N-Wording IX
Offensive language alert. Please refrain from Anti Normal rhetoric in this strictly personal sorting of my own strictly personals. I remain open to suggestions for a less offensive word for ^it^.
If it had ever occurred to me to wonder, I might have thought those breaks from parenting duties would be even more important in a second parenting career than they were in the first. That is ALLOT of stress to put on geriatric bones and stamina, even without the cig yaddahs. This is the first wake up of vacation week and I still havenae found the enthusiasm I so cherished when my in-laws whisked my first batch of cherubs off for visitation weeks. Those in-laws didn't keep divorce lawyers on speed dial. My son's in-laws are an entirely different whisker set who has recently and unappologetically thrown mean accusations at me in court. Yesterday the other grandfather did let us know it was nothing personal. Another diff between the two sets of in-laws. The other in-laws kept our relations STRICTLY personal. What am I sending these children off too across political lines that are even less personal than my son's in-laws? The quiet in this morning's dawn doesnae feel at all peaceful. The adventure in all those unknowns feels downright menacing. Nay even close to my adventure of strictly personal choice.
But ^it^ is what ^it^ is, whether I like ^it^ or knot. . . Attempting to take action in the face of fear now. . .
A bit of the Old N-Word may have wiggled its way into yesterday's close encounter of the nothing personal kind. Back when I was still a grandmother, Big Bro and I ended each visitation with a mock crying ritual where I would do a mock drama cry over his departure. He would mock laugh at my cry. Big Sis was still too young to understand the fun when the possibility of never seeing him again became too real for me to perform the ritual without all-too-real tears. Yesterday was the first time I had even a modicum of confidence to initialize the ritual. Big Sis joined in the mockery and even Baby Sis got over her separation anxiety for long enough to enjoy the show. If this is the final crash of our little ship of fools, it was a moment worth remembering.
Back to the quest to find my vacation spirit. Processing. . . Praying. . . Leaving the mood indicator at the rapid cycling median once more. Girl howdy, this has been a rough ride.
Replies
Arfie....hoping you get past the initial shock of not having the kids. When you get use to having the noise sometimes the silence is deafining and uncomfortable.
The fact that nobody on this little ship of fools has had time to *get used to* any of this is what has me risking use of the N-Word in the sorting of this very specific psycho snot knot. Big Bro and Big Sis are still braced for sandbox bullies to take their new bedrooms away from them. Proverbial sandbox bullies are far more N-Word to them than having rooms of their very own.
From my adult perspective, there are quite allot of Sandbox Bullies that really do want to take those rooms away from them. Child sex trafficking survivor here. It fits my conditioned normatives, as well. Family law is a proverbial shark tank. Lots of bullying in the mix.
Why? ? ? Because I said so. Am I old enough to understand yet? I might need another 65 years to see the logic of ^it^.
Reminds me of the Bruce Cockburn song, "The Trouble with Normal (is it always gets worse)"
Thank you for reminding you of your favorite singer's name, Muji. I am feeling surfy today, so I took a minute to look him up. Unfortunately, I am having a bad hearing day and didnae recognize any of the titles on his discography, so ? ? ? We see what grows. With as much as you love that song, the lyrics might be worth digging up.
For sure, by the theory I am currently working, single Profie N-Word is quite different than second parenting career N-Word. That might even be an N-Word phenom. Not all normatives are created equal. Hell. . . The second parenting career N-Word blew my old life straight out of the water. . . What planet am I on?
But. . . Perhaps you and Mister Cockburn are right. Trying to N-Word this little ship of fools will only make things worse.
Chewing. . . Open to suggestions, my brother-in-healing.
You're welcome, arfie. Here's a link to that song.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n3u36hV9CoE
It's the title track of a 1983 album by the same name. I was a fan ever since back then and finally got to sit on the front row of a concert he gave live 2 years ago. It was a thrill for me, especially since he's a Canadian artist and I've never been to Canada so it was a real treat for me that he came to my own state of Maryland to do a show. Great lyrics. They definitely don't make it worse, you can trust me of all people on that. He gets it, he really does. That's rare and precious.
What's so great about him as an inspiration to have out there reminding us we're not alone. That's the same fact that guided me in writing my book on Uruguay's dictatorship and surviving the brutality portrayed in the Netflix movie about it out now called A Twelve Year Night. Those of us who were tortured like that movie shows banded together even when our captors tried to drive us crazy (as they say in the film), and helped each other the way folks do here on DS PTSD.
I'm still having a bad hearing stretch and listening to the song will be more work than I have in me for the task just now, so I looked up the lyrics out of respect for you. The wisdom isnae resonating for our heavily taxed ship of fools at this very specific moment in herstory. I donae even have the objectivity to ply those Normals to any of the crew members on our little ship of fools. Part of my strictly personal Norm is that I am terrified of all the nameless, faceless **They's** of the world. I am even more terrified of individuals who call me, "They." Kiddie whorehouses run on the mindset. That isn't a child. . . That's a public toilet. **They** are **Us** chosen for the job. The trouble with Mister Cockburn's Normal is that it is a global judgement on nameless, faceless They's which are likely to trigger my meanest psychoses(pl). In that realm, both you and Mister Cockburn are kiddie whorehouse clients. Your ex-wives, too. The psycho math fits for Mister Cockburn to have played at one of the parties therein. Lots of talented They bashers play the circuit. The They images such lyrics create in a traumatized child brain are genuinely hideous. Half a century later **They** still haunt me and I still fall into that schism of isms on a distressingly routine basis. The N-Word of PTSD. . .
Long is the battle of Us against Them. No disrespect intended, but I still believe it is a folly to press a bachelor profie, a finger-pointing Canadian and a retiree attempting to assimilate a second parenting career into a single set of normatives, and we havenae even gotten to the orphans yet. I notice Mister Cockburn doesnae include children in his Theys.
Again, I apologize for having offended your anti-Normal normatives. Have you any suggestions for a better word for our craving to know what to expect when the crew of our little ship of fools open our eyes every morning? All that is a bit much to recite during moments of strictly personal crisis. We are a bit over supplied on the Nothing Personal Theys at the moment, including clever and wise, Nothing Personal bachelors. Not a single one of the bachelors (both genders) in our lives, seems to have anything but criticism to offer to our plight. The continual criticism doesnae feel too productive. Starting over at every criticism from that body of They feels even less productive. How cruel is it that we currently have more bachelors than kid lovers in our lives? That body of criticism is coming at us rapid fire with no suggestions to replace what They are shooting down. That be N-Word for Them. I expect ^it^, like ^it^ or knot. Knot.
If you **must** kick our crutches, please offer solutions with your criticism. We's **just** making the best of a bad situation in the here and now.
Again I am sorry for the horrors you survived in Uruguay. I may have those trauma tails memorized by now. Hope healing happens here.
I wasn't able to watch all of "A Twelve Year Night." It was a very slow moving movie and is far enough removed from my personal experience to be as alien as my kiddie whorehouse experience is for you. Vastly different bodies of normatives.
Healing hopes for all. No exceptions.