There's a tear in my Whine...

My son asked me the other day why I cry when we are watching something sad on tv and at the time I remember responding with something lame like, "oh, it's just sad to me and I feel bad for the people on the show." Of course he just shrugged it off like it was just another episode of Wipeout and the evening ran its course.

But it made me think, why do I cry so easily at some things and other times I'm the epitome of composure? It made me think about all the times I have swallowed back my tears because I don't want my son to see how sad and hurt and scared I am and so I pretend that everything is just fine and we are going to plow right through this situation.  I remember when we moved from St. Louis to Florida and as we pulled away from the house with all of our belongings in the truck I wanted to just curl up in a ball and cry and cry and cry. I wanted to cry for all the friends I had made and would surely miss. I wanted to cry for the fifth grade camp my son was never going to experience and I wanted to cry for all of the future memories we would surely make.  I remember leaving the house in Sioux Falls where we spent six long years in a cozy neighborhood with great friends. We pulled away from the house on a snowy grey Monday afternoon and I wanted to cry and cry again, but I had to pull myself together because it was just me and TJ and he was doing enough crying for the both of us.

I think it's kind of sad that I have to weigh when the appropriate time to cry is. I want to protect my family during those hard times where I just want to throw my hands in the air and say "enough!" So I guess I let all my hurt out in those innocuous moments where it's "safe" to let it all out. In this way I am not letting anyone down and I don't appear weak. Some days I really do have my shit together and then other days I just can't possibly keep those emotions in and they come pouring out like someone turned on the faucet.  I know my husband must look at me like, "Oh what fresh hell is this" and if he only knew.

I think my tears may be misplaced, but they serve me well in times when I just need to release the emotions I have pent up inside me.  Sometimes witnessing acts of kindness can reduce me to tears in the simplest most beautiful way. So I'm ok with being a crybaby. Now I just have to deal with the honesty of my tears.


(This is dedicated to my Aunt Grace and Grandma B...two amazing beautiful women who were ok with me crying and loved me anyway!)

A Post for Mary....

I think we all have certain friends in this world where it doesn't matter if you live next door, in the next city or miles and miles away from each other, you can always pick up where you left off.  You can be yourself and not just the best "version" of yourself.

I have a few friends that fall into this category, but one friend stands out in my mind.  Miss Mary.  You see, that may seem a bit formal to you, but Miss Mary is a classy lady who has the bluest eyes you have ever seen and one of the greatest smiles ever. She has an extremely warm heart and let me tell you this, you WANT this person in your corner when life gets sticky.  There is "calm" and then there is Mary! Mary knows how to make you sit back and reassess without jumping off the roof and I should know because she has talked me down a few times.

So, for all of us who have wonderful friends out there like Miss Mary, be GRATEFUL and do not let go of this friend.

Thank you Mary for reminding me that I love to write....stay tuned for more!

Parenting Skills Whine...

I have been watching my son play sports since he was four years old. Sometimes
it was as exciting as watching paint dry and other times I was just blown away by
the sheer luck, happenstance or do I dare say talent that allowed some pretty great
plays to unfold before my eyes.

I have had to learn some cardinal rules:

1. Mother's do not belong in the dug out.
2. You cannot cover your eyes and grimace when your son takes a
    particularly hard hit.
3. You need to ignore other parents negative comments...ok, screw that one,
    I could never idly sit by if my son's "talent" is being called into question.
4. Let the coaches do their job.

I have to admit that I am sometimes a nervous wreck when my son pitches. He is
a lefty with a good arm and he throws hard & fast.....he sometimes misses the plate
completely. I am more worried about him hitting other players than actually striking
someone out! What is wrong with me?!!! I should be celebrating my sons ability and
all I can think about is someone else getting hurt.

That is so wrong

The same thing happens in football.  I am never worried about TJ getting hurt.
I worry about the little guy on the team or the fact that kid ends up playing both lines
and takes hit after hit. It barely registers that he is dishing out some great tackles
on his own. His football coach once came up to me and said "I don't know what TJ
had for breakfast, but I'm pretty sure he broke some human rights laws out there
today and I LOVED it!" I didn't know whether to beam with pride or remember
what I fed him for breakfast!

I do know that this amazing kid can be so sensitive with me it would break your
heart. I know that he thinks his dad is amazing and just wants to be like him.
I know that I need to have a little more faith in his ability and capacity to navigate
life a little more on his own.

Letting go, even a little tiny bit every day still breaks my heart.

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall Whine

Ok, I will admit, I am spending a little more time looking in the mirror these days
than I ever have before. Truthfully, I like the face that looks back at me, but
anything south of the shoulders is the bane of my existence.

