Feeling bratty

I'm sure Mark is about done with me at Christmastime.  I returned a bunch of stuff he bought me.  I argued with him about how much we were spending.  I pestered him about what we were getting whom.  I never set a budget and I overspent on him.  I took down some lights that he spent about 30 minutes wrestling with to get up.  AND I announced two weeks before Christmas that I was over it. And by the time it happened, I actually did feel over it.  And yet, it was a really good Christmas with my peeps.

I don't know what to say in my defense that doesn't sound bratty.  Christmas seems to be getting a little less magical each year and now I can understand why my mother has gotten to a place where she refuses to celebrate it. This year, the things that brought me joy weren't the things you could buy.  I made a couple of gifts, which was fun.  A few of us watched a few Christmas movies.  I got to visit an old friend and my mother - both nice visits.  Mark and I took a break and went to wineries that were festively decorated and happy places - super fun.

Way back when, when we were going to church on Christmas Eve it was nice some times, stressful on other times, and we decided to drop it.  But maybe we should find a way to add that aspect in again, without going to a church we don't belong to, where we know no one, and going through the motions while internally wishing it was a shorter service - cause that's what happened.

And maybe I need to do an attitude check here and jot some ideas down for next year.  'Cause I sure don't want a repeat of a bratty Christmas.

No more trotting

Last Thursday, Mark and Chloe and myself all got up early, laced our tennies, ate a bagel, and headed to downtown Austin for the Turkey Trot, a 5 mile walk/run on pavement through the hills of downtown and across the Mopac service roads.  Did I follow my usual "training" of walking my neighborhood several times weekly?  No.  Did I get myself some new tennies since the old ones are at least two years old and about done?  No.  Um...did I prepare for it at all?  Also no.  But I made it through the course in a little less than 1 hour 41 minutes, without stopping to pee or rest.  And I even beat my peeps back!

But walking 5 miles after you spent the previous day on your feet probably won't help you feel your best on Thanksgiving Day.  Then standing on your feet some more to make side dishes and get the dinner ready won't, either.  It's not like I'm a spring chick anymore. {58} And when I went to bed I thought "Man.  I'm really bushed!"  

But I had no idea just how tired I was.  

The next day, as I looked down at my feet during the hay bale ride out at the Christmas tree farm, I thought "I really don't want to walk.  Or stand.  Or do this.  At all."

And the exhaustion hit me like a ton of bricks.  It wasn't just the walking, though that certainly couldn't have helped.  My energy level was so low.  I really felt like I was fatigued from the bones out.  Mark said he had no idea what that meant.  

Of course he didn't.  Of course not.

But I knew it meant I had used up all of my giveadamn and I had no more to give.  And the rest of the weekend was like swimming with my boots on.  And I don't swim.

Getting the tree up and decorated sucked.  Loading and unloading the dishwasher about 6 times also sucked.  Wrangling the leftovers.  Doing laundry because we were out of clean towels. Putting a pork roast in the crockpot because we couldn't eat turkey for the third day in a row.  Helping Mark harvest some oak up at Highlands.  Sweeping a pound of pine needles off my floors.  Decorating the kid tree.  Buying groceries.  Getting myself ready to go to work on Monday.  All of it was just. too. much.

I really need to learn some limits with myself.  It seems so much harder nowadays to get it all done, even when I get volunteers at home.  

Or maybe I just got off on the wrong foot with the damn Turkey Trot.

One thing is certain - I am NOT doing that next year.

Panic gardening

All summer long I have wanted to get the yard in shape.  All summer long I harped on Hubby to please get the sprinkler system working so our grass would stop dying.  All summer long I planned to thin out the lariope in the front beds.  To paint the front door.  To powerwash the bricks and steps.  To GET SHIT DONE.  But it was always too hot.  Or we had limited time.  Or I was on call.  Or we had weekend plans at Highlands.  Loads of excuses. Finally, the sprinkler system was repaired and turned on.  Too little too late, of course - our yard practically died.  And one day when I got home from work (on a Tuesday...WHY) I found that Hubby had gone ahead and gotten started on removing the shrubs in the front in advance of me planting anew.

