Creature of habit

I am a creature of habit. I am addicted to planning. When things do not go the way I expect, then all hell breaks loose in my mind, & I am unable to handle it. I mentally and physically can not wrap my head around it.  The joy of OCD & ADHD.

This can result in the form of outbursts, tantrums, meltdowns, or break-downs.  My son and our dog also appear to be like creatures.

Dunkin Donuts has the worst coffee on the planet. And, if you ask for half-dozen glaced & half dozen chocolate . . . They give you chocolate cake donuts.  I’m sorry. I’m a 5th gen Texan. If we want a cake, we just make a damn cake. We don’t need one in the shape of a fucking donut!!!  Also, my husband’s grandfather came to this country from what is now called generically Slovakia, & if you think a mini-sausage in a biscuit dough is a Kolache, you are misinformed. A Kolache is like a danish-like pastry, but with a sweet filling, like poppy seed & honey, fruit preserves, or cream cheese.

Yet another bastardized food menu item.  Why do Americans do that?  We find a cool word & use it, not knowing wtf it is?  And who the fuck ASSUMES ppl actually WANT a cake donut?? I have hated Dunkin Donuts since I was 7 because of cake donuts!! I mistakenly asked my late grandfather, Bill, for a chocolate donut, not knowing what I meant, he got me a dunkin donuts chocolate (cake) donut.  Now, after my son was so disappointed he didn’t get a chocolate-glazed donut he cried.  I know that feeling. I hate that feeling.  You have your mouth set on one thing, & you are given something completely wrong. I hate Dunkin Donuts.  And even more now cuz he had to go thru that same experience.  Plus – I think day-old burned-gas-station coffee tastes better than theirs. 

Starbuck’s may be owned & run by a bunch of tree-hugging, pansy-ass, hipsters . . . But they can make a fucking coffee taste so good that for half an hour, you feel better about mankind.  

And what is it about little boys & leaves??? I beg my son not to play in them, for fear of a tree asp or spider biting him, yet he always does.  This morning, instead of paying attention to the placement of my fingers as I closed the heavy, metal door, I was telling him to stop, just as the door slammed on my finger, breaking it at the tip. It has throbbed an hour & a half now. I hate hearing a bone crunching sound coming from my own body.  Now I gotta back out my car from the garage, dig for the extention cord, get the leaf blower out & blow every motherfucking leaf in this complex off the trees from the driveways, & into the pool!

If I survive living here it will be an act of God. I’m beginning to think He hates me.  I mean seriously. My greatest joy, I have to share with my ex. When I do have him, I’m not able to spend time playing with him . . . I just want to run away.  What would happen if I called in sick?  Sometimes I am afraid he & Diva would be better off without me, but I am too selfish! I would die without them.  I really couldn’t live without them.  I would die of a broken heart.  Perhaps God just enjoys watching me suffer & struggle? Family members with Cancer, grandmother has Alzheimer’s & doesn’t even know who the fuck she is . . .

Have you ever loved someone so much you would do anything to make them happy?

And realize you can’t do anything TO make them happy?? I just want my son to be a happy 8-yr old boy. I want him to grow into a good man. 

I want Cancer obliterated.  I want a cure for Alzheimer’s Disease, & all neurological & spectrum disorders. And . . . An end to hunger & homelessness, & all of our troops back home!!

Diva already loves having polished finger & toe nails & her favorite color is – pink!! I just want her to start speaking English already!  And behave.

And both children to miraculously do what is asked.  The 1st time it is asked. I just want a happy family. Where we are all well & functioning.  I realize now that is impossible, yet I continue trying.  I’m not sure if that defines insanity, or tenacity. However, am leaning towards insanity.

Damn, my finger hurts!! I’m gonna go clean the house with my broke-ass middle finger while Diva & hubs take a nap.

Pray they sleep till 3.

