Are you my mother?

Adoption has been on my mind quite a bit lately. This happens now and again, the unsettled feeling rearing its ugly head. My parents adopted me when I was just 2 months old. My older brother is also adopted, although we're not biologically related. I've always known. It was never kept secret from us. For the most part, it's never been a big deal. There have been instances... in 5th grade, for example, when I told my teacher that I couldn't complete the family tree project we'd been assigned because I was adopted and didn't really know who my ancestors were. Or at my grandfather's funeral when I was about 11 or 12, overhearing my great-grandmother tell my mother that I couldn't be in the picture showing 3 generations of women in the family because I wasn't a blood relative (A lesson to be learned: kids really do retain these things. This happened 25 years ago and I remember it like it was yesterday.). God love my mom - she shot right back to my great-grandmother that if I couldn't be in the picture, she wouldn't be in it either.

But every now and again, I get the itch to start searching.

When I was about 13 or so, my mother took me to the agency that had helped her and my father with my adoption. The caseworker we spoke to was unbelievably rude, telling me I should be grateful for the parents I had and asking how I would feel if a mistake from my past came knocking on my door? A mistake that my family - husband, children - probably didn't know about. Wow. I left in tears.

I went back in my early twenties, when I learned it was my right to get non-identifying information from the agency. Thankfully, this caseworker was much more helpful. I found out that my birth-mother was 16 when she had me. That certainly answers the question of why she placed me for adoption - teenage motherhood wasn't as socially acceptable as it seems to be today - so I never really developed the feelings of rejection that a lot of adoptees do. I found out what her parents did, that they were in the middle of a divorce that year. I did some digging at the library, and went back to the caseworker. She couldn't outright give me information that would identify my birth-mother, but if I guessed, for lack of a better word, she could confirm or deny. So after the second visit I knew that her name is Barbie Pearson. She was born April 25, 1953. She was 15 when she got pregnant, 16 when I was born. She's the 2nd oldest of 5 children, was living with her mother at the time I was born because her parents had just gotten divorced.

I tried to find out more, but didn't get very far. Then I stopped because I realized it was upsetting my mother very much - she ended up with the feelings of rejection. I couldn't bear the thought of something I was doing hurting her that much. So I closed that door in my head and didn't think about it again until after my mother passed away.

Then the itch came again. I did more digging, and found someone that I thought was one of her brothers. Using the advice I'd gotten from other adoptees I'd talked to this about, I wrote him a very innocent letter - "I knew your sister when we lived near each other in Dayton, back in the late 60's, but we've lost touch with each other. I know her birthday's coming up. If you're who I think you are, could you pass this card along to her. If not, sorry to bother you." The note in the card to her read pretty much the same way. That's the way they tell you to do it - ease into it, don't just blurt out that you're the more-than-likely illegitimate child they had way back in the day, and here you are. Hi Mom, what's been shakin' the last 36 years? I never got a response from that letter or card. I let it drop assuming that either 1) I had the wrong person or 2) I had the right person and she wanted nothing to do with me.

So here we are today.

I've never really wanted to meet her. I'm not sure what I'd say. And I can't imagine what kind of relationship, if any, might develop. I've always wanted to see a picture more than anything else. Just to know if there's anyone out there that I resemble. I've done quite a bit of psycho-analyzing on this (big surprise)... I think this is in my mind so intensely because of both my parents being gone now. I've written before about these intense feelings of alone-ness (not to be confused with loneliness) that have been haunting me lately. I thought I had it pretty well pulled together... but since my dad passed away, I just don't know how I fit into the mix anymore. I'm not sure how searching for this stranger would assuage any of those feelings, especially since I don't plan any attempt to contact her even if I did track her down. And would searching for her with or without plans of making contact be an incredible invasion of her privacy? Good questions that I don't have an answer for. All I know right now is that it's like a burning itch underneath the skin that you can't get to.

6:45 am...
I never knew that children as young as my little one (2) could have nightmares. We started experiencing these about 3 months ago. Let me tell you... there are few things more terrifying than waking up at 2:30 in the morning to your child letting out blood-curdling screams. They don't happen often, maybe twice a month, but I don't think I'll ever get used to it. K was up with him last night, but our house is so small that it's impossible to go back to sleep until everything and everyone in the house is calm again. Last night's wasn't too bad - we've certainly had worse - the screaming/crying only lasted about 30 minutes (we've had it go on for more than an hour before), and he was back to sleep in another 45 minutes or so after that. At that point, I probably should've just stayed up, cruise the internet, watch some tv, get into work a little early. But I didn't. I made the mistake of trying to catch another hour and a half of sleep. Now, even after a large diet Coke from McD's on the way into work, and a cup of coffee at work, I can hardly keep my eyes open. This is going to be a long, long day.


