Suburban Goddess

I walked into the office kitchen to warm up a cup of hot water for my afternoon decaf tea. After standing patiently for the two minutes, the timer on the microwave went off. I looked in vain for another good two minutes for my mug…

… which was in the microwave….

…. with the water in it.

My best friend made the comment that one of the things she loved the most about presents from my family was my mom’s crazy present toppers. Mom would always affix some cheap but fun little toy to the bow of her gifts; to this day, it’s still a family tradition.  So of course, I decided to carry it on, and found various little knick-knacks for all of Alex’s gifts.

Alex has been with her father this week, but he was kind enough to give me last night with her to break up the (very long) week. Immediately upon entering the house, Alex noticed something had changed.

“Mommy!  There’s presents under the tree!”

“Yes, honey, I know.”

She moved quickly, and before I knew it, she had ripped a small tiger toy I’d taped carefully to one of her gifts and held it above her head in triumph.

“Look, Mommy! I always WANTED one of these! He’s so CUTE!”

“Alex! That’s not until Christmas day!!! You’re not supposed to take that off yet!”

Her little face dropped in disappointment as the tiger slipped from her fingers and landed on the floor. It couldn’t have gotten any worse if I’d shot the dog.

“You mean I can’t have it now?”

“No, baby… that’s part of the present,” I tried to explain, picking it up and taping it back to the gift it was taken from. “You have to wait until Christmas to play with it.”

She knelt down in front of the tree, fat tears rolling down her cheeks. “But I really love him, Mommy.”

“I know, Alex… but this is for Christmas morning. You can play with him then.” My heart was hurting for her, but I knew if I caved, there wouldn’t be anything left to open by Christmas.

She sat in front of the tree for the next hour, pointing to each topper. “Is that mine, too?” “I have to wait until Christmas?”"I can’t play with it now?”

Maybe some family traditions need to be changed.

I’ve always been a complainer. It runs in my family… we just sound miserable by nature. Sometimes I hear myself and want to shut it off; as the words tumble from my mouth, I hear the negativity and try to pull them back.  But it’s too late. They are already out there.

And once they’re out, they truly do set the mood… You can watch the negativity catch hold and spread. A couple of times in sheer curiosity, I would play a little social experiment on my old staff: I’d throw out a negative comment and watch it take hold of the mood of the entire department. Yet when I would come in upbeat, playful and cheerful, that mood would catch as well.

It was a powerful statement to me on two fronts: 1) the power of negativity and 2) the effect I had as a leader on my team. People looked to me for guidance.

It’s no secret that this past year has been difficult for me. I’ve been wallowing in a sea of self-pity for quite some time… and the negativity flows freely. If only it were as simple to be positive; if only people enjoyed gossiping about the GOOD things in their life as much as the bad. What is it about misery? Most cliches are founded in truth; misery LOVES company. But why? Why are we so readily drawn to it?

Why is it so hard for some of us to be happy?

It always bothers me when someone throws out, “It’s a choice.” Like I choose to be unhappy… really? Does anyone consciously choose misery over happiness? Now I’m not saying that my subconscious mind isn’t screwed up here, but if it were simply as easy as saying, “I’m gonna be happy,” don’t you think I’d DO THAT?

It’s no secret… I wear my heart on my sleeve. I’m almost incapable at hiding my feelings. I’m HORRIBLE at poker. And I’ve had a rough year; there’s been many life setbacks that would knock a person to their knees over the course of time. Mine all decided to coincide with the year 2009. I’m not quite sure why I’m so aware of them all now; it seems like life until this year was deceptively easy. I try to hold on to the good things… I really do. I cling to my daughter’s happy little face, find thanks that I have a job and a roof over my head. I have an amazing support network of friends and family that have held me together this year. And above all, there is faith in God… despite it all, I know, I just KNOW I’m being prepared for something. I’m not sure what, but I sincerely trust that whatever it is, I just have to be aware that I am not in control of it.

So again… back to square one. Back to focusing on the good (and there is so much) in my life. It is a constant struggle, fighting the internal dialogue, but it’s not one I can afford to give up. I saw the greatest post the other day; it struck me so deeply I wrote it down and Post-It noted it in three places.

When you change, the environment will change.

It’s true. If you don’t believe me, try it yourself.

Editorial Note: This conversation is concerning Farmville, a popular Facebook application that my entire family is now completely addicted to. Its like crack for Facebookers. Stay away. Do not fall into the trap.

V: How do you trap that little &$%^ into the hay so she won’t move?
stop laughing at me

Me: Where you start when you launch the application; delete everything around her, and then lay the hay down

V: Thank you, I’ve got 100 gifts now and more on my gift request, should I NOT accept them or leave them there and see what happens?

Me: I’m leaving mine

V: You got 100 too?

Me: lol… yeah
And about 60 more left over

V: Bitch
I JUST SLAPPED YOU

Me: lol… Mother!

BFD: How much would you say that you drink in one day

Me: Three cups

BFD: How big are the cups? Espresso or normal?

Me: Pretty big. Normal coffee, though. Most of the time.

BFD: So how many ounces?
obviously not an 8oz cup
so 12 24

Me: lol… you’re asking me for conversions?

BFD: 32? Or do you use the pot?

Me: A coffee cup and a half times three
Seriously, I have no concept of ounces

BFD: I’ll speak in Starbucks terms
Vente?
How many vente do you have a day?

