I open and close this page way too many times a week. I’m an over thinker. You’re surprised, yes? Heh. I open the same page each morning, expecting words to come flowing out of me, yet they don’t come. At times I wonder if they will again. Then I close the page and move on with my day.
This morning, I read something that changed how I’ve been thinking about this blog for sometime. It was a simple comment that Sweetney left for Laid Off Dad in his most recent post. She said, “not everything has to be deep and meaningful” and it’s completely shifted something in my mind. For so long, I used this blog as therapy. I needed this space to free the words out of my head. On occasion, I still do. A brain dump every now and then is needed. Yet, this blog isn’t my therapy anymore. In the moment, I’m doing really well.
That leaves little to talk about when one believes everything written must have some sort of meaning behind it. But it doesn’t. This is my blog and as my friend Cherry told me the other day, I can use it however I want. Between her comment to me and Tracey’s comment to Doug, I guess I know what I need to do from here on out. I need to say whatever I want, whenever I want. You all don’t need to just hear from me when I’m a mess, I can tell you the everyday stuff as well. Which in this moment, I suppose means I’m talking about nothing. Ha. Nothing is my favorite. Nothing is such an easier place to be. Maybe this will even get me blogging again. We shall see.
Let’s see what I can update you on.
My girls are out of school in something ridiculous like two weeks and three days. They’ll start day camp right away though, so it’s not like much changes. Well except for the luxury of check in time being whenever, no homework and no two zillion forms to sign a week.
I finally feel like I’m over the stress of tax season. I’ve, in the past few days, felt myself relax a bit. I’m sleeping again (mostly), my shoulders aren’t in knots all the time and I’ve stopped grinding my teeth non-stop. My house is cleaner than it’s been in months and this weekend I finally tackled Mt. Laundry. Now if my back would heal quicker, I’d be doing great.
Mothers’ Day was super laid back, just how I like my Sundays to be. We went and saw The Avengers, which was amazing and just how I like my movies to be. Full of explosions and hot super heroes. We had popcorn for lunch and ice cream for dinner. All in all, it was pretty great.
This morning I purchased tickets to our very exciting summer vacation location: Tulsa, Oklahoma. You’re jealous aren’t you? I can tell. 
After the kids went to bed last night, I watched the Sister Wives episode. I should apologize for my horrible taste in TV. However when I think about all the shows that are out there, my love of Sister Wives, The Duggars and Dance Moms isn’t so bad. REALLY!!!! It’s not. A guilty pleasure is just that, a guilty pleasure.
What’s your guilty pleasure TV?
This morning I woke up in the bed that my son is now calling my “welly tall tall bed”. It is taller, courtesy of a new 4 inch memory foam topper and my bed feels brand new. I love brand new. After a week elsewhere, I can’t begin to tell you how nice it was to wake up in my bed, nestled next to two very leggy individuals.
This morning I woke up to my alarm. I took a shower, fed and clothed my children, made lunches and tried not to yell at my daughter who couldn’t find the shoes that were six inches from her person. Welcome home right?
This morning I stepped on Lego’s at my house, instead of the ones at her house. I’d say it’s sad, but it’s not really. Will I in a week or two miss her and wish I was there? Yes. For a bit, yes. But I’ve come to the place that I’m glad to be here. On Saturday the lady at Trader Joe’s, upon hearing that I was from California, asked me if I would move back at some point. My honest answer was probably not. This is my home now.
This morning I was actually on time to work. It’d of been more impressive if I hadn’t logged on to see that my boss is out of town for a few days. If you are on time to work but no one notices, does it even count?
On my phone are photos. Beautiful photos. Photos of family. Photos of friends who feel like family. Good cake. Photos of my favorite beach. When I miss it, I will look at these photos. At some point when that isn’t enough…well I’ll plan another trip.
I don’t know what’s right. I don’t know when to push and when to shut up.
Morgan started health class yesterday. She will go for and hour and a half each day for a week, I believe. Yesterday, I tried to get her to talk about what she heard. I’m curious and I want to know how much of it she understood. Her reaction was exactly what I expected. “I’m never talking about that. I’m never believing that. I’m never doing THAT. THE END.”
Perfectly normal reaction from a ten year old who isn’t ready to learn about something. It’s okay for her to feel that way. Maybe in some way everyone does.
Yet…I don’t know what to say to her. I don’t know what to do. I’ll be honest and tell you that I was FULLY willing to sign the form to get her out of this, half because I don’t know how to deal with this. I don’t know how to help her with this. I didn’t sign the form, because I knew it wasn’t right for her. I made her go, because it was the right thing to do. Not because I wanted her to go. Just…it was right. I try so hard to do the right things by my kids even when it hurts me. This one is hurting me.
I’m sitting here writing this through tears.
