Category Archives: Motherhood
Lost: My son’s happy mom (She’s mostly friendly and comes to the word ‘Cake’)
This is absolutely true.
How do I know this to be true?
Because I’ve been doing it to the person who means the most to me.
I’ve been defensive and sensitive and internalizing everything my son has said to me lately. Projecting on him my current self loathing, self-deprecation and insecurities.
One example: Yesterday I rose early, went immediately to the Laundromat and did our laundry. Yes, ‘our’ laundry. I see no point in making that trip and spending money on those machines only to do MY laundry. (See, I’m already defending myself thinking ‘surely someone reading this is going to think why isn’t HE doing his OWN laundry.’) I do this all the time. Defend my actions/thoughts/opinions. *Sigh*
ANYWAY!
I return from the Laundromat and tip toe around the house as my son had a late night with some friends.
I cleaned as quietly as I could. I made two amazing dishes from scratch. Then I had to vacuum … so I woke Nic.
It was after 1 p.m. by this time anyway.
I finally relaxed with a movie and some time later he found me in my bedroom telling me that the waist band of my jeans might be damp.
How did I take it?
I took it as a passive-aggressive remark in order to inform me that his jeans were not dried to completion.
My internal dialogue?
Well, SOR-RY! I mean, I only work full-time and support us both and YES, I knew I had only put our jeans in the dryer for 20 minutes this weekend instead of 30, because I wanted to come home on my last day off! I knew they’d dry before anyone would be slipping them on. And oh, excuse me for not doing YOUR laundry perfectly while you were sleeping and jobless and …
All of this occurred in my head. What came out of my mouth was a lesser version. Something like “So, you’re saying I didn’t dry your jeans enough?”
Paraphrasing.
But it was said with snark and my feelings were truly hurt.
Was that his intention?
No.
But I’ve felt so ‘less than’ that I consider everything an insult lately.
I’m not pleased with how I’ve been living, or rather NOT living my life.
I’m not pleased with my lack of gratitude or joy.
I’m not pleased with my weight gain or my indulgences.
I know I can change all of these things – but I just don’t have it in me right now.
I am unhappy.
And the way I’ve been treating others, mostly Nic, is a direct result of that.
I’m scared. I’m scared I will be alone.
My Nannie is passing (I’ve mentioned this before) and my mum has been out of the country with her for coming up on two months now.
Nic and I discussed this, and in his youth – (I hope) in his limited life experience … said: “You won’t do that will you?” Meaning want him with me as my life comes to a close and then linger.
I was shocked.
I weighed all the information I could grasp in my head so as not to lash out. Of course, ‘hurt’ won out and I said, “No, I’ll be sure to die as quickly as possible for you.”
Ug.
I hope that by sharing this – getting it written down and out will be the start of ME taking action to STOP this hurtful cycle.
I want ‘happy Amanda’ back. I want to respond to others with confidence and love. I want to return self-love to those I care for.
First step: Acknowledge the problem.
Check!
Guilty wishes – dark thoughts.
It’s still too early to sleep – but that’s what I want.
How do I feel? I feel dank.
Dank and dark and hopeless – and hopeful and grateful all at the same time.
Does that make sense? No.
I feel like I have been peeled alive and felt every bit of it, but am still grateful for being alive.
I am missing my mum.
I am hating what is the ‘waiting game’. Knowing everyone gets what the outcome is.
Horrific isn’t it? That I’m waiting day by day (as is she, but MUCH more personally) for the ‘finale’
I won’t put a full stop there on purpose.
It is not a mistake in the sentence.
And there will be no mistaking the grief.
I feel guilty for wanting my mum home, because it will be when her mum, and my Nannie has passed.
The day I knew I was a grown up, then so wasn’t.
I spent the last couple of days sleeping, and when not sleeping, trying not to cough.
Not because it hurt, because, oh, it did – but, because I’ve never been that ‘Sniffle, sniffle, oh can’t you see I’m sniffling because I’m sick??’ girl.
Person even. Not just girl.
You know those people. Those people who are sick, but the minute you ASK them, “How are you?” suddenly develop more of a cough or MORE of a sniffle – for emphasis. And bless those that need that attention. But I wear big girl panties.
Ok, I’m stubborn.
So, after fighting a fever the day after the failure of a fun lunar eclipse night – I knew I had Tuesday off due to a text message. I had informed my employees that I had pink eye for the sole purpose of them maybe just not touching the phone I used or my mouse in my absence on Monday (my planned ‘vacation’ day off.)
