Priorities

I can be a friend to you if we disagree about religion and politics. If we are on opposite sides of a Real Housewives fight, YOU ARE DEAD TO ME! Maybe I need to pick up a book?!

Backhanded Compliment or Medical Observation?

I went to my PM doctor (that is pain management for all of you non-chronic pain sufferers) for a check up and my monthly piss test for refills. Still not an addict or rich from selling pills. Still having the life sucked out of me from my pelvis!!! While getting my vitals the nurse says to me- “You don’t look like you weigh that much!” WOW! REALLY?!!! That is something you said? Like, OUTLOUD? Surprised a bit by this statement I said, “Thanks, I think.”……..”I guess I just carry it well???” To which she responds, “You must be big boned.” Ummmmm- Is that a clinical diagnosis that I can get in writing? I can carry it with me when I have to hunt down an XL or when I go to the beach. LOOK! I CAN WEAR THIS BECAUSE I AM BIG BONED! I have a note from the doctor and everything! Look, I get that you are a thin person and probably don’t have the foggiest idea of what it feels like to step on a scale and have someone standing behind you. If I said- “You look so PRETTY in this picture! You must just photograph well!” I am certain that would leave you wondering if I meant you look hideous in person. If you are someone that is NOT comfortable with the varied appearance of the human body, perhaps you should NOT be in the medical field. I don’t need you to reassure me that I am not actually Jabba-the-hut. Maybe no comment should be the policy here.

I really do not have a thin skin. When the same nurse asked me if I was trying to lose weight, I did not flip shit. She continued to say I was down 6 pounds from last month. Curious, I did not notice. Nice to know! The reality of the situation is something she should be familiar with: Pain = NO EXERCISE! I have not been able to move without pain for years. Pain Management, ALLOWS ME TO MANAGE THE PAIN. Which means, I am more able to exercise. Which means I probably am going to lose weight! (some, anyway!)

Most of the time I think I am just like any woman. I think we all have some insecure feelings about our bodies, no matter what our shape. That I am fine with. Feeling like I can work at something to make me feel better-look better. What I am not fine with is thinking I am some sort of freak show because a nurse says…”You’re not fat, You’re just big boned. “

You know what you can do with that big bone sista?!

Grin and Bear it!

No this is not the title of my own porn production company. It is advice that I am giving and taking. My children unanimously feel like they are not fulfilling my expectations of them. Are they right? Are they wrong? This really is not the point. The point is 1. I must be hard on them. 2. They must feel like they HAVE to make me happy. 3. They need to learn that they HAVE to live their own lives in the way they see fit. 4. They must please themselves- not me!

I am probably too demanding of them. I know that I expect them to do their best every single day with whatever it is they are doing. I expect them to learn from mistakes and keep trying when they fail. These things are pretty much non-negotiable in life-for me. Now, does that mean it HAS to be non-negotiable for them? No. Does it mean if they have a plan that I don't agree with that they are not still wonderful people? Absolutely not! They all have to live for themselves.

Growing up is a difficult enough task without the burden of trying to please someone else all the time. I feel as if the idea that they feel they "aren't making me happy" Is sometimes a cop-out. I seen them make decisions that moms in general would not love-but don't really put a second thought into it-as it is something they WANT (ex. Spending too much money on frivolous things, drinking, dating people that are not good for them. You know your basic late teen/early 20's behavior) They supply this response when discussing life choices. I feel they take my questions meant to provoke conversation as being cross-examined or as a non UN sanction interrogation techinque. I recognize that I do at times come off as harsh or judgmental. But I certainly am not judging them. I had a difficult transition into adulthood and certainly do not consider myself better than they are. Balls, I was working on a divorce by the time I was my oldest child's age. I CERTAINLY am not the poster child for wise young adult choices.

However, I am still holding them accountable for the decisions and chioces they make. Does that mean that I am judging them? I don't think so. But there is merit to the feelings they have. Perhaps my abrupt tone or my desire to know all about their life should be curtailed as they are adults? This is a difficult transistion for all of us and maybe I am making it more difficult for them. I know it is coming from a good place, but maybe it is time for me to "grin and bear it" too?

I Love B for this!

http://brittanyherself.com/aside/the-fear/

Brittany is so honest and open about her feelings and what she wants from life.  I wish we are were a little bit more like her.  For my role in humanity, I am going to attempt to live without fear.  How that will play out, we will have to see.  But I am going to take one step forward and be fearless-only if for a while!

Today is the first day of the rest of my life...mmmmk!

Tuesdy might suck

I am exhausted today! I managed to run my silly ass 2 miles. I am so stoked I got that far and did not die! Though I keep feeling like I can't stop eating. I am not sure how the hell it will help me to loose weight when I only run two miles but chow non stop! I keep arguing with the hubs. We really do argue about how to spend money A LOT...It is annoying. I take care of the bills and I am aware of what we need to pay for and that we need to get out of debt. Which is why I want to PLAN - but he just wants to say NO! we don't need that.... I don't respond very well to that. And the arguments begin! We are crazy close to separating our finances completely- FUUUCCCCKKKK I am going to get a damn snack!!!

Off to the Races

The title reminds me of when I was growing up in nowhereville and kids used to "go to the races" on the weekend. I mean, is this an actual race track or someone's back yard dirt bike track?

I am not referencing a physical race, but a mental one. I seem to have an issue dashing off to the next issue rather than enjoying anything. If I am at work, my brain is focusing on problems at home- when I am at home, my brain is racing back to work. It is almost as if I miss the joy of the moment entirely because I am concerned about getting to or creating the next moment. It is causing me to miss so much and frankly it is becoming exhausting. If I were a triathlete (hahahahahahahahha) I would liken it to biking through the water. Being so obsessed with accomplishing the task at hand as well as preparing for the next, I am drowning and getting nowhere. Fuck, that is really depressing. I seriously need to work on that....but while I am working on that, I have to plan my anniversary weekend......see what I mean?

It's not me...is it?

Sometimes I get on this kick. When I think if I throw my shit up on a blog, it will act as therapy. At the very least someone will call me out on my own self-deluding bullshit. So here we go again. Try number 8 to get an active blog running about life. Maybe my life or the life I want to lead or maybe the life I want you to think I lead. Regardless, I hope to sprinkle some humor onto some words and maybe into your life.

Enjoy-or don't!

Deep thoughts of a thirty something.

I once told my stepmom that I thought people who had children not of their own DNA could love that child the same way the could their "own" As I have gotten older, I had to reassess that idea. I think it was just her that could not give me the same love that she did her birth children. Looking back it seemed to be a struggle for the approval or the backing of my father. How sad is that? On his own, my father could not make any decisions on his own. Not that he was not capable, he was not allowed to. More importantly, he could NEVER voice a dissenting opinion. I think once he tried to back me up when I was graduating. She threw him out of the house. He still gets that thrown in his face.

I often worry if I am turning into my mother. As horrifying as that idea was to me when I was a teenager, it is even more so now.