The Trifecta Of Nasty Habits And Why I’d Never Date You. Ever.

I was a little ticked at my husband today. Yet again, he (fill in the blank.) And so I had to (fill in the blank again.) And with the way the day started out I sure as heck didn’t want to (you’d better sharpen your pencil.)

It really made me angry.

So, I was still fuming a little this morning, after I dropped the kids to school. The light turned yellow and then red. We were stuck at a pretty long traffic light. I say “we” because the car ahead of me had a really cute guy in the driver’s seat.

Sandy blond hair. White shirt, tie. Driving a clean, black luxury vehicle. Ooooo, he just looked at me again in his side mirror.

He smiled at me. I smiled at him.

Ahhhh, I remember my single days. Carefree. Free to look. Free to dream. Free to — whaaaaa?

Was that a stream of spit I saw spewing out the window? Ick. Ewwwww, and another? Are you kidding me?

No longer checking me out, he then tosses his still burning cigarette butt onto the street. Does he not know that cigarettes take 25 years to decompose? What a litter bug! What a slob! I feel sorry for whoever lives with….

Is he doing what I think he’s doing?

He IS!

He’s picking his nose! Gross. He’s rolling it around between his fingers and he just flicked THAT out the window!

That did it. He just committed, in a minute and twenty-second time period, the Trifecta-Of-Nasty-Habits-And-Why-I’d-Never-Date-You.

Thank God I’m already married.

I am so lucky, Honey! You are the best husband EVER! 

(Sorry for the re-run. My sister is in town (for 10 days!) and she doesn’t even know I blog. And I’m not telling her now. So, I’m going to be a bit scarce. I’ll try to sneak online but in the meantime, here are a few of my favorite posts. Enjoy your week!)

The Grass Isn’t Greener. It’s Just Different.

(To celebrate her high school graduation, my daughter and I are on a little hiatus together. A mother/daughter hiatus. I will be posting some of my favorite posts in the interim. Enjoy!)

A close friend was going through some struggles in her marriage. And if you believe in coincidences, a blast from her past appeared unexpectedly. They ran into each other at a sporting event. She was with her husband and 2 other couples. They chatted about old times and he encouraged them (a few of the people in the party, including my friend)  to stay in touch.  Well, she did. One thing led to another and they were about to do something they probably shouldn’t but she stopped.

She has a loving husband. Beautiful children. Comfortable home. Good job. Loving friends and family. She was so embarrassed and upset that she had been tempted. But things weren’t as perfect as they seemed in her marriage and she started listing all of the cons in her relationship with her husband. The magic is gone. He doesn’t appreciate me. His priorities always take precedence. And on. And on.

I asked her to look at the pros. But all she could think of was the excitement that this ex was providing. She was so caught up with the magic she couldn’t see why they had ended it so long ago. And I told her; The grass isn’t greener. It’s just different.

Some varieties need more attention, more water. They need to be cut more often and edged a certain way. Others are less needy. You can skip watering and let nature take care of it. It doesn’t need to be weeded or fertilized. There are so many varieties out there. You have to decide which variety is best for your lawn, where you’re living and how much time you have to devote to it. You make your decision and then work with it.

I’m so glad my friend decided not to go back to her ex. She’s making it work with her husband. But recently she told me that when I told her about “the grass not being greener” she was just listening politely to me. She didn’t really get it. It didn’t hit her until the ex said something that dragged her back to reality. It brought back all of the reasons why they had broken up and she didn’t want to deal with such a high maintenance lawn.

She liked her life the way it was. She was familiar with this variety. And while there was some weeding to do and she never could quite get which fertilizer to use when; it WAS a beautiful lawn.

If I Could Have Just One, Make That Ten, Do-overs

If  I could just have one do-over, I would have let Scott kiss me and said, “Yes. I will go with you.” (“go with” as in date…well, as much as you can date when you’re in the 6th grade.)

