This vacation has been a toss up so far and we're halfway through now. We've had fun and the ocean water is wonderful - warm and that turquoise blue. I've been able to read in the evening outside listening to the waves which has been nice. The bad part has been that all my fears about I. having a difficult time with the time change were right on target. I know my daughter. She's not the kid who just goes to sleep when she is completely wiped out and done for the day. She's the one that goes literally balls to the wall until she can't. And "can't" doesn't mean go to sleep. "Can't" means she loses it emotionally. She cannot handle anything, not one more thing. My description of this is "emotional whack job" because this describes it perfectly. Anything and everything can set it off and it will continue for hours. Screaming tantrums, crying meltdowns - it can be a melting popsicle or a stern look from me to set it off.
I've been trying my best to get her the sleep she needs because I don't want V. and her sisters who don't see her often to see the worst of her. This is not how she normally acts unless she doesn't get sleep. I've moved up her bedtime to get her 12 hours a night but it's obviously not enough, especially considering the major deficit the first two nights. Already I'm thinking ahead to the long day of travelling we have facing us on Wednesday because if she continues down this road (a building sleep deficit), things are going to be REALLY dicey on that day. I got her in bed at 6:45 tonight after a day at the beach and she would have gone to sleep if not for the poopies that showed up at 8:00 and her claim that she was now hungry. So much for the earlier bedtime, now she's sure to be an emotional whack job tomorrow.
I enjoy and rest in between these stresses and tantrums but it's hard to let go completely especially knowing we have that long travel day and that things are deteriorating further each day. I used to dread going home after a vacation but maybe I won't this time because I'll be looking forward to getting I. back on her sleep schedule and her normal food (which has been an issue too). I guess that might be a benefit of a semi-tough vacation.
Nothing is panning out for my dad work wise this week and he sounds dejected. Maybe being away on this vacation isn't so bad...
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
A Rough Start
Made it to Puerto Rico. A little sketchy since I. didn't fall asleep until 10 pm. last night Atlanta time. But we made it thru & met up w/v. and the girls. long afternoon and evening finding our condo, getting some dinner and groceries too. got i. down at 9pm, power went out about 30 min. later. not just power but water too. wouldn't b that bad if it wasn't still 80 degrees. thankfully i. slept thru it and 1.5 hrs. later both water & power came back on.
nothing like feeling trapped on the top floor of a 22 story building w/out water and power 2 get ur anxiety going. i hope this is the worst of it. now i know how my mom felt after her vacay misadventures. i wished i never gave her a hard time now. i feel responsibility 4 everyone having a good time here since i was in charge of planning it.
typos please forgive as i am multitasking the kindle 2post.
nothing like feeling trapped on the top floor of a 22 story building w/out water and power 2 get ur anxiety going. i hope this is the worst of it. now i know how my mom felt after her vacay misadventures. i wished i never gave her a hard time now. i feel responsibility 4 everyone having a good time here since i was in charge of planning it.
typos please forgive as i am multitasking the kindle 2post.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Short But Sweet
I may only have been a friend to Mark according to his territorial, narcissistic wife but I was closer to him than many spouses are - without sex and arguments. I saw this quote and it struck me as true:
"For one moment, our lives met, our souls touched." Oscar Wilde
Our one moment lasted for 11 years. No, I never could have been his wife - we both knew that and I still know that now. Marriage-wise we were incompatible but as far as two souls in sync with each other, we knew instinctively exactly what the other needed when they needed it. Whether it was encouragement, humor, a stiff drink, a serious talk, or just silence somehow we knew what was needed. We didn't think about it beforehand, we just trusted that our instincts would be right and they were. Many times after Mark was diagnosed and there were difficult things to talk about I would stress about it beforehand. But then I'd remember that somehow I would always say the right thing at the right time and that it would be okay. I'm not sure if it was instinctual or a small help from God, but regardless it always seemed to come happen.
I finally told him that I loved him in the last year he was alive and he said he loved me too. That's good enough for me.
"For one moment, our lives met, our souls touched." Oscar Wilde
Our one moment lasted for 11 years. No, I never could have been his wife - we both knew that and I still know that now. Marriage-wise we were incompatible but as far as two souls in sync with each other, we knew instinctively exactly what the other needed when they needed it. Whether it was encouragement, humor, a stiff drink, a serious talk, or just silence somehow we knew what was needed. We didn't think about it beforehand, we just trusted that our instincts would be right and they were. Many times after Mark was diagnosed and there were difficult things to talk about I would stress about it beforehand. But then I'd remember that somehow I would always say the right thing at the right time and that it would be okay. I'm not sure if it was instinctual or a small help from God, but regardless it always seemed to come happen.
I finally told him that I loved him in the last year he was alive and he said he loved me too. That's good enough for me.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
An Exhausting Weekend
Barely made it through Friday, skidded into Mark's party on Saturday afternoon. For Mark's memory it was nice, for his parents it was nice. I'm happy for that. For me sadly, I just felt Mark's absence that much more and again felt that I was the square peg in a world full of circle holes.
There were three distinct groups at Mark's party. On the far left, there was his male friends, gathered round smoking and drinking beer with their wives gathered together right outside the circle. Then there was V., I. and me in the middle by ourselves, then Mark's parents and their friends and rounding out the right hand side was his sister and her contingency. Yes, we did mingle a few minutes here and there with others but by and large it was just V. and I standing by ourselves while I. played chase with the dog. Thank God for the dog or we would have been goners.
I talked to V. after we got I. to bed about how depressing it is to me that I don't seem to fit into any group any more. It's hard to believe these days, but I had groups I felt comfortable in. My work department, my social group, my martial arts circle - I was usually the mentor, the boss, the ringleader - not just a member. This is a role I feel comfortable in, it gives me satisfaction but one that I cannot grasp right now. It's frustrating and lonely. I know that a major part is that women with friendships put into those friendships - they offer help, telephone support, personal support, a genuine investment into relationships. And for this, as they should be, are rewarded with close friendships that they can depend upon.
It makes me question what's wrong with me. I've got one kid, why can't I make a time and energy investment like that if I want close relationships like that? I think it boils down to that's just me - even in preschool and kindergarten, I just wanted one or two close friends. I never have liked spreading myself thin; I like to make my time and energy investment in one or two people. I would rather be really close to one or two people than be friends with many. That's a fine strategy until those one or two people move away or as you get older get married and their spouses cannot except your friendship or they die. By the time you're 40, your friendships become quite limited.
Maybe I'm having a mid-life crisis. Part of me feels too old to be a part of the stuff I enjoyed in the past (violent, physical martial arts) but conjures up the Me of the past. But part of me doesn't quite fit in with being a full-time mother. I need to find a group full-time moms who were past martial arts female fighters or female law enforcement to truly find a group whose experience is closer to mine.
