“You can't be happy unless you're unhappy sometimes".” ― Lauren Oliver, Delirium

I recently got into a small altercation of sorts over my personal happiness and a friend reacting to how she perceived me and in turn, how I reacted to how she reacted....ya, see the shit storm brewing? Damn

You'd think I was a child with my social skills, I do not do well on the fly. I always look back and thing, I should have said this...I should have done this...I shouldn't have let it bother me.

I was hurt by her words, I am still hurt, I don't do well with hurt.
I refused to speak with her about it, when she asked. Not because I didn't want to, but be cause I wasn't ready for what she was going to say.
I didn't understand how she could say I was a sad person, that I looked angry and unhappy.

I had to think on it. I had to write about it. I had to say to myself anything she could possibly say to avoid hurt. Something I'm sure she wouldn't intentionally do, but I'm a sensitive nitwit and things effect me.

“Happiness is the consequence of personal effort. You fight for it, strive for it, insist upon it, and sometimes even travel around the world looking for it. You have to participate relentlessly in the manifestations of your own blessings. And once you have achieved a state of happiness, you must never become lax about maintaining it. You must make a mighty effort to keep swimming upward into that happiness forever, to stay afloat on top of it.” 
― Elizabeth Gilbert, Eat, Pray, Love

I liked this quote...and the one I posted above. I like them because I've lived them.

I lived an unhappy life, I was miserable in my late teens, early twenties. MISERABLE.

I worked my ass off to fix it, I had to fix me. I had to choose to change my thinking and focus on all the good in my life. I had some amazing people come into my life and push me forward when I needed it, because there were moments that I wasn't sure the pain of fighting through the sadness was worth it. It was.
I also had some people come into my life that wanted to take me out at the knees, they tried damn hard. I made it through, bruised but I made it. Gotta keep moving forward, live and learn,
"You can't be happy unless you're unhappy sometimes"

So since I was miserable *in all caps* before, that means I am capable of experiencing HAPPINESS, right?

F-word yes!

I have nothing in my life to be unhappy about, yes I have challenges, we all do. Right? Riiight??

It is safe to say those life challenges distract me from pleasantries or smiling all the time. I frown when I'm focused.  There have been many times that I get so lost in my own head that I look pissed off.

I don't feel unhappy, I am not unhappy, but I appear unhappy, and that upsets people.
I must fix this.

Why do we get the holiday blues?

I'd rather not have them. I have nothing to be "blue" about. But alas, once Thanksgiving rolls around I begin to feel empty inside. The emptiness only grows as Christmas approaches, big gaping black hole of nothing-ness, once the New Years comes and goes, I begin to feel the emptiness close and snap myself out of my funk.
So. Much. Effort. BAH!

Being in the funk sucks, ya know, it needs a capital, this shit is important! The Funk sucks.
I wonder what causes it. Weather perhaps? Missing loved ones that are gone? The feeling of inadequacy we have when we can't figure out what to get our kids or loved ones for Christmas to appropriately express to them how we feel, what their value is to us?

Or maybe it's all those mixed into one, lump in the throat, restless nights of sleep, Funk.

The Funk can kiss my skinny boo-tay! I am done with it, I am taking power away from the funk.
*removes capital letter, eat that funk*  The funk is no longer important and I am giving power to the good, happy, warm-fuzzy, thoughts that should be dancing through my head. *like sugar plums, dance in my head*

I can't say that my decision above has instantly dissolved my feelings, but I recognize them and put them to rest. In fact, I challenge each one of you, reading this that experiences funk...to a funk-off!

We are going to write down all our funk, and then cross that shit out! You know what I mean, scribble so much it dents the page written on, oh heck...get wild, scribble a freaking hole! See how it feels funk, take that! And then flip that shit, write one thing you are thankful for, it doesn't matter how trivial you feel this thing is, if you're thankful. Write it down. Do it. Dooooo it!

Although I can't scribble on my computer screen I can strikethrough like nobodies business.

I'm going to start my funk-off now:

I miss my dad. *picture Yosemite Sam cursing* We had no Christmas traditions, we were awkward as a family, but it worked and I miss that awkwardness. Stop. You know better than to have those feelings, your dad might be physically gone but he will NEVER leave you. Quityerbitchen and see the signs.

