It's been ten days since my best friend lost her 10 week old son...
I wish there was something that I could do to take her pain away. I cry for her because I can only imagine the heartbreak that she must feel. I think she's still in some form of denial, but I also think that as the days go by, it becomes harder for her to deny that Eli is gone. I asked her yesterday how she was doing and she said to 'I just want to hold Eli. I miss holding him so much.' And it just tore me apart. I feel such sadness for her. I am so hurt for her. I want nothing more than to take it all away for her. To make all this pain go away. To rewind two weeks and tell her not to leave the baby at home with his father.
Maybe it's selfish, but I'm so sad for myself, too. That little boy was, in my mind, my nephew. He was so perfect and I was so excited for her to be a mom. I wanted to be the fun aunt. I wanted to babysit him for the night so Terrie and Rob could go out for a night without the kids. I wanted Eli to be my future son's best friend (no - I'm not pregnant...I'm just saying). I wanted to watch him grow up and see how adorable he would be. I wanted to continue to spoil him and take excessive pictures of him. I wanted to take family photos for them. And now all of that is shattered.
Hubby feels like I've been overly emotional about the whole thing. I don't feel like I've been emotional at all, really. I cried at home, as he laid in the hospital. And I cried at home the day that he died. But contrary to my normal behavior, I've been very unemotional. I wanted to be strong for Terrie. To let her know that if she needed to cry, I wouldn't. That I would hold her up - she didn't have to be so strong.
The day that Eli passed, Terrie asked me if I would sing at his memorial. Yes, I'm in the choir and I don't mind being the center of attention in short bursts in social situations, but singing solo in front of people - that brings the nerves. I could not possibly tell her no. I keep on telling her I will do anything to help her - just ask. This is what she asked of me, so I told her I would, if another one of our sisters could do it with me. She agreed and told me that she would like us to sing 'Over the Rainbow' since she used to sing it to Eli. She & I practiced as much as we could over the next two days and at the memorial, we were ready to go. Unfortunately, because I wanted to be composed when we stood in front of the room of people, I forced myself to tune out much of what was said during the service. Terrie's sister read a poem that she'd written and the rabbi read a letter that Terrie had written to Eli. There were a number of prayers and a reciting of the 23rd Psalm. But mostly what I heard were the words to 'Over the Rainbow,' since I continually was saying them over & over in my head. I'd stare at the ceiling, breathe deeply and all I could think was 'Someday I'll wish upon a star and wake up where the clouds are far behind me....'
After the service, I held a number of our friends as they wept for Terrie & her sweet baby. And again, I didn't shed a tear. All of a sudden, I had become the strong one, allowing our friends to lean on me. I was amazed at the outpouring of love and support from our sorority sisters. When I pledged the sorority, I thought it would be a good way to meet some girls on campus, make some new friends, and have a good time. I never, ever thought that five years after graduating, I would still be so close to so many of them. And that so many of them who we hardly ever talk to - even one that only knew Terrie through Facebook - drove the hour plus to show their support for her.
And the support from these girls still continues. After the service last weekend, some of the girls that attended went out to lunch. We came up with a plan to prepare food for her and to bring it to her on Monday, so that she could sit Shiva and properly mourn the loss of her son. I sent an email to whichever girls I thought might want to help and was FLOORED by the help that we received. Terrie probably has enough food in her fridge/freezer to last through the month of June. Not to mention, some of the girls that were unable to send food sent money to buy things for her that might be needed.
A few of the girls have also drove out to visit her during the week - just to spend time with her and let her know that they're still thinking of her. These same two girls, along with a couple others, are spearheading a plan to raise some money for Terrie to do with as needed. They're planning a benefit to take place on July 1st at Lewis University - where we all met and developed the bonds that have held so tightly. We're organizing silent auction items, we will have a dj and food/drinks, there will be on campus sponsors; all proceeds will go to Terrie and it will be up to her - and ONLY her - as to how the money is spent.
I went to her place this afternoon and stayed for the evening. We laid in her bed and watched Law & Order: CI all afternoon. Another one of our sisters joined us in the evening and Terrie showed her pictures of Eli - she had never had the chance to meet him. It was a nice afternoon - it could have only been better if Eli had been there to share the day with us.
I love ya, Little Man. Love, Auntie Jen
Showing posts with label tears. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tears. Show all posts
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
I'm praying for a miracle
My best friend & her 2 month old son need your help. I can't do this alone.
Yesterday, Eli (the baby) was hurt. His father was feeding him and the baby fell from his arms. He hit his head and lost consciousness and subsequently stopped breathing. By the time the ambulance had arrived, there was a significant loss of oxygen to the brain. They performed emergency surgery yesterday to relieve the hemmoraging and swelling, but things are not looking good. Eli is in critical condition in the PICU and the doctors are not giving him much of a chance to get through this. There is zero brain activity and he's hooked up to a bunch of machines, including a ventilator. Tomorrow morning, they're planning to take him off of the vent to see if he will breathe on his own.
This poor little baby. He's so perfect and tiny and the closest I will ever come to having a nephew. And my best friend - I cannot even begin to imagine the terror that she's going through right now. I only know how helpless I feel; being the best friend and seeing how much pain she is in and not being able to do anything to help her. I don't know how to help her, other than to be there for her and continue to let her know that I love her and I'm praying with all my heart for her and her son.
I can't begin to know what you all believe or what you can do, but any positivity you can offer is most appreciated. Prayers, positive vibes, good karma - she & Eli need it badly. I'm being as strong as I possibly can for her and I know she feels hopeless right now, but I just have to have faith. I'm praying for a miracle tonight.
Yesterday, Eli (the baby) was hurt. His father was feeding him and the baby fell from his arms. He hit his head and lost consciousness and subsequently stopped breathing. By the time the ambulance had arrived, there was a significant loss of oxygen to the brain. They performed emergency surgery yesterday to relieve the hemmoraging and swelling, but things are not looking good. Eli is in critical condition in the PICU and the doctors are not giving him much of a chance to get through this. There is zero brain activity and he's hooked up to a bunch of machines, including a ventilator. Tomorrow morning, they're planning to take him off of the vent to see if he will breathe on his own.
This poor little baby. He's so perfect and tiny and the closest I will ever come to having a nephew. And my best friend - I cannot even begin to imagine the terror that she's going through right now. I only know how helpless I feel; being the best friend and seeing how much pain she is in and not being able to do anything to help her. I don't know how to help her, other than to be there for her and continue to let her know that I love her and I'm praying with all my heart for her and her son.
I can't begin to know what you all believe or what you can do, but any positivity you can offer is most appreciated. Prayers, positive vibes, good karma - she & Eli need it badly. I'm being as strong as I possibly can for her and I know she feels hopeless right now, but I just have to have faith. I'm praying for a miracle tonight.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
I'm at about 50%...
I always end up all over the place in these posts...I have so much to say, and just want to tell you everything! Perhaps if I posted more than once every two weeks, I wouldn't feel the need to jam it all into one post. Oh well. I do. Get over it. :-)
In one of my more recent posts, I discussed resolutions. I've been doing quite well with the church one. I've gone to mass every weekend since the beginning of the year. Granted, that's only three weeks, but it's 2 more weeks than the last time I thought I was ready to go back. And frankly, I don't see myself slacking on this one. I feel really good about it. That first Sunday, I went back to St. Charles Borromeo (SCB), the church that sort of reminds me of my old "home." It's about the same size and probably about the same age. They've got a choir (which is very important to me - I NEED to get back singing) and it's the closest. But I wanted to check out some of the other churches in the area, to make sure that I find the one that is right for me.
So, for the last two weeks, I attended mass at St. Mary's. I don't think I've ever seen a Catholic church this big. When I pulled into the parking lot, I literally out-loud, to myself, exclaimed 'Holy Crap!' It looked enormous to me. Inside is beautiful. Very, very large. It was built in 2001, so it has these modern-ish features. I don't know if I'd ever be comfortable in a parish that is so enormous. I've always enjoyed being a part of small things - small church, small(ish) high school, small colleges, small company. It does seem like St. Mary's has a lot to offer, including a choir (and a youth group that is looking for adult volunteers!). But I have to admit, I feel a bit overwhelmed there. And to be perfectly honest, the pews are really uncomfortable. lol They're low to the ground, and I find it near impossible to kneel on the kneelers. Maybe a silly con, but a con still.
This coming weekend and the week after, I'm planning on going to St. Catherine's, which a bit further (maybe 15 or 20 minutes from home), but I've heard a lot of good things about it. My aunt/uncle/cousins live in the area, so I asked for some suggestions. My aunt and cousin highly suggested this one, saying that they have a nice choir, youth programs, and while it's not a small church by any stretch, it's not as gigantic as St. Mary's. One of my coworkers told me that this is the church that she grew up going to and says that she likes it much more than SCB, where she had her children baptized. I'm really excited to go to mass at St. Catherine's on Sunday. I'm hoping that this one will be the perfect fit for me.
My second resolution - keeping better track of my sugar levels - is going okay. I'm testing at least once a day (supposed to do twice a day). I'm often surprised to see how high it is. Especially in the morning. I guess knowing is part of the battle, though. If I know it's high, I can be better prepared to combat it.
My final resolution - the same one that I have had every year since I was probably 9 - is stagnant. I just don't have motivation. I'm not hashing this out again. I'm just sayin...1.5 out of 3 isn't too bad, right? :-/
In other news, my birthday was a week ago today. It was really a fantabulous birthday! Seriously, best birthday in years. I must have gotten about 200 emails/facebook posts/blogs wishing me a happy birthday. I spent some extra time that morning and curled my hair, wore my favorite sweater and was ready for a happy day. Hubby texted me and told me to get home by 4, so that we could go to dinner. I got to work and my coworkers had decorated my desk (it's a tradition to do this, and usually I'm the one in charge of remembering bdays and buying a card & balloon). They got me the COOLEST balloon! It's bigger than your standard mylar balloon and it's clear! (I used to collect balloons in high school...Yeah, I'm an oddity of sorts...) I got to leave work a bit early, so I did a bit of shopping. Then went to dinner at Olive Garden with the Hubs. It was really a great day. It doesn't take much.
