The stuff that gets in the way.

So, I have a confession: I have been having a hard time keeping my shit together lately.  See also: Hashimoto’s Thyroiditis (fatigue, joint pain, muscle weakness, hair loss, and more!), See also: Miscarriage Anniversary Looming, See also: Financial Distress, See also: Marital Issues, See also: I’m a headcase.

And it is true that I have had something like Writer’s Block for some time.  I have long spaces of time when I believe I have nothing to say that you will be interested in reading.  I sit down and think, “Surely I can come up with something!” And I open a text file and I stare at it, thinking.  Nothing comes.  Nothing is worth coming.

Then, other nights, I write things, posts, in text files and then I do not publish them.  Because they suck.  You would think they are stupid. (So I tell myself.) This would be more like Sharer’s Block? Blogging Anxiety? I Suckaphobia?

And then there are all the things that won’t come when I sit down to write them to you because there are other things that block them – things I can’t talk to you about.  What I mean by that is I have issues I WANT to share with you, but it feels weird to talk about this thing when I know I haven’t told you about thoooose things.

Do I write about those things?  Hell yes I do.  Is the writing good?  I think so.  Will I share it with you?

I can’t.

Some things you just can’t post to the world because they aren’t only yours to post, does that make sense?

But the more of those things that I have, the harder it gets for me to come here and talk to you about everything else, like my friends.  That’s kind of how I’ve always felt when writing these posts.  I know it’s somewhat silly to think that way, and I’m not trying to be mushy and sentimental to win you over.  It’s just the tone I always feel inside when I write to YOU.

This is not an academic essay I’m writing – though I can write those, I’ve completed tons of them in my time, and none too shabby, I’ll have you know.  It’s not a performance piece, where I just need to elicit emotion with whatever works.  It’s not fiction, where I can spin any tale just to delight.  It isn’t a review, where all I really have to do is lay out the way it works and what I think of it.

It’s an ongoing conversation I’m having with you about my life.

When there are bumps that invariably happen from my life intersecting with the lives of others, sometimes I can’t talk about those bumps.  Because it’s not my place to have the conversation that they might or might not want to have with you about THEIR lives.

So then, I guess I just have to say, Friends, there is(are) something(s) that is(are) affecting me in some way(s) that we can’t talk about.  And now I have to find a path around that(them) so I can keep talking to you about my other life stuff.

And that’s hard for me to do.  I’m emotional and the things I experience have a way of leaking and spilling out onto the rest of my life.  I should learn to compartmentalize more.  I don’t know.

And maybe this whole thing seems STUPID to you, because “DUH, LOTUS. We ALL have things we keep to ourselves.  We ALL have stories we don’t tell everyone.  Hell, most people don’t feel the need to tell everyone half the shit you think the world needs to know.  I mean, really, you tell us practically every time you have your period. GET A FILTER.”  And OKAY, FINE.  But the thing is, I’m still developing as a writer and a blogger.  This place defined itself to me from the start as My Blog: Where I Tell You What Runs Through My Head.  My idea of “what this is” has changed.  I can’t tell you what runs through my head when I’d have to tell you that Mr. C did horrible thing Y and I want to strangle his face until it turns blue and falls off.  Because you know, Mr. C has privacy rights.   I can’t tell you that I have a constant issue with Problem ABC and I think it’s because Mrs. W did batshit crazy thing X and it impacted me in a really profound way.

I can tell you about how I feel, but I can’t always tell you why. And that’s kind of douchey.  But Mr. C and Mrs. W own their own stuff, and I can’t tell it for them.

My family and friends have privacy rights.  Those assholes.

So let’s just say, that among other things, it’s taking me time, in fits and spurts to keep telling you my stories without telling you their stories.

Maybe one day there will be a time to talk about those things.  Perhaps there never will.  I’m trying to find a way to be okay with that and hoping I can just move past it.

I’m learning that it IS okay not to tell you everything (zomg) but I have to say it out loud for some reason.  I think, if I say this out loud right now, it’s going to help me move this block.

For now, maybe just saying to you that I’ll tell you most of everything, but not some stuff, will help me climb over this boulder, that mountain, and occasionally kick those rocks out of my way, so we can keep walking this path together.

I mean, it would be such a shame to miss the colors this season with you.  The foliage is so beautiful just up ahead.

Space: In terms of family, it’s just a myth.

Today’s Photohunt Theme is “Space”

No matter how much space you have between you and the family members you grew up with, they can reach out and slap you as easily as if they were just whispering in your ear a moment ago.

It’s not just the fact that we are so connected nowadays, though that is what enables it.  But the slap is sharp and quick because they hold a part of you.

No matter how far away from you they are, no matter how long it has been since you have spoken or seen one another, they have the ammunition to bring you to your knees.

They know things that no one else knows.  They are always the quickest to offense and the most equipped to pull you down… and why is it that they always seem to opt to exercise that power when you’re finally lifting your head above your own sordid bullshit?

Many of us have stories that fall into this zone, this space of feeling and emotion.

Sometimes, I just want to stop hearing the ones that play over and over in my head. And I’d like to stop adding new ones to the list.

And if you could successfully edit the reel of memories that plays back inside of you from the past… would you even want to?

Can we appreciate the good times if we don’t have the bad times?

