How I want it to go down next year

So, at the end of the Christmas season at my house, I felt a little blue....no, actually a lot blue.  Drinking wasn't really the issue - but I think a few more glasses of wine and a lot less whine might have been a good thing, Martha.

I think maybe part of it was I wasn't living in the holiday spirit - I was in the stress out about money and stuff spirit.  You know, like all this "stuff" I am buying and wrapping and hiding is causing me stress due to the sheer amount of it, coupled with how much it's all costing at an already pricey time of year.  Losing sight of what was really meaningful and important to me.

 And frankly, I lost sight of keeping myself healthy both inside and out.

And so already I am making a list for myself at how I want it to go down next year.  But I'm not ready to blog that list yet...I am slowly putting it together so I can really give it thought.  Because Christmas SHOULD feel different to me.  I really believe it should.  There should be a lot more happy, a lot less unhappy.  That's reasonable, right?

The downward slide

The state of my bedroom, pre-Christmas, stressed me out.  UPS exploded at my door, and all of the packages went back to the bedroom.  MY bedroom.  That, on top of all of the other crap going on lately at Camp Rustown  makes me want to plot my escape from my own house.  

Remember this story? 

I know I said last year that I was looking forward to Christmas shopping in the stores, but I started feeling like I could get so much of it done on-line, and for the most part, I paid no shipping fees.  Plus, I had 5 people to shop for. Mainly. And a lot of the things my peeps expressed interest in could easily be found on-line.

However, things arrived on top of each other, faster than I could go through them, until one day I had to haul it all out of my closet and sort it, wrap it, and list it, so that Mark and I could compare our lists and make sure we were done.  Every year it seems to get more complicated.  Maybe because our "kids" are older.  Maybe because we have more discretionary income to put towards Christmas than in years' past.  Maybe because instead of keeping it simple, and doing four of something, I instead painstakingly put together stockings and gifts that are as individual as the person themselves.  And Mark really gets into it, too.  He really thinks about each kid and what they could use or would like.

But for some reason, the ever-growing pile of STUFF precipitated a slide back into the blues.  I know that the holidays are famous for that.  I realize that I'm in good company when it comes to holiday-induced depression.  And realistically, I know that in a few days' time, it will ease up, and be back to business as usual around here.  February brings a new house note, new truck payment, new insurance policies, and tuition due for Dylan at ACC.  Plus, a whole new year of medical deductibles.  And I have no doubt we will be able to manage all of it with careful planning.  But that doesn't do a thing for me right now, while I am in the thick of commercial holiday stress.  I really...no, really...want to escape to Australia.

Can you hear me now?

About three years ago, I got sick.  Probably strep or some other viral thing, who knows. It couldn't have been enough for me to be concerned with at the time.  I was probably busy with work and life and did my best to manage my symptoms.  I don't really remember.   If I ran to the doc every time I got the sniffles I'd have an even bigger problem, called Hypochrondria.  But shortly after that, I noticed I had tinnitus.  That kept getting louder.  And I finally went to see an ear doc.

His take?  "I wish you had come to me sooner I could have helped you."

I can't even tell you how pissed that made me feel - it's a wonder I didn't tell him to eff off.  I came to see him at the height of the tinnitis, and I doubt that even a couple of weeks before that he could have done much, or even known what to do.  Tinnitis can have a myriad of causes, and can come and go.  He actually had me get a brain MRI to make sure I didn't have an acoustic neuroma - which I did not.  A year after that, when my symptoms had not improved and I noticed I was saying "huh?" a lot, I had my hearing checking again.  BIG hearing loss on the right.   I waited a year or so and had it checked again.  No change.  

Sadly, I have come to grips with having permanent hearing loss. 

Fast forward to now.

See it?

