the silence of denial
It's been a horrifying week, and an equally awful weekend. Let me just say that no one is dead, no one is injured, and no one (else) is divorced. There were no occult occurrences and no natural disasters wreaking a preternatural vengeance on those I love. I have suffered no financial losses. I have broken no bones, no vows and no resolutions. So?
It's the gaw-damned kids, of course. On Tuesday a kid made a comment about shooting up my church. On Wednesday another kid called me ignorant and refused to go to the office when directed (VP's had to come and escort him out). That same day, that same class, another kid tried to intimidate me for no fixed reason. I've had 2 bus cancellation days in a row, but have had to show up & teach on both because we're not a bussed school. On Tuesday I took a projector to my chalet and now it can't be reconnected to the school equipment.
I've had a headache for most of the time since I wrote last. Water leaked into my boots on Friday and turned my feet into red, sore, painful trials.
This weekend the Boy & I had a cataclysmic argument that went 30 hours before resolution was reached. Most of my Saturday was spent crying, questioning and waiting in frozen silence. Today the Boy has napped for more than 4 ½ hours and the Blake is on target to go to bed sometime tomorrow morning. I've ripped up a sock twice in 24 hours.
There have only been a few good things in the past few days:
- lots of office support and concern helping me with my fringe elements
- I made a really good ginger pear cake for yesterday's church potluck, which almost no one ate, thus lots of leftovers
- reconciliation with the Boy
- Blake getting all makey-outy with a 1 year old boy at church this morning
- I did some of the homework I set for myself this weekend
- Blake's adventures in the front yard, in which he scrabbles around the heaps of frozen snowbanks in his snowpants while his dad & I sing "the Blake went over the mountain to see what he could see" repeatedly and stomp around to keep warm. And giggle.
- the sight of Blake sleeping on his Daddy's sleeping chest, which always slays me (no matter how inconveniently timed the nap)
- my wiki article on Knitty was saved from the oblivion of lack of notability
- I took out "The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen" from the library and I love it
- the news that there will be an 8th Buffy season (maybe you knew this already, but remember that I live in a basement)
- Blake's foray into naked crochet
Labels: angst, bat masterson, blake, the boy
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Don't make me send out the Blake. He doesn't listen to *anyone.*