i just had no idea.

this whole marriage thing, it's hard. so hard. i've heard it described that way, and i truly had no idea. i always envisioned it as such a happy time. i mean, come on. all of the photos make it look that way. blissful. the happiest time of your life.
i don't feel that way. not at all.
it feels so incredibly difficult.
so. incredibly. difficult.

i started writing this blog with the intentions to help myself, and in the process, help others. i've always heard that when you're in a serious relationship you're not supposed to talk to too many people about your problems, so i don't. instead, i write about them, hoping along the way to work this stuff out in my own head.

i don't know if other people go through this stuff too. i don't know if these feelings are normal, if we're a mismatch, what. the boyfriend has been married before, and i want to ask him if it was this difficult the first time around, but of course, he wasn't a widower the first time around. he also wasn't maneuvering through a relationship with a 9 year old the first time around. it isn't an apples to apples comparison. and frankly, i don't really want to be comparing our relationship to his first one, i fight doing that to myself enough.

i continually struggle with our situation. i basically live with he and macy, i haven't slept in my apartment in months. i still pay for my apartment, and my cats live in my apartment - a $1,000.00/month cat house. it's quite a strain actually. a terrible strain. ever so slowly over the past two years of my unemployment, i've been working my @$$ off babysitting and doing odd jobs to make ends meet, and ever so slowly drawing down from my savings account until basically, there is nothing left. i've made it for two years, and that i'm proud of, but it's hit panic mode at this point.

the boyfriend and i have had numerous conversations about this. he wants me to get rid of my apartment and officially move in with him, which i'd like to do too, but i'm not going to do it until we are officially engaged. i simply don't want to. i need the security of knowing it's really going to happen before i let go of what is mine - my home. i feel like i've given up a lot already, ya know? i mean, it's tough being a single girl, and gaining this whole family in one sitting. even though it's what i've wanted, it's still a shock. i feel that we've done remarkably well, but it's been a struggle too.

also, his home is basically set up the way it was when his family was complete, before his first wife tragically died. the majority of her things have been removed, but a few things still remain. of course. i mean, they shared that home together for at least a decade. their family photos are up everywhere. in his room there are photos of the two of them together, the dresser still has some personal items of hers in there, and there are two night stands, one of which is full of her items. there are also a few items in the closet. i've not said anything about these things - because really, what am i to say? it's become a tad of a conundrum as he wants me to move in, but how do you move in when it feels like there are already three people living there?

over the last weekend we did talk about how i needed some space to call my own, that there isn't really any space that is "mine". we worked a bit on that, clearing out a closet that was full of macy's baby clothes and toys. that was emotional for him, and i knew it would be. it's hard. it's closing a chapter on a life that nobody expected to cut short. and just as i felt nostalgic for my apartment, i'm sure he felt nostalgic for what was. i completely understood, and wanted to help him, even though i knew that he needed to work through it on his own.

it's just a difficult time.

and it's so hard for me. i don't know exactly where my home is. i live there, but still have my stuff at my apartment. the worst blow of all came later in the week, yesterday. we still aren't engaged, and therefore, i am still looking for ways to keep my rent paid. as school is back in session, my regular sitting jobs have gone back to slimmer hours, and i've been trying to pick up more hours. i applied for some jobs out near his house since that is where i spend most of my time, and had some interviews. i didn't get either job. the blow, however, came in the form of this response from the woman, who liked me a lot but found someone who better suited her needs because she was "local".

when i told this to the boyfriend he said "how much more local did she want? you live right here." and i said, "but here's the thing, i don't, technically i live in the city." and he said, "but i don't understand why for the sake of the job, you couldn't just tell her that you live here." and i said, "because, i don't want to tell people that i live here, when technically, i don't. i'm sure you can appreciate that." silence from him.

silence that led to more silence and more silence and more silence piled upon more silence until finally i said, "i'm going to bed." which led him to say, "i'll have to move macy, she's in our bed." damn. a thunderstorm. could this day be more annoying? "yes, you'll need to move her, i'd like to go to bed." so he moved her. and i went to bed. and he came, and i said "i don't know where my home is and i'm tired of it." and we had h.o.t. sex. like the stuff movies are made of.

and then i woke up at 4:30 am and i couldn't fall back asleep, because my thoughts were so circular. it's always the same - one things feeds into the other which feeds into the other which comes back around to the first, and i'm left wondering if i've made the right decision by shacking up with him, or if it would be best for me to just go back and stay at my house that i work so hard to pay for until he is ready to have me truly move in?

so i got up at 4:30 and went downstairs and read. and he came looking for me. but i wasn't in the mood to talk.

so i read until macy got up for school. and i just wasn't in the mood to do all of the stuff i normally do for her and him in the mornings. i didn't help get her ready for school nor pack her lunch nor make her breakfast. i didn't make sure her hair was brushed nor tell her to get dressed, i just kept sitting there and reading. and i didn't ride with them to school. i just kept reading and reading and reading.

and he came back and kissed me and i just kept reading.

then finally at 10 i took a break and looked at facebook, and i lost it. competely had a meltdown. another friend got engaged last night, and somebody else posted their wedding photos, and here i sit, with no movement from the man who claims to want to marry me.

and i went upstairs and laid on the bed and cried. and he came in and hugged me. and i laid there and cried. and i finally said: "i'm just not sure what to do anymore. i really don't know. everyone is getting engaged and married, and you're not moving. i don't know what to do anymore." and he stared at me. so i continued, "do you know what it feels like to come in here and sleep in a room that's full of photos of your family? or to share a dresser with you and your wife? or to go to bed with a nightstand full of her stuff? or to open the closet and see her belongings? i haven't said anything because what am i to say, but do you have any idea how that feels?"

and he just looked at me. so i continued because i thought this was my only chance, "i mean, i just don't get it, and i keep telling you, but you don't do anything. it costs me $1,000.00 every month that i have to scrape together in babysitting money to pay for an apartment that you don't want me to live in. i have gone so far as to apply for jobs at grocery stores and big box stores. where do i live? shoud i apply for jobs there by the place i pay to live or here at the place that i actually stay? the ultimate was yesterday when i didn't get a job because i'm not considered to live here, even though this is where i stay, and you think you can just take you time and go through every room at your own leisure...i don't know if i should leave and let you just do things as you need to and come back when you've taken your time or what i should do at this point, what should i do?"

and he said, "what is it that you want me to do? i don't understand what you want me to do?"

and i said, "i don't really think that i should have to be telling you what you should do to make room for me in your house. i think that if you really want this, you should know what you need to do. i mean, winter is coming again, and you are the only one that can park in the garage for instance - did you ever think that perhaps i would like to park in the garage so i don't have to scrape off my car everyday? why would i need to tell you that? why wouldn't you think of that on your own? you should be thinking of me and of how to make room for me to be here if you want me here, i shouldn't have to tell you this stuff. i see other men marrying women, and i doubt they have to be told what to do, do you even really want this to happen?"

and he said, "yes". he continued, "i'd be more likely to clean up the basement if it didn't get filled up with stuff again. it's like i clean it and it just gets filled up with stuff again."

i just looked at him.

i got up and took a shower. while i was in the shower i could hear him cleaning stuff out. i came in the bedroom to dress after the shower, and i got dressed and noticed he was wearing his ipod headphones. i tapped him on the shoulder and told him i was leaving.

i took my computer and my book club book, and i left. i didn't really know where i was going, nor how long i'll be gone.

i've come to my apartment.

i have pet my cats for hours. i've called to lower my cell phone bill. i've made a vet appointment for next week, and i've written this blog. i don't really know what else to do, but i don't feel like going back, at least not yet.

i feel hurt.

macy will be looking for me after school.

i suppose i should get over it. i suppose that's what you have to do when you're in a relationship, get over it.

it's so annoying though. i mean, really?

i simply don't want to be always telling him what to do. i just don't. why can't he think of that stuff on his own. i mean, realistically, i'd think that he doesn't want to be bossed around by me.

how does it work?

the most frustrating thing is that i want to talk to my mom. but you're not supposed to talk to your mom about your significant other, they can't remain neutral, right?

i feel so alone. that's the worst part, i feel so damn alone.

does everybody feel this way in a relationship?

back to school

well, it's been a long summer. much different than i anticipated. it went so fast! too fast. i anticipated lots and lots of time with macy. i feel like i didn't get that much. i don't really know where the time went, honestly. i feel like i blinked, and 2 1/2 months passed like that.

i spent a lot of time with other people's children. too much time actually. a gig all day mondays, a gig monday night. an all day gig tuesdays that morphs into tuesday nights. a wednesday gig, a thursday gig, a different thursday night gig. occasionally a friday gig.

i thought i'd have a ton of money after the summer. but i don't. not at all. people cancel at the last minute. the babysitting world is a weird world. i see both sides of the coin - i am a sitter for so many people, yet we also hire sitters for macy. i swear, i'd love to be my sitter. i bake for my sitters. i ensure we have their favorite drink on hand. we either make dinner for them, have something special for them to eat, or leave them money to order something for dinner. you'd be amazed how many homes i go into that have NOTHING for me to eat. nothing. and i'm there for like 8 hours, or over the course of a meal time. people are not very considerate to their sitters.

