So, I'm 38 today. I was yesterday and the day before that, too, but today it's hitting me harder than most days. Most of the time I've reconciled myself with the fact that I am getting older with very few successes to show for my years, and I am at peace. Today, not so much.
Let me tell you about me. Well, about US. Our small dysfunctional family of 5 lives in the town of Surprise, Arizona which is just outside of Phoenix. Our cast of characters is few, but boy do we make up for that in character (flaws):
Uncle F-Bomb is my partner. We met a few years ago at a party while I was still married to The Ex. While the story of our accidental courtship is long and fascinating, it is not for today. I promise though, that I'll tell you about it at some point. Our love story isn't as sordid or beautiful (and my shame and guilt aren't as deep) without those details. Uncle F-Bomb is 51, and has led what I'm going to call "quite a life". His stories about his past lives are exciting and intense, sometimes sad, frequently cautionary and one of my favorite things about him. He is facing some really overwhelming medical issues right now, which slow him down more than he'd like and frustrate us both. We are in the process of applying for disability for him and trying to get him back into fighting shape. He needs to be healthier, he has two new terrible children and a me to keep up with!
Sister Squirley is Uncle F-Bomb's sister. She's 68, but she functions like someone much much older. Well, really someone much younger - her actions and attitude mixed with her limited cognitive ability put her at around 9 to 12 years old, which is frustrating. When she was 42, she had an aneurysm one night at work and was whisked away to the hospital where she suffered a series of strokes during her 9 month recovery. As a result, she lost a lot of function on her left side and has continued to decline cognitively ever since. A little over a year ago, while F-Bomb and I still thought she was much higher functioning than she is, she fell and snapped her left hand right off of her wrist. It was a horrible scary accident that has had an endless recovery and opened our eyes to a more realistic view of her abilities.
Thunder is my slightly autistic 16 year old daughter. She is one of the most brilliant people I've ever met and has the delightful tendency of also being one of the biggest pains in the ass on earth too. Our relationship is complicated and occasionally painful, but I am grateful every day for the opportunity to be her mother. She is in the middle of her sophomore year in high school, excelling academically and (more importantly) starting to make sense of the social world, too. She has a delightful boyfriend, Popinfresh, who is a pretty OK guy. Watching become an adult over the next few years is going to be fascinating.
Hawkedude is my ten year old son. He waited until he was almost four to start talking and hasn't stopped since. He's got some autisticy tendencies, but thankfully they are few and manageable. Sometimes I laugh remembering the moment of panic when I found out I was pregnant with him - couldn't imagine being able to handle two children or love someone else the way I loved Thunder. That worry disappeared the first time I got to hold him and stare into those beautiful eyes. Now I am thankful that I have this kid in my life. Raising him has taught me so much and exercised a few of my personal demons.
That leaves me. The kids and F-Bomb got to chose their own names, but now I'm stuck on mine. Let's just go with F-Mom for the time being. Describing yourself is never fun, and I can't go on and on about how much I love me, so I feel pretty challenged here. Like I said earlier, I'm 38. And a woman. And a mother of two kids. And partner to one amazing man. And caregiver to a disabled old lady that drives me crazy. I've been a dog groomer, receptionist, floral designer, customer service representative and team manager. I am still married to The Ex but doing my best to change that as quickly as possible. I curse too much, make out of this world cookies, and love my dogs. And I'm a work in progress.
My hope for this blog is multifaceted. It needs to be a space where I can process and share, but I'm planning on doing more than just that. I want to chronicle some of F-Bomb's great stories and talk up my kids. There's also more than enough space to share some of F-Bomb's recipes and talk about the projects we are working on and my job hunt. Really, I'm secretly hoping to find myself a little and work out where I'm going. It'll be interesting to see what really happens here. I'm sorry if it sucks.
I was devastatingly unhappy for a long long time. I look forward to learning how to be me sans the angst, and to keeping track of my journey here.
More later, Internet. Be good.
F-Mom
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