Crazymaking

Have you ever heard of the term, "crazymaking?" It really is a actual word. Crazymaking is what psychopaths/sociopaths/verbally abusive people do to make you  think you have lost your mind and/or create enough chaos that you cannot think clearly. Things like claiming you didn't say something you did, claiming they said something they didn't, making up something to argue about that you should have known about via osmosis, etc. Crazymaking continues to freak you out because the (usually) guy in question will say how much he loves you, then say, "what is wrong with you? I don't know what you are talking about. You are too sensitive." You begin to doubt how you feel, because sociopaths tend to be with people who are emotional beings (sensitive to others, anxiety prone, striving to do the best thing). So by claiming you are the one with faults, you get to spend all your time analyzing what you did, why you did it, was it really you, what can you do differently, all the while the sociopath is moving on--watching a movie, working on his car, oblivious, or actually unsympathetic to what he just caused.

The sad thing is crazymaking is just so crazy making, that you need a mac truck to make you realize it is happening to you. It becomes a part of your life slowly, creeping like a strangling vine, so that you don't realize it has sucked all the joy and happiness from your life. In one way I was very blessed. What happened to our family was horrible, but it woke me up from the crazymaking that kept me at bay...unable to enjoy life to the fullest...always worried...always analyzing...always doubting my self. Now being independent, on my own, something I thought was not possible, IS possible and I am a much better, happier, sane person because of it.

If something eats at your soul and makes you continually unhappy...run, don't walk, to the nearest exit. You CAN do it.

Common Sense or the Lack Thereof

I headed to the Goodwill, toddler in tow, to, hopefully, grab an item someone told me was there. But, as usual, said item was gone.

But of course this is not the end of the story, because the toddler who likes to shop is with me. I have a Masters degree, but I have yet to master a 3 year old. Although I tell her to pick one item, we suddenly have 10 with the cute, "please Mommy" plea that follows. I pride myself on getting the booty down to 5 items and head to the check out which is completely empty.

Me: My daughter has this bag of change she has been saving... since there are no customers, would you mind counting it up and letting her buy her things?

Clerk: Sure.

Me: (whisper Mommy voice) I can cover whatever is left as obviously she bought too much stuff.

Clerk: No problem.

At this point clerk starts counting money in a way that seems incredibly slow. The teacher in me wants to help, but waits, not wanting to offend. At this time a customer approaches so I help said clerk count the remainder.

Me: Here is 50 and there is 42 (cents, pointing to piles).

In the interim, said toddler has lost all interest in her newly acquired junk and is enamored with the automatic door. Overly taxed mom worries this might lead to a run out into the parking lot, so my gaze is on her.

I pay minimal attention as the clerk says the total (14.82) and proceeds to ring it on my card.

I stand there, attempting to watch my toddler and wondering why the girl is not putting away any of the change. She just stands there...grinning.

Me: Are we good? Are you putting the money away?

Clerk: That's your money.

Me: I'm not following, you counted it to use?

Clerk: You said you'd pay for it so I rang it all on the card. I'm sorry, I thought you wanted it all on the card.

Me: (in my mind) Did you seriously think I asked you to count out 6$ in change so I could take it back? Does that make any sense?? Do people regularly do that? You must be joking?

Me: (in real life--scrambling to pick up 6$ in change) That's okay, I'll just pick this up and use it...next time...

Missed Opportunities

Hindsight is 20/20~so cliché and yet so true.

I look back, many times, and realize the signs were there...I just didn't realize they were signs.

I now look back and say, "If only I had left when that happened...if only I took that opportunity and closed the door on that part of my life."

I remember the first opportunity..to close the door...it presented itself like a knife in my back.

He seemed rather distant, uncaring, and rude. I remember trying to tickle him or something and he pushed me down onto the stairs. It was a rude push, an "I don't care if you get hurt" push and I remember feeling hurt, not physically, but emotionally although looking back it could of been a little of both.

Not long after, he disappeared. Up and left...I remember thinking he went somewhere but the somewhere turned out to be his home town, 1200 miles away. There was no goodbye, or honesty, nothing. As I recall, he wouldn't even answer his phone.

What does a 20 year old do but cry and beg for him to come back. I remember his lame excuse that we, "never did anything fun" and I was lame enough to promise him I would change if he came back. Mistake #1--never change yourself to please another.

I remember him dating while he was down there...and telling me about it. Mistake #2--don't settle to be someone's second.

But I was desperate...I was what no one ever wants to be---unwanted. And I was desperate to be wanted again.

He eventually came back...I can't recall how long he was gone or what finally made  him come back but this has to be the biggest regret looking back.