I spent a good part of Saturday working on my resume. I've finally decided to stop being passive about the whole situation and hoping that it gets better. I sent it to my dad, who gave me some suggestions on improving it, so I'm intending to update it later this week and perhaps start applying for some job openings next week. I'm nervous about it, but I need to at least see what's out there.
Today is 4 months since Opa passed. I still get choked up (and usually in tears) on a pretty regular basis. Songs do it for me a lot of the time. My birthday was kinda tough. But I guess I'm doing better. I talk to him a lot. Especially when I got teary eyed. I do feel his presence and I know he's always listening. So I take those moments to tell him how much I miss him and love him.
Hubby asked to go back to 2nd shift yesterday. He thinks his 1st shift boss is out to get him. I don't know what to think. He has a bad track record with authority figures (as in he pisses off his boss for some stupid shit and gets fired...), so if he thinks the boss might be heading down that road, then I'm supportive of the 2nd shift. I was really liking him on 1st, though. It's nice to spend time with him before bed. And to actually sleep with him at night. And to wake up together. I told him that I would've liked him to stay on 1st, but not if it means that he's going to end up without a job!
I think that's all I've got on news...I may be posting a meme next...We'll see. I really should be working right now. But I'm at a bit of a standstill with work tasks, so meme-ing sounds a lot more interesting. :-)
In one of my more recent posts, I discussed resolutions. I've been doing quite well with the church one. I've gone to mass every weekend since the beginning of the year. Granted, that's only three weeks, but it's 2 more weeks than the last time I thought I was ready to go back. And frankly, I don't see myself slacking on this one. I feel really good about it. That first Sunday, I went back to St. Charles Borromeo (SCB), the church that sort of reminds me of my old "home." It's about the same size and probably about the same age. They've got a choir (which is very important to me - I NEED to get back singing) and it's the closest. But I wanted to check out some of the other churches in the area, to make sure that I find the one that is right for me.
So, for the last two weeks, I attended mass at St. Mary's. I don't think I've ever seen a Catholic church this big. When I pulled into the parking lot, I literally out-loud, to myself, exclaimed 'Holy Crap!' It looked enormous to me. Inside is beautiful. Very, very large. It was built in 2001, so it has these modern-ish features. I don't know if I'd ever be comfortable in a parish that is so enormous. I've always enjoyed being a part of small things - small church, small(ish) high school, small colleges, small company. It does seem like St. Mary's has a lot to offer, including a choir (and a youth group that is looking for adult volunteers!). But I have to admit, I feel a bit overwhelmed there. And to be perfectly honest, the pews are really uncomfortable. lol They're low to the ground, and I find it near impossible to kneel on the kneelers. Maybe a silly con, but a con still.
This coming weekend and the week after, I'm planning on going to St. Catherine's, which a bit further (maybe 15 or 20 minutes from home), but I've heard a lot of good things about it. My aunt/uncle/cousins live in the area, so I asked for some suggestions. My aunt and cousin highly suggested this one, saying that they have a nice choir, youth programs, and while it's not a small church by any stretch, it's not as gigantic as St. Mary's. One of my coworkers told me that this is the church that she grew up going to and says that she likes it much more than SCB, where she had her children baptized. I'm really excited to go to mass at St. Catherine's on Sunday. I'm hoping that this one will be the perfect fit for me.
My second resolution - keeping better track of my sugar levels - is going okay. I'm testing at least once a day (supposed to do twice a day). I'm often surprised to see how high it is. Especially in the morning. I guess knowing is part of the battle, though. If I know it's high, I can be better prepared to combat it.
My final resolution - the same one that I have had every year since I was probably 9 - is stagnant. I just don't have motivation. I'm not hashing this out again. I'm just sayin...1.5 out of 3 isn't too bad, right? :-/
In other news, my birthday was a week ago today. It was really a fantabulous birthday! Seriously, best birthday in years. I must have gotten about 200 emails/facebook posts/blogs wishing me a happy birthday. I spent some extra time that morning and curled my hair, wore my favorite sweater and was ready for a happy day. Hubby texted me and told me to get home by 4, so that we could go to dinner. I got to work and my coworkers had decorated my desk (it's a tradition to do this, and usually I'm the one in charge of remembering bdays and buying a card & balloon). They got me the COOLEST balloon! It's bigger than your standard mylar balloon and it's clear! (I used to collect balloons in high school...Yeah, I'm an oddity of sorts...) I got to leave work a bit early, so I did a bit of shopping. Then went to dinner at Olive Garden with the Hubs. It was really a great day. It doesn't take much.
I spent a good part of Saturday working on my resume. I've finally decided to stop being passive about the whole situation and hoping that it gets better. I sent it to my dad, who gave me some suggestions on improving it, so I'm intending to update it later this week and perhaps start applying for some job openings next week. I'm nervous about it, but I need to at least see what's out there.
Today is 4 months since Opa passed. I still get choked up (and usually in tears) on a pretty regular basis. Songs do it for me a lot of the time. My birthday was kinda tough. But I guess I'm doing better. I talk to him a lot. Especially when I got teary eyed. I do feel his presence and I know he's always listening. So I take those moments to tell him how much I miss him and love him.
Hubby asked to go back to 2nd shift yesterday. He thinks his 1st shift boss is out to get him. I don't know what to think. He has a bad track record with authority figures (as in he pisses off his boss for some stupid shit and gets fired...), so if he thinks the boss might be heading down that road, then I'm supportive of the 2nd shift. I was really liking him on 1st, though. It's nice to spend time with him before bed. And to actually sleep with him at night. And to wake up together. I told him that I would've liked him to stay on 1st, but not if it means that he's going to end up without a job!
I think that's all I've got on news...I may be posting a meme next...We'll see. I really should be working right now. But I'm at a bit of a standstill with work tasks, so meme-ing sounds a lot more interesting. :-)
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Christmas Just Isn't What It Used to Be, and then some
Today was Christmas at my parents' house. It was not the best holiday gathering...Not a bad one, just a definite sense of sadness in the air. Hubby and I sat in the living room, chatting with my dad for a bit when we first arrived. After while, he helped her out of bed and we all sat by the Christmas tree, opening our gifts. We all tried to remain light hearted, but Omi was definitely having a difficult time. Little things set her off, and seeing the pain that she was feeling, just made my heart ache.
The last gift that was exchanged was a teeny, tiny little Cardinal ornament from my dad to my mom. My mom and grandparents are pretty avid bird watchers. Opa did everything that he could think of to set up bird feeders where my mom could see the birds from inside the house. He used to call cardinals 'Jose,' after a Cubs player from the 70's whose name was Jose Cardenal. As Omi unwrapped the ornament for my mom, she said 'Look at the cardinal, Jose.' And it just brought tears to my eyes and a lump in my throat. It was a reminder of Opa and the fact that he wasn't physically there with us. I looked away and tried to swallow it. I took a couple of deep breaths and turned back around, hoping no one had noticed. It's Christmas, I don't want to upset anyone, and we were all doing okay....But as Omi showed me the ornament, she looked in my eyes and we both just broke down. We hugged for a few minutes and both tried to compose ourselves. I went outside to get some fresh air and just struggled to get ahold of myself.
I just miss him more than I could ever imagine. Everyone told me that the holidays would be hard, but I didn't know. Each "event" is just harder than I could have guessed. Not having him with us, thinking about how he wasn't there to appreciate something as small as a cardinal ornament...When I stepped outside, Hubby followed me and asked if there was some significance to the ornament. He didn't understand why Omi and I would fall apart because of a bird. I tried to explain it to him, but I don't know if he gets it. I mean, he does. He knows what it's like to have that first holiday without a loved one. But...I don't know. He just deals with loss differently than I do. He's a much more realistic, logical person; whereas I am emotional and feeling. I guess that's part of the difference between men and women.
We moved on from gifts and meltdown mode and had a nice dinner together (my husband, choking the food down the whole time...lol I thought everything was excellent, but Hubby is a bit pickier than I). After dinner, we packed up our things and headed toward home.
Santa (and by Santa, I mostly mean my father) was very good to us this year. He purchased Hubby and I each a $500 bond. It's his way of kinda forcing us to start saving some money. It's good. We need to. He also got me a new flash for my camera and a new book for Hubby to listen to. Omi gave us a Christmas quilt (I will take a pic once I get it on my bed!), along with some baked goodies, a few other hand sewn items (potholders, coasters and pillow cases), some cash and a beautiful windchime that I can't wait to hang outside when the weather gets a bit nicer.
I hate being such a Debbie Downer. I really don't like feeling so low. This is a time to be happy and be with the people that you love. I guess it does make me realize how you truly have to appreciate the time that we DO have with our loved ones. Tell them that you love them. Hug and kiss them and make sure that there's no doubt. Cherish your time. Reach out to the people you love who you might not see or talk to as often as you'd like.
Let me change gears, so I can stop blubbering and end on a happier note...What do you have planned for tonight???? Any big parties??? I sure hope so!
We don't have any plans for tonight. Hubby might stay up til midnight playing his game and I think I'll try and lose myself in a movie or two.
What about resolutions? Do you make them? If so, do you stick to them???
I've never really been one for resolutions. Mostly because I know I won't stick to them. My resolutions always seem to be centered around changing some habit that is deeply ingrained. Let's be honest, huh? Those are not things that I can change overnight. I'm not going to wake up tomorrow morning and be a different person.
But I need something. A motivator. So here are my resolutions for the new year and hopefully for good:
1. I really, truly want to get back to Church. I went to mass one time, had this emotional, heart-lifting experience, and then I never went back. I hate doing things alone. I'm very self conscious. Hubby won't go with me and I don't know anyone here. I think our neighbors go to mass on Sundays. And probably to the church that I went to that one time. I intend to go to mass this Sunday. Maybe Tom & ....his wife whose name I can't remember... will be there.
