Sometimes it would be so much easier to be a man. This thought comes into my head periodically and recently has resurfaced once more. Shopping for clothes tends to make this happen. Case in point: We have a fancy event coming up (and by fancy I mean essentially an adult prom) that we attend every year due to Clay's job and presence on the Chamber board. Truthfully, it has become a fun evening for me with dinner, dancing, and good conversation as well as the chance for a door prize or a bid on an auction item. The not so fun part is trying to find something appropriate to wear to this damn thing every year.
The guys, of course, have it simple. A suit (90% wear black so not even a question there) or if they really wish to jazz it up, a tux. Even the color shirt is pretty easy as almost all wear red or white due to the timing of the event and its proximity to Valentine's Day. For us ladies though not so simple. We need a gown and color is only one of a billion things to consider.
For me, I always play it safe and go with black as it is classic and always is appropriate. Don't get me wrong, I do not mind being noticed (what girl does?) but I would prefer not to be the one lady clad in peach or baby blue, and advertising that I last wore this dress as a bridesmaid in my friend's wedding. However, I understand the wish to reuse those bridesmaid dresses..... I mean you spent money on them, they were tailored to fit you, and who wants to blow a sizable amount of money on another dress that you most likely will also wear only once? The problem with a bridesmaid dress is that it usually will always look like a bridesmaid dress, even if you try to change it in some way. So for me, black and no revisiting of bridesmaid dresses.
My next issue is finding something that is age appropriate. This truly becomes a challenge for those of us who still fit in junior clothing and tend to look our age or perhaps younger depending on how we dress. To put it bluntly, while a lot of junior dresses fit me, I too often look like I might be attending a high school homecoming dance as opposed to an event where alcohol is actually served. Keeping this in mind and the fact that I loathe my legs (and yes, I mean loathe. They are big, muscular, and my thighs are not fit for public viewing. Plus, I know it sounds weird but I have ugly knees) I always go for a long gown. So, at this point you are saying, "Okay, long black gown, not bridesmaidy, and not high school. Got it. How hard is it to find a long, black gown?" Ahh, but you do not live in the U.P. where there is not exactly a high demand for formal wear. Choices and places to look are somewhat limited, and as any woman understands, shopping on-line for something like a dress is fraught with risk as you never know how it might end up fitting despite measuring, comparing and calculating to our best ability. What is a size six in one style/brand is a ten in another.
Of course, if you manage to find a dress, and it actually meets the standards you require (like not too tight in the thighs, not too bare, not too racy, not too slutty, not too matronly, not too boring, not too loose in the top, not too gaudy with sequins, beads etc., and of course, not too expensive) then you are still stuck trying to find the right undergarments to wear with the dress. Of course, the dress I picked out this year ended up being lower-backed, which creates its own set of challenges. Last year I wore those bra cups that actually adhere to your skin around your breast and then hook together with a small clasp. Amazingly, they are actually comfortable and manage to give you a little "boost" where you need it. One problem though. Or should I say major design flaw. You had better not get warm and start to perspire too much! There I was, having a grand evening when I decided to go dance a bit with some of the girls. After a couple of drinks I was getting my "groove on" and having fun..... until my sticky bra cups started sliding south. Yup. There I was on the dance floor, trying casually to push those damn things back into their original positions. While they never slid right off it felt like they were going to wind up around my ankles at any moment, so I quickly vacated the dance floor. Turns out the adhesive does not work so well if you get hot. Keep in mind I was warm from dancing, but it wasn't like I had just ran thirty minutes on the treadmill and was dripping. I would hate to think what they would be like if you wore them to a summer barbecue! Note to self: No sticky bra cups if you are planning on doing anything other than standing around and then only in cold weather.
Spanx are a great invention though. Footless pantyhose that actually do what they promise. They smooth you all over, hold in that tummy, minimize the thighs, no panty lines and don't require you to feel as if you are in an iron maiden when wearing them. Thank god for the WOMAN who invented such a sensible item.
