Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Stereotypes - a repost because I think I'm funny.

My dear, sweet, black-hearted friend posted THIS BLOG (which I highly recommend you read so you'll understand what set me off) about stereotypes which then led me to follow with the following comments:


Obviously the person/people bitching about unfunny sober people have never been around sober-by-choice people. I, too, say "have one for me" to normal drinkers. I never wanted to be a "normal" drinker anyway. I wanted to be drunk. Now. With giddiness, dizziness, and extreme irresistableness (yes, I'm making up words to suit my purpose). Unfortunately it always progressed to sluttiness and I-hate-myself-ness.

Here are some of the stereotypes I get to deal with:

1. Fat people are lazy.
Yes, I can be lazy, but it usually comes after a day of getting kids off to school, going to work, battling through stubborn kid homework, making supper, getting everything prepared for next day, laundry, and collapsing into bed for an hour of me-time before falling asleep. Lather, rinse, repeat, 5 days a week. <--Check out those rhyming skills. ;-)

2. People on welfare are lazy bums screwing the taxpayers.
I wish I didn't have to rely on the government for assistance, but I do and am very grateful it is there. Without state-subsidized health insurance, my children and I would have NO health insurance. I KNOW how lucky I am to qualify. Without the ins. I would have to go off my meds. That's not good. An unmedicated asthmatic with allergies who is prone to depression isn't a good thing to have roaming around, much less raising children.

Part of my attempt to pay back society in return for my insurance is to not live like a drunken douchebag and commit crimes. That's the least I can do.

3. Fat chicks are either really funny or total bitches.
Ok, you got me on the funny part. Bitchiness usually must be provoked for some time. I'm actually quite nice. In fact, my older brother told me, "You're the only friendly chubby girl I've ever known." He means well. lol

I WOULD like to ask chubby girls to stop SPREADING some stereotypes by wearing spandex or clothes that are 4 sizes to small. Just because you "always buy a size 8" doesn't mean you always SHOULD. I'm not saying you should shop at Tent & Awning, but there's gotta be a happy medium between that and "Muffin Tops & Butt Cracks-R-Us".

Don't forget - I'm a chubby girl, so I have all the right in the world to make that request.

With all of that being said, YOU ARE AWESOME!!!!!!

smooches!

Thursday, February 16, 2012

I LOVE this feeling!

Ever go to bed happy and wake up that same way? I don't very often. I like to sleep in, so waking up is not always a happy feeling. I'm in a great mood! I have been in 2 incredibly awesome Meetings of the Misfits in the last 2 days and have spent time laughing with my best friend. It's been a long time since I've felt this happy. Tomorrow Pamela & I are going on our annual play date! Coffee, smokes, chocolate, shopping, and lunch together. No real agenda other than have fun and laugh til it hurts. I love my life!
 
Please do not view this status as a challenge to piss me off and ruin this feeling. I'm sure I'll be back to my regularly scheduled bitching before too long. :-)

Monday, February 13, 2012

The Incongruency of My Life (Part2)

So I've got these two daughters.  Only in a universe with a twisted sense of humor would I end up with DAUGHTERS.  Sons I would have known what to do with.  Little drama, little whining, more anger and rough-housing.  Those I can handle.  When boys are mad at each other, they duke it out and get over it.  Not girls.  Drama, tattling, whining, etc.  What the hell do I do with that?  My instinct is to shut 'em down as fast as possible.  I'm trying to pick my battles and only intercede when necessary or when I just can't take the bitching any more. :-)

So here I am, a recovering misfit who has come to a disturbing revelation over the last few weeks.

I AM UNDISCIPLINED.  In every way, shape, and manner.  Unfortunately I think that makes me a child in an adult's body.  Not childLIKE, but A child.  Undisciplined as in I do housework only when absolutely necessary.  Clean laundry stays in the baskets until we've worn most of them and need the basket for dirty laundry.  Dishes get rinsed (some times) and piled in the sink until there are no spoons or cereal bowls.  Then they're loaded in the dishwasher, where most get used before it's emptied.  You certainly won't see me on Hoarders, but if there was a show for a single mom with too much to do and not enough motivation to do it, I'd be all over that.

