***I apologize ahead of time for the less positive theme of this post and the one before. This blog is where I told myself I would let out some of my feelings in a calm and sensible and (hopefully) intelligent way and these posts are doing just that. A lot of these are simply me typing my thoughts as they come up. I promise that it won't always be this way. The content that these posts are about came up within the past short while and have prompted a lot of thinking.***
I have been thinking about friends a LOT lately. I realize that I am a terrible friend when it comes to keeping in touch. Seriously, I suck. There have been more efforts made as of late, but hardly anything has come of it. It's not completely my fault, though... So many of you have moved so far away and have families and chilluns like myself. Funny how they tend to turn their mommies into hermits...
Recently a college friend got married and had a reception in Bountiful. (Bountiful...why??? So far away.) Despite my best efforts, I was unable to attend the reception and felt quite terrible. Today I sent a congratulatory message to my friend and he responded "I was wondering if you'd be able to make it to the reception and was sad when you didn't, but I guess that's only fair cuz I didn't make it to yours either. :)" That thought never even came into my mind until he said it. I know that he was only joking, but it made me realize something that makes me quite sad: Some of the friendships I have are contingent upon how many brownie points I can earn with them. Whether it be showing up and bearing gifts to bridal showers or baby showers or weddings or birthday parties or concerts, what have you, if I missed one or more of these events, I was suddenly blacklisted and it was difficult to contact the person. Now, I understand how it feels to have your turn to have a big event and have high hopes of seeing your old friends come show support and wish you well as you did for them on their various days of awesome only to have those hopes dashed by the tiny trickle that shows up. My wedding reception was especially disappointing because I had invited basically every good friend I had made from pre-school up to college and very few made it. But I always gave those people the benefit of the doubt and figured that they had something come up, or they were strange like me and receptions made them sad, or it was too far away. Something simple like that. It made me sad, but not to the point that I would all but sever the ties with those people. It's such a trivial disappointment that it more or less just rolled off my back after a day or two.
What ever happened to being friends because of similar interests, values, backgrounds, or just simply liking them for who they are??
Aside from that, I also found that there are some "friends" who despite my increased efforts to reach out and help/talk to/catch-up have not only been blowing me off, but also spreading untruths and very hurtful things concerning myself and dear Mr. Fox. Now, I will take some tough words and have a little cry then move on, but I will not tolerate someone speaking ill of my loved ones, especially when it's false speculation and borne out of spite. No fly zone. There is simply no need for such nonsense in this world or in my life.
Maybe these conditional friendships I recently found are ones that I don't need to put so much work into anymore. The most lame thing of all this is that I still really care for these people and want to do everything I can to let them know that I'm there for them, even when they are unduly mean or upset with me. However, let's just be honest here, I can't afford to be really choosy *sarcasm* what with my overabundance of social life and throngs of friends at my door *end sarcasm.*
That last sad sentence moves into another thing that I have been dealing with for the past few years: I really have no friends in the flesh. I have short bursts of friendship online via facebook (as much as I dislike FB, it is the only thing keeping me in touch with so many people who are so far away now) and that's all good and fun when I'm stuck at home, but I haven't really gone out and spent time with actual friends in person for many, many months (yes, even before I was pregnant). There is the occasional brush with someone at a baby shower or bridal shower, but those are fleeting and you are usually there to give the attention to the guest of honor. I don't really count those as "hanging out" because it isn't something that you and another person set time aside for and made plans together. This situation is exacerbated by the fact that I really do not have a great ward for making friends. It is a "newly wed or nearly dead" ward that has many BYU or UVU couples and very young families. Since most, if not all, of these couples are students they are only around for a semester amount of time and then they are gone. Because of the extreme transient nature of the young couples, the older members more or less put themselves into a bubble and let it happen around them and are not into making young friends who will most likely be gone in a few short months. I honestly can't blame them because they are comfortable with how things always have been and don't have the time or energy to remember all the names of the youngsters who breeze in and out of the congregation. In addition to this, I am quite introverted and intimidated by nearly all of the young Sisters and have a difficult time strumming up the courage to get to know them. I'm almost 26 years old and I still have "popular/pretty/mean girl" anxiety like I had while growing up (I will elaborate on that more another time). Pathetic, I know, but that's how I roll.
So, what's a gal to do? I think this ward-specific problem will more or less be solved once we move into a house and are settled for a more permanent stay, but it's a real downer in the meantime. I know that getting married and having kids typically means the near-death of any social life or friendships that I may have, but I don't want that to happen. If I could have just one good girlfriend with whom I could bond and have girl time and be friends for years I would be soooooo happy.
