Life is Short and So Am I

So within the last month, I've lost a family member, had a coworker (okay my favorite and best friend of a coworker) leave for greener pastures, and found out another coworker is terminally ill. So this could get heavy.

My family member and I, I can't pretend we were super close. In fact, we'd become estranged. He was an amazingly free spirit and the world is far darker without him. And now we just have some shirts, some movies, a coffee table, a toy and some kitchenware to remember him by. Life is completely unappreciated, and it's not something you just "get over and move on" from. 

The coworker, definitely a great stride in leaving. The decision was best and all that's left is happiness. But things have been quiet and rough without the company. You don't realize how much you depend on someone until they aren't there. And I'm one of those people who gets completely terrified at the feeling of needing someone.  We still keep in touch but I feel completely left behind. And in some ways, that's what I need. I need to move on. But sometimes it's just nice to feel important to someone, which I cherish knowing that I matter to someone not legally bound to me by paper or chromosome.

This other coworker: I won't pretend we had more than the, "Hi, how are you, beautiful weather," conversation but I truly respected this guy and thought it was so nice for him to go out of his way to be polite. When you work in a man's world, you're often overlooked as a female and this gentleman was indeed that by definition. And he disappeared. Now I don't nose around asking if he got fired. Another friend told me he was diagnosed with terminal brain cancer and had six months to live without treatment at just 57 years old.

So of course I'm having that life affirming, mid life crisis: What the fuck am I doing?

I wasted countless hours combing pinterest for inspirational everything. Friends who knew I was in a funk offered kind words. Here is my summation, and if you know me at all, it won't be a short as I am.

I've made some shitty choices. I've hurt as many people as I've been hurt by. I enjoy a good cry mourning over all of these things. I still miss the one that broke my heart and always will. If I didn't have my husband, my life would be vacant in every way. There are so many different kinds of friends, you really have to hold on to the ones who don't break you on a daily basis.

You can apologize as much as you want for your mistakes, and it's almost impossible to just forget, but if people can't let go of the past, or at least learn from it, then you can't fix anything. No one is perfect, least of all the ones who look the best on Facebook. There is no secret to life. You live and you die. Try to live the best you can.

I have anxiety and serious bouts of depression. My mother thinks I make these things up. My husband thinks I'm overdramatic, and I only have one friend who completely understands me. I feel lonely a lot. Everything is fleeting. Capture as many moments as you can as quickly as you can. 

And I think the biggest thing I need to say in this moment: My biggest regrets in my 30 years are all of the things I've never said. Not the things you should never say out loud, but the things that I've need to say FOR ME. Selfish? Absolutely. But I intend to speak up. I'm small, I'm short, but I'm seriously loud. And because we really have such numbered days on this planet, I won't stop running my mouth until my time has run out! 

You've been warned!

The One Who Never Was

You know those guys we idolized in late middle school and high school? The ones who grow from cute to handsome and sweet to heartbreakers in the span of a summer? We've all had one. They are the ultimate crush. Maybe you never had the courage to even speak to them. Maybe you were the brace-faced girl in the friend zone. Maybe he went for football and you went into drama and your worlds could not collide.

Every girl has had one of these. Mine was my friend since about 4th grade and he always got back at the boys who did me wrong but never tried to do so much as even hold my hand. He was...and still is adorable and crush-worthy. We stayed friends in high school but he was the guy who was "too cool" for sports, dances and social events. Such a rebel, eh? We exchanged glances and simplistic conversations but we never really flirted much. 

When my parents split up and I moved out of state to be with my mom, I never got a real goodbye with him. I always regretted that. My BFF told me he'd ask about me from time to time but this was just before the dawn of Myspace and Facebook so if you didn't have an AIM chat, you had nothing. When Facebook did become a must I instantly found him. He'd stayed in the same town, and became devastatingly handsome. When he accepted my friend request I had just gotten married and moved to a new state.

We didn't talk much. More of a "Hi, hello, how are ya?" I still visited my hometown often so there was always that "Let's grab a drink," vague invitation from time to time. I never thought much of anything. I was very happily married. Occasionally my mind wandered down the "what if," "maybe," and "should have" area but other than that, nothing.

