Marriage

A Mother’s View

 

A friend of mine sent me a little blurb on Messenger this week. He was in Mykonos and was fondly remembering the fantastic times we had there. Lots of great food, great wine and lovely views. Mykonos is a truly beautiful island. It is everything you imagine Greece should be….and then some. I spent a lot of time there. All over the Mediterranean, really. I feel I know it so well. The many cafes I have frequented. The fun company I kept. The delightful repose of a lazy afternoon with the sun on my face and wine on my tongue. Is it possible it could seem like yesterday and yet be so far away?

My life is not filled with days in Mykonos anymore. Or touring ancient ruins or magnificent art galleries. My frequent flier miles are actually in jeopardy of becoming inactive.  As I sat today in the Starbuck’s Cafe inside my local Target, I thought of my former life. My son was sitting across from me eating the peanut butter and jelly sandwich I brought with us. I was enjoying my usual dark roast with a splash of vanilla in it. There were big windows looking out to the vast parking lot filled with suburban vehicles and lots of Moms with children in tow. I quietly giggled to myself. So THIS is my view now….THIS is my frequent cafe? Well, yes…..I suppose it is.

Another friend of mine who was also in the business is now a Mom of four beautiful children. She posted something on Facebook about how so many of her friends were going to exciting Broadway openings and how her life seemed so boring in comparison. Now I can’t imagine life with four children is boring, by any stretch of the imagination. It is not quite as glamorous as life on the stage, I’ll give her that.  But I have a hunch she wasn’t truly complaining. She is a rockstar Mom and lives quite the charmed life. She is gaga for her kids and rightfully so. She enjoys them. It is evident. I think she was doing that thing that moms often do. We whine. We complain. But it’s mostly crocodile tears.  We don’t REALLY want Calgon to take us away.  Not for any real length of time.  We have hit the jackpot and if we are smart, we learn to appreciate that fact quite quickly.

As I sat on my uncomfortable aluminum chair in my very basic Starbucks/Target cafe,  I began to wonder… Did I miss my old life? Did I long for more glamorous times? More carefree times? I sipped my basic coffee and let the questions seep in.  The answer is no.  Unequivocally, no.  Then I thought…If I had to give up the life I have now and go back to the life I had before….Would I miss this?   Would I long for the joy my family brings me?  Would I miss the meaningful simplicity of an ordinary day? There is no question.  Of course I would! My heart hurts just thinking about it.

I realize not everyone has been quite as lucky, as perhaps I have been.  I got to to see and experience the world and I enjoyed a very glamorous career.  Had I just kept going, I am sure I would have told you how happy and fulfilled I was.  Because I was.  I didn’t miss what I didn’t know.  But now, after sharing my life with my love and having our child, I feel like life has a new meaning and purpose.  That’s the jackpot I mentioned before.  And trust me, I don’t take any of it for granted.  To find this kind of happiness at this point in my life is the freaking Holy Grail! It’s Mount Everest!

I will never forget my old life.  The breathtaking views from atop Santorini and along the Grand Canal in Venice are ingrained in my mind.  The glamourous costumes I donned were a privilege to wear.  The thrill of performing for thousands of people is in my veins.  My experiences are forever a part of me.  I am grateful for all of it.  I fondly reminisce, but I don’t miss it.  What I would miss is the sweet smell of my little boy’s hair…The sound of his laugh as I tickle him…and the soft kiss from the man who sees me as his one and only.  I’ll be sure to pour a glass of wine, sit out on our deck, watch the sunset and drink to that! Yassas my friends!

Until next time, keep fighting the good fight, and remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is screwing it up.  Thanks for reading.  Always. Xo

 

 

Being Alive

Ok.  I’ve crunched through my bowl of low salt popcorn.  I drank my second 12 oz glass of water for the day.  I’ve watched a bit of spirit crushing C-span.  I’ve gone through the news and political blurbs that, lately,  hurt my brain.  And yet, here is the ironic truth…..I remain happy.  I am happy because I am grateful to be here.  Not just to exist, but to be alive.  Truly alive.

