The DVD Punishment - When Parenting Gets Funny

I play it pretty fast and loose when it comes to restricted technology stuff. And my daughter is getting nearer to age 7 and she is well aware of what the swear words are and that she is not allowed to use them. When she acts out, especially as the tantrums and fighting with parents comes into play, the first thing she loses is any kind of technology. It's the best form of punishment.

My husband and I quickly learned, that there are ways around this where the parents are also punished. On exhausted weeknights, when my kiddo loses her TV takeover and tablet privileges, the rule is, "You can't watch one of your shows. You have to watch what I want to watch." This is why I spent time in my room when I was little, because my dad would watch Law and Order and stuff I hated.

She usually tolerates my binge-shows, Friends, The Office, Seinfeld and Parks and Rec just fine. Anything else is debate-able. I found out recently that some of my daughter's little friends have been watching my current obsession, Stranger Things, with their kiddos. My daughter is a bit of a scaredy-cat if you will, so I decided that I would offer her the chance to watch it and promised her it was all very much not real and also a story from 30+ years ago, so it's all okay. She has since declined.

Now we have been forcing movies on her since she came out into the world and the bulk are completely appropriate. Some of them may have been a bit over her head but still language and story appropriate. Some things we realized were a little dark and sad so we curbed those but last night I realized that it was time to get her out of her element a bit.

The movies my husband and I grew up on, we have re-watched and realized are filled with swear words and sometimes too much sexuality before they changed the ratings. My dad notoriously let me watch movies I should have never been able to watch at the age I was allowed to watch them. So when I watched movies with my parents where people were clearly having sex they explained it away as "Oh they are just exercising." 

Many, many sexual innuendos went over my naive little head in my youth and I now re-watch these movies like, wait, what? The greatest thing about 80's films, in my opinion were the epic actors and comedians. Ghostbusters, The Goonies, Back to The Future, Blues Brothers, Roxanne, Big, Turner and Hootch, Princess Bride, The Neverending Story, Labyrinth, and so on and so forth were those comedies that kids could watch but had humor for the parents, however inappropriate. It was last night that I turned to our crazy collection of DVDs for my daughter's technology band punishment.

My husband and I have over 200 DVDs I think. Even when streaming came out we didn't stop collecting them because the internet doesn't always work and we are from the "have a hard copy" generation. We used to browse Wal-Mart at odd hours and hit the $5 DVD bins and go wild. We especially love adding holiday classics now and Disney films to the collection. 

My daughter threw an epic tantrum and the issue we've been struggling with is "I'm sorry doesn't just take away the bad behavior." I've had to make clear to her that, while it is important to say I'm sorry and while that's so wonderful to apologize, it doesn't mean you just get your privileges back. It's a weird line and she crosses it often. So there was screaming and when she calmed down and ate her dinner I said, "I have a bunch of chores to do out here and we can watch something, but I'm going to pick."

I was browsing around and thinking of something she wouldn't totally hate. Pirates of the Caribbean? Eh, maybe. The Mask? Eh, too weird. And then I stumbled upon the Tom Hanks section of our DVDs and there it was...SPLASH. Yes the movie about the mermaid in Manhattan, total score.

It started slow and she got a little bored. There were many benign swear words and all kinds of weird sexual undertones of course I had forgotten about. By the time the mermaid found television and got to go ice skating, she was fully engaged with the story. It was the best punishment ever.

I now think she is ready for the likes of Ghostbusters and especially, E.T. It was one of those weird punishments that actually brought us together. I watched Moana 8,000 times. When was the last time I stopped what I was doing and watched Splash? It made me think of all the other gems we have hidden on a shelf and we really need to make her watch. Indiana Jones, Star Wars, even Lord of The Rings at some point. But for now we will keep her in 80's classics as her punishment, and what a punishment it is.

Parenting gets weird. I try not to fit into too many "I'm that mom" categories but it's hard. I work full time, she is in camp or school or aftercare full time. Her dad works full time. Even Grandma works full time. There is laundry, cleaning, grocery shopping, and food prep to do but sometimes you just gotta browse the DVDs and sit down and chill as a family. Even when my husband got home last night he was like, "Is this Splash!? We should watch Big next!"

