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Thursday, November 16, 2017

My Version of a Mid-Life Crisis....Apparently

So, I did something.  A few things, actually.

After I did them, my sister said, "Changing it up in your 50's!"

I honestly hadn't thought about it as an aging woman choice, just a wanting a change choice.

But, now that I look at it, I guess it is my version of a mid-life crisis.  I just didn't get a hot new car or a hot new man and leave my husband and kids.  LOL

So, here is what I did...I went from this:

  (I still say I had pretty hair, but...)

To this:
Fun and sassy. 

However, apparently that wasn't enough for me, so  a few weeks later, I went back and did this:

Instead of a little red sports car, I got a sassy, little, red hairdo!

I am loving it.  Rainman loves it.  The kids love it.  My mother-in-law even loved it and said it made me look younger.

I will take that!

Thursday, October 26, 2017

Happy Anniversary Rainman

Rainman and I have been married for 21 years today.

Really a crazy thought to me.  Sort of like I don't feel 50.  I also don't feel like I am someone that has been married for over 20 years, like a real grown up.

Marriage is really something else, isn't it?

Fantastic at times.

Not so fantastic at times.

Annoying..... much of the time.

But, I wouldn't have it any other way.

I am currently in an annoyed state of mind with Rainman.  Nothing major. Just lots of little things.  I have learned, in my old age, that these things are cyclical and shall pass.  So, I sort of silently go along with life. 

Honestly, usually he doesn't even notice.

But, of course, he turned to me in bed a few nights ago and said, "Hey, what's wrong? You mad at me?"

To which, I internally rolled my eyes and said (inside of my head), "Seriously...right now, at 11:00 at night.  Now is the time you actually pay attention and notice that I am perturbed at you?!?!?"

Outloud, I actually said something like, "Just sort of annoyed, in general."  He then wanted to know if he had done something "new" to annoy me or if it was the same old, same old.  Ha!

I admitted that it was nothing new.  He pecked me on the cheek.  Rolled over and went to sleep.

It totally makes me laugh today.

Because that is how marriage is.

You are annoyed.

You are angry.

You are teamed up with this person, so, buckle up, get over it, and move on.

My Facebook memories thing popped up with this post that I wrote 2 years ago for our anniversary.

Aren't I just the gushiest female you have ever met?  Bwaaahaahaha!

Every word of it is true though.

I know this man loves me.

I hope he knows that I love him.

But, man oh man, that guy can rub me the wrong way sometimes.  I do wonder if there are marriages out there that aren't like that.  The ones that are married to their best friends.  I don't know.  Maybe I am being too pessimistic about a marriage partnership.  But, I don't think so. I think we are human and I think we can all be jerks sometimes, even to our best friends, so, my version of a happy, successful marriage feels much more realistic.

Does that stop me from having  the occasional fleeting thought would think after 21 years, that man would know me a bit better.  


But, I will say this: We have a happy marriage.  We have a healthy marriage.  I do not want to be married to anyone else besides Rainman.


Do I always feel understood?


I think this might be the biggest reason that I will admit that I am NOT married to my best friend.  Rainman does not understand me.  He certainly understands pieces of me and can sometimes predict how I will react to something.  Sometimes.  But, he doesn't really understand me, my thought processes, my feelings about many things, or what makes me tick.  Is that part of being a mysterious woman?  I don't know.  He tries, sometimes and other times, I know he just throws his hands in the air and gives up on ever understanding the frustrating, inscrutable woman that I am!

Do I always feel cherished?


But, I bet he doesn't always feel cherished either.  I think this is the good and bad thing about being in a good marriage.  You take each other for granted.  You don't really worry about the other one getting so sick of you that they will leave.  We are confident in each other and our marriage, so we don't always "try" super hard.  We just let our hair down and don't worry about the consequences.  But, as I am typing this, I am thinking....I wish he wouldn't let his hair down quite so much....which then led to me thinking....I suppose he is probably thinking the same thing about me.


I am going to have to work at this marriage thing too. 

