Life is pretty good. Isaiah had a band performance the past two days, so even though I had Friday off, and today is Saturday, we went into Iola. Its a 40 minute drive, which can be ugh some days. On the one hand, having to be up early and home late blows. On the other hand, most of that is due to Isaiah having early morning band practices or late evening cross country practices. Cross country ended this week (THANK YOU GOD) and marching band season is about over too.
Today's performance was a parade at Farm City Days, its a town festival that Iola puts on. Small towns here all have one or two a year and they are all about the same. There's a parade with three different farm implement stores represented, along with three high schools, two 4-H clubs, the antique tractor club, the saddle club and a few banks and one politician. Aside from the parade, there is a carnival, that I didn't take my kids to because I think they are over-priced and dangerous, and several booths. The crafter booths were not great, most of them were not hand made at all, pampered chef doesn't count, neither do those sprakled and bedazzeled purses. The food venders were mostly fundraising operations by boy scouts (OMG did you see where two scout "masters" ruined a rock formation?) and church youth groups. We did find one booth that looked like it wouldn't poison us. The little dudes had smoked turkey legs (SO GOOD) I got a pulled pork wrap, should have gotten the leg. All, in all, a small event, but a fun one.
Yesterday wasn't as much fun. Iola built a new hospital and the band was invited to play before the puhbahs spoke. It was chilly, it was almost rainy, the speakers didn't know how to make themselves heard, and went on too long. I tried to make the dudes be quiet and respectful, but we got cold, so we went and waited in the car, where it was much warmer.
Tomorrow, we may be bringing home a lab pup. We are going to go meet her and see if she seems like a fit. She was abandoned by Chris's uncle's farm house, and he already has more dogs than is healthy. She seems pure bread and very good.
So, about this Cruchiness. We have the farm. We've got chickens averaging 3 eggs a day, six today, so I expect that number to increase as the girls hit sexual maturity. We've got the cow set to birth at the End of November, after which she will be a milk cow. Now for a new adventure: Laundry soap.
It started in the clearance isle at Wal-Mart. We found several bottles of 105 oz seventh generation laundry detergent marked down to $9, great deal. So we bought it and have really enjoyed using it. Well, we are almost out, and there is none to be had at Wal-Mart or the dollar store (which are our options here), so instead of buying another, less septic and grey water safe, brand, I'm going to try to make laundry soap. I ordered Borax, washing soda, and a laundry bar online, should be here by Wednesday.
Cost basis should be less (I priced seventh generation online, $30 for the same size container), and I think the toxicity should be similar or less. Looking at the laundry soap recipe got me thinking about my mom's soap making. I think I want to try to make some Castille soap.
She made lots of different soaps with elaborate scents and additives. Most were nice. But my favorite has always been mild Castille. I like it best if its been fully cured and then remilled and had scent or oatmeal added then. The soaponification process takes a few weeks to fully finish, and during that time the essential oils added for scent are altered as well. I know if the soap is allowed to cure, and for castille that's like two months, and then slowly melted on a double boiler, and then the scents are added, you don't get that issue.
I also want to rig our waste water so that the washing machine drains into a grey water cistern, now it drains into the septic tank. If we convert over to homemade soaps, shampoos, dish and laundry soaps, then most of our waste-water should be perfectly safe for reuse in a garden. Not sure about water for animals. I'm leaning towards "no" on that, but I think its done some places.
We also have a healthy compost pile started. Horses and cow are great for that, we also put organic kitchen waste out there.
Thinking about starting a winter Garden. There are those online who claim that brassicas (Cabbage, broccoli, Kale) do just fine in chilly weather and even into februrary. Not sure I buy that, but my pumpkins, which started out so glorious, were a total bust. I had three. One the size of a volley ball, one the size of a baseball. The squash rotted into black nastiness on the vines. The vines themselves withered and dried spontaneously. I think it was a combination of a fungal pathogen and bugs. I fully plan to try again next year. But need to know more about cucinoid pathology first.
How cool would it be to be able to make and sell natural cleaning stuff, and grow enough food to keep us fed and then some to sell also?
But, Alley, I thought you liked teaching?
I LOVE teaching. The problem is, right now I don't teach much. I am a "co-teacher" in a district that puts not responsibility to co-teach on their teachers. Most of the time, I sit in the back of the classroom and wait to be invited to speak. I've been doing a practicum with a lad who teaches at the elementary level, she's said that she thinks she may be retiring (sad, she's wonderful) and that she feels like I would be great to step into her program. It wouldn't break my heart. I feel secondary school is very important, but I have come to the conclusion that I am a $42K para who happens to write IEPs. I feel like I am wasting my talent. Which may be why I have the fantasy of building a sustainable little farm out here.
Chris is focusing on school, so he isn't working. I support this idea. And he isn't slacking off. But its stressful because we are living off my income, but we both have different ideas of what should be spent where. I think we need to be preserving money for Christmas. He thinks we need to fully prepay the propane based on what was spent last year. I think we need to look at updating our cookware, he wants to buy hay. I think we have ten acres that can be grazed down most of the year, and that the hay we have will be enough if we don't over feed. But if the hay is there, they won't go graze, they'll sit by the hay and beg, or break into it.
Anyway, that's about all I have right now. Band, band, and more band. Little dudes are doing great also, and we are going Crunchy a step at a time.
Saturday, October 19, 2013
Wednesday, October 9, 2013
Just the usual
I am unmotivated these days. I have the desire to write or to study, but not the follow through. I know I should be more on top of things.
I'm overwhelmed. We moved 40 miles away from my job this summer. It's a hassel to get up and around every morning and I take the kids with me. I'm a teacher and I'm pulling rank and putting my kids in school where I work. I think my life would be easier if they went to the district we lived in, but I probably would see less of them.
My oldest, Isaiah, decided he wanted to be an involved student this year. All through middle school he didn't show a bit of interest in joining clubs or trying sports, not he does band, which meets at seven in the morning every other day, and cross country, which runs until six at night most nights. He is enjoying it and I think its good for him. He isn't the best academic student, but I stay on top of his grades and I think I'm going to check out a set of textbooks to keep at home so he can't pull this, "I forgot all my stuff" crap when I tell him he needs to be doing some homework in the evenings. He turns fifteen Saturday. Where did the time go?
I've been trying to complete my last class for my master's degree. I think my brain is deflating or something because it isn't going well. I have to do a practicum for elementary special education. I don't have anything in particular against elementary, but I like high school. Its almost two hours a day away from my own work site and students and planning. I feel torn. And the lady I'm observing is a great teacher, but I feel like she didn't understand what I needed when she agreed to do this and is now feeling put out.
My caseload at work dropped, so every new kid that comes into the building is mine for a while. I like kids, but I HATE the meetings. This year, between some interesting characters in the district, and my practicum, scheduling is a nightmare. I break out in hives at least once a week.
I am loving being on the farm though. It's a tiny farm compared to most around here, ten acres, but my chickens are giving me eggs and we have a milk cow. She's pregnant now, so not actively milking yet. Life is actually pretty good. Just so much going on. I need to learn how to really relax and let it go when its time to let it go. That's new for me. I've spent years being so single mindedly focused on getting to where I wanted to be, I don't know how to slow down a little bit, but not too much, and enjoy it.
I'm overwhelmed. We moved 40 miles away from my job this summer. It's a hassel to get up and around every morning and I take the kids with me. I'm a teacher and I'm pulling rank and putting my kids in school where I work. I think my life would be easier if they went to the district we lived in, but I probably would see less of them.
My oldest, Isaiah, decided he wanted to be an involved student this year. All through middle school he didn't show a bit of interest in joining clubs or trying sports, not he does band, which meets at seven in the morning every other day, and cross country, which runs until six at night most nights. He is enjoying it and I think its good for him. He isn't the best academic student, but I stay on top of his grades and I think I'm going to check out a set of textbooks to keep at home so he can't pull this, "I forgot all my stuff" crap when I tell him he needs to be doing some homework in the evenings. He turns fifteen Saturday. Where did the time go?
I've been trying to complete my last class for my master's degree. I think my brain is deflating or something because it isn't going well. I have to do a practicum for elementary special education. I don't have anything in particular against elementary, but I like high school. Its almost two hours a day away from my own work site and students and planning. I feel torn. And the lady I'm observing is a great teacher, but I feel like she didn't understand what I needed when she agreed to do this and is now feeling put out.
