onceandfutureglow's Blog

When Mr. Glow and I met, it was January 1999. Fashion was at an iffy place, and in our separate ways, so were we. We were both trying to be alone, but somehow we kept ending up together, in coffee shops, on road trips, lying on a blanket in some park we'd broken into after hours so we could see the stars away from the city lights. I was still in the first insane moments of what I would later learn was called Borderline Personality Disorder, and I was reeling. I had no idea why I ached so badly, felt so empty, and I couldn't make it stop. I was becoming a drunk, destroying relationships I'd had for years, trying as hard as a 20-year-old possibly could to destroy my credit.

There is an old saying that music soothes the savage beast, and sometimes, if I could bury myself in a song, it could tame what was screaming inside of me.

I remember sitting in my living room at 3am one night, and Mr Glow was teaching me to play this song. As I watched, his long hair kept falling into his eyes as he played. He sang the words while I learned the chords, his voice made my heart ache, in a way that eclipsed the hole inside.

Somehow, in three months, he convinced me that he would never leave. My screwed up view of relationships and inability to sustain anything real were washed away by this hippie boy with the blue eyes and tousled hair. There was just something about him that calmed the raging inside of me. Patient, laid back, steady, he was. I married him after three months of dating. This was never really "our song" but it probably fits better than any other.

So anyway, I was on youtube tonight looking at Bob Marley videos, somehow ended up on this song, and it made me smile for the boy who rescued me from myself.

My mood: a bit mellow

I think I must have shared a glass with Scoobs at the EP bash the other night. Here's hoping this is a bug and not The Bug.

Taking it easy today. My oldest woke up vomiting last night, and I'm trying to take care of him and the baby, while not touching the baby and wanting to crawl in a hole and die.

I think it is a rule that mothers cannot get sick unless there is at least one sick person and one well person to take care of. Bonus if those two people keep trying to make the well one sick too.

My mood: very sick

Well, it would seem that, as they say, "another one bites the dust"

Our little friend with the jokes and insults was either removed or has actually followed through with his threats to delete.

Stop.

Wait.

Don't mourn for him. His kind will always be around.

Eh, I missed most of the drama, because I was spending my free time finishing my first Stephen King book. Commented on the last blog he wrote. (*sniff* good times.) He messaged me back, calling me names and insisting I didn't know what was going on. I replied "Don't I?".

I'll never know what his reply would have been.

My email says he replied. I have "New Mail" in my "New Just for you" box here. But there is no message.

*sigh*

How bout us wenches remember the good times together and raise our cups to trolls everywhere.

*HUZZAH*

Seriously, though...I can't help but feel bad for people like that. People who always have to turn everyone against them so they never really have friends. He kept saying that everyone was his enemy except one. I wonder who that was. Is it himself? It's just sad to me. We were speaking of insults and irritations. Where did enemies come into play?

Sometimes my life seems like a big sitcom, and I feel like there should be canned laughter spilling over the appropriate moments. It's just, life is so freaking weird sometimes, and there is no owner's manual. Being a mom has taught me so much, but the biggest thing I have learned is that I don't know anything, and one of my biggest fears is that one day, these kids will call my bluff.

My dad always calls in the mornings to make sure we're up. It's extremely annoying, but we are accustomed to it. My husband works late, and we usually sit up a while before he goes to bed. Last night we were up late with visitors from out of town who showed up unannounced. Today he didn't call. He does this occasionally to "teach us responsibility" but calls the next day, and it becomes as much a part of our lives as the dog barking at the garbage truck. He didn't call, and we got up late. My son is supposed to be at school at 8am. We woke up at 7:53. We're rushing around trying to get him out the door. At 7:59 the phone starts ringing. I know it's my dad. And I ignore the phone because we're trying collectively to get the kid out the door. The answering machine picks up.

*beep*

Hey. Pick up. Hello? Are y'all there? Pick up the phone....Hello?...Call me back when you get this.

The phone starts ringing immediately.

*beep*

Pick up the phone! Hey! Are you awake? Hellooooo? I need to ask you something. Pick up the phone. Ok. Call me back when you get this.

This is repeated about eight more times.

When you call me. If I don't answer the phone, I am either busy or can't get to the phone. If I . haven't called you back. I'm either still busy or I don't want to talk to you.