I am afraid that I’m ill-equipped to deal with this. My view of sex and all of that is skewed. I was abused as a child. I was younger than my younger daughter is right now when it started. Barely seven years old. I cry when I look at my girls and remember me at their ages. I’ve come to terms with that…as much as I can at least. But it doesn’t mean I know how to keep my child innocent while making sure she learns what she’s supposed to learn.
I don’t know how to do this. Do I let her stay silent? I know for her, it’s just embarrassment. Nothing has happened to her, this I am sure of. She is just embarrassed. At some point she will get curious and bring it up. Do I wait? Does it matter if it’s a month from now? Or a year? Do I push it? Give her time and space? Bring it up occasionally? I honestly don’t know. I need you guys to tell me. What’s normal in this situation? I am not normal. I am broken. In this way, I am broken. My baby isn’t. She is perfectly normal.
What do I say? What do I do? One of you has to know. Please help me.
Three months of tax season and barely posting has left me kind of timid online. I don’t know what to share, what to keep to myself. I’m not sure if the story my friend told me the other day about her lesbian boss is funny just to me, or if it would be funny to you all as well. (The, I went to church to find Jesus, but I found Anita instead part was funny.) I’ll get there you know?
Or at least I think I will. At times I consider being done with this blogging thing. Walking away. As hard as I’ve fought it, I’m not sure personal blogs have a place anymore. Twitter and Facebook are the norm. We all share there. Me included. Blogging about paid events, paid writing, paid stuff is the way it is now. Honestly, I’m not against any of that. It’s just not how or why I’ve done this for so many years. I am, at times, unsure why I still do this.
Maybe that’s the exhaustion talking. I’m exhausted people. I’m exhausted from living my work life at warp speed for 3.5 months. I’m exhausted from not sleeping for the past week. Nerve pain in my foot is keeping me up for hours and hours each night. My parents and aunt and uncle are here this week and that is fun, yet tiring. Trying to reclaim my house and life after so long, is a long process.
I’m not saying I’m shutting down, so don’t feel like you have to say anything about it. I just came here to talk. To let some things out. This is where I am. Unsure what comes next. Unsure why I’m still doing this. When I started Morgan had just turned four. Everything she said and did was fair game. Now, she’s ten. It’s just not the same. Well that and my ex would rather me never talk about any of them online. Ahem.
Anyway…in other news, my best friend is a super sneak. (See post below.) I adore her for that and a zillion other reasons. I was actually shocked. Not much shocks me these days, but that did. So she wins. I had a really, really good birthday, which I wasn’t expecting since the previous two had been spent on vacation. How does one compare to that? Well you can’t, yet I still had a great day.
Bailey FINALLY lost her first tooth. I didn’t do the tooth fairy. Sorry…that is the one thing I just never understood. Walk into my childs room and root around under her head while she’s SLEEPING, on PURPOSE? Are you INSANE? Maybe had Bailey been born first, I’d of done this. But Morgan was first and the thought of waking her up on accident still scares me to this day, so no thank you. However my girl is very happy to no longer be the only KID IN THE WHOLE WORLD MAMA who hadn’t lost a tooth at seven.
After much deliberation (on Facebook, Twitter, with my mom and aunt and asking pretty much everyone I know) I decided that Morgan DID need to go to health class this week. You know, learn about sex and stuff health class? Yeah. That’s what she’s doing this week. Yay her! She asked me to write her a note to get out of it. I was willing because she’s so uncomfortable with the whole subject and I know she wouldn’t ask for anything else, but then I heard she’d of been the only kid out of it and I told her she had to suck it up and deal. Well it’s more complicated than that, but you get my drift. Morgan, for those who don’t know, skipped kindergarten. She is a year ahead. Which is fine in almost every sense of it. It’s just that she’s honestly not ready for this. I told her to draw when she gets to uncomfortable and we’d talk about it each night. Best I can do.
Harrison is very, very three. He’s so awesome and so very tiring.
I’m going on vacation next week. Half a week with family, half a week with friends. It should be very fun. Kinda wishing I was there right now. But it will come.
Over the weekend I read Bloom by Kelle Hampton. Good grief I cried a lot. It’s a very touching, sweet book. An easy read. I cried through um….the whole thing? It was good.
That’s all I know.
I can tell you how I’m doing. How I caught the cold from hell…possibly over the Internet, last Friday. I spent the better part of the last week, only breathing through my mouth. It’s sad how much I take breathing through my nose for granted until I can’t do it. I’m mostly better. Say at about 80% or so. That’s a vast improvement. Thankfully colds don’t last forever, even when they feel like they will.
I can tell you how I’ve bruised my tailbone. How or when? Well…as usual I have no idea. What can I say, I’m clumsy. I know it’s pretty much killing me right now to do anything. Yet here I sit working anyway. I’ll tell you…putting on socks is something I take for granted too. If anyone knows of any pain reliver/tailbone relief let me know. Besides lay in bed or go to the doctor. Those are two things I have no time for.
