Restless late night rendezvous' with tasty ear less rabbits by fridge light...

Let me start out by saying that today is not going to be anything of significance. It will not be a funny, ha-ha leave you doubled over with a stream of chortles and giggles echoing down the hall.....it won't leave you wiping the snot off your nose, and rubbing your achy eyes from the sappy emotional stimulation you get....it won't probably leave you feeling anything....except maybe disgust from the path this seems to be taking....I mean like get out the puke bucket now type of disgust....or maybe pity. And I can tell you right now I don't want, need or even care about shit like that now.

I have hit rock bottom and my indulgence, my drug is stale marshmallow Easter bunnies I stole from my kids baskets....obviously not vegan approved and so I am sitting in the privacy of my closet sucking them down in guilt....at least its better than falling off the wagon...or at least the more severe wagon like snorting or shooting up..no, now I'll just be constipated for 2 days.


See, I have had a really shitty week, and quite honestly the only things keeping me sane are my 2 kids and even those are beginning to wear me down a little....even those little fingers pinching my cheeks are not enough to keep the flood gates from crashing down. And the crashing came last night as we sat snuggled on the couch watching Ramona and Beezus....and I just lost it....at the scene where Picky Picky dies...you know the one? Well if you haven't read the book, but at least seen the movie or vice versa...well you know...

Little girl with big sister having to bury family pet in backyard....especially given previous drama and sisterly fight between the two prior to this bring together moment...well-it got me all worked up....and then I just couldn't stop it once it started and then it just kept coming and coming and coming.....try explaining to an 8 year old and 2 year old how something like that epitomized your current situation on so many levels....but who has time for a much needed cry anymore? I had to suck it up, and dry my eyes and usher little heathens to shower and beds, and exhausted I lay there last night unable to sleep...

All I wanted to do was cry until my eyes and heart dried up....I just wanted to be numb.  Strangely, this is what drove me to drugs the first time around and now I am driven to secret rendezvous with the Maytag man and his contents.

I just don't have it in me to cope with anything anymore...and not because I want to be a defeatist or failure or someone who gives up....I just cannot stomach it. I cannot mentally handle it....my brain is going to explode....I could spend an entire hour sitting here trying to come up with something witty to say....some anecdote to relay, something worth reading....but all I can do is lay at night and just toss and turn, staring at the ceiling wondering who the fuck I am and why am I so miserable?

I mean let's start with item No.1: my sister. Or lack thereof.

We have never been close. Blame it on difference in personality. Blame it on me wanting a brother and not a sister. Blame it on the fact that she chose one side and I the other. And the side she hates.  Blame it on unhealthy sibling rivalry. Blame it on people pitting me against her in some battle of who is a success versus the black sheep. Blame it on our genetics. Blame it on environmental reasons. Blame it on me. Blame it on her. Just accept it.


Whatever the case may be, the fact remains we are distant....and yet in the past 2 years I was working really really really hard to make it work. I quite honestly can admit I had found a friend I never knew I had in the one person I resented and disliked the most....ok, second to my father, but still.  We had forged this strained bond that left us for some moments coming together for just the present. To spending time together, to frantic crazy phone calls only us Uresti's would understand for even crazier advice. To weird inside jokes that will leave me laughing for years. I had managed to find a way to relate to someone who is totally unrelatable.

Mind you, I will be the first to admit how envious of her I am....I think I would be a big fat pants on fire liar if I said I didn't get somewhat green thinking of all that she has going on, all that she has accomplished and wondering if I didn't have children would I be the same. But then I realize no. My 1st child saved me from overdosing, and my 2nd has only reinforced it, and so I would be fooling myself and the world if I ever thought I could measure up to half of what my sister is in her professional and academic life. Hell, even her personal life seems way more blissful than mine right now.

But regardless of said envy, I truly had begun to feel like she gave a shit about me and my petty little life.  The reality is with law school, tax journal, internships, booking classes and being the all around "good one", there was little room for the mundane and ordinary aspects of my life in hers....but even so she had made this quantum leap into building something...I don't yet know what....and as luck would have it will never get hte chance to....

I mean lets face it....may be it was meant to be short lived....however fleeting, I will never forget her being there in the room when Max was born (grey, traumatized and all), I will never forget the few moments we have had the past year between phone calls and much needing venting over lunches....

