I Give Up!

Have you ever had one of those days where you just want to crawl up in your bed, throw the covers over your head, and cry like a baby??? One of those days where no matter what you do is right? One that, regardless of all the good work you do, you are blinded by your mistakes?

Today has been one of those days. Hell, this month has been one of those months! No matter what I do or say, it all gets twisted into something it is not. Maybe I am crude, but I am so sick of everyone's sensitivity! Honestly, why do some folks take themselves and everything in their lives so seriously??? I just cannot take it anymore!

If there was a way to just give up, I'd do it right now. If I could just drop out of society and live off the land, I'd be all over it. If I could quit life, lay on the couch while eating ice cream and watching Dr. Phil, I'd do it!

One thing is for certain. I am one of those people that you either get me or you don't. You either like me or you don't. There is no middle ground. I guess I'm like Howard Stern. Those who get him and where he's coming from, totally love him (like me). Those who don't, hate him and wish he'd be banished from society forever.

Whaaaa, whaaa, whaaa! I'm starting to sound like one who takes themselves too seriously! I'll stop here before I put my big, fat foot into my big, fat mouth again.

Just know, however, that I am usually a very happy person who enjoys life. I try never to take myself too seriously, and often find humor in my own misgivings. I like to joke, check, and joke some more with my the people I love. There is no malice in my intent. I am very loyal, and will do just about anything in the world (within reason, of course) for the people dear to me. While I am starting to learn that I cannot please everyone, it upsets me when I think that I've hurt someone. Believe me, it's NEVER, EVER intentional. I just talk too much, and that's always gotten me in trouble.

MILs from Hell

I truly hope that when my son decides to marry, I will not mysteriously transform into a MIL from Hell. Seriously, I know moms are typically close to their little boys. How can they not be??? Little boys are so awesome, and they love their moms like no one else can. I can only imagine how difficult it will be to let him go. And I am sure that I will be leary of every girl who comes into his life. However, I pray that God will give me the courage to stay out of his freakin' business, and let him live his life!

As most of you know, I have a MIL from Hell. I thought she was THE MIL from Hell. Apparently, though, she is not the one and only MIL from Hell. It seems that being from Hell is quite characteristic of your typical MIL. Strangely, the Heavenly MIL is an anomaly and somewhat of a precious commodity. (My friend has one of those freaks of nature. Her MIL is awesome beyond belief! It's no fun trying to commiserate with her.)

The phenomena known as the MIL from Hell is complex. There are varying degrees of hellishness. All this time I thought that Dante's Inferno was a fictitious saga about the depths of Hell. I suspect, though, that Dante' may have had a MIL from Hell from which he got his inspiration. The characters obviously represent the MIL's from Hell that Dante encountered.

Depending on the spouse's "crime," the suffering varies. In the first circle of hell, the strong-willed must take a MIL with no manners and obnoxious public behaviors. The ankle-biter MIL is punishment for the passive in the second circle. One of the worst MIL's from Hell, the malicious meddler, is saved for the irresponsible and carefree in the deepest circle. Get the idea?? My personal hell is in the first circle. Another friend's MIL is worse, though.

My friend, V, has an ankle-biter. You know the type. She's like one of those really small, yelpy dogs who constantly bark and bite at your ankles until you kick the hell out her. She has no llife but that of her child's. Seriously, she is all up in the Kool-Aid, sniffing around in their business like the IRS. The ankle-biter is at V's house every single day. Much like the dog, she hovers over the children just waiting to attack anyone or anything that touches the litter. Regardless of what poor V does, the ankle-biter is there to take over while appearing to be helpful. This is no exaggeration either.

I recently had the pleasure of interacting with the ankle-biter. I was at V's house and fed her 1 year old a cheese puff. You know, the ones that melt in your mouth? The ones that require no teeth or chewing?? Since the MIL from Hell was hovering as she does, she nearly had a stroke!! She zoned in on that cheese puff like it was an assault weapon. In a flash, the ankle-biter destroyed the cheese puff and snatched the baby out of harm's way. Phew...another disaster averted thanks to her superb instincts!

My MIL is, in fact, from Hell, but at least she stays out of my business. Of course, she does live over a hundred miles away. I suspect she'd probably be a bit nosier if she were closer. Regardless, I appreciate the fact that she leaves us alone.

I guess there is truth in the saying, "God only gives you what you can handle." With almost complete certainty, I'd be looking for a job out of state if I had V's MIL. I would only be able to fake a joyful expression when she enters the door for about a week before I blew my stack. I'm not exactly sure what I'd say or do, but right now I am getting a visual of Linda Blair in the Exorcist throwing objects around the room with my head doing a 360 as I spew venemous green stuff. Let's just say, we'd probably need the crime scene clean up crew afterwards.

