Thursday, December 20, 2012

Bowling Alleys 'n BFFs.

I woke up with the sound of pouring rain outside which is a completely disappointing way to wake up in Michigan in December.  I would prefer it to be 10 degrees colder and all of this nonsense rain be snow.
I have also have one of those awesome tickles in my lungs.  You know when you first get sick and you have that dry yet scratchy feeling?  I have been coughing all day but nothing is coming up. Completely unproductive. My favorite. Sigh.  I bet you that I will be perfectly sick for Christmas.  Why wouldn't I be?

Around 3pm I had a knock on the door. It was the mail lady.  I was a bit confused because I haven't ordered anything due to being in the poorhouse.  It was nice sized package and it said
"To: MaryAnne & Alanna, From: Up North"
I knew just by the handwriting who it was from.

Here is the backstory:  Once upon a time in say 2001? My friend Shawn was dating this girl who everyone called "Keggy."  I never met her the entire time they dated, but I kept hearing that she was this tiny little girl who did 'keg stands' like a champ. I liked her already.
We all went bowling one night and Kristine (AKA: Keggy) showed up with a box of Shawn's things. They had broken up and she was returning his crap. I was introduced myself, commented on her super cute shoes (which were Nike Shocks with neon pink soles), and apparently we were friends for life.
After nearly 12 years, her and I still have not seen each other since that one night at the bowling alley.  We've sent cards back and forth. We take pictures of street signs when we are in each other's cities. We even take pictures of our odometers when they read cool combinations of numbers.  This is our friendship which is better than a lot of friendships I have with people I actually do see.  She is one of my favorite people on the planet - today has completely confirmed it.

She read my blog, had no idea I had lost my job, and sent me Christmas care package.  I cried. Wait, I am still crying.  I can't help it... I am a sap.  She is a wonderful, amazing person and I am so lucky to have a friend like her.  My gift was a Scentsy care package.  I suggest if you have never heard of Scentsy or don't own one, to get a freaking order in.     Kristine's Scentsy Page
It is the most amazing thing EVER.  I am a customer of hers til the end of time. Which is tonight at midnight according to the Mayans. ;)

If she is reading this, which I hope she is, I hope she knows how much her friendship means to me. Even if it is virtual.  Pictures, cards, emails, text... I love her.
One day we are going to meet up and go bowling with the kids. Back to where it all began, make no mistake about that.

Tuesday, December 18, 2012

Someone call the Wambulance

It was an exceptionally weird day today.  The alarm was being snoozed to death. Finally I texted Alanna with an "Up, up, up little one."  She said "You too missy!"  Sigh. My little snot.

I crawled out of bed and straight into the arms of the love of my life which would be my coffee maker, then opened up my laptop.  As it rang to life I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. I wandered into Alanna's room making sure she was really out of bed this time and helped her pick out an outfit.  I went back to the computer, when I saw a friend posted a YouTube video on my wall.  I clicked it without reading anything other than "The Voice - Hallelujah."  Jeff Buckley did a version of this song that is my absolute favorite.  Alex Wong and Allison Holker danced to this a few season ago on So You Think You Can Dance. It has just left an impression on me. I get misty eyed and sing along like I sang it originally. This was different.  It was a tribute to the kids at Sandy Hook.  I lost it.  Big time.  I cried like a baby and then texted said friend to tell her I was mad at her for not warning me.  I guess I could have read the caption.

Alanna stumbled out of her bedroom and was confused as to why I was hyperventilating over a song.  I couldn't explain it, even though she knows all about the S.H.E.S. tragedy.  What a way to start the day. With a big fat sob session.  If this was the outlook for the day it was pretty effing accurate.  I think I cried 24 different times.  This is not an exaggeration... not one bit.

Shortly after I had to drive a half hour to pick up a prize I won through my college.  They selected me at random to win a $100 gift card -which is stinking awesome!  When I got to the office, I started telling the ladies my life story, like they cared, and cried some more. I mean, really?  They even had to snap my photo for part of the promotion and here I am all red faced, splotchy, and snotty.  Aka: HOT!