OMG.  It looks like crap.

The rain has been unceasing on the weekends, which is the only time I have to work on this.  There is mud everywhere.  There is topsoil washing down the driveway from the lawn, which is now mostly dirt with some scragglers of grass here and there.  The acorns are dropping so we also have crushed acorns everywhere.  Plus, he left the stumps so there is that task to attend to before I can:

*Finish removing all the lariope

*Rake the beds of leaves and excess mulch

*Till the beds and prep for new plants

*Re-mulch

*Powerwash and paint

*Care for the lawn, or what is left of it

I feel a little panicky about it because it looks so awful.  Walking up to my house every evening I feel like crying.  It's like an abandoned house.  If it ever stops raining, I will work on it for one full weekend just to catch up.  Day off be damned.

Money, marbles and chalk

Mark had a saying when we were newly wed - he'd sigh and say "money, marbles, and chalk" when we had money woes.  Money always seemed to slip right through our fingers on the way to Debt.  I  assumed the saying meant "using everything you have to make ends meet" and I was mostly right.  {it's actually the opposite of rags to riches}  Its been awhile since I've heard him use that particular phrase, but I recalled it on Tuesday when we had the dishwasher repaired to the tune of $225.

Home repairs are usually something we can do, but replacing a drain pump in the dishwasher isn't one of those.  I guess it was cheaper than replacing the whole darn thing, but it greatly annoys me that it had to be done as the thing is only about 3 years old.  We are hell on our appliances, for sure.  We've gone through two microwaves, three dishwashers, two stovetops, an A/C unit, 4 coffee pots, and  2 toaster ovens since we've lived at Rustown.  Sometimes I worry about what we will do, out in the country in Burnet, fending for ourselves and arranging repairs when we are old and gray.

What overwhelm feels like

My mother is having a tough time hanging in there after she totaled her pick-up.  To say we are worried about her is an understatement. She has a horrendous purple bruise that extends the width of her abdomen, exactly where the seatbelt kept her alive.  It is taut and has a knot on it, causing her pain when she moves a certain way.  Another on her breast is draining down towards her nipple.  She's shaky on her feet, cries easily, and says she doesn't "feel like herself".   At one moment she'll be stubborn and unyielding to offers of help or advice.  The next, she's crying - confused and frightened like a child, saying she wishes she could hide in a closet.  I feel a little overwhelmed with this as I'm sure she does, too.  I've never seen my mother this unstable, even after Jim died. 

A week after the accident I arranged to spend the day with her.  My plan was to clean off some spaces in her kitchen - I felt like it was key to her not losing so many things.  This bill, the driver's license, those keys...it's hard to stay organized with so much clutter.  I took "before" photos, assuming I could help make sense of her space.  But as the day wore on, the feeling of overwhelm paralyzed me.  This would take much more than a little cleaning and decluttering.  And she needed to be taken grocery shopping, to the bank, to the library...the afternoon slipped away.  What was I thinking?  I could straighten and clean all day, but in the end, if she isn't willing or able to maintain it, its all for nothing.  So I wasted time I could've spent just sitting and talking with her that I will never get back.  The feeling of overwhelm takes you out of the moment, unable to change direction easily.  Like swimming in mud with boots on.  I want to do something that will fix the situation, but sitting there in the midst of all that clutter made me realize how futile that is.

I think my sister is on overwhelm, too.  She keeps coming up with scenarios that are sure to cause both she and my mother much pain and unhappiness - her overwhelm manifests as panic.  My half-sister is also feeling the effects - Mother snapped at her and instantly she shut down, effectively limiting her ability to help.  And probably damaged their relationship. 

A truck accident that had everything and nothing to do with us has defined our future interactions with our mother and each other.  And the side effects are that we have each lost some of our problem solving and resiliency.  

That's what overwhelm feels like from here.

