I recently read another mom's blog (I'm not saying who) about how her son was crushed that he would not be able to be a boy scout this year because his family are atheists. The Girl Scouts are okay with her daughter just leaving the God part out of her Girl Scout oath. Apparently, the Boy Scouts are not so inclined. This really didn't surprise me, since the Boy Scout Council openly excludes anyone who is gay, knows someone who is gay or has not attended a KKK meeting. (Don't get all excited, I'm only paraphrasing!)
I admit, when reading this my first reaction was to judge her a bad mother for not letting her son choose what he wants. I have this nasty habit of judging people too hastily. Then, my second thought was what would I do if it were Robby and he wanted to join the Young Promise Keepers Republican Society? Yikes! I'd like to think that I would let him choose to think for himself and have faith in what nourishes his soul. If I set a good example in my own life, not teach hate, fill our lives with diverse people and cite all the times George Bush has violated the Constitution...will it be enough? And when the whole GOD thing gets thrown into the mix, my head really starts to hurt.
I was raised Southern Baptist. I don't consider myself a Southern Baptist though. The Papa was raised Jewish. A strange mix that might possibly confuse a child. His childhood will be filled with Decembers where he lights the menorah and sings Silent Night. My hope is this will only illustrate for him that people believe different things and that is what makes life rich and full of flavor.
Robby currently attends a daycare facility that is sponsored by the Lutheran church. I chose the facility based on a recommendation and because I can run there from my office in 3 minutes flat if needed. When I enrolled him, I specifically asked Dumbledore (the principal) if they showed gory images of Christ on the cross. (They don't.) They do pray before eating and more than a few times at dinner I've already had the fork in my mouth when Robby has started reciting, "God is great, God is good..." and the feelings of guilt and confusion come crashing down as fast as my fork.
This whole issue is one that I need to spend some serious thought (and prayer) on. I know what I believe. I feel confident, peaceful and content in my beliefs. So why do I question if they are good enough for my son?
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Monday, October 15, 2007
Just Robby
Last night, Robby and I were having dinner and discussing what kind of a dog we would like to get. He decided on a big, green dog named Wahki. (He agreed with me that we should get a girl dog at least.) He looked so adorable sitting there having this conversation. I couldn't help but ask him, "Are you my little angel?".
He replied with the most serious of faces, "No. I'm just Robby."
He replied with the most serious of faces, "No. I'm just Robby."
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Saturday, September 22, 2007
Something
After taking every detour
Gettin' lost and losing track
So that even if I wanted
I could not find my way back
After drivin' out the memory
Of the way things might have been
After I'd forgotten all about us
The song remembers when
Well, for all the miles between us
And for all the time that's passed
You would think I haven't gotten very far
And I hope my hasty heart
Will forgive me just this once
If I stop to wonder how on earth you are
But that's just a lot of water
Underneath a bridge I burned
And there's no use in backtracking
Around corners I have turned
Still I guess some things we bury
Are just bound to rise again
For even if the whole world has forgotten
The song remembers when
-Hugh Prestwood The Song Remembers When
Gettin' lost and losing track
So that even if I wanted
I could not find my way back
After drivin' out the memory
Of the way things might have been
After I'd forgotten all about us
The song remembers when
Well, for all the miles between us
And for all the time that's passed
You would think I haven't gotten very far
And I hope my hasty heart
Will forgive me just this once
If I stop to wonder how on earth you are
But that's just a lot of water
Underneath a bridge I burned
And there's no use in backtracking
Around corners I have turned
Still I guess some things we bury
Are just bound to rise again
For even if the whole world has forgotten
The song remembers when
-Hugh Prestwood The Song Remembers When
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Borrow A Cup Of Formaldehyde?
Living on a cul de sac is a wonderful thing when you are a Gladys Kravitz type like me. I know everyone's name and what time they should be home everyday. All the neighborhood kids think I am cool because they use my driveway as the bicycle launching ramp and I don't care. I know the couple 3 doors down have affairs. I know the man across the way tried to add on to his house without getting a permit. I'll never turn him in because he got my dog off the roof once when I wasn't home.
