"Rage, Rage Against the Dying of the Light"

Thank god it is 4 more minutes until Friday. Been a hell of a week. Also, tomorrow is the last day in this horrid month.

Death of a friend, confrontations with neighbors, kids totally not listening, friction with the husband unit, grandmother (and last living grandparent) is not doing well health wise.

I have been so full of pure anger lately. Lots of yelling, throwing of things; I have become a three year old with 37 years worth of baggage to fuel the tantrums.

I need a good outlet for all this pent up, furious ball inside of my head. It is very crowded with problems that have no solutions. I hate that. I am big on solutions and resolutions and I am just spinning my wheels in the sand.

Well, dear readers, time for bed. The cloak of sleep may provide some temporary passage through these choppy waters.

"Junior High Redux"

Welcome to my dysfunctional neighborhood. I live in a development in a rural area. The land used to be a farm; now its crop is rows of McMansions which house some very interesting souls. The part we live in is "Stage/Phase 2" or some other term. The houses near the entrance are "older" by maybe a year or two, but they are "Phase One". Yes, it sounds sinister.

We built our house 6 and 1/2 years ago and we live where the development abuts another, older development, with no pass through roads. Our street is a horseshoe shape and we live near the bottom, towards the curve.

To our immediate left is a very nice family from India. They have 2 boys and are fairly quiet and don't interact much with the neighborhood. They tried very hard to get to know people but I think the neighbors were turned off by the food (my neighbor rocks the curry and vegetarian stuff I have never seen or tried in an "American" Indian restaurant.) They held 3 or 4 large parties, inviting their friends from the tri-state area and people on the block. I think our family was the only family who ate anything. They haven't invited anyone to their parties in 2 years, I think due to the ignorant sniggering in relation to the food and music choices. Every year, about 2 to 3 weeks before Christmas, the Homeowners' Association gets upset because my Indian neighbors put up lights and have fireworks. I tried to tell the idiot President of the HOA our neighbors are Hindi and are celebrating Diwali and not Christmas.

Our neighbors to the right are a nice family with a boy and girl. The dad is kind of a model train freak and the mom is into gardening. I have never had a problem with them and they are generally nice people. The mom watches some of the younger neighborhood kids on the side for some income.

Directly across from us is a young couple who had no kids when they moved in; just a dog and a cat. They now have a newborn and a 2 year old. They are both former Marines; the husband is now a police officer and the mom has some corporate job. These are the people who went psycho after the camping trip the neighborhood ladies went on 4 years ago. The husband told the wife not to talk about him on the trip. Of course we talked about our husbands; and our kids and lots of other things. I saw the husband a couple days after the trip at our Chiro and he was joking how we all probably sat around and talked about "our men" all weekend. I said yes (or something to that effect) but didn't reveal anything specific. (What the hell else do a bunch of drunk women in the woods talk about for 2 days???) Anyway, this is the couple whose marriage I "ruined". They seem to be okay as they now have 2 children and are still married. They have not spoken or waved or nodded at me in 4 years.

Next to them is the couple with 2 boys and a younger daughter. They are the ones with the hunting cabin up on Route 6 where this whole stupid drama unfolded. Dad is a very quiet person. He still waves and speaks to us so I hold nothing against him. The wife is a drama queen. We used to have coffee or tea a couple times a week (she works at home doing court transcriptions). She would dish on everyone in the neighborhood. And I am the one with the big mouth? After cop-wife decided I was evil, hunter's wife stopped speaking to me and started some weird campaign to befriend the whole neighborhood and poison them against me.

The kids' bus stop used to be at one corner. I would go there in the morning with my kids (after our camping fiasco) and in the afternoon to pick them up to walk home. Everytime I would get to the corner, I would get stares, and the women would very deliberately turn their backs to me. It was hellish. I wanted to move so badly. We even looked at houses but the market at that point had started to fall and we would lose financially big time.

This year we have 2 bus stops; one of them is MY driveway. I can't even go outside to wave my children off to school. I hug and kiss them and send them outside and watch as these moms let their kids run through my flower beds and hang from my mailbox.

I am a prisoner in my own home.

There are neighbors who do speak to us and are above this whole mess but it really isn't enough when you have 2 houses across the street, 1 up the street and 3 more behind us that are acting like 12 year old girls. Sometimes they send my kids home, not letting them play (outside) with their kids.

It is one thing to treat me poorly but when you take it out on my children that is beyond immature.