anyway. i could go on and on about it.

it's redonk really. i mean, i'm reduced at this point in my life to applying to working in grocery stores and big box stores because they have good insurance programs. really? yes, really.

the boyfriend and i are still talking about getting married. i know - you're thinking "talking", why not doing. well, we've progressed. my stuff has started to move in. it's an emotional process, for both of us. in order for me to move my stuff in, a lot of old stuff has to move out - and that is hard. also, it's harder for me than i thought it would be. we put my duvee on his bed the other day, and i was like - wow, this is real. i'm not going to be living in my apartment anymore. i was kind of sad. not in a way that i want to go back and live there, i don't, i want to be with him. it feels good and right to be with him for the rest of my life, starting from yesterday's moment forward, so that isn't what i mean - it's just the closing of that single chapter that makes me a bit nostalgic. we have been planning where all of my furniture will go, and which things of his will be gotten rid of. today we talked about what kind of a ring i want. weird. it's really happening.

mostly, it's macy that i'm still adjusting to. honestly, sometimes she's such a brat. like. seriously. tonight for instance, is a perfect example. macy turned 9 over the summer. happy birthday macy. we had a blowout party for her, it was stellar. she had the best time ever. seriously. it was so fun, that it made my friends who don't have kids think that they could actually do it when they saw the photos on facebook. anyway, back to tonight. she went home from school with a friend, and that friend's mom took them out for a sushi dinner. macy loves sushi, it's her favorite food. we got a free night, so we also went out to dinner. yay us. so we go to pick her up, and on the way home she convinces her dad to get her a slurpee because it's "slurpee wednesday". her dad, the boyfriend, says "are you sure you want a slurpee because lucy and i are getting ice cream cones, wouldn't you rather just have an ice cream cone?" macy insists she'd rather have the slurpee, giving some long drawn out explanation as to why she doesn't need ice cream, blah blah blah...so we stop and get her the slurpee and drive on to the ice cream shop.

once we arrive at the ice cream shop, she decides she has changed her mind, and is ready to abandon the slurpee for ice cream. her dad says no. she is adamant this is what she's doing, and becomes a tad beligerent when he won't allow her to do it. macy tries to talk her way out of/into anything, and she goes on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and ON about this. he doesn't stop her, just patiently keeps telling her no. she's on my last nerve after about the 10th time she asks. she finally says, "well then, i'm throwing this slurpee on the ground and getting and ice cream cone!" i finally step in and say "look macy, #1, if you are done with your slurpee, go throw it away in the garbage, not on the ground - that's littering. #2, stop complaining, your dad gave you the choice and you chose the slurpee, so stop complaining already! enough is enough!"

she turned around and went outside of the ice cream shop to wait on the benches outside. the boyfriend thought that he shouldn't get ice cream because it would make her feel bad. i said, "look, if you give in to her pouting, you will only teach her to continue to do it. get ice cream!" so we both got a cone and went outside and sat with her, as she sat with her back to us, facing the wall, pouting. the boyfriend offered her a bite of his cone. she took three. then she turned to me and said, "lucy, can i have a bite of yours?" "no," i said. "why not?" she asked. "because," i answered, "when i asked you for a bite of your slurpee you said no, so you can't have any of my ice cream now." "oh," she said, "do you want some of my slurpee now?" "no thanks," i repied. "suit yourself," she retorted, "i gave you a chance."

i sat there seething. knowing that i wasn't handling it right, and hating her just a little bit.

macy has a certain way of ruining everything. for me anyway. she is manipuative. she regresses when necessary and acts like a baby. the boyfriend and i will be having a terrific time, macy sees it and raises her arms in the air like a tiny baby and says in a childlike voice, "daddy...huggy?" that drives me bonkers. sometimes she doesn't even bother to say the words, she just stops what she's doing - be it reading, eating, running, anything, and stands with her arms in the air with this pathetic, controlling look on her face, bouncing, waiting for her father to come running into her arms for an embrace. when i'm there i break the moment by saying, "use your words, macy."

thunderstorms

last night there was a terrible thunderstorm. it lasted bascially all through the night, and into this morning.
it's actually still raining, with occasional lightning.
i think it's a remnant of tropical storm bonnie or something like that.

macy is terrified of thunderstorms.
it really annoys me.
can i say that?
it really does.
i feel guilty about that.
i feel like i should be more compassionate towards her when she's scared of them, but i'm not.
i get annoyed.
she covers her ears, and hides.

it annoys me because she wants to sleep with us.
i think this is ridiculous.
she will be 9 years old in two weeks, and i personally think this is too old to be sleeping with us.

the reasons i think this is too old to be sleeping with us are the following:
a) she goes to sleep away camp for a week every summer where there are thunderstorms, and she doesn't sleep with us then.
b) she wants to have sleep overs with her friends where there could potentially be thunderstorms and she couldn't sleep with us then.
c) i think it's part of the ongoing unhealthy relationship she and the boyfriend have where she acts like a baby and he allows her to and it freaking annoys me! it's like this part of their relationship where it feeds into each other, it's like they both need it in this really unhealthy way, and i can't stand it. maybe because i'm not a parent, maybe because i'm not part of it and it makes me jealous...i dunno.

anyway, my parents are in town this weekend staying with my sister and all six of us had a nice evening together. afterward the boyfriend, macy and i came back home. macy went to bed. the thunderstorm started, and so did the big ball of dread in my stomach. the boyfriend and i were watching a movie on tv when sure enough, here comes macy downstairs, with her ears plugged and jumps on top of my stomach, whining. i kept praying for it to pass, or for her to go back to sleep enough for him to carry her upstairs. but to no avail.

the whining starts, "daddy, can you please get me a drink of water so i don't have to take my fingers out of my ears?" "no macy, you can get it yourself, we're sitting right here, you go and get it." "but I don't want to!" "macy, that's enough." back to eyes closed. five minutes later..."daddy, can you PLEASE go get me a drink of water so i don't have to take my fingers out of my ears?" "no macy, i already told you no, you can get it yourself, we're sitting right here, you go and get it." "but DADDY!" small break... "DADDY!" "Ok macy." i shot him a glance that could have killed a small animal, and headed upstairs to get ready for bed. i absolutely hate it when he tells her no and then she whines repeatedly and he gives in. i mean, seriously, talk about reinforcing negative behavior, all that teaches her is that if she whines enough and repeatedly she can get whatever she wants.

so i'm upstairs brushing my teeth,and macy is standing in the hall with her water, and she asks where her dad is, and i say "downstairs, would you like me to tuck you back in?" and she says very matter of factly, "oh, i'm not going back to my bed, i'm sleeping in your room now, that's what always happens when it storms."

i was not happy about this. i knew it could be a possibility, but the boyfriend didn't discuss it with me. he didn't ask, can macy come in - would that be alright with you? would you mind? i think that's appropriate. the bed isn't really big enough for the three of us to sleep comfortably, it never works. macy spends the whole night waking me up to readjust herself or me, to get more pillows, more covers, ask me to quit snoring, etc, and frankly, she belongs in her own bed. period. i don't mean to be uncompassionate, but macy isn't a small child, she is an almost 9 year old girl, and a thunderstorm isn't an emergency. she's going to need to learn to sleep on her own.
she's not a baby.

i replied, "i don't know anything about this." i heard her go to her dad and say, "daddy, can i sleep with you." he said simply, "yes."

that was it, i grabbed my pajamas and headed for the basement. macy said, "where are you goin?" i said, "downstairs, i can't sleep with three of us in the bed." and i kissed her on the head and said good night. the boyfriend was in the bathroom brushing his teeth and i said "good night." he said, "where are you going?" and i said "downstairs." he said, "why?" i said "i can't sleep like that."

this morning i woke up at 6:15 to use the restroom and put my foot on the floor into a puddle of water. a flood, and it's still raining. i went to wake him and we've been working on getting the two inches of water out of the basement ever since.

macy came down and announced, "i slept great. daddy, your bed is way more comfortable than mine. i'd like to keep sleeping in there."

honestly, i feel like going home to my own apartment tonight.

i'm tired.

while we were working on the water, i said to the boyfriend, "honey, i need to talk to you about something - can you multi-task, or would another time be better?" he said another time would probably be better.

it's hard. i just feel like we parent completely differently. i'm a boundary setter. he gives in. it causes me to feel like i'm uncompassionate, and like he spoils her. it also causes tension between her and i because i feel like it is perpetually pitting us against one another. it shouldn't be that she's getting my place in the bed, that is simply wrong. i shouldn't have to share the bed with my boyfriend's daughter at the age of 9. i think that's weird.

maybe this isn't the relationship for me afterall. i simply don't know.

married?

so. the other night as we're going to bed the boyfriend asks if he can talk to me.
he tells me that he wants to get married to me right now.
yay.
this is what i've been waiting for, for my whole life.
to be married to the man i love, and i do love him.