Sadly, I have said that for over 20 years, but when I see pictures of my 20 year
old self, I think, "you stupid woman, you wasted far too many years
complaining about nothing.  Isn't there a song that says  "You are not as fat as
you think." I think I need that tattooed somewhere on my body.  I think
I would be amazed if I took all the wasted hours of worrying over my looks
and put it towards something more productive. I would probably be rocket
scientist by now.

My point is this....stop looking at all the bad things and look for all the good
things and trust me they are there! If you ever start feeling really bad
about yourself look at those gawd-awful pictures of people shopping
in Walmart that look like they just crawled out of the National Enquirer!
Someone in those pictures will always have more cellulite and less class
than you. Oh, and if you are one of those people in the Walmart pictures I
sincerely hope that was a wake up call to perhaps get a bit of a makeover.

I think I just need a new mirror, better lighting and crisp chardonnay.

Martha Stewart Crafter's Whine

I don't know about you, but I could spend days in Michael's. The promise of
excelling at any project of my choosing is so intoxicating. I could be a jewelry
designer, a stamper, a scrap book artist or a painter of any medium all within
the space of an hour. My credit card starts to hum in my wallet and I take on
the demeanor of Martha Stewart minus the helmet hairand prison record.

Walking down the oil paint aisle I literally convulse in pure delight at all the
possibility laying before me. A blank canvas goes beyond all philosophical
discussions of tabula rasa and I'm momentarily paralyzed with the plethora of
options dancing in my head. I sometimes have to just sit down and take it all in. 
I can't stay too long or else I start feeling like a turtle that just wants to shove its
head inside his shell because all the stimulus is just way too much!

I may not be the best painter, but I'm learning every day. I don't think I will ever
tire of hearing someone say "You painted that??"  I could be happy with paint up
to my elbows if it were only my opinion that counted. I get nervous when people
start to say things like "You should sell this stuff" or "Have you thought about
approaching XYX company to sell your stuff on consignment?" Poof....here
comes the turtle.

Call it a lack of confidence, call it laziness, I don't know what to call it. I just know
that I am happiest painting when there is nothing but joy attached to it and the
feeling of finishing what I started.

I can toast to that!

People Pleasing Whine

How many times have you replayed a conversation in your head and wished for a
better conclusion? How many times have you wished you said "Yes" or "No" or
even "Let me think about that" to at least buy you some time to think the request
through? Sometimes I am just drop-dead-tired from trying to be all things to
everyone.

Most of this is family related. You would think that I could cut myself some slack
where family is concerned, but for some reason I am over here tapping dancing on
egg shells trying to make everyone happy, do the right thing and give the right
answers.

I am failing miserably.

There are days when I sometimes can't balance what I need to do in my personal
life, my family life, my work and my friends. I wish I had even one more hour in
the day to devote to each category to finally check off some items on my "to-do"
list. Pretty sure I am preaching to the masses here....who the hell doesn't feel this way?

But here's the thing...life cannot be a to-do list. Life is constant motion with full
"in trays" and sometimes all things cannot be completely balanced. I think we
have to stop seeing our day to day life as a ledger in which columns are all neat
and balanced.  I think a sense of humor is the key to fewer gray hairs and an
ability to pick the better wine.  I think we all need to blatantly give ourselves
permission to not be perfect and blissfully navigate our days utilizing our gut instincts
and let the concept of "perfection" disappear. 

Be kind and drink wine!

Crying When You Are Happy Whine

Why do women cry when they are happy? What is it in our DNA that
allows for such a spectacle of emotion when we should be laughing
until our sides split with happiness one moment and the next moment
we are wringing out the hanky with our tears?

I do this all the time...in fact I am writing to you in a haze of tears
because my mom has given me some fantastic news and this will allow
me to see her in a few months and I am so completely overjoyed at
the prospect of being able to hug her, but at the same time I am searching
for the tissues because I can't stop crying!

I do this during long distance phone commercials, the Notebook and
anything to do with children and I should be able to accept this part
of myself, yet I can't. I live in a household that has more y chromosomes so
I find myself kind of hiding my emotions and skirting the issues of my
tears. This really can't be a good thing if I am trying to raise a strong,
sensitive boy who can help bring out the best in his chosen friends. I know
he is 10 right now and finds the fact that body odor is a funny topic so we
have a ways to go in the sensitivity issue, but I am planting the seeds.

I am crying and laughing at the same time and I am not going to make
any apologies for it. This is who I am, this is how I filter the world and if
it takes an extra glass of house white than so be it. I'd rather cry when I
am happy and not quite understand than be stoic and unmoving because
that is what is expected of me as a role model.

Another round for my friends sil vous plait!