I'm not only coming from an economical standpoint either. Of course in this economy most people who have a job are thankful for it... This is about how much I enjoy coming to work. I realize that I was blessed with the opportunity to stay home with my four kids for 12 years, but I thank God on a regular basis that I have a job now. I love the schedule. I love the responsibility. I love the security of earning my own pay check. I love getting to spend time with grown up people. Working with my family is fun!
The last couple years I was home I used to joke with Ethel that I was going to light my hair on fire and run up and down my road just for something new to do. Your house can only get so clean... you can only attend so many PTA functions. You can only watch so much home decorating television. At least that was the case for me. I loved the time I could spend with my kids - hell it was even worth being married to that ass of an X I had to dedicate those years to my kids. And I'll be honest, I really do feel like I was good at it.
I managed a large house hold pretty damn well. I participated in my kid's schools, and we had a lot of fun!
However I'll can't see myself ever willingly going back to being a stay at home mom. Even if BLT and I got married and he earned the kind of money that made it possible. I don't want to be financially dependant on anyone ever again. I don't want to give up the social interaction, the mental stimulation, and the pleasant routine that going to work each day provides.
It's a balancing act of course. Learning to work full time and keep my house up to the standards I'm comfortable with was a learning experience. But in a good way I think. Moving to the tiny town we live in certainly has helped. There aren't a lot of the distractions available to us that some people probably deal with. We cook our meals at home because it's less expensive, but also because we have extremely limited options near us. We use Netflix and watch movies together at home, we walk to the library, or the store, or to friends houses because we have that option and we enjoy spending time together. All that time at home means we make doing chores a routine.
It's about priorities too. I want a career AND a nice house to live in, and I feel like I've gotten that for myself. I feel really settled and blessed in that regard. Life is good. You can't ask for much more than that!
Okay... I regularly ask for a tree to fall on my X... but other than THAT I have what I need!
Friday, October 28, 2011
Thursday, October 27, 2011
God I can be a judgemental ass sometimes
I have a confession to make. I can really be a judgemental jackass sometimes. I don't mean to, and when I catch myself doing it I try to step back and look at my judgements/assumptions/feelings more critically and kindly. Sometimes I fail though... it's a flaw I'm working on.
Case in point. TNT has made a friend I'll call Baby. Baby and her younger sister seem quite nice, very pleasant kids and they've been over before for play dates. TNT and Monkey Pants have been to their house for play dates. I've met Baby's mom on several occasions- and here the judgemental part of me rears it's ugly head.
See Baby's mom has facial piercings, crazy, perpetually disheveled hair, and neck tattoos. I have no moral objection to any of these things - but I admit the pierced tongue, eyebrow, and lip really creep me out, I just REALLY dislike facial piercings. *shudder* The whole package just screams to me, "I MAKE BAD CHOICES!" Baby's mom is very pleasant though.... she seems friendly and is kind to my kids. But she gives off haphazard party girl vibe that makes me leery....
Last time I dropped her girls off at her house there was a big ol' Vodka bottle propping up the garage door. Okay....my first thought... "lush". Not nice, I know I know. I backtracked and had a little talking to with myself, "hey listen, I have no idea how long they had that bottle, if it was a gift, or from a big celebration. Don't be so quick to judge. I have no proof she drinks too much!"
On another occasion TNT was invited to stay for dinner, and when I picked her up she mentioned casually that they had noodles. "oh Spaghetti, or Lasagna or something like that?" I ask. "No, just noodles and salt, sometimes at the end of the month they don't have much food in their house." Certainly not a crime, we struggle here too, to be honest, and frequently we resort to inexpensive dinners once a week of scrambled eggs and toast, or soup and biscuits. But the last time I was over there they had a brand new flat screen TV on the wall... do you hear the judgemental voice I'm trying to control? I really am trying. It's not my business how they spend their money, but Vodka and TV's seem odd choices if you're eating plain noodles - know what I mean?
So I've promised myself that I'm going to continue to be polite, and the kids like each other so there is no reason why they can't play together. However if money is that tight I can't let my kids eat over at her house.... they need to use their resources for their own three kids. That's only fair and right. I won't make a big deal about it, I'll just make sure if she's invited that we have something else we have to do. That way nobody has any hurt feelings.
