Getting Fed

eternally, woman spills herself away in driblets to the thirsty, seldom being allowed the quiet, the peace, to let the pitcher fill up to the brim. - Anne Morrow Lindbergh

Six years ago my husband and I were sitting in the executive offices of a church going over the details of our son's impending baptism.  We sat on the sofa as unsure new parents listening to the same wonderful man who had baptized both of us as babies (in that very same church) talk about the rite of baptism - the history, the significance etc.  Toward the end of the conversation as we were wrapping up he asked us if we planned to attend that particular church as a family in the future.  Since we had given the topic little thought we were honest and said we weren't sure, that we hadn't really decided yet.  His response was interesting.  He said "It doesn't matter to me where you decide to worship, whether it's this church or any other is fine with me.  Just so long as in a spiritual sense, you're getting fed." 

I love that way of putting it.  I loved the way he treated the soul, or the spirit, as something that needed to be fed just as much as the body.  Few people would argue the mind/body/soul connection and the importance of maintaining all three, but something about the language he used just really hit the mark for me mentally.  We spend so much time putting "first things first" in our lives that it can be hard to remember to set time aside to do the things we love, the things that feed our soul - but it's important.  If we don't make time to do the things we enjoy we become stressed out, depressed, and spiritually starved.

This "food" is different for everyone.  For some it is exercise, non-fiction, cooking and church.  For others it's indie movies, shoe shopping, poetry and the ocean.  My husband feeds himself with skiing, music, mountain biking and old BMW's.  I feed myself with books, gardening, blogging, music and Windex.  Nobody loves cleaning a kitchen counter more than I do.  Nobody.

Sometimes the things that feed our soul are so small they can be easy to miss.  The other day I was driving down the road on a perfect Spring day.  The windows were down, the sun was strong and the air was crisp.  At just the right moment that one perfect song came through my iPod via Pandora (*side note:  Pandora is magic.  Seriously, how does that software always know exactly what you want to hear exactly when you want to hear it?  It constantly amazes me - magic I say.)  I turned the volume up so loud the dashboard was vibrating and I couldn't hear anything but the music.  The sound of the wind, my car, and the notice dings of new e-mails coming through my phone all disappeared.  The music made my skin prickly and my heart beat faster than usual.  I could feel that song in every square inch of me and I thought to myself - 'This feeling.  This is it.  This is what it feels like when your soul gets what it needs'.  I've heard athletes feel this sort of rush all the time...but I'm just going to have to take their word for it.

Patrick's favorite T-shirt is from Copper Mountain in Colorado.  It has a skier doing some crazy jump on the front with his skis all crisscrossed and under the image it reads "fuel for the soul".  I like to make fun of him for being "soooooo hard core ", but the truth is that skiing and biking really do fuel his soul, his spirit - whatever name you want to give it.  If a month or so goes by and he hasn't been outdoors to recreate somehow he becomes irritable, depressed and generally unpleasant to be around.  When we first got married I didn't understand how important these things were to him and I would try to guilt him into staying around the house more.  It didn't take long before I realized that a) it's not worth fighting a losing battle and b) he really needs to do these things in order to feel his best.  I've also just grown up and realized there is no sense in trying to stop someone you love from doing the things that make them happy.

The trick is finding the ever elusive "balance" between getting fed and being a pig about it.  Taking what you need to be a better partner, a better parent, a better person is critical...no doubt.  Equally important however, is taking enough to be satisfied without stuffing yourself and leaving the people around you feeling hungry.  Self-sacrifice and putting your family first is the name of the game in parenting.  A friend of mine told me once about being a parent that "if it's not a little hard, you're probably not doing it right."  I will admit that when it comes to feeding myself, I prefer to err on the side of always wanting a snack because I'm never really full.  My mommy guilt and Yankee upbringing always have me not taking quite enough of what I need for myself.  I know lots of moms who feel the same way.  I guess I reason that there will be a day when I can indulge in all the "me" related activities my soul desires...but if I wanted that day to be today I shouldn't have had two kids.

I think a great place to start is simply knowing what it is that fuels us.  So when the opportunity presents itself - when we have the chance to feed our soul, we know how to do it.  When we find ourselves down and needing to be lifted up we know what will help us get back on our feet.  Recognizing and practicing the things that bring us joy is as important as making sure we have something green on the dinner plate. 

