Be yourself don’t hide


Marching ever forward, despite nature’s admirable attempt to try to give us a winter NOW. It’s like Mother Nature realized she fucked up all winter and is all like here, here’s some snow! Hail! Here’s some wind and cold! All of the weather! All at once! Can’t fool me though, I know this is the death knell and in another week or two, things are going to be a lot brighter and warmer. I can be patient. I’ve been patient a long time.

I have rain boots now, like real boots designed for rain. You can’t keep me inside for long. I also have lotion that makes my skin sparkle, which makes me feel like a jewel. I’m shining on the inside even if outside it’s cloudy and rainy.

I sent out a couple of stories for possible publication. I need to generate more content and send more shit out, but there never seem to be enough hours in the day. That’s ok. I’m working on enjoying my life more instead of making it all about an endless to-do list. I think it’s starting to work. Ever in search of that balance. Sometimes turning down more opportunities to do things so you are alone more often results in more balance. Sometimes letting people into your life who continue to knock is the right thing. It’s always shifting and changing. I make the best decisions I can in the moment.

I’m getting a travel bug itch as well. Trying to plan some long weekend trips for me and the boy over the summer. We will probably take the trip to Wisconsin to see my sister, but I’m not sure when. I’d like to take him somewhere we’ve both never been. He really, really wants to see the “real ocean,” but that’s a super long drive to make alone, and an expensive proposition. We shall see how the rest of the year plays out. Like the weather, it’s always changing and continues to surprise me.

I’m reading a piece at Dark Room on Tuesday. I keep editing it in my head and making it longer. I need to actually make the changes to the piece, but I already have all the copies of the scripts for people with current version. Decisions.

I need to do something to generate some extra income. Being this fabulous ain’t cheap. But it sure feels good.



And the springtime take a long way around


The Stones really nailed today for me with this one, what a perfect song for this day.

Last week my son wore shorts one day, it was so warm, and we blew bubbles and drew with sidewalk chalk on the patio. Today, it was really cold. Then it rained. Then there was a thunderstorm. Then a hailstorm. Now, a big snowstorm. I thought this one might miss us, though I know it’s hitting all around us, and though I know this is not unusual for Cleveland in April. I still remember the year my family made the snow bunny for Easter back at the house where I grew up. My sister and Mom made it, as I had gone off to college. They sent me pictures in the mail. That was the year she sold the house and moved to Cleveland, where, believe it or not, the winters are milder. The coldest spot in Ohio is often a spot in my hometown. This isn’t so bad, and it won’t last.

I’ve been going to bed so early for the past week or so. I think my body is just tired. Tired of winter, tired of stress, tired of so much. I have been working out more and that’s also made me more tired. It’s amazing to me now to think how I used to come home from work, go to the gym and work out for an hour or two, get changed and go out clubbing until the wee hours several nights a week, and still go to work and function the next day. Of course, functioning was a lot easier at those lower-level jobs. I remember sleeping in my car at lunch, or in the lunch/break room a couple of times, so burning my bell, book and candle was taking a toll even when I was young, but I bounced back more quickly. Today I sat on the floor for two Monopoly Jr. games with my kid and it took me a half hour until I could walk right again, my back hurt so much from it. Fucking middle age. And I know it only gets worse.

Trying hard to find the balance with the kid is a continued challenge. Fed, yes. Played with, yes. Homework and reading (him to me, and vice versa), check. But not too much. I think he needs to be told no, too, to find his own stuff to do while I clean up the kitchen, so he can see cleaning up is important, or while I change the sheets on the beds (he took his off, one of his small chores – he also vacuumed the bathroom with the hand vac, one of his other chores). And dancing and watching a funny video and some cartoons and ok donuts and even pizza the night before and staying up late because it’s the weekend, but that balance, all the time I’m working it in. No, I have played enough ball, that’s enough dancing, you’ve had enough to eat. I work hard to not make things indulgent, but it is a lot more than what I grew up with, which was probably not enough, so I don’t know if my meter is right or not.

