Snoring

 I find it highly amusing that everyone (including me) in our household snores. I remember when I was a teenager, I read books where the protagonist would rather die than have a snoring husband. And yet I find my own husband's snores not only adorable, but comforting. They genuinely make me happy.

When he snores, I feel comforted, like he's right there with me. I know he's comfortable, and I find that satisfying. He also just generally makes me happy by existing. But listening to his snores isn't the chore I was led to believe when I read books as a teen. It isn't infuriating, it's just cute. My husband is always cute. It's really ridiculous how cute I find him every day, and I can't imagine him being any cuter, but he somehow surpasses my expectations every time. 

When the kitty snores, I also find it cute. It's a sign she's sleeping well, she's comfortable, and she feels safe. When she sleeps with her back to me, sometimes I poke her, just to see if I startle her. But usually she doesn't even twitch, let alone wake up. It makes me feel really trusted and happy. It's also generally shocking just how loud a small 12 pound cat can be when she snores. 

When Childling snores, it lets me know they're likely not having nightmares, and they're sleeping well. They don't sleep well lately, so the snores are reassuring. Childling is probably the quietest sleeper in the house, surprisingly. Whenever they wake up, I tend to wake up as well, even if we're rooms apart, so that's distressing. But beyond that, it's comfortable to hear them sleeping well. 

I wonder what this new baby will do. Will he snore? Will he just sleep silently for years until he develops a snore like I did? I think it's late to reassure you all, but he's fine. I was one of 5% of women who have a massive bleeding incident without a miscarriage, so I had to be careful for a week, but everything is looking good now. 

I'm 23 weeks pregnant, the baby is a boy, we do have the name picked out already, as well as the bassinet, a lot of clothes, and most of the essentials,. We're still conflicted on the infant car seat and stroller. Baby has all of his limbs, and all of his organs so far. We did a gender reveal party with my family, by putting blue icing in cupcakes and then letting everyone bite into them together. It was really fun.

The gender reveal party was also the only time we've really broken quarantine since March, because my own family is almost strictly quarantined as well. I think my mom is going crazy over the new baby though. She keeps asking what other clothes we want, and if we need anything. She's actually come up to visit for the first time in years! Multiple times! 

It's a strange timeline folks. I got knee surgery in February, and my scars are already faded and healed. Then, within two weeks of returning to work, I had to go into quarantine. Then after finding out I was pregnant, I arranged to return to work around week 14 of pregnancy, with the understanding that most morning sickness fades out by week 16, but mine did not. 

I actually have only just this week made it to nearly 2 weeks without ...an incident. That's what I'm going to call it. I've lost a lot of food options. And I've grown more familiar with throwing up than I have ever in my life wanted to. I've thrown up most medicine options, and I have bad effects with others (yay blood pressure drop?) so it hasn't been fun.

I tutor two little girls (ages 6 and 7) twice a week right now, and that's the only work I do. Hubby works all the time, and I'm pretty much just being an incubator, as cooking, standing, working, exercising, etc. all leave me sick, nauseas and upset. 

So yeah! Life is a little rough, but while I'm taking time off work, I'm actually running into having too much time on my hands, so I'm beginning to look into projects I need to complete. Some examples include my CEUs for my license, and cosplay projects, as well as breaking down the rooms one by one and reorganizing them. I've only got three rooms left, actually, and one of them is half done. 

I hope everyone is doing well during this stressful period. Did you realize we've run out of Hurricane names, and have resorted to the Greek Alphabet? We have two more months of Hurricane season to get through, but if we have 4 more hurricanes, it'll be the largest number of hurricanes in recorded history. 

That's not even getting into the social issues, the desperation to vote 45 out of office, the loss of a judge and the Republicans dirty tricks to try to be exempt from a rule they created themselves four years ago. I'm not a political blog, it's just my thoughts here, so I'm trying not to get into it. But this year has been impressive in sheer number of apocalyptic events. I am thoroughly impressed, and I'm not ashamed to admit it. 

Oh, and if you want to join my discord, so we can chat in real time, feel free to ask for the link. :) 

Til next time!

As soon as I begin to embrace something, it always seems to disappear

This has been an interesting 24 hours. It’s currently nearly 8 am, I haven’t slept yet, and I’m waiting to sleep until after I call to schedule with gynecology in thirty minutes. Why? Because I’m 14 weeks pregnant, and I found myself in a small of my own blood an hour or so ago.
I may be miscarrying. I may not. I’m in that schrodinger limbo where the baby will exist as long as we don’t open the ...box. While I was showering off, all I could think was “Of course.”
Because not two hours before, I was looking up when we could feel the baby move.
Because not two hours before, I was looking up whether my stomach should feel hard.
Because not two hours before.... I had finally started to relax and believe the baby would really be okay. That I have safely entered my second trimester for the first time, and this baby would survive.
The baby might be fine. My mild, constant cramping seems to whisper otherwise though. My absolute fear of using the restroom and finding blood all over my thighs and hands again whispers otherwise. My eyes, which keep watering, and my throat, which keeps tightening, whisper otherwise.

This pregnancy has been hard. Hard enough that I had to admit I wouldn’t be trying to get pregnant again after this. Hard enough that work has been a trial, and eating even more so. I’ve lost about 15-20 pounds, depending on the day. I haven’t been able to cook, to clean, to do much more than feeble easy exercises in bed and the shower, to even go grocery shopping.
I’ve been useless, a burden, a dead weight, and I’ve been painfully aware of it. I don’t like the feeling of being a noose around Hubby’s neck. I hope the baby is okay, so I only have to do this once. I hope and I hope and I hope, but I barely dare to breathe, I’m so worried.
“You should try to sleep at least a little.”
Yes, I should. I won’t, but I should.

Enforced vacation? Okay!

