Fuctionally Dysfunctional

So here I sit, trying to start a blog.  I guess the first question is, why am I starting a blog?  Well, it starts with my therapist.  “Oh, you’re in therapy?”  Yes I am.  My title says it all, I am functionally dysfunctional.  On the outside, I look fine, on the inside, I’m a mess, which goes back to my therapist and why I am blogging.  She told me I need an outlet.  I have a lot of anxiety and a lot of times my mind runs and then I do things I don’t need to do, like online shop.  She also told me I’m hilarious, that my comments about things are really funny and why not share them?  So here I am.

A few things about my blog before I get started so you can understand what I am doing here and why.

• I am an open book.  This blog is for me to share anything, my thoughts, my feelings, my good days, my bad, whatever is on my mind, I am going to speak it.  You may not agree with me, that’s okay.  You may love Starbucks and leggings, that’s okay to.  I don’t by the way.  Its okay if we don’t always agree, we can still be okay.  If you are someone who is easily offended, don’t be offended by me, just don’t read.
• Sometimes, I cuss.  Yes, like most adults I throw the F bomb out here and there.  If I am typing and a cuss word slips out, so be it.
• You ever watch hoarders and instantly feel good about the state of your house?  Well, here I am for you to watch and instantly feel better about the state of your life.  My dysfunction is for you to feel like getting up today and putting matching socks on is a win because most likely, my socks don’t match and I have a hole in my underwear.
• I am not looking to make profit off anything.  I am not the next funny blogger or Scary Mommy or whatever.  I am just Lynn, looking for an outlet.
• PLEASE share my blog.  Just as much as I am not looking for a profit, I AM looking for readers.  If no one reads, I wont write and I will end up ordering that 3-D printer I saw on Amazon that I will never use but will be cool to look at when I open the box.

Most of you most likely know me.  If you are one of the fine people who shared my blog and now someone new is reading it, Thank You and Welcome!  I will share a little bio about myself before getting started.

My name is Lynn Summers.  I am 37 years old and I live in Southwestern Lower Michigan.  I have been married for 14 years (in September) to my husband Scott.  If you know Scott, he is a man of few words.  He is a truly wonderful guy, a HUGE blessing to me.  I really think he married down, he could have done much better, but he really loves me for some unknown reason.  I mean besides being amazing (I really love myself sometimes).  But seriously, he is an amazing husband who loves me for who I am.  He also is the husband who I get mad at because he’s so responsible and he’s a 90-year-old man trapped in a 38 year olds body, but I need that responsibility or I would be hanging out in a ditch somewhere drinking some vodka.

Scott and I have three girls together.  Lyvia is 12 years old and she is her father made over.  I say how’s your day, she says fine.  I say, how is your life, she says fine.  I say, your hair is on fire, she says fine.  Lyvia says few words, but she is a great girl.  If you listen closely, she will mumble something that is hilarious, she has my sarcasm.  Lyvia also doesn’t follow any crowd, if she likes it, she does it and if she doesn’t, she wont do it.  There is no peer pressure in Lyvia’s world (which she wanders around in with a smile on her face).

Our daughter Lilly will be ten years old tomorrow.  Lilly is me reincarnated except a little messier.  Lilly LOVES Lilly.  She has enough confidence for our house and the next ten households.  Lilly says when she walks down the hall, the sky opens and the angels sing.  She is very amusing.  She is also my biggest challenge because she is so much like me and I get so frustrated because I DON’T want her to be as dysfunctional as I am, but I’m afraid that ship may have already sailed.  At least she will have a lot of things to talk about to her therapist.

Our daughter Lucy is three years old.  Lucy is an odd hybrid of all of us.  She is very naughty, but very lovable.  I think that’s due to the fact that at my age, I have just given up.  I admit it, I’m tired.  Most of the time Lucy is naked, running around doing something she’s not supposed to and eating a cookie.  I will share a lot more stories about Lucy as time goes on.  I figure even though we are pretty lax with her and kinda given up, she’ll be fine, and if not, she will have a lot of things to talk about in therapy when she goes to a joint session with Lilly.

Scott and I both work for a Nuclear Power Plant.  I will tell you what I do, but you won’t understand what I do because no one understands what I do.  I am a Corrective Actions Analyst and I am the Operating Experience Specialist for the site.  Impressive, right?  Sure, let’s say it is (it’s not).  Most days, it’s stressful.  Some days its not and on those days I get in trouble for dancing, doing jumping jacks, spanking myself, giving inappropriate hugs or singing loudly at my cubicle in cubicle land.  MOST days I spend the day arguing with tons of employees over why they have to do this or why they have to do that or what does the procedure say or oh my god I need some vodka to wash down this bad taste of your annoying ass bitching at me.

Scott is a nuclear security training supervisor.  I never knew what he did until I worked here.  I still don’t know what he does.  It seems important, he’s really smart at what he does, but that’s all I know.

So the kicker to this is that our jobs may end in October 2018.  Not sure, it’s back and forth, we have a lot of decisions to make.  Truth be told, we don’t have normal jobs so we don’t make normal money.  To basically be told you may BOTH be without those jobs and that money in a year-and-a-half, it creates a ball of stress so large sometimes I crawl under my cubicle and rock myself while I breath deep into a bag.  This is not true.  If I did that they would call me for fitness for duty and I would have to pee in a cup.  What I do, oh, I go shopping online because who doesn’t need that self cleaning cat litter that’s all the rage (I don’t own a cat, but I’ll take two).

So there you have it.  My intro, my blog, my rules, my opinions for your amusement.  Share, please share, comment, like, do something, help me out on this journey to find that my dysfunction is okay, that I can manage and that I am like the rest of you.  I promise it will be amusing.

