The Bush Years

I've been incredibly reminiscent this week and on the verge of feeling crazy. I know, how is that different from any other week with me? When did I turn into such a basket case?

It all started several weeks ago when I got this invitation in the mail:

For some odd reason, not for one second did I even entertain the notion of going. I blamed it on my circumstances and current role in life and simply thought "Too bad I can't go."

That was that and I was okay with it.

A week or so later, an old friend and former White House co-worker called to wish me a happy birthday. She mentioned the event and remarked, "You're going, right?"

I think I said something like "Pssshhh. Yeah right. I can't go to those types of things anymore. That was in my past. I'm a mom now. I have responsibilities. I can't just leave my kids."

She responded that I should just bring them along, to which I responded "That's not an option. Brian couldn't come and who would watch them in Dallas?"

At that point, I still was okay with not going. I still thought it was weird to even consider it.

Initially, in my mind, it was the hard core, senior staffers, or those staffers with mega political/Bush connections who would be going. But not me. I was just a lowly junior staffer. People like me would probably not be going. 

And then lo and behold, one by one, I learned that all my friends and former co-workers, and basically every former White House staffer but me, were going. Even the ones who had been in my lowly position. Even the ones who now had kids. ALL of them would be there. And I would not.

That was the turning point.

Suddenly it wasn't okay anymore.

Suddenly I wondered why I had dismissed it all so quickly. Why had I automatically assumed I couldn't go? I felt an overwhelming homesickness for my former life and former career. I wanted to be there with all my old friends more than anything. I wanted to be surrounded by all that political greatness, the American history, the perks of working for the president, just to sit with old friends and reminisce about the good old days. I really miss that whole atmosphere I used to breath 12+ hours a day. The urge to be part of it was so overwhelming it hurt.

I was so mad at myself for planning so poorly, for my once ambitious and go-getter mind having turned to mush for not thinking it was okay to allow myself to do such things anymore. I'm still not sure who would have watched my kids or how I would have worked out all the details, but I would have liked to have given myself the chance to at least try.

I broke down and cried for awhile yesterday and then called my sister, the one person who I was sure would understand. She didn't answer. So I cried some more and then was mad at myself for crying and told myself to get over it.

When my sister finally called me back last night, I thought I had come to terms with it all. I had even looked up plane tickets, but they were way out of my price range at that late in the game. I had no other choice but to be okay with not going. But when I heard my sister's voice and started telling her why I'd called in the first place, I lost it again. But you know what made it all okay? She broke down with me. She didn't tell me I was dumb for feeling that way, or criticize me for not figuring out a way to make it happen (although she did state what should have been obvious to me, "Britt, when you get invited to something by a former president, you just go.") She let me vent and told me I was validated for feeling how I felt. She told me that even though we knew getting married and starting a family were the right things to do, that it was okay to miss our old jobs/lives sometimes, too. Most important, she told me it was okay to feel the way I did. I didn't have to feel guilty about it just because I'm now a mom. It's okay to miss the past sometimes (as long as you don't get stuck there). 

So, by no ones fault but my own, I may very well be the only former Bush staffer not in Dallas tomorrow. Actually, there are a couple others not going, but only because they are off fighting in Afghanistan. So while they're doing that, I'll be fighting my own battles with my three-year-old, and trying to watch it all on TV. I will hear about it afterward from friends. I'll see their pictures on Facebook and Instagram. And I will have to be okay with it. And that is okay.

Updates

Insanity. Dang. It was hard, hard, hard. I could not have done it without Brian there pushing me every day. As hard as it was, we finished and I'm quite pleased and shocked with myself for carrying through with a workout like that, or any work out for that matter. The results? I do not look or feel like one of those before/after cases on TV. I don't have a six pack, and in fact, I may have only lost a pound or so. But, what I am happy with is that I toned up a bit and feel like I am in much better shape. That made it worth it to me. I'll probably try round two of it later this year. As for now, I have started doing Jillian Michael's 30 Day Shred, which seems like a piece of cake after Insanity.

James' crazy sleep habits are finally improving. And after my last whine-fest of a post, I realize as much as sleep deprivation stinks, life could be a lot worse. I am thankful I have kids at all, even if they torture me with their nighttime antics.

Last week James was being a bit too crazy around bedtime. He was also trying to be a cute brother and make his sister laugh by running back and forth across the living room and then diving across the floor. Well, on one such dive attempt, he got a little too close to the fireplace mantel. Poor kid got one heck of a goose egg on his head. It changes colors daily.

