The Knitting Journeyman

Gathering Up One Thread At A Time As I Weave This Web Of Mine.....

Sunday, August 16, 2009

Fine-I Am Stalling

I have a ton of laundry waiting to be folded--and I really need to strip my bed...and it is almost 11 at night.
Am I afraid? Not in the least. :-) Which is why I am sitting here at the keyboard with fingers flying rather than toiling away over the dread laundry.

This weekend was interesting.
After scaring the heck out of me w N and his first day of "official" public school awhile back, the ex this Friday past tells me how this year of school is going to be like N's last year of school--N has been in school all year round for two years now. The kid turns six in September. My mouth is shut there--really.

T said N's day is morning with his regular 'person' there to 'help keep N in line' which means a person to shove N into a little box and turn him into a mindless automaton like every other kid around-learn the test so we can pass you and get the government money while not actually educating you--and yes--I've done the research on St Louis public schools--thanks to the ex hub's whatever he calls her (which is apparently what he still calls her, strangely enough, (his) whatever you call her) --but she actually gave me a great deal of leads on the St Louis public school system...eons ago. Anyway. Mornings for N being shoved into a narrow closed-in box. Afternoons w speech therapy and everything else they do with the --retards (I use term this in the same sense and manner Maria Montessori did in her books--I sure as heck do NOT condone my child being labeled as such--but there is no other way to put it...).

Well, this weekend I proved the kid has issues hearing out of one ear. In front of another adult witness too. And T keeps telling me there is nothing wrong w N's hearing---just like there is nothing wrong w N's teeth, which are rotting literally and visibly right out of his head. It's all me. I know. What do I know?

I watched the ex bully my son while the boy was obviously tired and just as obviously hungry on Friday at the drop off--and I know the stupid man meant well--because he can't see past the nose on the end of his face--he really thinks he's helping--what child when tired and hungry can think straight and "use (his) big boy words" when an adult is standing over top of them using the obey me now or you will be punished voice--that voice of degradation and impending doom that I have tried to tell T about when we were living together....that he is completely clueless as to how he sounds exactly like his own father and I know T hates that man because T always said so....

Now--the kid is currently five yo, ok? On Friday, I told T when N acts like that it usually means he's hungry here--and I asked him when the last time N had eaten was. He told me he had no idea. "Oh, I have no idea." Quote. Unquote.
The kid is FIVE. You have no clue when he last ate!?! A kid with blood sugar issues--like his sister--like his mother--like most people in my family period? like every other AUTISTIC child out there where NUTRITION is such a big deal in helping deal with the AUTISM--and this man, who enjoyed showing me his power over the small child, enjoying putting it to me that this is how you deal with this child, even as I was saying in my nice I'm a stupid dumb blonde please ignore me voice, we usually feed him and that takes care of the whiney-ness issue, has not a CLUE in his head about when the child LAST ATE.

Does anyone else wonder why I keep praying to every god out there to save my child?
Save my kid from good intentions--oh PLEASE! please please please

The man can't tell me how N hurts himself 9 times out of 10.
The man can't tell me when he last ate.
He blows me off when I bring up things like N's teeth.
He takes the kid to the emergency room--and thinks to call me when they go in--and swears he won't forget to call me when they leave--but does forget anyway.
The man who "forgot" to tell me how to order school pics of the kid for myself and my family, because he won't spring for even wallet sized pics for anyone in my family because they don't matter to him because he doesn't like them.
The man who to this day has YET to cough up a disk w the pictures he took of both kids over christmas in 2008--or even jsut email them to me a couple at a time or whatever is easier for him--despite the fact I still ask now and then -- until he gripes at me for asking....because he hates to be reminded by me of all his failures....

Can we say--nuff said?

Saturday was a decent day actually. N was having a rough day--but he's had rough weekends the past couple weeks. Boy ate fine. Boy played fine. Boy had an issue or two, but after we fed him, issues disappeared. I mean that--we fed the boy and his mood did a 180--every freaking time. I am not making this up for the ex's benefit. The boy needs to be fed regularly and more than just three meals a day.
Saturday night. R went home. N asked for a bath as soon as R was out the door. Which is unusual. Usually he plays in the bath water from his sister, who leaves the water in the tub when she's done w her bath for just this reason. Or he gets a bath when I put him in. He rarely asks for a bath himself. Which means--warning flag number one cropped up. So, I run the tub. The tub is full, I turn off the water. Boy gets out. Not all together un-N-like. He does that at times. But he doesn't just lay in the water, or recline in this case, and do nothing, as he did then, warning flag number 2. Usually he plays or messes w stuff or talks to himself. Sometimes he sings, which is cute.
I wrap the boy up in his towel. He crawls into bed. He goes to sleep. Almost immediately. It wasn't that late. I was not entirely unsurprised by how quickly the boy crashed. He'd had a rough time before he got to us, and then we took him out and took him shopping and everything else during the day on Saturday. Not too long after that, as I was busy checking email, the boy sat up and started coughing. Mommy instinct clicked instantly. I grabbed the boy and ran for the bathroom. Where he spent a good ten minutes heaving and puking his guts up.

