his temper tantrum

empowers karma to teach

while i sip my tea

Last night, he watched the game.  During the game I caught up on emails, washed and dried dishes, did laundry, made my bed, put the dogs out, and laid out his clothes for this morning.  I was tired, as the clock pushed ten o'clock, and I used the lift to get him into bed, and then catheterized him, and shut off the light.  All that was left was for me to put on my pajamas and brush my teeth.

And then he remembered a report he didn't send and wanted me to bring him his computer, his glasses, and his phone.  All in different spots.  And I pushed back.  It was ten, I was tired, and he was in bed.  Angry.  Demanded.  Pleaded - there was an audit, he had to do the report.  I was ticked, and tired, and got his stuff but was rude about it.  Clearly unimpressed, and tired of always having to do something for someone else and not being able to just go to bed when I'm tired.

He was furious that I pushed back and was frustrated with him.  He got so angry that he threw his work laptop and broke it.  Threw his phone, and threw his glasses.  I picked up the glasses, and told him to stop throwing shit I bought, or he'd get Hakim glasses next time.   

I get it is frustrating to have to ask.  But it's just as frustrating to be with a five year old that can't hear no.  I'm sorry your stupid report didn't get done during the nine hours you sat in your office, but that doesn't make it my issue.  And throwing your laptop didn't get it done, either.  I should have just gone to bed.

This morning, he gets to call and see about getting a new laptop.  He mentioned he'd have to go to Ajax.  I didn't say so, but I hope he knows that's a wheeltrans thing.  

 edges, sharpening

like feathers, plumping with cold, 

breathe in and breathe out

On Friday, we had a meeting with our team.  It was a great meeting and we got a lot accomplished.  We connected, were honest, and I feel really good about that.  Our manager took a moment to say how proud of us he was, especially me, after a very tough meeting the day before.  Amoung friends, he commented that sometimes people are offended by my edginess and that I had taken the effort to give good foodback without any edge.  It was a nice moment.

But it.. bothered me all weekend.

And this morning, I started to cry and really work out what's bothering me.  Here it is:

• It's not people, broadly, it's people, narrowly.
• No one would ever call out a man for being smart and sarcastic.  In fact, I've heard it called a "mic drop" when men do the same fucking thing.
• I'm kind.  
• I never take the credit.  I always bring my team or others with me.  I always recognize their work, no matter how minimal I think it was.  
• And the management of my team STOOD BY while someone took all the fucking credit for a large piece of work I did.  Didn't speak up, didn't correct, and didn't recognize me for the work or my kindness in just letting it happen.
• Two people who are edgy - like "nearly got in a fistfight and screaming at one another" edgy BOTH got promoted in the last year.
• I'm exhausted - always doing the right thing, lending a hand, managing things I shouldn't manage because others are tired - and there's no recognition for that.

Yeah, so this morning I'm really questioning why I'm trying to be so damn resilient and always propping up others, because it seems to be that's all for naught when a middle aged woman dares to have an informed, thoughtful question and is smart enough to make jokes.

barely nine o'clock,

i do this to myself, and

never get to sit.

Somehow, I managed to agree to make 2 lasagnas today - one veggie, one meat - even though I'm volunteering for four hours in the afternoon, have to get bob ready for his PSW, need to finish up some wayward laundry, and would have liked to chillax a bit more.

And so, instead of starting my plethera of chores, I'm blogging.  Watching twitter.  Having a conversation on messenger.  And sort of seeking out a decent recipe for vegetarian lasagna.

memory lane's walk

it feels like a vacation

there has been much love

Yesterday was the 20th anniversary of our first date.  Crazy.  And as we ate a delicious meal from our favourite restaurant, with a table lit by a candle, we talked about our favourite trips, our favourite memories, and all the things we want to continue holding dear.

It's funny what we both remember, and don't remember.  One of my favourite trips with the kids is our trip to NS, where we rented a cottage on the ocean and played all week in the tides and the red sand, the cold water tickling our feet.  We did day trips to parks, saw some friends, and read and drank.  The kids, generally, were well behaved and for being on the ocean, I don't remember fretting about them getting hurt (probably because it was cold).

