Things that suck:
1. I am feeling pretty crappy and the person I usually look to for comfort is the one making me feel crappy.
2. My friend's little girl has a diagnosis. Very rare peripheral T-cell lymphoma. Rarely found in kids. Never found in the brain. I feel sad and paralyzed with not being able to do anything to help.
3. It's ridiculously cold (school is actually cancelled tomorrow).
4. I'm starting to get the kids' gunk and feel less than stellar but I have a huge client meeting tomorrow that I CANNOT miss.
5. Work (see number 4).
6. Teenage girls are moody, annoying and are excellent at saying mean things that make you feel so very less than.
7. Still needing to take down Christmas decorations.
8. After two weeks relatively off from school, sports, etc. we're back to our normal level of crazy.
Things that do NOT suck:
1. Winning indoor soccer games, scoring tons of goals and having your teammates send sweet emails about your play all day.
2. A kind therapist named Harriet who also thinks one's spouse is being an ass (see item #1).
3. 6 year olds.
4. Pulled pork in the croc pot so you don't have to scramble for dinner.
5. Good music.
6. Good books.
7. Internet friends.
8. Trader Joe's dark chocolate covered pretzels.
9. Funny texts from good friends.
10. Having a "things that do NOT suck" list longer than a "things that suck" list.
Showing posts with label work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label work. Show all posts
Monday, January 6, 2014
Wednesday, November 13, 2013
Profound
Profound. (adjective) having or showing great knowledge or understanding; difficult to understand requiring deep thought or wisdom; very strongly felt.
The past week has been an onslaught of profundity. I felt feelings so strong that my body has been wracked with sobs. I have felt feelings of such love my body has felt flush with warmth. I've been intellectually pushed trying to tackle a tough problem at work. I've once again been faced with questions of why and struggled with ways to take pain away from those I love.
This has left me tired. My brain is sludgy. The world seems a bit fuzzy and my bed sounds lovely (ironically this is kinda how the meds made me feel). Given this state, this post is going to have to be a list of randoms who have really nothing in common other that the intensity of the emotions they aroused.
1. Jeanne's birthday this year was really hard. I was on the verge of crying pretty much constantly the day before, the actual day and the day after. The four years since her death are for some reason becoming very real. Next week I'll be older than she was when she died. Sigh.
2. The girls had a rough week too. Poor M finally broke down Wednesday night and cried for about 45 minutes. It upset the entire family. My sweet boys and her loving uncle finally pulled her out of it. E couldn't handle it and proceeded to complain about not having socks and the low sodium ham I bought. Her modus operandi tends to be complaining about laundry, food and mysterious ailments when she can't deal with the heavy emotions coming her way. At least she's consistent.
3. I worked for four straight days (Frid to Mon) all day and till very late at night trying to get a deliverable done. It was really hard work and the response from my boss was less than enthusiastic and we've yet to hear from the client. At least I was working with C on this and I hunkered down on my bed for a change of scenary (and I can close the door). K and A were at a soccer tourney down in Richmond (yay! they won!) so at least I didn't have that distraction.
4. Our 18th anniversary was Monday. See item #3 and you'll understand how our day went. The kids were off from school so he schlepped the boys around to get haircuts, mowed the lawn and brought home pizza for dinner. It sucked. But at the end of the day, this funny, kind and smart guy is still around and we love each other very much. We may not always be able to show each other given the craziness of our life, but I know he will always be there.
5. Tuesday brought parent teacher conferences for the little (or not so little) kids. All four got great report cards for them. M is holding her own somehow and the consistent message I got from her teachers is that she is trying and engaged in the classroom. She tests terribly, but our hope for her to get an education and the grades in the end don't really matter. The tough conference for some reason was little L's. He's doing great in school, but she commented that he seems tired and gets weepy sometimes when things seem hard. She also said we need to read with him more at home. So first my mommy guilt went into overdrive because I don't read to and with him as much as I should. Then I looked at her and explained that he doesn't always get the best sleep. He's in our bed most nights around three. On Sunday night he couldn't get to sleep because he doesn't want to go to heaven. She looked at me blankly. I thought most teachers at the small school we go to knew our whole story. I tried to explain that he still has a lot of anxiety and that the changes in our house still make it hard for him. "Oh, the girls live with you all the time? I thought you shared them or something." Good lord. She quickly said something about him telling the whole class about the balloons and we moved on. It reminded me that while we still live with tragedy everyday, other people just see us as a normal family. This is strangely good and bad.
