lists

Doing of the Things

/ herismeorg / Leave a comment
IN-Q
(or listen here)

How are we doing all of the things? Are we doing all of the things?

I am not. I wish I could be cool, awesome, and put together in a lovely tidy riband package and be a part of the ones getting the things done.

On Pinterest board “Coveted Clothing Items,” I find I have pinned ribbon ruffle pleated smocked things everywhere. I seem to have the packaging eye for myself (which rarely translates outside of the pin), but the getting things done part is a struggle.

The banker man person for FatherHerisme and MotherHerisme would like to visit FatherHerisme in his skilled nursing long-term facility. FatherHerisme is there after snowball medical debacles earlier this year because he needs dialysis 3x week now. He is unable to be reliably transported in a vehicle because his body is so weak, and must be in a facility with onsite dialysis. Do not EVEN ask what the cost for this is because it is INSANELY expensive here. Yet the facility presents as an outdated 1980’s era building… great people but the facility condition is sus. For example, only 1 item may be plugged in at a time in FatherHerisme’s room. He can either use his CPAP or have his iPad plugged in to Facetime us. 1st world problems, but for the amount of $$$$$, it seems like a basic expectation to use multiple outlets in a long term care facility. Maybe I’m Karening (?). Maybe it’s Maybelline. Did any of you use that bright pink/green packaged mascara back in the day? woot woot I haven’t worn mascara for years and years and years. I look like I do not have any eyelashes without it because mine are blondish whiteish. Meh – whatevs – letting it go

The banker man call regarding visiting FatherHerisme reminded me that not only have I not followed up with the tasks he set me, I have not followed up with the attorney about updated POA’s/wills/trusts etc. I have not followed up with MotherHerisme’s appointments or SonHerisme’s orthodontist (He is braces-free but needs a retainer check). I have not cleaned out the Princess Room (home office moniker left over from the days of my little nieces using this room as their own magical sleepover/play area). I have not cleaned out the basement/garage to prepare for remodeling for MotherHerisme. I did not get the play structure removed from the backyard. I have not put a hitch on the back of my car to accommodate a bike rack so that SonHerisme and I could go bike riding. The three things he wanted to do this summer: take a bike ride, go to the beach, paint his room. We never did any of that. Parenting/Daughtering/Humaning fails everywhere I turn. *sigh*

Trudging along then.

Doing the things.

I am determined to accomplish things before I add more to my plate. Is it a recognition of how I am searching for the something, dreaming of the something, imagining the something instead of doing the things? I mean, I’m not a blob doing the nothings of course, because I am a single mom caretaking for an ill parent and trying to manage both ill parents’ affairs… But the inattention to some of the things is truly weighing down on being able to do the things which are important to myself (such as a bike ride with SonHerisme which time is running out on him being interested in it at all).

Dear Doing of the Things,  
   I wish you oodles of luck with my brain attempting to prioritize in ways which better serve all of us in the ends, middles and beginnings of minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and years.
Love, me

How do you do the doing of the things beyond what you are doing? Discipline and consistency? Tiny bites? Celebrations? Maybe I need to make a ruffled shirt for inspiration. Fabric and threads are at the ready…

GAH! But the things which need doing are staring at me from my lists. And the weather is so lovely today which makes me think another walk around the park to finish my current listenread (Map of Salt and Stars) might pull rank over all. There are ducks, people! Adorable ducks AND a bell tower AND a fountain! How am I supposed to resist all of that delicious atmosphere just to sit and fill out paperwork, or clean, or ….

Compromise then?

I’ll make three appointment calls, shower/feed MotherHerisme and set her up for the day, send paperwork followup to one waiting agency, iron four napkins (don’t judge me), defrost dinner prep, take some donations to the car to drop off, and then walk in the park. Knee socks and all.

Love, Ms. Herisme xoxo

ps There was a bomb threat at one of our local high schools about an hour ago – seems to be fine now, and not SonHerisme’s school. Anywho, good luck brain stuck on hoping none of our kids die at school in the USA today. FFFFFfffff U C K y’all Homeschool is looking really good right now. I do not know how staff are showing up for this bullshit or our kids, frankly. G-d freaking damn. I swear to whatever – we have GOT to get our SHIT together with accountability for violence. JayZeus frickin hells

Check Marked

/ herismeorg / Leave a comment
(unknown origin, will credit once identified)

You guys – I watched a movie.

non-Marvel? CHECK

non-Star Wars? CHECK

non-kiddo friendly? CHECK

fiction? CHECK MATE

As you know, this is huge for me. Then, as I was brag-texting about my accomplishment to an Inveterate Optimist, I got sick to my stomach – twice. So, maybe not that huge of an accomplishment. F it – yeah it is. #checkyourselfbeforeyouwreckyourself

I tried to watch this same movie at some point last Spring and made it about 2 minutes in before I recognized one of the actors who does not sit well with me, although admittedly I am not very familiar with his work. I am sure he is lovely and fine and his family and friends love him very much. I knew of him from a documentary kind of show I watched a few episodes of at the beginning of COVID quarantine. I had to stop watching that because I would just absolutely break down and cry – sob ugly cry. At the time I figured it was because they were having so much fun in the show going around to the places, learning the things, drinking the things and maybe I was jealous or grief feeling how much I have missed enjoying things in my life. They were having fun (yes, I KNOW it is produced, directed, contrived etc even in a “real life experience” kind of show), and I… I was… I am not.

