Pinch of this, splash of stuff.
So how are things? Good? Yeah, I guess me, too.
Violette's birthday went off without a hitch. Instead of lumping all her presents into one jam-packed hour of flying gift wrap and thrown and forgotten toys, I decided to space her presents out for the whole day. That worked WAY better. She got a lot of stuff, mostly princess-themed. Her last present was a Tinkerbell TV for her room with all the princess movies I could find. Do you think I may be compensating for getting raised like a boy here? Thanks Dad for the gender identity crisis, but my daughter's going to be all girl. And she is, even without me shoving frills, tights, or purple stuff down her throat.
It's funny to look at her and see her mirror me. Things I never knew about myself bleed out through her. She's a very caring little girl. Always wants to snuggle, always trying to take care of the boys, loves to bake. I see a little me. And for all the good things that she takes after me for, I can't help but wonder what bad traits she's going to pick up that are going to burden her down the road when she's older. I worry a lot for her. I have to. She's my only daughter. I remember being in agreement with Sandy that when she turned 11 we would spike her morning orange juice with birth control. Haha. I miss him sometimes. Even as happy as I am with Mike, a family with Sandy was organic. He was the father of my two youngest. I'm never going to have that again. Something I don't like to put a lot of energy focusing on, but something that I think about every now and then regardless.
But more and more, everyday, Mike works his way into my little heart. You would think he would be all up in it by now, but it takes a while with me. I love him to death, but trust is earned, not given. Though let it be said that I trust him more than any other person I've dated. I trust him. Period. And that's awesome that I'm dating someone whom deserves that kind of faith from me. We really are a family...as broken as bizarre as it seems. He reads the kids books before they go to bed. When Nicky gets hurt, he'll run to Mike. Violette calls him "my Mike." It's almost effortless. And me? Well, you know I am totally butt-crazy in love with him. Duh.
And so in other news, I talked to Uncle Ed last friday. After I got done writing that epic blog about him I decided something needed to be done. So I drove out to his house, making a stop along the way to pick up a pack of cigarettes for him. He wasn't there, so I left the smokes under a tarp, wrote him a little note on an old receipt telling him to call me and the location of the cigarettes, then left. He called me the next day and told me thanks for the smokes, it was very thoughtful. I told him we were having a poker game that night with the boys-apparently I'm lumped in with them-and that he should come. He actually ended up showing up. Gasp! And in true Ed fashion parked his blazer on my lawn.
The night wore on and people started getting too drunk to just sit down and play cards. I wasn't totally drunk, but I wasn't totally sober, either. I started talking to him and then I started crying so we took the conversation upstairs. I told him I knew about his drug usage-he's one of those people that seems to think that he's the only one that can tell-and how bad it had gotten over the last five years or so. I told him about not being able to recognize him when he was walking down the street, that I thought he was a bum. I was bawling by this point. He was just quiet and listened. I told him Kim was a bad influence on him, that even as much as he loves her, he's gone downhill since he started dating her. I told him that he deserved better for himself...that should really be my tagline, seeing as how I say it to almost everybody...and that if he kept doing what he was doing then he was going to die.
It was a big unload for me. I cried accordingly. He hugged me and told me it was going to be ok. But it wasn't. He told me that it wasn't always Kim that wanted to do meth, that sometimes he was the one to convince her. No matter. I apologized through tears for burdening him with my emotional outpour, and he told me that I never needed to apologize for that. That there was nothing that I couldn't tell him, and that it would NEVER be a burden on him. That made me feel a little better. But even through the tears and the sadness I could see that nothing was going to change.
Sadly, even as distraught as I was, I managed to pull some psych stuff out on him. I told him that he needed to get help from a doctor for depression. That I knew that Grandma Bobbe had depression issues and had tried to kill herself. I told him I knew that he felt suicidal, because I KNOW HIM. And I was right. He told me that sometimes he's just waiting for death. That broke my heart.
That's something you don't want to hear from the people you love. I told him that I just wanted to see him doing better. That's all. That I cared enough about him to even bring it up. He told me he would try. He said it was hard, but he'd try. Then he went home.
We'll see where that goes. I don't expect much, though I know he's capable of moving mountains when he has to.
So that's all on that topic. Next...
My birthday is coming up. First year in a long time I really haven't made any plans. I don't know why...I guess I just got lost planning everybody else's stuff and kind of forgot to plan anything for myself. Rachel is going to take me to Sigur Ros, though I have some guilt about that. I hear it's a pretty coveted ticket to get. And I've never even heard their music before. But it was a mighty generous thing to do, seeing as how she could probably use the money from selling it more than taking me with her. Such is Rachel. Always the giving one. I appreciate it, though. Without her I wouldn't be doing anything.
Maybe I'll go out on Saturday night. I don't know. I don't really have a lot of money. I still have to buy Violette and Nicky a birthday cake for their party on Friday. I still have to buy pizza for all the kids, too. Plus, I totally spaced and forgot that I had to pay Violette's tuition for preschool today. So I'm pretty much flat broke. If it seems ridiculous to you, it's even more so for me. I'm actually going to have to pawn some stuff to take my Dad out shooting Saturday. PAWN STUFF. And I get almost six grand a month. Fuck. Talk about living beyond your means.
No matter though. I think when I get checks I'm going to get half in cash and put the rest away in the bank. That way if I go somewhere I can only take so much with me to spend. It'll probably work out better that way. I need to get a handle on it. It's just that there's so much stuff that this house needs, I'm really not spending all too much on stuff besides that. Whatever. Money gives me a headache.
So I have to go buy some chocolate cake stuffs for my Dad so I can make him a cake. Today is his birthday. And Piper's. And Sarah's. Anyone else wanna get on the Libra train?