Today, we're getting ready to get my oldest son from school, and the little guy needed to get a jacket and shoes on. I call him in, and he's not coming. He's three. It's not cute anymore. He's being a pill, and I'm having to teach him to be a civilzed person and not just run rampant. It's not so much tantrums as it is stubbornness. He has a plan. If I deviate from his plan then things go downhill pretty quickly. He doesn't come. I ask him again. I hear general crashes from the kitchen. I call again. I cwean up. We're running late. We need to leave. I call again. Tell him he needs to get dressed so we can go get his brother. No Mommy. I not get dwess. I cwean up. What do I say to that? On one hand, I want him to understand that he should do what I say. I'm the mommy. That's how life goes. But how on earth can I possibly discourage a male child cleaning things?

My children are the odd couple. The oldest comes in from school, takes one shoe off immediately, the other shoe off two steps later, drops his bag wherever it happens to fall. He's fast, hyper, uber talkative. The youngest comes in, sits down in the chair, takes both shoes off and puts them in the shoe tray. If he has a coat, he hands it to me. He's quiet, calm, easygoing. He has a very keen sense of where things belong, and a deep need to put them there.

I sat yesterday and watched the oldest trying diligently to build a train track in the wake of a horrific hot wheels crash and a pile of books and dress up clothes. The youngest was angrily following him around putting the books on the shelf, the cars in their bin, and putting train track in the train track bin almost as fast as his brother could set them out on the floor.

In other news, I have lost one of my cordless phones. I only have one friend who lives nearby, and we were talking today. The only phone I could find showed low battery when I picked it up. I tell her I can't find my other phone. I can't talk long because the battery will die soon. I hate it when that happens. It is such a letdown. Why can't we just say what we need to quickly and say goodbye? Why do we have to get in the middle of a long involved story, and get cut off. Hello? Ok. Well. Guess we're cut off. So. I'll just stop talking to me now. And put the phone back on the charger. Yeah.

Inevitably at this point, the phone rings. It's her. Because she is also feeling let down. And so she calls. And I go rushing back to the charger and pick up the phone that I know is dead. Push the talk button sevral times. Talking to her, even though she can't hear me. The phone is dead. I told you! Why are you calling. You know I can't answer.

I feel like I've failed somehow. Standing in line for a show I know is sold out, but hanging out there because I feel obligated to.

*beep*

Hey, it's me. So... I guess your phone died? (Really??) I just wanted to tell you if you're going to town, that Kroger has turkey for 37 cents a pound if you spend ten dollars. So if you're going you'll know. Anyway, Just thought you might want to know. So I thought I'd call. But your phone is dead. So I'll just talk to you later. Ok. Bye. Yeah. Bye.

Stop talking to me. I  can't answer. Why the all the pauses like you expect something from me.Like you don't know I'm standing mutely next to the answering machine, unable to talk back to you. I know I ramble endlessly on voicemail. This is why I don't leave them if I can help it. Most especially if I know that the person is listening to me.

 It's a dreary day today, but it fits my mood. I love Autumn...I have had on my hoodie all day. Snuggly socks.

I think I might make some popcorn tonight and try to catch up on House.

 

Well, life happens sometimes. I guess.

The internet wasn't twitchy. the router was. But by the time Mr. Glow, the electronics and computer guru, figured this out - I was twitchy from no internet. I halfway suspect that he did this on purpose as some form of intervention since the last time he tried to talk to me I told him that I didn't choose to communicate with people who had not previously looked at my top eight experiences.

I think that the loss of my choicest vice was (gasp of horror) a good thing though. I found that I had all of this time. To do all of these things. It was amazing. Being the nerd that I am, I sat down immediately and started trying to make a pie chart of my time. It was not a pretty picture, folks. So now I have a shiny new schedule posted in my office with the day mapped out. I guess I've just enjoyed feeling better with EP and my circle than without. But all things in moderation is something that was never in my vocabulary. I have scheduled a very generous amount of time for my internet...but also some time for my other loves too. I was shocked to find that my callouses from guitar have worn down, and I now have bruised fingertips.

Good stuff.

Now..