6. A little girl in our neighborhood was just diagnosed with a brain tumor. I'm friends with her mom and it is rocking out little neighborhood. Surgery was this morning and it went well. We're waiting to hear the results. So sad. So very very sad.
So instead of working for my annoying client I'm sitting her writing a blog post. I wish I had some profound insight into the above list. A nugget of wisdom like those pictures one sees tagged on facebook or pinterest. I got nothing.
The past week has been an onslaught of profundity. I felt feelings so strong that my body has been wracked with sobs. I have felt feelings of such love my body has felt flush with warmth. I've been intellectually pushed trying to tackle a tough problem at work. I've once again been faced with questions of why and struggled with ways to take pain away from those I love.
This has left me tired. My brain is sludgy. The world seems a bit fuzzy and my bed sounds lovely (ironically this is kinda how the meds made me feel). Given this state, this post is going to have to be a list of randoms who have really nothing in common other that the intensity of the emotions they aroused.
1. Jeanne's birthday this year was really hard. I was on the verge of crying pretty much constantly the day before, the actual day and the day after. The four years since her death are for some reason becoming very real. Next week I'll be older than she was when she died. Sigh.
2. The girls had a rough week too. Poor M finally broke down Wednesday night and cried for about 45 minutes. It upset the entire family. My sweet boys and her loving uncle finally pulled her out of it. E couldn't handle it and proceeded to complain about not having socks and the low sodium ham I bought. Her modus operandi tends to be complaining about laundry, food and mysterious ailments when she can't deal with the heavy emotions coming her way. At least she's consistent.
3. I worked for four straight days (Frid to Mon) all day and till very late at night trying to get a deliverable done. It was really hard work and the response from my boss was less than enthusiastic and we've yet to hear from the client. At least I was working with C on this and I hunkered down on my bed for a change of scenary (and I can close the door). K and A were at a soccer tourney down in Richmond (yay! they won!) so at least I didn't have that distraction.
4. Our 18th anniversary was Monday. See item #3 and you'll understand how our day went. The kids were off from school so he schlepped the boys around to get haircuts, mowed the lawn and brought home pizza for dinner. It sucked. But at the end of the day, this funny, kind and smart guy is still around and we love each other very much. We may not always be able to show each other given the craziness of our life, but I know he will always be there.
5. Tuesday brought parent teacher conferences for the little (or not so little) kids. All four got great report cards for them. M is holding her own somehow and the consistent message I got from her teachers is that she is trying and engaged in the classroom. She tests terribly, but our hope for her to get an education and the grades in the end don't really matter. The tough conference for some reason was little L's. He's doing great in school, but she commented that he seems tired and gets weepy sometimes when things seem hard. She also said we need to read with him more at home. So first my mommy guilt went into overdrive because I don't read to and with him as much as I should. Then I looked at her and explained that he doesn't always get the best sleep. He's in our bed most nights around three. On Sunday night he couldn't get to sleep because he doesn't want to go to heaven. She looked at me blankly. I thought most teachers at the small school we go to knew our whole story. I tried to explain that he still has a lot of anxiety and that the changes in our house still make it hard for him. "Oh, the girls live with you all the time? I thought you shared them or something." Good lord. She quickly said something about him telling the whole class about the balloons and we moved on. It reminded me that while we still live with tragedy everyday, other people just see us as a normal family. This is strangely good and bad.
6. A little girl in our neighborhood was just diagnosed with a brain tumor. I'm friends with her mom and it is rocking out little neighborhood. Surgery was this morning and it went well. We're waiting to hear the results. So sad. So very very sad.
So instead of working for my annoying client I'm sitting her writing a blog post. I wish I had some profound insight into the above list. A nugget of wisdom like those pictures one sees tagged on facebook or pinterest. I got nothing.
Tuesday, October 1, 2013
Stats, Furloughs, and the Month of October
I'm pretty active on Facebook. I post funny things about the kids, pictures from vacations and, of course, all of A's videos on herpetology and skateboarding. I especially like how this forum has allowed me to keep in touch with, and often reacquaint myself with, childhood friends and teammates. I like Facebook.
