It’s a Funky-Feeling Kind of Day

Or week…month…*sigh*…YEAR.

I’m in a funk. A deep in the doldrums, feeling super blue about all the things funk. There is just this cloud of BLAH following me everywhere and there is SO MUCH CONFLICT. I hate conflict SOOO SOOO MUCH and yet…

Conflict with kids? Yep

Conflict with spouse? Yep

Conflict with life in general? OH MY GOD YES.

And I know it isn’t the end of the world. I know that I just need to keep pushing through. I know there is sunshine on the other side of all of this…this gray. I *know* that. I really do. But, right now, I’m in the middle of it and I am feeling all of the things that go with it and it just sucks so I need to complain for a moment.

I just wish there didn’t have to be all this damn conflict. I am so tired of the fighting. The fussing. The bitching about everything. No one is happy with anything and it is compltely out of my control. I see conflict on tv, I hear on it the news, I see it when I drive…I just don’t understand why there has to always be all this conflict.

Tomorrow is Friday. I am debating what I need to do this weekend to recharge. To feel better about myself. To give my mind a break so I can let all of this negativity go and feel better about life, in general.

A long day in the mountains? A long day at a spa?

I don’t know. Maybe I will just get in my car and go go go…just drive until I am in a beautiful place.

Of course, it’s supposed to rain like crazy all weekend here so maybe I will just stay in bed and binge watch #OITNB. Ya never know.

But I have GOT to decompress and get out of this funk, y’all. I do NOT have time for this shit.

Wish me luck!

~ The Grey

 

Holy Dessert, Batman

Be jealous I work with someone who makes this stuff and brings it in for ALL of us to eat. Be very, very jealous!!!

Peanut Butter Poke Cake

That is all. I just wanted to share with you all the deliciousness I am currently experiencing right at this very moment (typing this as I lift a decadent, gooey, peanut buttery cake laden forkful to my eagerly anticipating taste buds.)  I swear I can’t get this into my mouth fast enough. It is that good.

 

Okay. Back to the cake!

~The Grey

Shameless

Walking through life with the weight of the world upon my shoulders.

Pushing to break free from the chains of shame that bind me to my past.

To my mistakes.

To my fear.

To the constant threat of being found an impostor in my own skin.

I am not perfect.

But I will walk with shoulders back, eyes forward, chin lifted.

A silent, yet physical protest to the devils in my head,

whispering their words of guilt-inducing discouragement.

I will continue to try to live my life as I want to.

I will continue on.

Shameless

 

 

 

Can You Really Just be Friends with Someone of the Opposite Sex?

At some point in our lives we all seem to have that one best friend, the one we can confide in without limits. Tell them everything, cry on their shoulder, and stay up all night laughing your asses off being obnoxious. There for you in the good times and in those moments when you are an absolute freight train heading towards the cliff with no breaks. For me, that has undoubtedly been a friend of the opposite sex.

In years past, it has always been completely platonic. I thought of these friends as big brothers who always had my back, of which the feeling was mutual. And that was what it was. Complete and total trust in them. Never having to worry about what might happen if we found ourselves alone and those primal instincts of jumping each other’s bones rearing itself.

Usually they had girlfriends whom for most turned into long term relationships if not wives. But here in the later years as we are all approaching the first of those milestone birthdays, I have noticed things have changed, changed drastically. As some, including myself, have endured breakups and divorces the tables have turned. And unfortunately some of those long term friendships I’ve had to let go of.

Let go of due to those primal instincts taking hold. No longer can we stay up laughing and joking all night as it turns into who can jump who first. Can I ask why and what has changed? Is it with age that these casual encounters seem less faux pas? It is after all someone that I have the upmost trust for and added bonus it’s not some random. But the thing is it’s not due to having feelings for each other, more of maybe filling that loneliness void. In the short term it’s great, fucking fantastic.  No strings attached.

As the weeks and months go by though the confusion sets in. One of us seems to meet someone that we want a relationship with and have those more than friends feelings for. Which in turn leads to the other singleton left out in the dark, wondering. Crawling up in their head trying to figure out did they have feelings for that friend.  Or was it just filling the loneliness void, a moment of vulnerability?

I have walked both sides of the equation and decided no more. No more crossing that friendship line with any of my long term friends of the opposite sex. Long term being defined as they knew me pre-divorce, pre-kid, or pre-marriage. Essentially they have grown through the years with me. As I have discovered it ends badly. For some people maybe not but in my experiences over the past few years it is just plain messy.

But what about those I have met since the long term definition? Here’s where it gets even trickier. I met this guy a few years back randomly. We chatted and hit it off immediately. I was attracted to him but we were both in our own separate, weird dating relationships at the time. Kept in touch though and a great friendship grew of it. We tell each other everything and when I say everything it’s all the nitty gritty. We don’t roam in the same circle of friends so I guess you could say we felt safe baring it all. My confidant, a therapist of sorts.

