He’s Off.

I’ll miss this.

He’s off for his three month gig.

I picked J up from his house up north and we drove  back down to my house yesterday morning. I made a psuedo Thanksgiving dinner and the four of us played games and hung out until it was time for the girls to go to bed.

We got in bed around 9, because for the most part, we didn’t really want to talk about missing each other or how it might be hard. But just being in bed together for a long night, felt like the only thing left to do. I was well aware of him, as I woke up every hour, next to me and I wanted to stay aware of it because it will be a little while before it happens again.

The fact that he is going south for this big gig definitely has a goodt feel to it, aside from the part about missing him. This is a part of who he is, so it ends up being a part of who we are.  That he’s a musician who will mostly be with us, but sometimes go away.

I am certainly grateful for technology, for ichat and email and skype, for us to communicate. 

I am grateful he has made it known that he expects me in December and he expects me for a week in February. And I am touched that he has made it clear that when he comes back in three months, his intention is to be around as much as he has been.

After getting him to the airport shuttle early this morning, I brought the girls to school. I’ve been doing okay, feeling a little sad, but knowing I have alot of work ahead of me the next few weeks for my business, along with the holidays. I know I can keep it in perspective and know I will feel sad sometimes and lonely on occasion. But I am heartened by the fact that we have a really really good thing going.

So, I take the girls to school and a friend of mine was standing there. And Red went right up to her and said “We just took the J to the airport shuttle and won’t see him again until March!”

So, I was doing okay until my friend started to cry for me. She got all teary and I got all teary and choked up. She goes, “Three months?” And I just nodded.

I walked in my house, wondering how I would spend the morning, with the girls in school, with J leaving town. 

And my phone rang and it was J, sitting at Starbucks at Logan, reading the paper, having checked his luggage, his keyboard and bag, and had opened the cards the girls and I had each made him.

“I feel very loved by you,” he said.

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November 25th, guest post: Brass Monkey

I’ve got it easy today. I am guest posting over at This Journey while she’s on vacation….ah vacation…

It’s a simple tale about my first trip with J to NYC and the quest for live music.

Go visit me there!

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Seven Days of sick

Being sick all week, spending time in the doctor’s office Thursday and starting some antibiotics, sleeping terrible, feeling like crap…well…so Friday, I realized when I woke up…I had a gynecologist exam. It was a scheduled exam and darnit, I was going to keep it, because why not? Why not add a half hour drive South for a fifteen minute appointment with legs spread eagled to be scraped and prodded by someone in a place on my body that is reserved just for J?

I mean, really.

Well, because Target’s on the way, of course.

I came out of there with cozy pants and sweatshirts for the kids (cozy=pants that are not jeans or without a similar waistband to jeans). After school, we were walking home and I said to the girls, “I have a surprise for you at home.” And they started to guess. “Is it candy?” No it’s nothing to eat. “Is it a toy? New Polly Pockets?” No, not a toy.

Red looks up at me as we get to the front door and smiles wide. “I KNOW! THE SURPRISE IS THAT YOU’RE HAVING A BABY!?!?!?!?”

She was just as happy to see new cozy clothes.

I also came out of Target with a humidifier for my bedroom. The girls have a great one for their room and mine is a Holmes as well, and it was only $40. This one, you actually see the moisture coming out of it into the air. No wonder I’ve been so sick. No wonder I’ve felt like my throat was being scraped by sandpaper and coughing left me dry and hurting.

The doctor suggested that I take some Benadryl when I go to bed at night. Now, coming from a Christian Science upbringing, where I had no idea how GREAT over the counter meds could be, I am still not a big fan of medication. I learned to suffer as a child (um, insert resentment here) and because it is engrained in me, I tend to suffer until I wake up and realize “I can actually do something about this.” That’s why it usually takes me an extra day or two to get to the doctor when I am sick. 