Both of my jobs require in-person interaction, so I’ve been benched for.... several weeks now. And I had just returned to work after a month of recovery from surgery, so it was a very strange situation overall. It made filing for unemployment more difficult for sure.
I’ve really enjoyed staying home. For a while, my sleep schedule got flipped before settling into a more reasonable time frame (2 am - 11 am ish). Now it’s beginning to cycle around again (It’s currently 5 a.m., I’ve been attempting sleep since 3). It doesn’t take much to switch my sleep around though.
So I’ve found that I am sleeping a lot more (approx 9 hours a night), going out to exercise (hike) about 2-3 times a week), eating only when I’m hungry enough to ask for food or drag myself out of bed (I prefer reading to eating, so....), and mostly avoiding stressful triggers! So I’ve really enjoyed being able to stay home and not interact with ppl.
It’s reminded me that I’ve always been an introvert masquerading as an extrovert. Even the hiking and such isn’t to see other ppl, it’s entirely because my leg needs frequent exercise or it starts aching unbearably. Grocery shopping is a once a week affair, and I’d really prefer not to go, except that I enjoy finding sales.
We’ve discovered hubby really doesn’t like going to the store without a plan for our meals (I tried to do a more common ‘just buy what’s on sale!’ Meal plan early on. He didn’t enjoy it at all). I really don’t mind either way, as I can always invent a new meal with what we’ve got. We’ve also discovered I’m partial to soups, and Childling went vegetarian a week before the quarantine started.
So now we have meat 1-2 times per week, and stick with vegetarian meals otherwise. We weren’t making meat at all until I started craving eggs really, really, voraciously. Considering eating eggs makes me super sick, it was obvious that I wasn’t getting enough protein, so we had to alter our meal choices again.
I’ve started doing exercises whenever I’m alone long enough, so I’m constantly sore, but I’m also not gaining any weight (I may have actually gone down). Childling has definitely lost weight and begun toning their body. I heartily approve! They dance almost every day, which keeps the endorphins up. I’ve been trying to send them outside for an hour every day for vitamin D, but that happens about as often as it doesn’t at this point.
Childling is also now passing all their classes, and making up work from previous semesters with hubby’s guidance, so they might actually pass 10th grade (I definitely thought that was impossible)!! They’ve really worked hard. They are also becoming much more teenager-like. They’re snarky, they complain about everything to their friends, and they whine about being bored pretty often. Otherwise they’re a good kid, and pretty decent company overall.
I’m enjoying the proof that Childling isn’t incapable of learning, they’re just not able to cope with the pressure they put on themself at school, as we’ve told the school repeatedly. Even their therapist is like “Oh, you’re way chiller than I’ve ever seen you, what in the...” I’m just pointing and going “SEE?!”
So yeah, overall for our small family, this situation is pretty good for our mental health and well-being. Hubby goes stir crazy, and Childling is turning into a playboy online, but you can’t have everything, I suppose.

My mom isn’t handling the situation nearly as well, but I think I’ll post about that some other time. Ciao!

Updates

So, had knee surgery last week, easy recovery surgery. They had to remove the meniscus from where it was catching in my joint (bucketpail tear). Recovery is going good.

Now for the real reason I am updating!

Saturday night, I dreamt I talked to my older brother on the phone
He died last October
On the phone, we came to the decision he was calling from an alternate dimension,
And he called to ask me to check on the family
In my dream he had a wife and children and was laughing happily
All things he couldn’t have before
My mom hasn’t dreamed in years, a side effect of her sleep medicine.
So anytime I dream of family, she wants me to call her and tell her
Eventually on Saturday I did
And she said she dreamt of him laughing with kids around him the night before too
But that was all she could remember
I texted my oldest sister, asking if she’d dreamt of our brother
She had, surrounded by kids, laughing
The only sibling I haven’t talked to is in jail, but she likely dreamt it too
The next day, or yesterday? (My days are a little wonky) my oldest sister got into a car accident
She was a passenger, got T boned, she’ll be okay
But my mom called me
“I can’t believe she got into an accident right after Bubba (my brother) told you in a dream to check on the family!”
Because we hadn’t been talking to oldest sister because of some drama
Oh, and all of the dreams happened the very first night after mom placed the pentagrams (my brother was Wiccan) on his urn
So while I’m still sad, I’m feeling better about things

Cartilage tear

Looks like I have a cartilage tear in my L knee. We’ll be seeing a doctor tomorrow to discuss options. Hopefully it’ll heal on its own, but it’s been doing this for years now.

My “I’m fine!” Is losing power!!

So we went to Great Wolf Lodge for Thanksgiving. Took the three kids, met up with Best Friend C there, had a blast. Kids geared up when we arrived, super excited, went on all the rides, ate tons of food that’s terrible fo round, repeated. Good times were had.

....until Thursday morning when I twisted my knee out of joint getting out of a tube after a ride. Then it popped right back out twice more in the next hour. I took a break, chilled with Hubby and C. It popped out twice more between then and finishing lunch. And another three times before returning to the park. By that point I had figured out the movement that popped it out. Forward and to the right? Goodbye my balance, goodbye my leg, hello to oh the paaaiiiin. So I was able to keep it in place much better, despite hubby’s increasing worry. By the time we were going on rides after dinner, it only popped out two or three more times, but it was wearing me out quickly. But I was determined!

It wasn’t likely that we’d be returning here for years at the earliest. As my child says “It was really fun, but there’s only a few rides and you get tired of them eventually, so I don’t really wanna go back.” I didn’t have time to get tired of them. But I was tired of the stairs after the first flight that first day. So it amounts to the same thing.

I didn’t think I’d ever get the opportunity to go with these three again, so I pushed myself to the max, because I wanted to really treasure this vacation. The kids loved it, and so did I. I am fairly certain I tore my ligament with that first ride. My knee has occasionally popped out of joint over the years (usually with certain sitting styles that I know to be careful of), but it rarely pops out without an excessive turn. The second time it popped out was too.... easy. It felt incredibly fragile, and nothing restored it to feeling dependable until I picked up an ace bandage this afternoon. I dearly wish we’d jotted out for a brace yesterday. I would have been able to control it much better with one.

Anyway, that second time made it very clear that something was damaged in a major way. The popping out after that merely drove home the instability and pain, I don’t believe it made it notably worse (the the flashes of pain had me gasping at some points). Poor Hubby was incredibly worried and protective, and I’m concerned I made C worry as well. I hate making ppl worry.

So I went to urgent care when we got home, they set me up with a neat brace and a doctor appt on Monday. They’ll likely order an MRI, and we’ll know what needs to be done from there. They already X Rayed it and found no bones broken. I already knew that though, as broken bones feel significantly different from tissue pain. But hey, I certainly appreciate thorough checking, so I did it with a smile.

I just need to stop walking for the next two days and I’ll be set! I’m fine, see?

Updates, I suppose?

Hm. I haven’t updated since January. That’s a full six months. I’ve probably lost anyone that did regularly follow me, but oh well. Summary:

My older brother is dying of stage four colon cancer. He may not be able to get any life extending treatment soon. Then he’ll likely rapidly decline.
My daughter has done great since school got out. She went to Drivers Ed classes, and now isn’t sure she wants to drive. I’m okay with that.
Animazement wasn’t as fun this year, partially because I was pregnant, and walking in heels and eating pizza were terrible ideas while in that condition.
My baby self-terminated and I had to have an abortion. It was scary, but my husband was as supportive as he could be.
I’ve been reaching out (slowly) to friends from high school. Some are less interested in renewing friendship than others.
I’m trying to be more social, inviting friends for dinner, trying to attend events I think I’ll enjoy, etc. I do better some days than others.
I’m trying to seek therapy, as I’ve noticed a rise in self destructive behaviors. I have a list, and I’m planning to call on Monday.
Hubby is still the best person in the world to me.
I’m sure there’s a lot more, but I’m tired.

