So now with this new move, I have doubled my drive. Which is ridiculously okay with me. I went from ten to fifteen minutes to about 30 minutes to work. then about 40 minutes home (I hit some traffic). This new found time, gives me time to consider many things.
Recently, the things on my mind have been varied. Such as:
- whoever invented seatbelts- must have wanted people to be safe.. or suffocate them
- whoever invented Pintrest was a man- seriously I have never been more motivated to cook or clean with new ways or decorate in my LIFE.
- What if I was pregnant right now?- Which to clarify is impossible!! But for some reason my mind wanders to that thought whenever I am bored or lazy or whatever.
- What I could do to incorporate lights into my bedroom.
- Whether I should commit to an all organic diet.
- The effects of chemicals on my foods and my kids
- how glad I am that they are both potty trained.
- how happy I am to come home every night.
- How I like having a dishwasher.
-Who invented the dishwasher.
- Who invented Scrabble.
- Should I use my scrabble set to do crazy things on Pintrest.
- How can I protect my kids from falling out their window or off the porch.
- Can Mark swim without his life jacket?
Yeah it just gets wierd.
Thursday, February 21, 2013
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
Moving Ordeals
Yeah here it is. The moving blog. Yes, that dreaded moving blog.
My mother graciously (not really, I had to beg her practically) took the kids overnight on Friday so we could pack up the rest of the last minute items.
We moved the BF on Friday night. He only had a few big things, and some boxes. So we were able to load up my SUV, his car and his moms van. We hefted them all up the three flights of stairs.
By the way, whoever invented SOLID WOOD dressers needs to be smacked in the face. Repeatedly. Those things are heavy. Elephants are lighter. Seriously, my back just spasmed thinking of that. OW
So Friday, we received our new furniture. Couch, love seat and coffee table. They are so pretty and comfortable!!
Then came Saturday.... Oh it sucked. We had help lined up but most of them cancelled. Seriously folks... I have not moved in two years. You would think that me cashing in all the favors of the last two years in one day would be awesome. But nope. I had one person show up besides the BF's family. So we hefted out pretty much everything out of my apt. It took about three hours to empty it. Then we had to unload it... 3.5 hours later... Yeah it sucked. Third floors suck.
I pulled something in my back(lower back as well as where my bra sits). It was mildly stiff on Saturday night. Thought nothing of it. Then Sunday. Oh man... For those of you who have shoved out children naturally, God love ya. Seriously. The utmost respect comes from this gal to you. I was in tears walking around Target and Menard's. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to move. It hurt to think about moving.
Finally, around 7pm, I decide that going swimming might help. Yeah, go me for picking the dumbest thing ever. Two kids under 5, two adults and that means soreness. I was a miserable wreck...
Monday was worse. I could barely sit at work. I went home early just to try and get some rest but nope... Birthday at Chuckie Cheese. Sucky suckiness. I groaned every time I had to move even the slightest.
Tuesday started out good. I felt better but as the day progressed, I felt like death. I was having issues taking a full breath, which only made me panic more and not be able to breathe. It sucked. I was tolerating pain well until trying to sleep... 11pm came and I broke down and took a Vicodin. Seriously, a godsend.
Wednesday, and I feel OK. It hurts, but less. I am paying someone to move me next time. Yes, I do not care how much it costs. But it will be worth it.
XOXOX Blog Peeps
My mother graciously (not really, I had to beg her practically) took the kids overnight on Friday so we could pack up the rest of the last minute items.
We moved the BF on Friday night. He only had a few big things, and some boxes. So we were able to load up my SUV, his car and his moms van. We hefted them all up the three flights of stairs.
By the way, whoever invented SOLID WOOD dressers needs to be smacked in the face. Repeatedly. Those things are heavy. Elephants are lighter. Seriously, my back just spasmed thinking of that. OW
So Friday, we received our new furniture. Couch, love seat and coffee table. They are so pretty and comfortable!!
Then came Saturday.... Oh it sucked. We had help lined up but most of them cancelled. Seriously folks... I have not moved in two years. You would think that me cashing in all the favors of the last two years in one day would be awesome. But nope. I had one person show up besides the BF's family. So we hefted out pretty much everything out of my apt. It took about three hours to empty it. Then we had to unload it... 3.5 hours later... Yeah it sucked. Third floors suck.
I pulled something in my back(lower back as well as where my bra sits). It was mildly stiff on Saturday night. Thought nothing of it. Then Sunday. Oh man... For those of you who have shoved out children naturally, God love ya. Seriously. The utmost respect comes from this gal to you. I was in tears walking around Target and Menard's. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to move. It hurt to think about moving.
Finally, around 7pm, I decide that going swimming might help. Yeah, go me for picking the dumbest thing ever. Two kids under 5, two adults and that means soreness. I was a miserable wreck...
Monday was worse. I could barely sit at work. I went home early just to try and get some rest but nope... Birthday at Chuckie Cheese. Sucky suckiness. I groaned every time I had to move even the slightest.
