Recommitting for 2024

Recommitted? Committed? Calgon take me away???

Yeah, so, I would explain my absence, but that’s too much. I just know that I woke up yesterday and today with the oddest push to get back here. Life allows me the time these days. But I also woke up completely weepy. No reasons, no bad dreams that intrude into reality, no bad news. Nada. Seasonal depression? Nope. I thrive with gray and rain and cold. Been that way forever.

I realize, maybe, just maybe, this feeling simply *is*. I’m not depressed or sad or apathetic. If I’m being transparent, I really could use a hug. Yup. A hug. Maybe a kind word? But mostly no words. For a matter of fact, yeah, don’t talk. Just a minute of proof that humanity is still connected with me. Since the whole “world went crazy” situation, closeness is fleeting it seems. Technology is great with texts, video chats, constant ABILITY to connect, but it isn’t true quality time, now is it? As I type this, I’m realizing that is the issue:

I’m a physical time giver.

The most precious thing I can give and receive is time. Wanna just sit and be? I’m your girl! Want to go for a spontaneous drive to absolutely nowhere? Call me! Food and convo? Say so much less! Crying and laughing at the same time to the point where the rest of the people around are questioning if there should be heavy medication? YOO HOO – pick me!! And now I live in a world where this is so hard to do. It’s actually one of the major reasons that I love my new career. I get to serve the community, and in that, be a human contact for a very robotic and automated process. Want to stop me to tell me about your kids, dog, job, hear the joke you just heard, see the progress on your project? I’m in…..so, so in. Could be my educational background of social work at play, but I think it is a natural part of me. I want you to trust that I have your best everything in mind any time I see you, even when I don’t see you.

Herein lies the rub. I would like a bit of that in return.

Right?

Who wouldn’t? And not the world – a genuine interest in my well-being. I’m not a “dumper”. You ask me how I am, you are going to get an honest answer, but you won’t be getting my life history. For the most part, I’m pretty positive with a bright outlook. I sometimes run into the bubbly aspect of things, but I tend to annoy myself when I am there, so pull the reins very quickly. But it is the hug that I covet and the hug that I possess. I want a space invading, chin tucked into the neck, heart beats starting to sync, long, hold onto me for dear life kind of hug. I’ll never ask why, I’ll never know why, I’ll just do! You break, I’ll hold. If I sigh, I’m about to give you a little more of my physical weight. Not because I can’t hold it, but because I feel visible. Don’t we all want that? Heck, don’t we all NEED that on some kind of level?

So here we are, and this is my digital “hug” to you. And I’ll keep giving them! Sometimes, even though you aren’t standing right next to someone, it feels good to have someone hold onto you, ask no questions, have no expectation….and just be.

So………just be…….

………..with me……

………deal?

That Dang NEEDED Lesson

That’s right. Not wanted. Not asked for. NEEDED.

Today, although not feeling particularly motivated, I actually got off my duff and have been doing some things. Let’s get the most accomplished thing out of the way…I showered!! That, on a day in which I don’t have to go anywhere or see the public is a rarity, ok? I have taken to the face cleansing, brush wetting hair, “I only wore it yesterday”, type of living. I’m not lazy, per se, but I definitely enjoy a much slower pace of life than offered. So, I’m clean – YAY!

As the Cleaning Lady (oh, that’s what I named the Roomba) was doing her thing, I realized that, as awesome as she is, she does not do stairs. And with kids and cats, that carpet traffic is R-E-A-L and I will take the time to do it. Mind you, since I now have a combined household with my mother, we have the Cleaning Lady for every single day cat cleanup, my vacuum as the downstairs vac, and her whopper vac as the upstairs one. This done specifically so there would never be a reason for her to lug a vacuum anywhere. But for the stairs, that whopper is the chosen one. The drone of the cleaning lady and of the whopper puts me totally in a zen state. I figure it is the adult manifestation of the the years as a child being driven in a car to fall asleep. That is serious! My mother had to threaten me, in order for me to get my license, which I desperately wanted at 16, I had to be able to stay awake in the car to the nearest town. You have to understand, at that point, I wasn’t seeing the 7 minute drive because I would get in a car and literally pass out within the first 3 minutes. It’s a desperate situation, but I usually do all of the driving now, so that is handled. No sleeping at the wheel. Put me in the passenger seat, I give you a few hours. Back seat? You have minutes.

