My two cents on...deleting my two cents

For those of you who actually read my dribble drabble, you may notice a post was recently deleted regarding a certain...ahem...game.

Let me explain:

A way for me to get out my irritation sometimes is through my writing, and when I wrote that, I was clearly irritated.  If you know me, you know I'm sarcastic and snide and usually make callous remarks under my breath when I'm trying to be half annoyed and half funny.  Well, turns out, that doesn't come off so well in writing.  As much as I was trying to be humorous and make (sort of) light of a subject that had been bothering me, I ended up throwing Hubs under the bus.  Not a great idea.

Even though I still hate the Xbox, well...maybe she's growing on me a little, and I definitely hate that stupid game, I decided (with some gentle nudging from Hubs) to remove said post due to its clear resentful and angry tone.  I've saved it on my computer just in case I need it for blackmailing purposes in the future, but for now, it has disappeared!  Hubs is in the other room now playing, and I'm loving him anyway, and you are benefiting by getting to read this nonsense!  Aren't you lucky?! 

My two cents on...marriage (part one)

I say part one because I will probably have some more cents, or even sense, about marriage at some point in the future.  Who knows, I may even end up with a marriage (part 473) some day.  If only I could be that lucky.


Marriage is a funny thing.  There are many married people who walk this planet, but it seems not many of them are happily married.  Not many could write a book about marriage, or even a sentence.  Many will, sadly, end up divorcing and then will look back on their marriage 10 years down the road and wonder what exactly went wrong in the first place.  I will tell you what I know today about marriage.  It's not that much...but I'll tell you anyway.


First off, marriage is a full-time job.  Anyone who tells you otherwise is full of crap and is either divorced, has never been married, or secretly hates his/her spouse.  When I say full-time, I don't just mean full-time as in a work week's amount of time.  No, 40 hours a week, with holidays and weekends off isn't going to cut it honey, sorry.  Full-time, as in, 24 hours a day, seven days a week, 365 days a year, and even a little extra on holidays.  Forever.  If that doesn't sound like something you'd love to sign up for, don't get married.  If you're already married, but they never told you that at the Clerk's window when you were acquiring your marriage license, I'm sorry but it's too late to turn back now.  Unless of course you'd like to read my blog on divorce, which I'll be writing soon (not in relation to my current, blissfully happy marriage).  Full-time boys and girls.  Got that?


Now, on to the nitty gritty.  Marriage is never 50-50.  Everyone says it is, but it actually isn't.  It's okay though, because it's not supposed to be.  Someone will always be giving a little more than they're taking or using a little more than they're dishing out, but that's why you're married.  You're each other's back up, so that when you need a little extra, your spouse is there to kick it in.  If you were always concerned with everything being 50-50, you'd be in the category above, on the road to divorce, talking about what you're doing on your weekends off from your marriage.  I will edit this statement by saying that a marriage should never stay unequally balanced though.  You should fluctuate back and forth.  Like a pendulum.  Sometimes it's daily, sometimes it's yearly, or anywhere in between.  I am currently having a bit of a needy year myself.  My loving husband is being a true gentleman to oblige.  I think I'll keep him around a while.


Next, your problems are his problems and his problems are your problems, and her problems are their problems and the dog's problems are everyone's problems.  Confused?  When you're married, what bothers you, bothers your spouse and vice versa.  That's understandable.  You share close quarters, you talk regularly (or you should be), you genuinely care about each other, etc.  So why wouldn't your problems be shared evenly among you both?  What no one really thinks through too clearly is how everyone else ties in to these shared problems.  If your problems are his problems, and you tell them to your mom, now his problems are your mom's problems and she already knows way too much about what goes on in your marriage for her or your own good.  What's shared between a husband and wife should stay there.  No one else needs to be involved in the issues that go on in your marriage, because no one will ever know the full scope of your marriage to begin with, so what part do they have to play in it anyway?  If you need someone to just listen to you, call a completely unbiased 3rd party like a psychiatrist or church pastor.  If you want to discuss the issue itself with someone who you need help from, talk to your spouse.  It's their problem too!


