Day 3 of Crazy Watch, or My Nonsensical, Incessant Ramblings

I'm kind of like a neurotic lap dog, in that I really shouldn't be left alone for too long or I start doing naughty things.  In my case I don't rip up cushions or pee on the floor, but I do eat a lot of chocolate and start thinking too much.

My sister recently posted about her "fantasies," such as being chosen by "the Doctor" to go be his traveling companion.  It got me thinking about the different fantasies I've had, and how they have changed, and how they are being thwarted by my own incompetence.

I remember when I was 16, and in an unhealthy relationship, going to my boyfriend's volleyball games and admiring one of the guys on his team.  #2 was gorgeous, intensely focused, very talented, and just fun to watch.  He was one of the team captains, an All American player, and had an air of competence and determination that I found irresistible.  My boyfriend's sister and I would drool over him and cheer for him since her brother/my boyfriend almost never played.  In my head I had fantasies that he would look my way and be so captivated that he would walk over with that determined stride and ask me out immediately (or be so taken with my charms that he would kiss me on the spot).  We didn't know who he was at first so we just called him #2.  Now I call him my #1.

For those of you that didn't get it, Eric was #2 on that Volleyball team.

Another fantasy that I had was being "discovered."  I didn't ever want to be famous, but I wanted to have someone see me, and see potential.  Totally vain, but I think the insecurities of being a teenager make you want outside recognition.  When I was 19 I had that fantasy fulfilled when a TV producer from the sleazy show "Change of Heart" came up to me on the beach and asked me to be on the show.  Basically I would go on a date with a guy to help him decide if he wanted to stay with his girlfriend or try something new.  Totally sleazy show, but legitimate.  He made me an appointment, but I thought maybe it was just a scam for a middle aged guy to hit on young women.  Later when I called the TV studio they actually had my name down and tried to talk me out of canceling.  Weird, but no longer a fantasy.

My latest fantasy has been one of leaving a legacy.  I was watching Dr Who (of course) and there is an episode where they try to help Vincent Van Gogh (my favorite painter, probably because we are both mad, now that I think about it).  They take him to the future and help him see that people will appreciate him, that he has a lasting effect on people and art.  I've watched the episode twice now (it's the one my sister lured me in with) and I bawled both times.  I don't want millions of people to appreciate me, but I do want people, especially my family, to think of me when I am gone and say "she helped me with this..." or "she did this and it influenced me..."  I will never be a saint.  I won't be remembered as an all around good person who influenced the world for the better, but I do want to have aspects of my life remembered positively.

Yesterday it felt like I was farther from that fantasy than ever before.  Eric has been out of town for a few days, which always wears me down a bit.  When I picked the kids up from school they complained the whole way home because I hadn't brought a snack for the car.  The complained about me making them do their homework.  Their friends came over and commented on my lack of housekeeping skills.  I tried to take the kids out for a treat of McDonalds (which in and of itself shows I'm not winning parenting awards anytime soon), just to have the girls tell me they don't want it, and why would pick that.  I was at about my wits end with my kids when there was a knock at the door.  Standing at my door was a policeman.

Fabulous.  It turns out Ethan and his friend were throwing rocks at a squirrel in the back yard (there is some debate as to whether Ethan threw rocks or not, but he didn't stop his friend so he is still a culprit).  If trying to hurt an animal wasn't enough to mortify me, my backyard neighbor called the cops because the rocks were flying into her yard and she was mad because they could ruin her riding lawn mower.  Not something I would think warrant a call to the cops, but I guess she didn't want to cause a conflict (because calling the cops is so much less confrontational).  My neighbors already think I am the white trash mom who doesn't keep her yard up to scratch, but now I am having police called to my house.  I wanted to die of embarrassment.

Basically the whole day showed me what a massive failure I am.  I can't handle 3 days without my spouse.  I can't feed my kids properly.  I can't keep my house presentable.  I can't help my kids see how great school is.  I can't raise kids who think for themselves.  No one is going to look back at me and think fondly of what I did for them.  I'll be lucky if my kids look back and don't enumerate the ways I screwed them up.

On the bright side, I get to make sugar cookies to take to my neighbor to apologize which means I get to eat sugar cookie dough.  On the bright side I finished putting in information on another bankruptcy so I bought my self a TARDIS cookie jar to put my sugar cookies in.  On the bright side, Eric comes home tonight.  On the bright side, as soon as the Zoloft I forgot to take yesterday kicks in, this will all be put back into perspective.  Until then, though, I think I'm going to need to go get a handful of that cookie dough...