My caseload at work dropped, so every new kid that comes into the building is mine for a while. I like kids, but I HATE the meetings. This year, between some interesting characters in the district, and my practicum, scheduling is a nightmare. I break out in hives at least once a week.
I am loving being on the farm though. It's a tiny farm compared to most around here, ten acres, but my chickens are giving me eggs and we have a milk cow. She's pregnant now, so not actively milking yet. Life is actually pretty good. Just so much going on. I need to learn how to really relax and let it go when its time to let it go. That's new for me. I've spent years being so single mindedly focused on getting to where I wanted to be, I don't know how to slow down a little bit, but not too much, and enjoy it.
Sunday, September 1, 2013
Parent Hate
So I find myself in a tight situation. As I teacher, I find myself feeling the need to defend the teaching profession. Teachers work hard with kids they only have a few hours a day. By the time you take out passing periods, meals, and transitional times in the classroom, kids probably spend less than half the school day fully engaged in learning activities. Our students come to us unfed, unclothed, from homes where parents are gone all hours partying or gone all hours working multiple jobs. Kids come to school after being told that they will be 18 next week and they need to move out. Kids come from homes in which they get a new step parent and step siblings every couple of years. And teachers are expected to not only keep order in a room of 25 or more of these kids, they are expected to take these kids from broken homes where cable TV is the only technology available, in a town with two large employers, both of whom are factories manufacturing widgets in sweltering, deafening conditions for barely more than minimum wage, and we are expected to render these kids ready for 21 century jobs. For a global economy.
And then as a parent I find myself listening to teachers bash parents that don't "Have enough discipline at home" as though all hours should be strictly regemented and managed. These teachers blame their lack of ability to control a classroom on chaotic homelives. They point to silly commercials featuring out of control, chaotic or loud families or TV shows like Family Guy as examples of how the American Home Life has decayed.
And I'm sorry, but that's bullshit. A decent teacher can keep order in a classroom. It doesn't require removing a sense of fun, nor does it require yelling at or belittling children. It certainly doesn't require cherry picking children from the "best" families.
It takes setting clear examples. It takes picking rules that are easy to enforce and cover all basis. It takes being willing to stop everything and reinforce the expectations before trying to move on
And then as a parent I find myself listening to teachers bash parents that don't "Have enough discipline at home" as though all hours should be strictly regemented and managed. These teachers blame their lack of ability to control a classroom on chaotic homelives. They point to silly commercials featuring out of control, chaotic or loud families or TV shows like Family Guy as examples of how the American Home Life has decayed.
And I'm sorry, but that's bullshit. A decent teacher can keep order in a classroom. It doesn't require removing a sense of fun, nor does it require yelling at or belittling children. It certainly doesn't require cherry picking children from the "best" families.
It takes setting clear examples. It takes picking rules that are easy to enforce and cover all basis. It takes being willing to stop everything and reinforce the expectations before trying to move on
Saturday, July 27, 2013
Masochist?
So I am thinking about applying to a doctoral level educational program to either go into straight administration or special education research and administration.
Part of it is because I never feel like I actually know enough and part of it is pure ego and selfishness. I think I'm stuck where I am. I have applied to move out of special ed and especially out of co-teaching for three years and for three years I've had great interview experiences and then not been offered a job. I'm beginning to think that my current level of education and experience make me too expensive to hire. If I were applying for administrative positions, I'm still expensive, but not so much more than anyone else applying for the job.
If I had a doctoral degree, I could do anything from run the whole organization to assist. Or I could keep my current position. (They'd have to offer me a raise with additional education, but they can't fire me for going out and getting smarter).
I'd also have an opportunity to examine the systems in place and try to make them better, at least while I was working on research projects. To be able to go into these poor, rural communities with high levels of children labeled at disabled and see how the needs of these families can be better served, how these kids can be better served, is exciting to me. A lot of work has been done in urban areas with all service schools that were made the center of the entire community, offering three meals, medical checkups, serving as clothing and pantries; the results were very exciting. I'd like to investigate if similar results would happen in a rural setting.
I'd like to work on making things better for co-teaching. Right now it blows. Veteran gen ed teachers can completely block the coteacher's ability to accomplish much in "their" classroom. If I were in high level administration, I couldn't force anyone to do anything, but I could do a better job of making sure that the troops on the ground knew what was expected, that they were being watched, what legal requirements must be met when serving disabled and disadvantaged students.
I could go into straight research. More needs to be done with secondary education of students with mild disabilities. Realistic transition services need to be more emphasized and there needs to be significant time and funding applied to making sure this population is ready for the "real world". Too many aren't. Too many end up drawing a government check for life.
There are huge down sides too. Like the money it would take. I'm already $100,000 in debt to student loans. Its such a crazy high number I don't even look at it. I'm a little exhausted of my current program, which I will finish this fall (YAY!) But I think part of that exhaustion is the fact that the program was poorly designed with three complete practicums that are identical in tasks required, just different ages of kids involved. Since I started, the university has redesigned it. They won't let me change to the new program, if they would, I'd be finished.
I'm thinking long term here. Finish this fall with the elementary level practicum. Talk with my direct supervisor, who is the sweetest man, about my thoughts and see what he thinks. Spend the next year, maybe two, seeking out opportunities to be a leader in my current position and polishing up my resume and networking with my local administrators. If I still want to go for this in a year, or two, I will. If I don't, then I will have made buddies with the admins, who tend to intimidate me. (I should probably get over that, huh?)
Part of it is because I never feel like I actually know enough and part of it is pure ego and selfishness. I think I'm stuck where I am. I have applied to move out of special ed and especially out of co-teaching for three years and for three years I've had great interview experiences and then not been offered a job. I'm beginning to think that my current level of education and experience make me too expensive to hire. If I were applying for administrative positions, I'm still expensive, but not so much more than anyone else applying for the job.
If I had a doctoral degree, I could do anything from run the whole organization to assist. Or I could keep my current position. (They'd have to offer me a raise with additional education, but they can't fire me for going out and getting smarter).
I'd also have an opportunity to examine the systems in place and try to make them better, at least while I was working on research projects. To be able to go into these poor, rural communities with high levels of children labeled at disabled and see how the needs of these families can be better served, how these kids can be better served, is exciting to me. A lot of work has been done in urban areas with all service schools that were made the center of the entire community, offering three meals, medical checkups, serving as clothing and pantries; the results were very exciting. I'd like to investigate if similar results would happen in a rural setting.
I'd like to work on making things better for co-teaching. Right now it blows. Veteran gen ed teachers can completely block the coteacher's ability to accomplish much in "their" classroom. If I were in high level administration, I couldn't force anyone to do anything, but I could do a better job of making sure that the troops on the ground knew what was expected, that they were being watched, what legal requirements must be met when serving disabled and disadvantaged students.
I could go into straight research. More needs to be done with secondary education of students with mild disabilities. Realistic transition services need to be more emphasized and there needs to be significant time and funding applied to making sure this population is ready for the "real world". Too many aren't. Too many end up drawing a government check for life.
There are huge down sides too. Like the money it would take. I'm already $100,000 in debt to student loans. Its such a crazy high number I don't even look at it. I'm a little exhausted of my current program, which I will finish this fall (YAY!) But I think part of that exhaustion is the fact that the program was poorly designed with three complete practicums that are identical in tasks required, just different ages of kids involved. Since I started, the university has redesigned it. They won't let me change to the new program, if they would, I'd be finished.
I'm thinking long term here. Finish this fall with the elementary level practicum. Talk with my direct supervisor, who is the sweetest man, about my thoughts and see what he thinks. Spend the next year, maybe two, seeking out opportunities to be a leader in my current position and polishing up my resume and networking with my local administrators. If I still want to go for this in a year, or two, I will. If I don't, then I will have made buddies with the admins, who tend to intimidate me. (I should probably get over that, huh?)
Wednesday, July 17, 2013
Uninspired
It is sad, but true. I have had less and less desire to write lately. I don't know if its a sign of anything other than another era of my life, but it is undeniable that a few years ago I was writing lots, and daily and now I write very little. And not just blogging. I used to write short stories. They were terrible and often stopped abruptly.
I look back at that time of my life and the thing that sticks out is how lonely and unfulfilled I was. I was working as a para, a job a monkey could do really, with no sense of importance or mission. It was just a job to me. I lived in low income housing, I hated it. I was surrounded by idiots, drug users and child abusers. One time I saw a girl slam her baby into a seat and called and reported it. I can't prove it, but I think she or her friends vandelized my apartment after that. Someone sure broke in and took groceries and made an even bigger mess of the place. I had no car and had to walk or get rides to work, the store and appointments. I used to use Isaiah's red wagon to go to the grocery store. I once had social service show up when I chastized a "friend" who backed out of giving me a ride to the next town to shop at a grocery store. I told her I was basically out of food because I'd been planning on the ride. Her response was to send the social workers.
