Lily lied to me last night about something so stupid I wasn't sure how big of a deal to make out of it but after a few minutes of deep, what a big fat liar mouth thought, I decided that any lie, big or small is something that should be dealt with immediately and not tolerated. What if the little lies snowballed and someday led to her being the focus of a Wall Street scandal? Eventually the media would uncover the fact that her Mother never dealt with the issue of the missing duct tape in 4th grade and my inability to deal with conflicts would surface to shame me, again. So I tightened the terry cloth belt on my robe and went in like a trial lawyer demanding to know the facts.

It's ironic that duct tape is the source of yet another conversation in my life. A few weeks ago we began treating the wart on Lily's big toe with duct tape as instructed by the Pediatrician. I guess I didn't keep it on long enough because it grew back, uglier than before, and we had to start the process all over again.

I saw Lily with the tape in her hand yesterday morning and just assumed that she was putting a piece of it on her toe. When she came home from school she had on three black duct tape bracelets. She said her friend Violet made them for her. I asked if she made any and she said no. So, we're getting ready for bed and I need to wrap the wart and can't find the duct tape. I told her to come help me find it because she had it in her hand in the morning and now I can't find it. I asked again if she brought it to school to make bracelets and she said no. Unconvincingly. I knew she was going down. I told her that if she wasn't telling the truth, now would be a good time to come clean because I will drive to school in the morning and look in her desk. The horror of the mental image she must have had of me digging through her desk and finding the tape was obvious on her face and she said "It might have accidentally got put in my back and then accidentally put in my desk." My response was, "You accidentally do things like stub your toe or drive to work with your coffee cup on top of the car. You don't accidentally put a large roll of black duct tape in your backpack and then unload it into your desk. Go upstairs and sit on the bed until I get there." I needed those few moments to decide whether or not to make an enormous crime out of this or heat up my tea and crawl into bed with my book which is what I was looking forward to all night. I went with enormous crime and this is the part where I tightened the belt on my robe and assumed the role of a prosecuting attorney. I added some stomping up the stairs for effect. The inquisition only took 45 seconds to get her to admit that she did indeed make a bracelet. There was apparently a whole crew of duct tape thieves out there making goth like jewelery. I wanted to pinch her really hard for lying to me, especially about something so stupid, but I refrained from physical abuse and laid on the guilt instead. Thick. Tears were flowing. Promises were made.
I believe that I just spared the world one big fat liar mouth criminal in the years to come.

I picked up the phone several times to call Joe and tell him about it but put it back down each time knowing that I would retell the tale and not get much of a response and it's probably better that I learn how to deal with these things myself now. Putting the phone down definitely must be a sign of moving on. Isn't it?

Thursday, October 8, 2009

How is it possible to feel as tired this morning as I did going to sleep last night? Isn't that theory on sleep, that you are supposed to wake up feeling refreshed in the morning?

I woke up and laid in bed for 30 minutes, staring at the ceiling, thinking of reasons why I should be entitled to stay home. Really, what I should have done was use that 30 minutes to pour myself a cup of coffee and lovingly pack Lily's lunch bag and make her a hot breakfast because the reality is that it's only October. I have two vacation days left and get letters home from school every other day preparing us for the impending doom of the swine flu. And if the H1N1 flu doesn't kill us the unpaid time off of work will so I got up and assumed the role of drill sargeant to see to it that we make it to the end of the driveway on time to catch the school bus.

Ten years ago I thought that I wanted at least 3 kids, two dogs and a fulfilling career. Ten years ago I thought that I would always have a husband waiting with me at the end of the driveway for the bus to come and give me a coffee breath kiss before we both drove off for the day. Where is that guy? The one I married lives 30 miles away and is without a doubt still in bed after playing in his band until the wee hours of the morning. I wonder if he thinks about us when he gets up? Probably not. He never calls to see if we are safely where we are supposed to be and I know him well enough to know that his equivilant of my 30 minutes spent staring at the ceiling is 30 minutes of him scratching his ass and looking for a pair of socks. And I'm sure he is never worried about Lily or I getting the swine flu.

While I'm sure there is no reason for concern, I do feel achy and have a headache but think that it has more to do with the fact that I fell asleep reading and rolled over onto Lily's hard metal book light for several hours. Just to be safe, I think that I will write to President Obama and recommend a stimulus package for single working mothers who are out of vacation days and don't get child support and against all odds and vigorous hand washing have been stricken with the swine flu.

The only slow movin' i'm doing this morning is to go refill my coffee mug.

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

I say that i'm moving on. I feel like i'm moving on, sometimes. But am I? After last night's storm i'm not quite sure i'm doing anything but jogging in circles pretending to be moving somewhere.

My name is Tina or Kristina depending on what period in my life you know me from. I don't prefer one name over the other but do like to write K's in cursive more than T's. And once, when I was a teenager my friend told me that the name Tina reminded him of the fat lady in a circus. I don't know why I remember that particular moment so clearly or why I think of a lady with a little tiny head and a big huge tattooed body named Tina, but I do. So most of time I'm Kristina. And all this name baggage from a guy named Cincinnatus.

I live in what used to be a grain barn with my 8 year old daughter Lily, a cat, a hampster, and since Sunday two goldfish but I'm sure that it will be just one goldfish after this week because one of them seems like it has suffered a goldfish stroke. "Bubbles" has been laying on the bottom of the tank on his side for three days now. He was still breathing this morning but is looking like a very pale version of the orange fish that he should be and has a crazed look in his eye. I'm sure that he is trying to send me a subliminal goldfish message to put him out of his misery but I can't do it. I prefer the long, drawn out, painful end to things which is why I am still married to a guy that I haven't lived with for two years.

It's nights like last nights storm that make me wonder if there is anything that I can salvage from my marriage to make it OK again. As I mentioned, I live in what used to be a barn that I affectionately call our tree house. I usually love it. In the daytime. When the wind isn't howling and making the trees scratch against the roof and the whole place wobble back and forth, creaking...reminding me that I am moments away from a Wizard of Oz experience. Those are the moments that I wish that someone was there with me to shush me back to sleep and reassure me that the 200 year old barn has sustained storms much worse than this. But there is no one there but me. And I have to be the one to shush Lily back to sleep and tell her that the storm is already passing even though i'm really planning our escape route and wondering if i'll be able to hold onto her if the whole place collapses around us.

I think that she feels safe. She crawls on top of me and falls back to sleep. So i've done OK with the storm. But the moving on part? I'm still wondering.