What the hell seems to be my motto these days. It's no one thing in particular but a culmination of life happenings that has me going, "Okay slow the fuck down because Dual Mom is having trouble keeping up".
The 18 year old
The fact that my son has his license has me wanting to down gallons of tequila or 150 proof vodka whenever I think of him driving. He's 18, it's time that he had his license right? WRONG people, what the hell does he need his license for when he has two perfectly good parents with tons of driving experience to drive his ass around? I have a completely irrational fear of my children driving. I have clear, vivid scenarios playing out in my head of receiving a call from the RCMP saying that my son has been in a car accident. Complete scenarios people- where the whole dialogue plays out in my head complete with crystal clear images. The severity of the accident varies by the day. I seriously feel like I'm going to lose my mind.
Until last night, I've been able to hold my shit together because even though he has his license, he has no car. His father and I have told him he needs to pay the insurance fees to be put on as a second driver on either of our vehicles. Last night he came home and said to me, "I got a truck". I spun around so fast I swear I heard my neck crack - "What the hell do you mean you got a truck, where the hell did you get a truck, what the hell are you talking about, oh sweet jesus tell me it's not true". Apparently Gramps (Monty's paternal great-grandfather) has GIVEN him his truck. Gramps has Alzheimers and it has reached the stage where he's no longer able to drive. Well fuck Alzheimers all to hell.
Of course I can't tell him he can't have the goddamn truck. What the hell kind of mother would do that? As I stood there looking at the grin which was totally encompassing Monty's face, tears started pouring down my own face and I said to him, "Please buddy, please please be so careful when you're driving. I couldn't handle it if something happened to you". Do you know what the little fucker did? He laughed at me, told me I was being foolish. The worst part is....I know I'm being foolish. I know this level of fear is completely irrational. The goddamn black crayon won't color this level of gray.
The relationship with boyfriend. How can I give you the facts in a succinct, short manner?
- We've been together for 8 years
- He's sick, has been on dialysis for 2 1/2 years, waiting for a kidney transplant
- I don't love him. No that's not true, I do love him. I'm not in love with him. I'm not happy. I'm miserable with him actually. I don't use the word miserable often. I'm not one prone to misery.
- He's not happy, but I've realized over the last year he's not a "happy" person and he's ok with that. This is a huge issue with me.
- He loves me. I'm his life. He lives and breathes for me.
- I'm scared if I end our relationship, it will take away his will to live.
When I was away I had the chance to visit with oldest sister for an afternoon. She been diagnosed with MS. That would make both sisters diagnosed with MS in the last five years. Fuck me. She's not dealing very well with it. She has no family around to help her. I feel utterly useless. Let's not talk about my odds on this one. The experts seem to be split on whether this thing is genetic. Russian roulette anyone? I've tried coloring that one with both the black and white crayon to no avail.
Those are the big things that have been playing on my mind and preventing me from writing and reading. I just feel as though I have nothing to give back to you so I haven't written because we all know this blogging gig is a game of give and take. The worst of it is, I miss you guys. I miss the give and take.
Anyone have crayons they can lend me?