The auction is over!
I'm exhausted. There's tear down tomorrow. Our laundry hasn't been started. It's Sunday tomorrow.
I think we may have beat a few records and earned more than in years past. Wood and I sure spent a lot.
Note to self: that was successful and good. Better than I imagined it would be. However, no more spending. No more volunteerism. Period.
It's Wonelle time now. End of discussion.
G'Nite.
The school meeting yesterday was much better than last week's shin-dig. No one made any stupid remarks about my kid warranting my transformation into a momma grizzly bear. That in and of itself was a success!
Everyone except Teacher 2 had great suggestions on how to get Twig to a different place than he is now - even Teacher 1 (meaning his first grade teacher). And everyone, save Teacher 2, is open to working together and doing whatever can be done to help turn this around.
Which is what makes the title of this post so hilariously frustrating - it was all that Teacher 2 had so say via email about our last two meetings. Everyone else talked about focus on strategy, Twigs great qualities, hope, etc. She is so very rigid in her thinking and ways that she can't see past the problem to get to a solution. You can see in her face when she is unwilling to even consider a new strategy. She's acting like a 2nd grader herself; she's unwilling to change.
I got in a good dig about "communication" although I didn't do it in that dig kind of way - the information the school collected about Twig's actions during school, and which they presented to us yesterday, is clear and concise: he's an AD/HD kid out of control in school, causing a ruckus everywhere he goes. His teacher can't handle it and it's not going away without some serious help.
Damn if they didn't tell us how terribly out of control and untenable it was until MARCH. We asked the child psychologist about the AD/HD classes in the fall - the only reason we didn't do them in September was because the TEACHER (&*%@?$) DIDN'T COMMUNICATE THE PROBLEMS!
Here we are - thank goodness they offer the 10 weeks of classes in the spring. We are already signed up and guess which teacher JUMPED at the chance to attend the workshops? Not his 2nd grade -current teacher- but Ms. 1st grade. Which is great but ugh.
Yes, we are collaborating on whether this school is the right fit moving forward.
We attended an auction last week. No, sadly, the school auction is this week. Anyway, I saw a photo of myself and boy do I look old.
Boy, do I feel old. Tired to the bone. Achy. Dry skin. Cranky. Always thinking of how "easier it used to be".
Juggling so much is all it is. There's little, if any, processing time. Sleep is almost as much work as work sometimes (growing pains are painful for everyone). I'm overwhelmed by the school auction that I've done little work on, work, the teacher's bullshit, and such. I want to snatch that boy out of school and run away. Instead I'll send him to his Bam and Aunties for almost three weeks after school ends. Actually, two days before school ends. I'm done with 2nd grade.
The gym is paid for but I haven't found the time to set up to go. Thinking about it doesn't count even though I have lost a few pounds from changing my diet. I'm so exhausted where do I get the energy? No matter, I just need to get into the habit of going.
Space will emerge after this weekend. The auction will be over. Spring break is upon us, too so we will get a break from classroom drama. Summer plans are taking shape. Work will be easier with that space but I *can* handle it now.
I'm getting older but not old. I am overwhelmed but not overdone. I am a grownup.
Twig has been an avid reader since he was a baby. We started with "The Very Hungry Caterpillar", "When Hippos Go Berserk" and other fantastic board book titles when he was just 4 or 5 months old and haven't stopped.
He's always relished the evening time when we lay down together and enter another place and time. It's a chance to connect on a different level than when preparing for or completing the day. There's argument only because he wants us to continue on.
He started reading early. Before kindergarten, maybe at 4 years old actually and enjoyed reading those board books for a minute or two. Nothing, it would seem, compared to Mom or Dad reading aloud. To the tune of Wood read the entire Harry Potter series to him in 9 months about a year ago. It was an impressive pace, that's for sure.
During first grade, and this year for sure, the independent reading activities he's required to do as homework has been quite a battle. He refuses to do the 20 minutes without serious consequences. It is impacted by the fact that he hates his teacher and she certainly doesn't like him (but that's another post I don't have time for right now) but it has been a bit of a head scratcher for us.
Technology is one of those things that he's always up for so I got the brilliant idea to offer up my kindle a few weeks ago. He was excited to read and did so for a couple of minutes when suddenly he began to complain that it was hard to read the words. I thought it a bit strange but changed the font size for him and do you know what happened? That child read Harry Potter for more than an hour without complaint - two days in a row!
I mentioned to Twig that he could need glasses, given our experiment and his newfound love of reading (was it the kindle or his eyes, I wondered aloud). His teacher reportedly told him that the thought of him needing glasses was "just an excuse". Needless to say I took him to the optometrist as soon as possible. It was unfortunate that it couldn't happen before our parent teacher conference that was moved up a week because of his problems with the teacher, but I digress.
The boy is nearsighted; while his prescription is slight, and the doctor said optional, glasses will help him to see things close up. He chose blue frames to match mine. Aww, that's so sweet!
I'm excited for the world that will be opened up for him by less struggle and strain to do close up work. And even more excited to toss the "excuse" in the teachers face come the Parent Teacher Conference this Thursday.
Here's what we've been up to: one "bad" behavior report from school, one parent teacher/counselor/school engagement counselor conference, one eye doctor appointment, diagnosis of far sightedness and selection-of-glasses process, and a cold mixed in between one missed personal training appointment, one Individual Education Plan development training, one school foundation presentation to the Sons of Norway, preparation for the school auction and attendance at the Children's Theater auction. Yes, this is stuff happening before and after work. It's been an intense week!
My belly is bugging me something fierce these past several weeks. Some digging found that this gall bladder issue, if that's what it is, started 7 years ago. When I had an ultrasound, it found a spot on my kidney that was supposed to be checked regularly but wasn't because I wasn't told that anything needed to be done. Ugh. I saw a Naturopathic Dr. a couple of weeks ago, made some dietary changes per her recommendations and she ordered CT reports from my appendix emergency room visit. The hope is that they got a good image of my gall bladder and kidney, that further imaging is not needed. The good news is that the type of spot on my kidney is a 9mm fat cyst only problematic if it gets really big. It's probably nothing to worry about.
The other good news is that I have been feeling better as a result of the dietary modifications; no wheat, dairy, coffee, eggs, pork or onions. It's healthier and whenever I've made a mistake, the culprit is obvious. And the scale has gone down by 10 in about a week and a half. That works for me.
Well, the family is beckoning me to eat breakfast. I should oblige. Good times are key to our happiness.
She's married to Wood and her son is Twig. She and her husband are a team that communicates, works together, plans for the future and has a pretty good life. Sure, there are tough grown up circumstances that challenge them but they can handle it.
Twig gets most of what he needs. They wonder if it's too much but plug along as parents do, trying to shape a good hearted, thinking person; they do what they can to attend to his social and deep emotional needs. Which happen to be intense lately.
The boy says he has magic powers - if he thinks something it happens. When it doesn't, it's just because he didn't do a good job at predicting the future. Wonelle tells him she's got magic, too. Everybody does, they just don't listen to it. She tells him about energy. He tells her that his magic can only happen once, that's why it isn't consistent. She reminds him that Harry Potter and all of his friends repeat the same magic over and over. It can be done with some practice (maybe not willing things to happen with your mind but hell, who am I to say?).
She attends to his needs, her husband's needs, work, household chores both mundane and out of the ordinary. She has energy, stamina, drive. Strength, purpose, fortitude. Perhaps it's Mercury on her side. Or just a spot of magic that's been hiding out of view for a spell.
No matter, she feels like herself today (or is it the last few days) - or at least some version of capable and comfortable in her own skin. It feels good. She knows she's on the right path. She is the same-old Wonelle (just weari.g bi-focals), that's who.
I woke up from this awesome dream a few minutes ago. In it, wood and I moved to a new garden apartment, with Mistress Maggie and Twig (who in the dream was my niece Butthead). We had lots of neighbors with pets - cats, dogs, and wildly decorated cockatoos. The birds decor was often a source of income, if it was.good enough, they'd get upwards of $150.
There was no stress in my dream. Even for potentially stressful things like when I couldn't find the litter box and the kid left without saying where w/he was going. Not an ounce of worry even despite the fact that we had just moved.
Wood was at work.
There were people everywhere even though we were in a very private place. Friendly, happy, helpful friends that it seemed I'd known all of my life. Maybe this is astral travel again? One friend gave me directions around town along with pointers, I jogged with at least one or two others. The running was great!
We lived by the beach.
That is all I can muster at the moment. But it was beautiful to be among friends. To feel safe and comfortable, especially in a new place..
Woods all time favorite cartoon character. The role Twig plays in his upcoming theater performance. What I have allowed myself to become.
The question I keep repeating is whether this "need" I have is something to be investigated further, a wild goose chase, a means to sabotage my relationship, or mental illness?
I have not been able to fall back to sleep since putting Twig down. My stomach hurts a bit, funky throat feelings this evening, stress about work and my mind won't turn off about Sarah. Not her, per se but the concept of infidelity. Even despite what I know about my husband - that he is uber loyal and faithful, even when it does not serve him to do so.
I let the bad voices take over - went and poked around email. Turns out there's nothing and yet I can't seem to turn it off.
Really, Wood doesn't deserve my sneaking around to look at his stuff. Neither do I. It's unfair.
Dear Snoopy,
Q U I T.