 

 

Normalizing Grief

Here I sit, April, the most dreaded month of my life. Its beautiful outside, the sun is shining, new life is blooming, it smells like spring and I’m in a basement, wanting to find a place to crawl deeper and deeper. My mom died April 23, 2018 at 6:00 am. I can close my eyes and I’m there. I can hear the hospital sounds, I can hear the nurses working on a patient in the next room of the ICU, I can feel me running out screaming and people grabbing me to say goodbye. Right now I can hear it and feel it all, every hour of every day three years later. What I can’t hear? Her voice, her laugh, her comfort. I can’t feel her hug me, I can’t smell her comforting smell, I can’t see her out walking across the field. Right now she feels like an imaginary friend I made up for years, because no matter how hard I look, she’s just not here.

If you just read this paragraph and you think it is time I get over it, please, get on your knees and thank God you haven’t lived this because unfortunately, you will someday lose your person and you will know exactly what I am talking about and time will help the wounds, but you will come to a day/a month/an event that will throw you into a loop of living that you would do anything to get out of.

So, here I sit and dread, knowing that every day this week and next is coming on the day I dread the most, reliving the worst day of my life. Looking back on the person I was before and the person I was after. There was a Lynn with a mom and a Lynn without a mom and those people are different. Since I can’t go into anything just halfway, I have dug into my grief journey and others grief journeys to understand it. Grief is so complicated and it takes different shapes and forms for everyone. It reminds me a parenting in an odd way. We all do it differently, there is no roadmap or pamphlet. There’s no roadmap in grief that tells you that at this point, you will now feel angry or on this day, you will wake up with a smile. No one tells you that grief makes you feel guilty and ashamed. Guilty that you are happy sometimes, guilty that you are suddenly crying because a thought popped into your head, ashamed that you’re not “doing enough” to move on.

We do not move on from grief. We move forward with grief. I saw a TED talk a few years back where a woman explained it this way and it was 100 percent true. If you did not know me and met me today, you are meeting Lynn with grief attached to her, that in place of a mom, she has memories, and grief. And its not something that Lynn will leave behind eventually, it will carry along with her until the day she dies.

I feel we need to normalize grief. I feel we should not be embarrassed or ashamed to talk about our grief or even to say yep, I’m having a hard day today and not feel like the other person is thinking (but its been x months). In ten years, I promise you I am going to be saying I had a bad day because all I wanted was to see my mom. I feel like we keep grief private so we do not upset others, that we don’t want to offend anyone. But guess what? If you want to know me as a person, then you want to KNOW me as a person and a part of this person is grief I live with daily. And I don’t mean that I walk up to the cashier at Costco and tell them how I cried today because my mom is dead, but to the people who know us and spend time with us.

So as I sit here this April and think about how I’m just over it already, I am not going to feel guilt for feeling this way. My life overall is happy. I am fun, I do lots of fun things, I run thru life like I’m breaking in like the Kool-Aid man. I don’t want anyone to feel bad for me – my grief isn’t for your pity, but I also am not going to pretend because I feel ashamed I carry this sadness with me.

And this year, on April 23rd is I am going to be thankful for the very worst day of my life. I am going to tell anyone who will listen that I am celebrating the very worst day of my life. I thank GOD I was given the worst day of my life because it means I was loved. I was loved so much by my mom I think I was over-loved if that is a thing. I was shown unconditional love for 37 years of my life and that is something to truly be celebrated. I was given the best gift, the gift of a woman who loved me with her whole being and while she is gone, it is truly a blessing that God gave me her as my person.

Getting Your Shit Together in a Pandemic

I think right now we are all living a wild chase that does not seem to be ending.  This pandemic of COVID has caused all of our lives to flip upside down.  For me, it has made me question things I never thought I would question; it has made me see friends and family members in a different light; it has made me thankful for simple things and take my naïve idea that certain things could not happen where I live and crush it.

If you know me personally, I am a person who does a lot of analyzing of people, things, situations.  I am also a pretty even keeled person.  I do not really go off the hinge one way or another, I feel things will even out in the end.  You wont find me fighting for much unless its my husband, my kids or maybe the last piece of pizza, but generally I like to live my life to the fullest and let other people do their thing.  You may call me a bad person for not getting involved in a lot of issues, not passing out signature ballets or holding a sign about whatever on the side of the road, but I am just not that person.

So as I look at my life and what has happened since March, a lot of it has been positive.  I have been able to work from home.  This has been amazing.  I get to see my girls so much more now.  I feel closer to my kids than I ever have.  Even in just passing by and chatting at lunch or saying good morning.  I did not have that opportunity in the past.  The guilt I had with trying to have a career and be with my kids has melted away.  You can say I am entitled for this, okay, I am, but I have worked hard to have my career and I didn’t just fall into a great job that I can now do from my own office, and someday I may have to go back to my actual office, but for now, I am getting the best of the both worlds.

That is just one way that my life has been blessed since March.  I wont go into all the other ways but you get it, I have seen some positive in all this negative.  But, there has been some negative that I cannot deny.  I am a social person, I make others laugh, people like to have me around, I’m a good time, I’m always up for doing something to be a jackass and embarrass someone (I also really love myself).  I, have zero desire to be around most people.  The thought of having to go to my office and make chitchat is giving me a headache and a lot of times I see the phone ring or a text message and I just walk away.

Like everyone, we have had to make decisions about going forward with our family.  After a lot of thought and discussion and back and forth, Scott and I are keeping our kids home this year from school (and have the ability to do so while I know a lot of others don’t).  If you know me personally you know I do NOT have patience.  My brain also jumps into way more complex things than it needs to.  Trying to teach a first grader anything will turn into, and this is how you do a statistical analysis so I am sure to fail massively.  I also am not a rigid person when it comes to parenting.  My kids have always had a free schedule as far as bedtime, homework time, dinner time.  I always know what’s going on, my mind is a memory bank, but you never catch me saying holy shit, we missed a nap!  I could care less.  My thought also is if you want to go to bed at 11 and be an asshole because you had to wake up early, welcome to consequences of your actions.  So now I have to have a schedule with my kids.  I have a schedule for work, I always stick by it, but now I have to pay attention to these other people who have been doing a free for all since March. Someone needs to put a camera in here because it is sure to be a shit show.

