My Wish for You This Christmas

I remember being a little girl, ripping presents open, being spoiled year after year by my parents.  I remember my mom and dad sitting and smiling and watching as my brother and I opened our gifts.  I remember feeling bad for my mom, wondering how Christmas could be fun for her as we all had gifts, even dad, but most of the time, she didn’t.  She always told me she never wanted gifts, she enjoyed watching us more, and I never truly understood that until I was older.

To say this Christmas feels like Christmas would not be telling the truth.  If I am going to be 100 percent truthful,  I have gone thru all the motions of the Christmas season, all the while suppressing any sadness I had by working nonstop.  I started taking Christmas orders for my business in October and every night after work and the weekend, I spent hid in my basement, wrapped up in making fun memories for others, all the while, ignoring the memories I could be making.  If I have to think about Christmas and this year and my mom not being here, it would put a hold so tight on me, I couldn’t even speak, so to make sure that didn’t happen, I wrapped my head around others.

I will say that I will not do that again.  That while doing that, I pushed away my family at times, who I could be having memories with.  When things finally slowed down and I started to internalize that I am having to handle Christmas without my mom and try to feel joy, I started crying, and I haven’t stopped since.  I saw my moms Christmas tree in my dads window last night and for the first time, I let my heart and my head meet and if you see me and I have tears, its okay, they will dry up eventually, but it most likely will take awhile.

I decided that all this work I did would not go for me, but for others.  I took every amount of money I made since October and I bought gifts for the people in my life who I want to know I appreciate.  I spent all my money on my children, my husband, my close friends, my brother, my dad, my sister in law, my grandma, my nieces and nephews and so on and so on.  The only way I would find joy in what I had just accomplished was to see others be happy.

I thought back to being little and my mom watching me.  Her joy was watching others. Her joy was not about herself, but everyone else she encountered. Yesterday after work I had to run a million errands to a bunch of busy stores and I found myself being more patient, kinder, calmer.  Wishing others a Merry Christmas.  Hearing my mother come out in me when I wasn’t even trying.  Last night I watched a movie with my family instead of running away and hiding.  Yes, my girls and Scott saw me crying most of the night, but it’s okay.  It’s okay because they miss her too.

My wish for you this Christmas is to stop whatever it is you’re doing and enjoy the moment, enjoy who you are with.  Stop worrying about the stress of every day life.  Stop worrying about work and bills and your to-do list.  Don’t hide because in doing so, you’re blocking out the ones that love and care for you.  I literally watched my life forever change this year in one moment when my mom took her last breath and in that change, nothing about the way I am is the same.  Enjoy the moment you are in because you will never, ever regret those memories.  Merry Christmas to you all.

I’m All Out of Spoons

Every night there comes a time that whatever I am doing, I put it down and I go to bed. I just stop and walk away. It’s very odd and it is never the same time. Sometimes it’s midnight, sometimes it’s 6:00 pm. But wherever I am at, I just stop, my brain tells me no more. This has been happening for a while and it bugs me.

My bff who I pay to be my bff (my therapist) explains grief to me in a lot of way to help me understand. I think I should be functioning better, but most days I have to choose what to put my energy to. Some days it’s just talking, some days it’s getting ready and some days it’s a million things that I have to accomplish.

So back to my bff. She explained to me a way that a woman who had a chronic disease (lupus) learned to explain her disease to others and this works with someone who is going through primary grief (meaning someone who lost a spouse, parent or child). Think of spoons as energy. For every thing you do, one spoon equates to that energy. So you take a shower, one spoon, make dinner, another spoon and so on. Healthy people who are not going thru grief or have a chronic disease have an unlimited amount of spoons per day. They can keep grabbing spoons over and over until they are done. But for those who have chronic disease or grief, they have a limited amount of spoons a day. There’s no number each day we are given, sometimes we have tons and sometimes we have hardly any. Sometimes we are out of spoons by noon and sometimes we go and go until our whole day is done.

Think about having the flu. What can you do when you are sick? Your priorities are to survive. A lot of our concerns are pushed aside because we are just trying to survive. Now, think of sometime who has lost someone that was a large part of them. They are surviving, learning to live without a part of them. There’s no timeline of when that person will feel whole again, but every day they are just fighting.

I can now say that the stages of grief are not a simple walk thru each stage and you’re done. The stages of grief for me have come thru me multiple times now. Just when I think I’m on one path, it changes in the blink of an eye and I’m on another.

So every day when I just stop and walk away, I’m out of spoons. I literally have nothing else to give. I’m sick of feeling guilty that I’m not giving enough. Im sick of trying to hide if I just don’t want to go somewhere or see someone. I don’t have half of me anymore and I still don’t know how to function without that half.

As we are approaching Christmas, I am going thru the motions, but I want nothing to do with it. I am going to do it for my kids, but I have no Christmas spirit in me. The thought of decorating a Christmas tree or wrapping Presents just makes me nervous. The kids decorated outside at my dads today and the thought of it just made me sit and cry. I wish I could fast forward thru it.

