Posts Tagged ‘getting through the day’

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   PrincessJenn Munching on fresh cheese buns from the bakery. It’s my own personal kind of heaven right now. 21 Jul 2010 from TweetDeck

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   MyBottlesUp @PrincessJenn i would so flash you for a fresh cheese bun right now. 21 Jul 2010 from TweetDeck in reply to PrincessJenn

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   ArtistMother @PrincessJenn @MyBottlesUp I would flash MY fresh cheese buns for one from a bakery. 21 Jul 2010 from TweetDeck

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   PrincessJenn @MyBottlesUp @ArtistMother BWAHAHAHA you guys slay me. Waiting for the emailed pics 21 Jul 2010 from TweetDeck

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   MyBottlesUp FTW!!!!!!!!!! RT @ArtistMother: @PrincessJenn @MyBottlesUp I would flash MY fresh cheese buns for one from a bakery. 21 Jul 2010 from TweetDeck

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   MyBottlesUp @PrincessJenn GIVE ME THE BAKERY FRESH CHEESE BUN, WHORE!!! (crying, i’m laughing so hard… cuz i’m totally yelling this to you in NYC) 21 Jul 2010 from TweetDeck in reply to PrincessJenn

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   PrincessJenn @MyBottlesUp ROFL!! Come and get it, baby. 21 Jul 2010 from TweetDeck in reply to MyBottlesUp

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   Anne54304 @PrincessJenn Would it be wrong of me to call you an evil food teasing bitch right now? 21 Jul 2010 from TweetDeck in reply to PrincessJenn

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   MyBottlesUp @PrincessJenn can you at the very least twitpic it???? please???? 21 Jul 2010 from TweetDeck in reply to PrincessJenn

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   PrincessJenn Picture of my cheesey buns for @MyBottlesUp 21 Jul 2010 from TweetDeck

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   PrincessJenn @PrincessJenn Well that didn’t work. Way to go tweetdeck. 21 Jul 2010 from TweetDeck in reply to PrincessJenn

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   MyBottlesUp @PrincessJenn YOU ARE A TEASE!!!!!!!!! A CHEESE BUN TEASE WHORE!!!!!!!!! 21 Jul 2010 from TweetDeck in reply to PrincessJenn

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   PrincessJenn OK this time for reals. Cheesey buns: http://twitpic.com/27czbw http://twitpic.com/27czzb 21 Jul 2010 from TweetDeck

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   MyBottlesUp @PrincessJenn you should see the size of my eyes…. because they would frighten you. 21 Jul 2010 from TweetDeck in reply to PrincessJenn

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   PrincessJenn Oh, and this might be for dessert, @mybottlesup. Don’t hate. http://twitpic.com/27d0ef 21 Jul 2010 from Twitpic

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   MyBottlesUp @PrincessJenn might?!?!?! there’s already one missing!!!!!! 21 Jul 2010 from TweetDeck in reply to PrincessJenn

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   PrincessJenn @MyBottlesUp Wasn’t me. I swear. One of the girls at group stole one 21 Jul 2010 from TweetDeck in reply to MyBottlesUp

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   MyBottlesUp @PrincessJenn and was her name vista??? and did she give it to her mommy??? #youarefullofshit 21 Jul 2010 from TweetDeck in reply to PrincessJenn

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   PrincessJenn @MyBottlesUp LOL!! NO, I swear. I bought them before group and share them as a mommy’s snack. 21 Jul 2010 from TweetDeck in reply to MyBottlesUp

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   PrincessJenn @MyBottlesUp What I didn’t show you is all the cream puffs we may have eaten which is why only one cinnamon bun is gone. lol 21 Jul 2010 from TweetDeck in reply to MyBottlesUp

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no. i’m not going. for those of you who follow me on twitter, you are aware of this… probably have been for a while. and for those of you who have unfollowed, if not blocked me, on twitter, yet continue to read my blog (yes, i see you) then perhaps this is news to you.

so, in order to fully embrace the pink elephant that has existed for nearly 10 months, here’s the deal… i gave my ticket away. months ago. it’s gone. been gone. to a wonderful human being… to someone i admire, someone i respect and someone who continues to blow my mind with her strength and inner growth.

my only regret is that i will not be able to hug this amazing woman.

