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Hey. Remember that resolution post from last year? Yeah, neither do I. Oops. I didn't run that marathon, which I will blame on hip issues. I didn't correspond with anyone very well, and I certainly didn't step up the blogging. THIS is exactly why I think making resolutions is stupid. Because you fail at them and then you feel shitty. So no resolutions for 2012. I KNEW I should stick to not making any, but now i have proof that they're a bad idea for me.
But wait, you say. What about the one you didn't mention? The gray hair one? Aha! The lazy option. The resolution that required me to do absolutely nothing except let my hair grow and fight the urge to change it. Yes, that one I stuck to. Because it was inordinately simple. Here are some photos of the carnage.
Look at all that gray hair. I swear it's at least one-third gray at this point, because every time I wear anything black and notice hair that's shed onto my shirt, about one-third of the time, that hair is long and thick and wonky and gray. The good thing is that my hair's curly, so it almost looks like highlights. That hair is such a different texture, it's sort of incredible, actually. It's really thick and sticks out in all directions. My father's hair is all silver and it's like a brillo pad sitting on top of his head. I think this is what genetics has in store for me: the human brillo pad, female version. RAD, I know.
It started out mostly at the temples, but it's spreading like wildfire, and now it's pretty much all over. But you know what? I almost kind of like it. I mean, I'm not young any more. not really. I look back at all those facebook photos posted of me from when I was in my early 20s and realize that I'm really not that girl any more at all. not even close. she was really pretty and thin and nice and naive and all of those things that 20-somethings should probably be. I'm a lot less of all of that. weighted down by literal extra pounds and the weight of experience. The laugh lines, frown lines, and all the lines in between. The hair is just an extra step in making me look like a WOMAN.
Some days, I embrace it. I love Alice's post about feeling sort of intimidating and enjoying it. She was, of course, the person who inspired me to let the gray go. I have days when I want to cry about how much I've changed, and I wonder if it's for the better or for the worse.
The day I took this one, I guess I was feeling better. You can see the streaks really starting from a distance, and I guess I felt fairly ok about it.
Are you going gray? Do you color your hair? Why or why not? Also, do you spell it gray or grey? I must know.
word to the wise:
do not leave your prescription drugs within reach of toddlers, as you will never see them again. my antidepressants are gone. i'm not sure if this is just one of the universe's sick jokes or if eliot's trying to tell me something. but he CAN'T tell me ANYTHING. and now he can't tell me where the pills are.
this is not a fun game.
any guesses?
hey. how are things? i'm currently in a hotel room all by myself with quietness and no legos and no squished blueberries to clean up and no asses to wipe and no cat vomit to mop and, well, you get the picture. it's kind of blissful, actually. oh, i'm not totally heartless. i miss my boys a lot. but don't think for a SECOND that i'm not enjoying the hell out of this little work vacation.
where to start? i think i'll ease back in with a shortish post. you know that asperger's kids aren't supposed to have much of a sense of humor? mine is one of the exceptions. i mean, he's no comedy genius, but he makes me laugh. he is gaining some confidence, and really flourishing at his new school. more on that later, but i think that's one thing that is helping with his humor.
today's song title brings to mind an exchange we had in the car the other day.
me: what were you looking at on the lego website earlier?
em: ninjago stuff. they have some cool new things on there. editor's note: NINAJAGO. holy shit.
me: like what?
em: oh, like these snake temples, and a helicopter, and a card holder. editor's note: i am paraphrasing. i have no idea what the hell any of this stuff is.
me: a card holder? you mean, like a lego holder for the ninjago cards?
em: yeah. pretty cool.
me: dude. a holder made of legos for the cards? why would you need that? can't you just hold the cards in your hands?
em: yeah, i guess you can. probably they make them for zombies with no arms, then.
words of wisdom, folks. words of wisdom.
oh, y’all. i think almost every day about writing here, and then i have all this other crap come up, and, well, here we are. it’s hard to work all week and deal with mundane shit at home like laundry and dishes and dinner and cleaning and DAMN, i’m tired. i mean, who of us isn’t tired? jebus, it’s insane. and, like all of you, i heard all that crap about how tired we’d be when we became parents, but who REALLY listens to people who say that? yeah, not us. or not me, at least. i’m pretty sure dave listened, because he always does.
