Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Weepy Days

It's been one of those emotional roller coaster days. (I've written about that before on here). I think for me writing about a bad day helps it seem less powerful. It helps me to take back control. I like control. When I feel that I am not in control of myself or my emotions...I have a hard time. I cannot think straight, write straight, or focus.

Today started just like any other day...early morning wake-up, coffee, kids complaining. I was hopeful for a  good day. Then those little rascals started in on me...the nagging, complaining and fighting. By 12:30 pm I had lost it. We had been to the doctors where I had to my EXTREME embarrassment the kid had a HUGE shart in his pants during his exam. Then he threw a complete and utter fit over his shots. On the way out we stopped at the bathroom and he pissed. No poo, just piss (this is important to note as the later part of this story this is a key point).

We then hit my LEAST favorite place on this green earth, Walmart. Besides my  utter disdain for this god forsaken store we had to get a bunch of stuff for our impending trip. While in the store the kids fight, bounce on and off the cart all while the baby trys to climb out of her restraint. The boy again makes a trip to the bathroom in the middle of shopping. (Again only piss. This while I had a fully cart of shit and a baby and another kid to worry about. I did what I never have...sent him in alone to the restroom. I just could not handle unloading everyone. He said he had no poop.) By the time we get to the car I realize he has another shart, so I proceed to clean him up in the car. This is not ideal...a 5 year old has a smelly butt!

Next we hit a local surf shop. This time I strapped the baby on. Let the twins follow me around in the store. Of course they decided to hide in the racks and run like idiots all around the store. Then the boy screamed that his poo was about to fall out his butt. In rushing him to the bathroom we left the girl. I get him on the toilet and leave him there to go find the girl. Of course she is weeping. I am sweating and stressed. We get back to the bathroom that is full of boxes and employee piss. The baby then takes her pacie out and chucks it into the mop bucket. (fuck that, I am not getting it). The boy takes his sweet time getting his log out. Finally, we get the shit out of the way.

Finally, we go to Costco. I had to buy so many large items I could not have the twins in the cart....NEVER again will I go there with them NOT in the cart. The entire time they fought. I even ran the boy over with the cart. The baby again tried to climb out. The checker reprimanded my brats for their bad behavior. I tried to breathe. My stress level was rising to a panic attack.

On the way home the screamed, yelled, and spit at each other. I in turn raised the volume of the radio. The baby screamed from hunger. She refused her snack and threw it in the car. Somehow that gave the twins permission to start chucking their food around the car. I SCREAMED to stop. They laughed. I again tried to breathe. By the time we were rolling up to the drive way they had unbuckled from the car seats....I FLIPPED. (note: NEVER, never have I ever yelled, screamed bloddy murder at my children before). I screamed, swear words and all at them. I sent them to their rooms, shut the doors, and threatened death if they came out. I left them there an hour.

I cried. I weeped. I just lost it. I had those terrible feelings of guilt. I had lost it. Completely lost it. What would they think of me? I cannot even control myself, how can I expect them to do it?

I finished the rest of the day crying here and there for all different reasons...a dropped utensil, not being able to reach my husband by phone...Then I went into critiquing my life...what a bad house keeper I am, how I don't love my kids enough, how I am fucking them up, why I should have never gone back to work, why I can't seem to handle motherhood...It just kept spiraling....Even now I sit here in the dark, drink in hand and tears flow....I am a mess.

I try, I try so hard and it never seems to be enough....

I apologized to the kids. I saw the sadness in their eyes... It broke my heart. Tonight I take a big deep breath and try to start again new tomorrow.


PS. I am not going to proof read this post, sorry, I think it will be too hard to read over it.....

Weepy Annie


With Robby, 2004. Only child.

I complain a lot about my dog Robby. Unfortunately, he has become the sixth wheel in this family. He used to be priority number one back in 2000. He was the life of this little family, but now he is ONLY the dog. It doesn't help much that he has become a complete and utter pain in the ass! Running out the front door, down the street and into my poor neighbors yards (taking a dump there sometimes) or running into his favorite house...201. Then there is when someone comes to the door he attacks them with jumps, scratches, and panting...mind you all meant to show his love for said person. Most people find it utterly annoying and painful. I just want to drop kick the dog to Tijuana. It's horrible I know...I really am an animal lover! But Robby is getting on my nerves.

