When All You Can Do Is Wait It Out

My daughter had some kind of flu bug or cold last week. She missed three days in a row of school and by day four she still had this residual low grade fever. I don't freak out about stuff, until someone tips me in the exact right direction to do so. This was Friday afternoon into Sunday morning, the freak out.

You Google things and all of the sudden you diagnose with cancer, shingles, pneumonia, bronchitis and so on and so forth. It gets ridiculous. You start telling all the moms you know and then they start telling you about classmate A having the flu for 2 weeks, classmate B getting some unknown viral infection and so on and so forth. I turned to my rational moms, the ones that know me, and know our family circumstances well enough. With a little extra laziness, essential oils, and Lysol-wiping down my entire home, by Sunday she woke up super normal.

It was one of those "All you can do is wait it out," moments. Of course with that, comes the waves of realization of how many times we're tested in the "wait it out" arena. We wait out test results, arguments, money to be allocated here, there and everywhere properly. We wait on text message responses, scheduling questions, doctor's appointments, dentists, plans to emerge, phone calls and so on and so forth. We have to wait it out often, but we never get used to it, and rarely are we calm.

When you get to that moment of just having to wait, there is usually unrest. Think of the hospitals with waiting rooms, waiting areas and the airports where you sit and wait to board. These places are uncomfortable, usually cold for me, filled with grouchy people, all because we are made to wait. Was it not the late, great Tom Petty who sang, "Waiting is the hardest part?" 

Mostly it's just not an easy or simple thing. Years ago when my daughter had surgery I told the doctor, "Overshoot the time frame. If you know it will be done in 2 hours, tell me 3 because at 120 minutes I'm banging down that door to make sure she is okay." I had friends specifically come to distract me for that time because otherwise I would just sit there staring at the clock.

I think I've quoted and regurgitated that whole "Patience is a virtue" thing since my dad embedded it within me at such a young age. Of course I said over and over, "Yes it is a virtue I do not possess myself." The waiting stuff is difficult, I don't care who you are.

This weekend I really had to remind myself of this over and over and over, that, all we could do was wait out the fever, wait for her to feel better, wait for her body to push out whatever was ailing her. That then transcended to, I have to wait for my body to respond to supplements, workout routines and getting consistent rest. I had to wait for friends and family in my life to reciprocate my reaching out, I couldn't "nag them" into it or make them respond according to my timeline.

Waiting things out is uncomfortable and unpleasant. You have no control. It was just like the recent hurricane, we just had to wait and see. Then that pushes us into the whole "we'll see" avenue of this walk of life. We just have to see how things go, how things turn out, and what all happens.

Unknowns are murky but a huge part of life. Not having control plays into the whole waiting it out conundrum as well. Mostly what the fever situation brought up within me, outside of the waiting stuff, was to be more trustworthy of my own gut instinct.

The maternal instinct stuff is incredibly real, as is following your gut. We have a neighbor across the street and they instantly thrust their daughter into friendship with ours and then into our care. Everything I know about the situation of their household, raises red flags for me. I've heard the little girl be not nice to my daughter, she's a picky eater, rude in general, and I've seen some things with the parents, step parents and grandparents that concern me a lot. So much tension and one kid in the mix. I stopped planning play dates because I just didn't want to get into all their personal lives and the kid was being mean to mine so for me, done deal.

This has been strange to explain to my daughter. My husband said that the girl across the street seemingly grew up and was nicer. What I explained to him was, in my gut I thought it better to not have much to do with them. What we know of the circumstances are unpleasant, and it's not my job to host that girl and make her a better person. It's my job to raise my daughter. My gut says no thank you and let's just wait and see how that family sorts out their stuff, eh?

We get used to instant gratification. We get used to getting things bigger, faster, stronger, better. Alas there just isn't much else to do when all you can do is wait it out. We have an upcoming road trip next week and I think what I worry about most is my daughter constantly complaining in the car, asking how long until we are there and her general inability to wait. As her mom, I get it, but it's definitely what I'm fearing most.

We get impatient and get sick of waiting so we act rashly. We act impulsively and text someone we shouldn't, hang out with people we shouldn't or get involved in things we shouldn't be all as some half baked distraction from the wait. What a cycle. All I know is if the fever broke, I'm hopeful to break the rest with waiting too. While it's just one day at a time, and keeping patience a virtue, I guess we really will see how it all turns out, each step of the way! 

