First of all, I just realized I am nine months into this 2019 pilgrimage and I'm feeling pretty okay about that. I've had some really great pieces flow, I've had some duds. This is writing! I've had to set my boundaries on things. I didn't want to make this a chore but rather something to facilitate growth.
My daughter just started the plague of homework and they require daily reading. No big deal, right? I just hate that it's a CHORE. Reading should be fun. I remember being her age and being annoyed that my Goosebumps and R.L. Stein books didn't count for summer stuff. Instead I had to read Fahrenheit 541 and The Giver and other books I had no interest in. She has some range of choice so there's that. She usually tries to read something she has memorized. Never a dull moment.
Currently I'm in my office waiting for the fire department to come test the fire alarm system. This is LOUD and goes on for HOURS. It is horrible. I have headphones and I'm ready but it's not exactly the best day. I will most likely leave with a migraine from the noise.
With all of this in the background and life in general I'm in a very "take it as it comes" kind of mood which isn't necessarily a bad thing. I give myself constant reminders that there is only so much I can control, only so much I can do. A great deal of life indeed is rolling with the punches.
I struggle a lot with communication. I feel as though I ask often for more communication from people. I had a friend a few years ago and we joked about the "text abyss." You could be in a conversation and then life and distraction happens and you don't pick up your phone for 6 hours or something. I always say "Just tell me that you're super busy and we'll talk later, and then I will know and leave you alone." Being left hanging feels yucky.
Now as a mother, I totally get how weird text conversations can be. And also how unattached people can be to their phones much like the good old days. I'm that person who mentally responds but never types it or forgets to hit send. I also won't answer a text after 9 because I'm usually asleep. Like fast asleep.
I just never like leaving people feeling like "Uh, where did she go? I just asked her about the movie we were trying to go see!?" Sometimes I think as an overly anxious person I over-anticipate the anxieties of others. This could be seen as being a wonderful empath. Mostly, it just means my anxieties are borrowing yours and they are running wild and freely together. It can get weird.
I kind of felt like the blogging lull has set in. I don't think I'm running out of topics, but some days I'm more amped for it than others. Some days that spark shines so bright. Other days I feel like the emptied out lighter struggling to get the incense going.
So as I'm sitting at my work desk with my yogurt, waiting for these alarms to bombard my day, I've come to the conclusion that some days will be loud and interrupted, uncomfortable even. We just had our first test blast and it happened after I took a call from a problematic, harassing customer. So I'm feeling like, today will be what it will. It could end up awesome, or maybe less so. So it goes for most days but today I will just do what I can.
Feel free to DM me any blog ideas, any subjects you want covered or questions you want answered. I'm always open to hearing from my readers! Thanks!
Showing posts with label Life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Life. Show all posts
Tuesday, September 17, 2019
Saturday, May 11, 2019
Miscommunication, Frustration, Humiliation
Last night was girls night. And I needed a good night out. But it ended messily. Without over-pouring the entire scenario, I can say this, my attempts to do something nice and something that I thought was communicated to me well, fell flat, and before I knew it, it got really awkward and uncomfortable.
I'm a person who just needs to know the rules, ramifications and outline of things clearly and then I can be insanely respectful and understanding. If you don't communicate and I fall into a weird situation, things can get bad and fast.
One of my mom friends stood up for me but I had a rough time and felt attacked because, while she made a good point, I shared mislead information and I felt so horribly humiliated it all went awry. So, I wanted to suck it up and make it up to them.
My friend sweetly said it wasn't necessary, but I was so embarrassed I just wanted to cover it up. I felt like a child who asked their parents if they could have ice cream, and the parent said, "Sure, whatever," only half paying attention. Then the parents caught me eating the ice cream and sharing it at a party and were like, uh...what are you doing? Then I spilled it, broke the bowls and had to clean it up and pay for the bowls, not letting my friends know we weren't supposed to have it in the first place.
That's the best, weird analogy I can come up with to best describe the debacle. The thing is, at the end of the day I was frenzied, broken and frustrated. Today was a new day, most definitely and I refused to obsessed. I did however, enlist hubby in the discussion.
Much to my relief he was all in and understood. I just told him that, it was really hard for me. The way the whole thing went down was so strange and I just wish that the structure was clearly laid out for me. You can give me parameters, but not vague rules. Clear. Simple. Easy.
I spent most of the morning reeling and finally kicked it once we hit the beach. My daughter and I are both exhausted but beach therapy is real. I mean the fact that we live where some people vacation is such a blessing and I told my daughter, "I know you want to see the snow, but look at that gorgeous water." We had a few meltdowns by the end of the beach trip, but we came home grateful, which is what it's all about.
I struggle so much with miscommunication. It irks me to no end. Frustration is a daily visitor I feel and navigating it is rough. Humiliation is something I don't take lightly. It makes me super angry, and over-sensitive. I'm getting better at dealing with all of this, but it's such a process and last night was such a lesson in what I want, what I can handle, and how far I've come.
Weekend posts are difficult for me, but I was really feeling all of this so I wanted to share. Tomorrow I may do something smaller as it's Mother's Day and I'd love to just relax a bit, but who knows. Happy Weekend readers and thanks for sticking with me!
I'm a person who just needs to know the rules, ramifications and outline of things clearly and then I can be insanely respectful and understanding. If you don't communicate and I fall into a weird situation, things can get bad and fast.
One of my mom friends stood up for me but I had a rough time and felt attacked because, while she made a good point, I shared mislead information and I felt so horribly humiliated it all went awry. So, I wanted to suck it up and make it up to them.
My friend sweetly said it wasn't necessary, but I was so embarrassed I just wanted to cover it up. I felt like a child who asked their parents if they could have ice cream, and the parent said, "Sure, whatever," only half paying attention. Then the parents caught me eating the ice cream and sharing it at a party and were like, uh...what are you doing? Then I spilled it, broke the bowls and had to clean it up and pay for the bowls, not letting my friends know we weren't supposed to have it in the first place.
That's the best, weird analogy I can come up with to best describe the debacle. The thing is, at the end of the day I was frenzied, broken and frustrated. Today was a new day, most definitely and I refused to obsessed. I did however, enlist hubby in the discussion.
Much to my relief he was all in and understood. I just told him that, it was really hard for me. The way the whole thing went down was so strange and I just wish that the structure was clearly laid out for me. You can give me parameters, but not vague rules. Clear. Simple. Easy.
I spent most of the morning reeling and finally kicked it once we hit the beach. My daughter and I are both exhausted but beach therapy is real. I mean the fact that we live where some people vacation is such a blessing and I told my daughter, "I know you want to see the snow, but look at that gorgeous water." We had a few meltdowns by the end of the beach trip, but we came home grateful, which is what it's all about.
I struggle so much with miscommunication. It irks me to no end. Frustration is a daily visitor I feel and navigating it is rough. Humiliation is something I don't take lightly. It makes me super angry, and over-sensitive. I'm getting better at dealing with all of this, but it's such a process and last night was such a lesson in what I want, what I can handle, and how far I've come.
Weekend posts are difficult for me, but I was really feeling all of this so I wanted to share. Tomorrow I may do something smaller as it's Mother's Day and I'd love to just relax a bit, but who knows. Happy Weekend readers and thanks for sticking with me!
Monday, April 29, 2019
You Won't Hear Me Complain About My Job...Finally
I can complain a lot. Most of us can. Back to, "It's always something," am I right? But after 10 years in the mainstream work force, and many jobs, my current job will not be something I complain about.
I've had maybe 3 legitimately bad days when it comes to specific work-related things since I've taken this job, 2 years ago this May. I can't say that for any other job outside of nannying, and probably when I worked at Massage Envy because I learned a bunch there and worked with great people.
I go through a twilight period with jobs where I'm grateful and stay positive even though transitions are super hard for me, and then when the new wears off and things get real, I kind of can get stir crazy and uncomfortable. After some truly bad and hurtful experiences with jobs, I now just carry with me the people I found through them that have added value to my life, instead of focusing on the negative and pain. I have found some amazing people throughout my employment history.
The hardest part for me is my personality. It gets me in trouble often. I'm you're best friend if you want me to be, or I can be an enemy. It's up to you. Once it becomes apparent to me that you don't like me as person, we don't need to do anything but be civil towards one another, which sometimes can border on fake, but hey, haters gonna hate. My biggest hurdle has been when people don't recognize the job I do, but rather complain about me as a person.
My being a "bitch" or, in my mind, being focused on making sure the job gets done, doesn't matter unless I'm being a bitch to a boss, or worse, a customer. I don't have to be best friends with my-coworkers but I also don't have to accept their lack of common sense with a smile. I also learned quickly never to add your bosses onto your social media. Not because I post inappropriate things, but moreso, it's another way for them to judge you.
It took me 8 years to get where I am now and I can confidently say I'm not going anywhere. I've never been so grateful and so aware of being in a place that is so wonderful, kind and accepting of even the worst parts of myself in the job position. There are deadlines and time sensitive things, but also I can go to the bathroom whenever I want, take lunch or schedule appointments and not have to choose between getting paid what I need, or needing to get a physical.
Because I'm grateful, I take care of my work place and have realistic expectations in much better ways than ever before. So when someone asks me how work is, my new auto-response is, "Work is always fine. My job is the easiest part of my life." This truth makes me happy.
Motherhood will always make me feel inferior. I worry about everything messing my kid up, especially my personality making her stress more and having less success later. With my job I can come in, do my stuff, go home, and get paid knowing I did what I needed to. I don't stress about work at home. Work is work, home is home. If anything my home life totally infiltrates my work, and I'm just thankful to have approachable bosses that I can tell when things are up. If I have a sick kid or some kind of issue I can leave with no punishment and worry. This is a luxury I've never been afforded.
My first couple jobs in Florida were pretty treacherous and bad for me mentally. Massage Envy is where I found some of my tribe and learned so much, leaving me able to grow and thrive. No boss is ideal, but I felt like I could at least talk to them if life things came up and never felt too afraid I'd just get fired.
The other places I worked just weren't as comfortable, my job right before this one, was especially uncomfortable. That was a misstep, but hey it brought me here. I jumped into something overwhelming, got myself in over my head in about 400 ways, and was very much not happy there. I know you're supposed to get out of your comfort zone to grow, but this wasn't the correct test of that, unfortunately. Also, my personality got me into trouble again because I spoke up for myself, which didn't go very well.
When the opportunity to work where I am now came up, aside from more money, the job itself was impossible to refuse because it was actually using my degree. The fact that I get to edit, and still have time to freelance write, is beyond huge for me. Everything else is just a perk.
There's so much exterior stress in my life; so many personal hurdles and things to work on and overcome. It's beyond amazing to know my work is my work and no one is breathing down my neck or micromanaging to make me mess up worse than I might already.
And I love not complaining about my job. I love feeling comfortable and capable at something. I love my daily tasks, routines and ability to rock some customer service and editing. It feels good to be in an Alison-friendly workplace so I really embrace it and I think it makes me try harder.
It makes me wish this for everyone, and I now understand all the job change and job struggle stuff for so many of my peers because it might not be about doing what you love, but rather just not hating where you work to where you dread a place you spend 40 hours a week. So I feel so grateful and I hold that close. And if you hate your job, I put out all the positive vibes that you find a place to thrive. For a mess like me, it has made all the difference in the quality of life.
Happy Monday!
I've had maybe 3 legitimately bad days when it comes to specific work-related things since I've taken this job, 2 years ago this May. I can't say that for any other job outside of nannying, and probably when I worked at Massage Envy because I learned a bunch there and worked with great people.
I go through a twilight period with jobs where I'm grateful and stay positive even though transitions are super hard for me, and then when the new wears off and things get real, I kind of can get stir crazy and uncomfortable. After some truly bad and hurtful experiences with jobs, I now just carry with me the people I found through them that have added value to my life, instead of focusing on the negative and pain. I have found some amazing people throughout my employment history.
The hardest part for me is my personality. It gets me in trouble often. I'm you're best friend if you want me to be, or I can be an enemy. It's up to you. Once it becomes apparent to me that you don't like me as person, we don't need to do anything but be civil towards one another, which sometimes can border on fake, but hey, haters gonna hate. My biggest hurdle has been when people don't recognize the job I do, but rather complain about me as a person.
