Post Boom

Friday night was a tough night for me.  The boom had been lowered in the afternoon and I expected little to no reaction from her.  Or if there was some reaction, I was hoping for her to be sad and perhaps a little bit of pleading that she wouldn't do it again or something along those lines.  Instead she walked over to the closet, opened up the doors to see empty bookshelves, told me I was rude (no big deal) and then said, "Oh here's a book that you forgot." in this snotty sing songy tone of voice.  Gotta love it.

That night I just had this sinking feeling that I'm losing her, already at age 6.  I talked to V. about it, my fears, frustrations, and had a good sob.  These constant problems are taking a toll on our relationship, at least on my side.  She's so Jekyll and Hyde that one minute she can be flipping out and fifteen minutes later, she's hugging on me.  For me, it's hard to let it go especially after 3 months of what feels like daily problems over the same stupid things.  By the end of the day, I just want her in bed NOW because I'm done, I've used all my patience for the day and if I don't get her in bed NOW, I'm risking losing my temper. Of course, when V. is here and I'm not juggling trying to keep D. out of trouble as I'm trying to get I.'s hair washed and books read to her, it's not a big deal and I don't feel that same sense of urgency, that I'm about to lose it.  This is why there is no way I could ever handle another child.

The weekend brought better behavior from I. and I thought she seemed more relaxed, affectionate, and happy.  Go figure!  This morning was the worst school morning we've had in over a year.  As usual, in her room she had gotten out 5 different games with millions of pieces along with a bunch of other stuff and then waited to start putting it away.  She kept coming downstairs to get a plastic bag for this and that and while I can admire the effort, I would tell her how much time was left until we left.  I guess she didn't really listen (big surprise there) because it came to the time when we needed to leave and not only was she not done, she wasn't fully dressed and hadn't eaten breakfast.  I didn't get mad about it since she's the one who was going to receive consequences from it (tardy slip).  Of course, she came downstairs and started blaming me for her lateness (I should have told her to clean up, I shouldn't have made her clean up etc.).  I handed her breakfast to eat in the car and got in the car to wait for her because she had forgotten her socks.  By the time we got to school everyone was already in the classrooms so we had to get a tardy slip for the first time for her to take to her teacher.  She asked what it was and I explained what it was and that it counted against the behavior grade.  We get to the closed door of her classroom and she starts saying she doesn't want to go to school, she's not going into her class until I finally had to open the door up, get her teacher's attention, have her come out and get I.  As long as I was there, I. was not going to get better so I left.

Now it's time to go get here and I'm hoping that her day got progressively better and that perhaps she will have learned her lesson not to take out a bazillion toys at once in her room.  We'll see.

Happy Moments

D.'s birthday was great. He enjoyed so much and all of his sisters were there which was a real treat. I made it through in one piece - the anticipation of it and remembering what was going on a year ago leading up to his birth day is worse than the actual day. Today I finally took down the decorations and felt the painful tug all over again. But then I thought about how happy he was at his party and how excited he is every day to play with his new toys.

On D.'s actual birthday we went to the beach and had a nice morning there.

Later that week, we had a birthday playdate with a friend of D.'s from music class. They played next to each other and it was fun to see them squeal at each other.

Yesterday I took I. out for the morning for some special time. We went bowling, then bought some school shoes for her, followed up with lunch at Souplantation which we both enjoy. It was a really fun time.

While we were eating, I. said, "This feels strange." What was odd was I was thinking something along the same line so I knew exactly what she meant.  I said, "It's strange because D. isn't with us." And she agreed that that was exactly what it was. It's amazing that something so new now feels like the new normal and when he isn't with us, it just doesn't feel right. She said she missed him and I asked if we should hurry up and finish eating so we could get back home to see him and she agreed. That makes this semi-new mother of two so happy.

Emotional Hangover

Tired today.  Some of it is due to D. waking up at 4:50am, some of it is left over from last week.  A lot was going on.  Long story short, my mom had to go to the ER for a blood transfusion after losing so much blood due to female issues that she couldn't catch her breath, her heart was racing and she felt faint.  She waited far too long and could have died if she had waited much longer.  She was scheduled last week for a procedure that  should stop the bleeding permanently but after the doctor got in there, she didn't like what she saw, took a biopsy, and ended the procedure.  Last week was spent worrying that the biopsy would come back as cancerous and also dealing with the fact that regardless, my mom would have to have at the very least her uterus removed.

Thankfully the test came back negative and I was able to find some good information about the latest in hysterectomies, a robotic device that reduces recovery time and blood loss.  My mom was thankful for the info and this week will be calling to make an appointment to go to one of the doctors who performs it.  I'm going to try to attend just to help with asking questions.  Unfortunately, the other phone call my mom has to make is to the insurance company to find out how much they will cover.  Of course, with my dad being out of work for a year now, finances are a huge concern.  They are already worried about the bill coming for the ER visit and transfusion and now if they have to cover even a percentage of the surgery itself, it may be sizable.  My mom wants to put it off if possible until my dad gets a job which is not a good idea since if she starts bleeding badly, she'll be back in for a transfusion and forced to get the surgery.

V. and I are not rolling in the dough over here with two monthly child support payments and private tuition on one salary.  However, what is the health of my mom and having her around worth?  It's priceless of course.  So yesterday I brought up their thinking about the postponement of the surgery due to the money and asked V. what he thought about helping them take care of the bill.  Without blinking, he said, "How could we not?"  For all of his "backward" emotions at times, he is unfailingly generous and I love him for it.

Speaking of  "backward" emotions, I left out most of mine in this post.  Part of me is still emotionally spent from last week and I can't delve into those emotions deeply; my reserves just feel depleted still.  Suffice it to say that last week brought up memories and emotions that I hadn't felt since Mark - the fear, sadness, loss, the chaotic feeling of not being able to do anything and the frustration and anger that results from all of these things.  I was wiped out on Saturday and now today with too little sleep, it weighs down on me like an emotional hangover.

