Pillow Fights

You have been on a jag for pillow fights for the past few months; I knew I was really sick when I couldn't get up to play with you.

Even last night, a rare night when you & your dad were alone & I was home, you were eager to start a pillow fight. Then it was a little too fierce, and you agreed we were both tired. And we stopped.

But then I heard you crying, you hardly cry anymore. You had been playing with your dad, and you hit your head/eye on the edge of the couch.

This morning you had a shiner. And we played with this Wizard guy & Zombie. After you read your book.

You are growing up!!

Tiny Pieces of Evidence That I Will Miss

Obscene banana

Just for documentary purposes.

I think you'd laugh when you see this as a grownup.

You like to shock me by talking about wieners.

I took the bad banana away and gave you another one to draw on.

Your father was napping in the Drum Room. We heard drumming & imagined he was drumming in his sleep.

I couldn't find drawing paper (because I'm packing & have been sick, so everything's a mess)

Banana has been your favorite word for a while now.

When your Dad woke up, he said "I've never seen anyone do Banana Art". He says that about most of what I do, which I assume is a compliment.

Had a dream where I defended a friend of mine, he had lots of artistic projects going on. None of which were making money.

Sounds too familiar.

I wrote back to the Venus theater festival , confirming that I wouldn't have my show in the lineup for April.

Lately I've been trying to be better about telling people why I can't di something or go out with them (because I've been tortured by not being hired & by L, who told me to "be patient" instead of the opposite)

The real reasons:
I saw their Holocaust show (it was AWFUL!!)
Not a group I want to be identified with
Also
I don't have enough of a support group
I don't have the $$
I don't have the support system of the apt that I'd need for rehearsals/meetings
I can't host my Mom during the performances. (She never comes to NYC, but she actually seemed excited to come)

Glad not to do it, but if everything was still the same, I coulda done it& been proud!!

Banana Art

You arrived back home on this Saturday night, after your Feb vacation.

Knocked on my door & then went into the bathroom, knowing I'd be a minute. (Especially because I've been sick in bed for the past 2 weeks with a cold)

"No offense, but your voice still sounds bad"

Then you looked up "Dont mine at night" a Katy Perry (she's Portuguese !!) spoof involving Minecraft. Then another one which was a Bruno Mars spoof of the same.

Your father mentioned a colleague who left to join the educational arm of Minecraft. And then bemoaned the fact that he wasn't a successful app billionaire. We have had that exact conversation repeatedly, so after giving him some pity, I left the room.

A came home, so I left the room, too sick to try to be nice to everyone in the noise & confusion.

For a while, with you, I was actually having fun again.

That's what I was hoping for when I first moved in. A place, an opportunity to play with a kid. I wonder how much easier things would have been for me, your father (even A) if things hadn't moved so fast.

Ah well, things happen as they do, and I've had a lot of fun sitting on the floor doing art with you. Every minute.

Everything else is just complaining & what ifs.

Shopping List for Santa 2011?

Valentine Cards

Valentine's Day, 2014

Sometimes I look around my room and everything look new to me.  Or it looks like a life I don't quite recognize.  (Which I kind of love actually)

Not that the bed is in a new corner, or that I'm sleeping turned around, which it is and I do.  But I wake up and I seem to forget the angst of last week.  Or Hurricane Irene and going shopping with Amber for some alcohol which I never drank and some chips for Henri down the hall (who died last July). I don't remember L, or that summer of your Mom's whirlwind or what I did yesterday or the BeatlesFest last weekend of what I did for Christmas or Pricker or the story book that we created together.

I look at the green couch and the carved chest filled with your father's camping gear. The lamp and the bedstand and the built in closet and the desk with the broken leg that I will all leave behind.  L helped me carry that desk in.  He saw me get it from the trash right outside the courtyard.  He saw me struggling and called from his window, "Do you need help?" and I said no, like I always do.  And he nodded, the way he does, and said "You need help," which was so wonderful at the time.  So simply wonderful, for him to swoop in and carry it gracefully inside, all the way in, to exactly my room.  My first visitor.  All I had to do was hold doors for him, and it was easy. (It would've been such a struggle for me to do it by myself, as everything is.  When I try so hard to keep to myself and rely on myself.)  He got lost, leaving the apartment.  Opened up the closet in the front hall.  Swung his blonde Peter Tork hair, and I thought "How amazing it is to have such gracious and handsome neighbors here,"

And that seems so long ago.

Your mother made love on her birthday.  She's going through some emotional hormonal stuff, menopause and such.  And there's her show this weekend.  The Vagina Monologues.  I donated some Mousetraps for the art gallery in the lobby. I showed you, 3D, strung on fishing wire in a tin pan, layered.  You liked it.  3D.

