Fire in the Sandbox!

Sometimes, we have to look at things from a different angle to get a solution.  For about a year, I have been treating a skin condition with everything I could find – cortisone, tea tree oil, blue goop and avoiding all lotions, creams and oils.  Things would seem to get better and then BAM! It comes back with a vengeance and spreads even further. 

I knew the cause of my condition, but I wanted an outward fix for an inward condition……let me just repeat that for myself to hear…..I wanted an outward fix for an inward condition.  Well, I am nothing if not consistent….  How many times have I told myself, if it wasn’t for x..y..and of course Z, I would not have behaved that way.  If he wouldn’t JKL then I wouldn’t LMN….what a load of KaKa!!  I want to fix all of the outward manifestations of an inside problem…..but I really don’t want to examine the actual inside. 

To rid myself of my condition, I have to eliminate all US wines, cut down on other wine, limit cheese, bread, and sugar—oh and drink a nasty concoction involving Apple Cider Vinegar.  Um….yeah…..see my reluctance???  But……my condition worsened until I had to do something and I am seeing great, amazing progress!!  I had to readjust my inside to get a true outside fix. 

After my X’s affair, the deacons of my church strongly suggested that I install software on his computer to keep him off certain sites and to monitor his behavior.  I told them in no uncertain terms that I was his wife, not his nanny---they said I was a fool.  Well…maybe….but I don’t think so. 

Prior to the discovery of the affair, we (read Becky) had a system of boundaries and checks and balances—that just meant that my X and my friend had created elaborate ways to get around them.  I had come to realize that my X’s behavior was between him and God—why should I control him??  Letting go of controlling his outward behavior allowed me to retain my dignity in a difficult situation.  It was not my fault…..I could not fix it…it wasn’t mine to fix.  The affair was an outward manifestation of an inward condition…no band-aid in the world would fix it. 

The Man has a wonderful saying—that when we fight, it’s simply our dysfunctions colliding.  My dysfunction butts up against his…doesn’t politely say excuse me…..and his butts right back.  We’re like two kids in the sand box emotionally pushing each other back into our own space.  I pick up a handful of sand, throw it in his eyes, and he exclaims, “that wasn’t fair!”  He finds kitty poop and smudges it on my favorite shirt….and it’s ON! 

What he says is accurate, however, the word dysfunction makes me feel broken….unusable….defective.  The actual definition of the prefix Dys is:  diseased, abnormal and faulty.  Dysfunction is so overused and has such a negative connation that it’s difficult to accept my behavior as a dysfunction….I am a Princess….I do not DYS-function!!!  (Of course, this has nothing to do with my tendency to avoid things….look the other way…you see nothing….) During my run today, I decided that there is a better word for me:  Mis-function.  I am not functioning the way I am supposed to….I have misfired. 

Many of my Mis-functions are actually a result of my strengths….which I think is pretty common…..

Affectionate can mis-function to become smothering

Problem solving can mis-function to become blaming

Detail oriented can mis-function to become critical

Protective can mis-function to become controlling

Passionate can mis-function to become bat s**t crazy!

To grow emotionally, I must look at my mis-fires, my mis-functions and discover what is going on inwardly that creates the outward behavior.  I have to get better at expressing my emotions—not my frustrations, not my list of gripes, but those feelings that press the FIRE button at a moment’s notice. 

But, just like my initial attempt to “heal” my skin condition, I typically want to fix the outside…(read:  everyone else).  But for true emotional healing, one must first look to the inside and the outside will follow. 

Slobber Straps

My strappy sandals sometimes sport slobber stains.  It’s true!!  I have a penchant to open my mouth and insert a size 8 sandal….no notice……no warning signs…..I just talk happily away…chit-chat-chit-chat until my words drop to the ground with a THUD….and then…..awkward silence…people look away….silence….and then I realize that I have done it again….a witty remark is born in my brain, gives birth through my lips and like a rebellious teenager, goes where I did not mean it to go. 

Such an instance happened a few weeks ago.  Someone casually asked me, “How’s Married Life???”  In an effort to be “real” and “wise” and “profound,” I said, “well you know the first year is always the hardest year, but we are having a great time……” The exact words are banished from my mind forever and replaced with the subtle taste of The Body Shop peppermint foot oil. 

What I meant to convey is that The Man and I are crazy happy, we’ve made it through the challenges of blending a family of six kids, navigated the land mines of raised toilet seats, schedules, dinner times, toothpaste brands and my endless collection of shoes beautifully displayed on the kitchen floor.  We made it!!  We still love each other---and like each other.  The challenges of the first year made us better communicators, better listeners and has given us a respect for each other’s feelings and opinions.  I could not imagine a better partner, a better friend and a better love than his. 