Spittin' Mad or Just Plain Hurt

Yesterday was a rough day in a couple of ways. First of all, D. was extra fussy from the morning all the way til midnight. Lots of patience, lots of boob. As a result of the lots of boob and the way D. nurses, one of my nipples is so bruised and sore that latching him on sends me to the moon and not in a good way. I've spent some time tonight watching latching videos to try to remedy this because I am in pain. Hopefully, I can put the info tips to good use and fix this sooner rather than later.

The other part of yesterday that was also out of my control. V.'s exwife's older sister was in town to visit her son who just moved here this month. The whole family is from New York and he went to school with this sister so he invited her and her son over for a BBQ at our place. I was totally cool with that. Then his exwife says she is going to drive down with the girls and come to the BBQ. Okay, so that's a little weird kind of, but okay.

So here is how the disaster began. I. was so looking forward to her sisters coming over and patience in a 5 year old is very limited resulting in her asking constantly, "When are they coming?" Well they piled in an hour and a half late and when they piled in, there wasn't 5 of them, there were 8 people. On top of that, they pile into my home and the people I haven't met before don't bother to say hello to me or introduce themselves so I know who the hell they are.

Then they had brought a container of margaritas that I didn't even know about and proceeded to pour them out for everyone of the age except for me since I was upstairs with D. But when I came down no one still offered me any or had poured me one for when I came back downstairs. V. and I proceeded to work our butts off even though I wasn't supposed to be doing anything on my feet to help with healing. I didn't mind helping V. but it was just annoying to me that no one even offered to help. They just sat there drinking and talking with each other, not even including us in the convo. I mean, I don't expect my guests to work but come on, I just had a kid so an offer would have been appreciated.

Now everyone was eating and socializing. I on the other hand, was feeding I. dinner, then feeding D, grabbing I. for bath and bed, then switching to get D. for bath. It was kind of ridiculous. I hadn't eaten lunch because they were supposed to be there at 2pm and now I'm not even getting dinner. Everyone else was having fun and I'm like the fucking nanny (after being sous chef), running around taking care of the kids while all the adults have fun. It sucked. And it hurt. Part of me being upstairs with the kids was because when I was downstairs, I was basically ignored and it made me so uncomfortable. I felt like I was on V.'s team helping him with preparation and such and then he just ditched me. I didn't expect him to be doing the kid duties since this was his social circle of people. What I did expect was for him to pour me a margarita and make sure there was a plate of food for me to eat. You know, take care of me. Look out for me since I was having to look out for our kids and put them first.

Then after I went upstairs with D. everyone took off without saying goodbye even though I was just down there to get D. It was just so disappointing to me because I really was looking forward to the party at least for the entertainment value. I had even thought up some questions to ask since I tend to get tonguetied with people I don't know. And to be treated and excluded like the hired help in my own home was beyond hurtful.

As I sat on the ground, chewing on the leftovers for my dinner, I told V. how I felt because although he had figured out I was upset, he didn't know why. I think he got it but true to form, he found it difficult to physically comfort me (a hug, a kiss) or to verbally acknowledge it and empathize with me. He didn't disagree with me though so I know he knew what I said was true. And later on, when I was tearing up, he told D. "Let's go sit next to Mommy." and he moved over and sat down up against me which is unusual. That made me feel better but still the hurt lingers. I know it touched something deep down from high school times and something that continues to plague me.

Let's just say that I can see why V. is no longer married to the exwife. Her and her sister may be entertaining in an obnoxious way but the selfishness, self-centeredness, and no consideration for anyone else is very evident. Being married to that would be exhausting and you would have to constantly be looking out for yourself because they certainly wouldn't.

Well, had to get that out so I can move on. Now I need to relax and get ready for the last feeding of D. Hopefully tonight will be uneventful and I will get some sleep.

Down the Toliet

I finally download the San Fran pictures off the camera and was all ready to post about it when everything went down the pot. Or rather, didn't go down the pot.

Minor issue in the scheme of things was that I. out of the blue decided to start peeing in her pants again. No, we haven't told her about the baby so it's not a reversion back. There is nothing that has changed in the last week. It's just her usual M.O. of just getting lazy about going to the bathroom. Yes, I understand there will be accidents here and there. That's not what I'm talking about. What I am talking about is her wetting through 3 different outfits while we are at home within striking distance of 3 toliets. There is no excuse for it. She's 5 years old and is physically able to be potty trained as evidenced by a month plus of being dry. I've tried all the rewards programs, the psychological strategies - God knows I've had time to go through all them, we've been potty training since June 2009. Nothing has really worked so this time I thought long and hard and decided with her 6th birthday approaching this year and full-time kindergarten looming in September, the mean Momma was going to have to dole out some serious consequences. We talked about them and lo and behold, she was dry for 3 days straight until she wasn't, yesterday. So the consequences came down this morning and she's not too happy about it. Well, don't pee in your pants when you're next to a toilet and the consequences won't come down.

The major issue with things going down the pot, or not going down the pot, is that on Wednesday night before she went to bed, I. flushed the toliet and without anyone realizing it, it stopped up and began slowly overflowing. It did that for 14 hours until the next morning when I went in there and needless to say, it was a flood. The bathroom was underwater and a good 6 feet of I.'s bedroom carpet was like a swamp. Then last night, we went into the downstairs bedroom and saw this:

So needless to say instead of heading to Sea World for the day, we will be welcoming a water damage company in our home to begin the process of drying us up, tearing things up, and preventing future mold. Sounds like a great project to me! I haven't even finished up the auto insurance claim that continues to drag on and now it appears I'll have a new insurance claim to enjoy. All the phone calls, messages, forms, etc. Wow, I'm so excited.

