“See, there was this trampoline…”
That’s what he said to me, when I learned Hot Nerd would be coming home from his “boys trip” early- with a torn ACL in his knee, and a broken ankle. I picked up my broken man from the airport with our nap-less toddler in the backseat, and we headed straight to the orthopedic specialist. Then the next day MRI, and a follow up appointment.
Yes, there will be surgery, but not for a few weeks.
Then there will be rehab.
The doctor estimates full functionality in his leg in about one year.
For now, he is completely off his right leg. I drive him to work, and pick him up. I help him get his clothes in the morning, and I try my damnedest to keep Bam Bam from jumping all over him, begging for daddy to pick him up. We haven’t figured out yet what to do about his classes, as he is also going to grad school.
I also have work to do on Sundays, and I very much enjoy leaving the house to go do it. We have no family nearby, and I can’t leave our son with Hot Nerd, as he is completely incapable of caring for him right now.
It seems to me, that the big bowling ball of life just keeps knocking us over.
2010 has not been good to us. If you’re a regular reader here, then you know what I mean.
And this is going to be unbelievably difficult for us. A couple days ago, I truly didn’t know what to do, how we were going to function, and how I personally was going to cope.
I actually felt so overwhelmed, I thought I might pick up random objects and start smashing things. I didn’t know what to do with all the anger and frustration.
And smacking Hot Nerd on the back of the head for taking this trip in the first place, would’ve made me feel better for only a second.
Looking up at the sky, shaking my fist, and screaming “Why God??” never really helped me before, so I skipped it this time.
Then, I had an epiphany…
at my local grocery store.
I was there to pick up Vicodin, some milk, and a few things for dinner. It was already eight o’clock, because I had to feed my son, put him to bed, and get Hot Nerd settled onto the couch before I could leave the house.
I was hungry…
and tired from not sleeping the night before.
And there was a big pile of pudding on the floor in one of the aisles.
Yup, vanilla pudding. Someone had knocked it over, or dropped it – I don’t know. But I stepped over it on my way to the milk.
Then, another woman walked briskly by me. She seemed deep in thought, and for a brief second I thought, “She doesn’t know about the pudding. What if she steps in it?”. I actually took a breath to tell her about it, but then… didn’t. I guess I was just too exhausted, in a hurry, didn’t want to bother her, etc.
She stepped right in it.
And she slid.
And she fell…
hard.
She was physically alright, but looked horrified.
I cannot explain the overwhelming guilt I felt at that moment.
It would’ve taken me all of two seconds to point out the pudding.
It’s not that I’m not a nice person. It’s that I was too involved with my own shit at that moment.
Okay, I’m also a little scared of human interaction at times. Because even when you’re nice, it involves sharing space with someone for a second, and what if they’re not nice back, or they ARE and extremely chatty?
I was out for myself at that moment. I wanted to get what I needed, and get home as fast as I could.
In truth, being nice sometimes makes me uncomfortable…
because I’m afraid the person (the world) won’t appreciate it.
And honestly, sometimes they don’t. Sometimes when you’re kind to someone, they almost can’t believe it. It’s uncomfortable for them too.
I have an extreme sense of self preservation, which a lot of times conflicts with being self-less.
And being kind- truly kind to someone, means giving up something. It could be your time, effort, money, objects, your words… something. And the thought of “giving up” more than I already have… makes me uncomfortable.
“My life blows, why should I be nice to you?”
I am selfish.
I decided in the car on the way home that it needed to change.
Because that is how I am going to get through this current challenge. It’s going to take a lot of sacrifice, and I’m gonna fucking be kind about it! Or I’m really gonna try. I’m gonna give until it feels extremely unpleasant.
Because we’ve made it through tough times before. We’ve picked ourselves up by the boot straps, we’ve focused on the future, we’ve told ourselves it’s only gonna get better, and we’ve tried tried tried so hard to seal ourselves off from any more “bad”….
and I’m kinda tired.
The only thing I haven’t tried, is that for every bad, hard, challenge life throws at me…
to turn around and BE KIND.
To throw kindness in it’s mother f*cking face.
I am declaring myself to be… in a state of UNCOMFORTABLE KINDNESS.
That means with my family… and with strangers.
I’m going to start practicing random acts of kindness.
