Stuff and Bother

Remission. It's a funny kind of word, really. Lately I have been looking at Dave, at his cool sideburns that he grows for me because he knows I love them ... looking at his hair, and I just can not believe that he was so bald and so sick and we all got through totally SCATHED, but we are still alive.

I remember coming home from hospital with Rocco last year, and a whole big fat juicy plantation of mushrooms were in the front garden. Huge, motherfucking mushrooms that must have been growing for AG-ES. Months. Instantly I grew FULL of rage, and smashed and kicked them all one by one, not even stopping to put the baby down. Oh my goodness I was so angry - at the mushrooms, at Dave, at myself ... mostly at his tumours, that secretly grew and grew right under our noses and we didn't even know.

I'm only just now, just this morning, in fact .... turning to look towards Dave again. I had to pull back so much from him .... all I could do was be a mother and that's it. Nothing else. Sorry sweetheart, you must save yourself. I have my hands full of nappies and school homework and weeping despair. Go away. And take your cancer with you.

I went to a womens meeting yesterday, which was so frickin' awesome. Somebody was sharing about how she cried when she came to this meeting, and she didn't know why. I know why ... because it's real, and true ... we come together to talk honestly and openly about trying to live our lives the best way we know how. It is raw and ugly and beautiful, our shared stories and pain. It helps.

I shared last, and accidentally had everybody in stitches laughing. I let loose a bit when I share (surprised?) ..... sometimes shit comes tumbling out of my mouth and I had no idea I was even feeling that way. I only had five minutes to talk, so I was like this machine gun of swearing, craziness, and inappropriate laughter. About how I keep getting addicted to things, anything that makes me feel good I just abuse the hell out of it. I now SALIVATE on my way to pump class. I freakin' pump those weights so very hard, it just feels so bloody good. And how tired my poor body is after the assault I give it four days a week.

I shared, laughing, how I randomly wished lately that I was in a dingy hotel room getting wasted ... how utterly vile that would be but the wanting to do it still brought pain. After all these years! How I know that underneath the surface of that it's just my desire to turn off, to have no feelings, no emotions, or sadness, just numb.

But, I don't really want numb. I am living a life beyond my wildest dreams. I have so much to be grateful for, beautiful children, beautiful house, beautiful hubbie (when he's not being a know-it-all-turdburger) .. and not just stuff ... things deep and real. Self-worth, acceptance, and self-respect. You cannot buy these things from any shop. I'm so blessed.

The music guy for Slumdog Millionaire won a few Oscars yesterday, he spoke of how, travelling through his life, he always had two choices. Love and hate. He said it would have been easy to just hate hate hate. But he chose love ... and ended up right where he was.

I need to stop hating so much, and just love. It's probably more simple than I think.
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Blogging crisis lately .... wondering how many more haters are out there, why do I even blog, it's just silly, etc. My answer .... as usual, I will do the EXACT OPPOSITE of what my brain tells me. So for the whole month of March I will post every day, like my own personal NaBloPoMo.

Because the world needs more gibberish from a nutjob.

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Nine months old .... Baby has his first tooth! Mummy had to explain to Baby that millions of babies across the entire world are teething every single day ... for the love of God, Baby .... you are going to be ok.

I need to go now, I can hear him playing with the toilet again.