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, faith, family, Life, mindfulness, Musings, random

Tired

tired

Just a super quick check-in post to let my wordpress friends that I am doing okay, despite my silence these past few days.

Mother’s Day, my last post, was an emotional one for me. I spent a good chunk of the morning crying over years that I lost, and trauma I still carry in my heart. Most of the time, I don’t carry those things so close to the surface, but sometimes they emerge, and I deal with them as best I can.

This has not been the best week ever. I am dealing with some things that make me feel uncomfortable, angry, and scared. But I know that I am growing, because I grow the most when I feel the worst. I have every reason to believe that I will come through these current trials stronger than ever, but for now, I have to be okay with sitting with my discomfort. It’s just part of life. You can’t just stick your head in the sand forever, and ignore your problems- that’s the way they grow bigger! I am still learning, and even though this is a lesson I have learned before, I guess I didn’t learn it well enough because here it came again.

Thankfully, my mom is still in town, and I got to spend a really nice evening with her last night. This has been a rough few years for us- me working through a lot of stuff that happened a long time ago, and her trying to be patient with me, and trying to understand. There was a time, not too long ago, that I worried our relationship would never be okay again. But I realized this morning that my fears were unfounded- I felt exactly the way I want to feel with my mom last night: Safe, loved, understood. We laughed and visited and just hung out, and it was so nice. Now she is getting ready to head home, and I find myself wishing she could stay here forever, so that I could see her all the time. I really love my mom.

To sum it all up, I’m just tired this morning. The kind of tired that comes from being bombarded with too many feelings, too fast. It drains you, doesn’t it? But I know it is only temporary, as everything always is, and that I am truly doing everything that is within my power to fix what is broken. No matter what the end result is, I will know I did my very best. That’s really all you can ever do, isn’t it?

 

Posted in Depression, escape, family, Goals, humor, Learning, Life, Mental Health, Musings, random

The “Tired” Trap

yawn

I think I have mentioned this before- that people tend to get the impression from me, because I am animated and expressive, that I am just brimming with energy…well, let me tell you, NOTHING could be further from the truth. I am the girl who once fell asleep in a bowling alley- while it was open for business, and PACKED- across several hard, plastic, bucket seats. When I am tired, my day is over, period. There is nothing anyone can say to talk me out of sleeping, and no place that I cannot fall asleep at, if necessary.

This sounds like a dream come true (hahaha) to insomniacs, I know. The problem doesn’t seem like much of a problem at all when you would LOVE to be able to sleep. But, on the opposite side of the equation, you have me, Rip Van Winkle’s love child, who can’t resist the Siren’s call of sleep, even when it’s like, I don’t know, five o’clock in the evening. The time change this year, and the shortening of the days has destroyed me. The minute it gets dark outside, my body is like- “Okay, time to roll it up for the night.” Meanwhile, my kids are like “Mom, we haven’t had dinner yet.” I have coined a new moniker for myself lately, as a direct result of having to stay up later than my body clock thinks is just, and so my body trudges on while my brain sleeps. It is “Mombie.” See? Like Zombie, only with “mom” in the front.

On Friday, I went to bed at 6:30 in the evening and slept until 8:30 the following morning. Now, that is just ridiculous by ANYONE’S standards. My four year old went to bed with me, and watched TV until probably 8 before she fell asleep. I don’t know what time I went to bed Saturday night, but last night, after Camryn’s birthday party insanity, we both passed out around 6:30, only she woke up at like 8, woke me up by pulling my hair, and placing a cold, empty bowl over my face (she has gotten creative, I guess). I got her whatever she needed and then promptly went back to sleep. With her, of course.