Don't get me wrong - there are several, maybe many mommas that I feel comfortable with in my current group but because of my truncated daily schedule as a basically single momma with a child whose dinner begins at 3:45, unless I want to spend oodles of money on a babysitter, I can't go out and socialize with these ladies on a regular basis and get everything that needs to get done during the week done. Yes, sometimes I feel like I'm in a rat race but that's just how my life is right now. The best I can do is to try to be balanced in scheduling what needs to be done with fun activities. My first responsibility is to I.. In another year, she'll be in school full-time and I'll have more time to myself and if I don't make time for us to play together now, I will regret it then. That is my main prerogative for now. The rest will have to wait.
There were three distinct groups at Mark's party. On the far left, there was his male friends, gathered round smoking and drinking beer with their wives gathered together right outside the circle. Then there was V., I. and me in the middle by ourselves, then Mark's parents and their friends and rounding out the right hand side was his sister and her contingency. Yes, we did mingle a few minutes here and there with others but by and large it was just V. and I standing by ourselves while I. played chase with the dog. Thank God for the dog or we would have been goners.
I talked to V. after we got I. to bed about how depressing it is to me that I don't seem to fit into any group any more. It's hard to believe these days, but I had groups I felt comfortable in. My work department, my social group, my martial arts circle - I was usually the mentor, the boss, the ringleader - not just a member. This is a role I feel comfortable in, it gives me satisfaction but one that I cannot grasp right now. It's frustrating and lonely. I know that a major part is that women with friendships put into those friendships - they offer help, telephone support, personal support, a genuine investment into relationships. And for this, as they should be, are rewarded with close friendships that they can depend upon.
It makes me question what's wrong with me. I've got one kid, why can't I make a time and energy investment like that if I want close relationships like that? I think it boils down to that's just me - even in preschool and kindergarten, I just wanted one or two close friends. I never have liked spreading myself thin; I like to make my time and energy investment in one or two people. I would rather be really close to one or two people than be friends with many. That's a fine strategy until those one or two people move away or as you get older get married and their spouses cannot except your friendship or they die. By the time you're 40, your friendships become quite limited.
Maybe I'm having a mid-life crisis. Part of me feels too old to be a part of the stuff I enjoyed in the past (violent, physical martial arts) but conjures up the Me of the past. But part of me doesn't quite fit in with being a full-time mother. I need to find a group full-time moms who were past martial arts female fighters or female law enforcement to truly find a group whose experience is closer to mine.
Don't get me wrong - there are several, maybe many mommas that I feel comfortable with in my current group but because of my truncated daily schedule as a basically single momma with a child whose dinner begins at 3:45, unless I want to spend oodles of money on a babysitter, I can't go out and socialize with these ladies on a regular basis and get everything that needs to get done during the week done. Yes, sometimes I feel like I'm in a rat race but that's just how my life is right now. The best I can do is to try to be balanced in scheduling what needs to be done with fun activities. My first responsibility is to I.. In another year, she'll be in school full-time and I'll have more time to myself and if I don't make time for us to play together now, I will regret it then. That is my main prerogative for now. The rest will have to wait.
Friday, July 23, 2010
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.
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.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
You've Got to Be Fucking Kidding Me
An unplanned extra drink tonight. I thought today was going well until it wasn't.
Toy Story 3 was good, not too sad unless you were going through empty nest syndrome right now. We both enjoyed the popcorn and some cuddling - that's always good.
The afternoon consisted of getting I.'s stuff in the washing machine, taking one cat to get a shot and then coming home and watching I.'s baby videos on the television. Everything was good until we got upstairs and that reoccuring (lately) problem of backtalking and attitude. raised its ugly head. I've got to find an instant "go-to" response to that, one that works that is.
I. has been up twice hungry (9:30 and 10:15pm) and I've given her food twice. Now I have to stay up to wait til she falls asleep and I can close her door to keep the cats out. Meanwhile, all hell has broken loose...
My friend Terry sent a text message at 5:30 saying, can you go for coffee tomorrow? I was planning on the gym but since Mark's death hit me like a ton of bricks in the shower tonight, I was scared that maybe I would break down at the gym. So I decided that coffee with Terry would be much preferable. Then I thought we would take flowers to Mark's grave in the afternoon seeing that tomorrow is his anniversary. Sounds good, huh?
I got a phonecall/voicemail from Jodi at 7:30 saying the party was cancelled and to keep her and Hunter in her thoughts. Okay, but then at 10pm, Brian (Mark's friend) texts me that he's banned from Hunter and Jodi's life. After a brief text exchange, I find out that I AM ALSO BANISHED because anyone who has anything to do with Mark's party on Saturday is banished from their lives. Tomorrow I hope to talk to Brian and find out exactly what happened.
Not only that, I then go on to FB and see that I've been REMOVED from her friends' list. I still want to take flowers to Mark's grave and I think I still will. I haven't had any convo with Jodi and this is the first anniversary. I want to put flowers on his grave. If she's there, let her bring up the unpleasantry, I'm not going to. I'm there for Mark, not her and her petty, vulgar bullshit. Why, why does this kind of drama and stress have to surround this sad, grieving time?
FUCK HER!
Toy Story 3 was good, not too sad unless you were going through empty nest syndrome right now. We both enjoyed the popcorn and some cuddling - that's always good.
The afternoon consisted of getting I.'s stuff in the washing machine, taking one cat to get a shot and then coming home and watching I.'s baby videos on the television. Everything was good until we got upstairs and that reoccuring (lately) problem of backtalking and attitude. raised its ugly head. I've got to find an instant "go-to" response to that, one that works that is.
I. has been up twice hungry (9:30 and 10:15pm) and I've given her food twice. Now I have to stay up to wait til she falls asleep and I can close her door to keep the cats out. Meanwhile, all hell has broken loose...
My friend Terry sent a text message at 5:30 saying, can you go for coffee tomorrow? I was planning on the gym but since Mark's death hit me like a ton of bricks in the shower tonight, I was scared that maybe I would break down at the gym. So I decided that coffee with Terry would be much preferable. Then I thought we would take flowers to Mark's grave in the afternoon seeing that tomorrow is his anniversary. Sounds good, huh?
I got a phonecall/voicemail from Jodi at 7:30 saying the party was cancelled and to keep her and Hunter in her thoughts. Okay, but then at 10pm, Brian (Mark's friend) texts me that he's banned from Hunter and Jodi's life. After a brief text exchange, I find out that I AM ALSO BANISHED because anyone who has anything to do with Mark's party on Saturday is banished from their lives. Tomorrow I hope to talk to Brian and find out exactly what happened.
