...is overrated.
Or at least that's what I'm telling myself.
School is coming up oh-so-quickly. I've been counting the days, since
baseball ended that is. The kids have been bored and I've been at a physical
standstill.
I berate myself daily about how little I've gotten done.
Truth be told, I have zero motivation. None. Zip. Zilch.
I thought it would return after The Patriarch went back out of town. Knowing
I didn't have the advantage of waiting for him to do it should have kicked me
into high gear. Instead, it has put me in complete Park mode.
I do the absolute minimum that I'll let myself get away with. Which, some
days, is no more than getting out of bed and making sure the kids aren't
killing each other.
This often incurs lectures from my mom about how I need to, "get off my
ass," to quote her directly.
What my mom, and countless other people, haven't come to understand is that
no matter how much I want to "get off my ass," sometimes I just
cannot.
I go to bed thinking about all the things that I want to accomplish the next
day because I managed so little that particular day. I have lists of things
that should be done. In my defense, if it's pressing and needs to get
done I do it, but if it can wait, it does.
I put on a pretty good front for my acquaintances, most wouldn't guess that
behind closed doors I suffer from debilitating depression. Hell, some of my
close friends were shocked when they figured it out.
I'm not depressed in a way that makes me suicidal. I have too much to live
for. Those three pains in my ass, The Patriarch, and my mom are the first five
things that come to mind. Although, I do wonder at times if they wouldn't be
better off without this lump that can go from quietly reading to ready
to snap at break-neck speed. That's always as far as it goes.
I sit in front of my computer every day with the intention to work on my
next book. Every. Single. Day. Then the voice in my head starts. It questions
why I even bother, I'll never be good, I'll never be a best seller. It tells me
all the negativity surrounding everything I do. Sometimes, I reach in the back
of my brain and kick his ass, other days, he wins. I don't write.
Everything that I enjoy doing has its own voice of doom. Even things
that I don't enjoy doing but are an evil necessary have one.
When it's time to work, "Don't take that job, you're not a real teacher
anyhow."
When it's time to play, "They only hang out with you because they feel
bad for you."
When it's time to clean, "Why bother, it won't ever be good
enough."
When there's time for sex, "Seriously, you want to get naked? Have you
seen yourself?"
Every. Damn. Thing.
And sometimes I fight it off and I win, but most of the time, I just sit there.
Sit there and do nothing until the shame spiral leads me deep into the
catacombs where it takes days or weeks to even attempt to function again.
So, if you see me out, know that day I kicked that little bastard's ass. If
I don't answer my phone, know I'm battling or recouping. If you see a blog post
after some time of silence, I won the skirmish, but not the battle. It's that
complicated.
~Kim
Monday, August 8, 2016
Wednesday, August 3, 2016
It's Funny How Things...
Come out when you least expect it.
The other day, the middle one and I were out running errands.
He, being a typical smart assed teenager, was giving me crap about something I had said that he just HAD to argue with (with no valid argument I might add). I can't even remember what started the goofy exchange, but here's how it played out:
Me: Well, I'm left-handed.
SaT (Smart Ass Teen): Why?
Me: Because I was born that way.
SaT: Why weren't you born right handed?
Me: I didn't have a choice. (getting annoyed with his crappy retorts)
SaT: Yes you did. You could have been born right handed if you wanted to be.
Me: Shut up, SaT.
SaT: Is either Grandma or Grandpa left handed?
Me: Nope, but it doesn't matter.
SaT: Why?
Me: Because I was adopted, remember?
SaT: Wait. (long pause) WHAT?!
Me: You knew I was adopted!
SaT: NO! This is the first time I'm hearing this, MOM!
Me: Well, shit. Now you know.
This was followed by a lot of questions and a long conversation.
I'm such a fine parent...
~Kim
The other day, the middle one and I were out running errands.
He, being a typical smart assed teenager, was giving me crap about something I had said that he just HAD to argue with (with no valid argument I might add). I can't even remember what started the goofy exchange, but here's how it played out:
Me: Well, I'm left-handed.
SaT (Smart Ass Teen): Why?
Me: Because I was born that way.
SaT: Why weren't you born right handed?
Me: I didn't have a choice. (getting annoyed with his crappy retorts)
SaT: Yes you did. You could have been born right handed if you wanted to be.
Me: Shut up, SaT.
SaT: Is either Grandma or Grandpa left handed?
Me: Nope, but it doesn't matter.
SaT: Why?
Me: Because I was adopted, remember?
SaT: Wait. (long pause) WHAT?!
Me: You knew I was adopted!