i should be thrilled, right?
ecstatic, right?
we laid there, talking about whether or not he'd ask my dad, what kind of a wedding we'd want, silver or gold bands, who would balance the checkbook, etc...

but then it got complicated.
super complicated.

he can't get married right now. for several reasons.
i don't know how much i should divulge on this blog. i don't even know if i have any readers anyway. i was just reading an op-ed in the new york times over the weekend about an art piece at new york university called "growing" that a father did on his minor daughters thirty years ago. he filmed their growing breasts and genitals, asking them how they felt. now the piece has been purchased by nyu, and the women, currently in their 40's would like it destroyed. the writer spoke to the issue of creating art/writing about your family members and whether or not it's kosher. if you don't do it because somebody doesn't like it, then it's considered censorship. i don' t know if the boyfriend would appreciate me writing about his personal business - but here goes.

let's suffice it to say that part of the complexity has to do with his desire for his sole income to be his artistry, and he's not in a place to fully support himself, me and macy with that yet, so there is a waiting period (read: he'll need to find a different job in this economy). how long, nobody knows.

this wasn't an engagement, this was a getting it all out on the table talk.

the other aspect of this talk was to let me know how scared he is that i'll get pregnant in the meantime. his income is currently funded by social security as funded by his widow which permits him to work on his artistry, and if something were to happen and i were to become pregnant, he couldn't immediately fix it. couldn't run to the courthouse and marry me. we had a scare last month where my clockwork menses was 9 days late, and all of this fell on his shoulders - the reality of his financial situation, the desire to be married to me now, the urgency he felt to get his life in order since his artistry isn't taking off the way he felt that it should.

he wants to be in a place where he knows that he can support me, where he is making good decisions for all of us.

all of this is well and good, headed in the right direction. except that i'm ready now.

his solution to not getting pregnant is to stop having sex. this he feels is the only way to prevent the problem of an unwanted pregnancy before we are able to get married. he just told me this the other night, out of the blue, that he thinks we shouldn't be having sex anymore because he's worried something will happen and he can't fix it.

i mean, this was a lot of information at once: he wants to marry me, his income stops immediately when he gets married again and he thinks we should stop having sex.

needless to say, i wasn't sure how to feel: elated, shocked, awed, angry, disappointed, fearful. i felt it all. mostly, this wasn't how i expected to feel when the man i love said he wants to marry me. i settled on overwhelmed and began to cry.

thursday, friday, saturday, sunday, and monday - they've all been tension filled days. these are the days we should be happy. we were so happy wednesday night to finally stop skirting around the issue and speak out loud that we want to spend the rest of our lives together, but rather than celebrating, we've been fighting and full of tension.

i'm sad and angry. he's not ready. he decided about not having sex without consulting me. i keep trying to explain to him that if i had decided that without consulting him, i doubt he'd be so understanding. that if i suddenly, one day just came to him and said that i didn't think we should have sex anymore until we got married, and i had no idea when that would be, that it could be years, i thought he'd probably have an issue with it. he feels defensive and that i'm being disrespectful of his decision because i've brought it up every day since. i have. we have friends that are married who stopped having sex. they've only been married for three years, and they haven't had sex in a year. i don't want that to happen to us. ever.

it starts with fear about something, and before you know it, it escalates into something else.

this morning i told him that i felt like my relationship was being ruled by his fears - my sex life by his fear of me getting pregnant and my marriage timeline by his fear of letting go of his social security check and that i didn't like it one bit. that i felt stuck, and ruled by his fears, and that i didn't think that was a healthy way to live.

needless to say, that didn't go over so well.

i feel like a real heel right now.

perhaps my fears are ruling the relationship as well. my fear that he won't pull through, that's a big one. my fear that this will be the end and we'll lose what we used to have. my fear that finding somebody who wants to marry me will be as close to marriage as i'll ever get. my fear of losing macy.

i dunno know anymore. i simply want to go to sleep.

sometimes i think i might internally be 12.

seriously.

this is going to be a quick post because i don't have much time.

today was the last day of my jobs for moms a and b.
i prayed for joy before i went, that i would enjoy the children and simply find joy in them.

it went well.
we played hide and go seek, monster, sidewalk chalk.
we played with the water table, we watched their favorite program on tv.
snack time went off with out a hitch.

i had 5 of them today, so i didn't have time to do the dishes, and i didn't worry about it.

we came in from playing outside and mom a was working upstairs.

one of the 2 year olds, the son of mom a, had a hard time playing down in the play room with us while his mother was upstairs working, so she let him run around upstairs with her.

about 10 minutes before i was to leave, the 4-year old girl, the one who is super duper bossy and snotty announced that she too was going upstairs to play. i asked her to please stay downstairs, as we only had 10 minutes left to play together, and if she went upstairs, the remaining 3 children would want to follow, and we needed to give her mother the last 10 minutes to finish her work.

she turned to me, and in the snottiest voice i have seriously ever heard come out of a child, she shouted, "LUCY, I AM GOING UPSTAIRS TO PLAY. STOP TALKING TO ME. I WILL DO WHAT I WANT, WHEN I WANT. YOU BE QUIET, I AM GOING TO PLAY WITH MY BROTHER AND YOU LEAVE ME ALONE!"

i was in the midst of telling her that i didn't appreciate her talking to me like that when suddenly her mother was standing at the top of the stairs.

the little girl turned around and bumped into her mother's knees.

her mother said, "catherine. you will turn around right now and apologize to lucy this instant." catherine turned around and lamely said, "sorry." so softly i couldn't hear her. her mother said, "catherine, no, that is not how you apologize. you will go downstairs, look her in the eye, and say 'lucy, i am sorry i spoke to you so rudely, please forgive me.' and you will wait to be forgiven." so she did. then her mother said, "now, if i EVER hear you speak like that again to lucy, you will receive a time out, is that understood?" "yes mommy." and, "and if i ever hear you speak like that again to another adult, you will also get a time out, is that understood?" "yes mommy." then, "when lucy is here, lucy is in charge, even when i am here working. you are NEVER to tell lucy what to do, is that clear? and you are never to speak to her in that voice again."

and what did i feel?

i felt like i wanted to scream, "haha catherine. fuck you. i win after all."

i swear, i'm 12.

Family Reunion

i started this blog to help. myself. others. everyone. though i have no followers. i don't think anybody reads it. perhaps it's really more like an on-line journal. i think i had one reader, once.

i am 41 years old, and single. i'm dating a widower with a daughter. i had no children in my life at all for the longest time other than the offspring of friends.

then, i was laid off, as i've mentioned, and out of desperation for money to live, started babysitting. babysitting became something i was really good at, something i really enjoyed though i hadn't done it since high school, and i started doing it all of the time. i started a business out of it, and started helping other unemployed people i know keep themselves afloat during this weird recession period. it can be pretty lucrative as well. i don't do it simply because it's lucrative, but that's just a fact, it is. if you can get a couple of families to share their time with you, it benefits everyone - you make more money per hour, they pay less per hour, and everyone wins. (unless they expect you to do the dishes...see previous post).

so i went from no children, to working with children and dating with children. and sometimes, it's hard. i don't remember who i am without children. only none of them are mine.

i was at a party last weekend, and there were children there, a lot of them children i'm often paid to be responsible for - only this time all parents were present, and i didn't know who i was without having to say "oh, don't touch that, oh, you need to ask for more, oh, be careful with that!" seriously, i was slightly at a loss.

i'm in this weird transition time, caught in between being single and being with family, and i'm neither. does that make sense? i basically live with the boyfriend and macy, but yet i have my own apartment too. i want to live with them, i love them. i feel like they are my family.

this weekend they are away at a family reunion for macy's mom's side of the family, and i'm back at my place. i'm happy they are doing what they need to do. i have things i need to do for me, but subconsciously, it's a struggle. i miss them. i missed macy waking me up early this morning. i miss hearing her wretched cartoons blasting incessantly from the tv and telling her to turn it off. i miss sitting with the boyfriend and reading the New York Times, and the way he smells when he comes back from running, all sweaty and manly.

i know, it's only one weekend.

i think it's amplified by the fact that i have to be on an antibiotic right now, and my body is reacting funny to it. it's making me all tired and weepy. i've had 128 ounces of cranberry juice in the past 24 hours, and it hurts when i pee (i think you know why i'm on the anti-biotic), and i'm just tired.

it's hot in my apartment and my airconditioning units aren't in. the boyfriend said i should stay at his house when he's gone, but i really do need to get stuff done at my place.

last night i went to see "the killers" with a girlfriend. it was better than i expected it to be. the posters for that film make it look completely lame, but it had some interesting twists, and was funnier than i expected.

i came home and caught up on back episodes of "the city" on mtv.com. kelly coutrone really does give good advice. she is like a fairy godmother.