I could go on, but my point is that I had no real friends, no power and no sense of control over my life and environment. I wrote as a way of engaging my mental capacities and ranting and wailing at the world. I think it worked. I didn't take up drinking or drugs, I didn't seek unsuitable crowds in an attempt to solve my lonliness. I used my writing to explore possibilities and work out what to do with my life.
I say it worked because I am no longer stuck in low income housing. I am a teacher, and loving it, instead of a disillusioned and under paid para. I have local and internet friends. I have a driver's liscence and car and drive A LOT. Some days I just drive to be driving. But so much as I used to. I have a life partner that I may or may not actually marry. In other words, life is good.
Another difference between my "now" and my "then" is my level of busy-ness. During the school year I am on the go from about 7am to 7 pm, just with work and kid hauling. After that, there is cooking, cleaning, homework for kids, activities. We recently moved to a rural property several miles out in the country. I LOVE IT OUT HERE! But with that comes more yard work, gardening, home improvement, and animal care. (I have a flock of chickens and Chris has a couple of horses)
I'm not saying life is all daisy chains. I am still frustrated with my co-teaching situation. I've applied and applied for more traditional teaching positions, but it isn't happening for some reason. I have theories ranging from my being overly educated and too expensive to hire to one of my references being rotten. Until my "Dream" position shows up, I plan to be fully dedicated to the position I am in.
Chris and I have been living together for a year. Its hard in a way I couldn't quite imagine when I was single, or even when I was dating but not living with. I love him and he loves me and we are both committed to maintaining a life long relationship.
I don't think this is the end of my blogging. I tend to run to my blog when ever I am upset, I'm sure a review would reveal a lot of melodrama and very little else. But I think its safe to say that regular posts are a thing of the past.
I look back at that time of my life and the thing that sticks out is how lonely and unfulfilled I was. I was working as a para, a job a monkey could do really, with no sense of importance or mission. It was just a job to me. I lived in low income housing, I hated it. I was surrounded by idiots, drug users and child abusers. One time I saw a girl slam her baby into a seat and called and reported it. I can't prove it, but I think she or her friends vandelized my apartment after that. Someone sure broke in and took groceries and made an even bigger mess of the place. I had no car and had to walk or get rides to work, the store and appointments. I used to use Isaiah's red wagon to go to the grocery store. I once had social service show up when I chastized a "friend" who backed out of giving me a ride to the next town to shop at a grocery store. I told her I was basically out of food because I'd been planning on the ride. Her response was to send the social workers.
I could go on, but my point is that I had no real friends, no power and no sense of control over my life and environment. I wrote as a way of engaging my mental capacities and ranting and wailing at the world. I think it worked. I didn't take up drinking or drugs, I didn't seek unsuitable crowds in an attempt to solve my lonliness. I used my writing to explore possibilities and work out what to do with my life.
I say it worked because I am no longer stuck in low income housing. I am a teacher, and loving it, instead of a disillusioned and under paid para. I have local and internet friends. I have a driver's liscence and car and drive A LOT. Some days I just drive to be driving. But so much as I used to. I have a life partner that I may or may not actually marry. In other words, life is good.
Another difference between my "now" and my "then" is my level of busy-ness. During the school year I am on the go from about 7am to 7 pm, just with work and kid hauling. After that, there is cooking, cleaning, homework for kids, activities. We recently moved to a rural property several miles out in the country. I LOVE IT OUT HERE! But with that comes more yard work, gardening, home improvement, and animal care. (I have a flock of chickens and Chris has a couple of horses)
I'm not saying life is all daisy chains. I am still frustrated with my co-teaching situation. I've applied and applied for more traditional teaching positions, but it isn't happening for some reason. I have theories ranging from my being overly educated and too expensive to hire to one of my references being rotten. Until my "Dream" position shows up, I plan to be fully dedicated to the position I am in.
Chris and I have been living together for a year. Its hard in a way I couldn't quite imagine when I was single, or even when I was dating but not living with. I love him and he loves me and we are both committed to maintaining a life long relationship.
I don't think this is the end of my blogging. I tend to run to my blog when ever I am upset, I'm sure a review would reveal a lot of melodrama and very little else. But I think its safe to say that regular posts are a thing of the past.
Sunday, June 9, 2013
My best Friend/ My biggest Fear
So, long time, no blog. Been busy. Been "happy". Been having a definite lack of drive to write anything.
I love Chris so much. So much. Can't even explain how much. I love how he giggles when something strikes him as funny, like he is surprised to be laughing. I love how his eyes sparkle when he's happy or having a good time. I love how he has a plan for what he wants to do and works at it until it is finished, even when the process is annoying to me.
But, and there is always a but, isn't there.
There are things I hate about him. Which is hard, because it is hard to hate something you love. I hate that he thinks he is entitled to have his way in all things, especially if he is paying for it. And even when he isn't. I hate that he deals with emotions by drinking. I hate that when he has a problem, he pretends it isn't a problem until he can't anymore. I hate that when he is mad at himself or hurting over something else, he deals with it by striking out at those of us he claims to love. I hate that he is so enfatuated with nice things that he lets concern for them become more important to him than how he treats us or makes us feel.
I know that this is a big, scary list of things I dislike. And the following is even scarier. And I think its going to sound really bad, because it makes so little sense.
It started three weeks ago. We moved. He finally got the cash dispersement from his gramma's estate and we looked and looked at houses before buying ten acres in rural kansas with a single wide trailer on it. I know, "trailer trash". But to be out in the country, to have enough space to garden, have a horse or three, let the kids run and play, shoot at targets, it was too great to pass up.
Moving sucked, doesn't it always? Between the two of us, we had too much crap for this smaller house. But I knew it was coming and was prepared to get rid of some things. He seemed to be also.
So we get moved. We start to get things put away and arranged. And then the rest of his grammas estate needs to be dealt with. The physical property like furniture and clothes.
At this point, things get weird. He got in a hurry. Left on the third, took his stepdad with him, came back with a 20 foot uhaul on the fifth. And it was FULL. Antiques, boxes of photos, trunks full of clothes and blankets, all jumbled together. Trash literally mixed with treasure. There was no way all of it could possible fit into this house.
Maybe, MAYBE, if we got rid of even more stuff we had already owned, we could fit some of it in. And that's IF, we wanted it all in. Some of it was/is HIDEOUS. Orange-red high backed chairs and matching footstool? No thanks. All of it smelled like old people and pot (his grama lived her final years in colorado, the stuff was sitting in a house his stepbrothers lived in all winter).
So, any way, it was here, I wasn't thrilled, tried to be supportive and make the best of it. It sat in the truck for a few days, he'd rented it for longer than the trip took, but we finally had to empty it and take it back. I really tried to get him to rent a storage unit somewhere. For at least a few weeks until the house could be put together and stuff sorted. He didn't want to. Was very glib about the fact that it would be fine on the deck with a roll of plastic over it.
It wasn't fine. It rained last night. The plastic blew off the stuff almost immdiately. Add to that, the fact that Christopher stayed up all last night. Past of it was that he was snoring and I elbowed him to stop. Part of it was that he was in a nasty mood over the stuff and the rain and was up drinking.
That's how he handles his feelings. He stays up all night and drinks. By the morning, he's usually rearranged or reorganized something and worked out his feelings. Often times he goes to bed and sleeps all day and is fine. Sometimes his mood just stays nasty. He picks at people and things, basically taking his nasty mood out on those around him.
There have also been times that his drinking resulted in nasty fights between the two of us. I'm hard headed. I won't let something drop, especially when I'm a bit drunk myself. This morning was the worst it has ever been.
He was already upset over his gramma and her stuff, I get it, grief makes you crazy and in weird ways. In addition to having been up all night drinking and moving that stuff around, he was without sleep, mad about it and had taken an ambian.
Then Isaiah came in with the news that a chicken had been killed. Chris came out of that bedroom like his ass was on fire. He was mad and he was set on killing the dog. In front of the rest of us.
