“How fragile we are, between the few good moments.” ~ Jane Hirshfield, from “Vinegar and Oil”
Saturday, early evening. Showers and much cooler temperatures.
So . . . long time no real post. One week, actually. So what’s new with you?
I did manage to post the really big news in my life this past week, which is that my computer is back home, new motherboard and graphics card installed, and it did not cost me a fortune as I did not take it back to the geek squad or whatever they are called at Best Buy. Instead, I took it in to a local computer repair place, and the guy there was wonderful and more than reasonable. I will be taking all future problems to his store, for certain.
The other big news is that I’ve spent just about every day with Alexis and Olivia, much to the chagrin of my boys at home—all of them—and the sole other female in the abode, Tillie the Lab. As a result, I’m feeling tugged in a million different directions at once. I want to help Alexis get adjusted, and I want to spend these early days with Olivia, but I am also missing being at home and having some semblance of a routine.
Then, to make everything a thousand times more complicated, Corey got a departure date: this coming Wednesday. I am more than a little discombobulated.
“ . . . there is luxury in being quiet in the heart of chaos.” ~ Virginia Woolf, from a diary entry dated 23 June 1927
I simply cannot fathom that he will be leaving for three months again in just a few short days. We haven’t even gone on a date since he’s been home as the baby’s arrival threw everything out of kilter, and he’s been spending his days trying to tame the wilderness that is our backyard. Now he’s scheduled to leave, and I feel as if we haven’t spent any time together.
My middle name is guilt.
I wonder how I balanced all things when I was working full time. Was everyone so needy then? I’ve been coming home from spending time at Lex’s apartment, and then I do dishes and laundry here and try not to let myself just fall on the bed in a sweaty, exhausted pile of nothingness. The weather certainly hasn’t helped with heat index temperatures above 100 degrees and 150 percent humidity (at least that’s how it feels).
I feel as though even the Beta (Capt. Jack Harkness) is giving me the evil eye for neglecting him. Is it possible to spoil a pet fish?
“It’s odd how the objects of our lives
Continue to not define us,
no matter how close we hold them unto us.
Odd how the narrative of those lives is someone else’s narrative.” ~ Charles Wright, from “Bees Are the Terrace Builders of the Stars”
So all of the big plans to see movies together, to eat sushi, and everything else . . . these things now have to be crammed into a few days.
Of course, I also need to spend time scanning and printing photographs of the baby as my mother is demanding pictures to send to relatives. Pictures need to be inserted into thank you notes. The computer’s hard drive needs major cleaning as I made duplicate backups of my files when it seemed that everything would be lost, and consequently, I have way to0 much duplicate data.
I need to go through two weeks of unopened mail, because, well, no one else has done it, and a million other things that are demanding my attention. At least the OB cleared Alexis to drive at yesterday’s appointment, not that that means much as she is still quite uncertain of herself and her ability to do thing with the baby by herself.
I know that my daughter is not a clone of myself, nor do I expect her to be, but I think back on when I gave birth the first time, and how alone I was in everything. My ex went back to work immediately, did not take a day off work, and there I was in our townhouse in Alexandria trying to learn how to be a mother for the first time. Daunting, but nothing that millions upon millions of women haven’t been doing for millennia. Still, I found then and subsequently that motherhood came quite naturally to me. I was fortunate in that, I know.
I guess I am aware of her mental and emotional fragility and want to ease the transition as much as possible.
“The edge is what I have.” ~ Theodore Roethke
Still, I find myself torn and divided and feeling as if there is no time to do the things that I want to do, like write my posts, or reacquaint myself with this wonderful machine with the huge monitor, sort out my desk, clear off my nightstand. I feel as if everything that I want to do for myself has been placed on that proverbial back burner until everyone else is taken care of, in as much as possible.