Ttyl!

I made up with my mom

but as my friend TJ summed up, Ive forgiven, not forgotten. Honestly even I know it wasn’t a huge deal to anyone but me. I like how he and hubby were supportive though. The way they put it that made me feel less like I was making a mountain out of a molehill? Yeah, but you’re teaching her how to treat you as a fellow human and adult, and that’s always important.

You are correct sir! I’m trying not to downplay how important calling her ‘Kaachan’ was to me. To have her demand I call her Mother was a shock. I was only angry for two or so days, and then I was just disappointed. I really don’t like the woman my mom becomes around my aunt. At first she blustered about how it wasn’t important, she was sorry if she hurt my feelings but she’s not Japanese, and even that she would come up there (here?) and whoop my ass if I didn’t stop my nonsense.

My nonsense being my acceptance that she is ‘Mother’ and not ‘Mom’ ‘Momma’ or ‘Mommy’. I was frigidly polite, didn’t argue, said yes mother, okay mother, you do that mother, and hung up. She even texted me asking what she did wrong, and that she didn’t understand what we were even fighting about. I replied to her saying I’d talk to her when she figured out what she did wrong. She told me when I was ready to talk about it, I could call her.

I didn’t call. For the last two weeks, I’ve called her once and it was to tell her we weren’t coming for MJ’s birthday, as family has been a strong trigger for her and we’d rather minimize her breakdowns. I remained frigidly polite and hung up once my message had been given.

She called me yesterday. Apologized repeatedly. Said she’d just been under so much stress that she snapped. She didn’t realize how much it meant to me to call her that. I can call her that if I want to. Let’s make it like it never happened. I told her I can’t do that. She had to think that in some part of her for it to burst out. My days of calling her Kaachan are over. Honestly, I should have stopped years ago when I became an adult, but I treasured the close feeling it gave me. Telling me to change how I address her is saying she doesn’t want us to be close anymore. She vehemently denied wanting that, and said she just has trouble being considerate of others feelings and she’s working on it.

I think it’s fine if she doesn’t want it, but I’ve called her that for 12 years. She hasn’t complained until I said it in front of my aunt. So that’s how it is. I told her I would let it go and she thanked me. She tried to chat with me, but I was running late for a client and gave her a cordial but not close farewell. I could tell she was still hurt by my lack of warmth. She begged me to call her on the phone again, like I used to.

So I actually wrote this blog weeks ago, but my tablet doesn't support this site very well, so I was unable to post anymore. Basically, it's taken some time, but we're almost back to being the usual. I noticed some hesitance from her when we disagreed about something last night. She was talking about how she couldn't believe you could get a scholarship for being gay, and it 'just doesn't seem right'. I told her I disagreed, that often it means a lack of support from parents, and they need all the support they could get. She backed down very easily and we changed the subject, but it's not like her.

Update: My brother hasn't been able to get treatments for a few months now, so they're trying a new treatment as soon as his blood cell count is up again. Mom said that 'if he can't get treatments, that's it. He's done,' and I've been thinking about that. Isn't he already living on borrowed time at this point? Isn't it enough to treasure each conversation and interaction, knowing it might be the last? It's how I've proceeded, at least.

I think it helps a lot that I already went through the massive grieving months ago by myself. I still get sad, but it's very bearable this way. Maybe I'm strange?

Thanksgiving is Coming

and all through the house, not a shit was given, even from my spouse.
The time is near, and the feelings are clear
We've no time for drama, nor stupid fear.

Our families are dear to us, and we love them to bits,
But with all the pressure of the season upon us, we may have some fits.
I'll protect my own, with all the power I possess,
But I wonder sometimes, how to deal with the stress.

You're definitely worth it, Never doubt that.
But with all the worry, I keep getting fat.
It's good you'll be with me, I couldn't do it alone,
So let's work together, and get on the phone.

I'll cancel with my side, you cancel yours.
We'll have a feast here, and plenty of 'more!'s.
We can relax and be merry, and hear no more "But!"s,
We can roast some marshmallows, some corn, some nuts.

Eventually dear, they'll back off and see,
that family means you, me, and childling makes three.
We need no other, no opinions or 'advise'.
They can shove it back in the hole, where they spew their spites.

I know it won't happen, we're far too dutiful,
But oh, if only, their faces would be beautiful.
So bear with me dear, let's buckle our seats.
We're going in strong, we'll defeat them with feats.

~Just tinkering around while fantasizing about not having to go to Thanksgiving with our families and extended personages that will be stressful and annoying. Hope you enjoyed. If it's terrible, sorry. I just made it up. Love you!

Working out again

So for the past few months, I've been focusing quite heavily on getting our nutrition to the point it should be. This includes contacting a nutritionist weekly to check our menu, making said menu every week, and sticking to it as much as possible. Breakfasts have also been altered to be more nutritionally balanced for me and MJ (Hubby eats fairly well anyway, but MJ has portion control issues). In addition, I have to check MJ's lunch choices for allergies, and to make sure he's adding the appropriate amount of protein, healthy carbs, and not too much sugar. This also means I've been getting up with childling every morning (some mornings I'm more awake than others) since he's started school. Its exhausting.

This week we had alumni weekend at S&M. This included a lot of walking that I don't usually do. I was surprised at how tired I was (and sore!) when I remember how much more walking I did daily when we lived there. So I felt a little embarrassed about my lack of exercise. We've been struggling with MJ's attempts to harm himself, and haven't put in the effort to attend physical activity.

So this Monday, I rearranged our schedule (finally, I've been trying to for weeks!) so we could attend the gym as a family. We did running, games, volleyball, and stretching. Hubby broke my glasses when I tried to prevent him from undoing my work during a game. I was angry, mostly because I like these glasses, and he scratched my face when he broke them. I know he didn't mean to hurt me, but I still felt like it was unfair.

Volleyball was frustrating because the kids playing it weren't good at it, and a couple of them kept flirting and fighting, causing the ball to go everywhere. It wasn't even a real volleyball game, just everyone in a circle passing the ball (badly). So I was sad it wasn't as good as I'd hoped it would be.

