I am always apologizing to SM, telling him I am sorry for being such a _________ (fill in the blank with bitch, grump, cry baby, bad mouth and on and on). This has been more frequent since the grands moved in with us. Poor man, 38 years of this up and down roller coaster I call my emotions. But it has come to a fever pitch as of late. The kids are making me nutz. I love um but nutz. SM's response is always, "babe, you're okay, you're just overwhelmed. Okay do I get to say No shit Sherlock here?
I wasn't sure there was a whelm word, so that's why I included the definition for you as well. Okay, so if we take SM at his word, which gawd knows he thinks you should, then I am over submerged, over covered, over engulfed. Sounds to me like I'm drowning...and btw, feels like it too.
In my adult brain, yeah that's a lie, I know that they are just kids, that soon they will be grown, that I am over reacting to the mess, noise, smell, lack of space, lack of privacy, lack of SM time....but ya know after working with other peoples kids for over 20 years and enduring them, having all of Shelley's friends be at our house, which I was thankful for most of the time, we got used to having things our way.
I know you have heard me bitch about this before but I am on the verge of exploding. As a matter of fact, I did just that yesterday on top of Shelley's ego.
Along with the reduction of space to breathe, think and live in, I (for those who have forgotten my main bitch of my life) don't have the use of a vehicle. My car, an orange (just because I could) Caliber. I had the dash cover embroidered with Oma's, have a back seat cover especially for the dogs, have crates fitted in the back for shopping bags to not slide and I can't drive the damn thing. I sit home 7 days a week without transport while Joe and Shelley go to work. When I
I love to cook. I don't love to fix the same boring meals over and over because the kids won't try anything new. I even have a list of things they will eat and was asked to stick to it. WTH. Ry, with all his quirks requires some structure to his life and one of those ways of control is his control of what he eats and Gerea is a picky ass. So I go against the grain and fix something different and the whining and wailing begins. Shelley makes them eat it anyway but it just wears me down.
I has taken me 7 months to put my supplies from my studio back to some semblance of order so that I can get back to what I (not just want, not just need, not just desire) must do for my sanity and well being. I am a creator, maker, crafter, designer, person with a soul that craves doing and I have been in "can't find the shit I need" prison.
And funny thing is, if I hadn't been put into this situation and had so much frustration and anger, I wouldn't have blogged and wouldn't have met each one of you precious lovelies.
So if I get the lesson....the universe speaks to me and says, see what I have brought you, closer (probably than you think you can endure) to your family, new friends to interact with and cherish and a new view of how you can manage if you have to. Blessings and blessings.
If I am drowning now it is in love and hope and I will take this OPPORTUNITY as it is presented and get on down the road.
BTW: I finished cleaning, organizing and coveting all my "stuff" as of 3 pm yesterday.....I wonder what excuse I can come up with now.