Mama Meltdown!
Last night, I made it through a rough bridge walk/run, and when I got home, my mom took Ayes with her so B & I could go out and have (too much) Mexican food and a margarita for Cinco. When we were done eating, I had Brandon drop me off so I could catch the back to back weddings on Grey's & Private Practice (which I only ended up catching bits and pieces of).
Well, I let Oscar out of his cage and fed him and Boo girl. Boo came back to the bedroom with me, and Osk was running in and out of the room, which was annoying me.
Later on, I went out to the living room for something, which totally escapes me now. What did I see?
My new shoes, with all the embellishments on one shoe completely chewed off. Beyond repair. The $23 shoes I bought myself from Payless ($23-is that paying less? Paymore?) that were super cute. They were also the first pair of cute shoes (crocs and running shoes don't count) I bought myself after having Ayla. That's right, the first cute pair in TWO YEARS.
I lost my shit. There's no nice way of saying that. I sit here now, in fact, so ashamed of the way I acted.
I threw the shoes at his cage, which he wasn't even in and almost hit the fish tank.
I screamed the F-bomb. Multiple times.
I told him (pooch) I hated him. I told him to just die. I almost killed him, in fact.
What's the term? Blind rage? I went ape shit.
Then, I came to the bedroom and posted Oscar for sale on Facebook for $100. I also picked a fight with Brandon when he came to the bedroom. I told him that I was selling Oscar, to which he said, "Okay," with what sounded like doubt in his voice (this isn't the first time I've been ready to sell the little f*cker). I didn't like that, so I stormed off to the couch for 2.5 minutes.
He was pissed at me for acting like such a fool. Which is an underexaggeration of my behavior. I'm embarrassed that Ayla heard me ranting and raving like a lunatic.
Well, then I started picking up stuff from all over the house, taking laundry to the mud room, and various other chore-type duties. Because had I put my shoes in the front closet, they wouldn't have been destroyed.
When I settled down a little bit, Brandon came back to bed and so did I.
Then, I proceeded to cry hysterically. Which I hate to admit because although I find it therapeutic and healing for others to let themselves cry, I feel weak when I do.
I cried for acting like such a dumb butt. Then, I kept crying because I was so mean to my puppy. After all, he's just a baby. He is younger than Ayla! (Still...shoe chewer, grr...) The dam of tears broke open, and soon I was crying because of the I can'ts and I'm not good enoughs. Can't keep the house clean. Can't find cute clothes. Can't lose weight. Can't, can't, can't. Can't keep my dog from chewing up my shoes. Not a good enough mom. Not a good enough fiancee. Not a good enough daughter. Not a good enough teacher. I suck, I suck, I suck.
Cry, cry again. Kind of like when Elaine danced on Seinfeld.
In the words of Seinfeld, "Sweet fancy Moses!" You cry...and then you cry again. (This one is for my dear friend Shannon!)
I'm so grateful for Brandon. When I rattled off all the things that overwhelm me, he said, "I'll help baby. I'll do x, y, and z to help you." I love him so much. Can I just mention that I am so happy that I get to marry him in just 5 short months?!
After all that crying, I woke up with swollen eyes and a headache. But some of that stress was off my back. Every instance I bottled up my stress, frustration, and general feeling of discontent wasn't gone, but at least it wasn't bubbling at the surface, waiting for a chewed up shoe to be the boiling over point.
Now, I leave you with these words of wisdom for the next time your dog chews up your shoes...
"Speak when you're angry, and you'll make the best speech you'll ever regret."
Oh yeah, one more thing. Don't pick a fight with your honey, especially when you know he'll make you feel so guilty for it later with his total patience and sweetness.
Well, I let Oscar out of his cage and fed him and Boo girl. Boo came back to the bedroom with me, and Osk was running in and out of the room, which was annoying me.
Later on, I went out to the living room for something, which totally escapes me now. What did I see?
My new shoes, with all the embellishments on one shoe completely chewed off. Beyond repair. The $23 shoes I bought myself from Payless ($23-is that paying less? Paymore?) that were super cute. They were also the first pair of cute shoes (crocs and running shoes don't count) I bought myself after having Ayla. That's right, the first cute pair in TWO YEARS.
I lost my shit. There's no nice way of saying that. I sit here now, in fact, so ashamed of the way I acted.
I threw the shoes at his cage, which he wasn't even in and almost hit the fish tank.
I screamed the F-bomb. Multiple times.
I told him (pooch) I hated him. I told him to just die. I almost killed him, in fact.
What's the term? Blind rage? I went ape shit.
Then, I came to the bedroom and posted Oscar for sale on Facebook for $100. I also picked a fight with Brandon when he came to the bedroom. I told him that I was selling Oscar, to which he said, "Okay," with what sounded like doubt in his voice (this isn't the first time I've been ready to sell the little f*cker). I didn't like that, so I stormed off to the couch for 2.5 minutes.
He was pissed at me for acting like such a fool. Which is an underexaggeration of my behavior. I'm embarrassed that Ayla heard me ranting and raving like a lunatic.
Well, then I started picking up stuff from all over the house, taking laundry to the mud room, and various other chore-type duties. Because had I put my shoes in the front closet, they wouldn't have been destroyed.
When I settled down a little bit, Brandon came back to bed and so did I.
Then, I proceeded to cry hysterically. Which I hate to admit because although I find it therapeutic and healing for others to let themselves cry, I feel weak when I do.
I cried for acting like such a dumb butt. Then, I kept crying because I was so mean to my puppy. After all, he's just a baby. He is younger than Ayla! (Still...shoe chewer, grr...) The dam of tears broke open, and soon I was crying because of the I can'ts and I'm not good enoughs. Can't keep the house clean. Can't find cute clothes. Can't lose weight. Can't, can't, can't. Can't keep my dog from chewing up my shoes. Not a good enough mom. Not a good enough fiancee. Not a good enough daughter. Not a good enough teacher. I suck, I suck, I suck.
Cry, cry again. Kind of like when Elaine danced on Seinfeld.
In the words of Seinfeld, "Sweet fancy Moses!" You cry...and then you cry again. (This one is for my dear friend Shannon!)
I'm so grateful for Brandon. When I rattled off all the things that overwhelm me, he said, "I'll help baby. I'll do x, y, and z to help you." I love him so much. Can I just mention that I am so happy that I get to marry him in just 5 short months?!
After all that crying, I woke up with swollen eyes and a headache. But some of that stress was off my back. Every instance I bottled up my stress, frustration, and general feeling of discontent wasn't gone, but at least it wasn't bubbling at the surface, waiting for a chewed up shoe to be the boiling over point.
Now, I leave you with these words of wisdom for the next time your dog chews up your shoes...
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