There's nothing to see here. It's okay, you're not lying to yourself. Besides, if you are, it will be made clear to you. Deal with it then.
L
I can't totally shake the fear and loathing of Sarah. Wood's old and new phone email, text, and photos were clear of any damning evidence, save the steamy porn featuring oral sex (which I have issues with providing) on the old cell phone, with regard to Sarah or the other work colleague I freaked out about. I came clean - told him of my teenage antics looking at his stuff and how insanely out of control I feel about the whole thing.
Have I mentioned lately that I also feel like he's the best guy in the whole wide world and how lucky I am to have him as my husband? He could have freaked out, stomped, yelled, screamed, or reacted otherwise poorly to my accusation-line-of-questioning-insecurity. But he didn't.
He was noticeably upset by the audacity of it all because, after all, he's a one woman man. But he listened. Intently. Caringly. With grace, humility, and respect.
All the qualities that led me to marry him were there through those conversations. They've been lying dormant with respect to me for a while. It was nice to see and experience them first hand. It has definitely been good in myriad ways.
We've were going at it intensely since the confrontation last week - as in something insane like 5 out of 7 days of super hot, hot, hot wonderful! Granted we were unencumbered while in Vegas but it continued when we returned home - late nights and early school-mornings. We haven't been that amorous since we F I R S T started dating.
I wonder if I'm insecure AND fertile. Okay, add bat-shit-crazy to the list of what I am because despite all of the good, the talking, steamy sex and such, I'm not completely confident that its "over". He's a tight lipped guy. Maybe he's just really good at keeping a secret, an excellent liar, and I'm just seeing what I want to see?
Thanks for listening.
We walked through the festival and found our seat among the people in attendance. Wood had his beer. At the table, we talked as did the others. Our conversation was about That Witch - I accused her of being a Witch and of taunting Wood and me in bad ways. The tone was fine for a bit and suddenly changed - I got angry. I yelled and swiped my hand across the air, catching his plastic beer cup. It bent. Wood was surprised. The others at the table stared at me. I apologized buy wanted to shrink away and not be seen.
Except for the physical and verbal outbursts, I think this dream is a recap of what happened between Wood and I with regard to his colleague and my insecurity. Throughput the night, it kept repeating itself - in my lucid mind - as if to not forget this. To show me how outrageously immature I had been and how I had embarrassed myself and my husband. As if to say "it's not over", at least for you, Wonelle. And probably for him, too. See what his friend from work gave him upon his return to the office? Perhaps his colleague that sat a few rows in front of us heard our conversation and told his work friend? I
It seems like it should be over. I'm just wondering if its really over. Clearly, there's some embarrassement to work through.
Since our trip, my sleep has been light. I'm on alert as it were, extra sensitive to Wood - his breathing is waking me from very dreamy places full of intrigue and work. Figurative and literal intrigue and work.
Last night we had pizza with lots of arugula piled on top for dinner. I had chips & salsa before dinner. Lots of wine. Except for the chips & salsa, the same on Friday night. My stomach was heavy, kind of queasy early on both Friday and last night. I wonder if it's the food I've ingested. Maybe its that combined with feeling like my entire constitution is off-kilter. Coming off the flu a tiny bit still and vestiges of Vegas all over the place - dry (sandpaper like) skin, athletes foot, a need for vegetables and a few good poops.
Besides that, there is a lot on my mind:
1. The work I'm doing with my Nice Lady. She recommended a book - How to be an adult in relationships (Ricoh). The focus, apparently as I haven't started reading yet, is about being present.
2. Twig has been very weepy and whiny the last couple of days. He needs more than usual amounts of encouragement and processing time from me. School has been exceptionally hard for him over the past few weeks as he's on a "behavior plan" in the classroom and we've set very tough consequences for failure to perform - as in loss of all extra curricular activities. I'm not totally keen on the teacher right now as she's made some hefty suggestions about his behavior meaning he can't stay at the school. His academics are fine. Except that she's marking those down because of behavior. She hasn't talked to us about these things until it reached critical mass. I won't have it. I love him to pieces.
3. I'm very, very behind at work and going in for 3 hours on Saturday didn't really help much with catching up. My boss continues with her antics of inappropriate boundaries, comments and such. I attended a meeting on my last day of vacation where she felt as though I hurled a personal affront toward her when I said that I thought we should have our management team retreat on more neutral territory (she had said we'd do it at her house). My newest and longest employed staff are not getting along after 3 weeks on the job. Yelling. I'm having to spend time facilitating therapy sessions, setting clear boundaries for behavior in the workplace and threatening swift and severe consequences for failure to be civil.
4. Wood and I have talked at length about "Sarah" and I think weP both have realized that she's a symbol or symptom of something bigger - mostly the fact that we have forgotten to be in a relationship with each other because we have focused so much on everyone else's needs. Talking openly has led to other openness, feeling much more connected and present with each other. Since I have only one true reader, I can also say that the talking and presence has very, VERY positively affected my libido. It hasn't been this steamy since we were a brand new couple.
5. Oh, the school auction. I often wish I hadn't signed up to help. My lofty goals of raising money have been usurped by the reality of working full-time, raising a busy, bounce kid and balancing those things against my own mental/physical/emotional health. It's okay - people on the committees get it. That gives me the space to be gentle on myself.
Happy Sunday. I'm off to the craft store, a birthday party, and a children's theater show today. Laundry and cleaning in between. I need to get on it now! The day's a wasting.
It was a pleasure to meet you this weekend at the conference. Wood has said great things about you and your work - that you are smart and energetic, someone that he is glad to be able to learn from in his professional life.
Perhaps we got off to a bad, if not odd, start. It certaily was strange to me, to be introduced to you and for your response to be that you were uncomfortable about our meeting. And why I pointedly asked "Really, why?" The statement got my hackles up and my gut queasy but I told myself it wasn't anything to think too much about.
However, that was not the only odd interaction between you, my husband and I over the weekend. If it were, I probably wouldn't be writing this letter. Try as I may, though, something about the way you interacted with my husband and me wasn't right. It was weird. It was all wrong.
It was like there was something very personal happening for you with regard to Wood - the way you avoided eye contact and any conversation with me, essentially being near my husband and leaving whenever I arrived said you were too comfortable with him and uncomfortable with us (him & me together, and just me) all at the same time.
Our final interaction at the luncheon - where you didn't say anything to me (granted I didn't use my assertiveness skills to say hello to you or anyone else at the table) and where I picked up an ever-so-slight glance Wood gave you upon my arrival to the table...combined with you not responding to my attempt to engage you in conversation during lunch...and a look you gave me...perhaps it was the slight cock of your head when after lunch we talked so briefly about how this was the celebration of our anniversary; this weekend because the actual weekend is full of family obligations (you mentioned sans child, so you know we are a family) - this combination of interactions sent up red flags and bells-a-ringing. I wanted to talk to you, to get to know you because of the good things Wood has said as well as the clear discomfort between us. It would have been good to have had some time to talk and get to know each other. There was time. You were disinterested.
Our meeting(s) has stirred up some latent and supremely powerful feelings - suspicion, contempt, jealousy, and fear - that my husband of nearly 10 years hasn't been faithful to me.
This letter is in part to tell you that these strange interactions have been a blessing in disguise. They pushed us to open our lines of communication, talk about the things that make our marriage worthwhile - the good, bad and indifferent - and that keep us together. It has reminded us of our need and DESIRE to BE TOGETHER. That is sometimes difficult to remember - the years definitely make us stronger but it takes a lot of work, too.
Sarah, you lifted a mirror up to me so that I could see my stuff. It's hefty. It's complicated and threatening. As scared as I was to ask and possibly get an answer I didn't want (or worse, get the answer I did want but didn't believe), I asked my husband whether anything inappropriate has ever happened between you and him "Did you ever touch her, dance with her, kiss her or otherwise do anything with her that I wouldn't want to see?" No. "Did she ever do anything to you that wouldn't be considered okay?" No. His email, text and phone history confirm that he hasn't had contact with you outside of conferences. I otherwise have no reason to distrust him. Besides, he really is the most loyal person I've ever known. To his detriment at times (that's another topic best left for another day). His commitment to me is clear - however, despite all of that I know that people are fallible, relationships are fragile, affairs happen and when they do it's rarely planned. I also know that people don't automatically tell the truth in these kinds of situations. I believe him when he says he has never been unfaithful to me but I'm also a realist.
This letter is also to tell you that I saw you, Sarah. Wood didn't, and probably doesn't see you in the same way. He's too proper and professional to say so, even if he did. I'm more like Rupaul who said "I always try to come from a place of love but sometimes you just have to break it down for a motherfucker."
Here's the breakdown: Make no mistake; I saw you and you have no claim to Wood. Intermittent professional contact is the extent of it. I saw you. Get my husband out of your head. Wood is off limits, always has been, always will be. I saw you and want you to know, if it isn't already abundantly clear, I will protect my marriage and family at all costs.
In time you will find someone. He'll be amazing because you clearly have good taste in men. If it can happen for me, it surely can happen for you.
Thanks for this, Sarah. It has been nearly cathartic. I do look forward to the opportunity to meet you again.
Sincerely,
L
There's a young woman, in her early 20's, that Wood has become friends with through his attendance at work conferences over the past couple of years. I got to meet Sarah this week. I have a bad feeling in my gut about her, and Wood.
