Hootie-Hoo stayed home with me yesterday. What is it about children that they fall sick on the days that their mother is planning to take off? I mean really, wheres the sense of humor in that?
When I realized that my most needed day of recovery from my treacherous week was not going to happen I looked up to the Universe and had a little conversation to anybody who would listen, “I really want to know, I’m being serious now, did I do something terribly wrong in my previous life or even in this life that I am unaware of?”
I definitely have made some foolish, selfish moves that could invoke bad karma like leaving Hootie-Hoo sleeping in a car to race in and get a Chai Tea from Starbucks, which I shouldn’t have been spending my money on in the first place. But the temperature was perfect inside the car for a sleeping baby and I was feeling rebellious. When I came out of the store with my frothy, delicious cup of decadence my heart leapt into my throat as I was met by a fleet of policemen with lots of questions. It was no fun trying to convince them that I was actually an incredible mother and not abusive and that all I wanted was a little reward for living a life that was NOT ABOUT ME.
Maybe it was the time that I backed into the parked car forgetting as always about my huge bike rack. In a rush, as always, I left the scene. Never good to crash and dash, is it? But after investigating the rusted dent already there, I was certain it was not me who caused it.
I never did get any answers from the powers that be and so I changed my mindset and spent the day jumping on top of Hottie-Hoo, staring into his incredibly luminous eyes and dark lashes?and making him giggle. When we weren’t rolling around together I resumed? to? the multitude of phone calls I had to make to desperately try to avoid plunging further into debt.
When I received the email that I was invited to go away for a weekend of indulgence with my good friends I bent over and slammed my head against my desk a few times arising with tears of frustration for the lack of money. After all, if I did get a job, all the money would have to go to daycare where somebody I didn’t know would be raising my precious cherub.
I wrote an email that made me feel slightly better and pressed send:
Every month bankruptsy hovers over us and? I contemplate selling a child to pay our mortgage. It gets more and more difficult to remain positive and I have nothing left to fall back on.
Just as I swore that I would never be one of those moms who talked about bowel movements, I also swore that I would never let money come in between Baddy and my relationship. But life is not black and white and Baddy and I are struggling to hang on to each other and everything that we are responsible for. It was far easier to control conversations about babies than it is to control our spiraling finances.
On the bad days I think about how the best way to save money would be to take Hootie-Hoo out of?those few days of pre-school.?If that happens I cannot possibly write with him at my heels. If I lose my freedom to write than I will most likely lose my sanity and if I lose my sanity than I will lose my husband and if I lose my husband than I will lose my babies who will blame me for everything and if I lose my children than you may as well shove me into a box with a huge weight on it and throw it overboard.
Sometimes I cannot believe how numb I have become to all the negativity that I am confronted with month to month and sometimes I spend my time driving with blurred vision as the tears role down my face. I know that we are not alone in our struggle, everywhere I turn I witness other families struggling and I cry for them as well.
Other times I look at the way the light hits the Autumnal wild grass turning it a beautiful and earthy shade of gold and I marvel at the low lying clouds hugging the mountains in their soft embrace and I get filled with an intense happiness. I still have my husband, my children, my mother, my sisters, my friends and all of our health. I live in a beautiful place, I can rely upon nature to be my Prozac and I have a good sense of humor that I can call upon at any moment to help me through the tough times.
So pfffft, just ignore me, I’m fine actually. It’s just that my friends have told me that I should write a little more about the adversity in my life and not sound so goddamn happy all the time. So there it is. Do with it what you may!