Funny punishments make the whole parenting thing a little more palatable. Sometimes I'm too tired to be the scolding disciplinarian. Sometimes she's not being so bad, but just really needs to remember how to handle her little emotions and behave at home. Sometimes I've had a horrible day and I'm inadvertently short-fused. It's these moments where you need a tweak in the routine without throwing off the balance but selling her on a movie "mom picked," is almost as successful and selling her on fruit being a dessert. 

When parenting gets funny, it gets lighter. When things get lighter, they often feel better. I've started telling my daughter that if she just calls today a day, and goes to bed and reboots, we can all do better tomorrow. She seems to be warming to that idea and I'm digging the nights when the worst thing I have to do to "punish" her, is pick a new movie for us to watch.

The Vibe And The Tribe Thing

Everyone seems to know this mantra these days. I can tell you over the past 6 months, this little rhyming ideology has been a game changer for me. My best friend used to tell me that I was easily meshed into any group. I didn't fit in a clique per-se but I attract all different kinds of people and I especially am found wanting to be "the good friend."

Motherhood has made my personal friendship stuff rough. Just last week I wrote about losing contact with a friend dear to me that really hurt me. Weirdly enough some of my best and long lasting friend relationships are long distance. It's not about seeing each other or even talking on some regular basis. It's about being there for each other during the best and the worst times and never completely losing touch.

My friend from Kindergarten, also someone I have blogged about, lives in Italy and I had him call me last week just for like a 20 minute phone call. We message each other weekly if not more, but when he called me I realized I hadn't actually heard his voice in like 2 years and I forgot about all the silly things that come with that kind of interaction, the laugh, the sarcasm and such. I got off the phone and just felt so contented having had that "normal" conversation because he's one of those people that just gets me.

It's after a handful of years of stress, darkness, anxiety, depression, anger and all the MUCK that I can now admit "Hey I've been completely lost and horrible," but also that I can clearly see who stuck around and let me be ANY version of me, and are now right there with me celebrating my growth. 

I've felt ashamed. I've been ashamed of myself, my family and my circumstances for seemingly have lost a grip on our stuff. We had some wonderful milestones that we hit in the midst of the dark times and I pushed myself into the "celebratory mode" to try and get myself out of my funk but it's weird how it is only now can I adequately appreciate the journey.

We had friends over for dinner, something I realized we don't do often. I used to blame this on my husband the chef never being home and no one wants anything I could ever cook. Then I realized that we had befriended people who were buying new houses and getting new furniture and shopping and decorating and that wasn't us. Our house is a mix of sentimental hand-me-downs and gifts and a celebration of us actually having a house of our own to paint weird colors and cover in canvases.

Our friends that we hosted last night have hosted us so many times. They have a fabulous home with a great pool and it's clean, kid-friendly, dog-friendly and super great for entertaining. This was the first time we had them over and I was concerned the kids would be bored because we just had toys, no pool. 

Our friends immediately saw our daughters room and were like..."WHOA THIS IS A COOL BEDROOM." Her loft bed was painted in colors she picked much like her walls and ceiling. She had fairy lights wrapped around the edges. She has a Nintendo Wii on a Disney Princess old school tube TV and huge plastic Maximus horse. Her loft bed had a mattress and stuffed animal beneath it to chill with her action figure shelf that she hand painted filled with Disney figurines awaiting to play. The dog has a staircase to get to the top of the loft bed which has My Little Pony "carpeting." Her room has green walls and a purple ceiling.

Then my daughter showed her guests her secret dream-house play-space, also known as the garage. My husband arranged a carpeted area with his drum set, her yoga mat and the heavy bag. So one was punching, one was drumming and everyone was having a blast. My husband later told me that our friends husband said, "It's so creative over here. The piano, the drums, the place is covered in Luna's art and canvases and pictures she made everywhere it's so cool."

I had never thought of it that way. And today it is making my heart calm, happy and ridiculously grateful that we gave off that vibe. It made me think of our upcoming trip and where we are staying. We have a city full of family but I'm crashing with my best friend, her husband and their 3 children in their 3 bedroom, one bathroom house. Why? Because I have always loved staying with her because it feels like a home away from home. The last time we were there, she brought out old Barbie toys and a doll house for my daughter that they still had. They have dogs, cats, bunnies, chickens, you name it. The girls re-decorate and swap rooms often. There are pictures of her mom and family and craft projects everywhere. I'm completely comfortable there and it just makes sense to be around my people.

