NaWaUpMo

While the very thought of National Blog Post Month makes me feel queasy, I am embarking on an attempt to wake up each morning in November at 7 a.m. Then I'll work my way up to 6. So. Top o' the mornin' to ye. All 31 of 'em. Or 30? I guess 30. Whatever.

 And here is the Blog of Bu, a.k.a. Through the Lens, all resplendent with Molly Costumey Goodness.

five years ago today-ish

Very blown out photo Mia (left) posted on her MySpace page.
I (right) am
1. In a decidedly unflattering top, and
2. Having of the very long pretty hair.
Dude smooshed between us is my tattoo artist, Gordon. Groovy, yes?

Yeh, Mia totally out-gothed me:) You'll have that. And now, for real, goodnight.

sketchcast #1

Thank you, Eden. It's like crack for doodlers. I can't get it to embed, but here's the link: http://sketchcast.com/view/Mmeiyz1 There's actual voice!

quickie shout-outs & so forth

This one's for Betsy: Yoda Quote of the Day gadget for iGoogle.

This is how incredibly great Marianne is: a box full of warm, soft goodies for the Birdy and me. Just for an itty doodle. I'm seriously overwhelmed:) I'm so so so in love with Busha and her daughter Brooke I just want to run away to Cali and snuggle them. Brooke's extra snuggable these days, what with the eensy baby girl all warm and comfy in her belly!

 In the world of me? There are killer sniffles hagning on. There is a new Pirates DVD (Dead Man's Chest. I had to! Tia Dalma was calling me.) There is a ladybug costume and black leggings and turtleneck waiting for the bittle boo. There will be a little firepit and hot cocoa and Molly's first trick-or-treat and life is good.

Happy Halloween Eve. Did you know La Dia de los Muertos is actually November 2? So the Halloween Fest really is Saturday (Party Night) thru Friday! Nearly a whole week. So yeah, definitely better than Christmas. And I hate winter. Still. Marianne likes it enough for both of us I think. It bites. This lust for hot sun and the recent voodoo fixation have driven me to the conclusion that I was a (super sexy) Haitian chick in a former life.

OK: Paperwork calls. Much data to be entered.

the photos

At long last, I give you the photos:

The groovy staff thingy was actually purloined from the music room, serendipitously. It was an excellent accessory.

So we watched Dawn of the Dead and drank some beer and came home by 10. Woo.

Edit: Not sure why comments aren't working. Maybe is fixed?

ladies and gentlemen, we have a new word

She says "chocolate"! Well, "gock-lit." This is yummy chocolate whipped yogurt, which has so much fat and protein, I've decided to overlook the HFCS:) When we finish a cup, I look like this too, because she feeds me the last third or so. This might be my favorite word yet.

some sunday things

1. The party was teh lame:(

2. Our costumes rocked hard, tho'. Bu has the photocard so I'll post evidence of our hotness later.

3. Mild hangover + medium cold, not as bad as I'd thought. Stayed in bed all a.m. with Buffy Season 6, which cures anything. Baby arriving soon- squee! I miss her.

4. The dog issue: our inherited dog, Bailey, is pooping and peeing in the house like crazy, and is really testing our patience. One of us has less of that- the one who is not a mother- and he has evicted her. We're scrambling to find a home. I really think if she had a fenced play area and lots more time outdoors than we can do, she'd be peachy. There is guilt, but I'd rather her have a new happy home than keep her here. Anyone want a sweet but slightly high needs 4 year old black lab/chow mix?

5. So I'm off to buy some junk to clean the carpet.  Again.

in which you help daisy make decisions

Click Here! Take the First Evar (!) DaisyBones Survey! First responder wins a Oh who the hell am I kidding? I still have freakin' doodles to send. Look: I got nothin'. Just hook me up with info K? It'll be fun. 

Thx.

And now me and my Sudafed and my crappy inhaler (story to follow...) are curling up in bed with my phlegm, to rest up for The Partay. The gypsies have the child; they paid me in shiny trinkets and some pretty pieces of paper. I feel good about it; I think she'll be happy with them. 

costume sneak peak

Here we have (top left) my Sculpey bones & teeth, (the one with me) the stuff after painting and stringing, (lower left, really blown out) the necklace finished with cool African fertility pendant, and the T-shirt painting. .:: Hail Erzulie::.

The wig is phat, but my pictures not so much, so you'll have  to wait until tomorrow to see that killer coolness.

Squee!

voodoo, dreads, and plastic green skeletons

Hi. How ya doin'?

