In my thirteen years as a parent, I have learned some things. I have learned I don't know everything. I've learned there are many solutions to one problem. I have learned you never give dairy to a kid with a sour stomach no matter how much they cry for it. I have learned you never get white carpet. Most of all I have learned what unconditional love really is and that children are little people not dolls you can control. I have learned you must not only teach them with words, but with actions. YOUR ACTIONS when you don't even think they are listening or looking. I have learned that my thoughts, feelings, actions, decisions, etc are ultimately going to be mirrored at some point in their lives and I want them to think, feel, act, and make choices that lead them to a healthier and happier life. I have also learned that everyone makes mistakes, but they are worthless unless you can accept them, learn from them, and move forward doing something differently in the future. So, in that light I offer you a test. This is a test to show you if you are ready to be a parent. This is a test that should be completed before you even think about having sex by both partners. This is a test I will someday soon be giving to my 13 year old son so he can hopefully understand that his decisions will not only affect him, his partner, any future offspring, me, our entire family and the world. This is a test to show him we are all connected and we all need to be responsible for our choices.
Here is the test.
1) You are going to the bathroom and you finish the last of the toilet paper roll. Do you replace it with a new roll of toilet paper and put it on the toilet paper roll holder every time?
2) Have you ever not left a tip at a restaurant?
3) Have you ever told another parent they need to do something differently with their child that was misbehaving or after the unruly child left complained about that behavior to the people you were with?
4)Have you ever read a book to a child or babysat children?
5)Does it bother you to have the same song repeated over and over or watch the same commercial five times during the show you are watching?
6)Do you vomit if you see another person vomit?
7)Has someone close to you died and how did you cope with that death?
8)Can you work 24 hours straight for little to no reward?
9)Would you give up everything you own to send another person to college?
10)What do you think being a parent means?
These seem like very trivial questions, but they are not.
Numbers 1 and 2 rate your level of selfishness. If you have ever done these things it shows you are clearly not ready for parenting. You know very well the next person that uses the toilet is going to be left with crap on their hands so to speak and I don't care how crappy a waitress/waiter was those people go home with a negative check after taxes. Even if they got your order wrong, the food was crappy and the mood was generally poor that is one night you didn't have to cook or clean dishes. I would pay ten dollars not to have to cook or clean dishes any night and if you are a parent you would too.
Number 3 rates you on your expectations of parenthood. If you answered yes, you are no where near ready to be a parent! Nothing could be more personal or earth shattering as a parent to hear someone else tell them they are doing something wrong simply because their child has misbehaved in public where they know they can probably get away with it. It also shows how incredibly unrealistic your expectations of your parenting skills will be and boy are you in for a horrible terrible two's.
Number 4. It amazes me that the first time some parents realize they are actually going to be responsible for the daily care of a child is when the baby comes out. Hello? What are you thinking? Take some parenting classes. Even drivers have to take driver's ed to and a learning permit before they get behind the wheel of a car?? Babysit some friends' kids and see if this is really something you want to do. If at the end of the few hours you are totally exhausted and running for the door, chances are you should re-think becoming a parent right now.
Number 5. Infants, kids, teens need and want routine even though they will fight you endlessly not to have it. They want to watch the same Dora the Explorer episode or Barney episode or any other show that makes your skin crawl a million times and they want you to watch it with them. They want the same stuffed animal and if you can't find it good luck sleeping for the next year. Also, unless you are blessed with the gift like selective OCD the routine of parenting can get very boring. Infants, kids and teens need structure and consistency even if they fight you tooth and nail. A small thing like Daylight Savings Time can mess your family up like using salt for sugar. If you can't follow a routine or if you are so rigid you have to have the exact same routine all the time, you might want to skip on parenting.
Number 6. Let's face it, babies puke, spit up, projectile vomit like the Exorcist and kids puke all the time too. If you can't handle being puked on, peed on, shit on and by on I mean in your face, then you need to get a job as a daycare provider and work through your fear before you become a parent. If you can hold a baby in one arm that has crap coming down his leg out of his diaper and watch your two year old puke on the clothes you just laid out on your bed to wear and still have a good day, congrats you are ready to be a parent. For those of you that think I am insane and must have bought cheep diapers please re-read number 3.
Number 7. It is a harsh reality, but even in this day and age children die every day. Some of my best friends have lost their children tragically and it has broken their families into so many pieces. If you have never experienced the death of a close loved one (not that it compares in any way to the loss of a child) you are not ready for parenthood.
Number 8. Parenting is the most thankless tiring and rewarding job you will ever do, but IT IS A JOB!! It is a 24/7 never ending job. It will never end until you die period. The rewards are elusive and if you think you are going to get a thank you for dragging your butt out of bed to get your teenager that has just been caught drinking at an underage party, you are sadly mistaken. If you think infants thank you for anything you are wrong. They eat, sleep, poop over and over and over. They are blessedly cute, but they don't every say thank you. If you think your job is hard and nobody appreciates you, try doing it for free and see how long your want that job. That is parenthood.
Number 9. The reality of this is we are a nation that is firmly in debt. Most of that debt is student loans. You need to think long and hard about how long you want your adult child living with you or long and hard about how you are going to help them afford to go to college, because it may mean a second mortgage on your house.
Number 10. This is the most telling of all. If the testee can write more than one sentence on something they know nothing about, they are not ready to be a parent. You will never be ready for this responsibility no matter how much you think you know about parenting. If they write anything all they fail and they need to really think long and hard about being a parent.
Of course nobody will do this, but I am going to give this test to my sons when they are appropriate. I wish someone had done this for me. I was not ready, but I have learned a lot.
Friday, March 15, 2013
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Does The Line Start Here?
In the ever changing world of a divorced parent issues abound and crisis can erupt at any moment. The stress is like perpetually waiting to go on the roller coaster when you don't really even want to ride, getting on and finding out it wasn't as bad as you expected or that it was worse, possibly puking and finally the ride is over and the inattentive park attendant directs you to the back of the line to wait until the next ride. For a year now my children have both complained they did not want to go to their Dad's. Several occasions they have refused or manipulated their way into staying home. It affects their health, school work, our time together. Over the past year my attitude regarding their father and the situation that has unfolded with his new partner and her five children, has steadily festered into what it is today. As much as I try to explain to my children that their father loves his new family and he is trying, my words are just sounding flat. The truth is I can't pretend it is okay any more than my children can accept they just have to go, because he is their Dad. Why should they have to accept that his choices are making it impossible for them to spend any time with him? When does he have to realize that what they want matters too? How long do I have to listen to them cry, because they don't feel like they have a father anymore? Where do I draw the line? Do I allow them to draw it?
I have talked to my ex-husband on several occasions and listened to him give me a laundry list of the things he has chosen to take on with his new family. I have expressed my concerns that his children do not feel like a priority to him, repeatedly. After every conversation, I tell both boys to give their Dad a chance to make some changes. The last time we spoke was about two weeks ago. It seems to me the only change that the boys reported was they were now allowed to bring their electronic devices to his house. After I pleaded with my ex-husband to spend more time with his two children, he allows them to play on their iPad and Kindle the whole weekend. He sat on the sidelines and the boys had zero interaction with him alone the entire weekend. While the boys liked finally having something to do, they both are tired of waiting for their Dad to wake up and listen to their requests for more time alone with him. Since my oldest is 13 and my youngest is 10 and they are both active in their own activities, I don't see it getting any easier for him to schedule around his other step-children. Where is the line?
