Thursday, October 25, 2012

One For The Sisters

So tonight I write to you...very exhausted. Very depleted of energy and really just emptied of giving much at all. And that blows major ass because, I love giving. Giving though, admittedly does tend to cause some emptiness sometimes. We're told that you have to be one of those types, you know--that are "aware" and "insightful" of these things...Except that it actually has more to do with having the resources to do something about being drained and needing fuel, than actually just realizing it. Husband is a psychotherapist. He realizes a whole hell of a lot...Similarly, I'm a parent so, I know every emotion that comes and goes in this home.

We are the air traffic controllers of emotion in this home.

(But even those guys get to take the helicopters down for the night.
...Where's my fricken 30 minute break??...Hell, I start SMOKING so I can have one*...)

Gaa! I'm so tired, I'm getting off topic, ruining my own profoundness...If there was any to be had. My point is, what do we do when we realize we're lacking and needy? I think there is a certain amount of peace that comes with this acceptance, that you're drained, and suddenly it's okay that it is so. I wanna say all those right things like, "Take breaks! Go on dates! Get a sitter! Take YOU-time!" because those things are true and necessary, and worth fighting for. But...sometimes, you're too tired to even fight for that because...life is beautiful but life can also be...hard.  

I've been given some beautiful opportunities to learn with great humility, that sometimes, you can't have not only what you want but what you need. I later came to find out, what I thought I needed, I really didn't. Because the thing I really needed in those dire situations wasn't a thing, it was trust and blind faith. And I'm talking, bare-bones here, that I was asking for, like food, education, a friend, or just even a nursing bra for crying out loud. I remember specifically not less than a year ago, being so very pregnant and to tired to function. I prayed in a way that I do when I'm feel hopeless...it's in a way that there are no words or even thoughts, just all of my heart poured out, bleeding there for Him to feel. "Hope through others...Hope through others." That wasn't comforting at first. "That's fantastic," I thought, "rely on people; us people who can't commit to anything." How wrong I was to doubt love of others! It was through others that our family was fed, my kids had care at times, and I had goods from the store for even my hospital stay. Though it might have been less than I could have imagined in times before such hardship, having this help when we did was like cool heavenly rain after a drought. Such abundance...God knew what we needed, even when we didn't.

I say the same for tonight.

I have had the utter blessing of having one of those conversations with someone you love that you don't think you want, don't expect to have, and then can't believe your blessings when you do. I didn't know I was feeling so lonely and down about not knowing where I'm supposed to be, how to be the best mom when kids are demanding and there's sick, sick, sick people out there trying to KILL our kids, how to be the "best me", or WHY THE HELL there's never any EFFING parking spaces in the KINDERGARTEN line...It's KINDERGARTEN! ... I didn't realize I have felt really emotionally beat up by this stay at home job I'm told is Rewarding and Priceless. And I certainly didn't realize, all the good things I am (allegedly) doing.
I gotta tell ya, I don't like false compliments; I don't like such flattery because it's not authentic, and I can tell when a woman flatters me to foster her own insecurities. I also don't like knowing when I've made other women uncomfortable because they are surprised that I have talents or maybe something they don't. It's a weird thing to not like, but I know that feeling...For some reason, I apparently don't "look" like someone you'd expect certain talents from...like singing, dancing, writing, and being creative are not for short, Hispanic, obnoxious chubbsters or something...? So I tend to make women uncomfortable when I turn out to be this honest, loud, really relentless little tamale. Anyway, let it be said, compliments make me uncomfortable because usually, they are not really all that genuine or thought-out. Until tonight, I didn't realize how desperately, what I actually needed was to just be loved by someone real, who really knows my heart. (Yes of COURSE Husband loves me and knows my heart...but God gave us sister-hood for a reason.)

My sister (we'll call her Sister Smarty Pants) ...is awesome. We've been through...a lot together let's just say. She is one of THE most real, most genuine, and most willingly honest people I know...in the world. We don't necessarily see eye to eye all the time because...we're both pretty opinionated but...there is a love and respect that could only be grown from a lot of loving toil. Tonight, she asked if I was okay. I said, I thought I was okay but then, realized (ding-ding-ding the magic word of this post...not by my choice! I hate that word right now but I'll use my exclamation rule to make it more positive...!) I am strugglin'. I edited a lot because, it's Sister-Private but the following, I will share, Sister Smarty Pants had this to say:


Your kids see you as a never ending fountain of gifts and capability. unfortunately, they are entitled and selfish because they're babies, but that's mendable.
You've built for them in 5 years what we never had in 20 years of parenting from mom and dad (and they were young and we forgive them, but it's true).
I just wish you could see how wonderful you are,

especially to them.

