Posted in fun, funny, humor, Life, Musings, People, women

The Hormone Weasels Have Come to Roost.

pms

I don’t have much to offer beyond that title, there…just a brief note to let you all know that, much like every other month of my life, my body has been taken over by high levels of the unfriendly variety of hormones. I should probably know more about what they are, but to be honest, women’s bodies are incredibly complicated and difficult-even for women- and even though I’ve read all about all of the particulars of what we grossly call the “menstrual cycle” (admit it, that is such a gross word), I can’t retain that kind of information. It just flows in one ear and out the other. Pun intended.

Anyway, generally I know what is coming down the pike for me because I wake up just really unusually angry. Even if I don’t know that I am angry, maybe Camryn can’t find her shoes in the morning, or maybe the dog looks at me wrong, and all of the sudden I am just furious. Stupid little things really set me off. That’s my first clue. After that, well…for instance, my boss said something jokingly to me at work today, something I would normally have laughed at. Today, I seriously considered quitting my job. I literally stopped, dead still, and thought “I’m walking out.” That was my second clue. Later on, I started crying over a loving family scene while watching a rerun of 90210- the WORST show ever in the history of ever (I don’t know why I’m watching it , it makes no sense at all) and I was about to breakdown because Brenda and her family shared a hug. Or maybe it was David Silver and his grandparents. Either way, give me a break. Finally, I was just sitting here, minding my own business, when out of the blue I became very, very upset by how fat and ugly I felt.

I’m pretty sure I’m no fatter or uglier than I was this morning, but it’s this awful feeling…unless you have ovaries, I just don’t know how to describe this sudden gloom of body dysphoria that descends from nowhere. But it’s a SURE indicator of trouble on the hormonal horizon.

I’m going to go take a bath, wash my hideous face, and hide my bloated body beneath a sea of bubbles and essential oils, taking solace in the fact that this will all be over soon. Of course, what comes next is no picnic either, but…this is not the blog to speak of such things.

Have a lovely night. I’m going to rustle up a salty chocolate snack of some sort before submersion.

Advertisements
Posted in Blogging, Dreams, funny, humor, kids, Life, motherhood, Musings

8 Solid Hours (is that too much to ask?)

no sleep

I just looked at my watch- it is now 3:45 a.m., and I have been up for fifteen minutes. I finally waved the white flag of surrender, after fighting with sleep ALLLLL night last night. Anyone who knows me well, knows that I value sleep above almost everything else, and normally, sleep and I have a really happy relationship. But every relationship has ups and downs, and last night we were really duking it out.

Here is how my night went:

8:30- I start making noise about getting ready for bed. But we are watching an unusually interesting show on Disney XD, so I am dragging my feet. I get my coffee set up for the morning. I decide against washing my face, since I didn’t wear makeup anyway yesterday, even though I know better (this, more than anything else, is a clear indicator that my happiness levels are dangerously low- I know it sounds insignificant, but washing my face at night is a big deal, and this is a red flag. Must get my life together.)

8:45- On commercial, I let Cam do one sparkler, of the many we have left over from the 4th. While we are outside, someone nearby sets off an illegal firework. I literally yell “The fourth is over, asshole!” into the night air. Realize I am outside playing with sparklers. Feel stupid, but I am so, so tired.

9:00-Make my bed. Crawl into the sanctuary of my covers. Try to stream Phineas and Ferb, one of my top shows to fall asleep to, only to find that season four is no longer available on demand. What the fuck? Find that season three is still ready to roll, so I find one I haven’t seen (not that it matters, because I’ll be asleep in five minutes anyway) and quickly doze off.

9:10- my cat starts scratching on my door. I try to ignore him, but he won’t stop. I yell at the door. He adds meowing to the mix. I huffily throw the covers off of me and jump out of bed, yank the door open and stomp into the living room, opening the front door so he can go out for the night. He stands on the threshold, considering his options. “Get out.” I snarl- I don’t have the patience for this shit. He doesn’t want to go out now. I close the door. He starts crying and scratching again. I open the door and try to set him outside. He runs backwards into the house and glares at me. I glare back. Fine. I’ll just sleep with my bedroom door open so he doesn’t get trapped inside and have an “accident” like he did the other night, but he doesn’t get trapped outside, either, and decide to scratch at my door all night. Fine. That is fine. Just let me sleep.

9:25- my dog, Lucy, wakes me up this time- She is barking like crazy, with a much scarier than normal bark, out into the hallway. This is, like, there’s an intruder, or a wild animal loose in the house kind of bark. I am instantly awake and out of bed. “What?!” I ask her, “What’s in there?” But she just does that weird dog dance, and keeps barking, then runs into my daughter’s room. Luckily, my daughter is in my room with me (or at least it seemed lucky at that moment) because I am terrified to go in there. I sneak my arm in and turn on the light- there is nothing there. I check the backyard, the front yard, and everywhere else. There is nothing there. I go back to bed, but this time I close and lock my bedroom door. The cat can just deal with it.

