You know what I want to do today, my friends? I want to apologize. I want to apologize for sitting a tiny bit to my side that made you feel like I was turning away from you. I want to apologize for continually moving around, which gave you the impression that I wasn’t interested in what we were talking about. I also want to apologize for not maintaining eye contact for too long. There are so many other little quirks that I could go on apologizing for. Such as, me always playing with my hands. I know it’s annoying to watch, probably, most definitely. I know it is. I will probably never sit next to you on the floor. I will find a seat close by and lean over to talk to you. This will seem rude and will be uncomfortable. However, that’s just how hanging out with me will go.
I can’t keep looking in one direction for too long; I start to get anxious. The kind of anxious they write in textbooks about.
I will make plans or accept your invitation then cancel on you the day of without any notice. Even though you might have seen me somewhere the day before and probably looked fine. My excuse that I am too sick even to walk will probably sound just like an excuse. Hard to believe. It’s not.
Nevertheless, I use it so much that even I try to come up with other random things to say when canceling plans because I’m sick. I wouldn’t believe anyone else. Why should you have to. I am sorry for putting you in that spot; I am sorry for being the one you always bail.
And the shifting side to side is a neat story; I have sciatica in a few different discs in my spine. It’s a real son of a bitch. I might really want to keep the conversation going with you, but my back might just be tired of that posture I’m making and decide I need a new one. That might offend you, I get it, but there’s no other way. I have two options; I can tell you my sob story, or I change positions to relieve the pain and then start up a convo again in a few minutes so you know I wasn’t trying to ignore you when I turned away and hope for the best. Normally I don’t share my life with people unless it’s in writing. Why I do it here? That’s because I’m not the only one impacted by the little things happening around us every day.
Who knows who else might read this out there and think hey, me too. Or think yeah, I know someone like that. They’re a real pain in the ass, real party poopers. Maybe I should call and check up on them.
I know what everyone reading this is thinking, or at least some of you. Get some meds in you and stop whining. Stop whining? I have a legitimate reason to whine and I stop? So not going to happen. I am on every medicine imaginable. I’m as active as I can be with my limited joint movement and chronic pain.
That’s why I wanted to tell you that this is my medicated, exercising, healthy as can be, self. With all that said, I’m not changing and I want to apologize for that too.
No matter how much I write about it or talk about, in the end everything comes down to just one problem: if we cant see it, it must not exist. Since I don’t look sick I must be either exaggerating or straight out lying.
Well, I apologize for you not having enough faith in me to believe that I wouldn’t lie or exaggerate about such a condition. If you ever said you were in pain, physical, mental or emotional I would believe you.
Turns out this isn’t really an apology after all.
Listen kid; I love you. You are me, reincarnate. Nobody else could have made me feel this incompetent and challenge my every sense to this extent. Nobody. Nobody could love me this much either. This wholly and unconditionally. You make me hurt to the point that I cannot comprehend it myself sometimes. I’m on my knees. Literally on my knees. You’ve lost something under the sofa or the bed or some other place, apparently I’m the only one whose around that can do the bending, sitting, standing, or whatever seems to be the most painful task of the moment. Most of the times, I got you covered kid. Sometimes though, geez, hit the pause button, would ya?
Like I said, I love you more than existence itself, but you’re not very like-able all the damn time. For example, right now. What is the need to jump on your brother’s side of the bed while brushing your teeth? WHAT? Just WHAT? I don’t like it. He’s screaming to tell you that he will not sleep on his bed after you have sprinkled your teeth goo on it, and I’m screaming for you to get off the bed, and you’re just jumping away. So, I ask the question; which I have asked in our many conversations during evaluations of situations like these, “when you are getting so much positive attention, why look for negative attention?” I’m here, I’m talking to you, I’m spending time with you. So why turn it into me raising my voice or speaking in a negative tone? It’s better when we are ALL having fun. Isn’t it?”
We’re cut from the same cloth, you and I. I do get it. I am your mother, however. I also need you to stop it right this second and go brush your teeth in front of the sink, or your black-panther superhero doll disappears. Ah! That’s better.
Sometimes love and understanding is not enough.
My solace in all this, you can take care of yourself and then some. The world is not patient. The world will teach tough lessons. The toughest, harshest situation you have to deal with right now is me telling you playtime is over. The worst evil deed under your belt is breaking your brother’s lego plane, which he took hours making, and maybe throwing stuff at his too. Kid, the world will teach you some real evil tricks so I like that you can hold your own. I like that you can break shit when you’re angry. I also like that you can count to ten and then come ask for a hug when you know you need to calm down. I know I need to teach you the balance. I know we are far from it right now. We have to look into doing that without killing that spirit that makes you want to take out every single plate and bowl in the house and kiss it just because you’re in the mood.
