Aging Is The Mother Of All Eff You's

This past April I did something truly heinous and scary.  I turned 40.

I have been dreading my fortieth birthday for most of my life.

Seriously.

When I turned 20, I knew that I was technically an adult.  Technically.  I mean, I was a mother and was married and living my own life, wherein I paid bills and did laundry and the state of Colorado proclaimed I was indeed an adult.  Yet, I still sort of felt like I was simply playing house.  I thought, no, I'll give it a few more years, then I'll feel like an adult.

I turned 30 (despite having denied that I was having birthdays, anymore) and found a grey hair.  Actually, I found several.  Almost to the day of my thirtieth birthday.  I was fucking devastated.  I savagely ripped those blights from my head.  And then I cried.  Somehow I went from feeling like a fake adult, to an old lady, over night. 

Somewhere in my 30's I started to realize that I was no longer in my 20's.  That was a little bit devastating for me.  Actually,  it was a lottle devastating for me.

No longer could I race down a ski slope like a bat out of hell (without a helmet!) like I did when I was in my teens.  No longer could I drink like I was in my 20's. No longer could I stay up all night.  No longer could I run a mile in under ten minutes.  No longer could I go hard like I did when I was younger.  Recovery was slower and far more painful.

So, as you can imagine, I was fucking terrified to turn 40.

My 40's are making it clear that, physically, I wish I was still in my 30's.

Drinking is something to be done under the supervision of a doctor and a fully staffed support system.  As one of my friends recently put it, "having a hangover at 40 is like recovering from surgery."  True dat, my friend, true dat.

Taking a hike requires a small recovery period of three weeks and a handful of Tramadol and Percocet and a couple of muscle relaxers for good measure.

A ten minute mile?  Ha!

Ha ha ha ha!!!!

Skiing???  Are you fucking crazy?!?!?!  Dude, I managed to fracture my foot (a bone my orthopedic surgeon assured me is capable of withstanding an insane amount of pressure...meaning I'd done a really superb job in managing to fracture that puppy) by doing nothing but walking.

Skating also goes on that list of not fucking happening.

HOWEVER!

As I got closer and closer to turning 40, I started thinking a lot about just why I was dreading it.  Physically I hadn't changed all that much since my 30's.  I was less likely to take risks with my person, but I think that's maybe a sign of maturity of another kind.

I found what was truly behind my fears wasn't that I didn't want to look/be old.  No, I actually don't mind the number.  I'm damned lucky to have made it this far in life.  Childbirth was something that nearly killed me.  Stupidity in my teen years nearly killed me.  Stupidity in my 20's and 30's nearly killed me.  I'm happy to be "getting up there," actually.

What had me terrified of 40, is what it means in relation to the time I have left.  I'm no where near ready to leave this life.  I have stuff I still want to do, see, experience, teach, learn.  I want to see my daughter graduate from med school.  I want to see my grand kids graduate and get married.  I want to see the whole world.  I want to climb a glacier and explore volcanoes and run with the bulls!

My first 40 years were devoted to growing and learning and raising kids.  I've been dreading getting old and what I should have been doing is embracing it and looking forward to it all!  I have a bucket list that's nearly a mile long.  I have many things to do and a long way to go, and I'm ready to get started.

My body is trying to betray me and keep me grounded, but I'm stubborn.  I don't feel like I'm getting old.  I still play in puddles and dance in the rain.  I still play games and act silly.  I still read children's books and fall in love with old stories each time I read them.  I still laugh at farts and burps.  I still watch Scooby-Doo and love it now just as much as I did when I was a kid.  More, probably.  I still like making out in a car.  Actually, does that ever get old????  I still like to line dance at the bar.  I still like to climb up dangerously high places.

I still have a lot of life left to live.  I think my 40's will be my best years, yet.  Aging is the mother of all eff you's.  But only if you let it.

The One Where I Address the Caitlyn Jenner Issue

I've been really trying to give this some serious thought before I put pen to paper, so to speak.  This issue is stuck in my craw, and I've been using this time to formulate my thoughts into cohesive, sense making sentences.  Hopefully I'll do this topic justice.