Insomnia

I've been trying not to rely on bendryl or Alka-Seltzer Plus Nighttime to help me fall, and stay, asleep.  The downside to those meds is that they make it hard for me to wake when my bladder is full.  Also, I wake up a little groggy in the morning.  So, I've been skipping them and it has led to me waking up multiple times at night.  Last night was no exception.  Weird dreams, waking myself up (!) with snores and hearing noises, getting up to pee twice, hearing someone (who?) running into a table.  Apparently Hubby heard that noise, too, and was up looking around.  It freaked me out a little and I could not fall back asleep.  That was around 4 a.m. and I was WIDE awake.  By 5, I just gave up on getting any more sleep and got up.  I made a cup of coffee, threw some things into the dryer, and settled in at my computer to read emails and such. 

By 7, I got up from my desk and unloaded the dishwasher while I perked a pot of coffee.  By 7:30, Hubby was up so I packed him a lunch and washed his work pants for next week since it was jeans day.  I also got my lunch and tote bag ready for the day.  By 7:45 I made the bed and straightened the bedroom.  By 8 I had the guys' Saturday dinners prepped and ready.  So I packed my weekend bag. 

At 8:45 I had Friday dinner done, cooling on the counter for me to cover it and put in the fridge.  Reloaded the dishwasher. 

By 9 the kitchen was clean and mopped. 

And by 9:20, I sat down with a leftover piece of pie for breakfast and typed this up.

I feel like a long day is ahead...and I probably need to figure out what I can do to get better sleep.

Looking forward to homebody time

As much as I love hanging out with Mark on the weekends, traveling to new wineries and such, getting a snack at Sonic (or just eating out in general), laying in the sun at Highlands with a cold drink, grilling on our hill...I sure miss those days of hanging out at my house.  I used to spend my days off getting a multitude of things done AND still having time to be creative.  I look around the house and while it is clean and such, there are projects - creative projects - I want to work on.

Doing a little decorating/spiffing, sewing, painting, reading, gardening - I don't seem to have a lot of time for nowadays.  The issue is: he's off the same days I am now, so I don't fill my free time with those things anymore.  And I miss all that.  Everyone needs a little unstructured time to putsey and do what they need or want to do around the house.  At least I do.  So, I am a little grateful for on-call weekends since I get to be a homebody, chained to my pager or home phone until 7 p.m.  Plus I earn a little extra, especially if I get called in.

Not that I don't love to have weekends free to go and do.  I just relish the homebody time, too.  And theres one coming up so I'm getting my mental list all ready...

Nature almost struck

*playing the Sneaky Snake song in my head as I type this.*

Coming back to Highlands after dinner one Saturday I saw a snake just disappear into the barn, right across from the door to the trailer.  Dammit.  "Snake" I yell.  "I think its just a rat snake though".  Mark:  "Oh yeah?  Where is it?  You mean this one in here?  RATTLING it's tail and coiling up like it's about to strike?!"  Yeah, I guess that's the one...

Ten tense minutes, much yelling at Mark not to get bit (from a safe distance over by the truck), and a sharp hoe blade later...

And Mr Snake met his untimely end.

In the morning, the body was gone, but the head remained. 

 *shiver*

I'm just not in the mood for all this nature.  It's their land, not mine.  Their ecosystem.  They know all the hiding places and have the best defense weapons. We are the ones who allowed the mice to find a cozy home in the barn with the damn birdseed.  Mark and I are sorely outnumbered.  Possibly outsmarted.  And holy hell, I'm not in the mood to retire to Snake Hill.

Happyish

Part of being a body who experiences anxiety and depression is that it's hard to realize when you are starting down a dreary path.  And so, in the midst of life happening, its hard to see the happy things.  So I am choosing to pause and think about them..in no particular order:

*A day off and a large bucket of popcorn at the movies 
*A quiet house first thing in the morning, with killer A/C and a coffee pot gently perking
*RAIN.  Lots of it.  I can hear my fig tree sighing out there, as well as the lawn.
*All my peeps seem to be on even keels.  I would love for a couple of them to make progress in certain areas, but I am happy that all of them seem to be going about their daily lives in mostly positive ways.
*Mark and I are on strong financial footing and he enjoys being back at his old job.
*My elbow tendonosis is gone.  My back doesn't hurt.  My eye stopped watering. My nails aren't peeling. And I'm drinking lots of water so I don't feel dehydrated.
*We get to take Chloe and Spencer to Bell Springs on Saturday.  We will have a fun lunch, nice wine, listen to good music, enjoy the outdoors.
*I took some of my JA jewelry in for cleaning and repair and that always makes me feel like I am getting new bling!
*I only work four days this week, and since I picked up extra hours on Sunday for overtime I get to work with an old friend and a new one.

