Desperate times call for desperate measures

I'm a negative person.  It's in my DNA.  I take after my father, unfortunately.  I don't like it.  I talk a lot, and blog, about wanting to shake this negative bug.  Somehow the bug always wins.  Yeah, yeah, yeah ... I know what you're thinking ... you're letting it win.  Maybe I am, I don't know.  But my talk is getting cheap and it's time to take action.

I'd like to blame it on my job, or the stress of single motherhood, or my lack of financial abundance.  But by doing that, I'm not owning it.  I'm just making excuses.  And until I own it, it will continue to win over my very good intentions of not letting it win.  I'm swimming so far out in the deep end of the negativity pool that I need a life support device to make it over to the shallow end.

So that's where this comes in ...

I am in the process of positive change.
I am unfolding in fulfilling ways. Only good can come to me.

I now express health, happiness, prosperity and peace of mind.

 

It's an affirmation.  Cheesy?  Maybe a little.  But I've done some research and apparently if you repeat an affirmation like a thousand times a day you start to believe it, and then actually live it without even thinking about it.  *Hand raised* Yes please, I'd like some of that.

 

You see, I can't stand how miserable my dad is.  He's been this way my entire life.  I remember when I was a teenager I used to beg my mom to divorce him.  Everything makes him mad.  And I mean everything!  The wind blowing in the wrong direction would piss my dad off.  It's ugly.  And quite sad really.

 

I do not want my child growing up thinking this way of me.  Or becoming me, like I've become my father.  It's my worst nightmare.

 

So I'm going to paste this cheesy little saying all over the damn place.  On every mirror in my house, every wall, in my car, on my desk at work ... everywhere.

 

My mom always says "what you throw out to the universe, the universe will throw right back at you."  She loves to remind me often that this is why I'm a single mother.  Not because I asked the universe for this life, but because I used to say (and not seriously by the way) that I don't need a husband to have a child and when I turn 30 I'm going to the sperm bank to get knocked up.  Sure enough at 30 years of age I got knocked up (not at the sperm bank) by a coward not nice person.  Oh, see that?!  It's already working!

Have I caught a bad case of momnesia?

Have you ever felt like you're off your game?  Like nothing is quite right?  I'm sooo feeling that way lately.  I feel like I'm in one of those movie scenes where I'm standing still in the middle of a train station and everyone around me is moving in fast forward.  It's a weird feeling.

It's like my brain is on slow motion.  I hear what's coming in to my ears, but my reaction is off.  Here's an example ... someone recently told me that a picture was taken of them awhile back and put into a magazine that was handed out a convention we were at.  I then responded by asking if the picture was taken the night before.  Really?!  The person just said "awhile back" and how in the world could a picture be taken the night before and published in a magazine the next morning?  Right after I said it, in my head, I was slapping myself.

There are things that I do at work that are like auto-pilot for me I've been doing them for so long, and I'll totally space them out.  I joke that if something isn't written down or sent to me in an email I'll forget about it five minutes later.  It's kind of not a joke.

Stress?  I am definitely stressed, and you know what they say about stress.  Maybe I should meditate.  Or pray to the money fairy and hope she drops me some extra cash to make up for the absent child support.

Maybe it's "mommy brain".  I've heard about "mommy brain", also known as momnesia.  I thought it was only during pregnancy, but mine has stayed with me.  I'm lucky if I remember to brush my teeth before I walk out the door in the morning.

Moms, can you relate?  Is "mommy brain" for real?  How do/did you deal with it?

No more sleepless nights

It's happened.  It's actually happened.  It only took two and a half years.

Lovebug is sleeping through the night.

Can I get an AMEN?!

How did it happen, you ask?  Well, let me tell you ...

I ditched the sippy cup.  Wait, let me back up a minute.  First, I weened him off from climbing into bed with me in the middle of the night.  I couldn't take it any longer.  He wasn't sleeping any better being in bed with me and I definitely wasn't sleeping.  It went smoother than I thought.  I have a baby gate in my bedroom doorway so my dog can't get out.  Lovebug will stand there and wait for me to come get him.  So I began climbing over it and he would walk back to his bed, I would cover him up and just like that, he was sleeping again.  It only took a few days of that and he was sleeping through the night.

Once we overcame that hurdle, then I ditched the sippy cup.  It wasn't as tragic as I thought it was going to be.  I told him one night that now that he's a big boy he doesn't need to go to bed with his drink.  I promised him that as soon as he woke up in the morning it would be waiting for him on his Winnie the Pooh chair.  He cried the first night for a little bit and that was it really.  It was as simple as that.  Seriously.

Now we're both sleeping soundly and mommy is a happy camper.  It's a beautiful thing.

Stormy skies

I may hate living in AZ--the heat is miserable, the desert scenery is ugly and everyone is so hateful. I'm pretty sure that's because they feel the same way I do about this hell we live in. Why people actually choose to live here is beyond me. And no, I did not willingly choose to live here, I had no choice.

But one thing I do like, are the desert storms. When I first moved here a very long 13 years ago, our monsoon seasons were bitchin'. There were storms coming in all the time. The lightning shows were killer. But over the last few years they've pretty much become non-existent. And if they do show up, it's always in the middle of the night.

Well today after I put my kid down for a nap, I heard a huge crack of thunder. I immediately ran outside to check it out. The Arizona sky is to die for during a storm. Check these clouds out ...

Of course in the time that I've written this blog post, they're already gone. They come and go just like that.

Good thing I have the pictures ...

Who are you and what have you done with my mother?!

