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Parades, phalanges and procrastination
Thanksgiving.
It’s freezing in my house. A chilly 70 degrees. Yes, that’s cold. When you’re used to temps in the 120’s.
I can barely feel my toes. I refuse to turn the heater up – I just got the electricity bill down from the Summer. I don’t need the gas bill competing with it.
Since my son was church mousing around the house at 4 in the morning, I’m sure I won’t be seeing his bright-eyed face until it’s almost time to go to my parents house this afternoon.
So, Butters and I have been watching the Thanksgiving Day parades and pacing. Mostly I’m pacing. She’s relocated a few times.
I can never sit still.
I go from room to room – swipe my email update – check Facebook – go to another room – make a mental list of everything that needs to be done in said room, then leave it.
I’m bathed – dressed – and bored.
I’m sure there’s someone out there completely inundated with people and activity that would love to switch places with me.
They would know better what to do with boredom. Not me. I am restless!
Unmotivated and restless.
It’s a really bad combination of things to be. I could have had at least 3 projects crossed off my list right now if I had a teeny tiny bit of motivation in me this morning.
I think by typing I feel like I’m getting something accomplished – besides, it keeps my fingers from freezing.
Speaking of fingers. Yesterday I managed to staple my finger …
I happened to have two people in my office at the time – and much to their amusement I did the ‘Is it bad?? OMG, I don’t want to look … IS it bad?? Look … no, wait – don’t look’ thing. All whilst giggling.
One visitor took photos while the other said “Oh, yeah, that’s in there.” Then proceeded to leave me.
Not before announcing to my boss in the room across from us, “She stapled her finger,” to which there was no response.
I think he’s pretty used to hearing anything when it comes to a) Announcements (muttering, unprovoked fits of laughter, cursing) from my office b) Updates from other people as to what Amanda has managed to do now. He’s desensitized. Can’t blame him really.
Probably he managed an eyeroll – maybe even sighed a little.
I was laughing and wondering if the femoral artery got anywhere near the finger tip – (It could! Well … if you’re scratching your leg) then just bravely strolled to the kitchen, grabbed a bandaid from the friend that left, turned on the faucet and yanked the offending staple from my sore phalange.
It really wasn’t bad at all. Provided a little excitement on a day that was crawling by. (I swear, the clock was taking one tick forward and two ticks back!)
Much like today. Some teeny bopper is singing with Ninja Turtles on the tv. Butters is sleeping in the living room and I’m shivering at the kitchen table.
For the sake of not becoming hypothermic – I shall bid you all a Happy Thanksgiving (And Hanukkah!) and start one of my projects.
Thankful … every day
Thanksgiving is just around the corner.
I’ve been reading my friends daily statuses declaring what they’re thankful for – been skirting around the people hovering over the turkeys in the grocery stores, and rolling my eyes at the premature Christmas commercials.
Don’t get me wrong, I am not a Grinch.
I love this time of year – the Season that squeezes out a little extra joy from people. I don’t even mind the decorations being up early, it’s nice to see festive lights and warm sentiments on a chilly day.
That being said – I’m not really a ‘Thanksgiving Day’ fan.
For a few reasons. One being that I’m from England and didn’t grow up celebrating Thanksgiving. There is an equivalent in the UK, ‘Harvest Festival’ – I recall it lasted longer than one day, but the premise of being thankful and contributing food to the community was the same?
I also have a problem with the whole Pilgrim/Indian story angle. A tale of a peaceful, bountiful meal shared between two blended cultures. Historically accurate? Um, no. Here’s a great article: What Really Happened at the First Thanksgiving? The Wampanoag Side of the Tale
The Indians – Native Americans – were ultimately wronged. And you can color that however you want – but I’m not buying it. Not even if it’s on sale at midnight at one of the greedy chain stores.
Another reason I’m not a huge fan of the fourth Thursday of November … the day after it.
Black Friday is a most obnoxious example of consumerism. The fact that it comes directly on the heels of the day when people are supposedly thankful for what they have, just makes it even more obnoxious in my book.
The only part of Thanksgiving I can get behind, (other than eating stuffing and brussel sprouts) is the Giving of Thanks.
I’m of the mind that we should be doing this every day – but, the fact that a day is set aside for it is certainly a beautiful thing.
So, with 2013 drawing to a close – I’ll share with you what I am most thankful for this year.