If I could have nine more do-overs? I would have…

…gone to law school immediately after college. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200.

…found a way to live closer to my favorite place in the world. (Don’t laugh) Yes, that would be Disney World.

…stopped every stupid lesson plan that started going wrong and pushed my students harder instead of letting them (goof off) explore their creative impulses.  

…stood up to my mother more in my twenties when I was an adult and in charge of my life.

…pushed and pursued a singing career with a little more effort. Opportunities just fell into my lap and I took them all for granted.

…called my grandparents more often and begged to hear story after story after story and written every single one of them down afterwards.

…listened to my mid-wife when she told me that losing weight after a baby is difficult. Even more difficult when you’re having one at age forty. And then, I would have eaten less and better.

…been a heck of a lot more confident in high school. Because, really. How much of that crap matters now?

…waited until I was a little bit older and a little bit wiser to get married for the first time.

But I didn’t.

I said no to Scott, let’s just be friends. (even though I had a killer crush on him) I floundered after college. I stayed in the same place after college. I let my students run over me sometimes, not wanting to squash their creativity. I let my mother dictate my life until I was in my 40’s. I thought there would always be singing opportunities. I talked more about my life with my grandparents than I listened about theirs. I fed my cravings of ice cream and McDonald’s french fries when I was pregnant. I pretended I was confident in high school, but deep down I was pining to be the popular one. I married at the oh-so-wise age of 21 because, seriously, I knew everything there was to know about what was good for me.

But.

And it’s a big but.

I wouldn’t change a thing.

I have an amazing husband. Three fantastic, beautiful children. A career as a stay-at-home-mom – and who knew I would love it so much? I have a life with regrets and accomplishments and friends and scars. And I wouldn’t change a thing.

Because I like who I’ve become. And I wouldn’t be me without all my experiences.

So, if I could have ten do-overs? I wouldn’t do it.

Nope.

Because then, I wouldn’t be here.

The Grass Isn’t Greener. It’s Just Different.

(I’m sorry for the unscheduled re-run but here is a post from last year. My sister’s husband died over the weekend and it’s been a little crazy in my house, in my head. Didn’t want to leave you with nothing to read with your morning coffee so here is post originally from September 21, 2009, from my blog’s infancy. Hope to see you all tomorrow!)

A close friend was going through some struggles in her marriage. And if you believe in coincidences, a blast from her past appeared unexpectedly. They ran into each other at a sporting event. She was with her husband and 2 other couples. They chatted about old times and he encouraged them (a few of the people in the party, including my friend)  to stay in touch.  Well, she did. One thing led to another and they were about to do something they probably shouldn’t but she stopped.

She has a loving husband. Beautiful children. Comfortable home. Good job. Loving friends and family. She was so embarrassed and upset that she had been tempted. But things weren’t as perfect as they seemed in her marriage and she started listing all of the cons in her relationship with her husband. The magic is gone. He doesn’t appreciate me. His priorities always take precedence. And on. And on.

I asked her to look at the pros. But all she could think of was the excitement that this ex was providing. She was so caught up with the magic she couldn’t see why they had ended it so long ago. And I told her; The grass isn’t greener. It’s just different.

Some varieties need more attention, more water. They need to be cut more often and edged a certain way. Others are less needy. You can skip watering and let nature take care of it. It doesn’t need to be weeded or fertilized. There are so many varieties out there. You have to decide which variety is best for your lawn, where you’re living and how much time you have to devote to it. You make your decision and then work with it.

I’m so glad my friend decided not to go back to her ex. She’s making it work with her husband. But recently she told me that when I told her about “the grass not being greener” she was just listening politely to me. She didn’t really get it. It didn’t hit her until the ex said something that dragged her back to reality. It brought back all of the reasons why they had broken up and she didn’t want to deal with such a high maintenance lawn.

She liked her life the way it was. She was familiar with this variety. And while there was some weeding to do and she never could quite get which fertilizer to use when; it WAS a beautiful lawn.

