Thursday, February 23, 2012

Unfriending the Ex

So I did it. I took the plunge, as they say. I unfriended my ex and the rest of his family on Facebook. Next step? File for divorce. But that's okay, it's been heading this way longer than I even care to contemplate. I should have done this a long time ago and saved myself a lot of trouble and drama. I mean really.

The ex, of course, has accused me of using the kids as pawns in this whole dissolution of the relationship thing, which is patently ridiculous and really deserves no discussion. I have tried my hardest to keep him in their lives, but I am no longer willing to wait around for him to decide he has time to see them. Is this using them as pawns? Refusing to wait for phone calls, refusing to sit around my house until he shows up, doing things he was supposed to do, taking them to doctor appointments by myself, being a SINGLE FREAKING PARENT because he doesn't have time? THIS is using them as pawns? Sorry, here I was thinking I was living my life, and doing a good job doing the best I can. I was unaware of the ex's point of view. Whoops.

He also has accused me of not paying attention to myself, in like a million ways, and called me on things I thought were completely valid, but in his world is petty shit, I guess. Tells me I need to grow up. As if I'm not already 100% more grown up and responsible than he is. I am always there for my kids, though maybe not in the same way that he would be, but then we are two different people. Duh. I am there to clean up their vomit, a job he has NEVER done, I am there to make sure they are fed, bathed, clean clothes, food to go with them when they go some place (those pesky allergies, anyway!), I wash the dishes, I may not be perfect at all of these things but I DO MY BEST. More than I can say for him. He can't even REMEMBER what the kids can't eat. So stuck in his own head and his own world view, they only exist for him when it's convenient.

So yes, unfriended you are, jerk face. And the rest of your family too, especially since I keep getting phone calls from COLLECTIONS AGENCIES for people who don't even LIVE HERE. And yes, they are your Dad and Step-Mom. Fine, but I need not associate with them or with you, and now I can finally say whatever I want on my own personal Facebook, without worrying about what they, or you, all think. FINALLY. And that feels pretty damn good.

Saturday, February 11, 2012

Creepy Hiking Story

I had a random realization today. Whenever I hear a pileated woodpecker call, I feel like I'm in some Stephen King novel and some gruesome mutant is going to come wandering out of the shadows or something. Makes me downright paranoid. Especially when I'm working on something by myself, when I know no one else is even around... pretty creepy. And that also brings to mind a story I have, about hiking in the woods one day a couple of years ago...

My then-husband, our two kids, and I went hiking in the pygmy forest one day, not too far from our house. We were headed up an old trail near a creek, going for some old logging roads out there in the woods. On the way out, first 3/4 mile or so, it was idyllic. Nice sunny day, birds chirping, water in the creek running, warm out but nice in the shade. We were hiking uphill on what used to be a logging road itself, in fact, but it had been many years disused. When we got to the top of the hill, we stopped for a minute and had a breather, since the kids were so little.

A couple minutes later, after we had started up again, following another disused logging road out toward where I knew there was a junction where a bunch of roads came together, I started to hear pileated woodpeckers calling to each other in the woods. No other birds, no other noise. Just the wind sighing in the trees, and the woodpeckers. That made it feel a little creepy, but sometimes the forest is quiet, right? No big deal. So we kept walking, heading for the junction. We were talking, joking about feeling like being in Maine, being in a Stephen King novel, telling the kids what kind of footprints they were seeing, naming trees, that sort of thing, when I looked up and saw a pile of dirt on the road ahead. Okay, whatever, people build jumps for their dirt bikes out there. I got that, known that since I was a kid. As we got closer to it, though, I knew it wasn't a jump. Shaped wrong, I could tell even before we were close enough to see what it really was. Closer we got, the weirder it felt.