Violette's birthday went off without a hitch. Instead of lumping all her presents into one jam-packed hour of flying gift wrap and thrown and forgotten toys, I decided to space her presents out for the whole day. That worked WAY better. She got a lot of stuff, mostly princess-themed. Her last present was a Tinkerbell TV for her room with all the princess movies I could find. Do you think I may be compensating for getting raised like a boy here? Thanks Dad for the gender identity crisis, but my daughter's going to be all girl. And she is, even without me shoving frills, tights, or purple stuff down her throat.
It's funny to look at her and see her mirror me. Things I never knew about myself bleed out through her. She's a very caring little girl. Always wants to snuggle, always trying to take care of the boys, loves to bake. I see a little me. And for all the good things that she takes after me for, I can't help but wonder what bad traits she's going to pick up that are going to burden her down the road when she's older. I worry a lot for her. I have to. She's my only daughter. I remember being in agreement with Sandy that when she turned 11 we would spike her morning orange juice with birth control. Haha. I miss him sometimes. Even as happy as I am with Mike, a family with Sandy was organic. He was the father of my two youngest. I'm never going to have that again. Something I don't like to put a lot of energy focusing on, but something that I think about every now and then regardless.
But more and more, everyday, Mike works his way into my little heart. You would think he would be all up in it by now, but it takes a while with me. I love him to death, but trust is earned, not given. Though let it be said that I trust him more than any other person I've dated. I trust him. Period. And that's awesome that I'm dating someone whom deserves that kind of faith from me. We really are a family...as broken as bizarre as it seems. He reads the kids books before they go to bed. When Nicky gets hurt, he'll run to Mike. Violette calls him "my Mike." It's almost effortless. And me? Well, you know I am totally butt-crazy in love with him. Duh.
And so in other news, I talked to Uncle Ed last friday. After I got done writing that epic blog about him I decided something needed to be done. So I drove out to his house, making a stop along the way to pick up a pack of cigarettes for him. He wasn't there, so I left the smokes under a tarp, wrote him a little note on an old receipt telling him to call me and the location of the cigarettes, then left. He called me the next day and told me thanks for the smokes, it was very thoughtful. I told him we were having a poker game that night with the boys-apparently I'm lumped in with them-and that he should come. He actually ended up showing up. Gasp! And in true Ed fashion parked his blazer on my lawn.
The night wore on and people started getting too drunk to just sit down and play cards. I wasn't totally drunk, but I wasn't totally sober, either. I started talking to him and then I started crying so we took the conversation upstairs. I told him I knew about his drug usage-he's one of those people that seems to think that he's the only one that can tell-and how bad it had gotten over the last five years or so. I told him about not being able to recognize him when he was walking down the street, that I thought he was a bum. I was bawling by this point. He was just quiet and listened. I told him Kim was a bad influence on him, that even as much as he loves her, he's gone downhill since he started dating her. I told him that he deserved better for himself...that should really be my tagline, seeing as how I say it to almost everybody...and that if he kept doing what he was doing then he was going to die.
It was a big unload for me. I cried accordingly. He hugged me and told me it was going to be ok. But it wasn't. He told me that it wasn't always Kim that wanted to do meth, that sometimes he was the one to convince her. No matter. I apologized through tears for burdening him with my emotional outpour, and he told me that I never needed to apologize for that. That there was nothing that I couldn't tell him, and that it would NEVER be a burden on him. That made me feel a little better. But even through the tears and the sadness I could see that nothing was going to change.
Sadly, even as distraught as I was, I managed to pull some psych stuff out on him. I told him that he needed to get help from a doctor for depression. That I knew that Grandma Bobbe had depression issues and had tried to kill herself. I told him I knew that he felt suicidal, because I KNOW HIM. And I was right. He told me that sometimes he's just waiting for death. That broke my heart.
That's something you don't want to hear from the people you love. I told him that I just wanted to see him doing better. That's all. That I cared enough about him to even bring it up. He told me he would try. He said it was hard, but he'd try. Then he went home.
We'll see where that goes. I don't expect much, though I know he's capable of moving mountains when he has to.
So that's all on that topic. Next...
My birthday is coming up. First year in a long time I really haven't made any plans. I don't know why...I guess I just got lost planning everybody else's stuff and kind of forgot to plan anything for myself. Rachel is going to take me to Sigur Ros, though I have some guilt about that. I hear it's a pretty coveted ticket to get. And I've never even heard their music before. But it was a mighty generous thing to do, seeing as how she could probably use the money from selling it more than taking me with her. Such is Rachel. Always the giving one. I appreciate it, though. Without her I wouldn't be doing anything.
Maybe I'll go out on Saturday night. I don't know. I don't really have a lot of money. I still have to buy Violette and Nicky a birthday cake for their party on Friday. I still have to buy pizza for all the kids, too. Plus, I totally spaced and forgot that I had to pay Violette's tuition for preschool today. So I'm pretty much flat broke. If it seems ridiculous to you, it's even more so for me. I'm actually going to have to pawn some stuff to take my Dad out shooting Saturday. PAWN STUFF. And I get almost six grand a month. Fuck. Talk about living beyond your means.
No matter though. I think when I get checks I'm going to get half in cash and put the rest away in the bank. That way if I go somewhere I can only take so much with me to spend. It'll probably work out better that way. I need to get a handle on it. It's just that there's so much stuff that this house needs, I'm really not spending all too much on stuff besides that. Whatever. Money gives me a headache.
So I have to go buy some chocolate cake stuffs for my Dad so I can make him a cake. Today is his birthday. And Piper's. And Sarah's. Anyone else wanna get on the Libra train?