Soccer moms are crabby for a reason, and it's got little to do with soccer.

Every parent has his or her own reasons. Here are some of mine.
My son was late for school again and it was all my fault.
I even gave the universe, the school rules, and my own self-esteem, a slap in the face by parking illegally in front of the school in a (failed) attempt to get him into class before the anthem.
I did this in front of my son.
If there's one thing that will make a smart mom crabby, it's letting down her own child.
Hmmm. I shouldn't blog. I should just write, for myself, so I don't start to feel self-conscious, hit delete, or wonder if I should save this as a draft and edit it because that's what bloggers do.
Some part of me wants to write in public though. I guess it's the part of me that doesn't want to be alone. That wants to hear, "Me too!" to be assured that I'm not the only shitty mom (delete), not-good-enough mom (delete?), guilty mom.
Am I the only woman paranoid (or just worried) that my husband will leave me and successfully sue for custody of our son just by pointing to my weaknesses?
I told him to see a psychologist because he was grumpy and stressed. He finally took my advice. Then he told me that the psychologist asked him why his wife is tired all the time and wouldn't he like it if I put our son to bed some nights instead of him? Fuck. You told another human being that you put our son to bed most nights lately? Did you tell her about the year that I put him to bed more than once a day by nursing him, alone, in a dark room?
I digress.
Bottom line, I feel like crap, and no I don't think that I should put this out there for the universe actually...
Soccer moms.
Oh yeah, today I spent an hour that I really didn't have responding to a friend's email that she's in town for the night and would like to get together, and how to fit this into my evening's schedule which is: pick up my child from school; cook and feed him supper and help him with his homework; emotionally and actually prepare for a parent association meeting at his school; transfer him to my husband during the meeting (childcare is provided) who will take him to an arena and get him ready to play hockey; rush from the meeting to the game; sit and watch my beloved boy block shots and try to block other shots; go home, get us ready for bed, and fall into bed.
Did I mention that I'm depressed and anxious and the last thing I want to add to this picture is responsibility to host an adult? That I'm teetering on the edge of hoarding and dread the thought of a visitor, let alone an accomplished, child-free, visitor?
I get over the guilt and suggest that she take a cab from her hotel to the arena and meet me there. She agrees. I feel relieved.
Complicating factor: my friend and her boss want to meet with my husband late this afternoon. So if she meets with him at the end of the day, it would be only reasonable for him to invite her to come home with him and have supper with us before I head to the meeting and they head to the arena... But I, the introverted, anxious, poor-housekeeper, can think of nothing worse. Can not handle this pressure. Well, I could if I HAD to, but with a painful stomach all day and chaos all around and failing to meet all of my other obligations and intentions today...
So I pass this stress on to my husband. Who is now going to a meeting with my friend and her boss at 3:00 p.m. and is going to try to avoid inviting her over for supper, just because his wife is such a basket case. He, the most sociable man in the universe... No wonder I get paranoid (or worried) that he'll leave me or fall out of love with me... I don't feel worthy.
......
Meanwhile, the clock is ticking, the day is shrinking.
Things still to do today, in no particular order:

• Meet a different friend for lunch at noon. I have to leave in 25 minutes. (Note: This will not be fun. This is another source of anxiety. On the upside, it will also be a source of food, and I am seriously in need of nutrition.)
• Buy groceries for my son's (and perhaps my husband's and friend's) supper.
• Clean the kitchen -- fortunately I did this last night so it's not too bad. 
• Print and read the school constitution and other documents in preparation for tonight's meeting. 
• Wash my son's hockey long underwear, in time for it to dry this afternoon. 
• Pick up my son at 3:30 p.m.
• Gather and return the overdue library books. 
• Pay the overdue bills.
• Write to my cousin who has cancer. (I'm not piling this on to be maudlin. My dear cousin has cancer and lives on the other side of the world, and I'm overdue to write to her. I want to write to her. This takes time and focus and emotional energy that is currently in short supply.)
• Do the homework and reading for my anxiety group therapy this Thursday. 
• Help my son with his homework, make our supper, and eat together. 
• Try not to feel extremely guilty about the fact that I don't want to invite my friend over for supper. What's she going to do? Eat in a restaurant by herself? Yeah, I feel extremely bad. But which stress is worse -- the stress of hosting on a stressful day, or the stress of avoiding it and making my husband and friend deal with the consequences? 
• Get my son into his hockey long underwear and ready to go by 4:30. 
• Go to the 5:00 meeting. (After that point it's all scheduled -- meeting; drive to arena; watch game; visit with friend; drive friend to her hotel; drive home; collapse; feel shitty because I (probably) still haven't written to my cousin; try to put it off another night because I need my sleep. 
• Enjoy a walk outside in the sunshine. 