She came up to us on the first night of the conference and said hello to Wood, a couple of other people and me. In doing so, she rolled up on him and grabbed his arm as if he was her date, smiling happily in the way Women Who Like Men do. I was immediately introduced and she was instantly uncomfortable, saying something to the effect of "Oh, wow, I feel uncomfortable now." Not "It's nice to meet you". My response was rather direct with "Oh, really, why?" As if to say quite clearly "What the fuck do you have to be uncomfortable for?" She chatted for a few minutes and walked away.
Throughout the conference, which I participated in a fair amount, she was nearby Wood - until I was there. When she was hanging out with him and I was there, she essentially refused to interact with me. At the final luncheon, I was late, and when I arrived, there they were, sitting next to each other. She didn't look at me, didn't say hello and left the table as soon as she could.
I'm fuming angry because dancing and other traveling events where Wood wasn't available are talking to me. Granted, I'm feeling bad about myself. I've been cheated on. And I'm coming up on my 10 year wedding anniversary, thinking that my husband has fooled around with a conference buddy.
What's wrong with me?
Sans kid, we are celebrating 10 years of marriage in the opposite setting that we celebrated our union... our honeymoon was spent in a low end, $40/night room in the southern part of Costa Rica. Maybe it says something about where we are in our lives now...10 years later we're in glitzy, glamorous, opulent Las Vegas, baby!
Wood has a conference this week and I'm tagging along because I've never been to Las Vegas before. Since I'm working on the auction and that event is the weekend of our actual anniversary, we're celebrating early.
We rented a car today and took a ride out to Hoover Dam, walked and drove the strip, took a bath in the jacuzzi tub, and finished off with a lovely dinner at Bouchon (Cork in French). We ate so much that we didn't have room for dessert.
Hoover Dam was simply amazing and makes me think that it is a glaring example of what makes the United States a great place. It was built in a time when we took great risks and did amazing things.
Las Vegas, the strip in particular, is a glaring example of what is wrong with our country, culture, world. What is it that has us (the proverbial us, Wood and I aren't drinking that Cool Aid) believing that "this" is living?
Speaking of living, we want the next 10 to be full of laughter, family and friends. Work hard work, play harder.
The next few days Wood will be working and I'll be mostly on my own. There are few things on my list - exercise and reading. Whatever else happens, happens. I'm glad to be celebrating 10 years. Sometimes I feel like a fraud of a wife.
Twig has been sick since Tuesday. He woke up, told us about his White Sash promotion the night before and promptly told me he thought he had a fever. Fifteen minutes later it was 100 degrees and climbing. It stayed with him off-and-on until Wednesday night and finally turned into sniffling. He's still down.
Wood was sick last week, following Twig being out for three days. Same deal - headache, fever, no appetite. Somehow I didn't get it.
Until today.
Well, starting yesterday my throat was a bit odd and in the evening my asthma flared pretty fiercely. It was tough to fall asleep because of the albuterol treatment and once I woke this morning, I couldn't move. By 10am I had a fever of close to 101 and was crying about it in the doctors office. Fever makes me completely incapacitated.
I've got my codeine cough syrup and my tamiflu and my layers of clothes to keep me warm. Twig has Netflix to keep him occupied. Please let Wood be free from this! We have Las Vegas nest week.
Crooked Nose Tom was hurt. My inability to be available to him at one moment in time was such a personal affront that he never spoke to me again. It is a pain that I still carry - he didn't come to my wedding, he never met his grandson, he died much too young. On the other hand, he left me his baby sister, Shirl, and she visited us last weekend.
It was such a lovely visit, too! She came in on Friday and we had a couple of hours to chat. We spent much of the weekend eating and chatting about her daughter and grandkids, how such similarities exist between the kids.
There is a feeling of belonging when she is near. It makes me glad that we are family. I love that she is willing to be here, spending time doing monotonous daily activities, and that she enjoys it. She is easy to be with and I love her to pieces.
Yes, I've been quiet. But In the best kind of way!
I really like my Nice Lady. Except that her fees are out of pocket and it has caused a discussion about money, that is.
I met my friends from Cali in Ashland last weekend. And visited my Uncle and Aunt who live there, too. It was luxurious, calming, quiet and oh-so-good for my soul.
Work is work...but there are tough issues being discussed, decisions being made, and opportunities for personal and professional growth and development being provided. It's still a love hate thing but it pays the bills. It's stressful but palatable and that's enough right now. I've also applied for jobs periodically. Not feeling 100% trapped helps.
The auction is 7 weeks away. I can't wait till it's over. My friend seems to be okay with what I've been able to contribute - as little as it is. I'm also doing my best to forgive myself for not having done more, given more. For being human! No, I won't do this again.
Wood and I are not struggling as much as we were. As much as I was. He is processing tough stuff, too. We are on a similar path. I have admitted to myself and to him my mistakes - that I have not allowed him to be my partner as much as I should have. That I have become Bam and without even realizing it, set him up to play out the same play from my childhood. We can make this whatever we want it to be. We will make it good!
Twig is struggling in school -socially and academically- and we have agreed that he needs fewer extra curricular "fun", more academics, and that the current school set up isn't working. We will very take him out of choir and that will lessen many burdens. He's currently got martial arts 5 days each week, acting every Saturday, and choir on Thursday. The spring performance schedule is off the hook. We will think about and explore school problems and solutions more.
My aunt from my dad's side is coming to visit this weekend and I'm so excited! Last she was here was 2 years ago - when here was there. It will be fun.
It's now time for sleep! So that I can prepare for the continued busy-ness.
In typical fashion, my boss reneged on the plan we made last night. While I wholeheartedly agree with the reasoning, the underlying issue still remains: the process is not authentic, she cannot be trusted, she's wishy-washy.
Skepticism is a Virtue.
I asked if I was being disrespectful or rude in my communications. If my messages weren't okay. That expressing any of it was in no way shop or form comfortable. I continue to be present in my Truth, communicating the error of her ways, explaining that "feeling heard" isn't enough. There needs to be action, too. She doesn't get it.
Since I've been pushing all manner of comfort zones, I attended a women's business networking group tonight. Met several people, talked business, pushed the school auction. I've not been doing as much for that as I should. But whatever. At one point in the evening, I swear I had a hot flash. It was probably being overwhelmed with all of the stretching I'd done today. Hell this month.
It's way past my bed time. And clearly I need my energy for tomorrow.
Strangely, my office move didn't go to the Management Team Meeting to die. Even more strangely, there was open, honest talk at today's meeting. Off the charts amazing was the plan that we developed for dealing with the shit culture of the agency in a proactive, thoughtful, change oriented way. That I get to facilitate.
Of course, my inner critic still isn't quite sure that this is really happening or that what I've said won't bite me in the ass come tomorrow. I always have the feeling I'm going to be fired at any moment. Guilt for working below my capacity, I suppose.
In my truth I was respectful and very honest at the same time. Fuck anyone that says otherwise. I'm still afraid of being fired. And, while I'm committed to what I'm doing now - even working on goals moving forward, I'm still looking for another job.
I don't trust that my boss gets "it" or understands. She obviously understands something or she wouldn't be where she is. At the same time she's so malleable that she's a bit like silly putty. We end up being told that if we want something badly enough we should take it on and make it happen.
Yippeekayayymuthafucka.
PMS must be settling in. I can't get passed the feeling of dread for Monday. Got out of pajamas at 2 this afternoon. I waited so to avoid getting undressed in the cold, and because I can't seem to shake the 'I hate my body' blues.
Clearing off my dresser was freeing - it took all if 5 minutes to put everything away. Hanging out with Twig and doing MadScience with him was fun. He was at his best when we were working together on mixing, measuring, and pouring potions. He listened. I taught. Wood rocked out with headphones and worked, yelling if Twig came anywhere near him.
I thought it would be fun to go to a kids karaoke event. Wood is anti. Says its money related. It doesn't matter, I guess, that it could have been fun for Twig. Wood was anti playdate at our house yesterday, too. So, this afternoon, we'll take Wood's bike in, visit Wood's mom, and do what Wood wants.
At least that's how it feels. He newest iteration is that he's going to head to the park for a bit and I'm going to get some retail therapy. Somehow money for fat clothes is okay. Family entertaining less so.
I had this crazy idea recently about eggs. We go through so many of them, about a dozen each week, and I save the cartons (along with toilet paper rolls, corks, etc.) for the school art teacher. The empties are currently stacked about 8 high on top of my fridge. When I saw this pile of empties the other day it occurred to me that saving the carton alone was kinda wasteful - I should be saving the shells, too! You know, blow the egg out of a hole so the egg can be decorated.
I had this vision of taking egg shells, fully intact to school, in their cartons, for the kids to make fragile ornaments, Faberge style creations, or the like. I felt so proud. The art teacher, surprised and impressed.
So, we had breakfast for dinner last night. Chorizo and eggs.
I began with a pin sized hole on both ends of the egg as the onions sauteed in olive oil. Blowed gently. Blowed harder. Blowed to no avail. The egg shells were so flimsy they broke.
After two eggs, I quit. The onions were quite translucent, it was closing in on 7pm (which is way too late for dinner in the first place), and the egg whites, a bit on my hands, a bit in my mouth, was kinda grossing me out a bit.
As I finished the egg blowing, a cough came on...
