A “C”??????? Really???? Not an “A” not a “B” not even a “B-“ but a flippin “C??” I scan the professor’s comments over and over again. A “C”???????? There were a total of 4 A’s in the class and I think around 8 or so B’s and I got a “C”? I scan over the comments for the 150th time. It’s not my best work, but it certainly wasn’t my worst. The comments, although plentiful, didn’t seem to be “C” comments. What did the people who got A’s and B’s do that I didn’t??
What is a perfectionistic woman to do??
Studying has taken the place of organization. Mail sits in heaps on the counter, dishes are piled up, carpets are unvaccuumed and I don’t even want to address the science projects in the back of the fridge. All in all……..school is totally kicking my butt!!
It seems as if the entire day is mocking my resolve to give myself a break! Even my jeans were way too tight today (after weeks of food revelry of Super Bowl and Valentine’s Day)….it’s Fat Tuesday and I feel just that……fat!!!!
A “C”?????
It’s been a l-o-n-g time since I have subjected myself to the letter grade system of judging the worth of my writing...... I am all for evaluation - - as long as I get an “A.” But a “C”??? It’s history for goodness sake…..not math…..not science!
So what now?? How do I approach this giant, rounded letter?
Showing posts with label Pity Party. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pity Party. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Snowplow
Nothing screams “You are alone!” like a snow covered driveway needing to be shoveled. My driveway is steep…..so steep I have to walk down my lawn sometimes to the mailbox to keep from slipping. My little powder blue Audi A4, Carlito, sits low to the ground and, like me, is better suited for sunny days and the beach than 30 degrees and snow.
The snow plows left giant berms of grey ice and snow in front of my driveway. Snow drifts of alpine proportions covered everything in a blanket of white. You couldn’t even tell where the driveway was. Carlito is a german-engineered sexy love machine….pretty to look at….fun to drive……but no good at plowing through snow and ice up a steep driveway.
Shoveling snow is a new thing for me. When I was married, we had a gravel driveway and a tractor, so there was never a need for a snow shovel. I had no idea about the techniques and tricks to shoveling a drive. I look at my neighbors’ pristine snow free driveways and wonder, “how in the world do they do that?” Secretly, I was hoping that I would wake up to a snow free driveway - much like the story of the shoemaker and the elves….you get up and voila….work is done. But alas, I looked out the window and *sigh* snow still there……Carlito still parked on the street.
I pull on my snow boots, find a hat and a pair of gloves and began to dig out my driveway. The first 5 minutes were okay - - I kept seeing cars pass by…..people waving…..and wondering why they don’t offer to help….after all…..I am a single mom…..a girl outside shoveling a mammoth driveway…..where is chivalry…..servanthood…….sympathy?? Remembering that this is my driveway and my responsibility…..I continued to shovel….scrape….and slide snow from one end to the other. *sigh* “I hate being alone” repeats in my head over and over again…..I want to be a part of a team, not a lone ranger. The sound of the snow shovel scraping concrete is a reminder that I am responsible for myself…..that if I don’t shovel this driveway, it won’t be done…..that when the rubber hits the road….I have got to take care of me.....because no one else will. I wish I could say that this is an empowering feeling, but quite honestly, I just wanted to sit down in the snow in my driveway and pout. But what good is pouting when there is no one to pout to…..just me, the snow shovel and two tons of snow.
Seeing that my pity party is just wasting time, I try to at least get a good workout while scooping, scraping, and shoveling. Abs, hips and thighs all got their workouts and I started to sweat. Forty-five minutes later, half the driveway is done. I can pull Carlito in the driveway and be glad that I finished.
The snow plows left giant berms of grey ice and snow in front of my driveway. Snow drifts of alpine proportions covered everything in a blanket of white. You couldn’t even tell where the driveway was. Carlito is a german-engineered sexy love machine….pretty to look at….fun to drive……but no good at plowing through snow and ice up a steep driveway.
Shoveling snow is a new thing for me. When I was married, we had a gravel driveway and a tractor, so there was never a need for a snow shovel. I had no idea about the techniques and tricks to shoveling a drive. I look at my neighbors’ pristine snow free driveways and wonder, “how in the world do they do that?” Secretly, I was hoping that I would wake up to a snow free driveway - much like the story of the shoemaker and the elves….you get up and voila….work is done. But alas, I looked out the window and *sigh* snow still there……Carlito still parked on the street.
