I Wouldn't Call It A *Test*

The vacation begins Thursday.  I'll be in not-so-sunny Seattle for eleven days, and I plan to have a fantastic time.  There are lots of things we'll be doing, the boy and me, that actually involve leaving the house!  (Not like that, people.  We're really pretty homebodies is all.)

But there's a niggling in my head, a little noise that makes me wonder how we're doing in our little relationship.  For example, I had a really bad Sunday last Sunday, the kind that makes me reconsider my decision to stop taking antidepressants.  Those days, unless someone is Superperson, I can be pretty darn intolerable.  So I yelled at the boy and hung up on him.  A few hours later, feeling a bit more stable, I tried to call.  No answer.  Yup, that's how I know I'm in trouble.  When we finally did talk the next night, he told me that he doesn't know how to handle me when I'm that emotional.  It may make me shallow, he said, but if you act like that while you're here, I'm going to kick you out.

Last night he mentioned again about my emotions and how he's shallow and can't handle them.  I asked him, "What's going to happen when someone important to me dies?  You're going to ruin this because of that."  He said that that would be different because it's real.

Guess what, kid.  My moods are real.  My occasional bout of soul-crushing depression is real.  Your lack of support during those times is real.

So another thing I'll be doing on this trip is watching him closely; watching us both closely.  Because as abjectly terrifying it would be to lose him, I can't (and won't) be on my best behavior forever.

Sign Of The Times

Today as I was packing my trunk full of delicious goodies for the week and justthen remembering that I forgot cat water and those Crystal Light packets that make water tolerable, a man approached me.  He told me his name, and went through quite a story about being new to the area, not at all lazy, and then asked me for money.  I told him I didn't have any cash, he apologized for bothering me, and we both went on our way.

While waiting at the red light, I started to feel badly for this man.  How hard is it to dress nicely (he was - polo and slacks) and come up to strangers in a parking lot to beg?  I mean, we've all eaten our fair share of ick in this world, but we have not yet had to ask strangers for money.  It's got to be excruciating and humiliating to do such a thing.

Even worse, I did have a couple of dollars I could have given him.  Really, if I can afford some of the things I buy, I can afford to help out a stranger here and there.  So since I can't make it up to this guy, I'd decided that while I'm in Seattle, I'm going to convert a twenty into dollar bills and help out some of the homeless up there.

Two Weeks And Counting

It's been a really tough week.  Lots of me working my ass off, and lots of changes for the boy.  Sometimes I wonder how we'll survive, because I know how ugly looks on him, and I can only imagine his visualization of my stress level.

Still, tonight, he's been calling with ideas for plans for us.  I kinda nixed the forty-dollars-each tickets to a weird play.  People, while I'm down with avant-garde art, I'm not down with paying my Southern version of Broadway prices for it.  So he found us a film festival, a few art museums with interesting installations, and a restaurant or two we should try.  This certainly suits my fancy.

Maybe I should tell Momma about the impending trip?  (Until I do, keep quiet, k?)

I Didn't Actually Eat Her

Last weekend was Lucy's first birthday.  First.  How can someone get so old so fast?  And even more delicious?  Seriously, the time does fly.

I got to the party about thirty minutes late.  (Tardy for the party?)  Luckily, that meant that all the spread was laid out and I got unbelievably delicious food while I watched baby Lucy explore the goods.

Wow.  Apparently there are many people who love to spoil Lucy.  My gift you can't see, because it was more for her folks than for her.  Next year I intend to teach her what spoiled really means.  (Don't tell her folks.)

She's getting quite good at walking, which means that in the next six months, she will no longer be delicious in a crock pot:

Instead, she knows that her nickname is LAMB - which is her initials...I'm sure she won't give her folks crap for that at fourteen...

Instead, she found another small child, who clearly needed exploring:

Maybe one or two adults told her that poking an infant was a bit rude.  Lucy (sorta) listened and then we got to the good part:

Mom and Dad are going to show me the glory of presents?  Now?  Really?  Dad, let's open...and Mom, I promise to enjoy every moment of this...

It's more than a girl can take.  It's amazing, but I'm small...

So now I'll nap.  And I will explore everything.  Soon.

Update - Finally!

I still have unreliable internet access.  There's an external wiring problem, and while I may never again pay Comcast, I may lose the clients I have that are relying on email for communication.

I'm struggling with buying my vacation tickets, and it's because I'm rather broke and worried about everything under the sun.  I really want to go, and I guess I'm waiting for some kind of sign.

Could you send me a sign, please?  I just need to wake up safely for a few days, and being around the boy is the only way I'm able to do that.

Nightmares about break-ins, one night of almost-sleep before the shower caddy un-suctioned itself from the wall...I need a break.

But the money part worries me, and knowing that Momma will be PISSED when I tell her I'm going (I mentioned the money part, right?) freezes my ability to buy tickets.

Again, please, soon - sign?