The Caramels’ eyes have opened! All are blue at the moment, which is normal for babies, but I fully expect their eyes to change to greens and ambers in the next few weeks. I’m still gobsmacked these three have made it. Jack has been an enormous help with them. He sleeps like I do, once asleep he doesn’t move for the whole night. I was able to have the kittens sleep with him on my graveyard shifts and Jack kept them warm and feed like a pro. My son is amazing.
Money is going to be a little tight the rest of the month. I put Jack’s big present on layaway and it cost more than I thought it would. Worth it.
Something strange is going on at work again. I would swear the place is haunted, but I’ve checked. No graveyard ground for miles and no deaths on record. Yet I get the feeling I’m being watched. Our dragon guard has puffed up in a defensive mantle at random, like he can feel something there that shouldn’t be, but I’d investigate and nothing was there. Maybe it’s something that appears at random.
I think it’s coming from the closed up center island. The protective bag I stuffed in there might not be strong enough, or the thing in there is something I don’t have the ability to ward against. Maybe I’m just paranoid. Graveyard shifts are an apropos name for a reason.
The late post is entirely due to the dual issues of mom and the new kittens.
I’m sad to note we started with six, but are now down to three. Jack dubbed the surviving litter the Caramels. The three we lost were to pneumonia that first night we had them. I don’t know how we managed to save the remaining three, but we did. Maple, Cinnamon, and Sunspot are wriggly little balls of orange-brown fluff with an unrivaled appetite I’d expect in a bigger cat. They’re surviving with constant care, so that helps. On a side note, I’ve found I have an unfortunate talent for digging small holes very fast. I don’t ever want to use it again.
Mom is healing. Her pissy attitude about this isn’t helped by any sweetening spell I know, or Angie knows, and she’s driving us crazy. I think my sister has been seriously tempted to poison her dinner a couple of times. I’m awed by Angie’s ability to refrain from doing so. There’s a reason I’m not cooking for Mom this week.
Jack is my saving grace. All the little things that make me calm he’s provided with an effortless smile and encouragement. He’s also taken on the task of helping Mom with her exercises, which has given me time to step back and breathe. The kitten cuddle is his favorite part though. When it’s time to feed the littles, he’ll sit with them in his lap and pet them while I feed and clean one. He’s a great person and I’m eternally grateful he’s my son.
I’m tired. But this too shall pass.
Nothing. Absolutely nothing happened last week. I sat in front of this damned thing and scratched my head over what to write, just to give up on writing anything.
This week, on the other hand, was busy.
It all started with a fall Mom had and ended up in the emergency room for surgery on her shoulder. Come to find out she tore muscles in her fall which had to be patched up. The doctor is blunt but nice, with a sense of humor so dry it could qualify as talcum powder. I think I’m gonna like him over the next few weeks of Mom’s recovery process.
Besides my sudden, strange, interest in this horror video game Jack plays, the same day as Mom’s surgery on of the neighbors found a caterwaul of abandoned kittens. He brought them to us because he’s very allergic. Me, Mom and Angie are known as the crazy cat ladies around here I found out. He figured we could nurse them. Angie has been taking care of the kittens while I’ve been handling Mom.
Jack thinks the new additions are the best thing ever because: “Mom, it’s like BAM! Surprise kittens.” My son in a nutshell. I love him to pieces. I have this feeling he’s the only one who’ll remind me to keep my head over the next month.
Speaking of, Halloween! Yay! My favorite time of the year, as cliche as it is. I don’t know what I’m going to dress as this year, but I have a feeling the kids will love it.
Do I really have thirty entries on this thing? Sometimes, when I add to thing journal thing, it feels like more. Other times it feels like less. Either way, there’s a catharsis happening here. Let’s see how another thirty entries go.
At the library a couple days ago, I came across a book on old apothecary recipes. Ones that work and I’m assuming that from the fact none of the recipes have a warning, in addition to a flip through the book. No dangerous ingredients that I found except for maybe navy-proof rum. A few look like they can be modified for spellwork, turned into potions or tinctures. It’s something new to concentrate on while Jack’s school does stupid shit.
That’s a whole other thing. Jack came home yesterday and told me they were changing his class. At first I thought they were moving him because of disciplinary issues and I was furious they moved him without warning or explanation. When he finally got me to understand what happen happened instead, I was in a towering rage over it.
Basically, they’re sending Jack’s teacher to a higher grade and sending his whole class to a new teacher, a month after school already starting. The parents weren’t notified, students weren’t warned, and even the teachers involved had no concrete information until last Friday. Admin knew though. They knew and said nothing.
I’m still breathing fire over this.
This week didn’t get any better. It didn’t get any better at all and I think I really need to look into better ways to petition Thor if this is what He thinks of my efforts. It started with a part-timer calling out sick while the boss is on vacation with the rest of us scrambling to cover for him.
That was the start of my work week.
