The Funk

Do you ever just have those days? When I say days I mean days not day. You feel the snowball teetering at the edge of the hill and then BAM some little a-hole comes from behind and knocks it right over? You start freaking out about everything on your plate rather than focusing on just the mashed potatoes and gravy? All your responsibilities come to the forefront and you’re a panic attack away from crying as you stroll down the aisles at the grocery store? Oh wait, both happened. If you get what I'm saying then you too have experienced The Funk. It's serious biz.

When you lose your “person”, you know, the one that gets all your quirks; thinks you’re cute when you’re really not, finds your personality funny not abrasive and provides a soft spot to land when things get hard - it is a daunting task to deal with life alone. (At least at the time you think it is) Sprinkle a little PMS on top of that chaotic cupcake of a sitch and forget about it. You might as well lock me in a dark closet (naked) with reptiles, amphibians and such.

Perhaps The Funk decided to nestle in when I saw my brother in ICU (he’s thankfully on the way to recovery so no worries) or seeing my mom go through her child being in ICU. It was like a Hallmark commercial in my head when I left the hospital. I started thinking of when we were little and how much I loved him and wanted to take care of him. When he cried, I cried. When he got in trouble, I got in trouble so he wasn’t alone – or because I was that stupid. Yeah, I was probably that stupid. “I don’t know who kicked the ball through the window mom and dad. I think the whale people (overly obese neighbors) stole our ball and did it”. It’s a true story. I called them the whale people and that my friends is why I struggle with my weight. Karma’s a bitch. At any rate let’s get back on track. It’s the golden rule we break every day: Seeing someone you love in pain, sick and helpless and the reality of taking their presence in your life for granted. Hand delivered invitation for The Funk to come on inside. This bout of The Funk could have easily been brought on by the self inflicted broken nose which brought along two blacks eyes for back up. It’s a toss up really. Either way the feeling of not being able to handle things sucks...and it lingers...The Funk.

As I felt it creeping up and noticing how worried my mom was over my 32 year old bigger, younger brother it suddenly dawned on me that my job as a parent never expires. Not that I want it to but damn. I think I have problems now. Little kids=little problems. Big kids=BIG problems. During the most recent Funk I found myself feeling sorry for my kids when I tucked them in at night. Just the fear of being alone and raising them on my own basically. I’m still raising myself. How am I going to do this? What will become of them? What if something happens to them? What if something happens to me and I’m not here to take care of them? When they get older will I be stoic like my mother who has been through hell and back these past several months? Why aren't things the way they're supposed to be? Time is going by too fast. How am I already in my late 30's? Where did time go? I want to go back to the simpler times when I rocked my babies to sleep and was a pizza slinging fool. I should never be left unattended. I Ike Turnered myself.  I still need my mommy!

You feel the panic at the disco of life setting in? When The Funk and paranoia finally set up housekeeping all through me I naturally go on a comfort seeking binge. Bike rides with my kids, going to the library-because that’s what normal people do, Body Combat, day drinking with friends, spending time with those same friends and laughing/dancing it out, candy, frosting, cheez-its, and then of course church (shocking, I know) – in that order. None of it seems to help. No offense Jesus. I try to make my problems yours as you tell us to but my requests must be going straight to your voicemail as well. 

Then alas…I come to my senses and watch Bridesmaids. WTF?! Why didn’t I think of this earlier in the week? Why didn’t I remember this magical trick from the last snowball incident?  Who can’t talk themseleves off a cliff and recover from The Funk with a little Lady St. Patzwa y’all?! A couple of hours spent with my favorite make believe girls and I’m staring at myself in the mirror saying “Carol! Get your $#&* together Carol!”  Done and done. Funk-don’t let the door hit ya on the ass on your way out! A few deep breaths and we’re all better. I say “we’re” because let’s be real - there’s a few of us leasing space up in this noggin. The kids are going to be A-o.k. with me as their mom. I’m going to be able to make pancakes in the morning AND do my hair; maybe even match. I've got this alone although it gets a little hairy at times. No soft spot needed - just good friends - the real kind, family and my healthy, beautiful kids. Whew. All is good in the Hernanskey Hood. Catcha on the flip side Stove.  

86 Big Mama’s Advice:

If you haven’t seen Bridesmaids stop everything you’re doing and watch it. I don’t care if you’re at work. If you don’t find it funny the first time, watch it until you do – what are you? An appliance?

Note to Self:

Remember when you were 7 and leaving K-Mart with your mom hoping to God none of your friends saw you coming out of the land of the blue light special thinking to yourself "I CANNOT wait until I'm adult"? That was dumb.

Tell Sweet Jesus you're just kidding. You know he's getting your messages or at least your mom's...or your Nanny's...or your Nanny's friend's...or the neighbor lady's...or your friend Cicely's...or your friend Rachella's. Your life is awesome sauce. If you don't think so just turn on the news. Focus on the mashed potatoes and gravy.