i think what's really bothering me down deep inside, is the dreams i kept having last night, combined with the telephone conversation with the boyfriend before i went to bed. he called after the movie. it was sweet. he was telling me about being there, and about what i guess is his sister-in-law's family business she has. it sounds really cool. she and her husband and their two sons restore old cars. (when your wife passes, is her sister still your sister in law? i think so, he isn't sure what to call her because they've never been close.) anyway, they have this business where they restore old cars, which does sound particularly cool - especially for high school boys. they don't even drive yet, but can take apart, clean, restore, and put back together these cars. awesome. they are set as far as boys go, and having a skill like that will more than likely keep them out of trouble.

he was telling me all about it and sounded excited. he asked me about my night and what i was doing tomorrow and as i was telling him he interrupted me and said, "listen, i'm gonna get going, i'm fading fast, i'm tired." i hate it when he does that. it's so selfish. i said, "oh, am i boring you?" and he said, "no, i'm just getting tired." yeah, you're always tired lately.

i mean, he is. it's so annoying. i don't get it. he's ALWAYS tired. i know he has an 8 year old, but i basically live with them, and she doesn't make me that tired.

i can't tell if he's trying to escape, or if he is really tired, or if he's depressed, or if it's just his chemical make-up, or what's going on. i don't think it's normal to be that tired. he's a writer, so it's not like he's going to an office and putting in long grueling hours there, he pretty much sets his own hours.

sometimes i feel like he's half dead. i feel like telling him this.

i just don't know.

anyway.

i just said, "ok, good-bye." and we hung up.

when i went to bed last night, i had a dream that i was at the family reunion with them, and that his wife came back from the dead. and i didn't know what to do with myself. i was looking to the boyfriend for answers, and he just disappeared. i was waiting to see who he would choose, like in that movie with tom hanks where he is the fed ex worker and he is on that island forever with wilson and he comes back to helen hunt and she thought he was dead and has remarried and so they talk to each other but she has moved on, i thought about that movie in my dream, i thought - will he remember that he's now in a relationship with me? in the dream i was sitting at the breakfast table with his wife and her sisters, and she was having to learn how to talk again, and she couldn't remember certain words. i had made eggs but she couldn't remember the word for eggs, she turned to me and said, "you...whatever your name is, you are the one who came here with my husband, what are these called?" and i said, "they are called eggs, and my name is lucy, and he's not your husband anymore."

the thing is, the boyfriend would be so upset if he knew i was feeling this way. he loves me. i just get insecure sometimes. it's silly really.

it's especially silly to feel so threatened by a deceased wife, right? right. silly, but normal. i'd guess. is it? i don't know.

i'll tell ya, things come up, that i never expected to come up. by things, i mean feelings.

normally, i just talk to him about these things, but it's hard right now. especially surrounding this topic. but i think i have to. i want to be perfectly honest with him, and i want him to be perfectly honest with me, and i think the only way to do that is to be, well, perfectly honest, even about the ugly things in my life.

last week was a hard week. we didn't have sex at all tuesday, wednesday or thursday, and that seems like a lot to me. it's allergy season, and allergy season means allergy pills and allergy pills mean a low flying sail.

i think it's more than that though. i know because i looked up his deceased wife's obituary that it's the anniversary of her death next week, and i think maybe that has something to do with it.

i dunno.

this stuff is complex, and we're facing all of it for the first time. we'll do it. we faced their wedding anniversary head on, and i know we can face the other stuff head on. once i get him to talk, it's always fine, it's just the getting him to talk that can be a little tricky, because he never thinks he needs to.

oh, men.

oh, emotions.

oh, my incredible need to discuss everything.

i have a friend who is a grief counselor in boston. she sent me a great booklet, that i just happened to get in the mail yesterday. perfect timing. it has all kinds of wonderful information in it. one of the examples is about how women and men deal with things differently. there was a couple who's best man at their wedding committed suicide. the woman needed to talk about it, the man didn't. he would go running, and decided to train for a marathon. the more he ran, the more tired he would be, and the more tired he was, the more able he was to sleep - which was what he needed. when he was running, she missed him, which made her need to talk even greater. finally, she realized that he was running as a way to deal with his grief, and she joined a support group to talk, and cheered him on at the marathon.

hmmm.

duh, lucy, duh.

oh. really?

so. today has been a bit frustrating, to say the least. i arose at the ripe time of 6 am to get right to it. i wanted to drink coffee and eat something before i hit the road at 7, and i need an hour for my thyroid medicine to absorb into my system before i can eat, so i got up, took it, and made coffee.
i got back in bed for a bit and cuddled the boyfriend, well, because he's cute.

then i came downstairs, made coffee, and checked email. macy woke up at 6:30 and i heard her go in the boyfriend's room and look for me. she came downstairs and looked for me and came and sat with me. she was in a snotty mood though, so that wasn't much fun. i hate it when she's like that. she was all about wanting to go outside and get a bug to bring inside to put in a spider web that she found. i told her to ask her dad first as i didn't think he'd appreciate a bug being brought into the house. she flipped out and got super snotty with me. i told her i didn't appreciate that, especially so early in the morning, before my coffee. she shouted FINE. i was like - look, knock it off. i'm not saying no, i'm simply saying ask your dad. she rolled her eyes. i said, "that's the equivalent of saying snotty words."

she stormed off. i thought perhaps she was hungry. so i said, "macy, are you hungry and would you like some breakfast?" yes. "can i make it for you?" no. "do you want to wait for your dad to make it for you?" no. "are you going to make it for yourself?" no. ok. forget it. i had a full day of snotty kids ahead of me that i was going to actually get paid to watch, i wasn't going to stand there letting her be rude to me for free, so i turned and walked away as the coffee was beeping.

i passed the boyfriend on the stairs as i was heading back up to dress and said, "careful..macy's got a stick up her ass this morning." he said, "uh-oh, what did she do." i said, "oh, she's just super snotty, and i'm not in the mood for it." i kissed him, and went in the room to get dressed.

when i came out, macy was on the toilet, door open, playing a video game. "hi" she said. "hi" i said back, and went in to the sink beside her to brush my teeth. "i'm not waiting for her to finish" i thought, i'm just going to do what i need to do and get outta here before i have to deal with her any further. "i like your skirt," she said. "thanks," i said, in between toothpaste spits. "can you turn away so i can wipe please?" she asked.

i left the bathroom, still brushing. she flushed and washed her hands, and i came in to finish brushing. macy was now in her room, playing her video game. i wondered if her father had sent her upstairs. my guess was yes, usually she'd be downstairs watching tv at that time...she musta been snotty to him too. shrug. i washed my face, applied eye cream and headed downstairs.

the boyfriend made me toast and wrapped it in a paper towel so i could take it to go, and filled up my to go mug with coffee, kissed me good-bye and we talked of a later love rendevous tonight. hopefully neither of us are too tired, as he and macy are leaving for a family vacation on a jet plane tomorrow of his deceased wife's side of the family, and i won't see him for 5 days, our longest separation to date. sigh.

as a side bar, i'm quasi looking forward to some time to myself. not to being away from him, but to some time to myself, just to regroup. our love affair has been fast and furious, and i need to organize. my apartment, which i've all but moved out of, is a disaster. i don't officially live with he and macy, but spend most nights during the week there lately, and probably will this summer, and all weekends. i go to my place to visit my cats. as i was going there today, i thought, "it's like i'm my own cat sitter." ridiculous.

anyway. on to my day. i am still finishing up this regular weekly gig for mom's A and B that i referenced in a previous post, and today was the day to do it. i arrived to my position 20 minutes early, and spent some time catching up on emails on my "smart phone" in the car. i went in at the appointed time, and found out that family B wasn't coming. fine. i've already resigned myself to the fact that for the next couple of weeks i may not make the money once promised to me, and i don't care anymore - i'm finishing up my duties with them and high tailing it out of there.

today though, reached a new low.

normally at this position, i have four children ages 4 and under (one 4 year old, two 2 year olds, and one 6 month old). the 4 year old is potty trained, the others are all in diapers.

i'm there in a four hour shift. we do a variety of activities while i'm there. the home i sit in is a four story town home (lots of fours in this story - four stories, four children, four hours, a four year old child...), with three different levels to play on, lots of staircases to go up and down. there is an outside space to play in, also on three levels, with three metal staircases to climb. lots of places to potentially fall, lots of diapers to change, lots of little toy pieces to keep out of little mouths, lots of personalities to balance.

i tell you all of this simply to set the stage: i'm a hands on sitter. i don't sit on the couch and watch tv, i interact. if the child is going up the stairs, i follow the child to make sure he or she doesn't fall. i can tell you every the children touched while i was there so if there is a missing piece, i know whether or not they swallowed it. if they are eating, i am watching every bite so there is no choking. children don't sit in a wet diaper on my watch.

again. four children, three of them in diapers on this shift.

so, today during snack time, the four-year old says to me, "lucy, my mommy said that i'm supposed to tell you that you're supposed to start washing the dishes when you're here. mommy says that she's tired of coming home after you've been here and there is a big mess. mommy says lucy is messy and that she wants you to start cleaning up better. mommy says you always make a big mess." oh. really.

