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 |  Pearls of wisdom, inappropriate thoughts and the occasional rant. |
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My child is going to murder me. I swear, I'm not trying to keep my Ravyn at home forever! After her 14th birthday (2 years ago) we went to get an ID so she could get her nose pierced. Although I had enough paperwork to prove her identity and all, I was told I had forgotten something for myself. We waited for 4 hours at the DMV to be sent home. I can't remember what it was that I needed, but I put it off. So just after the 15th birthday, we tried again. For a week straight, we showed up at 8 am and waited until the cut-off time of 4:30 pm without being seen. So I put it off some more. Now she's 16 and once again, I've remembered to put it on my list. She's ready to get a job and increase her savings to go to California. After two weeks of her bitching, we go up to the DMV. However, the DMV has changed due to the pandemic. You must go online to make an appointment at a regional office. Cool beans, I thought, we'll get seen for sure! Only the next available appointment for a new ID/DL is in March at a location 50 miles away, at 8am. Does anyone want to tell her for me? |
There are words stuck in my throat, threatening to suffocate me if I don't get them out. I've wanted to unleash them for years but resisted because of fear. I don't want to show the world my family skeletons, but I want to be free of them. Some I've never admitted to my husband. Do I fear being judged or ridiculed? Am I ashamed of my past or my family? If I put my story on paper, will I really feel better or create more problems? I guess I'll find out soon enough. I don't dare write on something that could be easily read if found around the house. So I'm thinking about using a book item here. Set to private for now because some things are just too personal. I wish I had someone to talk to about everything that has happened. At the moment, all I can do is cry. I've had to cut ties with my only actual friend I had, my soul sister of twentysomething years because her husband was extremely inappropriate with my daughter. There, that's one secret released. But I remain alone and distraught. |
Since it's been five years or so, I'm updating my will and gathering up important information my family may need in case I make an unexpected trip to the great library in the sky. I've left instructions to get into this account to notify someone and to make a couple of items public. Out of all the things on my list, this bothers me the most. I guess because it's more personal than a bunch of numbers on paper. I told my youngest daughter, Ravyn, that if I haven't published my damn poetry by the time I've checked out to do it for me. But not the ones that are really shitty. Those she can polish up for me first. This child says to me, "Uh, do I have to? I don't even understand half of them." To which I replied, "Nope. You don't have to do it. I just thought you may want to since I would like to have something for future generations. But hey, I'll be dead and the chances of me haunting you until it's complete are probably slim." Silence. She went back to doing her school work and I slyly changed all the smart bulbs in the house (except where I sitting) to blue. Before I could say anything, she came back. "Okay, whatever you want. I think your ghost is mad at me and I know damn well you won't stop messing with me until it's done. Just leave the name of someone that can help me so I don't end up with a pissed ghost mom for eternity." |
| I finally held my grandbaby! Izzy is such a doll! She's small for her age, but that's normal for preemies I'm told. I'm a little worried there might be some developmental delays, but I'm keeping that to myself for now. My daughter has her hands full, that's for sure. Her boyfriend has become addicted to Xanax. His mother, who owns the house they live in, thinks the only problem he has is my daughter. Because, of course, she purposely got pregnant to trap him. Not once, but twice. I'm seriously afraid of what's going to happen when this relationship ends. I feel helpless. I'm going to plan on going once a month from now on. I wish I were closer. 340 miles in two days really wears me out. |
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but seems to be okay today. I worry about my poor circulation, scrub my toes with a soft bristle brush, watch discoloration come and go. I probably need new arteries or veins but hey... "Heathcare" USA (enough said?). I may be better off trying something here in Thailand. But still... wish I lived in a country that had adequate patient based healthcare. Thailand and Taiwan mostly do, but I can't access it. First world systems like Europe, Canada and Australia do, but again, I can't access it.