I remember vividly when I decided to stop visitations with my biological father. I was 13 years old, just starting to develop and wear makeup which he hated with a passion. To my Dad, I was still six with a big mouth. Looking back, my father was such a weak individual. He was drug addicted, high school educated, never had any self-worth, and looked at me as the only good thing he had ever done in his whole life (he actually told me that all the time). I looked at my Dad very differently after I turned 13. I started working as a babysitter so I had a little of my own money and a little more freedom. I had lots of friends and junior high was a blast. Not only did I not have anything in common with him, but I simply had better things to do. I really didn't have much to do with my mother or my step-father at that point, but giving up an entire weekend to be with a depressed, drug addicted, scruffy looking biker? I really just told him honestly that I didn't want to see him anymore. I wanted him to stop smoking pot, get a real job, stop being a biker and stop taking me to weird biker hangouts to buy drugs that made me feel incredibly unsafe. I wanted him to grow up and be a role model for me. I also told him (a little later into my 20's) that he was teaching me exactly what NOT to do, for which I am grateful. Most of my parental influences have taught me what I don't want in my life, however that isn't good enough. As a parent, I want to show my boys what is possible if you do the right things and have some dreams you follow. I want to show them that everyone makes mistakes, but if you learn from them LOOK at what you can achieve! I want them to be proud of me, not feel sorry for me or even worse hate me. Most of all I want them to always feel like I listen to them and love them no matter what they choose.
For some time I have been in line watching my children ride the roller coaster. Sending them off to their Dad's and waiting for them to come home. I have figured out I don't have ride. I don't have to feel all the pain they feel and be angry like them, but I legally still have to send them and wait. I have also tried not to color their opinions about their Dad with mine, but how do you tell your children that it is okay if they don't have their own room, their own clothes, that they have no say about where they go or if they even spend a whole day with their Dad, that if their step-mom has a blow up to just try and go to a neutral corner because the one person who should defend them sides with her? I was lucky and my biological father let me off his roller coaster ride. He allowed me to make the choice many times and I can't tell you how much I agonized over that choice. I tried to tell my ex-husband that just because the boys make that choice right now doesn't mean his circumstances might not change or their tolerance level will increase and they will change their mind, but he isn't going to go on the ride without them. He refuses to let them take a break, so they are now making excuses like they are sick or seeing how far he will go to keep them. They conned him into letting them bring over their electronics this time, but I have a feeling the next weekend they will be told that the electronics are not allowed since there is no three hour car ride happening. He promises them outrageous things like cruises and cars when they come of age. I feel like at some point the roller coaster is headed for a treacherous derailment with no way to warn them. Is there no closed for repairs sign? Doesn't he see the warning signs?
I had both boys answer some written questions about how they felt about the divorce and each place they live before I talked to their Dad the last time. I felt they were honest and it drilled home to me the reality that both of them really just like to complain, but when it comes down to the wire they were doing okay. I feel that for them they still want to ride, just not all the time. I think that is pretty typical of life. Rides are fun sometimes, drama is exciting sometimes, stress is inevitable, but when it is all you do, see and live....you want to change it. I think it's time I got out of line and take the kids home.
I have talked to my ex-husband on several occasions and listened to him give me a laundry list of the things he has chosen to take on with his new family. I have expressed my concerns that his children do not feel like a priority to him, repeatedly. After every conversation, I tell both boys to give their Dad a chance to make some changes. The last time we spoke was about two weeks ago. It seems to me the only change that the boys reported was they were now allowed to bring their electronic devices to his house. After I pleaded with my ex-husband to spend more time with his two children, he allows them to play on their iPad and Kindle the whole weekend. He sat on the sidelines and the boys had zero interaction with him alone the entire weekend. While the boys liked finally having something to do, they both are tired of waiting for their Dad to wake up and listen to their requests for more time alone with him. Since my oldest is 13 and my youngest is 10 and they are both active in their own activities, I don't see it getting any easier for him to schedule around his other step-children. Where is the line?
I remember vividly when I decided to stop visitations with my biological father. I was 13 years old, just starting to develop and wear makeup which he hated with a passion. To my Dad, I was still six with a big mouth. Looking back, my father was such a weak individual. He was drug addicted, high school educated, never had any self-worth, and looked at me as the only good thing he had ever done in his whole life (he actually told me that all the time). I looked at my Dad very differently after I turned 13. I started working as a babysitter so I had a little of my own money and a little more freedom. I had lots of friends and junior high was a blast. Not only did I not have anything in common with him, but I simply had better things to do. I really didn't have much to do with my mother or my step-father at that point, but giving up an entire weekend to be with a depressed, drug addicted, scruffy looking biker? I really just told him honestly that I didn't want to see him anymore. I wanted him to stop smoking pot, get a real job, stop being a biker and stop taking me to weird biker hangouts to buy drugs that made me feel incredibly unsafe. I wanted him to grow up and be a role model for me. I also told him (a little later into my 20's) that he was teaching me exactly what NOT to do, for which I am grateful. Most of my parental influences have taught me what I don't want in my life, however that isn't good enough. As a parent, I want to show my boys what is possible if you do the right things and have some dreams you follow. I want to show them that everyone makes mistakes, but if you learn from them LOOK at what you can achieve! I want them to be proud of me, not feel sorry for me or even worse hate me. Most of all I want them to always feel like I listen to them and love them no matter what they choose.
For some time I have been in line watching my children ride the roller coaster. Sending them off to their Dad's and waiting for them to come home. I have figured out I don't have ride. I don't have to feel all the pain they feel and be angry like them, but I legally still have to send them and wait. I have also tried not to color their opinions about their Dad with mine, but how do you tell your children that it is okay if they don't have their own room, their own clothes, that they have no say about where they go or if they even spend a whole day with their Dad, that if their step-mom has a blow up to just try and go to a neutral corner because the one person who should defend them sides with her? I was lucky and my biological father let me off his roller coaster ride. He allowed me to make the choice many times and I can't tell you how much I agonized over that choice. I tried to tell my ex-husband that just because the boys make that choice right now doesn't mean his circumstances might not change or their tolerance level will increase and they will change their mind, but he isn't going to go on the ride without them. He refuses to let them take a break, so they are now making excuses like they are sick or seeing how far he will go to keep them. They conned him into letting them bring over their electronics this time, but I have a feeling the next weekend they will be told that the electronics are not allowed since there is no three hour car ride happening. He promises them outrageous things like cruises and cars when they come of age. I feel like at some point the roller coaster is headed for a treacherous derailment with no way to warn them. Is there no closed for repairs sign? Doesn't he see the warning signs?
I had both boys answer some written questions about how they felt about the divorce and each place they live before I talked to their Dad the last time. I felt they were honest and it drilled home to me the reality that both of them really just like to complain, but when it comes down to the wire they were doing okay. I feel that for them they still want to ride, just not all the time. I think that is pretty typical of life. Rides are fun sometimes, drama is exciting sometimes, stress is inevitable, but when it is all you do, see and live....you want to change it. I think it's time I got out of line and take the kids home.
Monday, February 18, 2013
Blue Balloons
Right now I am filled with pain. I hurt. My heart pounds inside my chest and my eyes are so sore from crying. My body is exhausted and my mind is numb. I do not have the flu or an illness to blame this on. I want to choose to forget or at least forget for a little while my pain and move through this day. I don't want my children to see me cry and worry. There is nothing they can do to take away my pain. I know where it comes from. It began long ago. I hurt.
