It isn't that things aren't happening. And it isn't that I all of a sudden don't need to process them. Its just that the drive to write about it has gotten vaguer.
I'll get an idea about something to write about and file it away for when I have time, and then I get busy or I'm exhausted and can't put two words together.
To recap: I can't, but here's some things that have happened of late.
Its been two months since Jason broke up with me and it stings more now than it did then. I don't know if that's because I was in shock or denial or what. I loved him, still love him in a way. I wouldn't take him back, I know he'd hurt me. I still think he's a good person and I miss having him in my life.
I've been thinking a lot about relationships and why I don't have many and they don't work out. Its me that is the problem. On the one hand I am very independent. For example, a couple of weeks ago I went on a shopping trip with my cousins. My younger cousin is 21 and a college student. She went through a very rough time in high school with repeated running aways, staying with older men and taking drugs and trading sex for drugs and money. But now she's pretty much back on a normal track.
My point is that the girl has used up a lot of good will in the people who care about her. We were talking about checking accounts because her older sister, who is a year older than I am (31!) was complaining that her bank was charging her for stupid things like seeing printouts of account activity to the tune of $5 a page.
My bank gives online access with real time activity shown and pays me interest on any balance under ten grand. The younger cousin's contribution was that she likes a different bank because it's easy to set up the account and besides, with her account at the same bank as her parents, its very easy to transfer money from theirs to hers when she needs it.
That detail shouldn't bother me, but it does. It was unnecessary to include at all and its an asinine reason to pick a bank anyway. But then I got to thinking. I don't have parents that can give me money when I need it. I never have had that. As a result, I am very responsible with my money and I take pride in being able to pay all my bills or finding a way to make things work if I can't. I also wouldn't take money from my dad or my aunt if they offered.
Back to relationships, to be in a relationship, you have to be willing to take from someone something you need. Emotion, support, sex, money, help. Something. I enjoy many parts of being in a relationship, but I hate needing it. I don't let myself need another person in that way.
That's very safe. It protects me and keeps me strong, but I think it also pushes others away.
The other reason I am no good at relationships is that I've never seen or been in a "good" one. I've seen them shown on TV or read about idealized versions in books or either the self help or romance variety, but in person, not really.
I think a behavior that complex, with give and take, compromise and boundary, all that, it has to be learned. I saw and still see situations that I don't want any part of. My parents were alcoholic, mentally ill, dysfunctional messes. My granparents hated each other and were only together because it was proper. My aunt, the one who gives money to her daughter, is married to a man who I know has personality issues.
Drugs, abuse, mental instability, selfishness; these are the things I see people I love stuggling with in their spouses and partners. I don't want that. I realize that loving someone makes those problems disappear.
Maybe I'm too independent. Maybe I am too picky about the qualities I want in a partner. I do know that I want mental health, sanity, physical health and attractiveness. I want humor and honor and honesty and work ethic.
Those things are hard to find on their own. All together, probably impossible. And then the person who has all those would have to be willing to put up with and even care for me.
Sunday, March 4, 2012
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Interrupted
I've tried very hard to spare my sons some of the things that were the most hurtful in my childhood. In many ways I've been successful at that.
I grew up afraid of the adults. I was afraid to talk back, afraid to ask, afraid to question. Going into the parents' bedroom or personal areas was like daring a dragon's lair; not something one did unless one had to. To wake the mom from a nap or early on a weekend (and later, when she no longer worked, any day) was suicide. And then there were the times that she was dangerous no matter what you did. If you didn't say enough or said too much or stayed close or went for a walk. There was nothing you could do to avoid it. Even going to bed was no guarentee of safety. She was not above yanking you out of bed to let you know she was unhappy with something you'd done.
My sons are not afraid of me. They are a bit too comfortable with my personal space. I can't get the little dudes to sleep in their own beds and they all seem to think my bedroom is the one to hang out in. We're working on it, but I am such a sound sleeper that they tend to sneak into my room and not ever wake me up.
