Man, I don’t even know how to start this. We are like three weeks in, I think; every day is Wednesday to me and I’m cool with it. I have yet to find my grove but I am skippy dippin and skit scattin all over my wood floors trying to figure things out. No one can see me unless they look through my amazing bay windows, and you have the option of taking a picture or looking away. I stay camera-ready like Queen Gina Vong.
I’m ready to work again; not because I wanna leave my house, but because I wanna pay my own bills. I’m not as stressed about it as I should be, we all sitting in the poor pot together so I’m just trusting my path and making plans to work around this pandemic.
I love my house; I’ve said it a trillion times. I love everybody in it. I love that for the first time in a very long time I’m only obligated to pay attention to a small group of people. We are huddled up, checking in on each other, and reminding each other every day that they’re loved and missed. I hope everyone else lucked out with similar support groups.
I miss hugs though. A friend came by with quiche (Fort Smith is feeding ya girl so so so good right meow) and she gives the best hugs. We had to air hug and now my arms are sad because they anticipated the overdue affection. My love language is physical touch. I spoon and mouth kiss EVERYTHING that lives in my house. I miss hugs that don’t smell like melted Bomb Pops mixed with Lucky Charms and Gouda. I want someone other than the dog to lick my face and bark at me like DMX when I walk by. Somebody slap my ass, anything!
But for once, for the most part, I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing.
As a result, my house has been temporarily destroyed.
Just playin, my house is always like this.
But more than everything that comes with this virus and Quarantine, not to sound selfish, but I’m getting to write again. I’m sitting, writing, thinking, feeling and getting to know who Shannon should live, fight, love and die for. I’m not who I thought I was, or who I remember. I’m not even sure I’m the correct version of myself right now.
I’ve been the most distracted, it’s landed me to an unnecessary space. I’ve been literally forced to confront the space I should be tending to along with the rest of the WORLD.
We are forced to mind our own business for once. That’s not even something I do on the regular, I’m a trainwreck that I prefer not to acknowledge.
But I am now. It’s humbling to spend days at a time butting heads with your child and find a diary entry from nearly the same age with a similar situation merely reversed.
I’ve been the frustrated kid who feels like they can do no right in their mother’s eyes. I’m also the mother who can’t understand why her kid isn’t listening. Or why they don’t understand.
I’m my mother
And my son.
I miss being my parents’ daughter.
Let me go back, I promise I’ll do better! I’ll pay attention in batting practice, I’ll clean my room. I’ll stop making my brothers cry. I’ll feed the dogs every day. I’ll iron your jeans and put that crease in that you like!!
We operated in true harmony as children; we literally sang with each other all day. As the only child currently within her reach, I will say with complete confidence that personal autonomy overpowers set boundaries. No one can make anyone be ‘good’ or ‘bad.’ There’s only so much you can do when your kids are teenagers and everyone has to work. I can tell Tyler a billion times not to mess with Achilles and he knows what I’m saying, but he chooses to pull his tail. Children will do whatever they wanna do, especially when they’re big enough to get away with it.
Another thing I learned that humbled me; none of is ever prepared for the personalities and idiosyncrasies of children. They can’t be handled exactly the same and they notice it, which causes resentment that they can’t understand or navigate properly. Everyone accepts love and consequences differently so my ass is over here trying to figure out which language to speak to two different boys who JUST started speaking English and having feelings.
I barely know myself. I JUST found out on my own this week how annoying and obnoxious and tactless I am. I’m also on all the meds, so while I’m trying to rebuild myself while inadvertently self-harming in a variety of ways (no sleep, drinking too much, not writing, stress eating, etc) I’m gonna keep my remaining children alive and navigate my behavior for all my other relationships. It’s a ton of trial and error, a ton of apologizing, and even more things to add to the list of boundaries.
Every time I scream in frustration, “I never woulda gotten away with this bullshit!” I remember it’s because she didn’t let us get away with it.
She gave zero fuchs about being the best homie and how loud I threw a tantrum- by the way, cry it out doesn’t work cause I still throw em. She stood her ground to make sure whatever foolishness we tossed her way never made it out again.
Speaking of tantrums. When my Macbook broke I cried like Achilles died with it. Then somewhere between my wailing and sniffling loudly I got a flashback of my mom crying when Goog and I broke these engraved glasses my dad got her for their anniversary in 1984. We decided to play baseball with a balloon in the room we aren’t allowed to play or even visit unless we’re dusting. One of us hit the balloon with a mini Tulsa Drillers bat and it flew right into the Schrank holding Mama’s preciouses.
Upon this memory, I allowed myself another fifteen minutes or so of audible mourning, took a chill pill and went about my business.
The more time I spend with my boys, the more I realize that I deserved every ass whoopin or grounding I got.
FOR THE LOVE OF GOD I WILL BREAK LESS THINGS! I WILL BREAK NOTHING!!!!!!!!!!
Shout out to this natural disaster for humbling me as a human, parent, daughter, and woman.
Guess it’s only up from here, and right now we all cookin in the same pot.
Stay ya asses inside so we can all move up. Also, keep washing your hands.
But if you sick of cooking, keep our neighbors alive by visiting some of these guys!
These are who I’ve visited since the quarantine so far! Where have you gone?