We have ways of ranking our cats. For instance, Carol is D's favorite. Mal thinks Aish is the cutest, and Carol is in second place. Also, Carol seems like she's the smartest, the most agile, and probably the deadliest. Aish is the most interested and vicious with the laser pointer. Except for the laser dot, though, she also seems to have the worst vision. We tend to agree that Rudy is easily the stupidest. He's also the oldest.
Lately, Rudy has taken to sleeping like a freaking log lately. Everyone in the house has noticed it. Sometimes, I really pay attention to make sure he's still breathing. Because when he's out, he is OUT.
Today, though, Rudy did something that surprised me, in terms of brain activity.
I was on my way to the restroom when Rudy zipped past me into the room. I told him, "You're not going to like this!" as I locked him in.
He walked around for a few minutes, kind of checking out everything in the room. Then he walked over to the wall and looked up to where I have a beach towel hanging up. He stretched out up the wall and started scratching at it. After a few moments, his claw caught the bottom of the towel and he started pulling.
Quickly, he had the towel on the ground. Then he made a nest out of it and plopped down.
It's like he knew he was going to be in there for a hot minute, and he wanted to get comfortable. Maybe he's not as dumb as we think he is?
James and I have been "together" for more than ten years now.
Waiting for the bats to come out, September 2012
When we first started dating, and for a couple of years after we got married, we had a lot of differences and issues that we had to work through in order to have a functional relationship. We always liked each other, and we always loved each other, but that didn't mean it was easy. We just wanted it to work enough that we were willing to work.After that, though, we just had a rhythm. Yes, we had minor disagreements and misunderstandings. But those were just blips in what was otherwise a pretty protracted honeymoon period.
This summer, everything changed. Like a complete shifting of the ground beneath our feet. We still love each other. We still like each other. We still want it to work, so we're putting in the work. But, dang, it is hard. It's been hard for months. It's going to continue to be hard for months.
I hurt James, and knowing that I've done anything other than bring him joy and happiness is absolutely gut-wrenching. His struggle to love me even while being extremely angry is both admirable and hard to watch. At the same time, I'm hurting and mad because I feel like what I did was the only thing I *could* do, and there doesn't seem to be any room for me to be cared for in my own hurt because I'm not grieving and James is. And I love him, and I know it's just a season so I'm not building up any resentments... but what I'm telling you is that it's rough, and sitting in discomfort isn't my strong suit.
Where this becomes different from any other major life shake-up I've had before is this: James and I have an otherwise healthy relationship. I've had huge overhauls in my reality before, but it was typically after months or years of toxicity and estrangement. When something devastating happened, it was easy enough to "paper over" is because there wasn't much to fix and I had turned off caring long before that as a means of protecting myself.
Fighting to love someone and stay present when they're also the source of your pain is a huge undertaking. We both know our family is worth it. It continues to be a daily battle.
Here's what I know, on my side: I love James with all of my heart. I want to see our kids up and out of the house together. I want to empty nest with him. I want to go on long, aimless road trips together and notice silly out-of-the-way things that make us smile. I want us to be able to go out to a restaurant in the middle of the day and not have to worry about getting back to work or finishing up because our kid is getting bored. I want a future where we look back on this time and can see that we're somehow better and stronger for it. This is what keeps me getting out of bed and trying again every morning.
They say that the days are long but the years are short. It never feels like that when it's happening.
It's only when I look back at these pictures of times that I can remember so vividly that it rings true.
So many things have changed in the world and in our lives since D was born in 2001. I couldn't have imagined them all, and honestly, I wouldn't have wanted to know some of the things.
There have been ridiculously good times; magical, wonderful, heady times. And there have been tears; so many tears.
I've known D their whole life, but every time our lives change, it's like we have to get to know ourselves and each other all over again.
The past few years, in particular, have been... well, I suppose as typical as can be expected with a neuro-atypical person becoming an adult, coming into themselves, and individuating from their parents.
But the teenage years are hard, under the best of circumstances. I am aware that as hard as I tried, D didn't experience the best of circumstances.
But I love this young adult "kid" every bit as much as I loved the mischievous, opinionated, smart, motivated child in these pictures.
I am proud of how D has handled the difficulties, internal and external, that they have had in growing up.
I am proud of how D has always had a keen sense of who they are and how they haven't been willing to alter that much at all in order to "fit in."
