Honestly? I came here today to get rid of my diary. But I've been sitting here (trying to start this other journal that Jeff and I have been wanting to collaborate on for a while. If you're interested in the address, let me know) and thinking about this big knotted mess that is my family and wanting to talk about it, but not with people, and so. The diary lives another day.

I guess it's inevitable that having a kid makes me reflect rather more than usual on my own childhood experience and my parent's parenting. I am quite prone to ye olde navel gazing as it is and having all this time with just me and baby Oz has exacerbated this tendency. That, and we've had two of my brothers and my dad living with us for most of the past month (working on the new house over yonder). I also just got back from a quickie trip to Florida with Ossie to visit my mother. And friends. It's all excessively sad to me. Hell. The honest truth is that my mother is really a fucked up, sad sad sad person. For pretty much all of my life she has been the one person I trusted and believed in above all others. It turns out she's an utter fraud. That's quite the revelation of the year, my pretties. My mom seems to have an almost pathological fear of being abadoned. Therefore. Well, therefore a whole host of fuckedupedness in my family. It makes me sick, some of it. Here I was, planning to get it all out, and it turns out I can't write it down. I feel too disloyal. That, and where to start? When I was a kid hearing from her all about what a jerk my dad was? Watching her meanness toward Shawn? Her groveling toward Jeff? It's all so trite and pathetic and it's my mom, you know? I can't. I just can't. Enough.

The good thing about having my dad here for so long, though, is learning how much he totally rocks.

Dan, by the way, is beyond any salvation. He had to leave early.

Ossie's falling asleep now listening to Devotchka. He's finally getting some teeth in, just as he begins experimenting with pulling himself up on the dogs' food container and, sometimes, me. I love that boy.