not understanding your own privilege when you frame what you do. Noah says that society has as much justice as it can afford. It’s complicated because often a family has as much justice as they can afford. And from family to family that is such a complicated and loaded concept that oh goodness just no. Can’t.

Anyway. The article. It goes through who is allowed to be mentally ill in public now. Who benefits from hashtag campaigns and public awareness movements around mental illness? It’s a short article but provocative in a way I agree with. I am so deeply aware of the privilege I enjoy at this point in my life. 

But this privilege comes with costs too. Costs I could not have imagined when I was on the far side of that particular privilege slider. 

I’ve been watching a lot more sci-fi/fantasy shows and movies recently. I am particularly drawn to things that are depicting ways that people live with an understanding of there being completely opposing truths/narrative/existanses existing all at the same time. 

So, I like to talk about money. If you have been here for a while you have seen the arc of that from poverty to (I think) fairly substantial wealth. When you are new to a community you only really exist from the moment they meet you. Your past is invisible and unknowable. Ok fine with google they could look me up but they don’t. I write all over the fucking internet. I have one handle I use on every site and I am so trackable it is definitely what a security expert would frown upon and give me a lecture for. I am consistent in part because that is my absolute only talisman against being called a fraud. My story is too whack-job. But I gots receipts, bitch.

I have suppressed so much of that over the past few years. I have been so very silent. It is taking a toll. 

The pendulum is going back and forth on so many different dynamics in my life. In one way I feel like my kids just got out of a big disequilibrium period (or at least some combination of them) and I am slamming my way into one with full force and fury. There are a whole bunch of things that are not working and I need them to change. 

I say over and over that disequilibrium is a necessary feeling for everyone because without it you probably won’t grow. You will get complacent and comfortable and you won’t want to face the terror and uncertainty and pain that comes with change. I have to get angry to have the force to demand change. I have to feel like I will wreck big things if the change doesn’t happen.

I am doing a med change. Amitriptyline and Lisdexamfetamine are not working for me anymore. There are enough negative symptoms with using them that I just cannot. Sex just hasn’t been happening. I’m not happy. I’ve been intermittently explosively raging for quite a while and it’s just not ok. I don’t like me. I need Patience, and I don’t mean the drink made with a whole lot of bourbon.

It feels silly to say this but I want to drink less. (It’s silly to say because Noah and I both have recently put in MASSIVE orders of alcohol.) I got variety. I got stuff that I want to invite other people over and say “I have x and y for you to taste test.” I want a social gambit, I don’t plan to consume much of it myself. I is making friends. 

I have a teeny tiny bit of regret about buying this house because it is huge and has been really rough to repair but I can’t tell you all about it because a Shorty has just informed me that there are gingerbread pieces waiting to be made into a house and I am all out of time.

Almost here

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My birthday is coming up. Going to Texas and England this year means I am not running away by myself. (Important note: the woman we went back to Texas to see has now passed away. I have no regrets over prioritising that goodbye trip over other more fun activities for this year.) Noah wants to be thoughtful and asked me what I want. I want to not want anything so I can’t feel let down. I want to have patience for the 973,383 times I will have to remind my children to do basic chores (like brushing teeth). I want to not miss my mother. I want to go back and rewrite my back story so that my impending birthday doesn’t feel like a hand grenade about to land on my head. A buddy suggested that I go camp somewhere for cheap, but I have been working too hard. I couldn’t right now. My hands are trashed.

I have an old friend staying with me. It is complicated in the way that integrating a new person with deep grief, and addiction issues, and learned helplessness will be. To be fair, every time I feel like I am going to freak out about an issue I have to address he is responsive and polite and most of my requests have been acknowledged and respected. But negotiating and setting boundaries is hard. It’s One More Thing on my emotional chore list and I’m tired.

It has been a fucktastically busy year. Busy on so many levels and my exhaustion is, once again, bone deep and completely saturating my soul. I feel numb and on fire and empty and aching. I deeply miss the comfort of tracking things that happen in my blog because I benefit from the space to process but mostly I do not feel I can anymore. I have reached a certain age where I now have to be realistic about the fact that I am not really going to make more very close friendships. Sure I can find new activity partners, but it isn’t the same thing. The people I have met in the last few years I am deeply conscious of this careful distance I keep. They are not allowed to know me. And I cannot talk about my deep relationships anymore because when I do I ruin them and it is absolutely all my fault.

So I do small bits of processing with people but very little in my historical record. I do almost none publicly. I mostly stuff my feelings and feel disconnected. I do not expect or hope for any kind of improvement.

I worry that the adhd medication was effective and useful for a time and it has gotten to the point where it is causing as many problems as it helps and I am starting the process of weaning off (with medical supervision do not fucking criticise me).

I watch the incoming terrifying blend of natural, political, social, and financial disasters hitting the UK with a sense of grim apprehension. I have been waiting all my life for a moment like this. I feel horrible about the fact that a lot of people are going to suffer terribly, some are going to die, but it won’t be my family. I continue my grim plod towards being able to provide a variety of supplemental food because I think famine is coming. I am installing solar panels with a battery system. I am installing rain butts, many and as large as I can manage. A chicken coop is finally being built. Hell, I’m even building a firewood pile because I worry that there will be a cold snap before the solar panels are installed. By the end of fall I will finally have my polytunnel set up for next year’s food growth.