For those of you who are currently residing  under a rock and missed the hullabaloo, the shortened version...
So Bruce Jenner, former athletic powerhouse and reality "star", has recently gone public about his gender transformation.  He is now she, Bruce is now Caitlyn.  There has been some facial surgery and breast augmentation done.  There was a prominent photo shoot done by one Annie Leibovitz (lucky!!!) for Vanity Fair magazine, that seemed to really start all the hoopla.  Then there is the matter of the Arthur Ashe Courage Award.  People are upset by the fact that Caitlyn Jenner has won this award for courage.  They felt other "more deserving" athletes were picked over in favor of this "publicity seeking" reality star.

Here's my two cents on the matter...

In regards to the Bruce/Caitlyn topic on the whole:  who the fuck cares.

In regards to Bruce now wanting to be known as Caitlyn:  who the fuck cares.

In regards to it being a publicity stunt:  who the fuck cares.

In regards to the Arthur Ashe Courage Award:  I have a few thoughts on this matter.

First off allow me to define courage for everyone.  Courage:

the quality of mind or spirit that enables a person to face difficulty, danger, pain, etc., without fear; bravery.

Does Caitlyn Jenner exude courage???  In short, yes.  Here is a person who has largely been known as a male athlete.  In my time we've come a long way towards acceptance.  But we have a VERY long way to go, still.  That which makes us different is still less accepted than the socially approved norms (though just who exactly dictates what normal is, I don't know).  Being in the public eye and being different can't be much fun.  So, here's Bruce Jenner, and he knows he's not a he.  Your options are continue being he and be miserable but accepted.  Be Caitlyn at home, when nobody is looking, and likely be miserable, still.  Or publicly be Caitlyn, who you believe yourself to truly be, and open yourself up to ridicule and scrutiny and hate.  And likely be miserable.  But, at least you get to be yourself.  Me, I'd probably hide who I am for fear of rejection.  I don't feel I'd be courageous enough to publicly renounce the man I was born as, and embrace the woman I want/know myself to be.  No matter what your opinion on the person/the act, you have to agree that it was in fact an act of courage. 

I've been deeply saddened by the backlash from this story.  Caitlyn's story, transition, and winning the Arthur Ashe award doesn't take anything away from anyone else.   You and I are still who we were before this all started.  Veteran Noah Galloway is still a remarkable human being, even though he didn't receive the award.  I'm sure he'll still get up and go for a run today, anyway.  I'm sure he'll still keep rocking in the athletic world, despite not having the title of Arthur Ashe Courage Award recipient.  The world just keeps on going, like that.  I'm sure Noah Galloway would be the first one to tell you not to feel sorry for him, as he seems to not need your pity.  I'm fairly certain he's still courageous without the award.  

If it makes you feel any better at all, they didn't ask me who I felt should receive the award, either.  

Personally, I feel anyone who gets up off their ass and does something to better themselves should get an award for courage.  My heaviest weight is 290.  I've managed to knock off about 50 pounds.  So far.  It's not easy.  I constantly have to struggle to move more.  I've hauled my fat ass up the Manitou Springs Incline.  Twice.  Tell me that didn't take some courage!  We need to take the time to recognize that all of us are capable of courageous acts, they just come in different forms of courage.

I am constantly reminding my kids that they can't change the world, they can only change themselves.  I'm beginning to feel like I'm doing them a great disservice in telling them this.  Normally I like to tell them this little nugget of wisdom when I want them to stop trying to control what another sibling has done/is doing.  My point to them is that they need to stop worrying about what others are doing, because we can't change others.  We have no control over what another person does, says, thinks.  The only one we can exert that kind of control over, is ourselves.
  

But, here is Caitlyn Jenner.  She might not be out to change the world, but she is.  She's helping pave the way for others, intentionally or not.