Anyway, I got me some Benadryl at Target. Along with zinc tablets and kleenex and chapstick (high maintenance cold). I’ve never taken it before, honestly. It cleared my head, suppressed my cough so I could sleep, and wow, did I sleep like a baby…after many nights of not sleeping due to phlegm, headache, coughing and congestion.

Dear Benadryl. I love you.

The girls were amazing through it all. They barely fought. They let me rest. I got snuggles and kleenex and pictures of me sick in bed. They didn’t make me try and sing them their songs at bedtime. They sang to me instead. We did tons of arts and crafts and watched movies and stayed cozy in the new cozy clothes. 

Blue’s favorite things, despite all the cool markers and pens and paints we own, are crayons. My favorite exchange with her this morning that got me in a fit of laughter and coughing, was when she held up a crayon and pointed to the wrapper and asked “What does this say right here, Mommy?”

“It says MADE IN CHINA” I said.

She smiled and said, “I’m glad you got these for us, they are special ones. Because they are made in China.”

It’s Sunday and I have officially been sick for seven days. Today is the first day that I can say I feel more on the upside. It’s taken it’s toll on me. I’ve eaten tons of food because it makes me feel better and I feel disgusting and bloated and sicky-nasty. I am happy to say my head is clear and despite being tired and achy, I just have an annoying cough that I hope is gone before I see J on Tuesday.

We have Tuesday together and Tuesday night. He flies out of town on Wednesday morning.

Sigh.

Oh, and I should add a postscript. Another benefit to the gyn exam is that I mentioned to the lady that I was on antibiotics. And man, is she a good doctor or what? She immediately wrote me a prescription for something I can’t pronounce that will assist me in the event I get a predicted nasty yeast infection that can be brought on by ten days of antibiotics!

Good thing I went to that appointment.

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Tivo, Phlegm, organizing and floating teeth

My teeth are floating from all the fluids I’ve been drinking and eating. My face hurts. My lungs hurt. My teeth hurt. Everything hurts and feels phlegm-y and icky.

This is me, sick.

Day 4.

I wouldn’t let J talk to me on ichat, because I look so scary. Last night, I let him, but kept the light low.

After three days basically in bed watching television and eating everything in sight (starve a fever, feed a cold) I have way way way overfed my cold. 5 pounds at least.

I had some cough medicine from last spring that hadn’t expired yet and it has helped me not cough my brains out for a few nights, and sleep well, but last night I woke up at 3am with completely soaked clothes and sheets and choking/coughing. It was kind of scary, unable to get my breath or get a handle on the coughing. I ran down and started the shower and it gave me some relief, as did the inhaler I always have for “the tail end of colds” that seem to bring on asthmatic symptoms.

Oh my GAWD I haven’t felt so horrible since I had Pneumonia a few years ago.  I am also tired of sitting around at home all week.

So, this morning, before my doctor’s appointment, I started cleaning out my kitchen cupboards. Seriously. I am hacking away and snuffling and aching, and I pull out all the pots and pans and clean the cupboards and organized them all back in again. 

I needed SOMETHING to feel good.

Here are some photos of the process.

I’m f’n good, eh? For being sick?

 

okay, the one above is sideways, but I am sick and can’t think of how to rotate the damn image.

 

Turns out, I have a sinus infection. I got me some meds, a new inhaler, and a movie. I spent the rest of the day, before picking the girls up from school, in bed with soup (I am sick of soup), toast, orange juice, a dose of meds and “Forgetting Sarah Marshall”. 

I was grateful for my Netflix arriving, because darnit, I was tired of watching the Tivo of all things.

I watched the whole season, up until this week of “The Mentalist”. Four episodes of “Life”. Five episodes of “Without a Trace”. And two “Project Runways”. I even watched some of “Housewives of Atlanta”. Personally, I find it too dramatic, but when you are sitting around on your ass all day with no other drama going on in your life, a little “Housewives” can actually be interesting. Or at least get ya laughing.

