Archive | September, 2011

Seriously!?!

30 Sep

I totally said I wasn’t going to do this.  I wasn’t going to stoop to that level.  I was going to hold my head and move forward.

Sigh.

That lasted one day.

See, I posted a new blog about winning the Versatile Blogger Award.  You might have seen it, titled “I Won An Award B*tches!” In that post I had to pass the Versatile Blogger Award onto 12 other blogs.  Maybe I’m small minded, but sorry I think winning something as cheesy as a Versatile Blogger Award is pretty darn cool.

I’m just a nice Italian girl who wants my blog to get noticed….I have a lot to say.  I’ve also written a pretty b*tchin book that I want to get published (anyone, anyone??).  I’ll gladly accept that award, and I’ll gladly pass it on.  Let’s share the wealth.  Let’s help each other get noticed!

And then this.  One of the blogs that I follow, that I posted in the original article (it’s been since deleted), apparently wasn’t too keen on the Versatile Blogger Award.  Seems she thought I was some sort of crazy psycho stalker.  I mean, I’ve been called crazy and psycho before…oh right, and a stalker.  Yes, in “My Sign of the Apocalypse” when I realized that I was actually stalking my stalker.

Hmm…kind of scary I guess.  But not Norman Bates scary.  I mean, maybe I’m inappropriate at times or I lack boundaries….(remember the “serial killer” comment?) ….

But I have a good heart, and I always mean well despite the “oh no she di’int” moments.

That said I awarded the Versatile Blogger Award to this gal whose blog I had been following.  She seems super cute and nice.  She always writes really inspirational pieces, and I just find her adorable and love reading about what she’s up to.  She lives in Singapore, is probably in her early 20s, goes to school, and models clothing on the side.

Because I subscribe to her blog (or subscribed, now past tense) I got an email the next day that she had a new blog post.  Cool, I thought, What’s she been up to?  I click on the link and it says:  “Password Protected.  This post is password protected.  Please enter the password to read.”

WTF.

Image courtesy of http://www.urshirts.com

The blog is now password protected?  Is this because of me?  Did my cute Singapore friend think I’m weird or creepy or something?  Oh my gosh!

So I’m staring at my computer completely stunned.  Wow, I must have really offended this girl for her to password protect her blog.  I mean, that is the whole point of writing a blog – so people read it.  And to go to all that trouble.

WTF??

So, as much as I kept telling myself, It’s OK, Jen.  Let it go.  Let it go.  You know I’m not good at letting things go.  I mean, I did try some deep breathing exercises, but I kept going back to how can this girl do this?  I awarded her the Versatile Blogger Award!  Of course then I must blame her, as did my friend who said, “Well, she’s just f*cking weird, anyways.  Enough said.”

Agreed, but it was still plaguing me.

I just had to email my soul sister, SzaboInSlowMo, who passed the award on to me.  Did she get any negative feedback?  Am I the only one?  OMG, the anxiety over this!  Then I thought, Geez, this woman doesn’t know me!  There I go again, being all inappropriate.

SzaboInSlowMo’s response was so sweet!  She said of one of the bloggers she gave the award to: “she wrote her next blog kind of talking about how silly the award was and how she didn’t think bloggers should promote themselves. blah blah blah. I figured I didn’t really start it, because people are passing those around and it’s rude to criticize people who are bringing traffic to your blog, but I guess some are snobbish about that kind of thing…thinking they’re professional bloggers, haha.”

Whatev.

Then yesterday as I was blog surfing, I mean working, I stumbled upon this blog post Please Stop Just Sayin’ by TamaraOutLoud.

Intrigued by her title I decided to check it out. It’s a very well-written post – even humorous really – but she basically asks people to stop talking in slang…as in just sayin’, whatev, totes, LOL, WTF, OMG…and because that’s basically my speak I was sort of offended by it.  I mean, to each their own, but just because I talk stupid doesn’t mean I am stupid.