It is so much easier to see the areas where a relationship isn't super great.  It is probably very easy to allow yourself to think that someone else would understand you better or love you more fully. 

But, I think that is a big crock.  It isn't realistic.  Love really is a choice.  I know, I know.  Total cliche.  But, for our marriage, and for most good marriages, it is true.  It has to be.  We choose to be together. 

For good or bad.  In sickness and in health.  For skinny or for fat.  For they "get me" or they don't.  For hurt feelings or not.  For P. U.  to Old Spice.  For we are rolling in dough to we are drowning in debt.

I know when push comes to shove, Rainman will have my back.  I hope he knows I have his too. 

There are times that I know he is doing things simply because he loves me and wants to make me happy.  I do have a tendency to take those for granted and just accept them at face value and as my due. 

Like, this house.  Although Rainman and the rest of the kids are now also completely in love with this house, it was my desire for a home that worked better for our family, that started it all.  They were content where we were and didn't think much about having anything else.  But, Rainman, knew I wasn't happy there and he wanted me to be happy. (Again, not that a house can make or break your happiness... but, those of you that have seen me in both houses, totally understand what I am talking about.)

The little ways that Rainman loves me are things as simple as keeping my van full of gas, doing most of the grocery shopping or not being annoyed when I come up with a new gadget or eating plan (never cheap) that is going to finally help me lose all this weight.  He doesn't outwardly roll his eyes or say anything about the cost.  He just says, "okay" and figures out a way for it to fit into the budget.  Meanwhile, the man continues to love me just the same as he would if I were a size 8 again.

The little ways that I love Rainman can probably be easily overlooked too. Cooking.  Cleaning.  Doing the laundry and folding his clothes the way he wants them and not the way I want them.  The typical housewife type things.  I don't do them because I love them and feel super fulfilled by them.  I do them because I love him....and the kids....and I want this home to be a peaceful haven for them. 

It is what you do when you love someone.  Try to think about them as much as you think about yourself, and maybe, just maybe, a little bit more than you think about yourself.

I am trying. I probably fail more times that I succeed.  But, I am trying.  Rainman and I have tried for the last 21 years and will do it for the next 21 years. 

Choose to love each other....warts and all.


Wednesday, October 18, 2017

Whiny Curmudgeon Alert

This post has been sitting in draft form on my blog since last spring.  I was reminded about it last night when Rainman told me that we have to bring stuff to share with my high school daughter's team this weekend. Then he informed me that the last time everyone brought drinks/snacks to share, the kids hardly even touched them.  I practically shouted at the poor man. "So, what is the point? Why can't everyone just bring their own stuff?!?"  Which sparked my memory of this post I wrote and apparently wasn't brave enough to publish last spring.  I am feeling feisty today, so here you go:

Okay, I can't control myself.  I have to vent a little here.


Why do kids need "snacks" for their sporting events.

Why do 12 year olds all the way up to 18 year olds, need mommies and daddies to sign up to bring "snacks" to the little darlings?

I am using snacks on quotation marks because apparently in some circles, snacks actually means meals.

We have numerous kids in sports.  Already a fairly expensive endeavor when you factor in fees, sports physicals, and any equipment that the athlete needs.  Now add in the fact that transportation needs to be provided to and from "away" events (although there have been 2 where they have actually been able to ride a bus).  Also. add in that of the 3 kids in a sport this current season, somehow their games all seem to be on the same night and around the same time.  Rainman works many of those nights, so there have literally been times that I was supposed to be 3 different places at 3 different times.

So, yes, I am already a bit ticked off about sports.  Now, add in the expectation that I am supposed to not only feed my own 6 kids, but the team and in some cases, the coaches.  I believe the magic number for one team was to feed 25 people.

For the 12 year old, the expectation is actually a quotation marks.  But, my problem is the same:  Why?  Why can't I just give a snack or meal to my own child?

The reasoning for the high school team "snack" is that they get out of school and then have to head to their game.  This is where I begin rolling my eyes, just like a teenager, and say, "So, what?"

