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!

Closer To Fine: Five Bad Days, Worst $23 Bucks I've Ever Spent, Being Right Never Gets Old

I've been complaining about my Thyroid issues. Hopefully this is the last rant for awhile. So, when getting all this blood drawn they find out I'm more or less defective. Kidding; but my thyroid levels are off, which can lead to bigger problems down the road. My symptoms were pretty benign and manage-able in my opinion, but what do I know? I've only had this body for 34 years.

For whatever reasons I have a rough time with medicine, hospitals and healthcare. Not on a political level, just in general. Maybe it was growing up visiting retirement homes with my Pastor Father, ill patients here and there and my mother being a grief counselor with Hospice, but I just associated sickness and death with all things medical for a very long time. 

Having spent my most formative years in Oregon where natural and homeopathic options are easier to get than anything else, that was always the first option. I remember for menstrual cramps my sister had me on all these herbs and tinctures. It was a pain in the ass but they worked! For me, western medicine was always a last resort and my body always seemed to have more intense reactions to it than most.

The thyroid thing didn't seem important to me. I had a friend suffering the same thing and she had intense symptoms. Mine were pretty standard and not severe at all. They said they could get me on meds after my May blood draw came back worse. Ironically this was after I'd done the dietary suggestions, cutting out most of my go to and comfort foods (spinach, veggie pasta, brussel sprouts, pizza and kale), and it made no difference, it actually just made me more miserable. 

I noticed some slight weight gain and since I work out a minimum of 5 days a week at 30 minutes a pop, while I don't need to win a beauty pageant, I'd rather maintain than gain. So I said fine, we'll give western medicine a go. My friend said the synthetic thyroid one messed with her sleep so she changed to the natural one and has done much better.

When I called my doctor I said, "Well I want to be on the natural one." The first name they threw out wasn't the one my friend was on. I said, "No I think it's just called like, Nature Thyroid?" They diverted back to, "We'll start you on this one." The prescription sat for two days as I still had seriously mixed feelings.

I very much am coined as a drama queen about medical and prescription stuff because I've always had very rough reactions. Everyone acts like I'm just overstating because I'm not actually allergic to anything, so to speak. My husband was encouragingly saying, "They will take an adjustment but it's a good step and it will make a difference."

Let me just say, he wasn't wrong. The first day I felt so confident and was like, "Yeah this is going to make me feel less tired and be more healthy!" Day one ended with the worst migraine I have had in a decade to the point where I couldn't lift my head off the pillow and slept for 11 hours straight with the help of my old friend, "Excedrin PM." Day two I was a little nauseated and foggy. Day 3 was the first morning it was taking it's toll. I had a low grade fever, serious chills and couldn't get enough water. It was like that scene in Me, Myself and Irene where the medication gave him insane cottonmouth:

 

The nausea was rough as I'm a puker as it is meaning, at the slightest bit of anything being off in my body, I'm vomiting. My appetite was numb almost and I felt this spacey, body high but not the good kind where you're having fun. Days 4 and 5 were killer, just out of this world discomfort with low fever, aches, weird, intense joint pain and my husband said my sleep was just not well at all. I had no feeling of being asleep or awake and was relying on Excedrin PM to help the pain every night.

Yesterday I called my doctor and they have yet to return that call. I tried to talk myself around it. I tried to rationalize and tell my body to suck it up but I was like...this isn't getting better, it's actually getting worse and I just can't live like this. I had to cancel moms night out plans because I was so afraid I'd puke wine on the bar if we went out.

I made the executive decision to stop taking them. In my optimism I had gotten 90 days worth of meds and dropped $23 bucks on that stupid prescription that I'll never see again but today, without the pill, the difference is already huge. There's a disappointed sadness in me that I wasn't heard by the doctor and also, that I let everyone talk me into something I was unsure about it, but at least today I can feel that without being sick on top of it.

This morning I skipped a workout and snuggled my daughter and husband, oh and the dog too. I enjoyed a cup of coffee for the first time in a week, and I don't feel like I'm completely ill. Don't get me wrong, I have some residual but much lighter nausea, I had a brief dizzy spell this morning and I'm still quite thirsty but I can think better, I feel less foggy and my joints don't hurt. For me it's a step in the right direction.

When I was my most sick yesterday, it was after I made myself a glorious cup of green ginger tea and then immediately felt like I was going to puke repeatedly so I stuffed down some bland mac and cheese leftovers from a failed dinner out, to calm my stomach, that I realized...okay I don't care about the weight gain, nothing is worth this discomfort. Next weekend is a big weekend in my life, and we have important plans. This weekend we have important plans too and I just couldn't picture feeling this ill through it all. I decided, no more, I won't live like this.

I Googled over and over again the Levoxothyroxine or something or other side effects. I had like 6 of 9 under the "Call your doctor if" column. I kept trying to rationalize the sickness blaming allergies or anxiety or my daughter having a cough but today is my affirmation it was the pills and not me. My joints don't hurt. I'm aware and awake instead of more tired and frail. Yesterday I even stared in the mirror for a minute and just felt like I looked, pale and uncomfortable. Today I might snap a selfie!

While I'm happy I tried it, I still have this overwhelming grief of how it all went down. I have diagnosed Anxiety and Depression, which are two of the side effects of the thyroid meds. To manage those with therapy and in daily life, I have many tools but my nervousness and anxiousness just were so un-manage-able with that medicine. I wish I was taken more seriously but I also need to stand up for myself. I really do, and this was quite the rough lesson in that. 

