It’s Unfortunate…

 …that I cannot google “what would a normal human do in x situation?” That would be quite helpful at times.

Even Data had Captain Picard. 

At swimming again (we’re doing it until I’m confident L will not drown in most reasonable situations and she just got bumped up a level so - we’re closer). There’s just enough fluorescent lighting and noise and echo that I feel really squirrelly. 

L accidentally left her most prized stuffy at B’s house. We searched high and low and the house has three levels so we did our best but were unable to find Mrs. Monkey-Chawksps (?) and had to leave in order to do things like pick up my parents from the airport. I hope they find her and bring her to school soon. I don’t know how to phrase, “I know we said it was cool but actually it might not be cool? Can we search your mansion for a well-worn pink/purple/blue monkey? That’s all we want to do - I swear. We’re not casing the joint she’s just very attached!” 

Further complicated by not knowing the person very well and not getting the best read on them. It’s probably mostly me. It’s one of those situations where I feel like that Jenny Slade bit where she enters a room and drops a mic down her pants to demonstrate how much dignity her name DOESN’T command. Not all situations are like that l. But this one is.

Hm. That reminds me that I’ve never seen Marcel the Shell With Shoes On the Movie. 

Today I’ve been sending all the emails I meant to send out over the break but didn’t. Bit like shouting into the void, really. But I’m sure it’ll pick back up on Monday.

One of the nifty things about not actively working on assignments during swim lessons includes getting to notice all the fun swimmer hyper mobility types. Your scapulae probably SHOULDN’T be that lax, gang! Put that antecubital fossa back where it belongs! Low-impact sport my ass. Wink.

I have an idea for an Easter-themed burlesque show that I keep forgetting to share with the class and it is: Tease It to Jesus. Maybe this will help me remember.

I hope this helps!

Yours, etc.

If Christmas Is Over, Why Is Candy Cane Lane Still Stuck In My Head?

I'm doing the thing I have to do where I wake up slightly before 6:00 AM to sign up for summer camp. It opens at 6:00 and fills up within 5 minutes so I gotta. It's giving apex predator. The camp was originally going to move the time to 5:30 PM but nobody liked that very much. No, they said. That's inconvenient. So here we all are. Moms in Anchorage.

Update: fucking did the thing! I only signed her up for one week; I'm not one to fly too close to the sun. One week of camp with historical bestie 1 (V), one week of camp with historical bestie 2 (A) and then Horse Camp (assuming grandparents are onboard for taking her/picking her up from that one; it's a bit of a schlep, if still within city limits). Note to self: sort out insurance biz for horse camp (if that happens) since you won't be able to work at Starbucks for that period of time.

S finally made it to Seward ice notwithstanding. So, that's good! He's cocooned in masculine energy (roofing crew) and his best friend. I think that's good. We called him last night.

It was nice to have a chill day yesterday, because today we're not entirely all back on our bullshit - but it's sure a lot closer:

• the adrenaline rush of registering for summer camp first thing in the morning
• eye appointments for both of us this morning (I finally get contacts back! I get to see! Huzzah!)
• school drop-off for L; she gets to go in late as a result of Eye Stuff which is pretty much rock star status in 1st grade
• work for me (I have been tasked with getting a "warm drink" [even though L does not actually like these I think she asks just to be polite] and two cake pops. One for her and one for the gentleman below.)
• picking L up from a playdate with B at his house
• clean out the car?
• a light dinner; maybe we take something over to her grandparents' house? They haven't seen her in a minute
• going to the gym (she wants to go to child watch; they do a pretty decent job and I only ever work out for 30 minutes at a stretch these days so...eh!)
• picking up my parents from the airport

So. While I'm still waking up, let's talk about first-grade crushes. My first-grade crush was on a kid I eventually went to college with. I did not, however, really even exchange two sentences with this dude while at college. I think some of the bloom was off the rose by then and five-year-old me might have been objectifying him a bit. I was all about The Little Mermaid and redheads at the time and this guy had red hair. Probably still does, but we're all getting older so who knows? I'm also fairly certain I just started calling him my boyfriend without ever having had a conversation with him about it (consent! Consent is key!) so I probably just prattled on about how cute he was to my mom, aunts and grandma, had a few playdates where I watched him move green army guys around (scintillating) and then the family moved to Jackson. Mischief managed!