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but back to the elephant… my hate mail has heightened since another blogger, a very well-known blogger, endured her own experience very recently and posted about it. as per usual, word spread quickly in the blogosphere and in the land of twitter.

as for me, i was at my cousin’s wedding, in austin, tx, when this occurred and yet my phone blinked and vibrated with incoming messages, emails and tweets.

and when i felt my phone vibrating inside of my clutch, i was left to assume there was some sort of internet drama taking place that people were making me aware of. (after all, i was sitting in a chapel with my entire extended family. obviously no one was trying to reach me about the death of a family member. those calls are the worst.)

anyway, i don’t know catherine. we do not correspond on twitter or elsewhere. but once i got myself up to speed on her story, her experience, i empathized with her. while i may not know her or “know” her (as those of us bloggers can come to “know” one another without truly knowing one another), or even be one of her eleventy followers, i empathized.

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then i read a thought-provoking post yesterday on mamapop.com and i couldn’t help but take some time to be quiet and reflect.

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how quick we are to respond… myself included.

but how slooooow we are to let go. i mean truly LET GO.

we want instant gratification.

and ultimately…

life is too short.

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part of me envies this nifty aspect of men that i have heard about and even been witness to on rare occasions. men are wired so differently than women, and whether the “grudge-holding” wire was once cut in their brain and thus set a precedent… i dunno… point being, men get over shit.

some men.

those men who still have that wire fully intact, find themselves emailing me and/or commenting me just as much hate as women, or referring to me in the comments section of other blogs as one of the “few bad apples to leave such a strong impression,” or continuing to create false twitter accounts using my picture and/or name.

so i ask you, yes YOU, those of you who continue struggling with letting go…

have you thought for just one second that you have prejudged?

have you been criticized yourself? like, ever? on a continual basis?

have you had others bring shit up to you that causes you to roll your eyes and think to yourself “really?!? you’re STILL thinking about this and asking me about it AGAIN?!?”

and lastly, why on earth can’t you let go?

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if you think that i’m not talking about YOU in this post, you’re wrong.

i am. all of you.

but don’t worry, you won’t see me in NYC. i’m visiting friends the sunday and monday after the conference. i won’t run into you.

i’m not giving the keynote.

but if i were, it would have been something along the lines of this post, because ultimately, this ugliness that continues to manifest itself here and there is not about me, it’s not about catherine either or any other blogger who has posted something remotely controversial on their blog.

it’s about us all.

i’m not pregnant.

actually, we have not even been trying.

the baby-bug is gone.

squashed, infact.

we’ve dodged circumstances regarding paul’s job twice in the last few months since i had my IUD removed.

our almost 27 month old magoo has fully embraced the “terrible twos” and poses many-a-challenge on a daily basis right now.

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i’m scared.

there, i said it.

i’m entirely scared… of a lot of things.

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i loathe planning things that end up getting changed. by nature, i’m a planner. i like knowing what is coming next. and when things are set in place, i get set in place.

we don’t know what’s coming next in terms of paul’s work. quite frankly, we never do. and while that’s no surprise because it’s always been that way, it’s still this in-your-face thing that smacks me every so often and says, “ha ha, whatever control you thought you had over your life, YOU DON’T!!!”

that is a tough reality for me to face.

i’m not a good military wife. i don’t do well when paul is gone. as much as i like to think of myself as being independent and self-sufficient and all “i don’t NEED him to function,” that’s not entirely true.

i do need him.

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at some point in time, once we have fulfilled our orders here in maryland, paul will take a job that will require him to be gone. we don’t know for how long, but we know this is inevitable.

we will be in maryland for another year and a half.

during that year and a half, paul SHOULD NOT be sent away.

so it’s ideal for baby-making time, right?

right!!!

but… i’m scared.

i’m scared to be left alone, without a partner. i’m scared to be a single parent. i don’t know if i can do it. and i don’t WANT to raise a kid(s) without paul around.

the few trips paul has taken within the last few months (and they have been short trips, only lasting a few days at a time) have brought me to my knees. i have complete admiration for single parents and all they do… because they DO IT ALL.

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so here i am, scared… of the unknown… of not even being able to predict what is next for us… and i’m allowing this fear to get the best of me.

i am holding us back.

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jackson was a surprise. and we just made it work. we never had to have the back and forth conversations, asking one another if we were “ready.”

maybe it’s easier that way?

maybe it’s not?

maybe it’s never easy?

i don’t know.

i do know that i want more kids. and i know that now is “a good time” to get pregnant. paul would be home for the entire pregnancy and for a good amount of time after the baby would be born.

but then what?

then we would move, again, possibly further away from family than we are now… and then paul would be gone for extended periods of time, leaving me with a school-age magoo and a wee-new-magoo.

