Creature of habit-at

I hate to admit it but I think I am an extremely obsessive person. About odd things like keeping my house clean, keeping my child's toys orderly, painting my nails, keeping laundry down to nothing, emptying the water that fills in the soap dishes, putting up the shades to the same length, making  homemade soup almost everyday [even in the summer], walking the same path with my baby everyday, cooking the same foods, eating the same foods at specific restaurants,

having candles burning during the day, doing the same things and wholeheartedly expecting different results.......and we all know what that is.

 You see, I am a creature of habit to an extreme degree. I have things that I do over and over and over. Day after day and year after year. I am quite predictable. And a walking contradiction as well. But not in the ' touch the light switch three times ' kind of way. But more in the "do what I know" kind of way. This combined with being a control freak and a busy addict creates a sort of hell for my family. I do 20 things at one time and expect others to keep up. I am even this way in my communication. I have many voices going on in my head at all times and come out with complete nonsequetor. But the train of the thought is normal to me. Albeit ,Abby Normal.  

Is it that I just long for control in a world where we never have any. That and a desire for things not to keep changing, which as you can imagine causes so much pain. Mix in some huge abandonment issues and I am certifiable. Most people are, I think but cannot admit it. In the unconscious mind, we are all nuts, lets face it. And as I work to bring a light more light onto my issues ......it is madness. I must credit my dear David Lynch who always encouraged me to not be afraid to shine a light in the dark corners of my mind. He does so by  courageous example and I love him for teaching me that.

 Of course I'd much rather keep the spotlight on the shiny, great parts of me and pretend the other stuff does not exist. Who wouldn't... Oh, who am I kidding, that is not true. It may have been in the past but part of this blog is to tear down the walls that hold me inside.....[thank you Bono]  To stop trying to say my words within the context of others' words. To show me, warts and all and in that find my voice/my truth because truth is so beautiful to me.

The pattern of my days changes very little and when it does, I have great  anxiety.  I wake up between 7 an 7:30am. My baby nurses like a banshee and as I pry myself away, he screams bloody murder. He is a Leo and has a roar like no other. I make my way through the maze of locked baby proofed gates, and toys lodged in places designed to stop the 4 [ugh,yes 4 ] dogs from coming into the kitchen area and peeing all over the carpet. It is an obstacle course for sure. At least one time a day, one of of slams against it or falls or smashes our toe. It's a real party.

First order of business, make 6 cups of coffee in the maker for me and my man to wake up.

Then I promptly begin to clean and organize all my baby's toys. I believe they play better without chaos but maybe its ME that plays better without chaos. Of course I wouldn't know, since all I have is chaos.  This ritual of cleaning and organizing his toys is repeated numerous times through out the day. Clean up books, he throws them. Arrange trains, he throws them. Put balls back into the bucket, he throws them. It is yet another, kind of madness within my so called life. Sometimes he will even stalk me and throw them just as I finish. And I have even engaged in many a battle where he throws them and I put them back, and he throws them and I put them back...... guess who wins??!!! You got it.  The Leo baby.  But alas, there is always a little while later when distracted, I succeed at getting it all arranged perfectly for optimal play...... He wins some battles but I win the war.

So one may see how some of this is borderline obsessive. And that is only the 15 to 20 minutes of my morning. God forbid do I endeavor to change my outgoing message on my cell phone. This is repeated to nauseam, never feeling I can get it right. [Too sweet, too wanna be sexy, to long, to childish, too too]  Then I have approximately 1 hour and 15 minutes to get breakfast for my man, 2 teenagers and baby. And then its preparing lunches for all. Often times fried chicken tenders[ a 12 year habit] or now this year, I have opened it up a little and am actually making sandwiches. Wow, growth, who da  thunk. Being on the budget means food made at home is always cheaper. bvdjdhotuehwvnkblkghejkl!!! Budgets suck... no one can be a true Gelson's whore on a budget.

Then it is juggling my baby. Playing, reading and watching Thomas the tank engine.  Doing laundry. Writing my blog when time and thoughts permit. Sometimes [OK. almost daily] trying to paint my nails when they inevitable gets knocked and look like shit. So the process starts all over again tomorrow. Are we having fun yet? Doing all the morning dishes. Wrangling all the dogs outside. Rainy days present a special kind of joy.  Muddy paws in and out all day. Cute little buggers. And cleaning up the endless poop they seem to leave IN the house. So much for the $3,500. training per dog at at "top kennel" in Santa Monica. You know the kind, with pictures of "stars" all over the walls. It didn't mean shit. Literally. Pun intended.  