Blending a family is hard---good golly, it’s way harder than I imagined.  Teenagers like me---they have always liked me….but then again, they didn’t have to live with me.  I was always cool and fun (at least in my own mind) and offered wise words in a crisis.  Now, I sometimes look in the mirror to see if my leper’s spots have disappeared…… just sayin’.  Blending a life is hard---I am a morning person…..and The Man loves to sleep in……he loves his quiet time and my quiet time lasts about 30 seconds and then I am off to the chatty races.  But it works.  I have learned to keep my alligator mouth closed (to avoid the aforementioned peppermint taste) and to sometimes speak my mind with a confidence that only a trusting relationship can bring. 

This morning, I heard a song that I quoted in my marriage vows:

Stay with me

My love, I hope you'll always be

Right here by my side if ever I need you

Oh, my love

In your arms

I feel so safe and so secure

And everyday is such a perfect day to spend

Alone with you

I will follow you, will you follow me?

All the days and nights that we know will be

I will stay with you, will you stay with me?

Just one single tear in each passing year

With the dark

Oh, I see so very clearly now

All my fears are drifting by me

So slowly now, fading away

I can say

The night is long but you are here

Close at hand, oh, I'm better for the smile you give

And while I live

I will follow you, will you follow me?

All the days and nights that we know will be

I will stay with you, will you stay with me?

Just one single tear in each passing year there will be

How lucky I am to have a partner whom I can follow and who follows me back!!!  Every day is a perfect day to spend with him!  If I could reel back in that question about married life, I would answer it like this:

How lucky I am to find a partner who is willing to play with me, who is wise, patient and loving, and who cares deeply about his family.  I have learned to be more generous, more understanding and more……ME!  What a blessing it is to be fully me, fully seen, and fully loved.  We have had so many adventures already:  trekking through Costa Rica over suspended bridges and down waterfalls—chatting with monkeys, frogs and sloths.  We have bet on the loser at the Kentucky Derby, been on live television for our picnic fare at the Indianapolis 500, and dressed up as 80’s rockers for Halloween.  We left no Brunello behind while tasting through Tuscany and have sailed almost to Canada on a small sailboat---Our list of adventures could go on for pages. 

Yesterday, we were married one year and one month----blending is still difficult at times, we still disagree on the proper way to eat chicken legs and our dysfunctions sometimes bump into each other…..but I am truly having the time of my life with the Clyde to my Bonnie!!

Hopefully, my sandals will be safe……at least for a while.  

How I Know My Heart!

My first wedding anniversary with The Man is tomorrow.  It’s hard to believe that it has been twelve months since we stood hand-in-hand amongst flowers and friends sharing our hearts and committing ourselves to each other.  Looking back, I see a perfect day—one that expressed our hearts completely.  We had no traditions for the sake of traditions – no hiding behind ceremony and pomp…..it was The Man and Me proclaiming our vows in a very vulnerable and dynamic way…with moments that twelve months from now I am still savoring! 

It was a long journey getting from broken heart to fullness of life—it wasn’t easy!  I spent many a night with a box of Tagalongs, a bottle of wine, and Under the Tuscan Sun.  The Man pursued me with 80’s music I had never heard of, quotes from G. K. Chesterson, and through his love of cooking.  We danced and we sang (actually he sang) and we debated everything from the Easter Bunny to music to whether or not dill should go in his Serbian salad.  Our hearts intertwined through mutual respect and joy. 

How easy it would have been to miss each other……

I have written many times about the importance of a List—you know, a thoughtful list of the type of person you would like to share your life with.  Dating is one big job interview---seriously….you are looking at the person, their interactions, personality and character traits to see if you are a good match.  If you can’t describe in detail the person you want to be with, how will you know if you find them??  We like to think that there is a big “aha” moment when we meet the “one.”  The truth is, sometimes our own dysfunction gets in the way of reality. 

Consider this:  when one gets divorced, ideally, she will take time to look inside herself and grow and change to be a healthier person.  Many people take years to unpack their issues – either on their own or in counseling to move to a better place in their lives.  They begin to see the differences inside themselves and start considering a serious relationship.  Sticking Point:  if you choose the wrong person, you don’t have a chance to take off the training wheels and use the lessons you have learned to have a healthy relationship-----you go right back into CrazyVille and that train ain’t stoppin for nobody.  It is easier to find the wrong person than the right person…….time always tells……and the wrong person can make anyone crazy!!!!

So back to my list and my butterflies…..  Here is my list and here is the proof that I am a very, very lucky girl!!! 

Passionate about God – this fits Veso to a tee……he eschews “religion” for the real deal----and lives his life as a person compassionate to others, giving and generous and seeks Truth.  This is something I appreciate so much about him!!