The end of my work week had a woman drive onto my lot with her car engine on fire and park next to a gas pump. There was a mad scramble and the fire department had to be called. Good thing I was quick with a fire extinguisher. Good thing the fire extinguisher is kept up to code.
I’m just… exhausted by this week. Jack is at the ex’s until Friday. His unending well of positive energy would help a lot right now, because just being around him is a boost I could use, but I’ll have to make do until he’s home again.
Next week will hopefully be easier. At work anyway. Mom is still nagging me about everything that crosses her mind and Angie is doing her best to avoid being caught in the crossfire. Ugh.
I’m going to start petitioning to Thor, I swear it. After this week at my dreaded “day job”, I think I’m going to need all the help I can get.
It all started a few weeks back. The other overnighter has been unreasonably late since he started working there a couple years ago. My coworkers have complained about it for a long time, but until someone else could fill his shift, there wasn’t anything our boss could do.
Well, we finally found a full time overnighter. Ron, let’s call the perpetually late employee, was shifted to second shift and he was not happy. I’m of the honest opinion he won’t last more than a month on day shift. He was late yesterday for his first one.
And here is where I’ve decided to start praying to Thor. If Ron quits, it’ll be weeks before we can find another employee, weeks the rest of us will have to cover for this guy. The boss has already started looking, but who knows if we’ll get a new co-worker in time. The money would be nice, but this is a shit job without the extra hours. I don’t want to find out. Ugh.
I think I’m still alive. Maybe.
Jack was pretty horrified to come home with me in this condition. It took a lot of explaining and even more time reassuring him his grandma (probably) didn’t mean to poison me. Of course Jack wasn’t entirely convinced I was going to be fine, but now that I’m officially out of bed and back at work, he’s not worried anymore.
Mom isn’t sulking anymore either. She’s mentally swept the whole incident under the rug and pretends it didn’t happen. Her usual M. O. when something bad happens to one of us. As far as she’s concerned, our lives are always perfect and she is a perfect parent. Lies, but until I can get back on my feet and into a new place with Jack, we have to pretend with her.
I’ve figured out in life, though I hate it, sometimes one has to pretend everything’s fine for the peace. I just want to run, but there’s no way I can support Jack without help yet. I’m going to make up some calming sachets. Anything to compartmentalize this anger.
I’m sicker than my cat when he’s gotten into something he shouldn’t have. It’s been vomit volcano for three days straight and I’ve only felt well enough to venture out of bed this morning. I hate upset stomach. Well poisonings, at the very least.
And see, this is why I don’t like it when mom starts mixing up spells in the kitchen. She found some hex powder recipe she wanted to try out, on an old ex-boyfriend who has come back around and she hates, which had oleander in it, of all fucking things! She wants to use oleander in her work, fine, whatever. But she knows how bad she is about cleaning up the ingredients when she’s done. The last time this happened was with powdered ghost pepper all over the kitchen. It took me and Angie hours to clean it after a ruined lunch.
I’m lucky it was just me who ended up like this. Angie’s already cleaned the kitchen and given mom a stern dressing down. The old ax has been sulking the whole time I’ve been sick and won’t talk to either of us. Good thing too. I’d hate to choke on my own sick while I’m yelling at her. Holy shit. I’m still mad.
Mom’s lucky Jack wasn’t home.
I’m going back to bed. Ugh.
Color me surprised. I went to the lunch with Jack and the ex, and Jack was emphatic the change in visitation was his idea. I still don’t quite buy it but until I have proof otherwise, I can’t confront the issue. For now I’ll have to keep watchful eyes one situation. As many as I can enlist.
This is the first week of the new schedule and I don’t like it one bit. Jack being gone for a week at a time is fraying my nerves. I’ve petitioned Sehkmet to guard him while he’s away from me. She’s the fiercest Goddess I know, so I’m hoping She’ll be enough to keep him relatively safe. I’m just… Unhappiness. Unhappiness all the way around.
Otherwise, all is quiet in my world. Mom’s still grumpy, Angie’s still an asshole and I’m still here. Maybe I’ll take up proper meditation again, something to help with the listless feeling I have when Jack’s not home. Or murder. I guess it depends on which strikes my fancy first.
My skn is still itching. Nothing has manifested yet, but I can’t shake this feeling a change is on the horizon. It’s affecting my sleep with strange, disjointed dreams.
Jack started school Thursday. I kinda miss him being underfoot and I miss the time I spent teaching him about our Craft. Mom says that’s normal, that I should plan on smaller lessons until the breaks. She’s right, as much as I hate to say it, but I still miss our longer lessons. He does too. Burn out is a real thing though and I don’t want to overwhelm him between this and schoolwork. I’ll figure something out.
Speaking of, the ex wants to change Jack’s visitation schedule with him. Says Jack wants too as well. I really doubt that’s the truth, but we’re going to lunch tomorrow to talk about it. As always, I’ll follow Jack’s wishes on it and I won’t let his father bully him into some other choice. I’m not looking forward to this fight.