Friday, April 26, 2013

Your Desire To Be Right May Make You Wrong

I've been sitting on this blog post for over a month now, trying to figure out the proper way to express to you exactly what I mean by the title. I've come to the conclusion during this month of pondering that I will express to you in the best way I know how what I mean and hope it comes out properly.  I apologize in advance if it doesn't but I really am doing my best. 

This post started with a friendly debate between my fiance and I about proper attire for a wedding reception when it hasn't been clearly stated what should be worn. 

It got me thinking, after our debate got a bit heated (we eventually both backed down and agreed to disagree) that sometimes the want or need to be right can be so overpowering that it will make you wrong in the end. 

Not necessarily wrong about the facts but wrong about the way you've achieved proving your point.  If at the end of your debate, when you're feeling on top of the world because you've proven someone wrong who was adamant about themselves being right, your rational brain takes over and makes you realize that you have, in fact, hurt the feelings of that person, crushed their spirit a bit or even caused their self esteem to drop down drastically then you are in fact in the wrong. 

That is what I mean by the title of this post.  Your burning desire to be right and to shove it in the face of the person who is arguing with you and walk around with your ego inflated and feeling like the champion may in fact hurt the person you have just proven wrong.  And if that is often the case for you, then you need to learn when to tone it down or simply agree to disagree and let it go because hurting someone who's relationship with them you value isn't worth being right. 

I find myself doing this exact thing very often with my fiance since he has always had that burning desire to be right and rub it in your face.  So instead of giving him the satisfaction of victory or making it into a huge argument (remember to learn to pick to your battles!) I simply back down and tell him that I am going to agree to disagree with him and that's the end of it. 

Remember this folks, it's an important lesson in humanity and humility.  Yes, being right is a wonderful feeling and proving someone wrong who is adamant about their opinion or point of view to be right can be a great ego booster, you really don't want to hurt them, hurt your relationship with them or end up losing that person's respect for you. 

In the end, the real question you have to ask is this; Is my desire to be right so much more important than the good thing I have going on with this person? 

If you can't answer an honest "no" to this question, then perhaps you need to sit back and really think things through before you open your mouth and spout something off that can, in the end, hurt more than a knife or bullet wound ever would. 

Just some food for thought folks. 

Tuesday, April 23, 2013

The Woes

I have woes.  I know you probably do as well.  If you don't, you are one lucky individual.

Woes can be from or about anything, really.  Be it relationship woes, financial woes, emotional woes, etc., they all bother us.  They're always there, constantly in the backs of our minds, poking and prodding at our conscience from time to time or more frequently than that even. 

Whatever it may be, they can interfere with our daily lives. 

Trust me, I know this from experience.  I have sat many a night and pondered how to solve the issues/problems that make up the base of my woes.  I've lost sleep over them.  I've snapped on family and friends because they irritate me so and I get so overwhelmed that it gets to me and affects my mood. 

My mental stability isn't all that great to begin with, being bipolar and all, even on medication it isn't that great but I do try to keep it from interfering with my personal relationships.  It's hard.  It's very very hard for me.  It's a constant battle and I do fail now and again and after I've exploded and my rational mind returns I feel horrible about what I've done and try to mend my fences, apologize for my outbursts and carry on. 

Most of my family and friends know these facts about me and will accept my apology and will move on with me.  I'll admit, however, that I have lost a few friends/acquaintances because of my mental health disorder and effects on my emotional stability.  And it hurts to know that some people who could have been decent friends can't be understanding enough to overlook my flaws and see the real me and appreciate who and what I am. 

All of that aside though, what do you do about your woes?  Do you try to fix them?  Solve the issues or problems that make them up?  Or do you let them eat away at you and dwell on them?  What if it's something you have no control over whatsoever?  Then what do you do? 

I dwell on those.  I hate them, those woes, the ones you can't control, the ones you can't escape or do anything about.  The ones that you just have to sit and wait and be patient for them to work themselves out.  I hate when things like that end up taking over my mind and hurting me emotionally, mentally. 

I need to learn to let things go.  I need to learn to loosen the reigns of my life a bit and watch how things turn out and stop worrying over the things I have no control over and there's nothing I can do about them. 

That's a feat in and of itself, for me anyway.  I really have a hard time letting go, loosing control, letting my problems take a backseat in life and just move on, living and letting be. 

Ah well, once again, it's one of those little things.   It's a little thing I really need to work on and let be. 

Wednesday, April 10, 2013


My godson, cute little bugger whom I helped raise from birth, is turning 9 years old this year.  Makes me feel ancient and old.  Especially since my own daughter is turning 1 year old in less than three months.  Wow, does time fly. 

The name of this post is a word that my godson created while trying to explain to me how he couldn't tell me about his dreams because he had no "remembery" of them.  I laughed a bit when he said that and poked a bit of fun but he looked at me seriously and said, "It's not funny Auntie Katy.  I should be able to "remembery" these things". 

He was honestly concerned about not being able to remember his dreams like his friends could.  I quickly came up with a positive way, well, I think it's a positive way, to calm him down and quash his fears.  I told him that it doesn't matter if he can't remember all of his dreams.  What matters is the ones he does remember because those are the important ones. 

He thought for a moment and apparently concluded that this was an acceptable explanation and went about his business without another thought. 

