I hate it. I hate being in between, in limbo, in flux. I hate not knowing where my life is going at the moment.

I’m a planner. I organize, I research, I plan it out. That’s not to say I can’t be spontaneous, but the truth is, I feel the responsibility for making the larger things and the smaller things that make life happen falls on my shoulders. And the truth is – that’s ok. I’m anal retentive, have attention to detail, I’m a perfectionist, and a control freak. If it wasn’t that way, Poe and I would be more at odds.

But right now, there’s two things.

What’s my mother’s health? She’s having a PET scan which should tell us more, hopefully. But really – they don’t knwo what the hell’s wrong with her.

And there’s this house thing. You see, my mother now wants to move, preferably to a little mining town that my dad loves in order to make him happy and make him go. If that should happen, we’d move into my parents house. This would be a fabulous boon for our family. The kids would have their own rooms. We’d have a dining room table and chairs (instead of eating off our laps as we are now). A backyard. A dog. Space. A home. Instead of the jury-rigged thing we’re living in now.

But. But. But.

My father isn’t too keen on the idea, but my mother is fixated on it. That’s the first obstacle. Second, she doesn’t (obviously and rightfully) doesn’t want to move on anything until she gets better. Let’s face it folks – she may not get better.

So – My life is in flux. I don’t want to move forward with my plans for THIS house, because we may move soon. Or not.

And finally – in my job. There’s a possibility of good things to come, but they hinge on someone’s personal life choices. But again. The waiting.

I just feel like I’m waiting for something to happen. Like life is on hold in the meantime.

Then there’s other transitions happening. Poe started a new job. Logan will start K in the fall. etc.

I simply hate limbo.

When you come to the end of your rope, tie a knot and hang on.

— Franklin D. Roosevelt

Something I really need to remember right now.

Things are such crap I can’t even write about it. It’s all seeming to go down the toilet and I’m frustrated and angry and hurt and sad. So – that’s why not too much updating right now. I’m holding on by my fingernails.

So – without going into a deep thought about any of it – the crapola:

My son is a thief and a liar.

He’s also sick and no one I try has been able to help.

My husband will be jobless in a week and a half.

I know I’ve said it before and each time it’s been true. I’m heavier and uglier than I’ve ever been.

I don’t know where God is. I have no peace. All I see is red anger when I try to pray, followed by tears of desperate unmentionable need.

This is not my depression. I know what that feels like. This is something else. This is life going down the crapper.

And to top it all off my in laws will be here this weekend, and I don’t have a nice gracious bone in my body right now.

Fingernails. Just hangin’ on.

Tomorrow I plan on doing my Word Goddess entry of “In the Life…” I’ll do a day in the life photo entry. I was GOING to do a picture a day for the whole month, which started out great, until we were down with the flu for a full week. So that idea got shot to hell. Oh well. I’ll try to do a whole day in pictures kind of thing tomorrow, and post it the next day.

So, in list form, my day. And why I sometimes wish I was alone on a beach.

Before work: Joseph tries to set the house on fire. This is a first, and I’m not even dressed yet. He’s grounded, and we’re signing him up for a fire awareness program though the local fire department. And my expensive pajamas have a hole in them.

At work: Find out that my boss will not be in again this morning and I will have to be her.

Convince a music supervisor that we will NOT be paying for something. Convine him he must talk to an executive ’cause no – I really know what I’m talking about and we’re not paying for it. (He did and I was right HA!)

Get no work done since I was dealing with travel fires (and all day yesterday).

After lunch: Realize that I have not sent in the school newletter for printing that I should have sent to the printer last night.

Get a call from Poe that his work will not let him leave early. This is a problem of major proportions and consequence in our lives. His work location moved buildings to another town. One in which he cannot get back to pick up the kids their two daycares in time. Therefore he needs to leave at 4:30pm each day instead of 5pm. You know, taking a half hour lunch instead of an hour (which he already does and doesn’t get paid for). The answer is no, and he has to put in his resignation, and we’ll figure something out in the two week notice period.