Click through for TNBC-inspired layout lurv. Much love to the creators of these Tim Burton fonts & dings. 

Still giddy. Work desk adorned with dollar store skeletons in neon green & purple. The cheapest old ratty nylon black wig in the western hemisphere is mid-transformation. I wanted this, but funds being rather scarce, I'm "repurposing" the old trashy thingy. It's becoming something vaguely like dreadlocks on one side with beaded stubby ponytail in back, and there's a big obvious seam that I'm gonna cover with a tikka-esque creation of some sort. Bu is teasing me about my Tia Dalma fixation, but I tell him any self-respecting Voudon* priestess would have a Carribean accent and wicked awesome dreads. But OMGoddess Tia Dalma is so totally hawt yum wow. Teeth notwithstanding.

*Interestingly, for a Wiccan, I'm alternately fascinated and frightened by "Voodoo" ritual. Actually the fright kind of compells the fascination. And, being the overthinker and worrier I am, I have plans to light a candle or something as a quick show of respect for the loa. Don't want to project any cultural disrespect. And also: I'm very attracted to Erzulie's symbols & stuff. And I wanna go to New Orleans via Lexieland. OK. That is all.

geeking out on the halloweeny goodness

I'm stoked:) We have a spider-themed playgroup at the clinic tomorrow. Witchy is from clip art I'm playing with for that. Heading to dollar store after work to gather cheap accessories for a Voodoo Priestess costume. Bu is going as my zombie. That's for the legendary annual party at our friends' place and whatever other trouble I can find with my long lost Wiccan BFF Rhaina. Making plans to head out of town on Samhain proper to a Reclaiming group's biggish circle. Blissfully, trick-or-treat is Tuesday night, so my wee ladybug can traipse about with mama bug. Fun fun. I even squeezed in time this weekend for a DIY black manipedi! *Gothy sigh*)

timekilling: 'bones style

My official DaisyBones smiley, link via Eden. So Anyway... (heh)

back to work. Maybe more coffee. There is a LOT of toddler snot happenning chez moi. Which means there is precious little sleep. Saturday night I drove all the way to a different county trying desperately to knock out my pitiful Little Bird. Then last night, we just sat and stared at eachother, Bu and I, while she wailed Banshee-like for a good thirty minutes. She wouldn't let me touch her or console her, she just needed, I guess, to scream.

love is...

In-laws?

Oh Yes: Grandies who take the baby off my hands because she's possessed again because she wouldn't nap for Bu today and I have a brochure to do and then the baby falls asleep really early so I know she'll wake up and be up late and they say they'll keep her overnight even though it's a workday and Papaw's Pa stuck a garden implement in his leg and Papaw had to take him to the Er and he is OK so yeh the grandies have the baby? That rocks.

Sometimes only a ridiculous run-on sentence can express the frantic insanity of my brain.

Also? What else rocks? When Bu prescribes a hot bath with a Tori serenade. This rocks lots because:

1. It means Bu noticed I am on the Tori kick.
2. It means Bu has to load up his iPod with my girly stuff and is doing so happily.
3. It means Bu lurvs me so much he wants me to chill.

Edit: It also means I relaxed so much I completely forgot to post this before bed:) Good morning internet.. *sigh*

the surreal impending-monday awareness of my toddler

How does she know? Why does she always pick Sunday nights for Super Extreme Freakouts? Do all babies of working moms have this innate sense of mommy's need for clarity on Re-Entry to Workforce Day?

We were awake, in tears (yep, both of us) from 10 p.m. until 1:30 a.m. I still have no idea what the hell was wrong with her but my tears were from the crazed, terrified confusion, very brand-new-mama-esque, of not knowing what to do to help my tiny screaming creature who clearly needed something but couldn't tell me what. (Except to sign more! more! but she signs that roughly 1,234,890 times a minute.) Whatever the demon was that had her, it was exorcized spontaneously- finally- and we crashed hard.

My lifestyle sucks. Bu and I are having a meeting to discuss  time management, budget, chores, etc. I can't be exhausted anymore. Must fix this. I do think that if I clear away the hormonal hysteria* and my all-or-nothing attitude that we can arrange our world in a saner way. If we can't then I'm going to sell the baby or the husband to the gypsies. Or eBay maybe.

*I feel anti-feminist** to talk about my insanity during my cycle. I am seriously a different person, though. It sucks. I'm thinking about getting back on some hormonal birth control. I read about some herbal therapy though... but it doesn't kill two birds. The idea of another baby is all cute for 10 seconds and then I think I'd jump off a bridge. I'd make sure the gypsies found a good home for Bu & the Boue first, of course.

