Let me be the first in line to admit that I am a bad blogger. A naughty, naughty blogger who has already defeated her own purpose in starting this blog. My intent was to give myself a creative writing outlet and to use said outlet regularly.
Life - 2, Keelie - 0.
About a month ago, the game plan was to post about what my perfect "Mom's Vacation" would look like. Par for the course, life had other ideas. Some noise about me working, taking care of my house, and being a parent. To which I say, Who decided I needed this much responsibility? Oh wait, I did. Let me just add that this "responsibility" bill of goods was sold to me under the guise of "freedom to make my own choices"... highly overrated. Buyer beware.
This is precisely WHY I need the vacation. Scratch that. I don't need a vacation. I need a sabbatical. I'm envious of moms I read about in magazines, who somehow carve out personal time for themselves and their hobbies/pursuits, without feeling like selfish ogres... and without letting their families (immediate and extended) make them feel like ogres. If I'm playing with my kid, I'm neglecting housework... if I'm doing housework, I'm neglecting my kid... if I'm getting desperately needed sleep, I'm neglecting exercising... if I'm doing household projects, I'm neglecting homework... if I'm taking the time to shower, I'm neglecting chores or errands... if I'm working late, I'm neglecting household projects. The list goes on.
All signs point to my sabbatical including two things: an education on myself at home and on my own.
First things first. I need someone to come live with me and teach me how to organize my own life. Yes, I'm that lame. I don't mean someone to stand there and make suggestions while passing judgement. I mean, live with me for a few months and tell me, "these are the changes we're going to try and we'll find what suits YOU best." Chalk this up to years of being programmed to be so paranoid about making the "wrong" decision that I have trouble making ANY decision. Hey, at least no one can tell me denial ain't just a river in Egypt. I own that sickness... and prefer to call it Avoidinitis.
Part deux of this sabbatical: I need time away, mostly by myself. (Although, I couldn't bare to be away from my kiddo more than 1 week at a time. So someone would have to transport her to visit me whenever I wanted, for as long as I wanted.) I just think I'm at a point in my life where I've realized I've never really done anything by myself for more than 3 months, and I feel like I've missed out. Oh, hello 30's! So this is what you look like? Hmph... I expected more.
So on my own, I need to soak up sun and sea on isolated beaches, wander foreign cities, see amazing vistas, and experience other cultures. I'm thinking about a year of this would do nicely. I would have my own personal travel agent at my beckoned call to make any arrangements my heart desired. Coordinate the transportation to get me there, book my tours, make my reservations, get my packing done, etc. Dinner in a French cafe? Done. Sailing on the South China Sea? Done. Concert on the Danube? Done. Weekend in Cortona with plenty of wine and spending money for the marketplace? Done. Done. Done. And I'd have unlimited means to make it happen. First class all the way, baby.
I don't think any of this is too much to ask, and I'm inclined to think my creating human life lends itself to a bit of entitlement here. In reality - it looks like I'll be squaring up for some drinks with good friends next weekend. Not exactly Tahiti, but for a few hours, Margaritaville will do.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Randomly Tandemly: The Sickies
When I was still at my old job, I had a friend who thought that when she was getting sick, if she didn't actually acknowledge it and say the word "sick" in reference to herself, she wouldn't get it. And so I became a recruit, which meant that every fall and winter the two of us spent weeks saying, "I'm not getting The S". Whether or not this theory can be indirectly correlated with a decrease in annual bouts of illness (good god, did I just reference statistics?) remains to be proven. **Sidebar - if any of you reading this dare to comment about statistics being applicable in "real life", I will know about it and hunt you down. But that is a topic for another day, and I digress.
The point is, at this moment, I am sick. I officially have The S and I'm not above saying I'm sick of being sick. I HATE being sick. I don't know anyone who enjoys it but I particularly loathe it, especially now that I'm an adult. Although I only have a cold, it's become pervasive to all other aspects of my life, which is an annoyance. The only upside to this blasphemous virus is that I could do a mean impression of Phoebe from Friends singing "Smelly Cat" in her sexy cold-battered voice. Otherwise, it's pure suckiness. I can't talk to people at work in a normal voice. My nose is sore and dry from blowing it so much. And I can't get any grad school work done because I fall asleep on the sofa like a 60-year-old man when I sit down at night. Then I have to turn around and get up for work the next morning along with getting my daughter off to preschool... and maybe even sit through a 3-hour class and drive 45 minutes home from campus on any given night. Yes, I'll have some cheese with this whine.