Boundary Bound

I don't know why it's so difficult. Perhaps for some it's completely simple. For me, boundaries are tough. I don't believe that I disrespect the boundaries of others, but rather have the most difficult time making and enforcing my own.

It's almost October of 2019 and I think that I can safely dub 2019 as Alison's year of bounding towards boundaries. There are many helpful quotes and memes about boundaries, and these are often the posts I make on Instagram when struggling:

Fixing others has become less and less of a priority. Two years ago I reset my focus to just us three and started being completely honest about how we were working, trying and healing and anything that was a deterrent needed to go.

The saying no stuff? This has been infinitely more difficult. My biggest triumph was saying no to volunteering situations that made me stressed, unfulfilled and anxious. Now I have to learn to say no to negativity, and to not giving into the whims of others. Which leads us to "It's not my job to take responsibility for others." I am responsible for my daughter, my husband, my dog and myself. As far as the rest of you, you're on your own, I'm afraid.

Not having to anticipate the needs for others? If there was an award for worst at this, I might just win. I overthink what others might think and overthink to ready myself for all reactions, rationales and in-actions of others. Most of it is a weird self-preservation thing but mostly I just want to be "ready" for how others could affect me. I had an evening this past week where I didn't anticipate what a scenario could morph into and it hit me like a ton of bricks emotionally. This is all something I need more work on.

Nobody has to agree with me. I can actually agree with that. I don't feel the need that we all agree but I do still seek validation from people who have invalidated me in the past. This one is a struggle but a workable situation and it's something that I've paid close attention to.

The being responsible for my own happiness? I see the multifaceted-ness of that and it leaves it open for interpretation in my mind. The concept of happiness is a dangerous one to me. I think you're responsible for being mindful and present in your world and that is how you create calm and comfort, call it happy or not. I think some goal to be "happy" is slightly unrealistic because the ups and downs of life make us resilient, keep us growing and are also a huge part of healing trauma. This one is my least favorite on the list so far.

I have a right to my own feelings. Ughhhhh. I suck at this one too. You know I actually had to have my therapist tell me, I'm ALLOWED to feel what I feel? I recently listened to someone pour out their feelings to me and just took it all in because I had so loved knowing that I was allowed to feel things and I wanted to pass that on to someone else.

I have a right to express my needs honestly. This one is also a huge personal struggle because, especially as a woman we get the crap end of the stick I feel. A right to express my needs; well we all have a RIGHT to expression here in 'Murica. A right to express my feelings honestly? I mean I may have that right but how well received would it actually be? That would be my main concern. You can say what you need all the time, doesn't mean you'll be heard. 

Lastly, "I am enough." I think everyone struggles with that one, honestly. Enough of what, exactly? Boundaries are rough and so is that feeling of being "enough" in any sense. We build these walls in one way or another and then often can't see through them or even over the top. 

Being enough is probably an entire series of entries. We have some days where we feel enough and others where we feel inferior, less than and barely put together. Putting up boundaries is healthy but often easier said than done. When I work with boundaries, I always feel so happy when they serve me but immediately feel defeat if I don't get them to turn out as I'd hoped. There's a learning curve and a constant balancing act. 

I know I'm bound to figure out these boundaries someday. Sometimes I feel like I need many, many more and I'm bounded by being boundary-less! Other days I'm so ready to be the bountiful boundary woman with super boundary powers! I just hope it gets easier as I handle this whole adulting thing. Regardless, the blog will be full of reports all about it I'm sure!

Tag Team Parenting

Parenting is so difficult. And so very...weird. You have to selflessly maintain this little version of yourself and if you have a partner in doing so, you have to operate as a team so this tiny terrorist doesn't divide and conquer. Parenting is also, completely life altering and amazing.

Since the dawn of time, okay wait, since my daughter's birth my husband and I have worked, lived and learned to operate in opposite land. From infancy on, he would sleep while I was awake breastfeeding. He worked while I stayed with kid. He worked days, I worked nights. This was a point of contention, although now in retrospect, was just a trigger, because people would seemingly pity us for no time together, but not realize that we quickly adapted to the way things needed to be to keep us afloat. It was not a perfect world, but it was what we knew.

There are times when teamwork in parenting kind of sucks. My daughter and I have always had our own routine, our own groove. As much as we love having hubby/daddy around sometimes he definitely throws us off. There are times when we have to be mama bear and that maternal instinct leaves dads in the dust, but we always know best!