So my bff who I pay to be my bff helped me understand why I keep hitting a wall and walking away, I’m out of spoons. I look forward to the day that I have a full drawer, but right now, I’m pushing thru the best I can.

Finding Lynn Again

If you have read my blog you obviously know that last September my life turned upside down and hasn’t fully turned back again. The emotional roller coaster I’ve been on has been tough to say the least and in that ride, I basically have lost Lynn.

This has been on my mind a lot lately. Where did I go, will I ever find my way back to the person I was and I can fully answer no, I won’t. The core of me is there, she sometimes shines thru. I sometimes feel the person I always was, but it’s for brief periods.

Sure, I don’t cry every day anymore, I can laugh and joke and I am not in a constant state of sadness, but my carefree spirit is gone. I feel like I now am in a free fall and no one will be there to catch me if I fall down. I feel like I am a child who is orphaned even though in the outside I’m an almost 40 year old woman. I feel constant guilt and I have lost a lot of the drive i once had.

I want that drive back. It is in my head constantly, where am I? If you know me, you know that everything in life I have put my mind to, I have done. If anyone has ever told me I can’t do something, I do it. I have proven it time and time again, but now, most days I’m in a constant state of just mediocre, status quo, not really wanting to drive towards much and it is bothering me. I go to bed at night racking my brain and searching, trying to find that Lynn who would tell anyone to go fuck themselves in an instant if she was told she couldn’t achieve greatness. But now, that same person is a shell of what used to be.

With that feeling comes guilt. Guilt that I don’t do enough anymore, that everything I do is half assed. Guilt that I’m not a good mom, that I yell too much, that I’m not as involved as I should be, that I’m not as loving as my mom was, that I don’t possess the loving spirit she had. And you know what, I’m not the mom my mom was. I would love to be, but I’m just not. I’m the mom I am. I love my girls deeply. I yell because I’m trying to stop them from making the same mistakes I did. I don’t want them to have to go through the same feelings I went through. I am not as nurturing as my mom, but my mom did me no favors by spoiling the living shit out of me. I still don’t think I’m fully grown. As much as I will try, I’m not my mom, I can’t be like her, I can only do my best.

I feel exhausted. In the past month, Scott has had three days off. I don’t see him before 9 pm every night and I’m handling everything on my own, my job, my business, the kids, the house and I’m just tired. I know, I know, a lot of people do it, quit my bitching. I rely on scott for a lot, even if it’s just someone to talk to about everything and I don’t have that and I think it plays into my feelings.

I dread the holidays. I want to be excited, excited for my kids, thankful for all we have and each other but I’m heartbroken. Tonight as my girls went trick or treating to my dads, all I could hear was my mom. I went in to use her bathroom and my heart shattered. Everything was as it was when she left. Her makeup, her curlers, her clothes were even hanging in the bathroom where she left them. For a brief moment I thought she was there, but she wasn’t. She made the holidays special and I just don’t know if I have it in me.

For a brief moment last Sunday I thought she was alive. I actually out loud asked her what she was up to when I walked into my parents house and I saw laundry going. It was the first time I have accidentally started talking, thinking she was there. When the realization came to me that she was gone, it hit me so hard I had to sit down. I’m so thankful my dad was not in the house, I wouldn’t want to upset him. It’s like I relived her death in that moment and all week I haven’t been able to shake it.

It’s amazing what this year has done to me. It’s amazing how days can change in the blink of an eye. I desperately want to find me. Some days I think I’m figuring it out and then something comes along and knocks me back down. It’s going to be a long road, but I’m going to find Lynn again.

What in the World Was I Thinking?

Babies.  The idea of it is all so pretty.  I remember looking at babies and thinking how cute they were, in their little tiny bows and tiny shoes and their little car carriers and their little laughs and my ovaries are exploding just thinking about it.  It’s amazing our brain blocks out imagining sleep deprivation, poop, tons of poop, lack of any amount of privacy, puking, crying, did I mention poop?

What our mind also forgets to mention is that these babies grow and they begin to talk and have their own little personalities and soon they start school and then…all hell officially breaks loose.

What is it about school that makes me want to physically punch something? It’s what, like the third week of school and I’m about to lose my shit?  Well if I am going to lose my shit, hand me some vodka because I am going to go out in style.

Every year it seems to become more and more. More sports, more activities, more drama, more fighting and more money.   I kid you not, today; Lilly gave me a fundraiser form to take to work.  This is the THIRD fundraiser my kids have given me in that many weeks.  Now, let me say, I do fundraisers, I get the need for money, but I’m pretty sure the fundraiser Lilly was requesting was for her teacher to get a massage and a new houseplant.  I may be exaggerating, but it wasn’t too far off.  I am all about helping out.  Teachers are severely underpaid, work their asses off for our kids, get shit on by parents and keep coming back day after day to deal with a bunch of assholes.  Your kid may not be an asshole, but trust me, I have subbed before, and there are a lot of asshole kids out there.