MrG and I have a very odd relationship. We lock horns on most things, but in so many ways, we're best friends still. So yesterday, deprived of my primary means of escape, I finally exploded. I told him that I couldn't handle it anymore. I told him that I wanted him to get out if he couldn't do better. I told him that I was tired of him yelling all the time, tired of him not doing anything around here, tired of being the only grownup in the house. I said that I couldn't deal with the lack of intimacy. (Not sex. Intimacy. Cuddles, Kisses for no reason, a shared life.) He says that I'm just angry, and that I always say this when I'm angry. It will pass and I'll love him again.

That's just it. I am not mad. This is no marriage. This is two people sharing a house. You've left. Checked out. I love you with all of my heart, but I can't live like this.

Excuses, apologies, whatever. I slept alone again.

Then today, he's the old MrG. The one I married. It was amazing...I asked what happened. He says he was thinking about it last night, and he hates what he is becoming, what we are becoming. That he misses me.

I don't know. I am the biggest skeptic ever. But I can't walk out if he's trying.

Maybe the router isn't the only thing that's twitchy.

Ugh, it's been a crazy week.

I have been in a drug induced haze most of the week.

Today, Mr G is off work, so I'm trying very hard to not take anything today. So reaction headache from the vicodin, and I can't focus on anything.

I think I'm mostly over the injury, and as long as I take a muscle relaxer before bed, I'll be okay.

So, anyway, I miss everyone. I have been trying to read and comment a little, but I just haven't had the focus. Hopefully the normal Glow will be back in a day or two.

I can't stand this.

For those of you who don't konw. I am taking pain pills and muscle relaxers for back strain. I got behind in my housework Sunday because I was hurt, and then yesterday I was at the doctors. Today I have been working very hard to just push through it and get caught up.

Long story short, MrG offered to iron while I did the folding and putting away, and keeping the wash going. He ironed his own shirt and pants for work tonight. Nothing else. SO I am sitting in the living room wiith laundry piled around me. I have to get it put away. The rest of the things I was trying to do are mostly done..

But to push through all of this, I keep taking more and more of the meds. I'm allowed 3 muscle relaxers and six pain pills during the day, I started with half of each because I have such a low tolerance for them. Now, I have taken two of each, and I am high. I am so high I can't feel my face, but my back is still spasming, and I can't bring myself to get up and put this stuff away.

I hate feeling like this. It's one thing to choose to be high. I smoked my share of pot back in the day, and it was nice. But it was planned. I had nothing going on, nothing else to do. No kids. I hate it, i can't focus on anything. I have to be extremely careful with my writing. I only know how many meds I have taken because I have the bottles sitting on a pad of paper with a pen on top so I will remember to write it down so I won't overdose myself.

Last night it took forever to make dinner because I couldn't think. It was easy, precooked stuff, but I couldn't remember what I was doing, kept wandering off. Forgetting, and burning the chicken. I hate feeling this way.

I haven't been online much because I can't read things very well, I can't concentrate.

I just wish I could take a little and rest, no work, no kids to deal with, just to be able to put on some stupid tv show and rest for two days so that I can get back to business as usual.

So now, I have three hours left before I can put the kids down for bed. I have to make food, get them ready for bed and pick the house up. Still have a load in the wash and in the dryer. And I'm sitting down with my numb head and oh so sore back.

Maybe tomorrow will be better.

I love this movie. Love this song..

Just feeling the desire to be part of a Moment right now..

I have been meaning to post a Yo Gabba Gabba blog for a while...becuase everyone should see it once before they die....

But here's the best of the best, with Jack Black. I have looked and looked for an embeddable copy of the actual video...but...Jack Black in an orange spandex unitard is a wonder to behold...

Happy Halloween everyone!!

I have been so busy with pumpkins and cupcakes and sewing...I have missed everyone. Nice to see that my circle is still thriving in my absence. But you could have at least pretended to fall apart without me. No? Ah well.

SO anyway. I thought I'd take a moment today to entice my readers with my very own spooky tale.

If I believed in ghosts...

Well, I'll leave that one alone. I don't really believe or disbelieve. But I know that strange things happen sometimes. And that some places seem to have stranger things happen more often than other places.

