Coloring Outside The Lines

I live in a black and white world. I should clarify that. I INSIST on living in a black and white world. When life has the audacity to throw shades of gray at me, I simply get out my trusty set of crayolas and color the damn thing. Well shit bricks and throw rocks at airplanes, my black and white crayons are worn down to the nub and the local craft store seems to be out of these very colors. What the hell???

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 little fucker darling son is back home, apology in hand. Black and white, check. What's not so black and white? He got his license last week and it has me spinning. Let me explain (I know...you're rolling your eyes at me...I can FEEL it, stop it). I've never been a helicopter parent. I firmly believe kids need to experience bumps and bruises to enable them to deal with this wonder we call life. I've never worried about my kids being stolen out of the public park, I've had my daughter split her head open and I didn't blink an eye. My son fell off my mother's second floor deck when he was two years old (I was 8 months pregnant at the time) and I managed to get him to a hospital, sit through hours of xrays and CAT scans, all without going into labour and losing my fucking mind. So I'm able to keep my shit together right, strength in the face of adversity? Right?

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.

Those are the facts. There is so much more than just the facts though. There's 8 years of history, there's the relationship he's developed with my children. There's guilt. Mostly, there's unhappiness which I just try to ignore. The goddamn white crayon won't color this one.

I need to decide within the next 5 days whether or not I'm willing to dish out $3,800 (plus spending money) to send Jimmy to Europe on a school trip next year. Twelve days in Paris, Rome and the Riviera studying art and history. Can you imagine? I cannot convey to you just how much I want to give him this opportunity, to open his world like this. To give him such an incredible experience that I myself never had as a child. Isn't that what all parents want, to give their children opportunities to fly like the wind? $3,800 will require the selling of body parts. Five days to decide what organ I'm willing to live without. No, boyfriend won't buy my kidney, I've asked.

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.

There.

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?