The development as a whole, not just my street, is totally weird. The HOA switches roles among three people so there really are never real elections with new people running. A painter who came to my house (I found out he lives on the other side of the development) said he hates it here too. He lived in another development before this one and he knew there was always drama but he said no one says "hi" or waves. He and his family feel isolated as well.

I swear, the minute the housing market recovers, we are out of here. Between my junior high mentality neighbors (who all talked trash to me about each other until I became the common enemy) and living with an HOA that tells me what color my door can be and having to ask permission to do anything to MY house that I paid for, I just want to go live in a cave.

I just wish my kids didn't have to see adults acting like this. It breaks my heart.

"Life with Multiples"

I am a mother to 4 great girls; one of them is 10, three of them are 8. Yes, Virginia, I have triplets.

I get questions all the time (well, for 8 years now) about the children, my pregnancy, the delivery, etc. It is wearing. People are generally kind but there are some who say really stupid things.

"Were they born all at once?" "Are they identical?" (one has green eyes and is short, one has blue eyes, one has brown eyes) "I always wanted twins..." (um, so, are you saying triplets are bad?) "I bet people ask you such personal things. So tell me, was it vaginal?" "Are they natural?"

You get the idea.

I conceived all 4 of my girls with some assistance; one time I had one baby, the other time my body got three. Yes, it is hard. Not as hard as it was in the beginning, mind you. They are 8 now. They can feed, dress, turn on the TV, help with the dogs, put away their laundry (hey, hmm, my own little slave army...) by themselves. My 10 year old is what is "hard."

We have entered the rolling eyes and full body sigh/shrug stage of life. Back talk is minimal, so far, but I know it is coming. I felt really bad I had 3 kids added to our house just 2 years and 9 days after my 10 year old's birthday but it happened and you deal.

She does have to share a bedroom with one of triplets but bunk beds are cool (I never had them, except at my Aunt Marion's house in Lavallette during the Summer) and you can always blame the mess on your roomie. I grew up with a younger, by 4 years, brother. Never had a sister.

It is interesting to watch the dynamics among the 4 of them and among the triplets as well. I have started to try to call them "the 2nd graders" versus "hey, triplets" as to not label them for life as a group. Ask any mom of multiples: it is hard to give them their individuality, but when you are in Walmart looking for small kids, yelling "triplets!" gets their attention pretty fast.

I think I would complain about my work load if I had had my first child and then a singleton birth as well. I just know what it is like to have one child and then 3 more.

I love my girls so much! But yeah, it is a pain in the butt sometimes to shop for food and clothes and try to make things fair or close to equitable but I think that happens in any family with more than one child.

2 of my triplets have "special needs"; one has ADHD - Inattentive (I guess they used to call it "a day dreamer") and one is Aspergian. If having 4 kids wasn't hard enough :)

But you handle and adapt to what life gives you. You have inner strength, more than you'll ever really know, to face life's challenges with kids.

"Fading the Aide"

My one daughter, C, is Aspergian. She has had a one-to-one aide since Kindergarten; I fought tooth and nail for her. I had paid an educational advocate, wrote long emails and letters and made many visits to the school district's Special Education Department. (did I mention I am a Momma Bear?)

A couple of months into Kindergarten, and after the school district ending up paying a psychologist I chose to evaluate C (which was not cheap for them), she got her aide! Mrs. A was awesome!

Through OT and Speech and with the help of her aide, C started to make friends, learn some basic conversation skills, how to "read" social situations and just BLOSSOM! It was wonderful!

One day, this current school year, C needed braces for her teeth so the husband and I both took her to the orthodontist for extra reassurance. (us? her?) We get to school to drop her off and Mrs. A met us in the office looking a little upset and ushered C off to class. The principal came out of his office and asked us to come in and talk with him.

He told us (this was on a Thursday, mind you) that Mrs. A was being moved to a new job in the school building and her last day with C would be tomorrow and Monday would be the "hand off/transition day to the new aide". Um. How the hell do you give a kid (and an overbearing mom) 1 1/2 days (plus a very long and painful weekend) to prepare for such a HUGE change?

If you know a person with Aspergers, especially a child, a disruption from a 2 year routine with no notice was terrifying. C thought Mrs. A didn't like her anymore; she had done something wrong. It was an awesome weekend.

The school gave C a new aide, while sweet, really just follows her around all day and isn't really C's buddy. She doesn't try to push C outside her comfort zone and try new things.

