Archive for the ‘Co-habitating’ Category

Spoiled, and I should be

I’ve been pretty sick, after what seemed to be a mild cold, it got bad for a few days.

With the coughing, I was keeping J awake… so sadly, he was happy to sleep on the couch so he can get a full night’s sleep and I don’t have to stress about holding in the cough.

After going through a busier than ever 5 days, and feeling sicker as the days went on, the other day I woke up to pouring rain and my cough nearly gone.

J came in to the room and said “Stay in bed. I’ll take care of things.”

He’d already been walking the girls to school and picking them up for me the entire week, but this one day was the first in a week that we had nothing planned and nowhere to go.

It was my recuperation day.

I watched the rest of the Glee episodes I hadn’t seen yet, on

I drank some very green juice three times a day, made by J.

I slept.

I watched Oprah.

And now, aside from a tiny cough, here and there, I am healed.

Friday night, we decided to go see New Moon, because we’d seen Twilight on Netflix and liked it alot. (it took us two nights to watch it though, cause we kept falling asleep).

So, if you’ve seen it, I guess most people’s responses has been “LOVED IT!” and some say “it dragged”.

I’ll give you a hint of what we thought, J was a little more “verbal” about it.

Through the second half of the movie, he kept rolling his head around, looking over at me, and making loud snoring noises.

Yeah, fun.

I got to spend two hours in a movie theatre  (freezing my ass off, by the way, why don’t theaters turn on their heat? I am paying $10.50 for a movie, at least give me some warmth!) with vampires and werewolves and putting up with J’s “crazy”.



(a painting by me)

I find sometimes I don’t do enough breathing, the good kind that brings in fresh air and exhaling it all, like a momentary cleansing.

We’ve been pretty busy with the stuff for the potential piano bar, add that to my two kids having birthdays right before Thanksgiving and right before Christmas, well, it’s sheer craziness.

The other night, after more bank meetings, broker meetings, grocery shopping and a doctor appointment, we spent the evening relaxing with some wine WHILE doing more work on our laptops.

We were in bed at midnight, the lights were out, and J turned over to say something, I was thinking he might wanna “get busy”, but he sighed and goes, “You know, I can’t remember if I showered today.”

And he lay there trying to muster up the energy to get up and take one, just in case, and we both fell asleep.

Anyway, I have been sick. Not mega sick, but the lingering, mild annoying cold/cough kind of sick. I loooove going to bed with tea and the humidifier going beside me because it gives relief. J has been rubbing my back until I fall asleep…I wake up okay but by the end of the day I have fallen again, it seems.

I was getting by better by Wednesday and then had a kind of busy-ish day on Thursday and that night felt like hell.

Friday I put in a ten hour day at an art show, that sucked.

The art show sucked, it sucked as badly as the one two week prior…one of those artisan fair things…I will tell you, few folks are buying lots of stuff this year (but we already know that).

Damn economy.

We spent Saturday meeting with our restaurant broker, the sellers of the restaurant, out to lunch with the kids and then to a holiday party, outside, IN THE RAIN.

Yeah, I know, stupid me with a cough, in the rain.

The, today, I drove to Cambridge and had another all day show.

(here’s another painting)

I won’t go into too much detail other than, “Damn economy.”

Fortunately for regular customers who have commissioned me or shopped online for work, it has helped a bit, but certainly, the fine arts side of things isn’t thriving. But, ya know what everyone’s getting for Christmas this year…

Anyway, I am done now with the holiday work, aside from pending commissions and last minute orders.

…and another by me…

We’re a week or so away from signing and purchase and sale on our restaurant.

The bank is excited and wrapping up our loan this weekend, according to the SBA.

I can’t stop coughing, and keep thinking how when/if we run a restaurant, I will need some serious medication if I get a cold and cough like this because I can’t cough and make, serve or even be near food and patrons. I will need some serious drugs, right off the bat (as opposed to this holistic measure sort of thing with tea and vegetable juice and sleep)

Although it seem so close and real, the deal could fall through at any moment, due to the appraisal or something wonky like the restaurant nearly falling into the river or something (yes, the restaurant is ON a river).

We shrug our shoulders and find that we are either going to be doing this, changing our lives forever and changing the fate of our family as we know it (all for good!), or we will sleep many more nights without anxiety of putting all our eggs in a basket.

All I have to do now, is remember to keep breathing.

It all seems like so much, so much excitement, so much change, so much…so much…

In the light minority, Happy Thanksgiving…

(picture from our Thanksgiving morning breakfast at our inn, more further in the post)

I’m in the minority in our town for putting up lights. Just last week, I was driving in the dark evening of 4:00 and noticed all the lights, Santas (you know, the big blow up lit up kind) and even a few trees.

I REFUSE to decorate until at least after Thanksgiving Day.

But, ahem, I did just download Christmas music to my ipod. Yeah. Who can pass up some Olivia Newton John at a time like this?

