Married, not dead.

You are right.  You are married, not dead.  Absolutely.  Look to your little heart's content.  Visually appreciate every scintillating inch of flesh that struts past.  Drink it all in with eyes that match the sky.  Really.  There's no harm in looking.  And, you didn't turn in your 20/20 at the end of the aisle.  You weren't required to sacrifice your perfect vision at the altar.  You are married.  Not dead.

Know what is dead, though?  Your right to pursue other women.  Yes, you traded in each and every opportunity you could have had when you chose the one you married.  You sacrificed the freedom of choice when you CHOSE.

So, if you want to watch me from across the room... cool, but stay over there.  Don't sidle up and introduce yourself with a smile designed to make panties drop.  You want to talk to me?  Cool; but, somewhere in the first three sentences, you have to use the words "my wife".  You want to ask for my number so we can "get together"?  Cool, but unless you're planning on inviting me over for brunch with the wife, save your cell plan minutes.  And, if you want to start something you already know you cannot finish...cool.  I can do the same thing at the most inopportune time you can imagine.

I am not the married man whisperer.

Not only can I not help you get over whatever you deem to be a problem in your marriage, I don't want to.  You don't want to be married?   Fine - do her a favor and leave her.  You don't want to be faithful?  Fine - do her a favor and let her know you've decided she isn't enough for you anymore.  You just want to see what I would be like?  I don't blame you, so here's my advice:  Do yourself a favor - grab a tissue and let your imagination soar.  Because I'm not interested in being anyone's other anything.

Marriage isn't the death of a man.  It's just the death of the single man.  You still get to do all the things you did when you were dating, you just only get to do them with your wife.  Not the next hot thing that crosses your path.

And, hey, you still get to have other women in your life.  You can have all the friends your marriage can handle.  Some of my favorite people are married men.  We joke and talk and text and support each other.  The line is quite clearly defined, though.  They don't touch, flirt, ogle or in any way disrespect the women they chose to marry.  No, this has nothing to do with being friends.  This is about dating.  

I am not suggesting it isn't possible for married men and single women to be friends.  I am saying it isn't possible for married men to date. Not to date me, at least. 

One more thing, if you're not going to wear a ring, than you must start each and every initial conversation with, "My wife would..."  An example:  "My wife would kill me if she knew I walked over here, smiled, flirted in a seemingly genuine way, asked for your number, then was completely surprised that you're not a complete idiot and you do your homework - thus discovering that she exists."  This way, the woman who was minding her own business before you sauntered over would be aware that your sparkle comes dredged in bullshit.

Bottom line:  You will get caught - if not by the woman at home, than by the woman with Internet access and the experience to know better.

Listen

You know that voice in your head?  The one that says, "turn left here...I know you usually turn right, but not this time."  The one that says, "no, don't speed though this light, wait."  The voice that says, "I know this is different, but go with it."

Listen to that voice.

Maybe you'll miss a terrible collision.  Maybe you won't get the next speeding ticket.  Maybe you'll meet someone who will change your life.  Hell, maybe you just won't be rushed to get where you don't want to be anyway.  It doesn't matter.  Just listen.

Because, maybe something will happen.

I've had a lot of instances when I wondered if it was coincidence or if the universe was guiding me to small moments.  

This evening, I turned around when I normally would've gone the long way home.  I sat at a light for what felt like forever when normally I would've already been in my driveway.  I had my windows down even though it was way past the temperature that usually has me face first in the air conditioner vents. And someone I thought I would never see again drove right back into my life.  If I had done any one of the "normal" things, I wouldn't be grinning right now.  If I had ignored the voice that gave me directions, he would still be in the past.

So, listen.  Turn left.  Slow down.  Go with it.

Maybe it won't save your life, but it just might turn your evening around.

Confidence or vanity

Conversation between Sofia and Maya last night during pick up time:

"Maya, you have to help pick up too!  You're just sitting there!  The sun doesn't shine on only you, ya know!"

"Yes, it does.  See....my skin is darker than yours....so the sun shines on me more."

From the other room, I smiled.  Half a second later, I cringed.

Because, see, Miss Maya does believe the world revolves around her - and not just in that general way every kid thinks it.  She genuinely believes she is (or should be) the center of everyone's universe.  And, I worry that I'm not doing enough to curb that misconception.

Are some kids just born with insanely large egos?  Maya is stunningly gorgeous, smart, hilarious, and caring.  But I try not to over-emphasize any of those traits.  Specifically, lately, I find myself not telling her how pretty she is because I don't want her to lean on that.  I know too many girls who grew up only being "the pretty one".  Know what happens?  They become really ugly on the inside.  I imagine that, if all you hear your whole life is how beautiful your packaging is, you think having beauty on the inside is irrelevant.

