A ship without a sail, boobs without a bra

I've been feeling a little blah lately.  I don't think my health is the greatest, and my weight has crept up and for the first time ever I can feel it effecting my everyday life.  I don't like it.

It took a lot for me to admit that to myself.  It's taking a lot for me to admit it here.  And when I tried to have a conversation with my husband about it, well I guess it was the wrong time and his response was to rattle off World Series stats.  OK, so my timing wasn't great, but he had just turned the TV on.  Just.  It's not like he had watched every minute of every game.

Of course, and really, I don't like to air my dirty laundry here, but sometimes.... well, I don't think I'm heard around here much.  Maybe it's martyr syndrome, but I do a lot.  I handle a multitude of actual paying "jobs".  I volunteer at my girls' school, we run the concession stand for the soccer club, I am a co-leader of one daughter's Girl Scout troop and leader for the other.  I do a lot.  But I don't think the other three people who live in this house agree.

My six-year-old seems to always point out the things she feels I don't do. Such as, make her dinner.  Because apparently when you make someone dinner and they wait 45 minutes to sit down, then decide they don't like it, and you won't make them anything else?  That means you never make them dinner.

I want to be heard.  I want someones full attention.  I don't want to be asked when I am going to pay the Verizon bill.  It makes me defensive.  I've tried to hand off the family finances and yet I am still in charge, so don't ask me those questions, with that tone.  Yes, that tone.  Well, I hear a tone.

I want to be told I am doing a good job.  I want to hear, "It's such a relief to have YOU take care of ALL of this.  Thank you for alleviating my stress."

I guess I am just selfish.  Perhaps needy.  Maybe I really am just brat.  Or maybe when I squeeze you tight because I am overwhelmed with love, I just want to be squeezed back.

All that, and physically I feel like crap too.  Happy Friday.

Groovy Kind of Love

Twelve years and counting...

September 27, 1997

Too Tired To Post

Tomorrow is my almost non-baby's 5th birthday and I have been getting everything ready for her party. Today I will make an abundance of cupcakes for her daycare group and her preschool class. But today is a significant day so I am going to cheat and link you to the post I wrote last year on this day. Add one year to all the time frames and the rest still stands. Enjoy.

February 26th