There are some days that tag team parenting goes off without a hitch. You will have schedules, decisions, discussions and all operations will go as needed and then it's bedtime and you can rest with your success! Other days it feels like a bike with one busted training wheel just, off. It's constant checks and balances. 

As a hospitality manager, my husband works late mornings through to late nights. As an executive assistant I work an 8 to 5 situation in an office, but let's face it, I'm an on the clock mom non-stop. This isn't to say that as a parent my hubby isn't on the clock non-stop as a dad, but most kids run to mom first. I'm the one woken up with a bad nightmare or a fever or an accident in bed or being sick. Sometimes my husband isn't home yet for that stuff. I'm also the first one up and always make sure that she has everything done and things are in order before bedtime, to better start that early morning.

Last year my husband stepped up hugely and took on full morning duty with the kid. While I'm the last alarm, leaving for work as they just start to move around, he gets her ready, lunch packed, school supplies together, out the door and dropped off, every single school day. He's also emergency pick-up for when traffic messes with me getting her. In change, I'm the bedtime guru. The books, the dinners, the earning TV time, the baths, the laundry and the chores. This to me, is the ultimate tag team parenting. We each do our "shift" and our part.

Our routine is a constant reminder that everyone's routine is just so completely different and what works for each household, is not always meant for us. We've created our own thing. While mostly I appreciate the concern that we don't get enough date nights and family time, I never really enjoy the commentary: "Oh so you don't have much time together then? Oh just one day off? One night a week?" It's innocent enough but triggering at the same time.

It used to be such a point of contention that I got frustrated when people didn't take into consideration the full scope of how opposite our schedules were. Now I understand that most people can't grasp what that's even like because they don't come from the same reality. For me at least, that's easier to wrap my head around. 

I've seen all different kinds of households run in different ways, especially as a nanny. I once had a mom pay me my normal wage for the day to go hiking with her and the kids. I once worked for a mom that waited tables in the restaurant where my husband worked and her husband made glass pipes and bongs in their warehouse on their property and they rarely stocked their kitchen so I'd often bring us both lunches and snacks. 

From my nanny years I definitely learned about all the different kinds of families but you never know parenting until you step into it. It actually does take a village. However over this past year, it has shown me that no matter how uncomfortable or weird it is to tag team every aspect of parenting, it makes all the positive and productive difference in the world. 

You have to discuss sick day coverage and adjustments for kiddo and parents alike. You have to talk about sport schedules, birthday parties, plans and all the routines. You have to make money decisions and even anticipate bigger picture stuff. All the while we're teaching this little human to take their time, do one thing at a time, do this then that and so forth. Completely weird, right?

When I've heard the moms complain about the dads it always sounds like they work too much but aren't home enough. But then they are reminded that the guys are providing for the family so that's to be "expected." Well, yes and no. Expectations are yucky, regardless, but I really think the best and safest expectation is that you'll have to tag team all the parenting stuff, through the best of times, and especially the worst of times.

There will be phases where one parent is the heavy or one may be doing more than the other. There will be phases that feel lonely and unfair but the whole point is to raise the tiny humans, keep them alive, and not mess them up too much, and to do so TOGETHER. Together also doesn't just mean MOM and DAD. It could be two moms, two dads, a mom and uncle, a mom and grandma, a grandma and an aunt, a dad and an uncle. The point is you need to tag-team it and find that definition that works for you.

I think it takes a lot of patience but also attention to recognize how much support is needed to pull off this whole parenting gig. There are mom squads, play dates, family hang outs, church, sports, clubs and so on and so forth and all of it involves one form or another of tag team parenting. 

Even in separation, divorce, old family dynamics and new family dynamics it's all a team effort. So remember that every family, every situation is different and some are recruiting new teammates and some are already full of the players they need. Regardless, appreciate the village, the team and maybe one specific teammate you have by ya to wrangle these crazy children that we've been given the blessing of calling our own. 

Emotional Smog Intake

Last night I had a meltdown. It was quiet and over something seemingly fixable, stupid and ridiculous. Last night I felt the emotional eruption that would leave dust, smoke and smog and I was fighting for air.

Have you ever had to take in so much from "the other" that you've left no room for anything of your own? This other could be a friend, a sister, a cousin, a husband, a kid, a neighbor, whomever. Have you ever had to take in all of the stuff and then figure out where to put it but you come out just feeling depleted and without storage capacity? This happened to me last night.

