My friend Pam will be thrilled to know I'm updating this blog. Finally. She's lectured and threatened but I know she's non-confrontational so I wasn't worried. Now had she threatened something akin to eliminating all of the Snickers in town, I'd be concerned. That is a scary possibility!
There's a lot to update but not much of it is interesting so if you have more important things to do, just close down the page now and move on. Otherwise, sit down with a cup of coffee and enjoy.
Let's start with me. After all, this blog is all about me so that's a good place to start, don't you think?
I turned 43 this month. Four-tee-three. Wow. How the heck did that happen? It just baffles my mind that at four-tee-three I still think like a thur-tee-three year old. Sort of. Maybe. Anyway, considering the fact that I bawled my eyes out when I turned the big four-de, this didn't go so bad. I guess it's good to add a year than to stop, right?
Needless to say, I was fairly sad on my birthday. It was the official start of the 'firsts' for me. The first birthday without my mom. The first next year of my life without my mom. It made me feel lonely. She was the only one physically there to share the my life from day one. My father was at home watching TV (actually, probably sleeping since it was 2:30 AM but he likes to embellish a bit), so it was just mom and I and while I haven't spent a birthday with just since, it was sad to think I'll never talk with her again on that day. Or any day for that matter.
Then I had the first Thanksgiving without my mom a few days ago. It was a good holiday. I was busy cooking and cleaning and entertaining so I didn't have a whole lot of time to be sad. I thought of my mom a lot and I talked to her, giving thanks for the times I did have her close. My dad and 'step' mom (I really hate that title) were here and that was great. My father is 81 and lately I've seen his mortality. I'm sure it's because of my mom dying but it is still hard to think that in a few years I will likely have lost both my mother and my father.
I learned a big lesson with the passing of my mom and I wish I could have learned it earlier. My mother had many problems and I had many solutions to those problems. Most were health issues and I constantly told her what she needed to do to be better. She complained and got frustrated and I got frustrated with her. She had no intentions of doing any of the things I suggested and I continued to attempt to get her to change. What a waste of time. It created frustration for both of us and if I could go back and change that, I would. Now I watch my father make decisions for himself that harm him; he smokes, he doesn't move, he doesn't eat enough, etc. It frustrates me but I have learned that saying anything is pointless. He's not going to change at my suggestion and I'm not going to make him feel bad or frustrated because I don't like what he's doing. He's 81 and his life is his to do with as he pleases. What right do I have to try to change it just because I think it will keep him around longer? No right, actually. Instead of harping, I'm choosing to just let him be him and while that can be sad at times, it makes my relationship with him much easier and non-combative.
Sadly, with the onset of the holidays comes the onset of more poundage. It's time to take it seriously and start to move more. Actually, the moving more isn't the problem as much as the eating is. I found a diet in Health magazine to lose 5 lbs in 5 days so on Tuesday I start that. I say Tuesday because that will give me time to get to the store on Monday morning. It's got stuff I don't like on it but eating isn't for pleasure, right? Yeah, I know. That's my problem, too. I eat for pleasure.
Most of the holiday decor is up and 99.99% of the shopping is done. It was ALL done but my husband decided to up the budge for it, so I have more to do. Not much, which is good. I hate shopping and hate it even more over the holidays.
Indoor Lacrosse for my son starts this week and thus I'll be driving around town for a few hours a night a few nights a week again. Oh well, it could be worse. My daughter could be back in competition cheerleading. Yikes.
Oh, one more thing. Let's play a little google game here. I'm going to type a name here and see if it pulls up from google when I google it. Here it goes. "Gracie Ridder Aspenson".
Happy Thanksgiving! Pam, let's walk this week on my new greenway.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Sanding and Staining and Sneezing and Sniffling
This, it seems, is all I do lately.
Sand the walls. Paint. Sand the dining room table. Stain the dining room table. Sneeze (and out comes some lovely sawdust from the dining room table) and then sniffle. Sneeze and sniffle some more.
My kids go to school and TOUCH EVERYTHING. Then they stick their fingers in their mouths. Yes, even the one who is almost 18 and we consider the smart one. She's only doing it to bite her nails though but it still counts. They come home and I basically follow them around the house with a can of Lysol, spraying everything they touch and then what happens?
I GET THE COLD.
NyQuil has become my best friend. It's now 6 PM. Dinner is done. The kitchen is clean. I've helped my son study his vocabulary words. I've updated my Examiner.com article. I've taken a big ole' dose of NyQuil and hope to be asleep within the hour.
I'm starting to think that maybe taking NyQuil is better than sex. At least I fall asleep right after instead of staying up and planning the next day.
So off I go to lala land! Tomorrow is the last day of boot camp and I can barely move my arms from all of the sanding and staining so wish me luck!
Sand the walls. Paint. Sand the dining room table. Stain the dining room table. Sneeze (and out comes some lovely sawdust from the dining room table) and then sniffle. Sneeze and sniffle some more.
My kids go to school and TOUCH EVERYTHING. Then they stick their fingers in their mouths. Yes, even the one who is almost 18 and we consider the smart one. She's only doing it to bite her nails though but it still counts. They come home and I basically follow them around the house with a can of Lysol, spraying everything they touch and then what happens?
I GET THE COLD.