Not only that, I then go on to FB and see that I've been REMOVED from her friends' list. I still want to take flowers to Mark's grave and I think I still will. I haven't had any convo with Jodi and this is the first anniversary. I want to put flowers on his grave. If she's there, let her bring up the unpleasantry, I'm not going to. I'm there for Mark, not her and her petty, vulgar bullshit. Why, why does this kind of drama and stress have to surround this sad, grieving time?
FUCK HER!
Toy Story 3
Since yesterday was one of those "get things done" kind of day, we're going to head to see Toy Story 3 this morning before an afternoon of getting things done. That's just the name of the game when you're leaving for a week. I thought it would be a good idea to go see a kids movie to keep the grief at bay being that Mark's anniversary is tomorrow. Knowing how kids' movies are nowadays, I'll probably end up crying my eyes out at some point. Why do they make kids' movies so sad? I know it's not a new phenomenon; I mean look at Old Yeller for crying out loud. But when I was a kid, movies for the most part were funny and yeah, silly 'cause that's what kids like. But nowadays, they have to add some reminiscent parts that hit all the adults in the theater in the gut. We pay to take the kids and then they sucker punch us. Boy, like how that works. Well, here's to hoping I'm not regretting going to this movie in about 2 hours.
Monday, July 19, 2010
Where Did She Go?
Warning - I've been reading and greatly enjoying Anthony Bourdain's book (of the "No Reservations" show) "Medium Raw" and he uses in the most literary of ways, the word "fuck". This has inspired my sick mind immensely.
Yesterday I was reading Bourdain's book and it caused a question to stick in my proverbial craw this morning. In his book, Tony touches on his past self-destructive behavior, his bad boy image, and how that has all changed. His words (as a result of having a 2 year old daughter): "I most definitely give a fuck now. I give a huge fuck now. The hugest. Everything else -- everything else--pales." (Bourdain, A. "Medium Raw", p. 119, blah blah blah)
That got me thinking today. I am stressing out big-time about traveling in (2) 4.5 hour increments with my own daughter and navigating the time change. I've gotten a few Xanax to help get myself through this while also dealing with the first anniversary of my best friend's death. Okay, that's acknowledged.
But what the hell happened to that woman 10 years ago who decided she was going to go on a week long vacation in Mexico by herself without speaking the language? The one who was scared crapless to go para-gliding, watched it for 10 minutes, went to the condo for a shot of vodka and then bonsai-ed her way up in the air? Where is that fearless, fuck-it-all girl?
It's such a dichotomy (yes, that is the title of my blog) because part of me, a fragmented part of me, is still that person. The person who said "Bite me" to one of her clients (a cop) in front a room full of cops because he was purposely giving her a hard time to see if she could take it. The person who literally sent shit to the top three hypocritical, lazy assholes who smiled in her face as they twisted the knife in her back. The person who broke concrete slabs with her left hand while her right hand was in a cast, injured by breaking concrete slabs a few days before. Where the hell is that person?
I think part of the disappearing act is that before V. to a certain extent but especially since I., a new level of self-preservation has kicked in. Since that morning when I held her for the first time, I knew I needed to be there for her - to protect her, love her, raise her, comfort her, teach her. I couldn't have that same reckless, fuck-it attitude and corresponding behavior because I needed to make it back to her. Before, there wasn't anyone to make it back to, at least not anyone who I hadn't convinced myself would successfully move on and maybe even be better off without my presence. I can't convince myself of that with I. especially with how V.'s work life has been. This knowledge weighs on me. In some ways, the weight is not a bad thing considering my past behavior. This weight holds me down firmly to the foundation that my presence is of utmost importance, keeping me from any dumb ideas I may have. On the flip side however, this weight leads to the fear that something may happen to me while V. is gone and I. will be defenseless. It's the thing that nightmares are made of.
This past year (or three) has been filled with anticipation, fear, sadness, death, grief and anxiety. This is not how I want to live my life. More importantly, this is not who I am or who I've been at least for the last 15 years. Mark's death shook me to the core - I'm not afraid of dying so much as I am just so cognizant that it could truly happen at any time. Most of the anxiety is due to that enormous sense of responsibility to protect I. I would without hesitation lay down my life in order for her to continue living. With the prospect of her and I travelling by ourselves to Puerto Rico, my anxiety does go up. I am anxious for the actual travelling, but I am also anxious for being the person responsible for protecting both her and I on our trip to and from. I. attracts a lot of attention due to her big blue eyes and her long, flowing curls. Yes, it's flattering but from a security standpoint, sometimes I wish she didn't stand out so much.
I'm really am going to try to change my mindset this next week from one concentrating on the unknowns and fears to "this is an adventure!" mindset. Not only will that help me, it's also communicating the type of attitude I want I. to have. I don't want her to be fearful, I want her to be adventurous. Yes, part of being a momma is to protect your young but I want to do that with fierceness rather than fear.
Yesterday I was reading Bourdain's book and it caused a question to stick in my proverbial craw this morning. In his book, Tony touches on his past self-destructive behavior, his bad boy image, and how that has all changed. His words (as a result of having a 2 year old daughter): "I most definitely give a fuck now. I give a huge fuck now. The hugest. Everything else -- everything else--pales." (Bourdain, A. "Medium Raw", p. 119, blah blah blah)
That got me thinking today. I am stressing out big-time about traveling in (2) 4.5 hour increments with my own daughter and navigating the time change. I've gotten a few Xanax to help get myself through this while also dealing with the first anniversary of my best friend's death. Okay, that's acknowledged.
But what the hell happened to that woman 10 years ago who decided she was going to go on a week long vacation in Mexico by herself without speaking the language? The one who was scared crapless to go para-gliding, watched it for 10 minutes, went to the condo for a shot of vodka and then bonsai-ed her way up in the air? Where is that fearless, fuck-it-all girl?
It's such a dichotomy (yes, that is the title of my blog) because part of me, a fragmented part of me, is still that person. The person who said "Bite me" to one of her clients (a cop) in front a room full of cops because he was purposely giving her a hard time to see if she could take it. The person who literally sent shit to the top three hypocritical, lazy assholes who smiled in her face as they twisted the knife in her back. The person who broke concrete slabs with her left hand while her right hand was in a cast, injured by breaking concrete slabs a few days before. Where the hell is that person?