A verbal arguement started. He called me nasty names and was basically a monster. Gizmo was handled roughly and tossed around unkindly. Isaiah and Chris were nose to nose. The little boys were in tears. I was screaming. I got the car keys, my phone and purse together. Stashed all but the phone in the car. Told the boys to get in the car. Got the other animals in the car with them. Chris and Isaiah were still face to face by the dog pen, with Gizmo still in it. Neither Chris nor Isaiah were backing down. I tried to call 911. The phone froze up.
I fumbled. Chris yelled that it was legal to kill a pet that killed a chicken. I told him to prove it. He snatched the phone and smashed its screen on a rock in the yard. I tried to grab it back, but it was too broken to work.
Chris and Isaiah were still face to face. I picked up a rock out of the yard and held it up. I told him he could move or get a rock in his face. His face cleared a little. He backed up. Isaiah got the dog. We got in the car and left.
I drove the ten miles to the nearest gas station. Got their phone. Called 911. Made a report. Did my best to be accurate and not embelish the situation. The deputy said it was a must arrest report. After we were done taking, he went and interviewed Chris here at the house and took him to jail.
I drove the kids on in to Parsons. The little dudes didn't have shoes. Noah didn't have a shirt. i had four animals in the car, along with us. I was trying not to sob.
My cousin wasn't home. My aunt was at a church retreat. So I did the only thing I could think of. I took the kids through the McDonalds drive through and then to Walmart. Isaiah stayed in the car with the kids and animals. I bought a new phone on a pre-paid plan with a new number. And fix - a - flat and a pet crate.
The fix - a - flat was for my Mazda it is sitting in Chris's mom's driveway. I've been driving a ford freestyle that we bought for the all wheel drive capabilities with plans to sell the Mazda.
The deputy stopped by after we got home. Took some pictures. Asked some follow up questions. Chris apparently tried to get me arrested for driving off in the ford. We bought it together, he can't do that.
He also can't kick us out of this home. We choose it and moved in together. He can take me to court and try. I've decided I'll fight it. I've also decided that if he will commit to 100% all the time sobriety, no alcohol ever, no ambian, no sleep aids, and if he will come to couple's counseling of some sort with me, I'm willing to work on it.
I still love him. I love him, but this is not okay. Running over my feelings in things relating to our home and then taking the consequences of his poor planning out on us is not okay. Threatening to kill my son's dog is not okay.
I love Chris so much. So much. Can't even explain how much. I love how he giggles when something strikes him as funny, like he is surprised to be laughing. I love how his eyes sparkle when he's happy or having a good time. I love how he has a plan for what he wants to do and works at it until it is finished, even when the process is annoying to me.
But, and there is always a but, isn't there.
There are things I hate about him. Which is hard, because it is hard to hate something you love. I hate that he thinks he is entitled to have his way in all things, especially if he is paying for it. And even when he isn't. I hate that he deals with emotions by drinking. I hate that when he has a problem, he pretends it isn't a problem until he can't anymore. I hate that when he is mad at himself or hurting over something else, he deals with it by striking out at those of us he claims to love. I hate that he is so enfatuated with nice things that he lets concern for them become more important to him than how he treats us or makes us feel.
I know that this is a big, scary list of things I dislike. And the following is even scarier. And I think its going to sound really bad, because it makes so little sense.
It started three weeks ago. We moved. He finally got the cash dispersement from his gramma's estate and we looked and looked at houses before buying ten acres in rural kansas with a single wide trailer on it. I know, "trailer trash". But to be out in the country, to have enough space to garden, have a horse or three, let the kids run and play, shoot at targets, it was too great to pass up.
Moving sucked, doesn't it always? Between the two of us, we had too much crap for this smaller house. But I knew it was coming and was prepared to get rid of some things. He seemed to be also.
So we get moved. We start to get things put away and arranged. And then the rest of his grammas estate needs to be dealt with. The physical property like furniture and clothes.
At this point, things get weird. He got in a hurry. Left on the third, took his stepdad with him, came back with a 20 foot uhaul on the fifth. And it was FULL. Antiques, boxes of photos, trunks full of clothes and blankets, all jumbled together. Trash literally mixed with treasure. There was no way all of it could possible fit into this house.
Maybe, MAYBE, if we got rid of even more stuff we had already owned, we could fit some of it in. And that's IF, we wanted it all in. Some of it was/is HIDEOUS. Orange-red high backed chairs and matching footstool? No thanks. All of it smelled like old people and pot (his grama lived her final years in colorado, the stuff was sitting in a house his stepbrothers lived in all winter).
So, any way, it was here, I wasn't thrilled, tried to be supportive and make the best of it. It sat in the truck for a few days, he'd rented it for longer than the trip took, but we finally had to empty it and take it back. I really tried to get him to rent a storage unit somewhere. For at least a few weeks until the house could be put together and stuff sorted. He didn't want to. Was very glib about the fact that it would be fine on the deck with a roll of plastic over it.
It wasn't fine. It rained last night. The plastic blew off the stuff almost immdiately. Add to that, the fact that Christopher stayed up all last night. Past of it was that he was snoring and I elbowed him to stop. Part of it was that he was in a nasty mood over the stuff and the rain and was up drinking.
That's how he handles his feelings. He stays up all night and drinks. By the morning, he's usually rearranged or reorganized something and worked out his feelings. Often times he goes to bed and sleeps all day and is fine. Sometimes his mood just stays nasty. He picks at people and things, basically taking his nasty mood out on those around him.
There have also been times that his drinking resulted in nasty fights between the two of us. I'm hard headed. I won't let something drop, especially when I'm a bit drunk myself. This morning was the worst it has ever been.
He was already upset over his gramma and her stuff, I get it, grief makes you crazy and in weird ways. In addition to having been up all night drinking and moving that stuff around, he was without sleep, mad about it and had taken an ambian.
Then Isaiah came in with the news that a chicken had been killed. Chris came out of that bedroom like his ass was on fire. He was mad and he was set on killing the dog. In front of the rest of us.
A verbal arguement started. He called me nasty names and was basically a monster. Gizmo was handled roughly and tossed around unkindly. Isaiah and Chris were nose to nose. The little boys were in tears. I was screaming. I got the car keys, my phone and purse together. Stashed all but the phone in the car. Told the boys to get in the car. Got the other animals in the car with them. Chris and Isaiah were still face to face by the dog pen, with Gizmo still in it. Neither Chris nor Isaiah were backing down. I tried to call 911. The phone froze up.
I fumbled. Chris yelled that it was legal to kill a pet that killed a chicken. I told him to prove it. He snatched the phone and smashed its screen on a rock in the yard. I tried to grab it back, but it was too broken to work.
Chris and Isaiah were still face to face. I picked up a rock out of the yard and held it up. I told him he could move or get a rock in his face. His face cleared a little. He backed up. Isaiah got the dog. We got in the car and left.
I drove the ten miles to the nearest gas station. Got their phone. Called 911. Made a report. Did my best to be accurate and not embelish the situation. The deputy said it was a must arrest report. After we were done taking, he went and interviewed Chris here at the house and took him to jail.
I drove the kids on in to Parsons. The little dudes didn't have shoes. Noah didn't have a shirt. i had four animals in the car, along with us. I was trying not to sob.
My cousin wasn't home. My aunt was at a church retreat. So I did the only thing I could think of. I took the kids through the McDonalds drive through and then to Walmart. Isaiah stayed in the car with the kids and animals. I bought a new phone on a pre-paid plan with a new number. And fix - a - flat and a pet crate.
The fix - a - flat was for my Mazda it is sitting in Chris's mom's driveway. I've been driving a ford freestyle that we bought for the all wheel drive capabilities with plans to sell the Mazda.
The deputy stopped by after we got home. Took some pictures. Asked some follow up questions. Chris apparently tried to get me arrested for driving off in the ford. We bought it together, he can't do that.
He also can't kick us out of this home. We choose it and moved in together. He can take me to court and try. I've decided I'll fight it. I've also decided that if he will commit to 100% all the time sobriety, no alcohol ever, no ambian, no sleep aids, and if he will come to couple's counseling of some sort with me, I'm willing to work on it.
I still love him. I love him, but this is not okay. Running over my feelings in things relating to our home and then taking the consequences of his poor planning out on us is not okay. Threatening to kill my son's dog is not okay.
Saturday, March 23, 2013
Ignore most of what I typed
Below. It was a rant, that doesn't make it untrue. Just makes it more of a purge than anything else. I'll try to have a calm conversation with im.
Which is hard. He never wants to hear it. Which is that part that is actually getting old.
Which is hard. He never wants to hear it. Which is that part that is actually getting old.