Some of these things are not going to get done today. The most important ones. The ones that involve looking after me.
Well, it's 11:41. Just enough time to throw the long underwear into the washing machine, throw on some moisturizer, pee, and race to the sushi restaurant.
fml

Optimism

I’m feeling incredibly optimistic today. So much so that it’s a little… scary. Hello, mania? No, that’s just the adrenaline of getting by on very little sleep, soon to be supplemented with one non-stimulant AD/HD medication, one antidepressant/antianxiety medication, and a cup of tea. 
I shouldn't get ahead of myself here. It's not like I've paid the bills, nor can I even sit down at my desk.
However, I do have a bunch of reasons to feel hopeful.

• I got my son to school early today. Early enough to play outside with his friends. Without stress. He was so thrilled when I reassured him that we weren’t going to be late, that he spontaneously threw his arms around my waist, pressed his happy face against my stomach, and squeezed.

• A friend emailed me and asked if I want to walk with her at lunch regularly. I’ve barely been outside in a week and it’s sunny outside.

• I watched a wild rabbit eating grass in my backyard.

• I read a comprehensive, succinct, and hopeful post about ADD by a woman who accidentally posted it to her Facebook page, and decided to leave it there. Inspiring!

• I’m on a clutter-busting roll here!

• Yesterday I got really down about my slow progress and worried that my husband might leave me, solely because I felt ashamed and undeserving, but I made a good decision and went out and bought groceries and then I came to him in tears and told him that he will get “the real me” back and he looked at me with love and told me that he knows that and he sees progress and he wasn’t upset and his smile and words completely reassured me. He helped me make the supper I bought and we all had a good evening.

• On my way into the grocery store last night I decided that every day I will do something, no matter how small, towards healing and moving forward. Something to feel good about, some positive step, no matter how small, every day. I think that this is about appreciating that small steps count, and giving myself reasons to be positive, as much as it is about getting there.  

•  Last week I had the most helpful appointment I’ve ever had with my psychiatrist, thanks in part to my husband being there. The biggest thing that I took away from it is to think about and remember what makes me happy and to do more of those things.

•  I resolved to use a spiral notebook for ongoing to-do list(s), notes, etc. Credit to my former coach, I guess: it’s a ‘one-book’, although it’s taken me 11 months to embrace the idea. I started to use it the week before Christmas, when I was finally shaken into crisis-prevention mode. I have it and now I have to use it. The first two lists should be things that make me happy and (other) things that I need to do.

• I had a wonderful dream the other day. When I awoke I realized that I’ve been living "in a fog" for a long time. I remembered that I used to have more vision and enthusiasm, particularly regarding my physical surroundings. I didn’t always live in clutter and I wasn’t always fatigued.  

Oh, yeah – One more thing – 

...although, at that time, I had no dependents, little stuff, and only one role (law student or lawyer). Thinking on it now, the clutter started when I was living with a man who was very wrong for me, working very long hours in a job I hated. On the other hand, my teen bedroom was usually a mess... as was my poor mom's, and I know it bothered her.

Still, awakening from the dream I remembered that I used to feel more alive, enthusiastic, and optimistic. Remembering my past optimism strengthens my belief that I can feel that way again, but better... 

