Reaching Into My Brain
New year, new me.
I am trying to be more positive in my everyday life. I have plenty of reason to be that way. Great husband, great kids and wonderful grandkids.
I am still struggling with my smoking. While I don’t smoke nearly as much as I used to, I am still smuggling them here and there. Part of the new me will continue to fight. But more than just trying to quit, I am reaching into my brain to learn about myself. More on that later.
I am still struggling with my weight and eating habits. Healthier food choices are around the house. More fruits and vegetables are coming into the house and I am experimenting with different ways of cooking/flavoring old favorites. More than just trying these things, I am reaching into my brain once again.
Why am making the choices that are taking me into difficult directions?
I am becoming more aware that much of it is boredom. If I am not actively jumping around with Logan or cleaning the house, I am attached to something. Laptop, phone, or kindle, it matters not. I am scrolling the news sites, playing a game or two, or laughing with friends. In an effort to cut back on this, I am back to my needlepoint. I MUST keep my hands busy.
“For Satan always finds some mischief still for idle hands to do.” ~ Isaac Watts
Ah, yes. Those proverbial ‘idle hands’…
Not tapping on a keyboard, or a screen. ..not touching the needlepoint while I watch tv…not stuffing my face with chips or popcorn while reading… all bring about the cravings. Food? Chips? No. I’m not hungry. I don’t know what it is, but my psyche is itchy.
And so I smoke.
Or else I don’t.
Instead I realize that I want a smoke as a replacement for the food. I hold out against the smoke and feel proud of myself for resisting. But I still want….something.
So I reach for the chips,
It is a circle of cravings, resistance, pride, indulgence, despair, cravings…..
I won’t let it get me down. Realization is the biggest part of the struggle. Now the next step will be finding the balance that will help the cravings without indulgence or despair.
Nowhere To Gift
I want to clean my basement. It is piled high in a 7×7′ area with Christmas decorations and 5×5′ with Halloween decorations. There are bins of seasonal clothes, sheets and drapes, and books. Hubs has one half of the basement, where he keeps surplus work supplies like wire, tools, our AC units, etc. All of these things will stay, perhaps thinned out, but still here.
As I looked around, I saw other things. Kitchen items that I saved for Son1. He didn’t need them, but when I tried to get rid of them, Son2 protested with the argument that he or Babygirl would need them. Other kitchen items are mine, too big for storage in my tiny kitchen.
But there are still more than a few boxes and bins. These are mine and I want everything in them.
Over the 31 years of being married, I have received some awesome gifts. I have quite a few items of Native American pottery and kachina dolls. They used to be displayed on our entertainment center, but when we got our flatscreen attached to the wall, they were packed away. Right now, my brother is displaying his own collection of pottery and I am jealous. I am also very fond of snow globes. I have several, some for certain holidays and some for every day. Still…..nowhere to display them.
And pictures! Don’t get me started on the thousands of pictures of family and friends that I have. I have lots of wall space, but since this is a rental home, I hesitate to put up shelves or hang frames. I had finally gotten two printer’s box shelves filled with a teeny glass menagerie but it was removed to make room for the tv.
Every day I watch the home makeover shows that tell me to display the things that I love. But where? How? I told Hub’s that I would like a curio cabinet for Christmas. I don’t know where it would fit, but I’d sure as hell try.
What do you do with gifts that you absolutely love? Is your home cluttered with things all over like a mishmash? Or are you artistic, clever, and have an eye for decor? I need help! I’m like a dancer with no rhythm. I have the tools, just no clue as to pull them together.
Jump On It
I really can’t seem to get motivated to write lately.
I had lost some stuff on a flash drive-and no, I didn’t have it saved anywhere else. This was a devastating loss. It was lots of notes, partial stories, and many other things. This led to me feeling…..like I didn’t want to be bothered.
Well I’ve decided to give up the funk and try to get on that horse again. And so it begins…here. Will this be a steady thing? I don’t know. I may just be posting anything and everything in an effort to get myself writing every day again. Will you stay with me? Will you encourage me to continue? Or will you become exasperated with my ramblings and abandon me?
Only time will tell.
Please, don’t leave me.