2. I need to get better about monitoring my blood sugar levels. I'm "pre-diabetic"...Whatever that means. I think it was just a way of allowing me to get insurance, without saying that I'm diabetic. I take a mini shit-ton of medications to monitor my glucose levels. Last time I saw the doc, she gave me a new monitor and said that she could write a prescription for the testing supplies, so that I don't have to pay full price. So, I start testing and then stop like a week later. Why? Because I'm lazy? Or maybe because I don't like seeing the levels higher than they should be. I know that's a terrible reason. It's unhealthy and irresponsible. Hence, it's on my list of resolutions.
3. I NEED to lose weight. I think Hubby is FINALLY on board the baby train with me. But if it's going to happen, I need to grow up. I need to lose a least a little bit of weight. I'm never going to be thin or even just slightly overweight. I'm always going to be fat. I've never really had a major issue with that. But a little less fat might help things happen. JB from work recently told me that she joined a gym and she just does laps in the basketball court, rather than walking on the treadmill. Maybe I'll give that a shot?
I think that's it for my list. Three is plenty. I think the first two will be far less challenging than the last one. I'd like to find a buddy to keep me in line. Someone to meet me at the gym and help hold me accountable.
I hope you all are having a wonderful holiday season. And I hope that I will not have such a heavy heart for Christmas 2010. I wish you all a belated Merry Christmas and a happy and safe New Year!!!
The last gift that was exchanged was a teeny, tiny little Cardinal ornament from my dad to my mom. My mom and grandparents are pretty avid bird watchers. Opa did everything that he could think of to set up bird feeders where my mom could see the birds from inside the house. He used to call cardinals 'Jose,' after a Cubs player from the 70's whose name was Jose Cardenal. As Omi unwrapped the ornament for my mom, she said 'Look at the cardinal, Jose.' And it just brought tears to my eyes and a lump in my throat. It was a reminder of Opa and the fact that he wasn't physically there with us. I looked away and tried to swallow it. I took a couple of deep breaths and turned back around, hoping no one had noticed. It's Christmas, I don't want to upset anyone, and we were all doing okay....But as Omi showed me the ornament, she looked in my eyes and we both just broke down. We hugged for a few minutes and both tried to compose ourselves. I went outside to get some fresh air and just struggled to get ahold of myself.
I just miss him more than I could ever imagine. Everyone told me that the holidays would be hard, but I didn't know. Each "event" is just harder than I could have guessed. Not having him with us, thinking about how he wasn't there to appreciate something as small as a cardinal ornament...When I stepped outside, Hubby followed me and asked if there was some significance to the ornament. He didn't understand why Omi and I would fall apart because of a bird. I tried to explain it to him, but I don't know if he gets it. I mean, he does. He knows what it's like to have that first holiday without a loved one. But...I don't know. He just deals with loss differently than I do. He's a much more realistic, logical person; whereas I am emotional and feeling. I guess that's part of the difference between men and women.
We moved on from gifts and meltdown mode and had a nice dinner together (my husband, choking the food down the whole time...lol I thought everything was excellent, but Hubby is a bit pickier than I). After dinner, we packed up our things and headed toward home.
Santa (and by Santa, I mostly mean my father) was very good to us this year. He purchased Hubby and I each a $500 bond. It's his way of kinda forcing us to start saving some money. It's good. We need to. He also got me a new flash for my camera and a new book for Hubby to listen to. Omi gave us a Christmas quilt (I will take a pic once I get it on my bed!), along with some baked goodies, a few other hand sewn items (potholders, coasters and pillow cases), some cash and a beautiful windchime that I can't wait to hang outside when the weather gets a bit nicer.
I hate being such a Debbie Downer. I really don't like feeling so low. This is a time to be happy and be with the people that you love. I guess it does make me realize how you truly have to appreciate the time that we DO have with our loved ones. Tell them that you love them. Hug and kiss them and make sure that there's no doubt. Cherish your time. Reach out to the people you love who you might not see or talk to as often as you'd like.
Let me change gears, so I can stop blubbering and end on a happier note...What do you have planned for tonight???? Any big parties??? I sure hope so!
We don't have any plans for tonight. Hubby might stay up til midnight playing his game and I think I'll try and lose myself in a movie or two.
What about resolutions? Do you make them? If so, do you stick to them???
I've never really been one for resolutions. Mostly because I know I won't stick to them. My resolutions always seem to be centered around changing some habit that is deeply ingrained. Let's be honest, huh? Those are not things that I can change overnight. I'm not going to wake up tomorrow morning and be a different person.
But I need something. A motivator. So here are my resolutions for the new year and hopefully for good:
1. I really, truly want to get back to Church. I went to mass one time, had this emotional, heart-lifting experience, and then I never went back. I hate doing things alone. I'm very self conscious. Hubby won't go with me and I don't know anyone here. I think our neighbors go to mass on Sundays. And probably to the church that I went to that one time. I intend to go to mass this Sunday. Maybe Tom & ....his wife whose name I can't remember... will be there.
2. I need to get better about monitoring my blood sugar levels. I'm "pre-diabetic"...Whatever that means. I think it was just a way of allowing me to get insurance, without saying that I'm diabetic. I take a mini shit-ton of medications to monitor my glucose levels. Last time I saw the doc, she gave me a new monitor and said that she could write a prescription for the testing supplies, so that I don't have to pay full price. So, I start testing and then stop like a week later. Why? Because I'm lazy? Or maybe because I don't like seeing the levels higher than they should be. I know that's a terrible reason. It's unhealthy and irresponsible. Hence, it's on my list of resolutions.
3. I NEED to lose weight. I think Hubby is FINALLY on board the baby train with me. But if it's going to happen, I need to grow up. I need to lose a least a little bit of weight. I'm never going to be thin or even just slightly overweight. I'm always going to be fat. I've never really had a major issue with that. But a little less fat might help things happen. JB from work recently told me that she joined a gym and she just does laps in the basketball court, rather than walking on the treadmill. Maybe I'll give that a shot?
I think that's it for my list. Three is plenty. I think the first two will be far less challenging than the last one. I'd like to find a buddy to keep me in line. Someone to meet me at the gym and help hold me accountable.
I hope you all are having a wonderful holiday season. And I hope that I will not have such a heavy heart for Christmas 2010. I wish you all a belated Merry Christmas and a happy and safe New Year!!!
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Cryin' for Me
Today is two months since one of the most influential and incredible people in my life passed away. I still can't quite grasp the concept that he's no longer with us. The first thought that came into my head when my dad told me that Opa had passed away was 'Who will carve the turkey on Thanksgiving?' and that was enough to make the world come crashing down around me.
Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays. I love getting together with family that I haven't seen in a while. I love most of the traditional Turkey Day foods. I love listening to all the same stories that I hear year after year, reminiscing about years past. I don't think my family's going to do Thanksgiving this year. My mom doesn't eat anymore, Opa's not with us. My dad and Omi would be making some huge feast for four of us. I just don't think it's going to happen. We'll probably go see Hubby's family for the holiday. Which would be okay. I guess it'll be a nice relief that we don't have to eat twice. But I'm just very sad about the whole thing. I don't know. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe my dad will have his brother and his daughter over. Maybe Omi will invite Opa's sister. We'll see.
Last night, on my way home from a very long day at work, I heard this song on the radio and couldn't control myself. It just says everything that I have been feeling. I'm not cryin 'cause I feel so sorry for you, I'm cryin' for me.
Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays. I love getting together with family that I haven't seen in a while. I love most of the traditional Turkey Day foods. I love listening to all the same stories that I hear year after year, reminiscing about years past. I don't think my family's going to do Thanksgiving this year. My mom doesn't eat anymore, Opa's not with us. My dad and Omi would be making some huge feast for four of us. I just don't think it's going to happen. We'll probably go see Hubby's family for the holiday. Which would be okay. I guess it'll be a nice relief that we don't have to eat twice. But I'm just very sad about the whole thing. I don't know. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe my dad will have his brother and his daughter over. Maybe Omi will invite Opa's sister. We'll see.
Last night, on my way home from a very long day at work, I heard this song on the radio and couldn't control myself. It just says everything that I have been feeling. I'm not cryin 'cause I feel so sorry for you, I'm cryin' for me.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Memories
Today was Opa's memorial Service. Omi held it at the church that she attends. There were a couple of hymns sung and bibles verses read. After the Gospel and meditation, I was called up to give what I understand now to have been his euology. When Omi asked me to speak, I didn't realize that i'd be the only one. I also didn't realize how difficult it would be to read those words in front of so many people. I found myself focusing on the people who matter so much to me - Omi & my parents. It wasn't so much the words that were hard to say. What made it so difficult was Omi's eyes, staring into mine. I wanted her to know how sorry I am for our loss. I made it through my speech, though barely breathing and choking on a lump in my throat.
After the service, a lot of people came up to me and told me what a nice job I'd done. I thanked them, feeling good that I'd been able to share a little bit of what an amazing man he was to me. A number of people also commented on how brave I'd been to do that. I never even thought of it being about bravity. Omi asked me and I couldn't have imagined saying anything other than yes. Opa always complimented me on how well he thought I did with public speaking. I was able to project my voice and he, terribly hard of hearing, even with hearing aids, was able to understand what I was saying. He used to watch the baseball games on tv with the sound muted because all he could hear was noise. But when I spoke, he was able to hear me loud & clear. I feel like my getting up there today would have made him proud. I feel like he would've given me a pat on the shoulder and said 'That was pretty good, Jennifer. You did a nice job.'
Hubby did a great job. He made sure that he was ready on time, we left early and were 30 minutes early at the church. He held my hand and reminded me to breathe. When I finished speaking, and got back to my seat, that's sort of when I lost it. I just held his hand and tried to keep myself from sobbing.