My Mom and I talk on the phone daily. Even though she only lives a few miles away, she doesn’t like going out that much anymore, and isn’t really prepared for visitors much either, spending a lot of the day in her robe and watching TV, but we do talk on the phone. She often asks me what I’ve been doing with D on the weeks that I have him, and tells me what a good Mom I am. Sometimes I’m just filling her in and don’t mean anything by it, but accidentally expose something that she really didn’t do, and she finds herself apologizing for not having done this or that, and I backpedal and find ways to tell her what she did was great, and more than enough, or that what I’m doing is probably too much. I just don’t want her to feel bad. We were talking about how people talk about idyllic childhoods in the 70s, where neighborhood parents would give you a snack or make sure you got home ok or whatever, and how that wasn’t my experience at all. She reminded me there was a brief time I brought one or two playmates home with me from the nearby pool in my pool rat days and we’d have snacks, and after it happened a few times she finally had to tell me to tell them they couldn’t come over anymore because she actually couldn’t afford to feed them. They were eating the little bit of food that was meant for our family and we literally could not afford to buy more. I didn’t remember having to tell my friends about that until she mentioned it, and then I felt bad that she still felt shitty about that all these years later, and that somehow I made her think of it. Gah. Motherhood guilt has no expiration date, I guess. All we can do is hope we’re getting it as right as we can and doing the best we can with what we have.

I told her I was taking my son to see a children’s theater play, and invited her to join us, even though I knew she wouldn’t go. She said she felt bad for never exposing us to anything like that, not that there was a whole lot of culture in the small town where I grew up. But what there was, we couldn’t afford to go see/do, and what was free and available, we didn’t pursue. My family just didn’t do kid-oriented stuff at all, ever. It was all adult stuff, all the time, unless it was your birthday or summer vacation or something. Playing with strange kids at HAM radio fests and flea markets and auctions was about it. I pointed out to her that she did take me to the movies downtown sometimes, and made me sit down more times than I could recall to watch a lot of black and whites that I never would have seen but for her influence. That was what she had to teach. White Heat. My Dear Secretary. Singing in the Rain, which we saw downtown in the big, grand old theater. The big epic dramas – Cleopatra, Ben-Hur, the majesty of the annual religious epics like the Robe and the Ten Commandments, which were actually the foundation for a lot of my basic knowledge about religion since we didn’t go to church. The annual viewings of Wizard of Oz and Willy Wonka, and Snoopy Come Home, which left me in such tears when they said “No Dogs Allowed” that they had to shut it off a couple of times when I was really little, I was crying so hard. I knew who Victor Mature and Tyrone Power and Kim Novak were in middle school. I had a favorite Hitchcock film, knew Robert Mitchum from Night of the Hunter and only knew Andy Griffith from A Face in the Crowd, not from his hokey TV show. That was what she gave me, which sparked my obsessive love with the entertainment industry, and which continues to this day. I try hard to explain that to her so she doesn’t feel bad that what she did wasn’t enough.

I expect my son will be doing the same for me one day. I hope I’m giving him enough material to be convincing.

Got to find a way


Worldwide violence and U.S.-based hatred really make me sad these days. I quit watching television news several years ago as it was mostly one horrible story after another – split up by saccharine packages about dog parks or school choirs which left me with a headache. I’ve never much been the newspaper type. I have pretty much always had to get up and go in the morning and never had time to sit around eating breakfast and reading a paper. On the weekends, when I can have a little more time, I prefer music in the background. But I get plenty of news every day through various forms of social media. Lately all I want to do is turn it off and try to ignore it, even though you can’t really do that.

Yesterday was the last day of my son’s spring break from school. I brought him to work with me, where he did a decent job of holding it together, behavior-wise, with a steady stream of snacks, books and screen time. Then he had to come to a doctor’s appointment with me that took me three months to get, so I didn’t want to reschedule it. Continuing to search for a cause for my wheeze. It’s been deemed not lung-related, so I went to the ENT who did my sinus surgery a couple of years ago. He sprayed some numbing stuff in my throat and then my son’s eyes got really big when the guy slowly put a very long tube down my nostril so he could look at my vocal cords and top of my esophagus. The good news is there’s no visible damage or anything that looks askew. He suspects I may have VCD or vocal cord dysfunction, which is often misdiagnosed as asthma, and which can be frequent  in athletes/runners. But hey, not cancer is a good diagnosis. So after the appointment, I took D to one of his favorite places in Cleveland for lunch. It’s not my favorite place, but he’s a born Clevelander and it’s a Cleveland thing so I take him there from time to time because he loves it. Then we drove to an indoor play place on the east side, where there’s a big arcade, laser tag, a climbing/play area, bowling and roller skating. Of course, because I suck, I forgot to bring a lot of cash with me. I paid for an all-day pass for him but we couldn’t do a lot of the stuff like games as they required tokens and the token machine didn’t take debit cards. Oh well. After he played awhile in the ball pit, he decided we should go roller skating. We went roller skating about 6 months ago and it was mostly a disaster. He fell about a thousand times and while I didn’t fall, it took like an hour for me to be able to get around without looking like an animal trying to escape a trap. It’s just been like 40 years since I skated and my muscles really didn’t remember how to do it, plus this body doesn’t behave like my body did when I was little.