My house is a place where you can spill without getting yelled at. I didn't spend $2,000 on a dinette set so, if you get glue on my table I could care less. We don't have matching furniture so if you stain something maybe it will actually match another piece. I watched two friends we really enjoy, and their kids, just walk into our house and embrace it. Then I watched my daughter show off all the things she loves about her home from, the guest room to her room, to her garage. It was a weird sort of gratification, in a way.

My husband outed me as only having "the same people," over. We have my cousins and our other close couple friends over. Otherwise we really don't "host." It's strange because I can hostess like a boss, but I think up until yesterday, I just felt so awkward about our house. I think I reflected all my own insecurities onto my poor house and last night it proved itself to be our "home."

The vibe and the tribe thing are real. Even through my worst phases of life, the people that have caused me stress or discomfort, the people who I have been challenged by, the ones who have stuck around to see me push through everything, are enjoying me being in a better place and THAT feels amazing too.

And don't get me wrong, it's not a "happy" thing. This isn't some "Oh yeah because I'm happy now." I'm not that person. I am awake, I am healing, I am growing and I am slowly owning my trauma. I was not able to do that 3 years ago. I was not able to do that 2 years ago. In that process I was not always like-able and I can own that now too.

If anything I'm affirming that all the cliches are completely real. You have to take things "one day at a time." If you can get a day with "no complaints," call it good. The feelings I'm putting out into the universe are being reciprocated as they should be and the things I don't need are falling out of the way.

I am finding that the people that I need to keep up my forward momentum are right there alongside me. My tribe is ridiculously important to me and I hold them dear. This isn't to say anyone who isn't in my "vibe" isn't in my "tribe" either. I feel good in my general surroundings and support system, which is a huge step. I have always felt that feeling lonely when you are alone is natural but feeling lonely when surrounded by people or in the company of friends is the absolute worst feeling ever, so you can afford to be picky about that sometimes.

With all my years with one foot in the hippie door in Oregon, I can tell you that most of their mantras are true and helpful so, I leave you with this for a Monday Musing:

 

Reflection Week 2019

If I had to make a summation of this week at a glance, it would be "good." My default response to all the "How are you?," questions these days is, "No complaints." I say this because I'm coming off of spending years as a complainer. The whole idea that I have broken through a bunch of things, has kicked me into high gear reflection lately and this weak has been especially reflective. Therefore it has so been dubbed Reflection Week 2019.

I got honest with a friend via text about my inner dialogue. I talk myself INTO and OUT OF a lot, regularly and daily. It can be simple like "Oh I should get new shoes for that wedding, nah I can just wear those black heels, why waste money" to, "I really need to make time to be a better mom because I get so tired and I don't think I spend enough quality time with my daughter." It can feel frenzied and it can feel maddening but it is part of my anxiety and I manage it as I can.

My husband had a bad day the other day. It was your normal, run of the mill, nothing going quite right day. When he reached out to me just needing to vent, I said, "Hey we all have these days and you learn to manage them better as you get more comfy in your mind and your anxieties, why do you think I work out so much?" He made a silly comment but I told him that working out helps me manage my anxiety and mood so I can feel less physical reactions to my mental upsets and I can better rationalize my inner dialogue. Somehow working out slows down my mind.

My husband did not take this as some "Get fit, get a grip on anxiety," motivational speech I think it just helped him understand more. We are working on that a lot, more understanding. It can be weird to explain to people honestly, but he gets me...mostly.

Other reflections include friendships, relationships, life, family and all the things really. I don't mean this to sound as though I'm sitting quietly meditating about growth, perspective and such, I'm just saying that I've been paying better attention to how far things have come in general.

Sometimes it is hard for me to embrace the good. I feel as though I can handle the chaos, crises and struggle the best, but often the calm and easygoing cause me to become more unhinged. Call it a product of past trauma but admitting that about myself has to be at least something.

Reflecting on the friendship stuff this week has been an emotional roller-coaster. I have had moments of wanting to "cave" and initiate the check in with someone and then just reminding myself that I already tried once or twice and must leave the ball in their court for response or reciprocation and just keep sending them the good vibes of wellness and prosperity.

