Tag Archives: family

Feelings, Tasks and Being Grateful In This Daily Grind Called Life

Today, I feel accomplished…I cleaned the bathroom. Yesterday, I finished potting my plants and filing “important papers.” Most days, I contemplate dinner and play with the baby. I go on the internet too much and I grab a snack every time I walk through the kitchen. Oh…don’t forget naps…I ❤ naps! But, I haven't napped since Sunday so I think I'm due a few hours.

Today, I thought about how old I'm getting because I was drinking lukewarm coffee while eating a tuna sandwich (gross together) and then went and took a few bites of cold leftover spaghetti, for good measure. I also entered a few sweepstakes. See..old! It's now 2pm and the daily Florida torrential downpour has commenced. My daughter has awoken from another slumbering marathon and I can consider taking a shower with the door closed.

Today, I am so thankful for my husband, who works hard to provide for our family and lets me enjoy my time at home with the kids. I hope he stays safe and dry in the rain and gets home safely after another long day. It’s days like these where he has to work long hours and in bad weather that makes me remember how good I’ve got it. I’m dry…and safe…and comfy.

Today, I guess I’ll give him a foot massage and a hot meal. Tomorrow, well, let’s not push it.

All in all, my days are good. Unpredictable in mood, decent most times, abhorrent at others. Right now, I’m consoling a terrible-two-toddler who can’t get his way while listening to Elmo’s high pitch of a voice in the background and trying to keep my eyelids from shutting from pure exhaustion. And I’m smiling, inside, even if it’s just a little one. It has actually turned into a yawn now. I am so overdue on that nap.



When You’re Paranoid and Everybody Knows It

I had a conversation with my sister over the weekend and even though it was discussed in a semi-joking manner, we believe we have a family full of bipolar disorder, depression and all around mania. The symptoms are all there and the history we’ve experienced, our mother’s and our father’s behaviors, prove indeed that this must be so. I only know from various fiction and non-fiction reads and a friendship with Molly, an expert in all things psychosis-related and an old friend I only see posts of now and then on Facebook. My sister believes she is knowledgable because she has experienced a therapist and some college courses. And of course, we both have had our issues.

Getting back to the conversation with my sister, she just missed a whole week of work. She woke up and just couldn’t go. She felt ill, sick to her stomach and slept…all week. She ended up going to the doctor at the end of day three slumber and he put her back on her anxiety meds and a mild tranquilizer. I feel for her. I’ve done that so much throughout my adult life, I’m surprised I’m as “well-adjusted” as I surely am. I told her it will get better as long as she is on them. That I don’t do that anymore, not even as anxious (or so I believe). Sometimes I think I may be worse, though and I told her that, too. I think people know what I’m thinking or what my next move will be or what I haven’t done. The up and down mood swings, the obsessive cleaner and mom/wife. And then the moody and angry mom/wife. The emotions are really intense anger and frustration. The paranoia goes full swing. I’m going to blame it on possible high blood pressure which I did have briefly after my third child was born. I’m going to blame it on my husband. I’m going to blame it on my mom. I’m going to blame it on the grocery store, or Yahoo! emails or the weather. But, really, it’s probably because I’m a disorderly and that’s just it.

Now, not being a doctor or anything of the psychiatric medical profession or even that sympathetic to it all (yes, it IS tiring even to a victim…the disastrousness of it all) I have to say that it makes me sad and yet motivates me both at the same time. So, this being a short post because it was on my mind and I haven’t written in awhile because, you know, that’s how it goes in my world…I’ll obsess about how I should’ve written a few more paragraphs or what others may think or that I shouldn’t have wasted a half hour on this because someone will know I was slacking (like, who?) and I really should be doing MORE, MORE, MORE.

Ah, the paranoia of it all.

I’ll get over it…eventually.


It’s My Daughter’s Birthday and All She Wanted Was a Cookie Cake

My daughter celebrates an important birthday today. She turns sixteen years old. Sweet Sixteen! One-six. There is a “1” and a “6” standing together!

I’d like to say that I remember all of her birthdays as if they happened yesterday. But, that’s not true. The years have flown by and I remember some more than others.