D has taught me so much about what it means to walk around as a decent human being, and has forced me over and over again to accept uncomfortable truths and to see the world in a more open manner.
Happy birthday to my 21-year-old kiddo. It is with absolute confidence and joy that I am watching you grow into your dreams and goals. Love you so much.
(After this, D didn't much like having pictures taken, so I have been respectful of it. Here's this year's cake, though...)
There is a slightly older gentleman who came into my life when I was 12 years old, and who has had, outside of my father, the most meaningful impacts on my life. I will never forget when I first realized that we were going to be something special...
When my sister and I were in elementary school, we had to go over to someone's house after school for the 45 minutes to an hour before my mom got home from the school where she taught. In 6th grade, that house belonged to our caddy-corner neighbor, Eugene Kersh.
It was toward the end of the school year, in early 1984, that we were eating popcorn and throwing it to Eugene's doberman (who would snatch it out of the air) when Eugene put on the 45 (RMP record, for you youngsters) for "Weird Al" Yankovic's "Eat It." Of course, I had heard that song on the radio. It was pretty funny, and a dead-on spoof of Michael Jackson's iconic "Beat It." When that was finished, he turned the record over to the B side and... "We all used to call him 'Jimmy the Geek.' He was a dumb-looking, scrawny little four-eyed freak. He never used to hang around with the guys; he'd just sit in the corner attracting the flies..." The catchy little tune went on to talk about Jimmy's many social foibles but how he had one redeeming quality: He could dance. By the end of the song, he's living the dream with his own TV show and tons of attention. Something about this original song with its tight lyrics and silly mental picture caught me. I wanted to hear more of it.
It took a while for me to save up some money to get a tape player (or maybe I got one for Christmas), but by the next year, I had my very on boom box. And the first tape I remember buying to play on it was "Weird Al in 3-D," which had both of those songs on it, as well as a send-up of the Rocky theme "Eye of the Tiger," some other parodies that got radio play (mostly on Dr. Demento's Sunday night show), a couple more great originals, and the first of his smash-up polkas I ever heard: Polkas on 45.
I distinctly remember thinking that the combinations of pop songs (not all au courant, but recent enough that I knew of most of them) was extremely entertaining. I played the song for my mom, who suggested that I play the song for my aunt Norma, who might find it more amusing than she did.
After that, I bought every new Weird Al-bum that came out. I would often pop a tape into my Walkman and go to bed listening to the songs. "Slime Creatures from Outer Space" was one of my favorites. Thinking about listening to it in the cool dark of a winter night gives me extreme nostalgia in a way that little else does (maybe watching "Scarecrow and Mrs. King").
You've probably noticed this about me, but in case I need to state the obvious: I don't think about the world the same way a lot of people do. I find myself often wondering, "Sorry, am *I* the crazy one here?" And we probably all know the answer to that question. But something about bopping along to "Everything You Know is Wrong" helped me feel more centered, and more like I wasn't the only one who was, to be super corny and on-the-nose about it, weird.
Tonight, I was lucky enough to score a free pass to go see "Weird," a movie that is allegedly about the life of Alfred Yankovic (although it isn't; not the real version, anyway) that I suspect was borne out of this joke trailer from Funny or Die almost 10 years ago.
I haven't been able to make it to his past couple of concerts... the doors open so late, and there's usually an opener.. and, yeah, since I have a little who doesn't sleep a lot, I'm a giant wimp about it.
The first Weird Al show I attended was in Las Vegas at the Hard Rock Hotel and Casino in 1996. I remember waiting in line at the box office to get tickets the day they went on sale (this was before internet ticket sales!) and assuming that everyone else in line was doing the same thing. Then the guy in front of me asked, "Who are you going to see?" I told him and he looked surprised. "Are you kidding?" he asked. "No! He's awesome. I'm so excited!" The guy just shook his head and turned around. Whatever.
I saw another show in Las Vegas at the now-demolished Aladdin Hotel and Casino in 1998 or 1999. Then when I lived in North Texas, I saw him in Austin at the FunFunFun Fest in 2010. A year or so later, a couple of friends and I went to see him in Dallas at the Nokia Theater. Then in October 2013, James, D, and I went to Tulsa for the 25th anniversary of UHF. They had a day tour of filming sites, and then a concert in the evening. That was a lot of fun.
Pretty soon, we'll be at 40 years of fandom, and so far, this is one dude who hasn't let me down. So I'm looking forward to rubbing elbows with fellow freaks this evening.
