Waiting for the other foot to drop

You know how sometimes you have that feeling that everything is going great..too great?
Well, that's whats been going on for the last couple of months with me. When my husband first had to move out of state for work, I was a wreck and then I sorta got used to it. I guess. All I know is, where I normally would be having a freak out.. I was instead creepy calm. Calm like I was actually sedated. Of course, that raised a red flag for me . Because I am hyper, by nature. It started feeling like I was waiting for the other foot to drop. You know that saying. It kind of ruins any chance for joy because you always feel like most likely the good will surely be followed by some thing horrible.
It's been really hard dealing with the big guy being gone a lot. Everything is left on my shoulders. Things I never worried about doing before. Little things like taking out the garbage, putting out the recycling, all the housework, all the kid concerns..all the time. It tends to turn a person into a cat on a ledge. You start feeling like you are walking around holding your breath. But ,for better or worse, I got used to it. I was handling it ( in my own way) but I knew in my heart, that's not like me to go so long without having a meltdown. You know... have a meltdown, cry it out, regroup..move on. Then it came.
The other night, a seemingly innocuous incident left me distraught. I'm not going to go into detail here because I did on my other blog and I just feel crazy repeating it again. Let's just say, after a momentously shitty day to round out an already stressful couple of months, a hangnail or paper cut may have induced the same reaction. My other foot dropped, right in the middle of a random Tuesday night. And I had a meltdown, I cried it out, I tried to regroup, I got up the next morning frantically called my doctor and I have now moved on.The reason I am mentioning it here is because if you feel like that other foot is going to drop...it most certainly will. Maybe not by fate but if you are waiting for disaster to strike, actually on the look out for it to rear its ugly little head, you will definitely find it..or maybe even cause it. Chicken ..egg..???

Daddy's Hands

Up until the last 5 years, Father's Day was always about my Dad. He was the "Father" in my life. My dad is a great guy. As I grow older, my father and I are forming a bond as friends. Growing up, it was a different story.
Don't get me wrong, my Dad was a very hands on Dad when he was around.I remember him telling us we were beautiful and smart. I remember waking up in the middle of the night with terrible nightmares and my Daddy laying me on his chest until I fell asleep and then gently putting me back into my bed. I was my Daddy's daughter. It was almost impossible for him to do any wrong, in my eyes, for most of my childhood. I remember him taking my brothers and sisters and my cousins to play soccer. I remember endless summer trips to the beach. I remember long bikes rides, running with my Dad, and playing in the park for hours on end. Sounds pretty idealistic, right? It is, if you only get that half of the story.
But there is another half, my Dad was an alcoholic for most all of my childhood.There were times when he would get paid on Friday and we wouldn't see him for a good part of the weekend. We'd usually see him around Sunday evening, when he'd burned through all of his paycheck ( you know the money for our bills, food, etc). Did we complain? Amongst ourselves, of course we did. To him? Never, he never listened and I recall on an occasion my Mom bringing it up and him flipping the breakfast table..with all of our breakfast on it. He did do all  those things I mentioned above, if he was sober..it was magical. He was a great dad. He really was. But you never knew if you were going to get the sober or the drunk version. I remember most of my childhood being spent in excruciating stomach pain. I'm sure it was nerves. He made me, as well as my other 5 brothers and sisters, nervous. We'd play soccer, he was on the sidelines with a beer in one hand and cheering or chastising us depending on how many beers he had drank so far that morning. The beach was magical, except for the times when he sat there drinking and then tried to teach one of to swim by having us hang on to the back of his neck while he dived in. Yeah, I pretty much almost drowned. It scared me shitless at 5 years old. My dad was always very physically fit and I remember him taking us on bike rides and for long runs and getting so frustrated with us. No matter what we did, we always came out short by not running fast enough or getting tired too soon. We were kids and he was a drunk who needed a drink and probably wanted to be at a bar rather than being held up by a kid who had peddled their little legs off. Playing in the park for hours on end? Well, that happened for a variety of reasons; sometimes it was because we were all having such a good time, none of us wanted it to end other times it was because he was drinking with some buddies and lost track of time and it usually ended up with one of us whining until he took us home. He'd load us into the car, and drunkenly drive us home. I guess its all perspective. When I compare him to the kind of Father my husband is, I think, holy shit..he was terrible. Yet, my childhood is filled with wonderful memories. I guess when you are a child you can, will ,and do forgive almost anything.
My Dad has since stopped drinking. It happened after I was married and I was home visiting for Christmas. After a couple shots of tequila, he decided to pick a fight with me. I wasn't that quiet little girl anymore. I stood right back up to him and told him the truth about how I felt about him and his drinking and I wasn't backing down. It was the scariest moment of my life. I ended up waking my husband, in the middle of the night, and fleeing my parents house...in tears. I thought it was the end. But then, my Dad joined AA. Before, he would never have thought of doing such a thing.He would never even admit that he had a problem. It's been 10 years now, and he has been sober 100 % of the time. He is an amazing Grandfather and we are developing a renewed relationship. I have always loved him, but I spent a lot of the time being scared of his unpredictability. Sometimes, I see him with my girls and I remember how he behaved the good half of the time and I realize the alcohol is what made him the asshole. My Dad is an amazing man, alcohol robbed me and my brothers and sisters of the childhood that dreams are made of. They say that which doesn't kill us makes us stronger. I do believe that our experience as children of an alcoholic made us stronger but it also made us jaded and untrusting. I am glad alcohol is out of the equation and my children know and adore my Father as the man he was always supposed to be; the sweet, loving, caring, adoring man. Happy Father's Day Daddy!
Love, Your little Girl

