I'm listening to Jeff Buckley's version of Hallelujah, because I love the lyric "Well love is not a victory march, it's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah..." What a great song.
Anyway, the boys are (well were - Hubby just woke up) konked out after an exciting, gift-loaded, busy Christmas Eve day, so I have Pretty In Pink on the tv, muted because I can practically recite it line by line (I love John Hughes) and pulling up interesting videos on YouTube. You see, I live quite the exciting life donchaknow?
I am largely uninspired to write any poetry or anything like that, although I am quite angst-filled as usual. The holidays are not a good time for me. I get anxious - more anxious - and I just am forever wishing them away. It's a little better now that G is here but nevertheless - I'm ready for them to be over.
So tonight, I am just introspective, thinking that another year has gone by, I've hit another birthday (and am far older than I'd like to consider let alone admit), and yet here I sit, in the same quagmire that's plagued me for nearly a decade now. When you've been in such a state of uncertainty - or seeming uncertainty - for that long, maybe it's just your life, you know?
My Christmas-y duties are over and in a few short hours, my rambunctious 8.5 year old will tear into our room and demand we go check out his loot. What he doesn't know is that I know he will also be testing out his "Is Santa real?" experiment. I think he's going to find out the reality/truth - but whether or not he'll let on - well, I guess we'll see.
Merry stinkin' Christmas to all my grinchy friends out there - and for those of you who love Christmas - enjoy it. I'll never quite get it.
Friday, December 24, 2010
Friday, December 17, 2010
my kid is totally awesome sometimes
G has been having some struggles at school lately...and one of the ways he amazes me is related to that. He had a particularly rough week last week. He's been doing much better but was put in a couple of situations (purposely and accidentally) that tested the coping skills he's been working on improving.
Given that...we ran into his school social worker on our way into the amusing yet painful holiday concert this week. He grabbed us because he wanted to tell us a way in which G had surprised him. The previous Friday, at the end of his difficult week, G sought out the social worker - he found him in the hall on the way to a special of some sort and said "Mr. S - I'm having a tough week. I'd like to come see you." As it turns out, Mr. S had availability at lunchtime, so he offered to have lunch with G. They did and i guess they had a good long talk. But what Mr. S wanted us to know was that he's never had a 3rd grader ask for his time. 'The younger kids are sent to me - they don't ask for me. So G showing that kind of maturity....it's very unusual.'
I was pleasantly surprised and proud of him. He struggles to keep his emotions in check, but he's wise beyond his years in that he knows that's a challenge for him - so he is trying to work at it.
In a totally unrelated situation - we were sitting at home the other day when G made some sort of noise in reaction to something I said. I said "What did you say?"
"MOM - I stifled a laugh." (He said stifled as STIFF-uhld, not sty-fuld but still.)
"Honey, it's sty-fuld - but good job. How do you know that word/"
"Oh you know me, Mom. I read a lot."
I was reading on Babycenter.com (my Internet home for the last 9 years) the other day about when people think you really KNOW your kids and see them as individuals. For me, it started at around age 6 - but moments like this confirm to me that G is absolutely entrenched in his very own, startling cool, smart, funny, kind, and amazing personality.
WOW.
Given that...we ran into his school social worker on our way into the amusing yet painful holiday concert this week. He grabbed us because he wanted to tell us a way in which G had surprised him. The previous Friday, at the end of his difficult week, G sought out the social worker - he found him in the hall on the way to a special of some sort and said "Mr. S - I'm having a tough week. I'd like to come see you." As it turns out, Mr. S had availability at lunchtime, so he offered to have lunch with G. They did and i guess they had a good long talk. But what Mr. S wanted us to know was that he's never had a 3rd grader ask for his time. 'The younger kids are sent to me - they don't ask for me. So G showing that kind of maturity....it's very unusual.'
I was pleasantly surprised and proud of him. He struggles to keep his emotions in check, but he's wise beyond his years in that he knows that's a challenge for him - so he is trying to work at it.
In a totally unrelated situation - we were sitting at home the other day when G made some sort of noise in reaction to something I said. I said "What did you say?"
"MOM - I stifled a laugh." (He said stifled as STIFF-uhld, not sty-fuld but still.)
"Honey, it's sty-fuld - but good job. How do you know that word/"
"Oh you know me, Mom. I read a lot."
I was reading on Babycenter.com (my Internet home for the last 9 years) the other day about when people think you really KNOW your kids and see them as individuals. For me, it started at around age 6 - but moments like this confirm to me that G is absolutely entrenched in his very own, startling cool, smart, funny, kind, and amazing personality.
WOW.
they're back...they're back...