I spent the rest of the day painting my signs and catching up on episodes of The Voice and Ben & Kate (Tomorrow is Revenge and How I Met Your Mother).  It's been a non-emotional night let me just tell you.  I  think my tear ducts haven't quite replenished themselves yet.  Well they better by tomorrow.  My daughter's school is sponsoring me for Christmas and the staff bought her Christmas presents. I have to pick them up in the morning. I am pretty sure I will bawl my eyes out again.  And maybe even again.

So to all that I say this:
1) Screw being a girl
2) Screw being off of anti-depressants that kept my tears at bay all these years and
3) SCREW CRYING, DAMMIT!

Monday, December 17, 2012

Twenty Sets

This morning was an especially hard morning.

As I waited at the bus stop with my girl, I kept thinking to myself how 20 specific sets of parents woke up this morning and didn't have to get their baby ready for school. How a lot of parents all over the world didn't have to do that because they lost their child to cancer, a car accident, or in another way.  

At 10, my daughter still isn't ashamed to be seen with me in public and I am happy for that because this world has changed so much in the last 30 years of my life.  People don't express their love the same. People treat their kids differently.  Most people are so caught up in their own lives that they don't focus as much as they should on their kids lives. I can't say I am perfect by any means, but I know when to stop and pay attention to what my child is saying to me. I know to tell her I love her and mean it. I know to give her praise and hugs all the time. 

When the bus pulled up she said "Love you Momma!" like she does every single day and she puckered up for a kiss.  I kissed her and grabbed her in for a big hug.  I will miss my little girl today, but not even fractionally close to how the parents in Newtown, CT are missing their babies every day.  

I've been hearing a lot about mental illness in the wake of this horrific tragedy.  As someone who doesn't have all the proper chemicals in their brain, I understand.  I don't understand how you could take another's life out of hatred, but I do understand the ability to lose control.  I don't think we should be using mental illness as a scapegoat, but I do think it should be recognized a bit more.  

I have so much to say on this subject. So much to say on mental illness being misunderstood and people not having a clue about it.  I have so much to say on parenting and listening to your children. 

My daughter just called from school because she forgot to bring her gym shoes.  And when I said "Alanna, this is your responsibility to remember these things." I caught myself and thought: "Your baby needs you. Go."  I can do that for her. I can bring her gym shoes every single day. I can tell her I love her every single day.  But in Newtown, CT twenty sets of parents...cannot.

Wednesday, December 5, 2012

Death to Lucy.

My cat Lucy is terrified of everything! She is afraid of me scooting a chair across the floor. If I shut a door too hard she is under the bed for an hour, and if a man is in my house you will never see her for the rest of the day. But it's always different for "mommy."  I'm home a lot more than usual as of late and she likes to nuzzle me and tell me she loves me in her cat language of mews and guttural purrs.

Tonight was NOT an "I love you" night.  I called my brother Scott to check on some things in the weeks ahead.  He asked what was new and I told him how I'm 95% sure my wrist is fractured.  He told me to go get it looked at like a big brother should say.  I asked him what dates he is coming home from Christmas. BAM!  Out of nowhere Lucy decides to frantically run up and across my ankle, shin, knee, & inner thigh.  I yell out in pain, not sure what to say or what to do after that so I mutter a "hold on" into the phone as I set it down and start saying "Owww, owww, owww, owwww." repeatedly like it is going to hurt less if I keep saying it.  Meanwhile I bust my pants off and my leg is gushing with blood. From multiple places!!  WTF?!

Boo. Hiss.
I picked the phone back up but I am crying at this point. Okay, maybe sobbing in pain. My brother has no idea what just happened and why he hears me crying and screaming in the background. I could have been bludgeoned for all he knows.  I can hardly speak.
"The cat....just clawed... my leg off."
"What happened?"
"Lucy just.... hightailed.....  across my leg.... and I think we need to amputate.
"I'll let you go. Go clean that out. You don't want to get cat scratch fever."
Nooooo. Not Ted Nugent references.  Sigh.

 Needless to say, I called my brother back and apologized for being such an uber-sissy over the phone. He suggested de-clawing the cat. I suggested to euthanize her. It is cheaper.

