When bullies drive you to mom rage - pt 1 "The Volleyball Experience"

 

I have been experiencing the most overwhelming mom rage and I have no idea how to manage it.  My daughter is being bullied at multiple levels at her high school - from teammates, from coaches, from administrators issuing consequences - and I have completely lost my ability to manage my emotions around the situation.  It's toxic.  I know it's toxic.  It's making a bad situation worse.  I know all this, but I can't get control.  

Last year, my 14 year old was a freshman at a small Lutheran high school.  Almost all of the children at this school came from a close-knit network of Lutheran grade schools and knew each other well.  My daughter was the outsider and I explained to her this was going to be challenging.  She was confident she could handle it.  She had attended their volleyball camp at end of summer and the kids were so nice and she had so much fun.  So, we enrolled her and the first few weeks went well.  She made JV volleyball and seemed to be making friends with kids on the team.

Things started to change.  I was picking her up from practice in tears.  The coach was yelling at her, and only her, frequently and harshly.  I listened and consoled.  We talked about how tough coaches can be sometimes and got her calmed down.  But, the yelling continued and coach started throwing in a dose of humiliation.  One day, the team was standing in a circle discussing their game the next day.  Coach looked down at my daughter’s shoes with disdain and asked, “are you going to get new shoes?”.  We could have purchased volleyball shoes but my daughter didn't think it was necessary for a very short JV season at such a small school...and neither did I.  We bought the shoes.  Then, the team was instructed to line up and, one by one, take position so coach could give them feedback on form.  When my daughter took position, coach commented, “there’s so much wrong with that I don’t know where to start” and sent my daughter to the end of the line.  At another time, the team was broken into duos to do peppering.  My daughter’s partner was working on hitting and, as can be expected from a 14 year old learning volleyball, the hits were inconsistent and my daughter was chasing the ball a lot.  After a while, she got lazy chasing the ball and coach issued a reprimand that required mydaughter to answer.  My daughter answered, “ok” and coach yelled, “don’t say ok to me’.  My daughter panicked and said, “ok” again.  This happened a couple more times with coach becoming more angry each time.  Then she demanded my daughter do 20 push-ups while the team stood and watched.  At end of year, there was a volleyball quad and my daughter made an error on the court.  The coach lost her mind and screamed at my daughter so loud the the gym fell silent.  My daughter was so terrified she froze and couldn't function for the rest of her rotation.  She was removed from the game.

As my daughter's relationship with the coach deteriorated, so did her relationship with her teammates.  She became the joke of the team.  They joked about how she was stupid and couldn't do anything right.  Anytime a mistake was made, a teammate commented, "quit acting like daughter's name".  Items were getting stolen from her locker three times a month.  She tried to attend a football game and sit with her teammates and they pushed her off the bleacher seat saying there was no room.  She heard regular comments on what a mess her hair was and why she dressed like a lesbian.  My husband and I told her multiple times that we needed to talk to the coach and to address these issues, but she begged us not to and insisted that would make it worse.  So we stood by nervously and prayed the end of season come before her mental health was seriously affected.  When it finally ended, we hugged her, told her she hadn't done anything to deserve that treatment, and prayed we could move on and heal.

It looks like pickles

I am not awake today. The combination of my job, a sick, nursing infant, and a preschooler who is potty training has completely drained me. Fatigue started when the post doc nearly killed his computer by forcing it to function with all 30 gigabytes of memory full to the tippy tippy top (he has only been here 6 months, I have been here 4 years and have used 800 MB). I spent all of Mon am explaining to him that the 250 papers he was saving to his hard drive in super-rich-text complete-color-illustration format would definitely still exist in the medical database a month from now and he could trust the database to save them for him. This was followed by 3 hours of continuous nursing with Scoots as soon as I arrived home and that certainly contributed to my fatigue.
But, potty training really was the final blow. Manther absolutely must operate in extremes at all times. I found out last week that it took until the age of 3 years and 11 months to potty train her because she holds her pee for all 8 hours at daycare rather than use a potty that is not tucked away in a private room. I was more than a little shocked to find that she is (or is capable of) doing this and explained the importance finding and using a potty when the urge occurs rather than get sick with a UTI. So, I was woken up at 2:30 am, after two full hours of sleep, by a little voice telling me she had to go potty. More precisely, poo poo. I perched on the edge of the bathtub and fought to stay awake and keep my balance as we poo pooed and discussed Spiderman. Apparently, he was on TV last night and Manther really likes him and wanted to know the details of his existance: does he live in a house, does he have parents, does he come in the front door or down the chimney, will he come to my birthday party, if we were in trouble would he rush in to rescue us, and on and on and on. Finally, there was silence. I looked up from the doze I had fallen into to see Manther standing next to and staring into the potty. I asked if she was okay and she said, "I went poo poo." I congratulated her and asked why she looked concerned. "My poo poo looks like pickles." Funny? Yes, but not at 2:45am. After many assurances that everyone's poop looks something like what she saw in the potty, we returned to bed (praise God). From this point on, all fruits and fiber that are served in my household will be served at morning meals only.

Is Jello really a food?

