Tuesday, June 30, 2015

Holy Golf Balls!

Last night, my son had a lacrosse game. Nothing new there except that once we were at the field, we received a weather notification about a severe thunderstorm heading our way. Again, living where we do, this was not extraordinary news either. For the past 7 years (as of today), I have grappled with why people would choose to live here for many reasons, none the least of which is the extreme weather. Trust me, as soon as people discover I am from NY--my accent, it seems, gives me away every time--they cannot wait to bombard me with the reasons why they could never live in such a 'big, bad city.' But, I digress. So, we are at the field and my son is playing one heck of a game, when we hear a few rumbles of thunder. Long story short, the game gets called (did you know that goals made in such a game are not counted toward a player's stats? WTH) and we head for our cars. I am heading toward home with my son and daughter, while my husband has our other two boys in his car, when a few drops of water start falling on my newly washed car.  As if that is not bad enough for this neurotic car owner, the very next moment we hear what sounds like gun shots but in reality are golf ball sized hail cracking against my windshield and bouncing off my hood. Not only could I not see two feet in front of the car, but my daughter was having a panic attack in the back seat, my son was doing an amazing job of trying to calm her down and I was trying to hold myself together knowing that my not-yet-year old car was definitely getting damaged by this hail on steroids. Yes, I was also terrified that we are on the road during this crazy storm. I have never experienced anything like it before--the noise was deafening inside the car and there was no escaping it, no shelter at all. Being the fanatic about my car as I am (wash it more than once a week, no eating or drinking in it, clean the windows more than once a day...yep, a tad crazy), I was heartbroken to assess the damage this morning.

So, why the earlier digression about people not being able to understand how people could stand to live in NY? Because for me, living here is so much harder than anything I have ever had to deal with back home. Sure, it wasn't all rainbows and good times back there either but golf ball sized hail? Nope! The 'best' part is that the giant hail falls in the summer! Don't even get me started on the winter woes, the impossible road construction, the never ending building of housing developments (all looking exactly the same)--my list is endless.

As I sit here waiting for the refrigerator repairmen to arrive to fix our ice maker (on the 1.5 year old referring, mind you) along with waiting for the roofing contractor to choose a color for our new roof (courtesy a previous storm), I now need to add calling the insurance agent to my 'to do' list for the damage to our cars. Let's not forget helping my husband find that ever-elusive job.

Maybe I handled the storm all wrong last night.  Perhaps I should have jumped out of the car hoping to be knocked on the head by a piece of hail and maybe then I could have woken up to have all this craziness be just a dream (okay, a nightmare). That would be lovely.

Thursday, June 4, 2015

It Just Keeps On Going and Going...

Basically, I am not having fun and before you start thinking that I am in charge of my own destiny and that I should be making my own fun, stop right there.  I can prove that these thoughts are mistaken as I would so not be choosing 'this life' if I were the master of my destiny. Oh, not in the least. Please don't get me wrong, I have amazing children (at least I think so most of the time), a good husband and the fluffy dog I always dreamed of having when I was a child. I am grateful for them each and every day. I have the most selfless and wonderful parents, too. So what's the problem? Life has been handing us lemons for the past 5 years and I have dutifully been making lemonade out of them, however, the lemons won't stop coming and all this lemonade is giving me a sour stomach. My husband calls me his biggest cheerleader but I have been cheering for him to land a job (one that sticks instead of ends 6 or 10 or 12 months later) for so long now, that my pom poms have lost their fluff and luster. I have grown weary of the search and the rejection and all the ego bolstering I need to do because no matter how difficult this is for me, I know it is infinitely more difficult for him. I am mentally exhausted from 'dancing as fast as I can' so as to keep the children's lives happy, busy and fun--a 'faux-normal' so that they do not spend too much time stressed about our seemingly never-ending unemployment. Most importantly, I am beyond sick and tired of saying 'no' to them because we cannot afford to do things.  I feel especially guilty that their childhood has been plagued by our lack of finances and that their memories are colored by this year after year.  

Adding insult to injury and speaking to kicking someone when she is down, we have had no hot water since last night as it seems we have an issue with our newer water heater.  I have been up all night ruminating about the cost of getting it fixed but even more so, agonizing over what we will do if a part needs to be ordered and we will not have hot water for a few days. Could it be worse?  Of course, but it certainly could be a hell of a lot better, too.  Trust me, unless you are a Polar Plunge devotee, an ice cold shower in the morning does nothing to chill an angry mood.