Tis this season too

Seasonal depression timing is coming. Are you doing the things that you need to do to prepare for it? Are you making sure that you are planning things that you will actually follow up and do? Here are some of the things that I do to prepare.

First off, I allow myself to know that it is perfectly acceptable to have down days to do nothing. It is ok to have days that running laundry through the washer and dryer are considered productive. Reading a good book is productive. Watching movies and allowing your feelings to fall out of your eyes is productive. SOMETIMES. However, not all the time. Not when it is day after day after day.

Personally, I like to bake during the colder months. So I start a Pinterest folder for the things I want to bake this year. Since it helps me feel like I was productive and gives me a momentary smile I consider it a win. Even though I will never look at it again.

So then I print out the few that I may actually make since it now shows a different level of seriousness. This may or may not work, but it sure makes me feel like it will.

These last few years I have chosen to start a new gym routine in the beginning of December so that I already have a routine set in my mind before all of the ‘resolutioners’ bear down on the local gyms. There is nothing worse then trying a new routine when you are climbing around a bunch of fresh and clean gym members who talk too much while they stare at every move you make thinking if they watch hard enough they could remember each and every step. They won’t, but that doesn’t stop them from trying. Would you like a little piece of advice from someone who has been enduring torture as my self care routine for a few years? It’s ok to watch for motivation, but we know the difference between someone being creepy vs someone with honest intent to learn.

Now, does that mean that my routine won’t get shook up during the first six weeks of the year before they drop like flies? Nope not at all. It will absolutely get shook up. The difference is that now I am in the mindset of getting through it so that the work I put in wasn’t a waste. When I started the routine I gave myself a goal. Inches off the measuring tape in a certain problem area, or a pair of jeans that I want to fit in. Sometimes it is as simple as how I want my arms to look in a bridesmaids dress that I know someone is making me wear. Whatever it is, I want those results.

There is a feeling that you get when you set a goal, push through the bullshit and get the results. It is unmatchable by any amount of laziness, or comfort food. That makes me move. Is that enough for you?

The last thing that I do is make sure that I feel out where the people I live with are at with their mental health. Sometimes it can’t be about me. Sometimes I have a child struggling and instead of allowing myself to wallow, I now need to be watching them and keeping them moving instead. That changes from year to year of course, but if I am not prepared for it then there is a lot of scrambling. I can handle my boat being rocked a bit of course (well, hopefully) but there have been years that it comes so far out of left feild when I wasn’t ready that it blows me out of the water.

That’s going to happen sometimes I suppose, but if I can make it to where it isn’t EVERY year then I feel like I am winning the battle.

Do you have a plan?

Cemetaries

There is something cathartic about going to the cemetery.

I spent many years avoiding going there for anyone I had lost, telling myself that I could communicate with them wherever I was. Why would I need to get in the car and go to the last resting place of their body shell? Their spirit wasn’t there anymore right?

This goes against a lot of what I was taught growing up but my stubborn mind was made up. Every culture and every religion has their own belief, and while I fully respect just about every one of them I just couldn’t accept them into my reality.

In many ways I still can’t.

But I sat at the cemetery the other day and found myself talking in a way that I hadn’t with them, in years. Open, outloud, honest and raw. What was supposed to be a quick visit turned into over an hour. I had no plans of things to say but there was never a lull in things to talk about. There was laughs to break up the tears that flowed free.

When I walked back to the car there was a sense of relief that I hadn’t felt in quite some time, and suddenly I was aware of something else.

I could NEVER tell my mother that she was right.

Spend the time

At the fun age of 29 plus a few, I find myself having no living grandparents. I have a wonderful grandmother in law, but mine are gone.

I never realized before how much I relied on grandparents knowledge for things over the years. Little daily things that they bestowed advice for that saved more time with the kids instead. Ways to cook more efficiently that somehow tasted better then any recipe I followed!

The hands on my shoulder when I faced something difficult. The smile that gave me the courage to keep pushing through the hard times. The never ending pictures and stories to fall back on when the days were slower.

Why don’t we notice how much we rely on this, how much we LOVE this, until it’s too late??

Hug your parents and grandparents. Take those pictures. Spend that time. It goes too fast.

Missing them always. 😢💔

So now what

Now what?

That’s the only thought I have for this summer in the year following the Covid shutdown. Last year we did our part and stayed home or out of places more often then not. We made sure we wore masks and had a very realistic fear of the ‘what if’ seeing as I work healthcare and saw this from a different very deadly point of view.

However as a parent who’s children virtually learned all year so we didn’t get sucked into the quarentined bubble off and on, my kids need the outside world more then ever.

