Let the good times roll!

I love my son, but this week his grandparents have taken him and his cousin on a week-long vacation. Freedom!

Well, except for the dog.

Still, if you have kids then you know what I mean. I will not have to wake up to an alarm, pack a lunch for camp, leave the house unless I want to or be on any type of schedule. It won’t change what I do with my free time, really. There will just be more of it, and that is really exciting!

I am very fortunate to have the in-laws I have. They are wonderful grandparents, and they provide adventurous opportunities for my son and his cousin. They are good people for many other reasons, as well.

I look forward to hearing my son’s voice on the phone, telling me all about what a great time he is having, and seeing tons of pictures along the way. I wish them safe travels and fun times!

Not again

I cringe when:

someone interrupts me while I’m reading or writing.

there are loud noises or bright lights

I see certain names on the caller ID

horror movie trailers are on TV

too many people talk at once in the same conversation

I lay down at night and know that I will need more medicine before my brain will go to sleep

someone I’m conversing with says the same thing over and over

I walk outside and it’s 90 degrees at 8 in the morning

the same kid asks me if he can come home with us after school every single day

I realize I’ve said too much

 

 

 

Disillusionment

Today, I’m feeling disillusioned. All the things I felt happy about and content with during the last few days feel stupid and fake now, like I was just pretending to be happy. You may remember that last week I was feeling manic. I felt the symptoms coming and wrote about it briefly in I’m up too early…hypo-mania is here. Because my medicine keeps me from going off the charts, I come back down within a few days/weeks. I believe the downward spiral started yesterday, and today will probably be the worst day. Tomorrow, I could be back up on the top where life is exactly how I think it should be.

Here are a few of the things going through my mind today:

I have wasted so much time. I have a college degree and am not using it. At best, my sociology degree shows that I attended college. Other than enjoying what I learned about, it is useless unless I get a masters or PhD and teach. It sucks. I wish I’d just gone to technical school and picked up trade skills, skills which put me on a particular money-making path, something that is in demand, something that makes looking for a job very specific. Even if I decided to work again in the future, I would have to look for entry-level office or retail jobs, as that is all my sociology degree seems to qualify for. This would not be fulfilling. I hate answering phones.

I detest having a pet. I’m serious. Yes, she is adorable and sweet and cuddly, however the responsibility lies almost completely on me. I only agreed to the dog because my son soooo wanted a puppy for so long. I don’t want to get up and go for a walk first thing in the morning. Even though it’s my son’s responsibility to pick up the poop in the yard, he constantly comes back in saying he can’t find any, forcing me to have to go out and point it all out to him. He complains about having to take an evening walk, picking up poop and having to stop what he’s doing to play with the wide-awake dog that he just had to have. I wish I’d’ve just said no and dealt with him whining about wanting a dog for the rest of the time he lives in my house.

I know that some might think I have a perfect life. After all, my husband is fine with me staying at home. After I’ve spent a short time tidying up the house, doing laundry and dishes each day and having groceries bought and meals prepared, I’ve got the rest of the day to do as I please. My son goes to a day camp all summer long, so I’ve got even more time during the summer than I do during the school year. I feel ashamed that I’m not in a perfect mood every day. I feel like I have turned into a spoiled brat. I hate this about myself.

I hate having these terrible mood swings. I am confused about how I truly feel. Are the good days the way I really feel, or is it the bad? Or, maybe it’s neither. Maybe I’m incapable of actually feeling one way about anything. Maybe it’s only ever going to be “all or nothing” for me, depending on my mood.

 

Freedom to Choose

Being a parent requires me to teach the art of decision-making to a child who begins with absolutely no experience. It is difficult to hold back and let him make some of his own decisions, but I know I must. Early on, I read in some parenting book or other that it is wise to give your child only two choices. Both must be acceptable choices, but you may let your child choose between them. This was a lifesaver. As my son gets older, I have had to expand my thinking about how he should learn to make decisions.

As soon as he was old enough, we gave our son the option to play a sport of his choice during each season. This lead to finding out about other opportunities, other classes and activities in our area. When he expressed interest in something, we encouraged him to try it out. We began to get annoyed, however, when he would do something for a couple of weeks or months and then no longer want to participate. We would spend good money on all the necessary equipment and class registrations, as well as change our entire schedule to include this new activity. My husband and I went around and around about whether or not he should be “allowed” to quit. I believe there are strong arguments either way, but here’s how I’m starting to look at it:

Why should a young child be asked to commit to anything when he hasn’t yet experienced enough things to know what he truly enjoys? I want his heart to sing when he finds his “thing”. I do not want to put him in a box, forcing him to commit his childhood to something he does not enjoy. I want him to reflect on his life when he gets older and know that his father and I allowed him to make his own choices and find his own interests and hobbies. I want him to know that we encouraged him to be who he truly IS, not who we thought he should be. I want to know that when he does choose to commit to something it is because it feeds his soul. Until he finds what he’s looking for, I will allow him to try, and to quit, as many things as he chooses.

via Daily Prompt: Commit

They’re all important

This word: Paper has really got me thinking. The longer I think about it, the more types of paper I can think of. There are so many pieces of paper that are important in my life.

Birth certificate

High School Diploma

College Degree

Marriage License

Life Insurance Policy

Will

Each of these pieces of paper have their own story to tell.

There are pieces of paper that link us to our ancestors, and those that link us to future generations. There are pieces of paper that we only use in cases of emergency. There are pieces of paper which hold our child’s first handwriting. There are pieces of paper on which a picture has been developed, holding treasured memories. There are blank pieces of paper waiting in our journals to reveal how we are thinking and feeling in a particular moment. There are pieces of paper bound together which hold stories for our entertainment and facts for our education.

One of my favorite sets of paper are my husband’s adoption papers, for without them I may never have known him.

What piece of paper do you hold dear?

 

 

 

 

I want to be Velma

“…and I would have gotten away with it, too, if it wasn’t for you meddling kids.”

I loved watching Scooby Doo cartoons when I was young.  I even enjoyed watching the recent movies with my son. I think I identify most with Velma. She’s quirky, a little awkward, and she’s full of interesting facts about all kinds of things.

I wish I could be even more like her.

I wish I could actually remember all of the useful things I’ve read about, so that I could relay that knowledge in a clear, concise download of information at a time when it is most needed. Instead, I feel like I throw little tidbits of interesting information into a conversation, then I can’t back up where I’ve read it or who wrote it. It’s as if I have just magically produced this incredible information out of thin air! (I’m not that smart!) It’s incredibly frustrating and embarrassing, because I claim to be such an avid reader, yet I can’t remember where I read anything.

So, I think…

Maybe I should take notes when I read. Except…what would I do with all of those notes – where would I even keep that many notes – how would I find the notes I needed in all those notes?

Maybe I should read slower. Except…I like to read fast – I like reading so much that I want to read as many books as I can get my hands on – I might have to get up and do something in a minute, and I just want to know what the author is getting at quick!

Maybe I should review the book online when I’m done so I can go back and read the review to remember. Except…What if I say something stupid in my review – what if I totally missed the author’s point – what if this author doesn’t even really know what they’re talking about?

Like Velma, I know people who can remember so many things from so many books at just the right moment. Alas, I am not one of them.

via Daily Prompt: Meddle