L.G.

Life is good.

I spend a lot of time complaining on this blog. Famous singers/song writers often say they are most creative at their darkest times. Maybe that's true for all of us. Or maybe we're just more motivated to share our hardships than we are our celebrations (it is fun to bitch sometimes, no?).

Life is hard. But if it weren't difficult at times, we'd never be able to appreciate the truly good times.

Olivia will be 3 in August. It seems as though these past few years have flown by. Initially, I wasn't looking forward to the idea of motherhood. Once I had the privilege of meeting my daughter however, my mind took a different focus. I am so blessed to have such a beautiful, smart, and (honestly, for the most part, even though I like to complain about her) very well behaved young girl. She's leaving the stages of her baby-ness. It makes me sad and I wish I could hold her while she sleeps on my chest again, but everyday she does something else that I'm sure I'll be missing just as much within a few short years. She puts up with me and our crazy life. She trusts me completely and really loves me for no reason at all. I think that the blind faith held by most young children is enviable to us older folk, and frankly, something I strive for on a daily basis. Belief was a lot easier to capture during our more innocent years.

Yesterday, Rick helped me clean the house. This is not a new phenomenon, and I know I take his willingness to help for granted a lot of the time. Yesterday though, he cleaned the entire bathroom all by himself! He used bleach, cleaned the counter, even had it smelling nice, all without mentioning it to me once! Usually, I'd at least expect a "What do I do with the soap?" question, but no, he handled it all on his own. I know this isn't a huge feat. I also know by talking to other women that many of us do not have partners that are willing to take on domestic tasks. I struggle with letting him help me. The other night, I was cooking dinner and cleaning and my answer to his "what can I do to help?" question was "get out of my way." Instead, he went to another room to clean up. I'm starting to realize that while I do a lot, it is often by choice. If letting Rick put away the dishes (even if it's not always done correctly by my standards) gives me a chance to relax and take a break, I should let him! This is something I've just realized and am going to try to implement in our lives. I've never enjoyed needing help. I absolutely HATE asking for help. I've had to do it so much throughout my life and have been blessed by friends that are willing to help me, even when I was resentful about being helped in the first place. But Rick seems to be in this for the long haul.

This morning, as we were picking up cat litter and other trash that the racoon had torn out last night, with the dogs and cats running wildly thoughout the house, while Olivia cried for help with the potty, while my phone was ringing and everything else seemed to be going to hell in a handbasket, I thought about how much Rick must love us. Or how completely, horrible, terribly infrigginsane he must be to put up with so much chaos.

Either way, life is good.

Family

God gives us our relatives - thank God we can choose our friends.- Ethel Watts Mumford

Girl Time

As most chicks will admit, it is very hard finding girlfriends. VERY HARD. I have been lucky in life, however, and have made a handful of really good friends (girls) that I love. Unfortunately, they seem to be forever and a day away. At this current moment, I feel that if I do not hang out with some of my friends soon, this woman (me!) will be homocidal.



I've spent part of the past few days wondering how more women don't end up completely mentally broken or homicidal. It seems that even though we've gained equal rights, men have yet to fulfill their end of the bargain. I am thankful for my right to vote, work, etc... however it seems that as more responsibility (priviledge?) was given to women, the better off the men became. So now, not only are we still raising the children (whether you're a single parent or not, women do the brunt of the "work"), taking care of our parents and extended family, cooking, cleaning, doing laundry, dishes, and nurturing whatever seems to be around us, we are also charged with bringing home a paycheck, wjtb work takes away valuable hours of our lives. Don't get me wrong - I like , maybe even love, my job. This is not my plea to become a stay at home mom (although I doubt I'd have any extra free time even if I were). I am just ... stunned by the responsibility I face on a daily basis. As a worker, I want to do my job to the best of my ability and truly succeed professionally. As a mom, I want to make sure I spend quality time with my child, while teaching her right from wrong, disciplining her when necessary, and making sure that she knows she is my #1. As a girlfriend, I want to be happy and loving and not the stereotypical "nagging" and never satisfied woman. As a regular person, I want my house cleaned, food on the table, pets cared for, and my regular living environment taken care of. Trying to do all of this while retaining my sanity, at this point, seems impossible. How do people live like this?!?! I enjoy my time with my daughter. I can't handle a dirty house. I love my boyfriend and want him to be satisfied with our relationship. Where does that leave me? Drinking a glass of wine and blogging alone on the back deck while my house gets progressively dirtier and the boyfriend naps - seems to be the answer to that question.



