I Think I’m BiPolar…or something…

20 May

If I were a psychologist I could probably diagnose myself a little better.

I’m up!

I’m down!

I’m this way!

I’m that way!

I want to work out and get in shape and be healthy!

I want to sit on the couch and cancel my gym membership!

I don’t mind working at Wal-Mart!

I HATE working at Wal-Mart!

I want to be a basketball coach!

I want to do something ANYTHING with my life.

I don’t want to work at Wal-Mart forever. I don’t even want to work there for the next couple of years. I look at that and get depressed. Seriously.

I’m getting mini anxiety attacks every day that I have to work. These are starting to worry me. I get nervous stomach and then want to eat a lot.

Deep breath now, I’m going to just start typing things that are going on in my head at this very moment…

I found a blog of a woman who named her son Oscar. This disturbs me greatly. Because that kid does not look like Oscar at all. I look at my boy and see “Oscar” I look at her boy and see a weird kid that kinda resembles an alien. I’m a little possessive about these things. I found out that a neighbor’s friend named her son Oscar last year and that kinda made me angry. Weird right? It shouldn’t bother me. But when I named him I kind of was hoping that there wouldn’t be that many out there and that I would have a harder time running across that name. Don’t get me started on seeing my name in comment sections of blogs that I read. Who’s the impostor?! Me or the other Miranda/Randa?

I had a dream last night that Oscar drowned in a gigantic bath tub. I saved him, but Jesse was in the other bathroom taking a shower and I was yelling and screaming for him to help me and he just kept taking his shower. I had a bad feeling that I would have a dream like this before I went to bed because Oscar’s sick and even though I don’t show it very often I tend to worry that he’s going to die in his sleep. Because that happens, you know.

I don’t think I talk about my parenting and my child as much as other bloggers that I read, and I wonder if I don’t take enough joy and wonderment out of my situation as other people. When Oscar turned two I didn’t write a post saying goodbye to his baby-hood. I didn’t really even notice. I’m just not that kind of parent I guess. I do miss him being a baby and not being able to move around as much I’ll give you that. I guess I’m just not a sap or something. Maybe because I have no direction to this blog. I guess it’s my own inferiority complex at play here. Man I need to get back to a counselor/therapist or something. I’m losing it.

I just yelled this at my son: “You EAT the Jello! You don’t PLAY with the Jello!”
And with that I have to clean up a blue jello mess! This is parenting. It is not glamorous, it’s not pretty. But it’s not all that hard.

People make a big deal about parenting. Like it’s the hardest thing that you’ll ever have to do in the world. It’s not. It’s fun at times it sucks at times, just like any job. I just haven’t found out if it’s “worth it” or not yet.

Oh and I have a plan for the future. I’m going to work until Jesse gets a good job after going to school and then I’m going to have babies. Lots and lots of babies. I might start late but I’m going to do it. HAHAHHA. This sounds like a good plan doesn’t it? V? You know you love this plan.


Posted by on May 20, 2010 in Crazy Talk, Introspection


Tags: ,

2 responses to “I Think I’m BiPolar…or something…

  1. MellyMoo

    May 20, 2010 at 1:40 pm

    OOOOHhh Randa I just love you! Parenting ISNT brain surgery and it is like a job! and I love the idea of you having tons of babies especially if they are as stinking wonderful as that boy of yours is now!!! and V is gonna have to eat it if she doesn’t like it! haha. oh and you are definatly related to all of us. we are all up and down and all over the damn place. you need to be happy i wasnt texting you my death wish plans last night…scary! thank god I dont own any weapons! haha. Love you sweetie!

  2. fracas

    May 23, 2010 at 9:37 pm

    I have to say that the toughest time for parenting doesn’t happen until they’re 13-20. There’s a reason for that joke about how the best birth control there is, is teenagers.

    Mine are 23, 20 and 14. When they were little, parenting was tiring… but not ‘hard’. Parenting teens *is* hard… in a very different way.

    I love your baby pictures, and I love that you posted those blanket-stuffing photos. ROFL.


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