My question, albeit said under my breathe (because apparently I am the only non-Stepford parent in these parts), during the meeting where I was informed of this requirement, was......why can't they just pack themselves a sack lunch on game days?  Why can't they make themselves a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, throw in a bag of chips and a Gatorade and call it a day.  Feed themselves what they would like and what they will actually eat.  They have shown they are responsible and can actually....gasp.....feed themselves.  Their parents don't have to take out a loan in order to feed the team, or take off of work or make arrangements for the food to be delivered to the school at the appropriate time.

To me, this is just lunacy.  

Why do high schoolers still have a snack list for their parents to be involved in?

Why does a 12 year old team have a snack list?

It is idiotic.

It is.

I love my kids.

I want my kids to do well, in life, in sports, in love.

But, geez Louise, they can feed themselves if they need to.

My precious little snowflakes will survive if they have to snarf down a slightly squished PB&J and not a hot Chic-Fil-A sandwich or something before their game.

It may surprise people to know that I was once an athlete.  I was also a frequent participant in dramatic shows and competitions.  I also competed in vocal productions and competitions.

My mom never had to bring snacks for me or the "team".  Ever.

Was she asked to volunteer at fundraisers.  Yes.  Did she have to drive me back and forth constantly.  Not really.  I will admit that she had to do it occasionally, but in the olden days, there were buses for that, or it pretty much didn't happen.  She also did not attend my "away" activities (but that is a whole other blog rant).

We also planned ahead and either had a big lunch at school on game day or threw in an extra sandwich for later, to hold us over.  Then, when we got home, we snarfed down whatever we could find.

Our church also asks parents to volunteer a few times a year to bring a "snack" for the youth group on Sunday nights.  Yes, I am again using "snack" in quotation marks.  Yes, I understand the idea in theory, but I wonder what is wrong with them eating when they get home at 6:30 or 7:00.  You know? I do not volunteer very often because of a few reasons:

Number one:  The concept annoys me.  (Surprise.  Ha!)

Number two:  Those kids waste a LOT of food.  (I have a thing about wasted food.  Ask anyone who has met me).  I serve a plate of food and then 15 minutes later when they are cleaning up to start playing their games, I see a full plate being thrown in the trash.  We paid good money for that food and could use it at home if you aren't going to eat it. Don't take it if you don't want it.  Which brings me to...

Number three:  Money.  Rainman and I are working hard for our money.  Money that I would like to decide where it is to be used.  We give quite a bit to charity.  We tithe.  I don't really want to include a budget item for feeding other people's kids every month.  Feeding my own costs enough.  I am okay feeding my own kids.  I am also okay if my kids skip a meal every now and again.  When you start adding up all the extra money, it is not cheap.  Especially, if you happen to have more than 1 or 2 kids.

I just don't understand what has happened to our society where this expectation is normal.  Where it is up to me to make sure my kid (and every other kid on the team) has enough energy or hydration to compete in their chosen sport.  If you, as a grown up, have a meeting from 5 to 7 p.m., don't you use common sense and say, have a snack at home before hand to hold yourself over and them eat a later dinner...or another snack when you get home?  Is that so awful?

Guess what?  If they are stupid enough not to know to fuel their body before the big game, maybe they shouldn't be playing in the first place.

And, before you get started, this is not one of those situations where....this might be the only good meal these kids get in a just isn't.

Again, I must say.....why?  Why are we taking every little inconvenience out of our children's lives?  And, in the process of that, completely inconveniencing ourselves!  Ridiculous.  But, somehow, I seem to be the only parent who thinks this way.  Or, perhaps the only one stupid enough to put it in print and publicize it.

I think we are doing a huge disservice to our kids.  They need to figure out to do little things like, do their homework and plan ahead to complete assignments.  They need to figure out how and when they are going to feed themselves, when necessary.  They even need to know how to do their own laundry, fill out their taxes and that things like car insurance and cell phones cost a lot of money.

You know what else costs money?  Food.