After a brief hiatus, the mean girls are back.
I was picked on as a kid. I started off in the small town "popular" crowd until a falling out with the ring leader in the second grade. From then on, I was a fringe kind of a girl. I went through a period of horrible teasing between fourth and seventh grade no thank to my particularly cruel fourth grade teacher, who coined an unpleasant nickname for me. The teasing finally subsided after that, and I found my groove as a reluctant quasi-leader of the oddballs, a collection of jocks and artsy types who rallied against the popular clique and - although I can only speak for myself - especially some high quality teenage angst wondering why we were so - well - perceived as so weird.
But luckily, I managed to avoid any cruelty thrust upon me. In retrospect, I think my isolation was a little self-imposed, and I survived relatively unscathed.
College was a breeze - there, I wasn't actually THAT nerdy (ah, the benefits of attending an Ivy League college) and I reinvented myself as a more self-confident version of that weird kid from high school.
I thought my days of worrying about bitches and bullies was long since past me by the time I hit my 30s.
I was wrong.
I've been dealing with a bully for the last - oh almost 18 months now. The reasons she's bullying me are, quite frankly, ridiculous childish crap. I understand that she has her own motivations and that perhaps, in her head, they allow her to rationalize what she's doing but the bottom line is - she's just a mean, nasty, and vindictive person.
The bullying actually started, really, 2+ years ago now, but it was so subtle that I just kind of let it go, assuming that she was reacting to me as many people do. Because I can be a bit shy at first, and because I'm allegedly smart and don't hide my smartness (whatever THAT means), I know a lot of people assume I'm a snob (I don't think I am). I find that because of that, I occasionally have people react to me in a standoffish way. So...I figured that was the issue.
Then the nastiness started. There were dirty looks and - well - sounds in the hall. Grunts. Pretty, right? But I have no patience for this shit, nor do I have the luxury of time or energy to deal with it. So I took the path of ignoring it. I figured it would go away, it was a bunch of ridiculous bullshit anyway.
It didn't, at least not for a while. It got worse, there were acts towards me that reeked of an intimidation attempt. Problem is, I'm not an awkward nerdy 14 year old anymore. She wasn't going to win. My path of least resistance, of ignoring that shit, continued.
Eventually, it worked - a little. Things seemed to calm down enough to where it was manageable. Don't get me wrong, I'd like to be able to walk to the bathroom without a dirty mushface look - but again, it isn't worth me going after her, even dealing with it.
In the last 3 weeks, the effort has revamped. There are now snide comments if I walk past.
Really? I'm 37 years old. I have a career I love and a family that drives me bonkers in a mostly good way. I have a busy, hectic life, and I turned my back on high school in 1991.
So why the hell am I subjected to this shit?
And furthermore...
...what kind of person behaves like that? I realize that I am no angel. I frustrate people and I've been told I intimidate people, and i sure as hell make plenty of mistakes. But as someone who was once teased, as someone who tries to spend the better part of her life being kind and compassionate - I simply can't imagine ever going out of my way to be cruel to someone.
I think that's the part that gets me the most. I've never done a damn thing to this person. At all. In fact, I've gone through periods of time where I've been pleasant to her.
And yet she goes out of her way to be nasty to me. And based on our latest interaction - she's quite proud of herself and gets some sort of pleasure in it.
Not only does that hurt me - it cuts me deeply and plagues me with my own self-doubt. that's the worst of it. I can't help but wonder if maybe i'm not as great as maybe I think I am. Maybe I am a bitch, maybe I am cold or snobby. Maybe I should look inside myself - maybe these names she's calling me are right on.
Thanks, mean girl, for rupturing what little self-esteem I have sometimes. I hope someday karma bites you in your flat ass. In the meantime, you've managed to shake me - so I guess you've won. I wish you and your gaggle of brainless followers would just leave me alone. At the end of the day, I really haven't done anything to you. I realize why you're mad, in your catty and nasty way - but none of that was me, and all of it is ancient history.
So please, let me be.
I was picked on as a kid. I started off in the small town "popular" crowd until a falling out with the ring leader in the second grade. From then on, I was a fringe kind of a girl. I went through a period of horrible teasing between fourth and seventh grade no thank to my particularly cruel fourth grade teacher, who coined an unpleasant nickname for me. The teasing finally subsided after that, and I found my groove as a reluctant quasi-leader of the oddballs, a collection of jocks and artsy types who rallied against the popular clique and - although I can only speak for myself - especially some high quality teenage angst wondering why we were so - well - perceived as so weird.
But luckily, I managed to avoid any cruelty thrust upon me. In retrospect, I think my isolation was a little self-imposed, and I survived relatively unscathed.