In my dream I had creative vision and guts, but then I was shaken by other influences.  I need to solidify my own ideas and gain the strength to disregard the opinions of others, real and perceived.  

I used to revel in my little homes. My first apartment was a tiny sanctuary. It was very spare, furnished with only a few things I chose. There’s a reason that my cluttered house drives me crazy. I need and deserve to regain a peaceful home. And now that I’m blessed to share it with two people I love who love me back and are awesome for me, they need and deserve a peaceful home too, even if the clutter doesn’t affect them as directly.

Okay, time to go for a walk in the sunny snow.  

Weight-shifting

Earlier this week I was in tears about getting my son to school late, again; meeting my friend for lunch late, again; and generally continuing to suck at life, again. I was walking around with a terrible sense of shame. I felt like one of those cartoon figures walking around under a raincloud, except the raincloud wasn't above me; it was my brain. Yesterday morning was more of the same.
But something started to shift.
Oddly enough I think the change started while I was pulling garbage out of my car in a donut store parking lot. I was late for an appointment at an auto-body shop. It was a pre-repair assessment of an insurance claim that I'd made two years ago, so I was a little nervous that they might balk on the basis that I'd waited so long to get the work done. For no reason, except that it took me two years to get around to it. Some people don't get that. I'd planned to be extra-well dressed and groomed, totally presentable and in no way resembling the sort of shifty person who might be trying to do something... shifty.
I'm not shifty. I am, however, totally disorganized, overwhelmed, and shockingly unmotivated. I guess I nailed that look, since I had bed-head and no make-up, which is not a good look on a forty-something mom.
Any how, in my effort to appear presentable and encourage the collision shop to the repairs that my insurer had agreed to fund two years earlier (and just generally preserve the ragged edges of my self-esteem), I stopped at the donut store parking lot to clear all the garbage out of my car. As I carried multiple handfuls of crumpled cups, snotty Kleenex, and God-knows-what-else from my car to the garbage, under the bored eyes of the drive-thru lane, I was mildly aware of the police car parked behind me. "No, officers," I brain-messaged them, "I'm really not discarding evidence of a crime here... Trespassing maybe, but I promise, I'll be right back here to buy coffee as soon as I can."
Somewhere in that humbling process the fresh air, activity, shameful thoughts, and slightly-less-gross car interior, started to distract me from the shameful thoughts of the past few days.
When I got to the body shop, the long line-up made me feel less-bad about being at least 15 minutes late. The place was full of worried customers and exceptionally calm and friendly service people. Smart business model. No one's happy about needing collision repair. (If it weren't so predatory, opening a bar opposite a collision shop might be a great idea.)
More outside hustle and bustle shuttling to the rental car place and back and then wrestling all the crap in the back of my SUV into the tiny rental car. You know, the dirty dry-cleaning. The two lampshades I've been meaning to drop off at the thrift shop because they're fine, but not fine in my house (and I finally got them off of my dining room table and into my car this week). And the two child car seats I've been hauling around for two years, because they're unusable post-accident but if I can just find my receipts and deliver the car seats to the right government safety agency they'll reimburse me...they say. Seriously, I ask myself -- they'll need to fix the body of my car from the inside? Why wasn't I informed about this?
Finally, 45 minutes later, I'm in an immaculate, tiny rental car, full of my crap, and I'm free! Free except for my crap. Back to the donut shop for breakfast and some calls to figure out where to unload these child car seats. I do have the receipt in my wallet. Google tells me that the automatic reimbursement program was discontinued a year after my accident. Hmm...  I sit on hold for a while until my tea is done and then hang up. Because... that's who I am???
Whatever, I'm, "on a roll." True, I had accomplished nothing, but that's how I felt. Which is a far more productive feeling than usual, so I'm going with it. I resist the temptation to drive straight to the thrift store and stick with my plan (I know!!! This never happens!!!) to deliver a health-insurance form to my psychiatrist's office. I open the form and realize that I have to complete the first two parts. I make two calls to get info that I need to complete my parts. I complete them, add a note to my doc, and deliver it, three months after receipt. I am relieved. I may be reimbursed for hundreds of dollars in prescription medication sometime this year. I need the money. Badly.
Next stop: thrift shop. It's mid-Chanukah, three weeks before Christmas, there's a light snow, and I'm not the only one at the donation doors. We're all parked at crazy angles, like we rushed there to defuse a bomb or something... and we smile crazily at each other after unloading -- We did it! We unloaded some of our crap! We feel good!
So good that I remembered and did not even avoid dropping off the dry-cleaning.
So, yes, I still had two unusable infant child seats wedged in the rental's hatchback, but my psychic load was a little bit lighter. Exactly two lampshades, one bag of clothes, a form worth several hundred dollars, and the start of an old car repair lighter.
Anyway, then I got home, I got waylaid (that means I lay down and reacted to whatever had arrived in my email inbox), I didn't do the important work that I'd promised my husband I'd do, and the auto-body shop forgot(?) to call me when my car was ready, so I had to drag my son along for the rental-return-and-car-pick-up process, dinner was late, and I was late for the PTA meeting, where I volunteered for yet another task (why the #&*% can't I think before words come out of my mouth)...but, but, but, the good vibe from accomplishing just a few little tasks, it endured, beaten and bruised, but still faintly glowing.
And so today, though my son was late again, and I hang my head in shame about that, and I really want to do the right things, I also wanted to take 5 minutes to note how mood-changing it was to accomplish just a few little things.
That was at least an hour ago, and it's past 10:30 already, so I better get at it. Today, I am cleaning my office. It's a biggie. And buried within it are financial docs that we really, really need. (Involuntary sigh.) Wish me luck. I'm going in there, for a good, long, productive haul. I think i can, I think i can... 