Creating boundaries is anything but simple. Some boundaries are clear and others feel foggy so finding my way around all of that can be overwhelming but I do what I can. I was invited to something I could not afford this week. It was with wonderful people but it was at a place I'm not so crazy about and I knew between a babysitter and what I would spend being out, it was just not affordable, so I said I couldn't do it. Rather than talk about being broke or not wanting to go to that restaurant, I just said I didn't have a sitter and left it at that. It just wasn't good timing and I'm being fiscally cautious with vacation coming up.

What was interesting for me is that I didn't feel badly about saying no. Usually I feel guilty and like I'm being a drama queen but this time I just embraced it. I'd rather be home unwinding from the week then out dropping $50+ on sub-par food and entertainment, no matter how much I enjoy the company. I've become picky lately about where I'm putting my time, money and energy and it feels more and more okay the more I stand my ground.

In reflection this week I realize I'm less angry. My resentments are being handled more delicately. I'm starting to open up a bit more. I'm guarded in a more positive way, rather than negative way and I'm managing my shame, embarrassment and upset about things in a more constructive way. I'm navigating my traumas at my own pace and I like that.

I had a recent realization about triggers, which is that now that I'm fully enmeshed in the healing process, the triggers between my husband and I and even my child, are going to be coming up and we need to try and negotiate them as a family or at least voice, "Hey that's a weird trigger," so we can handle them better. 

In affirming to close friends where I am on this journey, and revealing slowly more and more about how dark, frustrating and uncomfortable it has all been, it has generally been received well that I'm honest about where I am in the process. Just a handful of years ago I was a mess and barely functioning. I may still have a bad day like that, but now I can better articulate what's actually going on. 

Watching my husband grow and heal, face some demons and just find his footing has been intense. What began as "proceed with caution," is more and more becoming just being impressed with the steps and strides he is taking and has taken. When you live in a place of "Oh that could never happen," or "I just have to accept x,y,z" and you watch those negative constructs being crushed in healing empowerment, you can't help but smile and have a weird sense of being proud of the time and effort put into the growth.

Ironically during my mental, emotional and spiritual reflection, my body has been having a hard time pushing through physical hurdles. You win some, you lose some. How I choose to handle these frustrations say more about where I am than anything else, I feel.

I'm well aware life has it's ups and downs and bad things still happen but considering our last handful of years, I'd like to think of those as "the dark times," and continue on into some sunshine. Moreover in Reflection Week 2019, I like knowing that we've started moving in the right direction, and that we are working as a family unit. On my bad days I worry that this will all drop from under me, or that I'll find a way to screw it up but on my good days I am grateful for the lessons, the journey, the struggles and the little wins that remind me that we're doing better than we think we are. 

I'm not a "Yay I'm finally happy," kind of person. I had a conversation with a friend that has had some similar stress and trauma to mine and I reminded her that there will always be phases of struggle but half the battle is how you approach it. I said, sometimes you need to be angry and upset and sad to get through it and she could just know that yeah, maybe I have no idea of what and how she is feeling but at least I could remind her that she wasn't alone. We both kind of agreed that the world needs more of that.

There were so many times over the past few years I wish instead of being given advice or being told what I should be doing, that someone would have just sat next to me and said, "That sucks but I'm here for you." We feel alone too much anymore, and that is the worst feeling when you're surrounded by people. I think that's why I stopped being a complainer. Not only did it bring the wrong type of energy into my space, but it serves no purpose. Why complain about something when you can work on it? That was my "Ah-ha," moment.

I have a friend that I never actually see. We get together maybe once a year as she lives a good 90 minutes away. We went through a rough phase where both of us were just in bad spots in our lives and we text each other daily just how much everything sucked. We felt empowered by both of us suffering together; it was that whole "misery loves company" mentality. It kept me in a downward spiral for a very, very long time. It was not helpful, in fact it inadvertently just made my depression and anxiety worse. It wasn't until earlier this year when I stepped outside of myself and watch the effects of these interactions, saw what it did to me, and what it turned me into that I was like "Whoa, never again, no thank you."

We don't talk and text that way any more. She seems happier and so do I, it has been noted. It's not because we were bad for each other, we were just using our kinship for the negative instead of bringing each other into a more positive place. We had to grow separately for a bit. We had to heal apart and find our tribes.