So how does one go about learning self-discipline?  I have tried snapping my fingers, but nothing came of it.  I'm afraid I may have to do this the hard way.  A step at a time.  Baby steps.  Perhaps start with 1 chore that I do every day now matter what.  Which one to pick?  Not a crappy one.  I don't want to do that.  Blech!  That's the crux of the problem...a circular problem.  Not motivated to do anything, so don't do anything, and nothing gets done, therefore overwhelmed by all the things undone, and then paralyzed into not doing a damn thing.

Here you go.  Here's your free pass to tell me what to do (as long as you realize that I may or may not take heed).  What do YOU do to keep yourself disciplined?

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

The Incongruency of My Life

When I was younger, I never wanted to have children.  I was mood, impatient, intolerant, and didn't like them.  In fact, I would avoid them whenever possible.  I was one of THOSE people who would give parents of unruly children dirty looks in the restaurant and wonder why felt they had they right to ruin everyone's dinner with their little ill-behaved monsters who clearly should have to be sedated before venturing in public.  I would babysit for the neighbor kids and after listening to an inconsolable baby cry for an hour would look at him and say, "SHUT UP!  Would you just shut the fuck up!?!?!"  I'm not proud of that, it just is what it is.  There were times I'd put a screaming baby in its crib, make sure it was safe and secure and then I'd go down the hall and scream into a pillow, or just sit there and rock furiously until I didn't want to kill myself or someone else.

I want to state for the record: I HAVE NEVER HIT OR HURT A CHILD OUT OF ANGER.  The closest I've EVER gotten was the day my youngest was being a little shit and answered "YES!" when I said, "Do you WANT a spankin'?"  I couldn't back down.  The swat on the butt was more of a blow to the ego than a spanking.  Please don't tell me your theories on spanking vs. not spanking.  I've heard it all.  I'll respect your decisions, you can respect mine.  Thanks.

It wasn't until I met my now ex-husband that I wanted children.  I wanted them and was crushed when I lost our first baby.  After that, it took 18 months to get pregnant with my oldest daughter and every month leading up to that made me cry when I found out I wasn't pregnant.  Two high-risk pregnancies later, my daughters are now 9 and 7 and 1/2.  The 1/2 is apparently very important.  At least that's what she tells me.

Mothering has never come naturally to me.  I've got the mother bear "don't even THINK about hurting my kids" instinct, but appropriately nurturing is a skill that I have had to learn, practice, and continually remind myself of.  I'm not totally heartless, I'm just...well...I'm just not like the moms I see that I wish I could be like.  Why?  Mostly fear, I suppose.  Fear that I'll screw them up and they'll turn out like me.  That's the reason I didn't really know HOW to be a mom until I was forced into the role of single parent (it started when I was still married though, so perhaps solo-parent is a better description).  Over the last 16 months, my daughters have learned to accept that mom and dad are divorced and will stay that way, and I have learned that some days I measure up as a mom and some days I totally suck at it.

What the hell do I know about trying to give someone a "normal" upbringing?  I was introduced to heroin at age 8 and began stealing drinks of alcohol whenever I possibly could at age 10.  By the age of 13 I was using or drinking more often than not and eventually it was a daily thing.  I tried to drink away the bad stuff that happened to me when I was 5.  I tried to drink away not fitting in.  I tried to numb myself to the guilt and shame I always felt no matter what.   By the time I was 15, I was sleeping around.  I learned that sex can be used as a currency, a weapon, a bargaining tool, or simply one more way to numb myself.  I desperately wanted someone to love me, but deep down knew that I was trash and didn't deserve to be loved.  That's how the alcoholic mind works.

-----to be continued-----