um. well. 4 year old kid. lemme tell you a couple o'things. 1) your mom is on crack. that's right. crack cocaine. 2) i wash the dishes every fucking week i'm here, all of the dishes that we use that is. 3) perhaps your mom doesn't like coming home to see all of the breakfast dishes that she has left piled up on the sink. yeah, that's right, that sucks. dirty dishes are a pain in the ass, kiddo, but somebody's gotta clean them, and if she'd like me to do it, then perhaps she should say, "oh lucy, by the way, could you please add cleaning my kitchen to your duties IF YOU HAVE ANY TIME WHILE YOU ARE MAKING SURE THAT FOUR CHILDREN UNDER THE AGE OF 4 DON'T KILL THEMSELVES OR EACH OTHER OR CHOKE TO DEATH? thanks. 4) i have, on occasion when there has been opportunity and everybody has been safe, cleaned your mother's kitchen for her. she didn't thank me, nor offer to reimburse me at all, so dear 4-year old child, where is the motivation for me to do it again? 5) if your mother would like a maid, she should hire one. 6) and this is the most important, if your crack-head mother would like to tell me something, she should tell me herself, not tell you.

seriously. what is wrong with people? actually, i'm sure how it happened is that she probably said it outloud once or something, and this child is repeating what she heard. at least that's how i hope it happened. the thing is, this kid told me no less than 5 times to "wash the dishes." i finally said, "i need for you to understand two things - are you listening, because they are REALLY important. are you listening? 1) i'm in charge. you don't ever tell me what to do, so don't tell me again. got it? say ok so i know you understand. 2) i already washed the dishes, and i have every single time i come here, so nobody ever needs to tell me that ever again. you can tell anybody you need to, ok?" ok she said.

and i'm sure she did. she tells her mom EVERYTHING. she's like a verbal video recorder.

i don't care. the thing is, like i said, her mom is nice, at least i'd like to believe she is.

maybe it's me. maybe i'm just over this. i just feel taken advantage of a bit, and when that happens, i'm done.

d.o.n.e. done.

My Nail Polish has Chipped into the Shape of the State of Texas

For real. On the index finger of my left hand. It hasn't chipped any further, it's just sitting there, in the shape of Texas. I see this as some type of omen of sorts - that perhaps I should start a one woman human freak show. Other things I could charge to see: wiggling my ears, raising one eyebrow, touching my tongue to my nose, fitting my entire fist into my mouth, my double-jointed fingers, crossing one eye, bending my wrist so that my thumb can lie flat on my inner arm, and sitting and putting my ankle behind my head. To say I'm flexible is an understatement I suppose. If I charged a quarter per "talent", including the State of Texas - I could make $2.25 per customer. Not too shabby.

So, I'm learning a lot in my days of unemployment/employment as a nanny. It's surreal at times. To say I'm unemployed is a falsity. I have 8 regular "jobs" per week + pick up gigs. It's just that to now work as a babysitter/nanny from working as an assistant for a tv personality, well, it feels like unemployment, and my bank account would agree. For a while I collected an unemployment check from the government, until one of the jobs that I took was "legit" and I started working for a real company as opposed to babysitting like a high school student, and I started reporting income, and then I felt as though I shouldn't be collecting unemployment any longer, even though my mother says that I'm still entitled to it. I dunno. I struggle with this.

Anyway. I have this one family in particular that I sit for that I like a lot. The mom is very nice, a seemingly very sincere woman with two adorable children 3 and under when I started sitting for them. We'll call them Family A for the sake of anonymity. Around the holidays, she had a third bundle of joy. Family A introduced me to Family B during a large group babysitting job that I did for them. The mom of Family B seemed nice as well, though her children were not so nice. They were equally as cute as the children of Family A, but horribly behaved. Whatever, what are you going to do - these kids are 3 and under, so to a certain extent, it is what it is. The mom of Family B asked me for my contact information as she often needs a sitter. Great, I'll take all the jobs I can get.

So, Mom B contacts me, "Hey Lucy - here are a bunch of dates I need, blah blah blah blah blah, oh and here is what we pay: ridiculously low rate when the kiddos are awake, and even lower ridiculously low rate when they are sleeping. Let me know if these dates work for you." Um - what? Ha. That's a joke, right? So I read it again to ensure I was reading correctly, and yep, I was. I decided right then and there that I'd NEVER be sitting for Family B. I have always been "otherwise engaged" when Family B has asked, but have thanked them for asking. I have never in my entire life, even in Jr. High and High School been paid a different rate to watch somebody's children when they are sleeping. One doesn't pay for child care by whether or not the child is awake or asleep - one should be paying for child care based on the fact that somebody competent is there ensuring that your child/children are safe and well cared for and able to handle an emergency should, God forbid, one arise. My time is my time, regardless of whether or not your children are asleep or awake, and if you can't see it like that, well then, find somebody else. I didn't feel it was my place to set her straight on this, I just politely declined each and every time, and made it my own personal policy not to sit for her.

So, flash forward to a couple of months ago. Family A contacts me and asks me if I'd like to sit for them regularly one morning a week for 4 hours, as Mom A is going back to work part-time. Great I say, I'd love it. It's followed up with an email "Oh, and so Mom B says she'll also bring her kids over, and we'll pay you x amount." Ugh. So I'm roped into babysitting once a week for Mom B after all. I had a bad feeling about it once Mom B was involved, but I'd already committed to the time, so I couldn't exactly back out now - what would my excuse be? So I agree to the x rate, which was more than fair.

So we start the sitting, and it goes ok. Several weeks go by, and all parties are there, and x is paid and all is fine.

But then Mom B isn't there, and nobody talks to me ahead of time about my rate being different when Mom B isn't there during that time, and my time is used just like our verbal agreement suggested it would be, and I'm not paid x. Hmmm...weird. I'm paid x minus a significant amount. But the next week everyone is there again and x is paid.

Then the next week comes and I have another opportunity to sit someplace else, making the same x amount as I make at my Moms A/B gig. I often have this same opportunity on the same morning that I've agreed to sit for Moms A/B and I've had to decline because of this arrangement that I've made with the Moms. But on this particular week, the evening before I'm to sit, I get an email from Mom A, "Hi Lucy, sorry to have to do this to you, but my kids are sick, and I'm going to have to cancel tomorrow - I'm sure Mom B will still need you I've copied her on this email, I'll leave it to the two of you to figure out." ARGH! Now, I'm totally stuck sitting for Mom B's kid, which goes against my personal policy.

My other personal policy in babysitting is to not cancel on people. The boyfriend has Macy, and I know what it's like to be cancelled on, and it's not fun. I don't do it unless it's an emergency, so I know that I'm not going to cancel on Mom B, I also know that I've got to set a firm boundary so she understands that I'm not accepting her ridiculously low rate. She replies to Mom A's email right away, telling me - great, I can watch her son at her house because she has several clients scheduled (she's also works during that morning each week).

I decide to just boldly go for it. I reply to both of them and say, "Mom A - so sorry that your children are sick, I hope everybody feels better. We've never talked about a cancellation policy, perhaps now would be an appropriate time to do so, as I gave up another opportunity to keep my commitment here. Mom B, I'm happy to come to your house - my rate for one child is: y. Let me know if that works for you and I'll see you in the morning."

Mom A replies that yes, we should discuss a cancellation policy. Mom B replies that the rate will be fine as now it's too late to cancel her clients. I know Mom B felt that I had her by the balls, but I'm sorry lady, you can't underpay, it's not like I'm watching something unimportant here - it's your child.

As a side bar, that's one thing I really don't understand about people. I really don't. People will pay all kinds of money to have their hair done, or their cars detailed, their nails done, designer clothing, whatever - but come to childcare - CHILDCARE, their children, and some people are so cheap! I mean, shouldn't you be paying the most for childcare?

Don't get me wrong, I'm ALL about getting my nails done, and designer clothing, and getting my car detailed and all that stuff (um, when I had money, smile) - but if I had a child of my own, I would NOT skimp on childcare. I don't with Macy, and she's not even mine.

This baffles me. It really does. I'm am seriously a good babysitter. I am super anal retentive. I'm am super safety dog good. And I'm not just saying that. I am fun, engaging, I will teach your child manners, how to read, how to cook, I will clean your house during their nap or after they go to bed, in all honesty, I am a really good sitter, and so to try to pay me poorly, or any sitter poorly who is watching your precious children? I'm sorry, I just do NOT get it.

Anyway, the end of this very long and probably boring story to you by now is this: I lost the job. Sorta. Basically, Mom A, who like I said, is sincere, she said that over the summer she and Mom B would be traveling a lot and so some weeks it might just be Mom A and some weeks it might just be Mom B, and would I prefer it if I just sat for the whole crew and came back in September? So I said sure. I can't deal with being underpaid. Plus, they made a verbal arrangement for x per hour for 4 hours, and aren't paying me that. It just doesn't seem fair. She was super thoughtful about it, really. She said that she knows that I have a lot of other families that I sit for, and she is giving me an opportunity to do that over the summer.

