Quarantine has taught me

by southernbelleoncaffeine, posted in Uncategorized

I know it has been awhile. Yes, I have had plenty of time to write being in isolation and all, but as usual there were too many words rushing through my head. I have given this post some thought, about forty eight hours or so, and I cannot hold it in any longer.

Even as a forty something year old woman, I still struggle with the queen B’s, cliques, and general fakery that goes on between women. WOMEN- for those that did not catch it the first time. I am getting better with learning to spot it and move on from it, but at times I wonder if that leaves me jaded?

During quarantine I really tried to stay off of social media. I checked my Facebook notifications daily in case a craft crisis had occurred in one of my craft groups, but I tried not to scroll and I did not post. But, then I started to scroll the closer we got to the end of isolation. I saw people, Facebook “friends”, some I thought who were real friends posting all about their journey to become more open, accept more friends, blah, blah, blah. I saw others just having a grand time with each other , kids playing together, laughing. Here I am stuck in a depression watching Netflix.

This may sound like a pity party. I assure you it’s not. It is perplexing. I have put myself out there. I have joined groups. I have helped at my daughters school. I have done everything I know to make mom friends. The mom friends that are in a clique, well they were in a clique in high school too together. This is the part I did not know happened. I did not know that clique carried over into adulthood. I have changed since high school, but y’all haven’t?

It’s just so confusing. So sad. Frustrating. Lonely. Quarantine made me realize the fakery and mean girls of grown women.

What kind of ship is your marriage?

by southernbelleoncaffeine, posted in Everyday Experiences, Uncategorized
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Ya’ll, I have really been struggling lately. That’s just the real, raw, honest truth. I know we all go through things, but for the past month my anxiety and depression has really had a hold on me. I knew it was coming due to some medication issues, which is the hard part about depression, knowing it’s there and not being able to do anything about it.
 
Just as things were starting to feel normal again, Tommy and I were hit with a HUGE curve ball!!! I mean, the kind that hits you in the stomach and takes your breath away. This time instead of breaking down and just living in it, I prayed. Well, I pray all the time. My mind is always running so it’s sort of an open dialogue between me and God, but this time I deliberately prayed. I was honest, I didn’t even know what I was praying for. I mean, it wasn’t a health issue. It wasn’t like we were going to be homeless. It was just something that effected us big time and took another swing at us coming out the other side of these last long 5 years.
 
So Tommy came home for his few days off the road and sat down and “looked” at the books. Somehow, he figured it out. Sure, I can give up my dream of going back to school and just go back to work, and of course that was on the table. But we know that isn’t best for our family. I then realized that not only had God answered my prayers, I mean I didn’t have all the money we needed, but he had given us a way to provide. My husband. That was the answer. This man that for the last 5 years has listened to me complain about this decision and not get over how we got here. But now, in this moment it’s where we needed to be. He is able to provide what we need. He is able to provide what other responsibilities he has. More importantly he is willing to do it. That is the answer to the prayer to our huge curve ball.
But it was a friend of mine that sort of pulled me out. She asked questions better than a therapist. She asked about the past, like “do you blame him for this” and “do you blame him for that” and “do you trust him”. After all the ugliness, which I never deny , was there all on the table she then asked, “do you believe that together, you two can handle anything”? That was the moment I got it. I understood that I was harboring all of the resentment for the past 5 years despite that we continued to hold onto one another and make it through anything. There was no reason to keep the resentment. There was no reason to keep the ill will. First, there was no infidelity. It was just a fucked up situation that happened. I was mad for all sorts of reasons. But in that once conversation with my friend I realized that despite being mad, we had made it through because we can make it through anything together. That’s our love.
So I let it go. I let that heavy ball go. I prayed. I realized what the real answer was and had been. I also read something that was so poignant. It compared marriage to a ship.
All of this time, even though I had been carrying ice bergs with me, my marriage was a strong ship, not the Titanic. I had been so preoccupied with what caused the rough water that I didn’t notice the strong ship that we had built and how it was withstanding the waves and wind because of the two of us holding it together. I am grateful for my prayer, I am grateful for that friend that gave me the perspective, and I am grateful for my shipmate.  