Well, B is one of L's crushes and certainly the one I consider the origin of the most "classic crush" types of behavior and statements from her. And it's kind of funny how the brain gets dopamine from that, you know? But anyway, his mom seems hyper-on board for it and has been nothing but kind and I privately think of her as a "happenin' lady". She keeps trying to set up playdates when I'm on a plane! At work! At lab!, etc. And so she suggested that the au pair (whatever you're thinking - probably, yes) pick them both up from school since I'm working until 4:00 and have a playdate.

This was extremely sick (positive usage), because I didn't want to ask my in-laws to shoulder too many pick-ups this week and felt kind of between a rock and a hard place with work - because as great as my manager is I know she's got limits and it is an evil corporation at the end of the day no matter how many benefits they offer. So hopefully that'll all work out well. I have a bunch of anxiety about it, naturally, but it'll probably be fine. And probably the worst that'll happen is B being exasperated because L doesn't want to play with the 2025 equivalent of green army guys.

Ah, l'amour. 

Okay. Pitter-patter, let's get at 'er.  

Ice Ice Baby

 Sorry. I had to. It's...icy. It went and got too warm this January and now the city is glazed over. I almost couldn't get in my driveway! I had to cling to the side of the curb like a limpet, wait for all the cars to pass (and there are a lot - I live on a main-ish road) and then back up and scooch ever-so-slowly up to the church parking lot across the street. Then wait for my opportunity to turn left! Inch toward my driveway! Turn right! And gun it up the iced-over driveway. Alaska this is bogus. Alaska, this is also better than shoveling half my life away and I guess I'll shut it 'cause that could still happen.

So. Remember all that stuff I wrote about last time? Yes? S spent the evening mulling only to decide that he does not, in fact, think we should separate and Things Were Said. I believe there are two possibilities (okay - more than two, but my brain is pretty black-and-white so): a) discussing separation repeatedly is a tactic to get desired behavior from me. I'm not entirely against this but have spent the last ten years trying to figure out what that behavior might be and there are no Ws in this chat if you know what I mean? So...no? b) changing his mind over the separation might be his way of stalling for when he's more ready. Because - I'll be honest - I have not changed my mind. 

I'm taking this as more time to prepare for when things get extremely cows and barns swirling around in tornadoes. I'm also trying to keep in mind the last phrase I got struck between the eyes with at the end of a yoga class (aka the most vulnerable time in a white millennial woman's day):

"There is the abuse of forcing change on someone who isn't ready to receive it."

Usually they go on about letting the soft animal of your body love what it loves (Oliver, 1986) or seeing the dual nature of light and dark in all things and beings and breath unlocking your parasympathetic response (always good) and that's all well and good. But this seemed a bit pointed and a bit relevant and a bit indicatory that I might need to be okay with ambiguity (oh, great, this again /s) in this situation. And by this situation I mean my life.

We're baaaaaaaaaaack

And boy is it cold. In more ways than one.

I'm in the office as I write this. The boys are gone. A smattering of legos and toiletries that were originally bundled in their Christmas stockings remain. A silver ring my dad made for M embossed with his name,

I feel decimated. I'm not sure the mood tracking app on my phone is going to like that. Did you mean: devastated? No. I didn't.

I asked S if he wanted to have The Talk that he spoke about before we left. Long story short it did not go the way he wanted it to go or thought it would go. I did not, in fact, go to Texas and then come back refreshed and ready for round however many of this cycle we're caught in. I felt okay in Texas - and even for 2/3 of the legs of the trip (which is pretty good considering I don't travel all that well and L is 6.5 years old). I felt like separation does need to happen. That we can't keep hurting each other. That we can't keep doing this. 

Some key takeaways that made me barfy: he would like to see his daughter only every other weekend; I. Cannot. Imagine. Choosing that. My partner saying, "What would you like? Wouldn't you like to see her more frequently?" And - no. Every other weekend. Why? Because he wants to interact with me as little as possible.