In an effort to help out a little I am taking a winter coat over that my 12 year old out grew. It's too big for TNT, and Baby is much taller and broader - so while it's going to be a size or two too big I think she'll be able to use it. It's a very good quality coat.
I am going to refuse to let my inner cynic convince me that there is something wrong here unless or until I have all the facts. I mean, I know I'm making judgements based on appearances, and on only having a small amount of interaction with this family. That's growth right? Being aware of my own short coming and acting differently?
Growth... I'm working on it....
Case in point. TNT has made a friend I'll call Baby. Baby and her younger sister seem quite nice, very pleasant kids and they've been over before for play dates. TNT and Monkey Pants have been to their house for play dates. I've met Baby's mom on several occasions- and here the judgemental part of me rears it's ugly head.
See Baby's mom has facial piercings, crazy, perpetually disheveled hair, and neck tattoos. I have no moral objection to any of these things - but I admit the pierced tongue, eyebrow, and lip really creep me out, I just REALLY dislike facial piercings. *shudder* The whole package just screams to me, "I MAKE BAD CHOICES!" Baby's mom is very pleasant though.... she seems friendly and is kind to my kids. But she gives off haphazard party girl vibe that makes me leery....
Last time I dropped her girls off at her house there was a big ol' Vodka bottle propping up the garage door. Okay....my first thought... "lush". Not nice, I know I know. I backtracked and had a little talking to with myself, "hey listen, I have no idea how long they had that bottle, if it was a gift, or from a big celebration. Don't be so quick to judge. I have no proof she drinks too much!"
On another occasion TNT was invited to stay for dinner, and when I picked her up she mentioned casually that they had noodles. "oh Spaghetti, or Lasagna or something like that?" I ask. "No, just noodles and salt, sometimes at the end of the month they don't have much food in their house." Certainly not a crime, we struggle here too, to be honest, and frequently we resort to inexpensive dinners once a week of scrambled eggs and toast, or soup and biscuits. But the last time I was over there they had a brand new flat screen TV on the wall... do you hear the judgemental voice I'm trying to control? I really am trying. It's not my business how they spend their money, but Vodka and TV's seem odd choices if you're eating plain noodles - know what I mean?
So I've promised myself that I'm going to continue to be polite, and the kids like each other so there is no reason why they can't play together. However if money is that tight I can't let my kids eat over at her house.... they need to use their resources for their own three kids. That's only fair and right. I won't make a big deal about it, I'll just make sure if she's invited that we have something else we have to do. That way nobody has any hurt feelings.
In an effort to help out a little I am taking a winter coat over that my 12 year old out grew. It's too big for TNT, and Baby is much taller and broader - so while it's going to be a size or two too big I think she'll be able to use it. It's a very good quality coat.
I am going to refuse to let my inner cynic convince me that there is something wrong here unless or until I have all the facts. I mean, I know I'm making judgements based on appearances, and on only having a small amount of interaction with this family. That's growth right? Being aware of my own short coming and acting differently?
Growth... I'm working on it....
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Protests, Pre-teens, and Permission Slips
Just a few random thoughts for today...
1. I don't really have a desire to discuss politics here, but I will share that after Therapy on Tuesday night Chef and I passed three lonely little Protesters outside a tiny branch of US Bank in a residential neighborhood. One was clearly drunk, one was looking bored, and one was yelling angry Anti-Wall Street rhetoric. My 14 year old asks why they were there. We had a brief discussion about the issues at hand and protesting in general. Chef, in the very matter of fact way she sees the world says, "So somehow drinking in front of a closed bank at nine o'clock at night is going to get you a job? What is wrong with people... go home... Oh, and why was his sign so ugly? I mean, he obviously has time on his hands. Couldn't he make a nicer sign?"
I guess when you're 14 the aesthetics of your message are as important as the message itself, *giggle* and she does have a bit of a point. Manning a protest of three (well really 2 and a half since the one dude was so obviously more interested in whatever was in the brown paper bottle he was swiggin' than the injustices of the world) outside a teeny tiny bank in the middle of nowhere isn't going to accomplish much.