I think part of the disappearing act is that before V. to a certain extent but especially since I., a new level of self-preservation has kicked in. Since that morning when I held her for the first time, I knew I needed to be there for her - to protect her, love her, raise her, comfort her, teach her. I couldn't have that same reckless, fuck-it attitude and corresponding behavior because I needed to make it back to her. Before, there wasn't anyone to make it back to, at least not anyone who I hadn't convinced myself would successfully move on and maybe even be better off without my presence. I can't convince myself of that with I. especially with how V.'s work life has been. This knowledge weighs on me. In some ways, the weight is not a bad thing considering my past behavior. This weight holds me down firmly to the foundation that my presence is of utmost importance, keeping me from any dumb ideas I may have. On the flip side however, this weight leads to the fear that something may happen to me while V. is gone and I. will be defenseless. It's the thing that nightmares are made of.
This past year (or three) has been filled with anticipation, fear, sadness, death, grief and anxiety. This is not how I want to live my life. More importantly, this is not who I am or who I've been at least for the last 15 years. Mark's death shook me to the core - I'm not afraid of dying so much as I am just so cognizant that it could truly happen at any time. Most of the anxiety is due to that enormous sense of responsibility to protect I. I would without hesitation lay down my life in order for her to continue living. With the prospect of her and I travelling by ourselves to Puerto Rico, my anxiety does go up. I am anxious for the actual travelling, but I am also anxious for being the person responsible for protecting both her and I on our trip to and from. I. attracts a lot of attention due to her big blue eyes and her long, flowing curls. Yes, it's flattering but from a security standpoint, sometimes I wish she didn't stand out so much.
I'm really am going to try to change my mindset this next week from one concentrating on the unknowns and fears to "this is an adventure!" mindset. Not only will that help me, it's also communicating the type of attitude I want I. to have. I don't want her to be fearful, I want her to be adventurous. Yes, part of being a momma is to protect your young but I want to do that with fierceness rather than fear.
Monday Reentry
Back to the Monday morning reentry to single momma life. I. is extra whiny and high maintenance. She just finished a huge bowl of high fiber cereal with a ton of strawberries, blueberries, and blackberries plus half a banana yet is whining continually now that she is hungry NOW NOW NOW. I swear to God, I feel like I should take this kid to the doctor 'cause how can that be? It's not just every so often folks that this happens, basically it's after every meal. It's SO frustrating because I give her a lot of food; good, nutritious, high fiber food to keep her healthy and to fill her up. This whining for food right after the meal is not helping my anxiety about how the hell I am going to be on a plane for almost 5 hours and have enough food to keep her from whining and melting down. Because I seriously doubt she's going to like any significant amount of food that the airline may have for purchase.
I'm already bringing cashews, string cheese, and protein/snack bars (as low sugar as I could find to prevent bouncing off the walls) and plan to buy as much food as I can carry and find in the little stores past the security checkpoint. If only they would let you bring peanut butter and jelly sandwiches through security. Those things are the only things that buy me about 45 minutes with I.'s appetite.
Anyways, enough about that. I wasn't planning on writing about that but then all I was hearing was "Mommy, I'm pungry!" over and over again and it hijacked the post. Not much to write about, just a normal day of getting things done with some fun thrown in there. A little Monday morning blahs thrown in - a sign that it was a good weekend for our little family and for V. and I. We shared quite a few laughs and private jokes and it was nice to just hang out by ourselves. Now he's off again...sigh.
And this week of Mark memories looms in my mind. I'm trying to keep concentrated on our trip to Puerto Rico next week, but until we get there and I. is sleeping, the thought of the trip has a lot of anxiety attached to it. If we were all travelling together, it would be different because I would have help, distractions for I. But we're not and so it falls on me. You would think I would have grown accustomed to this fact but instead it just builds up, becomes unruly and overwhelming. I just need to picture myself on that patio, overlooking that beautiful ocean, reading a book and sipping (or gulping) a rum drink. Ahhhh....
I'm already bringing cashews, string cheese, and protein/snack bars (as low sugar as I could find to prevent bouncing off the walls) and plan to buy as much food as I can carry and find in the little stores past the security checkpoint. If only they would let you bring peanut butter and jelly sandwiches through security. Those things are the only things that buy me about 45 minutes with I.'s appetite.
Anyways, enough about that. I wasn't planning on writing about that but then all I was hearing was "Mommy, I'm pungry!" over and over again and it hijacked the post. Not much to write about, just a normal day of getting things done with some fun thrown in there. A little Monday morning blahs thrown in - a sign that it was a good weekend for our little family and for V. and I. We shared quite a few laughs and private jokes and it was nice to just hang out by ourselves. Now he's off again...sigh.
And this week of Mark memories looms in my mind. I'm trying to keep concentrated on our trip to Puerto Rico next week, but until we get there and I. is sleeping, the thought of the trip has a lot of anxiety attached to it. If we were all travelling together, it would be different because I would have help, distractions for I. But we're not and so it falls on me. You would think I would have grown accustomed to this fact but instead it just builds up, becomes unruly and overwhelming. I just need to picture myself on that patio, overlooking that beautiful ocean, reading a book and sipping (or gulping) a rum drink. Ahhhh....
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Contemplation
All three of today's goals were met thankfully and it was a nice time though I didn't get to glance at the magazine I brought. That was just wishful thinking. Instead I stood in the frigid water while I. ran and jumped over waves and held her hand as she tried to balance on the boogie board. I couldn't have asked for better weather at the beach though and we had fun.
When we got home around 3:15, it was 92 degrees and felt like it. Then it started getting dark and it actually started raining big fat raindrops - pretty wild. Now it's four hours later and when I went outside to see if it was cool enough to turn off the A/C, I could smell rain and it was a lot cooler. I love the smell of rain, so I decided to enjoy the smell and the coolness on my skin, and bring the computer outside to post.
Sitting out here posting of course, takes me back to exactly a year ago when I was out here, howling at the moon in despair, grief, and anger over Mark's demise and death. It takes me right back. I'm grateful though that things are much better with V. and I now than they were one year ago. Although he still is away working M-F, we cherish the little things and our time together on the weekends. We are tighter as a couple and I think due to everything that has happened in the past year, our relationship is stronger. I don't feel like we are two separate individuals living separate lives in separate places which is how I felt exactly a year ago. That's a major improvement.
About a month ago, I was really sad thinking about us because I felt like we were broken though in repair. We always have gotten along so well that we would argue about once a year during our first six years of marriage. We didn't sweat the small stuff and trusted each other to have each other's backs thus resulting in a peaceful coexistence. This past year was different and it was hell. A shitty year all around. Just these last couple of weeks I've realized that maybe I shouldn't be sad, maybe I should just be proud of us. Proud that we stuck it through, stayed loyal and we are closer and stronger for that now. I think most people who have been married a long time have had those bad times, those times when you wonder "who is this person?" and wonder if this is how it's going to be for the rest of your life. I know my parents have had several bad times in their marriage, a couple of which I was witness to but they've been married over 40 years and they have a great marriage. Good marriages have these times and they are still together having fun, sharing laughs, and remaining loyal to each other.