I am working as hard and as fast as I can.

Noah’s job has managed to go most of the way towards fixing the issues that were happening with his salary. This is good. It would be a terrible time to go do a job hunt. I think we only lost a year’s worth of progress towards retirement. I am deeply aware that the fact that he is so insulated from the current global difficulties with regards to fair pay that he is still going to be able to retire before 60 means that I will never really understand the rest of my generation. Marrying him was hitting the lottery. I did not expect this. There is no fair. There is no deserve.

Even in company I feel lonely. I know I am not meeting anyone else’s emotional needs and they are not meeting mine. I do not know what could be done to change this. What I do know is that I am not suicidal and I am financially and physically prepared for more hardship than 90% of the planet. Maybe my expectation that things are going to fucking suck is almost a good thing. I am going to persevere. I will endure. I don’t need to be happy. I need to get the fucking work done.

And right now the next task on my list is to go make Middle Child a birthday cake. They are turning 12. Puberty is arriving and it’s going to be a wild fucking ride.

Opportunities and expenses

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Oof. I need to start this off by saying: I am so grateful to be in the position I am in. I am very much in the luckiest top I don’t know what % of my age cohort.

Owning a house is a lot. By the time we finish the current set of bathroom remodels (water dripping down through walls and the wood was not replaced in the last 2 or 3 times things were “fixed” because previous plumbers were asshats) we will have replaced 5 showers and we will only have 2. That sucks!!!!!! But this time (because the current guy is so much more competent) we are going the distance and fixing everything else and getting two whole new bathrooms out of the deal. I’m excited and sad to be paying for them. I was going to limp along for a few more years but if I have to do this much work again… I’m coming out of it with a damn heated floor.

I am also coming out of it with a gorgeous bathroom and a slightly different shaped bedroom and I’m going to put heated flooring in my bedroom and ditch the radiator on the wall. This is exciting to me. It will also as a side benefit reduce the rate of mold growing on stuff I store under my bed. Extra score!

But I didn’t really want to pay for this kind of house remodeling stuff this year. It seems like a lot of dang money. I somehow suspect we are not going to get around to fixing the upstairs carpet for another year or two because… money.

“Where is all the money going?”, you ask. Well… our next door neighbor has decided to change up some things in his life and he offered to let us by the adjoining empty plot of land. We dickered over it because oh my god not having debt has been so nice. We had to choose between liquidating some investments and paying cash or getting a mortgage. Mortgage finance rates in the UK are below 1% and people here complain that they are too high. heh. We decided that having a mortgage also gives us the opportunity to build UK credit and that’s something we care about a lot so…

Damnit. I have debt again. But that means I am going to be scrimping and saving as much as possible. You are only allowed to pay 10% extra in a given year so I can’t massively overpay in the exact same manner I did in California but you only lock in a rate every 2 or 3 or 5 years (I’m going with 5 years so we don’t have to pay the £1500 fee for getting the mortgage as often) and at that point you can dump as much as you want into paying off the mortgage. That sounds terrific. If I want to pay it off in 10 years or less I will need to be dumping in the neighborhood of £25,000 a year into this. That’s going to make a big difference in our spending over the next few years and the house remodeling stuff is not helping my stomach hurting over how I will get everything done.

I mean. I’m a lucky asshole and I have more security and financial ability to swing stuff than other people. But I will go back to being as conservative as I possibly can in a bunch of areas. That’s not strictly speaking my favorite.

(The loan is for more than we need just for the property. It’s complicated and I can’t disclose the full details around why the loan is for so much.) If we were just financing the property I would only need to find around £15,000/year. oof.

This is leaving the stock option part of Noah’s income alone as investment stuff every year because we need to be growing the investment portfolio towards retirement. He’s really scared of that cliff that tech workers have where they just… don’t get jobs when they are older. He feels like he for sure has 10 more solid work years left in his industry and he can’t promise 15 more years at this salary level. That seems incredibly fair so I feel like we need to get all the house fixing/mortgage stuff paid off in 10 years. I mean… houses will need more in the future no matter what. We will always have to save for that and have money sitting around waiting for the next disaster. I am hoping that it will all be ok. I mean… I’m a lucky bitch and I have more chance of it being ok than I could have ever dreamed when I was young.

But golly I hate owing anyone anything.

Reevaluate everything

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I don’t really know what I’m doing as a parent. I read things, lots of things. There are so many opposing opinions on literally everything. So I try shit out and then I talk to my kids about how it is going. In the long run their opinion of my parenting is the only metric I care about.

I asked them last night if they think getting paid for chores is motivating them or taking away motivation. EC eloquently said, “Well, on weeks when I don’t need any money I don’t see any reason to do chores.” So that’s not super helpful. I asked if they think paying for their own stuff is helping them feel like they are more responsible with how they use up products. They said that part is working well.

We also renegotiated their pay for babysitting because that’s different from sweeping and tidying. They did some practice on how to state how they have increased their responsibility (closer to babysitting rather than just being a good playmate who distracts YC while I have to do all the ‘work’ stuff) but they still aren’t ready to be fully independent about it. We talked about what adults/older teens get paid and what sorts of qualifications those people have that my kids lack. I did this same sort of process with their former babysitter. How do you negotiate for pay increases, how do you talk about your increasing level of responsibility?