I cannot change this pain. I can't cover it with make up or eat enough food to fill it up. Nothing I buy or give away will change how I feel. No matter how many times I donate blood, break my back for a friend, help my kids with their homework, read to their classes, throw parties for them, give my energy to make another's day it does not stop this pain. No matter how much I love my life or love the people in it, I will always have this hurt. No books or religion hold the remedy for this hurt. No medicine internal or external can relieve my pain. Nobody can love me enough to make this torture end.
Sometimes I wake up and it's better. I see the beauty in the sunshine and the smile of my loved ones. I kiss my kitten and she almost giggles at me. The drive to work isn't filled with no-driving egg heads out to ruin my day. Work is blissfully easy and goes quickly. I have food and cook quietly while my children tell me about their fantastic day of little miracles and we spend time together laughing. Some times I lay my head down and my pillow feels like heaven. Not today.
What do you do when you know what causes your pain, but there is no remedy? I cope. I talk. I try. I lie to myself. I get busy with other things in my life that I can enjoy, but the pain still returns. I am still grieving for my expectations. I have acceptance, even forgiveness, but I have so much pain because in all the stages of my life I have had no parents. It affects me in so many ways daily. I realize I'm not alone and I'm old enough now that I don't need a parent, but there were so many times when I did. Children need adults to guide them. Children need to know that they are not alone. Children need a time when they aren't afraid. Children need to be encouraged to try even if they fail. Children need to hear that the only opinion that matters is theirs. Children need parents that can model these behaviors. If they don't have these things, I don't think they can truly ever grow up or change life for the better. They are left with a horrible pain, anger, incredible resentment, fear, mistrust, and independence.
Worst of all, it is a cycle. I understand my parents. I know my grandparents. I have talked to all of them so much about how they felt as children. What happened to shape them into the people they are. It is the biggest challenge in my life to PARENT my children and stop this cycle of abuse. I want my children to be proud of me and to learn from me about being responsible and being an adult. I want them to develop their own passion and confidence to guide them in their decisions, not fear. I want them to know I will stand with them through any consequences, but I will not take their choices away out of my fear. I want them to know real love, the kind that comes from within themselves, and never doubt they will always be alright even long after I'm gone. I want to love my children for who they really are, not how I want them to be or what they do for me. Most of all I want them to grow up at a normal pace and have a normal childhood. I just don't know what a normal childhood is.
I don't want my children to have so much pain in their lives. I don't want so much pain in my life, but I know I am the only one that can stop my pain by letting it go. Today I bought a blue balloon and let it go. It was only a little pain. It was that I didn't have a wedding because I was angry. I didn't want my step-father to walk me down the isle and too hurt or too scared to ask my biological father to attend, because of the changes that would make in my life and the people I would hurt. So I gave up my dream of having a big wedding and gave up my dream of having a good marriage the same day by marrying the wrong man being desperate for someone to love me. It was only a small part of my pain, but I let that go. It felt good. I feel a little better. I still have a lot of hurt to let go, but there are a lot of balloons.
I cannot change this pain. I can't cover it with make up or eat enough food to fill it up. Nothing I buy or give away will change how I feel. No matter how many times I donate blood, break my back for a friend, help my kids with their homework, read to their classes, throw parties for them, give my energy to make another's day it does not stop this pain. No matter how much I love my life or love the people in it, I will always have this hurt. No books or religion hold the remedy for this hurt. No medicine internal or external can relieve my pain. Nobody can love me enough to make this torture end.
Sometimes I wake up and it's better. I see the beauty in the sunshine and the smile of my loved ones. I kiss my kitten and she almost giggles at me. The drive to work isn't filled with no-driving egg heads out to ruin my day. Work is blissfully easy and goes quickly. I have food and cook quietly while my children tell me about their fantastic day of little miracles and we spend time together laughing. Some times I lay my head down and my pillow feels like heaven. Not today.
What do you do when you know what causes your pain, but there is no remedy? I cope. I talk. I try. I lie to myself. I get busy with other things in my life that I can enjoy, but the pain still returns. I am still grieving for my expectations. I have acceptance, even forgiveness, but I have so much pain because in all the stages of my life I have had no parents. It affects me in so many ways daily. I realize I'm not alone and I'm old enough now that I don't need a parent, but there were so many times when I did. Children need adults to guide them. Children need to know that they are not alone. Children need a time when they aren't afraid. Children need to be encouraged to try even if they fail. Children need to hear that the only opinion that matters is theirs. Children need parents that can model these behaviors. If they don't have these things, I don't think they can truly ever grow up or change life for the better. They are left with a horrible pain, anger, incredible resentment, fear, mistrust, and independence.
Worst of all, it is a cycle. I understand my parents. I know my grandparents. I have talked to all of them so much about how they felt as children. What happened to shape them into the people they are. It is the biggest challenge in my life to PARENT my children and stop this cycle of abuse. I want my children to be proud of me and to learn from me about being responsible and being an adult. I want them to develop their own passion and confidence to guide them in their decisions, not fear. I want them to know I will stand with them through any consequences, but I will not take their choices away out of my fear. I want them to know real love, the kind that comes from within themselves, and never doubt they will always be alright even long after I'm gone. I want to love my children for who they really are, not how I want them to be or what they do for me. Most of all I want them to grow up at a normal pace and have a normal childhood. I just don't know what a normal childhood is.
I don't want my children to have so much pain in their lives. I don't want so much pain in my life, but I know I am the only one that can stop my pain by letting it go. Today I bought a blue balloon and let it go. It was only a little pain. It was that I didn't have a wedding because I was angry. I didn't want my step-father to walk me down the isle and too hurt or too scared to ask my biological father to attend, because of the changes that would make in my life and the people I would hurt. So I gave up my dream of having a big wedding and gave up my dream of having a good marriage the same day by marrying the wrong man being desperate for someone to love me. It was only a small part of my pain, but I let that go. It felt good. I feel a little better. I still have a lot of hurt to let go, but there are a lot of balloons.
Thursday, February 7, 2013
Bent
I feel like I'm bent. Not broken, not incapable of functioning, but there is a difficulty. I'm affected somehow on a subconscious and every increasingly conscious level that there is a fundamental difference between the way I think, speak, function and they way other "normal" people do. I'm different somehow. I don't seem to fit in, but I have many friends. I don't have a best friend. I realize at 41 best friends may be an outdated concept, but I just feel strange about reaching out sometimes just to have a conversation. I'm jealous of people that do have that kind of connection. I am starting to become more internal and I'm not really sure why. I have less tolerance for immaturity except from people who are truly immature like children and it seems I'm surrounded by drama queens and Peter Pans. I want to pursue Buddhism, gardening, and write. I have a hard time seeing the point in developing any work relationships, because I don't want to work at this job for any longer than it takes to become an independent writer. I love my friends, but I also can't stand some of them for more than an hour. I get home and take a shower and thank God I'm not them. I have ever increasing empathy for all the people I get to know, because it is easier to see their reasons and courage despite their circumstances. It is easier to understand the why, but my choice is just to not participate, join or belong. Maybe I just need a different place to belong, different friends, different definitions of normal. How does a person do that? What is this pull to someplace different?
I think this bending began a long time ago. I think I've been bending and bending trying to fit in to what other people's expectations were of me. I think my divorce was a breaking point. Either I quit bending or I would break, but I am now forever bent. My focus is different. It's like I was standing up my whole life and now I'm in one of those weird yoga poses trying desperately to stretch out the kinks and find some inner peace. I gravitate toward people that are in transition. I crave new books, new ideas, new anything. Maybe this is what mid-life crisis is like? Maybe I'm just bored with everything. Maybe I'm just starting to define what is really important to me.