Later that same day...................

The caffeine, thank heavens, finally kicked in about 11:30 and I've been cruising along ever since. Of course, while telling someone about our experiences last night, the lady that sits in the cubicle behind me had to pipe up with "What do you let him watch that would give him nightmares like that?????" Since the only channels we watch while he's awake, when we have the tv on, are the Disney channel and the Food Network, I was understandably offended by this remark. I quickly responded to her (sarcastically, of course) " Well Friday the 13th part 107 was on last night... you don't think that was okay for him to watch?" She gave me a puzzled 'deer in the headlights' look and went back to work. God help me... keep me safe from the idiots, for there sake, not mine. I know many of you have not met me personally, but do I come across as the kind of person that would knowingly let their child watch bad things? Maybe it's because I'm stunned so often by people's stupidity that I'm rendered speechless, and end up giving a look that says 'You're kidding me, right?' They must misinterpret this and think I have a low IQ.

But the work week is over, and the weekend is upon us, hip-hip-hooray. I've checked the new Patricia Cornwell out of the library (since I didn't receive it for Christmas... not that I'm holding a grudge about that...) and K has promised me a Saturday morning of solitude to do with what I please. I don't think I can convey in words how giddy I am about this. Hopefully your weekends will be just as good...

I seem to have accomplished what could only be called a miracle in our house these days. I'm home today with the little one. I'm also off Monday to be home with him (long story short - no other childcare, husband losing job in 1 1/2 weeks so not looking for daycare, in-laws in Florida otherwise they would probably have the boy), and that of course means I'm contemplating calling off tomorrow and making this a nice, long weekend. We'll see.

What miracle, you ask? I hope to heavens I don't jinx myself for saying this, but I've gotten the boy to go down for a nap. This is a rare occurence in our house. He used to take naps every day, and usually they were good 2-3 hour naps that meant Mommy or Daddy could really have a break. But for the last 2 months or so, he hasn't been inclined towards the afternoon siesta. I took my chances today to see what would happen... it's been an hour, and there's been barely a peep. I just don't think I can get across to you in words how exciting this is for me.

It feels as if it's been such a long week. The woman that sits in the cubicle behind me has finally purchased another car, although I'm waiting for disaster on that front because she bought the car of another woman that works with us. Past experience has taught me that transactions such as this usually turn out badly.

Production at the vile manufacturing plant where K will work for another 1 1/2 weeks has stopped. They're spending these last days breaking down the machinery and such. I think the finality of this is finally starting to hit him. We could have some rough days ahead.

I have spent my hour of solitude (slowly but sure stretching now to an hour and a 1/2) browsing the iTunes website. I'm hoping to soon add some new tunes to the iPod, possibly including but not limited to... Ryan Adams, Blink 182, Foo Fighters, Aretha Franklin, Ani DiFranco, Janis Joplin, Liz Phair... I could go on and on and on and on and on..............

Holy neds… the woman that sits in the cubicle behind me is luring others around us to listening to the local conservative talk radio station during the day… the line-up for this local station? Neal Boortz, Rush Limbaugh, Sean Hannity, Clark Howard (actually he’s not too bad, not political but give financial information, etc – I’ve gotten some good financial advice from him), Michael Savage, and Coast to Coast in the wee am hours. We aren’t supposed to listen to internet radio streams on our systems, so they’ve all gone out and gotten small radios to sit on their desks for this. I feel as if I’m being surrounded by an angry mob, and I’m waiting for them to throw their net over me and try to pull me in. This is more than a little frightening…

Friday Grab Bag

From the news...

I, for one, will rest easier now...

am I the only one that remembers the episode of "CHiPs" that he was on? (and by the way, can we say mom's in denial???)

and here I've been worried about meteors

Senator McCarthy reincarnated?

What bothers me is not that he would sell it, but that someone would actually pay money for it




And some useless triva...