10:00-Lucy wakes me up barking furiously again. I don’t care anymore if someone is in the house. They can just kill me. I’m going to sleep, period.

10:30- I hear the distinct rustling of the giant cat food bag in my room. I just know Lucy is getting into the goddamned cat food again. I wake up already yelling at her to knock it off. Instead, I find that it is my seven year old, who has decided she would be more comfortable sleeping in the dogs bed, and she is whacking the cat food bag with her leg. “What are you doing?” I ask.

“I just want to lay down here.” She says, “I can hear my videos better.” I look at the dog, laying forlornly on the floor next to her own bed.

“Get your ass in bed, and don’t wake me up again.” I say kindly. I’m back asleep before I remember to tell her to put her stupid Kindle away. My mistake.

1 fucking 30 in the goddamned morning: I am jolted awake by the sound of laughter in my pitch black room. I whirl around, trying to get my bearings, and find my child, pressing her Kindle face down into the mattress so that I can’t see the light coming from it. I can still hear the sound however. She does this in such a smooth, skilled manner that I can’t help but wonder how many times she has practiced this maneuver in the past. The voice of Satan seems to issue forth from my throat-“Give me the Kindle!” I fling it to the floor (only because it has a child proof case, and I know it will simply bounce- I’m mad, but I’m not an idiot) and tell her she must immediately vacate the premises and go sleep in her own bed. I can’t take it. We both know I don’t mean it though- there is possibly an intruder sleeping in there, anyway, or at the very least, a family of raccoons. She starts crying, which means I’ll NEVER get to sleep…so I turn the TV back on. But I make sure it’s  a show she hates, because I’m evil when I’m tired. I fall asleep to the sound of my child wailing at the injustice of it all.

1:45-3:30- Horrible dreams about owing people money, awkward confrontations with friends, trying to pee in a bathroom with a big hole in the door and people trying to get in (which, now that I think about it, that probably worked in my favor- the last thing I needed last night was to wet my own bed at the age of 43), having to look for a job and regretting quitting the one I had, and just generally feeling very stressed out and uprooted. These are what I call “worst case scenario dreams”, and I have them fairly often. It’s always nighttime in these dreams.

3:30-Finally throw the towel in. Realize that a bug of some sort bit me several times, on my fingers and my arm. Curse my life, and all of the cowardly bugs who refuse to bite you when you are awake and can defend yourself.

3:45: Decide I should at least write about it, and make it all worth something. I hope you enjoyed my (hopefully) amusing retelling of my night from hell. And for God’s sake, I hope you slept better than I did! At least I won’t be fully awake for work today. There’s always a silver lining!

Posted in Blogging, fun, funny, housekeeping, Life, Musings, random, Uncategorized

The Weed Eater

weed eater
Literally the one I have! I love it so much!

I know, I know- what a weird blog title. But YOU GUYS! I have to share with you the most fun thing I did this weekend, and guess what?! It was totally weed-eating my yard. I have never been one to find much joy at all in manual labor, lazy thing that I am, and I tend to shy away from any sort of powered-tool type thing, due to my inherent clumsiness and fear of losing fingers (seriously, I almost stabbed myself in the chest yesterday while cutting an apple- I know that doesn’t even sound possible, but trust me on this one.), BUT…

I have this massive yard. Great for my dog, awesome in theory- everyone wants a big yard, right? Yet taking care of said yard is a whole different matter. When I moved in, over three years ago, my landlady had covered the entire thing with nice, new wood chips. The thing about wood chips, though, is that they suck. The hurt to walk on in bare feet, they don’t look that great, and they basically rendered the yard useless. Also, they stuck to my dog and were constantly being dragged into the house. The upside of it was that the yard didn’t need me to do anything to it, it required zero care, aside from picking up the poop.

Fast forward about a year, after plenty of rain, and…the weeds started popping through. We had a seriously rainy year, and the weeds just took over. When they were green and flowery, they were so pretty, and the yard looked lush and beautiful. Then they all died, and the yard looked terrible and trashy, and it is soooo big. My front yard is massive, too, and though most of it is cement, the weeds popped up in every crack and every planter, and I just lost control of the whole mess.

I hired someone to deal with the front, and last year I enlisted the help of friends to get the back under control, but this year…this year I got smart. A few months ago, I went to Home Depot, all by myself, and I bought a weed eater. It sat in the box for another month, and finally, yesterday, I was brave enough to take it for a spin.

Oh. My. God.

