Where Are the Pictures?

It was a tough call. I knew I would eventually do it. I just didn't know when. But, last week I shared my blog with DH (who from here forward shall be known as "Burly Surf Dude" (BSD) since he thinks that's just the coolest nickname ever). 

My goal was to get a few more posts under my belt before sharing it with him, but I was too excited (and nervous) to wait any longer. Here's how it went down.

"I started a blog."

"Really? I want to start a blog! What's it about?" he asked. "Being a mom?" (Of course, what else would he think?)

"Ummm....kind of." 

"What's it called?" he continued.

"What Am I Going to Be When I Grow Up?" I replied. He looked at me quizzically, and asked, "Wait. Is this about the girls?"

"No. It's about me."

"But, you're already a grown up... and you are somebody. You're Mom." (yup, yup...) "Can I read it? Hey, am I in it?" (isn't it great to have such a high opinion of yourself?)

"Yes and yes," I conceded. 

That night, BSD sat at the computer in the kitchen and pulled up my blog. "Where are the pictures?" he asked. Oh, brother! Maybe I shouldn't have told him about this after all!

He read my first three entries as I anxiously cleaned the sink nearby. He was very quiet. At one point though, he actually laughed out loud. Yeah! I thought. I made him laugh. I asked what part he was reading. It was the part about HIM not being afraid to tell anyone who will listen about his ideas. Figures.

When he was finished, he came over, gave me a great big hug, kissed the top of my head and said, "I love your brain!" Ok, you're a pretty wonderful guy. Definitely a keeper. It also doesn't hurt that you think I'm so smart simply because I can spell.

Since that day, BSD has faithfully been checking my blog for new entries. (Why wouldn't he? It's nice to be the center of attention, isn't it?) He is asking me to add more posts. This is good. He's keeping me accountable and motivated.  

In all fairness, his question, "Where are the pictures?" is a good one. I recently read somewhere that pictures are a good tool for blogs. They help the reader by giving the eye a bit of breathing room. Hopefully, BSD is not the only one interested in hearing what I have to say. If anyone else is reading, I'd love to hear your comments.

And, for my visual learner...here's a little eye candy. Trick or Treat?


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An Unexpected Side Effect

Wow! Now that I've started this blog my thoughts are spinning and bouncing around in my head like pinballs.  I am constantly thinking about what I'm going to post next. It's exciting and exhilarating, but also a little stressful. I think I'm putting too much pressure on myself to relate every single post directly to my blog title. I may need to add a subtitle to free myself a bit. Instead of trying on a new dress every time, I may need to just window shop a bit in between, or maybe I'll purge some of the dresses that I know will never fit. Some days may I ask you to just join me for a drink and some idle chat?

On the upside is the positive effect this blog has had on my running. Even just saying that "I run" is a big step forward. For years, I've walked. Walking has always been good to me. It's kept me sane and fairly fit.

I've been walking since I had my first child almost 10 years ago. At first it was a way to calm her down when she was crying. I'd strap her in her stroller and just walk until she calmed down or fell asleep. Then the walk became something more for my benefit than hers. We moved on to the sore back stage. If you've ever walked with a toddler in a stroller you'll recognize this phase. This is where you can barely stand up straight when you're done because you've been hunched over the whole time reading stories and retrieving toys thrown overboard. My walking has been my constant companion through two young children. They have both outgrown the stroller, but I have not outgrown my walks.

For a while now, I've been running a portion of my route. I walk the first half and run the second. Slowly, I've worked my way up to running more than walking, yet I still say, "I'm going for a walk." It seemed pretentious to say, "I'm going for a run." when I barely run 3 miles. It feels like I'm cheating on a good friend to call it a run instead of a walk.

Since starting this blog, I have noticed that the running portion has become easier. My thoughts have taken over so that I no longer dwell on how much farther I have to go. My mind is now running alongside my legs instead of against them. I've started increasing my distance, but oddly enough, my time is not increasing with it. I think my manic thoughts are the reason. They are like the wind at my back pushing me forward.

In the end, if this blog doesn't answer the question of what I should be when I grow up at least the experience will have made me stronger. And if I do wind up finding the right dress after all, my legs should be looking pretty darn good once I finally walk out the door in it!

Mean Ass Woman

Most husbands have pet names for their wives. A private little nickname chosen especially for their beloveds. Names like Sweetheart or Dear or even Babe. Those little terms of endearments that make you smile knowing that you are someone special and loved. So what does it say about me when my husband has taken to lovingly calling me Mean Ass Woman?