Clint Eastwood wrote the musical scores for his films The Bridges of Madison County, Mystic River, Absolute Power, and Million Dollar Baby

On average, 9,000 earthquakes take place worldwide every day

Bulls are color-blind

Wild rice is the official grain of the state of Minnesota

Dolphins sleep with one eye open

Tug of War was an olympic sport until 1920

Friday again. The days and weeks and months just seem to meld together. Quite often I find myself having to stop and think for a few seconds to remember what day it is. Or I'm searching for my car keys when I've already been outside and started the car to warm up and defrost before I leave for work. Friends with children call it 'Mommy brain'. I don't like it. I've never been (I don't think, others may disagree) a scatter-brained type of person... and I don't want to be now, although I don't seem to have any control over it.

I've been passed over for the 2 positions in other departments that I applied and interviewed for at the house of insurance. Both times I made it to the final round of interviews, and both times it was the same song and dance when I got the bad news... "You have all of the qualifications we're looking for, you're a strong candidate, it was a hard decision, if we had 2 positions open you'd definitely get one of them" blah, blah, blah. How irritating. Don't try to placate me. Just rip the bandage off and give me the bad news, and we can both be on our way. So I'm stuck with the Sultan of Stupid (my new nickname for the boss-man) for the forseeable future. God help me. The woman that sits in the cubicle behind me has been looking for a new car this week, because the transmission on her car went out. Is the world coming to an end? If you ask her, she'd say yes...

K has just 2 weeks of work left before the vile manufacturing plant shuts down. He's excited... about not having to work at the job any longer (can't blame him for that), about going back to school, all of it. He'll get unemployment while he's in school, but it will be tight financially. I try not to think about it because it makes me nauseous. I'm all for selling the house and moving into an apartment until he's through school and into another job, but he won't go for it.

That's all for now... I promise more interesting and exciting things later, on topics that may include but are not limited to............ adoption.............. the movie 'Sideways' ................ the book The Kid by Dan Savage ............. and possibly some useless trivia................

Just surfing the net today...

... and ran across a few things I might like to have...

for my desk at work, since my job makes me feel like I'm in hell

to soothe the savage beast in me that's been rearing its ugly head lately

diamonds are a girl's best friend, after all

it's always important to smell good (this stuff is incredible, if you ask me...)

and important to have something good to read...

and something good to eat...

10 songs I like to listen to while on the treadmill (in no particular order)

I enjoy listening to all different kinds of music. I know everyone says that, but for me it's really true. On my iPod you will find everything from Sting, to La Boehme, to Dave Matthews (of course!), to Nina Simone, to Missy Elliot, to Bruce Springsteen, to Yo Yo Ma, to the Fired Up! 2 dance mix cd's I ordered from a television add (is that sad?). My workout music needs to be kicky. It needs to have a beat that inspires me to move and sweat. So for anyone who might be interested, these are the songs I find myself listening to most often when I actually get a chance to hop on the treadmill and go for a walk:

1) It's Raining Men (The Weather Girls)
2) Turn the Beat Around (Gloria Estefan)
3) Bbizarre Love Triangle (New Order)
4) Woman Trouble (Artful Dodger)
(3 & 4 - love, love, love the British music...)
5) I Will Survive (possibly the best song of the disco era) (Gloria Gayner )
6) Heatwave (Martha and the Vandellas)
7) Like a Prayer (you always have to have some Madonna) (Madonna)
8) Groove is in the Heart (Dee-Lite)
9) Miss Independent (Hani Radio Edit) (Kelly Clarkson)
(never thought I'd have a Kelly Clarkson song on any list I made, but there you have it)
10) I Like it (Like That) (radio edit) (The Blackout Allstars)

And an extra for good measure..........................

11) Got to be Real (Cheryl Lynn)

Alright, damnit. Let's try this one more time, so at least I can have something new up this week. It's not entirely my fault. We had computer issues at the homestead for 4 or 5 days because the new satellite hook-up (my father-in-law's idea) was interfering with the internet connection. I've started 6 or 7 different posts this week, deleted most of them, have one left sitting as a draft. Why can't I seem to finish anything this week? As I said in a comment on another blog, I've spent most of my time at work this week on the internet (as I am now!) trying to at least look busy so my micro-managing supervisor doesn't catch on. Oh my God. Serenity now, serenity now, serenity now...