2. I got a call at work today. It was a cacophony of screaming and squealing. See... Thing 1 had hidden a book from Thing 2. Thing 2 wanted said book, as well as to raid Thing 1's herb supply. Why? Well obviously is was because Thing 2 intended to perform some kind of magical spell... ??.... confused? Yes I was too. Thing 1 apparently tackled Thing 2 during the whole bizarre exchange and embarrassed Thing 2 in front of a friend.
My answer... "Are you on fire? No... okay. Are you being abducted? No... well that's good. Now go do your homework. Stay out of the freaking Oregano, clean your room, and when that's done you can log onto Netflix and find some movie with teen aged vampires sucking on each other. Don't call me back unless it's an actual emergency. LOOOOOVE YOU!!!"
3. Can someone explain to me why my four kids wait until I'm leaving for work to all bombard me with papers to sign? I ask the night before. I swear I do, and nobody needs me for anything. But by the light of day - and at the point that my car is started and I've got one foot out the door - suddenly everyone need a permission slip to go to the petting zoo, their reading log signed, or a note to excuse them from swimming because my teen aged daughter is under the impression that tampons are the work of the devil.
Some days I just wonder if I'm the only one with a life like this....
1. I don't really have a desire to discuss politics here, but I will share that after Therapy on Tuesday night Chef and I passed three lonely little Protesters outside a tiny branch of US Bank in a residential neighborhood. One was clearly drunk, one was looking bored, and one was yelling angry Anti-Wall Street rhetoric. My 14 year old asks why they were there. We had a brief discussion about the issues at hand and protesting in general. Chef, in the very matter of fact way she sees the world says, "So somehow drinking in front of a closed bank at nine o'clock at night is going to get you a job? What is wrong with people... go home... Oh, and why was his sign so ugly? I mean, he obviously has time on his hands. Couldn't he make a nicer sign?"
I guess when you're 14 the aesthetics of your message are as important as the message itself, *giggle* and she does have a bit of a point. Manning a protest of three (well really 2 and a half since the one dude was so obviously more interested in whatever was in the brown paper bottle he was swiggin' than the injustices of the world) outside a teeny tiny bank in the middle of nowhere isn't going to accomplish much.
2. I got a call at work today. It was a cacophony of screaming and squealing. See... Thing 1 had hidden a book from Thing 2. Thing 2 wanted said book, as well as to raid Thing 1's herb supply. Why? Well obviously is was because Thing 2 intended to perform some kind of magical spell... ??.... confused? Yes I was too. Thing 1 apparently tackled Thing 2 during the whole bizarre exchange and embarrassed Thing 2 in front of a friend.
My answer... "Are you on fire? No... okay. Are you being abducted? No... well that's good. Now go do your homework. Stay out of the freaking Oregano, clean your room, and when that's done you can log onto Netflix and find some movie with teen aged vampires sucking on each other. Don't call me back unless it's an actual emergency. LOOOOOVE YOU!!!"
3. Can someone explain to me why my four kids wait until I'm leaving for work to all bombard me with papers to sign? I ask the night before. I swear I do, and nobody needs me for anything. But by the light of day - and at the point that my car is started and I've got one foot out the door - suddenly everyone need a permission slip to go to the petting zoo, their reading log signed, or a note to excuse them from swimming because my teen aged daughter is under the impression that tampons are the work of the devil.
Some days I just wonder if I'm the only one with a life like this....
Saturday, October 22, 2011
Just one more time?
No... Yes... NO... YES... *sigh*
I have a horrible case of baby fever. I know that I won't have any more kids, but I swear my ovaries quiver every time a friend shows off their newest baby dressed like a Lima bean or a sock monkey for Halloween.
Just passing the layette section in Target makes me all wistful. I've played the "What would BLT and my baby look like?" game in my head. I ask myself, what would it be like to have the father if my newborn actually want to hold their child, or bathe their baby...or just be there in the delivery room and not be a useless sack of distraction?
It doesn't help that a friend just announced she's pregnant. I thought my social group had passed the age of baby showers and birth stories, but here two of my friends are expecting and another two have children under the age if one.
Inside my head I hear a voice say; "See I'm not too old. 37 year olds have babies all the time!"