Tuesday started out good. I felt better but as the day progressed, I felt like death. I was having issues taking a full breath, which only made me panic more and not be able to breathe. It sucked. I was tolerating pain well until trying to sleep... 11pm came and I broke down and took a Vicodin. Seriously, a godsend.
Wednesday, and I feel OK. It hurts, but less. I am paying someone to move me next time. Yes, I do not care how much it costs. But it will be worth it.
XOXOX Blog Peeps
Friday, February 8, 2013
People Hating and Badass-Ness
Yeah that's right folks.
For those of you who know my family, in particular my mother, please disregard the next paragraph.
See, I get the bad-ass-ness from my mother. (for those of you still reading, who know my mother, but chose to read this, do not giggle). It is true. Maybe not exactly, but our temperments are the same. It probably explains our relationship a whole bunch. Anyway, when eldest child was turning one, I was announcing being preggo with younger child. I was on the outs with my MIL (which turned out to be a forever thing). I did not invite her until a few days before the event (only two days after everyone else because I did not know her address.) Anyway, she showed up and proceeded to be horrible. She was commenting to everyone and anyone how horrible I was and how I almost did not invite her. She was going to "show me." She waiting conviently for my FIL and Step MIL to leave before she pounced on preggo me like a hawk. She yelled at me for keeping her grandchild away from her and turning her child against her. She screamed at me and made me cry (because hormones were not enough). I fled. I left without my kid, the (now) ex, and my bestie. As I drove away, my mother, carrying my one year old, swooped in like an eagle looking for a kill. She shamed my MIL like the best of them. Like a lion guarding her cubs, my mother ripped her a new one.
Ok check back in folks: If I learned two things that day, it was: 1. My MIL was a POS. 2. My mother, despite her conflicting opinions with me, has my back. She is my tag team mate who after winning a match, slams you in the back with a chair just to make sure you know she is the superior one.
Anyway, I notice myself, especially these days, becoming more like my mother. Not in the exact way, but in the way that makes you proud. Like hey, my mother taught me this and now I am being that lion mother for my kids. And It doesnt matter who its against. Even thier dad. I have taken the whole "Do not mess with the lion's young" thing to heart. My kids are my everything. They are the one thing that matters most to me. I could care less if tomorrow I lose my job, wreck my car, and everyone deserted me. I would have my kids. And you would be damn sure that I would be doing everything the next day to pick myself up for them. Fake it 'til you make it babe!
XOXOX Blog Peeps
For those of you who know my family, in particular my mother, please disregard the next paragraph.
See, I get the bad-ass-ness from my mother. (for those of you still reading, who know my mother, but chose to read this, do not giggle). It is true. Maybe not exactly, but our temperments are the same. It probably explains our relationship a whole bunch. Anyway, when eldest child was turning one, I was announcing being preggo with younger child. I was on the outs with my MIL (which turned out to be a forever thing). I did not invite her until a few days before the event (only two days after everyone else because I did not know her address.) Anyway, she showed up and proceeded to be horrible. She was commenting to everyone and anyone how horrible I was and how I almost did not invite her. She was going to "show me." She waiting conviently for my FIL and Step MIL to leave before she pounced on preggo me like a hawk. She yelled at me for keeping her grandchild away from her and turning her child against her. She screamed at me and made me cry (because hormones were not enough). I fled. I left without my kid, the (now) ex, and my bestie. As I drove away, my mother, carrying my one year old, swooped in like an eagle looking for a kill. She shamed my MIL like the best of them. Like a lion guarding her cubs, my mother ripped her a new one.
Ok check back in folks: If I learned two things that day, it was: 1. My MIL was a POS. 2. My mother, despite her conflicting opinions with me, has my back. She is my tag team mate who after winning a match, slams you in the back with a chair just to make sure you know she is the superior one.
Anyway, I notice myself, especially these days, becoming more like my mother. Not in the exact way, but in the way that makes you proud. Like hey, my mother taught me this and now I am being that lion mother for my kids. And It doesnt matter who its against. Even thier dad. I have taken the whole "Do not mess with the lion's young" thing to heart. My kids are my everything. They are the one thing that matters most to me. I could care less if tomorrow I lose my job, wreck my car, and everyone deserted me. I would have my kids. And you would be damn sure that I would be doing everything the next day to pick myself up for them. Fake it 'til you make it babe!
XOXOX Blog Peeps
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
Something Funny About The World
Sometimes, you have to go through a whole ton of shit before you find someone who will do anything for you, for nothing in return.
That was my night...
Panic Attack at first job, continued while driving to second job, continued at second job, continued at home. Yuck.
I wish I could tell you what I panicked about. I wish I knew. I have some anxiety related to moving, but not anymore than I can handle. And relatively, this is the LEAST stressful move ever. Because Ben is actually with me while I pack.
