Mothers May 11, 2008

Like many people, I have been thinking about mothers and motherhood today. I love my mother and enjoy spending time with her. Although I’ve always loved my mother, we’ve become closer in the last few years and I’m so grateful for that. Unfortunately it was the death of my father that created an opportunity for our closer relationship. Don’t get me wrong, I also love my father dearly and he did nothing to purposely prevent my mother me from creating a great relationship. It’s just that my parents were very dedicated to each other and that tended to exclude others. My father had many health issues (3 heart attacks, quadruple bypass surgery, and TWO heart transplants) and it was my mother who was always there for him. The consequence of that was that other people in their lives tended to feel sidelined. After my father passed away, I was here to give my mother someone on whom to lean (although she’s not so good at being the receiving of care!) and a wonderful friendship has grown from that.

 

I will never be a mother in the biological sense and I’m OK with that. I was diagnosed with cancer when I was 30 and the treatment left me unable to give birth. I went through a mourning period and I felt oddly “unwomanly”, but I’ve worked through that and know it’s for the best.

 

Just because I can’t give birth to a child doesn’t mean I don’t get to mother, though. I find myself mothering my friends when they need it and treat my dog-daughter, Daisy, like I gave birth to her. I didn’t create a life to add to the world, but I do create beautiful art for the world to enjoy. I’ve also begun to learn how important it is to mother myself and I’m working on getting better at that.

 

So, happy Mother’s Day to my wonderful mother, happy Mother’s Day to you, and happy Mother’s Day to me! 

Anger May 9, 2008

I haven’t written in a while because I just haven’t been that inspired by anything. But I read a couple of posts on other blogs about how people express their anger and it got me thinking. At the moment I don’t remember exactly where I read these things so I’m not going to provide links, but I think that will be OK because I’m pretty sure Mrs. Chili is my only visitor and she’s already read the sources. Hey, Mrs. C!

 

First of all, I have to admit that I have anger issues. I’m not proud of it and it certainly has caused me many problems, but that’s the way it is. I harbor two distinctly different methods of anger expression and they both are generally inappropriate and troublesome. And unpredictable.

 

I have just started scratching the surface of my anger dysfunctions, but this is what I have surmised so far: I either completely overreact and become explosive or I clam up and retreat. My pattern seems to be that if I’m angry about something non-personal (like poor customer service, for example), I’m likely to overreact and become somewhat unreasonable. I don’t get abusive - I’m not the person who yells and swears at the rep on the phone, but I do raise my voice and I am very demanding. Sometimes I find myself even orchestrating situations so I can feel justified about my anger. For instance, if I feel anger building up and want to feel somewhat OK about expressing it, I’ll create a situation in which the other person ends up doing something I know will provoke me to express my anger. It’s a fun little game that no one else realizes they’re playing. I know, very unhealthy behavior.

 

If I am angry at a friend I am more likely to clam up, leave, or hang up on him/her. I know, I know, it is very aggravating to have someone hang up on you but I tend to react to my anger before thinking things through. But withdrawing is just the beginning of the “come and get me” game in which I like to engage. Unfortunately everyone in my life has the philosophy that if someone is angry they should just be left alone to cool off. Oh I hate that. They are supposed to draw me out and convince me to tell them why I’m angry, silly people. I’m sure I do that so that a) it feels safer to express my anger because they are dragging it out of me and b) it helps reduce the chance that they will react in anger because either they’re focused on my feelings or they just get too tired to care by the end of it all. Kinda makes you wonder how I even have friends, doesn’t it? My life certainly used to be more drama-filled, but I find as my friends and I get older, we rarely fight because we navigate things better. But that doesn’t mean I can ignore my dysfunction, as much as I would like to.

 

I’m sure part of the reason I react so differently in these different situations is that it’s less scary to express my anger to a stranger than to a loved one, but I know there’s more to it than that. I also know that shutting down when I’m angry with a friend causes far more problems than if I would have voiced my anger. Yet I still do it. And you know what? That makes me angry. I have much more work to do in this area and maybe soon I’ll have the courage to investigate further. I also have depression issues and I know that depression is anger turned inward, so I’m sure I have a long and difficult journey of introspection ahead of me. All things considered, I’d much rather go to Vegas.

If Not You, Then Who? May 1, 2008

You know what I love most about calling my health insurance company? Nope, it’s not punching in my account number, group number, social security number, and zip code using my touch tone keypad THREE FLIPPIN’ TIMES only to have to repeat all that information when I finally reach a person. It also is not the lovely audio loop of a commercial for their company you have to listen to 11.5 times while waiting for said person. Although at this point I must interject that I don’t understand the purpose of the commercial when the only people calling that particular phone number are already customers, but perhaps it’s some sort of preemptive campaign because they know they’re going to piss you off during the call and they hope to save a step and convince you to come back during the same call. Anyway, back to the topic. After all the number pushing and subliminal advertising you finally are routed to someone who sounds like she would rather have all her body hairs pulled out one by one than answer your call. And has lived in the deep south for 200 years. And is in the habit of trying to hold several marbles in her mouth as she talks. But that’s not my favorite part either.