I digress….

So in the vacuuming process, I decide that it should really be a deep cleaning of the stairs and the woodwork, railings, spindles, etc. Gladly I grab the orange spray and go to town! Not only will this wood be clean…it will be conditioned and in a gorgeous shiny state for the few hours prior to my children coming home with who-knows-what on their hands.

That’s when I hear him. He RARELY speaks to me. And when he does, it is profound and usually that-needed-lesson. Who is he? “He” is my Grandfather. My mom’s dad, who I grew up with basically being my own Dad. He was, and still is, the only person who is that larger than life figure. My oldest daughter is starting to get there, and I attribute that to him, too. Anyway, I had him, daily, for 24 years. He passed away 20+ years ago. Family members have spoken about dreaming about him, hearing him, talking to him, visiting his burial site, etc. Since his death, I have had 3 instances with him. 1) When my oldest was a very new born, I had a dream sitting with him at the kitchen table. He was in the red/black plaid shirt he often wore and had her neatly, safely, and lovingly tucked into his left arm. The ONLY interaction of that – “She won’t meet me, but she’ll KNOW me.”. 2) Moving into the house I bought and painting this same daughter’s room that she wanted painted the first weekend so she could occupy it, I am working like a madwoman and I hear, “Are you doing this fast or half fast (half-assed)?” To which I answered him OUT LOUD, “Really? THAT’S what you have to say to me?” My husband was like…”WHAT?!” I had to admit I wasn’t speaking to him. 3) Brings us to today. As I’m conditioning the wood, I hear it. Not his voice, but the lesson. Dad always used to tell me that good, manual labor, was praising God. I used to chalk it up to his obvious insanity from having 12 children and that he was turning into that crazy hermit dude who lives in the woods, off grid. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I am taking such care of this wood spindle – cleaning and conditioning – but I am not actively cleaning and conditioning my heart. How recently have I cleaned and conditioned myself in my faith? Have I actively sought God’s grace and forgiveness and thanked Him for my current (and past) everything? And here’s where the tears started…so violently and unintentional and truthful! THE NEEDED LESSON! In the cleaning of the wood, though? YES! YES! In the very hands on, caretaking of something so mundane, the needed lesson in my life. Freaking A – that dude was right….AGAIN!

That job being done, tears expelled and composure gained, I move onto vacuuming the corners where Cleaning Lady can’t get or deposits dirt while hitting the joint of two floor surfaces. Done and done, easy. But, hey, I’ve got the cleaner/conditioner out, let’s tackle the foyer so that the whole area is done. Cleaning, wiping, scrubbing, wiping, front door last, thinking about the lesson I just was schooled with, aaaaand step back. Take a gander to make sure it all looks……

A cross. The front door….has….the….cross. Now I’m getting a bit upset thinking I am being punk’d. So I start the trip around the house to check out all of the other doors. No. No. Nope. Nuh-uh. No. Nope. Are you freaking kidding me? Every other door either has a double cross thing or none at all. NO OTHER DOOR! Now……..now I’m in argue mode. “REALLY DAD?!?! You had to bring Grammy into this?!?! That’s a cheap move!” I can sense that this lesson is being forced upon me in ways that is overwhelming physically, emotionally, and spiritually. I got it the first time around, now you are calling in BACK UP??? That’s low, my man. See, my Grandfather had passed a few years prior to my mother and Grandmother deciding to update the house. Big ol’ renovation that my mom paid a lot into and gave my Grandmother carte blanche with what she wanted. So, he had nothing to do with it. This is a Gram project. And bless her soul, I had her daily for 40 years and miss her these years later. To give you some insight: each day, as a child, and I will assume way prior to my knowledge since I was the first grandchild and my mom is #2 of 12, when you walked out the front door, one if not both of my grandparents would say, “Praise God and bring joy to the world.” Like, to the point if you were leaving and *didn’t* hear that, you came back in the door to make sure they realized you were leaving. Now that it has been years without either of them here to say that to me, this was them saying it to me again.

