Santa puked and I feel like doing the same

I feel like it took me forever to decorate for Christmas this year.  I even changed up the routine; Put only the main tree out after we returned from the tree farm.  Decorate it.  Sweep up. Relax. In years' past I tried to get it all done the day after Thanksgiving so we could all enjoy it as soon as possible and as long as possible.

But my new plan left all of the other stuff to do after I had already worked my 40 hour week:  The kids' tree, the mantel, the other odds and ends Christmas that goes up.  Christmas in just about every room - two trees, Christmas mugs, magnets on the fridge, mini trees in the china cabinet, decorated pillows, wreaths and pinecones...And I started stressing it.  Too much Christmas.
 

I just don't feel Christmas.  I haven't for the last three years or so.  I know that is bratty beyond belief - we have a beautiful home and it smells good and is clean, with indoor heat and plumbing, enough food in the fridge and freezer, clothes to wear.  I just dread the commercialism and materialism and stress the holidays bring.  I want to make it more meaningful.  Somehow, Santa doesn't do it for me.  And there are Santas and angels puking all over my house.

My daughter and I had a convo about it.
Me:  There is too damn much Christmas here.  I am toning it way down next year.  Going to give some of it to you to pretty up your place.
She: Christmas is good.
Me:  Yes.  But I feel stressed.  We own so much of it.  Every year I purge it.  Every year it seems to grow by itself!
She:  Oh that's no good.  I decorated my tree as I waited for the AT&T guy on Monday.
Me:  It's a lot to put up and take down.  We decorated the kids' tree and I. Am. Done.
She:  Santa puke is pretty.
Me:  Blergggggg

I mean, I love seeing all of the things that remind us of happier times, but maybe that's what's doing me in.  Seeing those things and realizing how different our lives are now.  It's not that our life is bad by any means, but there's something about having your kids grow up and the whole family, parents included, experience Christmas a lot differently.  And the reality is, all of the decor is just noise that drowns out the focus of the season itself anyway.

I need to relax a little and try not to stress it, I know.

The last time for a while...

This is the last post I will write about my sister for a while.  I feel like I am harping on her, and really, I don't wish it to be that way.  I've actually been remembering her in my prayers this week as I have come to the belief that she is having a very hard time in life, and I feel sad about that. But I feel like she took it out on my mother.  Know this:  as people age in physical years, they tend to regress somewhat emotionally.  It's altogether too easy to hurt my mother's feelings, even if unintentional.  But why would you purposely do so?  Why would you state to her "I'm coming to get you", drive 2 hours to take her to your house, then spend the next three weeks getting even with her for what you see as a craptastic childhood?  Tell her you are "getting tired of being the maid"?   I know she "zingers" you - I've had my fair share of it, too.  But if that's a problem for you, don't volunteer yourself for that, for goodness sake!

My mother doesn't cry all that often, but lately she's been telling me she cries every day.  That makes me want to call my sister and have a serious talk with her.  Of course I won't, though.  Maybe I have it all wrong and Mother is the instigator here.  There's a lot of she said/she said - who to believe?  I think it's best I stay out of it entirely.  What I really want is for God to look after them both and help us all move past the past. Maybe help them be a little more understanding and kind to each other.

Where it stands, a year later

Please enjoy this pic of my sister from about 6 years ago...

 Back then she was so thin.  You could cut yourself on that chin, for real.  Always very stylish and well dressed, hair and makeup, the whole nine yards.  It's something I always admired about her.  She was very feminine and put together, on the outside if not the inside.

I figured it would be a while before I saw my sister again - heck, I thought it would be at someone's funeral.  I figured she would at least acknowledge me the next time I saw her.  I was at her house recently to pick up my mother and got there a few minutes early.  My mother answered the door, not my sister.  My mother said "Have you seen Melissa's new house?" and showed me in.  My sister stood with her back to me, making a sandwich in the kitchen.  {I'm guessing she was trying to get that done before I appeared.}  She answered one or two questions from my mother without turning around to face us, then gathered up her plate, said she had to get back to her desk, and beat a hasty retreat without so much as look at me.  But here is what I was struck by:  I wasn't even 100% sure it was her, at first.  She was thin, but not painfully so.  Her hair was very short, very thin, and white.  Had I seen her in public, I'm not sure I would have recognized her.  Aside from that, I got the very real feeling that she is done with me forever.  She couldn't put on her game face and say hello, even in front of her mother.  It felt strange to me, maybe because for all of these years, she's done just that - pretended like she and I were close, when that was never really the truth, at least for her.  So, at that moment she felt like just another person to me, and I was ok with it.  And, I guess this is where I will leave it - for now.

