June 9, 2007

Confrontation a la Grocery Store

Dawson awoke at the crack of chaos demanding “tricky surreal wiff miwk.”

I awoke not surprised to find out we’re out of milk.

Since the Doodlebug had no intentions of eating a “waffo” instead, I got dressed in my sweats and a stained t-shirt and then took Dawson, still in his pajamas, to the store.

When I pulled into the parking lot of Copps Food Center, the very store that my husband works at, I saw a car pulling out of the third stall from the store’s entrance.

I pulled in closer and put on my signal to indicate I was going to take that spot once the car was out of the way.

To my surprise and dismay, a man in his late 50s pulled forward from his stall into the one I was waiting for. He decided he wanted to be able to pull forward instead of backing out of his original stall. His wife got out of the car and headed into the store, while he sat in his truck and waited for her.

I was pissed. There was absolutely no reason for his behavior.

I rolled down my window and called to the driver, “Sir, I was waiting for that spot. I had my signal on and you saw me.”

“Screw you, lady. There are other parking places,” he said.

“Did you just say ‘screw you’ to me? That was completely uncalled for.”

“Lady, I’m much older than you. You need to learn to respect your elders.”

“You may be an old fart, but that doesn’t give you the right to be an asshole. Get a clue.”

I thought about just driving around the aisle into the spot he vacated to steal mine. That would be the easy thing to do, right?

I don’t know if it was the fact that I didn’t get enough sleep or if I was forced awake by a demanding two-year-old, but I was not in the mood to take this guy’s crap.

I inched my car right in front of his truck and turned off the engine.

“What the fuck are you doing, woman? Get your piece of junk out of the way.”

I just smiled politely and waited. The man threatened to smash into my car and I just kept smiling. I smiled for 15 minutes until his wife came out of the store. The look on her face showed annoyance and embarrassment. I didn’t care.

When she was in the truck, he demanded once more that I move my car or he’d crash into me. I just smiled and waited, almost daring him with my eyes to do it.

“Move your g*ddamned car!” he yelled once more.

“Screw you, dickhead.” I responded. I was tired of smiling at that point.

Luckily for me, no one parked in the stall behind him and he finally backed out and drove away.

It was the most empowering feeling. I proceeded to park my car in my place and Dawson and I went inside to get the milk.

A woman in the foyer of the store smiled at me and said, “I wish I had your balls, girl. That was awesome.”

I smiled and nodded. You’re damned right it was, I thought to myself.

June 2, 2007

In Heavy Traffic Friday Afternoon

Driving home during the 5 o’clock rush drives me crazy.  I’m definitely known for dropping the F-bomb because I’m very impatient with the slowpokes in front of me, or those people who pass me and then move into my lane only to drive at a pace just under the speed limit.

What the hell is wrong with these people?

And the left turns?  I get so angry with left turns.  I’d drive in the right lane, but all the cautious (read: slow) drivers are in that one.

And so, when the speed demon in the red Mustang passed me, moved into my lane and then proceeded to turn left? 

I blew my freakin’ stack. 

I had Dawson in the car, so I made the conscious effort not to swear.

“Stupid jerk!” I yelled.

“Fuck dem cars!” I heard from the back seat.

My mouth dropped open.  

Apparently I have said the F-word in the car with Dawson with me.

I’m a bad influence.

But I laughed.  I was shocked, and yet I laughed.

What else was I going to do?  Scold the little boy for something he heard from his Mama (I can’t even remember when I said that)?

“That’s right, honey!  What you said!”  I replied.

(Photo Credit, David Pierce.)

May 31, 2007

The Hurdle

I’m exhausted.  Tired.  Depressed.  Ready to crawl into bed and sleep for days.

I barely get any rest these days.  I have no energy.  It’s a miracle I managed to organize some areas of my house last weekend.

I feel like I’m expected to go, go, go, nonstop; and I have to be perfect, because people look up to perfection.

• Do this, do that, be here, be there. 
• Clean the house, weed the flower beds, do laundry, argue with my husband about not doing the laundry.
• Get frustrated with Dawson when he leaves his toys all over the place, then feel guilty for feeling frustrated with Dawson.
• Resent my husband because he can take off on a whim, no guilt, and I’m jealous.
• Go grocery shopping, stick to the budget, pay the bills, argue with cable company about unnecessary charges.
• Go to church, volunteer my time to charity organizations even though I’m swamped at home.  Feel guilty for missing church because I am so damn tired and stressed.  Realize that church is the only quiet place I can go to reflect and pray and think.
• Always keep a smile on my face, even when difficult, because it’s not good to show people your weaknesses, they’ll hold them against you.
• Worry about my son; is he eating enough, is he well-rounded, is he smart, is he too skinny, but then feel stupid for worrying and try to stop.  Then feel worse for not worrying enough.
• Don’t tell my husband how I’m feeling because he may think I’m nuts or he won’t understand.  He doesn’t get that I’m overburdened and I’m not supposed to tell him because I’m Super Mom and I wanted this life, so now I have to be the alpha parent and deal with it.
• Cry about things that I can’t explain.  Cry about people having babies.  Cry about the dog and whether he’s loved enough.  Cry about the future and what it will bring.  Cry about my friends, and worry about whether or not they’re happy.  Cry about things that are so stupid it makes you cry even more.

Sometimes I have these moments of depression and I can’t explain them.  I always manage to climb my way out of the chaos, but I worry about the next episode. 