Anyway, back to the “my teacher needs a bikini wax fundraiser”. I told her no, I just sold over $500 worth of mums for Lyvia’s honor club, which I think is an excellent fundraiser. I told Lilly I would buy something, but I wasn’t going to take it to work as I just went around last week like I was selling a Kirby vacuum, asking my coworkers for money.  She proceeds to get mad at me, but no worries, not because it is for a good cause, because if she sells the most she gets $75.  What?  Did you just say $75?!?  You HAVE to be kidding me.  So you are supposed to go sell a 3 inch cheese log for $25 to your grandpa, but in turn, you will get $75?  Here’s an idea, DON’T GIVE AWAY $75; use it towards your fundraiser!

I have said before that my girls are in multiple activities. This is by choice of course so I am not going to complain, but just amuse me for a moment.  My girls can be in these activities because they have good grades and are responsible.  It takes a ton out of Scott and I to get them to where they need to be (and Thank GOD for my friend Lynn (not me, my bff Lynn), because without her running my kids all over, we would be screwed with a capital S.

Today, the girls both have volleyball pictures (which reminds me, I need to order softball, cheer and school pictures still and I need to hand out last year’s school pictures). Oh, back to today.  Lilly comes down the stairs with her shirt in hand and it REEKS.  Why?  Oh, she had a game on Monday and I didn’t remember to wash it.  It’s okay, she totally never reminded me or threw it down or even put it in the laundry, but I SUCK.  So now she’s the stinky kid.  I told her to get it on, smile pretty, and take it off immediately.  This fiasco is immediately following the fiasco of her on the court Monday in shorts that I cannot see at all.  I immediately question myself that I bought her the wrong size and it looked very inappropriate only to find out that she “LOST” her shorts in my car and was wearing another girl’s shorts who was not her size.  Twist to the story, they weren’t in my car.  She left them at home.  So now I’m the mom that is saying, “I didn’t buy those, I don’t approve, she should cover up”, while the other parents look down in horror that my kid is basically wearing a pair of underwear in the form of spandex.

Lyvia was sick last night, bad headache and fever. She looked awful, but proceeded to come down to my office in the basement to tell me she couldn’t walk up the stairs to go to her bedroom.  Uh, you just walked down a flight of stairs.  It’s very ironic.  And no matter how crappy she felt, she had time to sit up and argue with Lilly about a cup or popsicle stick or the color of the moon or something, it was really relevant to life of course.

And besides having two middle schoolers, we thought life would be a blast to add Lucy who basically lives the best life of doing what she wants and is able to talk herself out of trouble because she is a skilled lawyer. Lilly was upset that Lucy was “watching her” get dressed.  When I told Lucy that is inappropriate she said, “no, it’s okay, I’m a kid and kids can be peepers”.  I told her to apologize to Lilly and not do it anymore and her response was, “Sorry Lilly, but I’m a kid and kids can peep”.

All of this, all of the above is a fantastic amount of crazy with a splash of delusion. I live in a shit storm caused by three little children I made.  Life is about to get more crazy.  Scott accepted a new position and is over a department now at work (I’m super proud of him), but this means more responsibility, more hours, more travel and more not being home.  We are going into an outage at work; I have to be out of state in a few weeks for work and we are stretched very thin.

In all honesty, these three little girls are my life. I wouldn’t change anything, I wouldn’t trade it.  I am going to keep on pushing and laughing at the crazy of these kids and everything that goes with it because it will go fast.  On that note, can I interest you in buying a $25 sausage log for a good cause?

Fifteen Years Ago Today…

I got up today, walked into the bathroom where Scott proceeded to tell me that we didn’t have any clean towels.  I said okay, he grabbed Lucy to drop her off at his parents, I got the other two kids on the bus and we both came to work.  Seems like a normal day right?  It is, except it’s not an ordinary day for us, it’s our 15^th year anniversary.  I mean, he told me happy anniversary once we got to work and we are going away this weekend, but when I looked back on 15 years of marriage, I have learned a lot.   I decided to write some of the things I have learned in these past 15 years and maybe someone who is new to this will stumble upon it and learn something from our love.