But the truth is it wasn't enough.....here she is four months later still ignoring me, casting me out of Eden so to speak because of some unforgivable sin....an extremely "you know what you did and you must apologize" hissing, and there I was. Alone. Sisterless. Completely alone.  And people wonder why the hell I would have chosen a brother over this bullshit.

The reality is that I don't know what it is I supposedly did, I am not going to apologize, and I don't give a shit. And yet none of this makes me feel any better. None of this makes me sleep any better. And none of this changes that I do in fact give a shit. More than a shit.  And so I toss and turn. And toss and turn.


item No. 2:  my job. I go everyday and work everyday because I have to. Because it's my duty, its what I have to do. Because I am caught up in some lame ass cycle we all are as hardworking Americans where we take on financial obligations and lifestyle changes and sometimes after 2 or 3 or fuck, 20 years working with no substantial change in your salary, and the finances rising and rising.....well you can see how it can be a daunting and bleak outlook on life....I mean I said it before and I will say it again. I am worth more dead than alive.....and lately that dead doesn't look too bad.

I am listless and tired and just plain burnt out on the job, the people, my routine. my life.  I would give anything to stay home with my son, be there with baked cookies when Char gets off the bus, and volunteer 20 hours a week at a soup kitchen or a co-op or something. But spiritual and moral fulfillment never equated keeping a roof over my kids heads....and nowhere in the employment handbook does it talk about passion and being synonymous with your career.

Nope, here I am stuck in a dead end job surrounded by people who laugh at me and wondering how the fuck did I get here. Oh, that's right. I didn't finish college. I didn't gain better employment skills. Or maybe not better but more varied.  And I didn't want it bad enough to change it.


And that keeps me tossing and turning some more.


item No. 3:   my baby boy.  ECI has determined although he is wickedly smart, he is socially lagging behind...say 8 months behind...and speech isn't that far off....so in a nut shell he is 36 month level with his gross and fine motor skills....and 20-22 months on speech...and 16 months socially....

what does that mean you ask? It means he is basically unable to relate to kids his age in any setting....can rough house and play with an 8 year old, but is frustrated to tears with another 2 year old.....

so behavior therapy will take place 45 minutes every week, and the school is still adamant he isn't good enough to stay.....mind you 3 other kids are being seen at that school by ECI services....so we are caught in limbo....every other school whose list we took his name off when getting into this one has a 6 month waiting list....I don't know if we can wait that long....factor in further that he was placed in a class where every other kid is 6-8 months older than him...so now we might move him to the class below the one he's on....which a child we personally know who is only 4 days younger than Max is in.....

I lay awake wondering what I did wrong....whether I ate the wrong thing....skipped a prenatal....do I have bad genes? was it because I couldn't get him to breast feed as long as Charlotte....was it the fact I didn't get to stay home with him? Is it the fact that the gap between him and Charlotte is enough that they both exhibit signs of only child syndrome? Who the hell knows...all I know is that I roll over and watch him sleep...his soft curls, his chubby cheeks, and I ache inside because I don't know if I am mentally equipped to handle this....but I have no choice, and I would move Heaven and Earth for him and Charlotte so I know deep down I have what it takes....

item No. 4:  all this shit doesn't mean anything because I need to be grateful. This is the hardest thing to wrap my brain around, the thing that breaks me out in hives that now cover my chest and neck and leave me a garish red scaly beast. This is the thing that finally brings my restlessness to a close.  The fact that no matter all the previous shit I described, ranted, raved and just plain griped....it doesn't matter because there is so much less I could have.....and what little I do I cherish so much more than my limited vocabulary can express...

 and so it is I leave you with these thoughts that make it worth dragging my ass out of bed....makes it worth taking that deep breath of air each day instead of holding it in until I pass out into oblivion.....

We are never given more than we can handle. Or at least I try and believe this.....its comforting to know that at the very least I am testing my limitations and finding out what exactly I am capable...even if it means I am constantly on the verge of a nervous breakdown...

These weary bones of mine ache for change, ache for something more and by God I have to find what it will take to ease the soreness and pain....even if it eludes me, even if it takes a lifetime and I die trying to find it....it's all I can do.

Chocolate Easter bunnies are better frozen and then eaten..and you should always start at the ears first...


and so it is I finally roll over exhausted from the tossing and turning and pass smooth the fuck out...