I now have bionic ears.  Hearing aids on both ears, although I'm not sure whether I will keep the one on the left.  It's been a few days and I can tell you it's been quite the adjustment.  I can hear my husband breathe.  I can hear the wind chimes in the back yard with the door closed.  I can hear the tiny beep coming from the house alarm system.  And I can hear the cat lick herself sitting next to me.  Some of these sounds are more disturbing to me than helpful, but I am pushing forward with this.  Only time will tell if this is a big benefit to my daily life, or just another hassle.  And meanwhile, I'm trying to look at it much the same way one does when told they need glasses - get them and move on.

I'm not ready

Hubby had a near miss with being laid off recently.  That's about the only way I can wrap my thoughts around it, since he's still going to the office every day and working late hours, not to mention Saturdays, too.  His boss is apparently not sure whether or not to fire him.  Meanwhile, "work your ass off, please".  At the end of December a decision is to be made.  Hopefully, Hubby will have moved on to greener pastures by then.  Because he's been a stressed out mess. And the whole thing royally sucks.

Meanwhile, he is focused on retirement and what we will do.  Thinking about it all of the time.  Talking about it all of the time.  Generally, making me angry and annoyed because I am nowhere near ready to retire.  I don't want to.  At all.

He had us buy more life insurance and wants to set up a meeting with some woman who is a retirement specialist.  I could give a rip roaring fart about it.  Not interested at all.

If you're thinking of retiring at 55 and you aren't a wealthy philanthropist, you're an idiot.  Sorry, but really.  You have at least another 15 years of life to give to an organization, in some scope.  And there will be bills to pay.  You might as well buy your plot and casket if  you're going to retire at 55.  And let's not even discuss how being in the same house every day all day is not healthy to a couple.  Not this couple.  There's a reason we need to get up and go to a job every day. 

I don't even want to think about retiring.  Not interested.

Relationship roadkill

So, it's been a  little over three weeks since my sister and I had a conversation via texting that led to her telling me she was tired of my hatefulness, and  go away, and me blocking her number.  Not my finest moment, nor hers either.  But it is what it is.  Here's how it went down.

 Thanksgiving, 2010
Only the expression is real...

Mother calls me being grouchy and unreasonable.
I rant to Sister, who empathizes.
Hubby gets notice from his boss that he was either going to be let go immediately, or he could sign a paper agreeing to the impossible and be let go in a few weeks.
I rant to Sister who empathizes.
Sister calls Mother and tells her my business.
I call Mother, expecting to be able to talk with her about it, only to be shut down because she "already knows".  
I ask Sister if she told Mother my business.  Hours later, Sister replies yes.
I ask why.  Sister says that Mother was still fuming over the "grouchy and unreasonable" conversation she had with me, and Sister thought that by telling her I had troubles it would make Mother feel better. (that's messed up)
I text that I would have preferred to talk with Mother about this myself.  Sister informs me that the world does not revolve around me, says she's tired of my "hatefulness".
I reply:  "Bullshit, as usual".
Aaand...that led to where we are now.

I am irritated, mainly with myself, for believing that my sister and I could actually have some sort of friendship but that is an unattainable goal.  I thought that deep down, she really did love me and wants the best for me.  I guess I can't share my private life with her.  I never envisioned a future where I was without grown siblings I could count on.  It feels very sad.

Going, going, gone

The Lounge.  AKA the spare bedroom.  My sewing and craft room.  Hubby's second office.

Empty again.
Although I do still see Spencer from time to time, as he needs a haircut or a sammich...

Only time will tell how long it stays this way.  For sure Chloe will sleep in here at Thanksgiving, and Christmas, too.  I managed to get Spencer to take the futon to his apartment.   I think I will probably add a daybed and a table to sew and craft on.  Too much empty space at this house is not necessarily  a good thing for me...though I am glad that at least two of my people are out making it on their own!

Pardon my French

I might have said, in the past, that I would clean up my potty mouth and try not to cuss so much.  But I sometimes find it to be cathartic; it helps me blow off some steam.  And really, a colorful sentence enhancer seems to get my point across, and if nothing else, it helps me feel heard.  But I bet a few of those near and dear to me wish they couldn't quite hear me so loudly.  Cross stitchin' instead of bitchin' is a good idea, I think.