• My love for Scott today is MUCH stronger than my love for him 15 years ago. I thought I had a deep love for Scott, but it has grown, a lot. I don’t think love ever stops growing, and if you are in a spot where it does, there may be something wrong.
• Marriage is ugly. You will see your spouse in many ways that you never thought you would see them in. There is no such thing as privacy with marriage. You will hear noises from your spouse that are probably nasty, you most likely will pop pimples for them, pluck hairs for them, do random gross things. The fact that married people see the worst of each other and still have sex is a mystery to me, but we do.
• Make sure to laugh with each other, not at each other. There’s a fine line to laughing together at something dumb one of you did vice laughing at the person when they don’t find it funny.
• Ever hear others talk badly about their spouse to people? Don’t do it. I used to work with a group of women who spent the whole day talking down about their spouses. If you have to go somewhere else to talk about how much you dislike your spouse, there’s something wrong. Do I complain to my closest friends sometimes about Scott’s annoying habits? I sure do. Do I go to work and tell everyone Scott’s an ass? I never would, I love him, he may be an ass but he’s mine and he’s a good man.
• Your sex life is private and between the two of you, keep it that way.
• Marriage is hard, the hardest job I’ve ever had. For me, harder than having kids. You will work every day at your marriage. Sometimes, you will work extra hard while your spouse doesn’t and vice versa. Don’t keep score, just work at it. Remember the reason you fell in love with that person, the reason you wanted to be with that person. Work hard and stay humble.
• You WILL fight over money.
• Kids will change you and your marriage, but it shouldn’t kill your marriage. Remember to take time for each other. It’s okay to leave the kids with someone once in a while. Someday, your kids will be gone, but your spouse will still be there. Keep loving each other and taking time for each other because in the end, you will be back to having just each other.
• As hard as it is in an argument, walk away. Walk away when you’re angry to prevent saying something you will regret. Words sting, take a minute to calm down and don’t regret saying things you cannot take back.
• Be present with them. Take time to talk about or listen about each other’s day, put the phones down (that’s a tough one for me sometimes), help them with hard decisions, go shopping together, be silly, take time to just sit in silence and enjoy each other’s company. Time goes by so very, very fast, enjoy the mundane of each day.

Although we do not argue very much, my marriage is not perfect. I will say I have a good marriage.  I love Scott like no other.  My heart still skips when I see him.  There are days I could strangle him though, but he’s mine to strangle.  We are so very, very opposite but it works for us, very well.  Sometimes I get so frustrated because we have nothing in common, but that’s what makes us fun.

This year has been the hardest year of my life and Scott has stood by me thru it all. Scott knows me like no other.  He knows when I just let me sit and cry and he sits with me in silence.  He knows when to talk to me about things that might upset me.  He stood right next to me as I watched my mom die and all he worried about was taking care of me and making sure I was okay.  He also knows when to push me.  He knows what to say to make me push harder.  He has never stifled me for wanting a career or trying new things in life.  He plays devil’s advocate a lot for me, but I need that.  Without him these last 15 years, I would be a very different person in a very different world, but I guarantee you, it would not be the world I would want and I would not be this successful in anything I do.

So in the blink of an eye, I went from a 23-year-old newlywed to a 38-year-old responsible adult. I’m afraid to blink again, but excited to see what the future brings.  We’ve been thru some very rough times and we have come out stronger and we love each other more than ever because love never fails.

 

Remembering The Best Woman I Ever Knew

On Saturday, my family held a Celebration of Life for my mom at my home.  I wanted to make sure everything was perfect for her day so the last few weeks have been very hectic and stressful.  There is NO WAY we could have done this without the help of our friends and family.  I think the best way to describe why we did everything we did is when Scott was going on about something little that needed to be cleaned and someone told Scott it didn’t have to be perfect, Scott said, “It has to be perfect because SHE was perfect!”  We all know my mom wasn’t perfect, but she was pretty damn close and that’s how much we loved her.  The support they showed us thru being here to help us with anything we needed was amazing.  I am in shock of how much love we received.

The celebration went very well.  We had over 150 people and me, my dad and my brother had a nonstop stream of people coming up to us to talk, give a hug and tell us a story about our mom and wife.  To see all the lives my mom touched was extraordinary.

I wanted to say something about mom so I read something I wrote about her.  I did pretty well, didn’t cry too hard (I did practice about ten times so I wouldn’t break down), but I wanted to talk about mom from my eyes and what she meant to me.  I wanted to share it on here for those who were not able to come and would like to read what I read on Saturday.

My mom didn’t want a funeral.  She didn’t want people to hurt; she didn’t want anyone to fuss over her.  She wanted her death to be like her life, not about her.  The best way we knew to respect and honor my mom was to throw her a party, get friends and family and kids together and laugh and talk because that is what she loved to do.

I thought a lot about what to say about my mom.  I write a lot as it is easier to express how I feel, but I realized this was not about me and how I am feeling,this was about having others see how much my mom meant to me and my family.  I tried to think of things to say where everyone could relate,  but then I realized the best way to talk about my mom was to just speak from my heart about her and what I saw thru my eyes.

Anyone who met my mom knows how kind she was.  She had a smile that lit up the room.  Whether you were her friend, family, she sold you a house, you knew her thru me or Joe or Dad, you know that she was a caring, kind person.  My mom cared for others and never worried about herself.  She did selfless acts every day and never wanted anyone to see.  Whether it was giving her gloves to the boy who took her groceries out at Hardings as he didn’t have any or giving away a butterfly pin she just bought to a lady who told her how she admired it and it reminded her of her brother who had passed away.  Mom worried about everyone else.