The couple who live next to me (I call them Dork and Dindy) have not opened their blinds in 10+ years. No lie! Not even a crack. I bought this house from a friend who never saw them open a blind either in the five years he lived here. These neighbors are the type that don't smile or wave back at you when you see each other leaving or coming home. I liked them a little more when I convinced myself they were into kinky sex in their living room or had a sex slave and couldn't open the blinds. As it turns out, they are just assholes. Crazy assholes. I was pregnant for nine months, had a baby I walked in the stroller or played with in the front yard and never a word or a smile. Then I was out washing the car in the driveway one afternoon and Robby was in the stroller watching me. You can imagine my shock when Dork got his mail from his mailbox and started walking right towards me. I thought for sure he was finally going to say something about what an adorable child I had brought forth into this world. Instead he proceeded to not only not mention this or even say hello.
Dork:
The couple who live next to me (I call them Dork and Dindy) have not opened their blinds in 10+ years. No lie! Not even a crack. I bought this house from a friend who never saw them open a blind either in the five years he lived here. These neighbors are the type that don't smile or wave back at you when you see each other leaving or coming home. I liked them a little more when I convinced myself they were into kinky sex in their living room or had a sex slave and couldn't open the blinds. As it turns out, they are just assholes. Crazy assholes. I was pregnant for nine months, had a baby I walked in the stroller or played with in the front yard and never a word or a smile. Then I was out washing the car in the driveway one afternoon and Robby was in the stroller watching me. You can imagine my shock when Dork got his mail from his mailbox and started walking right towards me. I thought for sure he was finally going to say something about what an adorable child I had brought forth into this world. Instead he proceeded to not only not mention this or even say hello.
Dork:
We were noticing that you leave your garage door open a lot. Aren't you afraid
of burglars? We even close our door when we are home and working in the
backyard.
Me:
Well...when it is open, we are always home. The garage door opener is directly
under the crib and sometimes we don't want to close the door when Robby is
taking a nap. It's so loud it sometimes will wake him. We've never had a problem
with burglars before. Have you?
Dork:
We've had mice. But we have cats.
I had no idea how to respond to that so I just said it was nice talking and went back to washing the car. Now I admit I sometimes still imagine they have a sex slave. Only now its head is in their freezer.
Monday, August 27, 2007
Listening 101
From the beginning, I have always talked to Robby like he could understand what I was saying. I started this when he was still inside my body. I would tell him about what we were eating, watching on television or what horrible things George Bush was up to. Once he was outside of my body, it felt natural to just keep doing it. When he started talking, he would mostly parrot what I was saying with one word statements like TRUCK! or ELEPHANT! Next, the one word statements turned into mini-sentences that showed me he was starting to put all those words together. He would say things like, “Robby go outside” and “Eat Blueberries”. I was thrilled he could communicate his thoughts and desires to me. When I asked him what he dreamed about as we snuggled in the rocking chair in the mornings, he would tell me. (Usually it was elephants.) Last week at bath time, I realized that he has now taken it to the next level; independent thought.
Since his first bath, I’ve always held him up to watch the last bit of water leave the tub and disappear down the drain. As the last bit of suds leave, I always say, “Bye-Bye bath water. See you next time!” About a month ago, we were watching the tub drain and I told him that the water was going to the ocean. I didn’t even think he really heard me say it. He did though. He pointed to the water as it was draining and told me that it was going to the airport. “The airport?” I thought I misunderstood him but he then told me that the water had to go to the airport to go to the ocean. You have to go to the airport to get to far away places like Arizona where Grandma lives, so why wouldn’t the water have to go to the airport to get to the ocean? It makes perfect sense if you think about it.
Think about it, I have. How many times have I continued to have our conversations and not stopped to hear if he has a response? Admittedly, this is a new concept for him and me both so I can’t be too critical of my parenting skills on this matter. But then I asked myself how often I do the exact same thing with people in my life that can comprehend and respond? What about people who can comprehend and choose not to respond?
That’s a subject I’ll leave for another time.
Since his first bath, I’ve always held him up to watch the last bit of water leave the tub and disappear down the drain. As the last bit of suds leave, I always say, “Bye-Bye bath water. See you next time!” About a month ago, we were watching the tub drain and I told him that the water was going to the ocean. I didn’t even think he really heard me say it. He did though. He pointed to the water as it was draining and told me that it was going to the airport. “The airport?” I thought I misunderstood him but he then told me that the water had to go to the airport to go to the ocean. You have to go to the airport to get to far away places like Arizona where Grandma lives, so why wouldn’t the water have to go to the airport to get to the ocean? It makes perfect sense if you think about it.