Tomorrow is an IEP meeting to discuss the "issue" of fading the one-to-one aide altogether. I am scared. Is C ready? Am I ready? Her grades are spectacular! She will still have OT and Speech Support but the aide will be gone by the end of the school year and come September (3rd grade) there will be no aide at all.

Is it time to let her fly solo? Am I holding her back by being so resistant? Who knows. The Special Ed Director (who hates me thoroughly) tells me it doesn't have to be forever if it doesn't work, but those of you with IEP kids know: once something is removed from that IEP, good luck getting it back.

"The Arrival of '"La Primavera'"

Finally, some real Spring weather around here. Mountain pinks have been divided and spread around the rest of the beds, the mound of mulch the dump truck delivered is slowly making its way, tucked around the blooming shrubs and trees...allergies are in overdrive.

I have always been a big classical music fan. My father brought me up on a combination of classical, opera, rock, jazz, showtunes...yet, I never tire of straight up classical music.

Vivaldi wrote "The Four Seasons" (or if you prefer the Italiano, Le Quattro Stagioni) in the early 1700s. It may have become trite as movie and commercial background noise but if you listen to it, really listen to it, you will be moved. As a child I would listen to it on my dad's turntable with these huge ear muff headphones which would block out the whole world and open the door to another; vibrant, loud, colorful.

Music soothes the savage anything.

"So, um, call me back if there is any harassment tonight..."

Well. My neighbor at the top of the hill has their HUGE camper/RV parked on the street. This is day three. I don't care they have one but it is parked in such a way (and the width and length has been fully opened and extended) that traffic cannot go up and down the street without fear of a head on collision.

I hit my patience threshold tonight when I almost ran over three little boys playing basketball because I couldn't see around the damn camper from hell and I tried to call the police (to ask about traffic hazards.)

I live in a rural area and there is a central dispatch for about 3 counties and several small townships within them. After explaining to the poor dispatcher where I lived for 20 minutes, an officer who could help me gets on the line. I explain the situation, I am on my way out, I am afraid when I come from work at 3 a.m. I am going to turn the corner and slam into the back of this RV. (Which has nearly happened several times in the 6 years we have lived here.)

Our street, and neighborhood, do not have street lights/lamps and it is a bad situation. Park a 50 foot by 20 foot RV in the middle of a blind curve, and you're asking for trouble.

So I get a call on my cell from the officer who said he'd go check it out; I missed the call since mobile was on vibrate, but he left a message.

He clearly agreed it was a traffic problem and asked the neighbor to shut the side (kind of like an accordion) hanging out into the street. The officer said on the voice mail they complied but were "kind of upset, so, um, call me back if there is any harassment tonight."

Nice.

Now I am afraid to let the dogs outside. Nothing like a vengeful neighbor to brighten your Friday night. Should I have gone to this neighbor directly? Well, if this were a sane and rational neighborhood, sure. It is FAR from that.

My neighbors are stuck in "junior high mode." They are very petty and because we don't get along (getting to that part) they ignore me (which is fine) but also don't allow my children to play with theirs. I try to wave and they actively stare at me and very deliberately turn their backs to me.

Four years ago a group of "us gals" went camping and used one of the neighbor's cabin in upstate PA. Only 4 of us went yet the WHOLE neighborhood is involved in this soap opera. The 4 of us spent the weekend drinking and shooting the breeze. Talked about the kids, our husbands, played board games; a perfect get away for 4 moms.

We get back to the real world and about a week later one of the husbands asked how the weekend went and joked if we talked about "our men" the whole time. My response was along the lines of "you know how we women are", or some such BS. The wife confronts me, very very very very (you get the gist) angrily and tells me I am ruining her marriage because she wasn't supposed to/allowed to (shrug) talk about her personal life/husband/sex (?).

So, the neighbors starting falling like dominoes. I think I am left with 3 people out of 15 that will even wave at me anymore. It is silly.

I want to move so badly. I expressed this to another neighbor when she struck up a conversation with me at an event we were both attending. She felt the same way and let me know she was the "new pariah". In fact, both of us had been on the MLS sites looking for anywhere else to live.

Do we ever grow up? Sadly, most of us don't. Some of us get voice mail from the police. I am so tired.

"Changes Are A'Comin'"

I have 2 more contracts to fulfill personally with my business and then I am going back to college. I will still run the business, but it will be all paperwork. It took me a long time to build up my reputation in my line of work and I see my business as one of my babies; it is going to be hard to let go totally.

