He makes me laugh

Of late, T has taken to talking to me more. Whether he is making mock of me, like when we started exercising and he poked me in the belly and said ‘mom you are getting fat too.’ My response was to blame the whole belly thing on him. It was because I carried him for 31 weeks that I am rounded out. He thought that was hilarious. Or when he lets out a really loud fart looks over at me and says ‘mom you might want to move.’ Two seconds before the aroma hits my nose and makes my eyes water.

Yesterday, I was ill. My head didn’t feel right and I was coughing nonstop. I ended up calling in sick and sleeping the whole day. T gets home and we need to run to the store for cat food and drugs so I am able to go to work today. ‘Mom, I have like a really good immune system. I never get sick when you and dad do.’ Now, I have no idea how ill his father has been but I have had a rough year with colds/flus. I look over at him sniffling away, only wanting to go to sleep and crankily tell him it really is all his fault. Him and his grubby little friends all covered in germs. With great disgust he looks over at me and informs me ‘mom my friends and I are not covered in germs. We are clean! We all take baths or showers.’ Not even sure what I can say to that.

On our way to get our hair cut this afternoon I ask the age old question every parent asks, what do you want for supper. T hems and haws and than announces pizza. I am skeptical of this choice because I was sure we had just had it. We finally determined that it was actually last Thursday that I broke down and bought it. T looks at me and states ‘mom if we had pizza the very next day, that would be to soon but it is all good, it is almost a full week later.’ Again how do you argue that?

I love that T is starting to talk to me. Our conversations are wacky and insightful. He doesn’t really believe that I know anything at all, so we tend to spend a lot of time arguing the facts until I pull out the all knowing Google and we google it. We giggle and we laugh, and we enjoy one another’s company during the time that we are together. He will go back to his dad on Sunday and I will miss a full week of laughter and conversations. Until he comes back.

For when he comes back to me, he has a week’s worth of adventures and pent up stories to tell me. He will instruct me and ask me to confirm or deny his facts. And he will most likely pull some numbers out of the air (like 50% of all men will go bald) and I will laugh and argue and giggle and help him to grow. I just hope that I have a few more years of these conversations, before he decides that I am just to uncool to talk to.

Amazing Day

I had a realization today. A rather awesome and fulfilling realization. I am happy and so much more stable than I was a mere eight weeks ago.

I had to work today.

Let me set the scene for you:

A grocery store.

The Saturday after being closed for Good Friday (in Canada Good Friday is a statutory holiday and businesses are closed. Restaurants, gas stations, small convenience stores can be open). As well it is not like there are not thirty million gatherings that are going to take place within the Good Friday to Easter Sunday days. And it isn’t as all those gatherings will not food because everyone will have brought something. And yet, when I opened the doors at 7 a.m. we had a steady stream of customers. At times the line ups were so long and tangled no one knew who was going where. Our customers were awesome, no one complained and we ran.

That being said, let us go back a few hours. I knew today was going to be insane so I had already decided to go into work a little early. Up at 5 at work by 5:40. Which was a good thing because the carts had all been moved from the lobby into the mall which meant I needed to move them back into the lobby. I looked at it shook my head and said to myself:

‘Jay-lyn Anne you can totally rock this.’

And I did.

Eight weeks ago, this would have killed me. I would have spun out, my brain frantically trying to shuffle the hundreds of things that I had to do within my allotted time period. I would have been near tears, while also raging and frothing at the mouth. Instead I looked around, counted the good things that happened this morning. Had an awesome sleep, bounced out of bed, the day was starting off warm and set to get warmer.  I hit all 6 green lights on the way to work and most importantly because I realized how far I have come.

Than my boss and I were talking. And as we walk away in opposite directions I turn around and call him back. Stamped my foot like a bloody pony to emphasize my point (do not even attempt to ask or understand because I don’t) and thanked him. I thanked him for not shunting me to the side and firing me. I thanked him for being brave enough to talk to me without really understanding. And he told me I was doing amazingly well. That staff had been commenting on how much happier I am. I thanked him for that too. And as we parted he said to me you are doing a great job keep it up.

I had customers today tell me that they always see me; moving at top speed and yet I always had a smile on my face and would stop for a chat. And how they appreciated that.

And I had another good thing to add to my list.

I love this feeling. I love having come through the shadows, of having allowed the demons that reside within so much control and I am the one now in control. I have no doubt that there may come a time when I have another depressive episode. But I will have this to look back on and I will know that happiness is possible. And I will fight and I will starve those demons of the fear and self worthlessness that they feed on, so my days become happier sooner.

 

Work in progress

Scritch scratch

said the cats,

watching the little men.

Dribble, drabble

the rabble roared,

watching the crooked shadows.

Bloated, with lust and greed

sucked from the souls of the mired,

languishing in a hell,

passively awaiting their timely fate.

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

April 15/17

Gone

There are truths that you cannot see
Oblivious to what is in front
Seeing only what you want to see
Blinders worn with complacancy.

No questions asked, assumptions only
Pain gathers, tears sparkle
One at a time, falling, trembling
Heartache as I watch you crumble.

Once upon a time, long ago
He rode to the rescue, a handsome knight
The princess awaited, believing with all her heart
That this was it, the happy ending that she wanted.

Gone are the days of grassy glades
Gone, the dreams of yesterday
Forge onward, a path in glass
For nothing was ever real.

