Posts filed under 'Life'
I’m back home after a week in Texas. Posting will be light this week as I try to readjust to the time zone again and the sheer exhaustion of all the remodeling I did over the past 7 days.
I’m really sorry for the sparse posting and scarce content when I do. Things will be back to normal soon. August is a crazy month, especially with our move coming up in 10 days.
I really appreciate all of the wonderful support that I’ve been offered by perfect strangers. I’ll be back soon, please don’t give up on me. I read everything that’s sent my way, and one day soon I’ll sit down and return all of the e-mails and comments.
August 14th, 2008
WE GOT THE APARTMENT!!
Housing down, job to go.
July 30th, 2008
I think it’s safe to say I’m a true California citizen now, because this morning at 11:42 I experienced my very first earthquake.
I was sitting on the floor cleaning up various paperwork I’d been sorting, and DS was on the futon behind me playing his Nintendo DS. I started to stand up and place a stack of papers on the bookshelf, and I heard this loud rumble, like a big truck was passing by or a helicopter was flying too low. Then it felt like someone violently shoved me from behind and I nearly fell. Before I could ask DS what the heck was wrong with him; why would he push me, the floor turned to Jello and the rumbling kicked into high gear.
DS’ response? “WEEEEEEEEEEEEE!! This is FUN Mommy!!”
My response? A bit of panic that it would get worse, and a lunge to grab DS, then our TV and Wii before they toppled over.
The shaking was pretty violent as far as all of our stuff was concerned. The floor movement, though, is what really freaked me out. It just felt like everything was rolling. And then, maybe 8-10 seconds after it started, it stopped. I was dialing DH before the last rumble was finished. When I heard his voice I immediately started to cry. He was on the bus at the time and he said it was a very strange sensation, because the bus started swaying back and forth and the driver thought she was losing control. When the noise started in full, they finally realized what it was.
Initially, it was said to be a 5.6, but was downgraded to a 5.4. There have been 34 aftershocks as I type this, but we only felt one here, and it registered a 3.6.
The best part? And let me warn you, I couldn’t make this up if I tried. All of our pictures on the wall are crazy crooked now, except for one. The portrait of Jesus.
July 29th, 2008
I certainly feel like a rodent, with all the nervous scurrying around I’ve been doing. I’m behind with my pictures, and I will update at some point today. This week could mean big new things for us, and all of my time and attention has been directed on these developments. We live in a teeny tiny house right now (300 square feet, oh my!). It’s essentially a one bedroom, so DS got the room and DH and I sleep on a futon in the living room. We found it quickly upon arrival and it’s very charming, so we snatched it up as fast as we could. After all, we were sleeping in our car until we found something, so time wasn’t exactly on our side. I get pretty cranky without a shower. ANYWAY.
So, yeah, 300 sq. ft. for a family of 3 is pushing things to the brink of where they can go. On one hand it was super, because we purged almost everything and now we’re not trapped in a house full of useless clutter that I have to find the motivation to dust and hide when company comes over. However, here, there is no company coming over. Where would they fit? For Mormons, this is a big issue. People always want to come over.
So I’ve been halfheartedly looking around for an apartment. We’ve never lived in an apartment before (although I lived in plenty of them in my single days), and I was trying to avoid it, because neighbors a yard away can be bad enough, much less being on the other side of your wall or on top of you. But the California market being what it is, we simply can’t afford a larger rental house right now, and we certainly cant afford to buy yet. Through my searches for a new place, I realized we actually found a pretty spectacular deal on the place we have. This was not good.
Saturday evening I found an ad for an apartment with two whole bedrooms, an amazingly reasonable price for this area, and they were having an open house on Sunday. So after Church, we headed over to check it out. It was perfect. And HUGE. Based on my quick measurements, it was just under 1,000 sq. ft. We won’t even know what to do with so much space, we have so little now. But the pure joy on our son’s face of being able to just run around and have room to play was enough. We filled out an application and left a deposit.