My Opinion on Spending
Does anyone remember the news reports a few years ago about how the government spends its money? You know, $450 for a $45 hammer? $75 for a single nail? Has anything been done about that?
With all the talk about balancing the budget and making cuts, I began to think. Just like my doctor gave me little baby steps to lose weight in a manner that wouldn’t hurt, why can’t the government do the same? I mean, I know that when you are talking about the word ‘trillions’ or even ‘billions’ , the cost of a hammer or nail is a drop in the bucket. But let me put it like this:
A man works at Home Depot (or Lowes or Ace Hardware). Business is down, and in order to save their business they let the man go. Now there is no income for the man to feed his four kids. Now they are forced onto welfare and of course the government is cutting all kinds of programs so he still can’t make ends meet. His kids get ill from poor nutrition, they lose their home, and the downward spiral doesn’t end.
Now, if the government would pay $45 for that hammer -say at a Home Depot – that frees up $405. More money spent in Home Depot, man keeps his job, pays for his insurance to take care of the kid, keeps his house, etc.
I’m sure there are flaws in my logic. I am not an accountant or financial adviser. But I am a housewife. When the bills get too high, I make changes. I shop for the best prices. If I can get that hammer somewhere else, I damn well won’t spend $450 for it! If I need to meet someone for lunch to talk business, I will go to say, Applebee’s , rather than a four star restaurant…because I don’t have the money for it!
This is just a little step. But if every sector of government did little things, took baby steps, in the end it would add up. I am not talking about program cuts, I am talking about the wasteful spending. Little steps among every congressman and representative could add up to millions if not billions. If they started there, I think that the American public would feel alot differently about the goings-on in Washington. Maybe if we all demanded an itemized spending list from each of our officials and said NO to what we feel is unexcusable, then maybe, just maybe, things could work out.
That’s just my opinion.
Who’s To Say?
I am not writing this to say that Casey Anthony is guilty or not guilty. I believe that has been decided in a Florida courtroom. I am, however, writing this about the outcome and the resulting outrage.
It is MY opinion that Nancy Grace whipped the public into a frenzy in the many months that this was in the news. It is MY opinion that she helped fan every rumor into what many perceived as “facts”. Did she kill her daughter? We will never know. Did she lie? Definitely.
WE are not the jury. WE may have sat in front of our televisions for the past weeks hanging on every word. But did we listen with unbiased ears? If we took the word “CHILD” or “MOTHER” out of the equation, would there still be the outrage? The thought of a mother killing her child cuts to the very heart of every other mother. No one can imagine doing that to their OWN child. But that is beside the point. The jury followed the law. Circumstantial evidence is not enough to convict someone. No one witnessed Caylee’s death. Even the coroner could not say exactly how Caylee died.
And so, if a few of my friends on Facebook are to be believed, at 9pm, we should be lighting our front lights for Caylee. Why? It won’t change the verdict. It won’t bring the little girl back.
If – God forbid – someone I know or love ever needs a jury trial, I am terrified of who would be chosen as a jury. Do I want someone who will ‘assume’ guilt the way that many on television or Twitter have? Do I want someone who gets all their news from Joy Behar, Nancy Grace, Anderson Cooper or the myriad other talking heads? Hell no!
I want someone who will look at the facts. I want someone who will follow the letter of the law. I want someone who will take an oath to uphold justice.
I want someone willing to make the hard choices. I don’t envy those jurists for one minute. They will be despised by millions for doing their duty as Americans.
I want to say a few things so here we go with a new vintage of whine…
The charger to my laptop has given up the ghost. I am hoping that the cost to replace it is covered under my insurance with Best Buy. Now I know that more than a few of my friends have issues with them, but I have always gotten good results-once I get past the long wait in line or the time it takes to get my stuff back. Lucky for me, the charger that Babygirl uses also works on my laptop, so I will use that, for now, but will also cut back on my use. What will I do with myself?
The weather has been great and I really want to take down my curtains and wash them or sort through boxes in the basement. I wanted to wait until Babygirl was home from college to help me but to tell you the truth part of me wants to see her relax or earn money for school. Part of me is afraid of hurting my back and the biggest part of me is lazy.