I am posting again. Things are a bit scary at work and I need an outlet. I mean scary like 'the economy is scary', not like 'the people are scary'. The people at work can be scary, but I adjusted to that long ago. I can adjust to almost anything as long as the paycheck still comes. Once that paycheck thing stops happening, everything feels scary.
Mom (or grandma if you're my kid) has been babysitting for the past two weeks and I love it. She really is far more talented in the domestic department than I am. She cares about her meals and cooks like she means it. I cook to avoid the loud complaining from Hubby and the kids after several days of no meals. I am of German Lutheran heritage and it is reflected in my mother's cooking (not mine). Meals have a meat and a potato and a vegetable and, if you're feeling fancy, a jello mold. I don't know why German Lutherans emphasize potatoes and jello in their cooking because I don't think either is a health food, yet the jello molds and potato salads are a presence at every potluck. Manther (she's almost 4 now) hasn't seen a lot of jello molds and seemed very enthusiastic when Grandma made one. It was a very pretty orange in a white bowl and had carefully suspended mandarin oranges. Grandma put is outside to finish 'setting' and Manther added a little snow for garnish. Grandma carefully removed the snow and issued a gentle reprimand. I came home from work about this time and thanked mom and sent her on her way home. I was nursing Scoots (my 3 month old) and relaxing and I felt an unnatural quiet in the house. I walked into the kitchen and found the jello mold dismantled and assembled into a sort of orange stonehenge on the kitchen table. Mandarin orange slices were scattered in front of the orange monuments and I began to piece together that they were the 'people' and the monuments their 'houses'. I launched into the 'food is not a toy' lecture and noticed confusion on Manther's face. "But, this is Jello," she replied. I started to explain that Jello is food, but I realized I'm not convinced of that truth. So, I switched gears to 'let's not hurt Grandma's feelings by breaking her pretty things' and scooped the jello back into the bowl.

I had a baby

I guess this isn't a shock based on my previous post. On 12/4 beautiful my second beautiful baby girl came into the world and it was a pleasantly uneventful planned C section. She is fantastic and calm and easy and likes to sleep and she's a perfect fit for our family. To my great surprise, my extremely sensitive, high strung, high maintenance 3 year old loves her sister and hasn't tried to kill her....yet.
I am back at work and even that is okay. I only feel overwhelmed sometimes and I can usually breathe my way through it. I am meeting and trying to connect with moms in recovery and, although I can't say I have met anyone who can replace my 'we got sober together' sisters, I have started building some new relationships. I attended a birthday party for a friend I have in the program and saw many folks I haven't seen in years and I loved showing off my girls!!
Life is still a wonderful gift and I am happy and grateful to be here. I want to post more and maybe that will happen, but if it doesn't that is okay too.

I got pregnant

It is so sad that I haven't posted, blogged, or read blogs in eight months. I miss this part of my day. I got swept away with so many distractions, good distractions, that I couldn't keep up. Even though I am posting now and thinking I will start posting regularly again, there is a voice in my head telling me that I am not being honest with myself about the number of hours in the day and the number of directions I have split myself.
The list of good distractions includes a few good experiments and the race for manuscript preparation so we can stay funded, pregnancy in the middle of March, and somewhere between 2-3 students in the laboratory all summer with lots of needs and questions. I raced through every day and to meet the immediate needs at work and home and I don't remember looking at anything on the internet unless I absolutely needed to. Half the manuscripts are published now, although we still have two more to do in the immediate future. I am due in 6 weeks and, aside from a little diabetes, this has been a pretty easy pregnancy. The students went back to school and are here far less often. This little extra time may give me the opportunity to blog, or this may be the lull before the next storm.
If it matters to anyone reading (and it might have mattered to me if I were reading this), I was struggling with infertility and it was very frustrating. My husband and I tried more than 20 times (like two years) and the disappointments were overwhelming. We made a decision to not pursue invasive, expensive fertility options even though the fertility doc who checked us out recommended some. It happened for us and I am very glad that we did things the way we did. I am not saying we were right and everyone else who handles infertility differently was wrong, but I am comfortable with the path with took even though it was painful at times.
Hubby and Manther (the 3 1/2 year old) are doing well. Hubby is extremely active in AA and runs two meetings and is going to a men's retreat this weekend. His performance at work has apparently been great (at least in my mind) and he is now top salesman and store manager. He has a lot of pressure, but handles it well most of the time. Manther is quite a big girl now, even though she refuses to cooperate and use the potty, and seems very happy in her older preschool room at daycare. She is not happy about having a little sister, but she is a diva/princess and I did not expect gracious acceptance of a new sibling to share stuff with. She will adjust and in 20 years she will probably love her new sister.
I go to my one AA meeting and week and church on Sunday. I am not as active in AA as hubby is, but that is where I am right now and life will change when the kids get older and I will have more free time for meeting and fellowship. I get lots of phone calls in to friends and family members and I feel happy and not isolated.
That's it for now. Today I look forward to finishing my day at work and going home to delouse my child and my house after a note a received regarding an outbreak at daycare. Always something to look forward to...