I felt so many things as I sat in that church today. I felt such grief and sadness for myself. For my uncle, as I watched him with his head down, crying into his hands. For my dad, who so admired and loved his father-in-law. For my mom, who felt as much love and devotion from her father as I do mine. And for Omi, who I suspect I am a lot like. I felt anger toward my uncle's ex wife and her fake ass boyfriend. I felt sympathy for my cousins for not having the opportunities to know Opa like I did. I was so grateful for my husband and for Melissa.
At the luncheon, a family friend, Herbie, took the microphone and wanted to tell a little story about some shenanigans that went down at my wedding. Omi had stayed at my parents' house with my mom during my wedding reception because my mom was just not strong enough to be there. In order to let my dad be there, Omi stayed with Mom. And since Opa was dateless, Herbie grabbed his fancy dancy camera and had Opa go around to every table and each woman took a picture, giving him a kiss on the cheek. Herbie said that he later found out that Opa said it'd been one of the happiest days of his life. lol
After the service, a lot of people came up to me and told me what a nice job I'd done. I thanked them, feeling good that I'd been able to share a little bit of what an amazing man he was to me. A number of people also commented on how brave I'd been to do that. I never even thought of it being about bravity. Omi asked me and I couldn't have imagined saying anything other than yes. Opa always complimented me on how well he thought I did with public speaking. I was able to project my voice and he, terribly hard of hearing, even with hearing aids, was able to understand what I was saying. He used to watch the baseball games on tv with the sound muted because all he could hear was noise. But when I spoke, he was able to hear me loud & clear. I feel like my getting up there today would have made him proud. I feel like he would've given me a pat on the shoulder and said 'That was pretty good, Jennifer. You did a nice job.'
Hubby did a great job. He made sure that he was ready on time, we left early and were 30 minutes early at the church. He held my hand and reminded me to breathe. When I finished speaking, and got back to my seat, that's sort of when I lost it. I just held his hand and tried to keep myself from sobbing.
I felt so many things as I sat in that church today. I felt such grief and sadness for myself. For my uncle, as I watched him with his head down, crying into his hands. For my dad, who so admired and loved his father-in-law. For my mom, who felt as much love and devotion from her father as I do mine. And for Omi, who I suspect I am a lot like. I felt anger toward my uncle's ex wife and her fake ass boyfriend. I felt sympathy for my cousins for not having the opportunities to know Opa like I did. I was so grateful for my husband and for Melissa.
At the luncheon, a family friend, Herbie, took the microphone and wanted to tell a little story about some shenanigans that went down at my wedding. Omi had stayed at my parents' house with my mom during my wedding reception because my mom was just not strong enough to be there. In order to let my dad be there, Omi stayed with Mom. And since Opa was dateless, Herbie grabbed his fancy dancy camera and had Opa go around to every table and each woman took a picture, giving him a kiss on the cheek. Herbie said that he later found out that Opa said it'd been one of the happiest days of his life. lol
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Warning: Negativity Ahead
I'm in a real funk lately...I just kinda feel like everything sucks. I have good, smiley moments. But most of the time, I'm just feeling like I'm down in the dumps. Life is not good right now. We don't have money, creditors/bill collectors are calling me nonstop. We're on hold with the refi, which is mostly the reason that the bills are going unpaid. I'm holding on to our cash to make sure we have enough to cover the mortgage, if we have to. My grandfather is gone. The future of my job is unknown. I just feel like I have nothing to look forward to. I'm just in such a negative mood. Last night, I seriously considered crawling into the corner of the closet and staying there. I know how ridiculous that sounds. Believe me. But at the same time, it sounds so much more comforting than dealing with everything.
I hate feeling like this. I don't usually consider myself a negative person. I really do think I'm a glass half full kind of girl. But I just can't shake this feeling of sadness. I don't know. Maybe it's how I'm dealing with Opa's passing. Maybe it's how I'm dealing with all of the shit. I just feel like everything is crappy. I shuffle through my work day, not really investing myself in the work. Pretty much just doing whatever I need to do to get through the day and meet deadlines. And even with that, I'm getting fucked over. But that's been going on for a while. Normally, I would look forward to going home and making dinner, spending some time with my tv shows and my kitties. I don't even feel like doing that much anymore. I don't have time to make dinner, since I don't get home til 6 at the earliest. I just make some bullshit and go to bed at 8 or 9, whenever Hubby gets sleepy.
Yesterday was our 3 year anniversary. I got stuck at work late, even though I came in early, and then Hubby didn't want to make dinner, asked me to bring home some drivethru shit. So, I did. We ate together, watched The Office and then were in bed by 7:45. We laid there, chatting for an hour, and when he rolled over to go to sleep, I couldn't sleep. I laid there and just started crying. I just feel so sad about everything. I wish I could go back to a time in my life where things weren't like this. Where I didn't feel like the weight of the world was on my shoulders. It's so ridiculous. I know there are so many people that are so much worse off. I'm sure that I have plenty of reasons to be positive about life. But I just can't seem to focus on anything other than the negative.
Really, if I could just crawl into a hole and stay there for a few months...That would be awesome. Let this whole work thing play out however it's going to. Maybe the pain that I feel about Opa wouldn't be so fresh and wouldn't hurt so much. Maybe someone else could worry about the bills and the house and the shitting cat. Maybe I could mysteriously get knocked up. Maybe I could lose some weight. I wouldn't need to eat...It would be like hibernating...
I know this post is totally disjointed and perhaps redundant. I just needed to get it out there. Maybe if I dump it all on my blog, it won't be in my GD head so much.
Nice 100th post, huh?
I hate feeling like this. I don't usually consider myself a negative person. I really do think I'm a glass half full kind of girl. But I just can't shake this feeling of sadness. I don't know. Maybe it's how I'm dealing with Opa's passing. Maybe it's how I'm dealing with all of the shit. I just feel like everything is crappy. I shuffle through my work day, not really investing myself in the work. Pretty much just doing whatever I need to do to get through the day and meet deadlines. And even with that, I'm getting fucked over. But that's been going on for a while. Normally, I would look forward to going home and making dinner, spending some time with my tv shows and my kitties. I don't even feel like doing that much anymore. I don't have time to make dinner, since I don't get home til 6 at the earliest. I just make some bullshit and go to bed at 8 or 9, whenever Hubby gets sleepy.
Yesterday was our 3 year anniversary. I got stuck at work late, even though I came in early, and then Hubby didn't want to make dinner, asked me to bring home some drivethru shit. So, I did. We ate together, watched The Office and then were in bed by 7:45. We laid there, chatting for an hour, and when he rolled over to go to sleep, I couldn't sleep. I laid there and just started crying. I just feel so sad about everything. I wish I could go back to a time in my life where things weren't like this. Where I didn't feel like the weight of the world was on my shoulders. It's so ridiculous. I know there are so many people that are so much worse off. I'm sure that I have plenty of reasons to be positive about life. But I just can't seem to focus on anything other than the negative.
Really, if I could just crawl into a hole and stay there for a few months...That would be awesome. Let this whole work thing play out however it's going to. Maybe the pain that I feel about Opa wouldn't be so fresh and wouldn't hurt so much. Maybe someone else could worry about the bills and the house and the shitting cat. Maybe I could mysteriously get knocked up. Maybe I could lose some weight. I wouldn't need to eat...It would be like hibernating...
I know this post is totally disjointed and perhaps redundant. I just needed to get it out there. Maybe if I dump it all on my blog, it won't be in my GD head so much.
Nice 100th post, huh?
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Oh, the day from hell...
Today has just been one shit storm after another...Started off bright and early, when my alarm went off at 5. My husband so kindly (No sarcasm...I did appreciate it) hit the snooze for me, so I wouldn't have to get out of bed. He was gone ten minutes later when it went off again. I got up, shut off the alarm and got my phone so I could check my email. Went downstairs, had some breakfast and a cup of coffee. Everything was going so nicely...
And then I left the house. Started out late for my dentist appointment. The place is literally less than 10 minutes from my house, but I can never get there on time. Then, I sat through an hour and a half of rooting around in my mouth, so I could get three new fillings. yay. I left there, thinking that would be the worst of it. My face was completely numb on the right side, I felt like I was drooling and was certain that when I blinked, my right eye was staying completely open.
As I drove to work, I tried to call work to let them know I was on my way. However, I was informed at that point that my service had been suspended due to an unpaid bill. awesome.
I pull into the parking lot at work, and notice that there's a lot of people milling about outside. Oh look! A fire drill. Luckily, I didn't have to deal with that in any way. I drove down into the parking garage, took the elevator up to the main floor and walked up just as the rest of my coworkers were coming in from outside. Apparently, if you behaved, you were rewarded with a sucker. No sucker for me. boo.
Just as I was getting settled in for the morning, the office phone rang. I answered it (because the programmers are too cool to answer the phone, ya know...) and it was the loan officer that FINALLY called me ysterday to say that we'd been approved for the refi and would be closing later this week. Yeah, not so much. He was calling me this morning to let me know that because we paid the September payment on October 1, we're fucked. And can I just mention that this late payment was the LOAN OFFICER'S fault!?!?!!? I started going through this shit again on September 2nd. He tells me on the 25th that we're not going to be able to close in Septmber. Dude, do you really think I have 2 grand just laying around? I had to wait until Hubby got paid, which didn't happen until the 1st. Loan officer tells me to call the current mortgage company and ask if they can help me out. I get transferred around a couple times and hung up on once. Finally, I speak to someone that I can understand. And she tells me that she'll put in a work order and I'll find out in up to 15 business days if they can remove the 30 days past due from my account. WTF? Seriously? The payment was due on Sept 1. I paid it exactly 30 days later. Please help me. I call Loan Officer back, tell him the deal and he says okay, then we just wait. super.