Passionate about a cause.  What I am learning is that it doesn’t have to be MY cause that he is passionate about – this one actually made me smile tonight. 

Nice Dresser – seriously, it may seem shallow, but I want to be able to look across the room and think, “dang, my man looks awesome!!!.”  

Has close friends - this is a must for me!

Attentive – This may be my favorite thing about him!!!!

Hangs back a bit….a watcher – After being with someone for many years who resented anyone who stole the limelight from him, I wanted to be able to shine on my own at times and not be resented for it.  This was essential for my heart!  I needed a man who measured his words and let others speak and who was perceptive of those around him.  V is so secure in who he is that he doesn't have to prove his worth by dominating conversations....he is generous in his listening to others.  He wants to get to know people on a real level and get beyond the surface.  

Sweet – Check!

Wants to grow – How refreshing it is to be with a person who is ever improving and ever learning.  It inspires me to do the same!!!!

Athletic – OMG – check!! I adore his soccer-man bootie!!!  J

Makes things happen – check!

Close to his family – quite honestly, this was so, so, so important to me.  I love my family and I could never be with someone who was ambivalent towards theirs.  V is a good son, a good brother and a very good dad.  I adore this about him!

Engages with other people – For a long time, I watched The Man on the soccer field—observing how he interacted with others and how they reacted to him.  He truly engages with other people, encourages them, asks them about their lives and laughs…..I love his laugh!!! 

Entreprenurial, Professional – check!

Likes Art, Music, Food, and Travel – Blessed am I that he is passionate about all these things!!!!!! 

Has a list of things he wants to accomplish – check…..not a written out list, but he has a loose plan for sure!

Positive outlook – Very much so!!

Reads – He is a true truth seeker and is constantly reading and learning.

Likes to Dance – Hooray!!!!!!!!!!  He is an 80’s dancing machine!!!!

Spontaneous – Way more than me for sure!!!

How lucky am I to have found someone who completely fits the bill!!  It doesn’t matter how “nice” they are or how “cute” they are or how many butterflies they put in our insides….. they have to be right for you.  My list is not your list….my priorities are not your priorities….. what matters is being focused on the type of partner you need in life and becoming a good partner yourself.

I feel quite blessed that The Man and I crossed each other’s paths and that we stopped long enough to realize that we were indeed a good fit……. Had we not paid attention, we would have missed it.  He is the love of my life….a partner in the truest sense.  He sees me----really “Sees” me and gives me the confidence to be even More “Me.”

Love you, Babe!  Happy Anniversary! 

A Letter to the Ex-Wife

After meeting with a girlfriend and sharing common stories over a bottle of wine, it became apparent a blog must be written about being the new Mrs. X.  A few weeks ago, I wrote a letter to the new Mrs. X with a  few little hints for survival with my children and their mama bear (me)…but there was another letter I really needed to write but deep down, I am one big fried chicken….I don’t want to be misconstrued and I certainly don’t want to cause unnecessary drama…..

But……as I put on my Wayfarers…….step into a pair of The Man’s boxers……pull up my tube sox and slide down the hallway to the tunes of Bob Seger……...I think to myself………sometimes…you just have to say what the flick…………flock……….fleck whatever it is that you have to say at such times……

Dear Ex-Wife:

We share a few special people in common.  Being an ex-wife myself, I completely understand your position.  I understand your frustrations…..I understand the need to emotionally distance yourself from a man who was in your life for a very, very long time…and I understand the emptiness that it brings.  However, there are a few things that you need to understand about me.

I am a good person.  I like puppies and ducks….and baby chickies (at least until they grow bigger into scary chickens).  One of the best things about me is my heart.  I do think about your heart and I try as much as I can to have empathy and understand where you are coming from.  Because my heart is big, there is more real estate to make me vulnerable…..your words can hurt me…they can piss me off…..they can make me apathetic…..they can send me on a shopping therapy spree lasting a whole weekend…..but there can still be hurt.  Although I am a big girl and can hold my own, arrows can hit their mark.  I expect you to trash talk to your friends, to your family, and to your man (after all, I have friends, family and a man, too)…..but please be sensitive……(I say this to myself as well).  I don’t expect you to care about my heart, but words are long lasting things that sometimes have unexpected consequences.  Sometimes we mean to hurt one person with them but they change direction and hurt someone completely unintended—like shrapnel. 

You should know that I will never undermine you to your children.  Period.  Enough said….but it needs to be said.  I would expect the same from my X’s new Mrs. 

Know that I could be a great ally.   I can be an extra hand. 

We have graduations, birthdays, and grandchildren to think about.  How great would it be if we could all celebrate together!! 

You should also know that I understand your hurt.  I understand the deconstruction of a marriage.  I know betrayal, loneliness, and the scary feeling of being single at 40----holy cow…..don’t I ever know those things.  However, I also know that my husband is a good father and a good man….part of the above celebrating together has got to include a peace treaty…..seriously. 