Expectations
I feel more and more lately that my voice is being discounted. Like I don't really count all that much. If I don't agree with something, I'm just being obstinate and wrong. Like if I don't just follow along with whatever it is, I am going to be left behind. I am a place holder. None of the unique attributes that make me an individual matter. I could be any generic female.
Example: We are looking at houses. He wants to move back to PK to be near his mom. She is so important in his life that he will drop work, blow me off and ignore anything I want in a home to be near to or to please her.
I do not want to go clean my mother in law's house. She is not crippled and her husband gets around even better than she does. He could vacuum and dust if it makes her lungs act up. I went to PK to attend a cousin's baby shower. He said he would clean his mom's house while I was doing that. But when we got back to her house, he hadn't even started. Then he expected me to help him.
Is that normal? I don't think so.
They were talking about what houses we were interested in. She keeps saying we need five bedrooms so she can come stay over. We are moving into the same town she lives in, why should we make sure we have room for her to stay? Shouldn't we be looking for a quality house for the money we have? Shouldn't the house's major attributes, like heating, air, structure, electric, roof and plumbing be ranked above "has room for guests?"
But when I say, "hey, lets talk about these guests", I'm the bad guy. And I didn't say no guests ever, I said I don't want it to be constant and I don't want to be on the hook for feeding and housing a bunch of people I don't know while I am also trying to raise my kids and handle work. I don't think that's unreasonable to want to be sure these people know they need to go home.
He wants to move "to a ski resort" when his mom dies. She has COPD, it will eventually kill her. But we don't know when. In the mean time, the kids are in school, I have a career I'd like not to sabotage, and he can't even finish one semester of nursing prerequisit classes.
And then she's grilling him about classes and she asks, with me sitting right there, if he needs to move in with her (meaning out of here, breaking up this little family we've tried to create) so that he doesn't have to worry about work or bills and he can just focus on class.
Uhm, hello? Is that not just about the rudest thing ever?
Here's a thought, if he did live in PK, he'd spend every night out drinking with people he looks down on ( admits he doesn't want to live like they live and doesn't want their activities at his home), he'd sleep in every day with a hang over, and he'd still not be finishing any classes.
But I'm the super bitch with I want to bring up that we kind of had a deal. He'd make progress on his classes, get into nursing school, get some better potential for jobs and income, and I'd work on the baby making issues.
He gets so irate with me, and drops all these thinly veiled threats that if I don't get pregnant in a year, on my own dime, that he's going to leave me. But I can't point out that he's still indulging in self destructive behaviors like blowing off his classes or going out partying with a bunch of trashy pot heads and being too hung over to focus on the classes he is supposedly there to deal with.
But I'm the one with problems. I'm the one in the wrong because my idea of an evening out is more that standing around in some garage full of stupid stoners. And I'm the one in the wrong when some fucking idiot gets offended at nothing and starts picking a fight.
Please.
If you are so obcessed with having more money, lets start with not hanging around with trash. I don't care if we knew them ten years ago. If whats her face can't meet up somewhere not full of trash people, maybe she isn't that great a friend. Not until she wants you to buy her a new phone. Oh, what? The government would pay for her to get a low income cell phone? But we are paying for it anyway? Why? Oh, right, so you get to feel important.
And all this shit I have to eat because I have no vote and no voice, not really. Clean clean clean. Chores chores chores. that's really all I hear anymore.
What ever, I mean, nothing is perfect. But shit. I make good money. What ever we end up doing, I'm the one who will be paying for it all. I can't afford to commute and pay a house payment. And I can't trust him to stop throwing away opportunities to go party.
And I am so tired of feeling like I am at the bottom of his list. Mom has a doctor's appointment, he's prepared to miss three days of work. I have a family thing, he can't go because of a cold]. Whatsherface lets her asshole ex-boyfriend back in the house and he breaks her phone, he's on it to try to recover her pictures. I pay almost $100 for materials to fix my laptop, it sits there for months until I dig out a video on youtube to try to repair it. His mom can't clean her house, no problem, he'll do it. My house is never clean enough for him.
I really do feel like a place holder. Any woman would do. He doesn't want a partner in his life, he wants a dumb door mat who will pay the bills and agree with him all the time.
But I'm the superbitch.
Example: We are looking at houses. He wants to move back to PK to be near his mom. She is so important in his life that he will drop work, blow me off and ignore anything I want in a home to be near to or to please her.
I do not want to go clean my mother in law's house. She is not crippled and her husband gets around even better than she does. He could vacuum and dust if it makes her lungs act up. I went to PK to attend a cousin's baby shower. He said he would clean his mom's house while I was doing that. But when we got back to her house, he hadn't even started. Then he expected me to help him.
Is that normal? I don't think so.
They were talking about what houses we were interested in. She keeps saying we need five bedrooms so she can come stay over. We are moving into the same town she lives in, why should we make sure we have room for her to stay? Shouldn't we be looking for a quality house for the money we have? Shouldn't the house's major attributes, like heating, air, structure, electric, roof and plumbing be ranked above "has room for guests?"
But when I say, "hey, lets talk about these guests", I'm the bad guy. And I didn't say no guests ever, I said I don't want it to be constant and I don't want to be on the hook for feeding and housing a bunch of people I don't know while I am also trying to raise my kids and handle work. I don't think that's unreasonable to want to be sure these people know they need to go home.
He wants to move "to a ski resort" when his mom dies. She has COPD, it will eventually kill her. But we don't know when. In the mean time, the kids are in school, I have a career I'd like not to sabotage, and he can't even finish one semester of nursing prerequisit classes.
And then she's grilling him about classes and she asks, with me sitting right there, if he needs to move in with her (meaning out of here, breaking up this little family we've tried to create) so that he doesn't have to worry about work or bills and he can just focus on class.
Uhm, hello? Is that not just about the rudest thing ever?
Here's a thought, if he did live in PK, he'd spend every night out drinking with people he looks down on ( admits he doesn't want to live like they live and doesn't want their activities at his home), he'd sleep in every day with a hang over, and he'd still not be finishing any classes.
But I'm the super bitch with I want to bring up that we kind of had a deal. He'd make progress on his classes, get into nursing school, get some better potential for jobs and income, and I'd work on the baby making issues.
He gets so irate with me, and drops all these thinly veiled threats that if I don't get pregnant in a year, on my own dime, that he's going to leave me. But I can't point out that he's still indulging in self destructive behaviors like blowing off his classes or going out partying with a bunch of trashy pot heads and being too hung over to focus on the classes he is supposedly there to deal with.
But I'm the one with problems. I'm the one in the wrong because my idea of an evening out is more that standing around in some garage full of stupid stoners. And I'm the one in the wrong when some fucking idiot gets offended at nothing and starts picking a fight.
Please.
If you are so obcessed with having more money, lets start with not hanging around with trash. I don't care if we knew them ten years ago. If whats her face can't meet up somewhere not full of trash people, maybe she isn't that great a friend. Not until she wants you to buy her a new phone. Oh, what? The government would pay for her to get a low income cell phone? But we are paying for it anyway? Why? Oh, right, so you get to feel important.
And all this shit I have to eat because I have no vote and no voice, not really. Clean clean clean. Chores chores chores. that's really all I hear anymore.
What ever, I mean, nothing is perfect. But shit. I make good money. What ever we end up doing, I'm the one who will be paying for it all. I can't afford to commute and pay a house payment. And I can't trust him to stop throwing away opportunities to go party.
And I am so tired of feeling like I am at the bottom of his list. Mom has a doctor's appointment, he's prepared to miss three days of work. I have a family thing, he can't go because of a cold]. Whatsherface lets her asshole ex-boyfriend back in the house and he breaks her phone, he's on it to try to recover her pictures. I pay almost $100 for materials to fix my laptop, it sits there for months until I dig out a video on youtube to try to repair it. His mom can't clean her house, no problem, he'll do it. My house is never clean enough for him.
I really do feel like a place holder. Any woman would do. He doesn't want a partner in his life, he wants a dumb door mat who will pay the bills and agree with him all the time.
But I'm the superbitch.
Monday, March 11, 2013
Better
Isn't is amazing how things can go from awful to great in just a few days? I almost wonder if some of either feeling aren't all in my mind. I think I am overly sensitive to any issue related to either possibile dishonestly, possible using of me, and possible ass-hatery. I suspect this is because I have so many lying, using, and ass -hate acting men in my past.
I could recount it all. Contrast those situations in which my mom, my dad, and both my brothers lifted money off me and then claimed no one had. Or how The Ass Hat would twist things around. How the Other One clearly used me for a warm bed, groceries, and a ride.
