Saturday, September 18, 2004

Payback is gonna be a bitch

I've had the Jetson's theme song stuck in my head now for about 3 hours. I don't know how it got here, but the damn song is here none the less. I'm trying to kill time before I take my lovely to a birthday party. Hmph, 6 months old and already a social butterfly. My heart swells with pride.

I am always hesitant about taking her anywhere. I hate to disrupt her schedule. Usually, when we're out she's a perfect angel, but I am always in fear that she will decide that this day, this very moment when we are far from home, is the perfect time to have a spectacular meltdown. Then I will have to die of embarrassment.

It's not my fault. Everyone that meets her comments on how good and sweet she is. That brings on a lot of pressure and performance anxiety. Not in her, but me. It would be so much easier if she just cried all the time. Then the expectation bar would be a lot lower.

As you might be able to tell, I chickened out of getting medication for my "problems." About 2 hours before my appointment, I called and claimed transportation trouble. Why I can never just call and cancel without some big production number is beyond me. Everything has to have a reason.

I'm one of those people who can't say no without a "because..." Attached to it. It makes me look like a people pleaser. Ha. Most of the time, it's the drama queen in me coming out. I love to talk and I love to tell tall tales. When I was younger, I would lie just to see if I could get away with it. Made me really popular at parties in high school. Kids would come to me for the great excuses to give their parents as to why they were late getting home. Being a total party girl and rebel myself gave me lots of practice perfecting my skills on my own hapless parents. They were easy bait though. My mom actually believed me when I told her the cigarettes she found in my pocket were "a friends." Sheesh.

My mother laughs now at all the crap I pulled on her. Well, most of it. And only most of what she actually knows. Anyway, she laughs now because she knows that my kids will be the same and they will torture me just as bad, if not worse, as I tortured her. I'm so in for it.

2 comments:

Toni said...

Isn't it always like that? They say we're usually opposite of our parents...so I'm going to be super relaxed - my mom was STRICT (but somehow believed my sister when she said the same thing about the cigarette :) ).

I didn't know you were going to get medication - I looked back at some of your posts to see if I missed it...but I couldn't find it. Are you okay???

MommyShel2Qnx said...

Hi Christina!
If you think meds might help, give them a shot...Hell, like I said before, I've been on prozac for 10 years, and anyone who disagrees with my decision can just bite my butt! :D Either way! I luv ya anyhow!.
I have a couple of pics to post for you...or rather Lexie (hee hee), but I'm trying to get an even better one before I do.

-Shelley