What truly saddens me about the world we currently live in, is that it costs nothing to be accepting of others.  Your religion tells you that being gay is "wrong"???  That's awesome, I'm glad you found a religion that allows you to follow your beliefs and makes you happy.  Doesn't your religion teach you about acceptance???  That whole "love they neighbor" thing kind of applies here.  You don't have to be gay to accept another as being gay.  It's not contagious, you won't catch the gay by being accepting.  Your personal beliefs don't allow for tattoos???  Hey, I'm not even mad at that.  My response: don't get one.  Me, I love my tattoos and plan to get more.  Your upbringing keeps you from partaking in alcohol or smoking weed???  Great, it's not for everyone.  I don't drink, either, but mostly because I'm allergic to my beloved beer.  But, I won't hold it against you if you choose to partake.
  

To each his own.

Why can't we live in a world where we just accept each other, as is?????  I don't mind being a woman, so I think I'll stay one.  I love my gay daughter, don't mind if she continues to be gay.  I love my friends who drink and smoke, don't much mind if they continue living their lives as they see fit.  

We are ALL different.  Instead of picking on those who are more different than most, why the fuck not just embrace what is and love them, anyway?  Who cares if Bruce is more comfortable as Caitlyn?  

Live, and let live.  Period. 

Just Some Thoughts and Stuff

I've been quite lax in my blogging of late.  To put it mildly, life has been kicking my ass.  I'm not normally one to just throw my arms up and quit.  I'm a fighter.  I'm also stubborn.  But, lately, I've definitely been wanting to give up and let someone else take over.  *Insert corny Jesus take the Wheel reference*  I'd be quite content with reverting and living my second childhood.  Coloring and naps sound effing awesome!  Someone else can play house, pay the bills, do all the mommy stuff, and worry about all the stuff that needs to be worried about.  I'm not so sure I want to do it, anymore.

Some days I don't feel remotely in charge of my life.  Seriously.  No matter how hard I try, no matter how much I work something, fight tooth and nail for something, it usually doesn't go my way.  Now, I'm one of those nuts that likes to find something good in everything.  If you're going to have something shitty happen to you, wouldn't you rather there be some kind of silver lining that makes it kind of a little less shitty????  Like, when I come out of the store and find my tire flat.  After shouting a few choice expletives and finding a too kind gentleman to help me change it, I could get all pissy and say woe is me.  Actually, that pretty much sounds exactly like what I'd do.  BUT!  After I do all that, I'd sit back and reflect until I can find one good thing about the situation.  Like, it sucks that I had a flat and got to splurge for a new tire that I didn't really have the money for, but at least it didn't blow out while I was speeding down the interstate and kill me instantly.  See what I did there?  Much better, right????

Normally I'm all over the silver lining.  However, there are just some instances in life for which a silver lining just doesn't exist.  I like a good paradox as much as the next guy, but this is fast getting old.  Life has been kicking my ass and even I can't find just cause for it or even some stupid, shitty silver lining.

So, what now????

How do you get through the terrible parts of life and not completely lose your shit or go off the deep end???  Are there some things for which you can't deal with gracefully and therefore it's perfectly acceptable to ugly cry and scream about how unfair life is and break basketball trophies (if you get that reference then I love you and you're awesome), while eating ice cream by the gallon???  How do you get through life's truly ugly and unbearable moments???

Say whaaaaaaa..........

I think William Shakespeare may have said it best, "listen to many, speak to few."

Most days I try to embody this, and just keep my mouth shut.  Yeah, I know what you're thinking, so shut it.  I can, actually, keep my thoughts to myself.  I do it all the time.  I do it a lot.  I do it frequently.  I do it occasionally.  I do actually try to do it.

I'm not perfect, as I'm sure we're all already aware.  But, I do try.

Have you ever wished you could have just one solid day where you could say all the things you really wanted to say, without consequence???  I do, and I've given it a little thought.  I've mulled things over and the following is a compellation of some of the things I'd say if a genie were to grant me the aforementioned wish.

*please don't judge me...*

*also, please be warned, there is a fair amount of swearing*

*please don't judge me for being a potty mouth*

1. What I actually said: "No, that doesn't look bad!"
   
   What I should have said: "If you are going to wear that when we go out, I'm going to need to drink vast amounts of alcohol because that thing is making my soul burn.  So, I either need to be drunk to dull the pain, or we need to kill that thing with fire."
2. What I actually said:  "No, take your time and pay me back whenever you can!"
   
