New Blue Blanket

I should have just waited to start this new blanket until I finished Elise's, but I couldn't help myself. I am OH SO CLOSE to finishing the blanket I started making for Elise years ago, and I think to myself, eh, it's going to be too hot to use it any time soon anyway, why not start in on these pretty gray and blue yarns?

Why not, indeed? It's going to be twice the size as Elise's blanket and will probably take twice as long.

I've never been into those instant satisfaction crafts.

Levels.

Well, this has been a weird week so far, I'll say. 

I've done some things I can't say I'm very proud of, so I won't say anything else about them at all, but I've also had some fun with new friends and old that has surpassed the fun I've had with any other people in my life lately, so I guess that makes up for anything else that's questionable.

There was some news I got this week though that is the best I've heard in a loooong time, and I have a feeling the news is just going to keep getting better.

I had a meeting with Elise's kindergarten teacher on Monday and found out that Elise is reading two levels above where she should be at the END of the year. Kindergarteners should be reading at a level two right now, and at a level four by the end of the school year to be considered "at grade level." 

Elise is at a level six. 

The book in the picture is her favorite one right now. She reads the entire thing to me all by herself, and I am starting to think that she has it mostly memorized, but I am going to let her have that confidence for a little while longer before hiding it away and pushing her farther on. 

"Mooooom, I'm reading." She said to me right after I snapped this picture. She was pissed that I was interrupting her reading skillz to take a shot of her doing it. 

Oh, well. It's for the memories.

I'm so proud of you, Elise. 

You Can't Always Get What You Want

I sing this song to Elise sometimes, when she gets pissed off and whiney about not getting something that she wants.  I tell her, if you try sometimes, you might find you get what you need. 

Unfortunately, I know this isn't always the answer. Sometimes you just can't get what you want - and that's frustrating. It's frustrating for me, when the things I want are so close to me, within literal reach, but still so far away from ever being a reality. 

It's frustrating, is what I am saying, when you have something and then don't have something.

Or when you have something, but then you lose it. 

I'm just frustrated, and oddly enough, this song usually helps get me through that awful emotion.

Don't Read This, I'm Just Ranting.

Do you ever just really want to rant about something to anyone who will listen, but you know it's all been said before and you don't want to be redundant and annoying in your ranting, but then you think to yourself, "This is my blog!" so you do it anyway?

I just want to quit my job. I know, I know. I've said it a million times. It's not new news. It's not even old news, it is just the thing that occupies my mind with worry and resentment five days out of the week when I have to drag my ass out of bed and get into the office. I am dreading tomorrow, but even more so I am dreading Tuesday when my boss comes back from vacation and I have to be, you know, professional about things.

You know it's bad when you have trouble getting out of bed in the morning. But I think it's gotten to a worse state now, when it's Sunday and I am already in a bad mood because tomorrow will be Monday, and even though generally Monday and Tuesdays are my favorite days of the week, I dread it anyway. 

It just wasn't a good day today. 

I spent yesterday with Daryl, Todd and Zak, having a million laughs and more fun than I've had in a while with them - I think I might have peed myself a little, that's how much we laughed together. Then, this morning I was woken up early, by surprise, when Elise was dropped off by her grandparents hours before I expected her. We lay in bed most of the day, watching Netflix and probably eating too much, and then for whatever reason I thought going to a movie would be a good idea... 

Then things just fell apart. She threw a fit about brushing her teeth, I mean an actual screaming, throwdown on the floor, banging head against the wall FIT over brushing her teeth - something that's not new, something we do every day and she knows she has to do it - and I lost my shit. Yes, that's right, sometimes mother's lose their shit. 

I sent her to bed with no story and no song and I took one of her stuffed elephants away - and I told her this has to stop.

I don't really talk much about Elise - I don't want to be a mommyblogger. I think that when you write about your kids online, you are just asking for unsolicitied advice or comments and I want none of that. NONE OF THAT. I will struggle through motherhood on my own, or I will confer with my closest friends and family, but there is nothing that gets a bug up my butt faster than someone commenting or advising on my parenting without being asked. So, yeah. 

Her behavior is very bad, though. Bad in school, and lately getting worse at home. And you know what? Sometimes rewarding for good behavior isn't the answer - punishment for bad behavior is. She's got to GET IT at some point that she is not in charge, that I am her mother and I am in charge, and she needs to listen to me, and be nice about it. 

Holy hell I just ranted on and on, didn't I? Too bad it didn't make me feel any better about anything.

Where am I?

So, it's February. Oh, time.

An old friend of mine, Brad, used to yell at me every time I made a comment about how time feels like it's flying by so fast. "Time never goes faster or slower," he'd argue. "Time is just arbitrary numbers we give to to sunsets and sunrises." Which, yes, it could be true.

I hear there are people in the world who argue that time as we know it isn't really a straight line that we imagine it being, that it twists and curves and folds in on itself, and that's why when we look back at our memories we sometimes have trouble remembering what came first in any sequence of events to lead us to where we are now, at whatever particular moment in time. 

