chukichi

this thing is still about things

Category Archives: life

This. Fucking. Week. — Part One

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The week of September 23, at least.  THAT. Fucking. Week.  Maybe by the time I post this all of my injuries, physical and emotional, will be healed.  Not likely, but maybe.  The week started out with so much hope and potential—Robin’s TENTH birthday was Thursday, but Monday was also an incredibly significant and exciting day:  The Mr. moved into his new office space! 

He’s been self employed for two years now and overall it has been wonderful.  One of our biggest family issues was his overwork and absence so just being present in the home made a huge positive difference.  It absolutely eliminated some problems while simultaneously introducing new problems because that’s literally how life works.  Now, working at home wasn’t some magic bullet that made our family happily ever after, but it improved the quality of our lives exponentially.  Businesses can only grow and thrive so much out of a home office; happily, he’s outgrown being at home full time and has officially leased a great little office in conjunction with another established professional.

While all that was cause for celebration, Monday was going be my ‘get-shit-together’ day:  clean up the classroom, run birthday errands, clean the house up, etc.  Also on my schedule was making our dinner for equinox (as opposed to giving in to my inherent lazy desires and ordering take out) and baking some cakes in preparation for the Big Ten birthday on Thursday.  By 10 AM, I had a text from the Mr. asking me to pick up some things for him from Home Depot which was actually a welcome distraction and an option for the kids and me to see the office for the first time.

Well, that errand turned into a FIVE HOUR ORDEAL.  No, I wasn’t being cattle-prodded or anything like that, but…I have this condition that makes it damn near impossible for me to stop helping others right in the middle of a project.  Especially if it gives me an excuse to procrastinate on my own overwhelming mountain of a task list.  I hate this aspect of myself and if I don’t keep in in check it makes me a resentful garbage pile which is only exacerbated by the fact that I am volunteering.   Here’s how this part of the day went down:

  • go to Home Depot for a power strip and surge protector
  • Home Depot does not have the requested surge protector (as recommended by our IT guy). Drive a quarter of the way to his office when he finally gets back to me and tells me it’s at Lowes.
  • Turn around, go to Lowes.  In the aisle literally labeled SURGE PROTECTORS there are none of that brand or even that style.  Ask an employee if there are surge protectors anywhere in the store other than the surge protector aisle.  NO.
  • go to the office.  Yay new office!  Further research mythological surge protector and find out it’s in aisle 15, not in aisle 6 labeled SURGE PROTECTORS.  Make extensive list of additional needs from Lowes and set out again.
  • back at Lowes, aisle 15 is full of plastic storage containers and trash cans which is great because I needed a trash can but still no elusive surge protector.  Find help; turns out surge protectors are in the TV accessories aisle, aisle 11.
  • one small mortgage payment later, return to the Mr.’s office to lay on the floor to help with electronics installation.  It’s hot and stuffy because the doors are closed.  The doors are closed because the office mates have a gentle giant bulldog mix that wanted to be under the desk with me and I am not into that.
  • a fan and lunch are desperately needed.  Went home to start laundry, start dinner, take fan from bedroom instead of buying one as that would take too long.  Pick up lunch and deliver food and a fan; eat and go home by three-ish.

Phew!  What a day!

So, finally at home and have just enough time to wash Josh’s TKD uniform and gear and make equinox dinner.  No big deal.  I have about two hours.  I got this, I thought, which is an incredibly stupid thought.  I got nothing.  I have never in the history of ever gotten anything so maybe I was having heat stroke or low blood sugar or an out of body experience.

Things could have been gotten…except that there was a load of clothes in the washer that needed to be re-washed.  We have a new fancy washing machine (our old workhorse died after 17 years!) and it’s extremely efficient in spinning the clothes and basically pre-drying them before putting them in the dryer.  This is wonderful except when I don’t swap clothes out immediately and it gets The Smell.  You know what I mean.  Clean, yes, but with that low undertone of mildew.  The Smell of one minute too long of a delay and The Smell of wasted water, energy, and most importantly, time.  The Smell.

So a load takes about an hour to wash, about 40 minutes to dry (thanks to that super extreme spin cycle).  As I walked back into the kitchen, I realized I needed to put a bottle of mead into the fridge if I wanted to have it with dinner.  I pulled out a bottle from a low cabinet and immediately slow-motion-dropped it on my foot.

I dropped a full wine bottle approximately three and a half feet onto the bones of my left foot.  Specifically, the first long bone connecting to my big toe, a.k.a.: first metatarsal.  My scream brought a crowd of concerned children while also scattering a variety of indoor and outdoor animals.  I refused to take off my sock to inspect my injury because compression stocks are too much of a pain to take off and put on so I substituted cussing and hobbling around while I prepared the pork roast.

It was then that I realized the pork that I was preparing was rancid because of course it was.

Another trip to Kroger, a clean uniform fresh out of the dryer 30 minutes before the start of class, and the day from hell ended with many things accomplished but so many MORE things unfinished.  I did not fully inspect my foot until after dinner for a few reasons, all of which were fairly childish.  Basically, it boiled down to the idea that I didn’t have time for that shit and if I could walk I could ignore it for just a little while more.  A glass of mead and a thousand ibuprofen afterwards, I finally peeled off my sock.  I determined that the bone wasn’t broken as I could still move my toes without blacking out but could have a hairline crack or something.  Walking wasn’t terrible, but stairs were total bullshit.  Shoes were borderline intolerable but obviously I was wearing shoes and running around like a crazy person for the entire week.  As of today (Saturday the 28th) the knot is smaller but still there and I’m subjected to a constant sharp/burning pain and even I’m tired of my own complaints.  7:30 AM found me rubbing Tiger Balm on the spot and then groggily wiping MY FUCKING EYES so sufficed to say I am, if anything, consistent.

