Nothing Is Sacred

Becky's Take on Life, Love, Motherhood and Other Random Stuff

Resolution vs. Realization December 28, 2009

Should I make a resolution to blog more often? to lose weight? to make some other resolution I won’t keep? No, I’m not going to do that. In my experience, resolving to do something just makes it that much less likely to happen.

Instead I’m going to make realizations.

I realize that 20 blog posts over 365 days isn’t much. I also realize that each blog post does not have to be a great work of literature, nor does it have to be deep and profound. It can just be what it is.

I realize that my life is what I make it. If I am unhappy then I should do something about making myself happier. Alas, it is not reasonable to kill those around you who are making you miserable, so eating chocolate will continue to be my happy-maker.

I realize that my children are who they are. All I can do is help them to become the best “them” they can be. (did that make sense?) I can still yell at them randomly, but I should quit hoping that it’s going to turn them into saints.

I realize that my parents are getting older. I realize that “getting older” is code for “my parents are over 70 and are going to drive me to drinking hard liquor before my 42nd birthday.” I also realize I can’t send them to “the home” until they are actually ready to go.

I realize that you can’t make someone love you if they don’t. (with a nod to Bonnie Raitt there) Of course, you can always restrain them in a chair until they tell you what you want to hear.

Ah 2010! What glorious adventures do you hold? Judging from what I have written above, perhaps anger management classes? Nah. I’m a pretty happy girl.

 

Torn May 11, 2009

Filed under: Uncategorized — Becky @ 4:20 pm
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As far back as  can remember I wanted to be a mother. Second only to that wish was my desire to write.  As most writers and other creative types will attest, making a living doing something you love isn’t a likely prospect. What I need is one amazingly fabulous article to get picked up by a national publication.

Alas, I’m writing about affordable family vacations. *yawn* I firmly believe vacations should be expensive  and you should spend as much as you want because you are probably someplace you will never go again. Why not enjoy it to the fullest?

I digress.

I find myself faced with the possibility of taking a job with more tradtional hours, something I haven’t done since 1994, and hadn’t really planned on doing until my kids were several years older. Of course, I also hadn’t planned on being a single mother with a limited income.

I don’t want to spend more time away from my children since (most of the time) I actually enjoy their company (except when Zoe is in full mood mode, like now), but the need for food and shelter seems to outweigh the necessity of  being at home with them all summer. Especially since their grandmother will be able to care for them and take them to camps and enrichment programs.

I worry that if I’m not as easily accessible to them as usual that they might hang out with the wrong kids or forget to tell me something important about their day, or that they might not talk to me about the little things. I don’t want to miss out on a minute of Zac’s quirky humor or one of Zoe’s malaprops. I worry that they will start to share these things with my mom. She’s good, but she’s not me.

Only time can tell what kind of change this will bring into our lives. I just hope we can weather it like we have so many other storms and come out on the other side relatively unscathed.

 

Morning March 11, 2009

Filed under: Uncategorized — Becky @ 5:31 pm
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I’m thinking of getting up a petition to have all days start at 11 a.m. There would be no more of this dragging ourselves out of bed at 6 a.m. and turning to caffeine and a handful of supplements to get our aging bodies moving. Everyone would start their day refreshed and would get so much accomplished!

“What?”, you are saying. If so, you may be one of those annoying morning people who bounce out of bed with a bright smile, ready to face whatever your day may bring. You can tune out now.

Everyone else, listen up! We all know that as we get older we need more sleep than we did when we were a college student, partying until the wee hours, and crawling to classes the next morning in sweats, t-shirt and a funky looking ponytail. Anyway, your employer probably frowns on you coming to work dressed like that, unless, of course, you work at a gym. Just think of sleeping until 8 or 9 a.m., enjoying a leisurely morning, dropping the kids off at school, and arriving at work looking totally refreshed.

I love this idea because my morning usually involves me rolling out of bed at the last possible second, shaking my children violently to get them awake, (really, these people could sleep through nuclear warfare) then spending the next hour and a half repeating the phrases “eat your breakfast,” “wash your face and brush your teeth,” “get your clothes on,” “yes, you have to wear socks,” and “hurry up,” all while I try to turn my physical self into something resembling a human being. So, I end up putting my makeup on in the car.

I imagine a morning of sunshine, birds singing, and people knowing exactly what they need to do to get ready because we’ve been doing it like, virtually every morning since they could walk upright on their own. There would be no more bad hair days because I would be able to fix my hair while I was fully awake.

I realize the village elders had to get cracking early to make every second of daylight count, but we have electric lights now, so most work can be done any time of the day! I could be so much more efficient in a world where the day starts at 11 a.m. What is so wrong with that? Nothing, if it saves the sanity of people everywhere, and maybe keeps a few people from going postal.

 

This Is No Pleasure Cruise March 5, 2009

Filed under: Uncategorized — Becky @ 11:43 pm
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If you’ve come here to read about the joys of motherhood, the warm, fuzzy moments of parenting, the aha! moments that make each day brighter, run far and run fast.

Even as I am writing, I have an almost-nine-year-old boy who is raging around his room because I had the nerve to take his Nintendo DS away when he hit his sister while they were playing. I am an abomination among mothers, because, as he explained to me during his rant, if I loved him, I would know that he hit his sister on “accident.”

So, I am the worst mother ever. I am a divorced mom with a son who will be turning 9 next week, and a 10 1/2 year old daughter with more attitude than Mike Tyson. Fortunately, the kids have a really great dad to make up for my shortcomings in the mommy department.

My marriage wasn’t my first failure in the relationship sector of life. And a brief investigation into the merits of a dating site convinced me that the only available men in my part of the country wear camouflage and think that dead animal heads constitute interior decoration– or at least their photos would lead you to believe that. Alas, I’m not interested in dating Jed Clampett, so I remain unattached.

This is real life. It’s not pretty. It’s complicated, messy, and can turn you into a raging lunatic. Your only option is not to take it too seriously. I maintain that laughter is much healthier for you than tears.