Airing Laundry- Clean and Dirty

It is hard to begin when it has been so long- I've been thinking about it for weeks, but overwhelmed as to where to start. My conclusion is to go back to where I was when I stopped, and why I stopped in the first place.
Once upon a time, not so long ago...

It was Spring. The sun was shining and the poppies we[re blooming... All of my friends had stopped using their electric clothes dryer and switched to the glorious sun, except for me. I was feeling guilty, but there was this subtle battle between Mystery Man and I about who should go out and get clothesline at the hardware store to hang outside. He was pestering me to get it done, while relaxing with a book or snacking on chips and salsa, and I kept thinking, "Why me? I'm racing around trying to do everything necessary to run a household, short of providing money. I am BUSY! Why tell me to do it? Just go do it yourself if you are thinking about it three times a day!" I ended up giving in without much fight, and going to get and hang it in the end, which is what I usually do, because someone has to, and arguing and being stubborn tires me out.
The clothesline story is a less violent microcosm of my relationship, my life as his partner, and as the mother of his child. I tried in this blog at the start to keep things neutral, to protect his privacy and say kind things, just in case anyone who knows him might be reading. This is a good idea because I care, but it is also a bad idea, because when things get crazy, then I can't blog. I run into a total block. Who can write with sincerity about the flowers, what they made for dinner, or anything of interest or consequence, when their insides are screaming like demons and no one will dare answer the cries.

Wow, that was so goth of me to write. I could be writing for Bauhaus or something- maybe it's because I have been listening to them a lot again lately.

Anyway, things weren't going well, I felt unsupported, and well, gosh, there are lots of things that I still can't bring myself to say here. So I will just say that I spent a while trying to get out of it. I called friends and family in desperation, looking for an escape for a dependent Mama with a baby, who doesn't want to leave her to earn a living. I got offers for temporary shelter and LOTS of advice (and yelling and criticism from my Dad who gets so stressed and worried that he can't stay calm- I had to stop talking to him about it, since there was nothing constructive that he could do). I was all set up to get rescued by my dear friend in Oregon, and get taken to stay with my sister. I worked things out with my ex-husband to share the boys, a few months here, then a few months there. Then things got crazier.

I got a call from the police that he (the ex) was in jail for a drunken "disturbance" with his girlfriend. I had to go pick up the boys. The drunk thing has been a bit of a problem in the past, so I freaked and decided that I didn't trust him much. I went to court and got a temporary protective order for the kids, and a follow-up court date. The final determination was that I need to stick around and be the watcher- make sure he stays sober and safe with the kids, and report him if not, but he can still have them every other week.

New plan? Clearly no escape to Oregon for the sake of son number 1 and 2, so I cooked up a plan to re-start my pre-school and take care of my damn self (being reliant on anyone but me doesn't seem to work for me), so I could live without Mystery Man. I got busy working at advertising and setting up a more serious and professional school really quickly. He agreed to move out August 1.

Then Mystery Man got really nice all of a sudden. We had weeks and weeks of sweetness and I thought maybe the close call finally did it. Things were going to be okay. So, reversal of the break up plan and much relief- I could now just start the school at my leisure, channeling the initial dollars from it into play furniture, toys, supplies, etc. What a luxury! I proceeded with this, thinking I would need to be independent eventually and I didn't want to keep crying wolf about having a school and risk a flaky rep.

Things aren't very sweet anymore. Sometimes only a sour after taste. Sometimes explosive. Sometimes stinging or bitter. I hate roller coasters.


long silence-

-subject change
(because I feel the need to lighten up now)
oh- I got a new bunny a few months ago. She is the gentlest, nicest, hugest French Lop. Her name is Blackberry. She is recovering from being mal-treated for 3 or 4 years by her previous owner. She was very skinny and sick. She loves to run around in my backyard and eat out of my garden. This is a picture of her first few days here. She now has a big, two story cage built by me. I love her, and so does baby. She calls her Dackdey. My mother used to say:
There was a little girl and she had a little curl,
right in the middle of her forehead.
When she was good,she was very, very good,
and when she was bad she was awful.

My little girl's curl was on the nape of her neck a few months ago when I took this. Now that her hair is longer, they are springing out all over. The poem applies. She just started walking. It is so cute. She is determined to go where she pleases, and if I try to stop her she will SCREAMMM!