For me, my mom was my very best friend.  I was with my mom every day.  My mom was with me for everything.  I can honestly say that I never argued with my mom, even in high school.  I never wanted to hurt her because she was so loving.  Yes, I got annoyed here and there, especially when she got a smart phone and learned to text, anything that popped into her mind came thru my phone at any time day or night, but I would give anything to have that back.  My mom was the one person who I could tell anything to and she never judged me.  She would listen and only would give advice when I wanted it.  She spoiled me rotten  Who else do you know goes to college and their mom comes and does their laundry?  My mom did, I know how spoiled I was.  She just loved so much and just worried for everyone so much and just wanted everyone to be happy.

Joe and I had a great childhood, it cannot be disputed and it was because of my parent’s love.  Joe and I both chose to live right next to our parents as we grew up and raised our families.  I think our situation is unique and it just shows what loving parents we had.  Not only did they show their love for us, but when Joe married Jennifer and I married Scott, they loved them like their own children.

When I think of opposites attract, I instantly think of my mom and dad.  My mom and dad are very different, but they always worked.  My parents were just shy of their 46th wedding anniversary when my mom passed away. My parents provided us a great example of true and unconditional love as they showed it to each other every day.  To say that there weren’t rough times isn’t true, but they taught us the true meaning of love and marriage and that when things get hard, you work harder to keep what you have and you don’t give up.  My mom’s face still lit up when she said my dad’s name up until the week she died.

My mom was not very much for materialistic things.  We always laughed that she had the same purse for about 20 years.  She loved the color purple, butterflies, hummingbirds, sunflowers and she especially loved her casino games, but one of the biggest loves of her life was her grandchildren.  My mom did anything for her seven grandkids.  She always had treats on hand for the kids when they came over, and come over meant to just walk over on any night or weekend and grandma was there with ice cream (with sprinkles of course), cookies, lemonade, anything you’d like.

For me, my mom was with my girls every day.  She would come get them ready for school.  She was with them when they were babies during the day when we worked, taking them to the library for ice cream, to movies, to play with their cousins.  She had sleepovers for all of them, she did anything for her grandkids, including spoiling them rotten,  but they were her world.

As it is evident, my mom touched a lot of lives.  Whether it is just with a smile or a kind word, she touched your life in some way.  She held our family together with love and kindness.  She shines thru all of us.  While she may not physically be here, her spirit is with us. I see her in my children and my nieces and nephew, I see her in my brother and my dad and sometimes, I even see her in me.  I know without a double we will meet again and I thank God every day for giving me 37 years with the greatest woman I ever knew.

 

 

The Best Way I Know How

I don’t know about you, but for me, I can’t seem to make anything I do in life look easy.  I get asked a lot by others how I do it.  If they mean how do I manage to screw everything up, well that’s easy, but if they don’t understand how I do everything I do, that’s absurd because I am always falling thru life like a bull in a china cabinet, usually breaking everything in my path.

My mom’s celebration of life is this week at our home. I want to make it a really good memorial to her.  I regret I didn’t do it when she was alive.  She wouldn’t let me I know, but I regret I didn’t tell her how much she meant to me because she meant the world to me.  I also want to have a celebration for her that is not sad, but happy.  I want everyone to remember my mom during good times and I know she would want that.  When my mom got sick, she didn’t want to see or talk to many people, which at first I thought was odd, but then realized that she did not want people to remember her sick, but happy and in good health so that is what I want to do for her.

Like anyone who has a big get together, you worry about everything you need to do around your house to get things ready. Knowing me, I always overdo everything.  Our house wasn’t bad, it’s not falling down or anything, but I made a massive list of everything that should be “redone” while Scott and I continue to work, I continue to do my business at night, the girls are back in sports and everything else that has to be done.  So of course we are at the week of the party and we are wrapping up about 4,000 projects.  Me, knowing me, it will all be done, but the stress of thinking of everything we have to do is overwhelming and the one person that can always talk me off the ledge is my mom, who ironically cannot talk me off the ledge anymore.

And to be honest, it’s hard having this for my mom. Emotionally it’s killing me.  I am doing all this work and keeping busy which is helping, but we are all doing it for the one person we want to be here.  My heart is broken as I am trying to make sure we have enough sandwiches for 150 people.  I have to do picture boards and I have seen some pictures and they make me cry.  I know its healing but it is killing me.  All the smiles, all the laughs, all the good times.  I want to go back in time and start yelling, “You are going to die at 65, live your life to the fullest”  or, “Go to the doctor, you have cancer, stop it now, get treatment, don’t leave us” and of course I cant.

My dad is having a hard time as it is and I don’t want to break down and not be there for him. I am worried about him and I know he is having a hard time doing this for my mom.  He wants to, but the thought of embracing seeing my mom everywhere on pictures and hearing memories of her is hard as all we want is her back.  I had a dream last night that I was in our field and there were people everywhere talking and laughing and there was my dad, sitting alone.  My mom came up to me and said “Lynn, watch our over dad.  He needs you.”  I know he needs me, I need him, I need to try to pull back from wanting to just stand in my yard and cry on Saturday, but I will try not to, I need to put on a happy face for him and my family and everyone else.  It’s not like they don’t know I am hurting, they do, but they are hurting too and it’s not all about me.  My mom was loved by a lot of people and people need closure.

