Thursday, April 10, 2014

Introspect with a dash of doubt

"Are you doubting yourself again?"

This is what my boss said to me yesterday as I pow-wowed with my favorite co-worker of all time. I was working on a project. A large, complex and highly obnoxious project. Now, remember, I love my job. I do! I love waking up every morning because I get to work/play with people that I admire, respect and best of, like. My work family, they're the best.

But, "Are you doubting yourself again?"

It really got me thinking. At that moment, I wasn't doubting myself, I was just working through some details. So, yay me! But he was right, I doubt myself.

I doubt myself.

And inevitably, that doubt grows teeth and claws and morphs into a ravaging  beast. Or, as it's better known, worry.

I worry that I'm a bad wife. I worry that I am too critical of my husband. Or that I'm not affectionate enough. Or that I exclude him or ignore him. I worry that I'm selfish and petty. I worry that I'm not beautiful enough.

I worry that I'm an awful friend. I'm pretty sure that I have a tendency to be a hermit. I worry that I don't contribute to my friendships. I worry that I'm a one-way street. I worry that I either say too much or too little. I worry that I don't reach out or that I don't see others reaching out to me.

I worry about being a lame-ass employee. I worry that I'm too sarcastic and mouthy. I worry that I don't do enough. Or that I do too much. I worry that I have a tendency to react, not act.

But most of all, I worry that I'm a terrible mom. Am I too strict or not strict enough? I worry that I'm mean-spirited and am teaching my girls to be mean-spirited. I worry that I'm completely inappropriate and rude. I worry that I put too much pressure on them or expect too much. I worry that my standards are too high. I worry that I model a horrible human being and am influencing them to be the same. I worry that I say too much or not enough. I'm sure I yell too much. I worry that I can't find the balance between smothering them and giving them their space.I think I need them too much and that I don't want them to have their secrets. I worry that I'm too nosy. I worry that I just suck.

I think, as women, we are naturally inclined to worry. We worry and we "mother" and we tend to those around us. Even if they don't want us to. Even if we aren't good at it. Is it because we are biologically and chemically wired to do so? Is it because that's the role that society tells us we have to play? Is it because our brains never shut up? NEVER. SHUT. UP. In trying to shut our brains up, do we fill our lives completely and stay busy, busy, busy?

I swore I would never be my mother. She's a great woman, don't get me wrong. But she is non-confrontational and I think that leads her to be taken advantage of. Before you get a mental picture, let me set the stage. My mom taught Kindergarten for 25 years. She was an amazing teacher. People placed their kids on lists to get into her class. Her students loved her and she loved her students. By the time she retired, she was teaching second and third generations of some of her original students. She is well known and well-loved by her peers, her students and her community. If I knew what was good for me, I would aspire to be like her. But I don't and I'll tell you why. She's under appreciated by the man who should cherish her as the most precious thing he could possibly get his hands on. But most horribly, she was under appreciated and not respected by someone who should have known better. Me. It's true, I didn't respect her. I thought she was ignorant and oblivious. I didn't ask for or graciously receive advice or direction from her. I separated myself from my family and shut them out of my life. I was a bitch. A rotten, selfish, nasty bitch.

So, I decided that wouldn't happen in my house. I was involved early on with the girls. I knew their friends. I spent time with them. A lot of time. As much as I could. I still do! I asked tough questions. Seriously, it isn't unheard of for me to ask things like, "So, are you having sex?" "Are you you doing drugs?" "Have you tried alcohol". Out of the blue and totally unexpected. I'm not afraid to ask the questions and have uncomfortable conversations. It's far more likely for the girls to be embarrassed by hard questions than me.

But in the midst of these teen years, I find myself constantly second guessing decisions and things I say. I worry that I'm saying too much of the wrong thing and not enough of the right thing.

I doubt myself.

What's the solution? Is there one? Am I alone? How do I be a better wife, mom, friend? A better person?


Saturday, March 29, 2014

Yooh miGht nt fel gud afTer u red ths

Gud mrNing frnds! How R u? AlL gud hear, jst blogin sum sTuff!

Now that I've caused my spell check to have a seizure, can you read that? Does it make you want to scratch your eyeballs right out of your head? I typed it out and I still can't believe it. This, my friends, is how a lot of people communicate write type pound random letters on the keyboard and hope it comes out looking like a word. Now, don't get me wrong...I can use "text speech" as well as the next idiot person... gtfo lol whatev. See? But really, I only do it in my mind or when I'm typing really, really fast in an online gaming environment. It's just another form of shorthand. But when I'm actually trying to interact with people, I spell correctly, use proper grammar and never hesitate to liberally sprinkle my writing with commas and periods. And by interact, I mean trying to present myself as an Educated Fuck, as compared to an Uneducated Fuck.

I just feel that if you look or "sound" stupid when you engage in online conversations, people are going to assume that you are, in fact, stupid. Maybe I'm just crazy.

May I present, the best inadvertent ad for education I've ever seen.

Disclaimer: No Facebook friends were harmed in the making of this post. But The Blogger was. Seriously, after reading this, The Blogger felt ill.

Tuesday, January 7, 2014

On being the change

A word to the wise. And by wise, I mean my when I say "wise", I'm using it in the broadest sense possible.

If I see the need to go to bat for you or otherwise address a screaming issue on your behalf, just let me.

Really...just let me.

