Author: authenticallyliat

Going to Sleep: The Battle Between Hot and Cold

So, it’s late.  You’re tired after a long day.  You can’t wait to get in bed, get comfortable and go to sleep.  You lay down and you can feel all of the pain from the day slowly seeping out of your body.  It starts in your back and then goes down to your feet. You think, “finally, this is it!”. You pull the covers up and you snuggle in.  It’s feeling great and you start to drift off to sleep. But then, something happens. Things start to change. Out of nowhere you start to get hot as hell.  What just happened?  It’s like you just got smacked in the face with a heat wave that only was after you. Because your partner is sound a sleep under the covers.  So, you do what you need to do…you gently push the covers off of you and are careful not to wake your partner. You feel good, your body cools off…you’re finally comfortable and you start to drift off again. But then it happens.  You’re freezing. What in the world?  I went from hot and sweating to now being cold and freezing. You quickly pull the covers back on you. No lie, 2 minutes later you start to get hot again. Right, you with me? I know I’m not the only one that goes through this…at least I hope not.  So, you end up going back and forth between feeling like your on the equator and then in Greenland (I would say Iceland…but I think Iceland is all green and Greenland is all ice…see how much sense we make!). What’s this all about?  You begin to get a little more dramatic with throwing the covers off and pulling them back on.  Maybe some sighing, some tossing and turning with some extra force. At this point you don’t care about waking your partner or not (side note…all the extra drama doesn’t work without the loud noise when laying on a memory foam bed). You’re going through extreme climate changes while your partner is sound asleep. (You know you’re evil…they must suffer too…that’s what you’re really thinking…I know you going to try to deny it but we all know when you’re miserable you want others to know!).  So, we all end up in the same place by the end of this battle. The covers are up and over you…and one leg fights it’s way out…peace at last!

So, I have these kids.  They just happen to be mine.  And when one of them was younger…I don’t know exactly how old he was…I am doing good to remember what happened!  Let’s say very early elementary years for the sake of moving on with the story. Actually, I don’t even remember what really happened…so let’s get to the point.  I was in my room and he came in whining about something…and I was already exhausted and at my limit. It wasn’t the first time telling him whatever I had told him.  But what I do remember is clearly visualizing myself beating the shit out of him. I could see myself getting up, grabbing a hold of him, and lighting his ass on fire.  Now…let me fill you in…I have never whooped him in his life…I may have slapped his hand or bottom…but what I envisioned and what I have done are totally different. Now, as a social worker…I’m conflicted as I  shouldn’t be saying any of this but it is the truth.  Even when this happened I was a social worker, but at that moment…I was a parent who was at the end of whatever last nerve was left and it didn’t look good for the future of my son or myself. Now, in the end I told him in the firmest most controlled voice I could muster to go back to his room and I went to sleep.  But, I had a strange epiphany that night. I could see why some parents beat the shit out of their kids (and when I say that, I mean go off and whoop them like there is no tomorrow)…damn it….I envisioned it happening. So…if you start to envision how you will tear your kids ass up…put yourself in time out and go to sleep!

Disclaimer: I have referenced “beating the shit out of their kid”.  This is referring to spanking a child on their rear end.  This does not include using other objects or physically abusing a child.  If you are concerned about physical abuse of a child, please contact your local child protective services department to report your concerns.

I had provided my son with the local children services number which he had programmed in his phone as a middle schooler.  Hey, thought he should know his resources! I bet you as a high schooler, he’s still holding on to that number!

The Attempted Murder

Enough time has passed since this incident that I now feel strong enough to share!

I text my son on Labor Day that wasps attempted to murder me!! 

Now here’s the thing. Last year I was stung by an unidentifiable creature in the bushes as I was pulling weeds. Sharp pain equaled “oh shit” my arm had been bitten off. Well, as you know, that wasn’t the case. My hand and arm were still in tact when I pulled it out. I saw a brown bug thingy fly away. I don’t know if that’s what got me… I don’t even know what it was… but I had feelings of anger and hatred towards it. Then came my next thoughts. The last time I got stung was in 6th grade. I swelled up like crazy and I remember being told that I was allergic and I would want to be careful if I got stung again.