I pull on my snow boots, find a hat and a pair of gloves and began to dig out my driveway. The first 5 minutes were okay - - I kept seeing cars pass by…..people waving…..and wondering why they don’t offer to help….after all…..I am a single mom…..a girl outside shoveling a mammoth driveway…..where is chivalry…..servanthood…….sympathy?? Remembering that this is my driveway and my responsibility…..I continued to shovel….scrape….and slide snow from one end to the other. *sigh* “I hate being alone” repeats in my head over and over again…..I want to be a part of a team, not a lone ranger. The sound of the snow shovel scraping concrete is a reminder that I am responsible for myself…..that if I don’t shovel this driveway, it won’t be done…..that when the rubber hits the road….I have got to take care of me.....because no one else will. I wish I could say that this is an empowering feeling, but quite honestly, I just wanted to sit down in the snow in my driveway and pout. But what good is pouting when there is no one to pout to…..just me, the snow shovel and two tons of snow.
Seeing that my pity party is just wasting time, I try to at least get a good workout while scooping, scraping, and shoveling. Abs, hips and thighs all got their workouts and I started to sweat. Forty-five minutes later, half the driveway is done. I can pull Carlito in the driveway and be glad that I finished.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
The Grande Pity Party
Now I have been known to throw a pretty good party. As a matter of fact, it could possibly be one of my favorite things…..it doesn’t matter if the party is at my house or a venue, thrown for a couple of people or for a hundred - it makes me happy. I have even been known to thrown a pretty darn good pity party when the mood strikes……these parties are the ones I try to keep on the QT……there is just no pretty dish to make what I am serving there more palatable.
Nothing puts me into full throttle pity party mode than guilt - single-divorced parent guilt to be exact. You know the kind - the guilt that starts will little Junior getting a bad report from a teacher and ends with the finely tuned orchestra in your head playing yet another rendition of, “If you were a better parent, Junior would be an angel…” I know that song well.
As a single parent, I often feel as if I am playing the role of both parents - being both cheerleader and disciplinarian…coach and line judge….windshield and bug. At times, I try to convince the world (and myself) that I am a good parent. The cycle is predictable - worry…guilt….defensiveness…..guilt….crabbiness…irritation…..more guilt…anger…..phone call to the X….more defensiveness….more anger…more guilt… emotional exhaustion
What I have learned in the last year is that I cannot coerce, manipulate or otherwise guilt my X into being the picture of what I consider a good and proper Charles Ingalls dad to be. He has his own picture (possibly of Fred Flintstone) that he is emulating. Any attempt to coerce, manipulate, guilt or even reason him into my “picture” is met with a resistance of grand proportion. Our vision of parenting was not the same in marriage…so I am not sure why in the world I would think that if I just talked long enough…and passionately enough, he would “buy into” my vision. Honestly, I am sure he is on the other side of the phone thinking…..just shut up…..but he is typically somewhat polite and waits for the opportune moment to flee.
Being a single parent is the hardest thing I have ever had to do. It’s not just the quiet house or the strain of being both household parent figures - - I feel alone on the journey. There is no one to brainstorm with, to be the voice of reason, to collaborate punishment options….. Although the X and I never really saw eye to eye in the parenting realm, I do miss our conversations about the kids - the sharing of dreams and disappointments….the feeling that we were Bonnie and Clyde…..going in no holds barred and then running for our lives in fear.
Looking back over the last year, there have been times where I have failed as a parent - I have been crabby out of sheer exhaustion, I have been too quick to mentally blame their father for their actions, I have both over-reacted and under-reacted. This year, I have been too busy….too needy….too tired. What I need to learn is to cut myself some slack - give myself a break - and then do likewise to my kids and my X. When there is slack in the rope, there is no push/pull….and then you have a partnership.
Nothing puts me into full throttle pity party mode than guilt - single-divorced parent guilt to be exact. You know the kind - the guilt that starts will little Junior getting a bad report from a teacher and ends with the finely tuned orchestra in your head playing yet another rendition of, “If you were a better parent, Junior would be an angel…” I know that song well.