College was a breeze - there, I wasn't actually THAT nerdy (ah, the benefits of attending an Ivy League college) and I reinvented myself as a more self-confident version of that weird kid from high school.
I thought my days of worrying about bitches and bullies was long since past me by the time I hit my 30s.
I was wrong.
I've been dealing with a bully for the last - oh almost 18 months now. The reasons she's bullying me are, quite frankly, ridiculous childish crap. I understand that she has her own motivations and that perhaps, in her head, they allow her to rationalize what she's doing but the bottom line is - she's just a mean, nasty, and vindictive person.
The bullying actually started, really, 2+ years ago now, but it was so subtle that I just kind of let it go, assuming that she was reacting to me as many people do. Because I can be a bit shy at first, and because I'm allegedly smart and don't hide my smartness (whatever THAT means), I know a lot of people assume I'm a snob (I don't think I am). I find that because of that, I occasionally have people react to me in a standoffish way. So...I figured that was the issue.
Then the nastiness started. There were dirty looks and - well - sounds in the hall. Grunts. Pretty, right? But I have no patience for this shit, nor do I have the luxury of time or energy to deal with it. So I took the path of ignoring it. I figured it would go away, it was a bunch of ridiculous bullshit anyway.
It didn't, at least not for a while. It got worse, there were acts towards me that reeked of an intimidation attempt. Problem is, I'm not an awkward nerdy 14 year old anymore. She wasn't going to win. My path of least resistance, of ignoring that shit, continued.
Eventually, it worked - a little. Things seemed to calm down enough to where it was manageable. Don't get me wrong, I'd like to be able to walk to the bathroom without a dirty mushface look - but again, it isn't worth me going after her, even dealing with it.
In the last 3 weeks, the effort has revamped. There are now snide comments if I walk past.
Really? I'm 37 years old. I have a career I love and a family that drives me bonkers in a mostly good way. I have a busy, hectic life, and I turned my back on high school in 1991.
So why the hell am I subjected to this shit?
And furthermore...
...what kind of person behaves like that? I realize that I am no angel. I frustrate people and I've been told I intimidate people, and i sure as hell make plenty of mistakes. But as someone who was once teased, as someone who tries to spend the better part of her life being kind and compassionate - I simply can't imagine ever going out of my way to be cruel to someone.
I think that's the part that gets me the most. I've never done a damn thing to this person. At all. In fact, I've gone through periods of time where I've been pleasant to her.
And yet she goes out of her way to be nasty to me. And based on our latest interaction - she's quite proud of herself and gets some sort of pleasure in it.
Not only does that hurt me - it cuts me deeply and plagues me with my own self-doubt. that's the worst of it. I can't help but wonder if maybe i'm not as great as maybe I think I am. Maybe I am a bitch, maybe I am cold or snobby. Maybe I should look inside myself - maybe these names she's calling me are right on.
Thanks, mean girl, for rupturing what little self-esteem I have sometimes. I hope someday karma bites you in your flat ass. In the meantime, you've managed to shake me - so I guess you've won. I wish you and your gaggle of brainless followers would just leave me alone. At the end of the day, I really haven't done anything to you. I realize why you're mad, in your catty and nasty way - but none of that was me, and all of it is ancient history.
So please, let me be.
Friday, December 3, 2010
is lonely a new theme?
I was overcome with a sense of loneliness again today. It hit my like a sharp wind you didn't hear until it blew your hair across your face and in your ear. I wasn't doing anything special - in fact, I was at work, surrounded by people, running down the hall to do something last minute before I got the hell out of there.
I felt almost punched by it. But there it was. I realized in that instant that I wasn't really the cranky I'd told people I was all day. I was deeply, sadly, horribly lonely.
And I thought, in that instance, that there wasn't any one reason for it. There for millions - little things like a hurtful snip made at my yesterday; big things like confusing and complicated relationships; insurmountable things like a problem that isn't going away and doesn't appear to be fixable.
I need to address this loneliness, though, because it feels so incredibly isolating. As lonely as I feel, I only sometimes desire company. In that moment, when I realized how lonely I was, I didn't want to go talk to my collegue about this 11th hour crap we needed to finish. I didn't want to go home to the kid I love so much. I didn't want to meet a friend for drinks.
I wanted to sit in my car and BE lonely. And cry a little and wonder where the hell I'm going. How I'm going to fix this.
I felt almost punched by it. But there it was. I realized in that instant that I wasn't really the cranky I'd told people I was all day. I was deeply, sadly, horribly lonely.
