Sunday, April 15, 2012
luckily there is laughter
After I wrote this post I was a solemn, quiet lobster-girl. I tried to hide the tears from the rest of the family as I was at the homestead hanging out with the gang after a failed attempt at a rainy day wander. Mr. a-go-go however saw, knew and would simply walk by and squeeze. He knew that if he asked anything or acted any kinder I would be hiccuping snotty tears like a toddler who scraped her knees on the cold cement. After I had packed up all the gear and we were on the car, he gave my hand a squeeze and we talked. He's so good, that guy. I know it kills him just as much as it kills me but he doesn't give in to the wallow. That actually worries me a bit, he bottles up so much and he rarely explodes though he does get moody and golly, those days are quit unpleasant but we move through them gracing each other space with the occasional arm pat, gentle hug or lovely look.
We do talk about adoption. But because we are the kind of thinkers we are, we think it is a little too late for us. Not in an "oh poor us" kind of way more like we have settled into out small shared life doing our small shared things. Children are an enormous responsibility and we would be up to the task with all of its enormity in the ways you need to be there and with the love you have to share but the practical matter is that we are on the lower end of the moolah spectrum, fancy college degrees and all. There is a trade of to the life you wish to live and we are lucky, quite lucky to live our "almost" life. We have chosen to live in a town with less opportunity than the great big Los Angeles. Chosen to be closer to family and in the middle of this great big beautiful space. We have chosen our work based on locality and hours. I make very little but get to work with children and a handful of wonderful teachers in a lovely school biking/walking distance (which I still need to walk) from the casa. The mister gets to cram his forty hours into four days giving him an extra day off and he gets to bike to work as well, which he does, every day unless it is raining. Neither job offers health insurance and it took us more than a year to find something for me that was semi-affordable (I was rejected from four different insurance companies due to infertility, menopause and asthma, two of those things can be attributed to the DES) so now any chance of socking away a wee bit o cash is now sucked up by insurance but now the mister can breathe easier since I can breathe easier and it's all a matter of personal priorities.
We live small. We eat out maybe one a week and even then it is to share a plate. We don't go out to movies or shows mostly because movies are too expensive and we are awkward and anti-social and well...old fuddies. I haven't purchased any new fabric or crafting supplies other than glue and such and any new clothing other than jeans (and one trip to Penneys and maybe a Target or Old Navy run...or two...) comes from the thrifts. I desperately need new shoes, the kind that are cute, fit and will last. I know these will cost a pretty penny but that is okay since it is important. We spend our days puttering about, working on projects, talking, laughing, arguing, playing the ukes and watching bad B-movies on Netflix. We aren't quite settled into this space as what we had in L.A. is not here as far as home goes but what we have here is family, the ocean, the mountains, the quiet and each other. We'll figure out a garden space and a home someday, I hope sooner than later. I really miss our garden. I really miss our friends and yet I still feel a bit more heart settled here than down there.
I want to thank you for your comments on the post that had me spiraling. I will be responding individually now that blogger has a reply button. I do like a reply button. Soon, I will make my sad sack and angry fits of pepper lemonade public. Soon. I think I need to share the hurt, share the anger. I am in need of an upswing, I can't spend my time being sadder than sad. I can only allow the wallow to hit, to wrap myself up in it until it becomes too warm so that I can shrug it off and head to happier places. Thank goodness for happier places, for laughter and for friends both in person and online. We need to share more often...it keeps us connected. At least it keeps me connected so that I don't feel so alone.