Of course I commented.  I wrote: “Wow, you guys take yourself wayyy too seriously.  Chillax losers!!!!”

Inappropriate, I know.  Why do I always do that?

And to make it even worse – yeah, I had a typo.  I spelled too “to.”  OMG.

People seriously need to stop taking themselves so seriously.  Seriously, umkay?

Image courtesy of http://www.raggedshirts.com

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I Won an Award B*tches!

28 Sep

They say that writers are readers.  And I’m a reader.  I’ve always been.  When I was a kid I was in love with The Babysitter’s Club series and then graduated to Sweet Valley High.  Then I remember reading some silly teen love stories that my aunt had given me.  I loved getting lost in a book. I would read books and imagine myself being friends with the characters.  I knew some kids said that reading was dorky, but I didn’t care.

As an adult I still love reading, and I’m in a book club – sort of, but actually not really.  I mean I am.  I get invited to read the books and attend the book club conversations/let’s drink a lot of wine get togethers.  I would say half the time I actually do buy the book, but I never read them.  I think it’s because my book club is for smart people, and I much prefer to read the cheesy novels I always read as a kid.

I shouldn’t say cheesy.  Some of my fave authors are on the New York Times Best Seller List.  For instance, Jen Lancaster (the author of Bitter is the New Black), Lauren Weisberger (The Devil Wears Prada), Emily Giffin (Something Borrowed) and, of course, the Shopoholic Series (by Sophie Kinsella).  My book club would be horrified right now.  As I said, they read smart people books, like The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini.  See I don’t read books where I can’t even pronounce the author’s name.

The other reason I don’t really participate in my book club is because I like to read on my own time.  I don’t want my reading to feel like homework.  I want to lay in bed and read because I want to read – not because OMG – book club is tomorrow night so I better finish this!  No thank you, that is stressful and I’m already on anxiety meds.

I’m going off on a tangent now, which I pretty much always do.  My point is that my blog reading habits are similar to my book reading habits in that I don’t expand my horizons.  I don’t venture outside of my comfort zone.  I always play it safe; reading blogs I can easily relate to.

That’s why when I stumbled upon She Can’t Be Serious I felt like I found my soul sister.  We’re like two peas in a pod.  I read her blog and was like, OMG, I MUST befriend this woman!  She blogs about beer and boots! Hallelujah!!  So when SzaboInSlowMo awarded me the Versatile Blogger Award you can imagine that I liked her even more!  As well as feeling unabashed gratitude and excitement, of course.

Yayy I'm going to be famous!

What is the Versatile Blogger Award, you ask?  Funny you should ask, because I actually didn’t know either.  How lucky of me that I won an award I didn’t even know existed.  I’m seriously stoked!  The Versatile Blogger Award is given to a blogger by a fellow blogger.  The fellow blogger chooses 12 blogs to ‘feature’ on their own blog.  I don’t even read 12 other blogs to begin with so what a great opportunity for me to do some research and see what other people in the world have to say.

My first duty as an award recipient is to offer a big thank you to SzaboInSlowMo.  I hope you will check out her fab blog – www.shecantbeserious.com.  Here is the story that made her “famous” in the blogging community: Mama Needs a New Pair of Boots which is how I “discovered” her.  You will love, love, love!

My next duty as an award recipient is to share 7 things about myself.  Hmm…I’m pretty sure if you’ve been following my blog I’ve shared more than you’d ever need to know about me!  But, here we go:

  1. I’m actually quite shy until you get to know me.
  2. Sometimes I think I’m really a famous person and I just don’t know it.  Yes, people watch me!  I swear!
  3. I used to think I had a low pain tolerance until I had a baby.  Now I think I’m quite strong!
  4. I don’t travel well because I’m such a creature of habit and I like my own “stuff.”
  5. If I had to pick one food to eat for the rest of my life I would pick a potato.
  6. I just became an auntie for the first time at 32-years-old.
  7. I’m left handed – and no, I’m not worried I will die young because of it. (See The Peril’s of Being a Lefty in Time Magazine U.S.)