Maybe it's that perfection aspect of my personality that got my thinking all screwed up. We're no longer broken any more but we are healing. I kind of think of it as a burn victim - part of that healing process is taking off the old dead skin to reveal the pink, fresh skin underneath. For us, those layers of dead skin were the ones that grew while V. was working in Saudi Arabia for the past couple of years. They may have helped us continue living without going into a depression but they built up to the point where we no longer could deeply feel. Because if we deeply felt something, it would hurt too damn much. Now those layers are being peeled off, sometimes many layers ripped off at one time, sometimes just one layer at a time. But I feel confident that we are getting to those sensitive fresh layers that allow us to feel deeply, passionately, and strongly about one another again.
When we got home around 3:15, it was 92 degrees and felt like it. Then it started getting dark and it actually started raining big fat raindrops - pretty wild. Now it's four hours later and when I went outside to see if it was cool enough to turn off the A/C, I could smell rain and it was a lot cooler. I love the smell of rain, so I decided to enjoy the smell and the coolness on my skin, and bring the computer outside to post.
Sitting out here posting of course, takes me back to exactly a year ago when I was out here, howling at the moon in despair, grief, and anger over Mark's demise and death. It takes me right back. I'm grateful though that things are much better with V. and I now than they were one year ago. Although he still is away working M-F, we cherish the little things and our time together on the weekends. We are tighter as a couple and I think due to everything that has happened in the past year, our relationship is stronger. I don't feel like we are two separate individuals living separate lives in separate places which is how I felt exactly a year ago. That's a major improvement.
About a month ago, I was really sad thinking about us because I felt like we were broken though in repair. We always have gotten along so well that we would argue about once a year during our first six years of marriage. We didn't sweat the small stuff and trusted each other to have each other's backs thus resulting in a peaceful coexistence. This past year was different and it was hell. A shitty year all around. Just these last couple of weeks I've realized that maybe I shouldn't be sad, maybe I should just be proud of us. Proud that we stuck it through, stayed loyal and we are closer and stronger for that now. I think most people who have been married a long time have had those bad times, those times when you wonder "who is this person?" and wonder if this is how it's going to be for the rest of your life. I know my parents have had several bad times in their marriage, a couple of which I was witness to but they've been married over 40 years and they have a great marriage. Good marriages have these times and they are still together having fun, sharing laughs, and remaining loyal to each other.
Maybe it's that perfection aspect of my personality that got my thinking all screwed up. We're no longer broken any more but we are healing. I kind of think of it as a burn victim - part of that healing process is taking off the old dead skin to reveal the pink, fresh skin underneath. For us, those layers of dead skin were the ones that grew while V. was working in Saudi Arabia for the past couple of years. They may have helped us continue living without going into a depression but they built up to the point where we no longer could deeply feel. Because if we deeply felt something, it would hurt too damn much. Now those layers are being peeled off, sometimes many layers ripped off at one time, sometimes just one layer at a time. But I feel confident that we are getting to those sensitive fresh layers that allow us to feel deeply, passionately, and strongly about one another again.
Beach Day
Boy oh boy is it going to be hot the next few days! Not that it wasn't hot yesterday 'cause it was. I always worry that the A/C is going to break right in the middle of this heat probably because we did have a blackout last summer where everything turned off in the middle of 95 degree weather and I was a little panicked. You know that's one of the best things about going out to a Palm Desert condo - I can leave that A/C cranking and not worrying about the bill. Because SDGE is definitely going to be bending us over the next three days. Such vulgarity and rudeness early in the day, I know but it's an accurate summation of what will be occurring.
We're heading to the beach today to try and escape the heat. Yeah, us and thousands of other people with the same idea. I think I've narrowed the goals of this trip down to three:
We're heading to the beach today to try and escape the heat. Yeah, us and thousands of other people with the same idea. I think I've narrowed the goals of this trip down to three:
- Obviously, that I. and I both have fun.
- I will somehow McGyver everything that needs to be carried onto my person and schlep it down to the sand in one trip.
- That there will be no crying jags or tantrums during or at the conclusion of this trip by either of us.
Simple enough, right? In theory perhaps, but when you have an intense, determined 4 year old around, things can go awry quickly and before you know it, you hear the proverbial flushing sound and things started swirling clockwise.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Thank You SO Much
Yes, you know who you are. You are the one who buys loud, annoying gifts and leaves them in my house to put up with. Take for instance right now, I. has the Tickle Me Elmo hands. They involve high pitch singing and loud music and cause I. to spaz around the living room usually ending up with the hands vibrating on my back. But these people say, "But they're SO cute and look how much I. likes them!" Yeah, she likes them until they put me, her mommy, in an irritable mood because I just want that annoying Elmo laughter and singing to stop as in RIGHT NOW.
Then we really see how much fun I. has with those things. If she didn't have such a gosh darn good memory, these type of toys would disappear under the cover of darkness like an underling in the mob. I may be a mean mommy but I'm also a mommy who wouldn't be able to deal with the guilt I would feel when I. asked, "Where did go?" If I really don't know where something is, I can answer "I don't know" with a clear conscience. But if I KNOW that it's sitting on a shelf in some Goodwill store waiting for a child, with a much nicer and less irritable mother, to pick it up and beg for its purchase, I'll be racked with guilt.
Guess that explains why there are so many annoying and obnoxious gifts in the house.
Then we really see how much fun I. has with those things. If she didn't have such a gosh darn good memory, these type of toys would disappear under the cover of darkness like an underling in the mob. I may be a mean mommy but I'm also a mommy who wouldn't be able to deal with the guilt I would feel when I. asked, "Where did
Guess that explains why there are so many annoying and obnoxious gifts in the house.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Making It Through
Nothing exciting going on over here this morning. Yesterday, I successfully made it through Monday's transition back into a single parent for the rest of the week. Every Monday things just seem a little more difficult, complicated, and overwhelming because it's back to being the only adult on duty. Someday, someday, we'll have a more normal life. Of course, I've been saying this same exact thing since February 2005 and I'm still waiting. If you don't have hope, what do you really have?
But that was yesterday and this morning is moving at a leisurely pace. The main event of the day is lunch at Mark's parents' house to go over the final details of his party on the 24th. I actually wish we could have met a neutral location like before, especially with his anniversary looming around the corner because I know when I walk in there with I. I'll be right back to almost exactly a year ago when we went over on a Sunday which will always be known as "Our Last Visit". Everything happened in that house and now I'm going back there today. But what am I going to say to his mom? "Um, yeah, I never want to come to your house ever again because all it reminds me of is Mark, my missing friendship, and those last 3 days of him dying." It's just not something to say to a grieving mother. So I'll just have to hope for the best and concentrate on the party.