 

Nope, although all of those experiences are tiny slices of heaven, my most favorite part of calling my insurance company is that before they attempt to answer each of your questions they remind you that everything they say could be completely untrue. I LOVE that! Life would be so much easier if I started using that disclaimer.

 

They tell you to call them to verify if services are covered, but when you call they tell you that just because one of their employees told you something would be covered you could still receive a hospital bill for $40,000.00. Apparently the insurance industry believes strongly in take-backs and do-overs. I would love to work for a company that isn’t concerned with pesky expectations like accuracy and good service. I mean, they’re basically saying right off the bat that they don’t really understand their own policies enough to answer your questions accurately and/or either the people who answer the phones or the people who process the claims aren’t smart enough to do their jobs correctly. That must provide them with an amazing sense of freedom!

 

I always want to ask, after they mumble their disclaimer, “Then who SHOULD I ask?” I mean, is there a soothsayer sitting on the top of some mountain who is able to provide an accurate answer? Should I look for some sort of insurance prophet or prognosticator? Or, when I receive an unexpected hospital bill, should I tell them I need a do-over?

Create Your Own Reality April 29, 2008

I just read a great list of rules for life over at Mrs. Chili’s place that I really like. Things like that, however, always leave me with a mixed bag of feelings. Of course it’s inspiring and makes me want to be a better person, but it also makes me feel stupid and regretful for not handling things better.

 

The gist of her post is that you create your own reality and you can choose how you respond to what you encounter in your life. I completely believe that and know it to be true. But knowing something and doing something are two very different things.  I am much, much, MUCH more likely to respond to people and events with negative thoughts than positive thoughts. If I am successful at being positive, it typically lasts about a millisecond. I have struggled with clinical depression since I was a child but I know I can’t use that as an excuse. Well, I can, but that wouldn’t get me anywhere. And of course one way to battle depression is to modify your thoughts so that you experience more positive emotions. Yep, it’s pretty much a “chicken and the egg” kind of thing.

 

What I want to know is — does it get any easier? If I struggle every minute of the day to be positive, will it start getting easier so it isn’t such a struggle? Or is it just innately more difficult for some people than others and so it might always be at least somewhat of a battle for some of us?

Hey! Where’s My Stuf?! April 22, 2008

When I was just a wee lassie my parents kept our cookie jar  (yes, we actually had a cookie jar… do people still use those?) filled with Oreos. If we wanted something sweet we could choose between Oreos and Little Debbie Snacks (Nutty Bars or Swiss Cake Rolls). I always wished my mom would buy the Double Stuf Oreos but she would return from the store each time with the regular Oreos containing the regular amount of Stuf. Only on very special occasions would she relent and buy the good ones. I remember the first time I drove to the store and bought my very own Double Stuf Oreos. Oh yeah, there’s nothing like an extra serving of sugared lard in your cookie.

 

It had been years since I had eaten an Oreo but they seemed to call to me when I was in the store last week. Of course I was going to go for the Double Stuf because I don’t usually get my average daily allowance of lard. The first thing I noticed is that they are no longer packaged in bright pink plastic. Then I sat down to eat some cookies and what I saw was horrific - there is NOWHERE NEAR as much Stuf as there used to be. I think calling them Double Stuf is false advertising. Maybe One and a Half Stuf, but I think even that is pushing it.

 

I can’t take it. Global warming, economic recession, mortgage crisis, cheating politicians - those all pale in comparison to the Great Lard Crisis of 2008. We can’t take this kind of treatment, people! Maybe I’ll organize a march on Washington … 

Another One Bites the Dust April 19, 2008

In high school I, like most people, had a few crushes. I recall many hours spent in class gazing adoringly on the objects of my affection. Generally these imaginary love affairs were lavished on the funny and talented boys in choir or play practice. At the time I was attracted to the artsy, sensitive type (I now tend to favor the more strong, silent type for some reason) and there were a few who were my favorites.

 

Reed was my age and pretty hunky. He was in choir and he did a little bit in theatre. He was just one of those really nice guys but he dated a girl who I thought was kind of a bitch. More than just a crush, I considered him a friend and I was there for him one night when that girl hurt him. After that we remained close friends until graduation. I found out a few years after graduation that he’s gay. I blame that bitchy girl.

