Oy! Motherhood.

did i mention?

during all the nuttiness at the school my book won an IACP award, which is a big effing deal, peeps. a seriously big deal. not as big as a james beard award, but second to that. like a golden globe to an oscar.

so that was good. and now we're trying to sell the next book and i gotta tell you, i could certainly use an infusion of cash around here.

and i'm hoping to get a real job--you know, the kind where you get a check every couple of weeks. but i have to convince someone to create the job first. that might be a bit of a challenge.

the kids are delightful in an insane sort of way. the boy is doing karate now. twice a week for $100/mo. so far he loves it, but it's pretty hilarious to watch his legs and arms trying to figure out how to go in all the right directions. he's been very sensitive to all the goings on about the school, even developed insomnia for a while. i'm not sure how to understand what he feels because i know he feels everything about this much more deeply than i do. psycho was in his life for four of his six years and now all she wants to do is hurt his mom. and he has to go to a new school. public school. which i'm sure is a wonderful school, but it's huge and different from everything he's been involved with since he was 2.9 years old. i fear his monsters are even bigger than mine. and he doesn't talk much about it because he's his father's son.

the girl. i can't decide whether she's a genius or a just a goofball. she's amazingly advanced in some things (like talking and repeating things she's heard--mother of the year award to me for having a kid who says, "come on, dumbass!"* to her brother), and in others, like counting, for example, she's quite dense. "one, two, three, NINE, TEN!" and potty training? not even on the freaking radar. "K no potty mommy." not even on the flipping dora seat. or for stickers. or for two stickers. not even for a lollipop. i keep trying to figure out if it's me, if i'm just not engaged enough, or if she's just that damned stubborn. i'm going with the latter since she appears to take after me that way.

psycho pissed me off to no end today. put my stuff out on the porch on a rainy day just to be a bitch. J had to make several trips over there to get it all home.

i think i must be quite stupid. wide-eyed and dumbfounded every time people do nasty things just for the sake of being nasty. the world cracks open a little more every time. mostly i'm just incredibly offended. and frightened. because people as spiteful as she is are just plain scary.

the good news?

i no longer have to live in her miserable little world.

oh, and tomorrow i turn 39.

*for the record, i do not say "come on dumbass" to my kids, only to the dog. who totally deserves it.

i vacillate

between acceptance and rage. between pity and hatred. between self-loathing and grace. a less than casual observer might see my ambivalence.

picking up the pieces has been difficult. i expect it will become more difficult as time passes. and then less.

even the garbage cans that are put out on the curb every wednesday were donated by my parents. even the garbage cans.

it took me an hour to scrape the bumper sticker off my car with my thumb nail.

i have lots of guilt. for not saving it in its whole form. for letting my family and friends down. for stealing a year of my babies' childhood to do something that was wildly successful but which also failed.

i didn't have an exit strategy.

neither does the bush administration.

i don't allow myself excuses. instead, i beat myself about the head because i should have known better. i should have protected us all better. my father's habit for plodding detail never rubbed off on me. maybe rubbing off would have been too subtle for someone like me. i get it now.

in the past two weeks i've read eat, pray, love; the history of love; and harry potter 6 and 7. i've also painted two end tables and an armoire and painstakingly cleaned the junk out of my closet and the boy's room. i'm throwing things away like crazy. what's the point of keeping all of this? it's crowding me out of my own house.

i don't like to go out shopping alone anymore. 

i am not working. not because i don't want to, but because i haven't sold the next book yet--or rather, my agent hasn't. also, i haven't found anything i want to do yet. i've got an idea. lots of them, but a particularly exciting one about a job that may or may not exist.

i'll keep you posted.