But I don't need to. I know Chris isn't like any of them. Not really. Yes, he has used substances in his past and recently had an adverse drug interaction happen that could have been much scarier. Yes, he makes less than I do at the moment. BUT, he doesn't hide clear liquor in soda cans and drink all day like my dad used to. He doesn't pitch an absolute fit when I can't accommodate his wants within my resources.
I also seem to have trouble with remembering that when it is "that" time of the month, everything seems awful to me. I try to be aware of that in the moment, but when I am caught up in it, it all feels so absolute.
Tonight he had an evening class and when he came home, Gideon ran up to him, gave him a big, dangling hug, and said, "I love you, daddy". It was spontaneous on his part and almost low key in the way he did it. But I know it was a big deal to both of them. Gideon has always ached for a father. And I think Chris was a little hurt when he moved in and couldn't immediately fill that role in their minds.
Things were rough. I won't lie. You can't combine households like that without some wrinkles. And I feel that things may get rough again. I sometimes question my own sanity and motivations. I think that comes from having grown up with a crazy person and an addict as my parents. When normal doesn't live here in your childhood, its hard to recreate it as an adult.
I could recount it all. Contrast those situations in which my mom, my dad, and both my brothers lifted money off me and then claimed no one had. Or how The Ass Hat would twist things around. How the Other One clearly used me for a warm bed, groceries, and a ride.
But I don't need to. I know Chris isn't like any of them. Not really. Yes, he has used substances in his past and recently had an adverse drug interaction happen that could have been much scarier. Yes, he makes less than I do at the moment. BUT, he doesn't hide clear liquor in soda cans and drink all day like my dad used to. He doesn't pitch an absolute fit when I can't accommodate his wants within my resources.
I also seem to have trouble with remembering that when it is "that" time of the month, everything seems awful to me. I try to be aware of that in the moment, but when I am caught up in it, it all feels so absolute.
Tonight he had an evening class and when he came home, Gideon ran up to him, gave him a big, dangling hug, and said, "I love you, daddy". It was spontaneous on his part and almost low key in the way he did it. But I know it was a big deal to both of them. Gideon has always ached for a father. And I think Chris was a little hurt when he moved in and couldn't immediately fill that role in their minds.
Things were rough. I won't lie. You can't combine households like that without some wrinkles. And I feel that things may get rough again. I sometimes question my own sanity and motivations. I think that comes from having grown up with a crazy person and an addict as my parents. When normal doesn't live here in your childhood, its hard to recreate it as an adult.
Friday, March 8, 2013
Define "deserve"
So, I've been thinking about this idea that we deserve this or that. We deserve respect. We all deserve kindness and compassion not matter what. But do we deserve lots and lots of material things?
That, I'm not so sure about. I wish I could say that part of the appeal of being in a romantic relationship wasn't the fact that it all wouldn't be on me. But, asmuch as I love him, I am afraid that chris is going to at least leave me with all the financial responsibility. He says he wants to go to nursing school, but he's blown off the last few semesters of school. If he can't finish a few low level courses (remedial math, English, Biology), how does he think he can do nursing school?
And, if he is otherwise loving and supportive, do I have any business feeling like he needs to be able to make more money? I make ok money, we aren't going to starve to death without extra income. I do know I will resent it if I end up having to cover his expenses. Our deal now tends to be that I pay him $100 for my share of the phone bill and he contributes a couple of hundred for his share of the rent and groceries. I don't count every penny he contributes, but I know it seems like as soon as he is paid,, he pays his bills and he has less than $100 left for gas and cigarretes, and his share of expenses. I know he likes kitchen stuff and technology as much as I do, but I am not great at being generous to adults.
I'm not sure what my point is, other than that nothing ever turns out the way we intended it and as adults, we should be able to accept that. At the same time, I never wanted to be the bread winner again. I'm not sure how to balance the idea that we are equals with the fact that he wants certain things, that it looks like I am going to be on the hook to pay for.
I'm rambling, its because I didn't think all this out before I started writing. But I'm still thinking its good to try to get all out.
That, I'm not so sure about. I wish I could say that part of the appeal of being in a romantic relationship wasn't the fact that it all wouldn't be on me. But, asmuch as I love him, I am afraid that chris is going to at least leave me with all the financial responsibility. He says he wants to go to nursing school, but he's blown off the last few semesters of school. If he can't finish a few low level courses (remedial math, English, Biology), how does he think he can do nursing school?
And, if he is otherwise loving and supportive, do I have any business feeling like he needs to be able to make more money? I make ok money, we aren't going to starve to death without extra income. I do know I will resent it if I end up having to cover his expenses. Our deal now tends to be that I pay him $100 for my share of the phone bill and he contributes a couple of hundred for his share of the rent and groceries. I don't count every penny he contributes, but I know it seems like as soon as he is paid,, he pays his bills and he has less than $100 left for gas and cigarretes, and his share of expenses. I know he likes kitchen stuff and technology as much as I do, but I am not great at being generous to adults.
I'm not sure what my point is, other than that nothing ever turns out the way we intended it and as adults, we should be able to accept that. At the same time, I never wanted to be the bread winner again. I'm not sure how to balance the idea that we are equals with the fact that he wants certain things, that it looks like I am going to be on the hook to pay for.
I'm rambling, its because I didn't think all this out before I started writing. But I'm still thinking its good to try to get all out.
Sunday, February 24, 2013
I should be glad, but . . .
Isaiah has developed an disconcerting habit of staying up late and playing on the computer and then sleeping all day. I swear its a male thing. I could name several guys who seem to gravitate into this pattern. Only one actually works nights, and he could sleep at work, but still ends up napping during the day and staying up all night. My step brother, The Vampire, has it down to an art form, and since my dad and his wife allow him to live with them, rent free and with no expectations that he will even get a job, move out, be productive, he has it down to an art form. Aggressive computer game play and snacks all night, sleep like the dead all day. I don't know what he's going to do when his parents retire or go into old age. I am certainly not going to support his ass, and if my dad gets to the place that he needs care or gets assistance, I am going to make damn sure that leech comes no where near him.
Anyway, now Isaiah has the same obsessions. On the one hand, I could write it off. Its mostly weekends he does this (although if I don't shut down the modem and server when I go to bed, there's a 50% chance he will be up all night), and he tends to be quiet and make minimal messes. The only reason I knew he'd done it this morning is that I found evidence that he fried some tortillas into chips.
Anyway, it bugs me. Chris is less than supportive about it. He's a night owl himself, but he tends to want to treat Isaiah more like an 18 or 20 year old who lives at home than like the 14 year old boy who doesn't have the sense to get to bed in time to be rested for school, and who happens to be failing English. I'm not sure if Chris's attitude is that way because he grew up in such a permissive environment or if he just doesn't have enough parenting experience to see it as a problem. Probably both.
I know we both grew up in warped household situations. But I feel like sometimes Chris can't look at how messed up things were and make the choice not to repeat it. Knowing how permissive, dismissive his mom was when we were little, and looking now at how strict she wants to be with my boys when she is in gramma mode, I don't get it. As children Chris and I were allowed to play alone for hours, wandered from one end of Parsons to another, climbed on the roof of his house and explored gnarly timber areas and abandoned homes. We broke into him mom's car one time because there was nothing for him to eat in the house and we thought there was some cash in there. When he went to his father's, things were just as weird, but in a different way. By the time we were preteens, Chris was smoking, selling pot and running with a group so into anything scary and shocking and I basically ended our friendship. I felt like I could see where things were going and they weren't pretty.
And they weren't pretty. He spent time homeless. He made a short career of things I consider beyond menial, stocking groceries and cleaning houses. He's totaled multiple cars. Then he was drawn into being a caregiver to his wealthy gramma ( who I think is the driving force behind all the pathology in that family, they worship money, guns and drugs) and spent a lot of what should have been his most productive years doing that. And now she's passed, which if you have ever seen anyone with dementia, you know that's a blessing for everyone, but the issue of her estate wont rest. I don't know what the issue is, but it seems like every time there is a delay or something, it opens up the grief again.