Kissing stuff randomly is fun. Wouldn’t want that to be a thing you stop doing, even if that means every single dish has to be washed.
You know why I started writing this; it was because you told me that you wanted to lie down next to me. I asked you if you were done. Time to play so that I could get back to work. You responded with “I am your most important work, ill pay you in hugs and kisses.” I know it sounds adorable when you hear it, but when a child won’t leave your room and you have deadlines, not so much. You want me to yourself. Im realizing we need boundaries. Im realizing you need to understand that I’m always here for you but you need to start seeing me as an individual. I think that’s why sometimes I don’t like you. You are inching into my existence. You want to take over my life. That’s not your fault however, at some point in your life I gave you the message that that was how it was supposed to be. No more mister. There is a whole world for you with me in it. I shouldn’t be your whole world though.
Where do we start? Let’s see, let’s start with my whole life being about watching the two of you sleep while I rush to finish this because the list of very important work I need to do in the morning is not more important than the cuddles you’re going to ask for super super early in the morning.
No. Let’s start with you bringing me down to my knees for your useless tasks. Yes, I think that’s a better place. I’ll take the cuddles for a little while longer.
Hi folks, so I have about an hour left in this year, this decade of ours. By the time I get around to posting this, it will be a brand new decade. We will all have new faces, flying cars, and all those other fun things that always come with the new year.
My day started typically, as usually, kids came downstairs for their morning cuddles, the only thing I can handle before my coffee.
Then the afternoon was just utter chaos, even more than usual. My husband goes off to where ever he goes 2 to 3 times a month, and every time he packs, he rushes like he’s never been on a trip before. The whole house has to be on a standstill. We all, especially me, have to stop all other activities and pay full attention to his packing and his needs. So much for being a strong, independent male who can take care of himself, right? So, my biggest accomplishment today was putting that husband of mine on that plane. Well, he didn’t come back, so I’m hoping he’s on the plane. The second significant accomplishment of the day; getting the kids to bed before someone seriously got hurt. My feelings don’t count.
Finally, after finishing all the other work and jobs that can only be done after everyone goes to bed, I’m here sitting pouring out my thoughts while I wait for my pizza. I just realized I didn’t have dinner. I plain forgot. Now, I’m too tired and cold to get out of bed to make something or even warm something up. So pizza delivery it is. Being a mother plus wife who works is hard, but it has its little pleasures like when you allow yourself the hot pizza with the side of wings because you know you’re justified in not wanting to get out of bed. Always look at the bright side. Isn’t that what people say when they are trying to be positive about the future? This new year I will be more positive about life.
All in all, it was a normal day, which is about to get better with pizza. However, it seems it was not so normal. This is the cap on my 4th decade. You would think I would have learned a thing or two. You would think I would be making resolutions left and right.
You would think I would be thinking more of this.
Here we are, though. It’s night. Tomorrow it will be daylight, Another of many.
There will be no magic in the sky. My kids will come and get a cuddle and go for breakfast. Our day will go on. I might make gummy slime with them, so that’s something we didn’t do today. If we end up doing that, you will hear about it.
Where is the lesson? Here it is. We will not wake up to anything largely different. We will not wake up to a shinier sky. We will wake up to exactly who we are right now. The lesson is not in making promises and continuously looking ahead. I believe the lesson is in the now. Lesson is staying focused.
I’m not against making resolutions or changes in life because, of course, we have to keep bettering ourselves, and we do change whether we want to or like to or not. But timeline means nothing. I will evolve I need to, and I should wish to, however this decade, the past one, none of it means anything. I still feel like it’s the 90s because I rock to Pearl Jam on the regular. Judge me if you must, but does that mean it’s 20 years ago or…when even was “the 90s”?
I’m me. Growing, every day. Changing into different people, achieving strengths and goals that I never thought possible.
Nothing was sudden, though. A date on the calendar decided by someone else shouldn’t mean anything. You can decide on your date. First, determine who you are right now is terrific.
Because do you remember 5 years ago? Oh my GOD, that was a mess, right? And then that strange situation happened. Maybe 6 months earlier. You never thought you’d be here. You were strong, so brave. All of that in you and you underestimate yourself like you need to morph into something else completely to be better. You are ”better.” Believe that before, hold onto what it is.