And I thought, in that instance, that there wasn't any one reason for it. There for millions - little things like a hurtful snip made at my yesterday; big things like confusing and complicated relationships; insurmountable things like a problem that isn't going away and doesn't appear to be fixable.
I need to address this loneliness, though, because it feels so incredibly isolating. As lonely as I feel, I only sometimes desire company. In that moment, when I realized how lonely I was, I didn't want to go talk to my collegue about this 11th hour crap we needed to finish. I didn't want to go home to the kid I love so much. I didn't want to meet a friend for drinks.
I wanted to sit in my car and BE lonely. And cry a little and wonder where the hell I'm going. How I'm going to fix this.
one word
One word
Can make your knees buckle
One word
Your heart will race
One word
You life will change forever
What you say
Can mean
Even more
Than what you do
They say words are just words
Sometimes, yes
But often, no
It's muttered under a breath
It's said in supposed jest
It's blurted out without forethought
Or consideration of feelings
It's delivered slowly and sadly
Knowing its weight
Knowing it will mean
That the face of life will forever be changed.
It jabs like a knife
It sings
It causes an ache so deep
You want to run and hide.
That word - you don't react
Or you can't react
You cry, you gasp, you become
a ball of fury.
Do you use your own word
as a retaliation?
Do you turn around and deliver
your own blow?
You may want to
But can you?
What's the response?
How do you adjust, absorb, forgive, go on?
Can make your knees buckle
One word
Your heart will race
One word
You life will change forever
What you say
Can mean
Even more
Than what you do
They say words are just words
Sometimes, yes
But often, no
It's muttered under a breath
It's said in supposed jest
It's blurted out without forethought
Or consideration of feelings
It's delivered slowly and sadly
Knowing its weight
Knowing it will mean
That the face of life will forever be changed.
It jabs like a knife
It sings
It causes an ache so deep
You want to run and hide.
That word - you don't react
Or you can't react
You cry, you gasp, you become
a ball of fury.
Do you use your own word
as a retaliation?
Do you turn around and deliver
your own blow?
You may want to
But can you?
What's the response?
How do you adjust, absorb, forgive, go on?
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
one down, 2 or 3 to go
The first in the charming series of craptastic, guilt-riddled, bullshit events the average person refers to as the winter holidays is over. You'll note that I took 2 days off of work in part to recuperate from the typical level of crap that was involved in the "celebration". I'm spent. Now I get to look forward to a birthday with a black cloud, Christmas of overindulgence, and New Years of uncertain plans. Yay.
As I mentioned, my last 2 days were work-free for recuperation purposes. There is some odd irony in that, by the end of today, I was feeling keyed up and anxious. Days off leave me feeling a little off-kilter, maybe because they are pretty rare for me, and days off alone, like the last 2 were, are a once or twice a year event.
I am obviously a thinking, an introspective person who's constantly challenging herself to look at things from different angles, which results in almost immediate overthinking of situations.
A day off is no different.
Yesterday was fine. I got up and got G off to school, came home and took my time - leisurely - getting myself ready for my day. I went out for some retail therapy and spent the rest of the afternoon doing a whole boatload of absolutely nothing except eating far too much of G's Halloween candy.
Side note - retail therapy is a double-edged sword for me. Now that I am older (not wiser) and I have an adult woman's body, I've found a few stores where the clothing really works for me. Of course, these stores aren't cheap, but then again, their clothes don't shrink after the first wash. I enjoy going to them - I especially enjoyed visiting the one I went to on Monday since, in celebration of Cyber Monday, they had 40% off everything in store (how lovely). This store happens to have sizes that run a bit big, which means my normally size 6 self is a size 4 in some of their styles. How enjoyable - I haven't been a 4 since high school. I really thoroughly basked in the glow of trying on pants that fit not only my ass but also my waist (as a size 6 with a big ass, I tend to get about 3 inches of "gap" when I try on pants -fun fun even with a low-rider thong).
BUT - I also hate to spend money. I hate it. It gives me serious anxiety. So there I was, weilding my 40% off coupon, doing the math as to the discounted price in my head, trying to determine whether or not I really *should* spend $27 on a sweater.
I hate that. UGH.
But I digress - that minor stress, which I overcame by splitting the difference and buying a few good pieces, but not the whole load of crap I brought into the dressing room on my 2 trips (LOL), isn't the point.
The point is today. Today, I had nothing planned. Due to my feeling miserly after yesterday's shopping, I wasn't setting foot inside a store, and the purchases I made online were for Gregg for Christmas (and pre-planned).
Ah...so my time was 100% mine, big ass firmly planted in MY spot on MY couch.
Except my head...oh here it goes.
