recycling

In spite of all that is going on in the world around us, it seems that this is what the media is doing lately…at least when it comes to parenting, marriage and family in the news. The tried and true “Mommy Wars” between SAHM and WOTH moms is recycled and beaten like the proverbial dead horse so they must move on to something “new” like this new-fangled idea called “attachment parenting” and just who is truly “mom enough”…which totally worked and is still working two weeks later.  So now we have everyone getting their panties all bunched up over a survey that reveals that 75% of mothers admit they love their kids more than their spouses. And people are not surprised. Yet some are willing to speak up and admit that, surprise, they love their partners more than the children they share with them.

Sidebar: I love Casey. She is such a lovely person and oh so wise beyond her years. 

But really…this is new…like the concept of attachment parenting?

No, not really.

Seven years ago a mommy shit storm was stirred up thanks to Ayelet Waldman’s New York Times article titled “Truly, Madly, Deeply” and she further explained why her children were not the center of her universe on Oprah just a month later. Women on the show had some very strong, differing opinions as did a lot of other women everywhere. Even I had an opinion back then too.

Ms Waldman further explained this all again when she wrote Bad Mother: A Chronicle of Maternal Crimes, Minor Calamities, And Occasional Moments of Grace where she further explained the fact that she did indeed love her husband more than her children. And again it was like this was a new, awful thing for mommies everywhere to get all bothered over.

And now, three years later, it’s being talked about everywhere again, as if it is something new. The majority of moms I know are jumping on to Team Kids because “husbands come and go” and “our children must be the center of our universes” because “our husbands understand”. Yes, I added my two cents to the discussion siding with Team Husband.

Sorry kids.

Don’t get me wrong here. I desperately adore and love my children…and now my grandchildren. I would totally catch a grenade for you all…and all the other things that Bruno Mars sang about in that song. But the fact of the matter is that none of my wonderful clowns would be here, be in existence were it not for the fact that I truly, madly, deeply loved their father way back when before any of them were thought of or born and now.

Yet another sidebar: Some might question then why even have all of your kids. Someone did and messaged me that very question right after I first hit publish on this particular blog post. Well, I could explain basic biology and sex ed here along with what happens when  birth control fails…then my kids would groan “Gawd! Mom! No!” Then I would remind my children that it takes much more than mom and dad hooking up to make a family and our family is prime example of that (adoption works too). Still it is the truth of Mom and Dad loving each other first why all of you beautiful clowns are here…and how lucky we, Mom and Dad, are that you are here.

And now, after celebrating our 29th wedding anniversary, I am glad that I do work so hard on this love we have shared. Two of our children, our babies, are grown and moved on to their own great adventures including love, marriage, kids (not yet please dear Zoë) and moving even farther away from the Big Top (ahem…Zoë). Abby would LOVE to move out on her own I am sure…and I imagine that she will as soon as she can. Meanwhile Jodie is thisclose to getting her driver’s license and is just two years from graduating from high school with big plans that most likely will take her far from home. At the same time, she and Daniel now have a lot of busy-ness going on in their lives even while they are still but children…teenaged and school-aged. All this happening under and around the Big Top finds my darling husband with more time alone together than in a very, very long time where it is just us.

Thank goodness we have worked hard…very hard to put each other and our marriage first. yes, some days it was hard to put it all first…really, really hard…no, really…so very hard. Some days while in the trenches of baby poop, diapers, potty training, unimaginable loss, homework, after school activities, sibling fights, exhausting teen-aged drama, health crises, financial stresses and woes and all the other stuff that is being parents it would have been very easy to just put one another and our relationship in an old cardboard box in a dusty corner. It would have been very easy. We both would have understood because we both desperately love our children. Perhaps we would be able to find it later too…behind all the useless junk that we save and pile up because we might need it someday or we can sell later on Craigslist. We would have had a lot of support from a lot of other parents too…you know, the GOOD parents…the really good parents who have done the same thing…some of whom are still together…for the kids.

But I’m glad that we didn’t. It has not always been easy to not put the marriage and us aside in favor of the kids. But I’m glad that both of us stuck as best as we could to the heavy lifting and hard work that is absolutely necessary for cultivating a great love. I look at our kids, one by one, stepping out on their own and I am so glad that we didn’t. I find myself alone with just Bill some evenings as the kids still living here under the Big Top have better things to do than hang out with Mom and Dad and I am really, really glad that we didn’t.

I see comments like this

My parents said they loved each other more (we asked :) ). I always felt so safe and secure knowing that they loved each other so much. Their strong marriage has been an example for me. I never ever doubted their love for me, and really did feel so secure knowing that they were a team. They were truly two become one.

and I am even more glad that we didn’t.

To my kids, my wonderful, amazing children and grandchildren whom I would do anything in my human power for because I love you so much, I am so glad that I love your Daddy and your Papa more because, yes, I did and do…not only for me and for him but for all of you too…I love you all that much…just in case you ever wonder.

because I know EVERYONE wants to hear about my colonoscopy…

Yeah.

I know you all do.

The prep…it was everything I imagined…and more…so much more that I could have never imagined. I do see very clearly why my doctor told me not to leave the house during prep day. Honey, I barely left a small part of the Big Top…except to drink that PEG prep liquid every 15 minutes seventeen times.

Thank goodness vodka is a clear liquid!

No, really. It is.

Between my, er, colon cleansing, my VERY empty, hungry belly, my nerves over the test the next morning and the volume of my clowns slumber, it was a long night…a very long night.

I DID voluntarily sign up for this. In all seriousness, I did because it is recommended for someone my age. Happy 50th birthday to me!