So we get up next to it, and stop, and what should lie on the other side but a hole shaped just like a grave, only not that deep. Maybe almost three feet deep, two feet wide, and six feet long, and dug in some hard-pan clay with a lot of determination. Knowing what I do about hard-pan clay, I could tell it had been dug when the clay was pretty dry. I could still see shovel marks in the clay on the sides of the hole. Now that must have been someone who was really pissed, I joked, but the joke fell pretty flat. Now the kids were starting to get a little freaked, just like we were, so we kept going down the road, making light of the hole and trying to pretend not to be so creeped out by it. We hiked on for maybe another half mile, passing assorted trash piles and lots of pygmy cypress trees and huckleberry bushes. We passed by a couple of turn-offs and walked the straight road, until we came across something else random and weird.

An altar. Built of cast-off chimney bricks, or some sort of old bricks, anyway. Complete with dog skull.

At that, we decided to turn around and hike back a different way. Some way that didn't go past the grave-shaped hole.

So we hiked back, found the junction, and took a different road. This road, though, went through a clearing that had once been a big turn-around for the logging trucks and tractors that must have been in use years before. Sometime since then, in the meantime, large amounts of old tree stumps had been hauled into the clearing. Lots of them bore signs of burning, and I knew this had been an old party spot in past years. No one had quite succeeded in burning any of them all the way, no matter how old and dry they were. At this, the kids started really whining, they were very freaked out. Through all of this, there was little noise. Even the woodpeckers had stopped.

So, we picked up the littlest child and took turns carrying her back home. Moral of the story? You should never take the kids hiking when you don't know what's out there. Also, when life gives you a sign like the grave-shaped hole, turn the hell around and go home, it's not likely to get better. Good news is, it was creepy but nothing overtly bad actually happened. Just a lot of whining from the children, which is pretty normal. And the back strain of carrying the girl child up hill to our driveway. That is pretty normal too, of course.

And the hole? It's still there. Went back last Fall with my daughter and my sister, and saw it again. I could still see the shovel marks in the clay on the sides of the hole, and all I can wonder is Gee, who dug that? And why? Complete weirdness, in Northern California.

Monday, February 6, 2012

My Amazing Weekend... Not.

So my last post was on the 2nd... by the 4th, I had that incredible puking nastiness that my kid had. And not just me, but kid #2 had it as well, to the tune of puking in her bed and not even waking me up. Personally, I could happily live without ever walking into the kids room and finding a half-dried puddle of vomit on the pillow EVER AGAIN. Especially when I still felt like puking, kinda, myself. That had to be one of the grossest, most miserable weekends on record in my house.

Speaking of my house, I have failed to clean it. Okay, I did clean up the puke and wash all the laundry, but the rest of the house is sadly lacking cleanliness... it needs help. BIG TIME. Ah well, I know what I'm doing tomorrow, huh? House cleaning 101, emergency status. Oh yes. I need a siren for that, I bet that would make my kids freaking JUMP to help clean up, instead of fighting  me every step of the way. There would be no more arguing, whining, crying, and if there was I wouldn't be able to hear it anyway. "What? I can't hear you! The faster we get it cleaned up, the faster we can turn off the siren! I know it's loud! That's the POINT!"

Good thought for the evening, I guess. ;)

Thursday, February 2, 2012

Coffee. I rest my case.

So last night was one of those why don't I just stay up and wait for the kid to puke kind of nights. I did get some sleep, which is good, but the boy child didn't get much, since he was up every hour or so vomiting. The good news is he made it to the toilet every single time and didn't puke on the floor. This is a massive bonus, last time he was sick and puking he puked on the floor repeatedly. Oh yes. That was not a fun day, night, whatever. All of the above.

I have been in Supermom mode today, dealing with puke and poopy pants, cleaning my bathroom so no one else gets sick, cleaning my kitchen since it was completely trashed, like some herd of monkeys came through and smeared food on ALL the dishes... what else? Oh yeah, bathed not one but two kids, took out my trash, washed some laundry, fixed the washing machine... yep. Even that. Is it naptime yet? No, of course not, it's COFFEE time! My kids don't nap, why would anyone imagine life would be so easy? Oh, I also did some actual work, if anyone cares. In my spare time, don't you know. And I still have plenty that needs to get done, the day is nowhere near over yet. At all.

I'm wondering, right at this very moment, how I ever managed to get anything done when I didn't drink coffee.