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Ten things I’m supposed to like, but don’t

I love this. I got it from Noted and Blogged.

1. A hired house cleaner. I prefer cleaning my own house.
2. Birds. The totally creep me out. All birds. Even pet birds. And mostly birds like Pigeons and Seagulls, if they get too close.
3. I don’t like the sound of the Beatles. I like their songs, but only if they aren’t singing them.
4. Having my kids sleep in my bed with me. I-just-can’t-sleep through that. SO not restful.
5. Eating crab. What a pain in the ass. I always need another meal after eating crab.
6. Going to parties. Crowds give me anxiety. Unless I am giving the party.
7. Ice in my water. It totally gets in the way. I like the drink cold. But no ice.
8. Thanksgiving Food. I don’t get terribly excited about it.
9. Sleeping in. I feel like I missed a part of the day. Unless of course, I’ve been up til 2.
10. Being asked out on a date (by someone other than J of course). Talk about being put on the spot. All that lingering innuendo of “I like you enough to ask you on a date, this is awkward, will you say yes?” sort of thing. Ugh.

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A bit of aftermath recap

I had an art reception on Thursday night and J came down from the north to hang out and help me out with the girls. Since the only babysitter I have ever hired to watch my kids, ended up being a DRUG DEALER (seriously, this was a few years ago, and a woman at swimming lessons used to work with the babysitter I used once and panicked when I told her how great she was and she goes, “DON’T EVER HIRE HER AGAIN!”

Anyway, having J across the street giving the girls pizza and then bringing them over to hang out and have reception food and all that, the time was over quickly for all of us and I walked home with some great cash in my pocket.

Friday was Blue’s 6th birthday. Amidst a week of Spooky Man, police, art reception, doctor appointments, taking down a show that is an hour away, AND Blue’s birthday, I had my work cut out for me. It didn’t help that we had no school on Tuesday. Because Tuesday was our day off in pajamas, and then we took a drive to the (gasp) mall for lunch at Rainforest Cafe, per Blue’s request (in place of an actual birthday party with her class, which I refuse to do every year).

Little did I know, Veteran’s Day IS NOT THE DAY TO GO TO THE MALL.

It was packed with people. We parked a mile away. At 1:30 pm, there was a two hour wait for a table at Rainforest Cafe.

I was smart though, we ran a few errands and went back 45 minutes later and lo and behold, we got a table. (not understanding Rainforest Cafe logic THERE).

The food bites.

Thursday I baked Blue’s cookies for school and then a cake for Friday after school, her actual birthday. J was joining us for the final hour of cake and opening presents and then I threw them in the car to take them to their dad’s for the weekend.

Oh, did I mention that in the midst of this, it not only rained but I also had my windshield replaced?

After dropping the girls off at their dad’s, I followed J North to his place for the weekend.

There, we sat in bed and watched movies, worked on our laptops, ate comfort food, drank wine.

This was my last weekend with him before he goes away to play, down south. As in, over a bit of ocean “south”.

I’ll see him in the next week, he’ll come see the girls and me before he flies out of Boston. His first night playing down there is Thanksgiving. I will see him exactly one month later. And then say goodbye again for another six weeks.

“A little blip in time,” he says.

Over the weekend, his sister asked him how he felt about this big long gig. And he grabbed my hand tighter and looked over at me and said, “I have mixed feelings.”

So, to say I’ll miss him, is an understatement. To say I feel reassured by the strength of our relationship, these few months later, is solid. To say that we share the same sentiments about each other, is accurate.

To say I completely support his going, because this gig is BIG. Financially, it is big. Professionally, it is big. To challenge him, it is big. If I didn’t care about him the way I do, if I weren’t reassured by his coming back, I would sit here and fuss and be mad and feel abandoned. 

But I don’t.

I would SO not be a good partner if I put that on him. Plus, I don’t feel it, which is a benefit to both of us.