Now I’m in this horrible mode, because as the spouse I’m required to be on the application, even though DH is the financially responsible one. My credit sucks. I made some stupid, stupid, STUPID mistakes when I was a teenager and thought I was in love with a boy who was only taking advantage of me - and my credit, without my knowledge. When it became impossible for me to pay it back, not to mention have a clue on how to fix it, , I just had to let it go. Enough time has passed that I’m finally able to begin cleaning up my credit report, but it’s a tedious process. I was too young and too stupid to do what I should have done then, and have that jerk arrested for fraud and a myriad of other things, but I didn’t, so the blame and responsibility stayed with me. Not to mention that identity theft laws and reactions were far different ten years ago than they are now, and even now they’re sorely lacking.
So here we have this great apartment, it’s almost too perfect, and we may not get it because of my credit. I was honest with the lady and told her what she’d find on the report, and she said that if everything checks out as I say, then we shouldn’t have a problem because everything is so old. I sincerely hope that she was telling me the truth. I am trying to stop myself from wanting this place because it’s not a done deal, but it’s difficult. I want our baby to have a bedroom where he actually has room to play. I can keep sleeping on the couch forever, no biggie, but he needs more than what he has, which isn’t much. I feel guilty for taking him from a huge house into a teeny one on our whim and hopes and dreams, and never giving him the choice or even much of a warning.
So there’s the new place, and then there’s also the new job that DH interviewed for last week. If we get the apartment, and he gets the job, he’ll be working a half mile from our house. No more bus pass to buy and no more bus to ride! For him, that will save him 4 hours per day of public transportation commute, which is HUGE. The new job will come with more money, which will cover the increase in rent. The new place also puts DS in the best schools in our district, which is a bonus I won’t overlook. I’m scared poopless of him mainstreaming into kindergarten. I’m elated about it, because - HELLO - major progress and hard work on his part, but I have a healthy fear of how cruel kids can be and I don’t want anything to make him lose his love of school.
Oy. Prayer is the word of the day.
July 28th, 2008
I wasn’t tagged, because I’m never tagged, but I wanted to do this one. I was dying to know what my son would say. His responses are in bold, mine are italics. I don’t say much about DS on my blog, so I’ll explain a bit about him. He just turned 5 years old. He has Asperger’s Syndrome and has autism (high-functioning). He has been in special education since he was 3, and he will mainstream into regular kindergarten in August.
He did not utter a word until he was two years old, and since then it has been a lot of therapy to get him to where he is. There are days when I wish he would stop talking because he talks so much now, and I want to smack myself silly on those days. That little voice is one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever heard.
What is something mom always says to you?
I love you.
I love you.
What makes mom happy?
Spending time with my boys.
A girly dress. Mommy, do I get to play my game soon? If I do dis?
What makes mom sad?
Missing my parents.
Needing a haircut.
How does mom make you laugh?
I sing silly songs in my best opera singer voice.
You are sneaky and you scare me!
What was mom like as a child?
A lot like you, always exploring things and testing my Mom’s limits. And I liked to be alone.
You prolly didn’t drive our car then.
How old is mom?
28
Fifteen eighty. Not too old. But you know a-lotsa stuff, so maybe old old?
How tall is mom?
5′6″
Bigger.
What is mom’s favorite thing to do?
Take photographs.
Take pictures.
What does mom do when you’re not around?
Clean. Watch bad reality TV.
Make more pictures and prolly some workjobs too.
If mom becomes famous, what will it be for?
Photography. More likely, for being married to someone famous.
Because you would be a beauuuutiful mermaid!
What is mom really good at?
Learning new things.
Video games.
What is mom not very good at?
Cooking.
Killing ants.
What is mom’s job?
I’m a Mom and a Photographer.
You do workjobs with your computer and big camera.
What is mom’s favorite food?
Cheeses and berries and BREAD.
Chicken.
What makes you proud of mom?