Yup, all in all it is much easier to be the man when it comes to a formal evening out. Yet, despite the extra effort it sometimes requires to be of the feminine sex there is not enough money in the world to make me ever wish to be a man. I mean ladies, we all know our bodies are much more attractive in their design, and we are actually comfortable and secure in expressing our emotions. We do not find it necessary to always get in a fight to resolve a conflict nor is it required that we smack each others ass when we do a good job. Not too mention our intuition is way more accurate. Really, I could go on forever as to the advantages, but suffice it to say that other then the clothes thing (that and maybe the ability to pee standing up!) men can keep their testosterone. Bring on the spanx and sticky bras!
Monday, January 21, 2008
Thursday, January 10, 2008
The Agony of Indecision
I cannot believe it, but I am leaning towards turning down a chance to return to Hawaii. I say return because I have been there before, visiting the islands of Oahu and Maui. It was an amazing, once in a lifetime, better than you could ever dream kind of trip. Basically, the kind of vacation one would always dream of having in a perfect world but in reality can never accomplish.
We could go back. Spend a little over a week in a condo with our friends, swim in the Pacific, tour the coastlines, take a cruise, relax on the beach, and yet I am thinking we won't go. Why, you ask? Why, on this earth could I possibly say no?
There are a lot of little reasons. It comes at an already busy time of year. It costs money that we can afford to spend but could be spent more wisely elsewhere. There is hardly any time to plan and we would be rushing around like maniacs. It would involve asking a variety of people, namely family members, to help us out and impose quite a lot on them. Truly, though there is only one reason.
Isabelle. The thought of leaving her for more than a couple of days creates this pit in my stomach that threatens to swallow me entirely. We would have to leave her for probably eight nights, maybe more depending on flights and weather. Her loving grandparents would take care of her, but it seems like such a tremendous favor to ask for. After all, we are talking all of the duties of child rearing, not just a few fun-filled hours of play time. And what if she misses me or wants me and I am gone? I know, I know, she can miss me in two hours as well as eight days, but I wouldn't be there as soon to comfort her if she did. She isn't old enough to really understand going away too much yet. The logistics of planning for us to go away as well as pack for Isabelle to go to one grandma's house for the first half of our trip and then prepare our house for the other grandma to come and stay and watch her during the second half, is daunting to say the least. I know she would be fine. Logically, I can look at the situation and say, "Go, have fun, she is with people who love her and care for her. She couldn't be safer." But emotionally. Ahh, emotionally it is another story.
I remember thinking that line about your children taking a piece of your heart with them when they were born was absolute drivel. Then I had a child. Turns out that is pretty close to the mark, but it is more like I forget how to breathe when she is away from me too long. And the worry! My mother told me that once you have kids you never stop worrying. Another line, which I thought was sort of over the top, but that happens to be true as well. Right now I worry about mundane things. Did she eat enough? Is she sleeping well? Is that sniffle turning into a cold? Am I raising her to be a polite, intelligent, productive adult or have I already completely screwed her up? (okay, maybe not all mundane) Later, I will worry about her meeting the right guy, finding her happiness and being her own person. So, all of that so-called drivel turns out to be accurate. My soul is not just my own anymore, for I share it with a small whirlwind of love, exuberance, and activity, that is my daughter.
Part of what I wish to teach Isabelle though is to take advantage of the life you are given and not always do the safe or practical thing. I have never been particularly spontaneous. It is not in my nature. So, sometimes I worry that I let some chances/opportunities pass me by because I am too busy being responsible or doing the "right" thing. I know we could take this trip later. I just question whether we actually will. And while I think I would feel better leaving her if she were older than two, I know the first time I leave her for over a week will still be hard no matter if she is four or twelve. So, what to do?
I have no clue. I think I will go hug my daughter and dream of a warm sand beach.
We could go back. Spend a little over a week in a condo with our friends, swim in the Pacific, tour the coastlines, take a cruise, relax on the beach, and yet I am thinking we won't go. Why, you ask? Why, on this earth could I possibly say no?