A few years ago when I'd also found the power of Instagram he saw pictures of a trip home and mentioned my parents. He'd remembered my mom and dad throwing various events, birthday parties, Halloween parties, chaparoning  dances. I was still working off the baby weight and not remotely confident. He was engaged to be married the following year. We'd missed an opportunity and said a "Maybe, next summer, " and that was it.

About 8 months later, he messaged me on Facebook and asked when we'd be in town. He asked how I was and we had a full on conversation. We talked about my job, the kiddo, his work, his fiance, the upcoming wedding and the normal stuff. Then he told me he'd had a crush on me in high school. Butterflies. This is 16 years later and this guy says, "I was into you," and it's like being fourteen and getting a Valentine from him.

It was nice to know. He asked if we could meet up and I didn't think anything of it. I jumped at the chance. I could apologize for not saying a better goodbye and get some closure. I could see him in person and we could catch up. My first suggestion was meeting up at the park so he could meet my daughter and husband, and I could meet his fiance. He told me she traveled for work a lot and he wasn't kid friendly. He asked if just I could get away for dinner or a drink.

Now the circumstances under which my parents divorced were very vague for anyone not in our family. And I felt like I should explain to him, given our elementary school friendship. I told him I'd let my husband know and we could plan. I hate Facebook messenger so I gave him my number so he could text.

After a few days, the text messages became rather flirtacious. And at first, it's flattering and you feel like it's a compliment but then I realized that I was being a little naive. It dawned on me that I was his mid-life-almost-thirty-about-to-get-married crisis. He came to me to escape his immediate reality. 

I kind of swept it all under the rug and just kept things under wraps because I wanted to see him. My parents divorced really messed up my teen years beyond normal stresses (that'll be a book one day, trust me!). I needed this...vindication, or a chance to just talk to someone about what happened. We kept planning to meet and talking and then a month before I was scheduled to arrive in my home town and a few weeks after he and his new wife tied the knot, he disappeared.

He blocked me and my BFF on Facebook and Instagram and stopped texting me. And then I got mad. This dreamboat, this heartthrob and the crush of my childhood turned into a slimy, skeezy guy! I knew I wouldn't see him when we visited and after a few days of feeling completely rejected I realized this was for the best. Maybe I would have seen him and gotten into an uncomfortable situation. What if I was keeping it casual and he grazed my leg or something. That is how affairs start in the movies. I could've ended up a Lifetime special. 

Then I started whirling around all of this scenarios and I said, "But I'd never cheat on my husband! We have a kid! He's my person! My one love!" And then I realized that it wasn't about my marriage. It was about his. He was projecting all of his insecurities and issues making me think I'd asked for this, I condoned being treated like someone you can just have at your disposal. In a passive way, I did just watch it all happen.

I wanted to believe in the romance of the crush. I wanted the fantasy. You build these people up in your minds and they become untouchable. It's horrible when they turn into normal, typical, scum. 

It wasn't until a week before my vacation I heard from him. He pretended to be concerned that he missed his chance. I called him out on blocking me saying that sent a pretty clear message that we weren't going to have any kind of friendship. He blew it off saying he was taking a Facebook hiatus because he used it for work. Well, he lied again. He told me he wanted to meet me. We'd planned to grab a drink.

The day before we were scheduled to meet he text me all day claiming he almost couldn't wait, asking if I could meet him that evening instead but we had plans. The day had finally come and I was a little nervous. I sent him a text and he didn't respond. I didn't stress. It wasn't until right around the time he told me he'd message me to pick a bar that I knew he was blowing me off. I just didn't hear from him. 

It was a big hit to my ego, I won't lie. I'd kind of felt betrayed by my younger self for letting me believe he was someone special all these years. And I was annoyed at myself for being surprised by it all. After I few weeks, I brushed the dust off and rebuilt my self esteem a little. I didn't want to let him weigh on me so much.

