Saturday musings February 16, 2008

So I was thinking yesterday about why, exactly, it is that I don’t seem to have anybody I can just call up and shoot the breeze with. I don’t have any girlfriends to hang out with, nobody that I go to coffee with, or take walks with, or anything that I see all the other women of my age doing on a daily basis. There seems to be some kind of friend culture that I have been shut out of and I couldn’t figure out why, exactly.

I mean, it’s not because I’m not friendly, I’m not psycho. I’m a great listener; in fact, when people have a crisis I usually get to hear all about it. I’m encouraging, open, warm, all the things you would want in a friend. And yet, I don’t have anyone. Not one person.

I thought that I used to have a friend, until I finally figured out that she was just using me to complain about her husband. Did I waste so much energy on her that now I’m no good for anyone else?

I have to confess: I watch shows like “The L Word” and I’m horrifyingly jealous of the easy way they weave in and out of each other’s lives. I wish I had that. The only person I talk to on a regular basis is my husband, and while he’s a nice guy he is also so opposite of me in pretty much anything that it gets very tiresome, since he loves to debate and I do not (it’s an election year, and that’s all I’m going to say).

So what is it about me that says “don’t bother”? I’ve got a few theories. First, it’s because I’m about 100 pounds overweight. That’s the first time I’ve put that into writing. I am obese. Which leads me into my next theory - because of this fat, I am also tremendously introverted. People, quite frankly, scare the shit out of me. I go out of my way to avoid having to talk to people, which, when you read what I already wrote about having no friends, is kind of a “duh” moment, but there it is. Last theory: I’ve got a tremendously obnoxious husband and a kid with special needs that take up a LOT of my energy, and so by the time I’m done with working 60 hours a week and dealing with the two of them, the thought of having to muster up some sparkling conversation quite honestly exhausts me.

So what’s a lonely girl to do? I don’t know. I’m not feeling sorry for myself, although I do have times (like last night) where I do. I’ve become a very solitary person, mostly because of the reasons I’ve mentioned. I know that getting this weight off will free me of a lot of stuff I’ve been hanging on to, it’s just a matter of sticking with something. Food is my drug, it’s my friendship that I don’t have.

Well, one thing at a time, I guess. This post won’t win any awards for being well-written, but it certainly helps to get stuff down on virtual paper.

Children with special needs are difficult. January 27, 2008

So we have a child, Henry, who is 10 years old and has a genetic disorder called 22q deletion syndrome, which basically means he’s missing a vital part of his DNA. It also means that sometimes? HE IS A GIANT PAIN IN THE ASS.

Case in point: this morning, in obedience to his dr’s orders of getting at least 8K steps on his pedometer a day (he’s a little chunky), D tried to take him on a walk. I couldn’t go because Emma is sick and wants Mommy. So what did Henry do? Well, he threw the fit to end all fits, and all our neighbors probably are calling CPS like right this second.

See? That’s the unseen quirk of kids with special needs - sometimes, you just want to pinch their little heads. If he wasn’t such a godforsaken cutie pie, he would have SUCH a head pinching today.