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Archive for September, 2013|Monthly archive page

(Too) Great of Expectations: Do we expect too much from marriage?

In Uncategorized on September 29, 2013 at 1:04 am

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Ah Marriage. The divorce rate is up. The institution of marriage as we know it, has been troubled for quite some time. This isn’t shocking news, but I have been doing thinking and talking to folks about marriages–both good and bad, and I can’t help but wonder to myself, “Maybe we simply expect too much.”

We grow up thinking about marriage–I didn’t but most of my friends did–and to some extent, I feel we have all bought into this idea that marriage is love and romance. That it’s passion and joy. Marriage is supposed to be love at its peak performance: the ultimate love and devotion to the one person you’re absolutely sure you know is the one for you.

Then, 50% or so figure out that hey, maybe this person isn’t for me.

Maybe it’s because we are thinking about this marriage thing all wrong.

This guy thinks we are.

I feel that to some extent, I am guilty as charged. I’m a very passionate and sprightly person. I like romance and surprises maybe a little more than the rest of the population. Yet marriage is rarely romance or surprise. It can be utterly monotonous and predictable. If it’s not to at least some extent, you might just be married to someone with bi-polar disorder, and in that case, I hope you are incredibly patient and understanding. Or a psychiatrist.

Note: I know folks who are bi-polar and just fine, but an unmedicated bipolar person might just ruin you.

Just my two cents.

Maybe our expectations when walking down that aisle of dreams is paved with a bunch of shit that simply lowers our real resistance to what every day marriage is really like. We expect romance, love, commitment, and unwavering devotion, but the fact is many marriages will be tested in every single one of those aspects. If your marriage has always been awesome from the get-go, either you are delusional or incredibly lucky and deserve a talk-show explaining said phenomena.

This isn’t to say that marriage is a mistake, although it can be.

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This is to say that marriage is not what we were sold. That story is unlike the one you will be facing each day as a married person. You can ask yourself every deep question in the book pre-marriage like, “Can I tolerate his nose hairs?” “Can we agree on religious practices?” ‘Is it okay if we still have threesomes?” “Will her mother always hate me?” “What is the meaning of life and can I find out for just 9.99?”

Even if you get all the right answers. Yes, you guys can pick up 18 year-old chicks at bars still and No, her mother will like you, (such lies) it will be unlike what you had really expected. This is what I feel is a huge factor in divorce. We look through the lens of marriage at the beginning in a rose-colored shade that doesn’t help us for when we put on the glasses and find out, damn, things don’t always look so sexy.

So in response to this disconnect between real-life marriage and the fantasy bullshit your religion/family/friends/media told you so you would stay monogamous and not be a male whore, I have a great suggestion.

Want to get married? Are you thinking of popping the question?

Well, then I suggest you hunker down for one married couple for a year. This can’t be a newly-wed couple though. They’re still looking through pink shades. You need a couple post 5 years, with at least one kid. Spend a year with them. Sit in their bedroom closet. Go into their master bathroom. Listen to their conversations and fights. Watch their bank accounts. Watch the sex.

Does this look like what you imagined it to be? Did you expect fights over a purchase of Starbucks? Did you expect 1950’s-esque arguments over women and men’s roles in the kitchen? Did you expect the sex could be at times, boring?

Now, can you sign yourself up for the possibility that five years after walking down that aisle of clouds, you will be arguing over money, parenting, sex, household chores, and that time you told your father-in-law to fuck off?

Does marriage look so wonderful now?

Sure, you will see all the good things. The comfort of knowing one person. Family life. (Not to say that all marrieds need kids–that’s a personal choice and I respect all!) Having someone fold your hole-y sweaters and buy you new socks when the old ones become extremely ghetto.

There are good things too, but can you as a whole, encompass it all with that one person?

If you’re a method actor, a genius, person of incredible mental strength, etc, try chaining yourself to the one half of the married couple for 1/2 of the year, and the other person for the other 1/2. Really experience the fights! The orgasms (hopefully!) Feel the love during heated arguments when the nastiest shit ever is spewed that you wouldn’t even say to Hitler.

Get the full monty of marriage. And then ask yourself: are my expectations appropriate? Do I know what it takes to really be married?

If you answer yes, then good luck my friend! Remember, it does work out too. The other 50% are happily married…or at least happily masturbating while claiming joint taxes.