Know that I can enrich your children’s lives – not in a competitive sense….not in a parental sense……but in the sense that I can bring things into their lives that are uniquely mine…..not in competition with you, but rather to complement you….. I have no motherhood to offer them – that is your job.  I get the easy stuff….I know that….I didn’t change their diaper or hear their first words….but I am here to offer a word of encouragement, a sassy opinion, and even a project or two to work on when necessary.  I bring two kids of my own to the mix….making it all a birth order fruit basket upset for sure….but their interactions enrich their lives…..and gives them more people to care about. 

Lastly, I want to apologize for my own awkwardness.  I come near you and I don’t know what to say…..I get tongue tied and go all shy-girl.  You’ve been a part of the family much longer than I have and it can be a little intimidating.  Please don’t misconstrue my social awkwardness for anything other than it is……

So….let’s call a peace treaty…..let’s love the kids in our lives…..and try to make things a bit less awkward…..I am game if you are. 

B

Mirror Mirror

It’s interesting, really. It’s interesting how living with someone creates a mirror reflecting back the state of your heart, your attitude and…well…..your messiness inside and out.

There have been times in the last three months where I have wished I had an anonymous blog -- one where I could share the grit of my life….the struggles I have…my points of self-doubt and indecision. I have done that in the past in this blog when I was picking up and rebuilding my life….but I have found that it’s a precarious place to share publicly and openly when other people are involved….future spouse, kids, future step-kids. I have struggled with what to share and when, so I have taken a bit of a break to reorganize my blogging thoughts, to look at the future and determine whether the Divorced Diva will still be in existence….and have come to the conclusion-----Heck Yeah!! Even on my journey to become remarried soon…..my divorce (and my 16-year marriage) still shapes my outlook, my relationships, my fears and my desire to have breakfast at 11am on Saturday mornings just because I can.

As I sit here typing on my couch, overlooking mismatched shoes on my living room floor, yesterday’s coffee cup on my coffee table and a stack of torn magazine pages containing recipes, ideas, and pretty pictures, I feel a sense of guilt. Guilt because I have been home for three hours and have done nothing but check email and watch Gray’s Anatomy. Now don’t get me wrong, I am not a bon-bon eating, tv watching couch potato…..that is not where I live….but I do visit there from time to time. It’s easy to appear neat when your man comes to visit from time to time, but it’s quite another thing when they share an address……..suddenly, those shoes that I hide at a moment’s notice remain on my floor…..my makeup is all over the bathroom counter and my dishes are still in the sink. The Man has stepped up to the plate. He cleans up after himself, he does dishes, he helps out around the house….it’s every woman’s dream…..that is….until he asks “can you hang that up?” Whoa….what?? You mean you can see my stuff?? My Klingon cloaking device no longer works now that we are engaged?? You can actually see my stuff??? Defensiveness rises up….excuses stream out like a burst water pipe. Deflect--deflect……well…..what about the fact that you left your water glass on the coffee table??? Huh?? “You mean the one next to your coffee cup--s???” Mayday… mayday…..I’m shot…I’m going down…. Parachute comes out and I descend the stairs to the safety of my couch. But then….there he is……wanting to talk.

Talk?? In the olden days we had our own homes….our own space…..so if I felt a little….well…hormonal…..I could just make up some project to get done at my house, give him a kiss on the cheek and offer to bring over dinner. I can’t tell you how many loads of laundry The Man did at his house that were somewhat suspect----that is, I suspected them of being a smokescreen for space….and a nap….  Now, here we are together…..and all the mess of our lives are here to be seen…both inside and out. We are mirrors for each other---revealing the brokenness of our lives---but also revealing the beauty of those broken fragments….if we take a minute to discern carefully. That mirror has caused me a bit of distress in the last few months…..sometimes I get tired of having my crabby image ricocheted back to me….I get tired of talking about our disagreements….I get tired of having disagreements…… but then I take a minute and realize that he is growing roots - - oak tree roots--and he is not going anywhere. This is his home. He is no longer visiting….coming over for a play date…..he is home….with me. We are home together.

So I will try to keep my mess to a minimum---both inside and out and learn to give more grace when his mirror is reflecting back at him….and understand.

Shiny Happy People

Oh how I love shiny, sparkly things---especially shiny, sparkly things that come in small packages. On Christmas Day, I awoke to the sun shining in beautiful Isla Morada. Christmas is my favorite day of the year……it’s just so full of promise, surprises and creativity. On Christmas, you are literally surrounded by wrapping paper, colorful bows, stockings full of candy and smiling faces. It’s the day of Champagne, Cinnamon Rolls and ham and cheese quiche. The day is simply buzzing with happy energy.