The morning is a whole other thing. The crack of dawn wakes them, they wake me. I try to let Isaiah sleep in.
But there are also things I wanted to spare my kids, but haven't. I never wanted to raise them without a real dad. But I picked my men so poorly. Gideon's biological father wants nothing to do with him. The man pays child support ordered by the court. That's it. The ASS Hat is a chronic liar, blow hard and ass hole. He has worlds of potential that he's squandered in attempting to pull scams to get by. Why buy gas when you can steal is? That only works until everyone in town knows its your car with stolen tags. Why get educated when you are good enough with fonts to fake credentials? They actually do check that sort of thing.
Habits like that have ruined his reputation to the point that its not him being paranoid, no one wants to hire him because no one knows whats true and what isn't and they don't want to take the risk. He worked as a grill cook at sonic when we met in high school and that's where he works now. He sees his sons, but not as often as he could and the time they are at his house, he's not really paying much attention to them. So I failed, they have absent fathers. I'm so bad at picking men that I've practically given up, so I doubt that a surrogate dad will be in the picture anytime.
I also wanted to spare them the sensation that people are temporary. In my childhood people came and went. I had a dad and then he was gone and I didn't see or hear from him for years. I had a step parent who was a monster, but he had kids and for a while I had a sister. I loved having a sister. We talked and shared things and it was wonderful. Then my mom left her dad and she was gone from my life. I've looked for her, but haven't found any traces that might be her. IT was the same with friends, but that was because of how unstable mom got to be, their parents didn't want them around her, so they couldn't be around me.
When I was very little, and my parents were still big into drugs, there were people around who were friends of theirs, but to me they were aunts, uncles, and "cousins", I remember the house being full of people. They were mostly into pot so it wasn't scary or weird, just conversation and cards and music and the kids playing in the back room. But that ended too. I ran into some of those kids later in high school, but by then our parents' habit was a secret. We didn't socialize much.
My children have been sheltered from drug use, I've never used and rarely drink. But I let people into their lives, thinking it was a good thing. My brothers both spent time living with us, but the guys are just so unstable and messed up, I finally have had to just cut ties. What good is having a male relative around if the male relative steals, uses drugs and alcohol and flies into rages when he doesn't get his way? Even worse, I allowed a man friend of mine into their lives. Jason used to be over here twice a month with his son. The boys would all play and it was like a slumber party and Jason would hang out and do things with Isaiah that only guys would do. It was so nice. But now he's gone from our lives and my little boys keep asking when Nevik will come over again and I have to tell them that his dad doesn't want to be my friend anymore.
I caused that loss to come into their lives. It was my carelessness that allowed the situation to develop.
When I was younger and mom was sick, I hated it. I hated that she slept all the time and we had to be careful not to wake her up or bother her. I missed out on things I wanted to do because I was afraid to ask her. I remember walking home from the bus stop and being afraid she'd be dead, or vanished. I hated having to take care of her, everything from cooking and cleaning for her to making sure she was taking her meds to checking her into the hospital or calling 911 and explaining her medical history and medications to the EMTs.
A child should not have to do that.
Today I had a migraine so bad I couldn't talk. Isaiah had to watch his brothers and keep them out of my room so I could rest. It was triggered by a sinus heachache, my dad called it a sinus attack. All I know is that a nap and benedryl cured it enough that I could get up and function. But I hate that it happened.
I wish I was a better mom and had given more thought to the men I had babies with. I love my sons and would do anything for them, they should have a real family.
I wish I had given it to them. I do my best and I think they are happy and secure for the most part. But I wish I did better.
I grew up afraid of the adults. I was afraid to talk back, afraid to ask, afraid to question. Going into the parents' bedroom or personal areas was like daring a dragon's lair; not something one did unless one had to. To wake the mom from a nap or early on a weekend (and later, when she no longer worked, any day) was suicide. And then there were the times that she was dangerous no matter what you did. If you didn't say enough or said too much or stayed close or went for a walk. There was nothing you could do to avoid it. Even going to bed was no guarentee of safety. She was not above yanking you out of bed to let you know she was unhappy with something you'd done.
