Neurotic Ramblings

Posts Tagged ‘family’

To say this was a loooong day would be such a huge understatement.

Work had it’s good moments, but today was a day I couldn’t wait to escape from. 

I feel like I’ve been running around since the minute I left the parking lot.  Drive home and get the soccer uniform, pick up the kids all the way across town, rush to practice.  This damn weather doesn’t help either.  It’s windy and muggy and humid and chilly all at the same time and the mosquitos look like something out of a sci-fi movie. 

It’s a million little things all rolled into one big, hellatious day.  Pick up laundry, drop off laundry, finding time to actually DO the laundry, clean the apartment, pick up the living room, ask the kids a billion times if homework is done and for the eleventy billionth time, take a shower!!!

It’s overwhelming.  And at the same time, I look around and think, damn, I have it good.  I have a nice place to live, I’m finally feeling at home here.  I have a car that while ugly, is reliable.  My kids have everything they need and so many damn extras that really, they’re quite spoiled.  But they help me out a lot around the house too so it’s a give and take sitch.  It works. 

I think I’m so exhauseted from thinking all damn day.  I expend so much energy worrying about the larger scheme of things that I forget to take a breath and live in the moment.  I’ve been thinking that something that’s supposed to be right shouldn’t take this much work.  Maybe if I take things a little less seriously, I can actually enjoy my time and be happy.  Don’t get me wrong, I am happy right now.  But the what-ifs and what-abouts are a little too much to take sometimes.  The long term goals will be reached with or without the worries so there’s no point in worrying in the insignificance that the now sometimes brings.  It’s my fault, really.  We all know I over analyze.  I obsess.  I work out every scenario and always prepare for the worst while hoping for the best.  But why?  Maybe it’s ok to live in my bubble.  Stop trying to burst it.

I don’t know anymore.

What I do know is that today at M’s practice Kbob and I took a walk to the car.  I held his hand in mine and we walked together in silence.  His little face looked up and just smiled and every single worry, every stressful thought, every single moment that had made today a bad day just melted away. 

Enjoy the little things in life.  I won’t always have my baby boy the way he is now.  He won’t always be my baby and want to walk hand in hand with me.  M won’t always need me to be there for her practices cheering her on.  They’ll eventually grow up and I’ll be in the sidelines, still cheering, but I won’t have a little hand to squeeze back.  That’s the reason why I’m here.  That’s the reason I go to work everyday.  That’s the reason I’m going to school.  Focus.  Perspective.  I’ve got it.

When I was married, my husband continually complained that I would shrink his clothes in the dryer. He used this as an excuse to play off the fact that he was slowly becoming a fatty; it was a running joke amongst the in-laws. Well, guess what? My grandma shrank my jeans in the dryer. It’s a sad, sad day.

I feel like stuffed sausage. These pants are so g-damn tight! But it HAS to be that they shrunk because all my other jeans fit just fine! It’s just that I needed to wear my sparkly butt jeans to offset the shittiness that this day was to hold so I was stuck with these. And they fit fine this morning, but somewhere in between the drive to my kid’s school and my drive to work, I must have gained like ten effin pounds. What gives?

Oh yeah, fuck you Mother Nature. You cross dressing tranny, you. I shake my fist at you!

In other news that you don’t care about…I started my shred again yesterday. I wasn’t planning on it, but I needed to.

You see, when I started jogging, I noticed what an awesome relief it was for me. Like, I could be having the worst fucking day EVER, and a quick two mile jog would make it all go away and I could clear my head.

Well, yesterday I needed to RUN. I had to. If I didn’t do something to sweat the stress out, I was going to explode. But guess what? As my shitty luck would have it, the damn gym was CLOSED. GAH! So I went home, popped Jillian Michaels in my DVD player and called her a bitch with each and every side step lunge I did. And.it.felt.good. Every bead of sweat and every ache in my thighs was sweet, sweet relief.

Sometimes I just get the urge to start running. Maybe if I gave in to that urge I could stop blaming my grandma for making my jeans shrink. Hmmmm….there’s an interesting concept.

Apparently my titles only consist of adjectives now.  How fitting.

First off, Happy 2010 to you all!

Secondly, I’ve come to the conclusion that I am incapable of being happy or accepting things/people that are good for me.  I start to self-destruct and bring everything down around me.  That being said, I’m not unhappy.  I’m just…blah.

As 2009 came to a close and a new year approached with the promises of new beginnings and potential awesomeness, I realized that I’m not ready to share myself fully with someone.  It’s a sucky thing to realize, but one that makes things much more clearer.

I can’t say that I’m focused on something in particular right now as this whole last week has been lived in a sort of hyper-reality being that the kids have been gone and my mom has been out of town so it’s just been me and my friends and I know damn well that’s not my reality, but it has been a week of relaxing and thinking about absolutely nothing but the little things in life that I don’t get to enjoy everyday like sleeping in till 10 am, taking naps at random times and just getting up and going shopping for things for me.  Damn, that was a long sentence.