It was two months later, after I'd deleted his number and forgotten, assuming that he'd never text me again, that he text me on a random Friday morning. My BFF told me to keep my guard up and not let him in. I kind of just thought it was funny. I called him out on standing me up, and he blew it off. This would be the norm. And then I thought, well I can play the game and see how long the charade lasts, read the fake promises that we'll see each other and let him think I'll just be around always. Or, I can tell him it's not okay.

When you get those text messages, those ones that just make you smile and cringe at the same time, you have great plans on what you'd like to say. Women could write books on the conversations they've strategically planned in their minds that never come to fruition. So when his intro back into my life was "I had a dream about you, and I missed you," I wanted to text back:

"Well, you can keep dreaming. I've always missed you and I just wanted to talk to you about something important to me, not fantasize about what we never had and what will never happen. I really wanted to see you and you blew me off. So hold on to those dreams of me. You're going to miss me for a long time."

But instead, I just kind of responded to everything politely and laughed. We see all these lives via Facebook: The vacations, the engagements, the new pets, the births, these happy moments. Not in any of those pictures would I guess he was a scumbag looking for an escape from his new wife. And I just felt bad. I felt bad for his new wife, because if he was coming on to me via text, even in non-"sexting" ways, who knows what else he was up to. I felt bad for him, feeling like he couldn't just be grateful for what he had. And I felt great. Because as much as I complained, as bad as things have been in the past...I didn't have room for this kind of bullshit in my life. And he did. 

Grateful Expectations

Expectations can be the root of all evil. The moment you start expecting anyone to act a certain way or respond in a specific fashion, you're ultimately doomed. In a way, expectations are just routine reactions. You expect a thank you when you give someone something, especially a gift. You expect a compliment if you've noticeably changed anything about your appearance or "dressed up." You expect pizza to be delivered within the time frame quoted. You expect to get bills.
 
When you're expecting a child you pretty much know that baby is coming out of you and then you have to care for him or her. And then there are the unexpected things in life: The rude comments, the lack of appreciation, the car accident or break down, the job loss or change, the winning of the lottery. It's a mixed bag; a Forrest Gump box of chocolates if you will.
 
Some expectations are great, and others I've found can be down right detrimental. I always get uneasy when someone is nice to me because if I get used to it, that's when tension arises. When a friend offers to buy you lunch, it's a great unexpected thing. When you expect to get said lunch regularly, you'll probably just end up hangry. It's a shot for disappointment.
 
If you make a grand gesture you often expect a grand "Thank you." Now, I come from a line of ladies who are all plans, no action. We're over-educated, under-achievers. We have great plans and ideas and nothing every comes from it but daydreaming. We are so damn good at daydreaming. I could daydream anyone under the table! But when I get all fantastical in that female mind of mine, things get out of hand. So, when I go out of my way to do something great and I just get a, "I really appreciate that," you feel a little let down.
 
Now I've already come to terms with the fact that life is not a "Glee" episode, so there will be no breaking out into song to sing my praises, but we often just expect more. And that's a kind of false advertising. Maybe it's a female thing because we envision every situation and idealize it in ways that no one could ever live up to that expectation. It's like a kid at Christmas; you picture them loving these gifts you (not Santa!) hand picked for them and then they fixate on the one thing they didn't receive. And it's not because they are horrible children or bratty, they just dreamt about Christmas morning and those things they wanted or expected so much that not finding it feels, crippling.
 
It's all such a ridiculous song and dance but it's what we do. Simple solution: No expectations. Easier said than done. Especially in overthinking, overreacting, female world. As someone riddled with anxiety and serious bouts of depression, these expectations are especially painful. Perfect examples are usually found in marriage. I asked my husband to unpack the rest of the house after we moved. I was doing an obstacle race and I found a free sitter and he'd have nothing to stop him. When I got home, all muddy and exhausted, I was extremely disappointed to see boxes and almost more of a mess than I'd left. My expectations were so high! I envisioned a perfectly put together and unpacked home. It was not that at all. He made progress, definitely but I just hid in the shower for an hour trying not to overreact to my ridiculous Martha Stewart Home living magazine ideal and realized we had some work to do.
 