Speaking of talking...I know, I know.  I'm gonna say it, I'm so cliche: Communication is the key!  If you can't communicate your marriage will end and it will be ugly.  And then what makes you think your divorce will be roses if you can't communicate in your marriage?  I hate to break it to you, but there's a hell of a lot of communication that goes on in the breaking up of a marriage too.  What's the secret?  I have no idea.  I'll let you know when I figure it out.  Maybe that'll be in (part 473).  Really, what I do know is that you can always start over the next day, or even the next minute.  Stop yourself and say, "this is going nowhere, can we start again"?  Easier said than done.  My communication tactics are a little less subtle and usually end in some sort of dish in the trash in pieces, but I'm a work in progress.  Never give up.  Also, people communicate in many different ways.  Some people like to sit and talk immediately when a conflict arises.  Some need time to cool off before opening their mouths or else something really bad will come out (me).  Some people just don't like to talk at all and trying to get them to is like trying to shuck an oyster.  If you can figure out what your spouse's communication style is, and try to adapt to it, you're way ahead of the game.  Then there are the annoying little "rules" of communicating.  You know, like; don't sit and play on the computer/text/talk on the phone/clip your toenails/watch tv/jump rope while I'm trying to talk to you rule, or the don't interrupt me before I've even completed a sentence rule.  If you and your spouse can figure out what those rules for you are in advance, again, way ahead of the game.  Gold stars for you!


I'm going to make this one short and sweet.  No one wants to talk about "cheating".  No one wants to approach the definition because everyone thinks everyone else has a different definition and they're scared to death of what the other person's is.  I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but if this isn't something you hammered out before you got married, your spouse could be cheating on you right now, by your definition, and they don't even know it.  Hubs and I's definition: Cheating is ANYTHING you wouldn't do or say with your spouse sitting right next to you.  Easy enough, feel free to steal it.


"I love you" never goes out of style.  Unlike those jeans you're holding on to that you keep shoving in the back of your drawer, hoping one day you'll fit into again, only to find out that high waisted acid wash is just not as flattering as it once was.  "I love you" is the perpetual black.  It goes with everything.  It can be dressed up for a night out or dressed down with some sweats for a snuggly movie night on the couch.  No one is ever going to look at someone who says "I love you" and say, "oh my gosh, that is so last season"!  It comes with some extra special, magical healing properties those new shoes didn't come with either.  Somehow, even on your worst day, when you hear it, you instantly feel better.  It can be given as a gift for a special occasion, wrapped in beautiful paper and ribbon, or it can be given as a daily affirmation, casually rolled off the tongue in passing.  "I love you" is the number one thing you can give your spouse to show them how much they mean to you.  Don't take these three tiny words for granted.  They are truly an amazing outfit to put on.


Whether you've been married 5 minutes or 50 years, your marriage should be just as important to you today as it was the moment you said those vows.  It takes two people to be happily married, and the world says it's easy to leave if you're not happy.  The world says happiness should look like the couple in the movies, and if it doesn't it's okay to run.  Happiness is what you and your spouse find in each other when you block out the world, give each other your full-time support and attention, and put on your very best "I love you" outfit every day.      

My two cents on...mini van driving Catholic school moms:

Remember yesterday how I said I may offend someone?  Let the offending commence...


I'm Catholic.  I'm a mom.  I drive a, well not a mini van, but close enough.  But I am not the topic of this blog.  The topic of this blog is the self righteous, holier-than-thou, "I donate 1/4 of my husband's salary (which is still more than I could make in a lifetime) to the school, so I'm somehow better than you" moms who are Catholic and drive mini vans.  Brand new mini vans with the little people stickers on the back to be exact.  The ones that cut you off in front of the school and then when you honk at them to let them know you exist, they cut you off in the car line and almost run your kid over just to prove to you how much better they are than you.


Here's the deal, I grew up poor.  I went to Catholic school because I was the type of kid who would have ended up on the pole if I had attended public school, if you know what I mean.  I just didn't have the attention span, common sense or leadership skills necessary to make it in today's (or 15 years ago's) public school system.  I'm sorry, it's terribly flawed, but that's for another blog.  My parents didn't have the money, but somehow I made it 3rd-5th grade, 8th grade and all of high school in Catholic school.  My mom has many flaws, but a mini van driving, pompous snob she is not, so I never grew up with this type of modeled behavior.  She worked many long hours away from home, so I did not grow up with the Betty Crocker stay at home mom, award-winning pie baking, apron wearing picture of perfection, mother of the year.  I've often felt resentful of her for that until I became a mother myself and realized what a train wreck I was, in fact, not missing out on.