I Kicked Some Teenage Butt Today! :)

For those of you who teachers, you know that coaches have a pretty damn good gig. Yes, the do teach and some of them are even good at it. However, they do get some pretty incredible perks. Most of the paperwork that the regular ed teachers have to deal with is of no particular concern to the coaching staff. In the words of a fellow teacher and male coach, "What report?? Oh, I'm not doing that!"

As a result, I pretty much forced myself on the volleyball coach. (Luckily, I consider her a good friend too.) I told her that I wanted to be a coach, and asked if I could be her assistant volleyball coach. Did I mention she is really nice friend??? Considering the fact that I know absolutely NOTHING about volleyball, I think she's just trying not to hurt my feelings.

Regardless for my first day as the new assistant volleyball coach, I joined the team at their weekly karate/kick-boxing class. I feel like I've been run over by a Mack truck, but I did it. In fact, I held up better than some of those little petite sixteen year olds! I can do more push ups and kicks and arm circles than a few of my very own students!!! Not bad for a 43 year old woman, huh??

With the exception of the standing jumps, I hung with the best of them. While they were crying, I was rocking. And if I didn't pee on myself every time I tried to jump, I would have probably rocked that as well. (Those little girls don't understand what age and childbirth does to a woman's body.)

Now I just have to pray that I'm able to get out of bed in the morning. I remember the first time I ever snow skied. We spent the entire day on the slopes, and I was so proud of persevering. The next morning, though, I literally fell out of bed. When I tried to stand up, I fell to the ground in pain. Needless to say, I hung out in the lodge for two days before hitting the slopes again.

Today's victory will probably be tomorrow's agony... I'm afraid this is going to be a long season.

Demonic Possession?? Or PMDD?

I am on the verge of SCREAM-ing my head off right now!

It all started yesterday. I woke up on the wrong side of the bed, and was certifiable by the time my husband got home from work. I actually got in bed at about 5 p.m. for a "sleep over" with my son hoping I could sleep it off. Of course, my son just thought it was fun to put on his pjs and veg-out in front of a good DVD while the sun was still out.

This morning I woke up hoping for a better mood. It didn't happen. Instead, I screamed and yelled at my kids all day long! I hate days like this! My poor babies weren't any worse than usual, but anything and everything sent me into a tirade. I feel like if I ripped my shirt open, a terrible beast would be release from my chest! Incredible Hulk style!

I have taken a ton of deep breaths only to feel like a ton of bricks is still on my chest. I'm sure it's anxiety that is causing my labored breathing, but what do I have to be anxious about? Yes, keeping my kids from killing one another or themselves is an enormous challenge and can make anyone feel stressed. However, no more so than any other day.

Is it possible that my body has been taken over by some demonic entity? Is an exorcism the answer? I've seen folks on the National Geographic Channel cured by exorcism so it must be effective against evil spirits. Of course, I'm not sure I even know how to contact a priest willing to perform such a ritual. All the ones I've seen on TV were done in Third World countries like Ecuador and Nicaragua. Somehow I just don't see my husband agreeing to a Nicaraguan vacation.

I do need something, though. I was diagnosed with PMS many years ago and have been taking Zoloft ever since. I'm feeling pretty certain that it isn't working. And every time I talk to my OBGYN about my "episodes," he dismisses it as being just a normal part of mothering two small children.

Okay, if 100 mg of Zoloft per day is not helping me keep my composure then there has to be something else going on. Agree??? I'd hate to think I am just a completely insane bitch that is able to hide the fact for 20 days each month. I don't feel CRAZY! But then again, most crazy people have no idea that they are actually crazy. I have an uncle who is more than just a few cans short of a 6-pack. In his eyes, though, the rest of the world is off it's rocker and out to get him.

After some extensive research via a very reputable medical source (i.e. the internet), I've decided that instead of PMS I have PMDD. According to the experts:

PMDD symptoms are not always present. Symptoms disappear during or by the
end of menses, and return at about the same time during following cycles. If
symptoms are present every day, then they are unlikely to be due to PMDD.
To be considered PMDD, symptoms must be severe enough to really disrupt a
woman's life -- interfere with work, school, social activities or interpersonal
relationships.

I don't know what the rest of you think, but screaming at my kids all day long probably meets the criteria for a "severe disruption" in my life. Any other day, I make every attempt to find an alternate means of addressing bad behavior. Sometimes I yell, but I'm usually able to control it enough to correct it. On those days prior to my period, I am a different beast altogether.

I've decided that I will track my symptoms over the next few months. If I provide concrete evidence that my symptoms are quite severe, MAYBE, just maybe, my doctor will take me seriously! I may even take my plea to my general practitioner who happens to be a woman. Surely, she won't try to minimize my concerns.

In the meantime, I'll have to isolate myself from the rest of the world a few days each month. Since real isolation is impossible with two kids hanging on my legs, the gym is probably as close as I'll get. I'll just have to create my own peaceful setting with an elliptical machine and my iPod.