The reason why I never make my bed

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I rarely make my bed.  If company is coming over, I still may or may not make my bed.  It depends on who the company is and whether they already know about this odd quirk that I have.  You see, Sleep and I are not very good friends in general.  Most of you know that I deal with nightmares on a fairly regular basis.  I’ll make my bed when the sheets and blankets are freshly washed.  But here’s what’s amusing.  The first thing I typically do when I climb into a freshly made bed, is unmake it.  I love the smell and feel of freshly laundered bed linens, but I’m one of those people who tosses and turns.  Hard to toss and turn freely when you’ve been tightly tucked in.  I also tend to like to let my feet stick out – or legs, or arms.. sometimes I will lay sideways, other times I’m spread eagle all the way across the bed.  Sometimes I like to hide under the covers and pretend like I’m not there; and other times, I lay on top of the covers and forgo them altogether.

 

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I realize it’s strange, but to me, a messed up bed is FAR more comfortable.  I can mush the blankets up and around my face, or tuck them in-between my legs.  When I was sharing a bed with someone else, I always had the bed set up where I have my own blanket, and the other person does too.  And then a blanket over the top to hide the fact that there are essentially his and her blankets happening under the covers.  🙂  It worked, because I knew that my need to be weird with my blankets and sheets wouldn’t necessarily be something that someone else would accept.  Now that I’m not sharing a bed with someone else, I’ll admit, my odd sleeping habits have increased.  But I’m ok with that.  So long as my friends and loved ones who do pop over and occasionally see my unmade bed understand.  It’s not laziness.  It’s not being a slob, hey the rest of my room is clean, it’s a new way of thinking about something that traditionally was handled in a certain way.  Funny, in the kitchen, I can rival Martha Stewart…but house work… meh.

ImageWho am I kidding… I guess I’m just weird.  🙂 Happy Thursday everyone.

 

The making of a home…and memories

ImagePacking and moving.  I’ve spent the last week slowly making my way through 10 years worth of memories and stuff.  It’s been a great week.  The amount of stuff being donated or tossed is crazy, but in a good way.  It feels good to lighten the load and downsize.  I’m only bringing things into the new house that I actually use and want.  And today, my parents came and saw the new place.  I haven’t felt so nervous about a home in a while.  Would they like it?  Would they approve?  Or would this be a reason to question all that I’ve been doing with my life over the last year and a half?  They loved it.  They hung out for a while.  My mom ran around with my son, taking pictures so she could share with the grandparents.  My step dad made a joke about the front door that will now become a prank to be sure.  We talked about all my stuff.  You see, in my current house, I have 2 dining rooms.  I have 2 living rooms… a large kitchen… a library, a guest room and 2 kids bedrooms… plus mine and the bros rooms.  PLUS the garage.  It’s a LOT.  The ex took a lot when he moved, still has a lot here tho.  I’ve given away a ton.  I’m excited for the new place.  It’s a fresh start for me.  The house is .. well.. perfect for me.  It’s not too big.  It’s quiet and peaceful..the bro has his own space..away from everyone else’s while he figures out getting on his feet again.  I can even picture what I’d do with that space when he does move forward again. 

I had a moment yesterday.  I had some running around to do prior to going to my best friend’s birthday bash.  I decided to take some things to the new house and shower over there.  Be the first to shower in the new house…hehe, I know – I’m a dork.  I was there by myself, as everyone else was still at the old house packing up a van to bring it over.  I had an aria in my head, no clue how it got there, and found myself singing in my bathroom as I unpacked my bag.  I noticed the acoustics were WAY better than my old bathroom and it got me curious.  Imagine if you will, me, singing at the top of my lungs – which let me tell you – I can seriously belt it – walking through each room of my new house.  Embracing happiness, dancing to my own music… trying out different things with different room acoustics and singing like I haven’t in a long while.  I was having a BALL.  Then it dawned on me that any minute the van would pull up and I decided to cut the solo concert short.  😀  But all in all, it was good. 