I clean him up. Wrap him in a fresh towel (just in case). Take him back to bed and tuck him in. He spent the entire night barfing--every hour or so. Not much came out. Mommy instinct is a great thing. I woke up every single time just before he'd barf so I could have the rag and the garbage can ready for him. Last time he threw up was 6a. He slept in til about 9, 930a.

I watch him. I get no information--or at the very best an infinitesimal scant bit of information about the boy or what is going on in his life or world or anything related to anything--I hear alot more about movies and comic books than my kid--from a man who barely speaks to me, except in fits and starts. After watching and talking to N these past few weeks, after watching T and his behaviour (and he is a bully --he stood directly over Nik, looming over him, leaning down and over him--like Snoopy doing his vulture routine, with that harsh demanding unsatisfiable voice of his that is just his dad incarnate)--add into it what I am sure based on things N has said is "big boy school' or going to school like a big boy or something to that effect--N is under way too much stress--add into his lack of sleep (7a to 10/1030p daily according to what T gripes at me to stick to all the time)--his lack of a regular feeding time full of solid food that sticks to him for longer than 15 minutes (yeah-all my nutritional studies and research into grains and Waldorf schools and cooking and everything else are completely without merit--except here where they obviously work --when I can get everyone to eat what I make :-) grr)--all it boils down to is the boy is stressed the heck out and I seem to be the only one who says a thing--but of course T cannot hear my voice when I speak because I am not in agreement w him at all--so he automatically and immediately tunes me out and poo-poos everything and anything I say.

Now--the man said he would agree to putting N in Waldorf school (which would so do wonders for that stress in N--before he becomes as neurotic as T and his family--according to the things T has told me and by T's own admissions--not my own personal opinion or anything-I swear)--I am almost a that point where I can afford to put E and N both in Waldorf schools. So T--watch out--I will fight for this--and you did say if I paid for it it would happen.
Of course, knowing how cheap and lazy the man is, that also means I will be driving and picking up and fetching and carrying--but to get my kid healthy and keep my kid safe--it is worth it.

Ha!

Thank you for listening to my tirade there.

Which leads me to my other bit here--because I so did not intend to get all off-track about T-or N.

I do find it funny, despite the Pavlov dog response to R's presence from N (can we go to dairy queen playground now? the second R walks through the front door), how very attached to R both kids are. It's easier to see in E, especially since R is the one man in her life who has never let her down. But N has been asking for R lately, asking about R. I also think it's kinda telling that N waits til T leaves to ask anything about R. R and T do not like each other, not that T didn't bring that down upon his own head by acting like a child--and T won't forgive R for calling him on his childish behavior. N actually likes R alot more than I've told R too. N can talk and he does talk and he does ask alot of questions. And they are not all related to dairy queen, mcdonalds, shopping or playgrounds when it comes to R.
R has been spending more time here lately, more time on the weekends. The dynamics between everyone is beginning to change now, in what I hope and what I think is a good way. We are taking very deliberate turns towards actually being a family--which I worry about from a variety of angles, no matter what R says. I worry about R taking that role, how he feels about it, especially given N as he is, and the fact that T will be there for awhile, until N is older. And w E probably more needy than I am when it comes to needing a male role model and father figure in her life. I often wish T would not have turned on her the way he did--even before MD. The way he turns on her now. I watch him try to make a play towards including her, trying to talk to her, and she isn't responding much anymore, mostly because she is far more secure w R these days. I think it's pretty sad for both E and T, some days. But T made his choice, whether he cares to admit it or not. And he refuses to see it from any other viewpoint but his own--so there is no changing him or working WITH him. You work around him and in spite of him, but not with him. That's the way he makes it. That's why he and I could never get along. As soon as I tried to be me again after I had N and T couldn't squash me -- I became obsolete and a burden.