Then I hear; "Jackass, you're not married, you're broke, you have 5 kids between the two of you to raise, you're broke, you have a psychotic ex husband trying to take your kids, you work 50+ hours a week to support yourself, you are too old, and did I mention....YOU ARE BROKE!"
So I accept all over again that my baby days are done. No more tiny fingers wrapped around my pinky, no more nursing baby at my breast, no more tiny cloth diapers.
Then some excited friend shows off their newest set of Little Timmy Learned To Eat His Toes photos... I swear to god I'm going to have to close down my Facebook account until this passes.
I have a horrible case of baby fever. I know that I won't have any more kids, but I swear my ovaries quiver every time a friend shows off their newest baby dressed like a Lima bean or a sock monkey for Halloween.
Just passing the layette section in Target makes me all wistful. I've played the "What would BLT and my baby look like?" game in my head. I ask myself, what would it be like to have the father if my newborn actually want to hold their child, or bathe their baby...or just be there in the delivery room and not be a useless sack of distraction?
It doesn't help that a friend just announced she's pregnant. I thought my social group had passed the age of baby showers and birth stories, but here two of my friends are expecting and another two have children under the age if one.
Inside my head I hear a voice say; "See I'm not too old. 37 year olds have babies all the time!"
Then I hear; "Jackass, you're not married, you're broke, you have 5 kids between the two of you to raise, you're broke, you have a psychotic ex husband trying to take your kids, you work 50+ hours a week to support yourself, you are too old, and did I mention....YOU ARE BROKE!"
So I accept all over again that my baby days are done. No more tiny fingers wrapped around my pinky, no more nursing baby at my breast, no more tiny cloth diapers.
Then some excited friend shows off their newest set of Little Timmy Learned To Eat His Toes photos... I swear to god I'm going to have to close down my Facebook account until this passes.
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Getting out of my own head.
I saw a quote today that said something about not being able to move onto the next chapter in your life if you are constantly re-reading the previous chapter. It was worded all eloquently of course, and I just butchered it I'm sure, but you get the idea.
This really spoke to me today. I'm dealing with more legal issues relating to my X, the GAL contacted me and I'm finishing up some parenting questionnaires, and I had to give a fairly detailed listing of the ways I believe I was abused during my 14 Year marriage.
There's nothing like seeing all the ways you've been treated like crap (in chronological order no less so you can ask yourself over and over, "why the hell didn't I leave then? Or then? Or THEN?" to really make a girl feel good about herself. The result of dredging up all these bad memories was a massive, midnight panic attack.
I was in that sleepy place in between being asleep and fully awake. I must have been dreaming or remembering the really bad times because suddenly I couldn't breath... I shot up and was gasping for breath and shaking all over.
I had so much adrenaline rushing through me I felt like my skin was crawling. Poor BLT was rudely woken from a sound sleep as well with all my gasping and thrashing around.
I need to find a way out of this mess inside my head. It's not fair to BLT or the kids for me to waste all this energy on an abusive POS like my X. I owe myself better than this ugliness I can't shake, and I know I've worked too hard to let him have this kind of control and influence on me. I know all this... So why am I stuck in this "chapter"?
I honestly think its because I keep getting drug back to that time when things were so bad by all these legal manipulations on the part of my X. It's not bad enough to be victimized once, you have to keep reliving the worst night of your life over and over. Every statement to the police, the lawyers, each court declaration and to the GAL. Each time I have to renew our restraining orders and justify why I am still afraid of him, or meet with a therapist, and even the questions from curious friends and family feels like you're picking at a barely healed scab.
I guess I will have to be more patient. I think I'm going to have to keep fighting through all this anxiety until we are done with some of the legal fallout. I need to focus on the light at the end of the proverbial tunnel... All of this has to wind down at some point right?
This really spoke to me today. I'm dealing with more legal issues relating to my X, the GAL contacted me and I'm finishing up some parenting questionnaires, and I had to give a fairly detailed listing of the ways I believe I was abused during my 14 Year marriage.
There's nothing like seeing all the ways you've been treated like crap (in chronological order no less so you can ask yourself over and over, "why the hell didn't I leave then? Or then? Or THEN?" to really make a girl feel good about herself. The result of dredging up all these bad memories was a massive, midnight panic attack.
