Word of the Day: Allow(ed)

(big sigh...) I don't like drama. I know I'm female and I complain at times, but I really don't like drama. I've come to realize that in life, people who have a problem with you, really just have a problem. If I don't like someone, it's because of how I allow them to make me feel, not necessarily how they make me feel. I mean, how can they make me feel a certain way, ya know? Interesting concept, I know this...but I think we enable most of the drama in our lives by letting people get to us.

I've had some instances this past week where I was left feeling...well, crappy. I felt crappy because I allowed certain situations to get under my skin. I should've just shrugged my shoulders and said, 'uhhh, okay. (pause, shrug) Whatever.' That's my normal reaction to most situations. I try not to let things get to me too much. I don't enjoy feeling bad or stressed or aggravated or bullied, so I just don't. But this week, I think I'd just had enough. It's exhausting to keep a positive attitude and it's exhausting to have to fight certain feelings all the time.

Sometimes you want to quit being a martyr and just say, 'you know what? you're a waste of space... and I don't like you... and it's because I let you get to me, not because you're important or worthy or good enough to get to me on your own!' BUT, you don't say that because you have more tact.

For those people out there who enjoy fighting and belittling (is this a word? I think it is, but it sounds funny and more like a hobbit dwelling than a verb... anyway..) other people, shame on you. Shame on you for not having enough to do in your life than to make other people feel bad. But more than you mean peeps (peeps: a word I picked up from my friend, Holly-hey girl, what's up?), shame on YOU for allowing those other people to make you feel like crap. Whoever you are, if you had a bad week and you had some shallow people step on you to get to the top first, STOP ALLOWING THEM TO GET YOU DOWN!

I'll end my bitch-session with something I learned the other day from my 11-year-old, Aley. Maci was picking at her and picking at her and finally she said this: 'You know what Maci? I would rip your head off right now but I'm not going to, you know why? Because I learned in school today that instead of acting on how I feel when I'm angry, I should just practice self-control. So that's what I'm going to do. Now get out of my face.'

If only I was so wise when I was 11.

Dream-Board

I've decided to start a dream-board. You know, where you take pictures of all the things you want in life and stick them on a cork board. Then you stare at them day-in and day-out, and pretend you have everything you've ever wanted. No, I'm serious. I got my Victoria's Secret catalog in the mail yesterday and picked out the ideal physique. Now this is where it gets tricky. As it stands right now, I've really slacked on my workouts. Whenever I eat something, it contains a negative charge & my butt obviously has some sort of positive charge and they always seem to find each other instantaneously. I think that next to the perfect physique I should put a picture of 2 magnets, both with negative charges so they repel each other. One would represent food, the other...my butt. (What? I need to be thorough.)

The next item on my dream-board is my perfect man. (I didn't mean that he would be an 'item', I mean not all the time.) The first thing he needs to have is a sense of humor. Clearly I don't take myself too seriously, so he can't either. That doesn't mean laugh AT me, just with me, and don't annoy me laughing all the time either. There's a fine line. The only other thing he needs is to be drop-dead gorgeous. See, I don't want much...this is easier than I thought!

I think a dream job needs to be on here somewhere. Wait..if it's a dream-board, then I wouldn't have to work. I would just have the great physique and the perfect man (I already have great kids, so that didn't take any extra meditating). So I guess I don't need as many pictures or as big a board as originally planned.

It seemed like a good idea a minute ago.

Land Your Plane

I talk to a lot of people every day. It's my job. I really don't mind it because it makes the day go by quickly. One of my weaknesses though, is my patience for chatty Cathys. I'll use my daughter, Aley, for example. When Aley goes to tell me a story, whether it be about one of her friends or just an experience at school, she tends to ramble. She'll start her story, and I'm with her. After 30 seconds, my eyes start to glaze over and I can't hear her anymore, I'm concentrating on whatever is going on in my mind because she fails to get to the point quickly enough. She's talking about how the weather was, when she was outside, talking to her friend whom she had an argument with, after she got back from taking this big important test. Um, (insert Chicken Little's voice) what were we talkin' about? It's very hard for me to listen to a story if there isn't a clear beginning, quickly getting to the plot, and making the ending brief while only taking 20 seconds to spit it out. I guess I have a lot of my dad's patience in me because he's the same way.

