Confessions of a Real Life Mom.

I don't really know how I've acheived it, but I've become this weird hybrid of emotional and I don't give a s*%$.  I am really working on my cursing, so pardon the middle school censorship.

I go from crying and being really upset to honestly not caring about what previously made me cry.  Maybe this is the natural order of things; you know, I get it all out and then I realize it's just not worth crying over?  ORRRR, maybe I cry more out of being overwhelmed with the other 293148293749 things going on and not really out of sadness?

I don't know why I do it, but it's weird.  Weird and a bit refreshing.  In those moments of hysteria where I am just a blubbering hot mess, I feel a bit helpless, insignificant, and weak.  Therefore, it's a relief when I get over that nonsense and move toward the 'whatever' frame of mind.

Apathy is annoying.  I don't understand apathy, so I'd like to think that's not the equivalent of my 'whatever' phase; instead, I'd like to think of it as more of a conservationalist phase.

Rationalization for the Conservationalist Phase:

Let's call yesterday's annoyance 'Brat' for purposes of this example.  Brat upset me and made me feel a bit invisible, so I wanted to make sure I was, indeed, a living person.  So, I made a lot of banging around in the kitchen because I was worried that I had actually become invisible (another rationalization for my behavior that we can deal with at another time).  Turns out, I was totally visible!  AND audible.

Granted, I am sometimes easily upset, particularly when I'm overwhlemed (which is like 99% of the time), but this is common knowledge to the people in my life.  If Brat knows that I get upset in certain situations, why would said Brat not do what it takes to avoid these situations?

I cried yesterday because I hate fighting with Brat.  More than fighting, I hate feeling like I'm unable to really describe what I'm feeling and, thus, coming off as Brat II.  So, I spend a few hours crying at work (totes classy - good thing no one really notices me there either), blowing my poor nose, and seriously looking a mess until it hits me.  WHO GIVES A FLYING .... ?  If you don't care, I don't care.

And so, I conserve my energy and tears for a later situation in which all parties care.

Completely rational, realistic, and effective.

Until I really get over it, I'll listen to "I Just Wanna Be Mad For a While" on repeat while glaring with this presh face anytime Brat looks at me:


{look of disgust.  total pro.}

 The phase that follows this hideous face is even better!  To be continued...