Then this weekend we had a scare with him. We woke up to him shitting out red blood on our bedroom carpet and pillow shams (I am so happy about the red stain on my green Calvin Klein sham. I am truthfully thankful that it was not my period blood making the stain.) He then started acting lethargic and quivering. He went out into the garden and laid down in the dirt as if to die. I thought he was going to die. He was clearly in pain and I didn't know what to do. Finally, I convinced the husband to take him to the vet. He had to stay there all day on an IV. Turns out he had colonitus aka bad diarrhea and was subsequently dehydrated. Now he is fine, back to his annoying self.

Now, after the death scare, I have realized just how much I love the blood pooping, jumping, run down the street pain in my ass dog. I realized I would miss all that if he was gone. I would miss the fact that he cuddles on the couch with me. Gives me kisses on my feet when I am feeling down. That he knows me....he knows when I need a little tender love, even if it is from a dog. So I am glad he didn't kick the bucket.

In puppy love,

Saturday, August 14, 2010

Life Could be a Dream

It helps that this is where I work...not too shabby.
I have a new and welcomed role in my life...my part-time job. I guess I am a writer now. Well, in a certain sense...I make Facebook posts and write blurbs on a blog. Hey, don't snicker this is no joke...companies need 'Social Media' Coordinators, Managers, writers....I am one of those people. It is a new era in marketing/PR and for better or worse it includes the Social Media outlets like Facebook, Twitter, and Blogger. (Good thing I started this blog, it gave me street cred.)

So three weeks in and I am feeling good. Finding my footing and enjoying the process of working. I like having something that is all mine. It is not defined by my role as a mother or as a wife...it is simply mine. Oh, how I needed that in my life. One of my friends said to me, "I lost something of myself in Motherhood." That is exactly how I fell, like a part of me or all of me was lost into Motherhood. This is because I have given myself TOTALLY and completely over to it. I know that it is a good thing yet somehow I didn't hold on to any of who I was...who I am...who I am becoming. So now, through work, I reclaim it. I take back ME. I am finding that doing this for myself is bringing a renewed sense of purpose into my life. I feel confidence coming back, I feel pride, I find more patience with the kids, I see life filled with hope...all this because for the first time in a very long time I am happy.

The job itself has wonderful perks. For instance last night I took one of my best friends of 15 years out for a girls night on the town. We went to the most popular hot spot in Laguna, The Rooftop, for drinks then over for dinner at a new restaurant finished off by a show at the Laguna Playhouse. We had an incredible amount of fun. We chatted about life...we enjoyed a lot of laughs. I kept saying to her, "I cannot believe this is my job! We are out in a beautiful city, eating amazing food, watching the theater and it is all for FREE and it is my job!" The show we saw was perfectly titled, 'Life Could be a Dream.' And it's true, when you decide to take control and change what you are unhappy about in your life it can be a dream!

Signed the working lady,

Saturday, August 7, 2010

Pandora Saves

When I am having one of those moments where I am feeling down and don't really know why, I turn on Pandora, my Cannonball station. When I am feeling like dancing I turn to my Justin Timberlake station. Then there is my everyday station, Broken Bells. I am simply in love with Pandora because I can match my music to my mood or change my mood with my music, if I so please. 

Using music to soothe and heal the soul has always helped me. Since I have no musical talent of my own, I love to listen to the creations of true musicians. The soothing voices, melodies, the strum on a guitar, or the beautiful tones of the piano. I am not real picky about my music...I know what I like and what I don't...
If it moves me I try to listen over and over. In this chaotic house filled with little voices and activity 98.9% of the day music is one of the only things I can control...and I DO! Maybe someday the kids will tell a story of how the music they heard in the background of their childhood somehow helped them...to process...to heal...to touch the soul...to alter a mood...to challenge them to create...that it somehow inspired...


Wednesday, August 4, 2010

The Gym

I don't want to go. The work day is temporarily over, not quite because later I have to go home and do some research reading. But in between I could, I should, go the gym. It was on my schedule yesterday but I wimped out because I had plans every night this week until Sunday. But tonight my plans got cancelled and my gym bag is still in the car. I have clothes. But I don't want to. I could even go to a spin class right now and make it home in time to watch SO YOU THINK YOU CAN DANCE. So that's not an excuse NOT TO GO. But then right now I'm writing this and I should be getting in my car to make it to spin class by 6:45. I can sign off right now and still get there in time, so I can't make an excuse that my blog is keeping me from going. In times likes these I let my reflexes take control. When I start to drive out of the parking lot, we'll see which way my hands steer the wheel. Will it be in the direction of the gym? Or in the direction of home and the television. I keep thinking of my thighs. I keep thinking of my stomach that I want to be flat (some days it is). I keep thinking of the beach this weekend and how it would be nice for me to be confident that I went to the gym this past week. I keep thinking about the cereal I just ate for a snack. I keep thinking how there are women who are 40 that look better than me. Ok, now I have five minutes to get there in time. I have a feeling...oh, who knows...I was going to say I have a feeling I'm going to make it to the gym, but then I always have a feeling and it's the exact opposite.
I sign off now and we'll see if I go work toward making my body look A LITTLE better.

