Hi, my name is Jennie B and I am
(Photo courtesy of www.AnneTaintor.com)
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This is the badge that I wore (not so proudly) Sunday afternoon. A simple Sunday afternoon where I was going to: A- purchase a baby shower gift & B- purchase ingredients then cook a broccoli cheese casserole. Neither was accomplished, however I did manage to launch myself into the worst anxiety attack I’ve ever had.
You see, I’ve never wanted a baby of my own. Babies make me nervous. That’s just me. And because of that, some people tend to think I’m abnormal. Whaaaat?!? You don’t like babies?!?! What’s WRONG with YOUUUUU??? Is the reaction I get most of the time.
As for cooking, we had family dinners every night since I can remember, but I never payed attention and learned. When I say I don’t know how to cook, it’s Whaaaat?!? You don’t know how too COOK??? But you’re a girl, aren’t you?!? How do you expect to get or keep a man if you don’t know how to cook???? (that last one always makes me laugh…..because THAT’s the real reason anyone learns how to cook, right?!?) So you can see where my two tasks to accomplish get a little iffy…
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Fast forward to Sunday, I’m in the store and I can’t find the crib aquarium I always buy. Add in about 7 adults ( male and female ) telling me what I should get and why I should get it and how I need to know this if I plan on getting preggers (one woman went as far and put her hand on my stomach which is just NOT ok what so ever) and what’s wrong with me for not knowing when this stuff when I’m 26, then add on 3 kids running around pushing buttons, making noise, yelling and all I wanted was my Fisher Price Crib Aquarium that I buy for every person who invites me to a baby shower but there was not one anywhere to be seen.
I ran out of the store rather quickly. I could feel myself getting worked up, heart pumping faster, hands shaking, having trouble breathing…the works. It’s not fun. I just wanted to get out of there before I screamed at the top of my lungs and cried right there in the store.
I drove to the next store. (which I probably should not have done) All I need to do is find my ingredients then go home and make my casserole. Simple enough, right? WRONG! I froze. Couldn’t remember where anything in the grocery was, wondered the isles up and down like it was my first time being in a grocery, got to the rice isle and broke down. There’s SO MANY friggin kinds of rice and my recipe didn’t say which kind and I had NO IDEA what kind to get and it’s just stupid, friggin RICE. I started crying again. A nice associate walked up to me asking me if I was ok, if I needed help and if I’d like to come up to the front of the store and sit down for a bit……Great. That’s all I needed was some store associate trying to Dr. Phil me. Thanks but I like to have my breakdowns on my own time and where I chose to have them. That was rather nice of him, though.
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Needless to say I changed my casserole to tacos, got my stuff & got the hell out of dodge. I knew better than to try driving home at this point so I called my Momma (because after all I am the fruit of her womb and apparently she sent out a bad apple) and cried to her on the phone in my car for a good 20 minutes.
Two things that to most seem so simple and easy terrified me to no end and I had no idea why I was reacting like I was. Was I really not normal?? Am I missing some womanly microchip that knows how to deal with babies and cooking? Am I really a rotten apple?? Maybe all those people were right…maybe there IS something wrong with me.
These are the questions that were running through my mind the entire time this incident was taking place. After a while I started to finally calm down as my Momma reassured me that I was not a bad apple…. but maybe I just wasn’t completely ripe yet and there’s nothing wrong with me. (Yes, I already knew that but sometimes it helps to hear other people tell you!) Add in a few humorous stories about my Momma and my Sister and I was good to go. (finally – it had been a long afternoon!)
And so while that badge may be exactly correct on some days, for the most part I’m a bit more Domestically Challenged rather than Disabled..but I’m learning. One step at a time, I’m learning. But at least I know that on the days I’m more disabled than challenged it’s ok. Even if I break down into an anxiety attack, it’s ok.
It’s a process.. but isn’t everything sometimes..
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