mynameisblair's blog

I'm all alone today.  My husband and daughter are off working on Granny's new outbuilding, leaving me with almost unheard of alone time.  Not that I'll do anything significant; the highlights today have been paying my mortgage online and watering the flowers out front.  The best part of flying solo is it frees up my mental energy for just me.  The only needs I have to meet are my own. 

Needs.  This is an issue I've been struggling with lately.  Right now, we are struggling financially.  So much so that Adam is considering returning to work and doing his business on the side.  He and I have fought and fought over the issue of me returning to work.  God.  I can't tell you how many times we discussed this very thing.  Late at night.  Early in the morning.  Daily.  For weeks.  Ultimately, we decided that no, I won't be returning to work.  I'm needed at home.  Going to work would net me very little, what with an 80 mile round trip and a not-so-reliable vehicle, and take away so much from my family.  The bottom line is that we are willing to trade financial instability for keeping Taylor out of public school.  No matter how broke we are, it's the line we're not willing to cross.  And my being home does keep us fairly free, in terms of whenever Adam is free to spend time with us, we are available.  For now, being home and letting go of the guilty feeling that I'm not contributing enough is the best I can do for my family. 

You know that old saying, "when Mama's not happy, nobody's happy"?  That's where we've been for the past couple of months, and I am soooo over it.  My family needs me to be available to them, to be able to focus on matters at hand, and not sucked into the abyss of frustration and guilt that I seem to only just now be crawling out of.  I've made my peace, and I'm grateful for my little family, and I'm not at all sorry that I'm the center of their universe.  Money will come and go, but this time of life is so fleeting, and I don't want to make any more unhappy memories for something as trivial as money.   We'll be fine.  This, too, shall pass.

Now that I've cleared my mind here, and discussed how it's not so bad to be the anchor for my fine little family, I must admit that I'm really enjoying my day alone.  I think I'll go make an iced mocha and find a notebook to write in.  I foresee a chick flick in my future. 

Ants and attitudes--my two little annoyances of the day.

It's been a bad year for ants.  I've heard it from several people.  I don't know what factors combine to make it a bad year (or a good year, depending on your point of view.)  Weather?  Temperature?  Bumper crops of ant food?  I don't know and I don't care.  What I am sure of is that when I got into the shower today, I had over a dozen ant bites on my legs, and that's where my patience for all things great and small ends.  This means war, you little bitches. 

Now we come to attitudes. 

In general, I'm a pretty permissive parent.  If Taylor wanted to jump on a trampoline at 2am in her underwear, while downing shots of chocolate milk, I'd be fine with that, as long as she didn't wake the neighbors.  Or choke.  I let her write on her walls.  I tolerate Gwen Stefani and Duran Duran for hours on end.  If she wants to dress in pink and red, topped off with her black bandana with the flames on it, I let her.  Marathon xbox sessions?  Fine.  Sleep with 57,000 stuffed animals that make it impossible to make your bed?  No problemo.  These are the things that let her express her individuality, and I'm all about the individuality. 

Taylor is a great kid.  She has such a sweet nature.  She's extraordinarily funny and smart.  She floors me with her impressions.  People love her because she's so well spoken and well behaved.  But there's where I come in.  I won't tolerate crap attitudes or rude behavior.  Ever.  Adam will correct her as well, but he's not the hardass I am.  If she treads on thin ice, she recieves a warning look.  If it goes beyond the warning look, there is hell to pay.  Like this morning.  She copped a bullshit attitude with me, and I called her on it.  Adam had wanted her to go with him to Granny's house this morning, but she couldn't be bothered.  That's fine, her choice.  I informed her before breakfast that she needed to work on her room today, because it's a festering pit of filth, and all of a sudden she's interested in going to Granny's house.  Funny how that works.  So I told her not to even think about it, there was work to be done, and she tells me how she's really too tired to clean her room.  After sleeping in until 10am.  Yeah.   So I ask her, what?!  and she rolls her eyes and sighs, nothing.

So, after a general bitching out, which began with, I ask very little of you around here, and ended in do not ever pull that lame-assed excuse with me again, I doubt that it will happen again.  For a few months, anyway.  Right now she is cleaning out the refridgerator.  With a good attitude.  She even did her impression of Bill Murray from What About Bob?  for me.  (She was convincing me that she needed some chocolate milk.  I'm doin' the work, I'm not a slacker!  Gimme, gimme, gimme--I need, I need, I need!)  I'm not mad and she's not mad, and equilibrium has been restored. 

I'm going to enjoy this time of life while it lasts.  Puberty is just around the corner.