there is unfair.

there is a lot of unfair. there is a lot of disappointed. there is a lot of cry-while-you-brush-your-teeth. there is also a lot of stubborn. there is brush your hair and put on a pretty dress and bring the flowers inside to brighten the rooms. there is pumpkin cookies and cinnamon coffee and late-day yoga in the sunlight. there is happy, or the leaning in the direction of happy. there is the choice to smile anyway.

this is just to share...

...that I am now a pirate. Not by choice mind you, but by chance. I was all geared up to take Hayden for a walk yesterday, when a car drove by at considerable speeds and managed to kick up dust and gravel, some of which must have hit my left eye. Yes. My eye. As in eyeball. Behind my glasses. My glasses are perfectly fine by the way. (This is the sort of thing in life that makes me laugh my ass off. I mean, how did nothing hit my glasses, but a little piece of gravel somehow swooped in behind the lenses at exactly the right angle to hit and damage my eye??? Hilarious!)

So of course, I (sort-of willingly) was driven to the emergency room by my sister-in-law, where I sat for a few hours dripping cold water from a compress. The docs numbed my eye, then put dye in it, and then peered into it with some special contraption, which determined that my cornea was indeed scratched by something-or-other.

So it'll be a week or so of antibiotic eye drops, cold compresses, and sunglasses. Speaking of which, I was super disappointed that I didn't get to leave the hospital with a pair of those enormously bug-eyed sunglasses that the elderly and eye-surgery patients get to wear. But I did swipe a pair of lavender-colored latex gloves, because they were lavender, so I had to have them.

In short, I'm fine. Sun and wind hurt (a lot) and I feel rather squinty and moleish, but other than that, I'm okay. I'm sincerely glad that it wasn't Hayden's eye. Seriously.

ouchie.

I haven't written anything in length about my life lately because...well, I'm just not sure how truly interested ya'll are in my spine and my meds and my iron levels and things of that nature. Because that's honestly what most of my life has consisted of recently. Which is horrible--I don't think I've ever felt more boring, with the exception of my hospital stays when I was young.

Anyway, long story short, I pinched a nerve in my neck AGAIN, about a week and a half ago, so of course, I've been stuck inside, resting a lot, taking a lot of really terrible medication, not driving, not going ANYWHERE, and just generally pulling my hair out whilst trying to take care of my 5-year-old son. I saw a neck specialist at the beginning of the month who couldn't have been less interested, I'll tell you that, so my options are still up in the air. I'm thinking I may try accupuncture next? I don't know. Have any of you tried this? If so, was it helpful?

I'm a lot better now, able to move and exercise again. Life is tough though because I know, eventually, this will just happen again. It could be tomorrow or three months from now.

I'm going to tell you something else: bedrest is good for getting some painting done.

*sketchbook: critters, watercolor and ink*

*water and mountains: paper, mixed media, acrylic on canvas*

*ink and watercolor on book paper*

And now for what's left after any of my various illnesses and injuries: about seven loads of laundry, the cooking-up of real food for my boys (I feel the need to make up for the amount of spaghetti-o's and mcdonald's consumed), some thrift shopping, and some precious time spent with family.

*Thank God my husband actually DOES things. Lots of things. I can not imagine being married to a lazy bum who doesn't lift a finger to help. Speaking of the husband, his birthday is in 7 days!! Looks like I'll be crafting up some gifts as well.

breaking up with bitchy.

There has been a lot happening over the last month or so here. Things that I'd rather not mention in the internet world. I have a fine line of what I share, one that is very loosely defined, but I definitely know it when I feel it. I know what I'll share or explain, and what I'll leave to interpretation.

So let's ignore the what and focus on who. Moi. All of what's been happening has caused me to take a deep and very scary look inward. Not even a handful of days ago, I had a realization:

I do not like who I am becoming.

I realized that I'm turning into the type of woman who, for example, instead of enjoying playing with my son, is instead worrying about cleaning up the mess of play only 5 minutes into building towers. The type of woman who incessantly nags her husband because, hey, he does things a little differently than her. The type of woman who gets annoyed when said husband is listening to music and dancing around joyfully.

I am annoyed by my husbands joy.

What?!?!? What the fuck is wrong with me? Honestly!?1

It's clear to me that I am trying to exert control over pretty much everything in my life. What I can't figure out is why.

Actually, maybe I can.

My father--completely estranged from me--recently found me on my Facebook page and sent me a friend request. I can't say I'm actually that surprised. These days, everyone has a Facebook account. I had even checked at one time to see if he was on there, floating around in cyberspace. He wasn't, not when I looked, but has once again resurfaced in my life at a completely unexpected time.

My father completely unhinges me as a person. That is the honest truth.

This man, who at no other time makes ANY effort to contact me, now wants to have a shallow internet relationship. (I'm well aware that maybe he thinks that Facebook might open up to other things, but he seems to be forgetting that HE HAS TO PICK UP A PHONE AND ACTUALLY DIAL THE NUMBERS TO CALL ME.)