This is where I take off my glasses and pinch the bridge of my nose and grimace a bit because this is this man building the same narrative he built around his ex-wife. And this is where I panic a bit too, because I am highly concerned about L's relationship with him and L's relationship with her grandparents. They speak of the ex-wife as a horrendous person. And you know what? Probably not! So, will I fare any better? Probably not!

I want her to have a solid relationship with her grandparents. I want her to have a solid relationship with her dad. I do not want either of us to be on the receiving end of this nonsense where I'm always the bad guy and she's second fiddle to her brothers. They should all be exactly the same fiddle. The same fiddle!

And I just.... Sigh. I am the bad guy, you know? In several senses I am. And then I get told that I don't take responsibility for the things I do that make S sad and - look. I'm pretty fucking sure that I mess up. I'm also pretty sure that at this point in the relationship I'm not going to be able to feel safe again due to numerous and consistently occurring previous events. And here we are in a vicious cycle. I can't even get into all of it. It makes me tired and I've been crying and the sun is setting because it's *checks watch* 4:00 PM.

Point being: S is going to Seward (maybe) for a week or two. It was supposed to be tomorrow, but that got pushed back due to weather. And I'm sitting here journaling because I would like to think it helps.

Take each breath at a time, my mom/teacher inner voice says. He's right. You fucked everything up. What are we going to do?, my teen inner voice says. He's...not right. You're not a person to him. You're a character in a movie. Or a play. I'm sorry you couldn't make this work, but - babe. Could anyone? It's okay. It's going to be okay, my middle-aged self, maybe? Whoever it is they're pretty nice. 

Okay. Be good to yourself and keep it clean, marine (no, I don't know if that's a real saying). 

In Which Crawdads Can Be Fished For Using Lunchmeat

We stayed at my brother's last night for New Year's Eve. We subjected them to watching Matilda, the 90s flick that seriously holds up. The musical version is...just okay? I appreciate the aesthetics and the costuming. I'm totally here for any costuming choice in which the cleavage moves but the bodice doesn't - do you know what I mean? But L really seems to like it. It's joined the pantheon of movie rotation with Leo, The Mitchells versus the Machines, and Barbie.

Visiting my brother has begun to make me feel like the Secular Aunt. Two of my nieces have very firmly decided that they want to ride in the rental Jeep with me whenever we go somewhere as a group. This works out great for L because she loves riding in other peoples' vehicles. But there we are. Windows down on the farm-to-market roads with Black Pink, CHIHIRO, toy box and, on occasion, more sanitized versions of Chappell Roan blaring with my two little Russian Orthodox nieces in the back thinkin' 'bout life. Well, somebody's got to do it.

One of the things I meant to do over vacation was message my aunts for advice about divorce. In all my solitary car rants (highly recommend if your child's not in the car) I keep saying to myself that I just don't know anybody who's gotten divorced! Oh no! But actually, this isn't true. My brain is just on a track that I need to jump in order to get anything new done. Blah. Fine, brain. I guess this is just my note to self to Get That Done.

Otherwise, list for today:

• Nail salon (my daughter is That Girl)
• Eiffel Tower (you gotta)
• Lunch with my parents
• Paris Coffee Company (just because)
• Tha Store (for dinner stuff, caffeine)
• The Cigar Bar (apparently there is one? Apparently more than one?)
• s'mores with cousins
• pass out and get up at 4:30 in the morning LOL

Okay, have the best day you can! It's sunny and nobody's ingested anything poisonous yet, so I'm going to call that a win.

You Only Get One _________

 Sunny day today and low 60s; I never remember this happening when I grew up here. I just remember bitter cold wind. But...no. It's so nice? Climate change? We're in shorts (L) and short sleeves (both of us)? Science - despite the Trump and Vance signs everywhere - rules us all.

We had a sleepover at my brother's house last night (he has a nice little house) and honestly he and G are doing a great job raising the kids; there are some things I have side-eye for (like spanking at all and expecting a four-year-old AMAB to be potty trained overnight [????????]) but they G, at least, is all for accommodations and sensory and developmentally-appropriate.

We stayed up late playing Trine, which was nice. And I got to spend some time with my brother one-on-one which was also nice. This last while picking up dinner in town. The drive times are just so much longer here. The speed limits so much higher. Texas is BIG.

