When Are You Due?

“When are you due?”  “Are you pregnant?” “Take care of that little baby of ours!” (Ours??) “How far along are you?” **rubs my belly**  Or the worst of all – “Please tell me you’re getting fat and not pregnant!”

If I had a dollar for every time I’ve been asked that by a patient since I started working out of the home, I would be at least halfway to my new tattoo (it’ll be of Audrey Hepburn, by the way, by the one and only Sarah Miller!  But I digress…).

Not a week, NOT ONE, has gone by, without someone asking about my “pregnancy”.  I had 7 people in 4 days straight say it in one way or another.  Do you know what it’s like to say LOUDLY, in a room full of patients, that you’re not pregnant; that you’re just fat???  Do you?????  Do you know how hard it is to laugh it off too?????   Yes, I imagine that there might be a reader or two out there with similar situations, but not the whole lot of you.

I had two kids.  I got lazy.  I ate a lot.  But, on the brighter side, I’ve lost 15 lbs in the last couple of months.  I’m not down to my goal weight yet, but I’ll get there.  You can bet your ass, I will.  Will my stomach ever get back to “normal”?  You can bet your ass, it won’t.  But I’m still going to lose it anyway, because I’m tired of these….these….motherfuckers (YES.  I fucking said it.) saying this shit to me all the time.

There are clothes that I bought that I love to wear.  They happen to accentuate my misshapen body.  It’s not going to stop me from wearing them.  And if you’re sitting there saying “Wear looser clothes, then.” – fine.  You go out and buy them for me.  These are the clothes that I like.  And one day, I’ll fit even better into them.

No matter what they say, I still get compliments, winks and different types of proposals too.  Granted, I’m married – no harm, no foul though.  All of these people don’t know when to keep their mouths shut, no matter what it’s saying.

Until I do lose the weight that I want, go ahead and say something to my face.  I’ve been wanting to throat-punch a bitch so bad these days.  And like I said before, I’m Flawless…

Queen of the Castle

No, I haven’t done a 180° on you.  I’m just recalling a phrase I used a week or so ago with my husband.  I was explaining to him (and trying desperately to convince myself) that I’m the head of this household, in looser terms.  This WAHM isn’t the breadwinner of the family by any means, but I would like to think that it is my duty to be in charge of the house proper.  Problem is, I’m still having trouble convincing myself of that, especially when I’m being bossed around by a 3-year-old, among other things.

I don’t know if it’s a sad thing to think of maintaining my house as a job, but having a job made me feel important.  Yes, I feel important, for the most part, in my daughters’ lives.  I say “for the most part” because, if you read the previous post, you’ll understand at this point I’m not feeling very important at all.  (Although, I am doing a bit better and not as “paralyzed” as yesterday.)  I worked for at the same organization for 15 years.  Since having my first daughter, I haven’t worked outside of the home, with the exception of a part-time 3 week stint for the job I’m working now, for 3 1/2 years.  It starts to do a number on you.

I’m not sure where I’m trying to go with this, other than to get something off my chest.  Maybe to explain my crash and burn from yesterday.  Maybe even to see if someone has a trick up their sleeve to make me actually believe that I run this place.  Other moms have multiple children, pets (who are practically like additional children), work from home and still find it in themselves to cook fabulous meals in their idyllic homes.  I’m not being a smart ass.   I want to know how it’s done.  I can’t say I don’t have the time, because I know I do.  When I’m down in the dumps like this, the clock ticks by ever-so-slowly.  The time is there; the motivation and/or experience is/are not.

Did I get myself in too deep?  I mean, it’s too late now.  I would normally say that I’m in it to win it (stupid, yes but truthful).  But did I?  People used to come to me for help/advice/lessons because I knew what I was doing.  Dammit, I was left in charge of buildings too many times to count.  Now I can barely tell my ass from a hole in the ground.  What the hell happened to me?  (Didn’t I ask something like that in the last post?)