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so here i am. scared.

i don’t want to be scared.

i want the baby-bug to sting me again.

i think…

obviously not this guy…

i hate 2 years old… the age. 2.

not my kid who is 2 and some change. i don’t hate him… i hate his current age.

and yes, when i say “hate,” i mean HATE. LOATHE. DISTAIN.

i hear that 3 is worse than 2… 4 is worse than 3… 5 is worse than 4, etc.

so ultimately, you people are telling me i’m screwed.

super.

thanks.

starting to think i made the wrong decision in having my IUD removed.

there are bruises on my body from where my son pummels into me as though he’s a friggin running back for the NFL. there are scratches from where he’s broken my skin while clawing at my face because he doesn’t want to go down for a nap. my iphone is THIS CLOSE to being entirely busted and the screen of my macbook has more footprints on it than i can count. there are pinch marks, slaps and the very rare teeth mark on my arms from when he chooses to bite me because i have not given him fruit snacks for breakfast…

or a popsicle.

FOR BREAKFAST.

today, i want to give up.

there, i said it.

i’ve done the dishes, taken care of jackson, read to jackson, played with jackson, fed him breakfast and lunch, changed however many diapers (i really need to get on the potty-training train b/c we go thru too many damn diapers), swiffered up an amount of dog hair that makes me gag, run errands b/c jackson was driving me crazy and i figured the next best thing would be to literally drive in the hopes of calming down his crazy… and i’ve done 2 loads of laundry.

it’s 1:13 pm.

my nemesis is currently down for a nap but has been sleeping for MAYBE an hour + which is NOT typical for him and i’m selfish ya’ll.

I NEED THOSE 2 HOURS.

i need them so that i can endure the remainder of the day… the whining, the pouting, the unsatisfactory groans he spews my way when i think he’s asking for one toy when he really wants something entirely different… the fighting to get him to eat SOMETHING that perhaps contains a bit of protein.

when i began today, my mantra was “just make it to wednesday…”

because wednesday i road trip it to NYC with some blog friends to meet up with another blog friend to go to a taping of the daily show with jon stewart.

and yeah, i’m stoked about the trip, which is why my mantra this morning was, “just make it to wednesday…”

but i gotta be honest, right now, my mantra is “just make it til daddy comes home from work.”

and as sick and twisted as it sounds, i have caught myself at times today, with a sly, devilish grin on my face when i think of what paul’s day will be like on wednesday.

jackson… JACKSON for the day… the WHOLE day… morning til whenever i get back… just him and the maniac magoo and laundry and tantrums and dog hair and dishes and dinner on the table when i return…

IF i return.

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bring on the RANTS. give me your best bitching & let’s bond over this bullshit.

for the last 5 days, each phone conversation that i have had with my husband has begun as such…

“hey,” i say. jackson screeching in the background as my mom and dad whisk him away so i can focus.

((((long pause))))

“i still don’t know anything,” are the first words out of his mouth.

and those 5 words NEED to be said immediately after i have answered the phone in order for him and i to attempt to carry on any sort of “normal” conversation beyond the not knowing… beyond the obvious ugly.

once that has been established, some questions are asked from my end… questions that i cannot share here but wish i could.

he and i attempt to discuss other things. talk about jackson. ask about our families.

we continue to duck and run, bob and weave, dodging what we dread so very much… being separated for a VERY long time, with him being called away to a place that keeps me awake with nightmares in the earliest hours of the morning.

i have these conversations with myself during those wee hours of the morning when i wake up startled and scared.

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we dodged the bullet this morning. he was not chosen to leave at this moment in time.

i’m grateful. i’m relieved. i’m breathing at a steady pace.

but i’m still frightened.

this looming THING that we have been spared from for the second time in just a couple of months still looms.

it arrives with full force, announcing its presence with a thunderous roar.

and you wait.

and wait.

you duck. cower. look left and right. weigh your options.

you bob and weave.

and then what was this all-consuming THING vanishes in an instant. as quickly as the snap of a finger. and you are told that you are spared.

today we were spared.

but someone else was not.

someone with a family. someone’s husband. someone’s daddy. someone’s brother. someone’s son.

and so it goes…

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THANK YOU from the depths of my soul for all of the encouragement and support you have provided me with since my last post that i was not even given the ok to publish until yesterday. i have the greatest readers on the face of the planet. you are all gold, and i hope you know that i truly am grateful for each one of you. you allow me to be me in my space. accepting me at face value. and at the end of the day, that’s all i could possibly ask for.

class dismissed.