Good morning! It is 6:20 and I’ve been half asleep for about an hour. Galixy whined about something I never got to identify. I went down there but he still wouldn’t use his words to tell me details, so I advised him to sleep till the sun is up and use his words if he wants helpful results.
I said last night I would make another entry, since I have things on my mind, but the kids cuddles were great and thorough and that’s definitely more important than writing about my thoughts on worrisome people and mom time, but lucky you, I awoke early and have desire to write. Without further preamble:
Being a single mom on the road, I understand how worry works. It’s often not the object of worry’s fault. Usually it’s the worriers own experience that makes their observance worrisome. Totally fair, but the observer isn’t actually living in that “objects” spot so there happens to be a big chunk of unobservables for worrier. My point is: it’s totally ok to worry because it’s a natural condition of our “advanced human mind” (dogs worry too in my perception so I think it’s just nature without brain power) but if we inflict our object with the pain and hindrance of our worry, we’ve done wrong. Does that make sense? Where is it coming from?
I have plenty of people worrying about me and my excellent decisions, from strangers who barely observe but find the worry anyway, to my mom who has a gps tracker connected to my phone in an attempt to abate her worry, and now Joe has voiced “he wished I’d have bearspray” my response was “are you fucking nuts? If someone’s trying to get in my bus while I’m sleeping (which has never happened so far) and I go grab the spray and get him as he comes in the door, where does the spray go besides his face? My bus, my face, my kids…. no thanks.”
“But if somebody came at you, wouldn’t you be willing to bear spray your everything??”
Seriously, yes, question my preparedness because it’s any of your business, I’ll sleep undisturbed any city so far, but, also, I’m not out and about at much of night time. I dont stay in super sketchy neighborhoods where I feel unsafe. I lock my door. I have a hunting knife next to my bed and I’m willing to draw blood with it. I do have pepper spray (pepper not bear!) But I prefer not to to use it. People dont want to bother me anyway. The kids are too old and back talk, no point in kidnapping them, and it’s not like we have a bunch of heady items worthy of breaking and entering a probably very stinky hippie bus.
On another note, making me feel worried about isn’t a very good idea. My mom tried to let me know that she worries and I started telling her less about what I was doing for a significant amount of time, now she has a tracker on my phone which I’m not a major fan of. I like my privacy, but her peace of mind is more important, especially if she can then check quietly without making me aware. The thing I like least is when I’m beginning to sneak up towards montana and she recognizesnmy route and asks immediately when I will be there. “Well, now it’ll take me one day longer just for the question.” I dont like rushing or outside pressure. I deal with enough interior pressure. I love my mom (we all know she’s reading this). Shes a wonderful lady with the innate tendency to drive me crazy… kind of like my kids. They drive me wonky. The point here is that if you want to unload your worries on me about my life, I probably end up not telling you very much about it. I dont like being questioned on my ability to make reasonably safe decisions for my children and my lives.
True, being a single mom on the road could be a fairly risky decision in itself, but as I see it, the alternative being a 9-5 with daycare involved is also a risky decision (see road mom thoughts entry) and I can only chose my freedom and half sanity if that’s really up for question.
By now it’s after dark. We waited all day for Katie’s keys but we didn’t want to abandon her on her last stretch and make sure he keys got to her safely somehow. It was great spending more time with a road mom. The ease of interactions, the understanding and willingness of seeing perspective. I feel like we helped out in our way. She even said she’d reciprocate but I told her that I dont feel like I gave or helped as much as I want to, so there’s really no need to look for the opportunity. Just pay it forward or something. I just really enjoyed the boys having a playmate and me having someone I can appreciate around.
Sometimes it’s the little things that bear that greatest light, and spreading that light makes it grow brighter. I’m filled with love for these two and hope their road becomes smooth and our paths cross again soon.
Matilda the Bugus 