And that was only day one of that week.  Ugh.

That Filler Entry

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What is the word…when you get so overwhelmed you just freeze up?  Like, jammed, but not.  Why do I think it starts with a C?  Used with machinery?

Anyway, my brain is stuck and I don’t know the word that I’m trying to use.  I have, in the last 10 years or so, come to understand that it’s anxiety that leads me to make lists and over plan.  Do you do this?  I do this.  A LOT.

Now, making lists means literally nothing in relation to completing anything on said lists.  But sometimes it’s nice to see that is going on in my brain in a semi-ordered manner, even if it’s temporary.  Every once in a while, I’ll realize that once it’s all written out, there isn’t as much there as I originally thought.  Unfortunately, more often than not, I find that there is so much more going on that I wasn’t even thinking about.

Maybe list making is a bad idea.  Or the best idea ever.

Pressing matters

Saturday, in the Park…ing lot

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I am sitting in my car at 8:34 AM—cigarette lighter fan going, ice cold Diet Cokes within reach, listening to Spotify, typing on my laptop on a desk that attaches to my steering wheel…  What a time to be alive!

Why yes, my car *is* dirty.

Now, I’m not sitting in a random parking lot like a creep; I’m sitting in the parking lot of a local middle school like a weirdo.  My Saturdays for the next 3-4 months will be occupied with taking Josh to his Korean language class.  Yeah…Korean.

NewsflashI’m not Korean.

Neither is my husband nor are either of my children.  I am a firm believer that kids learn better when they actually want to because I’m one of those kinds of hippy nerds.  You know, the correct kind.  Of course, he was completely uninterested in my 5 years of high school and college Spanish that I’ve completely forgotten.  Japanese was briefly considered which would have been awesome, but he is, if anything, a practical old man in a young man’s body and chose Korean based on his 6 years of tae kwon do.  He has a variety of instructors that are fluent and excited to help him practice and he also reasons that if he ever has the opportunity to study at Kukkiwon, he should probably know how to communicate.

I’m almost 4 times his age and he has his shit together better than I do.  Fucking hell.

So that decision lead us to the Korean language program recommended by his Grandmaster taekwondo instructor.   It’s the same school that his own children attended so you can’t really get a better recommendation than that.  Every Saturday we leave the house by 8 AM so we can eat breakfast and make it to class by 8:45; class ends at 12:15 PM.  We study daily throughout the week and when I say “we”, I mean I observe that he does his homework and studying and sporadically suggest he watch a YouTube video to check pronunciation.  I was able to highlight some words in a Korean-English dictionary for him.  I’m helping.

This class started on August 10 which just so happened to overlap with his tae kwon do black belt ceremony.  See?  So much has happened since I last blogged for real!  He tested in May of this year and the weeks leading up to his exam involved extra classes throughout the week and double classes on Monday nights.  It was also expensive, at least, what we consider expensive.  It was practically spit-take expensive, but completely worthwhile and necessary.  Could you imagine how shitty that would have been to say no to such a milestone?  Hey, I know you spent *literally* half of your life working up to this, but I’m going to take this opportunity to stop supporting your goals.

Oh my fried chicken!

The hardest part was waiting for the official confirmation that he would be promoted—all test results are sent to Korea and reviewed and approved at Kukkiwon which took about 8 weeks.  His first day of Korean language class was cut short so we could attend his black belt ceremony where I cried for LITERALLY the entire time.  I’M CRYING RIGHT NOW BECAUSE THAT’S MY KIND OF PROUD MOM CRAZY BULLSHIT.

I know that it might seem weird to just sit outside for three and a half hours, but I’m about 40 minutes away from home based on traffic so it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to drive him here, drop him off, go home for an hour or so, come pick him up, go back home.  It just feels wasteful for both time and gas.  There is a Sam’s Club right down the street, and an H-Mart not far from that, so at least when I need to shop, it’s convenient.  I’ve been spending most of my time doing lesson plans and research but now, I’m trying to use at least part of this block of time for Me whether it be writing, working on some perpetually unfinished craft project, or simply napping.  Honestly, at first I felt a bit like a martyr for “selflessly” sacrificing my Saturday mornings for my offspring but that mindset was, at least for me, true mommy blogger virtue signaling bullshit.  I fucking chose this, happily and freely.  I don’t have brat kids that beg or guilt me; in fact, quite the opposite.  Josh spent quite some time really considering what he wanted to do–tae kwon do 3 days a week, swim two days a week and now this class for the entirety of his Saturday morning.  He purposefully declined joining the demo team at TKD so that he could focus on what was already on this plate.

If you’re unaware, a demo team is exactly what it sounds like:  a group that demonstrates all of the cool, choreographed showy moves.  We went to a local tournament this year to support some of his classmates and ever since he hasn’t stopped talking about how his school should re-start their demo team so he could join.  Sure enough, they decided to re-form and he was really torn.  Demo team would have meant one more evening in class for a total of EVERY NIGHT OF THE WEEK doing something.  He made his decision based on my boundaries, his own time restrictions, and how it would impact his family, not just himself.  Again, what even is this child!

Luckily, I don’t have to worry about Robin wanting to learn Korean—as of right now, she says she wants to learn Italian so she can understand musical terminology better.  GREAT.