This week for me has been all fever dreams and haze.  I've been in bed since Monday (and I'm writing this on Friday night).  I've been coughing and I have no sense of smell or taste.  You've been waking me up every morning at 7:30, pillow in hand, wanting me to play pillow fight with you.  I haven't had the energy & haven't been able to breathe.  I'd go to the bathroom, I saw you seeing me in my nightgown, braless (and wonder what memories of me will stick in your mind).  I fell into bed every day this week, barely conscious of anything.

I had an invite to an Anti-Valentine's Day party tonight in NJ, but I don't have the energy.  Or to go to your Mom's performance.  (And I've been looking forward to it for a month!) I've never had a happy valentine's day.  Earlier this week, I did stumble out into the living room to see you beginning to make cards for A.  And your Mom.  I wouldn't have minded so much, except that you were using some papers & markers that I had given to you.  (Okay, I mind.  I wish that you had made me a Valentine.  I would've kept it.  I try to keep everything you do.)

A. threw out all her Valentine's Cards she got from her students.  Tossed them all in the recycling bin. 7.

I'm moving on to a new place.  Where I will be loved.  And surrounded by people who support me.  (I've never really relaxed into your dad's family. Although today he did let me have some chicken soup, but I had to ask)

I will tell you that this apartment is so lovely when it is so quiet.  But that's part of my personality.  I like the quiet above all.  (Usually I like to sing when noone is around.  But my voice sounds very cartoony now.  Even though I'm not really talking.  I cough every 5 minutes)

I see you growing up here. And there will be a baby eventually (even though I suspect, not quite yet). I wonder if you will miss my Mousetraps.

Where Have All The Flowers Gone

“I’m gonna tell you something my Dad told me and he told me not to tell anybody”

He whispered out of the side of his mouth and covered his face with his hand.

“That’s gonna be the baby’s room!”

“Do you want a boy or a girl?”

“I don’t know”

Yesterday, after a lovely playing session, Pete Seeger on the radio (remembering him, still, I cried during “Where Have All The Flowers Gone”) and hearing “Turn, Turn, Turn”

Out by the end of the month.

Ugh.  

===

“I was sorry you weren’t here for the party yesterday.   We had pizza and drank every time there was a commercial. We went to Chinatown, and red is good luck in Chinese, so when we played (spin the tail on the donkey) get the football in the goal, I got it in everytime”

==
(Have you noticed that they NEVER invited me to anything?)

I posted on FB that I needed a room and your Dad freaked out (mostly because I think your Mom tried to fight for me in an email).  He sent me a bunch of texts where he tried to do the best he could to yell at me.  He gives me 26 days to leave a place I've been living for almost 2.5 years (October 2011, 2012, 2013 and now).  "How could you make it PUBLIC?" He was talking down to me for not knowing where to go.  ("I'm SADDENED that this should unsettle you so much" self-righteous bastard. And then he talks abut how he wanted someone who would work 9 to 5.  But I am flexible enough to drop you off or pick you up.  He got me, and as much as he is happy for me when I have an artisitc success, he wants me to go to off to a job like him.  Meanwhile, I do online work, but that's another story.  Not that he listens)

He always freaks out.  Over everything.  I never know when he is serious because he YELLS all the time.  I hear him in the morning, in the bathroom, he drops something and it's like he's broken his foot. Every morning.  Somethings I will not miss.  He texted me about how furious he was when I am the one who is suddenly homeless.  (When we had last even MENTIONED the subject, after he had proposed, I TOLD HIM I was willing to move out closer to the wedding.  He said fine, and with the honeymoon, September 2014.  I said maybe June.  A said "Its WEEKS" and shrugged, like nothing was the matter.  There's a nice way to do things, and a shitty way.  They did it the shitty way.)

I tried to have a "talk" today, with both him and her in the room (because A always seems to leave when I enter the room).

Have you heard of "gaslighting", there's a movie, where a husband convinces his wife she is going crazy.  He's the one who controls reality, bends it to his will.

Now, I don't mind coming off as neurotic or wanting to "be liked" by them, especially if it gets me a few extra weeks here (I have a friend who can take me by April 8, but not before).  I am aware of what I am doing, trying to give in to get what I want (I want to not be homeless in the immediate future).  I am also trying to be nice in the face of two people who do not care about me (except for how I can serve them as a possible babysitter).

Note to the future you: live with people who at least pretend to care about you. (I prefer to be on my own & would rather live with people who are slightly indifferent to me)

I was going to produce a play that I had written at Cabrini Rep at the end of April, but they don't seem to care about that (it was something that made me ridiculously happy a few weeks ago, but now it's just a huge responsibility).  And there's an Art Show (the Scrolls).

