Living With The Crazies

My crew, living with the crazies. 10, 8, 7. At times I get their names mixed up during the hustle and bustle of day to day.

They drive me a little koo-koo sometimes, but I know I do the same to them. That’s living together; that’s family.

They sing and dance and laugh and tell their tales, whole fantasy worlds, realities, all their own.

Living with the crazies. Learning lessons. Loving together. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Wicked Lessons

Good lesson yesterday about adjusting, backing off, letting be, trusting.

Letting go of the immediate, the angst.

She taught me that yesterday. A lesson I hope will help us both in the future, especially as she transitions through adolescence to adulthood.

I’ll be ready to listen; I’ll be ready to hold her, support her. And that might must be enough. I’ll do more if asked, but maybe not needed.

Maybe being there will be enough.

Wicked Dad

I remember when I was a kid, sometimes we used the word “wicked” to mean “cool”, etc. I’d like to think I’m a “wicked dad” in that context….but just now, feeling pretty far from it.

Weird day, best intentions sideways, some practical tasks completed, but big picture, I’m feeling wicked in the old-fashioned sense of the word.

My eldest is balling her eyes out, somewhat on purpose it seems, sitting in the closet in a room down the hall. I’m in the kitchen, I can hear her frustrated, anguished cries from her.

Not sure what happened.

She was cross with me when I decided to park farther than she wanted me to from the store entrance earlier in the afternoon. And she gave me the silent treatment all through the store. She’s not even eleven, and I can feel myself pretty much completely befuddled at the whole circumstance.

For all my belief in myself, that I know how to communicate and can adapt to others’ tones, personalities, etc., I’ve not had much luck with women in that regard. In the aggregate. And now I fear, that shortfall is going to extend to my daughters. Hell, maybe my son too…

Not feeling of very high self-esteem as a communicator / relationship problem solver just now.

Seems like I bump along with them, all the kids, sometimes. I don’t lose my cool too much, though sometimes my tone takes on a more…firm character…but when this “cold shoulder” happens…well, I just don’t have an answer.

Except wait. Be patient. Don’t lose the cool. Stay calm. It’s pretty hard, though. Really f*cking hard, actually. My nature is to be really strongly pulled into other people’s emotion, experience, etc. And I KNOW that’s not the right approach, so the struggle is all framed up, bumpy, hard road ahead on this front.

All the same, on we go. How does Brene Brown put it? “We are built for struggle; we are meant for love and belonging.” Something like that.

Yepper.

This sharing not a cry for help, or “whoa as me”, but just a share to share, get it out there, get it off my chest. For anyone reading this who has met me / knows me beyond this blog, sharing so you know what’s up just now with me on this life journey, a little immediate share of bumpiness, a little more context to why I strive for HalfFullAllGood.

Because I’m wicked inside. And not always “cool” ~ but striving, ever striving.

ONWARD.

“I’m Vaccinated”

Not sure who scribbled this one together, but it’s gone viral, and more important, it’s GOOD.

“I’m vaccinated and, no, I don’t know what’s in it – neither this vaccine, the ones I had as a child, nor in the Big Mac, or in hot dogs, or in other treatments…whether it’s for cancer, AIDS, the one for polyarthritis, or vaccines for infants or children. I trust my doctor when he says it’s needed.
I also don’t know what’s in Ibuprofen, Tylenol, or other meds, it just cures my headaches & my pains …
I don’t know what’s in the ink for tattoos, vaping, or every ingredient in my soap or shampoo or even deodorants. I don’t know the long term effect of cell phone use or whether or not that restaurant I just ate at REALLY used clean foods and washed their hands.
In short …
There’s a lot of things I don’t know and never will…
I just know one thing: life is short, very short, and I still want to do something other than just going to work every day or staying locked in my home. I still want to travel and hug people without fear and find a little feeling of life “before”.
As a child and as an adult I’ve been vaccinated for mumps, measles, rubella, polio, chicken pox, and quite a few others; my parents and I trusted the science and never had to suffer through or transmit any of said diseases … just saying.


I’m vaccinated, not to please the government but:

  • To not die from Covid-19.
  • To NOT clutter a hospital bed if I get sick.
  • To hug my loved ones
  • To Not have to do PCR or antigenic tests to go out dancing, go to a restaurant, go on holidays and many more things to come …
  • To live my life.
  • To have kids/grandkids go back to school and play sports.
  • For Covid-19 to be an old memory.
  • To protect us.
    Text copied, you can too.”

Oh yes, so SO agree. And so GOOD.

Get vaccinated.

Anxiety: Shape Shifter

It ebbs and flows, anxiety.

It’s a fluid, dynamic thing.

Sometimes it washes over; other times it laps laps laps gently on the shore.

It can turn violent in an instant, that’s my experience.

Anxiety is a shape shifter; it comes in the darkness, finding its way to your demise.

How can it optimize it’s crippling, or at least negative effect deep inside you?

To my own personal experience, it’s not a panic attack; it seems that if I’m ready, awake, prepared, I can soldier on. I don’t panic.

But I don’t like it; or at least, historically I’ve tried to avoid, ignore. I’ve used various means to mediate its grip.

Lately though, I wonder if it’s hell-bent on my demise; maybe that’s not its purpose, its intent.

Maybe that shape-shifter quality is to find it’s way to my most inner, vulnerable side, to help me grow, change, be…better?

Shape-shifter. Maybe anxiety is encouraging me in its own, weird way, to be a shape-shifter too…?

Yea….maybe…

Slog Through

Some days, weeks, longer,

Feels like we’re slogging through.

Keep a little smile on the face, head down to the grindstone, thankful for what we have,

Undertone though?

Slogging through, legs heavy, thick on your mind, in the back,

Slow go.

It’s this very time, each time, to stop the slide,

To pause and give thanks, quiet thanks, silent nod, to something, anything, good;

And that’s enough, can sustain another minute, hour, day,

To reset, breath, refocus, and go forward. GO FORWARD.

Yes you can. Even through the slog, legs heavy, stacks all around you,

Fear not, and you are not alone, and don’t give into panic,

Oh no no, not alone, go forward, that you can, do,

GOOD.