On her first birthday, we threw a party at my mom’s house. Just family came to see her eat cake and blow out candles. I also remember one of her aunts bringing a rather large platter of chicken nuggets that my daughter very much enjoyed.

On her second birthday, the family, including grandparents and aunts and uncles got to eat pizza with Chuck E. Cheese. What I recall the most is how much my daughter enjoyed being carried around by her loved ones to play video games and dance with Chuck and friends.

On her third, I couldn’t tell you. Same for birthdays four, five and on through ten. Heck, on through fifteen! Those memories flow one into the other on VHS tapes and prints from disposable cameras and more recently iPhone clicks uploaded to a photo site that no one looks at. I faintly recall gold pants, a Barbie cake, more Chuck E. Cheese, a few Disney trips with the grandparents, a silly scarf, dancing, Fudgie-the-Whale cakes, outings with aunts and uncles, bumper boats, eating at semi-fine restaurants, and lots of chocolate cakes.

She never asked for much or anything at all. Maybe it was because we didn’t celebrate with lavish parties. Maybe she was just shy. Maybe she just enjoyed the company of her family the most.

For instance, she is now at the age where she is legally old enough to drive…one would think she’d ask for a car. She is now also legally old enough to get an industrial ear piercing on her own…so, one would think she’d have the appointment ready, first available. But when I asked her if she wanted/still wants these things, she just shrugs her shoulders in a true “I don’t know” fashion.

What she did state clearly, however, is that she wanted a cookie cake. A cookie cake? Yes. That’s what I heard, too. Ok. I told her I’d get one at the local grocery store, easy does it.

But, alas…it’s never that easy, is it? None of the stores located in my area had cookie cakes for sale. I was quite flabbergasted and also bummed out that I’d have to bake one. Not because I didn’t want to, but just because…I really didn’t want to. Such a pain measuring and mixing, especially with a toddler trying to attach his large head to your foot. I dislike it immensely. However, it was such a simple request, how could I let her down?

The cookie cake turned out to be a success. And I semi-enjoyed making it because I knew she would like it and also because the baby was distracted by a piece of cereal he couldn’t quite reach under the dishwasher. It didn’t look much like a success, though…a mixture of fudge brownie and chocolate chip cookie deliciousness, piped with pink glitter icing, shaky lettering and two rainbow-colored candles. But, it was made with love.

I hope my daughter knows how much I adore her. I hope she knows that behind every stern warning and every strict order, that I love her. I’m sure she secretly wishes for a brand new car or even that piercing. But, I love that we spent her sixteenth birthday together laughing and enjoying dinner and a cookie cake made from the heart. This birthday, this one, I will remember. I’ll remember it because it was so simple. A simple request from a sixteen year old. And the simple things are the best things.


The Kids Ate All of the Strawberry Pop-tarts and There Aren’t Any Eggs

Well, it’s 7:40am here and I’m ready for breakfast. I have been awake since 6:30am listening to my husband’s morning rituals…always exactly the same 1) sit up and stare at alarm clock for 10 seconds give or take, 2) shuffle to kitchen to start the coffee, 3) shuffle to the living room to turn on his current news crush…currently The Today Show, but previously Robin Meade and prior to that I believe it was WPTV5 for the weather girl, 4) search for some breakfast food to eat with his eyes closed, 5) shuffle to the bathroom to turn the light on, 6) shuffle to the closet to take out his pants, his shirt, his belt in that order! 7) shuffle to the bureau for fresh socks and shorts 8) shuffle off to the bathroom for primping.

FINALLY! I can get back to sleeping!

This morning, though, the baby is flopping around next to me in the tempurpedic. Knee in mommy’s back…nope, not comfortable. Heel on mommy’s ear…not quite yet comfy. Smelly diapered butt in air right next to mommy’s face…ah, juuust riiight!

I guess this means I should tend to the little golden child. After getting him situated with a clean diaper, a cup of milk and a breakfast cereal otherwise known as Goldfish (forgive me…he was wailing and I haven’t yet had any coffee), I gave my goodbye to the hubby and tried to settle in for a bit more of cuddling with my blanket, so warm and enticing.