The thing is, I used to be able to just take a nap, and then move on with my day. Now, I know, ideally, if you are going to bed as early as I have been, taking a nap at 6:30 is not very smart- any naps should be taken by like noon, at the latest. But it seems to me that, lately, I can’t ever wake up from a nap, not completely. I usually just go with things until they start to bug me, and this is starting to bug me. I am sleeping my entire life away. I am up right now, but I could totally go back to bed and continue to sleep, indefinitely. As a matter of fact, it seems like the more I sleep, the tireder I get. Which makes no sense at all, except that it is what happens. Hmm…

So, first and foremost, I am going to strike the words “I’m tired” from my vocabulary. Sometimes, I say things so much that I start to believe them.  Second, no more naps. I am going to push through- God knows there are plenty of things I could be doing around here besides sleep. ( On a side note, I think that may be precisely WHY I am slinking off to sleep all the time. Total avoidance of other, less enjoyable chores and things to do). Third, I notice again and again, that when I am exercising, I feel a thousand times better. In the build up for Camryn’s party, I wasn’t able to find time to walk or go to the gym, but I am going to do both today. I guarantee that I will feel less exhausted by the end of the day. I don’t know why that works, as it seems to be the opposite of what a tired person would do, but it does work. There is also the whole general nutrition side of things, which I have written about before,  and I know that the foods I eat effect me greatly. I think it was Saturday night that I caught myself musing “I have not eaten one thing that was good for me today.” And it was true! It wasn’t even challenging to eat like I had a total death wish, either. Easy as pie. (hahaha, I am just full of unintentional jokes today)

So, here is the plan- walking, working out, if not NONE, then at least LESS crap food. No naps. Oh, and water, water, water. And finally, no more saying “I am SO tired.”

UGH.  Just talking about it is making me…less energetic. So, how about you? Have you, or are you now, stuck in the tired trap? How did you get out? How do you plan to get out? Are there any tips you may have for me? Seriously, please share, because this whole situation is just BUNK. I need your help!

Posted in family, inner peace, Life, love, People

Keeping My Hands Off!

Today, the second day of my solo stab at life (it’s super hard to feel single when the guy you’ve been with for the past five years is, like, in the living room.) I have had to have several stern talks with myself about flip-flopping, minding my own business, leaving things alone and keeping my grubby little hands OFF OF IT.

You see, I am a resolver. I have been steering the ship of our relationship with all of my might since just about the beginning…and all of my best efforts still got us right here, on the rocks, falling apart. It is incredibly hard for me to say my piece, then walk away. But I understand, somehow, that all of my fixing of everything kind of brought us here. All of my forgiveness and hoping and trying to smooth things over set a precedent that no person, no matter how foolish, would walk away from. In short, I lay right down and said- “Yes, please, wipe your feet on me, man. I LOVE it. To prove to you how much I love it, I will let you do it again and again and again.”

Now listen, I am not blaming him, not at all. As the disgraceful human beings we all are, it’s very hard to resist what is given so freely to us. Sometimes we don’t even know that we are hurting someone else (especially if they allow it) and sometimes we can’t even see what is happening, or that it’s fucked up.

So right now, my job is to leave it alone. Yes, it breaks my heart to think of him alone on Thanksgiving while I am off with my family. Yes, it kills me that his car LITERALLY caught on fire today, and now he is just totally screwed. I want to comfort him, tell him, of course, that I still love him, figure out a way to fix it all. But my job right now is to let him sweat it out, hurt, feel shitty, suffer- whatever he has to do to GET IT. And it is awful.

But he is a grown man, and it’s not my job to fix him. It’s not even my job to decide if he is broken. I am giving all of this back to him, and back to God, because I am TIRED. If he can’t be who I need, and get there on his own, then he just isn’t the right guy for me. It’s incredibly sad, and scary and upsetting because I have never, ever stopped loving him. I love him more now than I did when it was all crazy and lustful and frantic all the time. I love him because I see how he tends to our daughter, how tender he is, and how perfectly he knows how to listen to her- in a way that I have  never mastered. I love him for a million little reasons I couldn’t even explain right now.

But I hate the way WE are. I hate the silence, the nit-picking, the distance between us that I, for the life of me, don’t know how to bridge. I hate the lies and the meanness, the absence, the inconsideration. And I can’t be happy this way. Simple as that.

So I figured this- if I end it all, just pull the plug on this thing, one of two things will happen. Either I will realize that I should have done this a million years ago and I’ll be fine, or he’ll suddenly realize that I am serious as hell, use his time alone to get it together, and we’ll work it out down the road. I’m not holding my breath on that last one, but stranger things have happened.

In the meantime, I am surrounded by people who love me, support me, want nothing but the best for me. I will be busy and happy and go to bed at night knowing I did the very best I could, here. My conscious, and my hands, are clean.