the money issue

Lately, swirling dramas notwithstanding, I feel as though a lot of my time is spent managing other people's inability to manage themselves. I'd make a great secretary-oops executive assistant. I have forced my way into the financial no man's land of our income and made a budget. Not a perfect one, but a working one. A perfect one would have an extra $10, 000 per month to work with. I feel resistance at every turn although I do not know why-I'd love to hand it over to my accountant. Just give me my allowance, make some investments, pay the bills and leave me alone. No that's not true. I do like using my calculator. I like knowing where it goes and how. I need to know.

When I was little I would count my money endlessly. I loved having it, I loved saving it and watching it grow. I was a careful spender even back then. As an adult my taxes were always paid on time, I always saved some every month and I always worked however many jobs I needed to have enough money left over. Now my life has turned on its head. I long for that independance and control over my money. I am happy whilst part of a couple to pool my money for the greater good but I also expect that river to flow both ways-which is does not always do. At least not without some effort.

I hope that as spring comes, there will be a growth of faith in my amazing and miraculous ability to organize the world-at least our world. An upswing of trust and goodwill and a willingness to balance out weakness with strength, like with dislike. A sort of financial/pyschic give and take.
And I hope nothing major happens...

Hopeful Hearts

Beautiful blustery snowy days make me want to stay inside and bake. With the last of my flour I am making peanut butter cookies-they'll go well with the coffee and Sarah Slean is wailing and warbling most beautifully in the background about lost love. All is white again. All is quiet and hopeful and in waiting.

Confused

I have been at home sick for the past day so R has been in charge..well to the extent that he can be in charge, which looks more like me telling him what to do from the couch. I may be pushy but I do have children to take care of. If I left it up to him they would get fed-but not unitl 10:00pm. This is a real problem for him, a real concern for me-how not in charge he is sometimes. Maybe he's just not used to it.

He did all the right things though. He did the dishes, cleaned the cat shit out of the box, brought me tylenol and made his own dinner. He made the child her snacks (at my request.) (He did leave me a full sink of dirty dishes in the morning though).

He would have done them, I know he just ran out of time.

Time with him is the really big issue. He spent almost an hour washing the dishes. He spent an hour preparing his own dinner. He spent 2 hours relaxing in front of the tv after his "gruelling day" at work. He had a headache. I can't seem to make him see that spending 45 minutes washing dishes is excessive-he thinks that's how long it takes to get them clean.

Sigh. It would be a fight-he would get defensive. It would end poorly for both of us, so I avoid the subject. Compared to me. he has absolutely NO time management skills. I therefore, have to spend my energy managing his time for him so that things like my kids can get fed and put to bed.

Maybe I don't give him enough credit, he's better than a lot of men. Maybe I am controlling, but I see his whole evening going down the drain needlessly because of this issue. I wish I could talk to him about it, to show him how to manage his time in a way that doesn't make him angry and defensive. His biggest complaint in life is his lack of time but he refuses to see his own time wasting in the big picture and in the day-to-day of his life. He seems unable to make any changes for the better in his own routines and approaches to things. He refuses to use the dishwasher!! I would like him to have more freedom-that's why I do so much for him-so that he not only gets things done but has time to sit down at the end of the day too. I do it everyday afterall

I can only see this an as argument with no winner. Both of us should be the winner but he won't change. I don't know if he can. What do I do??

finally some snow.

Snow!!
But I'm hibernating.
I wouldn't mind skating or playing outside.
But the wind is killing my spirit.
Still it's pretty.
My 75 year old neighbour is shoveling her driveway.
I am inside in my jammies drinking tea and watching reruns of Sex and the City.
My bad.
I guess I'll get dressed and go out.
Have fun.

a good day

Yesterday was a good day. I was kind and patient. I was generous and sweet. He did the vacuming and slept in a bit while I made the tea. I read my book and watched footy and cuddled with the little one-suffering from the sniffles. Under the weather, as she said. We gave each other shoulder rubs. I talked to friends and family. There was a whirlwind swirling around me, a shit storm of anger and sadness and the ending of illusion for some very dear girls. There is another one pending. There is drama and uncertaintiy abounding, but I made sure my home was a place of peace yesterday. A place of sunlight and chocolate and laughter. At least one day!

Away from my peace

I'm in my kitchen, it's 6:45 am. Put the kettle on to make tea for the big girl and myself. Making lunches, tidying up messes. I turn the heat on, the house is cold. My thoughts try to organize themselves, random snippets of ideas and imagined bits of conversation float by as I put away last night's dishes. The little one pads down the hall into the too bright light of the kitchen and I have to scoop her up and tuck her back in, whispering that it's still night time, it's too early. Luckily, she's asleep before I get her back to bed.

Throughout all of this I try to keep my thoughts of him positive. He's late for work and not happy. Not a typical morning, but not an unusual one either. I wait patiently for him to go, for my space to be free of his energy. I am not in a bad mood, I am just not wanting an intrusion onto my morning ritual. It is a ritual I enjoy, in a kitchen that I know like the back of my hand. My movements in it are rehearsed and planned and everything is coreographed for efficiency and production. I resent the muffled swearing and the loud opening and closing of doors. I want the house to be quiet as I work.

I am not sorry for his misery, it is entirely his own and I will not step into it, will not share it with him. I am happy to help, to find an unfound item, to check on the time, but not at the risk of inviting his negativity into my morning. So I continue with the counters and the tea and telling the big girl again that it's time to get up. Soon he is out the door, that is the most important thing, mug and books in hand out into the still dark morning. I leave him to wrestle with his own
intrepetations and grievances. Away from my peace.

And the morning is mine again.

here it comes...the inevitable

I don't even know what I'm doing, I'm just trying to duck so I don't get covered in shit.
It's not my drama, my drama is almost always just my own and not up for public consumption.
But it's hard not to get too smug, too critical-jesus how can you live like that? How can you do that?
What about the children????

One thing I know for sure and the older I get the more I know it. People will do whatever the hell they want and create a justification for it anyhow. They will always be doing what's right. They will always be the good guy. They will twist logic to suit their own messed up needs.
I am no different, no doubt.

I will always be the good guy, the one who is doing right. I will be the one with the justification-even now as an observer, I already am. I am clean,

We've joked that the plantets or something is causing some sort of major upset in the universe right now. But maybe it's just the universe balancing itself out after being out of whack for so long. Maybe that's why. Maybe all this craziness of inter-personal relationships is actually a re-balancing.