Two Father's Days Instead

I had comments and replies with a good friend over my school fundraising rant and got to talk with her and one of the main powers behind my daughter's Parent Teacher Organization (PTO) today.  Boy did I feel like a jerk.  Although, actually, I kind of expected to have more people rake me over the coals, I do have some teacher friends.  Maybe they're too angry.   I got the teacher appreciation week thing cleared-up, my daughter was to bring an item each day for her homeroom teacher and whatever special she had for that day, so two items, not seven.  BIG difference.  I wonder why I just assumed that my understanding, though it seemed over the top to me, was correct?  It's not like I couldn't've called my friend to check.... I just jumped straight to feeling put out.  I guess I feel so out of step with regular non-narcissistic moms that I can't judge what's a realistic expectation of parental participation.

Post-movie Let Down

I enjoyed my alone time watching the IMAX Hunger Games movie here in Columbia, MD. It was a good movie. Of course, I wanted to see so much more than made it into the finished film. I left feeling old, fat, and out-of-shape. I can, and really do need to do something about that. Then I went to Starbucks and had a chai and a piece of pumpkin bread, which seemed like extreme indulgence after life in District 12 or trying to stay alive while being hunted in the woods.

I did some people-watching, with the old fashioned school fire alarm bell and organ music of the mall carousel leaking in through the open entrance of the store. Everyone seems to be so beautiful in their own way. It's weird. They all seem precious somehow,

"And I'm going to be 40....some day!"*

http://www.marketday.com/shopping/products.aspx?sk=0&itemid=4521

I have made it to the night before my 40th birthday.
The kids are asleep, and my husband is asleep in there with them.
The dog is eating dinner. <crunch crunch slurp slurp crunch>

I am cross-legged on my bed with my laptop, an old teddy bear of mine, my sleeping/snuggling blanket (that my mom gave me) and a white furry bunny "tummy time" blanket that looks like a bear rug only it's a bunny.  I couldn't bear to give it away.  (Story forthcoming.)

If you are in the habit of checking here, you have noticed that I was not writing much this past week or two.  I've not been functioning all that highly.

Such a fat-assed waste + UPDATED: Wise Woman

I wrote this entry on March 16, 2012.  Today is the 18th.  I am going to go through this and write in responses that I imagine come from the "wise woman" within me.  (These will be in blue italics.)  This is a technique that my group therapist came up with, herself.  To me, I imagine my wise woman to be myself, only older, perhaps at the end of my life, with all the wisdom of having lived through the life I am struggling with right now.  The key is not to give advice, but to be accepting and present with the feelings of your present self, to soothe and comfort yourself as you might a good friend or young child.  I find it comforting to do.  This can also be done with drawings, where you draw one drawing about something you are struggling with.  Then with a different color or pen or whatever, you see what the wise woman would add or change about the picture.  It can be very interesting.

I have been upset this evening about turning 40 on Monday (I can see how that might be an intimidating milestone for you) and not being able to feel acceptable. (That must have been pretty rough, huh?) My husband took the day off (How nice of him!) and I stayed in bed until 4 or so as if it were a Saturday. (Maybe he felt good to be able to give you some extra rest.) 

It's only money.

http://yoursantafedentist.com/2011/07/05/why-dental-treatment-is-so-expensive/

Yesterday (Thursday) was dentist day at my house (coincidentially, and more humorously, Glennon of the Momastery blog had her kids at the dentist yesterday too).  I scheduled all four of us to come in as successive appointments.  My three-year-old had his teeth looked at for the first time. No cavities. My husband never has cavities. I have decay on two teeth: one will require a crown replacement, the other they can do as a filling, they think. So there's a few thousand dollars to find.

Vomiting meds is not helpful.

Getty Images

I am assuming that I am feeling the fall-out from being so sick Sunday night and having vomited my meds and effectively skipped them for a night.  I took it easy Monday and didn't judge myself too harshly for it.  But yesterday was not good.  My husband got my daughter to school and I got my son off to daycare.  As usual, he did not want me to leave him there and he clung to me.  Luckily, a teacher was able to entice him to play soccer and he gave me three kisses goodbye and I was able to leave the playground without a scene.  As soon as I walked back into his classroom (I had to go back through the building to get out) the tears started.  I looked out the window and saw all the kids playing and the grown-ups taking care of them and wished that I could go out and be one of them. 

Too Sensitive on Saturday

Found at http://dantudor.com/how-to-get-physical-with-your-recruiting-letters/

It is Saturday.  I usually sleep in and my husband and kids bring me breakfast.  Today I slept, woke, meditated a bit on who I am, who I was, who I've become.  Then they came home and I enjoyed my donuts and chai.  I checked Facebook and the stats for this blog and listened to the end of Metro Connection on WAMU (NPR).  My husband informs me that he isn't going to tell me what to do, but that sitting in bed on a day like this was stupid.  My daughter says, "I wouldn't want to sit around like you, Mom."  I can see the strangely warm February sunshine lighting the trunks of the trees in the wooded common area that fills my window.  The Splendid Table has begun.  They are talking about oysters.  Husband is driving the kids out to Bell Branch Park.  Do I want them to return to take me to lunch, er, dinner?  Yes, please.

How sick is sick enough?

http://www.pandemic-flu-guide.com/stomach-flu-symptoms.html

I wish it would just happen.  I wish I could simply face the porcelain god and give my offering.

Instead, I have spent the majority of today lying on my left side and feeling progressively less well.  I don't know if I ate something that disagreed with me for lunch, or if the drainage from the cold that just will not release its grip on my sinuses has finally gotten to my stomach, or if I have picked up the stomach flu  that made my son's Sunday night so miserable.  In any case, I pretty much bailed on the entire day today.

Monday Is Whiny Blog Day

Sorry,  folks, I'm feeling pretty whiny today.  I read the 2/2/12 Momastery post tonight and it was of her usual high caliber, and it just put me out of sorts.  She's always so damn inspired!  And it was Monday.  My husband has warned me against writing whiny posts but that's really all I've got today.  So I whine about my little life,  then I fret about world peace and my lack of contribution to it.
Do you ever feel this way?


Well, it was a Monday.  I only did really one of the things I was supposed to get done today:  I got my butt to the gym.  Even that would not have happened if I hadn't asked my daughter on Friday to remind me by saying, "Mom, ya big fat cow, get your butt to the gym!"

From String Cheese to Surfer Girl: Baggage

http://www.snack-girl.com/snack/cheese-sticks/

My daughter and I had it out today over a moist stick of string cheese.  She had dropped it on our dirty foyer, floor so I rinsed it off.  Then she whined and complained about it being wet so I went to get a paper towel.  When I returned she was drying it with the hand towel from the powder room (yuck!).  Then she complained that it was now crumbly and she wanted another one and I had messed it up and on and on.  After a moment I said, "Fine.  You don't want it?  Give it to me." and I grabbed her hand as she pulled it away, anticipating my move, and I tried to take it from her.  She clenched down, rubbery cream-colored masses welling up between her fingers.