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

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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 InsomniaBoo

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.grinch

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.massage

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.

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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?

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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.

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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.

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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?!

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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. Magnus

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. megamind

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!

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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!tumblr_n10zdmPuE81qf9mevo1_500

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!  fading

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.banshee

“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!

You can’t make me!

NO!  I don’t wanna do it and there isn’t a thing you can do about it.  Sorry suckers, you’re out of luck.

What is it, you ask, that I don’t want to do?

Be the princess.  I do NOT want to be the darn princess!

For years I’ve watched movies and shows and read books and had dolls that all dealt with the ‘having to be saved’ motif and not finding happiness until the end with some grand act of heroism by some “Dirk” who has, realistically, been utterly useless for the whole story!  I don’t want perfect hair all the time or “rags” without a stain on them.  Like, is that your life?  Because …

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it sure isn’t mine.  Even when I clean my house it is still a disaster.  Laundry, now that always shows progress for 4 baskets worth.  Then I put the one basket back in the bathroom and, miracle of miracles, there are clothes in it.  My fridge is only full if I go grocery shopping with the little one and her sisters don’t get home for a few hours.  Dishes, those are usually under control (thank GOODNESS for a large capacity dishwasher).

But let’s get down to the really real.  I went to renew my passport and driver’s license a couple of weeks ago and, hey, I showered, so I’m feeling pretty good about myself.  The guy takes my pic for the passport and says, “Is this what you want?” in a tone that makes me think that I look like a blob fish in a t-shirt. (Image by Daniel Joel Newman)blobfish_by_danieljoelnewman-d7u0mwr

So I look at the pic he took….and there was me.  That is the same thing I see in the mirror every day, dude.  The hair can’t be fixed because it is naturally curly – which means it does exactly whatever it feels like doing with or without product.  So yeah, no need to “fix my hair”.  I’ve never worn makeup except to my proms, and weddings (like my own and other people – not that I have had 15 of my own marriages).  The bags under my eyes, fella, they stay there.  I don’t try to hide them.  I’m a 42 year old woman with three kids, 4 cats, a job, a side hustle, and a husband who works so much so that I can be a work from home mom that we don’t see him a lot, and none of my kids drive….a car…because they all know how to drive me crazy.  Let the ocular luggage be, pal.  These gray hairs aren’t to be covered!  They are each a small badge of accomplishment for living a life with my mistaken-identity-wildammo-bu89ds-3family.  Plus, I’m gonna look *amazing* with gray curly hair, just wait for it, loser pants.  I don’t have a need to look like Pocahontas in my passport photo because when I flash that thing, it won’t resemble the lady in front of their eyes.

 

 

Then I hit the counter for my license.  I don’t NEED to get a new picture taken but I AM getting one because I am 135 pounds lighter now that I am in that pic.  Every time I use it I cringe.  Not because I was big, but, because it reminds me of all the inner turmoil.  It was a rough decade.  So I get the picture taken and the woman shows me and asks if it is what I would like to use.  Yup, again, that’s me.  And I say as much.  She begins laughing and tells me about how she renewed her passport and she is “so white” that the white background does her “no justice” in her picture, so she shrugged it off and said, “Well, that’s me.”  AMEN SISTER!  I don’t judge myself or others on their outward appearances.  One of my favorite conversations to have every week is with a man who is homeless in NYC and is on my walking route into the office.  He’s spectacular.  Even on the days I wish I had the cloak of invisibility, he makes me smile with a cheery hello.  And that’s all it takes!

Want to make me feel like a princess?  Not BE one….FEEL like one.  Say hello.  Ask how I am and ACTUALLY listen to the darn answer.  Talk to me about my kids and what they are doing.  If I made a yummy meal, tell me so.  Show some interest in something that you really don’t care about, but I do.  These are simple things, but these are the parts of my kingdom.  There are no little minions to do my bidding.  Trust me, if I see a mouse, I’m not asking it to sew a dress, I’m drawing its existence to the attention of 4 felines.  If a bird gets near my laundry, I’m shooing it because that results in a rewash (ya dirty pooper).  Deer around here bring ticks, so stay the heck away!

You can take your glass slipper and shove it!  I’m good with my 5 year old sneakers with no tread.  Keep your palaces!  This home is a disaster of love and making memories.  Keep your happily ever afters because I’m living my happily every day.  The only guessing in how my story ends is when.  And I’m not focusing on that, just yet.

Dueces, Dirk.

 

**I have nothing against anyone named Dirk.  This is a made up name that I have come up with over the years that defines the majority of Disney Princes and Ken dolls.  Meaning, this is dealing with characters of FICTION.

I, the Loner…

have a confession to make.

This introvert enjoys solitude!  Yup, I said it!  I enjoy being solo.  And it isn’t because I’m pensive or have complete social anxiety, or find more solace in a book than a person.  It’s just because I like the beauty of nothing.  Not ‘nothing’ as in everything is horrible, but ‘nothing’ as in like, no events happening.