I gave him a going away gift. Close your ears if you aren’t willing to hear dirty dialog, because this is what happened:

Me: I have a going away present for you.

J: Are you going to lick me all over?

M: Yes, but not just that.

J: Are you going to do that…you know…..

M: Yes, but not just that.

He loved the pocket watch I bought for him. I searched for the right one for a long long time. His cell phone won’t work (he uses it for his clock) down there, nor does he wear a watch on his wrist.

M: I got you this for you to take with you.

After opening it and looking at it and thanking me softly, he practiced opening and closing it the way the watch seller showed me to do it, so as to not break down the clasp.

And then he murmured, “I always wanted a pocket watch. I love that you gave me this.”

The inscription, I am going to keep private.

(I am writing this while I am gasping for breath, I returned home with a horrible horrible cold. LAST weekend, I was sick, but it was mild and over in a day or so. Now, I am coughing, sneezing, stuffy, horribly miserably, gack. SO not sexy)

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ichat cat

I was on ichat the other night with J and he “took me into the bathroom” with him.

I took some snapshots.

His cat likes hanging out in the bathroom and drinking from the sink.

And likes to watch when the toilet is being put to use. (that’s J’s belt, not his thang)

His cat like to watch the toilet flush.

I’m in love with a cat man.

Oh my goodness.

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Not exactly what I needed right now

So, a recent post of mine touches on my “instinct” about people. I like to think it’s pretty good in my experience with mean, strange, odd, scary, perverted and abusive people.

Last year, nearly every day while walking to school, a dad (I will call him Spooky Man) at the school would drive by after dropping his kid off. No matter what, I couldn’t shake the schedule…and why would I want to?

Well, because nearly every day that we saw him, he would slow down, roll his window down, and look me up and down.

Sometimes he’d whistle slow and low. 

Gross.

I didn’t know who he was but figured it out pretty quickly and just made a greater attempt to a) avoid him at school and b) not look when I saw him drive by.

Now, this went on all year. And over the summer, I met a girl who was renting an apartment off of his house. Come to find out he continued to knock on her door to socialize, at all times of the day and night, talk to her breasts, make comments like “don’t come back from your boyfriend’s house with little babies inside you!” sort of comments.

So initially, those two things kind of disgust me about him.

Valid, right?

So come Fall, it turns out his bully brut son is in Blue’s kindergarten class. 

And at drop off and pick up we all stand by the kindergarten door to watch them go in and wave goodbye and then check them out at the same door at the end of the day. Which means, there is just a handful of us there, hanging out on either end of the school day.

So, I avoid him.

Like the plague.

J works in a place that is near the guy’s house. And when I first met J, he said to me “stay away from that guy, he is bad news.”

And I was like “um, I already knew that!”

Apparently, J had seen and heard things. 

So, I have never spoken to the guy. Ever. Until a few weeks ago when he butted in on a conversation with another dad, the dad actually knew J from the piano bar, so we were talking about all that good stuff. I answered Spooky Man’s question/interruption and then turned back to my conversation with Bob, the friend.

After that, Spooky Man would place himself at my elbow at pick up and drop off at the school. He’d walk way too close to me, so close that I could hear his breathing (and that’s close, considering I am hard of hearing!)

And then he touched me. Would kind of lean in. Ach.

TOTALLY creeped me out.

Come to find out that he’s been harassing moms at the school. Said things about their pants, their cleavage, sexual innuendos, stares, murmurs, whistles. Calling them and leaving creepy voicemails. And no one fuckin’ did anything about it except maybe a few complaints to the principal, who’s response was “this is not a school issue, if you feel you are being violated or threatened or harassed, call 911.”

So, fast forward to last Friday.

J is down here visiting and walks the girls to school with me.