A lot of times I struggle with feeling positive and loving and uplifting and all that crap.  Instead I feel a little stifled, irritated, moody, and dissatisfied.  I have people and things in my life I love and can count on, and many blessings, for sure.  So, I just have to assume this is normal and possibly leftover from this Spring, and it will pass.  I think when the season changes and the holidays get closer, I will have a lot to focus on and maybe that will occupy my thoughts in a more positive way.  At least that's what I going with. 

****You know, I wrote this post a couple weeks ago.  Things are getting better - they are.  I'm trying to move my mental energy in a more positive direction.  Stay tuned.****

I warned you I was going to keep it real...

In a recent convo with my mother, she told me that the previous day she had mowed her yard, and all the while wished me ill will.  Now, I'm not one to let something strange like that pass.  I mean, my mother is 85, a fact that she likes to remind us all of quite often.  But that doesn't mean she's not in her right mind.  So I asked her exactly why she would take the opportunity of mowing her grass to wish me ill will, to which she replied "you'll understand when you're 85".

Ok, so I have two things to say about that.  I could say more, but I don't want to harp on it.

1.  If you don't want to mow your own grass, why did you buy a $1200 riding lawnmower?  (And for that matter, a double size lot.  To retire on.) How about you sell the lawn mower and hire a service?  If you have money to hand out to one of my grown sisters every time she cries that she is broke, you can afford to hire someone, even WITHOUT selling the mower.  After all, said sister is the one who talked you into buying the thing to begin with, telling you she would come mow for you. 

2.  Have you asked for my help with this?  Every time I visit I ask you what I can do to help you.  You never have a list of things I can do, even though I ask you every. single. time. to put one together.  The last time Mark and the kids came with me to visit you, you put us all to work raking and mowing.  He accidentally backed the thing into your fence, then spent an hour or so running to the lumber store and repairing it.  It is an unsafe piece of equipment that is devilishly hard to drive.  And instead of thanking him, you ridiculed him and in general, were ungrateful about it.  And yet you continue to say that you need a teenager to come help you take care of your yard - the same grandmother who is not interested in her grandkids at all and lives a three hour roundtrip away.  My family doesn't want to visit just to be your yard slaves.   I don't feel like that's the only thing they should get to do on a visit to grandmother's.  Spend some time with them.  Get to know them.  Yardwork not included.

If I have to listen to how it's hell to be 85 just one more time... I'm sure its challenging for her, but...     Please Lord, don't let me turn into a hateful and bitter old person.

I'm entitled to own them

People like to counsel you for feeling the way you do if it doesn't mesh with what they feel, or how they feel YOU should feel.  I find that to be offensive.  I mean, I own my own feelings, right?  However ugly they are, however they don't serve me in my quest to find some peace, they are still here with me.  I guess they will be until they aren't, and not much anyone can say to me will make them go sooner.  So, I appreciate it if you want to make me see the error of my ways - but I see it myself already, and I'm working on it.

And come to think of it, why do I have to hurry that process?

Things to stress about and look forward to

I'm trying my best not to let things overwhelm me, and sometimes that's hard to do.  The heat is slacking off a bit, but the humidity - UGH.  And, lately it seems like there's plenty to stew about.

Identity theft on my Capital One card yet again

The start of the school year

Car repairs

Chloe moving
Chloe's crunched car

Sugar continuing to puke

Spencer coming to stay with us until his apartment is ready 

My mother taking in an unsavory houseguest
...and her declining health

Hubby's health, my health

My dying landscaping
Marching season

Grayson's  grades
My stressful job

Finances

My estrangement from my sister
Worrying about the future...

Such is life, right? I refer back to my notes from the therapist when I feel the sads coming on.  I remind myself how great my life is, because it truly is.  I pray a little.  Do the hypnosis thing to relax.   I really need to get out there and exercise some, and I will, but probably only on my days off.  I've been working on some crafty projects and trying to reconnect with friends and family.  I am done with the antidepressant med, so it will be important for me to stay on top of things. 
Fall is coming - there's a LOT to look forward to.