It was interesting listening to how they have no real interest in renegotiating what they get paid for chores because that has an opposite effect on their motivation to do the work, but babysitting is different. If I were to guess about why these things are different (I don’t know for a fact I can only use conjecture) chores are things they are doing in preparation for being an adult and it’s part of being a citizen of the household. Babysitting is different from just playing with their sister and being part of a family. It’s exhausting in a different way and they are doing this training partially so that when they get older they know how to advertise their services to other people. Neither of them anticipate a career in janitorial services, those are skills they are learning for themselves.

That’s my guess. But I could be wrong.

So we are going back to a flat allowance for most chores with the exception of babysitting. The first five hours/week of babysitting is payment for their cats since they don’t want me to feel like I own the cats. They get paid over that threshold. So technically their pay can still be variable, but frankly most weeks I doubt they will do more babysitting time than the basic hours.

It means that each big kid will do a couple of hours on a weekend day with their sister and then an hour most week days. I will get to rest more.

I’ve tried creating this with adults for pay. I signed back up with Care.com and the like here in Scotland. I have ads. I’m looking for support! I’ve sent messages! No bites. I’m not sure what it is about how I advertise that makes people have so little interest in working with us. Ah well.

I might get to actually date my husband again one of these years. Woo.

MC’s “babysitting” is still at the level where I have to be available to provide food and nappy changing services but she’s getting really good at playing with YC for a while if I have chores I want to do. I think EC is at the point where Noah and I could disappear down to the apartment for a few hours. I still wouldn’t feel comfortable leaving them alone in the house as a regular thing.

EC did take care of things when my wound popped open. Getting a taxi for 5 is… hit or miss. Sometimes they send an adequate vehicle and sometimes we have to send back a smaller car and wait for a bigger one. So she stayed here for two hours with YC while I got stitched up. I am grateful that we now have that level of assistance, but I don’t really think EC feels ready to take on that level of babysitting on a regular basis.

Babysitting usually means Noah and I get to be in our bedrooms with the door shut for a little while. So we have half an ear out for stuff we need to mediate, but we get to do something without toddler “help” for an hour or so. It’s a work in progress.

We are all just works in progress.

I do these kinds of negotiations with my kids partially to model for them that relationships are not static. You try something and if it isn’t working you can change it. Just because you agree to try something that doesn’t mean you are stuck doing it forever. You are allowed to grow and change. You really should change over time. And it’s hard to figure out what should change when things aren’t working; sometimes you need to throw stuff at the wall and see what sticks.

We are talking a lot about what we want from home schooling going forward. I’m doing more research because that’s my place of comfort. I’m looking into what the exams are like in secondary school. When do they happen, what do they mean? How do we prepare for them in a home schooling environment?

Well, me screaming about them not working hard enough… that needs to not be part of it. MC is just to the age where I started sitting on EC really hard to force her to “catch up” in a few subjects. Turns out I didn’t make her catch up to grade level I made her get way above grade level but I did it at the cost of both of us being miserable for a long time. I need to learn from that mistake.

Why is it that people who beat the “handwriting is important” drum think they are being the voice of dissent and advocating for The Most Important Life Skill? You aren’t the voice of dissent. You are literally parroting The Man and being as fucking basic as possible.

But the exams here all handwritten. So my kids need to practice for that. I get it. Just, ugh. Don’t act like handwriting is the measure of the anything other than the ability to jump through an arbitrary stupid hoop. It is not the measure of intelligence or knowledge or wisdom.

My mother’s handwriting is exquisite. That hasn’t helped the woman get a good job, ever. My handwriting is shit and the only thing it ever cost me was a masters degree. I still got the pay raise associated with the masters degree in my career of choice. I still have never had difficulty applying for any work I’ve ever wanted to do. I didn’t want the career that a masters would enable. I wanted the knowledge so I could be better at the career I was in without having it at all.

Just… ugh. Why in the fuck do handwriting advocates think they are so… revolutionary? “I’m going to be the voice of dissent that happens to agree with every bureaucrat in existence.”

Like, really? Voice of dissent here? Come on now.

Oh… you were just trying to say that if there are disability related reasons that handwriting is a problem I should not seek out accommodations because who gives a fuck about those disabled kids. Right. How very ableist of you. One of the fucking diagnostic tools for EDS is difficulty/pain in holding a pencil. Our god damn joints don’t stay in place to hold the pencil the way it works for other bodies and we can end up with permanent fucking pain.

That’s not the “voice of dissent”. People have been telling folks with disabilities to suck it up since forever. But sure. Keep feeling superior over there. What was that you said? You don’t have a job and you need to go back for extensive training to get another one because your qualifications lapsed? I guess all that fucking handwriting you did wasn’t enough to save your ass?

Sure. Keep telling me about how handwriting is The Way, The Truth, and The Light.

I’m clearly frustrated with someone. But yes, I know my kids have to work on handwriting. Even if it wrecks ECs hands she has to do it anyway.

THE FUCKING VOICE OF DISSENT HAS SPOKEN.

“It is no sign of health to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick society.” – Krishnamurti

Sigh.

If you look up recommended accommodations for children with EDS, “eliminate handwriting grade and substitute grades for content and effort” is on the list.

Sigh.