But, no…mommy is not going to sleep anymore today. Let’s play and giggle and fart in mommy’s face while she lies there in a half-coma! This all from a 20 lb. child that I should be able to control but I just can’t seem to without my coffee!

I decide I might as well get up and make the damn coffee and check the various news feeds I frequent while the baby watches his Sprout cartoons.

I search for something to have with my medium roast delight…peanut butter and toast…nah, don’t feel like it. Cereal…nope. Banana…nope. Strawberry Pop-tart…suuuure. But, wait, it’s not there. Three boxes of various flavors WERE there but now there’s only half of one box left. And, it’s NOT strawberry…grrrrrrr.

I’ll just make my normal scrambled eggs and cheese then. But, all hopes were dashed as I remembered my husband used the last five eggs to make brunch. I’m so sad…

I reluctantly choose the lonely Brown Cinnamon Pop-tart in its foil wrapper, left behind by its companion that was snatched up and eaten in the middle of the night by a pesky teenager. I finally resign myself to this dry pastry because I’m just in the mood for something sweet and a sugar rush is not always a bad thing, especially when attempting to eat sugar-coated cardboard.

As I take my first bite, I look over to check the baby and I see his eyes glazing over as the warmth of his blanket envelopes him…that little bugger is falling back asleep!

And I’m now wide awake!

Oh well, good morning, fellow bloggers, fellow coffee drinkers, fellow moms and dads, fellow zombies! Hope you have a great day!


Who Cries in the Shower?, And Other Frustrating Questions

I was raging mad a couple of hours ago so much so that I had to go have a nice cry in the shower. I won’t bother with the details, however, let’s just say that it was my first outburst this year and I really tried my darnedest to wait at least a week!

This leads me to other frustrating questions that popped up in my head as I stood there sobbing, shower going full blast, washing away my tears and my body exhausted from the turmoil (or maybe the temperature of the water).

Who goes to retrieve a roll of toilet paper and returns hours later to actually use the facilities without the toilet paper? Apparently, my friend, Melanie does. She told me so this morning. Off to the bathroom, wait a sec…there’s no TP! So, down the stairs she went, made the kids beds, folded their pajamas, trudged back up the stairs, played with the baby being all adorable on the bed…the pee pee dance started in and so finally off to the facilities with no toilet paper roll in tow. “FML!” I can relate.

Who else folds laundry while watching television and leaves the piles on the living room couch until the next day or maybe even the day after that? Well, I do. All the time. I don’t bother putting them away until the kids and husband return home from being out all day or if someone notifies me that they’re coming over. I’m definitely not a slob, but this does sound a bit lazy now that I think about it. Oh well, I’m over it.

Who empties the dishwasher into the empty sink after discovering some weren’t washed well enough INSIDE the dishwasher? My daughter does. And she did that just the other night, actually. That really pissed me off as she tells me “these dishes are still diiiirty!” Oh well! Rinse them and put them back in then! Common sense…gaaaaHHHH! I may have raised my voice in that instance.

Who else has a keyboard desk tray that is falling apart but would be remedied with some wood glue? I do. And my husband threatened today that’d he’d nail the face of the tray back on with his woodworking skills (which are lacking). I retorted that “it’d look like shit” if he did that and “please don’t do it!” He responded with a “STFU f*#stick” and that made my lip quiver. CALM

Who doesn’t roll their eyes? Yeah? Every female I know does. And a few men do, too. Don’t deny it. Note: This one was just because.

Who doesn’t exclaim “FUCK” at least ten times a day whether it be out loud or under your breath or just in your thoughts? I must’ve done so at least that much already and I’ve only been awake for seven hours. I should slow it down.

Of course, as you know, by this time I’m out of the shower, I’ve combed my hair and I’ve attempted to be CALM. I have written these thoughts down while trying to concentrate in a house full of distractions. The husband keeps staring at me, the baby has hit my son on the nose with his helicopter toy and my daughter has disappeared to avoid making tuna salad. My nerves are quite shot. I’m seriously contemplating jumping back in the shower.