Every adult in my family has been vaccinated so I should be able to not worry as much going in and out of these places right? Yet I’m not sure.

It has nothing to do with false media junk, or the pressures of the world fear mongering me so please refrain from commenting about that OR the negative opinions of the vaccines. Yes I am asking out loud on social media platforms, so your opinion is valid to respond with I just don’t want the disrespect to outweigh the honest communications. I do respect your choice for you and yours, just please show the same respect here if you chose to comment.

Are you out and about? Indoor and outdoor? Still masking?

❤ Much love to you all. ❤

Little piece of advice

To all beings that are able to read this blog….

Don’t be an asshole!

This doesn’t seem like the hardest thing to accomplish right? Excluding specific experiences that deserve that response of course.

I mean in general. More specifically to what brought me to this topic I will acknowledge that I really mean in a relationship.

When a person has chosen you, and you have chosen them, to build a life with, why would you wreck that by being petty? It’s one thing in the beginning before things get too serious, however years down the road when there is so much invested.

Houses, kids, cars, pets or the simple peice of paper that you both stood up and signed in front of witnesses. Any combination of those listed options works too.

When you can not choose to respect your partner, to CHOOSE your partner every day, in almost any situation then there is a problem.

(Disclaimer before people come at me- I believe in choosing yourself and possibly your children first all of the time. I am in no way speaking of situation that involves people safety, physical or mental.)

I AM however speaking about cheating. If you are unhappy in your relationship, leave. If you are unsatisfied in your relationship, speak with your partner about what could change. If you settled for any reason whatsoever, and you meet The One, and you are sure, leave your relationship.

If you are the one switching from one social media site to another constantly because your partner is catching on, I am speaking to you.

If you are the one deleted texts, calls, DM’s, or changing peoples names in your phone to not get caught, I am talking to you.

If you just can’t help yourself from going to the bar, flirting with people and taking things too far, I am talking to you.

I am sick and tired of having to pick people up mentally, morally and yes sometimes physically because you suck as a human.

You are pathetic and do not deserve the people who dedicated stretches of time to you.

Do better. Be better. Better yet, go the f*** away.

Take in the moment

I watch my children as they go through things that I absolutely remember going through myself and can’t help but feel proud.

I have worked to keep open communication with them all, while firmly keeping the mother child roles in place. I will find out so much later that I missed or messed up on because that is the way that this job works.

However for today I will sit back and allow myself to be proud of them for the choices they make. I will also chose to be proud of the way my husband and I have raised them so far. I look forward to more of these feelings to help counteract the days I feel the polar opposite.

Daddys lessons

Growing up every Saturday afternoon I knew I could find my father in his bedroom playing records on an old record player. As I got a little older he advanced to big speakers attached to whatever the newest computer model he could afford to have. The one constant however was the music.

The man taught me the love of sound.

The feel of the bass coming through the floorboard and pounding a distinct rythm into my soul.

The sound of the harmonies had an absolute calming effect on whatever stresses my childhood overthinking had caused over the last seven days.

He would pull out a chess set sometimes for us to spar without words. Shifting little wooden pieces around the board attempting to out -think each other.

I’ve managed to fall in love with music just the way he does. Every sort of music has heart and soul, even if its not my taste.

I envy those that can close their eyes and play their feelings on an instrument. I dawdled and gave feeble attempts but was never able to truly make magic happen. Not even the type of magic originally spun by someone else.

I’ve come to accept my place in the musical world is simply through someone else’s imagination.

Instead I dedicate every emotion I feel, and every Saturday afternoon, to loud speakers attached to a music playing device like my daddy taught me.

‘Twas the night

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds;
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave a lustre of midday to objects below,
When what to my wondering eyes did appear,
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny rein-deer,
With a little old driver so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment he must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:
“Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on, Cupid! on, Donder and Blixen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!”
As leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
So up to the housetop the coursers they flew
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too–
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a pedler just opening his pack.
His eyes–how they twinkled! his dimples, how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke, it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly
That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight–
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”

By Clement Clarke Moore

Never meant for that to happen

Have you ever felt as if the people around you sometimes throw you to wolves?

It has been a long long time since I was made to feel like that. Especially by people that I hold so dear.

The worst part is that no one seems to feel like they could have prevented the weird set of circumstances that transpired. It was as if it was a perfect storm had all clash together in a brilliant strike that happened to have me dead smack in the middle of it.

It’s hard to even figure out who to be upset with. All I know is that when it happened I suddenly felt so small and insignificant. I was quickly reminded me of what it felt like to be a child between fighting parents who were caught up with their emotions.

Thirty five going on five apparently.

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: