You're still The One
I haven't written about Digby in a while and he deserves to be written about a lot. He deserves also some other things, like not being fed processed dog bites, but young tender spring chickens, or, he deserves to have a career and not be held like a dumb couch dog (although indeed the couch is and always will be his). He also doesn't deserve to be "blessed" with yet another incoherent, oddly sweet smelling and unreliable human sibling ("Guys? Another one? You have GOT to be kidding me!? Who am I? Some silly pet?"). But Digby, we still love you and then there is always eternal salvation, where all suffering ends and bacon grows on trees!
Shock and awe
I love the library crazies, don't get me wrong. They provide endless entertainment and also funny blog fodder. I can even deal with the after-the-fact-psychics and also the endless comments on my belly size, but... sir, if you put your hand one more time on my belly WITHOUT ASKING and proceed to give me and the junior a blessing by praying over us, I will summon all the evil hormones in my body and make them reduce your 250-lbs-frame into a puddle of tears, do you hear me??? It has nothing to do with religion, it is just plain rude and invasive and SO crossing the line. You are just lucky I was frozen in a state of shock.
Blablabla drama blabla...
It is time to bore you with something serious again, because spewing bitterness and judgement towards people I disagree with is just too much fun. Also, it would be nice to hear what you think, even though that might make you part of the group mentioned above. That's not a problem for me though. Ha ha!
This is today's topic: when you are an adult, is it still necessary and normal to "break up" with friends, high-school style? You know, heated verbal exchange deteriorates into pseudo-hidden insults, those turning into real insults, turning into demonstrative "cutting off": "I am done with you", "Never contact me again.", "If I receive one more letter like this, I will etc. etc." I am somewhat ashamed I had exchanges like this in my life, although more than that I'm just sad it happened the way it did. I'd like to believe it wasn't my "fault" or that at least my participation was minimal as far as the childish behavior goes, but of course, I can't say that for sure. I don't like to be insulted. I don't welcome it with particular gratitude and oftentimes it will inspire me to insult back. Yeah.
I haven't been "cut off" a whole lot in my life, I think the total count remains somewhere around 3 times or under and I myself remember doing it to someone else only once in my life, but even then it was more self defense than a spiteful decision. Still, I think about those broken relationships (none of them romantic) again and again, wondering if there was something that could've been done to prevent the eventual catastrophe. I've retraced my steps over and over and the only - very obvious - conclusion I repeatedly come to is, that I could have NOT said some things I did say and most likely I'd still be "friends" with those people today, only the friendship would be conditioned by the things that I still think and see and object to, just that I'd never bring them up. So the next question is always: Would I want that? Would I trade the break-up for a "lesser" friendship? I don't know. Most of the time I think I wouldn't, but then there's always the self-doubt, of course.
There are two things (well more, but I don't want to scare you off) I believe, when it comes to friendships or relationships in general. One is, that you have to be able to be honest and speak your mind, even if you know the other side might not "like" to hear it - obviously this goes the other way too, you have to be ready to hear things you don't like without immediately giving up and running away screaming. The other is, that you should be able to end a friendship on civil terms, or at least, SEEK to end the friendship on civil terms. So to answer my own question, I think high-school drama should stay in high-school. Ideally. I realize my opinions are based on the fact that I generally believe in honesty, I believe in love (as in caritas) and I believe that friendships that require major compromise on both are not friendships and ultimately not worth my time.
In a certain sense I was raised to avoid conflict at all cost, mostly my own cost - meaning I should rather cut back on my own expectations in a relationship than confront the person, because well, one, my expectations have a very high chance of being selfish and two, the person will get their feelings hurt and hurting people is bad, so again, I was probably being selfish. I really fell on my nose with that one when I was just entering adult life and realized through the years, that you do have to negotiate a relationship by maintaining your standards, because otherwise you will be walked all over like a doormat and if that's not enough of bad consequence, you will also be perpetually filled with resentment and bitterness that you won't be able to hide nor contain and all your stoic endurance of injustice will not get you the saint status but poison your ability for joy and self-respect.