I was in that sleepy place in between being asleep and fully awake. I must have been dreaming or remembering the really bad times because suddenly I couldn't breath... I shot up and was gasping for breath and shaking all over.
I had so much adrenaline rushing through me I felt like my skin was crawling. Poor BLT was rudely woken from a sound sleep as well with all my gasping and thrashing around.
I need to find a way out of this mess inside my head. It's not fair to BLT or the kids for me to waste all this energy on an abusive POS like my X. I owe myself better than this ugliness I can't shake, and I know I've worked too hard to let him have this kind of control and influence on me. I know all this... So why am I stuck in this "chapter"?
I honestly think its because I keep getting drug back to that time when things were so bad by all these legal manipulations on the part of my X. It's not bad enough to be victimized once, you have to keep reliving the worst night of your life over and over. Every statement to the police, the lawyers, each court declaration and to the GAL. Each time I have to renew our restraining orders and justify why I am still afraid of him, or meet with a therapist, and even the questions from curious friends and family feels like you're picking at a barely healed scab.
I guess I will have to be more patient. I think I'm going to have to keep fighting through all this anxiety until we are done with some of the legal fallout. I need to focus on the light at the end of the proverbial tunnel... All of this has to wind down at some point right?
Monday, October 10, 2011
Too Heavy to Carry, Too Heavy to Put Down...
I'm really struggling right now. I'm exhausted emotionally, financially depleted, and sick with worry and anxiety.
My lawyer sent a letter on Friday stating that she will drop my case if I don't get $7800.00 to her by the end of the month. Where am I supposed to get that kind of cash?
My X has made it clear that he intends to litigate to the fullest extent possible - he doesn't care if it screws over the kids, just as long as I suffer in the process. My current council does not want to keep accepting small payments, she wants payment in full for past services and an additional 2K as a new retainer.
If I loose legal representation I'll get screwed royally in court. His dirty lawyer has tried so many sneaky, shady maneuvers that my lawyer caught and deflected. Things I would have no idea how to handle. I can't face them alone in court and my X is determined to get out of Child Support and gain custody of my kids.
I can't sleep, haven't eaten much since Friday, and I have constant nausea. Ethel summed it up perfectly; "your burden is too heavy to carry, and too heavy to put down".
This is my kid's safety at stake... My financial future is already destroyed. The only thing I'll fight with him over are my children and I'm goin' down swingin'!!
My lawyer sent a letter on Friday stating that she will drop my case if I don't get $7800.00 to her by the end of the month. Where am I supposed to get that kind of cash?
My X has made it clear that he intends to litigate to the fullest extent possible - he doesn't care if it screws over the kids, just as long as I suffer in the process. My current council does not want to keep accepting small payments, she wants payment in full for past services and an additional 2K as a new retainer.
If I loose legal representation I'll get screwed royally in court. His dirty lawyer has tried so many sneaky, shady maneuvers that my lawyer caught and deflected. Things I would have no idea how to handle. I can't face them alone in court and my X is determined to get out of Child Support and gain custody of my kids.
I can't sleep, haven't eaten much since Friday, and I have constant nausea. Ethel summed it up perfectly; "your burden is too heavy to carry, and too heavy to put down".
This is my kid's safety at stake... My financial future is already destroyed. The only thing I'll fight with him over are my children and I'm goin' down swingin'!!
Saturday, October 8, 2011
I like me
For the most part I like myself... Not all my physical "parts" so much, but who I am as a whole.
I really like my nails though... They grow so nicely! Don't they look purdy?
I'll just have to keep working on accepting the rest of me.
I really like my nails though... They grow so nicely! Don't they look purdy?
I'll just have to keep working on accepting the rest of me.
Whore-a-Ween Strikes Again!
I both love and hate this time of year. Halloween is my favorite holiday, but the older my kids get the more stressful it is to shop for Halloween costumes.
The girls costumes that will fit my kids are... hmmm... shall we say it bluntly? WHOREISH! For the love of God people, we live in the Pacific Northwest. In October it's freaking cold as a well digger's ass. Not to mention I simply refuse to send my kids out dressed as: Sexy Kitty, Sexy Witch, Naughty Nurse... or the generic slut costume du jour "Miss Behavin'" *gag*
It's always a fight. The girls see something that appeals to them and I get to be the bad guy. Especially with Lady Bug. That girl is sweet, and I adore her, but her tact and taste level are still in the development stage if you get what I'm saying?!
