Mumsaid

Eeyah, GreenWarrior, The Boy...the Incredible Human I Get to Claim as My Son Note:  Ten years ago, in the chilly wee hours of a February morning, I gave birth to my firstborn, whom we refer to online (usually) as Green Warrior.  However, my second child, The Girl, affectionately named him "Eeyah" though I am fairly certain she is capable of correctly pronouncing his first name.  She is nearing two, he is ten.  I do not "get" the Green Warrior reference completely, so I, for ease of use, hereby declare the title of his persona in the World Wide Web...Eeyah.  I think I might type Eea for short. Just thought I'd clarify. Eea is amazing.  Incredible.  Unbelievable.  And sometimes just damn confusing.  His startling intelligence and loving disposition make up for the amount of frustration I feel when doing what I refer to as my "mom job."   I know most parents are supposedly biased and tout their own offspring as the smartest, cutest, s...

Tonight I went dancing.  Not the "fellas at the club" type of dancing, but the "promenade and swing and try not to run into anyone and onetwothree onetwothree will the room ever stop spinning" type of dancing. It was amazing.  It was uplifting.  It was refreshing.  It smelled a bit, but I loved it.  I had no idea that my calves could sweat. One apple and some peanut butter later (how many days now without an Extra Value Meal?), I lay here in my bed, head throbbing, listening to GreenWarrior snoring, and experience, for the second Saturday in a row, the exhaustion that comes from pure exhilaration.  Pure, absolute-my abs hurt from laughing and my legs hurt from dancing-exhilaration. Why on God's Green Earth didn't I do this before?  I seriously need to go contra dancing again.  No one ever told me that I could feel this completely and utterly tired and yet happy at the same time.  I could completely pass out yet I am still high from all of...

Today I went to a well-known day spa in our fair city and had an aloe and herb body wrap.  I was scared, ashamed, scared, unsure, curious, excited, scared...you get the point. You may be wondering, "What's the big deal?  Why is Pattermomma so damn scared?"  Well... Two children and various stages of using food or the control of food as medicine have left my body in not the most attractive of states. I am the heaviest I have ever been (maybe...I think I might have dropped a couple pounds this summer), and had my youngest in November.  It takes some of us mommas a little longer than others to return to what is now the New Normal.  My belly is floppy, my breasts are suffering from gravity, and what the hell happened to my ass and thighs?  Since when did I start looking like...a Mother? I often thank the Fates that I am no longer the naive youngun' I was in my early twenties, but I also curse those same Fates for removing the physical perfection along...

Patterbaby was born November 3, 2010.  She is beautiful and perfect and healthy.  Everyone thinks she is so wonderful.  She is.  Everyone thinks GreenWarrior is the Best Big Brother Ever.  He is.  (My own personal Big Brother holds that title as well, but seriously?  GreenWarrior has helped us SURVIVE at times.  That necessitates the passing on of the title, doesn't it?)  I have fought the Darkness rather valiantly, I believe, and to most Outsiders (Dear Friends included) I am flourishing.  Doing Great.  Fantastic. But sometimes it's all I can do just to get up. Sometimes I am pretty damn proud of myself when I just Keep Going.

Post published 16 February 2010 on Patterville: Some weeks ago, when I was feeling antisocial, I went to UCity BreadCo for church.  I took my laptop with me, hoping to wax poetic about my battle with depression.  What I wrote was quite eloquent, I thought, and helped to soothe the demons raging within.  I went to save, and the Internet Nazis at said BreadCo had kicked me off without any warning.  All work was sucked into a black hole, never to be seen again.  I dug myself further into my Personal Pit of Despair as a result and have not written since.   I intended for this blog to have a lot more entries, and to be much more interesting.  Upon review, I have found it to be a rather accurate portrayal of what I do when I am depressed: nothing. I want nothing I feel like nothing I like nothing nothing nothing nothing. It is akin to a large corporation's hostile takeover on the Little Guy, only more oppressive.  I am currently on a Long Clim...

Post published on 3 January 2010 on Patterville: Today is the last day of my maternity leave.  Tomorrow is the beginning of second semester.  Feelings include: guilt, fear, apprehension, fear, worry, fear, guilt, a crushing sensation in my chest, fear, guilt, and sadness.  You get the picture.  I leave my baby in the capable hands of a babysitter, and then rush off to serve the social and political democracy in which I live.  Or something like that.   What I really want to do is cry. I am taking steps forward to do what I really want to do when I grow up, yet somehow I still feel stagnant.  The Whaddifs and Youllnevers come in and take over.  They drag my lifeless carcass to the Doldrums.  I put up a fight, but sometimes it's just not Enough.  Sometimes I need to fight harder.  And sometimes I just don't care.   I think I'll listen to the rain and snuggle my baby.  I can't teach with puffy eyes. 

I am spending the day doing small chores around the house and playing on the internet. I say "playing," but really I am doing some planning, reading, and renewing. Yesterday my Babydaddy came home telling me of a frightening, yet rather grand, idea: Paper Christmas. No decorations from the box. Paper and paper only. Handmade decorations. I am not sure about gifts. (I hope it doesn't include gifts because I have already started my Santa-ing.) My first reaction: I MUST have Christmas lights. The lights create warmth in a cold season of darkness. They are Pagan, Christian, AND Jewish in origin. Must. Have. Lights. He agreed. Lights and paper. I thought, "Now THERE'S a visit from Eureka Fire Department waiting to happen. We haven't had them over since the gas leak. I'll whip up some cookies and get ready." I have been researching "green" crafts, and I am not a fan of the Uber-commercialized Winter Holiday Season, so I a...