This year the girls are gone for the full four days and J and I drove with the masses up North (can we say “traffic”?) to see his family.

I was the only person out of the 12 that were at his sister’s house for Thanksgiving dinner, who was not groaning about how full they were. I had one modest plate. I had two glasses of wine. I ate one extra roll. Three hours later, I had a piece of lemon meringue pie and my own cranberry steamed pudding (ahem, with brown butter sauce).

This is where I write in what I am thankful for. In essence, I am thankful for the life we are living. I give endless thanks for the ability to see that things work out how they are meant to be, even if they are hard…I think often about how last year at this time, J had just left to play piano out of the country for seven months.

I remember how fucking hard it was.

Without that, I possibly wouldn’t be so appreciative and thrilled that he is lying here next to me napping in the middle of the afternoon, snoring like a train.

The blessings in our family sit steadfast.

I was thinking just now, about last Monday, how after school, the girls and I ended up eating breakfast in my bed for dinner and watching “Little Women”.  We finished it off with pudding, during which, I threatened to never allow eating in bed again if it ended up on my white 1000 count sheets.

Let’s just say they went at it like superstars and the sheets stayed clean.

I’m glad for moments like those, especially when I can look back on weekends like these that I spend without my kids. I know they are well cared for by their dad, but I feel like they always belong here with me, and maybe the reason is because they came directly out of me…or maybe because I am just so used to them needing me, I am not so sure what the hell to do with myself when I stop long enough to think about what’s missing.

Regardless, it was a great few days, J and I spent some time on a lake up north in an inn that was to die for.

This is where we stayed for three nights.

We had time with his family, but most of our time was spent alone, together, by the fire, overlooking the lake.

There was endless tea and coffee, episodes of “Glee” on the laptops, a bar downstairs for hot toddy’s, Thai food down the street, a hot tub, a feather bed that makes you want to never get out of bed and rain coming down reminding you that you really don’t have to go anywhere you don’t want to, for three whole days.

I’d say in bed first thing in the morning (due to the feather bed thing) with coffee while J stretched out on the deck in his boxers.

And we basically did not much but relax and work on our laptops in order to get ready for the next stage of our piano bar planning.

Which I will update you with once it happens. (2-8 weeks…yeah, I know, the waiting is killing us)

On the last night, I wanted a bath. The drain had stopped plugging up, so the tub wouldn’t fill.

I’d given up and was getting ready for a shower when J came out out of the bathroom to tell me my bath was filling up…

He’d “McGuyvered” (a verb in our household) the plug for me.

Even better, it actually worked.

mingling our stuff


I was fortunate that when J moved in, he didn’t bring a bunch of bachelor pad furniture and junk that the stereotypical bachelor man might be carting around. Fortunately for me, it was alot of manly tools that can hang out in the basement and some really cool music and computer equipment, keyboards and guitars and drum machines.

He also brought a hell of alot of clothes. Much more than I own.

But I reaped the benefits of his big comfy man bathrobes, similar to the coveted ones in nice hotels. He’s got a few of them and they have been hanging on our door for the last six months, enough for us each to have one and similar enough that it doesn’t matter which one we grab to put on.

I was thinking about what we each bring to the table here in our house. We each bring patience at different times when the girls are behaving crazy. If I am not being patient, it is likely he is, and vice versa. It enables us to each have a break when we need it.

Last week I was moving slow, we’ve been working daily to finish up negotiating for our piano bar. We’re still unsure of this one will happen in the end, but we’re taking it one step at a time. We’re in FINAL negotiations tomorrow with the sellers and then are finishing up the rest of our financing.

Talk about a literal pain in my neck.

Apparently, I carry the stress right there and I’m moving around very slowly.

At any rate, on Thursday, at 7am, the girls were up for school, and J woke me up briefly and told me to stay in bed and he would take care of things.

When I re-awoke at nine, they had been fed, their lunches had been packed and they’d been delivered to school.

I realized how this is a first in my life, to have a partner willing to and available to take over when I need it. And it’s the first time I have trusted it.

So I sit here in one of the robes that he brought when he moved in and he’s sitting across the room in the big easy chair drinking the cappuccino I make for him every morning. The kids are watching Sunday morning television and eating cream of wheat, (something he taught them to love).

And I can’t believe he’s been home for six months and we are where we are.

Name Calling

J is refinancing his house in Texas and the last thing to do was to file his taxes, since he filed an extension due to being out of the country in April.

We were just told by our mortgage guy that he had to either mail it in and wait a few weeks for confirmation before they could let the refinance go through, or we could just go to a local irs office, give them the goods and the check and have them stamp a copy for us for the underwriter.

So today, we drove 40 minutes to the closest IRS office.

They close from 1-2 for lunch and we got there at 12:30.

We had to take a number and waited until 12:50 for our number to come up.

When it did, the snarky IRS guy behind the desk told J, “we are closing for lunch.”

