The Budget Bawl

I just had an overwhelming, overtaking, quick-to-dry, full on cry. It's not a bad day, it's not that I'm in a funk, it's because I had to meticulously go over the budget. Math makes me cry sometimes, I swear. This is probably some weird disorder with a creepy name about math giving you meltdowns, or maybe subconsciously I just felt the weight of everything whilst doing said math, and the frustration popped right on outta my tear ducts.

I've recently had to make amends with the fact that my trauma is starting to play peek-a-boo. It has made some unscheduled cameo appearances, and some of it is weird stuff. When you've lived fight or flight for half a decade just trying not to freak out on a co-worker or cry in public to get through the day, and then you start to heal, shit gets real and really weird.

My budget battles began within my first year of marriage. I thought we'd figured it out and had a good system but we had credit card debt. By the time I was pregnant, I was working 2 jobs to wipe clean the remainder of said debt so we could put down the payment for the midwife program at Tampa General and work slowly to pay that off. We still didn't quite have the hang of it. In fact we were rookies and had really only basic credit card knowledge so, ending up where we are now doesn't surprise me, although we are far, far better off and aware now than 5 years ago.

Realizing you have bad credit and can't have basic things without "paying" for that bad credit in the form of some humiliating punishment is pretty shitty. When I realized how far gone we were while home with my infant and trying not to eat everything and/or cry from watching Glee or a car commercial, it seemed pretty bleak.

"Everything will work out," "It'll all be okay," and "We'll make it work," are my self-soothing mantras to get me through my initial silent screaming freak out that happens with every budget review, time and time again.

Today was something simple and seemingly stupid but it became overwhelming quickly. I'm a very visual person so I've become very obsessive about checking accounts and statements and making sure things are accounted for, balance and well understood. I think this is a product of having your "life savings" stolen from you when you're 13 so all of your babysitting, yard sale and birthday money is just gone one day, and then you truly appreciate having money and knowing where it is.

I idle between being so proud of how far we have come, and struggling with getting back into the red again. I'm not a shopper anymore. Between growing up, budgeting, and parenthood you really learn what you need and what you don't, and you give up many luxuries and niceties to have a lot more security. Now my definition of niceties and luxuries may differ from others, but I hold them close and try to live frugally. 

I wrote earlier about my bad experience with a budget analyst- type guy who made me feel smaller than anyone in "Honey I Shrunk The Kids," and I will say this very anti-feminist thing that may just have some truth to it. It was my personal experience that the male persuasion were not only the "breadwinners," "top money-makers" and household head honchos, but they were actually more intelligent about money matters. It is my personal and recent experience that I may have been slightly misled.

Many men actually know financial stuff well enough to do well enough and then some, but I think the assumption that men "know better," when it comes to money and finances is a whole lotta crap, especially now. If you think about it, it's predominantly men who do stock market type things and women are the ones who are proficient with couponing and being thrifty. Interesting, isn't it? Perhaps that's because we are rarely afforded the kind of money men have to work with - okay that's all for that sentiment. 

Back to the real part of this post, it was this morning that I realized that if any budgeting or mathematical stuff actually makes me feel stupid and unintelligent, I break down. On top of that, in all of my post nanny-ing jobs, my biggest struggle has been my male bosses making me feel intellectually inferior and that is when I do the girly thing and angry cry.

 The first instance happened when I got fired after audibly being frustrated with myself, and my boss' wife and assistant manager decided that I was speaking to her meanly and undermining her every move as if to dethrone her. Also, I picked the wrong day to bring in my nail polish and test colors with my coworker when it was slow and they yelled at us for stinking up the store and doing our nails on the job -- I'll give them THAT one, but the me being some shady underminer and calling the boss' wife stupid? Um, no. 

The second instance was my boss calling me a "bitch" for not coddling the younger employees when they needed to actually do their jobs and because I referred to my close friend, who was hiking the Appalachian at the time, as looking "haggard." I know and fully knew then what haggard means: 

1. looking exhausted and unwell, especially from fatigue, worry, or suffering.,"I trailed on behind, haggard and disheveled",synonyms:careworn, tired, drained, drawn, raddled.