At some point, I appear to have injured my ankle, since it was throbbing afterward, when I took my shower and laid down. I ended up going to bed around 10 or so, since I was so tired. I slept pretty well, but I woke up often once Hubby came to bed. My ankle still hurts, and I have five massages today, so I'm not looking forward to how sore I'm going to be at the end of the day today.

I know there's probably some confusion as to why I've been using 'he' and 'his' for MJ. MJ has decided he is transgender, and would like to be referred to as a guy from this point forward. I'm making the effort (though I didn't this weekend, as there wasn't anyone I planned to keep in touch with, and didn't feel like having that conversation multiple times) to use the pronouns he prefers. I don't always, but it works.

He's decided he's a feminine male, so he still likes to wear dresses and such. He's also bought a binder recently, and decided he needs a smaller one, because this one doesn't hurt him. *Rolls eyes* He can barely get it closed, but yeah, he totally needs a smaller one (This is sarcasm, ok?).

I'm surprised at how many people just take his announcement in stride. I know our families won't, and I'm not looking forward to the inevitable explosion. Personally, I'm not sure I believe that he's truly a male at heart, but it's easier to go along with his whims. It's likely to be transient anyway.

We're not allowing any permanent alterations (He asked for his breasts to be removed, same day he announced he would be male) until he's an adult and old enough to pay for the changes himself.  Yeah there's the cost factor, but also, I don't feel comfortable allowing someone to alter their body in an irreversible way when they're on psychotropics.

So I think we're fairly caught up now. Oh, we saw C! Hubby's old roommate came to see us a week ago (he got the date of the alumni weekend mixed up), and we got to hang out. We all went to the Pride Parade together. We didn't get to do much more, and I'm really disappointed about that. I wanted to spend a lot of time with him, since it's been years since we've been together. He's just as easy-going as he used to be.

Okay, I have work to do, so I'm going to go now. Have a good week everyone!

Baby names

I’m only writing these down here because I have a terrible memory, and I don’t want to forget. We talked with my brother, and he asked that a child be named Arwin for him (from the Arwood). I offered Sephira for a girl, and Josen for a boy, but he didn’t like them.

So the tentative plan is now for Artemis Sephira for a girl, and Arwin Calypso for a boy. No common names for our littles. They’re gonna have names to be remembered! Hopefully not for turning psychotic and killing people. Just throwing that out there.

July 1st is going to be branded in my memory now

So today was rather memorable. Sorry, this won't be a happy post.

Today, my brother had a colonoscopy because he wasn't able to keep food down, he couldn't control his bowel movements, and his liver has lesions. I visited him yesterday and he was fairly normal, except for the bowel movement issues. We stayed for a few hours, and then we came home.

I hoped it was just liver cancer. If it was, I could be a match, and I could give him a portion of my liver, and he'd likely be okay. He smelled like cancer. I was worried.

I was right to be. My brother has colon cancer. It's already Stage IV, and it's spread across his body. Its in his liver, his lymph nodes, and he had septic blood. The doctors estimate he has between 3-18 months to live.

He told me he wish he knew what caused it. Remember, he's 38, but mentally he's about 10. So I told him it was a mutation in his body. He's an X man, but not one of the lucky ones. He seemed to understand that, so I hope it was the right thing to say. He said ''I knew I'd have to go some time." and I broke down crying. I'm a little ashamed, because it felt so self-indulgent, but every time I tried to speak, I choked on my tears.

He told me that once he's gone, not to forget to look at the full moon, because he'll be watching. So I won't. I'll celebrate the full moon. Always.

I'm pretty angry. He's already mentally retarded. He's already diabetic. He's already had a terrible time, being abused, misunderstood, mistreated, and stolen from. But I expected him to grow old with me. Mom and I already had plans in place in case of her death for me to take care of him. I was supposed to take care of him.

I'm not sure if I've written this before, but for years now, he's nicknamed me 'Angel'. I wish I was. I wish I could be an angel to keep this from happening. To stop this from hurting him. If I were really an angel, I could do something for him. But I'm not, and I can't. I said something along these lines to him, and he said ''But you're still my angel." Logdamnit, I can't do anything.

I've spent most of the day crying off and on. I hope I run out of tears soon. Why couldn't it have just been in his liver?? I was ready to donate mine! They're removing a portion of his colon tomorrow, to get a tumor out, and sewing it back together. If it doesn't get infected, he'll be able to leave the hospital in a week.

Mom cried so hard when she told me. I want to be there for his surgery, but I have work, and Mia has therapy. There's nothing I can do to help, anyway. Me being there won't help anyone. I'll likely just cause more problems.

I had to tell Mia, because otherwise I knew she'd just worry and become frantic. I'm a little proud of her response: "Well, we'll have to make the rest of the time count!" Yes, we will. We're scheduled to go to the beach on Tuesday, and stay through Sunday. Then I have a week off work. He's about an hour and a half away, so while I'm off work, I may go see him on days I don't have anything scheduled.

I expected to grow old with my big brother, not lose him when we're still so young. How do I explain to future children what a crazy and lovable mess their uncle was? He's been asking me for a baby to spoil for years. I wish I could do that for him. My detestable cousin wouldn't let him hold her baby, and then she gave it away to CPS. I hate this. I hate it I hate it I hate it!!!

MJ's coming out!

She's finally completed enough therapies, and dealt with enough traumas, and finally decided she wants to get better, so she's coming home! We're going to pick her up tomorrow. I was thinking of taking her to a really interesting ramen place in Charlotte for lunch, but after browsing their menu (I enjoyed their food), there's not much that she's not allergic to on it. So I think not.

Maybe we'll get another smoothie. She enjoyed the last one. She'll basically have to live off of the keto diet from now on. And not for asthetics, but due to allergies. Fun stuff. She looked like she would willingly shank my husband for his bread last week.

So, she gets out tomorrow, and Animazement starts tomorrow! i'm super excited!! This year my little brother is also going to come with us, but he'll arrive on Friday, and we'll return him on Monday, have a welcome back party/Memorial Day celebration.

At Animazement, I'm basically gonna look like this:

https://eishiban.deviantart.com/art/Fat-Utena-327444886

and

https://i.warosu.org/data/tg/img/0310/36/1395674739925.jpg

Also? Never ever search for that. Holy shit. I'm a little disconcerted. I wasn't prepared for that.

So, this weekend is hopefully going to be amazing. We've just finished the intake for future therapy for MJ, so yaaaay for that.

I'm bored now, so I'm stopping. Sorry for the five month delay?