"Good riddance" today's me would have said. "I don't want someone who is so disrespectful, uncaring, and mommy controlled." But today's me wasn't there, it was the idiotic, naïve, incredible hurt me that didn't want to be "unwanted" and "unloved."

And so it goes.

Do you ever wonder where your brain is? This is a question I ask myself frequently, but more so today...how do you use up the fabric softener and go to do the second load of clothes and think, 'did I use up the fabric softener?' Resulting in a peek in the trash to confirm, yes, you have officially lost your ability to think straight.

Multi tasking can be a good thing...I hate wasted time waiting for a doctor appointment or any appointment for that matter, and that handy-dandy phone obsession can help me do SOMETHING with that wasted time, even if it is scrabble... However, multi tasking because you are a single mom with too much to do and not enough time is not a good thing. It leads to brain confusion and THAT my friends, is definitely what I am suffering from.

Since I am a teacher, my summer has been spent leisurely sitting poolside sipping martinis...NOT! Summer has yet to come for me! Unless you call sitting on the mower a summer event...Instead, I am class bound...attempting to cram 2 classrooms of educational materials into one small space because the school is adding a teacher. Looking at all the wonderful things sitting piled up with no home to go to as said school doesn't think kindergarten needs more space and deserve to be inside...drives me to distraction. I fumble from one item to the next, 'hey, where does this pen go? (walk to pen can) Oh there is that missing tub (walk past pen can and completely forget task at hand). My hours end up being frenzied realizing I am not getting enough done...did I mention this is summer? And I am NOT paid to work summer? Sigh.

Kindle, AKA the Hoarders Best Friend

Hoarding is in the family...on both sides....luckily, I can recognize it and (attempt) to avoid it.

I grew up seeing hoarding in action when I would visit extended family members. Things were stacked endlessly in corners, on top of tables, on top of furniture, EVERYWHERE. Things were kept unnecessarily as if someday they might become useful: empty milk jugs, empty paper wrappers, empty containers of any sort.

Don't get me wrong. I am the Recycle Queen. I see the problem with an use and toss society. There is no AWAY, as in throw it AWAY. It goes in the ground somewhere and sits...for decades...hopefully decomposing, but if its Styrofoam...it's still waiting there to haunt you like some sort of Styrofoam Zombie Apocalypse. All it needs is the ability to get back out of that hole...

But I digress...

One of the things stacked was BOOKS. Because, what do you do once you've read a book but stack it? Granted, rich folk may have a room built with shelves and call it a library. But poor folk (or anyone less than middle class) stacks it and eventually runs out of room...

In the past decade I have seen more and more second hand book stores where you can turn in your book for credit on more books and hopefully keep your house cleaner. However, for the hoarder that doesn't work as they think, "what about when I want to read that book again? And it's gone forever?"

Now the problem is solved! The Kindle (and all it's relatives) were created!

I am new to Kindle, just got one with Christmas gift funds, but after loading several books and a bunch of sample books, much to my amazement the Kindle never gets bigger...it still takes up a tiny bit of space. Heaven for said Hoarder in Teacher clothing who cannot afford a bigger house.

Now, if I just had a Kindle for all the paperwork one acquires as an adult...or a Kindle for all the VHS tapes I have that I cannot afford to throw away(mainly because I cannot afford to replace them with DVDs). And a Kindle for toddler toys that seem to be taking over the house at an every increasing rate...

Kindergarten Rules

Nothing takes your mind off everything like teaching kindergarten. As soon as you enter the door with 18 bustling little bodies, so happy to see you, so happy to converse with you, so happy in general, whatever adult crap you were dealing with is immediately forgotten.

Yesterday was the first day back after Spring Break. Prior to SB we had set up our leprechaun traps (homemade) in hopes of catching one. Alas, we didn't, but they did leave footprints, gold dust, and notes for us in their wake. They also ate some candy from the traps ;). The kids were beyond ecstatic to see what had happened. The joy in their eyes was amazing. It was, in their words "The best day EVER!" And the good thing in kindergarten is that the number of best days is not limited, but infinite.

Teaching kindergarten these last 3 years has been the biggest blessing. Through my whole ordeal of court, trials, rumors, small town talk, newspaper articles et al, kindergarten has been my secure plateau from which I can watch the flash flood go by. Sure, the rain still hits you, and it's not the best of days, but the storm will soon pass, and hopefully, what is left is a renewed landscape ready to blossom and grow..

Changing View

Ever try typing with a cat on your chest? An hour reading my Kindle with the cat lounging near my feet, but bring up the lap top and WHAM! There's the cat.