The Noise attends Catholic school because, well, we're Catholic.  I've often wondered how these moms do it.  How they are so put together.  Their outfits always match, and their hair is always so perfect.  They always wear the expensive makeup, you can tell.  I go in to drop her off and realize I'm wearing the sweatpants I slept in, a T-shirt with baby puke on it, and shoes with no socks.  I have no makeup on and my hair is in the same wet bun from the day before.  I always get the same scoffs from the mini van drivers, and it takes everything in me not to want to tell them to meet me in the parking lot in five minutes.


Maybe I have better things to do, but getting dolled up to drop my kids off isn't my idea of a priority.  Does it mean I love my daughter any less if I accidentally wear my shirt backwards when I walk her in?  I hope not.  I feel less resentful now of my own mother, because I don't want to be that Betty Crocker mom.  She seems pretty closely related to these mini van drivers, and I really don't like them or their stupid stickers!  I'm a stay at home mom now.  I have a part time gig that I do from home, and I try to dabble in other means to bring in some income, but my main career is to care for my kids.  Most of the "drivers" I've come in close proximity to have also been stay at home moms, with more than one child.  So how do they do it?  How do they have all that time to match the perfect pair of designer jeans with that designer tee?  How do they have the time to make sure they make their every six week hair appointment, and fix their hair daily?  How do they have the time to apply that MAC makeup in their 5x magnifying mirror, while inspecting their perfectly minimized pores and wrinkle-free skin?  And most importantly, how in the world do they fit in all that nasty behavior into their day if they're spending all their time looking so awesome?  But wait.  What about being a mom?  When do they find the time to sit on the floor and play with their infant, or get elbow deep in ground beef showing their daughter how to make meatballs?  How much time do they spend sitting at the table reviewing flash cards over and over and over and over because their kid just can't remember what 7x6 is?  How many trips to the craft store do they make the night before a school project is due so their kid can find the "cat sweater for the bunny to wear" in the diorama?  What about watching their baby roll over?  Did they see it? Do they have more hours in their day than me?  Or do I just have a better handle on my priorities?


I'm not really sure if God just gave them a different clock because they dress better, but I guess I'll take what I have and enjoy it.  I love my kids, and I know they love me, no matter how I dress or wear my hair.  I'll probably still continue to curse under my breath at the mini van driving, well dressed, Betty Crockers out there, but I'll try not to think of them as any better than I am just because they have people stickers on their vans.

My two cents on...blogging:

Being as this is my first official blog post, I find it only appropriate to discuss my thoughts on blogging as a whole.


I have never subscribed to the idea of being a "blogger".  First off, I think the word sounds too close to the word booger, but that's for another blog entirely.  More to the point, I have always wanted to write a book, a non-fiction book.  I have had dreams and aspirations of being an established, educated and well-respected author for many years.  In my research on the subject of writing a book, which I may very well blog about at a later date, I sadly came to realize that in order to be seen as an established, educated, well-respected author you have to have previous published works.  What is considered to be an excellent source for saying you have "previous published work"?  You guessed it.  Blogs.  


So I posed this question: What exactly is a blog anyway?  Is it the mindless ramblings of a teenage girl who's supposed to be doing her homework, but is instead writing online about her latest find at the mall?  Could it be the nerdy gibberish of some techy geeks trading stories on how to completely take apart and reassemble the newest electronic devices?  Perhaps it's the sad stories of a lonely military wife, waiting for her soldier to come home, with nothing to keep her company but her keyboard?  Or the endless pages of deals compiled by a team of stay at home moms who want nothing more than to help the rest of the world's moms save $5 on a pack of diapers?  The fact is, all of these are blogs, and pretty good ones I'd imagine.  From what I can see, a blog is an expression of one's need for communication with a world of similarly interested people, in order to gain a common understanding or acceptance.  


I'm blogging so that I can tell you what little I know, or don't know, about whatever it is I seem to be drawn to on any given day.  I have intentionally left a vague hole in my description, because as I've figured out above, I want everyone to consider themselves "similarly interested" in what I have to say.  I'll probably sound stupid sometimes, offend someone, stick my foot in my mouth, make a joke no one laughs at, or ramble on and on about something no one even cares enough to read about, but isn't that what this whole world of blogging is all about?  It gives the writer the ability to spill endlessly until their heart's content, receive feedback from all the faithful readers out there, and then hone their craft to appeal to their target audience.


Ok, fine.  I'm sold.  Blogging, here I come!