So I can remember later

I have the bronchitis. OK, I don't know for sure that I have the bronchitis, but I like to self-diagnose. I wonder if there's a label for that? For chronic self-diagnosis.

Bottom line though is that yes, I've been sick since Saturday, but I'm feeling better.

It was a rough weekend ... it wasn't "my" weekend, and that always sucks, and I'm trying to adjust. And then I got sick Saturday. And then my beloved foster dog found his forever home Sunday. That is actually great news for him, but I always get a bit depressed when I see them go ...

Anyway, I was swapping texts with a pal and I thought this, which I wrote, might be worth posting. If only so I can remember later ... I wrote:

"You know what? I think I'll 'get there.' Today I think that; it could change. But the fact that I think I can get there, for even a small amount of time, is a big step."

And it's true because this year has been a roller coaster. An invasion. A theft.
But it's also been a learning experience.

Reagan

This is going to be a year of firsts ... what, with the new ruling in place and all that re: conservatorship and all. (Spell-check is saying that I spelled that C-word wrong, but I'm ignoring it and don't believe it right now and don't feel like looking it up anyway).

It will be my first Thanksgiving where my son's father has possession of him. For the entire holiday. For five nights. And he's taking him out of state to see some of his family.

As if I didn't have enough to fret over, I really wasn't worried about being a topic of conversation among the herd of them (they are Catholic and multiply a-plenty), until someone said, "I'm sure you'll be a hot topic ..." (blah, blah, I can't think beyond that).

Really? Please don't instigate my worrying about something that I hadn't even thought of worrying about yet. Because while I am an ego-maniac, I'm not *that* narcissistic.

But wait, they might actually talk about me. It's possible.

I remember when I first met the matriarch of this bunch, and I remember the story I was told about a former daughter-in-law who divorced the eldest son. And do you know why she would do such a thing? I know, in hindsight, her explanation should have had me running for the hills.

Seriously, the matriarch of this family, a woman in her 60s at the time, told both me and my mother that the former daughter-in-law? Well the only explanation why she would divorce the eldest, most responsible son? Simple: Demonic possession. She was possessed by the devil. You know, Satan.

So really, why would I ever worry about what they might tell my son while they have him for a five-day stretch?

Just answer the question honestly

"It was a good visit. And when I sort of jokingly asked if he was engaged (because I wear a fake ring on my left ring finger), he was 'befuddled.'

Perhaps he did not want to ruin a fun night.

The text came the next morning ... his confession."

In honor of Veterans Day

I've always loved this song written by Bruce Robison, "Travelin' Soldier." It's been covered by many, but Bruce does it best. This one version is live and raw.

The Dixie Chicks later covered it. They're both worth a listen. The lyrics are the same, and it's the lyrics that always get me.

From Wikipedia:"'Travelin' Soldier' is a song written and originally recorded by American country music artist Bruce Robison in 1996 and again, in rewritten form, in 1999. It was later recorded by Ty England on his 1999 album, Highways & Dance Halls. The first rendition to be issued as a single was by the Dixie Chicks in December 2002 ..."

Thank you to all of our veterans who served and fought for the freedom we have today.

Lyrics:

Two days past eighteen,
he was waitin' for the bus in his army greens.
Sat down in a booth at a cafe' there,
gave his order to the girl with a bow in her hair.
He's a little shy, so she gives him a smile,
and he said, "Would you mind sittin' down for a while
and talkin' to me? I'm feelin' a little low."
She said "I'm off in an hour, and I know where we can go."

So they went down, and they sat on the pier.
He said "I bet you got a boyfriend but I don't care.
I've got no one to send a letter to.
Would you mind if I sent one back here to you?"

I cried
Never gonna hold the hand of another guy
Too young for him they told her
Waitin' for the love of a travelin' soldier
Our love will never end
Waitin' for the soldier to come back again
Never more to be alone
When the letter says a soldier's comin' home

So the letters came
from an army camp
in California then Vietnam.
And he told her of his heart;
it might be love,
and all of the things he was so scared of.
He said "When it's gettin kinda rough over here,
I think of that day sittin' down at the pier,
and I close my eyes and see your pretty smile.
Don't worry, but I won't be able to write for a while."

I cried
Never gonna hold the hand of another guy
Too young for him they told her
Waitin' for the love of a travelin' soldier
Our love will never end
Waitin' for the soldier to come back again
Never more to be alone
When the letter says a soldier's comin' home

One Friday night at a football game,
The Lord's Prayer said and the anthem sang.
A man said "Folks would you bow your heads
for a list of local Vietnam dead."

Cryin' all alone under the stands
was a piccolo player in the marching band,
and one name read, and nobody really cared
but a pretty little girl with a bow in her hair.
 
I cried
Never gonna hold the hand of another guy
Too young for him they told her
Waitin' for the love of a travelin' soldier
Our love will never end
Waitin' for the soldier to come back again
Never more to be alone
When the letter says a soldier's comin' home

I love my cousin

"You know what? Fuck anyone who doesn't support you 100% (especially family) through this. If they can't see how hard this is on YOU and be there to support YOU as a mother, don't waste any time thinking about them."

Trying to hang on to my marbles ...

Interesting article that provides an alternative to co-parenting: Parallel Parenting.

Because, yes, I've been wondering how I'm going to survive raising my son, with a recently returned ex, "without losing every last one of [my] marbles."


Try Parallel Parenting instead