But let me back up for a moment. I initially picked up this cold about 2 weeks ago from my daughter. She just started petry dish, er - I mean preschool, this fall and ever since it's been an endless parade of colds and ENT infections. If I hear one more parent tell me we're in the "immunity building" stage I may be tempted to lick their face and share the love. For me, being sick these days is a not-so-nice reminder that I've grown up and out of the privilege of having someone to take care of me. Yes, I have a wonderful husband who will bring me hot tea and pick up my snotty tissues - but I've aged past the point of being "mom-ed" back to wellness. Gone are the days of laying around at home with nothing to do except making up the occasional bit of homework, being pampered by my mom who would often take the day off work to be with me, and getting to watch endless of amounts of junky TV without guilt.
Now it's my turn to do the mom-ing. I never feel resentful for having to take care of my daughter when she is sick. In fact, some lame little part of me actually enjoys her needing me a little more than usual, although I hate to see her sick because A) she is suffering and B) I will likely get whatever nastiness she has brought home. But I don't resent it because I love being a mom and knowing I'm helping my baby to feel better with the juice, chicken soup, and whatnot. And if I get a chance to stay home with her on the rare occasion - hey, who doesn't enjoy a Phineas & Ferb marathon?
As for my hubby... well, he's a man and all men are giant babies when they're sick. It's like it never sunk into their head when they moved out of their mother's house that the luxury of being mom-ed when sick would/should diminish. THIS I do get resentful about, simply because it's one of those trappings of antiquated gender roles. As nice as the idea might be to the men folk, I don't believe your gender should get you a free pass here. It's our turn as parents to be the caretakers, not the other way around. That goes for BOTH of us. I gave birth to one child, not two.
I guess my point is this: Although it's never fun to be sick, at least as a kid someone usually tries to make the best of the miserable experience for you, and your personal obligations are so minimal (if not nonexistent) that you can "enjoy" the break in routine without worrying about what isn't getting done. You can focus your energy on just taking care of yourself... something this mom hasn't done since the pre-kid age. Now excuse me while I go blow my nose and start another load of laundry.
The point is, at this moment, I am sick. I officially have The S and I'm not above saying I'm sick of being sick. I HATE being sick. I don't know anyone who enjoys it but I particularly loathe it, especially now that I'm an adult. Although I only have a cold, it's become pervasive to all other aspects of my life, which is an annoyance. The only upside to this blasphemous virus is that I could do a mean impression of Phoebe from Friends singing "Smelly Cat" in her sexy cold-battered voice. Otherwise, it's pure suckiness. I can't talk to people at work in a normal voice. My nose is sore and dry from blowing it so much. And I can't get any grad school work done because I fall asleep on the sofa like a 60-year-old man when I sit down at night. Then I have to turn around and get up for work the next morning along with getting my daughter off to preschool... and maybe even sit through a 3-hour class and drive 45 minutes home from campus on any given night. Yes, I'll have some cheese with this whine.
But let me back up for a moment. I initially picked up this cold about 2 weeks ago from my daughter. She just started petry dish, er - I mean preschool, this fall and ever since it's been an endless parade of colds and ENT infections. If I hear one more parent tell me we're in the "immunity building" stage I may be tempted to lick their face and share the love. For me, being sick these days is a not-so-nice reminder that I've grown up and out of the privilege of having someone to take care of me. Yes, I have a wonderful husband who will bring me hot tea and pick up my snotty tissues - but I've aged past the point of being "mom-ed" back to wellness. Gone are the days of laying around at home with nothing to do except making up the occasional bit of homework, being pampered by my mom who would often take the day off work to be with me, and getting to watch endless of amounts of junky TV without guilt.
Now it's my turn to do the mom-ing. I never feel resentful for having to take care of my daughter when she is sick. In fact, some lame little part of me actually enjoys her needing me a little more than usual, although I hate to see her sick because A) she is suffering and B) I will likely get whatever nastiness she has brought home. But I don't resent it because I love being a mom and knowing I'm helping my baby to feel better with the juice, chicken soup, and whatnot. And if I get a chance to stay home with her on the rare occasion - hey, who doesn't enjoy a Phineas & Ferb marathon?