It's important to dial down the expectations. Because they can hurt ourselves and each other. Great expectations are great, but it's important to keep it realistic and stay GRATEFUL. It's so easy to get caught up in what we don't have, we forget to appreciate what we do. And that needs to be in EVERYTHING and EVERYONE. Don't chastise a friend for not getting you what you expected, be excited that they celebrated the being that is you, in a different way. That ridiculous song, "Don't Worry, Be Happy," it has some merit. I expect the expectations to be attainable. Say that 5 times fast and you're on the right track.

Moms Can Be Whores Too

Motherhood can do different things to every woman. My personal experience, I felt a little...less than fresh and gorgeous. You bloat and you wear stretchy pants so long carrying a human, you don't exactly feel like you're glowing. And often that "glow" is sweat anyway. I'd never felt such closeness to wild animals as after I had a natural birth. It's beautiful and gross all at once. And then you're left with a baby and you never have a moment to yourself. The end. Actually, it's just the beginning.

It took me a year to allow myself to take better care of me and not just the kid. Getting back into a workout was anything but easy. When I'd settled into the idea that instead of ever being a "MILF" to anyone but my husband who is legally bound to think that, I started wearing "mom appropriate" clothing.

No more band shirts that said "fuck you," or had weird, jarring images. No more, slightly tight clothing that may catch someone's eye. And now that I had epic cleavage, after breastfeeding, I totally didn't want to draw attention to the stretch marks on those things. I was the biggest I'd ever been when I started and it took me a year to take it off comfortably.

When you start feeling comfortable in your own skin, you start wanting to show it. With the new workout routine, came a new job where I was allowed to leave the house. Getting out of the house without kid prints was another story. I first shopped at Goodwill, determined that I would not waste money on clothes that would strictly get me through the in between times. But the more I lost, the more I wanted to look nice. And I could do that at work.

Here's the catch: I work in a male dominated environment. Mostly older, married guys who made nasty jokes. None of them acted inappropriately towards me, but when I got shapely enough to put on the skirts and dresses (all appropriate length I might add!), they noticed. And not in a bad way. These guys would comment "New clothes?," "Oh that's nice," "That's a good color on you!" Only a few made the sarcastic, rude comments that were essentially just playful. And I don't get easily offended, I have a thick skin and most importantly, I LOVE MY JOB!

With new clothes and lesser weight comes more confidence. And this is when things can get out of hand. Prepared to be shocked:
I made friends with a male coworker! OH MY! Emphasis on friends and co-worker please, readers. We had some stuff in common, we traded who bought lunch, he treated my daughter like a princess when she came to visit and my husband seemed to think it was good I had an ally at work. (Of course he knows my husband!)

However, when you work in an environment where the general age of employee is 39+ it's pretty easy for the older women to start to hate you, whether you instigate it or not. Now, I try to be friendly to everyone but I never go out of my way to be horrible. Apparently I'm just whore-able. See what I did there?

Rumors started about my male cohort and myself. I'd brushed them off until one of the older women started watching my every move one morning and I snapped. All of the sudden I realized I was the homewrecker and the whore of the business. In one way it was flattering to feel that anyone would pay enough attention to me to think I was acting unfavorably. On the other hand, I was insulted that anyone would take the time to believe it. I mean, really?

It was months after I'd gotten over the first "incident" and a few pounds more lost that I actually was cornered and confronted about the alleged affair. Now, I'm a completely sarcastic person, but I was so dumbfounded by the audacity of the accuser, that I couldn't even rattle off all the after-attack comebacks I had found:

"Well, my husband and I are swingers, so that's not cheating."

"Ever hear of spousal swap?"

"Some of us have needs."

The jokes lasted for days. In retrospect, it's not funny at all. I definitely cried over it. To me, it wasn't the whore rumors, it was the fact that both parties in questions had families and they were insulting us both by saying we were up to no good. It breaks my heart that a man and woman cannot be friends. I guess Billy Crystal was right in my fave rom-com, "When Harry Met Sally." On top of it, the industry is small and the last thing I needed was any angry wife stomping into my office calling me a whore. Let's keep that to my coworkers only, please.