I started off by driving home, giving my husband lots of kisses, and pretending to not be able to open a jar, so he could feel useful.
Okay, so that didn’t make me feel uncomfortable at all, and I probably would’ve done that regardless of any epiphany- but you gotta start somewhere.
And tomorrow, I’m sure there will be plenty of opportunity to make myself uncomfortable.
PS- To the lady at the grocery store:
I’m very sorry I didn’t tell you about the pudding.
Wow. First of all, my mother jokingly told me a few weeks ago that there's a moratorium on good news for 2010–our family has been through some heinous crap this year, as well, and it just keeps piling on.
So, every word in this post rang true to me, from your annoyance at Hot Nerd to the useless "Why Me?" shouts to the feeling that the universe is out to get you to the discomfort with talking to strangers (I'm pathetic about confrontations, be they friendly or full of animosity). It's like you're in my head. And you've inspired me to make the same choice, to devote myself to Uncomfortable Kindness rather than sink into frustrated dispair and useless complaining. Since it appears that this shit is just going to keep on happening anyway, we might as well put on our Superwoman capes and commence to being awesome.
You rock. I have a feeling we would have really liked each other if we'd ever met in person through our tangle of mutual friends
Agreed, my love.
Agreed.
I completely and totally understand what you mean when you say, "In truth, being nice sometimes makes me uncomfortable…"
I was extremely bullied in middle school and high school and it led me to kind of be afraid of people. That fear leads to me being mean, because I have to protect myself right? Because people are horrible for no reason right? Right, and wrong.
A few days ago I realized I was turning into the same kind of person as those kids who followed me home from school everyday, who spit in my food, who tripped me in the hallways, who started rumors and didn't care about what they said and how it might hurt me.
I wont be that person anymore either.
I wish you so much strength and will be here in my corner of the world cheering you on.
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My corner will be sending your corner lots of love…
Huh. I decided on that recently too. Our life went to shizz about January 2008 professionally and financially – we are happy and have happy kids…my job sucks, my hubby has had setbacks and dang it it is hurting us!
Then one day someone bought my Starbucks ahead of me in the drive through.
That was my epiphany – and I keep trying to be nice and positive – but it is so hard and too darn easy to scream at the other drivers while I am trying to get home.
All a work in progress.
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Love the Starbucks thing. What's best about that one is, you drive away with no thank you.
That's kind.
Wow you (and your partner!) are really going through a lot now and I appreciate how deep and heartfelt this post is. What’s important is that you’ve taken this on as a challenge and a learning journey which is really the best way to appreciate this rollercoaster life of ours.
Thanks so much for your sweet feedbck on my SITs day. And Hot Nerd? Fab nickname. Wish you guys all the best.
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OK. First. My husband broke his heel being a total assclown, but leaving him casted, booted and on crutches. Ergo, leaving me to do all of my work, the kid work and fetch his pain pills [a few of which I totally pocketed]. So – I know how it feels to have to do it all. And then some. I empathize with you!
Second, Good On ya for changing your tune, woman! It just has to be that way. I was in survival mode for most of the month of August. Smile and wave, kids – Momma’s still alive! Today!
So, that said, I’ll be expecting my random act of kindness in the mail, do you need my address?
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I do need your address.
Expect a big box with airholes… and crutches on the side.
Address will be e-mailed, but if you add the crutches, I’ll hunt you down and beat you with them. Twice.
My recent post Friday FLIP off 9-10-10
Totally get it. I’m almost too tired to care about my own pudding right now…
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Wow, I have been out of bed about 1 hour and I keep reading things about the importance of kindness, seriously – it is a theme of today – glad you are on it, so sorry about Hot Nerd – Cowboy broke his wrist earlier in the year and I know what its like from YOUR perspective as much as we sort of, pity them… anyway – here is some added motivation re: your kindness binge, read it this morning, somewhere:
“It is one of the most beautiful compensations of this life that no man can sincerely try to help another without helping himself.”
To help yourself you must help others. The quickest way to succeed is to genuinely help as many people as you can. Bill Gates has helped billions, which explains why he has billions.
How many people are you helping? You will only be compensated in this lifetime for helping others
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Well I give you alot of credit for taking accountability.