When I peeped my eyes open, I looked over at The Man and said, “Santa was here…..wake up!!!” He groaned a bit and said, “It’s earrrrrrrly.” I wiggled a little closer, scrunched up my shoulders, smiled and said ever so sweetly, “Santa was here!!!!” I was so excited to give him my present that I couldn’t sit still.

Since this was a destination Christmas, the family was simply filling each other’s stockings with no other presents given. The Man and I had decided to give each other simple presents with a dollar limit (although I did have my doubts as to whether either one of us would stay within the parameters). My gift was simple and practical……. something he needed but a little nicer than he would purchase for himself. I bought him a NICE pair of Nike winter running pants and a warm Under Armour-type shirt (he’s a soccer player). After he opened my gift, he said……”I need to get your present.” Suddenly……I am a bit nervous.

He tells me to close my eyes and cover them with my hands. I hear shuffling in the closet and wonder what exactly he is doing. His quiet footsteps stop in front of me and I feel him sit down beside me. Open your eyes. I held my breath…..and willed my eyes to open……and before me is a dark red box with silver lining…..housing the most beautiful ring in the history of rings. I look at it, not sure what to do next…..my heart is racing….unsure but yet completely sure. Now this ring comes with a question. Pause….. pause…pause…..pause……. I feel like a little pooch waiting for a treat……I just might jump up or bark or leave a little tiny excited puddle……I am so very, very excited!!! I look into his eyes and he smiles at me……Will You Marry Me??? Yes!!!! Yes!!! Yeeees!!

He puts the ring on my finger…..it fits so perfectly…..it is so beautiful!!! We hug for a very long time. I wanted to give you this ring today because I know it is your favorite day of the year and I wanted this day to be extra special. Sigh….. We spend the next hour telling each other the deep things in our hearts…..of how we feel lucky to have found each other……of the reasons we fell in love with each other. It was a moment to be savored and we savored every minute of it.

Diary of an Angry Greek Woman

My first encounter with Medea was in the early days of dating The Man. He invited me to a movie, Medea Goes to Jail. He mentioned that this was a continuation of the Medea movie, Diary of an Angry Black Woman. I was *so* excited….I just love documentaries… the grit, the true life stories and this one sounded right up my alley. I pictured Africa…Johannesburg…women marching for equal treatment... When the first preview came on, my excitement came to a screeeeeching halt. *Oh* Tyler Perry is not an artsy indy filmmaker. Um…yeah… The Man kept glancing at me nervously at every punch line wondering, “why isn’t she laughing??” I kept subtly glancing at him, “did he just laugh at that?” Time moved in slow motion - the complete opposite of warp speed - I tried to smile and look cute…feign interest…wishing this movie theater served something a little more potent than milk duds…..

That was my first encounter with Medea. Imagine my surprise this semester when our assignment was to read Medea by Euripides. Tyler Perry just went up a notch in my mind. Medea? There is another Medea? I was instantly intrigued.

It’s an age-old story, really. Girl leaves her homeland…her family…her friends…to marry her hero - the celebrated Jason (as in Jason and the Argonauts). She helps him create his fortune by assisting him in his quest for the golden fleece. She is smart, beautiful, loyal…..he becomes her life….she has his children and is a devoted wife. They are the ultimate Power Couple--the Ken and Barbie of Ancient Greece. With her brains and his ambition, they can go places. That is…..until he traded her in for a new model….young, cute…..and a princess to boot. I can picture their conversation in my mind…..Medea: “But I got you where you are today - it was with my help that you succeeded.” Jason: “I would have succeeded with or without you…you really didn’t do that much to help…it was by MY hard work that I got where I am today.” I see Medea standing there….hearing those words that tore her heart….pleading with her husband to stay…not to abandon their long marriage. My heart starts to pound…my blood is reaching its boiling point…. Jason: “and just think…..it will be much better for the kids…..they will have little brothers and sisters who will be heirs to the throne….think of them for once…think of the opportunities it will give our children.” annnnnnd the Waterford crashes into the living room wall. I wonder - is he related to my X?? Early ancestor, maybe?? Jason: “I am sending you away - but you’ll have a nice house.” CRASH! Jason: “Why can’t you just accept this? You are so difficult!” CRASH- CRASH-CRASH-CRASH!!! Sister, I am there!! I am there in spades!!

Medea is devastated, hurt, angry, and alone. She has lost her husband, her friends, her house, and her lifestyle. She is one angry woman. She plots…plans….and manipulates her circumstances in order to bring him pain. She becomes a woman obsessed with showing the world how much he hurt her---to show the world what a bad father he is--to show the world that she is right and he is wrong. He was unfaithful not her….why is she being punished? She wanted to work on the relationship--he didn’t….the world needs to know that Jason…the revered Jason is a fraud. Medea looks for the way to cause him the most pain - - and she finds it….through his children.