Angry

I am angry today and, here's a bit of information about me that I don't share openly, I am angry most of the time. This was pointed out to me when I was in treatment and I put great effort into accepting life on life's terms and not being angry. Although this process allows me quality moments when I am not stuck in the middle of rage, I eventually come back to rage.
I really feel that my higher power did some cruel things to me and I can't shake that feeling. I was born with (and I guess I still have) a very humiliating disease. This disease doesn't cause any serious health problems and I guess that should make me grateful. I do have very pronounced male characteristics and it frequently makes for awkward and embarassing life moments. I am bearded and flat chested and quite hairy and, on more than one occasion, I have been mistaken for a man. If I had lots of free time and disposable income, I could alleviate some of the problem. HP has also decided not to give me either of these things.
I also have crappy self esteem (surprise) that my husband exploits by letting me believe that every household duty is mine. And, I mean EVERY duty, laundry, cleaning, decorating, repairs, garbage, lawn mowing, snowshoveling, paying the bills. His lazy relatives do the same thing. Is it my fault for taking on more responsibility than I should? Partly. However, I certainly would have been able to negotiate for a more helpful and considerate husband if I didn't look like a circus side show freak. I'm lucky anyone was willing to overlook the hideousness and, that's not low self esteem, that's the truth.
When I was young, I was raised in a Christian home and I believed if I prayed with a strong enough faith I would be relieved of my burdens. My prayers fell on my higher power's deaf ears and, as puberty approached, the hair growth and freakishness got worse. I am experiencing this all over again as I pray for a second child. He did decide to give me a glimmer of happiness late in life with my husband and daughter, yet he absolutely refuses to give me second child. I am a cruel experiment where he dangles the hope of happiness and normalcy in front of me like a carrot just to see how high he can make me climb before I come crashing down.
The one really useful thing I learned in treatment is that I can tell HP how angry I am in loud, colorful terms. This is the only thing that gives me relief. So, today I'm here to say, "YOU'VE BEEN SCREWING ME OVER MY WHOLE LIFE. IF YOU CLAIM TO CARE ABOUT ME, LISTEN TO ME AND HELP ME! DURING THIS LIFETIME PLEASE!!!!"

Manther grows up

It's Monday am and I really should be doing work, but I am having a little trouble getting motivated. Thank you all for your support on my last post. Things haven't improved, but I have just a little bit more acceptance this week than I did last week. We'll see what next week brings
Today I am posting about Manther because I miss her on Monday mornings. I enjoy my time with her over the weekend and she's on my mind when I go back to work. She was more challenging than the average toddler from the age of 18 months until about 2 1/2. At first I thought I had a skewed perspective on the situation because I was her mother. I knew all toddlers were defiant and she just 'felt' more defiant than average because I was so close to the situation. But, I started getting notes from daycare and they confirmed that what I was experiencing was outside of the norm. Well, we heightened discipline and that seemed to improve the situation. Now that some life rules have been established (you may not answer 'no' to everything, you do have to follow instructions, you may not climb or leap from or onto furniture, humans, or animals, AND you do have to wear clothes or at least a diaper and appropriate winter clothing outside because we live in Michigan), we can actually do stuff together rather than engage in a series of behaviors and reprimands. The bonus of having a 'challenging' kid is they seem to have an extra dose of personality and that makes for a lot of fun when they get older. Of course, it can also lead to attention-seeking criminal behavior when they get even older, but we have a few years.
Manther has still loves Elmo and her Sesame Street friends ('all the boys' as Daddy calls thems), but she has developed a second love that was unexpected given her tomboy personality. She loves ballerinas and ballet. I know this is common for a lot of little girls, but she refused to wear a dress for 12 months and I never anticipated an obsession with the pink tutu and tights. She has a couple of ballet cartoons that she adores and she desperately tries to imitate them with clumsy awkward toddler movements. I watch with mommy pride and congratulate and tell her how she looks just like a ballerina.
Last week was a rough one for her and I'm not sure she's recovered. She caught Mom and Dad in a compromising position. We didn't even know we were caught until we finished and walked into the hallway. She was sitting silently in the middle of the hallway, staring at the wall and anxiously sucking on her pacifier. My husband and I gasped and went back into the bedroom and wondered what to do. What did we do? Nothing. How do you explain that to a 2 yr 8 month old? Mommy and Daddy are playing. No you can't play, too. Because it's a game for adults. I don't know why. Do you want candy and an Elmo video? So, rather than have this stupid discussion I totally ignored the situation. She was really mad at Daddy that morning and wouldn't let him touch her, but she seems to have recovered. I wonder what version of the story they heard at daycare.

