growing up

it turns out, one of the hardest parts of growing up is admitting when you've been an absolute cunt for absolutely no reason other than your own issues.

 

years ago, in the og days of the twitter machine, there was a local twitterer that i decided to have beef with:

 

this person had the sheer audacity to set goals and achieve them.

CAN. YOU. IMAGINE?

 

one of her goals was to write/publish a book. and she did. and i bought it and read it. and it was good.

AND HOLY FUCK DID THAT MAKE ME MAD.

HOW. FUCKING. DARE. SHE?

i've been talking about writing and publishing MY WHOLE LIFE. and through my own procrastination and self doubt and general unending ability to create the shittiest excuses of all time, i completely slacked off and never did it.

and she just...did it? 

how dare she set goals and achieve them. the nerve of some people.

yeah. i'm a giant cunt.

turns out she's a completely AMAZING human being and i missed out on years of a possible friendship because of my own petty jealousies.

so. you know. don't be like me.

 

take a minute to look at the irritating spots. the harsh judgements. what is it that really bothers you?

it's uncomfortable. it really is. for me, most of the deep irritations boil down to my own ego.

 

with my kids i really, really struggled in the ways they were like me. i really dug in and fought because i know how hard it's been to BE ME. i didn't want that for them. instead of finding a way to make it better for both of us, i fought it. i wanted to change them and resented that they couldn't change any more than i could. i think there's a lot of damage there on all sides.

with other people it's been my own issues- ending relationships because they cared too much. there must be something wrong with them if they like me. with friendships- i mean fuck. being mad at someone for achieving an AMAZING goal instead of being a cheerleader? that's just petty jealousy.

growing up means learning to set that aside.

talking to my kid about being like me. why it's been hard. what i've learned that makes it better. being able to gently show him how i'm learning to settle into my own skin.

 

meeting people for coffee and realizing how much potential i've missed out on over the years and making the conscious decision to shift the way i view other's success.

 

letting the really nice guy say that he likes me and believing him instead of trying to prove to him why he shouldn't.

growing up is hard yo.

toys r us kid

i was never a toys r us kid.

that was the FANCY store (aka: expensive) and they didn't sell books.

i remember walking through it a few times with my dad and he told me to pick something out but it was so overwhelming i never knew what to even look at.

then i would ask for another babysitters club book.

and he would look at me funny.

and we would go get a babysitters club book.

i don't know where we would get them...that was in the days before barnes and noble. that was before borders or amazon.

WHERE THE FUCK DID I GET ALL MY BOOKS AS A KID?

fuck. that's really going to bother me now.

BUT. despite never being a toys r us kid, i very, completely, wholeheartedly bought into their tag line: I DON'T WANNA GROW UP.

i even remember one of my MANY counselors growing up laughing at me for saying that.

counselor: *smirk* so you're just not going to grow up?

me: if growing up means becoming an adult like you that tears other people down all the time, NO, i WON'T grow up. 

counselor: *no more smirk*

for what it was worth, it was actually my youth pastor, and he quit being a youth pastor a few months after that and became a computer tech.

probably not totally related, but i'd like to think i played a small roll in him not destroying another teenager's life like he tried his damndest to do to mine.

he's the same asshole that made me "confess my sins" in front of the "select group" (rich kids) in the youth group about my pregnancy because THEY deserved better than to hear the rumors in the hallways.

aces.

gee, why am i not involved in organized religion anymore? it's a mystery...

but. back to the not growing up.

*spoiler alert*

i did it anyway.

as soon as the first crib midget popped out of my "birthing hips" (thanks random guy in the hallway in high school) i grew up pretty damn quickly. taking care of my kiddo became the top priority and since he was 9 months old we had our own place, i had steady work, and shit was dialed in.

in 2011 when i quit my job i wasn't exactly smart. i bought the house, blew through all my money trying to fix up the house, and ended up having to go back to work to keep shit together.

this time *knock on wood* i've been slightly smarter and am able to carefully consider what work i want to do from here on out.

and...i kinda don't wanna grow up.

more to the point, i don't know what i want to be when i do grow up.

what did i talk about when i was a kid?

i remember wanting to be a kindergarten teacher for a while. then i had my own kids. a classroom full of 5 year olds? 

i mean...weed is legal now...so...maybe?

my dad wanted me to be a nurse. that dream abruptly died the day he knocked down the broomstick that help up the double pane on a window which then shattered all over his back. i cried, he got stitches, my brother ended up marrying a nurse and it worked out better for everyone in the end.

i wanted to be a writer for...well...as long as i can remember. but making a living at that? while i still have a kid under my roof?

let's be honest, i'm chicken shit when it comes to giving that a try.

