Family

The Good and the Bad

This is going to be bad news for someone… or many someones…

badnews

And the good? I’m going to meet my father in November!! We’re both pretty excited, as is Mike. He’ll be there too. It will take place in Galveston, since he’ll be there already and who doesn’t like a road trip?

No, no more panic attacks. 😉

Family, Personal

Panic Attack

smtoiletI had one yesterday. My first. It was horrible and surreal.

This is what precipitated it:

I wrote about my newly acquired brothers and sisters, right? Really wonderful people. I’ve spoken to them on the phone and we’ve emailed facts and such back and forth. I’m lucky they contacted me and even luckier they want me in their lives.

So one of my younger brothers spoke to my biological father – his father – I’ve been bogged down in labels lately – about me. Such as… we not only know about her but we’ve spoken to her and what are you going to do about it?

I don’t know if he chose to blow me off a year ago from disinterest when I told him of our biological relationship or truly didn’t believe it… or… God knows… but he emailed me and wanted to know if I wanted a relationship with him.

After a year of resentment (that I truly did not know was lurking below the surface!) I flipped out. Here he was, asking. There I was, having a panic attack. I had to lie down with Badger (she’s very calming; I don’t know why) and of course fell asleep. When I awoke, it was over and I was able to write back.

He’s been great; telling me about his life and asking about mine… He signs them ‘your father’ or ‘dad’ and that gets me right in the feels. So the last time I wrote back I told him (because I use his name) that I wanted to call him Dad, but every time I think ‘Dad’ I of course think about my Dad. Adopted. See what I mean about labels?

I need some Sleepytime and Badger…

And yes, that really is me on the porcelain. 😉

Personal

Bed Head

We’ve been through an ordeal: mattress shopping.

I thought it would be a dandy idea to order a bed-in-a-box thing, so tré moderne! The only problem? Either it sucked or we’re too old to sleep on ‘a cloud’, a.k.a. Casper.  My back has never been so bad.

Then we slept on it the next night, just to make sure it sucked. I couldn’t even move yesterday, going from the inversion table to the very firm sofa over and over…

Ironically, we’ll have to jet over to Mattress Firm, which is in financial peril over the bed-in-a-box phenom. Oh, I get it; I’d much rather make this sort of transaction in a detached, sanitized way instead of touching mattresses that dog knows who have lain upon. I’m taking a sheet with me, screw anyone who thinks it too precious!

This is our 20 year old headboard, which I still love.. but I swear I’ll cut it up with a blowtorch should the top of my head ever touch it again.

bedhead

Bad shot, but I wasn’t going into the brush and spiders to take a better one.

Now, my original idea was to take a picture and post it for free on NextDoor… but Arthur opined that it would look good covered in ivy out back.

I think it would be sweet spray painted white(ish), suitable for a teen’s room… but since when do teenagers have king sized beds?

Sigh. I suck at the home decor thing. And now I must find a new mattress and headboard. Pray for me.

EDIT:

It’s the Simmons Beautyrest World Class Resonance Plush! Which felt wonderful in the store and hard as a brickbat last night. We’ll see. The salesman said it would take a few days to feel like it’s supposed to, but I wonder why… Anyway, new bed. I’m exhausted.

Forgot to add:

The guys who picked up the Casper (1-800-Buy-Junk) to supposedly recycle it? They were very forthcoming about how many beds, just in our area, they pick up: A hint? Between Casper, Purple and another he couldn’t remember the name of… they are very busy. LOTS. It must cost the Bed-in-a-Bag people about $100 a pop to manufacture those mattresses; they’re just foam. Then they sell them for $800 and up? Yep, they can afford to give a LOT of people their money back…

 

Personal

In Hiding

childSo, here’s a thing.

My biological siblings (paternal) found me. (I was adopted at birth, which isn’t a thing.)

After getting the cold shoulder from my maternal half-sister, this was good news. I was excited. They were excited. We exchanged some info and I’ve spoken to the oldest sister on the phone twice.  After that I wanted to fade into the wallpaper.

Don’t get me wrong, they’re very nice, open people who could have just ignored the DNA results. Instead, they said “Hey, we have a new sister!”

I’m sandwiched in between two brothers. One born barely a year before me, one a year after. Logically, I knew it had nothing to do with me, but I was so embarrassed and ashamed.  That bastard! I know he was in the Navy, but damn.

Add to that all the siblings are highly educated with great careers. Accomplished people. And I’m… well, I’ve done nothing, I’ve made nothing and I am nothing. That’s what keeps cycling through my head, over and over….

Just to add… Oldest sister asked what I do all day and I was stumped. I fritter. Laze. Loll. I am one of life’s lollopers.

So I would like to hide, yes and thank you very much to you. All in all, it’s been a gigantic mindbender.

Yes, I need a Miranda fix.

 

 

 

Family

New Sailor

tyam

And his sister. We watched the graduation live online, but couldn’t pick him out from the hundreds.

He looks a bit shell-shocked, doesn’t he? 😉

We’re very proud, obviously, and praying for only good things in his new career. ❤

Personal

So Far This Week

When I first started blogging the posts came frequently because, honestly, there was some over-sharing. But like all bloggers, I finally realized that nobody wants to hear about breakfast or see pictures of iguanas riding the dogs.

This is my week so far…

littlebitty

Monday

Last day of cleaning the house. Yes, it took all weekend and then some. New houses are remarkably easy to clean and keep that way, but old houses are never really clean. Trust me.

I also met a new cat out in the driveway; a young-ish orange tom. He was pretty scarred from fighting, one paw was hurt and yes, he was on the lean side. After a pleasant chat and pet I walked away. Then he haunted my dreams for two nights. It’s hard to walk away, but if I became involved with every animal that needs help… really, just keeping up with YsD’s needs is becoming ridiculous.

Tuesday

I splashed 8 different paint colors on the master bedroom walls. The man and I don’t agree on any of them. He thought Ultra Bright White appropriate for the closet, but drew the line at blowing out his retinas first thing in the morning – if he could even sleep in an  all-white environment. That’s vaguely racist, isn’t it? Well, maybe in today’s world.

Shaved Badger’s butt since she had the Big D for a few days and ohmygosh if I had to bathe that dog’s hind end one more time… It takes two full inches to get from the fringe to the hole, if you’re wondering. I knew you weren’t.

Wednesday

As WWIII approached I drew my battle plan; early dinner, thorough walks and televisions on loud. It wasn’t too bad, but c’mon… when it sounds like mortar fire is coming from mere feet away and your house shakes from the blasts… not too much helps. I sincerely hope there are no combat vets with PTSD issues living close to the ‘festivities’.

Thursday

Though the walls demand the *right paint, the need to run to Home Depot is negated by 100° temps. The plan is to remain cloistered, all drapes/blinds drawn like we’re hiding from the Feds. The only obstruction to peace has been the Amazon deliveries. No, I cannot go to WalMart like normal people. Meds would probably help with my overreaching introversion, but I don’t like going to doctors. Ha!

Worked out for the first time in weeks, though. When painting, i.e. ‘really working’, I tend to let the regular stuff slide. As long as the body moves around enough, it’s alright. That’s just a guess, though.

Wonder what tomorrow will bring?

*After a dozen not right paints, I’m willing to roll those walls with just about anything…

Personal

Whiteout

whiteout

I painted the master closet (yes, this is how small the master closet is; can you imagine the matchbox that is the guest closet?) Ultra Pure White and this is pretty much how it seems when I go in there.

Took me all weekend, which is more a nod to my age than anything else. It was only a prelude, though, because I plan on painting the whole house.

Should be done by this time next year. Ha.