He said that calling my friend that confirmed that I was indeed a bitch with no regard for others. Firstly, if you don't look haggard when you're hiking and living off the land, you're doing it wrong. Secondly, I told her to her face she looked haggard on her trip and she wasn't in the least bit defensive. Yet the man basically calls me an unintelligent bitch for using a word he doesn't seem to fully understand? 

After that, I picked better bosses for 2 jobs then reverted back to placing myself under those that see women as mostly inferior. It was when I got in trouble for a choice my husband made in our personal lives, but at my job left me effectively attempted to be demoted that I left one position abruptly, so as not to let them punish me for "not getting it." Although, being made to feel stupid for trusting in my husband to take care of something struck a pretty deep chord in me, I shall say.

My last disaster job that was a necessary gateway to my current job, where I am devoutly respected by my male bosses and never treated as though I am stupid or inferior, left me feeling so low, that I've decided of course I could only move upwards. I blame most of my previous job ills on cultural gaps and the fact that I took on too much during a rough personal period. Although any job where I am made to feel dumb, hasn't exactly worked out after this short review, it seems.

We all have our moments where we feel stupid, inferior or dumb, and depending on the circumstances they than make you break down. I get very very oversensitive to when I am made to feel stupid by the opposite sex. Some moms have made me feel kinda dumb, but in general I feel like as women we really champion each other's intelligence and try to grow our knowledge as a whole.

My husband rarely rarely rarely makes me feel dumb. He usually makes me feel intelligent and respected but today in the budget squabble he seemed to have it down and I was left to mull it over and break it down so I just felt defeated and left behind in understanding.

I took my deep breath and stepped back and dissected the issue, which is definitely resolved today, but I don't say it wasn't a set back mentally for a bit. I will say I was going to blog about something completely different and then this happened and I'm happy it did.

Maybe you don't bawl over silly things, or maybe you do. Maybe something else is your budget bawl, but sometimes we have these things that we need extra patience with that just make us feel inferior, and that sucks! There's no way around how much that sucks. The important thing is to know we all have those moments where it just doesn't click and it gets frustrating. My daughter has them regularly and I now fully commiserate with the outbursts!  

Intimidation Station

My husband and I had a conversation about family stuff and he mentioned that with certain people I come off as intimidating. I'd never really thought about my being intimidating but more that I just don't hide being annoyed.

When I got home I said to him, "I'm not so sure about this whole me looking intimidating thing. Because at work I had someone tell me she wasn't feeling so well, so she was heading to the bathroom and I wanted to say 'Eww, don't tell me that,' and I always prefer not to be bothered and look generally annoyed and yet no one gets the hint!" My husband laughed and rolled his eyes.

He said, "Yeah that's work Alison who wants to avoid conflict and just be left alone to get through her day. They all probably think you just have resting bitch face." He then went on to say that when I'm on my home turf, and when I'm standing firmly, I can bring on the intimidation. It left me thinking a bit.

I wouldn't say I had good or bad self esteem necessarily, or maybe I wouldn't even say I had any at all, but there are certainly times when I am completely no nonsense. I'm not sure if I've hardened with age, or I just have a stronger no-bullshit-o-meter. I very much wear the "do not harm but take no shit" mantra.

It was just a funny thing for him to have brought to my attention, mostly because I've inadvertently conditioned myself to carry myself certain ways depending on the company, or the situation. My sisters can feel when I'm pre-meltdown and about to lose my cool. My dad helps even me out by responding in calm ways to keep me calm. My mom is probably what taught me to be intimidating and rely on resting bitch face, not because that's what she does, but because that's how I've had to handle myself with her.

I think we armor ourselves with certain things to get us through whatever we are in the middle of. When I'm walking downtown I usually have headphones in or I'm on the phone. This is so no homeless dudes or survey people approach me for inappropriate commentary, to ask for change or to get too close to my personal space bubble. I feel like these are polite and socially acceptable ways of saying "No thanks, just passing through."

After watching an old favorite Dane Cook skit, I remembered him talking about saying something to someone who sneezed on him and he said, "I said, 'God Bless You,' but I said it in the tone of 'Cover your f***ing mouth.'" I kind of feel like that might be the best description for my general demeanor when in a mood. I can say the nice things but in a snarky way so you know I'm not having it.