What a mess. I woke up at 2am to go the bathroom and ended up not falling back to sleep for an hour because I was worried the ceiling would start falling downstairs. Ugh. Maybe it'll go smoother than I anticipate, I really hope so.

The 3 F's

The sense of futility, frustration, and failure hangs heavy in the humid air this morning. Before 8:15 am. I was in tears, feeling unloved and unappreciated by my daughter. The one that just 5 years ago, I carried in my body and was so looking forward to meeting.

I thought I was a good mom but with the behavior I've been seeing for the past month, I must have been doing it all wrong for a very long time. I just don't get it. I haven't been treating her like she's the middle of the universe, she's a part of the family. I have been consistent with her discipline and teaching her what is and is not acceptable, she knows it. But this summer she's been trying to turn into a little tyrant and that's been the battle the whole freaking summer. Everything, no matter how small, she has to make it into a fight with me. Going to the bathroom - NO. So three times a day she pisses in her underwear.

And if something big and fun isn't on the day's agenda, then she'll throw a tantrum first thing in the morning. This morning, her underwear were inside out and she threw them at me and said, "YOU fix them. I'm not fixing them." This is NOT how I have been raising this child. I feel like I have been doing the hard work, not taking the easy road of just letting her do what she wants but now it seems like I am sowing nothing but defiance and disrespect.

It feels like all I do is punish because I don't think I should let these instances pass without consequences. In between, I give love and physical affection to try to balance it out but it still feels like I'm just mean momma every day, every second. It exhausts me and breaks my heart and after over a month of this, it's breaking my spirit.

Speaking of a Perfect Storm

Brutal day of mothering so far and it's only 2pm so there's still plenty of more time for fun. The perfect storm began this morning gathering up churning waves, dark clouds, and high winds in our house today and officially hit land at 1:30 this afternoon.

I think I. has been again fighting off a virus for a few days now which does not help improve attitude and really, I have been trying to take that into account. Here's how the perfect storm grew and grew:

1. When I went to pick her up at the gym, she ignored me and then refused to stand up to walk to the kids' club bathroom (she said she had to go). This is the third day in a row of this crap.
2. My shoulder is absolutely killing me even when I'm not moving; a direct result of the last 3 days of I. refusing to stand up to do something and just throwing herself down like deadweight. 24/7 acute pain due to one certain person is a hard thing to keep moving on from.
3. When I had a salesperson over here for 20 minutes after lunch, she kept interrupting and whining like a brat.
4. She proudly wet her underwear not once but twice already today. Obviously losing television time is not enough consequence for her to stop doing it. Just another area of discipline I feel I'm failing in.
5. The straw was when it was time for resttime and she talked back to me in the most snotty fashion and that was it. The straw - the big fat proverbial straw.

And I lost it. Not my finest moment but I grabbed her and yelled that she had to stop talking back to me, that I was sick of it, and I wasn't putting up with it anymore. Like any of that matters to her, I know but after literally 3 weeks of this shit, day in and day out, without a break, you know I'm human. I picked her up, put her in the crib (thank God she's still in that), put her sippy cup of milk and some books in there and told her if she talked to me like that, I wasn't going to give her the milk or read books to her, I didn't want to be around someone who talked like that to me and then I walked out.

To say that she got upset is an understatement. Things were launched out of the crib like it was a foxhole, screaming and much crying ensued but after 5-10 minutes, things quieted down and I hear her turning the pages as she looks through books. Meanwhile, I've taken a shower, made myself an iced coffee, iced my shoulder for a few minutes of pain relief, read a bit in a magazine, and got out a parenting book to find a better tactic for next time when she talks back to me. Which will probably be as soon as I walk into her room...grrrr. The basis of the plan is no emotion and she's going to spend time apart from me in her room. If she is disrespectful towards me, she doesn't get to be around me - bottom line.

The bad part of that plan is that I'm going to have to lug her up 2 flights of stairs because she's not going up there by herself, I know that for a fact. This is not going to be conducive for my shoulder getting better but I'm out of choices being the only one here. I'd willingly sacrifice my shoulder for nipping this disrespect and brattiness in the bud.

I asked my mother if I had a problem with talking back at this age or ever for that matter because I never remember doing it but you know, I had a different perspective. My mother seemed shocked and said that I didn't. That doesn't make me feel better.

Not A Great Weekend

Ah, Monday. Back to the normal grind and in some ways, it's a relief. That makes me sad since our normal weekly grind doesn't included V. and that's not the point at all. I like it when V. is here especially after we get I. to bed, it's nice to have the company and other stuff that we won't mention. Barbecuing and eating dinner outside just the two of us is really a great way to cap off the weekend. When we go to the gym, we get to work out side by side which is a nice change and being the sick, critical people we are, there is always someone there that makes it on our radar. Mind you, we're not making fun of how people look or stuff like that. Usually it's those people who sit on the gym equipment and talk for 15 minutes at a time. Those people drive V. nuts and gives me an opportunity to tease him. Unfortunately there is also a woman who is there on the weekends who could be Jodi's doppleganger and I get pissed off all over again when I see her. But I digress...

So that's the part of weekend I like. The part that I detest, I mean REALLY DETEST, is how I. acts much of the weekend lately. Putting the disastrous bathtime routine aside, if she is with V. alone, everything is great. If she's with me by herself, she's fine. But as soon as it's both of us, she gets whining, disobedient, and bratty. To me it feels like she ruins every weekend with her behavior because it feels like all we do is picking her up because she won't go to the bathroom, won't get in the car, etc. In between the picking up (which is NOT helping my shoulder one bit) is my escalating frustration that every single stinking little thing is a fight and that this is opposite of how things are during the week. And then the whole bathtime fight on top of all of it to look forward to at the end of the day. Plus add in the lack of potty training after 15 months. It's a perfect storm that leaves me wanting to walk out of this house every weekend and not come back til Monday.

