I have a looooooong history with this sort of palaver. You’d think I’d have learned my lesson. But no, the heavy stuff remains a common thread in my life.
Generally, it’s emotional burdens I carry. Geez they drag me down sometimes.
But I’ve become a heat-seeking missile for the physical ones too.
It’s the youngest’s birthday on Sunday. As regular HouseGoesHome readers know, she’s having a pool party and I have lots of awesome aquatic-themed goodies and nibbles planned.
But her birthday gift has done my head in. She’s even harder to buy for than me. I was instructed to tell all party goers – and relatives – that she wanted JB-HiFi vouchers as gifts.
We’re still giving joint presents, so my ex suggested we buy her JB-HiFi vouchers too. But she said no, she wanted SOMETHING that was a proper pressie.
My first two mad suggestions – a blow-up water slide and an electric scooter – were vetoed by the ex.
So I talked her into a netball stand and hoop. She wasn’t super keen at first. Then she got word she might be shooter for her netball team, so a hoop in the backyard suddenly got very appealing.
I thought the ex might baulk, as it will reside at my place alongside the farking heavy ping pong table we got her for Christmas (that still isn’t properly assembled because a whole bag of brackets was missing – this is why $89 ping pong tables are never really bargains).
It kinda gives me all the parental glory when it’s my backyard full of play things. But he seemed fine with it.
I’d left my run a bit too late to order it online so I trekked to Rebel yesterday while the youngest lay on the couch coughing her lungs up with the flu. Please let her rally by Sunday.
As is my luck, the two cheaper models were out of stock so I had to get the Rolls Royce version.
Fortunately it wasn’t nearly as heavy as the ping pong table, which almost killed me hefting into the car, but it was still an awkward stagger.
As are the emotional burdens. They keep tripping me up when I least expect it. I’ll be meandering along, blissed up to the eyeballs, and then WHAM, an emotional trigger knocks me for a six.
Mainly I think it’s that I’m scared of negative emotions. My ex’s reason for leaving was because he could “never make me happy” (a decision that ironically made me the most miserable I’ve ever been).
So I get anxious about NOT being happy. Since not being happy caused my marriage to break up, I feel driven to be cheery all the time. No one wants a grumpy Alana.
It’s only a year since the separation, so being cheery all the time is a big ask. The turkeys don’t get me down nearly as much as they once did, but sometimes – OK, regularly – the woe-is-me-life-is-so-hard blues hit. And even a birthday can’t banish them.
But something has shifted. Nowadays, nothing keeps me down for long. I know life is pretty amazing, I just have to get through the latest challenge.
And I’m ridiculously “Accidentally Kelly Street” at least once every day.
Do you have a tween? What’s on their gift wish list?
Song of the day: Frente! “Accidentally Kelly Street”