I think back to when I was a little girl and my mom went thru a lot and she kept it together. She always seemed to have it under control.  She didn’t cry in front of me or yell or just generally look lost like I do.  I wish I could ask her how she did it.  How did she make it look so easy because it’s not, it’s hard as hell.  How did she have it all together when I don’t have anything together?  I feel like I spend a majority of my time yelling at the kids about doing a chore or arguing with each other or crying quietly when no one is looking.  Did she cry at night, was I so wrapped up in being a kid and having fun that I didn’t notice?  I wish I knew, I wish I had her wisdom and knowledge to help me right now.

I hope I am able to honor my mom. I know she would not want anyone to fuss over her, she always fussed over everyone else, but she needs to be remembered for the kind and beautiful spirit she was.  My next goal is to strive to hold it in better.  Strive to push forward without looking like I just got caught in a wind storm coming into work two minutes before eight with pants I found on the floor while trying to get three kids around while I forget they have x activity and need to be somewhere I can’t get them too while they are most likely eating McDonalds because I didn’t make dinner for the 50^th night in a row.  Baby steps, first order of business, honor my mom the best way I know how.

 

Putting the HOT into Hot Mess

Do you feel like your life is one big hot mess?  You don’t?  Then don’t read this.  I’ll ask again, do you feel like your life is one big hot mess?  Yes?  Then read about mine, you will feel better about yourself.

I have said multiple times that I’m a hot mess. First of all, it is 99 percent likely you will find me wearing non-matching socks. I only own one set of matching bra and underwear set and that was a complete fluke because I bought the underwear and the bra at different days, it just so happened that they match.  I never have worn them together until yesterday when I didn’t realize they matched until about 4:00 pm when I was showing my co-worker Kami that there was lace on my big girl panties because she didn’t want to see that and I found it really funny to put my butt in her face (I’m a super good coworker). The reason I never realized this was because I was grabbing my clothes to wear for the day in the dark that were scattered around my bedroom because I haven’t put laundry away in 8.9 years. In case you wondered, I’m exaggerating, I actually put some laundry away this weekend, but it feels like I have about ten years of laundry around my bedroom.

I get up EVERY morning and I start with not getting up on time (I have another blog about that, I won’t bore you with my lazy details). I then stumble around and cuss looking for underwear and clothes and unmatching socks and I say that I am going to get home that night and put laundry away (preview, I don’t).

Anyway, back to me being a hot mess and my life being a hot mess. Last week, one of my diamond rings cracked on the bottom.  Not a big deal, it can get fixed, but it was odd it just broke.  THEN on Wednesday I was going through security at work and went to put my iWatch back on and it flung to the floor and some of the screen broke.  Fantastic, its three months old and I always think ahead so I got insurance on it.  That’s funny, I totally didn’t have insurance.  Here’s what actually happened when I bought my watch.

AT&T: Do you want to add Insurance to your watch?

Me: Oh hell no, this shit is made indestructible, kids are jumping up and down on watch faces all over the world for fun and they don’t break.  And besides, it’s not like I’m a bull in a china cabinet, there’s NO way I would break my watch…

Three months later……

Me: son of a bitch, what in the world is wrong with me that I WOULDN’T get insurance?  I am a bull in a china cabinet every day.

Yeah, so thankfully the top of the watch is the only thing broke so I’m still wearing it. I can get it fixed or get a new one, but I’m so stupid, I never think ahead.

On the parenting front, I’m totally killing it. At night while I’m working on making items for the business (which I am going to pat myself on the back, my business is doing FANTASTIC), anyway I usually have my iPad on and it streams certain shows.  I’ve been into Bob’s Burgers lately which is hilarious, but Lucy likes to wander in and talk and play.  Last night Lucy informed me that for her birthday she wants a Bob’s Burgers themed party with Burgers and everyone can watch Bob’s Burgers.  Yeah, totally not a show for kids, but that would be a hilarious party for a five-year-old.

I think there is a special place in hell for people who pull up to a gas station and park in front of the pumps but don’t get gas. Seriously you lazy asses, park somewhere else.  Why does this bother me?  Because I NEVER get gas in a timely manner and most of the time when I roll into the gas station, I have zero miles to empty, like last week.  Very true story and if your lazy ass took up two spots so you can go get a lottery ticket, I’m pissed.  I should just better prepare, I know this, I don’t want to.

I started unfollowing people on Facebook who constantly post about how much they work. I don’t care you worked 12 hours today.  I really don’t.  Unless you worked 12 hours and you are telling me because you are an eight year old, then who cares.  It’s called being an adult.  We all do it.  If you don’t do it, then you are lucky or you choose to live in a box, but whatever.  I have chosen to work and I have chosen to start a business and I have chosen to have kids and I have chosen to be busy.  If you are working 12 hour days and then you get like four days off on a normal week, then just divide it by the normal work week.  I would prefer if I read, “Whew, what a day, it was a tough four hour one, I need a vacation!”  Money makes the world go round and in order to get that money, you work.