i had ZERO plan in high school for post graduation. getting pregnant was probably the best thing to ever happen to me, i suddenly HAD to have a plan.

so now, now i have a moment to breathe, i made sure to have a bit of a safety net, and i get to figure out what i really want to be when i grow up.

do i want to go back to office work? i'm damn good at it. i should be after 20 years.

do i want to get a part time job and write part time and try to chase my oldest dream?

do i want to go back to work full time at some unknown job?

remember the time i had a whole business plan drawn up for a coffee shop that was geared towards parents with kids? i had it all figured out: a computer bar (no internet) with old school games like carmen sandiego, oregon trail, that incredible machine. a small tv in the corner with kids movies playing all the time (lord knows i have that part nailed). an open floor plan to make it a safe place for parents that need to do visitations with their kids to come to- they can play on the car-pet with old school micro machines. they could read books in the take a book leave a book corner, their supervisor could enjoy a nice cup of coffee in a comfortable chair with full visual at all times (and the one thing i've discovered in the last few months is that theres NO PLACE like that anywhere in the valley).

so. now that i'm closer to grown up than not, what do i want to be?

toys r us is going under. so. i guess i won't be a toys r us kid.

one option off the list.

it's a start.

it's ok to be a quitter

"you're like a frog with a lighter under you ass."

that's what my brother told me 6 years ago when i left my corporate job.

i'm sure he'd say the same thing to me today if i told him i left my non-corporate job too.

because i did.

i turned in my resignation today. tomorrow will be my last day at work.

this is a hard one. i've been with the company five years. i'm good at what i do. i like half the people i work with. i appreciate that it's a small woman owned business. i appreciate that it's a recession proof job. i appreciate that they paid me well, i had 401k, benefits.

i did not appreciate the hatred and bigotry and prejudice.

i've listened to it for years.

i've tolerated it. i've complained to friends about it. but i didn't stand up against it.

i dismissed it as just how the industry is. it's blue collar. it's old school small town white men. they have their opinions. me saying anything to them is just going to cause a rift in the office, i can take it. i'm tough. water off a ducks back. be the bigger person. it's not like they're directly attacking me. they don't even know i'm bi. they must have forgotten i'm a single mom. they must not realize. they don't know that what they're saying is offensive to someone they work with and sit next to every day.

i ignored the inappropriate jokes. i brushed off the sexual harassment. what was i going to do? that guys are the guys. most of them have been there forever, skilled workers are scarce, nothing is going to change, so just get over it.

i've looked for other jobs in the past. i've thought about leaving. i always just decided i could deal with it. you know. it's fine. i'm just being too sensitive. that's just the way the industrial field is. i'm not going to make waves. i'm not going to be "that" person.

but then last week, a brand new co-worker, someone who's only been with the company part time for a very short while, felt comfortable enough, in the office, in front of the owner to say "i'm prejudice. i'm not afraid to say it."

just bold faced out there.

and i hit my wall. 

it wasn't directed at me. it was a shotgun blast at whatever situation she was frustrated about. but the bigger issue is that she felt comfortable to say it. just bold faced drop it.

THAT got to me.

that means that the whole environment is that way. even still being new, she felt comfortable enough, felt like she was in a group of people where she could just drop something like that. flat out, bold faced, I'M PREJUDICE.

and i can't be a part of that. i can't be in an environment like that. i don't want to be associated with that mindset. i don't want to be around it, and i shouldn't have to listen to it, even if they don't know I'M the one they're talking about.

people are so emboldened lately, they don't care WHO is listening. they don't care if they offend someone. HOW COULD THEY? everyone else HAS to share their opinion.

i shouldn't have to hear about how they would never, ever allow their family to be around someone gay.

SORRY ABOUT THE CHRISTMAS PARTY. HOPE I DIDN'T GET MY BI COOTIES ON YOU.

i shouldn't have to hear about how single moms are single handedly destroying the government by milking the system and cheating to get more money than a hard working regular person.

oh really. i'm just ROLLING in all my single mom/government wealth. LOOK AT ME SCROOGE MCDUCK INTO MY PILE OF SINGLE MOM MONEY. make it rain food stamps bitches!!

oh wait. i put myself through college. i worked since i was 17. i only took assistance for a very short time after leaving an abusive marriage. AND IT DOESN'T FUCKING MATTER ANYWAY BECAUSE BEING A SINGLE PARENT IS FUCKING HARD AND MAYBE A LITTLE HELP ISN'T THE WORST THING ON EARTH.

it's really fucking hard for me to say. really fucking hard. but i deserve better.

fuck i hate even saying that. i feel like an elitist whiny little bitch saying that.

