Tag Archive | stress

We’re Going West, My Friends

Family trips can be a huge source of stress for me. The planning, packing for 7 people, securing hotels, car, transportation and everything else that goes with it is just exhausting. Not to mention that the change in sleep cycles and routines can really do a number on my mental health.

All that being said, guess what I’m in the midst of doing. Planning a vacation. I’ve actually reached the point where I’m beginning to pack. I have a mere 4 days until we depart. Even though I’ve been planning this for months, I feel like I’m drowning in to-do lists.

Part of this is self imposed. I want the house spotless before we leave. There’s nothing worse than coming home to a messy house after vacation. So I’ve got everyone on cleaning detail. This is creating more headaches than its helping at the moment though. The kids are rebelling. They’ve put together a list of demands that they insist must be met before they will continue in their work. I don’t negotiate with terrorists, no matter how cute they may be, so it seems we’re at a standoff.

I wanted to buy small travel pillows. We’re taking the train there and flying back, so I need something small we can cram into a bag on the way home. After looking at my options, I decided it would be cheaper to make my own. It was cheaper to buy the materials. Now, being that I have no time to make these things, I just need to find a bunch of little mice to sew them up for me. I wonder if Cinderella’s little friends would be up for it…

I also got the great idea to make these felt Mr. Potato Heads to keep the kids busy on the 2 day train ride. They’re so cute and compact, and even a couple the older girls wanted to have one. I started those two weeks ago. Guess who’s still not done. Oh well. At least I only need to cut out the accessories.

I have 3 1/2 people packed, clothes-wise. That’s half way done! Woo hoo! It also means I have 3 1/2 more people to pack. Okay, fine, it’s more like after the half is done I only need to pack for myself. Knowing the eldest and the boyfriend, I’ll have to double check bags though.

The eldest will pack too much, as teenage girls often do. She recently went on a week long trip and took two bags for herself. I’ve been packing everyone else’s clothes two people to one duffle bag. I don’t mess around when it comes to packing.

The boyfriend will do the opposite. He tried to argue that one pair of shorts would be enough for a 10 day trip. Yeah… um no. I’m sure he’ll forget something important too, like his underwear. I’m not sure I ever met a man who was good at packing.

Despite all this chaos (or maybe because of it) I’m really looking forward to this vacation. We’ll be spending time with the boyfriend’s friends and family, we’ll see some beautiful scenery, including waterfalls, which I’m psyched about. I know that it will be a great time. It’s just the preparing stage that makes me bonkers. Then it should be all good… until it’s time to come home and unpack it all, that is.

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The Girl Who Never Cleaned

It seems my posts are getting further and further apart. I guess I need to start making writing a priority again, but with so much going on, it’s honestly hard to find time to breathe these days.

The eldest is still not walking right. She’s in a wheelchair anytime she’s not at home. Her strength is slowly coming back. I wish I could say the same for mine. Bi-weekly physical therapy, weekly neurologist appointments, and various other appointments fill my time now. When I’m not running, I’m trying to keep up with school, my business, and the house. Needless to say, the house is suffering. There’s a story behind why this last one bothers me so. If you sit a spell, I’ll share the tale with you.

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That was mighty old-fashioned of me, so here’s an old fashioned photo to go with it.

Once upon a time, there was a girl who got married at a young age. This girl had many responsibilities growing up and felt that she had been treated unfairly. This caused her to shirk her adult responsibilities and her house became a huge mess. Her spouse wasn’t much help, often adding more to the mess than he ever helped with, and then blaming her for the state of the home. After all, she was home with two kids under 4 (one of whom was a newborn) all day. Surely she had tons of time and motivation to get things done while he was gone.

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This bodes well for getting housework done, let me tell you.

Over the next year, her house displayed varying levels of cleanliness, but mostly, it looked like an episode of Hoarders gone wrong. Okay, maybe not quite that  bad, but it was sure close. After child number three came along, she fell into a deep depression. As you can imagine, the emotional state was reflected in the appearance in her home. Some days she could barely find the motivation to brush her hair, let alone do the dishes.

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Something tells me this woman was having one of those days. That, or she couldn’t locate a mirror.

Through the years, more and more messes were made and it seemed to the girl that the more she cleaned, the messier it got. No matter how much she plead with those who shared her home, she could not get help doing even the simplest of chores. The girl gave up. Her house was forever a pigsty after that.

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I can safely say my house never got this bad. Thank goodness!

The End

Only it wasn’t. That douche of a spouse left. At first, the house wasn’t any cleaner because the girl felt like a failure. She had made promises and now they had been broken. Not by her, but by him. She felt she had failed her kids and her whole family. She felt she failed herself.

Little by little, her eyes opened. She realized that she hadn’t been in a healthy place for a long time and part of that was because of him. Now that he was gone, she could find herself again, because she didn’t even know who she was anymore. She became happier and as she did, her house got cleaner and cleaner. She realized that having a clean house made her feel better too.

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I wish my house looked like this. It’s simply not this pretty though.

Fast forward to now. The girl is happy-ish. Things are tough, sure, but they seem to be getting better. She has so much to do, that the house is beginning to slip again. The girl thinks back to the way it used to be. The way her house used to look. She looks around, unhappy with where things are. She knows it’s not bad yet, but worries that it could get there. She gets so much more help now, so that’s huge, but she still feels like she should be doing more to help. She feels this way, but instead of cleaning, she writes, because right now, it’s all she knows how to do to keep sane.