I think he is proud of knowing that I love him unconditionally and that I will always be here for him.
Because I am proud of all of our hugs and loves. Can I play my game now?
If mom were a cartoon character, who would she be?
Transformer Bumblebee, because I love music so much and use it to express myself. Plus yellow makes me happy.
The Tankman. Because he is open fire and super tough and he is a boss.
*Note: I believe Tankman is someone he invented, because I’ve never heard of him and neither has Google.
What do you and mom do together?
Play games, sing songs, wrestle, play chase, ride bikes, and shop.
We ride bikes and play games.
How are you and mom the same?
We have the same smile and we’re both very loving.
Because I love you so much and you love me so much.
How are you and mom different?
He has blue eyes and looks just as much like Daddy as he does me.
I go to school. What about now? To play my game?
How do you know mom loves you?
I tell him and show him every day.
Because you hug me and talk sweet even when I make a mess.
July 25th, 2008
In a previous post, I mentioned how I have a bit of the crazy going on this year. I know this is going to sound silly, maybe even bizarre, but it is what it is for me, and I’ve not yet figured out how to stop being afraid of things are, frankly, borderline ridiculous.
When I was 5 years old, my Dad died after a long battle with lung cancer. It was the first day of Kindergarten. I’ll keep a long story short by saying the rest of my school experience (yes, all the way through HS graduation) thoroughly sucked.
Somewhere along the line I decided that I’d never get married or have kids, because I saw what it was for my Mom to lose a husband, and I never wanted my children to go through the pain of losing a parent. But I also worried about an uglier twist of fate, and that would be losing a child. Then, of course, I grew into adulthood and that whole “falling in love” business shattered my plans. Go figure.
I battled cancer myself as a young adult, and I cursed God for his cruelty and wondered what I had done to deserve it. I was afraid of going to sleep, afraid of not waking up. Although my cancer was caught early and I knew I was going to make it, chemo will easily make you feel as though you are definitely going to die, and I could not shake the fear. I was told by numerous doctors that I’d never have children, and I found that I was actually glad. I thought if I ever desired kids, I’d simply adopt. End of story.
I met my now husband. He married me knowing I couldn’t have children. He said he didn’t care, and he meant it. We conceived our son on our honeymoon. He is an amazing kid, healthy, full of joy. He loves life. I am a better person for having him.
However. He just turned 5 years old. He will begin kindergarten in August. I am terrified that something will happen to DH. No matter what I do I can not shake the fear of losing my husband, and my son losing his father. I understand that my fear is irrational, unfounded, even pointless. The knowledge does nothing to ease the fear and panic. It makes me angry with myself for disallowing my common sense to take over. It frustrates me that I’m so… superstitious? Would that be it?
So there it is. I even feel weird typing it out, but it’s true, and I don’t run from truth anymore. I just need to figure out how to better deal with it, I guess.
July 10th, 2008
In yet another week of disarray, and I’m not yet back on schedule. This morning the scale showed 209, which is badbadbad. The house is a disaster as we struggle to find time to get everything repaired and assembled so that we can have something resembling organization.
DH has been horribly sick the past week and a half, which is a rarity for him, and I need his help with so much of what needs to be done. Not to mention I’ve been in a foul mood from the lack of time alone with him. I’ve had an interesting week with DS which warrants an entire post of its own.
The one bright spot this week was finding out that our check engine light was due to a bad catalytic converter, which, amazingly, was actually covered under the crap Hyundai warranty (and thanks to the federal government). Had we been a few thousand miles further along, it would have cost us in the neighborhood of $1500 to repair.
I have a pile of laundry as tall as I am to fold, so at least it will be ready for placement in our soon to be assembled wardrobe. I’ll try to find time to post something of substance tomorrow.
July 2nd, 2008
I know, I know. I keep promising to get back on the stick, get this ball rolling again. Big wheel keep on turning and all that jazz. I am going through a ridiculous funk right now and I’m actually really trying to find my way out of it. Unfortunately, it seems I’m floundering helplessly like I usually tend to do.