My being a "bitch" or, in my mind, being focused on making sure the job gets done, doesn't matter unless I'm being a bitch to a boss, or worse, a customer. I don't have to be best friends with my-coworkers but I also don't have to accept their lack of common sense with a smile. I also learned quickly never to add your bosses onto your social media. Not because I post inappropriate things, but moreso, it's another way for them to judge you.
It took me 8 years to get where I am now and I can confidently say I'm not going anywhere. I've never been so grateful and so aware of being in a place that is so wonderful, kind and accepting of even the worst parts of myself in the job position. There are deadlines and time sensitive things, but also I can go to the bathroom whenever I want, take lunch or schedule appointments and not have to choose between getting paid what I need, or needing to get a physical.
Because I'm grateful, I take care of my work place and have realistic expectations in much better ways than ever before. So when someone asks me how work is, my new auto-response is, "Work is always fine. My job is the easiest part of my life." This truth makes me happy.
Motherhood will always make me feel inferior. I worry about everything messing my kid up, especially my personality making her stress more and having less success later. With my job I can come in, do my stuff, go home, and get paid knowing I did what I needed to. I don't stress about work at home. Work is work, home is home. If anything my home life totally infiltrates my work, and I'm just thankful to have approachable bosses that I can tell when things are up. If I have a sick kid or some kind of issue I can leave with no punishment and worry. This is a luxury I've never been afforded.
My first couple jobs in Florida were pretty treacherous and bad for me mentally. Massage Envy is where I found some of my tribe and learned so much, leaving me able to grow and thrive. No boss is ideal, but I felt like I could at least talk to them if life things came up and never felt too afraid I'd just get fired.
The other places I worked just weren't as comfortable, my job right before this one, was especially uncomfortable. That was a misstep, but hey it brought me here. I jumped into something overwhelming, got myself in over my head in about 400 ways, and was very much not happy there. I know you're supposed to get out of your comfort zone to grow, but this wasn't the correct test of that, unfortunately. Also, my personality got me into trouble again because I spoke up for myself, which didn't go very well.
When the opportunity to work where I am now came up, aside from more money, the job itself was impossible to refuse because it was actually using my degree. The fact that I get to edit, and still have time to freelance write, is beyond huge for me. Everything else is just a perk.
There's so much exterior stress in my life; so many personal hurdles and things to work on and overcome. It's beyond amazing to know my work is my work and no one is breathing down my neck or micromanaging to make me mess up worse than I might already.
And I love not complaining about my job. I love feeling comfortable and capable at something. I love my daily tasks, routines and ability to rock some customer service and editing. It feels good to be in an Alison-friendly workplace so I really embrace it and I think it makes me try harder.
It makes me wish this for everyone, and I now understand all the job change and job struggle stuff for so many of my peers because it might not be about doing what you love, but rather just not hating where you work to where you dread a place you spend 40 hours a week. So I feel so grateful and I hold that close. And if you hate your job, I put out all the positive vibes that you find a place to thrive. For a mess like me, it has made all the difference in the quality of life.
Happy Monday!
Sunday, April 28, 2019
Weekends Go Too Fast - A Haiku
Weekends go too fast
Chores are done, house is calm
Laundry folded, laundry clean
Haiku writing is so weird
I'm really exhausted, I need carbs
Walk the dog, feed the dog
I should try more another Haiku
After I am rested I can try
Rest, reboot, take care of yourself
Weekends go too fast
Saturday gone, Happy Sunday
Short post, finished post
Monday, February 18, 2019
What Is "Free Time?"
It's President's Day, a Monday, and I am sitting home alone. Okay, so the dog is here, perhaps slightly different. My daughter is in her aftercare program and my husband is at the dentist. I already had breakfast with a friend and have time before I must leave the house to achieve other things. Wait, is this that "Free time," thing I've heard about?
I never have days like this and I mean, maybe once a year at best do I have a day to myself. No child popping in and out or reading my blogging behind me, asking what games are on my computer, or can I get her a snack. No husband asking what I want to do, what should we do or what we "have" to do. Just...time. This is uncomfortable!
I always have plans. There is always something to do! But I cleaned a lot this weekend. I reorganized. I sorted cookies. My robovac is working for me right now. The dog is walked. There is always laundry, but that would only take a few minutes later.
Seriously, what should I do with myself? I could paint a shelf that my daughter has demanded, but that's not actually super essential. I could reorganize some stuff. Also not necessary. So for now I'm lounging on my couch writing this.
I've had friends brag to me about boredom and free time and to me, those luxuries are the stuff of dreams, like when I dream about naps. Oh! Maybe I can take a nap! That would be the best day ever.
Free time just isn't something that happens for me so I kind of think of it as some kind of mystical miracle like, it COULD happen but probably won't. And also, my free time often consists of doing all the other things I just never have time for otherwise. Like shopping for grout cleaner, or getting new wiper blades, or cleaning an otherwise ignored area of my house.
Tomorrow I go back to all kinds of normal routines so I'm definitely just feeling like, "Well I'm going to enjoy this. Yes I am!"
I was able to sneak a nap, although that may have backfired because I'm tired again, but mostly I was forced by other moms and people who know me best to slow down, enjoy the free time and just be for once. I think this goes along with that relaxing thing. I suck at it.
I'm truly the worst there is when it comes to doing anything for myself but considering I'm in some pain from boot camp, it's still quiet and I'm kid free for another few hours, I'm going to do my best to enjoy this whole "free time" thing and I shall even stop typing away. Back to regular stuff tomorrow!
I never have days like this and I mean, maybe once a year at best do I have a day to myself. No child popping in and out or reading my blogging behind me, asking what games are on my computer, or can I get her a snack. No husband asking what I want to do, what should we do or what we "have" to do. Just...time. This is uncomfortable!
I always have plans. There is always something to do! But I cleaned a lot this weekend. I reorganized. I sorted cookies. My robovac is working for me right now. The dog is walked. There is always laundry, but that would only take a few minutes later.
Seriously, what should I do with myself? I could paint a shelf that my daughter has demanded, but that's not actually super essential. I could reorganize some stuff. Also not necessary. So for now I'm lounging on my couch writing this.
I've had friends brag to me about boredom and free time and to me, those luxuries are the stuff of dreams, like when I dream about naps. Oh! Maybe I can take a nap! That would be the best day ever.
Free time just isn't something that happens for me so I kind of think of it as some kind of mystical miracle like, it COULD happen but probably won't. And also, my free time often consists of doing all the other things I just never have time for otherwise. Like shopping for grout cleaner, or getting new wiper blades, or cleaning an otherwise ignored area of my house.
Tomorrow I go back to all kinds of normal routines so I'm definitely just feeling like, "Well I'm going to enjoy this. Yes I am!"
I was able to sneak a nap, although that may have backfired because I'm tired again, but mostly I was forced by other moms and people who know me best to slow down, enjoy the free time and just be for once. I think this goes along with that relaxing thing. I suck at it.
I'm truly the worst there is when it comes to doing anything for myself but considering I'm in some pain from boot camp, it's still quiet and I'm kid free for another few hours, I'm going to do my best to enjoy this whole "free time" thing and I shall even stop typing away. Back to regular stuff tomorrow!
Thursday, February 7, 2019
When Asked About Writing...
I'm often purposefully vague about my job because it's the only writing-related job I've ever had, and after years of burning out and burning bridges at other places I finally feel comfortable, valuable and as though I do my job pretty well, while using all of my talents.
I had someone ask me about my job, "Well don't you write?" For my job I don't actually write the newsletters, I just edit. So after that explanation I said, "But I write my blog." And then the question was asked, "But you like to write, you enjoy it?" I don't think I caught a breath before my retort of "Writing is the only thing I've ever liked to do." And it gave me a little kick in my heart when I effortlessly said that.
I come from a long line of highly creative under-achievers. We have amazing ideas and vision and seldom can we fully formulate results. For me? I'm realizing that the support that I would need to become what I would love, isn't quite there.
I don't need to be left alone in a cabin to formulate my thoughts or inspired by travel with thousands of dollars in inspirational materials and income. But I see these classes and workshops and contests and I just have no confidence or positive push to do them. If I won a weekend workshop in Maine to learn from a great writer of America, there's the ticket we can't afford, the child care we can't afford and then when I return inspired, what would come of it? Would I magically write an Oprah, Ellen and Reese Witherspoon recommended title?
I used to dream of interning and writing for Paste Magazine, but life happens and I was too afraid to be rejected with an application. Also when I mentioned living in Atlanta for any period of time the "No" blinker-board started flashing in red. Then I wanted to contribute for HelloGiggles. I often saw many little errors in their articles but they were fun, topical, trendy and conversational, so an easy read.
I'd love nothing more than to write some kind of book, possibly a memoir or autobiographical in nature, but I've always loved poetry and short stories as well. I used to live to attend poetry slams and be around creativity to thrive. Now I kind of do what I can and just try and make it through each day, with this blog as my 2019 challenge for myself.
There's a lot of uncomfortable, dark and rough things I'd love to put on paper but definitely feel like I don't have a safe, creative outlet to share it or to unload it all within. That makes me feel sad sometimes but, we continue.
I'm not sure when it all began, but for me, writing has just always been the place where I can put it all down without judgement or discussion. It was a safety. I always got A's in any writing or literature class and it was all I was ever good at, which I maintain today.
Lately I've begun to wonder what would happen if I just started taking the risk, entering contests, applying for weekend workshops, even taking local classes. I wonder what potential is stifled within my circumstance. But then I bring myself back down to earth and remember I'm just that working mom with a blog. I could be some kind of internet presence some day. I could be some Instagram personality I guess, but I'm not sure how that would all look.
I also don't want anything I write to negatively affect a reader. I did that once, I wrote, what was meant to be this funny, quippy blog, about leaving a truly horrible job and a boss that was just...we couldn't coexist, and my ex-employer came upon my blog recounting it, even though I had already left the position and they lost their minds and basically called me back in to go off on me.
I remember talking to them about so much of my writing and storytelling stemming from dark, cynical and sarcastic places but they were just offended. It took me years to realize that they weren't mad at the full situation or that they hurt me or mistreated me as a good and capable employee, they were mad I called them out on it.
For anyone who knew me well at the time, what I wrote was a hilarious diatribe and coming of age job story that was "Oh, so Alison." But for the people who read it, who I assumed would never know about it, never waste time reading it, and wouldn't even care, they seemed to instead just use it more and more in their argument of me being a despicable human and not, a girl trying to find her way after working endless shifts for them for a year and a half only to be called a "bitch" by her male boss when she did her job flawlessly, but didn't make friends with her younger co-workers whom she cleaned up after relentlessly and off the clock I might add. Run on sentence much?
Eight years later and it still gets to me sometimes. I digress. What I learned the hard way was, no matter how clever the rhetoric, it had consequences to unleash that into the universe beyond "gossip." Writing can cause collateral damage and I've yet to find a safe way to balance my true feelings and my written words. I would never intend to write in my anger and have someone read it and think I actually wish them any ill will. So where is my outlet then? What is the right way to write?
This is my struggle. Daily, I post about parenting, and silly things like Cookie Chairs and Hand Me Downs, but sometimes I want to talk about living with addiction and alcoholic family members and what that has done to me. Sometimes I want to talk about feeling lost or even feeling found. Sometimes I want to talk about the wounds of my childhood and other days I want to complain about first world problems and mom-drama.
The balance is rough for me, I won't lie, but perhaps it is for all highly-creative underachievers. For now, I keep myself within certain boundaries but hope to one day write it all and offend with the best of them. (This is an example of that cynical sarcasm that gets me in trouble).
Regardless, when asked about writing what you need to know about me is this: Writing is my coffee. It makes me feel awake, alive, capable, and able to take on more than I think I can without it. And there you have it!
I had someone ask me about my job, "Well don't you write?" For my job I don't actually write the newsletters, I just edit. So after that explanation I said, "But I write my blog." And then the question was asked, "But you like to write, you enjoy it?" I don't think I caught a breath before my retort of "Writing is the only thing I've ever liked to do." And it gave me a little kick in my heart when I effortlessly said that.