I call the cell phone people, have them turn my service back on, after making a payment (managed to get that taken care of before Hubby found out. Thank the LORD!). Get back to work. Manage to get some work done and then Hubby calls and is like WTF are you talking about? Why isn't the refi gonna go through? And then I have to explain the whole thing to him more than once. We get off the phone, but he's pissed. At me.
Two hours later, he calls back, much calmer, after having talked with his mom and sharing all of our business with her. Whatever. If that's what it takes to have him realize that a. this is not ALL my fault and b. he needs to accept some responsibility, then fine. Let her be all up in our shit. After we talk out the whole mortgage/bills/money thing, he starts telling me about how he wants to move the litter boxes. He wants to put them in a storage closet and put a doggy door on the door to the closet. He'll close off the back part of the closet, so that they can only get to the boxes, but not the rest of the junk in there. I didn't feel like talking about any of this, so I told him we could discuss later. Five minutes later, he sends me a text that the damn cat took another steaming shit on our bed. fuck.
I don't know what the hell is going on with that cat. He pees and poops on the furniture. This is not something new. He's been doing it for years. I don't know why. I've taken him to several vets and no one ever has any solid suggestions. Change his food. Pay more attention to him. Give him kitty valium. And my husband's suggestion...put him to sleep. Is that going to be his suggestion when his child wets the bed?
I wrote this post yesterday, at the end of a horrendous day. And then it was all put into perspective when I found out that a friend had a miscarriage over the weekend (she was about 7 weeks along). I guess that while my day was pretty darn shitty, when you look at the big picture, an unpaid bill and some poop on the bed is pretty insignificant. Here's to having a better day today.
And then I left the house. Started out late for my dentist appointment. The place is literally less than 10 minutes from my house, but I can never get there on time. Then, I sat through an hour and a half of rooting around in my mouth, so I could get three new fillings. yay. I left there, thinking that would be the worst of it. My face was completely numb on the right side, I felt like I was drooling and was certain that when I blinked, my right eye was staying completely open.
As I drove to work, I tried to call work to let them know I was on my way. However, I was informed at that point that my service had been suspended due to an unpaid bill. awesome.
I pull into the parking lot at work, and notice that there's a lot of people milling about outside. Oh look! A fire drill. Luckily, I didn't have to deal with that in any way. I drove down into the parking garage, took the elevator up to the main floor and walked up just as the rest of my coworkers were coming in from outside. Apparently, if you behaved, you were rewarded with a sucker. No sucker for me. boo.
Just as I was getting settled in for the morning, the office phone rang. I answered it (because the programmers are too cool to answer the phone, ya know...) and it was the loan officer that FINALLY called me ysterday to say that we'd been approved for the refi and would be closing later this week. Yeah, not so much. He was calling me this morning to let me know that because we paid the September payment on October 1, we're fucked. And can I just mention that this late payment was the LOAN OFFICER'S fault!?!?!!? I started going through this shit again on September 2nd. He tells me on the 25th that we're not going to be able to close in Septmber. Dude, do you really think I have 2 grand just laying around? I had to wait until Hubby got paid, which didn't happen until the 1st. Loan officer tells me to call the current mortgage company and ask if they can help me out. I get transferred around a couple times and hung up on once. Finally, I speak to someone that I can understand. And she tells me that she'll put in a work order and I'll find out in up to 15 business days if they can remove the 30 days past due from my account. WTF? Seriously? The payment was due on Sept 1. I paid it exactly 30 days later. Please help me. I call Loan Officer back, tell him the deal and he says okay, then we just wait. super.
I call the cell phone people, have them turn my service back on, after making a payment (managed to get that taken care of before Hubby found out. Thank the LORD!). Get back to work. Manage to get some work done and then Hubby calls and is like WTF are you talking about? Why isn't the refi gonna go through? And then I have to explain the whole thing to him more than once. We get off the phone, but he's pissed. At me.
Two hours later, he calls back, much calmer, after having talked with his mom and sharing all of our business with her. Whatever. If that's what it takes to have him realize that a. this is not ALL my fault and b. he needs to accept some responsibility, then fine. Let her be all up in our shit. After we talk out the whole mortgage/bills/money thing, he starts telling me about how he wants to move the litter boxes. He wants to put them in a storage closet and put a doggy door on the door to the closet. He'll close off the back part of the closet, so that they can only get to the boxes, but not the rest of the junk in there. I didn't feel like talking about any of this, so I told him we could discuss later. Five minutes later, he sends me a text that the damn cat took another steaming shit on our bed. fuck.
I don't know what the hell is going on with that cat. He pees and poops on the furniture. This is not something new. He's been doing it for years. I don't know why. I've taken him to several vets and no one ever has any solid suggestions. Change his food. Pay more attention to him. Give him kitty valium. And my husband's suggestion...put him to sleep. Is that going to be his suggestion when his child wets the bed?
I wrote this post yesterday, at the end of a horrendous day. And then it was all put into perspective when I found out that a friend had a miscarriage over the weekend (she was about 7 weeks along). I guess that while my day was pretty darn shitty, when you look at the big picture, an unpaid bill and some poop on the bed is pretty insignificant. Here's to having a better day today.
Friday, October 9, 2009
Three Weeks
Wow...I can't believe it's been three weeks, already. It's incredible to me how quickly the time has gone by.
I guess I can say that things have gotten a bit easier. Or maybe it's just easier to push those sad thoughts to another corner of my brain while I try to get other things done. Because honestly, as soon as I think about Opa not being there, tears fill my eyes and I've got to swallow a lump the size of my ass, just to keep from breaking into sobs.
Omi called on Friday and told me that she's going to have the Memorial Service on the 25th. She asked me if I would speak at the services. I told her that I would, and through her tears, she asked me to tell some funny stories from when I was a kid. I was thinking about sharing one of our old knock knock jokes and maybe some of the tidbits that I shared in my blog the morning Daddy told me he'd passed.
I don't know if I've fully come to terms with him being gone. Since we haven't had any services, it just doesn't feel real to me. The time that I've spent at Mom & Dad's house just felt like he was at his own house, while Omi, Mom & I played dice and painted Mom's fingernails. No one talked about it. No one cried. We just went about life as if nothing had changed.
I'm really nervous about speaking at the memorial. I know that it will be good for me and for others to hear happy stories about him. But it just makes me sad that he's not there to remember those stories with us. I miss him so much...It's not like I saw him all the time. Three weeks is actually a pretty short amount of time to have gone by between visits. But the knowing that he won't be there the next time...I never truly understood what it meant to lose someone. To feel that sadness. I feel like words can't even express how much it hurts...To say I'm sad about the loss...It's so understated. I'm sad that the stupid Cubs can't pull their shit together to win a series. I'm sad that I have to spend most of my paycheck every week on bills. To say I'm sad about losing Opa? It just doesn't measure up.
I have so much shit going on in my life right now. Besides dealing with this, things at work are really up in the air. The week that Opa passed, we had people from the company that is buying from Bossman Bob in the office. They talked about employment contracts and benefits and the future of the company. They've decided to sign the 18 month employment contract for the 5 core team members. I am not a part of this core team. I also get NO sort of employment guarantee or anything. They're saying that we'll all keep our jobs, but they're unwilling to extend some kind of offer (not even an increased severance package) to the remaining three of us. They keep talking about how they want to grow the business and improve the software. How everything's going to be hunky dorey. I feel like I'd have to be an idiot to just blindly believe that everything's going to be okay for me.
So, I've been looking online for job postings. Talking to friends about openings where they work. I need to update my resume pronto. My dad is worried that I'm going to wait around and get canned and then it'll be too late. It's a gamble, ya know? On one hand, I go out looking for jobs and get an offer for a really good job, paying about the same as what I'm getting now, but I start over. I'm bottom of the barrel again. I have to learn all new tasks, get to know a whole new group of coworkers, develop a new routine. On the other hand, I could stay with my current company, and if things go well, I could end up having an important role in the development of the company. If they're serious about building up the company, it'd be good to get in early, right? There's so much more room for opportunity, that's what the core 5 team members keep telling the other three of us. But it also could go terribly wrong and I could end up laid off, with three weeks severance and then what? Unemployment until I find something that's maybe as good as what I was doing/making. Hubby's income plus unemployment is not going to be enough to cover our bills. I can't wait for that shoe to drop. I need to be proactive. I need to go out and find the next big thing. And just hope that it provides a better, more stable future for myself.
Anyway, my bad for being a little all over the place. Hope everyone's doing well. I've been a terrible blogger/blog reader lately. Sorry, ya'll. One of these days, I'll get back into the swing of things. Until then...
I guess I can say that things have gotten a bit easier. Or maybe it's just easier to push those sad thoughts to another corner of my brain while I try to get other things done. Because honestly, as soon as I think about Opa not being there, tears fill my eyes and I've got to swallow a lump the size of my ass, just to keep from breaking into sobs.
Omi called on Friday and told me that she's going to have the Memorial Service on the 25th. She asked me if I would speak at the services. I told her that I would, and through her tears, she asked me to tell some funny stories from when I was a kid. I was thinking about sharing one of our old knock knock jokes and maybe some of the tidbits that I shared in my blog the morning Daddy told me he'd passed.
I don't know if I've fully come to terms with him being gone. Since we haven't had any services, it just doesn't feel real to me. The time that I've spent at Mom & Dad's house just felt like he was at his own house, while Omi, Mom & I played dice and painted Mom's fingernails. No one talked about it. No one cried. We just went about life as if nothing had changed.
I'm really nervous about speaking at the memorial. I know that it will be good for me and for others to hear happy stories about him. But it just makes me sad that he's not there to remember those stories with us. I miss him so much...It's not like I saw him all the time. Three weeks is actually a pretty short amount of time to have gone by between visits. But the knowing that he won't be there the next time...I never truly understood what it meant to lose someone. To feel that sadness. I feel like words can't even express how much it hurts...To say I'm sad about the loss...It's so understated. I'm sad that the stupid Cubs can't pull their shit together to win a series. I'm sad that I have to spend most of my paycheck every week on bills. To say I'm sad about losing Opa? It just doesn't measure up.