So, I don't tell Maya every day how her face stops me in my tracks whenever she rounds the corner.  Instead, I tell her how impressed I am that she got all of her spelling words right.  I no longer point out how most people wish they had skin like hers.  But I give out high-fives galore for reading a book from cover to cover.  Yet she still begs me to take a picture of her whenever she strikes a pose.  And, she seems completely flabbergasted that someone wouldn't compliment her on each new outfit.

My youngest child truly seems to have been born with an ego too big for her tiny neck to hold up.  And, I worry she'll become one of those girls that no one likes - not because she's too beautiful, but because she knows she is.

"Maya, that's ridiculous.  The sun revolves around the earth.  Not you."

"I know that, Sofia.  You're not the only smart one.  I'm just saying it likes me better cuz you're so mean."

"Whatever.  Just pick up or I'm telling mama."

The room never did get picked up, by the way.  Sofia gave up, Eva fell asleep, and Maya had to read me one more book... About a fancy girl no one understood.

2,116

I'm convinced the universe gives us school mornings to make it easier to leave our kids with strangers for the majority of the day.  Why else would we have to wake up long before the sun, place plates of hot, healthy breakfast in front of cranky, half asleep kids, pry open jaws to force in a toothbrush, spend twenty minutes getting their braid exactly the way they want it, search through disorganized drawers to find matching socks, run back into the house to get the calculator they forgot they have to have, and wait in the world's stupidest daily traffic jam five days a week?  Seriously, if not for the dramatic lessons in self control, I would probably home school.  Well...maybe not, but if I did, lessons would definitely start after 10.

Anyway, this was a typical morning.  By the time I got Maya to release my hand, I was free.  I practically ran to my car.  (I say practically because there was an abnormal amount of hot dads at the school this morning, and one cannot simply rush past such views, but that's a story for another day).  I leisurely strolled the aisles at the grocery store and blared the stereo in my car for the first Monday this school year.

Then, while putting away the groceries, I found Eva's retainer case.  Uh oh.  She has been so excited that she doesn't have to wear it all day since school started.  Unfortunately, she's still used to leaving her retainer in, so she must have forgotten to take it out this morning.  It hurt my heart that she was missing out on her little reprieve from the appliance.  So, while my pie shell was firming in the refrigerator, I walked the case up to the school for her.

Eva always has a million questions.  A million.  Before noon.  I love her, but really.  Enough with the questions.  But, as I was walking the case up to her, I thought about some of her more frequent questions.  The one that I've heard the most is "How far is it from our house to the school?".  I've already told her how long it takes me to run there.  Today, I timed the walk.  29 minutes.  On the way back, I counted the steps 2,116.  When I got home, I counted the blisters.  2.  Because that's too far to walk in cheap flip flops.  I can also tell her it's far enough to get stopped by two different guys who know me despite the fact that I've never seen them before in my life.  It is the right amount of distance to allow too many thoughts to drift in and out of my short term memory.  And it's far enough that, at 88 degrees, I was smelling less than fresh by the time I got home.  Most importantly, though, the distance from our door to the elementary school is exactly far enough to remember why I'm so lucky to be able to do silly things like count the steps between us.

2,116.  Close enough to walk but far enough that I can still miss them by 3:25 pm.

I don't get it..and neither does my waistline

How can I be a size 2-4 in my closet, but a size 10-12 in the mirror, and a size busted can-o biscuits in the shower?

I don't get it.

I haven't owned a full length mirror since I once saw a picture of me from the back, and I don't miss it.  In my bathroom, I have a mirror big enough to make sure I got the toothpaste off my mouth. If I want to know if my shoes match my outfit, I ask my six year old... Who usually reminds me that my outfit isn't cute enough to worry about coordinating, but that's beside the point.

Unfortunately, my shower has been broken for a couple of months and I haven't found anyone to fix it for free yet.  So, I've been using the girls' shower.  Usually, of course, it's 4:30 in the morning, I'm half asleep and have no contacts in. The perfect way to be naked, in my opinion.  Since they started school, though, I can go back to taking runs in the morning.  Which means taking showers afterward.  Which means, bright light, wide awake, 20/20 vision.  This morning, I ran my quick 5 miles, stripped naked in the laundry room and paraded through the empty house to get cleaned up.  All while being very careful to not look down, of course.  Then, I opened the shower curtain to step out and gasped.... Straight into the giant mirror looking back at me.  Well, maybe it isn't giant; but, it's definitely wide angle.

