Friday, October 29, 2010

Mama is a Four Letter Word

Some days, MAMA!!!! is a four letter word. It is a FUCK YOU, a SHIT, a BITCH. It is a scream and an insult. It has been my experience that getting cussed at feels more like a punch in the stomach though, the mama four letter word is a suck you down through the floor four letter word. A drain your soul, quick sand to your brain word.

Queenpins get tired. Queenpins get sucked dry, but Queenpins have to get over it pretty soon or life will be reduced to keeping your head above the muck in the swamp, or escape the dementors, which sometimes my beasties feel like. Life suckers, joy eaters.

We are not flowing as family this week. We are reacting to each other like those ping pong balls in the Bingo machine. It sucks. Mama is a four letter word this week. There is constant bickering, constant whining, and mama's mad face and sharp words.

This week I've got no words of wisdom, pour your whiskey, (you know I'm talking to you), smoke your cigarettes, lock the bathroom door and sit. Survive.

I've been getting up in the morning and meditating hoping to be a kinder mother. This morning I said 108 compassion mantras, 45 minutes later I would have happily sold both kids to gypsies. I am in survival mode. My new mantras, "This is temporary, this is temporary, this is temporary." "Call a sitter, call a sitter, call a sitter, call a sitter." Survive.

Monday, October 25, 2010

Taking It Like a Woman

Taking it like a woman is being wise, accepting, strong, and honest. Knowing when to hold your tongue and not falling apart.

This week I'm gonna have to take it like a woman. It's gonna be a long week. Yesterday my man looked over at me and said, I got a call from Georgia and we're getting together on Sunday. Sunday, my day to be with my man. He said he was surprised by the feelings that came up when he talked to her. He doesn't know what's going to happen on Sunday so he felt like I should know. He doesn't want to hurt me, he doesn't want to lie. I took it like a woman, gave him my blessing. Inside I took it like a little girl and made plans to kick her ass. Shit.

Georgia is my man's one true love who did him wrong ten years ago. He told me last week he didn't want to talk to her when he found out she might call him. Using the wise and not needy part of my being I said, "I think it might be good for you two to talk. Seems like you have some stuff to work out." No worries, he didn't want to talk to her anyway...until she called, and he realized he did want to talk to her, and now I'm taking it like a woman.

After the bomb was dropped I said, "Well, I think it's good. I think you need to figure this out. I'm not going to give you shit about it, I understand it." And I do. When I contacted my first husband after 8 years of silence I remembered why we were married. I concocted all these fantasies of wrong place, wrong time and meant to be romance, but then we hung out a few times and I remembered why we aren't married anymore. He is an amazing friend and that works for us. We're relieved we've work it out.

I couldn't sleep last night because I was preparing for the end. Georgia is super model gorgeous. Me and my man laugh that I'm a furry wombat. He calls me cute. It's like Janeane Garofalo and Uma Thurman in The Truth About Cats and Dogs, (though Georgia is more like badass Uma in Kill Bill). Unfortunately this isn't a movie and in my experience the super model always wins.

Sigh. I'm gonna take it like a woman. I've asked for two things from my man 1.) Tell me sooner rather than later if there is a connection that they plan to investigate, 2.) Be extra sweet to me this week, because though I'm trying not to freak out, I'm gonna be thinking about it.

Good man that he is, I know that both those requests will be granted. He's already started being very reassuring, but what can you do when you've got unfinished business with someone? You gotta finish it. The worst part for me is that though I am not in love, I don't want to be done with this man yet. The good part is being single makes my life easier time and gives me more time for me. I can be at peace single or with someone, thank the Buddhas.

The funniest thing is that I refuse to stay in the moment. I've got seven more days of this rambling in my head. This crazy vacillating between woman and girl. Brave and scared. Accepting and reacting. Being wise and stupid. Samsara, samsara, samsara.

Time to hit the cushion and meditate. Time to go inward and find a little peace and truth. One thing I already know is true, everything is temporary whether you take it like a woman or not.

Sunday, October 17, 2010

Low Expectations

I have found that low expectations are the key to being a happy single mom. Not low expectations for my kids behavior, or for the people around me, but low expectations on how I think our lives should function day to day.

As a mom in general, there are always things you could be doing, fixing, cleaning, teaching. As a single mom it is double. My life is a series of unfinished tasks, unbathed kids, and unfolded laundry. It is rare for me to have the time to do something to its completion.

