October 2016 - The Weighted Life

You Just Might Get It

October 26, 2016 No Comments

Be careful what you wish for ’cause you just might get it
You just might get it

First, let me confess that I am a bit notorious for misunderstanding lyrics. So I’ve always heard:

I wanna see the world
Drive nice cars
I wanna have BOOBIES

Instead of groupies.

But more importantly. Remember when I wrote about feeling all pumped up to take on my life as a housewife and take care of my family?

Boy did life call bullshit on me.

The last week has been the worst/hardest/most upsetting week since I quit my job.

Everything went wrong and stressed me the eff out.

I hit a car in the daycare parking lot. And now I have to see that dad. Everyday.

My dog got ACL surgery which involved a doggie epidural. Did any of you even know that was a thing? And they took him back before I even got to hug him goodbye.

His aftercare involved icing his knee and massaging his leg.

Go ahead. Laugh.

My husband was traveling through all this and was having his ass handed to him at his work conference. And then he got sick.

My child went on some weird marathon whining streak.

Husband came home from hellish work conference, sick. So I kinda just had a third child to take care of on top of the kiddo and the doggie.

And then I was done.

I needed a break.

But I couldn’t freaking have one because I had declared myself the rock and the husband was still sick and miserable.

So I tried to keep doing it.

I really did.

But I got resentful and mad and then silently leaked tears out of my eyes at Jason’s Deli when 1) they couldn’t comprehend packing my food in to-go containers because we always have leftovers and 2) didn’t put lettuce and tomato on my sandwich.

So I quit.

I called the husband away from his work, told him to get his ass over to Jason’s Deli to watch the kiddo eat his mac-n-cheese at the pace of a sloth, and then I went home and had a proper cry.

Oh.

And then I discovered I didn’t freaking take my meds that day.

WTF, life?

And I know. People have it way worse and this is nothing to many.

But all that does is make me feel weak and beat myself up for not being stronger. More rockish.

It’s upsetting to discover that all my baby steps still just lead to a pile of rubble.

But.

I refuse to end on that note. Though I think it’s a pretty good line.

I have to leave it on a note of hope.

So. I took my meds today. It’s sunny. I get to rant at my therapist about all this nonsense in 40 minutes. And my breakdown finally got me out of having to be the one to get up with the kiddo in the morning. For the first time in pretty much EVER. So yay to my fifteen minutes of slowly waking up.

Here’s to climbing out of the trough. One baby step at a time.

so mental

You Can Feel Bad

October 19, 2016 5 Comments

You can feel bad if it makes you feel better

I have a parental quandary for all y’all out there in Internet land in regards to the kiddo.

But also re: parenting myself.

Yesterday I bumped a car in the parking lot at the daycare. With the kiddo in the car so he could have front row seats to me handling this mess.

I planned it that way.

So one, a dad friend saw the whole thing. So embarrassing.

Two, when I figure out the owner of the vehicle, he’s talking to another dad friend who get’s to hear my pitiful “I’m sorry, I bumped your car.”

Just a lot of witnesses to me fucking up. I don’t like it.

Anyway.

Dad of bumped car is super cool and nice about the whole thing. I am practically groveling for forgiveness. Payment for repairs yet to be determined.

And when we get back to the car, besides telling me that I need a new car with a screen (backup camera) the kiddo tells me:

“I’m proud of you.”

For what?

“For saying you’re sorry.”

That’s all it is to a four-year-old. I did the hardest, bravest thing ever for saying sorry without being told to.

Glad to have the chance to model that for ya’ kiddo.

My question regards today.

After clearly feeling pretty upset about it yesterday, I could still feel the tinge of embarrassment today. Which I have to say, for me, is pretty good. I was able to tell myself this was an accident, it happens.

No telling myself I’m shit or I’m a bad driver. Or a bad person. Just an accident that I still feel mildly upset and embarrassed happened.

Somehow this morning the kiddo starts asking about it. Again. Because… 4-year-old. And I mention still feeling bad about it.

He is totally confused.

“Why mommy? It was an accident.”

And I start trying to compare the light scratch on someone’s car to when one of his friends breaks his toy. And that I don’t want to upset other people.

He is still stuck on it being an accident.

So I ask, “So you’re saying since it’s an accident, I shouldn’t feel bad about it?”

Yeah.

“Hmmm. Maybe you are right.”

Because I DON’T KNOW!!!

I have low self-esteem and enough guilt for an entire Catholic church on Easter Sunday. But what the heck am I supposed to be teaching my child in this moment?

Empathy for others and to realize they might feel bad and that saying sorry doesn’t just erase everything? And that as a caring person you shouldn’t be ok with upsetting other people?

Is the 4-year-old right? I did it on accident, I handled the business of trading info. I apologized. A lot.

So I should just move on?

Seriously. Interwebbings. Help me parent my child.

And myself.

Metric Monday

I Grind ’til I Own It

October 17, 2016 2 Comments

I dream it, I work hard, I grind ’til I own it

It should be a Metric Monday.

But I haven’t been keeping stats.

I haven’t been writing.

And I haven’t been eating particularly healthy.

So here is a different set of stats.

Days since I quit my job: 268

Pounds I’ve lost since then: -6. Yeah I gained six pounds.

Hours in therapy: 22 at least.

Panic Attacks: 1?

Healthy recipes tried: quite a few actually

But where does this leave me? And what have I been DOING?

Feeling bad, trying to feel better.

Feeling guilty for quitting, contemplating going back.

Trying to convince myself housewife is an important job title and to be proud of doing housework.

Fighting with my child. Fighting my own tendencies and bad habits.

Napping.

Oh and FREAKING THE ‘F’ OUT about this election. I can’t stop checking the news for the next INSANE bit of ass-clowning to be uncovered. It’s a train wreck.

And I’m rubbernecking.

So I therefore have no time to write or clean the bathroom. Sorry.

But lately this Beyonce song is going through my head on nonstop repeat. Like all the time. Particularly ‘albino alligators’ at odd times.

I think I’ve listened enough that I’m finally pumped up.

“I see it, I want”

I finally have picked a path. No more torturing myself on what SHOULD I be doing. SHOULD I go back to teaching. SHOULD I be reading up on education issues and secretly planning how to save the world.

No. I had a revelation yesterday. I saw a job post out in my old district and was tempted to apply.

But then I started considering what that would mean for my family and our life and shit actually getting done.

And I realized I am actually really freaking important to my family in the role I am in right now. I take care of so much crap for them. Not to mention I actually get to be less stressed and be the rock of the family. I used to tell the hubby I couldn’t be his rock, but maybe a pile of rubble he could rest on.

But now I’m a ROCK.

That feels pretty damn good.

I realized I am not doing things perfectly or consistently, but that the baby steps I’ve been taking towards a healthier life are super good for my family. I am actually important to my family.

Which should be pretty obvious, but it’s not always to low self-esteem girl over here.

So I feel pumped.

Pumped to tackle my role as housewife not just because it was the consequence of quitting, but because I really want to do good by me and my family.

Pumped to lose the stupid extra six pounds I gained and then even more.

Pumped to work hard and make a difference in my life. And then the world around me.

Pumped to “grind ‘til I own it.”