Absence makes the heart grow...

Seems its time to expunge my mind. I have a lot of shit on my mind and I need to get it off of here...its getting quite crowded in here. My husband is living out of town for a job, so all week long..I am here single Mothering it with my girls. My girls are amazing but they are 2 and 5 so they are at the ..lets see how far we can push this broad stage. Normally, my threshold is much higher but lately its all been too much. Too much time alone, too much time without my husband, too much time without any 'me' time, too much always being 'on', not enough time alone with my husband, too much time with my kids. All the boundaries are getting crossed and I feel like I am getting run over in the process.
I don't know what you'd call this feeling I am feeling. It's nothing I've really ever felt before. Throughout this whole fiasco, I have had my first panic attack and now I think I may be having my first depression since high school. You know high school, when everybody is depressed and is unsatisfied with their life. My God, I wasn't even one of the kids who got picked on and I was depressed in high school:)Here, I am paying bills, making appointments, arranging parties, cleaning the house, the yard, running to and fro like a effing chicken with her head cut off.I've been holding it together but I'm noticing that I am distancing myself from people. I feel like I just want to crawl up in a whole and hibernate and just be woken up when things are back to normal.
I know I should be happy my husband even found a job, I know I should be happy with my 25 lb. weight loss (even though I have lost not a lb. more in 3 months...even though I am keeping to my points), I know I should be happy that I have friends who are worried about me, a family who cares about me...but it all feels like words. You know what I mean? No one is really coming to rescue me. I'm here...alone with my girls. And I am responsible for everything and I don't like it!Sounds ridiculous right? A grown woman complaining that her life is so hard when she is healthy, has a wonderful family, and her husband has a job, she has food, and a house in the suburbs. The problem is, it has always been my belief that anything is possible if we(my husband, myself and our girls) have each other, our love, and we are all healthy. The problem is....here I am...alone!!I have my girls but that's not help, that's doubling my workload. I have had to decide between being frustrated and irritated with my girls because I have myself worn so thin from all my responsibilities or to enjoy my girls and forget the rest. I made a hard choice, I decided to forget the rest.So, as I sit here typing this post (because this IS my catharsis) my sink is full of dishes and my baskets are full of laundry. I want normalcy back in my life.
THE weird thing is once I made the decision to forget about my chores(the balls in the air) and solely focus on my kids, I went from being uber frustrated and annoyed with myself for dropping the ball to not caring about the ball at all. I feel sorta numb and that's not anything I've ever felt. Whats worrying me more is this person that I couldn't go a day without seeing now, I can't see everyday because its like reopening a wound.I'm afraid of how this time in our life is going to change the outcome of our lives, our relationship, his relationship with our girls. DO I say, come home...to hell with the bills and responsibilities, I need you. Or do we continue on this path and see how long it takes before it destroys us? Does absence make the heart grow fonder or forgetful?