The change, the promises will come, not this year, not this decade, not now but over your life because that’s what life is about. Life is about growth, subtle decisions.
So if you wake up tomorrow and your face looks the same and all those little flaws you’ve been keeping a tab on to fix next year are still there, and the sky is not golden, and there are no shooting stars or flying cars then count your blessings and be patient.
The one thing I have learned in my decades on this planet and that I’m positively sure of is that we will surely miss it when it is gone. Whatever it is, we will want it back. Cherish it.
Okay, so my life just took a shitty turn guys. You get to a point where you think you’ve lived through the drama, and that stuff doesn’t bother you. You tell it to bugger off. At this point in my life, I thought my job was to help other people with my drama-filled experienced. Here I am, though, completed kicked in the knees by my past and present. I’m sitting here thinking, “I have done this. I HAVE DONE THIS SO DAMN MANY TIMES.” This should not rattle me. This is new, though. In some weird, unknown way, this is new. This repeats on me, why? How? I’d like to think through no fault of my own, but it repeats continuously. Today, right now, it has a tanginess, and I cannot explain.
Today, this day. I never thought I would have to deal with this. I should have thought better. Known better. I don’t understand why this is even important. I am one of those people who take things. I don’t go around being emotional and illogical about issues. I think, and then I decide what my move will be. Today, I thought and then I decided I just don’t want to deal.
My entire life has been dealing with something like this. Y’all know what I’m talking about? I know you’ve been there.
When people won’t cut you a break, and you know they know they should. Yeah, that. I’m worn out by the drama that’s always been here and I’ve always been prepared for it.
I think its because I am not ready to hold my tongue, or my fists for that matter. Been doing that for far too long. Feels good to admit that.
Violence is bad kids.
Sidenote: a long time someone in Turkey gave me a crown made of roses and I pretended to be a princess for the rest of the day.
Thank you for listening to my nonsense.
My happy is not your happy. My shining sun is your rain pouring and cloudy skies all around. Doesn’t matter how much we like each other, or how well we get along. People are just different. You’ve heard that before haven’t you? You’ve felt that about people you are the closest to, you’ve felt the exact same feeling from the person you can’t stand. However, HOWEVER, you have chosen to think, “he or she I love so I’ll try to make it work. Same faults on another, unacceptable. “How dare you madame, insult me by disliking sunshine. It is a blessing from our lord and savior. I can never be in your company ever again”. Have you not yourself tried dancing in the rain for someone you love just to understand them? Not to turn away from the sunshine forever, but just so that person stays in your life? I know you have. That is the sign of a strong person. A brave person. Do that for those you don’t love. Do that for yourself sometime.
Would you ever let yourself? Forgive yourself? We do that. Make mistakes. Humans, all of us. Good or bad. Just people, flesh and blood. Moments’ decisions based on emotions. Not based on you or me, based only on personal needs and usually moments’ pleasures. Mistakes. Almost never about you or me. Then again sometimes it is about you or me.
I lost my tangent, we were talking about forgiving ourselves. Could you please?
I haven’t. How could have I done this? I could have lived better. Tried harder. People say, “but why didn’t you, why did you let them..” I can’t answer those questions so I wonder myself, how I could let this happen? What a miserable human being I have turned out to be. Right, so that’s the drama queen in me talking but sometimes those emotions are real too. I made myself miserable, and now what? I could blame the whole world but I had a choice, I had the option to walk away from all of it. I didn’t. Now what?
There’s the big question; now what? Could you forgive? Could you at least try? Would you even want to? That would make things harder, in a manner. That would make you even more accountable. Separate fiction from fact. You’d have to know exactly what you did to yourself. You’d have to own up before forgiving. You would also have to realize that most of it was done TO YOU. Most of it was not in your control. You would realize that fear is literally paralyzing. You would find out that when a loved ones’ life or emotions are on the line you give up. You quietly, willingly walk away from what you have longed for because hurting them sounds way worse. You might blame yourself later but at that moment, that’s the right move. Forgive yourself for caring. Forgive yourself for being scared. Forgive yourself for your humanity. Forgive yourself for wanting to know what peace looks like. In a slight moment, we make decisions because we want the voices in our heads to go away. Some scream it, some find quieter ways. Some of us find our guiding light late. We all find it eventually. Nobody is left alone.
It all starts with forgiveness, whether it’s HIS or your own. Start with FORGIVENESS!