The second place I lived when Mr Glow and I were married was a duplex. From the first night I felt strange there. Some of you have talked with me about the fact that I'm very sensitive to things. The emotional climate of a place, the "vibe" or whatever. This place felt fine to me. Nothing ominous or anything, but the first night I was to spend there, I was alone. Mr Glow was in the Marine Corps, and his unit was in the field that week. I was moving about, putting things away, unpacking. Just me, one spunky dachshund, one timid great dane and one stripey cat.

Suddenly, I began to feel like I wasn't alone. It wasn't scary per se. It was just something else there. I couldn't shake it, walking from room to room. It was as if there was someone walking along with me. Moderately companionable silence. Empty rooms just feel different. So it finally began unnerved me when it didn't stop, and I called a friend to sleep over. She and I had a good evening, slept, and woke up unmolested.

I didn't notice it after that for a while.

But one day, I was home during the day, and taking a shower. I heard someone moving through the house, heard the toilet seat move. I assumed it was MrG home early. I told him I'd be out in a minute. I heard the sound of liquid hitting water, and then the toilet flushed. I heard someone move out of the room again and shut the door that I'd left open.

When I got out, I was alone in the house with the deadbolts on both doors locked, as I'd left them. MrG had not been home, as I called and talked to him immediately after at work.

After that, occasionally the toilet would on its own, and most of the time, if you forgot to shut a door, or didn't shut it immediately because you needed to make a second trip, it would become shut. We lived in that house for a year, and nothing that big ever happened again until the thing that finally sealed it for me.

And I swear to you that every word of this is true. I was doing laundry one day. I had been feeling particularly overworked. Extra responsibilities at work bleeding into my time at home, school getting to that part of the year where you're extremely busy, and no help at home. SO I'd just been on the phone, talking to a friend about this. The dryer buzzed, and I went to put the pone on the hook so I could get the laundry.

It was already folded in a neat stack on top of the dryer.

 I started looking for a new place to live the next day.

So I have been angry all afternoon. Frustrated at MrG (understatement). I had to go buy a coat for the kindergartener. (I've been thinking about this..and I'm about to name my kids, like Lauren. Because it's just ridiculous with the little Glow and littlest glow or the kindergartener. Surely I can find something with less than five syllables to call him. But that's another blog)

Anyway. We're in town, and I decide to eat McDonalds. They've been wanting chicken nuggets for a while now, and I'm too irritated to cook. A mini housework strike. I'm thinking, this will show him, he'll come home and there will be no food to eat, HAH.

But gave in on the way home, and stopped by his job and told him we were doing the fast food thing and made sure he had cash with him.

I'm such a pushover.

Then, I guess I finally got some good Karma. Because when I got home, my dad (who lives next door) is standing outside. He wants the kids for the night.

This is unheard of in itself. He will sometimes take the oldest, but he has never taken both of them unless it was a special request by me. (Think - anniversary or overnight trip somewhere.)

So I have a clean house, and nothing to do...I had forgotten how this feels. It's freedom. I think the house might implode from the quiet. It's very nice :D

I should do something, like the Halloween costumes I have to be finished with by Friday. I normally plan every kid free minute out carefully to get the most work done.

But I feel like I should bask in the moment. Seriously, no dishes, no baths, no sitting with them until they fall asleep....

I'm giddy.

I am just...angry..and pissed...and GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!

I have been spluttering incoherrently for the last fifteen minutes....trying to calm down and be calm. I just said that.

*deep breaths*

My husband is the most...the most...all I can think of is swear words at this point.

*more deep breaths*

The beginning? Yes, that might be a good idea. So today, my kindergartener had his first field trip. Kindergarten, first and second grades were going to the "pumpkin patch" to pick pumpkins. I decided to go because I don't work, and Mr Glow goes to work in the afternoons, and can take care of the 3-year-old.

So the kid and I leave this morning. MrG was up at 3am on the computer. I know this because I woke up at 3 and went to get some water. No idea when he went to sleep, but I knew he'd be sleepy today. I debated on whether or not to go on the trip, Finally decided to go. I cannot stand the shallow people around here, but I want to be with my kid. Plus, he's a little high strung, and there are, like, farm animals and tractors and God knows what else at this place. I felt that an extra pair of eyes couldn't be anything but good.

