Saturday, September 22, 2012

Girlfriends, Coffee, Pee Pants and Bail Money

Well, another crazy week has passed.  I sit here on this Saturday morning with a cup of coffee by my side...and with mixed emotions, I admit to you that it is Pumpkin Spice.  I am struggling with the thought of welcoming Fall, as Spring/Summer are surely my favorite seasons.  I resigned myself to getting a darker color on my toes this week during a MUCH needed pedicure. So needed, in fact, that I apologized in advance to the girl for the condition of my feet.
I'm dipping the teensy weensy tips of my toes into Fall, one Pumpkin Spice latte at a time.  Sigh.

What made this week special, though, was something that has had my mind reeling all morning. A discovery of sorts, I suppose...in the words of C + C Music Factory, they are 'things that make me say 'Hmmmmm.'  Yep.  I just went there.  Now that song's gonna be stuck in your head! 

This week, I've been thinking about friends, and the impact they make on our lives.  The way that a friend understands us better than our spouse, better than our mother, better than we do, really.  It goes without saying that, without friends, life is pretty gray.  Friends are the colors that flood our coloring book sheet.  Without them, it's just black and white.

Friends can tell we are pissy by the look on our face, even when we are trying to suck it up like a Ninja.
Friends can tell we are bloated, even though they may not say it for fear of having their jugular ripped out.
Friends make us laugh even we are so pissed off, dammit, that it is the last thing on our mind and we have already vowed not to laugh for at least 24 hours in protest.
Friends force you to participate in things you really try to weasel your way out of, because they know that once you get there, you will have fun, let your hair down and forget that you were being a big baby.
Friends show up for parties, even when they would rather be at home in bed pigging out watching a movie.
Friends listen to you complain about all the things in your life that aggravate you, and know when it is safe to give advice.  They also know how to see the warning on your forehead, written in invisible ink, that is similar to the Surgeon General's warning on a pack of cigarettes that declares that they best not give advice on this particular subject, as to avoid being pummeled to death with a wine glass in their sleep.  This is an ability that husbands seem to lack.  Sort of like when he shops with you and asks if you are SURE the size in your hand is big enough?  Really?  I'll glue your manparts to your belly button while you sleep, bucko.  Do not EVAAAAR ask me that again!

Friends will announce, at a table full of people, in a public place, that you need to get your hair-did again because they can see your gray.  Those same friends' lives will be spared, rather than drowning them in a margarita with a full audience, because you know they said it with love.  AND, because you know that it's always smarter to do said things in the still of the night with no witnesses.

Friends know that once in a while, when you begin to spurt out words so fast that they are completely incoherent and so high pitched that only dogs can hear them; you just need to go put your feet in some hot water and get your toes did.  And possibly consume some fruit that comes in a bottle with a cork.  You know, to meet your daily quota according to the food triangle.  REALLY good friends have a secret stash set aside in the back of a junk drawer that even their husbands don't know about marked 'Bail Money.'

Yep.  Suffice it to say, friends are very important.  Without friends, it's just you and your spouse staring at each other every day asking, 'So, what do you want to do?'  Ugh.  Poke my eyes out.  And, well, if you don't have a spouse....then it's just you making up voices for your cats and sending birthday cards to people that have been signed with your opposite hand as if the cat signed it.  Yeah, we weren't fooled. We know Fluffy didn't grow an opposable thumb.  Stop playin...

So, be thankful to your friends.  They put up with you when no one else in their right mind would.  They probably drink heavily because of it, but that's beside the point.  They dress up in stupid costumes for you.  They put a stupid hat that looks like a turkey on a platter on their head in the middle of a store because you want to see it.  They go to stores they hate because you have a coupon, they do the YMCA in full drag to entertain you, and they tell you when your eyeliner is smudged so badly that you look like you should be lying on a street corner in a puddle of your own vomit.  They love you even though you are a ridiculous pain in the butt.  In some cases, they sit squished between a sweaty guy who sleeps with his head nestled in his chest like Big Bird and a guy that is so hairy his arms look like they are covered in tarantulas...for hours, on a plane, folded up like a damned origami swan as to avoid getting the Cheese Touch from said men, just to come see you for a while and sit around and read inTouch Magazine and gossip like school girls. 