Livy is finally talking a little bit more. New words this week include: shoes and uh-oh.

The weather has reached the 80s here in Knoxville. We finally turned on the A/C this week. Park time is back. Oh how we've missed it. Livy is loving it. Her newest thing is to bring me her shoes and point to the door.

I hate cars. I guess I just hate when they don't work and it costs an arm and a leg to fix a part you didn't even know existed.

Couponing. I used to be so good at it and felt great at the massive amounts of money we were saving on groceries each week. I still try to do it but am not anywhere near as obsessive about it as I used to be. I've still been getting awesome deals on random things though. I'll have to do a separate post on my favorites.

My sister-in-law found an old book at her parents house called The Art of Homemaking. I started reading it as a joke. It was written in the 1960s and, although parts of it are quite humorous, I've never read anything more sexist or old-fashioned. But parts of it are actually really, really good, like life-changing good for this slightly feminist girl who hates cleaning her house/feeling like a maid, etc. It has led me to a new way of thinking and helped me develop a better attitude about it at least.

We've made these several times in the last few months. They are way easy and sooo much better than a boxed mix.

We broke down and bought season passes to Dollywood. Since we plan on being in Knoxville all summer, we figured we may as well have something fun to do here. We went for the first time last week. James and Livy both loved it. It was way more kid/family friendly than I expected. Definitely red-neck though, which was fully expected. Should be a fun summer!

Head on Over...

Ever try Kerrygold products? They're an awesome Irish dairy company that makes amazing cheese. We're doing a little giveaway over at Just Cook Already, so check it out for some free cheese or butter and an awesome cookbook:

http://www.just-cook-already.com/2013/04/giveaway.html

Ode to Sleepless Nights (or Woe Is Me)

For the second day in a row, I have a massive headache. You know it's going to be a long day when you wake up with one. Usually my remedy for any type of headache is sleep, but when your three-year-old wakes up two to three times (sometimes more) every night screaming bloody murder for 13 days straight and counting, and often refusing to go back to sleep, waking up every one in the process, you don't get enough sleep to remedy anything.

I am so tired. And cranky. And impatient. And overly-emotional. And every other negative quality a mother should not possess. 

All I want is for my boy to go back to sleeping normally.

The cruel irony of all this is that Livy actually started sleeping better finally. I could have finally been on the road to much needed rest (I haven't had a full nights sleep since I found out I was pregnant with her, a two year anniversary coming up in a couple months).

It all started when we got home from our three-week long trip last month. The first couple times he woke up screaming I just thought it was a fluke (he does it every now and then). But when he did it for three days straight, I knew we had a problem. It has continued ever since.

I tried being super sweet and sensitive to any fears he might have, tried reasoning with him, tried talking it out, etc. When that didn't work, the impatience kicked in and I got mean and yelled and threatened and ignored. Not surprising, that didn't work either. And then I just felt like a terrible mother.

I tried putting him to bed super early, tried reinstating naps, which only made it worse because most days he w/couldn't fall asleep and it just made both of us crankier.

I tried researching the issue to find solutions. So not helpful.

I prayed. But I was so tired and cranky I didn't feel like I was even in a position to receive any promptings that could possibly come. But I'm still trying. 

I finally broke down and have been an emotional wreck this entire week (I almost lost it at church when Brian got stuck at work, leaving my sleep-deprived self alone to handle two cranky kids on Easter Sunday. I really couldn't handle it and it was only exacerbated by the fact that we were sitting right behind a family who had two sets of grandparents with them and an aunt and uncle or two. I have really been missing family this week. Oh, and then James refused to go to his primary class. Something he has never done before. I wanted to scream and cry and go into a coma all at once).

I am in dire need of a night alone at a hotel. Or a real vacation without kids (something that has never happened). Or both. Too bad neither is a possibility. Brian is back to his crazy 5 a.m. start days (last night didn't get home until after 1 a.m.), so we're all walking around with bags under our eyes around here.

I'm so tired that I'm not even sure what the point is of all this except it has been floating around in my head all morning and I wanted to get it out.

So if someone could send some help my way, I will take it in the form of prayers, advice, a full-time nanny, or even brownies.

Until then, this little gem kind of made me feel better (but also made me cry) last night:

Now I'm off to take some tylonel for that headache, and to try and find a positive attitude, because I just know there is a lesson somewhere here for me.