It got me thinking though, how well do I remember things?  And I don't mean just the important things like doctor's appointments, medication refills, returning phone calls and keeping schedules.  I mean the little things.  Like my dreams, my daughter's first actual word, little things like that, I often don't remember them unless I'm really seriously thinking about them. 

Makes you wonder a bit doesn't it?  Why is it that we sometimes have to work so very hard to remember some things when other things come to you so quickly, like your parent's phone number or your birth date, your shoe size or the type of oil your car needs? 

Those things come to me quite quickly but trying to remember the feeling of warm grass between my toes, the smell of fresh sea air, my first fishing trip or my first time, and last time, hunting with my father is so much more difficult for me to remember that I often find myself sitting there, picturing it in my head for a few moments, taking in all the details, sights, smells, sounds, sensations, all of it before I bring it up in conversation so that I can be sure to get it all straight before speaking about it. 

And then, you can be out with friends and have a snappy or witty comeback or retort to something cocky they've let off in less than a heartbeat. 

It's all quite intriguing really, something that interests me quite a bit, to a degree that I've done some research through Google on this matter and have found some interesting results.  I won't go into dull boring detail as I know some of you probably don't give a rats patooty what I or the experts have to say about it all but if it does peak your interests be sure to go and have a look see. 

Just remember, (see what I did there), it's all a matter of perspective, some of the things you want to remember aren't always exact and some of the things you don't want to remember will be clear as day.  It's all a part of how the ever surprising and alluring human mind works. 

Tuesday, April 9, 2013

When It Rains It Most Certainly Pours

Normally, I would have posted a few times by now but I've just been feeling like such crap lately that I haven't really wanted to do anything, not even bake or cook, which totally means something because I love to bake and cook. 

Anyway, in the past four days my home has gone from everyone being happy go-lucky and doing things on their own unless it's dinner time when we all usually congregate together to fuck off and leave me alone but don't go far because I need you every five minutes. 

This sudden mood change occurred as soon as the stomach flu that found it's way into our home not only overtook my 10 month old daughter and fiance but also my mother and sister.  Thankfully, I have yet to succumb to this foul virus and I never want to, especially whilst pregnant. 

So I spent my Friday night out with friends celebrating a bachelorette party which I had to cut short so that I could come home to help my fiance and my mother with my puking daughter.  We acquainted her puking up everything she ate to her having far too many fresh vegetables for dinner, courtesy of her daddy. 

The puking passed in just the one night and by morning she was no longer vomiting but seemed a little lethargic and not quite herself.  She also had a messy diaper, that, well, let's just say I refused to ever try and did not even attempt to clean the onesie she had been wearing.  Just...ew. 

Two messy diapers later, in similar format to the first and not wanting much of anything to eat but her formula I put her down for sleep last night.  When she hadn't woken at all during the night for a bottle or made much noise at all, I was a bit concerned but since we had gone out and about I figured she was just tired and checked on her regularly just to be sure she was still okay.  However, when I woke at noon and she STILL wasn't up, I was more than worried.  I was scared. 

She was very, very lethargic, almost not wanting to move.  She wanted nothing more to eat but 2/3 of one formula bottle and was very clingy and cuddly with me.  That right there let me know that something more was wrong with her than just not feeling well.  She was sick, very sick.  I sent her down to Oma, my mother, as I ran to the grocery store to get her some Gatorade and crackers and that's when I found out just how bad this virus had hit my home. 

In the course of one evening, my sister had passed out twice just trying to get to the bathroom, my mother had fallen three times doing the exact same thing and they were both in and out of the bathroom numerous times.  Vomiting was also included but they were of enough sound mind and body to get it in the trash can at least.  Thank the gods. 

So not only did I have to worry about my poor baby girl I had to worry about my mother and sister as well.  Neither of them have left their respective beds yet for the day and I doubt they will today anyway.  I bought more than enough Gatorade and crackers, apple sauce, bananas and chicken noodle soup for the entire house as my poor fiance was also afflicted with this nasty bug.  He felt like crap all day Saturday and most of Sunday and still isn't feeling quite up to par but at least he can keep his food down now. 

So here I sit, at 5 am on Tuesday morning, after checking on my mother and sister one last time, putting my baby girl back down for sleep since she woke up 2 hours ago hungry and I just didn't have the heart to deny her some crackers and formula considering she hadn't eaten anything all day and wasn't feeling well, updating my blog and watching some old Looney Tunes cartoons on cable TV with my fiance, hoping and praying my daughter will go back to sleep soon so I can finally go down for the night as well. 

It's been a rough couple of days, the sickness with my daughter first, then it hit her daddy and finally moved on to my mother and sister and I'm praying to the gods that I don't get this nasty virus.  I don't want to get it and I don't need to get it and I don't have the same immune system everyone else does because I'm currently 8 months pregnant and yea, let's consider that one for a second. Does an 8 month pregnant mommy really have any kind of proper chance of beating such a vile virus and surviving without having to hit the hospital once or twice for fluids so she doesn't get dehydrated?

I think not and I don't want to go there.  So let's wrap this up with saying that no matter how many disinfectant wipes you use, Lysol you spray or how many times you wash your hands throughout the day, you still stand NO chance against a virus such as this and when it does get to one person in your home you can bet your last dollar that EVERYONE in your home is going to get it sooner or later.  There's just no chance to win in some instances.