Posts Tagged With: taking time

didja miss me?

When Thing 2 was in second grade her teacher went on maternity leave. The substitute teacher was a man with precious little personality.
Seriously, we parents had many a conversation that went a bit like, WTF is up with this dude?
Anyway…
Thing 2 had been home sick and upon returning to school, she burst through the door and announced, “DIDJA MISS ME!?! (possibly like this)

Cut to Thing 2 getting off the bus that afternoon as I stand at the end of our driveway: *recounts story (may or may not have done the move)* and says, Momma! (all indignant-like) Everyone cheered except Mr M. (may or may not have stomped her foot here) He didn’t even look up!
My daughter was so fucking offended by the audacity of this teacher to be underwhelmed at her return.

I share this story because as I began to write, I thought (in Thing 2’s seven year old voice) Didja miss me!?!
I gotta say I missed y’all.
If you missed me too, thanks.
If you didn’t, no worries, I’m not offended by your audacity to be underwhelmed at my return.

I find myself missing writing.
I find myself lacking the desire to say anything.

So here’s a quick recap of what’s up in my world since we last spoke…
YBW tested positive for COVID the day before Mother’s Day. He was feverish and achy for about three days but once his fever broke he was simply congested and had a weird lingering cough.
International Week of the Birthday began on Mother’s Day, so needless to say, there wasn’t much to celebrate.
School finally ended the middle of June. It was a tricky school year and I wasn’t sad to see the end of it.
Spent a (hotter than balls) day at Nats Park with our darling nephew.
We went to visit Thing 2 and Boyfriend M in late June. Finally getting to be in their new home!
I got new ink.

Of course, the normal stuff: loads of Baby K time, read fourteen books, bubbly day with Holly, farmer’s market mornings…

I feel like I’ve had so much on my mind, so many awful and lovely little fish swimming around in my brain. I don’t feel like I’ve been able to chronicle any of it, I just had to live it.
Thoughts hatching all over the place, and thoughts refusing to hatch.

And you know, that’s OK.
Perhaps I needed a brain break.
I feel like I’m ready to come back swingin’.

Categories: me | Tags: , , , , , | 2 Comments

thoughts that hatch in the middle of the night

It’s the middle of the night and I’ve been up for hours. Thoughts swim around in my brain. Angry little fish bumping into each other but never giving way to get anywhere.
I don’t write. Not even in my journal.
I don’t read.
I barely even scroll instagram.

I want to do these things. I just don’t.
You may find yourself wondering, mais pourquoi pas? (You also may find yourself having no fucks to give. Either way, we’re cool.)
I don’t know why.
I do know I’m not behaving in my normal way and that has everything to do with it.
I do know I’m feeling the pressure of getting ready to leave one house and get settled into another.

I find it difficult to just be.
There are more people in the house. Two of which I am especially eager to spend time with after being apart for so long. But I’m used to being alone more than I’m with other humans.
This situation is tricky but can be managed.
I need to take time for myself. I need to read and write. I need to journal. I need to organize and prioritize. I need to rest.
But damn if I don’t want to spend as much time as possible with the mad little toddler running around my house!

Thing 1 and I talked a little bit about this Wednesday morning. She’s used to being more quiet too. She’s got the mental load for her little family with the curious situation of being in someone else’s house. She’s constantly aware of what Baby K or the dogs are and what they’re doing. She’s adapting to being an adult while living with her mother. It’s easy to fall into old patterns.

I’m tired of feeding five adults and a toddler.
If I don’t feel like feeding YBW and myself, it’s no big. But now all these other people are depending on being fed. Now, Husband N is quick to ask if he can help do anything, and follows detailed directions well. And Thing 1 does cook occasionally, but for the most part I’m doing the heavy lifting.
This needs to stop.
Thing 1 and I will make a meal plan and create a schedule of who cooks when and that will solve this situation.
We’re both game, we just haven’t done it yet.

Thing G will move to his mother’s over the next ten days. (She lives five minutes away so it’s not going to be a ‘great big move’ it’s just him shuttling his stuff over there.)
This makes YBW sad.
I feel his sadness.
I also feel a bit of relief. Thing G is one thing I can stop actively concerning myself with in this time when I have so many things on my plate. I can slip him off the plate knowing he’s safe and well loved at his mom’s and give myself that small sense of one less thing to pay attention to.

Baby K is exhausting.
Parenting is a young person’s game. That’s why grandparents are a bit older. Forty nine years and sixteen months are not always the perfect combination. But I cannot express my love, joy, and gratitude that I have this opportunity to be with her. To watch her learn and grow. To experience her sense of humor. To build a strong relationship with her.
I understand how truly blessed I am to be involved in her daily life no matter how tired I get.
She’s nearly mastered coming down the stairs in a safe way! And not only do I get to witness that, I’m helping her learn how to do it!

I miss YBW.
We’re never alone anymore. Which is simply the way it is, but I didn’t realize how it would feel.
I suggested we do a ‘date night’ even if we don’t go out, just plan to be together.

We’ve offered to look after Baby K so her parents can spend time together.
It would do them some good to just be.

It’s been just over a month. Literally, less than forty days. We’re still in survival and adjustment mode. I mean, good God, how could we not be? But survival mode simply isn’t sustainable.
Now’s the time to get our selves organized. Our routines. How we choose to be in this house together as one big family. How we choose to be in this house together as two small families.
I know we can do this.
I know we’re all willing to do this.
I think we’re all at a place where we kind of know we need to tweak it.
All it takes is open and honest communication and a willingness to be flexible.

You know, I’m feeling better already just from writing about it.
Of course, I’m still not ready to sleep…
Maybe I’ll take a nap with Baby K later today?

Categories: me | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , | 9 Comments

what I really really want

I saw this sign at Home Goods and I had the feeling it was in my face for a reason.
Are The Powers That Be trying to tell me something or am I just overthinking again?

It took me a long time to accept that I was unable to label my feelings regarding that rejection letter from Mason.
And tbph, that only happened in my therapist’s office. When I tried to describe how I felt about it, I was at a loss. I was able to define some feelings, but nothing really felt quite right.
She asked me if I needed to label it to move forward.
I honestly had to pause and consider that for a moment. My reactive response was ‘yes’. My mindful response was ‘no’.
Y’all, that ‘no’ was freeing!

It occurred to me I only chose Mason because it was convenient. It’s got a good program and it’s about 30-45 minutes from home.
I have no real affection for the University. I mean it’s my husband’s alma mater, but I didn’t know him then.
I applied there because it was convenient not because I was passionate about it.

That realization shed light on my seeming inability to label my feelings.
Perhaps I felt ambivalent about the rejection because I felt ambivalent about the school.
I wasn’t sad about not getting what I wanted from a place I didn’t care about getting it from.
(Please ignore the grammatical chaos of that sentence and try to glean the deeper meaning.)

I didn’t care about going into the program at Mason.
I cared about going into the program.
I did some research.
I found some online universities that offer the program.
I requested information.
I’ll be following up with calls in the coming days.

I’m still thinking about this clinical mental health program.
I’m still thinking about being a therapist/counselor.
I did not stop working on it.
I took the time I needed to discover how I felt about what I really wanted, and why.
Just because I took that time didn’t mean I wasn’t working.

I used that time to suss out what I really wanted.
What I really want is a clinical mental health degree.
Doesn’t matter where I earn it.

Categories: me | Tags: , , , , , , , | 5 Comments

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