When the kids were about to go in their classes, they were lined up, J says to Spooky Man, “Hey, Spooky Man, can I have a word with you please?” (Spooky Man knows who J is)

So they step aside and (I am mortified because I didn’t know he would ever say something to Spooky Man) they speak softly. And then Spooky Man starts getting all agitated and aggressive and says “Let’s go into the Principal’s office, why don’t we?” And J was like “SURE!”

Apparently, J said to Spooky Man, “Hey, I am going to ask you to leave Movin’ alone. Don’t talk to her and stay out of her space.”

Spooky Man got mad and said “You have no right to tell me that!”

And J said (calmly and quiet), “Listen, I know about your bullshit and we don’t want there to be a problem.”

Spooky Man and J went to talk to the principal. Who told them to take it outside the school. 

They left the principal’s office, J walking straight ahead, not talking to Spooky Man. Spooky Man, at his elbow, yelling at him and complaining, all agitated.

And apparently, the principal added this one to his list of things against Spooky Man and called the cops.

At the end of the day, we went to pick up the girls and Spooky Man was stalking around, getting real close to J (who just stood there and ignored him) and started yelling at us and speaking in a threatening tone.

We went home.

Monday, the cops were there, on the lookout. Apparently, Spooky Man started a rumor that J threatened him and he was going to sue him. And there was this big drama going around that my boyfriend threatened Spooky Man.

Wednesday, the cops were back and one of them came up to me to speak with me and get the story. Although whoever was spreading the rumors, the cops knew the guy was a problem and apparently had many complaints about him, there in the police station.

We had a chat and one of the first things the cop said to me, in a low whisper was, “We know Spooky Man is a nitwit. He’s a total moron.”

What’s funny is that all these people at school with very little information about the whole thing, created this whole drama about threats and creating problems and so forth…well, they all watched the police talk to me and then the cop says, “Here’s let us give you a ride home” (down the street) and I was like “Oh, no…I can walk….” and he opens the door and shoved all their winter gear aside and I get in.

The door closes and both cops start cracking up and they turn around and say, “ooo, imagine what they will all talk about, you getting carted away in a cop car!”

Basically, they were contacting me to be sure there would be no more problems on our end. My response? “There will be no problems on our end unless he talks to me, comes near me or makes me feel unsafe again.”

The cop pulled out his card and said “You call me anytime you are worried about him and I will take care of it.”

I spoke with the cop again today who reassured me that Spooky Man would not come near me or talk to me or J or my kids. He also assured me he put the complaint and issue in a file with the guy’s name and problem.

And then he said, “just another to add to the file.”

The best thing about this, that makes me feel good, is that Spooky Man and a handful of folks who got caught up in the gossip were and are running around with their heads cut off.

I haven’t talked to anyone except the police and the principal. And I’m not going to.

And the situation is taken care of.

And now people are sitting around wondering “oooo, Spooky Man must have really done something to have Movin’s boyfriend speak to him to leave her alone!”

I love keeping everyone guessing. I love that I take no part in the gossip. I handled it wisely with the police. I am reassured by the police that he won’t be getting near me again. And I also feel the guy may have learned his lesson. Let’s hope.

I wonder if he knows the police are watching him.

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My Favorite Things #3

I am overdue with one of these. I have lots of favorite things. Most of these things are old. Not all of them.

1) Birdcage. Oh, but not any old birdcage! This was a wedding gift my mom got when she got married in the 60s. You wind it up and the bird sings a song. My mother hated it and gave it to my grandmother. All four of us grandchildren came along and would play with it when we were kids at my grandparent’s house. My grandmother left it to ME in her will. I’m not sure, maybe I was her favorite. My cousin keeps saying that. I don’t think so…she got the neat writing desk…

 

 

2) Mancala. My dad’s girlfriend gave this to us when we were visiting Los Angeles last year. It keeps my kids busy. It curbs tantrums. It’s good on one one time with my children. I usually lose. Which is good for my kids.