Illogicon

We’re attending a convention for sci-fi and fantasy located in Cary this weekend. It was really interesting, and our friend also was able to drop by. It’s always nice to hang out with S, though I worry I’m not a very attentive friend. I’m always tired and was looking everywhere at all the costumes.

I didn’t really take a lot of photos, it felt a little pervy since so many women were dressed scantily. Speaking of, tonight I’m looking forward to a belly dancing competition and a onesie party. I have hopes of making friends here, because that seems to be the point of the con.

I also bought a jack skelington apron from the dealers room, and will likely buy sock kitties for the stockings this Christmas. Five dollars a kitten is decent to me, especially since they’re homemade but well made, not cheaply. But I didn’t end up buying any.

That was Saturday. What I didn’t mention was that I saw my first burlesque show too. I didn’t realize it would involve naked people until they warned everyone to not take photos once pasties were visible. Then I was like, Hubby, you down for this? And when he said yes, I was like, Alright, let’s do this! So we didn’t get home til after 1 a.m.

Hence we overslept the next day, still cosplayed, and only got to attend a few things. I kind of wanted chain mail, but couldn’t justify the expense. Even though it was really cool. Not to mention the leather corsets. Man, those would be awesome.

Today was fun, but cosplaying there was less fun/exciting than it was at Animazement. Either way, I think we’re going to be keeping an eye out for other conventions in future, because this was really different from our other experiences, but not in a bad way.

Toodles!

I feel like writing

My tablet updated and basically kicked me out. I can’t get it working, so now I have an iPad. It’s interesting. Pretty easy to use, but some quirks that I can’t get used to. I love my new case though. It’s really neat.
For Christmas I got an ancestry kit from Hubby like I asked for. As well as a set of dark chocolate oranges. They’re really yummy. I feel like I got something else too but don’t remember it right now.
All I got him was a Smartboy, so he could play his game boy games on his new smartphone which I insisted he finally get. Unfortunately he didn’t get a compatible model, and I bought it so long ago I couldn’t return it. It really sucks and makes me feel rather depressed. He doesn’t like when I spend a lot of money though, so I haven’t gotten him anything else. I didn’t think I would need to, since it was expensive and perfect, I thought. So yeah, I failed him this year.
Mj is doing better recently. She hasn’t done any self harming in over a week, but she was harming the week before Christmas. It’s depressing. She cries a lot when we talk, saying she wants to come home and won’t do it again, yet a week or two later, she’s back to giving into her impulses. I want her home, but I’m more opposed to letting her have the opportunity to kill herself, so she’s staying until they’re sure she’s got control of herself.
I know she’s lonely. I’m lonely too. I’ve done well in not buying too much for her. My New Years resolution is to spend less money. I’m trying to control my own impulses and only buy necessary things while remaining on a reasonable budget rather than one that’s optimistic. When I’m too optimistic and can’t meet the goal, I tend to just give up and buy whatever rather than keeping on target.
Incidentally, I’ve found that I most want to go work out etc when I’m not in a good condition for it. Example? I twisted and bruised my ankle Tuesday night. Today I really wanted to go work out at my gym on my way home. Yes, this is always how it works. I’m so damned contrary. But I love being able to be that way. Like, really love it. So I don’t see myself changing that much.
Thankfully I’ve altered my eating habits slightly so that I only eat when I’m super hungry, and try to eat just enough to stop the hunger pains. This has made some progress in my weight loss, though it annoys me to stay hungry so often. There’s also a fine line that I sometimes cross where I end up sick from not eating soon enough, or my stomach gets upset, but I think it’s worth it.
I’m sure there’s tons of things I could write about, but I’ll end here, since I feel satisfied with what I’ve written so far. Happy New Year!

That awkward moment when...

You're feeling weak and you think 'Oh yeah, I was hungry a couple hours ago. I should eat something.'

Then you keep thinking and 'realize' 'Oh, but I'm really overweight, its past midnight, I don't deserve food.'

And yes, thats the thought you have. Not the friendly, politically correct idea of 'Oh, I shouldn't eat, it may have me to gain too much weight.' No. My body has eaten too much, obviously I've had more than my share, I don't deserve any more food.

So then you're reflecting on the honest thought, and how you're a 'strong, powerful mom' that your child is unhealthily focused on, and 'Why can't you get it together for her sake, if not yours?'

You have seen how she watches every move you make, dissects your decisions with a fine tooth comb, and scrutinizes your every conversation with a magnifying glass. If your husband announces a decision, she shrugs. But you? You need a theory, thesis argument, ten references (she will check) and two virgin sacrifices before she accepts it as truth.

And really? While its irritating as fuck, and you get overly annoyed by it, you either stand by your stance, or you're presented with proof you're wrong and you apologize, thank her for checking, and admit you've learned something new. You don't hold to ideas that are proven false because willful ignorance is something you can't accept, other than in hearing about the news. Your life is depressing enough without that piled on top, thanks very much.

So you continue with your second motto of 'Leave things better than you found them', smile at strangers even when you're scared, organize parts of a shop though you're not buying something, help someone move something and go on about your business. You buy extra food and blankets to keep in your car, just in case someone needs it, and now you're back to food.

So you sigh and acknowledge a weak body is stupid, there's a limit to hunger, go get something from the fridge. You open the door, peek inside, see multiple things you normally enjoy, but you don't want anything now. You feel heavy and unattractive, and its not like your stomach is still growling, that passed hours ago. So you shrug, shut the door, and sigh as you snag your computer to head to bed but decide to whip up a quick 'How I've been' post since it's been a while since you've posted.

And you recognize the awkwardness of posting this, because you're not 'secretly looking for compliments/encouragement/denial' you're just observing a part of your day in an unfiltered post because some days are nice and some nights are bad. And you press publish because you don't think its a shameful thing to have these feelings sometimes.

Update. Heard this today and feel very emotional about it:

Update on situation(s) 10/14

So it's been a tumultuous two weeks.

On Thursday, MJ tried to hang herself.

On Saturday, I and my sister get into an extreme shouting match the likes of which I have quite literally never been in with anyone, let alone my sister. I blatantly told her I stopped being her sister when I had to take her daughter in instead of having my own.

On Monday, the hospital discharged our child to a psych ward without telling us, proclaiming they 'left a voicemail' (but mine's been full for weeks, and Hubby never got a call period. I got one phone call), and when we called to see why they called, they said MJ was still there, nothing had changed. When we arrived to give her homework from school, they told us there was no one there by that name. Of course I am irate, what do you mean, that's my daughter, you'd better have her. They ask us to step aside, the social worker will be here shortly to discuss it with us. This is the same social worker that's terribly insensitive and seems to think most children's parents are at fault for everything. That was fun.