I have so much shit going on in my life right now. Besides dealing with this, things at work are really up in the air. The week that Opa passed, we had people from the company that is buying from Bossman Bob in the office. They talked about employment contracts and benefits and the future of the company. They've decided to sign the 18 month employment contract for the 5 core team members. I am not a part of this core team. I also get NO sort of employment guarantee or anything. They're saying that we'll all keep our jobs, but they're unwilling to extend some kind of offer (not even an increased severance package) to the remaining three of us. They keep talking about how they want to grow the business and improve the software. How everything's going to be hunky dorey. I feel like I'd have to be an idiot to just blindly believe that everything's going to be okay for me.
So, I've been looking online for job postings. Talking to friends about openings where they work. I need to update my resume pronto. My dad is worried that I'm going to wait around and get canned and then it'll be too late. It's a gamble, ya know? On one hand, I go out looking for jobs and get an offer for a really good job, paying about the same as what I'm getting now, but I start over. I'm bottom of the barrel again. I have to learn all new tasks, get to know a whole new group of coworkers, develop a new routine. On the other hand, I could stay with my current company, and if things go well, I could end up having an important role in the development of the company. If they're serious about building up the company, it'd be good to get in early, right? There's so much more room for opportunity, that's what the core 5 team members keep telling the other three of us. But it also could go terribly wrong and I could end up laid off, with three weeks severance and then what? Unemployment until I find something that's maybe as good as what I was doing/making. Hubby's income plus unemployment is not going to be enough to cover our bills. I can't wait for that shoe to drop. I need to be proactive. I need to go out and find the next big thing. And just hope that it provides a better, more stable future for myself.
Anyway, my bad for being a little all over the place. Hope everyone's doing well. I've been a terrible blogger/blog reader lately. Sorry, ya'll. One of these days, I'll get back into the swing of things. Until then...
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
My Old Friend
On my way to work yesterday, this song was playing. I heard the tail end of it and was immediately in tears. It really is so appropriate...
Last week was a bit rough. I spent most of Monday in tears. My whole drive home from work that night, I sobbed. I tried to talk it out, hoping that Opa would hear the words, wherever he is. Tuesday was a little better. I took the rest of the week off and spent a couple days at home with my parents and Omi. My mom and Omi are both handling the loss so much better than I thought either of them would. Granted, three days had passed between his passing and the first day I'd seen them. Perhaps they had cried it all out, too. Or maybe they were both just putting on brave faces for me. It's been over a week and while I do still have my moments where I just want to bury my face in a pillow and cry, I'm doing okay.
We haven't had a service or anything yet. My grandparents both decided that they want to be cremated. I believe Omi has an urn at home. She wants to have a very small, "by invitation only" memorial service. I don't know when it's going to be or what she plans to do.
I guess every day gets a little easier. If I just stay busy and don't think about it, everything's okay. But then I have a moment like this where I hear a song and I feel so sad all over again. I miss and love him very much...
Last week was a bit rough. I spent most of Monday in tears. My whole drive home from work that night, I sobbed. I tried to talk it out, hoping that Opa would hear the words, wherever he is. Tuesday was a little better. I took the rest of the week off and spent a couple days at home with my parents and Omi. My mom and Omi are both handling the loss so much better than I thought either of them would. Granted, three days had passed between his passing and the first day I'd seen them. Perhaps they had cried it all out, too. Or maybe they were both just putting on brave faces for me. It's been over a week and while I do still have my moments where I just want to bury my face in a pillow and cry, I'm doing okay.
We haven't had a service or anything yet. My grandparents both decided that they want to be cremated. I believe Omi has an urn at home. She wants to have a very small, "by invitation only" memorial service. I don't know when it's going to be or what she plans to do.
I guess every day gets a little easier. If I just stay busy and don't think about it, everything's okay. But then I have a moment like this where I hear a song and I feel so sad all over again. I miss and love him very much...
Sunday, September 20, 2009
We were always such good friends, weren't we?
Opa used to tell me that all the time: 'Jennifer was always my good friend.' He's never been a man of many words. He let Omi do all the talking for him, but he's always had such a wonderful attitude. He was always the one that could make my mom laugh. I can remember them going on for what seemed like hours, laughing at some inside joke between the two of them. He always had such a broad grin on his face and when I think about it, I really do feel like he lit up the room.
When I was little, before they moved back to the south burbs, we used to go visit Omi & Opa's house. If he happened to be working in the yard, he'd give me wheelbarrow rides around the yard. There was one occasion, where he took me to a park and while he pushed me on the swing, his wallet fell out of his pocket. Being the observant girl that I was, I noticed it and told him right away. That was one of those memories that stuck out in his head. Bringing it up every once in a while. When I'd go stay with them for a weekend, he always tucked me in at night. And we would tell one another stories until I fell asleep. I couldn't tell you what any of the stories were about, but I remember laughing with him like crazy. He had little Polish nicknames for me and was always so happy to see me.
When they moved to the area, Opa was my compadre a lot of the time. We used to go on bike rides all over the neighborhood. Exploring new streets, riding up and down the hills by the golf course. I would ride my bike over to their condo and ride up to the back door. I'd park my bike on the patio and holler in the backdoor that I was there. We'd sit down and drink bootleg orange soda and play cards or dice.
When I got a bit older, I used to go on those long winding bike rides on my own. One time, I was about a mile from the house and I flipped my bike, injuring myself and the bike so badly that there was no way I'd be able to ride home. Being that cell phones weren't around yet, I panicked. I walked myself to the nearest house and asked to use their telephone. I called home and in ten minutes or so, Opa showed up to bring me and my busted bike back home.
He also came to the rescue when I was in high school and fell into the bumper boat pool at work. I was soaked from head to toe and just happened to be without a car that day. He came and picked me up in my wet clothes, brought me back home to change and then drove me back to work.
We had a piano in my basement when I was growing up. The man had never taken a lesson in his life, but he was a natural artist. He had a tune in his head and he picked out the right keys to play the song. Later in life, he began painting. He'd just use scrap pieces of wood and paint beautiful things on them. When he & Omi asked me what I wanted from them as a wedding gift, I told them I wanted a painting from Opa. I didn't care what it was of, just that it had come from him and most importantly, that it was signed by him. They gave me the painting at my bridal shower. And I almost immediately started crying. It's a beautiful flower, and it's hung in my home ever since.
Opa passed away last night. He's been very sick for the last few months. In a lot of pain. When I went to see him a couple weeks ago, he just was not the man that has been such an important part of my life. When I turned ten, he told me that on the day I was born, he asked God to let him live long enough to see me turn 10 years old. Not only did God grant him that prayer, he gave him another 17 years in my life. Opa saw not only me turn ten, but his three other granddaughters, as well. He was there for my high school graduation, my graduation from college and my wedding day. He came out to see my first house and told me how proud of me he was.
I'm going to miss him so much.
I love you, Opa.
Ignatius Bernard Kowalsky
4/12/22 - 9/19/09
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
White Knot
This morning on my favorite radio show, Drex did a segment on gay marriage and civil unions. And I cried.
Who am I (or anyone else, for that matter) to say whether or not Bob and Fred should be allowed to be married. I recognize that the Church doesn't support gay marriage. And that's fine. But why shouldn't two men or two women be allowed to go to a courthouse and be married?
There's so much hate and animosity in the world. Why do we have to stifle what little love actually survives?
Every time the topic of gay marriage comes up, I'm flooded with emotions. I feel so bad for the people who aren't allowed to marry the man or woman that they love. Why does it matter to someone else? It isn't fair and it's time to change.
At one time in this country's history, people weren't allowed to marry outside their own race. Women couldn't vote. And enough people realized that these issues were unfair and unfounded. I think it's time to do the same for this issue.
In my right sidebar, there's a link to White-Knot.org. Go there. Show your support. Lets help make a change for the better. Please!
Who am I (or anyone else, for that matter) to say whether or not Bob and Fred should be allowed to be married. I recognize that the Church doesn't support gay marriage. And that's fine. But why shouldn't two men or two women be allowed to go to a courthouse and be married?
There's so much hate and animosity in the world. Why do we have to stifle what little love actually survives?
Every time the topic of gay marriage comes up, I'm flooded with emotions. I feel so bad for the people who aren't allowed to marry the man or woman that they love. Why does it matter to someone else? It isn't fair and it's time to change.
At one time in this country's history, people weren't allowed to marry outside their own race. Women couldn't vote. And enough people realized that these issues were unfair and unfounded. I think it's time to do the same for this issue.
In my right sidebar, there's a link to White-Knot.org. Go there. Show your support. Lets help make a change for the better. Please!
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
I'm terrified...and exhausted
Uh, warning...This has weepy written all over it...
I feel like the majority of my life has been spent preparing myself for my mother's passing. Watching her for the last 20+ years and the steady decline kinda does that to a person. Soon after my mom was diagnosed with MS, her parents moved from the north burbs back down to the south burbs to be close to us and to do whatever they could to help out. For most of the life that I remember, Omi & Opa (grandma & grandpa in German) were less than a ten minute drive away, if not closer. They've been an enormous part of my life. They filled in the gaps where my parents couldn't. And I value the relationship that I have with them more than words can express.
My dad sent me a text on Saturday afternoon to tell me that Opa went into the hospital on Thursday. At first, I was more pissed at my dad than anything else. Why would he wait three days to tell me this? But that passed and I was more worried than anything else. Opa's been having some pain in his side/back for maybe a month or so, and the doctors decided that they wanted to run some tests. He can't take pain medications of any kind because they make him violently ill. So, his options are to be in pain or to be bent over the toilet. The docs felt that they could do these tests more easily and make him more comfortable if he were in the hospital, rather than at home. They admitted him on Thursday and apparently were running tests all weekend. He came home from the hospital yesterday with bad news. He has bone cancer.
