Month: December 2005

  • Happy Birthday Baby



    Nine years ago today, Tucker was born.  Snow rose outside to a depth greater than anyone could recall in living memory.  (My dad was shoveling DOWN to the mailbox everyday).  The temperature dipped lower and lower.  And in the midst of that, Tucker was born. 


    My parents had been with us for a month waiting for his arrival.  I brought him home from the hospital on Wednesday, and they left on Saturday.  Tim's job took him out of town on Sunday, and I was alone with a newborn and a toddler.  I was lucky though.  I had wonderful friends in those days.  Friends who called me, checked on me, came by and brought dinner, and took the babies for an occasional hour so I could sleep or even more exciting, take a shower.


    And Tucker grew, he grew and he grew and he grew in laughter.  Until he became the kid he is today.  Full of joy and curiosity with a pinch of devilment.  Today he's nine and wants the due of a big boy.  But I remember him when he was brandnew. 


    I love you, Baby.

  • Merry Christmas

  • Hope Hope Hope


    I put in a bid last week on a ghostwriting project.  I'd be writing short stories and then organizing information for a book that outlines basic financial information and advice.  I heard back this morning that I'm one of several writers being considered for the project.  It would be a "second" job for me, and it would help tremendously to get this.  Both from a financial standpoint and also to build my writing resume to something stronger than it has been.


    Plus, this is a project that I'm excited about on it's own merit. 

  • Angels Again


    It happened again last night and I don't know what to say.  I was sitting in my chair and there was a loud knock on the door.  When I opened it, two large boxes of food for Christmas feasting sat wiating.  I knew I was faster to the door than last time and I thought I'd see if I could "catch" the angels so I raced up the steps and opened the door. 


    I had worked out in my mind who I thought it might be, but I was wrong.  I didn't know this family at all.  And I didn't know what to say.  They were dashing back into their truck with delighted laughter.  Their son (who seems to be about the age of Michael) saw me wave.  And then they were off without me saying anything.  I didn't say  "thank you" - or even  "how did you know?"  Just a glimpse and then they were off.  (And I wasn't wearing my glasses so the sad truth is that I wouldn't recognize them if I saw them again.)


    This weekend was stressful for me.  I had to take money from my savings (again) to pay bills.  I know that I'm working now and eventually I'll be paid and this will start sending the trend in the other direction, but for now I can't seem to get over the pain of seeing the savings I worked so hard for dwindling so rapidly.  I have to make a call this morning to the Unemployment office because I didn't receive a check last week.  It's only $71 - and to be honest, even if I'd gotten it I would have had to make the withdrawal because my electric bill alone was over $100.  But $71 would have helped if I'd had it.  And that thought spun around in my head enough to keep me from sleeping well.


    I also have to call the school, and maybe my attorney.  There is a situation there where a group session Michael attends with other kids in need of socialization help has turned ugly.  Apparently the group has become a place where the older kids are decribing for the younger ones things that they have seen on pornographic websites.  I'm not going to write it out here, but I'll tell you that the questions my child is asking me have me shocked and dismayed.  I want the boys to grow up with respect for themselves and respect for others.  The things my son is hearing now are seriously threatening that goal. 


    After meeting with the pricipal and last school psychologist last week, I was assured that Michael would be excused from that group.  On Friday, he reported to me that he had attended group again and that the discussion had once again turned to "the gross things".  It would be bad enough if Michael were ... normal.  But this child was in the group to start with because he lacks sophistication and emotional maturity.  So this is beyond "not funny".  Michael is confused and upset and we're having to work through some real trauma here. 


    My friend says that if she didn't know for a fact that I was really living this stuff, it would just seem impossible that one life could have so much strangeness in it.  I guess other people really don't have the roller coaster ride that I can't seem to get off of.  But whether it's a regular life, a strange life, or just my life ... it's life.  And for some reason, I have attracted the attention of angels who are getting me through it. 


     

  • Tis the Season ...


    The holiday season is perhaps the most stressful time of the year.  People have an increase in their activities, they are trying to shop for the perfect gift, they are trying to make things wonderful for their families, and they are trying to cope with the financial stress of paying for it all.  It is a myth that there are more suicides at Christmas than at any other time of year.  (Actual statics put some day along about the end of April or beginning of May as the most deadly.)  But this is the time of year that media puts the spotlight on the problem. 


    Many people experience the "Holiday Blues" with the following symptoms:



    • headache

    • insomnia (that would be me, I've been up again since 4 and I didn't fall asleep until almost midnight)

    • hypersomnia (sleeping too much - don't I wish!)

    • change in appetite, with resultant weight loss or gain

    • agitation and anxiety

    • excessive or inappropriate feelings of guilt

    • diminished ability to think clearly or concentrate

    • decreased interest in activities that usually bring pleasure


      • food

      • sex

      • work

      • friends

      • hobbies

      • entertainment

    Experiencing these symptoms for longer than two weeks changes the situation from "blues" to depression.  But that's another blog.  And for those of you who might be getting worried about me now - let me say that I watched Merchant of Venice last night and thoroughly enjoyed Al Pacino as Shylock.  In fact, my sympathy for that character reached an all time high with his performance to the point that I almost wished that he had been granted the satisfaction of slaying his enemy.  Except that Jeremy Irons was wonderful as Antonio as well.  Shakespeare was simply a marvelous story teller and I would defy anyone to say who the REAL villian of that very human story is.  But I digress.