   What I should have said:  "No, it's really not ok that you haven't paid me back after ALL this time.  But, you clearly need that money way worse than I do.  Heck, I think there's still a video game you don't already own.  Please, see to buying that game before you get around to making me whole.  No rush, I obviously don't need it.  Neither does my landlord..."
3. What I actually said: "I'm only 39."
   
   What I should have said:  "Fuck you, I AM only 39.  This is what 39 looks like after four kids and two bad marriages.  I'm rocking it!"
4. What I actually said:  "Sorry, I have a few coupons..."
   
   What I should have said:  "Yes, I have coupons.  Oh, you don't like that?  Guess what, it doesn't matter if you like it.  You get paid the same amount whether you're scanning groceries or coupons.  Yes, I've worked retail, I totally understand that they're sometimes a pain.  But here's the thing, I am doing my best to be fiscally responsible with our food stamps and make them last longer.  Would you rather I was flippant with them, and just ran around spending them all at the corner store on Slim Jims and Cheetos Puffs???" 
5. What I actually said:  "You can have the last cookie."
   
   What I should have said:  "If you even attempt to touch that last cookie, I will rip your arm off and beat you about the head with your own arm.  Feeling lucky???  Then go for it."
6. What I actually said:  "No, what you said didn't hurt my feelings."
   
   What I should have said:  "Yes that hurt my fucking feelings you fucking asshole!  What the fuck did you fucking think was going to happen when fucking said that???  Geez, get a fucking clue!"
7. What I actually said:  "No, I'm not on my period!"
   
   What I should have said:  "Do you really think it's wise to poke the bear like that?  IF I'm on my period, would you really want to risk pissing me off by asking me that???  Seriously?"
8. What I actually said:  "Would you please just do what I asked???"
   
   What I should have said:  "Oh my ever loving God.  If you don't shut the eff up and do what I asked, I am going to completely lose my shit.  PLEASE just do it!!!"
9. What I actually said:  "I hate all skinny bitches."
   
   What I should have said:  "I hate being so damn fat."
10. What I actually said:  "No, I'm too sick to come into work. *cough cough*"
    
    What I should have said:  "Sorry boss, but today there is a bomb ass Twilight Zone marathon on t.v. and it only happens like 9 times a year.  So, I'm sure you can understand my not wanting to miss it!  Right?!"
11. What I actually said:  "Sure, I'd love to be your partner for this project!"
    
    What I should have said:  "Hell nah I don't want to be your partner for this project!  Dude!  You've missed 60% of the classes, you're always late, and I've never once seen you turn in a single assignment.  Why in the fuck would I want to be your partner???  But, since I was late for class today and all the other 'desirable' partners are already taken, I guess I'm stuck with you.  Huzzah."
12. What I actually said:  "Could  you please try and aim better???"
    
    What I should have said:  "Dude.  Do you have any idea how tired I am of wiping pee up off the floor after every time you use the bathroom?  Dude.  C'mon.  You can actually aim that thing and it's not like the toilet bowl is a small target.  STOP PEEING ON MY FLOOR!!!!"
13. What I actually said:  "I wish nothing but the best for you!"
    
    What I should have said:  "You're a horrible person.  I hope you catch the clap."
14. What I actually said:  "No offense taken."
    
    What I should have said:  "You're a dick.  Just because you said 'no offense' right before you say something offensive, doesn't make it any less offensive.  Still highly offensive.  Dick."
15. What I actually said:  "I don't care, you pick."
    
    What I should have said:  "Holy Christ.  When I say 'I don't care, you pick', what I really mean is, 'you should know me well enough by now to know exactly what I really want.  I don't really care what you want, I want you to pick what I want.'  I'm really testing you, and you just failed.  I can't know you anymore."
16. What I actually said:  "Yes, I've been married before."
    