SaT: NO! This is the first time I'm hearing this, MOM!
Me: Well, shit. Now you know.
This was followed by a lot of questions and a long conversation.
I'm such a fine parent...
~Kim
Tuesday, August 2, 2016
You Know, It's Okay...
To be unhappy.
Once again, hear me out.
Yes, there are people out there who have it worse than you do, but what's happening to you is happening to YOU! You're entitled to feel however you want to feel about the situation.
Yes, there are altruistic people out there doing the unthinkable. You should empathize with them, but that doesn't change the weight of your own feelings.
If your shoelace broke and you had to walk five blocks home before you could change shoes, feel annoyed, angry, or upset.
When you think, "There are people out there who don't even have shoes and here I am complaining that I had to walk five measly blocks home," you're right. There are people who have it worse than you do, BUT your life and your feelings are still valid. You can still be pissed off.
It's okay.
If you're so inclined, do something for someone without shoes.
If you're hungry and only have money for peanut butter and jelly, it's okay to be pissed.
Yes, there are people all over the world that go hungry. Feel empathy for them. Do something to help feed them, but you can still be mad that you don't have the money for something more.
Feelings of dissatisfaction with things that happen in your life aren't any less valid because you don't suffer as much as someone else.
As long as you can feel empathy.
Also, as long as you don't live there. Be annoyed, angry, sad, disheartened, happy, proud...be all of it or any of it...It's happening to you. You can feel any thing you want to feel. Just don't set up camp there.
Do something nice, when you can, for people who ARE less fortunate than you, but don't feel like it should invalidate your feelings.
~Kim
Once again, hear me out.
Yes, there are people out there who have it worse than you do, but what's happening to you is happening to YOU! You're entitled to feel however you want to feel about the situation.
Yes, there are altruistic people out there doing the unthinkable. You should empathize with them, but that doesn't change the weight of your own feelings.
If your shoelace broke and you had to walk five blocks home before you could change shoes, feel annoyed, angry, or upset.
When you think, "There are people out there who don't even have shoes and here I am complaining that I had to walk five measly blocks home," you're right. There are people who have it worse than you do, BUT your life and your feelings are still valid. You can still be pissed off.
It's okay.
If you're so inclined, do something for someone without shoes.
If you're hungry and only have money for peanut butter and jelly, it's okay to be pissed.
Yes, there are people all over the world that go hungry. Feel empathy for them. Do something to help feed them, but you can still be mad that you don't have the money for something more.
Feelings of dissatisfaction with things that happen in your life aren't any less valid because you don't suffer as much as someone else.
As long as you can feel empathy.
Also, as long as you don't live there. Be annoyed, angry, sad, disheartened, happy, proud...be all of it or any of it...It's happening to you. You can feel any thing you want to feel. Just don't set up camp there.
Do something nice, when you can, for people who ARE less fortunate than you, but don't feel like it should invalidate your feelings.
~Kim
When You Realize...
You really love the man that you married, it's both amazing and heart wrenching.
The last two days are so different from the seven years before it.
No, really...Hear me out.
In nine months time, I've adjust to having the other half of me home. I didn't realize how much I had adjusted to him being around.
Although he worked third shift for the last part of his stint at home, he was still there. There were still reasons to say, "Shhhh! Dad's sleeping!" or "Yes you can use the upstairs bathroom, but be quiet." or "Please tell your friends not to knock on the door 300 times because the dog barking will wake up your dad!"
The guilt of not cleaning up during the day and watching him do it at night is gone. The threat of "I'm going to tell your father" is also gone. The complaining that every time I go to bed, I have to remake it because he can't throw a blanket across when he gets up is gone, as well.
People always say, "it's the little things," and it is.
It's the arguing over who forgot to put dinner leftovers in the refrigerator, or who ate the last "grown-up" cookie. It's sitting on the couch laughing about the other's choice of Netflix program. Folding laundry and complaining about the way the other is folding the shirts.
Now, there's none of that except on rotation and that's different.
I miss him.
~Kim
The last two days are so different from the seven years before it.
No, really...Hear me out.
In nine months time, I've adjust to having the other half of me home. I didn't realize how much I had adjusted to him being around.
Although he worked third shift for the last part of his stint at home, he was still there. There were still reasons to say, "Shhhh! Dad's sleeping!" or "Yes you can use the upstairs bathroom, but be quiet." or "Please tell your friends not to knock on the door 300 times because the dog barking will wake up your dad!"
