I am a total crab-ass right now. And since you all are my sweethearts, and you just love to hear me whine, I'm going to tell you about it.
Nothing catastrophic happened today. Just irritating little issue upon irritating little issue. For instance, my day started with me sitting on the bed with my legs crossed, waiting for my lallygagging husband to get out of the bathroom so I could pee, and get ready for work. Then I stuck my left thumb with the syringe while I was giving Bug her shot. Could not get the Girl out of bed. Almost forgot to take the trash to the curb, so had to go back and do that. Almost late for work. Almost, but not, so that's good. Some late requests at work (And one was misspelled. At least one word in every. sentence. How do you do that?) Got home to fighting kids. The Girl was whiny, The Boy was irritating. The Girl decided at 6:45, when I finally sat down to eat dinner, that she wanted me to study math with her. And "could you just make me up a practice test? just 20 questions?" They're studying probability, so I had to make up stories and diagrams and crap. Litter boxes need to be changed and I'm out of litter. All of this is making me very shouty, so every few minutes someone is asking, "why are you yelling?!" Which then makes me feel very stabby.
Breathing. In through the nose...out through the mouth. That's better.
Oh well. Need to go up and do the dishes. Another Charlie Brown picture is in order today.
I title this post thusly mainly because of one story I really want to tell, and my friend Sarah (holler Sarah!) told me I should write about it here. I haven't pulled completely out of my pea soup fog, but I'm feeling a bit clearer. I had a good week at work, I met some really lovely people (A's cousin is a sweetheart), an excellent therapy session on Monday, and this happened last Saturday...
I would like to preface this story with two points: 1. I realize this would not be a big hairy deal to most people. 2. I am non-confrontational - to a fault. It takes a lot for me to open my mouth and speak up, much less to get in someone's face.
The Girl is playing basketball for a good team. Admittedly, we are rarely on "the good team" so this is kind of a nice change of pace for us. It is a feeder team for an AAU team, so all the girls are pretty into basketball, and really like to play. We were up 18-0, and a guy sitting behind us says "This is bullsh*t." Guy sitting next to me turns around, shoots a dirty look, and turns back. Guy 1 says something along the lines of "yeah, you can look at me." Guy 2 "Yeah, I looked at you. What's the big deal, they're little girls, having fun." Guy 1 "I don't know how much fun you would have, losing 18-0 every week." And they start getting in each other's faces, yelling, and the f-word starts being dropped, a lot. I look behind me at the little boys staring, wide-eyed. And I stand up, insert myself between the two guys, and yell "sit down and shut up! There are little kids here! What is wrong with you!" Heehee, they looked all chastened and apologized. Obviously these were not scary gang members or anything, but this was kind of a big step for meek little me. I felt kind of...empowered...after that. And the mom of the little boys thanked me.
I am also rather proud of the fact that, despite my rather grinchy attitude as of late, I have been all festive and social on not one, but two occasions this week. And I was only paid on one of those occasions (and it was still kind of fun, if exhausting.)
I'm not sure what made this week's therapy session so good, exactly, but I have been feeling better - more in control - since. She gave me a packet from an anxiety workbook to do before our next session, so I even have a concrete assignment to work through. I'll tell you all more about it when I read it.
So there we are...a little more upbeat this week. Snuggles and love to you all...
There is something about Snoopy that always puts me in a good mood. I can't be Grinchy around Snoopy.
I've been in a foggy place lately. Outwardly, I am functioning - doing my job, cooking Thanksgiving dinner, even talking and laughing occasionally. But inside. I feel like I am trying to swim through something thick and viscous and gray.
Part of this is the time of year, which makes me feel even worse. Why does December do this to me? Not just me, from what I hear. I love the concept of holiday and cheer and soup and candles and presents...but the reality takes an energy I just don't have.
There are steps I should be taking to make myself feel better. Things proven, that work. Things that don't even involve me seeing specialists and getting new meds, which yes, I realize I am overdue on. Things like exercise, and meditation, and healthy foods, and sleep.
Everyone on Facebook has been passing around that "what you don't know about me" meme, and if you comment or like, you get a number. Dude, I have commented and liked all over the place and have not received a number. My sad little girl self says it's because nobody cares, but my rational self says it's probably because I am not a particularly private person and overshare, anyway. But it's fun, and it's a list, and you all know I love lists. So here they are...some things you all may not know about me:
1. I was not born in this country. My dad was in the Army, and I was born in Panama. I actually had dual citizenship until I was 18 and had to choose.
2. I actually find tattoos very sexy, but I'm terrified of needles, so I stopped at one. I've promised myself one more when I get 100 lbs off.
