2017

Let's be blunt, shall we? 2016 has sucked donkey dick. Crass? Sure, but that's what this year has been. Everyone I voted for this year - lost. Some of my favorite celebrities - dead. Mono was defeated, but I got copacetic again as a result. Oh and what's that? Yeah, my basement flooded majorly - twice - and while it's been fixed, we're on the market again as a result of PTSD and wanting good juju versus the crap we've had in this place. Just what I (we) wanted to do again - possibly move.

Deep cleansing breath.

So... how do I make 2017 better? Screw focusing on stupid shit like losing weight or making myself hot. I just want to actually give a damn about myself. For me. Why? Because I'm a better person (mother, wife, daughter, friend, etc.) when I take care of myself but I honestly can't remember the last time I truly did that, 100%.

Yes, obviously, I'm not running away from my responsibilities. I'm still married (9 years in two days - damn) and a mother to a (mostly) awesome, amazing (BTW, my bullet journal proves I use these words way too much) two year old little boy - and I have a great job with a boss who constantly reminds me of how much I actually do since it's easy to forget because of how much I do in a short amount of time. 

I don't want to quit being me. Far from it. I just want to be the best me possible.

I know I'm much better off mentally, physically, emotionally, etc., when I run and do yoga on a more frequent basis. It grounds me. It's a challenge. And it helps me be at a weight I'm more comfortable with.

I'm 31, not 70, so I should be okay with feeling hot. Regardless of whether my definition of hot aligns with anyone else's. Yes, I like skinny jeans, tall boots, and shirts that are long enough to cover up my freakishly long torso. Sue me. That just shows that I have a "look," I just need to accept this fact and tailor my wardrobe around it versus trying to fight it and look like a mom or a wife or whatever should. 

I'm Lindsey: a sarcastic, agnostic, upper middle-class, slightly lazy, working wife and mom. I'm not going to suddenly turn into something else, regardless of how much I may wish too (upper class working mom/wife with a flexible job, friends and expendable income/time to do Pure Barre or yoga at a studio when and where I want comes to mind). I have to accept what I have available, channel my inner Tim Gunn and "make it work." 

So, yeah. In 2017, that's what I hope to make possible. Accept the fact that I know what makes me the best me (denial or not), resist the temptation to revert to lazy habits and just make it happen. For my entire family's sake. 

I have four days to wrap my head around this and figure out a potential plan of attack. Let's do this!

The second mile

When I run lately I tend to average 3 miles (give or take depending on route and mental fortitude). The first mile is always super easy, after all I'm just getting started so I feel really good as a result. The third mile is okay; normally by that time I'm ready for it to be over with so I start picking up the pace again. That second mile, though, is always the hardest. I start hurting or losing a bit of steam, so that's when I tend to have imaginary conversations or think my deepest thoughts of the run. Anything to distract myself, ya know?

On today's run, in order to distract myself from the very real possibility of being covered in oak mites, I couldn't help but consider what makes us like a person or not. For most of my life I've been told that people had the tendency to dislike me when they first met me. I came across as bitchy or cold. Things like that. It was only after they got to know me that they realized I was funny - or whatever their particular descriptor is - and while bitchy at times, not a bitch.

What happens when we don't give people that chance though, and we automatically write them off forever as someone on our "avoid at all costs" list? It's entirely possible that they're truly a great person, and we're missing out by not interacting with them. (What? I'm trying to be positive!) Or even if they aren't, we still might be able to find some sort of common ground. Connection, people, connection. It makes us more likely to remember that everyone's a human with feelings.

Sadly, even at 31 there are some people whom if I saw I would hide behind the nearest item and pretend like they don't exist. Not nearly as many as there once were (Mom perpetually gave me a hard time for acting as though someone was invisible if I happened to see them at the mall as a teenager), but still. I'm not proud to admit this. At all. But that's part of growing up, you acknowledge your flaws and try to reduce them in your kid(s).

So as a personal challenge, I'm going to try to be more open-minded when I first interact with people (or at least act friendlier so I don't seem as bitchy). You're welcome to give it a shot, too. It could be especially helpful until this horrible election cycle is over.

One more week.

Sigh.

Green-eyed beast

Let's start with another Roosevelt quote, shall we?

Comparison is the thief of joy.

-Theodore Roosevelt

 

Throughout my entire life, I have compared myself to others. In both areas that matter and those that don't. This has resulted in me being a bit... petty... when it comes to observing others' lives. Social media has definitely not helped this issue get any better. 

Rather than being happy for someone for the (admittedly limited view) of the things they have going on in their lives, I sometimes can't help but feel bitter as to why they seem to have certain things go their way and I don't. 

Real talk. Social media is fake. It's a forced perspective. I get this better than most since I work with social media on the daily (I'm even dreaming about it a lot lately - yuck!). And yet, I still fall victim to it. 

Why does Megan always seem to have it so easy?
Jackie's so pretty and she's had four kids. How does she look so good?
Gah, Cassie's so crafty. I have like zero abilities now.
Man, Ashley's living the dream. Dancing and yoga, all day, every day. 
Ellen gets to have the adventure of a lifetime with all her European adventures! Why did I only move to Florida as my escape from KC?