This week R got a job offer. Not the best job offer. But a decent job offer. A job he can feel decent about taking while he is still looking for that other job we know is out there. And we all know how to find something, right? As in, I lost my cd, however do I find it, after tearing my entire flat to bits and found nothing? You buy a new one. Don't even have to unwrap the thing either. Voila--old cd pops up out of nowhere. The same thing is going to happen here. He'll take this job, be there maybe a month or so, and boom, that other job he's waiting for will show up and he'll take it--unless his current so so salary, no vacation, sucky benefits done through a temp agency as a contract steps in and says no way are we losing you-not only will we match that, we'll top it--and either way--the man wins. Period.

This also means that no matter how I feel about driving--which means I am going to have to hit the homeopathic remedies for vertigo and other issues-- I am going to have to buy a little car.
Give me something old, made out of real steel. I don't care how many doors it has, so long as it is an automatic. I can learn to drive a stick--I can drive a stick--I am just not confident enough doing it to do it with my children in the car in traffic. And right now, I am not at all confident about driving into traffic at all. The past couple times we've driven across the bridge into St Louis proper, I've wanted to throw up--and I wasn't the one driving.
E and I want to continue our lunches w Kerry every couple weeks. Plus, E and I have a plan to go out and sit in a cafe or coffee shop or something a couple times a week, have a cuppa something and maybe a cookie or something for the small fry--where we can both do our work out of the house and away from things. Which reminds me--I need to order homeschool ID cards for both of us. Going out requires driving, and we wouldn't ask R to do that for us anyway--not as far as he has to drive for us.
So, there's something on our list. And yes, I am doing well enough to buy a car, a much nicer car than the one I am planning, because I don't want a new car--I want a piece of junk that has to be coaxed and talked to and babied. Not to mention, so ugly no one would ever dream of stealing it. haha But yes, I can afford a decent car. I can afford the insurance and the upkeep and the gas. I just don't want to do it because I am still too afraid of traffic and of driving all by myself, especially with my kids in the car.
Not to mention, I really enjoy the time w R, even though I hate having to shop like this and not being able to just go out. Although circumstances have switched up and we are now able to just go and hang out places. We're getting there.

Tuesday, we are taking E canoeing for the very first time. I haven't been in ages, because T hates camping and canoeing and basically from what he told me he hates to be outside in Nature--he hates to be away from a decent bed and he hates to be away from his friends, the tv and the computer. So, no hope for me there. And the other T thought I was just saying I loved to camp and canoe and everything else just to please him--apparently he forgot all the stories about camping and hiking and everything else I used to do before he came into my life. So, it's been awhile.
We're going canoeing for a couple hours on Tuesday. Then we are going to visit the Meramac Caves, as E has never done anything like that either. I don't like being underground and I hate closed in spaces--R assures me Meramac is completely uhm modernized and commercialized. So no need to worry there.

The weekend after we are looking at going away for the weekend, the three of us, R, E and me. This is as close to that week in a cabin alone, w just E with me, as I can get. If it helps, thank goodness. If not, I don't know what I'll do. Except buy a car and drive my darned self.
At least R has reached that point where we can start doing these things together. If I can start getting out and getting away from, ya know--humans and civilization--on a decently regular basis--I might be happier. I will be happier. And more productive. And less likely to lose it when the kid pops up acting like she's 45 instead of 8......

R asked me something the other day. He mentioned something. I don't think he has caught on yet to the fact that he has the unique ability to make one comment, whether seriously or in jest, and my brain catapults off with it into a billion places. He has always had this capacity. I was just alot better about venting the myriad mazes of my mind elsewhere before we were dating.
Something about us not wanting to be here in this house this winter.
What exactly does that mean?
What does it mean when he says I am no longer happy w this house?
I am not happy w the GUESTS in my house--although the electronic thingys do seem to be helping alot in that department. I am also not thrilled w the fact the guy hasn't done the repairs I asked him to do (not R, well, not my R--the other R, the maintenance guy) --as my front window is still busted (it's double paned glass--bird hit the outside one night and broke the outer pane on one front window)--and roofing paper still hangs off the one side of the car port.....but we won't get into any of that...won't talk about the moles who have come back w a vengeance recently...or the fact that it dawned on me recently why things don't really grow all that well around here....
When I moved into this house, I was not expecting to stay in this house for very long. That's not a real leap for me. That's not a big deal for me. At my current rate, and planning for general increases in business as they do keep coming, I will be able to pay someone to pack up the house and move us, without much of an issue.
When the time comes.
But, I don't want to move right now. In fact, I am getting a bit stubborn about it. I am not moving from one freaking suburb to another, so I can go from being surrounded by one group of people to being surrounded by another group of people. Not even for the man I love. I also have no desire to move from IL to MO and have to jump through those homeschool hoops there--because the second I step into MO, T will be all over me. Because I do not live the way he thinks proper--he would see me completely destroyed and E completely destroyed, just because we are not like him. Just because we do things our own way--and we are pretty successful at it too. Especially when he's doing the same thing he's always been doing since I met him--and he has no plans to go anywhere else.

