mom-me

it has been a lifetime. LIFE. TIME. since i've lived with my baby. my love, my little one. whose not so little anymore. and i just have to say this, a woman is nothing, no thing, without her children. i can't even really explain it. it's something about the comfort of a mother, the way a mother soothes, i only know how to hold, to kiss, to comfort in person, not remotely.

so, for this brief moment, this beautiful child will be with me again, for this instant. i will be present. we will laugh, we will fight (that's a certainty), and we will love, furiously. that is the one thing i am capable of, loving. deeply.

listening to john mayer, and he sings,

i know the love we send out comes back (or something like that),

and i believe that too. it's all i understand. even when it comes back in ways we don't expect, or don't even recognize as love.

i know there are limitations, we're all fucked up here. no one has a market on healthy. no one. if they look like they do, it's because their shit is not the kind you can see. if they admit it, it's just because they are honest. those are the cats i dig. the honest ones. don't tell me you're fine if you're fucked up, and i know you're fucked up because we all are.

it's those people who can laugh and cry with me, who can fight and laugh, dance and scream with me that i love. the real people. however fucked up they are. i'm fucked up too. i don't ask for perfection, don't expect it, from anyone. and when i do, that's my bad. no one, no fucking one is perfect. ever.

fuck is my favorite word, has been for a while. ;) just thought i'd mention it.

anywhoo, my baby. back.

even for a moment.

does the six armed woman have a six armed child.

you better believe she does. she's powerful, that one. it radiates from her. it won't be easy, i know that. it's a lot of arms to keep from struggling against each other. but we'll figure it out. we'll learn to love each other again. and, we'll remember how to laugh.

that's the best thing about our time together, we laugh, a lot.

next week, we start working with the herd again. there are eight of them now. so we meet three new horses. and my girl's riding instructor said,

i've missed you so much and wanted to call. i went away for five days and couldn't relax because you weren't here.

which was wonderful praise, since we love her horses and being around them. i can't wait to see them again, my girl tells me bitty's sweet spot has moved.

it's okay love, we'll find it again.

and she's excited as i am.

two day nap

so, i have barely gotten out of bed the past two days, it is how i spend my days off. which will have to change soon, as my kid is moving in. i push really hard when she's underfoot, and so, life is about to change again.

i understand we have limited time on this planet to make a mark.
i don't know what kind of mark i'll make, but really, at this point, i'm not overthinking that. i'm just flowing with the momentum that has brought me to this point.

i ran into my belly dance instructor, who gave me the biggest hug and said,

i miss you.

and i miss her, terribly. summer is hard because i lose touch with a lot of things that really ground me. belly dance, namely. my instructor, as well. i would take her summer classes just to shorten the time away, but found yoga didn't do it for me.

so we're talking, and i told her how where i'm at is where i've come from solely on momentum. so i don't know where i'm headed or what's coming.

i don't put a lot of pressure on myself to plan each step. i live by intuition. something else i've learned.

and, so, she says,

i've got plans for you. you don't know it yet, but i've got plans for you.

and i just smiled and said,

yay for plans for me.

she tells me pilates will change my body in four weeks. we'll see. i could use a change. a challenge.

i'll have to start cooking again, regularly. which is fine, i used to do this for a living, being a mom. but, now it will have a different edge. this young lady will have a lot to contend with and i should really get up, clean my apartment, and rearrange, becuase i need to find a dresser for her and a place for it.
but we'll see how it goes.

i think a nap is in order.

lap swam

so yesterday, i jet out after my kid calls. a stalker must take a break eventually, and i race to the pool. i only have an hour tops, so we get in and she has these diving toys, the way it works is, we usually swim laps until i warm up (i can't keep the body temp lately, go figure, which bodes well for the decreasing layer of insulating fat).