I come from a long line of highly creative under-achievers. We have amazing ideas and vision and seldom can we fully formulate results. For me? I'm realizing that the support that I would need to become what I would love, isn't quite there.
I don't need to be left alone in a cabin to formulate my thoughts or inspired by travel with thousands of dollars in inspirational materials and income. But I see these classes and workshops and contests and I just have no confidence or positive push to do them. If I won a weekend workshop in Maine to learn from a great writer of America, there's the ticket we can't afford, the child care we can't afford and then when I return inspired, what would come of it? Would I magically write an Oprah, Ellen and Reese Witherspoon recommended title?
I used to dream of interning and writing for Paste Magazine, but life happens and I was too afraid to be rejected with an application. Also when I mentioned living in Atlanta for any period of time the "No" blinker-board started flashing in red. Then I wanted to contribute for HelloGiggles. I often saw many little errors in their articles but they were fun, topical, trendy and conversational, so an easy read.
I'd love nothing more than to write some kind of book, possibly a memoir or autobiographical in nature, but I've always loved poetry and short stories as well. I used to live to attend poetry slams and be around creativity to thrive. Now I kind of do what I can and just try and make it through each day, with this blog as my 2019 challenge for myself.
There's a lot of uncomfortable, dark and rough things I'd love to put on paper but definitely feel like I don't have a safe, creative outlet to share it or to unload it all within. That makes me feel sad sometimes but, we continue.
I'm not sure when it all began, but for me, writing has just always been the place where I can put it all down without judgement or discussion. It was a safety. I always got A's in any writing or literature class and it was all I was ever good at, which I maintain today.
Lately I've begun to wonder what would happen if I just started taking the risk, entering contests, applying for weekend workshops, even taking local classes. I wonder what potential is stifled within my circumstance. But then I bring myself back down to earth and remember I'm just that working mom with a blog. I could be some kind of internet presence some day. I could be some Instagram personality I guess, but I'm not sure how that would all look.
I also don't want anything I write to negatively affect a reader. I did that once, I wrote, what was meant to be this funny, quippy blog, about leaving a truly horrible job and a boss that was just...we couldn't coexist, and my ex-employer came upon my blog recounting it, even though I had already left the position and they lost their minds and basically called me back in to go off on me.
I remember talking to them about so much of my writing and storytelling stemming from dark, cynical and sarcastic places but they were just offended. It took me years to realize that they weren't mad at the full situation or that they hurt me or mistreated me as a good and capable employee, they were mad I called them out on it.
For anyone who knew me well at the time, what I wrote was a hilarious diatribe and coming of age job story that was "Oh, so Alison." But for the people who read it, who I assumed would never know about it, never waste time reading it, and wouldn't even care, they seemed to instead just use it more and more in their argument of me being a despicable human and not, a girl trying to find her way after working endless shifts for them for a year and a half only to be called a "bitch" by her male boss when she did her job flawlessly, but didn't make friends with her younger co-workers whom she cleaned up after relentlessly and off the clock I might add. Run on sentence much?
Eight years later and it still gets to me sometimes. I digress. What I learned the hard way was, no matter how clever the rhetoric, it had consequences to unleash that into the universe beyond "gossip." Writing can cause collateral damage and I've yet to find a safe way to balance my true feelings and my written words. I would never intend to write in my anger and have someone read it and think I actually wish them any ill will. So where is my outlet then? What is the right way to write?
This is my struggle. Daily, I post about parenting, and silly things like Cookie Chairs and Hand Me Downs, but sometimes I want to talk about living with addiction and alcoholic family members and what that has done to me. Sometimes I want to talk about feeling lost or even feeling found. Sometimes I want to talk about the wounds of my childhood and other days I want to complain about first world problems and mom-drama.
The balance is rough for me, I won't lie, but perhaps it is for all highly-creative underachievers. For now, I keep myself within certain boundaries but hope to one day write it all and offend with the best of them. (This is an example of that cynical sarcasm that gets me in trouble).
Regardless, when asked about writing what you need to know about me is this: Writing is my coffee. It makes me feel awake, alive, capable, and able to take on more than I think I can without it. And there you have it!
Friday, February 1, 2019
Bills, Budget, Money, Oh My!
My mom asked if I was technically a millennial last night. I told her technically I may be an #eldermillennial. When I was young, even when things were at their worst, I never worried that we wouldn't have a roof over our heads or food on the table. I never saw my dad use credit cards, really and when divorce things happened in any part of my family I don't ever recall any complaints about money involved. Perhaps it was all on the down low.
Money stuff is hard. Let's just be real and admit that paying bills sucks as does adulting but financial stuff is hard. During one of my darkest years recently I had seen old friends doing well. They had new houses, new cars, golf carts, and great dates all posted on social media. I felt like I was always struggling and kept getting shut out of having even a chance to have those things. I was once confronted by someone as being "A hater" because I just said, "They have everything including what must be some serious credit card debt, which I could never do."
It was funny to me how that made me a "hater." I learned the hard way, really fast, and then even worse and slower like when you're afraid to remove a band-aid, just how bad all things related to credit and debt could be. And worse, I had nothing to show for it. I wasn't a shop-aholic. I had no new vehicles, we couldn't get a house loan, nothing. No memorable vacations or anything. It was all just...something for another post, or maybe my book.
Back to the point of the debt. My dad taught me how to use credit cards, and I know not everyone is so lucky. For me, real debt, more than something that can be easily caught up on in a month or two, makes me stressed, anxious and very defeated. It's often a point of contention.
I was raised not to discuss money things with other people and from that has come a lot of misunderstanding a grief. I should have asked for help in terms of advice and how to do things the most efficient ways. I've had to change my methods over and over. And this is what I know:
You'll always have "some" debt. It's inevitable. It's all about the debt to net worth ratio. My uncle once said this to me in jest, but when we were buying the house, it all became clear, if your debt outweighs what you can predictably bring in...you're doomed. I do everything in my power to "live within my means."
I'm a saver. And my husband is a spender. Sigh...imagine the controversy there. It has not been easy. I'm that person that the day the bill arrives: PAID, POOF, MONEY GONE! I want things taken care of immediately. No past due balances or skipped payments for me. I believe that after the bills are paid you can go out to play. You don't go out to eat when you have an electric bill you'll barely pay in full.
After adulting and doing all the math over and over and over. And obsessing over and over and over about everything, I'm pretty close to keeping us at break even and this is a big deal in my world. I do get upset from time to time when I have to scale back. I recently had to get rid of my gym membership which stinks, but I do enjoy having dental insurance.
Financial struggles and life struggles are hard to share and I think I still keep stuff pretty private. A lot of my association with failure is aligned with money. Like clearly you're successful if you have all the things right? Not really.
I spent the last year just so done with all these unfair ideologies I pushed on myself for so long. I started to really focus on how to handle the disappointments and hurdles and just ask myself "What can be possibly done now? What can you hope to accomplish in the future?" I've really had to retool so much of my thinking and I feel better for it honestly.
I will tell you one funny misstep though: I had reached out for a financial mentor and it was the most ridiculous thing I'd ever encountered. After we moved our money into retirement funds and savings accounts and started really breaking down what we earn and where it goes, I just thought "We have to stop living paycheck to paycheck."
When I called and started breaking things down, not only did I feel stupid because I only had ballpark numbers of certain things, but I was made to feel pretty stupid too. Little things like opening our retirement accounts and "you couldn't have put that much in because XYZ..." Well we did, however it happened with our financial investor they did it. The next advice was to close all but one credit card, and we only had two. And the 2nd one I'd had since I was 18. Same account, which means I have a great history with them and I just thought..."that seems like really bad advice!"
The last advice, which was good but too much for me was "Write down exactly what you spend on every single thing and keep every receipt." This is where I get ridiculous. I have a serious hatred for receipts. I wish EVERYTHING was an e-receipt and we stopped using that horrible paper with that ink. I can be wasteful about stupid stuff but I HATE RECEIPTS. And I never keep them unless I MIGHT need to return something. Also, every purchase? Ever heard of internet banking? Aside from what exact groceries you buy, it's all there, on a credit OR debit card.
After the conversation I just felt kind of annoyed. I had taken control in financial chaos and busted my butt to get us on track and now I was to do more? And here's the thing, the steps we took were just so huge, that I wanted to enjoy the success, not add on more work. Also? We had just enough to get by. This didn't account for, large car repairs, raises in insurance, a raise in pay or other things. There's so damned much unknown. You literally cannot plan for everything. So why make myself crazy?
And that's when I gave myself a nice pep talk: "Look, you can do what you can and remind yourself that your family will never let you go without anything necessary in life if things get really bad, and stay tenacious, and not sweat the small stuff, or you can try all these things, sacrifice some more sanity and have it probably not work for you in a functional way. What will make you happy?"
I figured out my own way. That's what made me happy. Finding my own way to integrate the advice, and everything else to keep us on the correct path. I finally saw everything from all angles and I just wanted to keep up the good fight without messing with the delicate balance of what I'd begun.
I'm more grateful now I feel. I'm more, in tune with where I want to be and where I am. I still throw a tantrum if I have to be responsible and miss a concert or can't go buy new bras just because there's a sale. But I've seen a lot of great concerts. And there's always another sale and my current bras still function. There are also so many less fortunate and I really would like to be able to give back to them in a real way. I think that's a much better goal than new furniture.
These are all growing pains and I'm always open to ideas and advice. And most people have financial issues in some way or another. The American way feels like we're spending what we haven't made but I'd like to be the cheese that stands alone on that one. Much like everything else in life it's one day at a time. And it's a constant check and balance on we can do extra and what we can't.
But the bills, budgeting and money...sigh, oh my. They will always be a part of life. Find what works for you!
Money stuff is hard. Let's just be real and admit that paying bills sucks as does adulting but financial stuff is hard. During one of my darkest years recently I had seen old friends doing well. They had new houses, new cars, golf carts, and great dates all posted on social media. I felt like I was always struggling and kept getting shut out of having even a chance to have those things. I was once confronted by someone as being "A hater" because I just said, "They have everything including what must be some serious credit card debt, which I could never do."
It was funny to me how that made me a "hater." I learned the hard way, really fast, and then even worse and slower like when you're afraid to remove a band-aid, just how bad all things related to credit and debt could be. And worse, I had nothing to show for it. I wasn't a shop-aholic. I had no new vehicles, we couldn't get a house loan, nothing. No memorable vacations or anything. It was all just...something for another post, or maybe my book.
Back to the point of the debt. My dad taught me how to use credit cards, and I know not everyone is so lucky. For me, real debt, more than something that can be easily caught up on in a month or two, makes me stressed, anxious and very defeated. It's often a point of contention.
I was raised not to discuss money things with other people and from that has come a lot of misunderstanding a grief. I should have asked for help in terms of advice and how to do things the most efficient ways. I've had to change my methods over and over. And this is what I know:
You'll always have "some" debt. It's inevitable. It's all about the debt to net worth ratio. My uncle once said this to me in jest, but when we were buying the house, it all became clear, if your debt outweighs what you can predictably bring in...you're doomed. I do everything in my power to "live within my means."
I'm a saver. And my husband is a spender. Sigh...imagine the controversy there. It has not been easy. I'm that person that the day the bill arrives: PAID, POOF, MONEY GONE! I want things taken care of immediately. No past due balances or skipped payments for me. I believe that after the bills are paid you can go out to play. You don't go out to eat when you have an electric bill you'll barely pay in full.
After adulting and doing all the math over and over and over. And obsessing over and over and over about everything, I'm pretty close to keeping us at break even and this is a big deal in my world. I do get upset from time to time when I have to scale back. I recently had to get rid of my gym membership which stinks, but I do enjoy having dental insurance.
Financial struggles and life struggles are hard to share and I think I still keep stuff pretty private. A lot of my association with failure is aligned with money. Like clearly you're successful if you have all the things right? Not really.
I spent the last year just so done with all these unfair ideologies I pushed on myself for so long. I started to really focus on how to handle the disappointments and hurdles and just ask myself "What can be possibly done now? What can you hope to accomplish in the future?" I've really had to retool so much of my thinking and I feel better for it honestly.
