Suburban Goddess

I’m having a hard time keeping up with everyone’s expectations of me at the moment; mother, professional, girlfriend, teacher, co-worker… I feel like I’m balancing a tower of glass, and the glasses keeping falling one by one. Nobody is harder on me than myself; with each complaint, disappointment, and comment, I feel like an overwhelming failure.

I’ve come to the conclusion that it is not feasible, no, not even REALISTIC to be perfect in everything I do. I’m finally realizing I CAN’T be perfect in anything anyway. All I can do is the best that I can do, and leave the rest up to God. The pressure/fear of failing is dragging me down and pulling me under.

God had taken me this far. He will not let me go now. There must be great things beyond the horizon, if I can just stay focused on one thing at a time…

“It’s like you take a dump, but you refuse to flush the toilet… and it just sits here, getting stinkier and stinkier, but you won’t flush. You NEED to flush the toilet!”

I laughed at my best friend’s advice, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that he was right. I hold on to worthless things… hell, worse than worthless. Crappy! My life is full of crap that is so easily removed, yet I hang on to it… and I’m not quite sure why. Is it the crippling fear of change? Is there comfort in the misery? Obviously not… I feel like crap. I live with anxiety that has become so overwhelming that at times I question my own sanity.  I long for peace in my life again; I wonder if I will ever find the elusive emotion again.

I know it all comes with letting go. Why is that so damn hard for me?

Yesterday, on my birthday, I was lying on the floor next to my beautiful baby girl. She rolled over to me, stuck her little rear straight up, and suddenly giggled.

PFFFFTTTT.

“You did NOT just toot on Mommy!”

(hysterical giggles) “I did!”

“Get away from me!” I cried, rolling her away as the stench assailed my senses. “UGH!” We played the rolling game for a moment, her rolling closer, me rolling her away, until she rolled close again with her sweet baby voice… “Mommy, I won’t do it again, I promise.”

I kissed her forehead as she wiggled closer, until somehow she had managed to but her fanny back in my face.

PFFFFFTTTTT. (hysterical giggles again)

Happy birthday to me.

As I wake up on this, the last day of my 33rd year of life, I am happy to say it will soon be over. 33, that is. Hopefully not my life, but that’s in God’s hands. I have to say, I haven’t been very grateful to him for my life this year; many mornings I awoke with a sick despair. The year kicked off with a horrible betrayal that rocked me to my very core, which lead to me making some pretty stupid mistakes. Then I lost my job right before Christmas, which was completely unexpected, and my house was broken into and everything of value was stolen. I got a new job, but it was so stressful that I spent close to six months sick. My father was diagnosed with cancer, my finances were strained beyond my means, and here at the end, another situation that emotionally hurts so much that it’s effecting my physical health.

Enough already.

Sometimes I don’t know how I’m going to make it through. But then I have to stop myself and look at all the things I had between the struggles.

I landed a new job almost immediately. Twice.

I learned the true meaning of forgiveness.

I met some amazing people that have become great friends.

I am much closer to my dream than I’ve ever been.

I have an amazing kid who makes me laugh even when I think there’s nothing left to laugh at.

My father is doing better than they ever expected, and he’s still around telling the same great stories that I loved dearly as a child.

In the past year, I learned exactly how immaterial material things are. I learned how to humble myself and ask for help. I was amazed at how many people are willing to help me.

I learned that relationships are the heart of life… and I’ve grown to cherish each and every one with the people that I love.

And I learned that when you drop the walls and make yourself vulnerable, no matter how hard it is to put your heart back out there with the potential that someone will drive a knife through it… sometimes that gamble pays off, and you will find a love unlike anything you’ve ever had or even thought possible.

The struggles of 33 have made it, truly, one of the hardest years of my life. I know there are those out there who have suffered far worse than me, who have troubles that I couldn’t imagine, and my heart breaks for them. In the past year, I’ve reached out to total strangers in pain because I know how hard it is to struggle alone…. nobody should have to endure life’s heartaches alone.

I am so thankful for everyone in MY life who felt that way, and reached out to me. I could not have made it through this year without them. Time to pay it forward.

Today, I have a wedding to shoot while my parents watch my baby girl. Tonight I will have dinner with the most important and cherished people in my life. Today is the bright red cherry on top of a shit sundae… I’ve learned to find the joy in the small moments, because it is there every single day if you just open your eyes and look for it.

Goodbye, 33. I learned a lot from you…. the hard way. But it just wouldn’t be me to do things the easy way, now would it?

Alex and I were walking through the grocery store yesterday.

“Mommy?”

“Yes, baby girl?”

“I want a little brother.”

“Oh… well, they don’t sell those here.”

“Oh.”

(pause)

“Can we go to the baby brother store when we leave here, then?”

“God is great, God is good, let us thank him for our food; bow our heads as we are fed, thank you Lord for our daily bridge.”

“Bridge? Don’t you mean bread?”

“No, Mommy, that’s not how it goes.”

“Are you sure?  Bridge doesn’t sound right.”

“MOM-MY…. I KNOW how it GOES. It’s BRIDGE. BREAD doesn’t make any sense, does it?”

“What is that? Snickers for breakfast?”