Think about it, I have. How many times have I continued to have our conversations and not stopped to hear if he has a response? Admittedly, this is a new concept for him and me both so I can’t be too critical of my parenting skills on this matter. But then I asked myself how often I do the exact same thing with people in my life that can comprehend and respond? What about people who can comprehend and choose not to respond?
That’s a subject I’ll leave for another time.
Saturday, August 4, 2007
RIP New Wahky
Last night was the first night I have ever spent away from Robby. I was so afraid it was going to be this horrible experience; filled with constant monitor checks and crying. Instead, I slept for about 11 hours. Ahhh. Sleep. I remember it well.
When I dropped Robby of at the Papa's apartment for the night, Robby was fine. In fact, he started saying, "Bye" to me as I was sitting on the couch talking to The Papa. I am so grateful that Robby is okay with all of this. I wouldn't want him to be any other way. I'd be lying though if I didn't confess a little twinge of pain as Robby closed the door behind me so rapidly after I walked through it. Maybe all the times I've told him "Mama's ALWAYS come BACK" has paid off.
We didn't get much sleep the night before for many reasons. First, I signed the final divorce papers that day and I'm sure Robby could sense the cloud of sadness lurking over my head. Second, tragedy struck when we got home from daycare. New wahky (binky) was broken beyond use. Robby was heart broken and repeatedly asked for New Wahky all night. Old Wahky was fine until 1 am. I remember the day we bought New Wahky. It was the first time We went grocery shopping since The Papa moved out. I was much too tired to be grocery shopping with an almost 2 year old, but the cupboard was BARE. Robby bit through his wahky and proceeded to throw the biggest tantrum of his life. I've seen kids throw tantrums in stores for many years and could never understand why their mothers didn't handle the situation properly. All the times I had told myself I would always remove my child from the store if he ever threw such a fit were playing back in my head as I pushed the cart to the baby isle, grabbed a package of pacifiers and opened it right on the spot. New Wahky and a big dose of understanding for The Mama was born.
Lastly, Robby picked that night to crawl out of his crib for the first time. At 3:30 am, I finally put Robby in his crib with a book and told him he HAD to go to sleep. Nothing else I had tried had coaxed him to sleep. I listened as he screamed for 9 minutes and then fell asleep. At 6 am when I heard him going through his normal morning routine of babbling the plot of a book he was looking at, I got out of bed and went to his room. I opened the door and saw that he was not in his nice safe crib where I left him but sitting in the chair smiling at me. Once my heart started beating again, we went through our normal morning routine.
I'm sure I'll always remember that day. All in all, it wasn't too bad though. I'm amazed at how we got through it so well. The sun still comes up, the Cherrios are still stuck to the bowl in the kitchen sink and the laughter and hope for a brighter future are still here.
When I dropped Robby of at the Papa's apartment for the night, Robby was fine. In fact, he started saying, "Bye" to me as I was sitting on the couch talking to The Papa. I am so grateful that Robby is okay with all of this. I wouldn't want him to be any other way. I'd be lying though if I didn't confess a little twinge of pain as Robby closed the door behind me so rapidly after I walked through it. Maybe all the times I've told him "Mama's ALWAYS come BACK" has paid off.
We didn't get much sleep the night before for many reasons. First, I signed the final divorce papers that day and I'm sure Robby could sense the cloud of sadness lurking over my head. Second, tragedy struck when we got home from daycare. New wahky (binky) was broken beyond use. Robby was heart broken and repeatedly asked for New Wahky all night. Old Wahky was fine until 1 am. I remember the day we bought New Wahky. It was the first time We went grocery shopping since The Papa moved out. I was much too tired to be grocery shopping with an almost 2 year old, but the cupboard was BARE. Robby bit through his wahky and proceeded to throw the biggest tantrum of his life. I've seen kids throw tantrums in stores for many years and could never understand why their mothers didn't handle the situation properly. All the times I had told myself I would always remove my child from the store if he ever threw such a fit were playing back in my head as I pushed the cart to the baby isle, grabbed a package of pacifiers and opened it right on the spot. New Wahky and a big dose of understanding for The Mama was born.