One of my biggest fears of getting older is that my children will grow up and have these wonderful experiences going to college and being on their own and I will just be old and lonely. I refuse to do this! I refuse to keep working a dead end good job and eat myself into a 300 pound misery cushion, because all of my coping mechanisms have been stripped away except for food. I have changed my eating habits, but when travel, art, and age limit you between what is financially possible and what you really enjoy, then you have to really start to look at what you CAN really enjoy right now. When you begin one life and build up your dreams stacking them neatly on top of each other, you are at the bottom and can't see everyone else slipping their own added expectations on to your pile. The weight gets heavier and heavier until all of the sudden you're bent. Even worse when life comes along and rips the foundation out from under you, the stack of dreams falls all over smashing to pieces and you are left bent with nothing you recognize. I don't mind being bent and rebuilding, but I'm not entirely sure what to build. The pieces of my dreams don't fit and little slivers of expectations keep getting stuck where they don't belong. It's like changing your make up for the first time since high school. You stand back in the mirror and ask, "Is this me? Can I pull off this pink of a blusher? Do people wear this color of blue or am I going to look like a total prostitute?" You want to trust the sales woman who just spent the better part of 15 minutes applying the new product, but you also want to retreat back to the same old comfortable brown eyeliner and lip gloss that carried you through two of the most important relationships of your young life. Maybe the NEW just needs time to grow on me? I guess I have until my son's graduation.
I bought a house a short time ago and couldn't be happier with the purchase. I, however, didn't buy a house for me. It is a huge debt, huge responsibility, and a huge hassle since I'm not the best at maintenance. I bought a house for my family. I wanted the children to have a home. I wanted to paint their rooms and decorate with their artwork in a space we could truly express ourselves. I wanted them to feel comfortable an invite their friends over. I wanted to invest in something that might give me a return or help me pay for college if I sold it. It gives me a place to practice being myself. I'm gaining confidence by repairing my broken drain and fixing the toilet. I feel good knowing that my children think of my house as their home. I have noticed that the first week excitement has passed and now the reality of being stuck here until my kids graduate high school is bumming me out. Still, I have decided to use this time for improving the curb appeal and resale value of this house and to really begin to write. This house doesn't have to be prison, it can still be my refuge until I decide I'm ready to swim for it and brave the unknown ocean again. I don't know where this restlessness is coming from? Is it possible that it's just a side affect of freedom? Do I feel like this because for the first time in my life I'm just not afraid of what comes next?
Being bent is not being broken and I guess at some point we all look within and acknowledge something is different. I'm not a girl anymore. I have wrinkles. My back hurts sometimes when it rains. My friends are different people and some are exactly the same as they were in high school. It's harder to maintain friendships and feel that closeness that you had when you told someone everything, because frankly we all make mistakes and might not want people to know everything. Maybe I am afraid of being that intimate with anyone? Maybe I don't trust them enough to understand me? I do entertain a lot of crazy notions and ideas. I think that is why I like writing. Blank pages don't judge or mock me. They are open and friendly waiting to be filled with details. Unfortunately, telling a joke on paper is not as fun as hearing your friends laughter. Books don't hug you, although they may tug at your heartstrings and stimulate your brain. Maybe I'm just bent in a weird direction right now and as time goes on that part of me will loosen and my perspective will change. I am much more conscious of all my decisions and the consequences of all my decisions now and I like that awareness even if it brings more stress. Cautious has never been who I am, but I guess that is why it feels different. It's hard to be the same person, yet different in so many ways. I struggle with bent.
I think this bending began a long time ago. I think I've been bending and bending trying to fit in to what other people's expectations were of me. I think my divorce was a breaking point. Either I quit bending or I would break, but I am now forever bent. My focus is different. It's like I was standing up my whole life and now I'm in one of those weird yoga poses trying desperately to stretch out the kinks and find some inner peace. I gravitate toward people that are in transition. I crave new books, new ideas, new anything. Maybe this is what mid-life crisis is like? Maybe I'm just bored with everything. Maybe I'm just starting to define what is really important to me.
One of my biggest fears of getting older is that my children will grow up and have these wonderful experiences going to college and being on their own and I will just be old and lonely. I refuse to do this! I refuse to keep working a dead end good job and eat myself into a 300 pound misery cushion, because all of my coping mechanisms have been stripped away except for food. I have changed my eating habits, but when travel, art, and age limit you between what is financially possible and what you really enjoy, then you have to really start to look at what you CAN really enjoy right now. When you begin one life and build up your dreams stacking them neatly on top of each other, you are at the bottom and can't see everyone else slipping their own added expectations on to your pile. The weight gets heavier and heavier until all of the sudden you're bent. Even worse when life comes along and rips the foundation out from under you, the stack of dreams falls all over smashing to pieces and you are left bent with nothing you recognize. I don't mind being bent and rebuilding, but I'm not entirely sure what to build. The pieces of my dreams don't fit and little slivers of expectations keep getting stuck where they don't belong. It's like changing your make up for the first time since high school. You stand back in the mirror and ask, "Is this me? Can I pull off this pink of a blusher? Do people wear this color of blue or am I going to look like a total prostitute?" You want to trust the sales woman who just spent the better part of 15 minutes applying the new product, but you also want to retreat back to the same old comfortable brown eyeliner and lip gloss that carried you through two of the most important relationships of your young life. Maybe the NEW just needs time to grow on me? I guess I have until my son's graduation.
I bought a house a short time ago and couldn't be happier with the purchase. I, however, didn't buy a house for me. It is a huge debt, huge responsibility, and a huge hassle since I'm not the best at maintenance. I bought a house for my family. I wanted the children to have a home. I wanted to paint their rooms and decorate with their artwork in a space we could truly express ourselves. I wanted them to feel comfortable an invite their friends over. I wanted to invest in something that might give me a return or help me pay for college if I sold it. It gives me a place to practice being myself. I'm gaining confidence by repairing my broken drain and fixing the toilet. I feel good knowing that my children think of my house as their home. I have noticed that the first week excitement has passed and now the reality of being stuck here until my kids graduate high school is bumming me out. Still, I have decided to use this time for improving the curb appeal and resale value of this house and to really begin to write. This house doesn't have to be prison, it can still be my refuge until I decide I'm ready to swim for it and brave the unknown ocean again. I don't know where this restlessness is coming from? Is it possible that it's just a side affect of freedom? Do I feel like this because for the first time in my life I'm just not afraid of what comes next?
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
Forty Plus One
Well my birthday is rapidly approaching. I am turning 41. That is unbelievable to me, but yet in a week I will be well into my 40's. I don't feel 41. In fact I feel the same as I did when I was 25. A little wiser, a little more aware, but basically the same. I am heavier but working to eat healthier and make 41 a leaner year. I have decided to take up meditation seriously this year and have plans to attend a workshop on my birthday. I just don't feel like 41. Where has all the time gone? I think turning 41 is harder on me than turning 30. It just seems like I am saying internally, "No, you are too old for that." a bunch more than I used to. I look at the dates on some of my favorite movies and some are more that 25 years old. How did this happen? The songs I listen to are on the classic rock stations, my outfits are more toward the vintage and I am just 41!! I don't even want to think about what my kids say about me when I'm out there playing soccer with them or dancing in the kitchen. Why does 41 seem like it's old in my mind, but not in my heart? I still get hit on at the grocery store, why do I have to be 41???