Today we're getting ice cream and coffee, going to the square, the library, and another park.

We went to Wade park yesterday (oh the memories) and it was all great until a group of teens came up and started acting ridiculously toxic masculinity. Like, just, I hate it. It happens everywhere, I guess. I just hate it. And I never know what to do. Go up and talk to them? Open an alternative playground for persons with a bunch of hormones to do whatever and just keep it the fuck away from the littles? *sigh*

Anyway. We're supposed to get together with the cousins this afternoon, and have a burger cookout this evening but I'm not clear on if they think they want to do it at their house or at our Airbnb. If you're reading this and you aren't aware, if you are renting the Airbnb you have to let the hosts know what to expect if there's going to be any tomfoolery, shenanigans or hijinks. Since they haven't let me know if they want me to ask the host yet, I haven't. I'm waiting for the go-ahead. I am super anxiety about asking questions without any clear date of event. So I just [exhale] will be lowkey anxious about it for a little bit, I guess. 

Unless it's the Celsius. I brought a Celsius to my brother's house to drink this morning, and good thing I did because there was a potty accident right off the bat lol.

Had a dream last night that I was married to D instead of S and I was trying to figure out how to address all the problems going on with that. Then I had a strange third front tooth that turned green and I had to go get it extracted [sigh].

Hope your Monday is good, and your Tuesday is better.

This IS Texas; AND it's Hold-'em

We made it to Paris! Well, somewhere outside of Paris close-ish to Powderly the night before last. 6 hours of plane, 2 hours of driving, and some time in-between to eat a little dinner and pickup a Target order just in case we'll need chicken nuggets - which we will.

The cottage is beyond cute and it's still Christmas here; there's a Christmas tree nestled in the corner of the living room, a cozy fake fire, and antiques that are classic North Texas strewn throughout. It's so, so quiet; there's a pond and squirrels scooting around, and a trail that we're going to explore this morning after I've had a chance to journal (this), finish my coffee, and take a bubble bath in the claw-footed bathtub (lifelong dream: realized). 

I feel...relaxed. It's good to see my brother and his sweet angel of a wife who helped me out when I got stuck in the mud when leaving their house last night waaaaaaay too late at night. I'm sick and taking Dayquil/Nyquil religiously and so I feel tongue-tied, but it's been very nice getting to connect with my SIL. I hope we're not an imposition. It feels worrisome, sometimes. You know?

We watched Inside Out 2 last night when we got home and yes - the anxiety is strong. In me, in you, in all of us.

I've tried FaceTiming S at least once a day since we've landed with no response. He asked if we could FaceTime yesterday, but reception is very spotty at my brother's house, so there was no way it could work. I tried calling him again when we got back to the cottage around 6:00 PM Alaska Time. No answer.

I'm lowkey sad about that; less for me, more for L. 

I cried a bit on the plane. Airports are a good space for me to process thoughts and feelings. I've been putting it off for ages, but at the airport in-between Security and the flight boarding I managed to book an appointment with Lyra, get headphones for L, and haphazardly obtain four stuffies to give to her cousins as belated Christmas presents. 

The flights and transitions were...stressful. But better than they would have been if S was there, I guess? I have to assume it's me. It's hard for me to feel like I'm supported in stressful situations unless the other person has really confirmed over and over again that they have my back. And I can certainly see how that might not be the most rewarding use of a person's time, if that makes sense?

I'm still terrified about what the prospect of separating might look like. But I guess I know what I need to do. Cry, process, journal, therapy, just be there for my kid. Get her resources. Get a new phone/phone plan. Start the un-enmeshing process. Find a storage unit, etc. It's probably better that it happen now, in the Spring, than in the Summer or Fall. Because I'm not necessarily going to be able to have the type of flexibility needed to accomplish any of the (unknown) things I'm going to need to accomplish during this Whole Thing.

And also, one day in not me being like, "What would it be like being closer to my brother? L's cousins?"

Okay, enough of that for today. We have a property to explore, ice cream to eat, dinner to obtain, and a second-largest Eiffel tower in the world to gawk at (again).