Some kid a year or two older glommed onto my son and was insistent he was going to teach him how to use the plastic, wheeled assistant thing the right way so he could learn to actually skate. I left them alone and worked on staying upright and trying not to look like a huge embarrassment. Honestly, 90% of the people on the rink were kids. Most of the parents stayed outside and sat on benches on their phones. Which is fine, not everyone is into trying not to look like a fool and avoiding things that might break your wrist is a great idea, but I just wished more people would try so I wouldn’t look so dumb on my own.

As with everything that I do with my son, I looked around for people who might look like they were carrying a gun, since that’s legal here. The last thing you want is some guy with a gun who falls down on the rink and shoots someone. I also sized up where the exits are at every place we went in the facility. I’ve got a slightly higher sense of situational awareness than most people and I hope it never comes in handy. So that’s different than when I was a kid. But we also took a chance and left our shoes and sweatshirts (and my phone, tucked deep into my shoe as I didn’t want to fall and break it) in an unlocked locker and nobody bothered our stuff the whole time we were skating, which was a couple of hours. So in this way, there is still some innocence and safety out there. It’s a weird world.

We were both sweating when we finally took a break. I used my last two dollars to buy us an apple juice to split, and got him to agree we should go home as we were getting tired. A year ago, he would have thrown a huge tantrum and I would have had to drag him out of there. But now, though he was upset, he was able to listen to my reasoning, that it’s not that far, that we would come back again, and that it would soon be dinnertime and I didn’t have any money to buy any food at the facility, and he reluctantly agreed to go without further argument. So that’s progress.

We had dinner and I gave him a bath, and then took a shower while he had Second Dinner. Man I wish I had that kid’s metabolism. We were both pooped by the end of the evening and hit our respective beds pretty hard.

He forgot to bring his Spider Man shirt for his Spider Man book report/presentation today, which he was supposed to bring from his Dad’s. He’s had a month and a half to prepare for this report, and I’ve reminded him several times to bring the shirt here, but he didn’t do it. He was mad when I wouldn’t call his Dad at 8pm last night for him to run it over, but he needs to learn we are not always going to rescue him. I didn’t call, because I know his Dad would have brought it over and I wanted D to see that he could do the presentation without it, and to learn that if you forget the shirt, you do without the shirt. He was pretty mad this morning and asked again if I would call Dad to see if he would drop off the shirt on his way to work (at 615 am!) and I said absolutely not. But he’ll get over it. Hopefully one day what he’ll remember is I took him skating and to Sokolowski’s, and to a playground and for ice cream the day before, and not that I was a bitch about making him quit eating 10 minutes before bed or about not arranging to have his Spidey shirt brought to him, but who knows how it will end up.

I try to focus on these challenges and battles since the ones going on in the world are too sad to think about.


Close your eyes, open your heart


Gosh but it was lovely today. Yesterday, I woke up very early, bundled up and went outside to watch the sunrise from atop a nearby hill. It was freezing cold, but I bundle fairly smartly and I was able to comfortably sit on the ground and watch the beauty emerge in purples and blues and pinks from over the buildings that are part of my apartment complex. I went out later in the day, when it was slightly warmer, for a four-mile walk but it was still really cold, and without the brisk walking, I’d have been uncomfortable.

Today it was a kiss of summer. It was in the low 50s when I picked my son up from his father’s place, and raising a degree practically every few minutes.

Grandma was at our place when we got back, and she came in and we had a long, leisurely late morning of me cooking a ham, making au gratin potatoes and broccoli, and we managed to fit egg coloring in then as well, even though it made a terrible mess. My son bopped in and out and helped a little with the cooking, and a lot with the egg coloring. After lunch, we had the traditional Macedonian egg cracking contest, which somehow my son seems to win every year, so he’ll have good luck the rest of the year. That’s ok, I got the big side of the wishbone from the Thanksgiving turkey, and that’s working out it’s own way to bring me some good luck in 2016.

Then we played a couple of board games. D is getting slightly better about losing, though you have to play enough games for him to win at least one.