But that was yesterday and this morning is moving at a leisurely pace. The main event of the day is lunch at Mark's parents' house to go over the final details of his party on the 24th. I actually wish we could have met a neutral location like before, especially with his anniversary looming around the corner because I know when I walk in there with I. I'll be right back to almost exactly a year ago when we went over on a Sunday which will always be known as "Our Last Visit". Everything happened in that house and now I'm going back there today. But what am I going to say to his mom? "Um, yeah, I never want to come to your house ever again because all it reminds me of is Mark, my missing friendship, and those last 3 days of him dying." It's just not something to say to a grieving mother. So I'll just have to hope for the best and concentrate on the party.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Constant Chatter
It's one of those mornings that make me feel like I just want all the noise to stop. From the time I got up, it's been, "I'm hungry. I want this, I want that. Look at this. How do you...?" Constant questions, demands, statements. It...just...needs...to....stop. And quickly. I feel like I'm crawling out of my skin literally.
Yes, I realize if something horrible happened and the noise wasn't there, I would be devastated, ruined, without reason. And my brain, the tiniest part that is not being invaded by questions and demands, understands that.
But the rest of my brain, the other 99%, needs some peace and quiet and for this reason, I'm going to hurry as fast as I possibly can to get ready and get to the gym so I can put I. in the kids club. Maybe the combination of vigorous exercise and some peace and quiet will help me handle whatever the rest of the day brings.
Yes, I realize if something horrible happened and the noise wasn't there, I would be devastated, ruined, without reason. And my brain, the tiniest part that is not being invaded by questions and demands, understands that.
But the rest of my brain, the other 99%, needs some peace and quiet and for this reason, I'm going to hurry as fast as I possibly can to get ready and get to the gym so I can put I. in the kids club. Maybe the combination of vigorous exercise and some peace and quiet will help me handle whatever the rest of the day brings.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
In Limbo
This week has been a busy one. I. has been in a summer camp since Tuesday from 9-noon so it's been balls to the wall every morning. Not to mention, I've had to set the alarm to wake up early to get her there on time. Oh, I do NOT miss waking up to an alarm. It's been one of the perks the last few years and I am not looking forward to the day when I have to go back to it. For a person who only sleeps decently from 4 am. on, an alarm is pure torture. I'm groggy, disoriented, and out of it. Much rather wake up on my own in between dreams/nightmares.
At night this week, I've been slammed with client work. This client is a hurry up and wait kind of client. Actually, both of my clients are that way. You don't hear from them and then they need everything yesterday. So for the last few days, I've been Momma full-time and then worker bee from 6pm on and I'm pretty tired. I do like to see the invoices increasing though and it's going to be a pretty good month so that's satisfying. However, these two time-consuming tasks delays updating my blog.
Yeah, so the update. Fourth of July turned out wonderfully because my sister didn't show up. So we had a relaxed, fun time playing ping pong and laughing. While I. has been in summer camp this week, I've been working out and catching up on errands. Today though I decided to do something different and go for an hour long hike up Iron Mtn. which was pretty challenging. I really enjoyed it though. I had my Ipod on and somehow scaling those rocky hills gave me the same type of feeling as when I was in martial arts. The physical challenge with a required mental focus (so I didn't twist my ankle or fall) that distracts me from the strenuous exercise. The only bad part was that due to the mistiness of the day, it was pretty deserted which was kind of scary. Considering the domestic violence incident plus the murdering mechanic friend, my fear and anxiety is on high alert. But I got a good workout and enjoyed it immensely. I wish I could do it all the time 'cause I'd be in kick-ass shape without the boredom of the gym.
Afterwards, I went to Mark's grave and laid down to finish reading Ozzy Osbourne's autobiography. I thought it fitting to read Ozzy's book with Mark, plus I hadn't seen his headstone in person and I was right around the corner. It was still misting and gloomy, so I just pulled my hood over my head and face, sat on his headstone and read. Then it was time to pick up I. from camp. I'm kind of in a strange place - the year anniversary is quickly approaching and I'm actively planning this party with his parents. Next Tuesday, I'm going to his parents' house to figure out the last minute details of the party. My mood is definitely down with fleeting thoughts from my depressed days but overall, I'm keeping myself busy and trying to stay focused on positive things.
I wanted to treat myself to something on the last day of I.'s summer camp. Terry couldn't do coffee so instead I'm dropping I. off, heading to a Starbucks with a book, and then getting a massage with my favorite masseuse. I really lucked out on getting on her schedule because she only works certain days and usually she's booked. It's a sign, I think.
At night this week, I've been slammed with client work. This client is a hurry up and wait kind of client. Actually, both of my clients are that way. You don't hear from them and then they need everything yesterday. So for the last few days, I've been Momma full-time and then worker bee from 6pm on and I'm pretty tired. I do like to see the invoices increasing though and it's going to be a pretty good month so that's satisfying. However, these two time-consuming tasks delays updating my blog.
Yeah, so the update. Fourth of July turned out wonderfully because my sister didn't show up. So we had a relaxed, fun time playing ping pong and laughing. While I. has been in summer camp this week, I've been working out and catching up on errands. Today though I decided to do something different and go for an hour long hike up Iron Mtn. which was pretty challenging. I really enjoyed it though. I had my Ipod on and somehow scaling those rocky hills gave me the same type of feeling as when I was in martial arts. The physical challenge with a required mental focus (so I didn't twist my ankle or fall) that distracts me from the strenuous exercise. The only bad part was that due to the mistiness of the day, it was pretty deserted which was kind of scary. Considering the domestic violence incident plus the murdering mechanic friend, my fear and anxiety is on high alert. But I got a good workout and enjoyed it immensely. I wish I could do it all the time 'cause I'd be in kick-ass shape without the boredom of the gym.
Afterwards, I went to Mark's grave and laid down to finish reading Ozzy Osbourne's autobiography. I thought it fitting to read Ozzy's book with Mark, plus I hadn't seen his headstone in person and I was right around the corner. It was still misting and gloomy, so I just pulled my hood over my head and face, sat on his headstone and read. Then it was time to pick up I. from camp. I'm kind of in a strange place - the year anniversary is quickly approaching and I'm actively planning this party with his parents. Next Tuesday, I'm going to his parents' house to figure out the last minute details of the party. My mood is definitely down with fleeting thoughts from my depressed days but overall, I'm keeping myself busy and trying to stay focused on positive things.