Don’t judge me

So I used the dust buster on my daughter tonight . . . Just to clean up the mess of rice all over her. Then I gave her a bath.  I sweep my floor multiple times per day, & just couldn’t do it again.

Damn dog, that’s his new name (behind his back cuz I don’t wanna hurt his feelings) ain’t getting a walk tonight.   Diva is having problems breathing, & I’m not leaving her crib side.  Fuck it. I got doggie training mats – 80 of those bitches, too. 

I will forever be in debt to Maxie Dog,  as we call him. He was by my side when I was in an OCD hell. He stood by the door while I was sick b3cause I missed Boo so much I couldn’t handle eating, sleeping or living without him. He cried when Boo cried, & was just a tremendous dog. He is even gentle around Diva – which is more than I can say for her. 

He can’t help we have an apartment now & not a backyard. He can’t help that a small baby came in & stole our hearts & attention. So, I will put down doggie potty pads for him when we can’t go on walks . . . Just a few more days, & I’ll walk him all around. Hell, I may even take him to the dog park on Sunday . . .

God help me. I am trying my absolute best. I even made cream of mushroom soup for casseroles (say NO to Campbell’ 1500 mg sodium, plus BPA’s from can), & made some chocolate candy.

Yes, I cook when under immense stress.  I’m a “stress cooker”.  I can’t stop the voice in my head screaming, Hubs will be home soon!”, so it’s hard to focus on anything, other than Diva & Boo.

Some days, I really hate having ADHD, but at least I can name it, own it, & try to work with it, or around it. 

Ya’ll be good.

Radio silence

My husband’s been in Mumbai all month. He’s still there now, in fact. It has sucked dockey balls!!!  I initially trued to be positive, & thought good; It will give us both time to appreciate each other.   After day three, we were both appreciative.  By day 9 I was seriously losing my shit.  Day 12, & I was grasping at sanity like a stray hair on the back of my sweater that I could see in the mirror, but just couldn’t reach. Day 15 . . .

Let me tell you about day 15, today. We have missed a few days of speaking here & there due to the drastic time difference.

Someday, I will need to know how the fuck we get 11 AND A HALF HOUR time difference . . . Seriously. Where the hell does a half-hour play into this???? Someone, somewhere needs to fix that shit.  I digress . . .

Okay, so day 15 starts like this. I have a throbbing headache, but NOT a migraine, which, I am thankful for (it’s November, just pretend you’re on FaceBook), Diva is awake at dawn because this is day 5 of her “cold”, & Boo stayed with his dad since I kept him all last week, which added to days 9-12 being FUCKING HELL ON EARTH, I go down to get her some fresh water, and notice the dog not whining to go out . . . I already know what I’ll find.  He peed a frigging river 5 times last night, so just poop, which I will forgive.  Oh hell no!  *Three words you NEVER EVER want to hear a Hot Southern Mess say* That motherfucker pissed a lake on the entry tile & took, what looked like, two shits!!  Again, I say, awwwwwe Hheeeelllllllllllll Nnooooooooo!

Diva now has a cough & tugging at her ears. My head is throbbing, as it’s Dallas in Fall & my dumb ass forgot to take my medicine for allergies/rhinitis, so I scoop up the shit, waste the last of the paper towels sopping up his piss, jerk his collar & leash on him, open the door, & as he runs out, another dog runs in. WHAT THEEEEEE FUUUUCK?!

“Lulu, no, no, baby. Come back here.” Stunned, half awake & without a clue, I stand there in my doorway.  Stunned.  Like a damn deer in some headlights.  “So sorry.”  I should have kicked that guy’s ass.  If for or no other reason than having a girly dog, AND named Lulu.   Never mind it FUCKING RAN IN MY APARTMENT!!! Lacking coffee, they both got to live today & yeah for me! Another day I didn’t go to Jail while Hubs is gone. Vodka has had an enormous impact on that.