I miss my Mother. A lot. Like, I seriously want to hug her so bad right now that I am going into the ugly cry just thinking about it. I am nearly thirty, and nothing in the world could make me as happy as a hug from my Mom right now. I think being an adult means you can admit to things like that and feel no shame. I have fantastic parents. I miss them a lot.
This is the first time I’ve lived more than 7 miles from my parents. Ever. I’ve always had a relationship with my family that most people cannot understand. It’s not too close in a creepy sort of way, it’s more like happy la-la storybook lands kind of family love with just enough witty dysfunctional banter that I think most people long for. I am blessed to have it. I have alweays realized this, and have made almost all of my life plans based on the proximity to my parent’s home.
Until now. Now I live in California. My parents remain in Texas. I call them everday, and sometimes it is enough. More often it is not. And each day that passes where I don’t get to hear my Dad say, “Have I told you how wonderful you are today?” or re-tells me the same story about what he read in the paper eighteen times until my brain is ready to explode from boredom, or each time my Mom doesn’t bug me with 99 phone calls a day wondering if I can help her figure out online bill pay, or just wondering what I was doing, or to complain about her job, I miss them even more.
The perfect thing about my parents is their complete ability to embrace their imperfection without apology. They are who they are, take it or leave it. They’ve never once claimed or tried to be perfect, yet they are so perfectly loveable in ther imperfection. That’s why we’re so close. Everyone is honest, in words, in actions, in character as a whole. I miss sharing the bond I have with them in a physical way. It’s still very much there, but a phone call just isn’t a hug.
Moments like this I wish I wasn’t anonymous, so I could link my Mom to this entry, so she would know that I am crying right now, too. I am missing you as much as you miss me. But as hard as this is and will continue to be, I need to thank you for giving me the wings to follow, embrace, and live my own dreams.
You raised me in such a way that I am unafraid to live my life to its fullest potential, and you should be proud. You are everything that I want to be in a parent, and I can only hope I will fill the very large shoes you’ve left for me. I’d never have done this without you, and although you may regret giving me the mere notion to fly so far away, it has been the best gift you’ve ever given me; the one that truly let me know I am more loved than I could ever have imagined possible.
I know you always thought I loved Dad more, but the truth is, I loved you just as much, always. I just never knew how to show you. By going against the easy way, and taking this path, I am showing you by keeping my promise to never have the regrets that you did. I always listened. I always learned from you. I was just waiting for the right time to show you how much you’ve taught me, what I could do because of you.
I love you, Mom.
June 24th, 2008
It must still be Monday, because today is just full of SUCK.
I went to bed last night with a strange pain in my hip. It hurts like crazy when I bend down, like someone is pinching me internally, and they want to hear mercy before they let up. It was annoying when I went to bed, but by the middle of the night it was pretty bad and I actually woke up a few times from the pain. This morning I am a little limpy, and the nagging pinch is still there. I can’t figure out if I pulled a muscle or what, but I really don’t want to have to find a doctor for this.
I awake at 6:38 a.m. to the phone ringing. No one calls that early. I assume it is DH and that something is wrong (or at the very least, irritating, and he needs to vent). I can’t find the phone amidst the covers, and I miss the call. I dial DH’s cell phone. No answer. I am still groggy from sleep, and manage to fall into a restless slumber for another half hour. I jolt awake, and dial DH again. No answer. I text. No response. I wait for fifteen minutes, because since the move our cell reception has been spotty at best. Nothing.
I enter a minor state of panic that quickly evolved into on-my-knees prayer in the middle of the kitchen floor, complete with waterworks. I have this thing I’ve dubbed the “5 year phobia” that went into full effect within minutes - but more on that in another post. I pace the house and cry and worry, trying not to wake our son. He finally calls a bit after 8. He is fine, at work. His cell is working as well as mine, which is close to not at all. I feel a little foolish, but the relief outweighs it.