I'm sure me struggling with some depression right now doesn't help me deal. It bums me out greatly to see all my momma friends on Facebook on Friday saying, "Yay, Friday! Can't wait for family fun!" etc. etc. etc. Meanwhile, on Fridays, I'm trying not to dread the weekend. Things have got to change and I've got to get some ideas on what dynamics are leading to this and how to fix it.

You've Got to Be Fucking Kidding Me Part 2

I woke up this morning not feeling too great after a late night, emotional drama, that extra drink, and the knowledge that today is The Day. I was tearing up as I put my pajamas on but pulled it together to get I. up and fed.

I had just sat down for breakfast when the phone rang and I answered it, thinking it was V. calling us back. It wasn't. It was my dad who tells me that his esteemed friend and mentor who he has been working for unceremoniously eliminated his position yesterday and threw him out on the street. Oh yeah, please send the laptop back too while you're at it.

To say that my dad is crushed doesn't even scratch the surface. He is panicked and hurt beyond words. He trusted this guy and worked for pennies because he was promised another position and stock in the company. This is the third time this has happened to him. This is the third time I've gotten one of these phone calls from him. Sobbing his heart out, saying they'll lose the house, he's a 63 year old loser, etc. On today, of all days. He needs my help updating his resume and I need to do it now because I'm leaving on vacation soon. I will be calling him back in an hour to see what edits he needs. I fully anticipate that this will be another emotional phone call. I am worried about him because I think they are probably not in good shape financially and my father has his value as a person defined by what he has been able to provide for his family.

My stomach is in knots, my blood pressure feels like it's sky high, I am light headed. I'm having to seal all this off into a compartment so that I can still function as a full-time mother and this "act" is making me feel like I'm losing my mind. If it wasn't so horrible, it would be ridiculous, utterly and absolutely ridiculous.

Buried Alive

My MRI for my shoulder was this afternoon. I had to ask a friend of mine to watch I. because the girl I use now and then for babysitting wasn't available. I dropped I. off and headed over to the appointment.

I should have put two and two together when the MRI questionnaire asked if I was claustrophobic but since I'd had one for my back done about 16 years ago without incident, I didn't think anything of it and certainly didn't want to state a weakness that may not even come into play.

I got changed into a gown and went into the room and that's where the trouble began. When I had the MRI on my back, my lower body was put into the tube but my head was not. In the past, claustrophobia has only been a fleeting problem. However, since Mark has died, it has intensified significantly. It's been getting better the last few months. Earlier this year, if I was in the car on a one lane freeway turn-off with cars in front and in back of me, I'd start getting panicky like there was no way to escape. And when V. and I went to a concert in LA last August and we were trying to make our way out and everyone started backing up, I had a really hard time staying calm and had to look up into the night sky to make it through the crush.

I laid down, not too concerned, confident that I could make it through. But when you get a shoulder MRI, they have to put you all the way inside the tube. When you're completely inside, there's no room for your arms to move to the side without hitting the side of the tube and worst of all, the ceiling of the tube is a matter of inches above your face.

He pushed me inside the tube and even though my eyes were covered, I could feel the top of the tube right above me. I tried to stay calm but I started to panic and said, "I don't know if I can do this, I don't know if I can do this." so he pulled me back out and asked if I was feeling anxious in there. Silent tears began spilling out of my eyes and I said, "My best friend died not that long ago and my anxiety is still really high. It feels like a coffin in there."

I took a few moments to take some deep breaths as he told me that I could make another appointment, have someone drive me and take a Xanax or two beforehand -that's what lots of people did to make it through the MRI. His voice was background noise as I remembered how I had to arrange for someone to take care of I. and how tough I used to be back in my martial artist days.

That's when I decided to try again. I wiped my tears away and decided if I was going to raise I. to be a tough girl, I would have to go back to be one too. I let him roll me back into the tube to start the test with a "rip cord" in my hand - all I had to do is squeeze it to make it all stop. But I didn't. I concentrated on my breathing, willed my mind to memories of I. being born, the early days, funny memories with my father, what V. and I could do on Friday, what needed to be packed etc. And I stayed in there for over 20 minutes. The noise was deafening and by the end of the test, my head was pounding, my mouth dry, and my bowels liquefied.

But I made it through. It wiped me out but I made it through and I'm proud of myself.

A Day

Today was a day - some laughs, some crying, some getting things off of chests, and of course some insanity. Your basic emotional roller coaster that I could seriously do without. I can't wait to see what night terrors my subconscience puts together tonight as it attempts to process this day. I'll try to be succinct.

This afternoon was my sister's birthday celebration. Does it make me a horrible person to say it's hard to celebrate anything about her? Part of me feels guilty and part of me looks at the toll it has taken on my mother and how she's caused my parents to be out of my and I.'s life for the past year and then I don't feel guilty at all, I just feel mad.

First the getting things off chests, my sister was telling me how much she was working out in the gym and was showing me her muscles. She kept going on about it til I couldn't take it and I said, "That's good you're going taking care of yourself but how is the job search going?" Then she started talking about a possibility at Walmart from 11pm-8am blah-blah-blah and I could feel my mother tensing up but I wasn't sure why UNTIL my sister makes a comment about my parents taking her to work at 10:45pm every night and then picking her up first thing in the morning. I said, "Maybe you should get a moped or something to get you there." She gave me this disdainful look like I was out of my fucking mind and said sarcastically, "I should just get a bicycle then." I said, "That's even better because then you could get a workout in before and after work." She gave me this snotty look which caused the gloves to come off. I told her that she needed to get a job and start being an adult because I was tired of watching my mom stressing out and getting all these health problems as a result. It's been the same story about "looking" for a job for 5 years and there's always an excuse and I was tired of it. Later she acted like it never happened and after all the drugs she's taken, maybe in her jacked-up mind, it never did.

