Me: Daily

Happy Daddy’s Day to all the Daddies who did not fail to acknowledge their daughter’s wedding!

What? Weren’t prepared for that little nugget of issues? That’s what you get here; treasures of crazy when you least expect it. Wouldn’t want you to get bored and ‘get me the hell out of here’ click-y. Moving on.

Or back, rather…

And especially to my husband who has gotten through his first week as a full time, stay at home dad of two children who remain live and fully functioning!  Yay, honey!!

How do you know you’re not weird? Not cute weird, but a contender for the most socially awkward award?

I tell sarcastic jokes. I save the best ones for myself.  Sometimes, I laugh so hard, I can’t even get passed thoughts to develop my silly bites into sounds.

On other occasions, I blurt a blurb and receive blank stares in return. Do I talk too fast? Was my listener unprepared for the mind blowing humor I bestowed on them?

…Or are they scared because they don’t know if they should humor a crazy person?

Some people laugh at all my jokes. I like those people the most. Maybe the same way pheromones naturally attract people together, some people are biologically geared to laugh with me.

It’s not all the time you meet someone who oscillates on the same wavelength as you and I’m glad for the precious few I’ve found.

If we’re all crazy, at least we can look forward to making up the best nut house around. We’d medicate with wine, sooth with chocolate, and cook with cheese. Sounds more like heaven.

Don’t get all carpel tunnel on the word choice. Better writing to come as soon as I figure out how to balance the new life.

I’m lucky to have had the time with my kids when I stayed at home. Unless I really am awkward. Then this turn of events is doing wonders for their development.

I despise Negative Nancy’s, and Debbie Downer’s, and especially Depressed Dave’s. I’ve been too close of friends with them lately and am turning my back on them at once. I would feel bad, but they probably love the material to cry over.

At my new job, I supposedly took a high stress position. I feel I am relaxing into the work quite comfortably, though. Armed with chocolate to calm the nerves and inject energy throughout the day, I think I will do quite well.

Also, I am fairly certain I got my new job by writing “If I were any cooler, I would be an ice cube” on my application.

My 1 year old FINALLY took to suckling liquids from plastic nipples! Yes, it has been a long, arduous road, but it has been a road dry of tears and ease of natural weaning.

I have the most amazing photo journal of my past weeks. I plan to share the story of buying my Canon T1i. It was a hard decision, but I am endlessly amused with my purchase and absolutely love my One and Only toy. Pictures will be shared as soon as I conquer the laze.

I love, love, love our house! and our Space! and my new Furniture! and the blank palate I have to Decorate! Design plan is pictured and will come to fruition soon for you to see in pictures at a blog near you.

We have the most amazing, huge, beautiful tree in our backyard. It is inspiring and I am looking forward to sitting outside with my daughter and painting pictures of it together.

And lastly, I am in love with living close to family. I remember the emptiness I felt every time we would leave them to fly back to NY. Still when we say goodbye, I have to remind myself that it is not the beginning of long forboden ‘until next times’. The warmth of their security blanket is addictive.

It began on Sunday when I told my husband I didn’t like it in Ft Myers after he started his continued campaign for reasons to love it here. Because we only argue about the important things, we started an irritated back and forth which pulled the phrase “We have nothing in common” from the depths of my husband’s inner workings. In his defense, he apologized later, citing a feeling of failure and a desire to please. And in mine, I was suffocating on the feeling of being boxed in after realizing my limited job prospects here. Still, I hate that he would ever think that and so I wanted to cry.

No tears.

Later that day I faced a run in with my father whom I haven’t spoken to in almost two years. It’s his fault. I know you’re thinking two sides, but that doesn’t exist here. You only get one side and fortunately for you, it’s the right side. Confrontation is only an attempt to resolve an issue, something I told myself I would never attempt with him. I turned my back on my classy lady self and yelled for no good. In the end, I only smelled of trash and his bs.

No tears. Chest pain.

On Tuesday, I got into a yelling match with my brother, the second since I’ve moved. I usually never argue with him, but it seems there’s something different with him lately. He seems defensive and quiet. I’m confused and it saddens me that our former Na’vi like Avatar bond has been broken. Its probably the fault of that dumb B who cut my hair.

No tears. A heavy heart. Wine.

My younger sister was visiting from California. She is young and free spirited and obnoxiously facetious and I love her. When I came home from work today she was gone. I don’t know when I’ll see her again.

No tears. Emptiness. Sleep.

I quit my job today because I had a better offer. I am not one to use people and, having worked very close with my boss, thought of our relationship more as a working friendship. She made superfluous accommodations for me and in the end, I had to tell her I was leaving her unexpectedly during a great time of need for her business. She was understandably upset. I feel awful and wish I was in a position to stay with her, but I simply cannot afford to. She may never talk to me again.

No tears. Terrible guilt and sadness. Chocolate and wine.

Add all this crap to a feeling of sorrow that wraps itself around the inside of my gut and makes me feel nervous and empty while forcing repeated sing song thoughts of “little boxes made of ticky tacky” every time I drive around this place and you have a white head ready to pop in floods of juicy glory.

I apologize for the virtual tears that are flooding your screen and running onto your keyboard. I hate when I can feel stuff on my key board. I currently have to pound my “I” and I’m sure it’s because there’s a chip crumb under it.

Despite my melodrama, my nights have ended with prayers of great thanks. The good will of strangers have gifted me literal comfort, in the form of goose down in one instance, and peace of mind. I have attained 3 jobs since moving here, which equates to a new opportunity every week we’ve been down. The comforting love and support of family have replaced the the life NY offered us. My older sister has long been my hero and she has made a world of difference to me lately. I have yet to find where she hides her damn cape. I bet it’s awesome and sprinkles chocolate in its wake. Altogether, our move has been extremely fruitful.