This double edged sword of emotions is piercing my heart today.

Googleballsuckery. Yep.

A week ago I
noticed that Feedburner was
consumed by Google.

Google purchased them
quite some time ago, yes, but
now they’re moving feeds.

Feedburner clients
must move all feeds to Google
lest they be destroyed.

Everyone’s all,
“O-M-G! I’m so scared! Don’t
want to move my feed!”

I was hesitant
but the threat of losing it
all drove me to act.

Know what Google is?
An Internet Overlord.
Better watch my back.

Speak of them poorly
and they might wipe me off the
Internet for good!

Screw it. I’m talkin.
Yesterday they totally
assed up my blog feed.

They dumped all my links
from Del.icio.us on it,
without my say so!

Readers were confused.
Probably a bit annoyed.
And me? Well I was

just really happy
that I keep all my Asian
porn on Digg instead.

(between you and me?
this Googleballsuckery
is pissing me off.)

Wishing the “easy” button really existed.

I’m a bit stressed out.
have you ever wanted to
unplug entirely?

I kind of want to
throw all my “technology”
out the damn window.

Not because I don’t
love it, but because I can’t
make it work right – ARGH.

A Whole Lotta Hodge Podge, Yo.

So, for today, you get a hodge-podge of totally random crap, just because it’s floating around in my head.  Aren’t you lucky!?

Why yes, yes you are.  (Just smile and nod in agreement.  Don’t disagree with the crazy lady.)

So, first off, when I did the post with the video of Braden and the Bubble Machine, several of you asked about the bubble machine.  IT IS AWESOME.  Just my humble opinion.  Braden has loved it from the very first time we used it, and, I will childishly admit that so have I.  I’m a sucker for a bubble – that’s why I call them tiny packages of happy – and a machine that spits them out non-stop is a machine Momma likes.

It’s from Summer Infant.  I first saw it from OneStepAhead, but you can buy it cheaper at Walmart.  (Those last 2 links go right to the product, btw.)  I picked ours up at a local Walmart, so no shipping and the base price was lower.  I made sure to tell you about both, though: for the cheapies (like me) and the Walmart Haters (like me, but who aren’t cheapies).

***

Next up, I wanted to mention that “Operation Potty Familiarize” has begun.  No, we aren’t exactly expecting Braden to be Potty Trained at 15 months.  What we do expect is that familiarizing him with it now will make things much easier in the future.  And?  He has peed a nice long pee in the potty twice this week.  YAY!

(And do you care? I dunno. But I like to talk about poop and pee, so there you have it.)

We have this Baby Björn potty:

given to us by my sister (the one he’s peed in twice), and we just bought this Graco potty:

for its many cool features (like cushioned seat, easy to clean collection bowl, and removeable ring for use on toilet) and b/c Veronica at Toddled Dredge said good things about it in her potty review.

***

For those of you who are following my Hashimotos Thyroiditis Escapades from me revealing my problems to the lab work and how my vagina fell off, and then on to finally hearing back on my tests… the latest news is that:

1) I still haven’t paid my lab bill of $387.  Better pay it.  We’re about to incur even MORE expenses…

2) I FINALLY heard back on an appointment with the Endocrinologist (after waiting for only a week and a half – yay for prompt medical attention!) and I have an appointment scheduled for January 28th.

I would like to mention that neither my doctor, nor any of the nurses, have decided to give a shit that I walked into that office and told them that I have been feeling very depressed lately.  I was told that I would not be receiving an anti-depressant to help with that since the underlying medical problem could be the cause.  Of course, they didn’t refer me to a therapist or counselor of any kind either.  Just have to wait over a month to even have an appointment to get that checked is all… sure hope you don’t kill yourself or anything in the meanwhile… Is that responsible patient care? Just wondering.

***

While responding in e-mail to comments left on the Screamie McGee post on Monday, I found myself sharing a gem with a couple of folks (MP and Bill), and I decided I’d pass it on to all of you, because it made me chuckle.  So, it follows:

[As per Braden's screaming lately:]

John and I have decided that we are partly to blame.  Braden sees us yell when we get mad.

Me to dog: “NO! NO! BAD DOG! GO GET IN YOUR BED! LIE DOWN! STAY!

John to TV: “NO, NO NO… YOU IDIOTS! BLITZ! OOOOHHHH, THAT WAS A HORRIBLE CALL! I HOPE YOU DIE!”

Me to John: “STOP YELLING AT THE TV, DAMNIT!”

Both of us to Braden: “STOP SCREAMING, THAT’S SO ANNOYING!!!!!!!!!”

It’s like, uh, spanking your kids for hitting? Heh.

So, part of our battle plan [to rid us of The Shriek] is a kinder and gentler John & Lotus.  No more yelling to solve our problems.

Damnit @ kids making us be better people!

***

Are you clicking all the links?  Don’t make me record your ISP and find out where you live, only to hunt you down and obsessively watch you through the window of your home, while clenching a hunting knife between my teeth.

Cause, I will SO totally use it to cut through your cable line.  So there.

Now, go vote for me in some of those categories on the right sidebar.  Not because I’m threatening you or anything, but because you honestly think I’m funny, like my parenting tidbits, dig my photography, and find me to be a hot mommy.  Even though I have a muffin-top and backfat.