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REMINDER: My March of Dimes Giveaway/Raffle for Maddie is down to the last few days! Join in!

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Ever since I was a child, I have hated to ask for things. Even the smallest things. When people hear I’m an only child, they often say, “Oh I bet you were spoiled.” I won’t go off on all the reasons why this pisses me off – but basically, it has to do with a) judging me based on something that means nothing, b) way to be rude, asshole, c) you don’t know me so shut the fuck up, d) god, I’m so sick of stereotyping, and e) not knowing the meaning of spoiled. It’s the “e” that relates to what I have to say today.

I had a good life. I had toys and clothes and things and stuff. But to me, having things does not mean you’re spoiled. Not wanting for things (and believe me, I wanted) doesn’t mean you’re spoiled. To me, being spoiled is demanding things and getting them. And I never demanded. I rarely even asked.

I would want something and hope and wish and dream and occasionally hint, but I hated to ask. I can remember being very young (maybe 5 or 6) and picking up my grandma at work (Montgomery Wards “Buffeteria”) and dying for a donut from the donut case. I would hope that my Grammy or Gramps would read my mind and offer me one. I would look longingly at that case. And even though I knew they would give me a dozen if they knew I wanted it, I would never, ever ask. Not once.

I don’t know why asking for things was so hard for me. I can remember – as an older child – not wanting to inconvenience anyone, or worrying that giving me what I wanted would cause someone financial problems. But I felt this way even before I knew anything about finances and inconveniences, so it’s just something in my personality, I suppose.

And I imagine you are saying, well, it’s hard to ask for stuff. No, It’s not hard for me. It’s painful. I feel sick. I cry involuntarily. I hate myself. It’s like a little piece of me shrivels up and dies every time I have to ask for something.

I hate asking for things, I hate asking for help, and I hate depending on people for anything. And yet, depend on people, I do.

Three days a week, I drop my kids off at my parents in the morning, and they get them off to school and daycare. My girlfriend brings the boy home from afternoon band practice. Two of my friends often stop by to pick up the boy in the mornings when I am home, so I don’t have to drag the girl out. My aunt takes the kids to the gym when I can’t. If I have to work late, I call my dad or aunt. I hate it. I hate it with a passion, but I have to do it.

Every year, my company changes hours in the summers. We work an extra hour on Mondays-Thursdays and work ½ days on Fridays. So in the summers, I have to have my dad and aunt get the kids from daycare every day. Last year, my girlfriend pitched in, too. I hated it.

And when I say I hate it, I don’t mean to imply that I don’t appreciate the help – I do. I don’t know how to repay these people who I depend on. But God I hate depending on them.

Mr b and I rarely go out, because I hate to ask anyone to babysit. We don’t know any teens that sit, so it falls on family. And my family does enough. The thought of asking a friend makes my heart race and makes me feel sick to my stomach. So we don’t go.

So this week, I am extra stressed out.

First off, the daycare won’t be open Friday, meaning that I either have to ask my dad to keep the girl (I didn’t have to because he already told me he won’t be around). Everyone else works, so I am stuck. Sure, I didn’t have to ask anyone to watch her, but I have to ask my work to either take the day off or work from home. I don’t want to take the day off, since I need to hang on to my vacation days, but at the same time, I worry that working from home will be perceived as taking advantage of the company (and I would never, ever want to do that because I love Awesome Company). I hate it.

And then Friday night mr b and I have tickets to see Buddy Guy. Which means I have to ask someone to keep the kids. I hate it.

And summer hours are coming up and I will have to ask/depend on other people to get the kids for me almost every day. I hate it.

And kindergarten registration is next week and – of course – is during working hours (which – IMG I am so sick of the assumption that there is a mom at home to take care of stuff), which means asking to work from home that day, too. I hate it.

And then there’s pre-school “graduation” coming up. And a doctor’s appointment for the boy. And several kid-related events in the summer. And vacations. All requiring asking for days off/working from home/help with childcare/etc. I hate it.

And then finally the boy came home with his summer band practice schedule yesterday and when I saw that there will be mandatory practice all summer, Monday through Thursday from 8:00 – 10:30 am, I cried. I actually broke down and cried. Because, again, with the responsibility.

I need help. And I hate it.

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About sugarmag

Forty-sdjhfkjsdhfkjsdh year old mom of 2 - a 18 year old boy and a 11 year old girl. I love them very much, but they drive me crazy. I'm married and work full-time. I'm not sure which of these is the most exhausting, but probably the husband. I'm opinionated. I'm outspoken. I'm loud. I'm an over-sharer. I think Tom Cruise is a jackass. I like to say jackass. I like to swear, period. Fuckers. I love to read. I struggle with my weight. I love my job. I dress my pets up and ridicule them regularly. I am not afraid to cut my hair and I don't understand people who are. I hate getting old. I love to laugh. Make me laugh, OK?

6 responses »

  1. I’m not too good about asking for help either. My husband claims that I’m a control freak. But I think that I worry about asking for too much or “inconveniencing” someone. Your story about not asking for a doughnut was heartbreaking in a way. A little girl suffering along even though all she had to do is ask. My kids have no problem asking for a treat! Some days I wish they held back with the requests 🙂 I enjoyed dropping by your blog today. Take care!

  2. I’m right there with you, lady. I hate having to need help, to ask for help, or have anyone go out of their way for me. I should be able to do it myself, and if I cannot, it isn’t worth doing. My father taught me this and while I hated him for it at the time, I greatly appreciate now that what he was trying to impose was respect for others. Respect to the point of insanity, but respect all the same. Good luck…

  3. Yep, hate it too but gotta do it or we go INSANE. I am so glad my kids are out of school now as I really knew I would never make it, but somehow we did. We all have to do it, so get busy and ask. Do it all in one big callathon to everyone who helps, go throw up, blow your nose, drink a shot, and have a good weekend!Sending moral support is all I can do, but just know it’s there..

  4. I’m with you on hating to ask for help – and saying no. But I’m not in the same league as you. This sounds much more painful than anything I can imagine. Can you get help? And I don’t mean with watching the kids. You’ve got a ton going on!

  5. Honestly, I can so relate to this. Because I HATE, despise, abhor, asking for shit, too. For me I think it’s a self-esteem issue and I just assume people really don’t want to help me deep down, but they do it out of some obligation. And it makes me sad. And it also makes me uncomfortable. I am just uncomfortable with gratitude. When I get a gift, even for my birthday or Christmas, I feel uncomfortable. I mean I LOVE it but also the gratitude makes me queasy. I especially get upset when I have nothing to offer in return. My self-esteem issues make it really hard for me to believe that people actually care enough about to WANT to help out in times of need. I don’t know if that’s your issue or not, you don’t really address why you hate it in the post (or maybe I missed that part). I suspect that the people in your life really don’t mind helping you out, and I’m certain you are the type of person who is there for others in times of need. I mean you just did a contest for the March of Dimes in Maddie’s memory. You are a giving, helpful person. Having kids necessitates asking for help ALL the time and it does suck. That old adage, “It takes a Village to raise a child” is so very true. (And for what it’s worth I would never assume you were spoiled because you were an only child. That is just a ridiculous stereotype. Like you commented to me today, People can be fuckers).

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