And all I could think was, "that can't be right".  That's not what the tag of my jeans that require a belt to hold up says.  That's not what my wrists that are smaller than my 9 year old's say.  That's not what that idiot yelled out the car at me.  That's not why I do more than 400 squats a day.  That's not why I haven't finished a cupcake in 7 years.  And, where the heck is my towel so I can cover that up?!

So, I don't get it.  How can my waistline change so drastically from one room to the other?  And, why can't I just live in my closet where I'm oblivious to it all?

First Day of School 2013

It's here again... the first day of school madness.  Am I happy?  Am I sad?  Am I ready?  Oh yeah, are they happy/sad/ready?  I always think I'll know how we'll do.  Then the middle of August sneaks up on us, and suddenly we're pulling back into the crazy station.  In so many ways, this day surprises us all.  And, in others it feels like we just did all of this yesterday.

 The notes were written.

The lunches packed.

Backpacks loaded.

Look out 7th grade.



 

 Ready to take on 4th grade.

 All ready to show 1st grade how it's done.

I woke up at 1:45 this morning.  Eva got her stress sores in her mouth.  Maya got up at 2 am and struggled falling back to sleep.  Sofia slept too late to get in her morning shower.  So, yeah, this morning wasn't exactly the ideal conditions to start the school year off right.  But we persevered.  We sat in the drop off line at the middle school for a stupid amount of time, as usual.  And, Sofia hopped right out ready to go.  As soon as we got out at the elementary school, however, my little go-getter turned into a no-thanks-let's-go-back-home-r.  I had hoped this year would be the year she didn't cling to me, but she was very hesitant again.  So, I stayed to get her settled before wandering down to check on Eva.  Of course, she was busy at her desk; so, a quick wave was all she needed from me.

Then, I was free.  I saw a friend on the way out of the school building who asked "What are you going to do today?" wink wink.  "Wouldn't you like to know?"  wink wink

Know what I did?

I stalked recess.  Yep.  I stood outside the fence and waited for my baby to come out to play.  She was still struggling and came right over to hold my hand through the barrier and beg me to take her home.  She broke my heart with her big tears.  I did the brave mama dance, though.  ok... I bribed her a little.  I promised her a prize if she went and played with her friends.  Hey...I know her currency.

And, now I sit in a quiet house again.  I have orders to fill and I should be working on those.  I'll turn on the music and get to the job at hand in a minute.  After I finish staring at the pictures of the faces I've been waiting all summer to send back to school.  I miss them already and can't wait to pick them back up in a couple of hours.  Then... about six minutes later if history is any indication.... I'll be ready to take them back to school.

Relationship advice to the girls. Part X

I bet you're wondering why I think I'm qualified to give you this advice.  I imagine you've read through this series and thought "what the hell does she know about a successful relationship?".  As much as I would like to believe that, by the time you need these tips, I will have gotten it right - history shows me that I probably won't.  So, here's why I hope you listen to me...

I have made every mistake.  I have chosen every wrong path.  I have been every don't.  And, I don't want you to feel the way I do.  I want to have made those errors on your behalf.  I want to believe that I went ahead of you and laid down all the Caution!, Do Not Enters! and Crime Scene tapes.  

I want you to be hopeful.  I want you to believe.  I want you to love.

I want you to choose what happens to you.  So, choose someone who makes you happy.  *you don't have to swing from chandeliers, but light up the room in your own way*

Choose the one you catch watching from across the room with a quiet smile.  *unless you've already taken out a restraining order against him.*  

Choose someone who makes you laugh.  *especially one who makes you laugh at yourself*  

Choose someone because your best friend approves.  *not the slutty friend who uses you to hold her purse, the true friend who tells you the truth.  She can see things in you that you can't and she will only approve of the man who is good for you*  

Choose someone who challenges you.  *you don't have to win every fight to win every fight*

And, know when to let go.  I never found out if you just know when you've met the right one, but I am completely sure that you just know when to let go.  Don't wait or barter or excuse.  It doesn't get better with time.  Beginnings are the fun, exciting part.  Middles are where the love comes (or doesn't). But the ends are where the most hard fought lessons are learned.  Don't be afraid of that.

Finally, make some mistakes.  Some of the best times I've had started as huge errors in judgement.  Most of the people who effected me the most came into my life at surprising, inopportune, or dark times.  And, while I may not like the scars, I don't regret the experiences.  Mistakes don't define you - thank goodness.

Relationship advice.  Believe.  Love.  Try.  As many times as it takes.

I love you all.