Refreshingly when I explained my tears and tantrum to my husband he said, "Okay, I can see how that could be taxing." It just kind of took me over. Remember that epic cartoon movie Ferngully? Remember Hexxus?

Yeah it was like that. Where just this dark emotional, pollution of smog just came in and knocked me right out.

It didn't come out in the midst of the multiple exchanges I had that have now been identified as triggering. Like secondhand smoke it came in small increments but throughout the day, consistently. It was like, I'd get close to a mental wall, then regroup, then get hear a higher spiky wall, regroup and then a wall with a moat, then regroup but finally I was like "I can't do this."

What couldn't I do? I couldn't order take out food. I lost it when I inadvertently messed up my order, overpaid or was overcharged, whatever, and then came home to my super-husband handling our puking first grader himself, in an attempt to give me a calm, happy evening. 

Everything mentally collapsed in front of me and came down to "I just wanted a burrito bowl and I can't even order that! I've been dying to try this place and I'm so hangry, I'm stressed about spending on this, money is tight and I just can't deal!" Yes all of that, from a big emotional fog.

I paint myself as a good friend, good listener and someone there for you. I can do that for people, and like being a reliable support system. That isn't to say that everyone doesn't have limitations. I was definitely unaware I could hit all of mine in one day.

First there was the mom guilt of needing to be home for the sick kiddo but hubby was off anyway, and he assured me that he could handle it just fine. Then there is the money worries and budget, which just sets in ANY TIME I BUY ANYTHING THAT ISN'T A "need." Add into that the emotional intake of all others and just me being anxious, and I had run myself into empty.

My husband was actually rational and kind about how the whole day ended up, which was better than what I had envisioned. I was still able to get some sleep but I'm definitely feeling hazy today.

It's such a weird thing. I was so intent on listening and I have heard things so closely but so much of what I've heard hasn't been things to take "lightly" so to speak. Life is heavy. I desperately try to operate with no judgment but sometimes, I gotta say, I kinda wanted to scream a bit. Everyone has their trauma, their struggles and their ongoing battles, but we have to remain open and grateful.

I'll admit I still wrestle with that whole "listen not to just wait to speak" thing where you have to actively listen rather than just wait your turn to talk thing. Yesterday it was all listening and less and less being heard when already feeling maxed out in the unheard department, that when I wasn't heard "quite properly" for the food order, the smog filled my lungs and make me cry in frustration. 

When my daughter was complaining about not feeling good I asked her if something else was going on and she admitted to me that she was stressed about having a new job in her classroom. Of course now I know that her little immune system was seriously struggling but she was definitely feeling the stress of change. She gets this from me. I always physically feel all my mentalities fighting it out.

While I'm navigating all of this, shakily, with blurred vision and desperate for more rest and reboot I've come to the conclusion that I really need to be more self-preservative. I really need to keep those boundaries in place. This whole "incident" wasn't anyone's fault or completely avoidable, but it sure was quite a reality check. While I feel fortunate that I recognize this all, and have some more support than I'd anticipated, boy did it shift some perspective. 

I think I'll be working through this for awhile. I'm sure the whole thing will be blogged out and thought out in one way or another. Happy Wednesday readers!

Quotes, Notes And Being In The Same Boats

I am a self -proclaimed "quote hoarder." My attachment to Instagram is 90% quote and affirmation related. I have notebooks in storage just filled. Why? Quotes are a great pick me up. Ironically I'd heard a story about someone during world suicide awareness week and in reference to people's struggle with suicidal thoughts it was mentioned that maybe Social Media was a negative influence and when we are down we don't need to find the next inspirational quote but look to higher powers.

While I appreciate the sentiment, I'm the opposite. When I'm in the worst mood or head-space, I look to the perfect quote, perfect song lyric or perfect phrase to support where I am mentally and to give me a perspective on it. Notes come along the same lines in terms of, sending a note or positive affirmation when you're having a bad day might in turn shape someone else's day into something better.

As far as being in the same boat or boats for cutesy rhyming title reasons, I think that feeling as though you're not alone and adrift is kind of important. Yesterday was a Monday of a Monday. Not only did I "party" hard on Sunday with calories and all things meant for Saturdays in retrospect, but effectively reminded myself of my age, and that my body is slightly delicate. Yesterday I was just off my game. 

