I decided I was going to take part of Katie over at Sluiter Nation‘s Top Ten Tuesday, for fun and because with everything going on with Gma, my brain is spent and I’m tired of Chris asking me if I’m okay. I’m okay dammit.
Anyway, this week, her topic is the bebe’s Christmas list(s). So, here in no particular order are the things my bebe’s list (most of which, they already got).
10. Lalaloopsy Dolls
Chris doesn’t think these are the cutest effing dolls ever. I LOVE this one, she is just so punk rock! In fact, this is the one Caitlin is getting from Chris and I. She’s also getting a twin pack from my parents, and probably a fourth. I love them. A-dor-able.
I’m having a hard time believing it’s already December 1st. My, how things have changed in a year. And I mean, changed in ways you would never believe.
August 2015 was the beginning of the most difficult year of my life and December 1, 2015 was a day which will be burned into my head for a long time. It was the beginning of a lot of struggles. It was the start of a long road to a recovery Chris and I needed. My, oh, my.
Chris lost his job a year ago today, and although he had another job lined up, he had no start date. And I may have mentioned this before, but his old boss was excruciatingly manipulative of Chris, and Chris was actually still technically working for him, receiving phone calls and helping him out via phone with no payment.
This was the beginning of our troubles with the insurance companies because he promised to keep our insurance rolling until his new job started covering us, since Chris was still providing services for him. He lied. He shut it off the very first chance he had.
How was everyone’s Thanksgiving??
Mine was decent. Very different than usual, but decent all the same.
I hadn’t really mentioned it because I had this week’s posts all scheduled up until today and didn’t really feel like going against the schedule or have time to write a whole new post, but my Gma died Tuesday. S’all good, she was 90, it was her time.
My poor Gpa, however, didn’t take it very well. He’s been with her for 65 years and now he’s alone. He looked to her for guidance, and now she’s gone. He still has all of us, in fact, my brother Patrick is going to be staying with him for a little while to keep him company at night and help him ease into the transition of my Gma not being there.
That was the biggest reason our Thanksgiving was different. We usually have our entire family, plus my dad’s best friend and his family and my niece’s adoptive family as well. With the loss of Gma, our Thanksgiving turned into a more intimate family memorial, so it was immediate family only. My oldest brother and his family didn’t come either, so dinner was much more quiet than usual.
A few weeks back two women who I really respect were having a discussion about making healthy food choices. As far as I know, they are both stay-at-home moms trying to support their families on one salary.
One was raised in a single parent home and one was a single mom herself not too long ago. I tell you all this just to say that both of these women have had unique life experiences. Their discussion centered around whether you could be poor and still eat healthy food, or if being poor meant that you could not afford to eat healthy. Obviously, they both had different opinions.
Both acknowledged it was difficult, but they differed on how possible it was to not have money and still eat healthy.
Then today, I came up upon this article saying that healthy food is a privilege of the rich. it’s not what GED students as myself what to hear! I saved some money because I followed free online classes that were very for my GED prep, but I am far from being rich!
And it made me think of their discussion all over again. Are those who have a lower socio-economic level destined to not be able access healthy nutrition?
I’ve mentioned before I don’t care too much for the holiday season.
It’s just a big mess to me.
Don’t get me wrong, I love a lot of holidays, but the “holiday season” is just a long, dragged out hooplah to me.
Although many people consider it beginning at Halloween, which is ABSOLUTELY AWESOME. But after Halloween, it has it’s highs and lows. Namely Thanksgiving. Boring. Nothing good. No candy. At least Christmas has presents and New Year’s Eve has chocolate and cheese fondue.
Growing up, the holiday season was always a bittersweet experience (except Thanksgiving because, like I said, nothing good came out of that) for me. We got awesome goodies, but for a price. All day there was much to do, always so much to do. Much cleaning and helping out. I absolutely detested it.