Will I ever be enough for my kids? I screwed up plenty when Mini Me was a little, but what I wouldn't give to see her genuinely happy and laughing. *without causing harm to her brother*  She is 13, you are being sensitive. Get over it. She loves you and you two have a great relationship.

I don't have enough time in the day to do all I want. Lies all lies. You want very little and you can do it all. Reorganize the order in which you complete your tasks. Wait to do dishes until AFTER the kids are in bed, there is always time after dinner and baths to snuggle on the couch. Get up early to go to the gym, problem solved.

I don't have enough money for...*random object* Ummm, you do have enough money, your priorities have shifted, you now have a mortgage, 401k and other important responsibilities. You are a responsible adult and let's be honest, do you really need *random object* heck you can't even name it.

I have more, but I'm sure you see my point and to be honest, that strikethrough, although not as exciting as a scribble, worked pretty well.

As a parent, how do you respond when...

As a parent, how do you respond when your child points out that the Santa as school isn't really the REAL Santa.
My sweet Little Buddy got into some MAJOR trouble with his after school program for making a very very bad joke.

A little back story:
Not sure where Little Buddy heard this, most likely an old Disney cartoon where Goofy dresses up as Santa. Well, he came home talking about a story where a little boy pulled the beard off of the "fake" Santa and exposed him for the fraud he was. *See below.

Santa just so happened to be visiting Little Buddy's school yesterday, and what does my dear sweet child say to the kids?

"That's not Santa, his beard is fake, I know someone pulled it off."

SHIT!!

According to the teacher at his after school program, Little Buddy ruined Christmas for children who still believe in Santa.
P.S. this just auto corrected to Satan. *nervous giggle*

He was kept away from the kids for the day.
He was scolded and told that he ruined Christmas.
He was told that Santa doesn't come to the homes of non-believers and that he wouldn't get any gifts.

I would like to take the time to point out that my child STILL EFFING BELIEVES in Santa.

We get to the car and he BURSTS into tears, big Niagara falls tears. All he can say to me is "Mom I didn't mean it, I didn't mean to ruin Christmas, but he was fake"
My response was simple, "Buddy how would you feel if someone came to class and told you Santa wasn't real"
"But he is real, Mom. I know it" was his response.

He then told me it was just supposed to be a joke, that it was a high school volunteer, the boots were fake, he didn't mean to hurt anyone. And the tears continued.

I felt like my child was being made out to be a bad kid, a mean child that wanted others to not believe. When it was a stupid mistake. We all make mistakes, we all react to the mistakes we make differently and he was taking this hard.

I hugged him, I hugged him and told him it was OK. That he could make it better, apologize to the kids and explain that it was a bad joke.

"But they think I'm a bad kid, they think I'm mean. I ruined Christmas!"

So I walked my freezing booty back into the school and asked the provider for a moment of their time. I proceed to explain to her that he does believe in Santa and that he didn't mean it. He isn't a bad kid and would never intentionally hurt anyone, especially in this way. I told her that I understood that he hurt feelings of his friends and that he wanted to apologize and make up for it.

I was told this: "He did Christmas for a few of his friends, one in particular was crying. A special needs child will not get over this. I don't know why he did it, but we won't tolerate it. That Santa is the only Santa some of these kids will see, this is a very poor area and they don't have the ability to see a mall santa"

What I thought was:
Um, excuse me but I am well aware of the economic profile of OUR neighborhood. We live here too! My child has NEVER sat on a "mall Santa's" lap, I don't like the lines, I don't like the crowds, I don't like most people and I sure as hell don't have the money to spend on a pic of my screaming child sitting on a strangers lap (what lesson are we teaching here?!). Heck the last Santa he saw was Goofy for goodness sakes! But in his defense, he was right. The young man in the Santa suit was not the real Santa. Whether he believes or not there is nothing wrong with noticing flaws in a costume. Should he have kept his observations to himself, damn right he should have. But we are human we make mistakes. Ease up will ya, he's 7 years old!

What I said was:
"I am sorry that my sons poor choice in a joke has led his friends to not believe in Santa. I sorry that you feel his mistake has ruined Christmas for a few of his peers. My Little Buddy is a mess over this and feels terrible."