Drive home from work to fix and send the newsletter, since they can’t wait until tonight to make the printing deadline, and I don’t have the software on my work computer. Of course I’ve already had lunch, so now this is time off the clock, dammit. Drive back to work.

Call my mom and tell her we’re screwed. She says she and dad will pick up the kids – even though they travel each month (we’ll pay someone to pick them up!) Unacceptable. She doesn’t want to admit that.

Get another call from Poe, that the entire office went to bat for him, as they don’t know what they’ll do without him. He’s tentatively got his schedule change.

Call mom and call off the dogs.

Get ready to leave work for the day and get a call from the principal that Joseph has threatened another child with stabbing her, and then threatened yet another boy with actual scissors. He’s not on in-school suspension when I told her that 1) I can’t take time off work for regular suspension ’cause I’m already taking time off for the IEP next week. and 2) Hello! He hates school and me telling him not to go is NOT punishment no matter how much she thinks it is. Stay on the phone for 45 minutes and end up crying while trying desperately not to let her know I’m crying.

Wipe my nose (from the crying) and realize I’ve given myself a nosebleed.

Drive home. Cry some more in the car.

Clean up kitchen while Poe makes dinner. He tells me to try and see on the budget if we can make it on my salary alone. He wants to be a stay-at-home dad. I go look (I do the money) while he finishes dinner.

He gets call that in May his father will be going in for delicate neck surgery in May.

The answer to the budget question is HELLNO!

Eat dinner. Banter about the working at night question. Remind him of what life was like when we did that for 5 years already. HELLNO!

Put kids to bed. And now is downtime. Am fully prepared for major earthquake or wildfire before bed.

I got one kid down, and I got the husband down.

I have a shameful thing to admit.

I’m a TERRIBLE NURSE. I hate taking care of sick people. I have no bedside manner. Oh I’m fine with the technicalities. You’ll get what’s needed. Absolutely. And I’ll know how much medicine you need or have had, what your temperature is, how your symptoms have changed. Have no fear of that.

I lack patience. Patient Patience Ha!

Now, mind you – I get sick too. I do. I don’t want fawning though. I want to be left the hell alone when I get sick.

I think that this is yet another legacy of my upbringing. You see as I was growing up – I was in and out of hospitals all the time it seems. Not for me, for mom and grandma. Heart conditions, tumors, some cancer, it was just ongoing. So now, I have trouble even visiting someone in the hospital. I can’t bring myself to do it. The part that really effected me though was the martyrdom of my mother.

You see me? I’m at my daughters recital. Oh no, I got out of the hospital a few days ago. Oh I’m a little weak… But I’ll be fine. Don’t mind me. Oh – you’re watching Michele? Oh gee… I suddenly don’t feel so good. Here let me take my meds. Oh I take this for this and that for that. Oh, you’re watching Michele again? Oh, honey – see if one of the moms can take her home when it’s done, I just need to go home and lay down.

Over and over and over again.

Here’s the kicker. She really was sick. This wasn’t some weird thing. She really was. But she also really really wanted the attention for it. She did. At all the times when it really was ok for me to have some attention – like a band concert, or a dance recital, where I was on a stage for Christ’s sake.

Now? I don’t want attention when I’m sick. At all. Or if someone’s sick at work? I don’t care. Stop telling me how awful you feel. You feel that bad? Go home to bed, stop crying here.

Add the resentment I sometimes feel when I’m sick – and guess what folks? I have to work anyway because I have to save my sick days for the kids. I only stay home with a high fever (note I didn’t say just fever) or I actually feel that driving would be dangerous due to my condition. I already have to take so much time off for the IEP’s and meetings and conferences associated with the kids. And Hey! I want to keep my job.

Sickness just annoys the hell out me.

And remember how I said I was falling into the abyss and overwhelmed? Well, now Poe’s down with the ick as well. Leaving me. To do it all. And I’m not sure I can. Thank God it’s the weekend.