Prayers for Hubby

The title of this post sounds terrible and, no, my husband does not have a deadly disease. I am feeling so sad because he has the worst boss I have ever seen and I am watching it change him. He is becoming agitated and insomnia is creeping in. His self-esteem is being chipped away despite the fact that I am desperately trying to hug, kiss, and complement at every turn.
My husband works in flooring sales is employed at a small, family-owned company. The owner is an alcoholic ( I don't care if it's inappropriate for me to make this statement, I'm calling a spade a spade today) and has two adult sons who also have chemical dependency issues that have landed them in jail several times. Of course, their lifestyle is costly with the car accidents, lawyer fees, and the price of liquor/drugs and, it seems to be my husband's responsibility to support their habits. Every employee except for my husband and the warehouse manager have quit. I wish Hubby could quit, too, but I am not sure what is worse for your self esteem, permanent unemployment and bankruptcy or lunatic bosses? We look EVERY day for a new job. Occasionally, an opening appears and we jump on it. No calls yet.
Hubby has not missed a day of work in two years. He is scheduled for a 45 hr week with no sick time, paid time off, benefits or commission. His hourly pay is ~ $14 and hour. He does not get reimbursed for the gas or the cell phone that is used constantly in his sales position. He typically works 10 hours more a week than he is scheduled. He got no Christmas bonus this year despite the fact that he was promised one (he is a salesman who laid a floor for free in the new expanded showroom and was told "Thanks buddy, I'll get ya at Christmas). He was informed of an unpaid lay-off over Christmas and then was called back for 4 days during the middle of the lay-off. He was only compensated for 3 of the 4 days. His paycheck for the first full week of work after Christmas was $150 short. There is no real reason given for the cuts in pay. Sometimes the owner indicates sales are down, but my husband and the warehouse manager both see the books and are quite aware that this is a lie. Sometimes the owner just promises to make up the difference later. This never happens.
The one thing the owner does do is make sure you feel like you aren't worthy of the check you are getting and, despite the craziness of it all, I think Hubby is starting to believe it. I know it's a lie. On top of the professionalism and responsibility Hubby has displayed during his employment, he is averaging $30,000 a month in sales. This is the equivalent of the owner's sales and the owner makes sure to take the best sales leads and cuts prices beyond the stated parameters to make his quota. I keep assuring my husband that he is a wonderful husband, father, and employee with a terrible job. My words cannot reverse the effect of the abusive relationship and Hubby's behaviors are starting to scare me.
About two weeks ago, he told me he was wearing sweats to work one Sunday. I tried to insist this was a bad idea and I can't remember if he went through with it or not. On Saturday, he decided to shut and lock the door of the store 15 minutes early. The boss stopped by and confronted him. Hubby didn't really defend himself, but just mentioned he had another job scheduled and was in a hurry (this is the truth, he works on the side installing because his pay is crap). The owner said they would discuss it later. If this discussion would occur in a professional format, Hubby would invite it as an opportunity to vent some frustration. However, the owner likes to humiliate his employees and will wait until several family members and the warehouse manager are present and loudly point out that Hubby was trying to steal hours from him.
I love Hubby and he has grown so much in the past two and half years. I am terrified that this job will eventually enrage him to the point that he beats the hell out of his boss or relapses or both. I am praying, praying, praying every morning. Usually, I am praying out loud in the car. I am asking for your prayers,also. Apparently, God has a little trouble HEARING when I am praying alone (yes, that is my frustration speaking). Please give Hubby a better job option before the abusive relationship destroys him.

ECONOMY

Today are the presidential primaries in Michigan. I avoid the news for weeks before the elections because I become a nervous wreck after I study the candidates, realize that they are all dishonest puppets with purely selfish motives, and then further realize that one of them is going to lead this country at a time when we really need a leader.
However, I am an adult and I am supposed to vote for the candidate that I think will do the best job. So, I started reading some newpaper articles this morning and I am no longer nervous. I am terrified. I read an article in the LA times (can you imagine LA actually talking about Detroit? there's a first) that honestly outlined the economic state of Michigan. This is something the Detroit newspapers avoid. Michigan is not experiencing a recession but rather a 1930's style depression. 30,000 people left the state in the past 6 months and that number is growing. Unemployment is at 7.5% and climbing. I can't see any hope for a turnaround in the next several decades.
As I look at the grim picture, I realize for the first time how living in this highly industrialized state has molded my view of the economy. I grew up in a factory town and, when I was about 6-7, an announcement was made that the plant would shut down. It was devastating news. Thousands of people lost their jobs, packed up, and moved to Texas. I have no idea why Texas was the place to move, but everyone seemed to know they needed to go there to survive. It was sad to see family and friends move away, but the ghost town depression that remained with those of us who were left behind was worse. It was very clear to me that the ECONOMY was this big, huge thing that had all the power and it could whimsically decide to crush you and your friends and neighbors. It was very important to pay close attention to the ECONOMY so you could predict it's next move and possibly avoid that slaughter. I tried to pay attention.
So, I watched the news and managed to grasp that a recession was occurring and the dollar was weak (what??) so the government couldn't just print more money and increase spending to save us from the recession. It took a year of news and a lot of questions to my father to assemble this concept. I grew nervous because the more I watched the news the more it seemed there were no answers. I lost focus on the news and adjusted to being a kid in a ghost town. Then, the ECONOMY changed when I wasn't looking. The recession went away and a Japanese automaker bought the empty factory and the empty houses were filled. Since I had been ignoring the news, I asked my father if the situation was fixed. No, he replied. It may look better for now, but corrupt and demanding unions will continue to force the production of cars at prices that cannot compete in an increasingly global economy (what??). My father has several degrees and liked to read. The translation: the ECONOMY will attack again.
So, here it is. Another slaughter by the ECONOMY. It feels quite familiar for those of us who are lifetime residents of southeast Michigan. I am not surprised, but I am saddened and scared. And little confused. When Senator McCain suggested that we do what we should have done 25 years ago and try to recruit other types of jobs and industry to Michigan to replace the dying automotive industry (aka build stronger ECONOMY through education and diversity), why did my friends and neighbors freak out? I guess I'm not as scared by the ECONOMY as I am by the MENTALITY.