Of course the insanity had to do with my sister. Namely the fact that yesterday she picked up a random snake by the side of the road, put it in her purse/bag and then took it to the library with her. She figured out later on, after she carried it with her the whole day, that it was a rattlesnake. What a moron. The usual overly loud, out of control laughter about nothing. When it was time to leave, I went to give her a hug (it was her birthday party for God's sakes) and she was laughing uproariously so while hugging, I asked her why and it turns out she had farted. She's 27 years old and she farted in the kitchen right next to me. Do I really need to say anything more?

The laughter part was related to the rattlesnake incident. My sister had text messaged my brother about the snake yesterday so one of her presents from him were frozen mice. He had told me beforehand so we were all howling when she started opening it. He has a funny sense of humor and I like that. That was the good part of the day.

The crying part was tonight after we got home. V. acted again today when we left my parents' house like I was annoying, just like he did on Saturday morning and it crushed me. We were in separate cars so I had the whole drive home to ruminate over it which is never a good thing. I really don't want to go into the details but leave it said that I'm not in a great place and have teared up several times tonight. I just feel like he doesn't like me very much, doesn't find me funny, and is distant again. He poopoos all of it but it doesn't change his behavior. All my old insecurities are popping up in a big way tonight and I'm desperately hoping that a night's sleep and a good family day tomorrow will help.

Putting It Behind Me

I think I'm suffering from a little version of PTSD after yesterday. Yesterday was NOT a good day in a variety of ways. It was like a buffet gone bad. A little of this, a little of that added up to a big pile of yuck. The underlying detail in all of it was that I. was so excited about my parents coming over that she was practically vibrating emotionally, making her a very negative and highly fragile "whack job".

First, I got up from the breakfast table to find that a disk had moved onto my sciatic nerve and I couldn't get it to go back where it should have been. Agony! I hobbled upstairs to get ready so that I could go to the chiropractor before the gym and I. decides this was a good time to melt down into a whiny, crying tantrum. When I told her to go to her room, she wouldn't so I with my back and shoulder pain, had to lug her to her room.

I'm lying on my stomach at the chiropractor in agony as she is trying to coax the disk back where it's supposed to be and I. gets on a chair I've told her repeatedly not to and falls off of it. Very little pain but it scared her and added to that "whack job" quality of the day, she starts screaming her full head off. Off the table I crawl, pick her up, and begin trying to console her but she's off and running and things are escalating (can you say "whack job"?). A quick visit to the bathroom accompanied by the issued threat of strapping her in the car seat and locking her in the car is met with immediate compliance.

Finally the back gets fixed and we're off to the gym. That's when I. decides to turn up the aggravation factor and whine the entire ride that she's hungry. She's hungry because she was too excited to eat all her breakfast so now that has to be dealt with. At the gym, I somehow located all 4 of the 30 treadmills that aren't working before I finally find a working one. Not helping.

Afterwards, I. is too excited to finish her lunch, meaning that I'm going to have to deal with that yet AGAIN before the day is over. My parents get to the house and leave within 2 hours, leaving a whirlwind of mess in the living room and a hungry, exhausted 4 year old. She finally eats a good sized meal and is helping me make my dinner for later (something we both enjoy doing) and things are going well until I tell her she's not old enough to stir the ingredients in a hot skillet. This after she almost touched the side of it trying to stir after I told her not to. Normally, it wouldn't have been a big deal but on par for the day, she throws herself on the floor shrieking and screaming at the top of her lungs. Basically, she just came completely unhinged and it was all I could do to get her upstairs to the bath.

That's when I called my friend Terry to tell him "Good God Almighty! I am so capital-D-O-N-E, DONE!" and he distracted me enough with humor and perspective that I was good after 10 minutes. Thank God for friends.

I won't even comment on the cat crap issue that took place at 11pm. Nothing like cleaning that up right before going to sleep. On the humorous side, I came down from putting I. to bed, I checked in on the butterflies and there were 2 sets of copulating butterflies with the odd man out butterfly fluttering around like crazy. Poor thing!

Hoping for a better day today... need to let yesterday go and wipe the slate clean. Easier said than done.

Mood Hijacking

You wanna know how you can go from feeling content and happy to annoyed and really bummed out all in one short hour? You call my mom for the weekly check-in phone call and listen to her non-stop hour long monologue filled with meaningless, countless details of stories about my sister and brother. Stories that my mom labels as "funny" when in reality, they are perfect examples of how ill equipped both of them are to independently function in life. Stories that illustrate what happens when you constantly rescue your child from any and all consequences of their poor actions. And she wonders out loud why they don't learn the lessons and stop the behavior. I've only been a mother for 4+ years and even I have figured that one out.

You know, I'm sorry, I just don't find it funny anymore. It's like a broken record and not only am I tired of it, I'm tired of ME paying the consequences. Like not being able to see my parents during the week, during the daytime hours - the only hours I can see them because I HAVE A YOUNG CHILD IN MY HOUSE. They don't, but they act like they do and that is beyond annoying to me.

So I told my mom that the stories weren't funny to me because they were just going to be another thing that was going to be stressing her out down the road because she keeps bailing him out and solving all his problems for him. I could tell she blew me off because she just changed the topic to move on to when was V. going to not be home for the weekend so that we could see each other. Because, as stated before, they can only visit with me and I. on the weekends because of my 26 year old deadbeat loser of a sister. So just as soon as I finally have my hubby back a little, they want to know when he's going to be gone so they can visit. That's beyond stupid and pisses me off.

After an hour that seemed like two, I had to go get I. out of the gym's kid center so I was able to terminate the conversation. Did my mom ask anything about I. or my life? How was our weekend? What did we do as a family? How are things going? Nope, not one fucking thing.