Conversations with Paige

Paige is my husband's niece, so mine by marriage.  She was in her mid-twenties when she was "found down" in her apartment, after having a stroke the day before.  It was such a scary and terrible thing for her family, devastating for her parents.  My husband's sister, Sharon, devoted herself to caring for Paige, all the while losing a battle with breast cancer herself.  Very bad things can happen to good families.  None of us are immune from life.  Anything can happen, any time.

Paige still uses a walker and doesn't have a lot of muscle control on one side of her body.  An aspiring photographer and A student once, days from graduating with a great future ahead of her, the road sharply curved.  She's lost so much, and she suffers still. But every now and again we will have a delightful conversation via text messaging and I say a prayer for her continued health and piece of mind.

 
Paige                                                                                                                   Me
{first day}
Raining???

Yes.  But still hot.  Ugh!

Shit...
Sorry..
Rain,
Sorry.. Sorry.

{next day}

Yeah, its raining right now.  I don't want to get out of my car and go to work.  I could just fall back asleep here!

I love you!!

We really need to get up to Dallas this Fall and spend time with Paige.  

Wine about it

On Sunday we went to Wimberley Valley Winery, since Mark was so kind as to stop there BY HIMSELF and enjoy a tasting and commit us to another wine club.  Grr.. 

Every winery we visit is so pretty inside.  This one had painted stucco walls with ceramic tile work and gorgeous color everywhere, plus scented candles going and a stone fireplace with big leather couches.  I guess the atmosphere helps them sell wine.  Plus, everyone is always so friendly.   Or maybe it just seems that way since it's always a fun outing for Mark and I.

And this time we brought Spencer.

Getting edumacated at the cigar bus

I know he looks snarly, but I really feel like he enjoyed himself.  Not just because of the wine - I hope he also liked the one on one time with his parents as an adult.  For all but 20 months of his life he's been surrounded by siblings.  And a lot of his teenage years he was at odds with one or both of us as we struggled to get him to buckle down at school, manage his finances, and make healthy choices.  It took us a long time to realize that your kids basically come into this world with their own unique personality.  And you cannot mold them into what you want them to be, nor force upon them what you wish for yourself.

Spencer had some missteps along the way - all a part of the learning process, but still I wish some of it hadn't had to happen the way it did.  He was the kind of kid that learned by doing and making mistakes.  And I still worry about him being broke or living in a crappy apartment or not having a close group of buddies or a steady someone in his life.  He's 26 1/2.  By that age I had been married for a year and a half.  I know it's unreasonable to compare and my peeps are on their own timetable, and I accept that, but I still worry about their future happiness, as I'm sure all moms do.

We enjoyed our picnic snack of cheese, salami, peppers, salmon dip and crackers out in the leaky double-decker bus, since the picnic tables were sopping wet.

Not as beautiful as the inside of the winery, but but pretty fun to sit up there and listen to the rain.

Then we headed over to Fall Creek Estate Winery for a last minute tasting.

Hidden back there is a beautiful stone building with lush terraced landscaping, fountains, and outdoor patio and wrought iron furniture.  So beautiful.  I don't think Spencer loves visiting the wineries as much as we do, even as he is learning what kind of wine he enjoys.  

He actually does smile.  Really.

Maybe we shouldn't be taking him with us every chance we get, as there's a lot to be said for having time as a couple without your grown kids!  But I believe he enjoys being with us, enjoying a bottle of wine.  And I'm still hoping he will craft a life for himself a little apart from us - it's the hardest thing in the world to push your kids a little bit further out.

