Fuck you and the horse you rode in on, or the car you cut me off in, or the phone that you used to hang up on me with or the random, pointless comment that you just made which incited a rage fueled diatribe against ALL social media... including "blogging" and the seemingly endless emails that are building with no end in sight. How in the hell can I have just deleted 96 emails yesterday only to find 342 in my inbox today? How can people have the nerve to send me questions regarding "updates" and "friend requests" and "you didn't comment on that thing I sent you" in an email?????? If you are referring to a facebook post, then I will get to it if and when I want to get to it. AND, if I chose not to comment on it, maybe I just smiled at the sweet photo or the funny comment and kept scrolling. My love for you is not dependant upon whether or not I answer your damn email. Keep it up and I will just keep adding your inane questions and droll remarks to the SPAM folder...
I am tired today and I have PMS and I am in the midst of a crisis; there is no cat food or chocolate in the house and I am already in my pajamas. The cat is meowing outside the bedroom door and my hormones are screaming for Haagen Daaz peanut butter and chocolate ice cream and my children are in the hallway (visualize this) kicking a large plastic ball at each other... as hard as they possibly can. The ball just ricocheted off of Ty's head, hit the light and just landed next to my foot. Nick is laughing and doing some kind of dance that makes it look like he is trying not to shit his pants and Ty has recovered the ball only to turn, kick it and this time, it bounced off the cat's head. Well, he's off and running so I guess I don't have to worry about the cat food for a few minutes. I just reached down to adjust the blanket and I noticed that there is a bottle of white-out on my bedcover, open and spilling out all over the brown material... Now Jake is standing in the doorway of the bedroom, blatantly pissed off because he DVR'd the Kings game and it isn't working, oh, wait, it's working now, he's suddenly happy again. I feel like I am shooting my own reality show, only with words and with no camera. Wait, Nick just told Ty to eat a shit sandwich and Ty is doubled over laughing. "Go to bed Ty" Tim's voice is mellow but serious as he tries to find the right spot to start the Kings game as Ty chants, "I'm not going to bed... ever!" Okay, Tim gave up; they went in the other room to watch the game while Ty continues to roll around on the floor, the ball long forgotten.
The thing about this house is that there is never a predictable moment. Even when I shout, "Let's go" as in, we need to get out of the fucking house, right this fucking minute, something always happens. I can't find my keys, Ty only has one shoe on, Jake needs lunch money, Nick left his P.E. clothes somewhere but nobody knows where, someone forgot to feed the dog, the water is still running in the bathroom, somebody poked somebody, looked at somebody funny, laughed at the wrong time... it is never the same, never predictable and seemingly unstable. Wait, Ty just came in, stuck out his tongue and said, "My tongue is red" and I said "Oh, what from?" and he said, "It's not from popsicles or candy" and I said, "It's not?" and he said, "No, it's from Nick's shirt" and I chuckled "Nick's shirt?" and Ty laughed, cackling, climbing up on the bed with me just now, "Yeah, I just licked Nick's shirt." I didn't even bat an eye, "Ok, come on, get a book and come up under the covers." "Ok Mom. But paper sucks" and then he walked out, hitting every single blind covering the sliding glass door on his way out." There he goes. I'm counting the peaceful seconds until he returns.
Much has been happening in the Hawley household this past week. It has been an eclectic mix: a Confirmation, a car accident, allergies, 2 complete meltdowns (mom only), loss of income, illness, car trouble, family issues, baseball, students, dog issues and a friendship renewed. I finally am beginning to understand that innate delicacy with which Erma Bombeck and Chris Erskine describe familial moments so well. It is like second nature, like watching a film of events as they are happening but as a part of the whole. Like today, when I was driving Nick and Ty to the doctor and this mother fucker cut me off and I mean CUT ME OFF, with no warning, no blinker, nothing, just swerved right into my lane. Now this kind of thing annoys me but when the kids are in the car, it sets my teeth on edge to the point where I must do something about it. This makes no sense as I push my foot down hard on the gas pedal and gun it, catching up to the Dodge whatever make it is, pulling up alongside to see that it's a kid, not much older than my Jake and he's bouncing his head to whatever music he's listening to and when he looks over and sees me, he nods as if to say "What's up?" I have to pause for a second, trying to reach back to that place of being 16 or 17 and to not giving a shit to what was happening on the road around me, not caring about cutting someone off so long as I didn't hit anyone or anything, I tried really hard to reach back to that moment when driving was still "fun" and not an obligation... and while I didn't quite get there, I did understand, for just a second, right when the light turned green and Ty shouted "GREEN" and the kid sped off, that my life really is no longer what it once was. I'm not the Homecoming Queen anymore, or Rich and Steve's "big" sister, I'm not the little naive waitress or the inexperienced first year teacher, I'm not the new mom or the incompetent pretending to know what the hell she's doing. I've changed. Maybe I didn't want to acknowledge that because although I love change and change implies growth, it also means that the things that I once loved about myself or maybe that I used to define myself are no longer as important as they used to be, at least to me. And maybe that shouldn't bother me as much as it does, well, it does. I mean, I like who I am, who I've become but I really liked who I was, when there wasn't has much "hard" worry about the important things. I always had money and a car, I had fun things to do and to look forward to, my friends were around constantly and we didn't have to plan to be together. I do wish, that on some simple level, that I could have some of that wistfulness back. I do not want to go back nor do I want to be the ages that my kids are at, I mean it when I say that. I got to do it once and that was enough; I enjoyed my turn, but I miss the looking forward without the knowledge of what is already going to happen. I never used to ask myself what will happen if? I usually just jumped or, I worried about jumping so much that the desire to do it just went away altogether, out of fear or a beating to death of the idea. I guess I just miss the "newness" of things and I suppose that is why I am very aware of the chaos that makes up my family and that envelops our home like a fog. I like it, I crave it and, honestly, it makes me feel young, whole, complete.
I am defined by these moments of chaos and anger, of uncertainty and mischief, of pain and hardship, of love... Ty just asked me if I would make him a breakfast burrito, read him a Disney story and play Skylanders with him before school tomorrow. I didn't even hesitate "Sure I will honey" I said simply, already dreading the day when he won't be here to ask anymore. What else is there to say? My life has not belonged to me in a very long time and I wouldn't have it any other way...
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