We’ll figure it out. I’m just frustrated. People are challenging.

Improving and thinking

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I made it through a day out without feeling too terrible. We had some stuff we needed to deal with and we met a home educating family at a park after errands. It went well.

Now my back is quite sore again. I was out too long and I feel really uncomfortable. I won’t die or anything, but it’s feeling like a lot.

It’s kind of funny, but I’ve seen the mama in that family in town with her kids before. I noticed her because I admired her clothes and I wondered about her being out mid-day with her kids in tow. Ha.

It made me miss my clothes that are in transit that much more. I miss feeling like I look like me. I am in borrowed/hand-me-downs or a couple of pairs of trousers I got because I needed something and that’s what I could find that felt comfortable. I don’t have clothing with me that is weather appropriate that feels like my style. This is amusing to me given how much time and effort I spent thinking about how I want to be seen in the world at the encouragement of the horse-trainer-lady. She has a whole workbook she made about figuring out how you want to be perceived in the world and taking concrete steps towards being accepted for how you see yourself. And now it’s all on the boat. I had stuff with me that worked for how I wanted to be perceived in excessively hot weather. For now, I tread water in stuff that feels kind of wrong. Almost 20 weeks of waiting now.

“It’s on the boat” has become an epithet of hostility in my house.

I both care and don’t care about how people think about me. I tried makeup. Frankly I can’t wear it in this environment; even the “water proof” shit runs and then I look stupid. But I’m a hippy. I want my long loose skirts back. I am not a straight mini-skirt person. Knee length skirts barely feel decent to me. Even when I think they are super cute they don’t feel like me. I realized last night when I went to bed in pajamas that had a little hood on it I was literally only exposing a little oval of skin on my face. I had gloves and socks on (keeps the lotion in, yo–I’m dry as fuck). I honestly like managing my appearance in such a manner. I like being covered. I like having my body be private. I have no interest in dealing with other people’s perspective on whether I shave my armpits or not. You can go fuck yourself if you care.

I like keeping most of my body private in this really intense way. And living in trousers doesn’t feel the same and that’s what I’m doing right now.

I miss the super awesome hiking boots that were too heavy to wear in the heat in Thailand. I want them back. They are on this island. They have been on this island for five days short of a month.

If I get a call on Monday for a Wednesday delivery then the absolute soonest we can get our stuff is 20 weeks. This dominates so much of my awareness. I don’t feel settled. I am always waiting.

I am waiting for my life to start. I’m thinking about the fact that a lot of our home school materials are on the forking boat. Give them back.

We can’t “officially start” home schooling until we are given council permission. This is most irritating. If I never enroll YC in nursery and if I waited until the end of this year when EC is graduating out of primary school I wouldn’t need council permission. At this crux times I’m allowed to simply not enroll my children and the council has no say. But MC having another two years in primary school means I need permission. It being mid-year matters.

It’s going to be a few weeks until they are home full time again. The boat stuff had better bloody arrive.

Meh, bookshelves won’t be built until February at the soonest and probably won’t be done until March or April. Noah’s bathroom has a leak. It’s not like we are settled into this house. Still adjusting. Still wiggling into spot.

I’m trying to not get ahead of myself on planning for the garden. I don’t even know what it looks like at the beginning of spring yet. I don’t know the light patterns yet. I don’t know where things will grow and where I want to add things. I just know I need a whole lot more wildness. I need it for my soul.

Oh! I found out that the housing development that is supposed to be placed on the field behind my house is held up because of badgers! They can’t build anything there until they find suitable rehoming spots for all the badgers and they keep finding more! THAT’S SO COOL. In light of the utter total destruction happening in Australia it’s nice that some animals somewhere in the world are being kept safe right this moment. It doesn’t help the half a billion animals killed there in the fires, but it is one set of humans doing something in one place. It’s not enough.

Enough would require about 7 billion people caring. I don’t know how to make that happen.

Our home is becoming really wonderful to me and I have mixed feelings about that. I am a Have in this world. As a result I am building a beautiful home–it’s a process. Making this home is going to take a decade or more. Ha, Noah thinks I don’t have a big project started? I’m just pacing myself. There is no fair. There is no justice. I don’t know how to feel about any of this or what I should do about any of it. I didn’t think I would be a Have. I expected to be a Have Not.

And yet when I look back… did I really? Or was my sense of self esteem so high that I made sure this would be the end result?

I want to learn how to be a lot more things; I want to do a lot more things. I don’t want to buy a lot more things. I want to make my own pretties. And that requires one of the biggest luxuries of all… time.

I’m not a minimalist. I like drawers and shelves and cubbies with things in them. Minimalists think more will appear in the moment they have a need. I like having stock to get me through the lean times when access is harder.

My typing is tapering off because Fluffy is not ok with me doing anything other than petting her.

