want to grab a chair and get comfortable for coffee today cause this is going
to be a loooooong post. It’ll also be my last post on Moomser, if you want to
know why it’s my last post read this, otherwise suffice it to say that I’m
taking a break to get my writing joojoo (sp??) back on and then probably separating my
“real life” from my blog life with an anonymous blog. I do feel cowardly doing
this, I’m absolutely all for living my life out in the open, but some things I
choose to write about involve other people and at the end of the day I’d rather
hide behind the anonymity of a fake name than censure my thoughts, cause this
blog is mostly a public space for my thoughts and feelings.
wanted to tie up a few loose ends punctuated with a few totally random pictures…
It's Spring, you can tell because it won't stop raining
And then the next day it's sunny and gorgeous and you can roll around in the damp grass
husband and I are trying to work things out. We gave each other some conditions
that were necessary to each of us to keep moving forward and we’re both working
on them on our respective ends, so we’ll see how that goes. But we’re trying.
We are, neither of us, leavers, so right now we’re in standby mode. I wanted to
share one of the things that I’m doing because it could be helpful for others
out there… Several months back I read a post on Cheeseslave about a book called
The Mood Cure, which seemed to have an interesting premise, so I bought it and
promptly forgot about it, of course. Thankfully, after writing this post here a
reader wrote me an email telling me about the very same book and her experience
and suggesting I read it (thanks Susan!). I’m not going to get into what the
book is about cause Anne Marie does it better on her blog (Cheeseslave), but
it’s mostly about helping to improve your mood through diet and supplements
(mostly aminos). I’ve been taking the supplements suggested for my mood
imbalances (there’s a quiz both in the book and on this website) and I feel a
LOT better. I have way more energy, I sleep much better, I have fewer mood
swings, and life is simply not as bleak as it was in my eyes.
few years have been pretty stressful, I moved out to the country leaving
friends, a job, and everything behind (2005), my Dad died (2006), I started a
new job, with a lot of responsibility and no experience, had a baby (2008),
went right back to work, had another baby (2009), the husband got leukemia,
treatment (2010) and then got leukemia again (2011) and my body got depleted
cause that’s what stress does. All this to say, it’s an interesting book and I
recommend it strongly, it may well have saved my marriage.
Love. and big shoes.
On to more
fatuous things, we’ve been grilling the heck out of everything we could get our
hands on. Like pizza (awesome, I strongly suggest you try it!) and pineapple
(great with meat!) and bananas. Yes, bananas. You slice them in half lengthwise
with the skins still on (I washed them first) then you put them open side down
on the grill, turn them over when the edges of the skin start to blacken,
sprinkle with sugar, and leave a few more minutes with the lid closed.
A-M-A-Z-I-N-G! The sugar caramelizes, the bananas get kind of soft and slightly
gooey… am I making you want to turn the grill on??
started my yearly detox again which mainly means no refined carbs and no sugar
(also a Mood Cure suggestion), which means I’m now ravenous for bread and
croissants and pasta. I literal would turn everything I see into a sandwich. I
tell you, my mind is my worse enemy!! Although I’ve rediscovered juicing and am
juicing anything and everything… some of my concoctions are great (apple, orange,
carrot and beet for example) some are absolutely disgusting (I’ve blocked these
out). Experimenting is half the fun! Although, I’m not so sure my kids would
agree, they take up their juice glasses with a fair amount of trepidation
mama, this pod looks like a moth!
house (which I obsessed over a few months ago) is ready and we’ve been spending
the last few weekends doing all the little odds and ends jobs to make it really
homey, I wish I had pictures to show you but alas I was planning a before/after
post for a few weeks from now and haven’t taken the after pics yet.
Aperitif by the beach
of dragging this post on and on… I’m sad to say goodbye. I really enjoyed these
Virtual Coffee dates and would like to thank Amy for the great idea and for
bringing us together every week like this, and for her hillbilly latte recipe!!
you want me to get in touch if I start a new blog up again drop me an email
(moomser at gmail dot com) and I’ll contact you.
start this post with a premise, my Mother is the queen of not giving a shit
about what people think of her. Her own opinion of herself is the only opinion
that matters to her. I respect this about her immensely.
day I got a call from my Mother, which, after a good half-hour of the
parent-child equivalent of talking about the weather, finally got to the point.
Apparently, a few weeks back she was at a party and a friend approached
her and asked her whether I was getting a divorce.
talked to my Mother about any of the upheaval going on in my marriage because,
as has become the refrain whenever I write about the situation, we don’t know
what the hell we’re doing yet. I had received some inquiring calls from friends
and family members but I had done the human equivalent of burying my head in
the sand the “I don’t want to talk about it”. I realize now how ridiculous that
stance was as I was, in fact, writing about it for all the world to read. But
we’re not always rational and as long as I didn’t talk about it, I hadn’t actually shared it, or so my thinking went.