My sons are not afraid of me. They are a bit too comfortable with my personal space. I can't get the little dudes to sleep in their own beds and they all seem to think my bedroom is the one to hang out in. We're working on it, but I am such a sound sleeper that they tend to sneak into my room and not ever wake me up.
The morning is a whole other thing. The crack of dawn wakes them, they wake me. I try to let Isaiah sleep in.
But there are also things I wanted to spare my kids, but haven't. I never wanted to raise them without a real dad. But I picked my men so poorly. Gideon's biological father wants nothing to do with him. The man pays child support ordered by the court. That's it. The ASS Hat is a chronic liar, blow hard and ass hole. He has worlds of potential that he's squandered in attempting to pull scams to get by. Why buy gas when you can steal is? That only works until everyone in town knows its your car with stolen tags. Why get educated when you are good enough with fonts to fake credentials? They actually do check that sort of thing.
Habits like that have ruined his reputation to the point that its not him being paranoid, no one wants to hire him because no one knows whats true and what isn't and they don't want to take the risk. He worked as a grill cook at sonic when we met in high school and that's where he works now. He sees his sons, but not as often as he could and the time they are at his house, he's not really paying much attention to them. So I failed, they have absent fathers. I'm so bad at picking men that I've practically given up, so I doubt that a surrogate dad will be in the picture anytime.
I also wanted to spare them the sensation that people are temporary. In my childhood people came and went. I had a dad and then he was gone and I didn't see or hear from him for years. I had a step parent who was a monster, but he had kids and for a while I had a sister. I loved having a sister. We talked and shared things and it was wonderful. Then my mom left her dad and she was gone from my life. I've looked for her, but haven't found any traces that might be her. IT was the same with friends, but that was because of how unstable mom got to be, their parents didn't want them around her, so they couldn't be around me.
When I was very little, and my parents were still big into drugs, there were people around who were friends of theirs, but to me they were aunts, uncles, and "cousins", I remember the house being full of people. They were mostly into pot so it wasn't scary or weird, just conversation and cards and music and the kids playing in the back room. But that ended too. I ran into some of those kids later in high school, but by then our parents' habit was a secret. We didn't socialize much.
My children have been sheltered from drug use, I've never used and rarely drink. But I let people into their lives, thinking it was a good thing. My brothers both spent time living with us, but the guys are just so unstable and messed up, I finally have had to just cut ties. What good is having a male relative around if the male relative steals, uses drugs and alcohol and flies into rages when he doesn't get his way? Even worse, I allowed a man friend of mine into their lives. Jason used to be over here twice a month with his son. The boys would all play and it was like a slumber party and Jason would hang out and do things with Isaiah that only guys would do. It was so nice. But now he's gone from our lives and my little boys keep asking when Nevik will come over again and I have to tell them that his dad doesn't want to be my friend anymore.
I caused that loss to come into their lives. It was my carelessness that allowed the situation to develop.
When I was younger and mom was sick, I hated it. I hated that she slept all the time and we had to be careful not to wake her up or bother her. I missed out on things I wanted to do because I was afraid to ask her. I remember walking home from the bus stop and being afraid she'd be dead, or vanished. I hated having to take care of her, everything from cooking and cleaning for her to making sure she was taking her meds to checking her into the hospital or calling 911 and explaining her medical history and medications to the EMTs.
A child should not have to do that.
Today I had a migraine so bad I couldn't talk. Isaiah had to watch his brothers and keep them out of my room so I could rest. It was triggered by a sinus heachache, my dad called it a sinus attack. All I know is that a nap and benedryl cured it enough that I could get up and function. But I hate that it happened.