Lastly, Robby picked that night to crawl out of his crib for the first time. At 3:30 am, I finally put Robby in his crib with a book and told him he HAD to go to sleep. Nothing else I had tried had coaxed him to sleep. I listened as he screamed for 9 minutes and then fell asleep. At 6 am when I heard him going through his normal morning routine of babbling the plot of a book he was looking at, I got out of bed and went to his room. I opened the door and saw that he was not in his nice safe crib where I left him but sitting in the chair smiling at me. Once my heart started beating again, we went through our normal morning routine.
I'm sure I'll always remember that day. All in all, it wasn't too bad though. I'm amazed at how we got through it so well. The sun still comes up, the Cherrios are still stuck to the bowl in the kitchen sink and the laughter and hope for a brighter future are still here.
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
August 1, 2007
Dear Robby,
This isn’t a birthday letter. It’s probably one the hardest I’ll ever have to write.
Tomorrow, your Papa and I are getting divorced.
I know you’re only two and don’t understand what is happening completely. I’m actually very grateful for that. I know one day you will want to know why. Maybe this letter will help, although I don’t think anyone really ever knows all the parts that created the “why”.
The craziest part of all of this is that your father and I still love each other very much. I will never stop loving your father. Half of what you are is him; so how could I ever stop loving him? When I look at you I can see parts of him in your looks and your personality. I always smile when I notice these traits in you. Your father and I have been hurting for a long while now. We’ve both tried everything possible to make this marriage work. We just couldn’t do it. I guess that sometimes love isn’t enough to make everything all right. If it was, this letter would never be written.
I want you to know that you were brought into this world with so much love, passion and excitement. You were created out of the love your Papa and I have for each other. I don’t think either one of us will ever regret our marriage. Not only because of you, but because it was a very special love. If I can say this now when I feel like I am going to choke on all the sadness in my heart, I know I will be able to say it forever.
People grow and change. Dreams change, expectations change and lives change. Looking back, I wish that I had seen some warning signs that we were drifting apart in what we wanted. It’s like one day I looked up and realized that we didn’t want the same things out of life. No amount of nagging or begging could ever change that. How can you change another person? You can’t. You can only love and respect them for who they are. I can do that with your father; I just can’t do it as his partner in life anymore. So, if you one day feel like you need to be angry at or blame one of us for divorcing, you’re just going to have to blame us both. There is no right and wrong involved. It isn’t black and white. We’ve both done right and we’ve both done wrong. Your father and I both want the best for you out of life. That will never stop or change. I want us to be able to want the best out of life for each other as well. It’s just hard to know that you aren’t the best choice for the one you love. No matter how much you want to be the best choice.
I am fighting the urge to apologize to you for all of this happening. I am sorry that you will not remember how it was when Mama and Papa lived together with you. You won’t remember the laughter we shared or the joy in our eyes when we looked at you. Please know that it once was there. I guess that’s the trade off for you not remembering the sadness in our eyes today.
I want it to be completely clear to you that in no way were you the cause of this happening. You have absolutely nothing to do with any problems your father and I have. I repeat: you are not the reason we are getting a divorce. Never think that, okay? You can always come to either one of us and ask or talk about anything; even this. Our first and foremost thought in all of this has not been who gets what book or dish. It has been making sure that you are taken care of in the best possible way. You are the most important thing to both of us. The love a person has for their child is a different love than any other. It’s more special than any other. That love can never falter. It can only grow and amaze you for your capacity to love. I don’t know everything, but this I know for sure. I wake up more amazed every single day.
Love,
Mama
Dear Robby,
This isn’t a birthday letter. It’s probably one the hardest I’ll ever have to write.
Tomorrow, your Papa and I are getting divorced.
I know you’re only two and don’t understand what is happening completely. I’m actually very grateful for that. I know one day you will want to know why. Maybe this letter will help, although I don’t think anyone really ever knows all the parts that created the “why”.
The craziest part of all of this is that your father and I still love each other very much. I will never stop loving your father. Half of what you are is him; so how could I ever stop loving him? When I look at you I can see parts of him in your looks and your personality. I always smile when I notice these traits in you. Your father and I have been hurting for a long while now. We’ve both tried everything possible to make this marriage work. We just couldn’t do it. I guess that sometimes love isn’t enough to make everything all right. If it was, this letter would never be written.