NyQuil has become my best friend. It's now 6 PM. Dinner is done. The kitchen is clean. I've helped my son study his vocabulary words. I've updated my Examiner.com article. I've taken a big ole' dose of NyQuil and hope to be asleep within the hour.
I'm starting to think that maybe taking NyQuil is better than sex. At least I fall asleep right after instead of staying up and planning the next day.
So off I go to lala land! Tomorrow is the last day of boot camp and I can barely move my arms from all of the sanding and staining so wish me luck!
Monday, November 9, 2009
The Start of My Book...
I've been working on this for years. It's that book everyone who wants to be a writer writes but can't seem to finish. This time, I'm finishing. My mom thought I wrote well. She clearly couldn't see through her bias but in her honor, I'm going to finish this. Here's a start to what I've already completed. Just wanted to share. I thought it might help motivate me to continue. (Another installment will be forthcoming...I have a lot of it written already but mind you, this is a DRAFT in progress...)
CHAPTER 1
As a little girl I dreamed of being a beautiful princess in a flowing gown of sparkling diamonds and rhinestones. My Prince was handsome, ingenuous and clearly adored me. Princesses spend life being doted on, never having to lift a finger. That life worked for me.
Sometimes dreams come true. Not this one. I’m more like Cinderella before the Fairy God Mother showed up. And my husband is no Prince. Case in point. We’re in the process of remodeling our all white, outdated kitchen. I’m shooting for a Tuscan look but my aim sucks. My husband of eleven years can’t help but rub it in.
“I feel like I’m drowning inside a French’s Mustard bottle.” Jake said.
“It’s supposed to be warm sun. It looked totally different in the magazine.”
“No worries, Carly. Toss in some prosciutto and mozzarella and you’ll have an Italian sub.”
No Prince here.
“You’re funny.” I stare at the can of mustard. “We should have gone with autumn breeze instead.”
Jake shrugs his shoulders and begins to clean up the paint supplies. “I’ll go back to the store and pick up the autumn breeze but we have to let this dry before we paint over it.”
“That’s fine. Sue’s coming over in a few minutes anyway. I told her I need her opinion on the color.”
“I’m sure she’ll have something enlightening to say,” he said, pounding the lid on the paint can.
“I told her I wanted her brutally honest opinion but now I’m not so sure.” Sometimes Sue’s mouth opens and things fly out before she can close it. Once I got hit with a partially chewed pea.
One cue, Sue Rowland, my best friend for the past five years, walks in through the garage door and stares at the yellow walls. “Wow. Suddenly I’m hungry. I’m thinking turkey on whole wheat.”
Jake stops pounding on the paint can. “Too late Sue, I already picked the mustard card. Try again.”
“Damn. I hate sloppy seconds. Okay, how about, whose baby crapped on your walls?”
“Oh my God, that’s it. Exactly.” Jake said.
I look closely at the walls but don’t see it. My kids never pooped mustard. Their poop was more like mashed green peas.
“I think the beige will look much better,” Sue said.
“It’s not beige. It’s autumn breeze.” I said.
“Autumn breeze. Beige. Whatever. As long as it’s not baby caca, it’ll look fine.”
Jake looks like he just won a bet. “I’m going to get the beige paint.” He pushes past the painting materials on the floor and leaves.
Sue sits at the kitchen table, picking on a dried food smudge with hot pink acrylic nails. “I’m bored. Let’s go to the coffee shop. ”
“I don’t feel like it. I’m frustrated. I need to do something physical. How about we go to Central Park and ride the off road trail and then get a coffee?”
Exercise to Sue is like going to the gynecologist. She only does it once a year. Or less, if possible. “Um, I’m thinking no. You forced me into that boot camp class last week and my thighs still burn so I’m good for a while.” She gets up from the table and heads for the door. “Call you later.”
Thirty minutes later I’m at Central Park unloading my bike from the back of my Expedition, ready to ride the three mile off road trail.
I like riding in the woods. The trees form a canopy over the trail letting the sun peak through just enough to see if I’m about to squash a snake. Squirrels dart onto the path, stuffing their fat cheeks with nuts then retreat quickly back into the trees. I feel like a foreigner in an unfamiliar country. I don’t belong here but they tolerate my visit.
The trail is nothing more than a break in ground cover with dirt as the base and a spattering of rocks and debris tossed around by animals, hikers and Mother Nature. Rounding my second mile I see a family of deer and slow down to get a better look. The fawns are closest but too busy munching on mini trees to notice me. The mother stands guard behind them, keeping a sharp eye pinned on me while the buck is further back, eating. The male-female dynamic is universal. The mother watches the kids while the father is off doing his thing. Her deep brown eyes fixate on me, silently warning me to stay clear. I coo happy sentences like, “You’re so pretty” and “Hi there mommy deer” but she doesn’t budge. I move on.
This trail has intense hills and twists but at a decent clip I can finish the three miles in about 30 minutes. If I don’t have to pee. Sometimes though, it’s like jumping on a trampoline a week after giving birth. Today all of the ups and downs kick my bladder into overdrive.
Sadly, my bladder never went back to normal after being pregnant. How could it? Take a five ton elephant and set it on top of a semi truck tire for nine months. Probably that’s what my bladder looked like after child birth and ten years later.