I really wish I didn't lose out on that $23 bucks, which I know sounds dumb but come on, that's half a tank of gas or a nice lunch out! The lesson is I have to be my own advocate and stand up tall about what's right for me, no matter how short I am. The truth is, I know my body the absolute best and no one can tell me otherwise. There was a part of me that hoped I'd be wrong and I'd be fine or that it would only have positive effects but I have no control of that. Being right never does get old, does it?

Today I am closer to fine. I feel so happy I'm almost back to myself. By next weekend when I take some much needed time away, I'm sure I'll be back to manage-able me and sorry, not sorry that being out of my comfort zone this time around, was not worth hurting my body. I even feel like my posts were foggy and I was so uncomfortable I couldn't even proof-read much because I was so frenzied! I'm glad to feel almost Alison again.

Random Teachable Moments In Motherhood

I only recall one teachable moment with my dad. It was when I was 19, had my first official boyfriend, but sadly wasn't the first official asshole I'd dated, and he basically told me that even though he was a bad guy, all of them wouldn't be that way and I must not forget there are still good people out there. That one stuck, and always will.

Other than that, and especially in my adolescence, I don't recall a single moment where my parents took a minute to level with me as a struggling, tiny human. There were no heart to hearts or calm talks of the ways of life. Perhaps I'm not the worst mom after all.

My daughter's school has a daily numbering system for behavior and general good job scoring. On the scale, 1 is bad news, 2 is only slightly better, 3 is par for the course and okay, and then 4 is the best! Yesterday my daughter got a 4, and she expected some serious rewards as her normal day to day is a 3.

With school a few weeks away from ending, we've been pretty lax on the rule front for no screens and evening routines. The kid and I are exhausted and she loves her TV and down time so, whatever, sometimes it's not worth the argument to force her to spend time with me. We still do our day to day catch up time and read books before bed, so I take to chores and let her veg. 

So for her reward, I let her re-watch the shows I have banned in the name of exploration of new stuff, and let her have free reign on the big TV until bed time. When it was definitely bed time, I started the whole "10 minute warning, 5 minute warning," mom thing, always with the disclaimer, "No arguments please!"

I always say "No arguments," with her because my daughter is the master of negotiation. She will either be a natural lawyer or hostage negotiator one day. Everything is a discussion. It's never simple. My biggest struggle is with the interruptions and trying not to stifle her. As women, we naturally get the shit end of the stick when it comes to be talked down to, talked over, or generally made to feel conversationally inferior, if not generally inferior, and as if we have no voice. This feeling is one I don't want to raise my daughter having experienced at home.

There is a patience breaking-point, or lack there-of, where enough is enough. Some things aren't a discussion. So last night when the TV time was done, it was time to get ready for bed and she came in to negotiate with, "But I wanted to watch more, I only watched one episode, I wanted to stay up late, I thought I got a reward for my 4!" All of this can be heard in the whiny 6 year old voice, of course.

When I stopped the discussion it was, "Mom you interrupted me! You're not letting me tell you what I need to say! That's unfair." Finally, crying and crumpling, she climbed onto my bed and said the real deal, the ultimate truth: "Mom, I just get really upset and think it's unfair when I don't get what I want!" I sat back for a second to take this all in. 

My first instinct was to laugh or quote the Princess Bride again: 

But then I thought, okay let's go ahead and be considerate about this. Let's make this a teachable moment. I said, "I'm sorry you're upset, and unfortunately not getting what you want is something that will happen a lot. I know it feels unfair, and some of it is. But, I'm the mom and you're the kid. I'm the grown up and you're not a grown up yet, so you need to follow the instructions and tasks, even if you're upset or you don't like them. And this behavior just proves to me that you can't get what you're asking for, because throwing a fit isn't how you get what you want."

I was impressed with myself because I didn't raise my voice. After she got her teeth brushed and went to the bathroom she came back and asked if we could make time to read books even though earlier she said she didn't want to. Of course I caved on this one because, books are always necessary. I looked at her puffy little face and said, "I'm sorry you're feelings were hurt but I'm really glad you shared your feelings with me and told me about your frustration. You can always tell me how you're feeling."

I do want her to tell me how she feels even if it's not a positive feeling. One time she said, "I hate you, Mom!" And, true to form, I yelled back, "Then that means I'm doing my job as your mom! Go to your room!" Sharing feelings is important and allowing her to feel all the feelings is even more important, in my mothering opinion.

When she told me she got upset when she didn't get what she wanted, I stared at her a second thinking, a more "Alison" comment could not have been made. Hello mini-me! And I'm the kind of person whom, if you tell me no, or that I can't, I'll do it just to spite you. If my husband said, "Yeah there's no way you could run a half marathon," even though I truly have no desire to run 13 miles, I would do it just to prove him wrong. And when people try to say, "No you can't have...", I just work harder to get it because I CAN! Maybe not the best approach, but again, I'm a work in progress.

I hope to instill the proper amount of ferocity within my daughter as well, which seems to be building in there. She sure is a trip, whom I love endlessly. And while I've struggled so much in motherhood, knowing that I can take a step back and be there like this for her, really keeps me hopeful that I won't completely mess her up. I try to resign to just mess her up the correct amount!