There are very few weeks in my life that pass by uneventfully. This week, I spent a night at the ER and had all the carpet ripped up in our basement because of a water heater that decided it had worked long enough and just let go, unbeknownst to us until we felt a little dampness on our two year old carpet. I’d go into the ER visit but I’d rather not in order to protect kid privacy. I’ll just say that all’s well that ends well and being a parent is hard. Seriously. It’s the hardest job out there.
As the bare cement floor of our basement dries out after its unplanned bath, I try to think of ways that it will be fixed after the adjuster comes to assess the damage. I cannot say that I am in a hurry to carpet it again after watching it all just get hauled out. I want to snap my fingers and have it be done, mostly because I just want my son to be able to go back there and rage over video games. I had named it my shecellar but, in all seriousness, it has been for the kids mostly and before that it was Dad’s. Maybe this was his retribution for us selling his pool table without his consent. I never did feel great about that though we all knew creating a family living space was just so necessary to make all of this work. Now we must create again, rethinking the whole idea once more. I want a record player down there, that’s it.
Aside from all the drama of the past couple weeks, we have found ways to pass our time wisely. Mom and I, for example, have watched 9 Academy Award nominated films, my favorite being Maestro so far. Through watching everything from Barbie to Society of the Snow, I have learned a lot about what Mom looks for in entertainment. For one, the story needs to be linear. All that flash forward, flash back stuff drives Mary crazy. “Stories should go from one step to the next, not bounce all over the place.” I agree, trying to keep track of what time period you’re in is tough enough as it is. Don’t confuse me. Stick to the story. Now, as we watch an ill-fated rugby team trying to decide whether or not they’re capable of cannibalism after crashing in the Andes, I don’t think grotesque gets the Mary seal of approval either. “Are they going out there eating her body?” Mom asked. “Yup, they are.” We’re both disgusted but, hey, survival is a messy business. So, yes, Maestro was our favorite so far with The Holdovers running a close second. Oppenheimer and Killers of the Flower Moon were great and all but both about an hour too long and far too masculine.
I came home this Sunday with a plan to write and relax. As we sit here and watch yet another plane crash victim succumb to eating a friend and then an avalanche joins the party, I am trying to breathe for these poor people. I don’t remember how these guys got out of this but this truly is one of the most remarkable stories of survival. Just, wow. Things this week have been tough for one of my kids and I can’t really go into the why or the what. I will say this, however. This week I realized that although I don’t do all the things that many of the Moms I know do, I am, at base, a good Mom. There are times when I feel all the guilt for all the things. Single parenting has forced me into a weird zone of survival that is not all that unlike the movie we’re watching right now. I’m serious. A whole lot of surviving has happened over the past 5 years and some of it has been ugly and gross. It’s not until something threatens the happiness of one of my kids’ that I turn into a scary little mama bear. To take the deepest of breaths has been a reminder I have to give myself on a daily basis. Although I cannot say with any confidence that this upcoming week will be without its bumps, I can say that I have all the snacks needed to survive said bumps (pub cheese included) and health and dental insurance to boot—both of which we used this week. We’re doing alright watching our movies, eating our snacks, picking up our medicine and planning our weeks. This society, the one we’ve created here, is doing just fine.
And, coming up on March 9th @ Holmestead Harvest in Whitman…join us