Just a log book on the web with a song 20151110

Tuesday. My day started off great. I had a shower! Early! I felt so good I even made up a song in the shower. It went something* like this:

It's going to be a good day; it's going to be a great day!
It's going to be a good day, 'cause I got up early!

I stretched my bones out. Now I'm in the shower. 
It's going to be a great day, 'cause I'm on top of it. 

Whether it's a hot day, or whether it's a cold day,
It doesn't matter, 'cause it's a long day.

If it's a slow day, or if it's crazy, 
It's going to be a good day. I'm not lazy!**

Obviously I'm not a poet. More importantly, I haven't exactly lived up to the promise of that moment yet today. Although I did get my son to school early!
Since then, I've cut and filed my nails and cuticles, which was not on my to do list (but did need doing).
Okay, enough of this, I'm off to accomplish good things... which always fills me with the dreaded thought that I'm not going to accomplish all the things(!!!), shudder, but... where the fuck was I? Breathe breathe breathe. I'm going to accomplish a few important things.
I'm going to wash and then hang the cold laundry.
I might do the dishes.
I'm going to deposit a cheque and pay a bill.
I'm going to pay some other bills.
I'm going to the dentist.
I'm going to work on my group therapy homework.
I'm going to pick up my son and make supper.
And I'm going to make tiramisu for my friend's party tonight.
So I better find the recipe and buy the ingredients too.

[Update: I did not make Tiramisu. I cannot even believe that I thought that I would. I know myself better than that.]



*Literally, because I really don't remember exactly how it goes.
**This phrase disturbs me, but I picked lazy because it rhymes with crazy. The point of the verse was that even if I don't get a lot done, it will still be a good day.

Just a log book on the web 20151109

Doing what I can to avoid the lure of the internet. What's so compelling about it anyway? No porn, no gaming, no gambling, whatever. I ditched Facebook (so much interesting information!). Down to Pinterest which is full of dull promoted pins anyway.

It's avoidance, but it's also compelling. That's the surprising part. Either way, it's best avoided. 

You know you have AD/HD when... you're distracted by the length of your nails on your crappy MacBook Pro (ha) keyboard.  

