STUFF THE INTERNET THINKS I NEED RIGHT NOW

I feel like this should be a reoccurring post. Like maybe once a month or so, I’ll give you an update on the ads that flow into all of my social media feeds. Most recently, the Internet believes that I desperately need new bras. This is probably true. I do tend to wear one bra until it is falling apart and even then, I will continue to patch it back together with string, staples, and/or gorilla glue. In return, I am inundated with videos of women of various ages and sizes jumping up and down in a bra. Every time I open Facebook, my timeline becomes work inappropriate. So, the added benefit here is that I just don’t go to Facebook during the day.

Now I will straight up admit that some of the advertising coming my way is my own fault. Yes, I have googled “weight loss + menopause”. I am not menopausal, but I was curious and planning ahead. I am considered perimenopausal and thought that might have something to do with my weight and mood. Which it does, but there’s very little scientific journal articles regarding this topic. This leaves me wide open for all the snake oil ads for losing weight after a certain age. My favorite ones are videos of senior citizens doing jazzercise. I have managed to convince the interwebs that I am indeed sixty five years old. I get all the ads for leak proof under things, as well as all the anti-aging miracles and magic vitamins. Most recently, mushroom coffee has taken an aggressive lead over magic vitamins.

By far, my favorite ads are centered around campers and camp gear. These ads are one hundred percent my fault. Ever since we decided to get rid of our camper, I’ve been window shopping for the next thing. I have a list of wants in mind and I can waste a lot of time scrolling through camper layouts. I’m really leaning towards a van because I want something I could use on my own. I have a growing list of needs and wants. It must include a bathroom. It must be easy to pack and maneuver about. It must be reasonably priced. Of course, this is all subject for change since the list of needs and wants go beyond a new camper. A new driveway. A new kitchen. There’s always something.

Except mushroom coffee. I’d like to think I’m sane enough to never fall for that one.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

I was perusing my recent copy of Yoga Journal and it is pretty much two pages of poses and thirty pages of mental health articles. Meditations, doshas, mantras, pranayama. All things for relieving anxiety and depression. As I’m reading through them, I started to question my own mental health. During the weekend, I overheard Chad ask Michael how we all did during the pandemic. Michael said “Cindy did great!” Which tells me that I am deserving of an Academy Award for best actress during a pandemic. I know why he partly believes that I have been just fine and dandy is because I have lost weight, but weight loss is not a good indicator that someone is mentally doing well.

I lost ten pounds when Chris died.

All of my conflict, despair, anger, anxiety…all of that stuff happens internally. I might get a slight tone in my voice or snip back a response to a question I think is a dumb question, but for the most part people do not know that on the inside I am a knotted ball of mess. All of the things I did last year were activities performed as a way of dotting i’s and crossing t’s. I thought that if I just kept moving, everything is would be okay. On top of that, I took on all of the things that required interactions with people outside our household, while doing my best to be supportive of those within my household who were convinced they were going to get COVID and die. I did a lot (still do a lot) to make the lives of those around me easier. I do this even though it is often one sided and I have always done this, but the pandemic added an extra layer of work for me to do and I am tired. How has it become the woman’s job to ensure the comfort of others at the expense of their own comfort?

It is not my responsibility make other’s lives easier.

I feel a shift, something bubbling up inside me that wants a different way of life then the one I am living, a life that isn’t focused on other’s needs and a little more focused on my own needs. Part of this change will require me to reclaim some independence and just do things. I need to stop depending on people who have never really proven themselves to be dependable. I need to dust off my meditation pillow and dig out my journal and colored pencils. I need to remember my own value and I need to start unraveling that ball of mess. Today, I am grateful for recognizing my own needs.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

I am currently in Oklahoma visiting Mom. She had a fall on Monday while raking leaves and ended up with stitches in her forehead. Michael saw the picture my sister sent me and he said “We’re twinsies!” Mom is fine. No concussion or anything life threatening. She’s just a little bit bruised. I had planned this trip before her fall, but now I especially glad I made the trip down this week.

I have not seem my mother since February.

I know that there are many people who do not get to see their parents on a regular basis. I know that being able to see my mom as often as I do is a privilege. I have always been the one that would go off to camp and never call home, not even once. When Mom took me to preschool on that first day, I dropped her hand and walked right on with barely a wave goodbye. I am a terrible daughter. I do not call Mom once a week or even once a month. I think about calling her. I will send a text or mail her a random card, but I am not good at talking on the phone.

So these one on one visits, when I can see my mom, are important for our relationship.

There is a habit I have had since I was small. Early on weekend mornings, particularly if it was cold, I would crawl into bed with Mom. We would both be awake and often we would whisper talk to each other about what we were going to do that day or what to make for breakfast. I still do this. Whenever I am visiting with Mom. I still crawl into her bed and we talk about coffee or how long we did or didn’t sleep. We talk about getting up and getting the day started while we pull the covers up over our shoulders. I am forty four years old, but I will never ever be too old to crawl into bed with my mom.

I am really grateful that I got to that this morning.