but really. is it too much to ask for coworkers that respect me and don't talk shit about the core of me? is it too much to want to be in a work environment where i know my coworkers have respect for other people? ESPECIALLY IN THE SERVICE INDUSTRY? do i want to worry about sending a worker to a clients house because they might say something? and i know that's not on me, it's not my company, but it is, because i work there. and i want to be able to tell people where i work without having to apologize.

i don't expect my coworkers to share all my opinions. i don't expect them to agree with me on every topic. or really, considering the group, any topic. but i do expect respect. i do expect to not have to listen to hate all the time. i won't shove my ideas down your throat if you don't loudly proclaim yours across the office, agreed?

and so i meditated on it this week. i wrote about it. i sorted all the different sides. i asked what would happen if i left? what would happen if i stayed? what fears went with it? were they rational? were they reasonable? was it something i could overcome? 

and you know what? i already did once. i already jumped. and it was rough. and i didn't handle it in the most responsible way. but i made it here.

and isn't that part of growing up? learning from what you did before and doing it better the second time?

and isn't this the year of the reboot anyway?
 
i'm so endlessly fortunate to have this opportunity. i have the safety net to be able to step away again. seven years later and my dad is still taking care of me. helping made hard decisions just a little easier. allowing me a way to learn and grow and be a better person.

i can hear him you know.

i can hear my dad talking to me.

"well, that didn't work out so well, did it. what are you going to do now?"

he's been watching me the last 7 years. i've made decisions. i've made mistakes. he's watched it.

and now he's nudging me to try again. it's what parents do. even parents who are gone apparently. they let you try. they let you make mistakes. they watch you plant your ass in the dirt a few times. then they help you get back up, brush the dust off, and come up with a new plan.

so what am i going to do now?

i don't know. i don't even remember what i used to want to be when i grew up. i gave all that up at 17 when i became a mom. taking care of that little person became more important than whatever it used to be i talked about. and then a second little person, and then 19 years later, here we are.

but i think it's about damn time to remember. i think it's time to figure out what i want to be when i grow up.

it's what i do

well, my child is still a child according to the court in whatcom county.

this is very good news.

assault 4 as a juvenile means a year probation, community service, counseling. assault 2 as an adult would have meant jail time and a permanent record.

so. good news.

i should be relieved. i should be worrying less.

but i'm not.

i'm still terrified. i'm still scared out of my fucking mind every single moment i allow myself to even flitter across the whole situation.

i'm trying to sort out still how it got to this point. i'm trying to sort out who this angry reckless stranger is that replaced my goofy artist. i'm trying to hold onto hope that this isn't that far off from "typical" teenager junk that everyone goes through to some degree and he'll come out of it in a year or two and his dad and i will laugh and drink whiskey and wait for him to have a teenager of his own (in 29 years) to put him through all the same but different trials.

i'm terrified that it isn't over yet.

and i'm terrified of my perspective.

and i'm terrified that no one can see my perspective but me.

they started my son on anti-depressants. i'm sure they work great for some people, but I HATE THEM. i especially hate them when they are prescribed to chemically alter a mind that is already in a state of constant chemical development and change.

i've tried anti-depressants exactly twice in my life. the first time i was put on a birth control that was for mood swings and depression. it took three days before i was literally balled up in a corner, under my kitchen table, SOBBING and ready to end my own life. luckily my own crazy prevented me from making any terrible decisions because the dishes hadn't been done and the bathroom hadn't been cleaned, so there's NO WAY i could take my own life and let someone else clean up my (literal) mess. as i was sobbing and trying to figure out what to do, my doctor called to follow up on the prescription and immediately told me to flush the remaining pills and NEVER take them again.

the second time i was on a prescription for a ten day trial which i kept track of via blog and it wasn't TERRIBLE only because it wasn't ANYTHING. it completely flat lined me. took away ALL emotion. no bad, but also no good. i was in a boring, grey fog of nothing. not a great experience.

i'm much more of the mindset to try everything else before medication. anti-depressants are mainly designed to boost serotonin in the brain. the trick is, the brain only controls/contains 20% of our body's serotonin. 80% comes from (basically) your gut. 80% can be controlled through diet, vitamin supplements, exercise. those all sound MUCH safer than handing out a medication that you have to wean onto, wean off of, and has a HIGH rate of increasing suicide risk in teenagers.

but, as usual, mom doesn't know what she's talking about. a pill is easier. it takes less effort and planning. instead of vitamin D and B and meditation, yoga, better food, just pop a pill (and risk an already emotionally unwell teenager becoming more unwell).

a teenager that was asking way too may questions about my brother who ended his life way too soon. a teenager that "felt like he's the same" as uncle steve. a teenager that has always taken the easy way out (no matter how hard i tried to make him work for things). a teenager that has proven he isn't making sound decisions right now.