The guilt of not cleaning up during the day and watching him do it at night is gone. The threat of "I'm going to tell your father" is also gone. The complaining that every time I go to bed, I have to remake it because he can't throw a blanket across when he gets up is gone, as well.
People always say, "it's the little things," and it is.
It's the arguing over who forgot to put dinner leftovers in the refrigerator, or who ate the last "grown-up" cookie. It's sitting on the couch laughing about the other's choice of Netflix program. Folding laundry and complaining about the way the other is folding the shirts.
Now, there's none of that except on rotation and that's different.
I miss him.
~Kim
Sunday, July 31, 2016
Broken Isn't Always...
What it seems.
Today my family becomes broken again.
We've had some crazy changes in the family in the last year.
My husband came home from the oilfields last year when the market tanked. He took a huge pay cut and it took a toll on our family.
We kept looking at the future. We're together! After years and years of being apart, we were finally together! What could go wrong?
I always joke that him working away from home kept our marriage together. We had our own rhythm, in our own ways. We drove each other absolutely insane for the first few months. We never fought (like in the old days), but you could tell we were on the edge.
We found a groove and the bills found a home. On my sofa table in my living room. Living got very tight. Functioning as we had before was a near impossibility. The kids had to sacrifice.
That's when we decided something needed to change.
The oilfields became viable again.
And today, well technically in the wee hours of tomorrow morning, he'll be gone again.
It's a real reality check for both of us. The kids will be able to resume their normal carefree lives (and before you lecture me, yes, I think if you can do it, your kids should be carefree!). I'll be able to pay the bills on time, but now we're all sacrificing in a different way.
People will judge what we decide is best for our family, and to those who do: I don't give a fuck what you think.
We've got a plan. I'm sure it's fluid, but we've got a plan. It's going to keep me busy. And the Patriarch to my Matriarch as well.
I hope the kids understand and remember the sacrifices we all made (them included) so they could have the lives that he and I think they deserve.
Parenting is hard. Being married is hard. Life is hard. Don't live in fear of what could be. Take the chances. Live the life. Love your significant other. And parent like a blind man in a china shop.
~Kim
Today my family becomes broken again.
We've had some crazy changes in the family in the last year.
My husband came home from the oilfields last year when the market tanked. He took a huge pay cut and it took a toll on our family.
We kept looking at the future. We're together! After years and years of being apart, we were finally together! What could go wrong?
I always joke that him working away from home kept our marriage together. We had our own rhythm, in our own ways. We drove each other absolutely insane for the first few months. We never fought (like in the old days), but you could tell we were on the edge.
We found a groove and the bills found a home. On my sofa table in my living room. Living got very tight. Functioning as we had before was a near impossibility. The kids had to sacrifice.
That's when we decided something needed to change.
The oilfields became viable again.
And today, well technically in the wee hours of tomorrow morning, he'll be gone again.
It's a real reality check for both of us. The kids will be able to resume their normal carefree lives (and before you lecture me, yes, I think if you can do it, your kids should be carefree!). I'll be able to pay the bills on time, but now we're all sacrificing in a different way.
People will judge what we decide is best for our family, and to those who do: I don't give a fuck what you think.
We've got a plan. I'm sure it's fluid, but we've got a plan. It's going to keep me busy. And the Patriarch to my Matriarch as well.
I hope the kids understand and remember the sacrifices we all made (them included) so they could have the lives that he and I think they deserve.
Parenting is hard. Being married is hard. Life is hard. Don't live in fear of what could be. Take the chances. Live the life. Love your significant other. And parent like a blind man in a china shop.
~Kim
Friday, July 29, 2016
What I Don't Understand Is...
...why women feel the need to cut each other down.
I mean, seriously, why?
Look...You can like Donald Trump. You can like Hillary Clinton. You can like Gary Johnson. You can like Bernie Sanders. It's okay, you're allowed. It's called autonomy. You can make your own decisions.
Some of the stuff I see on social media is driving me insane. It really is.
I don't begrudge you your opinions. Obviously, I have my own (and you're here, reading them so you already know that), but seriously, why do you have to cut other women down?
There are a plethora of posts running around Facebook (and I'm sure other social media as well) about Victoria Woodhull being the first female president nominee.
This is true. Her running mate was Frederick Douglas, a black man, and they were part of the Equal Rights Party (imagine that) in 1872...They appeared on 0...yes ZERO ballots in the United States.
There have been 3rd parties nominating women since 1872. THIRD PARTIES. Not one of the two major political parties that "We the people" have created over the years.
Hillary Clinton is the first viable female candidate ever nominated by one of the two major parties.
It's not saying the nominations of the previous parties mean any less.
