Sometimes life just tries and tries and tries to drag you down. Not just a bad hour type of drag down, more like 8 months of ‘what the fucking fuck’ is going on?! Did I kill a monk or a puppy in a past life? What the shit did I do for the karma train to come barreling down the track while I am tied firmly to it.
I am not really dwelling(apart from this blog ramble bear with me) on all the heavy but I do need to address that this year is turning into a mother fucker of a shit storm. And the last time this heavy happened was mercury retrograde time and GUESS WHO IS BACK?!?! Fucking Mercury. What is it with that asshole planet??! Some have said to embrace Mercury when in retrograde…make it ‘work for me’!? UMMMMM How do I ‘make it work…when the bitch made my new laptop die and warranty didn’t cover it and that’s how I usually ‘work it’? Or the main printer in our shop mysteriously stopped working when we print invites for our clients on it and its our main source of income? No warranties appear to fix these issues either mysteriously and coming out of maybe the most quiet first half of the year in retail we have ever had we have to sort accounts with suppliers before we even pay for groceries. One of our suppliers is already making life rather difficult, so we need to pay owed accounts before new laptops and printers are magically paid for.
There is just a list of bullshit that just somehow needs to be annihilated from the planet and sent back with Mercury on its next rotation.
Now computers and printers not working isn’t really that much of a drama. It’s a PAIN IN THE ASS but it’s not the end of the world. I’ve taken my shop computer home to work from which makes it a bit harder in the shop but it’s manageable and it’s great I have this here, but it’s all the big life stuff going on that is the beginning of our new life and it will be ok, but it’s exhausting knowing the right thing to do. Or even being able to do any of it.
I do not know how people go through separation hating each other?! Steve and I get along and seem to be on the same parenting page so we aren’t assholes to each other but some of the stories I hear from people who are at each others throats is scary. I get over petty things pretty quick and Steve isn’t spiteful so hopefully(touch wood) we can live somewhat harmoniously for our kids and for our own mentality. I know it’s early days, but with every other thing just breaking down around us, we seem to be handling things well considering. TOUCH WOOD. I think every single person I’ve chatted to that has separated and divorced hears that we get along ok and every one of them has said ‘just wait, it will get bad’ and I’m standing over here thinking ‘well yeh it could, but did you just challenged my naturally rebellious spirit’. Separation isn’t ever going to be easy, ever. Like ever! The anxiety is fucking crippling sometimes. But asshole is not in my nature and it’s not in Steve’s either. So for now I don’t mind being in the ‘we get along stage’ and hope that we can maintain that. Yep I may be deluded thinking it will stay like that, but I will always try to be peaceful. My parents are divorced, they have been for 20 years, but they see each other all the time and they are peaceful and have a laugh and chat. My Mum just went away with my Dad’s sister and my dad’s brothers wife, separation in our family doesn’t mean we all just stop being friends. Of course It hasn’t been easy at all, but they don’t rip each others throats out so hopefully I can be like that too. And I do realise things can change in split second with things like this so while the world crumbles around me, I’m just going to breathe for my babies. It’s already hard for them, so I won’t be making it harder by choice ever and I know Steve won’t either.
I had to take Iggy to the hospital the last two nights because he woke in the night to go to the bathroom and walking back to his room he tripped on air and smashed his face on the metal frame of his bed and left a nice gash on the bridge of his nose. The dr was awesome and let him have the glue instead of a stitch to try to ease the trauma, but of course last night before dinner Iggy managed to scratch it again and rip the glue off, so we went back and the entire Northern Beaches joined us in emergency. There was even another Iggy. When ordering my child from the baby factory I specifically ordered an Iggy so there wouldn’t be two of them in the classroom, and here we are being called into the room and two Iggy’s are standing there not knowing who was next like their names were John or Jack. We had to wait a really long time last night because about 3 or 4 ambo’s came in before we arrived and every sports game was missing injured players because they were with us at Mona Vale hospital . There nearly wasn’t enough seats for everyone. And one young girl came in with a dislocated finger and she was shaking and I chatted to her to distract her because she was with a team mates Mum who brought her and she was so worried about her dad being angry because he was going to dinner and he now had to come to the hospital. The mum and I assured her he wouldn’t be angry at all he would be just worried. And then Dad walks in. And yeh he was kinda pissed off. Pissed off he was there, pissed off things were taking a while, and he kept grabbing her painful as fuck dislocated finger telling her it didn’t look bad. Her teeth clenched and body shakes were telling another story. He not once gave her a hug and just sort of remained pissed off. And I sat there and kept my arm around Iggy and just reminded myself to always be his Mumma first. Not a shop owner. Not an ex-wife. Not a blogger. Not a person needing to go to dinner instead of sitting at emergency when they are injured or sick. Being my kids Mum is what will always get me through. Life gets busy. Life gets fucking hard. I have no clue the story behind the Dad’s night. He may have been on his way to the Oscars of work dinners that would pay for his kid’s school for the rest of their lives?! who knows. But That gorgeous girl didn’t need the stress of her dad going to dinner. She needed his arm around her shoulders telling her she would be ok. I told her 3 times she would be ok and the nurses or doctors would give her some rad drugs and not feel the bad pain soon and she giggled. She needed her Dad to make her giggle and reassure her. Not Dinner plans dad. Sorry I know I sound like a judgey asshole but I don’t actually care right now. Some poor bastards in there was having a heart attack and he needs to hurry up because his dinner plans were ‘ruined’ we get free medical here in Australia. Yeh it may take a while in emergency but its free and GOOD. Try having an emergency in the States. You go bankrupt AND have to wait for hours. Ok sorry missing the point here I know.
So no matter the black hole of bullshit we find ourselves in, and no matter what that cunty planet Mercury does to my sanity, my babies need their Mumma full stop. Not business owner Mum. Not Separated Mum. Not chronic pain Mum. Not Anxiety head Mum. Just their Mumma. So I’ll swim out of this black hole like I’ve always done. And I was a freaking amazing swimmer growing up. I just need to learn how to kick again. Mercury won’t be in retrograde long. But I will always be their Mum.