I will tell you one funny misstep though: I had reached out for a financial mentor and it was the most ridiculous thing I'd ever encountered. After we moved our money into retirement funds and savings accounts and started really breaking down what we earn and where it goes, I just thought "We have to stop living paycheck to paycheck."
When I called and started breaking things down, not only did I feel stupid because I only had ballpark numbers of certain things, but I was made to feel pretty stupid too. Little things like opening our retirement accounts and "you couldn't have put that much in because XYZ..." Well we did, however it happened with our financial investor they did it. The next advice was to close all but one credit card, and we only had two. And the 2nd one I'd had since I was 18. Same account, which means I have a great history with them and I just thought..."that seems like really bad advice!"
The last advice, which was good but too much for me was "Write down exactly what you spend on every single thing and keep every receipt." This is where I get ridiculous. I have a serious hatred for receipts. I wish EVERYTHING was an e-receipt and we stopped using that horrible paper with that ink. I can be wasteful about stupid stuff but I HATE RECEIPTS. And I never keep them unless I MIGHT need to return something. Also, every purchase? Ever heard of internet banking? Aside from what exact groceries you buy, it's all there, on a credit OR debit card.
After the conversation I just felt kind of annoyed. I had taken control in financial chaos and busted my butt to get us on track and now I was to do more? And here's the thing, the steps we took were just so huge, that I wanted to enjoy the success, not add on more work. Also? We had just enough to get by. This didn't account for, large car repairs, raises in insurance, a raise in pay or other things. There's so damned much unknown. You literally cannot plan for everything. So why make myself crazy?
And that's when I gave myself a nice pep talk: "Look, you can do what you can and remind yourself that your family will never let you go without anything necessary in life if things get really bad, and stay tenacious, and not sweat the small stuff, or you can try all these things, sacrifice some more sanity and have it probably not work for you in a functional way. What will make you happy?"
I figured out my own way. That's what made me happy. Finding my own way to integrate the advice, and everything else to keep us on the correct path. I finally saw everything from all angles and I just wanted to keep up the good fight without messing with the delicate balance of what I'd begun.
I'm more grateful now I feel. I'm more, in tune with where I want to be and where I am. I still throw a tantrum if I have to be responsible and miss a concert or can't go buy new bras just because there's a sale. But I've seen a lot of great concerts. And there's always another sale and my current bras still function. There are also so many less fortunate and I really would like to be able to give back to them in a real way. I think that's a much better goal than new furniture.
These are all growing pains and I'm always open to ideas and advice. And most people have financial issues in some way or another. The American way feels like we're spending what we haven't made but I'd like to be the cheese that stands alone on that one. Much like everything else in life it's one day at a time. And it's a constant check and balance on we can do extra and what we can't.
But the bills, budgeting and money...sigh, oh my. They will always be a part of life. Find what works for you!
Wednesday, January 30, 2019
Last Day Of Five - All The Feels
Tomorrow is my daughter's 6th Birthday, thus making today the last day of her being 5. This whole age five thing has been an interesting ride, I will say.
She is fierce and strong-willed, which is a love-hate thing. Some days I am just in awe of her. Others, I get so mad that she's exactly like me.
The other day we had a face-off that was one for the books. I said, "Now go brush your teeth and go pee before we leave please." Her response, "Um, yeah I'm not going to do that unless I can watch Doc McStuffins on your phone in the car for the drive." I saw red. WHAT!?
This kid could be a negotiator one day. She seems to have a plan of attack and well thought out reasoning for everything. I think my favorite part of 5 was watching her become such a little person though. During some very dark and trying times she would actually reach out to comfort me and when she got frustrated with me, she'd call me out, which was both amazing and infuriating all at once.
She grew into her own and has more independence. It's amazing. Dressing herself (it never matches but I could care less, it's just adorable), bathing herself, feeding the dog, walking him a bit more, putting things away on her own. She thrives.
She's learned to read and compare words and have real discussions with me, more than "She was mean to me today and I'm never talking to her again," or "He called me this or that name!"
She was the most fun for Christmas ever. Totally into it and so engaged for the entire thing. It made the holiday so exciting and fun.
She has manners and knows how to hold her own in social situations. I've loved seeing her independence evolve. I still have those moments where the memories of her as a baby come up on Facebook and my heart hurts but I love this stage more I feel.
I wasn't the biggest fan of infancy honestly and once we got to 4 and 5 I knew how to do things with her instead of feeling like we had to be more carefully involved in certain things. We can go have adventures now!
I'm not that mom that gets teary-eyed often about her growing but I try and let her know I see and appreciate her doing new things and being more "Luna" than before. She's such a trip and of all the things I've done, she's by far my best achievement and reason for life, without a doubt.
So we're entering the next age tomorrow and I'm so ready, or as ready as I can be. I'm thinking this year we do an epic road trip and she starts being my date to some weddings. I think we'll try some better beach days, new parks, maybe some pottery painting and craft classes. We are going to enjoy all of 6.
I'm still not ready for crazy sports schedules, sleepovers and too much time away but I'm ready for this next walk of life with her holding my hand because it's not going to fit in mine the same next year. Let's do this!
She is fierce and strong-willed, which is a love-hate thing. Some days I am just in awe of her. Others, I get so mad that she's exactly like me.
The other day we had a face-off that was one for the books. I said, "Now go brush your teeth and go pee before we leave please." Her response, "Um, yeah I'm not going to do that unless I can watch Doc McStuffins on your phone in the car for the drive." I saw red. WHAT!?
This kid could be a negotiator one day. She seems to have a plan of attack and well thought out reasoning for everything. I think my favorite part of 5 was watching her become such a little person though. During some very dark and trying times she would actually reach out to comfort me and when she got frustrated with me, she'd call me out, which was both amazing and infuriating all at once.
She grew into her own and has more independence. It's amazing. Dressing herself (it never matches but I could care less, it's just adorable), bathing herself, feeding the dog, walking him a bit more, putting things away on her own. She thrives.
She's learned to read and compare words and have real discussions with me, more than "She was mean to me today and I'm never talking to her again," or "He called me this or that name!"
She was the most fun for Christmas ever. Totally into it and so engaged for the entire thing. It made the holiday so exciting and fun.
She has manners and knows how to hold her own in social situations. I've loved seeing her independence evolve. I still have those moments where the memories of her as a baby come up on Facebook and my heart hurts but I love this stage more I feel.
I wasn't the biggest fan of infancy honestly and once we got to 4 and 5 I knew how to do things with her instead of feeling like we had to be more carefully involved in certain things. We can go have adventures now!
I'm not that mom that gets teary-eyed often about her growing but I try and let her know I see and appreciate her doing new things and being more "Luna" than before. She's such a trip and of all the things I've done, she's by far my best achievement and reason for life, without a doubt.
So we're entering the next age tomorrow and I'm so ready, or as ready as I can be. I'm thinking this year we do an epic road trip and she starts being my date to some weddings. I think we'll try some better beach days, new parks, maybe some pottery painting and craft classes. We are going to enjoy all of 6.
I'm still not ready for crazy sports schedules, sleepovers and too much time away but I'm ready for this next walk of life with her holding my hand because it's not going to fit in mine the same next year. Let's do this!
Sunday, January 27, 2019
I Live For Lazy Sundays
I think most moms would agree with me that life is just way too busy. Any single chance that I have to curl up in bed, watch too much TV and decompress, I'm there.
Sundays are often filled with church, which I do enjoy, but it's a total of 45 minutes to an hour drive and means rushing in the morning to rally the troops. I rush Monday through Saturday, because Saturday we have horseback riding lessons, and I'm the one who gets up first, gets everyone up and going and make everyone stay timely.
So if we can stay home on a Sunday, I want it filled with "sleeping in," unlimited cups of coffee in bed, Netflix, and a big old breakfast. This just doesn't happen enough. I will admit that if I could force every Sunday to be this way, I would but life happens before my big breakfast needs.
I grew up in the church. My dad was a Presbyterian minister. Most people end up surprised when I tell them that because once I moved in with my mom when I was 16, we never went to church. The only gathering place we hit up with any kind of routine or reverence was the mall.
And then when I moved back with my dad I was an angsty teenager with no desire to feed my soul with anything that wasn't Taco Bell, girly alcoholic beverages, and junk food. And my dad never forced me to go to church. Especially in my formative years.
To make things weirder, I spent a good 10 years in Catholic school because my mom went there and it was one of the best schools in the county so off I went. Catholicism was intense honestly and I don't think I ever really understood all of it, which got me into trouble in religion class. Even thought I got all A's, when I asked too many well-thought questions I was quickly silenced.
But, back to Sundays. My husband wasn't raised going to church at all. Our first jobs we had in Florida, the only day the place was closed was Sunday, which quickly became our only day to sleep in, do anything together and reboot before another work week.
So lazy Sundays became a natural thing to us. It is, after all, the day of rest. And now with life so busy, it's a day I very much appreciate being slowed down when the time is right. And this morning was one of those perfect opportunities.
It started pouring down rain about 6AM and my daughter crawled into bed with me with a stuffy, yucky nose and said, "Mom do we have to go to church this morning? I don't want to be coughing on the other kids." Although we don't have much of a winter in Florida, this is our one cold week and yesterday was tolerable but cold rain? No thank you. That's why I moved far away from Oregon.
She just wanted to chill and binge watch Netflix and I just wanted to not rush to be anywhere. Eventually I mustered up the energy to hit the store for big breakfast necessities but other than that I've been hiding at home all day.
My daughter made a fortress from a cardboard box. I've done 4 loads of laundry. I've reorganized the pantry, cleaned some cupboards, and I might do party favor prep for my daughter's birthday next week. And the weather is perfect for all the snuggles.
These days are so few and far between I love to bask in them when I can. Life seemingly never slows down and we're always too busy, so when days like this come around, I say no to "obligatory" things and "we should do this, that" or the next thing, and just try and enjoy each other. I'd call today a success.
Happy Sunday readers! Back to the grind tomorrow.
Tuesday, January 15, 2019
Moment to Moment Motherhood, The Good, The Bad and The Ugly
In my house, mornings are rough. Not for me personally, but it seems my dog, my daughter and especially my husband wake up in such grouchy ways more often than not. With my dog, I just feed him and he goes back to bed. Depending on when my daughter attempts to be awake for the day, I send her back to snuggle with the dog and the husband or she wakes up slowly with every light on and whines at me as I scramble for coffee.
My husband is the worst to wake up. I used to think it was a "Not a morning person," thing but now I just know it's some kind of weird dysfunction. We're working through it. I'm up at the same time every day doing some kind of work-out and then getting myself ready for work with lunch packed and attempting to look reasonably put together to leave by 7:20AM. This usually occurs before anyone else is physically out of bed. Sometimes I throw together breakfast for my daughter if she catches me on the move.
This morning we had mostly good moments. My daughter heard me in the shower and came in brightly and said, "Hi mom!" As soon as I started getting ready she wanted to get dressed with me and sat on the toilet by vanity area and mirror to catch mommy time before work. I have a strict "Don't be in the way," rule, not because I'm a strict mom but because I have serious "Mommy brain" and when I try to do everything for her in the midst of getting myself ready, I leave the house without things like mascara or worse, with it only on one eye.
She was listening well though. I was straightening my hair and she was somehow impressed. My hair isn't even curly compared to hers and I reminded her my little flat iron was an iron so it was hot. "Mom can you just do that to a small piece of my ponytail? PLEASE?" I did. "Whoa, it's so warm," she said. Then she wanted to know my step by step make up routine, even though she'd seen it a million times. "What's that? What's it for!? Why?" All of it.
I don't remember my mom wearing anything but blush ever. She wasn't a make up person, as to my knowledge, and still isn't. I missed out on make-up, hair stuff and any girl maintenance with my mother. She was never "maternal" in that way, okay she just wasn't really maternal. She dressed me in overpriced name brands to match and look cool though. Any funny shirt or things plastered with expensive brands on them were mine to keep up appearances.