-Toodles and Kisses

A new Birth: Birthing me

In life, Uncategorized, woman, writing on September 19, 2013 at 1:32 am

This year I was supposed to be the proud owner of two kids.

Guess what? I wasn’t.

We did not have a baby again, in March of 2013.

Our only kid was born in March of ’11.

It sucked, basically. Roughest time, and it really showed which family and friends were there for us. Isn’t it funny how some family members can be the crappiest during the roughest time of our lives?

I digress.

Anywhoo, I blogged about this loss, and while this was easily one of the roughest years in my life, something big came of it all.

I birthed me.

Cue the new age music. Cue the Yanni. Break out the Dr. Phil and Oprah.

When you have a baby, your personality and goals can really be shoved by the way side because let’s face it, the kid’s needs are way more important, and hell, you’ve got a lot to figure out now that you’re a mom. You and Dad or you and your partner need to figure out the rigmarole of a new life. It’s stressful, however joyful it may be.

And no one can express to you how hard it will be, but it is.

I endured 3 sick pregnancies– January 2010 to August 2012, and so my goals and life were drastically different from when I had first graduated Columbia.

This year, as sad as it has been, has also brought me many great things.

A new job–a real job, one I like and can learn a lot from.

An almost finished memoir. I give myself until November for it to be done.

My comedy act is on the stage again.

I’m freelancing.

I see friends.

I decided that if I wanted to be happy, I had to do everything in my own power to make myself happy. I couldn’t wait for it to come to me. I couldn’t let life’s stressors and disappointments keep me from moving ahead. I had to move ahead no matter what was put in my path. No matter who deserted me or supported me. No matter what fell my way.

If I want happiness and some semblance of a life, I have to make that happen.

And I am.

And this is a major thing.

It is hard because I am juggling a lot, and I am missing out too,. Making one choice means eliminating another choice, and that is never easy, but it is life.

As alone as I have felt this year, I am not alone because I have myself. I am stronger than I give myself credit for, and more capable too.

I only wish I could remember this.

I feel it’s a flawless female socialized gene to doubt ourselves or feel bad for what we want.

I know that this year is already onto greater things, even if it means I am one year older and one step closer to Botox. PS. having a cute dermatologist doesn’t help the matter.

I just have to remember to keep moving ahead for happiness, even when things are low. My daughter stands to gain so much from a mother who always moves ahead with her head held high, and the rewards from my good choices will float on down to her, the most important person in my life.

 

See? I learned all that without any self-help books, Dr. Phil, Dr. Oz, or psychotherapy (although I am a believer in therapy).

This message was brought to you by the tiniest dose of self-esteem, and ice cream cake, dairy’s answer to anti-depressants.

Cheers!

Mom at Work: The Disappearing Mother

In parenthood, work on September 19, 2013 at 1:18 am

Today is my birthday.

Do you know what my best present was?

I didn’t get many, but my best present was seeing my daughter.

My best present was putting her to bed. Bathing her.

Eating some cake with her.

See, I’m a working mom now with a long commute. So I feel as if I am slowly disappearing from her life.

I’ve never dropped her off at school. I’ve never picked her up.

I’ve met her teachers all but one, (there are 3) once.

She tells me stories of kids whose faces I don’t know.

She has a day that I know little about.

I know this is bound to be for every parent, but it is hard being Mom at work.

Being Mom far away at work.

Does my 2 year-old think I love her less?

Does she remember when we were home together?

Does she think of me when she is hurt at school or tired?

Do I register on her mind?

Am I doing the right thing?

Mom at work has to be everything: good employee, great mom, multitasker, and police.

Making sure everyone else who is taking care of her is doing his or her job since you can’t be there to do it yourself.

Hopefully one day my daughter will say, “My mom is a successful woman. And heck, she is a good mom too.”

Just wish it were easier.

For now, I will look forward to bathtime and bedtime, the weekends, and the five minutes I see her before I go off to work. Maybe it’s not the quantity, but truly the quality we spend with our kids that matters. I try to remind myself of that.

Be good to yourselves Mommies at Work.

The 4 Real Stages of the Crazy Woman, I mean, Menstrual Cycle; Be afraid. Be Very Afraid!

In humor, sex, woman on September 13, 2013 at 2:23 am

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Look, there are plenty of sane women. There are also women who don’t PMS. Women who do charity work. Who wear chastity belts.

Who are saints.

Then there are the rest of us.

