Fleur Di Lis

It's one of those mornings where it's 52 degrees in the house because the new thermostat mysteriously turns the AC on whenever the heater kicks on and they cancel each other out, leaving us with lukewarm air that just seems like a waste of electricity to leave running.  Luckily, we have plenty of firewood and supposedly there's a guy on his way. 

And now I have a cold.  After all that madness I have an actual cold. 

I just cooked up two god damned steaks all for myself.  Ribeyes.  Medium.  There's something porky and apricotty in the crockpot. 

I refuse to let this fucker get me down. 

So I ran some dishes, looked into some freelance opportunities, directed the children's chores all after sending Willie off on his scooter for the bus stop.  It's sunny out and I intend to conquer this day. 

After breakfast. 

It's noon.

I have like 13 different things that I am trying to do at once and I need to go to the 99.  But that's normal. 

I already have fairly good habits and nothing that I feel the need to break at this point in my life.  I would like to get more work done but something always comes up.  You know, like raising kids.  There are deconstructed VCR's and alarm clocks all over my coffee tables because the neighbor had a yard sale and they had some quarters.  You want to talk about the children being our future.  Man.  Ty's explaining to me how batteries work and he used the tackle box I got him for Christmas to collect the neat little springs and doo dads he finds in his machines. 

It's an independent project but there's a lot of "mom look at this" and I have to stop and watch sometimes. 

It will be over before I know it. 

I have to put this kid through college. 

And myself, so his highest educated parent isn't "I drive a truck." 

And the other one is telling his dad that his tooth hurts.  His dad told me it was "inappropriate to tell Wade that he didn't pay the dentist."  Well what do you tell a seven year old who is standing right there when the desk lady says "we need payment before services are rendered" and they make phone calls and leave messages.  Wade knows what's going on.  He was there when we canceled the appointment. 

I know what's going on.  His girlfriend is a pill popping freak, so there's always that to pay for.  (PS, seen all the pill bottles with my own two eyes.  I know this to be true.) 

The lady at the Child Support office physically facepalmed today at his latest request that comes less than a month after we signed a new stip. 

I can tell you all about comeuppance.  

I will live better.  Longer.  Stronger.  And I will continue to say what I need to say to the right people and wait my turn. It's always about waiting turns.  But I think I've been patient enough. 

After doing some research I discovered that I am quite French.  Like, my great grandmother Pearl has this epic lineage of French people that goes back to like the 700's.  Today I found a crystal in my jewelery box and strung it on the ribbon where a big purple fleur di lis that I found at a farmer's market hangs and decided to remind myself to be physically empowered. 

I did more dishes. 

I went to the 99 even in my big sweat pants with my head cold and my period. 

I responded to the new love letter from David in the mail. 

I ate my fucking steak partly raw. 

And I will win.  Every day of my life.  It's a struggle but I will win.