Yesterday, I just had myself a big ole pity party.

I don’t talk about work on here, but I will say this: there is NOTHING more frustrating than being graded on something you have (MAYBE) 15% control over.  When you initiate the basic process, and yet you’re held accountable.. by, say, 200 people .. for the total performance of that process or system?  It’s incredibly frustrating.  And demeaning.  And stressful.  And defeating.  And after working for fourteen hours yesterday trying to counteract that, I was just DONE.

Then, I headed to rehearsal.  God, I needed rehearsal.

And I’m one of those really obnoxious, chronically optimistic people, who is like, “Yeah, I had a really shitty day, but it’s a gorgeous sunset outside!”  You know, like the pink and purple ribbons in the sky are going to make all of the bad stuff go away.  And I feel stupid even saying stuff like that, but really?  It’s all I have to get me by.

That, and the lady at Steak-Out liked my hair.  See?  BAD DAY, ERASED. (heh.)

So I get to rehearsal and, SERIOUSLY, for about an hour I laughed till I cried.  Such funny, funny people in my cast and I know next to none of them well at all.  Come to think of it, this is my first show with almost the entire cast.  That rarely happens in community theatre.  It was a nice way to kind of let the bad stuff go and just relax.

And, in all honesty, be good at something for just a little bit of time.

I realized last night that I need theatre because I consider myself good at it.  I mean, I am relatively a dime a dozen in community theatre; a semi-talented female in her late twenties that can play a decent ingenue.  I think I have a few qualities that put me a small notch above some: I don’t shy away from physicality, like running entire flights of stairs to belt out a high E or galloping over benches on a moving carousel while 10 weeks pregnant; I have decent comedic timing; and I have really good hair. (The lady at Steak-Out said so.)

And then, last night, when I so needed to just be good at something, to just be successful, and to NOT be a stalwart, I SUCKED.  I stopped my entire scene because of something I was scared to do.

I don’t get scared.  Ever.  I’ve never backed down from ANYTHING onstage.

And I was (and am) so mad at myself for it.  For letting fear win, for doubting myself at something I’ve always been good at.  For stopping a scene.  For causing my scene partner to lose his momentum.  For being a diva.

And then, it was suddenly a thing.  It was a tech issue, a safety issue, and really?  It wasn’t.  I was just being scared and weak, and after practicing just five minutes, I was fine and I should’ve just known that from the get-go and stopped my whining.  I’ve done harder than that.  I’ve been raised better than that.  I don’t, nor should I ever, need that coddling.

I hated myself last night.  Eighteen hours of failing.  At everything I attempted.

The looks, the glares, the disappointment.  It ate away at me.

Still does.

I’ll be the first to admit I’m not the most sunny, positive person on the planet. (See Also: 10 Months of Pregnancy)

But there is one phenomenon circling the interwebs and I JUST CAN’T STAND IT: the FML thing.

For those not in the know, “FML” is an abbreviation for Fuck My Life.  I’ll let that sink in.

In my head, and it’s a fantastical whimsical place to be, there is just VERY LITTLE that is worth such a declaration.  It just is so overly dramatic and, dare I say it, EMO that it makes my head explode.  Especially when it’s something incredibly small, like, “My check-engine light is on.  FML.” 

I was talking to Bryan about this during our Sonic commerical pillow-talk last night.

Me: I just can’t stand it.  I mean, there are people who REALLY do deserve that phrase.  There are people, say, who .. I dunno .. lost their child that day or something!

Bryan: Yeah!  Like in a WalMart!

Me: .. um .. no, I meant ..

Bryan: Damn irresponsible parents, losing their kids at WalMart.

Me: .. yes.  Yes, damn them.

I just think that there are so many things in life that we are so fortunate to have, and to toss it all aside with an FML is so callous and ungrateful.  And while I try to not be a holier than thou person, I CANNOT HELP BUT ROLL MY EYES SO HARD WHEN PEOPLE SAY IT.  There is just nothing so horrible that I would consider saying it. 

That’s my rant for the day.

Don’t forget that we go live at Southern Fried Snark tonight at 9:00 CST!  We’d love for you to join us!

(Formally referred to as #2 on this post.)

First, the preface: if you’re new here, I am a stepmother.  We are INCREDIBLY fortunate to have a very good relationship with Jack’s BioMom, and we adore his stepfather.  I understand what a walking-on-eggshells thing stepparenting can be for many families, but we are beyond lucky to have an open communication line where the differences between households is nothing that is insurmountable.  Really, I can’t say enough about how much this working-together relationship benefits everyone, most of all Jack.

Now.

One difference between the two families is the level of honesty used with the kids.  And that is really nothing that I can judge, because one man’s trash is another man’s stepparenting and whatnot, so there ya go.  But.. I just..

Jack’s stepfather recently became unemployed.  In today’s economic environment, this is nothing unusual or unique, sadly.  But.. we’re not telling Jack.  We’re keeping him from this bit of “stress”, because we don’t want him to get “stressed out”.

.. well, we totally differ here.

Here’s why: unemployment, especially the kind beyond the employee’s control, is part of life.  It’s a necessary evil, and it’s something we all must realize is a reality.  And?  Jack’s stepfather is not sitting at home and collecting severance; he’s out doing temporary work, busting his ass so his family can enjoy the holiday.  That kind of tenacity and sacrifice?  Deserves acknowledgement, even from the children.

And I think Jack needs to be part of the tightening of the belt.  We already warned him that Santa’s offerings at our house are going to be much slimmer this year, due to our new spending budget.  We’ve told him that eating out may not happen much, if at all.  We’ve warned him that we’re going to be spending more time doing free things, and that he’s welcome to offer up suggestions to help us.  He has.  He’s the first to say, “Let’s go to the park!” or “How about we visit the YMCA this afternoon?”.  I feel that we’re enabling him this way; sure, the family is making an effort that may squeeze a bit, but he can HELP.  This way, it’s not torture.. it’s a family endeavor, one that he’s a part of.

And?  I feel like I’m lying to him by not talking about what’s going on at his house.  There have been many times when Jack and I are by ourselves and talking as friends and he can tell me things openly that he may hesitates to tell his parents.  I want to tell him how proud I am of his stepfather for manning up to take care of his family; I want to tell him that this happens to people sometimes, regardless of how well they’ve performed.  And I want to take this opportunity to explain how a good savings fund comes in useful at times like these.

Again, I know that we’re all different in how we rear our children.  Have you faced a similar circumstance in your family?  How have you broached the topic with your kids, or have you at all?  I really am open to all sorts of discussion here; I think it may be one of those things that I can’t possibly fathom until it takes place under my own roof.

And … GO.