So to end Reflection Week 2019 on a decent note, I would say I'm completely a work in progress. Some days I'm a mess. Some days I'm so with it. Everything is in flux, but I feel better equipped to taking it all on. If you are in a dark space, I encourage you to reach out to anyone you can trust. It will be uncomfortable, but feeling alone already can so I ask that you give it a try. Feel free to reach out to me too as I'm more than happy to share more on a personal, less blog-worthy basis.

The Broken Spoon

When my parents split when I was 16, they divided everything in half in terms of most of the "stuff." Then my mom and dad ended up giving me the bulk of it when I was in my twenties. Dishes, albums, turntables, random furniture and pictures were given to me. The dishes are the ones that have followed me everywhere; every state and home I've ever lived. 

I found some of my childhood dishes. I mean little ceramic plates with horses and flowers on them for kid-sized things. There are spoons with ceramic dog and cat handles and of course the Christmas-related dishes we dust off once a year.

I used to guard these kinds of things carefully. I was never one to buy a bunch of "nice things" so the things I did have that were nice, I loved and kept close. I was a collector of random stuff...until I had kids. Then I wanted no stuff, and certainly nothing of value. Everything gets broken at some point and anything can lose sentiment as we grow older and the memories fade out, so most things we have now just center around functionality.

In 10 years together my husband and I have never been able to agree on a dish set. In my first apartment, my mom got me purple and maroon striped matching everything and my husband loathed them. They were replaced by my parents set of light blue Pfaltzgraff and we wore those to the bone. We still have them, they now just hide in "retirement" for special occasions only or if necessary at all. We have a random array of IKEA, Bed, Bath and Beyond, and JC Penney stuff from over the years but nothing special.

I used to have little decorative things all over. The dog took down a few of them but one ceramic bowl I painted at one of those paint your pottery places? Yeah my daughter broke that on the tile within the first 6 months after we bought the house. It didn't bother me. It served no real purpose except that I made it and it was now one less thing to dust.

The bottom of the butter dish that was my dad's and is older than me that matches nothing but I refuse to give up? Yeah my daughter grabbed something from the counter and rocketed that thing right off into 50 ceramic shards, again on the tile in the new house. That one I was pretty annoyed with. She apologized but I knew it wasn't really her fault. This is life, it's messy and things break often.

Something kicked in when we got the new house to where I just didn't care about having "nice things," anymore I was just so grateful to have a house of our own. We've never bought furniture from a legit store other than IKEA. We have lived off of hand me downs for quite some time.

We got a pull out couch from an auction right before I had the baby. We had completely trashed that thing by the time she was 3 years old. It was ripped and torn and falling apart. We got a replacement faux leather one that got ripped by dogs and just wasn't even that comfy. Our newest couches were a gracious gift from someone we love very much and I scold my daughter for mistreating them and say, "We will never get nice stuff like this for free ever again!"

I got a bunch of free stuff from an old boss too, including a piano. Total score! None of it matches or is even really my taste but free is for me. It has never occurred to me to go buy matching things honestly, because I feel like I have no one to impress and with kids and dogs and life, who wants to look like they live in a museum? I want our place to look like we love our home.

Sure there are some coffee mugs I just love and would be bummed if they broke. I have some favorite salt and pepper shakers and such but things break, and some you can fix, some you can't.

Last night my daughter had her go-to dessert, ice cream with chocolate syrup and sprinkles. I always ready the bowl but make sure she gets her own spoon.

She was enjoying her dessert and Netflix and then she came running into my room in full on hysterics. "Mom, I'm so sorry. Mom, it just fell and I just, I BROKE THE SPOON!"

There it was, a little headless puppy spoon in two pieces. I said completely calm, perhaps even deadpan, "Hey, it's fine. It's just a spoon. I'm not mad or upset, not even disappointed." She still wasn't completely calm. I then explained that accidents happen and the only way she would have been in trouble would have been if she hadn't told me or if she lied about it.

At first I was anxious and upset that she thought I would unleash the "momster," on her but I understood that I had warned her so often that things would break on the tile (because they will) that she had a fear about it, but also she is knowingly sensitive to when I raise my voice. Then I looked closer and realized we could probably glue it anyway, but regardless, it just wasn't worth the energy of getting mad.

She came back into my room to talk about it more and I just told her, it was fine. It was just stuff. It was just a broken spoon. Maybe it is all part of the priorities, the growth, the perspective, and the stuff I've been writing about this entire year, but sometimes it really is just a broken spoon. I've spent so much time and energy being mad about silly things and I now realize it was more a projection of my anger that my life was in such chaos and that I had no control, rather than being legitimately upset about the smaller things. 