I share this with you, clearly because it is my lesson, but maybe for it to be yours, too? Did you praise God today? Even if you aren’t a person of faith, did you bring joy to the world? How much time did you spend on your heart and spirit today? As much time as you spent cleaning your car? Watching the NBA playoffs? Time at work?

Like I said, these lessons aren’t chosen, often not sought out. That’s why they are so profound…and carry such gravitas. I am going to start having a very different day than planned. I pray that you have a beautiful and joyful day!!!

The Freedom of “F@&! It”

Aaahhhh….relaxation.

How you ask? How do you possibly achieve this state of being while parenting…..while it is seemingly the exact opposite?! Two. Tiny. Words. F@&! It. And, no, you don’t have to use these specifically, but the idea behind it is where the keys to the kingdom lie.

There is such a level of freedom when this is adopted. It isn’t lack of care or concern or even years of pent up pet peeves. It’s an understanding that, in the full picture….heck even in the smallest pixels….certain things just aren’t worth the holding onto. We can take something small like Jimmy playing in that mud puddle you asked him not to play in while dressed for Easter all the way up to Tina telling you those whopper lies at an age where she should know better (like….A WHOLE LOT BETTER!). Even the best of us can get caught up in the moment and feel the rage-o-meter rise! That’s where you need to have a very large container of “F.I.” on tap. Douse the flames before they get out of control. Momma…….let me let you in on a little secret….

…stains happen….and that is usually what a washing machine is for. Just think of the stories that will come for YEARS because Jimmy looks like he is wearing brown, knee high socks in that picture! And Tina…yes, you want her to stop lying, but it isn’t a personal attack on you! It is a scared/uncertain/hormonal issue for her. Help her see that you aren’t the enemy and won’t fly off the handle. Are you sick of it? Yes. Yes, you certainly are. There is a learning lesson for you both in that moment and you both have to learn it. Teach each other. Because, even though we “say so”, we don’t know it all, do we? I know, I know….they think we do. And some days, we seem to actually have ALL of the answers. Seriously? Kudos to us on those days. Yeah….brag.

In natural form to these blogs….OF COURSE I have stuff from my own life to share! The reason I even got to this wonderful canister of flame flattening foam was a year, clearly sent, wrapped, delivered, and sitting there impatiently waiting for me to unwrap all of the goodies given, straight from Satan. Very long story short: separation, moving out with girls, moving back in with girls, divorce, selling of house, moving, continued ‘pandemic’ nonsense, life in general, yadda, yadda. My children, now 20, 13, and 6, are a-frickin’-mazing! I learned so much from them during all of this. These three girls, in these three completely different stages in their lives, literally put me in a place where it wasn’t even survival but motivation to maneuver. Did I have to go to the place of “parent strength” sometimes? Yes. But it was never a negative reason or surrounded by negative feelings. And that’s because these chicks handed me an empty canister and then started teaching me to fill it with “F.I.”.

My oldest: the wise, the savvy, the positively persistent, the leader of the pack, the responsible, the academically driven, the laser focused. You have her in your head? Ok, now add to that: stunningly exotic, incredibly hysterical, massively talented. So this is the chick that we all wanted to be like or be liked by or just get to smell as she got close. She isn’t “popular” in the sense that you get when you think of what that means to you. She’s just…..that one. Sort of a loner by choice, not friends with the fake people, one of those hot nerdy types. She does suffer HEAVILY from RBF, but is the biggest quirky goofball you could ever meet.

My “middle” – I put middle in quotes because she is just second born. With so much space between all of them, she wasn’t ever really “middle-d”: the oblivious, the overly laid back, the do the minimum it takes to get by, the ‘I’ll get to it’, the unorganized. You have her in your head? Ok, now add to that: absolutely gorgeous, persistent, so uniquely talented, can make a friend anywhere, super social. This girl is the fancy one and not in the sense of high maintenance. She is messy chic. LOVES her some overly ripped jeans and a frumpy tee, but has to add a blingy necklace and elbow high, fingerless, knit gloves. Like, if goth and grunge had a baby who was into princesses. Like Courtney Love from the 90’s and from now, but both living in the present. Screw it! She’s an anomaly, super emotional in every direction, the greatest challenge and the most successful reward. She looks up to her big sister SO MUCH, but realizes that her happiness does not live in that level of achievement and performance. We are learning to be in a space of good flow together.