So here I am, trying to get my shit together in a pandemic and I don’t know where I am going or what I am doing.  I may look like I do, I may have the photos of the kids looking all clean and well mannered in front of something nicely displayed in the kitchen that looks clean and organized (I paid someone to clean it).  I may have a selfie of my face looking nice for the day but 95 percent of the time I have on yoga pants that I have never once done yoga in and a T-shirt that has a hole in it.  I may sound professional on my meeting calls and have all the right answers, but no one is seeing me running around my basement trying to find a cricket that wont stop chirping while I am also talking.  You are not seeing the behind the scenes that puts it together like the half-assed well oiled machine that it is!

So I am not the only one in this situation.  EVERYONE is in a situation where we have to answer hard questions, we have to change the way we do things.  It sucks, it really does.  We are learning a different life.  While a lot of people I know are learning this life, they are also fighting it every step of the way because they feel it is unnecessarily and is a mass scheme to stop the president or our free world or the sky being blue, but I am not really into that theory so you do you.

The purpose of this post completely is to please, let’s give ourselves some grace. Lets give each other some grace.  Let’s learn to bite our tongues and quit calling people names because they believe that this pandemic is very real or very fake.  Let’s quit seeing a person strictly for their political beliefs but for the person they are.  Let’s all calm down if you see someone wearing or not wearing a mask.  Our lives are short, take the vacation (Hell, I took myself to Vegas and had a fantastic time), get off the computer and stop trolling people on comments sections of news stations (this is advice I am giving myself because I do this), take a ride, go pick up some dinner, love your family, love your neighbor, love yourself.  Don’t look back on your life changing and have the memory that you spent it angry, but look back on it that you saw some light in the darkness because this too will pass my friends, life always moves on.

 

Why I Hate My Birthday

I’m going to be 40 on Wednesday. This has bothered me since January 1st has rolled around. I have dreaded my 40th birthday unlike no other. The older I get, the more I dislike birthdays, and the last few years have been bad and deep down I knew why, but I never said it, until last night.

I’m not a vain person. Truth be told, I’m not the prettiest in the bunch, I am overweight, I don’t have radiant skin or hair, I don’t know how to properly apply makeup most of the time and I’ve never been the prettiest in the room so I’m not upset about getting older because my looks will and have changed, that’s inevitable.

I haven’t wasted my life away. I’m not addicted to drugs or alcohol, I have a happy marriage that I’ve been in for 17 years, three wonderful daughters and I have a very good career and am financially stable. I’m not looking back wishing what if, I’m not mad that I haven’t done enough. I’m pretty proud of where I’m at.

When I talk about how I am dreading turning 40 people always look at me and tell me “I’m blowing a day out of proportion”, and “it’s just another day” and “40 isn’t old” and that “I secretly like the attention”. But deep down it’s like someone is pulling me towards this milestone and I am fighting like hell to break loose.

So why, why do I dread birthdays, especially this one. Last night as I sat in my brothers yard, we started talking and it just spilled out without even realizing it. It’s my mom. I hate my birthday because my mom died. That probably doesn’t make sense to you. As a parent when your child has a birthday, once they get older, you most likely are more excited for them then they are. They see it as just another day and you see it as the moment your life was forever blessed.

My sister in law said, “your mom made birthdays special, and she doesn’t anymore”. She nailed it. My mom was always excited about my birthday. She wanted to throw parties, she made me hug her, she made me my special cake, she gave me a card that always showed the time and weight I was (in case I would forget year after year). My mom was celebrating the day her life was forever changed. My mom was excited because I was in her life.

My moms life is gone. What I have left of my moms life is in a box in my cabinet. My mom isn’t celebrating me anymore. My mom was with me when I took my first breath and I was with her when she took her last. There are days in the year that are hard, but my birthday is as hard as the anniversary of her death. Last year I spent the day silently crying at work and then I spent the evening alone. The year before I got on a plane and went to Vegas and started drinking to forget what day it was.

This year I don’t know what I am going to do. I want to celebrate, I want to think of this as a milestone, that I made it this far, that I’ve done something with myself. I want Scott and my girls and my friends and my family to celebrate with me but on the other side I want to hide and run somewhere where no one can find me.

I don’t want you to read this post and think, oh poor Lynn, she is feeling sorry for herself again.  That’s not my point. My point is really to get it out of my head and in writing, because sometimes that helps me and right now I need something to help.  Also, maybe somewhere, someone else is also dreading their birthday trying to figure out why.  Maybe this will help them understand their why.  I think as I get older and people ask me why I dislike my birthday, I will shrug it off and let them thing I an vain.  Sometime you have to live it to understand it, and I would much rather my friends and family not have to understand this pain and think I am vain then to sit next to me and say they totally get it, its not a fun club to be in.

 

What I Want My Daughters To Know

When I look back on my life and I think of a time that was just confusing and ridiculous and awkward, it was Middle School (or Junior High as we called it). I remember being in the middle of still a kid wanting to play with a toy or two to almost an adult to thinking my parents were embarrassing and knew nothing to just wanting to fit in and be popular.  Popular, the thing we all craved in Junior High.  Being in the right group of girls that seemed to have it all going for them including cute clothes, cute boyfriends, cute braces, cute shoes, cute themed parties, cute Friday night fun, the list goes on and on and is all very cute.