(My sister and her husband had a very real, down to earth, love-all-the-warts kind of marriage. They appreciated each other in a way that I so admired. Let’s all hug our spouses a little tighter today. We never know how long we’ll have with each other.)

Al and Tipper? Old News. Apparently, RAOK Is All The Rage.

The first time I was ever featured on WordPress’s Freshly Pressed page I had written a post, two months ago, on the fly, about the Tipper and Al divorce. Just a quick little observation about my impressions of marriage, divorce and media attention. Hits to my blog sky-rocketed. And a whopping 61 comments. 61! I had never generated so much buzz.

Then, I go away for the weekend. Not wanting to let my blog sit dormant, I re-printed a post from December. Just a sweet, little post about my commitment (or lack thereof) to Random Acts of Kindness. Freshly Pressed picked me up again as a featured blog post.

The attention has been astounding.

Simply.

Astounding.

And by astounding, I mean mind-boggling.

I’m standing here speechless. No, make that flummoxed.

The hits? Off the charts doesn’t even begin to describe. And the comments? 209 at last count. And that doesn’t even include all the spam or comments I deleted. (But will make for excellent post material at a later date. Stay tuned!)

A little post about how I tried to make someone’s day with an unexpected surprise. And how I felt guilty not doing it more. Or giving more in that particular moment.

People crawled out of the woodwork, threw down their lurker status and commented in droves. Or they commented on their own blogs and linked back here. Or they cut and paste my post and used it for their blog. (Which I’m still wrestling with the ethics of that, but again, a topic for another post.)

Or they criticized my actions. (But that, too, will be for another post.)

A simple, $3.18 gesture and I’m sitting high on the shoulders of my fellow bloggers and being paraded around Blog World.

A hero.

And isn’t that a little sad? I’m glad a story about paying it forward garnered more attention than a high-profile divorce, don’t get me wrong. But the shock and awe of how a small act of kindness can make such a difference surprises me.

And makes me pause and think and wonder…what if I were more deliberate in my good deeds? What if I challenged myself  to commit at least one RAOK a day, every day. How hard could it be?

So, forget about the challenge I posed to everyone about committing a random act of kindness over the weekend. I’m upping the ante. This isn’t going to be an “every once in a while thing” for me anymore. I’m going to challenge myself to commit a minimum of one RAOK each week. I will post about my successes and inevitable failures (because, contrary to popular opinion right now, I AM human) on a separate tab section of this blog. (No need to start another blog about this issue. There are plenty out there.)

You can join me. You can read and see what I do. You can be inspired all over again. Or, you can criticize what I deem a RAOK.

I don’t care.

I do know that whatever happens I will be a more fulfilled, positive force in this universe.

And a better example to my children.

And that’s all that matters.

Don’t forget! Write your post about blogging to help me celebrate my one year in Blog World. We’ll all meet back here in 3 days (August 13) to link, learn and maybe have a few laughs!

Because Famiversaries Are An Easy !!!

I’ve made it no secret I was married before. With a beautiful daughter to show for it. I am currently in (and staying in) my second marriage and let me tell you, twice is a charm.

Planning our outdoor wedding, me and my daughter in sun dresses and sandals, the lake in the background, was a family affair. Our siblings and parents all contributed something to make the day special. It was homey. It was casual. It was a very special day.

But my daughter was crushed. She thought she, too, was going on the honeymoon. She was almost 6 yrs. old and I hadn’t considered that she wouldn’t understand that the honeymoon was only for the bride and groom. She cried the day she figured it out. And my soon-to-be-husband became her knight in shining armor that day.

“Mommy and I will go on the first honeymoon right after the wedding. And then the weekend we get back we are taking you on a second honeymoon!”

She was overjoyed. We let her pick the destination. Chattanooga.  (Remember, she was about 6)  She wanted to see Rock City. (She was obsessed with rocks) She wanted to go to the aquarium. We stayed at the Chattanooga Choo-Choo Hotel. It was a fabulous long weekend with lots of laughter and fun.