Don't let yourself go hungry.  Make sure that once everyone at the table of your life has what they need, you sit down and feed yourself too.  Carve out the time to make sure all three elements of You are being given the attention and the fuel they need to thrive.  Even if it means taking your plate into the bedroom and eating in front of the TV. 

Gotta run.  Dinner is almost ready, and I'm starving.

Bringing The Light

not to believe in the possibility of permanent peace is to disbelieve in the godliness of human nature - Mahatma Gandhi

I'd like to qualify this post with a few thoughts.  The first is that my goal is to write a new post about once a month(ish) from now on.  I'm totally honored that anyone even takes the time to read this blog in the first place.  I'm afraid that more than one post per month could lead to reader burn-out, and the last thing I want to do is jeopardize my fan base of six loyal followers.  The second qualifier is that I'd like to apologize in advance if this post sounds a little bit like a poorly-written presidential speech or a crappy nondenominational sermon.  I'm a little extra heady these days so bear with me.

The third and final qualifier to this post is that I was torn when choosing the topic. In the wake of the recent Boston Marathon bombings it seems frivolous to write about anything else, but it is also such a delicate, emotionally charged and painful topic that I was reluctant to write about it at all. In the end I decided to write about the marathon events in an indirect way. I decided to focus on the question everyone seems to keep asking themselves in the wake of all this sadness. That question is 'What the hell is wrong with people these days anyway?'

9/11, Newtown CT, the movie theater shooting in Aurora, Virginia Tech massacre and now the Boston Marathon bombings - just to name a few.  Sigh.  Let's all move to The Netherlands right?  We can't accept the idea that there is just no good reason for all this insanity, so we start looking for answers.  What's wrong with society?  What's wrong with our laws or law makers?  What's wrong with our family values?  What's wrong with the media? Where are we missing the mark as a country and as a human race that such unthinkable events keep taking place? 

Of course everyone has their theories.  A close family member of mine says the Internet is the problem (clearly, this family member is over the age of sixty).  She argues in the "old days" if you were insane/crazy/evil you had to sit in your house and be crazy all by yourself.  It was just you, possibly your family, and your crazy.  Maybe, if you were lucky, you could hook up with someone else in your travels who was the same brand of crazy as you, and the two of you could be crazy together.  Today however, you can just hop online and find a whole community full of people who, (as luck would have it) are your exact same brand of crazy.  They will talk crazy with you, make you feel justified in your craziness and even give you new and exciting ideas on how to execute your crazy desires.  You can join a forum and talk crazy all day long with crazies form all around the world - what fun.  While I get her point I'm not sure the Internet is entirely to blame. 

Other folks say it is the need for stricter gun control, stronger religious foundations, banning violent video games, reducing the use of prescription drugs, more traditional family structures, the list goes on.  I'm going to wimp-out and take the opinion of not having an opinion.  I have some ideas of course, but I'm going to defer to an earlier post about opinions and shoving them down the throats of others - in other words, I'm going to keep my opinions to myself on this one.  We are all entitled to our own thoughts and feelings about the world we live in and the reasons why such unthinkable things take place in it. You go ahead and have your opinions - I'm sure they're great, and I'm sure there is lots of solid logic and good reasoning behind them.  Sadly, even if we knew for certain the "why?" it wouldn't change the past.  It couldn't undo what happened, and it couldn't bring back the sweet little eight year old boy who lost his life on Monday or heal the hundreds of people who were injured.  It starts to feel overwhelming and hopeless - as though the problem is too big to solve.  What the hell is wrong with these people is all we can say - as though "these people" are everywhere and the bad outweigh the good.