The unfortunate thing is, that I really do like Mom A a lot. I'm sure Mom B is a nice enough person, she just pays poorly. I wish I could be honest and say to Mom A - I'd love to sit for you this summer, I just can't be underpaid by Mom B, but that won't work, they are like best friends, and it would be really REALLY inappropriate of me to tell her that her bestie is a cheapskate.

In all honesty, if I had me as a sitter, I'd just pay me the x per hour and keep me through the summer and not risk that I find another job and can't come back in September, because in all honesty, that's the risk they are taking.

Now that I think of it though, perhaps Mom A knows her bestie is a cheapskate...maybe Mom A could pay me x on her weeks, but knows that Mom B wouldn't, or couldn't. Maybe she's not a cheapskate at all, maybe she has some financial situation I know nothing of.

So, anyway, here's to hoping that I find another job.

I think it will all work out fine.

And if not, I'll go to the pool with Macy.

Congratulations - Chidelia!

You're the winner of the "Going Away Shoes" short story collection contest as part of "The Giveaway Project" as sponsored by Fiction Writer's Review.

To receive the copy of your book, please contact Lucy Blue at beforetherewerechildren@gmail.com and we can work out all of the details to get you your prize.

Thanks for reading BEFORE THERE WERE CHILDREN and please spread the word about this blog!

Lucy Blue

Significant Dates

The mind is a mysterious thing. The subconscious can remember all sorts of things that the conscious self is completely unaware of. This I've learned extensively about, especially recently.

The boyfriend, usually cheerful, has been grumpy. He said the spring is hard for him. Early spring was his wedding anniversary with his late wife, and late spring/early summer, she died. They didn't have a lot of time, so I've been told. She was diagnosed, treated, re missioned, then re diagnosed. After the re diagnosis they thought they had several months, but they only got 6 weeks. Isn't that horrible? 6 weeks. And it went fast.

It's kind of an awful spot to be in, really. I mean, his subconscious is aware of it, and I know that on a conscious level, things seem fine. He's moved on tremendously well. He's raised Macy to be a lovely bubbly girl, so smart and full of spunk, albeit slightly indulged at times. But I can see it eating away at him right now, and he blames it on everything but that. The weather, Macy's behavior, his allergies and sinuses, being tired. I don't know why he won't just say it. He's sad. For fuck's sake, who wouldn't be?

It's hard for me to watch him be sad. It's also hard for me when he's grumpy. I'm not sure what to do, and frankly, I'm getting tired of it. It would be one thing if he were grumpy and he'd admit it to me - ya know? But I ask him what's wrong, and he gives me these lame excuses, which don't warrant the behavior.

Like for instance today. Tonight is date night. We try to have date night once a week. I'm a nanny, he has a child. I need one night a week with him without any children around. I don't think this is too much to ask for - none of the beautiful children in my life are mine, and I just need one night a week with my boyfriend, all of the others I'm more than happy to spend with somebody else's children. So he got a sitter. This morning he emailed me and said that his sitter emailed him and said that she awoke with a sore throat, and wasn't sure she could make it tonight, but that he asked her to keep him posted throughout the day. Um, lame. Not him, her.

As a side bar, totally lame. I know this sitter, and she's ridiculous. She charges more per hour than I do, and she doesn't change any diapers, Macy is 8 and puts herself to bed. We've come home and the sitter has been asleep in the guest room bed. This sitter sets her own hours, brings stuff over to make rice krispy treats then takes them all home with her (who does that, they're rice krispy treats for God's sake not caviar canapes), and is now cancelling because of a sore throat? Pah-lease. She's not french kissing Macy, simply making sure she doesn't burn down the house. I could get an arm amputated and not cancel on somebody, I know how important date nights are to parents. Just wait you sitter, just you wait.

So I ask the boyfriend, could you try to find somebody else in the meantime and just tell "the sitter" that you hope she feels better so we can still go out? Sure he says, and he does. Thank you boyfriend, thank you. Then he sends me a cryptic email that says, "So and so can come, but I'll be pretty late." Ok, what does that mean? We're meeting people for dinner. 20 minutes late? 30 minutes late? 2 hours late? Come on. Work with me here. So rather than continuing this email charade, I pick up the phone and call him, and he doesn't answer. Great. You just emailed me from your "smart phone", yet you can't pick up. Passive aggressive anyone? So I leave a cheerful message along the lines of thinking it would be easier to connect in person, and just curious about how late is late, and blah blah blah...call me when you can, thanks, click.

So he does. And he's g.r.u.m.p.y.
- Ok, so what's wrong now?
- Oh, well, I had to do all these errands today.
- (Oh really, poor guy.) And?
- Well, and I don't have everything figured out for this weekend.
- (We're supposed to go away this weekend with Macy to a neighboring state since it's Memorial Day weekend.) Ok - well, we don't have to go you know.
- Well, Macy is looking forward to it now.
- Well, you can always tell her that it isn't going to work out.
- Well, yeah, but she really wants to go.
- Ok, well, do you need some help? You can ask for help if you need it. (Please hear, stop pouting like a 4th grader.)
- I don't know.
- Ok, well, I'm sitting at my computer and I can help look up some stuff.
- Yeah, sure.

So I do, and I'm telling him, and he's still grumpy.

- Are you gonna be ok?
- I just have a lot to do. (Really. I'm in the middle of working on my free-lance stuff, so do I, but I stopped to help.)
- Where are we eating tonight anyway?
- Well, there are three options on the table, Dave is in a meeting as soon as he gets out we'll all decide, I can send you an email with the address.
- Yeah, ok. I gotta go.

So I follow through with what I say I'll do, even though I'm not very happy about it, because I feel like he's being rude.

Mostly what I feel is hurt. When he won't tell me what's going on, I feel isolated and alone, and that makes me feel really sad.

I hate to see him sad, and I wish that he could trust me enough to tell me what was going on. I wish that he could trust me enough to tell me that he didn't want to go out tonight if he doesn't want to go.

I get tired of trying to decipher through the mood swings to figure out what is going on, I'd like for him to use his words.

I have significant dates of my own. They include him, and I'd like to have more. I'd like to move forward and not be stuck in the past.

I have a friend who is going through a nasty divorce. She has children with this man. She said to me the other day that she has often wondered if it would be easier if he had died rather than having to divorce him. I said, well, it is definitely easier in some respects...there isn't another woman making my life hell, that's for sure, but there are different issues that you have to deal with, different types of ghosts so to speak.

An untimely death of a spouse sucks. I don't know how else to say it. I love the boyfriend and Macy so much. It is a strange situation to be in their lives because of a tragedy such that they they have experienced. If I could erase it for them, I would. I hate that that had to live through that pain, but I cannot express to you how incredibly happy I am to have them in my life. It's a complicated journey, this one that I'm on. Every day is new and different, and we are learning a lot along the way.

I pray for wisdom everyday.

Going Away Shoes

Inspired by the Emerging Writers Network–who dubbed May as Short Story Month again this year, Fiction Writers Review is excited to propose a community effort by lit bloggers to raise attention for short story collections: Short Story Month 2010: The Collection Giveaway Project.

To participate in Short Story Month 2010: The Giveaway Project:

(1) This month, post an entry on your blog recommending a recently published short story collection (or two, or three). The post can be long or short, a review or merely a rave. The one requirement is that you, the blogger, have read and loved the book(s) in question.

(2) Offer a copy of the book (or each book) as a giveaway to one lucky person who comments on your blog. You can choose the winner through a drawing, or by the wittiness of his/her remarks, or by whatever criteria you choose.

(3) Announce the winner(s) on May 31, 2010, and arrange to send out copies of any books you are giving away.

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I couldn't have stumbled upon The Giveaway Project at a better time.

On Sundays, as I mentioned in a previous post, I like to read the SundayStyles section of the NY Times.

On Saturdays we have a different ritual. Macy wakes us up at 7:30, argh, cursed cursed morning. However, I always try to make the most of it. The boyfriend is a runner, and runs at least 3 times a week - one of those times being Saturdays. That leaves me with Macy. We have taken to walking to the local coffee shop. However, local is a more relative term when you live in the 'burbs like he does (as opposed to the city like I do - our perpetual war), and the nearest shop is not on the next corner like it is by my house, it's 1.7 miles down the street. I know because I've clocked it with the odometer on his car.

So, while he runs, Macy and I walk to the coffee shop. She likes to play pretend games on our journey for my caffeine. She pretends that I am the queen and she is the princess. She gathers sticks and we use them as swords and have sword fights along the way, ignoring the stares of the suburban passersby (That's my favorite part). We pretend the houses along our way belong to the people in our kingdom and we wave. We pretend the white lines in the crosswalk are crocodiles along a river allowing us to use their heads for stepping stones. The boyfriend meets us at the coffee shop and we all have breakfast together, Macy and I continuing our walk home.

