Monthly Archives: May 2018

Anxious

Hi. My name is Emily, and I’m a thinker. And a worrier. And a people pleaser. And a shit show. And a bitch…not all the time, but definitely sometimes. 

I’m not really sure what the point of this story is, but I have found recently that getting thoughts out of my head and into words can be very therapeutic, so this is really just a way for me to clear some space in my brain so I can better retain baseball statistics 😉

A friend of mine recently posted a rambling blog about her anxiety (thank you Lana), and I hung on every word, identifying with every single thing she said. It made me feel so normal to know that someone else had these feelings of apprehension and anxiousness when–to everyone around them–it seemed to be the complete opposite. 

Cue the bitch. Here I am finding comfort in someone else’s struggle because it’s similar to mine. So what does that make me? A crazy bitch who wants other people to feel crazy too so I’m not alone in this crazy bitch game??? I mean, I really hope not, but it’s definitely a possibility 😉

And then I had a conference with my son’s teacher. My kid (Henry) is killing kindergarten. I’m so proud. The only concern his teacher expressed was how Henry wants so badly to master every task on his own, without help. And if he doesn’t, he feels like he has failed. I hurt just thinking about what his sweet, 6-year-old heart must be going through. I mean, I’m 40, and I still don’t know how to deal with it. 

We’ve seen it in him for awhile. He gets up at 5:45 in the morning because he doesn’t want to be late for school. If we leave the house at 7:32 instead of 7:30, his wheels are completely shot off for the rest of the day. 

To be honest, I haven’t known exactly how to deal with it. We do our best not to coddle in our house. There are consequences for actions, and we preach that life isn’t always rainbows and unicorns. But I also want my kids to be able to feel safe with their feelings. And deciphering between a pouty kid and a legitimate issue that needs to be addressed can be a fine line. 

And this is what I have come away with. Henry is me. The little girl that slept on top of her covers in her school clothes so she wouldn’t have to waste time getting dressed and making her bed in the morning so she could be on time for school. The little girl who never wanted to fail at anything because she didn’t want to disappoint anyone. And now, the grown ass woman who can’t just be still and whose mind rarely stops racing.

As his mom, I just want to do the right by him, even though I don’t exactly know what that looks like. I want him to know that it’s ok to strive for perfection, but I also want him to know that there is no way in hell that’s ever going to happen. And that’s ok. It’s more than ok. That’s just life–for him and all of us.

I want him to be able to talk to me about his fears and his insecurities. I want him to embrace his weaknesses so he can learn from them and be stronger for it. I want him to know that his mom is a giant shit show, still trying to figure this thing out at every turn too. I want him to mean well and do good, knowing that sometimes intentions don’t always mirror execution. 

Above all else, I just don’t want him to feel alone. So if I have to remind him every day that he got this crazy from his mama, that’s what I’m gonna do. Because if nothing else, I hope he’ll find some comfort in knowing he comes by it honestly.

***I’ve talked to Henry’s pediatrician and am going to get him in with a child psychologist. If you have any experience with this, I would love to hear from you.

Super Sucky Feeling

There has been another school shooting, and at this point, I don’t even know what to think or say anymore. I have absolutely no answers or even suggestions as to what to do. I have prayed for the families and friends of those who lost loved ones and will continue to do so. I also won’t apologize for that, because honestly, that’s what I do when I don’t know what else to do.

But I also realize thoughts and prayers aren’t going to keep our kids safe in school, so I want to do more…but what? I can raise my two children to be kind to others and try to set that same example myself, but what else?

It’s difficult to even have reasonable conversations anymore. Everyone is so dug in to their respective “sides” that it’s hard to find any middle ground. And that’s where I am…stuck in the middle.

I’ve voted Republican. I’ve voted Democrat. I support the Second Amendment. We have guns in our house. But also think it’s ludicrous that we have such easy access to freaking semi-automatic weapons. If you know me at all, you know how I feel about politics. And if you don’t know me at all–let me tell you–I hate politics.

But today, a perfect stranger made me realize something (thanks Phil). Maybe it’s time I get over myself and start paying closer attention. So this is what I’m going to do. I’m going to look for organizations–NOT affiliated with a political party–who are working to facilitate change in regard to gun control and see how I can help.

The first one I’m going to look into is Moms Demand Action. I know nothing about them other than I like their Twitter bio–“reasonable solutions to address our nation’s culture of gun violence.” So if anyone has any personal experiences with them, I’d love to hear from you.