**Because I'm an insane overthinker and debate the intricacies and ramifications of fucking everything, including a deceptively simple blogpost about being tired and cranky during my period. Because I'm that effing crazy.

i'm not persephone?

OK, if I'd had a recent miscarriage, or ever had one, or lost a child or anything of the sort that might explain why I just had a huge sobbing cry listening to "Playboy Mommy." It's dangerous to neglect one's Tori-listening for way too long. I lost the desensitization necessary to hear someone practically cut her womb and brain and heart out and let me listen.

Just finished From the Choirgirl Hotel. Visiting with Liitle Earthquakes now, and I will probably need intense therapy afterward. Oh Goddess, why the PMS? I'm down with the bloody moon synch groove, I'm OK with the fucking acidtrip of an idea that made you think I needed two vaginas & cervixes even. But seriously, why the hell do I have to be a snotty wet psychotic exposed nerve for seven days a month? 

Somebody come lock up the henna. (I look vaguely ill with red hair but it's calling me. Damn you Tori! Actually it's a chestnut color but it has henna in it so I'm pretty sure it'd be redder than the box says.)

+++

w00t! Lexie just called! Squee! Hi Lexie:)

eternal sunshine my ass

Edit: I've been so wiped out lately that I didn't take time to respond to all the supportive comments here. Thank you all so much for that! Also, the day after I posted this, Grandma called to ask "Did I seem extra confused yesterday? I am really confused about it." I told her she'd been mixed up about me, and she said that she was sorry (it's heartbreaking that she apologized...) and she knew I was her "sweet Heidi." It was very uplifting and relieving, of course, to know that there are still ins along with the outs. The Birdy and I had a great visit with her Sunday for her 84th birthday.

I'm so full of rage at this fucking disease that is eating a hole in my Grandma's brain that I want to smash something. I want to hit and kick and scream and bite and sob.

It's beyond the fact that she confuses me with my second cousin; apparently the concept of my very existence has been eaten by the black hole. It was fucking creepy. She was calling me Laura again, and I'd correct her. She looked at me like, "Oh, OK whatever..." That's been the pattern. But then yesterday she seemed to really hear me, and she was so confused. Demanded to know why no one had explained to her who I was, that V had had a daughter. She wanted to know who was my Daddy and why I wasn't brought up by my Mommy and Daddy and was a secret all these years. I told her, "Grandma, you've forgotten, and it's OK, but I have been around. Mom and Dad and L'Bro and me were all a family together until Mom and Dad divorced. I was your first grandchild. Here, this picture? This is me."

She looked at me skeptical, said, "No, that's V." I joked that I was flattered but that was me, and "This baby picture? that's me too." "Well, you were very pretty... Still are...haha." Then she'd get it and it would click that her daughter had a daughter and I'd feel like I had her back for just a second, and then she'd ask all over again who was my mom and be shocked when I said it was V. She'd be playing with Molly and ask, "Now, is she related to me somehow?" At one point she said "Well, whatever. It's nice to meet you" and laughed and I was so mad at her I had to choke back tears.

Of course, I realized even in the moment I wasn't mad at her but at this stupid disease. On the drive home I was sulky and broody and thinking this is what we've evolved into? Creatures with a body that outlasts the mind? No thanks, I think we should just die of the elements or some natural primal death. Very positive loving thoughts, these.

It just hurts me so bad I just can't frame it in words. Seems like watching her memory of me leaving and the absence of my mom are somehow compounding each other. I think if she'd see me and mom together she'd understand. I thought of trying to gather family photos. There all scattered; mom's side of the family's never been as careful of photos as my dad's is. I don't know if it'd help though. The photos she has just confuse her.

I feel like a selfish child, but it really breaks my heart that no one else has just vanished from her brain. I'm just gone, like I was never there. That's the only severe symptom she has. Everything else is just dotty cute old lady stuff. What day is it? Flipping names but essentially knowing who's there. But I'm erased. It's impossible and also stupid to even try not to take it personally. I know rationally that it's just random nerve synapses missing connections, but how can I not feel heartbroken about it? I'm ashamed that I'm angry even though I know this is biological, this is human, this is life. I'm embarassed that I'm thinking only of myself here, that here is the end of my post and I'm just now mentioning the look in her eyes when she realized how much this must hurt me if I was her granddaughter. She looked so sad to be hurting me, so disappointed in herself.  That was the other time I had to swallow tears: she said "I'm sorry," so sadly, looking into my eyes and searching me.

happy callous disregard for the humanity of indigenous peoples day

OK, sorry, the snarkiness just possesses me sometimes. Carry on.

fumpkin pestival

Highlights from the 2007 Pumpkin Festival:

Massive doodles on Thursday, a.k.a. The Slow Day.