Here's another question I do not have the answer to - Is this it? Is that what I have been waiting for? Don't get me wrong, for me to complain is a bit ... offensive to people out there that do not have the fantastic life that I know I live. But dude, I am tired. And grouchy. And filled with guilt that I'm never doing enough and the things I am doing will never be done to the best of my ability - who has the time???



I don't know if it's just today, but I'm unhappy. I'm unrested. I'm frustrated and ingrateful. All I want is a night alone with my friends where I can laugh and tell stories, and bitch and complain, and just do NOTHING but hang out like a normal person, not like a girlfriend or mom or worker or housecleaner, just me.



If this was anyone else's blog, I'd think "understandable, I get what you're saying," but because it's mine, I just feel like a bitch.

Things I Feel Like Complaining About:

1. Why is it that no matter how often I clean, it is NEVER clean in my house?!?! Who the hell decided that women are supposed to work, cook meals, do laundry, clean the house, take care of any person that happens to be blessed with her presence, be professionally successful, be a wonderful wife, mother, daughter, sister, and friend, and STILL somehow, somewhere find time for herself. At this point, my fantasy is coming home to a clean, empty, quiet house with Law and Order, wine, and a cool breeze blowing through my hair. Pathetic, I know.
2. My mom used to tell me that in most relationships, there's always one person that is primarily the "giver". WTF is that about? Honestly, I've been both in relationships so I kind of see how it can happen, but being on either side consistently and for a long time is ANNOYING!!! When I was on the receiving end, it somehow (this is so ... sexist, I know) seemed extremely pathetic to be receiving constant demonstrations of affection. Now here I am on the other side of the spectrum, wondering when recognition and appreciation will pop up... if ever.
3. Although I like being in charge sometimes, I do NOT like having to be asked for each and everything. "Where should I put the trash?" "Can you check to see if the food is done?" "How should I clean the living room?" Really? Are these serious questions that you can't answer on your own? Do you really need instruction from me to figure out how to wipe your ass? What is happening here?
4. Being asked to do things without being given the tools or flexibility to do them is another annoying factor in my life currently. You say you want an apple. I can go pick you apples, however instead of agreeing to this, you ask for a detailed outline of how those apples will be picked, who will be involved, why they're being picked, so on and so forth. Really?
5. Guilt trips. Anyone that's familiar with my family understands what I may be referring to. How a conversation can go to "We're heading out to eat" to "I feel like you blame me for everything that's wrong with the world because you don't come to see me more than once a week nor call more than once a day..." is beyond me. Who are these people? Why are they delusional? Why must they push their insecurities and insanities upon others who are barely getting by on the sanity thing themselves?
6. Why is it that no matter how much money I make, I'm still broke? HOW DOES THIS HAPPEN? It is the most frustrating, humiliating, mind boggling thing I can think of. I know that the more money one makes, the higher expenses seem to get, but when thinking about my own situation, I cannot name one less bill I had when making significantly less money than what I have now... Is this some type of conspiracy to keep the poor folk poor? If so, it's working!

I'm sure there'll be more to come, but at least now I feel a bit more satisfied.

Guilt

It seems like I always have some form of guilt about something. It's been like this since I was little - one of the hazards of my upbringing.

I've been reading this book called 12 Christian Beliefs that Can Drive You Crazy. I think some of these beliefs are what feed my guilt. To clarify, the things listed in the book aren't necessarily biblical beliefs, but assumptions that many Christians may make that seem biblical. For example, one of my favorites is "Give your problems to God and everything will be much better." I understand the basic principle - try not to worry and rely on God to get you thru the tough times, however not only is that easier said than done, but it's also not a cure-all for any and every challenge that pops up in life. Just by praying and saying you're giving your worries to God does not mean that your life will automatically improve and that your worries will disappear. In fact, believing that is the case can drive one to the brink of insanity and self hatred ("if I still feel depressed/worried/stressed, I must not be giving it all to God, which means that I have some sort of problem" - adding to the already stressful situation).

Although I think my family has good intentions, guilt has been an ingrained emotion throughout my life. My mom was never mad, only "disappointed." I was given the freedom to chose most of my decisions, however the implications of how what I chose could or would affect others was always presented to me in a very guilt inducing manner. Taking on responsibility for others' feelings and well-being seems to be a genetic trait that has been passed down through the women of my family for a while now. My hope is to break this cycle and allow Olivia the freedom to taking care of herself first, guilt free.