I could tell you how much tax season sucks…but we’ve already discussesd that and well it hasn’t changed.
Mostly though, I’m curious about all of you. I wish I had time to catch up with everyones blog. I wish I had time to spend shooting the shit on Twitter. Or really even answering emails. But I don’t. Time is something I don’t have right now. My Twitter stream sits mostly empty, my blog reader consistently full, my emails sit unanswered. The only TV show I’m up to date on is The Voice, which is currently my favorite show.
I’m hoping you’ll all humor me and tell me something that is going on in your life. I’m truly curious. See a good movie? Read a good book? Anything good happen? Anything bad I should know about?
Winter. I’m officially over winter. I tried. Man, I tried so hard. For the first year ever, I went into winter thinking, okay I can do this. It won’t get to me. I will find enjoyment in how pretty the snow is. It was a valiant attempt. I made it farther than I thought I would.
But here I sit, over it. It’s February, the end of February even. I woke up to another six inches of snow this morning. I woke up to a massive sinus headache, because my head can’t handle the back and forth of winter any longer. It’s giving up in protest.
I’m tired of shoveling snow. I’m tired of driving in it. I’m tired of seeing it, especially the large piles of black snow in all store parking lots. I’m tired of how cold and dry it is. Dear winter, my eczema is over you too. Enough with looking for the kids gloves and hats each morning. Enough with snow boots. Enough!
It’s time for for it to go. I want to see grass, leaves and flowers. I want to eat fruit that isn’t bananas and apples. I long for flip-flops and short sleeves shirts. I long for evenings spent at the park and going for ice cream right before bedtime.
I’m done with winter.
Mornings are kicking my ass this week. Mornings make me cry. Not just the effort that is needed to get up, but everything. The amount of work I know I need to accomplish today makes me cry. The fact that tomorrow is my first working Saturday of tax season makes me cry. Its just the first of many working Saturdays to come. The words I read on your posts make me want to cry.
By say noon, I’m generally fine. But dam mornings have been tough the last two weeks. My kids have been late more days than I’m willing to tell you. My dog has needed to be taken to the groomer for a month. Half the time when I walk in a store, I can’t remember what I needed, until I get home and look around and see that what I went for, I didn’t come home with.
I swore last year would be my last tax season. It’s just so much work. It’s hard to be me during tax season. It’s hard to be a mother during tax season. It’s hard to own a home during tax season. There is time and energy needed in parenting and home ownership. Time and energy are things I’m lacking right now.
Yet in this economy, there just aren’t jobs everywhere. I tried for months to find something else. Something a bit more normal. Nothing. So here I sit, going through another tax season. I’m thankful I have this job. I’m thankful for the financial stability and phenomenal health insurance it gives me and my kids.
The thing is, I’m good at my job. It just exhausts me this time of year. Am I whiny? Yes. I’ll admit to it. Grouchy too. I’m also pretty sure it’s justified. Because I am already exhausted and it’s only mid February.
Yesterday while talking to my best friend, I realized I needed to reevaluate how I did things right now. Meals need to become easy. Plain and simple, I have to let go of that one right now. Dino nuggets are good enough. On their days with me, my girls can eat school lunches. House work needs to be done on emergent need only. I need to make lists on my iPhone so I have it with me all the time. I need to give myself a break. I can’t be everything and do everything. There is just no way.
I won’t lie…I was thrilled when my book club picked the book I already read.
One of the things that has already fallen by the wayside is me being online. During the rest of the year, my job, as you can imagine, is quite slow. It leaves me ample time to mess around online. Too much time if you want to know the truth. But this is the career I have. Sink or swim, no in-between. For now, I’ve been online some. But I can’t keep up. I won’t even pretend to try. Posting may go by the wayside. Reading all of your lovely blogs and commenting, is just not possible. You likely won’t see me on Twitter much. It’s just my reality for the next few months. Please know it’s not you. I didn’t stop reading because of anything except lack of time. I’ll still be around at times, but I’ll come back for reals after April 15th…or 17th or whatever stupid day the government changed it to this year.
Maybe if I was writing this in the afternoon it wouldn’t seem so depressing. But it’s morning and this is where I am right now. I’m just trying to float. My mantra is Dory from Finding Nemo. Just keep swimming. Just keep swimming. All I can do is keep trying. All I can do is keep swimming. Because sinking just isn’t an option.
but I still want to attempt to write. Leaving what I wrote on Monday up at the top will stop me from writing if I leave it there too long. Words have power, even posts with few words.
I won’t lie…yesterday was one majorly harsh day. I won’t even try to tell you all the crazy stuff I thought. Let’s just say, yesterday I blamed myself. Yesterday, I walllowed all day. I cried for most of the day. I moped. I ate only cookies. I grieved for what never was.