And now for the honor of passing this lovely award onto 12 other bloggers!  This has been such an ideal chance to spread my wings and check out some other blogs out there – and there are tons of them.  Congrats to all my fellow blog writers!  I hope you don’t view this as a “chain letter” but rather as a brilliant way to get your blog across to a larger audience. :)

Cheers!

Tales of a Reluctant Blogger

Betches Love This

Amy’s Corner

CammieB

Blackfrangipani

Converted Southerner

Assistance Dogs/NEADS

OK – yes, I can count.  I realize I have only selected 7 blogs to pass on the coveted Versatile Blogger Award.  Sorry, readers, but I don’t want to just “pick” a bunch of websites just to meet my quota.  These are websites I actually recommend.  So, it’s 7.  At least I spread my wings a little bit and have discovered some new blogs that I intend to keep up with!

And thanks again SzaboInSlowMo, my fellow soul sister!

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JUST STOP TALKING!!!

21 Sep

Am I the only one who doesn’t know how to shut the fuck up?  I mean seriously, it’s unbelievable the stupid things that come out of my mouth.  I think of myself as a smart person.  What’s my problem?

ALCOHOL!

I’m not going to lie.  I love drinking.  I love wine, shots, margaritas…if it gives me a buzz I love it.  Except beer because that just makes me feel fat and bloated.  No thank you!  I’m not sure which parents genes gave me this wonderful curse of loving being intoxicated, but since the birth of my daughter, Eva, I have been working very hard at getting my drinking under control.

No more dancing on bars and puking in garbage cans – yes I’ve done both.  And I have done extremely well – a couple glasses of wine here or there – UNTIL….my bestie’s wedding on September 17th. It was one of those disaster nights where you wake up in the morning and as the memories come back to you and the more you remember the more you consider putting a gun to your head because you can’t bear to face this humiliation.

So what did I do?  What DIDN’T I do is the more appropriate question.

Here’s an excerpt from an email I sent to a friend on Monday morning as I was having anxiety over my drunken faux pas:

From: Jennifer [jlee5879@live.com]
Sent: Monday, September 19, 2011 1:59 PM
To: Elizabeth; Catherine; Kristin
Subject: Monday Girls -

Thursday I felt like I was coming down with something but still went by K’s to see our friend E who was in town from Portland for the wedding. Probably shouldn’t have because I woke up Friday morning with a full on sinus head cold.  I was like wtf, I have the busiest weekend and I get sick today of all days?  So I was pounding vitamin C all day.  I go from work right to the rehearsal. I stopped for a pumpkin spice latte which was heaven. Then I had to drive to Lemont.

We were at Montefiori Event Center in Lemont which was right by the BMW golf tourney which caused for a horrific traffic jam Friday at 5 pm when we were all fighting to get to the rehearsal. I’m talking streets closed, they wouldn’t let us through – I told 3 different police officers that I had to get to Montefiori for a wedding rehearsal and they told me too bad, the road was closed. Wtf?  We were all late to the venue and completely stressed.  The rehearsal went smoothly and at that point I was literally dying to go to bed but I drove home to pick up my hubby and then we went to Harry Carey’s for the rehearsal dinner and it was completely lovely and we left by 10 pm so I could get some sleep. I happened to have a Z-pack sitting in my medicine cabinet (hallelujah!) so I popped those and just after taking the 1st dose Friday and the 2nd dose Saturday am I felt TONS better on Saturday, nothing my wonderful natural anxiety meds and a couple Advil and a glass of wine couldn’t fix.

By the way, we got the best bridesmaid gift ever – K got us brown Kate Spade bags to match our dresses!  Soo cute and soo sweet!  Love it!  I was literally peeing myself.