So in other words, this year has had a bittersweet start, but that’s a good thing.  I have a sense of self I hadn’t had in so long because I was looking for something that I didn’t really want and now that I’ve realized that I can move on and take things as they come.  That makes no sense because I can’t really put this feeling of weightlessness into words, but I hope you get what I’m saying.

In any case, I hope all of you find what you are looking for and reach your goals and have peace of mind in 2010.  A cluttered mind makes for a messy soul.

Love you guys…besos.

I’m <this> close to throwing in the towel.  I’ve had it.

I can’t even find the words to properly describe my frustration with my life lately.  I want help.  I want my kids’ dad to fking step up and take care of shit.  Take the kids away from me every once in a while.  I can’t do this.  I’m losing my g-d mind.  Homework, projects, daycare, clothes, meals, mommy, mommy, mommy.  It’s never ending.  Yes, I’m frustrated.  And fk whoever thinks I’m a weaker person for admitting it.  I WILL get through this and I WILL come out shining and the project WILL be kick ass and I’ll figure out my finances, but DAMNIT, I can rant about it in the process because getting it out is the only thing that will keep me sane.

I’m walking out of the library, frustrated because it’s late, it’s cold, it’s raining and I don’t have cash to pay for the print-outs and they don’t take debit cards.  The circles under my eyes are big and dark because I’ve stayed up late the past few couple of days.  I’m exhausted and it shows.  I looked cute all day, but at that moment when I’m walking out, I feel the hell of the last couple of days weighing me down.  And who do I see as I’m walking out?  Of course it’s him and his girlfriend.  Looking as merry as ever, with NO FKING KIDS.   No, her kids are who knows where and he can’t take care of his/mine because of some lame ass excuse or another.  WHY???

A great friend of mine hit me with reality this morning.  I was wondering to myself, and to him on gchat as well I suppose, “Why would a guy NOT want to date me?”  Yes, it was a moment of self-absorption, but my friend was quick to burst it.  You have BAGGAGE.  An ex who isn’t worth the air that he breathes, no degree, and two kids.  It will take a strong man to want to take on raising two kids that aren’t his.  SAY WHA?!  I guess I hadn’t thought of it that way.  Maybe because I’m not looking for a baby daddy replacement, or a husband, or anything more than a companion at this point.  My kids don’t need a dad.  They have one.  And financial matters aside, a great one at that.  Yes, contradiction is my strong point.  But fuck.  I’m tired of being lonely.  I’m tired of not having someone there to share MY life with.  Maybe not every aspect, but most of it.

-Maybe- I need to stay away from emotionally unavailable men.  Maybe I need to stay away from men altogether.  But c’mon, how many times have you heard me say that???

But this is what I do.  I let everything build up, get frustrated as fuck, let it all out, and then everything is right again.  This is how I manage to function.  It’s a scary thought.  All my breakdowns are neatly chronicled in a web page accessible for the world to see.  But at the same time, it’s a bit freeing.  Maybe, I just need to write more.

And thank you to the person who inspired the title to this post.  I hope my crazy streak hasn’t scared you off too much.

I want:

• milk
• cookies
• better-than-sex cake
• a glass or two of wine
• a deli sandwich with turkey pastrami, guenoa salami & jalapeno jack cheese
• an ice cold coke (almost frozen to slushy-like consistency)
• a dos xx michelada
• these kids to go to sleep and get up out my face
• a droid phone
• a mani/pedi/massage
• an all about me day
• to go shopping for new lingerie
• for this semester to be done with
• to dissapear for a day or two

I’m obviously hormonal and this bitch of a day hasn’t helped.  Mother Nature can suck it.

There are very few people left on my “I don’t hate your face right now” list.  I’ve been on the war path all day so if I’m still talking/texting/emailing you, consider yourself special because even the bff and the fam caught my bitch-assness today.

Hopefully tomorrow I’ll level out because Mother Dear has decided to make me take the kids to the carnival and come with.  That should be interesting.  Thank goodness for happy pills.

After spending the last five days at home, being at work seems like a harsh punishment for wanting material things in life.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about where my life is, where it’s going and how it seems like I’ll never be where I want to be.

This semester has basically gone to shit. My GPA will drop. That’s a given. I’m completely out of the game and while I can still hope for one A and maybe two Bs, a C will be the inevitable outcome of the lab I’m taking. I don’t do Cs. Hell, I don’t do Bs either, but settling is what I have to do.
Yeah, I could have put more effort into it, devoted more time to studying rather than sleeping, but I’m fucking exhausted.

