Thursday, April 25, 2013

Weariness and Wariness

I'm so freakin' tired.  But I feel time running away with me, whether I'm ready for it or not.  So, I let the days drag me along for now.

So much is happening lately.  Getting Daughter ready for graduation.  She's under a lot of pressure, in her final weeks of school.  I have to admit that I'll be oh so relieved to not have a child in public school anymore.  The shenanigans are so unbelievable.  Our district will be going to a practically year-round schedule next school year, which is wreaking havoc with working parents.  When the debate started, I was happy to sit back and realize that it wasn't my fight.  We've done our time.  We're done.

Jacob, though, still has to battle it.  His child is in grade school, but he's working it out.  We've planned a vacation for us all.  A little mini-vacation to Mesa Verde, which will be a wondrous sight for all of us.  I dream of other vacations, things I've seen that I'd love to share with him and his youngest.  Great fun, if we can scrape together the money for such things.

What gets under my skin a little is that each time I mention a vacation idea that I'd like to share with them, he tells me he'd rather go to San Francisco.  Not that I object to San Francisco.  Not at all.  I just don't like having my ideas dismiss, or swept under his ideas.

I see a little microcosm of this each night, when the inevitable question arises: "What are we watching tonight?"  I've stopped making suggestions.  One night, I realized that whatever I suggested was met with a disdainful expression.  As though to say, "I won't like that."

Not even an effort to know about it at all or to try it on the merits of the fact that it's something I recommend.  My ideas go to the bottom of the pile, and it's starting to make me feel bad.

In movies, I generally don't enjoy the horror genre. Or monsters.  Do you know how many of these I've tried because Jacob likes them so much?  Usually, I find something in it to like.  Sometimes not.  The only series that I've had to say I just can't do was the Hellraiser series.  The first one was such an over-the-top meatfest that I just couldn't do it anymore.  And Caprica.  We watched that the other day, and it's just too depressing.  Otherwise, I've gotten on the ride many times.

But I don't get a lot of reciprocity.  My recommendations don't seem to hold any merit.  I've even asked him before buying a DVD, to make sure I'm not watching it alone again.  I really hate watching things alone.  It's no fun when I don't have someone to share it.

Occasionally, the thought will occur to me that he says he wants a more dom/sub lifestyle.  If that's the case, then who do you think you're sneering at, sub?  I wonder what he REALLY wants.

That, combined with his tendency to differ or argue with me about most of what I say, often makes me wonder in what esteem does he actually hold me?  Does he really look down on what I think, say, like, etc.?

This is a conversation we need to have, but the thought makes me even more tired than I already am.  I don't want to argue.  I don't like to argue.  But I also won't be dismissed.

I've spent a lot of time thinking about this lately.  I know he's committed to me, to our life.  I love him dearly.  I need to know that what I think, say, and feel has worth to him.  Need.

Now, to leave you with a chuckle.  I keep telling my dog that she doesn't have to guard the dog food bowls.  "The cat does not want your food," I say.  "Relax."

I was wrong.

Saturday, April 13, 2013


They are coming too fast for this mama to handle well.  Daughter and I spent a few days at her college campus.  I feel a little better now, having seen the place and the people with whom she'll spend most of the next four years.  She'll become an adult among these folks.  Still, am I ready for my baby girl to be out in the Big World?  Not really.  I don't have a choice, though.  This is how life happens.

Along our travels, we stopped at a bookstore.  Daughter was off seeing what she wanted to see, and I found a shelf of lovely statues.  My eyes came to rest of one of a mother cradling her little baby to her.  The waterworks started all by themselves.  I was trying to dab it away when Daughter found me.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

I gestured to the shelf.  I really hadn't wanted her to see me like that.

"Oh, I know," she said, and gave me her sympathy look.  I love her so.  That week was spectacular.  It meant so very much to both of us.

Tonight was prom night.  Senior Prom.  Another milestone.  I remember mine, and it just doesn't feel like it was as long ago as it was.  Yes, I'm waxing nostalgic lately.  I'm a complete sap, but this is not news to you, dear Diary.  It seems appropriate, then, that Daughter chose an entirely vintage look for her prom dress (hair, makeup, accessories, etc.).  Very 1940s.  I helped with her hair today, then she went to her friend's house to finish getting ready.  They went as a group, which was nice.  Dinner, the dance, then to another friend's house for movies.

Am I worried about what else might go on?  Not a chance.  These are the kids who spent their "skip day" playing board games.

As we were taking pictures of them tonight, Jacob nudged me.  "Are you doing okay?"  I've been sick, but that's not what he meant.  He knows that my heart aches, though I try to keep it to myself.

Later, at home, he's slicing our single frozen pizza for dinner.  His youngest is at her mother's this week.  He put the knife down.  "This is weird."

"What's that?"

"Here pretty soon, this will be how half our time is.  One pizza.  A couple of salads.  Not the big dinners we've been used to doing."

He's right.  Life is going to be very different for us.  For all of us.

Next milestone: graduation day.  She's got the countdown going already!