I remember my eight grade year that there were two girls in my class that just seemed to have it all. Everyone seemed to flock to them, including my best friend at the time.  She became friends with one of these bubbly girls and I was on the outside.  I was on the outside because I was awkward as hell, I was needy, I was clingy and I didn’t understand that my friends could have other friends, and that I could have other friends.  When I think back to not being in the popular click in my junior high years, I cringe.  These two girls in particular that seemed to be the big thing actually left our small school after eighth grade and I would hear their names growing up and I would cringe.  Ironically enough, I am friends with one of these girls today on Facebook and she is a super sweet person.  Nothing like the horrible popular girl who left me out that I imagined in my 13-year-old mind (because honestly, these girls weren’t mean, just had something I didn’t have).

I have two girls in Middle School and it is trying. I don’t know right now if it is more trying for me than it is for them.  I get so frustrated because I want to shake my kids and tell them how much this doesn’t matter.  I want to tell them that these people will most likely not be “your” people after you leave high school, but I’m a mom, what do I know.

I will tell you what I know. I will tell you that in a few months I will be 40 and it seems like yesterday that I was sitting at that small school in that small town of Watervliet thinking that if I wasn’t invited to SarahBeth’s sleepover on Friday night, that that was my last chance to have fun.  I will tell you that in my almost 40 years of life, I have learned a lot of lessons and I SO wish my girls would listen and read what I have to say, understand I too lived this, take it to heart and trust that sometimes, I know what I am talking about.

• The friends you have now will most likely not be your friends as you get older. Most of the friendships you create in middle school and high school are superficial. You may keep one or two, but the others will fade with time.
• There may be girls who seem to have it all, have all the confidence, have all the looks, the grades, the skills, but on the inside, they have the same fears that you have.
• It’s OKAY to not have a boyfriend. Having a boyfriend does not make you popular. Not having a boyfriend does not make you a loser. There will be plenty of time in your life to have a boyfriend and it is highly, highly likely that boyfriend in high school will not be your husband. Enjoy what you have now in the moment.
• Most of these so called friends are being lived thru vicariously from their parents. Parents, when I was in school, were not worried about keeping up with the other parents. Now that I am a parent, it’s like a sport to try to not be outdone by the next parent. I hope someday you find comfort and pride in the fact that I, as a mom, could give two shits about other parents, what travel team they got their kid on to, what they do for a living, how much money they spent on their kids wardrobe, what vacation they took them on, what special talents they are pushing their kids in and generally just whatever they didn’t get to do as a kid so they force their kid to do it now. Do we have good careers? Yes. Do we vacation? Yep. Do you have nice clothes? Yep. Do we buy nice things? Sure do. Do we do it for anyone other than ourselves? Absolutely not. Are there moms going to read this and share it with their so-called “mom friends” and talk shit about me? Sure are. Do I ever look around the gym at any sporting event wishing I was not 100 percent me? Never. You may hate this about me now, but I bet someday, you are going to love it.
• The smartest girl in your class may someday be waiting on you at McDonald’s (Not that there is anything wrong with that). The biggest goof off in your class may someday be the CEO of Google (Not that there is anything wrong with that). The most athletic kid in your class may someday be the biggest girl/guy you know (Not that there is anything wrong with that). We don’t have a crystal ball, but what turns out will surprise you.
• You are NOT what others label you to be. You are not too skinny or too fat or too tall or too short. You are not too quiet, too loud, too dumb or too smart. You are not too poor or too rich. You are YOU. Let me tell you a few things I was told by unsolicited individuals growing. “You have child bearing hips (told this at 16 and guess what, I did! Meet my three daughters)” “A mouth like that will get you nowhere in life (That’s interesting, I don’t see you in a role that is seldom held by women)” “Without me you will be nothing (Told to me by a man. If I look around, I am pretty sure with him I was nothing; without him I kicked ass and took names)” These are only a few things. I have been called a bitch more than you will know, but none of this is my label. The reasons other lash out are of their own insecurities.
• Do not join in on anything because you do not feel adequate enough, that you won’t match up to someone else’s skill or ability or that someone may talk about you. Do it, put yourself out there. The best revenge is stepping out and showing the ones who thought they could get to you that you could care less what anyone thinks.
• Don’t be the person that is any of these that I listed above. Don’t be the mean girl. Sit with the kids at lunch who are alone. Help the person struggling, young and old. Don’t accept someone talking down to you because of your age or race or gender. It’s okay to decide that your groups of friends are not the people you want in your life. It is okay to step out of the norm. It is okay to not always follow along with what is popular at the time. It is CRUCIAL you are happy within yourself and your choices.
• This WILL pass. What you are living in is a brief moment in a long life.

So you might not be at the next sleepover. You might miss out on a fun event, but your life is not over.  After my junior high years, my life went on.  I had lots of struggles and lots of times I didn’t feel I was good enough, but no one really knew because I hid it with a smile on my face and confidence in my eyes.  This isn’t the end, it’s only the beginning of a life very well lived.

It’s Not Your Story

I have been away from blogging for a while now.   It’s not something I intentionally avoided doing.  It was something I just did not seem to have the time to do.  I have all these thoughts in my head, but a large part of me says, who cares, no one wants to hear what’s in your head.  And to be honest, a lot of times I don’t want to hear what is in my head either, but this topic has weighed on my mind a lot lately so I felt if I put it out on writing.

I know I have talked a lot about the death of my mom and the grief I suffer from it. I also keep thinking over and over that no one wants to read about my grief, but honestly, this is a huge part of my life so if the grief is on my mind, then that is what I write about and of course, it’s on my mind.

I have had a pretty good summer. My birthday was hard; I seemed to be very upset that day with missing my mom.  I have had good days and bad, more good than bad, but overall, it has come in waves and I have been able to maintain that.  I am trying to do what my mom told me to do, which is live the best life I can.  Cherish her good memories, but also take the grief and turn it into love and happiness.  That is a lot harder said than done for sure, but I have tried and I think sometimes I have failed and sometimes I have succeeded.