I watch a lot of movies, and I love the one-liners. I don't know if you've ever seen Couples' Retreat or not, but I would probably recommend it. There's a man who's on vacation with his girlfriend and runs into his estranged wife. She proceeds to tell him about how after dating all these men, she realized she still loves him. While explaining all she went through to get to this realization, he says the funniest thing. In fact, I remember laughing hysterically..rewinding that part..and playing it again, only to laugh like it was the first time I'd seen it. The wife is carrying on about all these other guys and he stops her says, "Alright, alright, land your plane!"

No? Nothin? Well, I think it's funny, and I'm not afraid to use it.

Oops

I thought I had a hair appointment today. I get so excited when I realize that I get to spend a couple hours at the salon. It's so relaxing and I leave there looking...well, better than when I got there. So I arrive at 3:30pm, about 15 minutes early, all giddy. The receptionist recognizes me immediately (probably because I look like a kid in a candy store...every time) and asks, "Oh, are the girls not getting their hair cut today?" Crap. I forgot the girls. I knew this Monday was too good to be true. I breezed through the day, amazed at how alert I was for the first day after a long weekend. I was so thrilled about the thought of being pampered for a couple hours that I blew off the kids' haircuts. Crap. Crap, crap, crap! "Um, yeeeeeaaah, I'll be right back", I tell her as I practically fall down the steps trying to get to my vehicle. The kids' school is only about 5 minutes away, so I put the pedal to the metal and fly over to pick them up. It's funny because most of the time when I get there, Maci is like, "Didn't I tell you to pick me up early today???" And Aley plows kids over to get her things so she can get the heck out of Kids Club. Now that the girls are 8 1/2 and 11, they are SO over the whole having-to-be-babysat gig.

Today, however, I get there and they both just look at me as if to say, "what the HELL are you doing here??" I signed them out and watched impatiently as Aley tries to finish her snack (in a very unlady-like manner, I might add) and Maci stares back at me with her hands on her hips and the look of kill in her eyes. Excuse me for arriving early one day when they weren't expecting it. I hurried them along while explaining what an idiot I am. Maci, of course, half-whined, half-yelled all the way to the Durango because she's STARVING and now she has to get her stupid hair cut. Aley comes running behind us, also fake-crying because she needs food (and because she puts the Queen in drama queen).

I finally get them both in the vehicle and arrive back at the salon, just 5 minutes late for our appointment. Maci went first. Then Aley. By the time it was my turn, the moment I had been waiting for....Maci starts crying about how hungry she is, again. Oh brother, just forget it. I ended up rescheduling my hair appointment for next week. Then I realized I'm going to be in Phoenix next week, so I had to schedule it for the week after that. So much for my relaxing, 2 hours of pampering, appointment.

On a lighter note, the girls' hair looked great. Maci got an inch cut off her blonde lockes and Aley got a trim with some subtle bangs. It's amazing how much they are both starting to look like me. All of a sudden, I didn't even care that my hair still looked like it did when I arrived at the salon. I began to realize how fast my girls are growing up. (And how mouthy and demanding they've become.)

Migraines

I get migraines. I get migraines a lot. These aren't just bad headaches, these are debilitating, nauseating, excrutiating headaches. Whenever I get a little bit stressed, or I don't get a good night's sleep, I get this nagging pain behind my right eye. The worst part about it is that I do have a prescription medication I can take for my migraines, but since I'm one of the millions of Americans without health insurance, I can't afford to fill the prescription. I call my doctor's office every 3 weeks or so to try and get samples and sometimes they are able to oblige. However, if they don't have any samples to give me, I'm often forced to fill the 9-pill prescription which costs me $233 out-of-pocket. These nine pills will usually last me through 2 or 3 migraines, that's it. I can't imagine what families do, who don't have health insurance, and who have serious health conditions. I do know that I thank my lucky stars every day that my kids and I are in good health (except for the migraines). If you happen to be someone who has health insurance, make sure you take advantage of it. I only hope that someday soon, I will be able to read this and say, 'thank God I don't have to go through that anymore'.