Well, that was yet another installment of Stephannie's lameness. I hope any and all persons who just read this go out and get (maybe with THEIR friendsies!!) a favorite treat to cheer themselves up with... I know I am as soon as Mr. Fox and I get home from looking at houses tomorrow. That mood will for sure need a little sugar boost. =)
As always, thanks for reading the dribble (a British term as a nod to the 2012 London Olympics) I put up. ;) Lata.
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Monday, August 6, 2012
The Snowball
WARNING: This post is quite disjointed and the result of a lot of late night rambling and emotions. Read on at your own risk of boredom, confusion, or exasperation.
So, it has been nearly four months since my last post. Honestly, I marvel at the folks who do a worth-while and entertaining post DAILY. Masters of multitasking.
That brings me to what I was venting about to Fantastic Mr. Fox earlier this evening: my feelings of inadequacy and lack of utility. An important thing and disclaimer that my reader(s) needs to understand is that I have some problems (as do many, many people). Some of the biggest and most destructive problems are misplaced guilt, comparing myself to others, and extremely low self-esteem/image. The perfect storm for an evening ruined and pretty much all of what I'm about to delve into has something to do with these concepts.
As I mentioned, I have a very nasty habit of comparing myself to others. For as long as I have memory I have done this (yes, breaks hearts to think of a small 3-4 year old doing such a thing) and it has almost never been a good thing. I have many flaws and I am terrible at keeping the demons at bay who like to remind me of those flaws.
Since the day that Baby L. was born I have felt like a failure as a mother. Slightly melodramatic, yes. As I understand these feelings are pretty typical for first-time moms (especially when the PPD takes hold) because of the huge life-altering changes that are rapidly happening and usually fade as they get the hang of their new gig and the post-delivery hormones balance-out. Unfortunately, these feelings have not gone away for me. They have become less intense, but they still linger on a nearly daily basis. I tearfully told Mr. Fox tonight that it is because I love Baby L. so, so much and want to be the perfect mom and that he deserves the BEST momma in the universe, which obviously is not me. I do my best and I feel like I barely squeak by. To a spectator, I think I would appear to be doing just fine and have little to complain about, but to me, I am light years behind where I think I should be. I don't understand why it is so difficult for me to juggle caring for him and the rest of what is going on in my life, but it is and I beat myself up for it.
In addition to these feelings, it snowballed and I went on to apologize for the sad state of our 4x5 sq ft dark basement apartment (I jest about the dimensions, but only slightly...) and how it is not so beautifully decorated or is never fully clean and always has toys and dishes and laundry out of place. You would think that having such a small place would mean that it is very easy to keep neat and tidy, but you would be sorely mistaken. If anything, it makes it more difficult because there is nowhere to PUT anything. Everything is stashed hither and thither throughout the place and little grabbing hands pulls everything out faster than I am able to track. Before we had Baby L., we were already pushing the limits of space and were using one of John's (my father in-law who's basement apartment we live in) upstairs bedrooms for the excess and storage. We didn't (and still don't) by any means have tons of stuff or were in danger of becoming hoarders, but bring a little baby and all the necessities that come with that baby into the mix with a couple in a single bedroom dwelling and it quickly became a sardines in a can situation.
As the snowball that was this vent of feelings to Mr. Fox caught speed, I went on to express how I felt like I couldn't do anything that I enjoyed or needed to do because of the smallness of our place and the difficulty of caring for Baby L. in such a place. The designated living room serves as at least eight rooms: Living room, dining room, nursery, computer room/craft room, family room/play room, guest room (hide-a-bed in our couch), and dressing/hair/makeup room. We are currently on the hunt for a house, but it's very frustrating and emotionally draining and very time consuming. Add that to the 24/7 Baby L. and Fox Family duties, and The Nest is never going to revive.
I see my friends and family who are married and so happy and doing so well with beautiful homes, beautiful self, and effortlessly raising their babies and I can't help but think "What's wrong with me? Why am I unable to do it all?" I imagine that these are also very normal things to think to a degree, but it is almost obsessive with me and it drives me nuts. It always pops into my head when I see these people and their homes and their families.
I realize that it's not right to compare what you have with someone else because there are far too many life variables that lead you to where you are and where they are. I know it's irrational and not productive, but I still do it. I want to be better at everything: cooking, cleaning, raising my children, teaching, decorating, gaming, sewing, creating, singing, piano-ing, befriending, smiling, writing, exercising, church-ing... The list is endless. How do they do it??? I ask you honestly, HOW??
