Archive for the ‘watch your back’ Category

I’ve been dealing with some internal crap lately.  Feeling like a permanent world class fuck-up, having nothing left of me, sundowning at 10am, feeling weighed down emotionally and physically.  I haven’t been able to do much. Just the basics like feeding my kids.

I haven’t even felt like writing. My Father’s day post was written weeks in advance when I was in a better frame of mind. If I had written that post on Sunday, it would have read very differently.

How?

First of all I wasn’t home to write it. I gave Tom what I would have like to have as a gift. A day to himself. I took the kids swimming with my mom and left Tom to do as he pleases. He could putter with his gun, watch hunting shows and nap endlessly.

He did all that except nap. A funny thing happens when the kids and I are out and Tom is left to his own devices. He suddenly has no urge to nap.

I’m not talking about resting for 20 minutes to recharge the batteries. I’m mean must sleep for 2-3 Hours. NOW.

I understand that he works a physically demanding job in 120 degree* heat . That would wear anyone out. But for some odd reason, it’s not nearly tiring when the kids and I aren’t there when he gets home. Hence no nap.

WTF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

That just screams ” I don’t want to deal with you” to me.

That really doesn’t help my feeling like I’ve made every wrong decision possible. Choices that affect my kids. Like committing myself for life to the wrong person. The person that helped me create those kids.

I with the kids solo for at least 11 hours a day. That’s not including the time he is present but can’t be bothered. At the end of the day I have nothing left. Not even for myself.

I can’t even muster up the drive to take care of myself.

I’ve been wanting to start working out. I’ve told Tom that I need an hour to myself when he gets home. His answer was that he didn’t get time to himself. Um…… yeah you do. You use it to sleep.  His response was no less frustrating than the actual naps.

” So, if I don’t take a nap when I get home, we’ll be even”.

AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!!!!!!!

We’ve had conversations about how I need to take better care of myself and exercise. Tom even said that I wouldn’t be around to take care of anyone if I didn’t change my lifestyle. He’s right but he’s unwilling to sacrifice an hour a day for me.

A freaking HOUR!

This near-uselessness pops up anytime I need to leave him in-charge of the kids. He always asks if I can do whatever after the kids go to bed or if my mom can watch them.

At this point my mom** spends more time helping me that Tom does.

I can’t keep this up. I’m  not going to keep this up. Today, after Tom gets home and has some lunch, I am taking my hour. Regardless of what he says.

Like my mom’s very wise friend, Kelly C. told me ” You teach people how to treat you”.

School is in session.

*no, I’m not exaggerating. I’m pretty sure it violates workers rights too.

** I love my mom. She’s AWESOME!

UPDATE-  I got my walk. Without an argument. Shocker! I only took a half an hour because I’m REALLY out of shape and didn’t want to kill my self or my drive to get in shape. My current goal is to start couch25k in October.

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I witness one of Amandas newest habits this morning. She took a swig of milk and spit it back into her cup. EW EW EW EW!

I informed her that that was not okay and not to do it again. I didn’t think about it after that. It skeeved me so I moved on.

I have a very nice coffee cup with a lid to help keep it warm when I forget about it. I forget where I put my cup all the time.

I had one of those moments today when I had to randomly abandon my cup to parent. I came back to it an hour later and took a mouthful and felt a floater.

Not much grosses me out like a piece of something floating in my drink and subsequently in my mouth.

Like many moms out there I spit my coffee into my own hand. I was hoping to not get any on my newish carpet. I seriously underestimated the capacity of my mouth. I ended up with coffee down my shirt, on my shorts and all over the carpet.

Luckily the carpet is the exact color of my coffee. Good call landlord man.

The offending item was left in my hand. My mind went straight back to Amanda na dher new trick. I hunted her down in her room. With a big grin she copped to spitting in my coffee.

*urp*

I wanted to laugh. I did laugh while I sent her to time out, actually.  Discipline with a smile isn’t really discipline. She immediately began to shake her tutu’d booty to the music from Sesame Street. I laughed harder.

I couldn’t keep her in time out. Discipline fail.

I’ll just have to keep a better eye on my coffee cup.

I have gained and lost independence many times over in my life. Moving out at 19 only to find out my roommate was a psychotic control freak. Moving back home at 23 just to feel that I had to be my mothers watcher in her time of emotional need. Moving to Tennessee to have my car and days off commandeered by toxic relatives. Meeting and moving in with Tom then having children to care for.

Little bits of freedom given and taken at the same time. As my children grow and learn, I slowly regain more lateral movement. The loss of an item needed to leave the house. A small symbol of our forward motion.

But what about the other end of the line. When the children are grown and have lives of their own. Beyond any one really needing you to help and care for them. Not your children or grand children or your great grandchildren. You have complete and total freedom to do as you please.

You can walk around naked, cook the foods only you like, go on long trips to nowhere in particular. Some times I can’t wait for those days. It’s just like I imagined my 20’s to be like, only with out the cooking.

My Grandma has that life. Maybe not the naked part but she is still very independent at the age of 82. She goes to the casino, hangs out with her friends and takes little trip to visit family. My uncle lives a few miles from her and visits her almost nightly.

Lately though, there has been some cause for concern. Grandma is becoming absent minded. Her driving skill are becoming more and more questionable. It’s just a matter of time before she gets into an accident. A couple weeks ago she lost her ATM card and this past week she lost her wallet in the casino. Her wallet was returned by the casino but it was missing the $150 she got for mothers day.

She doesn’t eat well either. I know this is the pot calling the kettle black here. I try to eat halfway decent. Grandma on the other hand may not be. During a phone call my mom told me it was pretty bad. Is it too much to hope that Mom is just being an alarmist.

For a couple years now my mom, Tom and myself have been trying to convince Grandma and Uncle to move down here. Uncle leaning towards it after he retires in a few years and Grandma will go where he goes. I would like her here now though. Grandma is very reluctant to move again. She spent many years in the silent ranks as an Air Force wife and has had her fair share of moving. I don’t blame her for not wanting to do it again.

I also can’t blame her for not wanting to lose any of her hard earned independence. She was married to the same man for more than 50 years. Raised 4 kids in the military and one grandchild on and off. She worked in a sweatshop when I was a kid and was the best baker this side of the Wallkill River.

It’s not like she needs a 24 hour babysitter. She just needs someone to watch her back more than bachlor Uncle can. Some one to go shopping with and to have over for coffee. Some one to make sure she eats because she won’t cook just for herself. Who knows, maybe she’ll finally pass on her killer taco recipe to me.

Grandma’s on the left