Rainer
When I chose to watch the documentary Hitlers Children on May 25th – I had no idea what effect it would end up having on my life.
A random selection on a topic I wanted to know more about – turned out not to be so random. I was learning of Rainer’s existence on the day he came to exist. His birthday.
As I sat there, crying – completely undone by his need to be a part of some change in the world – to take something horrific and find something good to do with it – I was moved to write my post ‘There is Such Good.’
What happened after that was a chain of events that led to becoming a small part of his big world.
www.daserbedeskommandanten.com was born and more than that – something very special cemented between us after over a thousand conversations.
There IS such good – and Rainer is good. Er ist mein Held.
My friends
I have the most amazing friends. I don’t get to spend much time with them, but it doesn’t seem to matter. When we are together, it’s as if no time has passed.
From my sweet friend that has the uncanny ability to show up without me having to say ‘I need someone to show up’ – to the friends I work with who make every day magical and my California friends that reach out and keep me laughing via Facebook.
And then there is my ‘BF’. The miles that separate my best friend and I are creatively bridged with daily chats – sharing of jokes and photos, quotes and discussions. I miss her – but we are always connected. There isn’t a room in my home that doesn’t have a piece of her in it.
When I am going through hard times, or joyous ones – all of my friends are there for me. And I hope they know, I am always here for them.
I’m so fortunate to have people in my life who love me for who I am, who think differently than me, who are genuine and trustworthy. For that I am so blessed and very grateful.
This blog
I love to write almost as much as I love to read.
I’ve been able to purge and process major life events here with you. I am all over the place with this blog, I know, but, there is a common theme.
Life.
Motherhood, daily concerns, stress, happiness, gratitude and venting – all here. Interviews with amazing people and photographs of things that caught my eye. All here. All me. All shared.
I remember being so nervous about going public – but I had to be brave. I wrote for a while anonymously, with only a few trusted friends knowing where to find the blog. Now when I publish a new post – I immediately tell the world.
I really am an open book – I can’t comfortably function in life with secrets. I can’t comfortably live in my skin without truth.
This blog has been very comforting.
My job
Yes, it’s been a topic I’ve vented about. But, just work in particular, not my specific job. I love my job. The other day when I was walking to the kitchen in my building – I felt … at home. I love the people I work with. We are like a family. And, I am very aware that I am fortunate enough to have a job that makes a positive difference in people’s lives. I get to be a part of someone obtaining a home.
I am also very grateful for my part-time job – although I complain about that too. (I really need to stop complaining.) Again, it isn’t ‘the job’ that I vent about – it’s more so the fact that I have no choice but to do it.
I think I hoped that by 44, my ducks would be in more of a relaxed row – but I still struggle. Struggle is good – it makes us strong – but I think I’m done doing everything by myself now. I’m tired and ready for the next chapter in my life.
My son
Oh Nicholas. The center of my world. The person that genuinely makes me laugh out loud on a daily basis. The boy who taught me what true love was and became a man who teaches me more about myself than he knows. I would lay down and die without hesitation for my boy.
I also choose to live for him. To be the best person I am capable of being for him. I wanted to give him the world – and this year, I am so grateful that he was able to see some of it!
What started as a hopeful dream – a seemingly unobtainable goal – happened. It really happened. Nicholas spent a month and a half in England. He met family and friends, visited the city I was born and the street where I grew up.
I’m so grateful he was exposed to another culture – to history – to his own heritage. I hope he looks back on that trip with fondness for the rest of his life – and I pray he adds more adventures and never stops exploring our beautiful world.
Everything
Truly. Just … everything.
Everything I have, everything I don’t have. I am thankful for my family, music, art, dreams, stories, animals. For hope and love and butterflies in my stomach.
Everyday I am thankful for waking up. For the ability to see colors, hear sounds, smell fragrances – feel, hold, touch and to think (too much <– right Rainy? lol)
I am thankful for diversity, variety and for sameness too – I am thankful for humanity and … I am thankful for you.
It’s ‘Fine’
Yesterday, for a myriad of reasons – I was upset. Physically hurting and my emotional nerves exposed.
I was shamefully aware of my negative attitude.
I tried to sequester myself as much as I could, tried to limit the words that came out of my mouth – because I knew they were being tainted by my mood.
I still had to interact though – when people came to me. I kept my responses short – bit down on the bitchy verbal Tourette’s that strained to come out of my mouth.