I don’t know what you’re first words were, oh well!

by southernbelleoncaffeine, posted in Uncategorized, Women Stuff

Blasphemy! I know, I know! I am a terrible mother. I am not saying that for pity of martyrdom, but seriously, there are key childhood, key baby moments that I just do not have the answers to. But my dear penguin, before you take to the therapist couch just yet and carry all of my baggage with you ( Vera Bradley or Tumi please), please know I have very solid reasons for not knowing some of these answers.

Maybe it’s turning 40 this past year. Maybe it is because she just went to her first dance (daddy-daughter dance) and then I saw pictures of the eighth grade dance on social media and immediately thought “ahh, I can’t take it, that’s next. And then the prom”. Or maybe it’s the People magazine article I read on the opioid crisis among young adults and that sent me tumbling down another rabbit hole all together. But anyhow, I saw this beautiful advertisement on Zulily for one of the chalkboard milestone fill ins that are so popular these days and I started thinking, “I don’t know the answers to those questions “.

The parent fills in X for age, then other answers such as “I can ___”, “My favorite toy___”, and “My favorite foods___”. Oh my did I start feeling like a failure. I immediately asked Tommy for answers and went into a diatribe of “was she going to end up with an empty, or half filled baby book and just a box of keepsakes from her childhood like he has in a closet of his married home”!?!?!? Yes! I spin out easily and fast. Clearly these meds are not working. Which he did mention, have you started the new hormones? I digress.

Tommy , your daddy my dearest love penguin, says your first words were something of the “da-da-da-da” nature. Leaning towards “daddy”. I do not disagree. I am sure even at just a few months old you knew who would be the calmer of the two of us. Please know I have a good reason for not having these answers.

I truly do not remember exactly when you took your first steps. I was too busy trying to protect you from hurting yourself when you did.

I am not sure what you favorite foods were. I only wanted to feed you the healthiest and the best and whatever had the least like-ability you wouldn’t choke on it.

I do not think you had a favorite toy because I did not let you sleep with anything. I did not let you sleep without being held for the first two weeks of your life and then after that you slept without anything close to you, on a breathing monitor with a video monitor. I did this because I was scared of something happening while you slept.

So, no I don’t have all the answers from your baby days. I don’t know all of your first. There were days I was so anxiety ridden with something happening to you that those days led to sleepless nights. I’ve just tried to protect you since the day you were born. I don’t have the answers because I was too busy loving you.

*Disclaimer: I do not insinuate that parents who do know the answers love their children any less. This is my blog. My thoughts.

I made a decision

by southernbelleoncaffeine, posted in Uncategorized

I realize my post earlier today was short and puzzling. That is okay. But, I have made an astonishing decision while watching T.V., which for some reason I tend to think a lot while doing. Part of the reason I could not seem to connect my thoughts to paper earlier is my depression and anxiety. But, I am trying something new to see if it works.

Acceptance. I am going to accept that I am on a carousel of cleaning, laundry, etc and move on. I know it sounds weird, but I have been stubbornly fighting it ever since I became a stay at home mom. “What do you think housewives do?” You ask? Well….I’m not saying I thought I should never clean, but I guess I really thought it was more balanced. I know, delusional. I have been causing myself the anxiety by fighting it all this time. I must accept that I am now Cinderella before the ball and there is no glass slipper in my future.

The glass slipper in this case would be my anxiety going down, having more patience which will lead to a happier home life. This may seem delusional too. Maybe it is? Maybe I’m hungry and my blood sugar is low and I’m not thinking clearly. Who knows? Really at this point I’ll give it a try though. I really have to relax. I don’t mean sitting around, I mean mentally , and if that means just accepting that I am to clean up behind everyone and take care of everything then I’ll give it a whirl. My body cannot take much more of this constant stress and anxiousness.

So, here we go. Acceptance.

I’m baaack…….sort of?

by southernbelleoncaffeine, posted in Uncategorized

Well, old friend, it sure has been awhile. I have no idea where the time has gone or the pen or the paper. No excuses for why I haven’t written. I have tried to keep every little detail, every memory tucked away in a special folder in my mind and heart. But, it sure does feel good to have the keys below my finger tips and hear the tapping of them in my ears as I pour out the song of my heart from the last year of mountains and mole hills.