The "Witching-Shit-Spiral-Meltdown" Hour

There is a time in every day that happens when all things go to hell...It all crumbles to nothing. I am sure this happens in everyone's life. Back in my single/working days it was that last hour of the work day when the clock seemed to slow down and stop, when all I could do was stare at the seconds ticking by until I could run out of the four walls of my office. But now there is a whole new meaning to the "Witching Hour..."

3pm hits and the signs begin to show themselves...a scream, a punch in the face, or a jail break out the front door...the kids have become demons.  I take a deep breath and deal with the offender. I give myself a pat on the back for handling things so calmly. Then not even 5 minutes later another one of the demons creeps into the room and decides to throw a toy at the baby's head. Or maybe scream, "You are on my naughty list and I am not talking to you ever again!" I hit my limit at this point and blow my lid right off. No more calm and collected....I become one of the demons. I hate myself for this. I don't want to be irritated by the never ending "Mommy," "I need", "I want", or the all time most used word in this house "NNNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!" The reality is I can only take so much and I do become irritated which then leads to an utter breakdown in the house. Everyone is tired and crying and we barely push through to make it to bed time. This happens pretty much happens each night. I usually crash at about 8pm on the couch with some kind of liquor and veg out, utterly exhausted...depleted and so wiped out I don't have the energy to even talk.

I wish that things were easier but the reality is this: Life is not easy. All you can do is embrace it all. Even in the times of chaos and meltdowns you have to take it all in. Nothing last forever and this stage will pass into something new (hopefully less irritating). For now, in the midst of the Shit Hour, I take a deep breath AND crack open a cold one. (Hey, you gotta survive the stage somehow! *hahahaha*)

Sometimes....I lock them out for just a moment of silence... *wink*

Monday, August 2, 2010

First Days of Living Together

I figured I might write a follow up quickly to my last blog in case some of you were curious how it is going....
Surprisingly great! I guess that's what happens when you almost spend every night together. My toothbrush was already there, same with my shavers and creams and shampoo. All the bathroom rituals of getting ready together have pretty much been in place for the last six months since we have had so many sleepovers during the work week. And it definitely helps that he doesn't have to be at work until 10a, sometimes 11a, which means he's always sleeping when I'm out the door, or he's just getting into the shower if he has to go in early. So we have the getting ready thing situated already, probably always have, and probably always will.
Also, he let me come in to his home and sort of take over and he's happier with how the place looks now as a result. All the things he dreaded doing, I did for him and we're both happy.
And now my kitty kitty is there and we're like one big happy family...Even with the roommate- did I mention that- yes, he has a roommate living there! A kid from Biola University. First I called him the Crazy Christian, but he's a good kid after all. He even just started dating the hottest girl on the show "PRETTY LITTLE LIARS" - Lucy something. I guess she's a Christian and he met her at Coffee Bean, bought her a coffee, she told Ryan Seacrest on the air that she met this really cute guy and that she hopes he calls her, he heard that on the radio, called, and now they've been on some dates. So the last few days I've got to hear these fun stories. It makes living with him, too, FUN!
So all in all, the living situation thus far is a piece of cake. And to be honest, I don't think it is going to be difficult.
For starters, we're never home. I'm going out tonight with a bunch of friends. He's going to the gym. We'll get home maybe around the same time, love on each other a bit. I might try to watch an episode of THE TUDORS while he reads his VARIETY, and then it's time to go to sleep and the next few nights will be the same, really. And if I'm not with friends, we go out together with friends. Funny, but weeknights are our nights to be social.
So it will really be like we're still just spending the nights with each other, except now I won't have to pack my bags.
As for weekends, we pretty much spent them together anyway, a part from the brunch here and there with friends and the tennis or racquetball he played.
I think we have this down already. WOW! It's crazy to say that, but really, I think we are off to a great start.
Sorry if this was boring with no drama to tell. Guess I can say there is a benefit to moving in with someone when you're in your 30's - you're pretty much already in your routines, and the person you're with either has to accept it or not, end of story. There's always adjustment, but not much.
A big, WHEW! and AMEN!