why do I feel like such a dork when ever I visit or get visited by my sisters? Yesterday Pam and Cindy and youngins came for a belated birthday celebration for Hollace.
We made brioche (Hollace’s only requirement for a party in her honor), had cake and ice cream, I ordered Gioradano’s stuffed pizza. Hollace and Emma went off to do art, the youngest two kept themselves amused and played outside a bit. Phillip played on the Wii and was bored. He also wasn’t too thrilled that the cake or ice cream wasn’t chocolate. He is at that everything is disappointing age (10).
Had a nice visit with Pam and Cindy but I always leave the visit feeling disappointed or embarrassed or something. I have this illusion (or not) that I am a dork. I feel awkward and they are family! We spent most of the visit at the kitchen table with our iPads (or theirs at least because I let Michael play on mine) playing games and trying to get iMessage to work between us.
At a loss to what to do to keep everyone entertained, I put on a movie no one has seen yet that is family friendly and an Academy award winner– Hugo.
I shared with my sisters my neuroses on my impending room remodel. Normally I keep that in but for some reason I have been sharing that with everyone. How the hell am I going to empty this room of all the big stuff? Where am I going to put it all? And how am I going to cope with all the disorder! Oh, I know, get over myself LOL. Hey, I generally don’t get hung up on this kind of thing. Probably because I don’t do it much.
Which brings me to my next topic. I live life too safely. I avoid turmoil and stress by living in a tiny house instead of moving to a more adequate house. By having only one kid. By having only one cat. Everything stays under control and low stress. Add another kid or two, a dog and a bigger house payment and we have more chaos, less money and no time (which I am ultra protective of, today we moved the clocks up an hour and it sucks). On the flip side, a boring existence, a crappy little house with no room and a kid with no big childhood memories.
It’s been this way for 15 years and now at 48, it is bugging me. In five years the crappy little house is paid off. The thing is I am not unhappy or I know I would of done something about this by now. I think I am projecting what others might think. Deb at work mentioned last week when I put my room remodel neuroses out there that she is surprised we haven’t ever moved from that tiny house. All I really want is a place that makes sense for the treadmill and I can go on as usual. Or do I shake things up? Lets just get through the room remodels and go from there.