I’m going to the shore with Hubs this weekend. His high school is having a gathering near where we vacation and so we will drop in there. We have taken overnight trips here or there. Most are only that-overnight-but a few have been two. This one is Friday to Monday. FOUR DAYS! I am so excited to be away from our computers, cell phones and cable tv. I used to worry about my kids when I went away, but now I worry that the dogs won’t poop for them. (Bandit avoids it) Now I’ll worry that Mordecai will eat all of Bandit’s food when he’s not looking. Damn ‘kids’……
Started shopping for my future grandSON. He already has some Philadelphia Union gear.(YAY) I am also looking at shower gifts. When did kid stuff get to be so fucking expensive? It’s a racket. The gear for humans that will barely have time to wear/use/fit in is atrociously costly. $500 and up for a crib? $300+ for a car seat that they will use for little more than a year? Holy shit!
And so, that is my wildly exciting life. What have you been up to?
I smell them….On your clothes, on your hair, in your office. It follows you. It is part of the smell that is ‘you’. Even after your shower, I smell it from your pores.
I taste them….As you kiss me, I taste them. Even after the mouthwash, it comes from your lungs. Your kisses have always tasted this way. I wonder if I would miss it if you quit.
I will admit, that even after considering myself ‘quit’, I have smoked….when drinking. Not with family…not that. But with friends. And I will return home and not want one. Not a single one. No matter what I am doing or not doing, I have no desire…..
I see your pack lying on your desk….open. You smoke so much and I wonder if you would miss one, or two, or four, if I took them to smoke at my leisure. I can see myself sneaking one when I go downstairs to do laundry. The basement is primarily my domain. Would you know? Would you taste them on my kisses? Would you smell it on my hair? My clothes?
I spend my days alone. Would you know if I walked to the store and bought an entire pack? Would you pop in suddenly while in the area and smell the lingering smoke I sneaked when I was in the bathroom? Would you notice more butts in your ashtray? The ones I smoked while I had my morning coffee?
This hasn’t happened.
It could. I know it could happen very easily. Is this how an alcoholic feels when they are ‘on the wagon’? Is this how every addict feels? Sometimes I want a cigarette so fucking bad. I want to feel that first fresh inhale. I want to feel that last drag burn my lip. I know I’ll hate the aftertaste. I’ll hate the smell. I’ll hate knowing that my shampoo isn’t what will make my hair fragrant.
But sometimes…..just sometimes…..I want it so bad…..
Hopes and Fears
One of the responsibilities of having our own business is dealing directly with our customers. Hubs does this daily when he discusses the work they want done, when he goes over blueprints, and when he does the actual work in their offices, stores, and most importantly, in their homes. There have been so very many times when we have helped build a store, wired in the offices and then helped the owners build and wire their own homes. Relationships are built and this leads to word-of-mouth advertising and reputation-building. These things are priceless.
I hope I can be professional enough……
I, on the other hand, have become the voice of our company. I am the first voice they hear when they contact us. They tell me what they want, when they need it and depend on me to get that information to Hubs. I deal with the secretaries and wives frequently over the years, but still….we aren’t friends and we don’t really know each other.
I hope I can remember to watch my language……
On Saturday night, we are going to a dinner party being held by a client to celebrate the completion of their new home. Everyone-from contractors, carpenters, plumbers, painters, etc- has been invited. Hubs knows these people., some of them for years. I know no one.
I hope I don’t embarrass Hubs….
I try to avoid these things as much as possible. For one thing, these people are all strangers to me. For another, many of them are soccer moms. My kids are all grown. They discuss day care, camps, dance class and tutors. They get their nails done and hair highlighted and go for massages. Me? I took off my “Union blue” nail polish this morning and now I am looking at blue cuticles that I hope will fade by the weekend. I have to go shopping for a pair of dress slacks (HATE THAT SHIT!!!) and pray that I find some!
I hope I don’t spill my food or drink on myself…….
I am not looking forward to this. It is only Wednesday and I am already feeling the fear. Of what? I’m not sure. Will I have something to contribute to the conversations? Will I have anything in common with these women? If this hostess does a seating chart (yes they do stuff like that) will I sit near enough to my husband? I don’t hover or stick like glue to him, but I like that I can casually touch his sleeve in passing to feel a little more grounded.