I want you to know that you were brought into this world with so much love, passion and excitement. You were created out of the love your Papa and I have for each other. I don’t think either one of us will ever regret our marriage. Not only because of you, but because it was a very special love. If I can say this now when I feel like I am going to choke on all the sadness in my heart, I know I will be able to say it forever.
People grow and change. Dreams change, expectations change and lives change. Looking back, I wish that I had seen some warning signs that we were drifting apart in what we wanted. It’s like one day I looked up and realized that we didn’t want the same things out of life. No amount of nagging or begging could ever change that. How can you change another person? You can’t. You can only love and respect them for who they are. I can do that with your father; I just can’t do it as his partner in life anymore. So, if you one day feel like you need to be angry at or blame one of us for divorcing, you’re just going to have to blame us both. There is no right and wrong involved. It isn’t black and white. We’ve both done right and we’ve both done wrong. Your father and I both want the best for you out of life. That will never stop or change. I want us to be able to want the best out of life for each other as well. It’s just hard to know that you aren’t the best choice for the one you love. No matter how much you want to be the best choice.
I am fighting the urge to apologize to you for all of this happening. I am sorry that you will not remember how it was when Mama and Papa lived together with you. You won’t remember the laughter we shared or the joy in our eyes when we looked at you. Please know that it once was there. I guess that’s the trade off for you not remembering the sadness in our eyes today.
I want it to be completely clear to you that in no way were you the cause of this happening. You have absolutely nothing to do with any problems your father and I have. I repeat: you are not the reason we are getting a divorce. Never think that, okay? You can always come to either one of us and ask or talk about anything; even this. Our first and foremost thought in all of this has not been who gets what book or dish. It has been making sure that you are taken care of in the best possible way. You are the most important thing to both of us. The love a person has for their child is a different love than any other. It’s more special than any other. That love can never falter. It can only grow and amaze you for your capacity to love. I don’t know everything, but this I know for sure. I wake up more amazed every single day.
Love,
Mama
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
Separation Anxiety
Hi. I know I haven't posted in awhile. The Papa and I separated about 6 weeks ago. I've had a hard time concluding how I would write about all of this and post it here for everyone, including The Papa, to see. I'm sure I will post things that will hurt him on this site. I think the subject matter alone is enough to hurt him. I know that I have a need to write about my life though and I can't filter out the worst thing that I've ever been through and write about just potty training and the weather. I must address the rather large elephant in the living room at some point. I do know that I have no intentions of being cruel, either here or in the real world. I will always try to write with compassion and love.
I can't tell you all about how he cheated on me, stole the family bible or beat me. I can't because he didn't do any of those things. He's a good and decent man. I love him still and will until the day I die. The sad part is I've only just discovered that love isn't always enough. Sounds like some sad song from the 90's. As of today, I have not filed for divorce. I don't know what tomorrow brings. I've spent the past six weeks trying to think of any way I can to fix this marriage. I haven't let myself start a new life and I won't let myself go back to the old life. I'm stuck somewhere in the middle. Emotionally, it has been a wild ride but things are more clear to me now than they were six weeks ago, last week or even yesterday. I guess I can call that progress.
I can't tell you all about how he cheated on me, stole the family bible or beat me. I can't because he didn't do any of those things. He's a good and decent man. I love him still and will until the day I die. The sad part is I've only just discovered that love isn't always enough. Sounds like some sad song from the 90's. As of today, I have not filed for divorce. I don't know what tomorrow brings. I've spent the past six weeks trying to think of any way I can to fix this marriage. I haven't let myself start a new life and I won't let myself go back to the old life. I'm stuck somewhere in the middle. Emotionally, it has been a wild ride but things are more clear to me now than they were six weeks ago, last week or even yesterday. I guess I can call that progress.
Monday, April 30, 2007
If It Ain't #1; It's in the Top Two...
Scrub List
- Find somewhere between rage and devestation to live.
Monday, April 16, 2007
The List
Several years ago, my friend Mitch, the Super-Duper Life Coach, suggested I create a list called, "Ten Daily Habits". Basically, it's a list of 10 things I need to do everyday to make my life run smoothly and joyfully. This list has been on my refrigerator ever since. Over the years it has moved from the front of the freezer door to the side of the refrigerator over the trash can. Tonight, I really looked at the list for the first time in too many years.