Saturday my mom dropped me off at Asha Salon in Lombard at 10 am for my up-do. They ended up charging me $10 more than they quoted us, and I just paid it, and one of the girls later told me that she b*tched so they let her pay $60. We were sup to pay $65 and I got charged $75 so I was like that stinks!  I WILL be sending a letter detailing my disappointment over that…  Then we were running here there and everywhere for pics and what not and then finally got to Montefiori about 2 pm for more pics and the bride and groom’s big “reveal” of seeing each other.  It was perfect and K was a beautiful bride!

Of course there was a little drama – grandma fell out of her wheelchair and K’s poor nephew fell and had a fat and bloody lip, then, omg, can you even believe this, we think got stung by a bee in the same spot on his lip, swear to God, but wondering if maybe the bee didn’t sting him and he just started freaking out because we were all freaking out swatting at the bee/kid like crazy and then he totally had a breakdown screaming at the top of his lungs. His poor mother was crying all while they were trying to do the family pic, so then me and the two other bridesmaids were standing there like wtf, the other 2 crying, me standing there completely in shock like wtf just happened?  I felt like a heartless b*tch that I wasn’t crying, but I was seriously in shock.  That poor little boy! The ceremony was absolutely perfect – short, sweet and to the point. It was outside and the weather couldn’t have been more perfect. After the ceremony pics were done (yayy, smartest thing ever to take pics before) so we just went to the cocktail hour and sipped some pinot grigio.  Cocktail hour flew by and before I knew it we were going in to be seated and eat dinner…..by this time the wine was flowing let me tell you.

Totally had a STFU moment at dinner when I told one of the bridesmaids to watch out, that’s what serial killers do when she told me her son repeatedly kicks their little dog. She looked at me like I was a monster and said, “You just called my son a serial killer.” I was like, Oh crap, damage control. Then the usher gives me what I am referring to as a “magical unicorn drink.”  I later found out it’s just a white russian, but holy cow, amazzzeeee and got me sooo hammered that other disasters entailed, mainly me sticking my foot in my mouth over and over like a bad dream where you are trying to run and your legs won’t move only it’s me trying to shut up and the words just keep coming out my mouth and it wouldn’t stop, it was over and over and over.  Oh my gosh, word vomit!  HELP!

Needless to say I went home completely hammered with a husband who hated me. Yikes, I haven’t had this happen since before I got pregnant with Eva – probably my Halloween party when I passed out and threw up in my room and Jason V. saw me naked.  Oops.  And I was very very proud of the fact that I had gotten my drinking under control, or so I thought.  I am beyond disappointed in myself.  I tried to schedule an emergency counseling session to discuss my “unhealthy relationship with alcohol” with my counselor, but unfortunately she can’t get me in unless I leave work early which I’m not going to do so we will discuss next Tuesday.

In the meantime, I’ve done damage control and Brett and I are fine, and luckily the bridesmaid doesn’t hate me!, but I mean I feel depressed about it and just like I’m a complete @ss.  I’m so over being the out of control drunk idiot and fearing that my only choice may be giving up alcohol and leading a sober life style, and I just don’t know that that would be any fun! :( But, I can’t be sexually harassing big Biggy-style black men in front of my husband and his wife – luckily she was laughing her @ss off and not wanting to beat my @ss and my husband was yelling at me that I was a complete @ss as I stumbled to the car.  Yes, seriously.  I’m humiliated.

Yesterday I was completely hungover and luckily my baby was a complete angel – it’s like she knew – and we ordered pizza and watched movies all day and it was so wonderful and relaxing. Today I’m just dying to go home and get one more day further from the weekend so it becomes a distant memory and isn’t sitting at the tip of my brain laughing at me all day as I remember, oh crap, did I do that, too????

__________________________

Luckily I got this response which eased my mind for a bit:

From: Catherine
Sent: Monday, September 19, 2011 2:56 PM
To: Jennifer; Elizabeth; Kristin
Subject: RE: Monday Girls -

Jen your email cracked me up! I know your embarrassed about drinking a little too much at the wedding but don’t feel so bad, we’ve all been there and done that a million times! Hell, I probably did it twice in the last two weeks : ) You may have drank a tad too much but it was a wedding so don’t be too hard on yourself, you still have your drinking under control so don’t have any worries.