Seriously, I could be staring dead at you and you could be talking away and I won’t hear a word!  NOT ONE!  Did you call my name first?  Did the light of recognition go on?  If those things didn’t happen, the blame is yours I’m afraid. shurg I can’t figure out if this is one of those nature or nurture situations.  I mean, the ability to not have a single synapse fire has to be a part of the nature side.  When you ask what I am thinking about, and I answer “nothing”, that is for real.  But then growing up in my mother’s family of 12 (plus my Grandparents) might put that nurture side into contention.  Honestly, can you imagine 12 people talking at the same time?  As a kid, I would just listen.  You learn the skill of following multiple streams of conversation at the same time.  I never joined in because, well, who cares?  As a teen, the same skill would apply, but I would hop in a convo or two.  As the crowd started to die down at the daily level, this skill would be put to use only during holidays and birthdays.  At one point in time, it seemed like everyone in my family all worked for the same company, or in the same field, and that was the conversation.  My Grandmother and I would look at each other across the table and usually shrug or give that knowingly sarcastic half-smile telling the other, “Yeah, I don’t follow or care, either.”  She was the other introvert in the family.

As an adult, things didn’t change much, but I had this way crazy phone phobia for about 2 years.  Seriously, if you told me I had to call someone and talk, I broke out in cold sweats and had mini panic attacks. sweat

But then I was blessed with my oldest daughter.  Talk about my polar personality opposite!  Well, let me bring you back a second to the infant days where I was being scolded by my family that I wasn’t talking to the baby enough.  Mind you, from 5-24 years old, I maybe, *MAYBE* said 50 words a day.  There was no need to talk for the sake of talking.  Who even does that?!  It also was very convenient that through high school I would lose my voice every other month to laryngitis.  Couldn’t have been happier.  My poor Bio lab partner, though.  God love you, Mike.  I would raise my hand, get called on, then elbow him in the ribs to read the answer I had written.  Anyway, back to the girl.  We would go places with crowds and she would wander off.  I let her go as far as was comfortable for me: in sight, within 6 running steps of mine in contact, and I was absolutely willing to go to jail for assault.  This Mama Bear does not play.  We were in Australia visiting my hubby’s family and out to dinner and she was walking around the entire place saying hello, telling them her name, etc.  I was mortified!  Not because she was being the mayor of everywhere, but because I would then have to go TALK to someone to apologize for her interruptions.  She would also politely threaten people with me.  Picture this little beauty walking over to strangers, saying, “Hi.  I’m two!” then putting on this death face, stretching her chunky arm with pointed finger behind her and saying, “THAT’S my mom.”  It was like she was challenging people to mess with her because she had this big bulldog behind her.  <–meaning me!  Granted, she was right…it was a dare.  Because in my head was, “You touch her, you’d better start running,” but this war was raging in my soul about what if this person starts to talk to me?  spngebobWho in creation was going to save me?!  Please, Lord, don’t ask me about her or where we are from or why we are there or ANYTHING for that matter.

As she grew up, she started to gain a bit of the quiet in her life, but she is an extrovert with a capital EVERYTHING!  Put that girl on a stage and watch her do her thing!  Me?  If I *had* to be on a stage, it better have been as a tree or flower and certainly with NO lines.  I couldn’t have told you who was in the audience at any of the plays I was in because I was too busy studying the floor of the stage.  But she has this great balance of taking in and absorbing while entertaining the masses.  Her next sister isn’t much different.  Lord help me.

People who have met me since her birth think I’m lying when I say I am shy and an introvert.  It’s all that darn girl’s fault!  She made me have to talk to people.  Doesn’t mean I still don’t have internal tug-o-war when I have to speak or talk to someone new.  So I live my life…no words have to be spoken.  Stuff will happen.  Laughter usually will ensue.  Kids do that to your life.  Then there are the days that I haven’t seen an adult (other than my husband) for a month and just need to unload.  I apologize to all of those people who have caught me on that day.

So, as a natural, inherent introvert and observer, I’m perfectly fine.  No, nothing is wrong.  Yes, I am happy.  I revel in my silence.  Clearly, it is uncomfy for you.  Maybe you should figure that out because…..I’m good with mine.

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Inspiration underload

Yup, you read it right.  UNDERLOAD.  I am currently underwhelmed with motivation and inspiration.  This is something that I was never “warned” about in parenthood.  But I am realizing that it is a very real and tangible thing, and perfectly normal.  I love, nay, adore being a mom.  It’s my most important work and I take no moment for granted.  In the way of perfect honesty, these moments blow chunks.  The monotony of routine – which I normally love (because, no excitement means no issue) has gotten me beaten today.