I wish I was a better mom and had given more thought to the men I had babies with. I love my sons and would do anything for them, they should have a real family.
I wish I had given it to them. I do my best and I think they are happy and secure for the most part. But I wish I did better.
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Air head is too kind
I honestly think I have mental problems.
Today started out odd, good, but odd. We had some storms move through last night and they came with some stiff straight line winds. When we went to put the dog in his pen on our way out the door, we realized that the winds had blown said pen over onto its side. Isaiah and I managed to set it back up and get the door back on the hinge, but what had started as an out the door early morning turned into a run now or be forever late morning.
Got the kids dropped off and to work and had a really decent day. Didn't get a whole lot of lip from anyone. The kid who cussed me up one side and down the other last week was blessedly hard working today, kid who said she's come get extra help did it. All around good day.
Check my email before a leave the building and there it is. Email 1, sub reminders for the various IEP meetings of the day. Email 2, the automated reminder about my noon meeting. Email 3, the special services coordinator letting me know I would have to reschedule the meeting I didn't go to. Email 4, the teacher who skipped her lunch trying to attend the meeting I forgot to go run.
I am mortified. I rescheduled with the parent. Emailed apologies to all the player invovled and ate a lot of electronic crow. I've spent all evening trying to figure out how I let this happen. I put all my meetings into google calender and my phone.
But the calender didn't send the reminder while I was anywhere near my desk to see it. The meeting was at an odd time too, which didn't help. And we've had issues with students and even paras having their phones on them and out so I stopped carrying mine. I know that I used it to look up stuff related to what we are working on in class, answer work emails, and as a calculator, but it looks like I'm playing on my phone. If I want others to leave their phones away, I need to be willing to do the same. So my phone sent an alert, but it wasn't in my pocket to remind me.
I think it'll be ok. They aren't going to fire me over this. But it makes me and my department look bad. I had a tingle that there was something I needed to do today, but then I got busy, focused on other things, and let it go.
On other areas things are ok. Beast came home from the vet. I can tell he's sore because he wont settle anywhere. He wants out but I want him in for a few days so he's being very vocal about that. HE goes back in a month for a booster shot.
Made nice dinner for the kids while Isaiah emptied the pantry for me. Its not a closet and not a room, but I have some portable shelves set up in there and we use it as food/pet food/ kitchen gadget over flow. Bravery, weather because she was so sick or because she was so rotten, was pooping way back in a corner. I followed my nose to a smell and found a poo pile that was disgusting. The plan was to empty the room, sweep, vacuum, and shampoo. Then put everything away tomorrow.
Unfortunately, my brand new, used once, carpet shampoooer, is broken. No outward sign of trauma, just no brush spin or suction and lots of heat build up in the motor housing. Going to try to exchange it tomorrow. We settled for spot scrubbing that carpet and I'll vacuum is again tomorrow morning. I also plan to rearrange my storage so less food ends up back there. For now its all piled on the table and in the laundry room.
I've noticed that when I get stressed, I have a low tolerance for small noises. The sound of my dog licking his chops, my kids' voices, the clicking of toys all drive me nuts and make me feel like I am in an echo chamber. But it isn't all that loud. Something about my brain just amplifies it all. I sound crazy.
Here's to hoping that I do better tomorrow. That instead of just thinking I had a good day, I actually have a good day.
Today started out odd, good, but odd. We had some storms move through last night and they came with some stiff straight line winds. When we went to put the dog in his pen on our way out the door, we realized that the winds had blown said pen over onto its side. Isaiah and I managed to set it back up and get the door back on the hinge, but what had started as an out the door early morning turned into a run now or be forever late morning.
Got the kids dropped off and to work and had a really decent day. Didn't get a whole lot of lip from anyone. The kid who cussed me up one side and down the other last week was blessedly hard working today, kid who said she's come get extra help did it. All around good day.