As a single parent, I often feel as if I am playing the role of both parents - being both cheerleader and disciplinarian…coach and line judge….windshield and bug. At times, I try to convince the world (and myself) that I am a good parent. The cycle is predictable - worry…guilt….defensiveness…..guilt….crabbiness…irritation…..more guilt…anger…..phone call to the X….more defensiveness….more anger…more guilt… emotional exhaustion
What I have learned in the last year is that I cannot coerce, manipulate or otherwise guilt my X into being the picture of what I consider a good and proper Charles Ingalls dad to be. He has his own picture (possibly of Fred Flintstone) that he is emulating. Any attempt to coerce, manipulate, guilt or even reason him into my “picture” is met with a resistance of grand proportion. Our vision of parenting was not the same in marriage…so I am not sure why in the world I would think that if I just talked long enough…and passionately enough, he would “buy into” my vision. Honestly, I am sure he is on the other side of the phone thinking…..just shut up…..but he is typically somewhat polite and waits for the opportune moment to flee.
Being a single parent is the hardest thing I have ever had to do. It’s not just the quiet house or the strain of being both household parent figures - - I feel alone on the journey. There is no one to brainstorm with, to be the voice of reason, to collaborate punishment options….. Although the X and I never really saw eye to eye in the parenting realm, I do miss our conversations about the kids - the sharing of dreams and disappointments….the feeling that we were Bonnie and Clyde…..going in no holds barred and then running for our lives in fear.
Looking back over the last year, there have been times where I have failed as a parent - I have been crabby out of sheer exhaustion, I have been too quick to mentally blame their father for their actions, I have both over-reacted and under-reacted. This year, I have been too busy….too needy….too tired. What I need to learn is to cut myself some slack - give myself a break - and then do likewise to my kids and my X. When there is slack in the rope, there is no push/pull….and then you have a partnership.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
I Want My Life Back!
I want my life back!!!
That’s what I hear when I talk to divorced women who were married a long time. Admittedly, those words have escaped my mouth a time or two (or ten or fifteen)…. It doesn’t even seem to matter if the divorce was amicable, if there was years of fighting, if there was infidelity…we all seem to have the commonality of missing our previous lives. I know this sounds mercenary, but we don’t even have to miss our exes to want our lives back.
You spend a long time building that “house” that is marriage - painting the walls with shared experiences, carpeting the floors with labors of love, planting flowers of joy, watering the lawn with tears, and even planning to expand the house with dreams. When you leave that house, there is an inexplicable sadness - that “house” has pieces of you in it - it was a shared vision - built with the hope that someday this “house” would be “perfect.”
It is difficult to go through a crisis without having someone at home to light a fire, pour you a glass of wine and give you a hug. Even if your X didn’t do those things (mine did) it’s just the fact that someone is there with you in your stinky day. Many women tell me that their life would be better if they just had a man - someone to share their lives with. As a social person, loneliness is very hard to cope with. It is just hard… sometimes.... Other times, I realize that it is far better to be lonely and single than lonely and married.
My girlfriends and I are learning to encourage each other and help each other out to “fill-in” that space - the gap left with divorce. We all miss being financially secure, being able to go places without looking for a sitter (myself excluded on that one), having a date for important events and even doing household chores together. Being on your own after being married for 16 years can be a very scary place. I am responsible for me…..I have no one to blame for not replacing the trash bag but myself….I have no reason to linger in bed on a Saturday morning…..I have no one to cook for…to go on a bike ride with… I worry that I will have no one to catch me when I fall…. I have cried many tears over all of these, especially the last one…… but here is the reality of the situation…if I have no one to catch me when I fall, then I have made myself an island…..I have emotionally isolated myself….I have refused to reach out to trustworthy people and LET THEM HELP ME….
In an earlier blog, I wrote about the importance of having good friends and inviting them in. As a woman taking care of herself, there are other elements that need to be in place to reduce my stress and help me get things done in a pinch….so…
Divorced Diva’s Rule #2: Have certain Essential People in your life to come to your rescue if needed. Essential People to know are: a mechanic, a lawyer, a computer whiz, a financial advisor, a good tailor (trust me), a good insurance agent, handy guy friends (to fix that broken toilet handle), a home improvement guy who can fix major plumbing, electrical, fallen gutters, etc., and an expert networker who seems to know everyone and can give you a referral in a pinch. Also, invest in a AAA Membership so if your car breaks down or you run out of gas, you have someone to call.