A popular quote that went viral throughout the course of the last week came from an unlikely source. It came from comedian Patton Oswalt who wrote the following in the days after the marathon bombing - he said:  "I remember, when 9/11 went down, my reaction was, 'Well, I've had it with humanity.' But I was wrong. This is a giant planet and we're lucky to live on it but there are prices and penalties incurred for the daily miracle of existence. One of them is, every once in awhile, the wiring of a tiny sliver of the species gets snarled and they're pointed towards darkness. But the vast majority stands against that darkness and, like white blood cells attacking a virus, they dilute and weaken and eventually wash away the evil doers and, more importantly, the damage they wreak. This is beyond religion or creed or nation. We would not be here if humanity were inherently evil. We'd have eaten ourselves alive long ago. So when you spot violence, or bigotry, or intolerance or fear or just garden-variety misogyny, hatred or ignorance, just look it in the eye and think, 'The good outnumber you, and we always will.' "

He's no Maya Angelou or Dalai Lama, but after reading that quote I thought 'You know what buddy? You're right'.  The good absolutely do outnumber the bad in this world and each one of us sees evidence of that every day.  These dark acts are just in such sharp contrast to a world filled with mostly light that it is easy to get confused into thinking evil has become the norm - when it absolutely hasn't.  So it seems our job as citizens of this planet is to bring The Light as hard and as strong as we can.  To help one another through physical and mental illness, to support those who are suffering financially or otherwise, to treat our children and our elderly with the respect they deserve, and to keep the best interest of the species - not the self, in mind.

Our responsibility is to make the path of peace so wide and so obvious that only a fool wouldn't choose it.  To teach peace to our children so they will continue to widen the road, until one day the path of hatred and intolerance becomes so small and so narrow, that anyone who takes it will immediately realize they have lost their way.  This IS happening.  It is happening right now, all the time, every day.  Human rights are expanding, environmental awareness is spreading, the emphasis on physical health is increasing, spiritual enlightenment is becoming a topic of everyday conversation.  We are getting better not worse.  We are realizing the only way to take care of future generations is to take better care of ourselves and each other now.

A girlfriend of mine from high-school who ran on Monday had her two children waiting for her at the finish line.  They were less than 200 feet from the explosions when the bombs went off and it took her half an hour to learn they were safe.  The outpouring of support and love for her family has been far reaching and obvious.  Much of that support and encouragement has happened over the very same Internet that allows the crazies to get together and chat (so I guess there goes that theory).  People from across the country and around the world have brought The Light to Boston in the aftermath of such a dark event.  I will close with a little more stolen Internet wisdom.  This quote is from my girlfriend Jill who posted the following on Facebook earlier this week: "Take care of each other. Not just today and tomorrow. Everyday. All the time."  Way to bring The Light you smart girl.

The Queen of Corn

After my last oh-so-scandalous post that mentioned - well, unmentionables, I have decided to make this post (and all future posts) suitable for audiences of all ages.  Well, the guarantee about future posts may be a stretch, but at the very least this one promises to be Rated G.  And what says wholesome and middle-America quite like a post about corn and friendship?  Not much.  So here is a nice cold glass of Organic Whole Milk (in a cyber sippy cup) to chase that naughty shot of Cuervo that was my last post.  So sit back, relax and feel free to enjoy with the whole family.

 

There is no easy way to say this so I'll just come right out and say it.  One of my all-time favorite movies is "Hope Floats" starring Sandra Bullock.  You can feel free to go ahead and judge, but the movie is sweet, charming and unexpectedly full of fabulous one-liners and little tidbits of wisdom.  It's also full of Harry Connick Jr. in a cowboy hat and jeans, and well, that's good enough for me.  Case and point:

What was I talking about again?  Oh right.  The movie is full of smart little life anecdotes, and in this post I will zero-in on my favorite.

*A little back story on the movie so the quote will have a frame of reference*:

Birdie (who names their kid that?), who is the Mom and lead character (played by Sandra Bullock) grew up in the rural town of Smithville, Texas.  She was apparently something pretty special back in high school because her beauty, personality and popularity ultimately earned her a crown and the title "Queen of Corn" in the Smithville annual parade.  Birdie entered womanhood with a charmed life, a handsome husband and the confidence that comes with having been a big fish in a small pond. 

The movie opens with Birdie sitting on a Dr. Phil-type daytime talk show stage.  Rather than getting the personal makeover she had been expecting, Birdie instead ends up finding out her lifelong best friend and her husband have been having an affair for some time.  They are in love and plan to be together.  This news leaves Birdie alone, not to mention shocked, embarrassed and broken.  The rest of the movie tells the story of this newly single mom trying to put the pieces of her life back together while trying to figure out what kind of a female role model she wants to be for her daughter, Bernice.

