…Which is not to say that today I washed, dried, or folded the laundry giving me dirty looks throughout my house, weeded the flowerbeds that might soon climb up the walls, windows and doors of my home like a horror film, or cleaned the floors and bathrooms that I’m curse under my breath countless times a day. No, I did none of those. However, I learned a few things today.
For instance,
1. Those awesome squeezable mayonnaise containers that boast “none left in the bottle” are not lying. Be careful how much you squeeze, because you can’t take the mayo out of the chicken salad as easily as you can put it in.
2. I really must remember not to make chicken salad, prepare two girlies’ lunches, eat my own delicious chicken salad pita lunch, and clean the kitchen between showering and drying/styling my hair. It’s a recipe for a bad hair day.
3. Flies are much easier to swat the day after they sneak in through the sliding glass door. They’re hungry and weak…and more susceptible to my ninja-like swatting abilities.
3. The word is out about $5 movies on Sunday at our local theater. Get there early.
4. Teach your children about the value of siblings. Tell them, openly, that one day, they will be the closest person they have left. Remind them that siblings are a gift to be treasured, not an inconvenience and a hassle to be tolerated.
5. Never take your children’s words too seriously. One minute, they will swear they hate each other, vow that they will never forgive or play together again, and proclaim that they wish that evil sister had never been born…and the next minute you will find them cozied up together, “teaching” each other to read, giggling and cooing at pictures of baby animals.
6. Last, but not least, I’m reminded today, once again, that life is a fragile and fleeting miracle. We have no guarantees. Tomorrow could be stolen from us far faster than my ninja skills steal it from dehydrated flies in my kitchen.
In all seriousness, I told my girlies today, “You’ll never know when you’ll never see someone again. Tell them you love them and treat them like a gift you cherish every day.”
And never, ever lose sight of that truth.
Thinking of Baby Amelia and my long lost friend, Jen, today. I love you both.
Today’s Girl Talk Thursday topic is heartbreaks. Such a touchy topic…
As you may have gathered from previous posts, I’ve had my share of boyfriends. Which is not to say that this is a point of pride for me…
I can remember riding in the car with my mother on the way to the mall; I was in high school. My heart was freshly wounded by Some Dumb Guy. A sappy love song came on the radio and began rubbing salt in my wound. I was trying to be brave and keep my mind off the hurt and lonely feeling that comes with breakups, but this blasted song was knocking me down brick by brick. I remember softly, reluctantly asking my mother, “Can you please change the station?” She respectfully agreed, and silently honored my request. I wonder what it was like to be My Mama in that moment. Was she thinking, “I hate seeing her like this?” or “Such a drama queen…”. (Probably some of both.)
I did not choose my boys wisely, to say the least. I’ve alluded to my own issues with self-esteem here before. Here’s the bottom line: I didn’t like myself very much, so I liked just about anyone who liked me. The truth hurts, but doesn’t make it any less true.
As you can imagine, with little to no standards for Qualifying Candidates, I got burned quite a bit. Looking back, it seems like most guys dumped me when they had another waiting in the wings. (Perhaps they were smarter than I give them credit for…) That fact, of course, made it so much harder to accept. The jealousy. The betrayal.
And then, there was one guy that really was a jerk. In his defense, he had no good role models. His parents had split when he was young, young, young. His mother lived on other side of the country and he didn’t know her AT ALL until his father, who spent a lifetime freely sharing his own twisted version of love with his sons, died. So, along came the boy. He liked me. So, I considered and (of course) agreed to a date. All was hunky-dory for a while. I, in keeping with my own traditions, began allowing my entire life to revolve around Dumb Guy of the Moment.
A smart enough person learns to see this as a source of control and power…and get used to it. Often, they decide to keep things moving along the path of their choice, regardless of your thoughts. Bottom line, I got hurt. It hurt before it was over. It hurt because I let it. I was too stupid to see that I was worth more than that. I didn’t have the courage or perspective to realize I would be happier and better off without him. I was scared and didn’t want to be alone.
