Disjointedly

I talked on the phone with my mother yesterday for an entire hour. This may not sound like anything extraordinary to most people, for me it was. I hardly ever talk on the phone, let along for that long. It was weird, the conversation started out light enough, and then it was like a levy broke and out tumbled all these words I've kept in, and they just kept coming like they would never stop.

I talked about being sick, about hurting, about parenting and how there is a ridiculous amount of testosterone in my home with three teenage boys and I don't always know how to navigate it all. I talked about my marriage, my concerns for my sister, missing my brother, about sick kids and doctor's appointments and being overwhelmed at times about it all. I'm not sure where it all came from but I ended up teary and felt like I'd just received a little bit of free therapy.

I've considered going to see someone, just to get it all out there. My mom encouraged me. She thinks it's a good idea. She also lamented the fact that my husband buzz cut Aiden's hair and offered to send me money to take him to a salon rather than ever let that happen again. This made me smile.

I keep meaning to call my Aunt, but it seems the only time I can ever remember is on Fridays, and that's the day she babysits her grand babies and can't really talk. If I can remember after dinner tonight, I will call her then. We haven't spoken much for over year now. Some of it is complicated... because of her relationship with my mom I sometimes feel like there are things I can't talk about. I used to call her to vent, to get advice when things were hard for me with my mom, but it ended up making her feel like she was in the middle and she felt bad being in that place. What I am really hoping is that this year, we can start a new relationship, kind of like hitting the reset button. Maybe if I am brave enough, I will even say as much.

I've been thinking lots about summer. I plan to get pedicures twice a month and shave my legs every day and wear cute sandals and spend loads of time in the sun, floating in pools and reading books on park benches while my kids play. I will absorb vitamin d like it's my job. I will buy the expensive bathing suit I actually love instead of cheaper, more conservative suit that sucks and squeezes everything in. I will drink bad ass tropical alcohol with tiny straw umbrellas and plan meals based on whether they can be cooked with fire, on the grill. I will buy a big umbrella and a cooler and we will go to the beach and I'll teach my babies to catch sand crabs and collect shells and I will spend way too much money buying sunblock for my albino family. It will be my best summer ever, I've already decided.

My oldest son will turn seventeen this May and I feel like that should freak me out a little, but it doesn't. He has a sweet girlfriend who is a couple years older than him and is already a Freshman in college, but they make an adorable pair. I know it's way too soon to speculate, but if they end up married and have babies and all that, I feel at peace with it. The only thing I wish for, and I'm hoping it isn't too unrealistic, is that once my kids move out of our home, they'll settle close by. I can't bear the thought of those I love best and most being far, far away. But even then, if that happens, I will save my pennies and dimes and fly all over God's green Earth and visit them and love them the best I can, until I'm gone...

Which reminds me that when I do die, I want to be turned into a tree. See these amazing urns? Maybe a Magnolia, which reminds me of home. Hopefully this isn't too morbid a thought, I think it's quite fascinating.

I miss my dad and I keep thinking about this cute little restaurant he took me to for breakfast one time... They had fresh squeezed orange juice and homemade cinnamon rolls that made your eyes roll back in your head and a little pond right out front where you can feed the ducks. Lovely. I wish I could go there with him tomorrow morning and have a good, old fashioned heart-to-heart. Seems like it's been a while since we've really talked. It's not like anything's wrong. I just miss him.

In other news, we've been watching American Idol and it has been fantastically disappointing to me so far. I can not believe the people they are letting though. It must sound different to them there in the studio than it comes out on TV. There's just no other explanation.

I miss the Pacific Ocean and I am remembering one of the very first dates I went on with my husband. It was November, but the water was still warm from all those summer suns, and even though I barely knew Trever, I stripped down to my bra and panties and went swimming. He jokes that this is when he first realized I was the woman he wanted to marry. Last summer, I caught Josiah, our 10 year old, watching me swim in my mother's pool. He was peeking through the sliding glass door. I waved him outside and he told me I looked exactly like a mermaid. He was my favorite child that day.

I've always been drawn to the water. Last night I soaked in the bathtub until I was all pruney and then I stared and my fingerprints, waterlogged and swollen. I remembered reading an article that explained that our fingers develop this response as some sort of an evolutionary adaptation, something about being more capable of holding on to things in water. I examined all the loops and lines in my prints and thought about dipping them in ink and memorizing them. I thought about all the detective shows I've watched. And then I pulled the plug and rubbed my body with a clean, dry towel. I could almost immediately feel the pruney-ness drying up, and I felt sad. Sometimes it is good to be so sensitive, so aware... And sometimes it is excruciating. It's hard to explain.

I don't have the energy to go into all that right now, though. Maybe tomorrow. This whole post has felt a wee bit disjointed, but that's just where I am today. Maybe I am always a bit like this.

Disjointedly,

Amy