My youngest: the stubborn, the equal to her older sisters, the toughy, the truth-teller, the jokester, the line toe-r, the baby. You picturing that? Ok, now add to that: the “Entertainment” <–actual nickname given to her, puppy eyed, comfortable in her own skin, adored by everyone, street smart. This one, at 6, has NO concept that she isn’t on the same level as anyone she meets. She will add to any conversation whether it is being held by her peers, her sisters’ friends, or adults. With a wicked (not mean) sense of humor, timing, and sarcasm, she can fling a one liner so fast that you’ll never see it coming, barely hear it, but it will mind ninja you later. She’s a sponge for knowledge (useful and not), coordinated in a big body beyond her years so actually gets a bit mistreated because people think she is way older than she is. This one….is the “completion”. She complements her sisters so well, that they are truly and perfectly a right triangle.

All of this to say, these are the troopers that I have by my side and under my care that teach me something new every day. The oldest and youngest can get so mad about things, and two minutes later it is like nothing had ever happened. The oldest resolves it, usually, in a very take charge manner. The youngest by moving onto the next thing. The middle musics or draws it out, holds it in for a little while, then cries. All of these ways have been “me” at some point throughout my life, but these are the things we tend to forget, or want to forget, but do ourselves a great disservice thinking that they aren’t important to our now. Each of us has reached a point because of all of that. Some things we can correct. Most things deserve a big ol’ “F.I.” and movement forward. It brought us where we are. Lessons learned. Lessons appreciated. Growth and movement.

There are people who I have formed very close friendships with over the years that I have severely dropped the ball. “F.I.” – contact them. There are boxes still taking up the garage from the move 6 month ago. “F.I.” – a box every 3-4 days (or 8-9) works. Having to take on another job to pay for college. “F.I.” – she made a very smart decision where to attend and it is extremely doable. It is a blessing, not a burden. Grades aren’t where I would like them to be. “F.I.” – she had an extremely tough year and we go into high school with a new lease on life, new outlook, new everything. She is learning herself and resilience. The sassy attitude is getting one eyeroll closer to all nerves gone. “F.I.” – she doesn’t understand what is happening and has all the feels. Being strong willed will serve her in her future, even though I want to wipe it out of my house now. Groceries and gas cost a kidney on the black market. “F.I.” – I am in a position to be able to handle these extras for now. Cell phone keeps crapping out. “F.I.” – I really don’t like people that much anyway. The digging site across the street makes noise all day. Ok, ok, this one might not get the same reaction. But you follow me, right? All of these things, big or small, don’t have the control over us. They happen. They are events. What you choose to do with those events is where the beauty lies.

This post isn’t exactly where I wanted it to be…………..guess what………

I’m back…you poor things

Hey y’all! WAY long time, no see. Wait until you get a load of what I have learned/unlearned in the past years. Can’t wait to share with you!

~~Mykkii~~

 

 

2019…go away

Firstly, I want to say Happy New Year to you all.

Now give me back 2018. As much as it totally blew chunks for most people, it was so much better than the first three days of this year for me. Seriously. I would do the whole year over again before I have to do any more of the same of this year’s nonsense.

Reason 1: Mother Nature

Dear psycho – please pick a temperature, weather pattern, how about SEASON, and adhere to it! My copays are not for your delight, nor is any other matter that I have to keep laying cash down for because my family can’t possibly stay healthy in 50 degrees/20 degrees/snow/summer/rain-soaked insanity. Stop the nonsense…NOW!

Reason 2: Toddler Insomnia

We had to take the baby out of the crib on sheer measures of safety because climbing out of a bed is much easier to tolerate than the gymnastics routine that was her getting out of her crib. And on that note, I have been awake about 30 of the 36 hours of the year. And I hate everyone. I am a very politically correct and equal opportunity player when I am exhausted. Every single person on the planet sucks. Every. Single. One.