On Tuesday, Hubby and I called old friends to discuss the situation, hoping for sympathy, some new ideas of what could have set MJ off, if there's something we didn't see, if there's treatments they've heard that we haven't, etc. That's definitely not what we got.

We got some interesting questions that were leading, and quite evocative of an interrogation, followed by some gentle allegations that we're too strict (particularly me- Which is true, I'm the strict one), too hard on her (not particularly true, we're fairly gentle in most punishments, and rarely get more than vaguely irritated at her when she doesn't meet one, as the bar isn't set very high to begin with), and don't love her enough (W.T.F.)

Now it's certainly true from a distance, if you see us with her once or twice a year, versus a monthly-esque adjustment into the household, you'll see I'm rather strict with her manners and interruptions, as we're unlikely to see said visitors very often at all, and prioritize them on those rare occasions. When I say rare, I mean I'm that strict possibly 4-5 times a year. Most times, MJ's needs are prioritized, even over friends after they've had their '3 visit rule' met.

It's also true that we use our blogs are a diary of sorts, to vent and acknowledge our frustrations and anger, rather than show them to MJ, or worse, take said frustrations out on her. Most of the things we say in these forums will never reach her ears or eyes, as we realize these thoughts are not appropriate to tell her. If all you really hear of our dealings with her are the blogs, or the times she's pushed us to our limit, you're likely to have a skewed idea of our relationship.

But frankly, when a child has attempted suicide, and the parents are struggling, when that child has yet to be released from the hospital, it is never okay to imply that the parents are at fault for not loving her enough. It's not only unhelpful for if it were true: they can hardly suddenly increase their love for a child, it's there or it's not. It's also hurtful, as it's saying the parents aren't worthy of having said child, and are at fault for a child's decision.

It's of particular note that the child made the attempt at school, because she KNEW we pay too much attention to her when she's home to be successful there.

Since then, we've internalized a bit of what they said, questioning ourselves, our relationship with MJ, and our relationship with the ones who believe we're unsuitable parents. Frankly, if we don't love her enough, I'm quite confident no other parent can love her more. If we don't show our love with her enough, that's something we can't attempt to do more than we've been doing before this second attempt, as we've already done as much as we can to show her she's loved since the first. And in final, with such a close-minded view, and refusal to acknowledge they can be wrong, we're still unsure whether we'd like to continue a friendship with such unsupportive friends. We've decided to wait and see what our feelings are after we've finished with the crisis we're currently living in. The final relationship is by far the least of our concerns when our daughter's life is in danger.

Since that Tuesday, we've also looked into the first attempt and second attempts commonalities and found that her first attempt was three days after seeing her bio mother, and this one was six days after. When we visited her on Wednesday, she admitted she'd kept her phone calls as short as possible, and talked to us as little as possible to keep herself from being comforted and loved so she can stay determined to try again. She cried and asked why we had to come, when she wasn't expecting it, and couldn't prepare to be off-putting.

Today, Saturday, we spoke with bio mom, who said she wanted to back off on meeting MJ, as she had finally internalized our conversation from the previous Saturday, and feels that it's her leaving MJ at the end of the visits that is setting MJ off. The conversations they have could have an impact, but my thought is that MJ wasn't stable from the start of the meeting due to her friend's attempt a few weeks ago. She wasn't warned that she'd see her bio mom, and that likely wrecked her equilibrium, as she almost immediately was using an online consultation after she left her.

It certainly doesn't help that she feels isolated and bullied at school, and I was too nauseas that week to work out with her (she went with her dad instead), so she likely felt a lack of support compared to most weeks. We still talked about her day, what she did, what she liked, what she looked forward to, what she didn't like, just like every day. But it wasn't enough.

As both our parents have stated, we've given everything we can give and it's not enough right now to keep her stable. She needs professional assistance to get a cushion to help her deal with feelings that overwhelm her. All the love and acceptance in the world won't save her from herself when she's drowning in her own feelings that she hasn't learned to assimilate well enough.

Unfortunately, I know this from experience myself. These last two weeks have been so stressful, I'm slipping in and out of depression. I was reminded on Thursday just how difficult and pointless life seems when you're depressed. I woke utterly bereft of any feeling beyond grief and weariness. What was the point of getting out of my bed, when it's just going to be a long, listless day without my daughter, separated from my husband, littered with tears from grief? Why continue to exist? What's the point? I ended up running late, but I got up, dressed, and on my way to work. I stayed close to tears for hours while I worked, trying not to give in and worry my clients. At one point, I texted Hubby in despair because I couldn't remember how to smile and every time I tried, it looked wrong.

It finally faded away enough to let me get through my day. I'm quite good at pretending, after all. But that night we went to Costco, and they had a 58" teddy bear on sale. Now normally, I ask Hubby for extravagances before I put them in the cart. This time, I didn't hesitate. I picked up the first one to catch my eye, and put it into the cart. Then I looked right at Hubby and waited. He didn't even quibble. What he did do was check it over and declare it wasn't good enough, because it had some straggly hair. So I picked a different one, he looked it over, and I put it into the cart. This teddy is nearly 5 feet long, thicker in the middle than I am, and so soft and cuddly. I smiled without effort for the first time that day.

The social worker and case worker for MJ are looking into long-term care for her in a psych ward to get her stabilized. They say it's not uncommon for a chemical imbalance to happen during puberty, and after a year without suicide attempts, the danger has usually passed and they can begin weaning her off the drugs slowly. The therapist Hubby and I have been seeing said she's seen cases where the child wakes up one day and just no longer feels hopeless, and will be fine. I'm kind of banking on that, and willing to wait and keep working toward it. The therapist said that working with children like this is like an abusive relationship, and therapy is simply wiping our wounds before going back in the ring, ready to deal with her fairly and gently until she's able to handle more.

I'm relaxing my honesty stance. I've always been strictly honest to the point of being painfully so, but I don't feel that's necessarily in MJ's best interest right now. 'The truth hurts' is quite certainly true, as proven on last Saturday when I tore into my sister without a single lie, but plenty of truths that she never knew, and was not ready to face until it was screamed into her ear. My words are still in her head, as proven by our conversation tonight, when she said she felt backing off, initiating contact when the psychiatrist suggests it, starting slowly with letters, then phone calls, then visits would be best.

So I'm relaxing it. I'm tired of adhering to being strictly honest, and it doesn't seem to be beneficial for the most part, beyond all children immediately believing me when I assure them I'm being truthful. Look forward to some entertaining tall tales in future. It's kinda fun to see how well I'm believed when I'm bullshitting. Also, Hubby? Jackalopes aren't real, but your face when I told you they were and you believed me certainly was amusing. Love you!

