The results of an unofficial poll done in my head of all the people here I’ve spoken to reveal that the majority of people over a certain age, and even many who are younger, are still stuck in their mental ways of sticking their noses into other people’s bedrooms and forming negative opinions.  It’s just so much work caring about things that have nothing to do with you.  Phobia indicates a fear.  What on earth is there to be afraid of?!?  Do they think it’s contagious?  Is it a virus that’s spread the moment you vow to mind your own business?  Don’t Catch The Gay!  Come on.  Come on.  The only time it makes any difference in anyone’s life whether or not a person is homosexual, bisexual, transsexual, or even *GASP* straight, is if you ARE that person.  My sexual orientation or your sexual orientation or anyone’s sexual orientation is my business, your business, and their business, alone.

A few words on Tolerance and Intolerance:  THERE IS NOTHING TO TOLERATE.  The word “tolerate” sounds to me like it would be something unpleasant to which you’ve simply grown accustomed.  Let’s explore:

tol·er·ate/ˈtäləˌrāt/

These are my spoils from Mother’s Day.  Bossypants, the Game Of Thrones boxed set, and Y: The Last Man Deluxe Edition, Book One.  Also Smarties and Toffifee and a certificate and some beautiful artwork and a princess house made from a shoebox that Avery made for herself about six months ago, but I’m not supposed to know that.  The certificate says “My Mom is special because she reads to me and she helqs me ried my biek,” which is a 100% true story.

I’ve only just decided that I like comics.  I mean, I’ve always read comics, of the back-of-the-paper variety, a few dailies online, and that sort of thing, but until recently, I hadn’t read an actual comic book.  And then one day, after watching this season’s The Walking Dead, I wanted to know more.  I wanted to KNOW ALL OF THE THINGS.  I wanted to know who Michonne was and why her appearance was so significant.  I wanted to know what happens next.  I wanted to know what parts they’d left out and what parts they’d stayed true.  So I bought the first Compendium.  One thousand and eighty-eight pages worth of comics.  And you know what?  I really dig comics.  I know I’ve only read a portion of one series and that hardly makes me any sort of expert…so I’m going to read more.  I didn’t know how I’d feel about reading a book with pictures, but I love the format and I’m going to continue to find stories and series’ that interest me and sort of get into this comic book thing.

It’s because of the same curiosity that I had about The Walking Dead that I asked for the Game Of Thrones series.  I want to know more.  I want to compare and contrast and learn what they haven’t told us.  I also want to read Fire In The Hole by Elmore Leonard, which is the short story that inspired Justified, and the Southern Vampire Mysteries,which brought us True Blood.

And…um…Bossypants because I love Tina Fey and I heard it was good.  I actually rarely read biographies, but I thought I’d make an exception for Tina.

I can’t think of a better Mother’s Day gift than a book and I got six.  It was a good day.  When I woke up, a little late, I was presented with my bounty and serenaded with Happy Mother’s Day to the tune of Happy Birthday by my two adorable chitlins.  But then we spent the rest of the day doing hard manual labour, just like the day before.  I baked for the entire morning, then ran around frantically getting the house ready to host dinner, and assisted AH in assembling the World’s Shoddiest Patio Set (brand new).  And then I collapsed in a heap of exhaustion.  Ahahahahhaahah, just kidding.  I actually stayed awake for thewhoooooolenight thinking because apparently I don’t need sleep anymore.  It’s my super power.  Every mother needs one.

***

What I require from you (homework time!): Help me get started in this comic adventure.  What should I read next?  I have Fables in my Amazon wishlist because it looks pretty awesome.  What else?  I’m hesitant to read the typical Marvel/DC comics because they’ve been around for so long that I think it would take me a lifetime to catch up thoroughly.  But what else can you suggest?  Enquiring minds want to know.

Last night, while I was giving them a bath, they were loud, splashing each other (out of anger; it wasn’t a game), soaking the entire washroom, and not listening to me when I was asking them to calm down.  I repeated in my head “they’re just kids, they’re just kids, they’re just kids”, I even tried to remind myself that they’re just NORMAL kids, and that every NORMAL kid behaves this way, even once in a while, but it didn’t work.  I was so frustrated and annoyed that I had tears in my eyes.

And here, I’d like to remind myself, in print, that Eirinn and Avery are absolutely not bad kids.  They’re going through a phase.  Their ages and learning and social development has reached a point that conflict comes fast and easy.  Eirinn does things Avery wishes she could do, Avery wants to play games Eirinn has lost interest in, and neither are mature enough to know how to resolve these arguments rationally or independently.  They’re six and three and both Alpha Females.  Neither child will bend and take a passive role.  They fight because that’s what their animal instinct tells them to do when they don’t get their own way.  It’s survival and they haven’t learned yet how else to deal with their frustration.  Deep down, I am both proud and extremely grateful I have two daughters who will, no doubt, be strong, strong, forces to be reckoned with and while a parent always worries about their child, these two won’t let anyone push them around.  If these two can kick my ass on a daily basis before they’ve even come close to double digits, they’ll be just fine as adults. 

For a few months, I had been taking Omega-3 Calm and a pretty strong B-complex because I had read it helps with mood balance.  I’m not sure if it was helping or not, but it wasn’t not helping.  But then, when I started having skin troubles, which began at about the time I had started with the Omega and Bs, I asked Google if they might be connected.  Google told me that it wasn’t likely, but it was possible, so I stopped.  Like I said, if they were helping, it wasn’t a dramatic change, so I chose the chance to look better over the chance to feel better.  This is just a theory, because I tend not to go to a doctor and actually ask the advice of a well-trained professional unless I’m actively dying, but that was about two weeks ago.  My skin has improved, again, not dramatically, but enough that I notice, but here we are with my mood.  Obviously, something’s off.  Maybe they were helping me more than I had noticed.  Maybe I hadn’t noticed how much they were helping me because, before, I hadn’t had the added stress of this apparent Kill My Sister And Anyone Within Earshot phase to also deal with. 