Yesterday she told me that tomorrow would be better. That the day after that will be a bit better and the day after that. I believe her even when I don’t feel it, because after nearly three years as friends, I know she’s almost always right.
Today? Well I’m still sad, but I’m okay. I’m going to make today a better day. Today I will look at the mini roses my step-dad sent me yesterday and know that spring will come. I will think about the place I’ll plant them in my garden. I’ll remind myself that April will be here before I know it and I can try again. Today I will re-read all of your sweet comments and hold onto your belief that I will get there. You guys believing in me at a time where I’m struggling to believe helps me more than I can say.
Today I am okay.
is that you have to keep sharing. Even when all you want to do is not. Even when all you want to do is hide in bed.
It didn’t work. I’m not pregnant. I have to start over. I’ll have to wait a few months before I can do that, because of tax season.
I literally got the call from my doctor two minutes after my period started. My period which never starts early or on time or at all without assistance. But hey early it is.
Negative. That’s what I know.
When you are three and a few months…
You can tell a roomful of family at a birthday dinner that you are allowed to touch your penis in your room only. Not at the table. In your mind, they all needed to know this. They will all laugh.
You will ask for apple sauce, have a tantrum about not wanting apple sauce and then eat the apple sauce all while your mother looks at you still trying to decide what to say.
You think that the red car with the smiling teeth grill is a real car from Cars. You will then proceed to tell everyone you see that you saw the real life Lightening McQueen.
You will teach your baby cousin to “say his name” even though you’ve somehow forgotten that Baby G’s real name isn’t Baby G.
You will Tebow everywhere because your daddy taught you how. Everyone will think it’s funny. Even when done at the grocery store and someone nearly runs you over. You get a pass for being three and cute.
When you are seven and a half…
You will read The Tale of Despereaux and then watch the movie and want to discuss the differences at great length. Your mother will find this amazing and tell all of your grandparents.
You will get grouchy at your mother for not managing to stay awake for this boring beyond boring of all movies on any viewing. But hey, she’ll still gladly discuss the slightly less boring book at great length with you.
You will come home each day with stories of who lost teeth today. You will yet again ask if you are the only person in the world who will forever have baby teeth. The answer of course is yes and then you’ll be in the Guinness Book of World Records for only adult with all baby teeth.
You make the Harry Potter Knight Bus out of Legos and then take it apart to do it again, at least twice a week.
You claim that every food in the world is inedible. There is rumor that you live off air and jokes. The only food you want at any given meal is either one we are just now out of or possibly one that doesn’t yet exist.
You tell better original jokes than most high paid comedians.
When you are ten…
You yell at your siblings if they even look at your perfectly built Hogwarts Lego creation. You’d never consider taking it apart. It was a one time deal that you plan on enjoying looking at forever.
You take up texting. Or more technically iMessage. You will text both of your parents non-stop. (Or what feels like non-stop to them.) Even when sitting on the couch next to them. It’s cute. In a, sort of getting old, way.
You figure out how to add a signature to your texts, which neither of your parents know how to do. You change it on a day to day basis, depending on your mood. For example, yesterdays signature was: I’d like a kitten. Texts tend to look like this: Hi! I’d like a kitten. What are you doin? I’d like a kitten. Mommy can you change the chanel? I’d like a kitten. Can I watch Idol? I’d like a kitten.
You decide to learn to bake. Muffins are your current favorite.
You will sob when your favorite skier passes away from a head injury. This was the first time a hero of yours has died and it has made you incredibly sad. It’s a first that I wish I could have protected you from. Thankfully it has not made you fear skiing.
You will one day announce that it’s high time Harrison learns to read. The fact that he just turned three and still screams each time someone makes him blow his nose makes no difference. You are going to be the one to teach him. What follows is a lot of entertaining attempts at getting him to look at the letter and word cards that you have made up. He in turn makes them into weird ramps for his cars. This will be a process.
When you are thirty one…
You will want to hug every single person on the entire Internet for their kind words this past week.
You will laugh hysterically at an ill placed hanging fairy during a procedure.
You will tell the nurse when she asks you to tell her if it’s uncomfortable, how about I tell you if it hurts…because we are way past uncomfortable now. I mean see where you are and the entire army of medical instruments up my…yeah. Stopping now. Uncomfortable. She did laugh though.
You will decide to quit coffee cold turkey. Not because you don’t love coffee, because oh you adore coffee, but because in the moment you know it’s the right thing to do. Even after the headache starts you won’t give in…because some things are more important than a cup of coffee.
You buy Girl Scout cookies from the cute six year old girl at the door on general principal. You don’t even like GS cookies, but a few boxes now reside in your cupboard.
You will finally delete the six posts sitting in draft form. If they weren’t worthy then, they surely aren’t now.
You will thank everyone who still comes and reads here 600 posts later.
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