April 10/12

Broken Heart

He done broke my heart

the night we said good bye;

he to return to the feudal village,

I to dance across the public’s eye.

“That is not the way to start. It should read, he broke my heart the night we said good bye.”

“Why am I not allowed to write the way that I want to write? Why can I not use the language and speech of my childhood to portray the pictures my words create?”

“Because that is not how I brought you forth! I have taught and molded you to become the top Poetess of all times and you will continue to follow my path.”

“Yet they are my words, my truths why can I not use them they way I see fit?”

“Because you ungrateful wraith, without me you would not have this fame and fortune. Without me you would be back in that village you so long for mired in poverty.”

I lifted my head, greasy hair falling back, revealing pallid skin and blackened sleep deprived eyes. He loomed over top of me, pristine and put together. His suit a navy blue so dark it bordered on black, a piping red tie, winking tie pin, he was everything I had loved and now loathed.

He rested his large hands on the desk, leaning forward, the pungent aroma of his cologne overwhelming me. Citrus notes interspersed with undernotes of vanilla and sandalwood. I could smell my own stench, a mimosa of unwashed body and hair, the perspiration I sweat to come up with my creations. I was not the lovely Poetess revered in inner circles, I was the poet in a small cell, my emotions and anguish how I create.

The thick chains of dependency wound around my wrists, shackling my legs to the desk. Illusionary, yet they retained me as much as real chains would. I was caught in a web of my own making. But there was a choice, one that I had to make.

“It is time for you to leave,” I breathed. “Time for you to take your life and unentwine it from mine.”

“I am your King, your Maker,” he roared. “You will not take from me what I have worked for.”

“You have worked nothing, nothing that I already did not know. You wiped the ashes of childhood away and lead me along the path to stray,” I seethed. “You never meant for me to be this welcome, this loved, but plans have a way of changing and now the time has come.”

I glared up at him, daring a rebuke. Never had I spoken to him in such a way. His nostrils flared with unrequited rage. His body shook with the repressed desire to make me behave. He had lost and he knew it.

I felt my heart break in two

with the soft snick of the lock catching as the door closed;

He who had brought me up, who taught me polish and truth

my betrayer, my warden, a man of circumstance.

And you say I am embarrassing?

When T was little, well littler than he is now and at 8 he is fast becoming not so little, he use to do things that I found to be rather embarrassing. Yelling in the store that he had to poop or giggling like a maniac because he just farted. All the things that little boys do to turn their mother’s faces red and wishing that the floor would open up and suck you into the depths. Let someone else claim this child as their monster.

Fast forward to a time when he is not even a teenager yet and the tables have turned.

I suppose that I could have kept quiet about this incident. However it is a cute story and the truth is it is just as embarrassing for me as it is for T.  For it either means that I have ears that are full of wax despite my cleaning them all the time or I am going deaf. In this instance I would hope deafness would account for this misunderstanding.

On Tuesday T had to go to his dad’s because our sitter had a funeral. I was able to leave work a half hour early otherwise the drive to and from his dad’s takes 40 minutes and we would not have been home until close to 7 p.m.  As we are driving along T is full of energy and happy yammering away to me about school and the things he learned when all of a sudden out of the blue I hear:

‘Mom I know what causes the most animal sex.’

I am on the highway doing 100 kms and I cannot take my eyes from the road. But I am slightly horrified as although we have discussed sex and baby making in humans in a general way, we have not discusses animal sex. Nor am I about to.  I glance over at him out of the corner of my eye and he seems to be not traumatized or disgusted but pleased with himself.

‘Buddy what did you just say?’

‘I know what causes the most animal sex!’

Now I am really flustered.

‘You know what causes the most animal sex?’

He looks over at me his eyes big and round. A look of absolute disgust on his face as though he cannot believe that I would dare to say this to him. Hello, this is your mother here I always am hearing things wrong!

‘Mom,  I said, I know what causes the most accidents!’

The two of us than shared a maniacal giggle as only mother and son can. We are strange ducks and admit it. And T is a great makerer upper of facts. In the summer he and mom had packed up my sandals so I wore my slippers to drive in. He informed me that 75% of all accidents (not animal sex) are caused by people who are wearing their slippers to drive. It sounded good, he could have fooled anyone with that one.

Just an FYI the following list is the cause of most accidents according to T:

  1. Drinking
  2. Texting
  3. Bad Brakes
  4. Deer
  5. Ice on the road.

Needless to say, he is brighter than I was at age 8. I was only concerned with dolls and books. Never had a concern about what was real. I lived in a world of fantasy and play. T while he does play cars and Minecraft and other video games, is a realist. And I am okay with that, we compliment each other. However, I really wish he would quit making up facts that sound real so I don’t look like a dumb ass when I repeat them.

Babe

You tease me and you taunt me, you call me babe

you know that it makes me melt.

I adore your desire for me, your lust

because I share the same.

Wrapped in your arms, pressed against the wall

desire, it floods my body, and I cannot even compare,

I cannot even decipher, all I know is how I need you

how I lust for you, day after day.

Whisper my name, tame my heart, my desire

you know how to make me crawl and beg

I want to be wrapped in your comfort

to know that you really do care.

Tell me I am not a booty call

even if I am……

Allow me the fantasy…..the belief that I am special

wrap me in your arms,

love me in our own fashion,

please don’t make me crawl.