so i toss these things out seemingly at random, and we race for them. back and forth down the length of the pool. i toss them out in front of us all the way across the pool and so we go racing to get them. i start out getting them all because i can swim the side breadth of the pool with one breath, and she has to come up. so i do a clean sweep, and she races faster each successive time with me getting fewer and fewer.

i don't "let" her win, i genuinely race her, but it pleases me to see how fast she's swimming now. while we're not masters of form, we are dragging our asses back and forth across the pool for hours on end. this is good news. particularly since she is of the ds generation, and doesn't do shit. (maybe that is what ds stands for ;)

i don't either, dont' get me wrong. aside from standing and manual labor at my job, i really am a slug. i admit it.

so, sometimes we clock each other, she in retaliation, me, because i've six arms flailing through the water. note: don't swim too near a six armed woman unless you want to get clocked.

and sometimes, i come up under her, because i swim deep in the pool, right at the bottom (it's only about four feet deep, so it's not that deep), but i like to brush the bottom of the pool, and drive my arms through, it's very zen for me.

and i will come up and tickle her belly and i can hear her under water giggle really loud. it's very cute.

she's such a girl.

so occassionally, i tickle, she giggles, and we swim on. she gets mad at me, and i throw the toys out again. we get over it, i figure, exercise is more than a good way to burn off excess energy, anger, angst, what have you, it's just good clean fun.

the water has been particularly nice of late because summer finally hit here and it feels like hell opened up and we're living in it.

but ah, that is my penchant for the dramatic.

to the pool for three hours, then i climb out of the water, put on my work clothes and go to work all chloriney. it's rather nice, i probably stank, but whatever. at least i'm cool and refreshed. if not rested.

that, it seems is for another time. another life.

and arizona calls. i must buy my ticket so i go. so i make myself take this path and enjoy. playing with adults for three days, can't wait.

so fight.

i had begun to question a lot of things about my life, namely, why every damn thing is a battle for me.

i asked her, after she inquired why things were the way they were.

i asked her if my power is derivative.

.

you empower others. yours is not derivative.

why is everything a battle?

because it's who you are. be difficult. it's okay.

and i cried. she tapped my waters again.

i love her and she knows it. that's good. it is, perhaps, the most important part of me, that people know when i love them. i do not hide it. i do not feign it. it just is. when i love someone they get my unwaving allegiance.

we love whom we love,

i said to him. because i think he was trying to dissuade me. to stifle my enthusiasm. but it cannot be dampened. it is what it is. i no more control it than i can control myself around him.

i take liberties. that is what i do. i really try not to, but before i know it, i've got my foot creeping up his shorts again, and he's trying to digest. it is what it is.

i begin to wonder, is taking liberties what we all do?

who knows. perhaps it's just the ballast for my fight, my l'amour. my sensuality.

come in closer so the battle arms don't take you out, it's safe here, where you can hear my heart beat.

because that is all that matters to me.

and she said to me,

be who you are.

.

and i said,

yes.

derivative

as i flail about my life, six arms swinging, swaying, mesmerizing, i find that i do alot of battle. i'm not sure if this is common in other people's lives or peculiar to mine. the many wars of suzanne rae deshchidn, or something like.

and yesterday, before it got real bad, i went by my store and found the place had rallied around me, and championed me to the boss who found out how i was hounded last week.

she called me an asshole (which was a lie)

and my boss said,

so were you?

which i found funny, particularly if it were true. but even in untruth still amuses me.

i rise to champion those who need me whenever i can. in whatever way i can. it is what we do for each other. part of the calling, i guess. you don't befriend a six armed woman unless you need someone to cover your back.

i don't care about everyone,

i told her.

just a few people. the rest of them can go fuck themselves.

this is how i see it. i can only rally for my clan. those who stumble into my inner circle. those who find their way into my heart.

but i'm tired of fighting. i need a break. yet, am not sure if it's how i'm wired. does the warrior get a break? is he not ever defending against intrusion?

who am i to think this is my role.

i feel brave around her,

i said.