Reminds me of control. Obviously, the cat is not trying to control me. I probably woke her up during my jaunt to let the dogs out and she thought, "Hey, loving person to go sit with." But nonetheless her act reminded me of someone who would always have something they wanted to do when I was busy. You know the type? On the phone to anyone that's not them, and they are suddenly in desperate need of your time or assistance and will huff, puff, and pout until you are off. And no, I am not referring to children, but a significant other.

Working hard on a paper? Apparently they can't tell as they interrupt you numerous times. In the middle of shopping and tell them you can't talk but they don't care? They just keep on talking. Tell them you prefer X for dinner and they make Y? I wondered how many times I could state that I didnt like butter pre-added to rice during cooking before someone listened.

I think the epiphany was when I realized I would purposefully look for something to do--the dishes, the laundry, whatever, when he would enter the house rather than be on the computer. It didn't matter that I was hardly on there, or whether I was on there 2 minutes before he came in. I would still stop what I was doing to avoid being seen as wasting time, or doing something unimportant, or by God, enjoying myself. There was a clue in itself that I was in a controlling relationship. Control by manipulation and anger. There, I said it. It's not easy to admit, and honestly, hard to figure out when you are in the middle of it. But I have been reading a book that seems like it was written just for me and it tells me I wasn't crazy. I wasn't overreacting. It happens to the best of us, slowly, over time, like a vine that grows so innocently but eventually strangles the plant who gave it it's undivided support....

The Haves and the Have nots...

Posting again, already...why not--sleep is really over rated. (Note to self: look up the definition of sleep as I'm pretty sure I have forgotten).

I read that little newspaper insert today, you know that one, Parade, where they tell you what people make. I typically finding it very interesting and imagine myself in said new career with higher pay...but WHOA this years list was a shocker. Most people either made a lot, or nothing. The spread between the haves and the have-nots is growing at an impressive speed. People were listed in there with very low salaries, $15,000 for the school bus driver who ensures our kids safety? 25,000 for  woman who works on something to do with literature and the arts. I think I was in such shock I blocked it out.

Lately, I have felt sorry for myself. A single mom, a teacher with a Masters Degree in education, and yet I make 40,000 a year. Go ahead, be impressed.  A wage should allow the wage earner some sort of comfort to the effect of being able to be useful in the economy (ie go shopping). Yet with the constant increase in bills, the constant bills coming in, and the constant need for something (note I said need, we are not even talking about wants!), I am continually one step away from the Asylum for the Poor and Indigent.

Am I thankful for what I have? Yes, everyday. But there is something wrong with a society that values actors and athletes over teachers.

There is something wrong when a woman with a Masters Degree cannot afford to support 1 child comfortabley and not worry that eating out 1 time will cause a negative bank balance.

There is something wrong with a woman being required to have a man in her life in order to survive and thrive (via two person income).

However, unless Channing Tatum plans to share his wealth with teachers at large, I am not expecting any changes soon. I am growing our future leaders. I am shaping their minds and souls (AND I LOVE it!) and yet to do so requires me to live in poverty. Something stinks in suburbia...

My First Blog

Random thoughts roam my head with nowhere to go...a little long for FB, a little rude for being a kindergarten teacher, a little TMI for people in general...so, my mind says, let's start a blog! Not like you have the time as a single mother, kindergarten teacher, and animal rescue volunteer, but go ahead, you try and we can reminesce about this attempt later...

Are you a Pinteresty person? Do you go on there and virtural hoard for hours never making the actual jump to doing the things pinned? That's me! So last night I created a board titled, "Things to do NEXT WEEK." Thinking that oughta give me the nudge I need to get moving...Of course, I didn't post any recipes where food turns out looking like literary characters...No, we needed to start with easy. And what's easier than a curtain rod under the sink to hold spray bottles. Ingenious, isn't it? Look at the space I can create with that rod! Wait..you say...why is there a spray bottle still not in its rightful place on the rod? That would be because apparently the Pinterest queen who posted this either used empty bottles (since I rarely clean, mine are pretty full), or otherwise failed to note that, "hey, remember curtain rods are only meant to hold CURTAINS, and curtains are typically light, not heavy bottles of liquid...so if you are thinking of doing this at home...use empty to near empty bottles or risk the utter colapse of said great invention."

So there, at the kitchen I stood...ready to be amazed by my ability to not only complete something from my virtual hoard, but to do it ALONE,  without a man. Sighing as I realize the last bottle to add would indeed lead to ruination of said perfection. No matter how tight I attempted to make that bar, it would still not defy the laws of gravity at play here. Hanging that last bottle was akin to pulling out the one piece of the puzzle that you know will cause the tower to fall.  Oh well, Pinterest: 3, 240 Me: .5 for effort.