    There is one aspect of this Holiday Bluesness that I have been turning over in my mind.  From the outside I look at other people's lives and think, "That problem isn't bad enough to warrant such a response."  Then I turn around and do the same to myself.  I look at the amount of pain that my different circumstances create and try to talk myself out of my hurt.  I'll say, "other people have it so much worse, surely you can handle this little __________" and you can fill in the blank with the problem of the day.


    But at the bottom it isn't how bad the problem is, it's how badly the problem is hurting the person who has it. 


    This year, I'm feeling a little sorry for myself.  Things seem very quiet and lonely here.  This will be the first year after about five in a row that Tucker won't be able to spend his birthday (Dec 30) in Arkansas with the cousins. So far he hasn't complained about it much.  I may be more depressed over that than he is. 


    But all this blueness in my heart has led to my looking around at other people I know and thinking about what their Christmas must be like.  I've been watching for opportunity to do things that will maybe brighten another person's life just a little, let them know that someone else is aware that things aren't all merry and bright.  And maybe we'll all get through it together in the end.


     

  • Another Day ...


    I keep thinking that there should be something cool I could write about.  It is the week before Christmas (more or less).  I'm surrounded by material.  And I have all this stuff in my head.  But I guess it's true that when you have too much going on it's hard to sort it out and decide what's important enough to talk about it. 


    So I'll just say that thanks to Shakespeare, Michael has figured out what psychotic means. 

  • Love in Shakespeare ... My son is working on his Shakespeare report.  And I'm coming home from work and drowning my woes in deepest intoxication.  Today I have the day off.  And I'm spending it drunk as the most stereotypical of depressed people.  I'm starting with the wonderfully irreverent Shakespeare in Love.  I'm working my way through Richard III and then ... then I'm thinking that I will go off to the video store and attempt to rent Henry V. 


    See the natural condition of the theater business is one of "insurmountable obstacles on the road to imminent disaster, but strangely enough, it all turns out well."   Kind of like my life. 


    Happy Hump Day.

  • Spoke too soon?


    Apparently I spoke ahead of myself yesterday because I did not receive the job offer.  I didn't get a phone call from anybody.  ~sigh~  Today I'm going back to the School District office and trying again to get the process going to be a substitute teacher. 


    It's warmer today.  We are starting out at 12 degrees with the predicted high in the mid 30's.  Balmy.  Good, going out and finding a job weather.  Good, this is the first day of the rest of my life weather.  Good, I have a hundred ideas for a new book that would be an alternative history kind of thing weather.  So with the weather this good, I'd better get started. 



  • All temps reported in Fahrenheit


    yes it is now officially  FREAKING COLD here.  The school system has announced they will be on a 2 hour delay because of inclement weather.  I'm thinking that the Verrette kids may be staying home because Mom is too much of a weenie to get out in this even for a little while.  Brrrrrrrrrrrrr.  Okay, I know it's warmed up since I saw the above when I first woke up.  (And, ahem, promply returned to bed and pulled the blanket over my head for another hour.) 


    I am probably going to be offered a job today.  It's not the job I would have thought would be ideal for me - or even close to ideal.  But it's a job and it will pay enough that in combination with the child support money, I will be able to support myself.  Ideal job would pay enough that I could support myself without having to rely on the child support money.  But that may be a goal that won't be realized anytime soon.   


    I've been reading a book by Barbara Sher about figuring out what it is that you really want to do in life and I think I have it figured out.  I want to write and travel.  Ideally, I would spend 3-6 months on a book, deliver it to a publisher, receive a nice fat check for my genius and then travel for the next 3-6 months until it was time to start the next book. 


    Now here's a bit of encouragement to my dream.  Four years ago, Mary and I were kicking around a story idea.  We did some freewriting exercises and brainstormed some basic plot.  And I was convinced at the time that the writing I was doing ... sucked.  Well, she saved all that.  And this week she made pdf files of those docs and sent them back to me.  And you know what?  They didn't suck.  They were pretty good in fact.  Good enough that I was intrigued and want to know what's going to happen next.  Maybe even good enough for me to start really believing it that I'm a writer and I need to take this seriously.


    Few days ago, I was playing literati online with a fellow from Malta.  That would be a nice tour, doncha think?  Finish up the book, get the check, head to Malta.  Specially this time of year. 


    Oh well, I'm only in Chapter three of Sher's book, maybe by the time I get to the end, I'll have figured out how to make it all work.  God knows I'm not going to be out running around the countryside anytime soon.


    Brrrrrrrrrr.



     

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    All temperatures reported are in Fahrenheit.