our regularly scheduled program will continue…

i snuck away from madness manor to go to madeline island on lake superior this past week. i thought i forgot to pack my pens…but i did have them. not that camping & hiking & swimming & surviving the rain in a tent lends much time to writing & drawing….
i did learn that i do not ever want to go camping with my ex-husband ever ever ever again no matter how badly i feel for excluding him. no more.
it was a beautiful trip even though i was terribly homesick the entire time.

hopefully i will have new journal pages up soon!

the screaming game

who would have guessed
a morning
without yelling & screaming
would feel so luxurious?
who would have guessed
a day
without being abused
by midgets
would feel so
refreshing?
was motherhood
the model
for getting
information from spies?
the methodology
for breaking suspects?
i spent a childhood
hiding from
loud voices & harsh words
how did i never suspect
motherhood
would be much
the same?

(i know all there is to know about the screaming game….)
the minions are with their father so that i can recover.
i felt it, in my bones, the tired worn down feeling. i felt it, in my heart, the seething anger. they push every button they can find, & i collapse in a heap.
this is motherhood? this is my life?
how do i fix this? how do i change my household into a more peaceful place?
i do not accept that this is the way it has to be…yet i cannot figure out another way.

…to be continued…

clarity

a moment of peace
of clarity
as the storm
rages
on
around you
somehow
the ground beneath
you
is firm
the air around
you
intoxicating
the sky
couldn’t be
more blue
the grass
couldn’t be
more green
for this moment
your imperfect world
is perfect.

just a moment–but it did happen! the storm refers to my kids–& their dad in this case. the storm that is my home. but i did find that moment where it all felt okay. better than okay.
it felt wonderful to be me.
i would like more of that, please.

the world is a stage

my life is full time
LARPing
one of the things i actually
enjoy
about motherhood

i said the thing about LARPing to my ex the other day as i was wearing my “utility belt” with my bokken tucked into it. i have goggles, tiaras, tutus, boots, belts, hats, and a variety of real & toy weapons that i play with.
life is a dress up party. or (from a poem i once wrote) every day is halloween.

we have friends who LARP (live action role playing for y’all who aren’t nerds)…but i am not sure i ever stop role playing. maybe there is a term for this? motherhood?

i think i channeled some shel silverstein in this quick comic doodle.

punishment doughnuts

that’s what we called them when he brought them home to us in that plain white box that meant one thing:
doughnuts!
except this plain white box held plain cake doughnuts…no frosting. no sprinkles. no custard….
doughnuts….
we imagined them to be the doughnuts one bought to say:
“you did a subpar job”
“you barely passed your exams”
“it’s not me; it’s you”
punishment doughnuts

first world problems, i know, but it is now an inside joke with my oldest son ever since my ex brought us home a box of plain cake doughnuts. they actually weren’t that bad once we got past the disappointment of them not being chocolate.

more comic doodles

titled: notes from the motherhood

i’ve begun to fantasize about billy bob thornton

billy bob: these children giving you a hard time, ma’am?
i can take care of them for you….

my thinking: i’m not sure what he means by “take care of”
but at this point i’m ready to roll those dice.it has been a hard time at madness manor while children’s nastiness runs at full speed. i am not sure how many of them wished me dead yesterday. i wonder if those parents who spank & do worse are actually doing the right thing because being a kind & affectionate mom seems to be failing miserably? will they grow up to be nice adults despite being assholes as kids? i was physically & emotionally abused as a child–which prevented me from being an asshole–but now i am a hot mess of a grown up. will it work opposite for my kids?
these are the things i wonder as they scream horrible things merely because they did not get what they wanted….
to beat or not to beat my kids?
i do not have the stomach to be an abusive parent…but i can write comics!

obviously i need to look at what billy bob thornton actually looks like. i plan to practice that with some google pics….
meanwhile, i did doodle some pictures of nasty little children
& one doodle of one of my actual children, but not looking nasty today. pleasant children mostly today….

to do list

1.) finish my house
2.) take over the world

not remembering my mindset when i wrote this…but it’s pretty easy to guess.
i like this mindset. granted it is going to take me quite awhile to finish my house….

help me

help me, mother
help me, father
i cry to the parents
i never had
the parents who
never taught me
how to be
help me, cosmic mama
show me, cosmic da
be gentle
with me
hold me; soothe me
chase away my demons.

this might be my admitting that i do need parents. the parents i got were pretty bad. some moments of good…but all in all, a crapfest. is it too late for me to appeal to some universal parents? to admit that i can’t do this on my own?

i did find myself watching a woodpecker outside the window of my house as it ate ants off of a fruiting tree, thinking to myself, my dead dad led me here…to this house. thinking that maybe it was a gift from him, from wherever he is now. an apology? an attempt to not be a shitstorm of a dad?

maybe if i open myself up to the parenting that i have been refusing ever since i figured out my parents where not going to give me what i needed (sadly, i figured this out at a very young age)…maybe if i open myself up now to being parented? maybe….

wishes

i spend all of my wishes
desperately
holding my family
together
every wish on every star
to counter act
the wishes they make
against each other
against themselves
every eleven eleven
a prayer for a truce
an end to the fighting
i have no wishes
left over
for me.

this is kind of a reflection of something a lot of parents go through, i think. giving everything to your children & having nothing left despite the advice of self-care for better parenting…

i suppose every family fights? i have only known two families, my birth family & the one i have made. it seems that fighting is genetic.
but still it empties me out. watching siblings torture each other & then cry that they are not loved….

and then i wonder if it is my fault. if i have done something to make peace an unattainable goal. if my monstrosity is what fuels their bitter fights. something they learned from me despite all my efforts to not be a monster…. especially when i find myself wishing i could make a wish for me sometimes.

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