I need to make it stop.

No, I'm not going to remove myself from everything and go the Luddite way. Again, I kind of work with social on the daily, so that wouldn't fly. Instead, I'm just going to constantly remind myself of Roosevelt's words.

Comparison is the thief of joy.

As I wrote in my bullet journal last night (BTW - can I say how much I love that thing? Definitely not the fancy-schmancy type, but it's so much fun!), "Quit comparing yourself to others, you're on your own journey!" And it's true.

These girls and I may have had similar journeys at one point in time, or at least had our paths cross, but we've all gone down our own trails since then. I need to appreciate their journey and realize that while it may seem smoother than mine, that that's not necessarily the case. I'm only seeing a fraction of their lives - the same way they're only seeing a fraction of mine. And that's okay. 

I'm not them. They're not me. We all have our own journeys to take.  And who knows, there may be someone out there who looks at my life with a bit of envy. Stranger things have happened. 

My son, the headbanger

Toddlers. Little people with a lot of emotions and opinions, but who lack the proper vocabulary with which to express themselves. As a result, they lash out. It would seem their tantrum styles are as varied as they are.

• One of my nieces kicks. Especially if she's being held. That tends to wind in disaster, especially if her father or one of her uncles is holding her. 
• I've seen other kids at day care launch anything they can get their hands on across the room.
• Biters may possibly be the worst. Though they be but little, their teeth are sharp and their jaws are powerful.

C tends to channel an 80s hairband god and bang his head. This sometimes means falling backwards on the floor (most of which is carpet in our house). In the car (or high chair) he likes bonking his head backwards against the headrest. This weekend's tantrum though, took the cake.

He tried to Judo chop the side rail of his crib with his forehead.

But instead of successfully pulling off his new "Daniel-son" move (if you don't get this reference, you're too young), he realized that head + wood + force = pain.

Maybe this is one of his first physics lessons. Probably not.

After ensuring he was okay, no visible lump or bruising, the first words out of my mouth were, "Now what did we learn?"

I wonder how Ricky mastered ventriloquism so quickly. 

Sadly, I doubt this lesson will sink in. At least not yet. Someday though. In the meantime, maybe we should invest in some helmets.

A friend in need...

Ricky said something the other day that made me think:

"It seems like we, both of us, only have friends in our life while we're of use to them. Once they no longer need us, they're out."

After thinking about it a bit, that does seem kind of true - for the most part.

We do have a couple of friends who have been in it for the long haul (ironically, most of whom currently live in London - and who have invited us to recent events in KC but we've had to say "no" to the sanctioned things. Doesn't mean we can't hang out still while you're home, we're just out for Memorial Day weekend!!), but for the most part our past friends have only been so when convenient for them.

That's not to say that they did it intentionally, at least I hope not, but there have been a number of times when I've continued to try to make the effort only to be ignored.

I wonder what it is about us that leads to this...

Should I take this more personally?

It feels like a normal person probably would. But for some reason it doesn't really bother me that much. I enjoyed my time with them while it lasted, but I guess we're just at different places in our lives now. It doesn't make me miss them any less, or feel any less lonely at times, but yeah...

It just kind of is what it is.

I hate that saying. But it's true.

I guess this is an instance when being an extroverted introvert by nature comes in handy. I'm okay with "being alone." I get my social needs out of the way at work and then can go home, decompress and hang out with my favorites.

Still, I kind of miss my friends.

Sometimes.

I wonder if they ever miss me.

A puzzlement

To have another kid, or not. That is the question.

With C being 19 months old, Ricky and I are starting to toss around the idea of having a second kid. If we did, we wouldn't want them to be too far apart in age. That combined with both of us being 30+ now, if we're going to go that route it needs to be sooner rather than later lest we wind up being old parents.

Not that there's anything wrong with that, but we're already going to be in our upper 40s when C graduates high school. Would prefer not to push that into our 50s if we can avoid it.

We're both pretty torn. We would love to have another little bit in the house, but daycare is expensive. We're comfortable, but not as much so as we would like.

Then I have my own personal concerns. C is wonderful, but my experience bringing him into the world wasn't. I had late developing ICP and pre-e. My labor was moving incredibly fast (at first) until my blood pressure got so high that I was on the verge of stroking out. They had to bring it to a halt and then start it up again with pitocin. That combined with a missed epidural (twice) led to a spinal headache which made the first week of C's life the most miserable I've ever felt.

Birth PTSD? I may have it. Maybe.

Maybe I'm just being selfish.

Maybe.

I had similar anxiety before I got pregnant last time, until we just decided to rip the band-aid off and see what happens. I get the feeling it may come down to that sort of decision again this time.

I just wish I was more confident in what was right.

Indecisiveness sucks.

Broadmoor

I now work in an office with easy access to windows and an electric convertible desk. What witchcraft is this?

I love my new office space. I love my company. I think this is the happiest I've ever been in my professional life.

End of story.

(And knocking on all the wood possible so as to not jinx anything!)