I jump off my bike, dodge the rocks and sticks covering the ground and head into the woods for a spot to squat. The smell of honeysuckle captures my nose and I’m tempted to pick a flower to suck its sweet nectar. Miniature sized Dogwoods bunched together with last season’s fallen leaves topped on a mound of dirt provide the perfect spot. I check behind me just in case. The key to peeing in the woods is in the positioning. I push my shorts down and balance my rear in a squat position. If I’m lucky, I won’t back splash.
I have a to-go roll of toilet paper but never seem to remember to put it in my pack. Searching the ground for something that won’t scrape up the sensitive skin of my unmentionables, I find a plump leaf to use instead. As I wipe, I notice something shiny under the leaves beside me. Curiosity may have killed the cat but it won’t stop me from waddling over, pants at my ankles. My balance is odd and I can’t help but fall on top of a pile of leaves and dirt, where the shiny something is sticking out of and that’s when I see it. A diamond ring. A gigantic diamond ring. And it’s still on the ring finger.
I am completely still for about five seconds and then it hits me. The sticky, sour smell of something so disgusting it makes the acid in my stomach rise to my throat. A sick curiosity forces me to move more leaves, revealing the body of a woman.
CHAPTER 1
As a little girl I dreamed of being a beautiful princess in a flowing gown of sparkling diamonds and rhinestones. My Prince was handsome, ingenuous and clearly adored me. Princesses spend life being doted on, never having to lift a finger. That life worked for me.
Sometimes dreams come true. Not this one. I’m more like Cinderella before the Fairy God Mother showed up. And my husband is no Prince. Case in point. We’re in the process of remodeling our all white, outdated kitchen. I’m shooting for a Tuscan look but my aim sucks. My husband of eleven years can’t help but rub it in.
“I feel like I’m drowning inside a French’s Mustard bottle.” Jake said.
“It’s supposed to be warm sun. It looked totally different in the magazine.”
“No worries, Carly. Toss in some prosciutto and mozzarella and you’ll have an Italian sub.”
No Prince here.
“You’re funny.” I stare at the can of mustard. “We should have gone with autumn breeze instead.”
Jake shrugs his shoulders and begins to clean up the paint supplies. “I’ll go back to the store and pick up the autumn breeze but we have to let this dry before we paint over it.”
“That’s fine. Sue’s coming over in a few minutes anyway. I told her I need her opinion on the color.”
“I’m sure she’ll have something enlightening to say,” he said, pounding the lid on the paint can.
“I told her I wanted her brutally honest opinion but now I’m not so sure.” Sometimes Sue’s mouth opens and things fly out before she can close it. Once I got hit with a partially chewed pea.
One cue, Sue Rowland, my best friend for the past five years, walks in through the garage door and stares at the yellow walls. “Wow. Suddenly I’m hungry. I’m thinking turkey on whole wheat.”
Jake stops pounding on the paint can. “Too late Sue, I already picked the mustard card. Try again.”
“Damn. I hate sloppy seconds. Okay, how about, whose baby crapped on your walls?”
“Oh my God, that’s it. Exactly.” Jake said.
I look closely at the walls but don’t see it. My kids never pooped mustard. Their poop was more like mashed green peas.
“I think the beige will look much better,” Sue said.
“It’s not beige. It’s autumn breeze.” I said.
“Autumn breeze. Beige. Whatever. As long as it’s not baby caca, it’ll look fine.”
Jake looks like he just won a bet. “I’m going to get the beige paint.” He pushes past the painting materials on the floor and leaves.
Sue sits at the kitchen table, picking on a dried food smudge with hot pink acrylic nails. “I’m bored. Let’s go to the coffee shop. ”
“I don’t feel like it. I’m frustrated. I need to do something physical. How about we go to Central Park and ride the off road trail and then get a coffee?”
Exercise to Sue is like going to the gynecologist. She only does it once a year. Or less, if possible. “Um, I’m thinking no. You forced me into that boot camp class last week and my thighs still burn so I’m good for a while.” She gets up from the table and heads for the door. “Call you later.”
Thirty minutes later I’m at Central Park unloading my bike from the back of my Expedition, ready to ride the three mile off road trail.
I like riding in the woods. The trees form a canopy over the trail letting the sun peak through just enough to see if I’m about to squash a snake. Squirrels dart onto the path, stuffing their fat cheeks with nuts then retreat quickly back into the trees. I feel like a foreigner in an unfamiliar country. I don’t belong here but they tolerate my visit.
The trail is nothing more than a break in ground cover with dirt as the base and a spattering of rocks and debris tossed around by animals, hikers and Mother Nature. Rounding my second mile I see a family of deer and slow down to get a better look. The fawns are closest but too busy munching on mini trees to notice me. The mother stands guard behind them, keeping a sharp eye pinned on me while the buck is further back, eating. The male-female dynamic is universal. The mother watches the kids while the father is off doing his thing. Her deep brown eyes fixate on me, silently warning me to stay clear. I coo happy sentences like, “You’re so pretty” and “Hi there mommy deer” but she doesn’t budge. I move on.
This trail has intense hills and twists but at a decent clip I can finish the three miles in about 30 minutes. If I don’t have to pee. Sometimes though, it’s like jumping on a trampoline a week after giving birth. Today all of the ups and downs kick my bladder into overdrive.