Morning came soon enough and after a stop at the donut shop for Jodie and dropping her off at school, my darling husband drove me to the hospital…loudly slurping his coffee. When you’ve been on a clear liquid diet since Monday night and NPO since Tuesday night you don’t enjoy hearing people slurp their coffee or stopping for donuts on the way to the hospital. Just sayin’. Yeah, I was grumpy. I make no excuses for that and my clowns know me too well to pretty much expect nothing less.

Soon enough I was in pre-op getting prepped in a pretty, pretty hospital gown with slippers just like the ones I wore when I had meningococcal meningitis. Hind sight is always 20/20 and I immediately saw that I should have got myself an Annie & Isabel creation for this adventure of mine…I mean it was a birthday gift to me. Next time.

As my nurse quickly slipped in an IV into my right hand, she told me how she and her husband actually had colonoscopies together…um, okay. I doubt my darling husband and I could have survived the prep together…even in a 3 bath Big Top.

With the IV running it was off to the OR where a lovely nurse and friendly anesthesiologist were waiting for me…and Dr. T. … I hope. Here is where I confess about the breakdown I had when I was 9 years old being prepped for eye surgery because the surgeon wasn’t in the OR and I was afraid the OR staff was going to start without him. I didn’t melt down this time.

The nurse got me, er, in the right position while the anesthesiologist questioned me about my latex allergy and the fact that I do live dangerously eating avocados…hey, I do have an Epi-pen. He injects a dose of versed followed by a dose of fentanyl and the next thing I remember…

Well, the next thing I remember is Zoë sitting next to me…HOURS later. Boy did she pick a great day to come home and bring her laundry for a visit! The rest of the day, and even parts of the evening that followed I can’t recall. Not at all.

Apparently I did have a conversation with my doctor after the procedure where he told me he saw a relatively healthy colon and the hemorrhoids I affectionately named Holly, Zoë, Abigael and Jodie. Hurray for a healthy colon! I also managed to get up and get myself dressed and into a wheelchair which is how my darling husband found me when he was called back to claim me. We stopped at Jack In The Box on the way home…to celebrate my healthy colon no doubt…and I ate something that had bacon in it. I do remember the bacon. Everything else, well, everything else is a lovely, fuzzy, cotton-y versed and fentanyl blur. If you really wonder what it is all about read Dave Barry’s account because it pretty much sums it up…at least what I can remember of it.

In all seriousness, I survived a relatively easy procedure… if you forgive the colon cleanse, the bruise left from the IV site, the gas that is passed and the versed-fentanyl haze that lasted the rest of the day. The good news is I received a healthy report and I don’t have to do that again in ten years or so.

all in all she’s just another Brick

In the news in the interwebs, we are to feel sorry for poor Samantha Brick.

Really.

I mean look at her.

She’s beautiful…at least she declares that she is. She adds that it is so hard for someone as beautiful as she is. Pilots send flight attendants to offer her bottles of champagne. Bartenders won’t accept her credit card to settle her bar tab. Women hate her. Her female friends especially hate her and don’t trust her because she might steal their men away from them. Her female bosses dislike her and pass her over because she is younger and prettier than they are and because they won’t succumb to her flirtatious wiles.

SIGH!

Oh Samantha!

You are pretty enough. You have a lovely figure clearly because you exercise regularly and don’t drink and never eat chocolate.

(?)

Truly you are blessed….even if you are deprived of the blessed heavenly goodness that is chocolate. But Samantha, while you might be a lovely woman, you are not beautiful. Sorry.

You see what makes a woman beautiful is not her perfect, blonde hair or her slim figure or the fashionable way she dresses and no, not even the confidence she has in her gorgeous out-ward beauty.

No. Not at all.

Dear Samantha, yes the outward package is a part of it and so is the confidence one carries oneself with; but that is but a small part of a beautiful person…a truly beautiful person. What makes a person beautiful is their heart and how they share it with those around them…their friends…their family…their lover…their co-workers…the lady at the bank…the pierced-out barista making their mocha frappuccino…the old man who smells in the express lane at the grocery store with obviously more than 15 items.What makes a person beautiful is the beauty all around them that reflects off of their presence.

If you and I were to be standing side by side you might be right in that you are most likely more attractive than me and the fact that I am nearly ten years older than you and I drink wine and LOVE chocolate could very well be why. But I’m okay with that. I might not be as lovely as you (by your definition) but I stand proud in the truth that I am the mother of some wonderfully amazing people whose beauty shines from deep inside their hearts and souls out past the pretty, pretty shells. I made that beauty that graces this world. I nurtured and cultivated it. I can declare that I have added some much needed beauty in this world that is shared every day just by the lovely nature that is my children’s smiles, their hearts, their tender souls. Samantha, lovely Samantha, THAT is just one thing that makes me beautiful…no matter how old I might become.

The beauty of a woman is not in a facial mode but the true beauty in a woman is reflected in her soul. It is the caring that she lovingly gives the passion that she shows. The beauty of a woman grows with the passing years.
~ Audrey Hepburn

daily Fallon #30

Workin’ the tummy time and checking my look in the mirror.

Uh-oh…

Uh, Mi-ma…a little help here?

Seriously, Mi-ma. There is going to come that day where you’re going to need me to wipe YOUR chin and you know what? I’m not going to do it!

Don’t even play that “I wipe your butt” card either.

so many

Overheard under the Big Top tonight…

Zoë: Oh my god! So many candles!!!

Twenty.

There are only twenty candles on this cake. It doesn’t even come close to the bonfire on my birthday cake last year. Still it does create a pretty bright glow that one can warm their hands with, doesn’t it?

It was so good to have Zoë and Josh home for her birthday this weekend…so very good indeed.