Tag

Moving

Placing Blame (mostly just a list of stuff I’m bad at)

I can name a million things that I’m bad at:

the first 16 have to do with the maintenance and handling of a motor vehicle (I’ll let you know when I’m in the road),

  • properly plucking my eyebrows so they’re even own both sides,
  • reading “I’ll Love You Forever” without sobbing uncontrollably,

    Bad at reading this children's book without crying
    *sob* …then he holds HER is his arms!?!
  • successfully completing a Lego playset without abandoning it halfway through,
  • confrontation with people who know what they’re talking about,
  • a sense of confidence that everything I said and did during that social interaction last week wasn’t completely awkward,
  • sometimes snorting while laughing (okay, OFTEN snorting while laughing- take it as a compliment),
  • and team sports.

Additionally, I wear shoes that are completely inappropriate for the weather. I drink too much wine. I get frustrated and tend to fly off the handle when I’m running late. I look drunk at 10 am, when I’m dead sober.

Oh yeah, I’m also petrified of small rodents- to the point that I’d throw a loved one in the direction of a heinous mole to run away screaming for my life.

Bad at reacting to rodents
*shudder*

These are for starters.

There are things that come more naturally to me; for those, I am grateful. Specifically, car dancing. I am excellent at busting a move to 90s R&B classics at red lights. My children may disagree, but I know the truth.

A sign of maturity is the ability to realize and accept one’s own faults, and I try to do that. It drives me completely out of my mind, though, when I’m blamed for faults that are not my own, or things that are totally out of my capacity.

Which brings me to my current situation: homeless, bags of food and clothing in the trunk of my car, moving from place-to-place because wonderful friends are willing to take us in, awaiting a closing date on my new house.

It could be worse. It could be A LOT worse.

The problem I have is that it seems as though everyone in the situation places the blame on every other person. At the heart of it is (li’l old) me. Although I know that there are many things that I’m not great at, I need to realize that this is out of my hands, and resist the urge to blame anyone else.

Even though it’s clearly somebody else’s fault.

Garage Sale

By 7:45 am, the heat of the day was already overwhelming me.

As though I was carrying a gorilla on my back, its heaviness pushed me down, making my legs weak. I continued to drag the various pieces into the driveway, yelling at my children the entire time,

“No!” 

“Stop!”

“Put that down!”

“Nobody talk to me, I NEED coffee!”

Whose stupid idea was it to have a garage sale anyway? Oh, yeah: Avery. My lovely child, who had already made plans to ditch us and go swimming at the neighbor’s pool.

Chris came over in the morning to help, and was out getting breakfast for the kids at the deli when a few customers came by.

The early-morning-scavengers.
The professional-garage-salers.
The skillful-haggler-types.

I plastered a smile on my already dampened face. “Let me know if I can help you with anything!”

Continue Reading…

Forgetting MS

Sometimes I legitimately forget.

It’s 9 am and the moving truck is coming in an hour. I’ve been up since 5:30 and still haven’t finished packing up my clothes. Or- doh!- the basement. I wish I could just power through, like I had planned.
My legs, though, they’ve quit- they up and decided that they’d had enough.
And now I sit and wait. Wait for my mom to get here. Wait for my ex to get here. Wait for my legs to feel up to the task of walking; a task that I’d taken advantage of for the 30 years before I started to show symptoms of MS.

My message is this: don’t take advantage of the things we all sometimes take for granted. The ability to see, the ability to hear, the ability to walk.

Love to all <3

Forgetting MS
My baby, sleeping on the floor, next to one of the many moving boxes throughout the house.