It sounds terrible, doesn't it? But you know what? I am a Mean Ass Woman. I like to argue. I like to be right. I don't care about wiping the floor with you in a tennis match or any other test of physical prowess. I don't even want to keep score. But, tell me I'm wrong about something and the gloves are on. I have to win. I have to drop you to the mat until the ref counts to three...or is it eight?

If I try to apply this character trait (or flaw, depending on how you look at it) to a career, the one that immediately springs to mind jumping up and down waving it's arms yelling, "Pick me! Over here!" is a lawyer. In my case, it should probably be a personal injury lawyer. Aren't those the ones with nicknames like Mean Ass Woman? At this point in my life, I really don't see myself going to law school though. I don't feel the passion stirring within when I try that dress on. It's too tight and confining. Maybe it's the shoulder pads.

I never thought about this before, but maybe something like a debate coach would be more my style. Pathetically, I don't even know what the requirements are to become a debate coach. Are debate teams even in fashion anymore or have they gone away along with bobby socks and poodle skirts? Hmm...it's something I'll have to Google. All I know is I can't continue to be just Mean Ass Woman. If you abbreviate that, I'm back to being M.A.W. which is too close to Mom for comfort.

What Am I Afraid Of?

What am I afraid of? If I could answer that question, I would probably be doing something with my life already. I am a dreamer, but I'm not a risk taker.

I have always thought of myself as practical. Thinking about it, that may be my code word for fear of failure. I will have an idea, but I won't follow through on it because I can come up with a million reasons why it's not going to work. I keep these ideas to myself. I then talk myself out of them. I don't share them with others. I'm afraid people will think my ideas are silly.

My husband, on the other hand, is my complete opposite. It's probably why I was attracted to him in the first place. That old saying, "Opposites attract" is definitely true. He will have an idea and just start moving forward with it. He'll tell anyone who will listen about his idea. It doesn't matter what they think. It truly amazes me. He wanted to build surfboards so he taught himself how, built himself a shop and now makes surfboards. Where does that fearlessness come from? Have I had it too easy? Is overcoming adversity the key to success?

If you don't know me, you may be thinking I'm a pathetic soul with no self esteem. Not so. I am strong and confident. I feel good about myself. I am happy. I just feel like I've lost a part of me over the years since I've had kids. It's not necessarily related to the lack of a real job either. There are many people who don't work that I admire and respect. Self worth is not wrapped up in how much money I make. I just want to be interesting again. I want to go to a party and feel like I have something to contribute to the conversation beyond how many times I drove carpool this week.  I want an identity beyond "Mom".

In search of the perfect fit....

I caved. I've started a blog. Still refuse to join Facebook though. I must draw the cyber line somewhere. Besides, I'm trying to move forward, not back. Isn't Facebook all about reconnecting with old friends? I do enough online socializing. I need to use the computer for something else for a change.

I started this blog because I need to figure out what I'm going to do with my life. I used to teach. Way back when. I had a title back then. I had a purpose. I was good. I was tough. I worked my ass off 24/7, 365 days a year in overcrowded classrooms. My students' SAT scores improved each year. I was innovative. My colleagues and principal loved me. I had no kids at the time so I had no idea what it was like to raise a child; to love a child unconditionally. I was lacking a key ingredient. I don't think you can be exceptional if you don't have kids of your own. You can't relate to parents as a parent when you don't have children. A big piece of the pie is missing if you can't relate to your students' parents. Being a parent should be a requirement before you get your teaching certificate. I know many teachers will disagree with me, but that's because you're not a parent.

People ask me all the time if I will go back into the classroom. No, I won't. I have kids now so, according to myself, the potential for greatness is there. It seems like the easy answer. Go back to what you know. But, I just don't have it in me anymore. That dress doesn't fit anymore. I need a new one. If you looked in my closet, you'd probably disagree, but you'd also see a lot of dresses with the tags still attached. Those are the dresses I've been afraid to wear out in public. I love them, but I don't have the guts to walk out the door in them. This blog is going to be my virtual dressing room. I'm going to try on these different dresses to figure out which one fits. I wonder if the right dress is already in my closet or if I'll have to go shopping. Shopping....now that is something I know a lot about. Can I teach people about shopping?!??