i wonder if my power is derivative.

that is the question i ponder. i do need people. not masses of faceless throngs, but the few, the ones i love, who love me as they can. those people keep me alive. make my stay on this planet interesting, to say the least.

i am not easy to be around, i understand this. particularly since i'm always ready to strike. to defend.

but then, there are those who hear me cooing in my sheets. who find the quiet gentle arms (there are a couple), and manage to get in close enough that the other four don't take them out.

my power then, is not derivative. it is, simply, mine.

will this be scary?

it was, perhaps, the strangest conversation i've had of late. and some pretty weird shit happens to me on a regular basis.

but i ran into the ex at the library. he was looking through videos, and i picked one up, instead of dodging out of his sightline, i held up a flick and asked,

will this be scary?

maybe. who's it by?

it wasn't a full blown, hello how are you conversation by any stretch of the imagination. it was just, a, you know me, tell me if i'll like this kind of cut to the chase conversation.

i asked another question, without looking at him, then walked away.

it was strange. strained. but what can you expect. it's been over six months now. nearly eight.

every day i'm glad i did it. i made the right decision, it just complicates things so much.

ease has never been my wish. i just want peace. p.e.a.c.e. whatever that means, however that looks. for all my people, for those i love and have loved. i have no ill will toward any of them.

i only hope they know it. that someday they will come to understand.
we do the best we can.

why such compassion

you have not been out in the sun,

i said
for he looked faded to me. i, the darker, which was unusual. sadness locks him away, but i hardly think it sadness over me. it is merely sadness.

we will try to be reasonable, and come to terms on our own.

but i wonder if i will ever be comfortable with this attempt to resolve what eludes us. to find peace where none has ever really been.

but for her, we struggle together to make amends.

to come to some agreement we can both, as her parents, live with. live by.

i do not want to be unreasonable. but neither do i want to be gullible.

at work, the jerk had a family crisis today, and while i did not utter a word to him before he said hello to me, i did reply. because i have no stake in being cruel.

i will respond in kindness if kindness is given.

it is when you are a jerk, you will bring out the bitch in me.

and tomorrow is another day. who knows what it holds.

i've lingered here, restful. grateful for a good day.

and sleep beckons me. i look forward to this weekend, to three days of being able to rest.

wrong bitch, wrong day.

so, i get the slacker talk today because i sit down for a ten minute break, which i'm due, btw. and i'm not even alone. i'm with a customer, trying to be cordial. so, it's not like i was even getting a ten. sigh.

then, the guy in charge, or supposedly in charge, starts trying to intimidate me.

wrong bitch, wrong day dude.

i don't back down and he says,

this is a waste of time.

sure, but everyone wastes time, why is it such an issue when i do it.

literally, seven hours into my eight and half hour day, i finally get my lunch. there simply was no time before that. and this guy is calling me ME of all people a slacker.

unfuckingbelievable.

and i'm getting shit for being the heavy and doing my job when i had to. love it. love working with kids. it's a piss and moan festival, there is no real reason or logic to any of it. basically, the person who gets the most people to dog pile the one on the right side (or perceived wrong side is probably more accurate), wins.

trouble is, six armed woman don't go down without a fight.

and, kids, be forewarned. she ain't goin' down at all.

they don't know how strong i am.

they have no idea.

slowwwww

i finished my packet, i just had about ten pages to write, which, for me, is no big deal. it was the analytical bullshit. i cranked it out in about two hours, while playing vampire wars (unfortunately, i'm hooked kids), and bullshitting on facebook.

now, i'm going to stay in bed the rest of the day. i contemplated going to the gym. to the pool. but bed sounds best. i'm tired of saying how tired i am, so i'll try not to lament the lack of pizzaz in my step, the lack of vim in my vigor anymore. it just is what it is.