By the time the kitchen was all cleaned up and grandma had gone home, it was in the high 70s. D and I set out for a playground I’d heard was great which is pretty far from where I live. We had an ok time, and saw this ladybug, which was cool, but it was a long way to go just to visit a playground. I asked a Dad who had sat down next to me to strike up a “parenting” conversation if there was a place to get ice cream nearby, so after a while we left the playground and went and got ice cream. Or rather, D got ice cream, as I am still carrying all my winter weight, and I got a fat-free fruit smoothie. He ate all his ice cream and drank a good portion of my smoothie. Must be nice to have that metabolism. Yeah, it was, actually, I remember it and still miss it.

He fell asleep almost as soon as we pulled out of the parking lot and it was pretty late for him to nap, but I’m just trying to roll with life. You can’t make a kid stay awake in the back seat when you’re driving unless you have a cattle prod or something. So I decided when we got home that we’d spend the last couple of hours of the day cleaning up the patio and getting it ready for spring and summer. So we swept and beat rugs and cleaned off patio chairs, moved the bikes all around so there’s room to sit on the chairs, and brought the plants out…so I’m sure we’ll get a frost soon and they’ll die. I need more plants. And all my cheap patio lights from last year are pretty much broken and scattered all over, so I need new lights. I’d really like to have more plants indoors as well. If only they weren’t so expensive and were easier to transport. It’s hard to get more than one or two plants into a sedan.

Then we blew bubbles and colored the empty spaces with sidewalk chalk. He drew zombies and I drew flowers and peace signs, and we blasted some rock and roll. I got to tuck him in and kiss him good night. It was a good day.

The patio is now ready. And so am I.


The passing of days


Seventy degrees yesterday. 39 this morning. That’s pretty much how the roller coaster of my life has been going lately – up one day, down the next, and hang on because the ride is really bumpy. Thank God I’m wearing my seat belt.

I’ve finally had a surprisingly good week at work. It’s amazing how much this can affect the rest of your life. But it’s helped me feel like I have a handle on so many other things, and that I’m handling, dealing, “adulting,” etc. I finally got my own checks with just my name on them. I’m cheap and had been determined to use up my old checks even though they still had the ex’s name on them, but I have to write more checks than I’d like, mostly for school-related expenses, and every check I wrote bothered me, as it does not represent me. It felt more and more wrong even though it really doesn’t matter to anyone but me. So I bought new ones. They arrived yesterday. They are multicolored and have peace signs on them, and my name alone, which my checks have not had for 14 years.

I’ve made a lot of changes and done a lot of cleaning recently in my personal life and at home, and those changes continue to cause me to shift and evolve and re-examine my life, my progress, my goals. Sometimes it’s just the things right in front of me – the list of tasks, cleaning, the to-do list. Lately it’s larger and bigger – ways to help my son with bigger goals (finally found a youth running series for kids his age, and signed him up), calendared two races for myself.

I’ve been writing a little more as well, and that feels good. I’ve neglected the blog for other writing projects, but I need to do both regularly for my sanity and well being.

I wanted to see more movies this year, at home and out in theaters, and so far I’m doing pretty well with that. I wanted to go out more, be with friends more, and I’m doing well with that, too. I accepted a spur of the moment invitation to brunch last weekend that was positive and joyful and I really needed it.

My calendar and social life are changing so quickly I don’t know if my head and heart can keep up with the changes. I am trying to relax and learn to live with the changes, as the destination will be worth it.

I have a huge feeling of being just on the edge of so much more change. I think some of that is spring – we’re so close, and each warm day is a tease for more consistent warmer days to follow. But the warm, teasing kiss and then smack in the ass of the cold the next day, man, it’s tiring. I can’t seem to get to bed early enough these days.

I’m starting to think about trips. I want to travel more this year, and am figuring out how to make that happen. My son really wants me to take him to see an ocean.

I have a party/singing gig to prepare for, and that prep starts now even though the party isn’t until next month. A heavy-hitting annual gathering of some close friends from college, which always seems to end up with me (and others) singing, and I want to be prepared this time. There is also dancing, and sometimes live music. I have much to say with those songs to my old friends; we communicate with each other as much with music as we do with the long evening’s conversations over drinks and cold pizza.

I need and want to sell a writing piece. This will justify me buying new running shoes, which I need. I just bought some, wore them for two long runs outdoors and realize they are perfect for me, but a half size too small. This is a bad conundrum. Some writing money will help me not feel bad about solving it with a new, bigger pair. Perhaps less movies and more writing (and pitching).