My entire household stayed up too late Sunday pretending it wouldn't matter. My daughter and I suffered the most and just ended the day fragile and in a funk. Yesterday instead of having a shorter attention span in my exhaustion, however, I was able to channel some soft maternal instincts and be a serious mother.

When I picked up my little one I could tell she was down a peg. She's not sick but her allergies are killing her. We have a regimen to combat it but when she started feeling better, we got lazy and she had a bit of a revisit from the snots and sinus stuff. Yesterday I said, "Okay let's forget the normal rules and get you to just chill."

We made some agreements on how the night would go. I let some of the rules slide and she did pretty well. When I got her to communicate properly her anxiety about being assigned "new jobs" in class tomorrow was part of the issue, but also just needed a good night's sleep and some medicine to help with her feeling a little off. I was able to keep my calm in my hangry, sleepy state.

Okay I lost it once when she tried to get sour cream and then Nutella on my sheets. EW! I said go clean up and keep your face off my linens! Kids are gross!

There was a weird sense of comfort knowing we were both in the same boat. She was anxious about school. I was anxious about life. I literally admitted to myself yesterday that I had extended myself out to people and was in over my head, like, I was not equipped to handle their drama.

Last night and today I have been saving and pinning and noting all the quotes. Some are silly. Some are inspirational, and some are ironic. I've posted in excess on Instagram because I'm sorting things out with all of my coping mechanisms. Sometimes I feel like in this age of technology my emotions and rationalizations are a vision board of all the feels. Anxiety makes me feel scattered and all over, but if I can collect my thoughts into one succinct sentence, maybe I can re-frame them into something pretty? Like a collage!? 

I also build scenarios for the reactions of others. I go over how conversations may or may not play out. Yes, it is exhausting being inside my head. This is why I work out. I physically tire out my body so my mind gets shut off as my body hits "sleep mode" at bed time. Ridiculous but true.

I feel comforted with quotes. I feel comfort with being in the same boat or boats with like-minded people. With the quotes, I feel it's a reminder that someone, somewhere felt that too, and now you have the words to put the feelings down on paper. With the boats I just feel like not being alone is always a good thing to remember, I mean the planet is packed. Alone alone would be quite an achievement, but finding commonality is crucial.

Sometimes when I see my daughter acting too much like me, it can be cringe-worthy but last night being in the same tired, whiny boat with her made me more compassionate and considerate, which I really held close to my heart. Being able to turn it out and "be a mom," is not something I do with confidence, so when it happens I kind of want to do a happy dance. Ironically yesterday I did find an awesome quote about how moms need to take care of themselves, how moms need self care because kiddos need them, so maybe that quote did the work necessary to carry me through.

As I'm rounding out all the ideas for this installment of the blog, I would want to leave this idea with my readers; we all have our own coping mechanisms for when we are going through mentally stressful times. We all have our own triggers, so what works for you, let work FOR you. Maybe all my posting will have people asking "What is she doing?" Maybe people will just think "She's probably sorting things out." Maybe people won't even notice. For now, for me, for this day and this time and this mentality that I'm operating within, the quotes, the notes and the being in same boats are all pushing me through process. Find what's yours and keep working!

Home Projects And Making The Best Of What You Have

I would never call anything in my house besides maybe a paint color, "decor" or how I would choose to "decorate." I work with what I have. Carefully and repeatedly. I am the queen of reuse and re-purpose, time and again.

I wouldn't say we do a great deal of "home projects," per say, but I would say that I clean and rearrange things often. I always feel like a small little lift or change can bring new life to an old set-up. In a perfect world I would have disposable income to go to Ikea or Rooms To Go and buy whatever my heart desires. This is not my reality.

This past month has been a lot of humbling realizations. When shopping for a wedding I stopped stressing about what I didn't have and decided to work with what I did. This weekend was another lesson in that.

My husband had repaired and changed out our bathroom fan last year and since then we've had a bit of a moisture issue in our attached closet. I got the little dehumidifier, I use DampRid often, it gave me a great excuse for a purge and I use Febreeze a lot as well. Eventually we need a better fan but this year, every time I think we can go drop the $150 on it, something else comes up. 

There began to be a mold problem...on the shoes. To be clear, I don't have nice things. Most of what I own can be easily washed so, there's that, but there are a couple pairs of boots and nice shoes that I couldn't just watch become yucky.

I have a cube shelf I built from Target like 3 or 4 years ago that has been used for everything. We've had it in the kitchen, the closet, the living room and so on and it has lasted most in my closet for my clothes and shoes. The other day when I was cleaning it came to me, the decorative vision. Whoa.