i am scared to death that he won't take any of this seriously. i'm SO GRATEFUL that he doesn't have a permanent record, but i'm scared that he may think he got away with it. i'm scared that he doesn't understand the impact and repercussions of probation. i'm scared he'll think of counseling and a requirement and not a tool to help. i'm hopeful that community service will teach him something. i'm scared that he doesn't understand the side effects and possible influence of medication. i'm scared he'll only take them until he feels better and ignore that stopping can be so dangerous if not done the right way. i'm terrified that he'll feel worse and not talk to anyone and make the most horrible, life ending choice an angry teenager can make.

i'm terrified that i can't help him. i'm frustrated he won't listen to me. i'm heartbroken that he stopped talking to me and i can't tell him that i've been there and done that.

so i just worry. and try not to think about it. but that's all i think about. i'm a mom. it's what i do.

socially awkward

so. i'm old. and it's hard to teach an old dog new tricks. well, some tricks. "those" tricks i pick up pretty easily. social situations- not so much. awkward yet? it gets better.

i've never been a social butterfly. i've never been one that seeks out the center of attention. i'm at my best in a one on one or small group setting. i'm NOT a good dancer. i do NOT take good pictures (EVER). i'm not the girl that can walk into any room and have them all eating out of my hand in minutes. i'm just not. never have been, not on my list of things to be when i grow up.

i have a knack for putting my foot in my mouth. fuck it. BOTH of my feet permanently reside in my mouth. i have a nasty habit of cursing WORSE than a sailor on leave. my sense of humor is an acquired taste and even then can cross the line faster than an ethopian in a marathon race. see what i did there.

 i love my wednesday nights out. i love any night out. i love being away. conversations that don't include nerf or zelda or who pushed whom down the stairs. i love the band that plays. they're good friends of mine and incredibly talented. i do NOT love how old it makes me feel. most of the kids are college age- as in barely 21, forget they can use their REAL id now, talking about finals and class schedules college kids. i'm talking about my teenager and trying desperately to remember what it was like in college. TEN YEARS AGO. jesus mother fuck. TEN YEARS. i've been out of college ten years.

i watch these kids guzzle $5 long islands and $2 pbr's while i sip at my jack and coke or glass of wine. i listen to them talk about how trashed they got and how they can't remember full days while i make sure i'm drinking water to prevent the slightest hint of a hangover after my two drinks (maximum).

and, because i'm so damn old, i lost my train of thought. OFF MY LAWN.

there. now, i do know this isn't what i started out to write. i got distracted. it happens to old people.

what i started out to write is about how i often find myself feeling more than slightly awkward. and i have this uncanny ability to make people i interact with feel the same way. or at least it seems like that. awkward pauses, uncomfortable silences, the whole gambit.

*change perspective*

so. i started writing this quite a while back. since then i've discovered that i'm not as socially awkward as i thought. a friend invited me to dinner while he was in town with two complete strangers. dinner was excellent, there was great conversation, and i guess at the end of the night the other couple actually enjoyed my company. i have since talked to other people that enjoy being around me IN PUBLIC as strange as that may seem.

life is about learning and changing and growing and figuring out how to accept yourself as you are. i am not a social butterfly.  i am NOT good in large groups. i KICK ASS in small groups though. give me one or two people to talk to and i can hold my own like a fucking pro. that is my strength. i'm learned enough random facts over the years to bullshit just about any topic, i can read people pretty well and actually use my edit button (yes, i do have one that i can dust off on occasion) when needed. i won't be the one getting drunk to deal with the situation, i won't be the one in the corner giving everyone the evil eye either.  and you know what? the world needs people like that. it needs large group entertainers and small group entertainers. it need big bold people and maybe not quieter but bold in a different way people.

i'm still awkward in most social situations. i'm still the quiet person at the bar. i'll be the one sitting at the bar alone sipping my drink, enjoying the music, and OCCASIONALLY talking to the person sitting next to me. i don't fit in a big parties, but small dinner parties are fracking awesome. i don't like going to huge concerts, but if there's a group in a small venue count me in! i'll brave an arena full of people for a hockey game and maybe chat with the person in line getting a pretzel (but probably not) but would prefer a night at home with a glass of wine and a good friend.

and you know what? THAT'S OK.

and then i was all...

today has been deemed random blog post day. there’s too many ideas to narrow it down to one. so. strap in. it could be a fucked up ride.