So of course when I got stung, I wasn’t dealing with just the pain of being stung. I was scared shitless that I didn’t know how bad my reaction was going to be. In the end, my husband took me to the emergency room with my arms crossed and bottom lip stuck out telling the triage nurse that my husband made me come, through the coughing and a slight wheeze with this weird drunken feeling. Unfortunately, the nurse sided with my husband. Well, I was home with no signs of a sting after a steroid shot and a breathing treatment!  Got a epi-pen. Got tested– barely an allergy.

This time, I got stung and I had no fear I was going to die. I truly stayed in the moment. I screamed, I cried, I apparently even threw my keys and phones.  That is how you truly stay in the moment.  I felt all the pain on the side of my head and walked in circles crying.  My husband came outside to console me.  I buried my body in his arms and realized I kept getting sharp pains in my forearm.  I pulled back, looked at my arm and then back at his shirt….would you believe there was a wasp on his shirt that had the nerve to prick my arm twice.  Really, a sting to the ear wasn’t enough…they had to ban together and finish me off.  

Next thing we saw was my son sprinting down the street with my phones and keys in his hand.  I didn’t know where he was going but I knew that he had my stuff!!  Finally my husband yelled for him to find out what was wrong.  He turned around and walked back saying a wasp was following him…little did he know that the wasp that was following him caught a ride in his hair.  I was scared to tell him, so I slowly and calmly said to my husband that the wasp was in his hair.  My son slowly collapsed down to the ground and placed his hands around his ears and the wasp took flight.

By the end of the day, my husband engaged in a full fledge warfare with a wasp nest and I was high off of Benadryl.  Moral of the story…living in the moment can suck and destroy the nests sooner than later!

So many conversations, debates and arguments. Too little people listening. I fear we hide behind social media as an attempt to stay anonymous. Some fear social media due to these free fall attacks. You’ll look at my picture and see what you decide to see. I’ll be classified differently by each classifier. Why is that? Because of the color of my skin, my subtle facial features or the texture of my hair. What you do not know, is that no matter how hard you fit me into your box, I will not, for..I’ve created my own.

I have learned that the color of my skin comes with privilege. The privilege to talk and more likely to be heard. So, this is what I have come to say…

We all have our truths… because they are ours. You can’t deny them. You can’t take them away or say they don’t exist. What we can say is that we wear different lenses. We see the world differently… based on our experiences, based on how others see us and classify us.

I learned at a young age that we are in tune to our name. People can talk and never once do you catch a word. But as soon as someone says your name you hear it. You immediately stop what you’re doing and you look. Before then, it was static in the background. This phenomena happens all of the time. If someone is talking about you or calls you out, you’re in tune to it…it has become personal.

Well, I believe the same process happens when people are “talked” about based on their religion, ethnicity, sex, sexual orientation, gender identity, race and so many more.  What happens is, if it doesn’t apply it’s easier to keep it static. So in others reality…the discrimination doesn’t exist. I can’t deny that…that’s your reality, your everyday, your privilege. But when you stand out from the majority and you hear the talking, when the actions are against you, it is no longer static in the background…it’s reality for people everyday.

The discrimination, racism, sexism, and all the other “isms” happen everyday, at every corner, and just because you can’t see it or hear it… doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist…it’s your static.

Why is the grass always greener on the other side…in our head? You know this idea that we are never fully content with what we have. Or, in my case…with my hair, skin, arms, knees, and anything else that I can think of.  At least this used to be the case. Now… it happens to only be the case every once in awhile. Like for real, I would still like to trade in my stomach for a upgraded model that does not have the same temperament…like….is a little patience too much to ask for when your stranded somewhere with no restroom in sight? Geesh.  Anyways…back to grass. We all have grass. Grass of different shades, lengths, textures…but in the end, it’s all grass. It grows, it gets cut, it can dry out when not taken care of. When you go from one lawn to the other….they each have their perks, their pros, their awesomeness, but they each also have their cons, their hidden crabgrass lurking on the side and those damn weeds that when out of control can take over.  So when we stop in realize that we all have strengths and we all have weaknesses, maybe we can begin to appreciate our yard for what it is!