So if you are looking for my normal chipper, happy-go-lucky self, go look for her in 2018 because the baby clearly has her locked up as a POW of this operation called bed training and sleep regression. And to think, I willingly agreed to this? That’s the “parent stupidity” thing kicking in again. You don’t “forget”. Dear goodness me don’t ever tell a woman that she forgot what it was like. She tends to have a self-inflicted lobotomy about what it all entails. But trust me, that all comes flooding back in a nanosecond when you are going through the sauce.

Reason 3: School break ended/school started back up

Yeah, as much as parents complain about their kids being on break, I am the opposite. If they are on break, I too am on break.

So when that stops, it stops for me. I have to admit that I let my guard down this year. I fell quickly into the lack of extracurricular activities. I fell into the ‘no alarm’ thing. And wouldn’t you know that I am paying for it with my *soul*! God bless my oldest who has always been easy as pie. As a high schooler, she has the early bus ride because school is 30 minutes away. She had herself in bed at 8:30 the night before resuming because she knew getting up again would be hard. How smart is that?

Not this idiot.

I was up until midnight because I was so exhausted I couldn’t sleep. Then up twice for stretches of time due to Reason 2. So by the time my alarm went off to get up to be with the Big, I was hallucinating. And it continued all day. Still is continuing. Did Big Bird just walk past my house? But I digress. I literally forgot mom taxi mode. And I am paying for it *sigh*

Reason 4: Can I get an amen?

I love my faith and the freedom that I have to practice it. But I am going to have to say that all of these holidays and days of obligation had me living in the pews. Mass Sunday. Check. Mass Monday night for Christmas. Check. Mass Sunday. Check. Mass Tuesday for the Solemnity of Mary. Check. Wait….wasn’t I just here? I will put it all in the books as workout time because wrestling with a baby while standing/sitting/kneeling and trying to pay attention and get the blessings TOTALLY counts as a workout. So I guess I can cross off that resolution. You’re not getting my money judgement free zone because I can pay, get a workout, AND my soul correct at the same time. In all seriousness, God is good all the time and all the time God is good. He is the center of this family.

So let us start this day with me getting the 2 hours of sleep that seems to be the norm for 2019. I truly hope yours is grand and successful and joyous and generous. I will most likely be staring at walls and firing no synapses. My lack of response to anything really isn’t because I hate you, it is due to the fact that my brain can’t process anything outside of keeping my heart pumping and my lungs contracting and expanding. When involuntary processes turn into conscious decision…NASA, we have a problem. She’s going down for the last time, Cap’n! What other phrases can I use to evoke the image of a mass of a human ditching hard?

Because that is what will be happening. I hope the baby naps today, because this will be the one day in my parenting life that I will stop all other life events and “nap while the baby naps”.

Wishing you a happy, healthy, safe year! Seriously!! Now I am going back to my bed to stare at the ceiling.

It’s beginning to look a lot like….stress. Pure stress.

I’m baaack.  And so is my psychosis.  How is it halfway through November already?  Didn’t August just start?  What happened in the last few months?

No.  Seriously.

I know school started in all of that.  Trust me, 5th grade math homework reminds me on the daily that it exists.

I find myself looking around in a constant state of confusion because I can’t tell you what day it is or why we are doing any particular activity.  It is similar to,  I can only imagine, a partial lobotomy.  There is your standard walking into a room and forgetting why you walked in there in the first place.  The misplacing keys or glasses.  Calling your children all the wrong names.  You catch my drift.  This is bordering the reality of Groundhog Day.  Events are the same.  Day in, day out.  Results tend to be my exhaustion and declaration that I wouldn’t change it for the world.  Someone asked me about a current event the other day.  I believe my response was a blank stare.  It isn’t that I don’t want to know about these things!  I don’t have the time or energy to put into all of the world’s crap when I am trying to raise three strong girls to be able to find their way IN the world’s crap.  If that doesn’t make sense to you, I don’t have time to explain because the baby has climbed out of her crib and I have to go shove her back in it to take a nap.