When did Halloween become about wearing plunging necklines and micro mini skirts with fish net hosiery? And why the hell does every single costume come with fish net pantyhose anyway? What about "Angel", "Cheerleader", "Ghost", or "Fairy" dictates hooker-esque leg wear?
YIKES... this momma can't take much more.... I'm getting some sheets and they all get to be Casper the Friendly Ghost whether they like it or not! Anyone got a spare Burkah or two they want to loan me?
The girls costumes that will fit my kids are... hmmm... shall we say it bluntly? WHOREISH! For the love of God people, we live in the Pacific Northwest. In October it's freaking cold as a well digger's ass. Not to mention I simply refuse to send my kids out dressed as: Sexy Kitty, Sexy Witch, Naughty Nurse... or the generic slut costume du jour "Miss Behavin'" *gag*
It's always a fight. The girls see something that appeals to them and I get to be the bad guy. Especially with Lady Bug. That girl is sweet, and I adore her, but her tact and taste level are still in the development stage if you get what I'm saying?!
When did Halloween become about wearing plunging necklines and micro mini skirts with fish net hosiery? And why the hell does every single costume come with fish net pantyhose anyway? What about "Angel", "Cheerleader", "Ghost", or "Fairy" dictates hooker-esque leg wear?
YIKES... this momma can't take much more.... I'm getting some sheets and they all get to be Casper the Friendly Ghost whether they like it or not! Anyone got a spare Burkah or two they want to loan me?
Friday, October 7, 2011
Girl Time
Good lordy did I need some grown up time. With the help of some baby oil, a crow bar, and a prayer I wedged my ass into some leather pants and my cute red heels. I was feeling pretty damn good about myself actually.
I had such a great time with my girl friends. We hit a piano bar where the drinks and food were good...but the piano player/comedian act was not so hot. He's one of those older guys who isn't witty, isn't handsome, and isn't overly clever. He tried too hard. Plus - I just don't dig Neil Diamond. BLECH!
We left there and decided to partake of the fun at a local casino. Plenty of restaurants, dancing without any cover charge, several bars, a sweets shop, and some slot machines. All in all fun was ours for the taking!
That is of course until I got home all hot and sweaty from dancing and had to try and peel those pants off.... lol... not to mention the little blisters on my toes from my dancin' shoes! Ouch... but totally worth it :)
I had such a great time with my girl friends. We hit a piano bar where the drinks and food were good...but the piano player/comedian act was not so hot. He's one of those older guys who isn't witty, isn't handsome, and isn't overly clever. He tried too hard. Plus - I just don't dig Neil Diamond. BLECH!
We left there and decided to partake of the fun at a local casino. Plenty of restaurants, dancing without any cover charge, several bars, a sweets shop, and some slot machines. All in all fun was ours for the taking!
That is of course until I got home all hot and sweaty from dancing and had to try and peel those pants off.... lol... not to mention the little blisters on my toes from my dancin' shoes! Ouch... but totally worth it :)
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Living in the 1 %
I was talking to my mom today and she said, "Ever since X brought that gun to your house you live in the one percent." I had to think about it for a minute, but she's right. I go through life now expecting the rare, the unforeseen, the weird accidental mishap.
A situation recently came up where a friend was trying to work out what do with their kiddo(s) while they went out on a late date. The original idea was to leave the teen home alone. Most likely everything would be just fine. Realistically I understand this. However I started to worry. Then my mind went to all the "what ifs" that could happen. And being me, I had to say something. I just couldn't let it go.
What if there was a fire, not even at their place... but next door?
What if she had to be evacuated for a gas leak, or some other area disaster?
What if the dog got out and the kiddo had to try and chase her down when it was dark and a busy body neighbor saw, and then called the police to complain?
What if there was a prowler or someone decided to mess with the vehicle left there?
What if, after the fact the kid was sort of bragging to friends about getting to be home alone and a concerned parent decides to pass judgement and make trouble? Or if the child says something in ear shot of a teacher who does the same?