And since women are crazy because men are sometimes, ahem, stupid, I thought I would delineate the stages of the menstrual cycle for the lazyman, I mean, the layman.

#1 All is well

Let’s call this day 1 of the cycle. Period is done.

The woman is happy. Her vagina is free of tampons, and her crotch is free of maxi pads. There’s nothing going down down there, and praise be! That’s all we ask. A  little peace and quiet in the netherlands of our “netherlands.”

Our skin is clear. Our boobs aren’t sore. And we haven’t ate everyone out of the house or held up a CVS or Duane Reade at gunpoint for Peanut Butter cups.

Not yet at least.

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Excuse me. I think I just had an orgasm. What was I saying?

Oh yeah. stage #2

#2 High-energy

Right before ovulation, things start to get cooking. We’re peppy, and hey guys, we even like you. We might ask you to go steady, or to fu*k off, but chances are we will be nice if we tell you to go south. We exercise, command attention, and are super-efficient. Life is better than good–it’s awesome.

#3 A Love Bomb is about to Drop

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This is right at ovulation or a 1-3 days before.

We. Are. Horny. Very.

This is the time to make babies, or make peace, depending on bad you pissed off your lady. This is the peak opportune time to ask her to do something naughty in bed.

Some women may speak in tongues during orgasms. Others may just simply make you agree to spend loads of money you didn’t really want to, but you don’t care. You got some. We like you. We want you around, and we make your life easy.

Our skin may break out–damn, that sucks—but otherwise, we are symptom free, minus a few cramps indicating that “Damn son, an egg is about to drop!”

If you don’t want a baby, watch out!

#4 Run For Cover, or Prepare for potential Death

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This is right before our period…the stage called PMS, and the actual PERIOD. Yup, blood and all.

We become bloated. Some of us have sore boobs. We may cramp. We may break out as if we are a goddamned teenager again. We may eat you out of the house. We may decide to hold up 7-11 for a slushie and a chocolate bar, forgetting we’ve got the cash to pay for it in our wallets. Besides, we didn’t ask to go through this. Nature gave us this crap. We deserve whatever we want.

Men, you will do EVERYTHING wrong, unless you aren’t stupid, and we will hate your clothes, words, face, soul, job, mother, and heart.

We will cry when you forget the DVR the Golden GIrls because don’t you know it, it was the episode in which Sophia was in the hospital. Damn you!

We will get mad when you forget (see a theme here?) what our confirmation/Hebrew name is! You terrible pathetic jerkoff! How dare you forget my confirmation name that goes like: Mary Margaret Theresa Marie.

How dare you get it in the wrong order?

Watch as your precious items are burned.

Football, unless she’s a fan, will be banned.

If you even whisper, “Touchdown,” prepare for your death.

Right until when it is all over, and we’re back to stage 1.

The impressions in this blog are of the author, a sane and smart woman. Well, one of those is true.

If you are an angel all month long, please ignore this.

If you love getting your period, screw you.

If you don’t understand this is humor, you are stupid.

Love,

Me

**images by Photobucket

Mom At Work: the 2nd generation of working moms

In parenthood on September 11, 2013 at 2:21 am

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I recently went back to work. I like my job a lot. I work with smart, nice, and hard-working people. I enjoy using my writing skills, and the office environment is positive. I hunted for a job for a long time, and I was thinking I was this close to becoming a mail-order girlfriend for some guy in a foreign country when voila, a job came along. Finally.

Yet going back to work is not without its costs, but what can I do? Money doesn’t grow on trees like every parent from the beginning of time has told us.

My mom stayed at home until I was of kindergarten age. When she went back, I was not happy. I hated the fact that she worked at night. At least I saw her, but not for too long. She worked a graveyard shift, and so I remember on Hannukkah opening gifts and then leaving a thank you note for her to read when she got home. It felt sad doing that.

The first time I really angry about her being gone was when my 1st grade class had a dinosaur contest and she couldn’t make it.

That morning, she handed me a little brown felt teddy bear pin with a black bow. He was adorable, but I hated him with a passion.

“Stupid Bear,” I thought, knowing that no bear could take the place of seeing your parent’s face in a crowd full of nameless faces as you sing awesome songs about TRex and Brontosaurus.

I especially hated going to babysitters’ homes, although they were all pretty nice. I especially liked one woman who had  a quiet home and two sons my age. Still, I couldn’t wait to get home and be in my house, with my things. It annoyed me.