Then, one day, it clicked. I was done. It was over. I had had enough. I shed my fair share of tears and wallowed in my sorrow with a few supportive friends, and then, as quickly as a baby falls asleep in their pureed peas, I flushed it. Like a faucet, I turned it off.
A few days later, I met my husband. He was supposed to be a rebound. I just wanted a distraction to help me launch myself down a new road. Turns out that road was a interstate with no end in sight. Funny how things work out.
All of this “woe is me, innocent victim” talk is not, of course to say that I didn’t do my fair share of burning, as well. I never maliciously intended to hurt, but misunderstandings happen and people change. Girls are stupid in high school, as are boys. And, hindsight is 20-20. As it turns out, some girls – some “friends” – have ulterior motives behind their “advice”.
“I feel so conflicted…I ‘love’ (because, when you’re young you think it’s love) So-And-So, but I kind of like Other Dude, too. I don’t know what to do…”
“Oh, you should go for it…you and So-And-So are growing apart. Follow your heart. Go for Other Dude. Here, why don’t I help you write the break-up note…”
A few days later, guess who’s comforting So-And-So? Oh, look! Now they’re a couple! As for me and Other Dude? Yeah. That one will live in infamy forever among my family as the one to whom I said, “This isn’t going to last long.” I don’t know if I said that to him, or just to my family. But, it’s true. I said it to someone.
As an adult, I’ve decided that heartbreaks come as a result of personal expectations. (Wish I could claim credit for this profound statement, but a co-worker taught me this.) We all have expectations for the people in our lives. We have expectations for who and what boyfriends/husbands/lovers/friends/family members are and how they should behave. These expectations, though, are rarely, if ever, explicitly discussed, they are often vastly different from one person to the next. We get hurt when people don’t meet our unspoken expectations.
I expected boys would care about my feelings.
I expected they might “love” me forever - because, to me, love is forever.
I expected that they would be honorable and do the right thing.
I expected they would tell me the truth.
I expected that my girlfriends had my best interest in mind.
I expected they were being honorable, too.
I expected that, should someone truly care about me, they would fight for me. They would come to me and say, “I don’t want to lose you.”
I expected wrong.
Even today, I live with heartbreak from time to time. Who doesn’t? My husband breaks my heart. My children break my heart. My friends break my heart. My family breaks my heart. That’s life.
What I’m learning is that I must adjust my expectations. The only person I can truly EXPECT anything from, is myself, because that is the only person I can – or want to - control. I must expect more from myself than I do from others. I’ve learned that, while I continue to open my heart to the loving people around me – who, like me, are just doing the best they can everyday, I need to give myself the unconditional love that I cannot always expect from others.
And that, my friends, is harder than it seems.
I don’t like that this has been such a depressing post. So, to share a “feel good” with you…check out this video. You’ll like it, I promise!
I found this draft sitting, unfinished, on my Blogger dashboard today. Let's give it a whirl, shall we?
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ November 7, 2009
As I blow the dust off my blog and reacquaint myself with my Blogger dashboard, I reflect on my life as of late. It would be very easy for me to rant and whine here...but that is not what I want my blog to become. So, I've been silent. I've been mothering my babies, problem-solving, and working my tail off. I've been turning over new leaves and looking into the future with fear-tinged hope. I've been reflecting on what is important in life, much like my fellow blogger and Tweep, Jenn.
Like many families recently, Jenn's family has been making changes. So has mine. Sometimes, life blows up in your face, you know? So, what do you do about it? The way I see it, like anything in life, you have two things to do: (1) deal with it, and (2) move on. I try not to get mad in life. I'm learning as I age that anger really doesn't do much for me....or you....or anyone. This is not to say, though, that if you hurt my baby or my doggie that I won't go all raging maniacal mother hen on you. Because I will. Hide and watch.But,what anger does do is waste energy and bring pain and suffering, mostly to the bearer. But that' s another post...