Maybe things will be negotiable? (She's not "showing") I think she's just eager to start redecorating.  And maybe have her mom stay over.  Whatever.  She's quiet and leaves the room instead of talking to me.

They both said that there's a change in your behavior when I enter the room.  You do voices or show-off or whatever. And they also said I come in putting on a really happy face in the morning (overly cheery).  Whatever.  I think I'm just saying hello, but that's too much for them.  I spend the rest of my time out of their way, out or hiding in my room.  Today an art show closing I was planning to attend at Boricua (Intermarried), was cancelled bc of the snowstorm!  And so, I've been in my room since 5, since they got home.

You were brushing your toothbrush and singing.  (Sometimes you make loud noises, to see if I'll come to my door.  I'm afraid to talk to you too much, your Dad will yell that I'm keeping you up.  Whatever.  You're a great, funny kid)

I'm missing you already.

In the mornings now, you are supposed to be big enough to walk to the bus stop by yourself.  Even your father isn't sure if this is legal, and he has no idea how much Dagny's mom resents it.  Even when he could trade off on taking a group of kids to school, he never would. He's blindly selfish and inconsiderate in cases.  Intensely focused on what he's doing, paying little regard to the feelings of other people (although I hope this is different in your case.)  He still yells at you.  A lot.  More than he should.

This morning, we did some art.  We drew dragons, step by step.  And then owls.  I took a picture of mine, but you were smart and took yours to school (hiding the evidence).

I wish I could have read more books to you before bedtime.

Open the door!!!

Turn Turn Turn

"Goodnight, Tammy"

"Goodnight, Tammy"

You knocked and pushed the door open (I think you can see that I'm sitting on the green couch, when I sit with the light on).  The door gets swollen and hard to shut when it is cold outside and overly hot in the apartment.  It was a sweet thing, your father tends to think you are trying to stall, or that you are bothering me.  You are the most fun person I know and it was good to say good night.

When I first saw you this morning, your Dad & you were bundling up to go sledding in Ft Tryon Park (with, what's that kid's name?) I was going downtown to drop off some art for your Mom's theater show.

I saw you a few hours later, I was coming back and you guys were all going out. (Seems like the only time we see each other!) You were going on a tour of Superbowl Blvd, and then I guess you guys went to Whole Foods.

Your father came back & struggled with getting the internet to work (he's easily stressed!) and you and I played for a while.  I have bags of "stuff", I am a bit of a packrat, saving bits and pieces for us to play with.  Found cardboard bits, discounted bolts of cloth, tupperware containers from restaurants. You unwrapped a purple velvet long piece and I found a sheer golden one.  You are obsessed with things having powers, I declared sun and fire power, you said yours was a dark laser.

We were doing magic tricks, clumsily hiding folded up Post-Its between our fingers.  I showed you a trick where I had one hiding in my mouth, and tried to show that I moved it from my hand into my mouth.  You liked it a lot and wanted to show your dad; he was (overly) stressed and was trying to get you to eat dinner.

This last week was maybe the last time I walked you to the bus (he's just tired of paying).  Had you stay home alone while he went out with Amber.  As an "experiment".  You watched TV ("What's the problem?")

You can handle it.  (Even though when you first went out to meet Dagny & her Mom on the street, you panicked and buzzed to be let back up instead of just waiting.  But you are cool with it.  (I'm just sad to see you don't NEED me as much, and you are now being instructed to "pretend" I'm not home.  Less time together will be sad for me.

Your Mom asked if I knew of any rooms in the hood which might be available.  I wanted to say, this one.  I want to be out by summer, maybe April. I'd volunteer to move in with her, (to see more of you, frankly) but I can't trust her . . . (although I do love her as a friend, dearly). She broke up with Phil and I wonder how she's doing-mental health wise. Seems okay & stable.  I hope she stays that way.

The old man (Henri) down the hall, the one with the walker and the bad scoliosis, died last July.  I just found out by asking another neighbor (Mar--/Mer--??).

I had a realization that L might be dead too.  (He is, for all I know. We used to see him with his dog sometimes.  And his car parked outside.  But if his car isn't there . . . Is it bad to say I'm glad?  That I've filled my life with words and worlds apart from him.  And how much room that someone who is Bipolar takes up in your life.  How much room he and your Mom took over from me that summer.  Glad to have my own space in my head.)

This had been a perfect moment here, these past few years, I don't want it to end.  I don't want your Dad to get married, because then I'll leave.  And you'll be alone, more alone with them.  Even worse when they have a kid. I want you to always be able to turn to me.  Especially for pillow fights and making art.
I'm so glad you aren't a brat!!