And that's how a mood gets hijacked. Now the hard part is getting it back to where it was before. I'll let you know if I discover any helpful hints on that along the way.

Not Horrible But Not Good

I'm in that place where nothing is REALLY horrible but EVERYTHING is not good. Ever been there?!

There really is not any terrible going on. Noone has died, at least lately, my family and I are alive and healthy. It's just everything else that is frustrating me.

Let's go through the checklist.

• Chronic Pain: shoulder dislocating and aching again; need to start PT again.
• Marriage: hubby still not communicating, apologizing, interacting, parenting.
• Parenting: having tantruming, minding, backtalking issues. Could or could not be caused by father's absence; regardless, frustrating for mother to deal with constantly.
• Family: narcissitic addict of a sister finding my phone number and contacting me Sat.; called again today
• Personal: approaching my 40th bday this Saturday; dreams of my best friend who died last July at 39 reoccurring

It's a hard time right now. I'm looking forward to all the plans I have in place for this weekend. I may be teased about planning everything out but at least I know I won't miss something I could have enjoyed. My free time off is so limited right now that I need to capture every opportunity or I won't get a chance until months from now.

I just wish my last week of my 30's could be a happier one. I would have imagined that my life would be so much more perfect at this point in my life. In many ways, it is SO much more stable. Ten years ago, I just started to have a relationship in sight, certainly no kids in sight. I hoped for both and now I have both. Yet, two years ago, things were much more certain and tangible before this 14 month assignment in the Middle East and a looming China assignment in the near future. Distance does not make the heart grow fonder; it just makes 2 people have to figure out how to live life separately in order to make it through. While it may be doable, it's not healthy. On top of it, we are not military so we do not have the resources or support to help us figure out how to do this.

Now my sister snoopes around for my phone number and starts calling me. I don't need this now, I will not accept this now. I missed her phone call (the second one) today but if she calls again, I will tell her that I don't have time to speak on the phone these days ('cause I don't) and if she presses I will tell her more than that. What more than that I'm not sure.

All I do know is that I'm done with the bullshit for this week and it's only Tuesday. Either get with the program or prepare to deal with the consequences.

It's One of Those Days

You know that day that begins with you looking in the mirror in the morning and saying to yourself, "I HAVE to wash my hair tonight." And that very same day, walking very slowly back into that same bathroom after putting the child(ren) to bed, looking into that very same mirror and saying to yourself as you shake your head, "I just don't have it in me, it'll have to wait 'til tomorrow." Yeah, that's today for me. I wonder if it would look odd tomorrow to don the Middle Eastern red and white turban that V. brought home with him and cover my hideously filthy hair? If I don't get some real sleep tonight I just might do it.

Which leads me to my next point which is really the driving force behind this post and my ongoing dirty hair saga. I'm not getting the sleep I need! I. was sick beginning last Friday so there were a couple of nights where she woke up with diarrhea and I was more than happy to take care of it. HOWEVER, since then, she has decided that it is grand to start calling and crying in the middle of the night instead of turning over and going to sleep. On top of this, V. has gotten up very early the last 2 days to go to work and I suspected that I. was seeing the light from downstairs and it was leading her to reach the erroneous conclusion that we ALL need to be getting up in the middle of the night. The night before last, she was up crying 5 times and as a result, I was up from 1:30-5 am. She fell back asleep around 3 but I was still so wired and anticipating what was going to happen when V. opened up the garage door that I couldn't fall back asleep. So that night I got 2 hours before the torture began and about 2.5 hours after before she started calling for me again in the morning.

I thought I had the problem solved last night when I troubleshot the whole situation and came up with the following 2 solutions:

1. V. was only allowed to use the lights that had dimmer switches on them and then only at the lowest level without him eating in the dark.
2. I put a folded up towel along the bottom edge of I.'s door so that no light would be visible from under it.

No such luck - I. began crying right before 5 am and when I went in there she announced that she wasn't tired. Well, being that my best sleep, really my only decent sleep, takes place after 4:30am, I wasn't really very thrilled to hear this pronouncement. I gave her some books to look at in bed, told her I loved her, that I for one was VERY tired and I would see her in the morning when it was time to actually get up. Then I walked out. As you might expect she didn't take too kindly to my point of view and began screaming and crying. I thanked my lucky stars that V. had already left for the airport because he NEVER would have made it through a long, prolonged crying session. I'm of course just a heartless bitch so I told myself that she was safe albeit very unhappy and proceeded to put on those BOSE noise cancelling headphones that V. gave me for Christmas that I wondered when in the world I would use them. Well, here's the answer, I used them this morning and they worked well enough for me to relax, doze off and even grab a little sleep for the next 1.5 hours so that I could at least partially function today. Just call me Mean Momma...

When I went in to get her, the first thing I. says to me is,"What was that light I saw over there?" and she points to her door. I ask her to show me where she is talking about and she scrunches down to the very corner edge of the door and points. I look around the edge of the door to see where is that damn towel and it appears that there was a 1/4 inch gap between the towel and the door which must have let in that pinprick of light from the ultra-dimmed lights this morning which caused another torturous morning.

I don't really need to tell you how meticulous I will be about that damn towel tonight, do I? V.'s gone for the next 2 weeks so I'm hoping, with my fingers, toes, legs, and eyes crossed that without anybody creeping around in the dead of night, maybe we can get I. out of this habit, this energy sapping, mind altering habit. For all of our sakes, I really hope so.

It's Been Awhile

Yes, I haven't posted for awhile, my bad. Partly because V. has been home and actually awake for the early half of the nights so we've been catching up on TIVO'd shows and some movies we've been saving. Partly because I.'s behavior has been so challenging that I'm left exhausted, defeated, and frustrated by the end of the day and I just do not feel like communicating. I'm so tired of attempting to adequately communicate (and many times failing) throughout the day to I. that I have no desire to do so after she goes to bed.