Anywho...I know how scattered and weird this blog entry is and I apologize. I am scattered and weird, so what can you do?

But the above has been bothering me--very, VERY much. I seem to always step into the same box when I'm having my daddy-issues: I become controlling, unattentive, obsessed with the weirdest, most unimportant details, and bitchy. Examples?

Hmmm...oh, you know. Ridiculous crap. Like, "Hayden, put the friggin' M&M's back. You can't have them. You'll turn into an obese person." (Yes, like RIGHT NOW. Like the blueberry girl in Willy Wonka. I'm a fucking idiot.)

Or maybe my husband trying to cheer me up by taking me out for lunch or trying to joke around or tickle me. And I just respond SO well. Oh yes! You know, I marvel at my iron will when it comes to this. You could hand me a million dollars and a nanny and a new ass and I would still be a bitch.

So yes...I've been wondering what is wrong with me. Am I imbalanced? Do I have a hormonal issue? Do I consume too much animal flesh and caffeine? (Probably yes, to all three.)

It's enough. If my beautiful little boy asks me to dance with him to Lady Gaga and I refuse, simply because I just don't FEEL like it, then IT. IS. ENOUGH. I can't take myself anymore. I have been so bloody off-balance for a while now, and even though I know exactly what to do to heal myself, I haven't been doing it because I'm a sulky, LAZY ASS.

The remedies are actually pretty simple:

- stop drinking 45 cups of coffee a day. Too much coffee is known to make people extremely irritable, especially when the body is coming down off the caffeine and--BOOM!--crashes hard. One cup in the morning, then green tea or yerba mate the rest of the day.

- get back into yoga. In what reality do I live that I think yoga is not a necessity for me? I am the world's most anxious person, always tearing my cuticles apart and pacing around, and when I do yoga regularly I am actually normal. I am calm. I can think rationally. I did yoga the past two days after not doing it for, I don't know, a month and a half? I honestly wondered how I could punish myself by living without it.

- go vegan. At least for a while. I've never been a full-on vegetarian, but I do like to cleanse occasionally with an all-vegan diet. This I have not done in....I don't know. My body is fueled with the flesh and proteins of other living creatures, a lot of salt, some butter, and ginger ale for the resulting stomach cramps. Very little that is of the earth. To myself I say: Idiot woman.

- journal. Like, you know, a journal that NO ONE reads. Ever. A journal where I am free to spout even more self-indulgently than here. Where I can get it OUT. Whatever "it" might be at the moment. (Ramblings about my idiot-father? Could be!)

That's it. Simple. And I haven't been doing it. I am a moron. I am treating myself and everyone around me like crap because of my negligence. Granted, I haven't been doing it for very long, but I don't care. I was raised in an environment where, if you were tired or bored or unhappy, it gave you reason to treat everyone around you horribly, WHICH IS SUCH UTTER BULLSHIT AND I WILL NOT REPEAT THIS CYCLE.

Today was day one. I danced with my son and chased him with my "scary face" and goofed-off with him. Tonight I plan on actually shaving and seducing my husband. I might even give him a foot massage, who knows?

And--Lord please help me with this one--I am going to stop complaining. I am a blessed woman. No matter how determined I am to be unhappy, there is NO WAY around that fact. I have a home that I painted with any colors I chose. I have enough food to eat--even if there's a week here and there where we live off of pancakes and eggs and brown rice. I have a husband who isn't perfect, but who loves me so much it can make him cry openly (and who also does laundry). I have a brother who is me, if I were tall and male.

No more. No mas. I'm done. I know it sounds corny as hell, but I am breaking up with bitchy.

we jammin'...

Today I am making blackberry jam.

I might also be listening to a mix of Bob Marley, Kings of Leon, and Bon Iver.

I could be trying to cheer myself up.

Sometimes you lose someone close to you--and not in the permanent sense--and you start to see them everywhere. Not "them" in their body, walking around, but "them" in the objects you're surrounded with. The vintage purse, the pair of shoes, the pile of pink fabric that will never be sewn into tiny, little-girl clothes.

Sometimes there is absolutely nothing you can do about the situation. You cry and your husband hugs you for a while and then you decide to eat your feelings so you make some jam and slather it on a thick piece of bread with butter.

You have tea.

You're still sad, but not as sad.

Basic Jam Recipe

Ingredients:
- any quantity of any kind of berries you love
- sugar
- water

Put a splash of water in a heavy-bottomed saucepan and turn the heat to med/high. Put your fruit in and bring it to a nice bubble. Cover the fruit with a thin layer of sugar and mix in. Let it bubble away for about 30 minutes, checking on it to make sure it doesn't burn or stick. You can add more sugar or less depending on your taste. Less sugar will make a runnier jam because it's the sugar that thickens the fruits juices into a syrup.

Once you've got it to the consistency and taste you're looking for, turn it off and let cool before putting into jars.

Life always gets better. Eventually.