To be 100 percent honest, I have noticed that I actually get angry at people who still have moms. I hear people talk about their mom or their family and I get mad.  I hear my own husband talk to his mom and I get mad.  I am mad that I don’t have a mom, yet others do.  And it has nothing to do with who has a good or a bad mom, it’s just a mom.  And I know I can say this about dads and spouses and children and everything else, but remember, I am writing about my story.  Not that your story is not relevant because it 100 percent is, but this is my experience.

So I had to take a step back. I found myself in a fit about a month ago literally crying and asking my dad why I don’t have a mom.  Asking my dad why that part of my life is over?  And it really is.  The thought that I will no longer on this earth have my parent with me is hard to overcome, very hard and it comes at me all the time.  But, after I put myself back together, thought about it for a long time and realized I was being childish the thought came into my head that hit hard, but put me into a place I need to be:  It’s not your story.

I’ve always pictured my life as a book. My book is laid out all pretty and in my book I see things that will happen.  I could totally see me being married with three girls; it was not surprising to me.  I could always see me being a screw up a lot of times who redeemed herself.  I could always see me being successful in my career.  What I never, ever saw, was that my story had my mom not in it.

My story went like this: My dad would die first.  I would help take care of my mom.  My mom would live a long time, maybe die when I was in my 70s.  It would be expected by then.  Now this isn’t saying I love my dad less.  I don’t.  But my dad will even tell you, it would be him to die first, not the person who had absolutely no medical issues.

My story continued that I would be carting my mom around to the casino, to dinner, to family gatherings. She would be the sweet little old lady that everyone would love.  This is my story.  See, the problem lies in that I made my own story.  That was not my story.  My story is that I suddenly was thrown into a situation where I had to make decisions, see and do things that I never, ever in a million years thought I would have to, nor thought I would be able to.  My story is that I had to grow up.  That I never knew how much a child I was until I was forced to not be one.  My story is that I do not have a mom, nor SHOULD I have a mom anymore.

That’s a hard one, I am not meant to have a mom. How dare someone say I don’t deserve a mom?  That was my first thought, but the truth is, it wasn’t about deserving a mom, it was about having one.  My story is that I wasn’t meant to have a mom with me on earth anymore because that was not God’s plan because in my mom’s story, she was meant to die when she did.

It’s hard to grasp this. It’s incredibly hard.  It takes a ton of faith and honestly a lot of courage and I will tell you that I don’t always do well with it.  I find myself crying a lot in the car when I drive to work because it’s my only place I feel I can kind of let it free.  I found myself beating the hell out of my seat the other day for a minute because I was just mad that I struggling.  Struggling with myself, struggling to make sure my family is happy and healthy, struggling to make sure my dad is okay, struggling to just make sure everything is just okay.  In that process a lot of times, I lose me and I find myself looking around saying, it’s not fair.  But it is fair, it is right, it is meant to be.

So that is where I am, I am here, I am doing good and sometimes, I am doing bad. I am trying to live the best life I can and be the best person I can be.  I fail a lot, but I also see seeds of success.  My book is not over and it will never match what I have in my mind of what it should be, but I will continue to face my challenges head on and continue to remind myself that what I am handed is what is meant to be, no matter how bad it hurts.

Turning Dreams Into Reality

This one is pretty personal.  I went back and forth on posting it, but I am going to for a few reasons.  One, I want to remember my dream and two, in case anyone else is going thru grief, it may help.

If you know me, have read my blog, are friends with me on Facebook or anything, you know that last April, I lost my mom and I have been struggling, very hard with it. My mom was my closest friend and confidant.  I did everything with her, saw her every day and I lost her quickly, in the course of six months and my life completely shattered and changed.

This last year has been and up and down struggle, as anyone can imagine it being. But these last few months have seemed to be very hard.  One of the main things that has happened to me in the last few months is I do not remember details about her life when she was healthy.  All I remember is her death.  The image of the last breath she took shoots through my mind all the time.  It is uncontrollable, comes thru so fast and leaves just as fast, but leaves me reliving that memory over and over again, uncontrollably.  I have desperately tried to just remember her healthy, remember her life, but all I can remember is her death and I have struggled constantly with it.

Another thing that has happened in this past year is dealing with what to do with my mom’s remains. My mom wanted to be cremated and her ashes spread over our family farm.  I still have my mom’s ashes in my home.  We had decided as a family to plant a tree and place my mom’s ashes in it on the farm.  I told my brother and my dad last year I just wasn’t ready to do that, I wasn’t ready to let her go.  I felt that was all I had left of her physically and I couldn’t bear to do it.  But as time is going on, now every time I see the ashes, all I can think about is how all that is left of her life is ashes and it brings me such sadness.

I have vivid dreams. Really odd dreams, always have.  Most of them are hilarious, but they are always vivid.  My mom is usually always in my dreams somewhere, but normally in a sense of in the background or a memory or just there.  I know she is there but every time she is, she is in the form of what she was when she died, frail and very thin and very sickly looking.  She has only spoken twice in my dreams since she died and they were short sentences telling me to look out for my dad and to remember that Scott is a wonderful husband….until the other night.

On Wednesday night I had a dream. And in that dream it was just my mom and I.  We were sitting at a table.  My mom looked healthy.  She looked just like she did before she got sick.  She was around 63 probably.  Had one of her sweatshirts on and she was pretty solemn.  She told me that she has watched for the past year, she has watched me struggle and she has watched me fight.

She went on and told me that I have to move on. She explained to me that she lost her mom when she was in her 30s and that as much as it broke her heart, she made sure that we lived a good life with her and my dad.  She told me that she took her grief and put it into her family and made memories with them.  It didn’t stop her grief, but it turned the sadness into happy memories.