I have too many good things is what I like to say about my life, but sometimes I just have too many things. I have to let things go, which is hard. I can't quit my job, or stop parenting, but I can leave dishes in the sink overnight and let the laundry go a little. I can let go of being a soccer mom. I can ease up on myself.

This Queenpin used to be really hard on herself. This Queenpin used to make her own baby food and want to be the best at being a mama. In that competitive creepy kind of way, not in that nurturing mother earth kind of way.

It's not that I don't want to be a good mama now, but I am realizing how little it takes to be a good mom. My kids do not care how clean the kitchen is, if the dinner was made by me or someone else. They just want to sit and have dinner with me. My kids don't care if their lunches are packed and set out the night before, or if their sheets are clean they just want me to snuggle up at night and read them a book. My kids don't care if they play soccer or do ballet, they just want to dance with their Queenpin in the kitchen. My kids just need good lovin', good laughin', and some mama time. That's what's gonna pull us through.

Not that those things are little. Being a mama exhausts me and sometimes I would much rather clean the kitchen than mother, but I find when I ease up on my expectations and just BE, there is magic in that moment.

Last night while I was putting my daughter to bed I had to kick my way through the mess of paper and toys on her floor. When I got to the bed all I could think of was how she needed to clean her room, and which toys would be going into the Goodwill bin. When I lay down I was a little agitated, but then she grabbed my hand and pulled it around her and said, "Snuggle." I let go of the toys, melted into that golden moment, and curled up with my girl until she fell asleep.

Thursday, October 7, 2010

I Love Good Stories

I love good stories. I heard a particularly delicious one the other day and had to write a poem about it. I'm no poet, but this story just had to be written down.

A Man’s Shaken Faith

On Halloween when the freaks and the friendly come out to celebrate
My faith was shaken
I saw Jesus on a stick
As usual he was just defending himself
Took on four men at once
He did, I swear
Long hair flying
Veins popping out
Eyes wild
As I imagine they were when he stormed the temple

Who knew Jesus could hit like that?
We all know he can take a punch
A beat down
A crown of thorns
A nail or two
But no one told us how he could rumble
Like a street kid
Like an old bear biker
Like the Hulk

The earth slipped under my feet when Satan appeared to help him
Another long haired ineffable being
Horns so perfect
Hair flowing down
Blue eyes blazing just like the Lords’
Pulling men off Jesus
Fighting like you knew he would
As my wife told me later
Looking much better in person

Then Jesus got arrested and the devil slipped into the crowd
A few feet before me
A man said emphatically to his wife
You see,
I told you if he was still alive today
They would still be persecuting him

But all I saw were those two in cahoots
Jesus and the Devil
Out drinking
Playing Texas Hold ‘Em
Laughing about their miserable jobs
Laying plans for how they were going to fuck with us tomorrow

The next day I awoke to a message from a friend
A cop at the station
Who left a long message about his Hollow’s Eve night
And the devil bailing Jesus out of jail
And I was certain then
That the divine plan was twisted
And God’s good grace had failed
To keep those jokers apart

The Never Ending Ending

My wusband and I cannot seem to get divorced. It is not because there is any chance in hell that we will reconcile (Thank you Buddhas). It is that we cannot agree on anything, and especially because he is a nut. I am going to try not to get into his side of things too much because we all know everyone has their own story, but on my side he is a nut and I am just trying to do what is right for my kids.

On November 4th it will be three years since he left me with our one year old daughter and 4 year old son. You would think that in that time we would have made some progress. Or at least that I would stop being completely manipulated by his sly ways, but somehow I cannot not get sucked into it. What is the difference between being compassionate and just being plain stupid?

I spent my day today fighting with him and having fits of tears because once again I am accepting that he is a shitty dad and he will not change, until he's nice again and promises to be a better dad and then I believe it all over again. It is the never ending ending. The never ending cycle of us.

My kids suffer the most from my ridiculous choice of father for them. After the wasband left someone told me about a movie with Chevy Chase when he is driving behind a truck and all this toxic waste dumps on him and changes him into a different person. Often I am tempted to tell my children that this is what happened to thier father, "...and he was never the same again, but its not your fault, it is the toxic waste."

I wish I could believe that, but I know what is true, he is who has always been and who I chose not to see. I've got to get my vision checked because this Queenpin cannot take one more year of in the process of divorcing! Plus one of my friends wants to throw me a divorce party and every Queenpin Mama deserves one of those.