I have never had more fun doing a chore in my life.  I was the butcher of weeds, the annihilator of unwanted plant life, the destroyer of dandelions. I was also the destroyer of my brand new Badminton net (oops!) which really sucks, and slowed me down quite a bit when the string wrapped around the spinny-thing on my weed eater, but nothing was going to stop me…except the fact that I really needed a longer extension cord, but I am definitely going to be purchasing one ASAP.

Oh, and it was also a really good workout, judging by how sore my arms are today! I felt a real sense of accomplishment when I finally called it quits for the evening and wandered back into the house, picking fox tails out of my tennis shoes, and sneezing away all of the dust in my nose.

I’ve honestly never felt more grown up in my life. I can’t wait to do it again!

Posted in adventure, Blogging, fun, funny, Life, Musings

Closet Drama Queen

drama

Having cut myself off so efficiently from the Young and Restless world around me for such a long time, I’m going to admit that I may have lost sight a little bit of my true nature.

For the past three years, I have been doing nothing but meetings, recovery, prayer, meditation, self-reflection, step work, trying to eat healthy, exercise, rest, and rejuvenation. The only drama in my life has been the tiny bit I can stir up by myself, which isn’t much. I’ve been living in some kind of idyllic little bubble and didn’t even realize it.

You guys, I let the drama in. I didn’t mean to…I was just sitting here, minding my own business, and it came for me. But I invited it in. I could’ve just said “no, thank you.”, but I didn’t. I said “Hey, what’s all this about?” and I rubbed my hands together like the creep I really am, eyes twinkling, mouth practically watering. What the fuck is wrong with me?

Anyway, needless to say, this has to do with men. That’s right. And what I found out was, it’s possible to get yourself into some pretty deep shit without ever really leaving the safety of your living room. In the past week or so, there has been salacious flirting, keen interest, misunderstandings and hurt feelings. I’ve been on a roller coaster.

Part of me longed desperately to just go back to my normal life. I couldn’t take the headiness of these conversations, and plus, in a practical sense, I was just spending way too much time on the phone.

But then there is that other part of me…and she isn’t right in the head. That part really likes that feeling…like you’re just about to bungee jump, and you’re looking down, hoping the cord holds. That’s where I’ve been living for the past couple of weeks.

And you know, I’ve been so good, for so long, that I thought that part of me had died. Imagine my surprise to find that certain parts of me are still alive and kicking, just waiting for me to uncover them again. All the work I’ve done, all the abstinence from all these funky little parts of myself…one exhilarating hit of that drama, and I am off and running. Whew.

I’m back on the earth today. I woke up this morning feeling almost hungover from too much conversation yesterday, much too much. The routine that I was chafing against yesterday looks pretty appealing right about now. I’m just going to put my head down, get back to work, and…

Wait. Was that my phone?

Posted in Blogging, family, funny, health, humor, Life, love, Mental Health, Musings, random

Things I do when I am sick (That I would never do if I was well) (…probably)

IMG_4098

I have had to veer off course in the “Five Day, Five Photo Challenge”, mostly because I have been hovering on deaths door, doing my damnedest not to cross the threshold…just kidding, although I do have a nasty, terrible, no good, fucking awful cold. The second one in about a month, actually. Which probably means there is some underlying cause, most likely fatal, terminal, or otherwise incurable, right? Which leads me to the inspiration for this fine list- the crazy shit I think and do when I am sick. Please, enjoy my neuroses, and my trashy behavior. There should certainly be some benefit to the world from these.

Here goes:

1) As mentioned above, I have never just had a cold. It is always, in my head (and confirmed by WebMD) a symptom of a much bigger, probably fatal, underlying disease. I don’t get headaches, I get brain tumors. It’s never a cold, it’s always early pneumonia due to undiagnosed HIV. The cough is really lung cancer. The achy muscles are Rheumatoid Arthritis. I actually even entertained the idea, briefly, yesterday, that there was probably a tick somewhere lodged in my body, and I was completely riddled with Lyme’s disease. Actually, that could be true. I am sure there are lots of places on my body where a tick could live happily for YEARS. I am not nearly that thorough in my self examinations, that I would spend the time necessary to locate a tick. Let me remind you, I have a four year old. I couldn’t even tell you the last time I took a bath alone, let alone one where I could thoroughly search for ticks.

2) Due to my (hopefully imagined) impending demise, I become extremely weepy, loving, and tender with my children. I imagine how fucked their lives will be when I have the nerve to die young(ish), and I imagine myself looking down on them from heaven as they cry and mourn. Even as I write this, I realize how mental I must sound. I’m even a little embarrassed for me.  Anyway, because this is such a horrible mental road to go down, I then become full of resolve to beat this horrible cancer (my cold) and vow to be well, against all odds (or with chicken soup and Robitussin, whichever is easier). Which leads me to-

3) The part where I turn into a sleep Nazi, screaming at my children, the dogs, and my phone every time it rings. Don’t these idiots know I am coming back from the BRINK, here? I must rest! I must imagine my body attacking the cancer (germs. cold germs, that is all they are) so that I can survive! FOR THEM! Don’t they see what is happening here? ( I can actually see my older daughter rolling her eyes at me in disgust as I write this, saying “Why? Oh, yes, because you are DRAMA.”)