There are a lot of little reasons. It comes at an already busy time of year. It costs money that we can afford to spend but could be spent more wisely elsewhere. There is hardly any time to plan and we would be rushing around like maniacs. It would involve asking a variety of people, namely family members, to help us out and impose quite a lot on them. Truly, though there is only one reason.
Isabelle. The thought of leaving her for more than a couple of days creates this pit in my stomach that threatens to swallow me entirely. We would have to leave her for probably eight nights, maybe more depending on flights and weather. Her loving grandparents would take care of her, but it seems like such a tremendous favor to ask for. After all, we are talking all of the duties of child rearing, not just a few fun-filled hours of play time. And what if she misses me or wants me and I am gone? I know, I know, she can miss me in two hours as well as eight days, but I wouldn't be there as soon to comfort her if she did. She isn't old enough to really understand going away too much yet. The logistics of planning for us to go away as well as pack for Isabelle to go to one grandma's house for the first half of our trip and then prepare our house for the other grandma to come and stay and watch her during the second half, is daunting to say the least. I know she would be fine. Logically, I can look at the situation and say, "Go, have fun, she is with people who love her and care for her. She couldn't be safer." But emotionally. Ahh, emotionally it is another story.
I remember thinking that line about your children taking a piece of your heart with them when they were born was absolute drivel. Then I had a child. Turns out that is pretty close to the mark, but it is more like I forget how to breathe when she is away from me too long. And the worry! My mother told me that once you have kids you never stop worrying. Another line, which I thought was sort of over the top, but that happens to be true as well. Right now I worry about mundane things. Did she eat enough? Is she sleeping well? Is that sniffle turning into a cold? Am I raising her to be a polite, intelligent, productive adult or have I already completely screwed her up? (okay, maybe not all mundane) Later, I will worry about her meeting the right guy, finding her happiness and being her own person. So, all of that so-called drivel turns out to be accurate. My soul is not just my own anymore, for I share it with a small whirlwind of love, exuberance, and activity, that is my daughter.
Part of what I wish to teach Isabelle though is to take advantage of the life you are given and not always do the safe or practical thing. I have never been particularly spontaneous. It is not in my nature. So, sometimes I worry that I let some chances/opportunities pass me by because I am too busy being responsible or doing the "right" thing. I know we could take this trip later. I just question whether we actually will. And while I think I would feel better leaving her if she were older than two, I know the first time I leave her for over a week will still be hard no matter if she is four or twelve. So, what to do?
I have no clue. I think I will go hug my daughter and dream of a warm sand beach.
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
A Day in the Life of My Cats
Key Figures:
Mindy - Domestic, black and white, long haired cat. The epitome of elegance and refinement. Maintains the classic somewhat standoffish character attributed to so many cats. Impeccable grooming, precise habits, and harbors strong fears for vacuums, strangers, and any loud noise. History of an abusive background before being adopted from a local animal shelter.
Nib - Named after one of the lost boys in Peter Pan after being found at the town dump as a kitten. Domestic orange tabby, short hair. Very obese, weighing in at about 20 lbs. Arguably the dumbest cat I have ever encountered, but incredibly loving and affectionate to the point of being obnoxious. Clumsy, lazy, and essentially clueless, but maintains a happy, tolerant attitude.
In the morning:
6-8:30 a.m.
Nib- "Hungry, hungry, hungry. Why is my bowl still empty? Isn't it time to eat? Are they up yet? Oh good, she is up! Feed me, feed me , feed me! Why isn't she feeding me? Am I not loud enough? She is feeding the kid. Come on, what about me? Only fresh water? I am starving here!"
Mindy- "Good Lord, would that stupid imbecile quit with all of the noise? I am still trying to get my beauty sleep here. The fat pig certainly doesn't need to eat anymore. Maybe I can actually get a fresh drink of water now without having to wade through all of his slobber."
8:30-9:30 a.m.
Nib- "Man, I am hungry. Why does she run on that track thing every morning? She always seems so tired after, so why do it? Here comes the kid, look out! Why is she driving that toy on me? Ummmm, that kinda feels good though. Hey, kid, a little to the left, would ya? Oh yeah, that is nice. Here, let me roll over and you can do my belly."