One day little Bernice asks Birdie about her early days in Smithville and her prestigious reign as the "Cream of Corn" (a cute and understandable mistake).  Birdie tells her daughter the following:  "When I was growing up, I thought I was going to be a special person, but I'm not.  I'm just an ordinary person, and that's okay - because you make me special." 

This line stuck with me and replayed in my mind many times throughout the course of my 20's.  Every time I felt as though I had been wronged in some way or life was turning out to be more difficult than I expected I would remind myself to get over it...and to get used to the idea that I didn't deserve it any better than anyone else.  To stop acting like I was the Queen of Corn. 

In an effort to have realistic life expectations (and maybe to keep myself humble), I spent a good part of my younger years reminding myself just how not special I was.  I was no different, no more interesting, no more beautiful, no more talented and no more intelligent than everyone else.  I spent many years practicing the art of humility and convincing myself that I had nothing distinctive or particularly unique to offer the world. 

Then I turned 34. 

I started to notice how amazing and talented my girlfriends are - all these women with such fabulous and unique gifts.  I have friends who teach school and friends who teach yoga.  I know women who can plant a garden and turn the results into a meal that would make Emeril blush.  I have friends who run marathons and friends that run the PTA.  Women who are raising their children while helping to raise other people's children.  I know women who make jewelry, or make furniture - and some that simply know how to make the sale.  I have friends who have a talent for painting or photographing life in such a way you didn't know it could be that beautiful. 

I look around me at these women who are killin' it every day in the office, or in the home (or both) for themselves and for their families.  These ladies are so versatile and multi-talented I couldn't easily pick the thing they do best - because most of them seem to do it all.  I'm starting to see that maybe we aren't special for the reasons we thought we were - but each of us are absolutely special just the same.  Maybe as we mature we become a woman who bears only a small resemblance to the girl we started out as, and most of the time that is a good thing.  There is a strength in knowing the things that make us special today (not twenty years ago) - and celebrating them.

I will close by saying that this community of talented women I am lucky enough to call my friends surprise me every day with all they are capable of doing.  And that from where I sit, each one of us looks like the Queen of Corn to me.

Panty Sniffer

I have been accused by someone, who shall remain nameless, of giving away too much personal information.  I'm not going to say who, but he is male, lives in my house, is half-Korean and his initials are Patrick Harvey.  I had to stop and think if he was right, if maybe I do give away too many details of my life that would be better kept private.  It's not so much the details of my life that I tend to give away, it's more the details of my thoughts, and since my thoughts are mine and mine alone, I quickly decided I can share them as I see fit - so that was easy. 

It also got me thinking about the general amount of sharing that takes place all the time between we humans and the strange shapes that transfer of information can take.  For example, you see a car driving down the road that has these three bumper stickers:

1)  Obama/Biden 2008 (and 2012).  Two stickers, but we will count those as one since it is one President.
2)  The Darwin "walking fish".
3)  The one that says "Support Your Local Farmers or Watch the Houses Grow" - you know the one with the wheat on it. 

We know the following things about this person (who we have never met):  they are liberal, they likely don't believe in God, and they enjoy a healthy, locally grown and well-balanced meal.  Maybe we don't really "know" that stuff, but we think it based on what we see.

Now you see a different car that has the following three bumper stickers:

1)  Romney/Who Was That Young Guy He Ran With Again?  No seriously, a Romney/Ryan 2012 sticker.
2)  The one that says "Abortion Stops a Beating Heart."
3)  The one that says "You Can Keep Your Hope and Your Change - Just Give Me Back My Guns and My Money."

 

We know the following things about this person (who we have, again, never met).  We know that they are a conservative, that they are likely Christian and pro-life, and that they enjoy shooting stuff and spending money.

I see these types of cars all the time on my commute, cars that allow you, encourage you to "size up" the owner and draw conclusions about what kind of a person he/she must be.  I am always surprised by the type of (what I would consider) private information people are willing to share about themselves with total strangers.  What I have realized is that when I know the person sharing it feels like an honor, a gift even to be let in on their life, their beliefs, their interests, etc.  When the sharer is a total stranger however, I feel like I am looking through their underwear drawer.  It just feels weird and wrong.

