Well, I mentioned last week I was in a funk and now I am going on week 2 and the fog has not lifted. I wake up and think, hum, what am I doing today? Oh right, the same thing I did yesterday and the day before that and the day before that. At this point I sigh, and think I just want to sleep and sleep and sleep. Seriously, look how hideously tired I look. I know this sounds like clinical depression, or maybe just an exhausted mom. Either way does it really matter? I have to get my bootie out of bed regardless and deal with Tiara or God knows what will happen. Once I down my espresso, I can start thinking clearly about the day ahead. What do I have to look forward to today? My walk, yep that’s about it. Oh and I am making a beet salad for lunch and that is my favorite. Trinity has a field trip so she will be happy, which will give me some joy, and Lou works open to close, so that sucks and Tabitha will be at work and school so that leaves Tiara and I by ourselves all day. Fun, Fun, Fun. I guess that means I will do laundry, pick up crayons, get my hair pulled, get thrown to the ground, sweep, change diapers and make breakfast, lunch and dinner. Oh, but I forgot Grandma is coming over today so I can make a solo run to Target to return the shoes I bought in the wrong size. Seriously I sound like a pathetic whiner. I hate it but I can’t help it. Oh, I also forgot to mention my rash has elevated to a new level and I am in desperate need of a prednisone shot, but I can’t figure out when to get to the doctors. My whole body is itching and my skin looks scary, I have to get the shot before it moves to my chest and face.
I mean, I wonder on a daily basis, do most people wake up happy and excited for the day? Is that what is happening around the world or are most people feeling like me on some level? For some reason I think most people are struggling. I could be totally wrong, but it seems like it is really hard to be “happy” most of the time. The funny thing is despite all my grumbling and whining I consider myself a pretty happy person. Now I really sound wacko, but it is true. I looked up the definition of happy and it talks about feeling joy, pleasure and being well-adapted. I am well-adapted and I feel pleasure and joy in knowing that I have dedicated my life to helping my child and raising my children. It is not always fun, mostly not fun at all but it is a job and tackle it with everything I have.
I live in a town where most people try to act like everything is perfect all the time and they are always having fun. Sometimes it feels like so many of the women are always busy lunching, playing tennis, working out, planning girl’s nights out, weekends away, dinner parties, birthday parties, play dates, charity work, etc, etc. Everything is a party in Newport and everyone is always “great”. I find it fascinating because I personally believe all this go, go, go is a cover up or easier than dealing with real life. I actually love Newport and most of the woman who live here but there are those certain few who can ruin our reputation for everyone. Maybe I am jealous, but no, not really. I have no desire to spend a bunch of time gossiping, and comparing notes on what I have or don’t have or what I hope to have in the future. I already know they all have more money than me but I have a sweet husband who loves me more than imaginable and 3 great kids. What more do I need? I wonderful parents and a special extended family along with some really wonderful and true friends.
The funny thing is sometimes when I meet someone new, I really start talking and asking questions. I love to learn about people and their lives. I am actually really interested in others. But so often I meet people and start having a real conversation with them and whoa, halt, put on the brakes. They instantly pull back. Don’t get too real. Often, people don’t like to actually get to know one another around here. I think that is because if you get to know someone you will find out they are not perfect and their life is not perfect. Duh, no one is perfect, yet most people around here try and be perfect.
I guess I understand this because I used to always try and be perfect. Trying to be perfect is so exhausting and a job in and of itself. Always having to look good by wearing the perfect outfit with perfect hair, with perfect make -up on a perfectly bronzed and toned body while you smile, laugh, and act bubbly. All the while, in a state of starvation so you can fit into your size clothes. This is so not fun. I mean you may look amazing, but then what? You constantly have to worry about what is and is not in style. Honestly I try to look nice, and I don’t usually look like a hag, but I never spend more than 15 minutes getting ready. When I do, I get stressed. If I am all fixed up to go somewhere nice, I don’t want Tiara to touch me with her constantly dirty hands, wipe her snot on me, or pet the dog. I can’t even sit in my own car without a towel on the seat because all the melted crayons will ruin my outfit. Way too much stress.
Well I don’t even know how I got off on this track and I haven’t answered my own question, but I have to finish my blog for today because Tiara is upset. She just came and pulled me off my chair and threw me to ground by my hair and added another scratch to my arm, and wood burn marks to my knees. I have to hold her down to protect myself and most times she slides me across the floor so my knees get wood burns. Super lovely. So I have to go. The sad part is she is still crying and super sad and I don’t think she knows why.
So right now I am not happy. Maybe tomorrow I will be?
p.s. I came into edit this after dinner and Tiara thought it would be a good idea to strip down naked and pee on the floor. Yeah, still not happy and still have all that laundry to fold and it is already 6:00 pm !!!