In Euripides’ story, Medea plots to kill her children. I would be hard-pressed to find any woman willing to stoop to that level to cause their X’s that much pain. However, quite often I see women (and men) attempting to kill the relationship between their children and the other parent. It’s so subtle….a comment here and there about how unreliable they are, about their financial support, about their new girlfriend. I see them scheduling play dates, family outings, or girl scout meetings on the other parent’s weekend. She ignores simple, reasonable requests. She brings them late or picks them up early…..and visitation becomes a hassle in the children’s mind. Mom is happy because she feels vindicated because the kids chose to stay with her during Dad’s time.

I understand…..I am there sometimes….pick me not him….pick me not him!! Sometimes I just want to push the X off his pedestal like a kid playing King of the Mountain. Just one push…one quick hard push…. Why should he get to be the good guy?? It’s not fair!! I work hard to be a mom. I make the difficult decisions. I sacrificed for my family…stayed home to be a mom instead of finishing my degree and starting a career. But here’s the thing - kids need their dads and their moms. My new mantra is, “they are an X for a reason.” What he does now isn’t part of my current equation - he is my X-husband…..but he is not my kids’ X-father. He may not keep his house the way I would keep my house (holy cow, it would involve a bulldozer), he may not keep the children accountable like I would (just call him Mr. Cha-ching) and he may not date women I think are appropriate (I would prefer they be actual grown-ups) :)  but he is still their dad and I need to give their relationship the utmost respect.

Your kids may never see how he wronged you….how much he hurt you….how you are the superior parent. To be honest, although that is a gratifying thought, it’s not a healthy thought. Part of me wants my kids to see it, but part of me knows that if and when they do, they are going to experience my pain, feel my abandonment, and mourn the daddy they once knew who has now fallen off his pedestal. It’s not worth it. My vindication is not worth my child’s heart.

Just walk away knowing that he is an X for a reason…..and whistle a happy tune.

The Script

I was watching Must Love Dogs the other day with John Cusack and Diane Lane and the male lead character (boat making-man) makes a comment that women write a script for men to follow and if somehow they go off script, they are “out”….gone….kaput. Now, I have seen this movie several times and every time I hear that line, I am like……”whatever..”…..that is….until this last time. Listening to those words brought back a memory of a recent discussion the Man and I had.
The Man had offered to help me with a few yard projects over Labor Day weekend (I know----he’s amazing!!!) but, quite honestly, I was a bit skeptical of whether or not he would actually follow through. Now….I do want to give a disclaimer….The Man has always come through for me (unless catastrophe strikes) and any part of me that has skepticism comes from my feeling of being last on the list in my marriage. It’s a knee-jerk reaction for me at times, but I am working on it. 

I had to work that Saturday morning and we had plans for the evening, hence time was short for such a large project. The Man offered to come over in my absence and create the flower bed taking out all of the grass around my newly planted hostas, lilies, etc. Yay!! I was so excited!

Well….excited for a little bit. I wanted to remind him……OMG I was like a crack addict I wanted to remind him SO bad! I just knew he would forget….was banking on it!! My heart started beating a bit faster….I checked my phone….no word from him that he was at my house. I know he is going to forget….get busy…hang out…whatever and decide to do the project another day. I literally started getting upset, “he knows this is important to me…I knew he would forget.” So I waited…..and waited...and my recalcitrance to nag became an attitude of, “if I am important, he will remember.” My worries and more importantly, my expectations of him not coming through sent my heart rate through-the-roof!!

I get in the car, hands shaking, writing the “speech” I am going to give him when I get home and he is not there. I am going to call him on his cell--all aloof like I don't care about the stupid flower bed....  I wrote the entire speech…..and then wrote his response to my speech and my response to his response. By the time I got home, I was totally ticked! Why?? Because I wrote the script - cast the characters, plot, motives…the whole nine yards. I walked through my door ready for battle and saw my sweaty man…drinking a glass of iced tea and I would like to say that I melted. But quite honestly, it took me a few seconds to gather up my emotions inside myself. He looked at me, smiled and said, “you thought I would forget.” I said, “yes, I did.” The Man replied, “I will always come through for you, baby.” And it was then that I melted.

Moral of the story: Throw away the script! Shred it!! Burn it!! We seem to think that if we control the plot or at least know what is going to happen that we buffer ourselves from disappointment. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Remember the last time you wrote your script? Remember?? When your self-fulfilling prophecy came to pass, you (that is…..if you are like me) probably said to yourself, “I KNEW IT!” By setting your expectation of disappointment early, the fire of your discontent is at full swing by the time the act actually happens. You have fanned the flames of anger preemptively. By scripting it all out, it makes it easier to check out because you are disappointed, to withdraw emotionally….to create a situation where the punishment doesn’t jive with the offense….a situation where the other person comes into play after you have been stewing on it for hours, days, weeks….and they ask what the big deal is (not knowing that you have been ticked off preemptively for hours now). Baby, that script ain’t no good--ain’t no good at all!!