Two years ago I lived in the 99%... I always thought these things happen to other people. I never had encountered any kind of significant violence at the hands of someone I trusted. I hadn't ever really been surprised by someones choices and behavior. Then my estranged husband brought a gun to my house. He did something I would have never expected.
My mother, Ethel, and my sister in law were all telling me to get a restraining order. I heard, "most likely nothing will ever happen, but you need to be safe and cautious. You need to take care of yourself." I didn't listen.
The 1% chance that my X would lose it came to pass. And now, as a result, I find myself living in that one percent. I find myself going to worse case scenario. If I have a quarter of a tank of gas and I run into traffic I start to feel all panicked and convince myself that I'll run out of gas out of cell phone range.
If the dog throws up I start thinking it's going into liver failure. If I smell smoke I think fire... never burned popcorn....I understand why, I just don't know how to deal with it. I'm not proud of it. It's certainly not something I enjoy.
I see a self help book in my future...
A situation recently came up where a friend was trying to work out what do with their kiddo(s) while they went out on a late date. The original idea was to leave the teen home alone. Most likely everything would be just fine. Realistically I understand this. However I started to worry. Then my mind went to all the "what ifs" that could happen. And being me, I had to say something. I just couldn't let it go.
What if there was a fire, not even at their place... but next door?
What if she had to be evacuated for a gas leak, or some other area disaster?
What if the dog got out and the kiddo had to try and chase her down when it was dark and a busy body neighbor saw, and then called the police to complain?
What if there was a prowler or someone decided to mess with the vehicle left there?
What if, after the fact the kid was sort of bragging to friends about getting to be home alone and a concerned parent decides to pass judgement and make trouble? Or if the child says something in ear shot of a teacher who does the same?
Two years ago I lived in the 99%... I always thought these things happen to other people. I never had encountered any kind of significant violence at the hands of someone I trusted. I hadn't ever really been surprised by someones choices and behavior. Then my estranged husband brought a gun to my house. He did something I would have never expected.
My mother, Ethel, and my sister in law were all telling me to get a restraining order. I heard, "most likely nothing will ever happen, but you need to be safe and cautious. You need to take care of yourself." I didn't listen.
The 1% chance that my X would lose it came to pass. And now, as a result, I find myself living in that one percent. I find myself going to worse case scenario. If I have a quarter of a tank of gas and I run into traffic I start to feel all panicked and convince myself that I'll run out of gas out of cell phone range.
If the dog throws up I start thinking it's going into liver failure. If I smell smoke I think fire... never burned popcorn....I understand why, I just don't know how to deal with it. I'm not proud of it. It's certainly not something I enjoy.
I see a self help book in my future...
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Waiting for a call
I'm just sitting here waiting to hear from the Guardian Ad Lidem for my kids. Two weeks ago she sent my lawyer an email stating that she would contact me by email.
A week after that I had not heard from her, so I mailed in the first 1/2 of my payment due to her, and I included all my contact information, and thanked her for accepting our case.
It been another full week and as of yet I've not spoken to her. I know that she has all my contact information, and I imagine that when she wants to speak with me I'll hear from her. I don't want to seem anxious or pushy so I don't call. I don't want to appear as though I'm hiding something either - so I worry about not calling.
I am just not a patient person. This whole thing is making me nuts. I want a resolution, or at the very least a plan to work towards a resolution. It's been over two years of waiting to see what the X will do. I'm out of patience. I'm out of money. I'm out of energy to deal with all this crap anymore, and most of all - I'm tired of my own story.
Does that make any sense?
A week after that I had not heard from her, so I mailed in the first 1/2 of my payment due to her, and I included all my contact information, and thanked her for accepting our case.
It been another full week and as of yet I've not spoken to her. I know that she has all my contact information, and I imagine that when she wants to speak with me I'll hear from her. I don't want to seem anxious or pushy so I don't call. I don't want to appear as though I'm hiding something either - so I worry about not calling.
I am just not a patient person. This whole thing is making me nuts. I want a resolution, or at the very least a plan to work towards a resolution. It's been over two years of waiting to see what the X will do. I'm out of patience. I'm out of money. I'm out of energy to deal with all this crap anymore, and most of all - I'm tired of my own story.
Does that make any sense?
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