For example, I'm sure there were several female CEOs before the first one appointed to a Fortune 500 company, but that first appointment to a major player was STILL historic.
Even if you don't like Hillary Clinton, don't deny my daughter the ability to see that women can do ANYTHING. There's even the possibility to rule one of the most powerful countries on the planet.
Just because you don't like her doesn't give you the right to belittle what she has achieved.
And that achievement will empower little girls from now until the end of time as we know it.
Stop cutting people down. Period.
Women have enough people cutting them down without their own gender doing it too.
~Kim
female nominees found here
I mean, seriously, why?
Look...You can like Donald Trump. You can like Hillary Clinton. You can like Gary Johnson. You can like Bernie Sanders. It's okay, you're allowed. It's called autonomy. You can make your own decisions.
Some of the stuff I see on social media is driving me insane. It really is.
I don't begrudge you your opinions. Obviously, I have my own (and you're here, reading them so you already know that), but seriously, why do you have to cut other women down?
There are a plethora of posts running around Facebook (and I'm sure other social media as well) about Victoria Woodhull being the first female president nominee.
This is true. Her running mate was Frederick Douglas, a black man, and they were part of the Equal Rights Party (imagine that) in 1872...They appeared on 0...yes ZERO ballots in the United States.
There have been 3rd parties nominating women since 1872. THIRD PARTIES. Not one of the two major political parties that "We the people" have created over the years.
Hillary Clinton is the first viable female candidate ever nominated by one of the two major parties.
It's not saying the nominations of the previous parties mean any less.
For example, I'm sure there were several female CEOs before the first one appointed to a Fortune 500 company, but that first appointment to a major player was STILL historic.
Even if you don't like Hillary Clinton, don't deny my daughter the ability to see that women can do ANYTHING. There's even the possibility to rule one of the most powerful countries on the planet.
Just because you don't like her doesn't give you the right to belittle what she has achieved.
And that achievement will empower little girls from now until the end of time as we know it.
Stop cutting people down. Period.
Women have enough people cutting them down without their own gender doing it too.
~Kim
female nominees found here
I'll Just Turn Off the WiFi...
"That's okay, I'll just use my phone," responds one teen.
"How am I supposed to know when the guys are at the park?" queries the other.
"My Kindle won't work!" squeals the girl.
Go outside and play. Go get dirty. Get sweaty. Swim. Play basketball.
"It's too hot out," states one child.
"You turned off the WiFi so I have no way of knowing where my friends are," complains another.
"I want go to to Gramma's," demands the third.
I try to think back to when I was a kid.
I lived on 3 acres with my nearest neighbor (who didn't even have kids my age) about a quarter of a mile away.
I had woods, a pond, a dairy farm across the street, and acres of play area. I read books, I played pretend, I mowed the grass (on a riding lawn mower so it was more fun than work!). I probably complained as much as my own kids do. Except there was only one of me.
Now I have to watch who they're talking to on social media. I have to explain to them over and over again (because Heaven forbid any of them actually listen the FIRST time) about the dangers of predators who are not who they say they are.
I can't just drop them off at the mall, they could get shot. I can't let them go to the park until the street lights come on because I have to worry about them getting robbed. Even letting them walk to a friend's house incites a twenty minute conversation about being aware of your surroundings.
What the hell has the world come to?
"Never mind, I'll turn the WiFi back on."
~Kim
"How am I supposed to know when the guys are at the park?" queries the other.
"My Kindle won't work!" squeals the girl.
Go outside and play. Go get dirty. Get sweaty. Swim. Play basketball.
"It's too hot out," states one child.
"You turned off the WiFi so I have no way of knowing where my friends are," complains another.
"I want go to to Gramma's," demands the third.
I try to think back to when I was a kid.
I lived on 3 acres with my nearest neighbor (who didn't even have kids my age) about a quarter of a mile away.
I had woods, a pond, a dairy farm across the street, and acres of play area. I read books, I played pretend, I mowed the grass (on a riding lawn mower so it was more fun than work!). I probably complained as much as my own kids do. Except there was only one of me.
Now I have to watch who they're talking to on social media. I have to explain to them over and over again (because Heaven forbid any of them actually listen the FIRST time) about the dangers of predators who are not who they say they are.
I can't just drop them off at the mall, they could get shot. I can't let them go to the park until the street lights come on because I have to worry about them getting robbed. Even letting them walk to a friend's house incites a twenty minute conversation about being aware of your surroundings.
What the hell has the world come to?
"Never mind, I'll turn the WiFi back on."
~Kim
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