I should have said what I thought...

It's been a while...

It's been a while since I have let my thoughts run rampant through my fingers...I'm feeling a bit antsy because of it too. 

*freeeeeee the fingins*

A lot has gone on in my household lately. None bad, just lots.

Where to start. Where. To. Start.

*I'm nervous about what I'm about to type*

I'll start with Colie. She's the beginning and the main thing on my mind lately.

Blondie and I Walked to Defeat ALS with Colie, her friends and family for her dad. As I looked around I saw a sea of glow stick green, all in support of Larry. Bright pink in support of someone else. Camo in support of yet another person plagued by this shitty disease.
It was a very emotional day for me, as I am sure it was for everyone. Here I was surrounded by happiness and sadness all at the same time. Hope, excitement, grief and loss. And then there was Colie, big beautiful grin on her face, as always. Bright green sparkling tu-tu with matching t-shirt. She looked cute as always.

She hid her eyes behind cute glasses.

Yes it was a beautiful day, the sun was out *she was wearing green so bright it shamed the sun, reflecting in a mirror...on fire* but that wasn't the reason today.

Colie's eyes tell stories...this story is one I am familiar with, a story I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy let alone someone I care about and love.

*Stupid shitty diseases. We aren't ready to lose him yet. Go away and never come back, we still need him!* 

I am so PROUD of you Colie. You are doing everything right, you aren't ignoring what is happening.  You are not being silent. Don't ever be silent.

Look around you, all the support! What a huge amount of support from those you've touched, those you continue to touch.

You are a survivor.

Buggs I am so sorry! I wish I could take it all away, I wish I could live this for you. But I can't. This is a gift to you, a shitty gift but one nonetheless. There is a lesson to learn, in everything we over come there is a bigger lesson. You might not see it now, and that's ok. But you will soon.
*just don't do what I did, ten years to figure out a lesson is a wee bit too long.*
 You. Will. Be. OK.

*eff you ALS, we are stronger than you*

Remember the time I was cutting fruit in the Foresthill house and you told me you were allergic to cantaloupe, but not if you put salt on it?

Ya, you're nuts and I still love you. 









 

Stop and enjoy the bubbles

No really, do it. Bubbles are magical. *unless they are spewing from your dishwasher*

Has anyone ever looked at a bubble and not smiled? I didn't think so.

I was on my way to work yesterday, late because of some court business I had to take care of.
Needless to say I was a bit stressed. Not stressed as in court is a bad thing and I don't think things will go my way, I'm not out any money...maybe just some time.
All in all I am grateful for going to court. But it's still stressful. Yikes.

So I'm in the middle of my mental battle to cool my jets, I stop at a stop sign and a bubble crosses my path. A BUBBLE!!!

"Hey there, I'm a bubble. Don't mind me, I'm just a bubble. A bubble in the crosswalk, cruising along, minding my own business."
 *yes the bubble spoke to me, in a voice similar to the Abominable Snowman from Buggs Bunny

This guy, right there. *I just learned how to add pics hehe

So the bubble crosses in front of me and I can't stop laughing, wouldn't you be cracking up if a bubble was talking to you?!? Well I was, tears were forming, my cheeks hurt and I became thankful.

*it was my bonk on the head moment of the week

I looked to the right and saw families playing in the Square, I didn't see where my bubble came from, but I was happy. I imagined the bubble's maker to be a little girl with curls in her auburn hair, a pink shirt with bows on it, jean shorts and sandals, she was laughing that magical belly laugh only children can create and blowing with all her might.
Enjoying life, nothing mattered but her bubble maker and bubble juice in her little hand.

I was thankful for being late to work this day, people are so quick to give others the advice "Stop and smell the Roses" but who actually does it? I don't. My life is hyper-speed, always.

I stopped for the bubble.

I was thankful for my two beautiful children.
I was thankful for being able to watch them grow and learn about life.
I was thankful for the anxiety I feel when Mini Me goes to a friends house and spends the night.
I was thankful for the good decisions she makes on a daily basis.
I was thankful for my Little Buddy and his helper nature.

All this was thankful business, I am thankful. 