Check my email before a leave the building and there it is. Email 1, sub reminders for the various IEP meetings of the day. Email 2, the automated reminder about my noon meeting. Email 3, the special services coordinator letting me know I would have to reschedule the meeting I didn't go to. Email 4, the teacher who skipped her lunch trying to attend the meeting I forgot to go run.
I am mortified. I rescheduled with the parent. Emailed apologies to all the player invovled and ate a lot of electronic crow. I've spent all evening trying to figure out how I let this happen. I put all my meetings into google calender and my phone.
But the calender didn't send the reminder while I was anywhere near my desk to see it. The meeting was at an odd time too, which didn't help. And we've had issues with students and even paras having their phones on them and out so I stopped carrying mine. I know that I used it to look up stuff related to what we are working on in class, answer work emails, and as a calculator, but it looks like I'm playing on my phone. If I want others to leave their phones away, I need to be willing to do the same. So my phone sent an alert, but it wasn't in my pocket to remind me.
I think it'll be ok. They aren't going to fire me over this. But it makes me and my department look bad. I had a tingle that there was something I needed to do today, but then I got busy, focused on other things, and let it go.
On other areas things are ok. Beast came home from the vet. I can tell he's sore because he wont settle anywhere. He wants out but I want him in for a few days so he's being very vocal about that. HE goes back in a month for a booster shot.
Made nice dinner for the kids while Isaiah emptied the pantry for me. Its not a closet and not a room, but I have some portable shelves set up in there and we use it as food/pet food/ kitchen gadget over flow. Bravery, weather because she was so sick or because she was so rotten, was pooping way back in a corner. I followed my nose to a smell and found a poo pile that was disgusting. The plan was to empty the room, sweep, vacuum, and shampoo. Then put everything away tomorrow.
Unfortunately, my brand new, used once, carpet shampoooer, is broken. No outward sign of trauma, just no brush spin or suction and lots of heat build up in the motor housing. Going to try to exchange it tomorrow. We settled for spot scrubbing that carpet and I'll vacuum is again tomorrow morning. I also plan to rearrange my storage so less food ends up back there. For now its all piled on the table and in the laundry room.
I've noticed that when I get stressed, I have a low tolerance for small noises. The sound of my dog licking his chops, my kids' voices, the clicking of toys all drive me nuts and make me feel like I am in an echo chamber. But it isn't all that loud. Something about my brain just amplifies it all. I sound crazy.
Here's to hoping that I do better tomorrow. That instead of just thinking I had a good day, I actually have a good day.
Monday, February 20, 2012
Bitch is Back
The worst part about my Monday is not having to get up early. It isn't the fact that I only ever get through half or less of my to do list for the weekend or that I sqaundered pretty weather or that I didn't do enough super special fun things with my kids.
The worst part about Mondays for me is always the fact that I have to become a fun sucker. I'm a teacher. Its my job to ride your ass about homework you don't have done or classes you are failing or volunteering in order to earn vocational credits. Its my job to tell you that texting in school, even with your mom, isn't ok. That streaming funny videos online is not the best use of the two computers in my classroom and that announcing you wont be in school for the next test wont get you out of taking it.
I am not a hard ass by nature. I like a funny video as much as the next person and I have my phone surgically implanted to my hand. But I leave them alone during school hours so that I can focus all of my attention on teaching.
Its kind of a bummy week anyway. Last Thursday my cat, Bravery, had to be put down. She had feline leukemia with caused tumors to grow through out her body. Today our other cat, Beast, goes in to be neutered and to be tested for the virus. I'm betting he has it. He's young and healthy for now, but its going to shorten his life and cause his death to be painful. The kids are sad, but plotting a puppy. I'm not bringing another cat into the house for a while. If beast is positive and lives, then not until he's gone and if he's negative, I don't want to risk exposing him.
Working out after school is still painful, but not vomit inducing anymore. I can also do crunches and sit ups that were impossible. Some things are getting easier, others seem hard still. Its almost like I have to scrape by with the wrong muscle groups because the correct ones are so weak, and then I get a little more tone and all of a sudden its hard because I'm actually engaging the right muscles.