Ugh, there was just so much to do. And being the youngest? Eventually all my siblings trickled out…and there was only me. For a time.
I am walking into a building, leaving the warm, fall sunlight behind me. Down the stairs into this cellar like auditorium. My mother is beside me, my sister is behind us, Chris is in front with Caitlin and my brother Patrick is angry with me for some unknown reason.
We are dressed up in suits and dresses as we take seats in the very back row, my father is sitting on the stage while my brother Steven walks around the room, giving an introduction.
In front of us are two men I graduated high school with. Why they are there, I do not understand. Because it’s my father? Because they are interested in this announcement we are here for? They recognize my brothers and speak to them as if they are old friends.
My brothers were graduated long before the introduction of these two gentlemen in my life and they were never anything more than classmates. Kinley is sitting in my lap and Caitlin is now in her own seat, enjoying her freedom.
Steven walks behind us and talks and finally introduces my father. He smiles eagerly as my dad walks to the podium, returning his smile. He knows this secret, he knows why we are all there.
Last night was, without a doubt, rough. Personally, I think panic attacks are completely overrated, but that’s just me. I don’t happen to enjoy the “oh-my-god-I-can’t-breath-what-the-fuck-am-I-gonna-do??” moments that tend to surround motherhood, which then are closely followed by mommy guilt. Seriously, it was awful.
For an almost two year old, Caitlin hasn’t had many instances of falling. I can only think of three actually in which there was mass amounts of crying; once when she was an infant and she rolled off the bed when Chris was watching her while I was in the shower and didn’t realize she rolled, once when she fell out of her swing because Chris didn’t strap her in or snap the tray in all the way, both of those she was rather young, an infant-ish age.
The final time was when we first moved in this house and she fell down a couple (not the entire flight) of the stairs on her way down. Yes, there have been bumps and scraps here and there, but those are the only ones I’ve ever actually been present to care for her afterwords. She’s never been seriously hurt, the falls just scare her more than anything while she does get maybe a slight bump.
But last night was completely different and it terrified me…
I have had it. Seriously, I’ve just had it. Yesterday was the final straw.
I’ve mentioned the troubles with my insurance company before. In the (not even full) year we’ve been with them they have lost faxes, called my husband a liar, lied about sending paperwork to the appropriate sectors to get claims fixed and so on. That is just the issues we’ve had on the phone with them. They also don’t cover shit.
They don’t cover the any of the cost of Chris’ Concerta, which is why he had to switch to Ritalin. And the insurance, as it turns out, doesn’t cover much of that one either. So he opted to stop taking it all together. And if you’re married to someone with adult-ADHD, you know how difficult it can be…I mean, you can only take being cut off mid-sentence to talk about something else so many times!
That’s a whole ‘nother story however. A story for when I’m about to divorce him.
Pua’s back. Tell a friend. Guess who’s back, guess who’s back, guess who’s back….
Yes, yes indeed. And boy does it feel good. I just had to take a little hiatus and get my head screwed on and wiggle myself into feeling normal. That hasn’t happened yet, but I haven’t been drinking heavily, so it evens out, right?
Just kidding about the drinking part.
I mean, I don’t drink heavily.
All the time.
So what’s good in the hood, ‘yo? I would just like to give a HUGE thank you to all of you out there in Twitterverse and Blogsphere who have sent me the lovely emails checking in on me throughout the weeks and giving me your love and “miss yous” and for checking back EVERY DAY to see if I’ve written anything and keeping this alive. Thank you. It means the world. If I could bake a dozen of cookies for all of you, I would, but that’s a lot of batter.
I am sitting on the small green couch, cross-legged, with my fingers covering my eyes.
I take a deep breath and begin to count…
I can hear it then. Footsteps and giggles as she attempts to find a hiding space. I hear her run through the kitchen, socked feet padding against the linoleum. Stop. Clatter. Splash. And then more running. Socked feet pounding hard against carpet. Jumping. Running. Giggling.