Let's talk it out

Something my husband still struggles to understand about me is my need to "talk it out." In his mind I'm bitching about the same thing over and over again, being indecisive. I know part of him just wants to grab me on both shoulders and shake me until I shut-up. What he doesn't see is the whacked out thought process going on and how many times I've already had this discussion in my head. By the time I've made my way to his ears there's been at least three renditions of the thought process, and now I'm just vocalizing it to see if it sounds as sane outside of my head as it did inside. You'd think that talking to another human being would be better than talking to myself, but clearly he thinks not.

My mother has had years of practice with this and knows the difference between a pause for comment, and a pause to catch my breath and continue. After almost thirty years of being my sounding board it's her turn to take a break, and part of his husbandly duties to humor me. I have a gut that has served me well, not only at meal time, but in life in general. I KNOW what it's telling me. I don't always listen, but I do always KNOW. If I come up with an idea, thought, or decision and don't KNOW, then I keep talking. As annoying as it may be, this process has never failed me, and I'm not about to abandon it now.

Tonight I KNEW and I'm in a better place because of it. WE'RE in a better place because of it.

Open mouth insert foot, and leg it's attached to

So, we've all had those moments where before your brain can start filtering your mouth you find yourself halfway down the road to, "No seriously, tell me how you really feel." Well that was me today and really the only excuse I have is that I was so tired I didn't know what I was saying until it was too late. I wasn't saying anything I haven't said before, but typically the comments are reserved for the ears of my husband, in the safety of our home, while sipping (guzzling) an adult beverage. Any other day I slap a smile on my face and become the sunshine princess that everyone knows and loves. Not the case today. Today I felt the need to air ALL of my frustrations about my boss to a coworker. The horrified look on her face said it all and as quick as I could I just.stopped.talking. It was like a train wreck and I was watching from inside. Twelve hours later I still can't believe I lost control. I mean seriously, how does the control freak loose control?

Clearly I have some issues that need to be addressed before I have another attack and this time on said boss. That will be the express train to unemployment and waiting tables. The longer I work in customer service, the more I can relate to cartoons. There are so many times when I'm sitting there with a smile glued to my face while imagining a baseball bat bonking the person in front of me repeatedly on the head. Or maybe their head just explodes mid inanely annoying request. When necessary I can fake interest like the best of them, but lately I catch myself in a blank stare wondering if they can see the daggers coming out of my eyes. Perhaps I need a career change. At the very least I need a vacation.

The year of me

When I was 12 my mom was admitted to the hospital. Diagnosis -- exhaustion. At 29 I'm already starting to see signs of how much I'm like my mother. I like to please people and make things easier for them. It's what makes me great at my job, but also what is leading me down the path my mother forged before me. While most people have a grey area between wants and needs, I have a line in the sand, and everything can be placed on one side or the other. Because of this, everyone else seems to have so many needs that my very few shortly loose their priority, but not their importance. I'll still get to them, but they'll have to wait. It's easy to dismiss your priorities when they're pushing you into an area of challenge. "Oh I can't make it to the gym today because I had to stay late to help the boss, and the dogs need to be let out of their crates." "No, I didn't get a chance to study my photography book because the laundry and dishes needed to be done."

I see it happening more and more and am feeling the drain already. I still enjoy doing all these things for people to help them out, but find that the I either forget to etch out some time for just me or actually manage keep to it. As much as I love my husband and spending time with him is a truly relaxing end to the day, it's still not me time. It's still not me focusing on what I want to do and how to do it. It's still not making them wait for what they "need" so that I can get a little of what I want.

On that note, I'm declaring this the year of me. I know this mindset won't come any easier once children are involved so I need to learn the discipline and set the standard now. It's important that I learn to do this. Both for the balance of my marriage, and the future example I hope to set for my children. And surprisingly, the more I type, the more this sounds like the year of them. What can I say. I'm not going to stop doing something solely for me just because it throws a positive out to the ones I love. That's just bonus.

When I grow up, I wanna be a ...

...doctor
...lawyer
...author
...photographer
...well paid housewife

And most recently...retired.

The truth is I really don't know what I want to do when I grow up. Every time I think I have an idea I quickly find a list of reasons it is equally as terrible as it is great. Doctors and lawyers? Way too much school. Author? I can barely lie, let alone tell a story. Photographer? It would definitely be cool, but man will that take a lot of ambition. Well paid housewife? Did I hear The Real Housewives of DC was coming to town?

Something about getting older and approaching being a grownup for more years than you've been a kid makes you take a good look at where you are in life. Is this where I thought I'd be. HELL NO! That's not to say I'm not happy. In the original "plan" I'd be pregnant with #2 by now and lord knows what I'd be doing as far as work. No thank you. Ask me again in a year if I'm ready to think about #1.

What I do know is that I want my kids to be proud of me. Hell, I want me to be proud of me, and right now I feel like I'm falling short. I'm not living up to my potential and seem to keep making excuses why not. I don't want to be one of those people that looks back when they're older and can only see the missed opportunities. I know that life is short, and my biggest fear isn't being forgotten, but not having done something to be remembered.

When I grow up, I want to be remembered.

Small acts of kindness pay heftily in husband points

Most of the time I would bet money that as I'm rambling out ideas I'd like to do around the house, or reasons why I can't do certain things, my dear husband has his earmuffs on blocking out the oncoming honey-do list. It's the other times that I'm happy not to be a gambler because that's when he invites his alter ego Super Clint over to remind me how awesome he is and that he can in fact multi-task.

Just this weekend I was mentioning how the office was still really a mess and that I had cleaned as much as I could, but that the rest of the "stuff" was his to decide on. I may have also mentioned wanting to get my desk setup with my photo HD attached to the laptop and the photo printer installed. And that running the wireless modem through the bedroom closet and out through the office closet would be a good idea and allow us to hardwire into the modem when we're getting a crappy connection. All of which I was sure to be soaring to the top of that honey-do list...right behind mowing the lawn and going to dinner with the in-laws.

Much to my surprise the dear man was listening and taking notes. He setup my desk with the laptop, printer, and hard drive. Cleaned out three of his boxes and took them down to he garage for trash day. And did in fact wire the modem through the closet so that we could get faster connections when needed. I in no way expected him to get all of it done, but it was nice to see how much time and effort he put in to make me happy. On the other hand, it could also be his way of eliminating excuses as to why I'm not working on my photos.

Well played sir.