But as far as being intimidating, I feel like that's a compliment. One thing I never want to portray is any kind of weakness. I like being a veiled threat of a human, like I don't look so bad until you unleash the kracken type of thing, haha or so I would hope.

I'm very often underestimated, and I try to use that to my advantage honestly. I also just have no room to be messed with anymore. If you are going to come at me with some ridiculousness, disrespect or no consideration, I'm not going to sit idly by. It's taken me years to own my story, and I'm not going backwards, only forwards.

On the other hand, I don't live to scare people by any means. Most people don't get the intimidation vibe from me in general, until they piss me off. That's when, what my old friend used to so beautifully put, I will "set you ablaze with my eyes."

I think as women we learn that we have to bring something more to the table and be the mom/employee/friend/wife/woman that doesn't put up with nonsense and we all carry that differently. For me, apparently, I come across intimidating but I think that's okay.

I am sassy, sarcastic and cynical. These are the things I wear as my armor, now I'm adding on some intimidating stuff because I'm growing and not being afraid to be me. I wish I could be offended that my husband brought it up but I'm still keeping it as a compliment, no matter how silly that sounds. 

Maybe Michael Scott has been right all along!

Take It Down A Notch

I'm unsure as if it has to do with my being short and sassy, but I'm also naturally loud. It has gotten me in trouble on more than one occasion, especially in earlier years of cell phone usage. Sometimes I feel like my inner anxiety is even loud, like SHOUTING, and I just have to breathe and take it down a notch. At 34 I'm still "using my inside voice" in more ways than one!

Above is Ross doing his "quiet down thing," and I feel like I bring this out this reaction in most people. Learning to reign it in mentally, has been a battle all on it's own. I now understand that those moments where my anxiety spins me out of control are kind of like relapses, but as I get better with maintenance, the relapses get less bad in change.

What's weird for me is that I feel like in the midst of the chaos I can handle myself relatively well, but when things get calm and then I hit a speed bump, it's like a red alert. See Michael Scott:

I organize to the point of compulsiveness often, when it comes to budget, bills, scheduling, reservations for things, planning for life, play dates, routines, chores, and everything else in between. Sometimes when bigger things tend to surprise me, it is then I become unhinged. In another aspect, if I'm already struggling with one thing that I'm maintaining my energy with and you throw me another curve ball, you're likely to find me with a black eye. I'm anything but prepared.

In the wake of turning 34 and saying goodbye to my beloved boot camp I felt down a peg or two. I was personally taken down a notch. My birthday was fine, but I was stressed in general, I can't lie. We have tax stuff coming up, bills, car maintenance, and a lot going on for me personally so I was trying so hard to just push through. Yesterday was the beginning of some deep conversational type stuff for life plans and it all just really hit me.

I went from 0 to 60 in nothing flat and was over-dramatizing and just super upset. Goals and plans are important to me. What can I say? I'm extremely Monica:

  

I reached out to my tribe to get all the different sides of the main question I always ask, "Am I allowed to be upset about this?" After careful consideration and reflection, and important opinions, I had to really take it down a notch. My first instinct is always the worst, that's why I never send my first typed response for a heated question via text. My first answer is always, sassy, snarky, and rude. When I put the phone down and take a step back I can answer...the less Anxious Alison way, which is usually nicer.

Later I further investigated the scope of my anxieties and then asked the questions out loud that I needed answered and listened to each response. Active listening is no joke. It is hard! I didn't yell in response, I didn't "freak out," I didn't lose my temper, I just took it all in.

Can we call this all growth? Sometimes handling all of this makes me want to hide and color in my pillow fort. Sometimes I feel like a bad ass full time working mom ready to take on the world! Most of the time it just makes me tired.

Last night after all of this self-inflicted emotional turmoil, and knowing I had a really good weekend ahead of me, I just read Fancy Nancy with my daughter and hugged and kissed her a lot. I breathed a breath of grateful and went to bed. How's that for taking it down a notch?

Much like age has taught me to quiet my voice in every circumstance necessary, age has taught me to handle my anxiety appropriately. Well, age and therapy. I can organize and plan and over-plan or over-book but nothing really prepares you for life's crazy changes, especially when you're already overwhelmed. 