Because of this, the popular girls used to love to "Make me up." It was all very "Mean Girls" Regina George-Cady Heron drama. I had one friend my junior year in high school who actually showed me how to buy and wear, and I've tweaked everything since then to try and look presentable. Every time my daughter says she wants make-up I say, "You have perfect little skin, you have a beautiful face and nothing to hide. You don't need make-up." One of her favorite parts of Halloween was I let her wear eye shadow. She did not enjoy removing the make-up later.
Back to this morning, she was very interested in it all and I humored her. A little powder here and a little powder there but she wanted the coveted eye shadow. I would never do that on a school day. Maybe a weekend. She has fancy chap stick of her own that my sister got her, but fake make-up and soapy kinds of things give her a rash with that sensitive skin so we use caution. Luckily I don't buy fancy enough make-up to worry about sharing with her so, from time to time we get girly.
The moments this morning were cute, so I slowed down and indulged. Most of my life feels like a rush of "Get here, get this done and fast." So, letting Luna hang with me this morning felt okay, until the tantrum. There is always a tantrum.
She gets easily frustrated with...everything. I totally understand this because so do I. But I have years of learning how to internalize everything under my belt. So she was getting dressed and first was the fit about the pants being so difficult to get on and she needed help. She is almost 6. She doesn't need help. She just wanted my attention. And then it was the end all be all, she could only get on one sock. The other was just impossible!
I laughed a little. Not 5 minutes before it was all cutesy Hallmark moments. It could have been something on a commercial for any bathroom product or even a PSA. And then it was world's end. It can switch so quickly. It's the good moments that keep our head above water though, and that can be easily forgotten.
Motherhood, and parenthood in general, can be ugly, and we often wish to just cover all the blemishes in different forms of make-up. Family life is messy. Okay, LIFE is messy. There's poop, boogers, hair pulling, screaming, crying and tantrums and that's just the parents! Funny right? It's all of us, but especially little kiddos, and as a mom, I'm often the one crying. Sometimes it's a happy cry but still! These are the moments, the good, the gross, the bad, the ugly.
I realize more and more how important those little cuddles are. Those little moments between the angry sock tantrums, being mad I said no, crying about a toy or telling me a story about someone being mean at school and it ruined the whole day just make parenting less heavy feeling. Think about how much we spend and stress on Christmas, but Christmas morning it all disappears when she sees the loot and is so excited that wishes came true! It's the good moments that make up for the bad and ugly ones. Keep them close, and your little ones too!
It's often best, well this is for me at least, to live moment to moment. Big scheme things and the future can get murky, but knowing that you'll carve out 20 minutes to let your daughter read to you? That can get you through all the spreadsheets, sales reports or customer service you might need to for the day. A funny thing she said can make your week. But most of all, these moments are just affirmations you're raising a great human. So keep up the good fight, even in the bad and ugly moments. And maybe keep some make up on hand in case.
My husband is the worst to wake up. I used to think it was a "Not a morning person," thing but now I just know it's some kind of weird dysfunction. We're working through it. I'm up at the same time every day doing some kind of work-out and then getting myself ready for work with lunch packed and attempting to look reasonably put together to leave by 7:20AM. This usually occurs before anyone else is physically out of bed. Sometimes I throw together breakfast for my daughter if she catches me on the move.
This morning we had mostly good moments. My daughter heard me in the shower and came in brightly and said, "Hi mom!" As soon as I started getting ready she wanted to get dressed with me and sat on the toilet by vanity area and mirror to catch mommy time before work. I have a strict "Don't be in the way," rule, not because I'm a strict mom but because I have serious "Mommy brain" and when I try to do everything for her in the midst of getting myself ready, I leave the house without things like mascara or worse, with it only on one eye.
She was listening well though. I was straightening my hair and she was somehow impressed. My hair isn't even curly compared to hers and I reminded her my little flat iron was an iron so it was hot. "Mom can you just do that to a small piece of my ponytail? PLEASE?" I did. "Whoa, it's so warm," she said. Then she wanted to know my step by step make up routine, even though she'd seen it a million times. "What's that? What's it for!? Why?" All of it.
I don't remember my mom wearing anything but blush ever. She wasn't a make up person, as to my knowledge, and still isn't. I missed out on make-up, hair stuff and any girl maintenance with my mother. She was never "maternal" in that way, okay she just wasn't really maternal. She dressed me in overpriced name brands to match and look cool though. Any funny shirt or things plastered with expensive brands on them were mine to keep up appearances.
Because of this, the popular girls used to love to "Make me up." It was all very "Mean Girls" Regina George-Cady Heron drama. I had one friend my junior year in high school who actually showed me how to buy and wear, and I've tweaked everything since then to try and look presentable. Every time my daughter says she wants make-up I say, "You have perfect little skin, you have a beautiful face and nothing to hide. You don't need make-up." One of her favorite parts of Halloween was I let her wear eye shadow. She did not enjoy removing the make-up later.
Back to this morning, she was very interested in it all and I humored her. A little powder here and a little powder there but she wanted the coveted eye shadow. I would never do that on a school day. Maybe a weekend. She has fancy chap stick of her own that my sister got her, but fake make-up and soapy kinds of things give her a rash with that sensitive skin so we use caution. Luckily I don't buy fancy enough make-up to worry about sharing with her so, from time to time we get girly.
The moments this morning were cute, so I slowed down and indulged. Most of my life feels like a rush of "Get here, get this done and fast." So, letting Luna hang with me this morning felt okay, until the tantrum. There is always a tantrum.
She gets easily frustrated with...everything. I totally understand this because so do I. But I have years of learning how to internalize everything under my belt. So she was getting dressed and first was the fit about the pants being so difficult to get on and she needed help. She is almost 6. She doesn't need help. She just wanted my attention. And then it was the end all be all, she could only get on one sock. The other was just impossible!
I laughed a little. Not 5 minutes before it was all cutesy Hallmark moments. It could have been something on a commercial for any bathroom product or even a PSA. And then it was world's end. It can switch so quickly. It's the good moments that keep our head above water though, and that can be easily forgotten.
Motherhood, and parenthood in general, can be ugly, and we often wish to just cover all the blemishes in different forms of make-up. Family life is messy. Okay, LIFE is messy. There's poop, boogers, hair pulling, screaming, crying and tantrums and that's just the parents! Funny right? It's all of us, but especially little kiddos, and as a mom, I'm often the one crying. Sometimes it's a happy cry but still! These are the moments, the good, the gross, the bad, the ugly.
I realize more and more how important those little cuddles are. Those little moments between the angry sock tantrums, being mad I said no, crying about a toy or telling me a story about someone being mean at school and it ruined the whole day just make parenting less heavy feeling. Think about how much we spend and stress on Christmas, but Christmas morning it all disappears when she sees the loot and is so excited that wishes came true! It's the good moments that make up for the bad and ugly ones. Keep them close, and your little ones too!
It's often best, well this is for me at least, to live moment to moment. Big scheme things and the future can get murky, but knowing that you'll carve out 20 minutes to let your daughter read to you? That can get you through all the spreadsheets, sales reports or customer service you might need to for the day. A funny thing she said can make your week. But most of all, these moments are just affirmations you're raising a great human. So keep up the good fight, even in the bad and ugly moments. And maybe keep some make up on hand in case.
Thursday, January 10, 2019
The Morning Rush...10 Minutes Late or Bust!
The movie Bad Moms is worth a watch at some point, if it's not already in your favorites list, for many reasons in fact, but it opens with a line that goes something like "I had kids and I've been late every day ever since." This is factual.
I used to be chronically early to everything. I was that person who, if you're not early you're not on time because just arriving on time is too close to too late! And then when you have a child, it takes longer to do anything and everything. Ever. Not to mention you're never the creator of your own schedule, that baby/toddler/kid is.
Now, I can be mostly on time for work (I'm usually in the parking garage by 8...in the office by 8:05) and if I need to be anywhere without my husband or child, I am usually about 10 minutes late unless it's an appointment, like for a doctor or dentist, you know anything PAID for. Generally, however, I am late.
It's not a laziness thing, well not always, and it's not a procrastination thing, well not always. I like to think it's just another badge on motherhood sash. If any of you moms out there are always on time, please teach me your ways!
Every morning I think I give myself the perfect amount of time to get ready and then I get distracted or forget that I already forgot something or everything and it just snowballs. When my daughter blissfully sleeps through my getting-ready-for-work time, I'm fine, but when she wants to come talk to me when I'm trying to sip my coffee or demands breakfast early or wants help picking out clothes or, "I can't reach this," or "Mom, mom, mom, mom!," that's when it all goes awry. And fast.
Things are much better now than when she was really little, but I can never seem to give us enough time for the "getting from the house into the car," routine. They can NEVER find their shoes or they need to bring a toy or they want a snack or they need 500 other things. You ask them to pee 6 times and you'll still end up stopping more often than not. Then getting into the car seat is ridiculous; it always takes much longer than it rightfully should.
My husband somehow manages to never get in the car at the same time as we do; we always get in the car and wait for him because I usually drive. Then my daughter starts whining about, "Why is daddy taking so long! He's taking forever! When are we leaving?" It's a fun game.
With no one in my way, I CAN be on time but as a mom, I'm not so sure "No one in your way" actually exists. It might be like Narnia, a place only accessible through some kind of secret and magic entrance.
I honestly barely put much effort into my appearance anymore. I once left the house with only one eye having mascara on it and with jelly on the side of my shirt from a morning hug. I ALMOST left the house, more than once, with different flip flops, and no it wasn't a trend setting type thing. I don't wear expensive make-up nor do I have some crazy routine for skin care or maintenance. My goal is to look "somewhat put together." So "getting ready," is rarely a long process, but the many interruptions elongate everything.
Children always have something they need to tell you, but it doesn't seem to be completely necessary to tell you this thing until you're already doing all the other things. Kids timing is impeccable. But I will take ownership, I'm often late because I also try to do TOO MUCH in not enough time.
For most people this results in less than awesome results, but for me, it somehow makes me work harder in some self-competition. Oh did you not realize from all aforementioned Friends references that I'm mostly Monica? Yes. And I love cleaning and arranging as a way to physically display my ability to control variables in my chaotic world.
These are all my contributing lateness factors that I suspect most of us have in common and again, anyone who is on time, please teach me how to be an adult in this capacity.
Maybe I'll be more timely one day, but much like being tired, I think being late is just who I am now. It's all intricately connected into my entire world of mothering. We all have our strengths, being timely is not mine. I can make a mean salad though, but if I invite you for dinner, it won't be ready exactly on time so maybe have a snack first...
Wednesday, January 9, 2019
4th Grade 4-Eyed Dreams Can Come True
I'm getting more and more insight into what a little girl's world really is through my daughter, but I have a few memories of my own. I don't remember being too into clothes. I was definitely an extremely late bloomer and I just loved to wear matching things. In fact, mis-match day at school was always a challenge for me.
My mom dressed me in Laura Ashley, Osh Kosh and as many brand names as possible but I don't remember much beyond fluffy dresses and Easter hats. I didn't get manicures or have lots of accessories. One thing I really wanted when I was in 4th grade though, was glasses.
Both of my parents had glasses. One of them was near-sighted, one of them was far-sighted, and I was like "Okay, so when do I get my glasses?" I'd always tested fine for vision but when I complained of frequent headaches they thought maybe it was time.
So off to the eye doctor we go and I have perfect vision. I was super bummed. I felt really ordinary with the exception of the bright red hair. There was another redhead in my class too and she had glasses. My best friend had glasses. I was so lame without them, right? Oh and the headaches were from my mom letting me drink iced tea every morning...not the best choice.
So I went on to grow for years and years with no glasses and normal vision. I've never really had any problems so I just went on to function with regular eye balls and exist in the glasses-less sector of society.
It's taken a long time for the Chriss fam to get it together, but we now have normal luxuries like insurance and dental and vision coverage. My husband has glasses and he's used all of the things around it, but I realized I had never used my benefits. Now that I have a job where I'm able to have doctor's appointments and run of the mill life happenings without losing hours or suffering in some other way, I decided to adult up and get my eye exam.
So the dilation thing is maddening. Everything was so blurry and disorienting. The eye puff thing had me exactly like Rachel on Friends, you know which one I'm talking about. And then I found out I needed a light prescription. I was ridiculously excited.