Okay. So back inside with dog boy, head throbbing, I call the pediatrician, who is booked, but worried, so can see us in about an hour. Shit! Gotta hustke, but can be done. Fuck everything else I planned to get done. Take 4 ibuprophen, Allegra, *fucking ass* nose spray, pure sang oil all over my face, some ACE for my fat ass, washed down with some Gatoraide, & we are off to see the dr.

Get to dr., & no infection, “on the end of the cold it gets worse . . .” Blah, blah, blah. Was just there Friday . . . Uuugh. Run to Target, & the medication prescribed has recently been discontinued & will “require a dr authorization to “. . . Suck my dick.  THIS after going full-on V-8-Jaguar-driving-Tawanda against a Honda Odesdy in the parking lot over the perfect space . . . I won, by the way, then gotta go get Boo from school.   He had a good day. Yeah!!!

Get home. Feed Diva, Boo, & me late lunch/snack. Change Diva.  After a few minutes, I smelled shit, I asked if she needed a new dipee. She tugged at her pull up.  Ok. On the table, I rip off one side, then she grabs her pull up & stops me, just as I feel warmth on the inside of her pull ups.   She finished going pee. I asked her if she was finished and she smiled.  “Good girl,” I said as I tried to rip the other side off.  Took too long, I guess, & she started pulling at it & kicking . . . Yep. Shit was all over both of us.

That about sums it up, right there.

Before I was re-married I had order, structure, & a schedule.  Since Diva it has been chaos & confusion.  My life is just a blur of from-bad-to-worse, with little highs & lows scattered about here & there.  But it was me & Boo. For six years we were each others world. I adore Diva, but since Hubs has been gone I have realized that I have been sucked into this vortex from hell into the Diva Abyss.

My son will be half-way grown before she exits toddler-hood. The days are passing me by. And the days with Diva are spent on chores and/or errands. I just want normalcy. Something familiar. For us all to not only function, but have fun together. I want every item in this apartment thrown out. If it is not essential to life, let it be just gone!! No trying to organize the clutter, or moving shit from here to there.  I want a home. I want to be settled, my mind to be calm, & to watch my kids enjoy life, instead of keeping them from killing one another, or causing injury to themselves. 

Words of advise: if you have ADHD &/ or OCD-have only one child, unless you have a maid and or nanny. The guilt is overwhelming, & you can NEVER, ever get everything done AND be the parent you want to be, let alone, the person you once were for yourself or your spouse.

So there.  That’s the reason for my radio silence.  And . . . This morning’s little poop on the tile incident . . . Has happened now 4 times in the last 15 days.  He misses Hubs, too. And his daily long walks with me.

Peace, ya’ll. If you have it, cling to it for your life!! If not, then we’ll keep looking & hoping for it together.

Life’s too short to be boring or unhappy!

Losers quit!

Truth. Losers quit. It’s too hard. I don’t feel happy. It’s just not working out. There has to be an easier way. There are always tons of reasons to quit. They are called excuses. Excuses make you weak. Then you give up & quit. Yes, that makes you a loser. When faced with adversity, a loser runs away. When a loser is unable to flee, they simply quit. I don’t like losers. Never have. Probably never will.

Winners are no stronger than the losers. However, the winner finishes the race. The winner sticks it out, despite pain, resistance, sadness, loss defeat, strife, and being completely overwhelmed, just to spit in the eye od adversity. No excuses. Winners get it dine, no matter the cost.

Today I am missing Hubs. He’s in India on business. However, my kids need me. My dog depends on me. And by God, I can & I WILL do this!  I could not fall asleep last night, but damn sure could right now.  But now, Boo needs me to get him from school. Then, he & Diva will need dinner. Quitting sounds soooo tempting, however, running away or hiring help is not an option.

My OCD meds help me take back me from the point of being a loser & giving up. They make me drowsy, but they give me the power to get up & leave my house. Sometimes, tho, I have to force myself.  That, my friends, is being a winner!

Peace to you all, & may you find that strength through your adversity!

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