I've mentioned it a few times around here about how the girls get significantly more attention in comparison to the boys. My parents are the worst in this area. I'm getting used to my parents first asking about the girls and then the boys get an inquiry almost as an afterthought or something they know they are "supposed" to do. C and S think I'm exaggerating about this, but they too cross this line and, frankly, have absolutely no idea what it's like for our family. I think at this point the boys blow it off and shrug their shoulders, simply accepting that grandma and grandpa go to all of M's games and E gets special dinners. I can't tell you how many times a day I get the dreaded question, "How ARE the girls?" It gets so old. It still hurts my feelings.
On Facebook, however, the stats are right there. If I post anything about the girls (which I do just as much as the boys), I get quadruple the amount of likes. People who don't even know the girls add comments and light up that blue thumbs up. I don't know why it bothers me. Am I secretly still harboring sibling rivalry with my dead sister? Is my frustration colored by the experiences with my family? Am I jealous for the boys? Why do I have a problem with the attention the girls get? Their story is undoubtedly sad and tragic. I think maybe some of these feelings stem from my need to get people to understand that yes, the girls lost their parents, but they have a family and we're taking care of them. I don't want them or us as a family to continue to be defined by tragedy. We have five kids and work hard everyday to treat them the same even when everyone outside of this house doesn't.
Or maybe this is all in my head. As Chris Rock once said, though, "You can't argue math. Everything else is debatable." In this case, the stats don't lie.
*********************************************
If I see one more post or comment from people about "essential" federal employees, blah, blah, blah, I'm going to scream. These are real people with real families and mortgages, bills and expenses. My husband works really hard and is very good at what he does. He hasn't had a raise in years. He works in the public sector because he wants his job to have a purpose. He is now sitting up in bed reading sports news on his nook. One day not getting paid, probably no big deal. Weeks not getting paid...we could have issues.
Congress passed a law. The Supreme Court upheld it. An idiot group within Congress is attempting to thwart our legislative process and is willing to have the government shutdown. Obamacare has NOTHING to do with the budget (it's an insidious law that actually makes sure EVERYONE in the country has access to health insurance...egads!). In my day, we called this being poor sports. It makes me absolutely sick. In the meantime, I'm going to continue to work my butt off just in case I have to be the sole breadwinner in the house.
*********************************************
I hate the month of October. The accident was in October. This month last year K almost died. C and I were talking yesterday that we question everything we do during the month of October thinking that it's colored by our feelings at this time. This will be four years since the accident. It still feels like it was yesterday. It still feels that in 23 days we'll have to relive it all over again.
I've mentioned it a few times around here about how the girls get significantly more attention in comparison to the boys. My parents are the worst in this area. I'm getting used to my parents first asking about the girls and then the boys get an inquiry almost as an afterthought or something they know they are "supposed" to do. C and S think I'm exaggerating about this, but they too cross this line and, frankly, have absolutely no idea what it's like for our family. I think at this point the boys blow it off and shrug their shoulders, simply accepting that grandma and grandpa go to all of M's games and E gets special dinners. I can't tell you how many times a day I get the dreaded question, "How ARE the girls?" It gets so old. It still hurts my feelings.
On Facebook, however, the stats are right there. If I post anything about the girls (which I do just as much as the boys), I get quadruple the amount of likes. People who don't even know the girls add comments and light up that blue thumbs up. I don't know why it bothers me. Am I secretly still harboring sibling rivalry with my dead sister? Is my frustration colored by the experiences with my family? Am I jealous for the boys? Why do I have a problem with the attention the girls get? Their story is undoubtedly sad and tragic. I think maybe some of these feelings stem from my need to get people to understand that yes, the girls lost their parents, but they have a family and we're taking care of them. I don't want them or us as a family to continue to be defined by tragedy. We have five kids and work hard everyday to treat them the same even when everyone outside of this house doesn't.
Or maybe this is all in my head. As Chris Rock once said, though, "You can't argue math. Everything else is debatable." In this case, the stats don't lie.
*********************************************
If I see one more post or comment from people about "essential" federal employees, blah, blah, blah, I'm going to scream. These are real people with real families and mortgages, bills and expenses. My husband works really hard and is very good at what he does. He hasn't had a raise in years. He works in the public sector because he wants his job to have a purpose. He is now sitting up in bed reading sports news on his nook. One day not getting paid, probably no big deal. Weeks not getting paid...we could have issues.