    What I should have said:  "Ok, here's the thing...I got married for the first time when I was really young.  We were both really young.  And stupid.  Let's not forget stupid.  It didn't take us very long to figure out we did something stupid, and we rectified the situation.  Then, before the ink was completely dry on my first divorce, I was remarried.  It took my second husband and I a little bit longer to realize how stupid we were.  But, rest assured we figured it out and rectified the situation.  So, yes, I've been married, and divorced, twice."
17. What I actually said:  "No, it doesn't bother me that you're still technically married."
    
    What I should have said:  "Goodbye."
18. What I actually said:  "Yep, I have four kids."
    
    What I should have said:  "Yes, I am fully well aware of how that happens.  We did it *gasp* on purpose.  None of my kids were 'mistakes', they are my blessings.  And no, not that it's ANY of your business, but we're not having any more kids."
19. What I actually said:  "I do."
    
    What I should have said:  "Probably not."
20. What I actually said:  "It'll all be ok."
    
    What I should have said:  "Good Lord, I really hope it'll all be ok.  I mean, I don't fucking know how the future is going to turn out.  I mean, maybe you'll be ok, and maybe you won't.  How am I supposed to predict the level of okness???  What if it all falls apart and everything goes to shit, what then???  Am I then responsible for all the bad that's going to happen because I don't want to be responsible for all that!  Fuck that noise!  Look, I'm fairly certain everything will all be ok.  I mean, it should be.  I'll be here for you no matter what, if that's any kind of consolation to you.  You do have a back up plan, right???"

The flu is the mother of all eff you's

I hate being sick.  No, I REALLY hate being sick.  More than the average person.  Trust me.  I get all kinds of whiney and bitchy and I really like to spread that shit around.  The part that really stinks about me getting sick, is that I still have to pull mom duty.  Three out of four of my kidlets are also sick.  It started with my baby girl.  About two weeks ago we were told she had bronchitis, complicated by her asthma (asthma that hasn't been an issue in almost a decade!).  Fast forward a week and she's somehow managed to catch the flu, on top of the bronchitis complicated by her asthma.  The next one to get lucky was my other asthmatic, Stevie.  He is the only one to have received the flu shot this year, and it seems it just didn't work in stopping him from getting the flu.  Sad panda.  The next one to catch it was my Hopie.  My teenager who is missing finals week.  She's terribly torn up about it couldn't care less right now because she's all kinds of feverish and drippy.  The last in line to catch this crud is yours truly.  I have to care for three sickos when my head feels like someone has given a good twang to a tuning fork and then held it to my head. 

 

We are all kind of hating life right now. 

 

Some of us *cough the baby cough* got some really good drugs.  The rest of us got screwed.  We're all kind of eyeing the child's Tamiflu and vicoden cough syrup.  Stevie has even asked if I've learned how to calculate the efficacy of splitting one person's script for Tamiflu amongst two people.  I'm going to assume that my darling sweet child was wanting me to be the one to share the medication....Please rest assured that we are not sharing medications.  I would never, ever do that.  Especially since I haven't started nursing school yet, and my math for clinicals isn't until next semester.  :o)

We have our own personal pharmacy.

I never knew that a person could be soooo tired from doing so much nothing.  Seriously.  I woke up, moved camp to the sofa, checked on my kidlets, did the dishes, and was so spent that it was a good two hours before I could muster the strength to open my eyes again.  What the hell????  How does that even work???

 

I'm exhausted.  I don't think I've ever faced an in home pandemic like this before.  I've had several sickos at once before, but I can't think of a time when there's been this many, along with myself!  It's a bit overwhelming!!!  I've had to deal with quite a bit.  