Skills I want to have:

  • making more kinds of ethnic foods from scratch
  • sewing the clothing I wear, I hope mostly from recycled fabrics
  • make the candles I burn
  • figure out more about growing native plants from cuttings so I can provide food for local insects as many months a year as possible
  • get better at painting
  • figure out how to make bread-making a part of my routine; it tastes better
  • build an exercise routine I can keep with kids around

In 2020 I hope to:

  • read 78 new-to-me books
  • walk at least 1500 miles
  • be consistent with tracking our finances so we have a better idea of what that will look like going forward
  • find more relaxed ways to help my kids learn; I want to be less schooly
  • have more date time with Noah
  • build a play kitchen in the yard for YC
  • organize the books in the house
  • get started on setting up an art studio
  • write at least 10 letters to friends
  • spend less time on the computer or my phone
  • try to incorporate more witchcraft into our family time

That’s a lot. That’s enough. Go to bed, Krissy. Boat stuff won’t come faster if you stay up being annoyed at the delay.

An offer….

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I have 60 days until my American Airlines credit card will shut off. I have a HUGE number of frequent flier miles associated with it. I can gift those miles to other people (with some slight fees involved) so anyone who wants to come visit me… if you would like me to pay for the ticket (with miles, I’d need you to cover the extra fees… but it’s way the fork lower than a full ticket) I need to buy it in the next two months.

You don’t have to fly in the next two months. I just have to buy the ticket. Or the miles expire and float away into nothing. I shoulda just put all my stupid purchase points on the other card for cash back. That was poor planning.

But my poor planning could be (nearly) free airline tickets for you… Really if you want/need to fly anywhere and you just want to pay the fees talk to me real quick. Otherwise they expire. I suppose you don’t have to come see me.

But I do have a spiffy apartment with a very comfortable bed.

Too many thoughts.

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I am having trouble falling asleep again. I am thinking about gardening and book shelves and how very stressful it is having our things on the boat still. By the time they arrive it will have taken over four months. I don’t have perfect recollection of what is on the boat and I am at the point where I really don’t want to buy duplicates of things because that is a waste of money so I just kind of… fuss because I don’t even know what I am waiting for but I can’t buy things to fill my needs. It feels horrible.

Deficient: (in something) not having enough of something, especially something that is essential; not good enough

Retarded: less developed mentally than is normal for a particular age

I am having a lot of feelings about both of those words. Anger. Rage. Fury. Sadness. Despondency. Anxiety. Frustration. Defensive.

There is a strong idea that home schooling harms children. That it makes them unable to develop “normally”. This idea doesn’t come from one person or one place, it comes from many places. I find it utterly infuriating and enraging to have to deal with this idea. I’m not feeling very rational about it. If it were coming from one place or one person I think I could cope. I think I could parse my feelings down into a little bucket and figure out how to talk about them. But it isn’t coming from one place it is coming from many and I feel like instead of being able to process it with any of those places I am engulfed in a tidal wave of upset and I utterly cannot engage with why this is such a motherfucking insulting concept.

I need to find a way to wrap my brain around useful words though. My kids need me to. They need me to be able to advocate for them in a way that does not include just saying “Fuck off” to authority figures. I have to find eloquent words to go through why it is utterly unacceptable to use such words and I am failing. I am fucking failing.

Because those words are a contemptuous indictment of me as much or more than my children. Because I home schooled them and if they are deficient it is my fault. That was literally the point of home schooling. There is no one to blame but me. But are they deficient or are they different in a way that would have been true no matter how they were schooled? Are they struggling more or less than they would have if they were put in school when they really didn’t want to go and it would have been a daily fight? I have no crystal ball. All I have is documentation from Stanford that the way I home schooled is the ideal learning environment.

But in Scotland all home schooling is termed interrupted learning as if home educating means that all learning was interrupted.

My kids were going to be weird no matter what. Look at their parents.

Be bitchy nice. That was the advice of the mom I talked to on the playground. Demand that the school change the words they use. My experience is that schools are abusive and the only thing you can do about it is leave. Take your football and go home. But I don’t want to yank my kids out because of one fucking cunt. I need to find words that are effective and clear and commanding.

Don’t. Insult. Children.

If you cannot talk about children without using insulting, rude language do not work with them or discuss them at all. Your nasty opinion is utterly unhelpful and can in fact be damaging.

Children can have areas where they struggle. Children can have areas where they need extra help. Children can require extra support to be successful.

THAT DOESN’T MAKE THEM FUCKING DEFICIENT YOU PIECE OF SHIT MOTHERFUCKER.

Not good enough.

Go straight to hell you presumptuous cow.

Clearly something is going on and clearly I am not going to be direct about it. BUT I’M HAVING A LOT OF GOD DAMN FEELINGS.

My children are articulate, self-aware, sensitive to the emotions of others, expressive, have incredibly large vocabularies, can figure out how to play with people across social classes, can eat at fancy restaurants around the world with perfect table manners (no matter what table manners mean for that country), and they have unreal memories for data. But yes, they have things they aren’t perfect at. So. Fucking. What.

I am so angry I could spit nails. And I have no choice but to deal with this. I have to be the adult. I have to advocate. I have to ask for meetings and use my big girl words and not swear at all. Even though I want to say a lot of incredibly rude words. Even though I want to break things.

I would much rather think about gardening.

For the record: I am only interested in discussing difficulties in communicating with professional educators if you are in fact a professional educator. I have no desire to speak to other parents about this whatsoever. There are a myriad of reasons for having this boundary. I don’t need to share them all. Or any.

I still fucking hate school.

And yet I consider going back to university. I would like to work with kids who have emotional problems. I want to research incest. I think it will require more schooling. My ass is going to be in the special needs office saying, “Hi I’m Autistic, I have ADHD, PTSD, GAD, and arthritis. I absolutely require the use of a computer; it is abusive to require me to hand write.”