We don't really have much more details than that. He's supposed to start radiation soon and that's about all I know. My grandmother is a very emotional person (geez, i wonder where I get it from...) and it's very difficult to get any information from her when she's upset. She gives this small snippet of info (bone cancer, radiation) and then breaks down, refusing to talk about it anymore.
My dad didn't call me to tell me this information last night. No, instead, he texts it to me while I'm at work today, but only because I texted and asked how Opa was doing first. I'm pissed at my dad, but that has to be put aside. So much more than that, I'm scared. Not having any info is horrible. I don't know if they've caught it early. I don't know what kind of bone cancer it is, though after doing some google research, I'm pretty sure I could guess. He's had cancer before, maybe 15 years ago, of the prostate. But I was young. I didn't know what it all meant and frankly, everyonetried to keep kept me in the dark. I knew that it was going on, but that was the extent of it. I'm sure my parents and g'parents were trying to protect me. Now, being some sort of an adult, they have to let me in. And now I know the severity of cancer. And what it means. And I don't know what to do. I don't know if knowing would make it any better. I mean, what if it's really bad? What if the reason that they're not doing surgery is not just that he's 87, but that it's not just in the bones, but is spreading? Then what? How would that be better?
All day, when I wasn't focusing on something else, or even when I was trying to focus on something else, all I think about is him. I keep pulling out all these memories of him from the back of my brain. Things that I had all but forgotten about. And it just makes me sad. In all that time preparing myself for my mom to go, I never thought about the natural progression of life. I never thought of Omi or Opa going first.
When I told Hubby that Opa was in the hospital, he didn't say much. I told him how I was sad about it and how I hadn't really considered it. And he pointed out the fact that Opa's had a good, long life. And he's right. Eighty seven years is a long time. He's been married to Omi for close to 60 years. They have a daughter & son and four granddaughters. He's had a great, successful life. But that doesn't make it any easier for the people that love him. That doesn't make me any less sad for myself. Hubby told me 'Wouldn't you rather see him go before he's beyond himself? Do you want him to be in pain?' Well, no. I definitely don't want to see him in pain. And I don't want him to be unhappy in any way. But again, that doesn't make me feel better. How terribly selfish that sounds.
Maybe Hubby has some insight that I don't. He's been through this before. Both of his grandparents and his dad passed away before we even started dating. They were all pretty young, and all died from various cancers. My other grandfather, on my dad's side, passed away 7 years ago. And I was sad when that happened. But for different reasons. I don't feel like I ever knew him. I was sad that we didn't have a closer relationship. I was sad for my dad and couldn't imagine how he felt. Aside from him, the closest losses I've had were a girl that we went to school with in junior high, a friend of the family in high school and Mel's Gram last summer.
Hell, I don't even know that he's dying. But bone cancer just sounds so...heavy. Anyway, please say a prayer, if you do that kind of thing. My tears have temporarily dried up, so I'm going to head outside to make dinner. I'm sorry if I've been Debbie Downer here tonight, but I needed to get it all out...
I feel like the majority of my life has been spent preparing myself for my mother's passing. Watching her for the last 20+ years and the steady decline kinda does that to a person. Soon after my mom was diagnosed with MS, her parents moved from the north burbs back down to the south burbs to be close to us and to do whatever they could to help out. For most of the life that I remember, Omi & Opa (grandma & grandpa in German) were less than a ten minute drive away, if not closer. They've been an enormous part of my life. They filled in the gaps where my parents couldn't. And I value the relationship that I have with them more than words can express.
My dad sent me a text on Saturday afternoon to tell me that Opa went into the hospital on Thursday. At first, I was more pissed at my dad than anything else. Why would he wait three days to tell me this? But that passed and I was more worried than anything else. Opa's been having some pain in his side/back for maybe a month or so, and the doctors decided that they wanted to run some tests. He can't take pain medications of any kind because they make him violently ill. So, his options are to be in pain or to be bent over the toilet. The docs felt that they could do these tests more easily and make him more comfortable if he were in the hospital, rather than at home. They admitted him on Thursday and apparently were running tests all weekend. He came home from the hospital yesterday with bad news. He has bone cancer.
We don't really have much more details than that. He's supposed to start radiation soon and that's about all I know. My grandmother is a very emotional person (geez, i wonder where I get it from...) and it's very difficult to get any information from her when she's upset. She gives this small snippet of info (bone cancer, radiation) and then breaks down, refusing to talk about it anymore.
My dad didn't call me to tell me this information last night. No, instead, he texts it to me while I'm at work today, but only because I texted and asked how Opa was doing first. I'm pissed at my dad, but that has to be put aside. So much more than that, I'm scared. Not having any info is horrible. I don't know if they've caught it early. I don't know what kind of bone cancer it is, though after doing some google research, I'm pretty sure I could guess. He's had cancer before, maybe 15 years ago, of the prostate. But I was young. I didn't know what it all meant and frankly, everyone
All day, when I wasn't focusing on something else, or even when I was trying to focus on something else, all I think about is him. I keep pulling out all these memories of him from the back of my brain. Things that I had all but forgotten about. And it just makes me sad. In all that time preparing myself for my mom to go, I never thought about the natural progression of life. I never thought of Omi or Opa going first.
When I told Hubby that Opa was in the hospital, he didn't say much. I told him how I was sad about it and how I hadn't really considered it. And he pointed out the fact that Opa's had a good, long life. And he's right. Eighty seven years is a long time. He's been married to Omi for close to 60 years. They have a daughter & son and four granddaughters. He's had a great, successful life. But that doesn't make it any easier for the people that love him. That doesn't make me any less sad for myself. Hubby told me 'Wouldn't you rather see him go before he's beyond himself? Do you want him to be in pain?' Well, no. I definitely don't want to see him in pain. And I don't want him to be unhappy in any way. But again, that doesn't make me feel better. How terribly selfish that sounds.
Maybe Hubby has some insight that I don't. He's been through this before. Both of his grandparents and his dad passed away before we even started dating. They were all pretty young, and all died from various cancers. My other grandfather, on my dad's side, passed away 7 years ago. And I was sad when that happened. But for different reasons. I don't feel like I ever knew him. I was sad that we didn't have a closer relationship. I was sad for my dad and couldn't imagine how he felt. Aside from him, the closest losses I've had were a girl that we went to school with in junior high, a friend of the family in high school and Mel's Gram last summer.
Hell, I don't even know that he's dying. But bone cancer just sounds so...heavy. Anyway, please say a prayer, if you do that kind of thing. My tears have temporarily dried up, so I'm going to head outside to make dinner. I'm sorry if I've been Debbie Downer here tonight, but I needed to get it all out...
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Bad night...
Geez, was tonight a bad night for Hubby & me. We used to have nights like these every night. Where I couldn't wait for him to leave and then as soon as he was gone, I was hysterical. I'd go through cycles of feeling sorry for myself, to despising him, to a sense of calmness. I'd yell at him, though he wasn't there. I'd sob. I'd undoubtedly end up with a headache at the end of it all. After about an hour of that, I'd get to feeling...I'm not sure the word. Not guilty, but...just like I wanted some sort of resolution. So, I'd call him (most of the time, these fights end with him leaving for work or hanging up on me) and try to apologize and smooth everything over. Sometimes, it would work, most of the time, it wouldn't and we'd just go on being irritated with one another.
And then about six months ago, we finally had it out. In our own ways. We had another one of these nights where he ranted and raved about how unhappy he was. And he didn't hold anything back. He laid it all out on the table. And as much as I was feeling the same way, I didn't want to own up to that, but I did want to make sure that we fixed the problem. A couple days later, as I was driving to work, I told him how I was feeling and that while my feelings were related to the lack of intimacy and feeling loved, the outcome was the same, that I was very unhappy. We were stuck in this downward spiral, he was pissed because he felt like I wasn't holding up my end of the bargain, so he was slacking on his. And vice versa.
After these two conversations, we both started making an effort to make things better. And they have been. So much much better.
And then tonight we had one of our old arguments again. It was over something that isn't trivial in the present, but in the big picture, it's really stupid. One of the lessons that my dad taught me early on in life is to pick and choose your battles. I'm really laid back and I pretty much let things roll off my back. It takes a lot to really get me to a point where I'm ready to put up my dukes (figuratively...I've never once literally put em up).
But once Hubby gets going, there's no stopping him. One little thing, on top of another, on top of another...They all just snowball and he starts nit picking. You bought the wrong cleaning solution. You need to take the cat to the vet. You always give me the same two things in my lunch. I want something other than ham. There's a pile of papers on the table. The sky is blue... And after a while, I stop listening. I can only take so much before I start feeling sorry for myself and tune him out. And that's when he decides that he's going to leave because 'what's the point in staying here, talking to the wall?' I hate when he leaves like this because I can't stand to leave this feeling of uneasiness in the air.
In the past, this was where things were left until the next day, when we'd start all over again. So, you can see how the frustration just continued to build and build until we got to a point where we weren't really even speaking. We'd be in a room together all weekend and only speak when we absolutely had to.
Tonight was different though. He stormed out of here like always, and then ten minutes later, he called and ...
apologized.
Wait. I need to read that again.
In the almost ten years we've been together, there haven't been many apologies from him. Especially not for things like this. Sure, he's apologized for the really big things that he did to wrong me. And he's said he was sorry for the little things that don't matter. But something like this, where a confession that he blew something out of proportion or that he's taking out his bad mood on me, those have been very few and far between. It was nice that he did. I didn't get the message until a half hour after he'd left it, which made it better. I called him back and he reaffirmed that he was partially in the wrong. I thanked him and assured him that I heard what he was upset with me about.