The holidays at the end of the year really need to start spreading themselves out.  Halloween?  You were met with 2 kids in costume, zero decorations, about three less levels of crap giving than a dental cleaning, but you were warm.  Thanksgiving, you have some explaining to do because the forecasts are talking about snow and that should not happen before the fattening of me.  Then we have a birthday.  Ok, we can handle that.  Ugh…I don’t even know what kind of cake she wants.  And I have to find two of the gifts that I was so smart in buying when I found them in the summer and put away.  Probably wherever that missing remote is located.  Because I can’t find that either.  Christmas, I will find joy in you if it kills me!  You will not be commercialized or phony.  I will find some quiet time during your festive frolicking.  Maybe play some solitaire…with ACTUAL CARDS!  What a treat that would be!  Ah, but alas, this is all but a wishful moment in thinking that chaos isn’t what is on the menu.

So Happy, Merry, Joyful whatever you are celebrating for the rest of the year.  I’m gonna go pretend I understand what is going on and rub my temples.  Oy.

Killing me softly with Thursday

I am trying……SO HARD…..to make it through today to be excited, like everyone else, for Friday.  I have been attempting to love Thursdays like you love that five seconds finding the perfect spot in bed right before you pass out for the best night’s sleep ever.  I don’t get that either, but I am no quitter.  My attempts, though currently futile, WILL EXACT THEIR REVENGE and I will soon laugh in the face of Thursday and lack of sleep.  That is how my fairy tale goes.  Yes, Sleeping Beauty is my JAM! If that guy ever came close to me, I would swat him away! Keep your lips to yourself and let me sleep, a’ight?!

But sleep isn’t the only catalyst to my end of week disaster.  The two year old…God bless her, and I love her…is trying to end me.  It isn’t my first rodeo and as far as time spent in the ring, I’m rivaling Ali himself, but, to quote Danny Glover in Lethal Weapon, “I’m getting too old for this $%!+”  This is why, in the general sense of it all, you are supposed to have kids when you are young, if you are blessed enough to have them.  She is our little surprise, special miracle, precious gift.  I wouldn’t change anything around her or about her.  Although I do want to invest in some duct tape or a really, REALLY great set of noise cancelling headphones.  I love the name we have bestowed upon her but I do say it entirely too much, and seemingly extra on Thursdays.  It is like she is fully aware that my soul is diminished on this day, so she decides to check out how much I love her, truly, and her sweet shenanigans.  I cannot tell you how much I look forward to nap time on Thursdays.  Not that I sneak one in, too.  Those are two hours (fingers crossed) of being able to get work done and to allow my brain to drift while my emotions recover.

Today, we have spent the evening in the car because she has proven that I can’t take her inside to watch her sister during her tennis lesson.  And I ADORE watching my middle do her thing.  To see her work through it all and whatever is bothering her and whack the heck outta that little fuzzy ball with precision and power….and I’m not even a tennis fan.  I am a VERY big fan of all of my girls.  They amaze and awe me every day.  But you, Thursday, have a choke hold on me, no fail, every week.  You have become my “enough” day, the wedgie in my emotional underwear, the wet-willy of my life’s ear.  I have attempted to ignore you.  Lord knows I can’t skip you, darn it!!!  Maybe I should just start calling you Yadseut, to hope you’ll be a mirror of a day gone past.  Certainly we can’t be friends…you are too much of a boil on the butt of my humanity.

The solace of it all is that you do, indeed, end.  The kicker is that you always come back.  I shouldn’t complain, because like blessings, counting Thursdays means I have been given the gift of another week.

But, honestly, can we give it a rest maybe, like, once a month?!

 

I Didn’t Order This

There are very few certainties in my life that have been lifelong things.  One is my total and unabashed love of food.  No, I’m not a foodie.  I like to eat, end of story.  Another is that my heart rules.  My mind is definitely a partner in the process of checks and balances, but 99.98% of my every day is motivated by my heart.  And, I am painfully shy.