No good reason

Hello everyone, or anyone who might still be stopping by to see if I will ever post again. Thank you for the care and concern expressed in the comments after I went MIA. I suppose I owe an explanation. Maybe I don't. I guess I'll give one anyway. I don't think there is one specific reason I stopped posting. I did not relapse and I have actually gotten quite comfortable as part of the AA community in the suburbs. This is something I thought would never happen. My husband and I are still married, employed, and sober. Given the current state of the economy, the unemployment rate in Michigan, and the fact that we are both recovering addicts, these are all miracles.
I did ponder whether the blog was a good investment of my time. It certainly hasn't been a windfall financially and, if I spent my blog time researching investments and playing with small sums of money, I could probably be more successful. I opened a Sharebuilder account and I am working on learning a bit about the world of stocks and trading. I have a brother-in-law and sister-in-law who do a lot of this stuff and, don't worry, I won't invest more than I can afford to lose.
I have certainly been moody. I haven't been able to get pregnant again after a year plus of trying. We had some visits to the fertility doc and there is nothing really wrong, although some of the numbers aren't optimal. I am on meds, but they don't appear to be enhancing the process. The reality is this: Our chances of a second child are slipping away. I certainly realize that we could drive ourselves thousands of dollars into debt and try to force a pregnancy. I am terrified by debt and the cost of a second would be enough of a burden without starting out $15,000 in the hole. Not to mention, we could have multiples and where would that leave us? $2400 a month for double infant daycare? I quit my job and eliminate all our benefits? More than any of this, I won't seek invasive fertility treatments because I don't want the theories of western medicine to become my God. I believe in the power of the Almighty, if I am supposed to have a second child, it will happen with or without pills, injections, and implants.
I am sad and more than little bit angry at times, but I know that this is part of acceptance and healing. Many bloggers write to work through their pain. Not me. When the pain is great, I get busy. I clean, sort, organize, do home repairs, attend social events, and create a frenzied life that doesn't allow me time to mourn. There are many who would say this isn't healthy. I don't care whether it is or not. It is a better coping skill than getting high. I have been doing that for a few months and I am ready to slow down now. Does this mean I will actively blog again? I haven't decided yet.
Thank you all for listening. If anyone reads this and thinks about leaving a comment suggesting that I will get pregnant and I need to 'relax' or 'be patient' or, worse yet, tell me some other infertile woman's success story, please don't leave the comment. I do know that there is a chance of pregnancy, however, I am 38 and my husband is 52 and our time is limited. I really feel that focusing on acceptance is healthier than creating false hope.

The keepsake

Thanks everyone for tolerating my anecdote on poor parenting decisions. I wasted my and my daughter's evening and bought the motorcycle and she has sat on it once. She is not interested in it and I hope this has been a good lesson for Hubby as he watches $110 sit in the garage. I will never again purchase a toy anywhere but a reasonably priced garage sale.
As I've mentioned a few (100) times, my dear sweet Sis has moved to St. Louis for her husband's job (Lisa asked where she lives and I honestly don't know, some suburb, I'll find out more). She is 9 months pregnant and lost her job and is going to be a SAHM for a while. Since they lost an income and will gain a baby, they downsized their house and tried to get rid of as much stuff as possible. Well, Sis tried to get rid of as much stuff as possible. As she bumps around the house and unpacks a few boxes waiting for the baby come, she is finding that her husband did not work very hard at getting rid of stuff. Her MIL does crafts and unloads a lot of craft stuff on Sis. She hates the crafts and I can't say I blame her as they aren't usually very attractive. However, her husband saves all the special things his mother makes as keepsakes. Yesterday she called me and was demanding her husband's head on a stick. Apparently, she happened upon more than a couple boxes of bad crafts and icky keepsakes in the basement. She found what appeared to be a big, dead rodent in a bag in one of the boxes and was more than a little bit startled. She gathered courage and pulled the bag out of the box for further inspection. It was hair. Human hair. A lot of human hair. Some mothers save a lock of their child's hair as a keepsake. It appears that Sis's MIL saved a thick wad of the stuff in a Ziploc baggy. I had to laugh... and admire Sis for further inspection of the creepy thing when I would have shut the box and run upstairs.
TAGS:
family parenting mom kids parents

The boss is in England with a meager pile of data to present and I have some breathing space again. I was not able to get all the data she requested and I feel like I disappointed her, but she was nice about it (as always) and I know she is skilled at giving presentations and can make the best of it.