Sadly, my bladder never went back to normal after being pregnant. How could it? Take a five ton elephant and set it on top of a semi truck tire for nine months. Probably that’s what my bladder looked like after child birth and ten years later.
I jump off my bike, dodge the rocks and sticks covering the ground and head into the woods for a spot to squat. The smell of honeysuckle captures my nose and I’m tempted to pick a flower to suck its sweet nectar. Miniature sized Dogwoods bunched together with last season’s fallen leaves topped on a mound of dirt provide the perfect spot. I check behind me just in case. The key to peeing in the woods is in the positioning. I push my shorts down and balance my rear in a squat position. If I’m lucky, I won’t back splash.
I have a to-go roll of toilet paper but never seem to remember to put it in my pack. Searching the ground for something that won’t scrape up the sensitive skin of my unmentionables, I find a plump leaf to use instead. As I wipe, I notice something shiny under the leaves beside me. Curiosity may have killed the cat but it won’t stop me from waddling over, pants at my ankles. My balance is odd and I can’t help but fall on top of a pile of leaves and dirt, where the shiny something is sticking out of and that’s when I see it. A diamond ring. A gigantic diamond ring. And it’s still on the ring finger.
I am completely still for about five seconds and then it hits me. The sticky, sour smell of something so disgusting it makes the acid in my stomach rise to my throat. A sick curiosity forces me to move more leaves, revealing the body of a woman.
The Art of Contemplation...
Lately I’ve been sitting on my couch (bed, chair, toilet, whatever…) contemplating my life. Between of course, the kids fighting or whining at me or the dogs wanting to go out or come in. No, I’ve not given the whole “What should I do with my life?” thing a lot of continuous thought because I’m just plain busy. I’m a forty-something year old wife and mother but I like to call myself an Executive Charwoman, which is real life English is a professional servant. Some people would say I don’t need to contemplate my life. I have a life that’s just fine. I have a bang-up great guy for a husband and three kids who, when they aren’t driving me crazy are equally ‘da bomb’. I live in American suburbia; drive my Volvo and lunch with my friends on a regular basis…after I’ve finished my daily workout at the health club, that is. Yes, I have the life. What’s there to contemplate? Ha! I bet all of you Executive Chairwomen reading this are nodding your head, thinking the same thing that I’m thinking. There’s got to be more to life than this.
It’s not that I’m unhappy. Well, maybe for a few days out of the month (the same days I often tell my husband I want a divorce). But the fact of the matter is, I’m happy. Happiness isn’t my issue. Content on the other hand…content poses a bit of a problem. The angel of contentment has been floating around my life like a lightening bug. I try and try to catch her and when I think I’ve got her trapped in my hands, I open them up and she’s not there. She’s simply out of reach. Personally, I think she’s mocking me. Flying around in clear view sticking her tongue out and laughing. “You can’t have me! You can’t have me!” I mean, come on! How rude is that?
So today I’m sitting at Starbucks (something else most Executive Charwomen do) listening to a very attractive woman give me her network marketing spiel, telling me how much she loves her company, how all of her team members are just tres fabulous and that if I’d just give the company a chance I’d find my passion and be rich at the same time! Sign me up! I want to have passion (outside of the bedroom or the bathroom that is)! I want to be rich! Show me the passion and the money and I’ll show you one content Executive Charwoman! But am I really going to find my passion in a nice shiny but light bronzer? I’m thinking no. Needless to say, I didn’t sign up. That’s another $29 I’ve saved my husband today, thank you very much. Never say I can’t save money when I want to.
I’ve been so desperate to figure out my life I even bought a self-help book to help. The Success Principles: How to Get from Where You Are to Where You Want to Be. In the first chapter it tells you to define your life’s purpose. Once you’ve done that you can move on to chapters two, three and finally to the end of the book where you’ve done each and every thing the book’s detailed and in only 64 chapters you’ve reached all of your goals and are living the life you’ve always dreamed! I’ve had the book for over a year now and I still haven’t made it past chapter one. Everyone’s gotta have a life’s purpose. The problem is figuring out what the hell mine is.
I’m still on the path to discovering myself. I thought I’d done that when I had a great career, traveled often, worked out daily and weighed a whopping 107 lbs soaking wet. Life was good. I was past the bar stage, wasn’t really interested in dating and honestly felt I would never get married. With that thought in mind I decided it was time to stop paying someone else for my housing and start paying a larger establishment; Chase Bank. With the purchase of my quaint little townhouse in a small community full of old people (I hate hearing the loud banging of my neighbors stereo so old people worked well…I just had to listen to endless repeats of Matlock if I stayed home during the day), I felt it was time to trade in the old pink, mauve and gray floral furniture so popular in the early 80’s for something more ‘single woman pretending she’s not a spinster’-like. And this is where my life began its warp speed change.
Wouldn’t it be my luck…while walking into the furniture store an incredibly attractive man with the tightest little buns I’ve ever seen walked by me. (Really now, how many good looking men with nice butts are there in the world? Was it fate one just happened to walk right by me at that exact moment? I think so.) We both just about broke our necks looking at each other. The next thing I knew it was four months later, we were engaged and I was living with him and his two very young daughters. Oh, and I was pregnant. We still have that damn townhouse and I still feel sad when I think that I only lived in it for four months!