As a mother, I never thought I'd be seen as a whore ever again. I thought that was meant for your young and single days and I certainly dressed it in the past. I know there are mothers out there who may in fact be "whores" in some way or another, but I think it's ridiculous that grown ass women resort to such teenage name-calling and rumors. "High School Never Ends," which became my anthem, as sung by Bowling for Soup, throughout all of this is still a part of my current playlist.

I never assumed motherhood would keep me exempt from bigotry and hatred but I thought that was between mothers who judged me for co-sleeping, cloth diapers, and clothing choice type things. I guess I should clarify, and please read this in the tone of Robin Williams impersonating Nixon, "I am not a WHORE" (instead of crook). 

I'm really not involved in anything inappropriate with anyone, for the record.

I went against all initial impulses to be Emma Stone in Easy A and start wearing sweaters with the scarlet letter sewn on them. Instead of acting out in an attempt to make such rumors look ridiculous, I had a good cry and went back to doing my job and kicking ass at it. I commiserated with a lot of friends about this. I truly thought I had some kind of personality or character flaw that made me so...obtuse about life. In some ways I'm still recovering.


But in retrospect Taylor Swift had it right all along: "Haters gonna hate and fakers gonna fake." Moms can be whores, definitely, but I'm not one of those that mixes the two. I'm a family woman, working full time to support her daughter, dog and awesome husband. Just let me be, well, me. I'm a great mess without the rumors anyway!

Cell Phone Detox

Years ago one of my friends used the phrase "Blurse," blessing and a curse, which I use frequently. Cell phone are definitely a Blurse. I heard something on the radio saying we check our phones at least once a minute. I'm totally guilty. Our big splurge after we had our first baby, was a foray into the world of smart phones. 
 
Those things are rad! They have come a long way. You almost don't need computers anymore. But, I'm kind of a cell phone addict, I'll totally admit it. It's definitely information overload. You can get sucked into checking Facebook and Instagram and email and waiting for text messages and sending memes and Pinterest!
 
I'm a text junkie. When you have a toddler who won't let you have phone conversations with out dancing on the dining room table, painting a wall or destroying something, texting is your best friend. "Bring home wine." "Bring home dinner." "What are we doing this weekend?" "Your daughter just ate a pen." These are all part of current parenthood.
 
The APPS! SO MANY APPS! SO LITTLE TIME! Check your bank, check wait times at Disney, make fun of people, find a take out place, get coupons, find a dress, find a friend, take a picture, take a video, it's all a finger flick away! But sometimes you get downright attached and obsessive! "Did it vibrate? I think I felt it vibrate. Did I hear it go off? What notification tone was that? Was that even my phone?" And the worst of the worst: "WHY WON'T YOU TEXT ME BACK!?"
 
All this...stuff just brings out such evil. Maybe it's radiation. Maybe it's just the new age. It's kind of unnerving. And then you meet people who are like, "I never check my phone," and you think, "What do you mean? I don't understand." 
 
We have to detox ourselves from our phones now, the way we do with carbs and junk food. That's kind of pathetic if you think about it. And then the whole thing of instant communication: "Well what if someone needs to get in touch with me?!" Are we all so individually important that we must be reached at any given second? Remember when you had to call the school to give a kid a message about a ride or an emergency? Or call a company phone to get ahold of a significant other? Now you just expect them at your beck and call. It's crazy!
 
Sometimes I just hide it from myself so I can take a break. It's often too much. But this is the universe we live in now. My toddler can navigate things far more easily than I can. She's like a little sponge! I'm not much for tablets and having all kinds of distractions for kiddos outside of movie time but I can see why it's appetizing. Then again, I see those families out to dinner with parents on cell phones and kids playing with tablets and it makes me sad. Now my family may be around the television constantly for lazy times at home but we can hold a conversation at least. Now it's all, "Did you see that Facebook post?" "Did you see that selfie?" "What about that Groupon?"
 
I've had to dial it down, pun intended. As much as I love my Spotify, Facebook, Pinterest and texting, sometimes you need to breathe! It's not always easy because you get used to the luxury but I'm finding it's worth it to not have a cell phone as an extra appendage!