Congress passed a law. The Supreme Court upheld it. An idiot group within Congress is attempting to thwart our legislative process and is willing to have the government shutdown. Obamacare has NOTHING to do with the budget (it's an insidious law that actually makes sure EVERYONE in the country has access to health insurance...egads!). In my day, we called this being poor sports. It makes me absolutely sick. In the meantime, I'm going to continue to work my butt off just in case I have to be the sole breadwinner in the house.
*********************************************
I hate the month of October. The accident was in October. This month last year K almost died. C and I were talking yesterday that we question everything we do during the month of October thinking that it's colored by our feelings at this time. This will be four years since the accident. It still feels like it was yesterday. It still feels that in 23 days we'll have to relive it all over again.
Monday, June 24, 2013
Wound
I am wound so tight tonight. I can feel the tension from the top of my head through my jaws and into the pit of my stomach. I'm not really sure why I'm so out of sorts.
On Friday, just minutes before he was to compete in his only skateboarding contest of the year, A landed wrong on one of his signature tricks and sprained his ankle. He was devastated and seeing him so upset brought tears to my own eyes. He works so hard at his skating and once we decided he couldn't compete, watching boys skate who aren't even close to him in skill made it even worse. We took his sock off when we got home to ice it and immediately decided a trip to the ER was in order as his ankle was the size of a grapefruit. 3.5 hours later we left with crutches and a cast with instructions to visit the orthopedist in a few days. Typical A, he was all doom and gloom at first since we leave for the beach in a week and stay next to a skate park. By today, he was researching herping spots at the beach and thinking about other fun stuff to do. We see the ortho in the morning, so I'm hopeful the cast will come off and he'll only have to wear a brace.
CA, KM and the little girls were at the skatefest. I invited them to come to support A and spend some time together in a neutral place. It was strange and awful all wrapped into one. KT told me aunt C was CA's favorite sister and asked was I a sister? Then CA told A some ridiculous lie about being once being sponsored by a skateboard company. The cherry on top was CA screeching at MG at one point that was awkward and cringe worthy. Sigh. I don't have the words.
I also got to play soccer this weekend in a local tournament. It was so much fun. I was out of the house both days for several hours and although kids didn't get fed and a certain 17 year old was mad at me for (God forbid) making her go to the used book sale by herself, it was totally worth it. My dad even came to my afternoon game on Saturday and the final on Sunday. I was seriously rusty and out of shape, but had so much fun. In between games, there were great talks and laughs and doing something I know I do well, with people I like was awesome. I can barely move today and my feet are killing me because I haven't worn cleats in months. The pain, though, is a gentle reminder of the old Peg. Somehow I need to find her more often.
The girls have been an absolute handful all weekend. When E is hurting she lashes out on all of us, even little L. When M is hurting, she gets manic and difficult and just plain weird. It's often hard to know what is going on with them. Not enough attention? Too much attention on A or one of the other boys? Who knows? It's like getting slowly beaten to death by marshmallows every day. The little annoyances aren't that bad individually, but together they are crushing me. Crushing us.
The new project at work is also going to be pretty stressful. Interesting, and maybe even a little fun, but tons of work which makes me really nervous about how I'm going to make everything click at home and in the office.
I don't know where I'm going with this post. Maybe I thought typing the words on the screen would take away the pressure. I think it's coming off more like a bit of a pity party. Is it possible to love your life and want to change it all at the same time?
On Friday, just minutes before he was to compete in his only skateboarding contest of the year, A landed wrong on one of his signature tricks and sprained his ankle. He was devastated and seeing him so upset brought tears to my own eyes. He works so hard at his skating and once we decided he couldn't compete, watching boys skate who aren't even close to him in skill made it even worse. We took his sock off when we got home to ice it and immediately decided a trip to the ER was in order as his ankle was the size of a grapefruit. 3.5 hours later we left with crutches and a cast with instructions to visit the orthopedist in a few days. Typical A, he was all doom and gloom at first since we leave for the beach in a week and stay next to a skate park. By today, he was researching herping spots at the beach and thinking about other fun stuff to do. We see the ortho in the morning, so I'm hopeful the cast will come off and he'll only have to wear a brace.
CA, KM and the little girls were at the skatefest. I invited them to come to support A and spend some time together in a neutral place. It was strange and awful all wrapped into one. KT told me aunt C was CA's favorite sister and asked was I a sister? Then CA told A some ridiculous lie about being once being sponsored by a skateboard company. The cherry on top was CA screeching at MG at one point that was awkward and cringe worthy. Sigh. I don't have the words.