first off. i’m disappointed with myself. i knew that making changes in my life would open me up to new things, different things, the same things from a different perspective. i didn’t expect to hate- nay- loathe myself this early on in the process. yes, that’s right friends, a dixie chicks song made sense to me. I KNOW. i’m ashamed enough for all of us. but really…all of a sudden i’m listening to my mp3 and wide open spaces pops up and it just made sense. and yes, that was me admitting to having it on my mp3 thus giving it the ability to pop up and cause this whole identity crisis. going down in flames before i’ve even started the journey.

next. i have decided that i HATE tall book shelves. will never own another one again. ever. now i’m a tall person, so please don’t think i’m height discriminating. actually, think that all you want CAUSE I AM. i hate tall book shelves. you can never see what’s on top, they take up a whole wall, and if you’re not crazy diligent then whole villages of dust bunnies will move in and take over the place. i decided this weekend that the tall book shelves had to go. i swapped them out for little half height cubicle shelves and I LOVE IT SO MUCH. i have space to set things and decorate. i have wall space to hang pictures. i have NO MORE DUST VILLAGES. seriously, the swiffer duster was disgusting when i finished cleaning off the old shelves. it was a relatively small change, but it made a HUGE difference in my house- less claustrophobic, more clean, better displayed, all around happier shelves. it’s the little things that make a difference.

random #3: i broke my new car. yes, bonnie has been mortally injured. ok. maybe not mortally, it was more like a hangnail, but it happened. i was backing out of my garage and discovered that my side mirror does NOT bend backwards, and more importantly, does NOT bend back forwards after being bent backwards. also: insurance/warranty doesn’t cover stupid. so. $180ish later bonnie has been fixed and now my new car is old. the first official battle wound. all fixed up and better, but i’ll always know that the original side mirror met an untimely demise.

if insanity is defined by repeating the same action and expecting different results: I’M INSANE. we tried another pet. I KNOW. someone needs to put my picture up at the pound and not even let me in the door. BUT: the cat has made it over a year, so i’m not completely hopeless. so. the story goes like this: we adopted an akita. BEAUTIFUL dog. he was 3 years old, fully grown, and fit right in. was perfectly behaved while we were home over christmas break. got along perfectly with the kids, didn’t mind the cat, acted great when people came over and we did glee karaoke at way too loud of a volume with way too big of actions to go with the singing. strike that- there’s no such thing as too loud or too big of actions when it’s glee karaoke. but you get the idea. GREAT dog. no accidents in the house, didn’t even think about chewing up one thing, didn’t cause any problems. then we had to go back to school/work. turns out he had a bit of an anxiety/separation issues thing going on. TORE THE HOUSE APART. destroyed the kitchen blinds/curtains. shredded the plastic blinds in the living room. that was the first day. so i thought: my bad for leaving him out, i’ll put him in a kennel. second day: destroyed the kennel. or more correctly the contents of the kennel and everything near by. i had left a blanket, a bowl of water, and some toys in with him. DESTROYED. and he somehow managed to pull a stuffed giraffe off a shelf nearby and eat that. apparently the giraffe wasn’t good eating according to the mess that was smeared all over the kennel, through the wire mesh, EVERYWHERE. so i thought: my bad for leaving things in the kennel with him. so. day three: dog, rawhide, kennel. came home to the kennel TORN APART. still no idea how he did it. one of the big wire kennels and he managed to tear one of the doors down. it’s the kind that can collapse for travel, so it’s not a complete feat of strength, but still- those things are pretty damn solid when you put them together. but he tore it apart and got out. so. he had to go back. he was GREAT when we were home, but there’s no way we could have a dog that couldn’t be left alone. we’re gone more than i realized- grocery shopping, errands, movies- just a deal breaker for us. so. no more dog. back to just the cat. who, by the way, is even MORE obnoxious now that she is back to being an “only child.” ugh.

random #15: i think i broke my finger. well, not my finger, the knuckle on my right pointer finger. it hurts.

so. we all know how hard it is to take a GOOD picture of ourselves. don’t lie- you know you’ve tried it a million times on your digital camera or cell phone and HATED the results. know what’s even harder? taking a good picture of your own arm. it’s REALLY HARD PEOPLE. i’ve been trying to take a picture of my sleeve for a few weeks now and just can’t make it work. even got the spawn to try it…well…that’s a whole different story. you thought _I_ was technologically incapable? turns out it gets worse when you pass that gene on. anytwaddle: i have a half sleeve tatt now that is almost done and i can’t get a good picture of it to show off. so. imagine flowers. there you go. that’s all i can do for now. (not really, THIS is all i can do for now: 