I don't know how it is that I grew up just as messed up. Mom who could be loving and taught me so much, but could also snap and toss us down a flight of steps, destroy a newly remodeled porch, scream at our friends' parents in the street for no reason, sleep for days in the depth of depression, take all kinds of pills to block out her feelings, knock you down and kick you in the ribs, and then be sweet as pie a half hour later. Why am I not a completely non-functional mess? I have that same temper, and it gets me sometimes, but I've never hurt my kids. (broke a window . . . )
The only think I can think is that I was the oldest sibling. I HAD to keep the others quiet so we wouldn't get it. I HAD to make sure I was up in time to get us all out the door to school. To me school was a relief and a safe haven from the insanity. I don't think Chris was ever in the position of protecting his siblings because in Parsons, he was the only child, and when his dad did remarry, the siblings were teens. The neglect was more in the form of too much permissiveness than in the form of perceived danger towards himself if he drew attention. When he wanted to make extra money, he did in ways that make me so sad. But he thinks it was just a fun time in his life. When he wanted to drop out of school, he bullied his mother into permitting it. She changed her mind and got social services to make him take college classes, but he didn't pass many because he didn't want to be there. Eventually he moved West and I lost track of him for years.
And now we have this relationship that I want so badly to work, but I wonder . . . . I know I've never been "normal" but I've always wanted safety and stability in my life. Adventures need to be planned. I think he's still a thrill seeker who jokes about driving cars off mountains while drunk likes its no big deal, just this funny thing that inconvenienced him for a few months.
I dunno, maybe I need to not worry so much. But I wish I felt more like he had the same goals as me. When we talk about it, sometimes he does, home, land, gardening to grow produce, establishing solar and wind . . . , then other times, he's like "I want to live in a gated community". This money worship I don't like it. It corrupts and contaminates.
Should probably delete all of this. He reads the blog. And I still don't know what to do with Isaiah. Playing computer games isn't a bad thing. Becoming obsessive about them is. Cooking one's own snack is great, bt frying in the middle of the night with no adult up isn't safe.
Anyway, now Isaiah has the same obsessions. On the one hand, I could write it off. Its mostly weekends he does this (although if I don't shut down the modem and server when I go to bed, there's a 50% chance he will be up all night), and he tends to be quiet and make minimal messes. The only reason I knew he'd done it this morning is that I found evidence that he fried some tortillas into chips.
Anyway, it bugs me. Chris is less than supportive about it. He's a night owl himself, but he tends to want to treat Isaiah more like an 18 or 20 year old who lives at home than like the 14 year old boy who doesn't have the sense to get to bed in time to be rested for school, and who happens to be failing English. I'm not sure if Chris's attitude is that way because he grew up in such a permissive environment or if he just doesn't have enough parenting experience to see it as a problem. Probably both.
I know we both grew up in warped household situations. But I feel like sometimes Chris can't look at how messed up things were and make the choice not to repeat it. Knowing how permissive, dismissive his mom was when we were little, and looking now at how strict she wants to be with my boys when she is in gramma mode, I don't get it. As children Chris and I were allowed to play alone for hours, wandered from one end of Parsons to another, climbed on the roof of his house and explored gnarly timber areas and abandoned homes. We broke into him mom's car one time because there was nothing for him to eat in the house and we thought there was some cash in there. When he went to his father's, things were just as weird, but in a different way. By the time we were preteens, Chris was smoking, selling pot and running with a group so into anything scary and shocking and I basically ended our friendship. I felt like I could see where things were going and they weren't pretty.
And they weren't pretty. He spent time homeless. He made a short career of things I consider beyond menial, stocking groceries and cleaning houses. He's totaled multiple cars. Then he was drawn into being a caregiver to his wealthy gramma ( who I think is the driving force behind all the pathology in that family, they worship money, guns and drugs) and spent a lot of what should have been his most productive years doing that. And now she's passed, which if you have ever seen anyone with dementia, you know that's a blessing for everyone, but the issue of her estate wont rest. I don't know what the issue is, but it seems like every time there is a delay or something, it opens up the grief again.
I don't know how it is that I grew up just as messed up. Mom who could be loving and taught me so much, but could also snap and toss us down a flight of steps, destroy a newly remodeled porch, scream at our friends' parents in the street for no reason, sleep for days in the depth of depression, take all kinds of pills to block out her feelings, knock you down and kick you in the ribs, and then be sweet as pie a half hour later. Why am I not a completely non-functional mess? I have that same temper, and it gets me sometimes, but I've never hurt my kids. (broke a window . . . )
The only think I can think is that I was the oldest sibling. I HAD to keep the others quiet so we wouldn't get it. I HAD to make sure I was up in time to get us all out the door to school. To me school was a relief and a safe haven from the insanity. I don't think Chris was ever in the position of protecting his siblings because in Parsons, he was the only child, and when his dad did remarry, the siblings were teens. The neglect was more in the form of too much permissiveness than in the form of perceived danger towards himself if he drew attention. When he wanted to make extra money, he did in ways that make me so sad. But he thinks it was just a fun time in his life. When he wanted to drop out of school, he bullied his mother into permitting it. She changed her mind and got social services to make him take college classes, but he didn't pass many because he didn't want to be there. Eventually he moved West and I lost track of him for years.
And now we have this relationship that I want so badly to work, but I wonder . . . . I know I've never been "normal" but I've always wanted safety and stability in my life. Adventures need to be planned. I think he's still a thrill seeker who jokes about driving cars off mountains while drunk likes its no big deal, just this funny thing that inconvenienced him for a few months.
I dunno, maybe I need to not worry so much. But I wish I felt more like he had the same goals as me. When we talk about it, sometimes he does, home, land, gardening to grow produce, establishing solar and wind . . . , then other times, he's like "I want to live in a gated community". This money worship I don't like it. It corrupts and contaminates.
Should probably delete all of this. He reads the blog. And I still don't know what to do with Isaiah. Playing computer games isn't a bad thing. Becoming obsessive about them is. Cooking one's own snack is great, bt frying in the middle of the night with no adult up isn't safe.
Tuesday, February 5, 2013
Kinda like I can't breathe
Had a fight with Chris. Something caused the wooden portion of one of his guns to blister. It looks like moisture damage. He is blaming me for it. He says that either one of my cats peed on it, or I put it away wet and didn't say anything.
When he first showed me the damage, he wanted some sort of reaction that I didn't give him. I didn't immediately say it was my fault, express the desire to harm my cats (who may or may not be responsible for it) or offer to fix it.
I was sorry that had happened to it. I did and do think that things like that are beyond frustrating. But I wasn't the one who put it away, he was. I wasn't the last person to handle it, he was. Could it be cat? Maybe, but I think even a cat would have had a hard time getting to the very bottom at the very back of a closet, and then squeezing behind a heavy storm window.
Anyway, royal assholery ensued. He's great at throwing around the silent treatment and snapping viciously at me, my son and the animals. I have to hound him to get him to even let me know what his problem is. Which is when he demanded that I not only pay for all the damage to the gun, but give him gas money to take it to Wichita to be serviced.
I agreed to paying for the damage, but that, of course, didn't stop the nasty attitude. Insults followed. I'm lazy. I'm filthy. I don't bother to train my animals or properly care for them or the kids. Lazy and stupid were thrown around a lot.
This is the first time since we've shacked up that I seriously considered how I'd get rid of him. We've argued before. But this aspect of him is a new one. Its one thing to be upset that something is damaged. Its another thing to use that to then insult my character, dredge up shit that happened months ago, lay blame. He says I don't spend enough money on him. That he spends lost of money on me and I stiffed him at christmas.
Of course, he has expensive tastes. Can't get him sunglasses, he wants the $300 dollar kind and interchangable lenses. Can't get him pants. He preferrs to wear 32s even though he can't fasten them. If bought 34s and had to return them, even though with a belt they were fine.
Can't just get him a weather radio, must get the 200 dollar one with solar panels and a reciever that picks up frequencies used by aircraft.
I got him pants. And a weather radio with an outdoor sensor that would predict the weather. And an electric blanket.
Its Februrary now, I don't know why its being brought up. I make 2700 dollars a month, I combined car insurances and phone accounts with him. Somehow I am always short by the end of the month, but I still give him money for the phones. He hasn't ever given me money for the car insurance.
He wants me to have a baby with him. I've kinda been on board with the idea. I like babies. But he blows off school and his court ordered classes at the drop of a hat. He used his emotions to manipulate me. And now he's insisting I hand him money over an accident. He also wants us to move to Parsons. But doesn't want me commuting, so I need to find a new job. These are all things I've been assigned. As far as I can tell, his only assignment is learning to live with my messiness, which isn't there anymore because in order to get any relaxing time with him, the house must be spotless. Its easier to just clean it and hope he can declare it done than to do my own thing and hope he gets tired of picking up what's already been picked up and wiping what doesn't need wiped.