For instance: Eamonn is on a new tear about wanting a double bed; consequently, I need to be on the lookout NOW for good buys on mattresses. The dogs’ nails need to be clipped, and Alfie the Insane has developed another bump on his face underneath his left eye. Brett has been nagging both Corey and me to address the Internet issues plaguing our home network (as in it is painfully slow), and his fall semester is coming up, and we still haven’t found the funds to pay for the two summer school classes that he has taken. Corey’s unemployment still hasn’t kicked in for the time that he’s been home, and his phone, which he dropped into water, is not working and needs to be fixed before he leaves. Not to mention that neither I nor Brett have had our eye appointments yet. I need to make an appointment to have the new tires put on the Rodeo so that I can get the damned thing inspected before I get a ticket. and I need to stop by the local urgent care to get my TDAP shot, which I promised Lex I would get . . .
. . . and on and on and on . . .
And in between I try to keep myself bathed and try to remember to take my own medication, even as in the back of my mind I have the Social Security Administration’s form to complete, which should have been done months ago, and my disability provider leaving messages on my phone.
Have I brushed my teeth today?
“I want to tear myself from this place, from this reality, rise up like a cloud and float away, melt into this humid summer night and dissolve somewhere far, over the hills. But I am here, my legs blocks of concrete, my lungs empty of air, my throat burning. There will be no floating away.” ~ Khaled Hosseini, from The Kite Runner
Bitch, bitch, bitch . . . moan, moan, moan.
Truthfully, though, there has never been anything in my life coming close to a happy medium. It has always been feast or famine. But currently? I am at a loss as to how I should even begin to approach this Everest.
Breathe deeply, realize that there is not enough air, try again.
I know that this post is colored in large part by the migraine with which I awoke early this morning, the residual effects of which are still creeping about my eyes. I’ve had a headache every day for the last two and a half weeks, mostly because of the heat, but it morphed into a full-blown, brutal migraine finally, and I was reluctant to wake Corey to help me as he has not been able to get to sleep for four nights in a row.
Everyone is stressed, not just me. I know that, but the environs resemble a pressure cooker about to blow, and I really want to avoid that at any cost. Unfortunately, my OCD which came back with a vengeance a few months ago will not allow me to let even one thing go, let one thing slide until later.
“I want to be with those who know secret things or else alone.” ~ Rainer Maria Rilke, from A Book for the Hours of Prayer (trans. Robert Bly)
Sorry my first real post in a week is nothing but line after line of whinging. Allow me to switch tacks for a moment . . . good things:
- Olivia is an adorable baby with a very calm demeanor. There are moments in which her facial expressions so keenly resemble her mother’s when she was a baby that I am lost in time.
- My BOSE computer speakers are connected, allowing me to enjoy streaming music.
- My new Logitech mouse that Brett got me for Christmas is very cool, a vast improvement over what I have been using, exactly what I’ve been wanting.
- We’ve gotten a break in the sweltering temperatures and agonizing humidity.
- I stumbled upon a new blog that features really great photographs.
- I can open Photoshop on this computer without everything locking up.
- I can finally get back to visiting my blog community on a more regular basis.
- I no longer have to listen to Eamonn complain that I’m invading his space by using the computer in his room.
- I am getting familiar with my new workspace, and I’m fairly certain that I can make this work comfortably.
- I can tell my mother that I’m feeding/changing/rocking the baby and end telephone conversations much more quickly . . .
So, enough for now. Hope to be back to regular posting.
More later. Peace.
*All images are taken from Irargerich’s photosets on Flickr (creative commons)
Music by Gotye, “Hearts a Mess”
Now we will count to twelve
and we will all keep still
for once on the face of the earth,
let’s not speak in any language;
let’s stop for a second,
and not move our arms so much.
It would be an exotic moment
without rush, without engines;
we would all be together
in a sudden strangeness.
Fishermen in the cold sea
would not harm whales
and the man gathering salt
would not look at his hurt hands.
Those who prepare green wars,
wars with gas, wars with fire,
victories with no survivors,
would put on clean clothes
and walk about with their brothers
in the shade, doing nothing.
What I want should not be confused
with total inactivity.
Life is what it is about…
If we were not so single-minded
about keeping our lives moving,
and for once could do nothing,
perhaps a huge silence
might interrupt this sadness
of never understanding ourselves
and of threatening ourselves with
Now I’ll count up to twelve
and you keep quiet and I will go.
~ Pablo Neruda