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!