Many, many babies, especially newborns who made my uterus cry with wanting.

A cool-looking mom with great tattoos who used her daughter's long ponytail as a loose leash and made me laugh.

Pumpkin ice cream, pumpkin fudge- yesyesyes.

Number of Carrie Underwood covers butchered onstage: 2

Number of passable renditions of Carrie-esque renditions of "I'll Stand by You": 1

An incredible hot girl in the booth next to ours with great clothes and jewelry whose boyfriend tried to get me to sign up for a Friends of Coal mailing list and who was apparently confused to find out that there are people, in WV no less, who don't so much love Big Coal*.

My I-Grew-A-Pair Story:

I wanted a souvenir, so I wandered around and found a pair of framed simple needlepoint doodly things. One said "crow" and one "willow" with respective imagery. $4.99 each. Nice. I snatched them up and when I showed my coworker, she spotted Made in China stickers on the backs. My jaw dropped and I took my stuff back. I politely told her that I supposed I should have asked if the stuff was locally made, but being that I was at an arts and crafts festival, I'd assumed so. She gave me my cash, saying she normally wouldn't but... Never said "but what" but I guess she meant "But I'd like you to shut up and go away now you crazy hippy."

I bought a cute quilted pillow with a crow and "harvest" emboidered on it. The artist sold it to me herself:)

*Coal mining is pretty much a religion here, despite the fact that actual economic history shows we've been assfucked by the industry, doing all the working and dying from black lung and dangerous conditions while out of state or country businesses turn profits. Plus there is the pesky little problem of fossil fuels killing the planet. Endrant.

dear hathor,

Bite me. Just kidding, but that was so totally my first response when I saw her most recent comic. Then I read on and saw her commiseration on toddler cosleeping:

...when your child is 3 years old and still sleeping beside you, you will be getting 4 hours LESS sleep than parents who weaned early. You will be like a rotisserie, first one side then another, all night long, in progressively shorter intervals until the crack of dawn when you will leap out of bed and say “okay! Let’s start our day!” and then make a LOT of something with heaps of caffeine. Which is no problem because your 3 year old won’t really be interested in nursing at all, all day. Saving up for night time, perhaps?

*Sigh* Should I be proud that the Boue nurses on a three-year-old level? Snerk. I have had so many offers of phone & email support from fabulous moms, I should hold a Molly Sleeping Summit to determine my course of action:) For now the plan is surrender, because as she often does, she's giving me a break right after I snap. Maybe she hears the words "night weaning" and figures she better shape up...

And I'm off to bed with my princess of purple pajamas and pouty preciousness. Happy sleepies, blogopeeps.

mindfullness

Edit: lol.. you guys probably think I was on crack titling this post "mindfullness." I actually started a post about a new meditation/anxiety management idea, but I just decided to write about my day of arrrrgh! instead. Then, stuck in the arrrrgh!, I forgot to change the title. Thanks for the suggestions so much; we'll make it through this. We slept better last night. Shorter nursing sessions at least.

Breakdown.

Feeling lost and overwhelmed and confused and all similar doubleplusungood emotions. I think I have to wean this baby from nighttime nursing; I'm exhausted. I'm sitting-in-the-driveway-sobbing-uncontrollably-husband-drags-me-inside-to-call-in-to-work-exhausted.

I'm going to examine this gently, and call my friend who's a LLL leader and have her hold my hand through this and see how ro approach it. It's so fraught with emotion for me I can barely discuss this without tears, but I have to figure out what to do to get more sleep because I am Fucking Losing My Shit.

It seems like a no-brainer to everyone who is not me. If you are me, it is a big damn deal: a huge clash between my instincts (Mamaself: wait her out; she needs the nighttime bonding and so do I. Employee/Business Owner/Wifeself: holyshit get the succubus off my boobz and sleep you crazy bitch- you are crazed.)

Tonight my plan is to not try to get anything done after her bedtime. I'll laze around and watch House (HughLauriesquee!) and whatever and snuggle the baby. Try to talk to V about the weaning & stuff and get a boobycheerleader perspective. It's so hard. She is so not ready, so weaning will be a definite test of wills and a sobbing baby sobbing mommy mess. It might make me feel worse than the lack of sleep. Fuck.