Wednesday, November 6, 2013


The day after election day. Always a turbulent one, is it not? Either the things you voted for passed or they didn't. In my case, they didn't. Badly. My state voted against something that would have helped schools across the state have funding. Teachers would have been able to have raises and job security, and the schools could have hired more teachers. They could have had more money to spend per student. Apparently, though, if it involves a tax increase (which would have been a measly $75 for my family, per year, though it would have created a tiered tax structure) for anyone, people will vote no. I tend to put my kids first, and I'm tempted to just give the school the $75 my taxes would have increased. I know nothing is perfect but come on. At least I voted.

My parents have a dog (had?), a chocolate lab. Shen. He's nearly 15, and we got him as a tiny brown furball just after I turned 16. We went and said goodbye to him this weekend. Well, me, C, Dee, and a close friend  (who until recently dated my brother and loved the dog like her own) did. J stayed in the car because he didn't want to go inside. Shen hadn't been eating. His back legs don't work. He lay there, shaking, and his tail didn't even try to wag and I sat there furious that they were letting him suffer like that. I was powerless to help. I am not strong enough to perform cervical dislocation on a (once) 120 pound lab. I had no options. I wanted desperately to end his suffering but I could do nothing. Just like when my grandma died. She, at least, had the refuge of morphine. Saying goodbye was the same. Shen was gone, only his husk remains. When I said goodbye to my grandma she was no longer present in her body. I said goodbye to their empty, ancient meat. That was all. This, two days after some of our best friends had to put their own dog down after his 18 years with them. I hope they've put him down by now, or that he's died on his own, but I've heard nothing.

Dee may be night weaned but she sure as shit isn't sleeping through the night. I have been up with her for at least an hour (continuous or not) 5 out of the last 6 nights. She sometimes sleeps all night, but it's rare. I just want a full fucking night of sleep. Like 10-6. With no interruptions, and I want to sleep IN. I haven't slept in since Dee was a baby, C was hunting, and we all slept until 11 one morning. That was over 2 years ago.

It seems that the universe is telling me I have no control over things. Reminding me. Taking away my sturdy ground and making me feel powerless and angry. Frustrated and helpless to the edge of tears. I control what I can. I let the OCD slip in here and there aroundtheedgeswheremaybeit'snottakingoveryet. I load the dishwasher. I put the spoons/forks/knives in their slots where they go so they're sorted. I desperately try to keep tiny little places sorted and clean. Plates aligned just so in our crappy tiny 20-year-old dishwasher. I can't focus. I fight the irrational fury from escaping and causing my kids' sweet faces to crumple. All J wants to do is read a book with me. It's a long and sometimes aggravating process because he's just learning but he insists on reading Level 2 readers because those are the Spider-Man books we have and because "See Mama, I can do these, I just need a little help and ugh I can't remember this word...". Dee...she's two. She's mercurial and sassy and smart and there are times when I cannot stand to be near her because she makes me want to scream for no reason at all. When I snap at them I break inside, watching the light in their eyes and their lips start trembling. I'm a terrible mother sometimes. Then J says things like "Mama, you're not lazy. You do all kinds of wonderful things for us like make us costumes." And I want to retreat into a cave and cry because I don't deserve them.

I know I'm being stupid and irrational. I have taken my meds. I know. I have been playing far too much Spore because it's somewhere I have 100% control over the things that happen to my people. 

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