More grip loosening

On Friday, feeling sorry for my wee boy who goes to band camp all day, I did about 10 loads of laundry, changed his and Dylan's stinky sheets, and ran the vac in their rooms.  Mind you, this was on my day off.  I could just as easily been sipping iced tea spiked with vodka at the neighborhood pool, getting some sun on my fat, old lady legs.  But NO, I was caring for my family and trying to HELP them.  As a co-worker likes to say: "What tha?!..."

Hello, Monday and the room is back in its natural state

 

As often happens, my idea of helping is more like enabling.  So, I'm thinking, thats got to stop.  Coming home from work on Monday I noticed that Grayson had still not put up his laundry.  From Friday.  The boy has no job.  He spent the entire weekend laying around in the a/c, God love him, not reading his AP English class summer reading assignment, nor working on his badge work for scouts, nor putting up his laundry.  So now, I feel a little annoyed.  I was planning on having him drive home each day this week from band camp, then taking him to practice parallel parking then taking him to get his license.  But today that did not happen, and to tell you the truth, it may not happen at all this week.  His failure to organize his clothes, his schoolwork, and his life should not create an emergency (nor a problem) in mine.  The Baja can stay parked in the drive indefinitely, it's no skin off my nose.  And you can strike laundry off the "I'm sorry, let me help make your life easier" short list, which already doesn't include making his breakfast and his lunch, since I kept seeing half eaten meals thrown away.  IN ONE YEAR he will be a college student.  In LESS THAN ONE YEAR he stops getting allowance so he will need to figure out a way to earn money.  Other wise he will eating his favorite snack, ramen noodles, for his three meals a day.

Actual ramen being eaten by said person

 

Holy Shit, why is the last one so hard?  I figured with Spencer I had walked through fire, with Chloe I had paid my dues, with Dylan I had dodged a bullet.  God has a wicked sense of humor in store if you go ahead with that fourth one...

So many changes

Seems like only yesterday...

People spout that phrase a lot.  And it's true (or seems to be) that while we are busy living our lives and making it from one sunrise to the next sunset we are caught up in daily life and before you know it, a whole slew of days has gone by.  A few weeks.  Months.  Years.  And after a while you might look up and think  "How did all this change occur?  Where was I when it was happening?  I'm not sure I'm on board with it."  I've said before, change is hard.  But that's a simplistic understatement that doesn't comfort anyone.

Struggle is optional, and I get that, but it's almost impossible not to struggle against things you don't want.  They're going to happen anyway, and you know it, but by struggling a little I think we all think we can slow the process.  What happens is, we make the process even harder to bear.

Things I didn't want to change this year, but they damn well did anyway:

My cat dying.

Friends at work leaving for different shifts, or just leaving altogether.

My role at my job.

My weight going up.

My hair falling out.

My kids moving away from me.

My husband hating his a job, then getting a new job, then being unhappy at the new job.

******

I guess I could continue listing shit I'm not happy about.  But that wouldn't make me feel better, and that's a little like struggling helplessly instead of finding ways to improve things.  I'm going to continue working on The Plan for Living, because its giving some order to my life right now.  Plus, it helps distract me, a little, in a more positive direction.  And also, I feel like I need to pull back from some of the people and things that are adding to the stress of the change. Its either that, or speak my mind to them and offend them forever.  I wish I could find a way to be authentic without creating more stress or problems for myself.  Maybe I will work on that next...

The vertigo begins

About a month ago I had an expensive and drawn out experience in the ER.  And while I would like to say it was a colossal waste of time and money, it did rule out Big Bad Things.  Like stroke.  And heart attack.  But I felt a little foolish the entire time, as I was in a pediatric facility...

You can't pick and choose when and where you are going to need medical help.  Had I been at home, I would have opted for a family member to take me to the nearest adult ER, and give me a ride there and back, not rely on my overburdened co-workers to check in on me and bring me my stuff.  And, I would have chosen a bit more anonymity instead of everyone at work knowing I was in the ER.  It just so happens I had already scheduled an appointment with my regular doc the following Monday. 

She took one look at my medical record and said  "Well, looks like you had the Million Dollar Work-up".  And that was true - they ordered everything under the sun.  But I was in no position to refuse care.  As my nurse said,  "you're already here and you made us pretty nervous." 