I am a Yankee.  That means there are certain things I just don't want to talk about.  I don't like talking about politics or religion or least of all - a womans right to choose.  I don't want to talk about these things with my Mom or my Grandmother, so I sure as shit don't want to talk about them on Facebook or with some perfect stranger.  That is not to be confused with not caring, or not having an opinion.  I have an opinion and I do care.  However, talking about what I would consider very personal issues with people who don't live in my house makes me feel like I am forcing someone to sniff my panties (if I wore them) and that just seems wrong to me. 

Based on the literal frenzy that surrounded the last Presidential election I would say that most people don't share my feelings on this topic.  The political slamming-down-the-throat of opinions that took place made me want to turn off every electronic device I owned until we had picked a winner.  I almost didn't vote (but I did) because the whole process just made me want to barf.  I think it's great that we live in a country and a time where we can say whatever the hell we want to whomever the hell we want without fear of consequence.  But like I tell my six year old son - just because you can get away with something doesn't mean you should.

Wouldn't it be nice if some things were still just ours?  Ours and the people who are absolutely closest to us - the people we trust with our lives?  Shouldn't there still be some things that only the bedroom or living room walls know about us?  Restraint is sexy.  I like the mystery that comes with not knowing every single detail of someone's life...it makes them more interesting to me.  It makes me want to get to know them better so that maybe I can be one of the lucky ones, the trusted ones who get to know their innermost personal thoughts.  One of the lucky ones who wants to look through their underwear drawer...instead of having my face smashed in it.

So I choose to save some things.  I save my most cherished thoughts for myself and my time alone with the people who know me best.  And for a dashing half-Korean man in his mid 30's, that I live with, who shall remain nameless - but his initials are Patrick Harvey.



the enemy of joy.

I recently read an interesting quote: "Comparison is the enemy of contentment."  It has also been said that comparison is the enemy of joy, which to me takes it one step further and really captures the spirit of the sentiment.  I suppose once one is content it is easier to experience joy, and if you are never truly content you can never experience true joy but whatever - you get the point.

I love this quote.  I love it because in the wold of social media, social networking, social schedules, and of course, good old fashioned socializing, it has become nearly impossible to not compare yourself to your peers.  It takes a tremendous amount of mental and emotional discipline to not allow ones self to become affected by the constant flood of information about the lives of others that we are faced with every day. 

We know when our friends get a new pair of boots, when they are taking a fabulous vacation to a tropical climate while we shiver in our cubicle, when someone has just fallen in love while our marriage falls apart, etc.  Nobody ever takes a picture of their sick child immediately following an epic puke session with the caption "today sucked so hard".  It's all too easy to fall down the slippery slope of why-do-they-have-it-so-much-better-than-me.  When in fact, they probably don't - social media just makes it look that way and in our minds we begin to compare. 

I think back to stories my Grandmother tells me about when she was raising her children in rural New Hampshire in the 40's and 50's.  Every family had only one car, which the men would drive to work in the morning leaving the wife and kids behind.  That meant if you wanted to be "social" you had to literally bundle up your brood and walk them to the neighbor's home for a cup of coffee and six million cigarettes, which my Gram did regularly to keep herself sane.  I don't blame her one bit, I would have done the same and worse, but aaaaaanyway.  Your social network consisted of three or four women in a similar socioeconomic situation as you with kids your kids age, etc, etc.  While I'm sure those four women were comparing themselves to one another in many ways, I don't think it had the same energy and impact as comparing yourself to your 416 "friends" on Facebook every day.

This raises another equally interesting point:  Why does it sting so much when we begin the mental tally of what someone else achieved in their life as compared to us?  I read Status Anxiety by Alain de Botton and found some good answers.  His book talks about our desire to "climb the social ladder" in society and how the result is various insecurities, anxieties and general unhappiness.  Here is a copy/paste directly from the on-line summary of the book Status Anxiety:

Causes:

• Lovelessness
• Expectation
• Meritocracy
• Snobbery
• Dependence

Solutions:

• Philosophy
• Art
• Politics
• Religion
• Bohemianism

One of the most interesting points for me was that when it comes to comparing ourselves to others we are most upset by those who we perceive most similar to us.  In other words, we don't get pissed when people like J.Lo and Brangelina have more than us - we expect them to, they somehow deserve it and it's fine with us.  They're so far beyond the scope of what we feel we could ever achieve that we don't find them to be a threat.  You don't ever hear anyone getting upset in the cafeteria during lunch because John Travolta just bought another jet and what the hell gives him the right?  No, we get irked because the middle-class family three doors down the street put an addition on the back of their house and then had the balls to take a ski trip to Utah.  We see these people as so similar to ourselves that it's harder for us to understand why they should have these things and we can't.  It seems illogical, but it's so true.  It is the people closest to us that have the ability to deprive us of the most joy - if we allow it.

As I get older I'm becoming very conscious of the human tendency to compare, and try to stop myself as soon as I become aware I'm doing it, but it can be hard.  This week I had two sick children and a sick nanny.  After trips to the ER, countless doctor visits and a straight week of no sleep I am officially cashed. Period.  It's February in New Hampshire which means grey skies and a "wintry mix" that just won't quit.  I'm dying for some sunshine, to get my hands in the dirt, to smell Spring and wear a skirt.  In short, I am completely bummed out. 

My parents are in Puerto Rico, my in-laws are in New Mexico and with it being school vacation week just about everyone we know is somewhere better than here.  I can't help but wish our daughter wasn't always sick.  I can't help but wish we had the extra cash or vacation time to go somewhere warm for a few days, I just can't.  I struggle to remind myself that Ekhart Tolle would say there is nowhere else I am supposed to be but here - because this is where I am.  This is the perfect place for me right now - except it doesn't feel so perfect. 

So I guess the answer is to keep trying, to keep fighting the urge to compare.  To remind myself that comparison truly is the enemy of joy, and that if I want to turn this award-winning case of the winter blues around I had better stop looking outside my life and start looking inside it for joy.  Because even in New Hampshire, even in February, even in a snowstorm, even with a sick baby the joy is there.  If we choose to see it.

Enough is Enough.

My six year-old son is obsessed with toys.  He is constantly browsing the Toys 'R Us catalog like it's the Wall Street Journal and pointing out the latest and greatest in plastic crap that Cartoon Network is pushing during commercials in between Ben 10 episodes.  It feels like the kid is constantly asking for something - even if it was just Christmas, his birthday, etc.  My big parenting line to him is that "want just creates more want".  The more you want things the longer the list of stuff you want gets and the more consumed by the want you become.  Eventually the wanting gets so big that it can never really be satisfied, the more material things we get the more we're holding our breath and waiting for the next thing that will finally feed the hungry want monster...except the monster is never full.

This is, of course, a difficult concept to explain to a 6 year old boy.  He's actually become very good about not constantly asking me for more stuff and now just goes straight to the source...his grandparents.  This post isn't about my son or his wanting however, it's really about mine.  I've noticed something about myself in my adult years - I'm becoming very aware of the passing of time and just how long it takes for my husband and I to finally get the things we want.  We're always putting the "practical" things we need like water neutralizers and well pumps before the stuff we'd really love to have...like granite counter tops in the kitchen.  The new Lexus RX330 I promised myself I would drive before the age of 30 seems maaaaany moons away from the 2003 Toyota with 147,000 miles I'm currently sporting.

I find myself reflecting on the past few years and making a mental checklist of the things we have acquired and the improvements we have made to the home.  It's amazing to think about how much we have done in such a short time, yet the list of things yet to be done is still so long.  Every room I walk into whispers the things it is missing to me.  My daughters bedroom windows that date back to 1837 whistle the cold winter air to me as I put her to sleep each night.  She drifts off to sleep thinking about My Little Pony while I lay next to her wishing we had the money to replace every window in the house.  There are stained carpets that need to be replaced, light fixtures that are fire hazards and bathrooms that are "charming" which is antique-home-code for "old and out of date".

I start crunching numbers in my mind.  I start looking online for ideas.  I start calling contractors for quotes.  I start wondering what our Christmas bonus and tax returns will look like this year.  I question if the money we put in will ever be returned to us when we eventually sell the house and then I realize that enough is ENOUGH.  When is it ever going to be enough?  How old will I be on the day I finally walk around our home and realize I have done all the things I ever wanted to do?  Something tells me the kids will be gone, the house will be quiet and boring and the new granite counter tops will bring me a very limited amount of joy and satisfaction. 