So. Given these conclusions I have been honest with my friends when I felt some things they did or said or believed were seriously compromising the livelyhood of our relationship. To skip further euphemisms... for example if I feel I am being used more than I am being appreciated I will tell you. If I feel the "topic" of our friendship has changed rather suddenly (maybe we used to tell each other personal things very openly and all of a sudden it's just about the weather), I will say so. If I feel you are very obviously fooling yourself in a situation in your life, I will tell you - I will try to do everything I can to be gentle and to let you know that I am aware I most likely don't have the whole picture, but I WILL tell you. I will, because in those cases, NOT telling feels like lying and also, because I would expect the same from you. I don't need friends, who are always nice to me and never show me their true thoughts out of fear they would hurt my feelings. I have benefitted greatly from friends, family and even acquaintances, who have been honest with me, even though maybe at the time I was very hurt or even mad. Now I'm not saying you have to agree with everything I'm saying, not at all. It just has to be possible to talk about it, maybe work it out and reconcile or worst case, say goodbye in a (more or less) mature manner.
Whatever I had said in the different cases, was met with complete disbelief (that I would dare saying something), total denial and then rage. Maybe I'm just full of myself, but really, it is not very convincing in showing me that indeed I am way off. If you can't give me one or two simple and sensible reasons why I am wrong, but instead you gasp and tell me I am ugly and my feet stink, then, uh, maybe I might have a point somewhere. And this is where it shows whether we really can be friends, I suppose. It is perfectly reasonable, when confronted, one would not want to talk about something they are going through or something that's painful or they're ashamed of, but I feel you gotta be able to say that. If the friendship is worth something, you have to be able to just say: "This is hurtful." or "I don't have the strenght to discuss it" or something of that sort without blaming. Otherwise I can't shake the feeling that at the end of the day, the former friends were actually thankful I gave them the opportunity to break it all off and make me look like the asshole.
Ok, so I am upset about being cut off. I am just trying to figure out if it has to be that way or if there is something I have to change or could have done. I don't like knowing there are people out there I cannot talk to again, even if I don't necessarily want to, but I don't like that I can't. It feels silly. And childish. And unnecessary.
Feeling important
I've been tagged! First time ever!
4 Jobs I have had in my life:
1. English teacher in Madrid, Spain.
2. Temp worker (Hilfsarbeiter) at a detergent plant in Vienna, putting caps on detergent bottles.
3. Apple orchard tour guide
4. Export assistant at a nozzle manufacturing plant. The only outwardly "important" one. Blech.
4 Movies I would watch over and over:
1. You've got mail
2. Meet the Parents
3. Cinderella (because I have to )
4. Best in Show
4 Places I have lived:
1. Zagreb, Croatia
2. Gumpoldskirchen, Austria
3. Madrid, Spain
4. Valparaiso, Indiana
4 TV shows I love to watch:
1. Will & Grace
2. Desperate Housewives
3. Medium
4. What not to wear
I thought this was going to be hard, but no, real easy. I guess I like to watch tv...
4 Websites I visit daily:
1. Blogs on my sidebar
2. Dooce
3. I don't know, just those I guess.
4.
4 of my favorite foods:
Oh man... 4??? Just 4???
1. Bread with butter
2. Chicken salad (good kind)
3. Croissants
4. Apple pie, brownies, cheesecake, strawberries with whipped cream... you know THAT food.
4 Places I would rather be right now:
1. The beach, in the shade.
2. In a library (NOT working)
3. On my sister's couch.
4. My imaginary closed porch on my imaginary beautiful house.
4 People I am tagging:
Uhm, I don't know, Dani?
Posted at 01:40 PM on January 23, 2006Exactly like that Posted at 09:26 PM on January 18, 2006 | Comments (1)
My favorite position these days
Oh the heartburn, the back pain, the gasping for air... pregnancy is a lot of fun. I wish I could just lie around all day. I am tired all the time and I have no energy to keep up with a definitely crazy 2 1/2 -year-old. What is it with toddlers? They are like grumpy old people only with 3 times as much energy!
On an unrelated note... I have occasionally gotten feedback about this blog saying that I am very negative about my life and motherhood. I think that's a valid argument and I've thought about explaining this several times but I always end up concluding that... it wouldn't make sense. Explaining myself, that is. This blog is mine and it is what it is. You get it or you don't. I am not trying to give a balanced and accurate depiction of my life. I write for enjoyment and about what moves me. If I'm misunderstood I'll just have to deal with it.