had a conversation, slightly disconcerting with the pussycat yesterday who is an overinformer just like me. i went in about forty five minutes early yesterday just to talk to him because he soothes me somehow. i don't know. anyway, i kept following him around and continuing the conversation as he was preparing to leave, and he ultimately said something shocking but i took it in stride because a. i've been married and know how men really are. b. i'm not shockable.

so he said,

i'm just lazy.

no you're not. you're tired. if you were lazy you wouldn't want to work one job, you have three.

see, i've been hearing this guy is lazy from him, from everyone. but i don't see it. i understand tired. tired i get. but lazy is a different breed altogether. he finally saw my point and said,

you're right.

which always makes a girl happy. tell them they are right, but mean it.

so i'm off today, having just finished my paper, my mental load is now nil. i am not inclined to even get out of bed, i am lying here typing on my belly. won't even bask in the sun today. i'll just stay in and drift in and out of consciousness. if nothing else, it's good for the writing. and since i just submitted almost every last new piece of writing i have, i better get to it.

alpha time baby, here we come.

can't say

i'm not grateful for them not letting me leave until i have rescheduled teeth maintenance. apparently, i need it. looking after myself isn't one of my fortes. what can i say, bad habits die hard.

but yesterday, when it felt like they shoved a folding chair in my mouth and opened it, i was trying not to drown in my saliva, and they finally remembered i was there and it wasn't the hood of a car they were working under--and suctioned me. my arms fly up and i start tweaking because the little latex gloves they wear tickle my mouth and the work being done seems to always be deep in my mouth so i drown pretty rapidly. hate that.

the conversations they don't need to have include flesh eating viruses, especially when a. i can hear them. (which i can, i'm right there, they are working in my head) b. the dentist is wearing a bandage on her face. c. i can't ask clarifying questions (have you asked questions with people's hands in your mouth lately? not gonna happen).

i got a chatty hygenist too. she didn't ask me yes or no questions either. things like, how many children do you have? where are you from? shit like that. meanwhile, she's digging around in my mouth and she's nice and all, but i just want to suffer through my biannual torture, and get on with my life.

so the dentist numbs me up and i realize, they walk up to you with those big needles out of sight. then they spring 'em on you. long needles, injecting stuff into your head. usually i'm good with whatever they give me but yesterday i needed a second shot of something. and then, back to work, drilling away like a road crew working the street.

and i crank metallica just so i can get through it. i'm a wimp, what can i say.

but if they didn't pester me for my next appointment, i wouldn't be falling over myself to go back. at least my kid has really good teeth and never needs work. she's only ever had one cavity in her life. gotta love that.

i don't think i like dentists much. even though mine is very kind. and, perhaps gentle. i don't know. her hands feel like they are huge and she's always digging around in my head. not good. so not good.

schemes

would you consider.

yes,

he says.

and i wonder.

a lot of things are up in the air right now. where my girl will be. where i will be. what tomorrow holds (but that is always up in the air). for now, i am just grateful, reveling in the sweetness of reunion. to be found. cherished. remembered.

i thought, for so long, that i was the only one who remembered the way i remember. but he spent an hour tonight reminding me of who i am. where i came from. my roots.

they've been buried so long. and all i knew back then was pain.

you always looked like you had so much to say, but wouldn't let yourself. or couldn't find the words.

so when i signed his book i wrote,

thank you for remembering the girl who could not find her words until now.

i have them now. utterance.

but even so, i cry. cry with delight. cry with awe. cry with wonder.

it's a good cry. the best cry i've had in years. and the schemes i can cook up. i hope i can get off work to make it happen. i have to get off work. have to.

something about a road trip, and the mascarade ball where i'll be a belly dancer and actually have to choreograph something for the guest of honor.

you will dance for me?

yes. of course.

the way it looks from here, i'll fly out to my old haunt, and meet up with a long lost friend. we'll do the ball, then either drive back to la, or fly out from there. likely we'll do a return trip. kids. you understand.

but it will be wonderful. my feet on the dashboard, the tunes cranked. all that time to catch up.