*photos from Canyon of the Eagles, Burnet, TX

Donating blood

Donating blood is something I do about every three months or so.  I have since age 18, though there was a period there where I was doing the plasma thing in hard economic times.  Like when I needed gas money in college.  But happily, that is not the case anymore and I can freely donate whole blood.  I have many reasons, including that they frequently bestow flowers on me in the "cantina".  Here are some other reasons, in no particular order:

*It's free to do and I can
*I'm basically healthy and I can help some who maybe is not
*By donating, I atone for being a grouchy mom, distracted spouse, estranged sister, and less than stellar friend
*It helps me with my ladder points at work
*Free snacks, ice cold OJ, and a crossword puzzle to work on while I rest after my donation
*Friendly conversation with like-minded people
*I forget how much the finger stick hurts
*It's a built-in excuse to eat a BIG lunch and take a nap.

Have you ever donated blood?  I guess I've gotten used to it, somewhat, so it doesn't make me nervous at all.  Besides forgiveness for some of my failings, it actually benefits me, too.  It's like a confessional of the body, no?

That guy

Spencer came to stay while his new apartment is being made ready. I hate that he had to move again, but such is apartment life in Austin - expensive and inflexible.  I'm glad we were able to help him out a bit.  For the most part he is navigating life on his own, holding down a job and living in his own space.  Doing his own laundry and such.  Which means he's cut the cord with Mom and Dad for his daily life.  But we are glad we could be here for him.
All that is good.

He seems a little down sometimes.  He works in the heat, so I'm sure it's draining all the way around.  I hug him and he doesn't pull away, which is a change from his teen years.  I kiss his scraggly beard and tell him I love him.  I want the best for him.  He's a really nice person.  And I think we did a good job with him, overall.  This one took a while to launch, you'd think I would be used to it by now.

Sugar's update

It's been about three weeks since the cat pulled a doozy on us, eating string and having a liver infection.  She is healing slowly but surely.  On her first check up she has lost a little of weight on her scrawny self, but her appetite is good, her litter habits are good, and we are continuing on with the antibiotics.  The vet wasn't particularly worried since she had been through a lot with surgery and all.

She's been keeping a very low profile, sleeping on the floor of my bedroom during the day, and right next to me at night.  There's been a lot of petting and purring going on.

Her sexy old lady cat belly scar will eventually be covered in fur and all of this will be a distant, yet terrible memory.

Summer goals revisited

 The last set of goals were:

*Stop with the wine.
Greatly reduced

*Practice better oral hygiene.
Yup - doing this, too.

*Take my vitamins without fail.
Well, getting better at this - but I'm not 100%.  I hate swallowing pills.

*Drink more water.
Trying!  Doing great at work, just need to do the same at home.

*Eat more veggies, less crap.
Yup - Hubby and I are definitely doing this. He's trying to lose weight, and I may as well, too.  I have drastically scaled down the amount of red meat we eat, and added in fish once a week.

*Work on getting things finished.
OMG - I got the blinds done.  They arrived and look GREAT.  Why does it take me so long to get something done when I really want to do it?  It's a mystery.

*Master the stairs.
Well, this one got sidelined a bit when I strained my knee doing yardwork.  So, it's on-going.

So that was early Summer.  Here's what I want to do for late Summer/early Fall:

*Get a bike and start riding it a couple times a week, keep working on the stairs
*Text my sister more often
*Plan our 30th anniversary weekend
*Keep up the healthy habits above
*Start another project around the house and see it through
*Visit The Girl and my mother a couple of times before Thanksgiving.

The morning Hands Off

I'll be the first to admit that it's hard to stop doting on your kids.  You want them to be self-sufficient, but you also want them to be fed and clothed and cared for.  It's a balancing game that you shift little by little with each passing year, until they are taking care of themselves and can make their own way in the world.  Which is not to say that you can't be there for them when they need you.  Because, duh, you're the parent.  Even so, you wait for them to ask for help - you don't just swoop in and rescue.  Or, rather, you shouldn't.