I know its good for me. And I know now that I don't have the internal discipline to make myself work that hard on my own. Too bad the instructor took a job in western kansas and is moving this summer.
For the most part all is well. Kids are good but rotten. I wish I knew how to have fewer evenings where they fight, argue, yell, get into, tell me no and then get sent to bed a half hour early because I can't stand dealing with it anymore. But in between all that, happy family.
The worst part about Mondays for me is always the fact that I have to become a fun sucker. I'm a teacher. Its my job to ride your ass about homework you don't have done or classes you are failing or volunteering in order to earn vocational credits. Its my job to tell you that texting in school, even with your mom, isn't ok. That streaming funny videos online is not the best use of the two computers in my classroom and that announcing you wont be in school for the next test wont get you out of taking it.
I am not a hard ass by nature. I like a funny video as much as the next person and I have my phone surgically implanted to my hand. But I leave them alone during school hours so that I can focus all of my attention on teaching.
Its kind of a bummy week anyway. Last Thursday my cat, Bravery, had to be put down. She had feline leukemia with caused tumors to grow through out her body. Today our other cat, Beast, goes in to be neutered and to be tested for the virus. I'm betting he has it. He's young and healthy for now, but its going to shorten his life and cause his death to be painful. The kids are sad, but plotting a puppy. I'm not bringing another cat into the house for a while. If beast is positive and lives, then not until he's gone and if he's negative, I don't want to risk exposing him.
Working out after school is still painful, but not vomit inducing anymore. I can also do crunches and sit ups that were impossible. Some things are getting easier, others seem hard still. Its almost like I have to scrape by with the wrong muscle groups because the correct ones are so weak, and then I get a little more tone and all of a sudden its hard because I'm actually engaging the right muscles.
I know its good for me. And I know now that I don't have the internal discipline to make myself work that hard on my own. Too bad the instructor took a job in western kansas and is moving this summer.
For the most part all is well. Kids are good but rotten. I wish I knew how to have fewer evenings where they fight, argue, yell, get into, tell me no and then get sent to bed a half hour early because I can't stand dealing with it anymore. But in between all that, happy family.
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Real Quick
It seems like I get to the end of my energy with things left undone more often than not. I can't seem to gather my thoughts for a cohesive post anymore. I'm kinda all over the place and vague.
I blame work. There's too much to do, too much to try to keep track of, too many people to answer to. And yet, I claim to love my job. I do love my job - working with kids. I dislike the bureaucracy that goes along with it.
Aside from IEP forms, which run on average 25 pages and I have to write up 20 a school year, and periodic progress reports, I have to design and present training to paras - some of whom have been paras for longer than I've been alive. Then there's the fact that I have to magically be able to keep track of student assignments, even for classes I do not coteach and kids I don't see unless I hunt them down. Oh, and the job embedded training I'm supposed to have done for staff development, yeah, I'm totally faking it, using a project from grad school that is super imposed on our situation. As some point I have to make a presentation.
Parent teacher conferences and enrollment are this week. Monday I worked until 8:00, and tomorrow the kids don't have school but I'll be there from 8 am to 8 pm. I plan on checking on the boys at home several times, but still, its a long, stressful day. Made all the worse by the fact that Isaiah's phone seems to be broken.
Its a touch screen with a slide out key board. Well, the screen wont work. Without it you cannot select aps, read text messages or do really anything. It rings when you call into it. I told Isaiah to keep it close and be prepared for me to arrive unhappy if he doesn't answer. I got the insurance on it, so it can be replaced for a minor co-pay. Its just gonna be a hassle, and I hate hassle.
I went a little crazy and decided to get a puppy. I know it isn't politically correct, but I'm buying a puppy from a breeder. She was born on January 27, so she isn't old enough yet. Basset hound. I love hounds and I figure Gizmo needs a buddy. Dad's already tried to talk me out of it, you're welcome to join him in the attempt.