My best tool is taking it down a notch...all of it, all the time, in every avenue. Whether it's my anxiety, my anger, my attitude, my stress, if you can just take a step back, it makes all the difference. I'm seriously starting to relate to the Adam Sandler and Jack Nicholson classic, Anger Management now:

It's something that requires attention, mindfulness and it takes a lot of practice. Say Goosfraba if you must! But in all the mania of the past couple weeks, it hasn't hurt to take it down a notch! So down a notch, here I come to embrace the weekend! You all should too!

Last Day Of 33, Whatcha Got For Me?

On the eve of my birthday, or as I have been referring to it this year as, "Just Tuesday the 26th," while of course saying goodbye to 33 and hello to 34, I'm almost forced into some reflection so just bear with me.

I remember last year going to an amazing concert with some of my favorite people around this time of year, running the St. Patty's 5K and I think there was ice cream cake. Not to mention, my mother's annual forced upon new fashion or a shopping trip with her. This year I am opting for as much calm and quiet as possible.

My daughter has promised me a "boutique" of flowers and as much as I didn't want to correct her, I did and told her she meant "bouquet," and I hope to snag some time to myself, a novel idea in motherhood.

I will say this, 33 has been a huge year for me personally in terms of growth and strength. Last year at this time I was still settling into things after surviving one of the worst Christmases of my lifetime. I was trying to scrape things together and stay positive, but I was feeling really hopeless and utterly alone.

This was before April, and in April my life was completely turned upside down in every way and I didn't handle it well. March, and especially my birthday, was the beginning of the chaos. At that time, I was still in a place of fight or flight and I was faced with having to support choices I didn't agree with, but sucking it up "for the greater good." It wasn't my best start to 2018.

This year has a much different vibe, more positive and affirming, and I'm proud of and happy with that. After a horrible April 2018, in May I took my life back. I really stood up for myself and my daughter and redefined our family norms. It was a bit rocky through September but we are still building, and growing. So this year, I'm just ready for 34.

Birthday wishes are great, but I no longer feel they are some kind of required barometer for a friendship or an attention level anymore. I feel grateful when someone remembers to text me, let alone remembers something as trivial as a birthday. I won't feel "forgotten" because people have lives and any relationship is complicated and scattered at times. Not getting a nod on a Facebook wall or a text the day of won't break my birthday or get anyone in trouble.

There aren't many years of my 34 on earth that I can recall the kind of strength and growth that I've manifested, especially over these last 6 months, so I want to celebrate that, more than anything else within the birthday. As an only child, my mom cannot help herself when it comes to making it a "thing," no matter how much I beg to just have some ice cream cake and call it a day. My husband gets annoyed I ruin my own requests by buying myself the stuff I need instead of waiting for him to do it for me.

I've decided that Jenny Lewis' new album "On The Line" was released as a birthday gift to me, as she is my spirit animal and one of my most favorite artists. She also starts her tour tomorrow, in Indiana unfortunately, but I can rock from here, regardless. I've been replaying her album as part of my reflective time because she usually writes and records all the feels I need, and somehow exactly when I need them. So, little things like this I consider part of the celebration.

For 34 I want continued growth, strength and bravery. I want to become less and less afraid to stand up for myself in every situation. Ironically this past weekend I had a recurring nightmare about still working in a place where I was made to feel intimidated, inferior and where my needs and requests were consistently ignored only to wake up disgustingly grateful that I'm no longer there. I'll take that as a good sign that I'm in a better place.

Also this weekend my family seemed to master "the chill," of which I am completely the worst. We did some household chores and some necessary upkeep, but we were lazy and watched too much TV, ate what we wanted, had a family sleepover, slept in and just bummed around. It's not something we indulge in often, even though it is necessary. On top of that, I had good conversations with favorite people about struggles and growth and about how we just need to face certain things head on anymore. We're too young to take it for granted and too old to mess around, and I think those two are interchangeable.

So 33, what else have you got for me? I'm ready for more with 34 and yes those all kinda rhyme in weird ways. Maybe the corny, dorky stuff comes with age too. Here's to growing up!