Enough

She is a real bitch.  She doesn’t like me very much.  She tells me that I am a fake; that I am lazy and inadequate.  She makes sure I know that I am never going to be enough. 

She calls me dramatic and overly sensitive.  She criticizes the way I parent, the way I dress, the way I keep my house, and my marriage.  She tells me that I am dumb, but pretend to be smart.  She sees right through me.  She knows my weaknesses and actively uses them against me.  Being a “ditz” is something that I fear, and she makes sure I feel like a ‘ditz’ most days.  

She catches me being a lazy parent and letting them watch just one more show, sets her off.  Even though I hide from her, she always catches me eating when I am not supposed to be.  I think that she is sleeping late at night when I sneak to the kitchen and devour something sweet. But when I turn around she is right there, marching me back up the stairs and making me stand on the scale to see the damage I am doing.  She looks at the clock and tells me that I am lazy because if I just work a little harder, I could make it to the gym AND do the laundry.  But I have no discipline.  

She looks at my husband and tells me that he could never really love a woman as lazy and dependent as me.  He stays because he is a good man and would not want to hurt the kids. But any time he is away from me he is much happier.  She assures me that when he tells me that he loves me, or hugs me that he is only trying to “get some.”  She makes sure I know that when he does nice things for me it is because he wants me to do nice things for him in return.   

She lets me know that when my children are acting out or misbehaving, it is directly because of me and my lazy parenting.  When people compliment my children she makes me aware that they only act nice around other people, because they don’t like being with me.  

She makes me question everyone’s motives, constantly.  She is so toxic and debilitating.  When I am struggling with depression or anxiety she is the happiest, and makes me believe that I am damaged beyond repair.  She loves being in control but criticizes me for being a control freak. 

Every once in a while she makes me feel a little superior by pointing out other peoples’ bad behavior.  But when I try to have sympathy for those people, she calls me weak and a pushover.  

She points out my wrinkles, my saggy breasts, my stretch marks, the bags under my eyes, my hair, my face.  She makes sure I put my Spanx on every day, so no one else can see my muffin top.  

When I do get to the gym to work out, she is a little weaker but then she makes me feel guilty for focusing so much on myself and tells me I am vain and self centered.  If I need time alone or away from the kids, she is right there with me the entire time, telling me that I don’t deserve to be a mother.  

She makes me spend money telling me that that will make me feel better and then criticizes me for going into debt.  She is strong.  

But I am stronger.  She cannot make me feel ‘less-than’ anymore.  She will NOT control me.  

I am enough just as I am.  

I am enough even on my bad days.  I am not afraid of her.  She has been my companion for too long.  I will not listen to her.  It is my choice and I will make that choice.  

When I feel weak, I will listen to my real friends and loved ones, who tell me that I am enough.  

I am enough and I am powerful.  

I am enough and I am strong.  

I am enough and I am beautiful.  

I am enough and I will prosper.  

I am enough and I am love.  

I am love and light and power.  

Even as I type this she is whispering “Who the fuck do you think you are? You sound ridiculous and self centered.” 

And I am telling her, ‘NO, I am enough.’  

Momma O's Fall Update

Fall is in full blast!  It is still hot as balls out, but school started and my new job at the school has started.  

Band practice has started.

Flag football has started.  

The Eagles season has started.  

We are all in. Balls to the wall, full steam ahead.  At least until we hit that wall, which usually happens around November.  When the wall is hit, we are wiped out and then we have to get ready for the holidays.  

I have this image in my head of how the school year will go.  I have started with a good momentum by packing lunches every day, preparing dinner, making sure the kids are clean and in bed by 8:00pm.  I am getting the kids up early enough so there is no crazy rushing around in the morning.  I am not sure how long this will last, because by February or there about, we are usually getting up with the most minimal time needed to get ready.  No lunch is packed and I am scrambling to make sure that their lunch accounts have some money in them.  And dinner consists of frozen waffles and a yogurt.  But for now I am going to bask in the glory of everything being done right and in a timely manner!  

I started a new job.  I am the lunch lady at the kids’ school.  I don’t see my kids because I work in a different building, but I will get to see Little One, next year. That is, if I decide to stay and I haven’t lost all my shit by the time school is over!  As the lunch lady I am responsible for all of the first and second graders (approximately 600 munchkins). I make sure they get in line if they are ordering lunch.  I get them sitting down to eat their lunches.  Since they are relatively little guys and gals, I have to open juice boxes, yogurts, snacks and milks.  I can also foresee carpel tunnel set in for all the shoes I have to tie.  After they are done eating — and there is never enough time - I wipe down all of their tables and then take them out to recess until their teachers are done eating their lunches and come to retrieve them.  I do this four times, in a row for about 150 kids at a pop.  It is the fastest 2.5 hours of my life, every day.  

The kids are a riot.  Some of them need more discipline at home.  Some of them need more help in school.  Some of them are not happy.  Some of them are super hyper.  Some are space cadets.  And the vast majority are really great kids.  I love the kids. They make me laugh, smile, wince, roll my eyes, cry and they make me talk to myself.  This is motherhood, so I am well suited.  I am not sure if I am getting the whole “time away from my kids” thing correct.  Since now I am just spending that time with other peoples kids.  At least there is a meager paycheck in it at the end of the week.  

Then we have this crazy armed burglary/home invasion stuff going on in our neighborhood.  Yes, you read that right.  It is complete bullshit.  These desperate sonsabtches are going to houses in broad daylight, banging on the doors and then breaking in.  It is so comforting to know that they have no fear in being caught,  because most people are not home during the day, except for some of us.  I am a bit rattled.  But we have our vicious dog who will tear apart anyone who tries to get in and my double-black belt in TaiKwanJuJitSu will also help.  Mother fuckers need to step back.  Other than that, there really is nothing in this house worth more than a few bucks.  Believe me I have tried to sell most of this shit on the yard sale sites and no one wants it.   

Then we have my MiMom (94 year old grandmother) who fell and broke her hip in the nursing home…. yes, IN the nursing home.  They actually had to perform surgery and she did well.  It has been a trying summer to say the least.  I spent my birthday in the hospital with my MiMom as she went in for surgery that day.  It was not the best way to turn 42 but it could have been worse.  

I look forward to fall.  I love the change of seasons, the smells, the warm clothes that cover up hairy legs, the boots that hide the jacked up toes, the scarves and accessories.  Time to break out the crock pot and have the house smelling yummy with food only The Hub and I will eat.  

My plan is to write more, now that I have all this time on my hands….wait, what?  Time, is still a commodity that eludes me.  Until the next update.