Maybe.

This morning I took two Omega-3 capsules and one B-complex.  I’m going to take two more Omega’s with dinner.  I’m going to follow the recommended dosage to the letter.  After seeing and experiencing and living the choice I made, I now chose to feel better.  If mental and emotional health is what I have to sacrifice to look better, then forget it.  Not worth it.

We’ll see if this works.  If it does, then I’ll continue doing what I’m doing.  If not, then I’ll try something else.  It has to get better than this.

I’ve felt lately like all I’ve done is make mistakes.  Poor decisions, inappropriate reactions, and mistakes.  I’ve been going too fast or too slow or not at all, backward when I should have gone forward, looked down when I should have kept my head up, lost in my own thoughts when I should have been listening, yelling instead of speaking.  I’ve been angry, just angry, and I have no idea why.  Perhaps out of frustration from all the mistakes, from the fog I’ve been in, from the endless reasons to question myself.  Perhaps something else or nothing else.  Who knows.  I’m just an angry person right now and that, in itself, is a mistake.  I’m wasting so much time being upset at myself, at my kids, at strangers, at no one. 

I don’t know what I want, what I think would help, or what would make me happy.  Superficial band aids haven’t cured it – I’ve continued my bathroom exercise routine, my skin seems to be improving, my closet is shiny with new, beautiful things.  Pretty new front doors, a lovely patio set, the prospect of vacations, an endless mountain of Easter chocolate.  Everything brightens me up momentarily and then something else happens, the kids get in a fight or I remember something important I’d forgotten to do or there’s some undesirable chore needing to be tended to, and I’m right back to frustrated. 

And, to clarify, this is not PMS.

I really am trying my best to push this all down, to swallow this and maintain a shiny, happy exterior, but, once again, I’m failing.  I’m so short with my kids.  Granted, they’re going through some phase wherein their sole purpose in life is to simultaneously kill each other with fists and fury and also everyone else with exploding brain aneurysms.  They’re not listening, they’re constantly at each other’s throats, and I don’t remember what their regular speaking voice sounds like because it’s been replaced with an eardrum-piercing whine noise.  The house is a disaster because the only time I would have to actually tidy – there is a mountain of unfolded clean laundry in every bedroom in the house – is when they’re asleep, and so I constantly feel this weighty, yet unmotivational, guilt that, ONCE AGAIN, I’m failing at something domestic.  Have I told you about my gardens?  Oh, I’ll save that for another day.

I guess today is just one of those ‘feel sorry for myself’ days.  Maybe it’s the gloomy weather.  Maybe it’s that I didn’t get enough sleep.  Maybe it’s that I started my day with a shreaking child interrupting my shower because she was hungry and when I asked for her to give me some privacy, she abliged by shutting the door, laying on the floor outside the bathroom, and kicking the door until I shut the water off.  Maybe it’s because she threw another fit because I wouldn’t let her wear a nightgown as clothing.  But maybe it’s none of those things.

I don’t know.

I don’t know, but I’ve got to sack up and fix this.  Somehow.

::watches all the men turn and run out the door::

*shrug*

Anyway, I don’t.  I’m 32 years old and I wash my face with what I assume is meant for teenagers.  That is, when I haven’t run out and just use whatever’s in the shower that will foam.  Bar soap, liquid soap.  I’ve been known to use shampoo on occasion.  It’s the worst when I’ve run out of facial cleanser (that’s fancy grown up lady-person talk for face soap) AND I’ve run out of my regular soap and I have to use AH’s soap, so I spend the rest of the day smelling like I rubbed my face in a man’s armpit.  A fresh, clean armpit, but a manly armpit, nonetheless.

I have that sort of skin that can’t decide whether it’s pubescently unruly or not.  But mostly yes.  I still get blemishes on a regular basis, I have a wickedly oily t-zone, and blackheads are embarrassingly rampant.  In the past few months, it’s gotten worse, little by little, and so I started a treatment program to attempt to deal with the situation.  I got a foaming cleanser, a blackhead clearing mask, moisturizer, and a medicated topical cream and went at it.  A week in and I can say that there are definitely fewer blemishes and blackheads, my pores are much smaller, my t-zone isn’t greasy anymore, and that right there is part of the problem.  I’ve gone and dried out my face entirely.  We’re talking raisin here, which, for a woman Of A Certain Age, is worrisome, given my proximity to the wrinkle-growing stage of my life.

Now, because I finally, for the first time in a very, very long time, seem to have skin which doesn’t break out at the mere suggestion of natural body oils, I’m at a loss.  Obviously, I need to ease up, either I cut back on the frequency with which I combine any of my medicated cleansers et al, or use just one at a time, or something.  And, obviously, I need to find a good moisturizer.

Wow.  I am BORING myself right now.  I’ve never cared about things like skin care before and the only reason I do right now is because my face is literally flaking off my skull and I can’t be sure, but I don’t think that’s supposed to happen.  But whatever.  This was a waste of a post and a waste of your time, if you’ve lasted this long.  I apologize.  I have a very small life and the things to talk about are few and far between.

But, if you’re still awake, if you have any suggestions for formerly oily, blemish-prone, currently dry-as-a-bag-of-hay, blemish-prone skin, I’d be grateful.

Thank you, come again.