3. I was completely out of contact with all but one high school friend until Facebook. So that was almost 15 years. When I started communicating with them again, I found that the people I really liked in high school were still amazing people, and some were even better. This is why I never complain about Facebook.
4. I am still friends, at least on Facebook, with almost all of my ex-boyfriends. I like to make some self-deprecating excuse for this, but the fact is, if I liked them enough to date them, I liked them enough to be friends with them. In fact, some of them are still some of my favorite people. One was a guest at my wedding, and one was in my wedding.
5. Re: the above - my husband has no problem with this. He is not a jealous person, anyway, but he honestly likes some of them.
6. My friends love to tease me about my bibliophilic tendancies, but honestly, most of what I read is rather "low-brow." I happen to love chick-lit, and I'm not ashamed of it. One of my favorites.
7. I enjoy my "alternative" music, but when working out of dancing, I prefer Black Eyed Peas, LMFAO, and Britney Spears. Shut up.
8. The older I get, the less I can tolerate crowds. I went to a festival with my family recently, a festival I've always enjoyed, and I was miserable all night. This is an odd trait for a social person. I have discovered that, while I am social, I am an introvert.
9. Also, I love to be alone. I rarely get lonely. Don't get me wrong, I love my friends, but I'm very happy alone. I don't even talk to myself when I'm alone (although I do talk to my cats.)
10. I love to think of myself as a spiritual person, but I have trouble enjoying spiritual books. I've tried to slog my way through Eckhart Tolle 3 separate times, and I just cannot force myself to finish it. And I'm the girl who forced herself through Dostoevsky.
11. I always wanted to be a gymnast, but I never had the nerve to even kick up into a handstand. I also have never had the body for it. So I have always been obsessed with anyone who can do a flip or any other acrobatics. There is this girl who lives in the house behind us and she used to jump on her trampoline all the time. I became the creepy woman who would stare at these kids on the trampoline - but it was only because I was fascinated by their ability to flip.
12. When I was in elementary school, I checked out the same books from the library over and over again. I was a constant re-reader. We didn't have these new-fangled computer check-outs, we had cards. The cards in my favorite books only had my name written, over and over again. The ones I read the most included The Boxcar Children and this book about a Girl Scout troop that solves mysteries. I also read and re-read Baby Island, Little Women, The Little Princess, and the Trixie Belden series.
13. I love to sing, and I'm not horrible, I have crippling stage fright, and a terrible envious streak. Yeah, this means I will watch someone else sing, I will feel jealous and petty, but I won't perform myself, because I will throw up. This is one of my least favorite things about me.
14. I despise The Disney Channel. Oh wait, you all know this. (my daughter is watching one of the ridiculous shows starring one of their clones right now.)
15. Last one. I've always wanted to be a beautiful, hippy-like flower child, with a yard full of growing things, homeschooling my children, making soup from scratch, sewing our clothes, off-the-grid, artistic, smelling of patchouli and baking and dreadlocks kind of woman. Then, as my children started growing and I discovered the ease of television and occasional McDonalds, I realized I was too lazy and too addicted to modern life to live that life. That, and I have little patience for ironing seams, my children are better behaved for other people, I am a terrible artist, and I look like crap in dreads. And I kill everything I grow. So I just read the blogs of the women who do these things, think of how awesome they are, and go watch "The Simpsons." I think I have finally started to come to terms with the real version of myself.
One of the cool things about blogging and reading blogs, and doing other bloggy things, is you discover some pretty cool people with some pretty interesting things to say. I try to share the ones I love the most here, although I am not always so great with the links. I've been reading Simple Mom off and on for a few years, and I've been more off than on as of late. This morning, through a series of links from other blogs, I ended up on her blog again. She's written another book, this one called One Bite at a Time. I read the first chapter and was hooked right off with her use of the following quotation:
"Eat a live frog first thing in the morning and nothing worse will happen to you the rest of the day."
Mark Twain
What the heck is she saying with this? Figure out the important things that need to be done, take the suckiest one you don't want to do the most, and get it done first. Simple right? Tsh goes on to say her frog is exercise...and I bought the book. Because, while I don't hate exercising, I hate the act of getting off my ass and starting. And I've been saying, over the past few weeks, that I just need to get up and work out and get it out of the way, and my life will be so much better.
So my first little project - finding and eating my frog - is to wake up and exercise. And I will start tomorrow morning. This is a good time to start this, having fallen back this morning. I'll feel like it's not so very early, right?