3) Starfish pillow made from vintage bedspreads. I wish I could say I made it. I COULD make it, but I didn’t make it. I spent a fortune on it at a local textile place because I love it so much. She’ll be at a local art show that I am taking part in, in December and can’t wait to see what else she is making this year.

4) I love my Bose docking station for my ipod. I love it. Love it love it love it. Almost as much as my Mac.

5) The Invention of Hugo Cabret. If you haven’t got it, get it. I bought it for Red at the book fair last year and stole it before she could read it and read it myself. So hard to explain but it is mostly illustrations, line drawings, with an amazing story. A billion pages long.

6) My grandmother’s mythology fine silver. I use it every day. My kids like to polish it. I got it because I was likely her favorite…or so my cousin says…heh heh

7) This was my grandfather’s when he was a boy. So it’s old. He was born in 1922 but passed away in 1996. This bowl is hollow and you unscrew the little valve and pour boiling water in it to keep the food in the tray hot. I use it in my office for small things on my desk, like business cards and paperclips and chapstick.

8. Seagull step stool. I painted this and had it for sale and it didn’t sell. So we use it now in our kitchen. So I can get on top of the fridge to get my cake platter…that sort of thing…

9) People Magazine. Every now and then, you just gotta have it. Admit it. You totally know what I mean.

 

10) My mermaid key holder in the kitchen. I bought it for $3.00. I love it. Love it love it love it. What is there not to love about this?

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I’ll be hard on you if you talk to me about this…

I like to think I have an instinct about people, especially after carrying on in relationships that were both physically abusive and controlling. Even if I stayed with someone, it didn’t mean I didn’t recognize the signs…I just didn’t feel I was strong enough to break out of a pattern that I had followed most of my life.

A few times in the last six months or so, I’ve actually turned to a friend or J and said “this person gives me the creeps, something isn’t right.” Or, I’ve seen the way a family interacts and know that something is off.

Whether it is physical or emotional, or just plain strange, I feel it to the core.

It’s weird, it’s like I developed another sense, keenly in tune and paying attention more to those around me. There are people who I feel are being beaten. Others I see purely safe and happy and secure where they are. One I see seems mentally unstable and I avoid like the plague because it feels unsafe for me to interact. 

Out of the blue, an aqcuaintance asked me if I would have coffee with her some morning. I found it strange since we’d basically been waving to each other through the car windows for the last year. But she’s creative and always upbeat and a nice person to have around, so we met a few days later.

I come to find out that she was interested in finding out about my divorce process and how it worked. This included a request for a good attorney’s name.

It also included full disclosure for some reason, on her part, right there smack dab in the middle of our town coffee shop.

First, I come to find she wanted a divorce from her husband.

Then she says he refuses to give her one.

And in the end, she tells me that he has hit her “a few” times and the last time, her 3 year old daughter saw.

And then she had the gall to say to me, “I just don’t want my 10 year old son to see, that would kill him.”

So I took it upon myself to do something I’ve never done before, merely because I have never been in the position to do so. 

I told her that she was hurting the kids by staying in the marriage if he was hitting her, in front of the kid, even worse. I told her that even though it was “just” a three year old who saw, once, she will see it again and again and again, and so will her son. 

I looked her square in the face and said, “LADY, HE WILL KEEP DOING IT, WHETHER YOU THINK IT OR NOT.”

I was so frustrated, hearing her excuses for him and for herself and excuses why to stay with him and what his reasons for hitting her were. It made me angry because it was like I was watching myself in one of my abusive relationships and I saw how weak I was once. 

Oooooh, that sucked.

We parted ways and I haven’t heard from my friend since then. I ran into her today and she said “Oh, Movin’ (insert my name here), I HAVE to update you!”

So, at some point I will get an update.

But I have to say, I’ll continue to be hard on her if she talks to me about it. Especially if she stays. Moreso if he continues to hit her. If she talks to me about it (and it seems she’s avoiding me), I’ll be hard on her.

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