The following year she was very excited about our (meaning all three of us) upcoming anniversary. “What are we going to do to celebrate?” she asked, eyes shining. So we did something special, just the three of us. We took a long weekend to the beach.

“We’ve now set a precedent,” I said to my husband.

He smiled, “I know. We have to. It’s our famiversary, after all.”

So, in July we celebrate our Famiversary. Sometimes with something big. Sometimes it’s just a small celebration. But it always involves the whole family.

Through the years we’ve added a few more children. But it remains the day we became a family. Our celebrations are still special. And this weekend we spent the day in Atlanta. First the Atlanta Botanical Gardens, then out for sushi.

A fabulous day. A fabulous family. A fabulous past 12 years.

Thank you, my knight in shining armor.

 A wizard, wolf and wabbit, playing around in the children’s garden.

 My daughter’s reflection in the reflecting pool.

 

Little brother’s feet were too tired so Big Sis to the rescue. (She was our photographer for the day. Why she always sends me her pics in black and white, I don’t know. She doesn’t like how she looks in color, I guess.)

 

My little leap day boy, hanging out with Mr. Frog.

Two little rabbits caught in Mr. McGregor’s Garden!

And he’s making me laugh. Again. And again. And yet, again. Must be why I’m still with him.

For more !!! (Intentional Happiness) visit Momalom or Bad Mommy Moments.

Al And Tipper. John and Jane. We’re All Fighting Some Kind Of Battle.

 I’ve made it no secret that I’ve been married before. I hesitate to call my first marriage a mistake because an amazing daughter came of it. And if it hadn’t have been for my first marriage, I wouldn’t be the seasoned wife that I am today. (You’re welcome, Honey!)

Since I am in a second marriage, I feel I make an extra effort to make it work. I am more than committed to my husband. I am also keenly aware that the grass isn’t greener, just different.

So it disheartens, discourages, just plain disappoints when I hear of long marriages dissolving.

Al and Tipper Gore, after 40 years of marriage, are separating.

I don’t know Al and Tipper. Never been invited to their home. Never attended the same social gathering. All I know about them is what I’ve seen, heard or read in the media. They’ve passed the two typical milestones when couples divorce: seven-year-itch and when the youngest child goes off to college.

Hearing of their separation makes me sad. According to their email to friends and family they “grew apart.” After 40 years.

I suppose I’m a romantic. I’d like to think that after 40 years of marriage a married couple has weathered the worst. Found ways to make the-once-endearing-but-now-annoying-habits tolerable. Discovered new joys about each partner.

When I divorced, I lost friends. Phone calls and invitations slowed. As if divorce were contagious. The shift in friendships bothered me. Still bothers me. Which is why I’m hyper-sensitive when someone is going through similar struggles.

“Everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle.”

Al and Tipper. John and Jane. The teacher and the artist. The lawyer and stay at home mom.

Struggling. Battling. Some winning, some losing.

All of you are in my heart today.

Holding you close.

Hoping for peace and strength.

(On a lighter note: Answers from yesterday’s music challenge: 1. “Spare him his life from this monstrosity” – Bohemian Rhapsody, Queen 2. “Shake it like a Polaroid Picture” – Hey Ya, Outkast 3. “Smoke on the water, fire in the sky” Smoke On The Water, Deep Purple 4. “A loaded God complex” – Sugar, We’re Going Down, Fall Out Boy 5. “It’s too late to apologize” – Apologize, OneRepublic 6. “See that girl, watch that scene, dig in the dancing queen” – Dancing Queen, ABBA 7. “Hold me closer, tiny dancer” – Tiny Dancer, Elton John. 8. “Hit me with your best shot” – Hit Me With Your Best Shot – Pat Benatar 9. “Got my mind set on you” – Got My Mind Set On You, George Harrison 10. “It doesn’t make a difference if we make it or not” – Livin’ On A Prayer, Bon Jovi. — Just an observation. For a girl who says she doesn’t like Bon Jovi, her blog sure mentions them a lot. Just sayin’.)