What is that saying, "Don't sweat the small stuff?" Well I've spent years sweating! Now that I have a handle on things, it seems as though I can breath easier on such things and am far less balmy.

I understand my daughter's "fear of telling," the grown up. I was generally afraid of getting in trouble often. I can't pinpoint why; I don't even remember really being yelled at. My daughter seems to have that same sentiment. In younger years as I mom I would yell or overreact so things wouldn't fall down or she wouldn't get really hurt. After the car accident, I seem to have been taken down a peg or two in terms of that kind of anxiety. You learn and grow as a mom and you definitely pick your battles!

I told her not to be afraid of me and I appreciated her telling me and guess what? I Gorilla-glued the spoon. It is drying and I plan on surprising her. The whole incident felt blog-worthy as another example of just how things can evolve. Maybe 4 years ago I would have cried it out and felt such a loss of the nostalgic spoon, but even if I would have had to toss it, me and that spoon had a good run. 

I'm hoping I can keep this vibe going and translate it into other things as well. We'll see!

The Friend Fade

I've gone on about ghosting and such before, but a long time ago I did a personal journal about what I like to ominously call "The Fade." It is something that used to wear on me heavily and make my heart hurt, but now, recently in fact, I have healed enough to talk about what it all really means.

If you get on Pinterest you can find a million memes and articles about friends drifting apart and ghosting and outgrowing each other and everything to trigger you back to whatever social stuff you went through that makes you a little more attuned to things now. I've gotten sucked into the Pinterest quote and notes and have mixed feelings about whether or not it is helpful, but you can find some wisdom for sure.

I'll share my experience then, and what I have learned from it and how I use it now, and hopefully it can help some others feel less alone.

Before I had my daughter I had a tight knit group of amazing co-workers and befriended someone physically, spiritually and mentally beautiful. She and her family got my pregnant self, my husband and my newborn and infant through our first year as a family and I will forever feel grateful for them and miss them like crazy. Just typing this I'm welling up. They were the best ever.

I think being around them was our first taste of a second family home in Florida and we loved it. I considered her parents to be my daughters grandparents that were close by and considered her and her sister all aunties. They were our second family in my opinion.

Parenthood was rough on my husband and I. There were so many really uncomfortable and unfavorable things at play during that first year as parents and I struggled as a mother to balance everything. Looking back now, I wish I had been more open with my best friend about what was really going on but I can tell you, my family is still healing from some of the pain and trauma from that time period.

By the time my daughter was three my gorgeous Tampa best friend and I were barely speaking much. She hosted my child's first birthday party and was my greatest help and she was gone from my life, just a name on a friends list, a person in the background. At the time it felt painful, awkward and anxious but after a lot of reflection I now understand how and why we grew apart.

Between my friend getting her own adult life with her wonderful boyfriend together, getting away from parental units and getting into school, and with my being a fresh mom with a workaholic husband and no fun money or availability for much of a social life, the shift started easily, although perhaps I was too tired to call it out for what it was. She did so much for me and I miss her daily.

When I was starting to get into my worst, darkest stages, when I was very lost and beginning my year long struggle with job changes, weight loss and adulting stuff, that was when the fade began. I didn't feel abandoned in a time of need, I felt like I needed to let her grow and thrive because she was considerably younger than me and very much allowed to go and have fun and be young without my old self getting in the way.

The fade started with simply changing a lot of plans often, and things coming up. If it wasn't one of us, it was both of us having a hard time scheduling and committing. As I became less available due to family circumstances, it made it easier for her to step back more and more. The tagging on social media posts stopped. The liking of the pictures and statuses became few and far between. The texts went from daily to every other day to once a week to once every couple weeks to maybe once a month to nothing. 

After a few months of almost no contact I scraped together money for Christmas gifts for her and her sister because she'd at least touch base to say thank you, or so I thought. I figured then I could check in and try and talk to her. I messaged her mom to confirm they received them and she sweetly said her sister loved them. I didn't hear anything from best friend about it. Ever. We didn't speak for 6 month after I sent the gifts, until the car accident.