____________________________

However, after more thinking about it – and remembering more:

I told this girl I had a girl crush on her; that she was absolutely gorgeous.  Great – leave it at that.  You made her day.  But, no.  Instead of stop talking, I had to reiterate that “I’m not a lesbian or anything, I just totally have a girl crush on you.”

Then, I talked repeatedly about my Post Partum Depression and how I’m finally over it and feeling soo much better (yayy) but back then I was really depressed and wanted to kill myself and and and…oh my gosh, STFU!  Completely inappropriate conversation.  You might as well talk about your bowel movements!

Then, I couldn’t let the “serial killer” comment go because I was seriously stressing about it.  Instead of dropping it or simply apologizing I had this fantastic plan that if I told the bridemaid’s BFF (who I had just met that day, like 5 minutes ago, WOW, there’s a great first impression) that I was TOTALLY joking she would absolutely get it.  Um…no.  She looked at my like I was the biggest @sshole she’d ever laid eyes on and asked me “Why would you say that about a little boy?”

OH.  MY.  GOSH.  Make it stop!  Please!

I think hitting on the Biggy-style black dude with the awesome Fu Manchu was just the icing on the cake.  I don’t know why I was obsessed with this poor dude, but I sure hope he loved the attention from some “crazy white chick,” and I’m so thankful to his bitchin’ wife that she was able to laugh it all off.  As my husband told me she said, “I’m going to go home and do my man tonight.”

Yes, you can thank me later, Biggy.

I digress.  I’m sure there was more.  If I detail it all for you I fear that this post would be 10 pages long.  Or maybe someone who forgot something stupid I said to them has since been reminded of it.  Uh-oh.  Didn’t I learn?…Just STOP TALKING!!!

Me and "Biggy"

Me and my hubby BEFORE he wanted to beat my ass

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The Green Eyed Monster

15 Sep

I have mixed feelings as a full time working mother.  On the one hand, I miss Eva terribly all day and get very jealous of my stay-at-home mom friends who see their babies all day when I only see Eva maybe 2 hours a day Monday thru Friday.  AND for that 2 hour time period that I am able to spend with her it’s a gamble as to whether or not it will be quality time, meaning is she going to be in a good mood or, as I refer to it, an evil mood?  (Eva is just like her mama; that when she’s in a happy mood she’s great, but when she’s not happy, look out!, hence the term “evil.”)  Maybe a bit dramatic, but you’re invited to come hang out at my house on those evenings, and I guarantee it’s no picnic.

Which brings me to that, on the other hand, I fear that being with my yin and yang daughter 24/7 may actually drive me crazy, and I just got off the crazy train, thank you very much and I did not request a return trip.

I’m a good mommy (yayyy, this may be the first time I’ve said that!), but patience isn’t always in my back pocket so between the two of us quick tempered and highly emotional chicks less can be more.

Fortunately I think we have a really great set-up here.  Monday through Friday, while my husband and I work, Eva is in the care of my mom and my stepmom (they switch days, just to be clear.  They’re not lesbians.  Not that there’s anything wrong with that…).  I know that I am SUPER lucky that my Chiquita is watched by family – and better yet being fought over by family who loves her and is dying to spend time with her.  She is a very happy, independent and well-rounded kid.  She gets to do all kinds of fun stuff during the week with the G-ma’s.  They play with her, they spoil her, they take her fun places…I can’t even tell you what she does all day.  I get texts here and there and feel a twinge of jealousy while I’m sitting at my computer at work looking at the clock with disbelief that it is only 11 am, when I’m thinking, seriously shouldn’t it be like 2 pm already?  Working part time would really be ideal for me, but that’s another topic.  And my bosses won’t let me do it, so I digress.