Teetering On A Tightrope

Today’s Tune for Tuesday Selection = Kandi by One Eskimo

“You’ve been my queen for longer than you know
My love for you has been
Everything step i take
Every day i live
Everything i see” – Growing up as I did, it was difficult to feel worthy. When a boyfriend, or even a husband, claimed love for me I had a hard time believing him. Insecurity doesn’t even begin to describe.

“But i heard from Jo about this guy And i want to know” – As a result, I teetered on a dangerous tightrope, many times. If another boy gave me attention, I listened. I encouraged. I often came close to crossing the line.

“What did he say?
He called me baby, baby all night long
What did he do?
He called me baby, baby all night long” – But I didn’t. Not physically. But emotionally. Intellectually. Instead of confronting issues within my current relationship, I savored the attention of someone else. Not some of my prouder moments, to be sure.

“Why? Why? Why, did you need him?
Where was i?” – So I’d feel unworthy all over again. A vicious cycle. One that I’ve broken, thank goodness. But the regrets of my younger years haunt me sometimes. I’m much stronger now. Much more secure. But still, regret lies in the shadows.

“And it hurts beyond hurt
It was a love that blinds
And a love that stings” – I’m so thankful that I am who I am. I’m thankful for regret. For mis-steps. That I’ve been hurt. That I’ve hurt.

Without the sting I wouldn’t be able to appreciate what I have now.

(Update: And the winner is…..lucky number 4! (Chosen by #2son because “that’s how many Star Wars army guys I have in my hand!”) Mary Lee of Marrilymarylee’s Weblog is the lucky winner of Aidan Donnelley Rowley’s copy of “Life After Yes!” Congratulations, Mary Lee and thanks to all who played!)

Still Walking On Sunshine

Writing about my divorce yesterday stirred up memories.

And then my blog friend Leslie at Five To Nine  wrote about her courageous announcement to her parents when she became engaged at a young age, like me.

I noticed the calendar.

Gasp!

25 years ago today.

Yes, I was a child bride. Well, not a child. 21. But too young to know what I was choosing. Too young for me.

He was 10 years older than me. He had a successful career. He knew what he wanted. Who he was. I was still stifled by my parents. I wanted out. Out from their control. Away from my childhood.

And I was in love. I was following my heart. On that May 11th, 25 years ago, just before going out the door to arrive at the church, Katrina and the Waves came on MTV singing “Walking On Sunshine.”

“Wait,” I said to my sister, “I love this song!”

“We’re going to be late,” my sister said.

“I don’t care. I want this song in my heart today.”

So I sat there, with my hair and make-up expertly done, veil already attached. Wearing blue jeans, t-shirt and flip-flops. Soaking up the song. Singing along. Smiling like a fool.

I was so happy that day. So excited to start my new life.

As soon as it was over we raced to the church to get properly dressed, humming that song, dancing with my sister in the courtyard while we sang.

Every time after, whenever I’d hear that song I’d remember that beautiful day. My wedding day was like a fairytale. I have no bad memories. Nothing went wrong. Not that I can remember, anyway.

And then. Eleven years later. We divorced.

Not that popular of a song anymore, I rarely heard it. But when I did, I would fall into a sad little funk. What was I thinking? How could I have been so blind? I was so stupid.

Slowly, gradually, I’d hear the catchy refrain and I’d catch myself humming along. And I realized, it no longer reminded me of something I’d lost. It reminded me of what I was living now.

“Walking on sunshine. I feel alive. And it’s time to feel good!”

Always the optimist, always glass half full, “Walking On Sunshine” still has a power over me. If it comes on the radio I have to turn it up. If I’m home, I have to dance around the room with a child in hand. I grin like a fool every time I hear it.

