The Couch Left Out On The Corner

You drive past it regularly. There's almost always one if not many on the way to anything. It's the couch left on the corner. 

Sometimes you glance and think "That's a nice couch," but then you realized it just rained a few days prior so it's probably trashed. Sometimes you are like "wow that is an ugly couch," or "that thing is gross!" Regardless, you drive on by.

Now that I'm not physically ill, mentally things start to move around more and yesterday on my way to work I saw the very infamous couch on the corner. On the road I take to work there is this random cul-de-sac with newer built homes and this couch was perfectly perched for disposal at the edge of this semi-circular neighborhood.

I started to think about all the couches that I have known in my just about 35 years on this earth and how many I have left on curbs. I recall about 5 left on curbs. My dad still has the loveseat couch from my childhood in his house now. It is ugly and not even comfy but if it ever comes my way it will be in my living room in a second.

My best friend has gone through a few couches and this summer it was what I noticed first in the living room when we stayed with her because at one time they had this huge sectional that curved around half the room that could fit all five of them and dogs. The new replacement was comfy though and still fit plenty.

On the one hand it's really weird that some couch on the corner drove me down memory lane of couch land. On the other, tis' the season for nostalgia. The holidays are upon us and I think I speak for everyone when I admit that the more holiday seasons we go through the more nostalgia we hold onto. 

So here I drive around, thinking of the couches. My first apartment I got a couch from a friend for free, the legs were knocked off and there were holes in the back where their ferrets would get in and climb and bite you. I bought my first couch cover and it worked. I kept that quite awhile. When I moved in with then boyfriend, now hubby, I had a loveseat from my mom's apartment she got at some thrift store with a very loud couch cover from Big Lots and half of the sectional from his place.

When me moved from Oregon to Florida, we had no couch, no loveseat, no living room furniture. I bought my new hubby his first recliner and we inherited a chair from my mom that was my grandma's. The first couch we got was...hmmm, possibly a pull out couch that my friend got at an auction which was in good condition but insanely heavy.

That one was left on the curb at our old place when we moved into our current home. It was replaced by a faux leather thing my husband insisted on from a neighbor which barely lasted and then we were graciously given the nicest couch and loveseat addition we have ever had in deep chocolate brown and I yell at my family regularly that we will never be so lucky as to get such nice stuff so, don't wreck it!

I never really thought about it until that particular commute but where do the couches go? Are there sanitation workers that take them home? Are they in a pile in a junk yard or trash heap? I could picture some award winning photo of a couch on top of a trash mountain just reminding us we are nasty slobs that sit on our waste in more ways than one. Wait, is this a perfect idea for some revealing expose on couches?

Do rained on moldy couches get broken down? Are they re-purposed? Do they end up in homeless shelters or lobbies of lesser establishments in this world? So many couch questions!

My daughter was recently given a hand me down doll house. My husband is extremely accurate in saying it is much more likely a doll mansion than doll house. Of course it came with many boxes of furniture. In some ways, you can't have a doll house without the furniture right? What's the fun in an empty house?  

The living room is the gathering place. The TV is the viewpoint from said couch, more often than not. And when those couches end up on the corner, it just made me wonder what happens in the grand scheme.

I wondered if the couch left out "to pasture" was replaced, downsized or just used to it's fullest. See, much like Phoebe on Friends, I love for all of our furniture to have stories:

I agree that otherwise everyone has the same stuff instead of things with history, so on my drive I was left to review the history of all of the couches of house Chriss. For some, this is a whole weird alliteration and wandering of my anxious mind. For me, it made sense after being taken down for a week in every way, that coming back I was thrown into a pensive place where a simple couch on a cul-de-sac could spark some nostalgic mental adventure that would warrant a blog post.

I would bet money you'll see a discarded couch on your way to or from home today. I would also bet that you've had this exact same reaction to the couch on the corner, at one time or another. Perhaps it's some greater metaphor or perhaps it's just "having a think" on a morning drive. Maybe I am onto some thing of a great couch story or maybe I'm just clearly getting back to all things Alison. Regardless, may your couch stay comfy and away from the corner, and may it be the thing that perfectly mirrors the placement of your TV, all while having history and nostalgia, all for the sake of friends. 

Wear And Tear

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Great Company For Great Strides

After my visit from Depression and Anxiety Labor Day weekend, this past weekend was about taking some time back for myself. For me, this meant socializing a bit better, so immediately I arranged breakfast brunch type things with two of my favorite women.

Breakfast is my favorite. My husband and I used to make epic breakfasts that lasted through lunch and we would be lazy in our jammies, drink too much coffee, sometimes have mimosas and loved every minute of it. This was pre-baby of course. Usually my SOLE request for Christmas morning is breakfast quiche or just plain breakfast and mimosas. 

Hubby is not a breakfast person unless breakfast happens at lunch time. He refuses to eat when he wakes up. I usually eat right after a workout but it's usually small and calorie conscious, rather than a delicious plate of pancakes and sausage. When you throw in great company and great conversations, breakfast out is healing, and this past weekend it just was.

Not only do I like trying new places but being able to be myself and talk a bit about the general goings on outside of my therapy sessions are incredibly healing. I also never get to indulge in going out to eat or not worrying about what I'm eating. I am very much a mindful eater now. 

Mostly taking some time to get me out of kid mode and have a little social time to myself was essential. I forget this often because I'm forever the mom, but I need some adult interaction from time to time. I also very much need my tribe.

Some people can be more independent of their socialization but not I. I can hermit quite well but I need to know that not only do other people exist outside the confines of my home, but I need to join them and have conversations, actively listen, laugh, get real and have some shared emotions and exchanges. When I miss these things, I start to wobble.