One of the things I love about myself is I do not look my age thanks to great skin, greater makeup and never smoking, however, hormones have not done me any favors recently and my doctor informs me that part of this could be me going through menopause. Pre-menopausal? Are you freaking serious? I wanted to punch him in the throat and that was not about the hormones. Pre-menopause has some wonderful symptoms like night sweats, mood swings, dry skin (everywhere), weight gain, blah blah blah all of which I have been experiencing for a couple of years now. I guess my uterus has given up on me since being unused for 10 years and decided I was too old to have any more kids too. The "Change" as my mother calls it is about as welcome as fibroids which I might also have to deal with. I am usually a great herald of change, but not within my body and not that is so beyond my control regarding my body. I wasn't a huge fan of puberty and menopause doesn't seem to be that whippy either. "Look at the bright side, no more periods," the nurse was now holding me back from punching him in the throat! I am not pre-menopausal ok. I refuse to be.
I also refuse to accept that I can't wear a bikini. I may not chuck my pumpkin butt down to the public pool anymore, but I will always wear a two piece. I have a short torso and I can never find a one piece that doesn't hang low at the bottom. I'm not a Victoria Secret model and I don't have to be perfect. I will never accept that I can't wear a bikini. My mom is 57 and still wears one, I guess that is where I get it.
Growing older with grace and dignity? I don't know if I know how to do that? There are so many things I want to accomplish in my life still. I realize that 41 isn't the end of the road and far from it, but it is a ways down the road. I feel guilty that I haven't accomplished some of the things on my bucket list yet. I feel guilty that I wasted some of my time afraid and feeling sorry for myself. I feel guilty that I made bad financial decisions. I guess one good thing is now that I'm older and wiser, I know guilt doesn't really help anybody. I also realize it isn't too late to do all those things I wanted to accomplish if I try harder. Grace was never a trait high on my description list, so why should it be a requisite for getting older? Dignity? That really kind of flew out the window with my twenties. No, I won't be skinny dipping in a public pool anymore, but I will skinny dip til I die! I will just promise not to allow any YouTube videos.
So to mark this milestone of my development, I have come up with a few things I will never be too old for:
1. Haircolor - Even if I color it purple, I will always have product in my hair.
2. Bikini's - Even if I look like Magda from "Something About Mary" I will wear me a two-piece!
3. High heels - I might have a cane and a wheelchair, but I will never give up my heels!
4. Ice Cream Cones - Yes, I will have a double dip please!
5. Skinny Dipping - Nothing in this world feels as free as being naked in the water.
6. Nail Polish - On my toes and fingers! In fact the older I get the more I will get manicure and pedicures! I deserve it!
7. Animal Print Clothing - I don't care if it is my underwear, I will always have animal prints!!
8. Flirting - I don't care if I'm 90! Hot is hot and I will probably tell you about it. WINK!
9. Motorcycles - Ok I might not ride one when I'm 90, but if I get a chance I probably will.
10. Travel - Let's face it, most of us Joe Blows only get a few states away. Even if I can't drive myself, walk without assistance, or poop unless I have a bag attached to me, I will travel to other countries, states, or even possibly Mars. I will never let my age keep me from exploring.
On that note, this is my continuing mission.
To explore strange new worlds and eat ice cream there wearing a bikini...
To seek out new life; new civilizations, and new hair products...
To boldly go where no one has gone before in animal print clothing and high heels riding a motorcycle!
No fear! Bazinga!! Happy Birthday to me!
One of the things I love about myself is I do not look my age thanks to great skin, greater makeup and never smoking, however, hormones have not done me any favors recently and my doctor informs me that part of this could be me going through menopause. Pre-menopausal? Are you freaking serious? I wanted to punch him in the throat and that was not about the hormones. Pre-menopause has some wonderful symptoms like night sweats, mood swings, dry skin (everywhere), weight gain, blah blah blah all of which I have been experiencing for a couple of years now. I guess my uterus has given up on me since being unused for 10 years and decided I was too old to have any more kids too. The "Change" as my mother calls it is about as welcome as fibroids which I might also have to deal with. I am usually a great herald of change, but not within my body and not that is so beyond my control regarding my body. I wasn't a huge fan of puberty and menopause doesn't seem to be that whippy either. "Look at the bright side, no more periods," the nurse was now holding me back from punching him in the throat! I am not pre-menopausal ok. I refuse to be.
I also refuse to accept that I can't wear a bikini. I may not chuck my pumpkin butt down to the public pool anymore, but I will always wear a two piece. I have a short torso and I can never find a one piece that doesn't hang low at the bottom. I'm not a Victoria Secret model and I don't have to be perfect. I will never accept that I can't wear a bikini. My mom is 57 and still wears one, I guess that is where I get it.
Growing older with grace and dignity? I don't know if I know how to do that? There are so many things I want to accomplish in my life still. I realize that 41 isn't the end of the road and far from it, but it is a ways down the road. I feel guilty that I haven't accomplished some of the things on my bucket list yet. I feel guilty that I wasted some of my time afraid and feeling sorry for myself. I feel guilty that I made bad financial decisions. I guess one good thing is now that I'm older and wiser, I know guilt doesn't really help anybody. I also realize it isn't too late to do all those things I wanted to accomplish if I try harder. Grace was never a trait high on my description list, so why should it be a requisite for getting older? Dignity? That really kind of flew out the window with my twenties. No, I won't be skinny dipping in a public pool anymore, but I will skinny dip til I die! I will just promise not to allow any YouTube videos.
So to mark this milestone of my development, I have come up with a few things I will never be too old for:
1. Haircolor - Even if I color it purple, I will always have product in my hair.
2. Bikini's - Even if I look like Magda from "Something About Mary" I will wear me a two-piece!
3. High heels - I might have a cane and a wheelchair, but I will never give up my heels!
4. Ice Cream Cones - Yes, I will have a double dip please!
5. Skinny Dipping - Nothing in this world feels as free as being naked in the water.
6. Nail Polish - On my toes and fingers! In fact the older I get the more I will get manicure and pedicures! I deserve it!
7. Animal Print Clothing - I don't care if it is my underwear, I will always have animal prints!!
8. Flirting - I don't care if I'm 90! Hot is hot and I will probably tell you about it. WINK!
9. Motorcycles - Ok I might not ride one when I'm 90, but if I get a chance I probably will.
10. Travel - Let's face it, most of us Joe Blows only get a few states away. Even if I can't drive myself, walk without assistance, or poop unless I have a bag attached to me, I will travel to other countries, states, or even possibly Mars. I will never let my age keep me from exploring.
On that note, this is my continuing mission.
To explore strange new worlds and eat ice cream there wearing a bikini...
To seek out new life; new civilizations, and new hair products...
To boldly go where no one has gone before in animal print clothing and high heels riding a motorcycle!
No fear! Bazinga!! Happy Birthday to me!
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
Gambling on Peace
So much has been flooding my inbox and Facebook about people arming themselves and being afraid. How do we protect our children? How do we protect ourselves and our home? The answer is simple. You can't. You can't be prepared for all things to come and if you spend your life afraid and every choice you make is made in fear, then you are not truly living. I have done a great deal of reflecting and thinking and it seems to me that people never choose peace. People always choose war. The first choice in war is to look at external causes for your actions and take no personal responsibility. For example, my friend told me she was going to go to classes and buy a gun. Why, I asked? For protection she offered. From what, I asked? From everything she answered. Guns do not protect you from anything. Just like guns do not kill people, people do. She was making a choice to fight. She was potentially making a choice to kill if necessary. She chose war.