Anyway. we made up last night. I still feel chilly towards him today. I am going to try to give him some space and avoid any more conflict while my feelings are so up in the air. If this relationship doesn't work out, I really am done trying. I get along with myself just fine.
When he first showed me the damage, he wanted some sort of reaction that I didn't give him. I didn't immediately say it was my fault, express the desire to harm my cats (who may or may not be responsible for it) or offer to fix it.
I was sorry that had happened to it. I did and do think that things like that are beyond frustrating. But I wasn't the one who put it away, he was. I wasn't the last person to handle it, he was. Could it be cat? Maybe, but I think even a cat would have had a hard time getting to the very bottom at the very back of a closet, and then squeezing behind a heavy storm window.
Anyway, royal assholery ensued. He's great at throwing around the silent treatment and snapping viciously at me, my son and the animals. I have to hound him to get him to even let me know what his problem is. Which is when he demanded that I not only pay for all the damage to the gun, but give him gas money to take it to Wichita to be serviced.
I agreed to paying for the damage, but that, of course, didn't stop the nasty attitude. Insults followed. I'm lazy. I'm filthy. I don't bother to train my animals or properly care for them or the kids. Lazy and stupid were thrown around a lot.
This is the first time since we've shacked up that I seriously considered how I'd get rid of him. We've argued before. But this aspect of him is a new one. Its one thing to be upset that something is damaged. Its another thing to use that to then insult my character, dredge up shit that happened months ago, lay blame. He says I don't spend enough money on him. That he spends lost of money on me and I stiffed him at christmas.
Of course, he has expensive tastes. Can't get him sunglasses, he wants the $300 dollar kind and interchangable lenses. Can't get him pants. He preferrs to wear 32s even though he can't fasten them. If bought 34s and had to return them, even though with a belt they were fine.
Can't just get him a weather radio, must get the 200 dollar one with solar panels and a reciever that picks up frequencies used by aircraft.
I got him pants. And a weather radio with an outdoor sensor that would predict the weather. And an electric blanket.
Its Februrary now, I don't know why its being brought up. I make 2700 dollars a month, I combined car insurances and phone accounts with him. Somehow I am always short by the end of the month, but I still give him money for the phones. He hasn't ever given me money for the car insurance.
He wants me to have a baby with him. I've kinda been on board with the idea. I like babies. But he blows off school and his court ordered classes at the drop of a hat. He used his emotions to manipulate me. And now he's insisting I hand him money over an accident. He also wants us to move to Parsons. But doesn't want me commuting, so I need to find a new job. These are all things I've been assigned. As far as I can tell, his only assignment is learning to live with my messiness, which isn't there anymore because in order to get any relaxing time with him, the house must be spotless. Its easier to just clean it and hope he can declare it done than to do my own thing and hope he gets tired of picking up what's already been picked up and wiping what doesn't need wiped.
Anyway. we made up last night. I still feel chilly towards him today. I am going to try to give him some space and avoid any more conflict while my feelings are so up in the air. If this relationship doesn't work out, I really am done trying. I get along with myself just fine.
Thursday, January 31, 2013
Thoughts
I should have gotten a high end laptop instead of a mid end desk top last year.
I like kindle fire, but its not much use for anything that requires typing. The desktop seems to be so far away from the comfort of my room or the living room, that I don't spend any time on it.
I am typing this on an ancient laptop. I took this thing to an inservice a few months ago and it was embarassing. That's right, I was embarassed of my computer.
Not sure what else to type.
Work is still frustrating, but the administrators are not on my back anymore. They say my job is more than safe, that everyone enjoys working with me and my performance is great. But I still want another job.
Its the co-teaching. I love working with the kids, presenting information and assessing how well they've learned. Right now I don't get to do that really at all. I spend my time sitting in the back of the room watching the other teacher present the information and take the questions. When the lesson is presented, I get to mosey over to the kids I work with and watch them do the assigned work.
There are days I really don't have anything to do. I cover some classes multiple times. So If I was in Biology on a blue day, I know everything that's coming on the Gold day. I can't even occupy myself with taking notes. Some days the the teacher takes questions and answers them inaccurately because it isn't his area. He doesn't hardly let me speak in his room, and I'm not going to contradict him in front of his class, so I get to sit and listen to this information being presented poorly, inaccurately, and confusingly.
Other days I am in a physical science classroom trying to help students solve speed and vector problems and 90% of the students in the room refuse to accept my assistance, even though I know this shit.
I think it might be partially an ego thing. And I think I am going to be okay with knowing it was an ego thing. But you know what, it was ego that drove me to decide that I was going to continue to finish my education instead of dropping out and working at a fast food joint, or walmart, or factory.
I could have done that and between my pay and state benefits we probably would have been okay. I would have worked too hard, been tired and miserable, but it was the easier option.
Applying to new jobs will suck. I will have to tell Amanda, my good friend here in town, that I am looking to move on. But I think if I stay here, I will become more and more unhappy and miserable.
Life at home is pretty good. Chris and I go around every now and then. I am not going to claim that life is smooth sailing at all times. I am a bit of an easy-going type who likes to let chores wait until the weekend, clean it all up in a day, and then ignore it again for a week. Chris is one who can't seem to settle in and relax with the family if anything is out of place. There are evenings when I am tired and out of gas and I just want to relax with the kids, but Chris wants to spic and span the kitchen and the bathroom and is so busy going through things and organizing that the only time we are both sitting at the same time is the 15 minutes we spent eating dinner.
There are times I feel like he would rather spend time running around making things look perfect than spend his time with the family. Sometimes I can shrug and do my own thing and wait it out, but there are other nights that it really hurts my feelings that he wont share the work and then call it done and he isn't willing to not do it until it isn't kids and family time. There are times he gets frustrated with me because messes don't bug me unless they are smelly or super annoying.
I like kindle fire, but its not much use for anything that requires typing. The desktop seems to be so far away from the comfort of my room or the living room, that I don't spend any time on it.
I am typing this on an ancient laptop. I took this thing to an inservice a few months ago and it was embarassing. That's right, I was embarassed of my computer.
Not sure what else to type.
Work is still frustrating, but the administrators are not on my back anymore. They say my job is more than safe, that everyone enjoys working with me and my performance is great. But I still want another job.
Its the co-teaching. I love working with the kids, presenting information and assessing how well they've learned. Right now I don't get to do that really at all. I spend my time sitting in the back of the room watching the other teacher present the information and take the questions. When the lesson is presented, I get to mosey over to the kids I work with and watch them do the assigned work.
There are days I really don't have anything to do. I cover some classes multiple times. So If I was in Biology on a blue day, I know everything that's coming on the Gold day. I can't even occupy myself with taking notes. Some days the the teacher takes questions and answers them inaccurately because it isn't his area. He doesn't hardly let me speak in his room, and I'm not going to contradict him in front of his class, so I get to sit and listen to this information being presented poorly, inaccurately, and confusingly.
Other days I am in a physical science classroom trying to help students solve speed and vector problems and 90% of the students in the room refuse to accept my assistance, even though I know this shit.
I think it might be partially an ego thing. And I think I am going to be okay with knowing it was an ego thing. But you know what, it was ego that drove me to decide that I was going to continue to finish my education instead of dropping out and working at a fast food joint, or walmart, or factory.
I could have done that and between my pay and state benefits we probably would have been okay. I would have worked too hard, been tired and miserable, but it was the easier option.
Applying to new jobs will suck. I will have to tell Amanda, my good friend here in town, that I am looking to move on. But I think if I stay here, I will become more and more unhappy and miserable.
Life at home is pretty good. Chris and I go around every now and then. I am not going to claim that life is smooth sailing at all times. I am a bit of an easy-going type who likes to let chores wait until the weekend, clean it all up in a day, and then ignore it again for a week. Chris is one who can't seem to settle in and relax with the family if anything is out of place. There are evenings when I am tired and out of gas and I just want to relax with the kids, but Chris wants to spic and span the kitchen and the bathroom and is so busy going through things and organizing that the only time we are both sitting at the same time is the 15 minutes we spent eating dinner.
There are times I feel like he would rather spend time running around making things look perfect than spend his time with the family. Sometimes I can shrug and do my own thing and wait it out, but there are other nights that it really hurts my feelings that he wont share the work and then call it done and he isn't willing to not do it until it isn't kids and family time. There are times he gets frustrated with me because messes don't bug me unless they are smelly or super annoying.
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