Been walking Gizmo every evening to try to get him some exercise. He is not great on a leash, but I'm getting him to the point that he will jog with me. He'll be doing really well, and then he'll smell a bunny and off he goes and my rhythm is lost and we're walking again. Also doing lunges and crunches at home.
I guess that's all I have in me at the moment. It seems kinda superficial. Maybe the long weekend will give me a chance to percolate something meatier.
I blame work. There's too much to do, too much to try to keep track of, too many people to answer to. And yet, I claim to love my job. I do love my job - working with kids. I dislike the bureaucracy that goes along with it.
Aside from IEP forms, which run on average 25 pages and I have to write up 20 a school year, and periodic progress reports, I have to design and present training to paras - some of whom have been paras for longer than I've been alive. Then there's the fact that I have to magically be able to keep track of student assignments, even for classes I do not coteach and kids I don't see unless I hunt them down. Oh, and the job embedded training I'm supposed to have done for staff development, yeah, I'm totally faking it, using a project from grad school that is super imposed on our situation. As some point I have to make a presentation.
Parent teacher conferences and enrollment are this week. Monday I worked until 8:00, and tomorrow the kids don't have school but I'll be there from 8 am to 8 pm. I plan on checking on the boys at home several times, but still, its a long, stressful day. Made all the worse by the fact that Isaiah's phone seems to be broken.
Its a touch screen with a slide out key board. Well, the screen wont work. Without it you cannot select aps, read text messages or do really anything. It rings when you call into it. I told Isaiah to keep it close and be prepared for me to arrive unhappy if he doesn't answer. I got the insurance on it, so it can be replaced for a minor co-pay. Its just gonna be a hassle, and I hate hassle.
I went a little crazy and decided to get a puppy. I know it isn't politically correct, but I'm buying a puppy from a breeder. She was born on January 27, so she isn't old enough yet. Basset hound. I love hounds and I figure Gizmo needs a buddy. Dad's already tried to talk me out of it, you're welcome to join him in the attempt.
Been walking Gizmo every evening to try to get him some exercise. He is not great on a leash, but I'm getting him to the point that he will jog with me. He'll be doing really well, and then he'll smell a bunny and off he goes and my rhythm is lost and we're walking again. Also doing lunges and crunches at home.
I guess that's all I have in me at the moment. It seems kinda superficial. Maybe the long weekend will give me a chance to percolate something meatier.
Saturday, February 11, 2012
A serious case of the Blahs.
Either its because I stayed up too late last night, or because I'm anxious over work, or because these workouts aren't getting any less painful, or maybe an old fashioned virus. All I know is that today I am beyond tired.
I wanted to move the little boys' rooms, assemble a new dresser (now they share one and it just doesn't have enough room), do laundry, pick up and vacuum the house. Your basic weekend chore list.
Instead, I'm feeling yucky, tired, and my hands ache.
But I've been thinking lately.
On the internet this week there's this guy who shot up his daughter's computer. Apparently she posted something on facebook he felt wasn't appropriate.
So he filmed a response, including shooting the computer, and posted it on facebook and youtube. I don't get the logic, even after reading his response to the hoopla.
If the contents of her post were so bad, why repeat them, repost them, and insure a much wider viewing than just her friends list?
If he wants her to see the technology she enjoys as valuable, why treat it as disposable by destroying it in a fit of anger?
I'm sorry, destruction is destruction is destruction. The only thing this girl has learned is that her father will always up the anty and has no problem humiliating her. She may be grounded and may not have the computer anymore, but I'm willing to be she already has another facebook profile under an assumed name.
I wanted to move the little boys' rooms, assemble a new dresser (now they share one and it just doesn't have enough room), do laundry, pick up and vacuum the house. Your basic weekend chore list.
Instead, I'm feeling yucky, tired, and my hands ache.