I also got to play soccer this weekend in a local tournament. It was so much fun. I was out of the house both days for several hours and although kids didn't get fed and a certain 17 year old was mad at me for (God forbid) making her go to the used book sale by herself, it was totally worth it. My dad even came to my afternoon game on Saturday and the final on Sunday. I was seriously rusty and out of shape, but had so much fun. In between games, there were great talks and laughs and doing something I know I do well, with people I like was awesome. I can barely move today and my feet are killing me because I haven't worn cleats in months. The pain, though, is a gentle reminder of the old Peg. Somehow I need to find her more often.
The girls have been an absolute handful all weekend. When E is hurting she lashes out on all of us, even little L. When M is hurting, she gets manic and difficult and just plain weird. It's often hard to know what is going on with them. Not enough attention? Too much attention on A or one of the other boys? Who knows? It's like getting slowly beaten to death by marshmallows every day. The little annoyances aren't that bad individually, but together they are crushing me. Crushing us.
The new project at work is also going to be pretty stressful. Interesting, and maybe even a little fun, but tons of work which makes me really nervous about how I'm going to make everything click at home and in the office.
I don't know where I'm going with this post. Maybe I thought typing the words on the screen would take away the pressure. I think it's coming off more like a bit of a pity party. Is it possible to love your life and want to change it all at the same time?
Thursday, June 13, 2013
Little Black Dress
I've got a thing with clothes. I'm not in any way a fashionista, but I gain comfort and confidence from certain outfits or items.
My day-to-day mom outfit usually consists of sweats or shorts and a variety of nike or addidas, dryfit, short sleeve or long sleeve tees. Despite my rare ability to exercise or play soccer, my inner athlete is reflected in my wardrobe. That, and the fact that my husband pretty much gets me the same thing every holiday.
Today I had a meeting with a new client for a kick-off meeting for my new project. 13 years of Catholic school and daily uniforms has resulted in my need to put on my professional clothes if I'm going to an important work related event. I haven't really had to interact with a client in the past few years, so I was a bit out of sorts late last night trying to figure out what I was going to wear. The pickings were certainly limited by what was clean and what needed ironing. I found a suit jacket that I've always liked, but the accompanying pants were wrinkled and I was too tired to make the effort.
A little black dress hangs in the back of my closet. It's a simple, Ann Taylor number with cap sleeves. It's hung there on its hanger for over three and a half years. It often catches my eye and propels me back to that first and last time I wore that dress. Jeanne and Mike's funeral. For some reason I've never been able to wear it again, despite multiple opportunities. It's always seemed like an untouchable object or a portkey from Harry Potter that would magically transport me back to that day.
I made a quick decision last night in my exhaustion that this dress would be perfect with the suit jacket. Clean lines and professional, it would be perfect. With slight hesitation, I pulled off my tee shirt and pulled the dress over my head. It still fit even though I've lost a lot of weight in the last few years. I put on that jacket and, as suspected, the combo worked great.
When we were little, my favorite game to play with my sisters was what we called "big business." Jeanne would set up a desk in the basement and from what I remember the game centered around taking notes, answering pretend phones and filling out "business" forms that we created. As adults, my sisters and I have joked when one of us was in our "big business" mode.
I decided that rather than look at that dress and think that it was going to sink me in my grief for my sister, this little black dress was going to carry her with me today. I don't know why today was the day. Maybe it was because I was just too tired and being practical outweighed the feelings associated with the dress. Maybe the rawness of my grief is softening. Maybe I just needed my big sister today and that dress was the closest thing I could get.
Whatever the reason, I'm glad I wore it. It gave me comfort and confidence in the stress of the day. I think I'll wear it again.
My day-to-day mom outfit usually consists of sweats or shorts and a variety of nike or addidas, dryfit, short sleeve or long sleeve tees. Despite my rare ability to exercise or play soccer, my inner athlete is reflected in my wardrobe. That, and the fact that my husband pretty much gets me the same thing every holiday.
Today I had a meeting with a new client for a kick-off meeting for my new project. 13 years of Catholic school and daily uniforms has resulted in my need to put on my professional clothes if I'm going to an important work related event. I haven't really had to interact with a client in the past few years, so I was a bit out of sorts late last night trying to figure out what I was going to wear. The pickings were certainly limited by what was clean and what needed ironing. I found a suit jacket that I've always liked, but the accompanying pants were wrinkled and I was too tired to make the effort.