For weeks since the winter thaw we've walked past the cutest library, and I've been wanting to go in. One week I said to Macy, "I'm going to stop here and check it out." "NO," she declared, "I don't want to!" "Well then, you can sit on the bench and wait for me outside, I'll just be a few minutes, I want to see what it's like on the inside, it looks so cute," I retorted. She followed me inside and said as she ran past me, "I'll be in the kids section." I followed her in to make sure she was settled, told her I'd be back in 5 minutes, then started on my exploration. The upstairs is filled with winged back chairs and shelved books.

I stopped in the section titled "New" just to see if there was anything I could find there that I'd recently seen on bookstores shelves, might as well utilize the library since I'm watching every penny pretty closely these days. That's when I saw it..."Going Away Shoes" by Jill McCorkle. I admit, I was first attracted to the title because of the word shoes. I love fashion, and in particular, shoes. So I picked it up and read the inside flap to see what this was all about, and saw that the stories were all about women, and all tied together somehow by shoes. I thought, "Well, why not?" and used Macy's suburban library card to check out the book, as my city card won't work out there.

I loved this book. I couldn't put it down. It was one of those books that stayed with me. I would think about the stories and the characters long after the story was over. I couldn't wait to crack it open and read the next one to see where it would take me. I felt that I could relate to so many of the characters. In particular, I loved the story titled "Another Dimension", and even kept the book past it's due date at the library to have the boyfriend read it as well. He also loved it. He is reading all of the stories in the book so we can discuss them.

Another story in the book I loved was "PS", the letter written to the marriage counselor, as well as "Intervention" and "Me and Big Foot".

I was very interested to read that Jill McCorkle lives in Hillsborough, North Carolina. I understand it is quite an artist's colony there.

I've never really written a book review before, and don't really feel that this is a review, I'd put it more in the rave category, it's not an intelligent enough post to be considered a review.

Plus, I don't have any followers at this point. However, I really found this book to have significant emotional intelligence, that was what was the most striking to me about the book - the significant and striking emotional intelligence of the characters in the book, which leads me to believe that the author must have incredible insight into people.

I really enjoyed this book, and found this "contest" to be unique, I like the grass-roots mentality of it, promoting one another's works...so I thought I'd like to be a part of it.

I would love to send this book to somebody - the winner of my contest is the person who gives the most thoughtful comment, whatever that may be...

Thank you.

Dress Rehearsal

Today I am staring at blue eyes and dimples. She is 2 months old, and her mom is away, receiving her last treatment. Nine treatments in total. 4 of them while this little thing was in her mom's uterus, but she came out just fine, and has been plumping up ever since. I am her first sitter, and was her older brother's first sitter as well. She smiles, mostly in her sleep. Today she laughed while sleeping, and it was the cutest thing. After her second bottle today, and subsequent giant burp, I got a waking smile out of her. I always smile after burping, so I completely understood.

Yesterday was c.r.a.z.y. Crazy I say. It was probably amplified in craziness due to the fact that the night before, the boyfriend's central air went out, and it was hot as Hades. Summer dumped on us the two days before, without much warning, and his ac's coils froze. We consulted the Internet to see if we could fix it ourselves, found out we could, and let them thaw. That meant sleeping with the windows open and a fan blowing on us. The 8 year old slept great, she has a ceiling fan in her princess room...but no such luck in the boyfriend's room. Both of us suffer from seasonal allergies, so sleeping with the window open on a hot night doesn't make for much fun...couple that with the early birds, literally, and I was miserable the majority of the night. Miserable, hot, sneezing and awake. I wanted to take off all of my clothes and sleep in the nude, which I do in my own apartment, but I was terrified of horrifying the 8 year old, should I actually fall asleep and she walk in needing something in our sleep.

It seemed as though I had just fallen asleep when she came in saying, "Wake up Lucy, it's time for breakfast! Dad's making pancakes and hash browns." Nothing like carb loading on a Tuesday. I walked downstairs and it smelled like McDonald's (yes, I unfortunately do know what McDonald's breakfast smells like). But I enjoyed it nonetheless, especially the coffee. We ate, laughed, and dressed quickly so we could get Macy to school on time, and me to the first sitting gig of the day.

It seems as though all seasons around here are traffic seasons, if it's not one thing it's another - snow, rain, construction...so though it's a mere 5 mile trip from the boyfriend's to the first sitting job of the day, it took me an hour. I was stuck in heavy traffic. I received an email on my "smart phone" from the second sitting job of the day "I forgot my phone and need you to call me at work..." so I did, which added to my stress. The conversation went like this:

Frantic Mom: Hi. Three things: One. I didn't have time to take the dog out this morning, so when you get there, you'll need to deal with that. Two. Today is Victoria's dress rehearsal for the play. You'll need to get her in her costume and make-up, there are specific instructions for the costume on the washing machine. She'll be particular about her hair. Good luck. Three. Yesterday we had the order form for the photos with the check written out on the table, but the cleaning lady came and now I can't find it, so you'll need to look for it, and if you can't find it then you'll need to write a new check for photos. Oh, and as I mentioned, I forgot my phone today and am about to head to a client's office so you're on your own and will have to wing it from here.

Me: Are you kidding? Can't you have them fax or email you another form and send them your credit card information for the photos?

Frantic Mom: Don't you have your checkbook with you?

Me: Um, no. I don't carry it, and you're kidding, right?

Frantic Mom: Well, if you can't find it, you can explain to Victoria why she isn't getting her photos. Seriously - they won't even take her picture without that form. No, just tell her that we're getting the video.

I'm thinking, I should never have made this call while driving in traffic. This is why they tell you never to talk on the phone while you're driving in general. My blood pressure was off the charts. I was trying to remember all of this, maneuver traffic, and text the other sitter at Job #1 that I was running about 10 minutes late.

I arrive at Job #1. Nine kids under the age of 4. I share this job with somebody else so we can handle it. Ironically though, I always end up being the only one that can ever smell a poopy diaper. It's the weirdest thing. I have done this job with 4 different people, and I'm the only one that can ever smell a poopy diaper, and the only one that ever changes the diapers. Yesterday we had two poopies. What is the likelihood? It's a 2-hour shift, and we go for months without any poopies, but yesterday of all days, two. And they were doosies, lemme tell you. The kind you can taste, they smell so bad. But I sucked it up (figuratively, not literally), changed them, and went on with the job. It's my philosophy to change a diaper. I think it's Karma. Someday I may end up in diapers again, and you never know which one of these kids may have to be changing my diapers, and I want them to remember that I always, always changed them immediately when they were wet or poopy, so I'd like the same in return.

After all the kiddos were safely returned to their moms at Job #1, I went to grab a quick lunch. I ordered a Farmer's Market salad - sounds nice, right? Lettuce, tomatoes, cukes, garbanzo beans, eggs, croutons, onions and blue cheese. I order mine without the blue cheese and onions. It arrives at the register and it has lettuce, cucumbers and garbanzo beans on it. I inquire about the missing tomatoes, eggs and croutons. "Oh, we're out of those." Oh really. And you couldn't have told me that when I ordered? I stood there, thinking, well, just goes with the day. I subsequently heard no less than 5 other people order the same salad, with no thought of customer service given to tell them at the time the order was placed that they were out of so many ingredients. Shrug.

Anyway. I don't want to just be bitching here. I did think to myself, that all of this would have normally been tolerated much more easily on a day that I had a lot more sleep. And I was dreading my next assignment, for I knew that the kids I was about to pick up from school and attempt to stuff into a costume had had a rough weekend. Their parents were telling them that they were getting a divorce, and I had no idea what I was walking into.

I checked into the homestead first. Dog out of crate, mad race to door. Check. Walk around the park, business #1 and business #2. Check. Off to find the costume on the washing machine - read the instructions, make sure all of the parts are there. Check. Pack after school snacks and stuff into my purse. Check. Now, where to find the picture order form and payment? Scouring the stacks of papers...could it be? I eventually found it, and stuffed it into my purse, next to the after school snacks. I had just enough time to get in the car and get the kids.

I raced to school, was the second in the carpool line. The kids got in the car. We raced home without a fight. Could this actually be? They followed my instructions and didn't take the dog out of the crate. What is going on? Victoria combed all of the tangles out of her hair and allowed me to get the headpiece in just perfectly. Is this the calm before the storm? I'm nervous at this point in the game. We get the costume on without a hitch, get in the car, get the audio book turned on, and race to...you guessed it...sit in traffic. Which we did, for an hour.

We pull up at the designated spot, 20 minutes late. A "guard" sees the costume and points us to the auditorium. I've left my car in a no parking zone with the hazards on. To be safe, I left Pauline, the non costumed child, strapped into the car thinking "I'm much less likely to be towed if there is a kid in the car..." and race in with Victoria, order form in hand. I confirm all systems go, and shove her backstage saying reassuring things like "You're the prettiest one here," and "Your mom will pick you up at 6:30, have fun!" I head back to the car, where the "guard" says, "Ma'am, just so you know, next time, you can't leave a child strapped in the car..." I cut him off and say, "Oh, ok, thanks." I get in, and breath a sigh of relief.