To think, my day started out stressful, hectic morning, forgot my veggie for my lunch, Little Buddy wanted to wear baseball pants to school, late for work, court. *something about the metal detector freaks me out

That damn bubble. Minding it's own business, crossing the street doing what bubbles do.

Maybe everyone needs their own analogy, maybe what works for someone, my bubble, won't work for someone else, a rose smeller.  

My point is, slow down and enjoy each moment. Life isn't as difficult as we make it, but it's one hell of a ride.
Heck, we don't make it out alive so we might as well have fun while we are here. Right!?
We have got to enjoy the times we will never get back.

PS: Dollar store bubbles rock, get some. Share the joy of bubbles. 

Being sick sucks! Anxiety sucks! Death, ya- that sucks too. This is a trilogy of posts...yikes!

This is my ending, I've decided to post it first. I went all over the place with myself today. Enjoy.

When someone dies, do they leave and are they forgotten?

I love this question so much, I had to bold and underline it. This question is fantastic, it makes you THINK. It takes that anxiety ridden brain and slows it, it focuses it. My body is vibrating with excitement right now!

A person that we truly love and admire, someone that has touched us in a certain way, that special way never really leaves us. We just have to choose to remember the moments we shared, everything we need and want from a person that has passed is locked up in that beautiful brain of ours, waiting for us to find it and enjoy those memories.

My father died almost 14 years ago, it took me 10 years to even say "My dad is dead"
My mother is still not allowed to talk about him, her fault. Don't bad mouth a dead man, especially to his daughter who is convinced that the sun rises and sets because of him.
Ya, my dad was that badass, dare I say it, Chuck Norris has nothing on him. Oh and he would have beat my ass for me calling him an ass earlier in this post.
I'm sorry, I'm not sorry.

Hell ya I miss him, that will never stop. Ever. But it gets easier.

But I still have my dad, up there in my head, every experience we shared is there. Trips to Dillon's Beach, different hot rods we restored, some memories are stronger than others. Some are altogether crappy memories, usually when I was in trouble. *I catalog those for reprimanding my kids, hehe* 

Some memories are tough and have to be triggered by others memories of him, these are the best memories yet most difficult for me to handle.
In fact, there was a point in time where I shut them out entirely, I didn't want anyone speaking of my dad. I wanted no one to make me feel that way ever again, tears stinging  my eyes and the tightness in my chest. The mere mention of his name was like I was losing him all over again, to add a memory to it was too much. I longed for those memories to be replayed in real life.
I was angry. I wanted my dad.
That was the beginning of my detachment with my father, for years I numbed myself to any feelings. Not only did I shut out my dad and all the feelings associated with his loss, but my anxiety begin. I lost weight, LOTS of weight. I lost friends, I developed a fear of abandonment, and made bad choices.
I forgot it all. No memory = no pain, right?
I only had myself to thank for it.
I was so wrong. Don't do what I did.

They say a rumor looses it's power when you stop spreading it. 

Well, for me that rings true for those that pass away.

A spirit looses it's power when you no longer speak of it.

*Oh boy I'm excited again, sharing what's in my crazy brain!!*

Almost three years ago, my life changed. I have mentioned Sam and her incredible ability before, but three years ago Sam came into my life. Sam showed me that I was wrong for pushing my feelings aside, she helped me embrace the pain I felt and harness it's energy to help me heal and feel my father again.
What I should have done this entire time.
Sam helped me get my life back, helped me find my center and helped me live. Not only was I taking power away from my father's spirit, I was taking away from mine.

By someone else mentioning my father it was generating more power to his spirit, power I was not prepared for. What I first thought was sadness, wasn't.
It was just my daddy storing more memories in my brain, more reasons to smile and remember him.

With this knowledge, I started to feel alive again. My brain ignited and feelings, memories and experiences came flowing back into me. I became emotional, in a good way. I started to laugh, like cheeks and abs hurting laugh. I made better choices for me and my children. Pretty much, I got my shit together.

So ya, I was angry when he died, who wouldn't be. I felt as if I had been cheated, I still needed more time. I had more to learn.
What I didn't realize was that he had given me the tools to succeed, and if I had any questions, my notes were stored as memories in my brain.



The REAL beginning: *hehe*

Being in any way pleasant, when sick, sucks even worse. I'm grumpy, I don't feel well and I have NO time for any of it.