If I moved the shelf into the entryway and added another rack to hang things it could be a make-shift mud room entrance thing and keep ALL the shoes in the front. No shoes in rooms, just in the shoe station. With extra hangers we would have space for gym bags, hats purses, oh my. I wonder if the husband would go for it.

I gave my husband the play by play. I would use a toy bin in the closet, toys would go in baskets on shelf, shoes would all live in the shoe bins in the front of the house. He went for it. We moved around some other things too, including a chore board for the kiddo. It didn't even take that long, nor was it much of a pain. I was happy enough with the result to share immediately on Instagram.

The whole success of the day got me thinking about how much we lack using the resources we have, and how we are so quick to buy or obtain some kind of other solution than using what's in front of us. How many times do we get upset and overwhelmed, or should I ask, how many times do I get upset and overwhelmed over not being able to "afford" things, when I have the tools and resources around me?

This can go a long way. You can get something used. You could ask a friend or Facebook or Instagram grouping if they have something to be rid of you need or know of anyone purging things you may need. Use what is in front of you! Make the best of what you have! Also, if it ain't broke don't fix it!

We get caught up a lot in commercials and social ideas of how things should look so we start to get down on our own set ups. Do you know what a coat of paint can do? It can completely transform a space or piece of furniture, and quickly. 

I've gone through phases of loving home projects and hating them all the same, but I think, much as with everything, everything has a season. With Florida Fall in full swing I saw this seasonal change in more ways than one. Friday night my daughter asked to be taken to Third Friday, which is a monthly event in our town with food, vendors and music. We hadn't been, maybe in a year.

Why? My daughter would complain about walking the strip. She would want treats and would need to stop to pet every dog. She wouldn't listen and it would always end up in meltdown. This year I fed her dinner and said, "One treat." She didn't complain about walking and she made very good compromises and listened well. She did pet all the dogs and hugged all her school friends. She had a blast and I felt happy that she did so well. This is her season of showing me she's grown and being able to do more.

Maybe I'm in a season where I can see the beginnings and ends of fair, doable projects. Maybe I'm in the season where they don't bum me out or overwhelm me because I have people in my way or someone telling me I can't. Maybe this is becoming my time to do more. 

I work hard to make sure that I make the very best of what I have. I remind my husband often that we are lucky to have what we do and we should stay grateful. My daughter has been talking about missing our old rental house and I just try and respond kindly reminding her that we made great memories there but we now have our own space to do anything we want with and needed a bigger better home. She's getting there I think.

Life is difficult. Life is stressful and exhausting. We put a lot of "extra" on ourselves. Perhaps this can be a season of less being more. I for one am exploring this idea to the fullest and can't wait to see where it takes us!

Recipe for Success

It happened. I did it. And that could very well be the end of this entry. Kidding!

I don't cook. I'm not saying that in a snobby "above it all," way. I don't cook. In my childhood my father did all of the cooking. My mom made lasagna and questionable choices. That's about it. Okay and salad.

My dad made Mac and Cheese, full Thanksgiving Dinner, ham and potatoes, potato soup, split pea soup, chili, spaghetti, manicotti, stew, sweet and sour chicken, tacos, sloppy joes, pork chops, fried chicken and so on and so forth. 

When I was 16 my first friend at a new high school taught me how to get boys to make you a girlfriend, and how to scramble eggs. My sister taught me when I was 17 or 18 how to make french toast and grilled cheese. When I tried to make grilled cheese for my dad, he said I was using too much butter and doing it wrong. I no longer make grilled cheese but occasionally bust out some french toast.

I make epic sandwiches and delicious salad combos. I make a lot of plans. I burn rice, I rush things and get frustrated, and I successfully make banana bread that I am the only one that likes, although my daughter will have some on occasion.

I've tried crock pot recipes and nine times out of ten they come out "okay." Later they will be found out to have "needed more or less of x,y,z" or not having all the ingredients, being super annoyed and saying "whatever." My husband has made fun of Pinterest recipes since their very evolution. Last night was my first success.

I'm going to blame my weird control whims. I'm going to say that after being engulfed in all avenues of anxiety, that I thought...how can I harness this for good? I've been struggling with feeling negative and resentful as of late. I've been feeling as though I'm reaching out to certain people and getting little to no response which leaves me feeling impotent and unimportant. Something as simple as a Pinterest recipe did more than I thought.