A little black dress hangs in the back of my closet. It's a simple, Ann Taylor number with cap sleeves. It's hung there on its hanger for over three and a half years. It often catches my eye and propels me back to that first and last time I wore that dress. Jeanne and Mike's funeral. For some reason I've never been able to wear it again, despite multiple opportunities. It's always seemed like an untouchable object or a portkey from Harry Potter that would magically transport me back to that day.
I made a quick decision last night in my exhaustion that this dress would be perfect with the suit jacket. Clean lines and professional, it would be perfect. With slight hesitation, I pulled off my tee shirt and pulled the dress over my head. It still fit even though I've lost a lot of weight in the last few years. I put on that jacket and, as suspected, the combo worked great.
When we were little, my favorite game to play with my sisters was what we called "big business." Jeanne would set up a desk in the basement and from what I remember the game centered around taking notes, answering pretend phones and filling out "business" forms that we created. As adults, my sisters and I have joked when one of us was in our "big business" mode.
I decided that rather than look at that dress and think that it was going to sink me in my grief for my sister, this little black dress was going to carry her with me today. I don't know why today was the day. Maybe it was because I was just too tired and being practical outweighed the feelings associated with the dress. Maybe the rawness of my grief is softening. Maybe I just needed my big sister today and that dress was the closest thing I could get.
Whatever the reason, I'm glad I wore it. It gave me comfort and confidence in the stress of the day. I think I'll wear it again.
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
Enough
To win just once would be enough
For those who've lost in life and love
For those who've lost their guile and nerve
Their innocence, their drive and verve
For those who feel they've been mistreated
Discriminated, robbed or cheated
To claim one victory inspired
To win just once is their desire
To win just once against the odds
And once be smiled on by the Gods
To race with speed along the track
Break the tape and not look back
To never have considered losing
As if to win is by your choosing
Bare you soul for all to find
An honest heart and an open mind
--To Win Just Once, The Saw Doctors
Today is starting out to be one in which I just want to yell at...God? the universe? everyone within listening distance?...that I have had enough. Enough already!
I woke up with a pit in my stomach wanting to hide under the covers and try to will the day not to start. We just have too much going on today and it's an in office day today for me so I have to smile and be professional and listen to 20-somethings complain about their terrible day because they ran out of their favorite coffee flavor in the kitchen. I have to work on a project that I think is taking the wrong direction and makes no sense, but have to keep my mouth shut and just be a team player because I need the hours and ultimately need this job.
On the way to school, I had to field the same question I've answered now 5 times to the resource teacher about standardized testing this week with M. In M's student assistance plan we have accommodations in place for extra time in certain tests. She also takes some tests in the resource classroom to avoid distractions. M has a learning disability in math, ADHD and anxiety disorder. All three of these contribute to her academic performance. These tests mean nothing for M, but obviously are important for the school. She does not want extra time and says it just stresses her out more. For some reason nobody at school likes that answer and continuously is questioning ME the person who lives with her everyday and sees how her three challenges play out. More time for her means more time to let her mind wander and lose focus. More time means missing her regular academic classes which in turn adds to her anxiety. It's just not worth it. Enough!!
K seems to have caught the flu/upper respiratory thing L had. He has been coughing for 3 weeks now. According to my research, it takes longer to recover from these types of things when you've had lung damage and pulmonary embolisms. I still think he needs to go into the doctor. He sounds terrible. I'm worried. He's in denial. Enough!!
We still have no idea when my grandfather's funeral is going to be. Why you might ask? Because my cousins in New York who have done nothing to take care of him in the last 5 years are trying to find a "convenient" time to schedule it. Really? My dad is paralyzed in this. I tried to talk to him on Monday about moving forward for the kids' sake and was told to butt out and be more patient. So I can sit vigil all night by myself and watch and listen to him die, then hold him in my arms (again by myself) as he dies, but am not allowed to inquire about when we might actually have a funeral? The kids are really anxious about the whole thing. I just want to grieve and have a funeral and show the kids a normal process. Oh, and my dad asked me to host the luncheon after the funeral at our house. Enough!!