However, cut yourself some slack. You have a lot of shit on your mind, and really, that lady could have looked where she was walking. I'm not saying she deserved to slip, but you don't deserve to feel like shit for that.
Hope everything works out.
Oh man. So many things to say. This just sux. I'll simply comment that several years ago, I took my normally extremely responsible self to Vegas for a friend's bachelorette party for a very good friend…and on the first day, I dislocated my knee so badly that it required MAJOR surgery. A year, major surgery, ten months of rehab, and several months with a private yoga instructor later, I could (mostly) walk like a human again.
Hang in there, girl. As much as it sucks to be the broken one (who is broken as a result of…whatever…) I suspect it sucks more to be the whole one. And unrelated, but semi-funny, my 3.5 year old called vanilla pudding "white applesauce" today (in T@rget).
My recent post ‘Cause this little gem is too special not to share
Perhaps I shall start calling it that too! Sounds much cuter, and I now have an aversion to \”pudding\”.
Scarred for life…
I totally hear what you’re saying about not wanting that interaction. Sometimes you get a weird look, like you’re messing with them, or like you said, you get the lady who will not be quiet! But when I do get that small interaction that’s just right. It makes me smile all day.
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With all you have on your plate at the moment, I think you can be forgiven one "pudding alert" delay
I mean, seriously, it's not like you DROPPED the pudding yourself and then laid in wait. I'm pretty sure that's the difference between a psycho and a mom who's just tired and overwhelmed and whose reaction time is a little slow. We'll call that the "pudding test." I'm pretty sure I would have failed that particular test a couple of times this past summer — if I could have chosen who would walk by and slip in the pudding. Oops, there I go, "over-sharing" again!
I'm so glad I found your blog. Your hilarious POV on motherhood is just what I needed this morning
Thanks to you and the laughs I got here, I am now going to put the pudding back in the fridge …
Oh I like that… the "pudding test".
awww big hugs to you. i am now following you from SITS! i can totally relate to your story…the boy at my house, went to play flag football with a bunch of 35 year old mean a few years back. my last words out of my mouth as we ran out the door: DONT GET HURT. um, we were leaving for a florida vacay the very next day. yes. the next day. imagine how i felt when not even an hour later the phone rings and it’s him telling me he ‘tore’ something. not. a. happy. girl. (yes, i was feeling selfish at that second. how dare he ruin our vacation????)…..and i told him that. not nice of me. BUT….luckily for him, it did not need surgery. we still vacationed. half ass. no runs on the beaches, no long walks. he hobble around with an ice pack literally taped to his leg for that whole week. ugh. (AND, this was the second time he tore something playing flag football. um, maybe call me crazy, but 35 year old men probably should not try to act like they ARE 21!!! have a great day~i hope that the rest of 2010 gets better. i will definitely be stopping by to read! xo
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Hey, I’m visiting from SITS Sunday shout-out! I really like your writing! Great blog!
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This is a fantastic post. Can I borrow “uncomfortable kindness”? It’s such a beautiful concept, and says more to Westerners in particular than the Buddhist “lovingkindness.” That reminder that being kind is not always natural or easy, and like exercise there will be some discomfort if there is to be any growth, is important.
Ditto on HotNerd being an excellent nickname, btw. Looking forward to more of your posts.
Only if you use it like this:
\”uncomfortable kindness, as coined by the fantabulous MommyNaniBooboo- being of wondorous light.\”
It is so hard to be selfless. I think that is one of my biggest struggles too. I want to be loving and kind to others but get caught up in the everday things and stressors and lose sight of it all.
Well, just wanted to say Hi and great blog!
I found you through BlogHer.
Tina http://www.faithfitnessfun.com
It's okay that you didn't tell her about the pudding. You were clearly overwhelmed by life. You are very articulate. I particularly loved this line:
"I was there to pick up Vicodin, some milk, and a few things for dinner. "
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I have been in that situation before as well. The problem is, I usually err on the side of pointing out the pudding (or whatever) and the other person acts like I am the biggest idiot in the world for telling them. It’s almost one of those darned if you do or don’t situations.
But at least you didn’t fall in the pudding. That’s something, right?
And I’m so sorry about the knee. There is nothing in this world worse than an injured man.