Since yesterday, I’ve had quite a few people contact me, concerned for my well-being.  I thank all of you for your thoughts and apologize for your worries.  Like I said in my last post, I’ve been through worse than this.  And I’m still here.  You can’t get rid of me that easily.  I’m not out of the woods yet, but I’m working on it.  Getting blindsided like that can really send you into a downward spiral right quick.  But I appreciate the love a great deal.

I think I’ve clichéd the shit out of this post, so I’ll call it quits for now.  Have to go see who is going to deliver an average dinner to my imperfect home.



That sums up my brain right now.  I’m intimidated by everything that is floating through my head right now and I don’t know where to begin.  All I really want right now is to be left alone, but that’s not going to happen.  This isn’t a complaint about any of my kids, human or furry.  I just need an empty house with the possible promise to myself that I will actually do something useful around here.  But that in itself is tough to give myself.

I want the screaming and whining to stop.  I want to rip my skin off.  I want to go back several years and find that woman who had a take-charge kind of attitude that got shit done.  I want to take a nap.  I want someone to watch my kids for a few hours so I can do any of these things (minus the skin thing.)  I want my neck and back pain to go away (maybe a new bed?  Yeah, right.).  I want to get my work done.  I want to have the miracle of all miracles and have my oldest potty trained by the end of the day.  Yes, I want a lot of things.  It doesn’t end there.   This is the clusterfuck that is my life at this moment.  It’s trivial bullshit, but I’m stuck in that paralyzed mode again and my priorities are just blowing in the wind.

I don’t know what I’m really looking for here.  Almost certainly not a canned inspirational response.  I’m more of a person that needs some bluntness behind it (not too much) so that it resonates with me.  Or maybe I’m not looking for anything at all.  There’s one thing on my pile of things to do that if I could just somehow pass it off, a huge anxiety boulder would be lifted off my shoulder.  I was prepared to take care of it for about 10 minutes yesterday but I was in the middle of some other work and didn’t want to stop what I was doing.  Seemed like the right thing to do.

I think I’m starting to repeat myself (and bore you), so that’s enough from me for now.  Maybe I’ll have a more positive, less clusterfucked (love that word) post next time around.  Wish me luck…

~ S


I hate what’s wrong with me.  I especially hate it when I haven’t leveled off or even when I’m manic.  I already felt like ripping my skin off (not a new feeling), although I think my face brush took off a layer or two so that helped.

I’m not fit to be a mom.  I’m not fit to be a wife.  I’m just a waste of space.

No, nothing is going to happen.  I’ll be fine.  I always am.  These sentences just keep repeating themselves in my head and I had to get them out.  I CAN’T STAND the way I feel sometimes.  And this is such a shit post.  But I’m keeping it.  Not so you feel sorry for me.  I needed to get it out.

I just hate not knowing what I’m actually fit for.


New Year, New Me?

Yesterday, I posted a saying on my Facebook timeline- “Tomorrow is the first blank page of a 365 page book.  Write a good one.  2014“.  I said to myself – and my husband – that this isn’t a bad idea, meaning to take it quite literally.  Granted, I don’t know if anyone will read it.  I think that’s half of my purpose in doing this, but I’ll be realistic about it.  In any case, if I write something every day for the next year (which would be the “new me” part), at least I’ll have something to remember the year in the end.

Not a very good draw-them-in first paragraph, I know.  What I do know is that I always have a million things going on in my head and I’m mostly around a 3-year-old and 7 month old.  It has to get out somehow and it’s either lost upon or drowned out by, at least, one of them.  No brainer there.

Is it going to be “a good one”?  Everyone has their opinion.  Just don’t think that this is going to be one of those life-affirming, rainbow-creating gems that everyone wants to read at the beginning of a new year so that maybe, just maybe, they’ll retain some sort of positive outlook on life.  I do have a dark side with a rapier wit.  There’s a lighter side to me too.  It just depends on the day and whether there is Xanax left or not.

If it does get dark around here, don’t think of it as a cry for help.  I need a place to rant, get things off my chest, out of my mind.  Most likely, I’m not the only one who feels or thinks certain things.

So the first page is done.  A bit boring and nothing really learned from it, but if the “new me” sticks around and keeps up with this, you may very well be in for one hell of a ride.

~ S