Now, the shoe is on the other foot. My kid is 2.5 in just a few days. She’s younger than I was when my mom first left me, so in some ways it means she will get used to it, but on the other hand, she’s too young to complain to me like I did to my mom.

My industry is rather far from my home, so I have to make quite a trek to get to work, at least until we move.

Both Grandparents and Dad helps with the pick-up and drop-off at school. Montessori was the program we chose, and so far, we are all happy. It’s just not the same though. It’s not the same hearing about your child’s day from other people. I feel cheated knowing that everyone is getting so much time with her, yet I am not. And on the weekends and evenings when I am not home as late, I eat up the minutes I have with her.

Walking through the bus station today, I saw a little girl that reminded me of her, and I felt like I could cry.

Being a mom is crappier than the books make it out to be sometimes.

If you are working, you are missing your child, and feeling as if you’re not the best worker because you may have to leave early to get your kid. Or maybe you’re on the phone with daycare or the school about your child. Maybe you are worried he or she is sick.

When you are home, you are so happy, and try not to think of work, but that can be tough.

When I was little, many moms worked, but a lot stayed at home as well. For my daughter, the tables have turned. Many moms are working as compared to staying home.

I just feel as if working has made me a “mom on the sidelines,” and the worst aspect is relinquishing control to people who may mean 100% well, but just aren’t you.

I know Dads are awesome, but the title of Mom is one that’s earned through pregnancy and beyond.

I feel as if I should always be there, and not that I cannot always be there, somehow I have decided that this means I am less worthy of a mom.

That I am failing in some ways.

Yet work brings such satisfaction and money, that I know these things are pivotal for me, and in turn, my kid. I’m a role model, yet I wish there was a better way to balance things, as so many of us moms do.

I remember the crazy feeling I would sometimes get as a SAHM, and it truly can be emotionally draining and lonely, but man, SAHM cherish the time with your kids while you have them. Soon enough, you will be getting reports on your child’s daily life from a teacher, stranger, or family member, and while it’s great for my kid to be socialized, have a village of people around her, and learn at school, it feels as if I am slowly saying goodbye before I am ready.

I guess that’s what being a parent is though: slowly saying goodbye while teaching our kids to be independent

Signs You Have Lowered Your Standards: The Low Self-Esteem Meter

In Uncategorized on September 2, 2013 at 3:06 am

Have you recently suffered a negative interaction with someone?

Have you recently stuck your head into an oven because you couldn’t stand one more minute dealing with people who suck?

Have you considered becoming a meth dealer and taking over the world, a la Walter White?

Are you unsure if you are settling for the same old BS that you swore you wouldn’t settle for anymore?

If you answered yes to any of these questions or you just simply want to amuse yourself or are incredibly bored, read on.

If someone is nice to you and you think, “Wow, this person is nice to me today. this is awesome,” 

You may have lowered your standards.

Severely.

Unless the person is your boss, no one should be that negative and mean to you so that when the person actually smiles or acts like a decent human being you feel the need to rejoice.

Sometimes it is hard to separate oneself from another person’s toxicity or moods, but if someone makes you feel bad or like you want to eat a box of nails when you are around her or him, it is time to say “au revoir douchebag.”

If you find yourself making excuses for someone all the time…

You are either a parent in public with your child…or putting up with too much bullshit from a jerk who needs to be kicked to the curb or taken out of your life.

People make excuses because they’re either too ashamed to tell the truth or they’re not ready to admit it…and when we make excuses for others, it’s for the same reasons. If you find yourself excusing someone constantly for his or her shit behavior, then it is time to evaluate if you really need someone in your life or not.

if you feel dirty after an interaction with someone…

You either just rolled in mud, are a pervert, or really need to cut that person out of your life. You should never roll around with pigs or hang out with people that don’t share the same morals and values as you because you don’t want to be in jail bending over for the rest of your life, do you?

if you feel insecure around someone..

You either need to work on yourself, or get away from that person. No one should make you feel so flawed that you can’t formulate a sentence or feel so fragile around them that you panic.

We aren’t made to be alone. We are pack creatures, but if you keep choosing jerk-offs to join your pack then like weak animals, you too will croak. Life is too short to be around people who don’t value us, and as much as we are all flawed and bad people at times, no one should be around someone that makes them feel worthless.

This therapy session brought to you by chocolate.