I wanted to treat myself to something on the last day of I.'s summer camp. Terry couldn't do coffee so instead I'm dropping I. off, heading to a Starbucks with a book, and then getting a massage with my favorite masseuse. I really lucked out on getting on her schedule because she only works certain days and usually she's booked. It's a sign, I think.
Sunday, July 4, 2010
4th of July
I'm trying to get psyched up for today but it's a little difficult. Today is going to be a LONG day over at my parents' house because today is not only the 4th of July which means a bbq and fireworks at 9pm (God help me) but we also celebrate my brother's birthday. This year though he already opened his presents from my parents so not to be scrutinized by my sister so all he has left are our few presents and anything my sister gets him (bought by my mother of course). So we're going to get there at 1:30 and be there until about 9:45. That is a long day, especially with possible drama. Ugh!
There is a possibility that my sister will be bringing some dude that she discovered online. Not someone that she was matched with but just some random guy that she started a conversation with. He asked her out for 2 nights in a row without even having met her which is strange. He's 32 with 2 little kids that live with him Monday-Thursday. This is obviously not the right guy since my sister doesn't like to compete with a guy's jobs, hobbies, sports, television shows, and most of all children. The only possible good side to the dude being there is that she might act more normal since for God's sake, she only met him Thursday night. I just hope he's not weird like the last dude she brought to 4th of July a couple of years ago but how could he possibly not be weird if he's with her?
On days like today, I just hope for the best - no fights, no bitchy dramas, that it goes by quickly, that there is some element of fun, and that I. sleeps through the fireworks.
There is a possibility that my sister will be bringing some dude that she discovered online. Not someone that she was matched with but just some random guy that she started a conversation with. He asked her out for 2 nights in a row without even having met her which is strange. He's 32 with 2 little kids that live with him Monday-Thursday. This is obviously not the right guy since my sister doesn't like to compete with a guy's jobs, hobbies, sports, television shows, and most of all children. The only possible good side to the dude being there is that she might act more normal since for God's sake, she only met him Thursday night. I just hope he's not weird like the last dude she brought to 4th of July a couple of years ago but how could he possibly not be weird if he's with her?
On days like today, I just hope for the best - no fights, no bitchy dramas, that it goes by quickly, that there is some element of fun, and that I. sleeps through the fireworks.
Friday, July 2, 2010
Kind of Freaking Out
In Wednesday morning's paper, there was a news story about a car that went off a rural freeway and two women were found dead. Read it, didn't think much of it.
This morning (Friday) I was reading the paper and here was an article about a man who was the husband of one of those women who was being arrested for having a sexual relationship with his wife's niece. His wife was one of those women who was found dead on Tuesday.
I continued reading the article and it was getting more and more crazy. The 17 year old niece and her mother (his wife's sister) just arrived from overseas and were living in their house since December. In March, he was arrested for molestation of the niece but because neither the niece nor his wife would press charges, nothing came of it. His wife was quoted as saying that she didn't "want her daughter to be fatherless". Then Tuesday night they find her and her mother (who lived with them) in a car at the bottom of a ravine with gunshots in them. Very strange.
It got a whole lot stranger when I got to the end of this morning's article and realize that I have known this man for about 8 years. Not only do I know him, I just had a conversation with him on Monday afternoon! I turn back to the front page photo and though he's hiding his face, it sure as heck is him. I asked him on Monday how his daughter was and he proudly said, "Can you believe she's going to be going to first grade next week?" He was as friendly and cheerful as he always was towards me and said hi to I. quite a few times, commenting on how tall she was getting. I've been going to this guy since before V. and I were married.
If he shot his wife and MIL on Tuesday and dumped their bodies, it gives me the willies to think that there must have been some evil thoughts circulating in his mind on Monday afternoon when I spoke to him. Besides that, he had already been arrested for statuatory rape of that 17 year old and his life was unraveling. Later today it came to light that he was an ex-con who shot a cab driver while robbing him and was in prison, until he escaped. He was recaptured in San Diego in 2000 and finished serving his time and then returned back to his wife in San Diego after that.
This whole thing scares me, unsettles me and certainly is not helping my anxiety level. I feel anxious that I have taken I. with me since she's been born to this guy's place and have thought him to be a good guy. My job as mother is to keep her safe and I feel like I should have been able to get a vibe about this guy and not expose her to him. I know, you can't know who someone really is but for some reason, I'm shaken and feel like I need to up the defense line to keep I. and I safe. I hope this won't translate into nightmares tonight. My brain really needs a rest after today.
This morning (Friday) I was reading the paper and here was an article about a man who was the husband of one of those women who was being arrested for having a sexual relationship with his wife's niece. His wife was one of those women who was found dead on Tuesday.
I continued reading the article and it was getting more and more crazy. The 17 year old niece and her mother (his wife's sister) just arrived from overseas and were living in their house since December. In March, he was arrested for molestation of the niece but because neither the niece nor his wife would press charges, nothing came of it. His wife was quoted as saying that she didn't "want her daughter to be fatherless". Then Tuesday night they find her and her mother (who lived with them) in a car at the bottom of a ravine with gunshots in them. Very strange.
It got a whole lot stranger when I got to the end of this morning's article and realize that I have known this man for about 8 years. Not only do I know him, I just had a conversation with him on Monday afternoon! I turn back to the front page photo and though he's hiding his face, it sure as heck is him. I asked him on Monday how his daughter was and he proudly said, "Can you believe she's going to be going to first grade next week?" He was as friendly and cheerful as he always was towards me and said hi to I. quite a few times, commenting on how tall she was getting. I've been going to this guy since before V. and I were married.
If he shot his wife and MIL on Tuesday and dumped their bodies, it gives me the willies to think that there must have been some evil thoughts circulating in his mind on Monday afternoon when I spoke to him. Besides that, he had already been arrested for statuatory rape of that 17 year old and his life was unraveling. Later today it came to light that he was an ex-con who shot a cab driver while robbing him and was in prison, until he escaped. He was recaptured in San Diego in 2000 and finished serving his time and then returned back to his wife in San Diego after that.
This whole thing scares me, unsettles me and certainly is not helping my anxiety level. I feel anxious that I have taken I. with me since she's been born to this guy's place and have thought him to be a good guy. My job as mother is to keep her safe and I feel like I should have been able to get a vibe about this guy and not expose her to him. I know, you can't know who someone really is but for some reason, I'm shaken and feel like I need to up the defense line to keep I. and I safe. I hope this won't translate into nightmares tonight. My brain really needs a rest after today.