My husband cooks everything. He is a very wonderful chef and I abuse that often. In that way I am beyond spoiled. I also, however, appreciate ANY meal made for me, even if it's not my favorite, because I am well aware that cooking is a time consuming craft.

When I found this recipe, the "hardest" task on it was, "brown the meat." My husband actually taught me to do that once. I could totally pull it off. Now for time frame and ingredients. Shout out to Wal-Mart pick up order. I got all the ingredients we didn't have, perfectly matched to what we needed, and picked them up after I got the kiddo, with no argument.

With even further recipe review, I realized that all I needed to do what cook the meat and open the cans. My daughter could do everything else without me. What would we be making? Taco soup. Why? Earlier this week I had asked my husband to make tacos and he defrosted some ground beef. Life happened and he had a particularly bad day and it didn't happen. To alleviate "extra" requests and expectations, I said just don't worry about it, we have plenty of other meal options. 

My husband's late night go to is either soup, or some form of nacho. I figured this could be the best of both worlds. This was a way I came up with that was intended to say "I appreciate you, I know you're having an off week, so here is something nice for you." I just really hoped I couldn't somehow mess it up.

I multi-tasked like a bad ass. While browning said meat my daughter did her evening reading for me. Instead of some huge homework fight, even when we were at odds, with me concentrating on not burning and fucking up the food, and her spelling out words she was stuck on, we did good. And when she finished reading, I was ready for her to do the ingredient dump. 

We both rocked it, but she did so incredibly well just listening and stirring and understanding what we were doing for her dad. Too bad she'd never eat it, but she sure was excited to make it. It felt so good to "meal plan." It felt good to put something together thinking it would probably come out good. I set my alarm for 1AM to go turn it off in case the hubby would be later than that. No sooner did I snap that crock pot to "off" and crawl back into bed did I hear him come home, ready to enjoy his super late dinner.

He actually said it was good and he added some cheese and dipped his chips in it. My daughter said she'd remembered the secret ingredient, "Love," when she was making it.

It's weird how something so simple as a Pinterest recipe gone right, and a really easy thing to put together, somehow has given me a spring in my step for Friday like what else can I accomplish!?

When you feel ignored by people you're vying for attention from, you can wilt like a flower honestly. Sure, they are busy and working hard, but sometimes you just want some validation or acknowledgement. We're all human after all. Somehow this recipe for success actually gave me the water I needed to bloom and not wilt. This recipe's success gave me the confidence that with a little attention to detail, planning and confidence, I'm more capable than I think. Perhaps it also left me with feeling like I don't necessarily need to seek out that approval but just keep putting out good vibes, good intentions and good words and things will be returned as they need to be.

I don't think one successful crock pot experience makes me a cook. I don't feel like now I can make anything but rather I have the confidence to try other simple things. I won't pretend those anxious feelings are remotely gone but maybe I'm finding amended coping mechanisms for better handling of them. 

I've had to breathe deeply a lot this week. I've had to be patient in ways that take me out of my comfort zone and have been messing with my emotions and mentality. This concentrated effort to make some taco soup was quite the random accomplishment but I intend to keep it close as a reminder for my capabilities, creativity and an affirmation to self care and some self love. What a way to kick off the weekend!

Wear And Tear

I tend to write my best stuff when I'm going through some of my most volatile emotions and life questions. Today I'm feeling the wear and tear of things. For any Sex and the City fans, if you recall Charlotte getting all worked up in the shower about things in her marriage and sex life and having to bow to the whims of others, I'm feeling that sentiment hardcore today.

This won't be a complaining diatribe about how everyone sucks. Every relationship has the give and the take. Everything is accommodation, expectation adjustment and compromise. Every so often though, I just get worked up Charlotte style and feel as though I want to quit on life and hide.

Today's frustration is born of mostly work-related things, but considering this is still the best job I've ever had, I tread lightly. See the thing is, I have the trait of being hyper-organized, if I'm being totally transparent. It's something I come into naturally, and it is often used at the advantage of everyone, and at my wits end. 

I arrange the play dates, I plan the birthday parties, I invite the people, I gather friends for dinner. I set the times for moms night out, I book the flights, I restock the house of necessities, I wash and fold the laundry. I organize the school papers, I figure out carpool issues, I book the hotels, VRBOs, arrange the sitters and schedule family photos. It's exhausting actually. But whatever, I'm a planner.

