Five Years.

For more than five years, I’ve hand-washed my dishes, but only the last five years were in my mom’s house. She passed in 2011, and I moved into her house a couple months later. It didn’t have an automatic dishwasher.

When I went into contract on this house, I could not wait to close and move in. Because I would not have to hand-wash dishes. (Well, other reasons too… SO MANY REASONS, but I digress.) As the closing drew near, Every time I would stand at the sink in the old house — what I now call the frEakin house — I would say to myself, <i>I won’t have to do this at my new house…</i>

Fast forward a bit to the present, I have tried using the dishwasher. I have tried 2 or 3 different kinds of detergent and rinsing agents, but still, I find that I end up hand-washing multiple items that don’t appear clean after they go through the cycle. They had what looked like dried up soap on them, especially the spoons. So I decided that I would just hand-wash the dishes and use the dishwasher as a giant drying rack. I’d put all the dishes I washed right in there, but… well, when I’d close it up, it would smell slightly moldy when I reopened it. New plan: hand wash the dishes, and then run them through the rinse and dry cycles. We’ll see how that goes.

But yeah… five years next month since my mom died. I miss her, of course. I really miss having THAT ONE PERSON who was just always on my side, who I knew would always love me, no matter what an asshole I am. The one who’d always be there for me. I miss having that go-to person. I know she’d be so proud of me, buying this house on my own.

Last weekend, as I began getting sick, I lay in bed one night, unable to sleep in spite of my exhaustion. That is when the mind goes to strange places, you know, and I started to question why my mom was gone, and my dad isn’t. My mom was no saint, but she wasn’t a pathological-lying, child-molesting piece-of-shit. Only the good die young? That thought seriously fucks with me, like maybe I need to asshole it up if I intend to outlive everyone. Is that how it works? I certainly hope not. I’m enough of an asshole as it is, ha.

Speaking of being sick, this morning I felt more like myself than I did the day before. I cleared out some ick from my chest and sinuses, but by afternoon, my energy was tapped out. So I’m still sick, but better. But definitely not 100%. My son though seems to have recovered almost completely. He’s upstairs bouncing on his bed. I need to go get him tucked in for the night; since he’s been sick, he put himself to bed each night. I guess that’s over.

He goes to his dad’s after school tomorrow, so I won’t see him until Monday. I’m going to the Renaissance Festival with my posse on Saturday. On Sunday, my boyfriend and I will be doing some demo in the kitchen. (Demolition, not demonstration, ha.) He’s so excited to put a hammer in my hand; maybe he wants me to take out my frustration with him on the wall, ha. He’s so considerate.

That’s my kid-free weekend plan. It’s no wonder I’m still not done unpacking.