random #5: there’s something very liberating about realizing you’re learning how to get past what you think other people will think. i’ve had a nasty habit…well…forever…of editing what i write depending on how i think people will respond to it. i’m (slowly) learning how to get over that. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR HOW PEOPLE FEEL. i write what i write. how people feel in response to that is up to them. i can’t dictate what mood they’re in or how they interpret something or the voice they attach to my writing. IT IS OUT OF MY CONTROL, AND I AM OK WITH THAT. that’s a hard sentence to write. especially for a complete control freak. i know how things sound in _MY_ head and how i would LIKE them to sound in your head, but i can’t control that and it’s ok. i don’t need to let that dictate what i’m going to write and how i’m going to express myself. i will not be unnecessarily vicious or mean (well, not without proper warning anyway). i will not go out of my way to offend people or be completely out in left field. but it will happen from time to time that people are offended. or that they didn’t read a particular post the way i intended it to come off. AND THAT’S OK. along the same vein: it’s liberating to look at situations that are already in turmoil or where there are already problems and be able to speak my mind. i’m slowly leaning that the things i think are the worst that could happen rarely do happen. the worst response that i think i’ll get is rarely the true response that i do get. and when things are already in turmoil or when there’s already a problem it’s not like i can mess it up any more. well, i probably can, but that’s not the point. if there’s already a rift or a lack of communication, what is there to lose by speaking my mind? if someone has cut me out of their life or decided to move on, what do i have to lose by speaking my peace? the answer: NOTHING. and it generally helps me out to know that i’ve done and said everything i could on my end. but it really is liberating to realize that. so. learn from me. your yoda i am.

you can shoot me now. i apologize for that. can’t believe i just dropped a yoda line on you people. i’m sincerely sorry. i suppose i could delete it, but eh…that means backtracking and hitting extra buttons and it just sounds like too much work.

BIG NEWS: i’ve decided what i want to write first. i’m going to write my story! i’ve been thinking about it lately and i just really need to get all my history out of my head before i can get a character with a history of their own up in there mixing everything up. so. that’s my starting point. ME. i’m excited to see how it will turn out. that may sound strange, but you know how it goes- different parts and pieces come together at different times and it make all different stories. i don’t know what will be important or come to the front or want to be written about first. but i’m excited to see what path it takes, which of my experiences makes the cut, and what it tells in the long run. think of all the different blogs- how on different days, different pieces of my past have come forward to shine. they weren’t all in order, they didn’t all have the same tone or purpose to them, but they were all important and all were pieces of me. so. i’m excited put it into book form and see where it goes. hooray! a starting point!

i’m sure there’s a million other random things that i’ve been thinking of that i’ll think of again later, but right now…i think i’m good. i think that’s most of it. i’m doing a ton of thinking today apparently. and i like the work apparently apparently. there will be a more serious post up on the meatball page in a bit...so, if this doesn’t suit you today, give me a few minutes and we’ll try something different.

girl problems

i’m going to rant. it’s going to be mean, it’s going to be ugly, it’s going to be judgmental. so. you know. if you’re not in the mood for that, turn away now.

you’ve been warned.

so. the oldest spawn had a girlfriend for a while. now. i’m not a big fan of the whole girlfriend thing at this age (he’s 12 if you’re playing along at home) BUT i know that they’ll fade and break up on their own soon enough so there’s really no need for me to be sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong. i tried to keep my opinions to myself on this one, but i didn’t do a very good job. BUT THERE WAS A REASON.

right about the same time the spawn acquired this cling-on he was also allowed to set up an email account. i told him i would be checking it from time to time until we establish a good level of trust that it’s being used properly. he understands and is ok with this.

so with the email account came emails from the girlfriend.

i get that they’re 12. i get that they’re hormonal. i get that things are different now than 18 years ago when i went through all this crap. i get it. i do. BUT. there’s some things that still are not ok.

this girl is a FREAK. and for me, the queen of slightly off kilter to say that…it’s bad. it’s fucked up. it started with the “i love you” bullshit. i personally think that 12 years old is way too young to be saying things like that. ESPECIALLY the first week you’re “dating” someone. are you fucking kidding me? emo much? FUCK. then comes the bullshit of “my mom is so happy that i’m with you now because i was always depressed and suicidal before”

YOU’RE TWELVE YEARS OLD. are you fucking kidding me parents? you’re teaching your daughter that it’s ok to put that on someone else? to let her make someone else feel responsible for her happiness? what the fuck happened to teaching your daughter to like herself and be comfortable and secure ALONE? how dare you let her put that pressure on my son?

then comes the bullshit of “why don’t you say i love you anymore? are you getting tired of me? i can’t imagine my life without you…”

OH HELL NO. you’re not starting some bullshit drama up in here. my son is NOT required to tell you he loves you to keep you happy. you are NOT allowed to put all this pressure on him and make him feel like if he wants to get out of it (like most 12 year olds tend to do) that he’s ruining your life or risking you hurting yourself. OH FUCK NO YOU DON’T.