Mindy- (still ensconced in cat bed on rocker in the living room) "Getting a quality rest around here is virtually impossible with all of this racket."
9:30-10:00 a.m.
Nib - "Why anyone would want to get all wet is beyond me, but I do enjoy just lounging here on the bathroom counter. What does a cat gotta do to get some food around here? Wait. Is that a crumb? Nope, looks like a part of the towel. Maybe I should eat it anyway, just in case."
Mindy - "I suppose I should get some breakfast from the dish downstairs. Fortunately, she has sense enough to put that one where the fat boy cannot reach it or I would waste away to nothing. He has no discipline! No class! Why she brought him home I will never know."
In the afternoon:
10:00-5:00 p.m.
Nib - "My bowl is still empty. I better get some rest and conserve my energy." (finds his typical spot under our bed) Was that the can opener I heard? Oh, no, false alarm."
2:00-3:00 p.m.
Mindy - "Finally! The disgrace to the cat world is asleep and so is the child. Now perhaps I can give a little attention to her. She must be missing me. Hello, darling, would you like to pet me? Oh, look, she wants me to sit on her lap. Well, I suppose for a little while it would be alright. Hmmm, this is actually rather pleasant. I might purr. Just a little though and certainly not as loud as SOME cats in this house. One must maintain one's image, after all."
In the evening:
5:30-6:00 p.m.
Nib - "I smell food. They are eating! Maybe if I go downstairs the kid will drop something from her chair!"
Mindy - "I feel simply filthy. I must bathe. One can never be too clean after all, and I distinctly detect that the eight hundredth hair on my back is about one millimeter out of place. Unacceptable."
7:00 p.m.
Nib - DINNER!!!!!!!!!! Yay! FOOD!! Gimme the bowl, gimme the bowl, gimme the bowl. Oh, I love you, I love you , I love you. Thank you, thank you. Yum. Hey, fancy pants, back off. This is my food bowl, and I am hungry. Go groom yourself or something."
Mindy - "Really! How rude! Ah, I see she is taking my dish downstairs. So much the better. One does not wish to eat with the barbarian anyways. Dropping food everywhere and making a mess."
8:00-10:00 p.m.
Nib - "Ahhhhhh, that was good. Burp! I think I will go sprawl out on the floor downstairs and wait for someone to pet me, kick me, whatever. I am not picky. Ooooh! Better yet, her lap looks open. I will just shove that book thing aside and I am in!"
Mindy - (Grooming, again and getting every last possible particle of food off of her whiskers)
10:45-11:00 p.m.
Nib - (Approaching Mindy sitting on the living room floor) "Come on, sweets, I know you want to wrestle a bit. You play hard to get, but you like it. Secretly, you love me." (Nipping around her neck)
Mindy - "Oh please, be off with you, tramp. That's it, now you have forced me to put you in your place!" (Tumbling ensues with a series of take downs by Mindy as Nib gets winded and must lay on the floor, baring his belly and swatting feebly at her when she jumps on him. Mindy does one or two wind sprints up and down the stairs. Nib joins in partially for one before deciding it is too much work and lays back down.) "Oh, my. I feel rather good now. Hopefully, you learned your lesson fat one. Don't mess with a lady! I am off to bathe and hold vigil for a while by the front window while they sleep. You don't bother me and go do.... whatever it is you do."
Nib - "Ah, now, don't be that way. We had fun, didn't we? I think I will go find a spot on the bed. They love me sleeping with them. Just push some legs over and Bam! I got a great spot. Good night, fancy pants."
Mindy - Domestic, black and white, long haired cat. The epitome of elegance and refinement. Maintains the classic somewhat standoffish character attributed to so many cats. Impeccable grooming, precise habits, and harbors strong fears for vacuums, strangers, and any loud noise. History of an abusive background before being adopted from a local animal shelter.