But I've been thinking lately.
On the internet this week there's this guy who shot up his daughter's computer. Apparently she posted something on facebook he felt wasn't appropriate.
So he filmed a response, including shooting the computer, and posted it on facebook and youtube. I don't get the logic, even after reading his response to the hoopla.
If the contents of her post were so bad, why repeat them, repost them, and insure a much wider viewing than just her friends list?
If he wants her to see the technology she enjoys as valuable, why treat it as disposable by destroying it in a fit of anger?
I'm sorry, destruction is destruction is destruction. The only thing this girl has learned is that her father will always up the anty and has no problem humiliating her. She may be grounded and may not have the computer anymore, but I'm willing to be she already has another facebook profile under an assumed name.
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
I need balance
Pizza Hut gets way too much of my money. Seriously.
And for some reason the store here in town takes two hours to deliver. But doesn't say so when you place an internet order. For what I paid, and the wait, we could have run to the grocery store. I'm an idiot.
My boys' birthdays are done. That's why the pizza tonight. Cake and presents on the weekends. My babies. They are all kids now. No more babies. Although Noah would like to be one still.
Worked out with the girls from work. Small group now. I guess its normal for the group to shrink. The lady who leads used to be an professional instructor. Now she's a guidance counsilor. One the one hand, I know my abs are stronger now than when we started, just because I can do moves now that I couldn't before. But the pace of the workout makes me feel literally like I'm gonna throw up.
I don't know if its the rapid movements, kicks and turns and wathc your form and keep the abs tight and don't loose your balance. Or if its that my cardiovascular fitness is so terrible.
I'm not the fattest person who goes, but I think I'm the least coordinated. I'll keep trying, it feels good to start, then gets hot, sweaty, painful, then almost when I think I'm gonna die or have to quit, its over, an hour has passed and its time to put up our equipment.
The issue is that when I get home, I'm completely beat. Even making sure I snack a couple hours before so my blood sugar doesn't crash, making sure I drink enough water and eating a snack when I get home, I still feel completely physically useless.
Is that normal? How do people who work out regularly handle it?
Also, why am I, one of the least able to keep up, also the most flexible person who goes. The stretches I have absolutely no problem with. Its the aerobic moves. I can't keep up with the beat, get off track, can't remember the sequence of the steps and then by the time I get it, its on to the next move and a whole new sequence.
And for some reason the store here in town takes two hours to deliver. But doesn't say so when you place an internet order. For what I paid, and the wait, we could have run to the grocery store. I'm an idiot.
My boys' birthdays are done. That's why the pizza tonight. Cake and presents on the weekends. My babies. They are all kids now. No more babies. Although Noah would like to be one still.
Worked out with the girls from work. Small group now. I guess its normal for the group to shrink. The lady who leads used to be an professional instructor. Now she's a guidance counsilor. One the one hand, I know my abs are stronger now than when we started, just because I can do moves now that I couldn't before. But the pace of the workout makes me feel literally like I'm gonna throw up.
I don't know if its the rapid movements, kicks and turns and wathc your form and keep the abs tight and don't loose your balance. Or if its that my cardiovascular fitness is so terrible.
I'm not the fattest person who goes, but I think I'm the least coordinated. I'll keep trying, it feels good to start, then gets hot, sweaty, painful, then almost when I think I'm gonna die or have to quit, its over, an hour has passed and its time to put up our equipment.
The issue is that when I get home, I'm completely beat. Even making sure I snack a couple hours before so my blood sugar doesn't crash, making sure I drink enough water and eating a snack when I get home, I still feel completely physically useless.
Is that normal? How do people who work out regularly handle it?
Also, why am I, one of the least able to keep up, also the most flexible person who goes. The stretches I have absolutely no problem with. Its the aerobic moves. I can't keep up with the beat, get off track, can't remember the sequence of the steps and then by the time I get it, its on to the next move and a whole new sequence.
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