but then things mellowed out for a while, the school break came up, things naturally cooled off and i backed off. **NOTE: i wasn’t doing anything during all the drama besides reminding my son he is NOT responsible for another person’s emotions. he can’t make someone happy (or sad) that is THEIR decision. he needs to treat all people with respect and be a good person, he’s not allowed to be mean to people, make fun of them, any of that, but from there on out the responsibility is on the other person.

so. they went on their first little “date.” it was annoying. whatever. typical 12 year old date. they went for frozen yogurt and he sat at one table, she sat at a different table with her friends and the girls chatted while my son made origami. nothing big. then they went on a second "date" to the movies on sunday. all cool, mellow, no big deal.

*sigh*

then they went back to school. and the shit hit the fan. i guess on monday my son let this little gal know that he wanted to hang out with his friends a bit since they haven’t seen each other for a few weeks during break. no big deal. BUT during recess another girl happened to have the audacity to talk to my son. and the world ended. and the emails flooded in. all the insecurity came pouring out. i guess there were MANY tears in the hallway at school and much drama. the girlfriend saw my spawn talking to this other girl and all hell broke loose about “i know she’s prettier and smarter than me, but it would tear me apart to lose you, i can’t imagine my life without you” and all this bullshit.

OH FUCK NO. he’s allowed to talk to whomever he wants with no drama. there’s none of this pushing your insecurity on my son. i get that you’re 12 and you’re going through the awkward hormonal phase. but COME ON. the girlfriend spent hours in the hallway at school crying because some other girl talked to him for two minutes while he was hanging out with guy friends. oh lordy. i fucking hate girls.

so. my spawn decides he doesn’t want to put up with the drama. we talk about it, i explain why it bothers me, i explain that i understand that he likes her and the decision is his. we talk about ways to make it better or to “break up” without causing more problems. i remind him that this is HIS business, he doesn’t need to talk about it with all the people in school and try to get friends going against each other or finding things out. i try to guide him through it a little bit. there’s no reason to make it into a whole school issue of he-said, she-said back and forth and causing problems in the hallways.

so. he decides to go ahead and “break up” with her. i told him he can blame me, i told him he could say he’s not old enough to deal with all the emotions and responsibilities of this (he’s really not yet), i told him he could just say he wants to hang out with his friends and have her be a friend again…lots of options.

so yesterday at school i guess he did the deed: he told her that he’s not old enough for something this serious right now and he wants to wait until he’s older to date someone and say things about being in love with them. he wants to just hang out and be friends again and not have to worry about all the other stuff. i have no idea how he actually said it, i’m sure it wasn’t the smoothest process, they are 12 after all, but i think he did the best he could.

but. *sigh* drama was not to be avoided. at least it wasn’t in the hallways at school this time. it was all via email. and the email went something like this (yes, i looked. yes, i copied and pasted. yes, i’m sure on some level that’s a bad parent thing to do. but…oh hell, i don’t care. whatever. here’s her email)

If you are wondering why I'm not upset, it's because I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at myself for being an idiot. I was hot headed, jealous and rushed things. So I'm not mad at you.

I was really suicidal about everything for awhile.

I just wanted to ask you if we could stay friends. If you want to, we can wait until were older to be boyfriend and girlfriend again. But if you don't want to, I understand. Can we pretend like nothing happened and just be friends for now until the day you want to be together again? (if that day comes)

DID YOU CATCH THAT? a twelve year old girl is suicidal about breaking up? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? WHERE THE FUCK ARE THE PARENTS AT IN THIS BULLSHIT?? this girl needs some HELP. i can’t believe at 12 she can even pretend to have a grasp of what that means. or what it implies. or what responsibility that puts onto other people. WHERE THE FUCK ARE THE PARENTS? why are you letting your daughter be this way? why aren’t you looking for ways to help her? why aren’t you teaching her to be a strong confident young lady? why are you allowing her to learn to hinge her happiness on others? why are you teaching her to validate herself in relationships? ESPECIALLY AT THIS TENDER AGE? in the middle of hormones and growing up and not knowing anything. THIS IS WHEN YOU TEACH THEM. this is when you guide them. you DO NOT let your 12 year old daughter make my son feel like he’s going to cause her to commit suicide. we’ve dealt with suicide in our family. I KNOW what it means. I KNOW what it does to other people. I KNOW how it makes people feel. you may NOT let your daughter put that on my son. PARENTS: PULL YOUR FUCKING PREPPY HEADS OUT OF YOUR ASSES AND DO SOMETHING HERE.