He barely remembers that trip - it's lost for him in a sea of other NS memories - the camping trips taking a far more precious place with him.  Some of those memories I like, but others are clouded by rain and dirt and cooking over fires and I don't quite love them the way he does.

His favourite memories are trips to the zoo and ROM, eating out with the kids, and day trips.  Mine are the pajama days we spent in the basement watching trilogies.  We purposely did not talk about the bad:  the endless court cases, our son's mental illness and behaviour, Bob's worsening disease.

It's refreshing to my spirit to remember only the good right now, and to hold it close.  So much is changing, I'm glad we have those memories.

 listening, I feel

empowered to understand

why he's not talking

I'm sitting at my desk - as I typically do in the mornings before my breakfast or shower.  I answer emails, plan my day, and otherwise try to figure out the approach I will take.  And whilst doing so, I listen to my husband and his PSW chat.

His PSW was off for a few days and got tested for Covid.  My husband is waxing poetical about the threat of covid.  About how he was worried, finding out his PSW was off sick, that perhaps his presumed bladder infection was more than a bladder infection, and that he should have listened to me (he didn't say that part, I added it) and go for a covid test last week.  But he didn't, and allowed himself to be placated that it was just a UTI, and then had to think about the myriad of folks he might have infected, by not checking.

And the bigger question is - why is he chatting about this, so open in his thoughts and interested in opinions, when he is no longer this way with me.   That's what prompted our fight last night - his compartmentalizing things when I need him to not - angry that I'm anti-organized religion and that I'm bringing it up while he's drawing or while he's watching the game.  I'm sorry I only have crises when it's inconvenient.

Choose a word to describe yourself.  Inconvenient.  

I'm the nurse and maid and cook.   I do his bidding.  He loops me in where he thinks I might be helpful - coaching his team or asking performance questions.  He argues even the smallest details with me, to the point where I become weary speaking with him or full of anxiety.  I miss the introspective, funny man who used to share his inner most thoughts.  Now he speaks to me in sentence-commands:  i have a meeting starting.  i thought you were bringing my shake.  why are we doing this now?   i'm out of prune juice.

This morning he tried to link my refusal to deal with organized religion - because of my past, the abuse, the hatred, the endless ruination - with amazon shopping.  How leaders at amazon have probably manipulated or lied or ruined or abused pepole - and yet we still use the service.  I stood there, thoughts shouting loudly, and said I didn't quite get his point and would he like a coffee? 

Maybe it's me that has made this relationship transactional.  

 so flipping angry

parts of me still missing, from

the theft of my soul

I started a fight tonight about organized religion.  I'm so sick of it.  Propping up Trump, misleading children, making people stupid.  But not my husband.  He's convinced it's mostly good people doing good things and just flawed, sometimes.

We both said things we can't take back.  I don't even want to.

 there were, I suppose

tiny hints along the way

that i overlooked.

There was an argument here yesterday.  My husband does intermittent fasting (I gave it up after 3 or 4 months - having seen no results and spending each and every of my mornings thinking about food) and I do not.  He eats between 12 and 8 every day.  I eat normally, and try to eat as fuel and conciously.  

Yesterday, he had his shake - which is peanut butter, almond milk, spinach, banana, and his cocktail of seeds and stuff that helps his bowls.  I then made myself a tortilla with ham, cheese, and salsa.  An argument ensued.

Apparently, me making myself a nutritious lunch is triggering his lack of self-discipline and creating so much fomo for him that he's over eating and gaining weight.  I need to be more supportive.  Upon inspection of this concept - support - what he means is going back to IF, and starving all the fucking time, and eating shakes even tho i do not like them or find them filling.  My answer was that he needs to get his shit together and figure himself out.

I'm sorry, but I don't need to alter my eating or change the foods I like because you want to do both your diet and mine. 

Sometimes, life is just annoying.