I was just telling Blondie, "I haven't been sick sick since we met" He wasn't quite sure what I meant, but I have sick issues, when I am sick it's for months. I don't recover well because I never give myself time to recover.When I am sick, I need sleep. That is my best medicine, rest. *along with vitamin C, garlic, and multi-vitamins.*

Ready to hear my complaint? I am sick! I am achy, my nose is bright red, I have a full set of luggage under my eyes, my lungs are weak, I am super sensitive to scents; flowers, perfume, especially cigarettes, I can't breathe seems like all I do is wheeze, forget sleeping because it's not possible, toss turn toss turn, *cardio at night anyone?*, my nose is either the hoover dam or Niagara falls, sometimes both...at once.

Pretty, right?

Then there is this figure competition that I have been dieting for. 8 weeks left, yikes! I got measured and didn't lose as much body fat as I had hoped, but dang I am still down a lot. I should be proud of myself, but I'm not.
I haven't been training like I should, I have had more cheat meals than I should. But not anymore. I can't give up on this, I won't fail. This was something I wanted to do with Blondie, but I'm feeling alone. Which is odd because I know I have Blondie to talk to, to train with, to prep with. I have my trainer, Casey who is always available and pretty much a pro at listening to me b!tch about $hit that I'll forget about in 2 weeks. My kids motivate me, Little Buddy is almost as good as we are about prepping meals.
"Momma don't you need two bags of protein and two pineapple?"
Meh, get yourself together, it's just the gym. The weights don't grow legs and attack you, you do this at Casey's, do it at 24!

Along with being sick, and extremely discouraged about my show, I am not able to control my anxiety.
Sickness and anxiety go hand in hand for me.

*I should have labeled post, Caution: Pity party, enter at your own risk*

I've battled this damn anxiety crap for years, about 14 years to be exact.
*I really should blame all of this on my father, he is the one that died. Ass.Yes, he is an ass for dying, I wasn't done learning from him yet. Ass ass ass ass meh ass.*
Most of the time, when I'm not sick and physically weak,  I can chill myself out and mentally stabilize myself. I have learned that everything in life has choices; so instead of allowing or choosing to let my anxiety consume me, I simply choose to not give it the power to ruin my day, mood, diet, life. My anxiety is used to empower me, it is my fuel to be better and to be stronger...
Not today! I am freaking the eff out.
Knees shaking, heart is racing, ears are plugged and ringing *sick remember*, my heart is going a million miles an hour and my brain, good lord.  my brain is traveling at speeds that would make Captain Kirk dramatically throw himself around in shock.

*I can still be funny while sick and smack dab in the middle of anxiety, go me! Ass*

If I don't laugh, I'll cry, if I don't laugh I'll cry. Must not give up.

You know what helped a lot last night? Mini Me, in her wisdom BEYOND her years, suggested I sit and paint my nails with her, she gave me this look like. "Dammit momma, sit your skinny butt down next to me and chill out, you can't do it all right now, you can't fix it all right now and those chipped nails aren't going to help." And you know what, I did. She brought out her paints, cause she's girly and has some, and we did our nails. I calmed down.

So here I sit, thinking of why I'm upset, bothered, anxiety ridden.
I've made lists, thank you Blondie. I have checked $hit off those lists, which is cool.
I have relaxed myself through breathing.
I have an amazing job with equally amazing co-workers.
I have built some pretty dang great friendships.
I started this blog, which is a MAJOR help in getting things out. I had no idea how fun this would actually be for me, even if no one reads. ha!
Little Buddy is doing amazing in school, that in itself should send me over the moon.

I still have weak days; the third Sunday in June, July 1st and Sept. 10th to be exact. But at least I can expect them so they really shouldn't sideline me like this, at least not after 14 damn years, right?

*look on a calendar you bloody idiot, prepare better for these days and they won't sucker punch you*

So now that I've written all of that, spit it out of my little fingers and onto the page, I have managed to calm down

~I have realized that how I am feeling about every aspect of my life is normal, nothing in life should go easily, if it does, we might take it for granted. Take nothing for granted.

~Everyone has one thing, maybe more, that truly makes them happy, do it. Do it often and truly enjoy it.
Live baby, live!