Nib - Named after one of the lost boys in Peter Pan after being found at the town dump as a kitten. Domestic orange tabby, short hair. Very obese, weighing in at about 20 lbs. Arguably the dumbest cat I have ever encountered, but incredibly loving and affectionate to the point of being obnoxious. Clumsy, lazy, and essentially clueless, but maintains a happy, tolerant attitude.
In the morning:
6-8:30 a.m.
Nib- "Hungry, hungry, hungry. Why is my bowl still empty? Isn't it time to eat? Are they up yet? Oh good, she is up! Feed me, feed me , feed me! Why isn't she feeding me? Am I not loud enough? She is feeding the kid. Come on, what about me? Only fresh water? I am starving here!"
Mindy- "Good Lord, would that stupid imbecile quit with all of the noise? I am still trying to get my beauty sleep here. The fat pig certainly doesn't need to eat anymore. Maybe I can actually get a fresh drink of water now without having to wade through all of his slobber."
8:30-9:30 a.m.
Nib- "Man, I am hungry. Why does she run on that track thing every morning? She always seems so tired after, so why do it? Here comes the kid, look out! Why is she driving that toy on me? Ummmm, that kinda feels good though. Hey, kid, a little to the left, would ya? Oh yeah, that is nice. Here, let me roll over and you can do my belly."
Mindy- (still ensconced in cat bed on rocker in the living room) "Getting a quality rest around here is virtually impossible with all of this racket."
9:30-10:00 a.m.
Nib - "Why anyone would want to get all wet is beyond me, but I do enjoy just lounging here on the bathroom counter. What does a cat gotta do to get some food around here? Wait. Is that a crumb? Nope, looks like a part of the towel. Maybe I should eat it anyway, just in case."
Mindy - "I suppose I should get some breakfast from the dish downstairs. Fortunately, she has sense enough to put that one where the fat boy cannot reach it or I would waste away to nothing. He has no discipline! No class! Why she brought him home I will never know."
In the afternoon:
10:00-5:00 p.m.
Nib - "My bowl is still empty. I better get some rest and conserve my energy." (finds his typical spot under our bed) Was that the can opener I heard? Oh, no, false alarm."
2:00-3:00 p.m.
Mindy - "Finally! The disgrace to the cat world is asleep and so is the child. Now perhaps I can give a little attention to her. She must be missing me. Hello, darling, would you like to pet me? Oh, look, she wants me to sit on her lap. Well, I suppose for a little while it would be alright. Hmmm, this is actually rather pleasant. I might purr. Just a little though and certainly not as loud as SOME cats in this house. One must maintain one's image, after all."
In the evening:
5:30-6:00 p.m.
Nib - "I smell food. They are eating! Maybe if I go downstairs the kid will drop something from her chair!"
Mindy - "I feel simply filthy. I must bathe. One can never be too clean after all, and I distinctly detect that the eight hundredth hair on my back is about one millimeter out of place. Unacceptable."
7:00 p.m.
Nib - DINNER!!!!!!!!!! Yay! FOOD!! Gimme the bowl, gimme the bowl, gimme the bowl. Oh, I love you, I love you , I love you. Thank you, thank you. Yum. Hey, fancy pants, back off. This is my food bowl, and I am hungry. Go groom yourself or something."
Mindy - "Really! How rude! Ah, I see she is taking my dish downstairs. So much the better. One does not wish to eat with the barbarian anyways. Dropping food everywhere and making a mess."
8:00-10:00 p.m.
Nib - "Ahhhhhh, that was good. Burp! I think I will go sprawl out on the floor downstairs and wait for someone to pet me, kick me, whatever. I am not picky. Ooooh! Better yet, her lap looks open. I will just shove that book thing aside and I am in!"
Mindy - (Grooming, again and getting every last possible particle of food off of her whiskers)
10:45-11:00 p.m.
