Last year, I sat on my couch wearing an ass groove into the cushions and going through the motions of the holidays while counting down the moments until it was all done. The only reason that I didn’t stay in bed entirely was because I had small children to care for and, well, they don’t give a shit how miserable and depressed you are, which is kind of the beauty of kids.
It was really out of the norm for me, someone who normally celebrates the magic of the season like a small annoying child, but I was very, very pregnant and on the tail end of a shit year. My friend had died in February, I’d suffered two miscarriages in April and May and while I’d gotten pregnant again in June, it seemed sort of uncertain for awhile.
August through October brought about The Daver’s Nervous Breakdown where he could barely get out of bed, which left me wondering how the hell I was going to support our family without selling pictures of my pregnant self for cash. By December, I was just done. I felt like a heaping pile of dog ass that peed herself when she moved, and really, there was no Christmas spirit to be had by me. I’d weep onto the top of Alex’s head as I rocked him to sleep at night, while my daughter kicked him from within and I’d wonder what I was going to do.
Obviously, January didn’t bring much better news. My daughter was born so sick and even after her surgery, things were so scary for so long. It took me so long to recover from all of that.
What’s shocking to me as I read back through the archives is that there’s not a whole lot of mention of this. Likely, I didn’t know quite what TO say, so I simply said nothing. Because I had no real concrete reasons to focus on and work through to be able to say “Hey Internet RIGHT THERE is why I’m so miserable” I just said nothing.
The skies didn’t really start to clear up for me until a couple of months ago when the PPD and the PTSD and all of those other fancy acronyms began to fade somewhat and in their place I realized what I had to do.
In all of these years, I’ve raised my crotch parasites and pushed them from my nether regions and paced and rocked and bounced and swaddled. And I’ve Wifed, by pushing Dave to succeed at a job that really, he does love and encouraged and listened and pretended to understand when he spoke in what may have been ancient Finnish and keeping the house running and organized and somewhat clean.
But what I’ve neglected all of this time was me.
Your Aunt Becky has been missing from this equation and this life. In all of the time that I’ve been Becky, Wifey of The Daver and Moooooommmmmyyyy of Benner, Alex (not Alexander–his declaration, not mine) and Mimi, Your Aunt Becky has been sorely neglected.
When I realized what I was going to do with the rest of my life–freelance, for those of you not playing along at home–or at least until I decide to actually inhabit my new house and become Lady of the House (Princess Grace Of Monaco) it was like I was finally seeing things as they are for the first time in years. I can be all of those things to my family and Your Aunt Becky too.
So this year, while my house is only haphazardly decorated for the holidays, it’s for a very different reason. I’m busily throwing myself into doing something for myself. Like my homie Pashmina has suggested, 2010 is going to be the year of ME (although, I think she means that it’s going to be the year of HER, because if she was taking a whole year to celebrate ME, well, I think that would be so awesome that I don’t even know how I would handle that. HEY PASHMINA, CELEBRATE ME! And, uh, BUY ME STUFF.).
2010 is going to be the year Aunt Becky Gets Her Groove Back. And hopefully, her fucking figure too.
I’m not sure how I’m going to keep you guys informed of what other projects I’m doing without ramming it down your throats, so any suggestions are appreciated. Maybe links at the bottom of posts like I do with my Toy With Me columns?
In that vein, I’ve started this: my boring professional website. It’s not done. OBVIOUSLY. It’s lopsided, but the picture plug-in is busted and I need The Daver to fix it. I’ve got some other things that I’m getting started on, but so far, nothing that I’m actually able to be all LOOKIT INTERNET, SEE WHAT I DID?
And come January, I’m going to incorporate and form a small company that will likely generate about $1 in income all year long. But because I need to keep my dollar separate from DAVE’S dollars, I need a company. Which means that I need a name. For a company. I’ll probably GO BY “Mommy Wants Vodka” but on the paperwork, I need something more professional.
All I’ve got so far is “Vodka Bandits.”
Also, how do YOU keep your groove, The Internet?