~People set goals, some get met, some don't, the only time you fail is when you quit.
*dammit dad, right again*

~We lose people we love and it sucks. When loss happens we feel lost, angry, excruciating pain, frustration, wonder, did I say anger?
*You can say anger twice, it's an odd anger. Like you might combust from it's sheer heat and pissed-off-ness.*
We can't be here forever, each and every person we encounter, has an expiration date. Are we ever ready to say goodby forever? Nope. Does that person leave and get forgotten? Ha! That is the right question!

The answer is above.
 

"Every day may not be good, but there’s something good in every day." ~Unknown

I don't know who said it, but it's true.


I woke up this morning in a rotten mood. It was one of those days where you get out of bed and you feel everything around you mutter "$hit, she's up". Then when your feet hit the ground, you step on something sharp, stub your toe on the door frame and bonk your head on the shower knob.

*picture the wildfire scene in Bambi, animals scatter running for safety.*

Ya, I had that kind of morning.

I woke up Little Buddy, who was happily sleeping in his homemade bunk bed hammock, he is so cuddly in the mornings. *Ain't nobody got time for that* Little Buddy was in slow mode, and well, he rarely has a slow mode. He was very distracted this morning which didn't help him being extra slow. I got mad. Poor guy. I was angry with him for just trying to wake up and be sweet to the dogs, go potty, hug me good morning, wash his hands before he brushed his teeth, it seemed like I was upset to be upset and I took it out on him.

Little Buddy loves his basket ball shorts, he mimics Blondie with every chance he gets (even requesting protein shakes so he can grow big and strong). He wanted to wear a pair that I had not washed, he didn't care. But I did.  I didn't talk to him about it, I talked at him. Defeated my sweet little boy retreated to his bedroom to find something else to wear. It took too long, I had breakfast made and his lunch packed, but I had yet to get ready myself. I needed Little Buddy to hurry, he is always quick...why. not. now?? Bah, I feel crappy about how I spoke to him this morning, his big brown tear filled eyes looking up at me, apologizing to me for something that I should be apologizing to him for. I tied his shoes ( I wanted fast, remember) and held him. I hugged my crying boy and told him I was sorry. I told him I messed up by speaking to him the way I did, I told him he picked a good outfit and he did a fantastic job at brushing his teeth. (He took his time, did well...I wanted fast) UGH, I screwed up big time this morning. Dammit.


Mini Me stayed away, she wrapped herself in her peace sign snuggie knock off and kept her distance. She is a smart one. She understands me, you see Mini Me and I are identical. Not just in looks but in moods. Sometimes, when she wakes up, I shudder. "$hit, she's up".  As hard as it is being the same as your little, it makes it easy to understand.  This morning Mini Me understood, I needed her too. She looked at me, smiled at me, let me be bat$hit crazy and then said, "Momma, go get ready, I'll help. Go"

*I hardly said a word to my kids this morning, aside from barking orders at Little Buddy and the pleading look on my face of "help me" to Mini Me.*

Ahhhhh, I feel rotten. There aren't many days that I feel like a crappy momma, but dang it if this isn't one of them.

As you can see, my day has not been fantastic, my nerves are shot, my brain is going a million miles an hour, I feel guilty, and I am tired.

*I can take on the world if I'm rested, I don't handle much when I'm tired.*

I really should be locked away all day. I am not fun to be around. 

Buuuuuut my day is also good, I need to recognize that. I do feel better now that I have confessed to you my antics of this morning, still feeling guilty. I will still make it up to him. I make mistakes, but I can fix it.
I may be cranky and easily rubbed wrong but I have a great job, great co-workers, a boyfriend that adores me, and children that will still let me kiss them in public.

So tonight when I get home I am going to talk to my Little Buddy, explain to him that I was very wrong to treat him poorly, I was wrong to be frustrated with him. I am going to apologize. . *sorry means nothing without the positive action toward change*
Not only will I apologize, I will make my best effort to never treat him that way again. I will promise to fix my moods before stepping out of my room.
Just because I'm upset by some unknown, doesn't mean I have any right to project those negative feelings onto those I love. It is not Little Buddies fault, or Blondie's fault, or Mini Me's fault. I own my moods, I have to be an adult and make the decision to choose to see the good in every day.