Meanwhile, I have evolved into something that disgusts me - the parent that goes to ridiculous lengths to get their child presents she doesn't need. We ordered a motorcycle for Manther's birthday. Amazon backordered it about 10 times and it's new possible arrival date is Sept 12th. The order was placed on April 24th and this is obviously a hideous amount of time to wait for a gift. My husband cannot tolerate disappointing his little girl with another delay. Manther does not seem to understand or care. She thinks her pink big wheel is a motorcycle and she makes motorcycle noises when she sits on it. I am perfectly satisfied to cancel the order and save $100. Not Hubby. So, I (I guess we, he does have a job and pay bills) spent $110 and I am driving 40 minutes to purchase a display model tonight. I predict Manther will be scared of it and it won't get used the rest of the summer.

Are the suburbs a disease that infects your brain? I am sure I wouldn't have displayed behavior like this a couple of years ago.
TAGS:
family home

Absenteeism

Here's some more sidewalk chalk art for you to enjoy compliments of the girls on my block.
I have hardly been posting and I am missing my blog time very much. Thank you all for the support you gave on my last post. I guess I didn't clarify that I was not the one giving the presentation. The resident in our lab gave the presentation, but I had to mingle with the doctor types during the scheduled lectures. I got frustrated because the resident did not prepare properly and his presentation made him, our supervisor, and our research look shoddy. As a result of my frustration, I called him an asshole when I was in the women's bathroom and the director of our department was in the next stall. My coworker was with me and tried to make nice conversation with the director and pretend like there wasn't a lunatic cursing in the bathroom, but there is only so much you can do to clean up a situation like that. You can take the girl out the the streets, but you can't always take the streets out of the girl.

Here's an update:

Nael - She is working her tail off for another presentation her boss will do in England in one week. The data is not coming together very well and it is making her cranky. Also, she is working long hours and this is making her cranky. The upside is she no longer feels like an outsider at her weekly AA meeting because she has to spew so much emotion/frustration at tables to stay sane that everyone feels like they know everything about her. Her sister has gone to St. Louis and this is sad, but they still stay in contact with almost daily phone calls and she is looking forward to visits. Apparently, she is never going to get pregnant and have a second baby. She could not even find an LH surge the past two months and is getting tired of mandatory, unspontaneous sex when she does occasionally surge.

Manther - She has learned where the park is in relation to the house and has a tantrum everytime we drive, bike, or walk by it unless we stop and play. When mommy is having a bad day, she has to drive out of her way to avoid the park because she can't tolerate the tantrum. A few days ago, Manther received some cotten candy from the neighbor and mommy cut her off after she had consumed generous amounts of it. When Manther found that the the tantrum wasn't getting her what she wanted, she went over to the neighbor and asked for more candy. Mommy was quite embarassed. Manther's terrible twos do have some positives. She does not have meltdowns when I leave her at daycare or with sitters and she is becoming a lot of fun to interact with when she isn't being a stubborn, demanding, little cuss.

Hubby - Hubby works all the time now. He worked 14 hours yesterday and he will work 16 today and probably 12 hours days all weekend. He has worked something like 21 days straight and I just pray he doesn't collapse. He has been cranky, but I forgive him.

I promise to check posts tomorrow and see where everyone is at. I can't make any promises about the next week, but I do know that on 7/9/7 the boss takes the data I have and I get some of my life back.

Happy 4th everyone.

Greater Than and Less Than

One of my struggles in recovery is trying to be 'right sized'. When I moved out of my safety zone and into the suburbs, my insecurity escalated and I noticed I was comparing myself to others (with a fully skewed perspective) and assigning rank. This behavior is very sick, self-centered, and dangerous. I end up being arrogant or feeling worthless and both extremes will lead me to a drink if I don't keep my thinking in check.

The people who send me into the worst spiral with this behavior are wealthy people. I am intimidated and terrified of them. When I am with them, I monitor their behavior closely. This is partially due to my need to imitate them so I don't do anything improper. But, I also keep a mental list of any character defects I can detect. I guess I feel this list somehow brings them closer to my level. Very sick. Yes, I know. I am working on it. My rational mind knows that there are lots of very decent people who happen to have comfortable incomes. They genuinely care about others and will not call the police just because an unfamiliar, low income person is in their neighborhood. However, my rational mind is often drowned out by fear when I am stuck in a real life situation.

Saturday night we were invited to the very nice home of my husband's sponsor and he is quite well off. I prepped like I was getting ready for a date. I dyed my hair, plucked my eyebrows, waxed, shaved, primped, and tried on 3 outfits. I also forced Manther into a little summer dress and had fits about whether or not she would behave. My husband will never admit it, but he was nervous, too. He was anxious about us being late and took inventory and commented on how nice Manther and I looked. I think the last time he commented on my looks was our wedding day. We arrived and managed to visit and converse pretty well, but I constantly felt like I was talking too much and I second guessed everything that came out of my mouth. We ate ice cream on the deck and then walked over to the golf course (yes, his home is on a golf course) to watch a firework display. It was a nice evening and I enjoyed the company and Manther enjoyed his daughters. But, the next day I was so exhausted from the stress of what should have been a simple evening with friends.