Because of this attribute, it is impressioned upon me that I adopt the plans of others and effectively become a physical google-reminder notification in some cases. I'm the one that checks in, harasses kindly but just to the point of obnxiousness, and puts together every damned life event, or so it feels today.

If we are invited to a wedding, I do all the research on where and book the place to stay and how to get there, and I make sure everyone has proper fitting attire, I get the shower gift, the wedding gift and ensure that we arrive on time. If we host a dinner, I will do the bulk of the shopping, arrange the timing, kid food, activities and make sure the house is spotless.

This isn't to say I'm a one woman show. The husband cooks and helps often, but as far as taking the forefront on arranging? That will always be my "thing." I don't know if he even has the sitter's phone number and he's never asked her to babysit. That is always me. I am commissioned to solve the lack of planning ability of others and work around it, and it tests me to no end.

This morning was a reiteration of yesterday of the reach out, no response, the follow up because I needed a timely response, yet was still left with no response. Finally I had to call and the first question I got was, "Why did you wait so long to call?" Can you feel my eyes roll through the blog? Two texts and an email, and the call was the last ditch effort and then I'm asked why the call wasn't first? My question is...why must I chase what I need to facilitate my day?

Have you ever felt like your world is just pure chaos of the whims of others? I feel the wear and tear of this often. Some days I wear it like a cape and it makes me super-mom or epic wife and best friend to all. Other days I have my selfish narcissistic moment of ,"Well what about me?"

My time with my husband is always on his days off. My mom helping me with anything is almost always by her schedule and not mine. And like a fantastic doormat, or a typical Rachel move, I just work around it. There's a weird line between being flexible and being a pushover.

I don't feel "preyed upon" for my pushover status but I truly feel as though, after going through such long periods of time feeling unheard or having what I was saying misunderstood or downplayed, I just became so quiet that I started saying "yes" to avoid the conflict or explanation of why I said "no."

Just a year ago I was in this weird place where I was volunteering a lot. There were a handful of times where I could say with confidence I actually got something out of it, but mostly I noticed how much disarray there was with logistics and the events were rarely kid friendly. It became this huge stress and burden for me. There were times when I was expected to participate and I'd drive to the next county over and then find out I wasn't needed or there wasn't a place for me. It was doing a number on me mentally. That's when I had to learn the art of boundaries.

It has taken me years in therapy to get this whole boundaries thing. Sometimes I am clear as day with the boundaries stuff and I still am pushed over. It's takes it's mental toll and there you have that wear and tear factor again.

Sometimes it wears on me that I have to be so proactive or overactive in relationships and social things just to maintain them. Sometimes it tears me apart how hard I work with little feedback. On the other hand, boy does it completely alter my perspective in a positive direction for recognizing the people in my life that repair rather than wear and tear.

I have friends that are just healing forces. They completely share the give and take and make our friendship work well. But I can't lie, they aren't all that way, and that's actually okay. Not only do these exchanges give me lessons in boundaries, but I have gone through life phases were I couldn't muster the give and take, and I wasn't the best reciprocate-er either. 

The wear and tear of feeling so responsible for arranging the "stuff" of others can vary. I've had my low down, hateful days filled with swear words and anger about why is it MY problem and why is it MY fault and why is it MY responsibility? Sometimes it can feel dark and hopeless holding onto that internal ultimatum of if I don't do it, who will? Such as, if I don't text that person, they probably won't text me and if they won't text me are we still even friends? Or if I don't set up play dates then the kid won't have play dates and if the kid doesn't have play dates, she'll be grouchy and take it out on me. It can turn into a weird and vicious mental cycle, fast.

Wear and tear is normal. We all have good and bad days. I've definitely been more aware of what it all culminates to, however. Yesterday my anxieties around communication left me hangry and irritable. This morning's exchange had a similar flare up. My antidote is blogging, getting lost in work, and many many reminders that low expectations and taking everything as it comes is all I can do.

Sometimes you have to be the alarm for your husband. Sometimes you have to shop with your mom for things for the granddaughter when it is insanely inconvenient for you. Sometimes you have to do extra for a friend, even if they might not return the favor, but because that's just who you are as a friend. It's all within the wear and tear of this thing called LIFE. A dresser might have some chips on it but it still holds the clothes, so it's still functional and essentially fulfilling it's purpose. Perhaps this can be my alliteration for today to push me though. Heck it might even work for you too!