So I actually wrote this on Sunday night, making the “this week” title logical, but then my computer died and the charger was in the car and I was like “Oh hell no,” so now I’m publishing it on Monday, making it “last week,” but I’m not changing it because I don’t want to. I’m the boss of my own self, as my BFF says. SO THERE.
- First of all, please add “Tween Years” to the list of Shit I’m Not Equipped to Handle but Must Because I’m a Mother. Okay thanks.
- No for real, what the fuck? She hates me. Then she loves me. Then she hates me again but loves me and then she’s 8 and then she’s 16 and she wants my approval but doesn’t but does and I’m both wonderful and horrid and she wants me around while wishing me dead.
- Clear? Good. Oh, people. Tweens make the toddler years seem simple like, um, I don’t know. Something simple. I’m not in the mood for metaphors. This is HARD, people. A new type of hard. A new level of hard. Fuck.
- On the plus side, this week sucked less than last week. Of course the bar was rather low, but whatever. Also, we have a plan. We’ve decided to sell our house. We’ll fix it up a bit and sell it. Then we’re going to move. Where?
- YEAH I DON’T KNOW STOP RUSHING ME One thing at a time.
- But the other thing we’re doing is purging the shit out of everything we own. Something about having my most valuable possessions stolen made me realize I don’t give a crap about anything else. They already took the best, the stuff that matters, so somehow I can just let go of the rest without a thought.
- Clothes, games, books, tchotchkes I thought I’d die without. To Goodwill, bitches. Shoes, kitchen stuff, kids’ toys, sentimental whatever the fuck. Get outta my house! Nobody wants you!
- Sorry. I’m a little off my rocker. But seriously, when the items that really mean something to you are gone, the lack of meaning of all other items stands in stark contrast and it’s like way easy to let it go. We’ve taken at least 2 truckloads to the Goodwill. I feel no pain. I feel joy. I feel freer by the box. You should totally try it. Just go through every single thing – pick it up, look at it – and if there’s a question of whether or not you need it, the answer is YOU DO NOT NEED IT. For real. Try it. You’ll fill up boxes by the hour. Or maybe we’re just hoarders.
- We may or may not end up living at my mom’s house for a while. I may or may not feel like a TOTAL WINNER being 34 years old and moving back in with my mom. Score! If that happens, we’ll be all five of us in two bedrooms. Weeeeeeeee!
- Actually, I’m just glad to have my mom, and a place to stay, and a life to live with people I love. And I’m happy to have a plan.
Things are lookin’ up, friends. It’s good to know what the next move is.
Have a great week.
Here are a few shots from the past week…you’ll note they’re just shots of us AT HOME. yeah, that’s because when you’re broke, you stay home. And when you’re moving, you PACK (at home). So we’ve been home, a lot.
Also, Georgie started preschool. Gah! Love!
She walked in and said “Hi, I’m Georgia and this is my big boy flame shirt and this is my teddy, Georgia.”