Guys Whom Have Had the Pleasure of Dating Yours Truly

First, I guess I should give you some background. I'm usually the one in my group of friends that is single. Chronically single, some may say. It's not something I've minded, though I won't pretend that I was always comfortable when out with my "coupled" friends, nor will I say I was never lonely, or curious about the whole "love thing." I'm picky. I also like to think I'm mentally healthy, knowing that I do not need someone to complete me. I can't say I've not dated some real losers, but I also can't say I was everyone's ideal partner either. Anyone that was able to put up with my craziness for an extended amount of time deserves some type of positive recognition. I've stopped dating guys for weird reasons (arms too hairy, underwear not my preferred style, etc...), but I've never regretted any of those reasons. In fact, I don't think I have many regrets about my love life, other than the fact that I gave "love" (for lack of a better word) to some men that just didn't deserve it (what woman hasn't though, right?).

For the sake of sparing feelings and other people's privacy, these dudes will not be identified by any more than a nickname (created by me). :-) Hehehehe.....

*** This will no doubt contain much more information than anyone would ever want to know***

First kiss: M. was one year older than me in school and he kissed me in band class when I was 14. I immediately wanted to throw up and was extremely disappointed in the entire experience.

Shorty: I thought he was the coolest thing since jarred pickles (b/c bread is stupid) and he eventually liked me too. It was my first and only high school "romance." We dated on and off for most of my high school career and surprisingly, it was me who finally ended things for good. Before the last break up, there were numerous smaller ones, mostly revolving around the topic of sex (he wanted it, I was saving myself for marriage!!!). At one point during one of our "breaks," he took the virginity of another girl from our school. I heard all about it the next Monday during classes - about how he hung her undies from his rear view mirror and actually did a celebration dance immediately following the act. I believe the straw that actually broke the camel's back, so to speak, was when we were making out and he reminded me of a tiny, tiny person that completely disgusted me. After that, my obsession died.

Tall as Balls - This was my main college "romance." It lasted for the majority of my time at OU, consuming my first 2 years of college. He was an athlete, with smooth words and a friendly demeanor. I would cry at night in our dorm room, listening to Brandy or Monica's love songs while my roommates tried to sleep, just hoping that one day, he'd love me as much as I thought I loved him. Some highlights of this relationship include:

* Once I stayed in his hotel room with him (he was kicked out of school briefly for grades) and the next morning, had to take a taxi back to my house. The taxi driver inquired about my rates.

* I had a skin infection on my face that I thought at the time was herpes (turned out it wasn't, but until I learned differently, I totally freaked out). I saw him out that weekend and took a swing at him that was immediately blocked by his friend - who promptly got bitch slapped by yours truly.

We eventually were able to become friends, but needless to say, he's not one of my BFFs.

The Choker: My first "adult" relationship. We met at work. I wasn't initially attracted to him, but he grew on me after the first time we hung out recreationally. Our romance was horribly intense and seemed to happen really fast. To be honest, I believe that most of those intense emotions were left over from the partying we were doing on the weekends. The rush of the buzz, the beach, the whirlwind of people and friends around us... It all just added up to be this fierce, fast event that went as quickly as it came. To make a long and complicated story short and simple, the relationship deteriorated fast once the "fun" was replaced with reality. Eventually, altercations got physical (which is why I call him the choker). I remember calling my friend the next day to confess to her that I had become "one of those women that allowed that stuff to happen to them" and how broken and useless I felt. Luckily, that was the first and hopefully the last time I will ever feel so low. Ironically, I heard from The Choker within recent months and he apologized for being a less than stellar boyfriend. Somehow, I can honestly say I have no hard feelings.

The Donkey: This is my way of being nice and not calling him the asshole. We met at one of my work events and I found him pretty darn attractive. We hung out at a more reasonable pace than that of The Choker and I. It was the first relationship I'd considered having since becoming a mother, so I was extremely apprehensive, in an excited way. Our story was short and pretty sour. He was ultimately a very rude, unhappy guy that liked to push his unhappiness onto anyone in the area. He was a funny guy, but it was almost constantly 100% mean type of funny. He wasn't comfortable at all with dating someone who had a child. We did most of our communicating through text and email and so one day, when I had reached my limit, I emailed him a very mean, honest email to tell him not to bother talking to me ever, ever again. I'm not mean like that very often and when I am, it's quickly followed by some massive guilt. Not this time - a huge weight had been lifted off of my shoulders and I not only felt justified, but validated. Quite a while later, he emailed an apology to me, telling me that he was only so mean because he was just very unhappy with himself at that point in his life. While I understand his words, I'm not regretful at all about how things turned out.