 

My biggest crush, and first case of puppy love, was Mike. Oh, how I loved him. He was a year ahead of me but so nice and friendly that I immediately felt at ease with him (except for those butterflies in my stomach). He was super funny and very talented. And cute as could be. He was involved in music and theatre and during one particular musical I had the opportunity to get to know him and I fell hard. His father was a math teacher and actually grew up next door to my mother and they were friends throughout childhood. I figured that with that kind of history it must be kismet. One Valentine’s Day we went to see “The Color Purple” and I mustered up the courage to kiss him. Pure magic. He went to Columbia for a year and sent me a handmade Christmas card that made my heart sing. I found out a few years later that he’s gay. Beginning to see a pattern?

 

And then there was Jake. He was also a year ahead of me, talented, funny, tall, and cute. And he danced. He was involved in choir and somewhat in theatre. I actually got to sit next to him in choir for a while and I was SO nervous. He wasn’t a snob but he definitely sent out a vibe that was intimidating so he wasn’t overly approachable. We spoke to each other because our paths crossed so often, but unlike Mike and Reed, I considered him just an acquaintance rather than a friend. Because of that, if we shared a joke or short conversation in choir I was walking on air the rest of the day. I knew many girls who had crushes on Jake who, like me, were tickled whenever he paid the slightest bit of attention to them. But, Jake announced on his blog today that he is officially off the market because he got married. To a man, of course.

 

When I look back I realize that the common denominator here is ME. If I didn’t know better (and I DO know better - homosexuality is a hard-wired trait like blue eyes, brown hair, or big feet) I would start to worry about my effect on men.

Color Me Stupid April 17, 2008

Thank heaven for mothers.

 

I have puppy class with my darling Daisy every Monday evening to help her learn some manners (although I suspect she thinks it is a time set aside for HER to train ME). I had to stop at the pet store to pick up a martingale collar before class last Monday so I was trying to get the two of us out the door early. I packed the necessities for class in a bag and decided I didn’t want to have to deal with carrying my purse while Daisy drags me around by “my” leash so I just threw my wallet in the bag and headed to the door. I turned the lock on the doorknob and pulled the door shut behind us; and as soon as I heard the “click” I realized my mistake. Oh yeah, the keys were still inside in my purse.

 

Crap!! So there I was standing on my deck, locked out of my house and my car with a bag of dog class stuff and a ridiculously joyous puppy anxious to set out on our adventure. F**k me!

 

Knowing my propensity for dumb moves, when I moved into my house last June I gave my mother a spare key. But here’s the    thing - getting that key would involve going to a neighbor’s house to use a phone (if you’re going to be dumb you may as well do it right - my cell phone was in the house, too) and ask my mother to drive over to my house with the key. There are a couple worrisome aspects to those two things. First of all, I’m not a big believer in being nicey-nicey to my neighbors. The fact that we live in close proximity to each other is merely a coincidence and not necessarily a foundation for a close friendship. Don’t get me wrong, I’m civil and will say “hello” in return to their greeting, but unless we find some real reason to become friends, that will be about as far as I will go. Pretty much I just try to pretend they don’t exist (which can be very difficult considering their interest in LOUD music and producing LOUD, SCREAMING demons children). Second of all, I know at that time of day my mother would be settling in to watch her PBS shows. She also thinks the 7 miles between us is far.

 

So I look at the window and wonder how much it would cost to have it replaced if I broke it. And I push on the door to see if maybe it didn’t completely catch and will open with a little coaxing. Then I looked at the window again. Finally I faced facts and trudged over to a neighbor’s house. Luckily my mother was home, wasn’t on the phone or computer, and was in a good mood.

 

I sat on the deck steps and proceeded to chastise and berate myself for making such a stupid mistake. Aargh! I hate it when I make bonehead moves like that.

 

Does anyone know where to buy those fake rocks in which you can hide a key?

Not Cool April 12, 2008

I think there is some grave misunderstanding about me in the universe somewhere. Or else I am vastly underestimating my coolness, but that’s doubtful. Almost every day my mailbox delivers at least one new catalog from a company I’ve never heard of before. And, invariably, these catalogs contain items for people who are much more rich, thin, hip, ecologically minded, color coordinated, organized, and DIY savvy than me. In short, someone, somewhere thinks I am much cooler than I actually am.

I LOVE catalog shopping and online shopping because you get all the fun of shopping without all the pesky people you have to deal with in brick and mortar stores. Yep, I admit it, I’m not a big fan of people.

I’ve always gotten tons of catalogs but lately I’ve started receiving all kinds of new ones. Home items made completely of natural products, jewelry made by women in impoverished countries, preppy matchy-matchy home furnishings, sexy two-piece swimsuits, overpriced but gorgeous linens, unique home knick-knacks, etc. Halfway through my perusal of said catalogs I find myself flipping to the back cover to make sure it was addressed to me.

My only dilemma: will I ever live up to the coolness of my catalogs?

