These are my Confessions

We need to start this off with your mind in the same space as mine, so if you didn’t instantly hear Usher, Confessions Part II, in your mind when you read my title, please click on the link to get that sweet voice singing in your ears so we can be on the same page here.  Although, to be clear this isn’t some sort of illegitimate child/baby daddy pop up out of the blue situation.  The perk of being a woman, anything that comes out of my baby makin canal I am fully aware of.

So, These Are MY Confessions….

Every morning, right after Rick leaves for work, I sneak downstairs just so I can have alone time on the couch watching my own stupid TV shows, which is usually something from BRAVO or the show, Riverdale or a NETFLIX show that is clearly meant for teenagers yet I get sucked in and realize how old I am because I vow never to allow Brooke to watch this trash that is secretly turning me on so I have to justify my arousal by knowing these actors, even though portraying high schoolers, are in fact in their late twenties/early thirties with incredible bone structures and impossible fat to muscle body ratios.  I know this may hardly seem like a confession to you, aside from my embarrassing choice of entertainment, but to me it is.  I could be using that early morning alone time to meditate or exercise.  I could use that time to better map out my day, or do some laundry; my point is just about anything would be more productive than vegging out on the couch on the quietest setting my tv will go praying to God it won’t wake up my children.

Just when I thought I said all that I could say…

I have found a way to connect with my son that is completely risky and I fully aware I am towing a dangerous line.  We are bonding over completely ridiculous humor.  First, let me tell you, I have had a rough 6 months with my pre-teen.  He turns 13 in September, and puberty is in full swing.  I get so much sarcasm from him that I think the amount of times I give him the finger behind his back is at an inappropriate level!  Trying to get him to do his e-learning makes me want to start day drinking.   He was trying to do his science homework, but to be clear trying isn’t the right word… hmmm what is the right way to phrase this, he was trying to use some sort of magic or Jedi mind trick to will his homework done.  I was getting questions about what this or that was, while I was trying to get my own work done, UGH!  Can you just please read your own shit???  I took a deep breath, paused what I was doing, and focused all my attention on him.  “Okay buddy, show me what you are working on.”  His response was to just put his computer in front of my face and say, “this!”  I told him, like I have done countless times, that ‘I am not doing your work for you’, so I proceeded to read the assignment to him.  He was in and out of paying attention until I read the word, “sac-like membrane” My eyes widened and I turned to look at him and all we had to do was make eye contact and we burst into laughs.  (And, yes, Beavis and Butthead were going through my mind, hee hee sac ha ha ha she said sac.)  The thing we have in common right now is our pre-pubescent sense of humor!  Next I read to him about a band of filaments creating the “cleavage furrow”  BAAHAAAHAA!  The next day we had to cut out cells, and there were small cells all over the table with little metal balls taped to the back to demonstrate the division of the cells.  Brooke was trying to irritate Ricky so she was messing with them, so I told her to stop playing with Ricky’s balls.  At the time, I truly was beyond frustrated with their bickering, and that’s how it came out because she was annoying the crap out of me, but the minute the words left my mouth, Ricky was laughing so hard and I was right there with him. 

Damn near cried when I got that phone call…

Now I am going to take a serious note with you, and let you know a big confession… When shelter in place started I had a significant (at least to me) health scare.  I found a lump under my arm.  I was able to get to the doctor before shelter in place was enacted.  She told me it was either a lymphatic infection, or it could be an indicator something was going on in my breast, such as cancer, and draining into the lymph node under my arm.  WHAT THE FUCK?  FIrst, those are pretty significant differences, so let’s get this figured out!  I was surprised her response was to prescribe me an antibiotic, and give it a week to see what happens.  If it doesn’t respond to the antibiotic, she will send me for an ultrasound.  Well, two days into the antibiotic the shit hit the fan and the shelter in place order was given.  A week goes by and the lump has not gone down.  It was sore, and I had found another lump in my breast.  HOLY FUCK I HAVE BREAST CANCER.  That was every waking thought of mine.  I have cancer, this is it, the big C word.  I called the doctor and we had a phone appointment.  She felt it was not high risk enough to go for an ultrasound due to the likely exposure to COVID, so she decided a high dose antibiotic was the best course of action and to give it another week.  I was taking a horse pill twice a day for a week.  I would wake up just rubbing my breast and not in the fun way I do sometimes during my early morning alone time, but in a way that I thought somehow my boob would be able to communicate with my hand to let my mind know exactly what was going on with my body.  The worst part of this situation was how stuck and trapped I felt.  I couldn’t leave my house.  I didn’t have any reprieve from the constant stress of not knowing what was happening.  Also, the completely frustrating fact that there was a simple solution, ultrasound, but they weren’t sending anyone to the hospital that wasn’t completely VITAL due to the corona situation and me and my lumpy pit and breast was not considered vital.  Well, after a week of stress and pills the size of a toe, my lumps went down.  It was a lymphatic infection and it went away.  Now my sweet tatas are once again a source of pleasure and not pain, but holy shitballs was that a scary few weeks!

If I’m gonna tell it then I’m gonna tell it all…

I feel so guilty for saying this, but I am beyond happy that spring lacrosse and dance have been canceled.  I am an asshole, but NOT having to be at lacrosse practice during the week and giving up my entire weekend for 3 games or a whole tournament, is absolutely amazing.  I know it is a disappointment for some, but my COVID weekends have been filled with me cooking elaborate, some successful/some not, dinners.  We go for walks as a family, and we play, “don’t drop the baby,” which is a ball game that Brooke showed us.  Rick and I don’t get stressed out about finding the right field to go to, or dividing up responsibilities between Brooke’s dance, and Ricky’s Lacrosse.  Not to mention Brooke’s dance, which is an exhausting schedule on its own.  Its in our basement now, but pre-COVID, that would be 3 days a week I wait in the parking lot for her to be done.  We don’t get home until 9pm!  It’s exhausting!  Other parents are posting about sadness over their lost seasons, but inside I’m doing a happy dance.  

Man I’m thrown, I don’t know what I’m gonna do… 

Probably keep wearing leggings and re-reading the Twilight series while having fantasies that Rick is a vampire and we are in a forbidden kind of love, just living my best shelter in place life.


Colleen Lieberstein

Colleen Lieberstein, Executive Administrative Assistant, is the heartbeat at two award winning and fastest growing companies in the Chicagoland area. She lives in New Lenox with her two energetic kids, and her supportive husband. Colleen loves to read, play with her children, and go on adventures with her family. Exploring new places and eating new foods is the best.