The Eye doctor said one time a girl desperately wanted glasses and she had to say no and she left in tears. She had wished someone would have told her so she could have phrased it differently for the little one, but she was happy I wasn't upset about them.
So then I went frame shopping. The next day because being all blurry I was not trying to shop for something to live on my face for the rest of my days. My budget was small because I'm "thrifty" (not cheap lol). So I found some frames I really really loved and now just had to be patient for two weeks. No problem.
When my glasses came I ran over there. Finally! I put them on. New year, new me! Yeah! I loved them but oh my did they mess with my depth perception...badly. The sidewalk looked like it was up to my stomach. It was so weird.
My husband assured me there was an adjustment period. Then the first weekend they moved around on my face a lot. I couldn't tell if I was being high maintenance or if they needed an adjustment. My husband said while glasses move, they shouldn't quite that much. I still wore them because this was my 4th grade dream, coming true and right before my 34th birthday!
So, I finally went to get the adjustment and they are worlds better. When my daughter first saw them somehow she was taken aback like, "Do you have to wear those to bed?" Even though my husband has worn glasses, oh, always. Mostly I got the response "cute," or worse...the people I wanted to notice didn't and the people I would have never expected to notice now wanted to talk about my new accessory.
I'm still getting used to them over-all. This week they are making me sleepy. But there is this huge part of me that feels kind of awesome that my 4th grade dream, no matter how ridiculous it may seem, actually has come true. I think we all have these kid moments of wanting things to make us stand out but also fit in and as we get older we care less and less, but it's kind of fun to know now, not only am I able to see better, but I kind of knocked a weird kid goal off of my list.
My daughter has cool goals like going to Paris and getting a Golden Retriever puppy, which I fully support. She loves to mis-match clothes and hates to match actually. I refer to her as a tiny tourist as you'll often see her in prints and prints or stripes and polka dots. She just found jewelry and is hesitant to fit into the lost tooth trend out of fear it will hurt. While she's fiercely independent she has conformed into the Shopkins obsession, My Little Ponies, the world of Legos and Roblox. I love watching her phases though.
When she has goals like glasses and braces though, I fully intend to let her know that she might have to wait until she's grown, but usually these things are totally achievable. I plan on explaining this while on a plane full of Golden Retrievers on our way to Paris of course.
My mom dressed me in Laura Ashley, Osh Kosh and as many brand names as possible but I don't remember much beyond fluffy dresses and Easter hats. I didn't get manicures or have lots of accessories. One thing I really wanted when I was in 4th grade though, was glasses.
Both of my parents had glasses. One of them was near-sighted, one of them was far-sighted, and I was like "Okay, so when do I get my glasses?" I'd always tested fine for vision but when I complained of frequent headaches they thought maybe it was time.
So off to the eye doctor we go and I have perfect vision. I was super bummed. I felt really ordinary with the exception of the bright red hair. There was another redhead in my class too and she had glasses. My best friend had glasses. I was so lame without them, right? Oh and the headaches were from my mom letting me drink iced tea every morning...not the best choice.
So I went on to grow for years and years with no glasses and normal vision. I've never really had any problems so I just went on to function with regular eye balls and exist in the glasses-less sector of society.
It's taken a long time for the Chriss fam to get it together, but we now have normal luxuries like insurance and dental and vision coverage. My husband has glasses and he's used all of the things around it, but I realized I had never used my benefits. Now that I have a job where I'm able to have doctor's appointments and run of the mill life happenings without losing hours or suffering in some other way, I decided to adult up and get my eye exam.
So the dilation thing is maddening. Everything was so blurry and disorienting. The eye puff thing had me exactly like Rachel on Friends, you know which one I'm talking about. And then I found out I needed a light prescription. I was ridiculously excited.
The Eye doctor said one time a girl desperately wanted glasses and she had to say no and she left in tears. She had wished someone would have told her so she could have phrased it differently for the little one, but she was happy I wasn't upset about them.
So then I went frame shopping. The next day because being all blurry I was not trying to shop for something to live on my face for the rest of my days. My budget was small because I'm "thrifty" (not cheap lol). So I found some frames I really really loved and now just had to be patient for two weeks. No problem.
When my glasses came I ran over there. Finally! I put them on. New year, new me! Yeah! I loved them but oh my did they mess with my depth perception...badly. The sidewalk looked like it was up to my stomach. It was so weird.
My husband assured me there was an adjustment period. Then the first weekend they moved around on my face a lot. I couldn't tell if I was being high maintenance or if they needed an adjustment. My husband said while glasses move, they shouldn't quite that much. I still wore them because this was my 4th grade dream, coming true and right before my 34th birthday!
So, I finally went to get the adjustment and they are worlds better. When my daughter first saw them somehow she was taken aback like, "Do you have to wear those to bed?" Even though my husband has worn glasses, oh, always. Mostly I got the response "cute," or worse...the people I wanted to notice didn't and the people I would have never expected to notice now wanted to talk about my new accessory.
I'm still getting used to them over-all. This week they are making me sleepy. But there is this huge part of me that feels kind of awesome that my 4th grade dream, no matter how ridiculous it may seem, actually has come true. I think we all have these kid moments of wanting things to make us stand out but also fit in and as we get older we care less and less, but it's kind of fun to know now, not only am I able to see better, but I kind of knocked a weird kid goal off of my list.
My daughter has cool goals like going to Paris and getting a Golden Retriever puppy, which I fully support. She loves to mis-match clothes and hates to match actually. I refer to her as a tiny tourist as you'll often see her in prints and prints or stripes and polka dots. She just found jewelry and is hesitant to fit into the lost tooth trend out of fear it will hurt. While she's fiercely independent she has conformed into the Shopkins obsession, My Little Ponies, the world of Legos and Roblox. I love watching her phases though.
When she has goals like glasses and braces though, I fully intend to let her know that she might have to wait until she's grown, but usually these things are totally achievable. I plan on explaining this while on a plane full of Golden Retrievers on our way to Paris of course.
Tuesday, January 8, 2019
Tired Is Just Part of Who I Am Now...#Mombie
Motherhood is exhausting, no way around it but there are many awesome memes about tired just being part of who we are in parenthood. There is no such thing as enough rest for a parent and we soldier on, regardless.
A couple years ago after our family's car accident I was headed to my first day back at work, bruised and battered, trying to pick up the pieces and someone said, "You look tired." I snapped back, "Yeah well being up twice a night giving my child with 2 casts on her legs her pain medicine and changing diapers again because she can't use the toilet is kind of exhausting so I'm always tired now." I believe an apology was issued for the remark but I didn't feel bad; I was tired after all.
I am always tired and I think that is just a part of my life now. Before becoming a mother, "tired" was always associated with nights out, hangovers and fun with friends or maybe a concert or double shift. Now it's because of sick kids, different sleeping patterns, snoring husbands or on the worst nights, sick pets. And mothers are always the caretakers.
I have been legitimately ill twice in the past 6 years and when Luna was about 8 months old and I got the flu, my best friend had to bring me reserves and when my husband was home, the most rest I got was in between the fact that he would physically just hand me my daughter to pop on the boob. This past year I was taken down for 3 full days and missed 2 days of work due to some kind of plague. My husband had to take my daughter to school, my mom had to pick her up and feed and bathe her. I physically put her in bed but would barely snuggle her because I felt like death and didn't want her to get whatever I had.
When I re-emerged slightly for the better 72 hours later, it looked like I lived in a frat house covered in stickers and traces of toddler. My husband's clothes were strewn on couches. There were McDonald's boxes and wrappers on my piano and tables, there were cups left out and the dishwasher and sink were full. The laundry hadn't been touched, just piled onto. "How long was I in there?," I thought.
In general, I run on coffee and work-outs. I no longer work out to look cute or fit into things. I have no one left to impress as an old mom and I never intend to "fit in." I work out for survival. It's a tool to cut down on my anxiety and depression, but mostly it keeps me sleeping well and energized for a bulk of the day. But generally speaking, I am just tired.
My dad always says, "You sound tired" or maybe "run down." I usually make fun of him by telling him he sounds "old." My energy is always expended maintaining our daily routines and while I like volunteering for church and being with friends and socially living among the general population, I also love any down time I can snag because it's so few and far between. I'm learning to say "no" from time to time.
I literally ask for a nap for Christmas, my birthday, and mother's day and book these things up to a year in advance. I say sleep is my favorite hobby and my husband always retorts, "It's not really a hobby." Well, it is for me.
I'm okay with looking and being tired because I'm lucky enough to be living life and watching my daughter grow. I was so bad at the, "You should sleep when the baby is sleeping" stuff because I just wanted to eat or pee in peace. Or clean without her attached to me. Now I am right behind her for bed time because getting up before her is oh so important for many reasons. Coffee tastes so much better...in silence.
I think in infancy we know what we are signing on for but my daughter is about to be 6 and she still visits us at least once a night. My cousin has a one year old and text me one day a few months ago asking "Luna sleeps through the night now, right?" I think I literally text back, "Hahahahahahaha." My daughter feels the need to tell me when she's up to pee, if she heard anything ever in her life at night, and if she had a bad dream, and according to her, she "always," has bad dreams.
I've never met a well rested parent. And this makes me so happy because misery and exhaustion love company! And Will Smith and DJ Jazzy Jeff were on point because "Parents just don't understand." I will never understand where or how they get their energy but they should really learn to share.
Regardless, I'm okay with being a #Mombie. I do as much as I can and am also learning when to say..."when." Sometimes I need that extra half an hour of sleep. Sometimes I need to do nothing on Sunday morning but re-watch Parks and Rec and drink endless coffee. Sometimes I need to be exhausted and power through but go to bed early. Tired is my state of being much like Mom will forever be my title. "Rest" assured that I would stay tired forever to never miss the adventure of motherhood though, I will tell you that. And for those of you greedy sleepers out there...you drink that in for me please. No, seriously, take a nap for me.
A couple years ago after our family's car accident I was headed to my first day back at work, bruised and battered, trying to pick up the pieces and someone said, "You look tired." I snapped back, "Yeah well being up twice a night giving my child with 2 casts on her legs her pain medicine and changing diapers again because she can't use the toilet is kind of exhausting so I'm always tired now." I believe an apology was issued for the remark but I didn't feel bad; I was tired after all.
I am always tired and I think that is just a part of my life now. Before becoming a mother, "tired" was always associated with nights out, hangovers and fun with friends or maybe a concert or double shift. Now it's because of sick kids, different sleeping patterns, snoring husbands or on the worst nights, sick pets. And mothers are always the caretakers.
I have been legitimately ill twice in the past 6 years and when Luna was about 8 months old and I got the flu, my best friend had to bring me reserves and when my husband was home, the most rest I got was in between the fact that he would physically just hand me my daughter to pop on the boob. This past year I was taken down for 3 full days and missed 2 days of work due to some kind of plague. My husband had to take my daughter to school, my mom had to pick her up and feed and bathe her. I physically put her in bed but would barely snuggle her because I felt like death and didn't want her to get whatever I had.
When I re-emerged slightly for the better 72 hours later, it looked like I lived in a frat house covered in stickers and traces of toddler. My husband's clothes were strewn on couches. There were McDonald's boxes and wrappers on my piano and tables, there were cups left out and the dishwasher and sink were full. The laundry hadn't been touched, just piled onto. "How long was I in there?," I thought.
In general, I run on coffee and work-outs. I no longer work out to look cute or fit into things. I have no one left to impress as an old mom and I never intend to "fit in." I work out for survival. It's a tool to cut down on my anxiety and depression, but mostly it keeps me sleeping well and energized for a bulk of the day. But generally speaking, I am just tired.
My dad always says, "You sound tired" or maybe "run down." I usually make fun of him by telling him he sounds "old." My energy is always expended maintaining our daily routines and while I like volunteering for church and being with friends and socially living among the general population, I also love any down time I can snag because it's so few and far between. I'm learning to say "no" from time to time.
I literally ask for a nap for Christmas, my birthday, and mother's day and book these things up to a year in advance. I say sleep is my favorite hobby and my husband always retorts, "It's not really a hobby." Well, it is for me.