Wednesday, November 28, 2012

First Place Baby

Today I am babysitting my niece, Avery, and while I don't have time to even be writing this, I am.  She is sitting next to make talking like a maniac, flinging Ramen noodles at Bea, while chomping on a green pepper.  She is quite possibly the stinking cutest thing I have ever seen.

Ave, the cheese & Bea, the scavenger. 
Oddly enough, this is the first time EVER that I have had Ramen.  Yep, 30 years old and never touched the stuff.  It isn't for me.  The "essence of powered chicken" packet absolutely disturbs me.  The noodles are inhumanly too long and I am not sure whether I am supposed to drain the water or if it was supposed to absorb and I did it wrong.  I'm over it. Sorry Avery, I am not making that weird crap again.

Bea has eaten better today than any other day in her life.  She sits at the foot of the highchair waiting for a morsel to drop or for Ave's hand to become within reach of her mouth.  It's actually quite amusing to watch her tease Bea. She will wiggle her hand over the edge then withdrawl it at the last second and stuff the fistful of peppers, turkey, ramen, cucumbers, whatever, into her own mouth.

It is strange to me to see someone so small walking, communicating, being a little stink pot.  I did this once before with my own child, but she is 10 now and I have long since forgotten all these little things.  Like saying "meow" to a kitty 3,491 times in a half hour. Or saying "uh oh" when she pulls the ornaments off my Christmas tree.  Even giggling uncontrollably as the dog decides she is better than a washcloth and cleans Ave's face with her tongue.  She is the sweetest little bean.  I remember my own being this sweet and I don't at the same time.  I know she was. I know she was a very happy baby who spoke well and got into little mischief, but since Alanna is no longer small, Ave get's first place in the best baby category.



Saturday, November 10, 2012

The Cosby Kids

Day 5. One incredible day.  I had highs, and lows, and moments where I was doubled over, dying laughing, & not breathing while my abs were screaming at me because they needed oxygen.

I woke up to Alanna wiggling both Home Alone and Home Alone 2: Lost in New York under my nose.

"Ohhh Mommmm... Look what I have...."
Ugh. What is it?! Ooooooo! Home Alone. I'm up! I'm up!
"Well that's one way to get me out of bed, isn't it?"
"I know your weaknesses."
Who is this kid?  Pinning me between laying in my warm bed and watching Home Alone?  HOW WONDERFUL!
Uh, Mom? What is that?

She points to my sheets and I drowsily roll over and then shudder and scoot out of bed with a squeal.
What the %^&* is it?!
Laying amidst my sheets, probably touching me all damn night was a brown nugget of wonder.  And two little nugget remnants.  WTF?  I don't know what it is.

Instantly the following dialog happened:
"Mom, did you push a fart out too hard?"
"Did Bea drop off the Cosby kids IN MY BED?"
"We slept with a creepy poo nugget? Really?"
"Wait, wait...."
Alanna made certain not to touch it.
I had to get down close.  A) Because I am a mother and we have to smell foreign objects to figure out what they are.  Even when it's poo.  B) Because I wasn't exactly convinced someone crapped in my bed.
And it wasn't crap after all. It was an apple core... and the apple butt... and a seed. What the mother scratching eff was it doing in my bed? I am still not sure, but I know that I am disturbed and slightly scarred from this event.  What a successful morning.

We watched Home Alone (not the sequel) in our jammies away from the poo bed.

Tonight was nothing short of the same as this morning.  We cried with laughter 36 different times.

"Mom, decide between The Grinch, Elf, and The Santa Clause."
The third one is definitely out.  And while I love me some Will Ferrell.. a lot... I decided on my second favorite Christmastime movie.
"Go Grinchy or go home."
"Somebody's FAAAAAABULOUS!"

What a damn perfect day. No agenda, one poo in my bed, and my bird spoiling me with two Christmas movies.  I've created a monster.... my favorite monster EVER!

Thursday, November 8, 2012

Me, myself, and my equilibrium

Day 3 has gone off with out a hitch.

It's a whopping 45 degrees out and the sun is shining!  It decided to peak through the window onto the living room floor earlier, so I decided to lay in the sliver of light soaking in the Vitamin D. Of course, Lincoln, my fuzzy little black cat, followed suit and laid with me. I love when black cats lay in the sun and are instantly brown.  Like it's an optical illusion or something.  Oh, you're not really a black cat? Way to trick me with your hair color tomfoolery.