I have joined the class of women I often have blogged about before. The women who get to exercise at 6:30 in the morning. The women who go to their children’s school events. YES, those women. I am that woman now, that mom. I joined the stay at home mom club back in May 2018. There was no ceremony, no pinning, no certificate even. Just a miserable job, a discussion over bourbon with my husband, a 2 1/2 month notice -that turned shorter thank you JESUS– and then one day I just became a stay at home mom. I dropped the penguin off at school in my pajamas and I picked her up in my pajamas. I’m not going to lie. There was only two weeks left of school at this point. Wait a minute, actually, the first week she continued to go to after school care so I picked her up around 5:00 in my pajamas. That’s right, that’s why I didn’t get the certificate, because I didn’t start running at 6:30 a.m. right away.

Sarcasm aside, as much as I can push it away anyhow, I am not going to gush about how I love being a stay at home mom. Don’t get me wrong. I do love being a stay at home mom. But not exactly for the reason that I expected or that other SAHM might love about it (I don’t know for sure what other SAHM take away from it so please no hate comments). The one thing I know is that I am grateful for my husband that he heard my cries of anxiety and unhappiness in the workplace. I am grateful that he has a financial plan in his head that allows me to do this at this time of our child’s life that is so crucial. Whether I worked or not, he would still be driving a truck for at least another three years only coming home about 1 1/2 days a week. As parents we felt the need to have one parent be more focused on the penguin inside the home and I DO realize what a blessing this is. So please don’t ever mistake my sarcasm for me taking anything for granted.

Full disclosure. I just deleted 2 more paragraphs I wrote.  My heart has quit singing and my mind has closed off the folders. There is no more for the keys to tap out today.

Bathroom stages according to the penguin

by southernbelleoncaffeine, posted in Everyday Experiences, The Penguin and The Belle

The Penguin and I were discussing a certain bathroom event and decided we needed to come up with a term we would both be comfortable using. I could have used the proper terminology, sure but, but that would lead to a whole other blog post. Agreeing on a number system, she then broke down the entire number codes for me.

#1-peeing

#2-poohing

#3-diary (diarrhea)

#4-throwing up

#5-diary (diarrhea) and throwing up

#6-peeing, diary, AND throwing up

There you have it peeps. The decoded bathroom numbers according to an eight year old.

#parenting, #motherhood, #reallife, #thebelleandthepenguin, #pottyhumor

So glad I’m not missing this

by southernbelleoncaffeine, posted in The Penguin and The Belle

Who knew Chick-fil-A could be a fine dining experience? Take a Penguin with you and you will see. Despite the intermittent play breaks it still takes her a good thirty minutes to even eat her food. Plus she must decide the difficult decision of keeping her treat or turning it in for ice cream. There are list involved sometimes.

During one of these visits while she pondered life across from me, I just couldn’t help but smile. Smile and thank God for this opportunity that my husband was giving me to be a stay at home mom with her. I was immersed in her conversation while at the same time so delighted not to be at a workplace. I could feel the freshness and weightlessness of the genuine moment we were sharing.

“It’s weird I like these cherries, I mean , I didn’t always like them.”

“Okay, and then what happened?”

“But, I drink cherry coke, and that’s cherry…..so, I don’t know”

I’m just smiling from ear to ear.

She flips her hair.

“Was my hair like this when I was five”?

Then I just laughed and was so thankful I had not missed a moment of what just happened.

Let your soul be wild and free my little one

by southernbelleoncaffeine, posted in The Penguin and The Belle

I have pondered the nature vs nurture debate quite often when it comes to my anxiety. It always seemed that nurture would win in the cause category until recently. If I were to make a list of MY anxiety, it may still beat out another hypothesis as the root cause, but I am learning, in the parenting game, things are not always what they seem. I know one thing for certain. Someone without anxiety cannot understand another person trying to explain the reasons why and how to them, which make dealing with it quite lonely at times.

I contributed most of my anxiety issues to my grandmother. I learned as an adult, due to multiple tragedies in her life she had much to be anxious about. But when I stayed with her a lot growing up I didn’t understand that. As my anxiety began to take hold, I thought it must be because I was exposed to hers so much. Then I learned my daddy has it too, which would make sense. Except, except I never knew growing up my Daddy had anxiety.?