I have to question how my mother was able to raise me and my sister. How was she able to work, have dinner parties, go camping, go to the damn bathroom AND take care of me and my sister?

She watches my kid on Friday's and occasionally when I need a babysitter on a Saturday. She also takes him when I have to go on work trips ... two times a year. One of those times is about to happen this week and I will be gone for a full week plus one day.

So while we are chatting on the phone tonight, she asks me what should she pack him for lunch when she takes him to the sitter's. Um ... what? Well, mom, what would you feed him for lunch at your house? Pack it in his lunchbox and take it to the sitter's. Then she precedes to tell me that he eats different for her than me. Yes, this is true. So ... PACK IT IN THE LUNCHBOX AND TAKE IT TO THE SITTER'S!

I give her examples of some things that I pack for him. You know, the basics--chicken nuggets, tater tots, yogurt, green beans, turkey dogs, string cheese. She says to me, "so you pack the chicken nuggets cold and the sitter heats them up and gives them to him?"

ARE YOU F'ING KIDDING ME?!

Then she says, "how many do you pack?" Holy crap mom, how many do you usually give him when he's at your house?! Pack the same amount, for frick sakes!! For crying out loud, you raised two children, this isn't rocket science.

Let me clear something up here real quick ... my mother is still pretty young. It's not like she's old and starting to lose her mind. She's very much "with it" and isn't this dumb, for lack of a better word.

And let me just say this too ... this isn't the first time I've had to question her. Recently I needed her to babysit so I could go in to work on a Saturday for a few hours. Her and my dad were having some friends over that night. She told me that she could only watch him for about four hours because her and my dad would be in the kitchen preparing the food and she couldn't do that and keep an eye on my kid.

REALLY?! Did you do ANYTHING when you had us kids? Because I remember you going to work, and having friends and family come over for dinner, and every night you cooking us dinner.

I'm having a very hard time understanding what's going on here. I manage to take care of my child ALONE every single day, and I can do things around the house like take a shower, and clean, do some laundry and cook meals throughout the day. ALL BY MYSELF while my kid plays or watches a cartoon. And this is my first time as a mother. This isn't my mom's first rodeo here.

Ugh, I need a drink. Or better yet, a punching bag.

Home is where the heart is ... or is it?

I recently talked to a friend of mine whom I hadn't spoken with in awhile. We were playing catch up, the typical what's-new-with-you convo. She so casually threw out there that she is moving to Wyoming. Whoa, what?! Wyoming?!

She went on to tell me that she couldn't stand living through another desert summer. That she was tired of the drama with her inner-circle. She had a strong feeling that she needed to go to Idaho Falls and check it out. So one weekend, on a whim, she packed her bag and headed for the open road. Needless to say, Idaho Falls was not the place for her.

The next day when she got in the car to head home, something inside her told her to go to Jacksonville, WY. So she did. And she loved it to say the least. It felt like home. Her decision was made, just like that.

On her drive back to the desert to prepare for her big move, once again, something came over her and she made the decision to quit her job. A job that she has been doing for the past 51 years. Luckily for her she has some connections and within no time at all she had another job lined up.

I found myself feeling so jealous. Jealous that she can just pack her bag and hop in the car to find her new home. I hate living here. It's miserable. I've been here for a very long 13 years and I've hated every minute. So why don't I pack up and head out? Because I need my family. Because I can't imagine taking my child from his grandparents, whom he loves so, so much. Because I can't imagine taking myself away from my niece and soon-to-be niece or nephew.

For me, being a parent means putting yourself second. It means making sacrifices for the betterment of your child and their happiness. So I stay.

Home may not always be where the heart is.

I'm gonna wash those greys right outta my hair

I have a lot of grey hair. A LOT. It's hereditary. My mother went totally grey around 27 years of age. I'm 33. I'm also getting white eyebrows. It's awesome.

Most people freak out at the sight of grey hair. I've been getting greys since I was 12 years old. I guess I'm used to them by now. I've colored my hair here and there, but it's not a priority for me and I can't afford to keep up with it. I know that boxed color is pretty inexpensive but I'm a single mama with no help from the other half. My child's health insurance is bit more important than the color of my hair.

I've had two people this week make not-so-kind comments about my greys. Both men, by the way. One said to me "whatever you do let yourself go, please." Let myself go? I look that bad? I took it with a grain of salt considering the source--a very blunt, no-filter kind of guy.

Then today a man that I've only known for like a week or so asks me if my grey is natural or if I color it that way. I laughed and told him no, I did not do this to myself on purpose. Next thing I know I'm being told, yet again, that I shouldn't let myself go and I should try harder. I won't go in to every awesome detail of the conversation, but it ended in me asking if he wanted to pay for it ... and he actually agreed to do so. WTF?!

Maybe they think that they are trying to help me out by telling me that I look old and tired. Yes tired. Man number 2 told me earlier in the day that I look tired before telling me that I need to put a little more effort into myself.

Here's the deal boys, I don't get to come first anymore. My child comes first. His diapers, clothes, food, health insurance, day care, etc. comes way before my wardrobe, my hair, my tan, my everything. And yes, I am tired. Exhausted. There are many days that I forget to brush my teeth or put deodorant on before I walk out the door.

So before you go telling me in your oh-so-harsh-words about how awful I look, I would love to see you take care of your children all by yourself without the help of anyone. And with half of the income that you are currently bringing in. You'll see rather quickly that a $7 box of hair color is not a top priority.

And I wonder sometimes why I hate men so much.