ImageYou see, I have 2 ways of singing.  The singing I do “for fun” where I sound every day and normal and I’m just messing around…and the singing that comes from some place a little deeper.  I trained professionally for about 6 years or so.  Performed in a few musicals, many recitals and concerts, did a few football games things like that.  That’s when my vibrato comes out… that’s when I journey to some place else.  It’s fun.  But I’m shy to share it with others.  Well – I am and i’m not.  I’ll do it in karaoke occasionally.  They’re strangers.  But letting people I know hear me?  Meh… that’s nerve wracking.  It means so much to me.  I’ve lost so much just in the years I’ve stopped training.  My kids have heard it, Kristen has heard it, My bro, my ex’s.  My parents and grandparents.  Well – some of them, not all.  It takes a lot to earn that trust.  lol. 

Funnily enough, my real father has heard me sing.  I invited him once to a recital.  A bit more intimate.  I painstakingly chose the songs I wanted to sing.  My teacher’s had requirements I had to fit within.  I was allowed 3 songs.  No contemporary music was allowed. This would be the moment…the moment I’d show that man that his daughter was someone to be proud of.  I could sing and I wanted to wow the hell out of him.  I wanted to choose songs to explain how I felt.  As bad as it may seem, I wanted to make him cry.  I chose “Cry me a River” (Jazz), Wishing you were somehow here again (Phantom of the Opera), and a french aria that was about a woman who grew up and realized that she was a powerful amazing strong woman – despite her father.  hehe.   There were about 5-6 of us performing that night.  In a cozy little church.  In between songs, we’d sit with our families.  My dad showed up late and sat a few rows behind my parents and I.  I remember my mom passed me a note on one of the pieces of paper from the pews saying to not worry and to just BELT it.  she knew that was where my music ability shined the brightest.  I think she knew how important this moment was to me.  I got up there and sang..and sang..and SANG.  Each song was better than the first, because each time I got up there I had more conviction…and less butterflies.  My dad was in tears when it was done.  I felt like I was flying.  🙂

Running through my new house singing…made me realize just how much I want to make sure to make it a home.  I left thinking of decor ideas and all sorts of things.  And tonight, I spent a ton of time researching and getting inspiration on pinterest.  And I’ve come to kind of an interesting conclusion.  A happy one of course.  I went about building my home backwards.  And I’m so pleased I did.  I focused on me, my kids, my family and friends first.  Building those relationships to be strong and true at their core.  Spending time with them, quality time, not just superficial garbage.  We have tons of photos, paintings, quotes and sayings…things that mean something to us…those are going to go up.  This is going to be the coolest place ever – because it’s not the decor, or the material stuff that makes a house a home… it’s the people and the love in it. 

Goodnight never-land.  XXO

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What a ride life can be…

I received an email from my landlord this week. The owners we4re moving back and we need to be out by May 31st…and honestly…I am seriously stressed over it.  I’m handling the stress pretty dang well, all things considered.  Tonight I took inventory of the stuff in the house.  Wow. First off, I have a LOT of stuff.  The ex took a lot with him when he left, and still has more to come and take, and I STILL have a lot of stuff.  Funny, when you walk around my current house – it’s oddly sparse and empty – but it’s a 5000 square foot house.  The bro tried to make me feel better about all of it…”It’s a house worth of stuff.”  And yea, he’s right, but what really struck me was that it was a life’s worth.  A family’s worth.  Please don’t misunderstand.  It wasn’t sadness or longing that struck me.  I have absolutely NO desire to go back to that life.  I was so unhappy.  My kids were so unhappy.  What struck me was acceptance.  Trying to go through it all and decide what to keep and what to donate or sell.  Half the time I’d look through a pile of stuff or a collection of furniture and say “Chuck it all!”  Ok maybe it’s spring cleaning?  Out of an entire garage worth of stuff, I found maybe 3 boxes (and my scooter) that I want to keep.  That’s it!  I guess that should make moving a breeze.

Money.  God I hate it.  Have I ever said that? 😉  I do pretty well for myself – most of the time. Hence why I bought a car recently.  I was expecting to renew my lease another 6 months before thinking about moving.  Then the garnishment caught up with me. 25% of every paycheck and can I just say – DAMN that’s enough to really feel it.  But it’s only for 60 days.  I can ride that out.  Now, add up the cost of moving, first month’s rent, deposit money, plus the rent I’ll still have to pay at the old place up through May.  I know there’s a likelihood that folks will be willing to work with me a little.  I have a solid rental history.  Clear background.  Solid references and steady job history.  But my credit – always makes them do something mean like double the asking deposit…and I just don’t have it.

