Tag Archives: relationships

Day One Done!

I realize it’s only the first day of summer vacation (no, summer vacation does NOT start on the weekend, I don’t understand you people who think you can count those days…) Went to the gym with the kids, took them to the sprayground, did our grocery shopping, cooked dinner, played a fucking BOARD game with them, read lots and lots of books (thanks to an amazing gift of hand-me-down books from an amazing friend), gave them a bath (usually this is not my job because COMPUTER TIME), and had a healthy dessert that the kids thought was amazing (fruit and not-kool-whip, the stuff that’s healthy and has none of the crap in it).

I know that this doesn’t mean summer will be awesome, but it’s nice to start out on a really good note. Like going for a run on your birthday (or, if you’re me, the day after your birthday. Weeks start on a Monday and your year ENDS on your birthday. That’s just how it feels right. I don’t know why.)

Anyway, that’s all for now. I’m going to start writing here even when it’s stupid, or somewhere else, but honestly, I just need to check in. I need to be accountable, even if it’s only to myself, but here is where I can do that.

But, seriously, I’m going to kill this summer. It’s going to be awesome.

Knowledge Is Power

I belonged to a group a few years ago. We met for a common purpose, and we would occasionally go for dinner together. The last time we met, one of women went around and told each of us how much she loved us, one by one, what we provided in our friendship. She got to me and told me it was because of my ability to always have information. After she had just told the other women how wonderful they were, how much she appreciated their kindness, and their support, and how amazing they are. Me: I’m a dictionary.

It’s bugged me every single day since then. I am not kind, or sensitive or supportive. I just know things.

But I’ve been thinking and I know that the reason I’m addicted to that information is because that was what my dad respected. And I’m doing the same thing to the kids. I don’t know how to not do it. I need to stop worshipping knowledge. But… well that’s how our family is.

I don’t know, I’m just down about it because another friend just told me that I’m good for this sort of thing.

Another reason to focus on the joy

When my husband came to the condo for the last walkthru he met the downstairs neighbor. Without so much as welcoming us to the neighborhood she told him he better had carpeting down. Then she asked if we had a dog and when he said not YET, told him that if it barked all the time we would have issues. She CROOKED her finger for him to come talk to her when she wanted to yell at us about the kids drawing with chalk on OUR steps. And all within the week since we moved in, without once saying hi to me. Super awesome.

And then I find out that she’s been telling other neighbors that we are “awful.”

She hasn’t even met me.

And of course that set me off. I want to not let people get to me, but I’m constantly on the verge of crying. I take everything personally. I’m working on it. …of course, I think she’s taking everything we’re doing to just live our life personally, but whatever. I’m pissed that she’s telling people we haven’t met that we’re awful. Even when I was pissed about our last upstairs neighbors I recognized that they were good people only trying to live their lives. I asked them to their faces to help us out.

I am good people. I have put all of the kids toys upstairs so that they won’t be making a whole lot of noise right above her. We are using the EXACT same rugs the old owners used. I tell the kids constantly that they can’t be running around the way they want to (which is really hard to do, I believe kids should be able to have the run of their own homes). We are good neighbors. We will shovel other neighbors driveways. I stopped a burglary at our last condo. I go out of my way for people who are nice to me. But seriously, being as awful as she is, I’m ready to stop caring. I’m ready to let my kids do whatever they want jumping on and off furniture.

Which really only goes to show that if you want people to be nice and considerate, you shouldn’t treat them like bad waiters and talk about them behind their backs. Especially if you haven’t been aware of their existence for more than a week.

My love language

I tell my kids that they can one hundred percent know, without any doubt, that I love them more than anything in the world…

because I let them put their freezing cold hands on my belly to warm them up.

The One Compatibility Test No One Talks About

I like to keep the temperature of my home really low in the winter and really high in the summer. My husband wants it always within 5 degrees of 70ºF. I find that ridiculous. I’ll change it when we have guests, or if I know I’ll be home all day, but generally I’ve got a 10º gap. It makes it easier to leave the house and not feel gross. And I like being cozy in a sweater … or three. Today it’s really really cold here, though. And we’re at home all day, which means that it’s just miserable to keep it as low as I like it, and I’ve turned it up, but most days we have a disagreement about where the thermostat should be set.

And, no, I don’t mean that the temperature you like a room at should be something you take into account. More, how uncomfortable will you allow yourself to be on a daily basis?

I dated a guy who kept his temperature at 75º in the winter and 62º in the summer. It made me extremely uncomfortable. Not because it wasn’t WONDERFUL to walk into his apartment, but because it felt so decadent. It was more than I deserved … no, that’s not what I mean. I mean that it wasn’t something I would ever pay for. And he hated that I wouldn’t change my apartment’s temperature for him.

It’s the same with the amount I walk. I have only twice ever gotten a cab for myself, and I would walk quite some distance to avoid a bus. Of course, I really like to walk. But I also just don’t see the need in comfort for comfort’s sake.

And it isn’t just a monetary issue. I mean, I’ll treat myself to expensive things, but not these.

There must be a better way to explain this. I really don’t mean being frugal. … Ugh. Maybe I’ll think of something in an hour and change this. Maybe you have a better idea?