I got thinking about how weird it was to be at home during the day on a workday. There is something oddly unsettling about it. I mean, I know I'm employed but, let's face it, the economy sucks it. It's scary. I feel like I'm forever holding my breath. I've been through layoffs - at 5 and then 7 months pregnant noless - and I don't want to go down that road again. I am watching friends go through that hell now.
So I started thinking about it, and worrying about it, and wondering what the hell I'd do. It scared me and, frankly, I ruined my last 3 free hours thinking about it.
Why I do this to myself I'll never know but let me say this - being a thinker - it definitely has its drawbacks.
So now I have Tuesday night dread - but at least I'm going back to a job tomorrow. I have to remember that that makes me blessed. In light of some things that went on this holiday, some news we got - I need that to be my mantra. I am blessed.
As I mentioned, my last 2 days were work-free for recuperation purposes. There is some odd irony in that, by the end of today, I was feeling keyed up and anxious. Days off leave me feeling a little off-kilter, maybe because they are pretty rare for me, and days off alone, like the last 2 were, are a once or twice a year event.
I am obviously a thinking, an introspective person who's constantly challenging herself to look at things from different angles, which results in almost immediate overthinking of situations.
A day off is no different.
Yesterday was fine. I got up and got G off to school, came home and took my time - leisurely - getting myself ready for my day. I went out for some retail therapy and spent the rest of the afternoon doing a whole boatload of absolutely nothing except eating far too much of G's Halloween candy.
Side note - retail therapy is a double-edged sword for me. Now that I am older (not wiser) and I have an adult woman's body, I've found a few stores where the clothing really works for me. Of course, these stores aren't cheap, but then again, their clothes don't shrink after the first wash. I enjoy going to them - I especially enjoyed visiting the one I went to on Monday since, in celebration of Cyber Monday, they had 40% off everything in store (how lovely). This store happens to have sizes that run a bit big, which means my normally size 6 self is a size 4 in some of their styles. How enjoyable - I haven't been a 4 since high school. I really thoroughly basked in the glow of trying on pants that fit not only my ass but also my waist (as a size 6 with a big ass, I tend to get about 3 inches of "gap" when I try on pants -fun fun even with a low-rider thong).
BUT - I also hate to spend money. I hate it. It gives me serious anxiety. So there I was, weilding my 40% off coupon, doing the math as to the discounted price in my head, trying to determine whether or not I really *should* spend $27 on a sweater.
I hate that. UGH.
But I digress - that minor stress, which I overcame by splitting the difference and buying a few good pieces, but not the whole load of crap I brought into the dressing room on my 2 trips (LOL), isn't the point.
The point is today. Today, I had nothing planned. Due to my feeling miserly after yesterday's shopping, I wasn't setting foot inside a store, and the purchases I made online were for Gregg for Christmas (and pre-planned).
Ah...so my time was 100% mine, big ass firmly planted in MY spot on MY couch.
Except my head...oh here it goes.
I got thinking about how weird it was to be at home during the day on a workday. There is something oddly unsettling about it. I mean, I know I'm employed but, let's face it, the economy sucks it. It's scary. I feel like I'm forever holding my breath. I've been through layoffs - at 5 and then 7 months pregnant noless - and I don't want to go down that road again. I am watching friends go through that hell now.
So I started thinking about it, and worrying about it, and wondering what the hell I'd do. It scared me and, frankly, I ruined my last 3 free hours thinking about it.
Why I do this to myself I'll never know but let me say this - being a thinker - it definitely has its drawbacks.
So now I have Tuesday night dread - but at least I'm going back to a job tomorrow. I have to remember that that makes me blessed. In light of some things that went on this holiday, some news we got - I need that to be my mantra. I am blessed.
Monday, November 22, 2010
and another happy holiday season begins
My patience with the holiday bullshit is wearing very very thin.
I'm old. I'm almost 37 no thanks to a looming holiday that is, cursedly, smack dab in the middle of said holiday bullshit. I want to spend my holiday not working, with my immediately family, and with people I like. I don't want to deal with guilt, or crap, or fair, or any other such nonsense.
Period.
It never fucking happens.
I vowed that this year would be different. This year it would work itself out with some help and gentle pushing from me.
I was wrong.
Fan-fucking-tabulous. ARGH.
I'm old. I'm almost 37 no thanks to a looming holiday that is, cursedly, smack dab in the middle of said holiday bullshit. I want to spend my holiday not working, with my immediately family, and with people I like. I don't want to deal with guilt, or crap, or fair, or any other such nonsense.
Period.
It never fucking happens.
I vowed that this year would be different. This year it would work itself out with some help and gentle pushing from me.
I was wrong.
Fan-fucking-tabulous. ARGH.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)