Going hungry

Why does it feel that I’m starting over? Ah, yes, September, back to school.

I keep trying to be a better wife, a better mother, a better daughter… and occasionally I don’t want to keep trying at all cause I’m just too damn tired of trying to be perfect.    I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror of an elevator the other day – and realized that I need to go back into shape again.  Well, to be honest, I’ve known that for a while, but I’ve sticking my head in the sand all summer.  Or DQ blizzards.  I’ve been hiding in a way.  And now, I’ve simply run out of clothes to wear so I either wear yoga pants for every occasion or buy a whole  plus sized wardrobe.  Not that that’s the worst thing ever, but it isn’t what I really want.  At my present weight, I’m a medium risk for diabetes and since it runs in my family, I better make a decision to take control of my health.   Getting older has its own bag of hammers without me throwing in a few more.

I remember how great it was to traipse around Europe hauling most of my own luggage and I’d like to feel that capable and fit again.   Over the past year,  I have curtailed my activities in order to put his needs first and my world has shrunk quite a bit.   I went to an audition the other day and I haven’t had one in ages.  A woman I know says oh, I  haven’t seen you in a long time and I reply vaguely that I haven’t been around.  I wanted to say, well, I’m invisible so it’s no wonder you haven’t seen me. Then she mentioned how BUSY she had been lately.  As in with her CAREER.  You want to annoy the heck out of another actor, just start talking about how busy you are with work.  It’s just that way in this profession – you know, there’s never enough work for everyone.  Thanks for that.  I bit my tongue and didn’t launch into how busy I had been at MOTHERING my delightful child.  Hey, you never know – I mean maybe she thinks my life is PERFECT.     I read an article in a family magazine at the doctor’s office yesterday about that very thing – feeling invisible as a mum, that is.  The author recognized that she was fine with feeling that way because it meant that she was putting the  needs of her child first and that as the child grew she could get back to “her” life.

Yeah, it’s the interim that I’m having a little trouble with.  It occurs to me that I’m a late bloomer so to speak.  I got married at 38, and baby came along after my first gray hair.   I’m not so good at balancing my wants vs. everyone else’s.     I certainly recognize that I spent the first six months blissed out and happy that I was finally in the motherhood club after my 7 year mission to get there and then fought like hell to have my voice heard and not digest the MOTHERHOOD/MARTYR diet that people insisted I subsist on.  I wasn’t SUPPOSED to have ANY time for myself.  Well, if I could do it as long as no one else was inconvenienced or put upon.    So basically my sleeping time.  The non structured way I had of living my life as an adult was in direct opposition to raising a kid.  I worked at night, I auditioned at random times throughout the day, went to acting class, spent 1 1/2 hrs at the gym a few times week, visited my mum in the afternoons, and fit in the dog, the household chores, Buddhist activities and friends and hubby.    I had all that down to a science and then my little guy came along and as he became mobile and more vocal, what semblance of balance and control I had went out the window.  Oh, so this is what all those mothers were bitching about!  Yeah, I get it now.

So I joined Weight Watchers again.  Working on a better frame of mind  – I’ve got a lot of background noise going on right now with my mum’s deteriorated state,  but I hope I can do better this time.  Scheduling in myself as a priority.  I’m scared of being  hungry, but food is not what I truly crave.   Being hungry makes me angry.  Man, I wish I had stayed in therapy.

 

Tears of joy

I’m weeping tears of joy because it’s the first time I’ve ever seen a case like this turn out well.  I have to admit that when I watched the news the other night and saw the room of the alleged suspect I was sick to my stomach.  Welcome back Kienan!

How toddlerhood can break a grown man down

So DH says last night – “It’s all about making it to nap time, then after that, it’s all about making it til 7:30 (winding down to bed time).”  AHAHAHAHAHAHAH!   Maybe I should just start a series called, “Really?  I have no idea of what you mean.”

I’m the one who needs a full time paying job.  On a series.  For 12 hours a day.  You read it here first.  So hubby can stay home and take it “easy”.

Life goes on

Is it just me or am the only one who keeps forgetting things? After our return from TO, we were supposed to go to my mum’s care home for an evening BBQ and we just plain forgot about it.  Both of us.  And we had just been there the day before and been reminded.   I’m like hey let’s go for a walk around the block we have nothing to do…  duh!    Mind you, we were a bit jet lagged. It’s unusual that we both forgot we were supposed to be somewhere else.

Then yesterday, we’re getting ready to go help out a friend who needed someone to watch the kids and I’m packing up the kid’s things, put milk in his sippy cup, and you guessed it, leave it behind. Earlier, I decide to have oatmeal, put it on the stove, decide to get to some emails, and you guessed it, burnt the heck out of my pot while I’m sitting two feet away.  This morning, DH found a piece of fish in the oven that I was baking for my son’s dinner while I was making his breakfast…two days ago.

Okay, something has to change here.  Not quite sure what, but something does.  For instance, my waistline.  Oh boy.    The only thing that makes me feel better is that during hubby’s stay at home, he’s forgetting right along with me.  It’s the damn multi-tasking.  I often do two or three things at once and then with hubby at home, he’s asking me this and that, and the kid needs this and that and ohmigod, we gotta get out the door again.

And speaking of going downhill, my mum’s condition has gotten a bit worse.  I’ve written about it before, this losing her in bits and pieces.  The second I got off the plane last week, I get a call from her dentist saying he may have to pull her one and only front tooth as it may be giving her pain.  So far, I can put off that decision for a bit because there’s other pressing matters.    Two days ago, she fell again and this time she sustained a cut below her right eye and a cut above her left eye.  We went to see her right away and as we get off the elevator she’s walking down the hallway with  a staff member and her wheelchair is sitting there in her room.  Sigh.  I had just told them to keep her in the wheelchair as much as possible.  Tears are flooding my eyes as I try to wipe off dried blood from my mother’s face and hands.  She’s fine, I’m barely hanging in there while I talk to the staff.  They do not have a protocol to just restrain her without doctor’s orders and approval from me, so I’ve given them the okay to put a lap belt on her to keep her in a wheelchair.  They keep talking about her right to walk, but we reminded them that she is not capable of understanding the consequences of her walking unassisted.  And since they do not have the staff to dedicate to her one on one care, then it’s impossible for them to guarantee her safety.  I just can’t take any more phone calls reporting her falls anymore.  I’m not saying they’re being neglectful, that would mean they were ignoring her on purpose, but at the best of times, there 3 care aides, 1 leisure activity person who is wrangling a group of seniors and one nurse on the entire floor.  Yes, I’ve also asked them to walk her for exercise as often as they can.  On the bright side, there’s also residents who are in worse condition than she is, so I need to be grateful for what I do have with her.

And speaking of gratitude, my relationship with hubby is improving.  We’re actually laughing together and that’s always a good sign.  His co-parenting has opened his eyes a bit.  Now he’s understanding the the growing demands of a toddler can be a little chaos inducing and mind numbing at the same time. The big revelation?  That my days are actually quite full even though I don’t have a “job”.  And he’s just as tired as I am at the end of the day.   I can tell he’s itching to get back to work.  What?  Cleaning the house, walking the dog, making meals and cleaning up after the kid not mentally stimulating enough for you?  What – you mean you can’t work out and walk him around the block on his bike at the snail pace he likes to go?  Mind you, someone has to bring the big bucks home.   The Precious is crazy for his daddy, so he’s all over him all the time.  Hah!  Gotta go get a pedicure, babe.  See ya!