so. the spawn and i had a long talk last night. we talked about how the girl might feel this way. we talked again about how it’s not his responsibility to make her happy. it’s not ok for her to make him feel the pressure of her being suicidal or not. she’s growing up and going through changes the same way he is, and she’s trying to learn how to deal with all the emotions and things, just not in the right way yet apparently. we talked about how it may be best to just be friends with people for a few years to avoid more problems like this. he can totally blame me if he wants, tell them that his mom won’t let him have a girlfriend. i’m completely ok being the bad guy in these situations. i reminded him again today before school to ignore all the talk in the hallways, it’s no one’s business but his. her friends can’t make him fell bad. he doesn’t need to discuss all the details and talk about it- it will only make things worse and cause more problems. water off a ducks back. they’ll probably be mean because she’s hurt and they want to defend her- that’s ok. it’s all part of the process…just don’t get into it with them. let it slide. just keep walking and stay out of it.

i know today is going to be a hard one for him. i know that girls (and their friends) can be vicious and mean when things like this happen. i know people are going to be talking and blaming and whatever. i hope he makes it through the day relatively unscathed. i’m REALLY glad that he has the boys and girls club after school- the director there (bobby) is REALLY great about helping the guys through stuff like this, giving them good advice, listening, being there for them.

i’m just mad as fuck that he’s had to learn this already- especially to this extreme. grumpy mama bear.

stupid girls.

a farewell to 2010

well, another year is coming to an end. i'm not sure what it means any more- the changing of one year to another. do i believe that magically over night with the dropping of a ball, a ton of glitter, and the consumption of way too much alcohol by the general public things will suddenly be all better? that all the shit that happened over the last calendar year will be put away and never thought of again?

no. i do not. i don't particularly understand the big celebration- it's just turning another calendar page. it's another way of marking time passing- and we all know time is passing too quickly anyway. no need to celebrate it and egg it on and make it think we're happy it's getting away from us so quickly.

do i have any big resolutions for the new year? no. my resolutions started a few years ago when loved ones started checking out early. my resolution to enjoy time with the people i love more. to let them know how much i love them. to spend more time making myself happy and less time doing what i'm "supposed" to be doing just because i think i'm "supposed" to be doing it. to let go of things that are unhealthy, no matter how hard it may be. to embrace things that promote me being the best self i can be an in that being the best mom and friend i can be.

was 2010 a particularly bad year? yeah, it was. any worse than 2009? not really. any worse than 2003? not really. any worse than most years in my history? well, yeah, it was. but it was also a good year. life changed. devastating things happened. but i wasn't the only one they happened to though. and though all the shit some really happy things came to pass. i was able to find really healthy people to surround myself with. i was able to take trips and go places for the first time ever. i was able to take my first family vacation with my kids. i will be able to take a full year off to see what i want to be when i grow up and learn how to be a better mom and friend and person. i've learned empathy and compassion and understanding and that life does continue on even when the worst possible thing that you could ever imagine has happened. i've learned the difference between grieving death and celebrating life. i've learned that even in the middle of terrible darkness there can be laughter and love and support and friendship. i've learned that life will reflect what you want to make it reflect. if you focus on the bad, then everything will be bad, everywhere you look there will be problems around every corner will be illness, drama, hurt, more bad. if you focus on the good  you will find happiness, friendship, support, love, health, good memories. yes, the bad still happen, but you can look past and through them to find what you can take from it and use to help yourself grow.

i'm starting to sound like one of those people that i hate...i'm not sure when exactly i became a pollyanna fucking sunshine, but there it all is in text. so. i guess i am.

i just know that if anyone get to complain about what a shitty year it is, i hold that trump card, but i'm not going to play it. i would rather instead focus on the great last birthdays i had with my dad, the great first holidays i had with my kids, the great first trips i got to take with (or to visit) friends. i would rather look back and know that we made the best of the worst than just stop and look at the worst.

i'm still crying while i type this. it's still really fucking hard. it still sucks to look back and admit all that's happened over the last two years. it's too much to sit still and think about. it still takes my breath away and stops me in my tracks at the strangest moments. but that's ok. those will happen for many years. there will  be many good years to come. i'm sure there will be many more bad years to come too. it's all about balance. 

anytwaddle- happy calendar change day. happy start writing the wrong date on checks for a month. happy night to get smashingly drunk and kiss a stranger at midnight. or happy get smashingly drunk and kissing the one you're with. happy make a bunch of new resolutions that you wont keep. one way or another: HAPPY. happiness to all of you. may you learn to see the good and celebrate it. may you be surrounded by people that you love from here forward. may you truly have a HAPPY new year.

happiness, rainbows, unicorns and all that other schmoopy shit- from our family to yours.