The options on how to solve this time/money/school crisis are not good ones:
a. Move back in with my mom and go to school full time. I JUST moved out. I’m not doing this to myself or to my kids.
b. Only do half-time at school for Spring. This will slow me down, yet again, and I’ll be further and further away from my degree.
c. Go to school full-time and get a part-time job. This makes sense, except for the money part. I can barely afford to live with my full-time “decently paid” job. How will I manage on less than half the pay?
d. Leave things as they are, get some good drugs and go full speed. This seems like the most reasonable one.

On top of all this, my kids need their extra-curricular activities back. M needs to get back in soccer. She misses it and it would be so beneficial to her health-wise and to release some pent up anger. Kbob needs something to keep him busy. He’s got way too much energy and needs a structured activity to release it.

Why can’t I have it easy like I see so many undeserving people do? I know that makes me sound like a bitch, but I see so many women out there with guys who take care of them. Pay the bills while they go to school full-time and support and love kids that aren’t even theirs. Meanwhile I’m by myself, which is better than what I had while I was married anyway since I was basically by myself then too, but it’s fucking hard. It seems like I’ll never be at a place where I’m calm and stable.

I’ve chosen to go into the education field not only because I like it, but because it offers stability that other fields don’t. I get time off coinciding with my kids and that’s a HUGE deal to me. My mom was always there for vacation time and it meant the world to me; I want to be able to do the same with my kids. It just seems my kids will be grown and out of the house by the time I finally graduate.

And yeah, I’m lonely. There are days I wish I had someone there to just chill with and talk to, but that’s not important right now. I realize that, and while my focus sometimes shifts to this, it’s just the woman in me talking. I think I’ll save the rest of this for another day. I’ve dragged this out enough as it is.
Oh, Mondays…you kill me.

I’ m writing this from my couch where my grandma has placed me and warned me not to move.  She brought me my cell, laptop, remote, a small cup with ice and a few droplets of coke and some crackers.  All this after putting medicine on my wrist like if I was a kid and telling me I’m going to be ok.  I love my grandma.

I have been puking my guts out since 4 am today.  Mind you, I didn’t eat much of anything yesterday so it’s that dry-heaving, cough your lungs out type puke.  I honestly thought I was going to die.  I can’t move without the room spinning.  Sleeping is out of the question.  So is laying down.

The last time I puked this much and this bad, it was morning sickness.  I was worried to death this morning.

I somehow managed to keep my head from spinning long enough to take the kids to school and run to HEB to buy a test and some Pepto Bismol.

Now just so you get an idea of how paranoid I am:  I’m on my period.  I haven’t missed any periods.  You have to have sex to get pregnant.  I haven’t.  But somehow, I was convinced I was pregnant and that was the cause of me dying of death.  It wasn’t.

I still feel like I’m going to pass out.  I would still kill to be able to drink a gallon of water.  I still wish I wasn’t puking every half hour.  Someone shoot me please.

*update*

I’m not dying of death anymore.  I’m just very, very uncomfortable.  My family rocks.  My mom’s been checking on me every half hour regardless of the fact that she’s already dealing with 20+ patients at the office and she knows I’m a big crybaby.

My grandma came by again and spent time with me to distract me and when she had to leave she called me to tell me funny gossip to keep my mind off dying of death.  She also picked up the kids and took them to her house so I don’t have to worry about them while I’m still recovering.

My PC has been texting me all day to see how I’m feeling.  So has another friend of mine.  If I was any bigger of an attention whore, I’d be milking this for all it’s worth.  hehe.

As soon as I walked out of class at 7 pm today my phone was already ringing and I knew it was my mother.

“It’s raining, there’s a flood warning, which is more than just a watch you know, and there’s a tornado watch as well.  Do you have an umbrella?  You should have a jacket.  And get off the phone…”  (in the background my grandma is chiming in with the story of the lady who got electrocuted through her cell phone because she was on it during a storm)

Oy.

I know where my paranioa of natural disasters comes from.  When I was little we weren’t allowed to watch tv, use the phone, or any electrical appliance for that matter if there was a storm a’brewin’.  You couldn’t even shower.  That was never really explained to me in greater detail other than “you can die”.

I do, however,  remember falling asleep under a nightstand at a hotel in Cisco, TX while watching a tornado through the open door…apparently, you can’t die from looking at them.

My mom and grandma have tried to ingrain some admirable things in me:

• Be a strong woman.
• Never lie; even white lies can be harmful.
• Always know how to do things for yourself even if you don’t need to do them:  “Hay que saber hacerlo para poder mandarlo”  (you need to know how to do it if you want to make sure whoever is doing it for you is doing right)
• Always carry a pair of flats in your car.  You never know when you’re going to have to walk a mile or two.

Aside from that first and last bullet, a lot of words of widsom have been lost on me.  Maybe for the fact that they don’t instill the fear that dying from electrocution or having ugly feet do…

Every time I hear thunder I almost immediately stop what I’m doing and think of my mom.