 

In the last few days I've heard the following complaints/concerns/questions:

 

• My eyes hurt when they're open.
• My eyes hurt when they're closed.
• My pee smells weird.
• If I lick someone, will they get the Ebola?
• Do they make nose plugs?  I need a nose plug to keep my snot from dripping out.
• Why do I have to take that medicine?  It tastes like the inside of a toilet.
• Will I die if I spit the medicine out?
• Why did Rosie have to get us all sick?
• Do I really have to wear a mask? 
• Why can't everyone else wear a mask?
• My mask smells weird.
• Maybe if you brushed your teeth, the inside of your mask wouldn't smell.
• Mom, can you please tell him/her to shut up.
• Can you please tell *insert the name of offending child* to stop coughing?  My head hurts.
• Can you please tell *insert the name of offending child* that I can't help that I'm coughing so much.  It's not like I'm enjoying this.
• Mom, you snore so loud I can hear you in the living room.
• Mom, you snore louder than dad.
• Mom, can you please stop snoring so much?

I'm a bit frazzled, to say the least. 

 

Can't tell you how happy I am that no one is puking!!!

 

 

In my febrile state I've decided to make a list of things you simply must do if you are unfortunate enough to get sick with the flu.

 

 

1) Find Jesus.

Seriously.  There have been a few moments where I felt fairly certain I was about to meet my maker.  There have been a few times where I felt certain that if my children didn't stop fighting amongst themselves, and threatening to lick each other's pillows, that they were going to meet their makers.

 

2) Invest in some really nice facial tissues.

This is not the area you want to skimp on.  The Puffs Plus with lotion is my personal fave.  You do NOT want to have to blow your nose when it's raw and chaffed from the rough as bark generic brand of tissues!

 

3) Get Soap and Lysol.

I would think the reason behind these would be obvious.  Kill all the germs.  Get the door knobs, phones, remotes, computer mouse, your children...

 

4) Buy a really great bottle of cough syrup.

Now, I know there is some controversy surrounding cough syrup.  My grandfather (he was a doctor and usually was always right) said they were generally a waste of money, except for the expectorants.  But really, who the fuck wants to make the coughing worse?!?!  Me, I like mine with a level of alcohol that is higher than my vodka.  The only thing it really cures is my consciousness, but I'm ok with that.  My kids seem to really appreciate that, too...

 

5) Grab a fabulously soft, warm, comfy blanket.

Something light enough that you can fling it off you when your body suddenly decides to go from shivering cold to oven hot in 2.6 seconds.

 

6) Get a paper and pen.

This is mostly beneficial for those who are on medications, or have kidlets on meds, and need to keep track of when and what they're taking.  Don't trust your kids to keep track.  Their concept of time is ridonculous. 

 

7) Keep your sense of humor.

You're going to feel like death, but laughing is good medicine.  Even if you're only laughing at yourself.  

 

We're a hot mess.

 

 

8) Find something good to watch.

Self explanatory.  If you don't plan ahead for this kind of emergency scenario, you're going to be stuck watching infomercials and Jerry Springer type talk shows and reality courtroom shows.  Unless those shows are your cup of tea, in which case, forgo this step.  I promise not to judge you, I love Jersey Shore.

 

9) Get a  sick buddy.

Who wants to be sick alone???  Find someone you can tolerate and wouldn't mind being quarantined with, and lick their toothbrush. 

 

10) Download Candy Crush or Flappy Bird or Hulu or something to your phone.

You're going to be spending lots of time in bed and it gets boring staring at your ceiling for hours on end.

 

11) Find someone who is willing to come over and help.

Seriously.  Because my children feel the need to use a new cup EVERY SINGLE TIME they get a drink.  And because my children have used ALL of my forks and spoons, for the last three days in a row.  I've done more dishes in the last three days than I have all year.  They're nucking futs with this shit!  I'm exhausted and just don't have the energy to do another dish.  Or clean the up all the used tissues off my floor.  I need some help!

12) Lastly, get some sleep.

Not like I've had much choice in the matter....

 

I hope none of you have to deal with the flu this season, this shit is horrible!!!!



My Letter to a Child Psychiatrist

So, I have a few kids.  Four to be exact.  In three short months I will be the mother of three teenagers.  Three.  Let me break this down for you...that's about a 30% increase in teenagers; three times more teenagers than mom; a greater amount of teenagers than I've ever had.


I may be freaking the fuck out.