Today, I have to go to a series of presentations with a bunch of doctors. I am totally stressed out. I have worked with a few of them and they really have all been nice to me. Why do I let this stuff freak me out so much? I feel like I am walking on eggshells when I am around fancy folks. I have been sober a while, but I still cuss too much and talk too much and I am not exactly classy. I like classy. I have seen women who wear it well and I admire them. I think I have to be sober and working steps another decade before I can naturally be one of them.
TAGS:
alcoholism addiction 12-step aa alcoholics anonymous family

All good things must come to an end

The garage sale is finally over. Three days of sitting in the sun in front of my garage and the most significant thing I have to show for it is an itty bitty tan. It takes a whole lotta sun for me to get a tan. My costs: $23 newpaper ad, $6 balloons, $0.75 cardboard sign. My profit: $30 for general crap, $50 for dryer. So, I ended up with a $50 profit for 50 hours of labor and about 10 boxes of crap of the Vietnam Veterans Association. I don't think I will ever have another garage sale, but I might change my mind by next year. Here are the most memorable moments.

1) Outrageous 'flare' on my front lawn as advertisements. Racing flags were strung along both sides of the driveway on pylons. I had two signs with a bunch of balloons hanging off of them. One was bright green. I am sure the neighbors were hating me.

2) A nice little old lady talked me into dropping the price of the dryer from $75 to $50 She didn't know how to get it home, so we agreed to drive the dryer across town to help her. She lived in a $750,000 home in a very exclusive subdivision. I felt like a big sucker.

3) A crackhead refused to pay 25 cents for jeans, but also refused to put them back. I ended up selling them for 10 cents to get her out of the garage before things started coming up missing.

4) Another old lady tried to hustle me by asking me to make change for her $100 bill 5 different ways. Thank God I have been employed in so many crappy cashier jobs that I was onto her.

Yeah, I need to think twice before I garage sale again.
TAGS:
family home

Phobias

As I have mentioned a few times, I am trying to have a garage sale. It is taking every spare moment and even moments I don't have to spare. Today I came home from work, kissed Manther, unloaded the work bag, started chili, and rushed out to the garage to clean, price and stack. I got two feet into the garage and I heard rustling and chirping in the rafters. I froze for a second and then ran out of there and half way down the driveway. I am terrified of birds in enclosed places. The little buggers are always weaving in and out of the rafters when I grocery shop at Meijer's and it is all I can do to force myself through the produce section. The rafters in Meijer's are much higher than the rafters in my garage and I was terrified. I tended chili and soaked in the baby pool with Manther for a few minutes. I laughed at myself and my irrational behavior. It's a silly fear and there is no reason I couldn't go in there an chase that bird out. I made it three steps into the garage before terror drove me out the second time. I tried to flush the bird out from the outside. I opened and shut the garage door and I hosed down the side of the garage to make noise. It scared the bird, but instead of leaving he started recruiting other birds. He chirped and chirped and birds started swooping into the yard and perching on the fence to chirp back at him. One duck stood outside the garage and I had to run right at him to get him to leave the yard. At this point, I lost the ability to minimize my fear and I shut the garage and went inside the house to hide. I waited for Hubby to come home. When he arrived, I told him my plight and he boldly went into the garage and waved a broom around. Manther stood there with him and danced and laughed. I was scared she was going to get hurt and started to go and drag her back into the house. Then I realized Manther was safe in the garage and I was being a freak... again. The bird was chased out and Hubby and Manther clapped and laughed. I nearly cried. I can take on a lot of bugs and even an occasional rodent, but birds and bats bring me to my knees quickly.
TAGS:
family home

Giving 100%

I have been blog lazy for the past few days. We are trying to have a garage sale and it is consuming all of my free time. I am glad to get rid of all the stuff, but I am not enthusiastic about the scrubbing, organizing, and pricing. I took a break today to go the a surprise 50th birthday party for the neighbor. I wish I had stayed home.
I really like the guest of honor. He is the nicest guy and frequently does our snowblowing. He is a little bit quiet and very laid back and seems to be a great father and husband. His wife is nice, also, although she is a more outspoken and louder than her spouse. I met her whole family today and it was very uncomfortable. The host of the party was the wife's best friend and the party was populated by primarily two groups of people, the wife's family and the guest of honor's coworkers. The host seemed be working very hard and I would have expected the wife's family to pitch in. They talked about it, but rather than helping they discussed how much they had already helped. Then, the wife's family decided to start drinking (and sending children to fetch drinks, one of my pet peeves) and got a louder and cruder while the host and her husband continued to work very hard. The wife ended up leaving to tend to a sick baby and that is, of course, a priority and very valid. I was frustrated her family was partying rather than stepping up and filling in.
I am sure there are folks reading this who think I am simply overreacting to the consumption of alcohol and having a 'good time'. I can't answer with certainty, but I don't think that was the case. I have been around people partying since I have gotten sober. I am not in that environment a lot because I choose to avoid it if possible, but it has happened a few times. Am I uncomfortable in this situation? Yes, usually on some level I am. Was today's discomfort different? Yes, there was a lot more frustration and anger in it.
My commitment was short and I left quickly and it bothered no one. I am glad. And grateful. I come from a famiy where pitching in is taught early on and it's hard for me to watch people celebrate at the expense of the host of the party.