So when 4:30 finally approaches I eagerly leave work knowing I get to see my kid.  Even if she’s being evil I’d still rather see her and spend time with her than not.  I pull up in the G-ma’s driveway.  I skip inside the house (Ok, I don’t really skip.  Did you really imagine me skipping?) And Eva squeals with delight at the sight of me.  My heart is bursting with excitement.

“Hello!” I yell.

“Ahhh!” She yells, running towards me.

It’s the greatest feeling ever.  I grab her in my arms in a tight bear hug.  “What did you do all day?”

Eva oohs and aahs about her day, presumably telling me what an awesome day she had with the G-ma’s while I look at her with wide eyes, nodding like I understand what she’s telling me.  I visit for a few minutes, thanking whichever mom has her, giving a brief description about my day and finding out what Eva’s schedule was like and whether or not I can expect an angel tonight, which usually depends on her napping.

While I’m visiting Eva is playing or crawling on my leg or usually getting into some form of trouble, like grabbing the remote control and pushing buttons like crazy.  Side note, it’s hilarious because my mom panics if Eva changes a channel or setting because my mom and technology don’t mix so she’ll be frantically trying to figure out what Eva touched.  And just like my old self I’m no help whatsoever because, hello, I’m telling you a story.  Aren’t you listening?

Finally, we decide it’s time to head home.  I scoop Eva up declaring, “Let’s go home and see Daddy!”

She fights me a little, and whimpers.

“Come on!”  I exclaim.  “Let’s go home and see Daddy…and Dexter….and Kennedy… and Kelse-Kelse.” I start to rattle off names to distract her and pray that she doesn’t throw a temper tantrum.

And here we are.  It’s 5 pm and Eva is having a complete meltdown.  She clings to G-ma crying like I’m a complete stranger.  Well, luckily that didn’t happen to me.  It would have broken my heart.  Normally she’ll whimper a little when we leave, but once we’re in the car and headed on our way she’s back to her smiles and chatter, while we jam to B96 because believe it or not, Eva’s a hip kid who loves pop music.  Katy Perry is her fave.

However, this did actually happen to my husband!  My poor husband.  He came home so upset.  So defeated.  He detailed the story of our baby crying hysterically clinging to my stepmom while he tried to reach for her.  He tells me the story on a day that Eva was being evil.  She’s running around the house screaming and crying, and I’m having a mommy-meltdown thinking O-M-G, I’m going to kill this kid.  As he’s telling me the story, saying words like “stranger”, and describing how she was even trying to cling to Grandpa in a desperate attempt NOT to go her father, I find myself getting mad.

Yeah!  I find myself getting downright angry with a 1 year old.  A 1 year old I love more than life itself.  I’m like, WTF, how DARE she?  We are HER parents!  We love her to pieces!  We work hard for her.  WTF, how could she do this?  I’m getting like crazy pissed now.  This kid has no respect.  She doesn’t get it at all.

Now she’s in the kitchen trying to get into the cabinet under the sink; the cabinet with the cleaning products in it.  As my husband is still detailing his horror story of complete humiliation and heartbreak in front of my parents, I’m grabbing Eva’s hand and saying no, as I stand in front of the cabinet.  She keeps trying to open the cabinet.  She can open any other damn cabinet in this kitchen but she wants to open the one cabinet that she can’t go in.  Figures.

“No Eva,” I repeat.  I feel like all I say these days is ‘no Eva.’  My mom tells me it will be like this for the next 2-3 years.

It is in this moment that I have an out-of-body experience seeing myself completely flipping out.  I yell no at Eva (again, for like the 20th time), I accidentally slam my finger in the cabinet door (mother f*cker!!!! I want to scream), there are tears from both of us….What in the world am I so upset about?  My goodness!  What has happened to the new and improved Jen?  The calm, cool and collected Jen?  The yoga practicing balanced Jen?  Well, she has left the building right now and Evil Mommy has entered.

