Two very full days with Bones. Yesterday was super busy and horrible. He was cranky, whiny, spoiled, impatient and given to crying jags, and I wasn’t far behind on any count, and you can add stern, unrelenting and bitchy to my list. The day off just didn’t sit right with either of us and our tension bounced against the other like lottery machine balls in an air machine you’re hoping will drop in the right numbers to change your life. I haven’t played the lottery in a long time, but I think I might start. The $800 bill from D’s ER visit this winter has ballooned into more than $1600 now that all the physicians, radiology, facility and other charges are rolling in, and none of it covered by insurance because it’s all “pre-deductible.” The fucking country’s insurance system is so fucking broken. It’s probably the number one reason my thoughts most often turn to leaving this country for good. That and the school systems, but I’ve done the best I can with that, and at least for now, and continue to fight for change there as well – things could be much worse where D is, school-wise, so I can deal with it. Mostly. So yeah now my “half” is $800, along with the $800 I owe the city for tax that wasn’t taken out by my job by accident last year. This shit is starting to press on me, the walls closing in. Some other financial burdens have been lightened just a bit as of late, otherwise I would probably crack under the strain. I will figure it out, one way or another.
I need a good, long run. But if I go out tomorrow, my lungs will pay, and more drugs and I know better, and I need to just not do that. I would rather not run at all than do a really long run on the treadmill, so no run tomorrow. I am hoping to get a couple short runs in during the week this coming week. I have a work meeting tomorrow night, dinner with a group of friends Wednesday, a theater reading Thursday night, and possibly two out of town friends coming in Friday night, so that basically leaves workday lunches to exercise, and a couple of weeknights. Not sure my workload this week will allow for it, but I will try. I will not beat myself up about it if I can’t. It’s not likely I will be lying on my deathbed thinking, gee, I wish I had worked out more. I work out plenty. Balance is also important.
The printer/scanner is still broken, and now buying a new one seems unwise. D still doesn’t have a big boy bed. These things are not emergencies, however, and I will get them taken care of. There are kids sleeping on the floor. I have limited use of the printer at work. I will manage.
I had a lot of errands yesterday, and more today, but the ones today were more fun and less urgent. There was an extended amount of time for acting silly in the car, for board games, for D helping me cook, for protracted time for D in the play area at the mall, where I had a nice conversation with an Arabic family about which of their young daughters would best be suited to be my son’s girlfriend, since he acted interested in two of the three of them. I think it was more curiosity than the sort of “like” he has for the girl he digs at school. These girls were brave and brash and wearing sparkly, form-fitting clothes, and I wondered how long that would be allowed to continue before they would be requested to wear the headscarf and very close to burka-like drapery the Mom was wearing. The older girl mistook me briefly for her Mom, coming to me and tugging on my arm, Mom, Mom, Mom. I realized how weird and also natural it felt having some other kid call me Mom. As natural as the bumps you get as kids plow by you in closed play spaces like that, which would have annoyed the shit out of me before I was in the parent club. Now, I take it all in stride and just pull my legs out of the way so I don’t trip someone. “I’m someone’s Mom, but not yours,” I told the girl, and she was embarrassed. How she confused me, in my leggings, motorcycle boots, skull sweatshirt and velvet overcoat with her Mom, I don’t know, but kids are distracted all the time. The Mom, a few feet down from me on the bench, and her husband, were both affable and talked with me after I initiated conversation twice. I think they weren’t used to it, from the initial reception. The older daughter then showed me how she lost her tooth that morning, and asked me excitedly if I wanted to see the tooth. “Of course!” I said, and asked her how it came out, and she told me the whole sordid story. She showed me a picture of the tooth on her mom’s phone, then produced the actual tooth from her Mom’s purse after me giving the Mom some looks indicating it was really fine with me. I congratulated the girl and then caught myself before mentioning the Tooth Fairy – you never know some other family’s practices, so I waited until the kids were back playing to ask the Mom if they did the Tooth Fairy, and she said yes. I really wanted to ask her what they give, because we’re debating that now with D, but the kids were crazy loud and there wasn’t a lot of time for detailed conversation. The Mom then left for a bit and the Dad asked about D’s age and said how small he was – this is going to be recurring now, I guess. My tiny, bony dude. I think he’s such a great looking kid, I only see how small he is compared to the other kids when I go pick him up from daycare. They are hulking beasts, some of them. I remind myself this is better than skewing too far the other side of the scale, and that we’re all lucky he has that awesome metabolism I had for so long. (oh I miss it) I told him I was also small at his age, and so was his Dad, and that it comes in handy. I will work to better prepare D for these comments, so he has some ready-made comebacks.
I finally got some new jeans today. I haven’t had jeans that fit in several months now, they’re all too big. I haven’t lost THAT much weight, but enough that none of the regular pants I have are even close to fitting anymore, which is why I wear leggings almost every day. I bought them in the junior’s department, where I felt a little ridiculous shopping. The sales clerk, who was about my age, asked me if she could help me and I told her I had no idea what size I even wore, I haven’t shopped in the junior’s department for about 20 years and she guided on size and style. She whispered that she shopped there too. The vanity sizing of the clothes making it possible for even middle-aged women to shop in that department now (or the growing size of our youth, generally), where the prices are lower and the styles better. I agreed. “I don’t want teddy bears and leaves and anchors on my clothes, you know?” I told her, and she nodded emphatically. I apologized for D, who was playing in the clothing racks, as kids do, but she said it just reminded her of days in her past that were so far gone now, it made her sad, and said she didn’t mind.
We also went to a vintage store yesterday, where the sales ladies loved D and entertained him with hats and gave him a toy snake to play with so I could shop their crowded racks and try stuff on. “Mom, you look beautiful,” D said, as I came out in the one dress that actually fit me right. Bought that one, yep.
And today, we went looking for a new perfume for me. In addition to throwing out all the big pile of abandoned socks whose mates had left them for good, and finishing shredding approximately 10 years of bank statements and cancelled checks, I also threw out all that perfume I never liked in the first place, that was old, had probably turned, and was not really me. D and I smelled a ton of samples sprayed on little cards and a pushy sales woman tried hard to get me to buy several types that I really didn’t like. In the end, after smelling about 30 different kinds, the one kind D and I picked together was a kind I used to wear a long, long time ago when I was a young, carefree, single gal. But D didn’t know that, he just picked it as among the ones he liked that overlapped with the few I also liked. I bought a little roll-on container of it for not too much money. The advertising scheme of the perfume is centered around romance. I like that. It smells of flowers and summer and hope.