Everytime I go over my miles for the next reccomended oil change I am reminded of my grandma and all the car maintenance tidbits she will pass on to me and my brother.
(while they drive me insane about changing the oxygen sensor so I can get better gas mileage I can’t help but smile because I remember my grandaddy nagging them about their own cars years ago)

Everytime I have a panic attack over some mundane thing such as “Did I unplug my flat iron so the house doesn’t catch on fire?”…”Did I roll the car window down a tiny bit so the windshield doesn’t crack?”…”Have I changed the air filter this month so that my house doesn’t fill with mold spores?’  I stop and think of all my quirks and over analytical thoughts and remember I have my mom & grandma to thank for them.  And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

What about you?  Did your parents fill you with any paranoid thoughts?
Did you get any of your quirks from them?
Tell me!  I want to know I’m not the only twisty one!!!

*I wrote this last Thursday after a chat with a good friend of mine about
his kid and outdoor activities for kids. After being out of town this
weekend, I think I have a better appreciation for this town and the
foundation it gives its youth. It may not be perfect, glamorous or
innovative, but it’s home.*

Austin was an awesome place to raise to my kids.

I miss Zilker Park. Playing with the kids, walking down the creek, riding
the Zilker Zephyr, children’s museums, just the whole atmosphere.

I fucking miss it like you wouldn’t imagine.

I’m crying right now because it hurts that I took that away from my kids. I
brought them to a shitty ass town with no diversity, where everyone is
judgmental and one-track minded.

I like the fact that people are more family oriented and tight knit here,
but fuck. There’s nothing fun to do! Same old park, same old resacas that
stink and aren’t even pretty to look at.

No driving up by the lake to see the dam. No driving up the hills and
looking at the gorgeous scenery. No picnics at the park, lunches at amazing
restaurants or hanging out in our beautiful apartment just watching movies
and being a family.

And what cuts me even more is that they miss it too. It’s always “Mommy,
remember when we used to take walks by…or go play at…or when you would
take us…” It fucking breaks my heart.

I need to go back. And I will. But I’m afraid by the time I get there my
kids will be “valley kids” with a “valley mentality” and a “valley
attitude”. I would hate that.

I want my kids to grow up appreciating the differences in people. I want
them to explore and expand their knowledge to the brink of their capacity.
I don’t want them to be close-minded. I don’t want them to think that this
is all the world has to offer. I won’t have that.

And I know I can teach them all that here and the way they see the world
doesn’t all have to do with where they live, but how they are raised. I
know that.

It was just so much easier to do that in a city that invites creativity,
praises individuality and opens up the possibilities of the unthinkable.

Three more years, babies. Only three more years.

*As a side note, my monkeys are up in Austin right now spending time with
their cousins and the rest of the other side of the family. They’re having
a blast. And I couldn’t be happier if I tried.*

Omfg…I’m surprised I made it through today without my mother disowning me for being a heathen, my brother hating me for telling him he’s a total douche bag and my grandma crying because I refuse to let her talk shit about my ex-husband in front of the kids.  So, how was your day?

My mom is a morning person.  A “wake up at 6 in the morning with a smile on my face and sing-song wake up to everyone that we’re going to be late and it’s a beautiful day” kind of person.  I am not.  I need at least 15 minutes in between the time my eyes open and the time I am able to get my body out of bed and drag ass to the bathroom to splash water on my face.  Talking to me anytime in between that warrants a grunt and a “leave me alooooooone” and since she’s my mom and I can’t cuss that early in the morning a very inward “fuckmylifeIjustwanttosleeeeeeeep”.

Ok, fast forward through the next three hour drive which includes her making my brother practice the violin in the van, speeches on religion and salvation and my mp3 giving out on me.  I wanted to jump out of the van.  But then who would I argue with for the next two days?

Spent the entire day at Shabbat Services which was ok up until I thought we were done and they broke out the scripture list which looked like it would take five hours to get through (in reality it was 4 1/2).   Older German lady who I have always looked up to gave me props on me handling Caleb (felt great about that).  Got to see a friend I hadn’t seen in over six years, caught up and bitched about how we sooo wouldn’t be there if we didn’t have to and promised to keep in touch.  Doubt it will happen.

Didn’t get to see the bestie.  Arranged for my ex not to flip the fuck out about me leaving the kids with my mother-in-law for the next two weeks.  Ate the best fucking pancakes and eggs at Jim’s after bitching about not wanting to go there for twenty minutes.

Now I’m sitting here taking advantage of free wi-fi and venting my pretty little ass off.  I guess La Quinta really is Spanish for free high speed internet.

Good night ya’ll.

pdots…Wicked, Just A Girl and everyone else who’s in Vegas right now, have a drink for me, will ya?!