These three things, especially, frame my actions.  As a teenager, obviously, I tested all of this out, but it all came back because they are inherent parts of me.  There is no use in denying them because they revolt and rise up.  I have said before that my oldest daughter has broken me out of the quietness, but these are all very calculated maneuvers during my day.  Naturally, I could sit in silence all day.  Maybe – ok, most likely – I will break out singing because there will be music on somewhere that will move my soul.

I tell you these simple things because most people have the incorrect image of me.  They aren’t *totally* wrong, but they are not aligned with the actual traits. People have told me that I am very funny and outgoing, a strong person, intelligent, etc.  These are all extremely flattering, and I thank anyone who has ever taken the time out to give a compliment.  But even saying thank you to someone who has given me a compliment is a very specific move to get the attention back OFF of me.  I have a friend who knows this so well and has a great laugh any time he compliments me and watches me squirm about it.  Seriously, I’m like Wonder Woman deflecting bullets with her bracelets, ok?!

I attribute all of this to a mixture of things.  I was raised in a very loving house with my mother’s family.  I would get swallowed up every day by my Grandfather’s huge hugs.  My Grandmother would always pay me perfect attention, even if she was in the middle of something.  My mom went to work every day to provide me with a life filled with so many experiences, but, still managed to make every event I was involved in.  And I was an only child with “siblings” because of all of my mom’s siblings.  But in that dynamic, I was made very aware of when I was to be considered like a sibling and when I was “the niece”.  I learned my role quickly.  And in that, started forming who I wanted to be very early on.  I didn’t need to talk much because listening provided me with the most information.  I guess you can say I have been a life-long learner.  Life, and people in it, have probably taught me more than any text book.  So my intelligence isn’t because of anything I’ve studied other than having a good memory and listening.

Being funny, who even knows if this is true but that comes from the fact that I live a life filled with characters and life seriously delivers the best comedy.  I’m no comedian, but I bet I have a funny story that has to do with something we are discussing.  Or if not, my ignorance is pretty amusing.  I believe that most of it comes from the very real fact that, because I am shy, my inner workings and thought processes are slightly skewed in ways that most people find amusing.  Hey, to each their own, right?

Then there is strength.  This is nothing more than being private and having a ridiculous amount of self-control.  I wouldn’t have said that I had this trait, but when I was pregnant with my second, she stole it right from me.  I had no filter, no censor, no time for anything and people knew it.  I guess it is better to have it all out there than to drive yourself crazy with it.  I am not presenting the world with a false me, but you aren’t going to know my innermost workings unless I choose for you to know.  And the majority of people don’t/won’t know.  Heck, I’m not sure my husband is even aware, and I love him beyond!

In writing this, so many instances have come to mind and given me a visual reminder.  And my head tells me that it is no big deal, while my heart tells me how broken it is.  But my heart *isn’t* broken.  It is functioning perfectly the way it was intended to operate.  It feels broken because of things that have made me hurt.  Let’s be perfectly honest and say that it is the heart’s own fault for loving in the first place. 

And it also just died a bit having to tell the sick 9 year old with tears in her eyes that she has to go practice the drums.  Then when said 9 year old nodded her head in understanding why, and went about doing it, that same broken heart thumped with pride at this marvelous creature.  Are there tears streaming out of my eyes?  Of course!  Because, not to sound corny, Cinderella and Prince Charming (or is it Henry) said it best, “So this is love.  Mmmmm.”

I didn’t order this for myself.  But whatever the great Chef in the Sky has given me on my plate, every single morsel is delicious, and I plan to partake in every luscious bite.

The Confusion of Adulthood

I’m sure this is something that I am absolutely NOT alone in feeling.  Here I sit, at an official desk/office job, and I’m listening to a mixture of music.  I’m trying to stay on top of the new artists, but I feel myself falling back to my 80’s R&B station.  And I am being responsible and keeping hydrated with my specific amount of water intake…in my favorite JT mug that a coworker gave me.  No, seriously, it’s my favorite.  If I catch someone else using it, I get all types of feels that aren’t…mmmm…nice?  Like, I am giddy using it.  So. Dumb.