This summer I have been letting Gray get himself up in the mornings, make his own lunch, get his water jug filled, etc.  This is in stark contrast to last summer when I babied him through band camp mornings.  The problem with doing too much for him is that he doesn't have to bother to remember things, stick to a schedule, and manage his affairs.  What I thought was helpful wasn't really helpful.  Hence this summer being drastically different.  So this summer, I am free to drink my coffee, sit on my rear, and let baby bird learn to fly.  Hands off.

Sugar

I don't even know what to say about Sugar.  I'm just so super stressed and down in the mouth about it.  She got up into my box of embroidery thread and ate a good long chunk of it.  Then puked bile and about half of the string.  When I pulled on it, it wouldn't budge.  So I knew it was deep.  Shit. I was going to "wait it out, give her some vaseline, see if she would pass it.  But two vets told me over the phone that I better bring her in pronto.  So, I did.  It was the right thing to do.  But $2000 later, I wonder if it would have been kinder to euthanize her.  She's 11.  Has been dropping weight.  And the vet says her liver looked strange.

So as of this writing, I have a senior cat recovering from major abdominal surgery, a huge Capital One bill, and a full-time job, so I cannot babysit her, nor can I afford to board her.  And I just want to bring her home, so she can sit in my lap and be told sweet things.  Because I made a promise to care for her when I adopted her.  And she's my cat.

This sucks so bad.

Bound to happen

There is always a point in the summer where The Girl becomes hard to live around.  Nothing I can do or say will be right.  And Dad, only marginally.  And everyone here invades her space and makes too much noise.  And let's not even mention the bathroom. The up side to that is that brothers tend to get more attention.  Like somehow she is trying to balance the scale.  {About the only good way to get a smiling pic is to steal it from FB.}

Not because she does not love ALL of  her family.  I think it's because she chafes to be at home.  Then when she gets used to it, summer ends.  She will have to once more say goodbye. And this summer will be particularly hard at the end because she is officially off on her own. She's already stressing summer finals (today), getting her car repaired, maxing out her credit cards, finding an apartment in Houston, and getting enough studying in for her CPA exam.  I get it.

But I wish she wouldn't freak out. 

Tired

When I first got back to work, I felt ready.  Somewhat rested.  Mentally prepared.  Physically able.

 Not now.

I feel super tired now.

My energy level is being thwarted by more of my peeps being at home most days, which always leads to more things to do when I get home from work, not to mention days off.  Yes, I delegate.  But there are some things only I can do.  And I have a problem in general saying no to requests for Mom Help, anyway.  I think "the tireds" are a combo of summer heat, and just plain old doing too much.  I'm scheduling in FUN time for Hubby and I.  It's the times we go out for dinner or Happy Hour.  We call them Bitch and Moan sessions.but its always nice to have someone to bounce things off of. 

It'll get better.  It usually does.  Fall will come.  I can't wait.

Imperfectly functional

 I'm getting better at not obsessing over my lumpy, bumpy, still swollen left knee.  It's functional.  I'm happy about being able to walk, truly.

 Every time I asked about the swelling the PT bit my head off.  And the nurse and ortho doc said don't sweat it.  But it's been 8 months.  How long does it take anyway?

It's not a huge difference, but still.  It's there.  If I mash around on it, it isn't firm.  So, I know there's fluid in there.  It doesn't hurt when I walk. But when I go to the pool to work it out, I can make it hurt, just by exertion.  Maybe that part will always be with me.  I don't know if it's related to the swelling or not. I'm not really sure where the pain originates from.  Arthritis?

I know I should be focused on other things: mastering the stairs, for example.  And walking confidently in flip flops or heels.  I'm not trying to be vain about it, I'm just wondering.  

My knee works.

I'm not in constant pain, though it will stiffen up if I sit too long.

I should be happy it all worked out, I know.

It's just that it was hell getting to this point, and I think maybe I shouldn't focus on the swelling, the scars, the loss of strength.  But to get it back to looking normal is closer to perfect than imperfect.  

Is 'perfect' reasonable?  I feel annoyed about it.