I failed a couple of times – but owned it. I said to one person, ‘God, I’m sorry – I am being a completely unreasonable bitch.’
To be fair, (to myself for once), my responses were not completely unreasonable. But if there’s one thing I’ve practiced to a fairly consistent level of aptitude – it is choosing to filter my responses and to find a positive way to respond, rather than react.
Then my son called.
Why, oh why do we hurt the ones we love?
I think it has a lot to do with having more interaction with them than anyone, mixed with the arrogant assumption that our loved ones will forgive us. Also, lashing out stems from fear, and where there is great emotion – there is something that we care greatly about behind it.
The phone call came at a bad time, (Okay, any hour yesterday was a ‘bad time’) and unless he was calling to tell me he loved me and by the way, the house was clean, laundry done and a cake magically appeared in the fridge, there wasn’t anything he could have said to his advantage.
I was upset that he stayed up most of the night before – I was upset that our conversations about him doing more around the house had not resulted in him actually doing more around the house. I was upset that … let’s face it, I was just upset.
I spat words at him – and when he reacted – I struck again. Verbally. I reached a point where I could not be a part of the conversation any longer and … CLICK!
I hung up.
I’ve told him one of the worst things you can do is hang up on someone. It’s rude – it’s unkind – it’s immature. Apropos response on my behalf I suppose, considering I was being rude, unkind and immature.
5 O’Clock finally arrived.
I drove home – with my tail between my legs. (Which is a quite uncomfortable to sit by the way.)
When we finally spoke – I apologized. I calmly expressed my frustrations and we spoke eye to eye.
I apologized for the way I spoke to him and he said, “Mom, it’s fine.”
That didn’t sit well with me.
“No,” I said, “no it’s not fine. It may be forgivable – perhaps even to some degree understandable – but it is NOT ‘fine’ for someone to speak to you that way. Don’t you go through life thinking that it is.”
No matter how hurt, angry or exposed I feel, I will keep practicing the choice to respond positively – and if I can’t – I’ll practice removing myself from the situation until I can.
Because negative reactions are never ‘fine’.
fine1
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1.of high quality.“this was a fine piece of filmmaking”
synonyms: excellent, first-class, first-rate, great, exceptional, outstanding, quality, superior, splendid, magnificent, exquisite, choice, select, prime, supreme, superb, wonderful, superlative, of high quality, second to none; More “fine wines”antonyms: poor -
(of a person) worthy of or eliciting admiration.“what a fine human being he is”
synonyms: worthy, admirable, praiseworthy, laudable, estimable, upright, upstanding, respectable More “a fine citizen” -
good; satisfactory.“relations in the group were fine”
synonyms: all right, acceptable, suitable, good (enough), passable, satisfactory, adequate, reasonable, tolerable; More informalOK“the initiative is fine, but it’s not enough on its own”antonyms: unsatisfactory -
used to express one’s agreement with or acquiescence to something.“anything you want is fine by me, Linda”
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synonyms: impressive, imposing, striking, splendid, grand, majestic, magnificent, stately More “a fine old house”
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1.in a satisfactory or pleasing manner; very well.““And how’s the job-hunting going?” “Oh, fine.””
Musings from my bed: Laundromat procrastination
I should already have my laundry basket prepared … my detergent packed – my bed stripped. But, I’m too comfortable in it to strip it. Too snuggly in my soft pajamas to do anything but stay in this quiet moment.
It’s inevitable – if I want clean clothes and sheets – and I am fond of such things.
But just this moment – right this second – it is SO deliciously quiet and peaceful and calm.
I have my cup of coffee, of the home made fancy variety.
Butters is outside exploring. Nic is sleeping. And the sun is hitting my curtain in a way that makes me smile.
It’s been a long few days.
Nicholas is experiencing the joy of becoming wise – in a most painful way. Yes, the wisdom teeth.
Well, ‘tooth’ as far as we can tell with all of our dental training.
Unfortunately for my chipmunk – he has an infection (again, educated guess based on the level of pain and size of his cheek.)
Last night, as we sat on our opposing couches, he suddenly jumped up and rushed to the kitchen.
Me: What??!
Nic: I think something just happened.
(I pretty much knew ‘something’ must have happened because Nic doesn’t move that quickly off of furniture for ‘nothing’.)
It turns out, that ‘something’ was an abscess rupturing in his mouth.
Not pleasant.