I even seemed to have left my icing addiction in the Northeast. Woot!

I also want to thank all my bloggy friends for keeping me in mind. I’ve visited your comments and your blogs for comfort during my pity parties of dramatic woe. Thank you for making me laugh and warming me with your love.

…because I am overloaded with activity. Our moving process is proving to be long and arduous. Just a quick update to let you know I’M STILL HERE!!!

Furniture hunting to fill the new space. Turns out, the furniture required for 400 sq ft living spaces looks and feels like doll house furniture in any other setting.

My son turns 1 today! I can not believe my blueberry muffin is 1. He is my clingy little love shadow and it seems eons ago that he was tunneling through my orifices. So glad he did

Friday Flip-offs, the brainchild of Gigi at KludgyMom, are “a way of ridding the weekday angst and frustration before heading into the weekend.” I will be unpacking into a house I will be living in, but have not yet seen so I need all the help I can get.

On with the purging.

To me, for packing a single black bra with a three day old yogurt stain on the left cup to wear while I wait for the rest of my belongings to arrive in a moving truck. And for wearing a black bra under an orange tank top, the combination of which was hidden by a cardigan until I flew into Florida and realized the heat wouldn’t allow for a sweater. And for then fearing I looked like old Halloween trash. And for resolving to take said bra off while my brother pumped gas. And especially for forgetting the stained bra in his car after I told myself not to and having to go 2 days loosey goosey around my grandfather’s house. My grandfather’s house! And for having to implore my younger brother to look in his car for my bra, hoping that neither he nor his young friends would find the white stain and presuppose it was from anything but yogurt. And for mulling over the idea of awkwardly explaining to my brother that I wear dirty bras just in case he happened upon the sight of the Lewinsky like mess; Flip Off, you stupid Flipping Moron.

Now, I hope I can forget my idiocy and the needless energy I put into this stupid nothing of an ordeal. Also, I hope I learn to wash my bras more often.

Have some flipping off you wish to do? Link up at Kludgy Mom and A Beautiful Mess.

**Update**

The bra was found. Conversation ensued exactly as imagined with my brother. and his girlfriend. She tried to offer the comfort that she would do the same, but something about the frilly lace I saw under her shirt tells me she hasn’t given up on herself in the ways that I have.

We’ve spent the weekend pleasantly distracted from our move chauffeuring my in-laws around the city. It’s been a wonderful way to end here; paying last respects to our favorite spots while being with what we have to look forward to, our family. Really, it’s been lovely.

I just watched the series finale of Lost, though, and all the optimism and diversion that was created has been destroyed like the hatch after Locke decided to rebel against button pushing.

Now, I’m baking a cake for the last time in the home my daughter  lost her toddler youth in, in the first home my son ever knew, the home of countless quiet dinners with my daughter, the home of my son’s first giggles, of movie nights cuddled up with my daughter and husband. The echoes of my daughter’s laughter will forever reverberate off these walls, my son’s first smiles forever cemented in shadows. The emotions of our struggles and successes will always be here and so, too, will a part of me.

Fact: symbolism is not lost on me

…neither are punny jokes.

Let’s just hope I don’t break down in that convulsive cry of deep loss the next chance I get a moment alone.

Friday Flip-offs, the brainchild of Gigi at KludgyMom, are a way of ridding the weekday angst and frustration before heading into the weekend. I’m a mess with this moving crap. My angst rivals that of teens worldwide.

To moving, for making me much too nostalgic and ridden with rampant emotions that I have no time for, Flip Off.

Some friends treated me to a farewell lunch yesterday and I realized then how much packing I have to do and how insane it is that I developed the friendships I have and how supportive they’ve become. Over the past two years, I’ve spent a lot of time building a somewhat unlikely friendship. A mom of a rough and tumble boy and I with my quiet, shy daughter began play dating after school last year. We would go to the park together, both taking our kids to the playground in an effort to expend their energy. I remember liking the ease at which laughter and conversation came with her, unlike other conversations where listening and interest were exhaustive, forced exercises. She’s become as much a routine in my life as showers (not every day, but most).  I’ve made quite an eclectic group of mommy friends who I’ve not only passed playground play date time with, but have thoroughly enjoyed as well. I am thankful to them and sappy and emotional so I send out a big Flip Off to freaking feeeelings.

To packing which sucks and brings out dust that makes me feel (there it is again!) like I’ve never cleaned my home, Flip Off. You make me dirty and gross.

To my daughter’s class mom who said, “My daughter doesn’t have melt downs,” after I asked if her birthday ended with one, Flip Off. Your domineering and pretentiousness is nauseating. And I’m kicking you out of mom club for breaking the “Don’t act like I don’t know the love for your kids juxtaposes all the shit they give you,” rule. I am glad to be rid of your pompous bragging about your parenting skills and the greatness of your children. I will not miss you.

To life, for keeping my sister back from her planned trip up here for my husband’s graduation, Flip Off. We’ll all be fine, but I want you to know that is really disappointing.

Finally, to my son who giggles every time I change his diaper as though to slur, “Oh ho ho! I like it when you wipe my butt!”, Thank you. Your laughter is a great reprieve from my emotional mess. And to your shrills at the sound of loud noises, most recently of taping boxes, Thank you. The scope of your little world as to provide you fear that reaches its extent at loud noises is refreshingly enviable and makes me happy.

Have your own flip offs? Link up at Kludgy Mom and A Beautiful Mess. Do it. It’s like eating comfort chocolate without all the calories.