So after coming home and feeling like a zombie (which is a usual side effect when I have starved off a panic attack) I laid on the couch and cuddled in a blanket.
I have had the experience of people who just tell me to "relax" during a panic attack. Seriously, that does not work. If I could, I would have done it. I don't want to feel like I am dying.
I have had the flip side where people hover over you, treating like you are in wheelchair and constantly bugging you. I do not want to be bothered. Let me deal with it my own way.
So there I sat, cuddled in a blanket (no not the irrational one from the last post). The BF came over and just sat by me. He asked if I was hungry for dinner and that was it. He let me be but at the same time, let me know he understood what was going on, and was there if I needed something.
Plus of dating someone who has panic attacks as well? I think so!
After two hours, some reading and just laying with the dogs, I felt better. Enough to eat anyway.
Today is looking up. I feel less stressed. I am ready to conquer the day!!!
Go me!
That was my night...
Panic Attack at first job, continued while driving to second job, continued at second job, continued at home. Yuck.
I wish I could tell you what I panicked about. I wish I knew. I have some anxiety related to moving, but not anymore than I can handle. And relatively, this is the LEAST stressful move ever. Because Ben is actually with me while I pack.
So after coming home and feeling like a zombie (which is a usual side effect when I have starved off a panic attack) I laid on the couch and cuddled in a blanket.
I have had the experience of people who just tell me to "relax" during a panic attack. Seriously, that does not work. If I could, I would have done it. I don't want to feel like I am dying.
I have had the flip side where people hover over you, treating like you are in wheelchair and constantly bugging you. I do not want to be bothered. Let me deal with it my own way.
So there I sat, cuddled in a blanket (no not the irrational one from the last post). The BF came over and just sat by me. He asked if I was hungry for dinner and that was it. He let me be but at the same time, let me know he understood what was going on, and was there if I needed something.
Plus of dating someone who has panic attacks as well? I think so!
After two hours, some reading and just laying with the dogs, I felt better. Enough to eat anyway.
Today is looking up. I feel less stressed. I am ready to conquer the day!!!
Go me!
Monday, February 4, 2013
Moving Ordeals
I am positive that most people, at one point in time, have moved. Either it be into another room in the same house, across the street, across the country, etc.
But still, I think I hate it more than the average person. I hate packing. I hate shoving my life, my memories into boxes. Its unrealistic that one person should be able to do it and keep their sanity. I go through all of my stuff, getting rid of all of my items that mean nothing to me, and yet still, I am stuck with lots of stuff.
I dont mean stuff I wont use. I mean stuff that I have some wierd, irrational attachment to. Like a blanket from someone who is not even family anymore. I mean, I love the blanket, and its pretty, but its old now, mainly from me sleeping with it almost every night for about 7 years. But I cannot throw it away. It has a few holes and is faded. But I just cant. I sleep horrible without it. I have tried finding similar blankets. No Luck. Nope. I am stuck with this one. This crummy blanket that reminds me of everything sad, and I cant part from it. It was handmade and well made, but frankly I get irritated when I have to wash it, because that means a night of sleeping horrible without it. (yeah this whole paragraph makes me sound like a five year old.)
It is not just the blanket either. Its other things. Chairs that were gifts. Pictures that mean nothing other than the sayings on them. Irrational crap. Emotional, irrational crap.
I am stuck with it. Emotional Physical Baggage. EPB. That does not even include the other emotional baggage I have. At least that can be dealt with.
So I trudge along, packing. Carrying my EPB with me to another place.
So sick of moving. Of going through stuff. YUCK.
So here is to another night of sleeping with the irrational blanket.
But still, I think I hate it more than the average person. I hate packing. I hate shoving my life, my memories into boxes. Its unrealistic that one person should be able to do it and keep their sanity. I go through all of my stuff, getting rid of all of my items that mean nothing to me, and yet still, I am stuck with lots of stuff.
I dont mean stuff I wont use. I mean stuff that I have some wierd, irrational attachment to. Like a blanket from someone who is not even family anymore. I mean, I love the blanket, and its pretty, but its old now, mainly from me sleeping with it almost every night for about 7 years. But I cannot throw it away. It has a few holes and is faded. But I just cant. I sleep horrible without it. I have tried finding similar blankets. No Luck. Nope. I am stuck with this one. This crummy blanket that reminds me of everything sad, and I cant part from it. It was handmade and well made, but frankly I get irritated when I have to wash it, because that means a night of sleeping horrible without it. (yeah this whole paragraph makes me sound like a five year old.)
It is not just the blanket either. Its other things. Chairs that were gifts. Pictures that mean nothing other than the sayings on them. Irrational crap. Emotional, irrational crap.
I am stuck with it. Emotional Physical Baggage. EPB. That does not even include the other emotional baggage I have. At least that can be dealt with.
So I trudge along, packing. Carrying my EPB with me to another place.
So sick of moving. Of going through stuff. YUCK.
So here is to another night of sleeping with the irrational blanket.
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