I think once you realize what you do right, the things that you need to work on will have the ability to fall into place.
It's hard to find things that work
but your kids are beautiful and wonderful even when they are little shits.
You're a wonderful mother.
You always were, even to me. And you are beautiful. Your advice is loving and thoughtful. You really want to KNOW the people in your life.
I will always need you.
You deserve to hear these things... all of them because they're true.
    Just stop being so hard on yourself. You don't have to be perfect to be amazing. You are amazing. You do so many things with more love, devotion, and true grace than you realize. You're a great person, a beautiful woman with so much to offer the world. The only thing stopping you is not believing you deserve it.
    So I'm telling you. You deserve wonderful things in your life. You deserve loving, smart, capable, available friends. You deserve love and respect. You have beautiful, smart, mind blowing things to say. You are wise and photogenic and have lovely hair.

    • I never have to wonder whether or not you will always be in my life or not. I never have. Thank you for that. I never realized how many people don't have that. Thank you...

    I share these things because you see, I never would have asked for those things, nor would have thought I needed to hear them, or even that I could believe them but not for God knowing me so much better than myself, and sending me my Sister Smarty Pants to shower me with love and honesty that I can't reject.

    Thank you, Father, for real love. I'm not sure why I get to have some of it, but may I never cease to take it for granted.

    If you don't have a Sister, don't feel badly; just go get one. You can't afford not to have one, I tell you. I mean it--if you think you're in danger of missing this opportunity, turn to the next woman on your right, and give her a giant hug, Happy Snappy (which is a sisterly ass-slap), or buy her a drink first. Then, it won't be so weird. God doesn't give all of us "natural" sisters, but seeing as how there are more women in the world, and we live longer, He sure as heck gave us opportunity to grow some in our hearts! Go! Get a Sista! It's your homework.

    *I would do anything for love...but I won't do that lol...I would do A LOT of really crazy things to get a break but smoking's not one...Though climbing atop my roof with a giant jug of Cuervo even in a snow storm, is not off the docket...



Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Well, here I am. I made it through the day...And truthfully, somewhere between picking up or dropping off a kid and having to wake the baby for the third time or something like that, I really wondered what I'd look at the end of the day...if I'd made it.
                                                     *                  *                  *
(I just checked to see what I look like...It's not pretty but also not as super bad as I thought it might be. For example: Damnage*: I think my hormones changed (again) an hour ago and now I practically have a mustachio and eyebrows similar to that of Frita Kahlo's.



Consolation: my skin looks great. Damnage: my hair didn't get blow-dryed and it's cold, so it frizzed out. Majorly. Like the wig that Normal Bates used to put on to pretend to be his mom in Psycho. I'm not posting any pictures; it just simply hits too darn close to home. Google your own darn pictures of her wig and laugh all you want. I'm preserving the little dignity I can, here. Consolation: Um...My hair was...washed (emphatic nodding) and...I used...sulfate free shampoo...That smells really good...?

You know, I'm going to stop pretending: I finally have some time to myself and I hate to say it, but nothing truly eventful happened in this day. Now I'm hearing  in my head all those Miracle Mouths being all, "What?! But every DAY is a miracle!" Yes; that's true. I also believe that every Mass is Heaven on Earth but there is also life-reality in that because, thinking of every single thing so profoundly has to be funny at some point (at least in my life). And speaking of THAT, this makes me think that almost every time we are at Mass, it is always MY kids that are walking out of the bathroom completely naked saying, "Come and CLEAN MY TUSHIEEEE!!" Or it's MY kids that are throwing tantrums so big, I've already been asked not thrice but FOUR times if my son has seizures...Or why my second son (Faux-Seizure-Child) has to shake his head emphatically, psychotically in back and forth, right after Communion. (NO, he does not have seizures or is autistic so stop even thinking to ask.) He's just crazy is all. Plus, he's seriously jiggling his brains around when he does this, so I'm guessing he's slushing things around in there too *shrug*. So mostly, my day was normal like that, and probably not much different to yours then.