We sit down to eat dinner.  It’s silent besides Eva screaming as she throws her Sippy cup on the floor.  I put my head down on the table, and Eva strokes my hair.  It suddenly occurs to me.  My feelings are hurt.  I am sad.  Why doesn’t my one and only want to come home and see me?  And love me?  And be excited to be with me?  I ache for her all day!

I rationalize this.  She is a baby.  She doesn’t know any better and only knows that when she is with the G-ma’s she’s having the time of her life.  We’re talking cotton candy and roller coasters.  I mean, not really obviously, but you know what I mean.

Chiquita only knows the moment.  Right now.  She’s having fun RIGHT NOW.  She doesn’t want to leave.  And this makes me sad.  And jealous.

I am her mother.  I’m fun!  And she should want to be with ME.

But moms aren’t always fun.  We have rules and routines.  We working moms pick up the kids when they are tired and worn out after their long and fun day.  I remind myself there are many worse things in life, that my child is happy and well taken care of.  That I know she is loved.  And that I know she loves me.

Finding balance.  It will come to us.  It still hurts me, but I can’t be upset with and blame an innocent child.  We’ll get there…we take steps in the right direction every day.  And even on the bad days I wouldn’t trade it.  I just drink more wine.

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The Mom-Guilt List

9 Sep

If you’re a mom who doesn’t suffer from mom guilt then I applaud you. Better yet, I raise a glass of wine to you. You have managed to not go BaNaNaS, you’ve Found Balance and inner peace. Cheers.

If you’re like the rest of us you’re just a hot mess hoping to get through the day. Like there aren’t enough things to worry about, here’s why our brains go a mile a minute:

  1. Does my kid have matching socks?
  2. Did I remember to pack lunches?
  3. Wait, who’s picking the Chiquita up?
  4. I forgot to take a Xanax today, God help us.
  5. If I catch this red light I will be late to work.
  6. Sh*t, peed through the diaper and no time for a bath. WIPES rule!
  7. Did I let the dog out?
  8. Did I feed the dog?
  9. Does the dog have water?
  10. Did my kid have water?
  11. When was the last time I had sex with my husband? :/
  12. Why am I up from 2 am to 4 am?
  13. What the hell are we going to have for dinner? Sandwiches.
  14. My car is on E, please let me get to ______ (wherever I’m rushing to)
  15. Am I bad mom because I _______ (whatever dumb thing I did today)
  16. Keeping up with the Kardashians or Barney? Kardashians. Sorry.
  17. Diapers or new heels? Damn diapers.
  18. When was the last “Girls Night” I made it to?
  19. Have I really been reading ______ (insert book) for a year?
  20. I had no idea those shoes were too small. Squished toes. Oops.

And what about Dad-Guilt? Do dad’s ever feel guilty? Hahahahahahaha

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Finding Balance

8 Sep

Photo courtesy of photobucket.com

I’ve always been a very yin and yang type of person.  I’m very black or white – I’m either off or on, I either like you or I don’t, I’m in a good mood or a bad mood.  A lot of that might have been the instability of my hormones, and therefore my moods, or maybe I’m just a typical chick who never knows what she wants.

When I was pregnant I remember thinking that after I had the baby life would go back to as it was before…you know once this pregnancy was over with.  Then one day, at about 9 months pregnant, it occurred to me.  I will be bringing home a baby.  Yes, wait a minute.  Life will never be the same again.  It scared me – it scared the shit out of me.

With everything Eva and I went through with the after-birth complications and then my near-death experience (See blog post: Knocking on Heaven’s Door) I don’t think I ever had the chance to properly process my feelings on the unfortunate way in which Eva was welcomed into the world.

Instead, I internalized those feelings of fear and anger and self-pity – as I’ve said before I was plagued with feelings of ‘Why did this happen to ME?’ and ‘Couldn’t I have had a “normal” experience? – and I did what many dependents do best.  I drank.  I shopped.  I pretended like life was good.  In hindsight I don’t think I pretended that well because I remember a time of sad blog posts and angry status updates.  I remember the day I dyed my blonde hair black.  I remember the emptiness inside.