The other day I was listening to the Broadway channel on Sirius XM, as any good musical theatre geek does.  Raul Esparza’s rendition of “Being Alive” from Stephen Sondheim ‘s musical Company came on.  As I drove,  the words he sang seemed to penetrate me in a way they never had before.

Somebody hold me too close.
Somebody hurt me too deep.
Somebody sit in my chair,
And ruin my sleep,
And make me aware,
Of being alive.
Being alive.

Somebody need me too much.
Somebody know me too well.
Somebody pull me up short,
And put me through hell,
And give me support,
For being alive.
Make me alive.
Make me alive.

Somebody crowd me with love.
Somebody force me to care.
Somebody let me come through,
I’ll always be there,
As frightened as you,
To help us survive,
Being alive.
Being alive.
Being alive!

Its a song about the fundamental need we have to be needed and loved by another being.  I think when we accept that we, indeed,  have just that, life gets a whole lot brighter, even in the midst of hardships, depression and crumbling governments.  I talk a lot about gratitude and perspective. If ever there was a time for people to take control of their perspective, it is now.  My top priorities are my son and husband.  My husband is my person, like in the song.  He is my someone and my O is the natural extension of that love and connection.  They are my everything. I choose to make them my main focus. Of course there is room for other things in my orb, but I am making sure to balance my intake of the negative world and alternative facts, with that which inspires, empowers, and enriches me.  I’m reading this and I am sounding a lot like some tripping ethereal hippie.  I assure you, my walls aren’t melting and my feet are planted on the ground.

You may think I’m coo coo for Cocoa Puffs, but I truly feel I owe my wonderful life to my husband.  Had he not risked revealing his true self to me all those years ago…  Had he not been so fearless in his love for me when I was still the coward…I would not be this unabashedly happy today.   And, he made one hell of a baby with me!  I tell you, I owe everything that matters to him.  Obviously, I could go further and thank my lucky stars, or the Universe or, duh, God.  Absolutely.  And that is the whole point.  What is going on right now in our world is abominable, I’m my opinion.  It is a sad and deplorable time in our country.   But it is only a tiny piece of time in the puzzle of our existence.   It cannot take over my mind.  I am in this fight for the long haul.  What kind of warrior would I be if I just crawled under my covers binge watching Netflix in comatose denial?  I will not give up any part of my wonderful life to the threatening darkness.  I can be involved, informed, even irate and still be happy.   I will remain happy because I am choosing to be.  Because my husband and son deserve me to be.  And my vigilance and resolve to make this world a better place will only strengthen.   For me, that is what it means to be alive today.  Thank you, my love, for making me ALIVE.

Until next time, keep fighting the good fight and remember behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is screwing it up! Thanks for reading! Peace! Xo

The Safe Decision

It’s early. The house is quiet, except for the sounds of the pipes attempting to heat this big house on such a frigid day. The snow is falling so peacefully. So beautifully. My hair is wet from my post workout shower but my coffee is warm and comforting. This is my second favorite time of day. Any time I get to rock my O, either before or after he sleeps, takes the cake. But this time is also sacred to me. It is unshared. It is the time of day when I decide what kind of day I will have. When I let myself just “be.” When important things are decided in my mind.

When the eight o’ clock hour strikes, the peacefulness ends. It is filled with “to dos” and tears. Giggles, whines, Sesame Street and subtle stresses. Life with a toddler. I know, I know, if you have a toddler you are thinking to yourself, “Eight O’Clock?!” Ok, so I am lucky in that regard. Absolutely. I know this. I am getting off track. Digression is becoming quite a sport for me, lately.