I've had all I can take of those around me here in insurance-land (the woman in the cubicle behind me is singing as we speak, and it's only 6:45 in the morning). In about an hour I've got my final interview for a position in another department that would bring more $$, better hours, and the possibility of working from home from time to time. Wish me luck.

I've also started my first book of the new year, the year that Ruth starts to read again! Dan Savage is a regular contributor on This American Life, a weekly program on NPR that I absolutely love. His book The Kid tells the story of how he and his boyfriend decided to have a baby, contemplated asking one of several female friends to carry a baby for them, and finally ended up adopting a little boy. It's open and honest, and giving me a perspective on this topic that, as a straight white girl, I'd never get otherwise. And it's hilarious. I'm only about 1/3 of the way through, but I'd highly recommend it to anyone. Next up on the list is Where I Was From by Joan Didion. No particular order to how I'm reading these - just at the mercy of the library and how quickly they can get them to me. I would love nothing more than to head to the local Barnes & Noble and purchase every book I've put on my reading list for this year, but unfortunately finances do not allow that.

So there you have it. At least I've posted something for this week; accomplished one thing, however small it might be.

To the woman that sits in the cubicle behind me...

If you're waiting for me to apologize for the words that were exchanged between us yesterday, don't hold your breath. In the interest of not losing my job, I've kept my mouth shut since then, though there are many things I still wish to say...

To begin... quite frankly, fuck you. There are much GREATER tragedies occurring in the world AS WE SPEAK than me not crossing my name off the birthday card routing sheet before I passed it on to you. That, when you pointed out my oversight to me and I jokingly said 'It's not like I don't have 500 other things on my mind', you came back at me with a list of your current life-problems and ended with 'Can you top that list?' offended me greatly. Can I top your list? Well let me try...

Your partner is sick right now? I have the joy of jamming a needle full of insulin into my stomach every evening, because my doctor and I can't figure out yet why we can't get my blood sugar under control. I'm trying to eat right, and exercising again, and still taking my handfuls of the oral drugs for controlling diabetes, but they're just not working for some reason.

Your truck broke down and you need $300 for a new starter? K and I dropped 10 TIMES THAT MUCH into his car last year, and now we've got a credit card bill that we're trying to get paid off before he LOSES HIS JOB a month from now.

Your mom is having knee replacement surgery next week? Be thankful that your parents are still alive and that you can be there to help them through these times, and that they're willing and able to loan you the $300 for your truck repair, because BOTH OF MY PARENTS ARE DEAD and I wouldn't even dream of asking my in-laws for a loan.

On top of all that, K is hacking through a forest of red tape right now, and having one door after another slammed in his face, to get the degree program of his choice approved by the TAA representative at the county Job Center office, so that he can go back to school instead of having to take another dead-end factory job.

Your life isn't falling apart more than anyone else's, and your problems are any more or less worse than anyone else's... they're just different. So get over it.

I stole this from Maidink, whose blog I found while visiting at the Rowhouse. Being a HUGE Dave Matthews fan, I ABSOLUTELY COULD NOT pass this up!!!

Here are the rules to this meme: Choose one of your favorite bands/artist and then answer all the questions using SONG TITLES from the BAND or ARTIST you chose. Sound simple? Right, thought so.

Band/Artist: Dave Matthews Band

1. Are you male or female? American Baby

2. Describe yourself: Butterfly

3. How do some people feel about you? What Are You?

4. How do you feel about yourself? What Will Become of Me?

5. Describe current relationship with BF/GF: Sweet Up and Down

6. Describe where you want to be: Angel

7. Describe how you live: Typical Situation

8. Describe how you love: Joyride

9. What would you ask for if you had just one wish? One Sweet World

10. Share a few words of wisdom: Get in Line

11. Now say goodbye: Ain't it Funny How Time Slips Away

And I've recently been directed to quite an AWESOME website WDMB ALL DAVE, ALL THE TIME!!!! Makes getting through the day at work a little easier!! Enjoy!

For those that might be keeping score...

I won't even talk about the taking care of myself thing... after all, Sunday was the holiday and Monday I was off work for the holiday since the office is closed on Sunday. And Tuesday was card night for the hubby, father-in-law and brother-in-law which meant there were snacks in the house (I tell you, those tins of butter cookies that come out at holiday time are the work of the devil!). Today has been better (so far) and I've been assured that I will be given as much time as I'd like to walk on the treadmill when I get home.