Few months ago it all changed. One night staying up being goofy, as he was trying to get me over the latest heartbreak, that friendship line was broken. Well to say the least it was erased into oblivion. As we were both suffering our own relationship woes we decided to enter into this whole “helping each other through it” arrangement. The two of us being emotionally detached peoples it was great at first.

Then it evolved. Not just a night here and there. But every weekend and the occasional week night. It dawned on me one of the last weekends he was here while we were folding clothes that I can’t differentiate is he being helpful as a friend or something more. It’s all blurred, I mean come on we were folding clothes on a Saturday night. So many mixed signals

He is talking to his ex again and asking me for advice. Before all this I wouldn’t have thought twice about giving advice but honestly I don’t think I can now because my own feelings could occlude it. I will admit when he talked about the ex I had those infernal stabs of jealously raging internally, and that took me by surprise.

Now here I sit pondering what the hell to do with this all. Again asking that damn question:

Can you really just be friends with someone of the opposite sex?  And not give in to those primal instincts….

~Snarky Coppertop

My Dog Almost Died Last Night

Not even exaggerating on this one. So, here’s what happened:

Last night, the hubs was cleaning out the rest of the fried chicken from the fridge. We have several dogs-one small(Petunia the chihuahua) and one medium largish (Molly-the mixed breed chunky butt). They, along with our cats, were gathered around my husband like peasants begging for gruel from their kindly lord, eyeing the chicken he was eating most covetously. And, like every kindly lord, he gave out bites of chicken to his adoring and hungry subjects. Except one of these little peasants was a greedy bitch who took what was not hers.

Petunia.

The chihuahua.

Now…I admit, her greediness is a bit my fault. I indulge her with treats and snacks. I hold her frequently. She comes to my warehouse office with me. She goes shopping at the farmers market with me. Molly gets car sick so she is not much of a traveler, but Petunia is my purse puppy (although I carry her in large totes with blankies for cushion so she is comfy) and I can take her pretty much anywhere.

So, back to the Near Puppy Death Experience.

As husband was dropping pieces of chicken, he made the pieces appropriate for the animal he was feeding. Molly, being a tad slow on the uptake, failed to grab her piece in time and in darted Petunia, stealing the rather large piece. She took it to the hall. And then she came back to the kitchen. We didn’t notice anything was wrong until she started losing her footing. Her hind legs started going out from under her and I saw her eyes wide with fear! Husband was like, “Something is wrong with her!” I grabbed her, squeezed around her chest and forced her mouth open and sliding out of her throat came the ENTIRE piece of chicken she had stolen from Molly. It was too large. She was too small. And she had tried to greedily swallow it whole to keep it from Molly.

My poor baby almost died because she was trying to keep food from her sister. Instead of chewing it, or attempting to chew it, she swallowed a piece that was too big to fit down her throat and my dog almost choked to death. I held her close for a long while after that. She was relieved, her tiny body sagging against mine, her head nuzzling under my chin, her tiny paws gripping at the wrist of the hand that held her to me. My baby was hugging me, holding me just like I was holding her.

Today, she is with me at work. I expect every day I go to the warehouse office, she will go with me from now on. She has always been precious to me since I got her almost 4 years ago. And seeing her almost die last night reaffirmed I need to make being a better pet parent more of a priority. So I will spend more time with her, be more attentive, love on her more. Because I almost lost her last night. I’m so glad I didn’t!!

~The Grey

Petunia

Petunia, at work with her Mommy!

Summer Vacation Anxiety

I always find my anxiety ramping up a little right before school lets out for the summer. In years past, it was generally from trying to figure out affordable childcare for three small kiddos. Who was the best caregiver? Who was the best caregiver that was NOT going to charge me a gajillion dollars to keep my kids while I worked? What camps were there? Did I do day only? What about lunch? Snack?

SO. MANY. OPTIONS.

SO. MUCH. ANXIETY.

Now…the anxiety is there. But not for those reasons. All of mine are old enough to stay home without any supervision. My husband has a job where he has some days off during the week, so that is helpful. Now the only thing I have to worry about is making sure I have a good chore schedule set up for them so they can help keep the house clean during the day. The will mean my weekends aren’t spent cleaning up the disaster left by untidy teenagers. Now I have to figure out scheduling. Who wants to stay at whose house on what days and are they at their father’s house this week? Is my mother wanting her “Nana” time with the girls? How can I work in a few fun and affordable trips this summer? Do we want to try camping? A roadtrip?

A WHOLE new set of anxieties set in and my mind is swimming.

I think, this summer, other than making sure they have a chore list to complete, I am going to let them be bored. They can take walks. They can lay out in the backyard. They can read or have movie marathons or sleep in and stay up late (so long as they don’t wake me up!). They can color and write and figure out how to entertain themselves. I am not interested in staying anxious this summer. And I need them to learn to self soothe their boredom. Maybe we will take a trip/ Maybe we won’t. But I am not going to stress over it.