As for my hubby... well, he's a man and all men are giant babies when they're sick. It's like it never sunk into their head when they moved out of their mother's house that the luxury of being mom-ed when sick would/should diminish. THIS I do get resentful about, simply because it's one of those trappings of antiquated gender roles. As nice as the idea might be to the men folk, I don't believe your gender should get you a free pass here. It's our turn as parents to be the caretakers, not the other way around. That goes for BOTH of us. I gave birth to one child, not two.
I guess my point is this: Although it's never fun to be sick, at least as a kid someone usually tries to make the best of the miserable experience for you, and your personal obligations are so minimal (if not nonexistent) that you can "enjoy" the break in routine without worrying about what isn't getting done. You can focus your energy on just taking care of yourself... something this mom hasn't done since the pre-kid age. Now excuse me while I go blow my nose and start another load of laundry.
Welcome to "Randomly Tandemly"
Once upon a time, two little girls (one blonde and one redhead) lived down the street from each other...
The blonde was named Courtney and the redhead was named Keelie. When they were four, they met at a small preschool and became fast friends. Throughout their younger years, there were many days of Barbies, playing pretend, arguing over hair length, having tea parties, more Barbies, playing dress up, having sleepovers, lots more Barbies, and general silliness.
As they got older, they continued to spend their school days (and non-school days) together whenever possible. These more "mature" days often involved playing dress up for social occasions, still having sleepovers, girl drama, running amuck in other nearby towns, boys, weekend trips to the movies and local Subway, more girl drama, grown-up beverages, meaning-of-life discussions, arguing about girl drama, and Friday night football games.
Skip to today and it's a remarkably different picture. Keelie and Courtney no longer have a use for girl drama, they have a preference for Mexican food rather than Subway, and there's a lot less running amuck. Oh, and husbands and kids have entered the picture. Courtney is a SAHM 3 beautiful and very active kids (age 5, 4, and 2), a 9-5 hubby, and MOMS club duties. Keelie works outside the home, attends grad school, and has 1 attitudinal but sweet 4-year-old and a night shift hubby. Courtney lives hours away from her and her husband's family, so they're flying solo. Keelie lives 10 minutes away from her parental units and in-laws, and leans on them A LOT. Ironically, there's actually still girl drama (usually surrounding the girl children), they still love Barbies (because their daughters play with them), and they still occasionally run amuck to the movies (thank you Twilight series!). So perhaps some things change and some really do stay the same? Either way, Keelie and Courtney have been through a lot of ups and downs together (sometimes with each other), and have managed to stay best friends for HOLY CRAP almost 28 years. (Please don't do the math, they know how old they are.)
SO, now that you're privy to the whole backstory of a rather interesting friendship, I can stop talking in third person (although it is fun when Keelie is intending to be obnoxious) and get to the point. After a whole lot of years of friendship and now living so far apart, Courtney and I decided that we needed another way to connect/talk/vent/etc. besides Facebook, phone (trust me, unlimited talk and text would STILL not be enough), and email. I also had blog-envy because if you read my very first post, you'll know that I need a somewhat creative writing outlet. So, here we are.
Every week we're aiming to tackle a different topic that's relevant to us as mothers/wives/BFFs. Or it could be completely random. That's the joy of being your own blog boss. We're going to post on the same topic in tandem. Hence, our fabulous weekly blog post that will now be known as "Randomly Tandemly". Enjoy it if you will. If you don't - stop reading (and PS, we don't want to hear your complaints). I'll be linking to Courtney's blog from my page and vice versa. We're really excited to get started and in the near future you'll (hopefully) be reading our first Randomly Tandemly blog about "the Sickies". Yes, nothing says good writing like starting out with a touch of grossness. But please enjoy anyway. We're looking forward to posting more!
The blonde was named Courtney and the redhead was named Keelie. When they were four, they met at a small preschool and became fast friends. Throughout their younger years, there were many days of Barbies, playing pretend, arguing over hair length, having tea parties, more Barbies, playing dress up, having sleepovers, lots more Barbies, and general silliness.
As they got older, they continued to spend their school days (and non-school days) together whenever possible. These more "mature" days often involved playing dress up for social occasions, still having sleepovers, girl drama, running amuck in other nearby towns, boys, weekend trips to the movies and local Subway, more girl drama, grown-up beverages, meaning-of-life discussions, arguing about girl drama, and Friday night football games.
