I really did not plan on blogging tonight.

But I’m anxious and unsettled for a number of reasons, so here I sit, unable to log onto my other blog and lay it all out for nobody to read because, quite frankly, I’m scared of scaring myself with what would come out if I didn’t censor myself a bit.

Pushing things down is highly underrated.

Instead, I’ll sit at mybloggers and turn my day to day life into a funny anecdote. Because sometimes, and I’m not being sarcastic, that makes me feel better.

Strange gal that I am.

Hm. That all sort of set the tone, didn’t it? Hard to come up with funny anecdotes once I’ve gone and soured the mood with reality and seriousness, isn’t it?

Okay, okay…you twisted my arm…I’ll give you one truth. But that’s it!

Sometimes being Julian’s mother makes me feel lonelier than I have ever been before.

I want to elaborate on that. I do, I really, really do. But like I said above, I am scared of letting that out tonight. Maybe because tomorrow is a school day and I have to get up and I already know that I will up at least once, if not twice or three times, tonight and it’s a bad idea to start delving down deep and coming up with eyes full of tears and a constricting throat.

But I do want to say (and then I promise to get on with the show) that I don’t always need a pep talk. Honestly. Sometimes I just need the space to feel something before I can let it go. And the truth is that sometimes this job sucks some serious motherfucking ass, let me tell you. It is lonely. So very, very lonely. For fellow parents out there (and I have Randy to thank for that…just a month ago, I would have said, “mothers” instead of “parents”) who feel “touched out” at the end of the day…and I have been there with my girls and I remember the feeling all to well…please don’t take it for granted. Please don’t take their cuddles and kisses and hugs and pats and need for your body to practically be their own for granted. Just once, while you’re feeling that way, think of me, would you? If that’s not too egotistical to ask for. Soak up a little cuddle time instead of thinking of the things you need to get doing for this girl who would give her right arm right now for some.

Right. So where was I? Oh yeah. I don’t always need a pep talk. In fact, my life is full of people who are always giving me pep talks and encouraging me to do something differently. Most of the time it’s unwanted advice. And a lot of the time I have to stop myself from smacking them. Sometimes one just needs another to acknowledge the challenge, give it validation before they can move onto the next stage. That’s it.

I swear I didn’t mean to end up blogging about this.

Okay…

I have a hot chocolate and I have already sworn. Profusely. So that takes care of my two favourite vices, right? Onto another….

Michael Jackson!

I can’t believe that I missed the interview Oprah did with Katherine Jackson. Actually, I can believe it since I never watch Oprah and don’t watch television during the day pretty much at all (and I don’t think watching the same DVD of Mr. Dress Up over and over and over again for six hours counts).

I guess what I mean to say is that I’m sorry I didn’t get a heads up from some Oprah watching friend (although I don’t think I have any) so that I could have tuned in for it. I’m sure it will be repeated at some point…and I’ll probably watch it…and I will most likely be sorely disappointed. I’m always doing that…watching or reading something about Michael in the hopes of gaining some of the magic he used to stir up in me only to find I will never feel it again because he’s gone, I won’t see him on a magazine or on TV unexpectedly, he won’t pop into my message box on facebook ever again…and reading about or listening to people who knew or loved him will never, ever be the same.

Because it’s not him. Because he’s gone.

I’ll ask that you not judge me on this on, even if you really, really hated him. I loved him. LOVE him. I long ago stopped trying to explain to people why I loved him as much as I did…and believe me, it was a remarkable kind of love…and instead just asked that they refrain from judging me or from saying negative things about him in my presence.

I feel a Michael rant coming on. Ah, what the fuck, right? It’s * my * blog, after all! I can say whatever I damn well feel like.

Who cares what he did to his face?! It was HIS face! And how did that affect the lives of any of us?

And why are people so surprised to find that his children loved him, miss him, thought of him in the way we all thought of our own fathers? He was their Dad, after all. He was none of the things the media made him out to be to any of them.

I just want to go and watch This Is It and cry into my hot chocolate now.

Onto other matters.

I sent my very first text message today. It took me quite a bit longer than it should have. How are people so good at it? It’s hard! Much easier to just call someone up, I think, but then what do I know? Could someone please tell me what the allure of text messaging is? Honestly. I don’t get it.

I’ve been trying to decide whether or not to take Julian out tomorrow morning. I’ve been pretty much thinking about it all day, which is only a testament to how pathetic my little life is, I guess. You see, I have a few errands to run, including picking up a gift for Erica’s friend’s birthday on Saturday. I’m scared to leave it until Friday night because sometimes the Friday night thing doesn’t go very well with the kids and I. However, I have a telephone interview at one thirty tomorrow afternoon with the ACSD lady and I booked that time because Julian often naps and it’s very, very difficult for me to have a phone conversation of any kind when he’s awake. Damn near impossible some days.

Now, if I take him out in the morning, there is a good chance he will be extra mixed up the rest of the day, especially considering that I already took him out this past Tuesday. And that means he might not sleep. Which will make the phone interview difficult.

But…it’s with the ACSD lady for Christ’s sake. I’m sure it wouldn’t be the first time she’s done an interview with an ASD kid going crazy in the background. My fear is that I won’t be able to concentrate and focus and will miss something critical or mix up one of my numbers or something…

And now, lastly, a question for all of you.

At what age is it appropriate to allow kids to talk on the phone with their friends? I ask because Olivia, who is nine and in the fourth grade, received a phone call tonight while she was out gallivanting with Granny and Grandpa. So, I ask…at what point are they old enough?

That’s not such a good way to end this rambling, incoherent post.

Instead, a conversation that happened in my bedroom yesterday.

Me: “Julian, be careful with that candle.” (He was smelling a candle on my nightstand)

Julian: Blank stare. (He doesn’t understand what I’ve just said)

Me: “Julian. Look at me. Please. Be. Careful.”

Julian: Still a blank stare. (He still doesn’t understand what I’m asking of him)

Me: “Julian. Do. Not. Play. With. That.”

Julian: “Why?”

Me: “Because it is mine. It is special to me. I like it.”

Julian: “I like umbrellas.”

It’s more than okay to laugh. I know I sure as fuck did. In fact, just repeating that conversation cheered me up immensely. Good night, all.