I've got quite a list of books and/or authors I want to read this year, which I will be posting shortly because I'm sure you're all on the edge of your seats wanting to know what I'll be spending my time with.

I'm still looking for fresh herbs to pot, and fear I may have to wait until Spring for those, BUT below is the first new recipe I plan to try. Giada De Laurentiis made this on 'Everyday Italian' on Monday - love that show but will never understand how someone can be that happy all the time. This is planned for dinner on Saturday. I'm still looking into some side dishes... I'm intrigued by the recipe for penne with spinach sauce that she made along with this.

Garlic and Citrus Chicken
1 (5 to 6-pound) whole roasting chicken, neck and giblets discarded
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 orange, quartered
1 lemon, quartered
1 head garlic, halved crosswise, plus 3 garlic cloves, chopped
2 (14-ounce) cans reduced-sodium chicken broth
1/4 cup frozen orange juice concentrate, thawed
1/4 cup fresh lemon juice
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 tablespoon chopped fresh oregano leaves
Kitchen string or butcher twine

Position the rack in the center of the oven and preheat to 400 degrees F.
Pat the chicken dry and sprinkle the cavity with salt and pepper. Stuff the cavity with the orange, lemon, and garlic halves. Tie the chicken legs together with kitchen string to help hold its shape. Sprinkle the chicken with salt and pepper.
Place a rack in a large roasting pan. Place the chicken, breast side up, on the rack in the pan. Roast the chicken for 1 hour, basting occasionally and adding some chicken broth to the pan, if necessary, to prevent the pan drippings from burning. Whisk the orange juice, lemon juice, oil, oregano, and chopped garlic in a medium bowl to blend. Brush some of the juice mixture over the chicken, after it has baked 1 hour. Continue roasting the chicken until an instant-read meat thermometer inserted into the innermost part of the thigh registers 170 degrees F, basting occasionally with the juice mixture and adding broth to the pan, about 45 minutes longer. Transfer the chicken to a platter. Tent with foil while making the sauce (do not clean the pan).
Place the same roasting pan over medium-low heat. Whisk in any remaining broth and simmer until the sauce is reduced to 1 cup, stirring often, about 3 minutes. Strain into a 2-cup glass measuring cup and discard the solids. Spoon the fat from the top of the sauce. Serve the chicken with the pan sauce.

Be it resolved...

I don't think that anyone in my office is actually doing any work today. On top of that, we're all waiting for our supervisor to send out his usual pre-holiday last- minute- excuse- for- why- I -have- to- leave- for- the- day email. Like he's really fooling anyone. How coincindental that these things always come up either on days when we're getting bad weather and the roads are awful, or the day before a holiday. But whatever.

The problem with the timing of W.T.'s birth is that I went out on maternity leave a week before Christmas in 2003, and was off until mid-February 2004. I was off work during the entire holiday season that year and LOVED it. It spoiled me. Not being able to take extra time off at the holidays (because let's face it, my vacation days are LONG gone by the end of the year!) has added to my normal holiday grumpiness these last 2 years. Thus my inability to concentrate on my work today. Boredom with my job is contributing to this, also, but that's another post.

So I am sitting here today, trying to look busy but really contemplating the upcoming new year, and of course along with that comes the new year's resolutions. I've never been too hip on the resolutions. I, like everyone else, has made the commitment to lose weight, exercise, etc at the beginning of the year and have never followed through, which inevitably leads to guilt over the fact that I have once again failed, blah, blah, blah. You get my drift. This year, I'm setting my sights on what hopefully are some more realistic things...

1) I will do my best to be more thankful for what I have, rather than being upset about what I want but don't have. I will choose to have a more positive attitude about and outlook on things.

2) I will take care of myself, because I'm worth taking care of. I will (most of the time) be more careful about what I eat. I will make time for myself because I'm worth making time for.

3) I will stop blaming my husband for the things in my life that I'm not satisfied with.

4) I will look up recipes for the wonderful dishes I see being made on the Food Network and try one new dish each month. I will plant herbs in pots and put them on my kitchen windowsill so that I have fresh herbs for these spectacular dishes.