Fuck hand writing. Fuck hand writing being the fucking measure of someone’s motherfucking intelligence. Why don’t you fuck yourself with a fucking chain saw.

Maybe my kids need to be allowed to type as well.

Maybe it is time to find a game that teaches touch typing.

Maybe I should just think about gardening instead. I want a subscription to the lovely gardening magazine Jenny gave me a bunch of old copies of. That thing is detailed and fantastic. Over the winter I am going to sit down and start planning all the things I can do once I’m allowed to plant. I can get started in September! There’s lots to plant in September! Given the budget we want to follow next year we are going to be doing basically everything in cash. So at the end of the month I will be able to put the money I save from the hoped for budget into a jar for gardening. That’s my gardening budget. I’m not in California anymore with a tech salary. I can only buy things as I can afford them on a fairly tight income. I am choosing to make my budget much tighter than I think we will fully maintain. Hm. That sounds not-right. I always budget as if we have far less money than we do. Because I will fuck up and go over my plans. I am aiming for a really really low figure. Much lower than I think we will manage. Because then when I go over it I am still at a reasonable level. And I am going to do this partly by limiting myself to cash. Easier to say “We have no cash in the envelope” than “I don’t want to use the credit card”.

Gardening is not going to be a big part of the budget. I am probably going to become that lady who asks if I can take clippings. I only get to buy plants/hard scaping stuff once I have saved up enough money. I’m not planning to travel any time soon. Well, we have to go to Edinburgh for official stuff. But the whole trip is going to be in the neighborhood of £300. Lodging and train are costing £140 and I plan to bring snacks/meals for the train. We aren’t staying long. We aren’t going to fancy restaurants nor Do All The Things. We will get passports taken care of and notarize the sale papers for DVC. Then we will come home.

We will only be awake and available for entertainment for like 9 hours total in the city anyway.

I’m tired. I don’t want to hang out. I really don’t.

I’m tired so why the fuck can’t I sleep? Because I have to be bitchy nice with officials and the idea makes my stomach hurt. I feel sick.

Gardening. Gardening is fun to think about. Book shelves will be paid for out of DVC profits. After the book shelves are paid for the rest goes into investments.

Paint will have to be saved up for.

It occurs to me that I don’t want to get rid of all the cardboard boxes. I want them for gardening and painting. Hm. For gardening: it will be a great way to kill a bunch of the lawn so I can plant more interesting things there. For painting: tarps ain’t free and if I can put cardboard several layers deep over the carpet I don’t need tarps. Hmmmm. Ok. I convinced myself.

Before I kill lawn I need to see where things come up in the spring. I hear there are bulbs out there. I will have to mark the lawn somehow to protect the bulbs when I rip out grass. I’ll figure that out.

We’ve gone out and done some winter pruning as a family. It was really fun. I love how much my kids love working with me. I love watching them take pride in their growing abilities. They are quite competent at a wide array of skills.

NOT GOOD ENOUGH MY AUNT FANNY.

Fuck petty educators.

Gardening. Book shelves. Stop ranting in your head, Krissy. It won’t help.

I am scared I won’t be able to help.

I feel bad about myself.

I feel like I must be a shitty teacher. Only I know I am not. Only I feel like I am. All home schoolers have experienced “interrupted learning”. I want to puke. I am so fucking mad.

Dogma. Fuck your fucking dogma.

Just keep swimming.

Draw a picture or some shit.

The best things in life are free

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In September I turn 30. On this birthday my annuity payments will come to an end. It will mean a larger than 10% drop in our income of tax free money. This is gonna hurt. I’m looking at our budget stuff very carefully. This is going to mean a fairly significant lifestyle scale back. How irritating. I mean, this is a first world problem. We are still going to have substantially more money than the vast majority of Americans. (I will point out that we also don’t live in Boise so our mortgage is None Too Cheap.) We will be fine and all, but this trip to Europe is our last international travel for quite a few years. I’m going to make the most of it! That’s a lot of why I’m staying for four full weeks. Airfare is about 50% of the total cost of the trip and that’s kind of scary because hotels there are really pricey.

I haven’t really had to actually budget. Things just kind of worked out. Now I do. Damnit. Good thing I will never get pregnant again. Between all the health care costs and our increased eating out and maid service… well… that was most of the annuities. 🙂 … Actually, I just did the math. We spend almost 1.5 times the annuities on pregnancy. Good damn thing that’ll never happen again! And Shanna was even more because of the hospital transfer. Holy shit. Maybe I’m not worried after all. 🙂

What do you want?

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I was asked elsenet what I want right now that I won’t be getting anytime soon.

Clothes from this chick on Etsy.
I want to finish the front and back yards.
I would like to remodel our kitchen.
I would really really like another bathroom. (This is probably one of the least likely things.)
To hire someone to trim the tree in the front yard.
I want to finish the garage and turn it into a play room so that I can start sending Shanna out there to play. 🙂
I want to be able to travel more. I think it might be Scotland next.

I think that’s the money-necessary stuff I want at this point. What do you want?

Real life is really annoying.

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I fixed my Quicken problem today. I did it all by myself. Go me! This resulted in me being able to load the last couple of months into Quicken. I almost wish I hadn’t.