So, to my girls....you know who you are. 
Some have been faithful to me since high school, sharing my biggest life moments like marriage proposals gone a little awry.  (LOL)  So what if they talked through 3/4 of the prayer before dinner at my wedding reception standing in front of everyone at the head table, not even noticing everyone else had their heads bowed; after flying in for said wedding with a bridesmaid's dress that was hoochie mama short compared to everyone else's...all for me.  :)

Some of you have known me through my darkest hours, and loved me through them.  And even though we may not have always been as close as we should have been, we have redeemed ourselves now.  We have been there through the ups and downs of each other's lives: deaths, divorces, drama and dumb ideas.  All of those things have made us stronger, better people.  We can talk about peeing when we jump and keep a serious face because we pick up what the other is puttin down.  We can speak with funny accents to each other, all day, in public, and not really give a crap if someone looks at us funny.  Now THAT is friendship.

And, some of you...well, I just know that you were sent to be in my life at just the right time.  Somehow, mysteriously, we all came together without noticing and then suddenly BOOM, there we were.  We make each other better by looking like idiots sometimes, but we don't seem to mind.  We cackle with laughter, we embarass ourselves in public and we are better because of it. We love each other despite the miles between us, and we always hold a spot at Zumba for each other, knowing that eventually, we will all be back together again.  We do our best to lessen the distance between us when we are apart, and make the best of our time together when it comes.  We nurse each other through injuries, life-changes and drama.  We love each other through pain and fear, all with a stupid smile on our faces and the occasional ridiculous costume.  The best part is that we don't do it out of obligation...We do it because we WANT to.  THAT is what friends do. 

So, in the words of Donkey....'You gotta have FRIIIIIIIEEEEEENDDDSSSSSSS!' 

You guys ARE the Donkey to my Shrek.  The toppings to my parfait, because EVERYBODY loves parfait!  I love you.  Thanks for making me a better person. 




Sunday, September 9, 2012

Full Plates, Buffet Lines, Holy Crotches and Hot Pink Toes (don't look at me like that!)

Am I the only one that has those times when you have to stop and ask yourself, "Have I lost my damn mind?"
Seriously, do you catch yourself thinking something, pondering something, and then wonder how that even got into your head?  I mean, I have so many things on my plate that sometimes I feel like one of those really big guys that goes to the buffet in the morning for breakfast and then stays for lunch....like, a SUPER big plate.  You know, the guy who still has morsels of the last plate in his scraggly beard as he goes up for the next round.  Ketchup, mustard and mayo packets shoved in the pocket of his sweatpants.  One plate does the trick as he makes his rounds:  Ribs, mashed potatoes, cornbread, creamed corn, a slab of ham, some eggs, and then piled on top of that (because we don't want to burn too many calories making trips to the table) we balance two crab rangoon, 1 slice of bacon (gotta be careful with the 'ole ticker), a cheese danish, three mini frosted donuts and a small bowl of soft-serve ice cream from that scary machine back in the corner where the kids put their fingers in their noses and then up into the nozzle where the ice cream shoots out.  What?  You don't like beef-based gravy on your cheese danish?  It's all goin the same place anyhow, that's HIS motto!

So, lately I've been feeling like THAT guy.  I'm trying to juggle all the different things in my life.  I'm trying to be the awesome mom that goes to lunch with my kid at school.  The mom that has all the laundry nicely folded and the floor vaccuumed with cute little seashell designs in the carpet, just so they can roll around on it and make it look like we own a herd of inside dogs.  I want to be the business owner that is available to answer every call, and the wife that makes the best dinner and leaves the family looking like a 1971 Hamburger Helper commercial where the whole family looks at mom like she saved the day by opening up that box of so-called 'food' and whipped it up with lightning speed.  (I just gagged a little in my mouth, if you were wondering)