I know I complain about this all the time, but our house is a mess and I just can't get a handle on it. I don't have the time and when I do I want to spend it being with the kids or just chill because I'm exhausted. Some days I fantasize that Nate Berkus or that British guy on the Rachel Ray show will just show up at my house and organize it from top to bottom. Laundry is never ending. Feeding the masses is never ending. Cleaning up after the minions (my new name for them) and keeping track of all the uniforms, socks, etc. is never ending. Enough!!
It all comes down to the fact that while I've had enough of all the stress and work, I continue to feel not enough. I love the comments I get here and from close friends encouraging me and telling me I'm doing the best I can, but at the end of the day someone has to get everything done and that's me. Even the word "enough" connotes the idea of just getting the bare minimum done. I'm tired of settling for the lowest standard. That's not me.
Today, I'm exhausted. I'm lonely. I'm overwhelmed. I'm sad and angry. I'm all those things and simply tired of feeling not enough.
For those who've lost in life and love
For those who've lost their guile and nerve
Their innocence, their drive and verve
For those who feel they've been mistreated
Discriminated, robbed or cheated
To claim one victory inspired
To win just once is their desire
To win just once against the odds
And once be smiled on by the Gods
To race with speed along the track
Break the tape and not look back
To never have considered losing
As if to win is by your choosing
Bare you soul for all to find
An honest heart and an open mind
--To Win Just Once, The Saw Doctors
Today is starting out to be one in which I just want to yell at...God? the universe? everyone within listening distance?...that I have had enough. Enough already!
I woke up with a pit in my stomach wanting to hide under the covers and try to will the day not to start. We just have too much going on today and it's an in office day today for me so I have to smile and be professional and listen to 20-somethings complain about their terrible day because they ran out of their favorite coffee flavor in the kitchen. I have to work on a project that I think is taking the wrong direction and makes no sense, but have to keep my mouth shut and just be a team player because I need the hours and ultimately need this job.
On the way to school, I had to field the same question I've answered now 5 times to the resource teacher about standardized testing this week with M. In M's student assistance plan we have accommodations in place for extra time in certain tests. She also takes some tests in the resource classroom to avoid distractions. M has a learning disability in math, ADHD and anxiety disorder. All three of these contribute to her academic performance. These tests mean nothing for M, but obviously are important for the school. She does not want extra time and says it just stresses her out more. For some reason nobody at school likes that answer and continuously is questioning ME the person who lives with her everyday and sees how her three challenges play out. More time for her means more time to let her mind wander and lose focus. More time means missing her regular academic classes which in turn adds to her anxiety. It's just not worth it. Enough!!
K seems to have caught the flu/upper respiratory thing L had. He has been coughing for 3 weeks now. According to my research, it takes longer to recover from these types of things when you've had lung damage and pulmonary embolisms. I still think he needs to go into the doctor. He sounds terrible. I'm worried. He's in denial. Enough!!
We still have no idea when my grandfather's funeral is going to be. Why you might ask? Because my cousins in New York who have done nothing to take care of him in the last 5 years are trying to find a "convenient" time to schedule it. Really? My dad is paralyzed in this. I tried to talk to him on Monday about moving forward for the kids' sake and was told to butt out and be more patient. So I can sit vigil all night by myself and watch and listen to him die, then hold him in my arms (again by myself) as he dies, but am not allowed to inquire about when we might actually have a funeral? The kids are really anxious about the whole thing. I just want to grieve and have a funeral and show the kids a normal process. Oh, and my dad asked me to host the luncheon after the funeral at our house. Enough!!
I know I complain about this all the time, but our house is a mess and I just can't get a handle on it. I don't have the time and when I do I want to spend it being with the kids or just chill because I'm exhausted. Some days I fantasize that Nate Berkus or that British guy on the Rachel Ray show will just show up at my house and organize it from top to bottom. Laundry is never ending. Feeding the masses is never ending. Cleaning up after the minions (my new name for them) and keeping track of all the uniforms, socks, etc. is never ending. Enough!!
It all comes down to the fact that while I've had enough of all the stress and work, I continue to feel not enough. I love the comments I get here and from close friends encouraging me and telling me I'm doing the best I can, but at the end of the day someone has to get everything done and that's me. Even the word "enough" connotes the idea of just getting the bare minimum done. I'm tired of settling for the lowest standard. That's not me.
Today, I'm exhausted. I'm lonely. I'm overwhelmed. I'm sad and angry. I'm all those things and simply tired of feeling not enough.
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