When that day comes I will likely look back on this time in our home with a different kind of want.  I'll want the kids to come home for more family dinners.  I'll want to spend more time talking to them on the phone, and I'll want to be young enough to enjoy the things together as a family that we are able to enjoy today.  So I try to quiet the wanting.  I try to remind myself that replacement windows will lead to new carpeting, which will lead to new counter tops which will lead to new tile in the mudroom, etc.  All of those things will happen and a new car will come and go and none of it will ever satisfy the wanting. 

The only thing that can satisfy the want is appreciation for what I already have.  Taking the focus off what hasn't been done or what's missing and putting the focus on what's already there is the only way to shut the want off.  I don't like resolutions, but if I had one for 2013 it would be to lock the want monster in a closet with wrist shackles and duct tape over it's mouth.  I am going to put my American-bred consumerism-worshiping ass in check this year and see how it feels to not always be waiting for the next big purchase.  When I walk into a room and hear the whispers of things it is missing I'm going to ignore it, and listen only to the voices of the people in it that aren't.

1953

I was home a few weeks back trying to juggle conference calls, stressful quarter-end related work activities, laundry, cleaning and kid drop-offs.  I made up this song in my head to a catchy little tune while I was crazily running around the house trying to be ten different people at once.  The chorus of the song went as follows: "When you come home my hair looks nice, your gin and tonic is chilling on ice.  why oh why can't it be 1953?  I'll fix your dinner then fill your glass, when I turn away you'll tap my ass.  Why oh why can't it be 1953?"

Needless to say this little ditty is about my June Cleaver/Martha Stewart fantasty of how dreamy it would be to only be responsible for one thing - my family.  Some days when the list of to-do's feels overwhelming and frankly, unfair, I long for the days when women took care of the house, their children and their husband and left the money making to men.  I think this is partly because I truly do enjoy domestic work and partly because the grass is just always greener.

This weekend, after a week-long tour of the Southwest in a mini-van with my family a-la Clark Griswald I was completely DONE with taking care of other people.  I was under-rested, under-fed, under-groomed and over-worked.  I was at a Mommy low and needed someone to take care of me for a second.  The baby started to throw a tantrum because she only wanted me to hold her and no one else.  I was trying to cook breakfast at the time and just didn't have a spare hand to give her which meant she was literally tugging at my skirt and crying.  My husband looked at me and said "why don't you just take care of the baby?" as if to say "why don't you just be the woman and take care of the offspring?" 

This little comment sent me into orbit mentally.  My response was an angry "DON'T TALK AT ME LIKE IT'S F'ING 1953!"  I angrily left the house and took the crying baby for a walk in the carriage to clear my head.  As I was strolling her to calm her down I thought about the irony of my unplanned comment.  Here I had made up an entire song (which I still think may be funny enough to put on YouTube) about wishing it were the simpler days of strict gender roles and not a couple of weeks later I am proudly flying my feminist flag and scolding my husband for treating me like anything less than his equal.

I guess the lesson here is that you can't have it both ways - and that perhaps neither way is really any easier than the other.  We can't be the bread-winners, mothers, wives, friends and housekeepers without a fair amount of stress.  I wouldn't however, trade the financial independence and the feeling of personal satisfaction I get from a job well-done at work for an apron any day of the week.  It wasn't eaiser for women trying to raise small children in 1953 - in fact in most ways, I'm sure it was harder.  Sure their only concern was taking care of their home and family, but they lacked so many of the freedoms and priviledges that modern-day working mothers have earned.  

What works is different for every family of course.  Some men stay home while their MD wives see patients all day.  Some moms I know have started consulting to give themselves more flexibility as far as their hours are concerned and some couples just match one another's 9-5 schedules like my husband and I.  What works depends on who earns a bigger salary, the age of your kids, the lifestyle you want to maintain and what kind of a person each partner is.  You have to prioritize what means most in your life and your family and take it from there, but I will say this:  aside from the fabulous fashion, costume jewelry and liberal consumption of cocktails at that time - I'm really grateful to be raising a family today and not 60 years ago.