I get to school, and there are two other kindergarten moms there. I am thoroughly out of my comfort zone, but manage to put them at ease. I can play vapid if need be. Once they're talked into feeling comfortable, I begin to feel a little better too, picking up on their moods. We hang out in the cafeteria until the kids get on the bus, and then we follow them to the pumpkin patch.

Now, I have never been to this place, but it's not just a pumpkin place. They have horse rides and hay rides and a petting zoo and a restaurant. I knew that. I did not know that they have put put, and this huge indoor place with this stupid train with cars made out of oil drums (that drives around indoors on no track. the kids were bored out of their minds) I also did not know they had several air inflatable jumpers. The tallest was maybe 20 feet tall, the longest was maybe fifty feet long. These kids had a blast! There were about 75 kids on the trip ages 5-8. My kid's teacher is amazing. I watched her kiss boo boos while keeping the kids from running or pushing and standing at the tallest jumper and boosting a steady line of kids up if they were too short. She's smiling the whole time, chatting with the parents and the other teachers. I marvel at her calm.

After about an hour and a half here, we move outside to eat.

Did I mention yet that it's raining? It's grey and cold and wet and muddy. Not even the real rain, just those nasty splattery drops that feel like nature is blowing a very wet raspberry in your general direction. Little Glow forgot to bring the jacket I reminded him no less than seven times to get.
So guess who goes without and cringes at tiny feet and large puddles and her new white jacket?

Yup, Polka Dot Glow.

They sit down to eat, and I'm feeling like a sore thumb. But then years and years of working with kids kicks in without my noticing. I'm halfway down the table, opening milk and chip bags, zipping up jackets, marvelling with a kid at the carrot sticks in his lunch, holding another kids frozen fingers in my own for a minute..and hugs, lots and lots of hugs...before I remembered that I had very much wanted to be an elementary teacher before I found my Autistic kids. Kids are so easy, so simple. There is no real deceit in them at this age. Half his class had repeatedly declared their love for me before the trip was over. And they mean it too, at that age. As much as they can understand anyway.

As there was mud to slog through, and several kids without a coat, and the coats that were here were mostly hoodies and therefore wet, the peole said there was somewhere indoors we could get pumpkins. This consisted of walking to a large cardboard box and being handed a tiny pumpkin to take home. So no picking pumpkins, but at the very least,  we kept the clothes from being soaked through with mud as well as water.

It was a decent trip, I went away feeling pretty happy anyway.

But then, I get home...

And my husband. My husband who gets angry at me when he comes home to a messy kitchen. When I have made the food with two kids screaming and fighting behind my head. When it takes eight times as long to get the meal cooked because I'm interrupted so many times...Food, baths, pjs, teeth brushed, room cleaned, read a story and put to bed...When I have been through that from 4:30-8:30 without stopping, I just want to sit for a while. I've been going pretty much steady since 6am, I just want to sit down. But he gets mad if the kitchen is not clean, saying that I don't do anything, that he works and I don't, and he has to see my cooking mess on the counters. It only happens occasionally...but he gets angry. Angry if I want a break.

So I come home. My child has a big scratch on his hip that was bleeding, and hadn't been taken care of. He is naked. He has smeared peanut butter all over his room, because the man did not feed him. He climbed up and got the peanut butter out of the cabinet and took it to his room and ate. The smears are because he doesn't like to be messy so he tried to wipe his hands off between swipes. Nothing has been done. Dogs haven't been fed. Cat hasn't been fed. Birds haven't been fed, My child has been injured, and not fed.

GRRRRRRRRR!!!

How can someone be that incompetent?

He was sleeping.

Oh, how nice. He was sleeping because he stayed up all effing night on the computer and now he's tired. And my kid was neglected all morning. Yes he's alive. Yes, all will be well, but there is this enormous mess and he is incapable of taking care of him for four hours. The good child! The one who doesn't really do bad things.

At this point I have lost my temper, yelled a rather lot, and retreated into a hot bath with a cup of tea.

He's fed the kid, and is cleaning up the mess. He said it's partly my fault because the peanut butter should be where he can't get to it. What?????? Because I should store my food in some kind of off site shed or something? I'm not sure there is enough bathwater or hot tea in the world to calm me down.

GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!