Mom Time

Good afternoon - I think I'm back among the living now. I don't know what time you posted your entry today but it just now popped up - I've been logged in for hours. And I noticed that you wrote talk to you...so I'm thinking you're going to call...but I'm going to write anyway.

I sat down here a bit ago and was kind of surfing through this Blog thing - I'm still completely ignorant as to how it all works. It's kind of cool what's out there. I got to thinking the other day, thanks to a comment from M - "What do you ever have to write about?" - this is different from journaling. Can't just anyone read our blog? You mentioned early on that I shouldn't worry so much about what is publishable and what is not, but isn't it all published the minute I hit that little orange button? I hate to look like an idiot by sending some of my drivel out there to the world. At any rate, I answered M by saying that we write about our daily lives and our friendship and families and such; he was utterly bored just hearing about it. He barely even fills out a profile on his MySpace; it seems to be more a forum for what music he likes than anything else. Which I guess I can't complain about since yesterday, on Dr. Phil, I learned that the crap kids are putting out there is really scary. (Not that M's isn't scary - it's just not that personal.)

I've spent the past couple of days trying to be a good SHM; J asked me last week "So, how do you like your new job?" I thought that was very sweet of him, since he didn't do air quotes around the word job or sound sarcastic at all; he was very sincere. That helps me to put the deserved value into this. And actually, I am really, really liking it. I seem to be pretty productive, at least these first couple of weeks, in terms of getting things done around the house. I make a list each morning that morphs throughout the day (which necessitates re-writing it a few times, because it gets messy with all the cross-outs, and that makes me grumpy). I've always been a chronic list-maker so I wouldn't have the faintest idea how to get through the day without one, but I'm finding that I'm getting better about following and completing things now that I don't have all this other crap going on in my head. One day last week I cleaned both upstairs bathrooms and later told J, "this job is going to be great as long as that task only lands in my in-basket once a month or so." I'm practicing treating it like a real job, which isn't terribly easy to do since it's so random, both task-wise and time-wise. I'm learning that it's ok if I want to take a nap or watch Oprah or spend an hour at the library in the middle of the "work day" - mostly because I'm the one still "working" at 11:00 at night. I have to do this - to work this way in my head - to feel productive and participatory and worthwhile. Nothing wrong with that, I suppose. Seems a little anal to me, but it's making me feel good.

I did actually go to the library today. I had to get out of the house early to drop my car off for a service, which was awesome. I was already showered and had coffee in hand, walking into Target practically as they unlocked the doors. I usually spend the morning doing stuff on the computer or running loads of laundry through, or figuring out dinner; in fact, yesterday, I never left the house once but to go to the bus stop. So A) it was nice to get out and B) it was nice to feel like I still had the whole day left after an hour in Target. A delightful, quiet hour during which I only had a few things I needed to buy; I walked through the kitchen gadget aisles and the bath towels and the picture frames and the workout clothes...just browsing away in no hurry whatsoever because it was only 9:00!! I ended up in the book department, where I spent half my time, and wrote down the titles of a dozen books I want to ask for at Christmas. When I left there, I headed home but made a sharp right at the light instead, as I had a sudden bug up my butt to go to the library. Two reasons I don't use my library: 1. I love owning books. I love knowing they're mine, I can write in them, I can refer back to them, whatever. 2. I am terrible about returning books; as bad as videos. I've probably paid a year's salary in late fees in my life time. But, today, I thought, I don't have a book that's calling to me right now and I want one...so I'm just going to go check one out. Well, I checked out three that were on my list, and a fourth by an author on the list whose latest title wasn't available. By the way, one is Picoult's Nineteen Minutes, so if you were still planning to send that, no need.

One that I picked up is The Secret. Have you read it? I really don't know much about it, but I keep hearing about people who've read it. Like Tuesdays With Morrie or The Kite Runner or Eat, Pray, Love, I feel like I have to at least give it a shot or I'll be a total literary loser. Hmmm... I read a bit when I got home and so far, it reads like a scary infomercial for positive thinking. Not, mind you, that I'm against positive thinking. And not, certainly, that I couldn't use a little help in that area (ok, a lot of help). It's just kind of cheesy, that's all. Tell me if you've read it; what did you think? I know I get sucked in by every self-help tool out there, but I'm trying to be little more discerning. I've come to recognize that The Quilter's Guide To A Happy Life probably isn't going to help me much, but I still struggle with what might be relevant and what might be ridiculous.

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M has a new girlfriend, did I tell you that? Can I say her real name? I have to, it's Ariel, because J calls her The Mermaid. I'm sure M just loves that, but it cracks me up. I did meet her - she's very nice, shook my hand and everything. Plus, she's older than he is, and she drives! Yeah! But here we go - here's the catch. Because there always is one, isn't there? I found out that she lives with her Grandma and when I asked why, M told me "Well, she never knew her dad and her mom's in prison." Well then. Isn't that nice. "For what?" I ask, and he says he doesn't know! Hello!! I know I grew up in a pretty privileged environment where I doubt that any of my friends had parents behind bars (unless it was for, like, corporate embezzlement), but I don't remember any kid in my high school who wouldn't ask why if someone did. Does it really not matter to him? Or did he feel it was prying to ask? I mean, if she told him, it must be ok to talk about, right? I thought that was just weird. Are dysfunctional families that typical, or common? Or is it just that I've somehow managed to raise a kid who doesn't pass judgement and sees beyond the surface? And really, I have to say, I don't judge her. I'm sure she's a very nice girl (oh GOD! do I sound like P or what) but I feel like there's got to be some disadvantages in her life that present challenges that might cause issues....I can't even write this down because I'm making myself nauseous with my conservative blah, blah, blah...for crying out loud, I've dated guys who've been in jail themselves!! Who am I to talk? I'll stop now before I start sounding like the mothers I hate. BUT! I am a little concerned about the whole sex thing.

T and S and C, our own daughter, all think it's time to give M some condoms. Argh!!! Seriously? In fact, C was funny, she says, "Just go get some fun ones. Colored or something." Good God!! And imply that I actually put some thought into it?? That it's fun to buy condoms for your kid? Oh, help!! I'm not ready for this. I know - no, wait, I think - they're right. It's not like I don't believe in providing birth control. You know that. It's just that it's my own kid. Not yet, please. Can't we just play with Legos a little longer? I wish he had a normal father who could take the lead on this one; I wish he and J were closer so J could do it for me. But no, it's just me and it's my job and I'm freaking out about it. I fancy myself so liberal and open-minded until the real s**t hits the fan, then I get all confused. No, not confused; I know what I believe in. I just thought, I guess, it would be easier to do, that's all. (I didn't list this book on my wish list, but I loved the title anyway: I Was A Really Good Mom Before I Had Kids.) Indeed.

Well my dear, I should think about getting off my butt and getting ready for the boys to come home. M's bringing The Mermaid over today to hang out. I hate hanging out. Why do you have to close the door to hang out? Why can't you hang out outside, in a large crowd, in broad daylight? I just hate that part where I have to say "keep your door open" because I feel like such my mother. But I know I'm right, and justified, and perfectly normal. Still, I hate being uncool.

Hope you had a good day at school and that you might have time to write tonight or in the morning. Love you!
A