Just as her behavior worsened when V. initially left, it's worsened since he's been back. I guess it's just an adjustment period but it's certainly a painful one for me. Most days, I. is defiant whenever I ask her to do anything and when I push it, she throws a tantrum. I may have patience for one or two instances but after that, I really get tired of it. I need a break and even though I have a 2 day break coming up at the end of this month, with the daily barrage, I don't know if I'm going to make it til then. I mean, I'll make it but I don't know how pretty it's gonna be.

Although V. is home, this week he was gone and he'll be gone for the next 2 weeks though home for the weekends. This looks like how it's going to be until he leaves full time for China. So much for good quality family time...in this economy, I guess we're just thankful to have a paycheck.

I got an email from Mark's mom telling me that she believes that I knew Mark better than anyone including herself and she would be grateful if I would be willing to get together with her and give her some insight into who he really was. My first thought was how honored I was, followed closely by a sadness that his mother realizes that due to family dysfunctional, she may not have known her son. I do want to get together with her, I think Mark would want that, I just want to figure out what I want to say and how to say it. Do I show her the real side of Mark through some of his letters or just through my memories? That's really my only question.

Trying Not To Think Too Much

Thinking too much is never a good thing, at least when it comes to me. Overthinking leads to erroneous conclusions that can only make me feel bad. Knowing that, I am trying to not overthink but it is difficult.

This morning, we finally gave the girls their purses, you know the $200 ones that caused a fight and have been sitting in the bedroom since before Christmas as a constant reminder. Yeah, THOSE purses. It's actually a relief because now I can move on. However, there's a little problem. The problem being that I communicated last week (as I was counseled) that it hurts when V. doesn't make me feel special. I gave the example of how he brought everyone else a gift from Saudi Arabia (even himself) except me. All I got out of Saudi Arabia was a 14 month missing piece of my life and a marriage battered by the experience. It makes me want to get that printed on a shirt to wear around the house but that would be highly passive aggressive so in the best interest of all involved, I'll refrain.

Okay, so with that little backstory from last week and the fact that while in Saudi, V. was able to get online and make sure the purses were ordered, here's the little problem - he didn't get me anything for Christmas. Yes, he sent flowers with a stuffed animal to I. and I at Christmas time and I loved them. In fact, I made those flowers last for 3 weeks and lugged them out and back from Palm Desert. So, it's not that I wasn't grateful for them - I was. It's just that last week, he came back to a bunch of Christmas and birthday presents plus a nice Christmas dinner and this week, the girls got their motherload of gifts (there was more besides the purses). We spent over $500 on their gifts and I sat there last week and this week and got nothing.

I'm struggling with beating myself up for sounding petty, childish, and selfish. But I'm not supposed to do that if the feeling is a normal human and quite valid feeling. So I'm trying to just let myself be but it's hard because if I just let myself "be", I'm quite hurt and angry. I don't want to feel this way and I thought by going out on the limb and expressing my feelings along with a good example last week, this situation would have been avoided.

Being a mother, especially of a small child, is by nature a selfless job. It's her needs first all the time and especially when V. has been gone for over a year, my needs are not even on the radar. At some point though, enough is enough. I just don't really know exactly what to do about this. I mean, I already brought this topic up last week and nothing changed. What's the point of bringing it up again? You know what they say about insanity - it's doing the same thing over and over again and being surprised when the results aren't different. I guess that makes me insane because I really did expect the results would be different this time. My bad...

It Just Gets Weirder

V. told me last week when he got home that he would have to go into work one day a week during this time off. Since I. had speech therapy in the morning and we could get the grocery shopping out of the way too, I suggested that today would be the best day for V. to go into work. With everything that has been going on, it would give me a chance to get some breathing room and a break from the emotional onslaught.

He drove up to LA at 4am this morning saying he needed to have access to a scanner to send all his receipts - okay. He said he would be back by 6pm for dinner - okay. But here comes the weird part, at least for me. While I was taking I. to speech therapy, going grocery shopping, making meals, and playing with I. after her resttime, it turns out that after working in the morning, V. took off to his favorite Mexican place for lunch and then went to the movies by himself before coming home.

When he came home as I was fixing dinner and announced this, I have to say I was thrown off and not thrilled. I don't want to begrudge him this pleasure but part of me was pissed off. Pissed off because one, I feel like this is just another example of him trying to live life as an Individual rather than part of this Family; two, because I'm still raising our child without any freedom, break, emotional support, or escape; and three, because he was just able to pull it off without major consult with me, my parents, a babysitter, or his ex-wife which is about what it takes me to pull off any sort of escape. It must be fucking nice to be able to have a wife for sex, a kid for family and still have the freedom to be able to basically do what you want if you really want to.

I made a few comments and then tried to shut up. V. had made the comment yesterday when I was telling him how crappy he was acting that I "needed a massage" so I had decided to take him up on that. I called tonight to find out what appts. my favorite therapist had available (haven't seen her in over a year) and was going to ask V. if one of the days and times would work for him. Well, after hearing his day's fun, I said, "I WAS going to ask you if this day and time would be okay but since we're living as individuals, I'm TELLING you that I'm going to have a massage on this day and time and you'll need to take care of I."

It just sucks. You think maybe I might have wanted to see that 2 hr. 45 min. movie? Why am I only planning for things for the two of us to do when he's obviously able to piece together a fun date? Has he ever planned a date since we've been married? No. I think I've made things way too easy for him, always thinking he's working so hard for us so I should go out of my way to make things easy and special for him. I'm thinking that needs to change. I'm beginning to realize that he's a hard worker by nature - he's not working hard to provide for us but just because that's how he is. He needs to make more of an effort toward us not toward himself and his nature.