My Love: My current beau. :-) I'm not one of those people who is comfortable at all with talking nice about their partner. I often find it awkward, alienating for others, and just mostly bullshit. This is my one time exception. I never ever ever EVER thought I would find someone that is so perfect for me. When I found out I was pregnant with Olivia, my fears were confirmed - how could I find a guy that would be perfect not only for me, but for my child too???? Funny how things work out... We knew each other when we were very young (pre-school age type stuff) because our families were friends. As we got older, we weren't close at all and I just saw him as that little boy that I loved to tease. He tells me that he stopped by some of my apartments during my college years and hung out, but my memories of those days are hit and miss. The next time I remember seeing him was in town in all his grown up hotness. I was with my friend Dave at the time and I remember telling Dave how impressed/attracted I was. A few myspace messages later and here we are! I can't begin to describe the ways in which we're perfect for each other - it's such a surprising find and I feel lucky to say that I have what I think most people long for and many people never find. I'm able to be the same in front of him as I'd be alone - I'm not ashamed of singing and dancing through the house, or eating crazy food concoctions while he questions my sanity. I love hearing him snore and trying to get his limp body off of me when he does his "tests" to make sure I'd be able to move him if he somehow died on top of me (we are weird, I already know). A few weeks ago, he was holding me upside down, pretending to hump me while I screamed for mercy. It was then I realized that maybe we really are meant to be, that maybe I've actually found that one person that complements my life perfectly. Good thing I kissed all those frogs, eh? :-)

Random Billie Facts

So I've been thinking about things to blog about and it's actually harder to pick a topic than I imagined.  This time, I'm going to mimic the 25 Things About Me thing that was going around Facebook a while back.

1. I can't throw up solids.  I had surgery when I was a junior at OU and haven't thrown up anything beyond stomach acid since then (which really sucked when I got food poisoning after dining in an Italian restaurant in Mexico).
2. I use the word "republican" as an insult, even though I don't' really mean it.
3. Sometimes I wish I had a penis so I could do cool stuff with it (put it in random places, spell words with pee, etc...).
4. I honestly disagree with vegetarians.  I believe meat was created to be enjoyed deliciously.  If I could convert them all, I would.
5. I experimented with drugs in college and don't regret any of it (it came in handy during child birth when I needed to keep reminding myself I was numb b/c of drugs - been there, done that before!).  I do worry that Olivia will do the same stuff and that she won't be as lucky to not get hurt as I was.
6. I don't really want to have boy children.  I will love them when/if I have them, but I find them more annoying than girls because they tend to be more physical and I'm also unsure about changing their diapers b/c they can aim where they pee (which is ironic that I dislike that feature in this situation - see #3).
7. I truly hate talking on the phone (unless it's wine night - woot woot!).  I would much rather be texted, emailed, or smoke signalled than have to answer my friggin phone (which is probably why it's always on silent).
8. I'm still bitter about high school.  People were mean for no damn reason and I'm ashamed (kinda) to say that I not only am still pissy about it, but I also take joy in their misery (not everyone's misery, just the mean people - karma's a bitch!).  Obviously, this is something I need to work on....
9. I am happy about 95% of the time.  I used to have anxiety, but that hasn't been present in my life for quite some time (thanks Prozac!!!).  I think I may have finally learned to let go of what I can't control (except for approximately 5% of the time).
10. I'm now paranoid that not only will my anxiety reappear, but I will now be UNhappy 95% of the time b/c I jinxed myself by writing #9.
11. I cuss in front of Olivia.  I have no plans of stopping.  I like cussing because it allows me to express myself with words.  I've discovered that as long as I say "bad word" after I cuss, she doesn't repeat the cuss word, only "bad word."  Success.
12. I never ever pictured myself with a man living happily ever after.  Even when I was younger, I imagined myself as a successful single mother living in a Seinfeld-esque world.  I'm disappointed to know that that world doesn't exist, but I'm happily surprised to now think that I will live happily ever after with a really good guy.
13. I am considering shaving my feet.  
14. I talk too much.  Not the talk too much kind where you just talk to fill silences, I tell too much about myself.  I do this, in part, because I feel as though confession is good for the soul and I'd much rather be the bearer of too much information than to have someone find out through other means.  
15. I love to be shocking.  From grabbing my crotch and thrusting at my mom to telling too much about my personal life, I get a thrill from other people's reactions.
16. I still crave attention.  I thought I would have outgrown this by now, but #s 14 and 15 prove that it's not the case.
17. I cannot stand mean people.  I know that I'm not often politically correct (if you think this blog is bad, you should know me in person), but I cannot stand it when people are mean to other people just to be mean.  I dated a guy that did this constantly and eventually, I was mean to him and ditched his ass.  Boo-ya.
18. If I could have my dream job, I would just write about random things and make money doing it.
19. I suck at being financially healthy.  I don't know how I do it, but I can't save a damn dime!  I've spreadsheeted my budget, I've opened different accounts with other companies that are harder for me to get to, I've hidden cash from myself.  Nothing works.  I think it's genetic (my entire family has the same problem).  I really wish someone else would handle my money for me.
20. I'm not sure I'll move out of Athens.  This is a confession for me because in the past, I always saw that way of thinking to symbolize failure.  My perception is changing on that, however, and I'm now seeing it as a sign of contentment with my current life.
21. Sometimes I look at my myspace profile and it makes me cry with happiness that my life has been so awesome.
22. The jobs that I have loved the most are the ones that stressed me out the most.  I love working under pressure and feeling like what I do is actually important.  If I could pick, however, I wouldn't work, I'd travel and just live life.
23. Sometimes I get bummed by thinking that our lives are filled with things we "have to do."  To think of spending the majority of my life working at some job (even if I like it) instead of seeing the world and experiencing everything there is to experience is depressing, so I try not to think about that too much.
24. I didn't think I'd love Olivia as much as I loved Jake (not kidding).  
25. I have regular delusions of grandeur and I think that's what keeps me sane.