And J said, “the internet as well as the sign on the front door says you are closed from one to two for lunch, it’s ten til right now and we’ve been waiting since 12:30.”

Snarky IRS man told him he was working on something at his desk and wouldn’t be able to help him until after lunch, at 2:00.

J explained that we drove from far away and had to go before two so we could pick up children from school.

Snarky IRS man didn’t seem to care and told J to come back another time.

Now, I am not an advocate of name calling or confrontation, but by the time we walked out of there, J had called the guy an asshole, oh, about a half dozen times.

I think the guy totally deserved it.

I listened to the whole thing and totally agree. I was appalled that the guy was so unhelpful and wouldn’t just take care of a customer. I was also slightly appalled (but proud) that J spoke that way to the guys’ face.

But then, it was the IRS, right? They don’t make things easy.

Unfortunately, J still needs to file his taxes and it means he drives alot further to get them filed at a different IRS office, he has to file online and wait a few weeks, or he has to go back to asshole snarky man and hope he gets waited on.

Right now, he is off on his bike, cooling down from a very stressful day. His car broke down for the final time two weeks ago and because I had jury duty on Monday and needed my car, couldn’t get up north for his Monday night gig. We spent most of the morning chasing down a few cars we found listed online that he was interested in, and after a wild goose chase between uncommunicative dealers, found neither of them.

We accomplished very little today other than putting miles on my car, eating a really good steak and cheese sub, test driving a couple really crappy cars that were NOT what we thought they were, and J called the IRS man an asshole, many times.

I’ll be picking the girls up soon from school and considering pancakes and bacon for their dinner since I didn’t make it to the market and the fridge is fairly empty.

After they go to bed, we’ll be cracking the bottle of wine.

What to call him

I was sparked  by something I read on Memoirs of a Single Mom about calling the man she is seeing her “boyfriend” at a party, for the first time.

It made me smile because the first time I heard J call me his girlfriend, he actually introduced me as his “girl”.

Funny enough, I love it, he says that at age 47, the term “girlfriend” seems immature.

But I joke, “it makes me sound like your servant.”

And funny enough, I tend to call him my “guy”.

On the girls’ emergency form papers from school that we have to update every year, there was a space to add J as someone they can call in the event of an emergency, mainly because he lives with us and we also live two blocks away from the school.  I also added him as someone who can check them out of school and pick them up, especially knowing I am up for jury duty on Monday (gah) which kind of fouls up our schedule.

At any rate, on the form to sign him up for “able to call in an emergency and allowed to pick them up from school when I cannot” priviledges, I was faced with filling in the space that said “what is this person’s relationship to the child?”

I showed it to him and joked, “do you think I should just write in, ‘my mommy’s boyfriend'”?

In the end, I wrote “stepdad”, because that has been the role has has fallen into so graciously, immediately, respectfully and with so much love on both the giving and receiving end.

We may not be married, but as he says, “it’s like we’re married, but we’re not.”

Our week


Blue said, upon inspecting her belly button the other night, “My belly button, it looks like two butt cheeks.”

It was the first day of school Tuesday, and Monday, the girls came home  after ten days with their dad and I had a nice surprise. (strangely, the font has changed here and I can’t seem to figure out why,  nor can I fix it, SO sorry, it appears I am yelling here, but I’m not)

The surprise was that in ten days, they never brushed their hair.

So you can imagine all the knots and tangles, in fact, Blue nearly has dreadlocks.

Seriously people.

I should invest in hair conditioner, because I used an entire bottle in two days.

At any rate, they were very excited to wear a new outfit, pack their school supplies and see their friends. Miraculously, we rarely got together with friends over the summer (I needed a break from the mom groups, especially), so now, it’s a novelty for them to be back in school.

Red came home from school that first day and shrieked, “I LOVE THIRD GRADE!” and Blue, moseyed around and  said, “First grade is JUST like Kindergarten.”

There is still the damn boil order.

We use mostly bottled water but I boil water to hand wash the dishes that can’t go in the dishwasher.

They called in the EPA.

Maybe something will get fixed eh, or at least a state of emergency so they’ll give us market coupons for all the water we are buying.

A few days ago, the kids were in school and J and I were working around the house and paying bills and just, well, “getting stuff done”. We looked outside and realized it was gorgeous out so decided to pack lunch and ride our bikes down to the beach and hang out for a bit.

Crazy J, who doesn’t seem to feel the cold in the water for some reason, dove in and did some swimming. I stood at the water’s edge, my feet in, up to my ankles and my arms wrapped around my chest, showing him how cold I thought it was.

He made a motion with his hands. He mouthed some instructions from the waves, while I stood facing him, yards and yards away, on the shore.

I looked behind me. I looked to my left. I looked to my right.

And then I flashed him.

Yes, I pulled up my bikini top ever so quickly.

I think he thought I wouldn’t do it.