Of course, my doc was not concerned with my symptoms.  So, now I have head and eye exercises, as well as "habituation exercise" to do daily, an incidental referral to an ortho doc for my tennis elbow, and I guess a little more piece of mind, with no extra pills to swallow.  But I'm sure when the bills roll in, I will feel a little ill all over again...

Life-changing magic

I read this book lately, as a gift from a friend.  And, as the book suggests, I made lists.  Wanna see them?  Sure you do.

Things I may or may not give a fuck about:
Keeping my house clean
Facebook
LinkedIn
Politics
Instagram
Reading the paper or watching the news
Exercise/walking
A healthy diet
My weight
Sports
Trying new foods
Church
Other people's opinions
Getting a pet
The state of our backyard
My blogs
Wine
Watching TV

People I may or may not give a fuck about:
Mother
My immediate family
The rest of my siblings
Neighbors (except for Joe and Carol)
Scout parents
Strangers at the store or pool
The bimbo who works the register at Old Navy
Donald and Hillary

Work-related stuff I may or may not give a fuck about:
The position I applied for (what was I thinking?)
Office gossip
People calling out
Departmental meetings
Students
PACT
Preceptoring
Parking
Raises
"Meeting our numbers"
Other people's drama

Family stuff I may or may not give a fuck about:
In-laws
chopping down our own Christmas tree every Friday after Thanksgiving
The yearly family photo
Stressing over holiday cooking
The kids' tree
Scout obligations
Going to church on holidays, or any day
Anything related to my siblings or half-siblings 
Spending time with my kids and Hubby
Planning vacations
Helping my kids to learn to be independent

******

That was a fairly interesting exercise, and since I have read that book, I find myself asking the question more often  "Do I really give a fuck about this?" before wasting a lot of unnecessary mental energy.  It's definitely a work in progress.

On taking care of me

Hits and Misses on my continued quest to take better care of me.  Misses:

Hits:

Drinking more water

Drinking less alcohol

Eating more veggies

Eating less fried foods and fast food

Walking more often, getting to the pool to exercise

Making meditation a regular part of my routine

Feeling better about work and life

******

Not "everything in moderation" anymore.  

More like "make the right choices more often, the bad choices rarely, if at all".  

Why is that simple thing so hard to do??

Positive interactions

There might be stressful things happening, but they don't define my every day.  Some nice, affirming things that have happened at work for a change:

 Roses where I work

 

*I stop into Dr. X's office to "hide" while I was waiting for my boss to meet with me.  She says I can come in a hide there any time.  She pauses at her work, and without turning around says "Gina, I really like working with you on the weekends".  Then I sit there some more, admiring the artwork that her two small kids have decorated her office with.

*I was in Walgreen's and see Dr. Y standing in an aisle so naturally I say,  "well, hello there!".  She responds, "Hi!  Are you going into work today?",  then she makes small talk with me, smiling all the while.  I didn't even think she would recognize me outside of work and she was very warm and friendly.  It occurs to me that maybe people outside of my department actually think well of me.

*Lastly, the chaplain at work emailed me to say she had been thinking of me and remembered me in her prayers.  It almost made me cry - so nice.  And it's true that I have felt a little better about my work situation with each week that passes.

*Another day, I see Dr. X and note that we are "twinsies" since we both have on the same scrubs.  She stops to spend time chatting. I tell her what doctor I had been working with and that he was unpleasant.  She says she doesn't understand why being a doctor makes anyone think they can be snotty to anyone else.  "They're not perfect, they're not God", she says.  

******

I think I've given too much power to people who don't have my best interests at heart.  I think that's slowly starting to change for me, and it's a good thing.

Roll with it

Mark wanted me to cross stitch him a saying that he hears a lot nowadays:

Just roll with it.

For him, it means just acknowledge the changes, adjust, and move on.  I wish I felt as philosophical about it as he does.  Nevertheless, I try to remind him often that things have to change to get better.  {Probably I should stitch that snappy phrase...}

And, although I like to cross stitch more colorful phrases, that wouldn't do for his office.  I can't have his boss and co-workers thinking I'm some sort of weirdo.  Besides, it will good for me to have a distraction and keep me busy.  You can't drink and stitch, so I guess its helpful.  As long as I have something constructive and creative to do, I feel better, anyway.