My mom gave me a bunch of grief about not having enough in savings. Actually – that’s not quite right – she assumed I had nothing in savings, which just burned me up a bit.  First off – none of her business.  And to prove that – I said “Mom – ok you tell me how much YOU have in savings.”  She of course wouldn’t answer that.  I have savings.  But it’s not enough to cover all of this.   She and the step dad also advised me not to ask the grandparents.  And they had valid reasons for it.  But that was going to be my next step.  Once I receive the deposit from the house i’m in now (20 days after I move out) … I can cover it all.

I’m going to go have dinner with my real dad.  Going to see if he has any side work I can do.  It takes a lot of me sucking up my own pride to go see my dad.  And it’s a weird mixed emotional bag…. part of me is excited to see him.  He’s my dad.  I’ll see my bro and I really like my dad’s new wife.  They are fun to hang out with.  But I also hate the fakeness of it all.  I hate the ache that I get when I see my dad interact with his kids.  He didn’t ever want to interact with me in that sense.  I hate the judging that happens.  I see this man maybe once a year… and everytime I do, it’s both lovely and wonderful and weird and awkward and awful and painful all at the same time.  He gets very affectionate – which throws me off… I don’t need a grown man I don’t know or trust to be all kissy kissy and tell me how much he loves me.  If that were true – we wouldn’t have the relationship we do.  Be real with me!  You had no qualms with telling me to my face that I was not good enough growing up.  That I’m overweight and can’t do what others do because of it.  That I am not at all a part of him, just my mother’s twin.  I know the lecture I’m going to get.  I know that you will do everything in your power to make me feel inferior, maybe not on purpose – but that’s how I will feel.  I know that I will have to sit and grin and bear it while I am in your home.  And I will.  I’m polite that way.  I know that you will get nosy and try and get details on every single aspect that is my life, and point out everywhere I’ve gone wrong…as if you were perfect.  Mister I cheated on every woman I’ve been with (hoping not the new wife tho, cuz honestly, she’s a gem and I adore her) and didn’t even have the decency to tell your daughter and family and that you had another child until he was 12 years old.  Or how about the guy who didn’t even call me when my grandmother passed away… or invite me to her memorial. Yea – you have every right to sit back and judge me.  The worst crime I’ve done is be overweight.  OOOOOHHHH…. lock me up and throw away the f-ing key.  I’m down a LOT of weight – and I know you’ll point it out.  I’m sure you’ll pretend to root for me and then lay on your lectures about how I need to live my life. I love the man… very much – but I also feel so conflicted about it all. Ugh – can you tell I’m looking forward to this visit?  NOT!  I look forward to seeing everyone else – But him.  I know I’m going to need some serious hugs and kisses and love when I leave.  A sanity check.

I will look at finding freelance work too, as much as I don’t want to.  In the past, freelance has always gotten me out of the occasional pinch.  I looked into tapping into my 401K but I REALLY, REALLY don’t want to do that.  It’ll be my very last resort.

I don’t even know where we’re going to move to.  I have some appointments set for this weekend.  But that scares me too.  $$ for application fees, credit checks, then they’ll want a deposit right there to hold the place and Bam! I lose the house.

I’ve gone back and forth with myself on whether to go on this mini vacation next weekend.  Whether it’s responsible with all that’s going on…but every time, I come back to the same conclusion.  Quite frankly, I need the get away.  I need a chance to recharge, unwind, quiet the mind a little.  I’ve spent 4 months effectively trying to drink from the fire hose at work.  I’m doing it for the most part.  The mind has been trying to soak everything up and it is a daunting task.  Bigger and more complicated than 10 times anything I’ve ever taken on before.  I love it.  Although the learning curve has given me a few moments here and there where I just felt awkward and dumb. I’ll get there.

 

Happy Friday Y’all!