so…i need to write about eliot. because he’s freaking awesome. unfortunately, true to the whole second child deal, i’m going to put that post on the backburner and talk about me. well, this IS a blog, and isn’t the whole point to make people listen to me drone on and on about MYSELF? probably not. too bad, suckas. you’re stuck reading this now.
where to begin? the last few months have been hard. wait, let me restate. 2011 has been a big pile of suck, and i would like to kick it in the crotch. due to all the shit with ems and school and asperger’s and autism spectrum and weirdness, i spent a great deal of 2011 year-to-date crying. i mean, a lot of crying here. trust me, i know that everyone has their shit to deal with, and i’m just venting at you guys. i guess i just want to explain to the few of you who read this why i have been absent lately. absent from blogging, from facebook, from email, from phone calls, from get-togethers, from shindigs, and any other form of social interaction i can think of. i’ve been a total incommunicado asshole. why would i call anyone if all i’m going to do is cry at them? why would i post shit on facebook when all i’m thinking about is how fucking sad i am?
plus, em just keeps getting weirder. and this means that his behaviors can get more difficult/annoying/infuriating. this boy is one of the brightest lights in my life, but sometimes, i just feel like i have no idea what the universe was thinking when it decided i should be his mother. i don't have a goddamn idea what i'm doing most of the time. i feel so stupid and small in the face of his challenges which, by extension, are my challenges, too. there are days when i have no idea what he needs or how to give it to him. on those days, he probably feels the same way. i have just put him to bed and cried. or cried all the way to work.
and then, one day, it hit me. like the proverbial ton of bricks, it hit me. NORMAL PEOPLE DO NOT CRY THIS MUCH. and normal people don’t feel so freaking sad all the time. and gee, when was the last time i felt like myself? i honestly couldn’t remember.
so, with sweaty palms, i dialed a shrink. i don’t know what took me so long, considering that this is my brother’s chosen profession. i guess i didn't want to admit to anyone that i couldn't handle things. and that i wasn't strong and fine and super. but i wasn't. i spent an hour or so with her, and she declared that i was depressed, and had been for some time. and you know what? she was right. i realized it, and i hate to admit it. my family didn't know. my closest friends didn't know. hey, i'm an actor. i acted ok.
so i'm on drugs now. i fucking hate it. i didn't want to be on drugs. i didn't want to admit that i was weak. but i think that by telling you guys, it helps me own it. perhaps i'm stronger now that i've admitted it. whatever. all i know is that i'm starting to feel like myself again. i'm less tired all the time and more engaged. or something. the second i filled that prescription, it was as if i got better all of a sudden. as if, just by knowing that i'd feel better, i started to feel better. does that make sense?
there's no shame in this - none at all. i did this for me, yes. but i did it for dave. and i did it for these boys. and for my friends. and my family. i did it for everyone.
i'm terrified to post this. my palms are sweaty now. i pressed post and put a future time on it to give me time to take it down. will i? fuck. i don't know.
It started out mostly at the temples, but it's spreading like wildfire, and now it's pretty much all over. But you know what? I almost kind of like it. I mean, I'm not young any more. not really. I look back at all those facebook photos posted of me from when I was in my early 20s and realize that I'm really not that girl any more at all. not even close. she was really pretty and thin and nice and naive and all of those things that 20-somethings should probably be. I'm a lot less of all of that. weighted down by literal extra pounds and the weight of experience. The laugh lines, frown lines, and all the lines in between. The hair is just an extra step in making me look like a WOMAN. 
Some days, I embrace it. I love Alice's post about feeling sort of intimidating and enjoying it. She was, of course, the person who inspired me to let the gray go. I have days when I want to cry about how much I've changed, and I wonder if it's for the better or for the worse. 
The day I took this one, I guess I was feeling better. You can see the streaks really starting from a distance, and I guess I felt fairly ok about it. 