I pulled up the blog post this morning all pumped up to write to help me focus productively this morning. 

First problem: email notifications. 

I'll probably regret this because my mindless chatter makes me cringe, but at this point I'll try anything. 

OK. It's 10:05. I have to leave for a group therapy appt. at 1:00. I'll pick up my son straight after school and I promised to play Minecraft with him, but I also have to feed him supper by 4:30 so he can make it to a 5:30 activity on time. Apropos of... I should clean up the kitchen this morning. But I also have banking to do (oh yeah), and reading and homework for my group therapy. Crap. Screw it. The banking can wait one more day, most of it anyway. We're so far in the hole; what's a little more interest...

In future after Thursday's group therapy I'm going to start my reading on Friday morning. Block that off in your weekly schedule: Tuesday and Friday mornings for therapy homework. 

2'45" left. 2'15" after a shower, at most. I should do laundry too, and I still need to work on my calendar, pay the overdue bills, etc. (oh God the office, taxes, cupboards, etc.). 

Exhale. 

Group therapy is the priority. 

Have a shower and get out of here and get to work. That is all. Make french toast for supper (because it's easy). Clean the kitchen later. Clear last night's dishes and pull up the table cloth and the dining room will be good as new, except a few crumbs. 

Just shower and gather and go.
......
Nov. 10
Well, that didn't work so well. I jumped straight from there to googling something about planting beneath cedar trees (no joke), because that was urgent, this being six months from planting season and all. Exhale. I did, however, get showered and do some work before my group and got to the group on time. So that was good. Better than it could have been.

Moved to tears by my own clutter

[Something I wrote a few weeks ago but didn't post at the time.]

That happened today. [i.e. I was moved to tears by my own clutter... and the sense that it's not getting any better and the fear that it won't.] Not the first time. Not the last, probably, but trying to do something about it.
I got a burst of energy from an unlikely source: kicked around on the internet until I was running late for the exercise class I'd agreed to start today -- and thought, "f#%* that class; I need to clean this house!"
Apparently if I'm behind in enough areas, I can procrastinate one (or more) to tackle another.
Seized the moment to strip the sheets; load the washer; hang some shirts; and take 2 cans of paint from the deck to the basement.
Aside:

Those 2 cans of paint have been sitting on our deck for about 2 months.
And to think I've been telling myself that I need a POOL because we didn't use our backyard this summer. Face the reality sister (yes, I just addressed my self as a sister, which is a sibling that I don't have, but could really use... anyway, moving on... right... where was I? ...the reality... oh, yeah). The reality is that I didn't use our backyard all summer because I couldn't stand to be out there reminded of my complete inability to put away the crap on my deck, let alone pull the weeds out of the ground. The many, many weeds. 

Anyway, I'm rambling on. 

[Yes, but it's interesting how writing for a few minutes can bring to light something obvious that I've overlooked for months. I really should re-read King Lear, least-enjoyed literature of my high school education.]

The point of this post was to track my accomplishments today.
Here's the thing... It might be motivating for me to track my accomplishments. I'm embarrassed by this, but right now I'll try anything to help get me out of this slump. So here goes, starting with what I already did...

• Stripped the sheets (our bed)
• Loaded the washer
• Hung two shirts -- threw the rest back into the laundry because they're wrinkly
• Took 2 cans of paint from the deck to the basement
• Threw out an old duvet cover
• Vented to husband re (self-inflicted) chaos and inability to cope with said chaos. Husband vented back, angrily, about his inability to cope with my venting at him. He appeared to be on the verge of a heart attack. 
• Called my psychiatrist's office, intending to vent at her for a change. She, of course, does not answer her own phone. Made an appointment for tomorrow morning. WROTE IT DOWN(!).
• Asked husband to PLEASE stop dropping whatever he brings into our home right at the entryway. Clutter at the entryway is making me fucking crazy, filling me with shame, and prompts me to close the curtains. The shady shame makes me feel worse.
• Located psychologist's appointment card and wrote it on my calendar too (the day after tomorrow). 
• Looked up and wrote down 4 other appointments.  