Fast forward eight years later and fifteen pounds heavier and now I’m out of the professional world and rarely travel to anything but cheerleading competitions in places like Chattanooga, TN and Macon, GA. I still workout every day but the life I have now and the life I had then are vastly different. Things happen on a daily basis that make me look up to the sky and scream, “Are you kidding me? I did not sign up for this!”
And still, I contemplate my life, searching for its purpose. While doing ten loads of laundry and giving the dogs their allergy pills in pieces of cheese.
It’s not that I’m unhappy. Well, maybe for a few days out of the month (the same days I often tell my husband I want a divorce). But the fact of the matter is, I’m happy. Happiness isn’t my issue. Content on the other hand…content poses a bit of a problem. The angel of contentment has been floating around my life like a lightening bug. I try and try to catch her and when I think I’ve got her trapped in my hands, I open them up and she’s not there. She’s simply out of reach. Personally, I think she’s mocking me. Flying around in clear view sticking her tongue out and laughing. “You can’t have me! You can’t have me!” I mean, come on! How rude is that?
So today I’m sitting at Starbucks (something else most Executive Charwomen do) listening to a very attractive woman give me her network marketing spiel, telling me how much she loves her company, how all of her team members are just tres fabulous and that if I’d just give the company a chance I’d find my passion and be rich at the same time! Sign me up! I want to have passion (outside of the bedroom or the bathroom that is)! I want to be rich! Show me the passion and the money and I’ll show you one content Executive Charwoman! But am I really going to find my passion in a nice shiny but light bronzer? I’m thinking no. Needless to say, I didn’t sign up. That’s another $29 I’ve saved my husband today, thank you very much. Never say I can’t save money when I want to.
I’ve been so desperate to figure out my life I even bought a self-help book to help. The Success Principles: How to Get from Where You Are to Where You Want to Be. In the first chapter it tells you to define your life’s purpose. Once you’ve done that you can move on to chapters two, three and finally to the end of the book where you’ve done each and every thing the book’s detailed and in only 64 chapters you’ve reached all of your goals and are living the life you’ve always dreamed! I’ve had the book for over a year now and I still haven’t made it past chapter one. Everyone’s gotta have a life’s purpose. The problem is figuring out what the hell mine is.
I’m still on the path to discovering myself. I thought I’d done that when I had a great career, traveled often, worked out daily and weighed a whopping 107 lbs soaking wet. Life was good. I was past the bar stage, wasn’t really interested in dating and honestly felt I would never get married. With that thought in mind I decided it was time to stop paying someone else for my housing and start paying a larger establishment; Chase Bank. With the purchase of my quaint little townhouse in a small community full of old people (I hate hearing the loud banging of my neighbors stereo so old people worked well…I just had to listen to endless repeats of Matlock if I stayed home during the day), I felt it was time to trade in the old pink, mauve and gray floral furniture so popular in the early 80’s for something more ‘single woman pretending she’s not a spinster’-like. And this is where my life began its warp speed change.
Wouldn’t it be my luck…while walking into the furniture store an incredibly attractive man with the tightest little buns I’ve ever seen walked by me. (Really now, how many good looking men with nice butts are there in the world? Was it fate one just happened to walk right by me at that exact moment? I think so.) We both just about broke our necks looking at each other. The next thing I knew it was four months later, we were engaged and I was living with him and his two very young daughters. Oh, and I was pregnant. We still have that damn townhouse and I still feel sad when I think that I only lived in it for four months!
Fast forward eight years later and fifteen pounds heavier and now I’m out of the professional world and rarely travel to anything but cheerleading competitions in places like Chattanooga, TN and Macon, GA. I still workout every day but the life I have now and the life I had then are vastly different. Things happen on a daily basis that make me look up to the sky and scream, “Are you kidding me? I did not sign up for this!”
And still, I contemplate my life, searching for its purpose. While doing ten loads of laundry and giving the dogs their allergy pills in pieces of cheese.
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Letting the Chips Fall Where They May for My Teenage Daughter...
I have found that as I grow older, I become wiser. Most people do. Yes, it's a strange statement to make but I'm not sure I mean it in the way you're probably thinking. For me, it means a lot has left the wishy-washy arena and entered into the reality of black and white. Or, it either is or it isn't. And even, it is what it is. For me, there's very little sitting on the fence anymore.
Part of this is because I'm smarter with age and the other part is because I lack patience but in a good way. Okay, truth be told, I lack patience in the not so good way too but for this conversation, I mean it in a good way.
Sitting on the fence and seeing things outside of the arena of black and white means there are too many feelings involved in whatever it is I'm dealing with. Frankly, unless the feelings are mine, I don't particularly always want to deal with them nor do I always give a crap about them either. Hey, I never said I was sensitive! Seriously though, think of it this way...you're either pro-choice or pro-life. You can't be one until your teenage daughter gets pregnant and then change sides. If you do, you've fooled yourself for all those years thinking you were the other when actually, you really weren't. If you choose neither side it's because you're either waiting for that possibility and 'just in case' something happens, you don't want to be called a hypocrite or stand up for something...emotions, if you ask me.