So anyway, you can imagine what the hell kind of position my mother was in at
the party. Surprisingly, she didn’t care about that. She was, however, worried
that by putting things out there on this blog I was fostering gossip and
speculation and not all of it is necessarily kind-hearted.
care in the least if people gossip, she doesn’t care in the least if people
gossip. And yet she worries that people gossip about me, my marriage, and my
personal life. I wish I could say it’s ridiculous, but it’s not. I’m her
daughter. I don’t give a crap if people talk about me, if they’re mean-spirited
towards me, or whatever other negative reaction my talking about my private
life can bring about, but, I would seriously care if people were talking and
gossiping and speculating about my child. And there’s the rub.
maybe I shouldn’t be writing about my marriage on the blog, at least until a
decision was actually made. She’s never had a problem with my blog although she
doesn’t really ever read it because in a weird way she feels like she’s
infringing on my privacy. Even though this blog is public, even though I told
her about it, even though other people read it.And it’s true that I write about private things on here. I choose to.
But, alas, I’m not the only one they impact.
was at a party, on the other side of the world, living her life, and something
I chose to write about myself on this blog impacted her. I don’t know how she
felt, that wasn’t the purpose of her phone call, but I can imagine. One of your
friends comes and tells you that your daughter and her husband are going
through some stuff and are thinking of separating and you know not a single
thing about it. Probably doesn’t feel too good. I can imagine she was flustered
and embarrassed, she probably didn’t know how to react, she had no clue what
that person was talking about. Why on earth did I put her in that position?
ready to talk to my mother about it, because never are things so real to me as when I tell her, but I needed a place to share it, I needed
feedback and support but not from people in my “real life”. Unfortunately,
sometimes there’s a divide that comes between the blogging world and the
physical world. This was mine. I could and wanted to share with my blogging
friends, friends that only know me, that only interact with me, but I wasn’t
and I’m not ready to share some things with people in my life that know and
interact with my family and with each other.
this blog. I’ve put a lot of myself in this blog. This blog helped me work
through and get through much of the husband’s illness, I made good friends
through this blog and I reconnected with many old friends and acquaintances. I
loved all the comments and emails I got from people both in my “real life” and
people I only know through the internet. But I’m shutting it down. I can’t put
my mother, or, though she never said anything to me, my mother in law, or my
husband or anyone else, in the position to be embarrassed, or uncomfortable, or
unhappy by the things I write on here.
being Moomser, so it’s with a heavy heart that I say goodbye. I’m not sure what
I’m going to do, whether I’ll start another, more discreet blog, cause I’m a
little bit addicted to this blogging lark. I also don’t want to lose the
relationships I’ve forged through it, I can pick up the phone and talk to or
email my friends and family, not so much with my blogging friends. So if you
want to keep in touch drop me a line, in the comments or email and I’ll contact
you when I start something back up.
posting a Virtual Coffee post tomorrow, with some news of our day to day goings
on and last pictures, it’ll be my 37th Virtual Coffee, I’m a little
shocked that I kept it up this long! Also, I want to close this blog with a “normal”
post, just a regular Moomser post, it’s more fitting I think.
for now and thank you for going through this journey with me. Moomser.
time I went to the shooting range, my friend gave me some much needed
directions as to what not to do with a gun in your hand, one of the things he
said was “if you’re going to talk to someone behind you or you want to look
around you put the gun down first”.At first I wondered at this seemingly strange
piece of advice, but then the first time I did it I understood his warning,
because though you may think you’re only turning your head you’re actually
turning your torso shoulders and arms right along with it and that’s how you
end up accidently pointing the gun at someone.
realized how similar shooting and peeing are; or rather, guns and penises in
this analogy. Because the Boy, he never, ever manages to just pee in the toilet. It gets on the seat
(which he invariably forgets to lift up), it gets on the floor, it gets on his
socks and only a marginal amount actually hits the toilet bowl. And today I had
an epiphany, it’s because he isn’t physically able to just pee, he has to fiddle with the flusher, or talk to his sister,
who is, inexplicably, always in there with him, he turns around to see who’s
walking past the open (what else?) door, and his torso, shoulders, arms and
hips go right along with him. Which all just begs the question: why don’t we
just make men pee sitting down?