Just to defend my rather disjointed writing here - the Boy is listening to people play Magic while I'm writing, and I can't freaking concentrate on what I'm trying to say. I think I'm just going to bed. I have to be up early, after all.
I'm totally hyped up on albuterol and excellent conversation right now. And maybe a little too much buttercream frosting. Went to the doctor with a nasty case of bronchitis today, he drugged me up, and then I went to my classics book club. We decided that for October, The Shining qualified as "classic." I came home and ate cheese and used my inhaler, and now I'm hyper and feel like writing, but I have nothing of any substance to write. So today will be a rather rambly favorite things post:
Today I am loving (besides colby jack cheese on toast)...
1. The Blogger: she is pretty brilliant and geeky and fun to read. She wrote a book called Let's Pretend This Never Happened, which I read and then turned onto her blog, which is funny, since she's had the blog for a while. I love her Halloween costumes this year, which has inspired me to research...
2. All the freaking cool homemade Dalek costumes on Pinterest. I've been rather absent from Pinterest lately, but The Girl wants to be a Dalek for Halloween, and I looked up the costume ideas. Most of a version of strapless short dress with bumps - not happening on my (almost) 11 year-old, especially with the weather we're having lately. But there are some great ideas out there. Of course, I only have a week...
3. Speaking of weather - everyone is talking about how cold it is and how they hate it, but I kind of love it. I love soup, socks, sweaters...all the s words. And hot drinks. Love hot drinks. I tend not to wear socks in summer, so...loving the chilly.
4. My newest additions to my slowly growing geeky t-shirt collection:
That's right - Dia de los Muertos SuperMario mushroom AND Bob! I will be the coolest chick on the playground! And the best part about buying from the Bob Ross website? His head is an icon. Love!
5. Crockpot Chile Verde - easy-peasy. Pork loin roast, cut in half, season with salt and pepper, put in crock pot, cover in jarred verde sauce ('cuz fresh tomatillos are hard to come by in any quantity here in KY,) cook all day. Pull apart and serve with tortillas. Very good, and one of my family's favorites right now. Of course, we like the spicy...
Ok, this will do for now. Still hyper, but if I'm not careful, I'll go off on crazy tangents...and then what will I write about next time?
My poor girl. I'd forgotten how hard it was to be a 5th grade girl until today. She is having a tough time of it, socially, and I'm finding her problems are hitting a bit too close to home, and I don't think I'm giving very good advice.
I was never "popular." I wasn't unliked, but I always thought I had to work hard for my friends. This was my own self-image issue, and has continued to affect the way I am around people - getting louder and sillier the more insecure I feel. As my Girl grows up, I see more and more of me in her. And this scares me.
Which is funny, since I have anxiety attacks over my inability to relate to my Boy. He doesn't really care one way or another what other people think or feel about him, which makes me both worry and envy him.
But my Girl cares. And she frets. And she's sad. Some of her friends are popular, and they have other popular friends, and in her eyes, they don't want to talk to her when their popular friends are around. This may not be the case, as I've noticed she doesn't seem to integrate well into group situations (unless she is playing on a team,) and I've noticed if she doesn't have all the attention, she thinks the others don't like her. Does that make sense? I'm not there, and I'm not seeing how people are acting. But I am seeing her upset and not want to go to school, and I'm seeing her cry. My poor girl.
Funny, my own response to this, besides worrying, has been clumsy. I try to remind her of what she likes about herself. I tell her she is sweet and smart and funny, I think she's gorgeous, and she's really good at sports. And then I cap it off with the basic truth - girls, especially at this age, are crazy. Completely nuts. And, quite frankly, this is why I mostly hung out with boys for awhile. I love my girlfriends, and eventually I did meet some girls in high school I adored, but on the whole, boys don't have quite the same amount of crazy. At least, not until college.
An interesting coincidence: my 20 year reunion is this weekend. I am going, and I'm looking forward to it, but a lot of people are posting pictures from dances, vacations, and other great fun, and I don't have pictures from high school like that. For that matter, I don't have many pictures from high school at all. I am finding that as I get older and reconnect with a lot of these people on Facebook, that I really like the people they've become, so I am looking forward to reconnecting. It's an act of will, though, to not let that jerk of a self-image issue through. To not listen to the shouts in the back of my mind: "you've gotten so fat! nobody will like you! nobody liked you then; why would they like you now?" and the old "what have you done with your life!" With friends like myself, who needs enemies?
Look at this. It's so frustrating to look at myself here and remember how little self esteem I had. Darn it, I was adorable.
Have your kids reached the "tween" stage yet? Are they emotional wrecks? How do you deal with situations like this, especially when they remind you of your own personal brand of neurosis?