Me: Rinse with warm salt water!!
(Nic was already holding the salt – note to self: He DOES listen and retain advice from time to time – keep giving it)
I should take a moment to explain why I am not a terrible mother for not having had him seen by a dentist yet.
We were pretty sure a wisdom tooth was coming in – and he was in pain. But, as I said to Nic, “Of course you’re in pain, you are teething.”
It wasn’t until Halloween that he developed the swollen face.
I’m not going to go into details and pity stories – the long and short of it is, we don’t have health or dental insurance and we don’t have ‘in case of emergency’ money.
I spent Friday at work trying to figure out how to get him to a dentist.
So after the great ‘rupture’ he was actually feeling better.
Nic: Mom, look, I think it’s a good thing. I can bite down now. I don’t think I have to go to the dentist!
Me: Um … an abscess popping in your mouth isn’t a check mark in the ‘reasons I DON’T have to go to the dentist’ column.
Then he was sad. Spitting remaining salt water and drool into his little spit cup.
We had engaged in conversation earlier about the reality of the situation. I assured him his health was priority one, but that might mean Christmas would not be the same under the tree.
We spoke again when I visited him in his room.
Nic: I don’t want you spending money or owing money
Me: It is what it is. It’s important! Money can be replaced. It’s silly isn’t it? These pieces of paper that we trade for goods and services. Sure, it would make things easier if we had more of it – but we don’t. We’re blessed though. Everything always works out. So, don’t worry about it.
And we are blessed.
We’re alive – have use of our limbs and our faculties. We have a home and food and snuggly pajamas. We have each other and Butters. We have clothes TO wash and transportation TO get to the place to wash them.
And we have sunlight playing on our curtains. And the kind of eyes and souls that notice such things – and smile.
Then the dam broke
“It’s just everything – it’s worrying about Christmas, and the car … and always having to worry about things like that – it’s doing it alone, but I wouldn’t have it any other way – what we have … and not feeling well and not being able to go to the doctor – it’s being stressed out and not having someone to talk to about it. Because they’re going to tell me not to feel a certain way when I DO feel that way. It must be okay to feel that way if I feel it?? It’s when people ask “Feeling better?” with a raised eyebrow because your answer had better be ‘yes’ … it’s not being allowed to feel sad because you’re the person who makes people laugh. And on top of it all, I don’t feel well. And I’m sad. I’m just … sad. And no, it’s not forever – and yes, it will pass and I’m so grateful – I’m grateful for everything we have and everything we don’t have … but I’m just … sad. And I should be allowed to feel sad.”
– Me, after telling my son I couldn’t possibly vent to him.
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I left work early today.
I couldn’t take one more second of holding myself upright when all I wanted to do was curl into a ball. I put a smile in my voice on the phone … and in front of customers who came into my office. I went above and beyond on my files – went in early today and cleaned. I pushed and pushed – and broke.
Monday I had a pretty bad ‘spell’ at work. Besides my heart condition – I think my body also tells me when it’s done holding things in.
My vision blurred in my right eye and my chest squeezed. I couldn’t get my bearings. I sat outside on a curb, taking purposeful breaths and feeling the wind on my skin until the spell mostly passed and went back in to work.
That’s what I do.
Remove myself, compose myself and return.
Yesterday I came very close to asking to use my barely used sick time. But I stuck it out. My ears have been hurting me – I’m dizzy and nauseated. But I stuck it out.
This morning, I came even closer to asking to use my barely used sick time – then remembered I had a meeting and had to approve a settlement statement so that a customer could sign their documents. So I went in.
I tied all the loose ends up and emailed both of my bosses asking to use 1/2 of a sick day.
The answer was yes.
I read an article yesterday on a hospice website. About the phases of death. I was making sure I was using ‘catabolic’ correctly in my last post. A catabolic state is when your body can no longer process nourishment – it’s so starved for it – it starts breaking itself down.
That’s how I understood it anyway.
And that’s how I have been feeling. Like there has been no nourishing input lately – that I’m sustaining myself and breaking down all my reserves.
So after my grand monologue that I wasn’t going to give in front of my son, I ended with, “I just want to hear ‘everything is going to be ok'”
To which my son replied, “Everything is going to be ok”
And when he hugged me – I sobbed harder. And he didn’t tell me I wasn’t allowed to feel sad.
I love him so very much.
The sky this morning
Debauchery Soup 