Living fully these days. It’s important. Garry Shandling unexpectedly died of a heart attack yesterday. It could be anyone’s day anytime, and I just don’t want to live with regret for chances not taken, journeys not explored fully. Sometimes you have to get out of your own way and let life happen the way it seems to want to happen.

Brand new from Bonnie Raitt. She just gets better—speaks to me more—with every album.

See the sky in front of you

rainbow skyline march 2016

This is the beginning of a very important time of year for me. Spring has officially arrived, and the signs are everywhere. As you’ll see in the picture for today’s post, this is the view I have from my patio at my apartment. My apartment is not fabulous. But the one thing it has is this amazing woods.

In the winter, I can see all the way down to the bottom of the ravine. Everything is clear and I can see the snow and the deer walking around. I can see way out to the highway, and can tell if the traffic is too jammed in the morning to go that way, and instead take the surface streets. And then when winter is just about over and the earth has turned to face the sun the right way, I get to see this, this vision, this sunset every night that our crazy lake allows us to see one instead of clouds. I stand in awe at my window and watch the sun go down through the bare trees, knowing how limited and special this time is.

Because in a few weeks, you see, I won’t see anything. I actually get less sun here in the spring and summer than I do in the winter. The trees explode and then there is a curtain of green and smells and wonder. The deer and geese and squirrels and birds who seem to have been so, so busy the last few weeks will find their own work to do in nesting and mating and the things they do, and the woods will grow rich and full and lush.

I come into my own at this time as well. I inhale the green, I go elsewhere for the sun, but I want to be OUTSIDE as much as I can. The time for hunkering down and making soups and stews and chili and mac and cheese is damned near over. It’s time for maxi dresses and wedge heels and hitting the gym, which I have been doing like CRAZY the last few weeks and hope to see some results soon. But even if I don’t see them, I feel them. I love how my muscles shake when I get back to my desk after a lunchtime workout. I love the exhaustion and exhilaration I feel after a run, and am already searching for races to sign up for. This year, looking for 1-mile/1-K races to run with my son, my own racing “goals” blending with his this year. I don’t need to achieve anything. If the opportunity comes and I can make it happen, so much the better. But I will run for pleasure, and not around a calendar. And work to make this body strong-strong-strong so I can run better.

I won’t live as a monk. I’m not living on protein and bean sprouts just because it’s spring and soon I’ll wear a bathing suit. I love life and all its richness, and the people I am seeing when I am out – new friends and old – are filling up the blank spaces on my checkerboard and making me feel like I’m really doing it. Really living. As fully as I can. It isn’t about the scale or pizza or wine or protein shakes. It’s about that it’s time to ramp up enjoyment of life, sucking out the marrow of life and seeing people who matter, since you never know when you’ll have time again.

I’m taking off next Monday since my kid’s school is closed. We’ll go have some kind of adventure. I’m thinking of going to Arizona when my vacation renews in August – there are two people who need me out there, you know who you are, dear readers, and I’ll figure out a way to get there with their help. I haven’t climbed Camelback Mountain in more than a decade. Perhaps time to get back on that.

I’m writing too, and watching movies, and cooking. I’m living. I called my son tonight and he knew how to change the call to FaceTime and I was embarrassed because I look like shit, my hair pulled back and in need of a shower and then I thought, he doesn’t care, because you’re mommy, and that’s all he’ll remember.

It’s going to be a busy week. Make the most of it, friends.

Memories of things you’ve never known

spring tree

As we bounce between end-of-winter temps and beginning-of-spring temps, I am feeling the undeniable effects of there being more light and more ability to be outside without it being uncomfortable. I want to do more, and I’m doing it. Going out more, watching more movies, making more plans, but also starting to tackle things I’ve put off for far too long at home. I got my taxes done, finally, and managed to eke out enough of a refund that I’ll be able to pay off my outstanding tax penalties for city tax withholding mistakes made in 2014 and 2015 at my job that continue to plague me, in one fell swoop. This week, I will get my new checks that have only my name on them, which I have not had since 2002, and I will write my first check to that agency, so that they can stop picking and picking from what little is left over each month after I pay all my other bills. They’ll be done and I’ll be done and yeah, my new checks have peace signs on them.