So, while FireDaddy and I try to catch up financially, and I try to get caught up mentally, and my girls try to get caught up physically (they've both been sick), and we as a family try to get caught up with our priorities, we're making changes. We're eating at home. We're playing in our yard and our park. We're using Netflix every week. And, I'm avoiding Target like the plague.
The holidays are quickly approaching, though. And the money just isn't going to be there. So, we're getting creative.
Yesterday, my girls and I spent the entire morning making Christmas cards. And, quite frankly, I think they're the best ever. They aren't finished yet (typical Mommy - I forgot some supplies at school), but I love them. No two are alike and many were made by the innocent hands of my babies. Even many of the ones from my hands alone, though, have a special meaning.
Since that weekend, I've been busy stitching and gluing and clipping Joann's and Michael's coupons like a mad woman. As with most things in my life, it's become a bit of an obsession. Etsy is an evil, evil place. ;)Its creativity haunts my mind and compels me to do, make, sew, create.
Have you ever realized that you - who you are - is really a lot of people rolled into one? There's the Main You - the one you take to work and the grocery store on a day-to-day basis, but there's also the Little You from your childhood that wants your mama when you're sick and misses home at the holidays. Inside ourselves, though, we all carry a rainbow of other "selves". I, for instance, have the Fashion Designer - a former fashion major who cringes at wearing the same outfit twice. The Interior Decorator who aspires to possess and wield my grandmother's flare for bold, courageous design, tempered by my mother's eye for designing with function, practicality and mass appeal in mind. The Starlette, who dreams still of soaking up the hot lights of the stage "when I grow up". The Girlie Girl, who looks forward to playing dress-up and turning cartwheels in the backyard with my girls. I love sharing my inner Auntie Mame each year as I dawn my glorious, glamorous black and white large-brimmed hat to watch the derbies in my den. And, of course, you know there's more...the Writer, the Artist, the Activist and Advocate. I am a Southern Belle, a Baby Mommy, and a Clutz.
The bottom line is, I guess my Blogger has taken a step to the side to allow my other selves a chance to see the light of day for a while. And it's been kind of nice. But, she's still here...and so am I.
This day actually snuck up on me, believe it or not.
Wow. What a month it has been.
I'm bitten by the nostalgia bug right now. I feel a bit as though I'm graduating from something. I'm filled with sentiment and a dash of emptiness. No regret, though. (Well, except for that one day that I crashed without posting. A day that will live in infamy...)
As I bid adieu to the month my "Beautiful September", and I look back on my list of posts, I have to ask myself what I've learned.
1. Writing is not a strength everyday. Just like everything else, there are good days and bad days.
2. I need "me" time. And, writing can be that.
3. Prioritizing makes anything happen.
4. It is possible to burn out on writing. But, it is only temporary.
5. Writing daily truly transforms your thinking. There is a little burner in your mind that never really stops simmering.
6. Some days I want to write just for me - for no one else to see. Whether I keep it tucked away in a spiral somewhere, rip it up, or burn it, somethings are just for me.
Even after NaBloPoMo, I continue to struggle with some thoughts. For instance,
1. I read a quote from an author months ago that said something to the effect of "the day I became a writer was the day I stopped writing for myself and started writing for my audience". I have been through phases of thinking, with this blog especially, in which I've agreed and disagreed with that quote. True - it is MY blog. But, what good is a blog without readers? It may as well be in my spiral beside my bed. False - if I think not of myself, I don't like my writing...and if I don't like it, who will?
2. And, depending on which way the pendulum is swinging on that particular day, what is the purpose of this blog? Is there one? Is it a useful tool or a guilty pleasure?
And, finally, I'm left with a decision to make.
Now what?