I hope my breath don’t stink……
I didn’t even feel this level of angst when I was meeting all of my blogger friends for the first time.
I hope I don’t accidently fart…….
You Didn’t Tell Me??!?
Last Monday, Hubs came home from work with a scrape on the bridge of his nose. This is a normal thing when he is using his CPAP machine when he goes to bed. However, he hasn’t been using it lately due to the head colds that are making the rounds of our family. Babygirl happened to notice it and she asked what happened. “I don’t know. I probably just scratched it wiping spider webs out of my way.” This is a normal thing too. (So no bells and whistles are going off although, hmmm….it’s odd for someone not to know how a scrape the size of a dime got on the middle of their face…..)
And so….end of conversation….
Flash forward to Sunday night. We did our usual get-ready-for-the-week planning. You know-what jobs need to be done, what bills to pay, what appointments are coming up, etc. He put some paperwork into his office and came back out. “Hey, if we get anything from “P” Hospital, let me know.”
We have no reason to go to “P” Hospital. It isn’t local. No one’s been sick or had an emergency. Maybe for a work contract?
“Remember the scrape I got last week? Well…..”
He proceded to tell me about looking at a job. He had pulled down a ladder to the attic area and a two-by-four had slid out, hitting him on the bridge of his nose. He fell backwards and through a sheet of drywall. According to him, he was looking up one minute and waking up to smelling salts the next! The home-owner insisted that he go to the hospital to be checked out. (He had a slight concussion) The homeowner also drove him home in his work truck and parked in our driveway. (I sortof remember seeing this, but just assumed that Hubs was talking to someone that he knew who pulled into the driveway to chat.)
“WHY THE FUCK DIDN’T YOU TELL ME???? YOU ASS!!! ”
He couldn’t understand why I was upset. I remembered how he didn’t want to go grocery shopping, how he stayed home on Tuesday, and how he gave Son1 a day of work. He was under doctor’s orders to take it easy for the next few days. His excuse was that he didn’t want to upset Babygirl when she asked him about the scrape. His excuse was that he didn’t want me to worry.
This is my biggest fear. More than spiders or fire, I fear that something will happen to him at work, rendering him incapacitated or God forbid-worse. Of course he didn’t want me to worry, but knowing what the problem was, I would have watched him carefully and gotten past it. Now, I find myself second-guessing the way I look at him.
How could I not see that he was keeping something from me? I kind of did, but like him, I didn’t want to push it in front of Babygirl. But why didn’t I ask him again later? When he stayed home from work, he claimed a sinus headache. Since I’ve been battling one for weeks, I accepted that. But why didn’t I say more when he wouldn’t take anything for it?
I stayed up the other night wondering if I have become complacent in our relationship. I always thought that I never take him for granted. Well, maybe I do. Maybe I just need to tweak my game. In the past few days, I look into his eyes more. I find myself listening ‘harder’ when he talks to me. When he sneaks up behind me to kiss my neck, I let it linger, even though I’m cooking or folding laundry.
I always considered the ‘little things’ to be important. Now I know that the ‘tiny things’ are important too.
One of Those Days
Did you ever have one of those days? You know, the kind where you wake up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed? The kind of day that is full of sunshine?
Did you ever have one of those days? The one where you step out of your bedroom and see that the house is still clean from the day before? Where the dishes are clean, the newspapers thrown out, and the laundry is all caught up?
Did you ever have one of those days that you shower, find something that you like (on the first try!) and find comfortable? The kind of day that you look into the mirror and decide that for a change, you don’t need makeup?
Did you ever have one of those days where you call the cable company to replace your remote control and they answer your call right away and they call you back when the call suddenly drops?
Did you ever have one of those days where your husband comes home from work and tells you that you’re wearing sexy clothes, when you are wearing stretch pants and a man-tailored white shirt? The kind of day that you make meatloaf for dinner and both the husband and the 24 year act like you have just served their favorite meal in the world?
I had one today.
I wish they came around more frequently. I wish I could bottle them up and pass them out to my friends.