My mom told me that I have been given such a gift with my girls and Scott. She told me that I cannot let her death define my life.  She told me that I cannot let six months of sickness be the memories I hold of a long, healthy, happy life, that six months was a small amount of pain compared to the life she lived.

My mom told me to go get a tree, to spread her ashes, to move on and to focus on my life and my family. She assured me she was healthy and happy and fine and that I need to do the same.  She told me to no longer remember her in death, remember her life because that life led to my life and my children and my happiness.  After that message, she was gone.

When I woke up it took a few hours to fully comprehend what happened. All of a sudden the dream started to come to me extremely well.  You may think it was just my subconscious talking to me and that is okay, but whatever it was, I listened.  It was so powerful that I cried all day long.  I made it thru my work meetings and kept it together but I just sat at my desk quietly working and I cried.

I am taking her advice. I am spreading her ashes; I am going to remember her life.  I am not going to let her death define the rest of my life.  I am going to grieve, always, but in that grieving I am going to turn it into good.  I grieve so horribly because I miss her so much because she was such an amazing mom, but I have the opportunity to do the same things with my girls.  This morning I did have an image of her death shoot thru my mind, but oddly enough, it wasn’t the moment she had died.  It was a moment after she had died with Scott telling me, “It’s okay, it’s over.  She’s not sick anymore.”  I had forgotten that memory.  The memory of the moment she died did not come to me like it had hundreds of times before, the memory of being told she is okay did.

Without my mother, I wouldn’t be here. Without her love and support, I wouldn’t be who I am today.  I wouldn’t have the family I do.  My choices would have been different.  My life wouldn’t have been as wonderful as it is.  I need to live it to the fullest so when we meet again, I can tell her that I took her advice and I turned my grief and sorrow into joy and happiness, just like she told me to do.

Enjoy the Sh*t Storm

Do you ever have so much in your head that does not correlate to each other but the thoughts swirl around and you feel like you are going to drive your car into a tree?  No, oh, well then maybe it’s just me.  The last couple of days I have had so many random thoughts that I am going to just share them with anyone who wants to read because I honestly think it will make you feel good about your life.  I have said it before and I will say it again, I am like watching Hoarders.  You instantly feel better about your house when you watch…

Lucy starts Kindergarten next year and the end of the month I have to take her to the school to be tested for all the fun stuff they do. During that time I have to sit and listen to the principal speak about the upcoming year.  I asked if I could skip and I was told no.  I need to be 100 percent honest.  This isn’t my first rodeo.  This is my third kid.  Lyvia started Kindergarten in 2011.  I have almost ten years under my belt of school.  The minute Lucy gets in that school, she is not my problem.  Like, I am going to come to a rolling stop and she is going to tuck and roll as I leave.  Mom of the year over here, but I put down someone else’s contact information if there’s an emergency.  I will deal with her between the hours of 4 pm and 8 am, but beside that, congrats Watervliet Public Schools, it’s a girl.  So now I have to go sit and listen to what the principal has to say about don’t fear if they can’t read, they will and they will write and don’t worry, they will be productive kids.  I honestly wasn’t worried about that at all.  I am worried Lucy is going to tell someone to piss off because they don’t like the same Disney Princess as she does and then I am going to have to go to the school and deal with it while I have other things to do.  If you think I am serious about all this, you are partially right, but I will let you guess which parts are serious and which parts aren’t.

Pretty sure I have the best day every when I get the most likes on a comment to The Onion or Sanctimommy on Facebook. I feel like my life’s work has been met by commenting on stupid shit on the Internet that makes others laugh.  We all have goals, don’t be jealous that I have reached mine.

I had to go to the dentist yesterday because I have a tooth falling apart because I guess when you get older, things fall apart (you should see me naked). Anyway, as he is grinding on my teeth, there is a TV on the ceiling that is playing House Hunters.  Nice move dentist, I am now not pissed at you, I am pissed at the people in House Hunters.  House Hunters pisses me off.  Hi, my name is Becky and this is Roger and we have a very specific list of things we want in a house that include lakefront Chicago, two full bedrooms, our own ski lift, a parking garage just for us and a servant.  Our budget is $100,000 but we want some left over for furniture.  Here’s what we can show you, a she-shed that’s just an old outhouse in Watervliet Michigan.  Enjoy your view.

I have really let myself go. I mean really.  Last week, I could not find my pants.  I swear to god, I could only find one pair of dress pants.  I have no idea where they went.  The funny thing is, my house is clean, but still, no pants.  They finally reappeared this weekend, but yeah, I kinda just rewashed them and called it good.  I literally just half-dry my hair (on a good day), and throw on a little bit of makeup and call it good.  Even a few years ago I was dressing nice and doing my hair and makeup but now it’s like, “so if I stay in bed ten more minutes, I will have time to shower but not rinse.  Okay, that sounds good”.  I look like a dumpster fire.  I have a hair dryer that only takes three minutes to dry my hair, THREE MINUTES, yet I am like, I’m good, I would have to plug it in and that is exhausting.  I think I am turning into the woman in Wal-Mart (I hate Wal-mart), that is wearing the sweatpants that say JUICY on her butt, but her butt is eating the UIC and it just says J and Y.  Pretty soon I will just be hanging out at home with her cats because Scott and the girls have left me.

Softball season is upon me again. Oh how I love softball season.  I am lying.  I actually love watching softball but I hate the millions of practices the girls have and since they can’t be on the same teams due to age, I just live at the ball field.  So the other night I am sitting in my car being antisocial because I am fun like that and waiting for practice to be over at 7.  I am watching some other moms standing outside talking and I am like, wow, that seems nice, maybe I should do that.  Then I was like, no way, I don’t want to make conversation.  So while the moms are nicely waiting for their kid to finish up, it’s now 7:05 and I have my window rolled down telling Lilly to hurry up because I want to beat the rush at Taco Bell.  I have no idea what a rush at Taco Bell looks like, but I am a super supportive mom.

