also, friday five, because i'm bored and antsy

1) What is one thing you always have with you?
  1. my phone. ALWAYS. seriously, ALWAYS.

2) What are two things on your night-table (or next to your bed)?
  1. my iPad (which i do a lot of reading on)
  2. my jewelry box.

3) What are three things you learned in the last seven days?
  1. orcas can have babies until they are about 40.
  2. that a 13 year old wrote the state anthem of alaska.
  3. that ice worms are the only creatures that live (and thrive) in the crevasses near mt. denali.

4) What are four things you always have to tell your kids?
  1. stop it.
  2. please go brush your teeth
  3. i am going to rip your arm off and beat you with it if you don't stop that
  4. hurry up

What are five things you paid for in the last month?
  1. groceries
  2. gas
  3. a new cell phone
  4. a medic bag from army surplus
  5. effing doctors!

well, there you have it

i just did a search of this blog and would have sworn that sometime over the past 7 years i'd posted about homeschooling but apparently not. *cough* apparently i'm a homeschooling mom now. yeah, i know, just when you thought i couldn't get any crunchier. (or is it laziness?) i vaguely remember discussing hs with rory when we were still together, which means that parker was under 3 years old, and then again when we were doing our parenting agreement during the divorce.

parker had a hard time with preschool (even a co-op), cried every morning for the first half of kindergarten, and finally pulled it together for first grade. this year started out AWESOME. she got the teacher she wanted, didn't even need/want to be walked to class on her first day. and then, things got really really bad really really quick. a combination of a bullying seat-mate, a teacher (male) that yells/humiliates ALL DAY LONG, her own sense of responsibility and sensitivity to noise, plus her food allergies created a perfect storm. a perfect storm of panic attacks every morning, weight loss due to not eating, and clinging/sobbing/hysteria when i'd try to leave the classroom.

wednesday afternoon i watched her stand the pouring rain and alternate between stubborn anger and weeping/begging. and i broke. my daughter who formerly ran to class was telling me that she "hated school" and that she was terrified her teacher would restrain her again. we talked to the principal; i pleaded her case; he refused to put her in another classroom.

so we left. and we don't plan on coming back, at least until third grade...maybe never. the past two mornings parker has woken up, eaten a huge breakfast, dressed and begged me to print out work sheets on alaska (our first unit of study, her choice) and do projects. one series of unfortunate circumstances will not kill her love of learning. i refuse to let it. so now i'm reading up on the many many methods of homeschooling and following her lead for the time being. she, like me, prefers some organization and so i suspect we'll fall into a routine pretty quick here.

anyway, did juneau the capital of alaska? (say it out loud. i motherfucking rock at homeschool bitches.)

thursday thirteen (five): week 20 on a friday

thirteen things that are fucking hard about being a mom, even after almost 8 years

1) seeing them experience humiliation/shame. this is more difficult for me to endure than pain or sadness or grief or anger or any other emotion that is ALSO hard to deal with. is this just me? maybe it's that shame conveys such finality; it cannot be redone or gotten over or re-framed easily. sadness and anger fade over time and you wonder how your feelings were ever so intense. shame swells up with the same vigor, even years later.

2) barf. i've never been a believer that i'll "feel better after i throw up." i can count on two hands how many times i've thrown up in (almost) thirty years. i avoid it at any cost. i threw up not one time during chemo. and i've cried every time that I have vomited. i've become convinced that i'm not going to live to see the end of a bad stomach flu. i've begged to be killed from the bathroom floor in the middle of the night. unfortunately, my strong stomach has not extended to my daughter. she's a champion barfer with an approximately 80% hit-the-toilet/bowl success rate. and yet, i become a homicidal when my children throw up. thankfully it's typically at rory (who is not present on these occasions) has perhaps received 3AM texts along the lines "you mother-fucking-asshole-dickbag who impregnated me with these demon monsters from hell. you are so goddamn lucky you aren't here to clean this up but fuck you, you can be awake to feel my pain."

3) tangly hair that leads to moaning during hygiene assaults. i have no patience for it. i'm sorry, i myself have a tough scalp and don't yelp like a whipped puppy as i brush my own hair. neither of you hellions should either.

4) following through on withdrawn privileges in the face of a hysterical 5 year old boy who is saying "i'm so sorry mama. i'll never do it again! i'm so sorry! you are the best mama ever! i'm SO sorry! please don't take away my barbies!"