Thursday, July 1, 2010
She Gave Our Gift
Disappointment doesn't even begin to describe how I'm feeling right now. This is the hardest emotion for me to deal with probably because it involves various emotions - sadness, anger, being let down, hurt. I vacillate between wanting to cry and wanting to punch a wall. Neither are really going to make me feel better so I do nothing. Well, not quite nothing because I'm blogging about it. That's really just for my own mental health and to try and get it out of my head so that I don't have nightmares tonight.
Now, to get to the title of the post. The ex told the girls what OUR graduation present was (taking them to Puerto Rico for a week). Let me say that again: THAT BITCH TOLD THE GIRLS WHAT OUR PRESENT WAS. You know, the present that I have spent over 20 hours researching and planning. The one that we were looking forward to giving them to see their excited reaction. It's done. There's no excited reaction to see because SHE saw it. She got the reaction to OUR gift. I went to AAA this week to get printed literature on Puerto Rico so that we could do a drawn out "reveal" of the vacation. Tonight I worked on the rest of it so that V. could see it since they're coming down tomorrow night. And for what, a big fat nothing.
I am full of such anger and hatred towards the ex right now. What a fucking bitch. This one week after we hung out with them for 8 hours, us being personable, nice people and then she turns around and basically fucks us. This is when I wish I still was involved with martial arts so that I could punch and kick something until I felt better, all the while visualizing the offending person's face. But I'm not so I'm just going to have to deal with it. Luckily, I'm going to the gym tomorrow morning so I will have some physical outlet.
Life is too short for this kind of bullshit.
Now, to get to the title of the post. The ex told the girls what OUR graduation present was (taking them to Puerto Rico for a week). Let me say that again: THAT BITCH TOLD THE GIRLS WHAT OUR PRESENT WAS. You know, the present that I have spent over 20 hours researching and planning. The one that we were looking forward to giving them to see their excited reaction. It's done. There's no excited reaction to see because SHE saw it. She got the reaction to OUR gift. I went to AAA this week to get printed literature on Puerto Rico so that we could do a drawn out "reveal" of the vacation. Tonight I worked on the rest of it so that V. could see it since they're coming down tomorrow night. And for what, a big fat nothing.
I am full of such anger and hatred towards the ex right now. What a fucking bitch. This one week after we hung out with them for 8 hours, us being personable, nice people and then she turns around and basically fucks us. This is when I wish I still was involved with martial arts so that I could punch and kick something until I felt better, all the while visualizing the offending person's face. But I'm not so I'm just going to have to deal with it. Luckily, I'm going to the gym tomorrow morning so I will have some physical outlet.
Life is too short for this kind of bullshit.
Family
We're heading to the Fair in a little while to meet my parents. Now that my evil sister has been relocated to another room in another unsuspecting person's house, she doesn't have to be at their house all day, every day. So we're actually able to do some things with my parents again. Of course, it's all on the down -low because we can't say we ever see each other when my sister is around or there will be hell to pay.
I had a humorous conversation with my brother last night. We were talking business at first but the conversation came around as it usually does to my sister. His birthday is this weekend and we'll be getting together on the Fourth and he was hoping she wouldn't have to be there. Since it's the Fourth though, she has to be there. He's going to open all his presents on Friday night when she's not there so he doesn't have to go through the inevitable evil eye from her as she sits there calculating how much each present cost and if she got an equal amount on her birthday. She did this crap back when she was 6; some things don't change.
We started cracking up so hard reliving all the weird stuff from Father's Day she did. For instance, she sat there and told my brother for 15 minutes all the places she had applied to. Then we all sat down to eat and 5 minutes later she's done, gets up and announces to him, "I feel really guilty for talking to you." and goes in the house. Part of the hilarity is obviously the comment, but the other part is that no one even acknowledged that she said it and just started talking about some random topic. Of course, my brother and I made eye contact and I said to him, "What the heck just happened there?" and we both started laughing. Or how about how she announced to my brother, "I need a hug." and gives this really long, strange hug. Okay, so what was so strange about that you ask? Because after she did it, she turned to his girlfriend and asked, "Does that make you jealous?" Huh, what?! Ewww, what the heck does that mean? Weird stuff like that constantly and how it's completely ignored is both bizarre, maddening, and hilarious all at the same time.
Our other favorite is how she spends a lot of time detailing out to both of us EVERYTHING she's been doing in minutiae, trying to convince us that she is SO busy. Obviously much busier than either of us. I mean she's spends 2-3 hours at the gym (with her big dark sunglasses on) and about the same time at the library - if I did that every day, I'd be exhausted from being so busy. Just a bit of sarcasm there.
This is the fun you get when you have an insane person at all your family gatherings. It's very conflicting because on one hand you feel bad for her but on the other hand, we are both so tired of 14+ years of this crap and the price it's exacted on my parents and family that it's hard not to lash out. So that's why we laugh.
I had a humorous conversation with my brother last night. We were talking business at first but the conversation came around as it usually does to my sister. His birthday is this weekend and we'll be getting together on the Fourth and he was hoping she wouldn't have to be there. Since it's the Fourth though, she has to be there. He's going to open all his presents on Friday night when she's not there so he doesn't have to go through the inevitable evil eye from her as she sits there calculating how much each present cost and if she got an equal amount on her birthday. She did this crap back when she was 6; some things don't change.
We started cracking up so hard reliving all the weird stuff from Father's Day she did. For instance, she sat there and told my brother for 15 minutes all the places she had applied to. Then we all sat down to eat and 5 minutes later she's done, gets up and announces to him, "I feel really guilty for talking to you." and goes in the house. Part of the hilarity is obviously the comment, but the other part is that no one even acknowledged that she said it and just started talking about some random topic. Of course, my brother and I made eye contact and I said to him, "What the heck just happened there?" and we both started laughing. Or how about how she announced to my brother, "I need a hug." and gives this really long, strange hug. Okay, so what was so strange about that you ask? Because after she did it, she turned to his girlfriend and asked, "Does that make you jealous?" Huh, what?! Ewww, what the heck does that mean? Weird stuff like that constantly and how it's completely ignored is both bizarre, maddening, and hilarious all at the same time.
Our other favorite is how she spends a lot of time detailing out to both of us EVERYTHING she's been doing in minutiae, trying to convince us that she is SO busy. Obviously much busier than either of us. I mean she's spends 2-3 hours at the gym (with her big dark sunglasses on) and about the same time at the library - if I did that every day, I'd be exhausted from being so busy. Just a bit of sarcasm there.
This is the fun you get when you have an insane person at all your family gatherings. It's very conflicting because on one hand you feel bad for her but on the other hand, we are both so tired of 14+ years of this crap and the price it's exacted on my parents and family that it's hard not to lash out. So that's why we laugh.
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