5) I will make time to read again. Before W.T. came along, I read voraciously. I consumed books from the library, and our shelves at home were stuffed to overflowing with fiction and non-fiction alike. Since W.T. came along, there just hasn't been the time... or the inclination. By the end of the day, I am so tired both mentally and physically that opening a book is the last thing I want to do. At the same time, though, I miss it desperately and often long to have a free hour, or even 1/2 hour, to just sit and lose myself in a book.

6) I will turn on the television less, and turn on the radio more, and dance with W.T. in the living room, and enjoy my son before he gets to an age where he doesn't want to be around mommy any longer.

7) I will, in a nutshell, do my best to enjoy my life more, because really it's not a bad life when you really look at it.

Wish me luck...

Another Christmas come and gone. And I've decided that I truly am the most ungrateful person walking on the Earth right now. But, in my defense...

Each year for K's side of the family, we are required to create and exchange Christmas 'wish lists' of things we'd like to receive as gifts. EVERYONE must make a list. And if you buy something from someone's list that they would only want ONE of, you must notify everyone else IMMEDIATELY so that there's no duplication of gifts. You'd think we were coordinating a NASA lift-off each December.

So K and I agonize over our lists, and W's, because we have to turn in one for him also. Not too much, not too little. Not too expensive, not too cheap. Easily accessible. We've done this since the first Christmas that K and I were together. Almost 10 years.

And I kid you not, we have YET to get ANYTHING that we've EVER put on a list. Some years, the gifts have come close (take, for instance, Christmas 2004 when I asked for 'Finding Nemo' on DVD but got 'Shrek 2'... both animated DVD's, so at least we were in the ballpark...), but it's never been exact.

I have to say, I think this year was the worst, though. And this is what makes me feel ungrateful. Because I will be honest... the St Vincent DePaul society will be at our house early Friday morning to collect items we want to donate, and more than one of these things we got Sunday will be in the box we set out for them...

So, on my list this year I asked for...

*the Dave Matthews Band 'Weekend on the Rocks' 2cd/1dvd box set (at Walmart for $18.99)
*Patricia Cornwell's latest in the Kay Scarpetta series, Predator. Or a gift certificate to a bookstore (let me digress for a moment, because I feel it's important to point out that MY BROTHER-IN-LAW WORKS FOR BARNES & NOBLE)
*a gift certificate for Bath & Body Works (because you an never have too much smelly stuff for the shower)
*a coffee grinder (to use to grind spices, as I am not a coffee drinker)
*a subscription to either 'Southern Living' or 'Martha Stewart Living' magazine (I love the recipes)

... and I got

*a watch - I've already got 3 that I don't wear, and as I was opening it I saw my sister-in-law pull the Patricia Cornwell from a gift bag
*slippers that vibrate (yes, vibrate), that don't fit
*a tub of 'body butter' that smells like the air freshener in a gas station restroom

Obviously, I set my expectations too high. Next year I'm going to ask for 'Dorf on Fishing' and see what it gets me...

From our house to yours...

Peace and joy to you and your family during the holiday season and into the new year!

Found this on a site that a fellow blogger/friend mentioned in one of her recent posts. Has this man been peeping through my bedroom window for the last few years???

MESSAGE TO
sadge

If it weren’t so maddening it would be laughable. It is in fact absolutely, ridiculously ironic that so many people thnk you are at the strongest most powerful point of your whole life, and that you have it all totally together, when they have no idea how close to the edge you have been over the last few years. Personal, financial, even physical issues have worn you down nearly to a nub and have all but extinguished the life you were living ten years ago. So, if you are slightly unavailable these days, and if you seem now and then to be exploding a few kiltons of primitive rage, well, pardon your Pluto, but until someone experiences a transit of Pluto through their sign, they have no idea of what it’s like. It’s odd, too, the more you withdraw and withhold, the more appealing you are, and that’s got to speak volumes about what people find attractive in others. Now, with Mars going forward in your solar sixth house, working to stay healthy and working to earn money are the major tasks to renew your energy. Projects you may have begun last summer may start to percolate again Will, in fact, begin to cook big time and it is this sort of disciplined energy that will ignite you mentally and emotionally. You will be dealing with a very gung-ho guy at the job site who will light a fire under you and get you to produce.

Wow....................................

I have not posted in a while, quite frankly, because I have nothing good to say. My mood has been black and foul, and there aren't prospects that it will get better any time soon.