So, the old gal is going back to school. I have been on campus and either I have been hit with the "middle-aged WTF's" about younger people or they are just assholes :)

It is very draining when you are older and younger people are in a position of authority over you in some way. I just want to shout "get me a grown-up"; at one point I did ask to speak to someone who didn't have hubcaps through their earlobes. I am sure they will screw with my grades and finances now that a grown woman has had a meltdown and talked to them like (not their mother, mind you, I don't think their parents paid them much attention) they were mental patients.

"Take Your Child to Work Day"

Husband has our children at his work today for this event.

When I used to work in HR it was "Take Your DAUGHTER to Work Day". Is it political correctness that has changed this event? Or do boys need to see what mom/dad do in order for you to eat, have lights, et al.?

I grew up in the 1970s and my whole school career, girls of my generation were told about being doctors and lawyers and all these other traditional male "power jobs." No one told us (including our mothers) it was okay to stay home, have kids, work a little here and there: we were actively encouraged to "make choices". Go forth and settle corporate America, wee girls. Fuck Barbie, here's a chemistry set for Christmas.

What has that done to shape the modern woman? If we have kids or get married or do both, it seems to be later in life. More women are having children after 35 (advanced maternal age, medically speaking, is 34 and above). Those of us who chose to leave work and become "mom" are looked down upon or pitied by our (former) peers.

There are websites out there in the ether where this subject is hotly debated: who is a "full time mom", "part time mom" and other abusive, arbitrary labels. When those of us who took a break to raise our family go back, we are subject to scrutiny AGAIN. "How can you leave your kids and go back to work/school/pole dancing?" The women who choose to wait until they are older are subject to derision as well; from present mothers, employers, doctors, society. Hushed tones of "She waited too long; boy will she be surprised at getting up every 2 hours; I bet she hires help; she has no clue how good she had it".

Girls are cruel on the playground and it seems to carry over to adulthood.

I am glad the boys and girls get to go to their parents' jobs today and see what and where mom and/or dad go all day. But always make it clear to your children: President, SAHM, bartender, hairdresser, corporate raider: we are still humans and we all deserve respect for the choices we have made.

"Commentary on '11 Year Itch?'"

I have been talking to more women about their marriages and how they are going. A lot of them have mentioned troubles or divorces at the nine/ten/eleven year mark(s).

Is it a societal thing? Do we get bored? We have instant gratification with microwaves, mobile phones, computers, fast food: are we looking for the quick and easy in parts of our lives which are not quick and easy?

I am trying to work on being less angry. It's hard. It's a very conscious effort.

I grew up Catholic and don't go to any church/denomination now. They had pre-Cana. Marriage classes taught by other married people. Like Childbirth Education only. I always laughed at how people took classes "to get married" and now maybe I am not so cynical about such an idea.

Love is blind but education may lift the gauze of the "smoochy" period of a relationship and provide insight into what you are really getting into.

Do I regret getting married? That is a huge question. Mostly "no" is the honest answer. I think getting married and then pregnant 2 months later has added to the stress level in our home. And then getting pregnant again 2 years after the first child probably wasn't a brilliant idea either.

I lived alone and supported myself before marriage. After getting married my life was turned totally upside down and quickly.

So, yes, some regret: maybe more on how things have played out. But these are choices I was a part of; no one forced me to do anything.

Kind of rambling today. Perhaps I have had too much UV with the new blonde hair.

In conclusion, dear reader, think before acting. All these books on "go with your gut" and "your first impulse is the right one" are not one size fits all.

"Change of Appearance, Change in Attitude?"

I have naturally very dark brown hair but as time is rolling, the greys are coming more and more frequently. Tonight I went to the stylist, and good friend, I have known for years and said the magic words any hair person wants to hear from a client, "Do what you think looks good."

An hour later I was a stripy blonde.

I was (and still am at this hour) very unsure of how I feel about such a drastic change so I took some pictures (really hard to do) and posted them to Facebook.

After looking at some of the self portraits, I feel a little differently about myself. I look sexy and tousled, and I feel that way too (even though it is past Midnight).

Can something as simple as a hair color change uplift one enough internally? Is vanity good at times?

"The 11 Year Itch?"

This Spring my H and I will have been married 11 years; we dated on and off before that for about 4 years.

I don't know what I expected from marriage (and motherhood) but I feel like I am on a downward spiral lately. I am very grumpy and angry and sad.

Are people's expectations prior to marriage or a long (long) term commitment unrealistic? Are LTRs unrealistic? Does time flex and bend patience and love?