My last two weeks have reinforced the need to have a good strong network of “people” to help me. Where I had relied on a husband to take care of these things for me, I now have to do them myself….or call my X….. and we all know that I will do anything to avoid calling the X……I’ll climb Mt. Everest before I call the X just to show that I can… (this is probably a subject for further self discovery, but I am currently in denial that this is a bad thing)… but back to the subject at hand…
The beauty of creating a new life is that you are creating a new life. It’s exciting…..it's creative...you can surround yourself with beautiful things and beautiful people. You are building a new house with colors and a design you choose. When the loneliness strikes (and it will) throw a pity party - a REAL pity party…..have brunch with friends…..start a new project….go to the grocery looking cute (trust me on that one……)…. and just breathe. Look forward and not back…the past is a piece of you but it is not the totality of you…and remember the “B” in Plan B is for beautiful.
That’s what I hear when I talk to divorced women who were married a long time. Admittedly, those words have escaped my mouth a time or two (or ten or fifteen)…. It doesn’t even seem to matter if the divorce was amicable, if there was years of fighting, if there was infidelity…we all seem to have the commonality of missing our previous lives. I know this sounds mercenary, but we don’t even have to miss our exes to want our lives back.
You spend a long time building that “house” that is marriage - painting the walls with shared experiences, carpeting the floors with labors of love, planting flowers of joy, watering the lawn with tears, and even planning to expand the house with dreams. When you leave that house, there is an inexplicable sadness - that “house” has pieces of you in it - it was a shared vision - built with the hope that someday this “house” would be “perfect.”
It is difficult to go through a crisis without having someone at home to light a fire, pour you a glass of wine and give you a hug. Even if your X didn’t do those things (mine did) it’s just the fact that someone is there with you in your stinky day. Many women tell me that their life would be better if they just had a man - someone to share their lives with. As a social person, loneliness is very hard to cope with. It is just hard… sometimes.... Other times, I realize that it is far better to be lonely and single than lonely and married.
My girlfriends and I are learning to encourage each other and help each other out to “fill-in” that space - the gap left with divorce. We all miss being financially secure, being able to go places without looking for a sitter (myself excluded on that one), having a date for important events and even doing household chores together. Being on your own after being married for 16 years can be a very scary place. I am responsible for me…..I have no one to blame for not replacing the trash bag but myself….I have no reason to linger in bed on a Saturday morning…..I have no one to cook for…to go on a bike ride with… I worry that I will have no one to catch me when I fall…. I have cried many tears over all of these, especially the last one…… but here is the reality of the situation…if I have no one to catch me when I fall, then I have made myself an island…..I have emotionally isolated myself….I have refused to reach out to trustworthy people and LET THEM HELP ME….
In an earlier blog, I wrote about the importance of having good friends and inviting them in. As a woman taking care of herself, there are other elements that need to be in place to reduce my stress and help me get things done in a pinch….so…
Divorced Diva’s Rule #2: Have certain Essential People in your life to come to your rescue if needed. Essential People to know are: a mechanic, a lawyer, a computer whiz, a financial advisor, a good tailor (trust me), a good insurance agent, handy guy friends (to fix that broken toilet handle), a home improvement guy who can fix major plumbing, electrical, fallen gutters, etc., and an expert networker who seems to know everyone and can give you a referral in a pinch. Also, invest in a AAA Membership so if your car breaks down or you run out of gas, you have someone to call.
My last two weeks have reinforced the need to have a good strong network of “people” to help me. Where I had relied on a husband to take care of these things for me, I now have to do them myself….or call my X….. and we all know that I will do anything to avoid calling the X……I’ll climb Mt. Everest before I call the X just to show that I can… (this is probably a subject for further self discovery, but I am currently in denial that this is a bad thing)… but back to the subject at hand…
The beauty of creating a new life is that you are creating a new life. It’s exciting…..it's creative...you can surround yourself with beautiful things and beautiful people. You are building a new house with colors and a design you choose. When the loneliness strikes (and it will) throw a pity party - a REAL pity party…..have brunch with friends…..start a new project….go to the grocery looking cute (trust me on that one……)…. and just breathe. Look forward and not back…the past is a piece of you but it is not the totality of you…and remember the “B” in Plan B is for beautiful.
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