War is evil. War kills period. I firmly believe that the only thing war accomplishes is death. War is like a gun. War may be easier, drive the economy more, and cause so much pain and devastation that real change becomes a more acceptable alternative, but it still has only one outcome that is for certain. Death. Death of real children, real adults, and real people that never touched a gun, a bomb, a club, a rock or any other weapon. Real people that were living their lives, shopping, taking a walk, watching TV or going to school. There are many choices that lead up to war, but we make those small choices every single day. War is over if you want it. IF YOU WANT IT. If we all chose change and not war it would be over, however, fear makes people choose war.
If any of you have ever read If You Give A Mouse A Cookie, you can see the error in choosing war. Let's say my friend buys her gun. She is safe right? Wrong. Her house was robbed while she was not home. Thieves stole her gun and then broke into her neighbor's house and shot her neighbor and five children while they slept. This made her more afraid so she moved close to an military base and bought a new gun and installed an alarm system. The military base was targeted by terrorists and bombed. One of the bombs missed and hit her house killing her and everyone in a 10 mile radius. There will always be more guns, more bombs, more people that have no empathy for human life beyond their immediate family or just themselves and the first time we CHOOSE war we head down that path that only leads in one direction, more death.
I know, everything has to die right? All paths ultimately lead to death. So why worry about when or where? Why do we need to take up arms or lock our doors at all. Gotta die sometime right? I'm just like the rest of you, I don't want to die. I don't want to die before my kids are grown and I see everything there is to see! Actually I want scientists to develop robot bodies and just transfer my consciousness into it and never die, but that is just me. I certainly don't want to die knowing that a thief has just stolen my gun, shot me and now my two small children are facing that thief alone with their mother bleeding out all over the floor in front of them. I don't want my kids to die, or my family, friends, people on the street, or anybody to die truthfully! It is sad. It is a part of life however.
Living is also a part of life. A part I think some people are so afraid of death that they forget about. If you were the last person on earth and everyone else was gone, would you just crawl in a corner and wait? I certainly hope not! I hope you would really really live! Live for all of us that are gone! Swim in the ocean! Go to a Five Star Hotel and live it up! Eat a million chocolates! Dance all night! Drive like 120 miles an hour! Go to a mall and try on everything! Just live! I know I want my children, family and friends to go on without me, remember the good times and live their lives to the absolute fullest! I also want them to live with no fear of being imperfect. I want them to take chances and make mistakes! I want them to love so deeply it makes them cry and never be afraid of that! I never want them to be afraid and that is something I can teach them.
How do you teach someone to be afraid? You live in fear. You do only what is acceptable or expected. You live like a gangster. You fit in and if someone comes at you with a bat, you get a knife. If they come back with a gun you get a bigger gun. You look, do, feel and be everything you can to not be weak. You don't love. You don't feel anything if you can help it. You resist change or any ideas that might be different than what you see as acceptable. You fear people that are different from you. You don't educate yourself. You don't travel any farther than one state away. You are possessive and don't trust anyone. This is what you show your children. You teach them that fear is necessary, because you never know when something might happen.
You could teach them to choose peace. You could teach them that change is inevitable. You could teach them that because you never know what might happen, something great is just around the corner. You could teach them that death is going to happen to all of us, but that doesn't mean you won't always be there for them in their hearts and minds. You could teach them that all living things are connected and when one thing is harmed we are all diminished in a small way. You could teach them that it is okay to be afraid sometimes and talk to them about their fears until they feel more confident in their ability to handle everything that comes their way. You could teach them to be responsible for their choices and to think ahead. You can teach them to care about the world not just our little corner of it.
We all never know when something might happen. I could post this blog and get into a car accident and die. Should I not drive? Fear has this wonderful way of blinding us to common sense, change or any opportunity that might come along with the risk we take just walking out the front door. Choices are all we really have in this life, everything else is just the luck of the draw. You have to play the cards your are dealt and hope you get a good hand, but if you quit playing you are guaranteed to lose. I choose to play with everything I have in me! May all the world be comforted and know they are loved. May all the world seek guidance and wisdom. May all the world choose peace for the sake of their fellow men/women. May this spirit last all year long and bring change. May all the world be free from fear. Good luck and Happy Holidays!
War is evil. War kills period. I firmly believe that the only thing war accomplishes is death. War is like a gun. War may be easier, drive the economy more, and cause so much pain and devastation that real change becomes a more acceptable alternative, but it still has only one outcome that is for certain. Death. Death of real children, real adults, and real people that never touched a gun, a bomb, a club, a rock or any other weapon. Real people that were living their lives, shopping, taking a walk, watching TV or going to school. There are many choices that lead up to war, but we make those small choices every single day. War is over if you want it. IF YOU WANT IT. If we all chose change and not war it would be over, however, fear makes people choose war.
If any of you have ever read If You Give A Mouse A Cookie, you can see the error in choosing war. Let's say my friend buys her gun. She is safe right? Wrong. Her house was robbed while she was not home. Thieves stole her gun and then broke into her neighbor's house and shot her neighbor and five children while they slept. This made her more afraid so she moved close to an military base and bought a new gun and installed an alarm system. The military base was targeted by terrorists and bombed. One of the bombs missed and hit her house killing her and everyone in a 10 mile radius. There will always be more guns, more bombs, more people that have no empathy for human life beyond their immediate family or just themselves and the first time we CHOOSE war we head down that path that only leads in one direction, more death.
I know, everything has to die right? All paths ultimately lead to death. So why worry about when or where? Why do we need to take up arms or lock our doors at all. Gotta die sometime right? I'm just like the rest of you, I don't want to die. I don't want to die before my kids are grown and I see everything there is to see! Actually I want scientists to develop robot bodies and just transfer my consciousness into it and never die, but that is just me. I certainly don't want to die knowing that a thief has just stolen my gun, shot me and now my two small children are facing that thief alone with their mother bleeding out all over the floor in front of them. I don't want my kids to die, or my family, friends, people on the street, or anybody to die truthfully! It is sad. It is a part of life however.
Living is also a part of life. A part I think some people are so afraid of death that they forget about. If you were the last person on earth and everyone else was gone, would you just crawl in a corner and wait? I certainly hope not! I hope you would really really live! Live for all of us that are gone! Swim in the ocean! Go to a Five Star Hotel and live it up! Eat a million chocolates! Dance all night! Drive like 120 miles an hour! Go to a mall and try on everything! Just live! I know I want my children, family and friends to go on without me, remember the good times and live their lives to the absolute fullest! I also want them to live with no fear of being imperfect. I want them to take chances and make mistakes! I want them to love so deeply it makes them cry and never be afraid of that! I never want them to be afraid and that is something I can teach them.
How do you teach someone to be afraid? You live in fear. You do only what is acceptable or expected. You live like a gangster. You fit in and if someone comes at you with a bat, you get a knife. If they come back with a gun you get a bigger gun. You look, do, feel and be everything you can to not be weak. You don't love. You don't feel anything if you can help it. You resist change or any ideas that might be different than what you see as acceptable. You fear people that are different from you. You don't educate yourself. You don't travel any farther than one state away. You are possessive and don't trust anyone. This is what you show your children. You teach them that fear is necessary, because you never know when something might happen.
You could teach them to choose peace. You could teach them that change is inevitable. You could teach them that because you never know what might happen, something great is just around the corner. You could teach them that death is going to happen to all of us, but that doesn't mean you won't always be there for them in their hearts and minds. You could teach them that all living things are connected and when one thing is harmed we are all diminished in a small way. You could teach them that it is okay to be afraid sometimes and talk to them about their fears until they feel more confident in their ability to handle everything that comes their way. You could teach them to be responsible for their choices and to think ahead. You can teach them to care about the world not just our little corner of it.