If you must write a script, create the expectation of love and respect...of kindness and compassion.  Treat them as the people you hope they will be - expecting good things.  Buck Brannaman once said at a horse clinic, "treat your children as if they are already who you want them to be.  Treat them like they are intelligent, respectful, responsible and they will become intelligent, respectful, and responsible.  If you treat them like that are irresponsible, dis-respectful and stupid, that is what they will become."  The word become is crucial.  We are all on a journey...on our way to becoming our best selves.  Remember that the next time you get out your pen and start writing that script.  Just wait and see what happens and go from there. 

Picnic Fame

My love affair with the picnic began when I was a small child, when we would make pimento cheese sandwiches and cookies, throw them in the ice chest with some cokes and head to the lake for the day. Later, as an adult, I was introduced to a whole new level of picnicking at Symphony on the Prairie…..what I affectionately call frou-frou picnicking….with real wine glasses, serving bowls, cloth napkins, candles, cheese boards, and a beautiful spread. I adopted the practice of frou-frou picnicking with gusto….developing my own picnic style….finding accessories along the way….baskets, cheeseboards, wineglass holders for the lawn….

Last year, the Man and I decided to take our frou-frou picnic to the infield of the Indy 500. I had always sat in the stands for the race, but was intrigued with the idea of a day-long picnic watching pretty cars go by at 200 miles per hour. Now the Indianapolis Motor Speedway doesn’t allow glass containers, so we had to get a bit creative. I tend to be a *bit* of a wine snob, so boxed wine was out of the question. The Man and I wandered up and down the liquor aisle until we found it…..a box of pre-made margaritas. It was small enough to put into my small cooler so we were set!! We put my pink-striped tablecloth in the picnic basket, along with my amber polypropylene margarita glasses and a deck of cards and created our picnic fare. We cubed gouda and cotswolds cheeses, stirred up some fresh guacamole, rolled up roast beef and cheese pinwheels, and made our famous Tunisian Cous-Cous Salad. Since it was quite toasty outside, for dessert we made a fruit salad with strawberries, Marscapone cheese, and walnuts. It was a feast fit for a king!!!

At the track, we found the perfect picnic spot halfway up the berm on Turn 3. We spread out the pink tablecloth (please don’t judge him for the pink…..he was just makin’ me happy!), arranged our fest just so, and poured ourselves margaritas. Life is good!!! A voice behind me shouted, “are those champagne glasses?”

Read the rest of the post on recipe lion:  http://blog.recipelion.com/guest-post-picnic-fame-from-becky-p-divorced-diva/

Do I Look Chubby???

So last night, The Man and I had a conversation that went like this:

Becky: “I just saw a photo tagged of me on Facebook - I think that outfit made me look chubby…..why didn’t you tell me it made me look chubby??”
V: “I couldn’t tell you that”
Becky: “Well…..do you think I am chubby?”
V: “Do you think you look chubby?”
Becky: “I want to know if you think I’m chubby.”
V: “Of course not - but the question is whether or not you are happy with yourself”
Becky: “Is that code for saying I look chubby without having to tell me?”
V: laughs “No….it’s not code….can we change the subject?”
Becky: “But I want to know…… Would you tell me if I was?”
V: “Babe, this is a no-win for me…..there is no way I would tell you that….I think you look fine.”
Becky: “But you just said that you wouldn’t tell me so how do I know you aren’t lying to me right now?”
V: “Okay, I won’t lie to you - I think you look good.”
Becky: “So would you tell me I look good if I didn’t?”
V: “No, I wouldn’t……hey….let’s watch an episode of The Closer.”

Did I really want my man to tell me that I looked chubby??? Hell-to-the-no!!! I felt a little insecure after seeing the photo and wanted some assurance that I was still attractive to him. The difficult part is that I want authentic assurance…..to know that what he is saying to me is indeed true…..a difficult thing in his perspective because we all know that there is only one truly acceptable answer…..yes…..or change the subject.

I know that I’m not in the shape I was in when we first met. After my partial hysterectomy, I gained a considerable amount of weight (now pushing 20 lbs). (Don’t you love it that I can blame it on the surgery…..and not my love for food and recalcitrance to exercise). When I stepped on the scale this morning, I let out a gasp 150!!!!!! OMG!!!! OMG!!! OMG!!!! Just last week I was hating 144….and the kicker is that I WAS GOOD!!! This is week four into my re-initiation to running and I feel strong. I have cut WAY down on simple carbs and have been watching my portions. I have even cut back (somewhat) on the consumption of calorie-laden alcoholic drinks. What gives????? I am back to the weight I was in 2004 when I discovered the X’s affair. He always told me I was sexy and beautiful…..and then slept with my friend who could be a Victoria Secret model…..tall…..thin…..beautiful…..grrrrrrr…..