It was the kind of cough that is unexpected, from something that is unexpectedly there. Lodged in a space you can't quite remember ever having noticed before. And it suddenly was there, making me gag (could this be a teeny tiny egg shell?) - quite intensely, too.
Hack-gag-cough!
Whoa, what was that? My leg is soaking wet! And a chunk of something that is absolutely NOT an egg shell simultaneously came out of my throat.
Eww...Um...Eww...Oh, my...
Yes, I pissed myself.
Who knows how to turn off the chatter that happens in their head? Sometimes, there is absolutely nothing I can do to turn it off. It's mildly obsessive, this line of thinking, and I hate that it has me awake tonight.
It is an office move that has me frustrated. I initiated this move, one staff person is unhappy about it. My boss has approved it. As I work out the details of it with another staff person today, it seems as though it is all humming along. And then I get an email from said 'another staff person' with my boss as the only other recipient on it that we have to discuss this potential move, the impact on those involved, and blah, blah, blah at a management team meeting.
I don't mind discussing at a management team meeting except that these meetings are generally the place where things go to die. AND this "Team" has NEVER made such decisions in the past. My boss doesn't even know what the "Team" does.
I hate my job. Not my work. Not the people, per se. But I hate it THERE (in truth I've hated it there since day one)! My boss can't make a decision and stick with it to save her life. Nobody talks honestly about anything, everybody talks behind each others' back, and decisions aren't decisions - they are reactions.
These are all qualities I earnestly work to avoid as they are short sided, poorly constructed decisions that serve only individuals in the short term. So, I find myself infuriated on a regular basis by the behavior. It can't be changed, can't be cajoled, can't be persuaded by logic. Say yes then think.
What has me awake and thinking is that this "Team Meeting" will be the forum that I'm told this can't be done after all. This is how my boss gets away with not really saying no, even though the decision has been broadcast to the entire staff as something that will be happening. She'll couch it in finances, disruption, or some other bullshit. And again, I'll have been undermined and made further ineffectual in my capacity as "Program Director".
I'm already angry - I can't be sure exactly how this will play out but this is just another iteration of the process (that isn't really a process) there. What I'm really struggling with is how to let it go and not let it bother me. The decision, the change, the new decision. The bullshit.
My boss told me a few months back that I was being rude, disrespectful, and an obstructionist; we were discussing a similar issue of how to get enough people the places, tools and spaces they need to do the work. I didn't want to drop the issue and pressed her to answer the question of how I was to do what she asks of me without the people I ask to do the work having the tools they need to do the job. Apparently, since we don't have the money to make such changes, we shouldn't even talk about how we might address them. Total. Waste. Of. Time.
Hey, I heard her loud and clear when she dropped this on me, having never ever mentioned it before. She was probably right, though. I am angry that people don't see it my way, that I don't play the manipulation game better, that I thrive in a structured environments where expectations and boundaries are clear. I have to be a lemming to make it there and a lemming I am not. I am close to completely giving up because I am not able to shine. In this place I must... Think not. Ask not. Care not. Except when it's my boss's idea.
Now I need to figure out how to turn off the chatter in my head because it is impossible. Become one with that reality. Learn to seem like a lemming. Make a plan and respectfully, honorably move on.
Many triggers lately have me feeling so very vulnerable. With such limited time for reflection, thought and planning, I'm very overwhelmed by what lies ahead. Not stymied, not necessarily afraid, maybe those things and more, but definitely overwhelmed.
Wood's tendency to explode and be mean, particularly toward Twig, when he's angry and overwhelmed were excessive for me this weekend. I feel like an 8 year old and a grown woman at the same time, protecting my child, negotiating for myself, parenting everyone. Paralyzed by memories that are 35 years old and simultaneously being played out in my livingroom.
A wonderful healer friend and I chatted for a long time today. She coaches people, does body work, and, in terms of much of her life, has a similar story to mine. Our visits are always cathartic and today was no exception.
I, bravely but not so fearlessly, expressed to Wood my unwillingness to continue along this path we've been traveling. Wood said he "felt like you are telling me something big". I was. That the vision I had is not the vision I'm living and the two visions must get closer together. I told him much more subtly than here that I can not continue like this.
He asked if I was saying that I don't want to be with him anymore. "Absolutely the opposite." I want to be with him with all of my heart, just not in the way we have often been, particularly as a family unit - angry, blaming, hurt, reactionary - unhappily and as if we don't like each other more often that not.
He became martyr-ish, like he often does, so at that point I ended the conversation. Not productive. Not interested. In the end I expressed that if he so desires, he might consider taking care of himself and looking at what happens for him in times of parenting/marital stress - because he wants to do so for himself, not just because I'm asking him to join me on this journey.
My eyes are almost swollen shut from all of the crying. I'm an emotional mess because I am afraid of where this will lead us. Hopefully, as we approach our 10 year wedding anniversary (and my desire to have a vow-renewal ceremony in the spring), someplace of connectedness and aligned vision/focus/direction for the next 10 years.
My commitment to my family is strong. However, I refuse to get lost in that commitment. We have some Big work to do.
Another year, Gone.
As quickly as it has gone, I would like to say: Dear 2012, please let me hold the door as you find your way out. Goodbye and a little bit of good-riddance to you, too. You weren't my favorite year to date. Nor were you the worst so far.
May 2013 bring with it clarity, direction, and growth. A use for New Years resolutions, the focus keep them for longer than a day and wherewithal to meet them in the end.
May our suffering be manageable, not overwhelming, and only fleeting in this lifetime. May travel be our newest vice, compassion and love our guiding light. Strength to live in Truth our greatest ally.
The here and now are all we have, may we always make it worth our while.
Who authorized return from vacation on Christmas Eve? Not me.
Despite being mad, okay, really mad, and a by resentfugl that Wood would show up only moments before it all came together to take all the credit for all of my hard work, it turned out I was more glad he was home than upset he had been gone and all the work his absence (the week before Christmas) required of me.
I think that the holiday actually helped us with what is usually a difficult transition - back to family unit. Because he had checked out for a week he was then relaxed, happy, and attentive. The holiday meant that we didn't have to fall immediately back into the usual school and work routines and that's always nice.
I have approached life from a rather numb state lately, not engaging like usual. Wood noticed it and asked what was/is going on with me. I blurted out "I saw a Nice Lady" when Twig wasn't around and couldn't hear what we were talking about. You know, my perception of reality is so skewed lately that timelines aren't working quite right. I'm going to call 'Creative License' here and say the two incidents were separate. He was very pleased that I'd done so. Until he heard about the cost/no insurance issue. But he understands, too, how ease of use and coordinated care are monumentally important right now. If its really an issue, I'll get a referral to someone who does accept insurance when the time is right.
We have talked a fair amount and I feel heard. About both my psychosis and real things. The only thing that has shifted, really - at least I think, is my approach.
Maybe not, however. Wood has always been there for me. I didn't realize how much I depend on him to keep me focused. How much more solid and capable I feel when he's around. How committed to my marriage and family I am.
We three are a team. The most important team I've ever been on. It's beyond comforting.
The Nice Lady is part of the Child Psychologists office. She's working on her licensure so clinical hours are not billable on insurance but the cash rate is comparable to the co-pay that we'd pay. Her background is helping moms with postpartum depression, bonding, past trauma and the like.
I like her energy. A lot.
Granted it's her job... she was nonplussed by the fact that I didn't complete the intake form completely. She asked the questions on the form and as painful as it was, I was honest. Depressed? Check. Tearful? Check. Sleeping problems? Check. Anxious? Check. Lethargic? Check.
When I put it all together, say it out loud, re-read these entries, and reflect on my recent conversations with the kid doc, it's all so clear. My state of mind makes sense.
It's not just Crunch Time. I'm in crisis. Full blown close to completely losing it. And I didn't get the extent of it until now.
What are my goals, she asked. To learn how NOT to cry at work, to process out loud, and to develop some self-care skills that I'm able to maintain consistently, even when things get rough.
It hurts like hell. But I know I'll get through this.
In the archives of this blog, I believe there's a post entitled "First Love". It's the story of a young girl who is belittled by her lover in a most cruel and abusive way. She finds her inner strength and in the end, leaves permanently.
Fast forward 24 years.
She sits in the doctors office and listens to him say "Moms whose boys hit them almost always have something, abuse or trauma that is underneath."
She recalls and retells the story. How she heard his mother being abused. And until today, didn't get that NOT leaving at that very moment was because she had heard her mother being abused.
She is still learning to not be abused.
It hurts.
Came on with a vengeance tonight.
It wasn't long after I noticed the yucky feeling creep into my chest, the one where I feel badly, and also noticed that I've been feeling that bad, tuck feeling many times each day. And I don't like it.
So I cried.
There is a lot to cry for lately. It is okay to feel things for people I have never met. To mourn the tragedy and loss of others. To feel loss Some whose story I know, others I don't.
I want to curl up, go away, check out. I'll just cry.
Really, people, the collective "We" don't have a gun control problem or a mental health problem, per se. Those are important issues but it so much bigger than that! We have a social problem wherein people have been conditioned to think as little as possible and as a result, believe that they should have whatever they want whenever they want it and if they don't get it can and should act upon their feelings without consequence. I am sad for the horror inflicted upon innocents (and those that aren't innocent) - horrors that don't make it to the news daily and that can conveniently be ignored by those of us who choose to do so. The existence or absence of religion isn't responsible. Guns aren't responsible, mental illness is not responsible, poor parenting isn't responsible. ALL OF US ARE. In our unwillingness to hear other points of view or compromise for the good of ALL people, we are all culpable. And it will eventually ruin each and every one of us.