I’m also going to give listening a try. Here I am thinking I’m this reasonable down-the-middle chick trying to make sure her kids are safe, but I’m sure there are people on the left who think I’m a nut job and people on the right who think I’ve lost my mind.

So instead of assuming people are crazy because they think differently than me, I’m going to try and find out why they feel the way they do and learn about the experiences that have molded those feelings. If you understand where someone came from you can better understand where they are coming from, if that makes sense.

But full disclosure–I’m only having these conversations with people who are also willing to listen in return. If you look solely to an elephant or a donkey to make all your decisions, I’m out.

So while I still feel utterly helpless, I’m at least going to try and educate myself a little. And try to be nice to more people.

A-holes and Camel Toes

A-Holes and Camel Toes

It’s been a banner week for me on social media. I called my kid (and myself) an asshole on Instagram, and no one even yelled at me. Then I took a picture in a form-fitting dress with a camel, and all hell broke loose.

First, the former. Tuesday, my 6-year-old son Henry had a rough morning. His little sister pissed him off. He pretended to punch her. She cried. And I lost my shit. The “hands to yourself thing” is a big player in our house, mostly because both our kids have a hard time doing it. So when I thought he actually punched her, I did the mean mom march right up to him, threw in some pissed off mom yelling with a healthy mix of stern finger pointing and finished it off with a, “Go get in the car right now. You are grounded.”

There were no words on the short drive to school. I told him I loved him as he got out of the car, he froze me out like Hungry Man TV dinner, and off he went. And off I went to do a commercial shoot in Dallas (I schlep cars in my spare time). But all I could think about was how big of an asshole I was to my kid. He’s six. I’m 40. I should’ve taken the high road. I didn’t. And it killed me.

I had a game that night, and I knew I wouldn’t get to see Henry until the next morning, so I wanted to make things right. I drove back to Fort Worth as quick as I could and pulled Henry out of school so I could apologize. Talk about humble pie. Here I was, the grown up, having to say sorry to the 6-year-old for getting it wrong. Little did I know it would be one of  the most liberating and rewarding experiences of my brief parenting career.

I took him to our favorite lunch spot. I told him I was sorry for the way I reacted. And then I called him (and me) an asshole on Instagram (see below). Henry doesn’t know I called either one of us an asshole, and I hope to keep that way for at least 10 years, but strangely enough, I’m glad I did. Because you know what happened? Tons of parents who have been through that same scenario in their house didn’t feel alone. They identified with the fact that I lost my shit and felt the need to apologize to my kid. And their comments made be feel better.

And that makes me do a social media fist pump.

 

Now to the latter.

The Rangers hold their big charity event, Triple Play, every year, and I love being a part of it. Everyone gets dressed up and cuts loose. It’s a nice change of pace from the grind of a Major League Baseball season. Even though it’s work, I always have a great time. This year’s theme called for a live camel, and who doesn’t want a photo op with a live camel? Ok, maybe a lot of people, but I wasn’t going to miss out on a chance to take a pic with a camel on Hump Day, nonetheless!

I posted it on Twitter with the hilarious caption of “Stop. Camel time.” Let me know when you’re done laughing ;). Anyway, the picture elicited a comment that made me think. It had to do with my dress being tight and insert camel toe joke here. Look, there was an actual camel toe in the picture, so maybe this guy was just trying to be funny. I mean, I appreciate a good camel toe joke as much as the next guy–and lord knows I’ve whiffed on plenty of attempted Twitter jokes–but I felt like there might have been a hint of mean in there, and I wanted to address it.

Was it tight? Damn straight it was. It’s not like I thought I was walking around in sweats and a turtleneck. I felt pretty in that dress. I felt confident in that dress. People said nice things to me in that dress, and I appreciated them. I’m not sure if that guy was trying to shame me or not, but I wanted him to know that it’s cool if he thinks my dress was too tight. I also wanted him to know I didn’t give a shit about what he thinks.

After I sent my response, I wondered if I sounded cocky and vain. Maybe I did. But you know what? I don’t think there’s anything wrong with wanting to look pretty and feel confident. And whether it’s a bandage dress (thanks to my former roomie and fashionista Meredith Land for letting me know that’s what it’s called) or a potato sack that does it for you, get after it! It’s such a fine line with women, particularly in my line of work, but it shouldn’t be. I mean I’m not showing up at the ballpark in a bikini anytime soon, but you get the point.

And I totally get that when you put something out there on social media, you’ve got to be prepared for feedback. Isn’t that what it’s all about? But that feedback isn’t always going to be positive, so you have to decide how you’re going to handle it. Ignore it or address it. In this case,  I wanted to address it, and I’m glad I did.