5) seeing other children be mean and/or reject my children.

on being parker

it's like when you leave something in the fridge, out for too long, uncovered. it makes the fridge smell bad. you have to take it out. and throw it away. you have to take the trash out. the fridge might smell bad for a while. but the fridge is okay. it's still okay. it isn't hurt. and then it doesn't smell anymore. that's kind of how this is.

+

it needs to be drawn on paper. and hit with a broom. and ripped up. and put in the shredder. there are lots and lots of me. and just a few of them. and i can keep drawing more and more and more of me.

+

my head is getting bigger and bigger and my body is getting tiny and far away. it's better to keep your hands -your body- busy so your mind doesn't take over.

+

sarah winchester went crazy. that's sort of what's been happening to me. i didn't go crazy but i needed to talk, someone to listen to help me feel better.

- parker, on mental illness, anxiety specifically

about six months before i got pregnant with parker i (allegedly) had a conversation with my dad about the fact that rory and i had decided that we wouldn't have kids of our own. we might adopt some day but we wouldn't risk passing on the slew of heritable diseases that pollute our respective gene pools. this was

porphyria

for one. maybe ms. maybe cancer. maybe asthma or alcoholism or big ears. certainly mental illness.

parker had her first anxiety attack two days ago. she's breathing deeply. she's practicing guided imagery. she's using words and asking for help when she needs it. she's better at this than me.

grat·i·tude

thankfully there is a foggy day in san francisco. a day off of school. a delivery to my favorite little chocolate shop in noe valley. back-to-school night. thankfully there is a new phone. a fried chicken sandwich with austin. a cactus garden. better than expected coffee. a long nap. thankfully there is a vacation on the horizon. a holiday. a few *big* birthdays. skinny jeans on my skinny little girl. grown up conversation. bucket lists (live in the city for at least a year). tumultuous change. teaching eduardo to read. thankfully there is a boy who responds to "yum!" with: it's good, but not as good as my mama's chocolate because NOTHING is as good as snake & butterfly. father's afraid of getting old and being a burden. trim thighs from goofy shoes. a man that requires a good back scrubbing in the shower. people i look forward to seeing at the market every week - people that bring me honey or flowers or cupcakes or their great dating adventures. thankfully there is a now defunct satellite that may shatter over our country tonight. a comfortable ebb and flow. deep discussions about the social and biological implications of marriage - and divorce. thankfully there are things to plan. an infant not my own. a perpetual forward motion. a spider that built its web on my side mirror, there, every morning for the past week. a pediatrician that suggests throwing rocks. thankfully there is cotton candy.

thursday 13: week 19

thirteen things that have nothing whatsoever to do with one another edition

1) anyone wanna go to the desert with me and get real high and visit the integratron? that's right folks, it's the only "acoustically perfect tabernacle and energy machine sited on a powerful geomagnetic vortexin the magical mojave desert" or the whole united states for that matter... looks fuuuun!

2) tasty salted pig parts anyone? if you're in san francisco and get a chance to head to the ferry building please stop into boccalone. get a salumi cone. or a panini. get something!

3) where is my corvette summer (tequila, grapefruit juice, lime juice & tonic)?

4) i've been sick for a week but managed not to miss a run. thanks to my komodosport vibrams my thighs and butt are sore but NOT MY HIPS OR BACK. whoop!

5) friday parker wasn't feeling great and was complaining about going to school. i overheard lorenzo earnestly advising her to go: "how are you ever going to get a good job parker if you don't go to school!?"

6) danny is at the movies with the kids and i am here at home. ftw!

7) listen to the romance of wolves by roma di luna. fer reals ya'll.

8) watch george w. bush: the 9/11 interview if you missed it on national geographic (the link is part 1 of 3). you probably know how i feel about gwb (i'm disgustingly leftist) but this was er, more human maybe, than i'd seen from him before. found myself crying through a few parts of it, unable to imagine the weight of being IN CHARGE that first day.

9) seriously j-wow's new boobs? seriously?

10) wore those shoes to mike's wedding. LOVE.

11) my five year old can listen to any song he wants anywhere in the world, anytime. this, i tell my father, is what has changed music in the past 50 years.

12) is it fall yet? it's so difficult to work with chocolate in this weather. gah!

13) read this book review on npr and i'm totally intrigued. anyone read this?