You can tell me how you’re sick of reading my blog and my grief and my life. I totally get that, but just don’t read it.  I unfollowed people on Facebook because their shit makes me roll my eyes.  If I’m rolling my eyes at you, I’m wasting my time.  There are 400 billion people on this earth (not a real number of people), so I can find someone else who will amuse me.

I am totally dreading back to school. I got a text that cheer practice starts next week and I think I cried a little.  I am totally lazy, I don’t want to go sit at practice and watch Lilly do the splits.  I mean, I want to watch them PLAY the sports, I don’t want to sit and watch them practice the sport or know I have to go somewhere after I get done for the day from work or whatever else I have to do.  Call me a bad parent, call me a lazy parent, call me an honest parent, I don’t care.  Am I still going to take them to their practices?  Hell yeah I am.  Am I still going to dread it?  Hell yeah I am!

So basically my post today is about how I’m killing it (I’m not). I think I’m killing it all, my work, my business, my kids, my no matching socks.  I’m a hot mess, but I am proud of that hot messiness.  I am embracing it all, the crazy, the fun, the sadness, the life.  Carry on with your lives, no matter how clean and neat or messy and organized they look, and let’s laugh and enjoy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Putting Humpty Dumpty Back Together Again…

I have all these thoughts in my head and I just can’t seem to get them into some form of understanding.  I have tried for a few weeks to write a new blog post and each time I try, I stop because I just feel like I am rambling.  I guess today is the day I will try to get my rant into some form of consistency.

The last few weeks I have had a hard time talking to people. Just general every day hello is enough to make me want to go back to bed.  I have all this frustration that I don’t want to waste my time giving pleasantries.  If I am work I want to just hide in my office and do my work, I don’t want to engage in any day to day chatter.  If I am at home, I want to talk to Scott and the girls, but after that I want to hide in my office and work on something creative.

I have a huge amount of sadness every day. I would say that if I go a day without crying, it’s a rare day.  Last weekend, we had a ton of family at our house, all working to help us drywall our garage.  My closest friends and my family all together, laughing, kids running and playing, working, just being together and it broke my heart.  When I normally would be in the middle of it laughing along, I had to walk away.  The reason we were there was to work on something to get ready for my mom’s celebration of life.  We were doing something together that my mom loved, she lived for and here we were, without her.  I went to bed that night and I cried myself to sleep.  I woke up crying, I went thru my day and that night I cried again and again all night Monday night.  Those moments that I used to love are killing me.

I feel SO guilty about this. I feel like I am letting everyone down.  I also have a huge amount of frustration when I encounter people who want to talk and I can’t because I don’t want to exactly explain what my issue is.  I saw my BFF who I pay to be my BFF (my therapist) and she helped me understand what is happening.  On the outside I look okay.  Unless you see me crying, which I try to do when no one is around or it is late at night.  But I look okay; I look like there is nothing wrong.  On the inside I am completely broken.  She said that right now, I am in a hospital bed in a cast and every single piece of me is shattered, and I am trying to heal.  I said I am humpty dumpty, broken in a million pieces and trying to put them back together again.

I have said before I am the same Lynn, but that’s a lie. I am not the same Lynn.  The core of me is there, but I am not me.  She said that someday I will find me again.  I will never be the same me because that me is gone with my mom into another time, but the core of me will shine thru.  I rarely see the Lynn I was.  I have realized that what I was when my mom was alive was carefree, I had a sense of calm I don’t have anymore.  There are a few times that I my mind tells me she is alive and for those 30 seconds, I feel that freeing person, that Lynn, but it goes away quickly and the hole sets in again.

I am trying to find the Lynn I am now. It feels like an endless cycle of sadness, but I know that will break eventually.  I am not saying this so people do not talk to me.  I am saying this so maybe some will understand that the person that stands in front of them isn’t the same person that stood there six months ago.  My thoughts and feelings change so rapidly that I can start the day feeling one way and by noon I feel a totally different way.

I want to tell people who come up to me at work that I just can’t talk. That most days, it took every ounce I have to get out of bed.  That all I can do is sit and work because if I try to do any more, it will break me.  That sometimes I am okay to chat or okay to do more, but most days, I just can’t do it.  I want others to understand that most days, I don’t want to go anywhere than home.  I just want to be with Scott and the girls.  That even leaving the house to get groceries is a huge chore because I just want to be home.

As I say I want to be home, being home kills me. I was working in our garage on Saturday and all I see when I look out is my parent’s house.  I saw my dad and brother and nephew working on cleaning something on the roof.  I kept staring and I swear, she was there on the porch with them.  I stared so hard just to see her, and I just couldn’t.  Everything around me reminds me of my mom.  I can’t escape it, but there are days I really want to.  I want a break.