I so want to be the mom/wife/woman who does everything with so much grace and poise. Everyone sees that woman and knows she has it all together with a happy home, happy family, happy husband, happy friends, and happy self. Is it impossible? Maybe someday.
So, it has been nearly four months since my last post. Honestly, I marvel at the folks who do a worth-while and entertaining post DAILY. Masters of multitasking.
That brings me to what I was venting about to Fantastic Mr. Fox earlier this evening: my feelings of inadequacy and lack of utility. An important thing and disclaimer that my reader(s) needs to understand is that I have some problems (as do many, many people). Some of the biggest and most destructive problems are misplaced guilt, comparing myself to others, and extremely low self-esteem/image. The perfect storm for an evening ruined and pretty much all of what I'm about to delve into has something to do with these concepts.
As I mentioned, I have a very nasty habit of comparing myself to others. For as long as I have memory I have done this (yes, breaks hearts to think of a small 3-4 year old doing such a thing) and it has almost never been a good thing. I have many flaws and I am terrible at keeping the demons at bay who like to remind me of those flaws.
Since the day that Baby L. was born I have felt like a failure as a mother. Slightly melodramatic, yes. As I understand these feelings are pretty typical for first-time moms (especially when the PPD takes hold) because of the huge life-altering changes that are rapidly happening and usually fade as they get the hang of their new gig and the post-delivery hormones balance-out. Unfortunately, these feelings have not gone away for me. They have become less intense, but they still linger on a nearly daily basis. I tearfully told Mr. Fox tonight that it is because I love Baby L. so, so much and want to be the perfect mom and that he deserves the BEST momma in the universe, which obviously is not me. I do my best and I feel like I barely squeak by. To a spectator, I think I would appear to be doing just fine and have little to complain about, but to me, I am light years behind where I think I should be. I don't understand why it is so difficult for me to juggle caring for him and the rest of what is going on in my life, but it is and I beat myself up for it.
In addition to these feelings, it snowballed and I went on to apologize for the sad state of our 4x5 sq ft dark basement apartment (I jest about the dimensions, but only slightly...) and how it is not so beautifully decorated or is never fully clean and always has toys and dishes and laundry out of place. You would think that having such a small place would mean that it is very easy to keep neat and tidy, but you would be sorely mistaken. If anything, it makes it more difficult because there is nowhere to PUT anything. Everything is stashed hither and thither throughout the place and little grabbing hands pulls everything out faster than I am able to track. Before we had Baby L., we were already pushing the limits of space and were using one of John's (my father in-law who's basement apartment we live in) upstairs bedrooms for the excess and storage. We didn't (and still don't) by any means have tons of stuff or were in danger of becoming hoarders, but bring a little baby and all the necessities that come with that baby into the mix with a couple in a single bedroom dwelling and it quickly became a sardines in a can situation.
As the snowball that was this vent of feelings to Mr. Fox caught speed, I went on to express how I felt like I couldn't do anything that I enjoyed or needed to do because of the smallness of our place and the difficulty of caring for Baby L. in such a place. The designated living room serves as at least eight rooms: Living room, dining room, nursery, computer room/craft room, family room/play room, guest room (hide-a-bed in our couch), and dressing/hair/makeup room. We are currently on the hunt for a house, but it's very frustrating and emotionally draining and very time consuming. Add that to the 24/7 Baby L. and Fox Family duties, and The Nest is never going to revive.
I see my friends and family who are married and so happy and doing so well with beautiful homes, beautiful self, and effortlessly raising their babies and I can't help but think "What's wrong with me? Why am I unable to do it all?" I imagine that these are also very normal things to think to a degree, but it is almost obsessive with me and it drives me nuts. It always pops into my head when I see these people and their homes and their families.
I realize that it's not right to compare what you have with someone else because there are far too many life variables that lead you to where you are and where they are. I know it's irrational and not productive, but I still do it. I want to be better at everything: cooking, cleaning, raising my children, teaching, decorating, gaming, sewing, creating, singing, piano-ing, befriending, smiling, writing, exercising, church-ing... The list is endless. How do they do it??? I ask you honestly, HOW??
I so want to be the mom/wife/woman who does everything with so much grace and poise. Everyone sees that woman and knows she has it all together with a happy home, happy family, happy husband, happy friends, and happy self. Is it impossible? Maybe someday.
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