The sad truth is that we need to not buy Christmas presents, not go on any more trips, and seriously cut back on what we are spending on food. That spiffy new roof has more lasting effects than my comfort. Money kind of sucks. But if we are really really good then we might be able to go on a trip next year. *cross fingers*

(Icon just because I’m posting naked. :P)

Money and family

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Every time I deal with my family they ask me for money. Either to pay for something or just for actual money. In the cases of my cousins/niece/nephew asking for college money I don’t actually mind much because I think that is a worthy cause to donate towards. However I do mind in other cases. I called my sister to ask if we could take her out to dinner for her birthday. Her response was, “Oh good, cause we have a dinner planned for me and I wasn’t sure how I was going to pay for me and the kids.” *blink* So that means that a)I wasn’t invited in the first place, and b)that I get to pay for her entire family. I get that I can afford this more than them–I do. But I’m starting to really resent being treated as a walking checkbook. 🙁 My sister told me that they are planning to go to TGIFridays for my nephew’s birthday and Red Lobster for my niece’s. I kind of wonder if they told me just so that I can pay for it.

My uncle called me this morning and told me that he wants to buy a car for my niece and he was hoping that I would contribute money so they can buy her a better one. I told him that given that we just paid for my cousin’s tuition to a vocational program, we are about to hand my nephew money towards his tuition, and we have a trip to New Zealand next month–no, we can’t give them money. He then proceeded to kind of whine about how he can’t find anything within their budget but there are x, y, and z cars that are much better for only $5,000 more. I kind of saw red.

This is a lot of the reason I stopped talking to my family years ago. They’ve done this to me since I was 16. Whatever amount of money I have to live on I stretch. At this point Noah makes far more money than I ever dreamed of living on, but we also have financial goals that are fairly tight within his salary range. We can’t reach them if we support my whole family, which I don’t want to do anyway. Hell, I feel guilty asking Noah to pay for as much for my family as I do.

And don’t even get me started on my mom.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Busy morning

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We woke up for the 2:30 feeding/diaper change and uhh haven’t really gone back to sleep since. (Shanna has been sleeping though. That’s more important.) This is one of the downsides to how early we go to bed. If that first sleep cycle was a good one it’s hard to fall back asleep sometimes. Later there will be napping.

But! Since we were both up… we had rather nice sex. I’m really enjoying all the possessiveness that is more permissible in monogamy. 🙂 He’s mine, Mine, MINE!!!! *cough* It wasn’t rock my world sex, but it was nice anyhow. 🙂 Then we talked schmoopily for a while. Then we started talking finance for a while. We decided during this conversation that it was just time to get up.

We are trying to figure out the balance between investing in a regular 529 account and a 529 independent account. For those of my friends with kids, check it out. A 529 independent account allows you to pay into an account as if you were paying for a kid to go to an expensive private school right now and that money basically turns into credit hours for the institution and you can use the credit hours later regardless of what the actual tuition is at the time. Very neat. The problem is that it is a gamble that your kid will want to go to a private school. There are a few hundred schools that are registered with this program and you can go to any of the schools on the list. It’s worth thinking about. Cause we are thinking about more than one kid it’s kind of interesting to wonder about whether one kid will want private or two or none or… ah! Where is my crystal ball?!

Then after doing a bit more research and talking about this I got off my heiny and looked into credit cards that will give us a higher rate of cash back (American Express has a fairly good card–5% back on groceries/gas/drug stores and 1.5% back on everything else once you’ve spent $6500 in a year). I couldn’t find a better card so I opened an account. Card is on its way.

Then I got around to opening the E-trade checking/savings accounts we have been talking about. They offer 3.3% interest on savings and 2.9% for checking. That’s way better than Washington Mutual Chase. Because they don’t have branches to visit they refund ATM fees so we no longer have to think in any way about finding branches. 🙂 Given that I do 90%+ of my banking online it doesn’t matter that much anyway.

I have folded laundry and I’m about to go put it away. After that I will put the diapers out on the line (I did that load overnight) cause the sun is coming up now and I can see.

Then I will come back in here and start researching renewable energy companies. We have a little bit of money we want to put into the market while it’s down and I think renewable energy is a pretty smart place to go right now. I may end up eating those words, but that’s my first guess. I need to figure out a)what companies exist b)which of them are publicly traded c) what are the actual specific technologies they are producing d)what sorts of dividends do they pay e)look at their previous history and how they are performing f)maybe look into their funding sources? Is there anything big I should look into other than what I am thinking of right now? I may start another entry later and edit it as I find more information if anyone is interested in seeing what I turn up. 🙂

And now! I go work on laundry. Not bad for 7:15.

Weird.

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This feels almost un-American.

The only debt we have left is the mortgage and the house goes on the market today. The houses we are looking at in Pittsburgh we will be able to buy in cash with some left over. My student loans are gone. Our car is paid off. The motorcycle is paid off. The silly debt Noah had is gone. I thought Americans had to be in debt?

Not only are we not in debt we don’t live month to month. This is… creepy. How did this become my life? Ok, so this is going to get a lot less easy in a couple of months when we start noticing the lack of my salary, but we are going into this stage in the best way possible.

I am not poor anymore. I’m not broke anymore. I am unlikely to ever really get back to a place in my life where money is a problem.