******

Just typing that list made me feel better.

Hopefully still a good cause

About 6 months ago, one of my sisters and I decided that in Mother's best interests we would pull together to keep closer tabs on her.  We would inform each other of visits and how they went.  We would each pick a day of the week to check on her.  We check in with other for news of Mother - what we can do to help, how she is getting along.  All of that is positive, and makes me feel like we are putting the important shit first.  But when the old feelings come to the surface - I start to wonder if  I made a mistake.  

I'm aware that I sound like a crazy person sometimes but there is history.  I don't want to play games. Life is not a race for first place.  I know my mother loves us both, and I am happy to do what I can for her, and even happier that I have at least one other sibling out of six that is on somewhat the same page.  It's not about me, I get it.

I wish things were different.  But they aren't. Not yet.

Getting 'er done

Last week I took Friday off just to get a break from work and accomplish some things on my To Do list.  Funny thing about that list, it never seems to be completely done.  I get a whole lot crossed off and it magically grows back.  Now, truth be told, I'm the one responsible for that.  Sure - I could toss the list and go on with life.  But I actually like caring for my home and my fam.  

gyro plate! 

Plus, on those days, I tell myself I will eat a great lunch.  So here was The List this go-round:

Drop off items at Goodwill
Go to REI and buy cooler
Vac the car out
Pick up grocery fillers
Move the BBQ grill
Move firepit to garage
Re-connect the landscape lights
Copper spray the Lantana
Go buy door paint
Sweep garage and breakdown boxes for recycles
Move the Sugar stone
Go buy earrings
Go to bank and deposit contents of change jar
Repair fallen downspout
Paint and reattach hose holder
Rake around dumpsters
Pack weekend food and clothes
Do a pedi
Change sheets in guest bedroom and vac it
Sewing repairs
Prep dinner
Make lemon jam

 Member, Clean Plate Club

I was actually a little tired, and after eating my gigantic lunch I felt like a slug.  I got some other odds and ends done around the house and called it a day after supper.  So I guess my list is just going to keep growing, but that's OK.  I will continue to try to get 'er done...another day.

Tom

 My brother in law passed a few weeks ago.  Tom, married to Mark's sister Sharon. 

 

At Mark's college apartment, 1984

 Thought they were technically old enough to be our parents, we thought of them as just slightly older than us since they were young at heart.  Sharon and Tom took me under their wings and made me part of the family. 

At Mark's college graduation with his aunt Aagot and Uncle Ken, 1984

 Visiting us at our first apartment in Austin.

 At a UT football game - one of Tom's passions.

I was never all that close with Tom - he was a reserved kind of guy - but Mark was, and since I loved Sharon, I thought of Tom as family to me, not just to Mark.  We visited them several times in Dallas while we were in college, then when the time came to marry, Mark chose Tom as his best man.

 The Best Man, 1985

  Once we had a couple of kids, we weren't seeing them often as they lived in Dallas and we in Austin.  We were poor, working full time, had our hands full with small children.  And by the time we had Baby #3 and Baby #4, we had gone through many changes in life.  We drifted from them and their two kids, who seemed to grow up in a blink .  Fast forward to 2015 and Sharon passed. A hop, skip, and a jump, and Tom followed.

Tom and Sharon, with Bryan and Paige

I started writing this post in a disgruntled state of mind, and maybe I feel that way a little, still.  While you have your hands full raising a family and trying to get further along in your career, you tend to drop the people and activities you had earlier because you run out of things: time, money, interest.  Sounds terrible on our part, but that works both ways, of course.  They sort of ran out of interest for us, too, while they were busy doing the same things. And suddenly we were all much older, and they had health concerns.