Another Attempt

 Well, she made it five months before trying it again.

Mia attempted suicide again today. She was amused when I cried. She laughed when she admitted she didn't bring her lunch box to school because she didn't expect to live to lunch. She said she doesn't see a point in living in the same breath as she says she doesn't want the younger littles to imitate her. I think she's amused at everything right now. 

So she went to the bathroom during class changes, and decided while she was peeing, that it was a good time to die. She had written a suicide note early today in class and so she took the string from my jacket (that she borrowed today), tied it to a rafter while standing on the toilet, and jumped. 

The only reason she didn't die is because she was too tall. Her feet could touch the ground. She has some superficial scratches around her neck and a red stretch mark in the front of her neck, but otherwise is unharmed. 

The irony is that there was no warning. Her plan was actually sound, her letter well written. She's a manipulative little birch. She said she saw no point in living. 

Alright then. I think something in me has broken now. One day we're going to come home to a dead child, or get a call from her school that she's finally succeeded. I feel a bit like a parent whose child has gone off to war. Difference being they die for a good cause. 

She's at war, but with herself. I'm grieving and angry, she seemed surprised to hear I'm angry. Hubby is actually quite upset, but says he's not angry. Maybe the anger will come soon. 

Why is it like this? 

Where did we fail? 

Are all children we have going to have going to be like this? 

Is there anything that will salvage this child? 

Even if she makes it to adulthood, is she just going to keep trying until she succeeds? 

I think I need counselling for myself. I can feel my depression rising rapidly to consume me. I'm feeling listless with bouts of grief bubbling up and bursting out. My eyes and nose and cheeks hurt. I hate crying. 

MJ when explained what grief means asked why I feel loss. I'm baffled as to how to answer that. 

She just said "hey, at least I didn't start drugs like I'd planned to do this summer." I'm fairly certain she's feeling offset because hubby and I haven't torn into her or anything. She's trying to push us into something. Maybe she feels she needs to be punished. She just asked about juvie. This feels like validation of my theory. 

She's pushing us away, and this time, I'll likely let her. How do you hold on to someone that wants to leave so badly? 

Childling Ramblings

So today MJ asked Hubby if she could go back to the mental hospital. Today at school, she said her SS teacher told her she was 'ignorant, selfish, and mean', and it rather impacted her badly. When Hubby asked if this was why, she said it was only 20%, and that she didn't want to explain any more to him.

So when she went to bed, I strode in, pushed her over, and cuddled up to her back. Asked what's wrong, and refused to budge. For you future parents, this is a wonderful way to get your child to be honest and hear what they think. At first, she insisted nothing was wrong, but when I just laid there and held her closer, she started rambling.

She said that when people find out she likes girls, they look at her different. One group of girls she was friendly with completely stopped talking to her after she told them. They basically said they didn't want to talk to her because they didn't want her to hit on them, even though she said she wouldn't. Told me that privately she didn't feel like they were her type, but didn't tell them that because it would hurt their feelings.

She said the top two rumors at school were about her, and fighting, separately. She's scared of what will happen when someone eventually puts the rumors together and decides she needs to be fought. She says she's tough, and she knows she can fight, but she doesn't want to hurt anyone, so she's going to get hurt, and she's always scared someone's going to hurt her at school.

This led to her feeling that she's never safe. It's better when she's with us, but she doesn't feel safe anywhere, and can't explain what would make her feel safe. That other adults tell her to tell them when she feels unsafe, but she never NOT feels unsafe, so it's a joke to make a statement like that to her. She explained that she always feels like there's people around, that she's being followed or watched, and it's worst going and coming back from the bus stop. I personally think this is her paranoia acting up, but it doesn't mean she doesn't feel uncomfortably on display.

From there she admitted how her humor is off putting. She knows it is, and she tries not to laugh at inappropriate times, but it's hard for her. An example she gave was a boy is riding is bicycle and he dies. To her, that's funny. I explained that to others, it's horrifying, not because he died necessarily, but because there's an empty hole where he was for his friends and family. She admitted that's sad, and I told her to focus on that with other people, because no one will understand that she finds death funny.

She mentioned that every day she wakes up, and cries because she didn't die in the night and now has to get up. She doesn't hurt herself to die, she hurts herself because it makes her happy. She likes the pain, and it makes her feel good, she isn't trying to die, but she wants to.

I told her that who she is now is not who she'll be later. That I'm so excited to see what she'll become in five, ten, fifteen, twenty years from now. When she came from the hospital, her mother and I would lay in bed and her mom would talk about what she wanted for MJ, and it boiled down to being happy. MJ snorted and said that would never happen. I began explaining how age changes you in many ways. That who I was as a teen is not who I am now.

At that point she chimed in with how she's recently realized she has a 'Runa-complex'. Basically, she was incredibly let down when she came to live with us and I didn't have long blonde hair, thin waist, and sweet manners. She said that who I was then, shocked her, because I was no longer perfect, and she fought me so much because she couldn't reconcile who I was with who I became. She said I was more immature, and that shocked her too much. She said that recently she's realized I wasn't immature, I was just free.

And she's right. I'm much freer than I ever was before I went to college and got married. It shows in my non bullshit policies. She admitted that even though I'm not perfect anymore, she'll still kill someone if they mess with me, because she still admires me and loves me. It's sweet, but I told her I was fairly sure I could kill them myself, thanks. She laughed and agreed that I'm really strong.

It reminds me of how she insists that I should cosplay as Tsunade from Naruto or Olivier Mira Armstrong from FMA-Brotherhood. She's Armstrong's sister, and she's strong and scary as hell. Every character she feels I'm suited for is blonde, strong, and outspoken. They're called 'fearsome and commanding' for a reason, basically. It's shocking to me that her image of me is so strong, when I don't feel that I am, but I'll just have to keep trying to live up to it and hope it helps her become stronger too.

I'm not going to give an analysis or prognosis of these things she discussed with me, I just wanted a log of it for future reference. She's doing a project for me tomorrow and Friday where every hour she'll write what she's thinking in a notebook and create a 'POV log' for me, to help us and her psychiatrist understand her better.

Speaking of, she doesn't like her medicine, and wants a new one. She's scared of becoming a drug addict and has threatened to throw her medicine away if we up the drug anymore. Her psych lady has suggested upping the dosage before, and with these insecurities popping up again, I'm certain she'll bring it up again. *sigh*


https://youtu.be/clKAdQnwJ7A

First Day with MJ at work with me- What a parent must be

So it's finally summer! The season children anticipate, and I dread. With MJ's recent antics, we've decided it would be the height of foolishness to let her mind herself for any extended period of time, which means we're taking turns hauling her to work with us. Today was her first day with me, and it was hectic.