And this segue sucks, but still, thinking about that made me look at Ken, yes, the dog, and think, boy, her butt is growing back in real well these days...I can't justify shaving her for the winter. The only reason I did it this summer was because of the mud and the burs....she'll be looking way too border collie here in a few weeks...and the shedding will not stop...but that's ok too.
Yep--her butt is as big a nuisance as the ex--pretty much a match there...really...

I've had a good week-end. I got alot done. I got a great deal of baking done, which makes me feel better. Found out I need to buy deep cookie sheet style pans like my mother has--so I can make pizza where the crust is not so tremendously thick. Thick is good--but not that thick. :-) It turned out very yummy though. N rolled the dough out himself. And helped put the sauce and the cheese on. All he wanted was cheese, no pepperoni or anything. He ate up his huge piece and quite a bit of mine that I didn't finish. I miss my mother's cooking. But the pizza is a close one there.

I cleaned out alot of stuff. R fixed the one dresser for me, so my living room is in one piece again, Even though the red rug is now in the storage room, until I feel like getting something to really deep clean it, front and back. The living room actually looks bigger, even w the two chairs in there, without the red rug.

R also put together the elliptical cross trainer bicycle for us. The instructions made the job look WAY harder than it was. It's pretty cool. It also proves I am far more out of shape than I thought I was. But this is going to be a big help towards getting me back to where I want to be. And it is quiet, so I can ride it while on a call--if my phone will pick up in the den--sometimes it breaks up there--I may have to get another receiver--I have to look into that....

The den is clean. The kitchen, well, there are dishes, but the table is mostly clear...which I need to be able to mold doll faces...which is coming up here. Probably after we get back from Tuesday.

My dreams are sticking with me in the mornings again. I have more than Esmeree calling to be made permanent on my thigh. I will get a certain name tattooed on me before I get her done though--or maybe at the same time....despite protests from the man so named.
The name is R's name--and I have a strange sort of vindication there--the ex hub wanted his full name tattooed along my thigh--he actually wanted a statement--now he wanted this--while he was still planning w D to move D up from AR to live w him, while he and I were still married--and I refused the tattoo out of hand...this time I am getting a man's name tattooed at the top of my bikini line, whether the man likes it or not (which considering my wrist, ya have to wonder why his first name in a place no one but he will ever see makes ya kinda wonder....)--well, R is a much better man than T...and then again, it would be the third tattoo I got for R, which would create a tripod effect--and that is the most stable and balanced of mechanisms, which is why they use it for camera stands...but now I am starting to get too tired and loopy, so I'll stop there...
There are dolls beginning to speak. NaNoWriMo is coming and apparently my new lead character is coming to me, with whispers and suggestions and full-blown demands. And per the rules of NaNoWriMo, I can't do anything more than take notes.
The journey into Lemuria is coming along, no matter how slowly. There is more than K working there. I have alot to catch up w. Right now I have one story I really want to type up and post to the Hestia blog.....plus, I got in two books this past week, each with nice chapters dedicated to Hestia in them. Plus, with everything else I have going on, incorporating--or in my case more fully incorporating Hestia into our world is actually the path I have become far more willing to take of late.....
My artwork is slowly returning and revolving around my hand. I drew a small piece tonight that actually had to do with Hestia--it needs colour work before i will show it to anyone....but it's getting there.
I am about to take a plunge and make a pledge --rededicate myself-- to the 100 things in 100 days challenge. Only this time I was leaning more towards mandalas. Let me get some other things in line. I still am not comfortable right now drawing...I know it's me and I know where it comes from...I just have to pick up some of my art books again and re-orient myself....

and I think I have killed enough time now that I can toss the clean laundry into a pile to await folding tomorrow morning...and I can curl up for a few minutes w a good this book for writer's book and fall into a sound peaceful sleep...knowing my world is good and all things are perfectly as they should be.....

So -- until well, tomorrow probably...sleep well... peace....