I have ZERO Christmas spirit this year. None at all. Zilch. Zip. Nada. It could possibly even be a negative number if there was a scoring chart for something like this. I just don't have the energy for it this year. We have no decorations up. No tree, no wreath on the door, no stockings hung with care. I've thrown away most of the cards we've gotten after looking at them, and haven't sent out a single one. I think K is very disappointed by all this. I know he wanted a tree up for W.T. (although at 2 W.T. is not going to remember it, so what's the big deal?), but I don't see him taking the initiative to get the boxes down from above the cabinets in the garage and re-arranging things in the living room to accomplish all this. I almost said this to him the other day when all this came up, but kept my mouth shut instead. Choose your battles.

I am spiteful and bitter this year. Christmas is about family, but I have none... at least that's the way it feels. Both of my parents are gone now, and my brother might as well be. I've had two 10-minute conversations with him since my dad died back in May. He didn't come up while my dad was in the hospital. He didn't help plan the memorial service (but made himself look very good by giving a little speech during it about what all he'd learned from my dad... yeah, right). He didn't come up in August when we buried my dad's ashes on a very rainy Saturday morning. It was just me and K and the man from cemetery office, holding umbrellas and watching the groundsman do their job. He didn't call on my birthday last month, either, or send a card. And of course I can't help but wonder if it's something that I've done that has made him this way; made him shut me out. And yes, I've asked, and practically pleaded in emails, and apologized when there's nothing to apologize for... and he's acknowledged none of it.

I've done the Christmas shopping and gotten the presents for my in-laws, not because I have the desire to give them presents but because this is what's expected. And I'll go to my father-in-laws house on Christmas day and eat and open presents and put on a good show, when I'd really rather be at home watching QVC. But I really just don't see the point of it all, at least not this year, because the holidays are about spending time with your family, but if you don't really have any family then why bother? Now I know, I know... I have my son and my husband, and my in-laws (God help me), and close friends that are very much like family... but it's just not the same. It's not the same as the family that you grew up with... the family that all of your history comes from. Or at least it doesn't feel the same. It feels lonely and isolated. I feel like I've been slapped in the face one too many times. I feel like I'm the last man standing.

Right now this feels like a hurt that I'll never get over, and I don't like that. I don't like feeling so bitter and beaten-down by life at such a young age. But what do you do? When does the sting go away? Maybe someone could take a look in their Magic 8 ball for me and let me know...

You'll only feel a little prick...

Well smack my ass and call me Judy...

Having the type II (non-insulin dependent) Diabetes requires that I see my doctor every three months to have blood drawn. They check the fasting blood sugar (reading first thing in the morning before you've eaten anything) and the hA1C (a kind-of 3 month average of what your blood sugar level has been) among other things like cholesterol and all that. I hate this. I hate waiting to talk to the doctor so he can write up a slip to give to the lab tech so I can a little longer for her to draw my blood. I hate that they always have to draw the blood from the back of my hand instead of my arm, because the veins in my arms always roll when they try to get the needle in. And I hate the inevitable phone call from the doctor's office to schedule an appointment for me to discuss the results with the doctor. I've done this for 3 years now. I should be used to it. But it still irritates me.

I found out I was diabetic about 9 months or so before I got pregnant. When you're diabetic and you're pregnant, you're high risk right out of the gate. For me, this meant 2-3 times the number of normal doctor's appointments, checking my blood sugar 4-times everyday, giving myself an insulin injection ever evening, watching zealously everything that I ate, calling my doctor's office twice each week to report my blood sugar readings, and on and on and on. By the last 5 weeks or so of my pregnancy, I was going to the doctor - no joke - twice a week. It was EXHAUSTING.

Once he was born, I couldn't help but thing 'Oh heavenly day!! I can eat without worrying about what it's doing to the little creature growing inside me!!' and I went a little nuts (I'm even craving a Kit-Kat as I sit writing this...). I thought I'd give myself a month or two of a little freedom, because I'd earned it, hadn't I? K would get on me about being too hard on myself and worrying too much about what my readings were. I love him with all my heart, but he'll never understand the feeling of being completely, utterly responsible for a living being that's growing inside of you. And knowing that if this baby is born with problems because you didn't keep yourself in check, that it's your fault. I have enough guilt... I should be Catholic I have so much guilt... I don't need anymore. Of course, then, a month or two turned into 6, which turned into 12, and now here we are almost 2 years later. And the end result of my month or two of freedom is that the results of last week's bloodwork were SO bad that the doctor has put me back on a daily insulin shot until it's under control.