STOP using FACEBOOK live if you are looking directly at the camera. I want to see your Facebook live, I don’t want to see the camera just looking at you. It is the worst possible position to see someone in except their sex face, but sometimes I wonder if the sex face would look like the Facebook live face.  And only use Facebook live for something important.  Let me give you a breakdown of what Facebook live should not be used for:

A buffet line

Opening your mail

Getting groceries

A doctor’s visit

You pooping

Any type of sexual contact

You just talking to the camera while you pick your face

You at work

You just walking around

And finally, you having a good cry

Before Facebook live, did you get the big old video cassette recorder out and set it up and record yourself having a good cry and then send 1,000 copies off to your closest acquaintances? No, then don’t do it now.

BUT, please use Facebook live for things I cannot attend but want to see, like sports games or your kids concerts or fun activities. Totally cool, just don’t turn the camera on yourself.

Well, that’s all I had swirling around in my brain. I feel calmer and not so clustered.  Enjoy your day!

Punished

I have two parts of my brain. The non-rational side that has me throwing little fits like a child is something doesn’t go my way. That side gives me anxiety and worry over stupid things, it tells me stories I don’t know if I can believe. Then there is the rational side of my brain that keeps me in check. Reminds me to calm down. Brings me back to earth. Teaches myself not to throw fits, I’m not a child.

I ask you to entertain the non-rational side of my brain for a moment. I am going on a year without my mom. I think I have done a really good job of controlling the anger aspect of grief. I am always reminding myself how fortunate I was to have her in my life. How wonderful she was. But dammit, I am mad.

I honestly feel like I am getting punished. I want to ask God why in the world would be take someone who was such a good person. Why he would make her suffer, cut her life short. There’s so many pieces of shit in this world and he took an amazing woman and he broke us.

And I want to know she’s watching us, helping us, seeing the kids get older, seeing we are doing it without her but I can’t. I just can’t believe that someone who loved so deeply would be able to watch us, broken and fighting to move on. How could she. She would be miserable seeing us this miserable.

I want to understand why I can’t see her, can’t feel her in my dreams, don’t feel comforted. I worry about if she is okay. I know we will see each other again but I’m worried. I feel like I had to do something horribly wrong for God to do this.

The rational side of my brain tells me to get my shit together. It reminds me of all the horrible losses others have experienced. My brain reminds me that she lived a good life, that she got to experience a lot that others don’t. I know. I understand all of that but my non-rational side is screaming right now. Why does god have to flash her death thru my head nonstop. Why can’t I remember her as the woman she was? I am worried I’m started to forget how she sounded, how she looked, her actions. All I see if her death and I want to see her life. If I could just go to bed and skip this next month I would be thrilled, but I cant.

I can’t tell you why I am writing this. I am not looking for pity. Maybe I’m not the only one who feels this way when dealing with grief. I pray to god I will be shown some clarity. I pray to god I will one day understand why she had to be taken from us and that I will be able to enjoy the memories of her life rather than relive her death.

Start the Judging!

I bet if I got a group of women in a room and asked them if they think they are a good mother, they will tell me no or that they feel guilt over this or that or that they “sometimes” are a good mother.

I have been thinking about this a lot. I have in the past, had guilt about what I do and do not do with my kids, but I also do not feel any guilt about keeping up with the social media and Pinterest moms because that I think is where our failure lies.

I remember being a kid. I thought my mom was overprotective but man was I wrong.  The things my mom let me do today, most moms wouldn’t and I don’t think it is because of fear of being a bad parent, I think it’s the fear of being judged as a bad parent.

Social media has put this stigma on us that we must do it all, see it all, conquer it all before 9:00 a.m. every morning and if we don’t, we somehow will be looked down upon. Our houses must be clean, our kids must be well mannered, our marriages, picture perfect, and we should be able to balance everything that is thrown at us in a neat and tiny little package or we are a failure.

News flash, I’m a failure. I’m a failure as a parent because I don’t do these things.  My life is not categorized as a tiny little package that is neat; it is characterized as a dumpster fire, and honestly, I am proud of it.  I see you moms out there, I see you judging or looking down upon others, but guess what, behind closed doors or behind the phone, you are the same.  We often hide our flaws so we don’t seem imperfect.  We “sugar coat” life’s unfortunate incidents so people don’t talk about us.  We try hard to “impress” others for whatever reason.

So as I thought about this, I thought about the social norms and how I give a shit less about it, so as my gift to you today, I am going to throw out some of my sins. I encourage you to read, gather your friends, look down on me, talk about what a horrible parent/wife/friend I am.  Hell, invite me; I will share with my flaws.  I encourage you to judge me.  I also encourage you to listen to what I am going to say if you do judge me.  I don’t give a flying fuck what you think and neither should you.  So here we go, let the judgment begin!

• I never breast fed any of my kids
• My girls eat Mac and Cheese and Spaghettios. Yep, it’s processed. Nope, it’s not organic. And they drink pop with it sometimes too!
• My kids are vaccinated
• I am a Democrat AND a Republican
• I talk openly about sex with my older girls
• My older girls know about my past because I share my scars with them
• I cuss in front of my kids
• I pay someone to clean and organize my house. Hell, Friday she cleaned my fridge and today she’s organizing our closets
• I didn’t want to be a stay at home mom. I am career oriented and yes, my kids are fine.
• You are not a martyr because you stay at home neither are you a martyr because you don’t.
• I make cakes and cupcakes from a box
• Lucy likes Family Guy, Lyvia likes South Park and Lilly likes Bob’s Burgers
• My kids never had a schedule on naps, food, bedtime
• Sometimes, Lucy doesn’t get a bath for two days
• Lyvia never had an ounce of school before six. She gets all A’s. Lilly had preschool, she too gets all A’s. Lucy could give two shits about learning, I predict a lot of school visits when she starts next year.
• I forgot what grade Lilly was in two weeks ago.
• Scott and I take vacations without our kids
• I have paid my kids off so I don’t have to have birthday parties or go to certain events.
• My kids play sports; they aren’t going to be superstars. I remind them of that daily. I don’t think its mean; I think it’s being honest.  I also will not kiss anyone’s ass for my kid to get a better spot or starting position nor will I try to impress anyone with my paycheck.  If you don’t think people do this, you live under a rock.  I watch it at every sporting event I go to.