I find I am at my best mentally and emotionally when I cultivate the company closest to me carefully. I've had so many conversations about this lately in terms of cutting "toxic people" out of lives. For me, I've noticed that my behavior is either enhanced or depleted based on the company I keep. Let me explain a bit better.

If I'm around a friend that only whines, and is only listening to me so they can speak instead of wanting to share a conversation and maybe a meal with me, I get bratty, rude, cynical and more sarcastic than usual. If I'm around a kind-hearted sympathetic supporter of me that wants to share food and life stories, I feel calm, at peace, rejuvenated and grateful.

I leave these friend dates and take a moment to take in how fortunate I am to have beings around me that care. I especially am grateful when they give me the gift of their time and consideration. These are things I don't take lightly in this day and age.

We have those moments of out reach when we hit a wall and we try to find someone to break us out of the funk and go play. More often than not people are already scheduled, already busy, or don't have the budget and where-with-all to up and drop money on an activity. These moments suck! So when I have a friend that schedules with me and plans and we jointly commit, even an hour to each other, I just wanna pop all the champagne! It's a huge deal to me!

Call it a product of being a wife to a hospitality man but I'm always so grateful when someone thinks I'm worthy of their time. It's my Sally Field "You really love me moment."

When I get to be around my friends in great circumstances and calming conversations, it makes me feel more capable to deal with other stresses and life woes. Their great company gives me the confidence to make greater strides and I hold that dear to me. I've learned how to hold onto the ones who keep me growing and keep me going and I don't want to let go.

Friendships can come and go. They can move through seasons and life phases or they can just be a "single serving" type of situation, Fight Club style. I'm paying closer attention to where I am, where I've been and whom I've shared time and conversation with as to when I'm ready for these great strides and steps in growth. It's been an interesting part of the journey but keeps me more and more grateful.

It's hard to put yourself out there. It's hard to share. So when you find a friend that can grab a breakfast with you and talk about all things in life over coffee, keep that great company close so you can just be greater in change. For me it is one more part of my self care, but we all need some socialization from time to time anyway. Make yours count!

Case of the Mondays; Still Recovering From Three Kid Weekend Bonanza

This morning has been, "Just another Manic Monday, Ooooh oooh." Work has involved unnecessarily difficult customers with long-winded phone calls and the busy work seemed to be never ending. Here I am after my lunch run, finally getting to my blog and putting off a few things that can definitely wait.

So this past weekend I had my friend's son and daughter as house guests and I learned that I am 1000% supposed to only have one child. More importantly, I have a higher appreciation for anyone with more than one child, and the utmost respect and appreciation for the life and child I have created. I didn't realize how QUIET my house is with just her. Immediately, things that were once so easily done, required more tact or extra help and the things I had become accustomed to were on hiatus.

The perfect example would be going to the bathroom. Immediately I banned all children from my master bedroom and bathroom unless being given my permission for anything otherwise. I figured I needed some kind of "safe zone." I would close my bedroom door and my bathroom door but then they would bust in with some kind of issue. I couldn't even pee alone! My daughter is 6 now so I am much more used to being able to go to the bathroom alone. Not this weekend, though.

Peeing alone is like a mom-luxury that is always coveted. It was one of my favorite things about going back to work! There was no kid busting open a stall; no uncomfortable complaints about a smell from a nearby stall by the tiny person yelling at you to hurry it up. 

As far as the bed time stuff, my daughter goes down quietly and early. These kids cry loudly and go later. By Sunday I was a mombie and felt hungover from life. I could barely remember what or if I ate anything, all I knew was to have everything the kids could possibly need ever and keep feeding them. They ate their way through Saturday, Hungry Caterpillar style.

When my friend picked them up she joked, "Now you know what my life is like." I thought, well yes maybe but I think we all have a special place and special kind of patience for our own children that just doesn't always transition to "the other kids."

My husband hit it outta the ballpark helping as much as he could but Sunday morning I just hit this mental limit where I couldn't really deal very well. It was loud, there was no such thing as enough coffee and I couldn't think straight. I'd had not 10 minutes of peace because it was "take time for you, or get sleep so you can handle tomorrow." I always choose sleep. 

After the kiddos had left, my husband and I kicked into high gear on putting the house back in functioning order and by about 3PM all of us could barely move. My daughter was happy to not share and argue and watch hours of My Little Pony or play tablet. I was soooo happy that I could watch something without being chased after every 10 minutes. You could hear TVs but there was no other noise. 

What's in the Joni Mitchell song? "Don't it always seem to go, that you don't know what you got til it's gone?" Yeah all of that and more.

Besides the fact that we had children staying with us, I realized how much I had become accustomed to my coping mechanisms, my down time, my rebooting, and my mindful eating practices that having them disrupted, even for 48 hours just really messed me up mentally. It was like I started shutting down and not being able to formulate complete thoughts. It was super stressful.

It definitely made me ready for vacation but also made me super grateful for raising my daughter to enjoy her down time, just like her mother does. She was just as exhausted and mentally spent when they left, I could tell. I knew she liked having the company, but I also know how hard it is not to be able to just be yourself in your own place. 

This morning was a little frenzied and mentally I felt like it pushed me right back into that stressed place but I took a good run on lunch and kind of got myself out of the funk. This weekend was a lot of learning about myself but I feel good about that. I feel like the lessons were imperative to keep my forward momentum and stay the path to positive growth. I know it sounds hippie but, it feels like that is what I'm working with.

The kids had fun. There were many smiles and lots of silly memories made. There were nonsensical arguments and constant tattling. There were many funny things said and really weird things done but they had a good time.

So I'm still recovering from Three Kid Weekend Bonanza and my Friday vacation launch can't come soon enough but I'm here! I came, I blogged, I conquered! Happy Monday readers!