Tom and Sharon at Rustown, 2012

I'm sure both of them had some warm and fuzzies for us, but we were separated by so many things.  And it was apparent  this last weekend at his funeral.  It was a long drive, but no one asked or expected us to stay overnight or spend any one on one time, connecting as a family. ("Ya'll could make a pallet on the floor..." is what we were offered)  I felt less like a family member and more like another funeral guest.   I'm not sure how Mark felt about that, but he remarked that it was the end of an era - in fact, the era had passed long ago.  

I know a lot of folks want to give you advice to the effect of telling the people you love that you love them and spending more time with them while they are alive, but it doesn't always work out for that to happen.  So for now, I will hang on to all of the happy memories and speak their names with love.  They were an important part of the early years and I grieve for all that is lost.

Loyal

You could argue that of course Mark should help my mother in any way, seeing as he IS her son-in-law.  I don't think that's necessarily correct - it's not his job.  Sure, my mother has been plenty generous to him over the years and she is friendly to him,  glad to see him.  But this is the same woman who asked me if I was sure I wanted to marry him, because after all, Gina "you are a pretty girl".  In the background was my sister, bobbing her head in agreement.  I guess I've always had a stubborn streak, because I ignored them and went on ahead with my wedding plans...and over the years my mother has softened a little, as she has come to know him.  But that doesn't mean there weren't some rough spots.

She was hyper-critical of him when he refused to be the administrator of her will, opting out to protect our little family from my angry siblings in the future.  And she roasted him over the coals pretty good when he broke (and immediately fixed) a picket in her fence by running into it with her riding lawn mower.  Recently he accompanied me to my mother's house and did the jobs I couldn't do:  rebuilding an asparagus bed and getting her computer up and running.  Prior to that, he has done many other similar odd jobs involving either yard work or home repair or computer work or insurance assistance.  His mother is long gone, and yet he continues to treat mine with respect and love.  She doesn't love him like she loves me.  But she should.  He's the son she never had.  A good husband and father for the last 33 years.  A kind and generous man who loves me no matter what and will never let me nor our children down.  Someone who will come to my mother's aid someday, if she requires it, and always encourages me in my moral responsibility to her.  A loyalist on all fronts. 

I hope someday she gets the chance to tell him how glad she is that he is in our lives.

Dream feelings #2

Another restless night, another very freaky dream.

So many twists and turns and seemingly unrelated images.

My mother came to me about something she left at a doctor's office. Some sensitive medical information.  The doctor had it and I had to retrieve it.  Turns out it was a string of sorts, but information.  Then it becomes more substantial as I look at it - it was made of cloth - a shirt?  Multi-colored plaid and woven,  with what I think is decorative stitching coming out.  Mother seems distressed about it.  As I am trying to hand restitch it, I realize I am doing a poor job and must start over.  It becomes a dress, Mother disappears.  I need to finish it as soon as possible because one of my kids needs it for a field trip they are going on in a few minutes.  Hurry!  I get on the school bus to give it to my kid - turns out it is Grayson and he is small, maybe around 3 or four.  The bus is going to NYC.  The principal is telling everyone that they cannot go to a big store or someplace that she promised them, so the kids are standing in clusters around teachers, being comforted, including my kid, although I am still on the bus as it is pulling away and the bus driver will not let me off.  I don't have my purse or phone or money or even shoes.  I am pleading with her to let me off, but she won't stop the bus.  She says she can't because there is someone tailgating her.  I am suddenly in the back of the bus, poking my leg out of the open back, pushing on the car behind us.  Its a delivery truck and the driver of it is just starring at me.  There is no glass in his windshield.  I am screaming stop the bus!  But it won't, and no one is listening.  I start sobbing and place my hand on my stomach to steady myself as I cry.  But I realize the hand is not mine - its the man that is driving the truck behind us, and he has reached into the bus.  I push his hand away and the bus arrives in NYC.  All of the kids clamor off the bus with the teachers - we have arrived at the place that the principal said  they weren't going to - surprise!  I never do connect with Grayson - off he goes with someone else.  I am standing in a room of teachers - no kids - the principal is like some kind of ceremonial person conducting what?  A meeting?  She is wearing a turban and flowing clothes.  The dream ends.