We all never know when something might happen. I could post this blog and get into a car accident and die. Should I not drive? Fear has this wonderful way of blinding us to common sense, change or any opportunity that might come along with the risk we take just walking out the front door. Choices are all we really have in this life, everything else is just the luck of the draw. You have to play the cards your are dealt and hope you get a good hand, but if you quit playing you are guaranteed to lose. I choose to play with everything I have in me! May all the world be comforted and know they are loved. May all the world seek guidance and wisdom. May all the world choose peace for the sake of their fellow men/women. May this spirit last all year long and bring change. May all the world be free from fear. Good luck and Happy Holidays!
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
Men Are Like Purses
Let's face it, all women really need is a great purse. A great purse can literally save your life. You pack enough into that purse and you are prepared for anything at anytime and it is heavy enough that you can take down a rhino just by lobbing it at them. We love purses! We are always looking for just the right purse that can keep everything we need in just the right place. We think we love this purse and there will never be another purse that will work better. Then along comes another season and our old purse has lost it's sparkle and has gunk spilled in the bottom of it. We start to see other bigger purses, fancier purses with zippers and buckles! We think that purse will be the one for me! We find the best purse that goes with everything. We keep that purse for years! We pack it with all our things and WHAMO! Our purse is stolen, gone with all our stuff! We are left naked with our credit cards maxed! Jaded we begin again to search for a more sensible purse. Sound familiar? Men are like purses!
I know lots of you are thinking, men are human beings. How can say that about another human being? I guess I want them to be more than an accessory. Men have trophies, we have purses. Well girls the search for the perfect man is just like our quest for the perfect purse. In the end, we end up with a designer bag full of crap. Crap that we think we can't live without. Crap is just crap even with a Dolce label on it. Men are human beings and until we can recognize they aren't all full of crap or something to fill up with our crap, they will only be an accessory. Just like men that keep searching for that perfect size six, long legs, great boobs and a cute smile will only end up with a self-absorbed, fake tanned, fake nailed bubble head that only wants a new purse. Nobody is perfect.
There will always be another purse. Either the last one had too many pockets or not enough, the lining was too dark, the color was a little off, the zipper broke or any other of the bazillion excuses we use to buy a new purse. Basically, we as women need to be able to carry our own crap. Our crap stinks just like everybody else's and it's not up to anybody else to carry it. If you're like me you end up carrying a lot of other people's crap around in your purse like the kid's crap for instance. Water bottles, pacifiers, and toys to play with at the restaurant and extra pairs of pants just in case the off chance somebody might need it. Our purse gets cluttered and its hard to dig out what is useful. We do this to our men. We start out telling them they are great and it doesn't bother us in the least that play softball on Sundays, bowl on Wednesday nights and have that edgy look! Then as our lives change suddenly all our things don't fit and the fact they can change our tires gets lost in the side pocket buried under your gum and lip plumper. Men aren't here to carry our crap. They weren't made to know the difference between aqua and chartreuse. They don't understand romantic gestures except that somewhere on TV it usually gets a guy laid. Everything they need is packed into a 3" x 5" leather strap that is mostly taken up by a debit card and pictures we gave them. Men are simple and I don't mean that they are stupid. I think that millions of years of evolution has taught them to carry only what is necessary and grab the rest when you can. Women are the hoarders of the crap! Let it go and don't blame the purse! When men say, "Well if you didn't try to carry so much crap..." They are right!
Women need to stop expecting so much from their purse or all you end up with is a huge back of crap. Same goes for the men in our lives. We need to tell them exactly what we NEED and leave all the fluff out. My ex-husband was like a duffel bag. Handy, sturdy and useful, but I seldom if ever needed him. I didn't need him and he felt empty and useless. He wasn't even a purse. He was an awesome duffel bag, but not what I needed. I truly think after dating the second time around after my divorce it became perfectly clear to me that I was only searching for a new purse, not a new partner. I wanted a man that I could unload all of my crap into and it would fit perfectly so I didn't have to carry it around. How surprised I was to find that all I ended up with was a nicer looking crap carrier? Do we as women really want a bag of crap? It wasn't until dumped my emotional baggage out on the table and really started to look at all of my crap that I realized what I really needed. I needed a man that wouldn't take any crap.
A good purse can be a life saver or crap basket. It can be a heavy catch all or the accessory to make your outfit. Men are like purses a women need to realize even the best purse is going to wear out if you just stuff it with crap. Be gentle with your favorite purse and don't expect something the size of an coin purse to hold up to ten items. Only trust that purse to hold what is really important and what you really need and YOU carry the rest. Get the right purse for the job and if you get the wrong purse, let it go right away! We all have that purse we thought was going to look great and then found out the zipper was busted and it had no cell phone outer pocket! It wasn't the purse, it was us! We picked the wrong purse or we were so desperate for a purse we didn't take the time to assess our real needs. A beautiful bag full of shit is still a bag of shit.
For any men that read this take a long hard look at the woman you are dating and at their purse. Here are some things to think about.
SIZE - If the purse is a more like a backpack this is a woman that is used to carrying around a lot of crap! She has high expectations. She gets attached to things easily. She has needs and few of them are being met. She is looking for a man that will help her carry the load so if you con't want to carry that purse for her, do her a favor and move on. If there is anything that vibrates in that bag, run
If the purse is regular sized but so packed everything comes spilling out it is the same story as above, but she is also crying out for attention. If you don't want to give her the time and attention, move on. If it is regular sized and she can find a pen to give you her number or a stick of gum that isn't covered in hair in less than a minute, you are probably dealing with a sensible woman that will only expect flowers on her birthday and appreciate a good man.
If the purse is small more like a coin purse and she only carries her debit card, cash and a lip gloss. She is hiding her real purse until she knows you better.
COLORS:
White - High maintenance, impulsive, short attention span
Black/Brown/Tan - Sensible, classic and likes a big bank for her buck. Loyal and will commit to the right one. Patient.
Red, Neons, Blue or very trendy colors - Goes for what she percieves as hot, but then nitpicks the
very things that attracted her in the first place. Indecisive and impulsive.
Denim - Mom purse has totally give up being fashionable and will wear sweats to bed.
Animal Print - likes an adventure, seeks to tame the beast inside you but can be clingy. Low expectations of men and will put you down quickly if you get out of line.
Visible Pockets - If there are more than five pockets on the outside of a purse and she can't find anything then she is the queen of chaos. She loves drama and creates it all herself. If everything has a place and she gets really upset if her pen ended up in the wrong pocket you can bet she is gonna hound you like a dog over your boxers laying in the corner of the room.
Sparkle - If the amount of bling on her bag could stop a train by blinding the engineer if the sun hit it from her car then you better multiply that sparkle by ten when buying her wedding ring. Materialistic, fun, likes grand gestures.
Hobo, Hippie or Crochet bag - Easy going, disorganized, late, likes organic but will take Starbucks if you are buying. Not really looking, not sure what she wants, but willing to try anything once.
CONDITION:
Old and tattered - She sticks with one guy until there is nothing left. Better be in it to win it because she will latch on to you like you are the only man for her and stay until you fall apart and then try to stitch you back together with duct tape. Trusting, cheep and loyal.