Lately we've been struggling with one of our daughters. She's a wonderful child and has a heart made of gold. She, however, makes a conscious decision to take the easiest road in every aspect of her life and sadly, most of the time it gets her nowhere except maybe two steps back. She's currently doing poorly in school and instead of owning up to the facts, she finds excuses and reasons and blame and flat out lies. She's lied so much over the past few months I'm pretty sure she doesn't even know she's lying. About everything and anything. She is the queen of telling you what she thinks you want to hear and dealing with the consequences later.
For years we've dealt with issues with this child and this year the light bulb went off over my head. I realized there's nothing wrong with her (yes, she's been to doctors, therapists, on meds, diet controlled, etc.). She simply is that kid that doesn't give a crap. About much of anything. I realized that all of the consequences in the world I can give her will do nothing...have done nothing. Except of course, make the rest of us miserable.
We've spent night after night in emotional meltdown hell for hours on end to no avail. Nothing works. We've taken away privileges and rewarded for good behavior and done everything every book out there says. One Two Three Magic is a farce, by the way but don't get me started on that book. Nothing has worked and it doesn't matter how much we try, she continues to lie to our faces, even when the proof is right there in front of her. She continues to not do what she's supposed to do and finds ways, when caught, to make it someone Else's fault.
I'm tired of dealing with the emotions and the lies and the stress. I'm tired of my family having to accommodate her emotional sensitivities and I'm tired of our lives being disrupted daily because she chooses to do what she does. If you don't do homework, you won't pass a class. If you don't pay your cell phone bill, you don't get your cell phone, etc.
I finally realized that nothing we do makes any difference so everything we do just makes the situation worse. With that light bulb, I've decided to do nothing. I'm not arguing. I'm not encouraging. I'm not babysitting. I'm not suggesting, reminding, supporting, defining, catching, watching, asking, proving. I'm simply letting her make her own decisions and letting the chips fall as they may.
After all, it is what it is. (See how I finally tied that first paragraph or two into this blog?)
I can continue to be frustrated and do all that I've done or I can let natural consequences take their course. It seems to me if anything is going to work, it's not going to with the veil of protection a parent provides when trying to stop their child from failing. Instead, I'm going to let her fail. She has to learn that the world doesn't bend for us, we have to bend for it and the only way she's going to learn that is if we step back and let the world works its magic.
I would much rather my daughter learn this now then when she's 22 and trying our the world on her own for the first time.
Will this work? I don't know. It may not. Odds are it probably won't. It could be very likely that this child is the one who we define success by when she gets a full time job at the grocery store and can afford a small studio apartment. Can she do better? Certainly. She's smart. She's just lazy. Does she want better? Absolutely. She just wants everyone else to do the work for her.
Things are much more pleasant around our house right now. I'm not pushing. She's not pushing back. She's still lying about the few things I do call her out on (because some of them are necessary) but she knows it's all up to her now. She's out of district at her high school and the principal has told her that if she doesn't improve her grades, she's going back to the other school where she knows no one. I've also told her that she has to bring her grades up. I've explained that if she chooses not to, then she will definitely go to the other school (in case the principal caves) because I will not drive and pick her up every day if she is not going to live up to her end of the bargain.
Relationships are a give and take and it's time she starts doing some of the giving and does the right thing.
It's black and white to me. She is either going to do it or she's not. She doesn't have a learning disability. She's got all of the tools she needs to succeed but she chooses not to use them. Had she turned in her homework, she would not be failing one of her classes but she didn't do any of the assignments. She is capable and has to make the decision on her own. If this means she spends an extra year in HS then she'll have to do that but she will also be paying us rent. She gets four years in HS like the other two in our house. If she can't finish in that time frame then she's responsible for supporting herself and contributing to this home.
Life is hard. She'll figure that out eventually. But I can't be wishy-washy about it and continue to be emotional. Instead, I'm on my side of the fence...the side that practices tough love and lets her learn from her mistakes, even those that are going to impact her future long term is she makes them. Nothing else has worked and it now simply is what it is.
Part of this is because I'm smarter with age and the other part is because I lack patience but in a good way. Okay, truth be told, I lack patience in the not so good way too but for this conversation, I mean it in a good way.
Sitting on the fence and seeing things outside of the arena of black and white means there are too many feelings involved in whatever it is I'm dealing with. Frankly, unless the feelings are mine, I don't particularly always want to deal with them nor do I always give a crap about them either. Hey, I never said I was sensitive! Seriously though, think of it this way...you're either pro-choice or pro-life. You can't be one until your teenage daughter gets pregnant and then change sides. If you do, you've fooled yourself for all those years thinking you were the other when actually, you really weren't. If you choose neither side it's because you're either waiting for that possibility and 'just in case' something happens, you don't want to be called a hypocrite or stand up for something...emotions, if you ask me.
Lately we've been struggling with one of our daughters. She's a wonderful child and has a heart made of gold. She, however, makes a conscious decision to take the easiest road in every aspect of her life and sadly, most of the time it gets her nowhere except maybe two steps back. She's currently doing poorly in school and instead of owning up to the facts, she finds excuses and reasons and blame and flat out lies. She's lied so much over the past few months I'm pretty sure she doesn't even know she's lying. About everything and anything. She is the queen of telling you what she thinks you want to hear and dealing with the consequences later.