The funny thing is, I’ve tried the anti-depressants.  It just made me more out of synch.  My doctor doesn’t think I need the drugs because the things I worry about are normal.  Most mothers experience these feelings.  Normal.  Hah.

“It’s how you choose to handle what’s thrown your way,” he said.

I’m feeling like a crazy person, but I know I’m not crazy.  Crazy people don’t sit around and wonder if they are crazy, they just are.

My stomach is churning.  I might be hungry, but the thought of food is nauseating.

I’m….

I don’t know.

And, Erin.  Dear sweet Erin is experiencing some of this.   I want to reach out and hug her.  I want to tell her that she’ll get past this.  And she will.  But she doesn’t need me to tell her that.  She knows.  It’s just a bit cloudy when you stop the medication.  It’s a hurdle.  I’ve tripped on the hurdle so many times.  One day I will jump it.  Just not today. Maybe not tomorrow. Or next week.  But when the day comes, I’ll know.  I will know.

April 12, 2007

I’ve Been Interviewed

I love interviews.  I love learning about other people.  The fabulous author of A Mommy Story was interviewed by Mrs. Chicky last week and I thought it would be fun to answer a few questions.  Here’s how it works:  If you haven’t played yet and want to be interviewed, send your e-mail to thedanafiles [at] hotmail [dot] com.  I’ll send you five unique questions that you can answer and post at your blog.  Once your interview is posted, be sure to send me the link and I’ll link to it here so everyone can learn more about you! 

Here’s what Christina asked me: 

1. What is your greatest fear?

My greatest fear is dying young and leaving Dawson without his mother.  I can’t imagine not being alive to watch him grow up, to see him graduate from high school and college, to dance with him at his wedding and be there for him when he has children of his own. 

The logical side of my brain knows that Doug could always remarry and Dawson would have a wonderful step-mother, but is that really good enough?  How can you replace a child’s mother?  I don’t have any plans to die before my time, but ultimately that’s up to God and I worry about car accidents and plane crashes and tripping down the stairs and breaking my neck.  It’s a bit neurotic I know, but that’s the one fear that scares me most.

2. If you could choose between being rich (unlimited supply of money) or in perfect shape (at the perfect size with no exercise, and eating anything you want), which would you choose?

As someone who has been on the heavy, stocky side since the age of ten, I’ve always had issues with my body.  If you had asked me this question 6 months ago, I’d have asked for the perfect figure, never having to exercise and being able to eat whatever I’d like. 

Now that I’m focusing on Weight Watchers and going to the gym 5 days a week, I realize it’s up to me to change my shape and maintain a healthy weight.  Even though having a baby readjusted my entire body, I’m not as easily discouraged as I once was.  I’ve lost many inches and a few pounds.  I know I can’t expect to lose the fat overnight when I sure as heck didn’t put it all on in one day.

If I had unlimited amounts of money….Hmmm.  I hate typing those words because no good can come from being filthy rich.  I imagine I would turn into a spoiled brat like Paris Hilton or Ivanka Trump. 

I would probably have multiple plastic surgeries performed because I’d never be happy with myself and money would seem to resolve those problems. 

I believe I’d donate to charities and important causes, but would I be doing it for the sheer joy of helping others?  Or would it be done as a way to boost social status? 

Would my big house in the Caribbean really keep me happy?  Would my kids have a feeling of entitlement and decide never to hold a job and learn to be self-sufficient?

I suppose my answer is that I’d want neither the perfect body nor an unlimited bank account.  I feel wonderful knowing that everything I own, everything I’ve wanted, I’ve had to work for.  I thank my father for teaching me that valuable lesson.

3. What is the happiest memory you have?

It’s a toss up between my wedding day and the day Dawson was born.  Both are so very important to me.  These are the mile markers in my journey of life.  I can’t choose one over the other because neither would have been possible if I had not met my husband.  Love is a funny emotion.  It makes a person crazy, happy and goofy all at once.  Even when my husband drives me completely nuts with his quirky habits, I love him as much (if not more) as I did when we tied the knot.

Little Dawson, my Doodlebug, is the light of my life.  He is stubborn (like his Momma), determined (like his Daddy), intelligent (like mother), playful (like my father), observant (like Doug’s father) and cautious (like Doug’s mother).  When I look at my son, I see myself, I see my husband and our parents and all the personality traits he inherited from us.  I can’t imagine my life without the Doodlebug.  I thank God for giving me this beautiful boy.  

4. How many kids do you think Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt will adopt?

I think Angie (yes, I call her Angie) and Brad will adopt as many children as they can afford to love and care for.  They are very committed to their children.  I admire them as parents because even though they are very famous celebrities, they make time for Maddox, Zahara, Shiloh and Pax.  A nanny is not the primary caregiver of the Jolie-Pitt kids.  It’s wonderful to see how much they love their children.

5. Do you believe in ghosts?

I do believe in ghosts.  I think I’ve witnessed a few as a child.  I can’t remember much of the experience, but as a young child, I’d often talk to my grandfather who had passed away before I was born. 

My mother and grandmother would tell me the hair on the back of their necks would stand up because I would talk to my “imaginary” grandfather with such detail.  I had conversations about things I couldn’t possibly know about.  My mom thinks it was a way for Grandpa to communicate because he left this Earth too soon.  It’s strange to me, but it does explain my fascination with shows like Medium and The Ghost Whisperer.