Me:
YES
THREE

BFD: Vente is 20oz

Me: Dear heaven

BFD: So you have 60 oz…
Stand by

Me: Um… yeah

BFD: 637.5 mg of caffeine a day.

“At doses of 600 milligrams (about six cups of coffee) or more daily, caffeine can cause nervousness, sweating, tenseness, upset stomach, anxiety, and insomnia. It can also prevent clear thinking and increase the side effects of certain medications. This level of caffeine intake represents a significant health risk.”

Me: rofl… WOW

BFD: hmmmm…sound familar

Me: I don’t sweat.

BFD: Wow….one out of how many
I will give you this though
It also says that cold turkey can cause extreme dips and cause a severe depressed state for up to 48 hours….SO
we dont want that either
so you have a week to cut back
By not this monday but next monday, you should be down to less then a cup in the morning

Me: If I’m depressed BEFORE cutting out the coffee…
I’ll be suicidal by next Monday

After the little whiny-schpiel about my house on Monday, I was met at the daycare door with a long face.

“I have something I have to tell you.”

The chant began in my head immediately: No bad news. No bad news. No bad news. Unfortunately, it did not carry over into her head, because my daycare lady told me she would be closing her doors in two weeks.

You know how sometimes, you just can’t take anymore, and you just sort of emotionally shut down? It’s almost like there’s a little troll that lives in your head, and he’s an evil little bastard who takes great joy in watching you suffer, standing in front of the little electrodes that pulse in pain and giggling with glee as you stress out… but there’s a point where even he says, “oh damn… enough already,” and he’s kind enough to shut off that little pain switch so you’re left with a blissful numbness. Yeah.  Thanks, little troll. It’s about damn time.

I closed my eyes to process the information. This meant there would be a phone call; if he gloated, Alex would be an orphan. I made the decision to wait until morning to make the call; sitting on my emotions is not something I’m good at, but I went against everything in my being with this one. I’m glad I did.

He continued to surprise me with his new attitude. He didn’t rub my nose in it in any way. I saw a glimpse of the man I married; kind, funny, and helpful. He admitted that running the business was harder than he anticipated. I told him I’d visit it that afternoon.

I know a few weeks ago, I swore up and down I’d roast in hell (paraphrasing) before I put my kid in his daycare, but that was because I just did not want to move her. Of course, I’d be lying if I said there weren’t personal reasons as well… I can admit that. But now I am in the position of having to make a choice. Do I put her in another daycare, at more money, with no guarantees of her happiness, just out of spite? And how much strife would THAT little prideful move cost me? Or do I give it a chance, hope this “New Improved X” sticks around, and everyone wins?

Here we go again… open the box, put the spoon in, dig it out, and take a big, old bite….

So I’m having a rather decent day; I got up, went to church, then rounded out the Christmas shopping for Alex.  Feeling pretty good about THAT aspect of my life, I pulled into my driveway to find water pouring out of the front door.

Have you ever had a surreal moment as you tried to figure out what was wrong? Because I was pretty damn sure that water wasn’t supposed to be coming out of my front door. I mean, for a moment, bizarre things ran through my head. Did I leave the bathtub running? Did the dishwasher explode? Was the dog surfing?

Fast forward a few seconds and the panic set in. Whatever it was, it could not be a good thing. I ran to the door, fumbling with the keys frantically before the door pushed open. The first step into the house was not good; the water swirled around my ankles.

Insert various four-letter words here.

Each step was rewarded with the sickening squish of the carpet until I rounded the corner to find three inches of water in my dining room and kitchen… an ominous hiss resonated beneath the bar.  I knew that hiss; I immediately made a mad dash outside to the main water cutoff, a trail of four letter words behind me… my behavior startled my neighbors who were standing outside.

“Are you okay?  Do you need help?”

“My house is underwater!” I cried in my typical overly dramtic fashion as I dashed back inside to survey the damage. The neighbors trailed in behind me with whispered utterances of disbelief… it WAS pretty bad. Immediately, the husband ran next door to return with two brooms. He and his wife immediately started to push as much water as possible out of the back door. After a moment, I realized I should probably help. With a broom and a mission, I began to think out loud about how much a plumber would cost me on a Sunday… the neighbor looked at me with pity.

“You mind if I take a look?”

“Not at all…” I sighed as another wave of water was pushed out the door.

At the end of the day, he fixed my issue for a mere $6 from the Ace hardware store. A $6 piece of plastic tube is responsible for a soggy living room, several warped cabinets, a destroyed bar, and one completely freaked out dog. I am incredibly grateful to him; had I called a plumber, I can only imagine how much more expensive this fiasco would cost me. Several hours and two shop-vacs later, I’ve given up hope that my carpet can be saved. The dog is lying at my feet, trembling in terror when I turn on a faucet. My cabinets are shifting and cracking.

Thank God for homeowner’s insurance.

2009, you are a complete bitch. You just have to get the last word in, don’t you?

Me:  D!
There’s SNOW…
On the GROUND!!
SEND HELP!!

D: You might get stuck and have to cook your coworkers
It happens all the time up here in February

Me:
I can’t walk to my Jeep!

D: ………
Is there a 3″ snow drift you can’t get over?

Me:  No… it’s TOO COLD

D: Texans are pussies

Me: rofl
It’s really quite funny

D: In a sad and pathetic sort of way

Me:
Yeah. Like your love life.
DOH!