Sometimes I wish there were more hours to a day, or that sleeping wasn't necessary - at all. As much as I hate to leave the comfort of a warm bed on a cold morning in winter, a bigger part of me always resents that moment in the wee hours of the morning when I have to tell myself that it's time to lay down and give up the day, and it always pisses me off, because very infrequently do I feel like I've done enough with the hours I had, or at least did enough of the things I wanted to do with them.

This blog, I'm not using it like it should be used. I'm not saying the things I should be and want to be saying because within all of us there are secrets and in my case they can't be given up, even though I'm coming to realize that one of the secrets I am keeping is shaping my life into something I don't understand and haven't been able to come to terms with. 

What things do you hold on to and what do you give away? What does it mean to be authentic in a place where you are still constantly admitting that you are a secret keeper because some things just can't be discussed online or with anyone else in your life? And really in the end, what does that matter?

I could tell you about how this morning as I was walking in to work there was shattered glass in the parking lot, and the clear shards I stepped around twinkled in the sun and momentarily blinded me, and I was half annoyed and half amazed that trash really can be beautiful. I could tell you that I have listened to Britney Spears pretty much non-stop today and her music does more for my mood than chocolate or sex put together. I could tell you that in the last week I've panicked over my financial situation, and that I am not proud of the fact that the only snacks Elise has to take to school right now are string cheese sticks and baggies of mommy's cereal, and that we've eaten pasta with butter and cheese for days on end because putting gas in my car to get to work takes precedence over grocery shopping, and the cost of milk and fuel only rises. 

I could tell you anything, is my point, and I usually don't because I am hiding behind this wall of fear. Fear like I've always had as a writer on the internet - of being rejected by people who know me. Fear of being considered a fraud or a fake, because even if those things aren't true, they are impossible to defend against when you don't have a posse to back you up, to explain things to people who don't understand.

I don't know where I am now on this life journey we all have going on, but I'm starting to understand, slowly and painfully, who I am. That's something.

Falling Down

Last night, I fell down. Twice.

The first time I was coming out of a door with my friend and secret project co-conspirator and I just missed a step like an old lady and went down on my knee, but then I rolled and landed on my side and my ass. My knee was skinned and my pride was hurt, but I picked myself up, dusted myself off, and went on with life. 

I was SHOCKED that I had fallen down. SHOCKED. I haven't fallen down, like REALLY fallen down, in years and years.

Imagine my surprise when a few hours later I fell down AGAIN. 

The second time I should have seen coming. I was outside Bar 33, trying to get my buddy Sebastian's attention so I could compliment him - really - as being the only person who actually gave me a birthday gift on my birthday. He wasn't paying attention though, so I tried kicking him in the ass, but he grabbed my leg and held it, and everything just fell apart. I stumbled and twisted around and started going down, and to add insult to already serious injury, I fell on the same knee I fell on the first time, but I also smashed my face into a window, my glasses fell off, and there were WAY more witnesses.

Needless to say, I'm sore. But there is something that is very very necessary to say:

Kiss your baby's booboos. They hurt. Next time Elise falls down, I am not going to just say "Eh, you're a kid, you fall down all the time, big whup." Next time, I am going to hold her, kiss her, love on her, and give her a booboo bandaid or ice pack if she wants one - because damnit, I wish I had someone around to do the same for me.

And in a Case of Mistaken Identity..

So, I'm excited about the prompt that I got for this week's Indie Ink Challenge. I was challenged by Billy Flynn, and this is what he gave me:

Use as inspiration or verbatim: 
The police in New York City
They chased a boy right through the park
And in a case of mistaken identity
They put a bullet through his heart.
-The Rolling Stones, (Heartbreaker)

Here's what I plan on doing: I plan on writing the shit out of this prompt, and I'm going to do it from Detective Don Belarus's point of view. Remember him? If you don't know who I am talking about, then you didn't read my last II Challenge piece, and you haven't read any of the Hannah Sketches - so I suggest you go do that. Well, I gently urge you. No, I'm actually poking you in the side and prodding and teasing you to go read them right here. 

I don't know, I'm just really enjoying the hell out of those characters and really looking forward to writing more about them. Eventually I will reach a point where I've written so many sketches about Hannah that you'll have wished you jumped on the bandwagon in the beginning, if you know what I mean. I accumulate words. Shit tends to be epic and prolific up in here.

But now, off to bed. I need an early start for my very long day tomorrow, unfortunately. The snow we got over the weekend is making me think that driving Elise to school is the best bet because if she has her way and gets to walk the ten yards over to the neighbor's house to get on the bus, she will be covered in snow and soaking wet the rest of the day. Driving Elise to school for 8:30 in the morning is not my favorite thing to do considering that most days after I put her on the bus I either go back to bed for an hour or read, write, or watch Netflix, but.... I don't want my baby to freeze, either.