"Don't call it a comeback
I been here for years
Rockin my peers and puttin suckas in fear
Makin the tears rain down like a MON-soon
Listen to the bass go BOOM
Over the competition, I'm towerin......"
A little dramatic with the LL Cool J Momma Said Knock You Out lyrics, ya think? Nah, there is no such thing as too dramatic, right? I figure the first blog since 661 days ago, or if you prefer 1 year,9 months, and 22 days. I will not bore you with a mid-western surburban Real Housewives of Ridiculousness type recap of what's been going on here . I figure we can start fresh and present and when something arises that needs a back story, I will fill you in.
Re-claiming. I read a brilliant article. http://modernloss.com/how-im-making-mothers-day-my-bitch/. It was on point with the painfully honest hardship that women go through on the Hallmark holiday with the absence of a mother. I know so many women that feel jealous, bitter, angry, put-off, put-out or just completely over the entire sentiment of it. Myself included. Until I read this. I asked my self, why are you being such a miserable cow? I know damn well why I'm being a miserable cow. I want to be mad at the day because I don't get the perks. I don't get to brunch like ladies with my mother and sister. There is no forced family function where my boys are dressed in what I want them to wear,where they have to eat an over priced 5 course meal with nana and not complain. Is that really that important?
Nope. I reclaim my Mother's Day and the whole damn weekend. I get to run a 5k with my family, my sister and nephew! We get out of my grocery getter heading to the starting line , Our walk up music is Uptown Funk & I'm happy. We get pelted with color and smiles. It's awesome! The boys spend the rest of the weekend being at my disposal. Housework and laundry is on them. Daily chores still maintained and no pity parties thrown on my part. I'm making this weekend count. I claim it for me. I get to eat too much, drink too much, yell at sports on tv and laugh until we cry. I get to do that with my friends and my family! I feel bad spending too many Mother's Day being that miserable cow! I have so much to relish in and be proud of! "Celebrate the person you’ve become not just in her absence, but because of it. Don’t just get through the day –- own it, for fuck’s sake. (Sorry, mom.)"
Re-purposing. The amazing articles just keep finding me. http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2015/05/07/in-praise-of-women-who-give-all-the-f--ks_n_7234890.html. If you are offended or put off by the F-word, this is not the article for you. In actuality, if you are offended by the F-word, the B-word, C U Next Tuesday and any or all words in that category, I am probably not for you! On we go. Not giving a fuck. I am so good at that. I like to not give a fuck about people, place, and things. I like to not give a fuck about the celeb-retard who popped out an 11 pound spawn and posts a nude selfie 22 minutes later ,with her flat stretch mark-less body! I'd like to not give a fuck about Lupus and the other chronic invisible illnesses that effect mine and my families life. I don't give a fuck if you don't like me. I'm not for everybody and that it really o.k. with me.
What I do want to give a fuck about is taking care of me. I want to give a fuck about making time to run, get stronger and love my body when it feels healthy enough to do so. I also will give a fuck about honoring Lupus and the other chronic illnesses that effect me. It is o.k. to stay in bed for a day(or four). To let myself heal and recover and not feel guilty about it. ( That's a lot of fucks to give. ) If I fail at giving a fuck with all of the other things there is one thing that I will stay true to. I will give as much as I can to my family. Not just the biological ones or the ones I claim as mine. But also the ones that I shut out, close off and keep at arms length. If we have shared a meal, had a drink, split a piece of gum or suffered in uncomfortable silence together, I will give a fuck about you. As long as you return the favor. "Give all the fucks you want. You'll be better for it."
Reality. I love reality, said no one ever. I really don't want to spend May 11th melancholic and lonely mourning my mother. I really don't want to dread every Mother's Day because the imminent looming of the anniversary of losing her is always there. I really do not want to replay the phone, the night, the day or even the years following. I really want people to understand chronic illness and the hell it plays on mental health. I really don't want to be the one to explain to anybody how or why my mother is no longer here. I really want to ask her, what the fuck, mom? Why? I really want to give up the guilt, the internal mental abuse I plague myself with. I really want a do-over.
Reality bites. I'm aware. I am also going to share what I realized this weekend. In reality, she has showed me, in her own,way all weekend that she knows. Whether I wanted to recognize it or not. Friday while having HopCat for lunch, I had an Angry Cow (ha) burger while Little Red Corvette played. Quickly followed up with Momma Said by Lenny Kravitz. Nice one! Later when I was getting my mani/pedi a little girl sitting next to me noticed my Lupus pin. She told me about how her mommy had Lupus too. Her mom came and sat next to me. She showed me pictures of the edema in her legs that comes while she waits for her kidney transplant. She also is suffering from infertility issues too, since being diagnosed. Little much mom, but I get your point. Hanging with my mother shucking sister and laughing in sheer hysterics at Lip Sync battle. Even with the Les Mis reference, it was much needed. Yesterday, when I thought I had hit the proverbial wall. I was ready to lose my shit and go hide under my covers. I turned on the TV, to drown out noise, and Overboard was on. As if that was needed, come on!
I dragged my ass out of the bed and came down to the land of the living. I found the littles helping the hubs squeeze lemons for lemonade. The middle was still doing laundry. The oldest was photo shopping Drake into our family picture ( I really am getting what I deserve with that one). The hubs gave me the atta-girl hug I needed and put me to work. Meds have to be filled,lunches have to be made and Mother's Day to be celebrated. Amazing food, over flowing wine, the best company and a full heart. The reality is that losing my mom sucks. I suck at grief. I suck at other people's grief even more. But I do this really well. I just want to do it to the best of my ability. I want to know that i'm doing o.k. and as long as I keep it together, I will notice when you point it out to me.
Take care of you....