March 8, 2012

coming clean ... a little

Me: "Mr. Mullen, remember when you duct taped my side mirror on my old Sundance after I hit that car?"

Mr. Mullen: "Of course."

My mom listened in on this conversation, HORRIFIED. Where were we? Church. For a friend's wedding ceremony. What better a place to come clean about past lies I'd told my mother than a church?

Isn't it funny how after a certain number of years pass we feel it is okay to start leaking the truth to our parents? As a teen I had my share of hidden gems and probably your share and your friends' share as well. I kept them tucked away in my memory and some written in code in my journal. These tales became twisted over the years as my memory isn't what it used to be. I often wonder how honest my truth actually is - am I even remembering it the right way?

I did a lot of foolish things after high school. I was carefree, reckless ... invincible. Or so I thought. I spent a lot of my nights partying. I looked to my friends to be my family. And they were. Or so I thought. My father did a lot of the same things I did so I didn't really think my parents had a case to argue. My mother had never been drunk a day in her life. She lumped pot in with crack and heroin. It was all the same to her. She was nosy and overprotective. Or so I thought. I remember her demanding that I stay home just one night a week - and I refused. WHY would I ever do that? (Now, to get me out of the house on a Saturday night it has to be well worth my while). I did whatever I wanted to do. I stayed out all hours of the night, didn't come home at all a lot of times. How could my parents stop me? They couldn't shackle me up in the cricket playground (cellar). They couldn't take my car from me since I bought it and paid for my insurance. What were their options?

I filled the calendar years with harmless white lies. I figured what they didn't know wouldn't put them in the ground. When the passenger side mirror was hanging from my car I explained to my mother that some cretin must have hit my car in the parking lot while I was working. I think she actually felt bad for me (which kind of breaks my heart) - if she even fell for it. The truth: I had hit a car while backing down a street clumsily and chose to speed away and avoid that street for two weeks. It wasn't until six years had passed that I fessed up - to my mom anyway. (I still feel horrible about the hit and run. Feel free to think even less of me).

Slowly I am fessing up to a lot of the dumb things I did during those years. What made me feel so cool back then makes me feel like a huge asshole now. Funny how that happens, huh?

Becoming a mother has made me aware of sooooooooo many things. I look at the world with different peepers for sure. The mere thought of Scarlett doing to me (and my husband) what I've done to my parents is almost too much to handle. I will deserve every rotten word she says to me and I'll need this post to remind me of why I am being punished after being such a loving and gracious mom.

Sorry, Mom. Those crappy years were just my stepping stones. I needed to treat you like dirt to become a wonderful person I guess. Hehe.

Do you come clean as years pass or are you keeping your secrets forever? 
Has becoming a mother changed the way you look at your own past life?

March 2, 2012

Maybe I should shut up

It is such a humbling experience when you are complaining about the annoyances or the bad luck that seems to be plaguing your life and you are met with tales of actual tragedy, health problems and horror. I find I am constantly reminding myself that It Could Always Be Worse. Maybe our financial situation isn't as desirable as we'd like for it to be. Maybe my dog is a HUGE pain in the ass (as I have even less tolerance for him since having Scarlett). Maybe one of our cars needs repairs, maybe I feel like I don't have enough quality time with my husband, maybe I feel overwhelmed by the amount of friends and family that want to see the baby. Maybe I LOATHE my street and everyone on it. Maybe I should shut up. Maybe I should watch the news and see men, women and children suffering and dying in the streets, no one to care for them. Maybe I should listen to a friend tell me that she recently learned she has cancer. Maybe I should realize that people are being put out of their homes for various reasons every single day. Maybe I should see my friend's heart filled with sadness because her dog is ill.

I'm not an ingrate. I'm not taking things for granted. I'm just guilty of forgetting sometimes. Forgetting that people have it far worse. Forgetting that I could so easily have it far worse.

I am thankful for everything I have. I am so blessed to be married to my soul-mate and to have a beautiful daughter that I couldn't have dreamed to be any more perfect. I'm thankful for the good health of my family. I'm forever indebted to my mother, who has bent over backwards to help me US in every single way she possibly can. I'm thankful for our home, which may come with a ridiculously high mortgage and may not be sitting on the most desirable street in the world but it's OUR home and it's filled with love.

I need to continuously remind myself to make my problems smaller. In the big scheme of things - what's a car repair? What's a barking dog? What's a few credit cards? Nothing. A mere drop in the ol' crap bucket. If you have your health, you have it all, baby. And as long as I have my health I'm going to live happily. So cheers to our years!

March 1, 2012

The Scarlett Letters #2



My dearest Scarlett,

Thank you so much for going to bed at eight o'clock two nights in a row! I have worked for five months to try to get you on this schedule. All of those times you would wake up and I would have to bounce you back to sleep for hours (since you refuse to let me rock you) I never realized it was because you were overtired. I didn't know that I should have just tried putting you down to sleep earlier to benefit us all. How was I to know that you could forgo an entire bottle so easily? A mere two ounces extra in your bottle has allowed you to sleep soundly and not wake forty-five minutes after you fall asleep. The fact that you stay happily in your crib until I come up and get you each morning makes my life a true JOY. You are amazing. People continue to tell me, "just wait" -as though I am to sit and dread some terrible routine that you're going to get into. I refuse to just wait, dwelling on some possible negative scenario around the bend. I enjoy you now. You have slept through the night since you were about eight weeks old and we are so very thankful for that. I don't mind that you don't take more than a couple of catnaps during the day because you give me a full night's sleep which allows me to enjoy you even more. Last night I accomplished a full pedicure and manicure once you drifted off ... and I dedicate them to you. My love, my heart, my moon. I love you more than you will ever truly know. Always, Mama.