I hope everyone has a bit of repreive from the insanities of school being out. I hope everyone can find their happy medium with summer vacation planning!

Here is to a happy summer vacation!

~The Grey

 

I have a sensitive child…and I’m an asshole

When I was younger I always said I didn’t want children. For a multitude of reasons. I was THAT person. The one when you shoved your bundles of joy into my arms I had the “deer in headlights” look plastered on my face. The “what the hell do you want me to do with this squirming, crying thing” girl who hates bodily fluids, shrill noises, and such. Um no thank you.

I avoided baby showers and first birthdays like the plague. Something always came up right before and I would “regrettably” have to cancel. My childhood friends always said I would never have kids. I married my ex husband shortly after turning 23. He, fully aware of this, respected it and married me anyways.

I think a lot of it had to do with the fact I basically raised my younger brothers. My mom suffered a traumatic brain injury when I was 13 and my bio father was a raging, emotionally detached alcoholic. My mother didn’t know who I was for a year and a half, not to mention what the hell was going on day to day. Thankfully she did go through rehab and made a somewhat full recovery. But I spent those formative years being mom and not a typical teenager.

Fast forward to age 27. Financially secure and had recently purchased the first home. I don’t know what happened. The fact that everyone I knew was starting families, biological clock pounding, or maybe the next logical thing on the life checklist. Who knows. But I woke up one December morning, looked at my then husband, and said those words…I think we should have a baby.

Now my ex who had resided to the fact we were never going to have kids was elated. I stopped taking birth control and we stopped using protection. Those two months I didn’t think much about it. One late February night I was on the phone with one of my best friends, drinking my glass of wine as I do most nights, all the sudden I threw my guts up in the bushes. I still remember thinking to myself, oh fuck. What have I done because I knew, I knew at that moment I was pregnant.

And six pregnancy tests later, all positive mind you, I was. What struck me odd is I was excited. Really excited. Then the dread set in. Oh my god what am I going to do? I’m an asshole. No really an asshole. I was terrified that I was going to be an absolutely awful mother. What the hell was I thinking?!?! But okay, seriously I can handle this I told myself.

I had a wonderfully easy pregnancy, worked up to the day before I had my precious son though I was in labor on and off for two weeks but never mind that. When they placed him in my arms everything changed. Those thoughts of self doubt melted away and maternal instincts took over. He was the best baby. He spit up twice, no joke, on my mother both times thank god. Never really drooled, put things in his mouth, and enjoyed being clean.

My son has grown into one of the sweetest, well mannered, and intelligent child a parent could want. Kind to no end, shy, and sensitive. So sensitive. Me being a very tough, rough around the edges, snarky, and sarcastic person I can be one of the least sensitive people I know. I sometimes hurt the feelings of friends unknowingly, absolutely not on purpose but it’s just the way I am. Things come tumbling out before I think of the outcome, mouth diarrhea.

The past eleven years have been a struggle. I am not that kind, sweet, doting mother that comes to mind for most. I remember when he was about four he fell off his bike, skinned his knee, and crying his poor little eyes out. I calmly walked over, crouched down, checked out the damage and determined it didn’t need stitches, just some alcohol and a bandaid. I calmly and reasonably talked to him and told him to tough it out. No biggie.

My friend looked at me in horror when I walked back over to sit down and said “you aren’t going to kiss his boo-boo?” I looked at her and said “what the hell is that going to do?” Maybe my actions weren’t the right response but hey I’m human and well I am who I am. Nobody’s perfect. And no I have never read any of those “what to do” books. I winged it.

But that incident did make me look at things differently. Perhaps I did have something to learn about sensitivity. Over the years my son has taught me that I too can be sensitive and I like to think that maybe I have taught him how to stand on his own two feet. He has been bullied for years. Not beat up but more of the name calling, mostly nerd, dork, geek. He would come home crying and it would take moving mountains for him to tell me why. One day he finally did, not too long ago.

My first response was “throat punch them”. Oops. He looked at me wide eyed and say “mom I can’t do that it’s not nice”. Well it’s what I did. I was that kid that chose to fight instead of flight. So I refocused and came up with this. I said “you know those kids who say those things to you and make fun of you because you’re smart? Well one they’re jealous and two most likely one day you are going to be their boss. And you know what that scares the hell out of them.”

The satisfying grin on his face told me I had finally reached an understanding with my precious, sensitive little man. His confidence seems to be soaring now which might have brought a tear to my eye when he walked across the stage this morning, beaming a smile ear to ear with his head up, for 5th grade ceremony to accept the excellence in math award. So maybe this asshole has finally gained some sensitivity. Maybe. I guess time will tell.

Snarky Coppertop