Frustrations of being human


My son, I love him dearly, but…can that kid drive me to my limits. My day consisted with kind of a crummy work day, then going to Walmart to pick up groceries for our Thanksgiving dinner. While shopping my son’s teacher called, a 20 minute conversation was had standing by the frozen turkeys. My son just decided he didn’t want to participate today, no work was completed for 6 periods. He wasn’t combative which sadly is good news. I spend my $150 in the self check-out. Come home to him in his “mood”.

Long story short, my son was upset his teacher embarrassed him in front of the whole class. He’s yelling and let me tell you, this kid has some lungs, and it pushes my limits. My daughter decides this is the time to inform him he was being selfish two days ago when he ate the last package of cinnamon rolls. So here I am, trying to discuss school and listening to them argue over fucking cinnamon rolls, both yelling over the other.

Finally my son and I get to discuss his day, his version. Sounds to me his lack of attention and honestly, I feel, his lack of respect has pushed his second period teacher to her limits. I listen respectfully and calmly explain “hey bud, do you think it’s possible when you have to be constantly redirected because of your lack of focus, do you think it’s possible that in a class of twenty something kids and the teacher who has a plan set by the school district how much work she is “REQUIRED” to teach all these kids for 9 periods a day, and that doesn’t allot her extra time to constantly redirect you or pull you aside for a lengthy explanation of how your actions appear disrespectful to her and the whole class…do you think it’s possible in her day she can, I don’t know, become human and get frustrated with you? Lose her patience?” Mind you while I said this, I had to snap my fingers a minimum of three times, and tell him no I will not let you speak yet at least two times. Sigh.. he is exhausting.

The night moved forward. Then Ryan begins to tell me how he was then yelled after school because he was startled and did his extremely high pitched scream in someones face who then yelled at him to “knock of that god damn girly shit”. Sigh… big sigh… I’m expected to address each and every person who doesn’t have the ability to calmly explain in detail with compassion and honestly, I’m exhausted. Did I do this? Did I cause his thinking the world has to tip toe around his feelings?

ThenĀ I’m cleaning my house preparing for a big Thanksgiving feast and my mom visiting, that’s stressful, my mom! I must have told my son a minimum of twelve times tonight to lower his voice, stop yelling. I use hand gestures to remind him, I give him the look that says “Dude! Enough!”. I am calm and patient at 5 pm… even 6 pm.. but by 7:30 when I’ve had him purposely scream like a girl terrified on a roller coaster in my face, I’ve had enough. I’m now yelling at him, firmly. Even popping him in the mouth with the reminder “I’ve asked you how many times to stop yelling!?”. In the end, I kick him out of the living room which took at least twenty minutes to make him go, and he’s in tears might I add. And I’m sitting here pissed and feeling guilty.

In 3 hours I managed to turn his shitty “I don’t want anyone here for thanksgiving! I hate school and I hate my life and I don’t want to see anyone!” to cheering up and being back to his goofy self and laughing…. to sending him to his room in tears. And I’m sitting her blogging my frustrations to avoid going in my room and popping a xanax. I am afterall, human. Extremely amazing and strong, but still human.

Life Lesson 4267


When you find this, it will scare the shit out of you. You will be waiting for the rug to get ripped right out from under you, leaving you knocked on your ass.

Take deep breaths, enjoy it for however long it is, don’t over process, and just remember you fucking deserve it.

Life lesson 423



Could it be


Truth is, I’m in denial of this possibility.

But I can’t deny the fact that once I got passed the initial “hell no that’s not gonna happen” then I realized I had began to feel emotions I honestly didn’t think could be possible. Not with my reinforced steel wall! Considering changes to how I envision my future and who will be in it. Looking forward to Friday’s, and genuinely dreading Monday’s. Getting used to hearing my laughter, and my sassy-silly self being so goofy just to make others laugh at me, with me, it doesn’t matter as long as they laugh in my presence. Sometimes my cheeks hurting from smiling. Feeling understood. Being touched and not pulling away but instead, pulling closer.

Truth is, yes I’m terrified. But oh my goodness, it’s so much more fun than I expected.

Brush that shit off



Protected in pillows


I’m very familiar with this life lesson. Yes it’s a painful lesson, and usually affects more than just myself.

The other day while driving home, I had a conversation with my daughter about people’s behavior and how best to interact. Attempting to educate her with some lessons I’ve learned along the way, I realized I couldn’t think of having this conversation with my mom. How I wish my mom had been able to share guidance for me along my journey, save me some pain and time. I’m not sure that she has much awareness on lessons, she’s stubborn like a bull. But seeing her ways has taught me to open myself to the need to internally grow. Luckily, I’ve met some amazing people that have been able to verbalize some great experiences to help me.

I’ve recently really put myself out there. Dating isn’t something I enjoy. Yes, the newness is fun in the beginning, but I just want to relax and be myself. I yearn being in sync with someone, having a person who just gets me, thinks of my response before I even say it. I can say this fella, he gives me a reminder that maybe it’s possible to find that. And he genuinely seems to be in awe of my awesomeness. But I’m still scared. Scared of losing myself. Scared of realizing too late that with him came baby mama drama, not being fully available, another person who made me laugh and smile but ended up hiding a darkness that I should have seen.

I don’t trust myself. I don’t trust my judgment. I don’t ever want to be the person I used to be. The fear of that alone is enough to make me run. To make me curl into a ball, buried in pillows and blankets, and wonder “what if” from a safe distance. Because at least in that, my heart is safe. Lonely and empty, a little bit dark, but protected.

One decision


One decision..
One choice..

To take you to a completely different direction, open a whole new journey. Like a fork in the road, but there’s no guarantee which one is better for you. So fear is shouting “what if it’s worse than where I’ve been or where I’m at?”, then hope whispers softly “but what if it’s not?”.

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