We are in the new place now and things are going great. Despite still living around boxes, everyone has adjusted fabulously.
During our first move day, a few neighbors came over to introduce themselves, and I had an inkling of panic that i’d screw up the whole first impression thing
-apparently there’s only one first impression to screw up –
My husband was with me, and for whatever lame reason, i have less verbal diarrhea when he’s with me. I did manage to stick my foot in my mouth once, but in general it was poo-free. Today, however, was my first solo flight with one of the neighbor ladies. I spent the drive to the store after our conversation shaking my head and imagining kicking myself in the ass.
I think its a clinical problem at this point.
I have realized there is actually a point in the conversation when the other person has realized they are embarrassed for you. This woman has had this look twice now. Once during the neighbor introductions when she was kind enough to give us an advent calendar for the kids, and i was so flustered i said something to the effect of, “thank you, that is so nice! they will be so excited since i refused to add to our amount of ‘stuff’.” To which she apologized for complicating our move.
I tried to repair the damage, but I usually just end up making it worse.
So today she offered us some dog treats and invited us to a last minute Christmas party they are having. I have no idea what i was blathering on about, but I saw ‘the look’ and just tried to seal the pie hole before it got worse. Its like some latent social awkwardness. As i age, it gets worse. The good news is that she continues to come around so either she’s incredibly tolerant of awkward anti-socialites, or she is beginning to appreciate watching me squirm, im glad I have a chance to redeem myself. Lets hope the increased amount of people around us and the presence of my husband and kids dampens my need to blurt and say any random facts or tidbits that pop into my head.
In general it seems i’ve reached the limits of my tolerance for stress. I have felt pressure to create some sort of holiday cheer in the house so my kids arent shocked and terrified when the jolly fat man in the red suit pops by to drop gifts down the chimney. We got the tree up a few days ago, and today i plugged in 2 of our inflatable lawn dudes. I had to move a mountain of boxes off the porch first, but i did it. I also made beef stew in the crock pot and brownies! My husband nearly keeled over when he walked in the house today. My response was to bite his head off when he suggested I let our son have a brownie on the way to OT tonight.
All of the things i still need to do tackled a natural response of, “I’d love to, but they havent finished cooling off yet.” and instead allowed my impulsive nonsensical emotions bulldoze him after trying to cut a not-yet-cooled brownie and it turned to mush. My reaction was to laser-beam him with my angry irrational wife eyes and comment on how I was stupid to attempt it.
One of my other personalities followed that up with, “what’s up? whats wrong?!” to my wise husband who apparently is so practiced he just feigned “nothing…i’m fine”.
I reflected on the long drive to occupational therapy that it seems my tolerance and limits have been reached. All the things i was hoping to have done and complete by now. The move in, the christmas shopping, the house prep, the move out of the last place, our spa has stopped being useful, i have nothing prepared for my son’s teachers or support staff, how many people do i have to give something to, can i make the brownies in time and will it be ‘enough’.
My brain is now acting out on my behalf. If you know me and/or are in my vicinity, i apologize for whatever i may say or do to piss you off or offend you.
Oh yea, and Merry Christmas!
ps. i have been repeatedly appreciative the last week that i never began the Elf on the Shelf nonsense. That f*cker would have sent me over the edge weeks ago!