Jump!

This post is not about the Van Halen song (aren't you relieved?). It's about muppets, again. I have a deadline at work and I am working pretty darn hard right now. I came home and was exhausted yesterday and Manther's irritability suggested she was exhausted, too. Even though I knew it was a mistake, we took a nap from 6-8pm. The natural consequence of this was that Manther wasn't tired at bedtime or for a few of the hours after that. At 11:45pm I gave up and stuck her and her babies, Elmo, Cookie, and Ernie, in the bed between Hubby and I. I rolled over intending to go to sleep. Manther played nicely for a few minutes. She covered the muppets and gave them bottles and patted them on the back to put them to sleep. Then, she decided everyone should jump. She would toss a random muppet into the air and yell, "Jump Elmo" or Cookie or Ernie. I thought the quickest way to end this game might be to let her tire of it, so I tried to ignore it and doze off. But, anxiety builds in you while you are laying there wondering if you will be bombed with a stuffed animal and that anxiety makes it extremely difficult to sleep. Hubby opened one eye and asked, "Is she throwing Elmo at us?" I said, "No, the muppets are jumping on the bed." I don't know if it was genius or an effort an humor, but Hubby's response to this was amazing. He sat up and gave all the muppets a firm reprimand and told them to go to sleep. Manther was delighted that the muppets were being acknowledged as members of the family. She lined them up at the head of the bed and started wagging her finger at them and talking to them in her stern tone. I guess it wore her out because the next thing I remember is morning and Manther asleep on a pile of her Sesame Street friends.
TAGS:
family parenting mom kids parents

The courage to admit you don't know the answer

I have a 1998 Mercury Sable with 160K miles on it. During a moment of extreme poverty three years ago, we had to buy a car. The best we could do was the Sable with 125K on it and even then we had to get a loan to pay for it. The car has required regular repairs ever since it was purchased and our most recent mechanic seemed pretty good. He owned a few shops and we never saw him face to face, but he would call in the early am on the morning after we dropped the car off. He gave the diagnosis and estimate and did the work fast and we had a decent running vehicle when he finished. He recently hired a full time mechanic for the shop. The new guy just doesn't have the skills his employer does.
We dropped the car off last Friday and it had a rough idle and acceleration. The Saturday morning call from the new guy reported we needed an alternator, tension pulley, and serpentine belt. This didn't sound quite right. An alternator charges your battery, but it doesn't have a whole lot to do with how the car idles. I did believe the parts he listed were old and not performing optimally, but that was true for most of the parts in the car and I didn't believe the parts he listed were causing the problem we wanted fixed. The new guy assured us this needed to be done and so we gave in and agreed to the $500. Saturday afternoon he called to tell us the repairs hadn't corrected the problem. The problem was caused by the PSE valve and he wanted to replace it. My husband told he he wouldn't pay anymore than we already had and the new guy agreed to put the PSE valve in at no cost, but it wouldn't be done until Monday morning.
Monday morning the phone call came and the report was that the problem still existed and this time the cure would be the idle control valve. He couldn't replace it for free, but, if I picked the part up at Murray's, he would put it in for free. I said we would think about it and I would pick my car up that afternoon. It was pretty obvious that guy had no clue what was causing the problem , but instead of admit that to me he was going to keep replacing parts.
I was discussing the unresolved problem with the mechanic when I went to pick the car up because I was curious what his line of reasoning was for replacing the idle control valve. He told me his wife drives a Ford (uh-huh, um , why do I care) and they were driving to Wompers Lake, a nice lake out by Saline (get to the damn point), last summer and the rpms on the car went really high (not the same problem my car has). He told her to pull over so the car didn't blow up (I guess you have evolved high enough to have self-preservation instincts). He tinkered around and got the idle to drop, but he couldn't figure out what the probem was (sounds familiar). The next day his friend at work told him it was the idle control valve.
So, I just paid $500 to someone whose high tech method of diagnosis is to ask the hillbilly working next to him. I want to be mad. I want to demand my money back. I want to call him all sorts of names and point out what an imbecile he is. But, who's the real imbecile here? Probably the fool who trusted her car to back yard mechanic who looks like he played a mountain person in the movie "Deliverance".

Celebrities that I would marry

I mentioned something about marrying a celebrity in the case of my husband's untimely death in my last post. And, someone was kind enough to inquire about my list of future celebrity husbands. I must forewarn you that I like the ruggedly handsome, superhero, over the top macho men. Get ready to roll your eyes.

1) Russell Crowe - Australian men have got something special
2) Harrison Ford - I know he's getting old, but his machismo is still there
3) Mel Gibson - He's got a drinking problem, but he's Australian

Those are the top three. There are others I might date: Bruce Willis - macho and attractive but a little too obnoxious to marry. Keanu Reeves - very cute but might be annoying stupid. Anthony Kiedis - so very, very hot but he has been living the lifestyle since he was young and I think he's damaged (the poor dear). If you're thinking that there are no recent celebrities on the list, you would be right. I have been living with very little TV or celebrity news since Manther was born, so I might have missed some serious hotties that recently entered the scene.