I'm okay with looking and being tired because I'm lucky enough to be living life and watching my daughter grow. I was so bad at the, "You should sleep when the baby is sleeping" stuff because I just wanted to eat or pee in peace. Or clean without her attached to me. Now I am right behind her for bed time because getting up before her is oh so important for many reasons. Coffee tastes so much better...in silence.
I think in infancy we know what we are signing on for but my daughter is about to be 6 and she still visits us at least once a night. My cousin has a one year old and text me one day a few months ago asking "Luna sleeps through the night now, right?" I think I literally text back, "Hahahahahahaha." My daughter feels the need to tell me when she's up to pee, if she heard anything ever in her life at night, and if she had a bad dream, and according to her, she "always," has bad dreams.
I've never met a well rested parent. And this makes me so happy because misery and exhaustion love company! And Will Smith and DJ Jazzy Jeff were on point because "Parents just don't understand." I will never understand where or how they get their energy but they should really learn to share.
Regardless, I'm okay with being a #Mombie. I do as much as I can and am also learning when to say..."when." Sometimes I need that extra half an hour of sleep. Sometimes I need to do nothing on Sunday morning but re-watch Parks and Rec and drink endless coffee. Sometimes I need to be exhausted and power through but go to bed early. Tired is my state of being much like Mom will forever be my title. "Rest" assured that I would stay tired forever to never miss the adventure of motherhood though, I will tell you that. And for those of you greedy sleepers out there...you drink that in for me please. No, seriously, take a nap for me.
Saturday, January 5, 2019
Pooping Cats, Plastic Horses and Baby Alive Types of Toys
As I'm just about to start writing this my daughter asks "Whatcha doing mom?" I said, "Typing and writing." Her response? "Again? Seriously?" So yes I'm back at it. Again, thanks for sticking with me.
So yesterday a friend of mine posted this Instagram story about a toy her step-daughter got that was feeding a baby doll something and then it poops. I laughed as she seemed horrified. Why did I laugh? Last year one of my daughter's best friends had this cat toy that you walked around and it pooped out plastic cat turds and farted and meowed and these girls thought this was the best thing ever.
Of course my daughter asked for her own and aptly named it "Pooping cat." On her video of her Christmas 2017 recap one of her prized possessions was in fact, "a pooping cat." She still plays with it to this day.
I remember wanting weird toys when I was young and vying for the "must haves" every year. And now I'm living in that world and sometimes it is surreal. I still don't understand the point of a Shopkin, what they are, what they do or why they are fun but I don't judge because I came from the Polly Pocket, Little's Pet Shop and Pogs era. Yeah, POGS!
I hope I'm not the only mom who just doesn't completely understand why some toys are cool versus the lame ones, but even if I am, somethings are meant just for the fun of little imaginations and that's fine with me.
So this past year for Christmas, Christmas 2018 that is, we got a Disney Catalog in the mail. Of course throughout the pages are toys that range in price from $10 to $200. They were kind enough to provide some 20 stickers for children to mark their wants and needs for Christmas. I thought I was being so sly letting Luna only pick 4 items...and the first thing she picked was a "My size" plastic horse from Tangled with the price of $99.99.
The cheap mother inside me screamed, "Hell no you're not getting a $100 piece of plastic!" But then the nice mom who wants her child to have some of the things she wants, no matter how silly they may seem, started to consider it.
This thing became quite the discussion point for awhile and she was all about getting her Maximus horse. She told Santa about that one right out of the gate. So, since she had never asked for anything that expensive before, I thought...we can probably make this work.
They didn't have it at the store and even in November online they weren't giving a very good delivery estimate for this horse. So when my mom and I caught a pre-Thanksgiving sale at the Disney store I asked about old Maximus. A Disney associate said, "Oh yeah my daughter saw it at Target, it's cheaper there. She wants one too. We'll probably have it black Friday but you'll want to get here before 10AM to make sure you can get it."
Ugggh, black Friday. Once I tried to get a TV on Black Friday for my husband, I just ended up driving right past Best Buy like "Nope," when I saw that line. I would pay full price to not have to deal with the hysteria.
I found out that the discount would be worth it though so I started psyching myself up for what would be my first Black Friday endeavor...ever. So Black Friday morning I wake up super early, get a workout in and then head to the Mall. After hitting JCPenney first I found my way to the Disney Store and was first in line! I was going to get that horse! And for cheaper!
I get in there...nowhere. Nowhere to be found. I ask 3 employees and somehow they never had the "My Size Maximus Horse" in the store. Then I heard an employee say, "You should try Target." I almost lost it.
A friend of mine who was familiar with my quest found that a Target about 25 minutes away had it in stock for just $70 and I could order it online and pick it up, no stress. Moms to the rescue! Other moms are such wonderful friends! They make the world a better place.
So, $70 in plastic isn't as impressive but it definitely would not be easy to wrap. Amazon large Santa bag to the rescue. The things we do for love.
Some of you may read this and think "I can't believe you bought that," but she was so excited. Maximus, whom she has decided is a girl, not a boy, despite our review of the film where they call him a "him" and "boy" repeatedly, now stays right by her bed and comes out to watch TV with her often. She brushes and fixes his hair and feeds him apples and makes him neigh repeatedly.
And while Pooping cats are hilariously gross and ridiculous, while pooping baby toys are strange and seemingly unnecessary and $70 is a lot to spend on a fake toddler-sized horse, some of these things are just a part of kids being kids and I feel blessed I can give her the silly things, even just for now, because that Christmas happiness, is definitely priceless, as is their reactions to pooping cats and babies. Back to your weekends readers! Until tomorrow...
So yesterday a friend of mine posted this Instagram story about a toy her step-daughter got that was feeding a baby doll something and then it poops. I laughed as she seemed horrified. Why did I laugh? Last year one of my daughter's best friends had this cat toy that you walked around and it pooped out plastic cat turds and farted and meowed and these girls thought this was the best thing ever.
Of course my daughter asked for her own and aptly named it "Pooping cat." On her video of her Christmas 2017 recap one of her prized possessions was in fact, "a pooping cat." She still plays with it to this day.
I remember wanting weird toys when I was young and vying for the "must haves" every year. And now I'm living in that world and sometimes it is surreal. I still don't understand the point of a Shopkin, what they are, what they do or why they are fun but I don't judge because I came from the Polly Pocket, Little's Pet Shop and Pogs era. Yeah, POGS!
I hope I'm not the only mom who just doesn't completely understand why some toys are cool versus the lame ones, but even if I am, somethings are meant just for the fun of little imaginations and that's fine with me.
So this past year for Christmas, Christmas 2018 that is, we got a Disney Catalog in the mail. Of course throughout the pages are toys that range in price from $10 to $200. They were kind enough to provide some 20 stickers for children to mark their wants and needs for Christmas. I thought I was being so sly letting Luna only pick 4 items...and the first thing she picked was a "My size" plastic horse from Tangled with the price of $99.99.
The cheap mother inside me screamed, "Hell no you're not getting a $100 piece of plastic!" But then the nice mom who wants her child to have some of the things she wants, no matter how silly they may seem, started to consider it.
This thing became quite the discussion point for awhile and she was all about getting her Maximus horse. She told Santa about that one right out of the gate. So, since she had never asked for anything that expensive before, I thought...we can probably make this work.
They didn't have it at the store and even in November online they weren't giving a very good delivery estimate for this horse. So when my mom and I caught a pre-Thanksgiving sale at the Disney store I asked about old Maximus. A Disney associate said, "Oh yeah my daughter saw it at Target, it's cheaper there. She wants one too. We'll probably have it black Friday but you'll want to get here before 10AM to make sure you can get it."
Ugggh, black Friday. Once I tried to get a TV on Black Friday for my husband, I just ended up driving right past Best Buy like "Nope," when I saw that line. I would pay full price to not have to deal with the hysteria.
I found out that the discount would be worth it though so I started psyching myself up for what would be my first Black Friday endeavor...ever. So Black Friday morning I wake up super early, get a workout in and then head to the Mall. After hitting JCPenney first I found my way to the Disney Store and was first in line! I was going to get that horse! And for cheaper!
I get in there...nowhere. Nowhere to be found. I ask 3 employees and somehow they never had the "My Size Maximus Horse" in the store. Then I heard an employee say, "You should try Target." I almost lost it.
A friend of mine who was familiar with my quest found that a Target about 25 minutes away had it in stock for just $70 and I could order it online and pick it up, no stress. Moms to the rescue! Other moms are such wonderful friends! They make the world a better place.
So, $70 in plastic isn't as impressive but it definitely would not be easy to wrap. Amazon large Santa bag to the rescue. The things we do for love.
Some of you may read this and think "I can't believe you bought that," but she was so excited. Maximus, whom she has decided is a girl, not a boy, despite our review of the film where they call him a "him" and "boy" repeatedly, now stays right by her bed and comes out to watch TV with her often. She brushes and fixes his hair and feeds him apples and makes him neigh repeatedly.
And while Pooping cats are hilariously gross and ridiculous, while pooping baby toys are strange and seemingly unnecessary and $70 is a lot to spend on a fake toddler-sized horse, some of these things are just a part of kids being kids and I feel blessed I can give her the silly things, even just for now, because that Christmas happiness, is definitely priceless, as is their reactions to pooping cats and babies. Back to your weekends readers! Until tomorrow...
Thursday, September 6, 2018
Blog Challenge Wrap Up
I would call this challenge a success and I still have about six technical entries left in order to call it complete. After the response to my music post of favorite songs, and sharing something uncomfortable, I think some of the last few parts of the challenge are a little unnecessary.
One of them is about my best physical features and to quote the great Kristen Bell, whom I look up to and adore, I don't want to indulge in "a comparison hangover." I also think that physical features are subjective. I once had a crush tell me that my nose and my ass on my best friend's body would be "one banging ass chick." So my only good features are my nose and my butt? Recently I had someone else tell me it was my smile. Doesn't it depend on who you're talking to? And why indulge in more judgement when the world is already so judgmental?
Another challenge was to list favorite blogs. As a blog writer I'm quite the "faker" because I don't read many blogs. I don't have much free time and it's really hard for me to want to read on the computer when I write, edit, post and spreadsheet all day. I'll catch a book or article from time to time but I'm a super slow reader also.
The 27th challenge is what makes me feel better, always. Kid cuddles or dog cuddles are number one but also a good movie, and a good cry. In desperate times I need Ben and Jerry's or Cold Stone. When things are really bad I need junk food like Doritos and Buffalo Chicken Dip.
The 28th challenge was to write about the last time I cried. I'm a frustrated crier so I probably shed a tear or two every other day honestly. I often feel so overwhelmed by the stress, anxiety and should-do's and can't do's that I just can't contain the frustration and it comes out of my eye ducts. I take on so much mentally, much of my own overthinking and anxious fretting for sure, but it still affects me to the point of tears. These are like cry for a minute then suck it up moments though. I was trained to never let them see you down!
The 29th was the top things on my bucket list which would be visiting New Zealand and another European Trip, this one with my daughter. I studied in Europe nearly 11 years ago and I had the time of my life. I wanted to live there. I cannot wait to take my daughter when she's like 16 or something. And New Zealand? I need the Shire and hiking yesterday!
The 30th challenge was comfort foods? See what makes me feel better, always. It kind of all goes together and doesn't require much of a post.
The last challenge was to be about my weird quirks. Oh my...there's the weird way my brain works for control and routines, the ability to maintain controlled chaos and the strange ways I have to adjust social media stuff to make it less...negative for myself. I have a lot. Let's do this, why don't you come chat with me and pick out some. That's not judgey right? Ha! We all have weirdness, some of us are just better at showing it.
I plan on writing about one more revealing type of thing before I take a bit of a break because of work and life and such. This challenge did give me what I intended, which was a really good exercise in writing again and a renewed sense of why I fell in love with writing to begin with. It got me out of a funk and away from myself, which is always a fun journey and I really appreciate those who joined me on it!
I'd still love to hear from anyone and accept all feedback, even if it might not be something I want to hear. So this wraps up the challenge part but please don't think I won't keep posting and updating!