I get the baby off to school without incident, but get a little lost on the way to pick him up. Supposedly, the A/C compressor in our car is going out, but thanks to the $700 cost for replacement, we will forgo that repair for awhile. It has been pretty darn hot the past few days, and when I drive with the windows down it’s hard to hear the GPS. I missed at least 6 turns and was 5 minutes late picking him up. I arrive and they are getting ready to load him onto the bus. Nevermind that they haven’t called me to finalize his bus service and probably had no idea where he lives.
Ah yes, while we’re on that subject, it is Wednesday and the bus company has not called me to work out his bus service. DH needs the car for a meeting 50 miles away on Friday. If the bus service hasn’t started by then, we have a mess on our hands.
On the way home from school, the check engine light comes on. In Texas, our engine was covered by a 10 year/10,000 mile warranty for engine issues. In California, apparently they’re only required to cover it up to 7 years/70,000 miles. We have 71,000 miles on the car. *Insert a vicious stream of profanity here.* It costs $105 for them to plug their stupid code reader into my car. I bought my own reader off the internet for less than $20, and I can Google the codes it comes back with, and probably fix it my damn self. We’ll try that route first. I just finished spending $800 for new tires and a complete brake job. I am loathe to sink any more money into a car we barely use.
I bought $500 worth of organization heaven from Ikea while DS was at school. A bunch of men stand around and watch me load several 100 pound boxes by myself. Not one of them offers a hand, and they are all employees. I lock eyes with one man and he says, “Sorry, no speak English.” As if speaking the same language has anything at all to do with common decency/manners/helping me load this crap onto this runaway cart. I give them a healthy dose of stink eye and manage to get it all done myself. In the loading area, the men are very nice, but also do not speak English. They lift everything for me, but shove it into our car in such a way that I can only hope no corners are damaged. I realize when I arrive home that getting this stuff into the house alone is going to be hell. The cart I cursed before I now long for. I manage, and break quite a sweat getting everything inside. Now I have to put it all together. It was much more fun picking it all out. *sigh*
We sleep on a Beddinge futon from Ikea that has actually been pretty comfortable (if you’re lucky enough to sleep on the right side, because the left side for some reason won’t lay flat so you’re sleeping on a slight incline that makes you feel like you’re clinging to the bed for dear life), but today I somehow broke it. I clicked it up twice and prepared to push down so it would convert into a couch, and I hear a weird springy snap. Now it won’t fold up. Ikea will take it back for an exchange, if I can figure out how to get it into the car without taking it apart. Apparently that’s one of the rules.
My first bad day in Cali, and it was a doozy.
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Edited at 5:30pm to add: Attempted to do some laundry, but the change machine at the laundromat was out of service. We have no more clean towels.
I somehow failed to buy an integral piece at Ikea for the armoire, now they are out of stock. One week until it’s in.
I forgot to turn off the stove burner and completely ruined a pan and a ladle that was filled with (once) delicious nacho cheese dip.
I had our brand new boogie board in the trunk and I somehow managed to rip one of the corners loading and/or unloading crap. We haven’t even had a chance to use it yet.
I pulled into our driveway and was ready to give in to tears again. Every single aspect of today has been a struggle in some way, and I have had enough. My son asked me something about playing video games tonight, and I snapped at him about having more important things on my mind than his video game allowance. His response? “Aw, Mommy. You are my sweet girl. Thank you for trying so hard.” Then I got a big, undeserved hug. One that I really needed.
June 18th, 2008
I’m in the final stages of settling in, and I’m sorry for the lack of updates. I have been loathe to get near a computer. My entire life revolved around computers when we lived in Texas, and now that I am free of that, it’s been hard to go back even a little.
Monday I’ll resume regular daily updates. I’m working on some posts with more meat behind them, but honestly it’s just not a priority. I feel like I’ve been given a second chance in so many ways. I don’t want to waste it.
June 14th, 2008
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