I'm already feeling a bit overwhelmed with just two.  In fact, I've been so overwhelmed recently, I decided to write a letter to a child psychiatrist I found online:


Dear head doctor of psychiatry,  *I really was trying to be punny here got lucky with that one


I am searching for some help for my kiddos.  I have four, aged 11 to 19.  They are my pride and joy, the lights of my life, my motivation for getting up in the morning, my everything.  I love them with every fiber of my being.  They are truly amazing individuals.


And they are all attitudey, ornery, self involved little assholes. 


I have one child who wants to be a doctor.  Not just any doctor, but an orthopedic surgeon.  How effing awesome is that?!  She wants to go to med school.  She wants to spend about a billion years (and dollars) going to school. 


I'm impressed.  I thought I wanted to be a lawyer when I was growing up.  The fact that lawyers go to school almost as long as doctors kept me from actually doing it.  That and having actually tried to read a law book.  Granted I was like 11, but still.  Talk about wordy.

Anyway, she has plans.  However, I can't seem to get this asshole to go to class.  Lately she'd prefer to be eating pizza or wandering aimlessly.  Then, she has the nerve to act confused as to why I'm furious with her when she gets caught.  Do you have any idea how inadequate a parent feels when their kid is such an obvious asshole?  I HATE being called into the school.  Why does it always have to be my kid that gets in trouble?  There are something like a thousand kids at this school, so why is it always my kid?


How am I supposed to get her to med school when I can't even get her through high school???


Now, I wasn't an angel as a kid.  My parents had to pick me up from the police station a time or two.  We don't really need to talk about the various holding cells I've been found in.  I was a problem child, for sure.  But, one time getting busted for something generally cured me of doing it again.  What's wrong with my child that she just keeps doing things she shouldn't?!?!


Then there's my child who is far too like Reese Witherspoon's character, Tracy Flick, from the movie Election.  She is so involved.  In everything.  Every.  Thing.  Honestly, I don't know how she can keep up with herself.  I certainly can't.  It's like some sort of weird OCD thing where she has to be in all the clubs, organizations, groups, activities, plays, musicals, battle of the books, off track betting, student council, and societies she can find.  It's exhausting.


Ok, so when I was younger, I too did musicals and plays and clubs and church trips and random extracurricular unsupervised field trips.  But, I'm an only child.  My parents could handle it all.  They lived for going to hear me sing jingle bells for the 974th time.


But there are four of them and one of me.  Why can't she understand that all her activities are wearing me out???  She's already got quite the resume for her college applications, and she's not even in middle school yet!  How do I get her to slow down some???


Oh, and then there's my oldest.  *sigh*  He's killing me.  He's so intelligent.  He finished high school with honors (after having a "problem child" episode or two...) and was taking classes that are harder than most of my college level classes.  That I struggle in.  He has talent.  So.  Much.  Talent.  He drums.  He's been doing it for close to 8 years now.  He's gifted, even if he doesn't think so.  He's also very impressionable.  He let someone close to him talk him out of going to school for a teaching degree in music.  It's what he wants to do.  It's his passion.  It's not a phase he's going through, it's not a passing fancy.  He's incredible and wants to share this passion with others.  I think it's wonderful.

So, how do I get him to see that he should follow his heart and do what he wants to do with his life???  Instead of going to school and learning how to teach, he's given up and dropped out of college.  It's like he's lost his will to play sometimes.  It makes my heart sad.  How do I get him to shut everyone else out and listen to what he wants???

Alright, I let someone convince me that being an English major wouldn't amount to much in the "real world".  I gave up on my passion.  I'm not saying I'm not happy with my choices, but it wasn't where I pictured myself ending up.  I wanted to do wordy things.  I guess I'm not too far off the mark with a major in ASL and a minor in communication...

Then there's my little man.  He's my rock star.  He's bipolar, just like his mom.  He's also an Aspie.  But, I know he's got big things in store for him.  He can soar to the moon and back, if he wants.  He's about the smartest kid I've ever met.  And he has personality for days.  He has a stunning smile and a kind heart and he's quite the catch.  The problem lies in that he doesn't see it.  He doesn't have much confidence.  It breaks my heart.