******

So much despair in this dream.  Images of losing things.  Being someplace I don't want to be and ill-equipped to deal with it.  Rushing, trying to fix things, not being heard.  I feel like I barely slept last night...what a way to start the week.

Getting there

Things aren't all that different at work lately, but maybe I have turned a corner and am seeing it all differently.  I still feel like there are people there who shouldn't be there,  and I still feel like we are losing people that we shouldn't lose...but more and more I also feel like I should settle down and fly under the radar.  Stop complaining and venting about work altogether - at home and at work.  Find more joy in the day.  And busy myself with what I am supposed to do to make myself more effective and make the day go smoother.  It's definitely a work in progress type thing.  Sounds overly simplistic and in reality, is challenging as hell.

 Hallways that stretch into foreverrrrr at the end of a long day...

When I walk to the timeclock every evening I want to be able to say I did my best in all things:  in how I related to the customers I served and in how I interacted with my fellow employees.  I want to say I didn't spend time dwelling on the past and am moving confidently into the future.  I want to make the most of the time I have in this profession, at this place, and say I was successful.  I definitely don't want a small, disappointing slice in time to define how I feel about all of that.  And I also don't want anyone else to be responsible for how I feel about it all.  And I am starting to feel like I am getting there. 

Poopin' out

On-call weekends aren't the worst, really.  It means we stay close to home and in my case, have the potential to make a little extra money.  Sometimes it means I get a bunch of stuff done around the house.  More often than not, it means Mark and I go out to eat at least once...Yes, I drank a margarita...don't worry, they are so light on alcohol its like drinking a Slurpee.

On Sunday I worked 6 hours, then met him at Chuy's, followed by a marathon 3 hour nap.  That never happens!  In fact, I often tell him that I wish I could sleep at the drop of a hat, like he does.  But I felt so sleepy driving in to work on Sunday morning, after having worked Monday through Saturday.  Then I stayed up until 10 p.m. to enjoy dinner and visiting with Dylan and Michelle.  I thought I had gotten plenty of sleep, but we were fairly busy at work on Sunday and by 1 p.m. I was out of gas. Add to that a giant Mexican lunch and I was struggling by the time we got home.  I didn't even bother changing out of my scrubs.  I just flung myself onto the bed next to Teddy.  I was awake at 6 p.m., but it was all I could do to stay that way until bedtime, so I don't know what was going on - maybe a bug?  Just tired?  I skipped dinner and was asleep by 9:30, but on Monday I felt a little worn out still.

It's going to be a long week if this keeps up.

A resolution we both can work on

Hubby has been stressing his job situation recently.  Actually, it's less of a situation than he imagines it to be, but telling him that does absolutely no good.  He makes a very decent wage, is charged with creating something that he was fully aware of before he started, and given tools needed to get it going.  But still, he stresses. And truth be told, there is a lot of pressure to get er done. Every time I hear him express it in the negative, I try to get him to rephrase it.  

But its a habit thats hard for him to break.
 

To counteract that, I told him that our intention for the New Year had to be something we place all that excess energy into.  And Highlands seems like the right place.  The list of things we need to do out there is long, and some of it is pricey, but we have to start somewhere.  I feel like during the long hot months all we did was manage not to die of sunstroke up there.  But winter is here.  The trash is easily seen.  Time to get that trailer we talked about, look into a tractor, get some big trash piled up, the weeds mowed, a dumpster planned, and more plans made.

This past weekend, we staked off where we thought the house should go, and it was an eye opener.  I looked back towards the space we had sectioned off and imagined my new house sitting there, with its windows and big porch all along the front, its oak trees shading it, its metal roof, and its natural stone siding.  I want to get to work.  I think that moving our dream a little further out of the backs of our minds and into the light will help us intentionally set it in motion.

So that's my New Year's resolution!

Time to get it going.