Fourth of July

This is an email (and her response) that I sent to my friend on July 6, 2006:

The fourth was decent.  Went to see crap fireworks w/ my aunt, uncle, and grams.  The show was absolutely horrible, and made me feel a tad nastalgic.  None of us did anything last year.  I think Jerm had planned on doing something, but it rained and so you guys stayed home too.  I think about this one quote that I found when I first moved to Jax "With one hand the past pushes us onward while with the other hand it holds us back."  I thought it was very applicable then, and most definitely now.  I get kinda wishy washy thinking i wasted last year to do nothing, not knowing that it would be my last fourth as just me.  I mentioned it to another friend (texted after the show) and she replied w/ "there'll be a million more 4th of julys" but that wasn't what I was talking about. 

But this I DO remember ...... when we went to the beach for fireworks with you (your first time) and you were in awe of how cool it was to be on the beach in Florida watching the show. ("This is my life ... I can't believe it!")  And I remember how I felt to vicariously feel your excitement!   My thought is this, when you watch your baby see her first show (that she can actually enjoy) and you see the excitement on her face, you will be so full of joy!  Those are the 4th's that you have to look forward to.  You get to see her first everything ... How cool is that!!! :) 

Of course, I didn't believe anything she said at that time.  I was busy being miserable, fat, hot, and terrified.  Moving back to Ohio because I got unexpectedly pregnant was NOT in my plan.  At that point in my life, I felt like my life was ruined.  I had no idea how to change a diaper or soothe a crying baby, much less teach it everything it would need to know in life.  I was so angry and frustrated and ungrateful...  And then, in walks Irony.

Not only do I feel like my life truly improved when Olivia was born, but this fourth of July will be Rick and my first year anniversary together.  To imagine my life would be so full, so happy, so hectic, chaotic, crazy, and complete, was impossible for me back then.  Not only do I have a beautiful little girl who amazes me on a daily basis with her innocence, intelligence, beauty, curiosity, and unwavering love, I'm sharing all of this with a man that truly enjoys Olivia as much as I do.

I used to be a planner.  I had my budget in spreadsheet format, color coded and done for years in advance.  I would plan my future, constantly waiting for the "next step" in life.  All of that shattered on December 20, 2005 after I took 6 home pregnancy tests and had my suspicions confirmed by a doctor.  I remember driving around after my dr's appointment, getting lost in my own neighborhood because I was in such shock.  I spent a lot of the following months crying, feeling as though I'd lost everything I'd worked for.  I'm ashamed of myself now.  I remember my mom telling me during the end of my pregnancy that I was carrying a miracle and should appreciate that.  I had no idea what she was talking about then, but I do now.  I have only one regret in life - that I was so unhappy during my pregnancy with Olivia.  If only I could have seen how much the future held for us.