Posted at 07:27 PM on January 18, 2006 | Comments (4)"Oh, now you'll have one of each!"
This post has been in the making for several months, but a conversation with my awesome (childless!) midwife and a long read about young fathers has given me the final push to attempt some kind of personal statement on the quantity of children one (=me) should/would have. The decision to have children as well as how many of them is exclusively personal so nothing I say is meant to be a general rule, although I do reserve the right to have an opinion, which qualifies things one way or the other, whether you agree or not.
We are expecting a second child now and inevitably the question "why?" comes up... several times a day, especially when my back hurts or the thought of spending another minute with a toddler seems scarier than watching "The English Patient" back to back. I am still a little puzzled by my own confident answer, because frankly, I don't like SO MANY things that have to do with raising children. Not that I don't find them cute or amazing or interesting, but ... come on! Child-related tasks are so repetitive, no amount of cuteness in the world can really hold your wonder that long.
It took me a while to understand why I felt a certain disconnect to some mothers in my MOMS Club until I realized the main difference between us. They had been wanting to be mothers and everything that that entails for years before they had children and the actual child just made their world finally right, whereas me, I wanted the children and motherhood kinda came along and so did all the other things, like bassinets and blankies and socks etc. I can't say I didn't find it cute, but the amount of it all was overwhelming and really I never quite got into it... to the fullest. So having another child for me certainly has little to do with continuing to revel in baby shoes and poopy diapers. I feel misunderstood a lot when people ask me about having children, just because what I really think is never quite asked and I suppose can't really be discussed in small talk.
At the end of the day I still feel like I did before I had Veronika... I wanted children for the people that they are/will be. It was a natural consequence of what marriage meant to me, what loving my husband meant. I always pictured my family to be a group of people, who belong together, who are there because of each other. I realized when these "people" started showing up that there is much more involved for me than the philosophical notion of loving reproduction and while the philosophy of it I always see clearly, the practical part is a mess. I know what has to be done on a daily basis, but the lofty feelings elude me... strange, no? Motherhood is a hard job, not that I need to repeat that, but there is still some sort of unwritten rule that when you mention it, somehow you also have to follow it up with "I love my kids," otherwise... who are you, a monster? The longer I have kids though, the more I really don't understand how those two things are supposed to be at odds. Why does the love for my child have to be displayed in equal devotion to pushing a stroller, buying diapers and lugging around 27lbs up and down the stairs all day? Those are two separate things and blessed are the women who love both the same because their life is so much easier than mine!
Apart from those, who love the baby gear and baby smell there seems to be also another group of people, who maybe never particularly felt called to parenthood, but decided to go ahead, among other reasons, in order to "have the experience." You know what I mean. Those people will have one or two children usually and while their parental love doesn't differ much from anyone else's, the whole childbearing thing is only ok in their eyes if they don't succumb to the boring "having-kids-is-awesome/I-have-totally-given-up-on-me"-type of parenthood. Instead they will go through the same motions, but with a more analytical and intellectual approach. Their child is somewhat of a project and they have a new experience of themselves in the process, which seems to be in the foreground. For that you really don't need a lot more than two children (well, one is enough, really), because with #1 you've been there and done that and having more is just more of the same and why would you want to do that to yourself? There is so much more left to experience in the world (like having diarrhea in India!*). More children? It smells of breeding. They often feel another child would also distract from the incredibly new and exciting relationship they have with the first child and again, why would you want to disrupt that and... devalue it by repeating? I guess I'm sounding cynical and harsh, and yes, it is somewhat of an exaggeration that I'm presenting, but how else would you get my point, huh? Huh?
What I'm trying to say is that when I ask myself, why have more children from the perspective of an outsider, I get a little reluctant, because (I am so special and so are my thoughts! Swoon.) I can hear the preconceived ideas buried in the questions and I know I can't really subscribe to any of them fully... which obviously brings me back to that "reasons to have (several) children are personal", but also reminds me that I'm having a hard time identifying with my surroundings. What adds to the situation is certainly my belief that having another child is not entirely in my hands... ever, which is a very weird thing to say in the age of (seemingly) absolute human control.