I continue to find and go deeper into my community. Discussions with chefs, female friends, male friends, theater people and others make me realize how good I have it to be  surrounded by so many smart, interesting, creative people who somehow seem not to know how reviled I was growing up. Who knew that the girl whose clothes got made fun of, who was voted worst dressed and most likely to become a serial killer (among other things) in high school would have this rich, amazing cache of community who all seem to think she’s pretty fucking great.

It is a new day as I come more and more into my own as the person I am continuing to become. This single mother who is working hard to keep up with all the school work and art projects and math and spelling drills, reading to the kid every night, teaching him how to gamble, I mean, play Yahtzee, teaching him Battleship and strategy, teaching him how his nose can tell him what’s going on in life – when food is done, when something is wrong with a car, when spring is really here. The deer and geese have been parading by my apartment the last couple days in a much more entertaining march than the St. Paddy’s Day revelers a few days ago. The animals know it is spring and are very busy, and so is this animal.

New pictures are hung. Old pictures are removed from their frames and put into storage with old memories that are not for discarding, as they are important and part of who I am, but they have their place, in a box on a high shelf somewhere out of my immediate space, so that I can retake that space completely and decide how to fill that space as it creates more and more pockets. Who knew there could be so much room in a 900 square foot apartment? I’m making more room all the time. So much clutter has to go. I took an hour and organized my “office” area, which is really just a couple of shelves in my makeshift computer desk, and man, it cleared my mind and made everything so much easier. There are things everywhere that should have been thrown out long ago, and now I’m getting rid of them.

The boy and I had a very busy day. This morning we met another generous friend who had a bag of clothes for my son. I swear, half his life, he’s been outfitted by good samaritans from my tribe who know I need, who think of me and my bony kid, and put things aside for us. He was thrilled to finally get an Angry Birds shirt, and a Skylander shirt, whatever the fuck those things are. He wore the Skylander shirt to karate “graduation” today, which was really just the tail end of a 5-session program at his school after care, giving the karate center owner a chance to sell everyone some more classes. My kid wasn’t into it at all. He wanted to take the classes because all the other boys in extended care were taking them, but he thought it was stupid and couldn’t do any of the movements the right way. We were almost late to the graduation as I thought it was at the karate center, and he argued with me that it was at the rec center. We went to the karate center and it was deserted 15 minutes before the program was to start. So off to the rec center but they didn’t know anything about it, called the karate center and they said yeah it’s here, so we raced back and got there just in time.  When the guy was telling the kids at the end how they should raise their hands if they wanted their mom and dad to know they wanted to take more classes, D turned around to me  and wrote out “N-O” with his finger in the air. HAHAHAHAHA.

Then we went downtown and managed to snag a free parking meter so we could go to Tower City to get the really, really good caramel corn since the stuff I made a home a couple of weeks ago was sub-par. The doors to the English Oak Room were open, which is a space I’ve always been curious about, and I had D sneak in with me. Some musicians were setting up and there was a box of flowers awaiting a person to set them on the tables and the event planner in me sized up the number of seats, type of event. D said, “This looks like a wedding” and I was pretty pleased he figured that out, given he’s only been to one I think, maybe two. He wanted to know whose weddings he had been to.The past is getting blurry. I couldn’t remember my ex’s cousin’s wife’s name, whose wedding we went to several years ago, and had to refer to her as “Maximiliana’s Mom” to D so he’d know who I was talking about and tell me her name. It’s funny how when you no longer have those connections, your mind almost instantly lets them go, like lines you learned once and knew so well you could say them every day for two months, but if someone asked you now you’d be hard pressed to elicit a single phrase.

Then we stopped and picked up a pizza from our favorite pizza place, and came back and had kind of a chill night, eating pizza, doing laundry, me doing my cleaning and organizing stuff while he watched TV. I got him to do a few chores, but he finally lost it when he couldn’t get the comforter back on his bed the right way, and came out crying about it. I reminded him about earlier, when I had been so frustrated with the third time we had to get out of the car about something, and the STUPID FUCKING SEAT BELT that only works right if you really, really baby it and when you’re in a hurry, it’s really hard to. I got so fed up at one point today I was gritting my teeth and yanking on the thing and swearing and D started laughing and laughing at me and I said well, now you know where you get it from, and he said yeah. I reminded him about the seat belt incident when he was upset about the blanket and then he laughed and it was all ok.

And tomorrow morning he leaves me for a week, and I pretend not to be a mom to myself so I won’t miss him too much. Good thing it’s a very busy week next week, and getting busier all the time.