Wood sets his alarm for 5am. Every day.
Every day, the alarm starts its soothing song off oh-so-quietly as and, save maybe one day in 10, I'm wide awake before he begins to stir enough to respond.
I don't really mind being awake at 5am. Not being able to fall back to sleep is bothersome. Actually, this dance has been hard for me for some time. When I'm having bouts of insomnia, or when the kid is sick or over tired and in bed with us it's stressful for me.
I asked this morning... Why do you set your alarm so early and not get out of bed? I decide if I'm going to get up when I hear the alarm. And sometimes I do get up... But usually, you just wake me up... Yep... Que snoring or loud breathing.
He recently asked me what I want for Christmas and I told him 'days-of-the-week underpants'. What I really want is for him to get out of bed when the alarm goes off so I can go back to sleep.
Ha!
A colleague today, while chatting with a client, mentioned some agency business including heir disdain for another colleague. How the other person was hated and spoiled. Flabbergasted, I decided to be the whistleblower, to report the issue. It's not the first time that inappropriate things have been said to visitors to the office and while everyone is entitled to their opinion, it should never be said to a client. I have to confront the person tomorrow, to give respect to my fellow co-worker and take ownership for it. Of course, I'm having whstleblowers-buyers remorse. Add that to a whole lotsa angst about being really super far behind in my work, my favorite employee giving notice, and still wanting to work elsewhere with few options for doing so.
We are in the thick of Twigs performance schedule. Rehearsal here, show there. Cancel this, get to that. Run, run, run. We continue to work on his brat attitude with the assistance of a great child psychologist who somehow calls all of us out on our stuff and coaches us toward where we need to be with such ease it's amazing. The homework isn't as simple. I'm tired and stressed.
My body and I are at odds with one another. Extra weight from inactivity isn't feeling good at all and I've given myself permission to be lazy. It's too much to force myself to be so good all the time. One green smootihe each day is my current goal. So far I'm about 9 for 10. Those are good stats in my world.
My new OB/GYN office and I are becoming quite familiar with one another. I've now met two of the doctors in the practice and unfortunately, am certain that I'll meet one of these two again in the nearish future. My lady problems aren't clearing up with traditional treatments so the Gyn#2 suggested, after completing a culture to be sent off to the lab, a biopsy of the area that won't heal. My inner teenage slut burst into tears at the thought of such a procedure and the doctor relented, almost immediately. We agreed that if another month passes unhealed then I'll do the biopsy. A reprieve.
There is more, I'm sure, to report but it isn't forthcoming at the moment. These three things are the most stressful right now. I'm often overwhelmed but try to remember that everything will pass and then get to the next most important thing on my list. And, despite the potential mild-laxative effects of doing so, eat a lot of gum. A lot!
My staff have been sick. I am pretty sure despite my excessive intake of vitamin c, I'm getting something, too.
We moved a mouse with us. In my infinite wisdom I snatched a couple of more traps from the old place and set them up in the new place. Okay, the mouse poop after a couple of days in the new place tipped me off. The little bastard is dead now. I'll keep up the vigilance to be safe. Ugh.
The boy starts to get busy this week with performances. Two on Saturday, one on Sunday, several during the week through the last week of December. Singing plus acting and martial arts (even if it is the after school program) is too much.
My sleep has been good. This morning was an anomaly - the pitter patter of rain woke me at about 4 or so. My dreams of joyfully and contentedly working as a retail clerk at Fred Meyer and my busy thoughts about our holiday gift program that is woefully underfunded and fraught with structural troubles kept me up.
My health is tenuous - the cold and the lady troubles are tiresome as is work and our extra curricular activities. Friday is my savior because I'll get at least a minute to clean the house and relax.
Until we moved, I was sure that my sleep problems were all about me. Peri-menopause, stress, anxiety, any number of things. Since we moved, however, I have come to realize that the energy at the other place was simply flawed, wrong, not conducive to sleep. The two together were a recipe for exhaustion.
At 3003 I've slept soundly just about every night. The first few days, maybe a week, I couldn't get enough - 12+ hours some nights. Now, about 3 weeks in, it seems like sleep is the new normal.
Amazingly, I have felt more clarity, albeit a very little bit, to not only see what is lacking or needed, but to actually devise a thought about how to deal with it, change it, make it better. It could be that Mercury has gone direct in the past few days... Whatever, I'm feeling and sensing things differently than I have in a while.
The sense of hope is comforting.
I have some catch-up work to do - for me. My body, my mind, my soul is in need. In need of something different.
You manifest that which you think and give energy to. I have lately been spending time on the wrong things and then I notice that panicky feeling. It just occurred to me while writing this. It is time to notice that which makes me uncomfortable so that I can change it - panic and its relatives do not serve my higher calling.
The boy begins performances this week and I'm glad. The hour or so waiting, if I can force myself to stay in the car as opposed to watching, can be exclusively "me" time. I miss me. Me looks forward to some alone time with our thoughts.
Things have been culled, paired down, reorganized. It is lighter now. It is time. Me.
This move has been painfully slow. While there were definitely some off days, we've been at it for almost 12 days now.
Wood checked out about a week ago. His back has been bothering him something feirce since the biggest push took place that first Friday. Even after the yard sale we had tons of stuff left over. I gave oodles of it to the art teacher, I offered it up for free to anyone who would listen (although, Bam was the real pusher of goods, asking people over and over again if they'd take the damned fish tank), to no avail.
Thank goodness I asked for help from a colleague's boyfriend who works evenings - both for that first day and yesterday. He and Wood did the heavy lifting oh, so-long ago and Boyfriend and two of his young-buck friends got the rest out last night.
I tried so hard to get a local agency to pick up the leftovers, an agency that isn't Goodwill, isn't Salvation Army. I tried with an email and a phone call but they were completely unresponsive. Frustrating as all get out, I tell you! 1. I wanted to do a good thing and 2. It is an agency I come into contact with at work. In the end it was donated and I have my tax deduction receipt, which was the goal. I now know - for next time.
I'm overflowing with thankfulness for the help of Boyfriend and his friends (and Bam, she leaves super early in the morning and we didn't get a lot of down time...I was quite annoyed with her. Can you say PMS? And we didn't really get to the crocheting lesson I specifically asked for. Oh, well.) - all that is left is the fish tank and sewing machine stand, and a plant. Of course, there is a little bit of cleaning that needs to be done. But I stress the little bit. My mom rocked the cleaning part! She was a lifesaver again, I tell you.
We should be out of there a day early. It's so close I can taste it.
So tired at the end of the day that bed time has been insanely early. As in 7pm. I can't function in the early evening so I just climb into bed and fall fast asleep.
Until about 3am. But I'll do a few things and in another 30 minutes or so, go back to sleep until about 7.
There are plenty of reasons to be so beat... Moving, medicine, my female cycle and the new moon. Stress and too many things on my plate...
Ok, just thinking about all of that stuff, I'm tired again.
The move to our new house is, for all intents and purposes, done. We spent all of Friday, part of Saturday and a lot of Monday schlepping our stuff from one place to the other. Of course, we still have to sell or donate all of the stuff we left behind but it will happen, there is an overlap of the two places for a reason!
I have this to say about the new place: I LOVE it!
You know how when the universe has aligned the stars for you, thing(s) work out as they should and you feel good? That's how I feel now. Since grandma move out it feels as though things are settling, we are able to do what we want (and need) to do, as if things are right and we are finally home again. I haven't felt comfort like, nor the energy to care for myself much, since the move to Portland. Ah, the shift.
We move today. We aren't at all prepared. We collected some boxes and I started to cull through stuff but don't have as much time as I'd like between work, Twig, the school auction and the limited amount of sleep that I do get. I took yesterday off to pack and prepare but I got completely derailed by an auction meeting, a doctor appointment, boychoir, and work.
Speaking of the doctor... A new ob/gyn since we moved to he lovely state of Oregon. My first visit, of course, on an urgent basis. Turns out I've got excema and exceptionally mild but likely chronic yeast in me nether regions. When I say the words, not for internet consumption, I can't do so without laughing. It sounds funny, sure. It hurts like a bee-atch! With some heavy duty cortisone type cream and 6 weeks of diflucan (okay, okay, and some dietary and exercise changes), I'll be good as new in nothing flat. Sorry for the TMI, but hey, this isn't exactly Facebook. But it may go to why I feel generally like Crap these days - headaches, hair falling out like mad, pimples (Huh? I'm in my mid 40's), achy, tired, etc.
So, Twig is frightened of the move (everything, really these days) so my goal will be to get his room completely set up before he comes home tonight. Other than that, my only plan is to have the guys move the heavy stuff. The rest can be moved one car load at a time - we don't have to be out of here until the 21st and my mom will be here for the next 10 days. Thank goodness!
Okay, its 6 am. I feel like I need to get moving. Can't imagine why.
We move in nine days. I am excited for this new phase partly because of the mouse issue we are experiencing and because we will be purging a bunch of stuff in the process. Oh, and Bam is headed up for a visit, too. She's always such a big help in times like these.