She messaged me and apologized for the lapse in communication. She said she wanted to come bring us lunch. The day of the plans she fell ill and couldn't come. We did the whole, "another time," song and dance well with each other. I may have messaged her some well wishes about having no malice that we just didn't fit in each other's lives anymore. The cancelled lunch plans, however, that was the last I ever heard from her 3 years ago.

We're still on each other's social media but I check on her and she seemingly doesn't check on me. The people who knew us as besties say they are surprised that we don't talk anymore. I sent her messages just saying, "I hope you know I think the world of you and wish you well," and such for awhile but then just wanted to let her be.

Sometimes I wish I could write her a letter and tell her about how messed up things were and how I wish I had been more aware, awake and engaged with her to be a better friend. I wish I could say I understand how and why she outgrew me but all I want is good things for her and wish we could check in from time to time. I wish I could apologize for not being more present for her issues while wrapped in my own. But I realize that things turned out how they should, whether I like it or not.

About a year after we stopped speaking I realized how badly her exit had messed me up. I spiraled into a very dark, self-hating, world-hating, negative place. It was a learning experience I needed to have. I needed to make the mistakes I made to get me to where I am now, but it still was shitty. I found the wrong kinds of friends on the "rebound" from losing her, which somehow made it all even worse.

Sometimes I think she knew it all. I think she saw me kind of starting to wither and maybe she just couldn't do it so she just politely excused herself from the table and never returned to dinner. I often find myself wishing I could tell her that I'm okay now; I'm better and still working on my growth.

I cry typing right now because I hate that my daughter only has small memories of all that my wonderful ex-bestie and her family did for us. I hung onto so many silly things from her just because I liked remembering when we were good and close and happy. I talk to my daughter about her on occasion. I like to remind my daughter that she has always been surrounded by good people and love, even when we had rough times. 

The friend fade is rough though. She's not the only person it has happened with but I feel like with the rest of the situations, people have moved onto new cities, bigger opportunities and different horizons but we still do that check in on social media or text where we just say, "Hey I'm so glad you are doing this," or "Congrats." Her and I don't even have the check in. We don't have anything anymore, and that still breaks my heart a little.

If she reads my blog, which I highly doubt, then now she knows all this stuff. If not, the hippie part of me just wanted to put this into the universe because it's part of the healing and growing process.

I've experienced other versions of the fade as well, some with a friend return, and others with a complete ghosting effect but none of it is an easy thing. I don't think I'll ever stop wishing we could feel closure with things. I will always want that kind of resolution, but I'm smart enough to realize that's just not how life works. 

My other sad musing is that, we lose out and experience the fade because we hit rough phases of life that we are so engulfed in that we can't adequately share and reach out to those we need the most during such trials. Maybe it is age but I feel like, we often have these friends that we just hold close that we claim are our "everything" and "always," those people that we will never picture our life not having around, and then they move on and we look back fondly but realize that we can actually live without them, perhaps we just enjoyed things more when we had them by our sides.

I lost a lot of good people that I was very close to during my family trauma. I'm just now owning most of it, and finding my way to talk about it with everyone that survived all of my whims and flakiness in the midst of it all. There's been so much shame and regret to work through but I can now have some real conversations about it. 

I still hold hope she'll message me one day. I've seen it happen with other friends and I will always hold hope, even if we're 80, that we can reconnect. I've made peace with the fact we probably won't. To quote Pam Beasley on The Office, "And it only took 3 years to summon the courage."

Losing my previous Tampa bestie has made it easier for me to endure the whims of other friendships and learn how to balance the positive and negative aspects of those relationships too. I've learned that I have to walk away peacefully knowing that, I put the good vibes out there for a friend but they must return and reciprocate by their own free will. I can't make them be the "kind" of friend I want or need in that moment, that day or that situation. 

Losing her has made me appreciate the longevity of other friendships like my Oregon friends from college and my two oldest friends that have known me since Kindergarten and 3rd grade from Pennsylvania. We still talk regularly. Losing her has made me grateful that I had someone like her to call a friend at all. Sometimes it is more bittersweet than other times.

I've seen some sappy articles about this on social media but this one is from the heart. Some of you will know exactly who I wrote this about, and those of you who have never heard me mention her, now you know why. 

I will always be grateful for the role she had in my life. I feel blessed that I knew her when I did. I feel blessed I can still see her on Facebook and Instagram and know that she is doing okay, thriving even. If you have ever lost someone like this, it can trigger many different reactions and emotions. It happens to more people than we can imagine, and it's often a tough tale to tell, but for today I'm glad I shared mine. 