Who’s Responsible? April 9, 2008

I saw the clip online of a group of girls beating on another girl. Supposedly the attack was sparked by remarks that the victim posted on her My Space page and the girls planned to post the video of the beating online in retaliation. Ok, sounds like teenage mentality and, sadly, I’m not too shocked anymore by videos of kids beating on each other. But then today I saw an interview with the parents of one of the girls involved and they were actually indignant that websites like My Space would allow such behavior.

I can’t take it anymore. I’m so sick of seeing interviews with parents wagging their fingers at websites that are apparently to blame for the actions of their terrors kids. So, instead of parents being responsible for their one child, website owners are supposed to be responsible for millions of users? That sounds logical.

What I would like to know is what was the exact day that it was declared that parents no longer had to parent? I’m so sick of dealing with the offspring of others who are unleashed on an unsuspecting public only to come home at the end of the day to see the parents pointing fingers at the Internet, video games, movies, music, teachers, drugs, TV, etc. when Mary Sue beats up the neighbor or little Jimmy takes a gun to school and kills 10 people.

I agree that it probably gets more and more difficult to raise kids with the introduction of each new high tech gadget. But parents still have that little bit of magic that works without batteries. All they have to do is 1) See their kids on a regular basis and 2) Say NO! I know, I know, it’s hard to say ”no” when your kid whines and pouts. Too bad! That’s your job as a parent! You’re not there to be best friends; you’re there to create and mold responsible members of society. And you can’t do that when you buy your kids gadgets instead of spending time getting involved in their lives, monitoring their actions, and modeling good behavior.

Although I love my parents, they were not always my favorite people when I was growing up. They said “no” to me quite often, they didn’t put up with tantrums, and they showed me the importance of realizing you owe consideration to the people around you. I never said that my mom was my best friend because she wasn’t; she’s my mother. And being a mother is a much harder job than being a best friend. I think it’s also important to note that my parents never spanked me. They simply demanded that I treat them with respect by creating boundaries, being consistent, and giving me the Death Stare when necessary. If I were a teen today I would not have a cell phone, a computer, or cable TV. I would be forced to deal with my terrible life of using the computer at school, talking on the phone only while I’m at home, and flipping between 4 channels instead of 400. Wow, what a terrible life that would be.

My last complaint about parents today will make me wildly unpopular but I think it needs to be said. Parents do not spend enough time with their kids because they have bought into the notion that both parents HAVE to work. I don’t buy that for a second. What we’re doing as a society is choosing objects over people and relationships and it’s the children who suffer the most. For the life of me I do not understand why people feel the need to have children only to turn them over to strangers for the majority of their waking hours. What is the purpose of that? I have heard plenty of women at work say they could never stay home with their kids instead of working. Ok, I can certainly understand that feeling, but why have kids then? Don’t get me wrong, I don’t see it as only the mother’s duty to stay with the kids. I just think that no one should have children unless one parent is interested in spending the bulk of his/her time raising them. And if you can find no way to live on one salary (or aren’t interested in working opposite hours of your spouse) then I would suggest that you can’t really afford to have children. (And why do employers bend over backwards to help people have children? I couldn’t get a reasonable treatment covered by health insurance but they cover infertility treatments. Infertility in itself is not a disease or health risk so why should insurance cover that when they don’t cover some treatments for actual health problems? Mothers in my state get to collect short term disability pay for their maternity leave. They aren’t disabled - they just CHOSE to give birth. Unless they experienced some serious complications from the birth there is no reason why they should receive disability pay for 6 weeks.)

Well, I’m sure I’ve angered some, if not all, of the very few people who read this blog so I should probably put my soapbox back in the closet for a while. But it is something that really concerns me. I see kids who are lost and crying out to feel more important to their parents than money or possessions.

They Grow Up So Fast … April 4, 2008

It’s so difficult to watch our babies grow up. When they first come into our lives we choose to pretend that they will remain our babies forever and sometimes forget to cherish those early days. But soon enough we cannot deny the passage of time; it seems we wake up one day and all traces of babyhood have been erased. It’s wonderful to see them grow and learn new things, but our pride is mixed with sadness and longing for just a little more time with our babies.

My bundle of joy is Daisy who was born last August. Here she is at 13 weeks:

                                                  

She was such a wee little thing that I had to be careful not to step on her as she joyfully nipped at my feet. But I was forced to recognize how much she had grown when I caught her trying to steal a wash cloth off of the kitchen counter yesterday. She’s still young but that’s only evident in her behavior these days.

Here’s Daisy at 6 months:

                                                   

(sigh) My baby is growing up! I know that sometimes people don’t believe that some of us consider our pets to be our children. I don’t have any human children so Daisy is my child. Perhaps I don’t have the same bond with her as I would with a human child, but it is as close as I will get and I can’t imagine loving a human child more than I love her. And I probably spend about as much money on her every year but never get a tax break!