i don't know. i don't know how it will be. what tomorrow holds. but then, i've never known. all i can say right now is reunion is sweet. and i'm loving every minute of it.

never forgotten

i thought i was the only one who held memories dear, who loved people i'd lost, who had slipped through my fingers. and here you are. here you are. loving me.

it's hard to describe, what this feels like. it feels good.
good is hard to quantify. hard to get down in words, because it's so elusive. so transient. that's why i never trust it. it goes away too fast. whereas pain, with all the deadening, all the dulling i've done to get past the pain in my life, it was still there. throbbing in my brain like some bad tooth with gnarled roots.

but joy. happiness. sweetness.

how do you describe this?

i'm giggling again. my god. like a schoolgirl. it's crazy.

i'm laughing with the kids at work. they are wondering what has come over me.

and everything is okay.

the soundman came in today,

sorry i haven't called.

no worries. things happen when they should. you can't rush them or they go bad.

exactly, i was trying to tell someone that today.

this is how our conversations go. we are on the same wavelength. oddly enough.

poor guy, just like me.

so, i wait. not patiently, i never wait patiently. but i occupy my time with what is required of me. by necessity. by demands made upon myself to keep myself moving forward. i'm as sad and fucked up as the next guy, but i refuse to stall out.

i think, when i finally woke up, when i finally swallowed that blue pill (or was it red?), i was amazed at what awaited. though yesterday in my haze of exhaustion, rounded out by a migraine at ten pm. i just had to muddle through.

i'm not always giggling, that's for damn sure. i'm lost. completely fucking lost. sometimes, though, i get it right. sometimes, though, i remember there are people who love me, and whom i love. even if i haven't seen hide nor hair of those people for twenty seven years. they have not forgotten me, as i have not forgotten them. and to be remembered, to be sweetly sought after all this time. to be embraced in words. there is nothing like it.

no thing.

and i am, once again, grateful.

because i believe in love. the transformative power of it.

and sometimes, every now and then, i get to revel in it just a bit.

adrift

the chief is back from ecuador. i have slept all day. only now do i rise and attempt some semblance of schoolwork. i've read five books, may try to cram in a sixth. but at the moment, i'm adrift.

so i will let the waters take me where they may and enjoy the journey.

i will jump through the hoops i've designed to be in my path. it is how i move forward. i cannot plan more than this. i cannot navigate the day without some external impetus. thus, the degree.

and i try to let the six armed woman lead me. to watch her swell with power, and to embrace it as my own. she is, in fact, me. i have always been this powerful. i just had not fathomed the benefit of four more arms.

and i am grateful for them now.

salmon swim upstream

so, i should have realized it was a dead end conversation the moment it started. i probably should have tried to change the course it was running. but i'm not inclined to force my friends to say only what i want to hear or in ways i want to hear it. because i simply don't like that done to me. amen.

anyway, i sat there, getting lectured and pissed off. it carried me through most of the day, that frustration, but then i realized, there is nothing can be done. why argue. why be angry.

i don't know. i'm tired, that's all i can say.

ten hour day at work, fitting in time with the kiddo in the gaps, and friends crunched in anywhere they'll fit on top of that. i was not made for this much social behavior. it's just not me. i can't keep up.

i don't remember when i was last alone, and when i came home from residency (aside from my dark muse, all i wanted was to be alone). i got the alone that day. but that was the end of it. and i'm tired. i don't remember what i'm supposed to be doing or why. and what does it matter, really.

i was lectured about my parenting, by one i trust not to lecture. and if you know anything about people parenting, you don't say shit. amen. but i've always listened to friends because my friends are not your run of the mill hey how you doin' types. my friendships are deep. strong bonds.

it all sounds like a bunch of bullshit to me now. and i'm fried. too fried to make heads or tails of what is going through my mind.

all i can say is, i'm tired. and there is no remedy for what's ailing me at the moment.