I'm kind of cranky today. Turns out I have such little energy to do the stuff that needs to be done and I find myself doing everything but what needs to be done when I am doing something. Right now is a perfect example. I should be working but I'm in the bathroom (doing real business) and blogging.
I'm taking 3 days off of work for the move and I can't wait!
We had our first full weekend of being normal this weekend. It wasn't really normal given that Wood was out of town but we didn't have an appointment at 10am Saturday and we weren't bound by grandmas needs. It was nice, especially since Twig had an impromptu sleepover and I was able to behave like an adult in my own home. Weird. Luxurious. We're falling into our own lives again quite easily and that is good.
I won't miss my upstairs neighbors moaning and groaning, his middle of the night antics, and the generally difficult-to-share-common walls stuff that comes up in multiple unit buildings.
I will also not miss having to gather utilities money from the two neighbors and having to berate the landlord to fix water leaks, ant or mice problems. And find dead mice in my kitchen anyway.
The owners of the new place clearly care about their property and the exterior is clean (!). The interior is just fine and although there are some very minor uglies (stained linoleum), the place will be great. I sure hope the new kitchen counter material they're installing is nice and that the upstairs neighbors and their two year old don't dance and sing too loudly at times of the day that doesn't work for us. I hope that the new apartment building that's soon to be under construction doesn't ruin the parking set up in the neighborhood too badly.
I hope the move goes fast and easy and that my body doesn't retaliate too much.
I'm sort of excited for the change. It's kinda like a fresh start. We need that.
Would be the house number. If all goes as planned, we'll have yet another apartment. Not as close to school but close enough and the price is really right. Plus it's just enough space for us. And since I've been telling Wood for months that unloading e v e r y t h i n g is a good idea and he's called my bluff, it is also a chance to go really minimalist. I mean open the door and sell all of it. Except the absolute necessities. It sounds so light and lovely. Definitely another resart. We shall see.
Went to sleep late, woke up early. Completely unencumbered, alone in the house with my husband (Twig is on a sleepover), the new-normal quiet is going to take a minute to get used to.
I'm excited about the prospect of future early mornings - gym visits a few days a week. Once Wood gets back from his upcoming work travels anyway. Not sure I can sneak in a workout during the day. It always takes longer than I expect it to.
Maybe I'll get my true early morning get up and go body back once the workouts begin. I'm hoping that exercise is the magic bullet.
Grandma has moved into her new place. It was the fastest move I've ever done. Really, 3 hours from beginning to end - packing plus a break for coffee and pie, transportation, unpacking and hanging pictures.
Funny that someone's life can be distilled into one little room and contained on a piece of paper. One piece of paper. Maybe ironic is a better choice of words.
I cried several times today. My emotions are quite palpable lately. For no reason that I can name, I was overwhelmed with emotion and couldn't hold back the tears. I swear I'm having perimenopause because I feel so out of control - euphoric to psychotic in seconds and for no reason.
Alzheimer's disease is cruel. And with all of the deterioration painful. It makes me question so many things about our world, our environment, our morals and ethics as a society and as individuals. Why, for instance, do we slow down the progression of the disease when it is so debilitating, so unlikely that there is much that the person can contribute? Is contribution all that matters? What is the point?
I hate that my mother in law is sick with this disease. That she is suffering in this way. That I didn't get to know her before she was sick. That not knowing, and her not telling, made it seem as though we were at odds with one another. That she lived with us. That she no longer lives with us. That I wasn't as good as other people are at caring for others. That Twig and she, that Wood and me are all feeling a loss. That we know nothing more than we did this morning about what the rest of her life will be.
On the other hand, we have regained some flexibility in our lives. I'll be able to get to work on time. We won't have to rush home after work. Weekends can be spent as a threesome instead of two dueces - dividing and conquering everything. More flexibility in where we go, how long we spend there. No administration of meds, no caregiver in my house (although she was a godsend and I never minded her being there), no more hiding the toilet paper so grandma wouldn't over use, leave bits behind and get bladder infections. No more of the day to day responsibility - but continued obligation. That never goes away.
I care deeply for her and want only the best for her. I wish for her peace, tranquility, and a death (I'm feeling callous for even saying that - she could live for 10 years or more...) that is speedy and pain free. Until then I want her to be happy with her new family/caretakers. They are good people.
Have I mentioned lately that being a grown up is kind of crappy? I kind of would rather be 8 years old.
I'd like to think that I hear noises around me and that's what wake me but the truth is what I hear probably happens only in my head. Something arouses me and the brain starts moving and soon enough is working overtime.
I was dreaming, about something decent, when I was suddenly wide awake at 2am this morning. The voices in my head are questioning many of my moves - past and future - and it is disconcerting.
Working on this fundraiser is like a massive group project in college...there are helpers and hinderers and all this togetherness with people I haven't chosen is leaving me feeling like I'm a) not doing enough b) doing what I am doing incorrectly c) not liked by the people I'm working closely with d) being purposefully left out of the loop e) not doing a good job. Or everything, then some, all mashed up at the same time.
My confidence is feeling quite fragile - probably because I'm slightly out of my element - and its taking a lot of energy to keep myself in check. I'm trying to remember that my skill set is mine and I shouldn't be apologetic (with myself or others) for what I'm good at; I should embrace what I'm good at, present it as so and take whatever lumps come my way. There are always lumps. They're just hidden from plain sight so I don't always know about them. Or maybe I need to cool it - no lumps, no feeling badly, just work. Git'er done.
I don't know; tired now and need to get back to sleep. It's just that the house is quiet and dark and being awake now is almost like being alone. I miss being alone when I need to catch up with myself and tame the chatter.
Over dumb stuff.
I hold it in, my frustration with Woods dealing with his frustration. It feels lime his anger is directed at us. I ignore, redirect, ask questions. All efforts are ignored. Then I get mad and open up. It makes him mad, which makes me more mad. And so the cycle goes. Blame, blame, blame.
What can I do to talk and not make him angrier? Even he doesn't know. What can he do to make me feel less ignored? Pay attention to and acknowledge his feelings before making us feel the way he does.
Ugh. I knew this early on and chose him anyway. Truth is, it was something I was aware that would be hard for me. I didn't realize how hard, particularly at times like these.
She's constantly grinding her teeth. Or smacking her gums. For no apparent reason. And yes, at non-mealtimes.
It's one of those noise, habit thingies like when Bam wiggles her foot. You know that nervous foot wagging thing some people do? Makes me INSANE. This teeth business Grandma is doing is also making me crazy.
She's not doing it on purpose. When we ask her to stop, she doesn't. Actually, she can't. Nonetheless, crazymaking.
I'll call the doctor and ask about it. Apparently it's common for people with Alzheimers and sometimes exacerbated by certain meds, one of which she's taking.
Ugh.
My boy turned 8 last week (happy anniversary, Paula!) and I had some serious feelings about it. Lots of emotion and heavy tears for, well, I'm not sure exactly what - besides the overwhelming feelings I have for the child. Probably all of my hopes and dreams wrapped up in the promise that is him.
Grandma is moving to an adult foster home in a couple of weeks - we have gotten back on track because in reality it was never her choice to live with us any more than it was our choice to have her live with us. It was necessary and we did the right thing at the time. We all have some mixed feelings about the change. It seems like we just got used to her living with us. To our new place. She'll move. And we'll probably move too.
Lots on the horizon.
They've been too common lately.
Last week I as being followed as in stalked. Today Twig was taken and had his passport with him.
Both times the dreams lasted a fair amount of time and I processed a bit of the "problem". Not quite to the preferred conclusion.
I woke up afraid and now wonder about the deeper meanings.
There is one great thing about working for a Jewish organization and not being Jewish. Religious holidays.
Monday and Tuesday were days off in observance of Rosh Hashana (L'Shana Tova, Happy New Year!) and exquisite days off for me. Granted, all I did was catch up on the chores of life. But I did so with NO distractions.
Monday I mostly sat around (did a couple of loads of laundry and a bit of shopping) watching cooking tv. Tuesday I did all of the things I felt like I was neglecting on Monday while I sat on the couch. It was nice to be unencumbered for a bit.
Although, by the end of the day Tuesday I was feeling a bit lonely and was reminded that I don't want to be at home full time, a little more time at home alone would be welcomed. I need to plan 4 day weekends more often.
School is back in session and my support network, at least around the kid is in place again!
Boychoir started this week and he's pretty jazzed about singing.
Twig was invited to be in an acting troupe again and we signed him up for the whole year. That means now through Christmas is booked every Saturday except maybe for Thanksgiving weekend and starting right after Thanksgiving, every weeknight and weekend there's a performance. The same in the spring. But he loves it - and frankly I do too.
I signed on to be the co-chair of Twig's school's annual auction. It wasn't entirely the wine talking, either. It's part of my master plan to be an Executive Director in my next job. Doing this will give me fundraising experience that isn't currently on my resume. See, bigger purpose. And, yes, crazy.
We are looking at a house to potentially rent in the morning. It's 3 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms. Two doors away from us. It's also considerably cheaper than what we pay now. I hope it could work and can't stand the idea of moving. Plus we started looking at care homes for Grandma. After the $4500 base price was revealed, we realized that we might have to find a bigger house for more rent and hire somebody to live in and care for her. Her needs will change (increase) and her income won't. Somehow having Choir and acting and the auction to think about makes grandma's stuff easier to think about.