We all want to be everything to everyone.  We have all battled with taking time for ourselves, spending $4 on a latte that may just save the day, literally, and getting a pedicure over  buying our 8 year old her 15th pair of 'Ah mah Gaw, mom, these are the cutest things I have evaaaar seen and I just HAAAAAAVE to have them' shoes. 
What we have to realize, though, is that by taking that $4 and buying that latte, we may just make the day go from 'Someone freakin shoot me' to 'Hey, this day ain't half bad!'
By spending that $20 on a pedicure from a guy that may or may not actually talk to you for an hour thru that doctor's mask may be just enough 'me' time to make you WANT to go home and whip up that dinner that normally seems like too much trouble for a Wednesday. 
And, beyond all of that, doing these things, spending an extra 5 minutes or a spare $4 on ourselves once in a while, rather than always on our kids and family, teaches THEM a valuable lesson!  Someday, when our sons are fathers, they will remember how the scary vein in mommy's temple disappeared after she locked herself in the bathroom for a few minutes.  He will remember the Starbucks drive through lane.  The way that, when the car pulled in, it was like 'The Wizard of Oz' up in there, as the atmosphere felt dense with chaos as the car approached the menu.  How he could feel the seat under his tiny butt begin to actually be sucked like a vacuum up to the ceiling, how dust bunnies and crusty Cheerios were slurped out from under the seat by the scary vortex that was forming...and how they began to swirl like a whirlpool with old receipts and all those loose hairs that fall out of mom's hair into the floorboard.  The car would all but shake as they approached, and he could feel himself begin to levetate as he floated up from his seat and the seatbelt held him down.  He will also remember the feeling of calm that suddenly fell as mom crept forward to that little window, and the feeling of peace when she took that first sip.  She never yelled or screamed, but everyone in the car just knew it was 'time'.  The whirlpool stopped, the calm returned, and mom had 5 minutes of Calgon in a cup. 
Yes, he will remember these things.  And, though he did not appreciate WHY they worked when he was a kid, he will identify it all when he sees his own wife become a mother.  He will recall those days when he came in covered in mud and sand on mom's clean floors, and how he laughed on the inside because it seemed to be no big deal...and he will begin to appreciate the restraint it took for her to not beat the living crap out of him.  He will see these things in the eyes of his wife, and he will have a different seat in the theater for this portion of the show.  He will remember, he will recognize, and he will be a better husband for it.  He will bring her a coffee and say it's for 'no reason', knowing full well that he could feel the tornadic winds of a near freak-out from 3 blocks away as he approached their house, turned that damn car around and drove 10 minutes to a coffeehouse.  He will bring home take-out on the day that he knows she had a big meeting at work, and be sure to be there early enough that she isn't secretly crying into a skillet, still wearing her workclothes and those stupid pantyhose with a hole in the crotch because she won't buy herself new ones, while the kids are fighting like ninjas in front of the television.
He will remember, and he will be better for it.

Her daughter will remember how mom always told her no when she asked to go with her to get a few groceries.  At the time, it hurt her feelings...but mom always said she'd be 'right back,' and she always was.  Somehow, she was usually in a better mood, too, even though she swore she hated the grocery store.  She will understand now that it had nothing to do with her, necessarily....it had to do with mom needing a few minutes to regroup.  Most of all, she will finally realize why mom always had well-groomed feet, even when she was only wearing old flip flops.  She will come to appreciate that 45minutes to an hour spent in a crappy massage chair that has a skip in it and sometimes feels more like someone is beating the crap out of your back with their knuckles.  She will be glad that the man behind that doctor's mask doesn't try to make smalltalk as he scrapes the callouses off of her feet, and the fact that she can get lost in a magazine full of absolute garbage about celebrities that she could care less about.  She doesn't care who wore that $5,000 designer dress best...she just simply needs a little wooooooosaaaaaaah time.  She will take that hour once a month for herself, she will sign up for that water aerobics class at the YMCA, she will do those little things that make the family whine once in a while....
She will do them because she learned from her mother that those things are important. 
If we, as mothers, always give of ourselves but NEVER do anything for ourselves; we are teaching our children that we are somehow less important.  While they are our WORLD, we are what makes THEIR world go 'round.  If WE are exhausted, pissed off, completely disgruntled, sleep deprived and depressed....how much fun is THEIR world going to be?  What good can we possibly do them?

There is nothing wrong with knowing your favorite color.  There is nothing wrong with buying a new shirt...even if it is on clearance and you have a coupon.  And there is CERTAINLY nothing wrong with hot pink toe nails after a long week of shuttling, board meetings, phone calls, soccer games and the occassional glass of wine snuck in after all the tiny toes are tucked tightly in bed. 

LEAD BY EXAMPLE. 



This post is lovingly dedicated to every child whose life was cut short by a mother who had  lost hope, lost sight of what was real and important, and was simply so desperate for an end to her depression that she did the unthinkable. 
May each and every one of them rest in peace, feeling loved each day as they run and play with Jesus.