I have been wanting to talk about this issue for a while now. Where to start? I know. There’s memes/ Gifs of Chris Evans and other “real-life superheroes” who have been helping damsels in distress at award shows tripping on their heels and beautiful gowns.
Okay, what is this article even about? Well they’re being praised for doing it right, oh and by the way I’m reclaiming the phrase “damsel in distress” a damsel can be in distress and she can un-distress herself. Anyways, the men are being praised for offering help in a nonthreatening manner. Such as offering their arm or shoulder instead of their hand. Or bending slightly and making their body language soft so it is not overwhelming, and threatening for women when they’re already trying to gather their dress and other accessories. Let’s face it, we got a lot more shit to gather when we get ready for functions. That’s one of the perks of being a woman. The downfall is tripping. That’s okay, life is a trade-off.
This is exactly what a lot of us have felt all our lives. I felt it was time to talk about it. This is for every timid girl out there whoever refused a handshake, a helping hand, a shoulder when needed. We don’t do it because we like tripping on our faces. Growing up in the 90s it wasn’t cool to say no, especially as a hijabi. Every time any of us refused to shake a hand or said, “I got it, thanks”, we weren’t considered to be protecting ourselves. We were just seen as bitchy little foreigners, whether we were or not, was irrelevant. It was more important to NOT reject a man than to feel safe. It was a different time. It’s okay to express these emotions now. We couldn’t even say this out loud because we were just a bunch of out dated women from some far-off land who didn’t want to be touched by men.
YES. We didn’t/don’t want to be touched by strange men. I for one will take a shoulder or an arm if I am tripping, because I control how I want to be touched and when I want to let go. Do not offer me your hand, don’t know where that thing has been and don’t know where it’s going to end up; most likely it will make me uncomfortable and make me feel
unsafe. Don’t let me forget to mention that an advertising company made a dress that records how many times women get touched. Of course most touches are unsolicited because no one, man or woman, is asking to be touched hundreds of times a night by different people.
As I was saying, I choose who touches me; Now, I can verbalize this concept. When I was younger it was unthinkable, “you dress the way you do AND don’t let men come near you unless you are absolutely and completely comfortable with them in every way? Gosh! (intense eyeroll) Were you like raised in a cave and like rode on camels or something? Because obviously, you have no idea how the world works.”
Hey camels are animals too you know. They have feelings, AND rights!
This picture was taken last night at the request of my nephew. He had an urge to see my kid. Made me get out if bed to take a pic of my sleeping kid. Their dad had just returned from one of his trips. I guess I’m glad I caught the moment.
There’s some usefulness to your new dad anxiety that makes me take pics of baby in the middle of the night. Just don’t do it again! You know who you are 👀👀👀👀👀
#gotowork #letmesleep #hedoesntcuddlewithmelikethis #momproblems #momswillbemoms #momsofinstagram #momsofinsta #parentsofinstagram #mommingtoomanykids #someneedtogrowup #amotherslove #alwaysandforever #professionalscribbler #towhomitmayconcern
I could be that fragile, beautiful little princess who always, always gets saved by the handsome strapping prince. Who doesn’t want strong arms and a beautiful face focused only on them? My other option is the old has-been who may have made it in successes of the world but she has lost it completely in the love department. After all, everyone needs to be loved. No strapping strong love for her. The people hate her. She spoke her mind.
She was rude, outspoken. She did get to marry the king but she also wanted to live life on her own terms. She was a stone-cold bitch. The king couldn’t love her for all she is.
Do you know what women like that get? Nothing. Best stay in your lane little girl. Make your choice now, who would you rather be? The evil queen, who loses everything because she likes to be in charge and doesn’t think that 14, 15, 16-year-old girls’ lives should be decided by men and their kingdoms.
OR would you rather be the beautiful obedient princess who gets the beautiful castle and the handsome prince because she does as she’s told?
In my fairy tale the badass bitch wins. I’m the Queen. The Evil Queen, if that’s what I have to be.
They’re real, all of them. My kids are growing up around superheroes real and made up. ‘In the end, we’re all stories.” Yeah, that’s also a line from a similar hero show. The nerd in me is strong y’all. People argue, they say, “kids need to live in the real world. They need to know how tough it is.” Okay, I understand. That might be true. What about the kids’ mama though? Do I also have to live in the real world? Because I kind of do, every day. I need the escape. I like the thought of being saved from my every day once in a while.