I was informed, do not show up Tuesday.
Couldn’t really argue because I was having a hard time standing or feeling human on Monday.
So I didn’t.
And I slept.
I slept SO hard. I felt awful. My throat was now hurting. When I say ‘hurting’ – I’ve been through a vaginal birth with no epidural – so … on a scale from 1-10, breathing AIR was like someone had a freaking flame thrower in my throat. Although, we ARE in the desert.
Today, I stumbled up and dressed and went in early to handle two days worth of ‘without’ me inbox. Hoping there would be an inbox like that anyway.
And there was! Yay! I am relevant.
Although, I was also with strep throat.
I didn’t know until this morning.
My tongue reminded me of that scene from Jurassic Park.
And yeah, here’s a real one … gird your loins.
BUT! I thought, so cleverly, I broke fever yesterday – surely I can’t be contagious – so I went in, cleared my inbox, cleared my email – felt … miserable. BUT! Accomplished.
And I’m TRYING not to cough.
Then the phone rings, and in an attempt to try NOT to cough, I ended up swallowing phlegm and sounding as sick as I felt. To one of my bosses. On the other end of the phone.
Wonderful. Not.
I did NOT want to use anymore sick time!
I was being SUCH a grown up!
And – was told to go home.
I researched strep throat, assured my boss that I would be a full 24 hours on antibiotics and could I PLEASE come in to work tomorrow?
(That’s another grown up part. Although I didn’t take any before, I had some. I was saving them for when Nic was sick, but, now he has insurance.)
I was told no.
And proceeded to lose it.
Didn’t feel well, was scared of them doing well without me and … the dam burst.
First I’m in Nic’s arms, (trying not to breathe on him) after he asked me why I’m crying.
Then, I’m in the lap of my honey and choking out, “I just don’t FEEL well and I want to be at WOOOORK and … OMG! DO YOU SEE THAT????? I have OLD WOMAN LEG WRINKLES!”
Yeah. I lost it.
And he was like a deer in headlights.
And I’m wiping my nose, bawling and pacing and spraying that awful numbing medicine down my throat and still crying – and it’s a carnival of … horrible!
Then came … “And I …. I … I want my MOM!”
Who, I should mention, is currently in England.
BACK from adulthood to being a child.
Amazingly though, after getting THAT out of my system, and managing somehow to make my throat feel worse (surprise, surprise) my emotional state feels better.
Sometimes we just need that love.
To be vulnerable.
To admit, we feel f&*%ing awful and need someone.
Only now it’s not just mom. That hug Nic gave me meant the world to me – and concern was in his eyes (as was horror, but lets face it, I don’t look too hot – which, WAS confirmed by another boss this morning.)
And as for my future husband? He reminded me that there is a reason he does not work in a hospital. But I’ll give him this, he offered me ice this weekend and left me alone to sleep. That’s a deer in headlights with some kindness.
As for work?
I know they don’t want to get sick. They can’t. They don’t have time for it. I also know they love me.
Musings from the Laundromat: Kind Doctors and Missing my Baby Boy edition.
Pretty much sums it up this morning. YAWN! Today is a big day! I took tomorrow off so I can stay up past my bedtime and photograph the ‘Super Blood Moon Total Lunar Eclipse!” Sounds like a really bad SyFy movie sequel title no? Anyway, I’m stoked.
So, remember when back when we were in school and we’d have a rare sighting of one of our teachers outside of school? I had a moment like that Friday.
I took my lunch break to grab some produce from the 99 cent store, and who should be walking across the parking lot toward me? My laundry lady! So odd seeing her outside of this place.
‘This’ place by the way, is 90% men today. They’re all sort of aimlessly figuring things out and not talking to one another.
There’s two in that photo. Problem is, I was preparing to take a photo of the machines behind ‘sitting guy.’ Looked like a face to me – two frothy white eyes and a laundry basket mouth. But, then he plopped down and my washing machine face was obscured.
Speaking of faces (this is going to be a really bad segue) I have pink eye.
I was wondering why when I blinked it felt like I had sandpaper on the inside of my eye lids.
The sweet sharer of this condition is my darling son.
Poor kid hasn’t felt good in a week. We treated it like a bug, but yesterday morning, he was up and dressed when I got up. Rare. Very rare.
“I’m going to the hospital. I have lumps in my throat.”
We did the flashlight thing, and while his tonsils did look enlarged, no white spots so I was glad of that.
“Hold on, lemme get dressed, I’ll come with you.”
So off we went.