Now I see my seven year old experience it. She has exhibited signs since a young age and it manifest in different ways. But, I make a very contentious effort NOT to expose her to my anxiety. So much so that I have other family members help rationalize situations for me so I do not let it get the best of me. Believe me, I’ve come a long way since she was an infant! But to see her with it breaks my heart because I know how she feels. Could it be a manipulation at times? Sure, I am aware of that, just as I am aware of what true anxiety looks like on the face of my seven year old.

My husband, as great as he is, is not someone who understands. Oh sure, he understands my anxiety for the super Center and that look I get when I am about to melt down. But he doesn’t understand this gut wrenching, deep breathing anxiety. The kind that has kept me up all night to write this at 4:15 a.m

I only hope she can hold on to the parts of her soul that are wild and carefree. The parts that laugh at everything with a giggle that can warm the coldest of souls. The wander I see in her eyes as she studies something with her mind working on how it may operate. I want her to hold onto the part that operates on stuffed animals with ketchup and gloves and leave the heavy burden of anxiety to me. I’m her mama, her keeper, I can carry the load for us both.

Dear 22 year old

by southernbelleoncaffeine, posted in Women Stuff

thI have been where you are. I know what is going through your head. I am still there most days, but I have got some age on me now. I know things you do not know at 22, or do not believe yet anyway. It is hard to believe them, when all around you everything goes against it. But, I am writing this because at 22 there is still time. Time for you to change your thought process . Time for you to become head strong. Stronger than you already are so that when you do have years on you too, like me, you will be able to look back and think, “I’m so happy I was able to change my way of thinking.” The reason is this, your mind is one of the most powerful tools you have. It can help you, it can hurt you. It had done both over time to me. It continues to do it daily. I wish I had someone to say this to me at 22, really at 15.

My story begins at 15, really younger, but for the sake of this we will say 15. I looked around, I noticed what was going on. The girls getting the attention from the boys. Meeting them at the movies. I could not figure it out. I was outgoing, friendly, had plenty of friends but I was not one the one the boys noticed outside of the “friend zone”. I realized what they did notice. I became obsessed with it. Exercising like crazy, becoming “healthy” is what I said. But at one time my parents considered sending me off to treatment because my “healthy” behavior had gotten out of control and on my large boned frame, the weight I had lost down to was skeletal thin. However it paid off where I wanted it to at the time. According to what the “norm” was anyway.

At age 16 the first boy notice me and asked me out. We hit it off. blah, blah, blah, fell in love, married when we finished college at 21 and the rest is divorce history. I could not keep up the charade. I am not born to be a naturally thin person. I am not a skinny girl by birth. I began to gain the weight back when I began to eat again. Just eating healthy, minding my own business, still exercising like normal and eating like normal, but gaining weight above Skeleton’s level. After gaining the weight, this person who promised me forever, better and worse, realized he only like the size I was at 16, not the size I had become 12 years later. Immediately my mind went to the place , “no one will ever want me, love me, if I am not small”, really there was evidence of that right?

Time passes. My soul was searched. Prayers were prayed. I cannot tell you all scars heal, but now I know that body shaming is a real thing and a real problem. I actually lived it the entire time I was married not only by my ex-husband but his family also. The people out there that talk, whisper, stare. They are not secure with something they have, something they are dealing with. Yes, I said I struggle now. Because I did not change my thought process early enough.

That’s what I want for you. Change your mind now. You are good enough RIGHT NOW! RIGHT THIS SECOND you are GREAT, exactly how you were meant to be. Whoever does not see that, whoever comments to the contrary does not deserve a second thought. I know it is not easy. I KNOW it is not easy. But you can do it. You HAVE to do it. Now. Change your thought process now and stop body shaming yourself. NOW.

Of course, dreams come true my dear child

by southernbelleoncaffeine, posted in The Penguin and The Belle

 
As we were taking a bath tonight, I made the water turn purple and the penguin giggled with delight as she said, “Mama! You’ve made all my dreams come true!” For a brief moment I thought not only was this a bit dramatic, for which I smiled because that’s ‘all me’, but also I thought how I wish it would always be that simple. But then she paused and looked up with my blue eyes and asked, “do your dreams always come true mama?” There was no hesitation as I smiled back and said “of course they do my Penguin “. 

The world is not always nice and she will learn on her own sooner than I would like. As long as I can, I will make her dreams come true and more importantly, I will continue to teach her that her dreams will come true.