Pauline and I head home, do her homework, and I let her play computer games while I cook dinner. Four separate dinners mind you - Monte Cristo for Mom, Chicken Nuggets and Broccoli for Victoria, Grilled Cheese with American Cheese for Pauline and Grilled Cheese with Cheddar for me. Pauline and I sit down to dinner, have a lovely conversation and keep the rest in the oven for their Mom and Victoria when they get home, and head to the park with the dog.

We watch some boys having soccer practice, take a stroll. Victoria makes it home, changes out of her costume, and eats dinner with Mom, before heading downstairs to play more computer games with Pauline while their Mom finishes up her weekly Monday night conference call. I clean up their dinner plates, and join the girls downstairs, keeping the dog at bay and from destroying anything else in their house. Unfortunately, I was too late and he got a chapstick before I could get to him. They get in their pajamas and brush their teeth, and jump rope for a while before we read Chapter 2 of "Alice in Wonderland."

Their daddy calls to tell them goodnight, and Victoria is angry at him, she simply grabs the phone and says, "No thanks." I make her call him back and at least ask him if he is coming to her dance recital the next day. While on the phone she softens a bit and says, "I'm sorry daddy, I do love you."

By then their Mom is finished with her call and comes downstairs to find the normally rambunctious girls curled up on my lap, listening to me read. She says to me, "Is it just me, or are you the best?" The girls say in unison, "She's the best."

I leave feeling like, perhaps life is more than a dress rehearsal really, though this statement has been made a million times before...we do it every day, and every day really does matter.

It started so rough, so incredibly rough. And many times throughout it, I wanted to vomit from the sheer tiredness of it all, yet at the end of it, I felt incredibly fulfilled.

I climbed into my car and called the boyfriend, who had locked himself out earlier that day. We had a good chuckle. I told him I had started a new blog, and he said, "Well, if you're writing about me, could you at least make me taller?"

God, I love him.

People vs. The Game

Today started ok. The boyfriend let me sleep in. I rolled over and he was gone. I knew that meant he arose before the little one came in screaming like a wild banshee, which she does on Saturday and Sunday mornings at 7:30 a.m. sharp. Yesterday I got up with her and let him sleep in, so I knew that was my cue that today was my day to sleep, which I did. I slept and slept and slept until 8:45 and I thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it. Then I stretched and went running.

When I came back he was sitting outside reading the Sunday paper, so I hydrated and sat outside to join him. She came out too, and decided to dig in the dirt "for slugs" she said. She made a muddy mess with cups of water and dirt and God only knows what, but she was having a good time and this allotted me more time to read and drink coffee without having to entertain her, so I let her make as much of a mess a she wanted.

Earlier that morning, when I came down to say good morning to the two of them, she was playing her nintendo DS game. The two of them had been to the local coffee shop to buy coffee and scones, and she was embroiled in the heat of some game. I said "good morning Macy." To which she replied, "Please be quite, I'm playing my game." I said, "Pardon me?" and she said, "I said PLEASE BE QUIET, I'm TRYING to PLAY my GAME."

Now, sleep or no sleep, I'm not a morning person, and I'm definitely not attune to attitude from a child playing some electronic game and not speaking to me. Manners were a must in the household in which I grew up, and I find myself attempting to enforce them on Macy all of the time. I looked at her father with a raised eyebrow. He said "Macy's having a bit of trouble with her game this morning." Ahh, I see...and this is my problem how? So I said in my ever so ginger sassy morning voice, "Um, people are more important than any game...that's rude. I'm going running." He smiled his constant smile and said, "The coffee will be waiting for you when you get back." I kissed him good-bye and headed out the door, thinking about how I would confront the issue upon my return.

I started down the street, full of piss and vinegar, preparing my speech. "Look," I thought, "I know Macy is only 8, but she needs to learn this stuff now so she doesn't turn in to some weird gamer type who can't function properly in normal society when she's a teenager or God forbid an adult. We've got to teach her that people are more important that any game. That no matter what is happening in her game, if anybody speaks to her, especially an adult, she is to set her game aside and look them in the eye and address them politely."

Yes, yes, that's it. It's perfect. Now, concentrate on breathing while you run - in through the nose, out through the mouth. Perfect.

So there I sat after my run, fully hydrated, raspberry scone on the plate in front of me, coffee in the mug to my right, NY times in my hands, in my boyfriend's lawn furniture in his nicely mowed back yard while his 8 year old daughter dug for slugs in the mud to my left, and he was upstairs showering, my speech all prepared for when he came back down.

Now two important things you should know before I continue this story: 1. They lost his wife/her mother to cancer approximately four years ago. I didn't know them then, but as their story unfolds to me, I know that their lives were smashed apart by her death. Who's wouldn't be? I don't want this blog in general to be about that, it's not fair to me for it to be, this is my outlet, but I need for you to know in order for this story to make sense. 2. Every Sunday I love to read the SundayStyles section of the NY Times, and in particular, the Modern Love column.

So, there I sat, all set up for a successful hour at least, of reading and breakfast/caffeine fulfillment when I came across the Modern Love section. Today it was about a woman who was dating a man with an 8 year old daughter. The 8 year old daughter had lost her mother (though I don't know to what). The man whom the woman was dating died of cancer while she was dating him, and she was left with this 8 year old girl, though she didn't want to be her mother. In fact, nobody really wanted to be her mother. As the father was dying, it was really difficult for anybody to want to step up to take this child. Finally an aunt did, and the author of the column agreed to take the girl to the aunt's house after the funeral. The author hadn't wanted to keep the girl, she had had a hard enough time dating a man with a child - giving up the idea of her single life, competing for his attention with the child (I could relate). Eventually the aunt called the girl and said it wasn't working out, and sent the girl to a foster home.

I was reading with my mouth open, tears streaming down my face, as Macy came over to me with two roly poly's in her muddy little hand to show me. "Look Lucy, look what I found! Can I keep them, please?" Yes, Macy, yes you can keep them. "What do you think they eat Lucy? Vegetation? Roots? What should I feed them? Weeds? Leaves? Maybe I'll put different types of vegetation in their cage. I've had roly poly's before for pets." I sat listening to her, even though I didn't know what she was saying. Suddenly, nothing else mattered. I couldn't imagine a life without her.

I folded the paper and put it down. I continued to drink my coffee and eat my scone while sitting in my boyfriend's lawn furniture in his nicely mowed back yard, only this time my eyes and ears were on his 8 year old, absorbing everything she had to say. I couldn't get enough of her.

Oddly, I never did give him my speech.

Saturday

My boyfriend is asleep on the couch. It's 9:46 pm. I've been waiting to play Scrabble, but I don't think it's gonna happen. I'm trying not to be angry. I'm thinking of taking my computer into another room before the snoring begins because I think the snoring will push me over the edge.

We're in our early 40's, and I think it's too early to fall asleep on a Saturday night. Up until 9 months ago when we met, I never would have been in at this time on a Saturday night unless I had decided to spend a quiet evening alone. Now, he's perpetually worn out by the 8-year old. But wait, he spent the day with me, and she spent the day with the sitter, so I'm not sure what the deal is. Why is he so tired? Why is he always so tired? We didn't even have sex last night. And it's looking like the same trajectory is ahead for tonight. Damn. This is boring. This is not what I had in mind when getting into a relationship.

Heck, Scrabble isn't even that exciting. But it is interactive. I thought it would keep him awake. Engaged. It's better than sitting in front of the tv. Listen to me. Is this even working?

He's so awesome to me. This morning I had a total meltdown. You see, I've been unemployed for almost two years. I've not been sitting around doing nothing unemployed, I've been looking for a job, and working everyday unemployed. I babysit, I do small projects for people. It's become ridiculous in my opinion actually. Two years ago I was the personal assistant to a tv personality. Now I'm a babysitter. Actually, the two jobs aren't that different on a day to day basis, sans the diaper changing and the pay checks. But back to the meltdown. This morning I got word that one of the gals I sit with on a regular basis will be leaving because she got into the graduate school program she applied to. Kudos to her, seriously. It's excellent news. But I completely melted as I realized - everyone's life is moving on, and I'm still unemployed. I completely freaked out over my watermelon and eggs breakfast. Sobbed. He sat there and listened to me, stroked my arm, held me and at the end of it all what did he say? He said, "I believe in you."

And now I'm thinking of him, upstairs (he just got up off of the couch, and I told him I was upset that we aren't playing Scrabble, jerk that I am, that I would have appreciated it if he could have just told me originally that he didn't want to play instead of telling me what I wanted to hear, that I think that is becoming a problem between us - him telling me what he thinks I want to hear rather than telling me what he really wants.) He looked tired and said, "Ok."

Tomorrow is a new day. Tomorrow I will bake him a cake as a congratulations for getting his article pitch accepted. Tomorrow I will battle many wills with his 8-year old. Tomorrow we may go visit his mother. Tomorrow I will wake up and look over at him and wonder how on earth I came to be in this house with him, and how I ever woke up and got through any days without him. Tomorrow I will try not to hate myself so much. Tomorrow night he will still be tired. Maybe tomorrow we will play Scrabble.

For now, I will curl up beside him and love him..