That's it. I woke up early full of energy and I'm tired again.
My back wakes me.
Pain keeps me up. The TV helps quiet my mind.
Sleepless nights make for a long and not super productive work day, that's for sure. It's kinda like being a new mom. Surprising what can be accomplished when exhausted.
Now to get a couple of z's in the hopes that they'll be enough to get me through the week.
Yawn.
The snarky, snotty comments.
Shitty tone.
Dirty looks.
Rude comments.
"Reaaaallyyyyy?"
Attitude for no reason.
Passive aggressive bullshit.
So I put it out there tonight. To Wood: What's wrong? You've been pissy and you're taking it out on me. I don't appreciate it.
To Twig: If you continue talking that way to me, and the facial mime is included in talking, the consequence is that I will not speak to you for an entire day. AN ENTIRE DAY.
To Wood: This is about you being mad and taking it out on me. This is about Twig talking to me VERY disrespectfully. AND I DON'T LIKE IT. I don't like the way YOU talk to me half the time. And I'm sick of it. Angry about it.
Taking a time out: Thinking about no dirty looks, no backhanded comments, no snark. Being straight forward, to the point, yelling because I'm angry.
Ugh!
Things have calmed down here at Chez Wonelle. Wood and I have, for the time being, had our talks and put aside our hurt and anger. Things are better in that regard.
My body, on the other hand is still pissed off, and letting me know it. My feet hurt so badly when I stand up that limping doesn't even help. And my lower back is periodically warning of a complete strike. I don't ever get used to the idea that I can't will things to be as I want them to be anymore.
Wood and I have agreed to stop drinking for a while. He's asked me to try to focus on more vegetarian meals. I've had so little energy that I've slacked in the food depatment and the effects are showing. I've been gaining weight. All of that self medicating adds up in the calorie department and on the scale.
We also have an appointment with a counselor. We are a great team and we know what to do (mostly) but just like championship sports teams, we need a coach. So there it is.
Healthy food to nourish the body. Help with the mind. We're in it to win it.
He came home drunk. Talking about how things are tough.
I was fuming and didn't let it go too easily. My jealousy, so foreign a feeling, reared its ugly head some more. I don't get his disappointment in her leaving. I also think he's taking things -all things- out on me. I'm not interested.
Once he passed out, I got up and stayed awake until the wee hours of the night. Did some work, watched tv, wondered what it was all about.
Woke up this morning to more apologies. I'm just not there. He stayed home sick today. I worked from home for a while in the morning. He asked for sex. I flatly refused. Gave him his dry toast as requested and said goodbye.
I'm still hurt. More than ever before in this relationship. He's got some work to do. Me, too.
One evening last week, Wood called me and chatted me up a bit. He asked how I was doing, how was my day - and I told him. I was stressed, behind in my work, and I'd had a headache for days. In the end, he said a friend of his from work was considering a job in Los Angeles who wanted his advice and said he wanted to hang out with her, could I get Twig from camp?
It was like a lightning strike, the overwhelming feeling of jealousy that overtook me. I wondered who was this woman who wanted his advice. Who was this woman that he wanted to give advice - and spend time with. But I didn't say anything about it. The truth was, I wasn't feeling well and I said so. He understood and decided to stay home.
The feelings continued - or at least the thoughts did - and I have spent the last couple of weeks thinking about why I felt jealous. It's not my normal way of being in my relationship, particularly with Wood.. Is it because he and I aren't able to spend time together? Because we have such serious issues we are dealing with? That because I wonder if someone else has something better to offer? That because I'm unhappy so he must be, too?
When I came home later than usual tonight, he was upset with me. He approached the discussion in a way that would seem that he was worried that I was putting in too much time. When I expressed that I thought he was trying to be supportive of me and ensure I am not overdoing things with regard to work, I explained that the reality is that when I go to work at 9:30 and leave for nearly an hour in the middle of the day, I must stay to get my work done. He barked at me and said that since I hold his feet to the fire, he was going to be my advocate.
Shortly thereafter, he tossed his phone onto the table in a fit of anger. When asked, he said that he was upset because his friend had decided to leave. After a bit more discussion, he said that they were "at the bar" and he was going to go. Again, that jealousy feeling. Again nothing said by me.
Twig was asking if he could go outside to play the trumpet, and got upset when I said no. Then Wood got upset at me for saying so. Then I wasn't listening to him and then he stormed out on me. And I'm mad. M A D. He was being a disrespectful asshole. I don't like him much right now. At all. And I want to tell him so.
There's a television advertisement that comes to mind a lot lately. You see people not smiling at their dog, alone and laying on the couch, and in both cases, looking very despondent. The refrain goes something like "depression hurts, xyz drug can help."
I've been thinking of this commercial a lot because it seems lately as though everything hurts. Everything. My shoulders are tight, lower back acts like its gonna give out at any time, I've got consistent headaches and stomach aches and my bum and the bottom of my feet hurt whenever I stand up. All I want to do is sleep. And if I can't sleep, I want to eat comfort food - potatoes, mac and cheese, burgers and fries, chocolate and caramel, or coffee.
I said in a recent post that I haven't felt like this since Twig was a baby and I had postpartum depression quite severely. It is true now, too. Except the postpartum piece, of course. (Ha!)
The part of this commercial coming to mind that is interesting to me is that I am noticing these symptoms for what I believe they are (I should see the doctor about the headaches -okay everything- just to be safe but I had a physical a couple of months ago and I got a mostly clean bill of health, save the fat cysts and spots on my skin that I need to have checked regularly. Ah to have no olive tones.). While I don't typically like anything advertising stands for, this commercial has been helpful in making my mind aware.
A friend, who is so lovely and wise and spiritual, recently noticed my sadness and reminded me that "it" doesn't have to be this way. The simple sentence in her text reminded me that I am an agent of change. That changing myself and others, systems, beliefs, this is my purpose on this earth.
She suggested that I map out what I want. With big sheets of butcher paper and colored pens, to write my story - to change the course, set my own stage with my own story, actors, ending(s) - to let the universe know my intentions. It will give me what I need and want - when it is the right time.
Knowing why I hurt is half of the battle. Being reminded that I am an agent of change and the maker of my destiny is part of the strategy. With the help of a television advertisement (and a great friend), now I can do get back to making change.
Turns out that confession is the best route to giving up on the junk food and crazy feelings of complete and utter self-loathing. Unfortunately, I had to confess to a number of people throughout the week to begin to feel normal again.
But it worked. That's all that matters, right?
The intriguing part of this story is that I was beating myself up for wanting to walk out on my family - my life actually, and that in those moments when I said it out loud, for fear that if I didn't speak Truthfully I really would leave - when I got to telling the person closest to me I learned that he feels the same time - often.
In my distress Wood was supportive and kind. I was rather a hot mess.
Over the weekend he let me sit on my lazy butt and do nothing. I say "let" because he didn't fight too much about what he needed to do in my absence. It's been tough but I've been forcing him more often to step up and take charge of things when I know I can't.
I'm not bingeing on junk food like I was last week. I'm not eating perfectly but I'm on a path toward better. The Boy and I went to the store today - he helped bag all of the groceries AND carry them to the car.
It's the little things that help me to feel whole.
The week has been full of emotional turmoil. The fantasy about walking out on my family was so intense - leading up to it and afterward - that I fell hard into old bad food habits - before and afterward - just to keep functioning.
Monday morning I spent nearly $25 on candy and junk food for the office. Twinkies, Ho-Ho's, peanut butter cups, Rolo's, and Milky Way's. Ugh. Just the act of seeing it in print makes my stomach flip-flop and my skin crawl. By Wednesday morning I'd eaten half of the Twinkies AND Ho-Ho's so I relinquished the rest to a colleague and asked that he require me to have a mini counseling session in order to get something from the box 'o junk food. Since this conversation was in front of several colleagues, I also said "save me from myself". They were given the green light to tease about how the box of junk food was organized by type of junk.
Another colleague walked up on the tail end of the conversation and looked at me as if she was sure I'd already gone mad. Which of course, I explained that I had, and then proceeded to confess that the candy was a futile attempt to stave off bad thoughts - sugar being my drug of choice - about the fantasy in which I walked away from my family with no regard for anything but my own mental health (gasp!). The confession happened to coincide with my office having lost power so I couldn't work anyway - although I kept 4 other people from working for several minutes - and as I explained, if I didn't say it out loud, I was quite certain that it would come to be that the family I worked so hard to have simply disintegrated because of my lack of clarity lately.
By Friday I had polished off an entire bag each of Rolo's and Milky Way. As one colleague, who wasn't privy to the confession on Wednesday morning, so aptly put it when she saw how I'd finished it all off: "you have a serious problem". I explained it was serious mental issues.
I am pretty clear that I've completely screwed my body. The headaches started before the candy but the candy certainly hasn't been making things better. And to think, a year ago I was eating Clean every day of the week. I was probably at the pinnacle of my healthful self then. Now I'm just a walking chemical.