Nib - (Approaching Mindy sitting on the living room floor) "Come on, sweets, I know you want to wrestle a bit. You play hard to get, but you like it. Secretly, you love me." (Nipping around her neck)
Mindy - "Oh please, be off with you, tramp. That's it, now you have forced me to put you in your place!" (Tumbling ensues with a series of take downs by Mindy as Nib gets winded and must lay on the floor, baring his belly and swatting feebly at her when she jumps on him. Mindy does one or two wind sprints up and down the stairs. Nib joins in partially for one before deciding it is too much work and lays back down.) "Oh, my. I feel rather good now. Hopefully, you learned your lesson fat one. Don't mess with a lady! I am off to bathe and hold vigil for a while by the front window while they sleep. You don't bother me and go do.... whatever it is you do."
Nib - "Ah, now, don't be that way. We had fun, didn't we? I think I will go find a spot on the bed. They love me sleeping with them. Just push some legs over and Bam! I got a great spot. Good night, fancy pants."
Thursday, January 3, 2008
Loose Ends, Taking Stock, and Getting There
I am feeling at loose ends tonight. I think it is the inevitable come down after the Christmas rush. I went from the focus of the holdays into the relative calm of January, and now I am looking for what is next. This combined with the total trash that is called entertainment nowadays on television, and the fact that the books I ordered from Amazon are not here yet, and I am not unlike my two and a half year old asking, "where we going next, mommy?"
Of course, this is also the time of year when we are all supposedly "taking stock" of our lives and where we are within them. While I do not believe in all the making resolutions crap I am up for a quick evaluation. So, where am I? Ummmmm, happily married (for the most part... but it is a real marriage not the soap opera, movie kind, which means sometimes it is routine, sometimes it is great and sometimes it is not so great. Yet it is always secure in its love, values, and goals and that is why I know we are in it for life.) I would say I am about five pounds too heavy (in my view anyway. I am obese by hollywood standards and probably fine according to the majority of Americans). I am better health-wise then I probably have ever been because I work out regulary, sleep fairly well, and eat pretty balanced meals. Overall, I am content with my social circle, our financial situation, our house... and of course, continually more in love with my child everyday. So, is anything missing?
Yes. I am not sure I even have a name for it. I need something that is just my own. Maybe a job, but maybe it is more just a purpose or a thing to be identified for. An identity that goes beyond wife and mother, daughter and sister, into who I am as an individual. Except I have no clear vision or goal as to how to get there or what "there" even is. My father-in-law has made the statement, "I still do not know what I want to be when I grow up" and sometimes I feel the same way. The truth is I am already in the two roles I have wanted my whole life: wife and mother. Now I just need to figure out what that third role might be. I am confident I will... eventually. Right now though I am going to find a book to reread (send me my new books, Amazon!) and lose myself in the roles the main character plays.
Of course, this is also the time of year when we are all supposedly "taking stock" of our lives and where we are within them. While I do not believe in all the making resolutions crap I am up for a quick evaluation. So, where am I? Ummmmm, happily married (for the most part... but it is a real marriage not the soap opera, movie kind, which means sometimes it is routine, sometimes it is great and sometimes it is not so great. Yet it is always secure in its love, values, and goals and that is why I know we are in it for life.) I would say I am about five pounds too heavy (in my view anyway. I am obese by hollywood standards and probably fine according to the majority of Americans). I am better health-wise then I probably have ever been because I work out regulary, sleep fairly well, and eat pretty balanced meals. Overall, I am content with my social circle, our financial situation, our house... and of course, continually more in love with my child everyday. So, is anything missing?
Yes. I am not sure I even have a name for it. I need something that is just my own. Maybe a job, but maybe it is more just a purpose or a thing to be identified for. An identity that goes beyond wife and mother, daughter and sister, into who I am as an individual. Except I have no clear vision or goal as to how to get there or what "there" even is. My father-in-law has made the statement, "I still do not know what I want to be when I grow up" and sometimes I feel the same way. The truth is I am already in the two roles I have wanted my whole life: wife and mother. Now I just need to figure out what that third role might be. I am confident I will... eventually. Right now though I am going to find a book to reread (send me my new books, Amazon!) and lose myself in the roles the main character plays.
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