November 30, 2005
Well, my intention was to pour out all the icky thoughts and feelings that I never voice in this journal. So against my instinct to think of the positive points of the day...A refused to let Ya use the ketchup, saying he bought it with his own money. She took his wallet to check if any of his money was missing. He tried to grab it to stop her and whoooop! the ketchup bottle flew out of his hand and broke. I am tired of children breaking bottles of ketchup. I am tired of children lying. I am tired of children arguing.
Y did not finish his homework. He did work on it a little though. In the bathtub, he and A screamed bloody murder for an hour, to enjoy the acoustics. I was hoping they would lose their voices, but no such luck. A is writing "I won't talk or disturb during computer class," a bzillion times rather than sleeping. I'm tired of kids not picking up after themselves. Really tired.
G called this afternoon and asked if H and I would like to come to the mall with her and E. E needed shoes. We hardly get to see each other any more, and of course H loves E. So I arranged for Y to go with the ex. Yl came too. She is a wild little thing. But she was pretty good when we got into crowded areas of the mall. Maybe because I told her that if she kept giving her mother a hard time, she and I would go out and wait in the car. She and E got pretty boots. H was tempted by some things but didn't find anything that really suited her. G thought she could buy her something as an early birthday present when she saw her showing me things. It turns out her shoes are torn, so she will need new ones. It has been warm enough, she has been wearing sandals. Y has too, the last few days. He doesn't remember what he did with his shoes and we haven't found them yet.
I left a note for A so he could find the ex and Y. I told the ex that Ya was supposed to call to tell us when she got back into town, so he could pick her up. Did he stay by the phone? No. In fact, he left it off the hook. When I was finally worried enough to call, I found that the phone didn't work. Finally I realized that the ex must have his off the hook. Luckily there is my mobile. When I called to see if everything was okay, it turned out that they were just returning later than I had thought. The ex came by at almost nine to say he wanted to go to sleep. I wasn't about to offer to go get her since he has forbidden me to drive his car when I think there is a need to (like a kid with a probably broken arm). So I checked my impulse to worry that he would leave her there, and told him they said they would call when they were half an hour out of Jerusalem. Luckily they called at nine, before he got into bed.
I don't really want to write about this, because rejection is a painful wound to treat. But in keeping with my new policy not to hold all these things inside me, I will tell my journal. Hard for me. Basically, I got up the nerve to write to my second highest match in okc. We don't really have much in common in that I have been married, and have children, and don't have a career or a way to support myself. He the opposite of all those. But interestingly, he wrote in his homepage (which he listed in his profile) that he was very reticent with people, giving speaking examples. Especially with the opposite sex. In that way we are so similar. But apparently my mentioning reading his journal in his homepage made him decide to make it private. In truth I did feel a bit of a voyeur reading it, because at the beginning it was open and revealing. Later not. Anyway, my understanding from this is that he doesn't want contact with me, but has been answering my letters out of an old-fashioned politeness. I think what hurts is the lack of openness. Not in the sense only that he doesn't want to share his personal life, that is obviously a choice we must make to protect ourselves. But in not being open enough even to say, "Hey thanks for writing. I have reasons that I am not interested in continuing contact with you though. I wish you well." HA. I did it. I do feel better. It really isn't so bad when you put it in the light of the sun.
On the other hand, Aw publicly acclaimed me for working on making the move to the U.S. and said what a challenge it is. He offered his help and that of his friends. That was sweet and encouraging.
Whoops, apparently B brought the bed from L, because the ex asked "is this bed for me?." I told him it was for me, but I was so sleepy at the time I forgot to go out and bring it in. I will have to call L and B and thank them. L and I. are trying to get rid of everything they can to make room for the new baby (G-d willing). I am sitting in the comfortable chair they gave me as I write.
Got a letter from my parents. They enclosed a note and stickers for each child. The kids were impressed at how Gramma gave each one stickers that suited their personality, and mentioned those things in her notes.
Y says that Et gave birth to another girl. I forgot to ask the ex if it was true or Y was just confusing talk about her giving birth soon.