His comment when I snapped this pic “Really mom? I look awful!” As if that was going to stop me. Pffft. He SHOULD know me by now.
Then while waiting, I started poking around the room a little.
Noticed this – 
Good to know – nicely labeled – wait … WAIT … WHAT?
‘Vag’ light? There HAD to be more label available to spell that one out no? I mean, clearly the drawer above it isn’t abbreviated.
“Pass me a vag light, stat!”
I was in stitches laughing (no pun intended.)
Doctor came in, really nice guy.
He inspected my offspring as Nic asked him, “Do you see the lumps?” and proceeded to show the DOCTOR a photo he’d taken of his own throat. “Nic! He’s a doctor! He’s looking in your mouth.” I was amused. As if the doc (since we’re shortening things) was going to say, “OH! Jeez – thanks for pointing THAT out – can NOT believe I missed seeing that.” Anyway, doc then announced ear and throat infection – AND, pink eye.
It should be noted that while my son has insurance, I do not. And that’s not the reason I brought this up, but I casually said to the doctor, “Would that explain why I feel like someone threw sand in my eye?”
The doctor looked at me very seriously and said, “You’re not asking me to diagnosis someone I’m not treating are you?” I must have had a look of horror on my now red face because he quickly followed that up with a small smile and, “Because, I’ll be giving him a refill for the eye drops for someone I’m NOT consulting.”
I loved that doctor then. I mean, these days, who DOES that? So Nic and I are set when it comes to our eyeballs.
We then went to the pharmacy and put his antibiotic, pain and eye prescriptions in capable hands before running a few errands.
I have to say – and this may make me sound like a HORRIBLE mom, but, this past week while he’s been under the weather, there’s a part of me that liked it. No, I didn’t like that he was sick. No, I don’t have munchausen by proxy syndrome … It was just nice that my grown man of a son needed me. And let me stroke his hair off of his fevered forehead. That he was my little boy again. That I got to mother him.
I miss him needing me. I miss being strong for him. Protecting him.
And while I’m sure some would argue that the above are still true, it was just nice to hug him after bringing him a cold drink and him not letting go quickly.
The Menagerie – and the wounds.
My parents cool deck needs some work. They do what they can, but I came out of a day of swimming looking like I’ve been beaten up. I had to explain each wound to my co-workers.
No, he doesn’t hit me.
No, this isn’t a ‘sex’ wound.
No, I didn’t fall down.
I DID take full advantage of the pool. But the coating on the side is like cut glass – and when they’ve spent as much as they have getting the INSIDE suitable for water and swimming, who could blame them for waiting on ‘aesthetics’?
Not me.
But I suffered. Every knuckle. Every knee. Every arm that hung onto the side to chat, then turn to respond to someone – injured. I can LOOK at something and be injured by it. It’s ridiculous. I bruise so easily.
I bleed easily too.
I will not speak of that night. Let’s just say, 95% of it was freaking awesome, and the other 5%? Well, when you have people imbibing and that love one another – shite happens. Because we feel safe being ourselves.
And sometimes ourselves isn’t who we want to be.
Then there was the ‘plank off’ which I INSISTED on – although my very fit mom told me was not a great idea. My core is still hurting today. LOL!
Here’s some pics from the party, then we’ll get to the menagerie.
Fun time was had by all – until it wasn’t a fun time.
I have GOT to learn to let go.
To appreciate what I have and quit living in the past.
ANYWAY – this thing showed up ….
Did I NOT tell Nic “no more critters???”
So, now he has like a dozen fish – a hamster (the first critter, whose name is Scarelett, but forever I will call ‘Scratchy’.) Now a Guinea Pig who looks at me with sad eyes.
I thought tonight, ‘Eff it!’ and brought Butters in. Let her explore the new smell.
She did great! But then … Draper marched in – and I, in my ninja, stupid, only human mode did a tuck and roll onto the floor I’ve only seen in movies.
Was enough to alarm the cat who I’m sure was thinking “What the ‘F’ is she DOING??????” And I twisted my toe.
SO unnecessarily twisted my toe. Add that to the injury list. LOL!
Sorry Paltrow, I can never be a body double, because I maim myself just LOOKING at something.
Animals are settled for the night.
Nic is gone, because he’s saying ‘bye for now’ to his true love going back to college out-of-state – and I have my honey working his arse off for his art.
And wounds.
Wounds I couldn’t let go that 5% of the night.
And very visible wounds I can’t stop saying ‘ouch!’ to today.
Debauchery Soup 