With 4 children (2 with special needs), a mortgage, a 2nd mortgage (packaged these days as "home equity loans") and all the other bullshit which comes with life in general, I feel restless. Confined. Longing for different? More? Less? My old life?

Is this regular housewife/mother thought patterning? Do we all go nutters after a period of time? I have been longing so much for just being. Alone. Out with friends prior to married life. Something not quite formed entirely in my head but I am starting to get tired of the daily grind.

The constant repeating of teeth brushing, hair brushing, lunch packing laundry...

Did mothers and wives in the past just "suck it up?" Do women of my generation want too much out of life? Is is the "11 Year Itch"? Can I get back safely to motherhood fully and a wife?

Even scarier, do I want to?

"Recommended Reading for the Week"

In my last post I mentioned my friend J who recently passed into the great unknown. He was the one in our group of friends who would be the "reading list provider".

Two of the final books he recommended to me are highly recommended to you: "Going Bovine" by Libba Bray and "Very Hard Choices" by Spider Robinson.

My current recommendations for you (in addition to J's) are: "Total Oblivion: More or Less, A Novel" by Alan Deniro and "Interworld" by Neil Gaiman and Michael Reaves.

Enjoy!

"Farewell, Fond Friend"

I was at work, on the late shift, 2 weeks ago when I noticed I had several missed mobile calls. I excused myself from the patient's room and went to a quiet area to return the calls.

"Who's dead?", I asked jokingly.

Wrong question to ask.

My friend of over three decades had been found at home; he had died alone, save his big, furry canine friend. No one had discovered this for days.

That had always been one of my greatest fear when I single and living alone. Sure, I had tons of friends and a great office job, but who really, and how long would it take, for someone to notice your absence?

My friend J was a rare bird. A kind, gentle soul who was more bookwormish than me. He was a perpetual student (was he afraid of the world outside of university? did he enjoy the constant questioning of younger students and peer professors?) will we ever know?

J was kind to my as a child, even allowing me to be on his team when "Trivial Pursuit" came out to the world. I'd like to think as a 12 year old I answered enough questions correctly to do him proud.

The Catholic Funeral Mass was over 2 weeks ago but the "tributes" seem to continue; the emails, the postings on his Facebook page, the family dinners and get togethers...

Can you ever say goodbye properly who was such a large figure in your life? One who shaped parts of you? Your reading lists? Your ways of thinking and re-evaluating the world at large? Challenging your ideas and making you rethink your position on a manner; but in such a gentle, subtle way, it happened before you knew it.

Allons-y, my fair friend. Hopefully there is a perpetual authors' convention and baseball game in the great beyond for you.

You were loved. You are loved. You will be continued to be loved.

"She Split My Face Open!"

"Go upstairs and teach your sister how to use her "Guitar Hero."

D and R go up and after about 12 seconds, the fighting ensues. I sit and listen as it escalates; screaming, possible bodily contact...finally a door slam and a scream of pain (versus the earlier screams of frustration).

D comes flying down the stairs with a bloody nose. Yea.

"What happened", I ask, wiping away the blood in a calm, resigned manner. "She slammed the door and it split my face open!", D says angrily through the blood and tears. "She just wouldn't listen to how I was teaching her and now my face is split W I D E open!!!!"

"Your face is fine; maybe you should stop 'helping' for the night?"

"Fine", D sniffs.

Why is motherhood so messy?

"Mommy, what is a wet t-shirt contest?"

On our way to the market the other day, I drive past a bar with a sign advertising a "Wet T-Shirt Contest". My children ask from the backseat, "Mommy, what is a wet t-shirt contest?"

I sigh a heavy sigh. Do I explain? Do I ignore? Do I jump out of the car while it is still moving?

"Well, it is a contest where women wear white t-shirts and then they get wet so men can see the women's breasts."

3 of my children answered swiftly and decisively. "You do NOT show your privates in public!" "Who would do that?" "That is dumb"

Another child pipes up. "What is the prize?"

Uh oh.

"The sign didn't say, honey."

"What is it usually?" (because they assume, (why? how?) that Mommy has been to such an event)

"I think they hand out money. Why? Would you show your privates for money?", come the words out of my mouth, tumbling into space, wishing I could grab them and shove them back into my mouth.

"Well, $20 isn't enough", declares D., "if it were, like $100, I'd do it."

Her fellow travelers admonish her.

I sigh and wonder if I started drinking when I got home if I would ever be able to stop.