Unfriendly

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I am a bad friend. Social anxiety coupled with depression that makes it hard to leave the house makes it very difficult to be my friend. I will make plans and then break them, tell people that I will call and won’t. I don’t know what I did before texting, because I don’t like to talk on the phone either.

I feel bad about this, and about once a week make a resolution to myself that I will try harder. There are still a couple people hanging on the fringe, daring to invite me outside of my house. I tell myself that I will make an effort with them, that I will make plans and keep them, and then it always falls apart. I personally wouldn’t want to be friends with myself.

I was invited to a bonfire this weekend and have already caught myself trying to think of excuses why I cannot go. But I’ve cancelled on this friend a million times already, PROMISED her that I would make more of an effort, so I’m forcing myself to go. Maybe now that it has been written down I’ll HAVE to do it.

I really want to be a good friend, I want a friend that I can text all the time and she’ll know what I’m thinking/feeling without asking and will understand when I just want to stay in my pajamas all day and will sit with me and watch Netflix and eat junk food. But first I will have to make the effort myself and I am really going to try.

MIA

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Things have been difficult the last couple weeks, to say the least. As I had written before, Adam lost his job and we have just been struggling to keep our heads above water. Being broke sucks! I’m not sure if we’ve ever been this bad off before. So my brain was taken up with figuring out how to get gas in the tank to get to work, how to get food on the table for dinner, how to pay the rent. As is my MO, I mostly just wanted to get under the covers and sleep. You are not hungry when you’re sleeping, nor are you worrying about money. It is blissful to me, but not that effective of a coping mechanism if you want to get things done.

Adam and I always fight more when we don’t have any money. Call me old fashioned, but I look to him as the man of the family to try and figure stuff out, though after this period of time I am really trying harder to step up and be responsible, because sometimes he just drops the ball. Then I end up resenting him, end up yelling, which is also something I need to work on. I am a yeller. I am also obviously a huge work in progress!

Cole continues to be the light of my life and the reason I throw those covers back every morning. The other day I was putting laundry away in his room and dropped a shirt on the floor; when I came back up I happened to be eye to eye with the huge SHARPIE MARKER-ED NAME that he had chosen to write on his closet wall. Did you know that Sharpie doesn’t come off that easily, even with a Magic Eraser? It mostly just takes the paint off the wall, so now there is a big patch on his closet wall where I made him try and scrub it off. He didn’t even try and deny, because he had written his own name. Kids.

I would give anything to have a vacation. Why am I not one of those bloggers that get offered stuff??? I would totally write a nice review!

So that’s what’s been going on and why I haven’t been around as much. Please know that I am still keeping up with all of you and as always, the blogging community continues to give me strength and make me laugh when I need it the most.

Emerging

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Coming back into the light, squinting. A rough week, two weeks, forever. I have been a bad friend, mom, wife. But I’m still here. Still standing.

Nothing cures the blues like a dog curled up on your foot. Someone always loves you.

Questioning everything, hard decisions lined up as far as you can see. And in the middle of it all, a kindergarten graduation, an end of the year picnic, running the bean bag toss.

Life sneaks in through the cracks, sunlight reaching under the blankets and forcing me out of bed.

Secrets

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He shyly looked at me with those big brown eyes, grinned that gap tooth grin, and whispered, “Want me to tell you a secret?”
“Sure!”
He moved in closer, breath hot on my ear. “T (his best school friend) has a girlfriend.”
He sits back, gauging my reaction. I simply nod, a noncommittal “mmmhmm”. This isn’t it.
He leaned in again, and these words are said in a rush, one hurried stream.
“IhaveacrushonKaydence.”
“You do? You have a crush on Kaydence?” This is a name we’ve heard before, on the fringes of his constant chatter.
He nodded, not looking at me.
“Well that’s good, buddy. That happens to everyone. Just be nice to her and be friends.”
“Yeah,” he said, slipping under my arm, leaning into me. “Mom?”
“Yes?”
“Did YOU ever have a crush?”
“Of course. I had lots of crushes in school. And my last crush was Dad.”
“Really?”
“Yep.”
“Okay.” He is done now, secrets spilled. He is ready to move on. He skipped out of the room, and I called to him, ” Thanks for trusting me with your secret! I promise I won’t tell anyone.”
“I’m going to tell Dad,” he tossed over his shoulder, and went off to find him.
I hope he always trusts us with his secrets, though I know this is probably unrealistic. For now, I will be thankful that he does.