Preparing for the daily walk can be harder than it seems. Must get both of us dressed. I have been doing a weight loss wrap so that means putting on the oil while avoiding my satellite baby who wants to touch me  at all times.  Especially when my energy is begging that he doesn't. Murphy's Law runs rampant in my life, how about yours? Then wrapping myself with saran wrap like a sausage up one leg, across the hips [God help these Italian/Hungarian hips]  and down the other.  Promotes sweating, you see. And it itches like crazy. But I am in Hollywoodland and if I want to work, [which sometimes I'm not even sure I do] I cannot have extra weight on me. Not in the land of Hollypops. Sticks with heads. 

The walk itself is always a great reprieve and feels great to move. Because I get so little movement the rest of the day...hehehe. I walk like a woman on a mission. Briskly and with a good amount of pace. Right left right left. The same thought running through my head over and over.  If you keep your heart rate up for at least 45 minutes, you burn FAT all day. Right left right left, squeezing each buttocks as I go. Trying desperately to tighten me booty.  Right left right left. Sometimes under headphones with music, moving to the beat of the song. Alanis Morrisette: though I love her is sometimes too slow. But meaningful.  Red hot chili peppers: Californication gets a good work out.  U2 : seems to have a bit of it all.[Again, thank you Bono]

Once home baby boy sleeps for a bit so I am free. Free to do what I want, free to be who I want. So I  run for my daily fix of one my idols, Marilyn Milian . She is the judge on The People's Court. I want to be her when I grow up. hmmmmmmm, that's disturbing coming from a 44 year old woman. Oh well, tis the truth and you know me with that.  Judge Milian's ability to weed through all the bullshit , get to the bottom line in mere minutes, her neutral approach to every person that enters her courtroom and her commitment to what is true. 

I even steal some of her sayings: To my self obsessed, manipulative step daughter I'll say:"Where you're going, I've  been, sat down, had a coke and came back!"  That is my favourite.   Or there is "It  looks like we have to do a little rough justice here." And ,"What do you think this is a bonanza?"  And when she is interrupted, which is often as I am "Did I breath and give you the impression I was done talking??!!" Judge  Marilyn Milian, you literally make me a better woman.

After my fix, it is only a short amount of time before the teenagers get home. This means enjoy the peace while it lasts.  My stepdaughter literally never stops talking and all she talks about is herself. On and on and on go her stories featuring her the star of each and everyone. My son will alternate between screaming everything he says as if all others are twenty yards away to only answering in one word sentences, a series of grunts and clicks. And that is if he talks and answers at all. 14 and 15 as they are, they will more often then they care  for me to admit behave as if they are 4 year olds, he teasing and scaring her, she shrieking and screaming, stop it, stop it, stop it.  You feel like you are losing your mind. And you are.

It is now that the countdown ensues, [ 15,14,13, ] waiting for my man to come [ 12,11, ]  and buffer all this with me. So a bottle of wine MUST be opened  [10, 9, ] as I try to ignore the teens and maneuver through the witching hour with the baby [ 8,7 ] while I monitor them.[ 6,5, ] Are u doing your homework? Take out the trash! [ 4 ]  Why is your room a pig stye AGAIN?[ 3 ] Stop teasing the baby. [ 2  ] Stop teasing each other.  [1 ] You got what grade on that test.  [1...] You left dishes here.  [1!] uhh [where is he?]  Take your stuff to your room, not in the middle of the floor. [ 1!! ] Did u feed the dogs? [ 1!!!] uhhhhh  [where is he??]  [ 1!!!! ] Hang up the phone and finish your homework.  [0??!!!!! ]  [where is he? Abandonment kicking in!!]   This is it. This is my life.

 Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home. 

At last he arrives and  I have a real partner. When he is here, he is always helping in so many ways. We bear the burdens & joys together. Because to be good parents, one must be involved completely. And make no mistakes, babies are amazing. But teenagers can make you crazy. And we have teenagers AND diapers. Therefore, we are amazed and crazy. Amazingly crazy.

This may lead one to believe that I long for a different life. Less stress. A healthier grasp of my issues. More money.  Better behaved kids. Less obsessive patterns. Well, I do........................ Want more money. Who doesn't. But I would not give up any part of this, my life, for the world. It is mine and perfectly....mad.  Don't cha know, its a mad, mad, mad, mad world.  Marvelously mad. And everchanging.  

Be it ever so humble....there's no place like home.