The secular world seems to think you have lots of children, because you are either crazy/ignorant or just plain loooove kids (= here meaning every single stereotype describing "child," not kid as in "developing adult") and the religious world sort of implies that you have lots of children for the "glory of God" (I don't really know what that means) or because your selflessness knows no limits or something like that. Both leave me cold. The truth is a mystery lying somewhere in the conscious or unconscious collaboration between people and God and has a lot of practical reasons to it as well as completely divine interventions. I suppose all I'm asking is to be able to feel about it one way or the other without being classified.
Just because I'm (supposedly) having a boy now...
... doesn't mean I must be ecstatic to have "one of each" (Each what? Each species? Each human collectibles? Cereal box give-aways?) without having to reproduce 13 more times!
... doesn't mean I must be "done" now, because my family is "perfect."
... doesn't mean "your husband must be overjoyed" (Yeah, he was really bummed about that girl, you should've seen the tears of despair....)!
Just because I'm having a second child...
... doesn't mean I must have enjoyed every single moment of pregnancy and motherhood so far.
... doesn't mean I will have more and more children indefinitely.
... doesn't mean I don't know how to prevent "that".
Just because I'm occasionally having a hard time being a full-time mother...
... doesn't mean I don't like being one in general.
... doesn't mean I regret anything.
... doesn't mean I won't have more than two children.
* My apologies to India... I only mentioned it because these days India seems the place everyone goes to in order to "find themselves."
Posted at 12:49 PM on January 15, 2006 | Comments (3)Tessa, you should totally open a store like that yourself...
An friend just created this online store of handmade baby shoes and I think they are cuuuute!!! Go, buy some for your babies!
Posted at 10:03 AM on January 09, 2006 | Comments (1)Bla bla bla bla bla ... (This post, courtesy of my husband's everloving support and encouragement)
The new year is fresh and so is the gaping hole in the post-holiday bank account. We did not bust our Christmas budget, but were just lucky to add several hefty auto maintenance bills to the mix. There's nothing like digging yourself out of bills for the first few months of a new year. The big bright hope is the upcoming tax refund, which in my imagination grows to incredibly generous sums as the weeks go by. At the same time I am making equally unrealistic plans of curbing our expenses. Melted cheese plays a big part in it.
Lincoln asked me, - if we indeed received a large sum of money and could pay all our bills and then some -, what I would spend the remaining fun money on. It can't be something practical or sensible, rather something that I give myself for the pleasure of it only. Maybe something luxurious, so I "feel" the added wealth. I was surprised to realize it was a hard question. I have become terribly practical (Oh no, I am the dreaded hausfrau stereotype after all!). All the fun things I could think of didn't give me the tingly feeling... instead I thought how much more I could put in savings towards a computer, a couch, or even better, potential future car repairs! Blah. That's who I am today. I dream of security and safety, the things that lift you off your feet and make the angels sing...
Alright, so I gave myself some time to come up with something because I refuse to be dead inside. If I had some money to spend on myself strictly for the useless fun of it, I think I would get an expensive haircut first. Nothing makes you feel cute and happy like the perfect haircut. Then, I would buy a dress, whichever one I liked here or here or wherever. Something girly and pretty with a rustling skirt. And THEN! I'd go a step further. I would go for the "outfit". You know, click on the little boxes that suggest "You might also like..." or have the sales assistant bring you things that "go with it". I'd buy the cardigan or the purse or the shoes or the earrings! The whole thing. I never do that. It would be my small revolution of frivolity and indulgence. I always buy things on sale or parts of outfits to fit with something I already have... but this time I would go and buy it all. I could wear it right out of the store with my prefect hair... Ah!
Naturally all of this would occur long after post partum chunkiness or lactational bust expansion - which is an actual time in my future life or simply, never. I also don't see where I would wear that dress, wait, not dress, like I said: entire OUTFIT. Which occasion would that be and how many of my kids would have to be not present (clue: all)? Now, don't start. Screaming children, mac and cheese and Maisy books don't go with perfect-hair-dreaminess and cream colored cardigans. You know it. Now shut up.
So I guess, good thing that I am practical, the tax refund won't be nearly as huge and I don't have a social life. No? Discuss. While I go and weep silently into my pillow!
Posted at 08:29 PM on January 02, 2006 | Comments (1)