What Gives Johnny Depp the Creeps

Is this really newsworthy? More importantly, did Johnny Depp actually give an interview or confirm this crap? Not saying I don't love me some Johnny Depp because I most certainly do. I'm not big for celebrities because I think, so what? But if I were to run into Johnny DEpp in a dark alley, he could be in some danger of being molested:) I'm just saying.I've had a small , but subdued, crush on him since I was a teen and he was in Nightmare on Elm Street. He was cute then, now he is full on hot! So, what gives Johnny Depp the creeps? Probably some skeevy person reading an article to know what creeps him out, maybe someone who has his name or face tattooed on their ass, face, any other visible part of their body.Maybe it creeps him out that some people are so stupid that he had to leave the country to get away from their ignorance. Maybe the American government creeps him out? Maybe apple pie? Baseball? Fat women? Short people? People who have two different colored eyes? Those Mexican dog boys? (side note; they freak me the eff out because I am Mexican..and I am hoping that hairy scary disease is not some special disease for Mexicans. We are all pretty hairy.I'm already fighting a losing battle!) I guess what I am trying to say is..who cares what creeps Johnny Depp out? He lives in France, he's famous, he likes obscurity... when will it EVER be relevant to me, what the hell creeps Johnny Depp out? NEVER! OK, so I will print the article ( but only in CASE of an emergency, in which Johnny Depp and I are ever stranded on a deserted island!)

Ode to a Shitty Friend

Dear shitty friend,
You used to be my closest friend~
But now , after years of friendship thrown down the toilet by you~
You are indeed the shittiest of friends!
We used to be like sisters~
Where there was one, there was the other.
I shared in your happiness,
I was your biggest cheerleader!
Your friendship was more valuable to me than anything else in the world.
Then, the time came when we had to grow up.
The friendship could have evolved, it could have survived, it could have flourished~
But you chose to cut me out of your life.
Returning only on occasions when you felt especially shitty about yourself and you needed me in your cheering section.
You were like some crazy friend version of a booty call.
You'd call when you needed a friend and disappear when you didn't need it.
But when I needed my cheerleader, you were no where to be found.
When I needed guidance, sisterhood, love,support and friendship,
You turned your back on me;stopped answering your phone.
I kept waiting, even coming back for more.
I figured, you needed my friendship more than I needed my dignity.
Now, the calls have become few and far between.
Maybe once every year or so, you check in~
Just to make sure that I am not perfectly happy, you like to drop in and infuse my life with a little misery.
It's OK. I don't get upset and cry anymore,
I barely even care.
In sad reality, I expect nothing of you
And there lies our friendship, on the floor in a million pieces.
I don't worry about you ever reading this,
I know that you wouldn't afford yourself the inconvenience.
There is no benefit in it for you.
Thanks for the lifetime, but lets move forward.
I have children of my own now and I can't keep stroking your ego,
And feeding your narcissism.
I am too tired, too old, and even less interested.
Please don't call me inebriated, professing love and friendship
and making promises that you have no intentions of keeping in the light of day.
I have endured my last frustration and worry over you.
I wish you nothing but happiness in your life~
But I refuse to any longer try to resuscitate a friendship that is so long dead.
Yours truly,
Someone who is finally coming to their senses

Deep Breaths

Note to self~ Sometimes an imagination is the worst thing that could happen to you. When you are alone and everything is more subject to be blown out of proportion, do yourself a favor and keep things in perspective. Hyperventilating over things that haven't even happened or possibly don't exist are of benefit to no one! DO what you can, hope for the best, and life has a way of working out the way it is supposed to:) Yes, deep breath now!