On the plus side, he was trying to make an effort at talking tonight when he got home. Unfortunately, I was trying to bite my tongue from sarcastic comments about his enjoyable afternoon to himself that I could not bring myself to compliment him on his effort. While he had a delicious, relaxing meal by himself and then enjoyed a long movie, I was wiping shit, dealing with a tantrum, having to answer endless questions, finalize tax returns, scan various 1099's to email to the tax man, make dinner, feed, bathe and bed a child. And according to him, I shouldn't feel angry, jealous, or upset that he was able to up and do whatever it was that he wanted to.

I've come to the conclusion that being the mother in this house is easily the hardest, most selfless and often shitty job. I've also decided that I need to demand in specific ways that V. steps up his efforts in this marriage because right now, he's just not cutting it.

ReEntry Is Hard

Yes, it's good to have the hubby home. Don't get me wrong, it is. But reentry is hard, damn hard.

First we have the time change issue. It's going okay but what's been difficult is the sleeping and low energy during the day and then him waking up around 10:30, right when I'm ready to go to bed. It causes me to stay up until 11:30/midnight, enjoying having company but leads to being tired the next day. The goal is to have him on our time zone not vice-versa.

Secondly, I. has been testing and being more defiant towards me since V.'s been home. Probably because he is not the disciplinarian in the household. This leads me to getting much more frustrated that things are not running as smoothly in the household and hating that I have to crack down more so than usual. I don't necessary mind being the bad guy (unless my spouse is playing the role of the permissive, good guy).

Thirdly, my workload has at least doubled and I'm not getting extra help so I'm feeling overwhelmed. Before I was able to keep up with the chaos and clutter but now it feels like two against one and I'm drowning. Lots of laundry, clutter, toys, trash and only me to run around trying to organize and keep up with. Not to mention, planning fun events and cooking daily meals. This has got to change.

Fourthly (is this a word?), it still feels like we're living separately, individually and I don't like it. I don't think V. feels it at all and that makes it worse. We went to the gym today and it was obvious that he wanted to work out alone, after all this time apart. Granted, even when we were living together full-time, he didn't appear to like working out together but he was walking more than a foot away from me today. WTF? He did get me flowers today and a card (which he didn't give me until tonight when I asked him where it was 'cause I saw it on the receipt) but when I came down this morning, he didn't even acknowledge me since he was busy on his Blackberry.

Things are going to have to come to a head I think. I'm tired of feeling so much less than special, just a side show in his life, not worthy of conversation or signs of affection. I go out of my way to make him feel treasured and loved, planning months in advance and then he won't even talk despite open-ended questions I lob at him. It just makes me feel less than. I know he loves me but he's either shut off, shut down, or just gotten plain lazy and it needs to change. If I bring up anything in criticism, he just shut downs and wants to move away, not conducive for positive change. I'm getting frustrated that unless I'm 100% positive and in favor with everything about him, he just shuts off and begins punishing me. How are we supposed to get things fixed and better if he does that every time? It makes me stressed out, depressed, scared, and negative about our relationship if I feel like we are never able to to discuss our relationship honestly without an impending punishment towards me. I hate conflict.

It doesn't help that now that Daddy is back that I. has launched into the "I love Daddy" bit and now she shows me hardly any affection and is very negative towards me and has the "I want Daddy" mentality. He gives her no discipline until he's angry and then I have to intervene and deal with that on top of everything else. V. doesn't understand how close I. and I were while he was gone, how we were a team. Remember, "I miss Daddy but I'm glad we have each other." ? Well, the past few days, that has SO fallen by the wayside and while I understand it logically, it hurts so much emotionally to deal with it throughout the day, day after day. Instead of it feeling like a family of three, it feels like now it's the 2 of them (though V. would rather be by himself) and I'm the odd man out. I kinda always feel like the odd man out but the last place I thought I would feel like the odd man out is within my own family and that makes me sad - a bone-deep kind of sad. If I don't fit in here, where can I possibly ever hope to fit in?

New Hope, Old Demons

It's only Wednesday but I have finally found out what the rest of my year will probably look like.

V. should be coming home mid-late week next week and won't have to go to China until 3/1. He told his boss he wanted the rest of February off and not coming out of his vacation time so that is great. I am a little skeptical that he won't be working at all for the month but am making a list of fun things to do so we have that to draw from. China is only to be until July when he will have a permanent position heading a business unit based in San Diego. So there is our chance at a normal life.

That's the good part - I have hope. The old demons arose this morning at the gym when I spoke with V. and he springs it on me that he and 2 other guys are going to Bahrain for the next 2 days. I'm totally taken by surprised since he's been there for 14 months and has never talked about Bahrain and now that he's coming home next week, he's going there? Bahrain is Saudi Arabia's Las Vegas as he explained it to me many months ago. Unfortunately for him I remembered that description and told him I wasn't too thrilled about him going over there now after we've been apart 10 weeks. Talk about crappy timing. It's not that I think he'll do anything concrete but the fact that he's going someplace with bars, nightclubs, and women when we've been apart for so long doesn't make me happy - AT ALL. I bit my tongue tonight and tried to stay as neutral as I could but my insecurities about the hits our marriage's foundation has taken these past 14 months and the fact that he's seen me 2-3 times in the last 10 weeks and always first thing in the morning (when I look like what the cat has barfed up) does not bolster my confidence that I will remain first and foremost in his mind in the midst of a bar scene. With my past experiences, this is the worst case scenario for me. My natural tendency is to distrust all men. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a man hater. In fact, they are my favorite creatures but it actually has made it worse as a woman because I really do know how they think and act. Great for hanging out with the guys, not so great to be married to a guy.

I don't even know what to say at this point. I guess I'll wait for the phone calls, go on with my days raising our daughter and maybe when he gets back, we'll discuss why he decided now to go to Bahrain of all times.