Sugar has always been my go-to food in times of stress - since I was about 8 or so and could make my own bowls of cereal I piled it on. To the point that there were spoonfuls of gritty sugar at the bottom of each bowl. Apparently eating the stuff makes one feel good. I learned from the best - how to binge AND hide it in plain view. My mom would binge at dinner and purge while doing the dishes. At every meal, actually. I was taught only the binge part (thank goodness, I think.) but realize its not serving me well. My body doesn't feel good. I've got swelling feet and hands, arthritic fingers, poor sleep and digestion and roller coaster emotions. Granted I'm not sure if the roller coaster emotions are the chicken or the egg... but I know the food, which I have been really disregarding, is a sign.
I've not felt depression like this since Twig came into my life. Not only during my pregnancy with him but also during his first several years of life. Never before or since that time in my life have I craved chocolate and avocado, nor have I felt so out of control of my food consumption. Out of control, period.
Wrecked is how I feel right now. And as much as I know what I need to do...
That alien feeling in my chest...
I want to stay in bed, take a shower, sleep for days. This morning I fantasized about getting out of bed and leaving. Wood at work already; Twig and Grandma asleep still. No phone, no keys, no shoes or wallet. Just leaving. Walking, running, riding my bike - as fast as I could. Anywhere but here. Anywhere but these feelings.
If wearing the same pants for three days in a row, crying for no apparent good reason, tight painful shoulders, constant headaches, and a penchant only for coffee, twinkies (no joke), and chocolate is a sign - not to mention the running away fantasy - I need something.
Telling myself I can get through it helps only for a millisecond.
The alien is trying to take me over and I'm considering letting it do exactly that.
So, I had this phone interview on Monday. Pretty cool. I wasn't really nervous during the conversation, save the few times that I had zero word recall and kept bumbling when things wouldn't come out of my mouth.
It seemed that I gave a fair representation of myself - what's important to me, who I am and such. In retrospect, I could have sold myself a bit better, been a bit more polished, had clearer answers to the questions.
Interviews are such crappy tests. They don't really give credence to who people are in their day to day lives. Some people test well. Some people don't. It's not indicative of who people are - what they have done or can do.
I decided to send an email note to thank the interviewer for the time spent on me. Here's what it said:
"Thank you for talking with me about the ...(title)... position and ...(organization)... earlier this week. I sincerely appreciate your time and consideration, and look forward to the possibility of talking to you again in the near future."
Perfectly good email. Short, sweet and to the point. Respectful. I thought it was great. Stared at it for several minutes wondering if it was okay. I finally hit send and thought "Done".
It hit me about 15 minutes ago - the title of the email was "Tuesday Phone Interview".
The interview was on Monday.
Doh!
If I get a face to face interview, I'll be very surprised. Maybe the mistake won't be noticed. Maybe it won't be relevant - all other things being equal.
I'm trying to get to space cadet - que sera sera - and I'm not telling anyone but you.
There's this feeling just below the surface of my chest, kinda close to the heart that is tight, full, and feels like it's ready to climb out and consume everyone in sight. The consumption will be in an alien-esque way - kinda gross and definitely gory.
This weird combination animal is a combination of insecure, sad,overwhelmed, confused, and tired. It doesn't even know what it is. Lately it has been heavy and taking over a bit of my sunny disposition each day.
I need to slay this monster and right quick. Any thoughts?
What is it about an interview that can make my confidence plummet to levels not seen since my pre-pubescent years?
Perhaps it's the issue of being last on the field to be chosen. The fact that stumbling over your words is embarrassing. Or that moving on to the next adventure is in my play book - but not necessarily the universe's.
In the end being true to ones own self is monumentally important. I was true to myself today. If I get called to a face-to-face interview, I'll be pleased. If I don't, I'll be disappointed but aware that there are other lessons to learn now. I'll do my best to focus on the positives of the here and now. And learn the lessons I'm supposed to learn.
And remember that I'm pretty hot stuff.
My head has been bothering me all week. A bit dizzy here and there. Sometimes a headache. Congestion periodically.
Thursday whatever it was made it impossible to function so almost as soon as I got to work, I turned around and went home. Slept for several hours and felt better on Friday. Not normal but better.
This weekend the strange symptoms haven't subsided, even with pseudoephedrine, advil, and as of today, saline nasal rinse. I'm feeling tired and disinterested in the 587 chores that need doing. My attitude stinks - the work that I tried to complete took too long and was overly complicated - I got angry and had a bit of a tantrum. Not toward anyone, just a feeling of sheer frustration.
It's not allergies - the allergist said that allergy tests were all negative. That explains why the allergy meds aren't working. I'm probably just tired. Whatever.
Only you, Wood and the woman who will call me knows that I have a phone INTERVIEW Monday afternoon. Eeee!
As of yesterday, my boss probably has an idea that almost everyone in the office thinks she's leading the ship to sink. And as exciting a time as this could be (strategic planning), as long as she's at the helm, I think it's never going to be the right place for me. I want more opportunity and less Crap.
Monday may not pan out but that doesn't matter right now. There's hope.
I am:
-an incredibly bright shade of white - glow in the dark white according to Auntie Slam
-not a slave to fashion - I like what is comfortable and my sense of style is, well, all my own thank you very much
-prematurely grey - I had my first grey hair at age 16 and nope, I don't color my long, very silver hair
- the owner of a big, round, plump ass, size D breasts (that I used to feed my kid for 3 years)
- over age 40 and GLAD to be - I'm finally somewhat mature
- accepting of myself just the way I am
But every now and again, something happens and I become
- mildly annoyed by the young blonde, buxom, bronze twenty-something who looked at me with disgust and pity while grocery shopping
Little girl, you can kiss my big, fat, lilly-white ass. You don't know shit. And I say so because when I was 20-something I didn't know shit, either.
The business of being grown up is cut-throat hard core, I say.
The business of parenting, even tougher.
I refuse to apologize for being the parent in this household. Particularly when I do not make mistakes, when I am simply setting boundaries and sticking them. "Bad Mom" and "You are so mean" now glide off of me like water on a birds feather.
With the help of an amazing child psychologist who has the testosterone to whip my child into submission with a mere inflection of his voice, I will be the Alpha Mom. I am the Alpha Mom and my child now knows it.
I am bossy and in charge - I know this is something I must own in every fiber of my being. All the time.
"I Hate Dr. S, I will never go back! You can't make me!" is music to my ears. I know its scary to hear that things aren't okay the way they are, that I am the parent, the one in charge, and that you will lose some privileges and power in this exchange. In the end though, you'll be much happier for it my sweet child.
This is my issue (and in part, Wood's, too) - my personal experience with other people being physically aggressive toward me, taking my power, controlling me. I know it and I have been fighting, albeit quite silently, against fighting at home. In the end, it has made us fight more.
Demon fighting, still, I am. Difference now is, I've never been less afraid of the battle.
The privilege of being a grown up and a parent is on the line.
This week is turning out to be tougher than the last three combined. Work is off the hook busy with big projects and Twig is acting The Fool morning, noon and night.
Work is work is work. It feels manageable although there's too much. My newest staff person (acquired, not hired by me) may have finally gotten the point that she needs to buck up and play by my rules - for her own good - as I've been asked to take the reigns and direct the ship. More importantly, my boss is allowing me to be the Director lately and that is helpful. Autonomy is very appealing and when I have it, I produce amazing things.
Twig, on the other hand, is pushing Wood and me -mostly me- beyond our capacities. He's very often acting like an enraged and caged hippopotamus. He's overly angry when he doesn't get his way. Usually taking it out on me. Last night he charged me with his hula hoop because it was time to come in - and after being asked and ignoring me three times, lost his kung fu class. Tonight it was because he refused to eat his dinner and didn't get dessert as a result. For that I got punched in the chest.
BUT... he went to his room, came out and finished eating because he knows I mean business. He had his dessert. I didn't get an apology. But it's PENETRATING his brain! I have renewed faith. Last nights clarity that I did nothing wrong and would not feel guilty really helped!People have to make a million decisions every day. To get out of bed, what to wear, what to eat, which route to travel to the office, what to eat. Underneath each of those decisions is a kajillion other decisions that we don't even acknowledge that we make.
This knowledge may make some people feel comfortable. Apparently, I'm not some people. Okay, even I know I'm not some people. But, still, decisions are becoming freakishly hard for me to make.
Particularly when it comes to business at "home", I'm not confident. To sign the Property Management Agreement(s) or not? All that legal mumbo-jumbo is nerve wracking. Especially since we just got out of a very expensive legal mumbo-jumbo related to our home.
Wood says it's now a business transaction. No feelings.
Obviously, to sign the agreement. However, not without a LOT of angst.
Sad, full moon, mercury in retrograde hormonal fluctuations of the grandest proportions blues.
These last few days I have felt equally powerful and an utter failure to be all the things I swore I'd be when I was a kid: happy, not a mean parent, cool, hip, and awesome.
Yep. Only you know it. Oh, wait. I accidentally posted that on Facebook this morning. And outed my family in the process.
Going to bed now.
We're both feeling better this morning. Twig is still sleeping so his attitude is yet to be seen.
I get so many people expecting me to take on their feelings and fix situations at work, I'm beat when I get home and when my husband, his mother, and my child expect me to fix their problems, too, I kinda lose it. Truth is, I'm reaching my limit and it's showing.
Wood's probably past his. And it shows.
I'm boss, for sure, but I have to do a better job of taking responsibility for myself. And the people around me need to do the same. Wood knows it.
It's so tough to fight with the closest ally in your camp. I mean really, we're all tired, playing the same stupid games, and ultimately working toward the same goal. Right?
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