Then you have my desktop wallpaper.  This should represent a nice scene or my kids or something of that nature.  Nope, not mine.  I have a big old screen filled with MegaMind.  Yes, MegaMind.  The blue alien cartoon. 

Because, heck, saying, “I, too, would make this popp-ed corn,” to myself makes me laugh.  To those people who don’t see ‘kids’ movies because you don’t have children/cousins/nephews/nieces OR who think you are too hot stuff because you are over 12 and able to see PG-13 and R without adult supervision or stealth movie moves – you are seriously missing out.  Trust me on this one.  Some of THE FUNNIEST things to happen are in these animated nuggets.

AND, OH MY GOSH, speaking of nuggets!  My husband just texted me that he will be making dinner and isn’t sure that the littles will eat it, but that it is ok because there are left over new gets to give them.  I. Lost. My. Smack!

Why am I in tears, still giggling about this situation?  I knew immediately that he meant nuggets, and the adult in me could have let it go and carried on the adult conversation.  Yet, here I am, acting like I am 6 and someone just farted in church.  And he’s texting me saying it’s not that funny.  Um, yeah!  It is!!  Because I’ve had enough of adulting today.

No one ever ASKS if you want to be an adult.  It’s one of those imposed assumptions.  I also am not trying to “go back to the good ol’ days”.  I’m currently living those.  I mean, c’mon!  I’m married,  have three great kids, a house, cars (ok, ok, a minivan), I get to live the life I choose.  Who the heck wants to go back to sitting in class, forced to learn about things that don’t even compute?  I have no curfew…I MAKE ‘EM!  Like…that’s sort of cool in its own right.  Yeah, that’s right.  Think about it you bada$$!  Now YOU are “the man”.  Which, then, starts this ‘oh my goodness!  I’m so oppressive’ thought pattern that you quickly poo-poo because you are still laughing about the “new gets”, and your awesomeness drinking water out of your tuxed up mug.

Confusion no more.  I’M AWESOME!

Crying at the beach

You are tired.  I know you are.  You know you are.  Stop denying the fact that you are forty minutes past exhausted and trying to run around.  When you start to pick a fight with compacted sand, you’ve already lost.  I’m watching the battery life indicator drain out while you try to stand up straight.  And, it is the first nice day for us, and I want you to have this time, but child – YOU ARE PHYSICALLY FADING IN FRONT OF MY FACE!  

The breeze is tossing your little curls around and I can’t get enough of it!  Those legs are working hard to keep balance while you run back and forth from the water’s edge.  I see you spot a seagull and debate if you should chase it.  But, no, you are going to run away from us as quickly as you can.  Which, as stated before, isn’t that incredibly fast…because you are tired.  So I scoop you up and run with you toward the water and pretend to throw you in.  We do this dance a few times.  And I stop.  And the meltdown begins.  Normally, you have a small thawing, and maybe a swipe with a “top” [stop], or a “no” thrown at me.  But this is a Santa didn’t come-you were put on the naughty list-someone stole your puppy while eating your ice cream and snuggling with your blankie-kind of meltdown.  And I know.  We have to go….NOW.  Your sister and father have been playing so nicely and getting all of her pent up energy taken care of.  But you, little life hacker, make all of that change.

We tried, hard, to make something fun happen.  Luckily, for me, there was a couple that needed help with one of their dogs trying to get out of his harness and run away.  Your attention was solely focused on me trying to pick up a squirming lab in a sand dune.  And you let me take your hand and walk you to the car.  Then we got there.  Tame no more, let the banshee screaming begin.

“I promise we will come back later, ok?”  Thank goodness you are at the age of understanding what I am saying because that seems to assuage the inner demon.  On the ride home, you inspect your crossed arms and you are so cute doing it.  We take off your shoes and little jacket and you are ok heading out to the back deck while I get things ready.  But you know what is happening, and you know that, in mere seconds, this is all going to change.

I get you into that bed and I hold you, kissing your head, while I feel your body give into the mattress.  It only takes a couple of minutes for your sweet little sleep-breathing to kick in.  And just like that, the tears that were flowing have turned into sweet sleep.  Now, I sit and pray that you are down for 2 hours so I can cry!