For years we've dealt with issues with this child and this year the light bulb went off over my head. I realized there's nothing wrong with her (yes, she's been to doctors, therapists, on meds, diet controlled, etc.). She simply is that kid that doesn't give a crap. About much of anything. I realized that all of the consequences in the world I can give her will do nothing...have done nothing. Except of course, make the rest of us miserable.
We've spent night after night in emotional meltdown hell for hours on end to no avail. Nothing works. We've taken away privileges and rewarded for good behavior and done everything every book out there says. One Two Three Magic is a farce, by the way but don't get me started on that book. Nothing has worked and it doesn't matter how much we try, she continues to lie to our faces, even when the proof is right there in front of her. She continues to not do what she's supposed to do and finds ways, when caught, to make it someone Else's fault.
I'm tired of dealing with the emotions and the lies and the stress. I'm tired of my family having to accommodate her emotional sensitivities and I'm tired of our lives being disrupted daily because she chooses to do what she does. If you don't do homework, you won't pass a class. If you don't pay your cell phone bill, you don't get your cell phone, etc.
I finally realized that nothing we do makes any difference so everything we do just makes the situation worse. With that light bulb, I've decided to do nothing. I'm not arguing. I'm not encouraging. I'm not babysitting. I'm not suggesting, reminding, supporting, defining, catching, watching, asking, proving. I'm simply letting her make her own decisions and letting the chips fall as they may.
After all, it is what it is. (See how I finally tied that first paragraph or two into this blog?)
I can continue to be frustrated and do all that I've done or I can let natural consequences take their course. It seems to me if anything is going to work, it's not going to with the veil of protection a parent provides when trying to stop their child from failing. Instead, I'm going to let her fail. She has to learn that the world doesn't bend for us, we have to bend for it and the only way she's going to learn that is if we step back and let the world works its magic.
I would much rather my daughter learn this now then when she's 22 and trying our the world on her own for the first time.
Will this work? I don't know. It may not. Odds are it probably won't. It could be very likely that this child is the one who we define success by when she gets a full time job at the grocery store and can afford a small studio apartment. Can she do better? Certainly. She's smart. She's just lazy. Does she want better? Absolutely. She just wants everyone else to do the work for her.
Things are much more pleasant around our house right now. I'm not pushing. She's not pushing back. She's still lying about the few things I do call her out on (because some of them are necessary) but she knows it's all up to her now. She's out of district at her high school and the principal has told her that if she doesn't improve her grades, she's going back to the other school where she knows no one. I've also told her that she has to bring her grades up. I've explained that if she chooses not to, then she will definitely go to the other school (in case the principal caves) because I will not drive and pick her up every day if she is not going to live up to her end of the bargain.
Relationships are a give and take and it's time she starts doing some of the giving and does the right thing.
It's black and white to me. She is either going to do it or she's not. She doesn't have a learning disability. She's got all of the tools she needs to succeed but she chooses not to use them. Had she turned in her homework, she would not be failing one of her classes but she didn't do any of the assignments. She is capable and has to make the decision on her own. If this means she spends an extra year in HS then she'll have to do that but she will also be paying us rent. She gets four years in HS like the other two in our house. If she can't finish in that time frame then she's responsible for supporting herself and contributing to this home.
Life is hard. She'll figure that out eventually. But I can't be wishy-washy about it and continue to be emotional. Instead, I'm on my side of the fence...the side that practices tough love and lets her learn from her mistakes, even those that are going to impact her future long term is she makes them. Nothing else has worked and it now simply is what it is.
Friday, November 6, 2009
I'm Back...but who knows for how long?
Wow. I hadn't realized it's been since September 18th since I've posted on this thing. I guess I've either been really, really busy (probably not) or simply have nothing to say. Which, truth be told, seems unlikely for someone like me.
I do have several things I'd like to touch on so have a seat, grab a cup of coffee and be prepared to be un-wowed.
First and foremost, I would like to tell whomever it is that is associated with my husband and reads my blog to back the ______ off. What I write on this thing is NOT going to impact him starting his new business and being successful. If there is anyone out there that has a family and is the spouse of a person starting a new business in this economy and ISN'T worried, tell me what drugs you're taking because I think you're onto something. Come on buddy, it's NATURAL to be stressed when starting a new business and it's natural for a spouse to be stressed also. But I find it incredibly hard to believe that Carolyn's little old blog that gets, what? Ten readers on a good day, is going to impact the success of his efforts. Plus, if someone is going to read this and then not do business with my husband because of it, so be it. We don't need idiots like that in our lives.
Oh my, I see I took my happy pill today!
Now that I'm done venting about that, let's move on.
I have been focusing on working out and spending time in two, yes, two boot camps for a total of four days a week. I haven't done much of anything and went overboard which put my poor, surgically altered back into an upheaval. It shouted out at me to stop for a few days, which I did. Finally got back after a two day rest and then my arm and shoulder issues decided it was their turn. My arm/shoulder has been bothering me all day today but I decided to go ahead and sand the dining room table anyway. I have decided that yes, I can rest and deal with the pain but if I continue to stop what I'm doing because of it, I'll never get anything done. Nothing a little Aleve and Icy Hot can't cure. Right?