I pulled out my bag of thread, leftover from the days when Chloe was in 5th grade and she would make friendship bracelets with her buddies on sleepovers.  Those were the days, right?  I also have a small sewing box from the 70's full of thread that some child likely spent hours winding around empty thread spools.  I always look for that kind of stuff when I go thrifting.  I have enough thread now to last me through a few years of cross stitching.  There are lots of bright reds, pinks, and blues. 

It took me a couple of days to complete while he was out of town. 

I popped it into a cheapie IKEA frame and had it ready for him to take to his office when he got back from his out of town trip.  {I also got all of his suits and pants dry cleaned and kept the house from burning down while I simultaneously held down a job.  I'm a keeper.  maybe I should apply for a job as a personal assistant}

Then I sat on the floor in my bedroom, sorting the thread, unspooling it, saving the wooden spools, recycling the rest, and tidying up my stitching bag.  For some reason that all made me feel sad.  So I boo-hooed a little, then got back to my task.

****** 

I'm ready for happier, less lonely days and not so much change.  For feeling confident and content as I go about my work day, with work buddies I can rely on, and a boss who values my contribution. Learning new things and making a difference to other people.  That's how it used to be for me.  I'm not saying I was the World's Best at what I do for a living, but I am mindful of doing my best as I go through my day.  And I looked forward to going to work - I like what I do and where I work.  Why can't it be that way again?  I don't want to live in the past, but why does the present have to suck?  

Oh dear.  I guess I need to get busy on another project.

Happier Hours

Hubby and I have discovered that going out more often helps us reconnect and get away from jobs and "kids".  Well, truth be told, both of us have always enjoyed a drink.  Or two.  But nowadays, we can afford to do that more often - both time and money-wise.

On a recent Friday we visited a wine bar in Round Rock and enjoyed some wines by the glass with a goat cheese appetizer....goat cheese, pecans, raspberry chipotle sauce.  Delightful!  And the atmosphere on their outside deck was lovely - lots of shady trees and not too crowded.

Then it was off to Jack Allen's Kitchen where we indulged in Red Handed Smash and Grabs, a Pomegranate and Basil Martini, and my favorite drink of all time...

 

...the Mexican Martini.  Lest you think we drink too much, I might add that we also ate dinner and that these drinks were spread out over three hours. Maybe we are catching up from that period between Baby #1 and age 17 of Baby #4 where we pretty much never went out.  We didn't have grandparents or available babysitters, and money was always tight.  Our priorities were vastly different then than they are now.  Maybe old age is creeping up on us, but we aren't going to slow the Happy Hour roll anytime soon.  In fact it's a regular thing for me to ask "where are we are going this Friday?".  As long as I can make it to work on Saturday hangover-free, I think it's a good thing.
{Hence, the limiting of alcohol on the Plan for Living...}

Here we go again...

So, a couple or three years ago my sister and I were having one of our daily one hour phone conversations.  Frequently we would chat about Mother - one of the only things we actually had in common.  I remember we were saying that it was very hard to call Mother when we had a problem - she's one of those people who doesn't soothe you.  It's always been this way.*

I remember saying "Unless it's about her garden or chickens, she's not really interested".  My sister agreed, and at the time I thought that we had an understanding that our conversations were strictly between us, not to be shared.  We had agreed upon that, in fact.

Well, I was wrong. 

 The next time she spoke to our mother she told her "Gina doesn't want to hear about your gardens or chickens anymore".  

I cannot in any way, change the dynamic between my sisters, my mother, and myself.

 And yet, I want to have adult friendships with them.  I always wanted to help and I think my intentions are misunderstood.  Because you cannot make someone's life better by giving them advice and offering help they do not want.  

That nugget took me 55 years to learn.

I really thought that we could all move past the "past" and find some common ground, but all that does is reinforce the differences.  

In a phone conversation every now and then, my mother will avow that I said or did something that I did not, and I will think, "Oh. A sister is at it again".  

And when it comes up I always feel blind-sided.  No matter what I say, Mom will not let go of that misinformation.  Because she wants to believe that what she is told is the truth.  

It reaffirms what I have chosen to do for the past few months.  What I really miss is something I never really had.  And sometimes you don't get closure.