Just another incident of proof of the evilness that is pudding . . oh yeah. It’s extra hard in the parent/spouse/lifeboat as well because the easy way out would be to just numb yourself to the experience via a multitude of escapes. Much harder to process the whole thing, keep going on in a conscientious and involved fashion – while giving yourself the chance to learn, grow, etc. when life will let you. Hat’s off and keep sharing, plz.
you know what it was for me? One day I said hello to a parking lot attendant. He told me I was the first person to soeak to him all day. I try to be kind, but I fall short so often. And 2008-2009 SUCKED SO MUCH ASS that it was hard to find any kindness for others since the world seemed to be ripping off my head and crapping down my throat daily.
Then my friends sent my son tons of Christmas presents because we couldn't afford to buy them. They sent my husband and I some too…but "Santa" showered Max with tons of presents and that was a real slap in the face to me that there is kindness in the world, even if it's nearly imposible to see some times.
Anyway I am sorry for all the suckitude lately and I am sure the pudding lady had it coming.
You just know she did.
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Reaching back, way back into the 80′s even, I find that my heart is aching for my old friend.
And yet, as you always do, you figured it out on your own. I see so much of you, now and then (even way back then) in your post. Still You. But remember, you are loved and deeply appreciated, by many people, even if they don’t tell you.
But they should.
And it’s not just you. It’s Everywhere these days, I encounter one “My life blows” situation, after another in almost everyone I know. It’s a sign of the times I am afraid. Can’t think of many it hasn’t touched, in one way or another. And I don’t have to tell you that one woman’s hard time is another ones picnic … it’s all relative. (Continued … )
I hope I can impose on you, just for a minute, maybe two. You see, I got my own "Fuck You" from life 3 years ago when I was diagnosed with a terminal illness. Newly separated from my soon to be ex-husband, who had cheated on me with a good friend of mine, I was swimming in the piranha rich waters of divorce attorneys, and drowning, quite literally. My 5 year old was just starting school as I was moving my ailing, quadriplegic mother in to my new apartment (since we had to “split” up the house in the divorce) where I was facing the uncertain future of caring for a child and a parent without a support system or safety net … in a city I hated. It was just then that I too slipped in the pudding, so to speak. And even if there was someone to see it coming, it would have knocked me on my ass either way. I will save you the pity-party-drama, and all the ugly details that play like a car accident you can't take your eyes off of, even though you know it's so impolite and rude to stare.
But the long and short of it is that I basically sank to the bottom of a deep and dark pit. Rock bottom if you will, and figured that I was as low as I could possibly get, then sank lower. Not pretty. But one day, a random act of kindness bestowed upon a foul mouthed, bitter, angry, caustic and extremely frightened and lost shell of your former childhood friend, put everything back in perspective. A nurse, whom I put through hell on earth, who had NO reason to give a flying fuck for me, did what no other person could have done, although many tried;
She reminded me that I was still alive. Alive and not dead yet. And that I had something to do … something to offer before I tossed in the towel. She did this while she quickly brushed my hair and swiped makeup on my face so that when my daughter arrived, I wouldn’t look like death warmed over. And then, when my beautiful little girl came flying in, she told her that her mom was the bravest woman she knew.
And I cried, something that I had not allowed myself to do since they day my marriage fell apart a year before. I cried like a baby. And then I bucked up, pulled up my boot straps and figuratively slapped myself in the face a few times and reclaimed my completely fucked up life. The lesson I learned is;
No matter how crappy I feel or how bad things are, being a total bitch might temporality feel good, but at the end of the day, things will still be just as crappy … and bitchier. The clichés ring true, I catch more flies with honey and a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down, wait … okay that’s a show tune, but you get the point. Sometime, it is easier to make it through a tough time if we put on that brave face and give back to others an ounce of what we so wish could be given to us.
So, head up young person, this too shall pass. And if I could will a North Shore theatre camping trip, and all of the old people who used to build you up, I would. Love you girl.
I know that you are strong enough, and honest enough, to allow your kindness to be tempered with fear and selfishness when needed. And if you do feel like passing the proverbial pudding by, give me a call, we can slip in it together!
Beautiful words- thank you, friend.
My most favorite part being, of course, that you called me \”young person\”.
My heart thanks you.
PS- you are absolutely extraordinary.