The neurotic part of me sees this month as a failure. I missed a day. I cannot truly congratulate myself on a month of daily posting. Do I dare attempt a perfect month in October? If not October, another month?
The rational side of me, though, sees it for what it is, recognizes the feat it has been to pull this off - even imperfectly - and looks forward to the relief that comes from NOT "having to" post daily. That side of me also hopes that, without the pressure to produce even without true inspiration, the quality of my posts will improve and be more consistent. Elements of my life have definitely taken a blow from the relative neglect (even my sleep) because of this little pet project.
The insecure and needy side of me worries that perhaps my readers - even the silent ones - will go away. There is a nice reward in knowing folks are reading, even if their face doesn't appear on the sidebar and their name doesn't pop up in my comments.
So, here it is, September 30th, and I stand before you with many questions and few answers. I can say, though, that it has been a great month.
I'd love to hear your thoughts on my Beautiful September. Even you, ghost readers.
That's all for now. I'll see you tomorrow for a little Girl Talk.
Today, I spent a few hours digging deep to the bottom of my desk. (In fact, I'm still not finished...it is clean, but it needs some redesign.) After such a time-consuming, pain in the rear activity, I would like to take a few moments to reflect on my discoveries.
Exhibit A:Please take a moment to enlarge this image, as needed, to fully appreciate the annotations before I continue.
Done?
Great. Here's what I'm thinking:
A) For someone who is decently tech savvy and digitalized, why, oh why, do I still have so many pens and pencils and pieces of paper cluttering up my life? (I know at first glance it may not appear that there is much paper clutter here, but remember - this picture was taken POST cleaning. I shredded two bags of paper today.) Furthermore, why do I still need so many CONTAINERS for paper?
I am moving forward, folks. (And have been for a matter of years now.) I am greening-up my life. I pay my bills ONLINE. I request as many bills and documents sent to me ONLINE as possible. (More companies need to offer this. I would love nothing more than to do away with our world's reliance on the USPS. With rare exceptions, I find it a bit of a nuisance.) I keep my family and work calendars ONLINE at iGoogle. I keep DIGITAL lesson plans. I receive more and more paperwork from my school DIGITALLY. Where is all this paper coming from?? And, HOW DO I STOP IT?
B) I have a love-hate relationship with pencil sharpeners. I do write with pencils quite often, actually, and LOVE LOVE LOVE the feeling (and appearance) of writing with a REALLY SHARP pencil. (It's part of my School Supply Sickness, but that's another post.) However, pencil sharpeners MAKE SUCH MESSES! I cannot stand the lead dust and crumbly pencil shavings that, inevitably, spill out of it. I suppose they are a necessary evil. (Because mechanical pencils, while they are neat in their own right, just aren't the same to me.)
C) I am very sentimental. Notice the "love notes" attached to my monitor? They've been there for MONTHS. They're just little post-it notes Big Girl snuck in and left for me. How can I get rid of these? Also, the little craft project...it's actually a combination of two craft projects. We're talking high quality work, folks. Popsicle sticks, digital pics (of my baby) printed on regular paper (no photo paper quality work) and cut in the shape of a flower with little strips of tissue paper sticking out everywhere, crammed inside a tee-niny little bitty wooden flower pot (with playdoh to keep it stuck). I cannot get rid of this! You are heartless (and not a parent) if you tell me I should.
D) I HATE CDs. And their cases. This box is only one portion (I think) of the software CDs, photo CDs and various other (don't know what they are) CDs I have for the computer. They are dust collectors. What should I do with them? Those little CD album thingies are cute, until you outgrow them and need another. Then you're just collecting notebooks of CDs instead of boxes of CDs. Help! I want to purge!
Finally...
E) I have too much stuff. There. I said it. I'd love to sell the house and get a condo so we would FORCE ourselves to GET RID OF STUFF. In the end -- it's just stuff. You can't take it with you, right? What's important is my family, my children, my memories, and anything I can store digitally.