I've never been one to ignore shit that's wrong or let anyone or anything roll over me, so logic will tell you that if someone or something needs some mom attention, I'm your girl.

Being a sheep or ignoring wrong because you don't want to "cause trouble" or because it doesn't directly affect you has never worked out well. Just check your history books.

Change doesn't come on its own my young Padawans, it needs voices and if we can't be those voices, who will?

Monday, January 6, 2014

The future looms

Today, a rare and wonderful thing has happened. I am at home. Alone. Ahhh, bliss. The minions went back to school this morning, and I don't mind telling you that 6:00 am came horrifically early. I, however, don't have to return to work until Wednesday. Wednesday! As of this minute, I have had my coffee, taken a nap, showered and folded some laundry. I have a list a mile long of things I need to do, but fully intend to do as little as possible for the remainder of the day.

My day of luxury did get me thinking...what in the world am I going to do with myself when my girls are gone? I do work and I have a small circle of friends, but will that really fill my time? I highly doubt it. The Mr. works all the time and my family doesn't live close by, so who am I going to play with?

Apparently, I need some more hobbies...

I'll start a list:

Things I like to do that may possibly fill my hours when I become alone and crotchety

I like to read. However, this is a solitary endeavor.
Blogging. Again, best done alone.
I am a gamer. Did you know? Don't worry, the girls didn't suspect it either. Sadly, this is another activity that doesn't require company.
I love Disneyland. Maybe, I could move there and play with the guests every day.
Traveling makes me happy. I better start saving my money, yeah?
I am a fan of volunteering, but one can't volunteer every spare hour...right?
I like taking pictures. Maybe, I'll take some photography classes.
I also want to finish a book (at some point). Maybe I'll take some creative writing/publishing classes.

That's really all I've got... Not very encouraging, is it?


Sunday, January 5, 2014

An open letter to bullies and jackasses

There seems to be a new behavior in the online world. Well, okay, it's not new. Maybe social media is just taking it to a new level. People have a constant and driving need to educate other people. Specifically, those who have different ideas or beliefs. Have you noticed? It's everyfuckingwhere.

Let's say, I post something like... Coffee is best served hot.

Then, I wax prolific about how the steam is best inhaled at a 45 degree angle through the right nostril. And how one should hold the mug with the left hand over the right. Then, perhaps, I might post a picture of a coffee cup with steam rising out of it (because, let's face it, a coffee mug is really hard to picture in your mind's eye).

The next thing I know, 25 people have agreed and shared stories of their own coffee drinking adventures. 17 people have like my photo and said, "Lol". And then the educators arrive.

Clearly, I don't know which coffee is best. I haven't added the right amount of creamer. The coffee should always be made with a press and for God's sake, don't defile that shit with sugar.

Well, it's a damn good thing they were there to educate me. Where have they been my entire life while I was drinking coffee incorrectly? And who the fuck do I think I am claiming to know anything about coffee?

Now, I'm hoping you have seen through my clever little example to realize that I'm not talking about drinking a fucking cup of coffee. I'm talking about real ideas. Real beliefs. Things like faith and politics and lifestyle choices. Things like immunizations and raising your children.

If I think or believe differently that you do, that's not an invitation for you to "educate" me. Seriously. Now, don't get be wrong, I really enjoy hearing different points of views and experiences. That's how we learn and grow as a society. Listening with respect and appreciating another view or experience. But, you're not welcome to try and show me the error of my ways and set me on the "right" path. You are also not welcome to make rude or condescending remarks about ignorance and stupidity in people that don't happen to agree with you.

If you think I'm stupid, you are free to do so. In the quiet of your own mind and the confines of your own home. You can think it. You can think it whilst talking to me. You can imagine all the ways I'm wrong and roll your eyes (to yourself). But the moment a condescending remark passes your lips or streams through your fingertips, you have transformed from a regular person to a douche bag. And no one appreciates a douche bag. I can't count how many times I've seen or heard people like this whine about how hard it is to talk to "ignorant" people. Define ignorance. Maybe stop a moment and think that perhaps you're the "ignorant" one and that it's nearly impossible to talk to you.

So, for those of you that are hell bent on straightening everyone else out (you know who you are), I say this, the fastest way to alienate people is to treat them like they're stupid or ignorant. How about this, be willing to engage in an intelligent conversation and don't judge. Be open to new ideas or thoughts. And lest you become frightened at the thought of new ideas, remember that just because you gain knowledge or another faith or political standpoint, it doesn't automatically "convert" you to that "side". And if that is just too much for you to handle, stay on your side of the fence, I have no interest in cluttering up my life with bullies and naysayers.

Friday, March 29, 2013

Seeing is believing

Just when you think you've seen it all, you encounter the following:

  • A roving pack of cops on bikes. Seriously, there was a pack of them and they were roving the streets.
  • A chick with a tattoo of the name "Chucky" on the side of her neck. Now, don't get me wrong, I have 3 tattoos and am fully planning on getting more but can you see all the wrong going on here? First of all, neck tattoos smack of ghetto to me. Maybe that's me just being a judgemental bitch but come on. Secondly, I can only assume that this woman got the tattoo to honor her kid but really, who in their right mind names their kid "Chucky"? I don't care how cute your kid might be, when I see/hear the name Chucky, all I can think of is this...
                                           See? This is not good. This is bad...very bad.
  • And the last little jewel I have for you is witnessing a forklift being driving down a main road. With a dog inside. Backward.

Good stuff, folks. Good stuff.