At the point that I could no longer stand feeling like a selfish and uncaring mother I faced the depression that was drowning me.

I hated myself.  Why was this change so hard for me?  I felt like all of my friends approached motherhood with ease and here I was a big fat failure.  I was failing miserably and all I wanted to do every day was get drunk and forget about it.  I wished for the ease and comfort of my old life which shamed me.

In the heart of my debilitating Post Partum era I had to make the decision to stop socializing in order to start getting well.  My friends had always been a huge part of my life; especially recently – in say the last 10 years – when my mom and I had our falling out and many of my family sided with her.  At 22-years-old I felt alone and betrayed by those who were supposed to love me unconditionally.  Sure I had other family members that I was close to, but that is a story for a different day.  Or one that may stay private forever.

At that time I was forced to turn to my friends for love, guidance and support.  My friends became my family.  Sometimes I probably leaned on my friends too much.  I knew that and tried to respect their boundaries.  I had friends that would invite me over for Thanksgiving and Easter.  It made my heart burst with love that even though I was alone (which I wasn’t, I just felt that way) that I wasn’t alone.  I was loved.

Making the decision to stop socializing was in a way abandoning my family, those friends who were my family now.  My fremily. :)   There was an even bigger hole inside me now.  A hole I needed to learn to fill with love for myself.  It was very hard for me to face this obstacle all alone.  I’m not good with alone.

I can’t thank those friends enough who continuously reached out to me even though I constantly declined plans or was unreliable – even if it was just a text message to say hello.  Just to let me know they cared.  I knew that if I continued on the destructive path I was on I would never get well.  I had to make my health front and center.  I had to face it head on.

And now here I am 6 months later.  I’m happier and healthier.  But.  I have damaged friendships.  I have no social life.  Now, as with my yin and yang personality, I have done the complete opposite and refused to leave my house.  I mean, I go to work, Target, the gym, but as far as meeting up with friends – I decline.

Making plans?  I just don’t bother.  I make excuses about doctor appointments.  I’m not lying – I do have these appointments, but the truth is I’m scared.  I’m scared of who I am now.

Have I become old and boring?  I don’t get shit faced anymore or dance on bars…I kind of don’t even know how to be fun anymore.  Will my friends even still like me?  I have some major social anxiety going on, too.  Like I don’t even know what to talk about with my friends anymore.  I could sit and stare at them and have nothing to say.  The old me would have been drunk and laughing up a storm about whatever thing I was babbling about.  Now I have nothing to say.  It’s not that I have nothing to say.  I’m just afraid to say it.

I also want to spend as much time with Eva as humanly possible considering I miss 40 hours a week of her development so I can’t bring myself to be away from her for even one night.  It’s bad enough I miss all day.  Our life is so simple now.  There’s no drama.  It’s dolls and Legos…it’s walks to the park and reading books.  It’s easy.  It’s safe.

I’m in the cocoon I surrounded myself in for protection which has ultimately had the exact opposite effect on me.  It is equally unhealthy, and I need to change.  Before I was going out too much and running away from my responsibilities and now I refuse to make time for myself and my friends for fear of missing even one second of Eva’s growth and change.

UGH!  How do I find balance?

Balance is the key.  I imagine that many mothers feel this way and struggle with this very issue.  My new challenge is finding balance; it’s finding time for me alone, time for me and my husband, time for me and my daughter.  And time with friends gets pushed to the backburner.  There just is no time.  There’s never enough time.

I’m striving to get to a place where I feel comfortable in all aspects of my life, where I stop feeling the constant guilt that has engulfed me for the past year.  Is that even possible?  Or has mom guilt set in and thus will be the rest of my life?  Or at least until Eva is 18 or 25 and I can have my own life again.

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