I grew up feeling very much the ugly duckling.  I was teased for my full lips and my full hips.  I wasn't fat, I was curvy.  Only curvy wasn't what all the other girls in my grade where.  They were all bean poles.  I wanted to be a bean pole.  I was a size 9 and thought I was fat.  No telling me to the contrary would abate my way of thinking.  And my "super model lips that every grown woman was envious of?"  Yeah, well those women didn't have to ride the bus with me and listen to a rendition of "Do your lips hang low?"  Confident was about the last thing I ever was.

So, how do I get him to see how stunning he is???  How do I get him to see past his hang ups and see what I see???

How do I get my kids to see the light???  My parents were so lucky, I never gave them any problems or reason for concern.

Please help.


This was his reply:

Good afternoon,

I am completely bewildered as to where your children might have picked these things up from.  Have you ever thought about seeking regular therapy?  I'm setting aside some time Mon, Wed, and Fridays, just for you.  I hope we can get to the bottom of all your children's problems. 

Sincerely,

Head Doctor of Psychiatry (by the way, that pun was so original...)

Are You There, God??? It's me, Kristin.

I occasionally constantly talk to myself.  Like, a lot.  I always joke that I only talk to myself when I need an expert's opinion.  But, there's truth in humor.  :o)  I guess maybe that sounds a bit narcissistic.  It is.  But, I'm not the only expert I'm speaking to...

For a good portion of the first half of my 39 years I was spoon fed the beliefs of others, and accepted it blindly.  I've banked on the existence of a higher power.  When I stop and think about it, really and truly give it thought, I have to admit that there are things that have happened that I can't explain away except by admitting the existence of a higher power.  Now whether that is the Christian God, fate, Allah, yin and yang, Ch'i,  Karma, or some other divine deity I can't say.

I believed in God, and I believed whole heartedly.  I was even *gasp* religious.  I know, hard to believe.  But, I was young and rebellious.  We'll call it "peer pressure."   

I can almost without a shred of doubt pinpoint the exact moment when I started to question the existence of God.  I was in a dark, dark place.  My entire life had come unhinged and changed forever.  Irrevocably.  At the time it felt like the entire world was conspiring against me.  Like some sort of synchronized choreographed dance of evil conspiracy.  And it was quite clear that Karma was a dumb bitch who obviously needed GPS (except when it comes to me...home girl seems to always know where I am).  I just couldn't believe that any God would so completely abandon me.

This train of thought was further fueled by a couple mythology classes that left me seriously wondering if God was nothing more than a myth. 

By the way, I'm recently of the opinion that I should, at all costs, avoid any and all philosophy classes.  I'm almost certain that I would never again be able to sleep.  Fuck, I can't shut down at night as it is!  Same goes for any class that involves human nutrition, but that's for another reason altogether.  Seriously, I won't even eat Cheetos Puffs anymore.  Or Fig Newtons.  Makes me rather sad.

I digress.

Now I'm stuck somewhere between believing in God, wanting to believe in God, believing in reincarnation (please reserve judgment, but I often wonder if Albert Brooks had it right in Defending Your Life.  Seriously, please reserve judgment.), and believing we're all a bunch of random bits and nothing means anything and God is indeed a myth.  A myth made up by humans in order to extend life beyond the end of our earthly existence, a way to immortalize ourselves. 

I'm trying to find my believe again.  It's there, I know it is. 

I keep talking to Him, hoping for some sort of "proof of life".  I keep searching for some sort of answer for this existence.  Something that makes it all make sense.  I wonder if my words are falling on deaf ears.  I wonder if it's a waste of time.  I wonder if I should be talking to Methuselah or Loki, instead. 

Mostly I just wonder.

Man, I truly and seriously hope this isn't one of those "you just can't know until you're dead" kind of deals.  That would seriously depress the shit out of me.  And really, if there's nothing beyond this, then there won't be any kind of epiphanous moment following my departure...

Jesus wept, someone please tell me this shit is "normal", and not some sort of existential "I'm about to turn 40" midlife crisis!  Please tell me I am not  the only one who has soooo many (likely irrelevant) thoughts!!!