One of them is about my best physical features and to quote the great Kristen Bell, whom I look up to and adore, I don't want to indulge in "a comparison hangover." I also think that physical features are subjective. I once had a crush tell me that my nose and my ass on my best friend's body would be "one banging ass chick." So my only good features are my nose and my butt? Recently I had someone else tell me it was my smile. Doesn't it depend on who you're talking to? And why indulge in more judgement when the world is already so judgmental?
Another challenge was to list favorite blogs. As a blog writer I'm quite the "faker" because I don't read many blogs. I don't have much free time and it's really hard for me to want to read on the computer when I write, edit, post and spreadsheet all day. I'll catch a book or article from time to time but I'm a super slow reader also.
The 27th challenge is what makes me feel better, always. Kid cuddles or dog cuddles are number one but also a good movie, and a good cry. In desperate times I need Ben and Jerry's or Cold Stone. When things are really bad I need junk food like Doritos and Buffalo Chicken Dip.
The 28th challenge was to write about the last time I cried. I'm a frustrated crier so I probably shed a tear or two every other day honestly. I often feel so overwhelmed by the stress, anxiety and should-do's and can't do's that I just can't contain the frustration and it comes out of my eye ducts. I take on so much mentally, much of my own overthinking and anxious fretting for sure, but it still affects me to the point of tears. These are like cry for a minute then suck it up moments though. I was trained to never let them see you down!
The 29th was the top things on my bucket list which would be visiting New Zealand and another European Trip, this one with my daughter. I studied in Europe nearly 11 years ago and I had the time of my life. I wanted to live there. I cannot wait to take my daughter when she's like 16 or something. And New Zealand? I need the Shire and hiking yesterday!
The 30th challenge was comfort foods? See what makes me feel better, always. It kind of all goes together and doesn't require much of a post.
The last challenge was to be about my weird quirks. Oh my...there's the weird way my brain works for control and routines, the ability to maintain controlled chaos and the strange ways I have to adjust social media stuff to make it less...negative for myself. I have a lot. Let's do this, why don't you come chat with me and pick out some. That's not judgey right? Ha! We all have weirdness, some of us are just better at showing it.
I plan on writing about one more revealing type of thing before I take a bit of a break because of work and life and such. This challenge did give me what I intended, which was a really good exercise in writing again and a renewed sense of why I fell in love with writing to begin with. It got me out of a funk and away from myself, which is always a fun journey and I really appreciate those who joined me on it!
I'd still love to hear from anyone and accept all feedback, even if it might not be something I want to hear. So this wraps up the challenge part but please don't think I won't keep posting and updating!
Wednesday, September 5, 2018
Blog Post Challenge 24: A Difficult Time In My Life
Well this is kind of an intense subject. There have been a few times in my 33 years on this planet that have been difficult and most definitely parenthood in general has been rough, but I'm going to take a risk and write about something I'm super not comfortable talking about and we'll see how it is received.
Nearly a decade ago I was finishing college and I had my world rocked. My mom has struggled with addiction my entire life. She has had periods of sobriety and also horrendous relapses for about the last 20 years. When I was 17 we learned the hard way that she and I could be great at a distance but could not coexist in the same home.
She stayed in South Florida and my dad moved me to Oregon when I was 17 to finish high school and get into college. When I was finishing at University of Oregon, my mom had just lost both of her parents within and year and had a cancer scare with a huge ovarian tumor removed. I had spent 2 weeks the previous summer before classes started, taking care of her until she was well enough to function on her own just after we had buried her mother and father.
But one cold, January morning my Uncle called me really early and told me that not only was she using again but that he needed to remove himself permanently from the situation because things had gotten so bad and she had wronged him so deeply that he needed to cut off contact. Somehow he mustered the ability to apologize to me that she had become such a mess and urged me not to stay close with her, afraid of her next moves with no family support. I spent the day home from school, 3,000 miles away from her and freaking out.
My mom had just inherited a great deal of stuff from my grandma. Most of it was sentimental but still important. My grandma's house was on the market and that was just an hour north of my mom's place at this time as well. I was worried about my grandma's stuff being lost or sold. She had done countless watercolor paintings and had some great furniture as well. Also, my then-boyfriend-now-husband and I were planning on living with my mom and putting him through school. This changed everything. We couldn't risk being around her either.
One of my Florida high school friends and my dad helped me get a storage unit and in February of my last semester I flew to Florida by myself to lock up and protect my grandmother's treasures knowing that in July when we moved to Tampa, we could get them and keep them with us.
When I got to my mom's house she was in a frenzy in the process of being evicted. She had two cars, my grandmother's old Mercedes and a Ford Escape she had promised to my husband. Her other brother was coming to get the title and the Mercedes to drive north for my cousin while he stopped to check how the house was doing on the market in Port. St. Lucie.
When I first got there she gave me this look like "Uh oh, busted." I think I had my friend's truck to pack up and make runs. It was only a matter of minutes before she started yelling at me about taking her things. Then she had quick mood change. "Well, take this stuff too," she said. "Yeah, for later and then I can have the key."
This was one of those moments in life with an addict that no one could ever prepare you for. This was when my 23 year old self, struggling to adult and protect things that are important to myself and my family has to stand strong and summons the energy to say: "Mom this is not me helping you, do you understand that? I don't want you to lose Grandma's things. This is not a favor, these are now mine and we will see what happens if you get clean. And I need the title to the car."
She told me the car was hers and the title was in a safe deposit box at the bank. I knew full well her brother was in route but dare say nothing in case she bolted. She started talking to me again about keeping her things and I finally lost it. "You get no key or access. I will be coming to get these things when we move. Your ex-husband (aka my dad) helped me get down here and by the grace of my old friend and ditching a few days of school I'm taking what's important so you don't lose ANYTHING ELSE." She looked at me blankly and asked, "Can you pay my phone bill too?"
When my uncle drove up he just walked in and said, "I'm taking the car where's the title?" My mom looked at me, enraged, "You told him I was here? You little shit! He can't take my car! SHE LEFT THAT TO ME." I walked outside and let her scream it out before my uncle came back out with the keys.
When he left in the Mercedes I finished packing up and went to crash at my friends house. My friend joked with me enough that I fooled myself into being calm. I'd given him a key to the storage unit too in case someone needed to get there fast for any reason. My mom harassed him for the next 3 months until he mailed it to me in surrender.
When I left my mom she was getting ready to live in her car, until a month later they repossessed that. When I said goodbye to her she wasn't even really her if that makes sense. I cried the entire plane ride home because in that moment I didn't know if I would see her again or she would end up dead. I came home deflated and went back to finish my last semester.
I don't tell many people that story because it's dark and uncomfortable. My mom hates being judged as some "filthy addict." If you've ever met her she doesn't ever come off that way but I had to see her at her worst. For me what makes this a difficult time is knowing that I had to be the one to help my mom hit her true rock bottom. I had to give her real consequences so she could find a reason to get healthy.
She's been sober 8 years this summer. No child of any age should have to be that strong and sometimes the weight of what that does to a person is so much heavier than you can imagine. Telling your mom to deal with the ramifications seems unfair but addiction takes over and makes her turn into someone who is not even the same person you thought you knew.
I don't share this for pity or sympathy. Most of my family doesn't know the depth of this. Most of my family doesn't talk about this and still doesn't even speak to her. So yeah this was a dark, difficult time in my life and I appreciate you reading about it. If you, too, have struggled with a life around or in addiction, just know that even when we seem like we're against you, we're with you in more ways than one. And no one's experiences with addiction are better or worse than anyone else's, the just ARE and they must be difficult times for you all as well. You are not alone and you definitely can appreciate the lighter times now, or so I have experienced!
Nearly a decade ago I was finishing college and I had my world rocked. My mom has struggled with addiction my entire life. She has had periods of sobriety and also horrendous relapses for about the last 20 years. When I was 17 we learned the hard way that she and I could be great at a distance but could not coexist in the same home.
She stayed in South Florida and my dad moved me to Oregon when I was 17 to finish high school and get into college. When I was finishing at University of Oregon, my mom had just lost both of her parents within and year and had a cancer scare with a huge ovarian tumor removed. I had spent 2 weeks the previous summer before classes started, taking care of her until she was well enough to function on her own just after we had buried her mother and father.
But one cold, January morning my Uncle called me really early and told me that not only was she using again but that he needed to remove himself permanently from the situation because things had gotten so bad and she had wronged him so deeply that he needed to cut off contact. Somehow he mustered the ability to apologize to me that she had become such a mess and urged me not to stay close with her, afraid of her next moves with no family support. I spent the day home from school, 3,000 miles away from her and freaking out.
My mom had just inherited a great deal of stuff from my grandma. Most of it was sentimental but still important. My grandma's house was on the market and that was just an hour north of my mom's place at this time as well. I was worried about my grandma's stuff being lost or sold. She had done countless watercolor paintings and had some great furniture as well. Also, my then-boyfriend-now-husband and I were planning on living with my mom and putting him through school. This changed everything. We couldn't risk being around her either.
One of my Florida high school friends and my dad helped me get a storage unit and in February of my last semester I flew to Florida by myself to lock up and protect my grandmother's treasures knowing that in July when we moved to Tampa, we could get them and keep them with us.
When I got to my mom's house she was in a frenzy in the process of being evicted. She had two cars, my grandmother's old Mercedes and a Ford Escape she had promised to my husband. Her other brother was coming to get the title and the Mercedes to drive north for my cousin while he stopped to check how the house was doing on the market in Port. St. Lucie.
When I first got there she gave me this look like "Uh oh, busted." I think I had my friend's truck to pack up and make runs. It was only a matter of minutes before she started yelling at me about taking her things. Then she had quick mood change. "Well, take this stuff too," she said. "Yeah, for later and then I can have the key."
This was one of those moments in life with an addict that no one could ever prepare you for. This was when my 23 year old self, struggling to adult and protect things that are important to myself and my family has to stand strong and summons the energy to say: "Mom this is not me helping you, do you understand that? I don't want you to lose Grandma's things. This is not a favor, these are now mine and we will see what happens if you get clean. And I need the title to the car."
She told me the car was hers and the title was in a safe deposit box at the bank. I knew full well her brother was in route but dare say nothing in case she bolted. She started talking to me again about keeping her things and I finally lost it. "You get no key or access. I will be coming to get these things when we move. Your ex-husband (aka my dad) helped me get down here and by the grace of my old friend and ditching a few days of school I'm taking what's important so you don't lose ANYTHING ELSE." She looked at me blankly and asked, "Can you pay my phone bill too?"
When my uncle drove up he just walked in and said, "I'm taking the car where's the title?" My mom looked at me, enraged, "You told him I was here? You little shit! He can't take my car! SHE LEFT THAT TO ME." I walked outside and let her scream it out before my uncle came back out with the keys.
When he left in the Mercedes I finished packing up and went to crash at my friends house. My friend joked with me enough that I fooled myself into being calm. I'd given him a key to the storage unit too in case someone needed to get there fast for any reason. My mom harassed him for the next 3 months until he mailed it to me in surrender.
When I left my mom she was getting ready to live in her car, until a month later they repossessed that. When I said goodbye to her she wasn't even really her if that makes sense. I cried the entire plane ride home because in that moment I didn't know if I would see her again or she would end up dead. I came home deflated and went back to finish my last semester.
I don't tell many people that story because it's dark and uncomfortable. My mom hates being judged as some "filthy addict." If you've ever met her she doesn't ever come off that way but I had to see her at her worst. For me what makes this a difficult time is knowing that I had to be the one to help my mom hit her true rock bottom. I had to give her real consequences so she could find a reason to get healthy.
She's been sober 8 years this summer. No child of any age should have to be that strong and sometimes the weight of what that does to a person is so much heavier than you can imagine. Telling your mom to deal with the ramifications seems unfair but addiction takes over and makes her turn into someone who is not even the same person you thought you knew.
I don't share this for pity or sympathy. Most of my family doesn't know the depth of this. Most of my family doesn't talk about this and still doesn't even speak to her. So yeah this was a dark, difficult time in my life and I appreciate you reading about it. If you, too, have struggled with a life around or in addiction, just know that even when we seem like we're against you, we're with you in more ways than one. And no one's experiences with addiction are better or worse than anyone else's, the just ARE and they must be difficult times for you all as well. You are not alone and you definitely can appreciate the lighter times now, or so I have experienced!
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