When Your Priorities Change

Priorities change, in my opinion, most naturally when you enter parenthood. Priorities can change, violently when you become a mom, or so was my personal experience. This is usually coined as maternal instinct. Your priorities then change when you begin adulting more. You want a house, a newer car, furniture sets. You need a stable job, you want salary, paid vacations and so on and so forth. Your priorities change.

Everyone has this happen at difference paces and stages. They shift often in life, and that is okay. Recently I acknowledged the largest shift I've felt in awhile and instead of feeling some kind of shame or resentment, it is a welcome, pretty organic shift. 

The tales of my drinking days are legendary mostly because I was that drunken girl that always made a fool out of myself. I told my best friend's girlfriend at the time that I really hated her, and then she had to redress me and she slept next to me because I was so intoxicated when I was 19. Those days are long gone, let me tell you. What does my crazy drinking night look like now? A cocktail or a glass of wine with a great meal, two drinks if I'm about to get insane. This happens maybe twice a month.

Drinking just isn't a thing in my life, in our lives, anymore. We don't keep any alcohol in the house and we never go out. And if we splurge on treats? They are dessert based. 

This shift doesn't bother me. It offered slightly stressful admissions and confrontations in the past but now, it just feels good. It doesn't register to me to want or need some kind of drink to take an edge off. Okay, maybe tea or coffee. It also doesn't feel like a necessity to have at a dinner table, it is usually about with whom I share my company. 

There are days where I might want a nice cold beer from a favorite brewery, but I never want to spend my time or money that way when we're having fun at home, or doing something else. There are bad nights where I wish I could unwind with a glass of wine, but then I could wake with a headache or hangover and ruin the next day if I don't drink enough water. It's not worth the trip to get the wine and then wrestle with the bottle. Bring on the SleepyTime tea!

Your priorities can change all over the place and often, but not all of them will feel like a positive shift. When I was in darker places mentally, my priorities did include drinking for distraction, being out to avoid being home, and spending like I had something to prove. These all have contributed to the current shift, and are other reasons why I feel such affirmation this round.

I like that my world no longer revolves around that as a social thing. I'd much prefer breakfast and an epic cup of coffee anyway. I'd rather indulge in dessert than "get drunk." Chocolate wasted is even better!

I've started to pay close attention to what I like to invest my time in, and what I don't. I am quick to embrace routines and keep up with them, but I struggle with letting go of my comfort zones.

Friend and The Office are my in the background, mentally exhausted, "comfort food," binge shows. If I don't know what to watch or how to deal, they are just on a loop. I hang in my bed a lot and ration chores more instead of taking them all on. I know I need to better prioritize my self care. It's on my list, and I'm a work in progress so, I'll get there.

Once I establish my routine, breaking it can be rough and often comes with many contingency plans. For example, I go to a spin class with a neighbor as her guest and I always have a backup plan for a workout in case something comes up and she won't be able to go with me. Having multiple options for how things play out are important to me anymore. It's a close as "go with the flow," and I can get, so I do my best!

When your priorities change it is my most humble opinion, that you are in some periods of transition. These can be good or bad transitions, in my experience, but shifts nonetheless. When I change my priorities it helps me shift my outlook, my attitude and can alleviate my anxiety. This is huge.

I've been incredibly focused on the mental health and growth of my immediate family being my, husband, daughter and even dog. And myself, yes, myself. With that comes a lot of renewed takes on outlooks, attitude adjustments and navigating my nagging anxiety.

As I've changed my priorities, moving them closer to home, my anxiety has been far more manageable and this is a huge win for me, so I keep nursing this progress gently. I've had to protect my well being more and take a step back from questionable situations, friendships and circumstances, but all for the better. 

Priority changes don't really just happen overnight. They are more so goals. If you want to go out less and save more, it's a day to day plan and determination. If your priority is making sure your child can enroll in fall sports, maybe you forego weekly coffee or coupon more. If your priority is more concentrated time with your hubby maybe you turn off your phone for awhile when you're together. It all takes energy and purpose.

However it all works for you, could be completely different than my experience but I welcome anyone to share. Life is busy and crazy but it seems to me that if your priorities match the mania, you'll fair well in the end. I can always report back, especially if my experience is the opposite!