In my moments of quiet and soul searching, I have come to a tough conclusion. After much back and forth with myself I am choosing to side with my intellect. I guess I should come out and tell you. I am officially deciding to not get pregnant again. I know I have talked about it seeming to not be in the cards for us, but now I am taking the possibility off the table. I am going back on the pill. It makes me a little sad. I’m not gonna lie. But the possibility of being pregnant now at 46, and delivering at 47, terrifies me. We have weighed the pros and cons. After some odd health issues, that I can now chalk up to peri-menopause, we are choosing to be grateful for the wonderful gift we have already been given. The hardest part is knowing that on some level (at least in my eyes) I am letting my husband down. He protests that I am not, but I can’t help but feel that if he married someone younger, he would have more children. He will be upset with me for writing this. It is something I need to come to terms with.

It is what it is. One of my favorite mantras. But, it is. Considering I tweaked my back just from standing at the sink doing dishes while talking on the phone, it seems like our decision is for the best. I know I am not in the shape now that I was when I got pregnant for O. A pregnancy, even if successful, would be much harder on my body this time around. And of course, my psychic friend, Frieda’s premonition enters my mind. She said I would have one child and he would be healthy. If I wanted more I should adopt. She’s been on point with everything. EVERYTHING. How could she not enter my mind?

With the stress factors in my life right now, as well, I know intellectually that it is the right decision. The smart decision. The safe decision.

I sat here stumped as how to end this pondering, and then my own words, reiterated by my loving husband as a matter of fact, hit my ears. “Everything works out the way it should.” Oh, yes, indeed it does. Marrying the right person certainly helps, too. I have a feeling we are going to be just fine.

Until next time, keep fighting the good fight, and remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is screwing it up. Thanks for reading, friend. Xo

P.S. I Can’t Do It All

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As if I needed to declare this.  As if I assumed you thought otherwise….Nope.  It is most official.  I CANNOT do it all.  There are some things better left to others….anyone else, to be frank.  I have experienced an epic fail today in my quest for home improvement/beautification.  It is an important lesson I have learned.  Me, drills and drywall don’t mix.  I should stay far far away from anything having to do with said drywall.  In my effort to surprise my husband by hanging a hand towel rack in our newly renovated master bath, I have created a bigger headache for him than having to install it in the first place.  I know he hates hanging things, especially towel racks, etc.  I thought, “how hard could it be?”  Well, apparently for me, it’s pretty freakin hard.  There is now a hole the size of a small coin and a drywall anchor that has pushed through the wall with the screw still attached….what a mess.  I have given up trying to rectify the situation, as every time I attempt, the problem (and hole) gets bigger.  Oye.

If there is one thing that really irks me, it’s when I can’t do something.  I’m now feeling like a total failure.  If I had potato chips I’d be chomping on the big bag trying to crunch out my frustrations.  Instead, I downed 2 Oreos.  So not the same.  As I begin to come to my senses and get over myself, I wipe the crumbs from my face and realize there is another lesson to be learned here beyond staying away from drills and drywall.

Perhaps we are not meant to be able to do everything.  If you think about it, isn’t that how the best partnerships are born? People who complement each other in their talents and skills.  Well, that’s my husband.  He’s the ying to my yang…or the yang to my ying…either way, you get what I’m saying.  We are so opposite in so many ways….but yet we are aligned perfectly when it comes to important things like love and family.

Maybe it’s ok that I don’t possess the strength and skills to use a power drill effectively.  Because he’s pretty great at it.  I think it’s good that I have patience for the tedious projects in the house (like painting the woodwork) because he doesn’t.  I have no doubt there is some woman out there who is able to put a drywall anchor and screw in just fine.  Power to her! It’s just not me.  So perhaps I’m blowing smoke up my own tush, trying to make myself feel better for my failure.   Maybe I’m the only woman on earth who can’t seem to handle this seemingly easy task.  Whatever the case may be, I like being the ying to his yang.  I like compromising.  I like meeting him half way.  I like knowing there are things he can do better than me.  And in turn, there are things I do better than him.  I like being part of a partnership.  I like keeping each other in line.  I like being accountable to someone else.  Who’d have thunk?

So there you have it.  My epic fail has evolved into a revelation of gratitude.  My craving for chips has passed.  Until next time, keep fighting the good fight and remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is screwing it up.  Xo