As for the kids; Let me paint you a picture, or write you one, a kid younger than ten years old loves to read. She walks into her neighborhood bookstore. She can’t really afford to buy books, but she thumbs through the books because, of course, she does. One day at the back of the store she spots something magical with lots of pictures. They seem interesting, just out of curiosity she asks the shopkeeper how much they are. He tells her they are 15 rupees each (no one knew the value of comics at that time or read them, so this was the cheapest reading material in the store). That’s like not even enough cents to mention. That right there is a lifesaver. Her being able to buy something resembling a book. Maybe not appropriate for someone that young but no one paid attention those days to little things.
Anyhow, I found my way into a world that was mine. I found my heroes who would help me escape everything that was terrible around me. They would buy me books because they’re super smart. Remember I’m not even ten yet, so yeah that was one of my fantasies. Oh, how badly did I want to be Black Widow? I related to her story so much. Still, do. Don’t ask me why. I don’t know. She’s just someone I admire so very much. Don’t know if she’s a reader though.
I grew up loving these people, these heroes as if they were real. I hid them from my world as if they needed protecting. The comics went under the bed or in my secret drawers because I didn’t stay in one place for too long and I never knew what others around me would feel about it, so that world became just for me. It was easier that way and honestly so much more fun. My heroes, my saviors, always with me ready to jump in to save the day. They never failed me. Not even once. Normal people do that you know, they disappoint. Now that I’m older and it’s not that cool to be a comic fan I’m too old to be one apparently.
So, what’s wrong with keeping this world alive? What’s wrong with wanting a little taste of fantasy in life? I was never a “princess wanting to be saved by a prince” kind of girl. The world is so much more complex and so much more beautiful. A hero is what I wanted to become in real life too. Of course, no one will ever be as cool as Nat, may her soul RIP. That was my ten-year-old self coming out, full bloom. Just kidding, its the 43-year-old me trying to hide behind the ten-year-old.
Now I argue with my kids about who’s smarter; Tony Stark or Bruce Banner. Sometimes they get confused about what exactly Batman’s powers are, but who cares he’s BATMAN! We discuss how T’challa is the humblest, kindest King and how Monarchy is only okay in Wakanda. Yes, I know that’s always a very weird conversation. Also, because Black Panther is one of my kid’s favorite characters, both of them have declared the top story of the house to be their kingdom. One is the king the other is the King’s advisor. They accept their parents as the king and queen of the whole house, they also accept that all decisions have to go through us BUT they do have the right to make most decisions about the “upstairs”.
Backstory: upstairs includes both their rooms and play area. There’s also a guest room but that’s not in use every day. I am kind of strict about not making a mess with toys downstairs since they have so much space “upstairs”. I tell them whenever they want to be loud and crazy to go “upstairs”. Our bedroom is, you guessed it, DOWNSTAIRS. The upstairs is kind of is their territory.
Way off track here. Back to Bruce Banner. Uh…super heroes. I could write all day and all night about every single one of them but the point I’m trying to make is I’m hoping is clear. I have been protected by very little. And I know I’m here to protect my kids and they know that but a little extra boost of a fantasy in which they see these mighty heroes saving the day the way no one else can, what’s wrong with that? I know, unrealistic expectations. The world will knock them down plenty to give them doses of reality. I don’t see my job as always being the one to push reality on them. I need to create a balance. That means letting them have and enjoy those moments where we are completely detached from the harshness and the roughness of the world; Where we dive into the gentle arms of our loving (somewhat…completely fake) friends who will always make sure that we are okay. In a world where good always wins. When you work hard you always see positive results. You know why? Because they will wake up tomorrow and will be knocked down a peg or two by none other than, myself. They know it too. I will come down on them for not doing something I asked them to do. They will be prepared to hear whatever I’m dishing out because they will be full of counter-arguments and “I hate you”, “you’re making me miserable”. Just then I know they will seek the comfort of those heroes who would completely understand their struggles and help them calm down. They would make it all better because no one else gets them, especially not their mom.
I know this was abrupt and seems out of nowhere. These days I’m kind of needing a lot of help from my imaginary world (which is totally real). We are moving into a new house. Even though it’s a small move, just one house to another in the same area, however, it’s not something I look forward to. You’d think someone who has moved around so much would be used to it. Nope, the exact opposite actually. I’m hiding away right now, in my happy place while the kids pack away excited about their new rooms.
Here’s another good reason for Superheroes: one of my boys has found a stick while packing and is threatening to hit the other one with it. Looks like I have to pause this totally awesome real world and jump into the one where my heroes are threatening each other with sticks.
Yeah! This is pretty much all of my lives.