It breaks my head.

Just life

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I slept for just shy of 10 hours last night. That is highly unusual for me. Normally I wake up around 7 1/2 hours. I think I am making up for the school year.

I’m reading a lot, both on the internet and actual books. It feels really nice to not be pressured or on a deadline.

My lovely husband rocks so hard. He came home from work last night and did most of the work to make dinner. Then we had a fabulous date night. I married the best perv ever! (Ok, so there are still a few skillz I would like him to develop but he is coming along nicely…) This “communication” stuff is really handy.

I’ve been talking to Tom more and feeling more comfortable about it. I still feel a bit tense when I watch him playing (I don’t spend much time doing this) but there is less tension and more happiness that he is happy. I really do love him and want him to be happy and I know that he never would have had all that he needed with me. And I really am better off with Noah so it’s a win all the way around. I think I feel so connected to him still because he was the first person to love me so much or so well and I try very hard to appreciate what people do for me. The fact that what he had to give ended up not being enough in the long run is really not his fault.

Alright, I’ll say it. Off birth control. Don’t know when anything more interesting is going to actually happen as I have no control over that. Lots of looking down and chanting “ovulate!!” I amuse me. The first two weeks I was pretty batty and all over the place emotionally but that has passed and I’m feeling generally pretty cheerful. The fact that it coincided with lots of job stress and then no job stress probably helps.

Still having a hard time believing that I am not too difficult to put up with. Noah says I’m ok, but it’s hard. I’m so scared of pushing him away and I know I am tempermental. Gah. Have to just accept that I’ll never be placid or even tempered. Suckful acceptance.

My body is being weird. I think it is mostly that I am sitting on my ass too much. I’m stiff and sore most places most of the time. I’m also a wee bit chunkier than is optimal for normal usage. (My jeans don’t really fit.) Other than that: my hair is freshly red and my jaw hurts all the time. Looks like braces are mandatory. Damnit! I really hate dental stuff.

Family stuff continues to suck. I’m thinking that I should do another six months or so without talking to any of them. My mom recently asked me to have dinner so she could give me my baby pictures because she doesn’t want them. This following on the heels of her telling me that my bio-family isn’t my family, my chosen family is along with her threatening to sue me if I publicly disclose stuff about my life… yeah. I think maybe it’s time for some non-talking. My sister doesn’t even want me to know where she lives–as in she has told her children they are not to give me their address. Awesome. Jimmy still doesn’t want to speak to me and may never again. My aunt doesn’t believe me about the stuff that has been happening because she has never heard about it before from anyone else. Yeah. Just… yeah. That’s ok. I have a Mom who wants to be part of my life. I have a Dad and a Daddy both of whom love me and dote on me and give me the kind of support I need. I have people all over the country who love me and support me. I suppose my mother is right. I do have a family and she isn’t part of it.

Computer woes continue. At least this time I managed to back everything up. Heh. Still thinking about buying an Apple instead of a PC. Luckily, I have my work computer to use over the summer so it isn’t mandatory yet.

Given the impending kidlet situation, having two vehicles that don’t place one of us at serious risk of injury daily is a mandatory situation. I’ve been looking around and I’m pretty sure I want a Mazda 5. (The Prius was supposed to be Noah’s car from the start…) I have wanted an Element for years, but seeing as there could be three booster seats in our future, a four seater vehicle is just not an option. *sigh* There goes that dream. Is ok. Babies are more interesting than a vehicle I can clean with a hose. 🙂 It’s going to be a bit more expensive than we were hoping for, but it will be doable.

My student loan debt will be gone before school starts again. We will have just the mortgage in debt and that is such a nice feeling.

Kids are scheduled to come paint the house when I get back from the honeymoon. I’m actually looking forward to it. 🙂

I leave on Monday to see my friends and Noah is joining me on Thursday. We are going to be backpacking for a week. I’m so excited!

Life… life is not completely 100% perfect, but life is good.

Much yay

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Today I get to go in three hours late without having to bend the rules because I am an honest and straightforward person. So screw you to all of my dishonest colleagues. (Rant maybe forthcoming on that one.)

This morning I got all of the prep work done for the next few days that has been making me nervous. Sweet.

Today, I checked the bank account and saw what would have been once upon a time a staggering amount of money. At this point it isn’t staggering, but it is certainly plenty so that my darling husband could be out of work for months before I would worry even one iota about him finding a job. My salary is enough to keep us afloat and we have a beautiful cushion for just about any “just in case.” Oh, and the only debt we have left is the mortgage and my student loans due to me masterfully managing our money and paying off a rather large amount of debt in the past six months. Go me.

Yesterday I got to see my lovely Sarah, though only briefly, and she presented me with the baby clothes she has acquired so far. The fact that I am not the only one joyfully anticipating me getting pregnant lets me feel a sense of family and attachment I wouldn’t have believed I would get. Thank you Sarah; thank you for being my family. Eight more weeks until I stop taking birth control. The days are flying by…

Including today I have 31 more days of educational opportunity remaining with my kidlets. But that includes finals and weird schedules and I don’t see any of the individual classes that many times. Really I only have 22 more days with each individual class. Eeeek! Must get through this book! But I have a good solid unit plan in front of me and I am confident that I will get through it and my babies will do well.

Life is really good.