L is supposed to have another four weeks to her due date. I'm sorry I don't live closer so I could help her with sweet little M. I wonder what Et is doing with Ia while she is in the hospital. Her mother? B? I prefer not to know, to getting involved in the ex's family's lives. Just thinking about talking to them makes me weary.
Y did not finish his homework. He did work on it a little though. In the bathtub, he and A screamed bloody murder for an hour, to enjoy the acoustics. I was hoping they would lose their voices, but no such luck. A is writing "I won't talk or disturb during computer class," a bzillion times rather than sleeping. I'm tired of kids not picking up after themselves. Really tired.
G called this afternoon and asked if H and I would like to come to the mall with her and E. E needed shoes. We hardly get to see each other any more, and of course H loves E. So I arranged for Y to go with the ex. Yl came too. She is a wild little thing. But she was pretty good when we got into crowded areas of the mall. Maybe because I told her that if she kept giving her mother a hard time, she and I would go out and wait in the car. She and E got pretty boots. H was tempted by some things but didn't find anything that really suited her. G thought she could buy her something as an early birthday present when she saw her showing me things. It turns out her shoes are torn, so she will need new ones. It has been warm enough, she has been wearing sandals. Y has too, the last few days. He doesn't remember what he did with his shoes and we haven't found them yet.
I left a note for A so he could find the ex and Y. I told the ex that Ya was supposed to call to tell us when she got back into town, so he could pick her up. Did he stay by the phone? No. In fact, he left it off the hook. When I was finally worried enough to call, I found that the phone didn't work. Finally I realized that the ex must have his off the hook. Luckily there is my mobile. When I called to see if everything was okay, it turned out that they were just returning later than I had thought. The ex came by at almost nine to say he wanted to go to sleep. I wasn't about to offer to go get her since he has forbidden me to drive his car when I think there is a need to (like a kid with a probably broken arm). So I checked my impulse to worry that he would leave her there, and told him they said they would call when they were half an hour out of Jerusalem. Luckily they called at nine, before he got into bed.
I don't really want to write about this, because rejection is a painful wound to treat. But in keeping with my new policy not to hold all these things inside me, I will tell my journal. Hard for me. Basically, I got up the nerve to write to my second highest match in okc. We don't really have much in common in that I have been married, and have children, and don't have a career or a way to support myself. He the opposite of all those. But interestingly, he wrote in his homepage (which he listed in his profile) that he was very reticent with people, giving speaking examples. Especially with the opposite sex. In that way we are so similar. But apparently my mentioning reading his journal in his homepage made him decide to make it private. In truth I did feel a bit of a voyeur reading it, because at the beginning it was open and revealing. Later not. Anyway, my understanding from this is that he doesn't want contact with me, but has been answering my letters out of an old-fashioned politeness. I think what hurts is the lack of openness. Not in the sense only that he doesn't want to share his personal life, that is obviously a choice we must make to protect ourselves. But in not being open enough even to say, "Hey thanks for writing. I have reasons that I am not interested in continuing contact with you though. I wish you well." HA. I did it. I do feel better. It really isn't so bad when you put it in the light of the sun.
On the other hand, Aw publicly acclaimed me for working on making the move to the U.S. and said what a challenge it is. He offered his help and that of his friends. That was sweet and encouraging.
Whoops, apparently B brought the bed from L, because the ex asked "is this bed for me?." I told him it was for me, but I was so sleepy at the time I forgot to go out and bring it in. I will have to call L and B and thank them. L and I. are trying to get rid of everything they can to make room for the new baby (G-d willing). I am sitting in the comfortable chair they gave me as I write.
Got a letter from my parents. They enclosed a note and stickers for each child. The kids were impressed at how Gramma gave each one stickers that suited their personality, and mentioned those things in her notes.
Y says that Et gave birth to another girl. I forgot to ask the ex if it was true or Y was just confusing talk about her giving birth soon.
L is supposed to have another four weeks to her due date. I'm sorry I don't live closer so I could help her with sweet little M. I wonder what Et is doing with Ia while she is in the hospital. Her mother? B? I prefer not to know, to getting involved in the ex's family's lives. Just thinking about talking to them makes me weary.