Anywho, I decided to open the rusty ol’ Netflix app on my phone when I couldn’t sleep (something was growling outside – it’s a thing as I live in the woods which are occasionally spooky), and the movie was still sitting there asking to be resumed. I restarted it and I watched it. It was short, maybe 90 minutes or so, very quirky, no emphasis on falling in love, and it has Toni Collette (I do know of her)! Even though I did cry at points, ultimately I felt such a sense of relief that I made it through the movie.

Then the afterwards arrived and, well, I need to find therapy y’all.

The innate worthiness factor and my parenting with SonHerisme are super concerning for me. He’s still in virtual school until next school year when it looks like most of us will have had vaccines. Ill MotherHerisme and I are all he has to engage with most days. Oh, and MotherHerisme’s two un-socialized little minature schnauzer dogs. SonHerisme is lonely and he deserves so much more. He is such a great kid.

Post spinach lunch (again, I know – its like a drug), seed sewing (not a euphemism – actual plant seeds needing tended), a bit of laundry and driveway power walk, I am going to at least look up some therapist contacts. I don’t think I’ll return to the woman I was seeing pre-COVID. She’s too lovely, compassionate and kind. I think I need someone a bit more detached, or rather someone I feel more detached from.

Sort of like watching any show. If I feel any kind of anything other than it’s silly and entertaining, I just cannot watch the program. At all. My brain and body just do not handle any feeling above numb very well, unless I feel some control over the situation or it is so very deep into the sillyzone. I would like to not be like this anymore. Disassociation is my superpower which is super exhausting me and super impacting my ability to help SonHerisme grow (and not in a positive way).

However, I would really like to go down to the NGA DC because it is a great comfort to be surrounded by impactful artwork which I can internally interpret and walk away from at any time without feeling any obligation or need for explanation. I don’t think the buildings are open atm – maybe by reservation (?).

*dream break* I like to walk around the sculptures first – Romulus and Remus, African Allegory, the lady with the veil, the little politicians’ busts, Paul Revere, Little Dancer – you know, the usual. Then say my, “how-de-do’s!” to George on my way upstairs to see sweet Ginerva, count the Ruben’s lions, Napoleon, the boating party, the ice skater guy and girl in the white dress (whom I believe come to life for a secret after-hours affair then spend all day staring at each other across the galleries – it could be true). The Civil War memorial, which is noble and sad at the same time. The central fountain with its seasonal arrangements… The steps up from the mall where you can pretend to be Kung Fu Panda pulling your dim-sum cart up the mountain for the festival (sweet SonHerisme memories). Then back down to the basement for coffee and a lot of “no, we are not buying that”‘s at the gift shop, before heading over to the East building to see Bellow’s boxers, Calder, Rothko, Mondrian, Pollock and the sitting Buddha outside with the fantastic giant blue rooster. Return to the basement for a treat and then a short walk through the sculpture garden, avoiding the Natural History Museum because by then it is too crowded, before heading home.

I hardly ever go through the first floor gift shop, only the basement one and I don’t know why. The lady’s room is much nicer on the first floor. Hmmm… maybe a pivot for next visit. That’s sad, dreaming about clean lady’s rooms in museums. That’s where we are on the COVID mental health scale atm, I suppose.

Onwards to check mark off the things needing the doing.

Love, Ms. Herisme xoxo

ps meet me post-COVID at the NGA DC for a cuppa and we can walk, walk, walk, not talk, together. Not too long on the verso of Ginerva because I will cry because da Vinci is almost too much. Also, there’s a sparkly walking sidewalk in the basement! sys

pps Birthmarked is the movie and now that I’ve thought about the experience for a day or so, I think I am okay with it – yay!

Room 703

/ herismeorg / 1 Comment

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In June of 2014, I began seeing a therapist.  She is now retired.  She is a lovely person, and I miss her understanding.

 

As I am without insurance and unemployed, I gots ta figure dis out on me own, matey (argh!), for the time being (as you may have gleaned from prior posts).

 

She once asked me to make a list of what I wanted for myself.  Not for my sweet little MrBearwhois8, but just for me.  I still have that list in my fancy, almost empty, journal.  Here is what I was able to pull out of my brain and put on the list:

 

I would like to eat a meal without my stomach hurting.

 

Fast forward to April 2016, and a sweet woman that I know (professional life coach) offered me a step towards self-guidance by suggesting that I write down everything I am good at, no matter how menial (“even if it’s wiping baby’s dirty bottoms” said she).  I still have that list in my fancy, almost empty, journal.  Here is what I was able to put on that list:

 

I am really good at letting my son know and feel how much he is loved.

 

It’s so strange to reflect on this, because I am a HUGE list maker.  In the past, I made lists all of the time.  List-making relaxes me and allows for comfortable brain space relief.

 

I am the person who makes lists of what to pack, what has been packed, labels all of the bags, and carries the list just in case the suitcase goes missing.  It is my way and it has worked for me.

What kinds of lists do you make?

 

Now my brain has been ptsd kerfuffled, and I am re-learning it’s parameters and myself.

 

I am determined to allow myself to make lists again.  Pinteresting lists, notepad lists, room-by-room spreadsheet lists.

 

If you don’t hear from me in two weeks,

I’ll be at the Nationale Hotel in Mexico City, Room 703!

( Victor Velasco)

 

Love, Ms. Herisme xo