1. Take Medication/Vitamins
Is ice cream a vitamin? I haven't regulary taken a vitamin since they pulled Robby out.
2. Wear 1 Thing That Makes Me Smile
This used to be a shirt in my favorite color or a pair of jeans my ass looked good in. Today it made me smile that I had a clean pair of 10 year old jeans. Am I the only one who misses tapered-leg jeans and big hair?
3. 20 Minutes of Stress Relief
I remember this was my compromise for the word exercise. I didn't want to have to exercise everyday, so I wrote this instead. Is nicotine a stress reliever?
4. Keep Commitments
OK! Finally something I still try to do everyday. Today, I just don't commit to something/someone as often as I used to and I try never to work on a deadline. Accomplishment through avoidance. WooHoo!
5. Connect With One Person
This means truly have a meaningful interaction with another human (ie not isolate myself). If Robby counts, and I think he should, I have done this daily for going on 21 months.
6. One Scrub Item Completed
A "scrub item" is something on your to do list. The concept being that if you have too many things to do nagging at you there is no room left for the good stuff to come into your life. I used to have an actual Scrub List I would add to when something came up and cross things off as I completed them. The phrase "Do It, Dump It or Delegate It" was my mantra. Today this list is in my head and I do stuff when I have free time. Ok, stop laughing.
7. Floss
I went to the dentist for the first time in a little over 2 years last month. Yeah, I got the lecture. I used to keep the floss by the TV so I could do it as I watched Survivor or some other vital hour of must see television. (Note to self: Put floss by TV on To Do List)
8. Write in Journal
Journal? What about a BLOG, does that count? My guess is that unless I actually post it doesn't.
9. Read For Pleasure
I can hear all the parents out there laughing. Read? When? I used to be an avid reader. Now I'm lucky if I get to read an article in Parents magazine while on the toilet with out being interrupted. From the day he was born, Robby knowns when Mama is reading, eating or having sex.
10. 7 Hours of Sleep
Now the parents out there are really getting a kick out of this list. I admit I'm lucky when it comes to this. Except for the occasional night, Robby sleeps through the night. He goes to bed around 7 to 7:30 and sleeps until 6 or 7. (Except the last three mornings when he's gotten up around 5.) If I can't manage 7 hours in there, I blame myself.
When I tried to revise the list for my life today I found that it pretty much stayed the same. Except for the reading. That needs to go on another list - for now. The needs I was trying to meet when I originally wrote the list are the same today as they were all the years ago. To me, that's a sign of something worth keeping. When I first made the list I remember how good I felt at the end of the day. Just being aware of these needs was powerful for me. When I'd go to bed each night I would review all that I'd accomplished that day and feel like it was a day well spent. I miss that feeling. Lately when I do this all my accomplishments have been either housework or moneymaking-work. Yes, true they are things that have to be done. Still, I ask myself why I have been placing more value on the laundry than my needs. (There's a question from a post-it-note, Devon!)
I'm making a new Scrub List this week! Stay tuned.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Saturday, April 7, 2007
77 Days
Spring sucks. Don’t get me wrong, I love all the sunshine, flowers blooming and getting to finally go “ow-sigh” as Robby puts it. It’s just that I can look back on my life and just about everything horrible thing that ever happened to me happened in the spring. I am an autumn person. I was born in November and good things happen to me in the fall. Related? I don’t know if my astrological sign has anything to do with it or not. How about your life? Are a summer baby and tragedy happens in the winter?
So far this spring I’ve had a process server at my door, have had so much congestion that I haven’t heard out of my right ear for going on 2 months, had major problems with my marriage and struggled with how to support a friend with cancer. How’s your spring going? Did I mention that when we drain the bathtub water leaks from the garage ceiling?
No one likes to hear about other people’s problems. I do not want to be the person you avoid because you really don’t want to hear about their latest tragedy. Everyone has problems. I know that my problems don’t compare to health problems, being homeless, having your house burn down or coping with a loved one’s death. I know. Robby is healthy, thriving and happy. Things could be a lot worse. I know. But despite all of that my problems are MY problems. They affect the daily quality of my life and the lives of those around me.
