I just ordered E not to make eye contact with me and to not speak to me unless spoken to. Luckily, he laughed.
I sat down to start this blog about an hour ago and have had to get up multiple times to make another cup of coffee, find Landon an Alabama shirt to wear, get my headphones out of my computer bag, and make fun of Bo Wallace (known as Bro Ballace in my house) in the Ole Miss/TCU game on the TV right now. Ignoring the TV is much harder than it used to be because I bought E surround sound for Christmas and it’s, well, distracting, especially when wonderful football sounds are emanating from it.
I always write when the kids are at school and E is at work or after everyone’s in bed for the night so this has been very difficult but here we go. Martial law has been enforced in my house. God be with them as I write this.
I haven’t written in a while because E’s Dad, Bob, died on December 12th. Bob fell in October and broke his hip, leading to the discovery of advanced lung cancer. E spent some quality time with his Dad during those last days, including watching Alabama win their 24th SEC Championship with him. All of Bob’s family is from Alabama and one of his brothers was buried in his beloved Alabama Crocs. We were at that funeral and I can vouch for that fact.
There are many great memories of Bob but these are mine. He was a quiet man so when he talked, I knew to listen because what came out was usually pretty insightful. He worked hard for his family, always. He loved to garden and always had fresh produce either ready to be picked or growing when I first met E. He loved to travel with his camper and he loved his demon cat McKenzie, who is immortalized in a huge picture in E’s parent’s bedroom to this day. He loved his beer. When we arrived in Arizona, we drove straight to my in-law’s house. My nephew was watching Monday night football and drinking a Miller High Life, which was Bob’s beer of choice. There was a new 30 pack in the kitchen. I watched football and drank a Miller High Life in honor of Bob. R.I.P., Bob. Thank you for your hand in raising the man I have called my husband for the last 23 years.
Everything holiday related was accelerated, gift deliveries were missed because we were supposed to be here in Bama a week longer. I was just outside on a Monday, putting up 1200 more Christmas lights to piss my neighbor off and by Friday, I was frantically packing for a funeral in Arizona and then immediate cold Texas Christmas. I had sweet friends who stopped by to get very valuable presents off my front porch in Bama, stored the gifts I had with me in Dallas so they wouldn’t be stolen out of the truck at DFW airport, took concert tickets for me so they wouldn’t go to waste, and played the best ever last minute Santa on the phone to my kids.
As I look back on 2014, the overwhelming theme for me seems to be friends. The good ones, the bad ones, the downright toxic ones, and how I should handle each of those categories.
I seem to have finally attained the ability this past year to simply walk away and that’s a good thing. My zodiac sign, Capricorn, is wrong about my actual traits on so many levels that sometimes I’d swear I wasn’t born in January. One of those Capricorn traits is the ability to walk away from a “bad” friend, emotionally and literally, without a thought or a backward glance. I didn’t seem to acquire that ability until just this year and it’s actually quite freeing.
I can’t control other people’s behavior, as much as I have tried, but I can control mine. I control my reactions, my decisions, who I keep in my life, who I need to lower expectations of in order to keep in my life, whose shitty behavior is worth putting up with, who contributes absolutely nothing to my life and is just an onlooker or judge, who influences me and makes me either feel fucking awesome about myself and everything in life, or who makes me feel worthless and full of doubts.
On the other side of the coin, I want my friends to hold me accountable. Call me on my own bullshit. Do it with love and call me a taint stain, but hold me accountable. I don’t want “yes” friends because those aren’t true friends. You can tell me anything with true affection and love and I can take it. It will be hard and I’ll probably kick you in the crotch repeatedly and possibly shank you, but if it’s said with love, it will get through to my dense brain eventually.
I have no New Year’s resolutions. I should have some, trust me. I’m eating everything in sight like an alcoholic drinks the entire liquor cabinet after being mistakenly included in the text about their own intervention scheduled for the following night. If you don’t hear from me for a few days, it’s because I am in a sugar coma somewhere in Birmingham.
Resolutions are pretty much bullshit anyway. This year, I just vow to do better, on every level. That’s all anyone can do. Be a better significant other, mother, daughter, sister, friend, person. I just want to be a better chick. Period.
Happy New Year! Thank you so much for reading my blog this year. It still amazes me that anyone reads my shit. I got my end of year stat report yesterday and it blew me away. My counter at the bottom of each blog has been way off these past couple months and it bothered me, even though I knew it was wrong. The end of year report confirmed that I’m not alone and that there are more than 7 people who read this shit. I love you all and I wish you the very best in 2015. Now, go do better.