4) Other and miscellaneous things: When I am sick, and I need medicine, which I never seem to have when I need it, I will go to the store in my pajamas and slippers without a single fuck to give, and I will zombie walk to the cold/flu aisle like a kid in a candy store. If a kid were a zombie with serious sinus problems, anyway. I spent forty dollars yesterday on shit for my cold. I know that I can’t cure it, but I just wanted to feel better. You and I both know, though, that nothing apart from time really works.  If I didn’t have kids, I’d just continually use Nyquil to knock myself out until the symptoms passed, but that seems dangerous with a four year old in the house.

5) I religiously spray salt water up my nose when I am sick. I know I am not alone in this, but it seems to funny to me every time I do it- we spend every well moment of our lives vigorously avoiding getting things up our noses (well, okay…you know what I mean) and the minute we are sick, we actively begin squirting shit up there. Or, I do, anyway. I have no idea if it actually even works, but at least I feel like I am doing something.

6) I take baths with no thought of hygiene whatsoever. I sat in a bath full of kids vapor crap yesterday, just for the hope of some relief, however brief. I nearly scalded my skin off, but dear Jesus, I could actually breathe for the duration of the bath. Unfortunately, I was too sick to bother actually washing any part of my body. It never even crossed my mind. Being wet was good enough in my book.

7) I will literally blow and or wipe my nose on ANYTHING when I am sick, so the best bet is to keep something intended for that near me at all times. This is why people walk around with Kleenex boxes when they are ill- to save the curtains. I actually wiped my nose on my own pajama bottoms the other day. I am pretty sure I am still wearing them. Guess how much I care?

8) I will gladly let my four year old eat nothing but Popsicle’s for breakfast. And lunch. And dinner. Only when I am sick. At least she is eating something, right? Now that I think about it, this may be WHY I am sick again so soon- she is probably diabolically licking all the rims of the clean glasses in the house, planting her pre-school germs (of which there are plenty) in hopes of Popsicle’s 24/7…I better keep an eye on her.

Well, that is it for me. I am going back to bed now. Gotta nip this cancer (cold) in the bud. Have a wonderful day!

Posted in beauty, fun, humor, Life, Musings, People, random

Dear Glamour Magazine

Here is another old one for your reading enjoyment. I am still in the Nanowrimo race, and not quite ready to throw the towel in. So, I am recycling- FOR YOU. Please, don’t let my efforts be in vain. 🙂

After The Party

Dear Glamour Magazine:

I have been a subscriber to you off and on for the last fourteen years. It has come to my attention recently that you and I have nothing in common anymore, much like a friendship you outgrow over time. The main difference being, of course, that you and I were never really friends- you were always more like that super put together chick with the great skin and ridiculous figure I would run into at seven eleven when I had last nights make up under my eyes and chocolate smears on my sweat pants.  Yeah, that’s pretty much how you made me feel, like you were smiling politely to my face but the minute I shut your cover, you were whispering to all your anorexic super model friends “Did you see what she was wearing? I mean, seriously, why even BOTHER?

I understand you are…

View original post 849 more words

Posted in aging, random, Uncategorized

Silly Poem

Twas the eve of my birthday,

I couldn’t care less;

I was too fat to fit into

My little black dress.

And it wouldn’t matter

If it wasn’t so-

For tomorrow is Tuesday-

(A work night, you know)

With no babysitter,

And no outing planned-

I shall simply sit home

With remote in my hand

Thinking of birthdays

From years gone by-

Getting so wasted,

I thought I would die;

Waking up fully clothed

On the floor by the bed

With the phone off the hook

Resting under my head.

Pantyhose off

Make-up still on

The house has been ransacked-

But nothing is gone.

Memorable nights,

I, alas, can’t recall

Too bad, as I hear

That I had quite a ball…

But that was back then

And this is right now-

When that doesn’t sound

Like much fun, anyhow.

Eh! I won’t worry

Or even give thought

To whether I’ll have

A good birthday or not-

Because, after all

I’ve had more than my share

Of birthdays so awesome

It’s not really fair

Besides, I can barely

Stay up ’til eleven;

And nobody’s excited

To turn thirty-seven.

Wow! It’s been a while since I’ve written anything that rhymed, and it was hard. Anyway, that wore me out, so I’m going to go to bed now…but I wanted to contribute something here, today, since I was so quiet for so long.

I hope you all have a wonderful night, I will definitely (try to ) write something tomorrow. Goodnight!