Bob Dylan, My Sick Boy with the pretty eyes
I have three black cats by the way.  Lincoln lives at my parents house while Bob Dylan and Lucy live with me. Dylan has been incredibly sick lately. He has these crunchy, disgusting, sores all over his neck and head. He also likes to puke whatever he puts in his system. When I took him to the vet she told me to change his food and be on my way.  I paid you $100 to tell me to change his food to prescription vet food that I can't afford?  Hmmm... sounds kind of like a BIGFATGIGANTIC scam to me.

Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds -
 Do you see those damn claws in my thigh?



Lucy, however, annoys the ever living daylights out of me.  She is the kind of cat that not only talks to you all the time, but she also rubs her butt on you whenever possible. Especially when you are going to the bathroom.  As soon as she hears me walk in there it is like "What? Mom's going pee?  I am soooo getting a butt rub!"  And if you give her affection, the talking increases.  Muffled, purring, cries of kittiness.  I also pick her nose.  Yup, I said it.  I pick her nose.  For some reason every fuzzy piece of dust on the planet lodges itself directly into her nostrils. So I help a girl out and take care of her business for her.  I know she is grateful in her own kitty way. Maybe that is why she rubs her butt all over me.
Sometimes I wonder what she would be like as a human? Would she still have this ass-fetish?  Awkward.


The phone just rang and it was Alanna's school calling:
"Hi, we have Alanna here wanting to speak to you. Would you like to talk to her?"
No. No I wouldn't. Really? You have to ask?  
"Yes, of course."
"Hi, Mom?"
"Hey birdy, what's going on?"
"Yeah so my asthma is really bugging me. It hurts super bad in my solar plexus."
What ten year old talks like this, honestly? 
"Honey, I'm sorry you're feeling bad, but it's not something to come home over. Go back to class and we will discuss it when you get home okay?"
"Okay Mom. Love your face. Bye!"
This warrants a phone call? And who complains about their solar plexus?  WTH?! My daughter is so strange sometimes and I have absolutely no idea where she would ever get it from.

Time for a nap I think. I could go rake my 8 billion leaves, but my bed sounds so much better. Especially when I feel like I am just going to fall over.  Oooo, I could fall over in the leaves....

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

Day Two: A Day of Nausea

Over the course of the last month, I have gone through some incredible life changes and there is nothing else for me to do than to document every moment of it.

Here is a slight recap of those extraordinary (and when I say extraordinary I really mean shitty as all hell) events:

October 13, 2012 - I quit smoking (again) the day before I turned the big 3-0!
October 14, 2012 - I turned 30. Enough said.
October 27, 2012 - Fired from my job of 8 years by my Adolph Hitler of a Store Manager.  Oh and not alone, with 4 of my coworkers because one customer apparently complained to corporate.  Really?!
November 6, 2012 - Election Day - I stopped my anti-depressants, though picked up my new bottle of Xanex from the pharmacy, just in case. 


(Even Beatrice does tricks for Xanex...)

Which leads me to today.  

Not only do I have absolutely nothing to do other than to rake the 8 billion (times infinity) leaves that have fallen on my property, but all I want to do is step outside and light up an disgusting tasting cancer stick and puff my life's troubles away.  Who would have known that I would quit 14 days before I needed them the most.  *sigh*

Day 2 of being off my meds is always the hardest day for me.  I always want to just run to the cupboard and pop a pill in my mouth and make this shaky, vertigo-esque feeling go away. And the crying is off the charts.  I thought about unemployment today in the shower and began weeping.  I mean, it is pretty depressing.  I have experienced "Day Two" so many times by accident.  Forgetting to take my meds for a day gives me a full blown Day Two.  I would usually curb that by taking a pill and a two or three hour nap and waking to find that I am having no more side effects.  Ugh...not today.  I am going to be feeling like this for a hot minute.  

These sweatpants are not leaving my body today. Neither is this ungodly comfortable hoodie.  Is it a day to lay in bed and be a complete sloth on humanity? I am going to say yes to this.