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Wednesday, April 2

Bury the hatchet.

Running here and there on this staycation we have been keeping busy and having a lot of fun. The weather has been cooperating for the most part, the kids were able to get their bikes out into the cul-de-sac for the first time. Par for the course looks like my daughter is one of those clowns on a miniature bike and will necessitate a new one probably from the Easter Bunny. I am also toying with the idea of getting my son a phone for when he is across the street at the neighbors since we now live in a world where homes don’t always have a goddamned landline to call and check on your kids. I can’t believe I am actually thinking about a phone for my child. Who is this mom???

But the winds of change are blowing. Our family is changing. So much is on the horizon that it’s almost blinding and a small part of me has that ingrained fear that you can’t run uphill forever before you have to come back down.

TWO huge ass Disney Vacations planned for the next year and a half, one by land, one by sea. By biggest anxiety isn’t the expense or the planning, it’s what size I can get down to. What I’ll look like in the pictures.

Joining my boy in a travelling soccer club that will run year round. This is REAL soccer now and basically you have to sign your name in blood to them. It’s a very strategic move and we are super excited about it but also hoping and praying it all plays out right in the end and becomes a good investment. All the time and money we put in now  **should** mean a full-ride scholarship in ten years to play soccer for a college. It **should** all come full circle. Key word: **should**.

Piano Princess’ lessons. She has almost passed me up completely as I can only boom-chick the chords these days. She looks at the damn notes and keeps her hands in position and actually PLAYS with feeling and rhythm like it’s just her body doing what it was born to do and not her mind trying desperately to make music. Like it was for me. I could never separate my mind with my body and just PLAY.

And then there’s my husband. So calm and collected. Works hard and plays hard and keeps the ship steady both at home and in the office. Get’s to travel and take classes and exams. Business dinners. Always someone to hang out at a bar with or meet for lunch. Still makes time to help with soccer, plan family outings downtown, help the kids with homework and adventure, take care of ME physically and emotionally.

Me. Every day I go through the motions like a chess piece. Work, clean, diet, exercise, drink coffee. Drive kids here, drive kids there. Make sure everyone has matching outfits. Make sure everything looks perfect like a picture in Good Housekeeping. Stand in front of the mirror and scrutinize. Fall asleep waiting for what tomorrow will bring. Wonder why if everything is in place why I have a nervous stomach? (My mother’s term) Ha!!

I’m not saying all this for compliments or reassurance. I’m just doing what I was born to do which is speak and write. To share. To talk myself through the 2 pounds I gain drinking daiquiris and convince myself beyond the shadow of a doubt that NO the dimensions of my body are NOT DIFFERENT because of those 2 pounds. Although, shhh…maybe you can’t see it but I can see I’m fatter in the mirror. My brain has been awesome in my lifetime but my mind fucking sucks. Working on that.

And I’m home on my break, three meals will be coffee today to dissolve the liquor weight I gained on my date last night, watching TV and the subject is Mental Illness. Ha!! No, I was NEVER suicidal (let's keep that clear and documented) But I did want to kill and bury the old me that was 100 lbs. overweight. And I did kill her and bury her but I am still traumatized, and frightened from the experience. Worried she'll come back from the dead. Then I take too big of a bite of a ten calorie shrimp and get stuck and throw it back up and instead of being sick and grossed out while I’m on my knees I am thankful to God for the reminder that I am in control. That fucking bitch that ruined my life for almost ten years is STILL buried and I will continue to kick her while she’s down. Every hour of every day I am worried to see that person again. While my family thrives I am thinking of that buried person.

That shit’s warped, trust me I know. But it’s me. Today. Sorry to be so macabre, my cycle is all jacked because of the weight loss (yet ANTOHER side effect) and my hot messness is magnified today. And I happen to have a couple extra hours to blog with. And 2 pounds to burn off.


And I am running at the speed of light now, keeping up with all those around me. Flying almost. And I can't stop.

4 comments:

  1. This post is rad! What a great way to look at it.

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  2. And I've thanked God before while I was hugging the toilet.

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  3. You're life is cray, cray....but I get it. It's the definition of wife and mom. And it inspires me - if you find the time to work out - why can't I? UGH.

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  4. I love your posts. Your honesty is refreshing!

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