I had my friend S come to visit recently. S has been a good friend of mine, well, actually, more than that, for years. I'm pushing 43 and we've been friends since I was 12. We talk a lot, most of the time on an almost daily basis but talking on the phone and spending time together are two different things. Or they can be in most relationships. In ours, it isn't and honestly, that fascinates me. We fall right back into that friendship thing and it just feels good. It's like 'home', for lack of a better word. I can be me in all of my glory (no, people! I'm not talking naked here!) and there is no fear that she won't love me anyway. It's very rare to have friendships like that and I suspect part of the reason we do is because we've been friends for so long. I cherish that friendship and am thankful for it.
Speaking of friends, I did get to see another friend recently, too. My WT (nickname)lives in VA and I went out at the beginning of October to visit her. How fun! This situation is a bit different because while we went to HS together, we didn't know each other and for us to spend time together, in her house for a few days, was risky. I personally think it went well, though I'm wondering why she hasn't called since. Okay, just kidding! Sometimes there are people that you just hit it off with and my WT is one of them. I'm not sure how that happened but I am glad it did and I'm pretty sure if she lived here, I'd be stalking her on a regular basis to hang out with me. She's probably very lucky she's in VA.
Things that currently make me happy:
1. Peppermint Mochas are back (though I've yet to have one, so so far, so good!)
2. Eastwick. Great show but who knew RR was so tall?
3. Jonathan Jackson is back as Lucky on GH. Love me some JJ.
4. Everyone on Cougar Town but Courtney Cox.
5. I'm getting better sleep.
6. Left over Halloween candy.
7. My son, almost 11, still wanting to snuggle every night.
8. Catching up with old friends on Facebook.
9. Listening to Journey's Greatest Hits and still thinking that Steve Perry is the greatest singer, ever.
10. Having almost finished re-doing the dining room.
11. My dogs feet that smell like Fritos.
There's more to say but I need to organize my thoughts and get into a more humorous
mindset. When I do, I'll write more. Sorry, Pam!
I do have several things I'd like to touch on so have a seat, grab a cup of coffee and be prepared to be un-wowed.
First and foremost, I would like to tell whomever it is that is associated with my husband and reads my blog to back the ______ off. What I write on this thing is NOT going to impact him starting his new business and being successful. If there is anyone out there that has a family and is the spouse of a person starting a new business in this economy and ISN'T worried, tell me what drugs you're taking because I think you're onto something. Come on buddy, it's NATURAL to be stressed when starting a new business and it's natural for a spouse to be stressed also. But I find it incredibly hard to believe that Carolyn's little old blog that gets, what? Ten readers on a good day, is going to impact the success of his efforts. Plus, if someone is going to read this and then not do business with my husband because of it, so be it. We don't need idiots like that in our lives.
Oh my, I see I took my happy pill today!
Now that I'm done venting about that, let's move on.
I have been focusing on working out and spending time in two, yes, two boot camps for a total of four days a week. I haven't done much of anything and went overboard which put my poor, surgically altered back into an upheaval. It shouted out at me to stop for a few days, which I did. Finally got back after a two day rest and then my arm and shoulder issues decided it was their turn. My arm/shoulder has been bothering me all day today but I decided to go ahead and sand the dining room table anyway. I have decided that yes, I can rest and deal with the pain but if I continue to stop what I'm doing because of it, I'll never get anything done. Nothing a little Aleve and Icy Hot can't cure. Right?
I had my friend S come to visit recently. S has been a good friend of mine, well, actually, more than that, for years. I'm pushing 43 and we've been friends since I was 12. We talk a lot, most of the time on an almost daily basis but talking on the phone and spending time together are two different things. Or they can be in most relationships. In ours, it isn't and honestly, that fascinates me. We fall right back into that friendship thing and it just feels good. It's like 'home', for lack of a better word. I can be me in all of my glory (no, people! I'm not talking naked here!) and there is no fear that she won't love me anyway. It's very rare to have friendships like that and I suspect part of the reason we do is because we've been friends for so long. I cherish that friendship and am thankful for it.
Speaking of friends, I did get to see another friend recently, too. My WT (nickname)lives in VA and I went out at the beginning of October to visit her. How fun! This situation is a bit different because while we went to HS together, we didn't know each other and for us to spend time together, in her house for a few days, was risky. I personally think it went well, though I'm wondering why she hasn't called since. Okay, just kidding! Sometimes there are people that you just hit it off with and my WT is one of them. I'm not sure how that happened but I am glad it did and I'm pretty sure if she lived here, I'd be stalking her on a regular basis to hang out with me. She's probably very lucky she's in VA.
Things that currently make me happy:
1. Peppermint Mochas are back (though I've yet to have one, so so far, so good!)
2. Eastwick. Great show but who knew RR was so tall?
3. Jonathan Jackson is back as Lucky on GH. Love me some JJ.
4. Everyone on Cougar Town but Courtney Cox.
5. I'm getting better sleep.
6. Left over Halloween candy.
7. My son, almost 11, still wanting to snuggle every night.
8. Catching up with old friends on Facebook.
9. Listening to Journey's Greatest Hits and still thinking that Steve Perry is the greatest singer, ever.
10. Having almost finished re-doing the dining room.
11. My dogs feet that smell like Fritos.
There's more to say but I need to organize my thoughts and get into a more humorous
mindset. When I do, I'll write more. Sorry, Pam!
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