Skip to today and it's a remarkably different picture. Keelie and Courtney no longer have a use for girl drama, they have a preference for Mexican food rather than Subway, and there's a lot less running amuck. Oh, and husbands and kids have entered the picture. Courtney is a SAHM 3 beautiful and very active kids (age 5, 4, and 2), a 9-5 hubby, and MOMS club duties. Keelie works outside the home, attends grad school, and has 1 attitudinal but sweet 4-year-old and a night shift hubby. Courtney lives hours away from her and her husband's family, so they're flying solo. Keelie lives 10 minutes away from her parental units and in-laws, and leans on them A LOT. Ironically, there's actually still girl drama (usually surrounding the girl children), they still love Barbies (because their daughters play with them), and they still occasionally run amuck to the movies (thank you Twilight series!). So perhaps some things change and some really do stay the same? Either way, Keelie and Courtney have been through a lot of ups and downs together (sometimes with each other), and have managed to stay best friends for HOLY CRAP almost 28 years. (Please don't do the math, they know how old they are.)
SO, now that you're privy to the whole backstory of a rather interesting friendship, I can stop talking in third person (although it is fun when Keelie is intending to be obnoxious) and get to the point. After a whole lot of years of friendship and now living so far apart, Courtney and I decided that we needed another way to connect/talk/vent/etc. besides Facebook, phone (trust me, unlimited talk and text would STILL not be enough), and email. I also had blog-envy because if you read my very first post, you'll know that I need a somewhat creative writing outlet. So, here we are.
Every week we're aiming to tackle a different topic that's relevant to us as mothers/wives/BFFs. Or it could be completely random. That's the joy of being your own blog boss. We're going to post on the same topic in tandem. Hence, our fabulous weekly blog post that will now be known as "Randomly Tandemly". Enjoy it if you will. If you don't - stop reading (and PS, we don't want to hear your complaints). I'll be linking to Courtney's blog from my page and vice versa. We're really excited to get started and in the near future you'll (hopefully) be reading our first Randomly Tandemly blog about "the Sickies". Yes, nothing says good writing like starting out with a touch of grossness. But please enjoy anyway. We're looking forward to posting more!
Monday, February 15, 2010
Where to Begin
Welcome one and all, to the first of what will undoubtedly be a catalog of episodes that pertain to my life's experiences. You are hereby officially entitled to my opinion, which I will share willingly and on many topics.
I've started this blog in an effort to reclaim a bit of myself through writing and humor - two things that I cherish - and only one of which I get to exercise on my own terms each day. In between the chaos of work, kid, home, pets, family, school, and whatever else can be thrown into that mix, there is a part of me that longs for the days of creative writing assignments in college. Slightly sad? Yes and no. Although it always included a deadline, I miss the "free" time associated with a good writing assignment. It was my creative outlet to show my humor, personality, annoyances, concerns, and what-have-you. (Upon finishing that sentence I hear former English and Writing majors around the world cheering in unison.) So here I am, doing the abbreviated version of a self-imposed writing assignment.
In fairness to my readers (I think at present there's a whole 1 of you. Woo hoo!), I thought I should lay some ground rules for both of us, before I really take off with this thing. Shall we begin?
Rules for Me
1. Do not be intentionally mean to or complain about people by name on this blog, simply because you have the forum to do it. People have feelings and karma is a bitch.
2. Post regularly because it's good for your sanity. Aim for weekly.
3. Be ready for feedback (good and bad) because you will get it. And depending on the post, lots of it... which you may not like.
4. Follow-up to #3... Recognize that everyone else has an opinion they usually feel entitled to share too. Don't get too bent out of shape if someone disagrees with you.
5. Do not post about work. In the immortal words of Dooce.com, "Be ye not so stupid."
6. Be grateful for the opportunity to share your thoughts.
Rules for You (my readers)
1. The Golden Rule. If you don't like what I have posted, stop reading and find another blog. Remember, you CHOSE to read my blog. It is my opinion on whatever I choose to write about and no one but YOU can make YOU read it.
2. "Rules for Me" #1 applies to you too. The comments section is not a place to pick fights, start nasty political debates, etc. Play nice.
3. "Rules for Me" #3 also applies to you. Life would be pretty boring if we all agreed all the time.
4. Share an experience if you think it will be helpful to me or other readers. Keep it positive.
5. Do not presume to know my opinion or stance on something unless I specifically tell you.
6. Don't be surprised if I correct your grammar or spelling. It's a sickness and I'm working on it.
7. Enjoy my posts!
So there you have it. My first blog. Yay me, lucky you. I look forward to sharing a lot of my thoughts and scratching that creative/writing/opinion-offering itch.
Thanks for reading!
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