My day started at 8 am, getting everyone up and off in the car. We dropped off Hubby, and voom voomed to my massage job for a massage at 9 a.m. We got in about five-ten minutes before 9, got my room set up, dropped kid off in the break room with strict orders to stay there and be quiet, and began my first session. MJ seemed very bored and even disheartened that she basically needed to exist in a small 6 x 6 room for several hours, but there wasn't much else I could do with her. After my first session (very nice athlete, first time working on him), I had a bit of time before the next (20ish minutes) and asked if MJ wanted to help me set my room up (mostly so she could get out of the room for a bit, it would have been faster to change the room by myself to be honest, but I had the time). She agreed with almost worrisome enthusiasm, and I made sure to compliment her when she did something right, and show her how to do something correctly without much caustic annoyance. I felt bad that she lit up so easily over a few easy compliments.

Then I was off to my next session, with my non-English speaking client arriving early. It wasn't until I put hands on him that I remembered him, and the session proceeded fairly smoothly after that, though I never turned him over and stayed on his back the entire session this time and I'm not sure if that's what he wanted, but he doesn't speak enough English for me to ask him, so.... After his session, I invited MJ to my room again, and had her do the things I taught her an hour previously, and showed her a few more things she could help with. She commented that it was like she was an intern, and she seemed delighted about it.

She actually does have potential as a massage therapist, so I think that could be a good compromise for our 'continuing education' option for her. It's a very good skill-set, and will usually mesh VERY well with a student's availability. It'd provide a livable income while she pursues a second job set to supplement it, so I definitely wouldn't be against sending her to massage school.

Then it was back to the small room that was too hot (she and I both were hot in it, but there wasn't anywhere else for her), while I concluded my last session, then rushed off to my next job. The road I normally take to get there was closed off, so I had to a take a longer detour that made me about five minutes late. This job was teaching English to a Japanese family, and she's met the kids before, so it was nice. It was incredibly chaotic, and the mishmash of languages left me a little blindsided, but it was interesting.

There were times I felt indignant that MJ wasn't answering their questions (or even appearing to pay attention), but sometimes that was because it was asked in Japanese and I didn't notice, and sometimes it was just MJ daydreaming or something. I was trying to work out of the work book with H, while HM and T played dominoes with MJ next to us. It was a cacophony of noise and I felt overcrowded, so maybe MJ was feeling that too.

We ended with trying to sing the Star Spangled Banner (H asked me to teach it to her), and then I was rushing off again.

This time we had an appt with her therapists (both at the same time, for the first time). I dropped MJ off at the front and went to park in the parking deck, so she was 10 minutes late, but I was 20 minutes late. Even so, I walked in with her second therapist anyway, so I didn't miss anything. Then the one I walked in with asked me and the other therapist to leave so she could check in privately with MJ. Neither of them told me what was discussed, and I'm just leaving it alone. I don't even want to know, really.

While they were doing that, I spoke with the other therapist about MJ's wish to be adopted. She suggested we give her a positive response, but not a 'Yes, we'll adopt you,' more like a 'How about in X months, if you still want it, we'll pursue it.' On the one hand, I like this approach, and want to suggest when she turns 15 (so a year and a half), if she still wants it we'll do it. Actually, thinking about it, maybe next summer would be best. She could change her name over the summer and start high school as a K instead of an M if that's what she really wants.

On the other hand, I have this niggling feeling that we've had this conversation with her before, and told her something like that, and she agreed to it, but it was so long ago, I can't even recall about when this topic came up. I don't want to give her this same wishy washy 'In the future,' or 'One day' thing over and over. It's not fair to her.

So in Hubby's recent post, he's stated that he believes it's too late for her, and he sometimes wants to give her up. I've thought about it and thought about it, and my response is this: For months and years, he has repeatedly told me that as a mother, it's my job to nag her into cleaning things to my satisfaction, to nag her to do better at this, to do that correctly, etc. I don't agree with that and I'll explain why in a little bit, but it's certainly true that as parents, we have a job. I believe this job is: When a child can't believe in themselves, the parent has to believe for them. When a child doubts, the parent has to be adamant. When a child fears, the parents must be brave. Our job right now in her most turbulent years is to believe in her, encourage her, and accept her.  If she ends up a prostitute, so be it, I'll find some way to continue to love and support her anyway.

Right now, we have to look at her and not see a failure, but a work in progress. No story is set in stone until you carve it in yourself. I believe she has great potential. She looks around and tries to see what could be improved. She looks at us, and sees the good and bad. As hormone driven, brain-rattled teen, she's gonna spew the bad more than the good. The improvements she wants will come out as complaints right now, and the attitude is gonna drive us crazy, but she's a good kid. She's kind, and loving, and wants to help others enough that it hurts her when she can't. Please don't be blinded by her crazy, by her biomom, or by her barriers. As long as I see hope in her eyes, I will maintain hope in mine. That's my response to it being 'too late' for her. It is never too late to make a change.

In response to the nagging mother statements hubby has made, I already verbally responded to him. This is kind of a 'just so you remember' moment. I believe what I told him boiled down to this: I can nag and whine and bitch and verbally brow beat her into doing things how I want them done. She'll have fits, she'll cry, we'll fight, and we'll make up. But nagging makes me into someone I hate, and I don't want to hate myself. Nagging will get the job done at the cost of self-hate, increased anger between everyone, and long, simmering resentment sometimes. What will we get out of it? A clean house to come home to. But that clean house we want? Together, we can clean the house properly and have everything how we want it in two hours. Why would I go the path of self hate for something we can fix in a few hours of working together? When the house needs to be clean (as it needed to be this weekend), we can do it together. When it doesn't, we'll let her continue to practice cleaning until she gets so proficient at it that I don't have complaints anymore. Just as she's a work in progress, so are we. Let us love and focus on important things, rather than immaterial things such as the level of cleanliness we live in regularly.

....This turned out really long. Sorry?

I think this song applies pretty well to the topic at hand:



This song is pretty hilarious to me, and I like it, but now I know it's JB, I'm a little less amused at it:



I just like this song, period, and it's a pretty recent one:



This song makes me think of MJ sometimes, but I also find myself impressed by the honesty and the emotion in the song. Makes me respect the artist, even as I want to pat him on the back:



This song is so cute and risque at the same time, I love it now. It's also catchy and easy to sing: