Tag Archives: relationships

Remembering Is Important

11 May




Accusations Suck

27 Feb

I just can’t stand it anymore.

I’m about to star in my own episode of Oxygen’s Snapped!

I’ve met my share of people from the close-talkers to the sidelers who often take credit for your hard work. But the one that really burned me and ignited a true Costanza Serenity-Now moment this week was the I-Know-You-Did-It Person.


Serenity Now!

Serenity Now!


They never ask you anything, they just automatically know that you are the one that messed things up even if you weren’t in the room, it was you. They’re negative and they’re nasty. You really don’t even want to be acquaintances but for some reason your paths have to cross with one of these crappy people, either at work, school, your kid’s school, and sometimes even within your family get-togethers.

You broke the copy machine, you wasted the ink cartridge and didn’t replace it, you erased the project files, you made the computer crash, you lost the keys, you broke the blender, or you made me make a mistake.


The I-Know-You-Did-It Person knows you did it because they’re also the It-Couldn’t-Have-Been-Me person because they never do anything wrong.  Ever. And this is where the burn comes.

Being around people like that can be so frustrating. They zap out all the juice from your Duracels and you’re constantly trying to replace them just to get through the day.

I usually have to eat some chocolate just to get over the encounter, because it gets under my skin no matter what Zen-like techniques I try. And I think I get all Costanza-style because of the accusation itself. That’s what kills me. Feels more like the accusation is trying to say something about your character and the lack of respect they have for you. If they respected you they would have just asked, but instead they come at you with that hostility, forgetting that they’re the ones probably responsible, or perhaps it was the noodlehead they hired.

At the end of the day I rid myself of the encounter by finishing the rest of the Ben & Jerry’s pint of chocolate awesomeness and binge watching House of Cards. Francis Underwood helps. He wouldn’t take this crap. He’s too busy to ever have a problem like this. He’s got bigger ones and I always love to watch his mind work. Maybe he’ll inspire something.





My Radio Flyer Gets Lighter

3 Feb

I’ve been missing my Monday posts and for the most part it has nothing to do with the exciting adventurous existence of my not-so-glamorous life. It’s not so much because I’m doing something great or that I planned to shake things up a bit to appeal to Tuesday readers.


It’s that people are putting rocks in my wagon.


And it’s effecting my uphill climb.

I’d realized it a couple of weeks ago when it started happening more frequently. But I am now coming to the conclusion that I need to avoid people like this, because they’re just not helping the whole situation.

Let me explain …

According to comedian Steve Harvey everyone has a wagon. A little red wagon. A Radio Flyer that you pull up this ginormous hill called life. You got the rope. It’s your haul, you’re responsible for your wagon. Now along the climb you got people who decide to come with you on this journey and they get into your wagon.


The Climb

The Climb


After some time you realize that there are two types of people … the kind that help make this climb easier and the ones that are just extra weight dragging you down. The ones that help you are emptying out your wagon, letting you know of any obstacles coming your way, being a navigator and informing you know about storms, pushing it up while you pull, or getting off your wagon to brush away anything that might be on your road. Everyone on your wagon is doing something to help make the climb easier.

And then there are the others.

Whether it’s intentional or not, they have something in them that pulls you down. Some just sit on your wagon, contributing nothing positive. They’re just adding weight, like rocks. Then there are the others, who are filled with clouds of negativity and they make it rain on you. They don’t help with anything. In fact they just add to the struggle with their Debbie-Downer attitude, or hater mentality, which makes the journey more grueling.

And there you are … still pulling.

And pulling.

I realized … it’s time to stop the wagon and get rid of some rocks.

Here’s hoping your load gets lighter too.



Lowering Standards For Love … And Laughter

15 Jan

During this NightQuil-DayQuil-Theraflu-Homeopathic battle warring over by body, I’ve had random five minute breaks from the clutches of parenthood. And during these hazy, and yet lucid moments, I’ve come to the realization that there’s been an ongoing breach of my standards.

Standards that were ironclad pre-family, but now for some reason after two kids, these standards have loosened a bit and fallen into the “suggestions” category of life.

Whether I’m suffering flu-like symptoms or not certain things have come to pass in the Guat household, things that I would have never allowed in any other relationships. And being the die-hard Seinfeld fan that I am, I get all my life and relationship advice from Jerry and his gang. And during this cloudy period I realized that I’ve let these standards crumble simply because I love my kids.

I just do.

There’s no other rational response as to why I’ve accepted these socially blacklisted behaviors.


Just love.

And humor.

So if you find that you’ve tolerated more than one of the following behaviors, I’m afraid to tell you that there’s no coming back.

It’s part of parenthood.

The Close Talker. This is someone that has forgotten the definition of personal space and breaks all kinds of boundaries during a regular conversation. My son constantly has conversations with me about Legos, trains, books, Star Wars, or sandwiches … centimeters away from my face.


Close Talker


The Anti-Dentite. Normally I discourage the hatred or fear of any profession, but it appears both of my kids fall under the Anti-Dentite category. They don’t like dentists. They don’t want to see dentists. They don’t want to hear what dentists have to say. And a lollipop is not a big enough bribe.

Re-Gifter. My son is constantly re-gifting toys and books to give to his sister. Once he’s done playing with something he feels the need to turn around and give her the stuff as a gift. A poorly wrapped one, but nevertheless a gift. I’m amused by this one.


Tim Watlet re-gifts Elaine's present

Tim Watlet re-gifts Elaine’s present


The Pop-In. This is the person that visits someone unannounced and without warning. I find that my kids are always popping-in on me in the bathroom. This is not cool, but no matter how many times I tell them the rules, some sort of Nickelodeon Junior emergency transpires at this time.

The Double-Dipper. This is the person that re-dips their chip into the communal bowl multiple times … the whole re-dipping then feels like they’ve put their entire mouth in the dip. My kids tend to do this, their kids. They enjoy dip. But even when I serve them a plate with their own dip, they find the larger bowl more appealing than the dollop on their plate.


George double-dips and gets caught

George double-dips and gets caught

The Jimmy Legs. I like having my own bed. Space where I can sink into a deep sleep. However kids find their way to the Serta mattress and their legs begin to kick and smack me, like they’re having some sort of spasm, but in reality they’re probably dreaming of playing soccer or being ninjas.

Some of these infractions combined with a bad day usually elicit a Serenity Now moment and massive amounts of chocolate, but for the most part it’s laughter. That’s what love does.



I’m Sorry Goes A Long Way … I’m Just Saying.

5 Jan

It’s not something that comes easy for me.

In fact it’s probably one of the hardest things for me to do.


I trust people.

I take their word for it.

So when something gets broken it’s difficult to pick up the pieces, especially if I knew it was done intentionally. Accidents are easy to let go of, but things done on purpose … dude I’m no Nelson Mandela. And the thing is I have no problem apologizing if I’ve accidentally wronged or hurt someone. But I trip out on how hard it is for people to apologize. Even for the little things. It makes forgiveness so much easier for the other person, because in the end it’s all about the little things

I’m just saying.


So in an effort to begin spreading forgiveness, for letting the little things go, here are a few conversation starters …

For your wives/girlfriends …. I’m sorry about eating most of the Cinnamon Toast Crunch and then putting the box back into the pantry with like four squares left. Four squares don’t fill a bowl. And then … I didn’t wash the bowl. I didn’t even rinse it so that one lonely piece of Cinnamon Toast Crunch that was left over hardened as it attached itself to the bowl…which sat there until dinner time.

I’m sorry … I know exactly where the toilet paper is located but I fail to replace it every time it runs out, and if by miracle I do replenish it, I put it on top of of the old roll, balancing it just so it won’t fall off. I know that’s not its proper place but it’s so much easier to do and it takes a second, whereas doing it the proper way takes five.

I’m sorry … I just couldn’t get into The Bachelor … and no … the DVR didn’t malfunction and accidentally erased it.

For your husbands/dudes … I’m sorry I didn’t properly learn how to spot primo front-door parking at the bank, so I had to parallel park on the street and it took me at least 10 minutes over the allotted parallel parking time because I couldn’t get in at the right angle and this resulted in scratching the tire rim.

I’m sorry we had to go over to my mother’s when it was Sunday Night Football, and you missed an amazing playoff game by some guy named Manning, had I known her television was broken I would have let you know so you could have set the DVR and I would have promised not to listen to the news on the way home and let you know they won the game in overtime by something called a Hail Mary.

For your kids … I’m sorry that your blue and white princess dress … the one from Frozen … the one that Anna wore … the one that might have accidentally made it’s way into the laundry pile instead of the hand wash pile has now lost all the awesome princess glitter. It washed away, although some has found it’s way to your brother’s baseball socks, but you could wear the baseball socks if you wanted. On the bright side the dress no longer has chocolate stains on it.

I’m sorry … Disneyland wasn’t closed.

I’m sorry goes a long way … I’m just saying.

Figuring It Out

3 Nov



If you’re a positive person your first instinct leans more toward blessings. You’re optimistic and believe in the good nature of people. You wait until they reveal themselves before you judge. However sometimes your gut speaks to you and red flags are raised.

There are two sides.

Hopefully you figured out which one you’re looking at and you’ve got chocolate for either occasion.


I Totally Like Peaches …

22 Oct


Doc … I Think I Need A Consult

9 Jul

Dear Doc McStuffins,


The Doc is in.

I’ve heard you’ve cured everything.

The Pricklethorns. The No Vroom-Vroom-atosis. The Fall Apart-atude. Stuff-fully-osis. Weak-muscle-itis. Overheat-otis. Twisted tail-itis. Big Head-atosis. Forwards-Backwards Panic-itis.

My two-year old seems to think you’re a genius. She walks around trying to cure stuffed animals and Legos of their ailments. Apparently all you have to do is put it in the Big Book of Boo Boos and you’ve got the answer. In fifteen minutes you’ve got it.

I wish I lived in that dimension … you know the same time-space continuum that Jack Tripper, Janet Wood, Crissy Snow and Mr. Roper reside in and where all is well at the end of the day.

I know it’s Wednesday and that Geico Camel is extremely happy that it’s Hump Day, but I’m needing a little assistance in the cure department.

My Hour of Power in the morning rocked as it always does,  despite the three garbage trucks weaving in and out of a three block radius, polluting the atmosphere during my morning run. I was still able to come out with a positive outlook for the day. But then after a couple of hours I ran into them … you know … people suffering certain ailments that only you and your magic stethoscope and trusty hippopotamus  nurse could cure.

Now normally I could shake two or three off,  but I’ve seen a series of repeat offenders for the last four days and it’s burning me out.

I ran into people suffering from …

Rolling My Eyes syndrome. Foul Mouth-atosis. The Cranky-Wankies. The I can’t help you right now-atude. Debbie Downer syndrome. Inconsiderate-itis, which is a subset of The Selfish-Selfies. Jackass-osis. The it’s-you-not-me syndrome which eventually evolves to the I’m never wrong-itis flu, an epidemic in my family.

Yeah I saw them all today and desperately needed to go to a kick boxing gym to let my Jean Claude Van Damme out, because the meditation and chocolate was not working.

Doc … how do you cure stuff like this in fifteen minute increments?

Do you wear I-am-so-freakin’-awesome shirts everyday and listen to Pharrell Williams just to remind you that you’re awesome even when everyone around you is sucking the air out of your balloon?

Doc … I think I need a consult.

What you got?



You’re M.I.A.

21 Nov

Dear Perspective,

It seems that you’re missing. You’ve escaped me during my rage and apparently you’re needed.

A recent conversation has driven me over the edge and beyond the help of chocolate.

Yeah. I’m not having any Zen moments right now, I’m having red. I’m seeing red. I’m in red. Where do you go, anyway? Do you not know the importance of your presence? You help avoid the inner-dialogue conversations that lead to the self-help section at the Barnes & Noble.


Has someone ever said something to you that sparked a fire? Not so much the-I’m-going-to-get-off-my-ass fire, because you’ve already been off your ass and battling in the trenches. But a I-think-I-might-snap-right-now-and-jump-across-this-table-and-end-up-inspiring-an-episode-of-law-and-order kind of fire.

Yeah … those can be disastrous.

Sometimes people go too far and they know they’ve gone too far, but they don’t reel it in, they keep going because they’ve hit the point of no return. They said something and it’s already out there, already infecting my brain and creating feelings. As a chick, I remember stuff like that.

Perspective … I don’t know how to get you back. You’re M.I.A. Sleep is probably best for recovery mode. I hear that a lot. Drinking might not be the best idea because that may lead to drinking and dialing where circular logic runs rampant.

So now all I can think of is revenge. Not a I’m-going-to-get-you-back revenge, not I’m-going-to-say-something-hurtful-to-you type of revenge, but the I’m-gonna-make-you-eat-your-words type of revenge … a you’ll-regret-it type of revenge … a-I-should-have-never-said-that-to-her type of revenge … the I-made-it-in-spite-of-you type of revenge.

In Spanish … The Lero-Lero type of revenge.

In 80s … The Ha-Moded! type of revenge.

I can’t find you perspective so I’m all for that suggestion right now. It’s fueling me. If you come out of seclusion, maybe you could advise.


The Guat.

No Need For Flowers Guys … Just Say Something Nice

15 Nov


Image via TheThingsWeSay.com

Image via TheThingsWeSay.com