Attitude you say? Well, I’ve tried that. It doesn’t work in the spring for me. Normally, when life gets a little overwhelming and I get caught up in little mundane nuisances I will try to change my outlook. Service to others is one. If I get involved and help someone else, I find I am not so caught up in my own stuff and the good feeling of helping someone else is just the shot in the arm I need to move forward in my own life. This especially works if I think that the other person’s problems are much worse than mine. Then I get a bonus dose of gratitude as well. Accentuating the positive is always good when the “bluckys” strike as well. It’s hard for me to fake happiness though. So, when my nose is really up against “the wall” accentuating the positive only serves to piss me off more.
So what’s a girl to do? I’m doing the best I can at any given moment throughout the day. Oh, and counting the days until summer officially starts.
So far this spring I’ve had a process server at my door, have had so much congestion that I haven’t heard out of my right ear for going on 2 months, had major problems with my marriage and struggled with how to support a friend with cancer. How’s your spring going? Did I mention that when we drain the bathtub water leaks from the garage ceiling?
No one likes to hear about other people’s problems. I do not want to be the person you avoid because you really don’t want to hear about their latest tragedy. Everyone has problems. I know that my problems don’t compare to health problems, being homeless, having your house burn down or coping with a loved one’s death. I know. Robby is healthy, thriving and happy. Things could be a lot worse. I know. But despite all of that my problems are MY problems. They affect the daily quality of my life and the lives of those around me.
Attitude you say? Well, I’ve tried that. It doesn’t work in the spring for me. Normally, when life gets a little overwhelming and I get caught up in little mundane nuisances I will try to change my outlook. Service to others is one. If I get involved and help someone else, I find I am not so caught up in my own stuff and the good feeling of helping someone else is just the shot in the arm I need to move forward in my own life. This especially works if I think that the other person’s problems are much worse than mine. Then I get a bonus dose of gratitude as well. Accentuating the positive is always good when the “bluckys” strike as well. It’s hard for me to fake happiness though. So, when my nose is really up against “the wall” accentuating the positive only serves to piss me off more.
So what’s a girl to do? I’m doing the best I can at any given moment throughout the day. Oh, and counting the days until summer officially starts.
Thursday, April 5, 2007
Detour
I wanted to share an amazing post I read the other day. It really got me thinking, which everyone knows is a dangerous thing. I was really struck by the line "Elation and sorrow live in the exact same place."
Check it out! http://lesbiandad.net/2007/03/29/sandbox-paradox/
Maybe if I keep reading the thought provoking posts of others I will be inspired to write.
Keep checking back to see please. Don't give up on me yet.
Check it out! http://lesbiandad.net/2007/03/29/sandbox-paradox/
Maybe if I keep reading the thought provoking posts of others I will be inspired to write.
Keep checking back to see please. Don't give up on me yet.
Monday, March 26, 2007
Paying It Forward
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We've been living in this house for 5 years to the day. I remember because that's the day my father died. I'd spent a week at the VA Hospital in Arizona and flew home the night he died. I know he waited for me to leave. My dad was like that; always wanting to do things his way. I'd like to think he did it out of love a little too. Like maybe he didn't want me to have to go through it the way he had to go through everyone in his life dying. When my dad was 6 weeks old his mother died of pneumonia. He never even knew her. When he was 14 his father died and basically he was on his own. I can't even imagine what that must have been like for him.
Robby wasn't born until my dad had been dead for over 3 years. He never got to see how amazingly perfect his grandson is. Robby is named for two grandfathers he never knew; two very different men. ThePapa's father was Robert and he left even before I got to meet him. We always knew we'd name him Robert if we were ever lucky enough to have him. It wasn't until I was quite pregnant that the desire appeared to name him after my father. I felt the need to somehow keep my father going. I was the only family my dad had left when he died. It seemed so sad that after I was gone, no one would be left to carry all the love he shared with me.
Today, 5 years down the road, I can sometimes see my father when I look at Robby. I see the lanky cowboy frame, the tender loving eyes and God help us all I see that determined look that lets everyone within 5 feet know how serious he is about getting what he wants. Can you see him from where you are dad? I hope so. I want you to see that all the love you gave me didn't go to waste. In the long run, I was paying attention to your heart more than your actions. If it wasn't for you, dad, there wouldn't be a Robert Charles. I miss you still.
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