I think that's how an argument is supposed to happen. At the end of it, everyone's supposed to have a mutual understanding of what the problem was and how we can fix it. And that should be the end of it. It shouldn't carry on to the next day or the next argument. I'm rambling. The point that I'm trying to make is that I'm glad that it ended the way that it did and I still love my husband and everything's going to be okay.
And then about six months ago, we finally had it out. In our own ways. We had another one of these nights where he ranted and raved about how unhappy he was. And he didn't hold anything back. He laid it all out on the table. And as much as I was feeling the same way, I didn't want to own up to that, but I did want to make sure that we fixed the problem. A couple days later, as I was driving to work, I told him how I was feeling and that while my feelings were related to the lack of intimacy and feeling loved, the outcome was the same, that I was very unhappy. We were stuck in this downward spiral, he was pissed because he felt like I wasn't holding up my end of the bargain, so he was slacking on his. And vice versa.
After these two conversations, we both started making an effort to make things better. And they have been. So much much better.
And then tonight we had one of our old arguments again. It was over something that isn't trivial in the present, but in the big picture, it's really stupid. One of the lessons that my dad taught me early on in life is to pick and choose your battles. I'm really laid back and I pretty much let things roll off my back. It takes a lot to really get me to a point where I'm ready to put up my dukes (figuratively...I've never once literally put em up).
But once Hubby gets going, there's no stopping him. One little thing, on top of another, on top of another...They all just snowball and he starts nit picking. You bought the wrong cleaning solution. You need to take the cat to the vet. You always give me the same two things in my lunch. I want something other than ham. There's a pile of papers on the table. The sky is blue... And after a while, I stop listening. I can only take so much before I start feeling sorry for myself and tune him out. And that's when he decides that he's going to leave because 'what's the point in staying here, talking to the wall?' I hate when he leaves like this because I can't stand to leave this feeling of uneasiness in the air.
In the past, this was where things were left until the next day, when we'd start all over again. So, you can see how the frustration just continued to build and build until we got to a point where we weren't really even speaking. We'd be in a room together all weekend and only speak when we absolutely had to.
Tonight was different though. He stormed out of here like always, and then ten minutes later, he called and ...
apologized.
Wait. I need to read that again.
In the almost ten years we've been together, there haven't been many apologies from him. Especially not for things like this. Sure, he's apologized for the really big things that he did to wrong me. And he's said he was sorry for the little things that don't matter. But something like this, where a confession that he blew something out of proportion or that he's taking out his bad mood on me, those have been very few and far between. It was nice that he did. I didn't get the message until a half hour after he'd left it, which made it better. I called him back and he reaffirmed that he was partially in the wrong. I thanked him and assured him that I heard what he was upset with me about.
I think that's how an argument is supposed to happen. At the end of it, everyone's supposed to have a mutual understanding of what the problem was and how we can fix it. And that should be the end of it. It shouldn't carry on to the next day or the next argument. I'm rambling. The point that I'm trying to make is that I'm glad that it ended the way that it did and I still love my husband and everything's going to be okay.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Care Package
Last week, there was a writing prompt at Twenty Something Writers called "Care Packages". I had planned to write something and then when I sat down to do it, I had a really difficult time coming up with people to send these care packages to, and an even more difficult time coming up with the contents of each package for those that I was able to come up with. So, I abandoned that idea and posted some randomness instead. But Mel had better luck than I did, in this post. And I was one of the recipients of her care packages. As soon as I read the advice that she had for me, I was in tears.
"3. Tell her everything you think but don't necessarily say. Sometimes we think they just know, but it's best to be sure!"
I was beyond choked up, and I attribute that to a couple things. I know that the advice comes from her heart. I know that if given the opportunity, she would have given herself the same advice a year ago. I think the other reason I was upset was that I know she's right. Just rereading her words, I get a lump in my throat. There are so many things that I don't tell my mom. I tell her that I love her every time I see her. Numerous times. She doesn't really talk anymore, just kind of observes everything that's going on around her. But when I tell her that I love her, she smiles and says it back.
That being said, there are a lot of things that I don't tell her. Not for any particular reason. I think it's mostly because I don't want to say anything that might upset her. I only see her for a few hours every two or three weeks, and I'd rather not spend any of that time on a heavy topic, like 'Mom, you are incredibly strong. I hope that I can be half as brave as you have been. I'm sorry that I was a punk ass teenager. I'm sorry that MS has taken so much from you. Thank you for pulling through so many times.' But Melissa is so right. I should tell her these things. She should know how proud I am of her. So, much like Mel's letters to her Gram, I decided to write my mom a letter. I don't know that I'm strong enough to read it to her myself, and I don't think she can see well enough to read it on her own, but maybe my dad can read it to her. That's kind of a cop out, huh? Well, I'll figure that part out later. Letter to Mom, coming soon. Can't do it at work...I'm already a semi-blubbering mess. This post is definitely better done at home.
"3. Tell her everything you think but don't necessarily say. Sometimes we think they just know, but it's best to be sure!"
I was beyond choked up, and I attribute that to a couple things. I know that the advice comes from her heart. I know that if given the opportunity, she would have given herself the same advice a year ago. I think the other reason I was upset was that I know she's right. Just rereading her words, I get a lump in my throat. There are so many things that I don't tell my mom. I tell her that I love her every time I see her. Numerous times. She doesn't really talk anymore, just kind of observes everything that's going on around her. But when I tell her that I love her, she smiles and says it back.
That being said, there are a lot of things that I don't tell her. Not for any particular reason. I think it's mostly because I don't want to say anything that might upset her. I only see her for a few hours every two or three weeks, and I'd rather not spend any of that time on a heavy topic, like 'Mom, you are incredibly strong. I hope that I can be half as brave as you have been. I'm sorry that I was a punk ass teenager. I'm sorry that MS has taken so much from you. Thank you for pulling through so many times.' But Melissa is so right. I should tell her these things. She should know how proud I am of her. So, much like Mel's letters to her Gram, I decided to write my mom a letter. I don't know that I'm strong enough to read it to her myself, and I don't think she can see well enough to read it on her own, but maybe my dad can read it to her. That's kind of a cop out, huh? Well, I'll figure that part out later. Letter to Mom, coming soon. Can't do it at work...I'm already a semi-blubbering mess. This post is definitely better done at home.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Booooooooooo!!!!
So Hubby found out today that he's going back to third shift. He couldn't be happier.
I, however, am not so thrilled. I liked having some freedom when I got home from work. I liked being able to cook dinner and watch tv without having to worry that the noise or the smell would wake him up. I liked being able to run the dishwasher, without worrying if there would be any hot water left for his shower. I liked having him home at night, even if he wasn't in the bed with me, it was still nice to not be alone all night long. I liked not having to get him up for work. He's such a crab ass when he gets up and not at all pleasant. Most days, I felt like I was waging war for the 45 minutes between his waking and his leaving. Simply put, I am not at all excited about going back to the old schedule.
I've really been on a sort of Cloud 9 since he started working 2nd shift. I feel like we've been getting along very well and we've both been very happy with how things were going. I'm terrified that we're going to go back to disliking one another. This whole 3rd shift thing is scary the crud out of me. I definitely have a negative attitude going back to it. I hope he's right and that things are going to be okay.
This weekend, I had a little bit of a meltdown...He plays WoW like it's his job. And while I do enjoy playing the game, I'm not nearly as addicted to it as he has become. It's all he ever does. Really. If he's not sleeping, working or pooping, he is playing the game. And this weekend, I felt crummy about it. It was one thing after another and he just wouldn't get up from the game. It's not like I was all in his grill all weekend. I let him sleep in on Saturday morning, I brought him coffee when he got up, I made lunch/dinner, I really just didn't bother him at all on Saturday. Sunday, I went to church and did some shopping. I didn't get home til 2pm. So, really, it's not like I was all 'Love me!' all weekend. But, it was like 5pm and I really was feeling down. I wanted him to do something other than play the game and hit the bowl. And when he told me he was busy, I got all pouty and started crying. Now, I know part of this is due to PMS, and I accept that, but really? All weekend? You can't quit playing long enough to come to bed with me? I am your wife, damnit......../rant
Keep your fingers crossed that third shift isn't the end of the world, please. :-)
I, however, am not so thrilled. I liked having some freedom when I got home from work. I liked being able to cook dinner and watch tv without having to worry that the noise or the smell would wake him up. I liked being able to run the dishwasher, without worrying if there would be any hot water left for his shower. I liked having him home at night, even if he wasn't in the bed with me, it was still nice to not be alone all night long. I liked not having to get him up for work. He's such a crab ass when he gets up and not at all pleasant. Most days, I felt like I was waging war for the 45 minutes between his waking and his leaving. Simply put, I am not at all excited about going back to the old schedule.
I've really been on a sort of Cloud 9 since he started working 2nd shift. I feel like we've been getting along very well and we've both been very happy with how things were going. I'm terrified that we're going to go back to disliking one another. This whole 3rd shift thing is scary the crud out of me. I definitely have a negative attitude going back to it. I hope he's right and that things are going to be okay.
This weekend, I had a little bit of a meltdown...He plays WoW like it's his job. And while I do enjoy playing the game, I'm not nearly as addicted to it as he has become. It's all he ever does. Really. If he's not sleeping, working or pooping, he is playing the game. And this weekend, I felt crummy about it. It was one thing after another and he just wouldn't get up from the game. It's not like I was all in his grill all weekend. I let him sleep in on Saturday morning, I brought him coffee when he got up, I made lunch/dinner, I really just didn't bother him at all on Saturday. Sunday, I went to church and did some shopping. I didn't get home til 2pm. So, really, it's not like I was all 'Love me!' all weekend. But, it was like 5pm and I really was feeling down. I wanted him to do something other than play the game and hit the bowl. And when he told me he was busy, I got all pouty and started crying. Now, I know part of this is due to PMS, and I accept that, but really? All weekend? You can't quit playing long enough to come to bed with me? I am your wife, damnit......../rant
Keep your fingers crossed that third shift isn't the end of the world, please. :-)
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