I sit here, showered, dressed, ready for the day, which is a miracle in itself at this time of morning, and totally desire-less to do a thing.  The best word I can use to describe it is “meh”.  And I’m going to let myself have this moment.  Because it is part of the ebb and flow of life.  I love being happy and it is my usual standard, but today I’m feeling quite blank.  Maybe I’m tired.  Maybe I’m getting sick.  Maybe absolutely nothing is wrong and in a few hours this will pass.  Whatever it is, I’m owning it.  Let’s be honest, it is probably all due to the fact that I ate an Oreo for breakfast.

Or the hum of the dishwasher is lulling me.  Or the cats all napping in my view.  Or the fluffy snow falling from the sky.  Or the fact that I actually got a full night’s sleep.  {Darn you sleep}  And, at this point, it’s quite like an out of body experience.  As I look around the room, why did I choose this color to paint those years ago?  Do I like it?  Was it because my family member had this color in excess and offered it for free?  Was that even the case?  Clearly, I’m losing my mind.

Now my hardest work of the day is going to be finding the joy in this moment of “joylessness”.  Sounds so odd.  I don’t know about you but feeling this way truly makes me reel.  I fatigue easier because I am spending all of my energy trying to self-solve to get back to my rosy glassed due north.  And there is nothing to solve.  Isn’t this the exact definition of insanity?  Like, go grab a glass of chocolate milk and your cell phone and play some mindless game!  Seriously, I want to slap me in the face so hard right now!

tenor

We may be having a bit of a breakthrough!  Uh, don’t want to get too excited now, but I do want to start nursing it back into existence and the forefront.  See, these moments of “nothingness” are here for a reason.  Whether to get me through an unknown issue, literally to give my brain a break, or to just have some pensive time – it all brings life back into balance.  Personally, I don’t feel anyone can be “on” all the time, and these are my tiny little reminders to turn it off.

So I’m going to go enjoy the falling snow and the napping cats and the dishwasher, full night sleep I got, and certainly that darn Oreo!  I’m vertical and ventilated…and that’s the greatest gift of all.

Inspiration uploading……

uploading

Dropped Off…

…the complete and total face of the Earth.

I mean, to the point that I am questioning my own existence.  I know that “life happens”.  I am aware that children and jobs and just life can suck you right in.

But what the heck just happened?!

One minute I’m connected to the world and up on the news and the what’s what, the next minute I feel like, what I can only equate to, a chick coming out of the egg.

chick

I attribute all of this….ALL OF IT, I SAY….to the fact that the baby is almost two.  We all know, or at least have heard, of the “Terrible Twos” and the “Thrashing Threes”.  But I will flat out confess that *this mama* totally forgot about the few months prior.

Oh.

 

My.

Lord.

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I am pretty sure I took a shower this morning.  I at LEAST physically got *in* and had water running.  Whether or not any cleaning took place is a guess because most of my focus was on trying to keep the water in the shower due to the child grabbing the shower curtain and yanking it full off.  Then, of course, trying to stave her off while she tried to climb in fully clothed in fleecy footie pajamas.  Oh, and not to mention then taking anything from the shower she could reach and tossing it as far as she possibly could because she was mad at me.

Time out?  Ha.  HA! I SAY!  Because how in creation do you give a kid a time out when you’re in the shower?  YOU DON’T!  This isn’t lack of parenting.  This is full tilt reality.  To all of you parents, or those in the role of parent, I raise a well ice-laden glass of adult beverage to you because this is all very, VERY real.  And we do it every day.  I’m not saying anyone without children doesn’t have their struggles, because you do.

What I am saying is that not everyone can appreciate a 2 year old meltdown and the grocery store in the middle of the seafood counter because she wants a piece of ice that the shrimp is sitting in.  Oh, and we certainly can’t forget all of the looks and under the breath comments that are being made.  Yes.  Yes I did just walk away from her and say, “Bye” because I have been dealing with this 2 legged monster ALL MORNING.  Would you rather me take a swing at her?!?!  Maybe you would like to try to control her body that quickly fluctuates between rigor mortis type stiffness to jellyfish consistency with the thrashing of a netted fish and the “death to you” type will of an MMA fighter.  Please….be my ever-loving guest.  And you are right, I do look crazy because I CAN’T REMEMBER IF I SHOWERED and have been held hostage in my house by that evil dictator that is screaming on the floor by the halibut!

done

But then she gets up, and yells, “Mom-Mom”, and I turn faster than an Indy car to make sure she is quite alright.  And those still-fairly-new-to-walking chunky legs move their fastest to get to me as I am half running, bent over with outstretched arms to her.  We collide, both apologetic, both happy the moment is over, and both fully in love and reassured in each other’s arms.

And I would do it over every minute of every day of every month of every year – because, above all things, you are my gift.  My precious girl.  My tiny little life terrorist.  My innocent to protect and guide and teach.  No matter how many times, or how much time is needed, I will always put you (and your sisters) first.

Darn it.  What can I say?

Love is love is love – and it’s all good!

Best-Hugs-20-Tangled