I was livid when I left the doctor's office.

I don't care what anyone says, it fucking hurts to stick YOURSELF with a needle, no matter how big or small it is.

At least I got a cool, new, state-of-the-art injection 'pen' to use instead of having to measure the insulin into syringes and tap out the air-bubbles like I did while pregnant. But I won't even go into what I had to go through to get the prescription filled (trips to 3 different pharmacies plus a return phone call AND visit to the doctor's office).

Of course, K says it will all be okay... as he cringes while watching me give myself the injection in my stomach.

I have no one but myself to blame for all this... and that only makes it worse. But K says he's going to 'get healthy' with me this time. We'll see. Back to scouring the cookbooks for healthy recipes that don't take too much effort and that he'll eat. Back to the treadmill in the corner of the living room, unless I want to dance along to the Wiggles with W.T.

Serenity now... serenity now... serenity now...

Well, the inevitable has come to pass. The manufacturing plant my husband works at announced officially today that they'll be closing the plant on February 3 of next year. We knew this was coming, and we've talked about and planned for it quite a bit... but it still gives me a little bit of a sick feeling to know that for the next two years, until he's out of school, we'll essentially be down to one income. It scares me because, when things happen to us, they happen in a big way. It's never a $50 or $75 car repair, it's always a $500 or more car repair. Or replacing the furnace because a piece came loose and almost set the duct work in the house on fire. Or whatever. I feel like I haven't had a decent night's sleep since my son was born almost 2 years ago, and this certainly isn't helping.

And then comes the never-ending mantra from my husband of 'Everything's going to be okay. We'll get through this.' For God's sake, just hit the 'play' button on the tape recorder and save yourself the energy of having to repeat this again. This is the best you've got for me? You can't come up with anything new to say?

When I was just out of college and working my first real job, tax return time would roll around and I'd dream about just cashing that big ($500 to a 22 year old is big, anyways) check, getting in my car and just driving away. Now it would be clearing out the checking account and taking a big cash advance on the credit card, but the dream is essentially the same. Why? Because I'm tired of okay. I'm tired of getting through. All we've done since we got married is get through. We've had almost 8 years of the 'worse'. I am MORE than ready for some of the 'better'. And I know all of this isn't his fault... but it's very easy to lay the blame on him because all of these things started happening after we met. Things were, or at least seemed, fine before that. Maybe not great, maybe not spectacular, but things certainly didn't seem crappy like they do now.

And here I thought a few days ago that I was content with all of this... silly me.

Yesterday, overall, was a good day. I've been battling some sort of digestive tract bug, so K. let me laze around the house until we went to his dad's for the family dinner at 3pm. I think K. was a little disappointed, because his dad made pork roast instead of turkey, but I've got a turkey breast I'm going to throw in the crockpot tomorrow so all should be fine.

My mother-in-law threw me for a loop yesterday. We were sitting on the couch, and she asked me what I'd like for Christmas. Why would this throw me, you ask? Well, K's dad had already said he'd give us cash to pay for 1/2 a year of the Dish Network, something that K has been drooling for for about a year now. That was fine with me, since most years they ask what we'd like and we tell them and we still end up getting something completely off the wall. At least the Dish Network with the DVR that records up to 100 hours of programming (no more missing House or Lost because I'm too lazy to set the VCR or can't find the remote!) is something I know we'll use. But she said this gift was from her, not her and my father-in-law, and she wanted it to be something for me.

I was absolutely at a loss. I thought and thought... we could use some new towels, some new skillets, a new standing lamp for the living room. No, it had to be something for me, not for the house. Not something practical. Just something I'd been wanting but hadn't gotten. I finally managed to come up with the new Patricia Cornwell novel, and agreed to a few other suggestions she threw out. I have to say, it was a little embarrassing and I think she was getting somewhat annoyed with me at one point.

I was telling K about it on the way home later, when the thought struck me... am I content, finally, with what I have (gasp!)? Has a sense of satisfaction about my life snuck up and overtaken me without my knowledge? How could that be? How could that happen without me realizing what was happening? I glanced back at W.T. sleeping in the back seat, his head slumped forward, totally relaxed. K. reached in the dark and put his hand on my leg... I reached down and curled my fingers into his and wondered how it was ever possible not to feel contented with all this.