Keeping it real and stopping the swirls

I plan to write more often, just to spill some of these thoughts out of my brain and onto a page... or screen.
Typical weekday here, which I'll share to invite all those who would bash me. No, no, I'm not actually going to sign this and send it to anyone who knows me... I might be crazy (and who would know, because really, what is crazy?), but I'm not into pain.
But yes... The type of day that I'm trying hard to put behind me!

• Woke up at 7. 
• Husband initiated physical activity. (Actually that's not typical.) Weighed options: good wife vs. get up early and be productive. Beloved husband tolerates all sorts of unproductiveness on my part: he wins. 
• Checked emails and weather (still in bed).
• Got up about 8. Made breakfast for my son ("DS") and helped him review words for a spelling test today. 
• Left the kitchen to shower. 8:10 already. Decided not enough time to shower. Decided to instead go on Pinterest and then make his lunch. (Yes, I scorn my poor decisions.)
• 8:28 Got up, gathered DS's clothes, and told him that it's almost time to go to school. DS howled in protest, predictably (watching a video). Got him more food, more milk, prompted him to dress, made his lunch, ate a little breakfast myself, prompted him to brush his teeth, etc. 
• Drove DS to school, arriving just after the first bell. 
• Broke the school rules by dropping DS off across the street from the school. Observed by another member of the PTA Executive, who gave me a mournful look. 
• Came in, texted my accountability buddy re my intention to shower in 10 minutes, and started scrolling Pinterest.
• Despite my accountability buddy's reply, my good intention, and a lack of fun or inspiring pins in my Pinterest feed (enough already with the suggested pins, Pinterest -- you're ruining your product), more than an hour passed before I got up again. 
• Unpacked a suitcase and put dirty clothes in the laundry hamper. Carried it part of the way to the basement, and then had second thoughts. (Who does that?)
• Medicated. Showered, shaved, brushed, flossed, and removed chipped nail polish. Moisturized. Dressed. 
• You know it, Pinterest. 
• Made tea and grabbed a granola bar for lunch.
• Sat down at my desk and powered up the laptop. Came to Blogger and read an inspiring and expressive post...and started to write this.
• 1:30, here I am. 

So, why did I want to write all that? Well, I feel calmer now. Less distracted by the piles all around me and throughout my house.
I'm overwhelmed, frankly. The internet is my respite, distraction, but there are much healthier distractions. Meditation, say. Or exercise. 

Okay. My goals today are:

1. Consolidate all my calendars (fridge, portable, digital), school notes, appointment cards, etc. into one portable, paper calendar. 
2. Make myself a daily & weekly schedule. 

Everything else, all the chaos that swirls around me, and the bills, and the reading and exercises for my depression group, and the note to DS's teacher, and rescheduling my hair appointment... you will have to wait. Which is so, so hard. 

That is, doing any thing knowing that there are so many things (yes, I see you waving there overdue taxes) jumping up and down (yes, you too overflowing kitchen cupboards) and hanging off my back, weighing me down and grappling for my attention... is shockingly difficult. Go away all of you, before I switch gears again. I mean, surely I should pay the overdue bills first... Ugh. No. Calendar, you are first, and in you, a to-do list, because without you I continue to be tossed about, utterly unmoored. You too, note to DS's teacher, she doesn't want you on a Friday afternoon anyway...

So this is AD/HD and me. This constricting feeling in my throat...

Ah. A friend texts an invite for coffee. A sweet extension from someone who cares, someone whose father is ill. Someone I'll say no to, again, with regret, because I must do what I must do, despite regret and guilt and concern and the desire to be a friend and to have a friend...

I hear you now, naysayers -- or is that my inner voice? -- 'stop moping, stop whining, and get a life...' 

Just keeping it real here, trying to get myself on track. Feeling that swollen throat and that knotted stomach. Taking a deep breath and going for the calendar. Let's make this happen, self.