Mostly right now, I'm just...grateful. Grateful for being married to this devoted man; grateful to have a roof over our heads that heats the people in it; grateful for the snow...Yes, even the snow. It's funny because, the snow stresses me out. It means that I'll be dressing kids for half and hour, just to send them outside for five minutes. It means mud in the house. It means kids crying in shock and horror that they can't understand why they can't feel their hands and fingers when they've been eating snow with them. It means it's pointless to shave my legs because I'll just keep getting goose bumps and the hair'll grow back right then and there. It means...more work. And yet, it's just so...beautiful. I'm grateful for its beauty and that we are given something so beautiful just because we live here. I love that it falls so silently and yet fills up sometimes feet, of space. Kind of like, proof that beautiful things grow even in silence. (Like Love and Truth and also, people.) Ugly things can too (like zits in baaad places or mean people's thoughts), but this kind of silent beauty overpowers all the bad kind.

And this part I have to whisper, I'm also *procrastinating*...It's just that...It's so far from here to the sink to brush my teeth...and then my face will get wet and I'll be cold. Then that'll force me into washing my face and thinking of all of that makes me tired. (God, I'm lazy.) The other ugly truth is, I'm writing to all of you, to *distract myself* (more secret whispering! I'm just FULL of mystery tonight!) from eating frozen yogurt. Yup. I have a problem. It's called, I-Eat-My-Emotions. And by that, I mean my emotions are like the love-child of Joan Rivers and Richard Simmons. First of all, eww, and second of all, that's pretty accurate. This isn't like, when those "people" say, "Oh, I SUCK at Math!" and then proceed to explain the concept of imaginary numbers to me. Or those women that say, "I'm baaad with self-discipline" but then can cut themselves off and are like feigning, "I'm SO full!" This is like, I have to trick myself into thinking I'm full because dudes, I could seriously eat myself into a coma. I've conquered it before, and I'll get there again. It's all about discipline, and mentality, and all that jazz. It's always about hitting that "rock bottom" where suddenly things don't fit and you've walked by a mirror and have about had a heart attack because you thought a fat man was hiding in the bathroom and chasing you instead of a reflection...Not that that's...ever happened to me...And then it's time to do something. I hate to say it, but pregnancy totally messes with us Overeaters, as does nursing. It's not all, "Oh wow! Now I"m burning extra calories, losing weight, and feeling great!" Instead it's like, "SUHWEET! Now I can eat FIVE HUNDRED more calories mwamwamwahaha!" *insert maniacal fat-man voice laughter*.  I tell you, these past few years have been a seriously humble walk and it's hard to realize I've completely lost my figure. But...I think that while I struggle a lot with this issue right now, I really know I'll overcome it. It won't necessarily be easier but for sure, it'll get better (see how I connected the two...posts?...No??...Oh... (And by the way...I know frozen yogurt isn't all that unhealthy...it's not that. It's the STUFF I want to put ON the frozen yogurt...You know, like bananas and pistachios...and fudge and chocolate chips...Yeah. I have to stop typing about it. DRINK WATER, NOW, Nicole. NOW.)

Alright alright...let's talk about..."Mom's Groups." I'm terrified of them. They too, stress me out. I'm joining one tomorrow and I feel like it will look like this:


And I'll look like this:


And my kids will be like this:


It could happen. It might happen. The worst part is, the preparation. I'm trying to talk myself into washing myself an outfit for tomorrow so I can look "normal" instead of, you know, wearing granny-capris and a t-shirt but then the rebel in me says, "You shouldn't have to wash a fancy outfit to feel you fit in!" But then the logical part of me is like, "Reality check: Self, if I didn't have to be you, I'd be embarrassed by your schlubiness**. WEAR a cute damn outfit." Okay, okay. I'll wash one. But...there's spiders in the basement...where the washer and dryer are...FINE. I'll go but, if I get caught in a web by Creepo and his Minions, it's alll on YOU, my friends. 

Lastly, I just want to end this by sharing with you all that, when you search for pictures under, "kids misbehaving", you get this:


Apparently, my sound was turned way up and also apparently, when you go the the national geographic-type website, there's actual elephant sounds you can hear while they're uh...pro-creating. It was so loud it woke up Husband. He looked all around frantically (as if there was some burglar breaking through the window, trumpeting like a humping elephant) and slurred, "Wawawahaat's going on?!?" I turned it down quickly and said, "Oh honey, it's just two elephants humpin' it up. Go back to bed." He looked right at me with his not-really-awake-eyes and nodded and said, "Wow. They were reeeeally doin', it huh?" and went right back to snoring. Nice. And with that, I bid you adieu! 
Love, Hugs, & Other (healthy) Drugs...you know, like VITAMINS.

*Damnage: yes; I meant it as "damn-age" get it? See? I really can be funny but though it was just NOT funny and that I couldn't spell.
**Schlubiness: derives from "schlub" which is a made-up word from my husband or possibly his East Coast family meaning slobby in the worst way. I, am often a Schlub.