I feel like an awful parent this summer. I feel like I have let my girls down.  My girls have laid low this summer and only been with family.  While my girls are not open about losing my mom, I know it has taken a large toll on them.  The end of school was hard for them, Lilly was fighting with a lot of her friends and Lyvia was just done with people and all their drama.  Lucy will not talk about my mom until she is ready and then she will ask at random times, why won’t she come home or she wonders if granny is in heaven running around.  I may seem like a bad mom, but it’s okay.  My girls did not lose the grandma they saw a few times a year, they lost the person who was with them from the moment they were born, every day when they woke up, every day when they got off the  bus, every summer.  They lost a parent and I am trying to not feel bad about letting them just be this summer, just relax, not worry about other friends and what they are doing or what activities they are or should be in.  I just want them to relax and enjoy and try to work through how they feel in their own way.

I was told that all of this is normal. I am told that what is happening is okay. I feel selfish, but then I feel numb, then I feel sad, then I feel angry, then I feel calm, then I feel okay.  I’m sorry my blog isn’t as funny and lighthearted as it had been in the past, it will get back to that.  I am still functionally dysfunctional.  Maybe I’m just dysfunctional right now, but that’s okay too.  If you see me, imagine me in a cast, laying in a hospital bed, trying to heal.  It is going to take me a long time, like putting Humpty Dumpty back together again.

The Blue Marshmallow

I hate writing about losing my mom all the time, I don’t want my readers to think that my blog has become one depressing post after post because it’s not all depression and grief, but my life is dealing with grief every day and this is my blog to write about my life so if you’re following along, you get to see the good and bad sides.

As I work through my grief every day, different things trigger me in different ways and it is not the same of everybody. Everyone in my family is triggered by different items they see or things they feel or hear or smell.

One thing that is a huge trigger for me is my mom’s car. You would think who cares about a car, but for me, it just screams “mom”.  I mentioned in a post a few times back that my mom was not into material things.  She would always tell me how she liked my cars or things in my house but that “they aren’t for me”.  She had her car for 15 years at least.  It was this blue Mercury and when you drove it, it felt like you were driving on a marshmallow.  It’s horrible in the snow, it only had a tape player and she would move the seat all the way up as she always told us she had “short legs”.

I haven’t seen anyone else drive a car like my mom’s so whenever you saw it, you knew it was my mom coming. I live next to my parents, so I can see out of my garage to their house and I could always see my mom’s car sitting there and I knew she was home doing something.  She had all of my girls in that car from babies thru when she no longer drove it.  She took them to school, shopping, trips for ice cream, to the library, everywhere.  The blue marshmallow never died and my mom never wanted to get rid of it.

The day after my mom died I was getting ready in our bedroom and I looked out the window of our second floor and saw her car in the garage and said, “Oh good, mom’s home.” That killed me.  That same day, I was driving down the driveway with Lucy when she said the same thing, “Granny’s home!” and that killed me.  That day my dad put the car in another barn so we didn’t have to see it.  The car belongs to Lyvia, she always told my mom how she wanted to drive it when she turned 16 and my mom always told her she could.  Lyvia will not be 16 for four years; I have four years to try to face my heartache of the blue marshmallow.

The Saturday before I left for Vegas I had to run to my parents’ house to pick something up. My dad was gone so I jumped in his old truck and hit the garage door to their house.  It didn’t come up so I hit the other button, which opened it up.  I walked into their house, casually walked out, looked out of the garage and there sat in the opened barn door, the blue car as I had accidentally hit the button to open the barn door.  I instantly felt nauseous but I was alone and it felt like it was calling me.

I already have a hard time when I go to my parents’ house and no one is home. I often times talk out loud to my mom.  I ask her if she is listening, I hope she sees me and knows we are okay.  Memories of her are everywhere I look, I cannot escape her and that night, I couldn’t escape the car.  I slowly walked to the car and opened it and proceeded to sit down.  God bless my brother, he had her seat in the same place it was the last time he started it up, right up to the steering wheel.  The car smelled just like my mom, everything as she had left it was there.  I reached down and grabbed one glove was sitting next to me.  The car seat the girls used was in the back, nothing had been touched.

I sat in that car for a long time and I cried, thinking the last time my mom parked it, thinking it was just another day but it was the last time. I thought of the last time my mom left our house, thinking she would be back to see the girls again, but never came home.  I thought about my parents’ house and how everything was when she left, it’s still there in the same spot, untouched.  It’s as if she is there and I am just waiting for her to walk out.  I was waiting for her to ask me why her car was in the barn.  I wanted to make a joke about why the hell she has the seat so close to the steering wheel.  I was waiting and waiting and all I got was silence.

It was good for me to go thru that, to sit there, to smell her, to think of fond memories. As deep as the hurt is, I cannot block her out of my life because she’s there.  She may not physically be there, but she’s with me every day.  I think that when I see Lyvia drive the blue marshmallow, I am going to have a bittersweet feeling.  I am going to see my mom driving with Lyvia in a car seat in the back and then I am going to blink and see my daughter driving.  I am going to need a lot more time before I can see that blue car every day, but I made a step forward, a small step, but a step.