“No, I had breakfast tacos for breakfast.”

“Looks like a Snickers bar to me…”

“It is, this is my breakfast dessert.”

“You eat dessert with breakfast, too?”

“Absolutely, There’s always room for dessert. And since breakfast is the most important meal of the day, why should it get shafted the opportunity to have dessert as well? I mean, that’s just wrong.”

“You’re crazy.”

“There’s more in the fridge if you want one.”

“I’m on my way.”

“You really shouldn’t refer to yourself as a ’social networking whore.’”

“It’s tongue-in-cheek. Self-depreciating humor.”

“Oh, I know, but not everyone understands geek terminology. Someone with limited Internet skills may misinterpret your statement as some new type of prostitution.”

“Who doesn’t understand the term “Social Networking?’”

“What about your mom?”

“Oh. Crap. Very good point.”

I pulled into the gas station this morning with the bright yellow gas can flashing on my dashboard. I will do anything to avoid pumping gas, including running my car to the point of choking for fuel. I swiped my debit card at the pump, but was denied access, getting a message that said “Please See Cashier.”

“If I wanted to see the cashier, I would have paid inside,” I mumbled at the inanimate object as I walked away. Surprisingly, it did not respond.

Here’s the deal with paying at the pump; I don’t know how much it will cost to fill up, so when I go in, I never know how much to ask for. And when I’m done pumping gas, if the needle isn’t completely to the “F,” both my OCD and irritation kick in at the same time. One, because it’s not on the “F.”  Two, because it’s just that much sooner before I have to go through this whole freaking gas-pumping ordeal again.

I handed the cashier my debit card and told him $25, knowing that would probably get me close to the “F,” but the only thing that irritates me more than having to walk in once is having to walk in twice because I overpaid. (Yes, this is stupid, I know, but this is my pet peeve.) He swiped the card and looked at me with that “You’re a deadbeat” look.

“DE-clined,” he said with a thick Indian accent.

“Impossible,” I stated. “I have $1500 in that account.”  He rolled his eyes and swiped it again.

“DE-clined.”

“That’s impossible,” I repeated. I took the card and stepped to the side so the man behind me could check out. I flipped the card over and dialed the number to card services, and was immediately placed on hold.  The same thing happened to me less than six months ago; an employee of a super-chain store ran off with a box of credit card slips. The bank decided to shut off everyone’s credit card without any notice, which stranded me at the exact same gas station at the exact same time of the morning.  So I figured this must have happened again. In the meantime, I don’t carry cash, and my emergency credit card was frozen in a block of ice in my freezer  (Long story, but if you’re trying not to use your credit card, it REALLY works!). The only other option I had was an old checkbook that still had my ex’s address on it, which was all the way back in my car. I huffed back outside to get it, still on hold with Card Services. Throughout this entire charade, Alex is dancing around, tweeting like a parrot: “Doughnuts! Doughnuts!” I grab the checkbook and the kid, still on hold, going back inside, waiting in line for ten minutes only to be denied again when I get to the counter.

“We do not accept checks.”

(“Doughnuts! Doughnuts!”)

“What do you mean, you don’t accept checks?”  In my ear, the customer service lady finally answers with a I-hate-my-job-tone.

“Card Services.”

(“Doughnuts! Doughnuts!”)

“I am sorry, but we do not accept checks,” the clerk shook his head. “CARD SERVICES.”

“HOLD ON, PLEASE…” I said through gritted teeth.

(“Doughnuts! Doughnuts!”)

“I have NO gas!” I cried before shooting my daughter a I’m-gonna-give-you-to-the-gypsies-if-you-don’t-shut-up-right-now-look.

“Sor-ree, lad-dee.”

Sometimes you have to take a deep breath. Either that or go completely postal. I opted for the deep breath; postal would have to wait until I bought a weapon.

I grabbed Alex and stomped back to the car, explaining to the lady on the phone that my card was declined despite the fact that I have money in my account, and now I was stranded at a gas station, late for work, with a howling doughnut-deprived 4 yr. old. Thankfully, her tone changed from one of indifference to sympathy. Maybe she was a single mother, too. After a few clicks of the keyboard, she informed me that my card had been deactivated because of fraudulent activity on the account.

“What do you mean, FRAUDULENT?  Like, someone has my card number???”  Immediately, my heart stopped as I thought of all the bills I had floating, and if there were no money in my account, I was SCREWED. But she reassured me that they had protected my account, and had me verify my last purchase.

Of course, none of this helped the fact that I was out of gas… but thankfully, I was close enough to my house that I coughed the Jeep back home to get my emergency credit card. Ten minutes of hot water later, my card was in hand and I was able to get gas and, to Alex’s happiness, doughnuts.

Moral of the story: carry cash.

So now I’m going through the hassle of figuring out how many accounts have been compromised, changing all the passwords, calling all the institutions… such a pain in the butt. But I’m thankful despite the inconvenience; the headache of account maintenance is certainly better than the stress of financial ruin. I guess that’s just part of the risk you take when you count on digital transactions.

Me I almost bought a plane ticket to NY the other day
D: what stopped you?
Me: Reason
D: hah
Me: Damn reason
Me: Life was much more fun when I was ridiculously irresponsible