Yes, 25 years ago today I took a chance on something that failed.

No. Not failed.

Ended.

And today I’m experiencing a new chapter – dancing, laughing, singing, crying. I have no idea where this chapter is taking me.

But I’m having a blast while I’m in it!

Love You Madly, That’s All I Want To Do

I have been married 22 years of my adult life. Hold on. Hold the applause. Quiet the cheers. That’s 22 years between two marriages.

Yep. That’s me.

I’m a statistic.

I married way, way, way too young, just a few months shy of my 21st birthday. I thought I was ALL grown up. I thought I knew what I wanted in life. And to weaken the odds of marriage survival, the man I married was 10 years older than me. Set in his ways. He knew what he wanted. He was all grown up.

“I don’t want to wonder
If this is a blunder
I don’t want to worry whether
We’re gonna stay together
‘Till we die” – I never worried that we might divorce someday. We both had similar upbringings. We never fought. We had the same goals in life – or so I thought. And I was a very practical, down-to-earth, hippie chick. I didn’t need an engagement ring. We drank health shakes and camped under the stars. We eschewed material things. We were academics. We were athletes. But there was no passion in our marriage. We lived very separate lives day-to-day. I look back now and I wonder what in the world he saw in me? Especially seeing who he married right after me. She is rail thin, stiletto heels, always lots of make-up and jewelry. I can’t imagine she’s been camping a day in her life. What was he thinking? (with her or with me?)

“I don’t want to jump in
Unless this music’s thumping
All the dishes rattle in the cupboards
When the elephants arrive” – I was always a very pragmatic soul. I didn’t believe in soul mates and happily-ever-afters. But I’ve changed. I believe in fairy tales. I believe in magic. My new favorite movie is Enchanted. I want the Disney kiss, wrapped up in a guaranteed happy ending.

“I don’t want to fake it
I just want to make it
The ornaments look pretty
But they’re pulling down the branches
Of the Tree” – But marriage is hard. Hard, hard work. I remember our first real fight as a married couple (with my now husband) and I called my sister in tears. I thought we were over. I said, “We’ve hit a snag. A huge snag!” and she asked me to explain. I did and she laughed at me. She said, “Jane, that’s not a snag. That’s a marriage.” Because there was basically no conflict in my first marriage (and as a consequence, no passion or real love either) I had no idea how to work through this. I wanted the painted, pretty picture of marriage – walking into the sunset of life holding hands. Work at a marriage? What work?

“I don’t want to think about it
I don’t want to talk about it” – But of course, we do. It’s how we’ve lasted these past 11 years. I’m still not the communicator my husband wants me to be in our marriage – I’m more passive. Not passive/aggressive. More passive-what’s-the-point? But I’m getting better.

“I don’t want to hold back
I don’t want to slip down
I don’t want to think back to the one thing that I know I
Should have done” – I’m not a woulda-coulda-shoulda kind of person. I don’t hold onto to things. In fact, I’m so good at letting go I will infuriate my husband sometimes. I have argument amnesia. I forget what we’re arguing about if we move onto something else. He’ll still be annoyed with something and I’ll be oblivious. If you tell me nothing is wrong, I believe you. “Say what you mean, mean what you say” It’s my credo. And I like it that way.

“I don’t want to doubt you
Know everything about you
I don’t want to sit across the table from you
Wishing I could run” – I’m at a stage in my life when I don’t want drama. I want to push the easy button when it comes to marriage. I know it isn’t supposed to be that way every day. But most days sure would be nice. I’ve learned that marriage is a system of ebb and flow. You ride out the ebb and enjoy the joy of the flow. I love riding the tides and I relish those days. Those are the days when loving you madly is so easy, so fun. It’s during the ebb that it’s tough. But with you – I’m hanging on. You make it so worth it.

“I want to love you madly
I want to love you now
I want to love you madly, way
I want to love you, love you
Love you madly”