This list is small. It goes on and on and on.  I can tell you things about myself and my life forever, but you get the point.  As I look at all these “mistakes” you may think I am making, I look at them with a shrug.  I don’t care who you are, what kind of money you have, where you live and who you love.  I care if you are a genuine person.  Whatever I do and I say and I buy and I choose to live my life is for one person, me, and it is for one common good, my family. I wish we would cut the crap with trying to one-up each other and just be honest.  I wish we would quit complaining that we do so much and the next person comes along to say they do more and the next person and the next person.  We all do a lot.  Let’s all give ourselves a round of applause and move on with our lives and that includes me.

To be 100 percent honest, none of us are getting out of this alive, choose the best life and live it. If you ask me if I am good mom and wife, I am going to tell you yes I am.  Am I the June Cleaver of moms and wives?  Nope.  I am the Lynn Summers of moms and wives and that is the person I want to be.  If you disagree with my take, I’m open to all suggestions.  I have a drop box you can put them in; it’s labeled “trash”.  Happy parenting my friends!

Saying Goodbye

Why is it that one day makes everyone start over?  New Year’s Eve is essentially just another 24 hours, but for some reason, it means so much more to so many.  We could start over on any day we wish, but a lot of us wait for the new year to do new things.

I have to say, I am thrilled that today is December 31^st.  I never want to revisit this year.  I want to leave it and never look back, but as I thought that, I started to look at all the photos and memories from this year and there were some fantastic times.

I have to admit that right now, I have a really hard time when I pray and I thank God for everything. I guess I should clarify, I have no issues praying and thanking God, but when I have been asked to pray at family events, I have a really hard time.  I find it so hard to thank God for bringing us all together when my mom is gone.  I think I have done a really good job of not holding anger for losing my mom, some days are hard, but when I look back on this year, there is no way I can feel a lot of anger because there is so much good.  So, what has this year taught me?

• The Lynn I was in December of 2017 is not the Lynn I am today. I have a lot of traits about me that are the same, but I’m a completely different person. Because of that person, my relationships have changed. The way I parent has changed, the way I interact with people has changed, my marriage has changed. I am different.
• I did things this year that I never, ever thought I could or would have to do. There were a lot of them that were horrible, but the worst one of all was carrying my mom’s ashes from the funeral home to my car to my house. I cannot describe the feeling of holding on to the very last physical thing you have of one of the very closest people in your life. The strength I had to do that was something I didn’t know I even had, but in life, there are a lot of times we have to do things we never thought we would have to do and 2018 showed me that many, many times.
• I have amazing friends. My friends are the best, loyal, loving people. I cannot tell you the many times they have showed up and just been there, been there to help, been there to listen, been there to laugh with, been there to enjoy memories with. Some of my best memories this year involve my closest friends and life would be so boring without them.
• I learned a lesson in money this year. For the last few years, money wasn’t too much of a struggle in our house. This year, money wasn’t a struggle at all. I cannot tell you how many years that we struggled when it came to money. That the money struggle was our largest struggle and now; we haven’t had to deal with it. I always thought it would change things and guess what, it doesn’t. My money struggles were small in comparison to what I dealt with this year. Money doesn’t make happiness, it doesn’t make problems go away and you can disagree with me all you want, but I lived it. If it’s not money you have an issue with, it will be something else, I guarantee it.
• There were times when I thought I was lost, but times I needed to fight back and stand up for myself and I did. I’m a fighter, I will always be a fighter, that will never be taken from me and when I need it most, it will shine thru.
• I didn’t lose any weight. I said I would, I didn’t, I am going to start trying again. I like to eat my feelings, in the form of pizza and I did that way too much this year.
• My business grew a huge amount this year. Such a blessing and a curse. I spent too much time away from my family working on things. I won’t do that next year. I will maintain the business, but am working thru the kinks.
• Scott & I both received promotions this year. We are so fortunate to have the careers we do but they come with a cost, the cost of a lot of stress and a lot of times of not being together at the same time. It’s a balance and we work on it always.
• The girls made me proud every single day. Between their grades, their sports, the way they handle themselves, their kindness, the list goes on and on.
• My grandpa died a week and a half after my mom. I still haven’t been able to grieve for him because I am so overwhelmed by losing my mom. I miss him.
• My husband is an amazing man, plain and simple. He makes me proud to be his wife every day, but this year was rough. He stood by me through it all, kept me going when I didn’t think I could. I can’t imagine my life without Scott with me every step of the way.

I always tell myself God won’t give us more than we can handle. I had to remind myself that almost every day this year.  There were days that I literally had to force myself to get out of bed and place one foot in front of the other.  There were days I was fine, smiling happily and boom, knocked over with one thought.  But when I look at the photos and all the happy times, I just am overwhelmed with how good life is.  For all the horrible, there is so much beauty.  For all the sad times, there are happy times.  For all the pain I have, I have so much joy.

I don’t know what next year will bring. I don’t know where I will be at the end of 2019.  I know that this year pushed me so far, but I didn’t break.  I wanted to, but I fought back. I will continue to overcome and I will continue to see all the joy and all the love and all the good times just like I am seeing with this year, but I am happy to say goodbye to the hardest year of my life.