We had a private family blog, which the husband mostly
(or rather, practically exclusively) maintains and I occasionally contributed to and then concurrently in 2010 two
dear friends started their own blogs which, incidentally, I suggest you visit
cause they’re awesome: Nuts about Food and The Nero Chronicles. Their blogs
have a focus, a purpose, I had none, but I enjoy writing and I’m a “sharer” so through the power of imitation I started what pretty much amounts to a life blog.
this blog to be anonymous, but as I said, I’m a sharer, so almost as soon as I
started it I shared it on facebook. Thus, though not popular by any stretch of
the imagination, this blog became not anonymous and is read, in part,
by people I know in “real life”. This has never really been a problem for me,
until recently. Sure, at times I found I would inadvertently censor myself or I
would think of a possible subject and then decide not to post it because it
would infringe on someone’s privacy, but it happened rarely and once I decided
not to write it I never gave it another thought.
I was always happy to hear of a friend or acquaintance that visited me here, I
felt it was a way to connect (albeit one-sidedly) to people in my life I rarely
get to see. And yet now, I sometimes feel restricted by this blog, I constantly
wonder whether I’m offending (I’m sure I am, with my anti-Italy posts), whether
I’m over-sharing, whether by talking candidly about my life I’m overstepping on
the right to privacy of the people in my life.
And so I
question whether it wouldn’t have been better to suffer the silence of blogging
just for myself while slowly building readership and, more importantly,
friendship in the blogging world keeping it separate from my “real” life, thus
concurrently protecting my family and maintaining a space for myself, where I
could just be myself, and write my
thoughts as they exist in my head rather than the version of our thoughts we
present to the world. Because despite how candid we think we are, how true to
ourselves we want to be, we inevitably censor, tone down, or up, or otherwise
modify our reactions, our words, our gestures and actions and expressions
depending on who we’re interacting with. It’s human nature.
other hand, I wonder if blogging anonymously isn’t just hiding, isn’t being
ashamed, isn’t not wanting to own up to who we are. Isn't short-changing the very real, and very important friends one makes on the internet just because one hasn't met them in the physical world.
I’ve never really cared too
much about what others think of me. Of course, I can’t say I don’t care at all,
because that would be ridiculous, but I’m not overly concerned if someone
doesn’t agree with something I write, in fact, it’s highly likely that someone
won’t. But can I make that decision for the other people in my life?
I wish that I had a specific theme to my blog, a food blog, a design blog, an
arts and crafts blog (an impossibility, as I’m neither artsy nor craftsy) but
this is a “me” blog and I don’t live in a bubble. Also, I’ve got that whole
over-sharing thing going on.
I keep going in circles.
lesson I learned from blogging? There are limits in everything we do, limits
imposed by society, limits imposed by our fears, limits imposed by our own good
sense, and sometimes limits imposed in what we write, about ourselves and about
Can I live with these limits?
I’m not so sure anymore. So where does
a blogger go from here?
On the funny side: For whatever reason that is incomprehensible to me,
the Boy has managed to bang his head on some surface in the kitchen every
single day this week right before leaving for school. I have no idea how he
does it, one minute we’re all: ok, shoes on, finish your juice, let’s go! And
then: whack! And screaming and wailing.
Yesterday he banged his head on the counter, today he banged his head on
the door. He was walking backwards. That could be why he didn’t see the door…
but why was he walking backwards? Every day, I tell you. I just don’t get it,
and I hope it’s just this week or his teachers are going to call social
services on me.
On the frustrating side: One of the reasons I stopped working when I had
kids was because I was exhausted at the idea of yelling and coaxing people to
do stuff all day only to come home and have to do the same thing with my kids.
Because, honest to God, I don’t understand how people in Italy work. We’re
buying a house, in point of fact we’re buying a stable from the 1600’s and
converting it to a house… this actually sounds way more historic and romantic
than what it is in reality. We’ve been having some delays on the actual buying
part but as the bureaucracy in Italy is biblically long we’ve decided to go
ahead and get all the plans ready for the restructuring and hand them in to the
proper authorities so they can take their sweet time to give us approval and
let us start the works. What I don’t understand is this: I’ve been having to
call the architect to task weekly, he makes excuses, he sheepishly tells me he’s
sorry and there will be no more delays, he calls my husband – because apparently
I’m too scary – when a delay that’s not his fault happens, today after I called him he told me that the plans I was supposed to see yesterday will be ready on Monday. I don’t get it, I’m not his
mother and yet I feel like it, with the coaxing, the wheedling, the negotiating
and the yelling. And this is what any type of construction work (or really any
type of work where you need to get anything done) is like in Italy. Why can’t
people just do what they say they’ll do? I’m already exhausted at the idea of
what the next few months of my life will be like.