New purse every time you see her - She always has a plan B. Impulse buyer. Does not respect you as an individual. Doesn't want to make it a date, just a possible hook up later if we meet at the same place. A player! Lots of fun but not for the long haul.
Same purse good condition but messy - Busy, but ready for a relationship. Takes on too much and is looking for someone to sweep her off her feet. Will respond well to romantic gestures no matter how small or cheesy.
Same purse like new and completely organized - Neat freak, coupon queen, will drive you insane with her demands and expectations. Don't look for this relationship to last if you are not responsible.
Of course like men purses come in all shapes, sizes, colors and condition which makes the quest all the more challenging. You can luck out and find a good purse at good will that just needs to be dry cleaned. That purse can save you time and time again if you appreciate it. Good luck ladies! Men if you are married to one of the above, dump out that crap! Brace yourself for the shitstorm to follow and help her clarify her needs and wants. You will both come out smelling like a rose in the end.
I know lots of you are thinking, men are human beings. How can say that about another human being? I guess I want them to be more than an accessory. Men have trophies, we have purses. Well girls the search for the perfect man is just like our quest for the perfect purse. In the end, we end up with a designer bag full of crap. Crap that we think we can't live without. Crap is just crap even with a Dolce label on it. Men are human beings and until we can recognize they aren't all full of crap or something to fill up with our crap, they will only be an accessory. Just like men that keep searching for that perfect size six, long legs, great boobs and a cute smile will only end up with a self-absorbed, fake tanned, fake nailed bubble head that only wants a new purse. Nobody is perfect.
There will always be another purse. Either the last one had too many pockets or not enough, the lining was too dark, the color was a little off, the zipper broke or any other of the bazillion excuses we use to buy a new purse. Basically, we as women need to be able to carry our own crap. Our crap stinks just like everybody else's and it's not up to anybody else to carry it. If you're like me you end up carrying a lot of other people's crap around in your purse like the kid's crap for instance. Water bottles, pacifiers, and toys to play with at the restaurant and extra pairs of pants just in case the off chance somebody might need it. Our purse gets cluttered and its hard to dig out what is useful. We do this to our men. We start out telling them they are great and it doesn't bother us in the least that play softball on Sundays, bowl on Wednesday nights and have that edgy look! Then as our lives change suddenly all our things don't fit and the fact they can change our tires gets lost in the side pocket buried under your gum and lip plumper. Men aren't here to carry our crap. They weren't made to know the difference between aqua and chartreuse. They don't understand romantic gestures except that somewhere on TV it usually gets a guy laid. Everything they need is packed into a 3" x 5" leather strap that is mostly taken up by a debit card and pictures we gave them. Men are simple and I don't mean that they are stupid. I think that millions of years of evolution has taught them to carry only what is necessary and grab the rest when you can. Women are the hoarders of the crap! Let it go and don't blame the purse! When men say, "Well if you didn't try to carry so much crap..." They are right!
Women need to stop expecting so much from their purse or all you end up with is a huge back of crap. Same goes for the men in our lives. We need to tell them exactly what we NEED and leave all the fluff out. My ex-husband was like a duffel bag. Handy, sturdy and useful, but I seldom if ever needed him. I didn't need him and he felt empty and useless. He wasn't even a purse. He was an awesome duffel bag, but not what I needed. I truly think after dating the second time around after my divorce it became perfectly clear to me that I was only searching for a new purse, not a new partner. I wanted a man that I could unload all of my crap into and it would fit perfectly so I didn't have to carry it around. How surprised I was to find that all I ended up with was a nicer looking crap carrier? Do we as women really want a bag of crap? It wasn't until dumped my emotional baggage out on the table and really started to look at all of my crap that I realized what I really needed. I needed a man that wouldn't take any crap.
A good purse can be a life saver or crap basket. It can be a heavy catch all or the accessory to make your outfit. Men are like purses a women need to realize even the best purse is going to wear out if you just stuff it with crap. Be gentle with your favorite purse and don't expect something the size of an coin purse to hold up to ten items. Only trust that purse to hold what is really important and what you really need and YOU carry the rest. Get the right purse for the job and if you get the wrong purse, let it go right away! We all have that purse we thought was going to look great and then found out the zipper was busted and it had no cell phone outer pocket! It wasn't the purse, it was us! We picked the wrong purse or we were so desperate for a purse we didn't take the time to assess our real needs. A beautiful bag full of shit is still a bag of shit.
For any men that read this take a long hard look at the woman you are dating and at their purse. Here are some things to think about.
SIZE - If the purse is a more like a backpack this is a woman that is used to carrying around a lot of crap! She has high expectations. She gets attached to things easily. She has needs and few of them are being met. She is looking for a man that will help her carry the load so if you con't want to carry that purse for her, do her a favor and move on. If there is anything that vibrates in that bag, run
If the purse is regular sized but so packed everything comes spilling out it is the same story as above, but she is also crying out for attention. If you don't want to give her the time and attention, move on. If it is regular sized and she can find a pen to give you her number or a stick of gum that isn't covered in hair in less than a minute, you are probably dealing with a sensible woman that will only expect flowers on her birthday and appreciate a good man.
If the purse is small more like a coin purse and she only carries her debit card, cash and a lip gloss. She is hiding her real purse until she knows you better.
COLORS:
White - High maintenance, impulsive, short attention span
Black/Brown/Tan - Sensible, classic and likes a big bank for her buck. Loyal and will commit to the right one. Patient.
Red, Neons, Blue or very trendy colors - Goes for what she percieves as hot, but then nitpicks the
very things that attracted her in the first place. Indecisive and impulsive.
Denim - Mom purse has totally give up being fashionable and will wear sweats to bed.
Animal Print - likes an adventure, seeks to tame the beast inside you but can be clingy. Low expectations of men and will put you down quickly if you get out of line.
Visible Pockets - If there are more than five pockets on the outside of a purse and she can't find anything then she is the queen of chaos. She loves drama and creates it all herself. If everything has a place and she gets really upset if her pen ended up in the wrong pocket you can bet she is gonna hound you like a dog over your boxers laying in the corner of the room.
Sparkle - If the amount of bling on her bag could stop a train by blinding the engineer if the sun hit it from her car then you better multiply that sparkle by ten when buying her wedding ring. Materialistic, fun, likes grand gestures.
Hobo, Hippie or Crochet bag - Easy going, disorganized, late, likes organic but will take Starbucks if you are buying. Not really looking, not sure what she wants, but willing to try anything once.
CONDITION:
Old and tattered - She sticks with one guy until there is nothing left. Better be in it to win it because she will latch on to you like you are the only man for her and stay until you fall apart and then try to stitch you back together with duct tape. Trusting, cheep and loyal.
New purse every time you see her - She always has a plan B. Impulse buyer. Does not respect you as an individual. Doesn't want to make it a date, just a possible hook up later if we meet at the same place. A player! Lots of fun but not for the long haul.
Same purse good condition but messy - Busy, but ready for a relationship. Takes on too much and is looking for someone to sweep her off her feet. Will respond well to romantic gestures no matter how small or cheesy.
Same purse like new and completely organized - Neat freak, coupon queen, will drive you insane with her demands and expectations. Don't look for this relationship to last if you are not responsible.
Of course like men purses come in all shapes, sizes, colors and condition which makes the quest all the more challenging. You can luck out and find a good purse at good will that just needs to be dry cleaned. That purse can save you time and time again if you appreciate it. Good luck ladies! Men if you are married to one of the above, dump out that crap! Brace yourself for the shitstorm to follow and help her clarify her needs and wants. You will both come out smelling like a rose in the end.
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