Broke, Broker, Brokest

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No one ever wants to talk about money, or lack thereof. However, it’s something that most of us think about, probably a lot. At least, I know I do. We are a family that lives paycheck to paycheck, and sometimes not even that. We don’t have credit cards, because that’s just a bad trap to fall into and we don’t really qualify for any that would help us out at all anyway. Both my husband and I work full time jobs and still come up short.

Broke is using the same damn picture frames for seven years because you just can’t justify buying new ones (I’m thinking of this because I hung some pictures yesterday, and then last night while we were watching TV the glass fell out of one of the frames and came down on our heads). Broke is driving around in a car with over 250,000 miles on it, a car that has sometimes questionable brakes. Broke is sometimes picking things up in the employee cafeteria at work, because you can put it on your employee badge and have it taken directly out of your paycheck. Broke is never having extra, struggling to pay for groceries and your basic utilities. Broke is not having a computer at home, so you have to risk getting in trouble and write your blog posts at work. I think our biggest “extra” is cable, and dude, if you can’t afford to do anything that requires leaving your house, you have to have SOMETHING!!

Summer isn’t so bad because you can go for a walk, you can go to the park, and going swimming isn’t terribly expensive. We try to get a festival or a fair in there every so often, too.

We are not DESTITUTE, we are SURVIVING, some days I would even say THRIVING, but it IS difficult to live paycheck to paycheck. I would love to have money for those little extras, or not have to worry about every single cent that leaves my pocket. I don’t want anyone thinking that we are just dying over here, because we’re not. I’m just saying what lots of people go through everyday, and it’s a struggle.

*Donations are accepted and appreciated.* <—— Sarcasm!!

Today

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He was so excited to wake me up this morning, and though my husband had the best intentions to try and let me sleep in, there was a not-so-subtle tapping at the bedroom door. He had made me two art projects at school, one of them a coupon book he was eager to use; I had a back rub and his bed was made before I had wiped the sleep from my eyes. He danced around the living room, so proud of himself.
We dug out one of his baby photo albums and he is fascinated with himself, cuddling up with me and turning each page, ever so carefully. You would never know that we were rookies, that most days it was all I could do to make it to bedtime. All he sees is a happy baby, a good childhood, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted for him.
He is the reason I celebrate today, because he made me a mother. And when I look at him and think how smart, kind, wonderful he is, and what a gift he is to everyone, I’ve done a damn good job.
Happy Mother’s Day, indeed.

Big Meeting

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I know that I’ve left everyone hanging…I make a big fuss about the Big Meeting with my mom and then I just go off the radar for a couple days… I’m sorry! The truth is, I was (am) still processing everything. I’m cautiously optimistic, I think.

So we decided to meet at a restaurant right by my house. I decided to go with casual clothes, no make-up. I walked into the restaurant with my heart in my throat… I didn’t know the first thing to say! I started with Hi, because my mom was already there and seated. She looks the same, maybe a little older in the face. She greeted me back and then we sat there.

“I don’t know where to start,” I admitted.

“Well, you’re kind of the one that initiated this meeting, so what did you want to talk about?”

“I just–I feel like it’s been too long and I want you and Cole to have a relationship. I needed a break from you and everyone in the family but now things are better and I feel that I’m in a better place and it’s just time.”

We decided that it wouldn’t be a good idea to rehash everything that went wrong, though of course we both caught ourselves doing just that throughout the conversation. There were tears, from both sides. After we had finished eating we decided to sit outside for a while because it was gorgeous out. We sat on the grass and both immediately started picking at it. I told her some things that had hurt me, she told me some things that had hurt her. We both apologized, both said that it was never our intention to go this long without speaking. She told me that I have burned a lot of bridges, meaning extended family, and when we were talking about my stepdad I broke down (again). But we were there, we were talking, and we have plans to take Cole to the playground next weekend.

So as I said, I am cautiously hopeful. By no means do I think that we will just go back to being BFF, that happy family that I miss. I know that time heals, and keeping the lines of communication open between Cole and his grandmother is what is most important to me right now. I hope that we are on the right track, but who knows. Like I said, I’m still digesting things, still thinking of things that were said and processing information. But I’m choosing to be hopeful, choosing to look on the bright side.