As I laced up my Rykas to go on my run, I felt strong. I reminded myself to not grow weary in doing what is right because in due time I will be rewarded. I rededicated myself to continue with my good habits and not fall off the wagon into fields of chocolate ice cream. The Man is right…..it’s all about whether or no I want to make a change….not whether or not he thinks I should make a change. I just need to be consistent….I did not gain the weight in a month, (as a matter of fact, I coasted at the same ideal weight for about six months before it started creeping up) so I will not lose it in a month. *sigh* I am so impatient.

But for me….for now….I’ve gotta just keep on truckin!

Paintbrushes and Vision Boards

One thing that kept me sane during my divorce was the promise of an opportunity to paint my life the way I wanted it……to use bright colors and hues……to be bold and creative…to create a living masterpiece. I have a coffee can full of paintbrushes…small and large…heavy and light…to paint my life. Lately though, the thought of my life portrait has been making me a little……well….crazy!!!! I can do anything I want, be anyone I want to be…..my kids are grown and out of the house so I have the time to pursue the things I love...wine…. cheese…. art…. chocolate…..good books…. outings with friends….so what gives??

The question that looms in my mind is, “what if the picture I paint doesn’t turn out just right…what if I draw it wrong, use the wrong colors?” “What if what I think I want right now isn’t what I want.” “Do I even know what I want??” I feel like a 6 year-old saying I want to be a princess when I grow up….I want to live in a mansion on the beach with horses and a shiny new bike…..I want to ride elephants in India and dive for pearls in Tahiti…..and be a professional ice skater. For a girl who was raised to be decisive, my life right now is anything but.

Part of the issue is The Man and I have been dating for almost a year and a half. I can’t dodge the, “is it serious?” question anymore because….well….it is serious. I kindof like him and could see him around when I am 80 and chasing monkeys off my back porch in Thailand. Our relationship has brought back the feelings of being rooted and settled….of hanging out on the deck at night instead of having a glass of wine at a bar….of kids and family and household chores….but that question of how I am going to paint my life looms in the background….I have to share my painting….am I okay with that?? What if we hate each other in 10 years?? What if we love each other in 10 years and are stuck in a rut?? What if….what if….what if?? It’s maddening!!!!!

This morning, I went back to my vision board to see what I envisioned for 2010. Every January, my girlfriends and I create a poster-board of our vision for our lives in the coming year. We hang out, cut pictures out of magazines, talk, share, and create our vision for the year. Some ladies keep all of their boards, but I throw the previous one away to keep the focus on the current year.

Looking at my vision board, I see lots of words:

Reimagine Yourselves as Weekend Connoisseurs**Have Cheese, Will Picnic**Living the Unexpected Challenge Yourself **May the life within you be strong**LIVE!**12 Months of Good Health
Acts of Friendship**Savor**Dance**Difference**A killer Pair of Heels**SOUL

and lots of images:

Pancakes, outdoor dining, beach chairs, terracotta pots, fruits and vegetables, picnic baskets, journal writing, farmers’ markets, friends having coffee, margaritas, canned tomatoes, a rolling pin, books, serene backyard scenes

When I look at my vision board for 2010, I was surprised. I am not waiting to paint my life….deciding what it should look like…..it’s already here….already complete….the masterpiece of my heart. The life I really want is now and I am already living it. I look at my vision board and breathe. It’s not about the big master plan it’s about living each moment as I want to….adding beauty and sparkle to the every day. I don’t have to choose…..I just have to live….to be myself…and savor the moments that make ordinary life special.

Friendship is a Journey

The Man and I went home to the great state of Arkansas, the Natural State, the Land of Opportunity, Hawg Country, the state that holds all of my childhood memories in her hands. Both of our trips to my childhood home have been short and I have had to pack every memory I want to share with him into a scant few days...going to Lake Ouachitia (via boat and via meandering raft), wandering the farms of my grandparents, and eating my favorite Arkansas Cuisine (Stubby’s Barbeque and Catfish from Cajun Broiler). On this trip, we planned a visit to Petit Jean Mountain (subject of a previous blog about needing adventure). Petit Jean has a stunning view of the Arkansas River Valley were one can see for miles. Petit Jean also has a stunning hike to a waterfall, Cedar Falls. http://www.petitjeanstatepark.com/things_to_do/trails/cedar_falls.aspx

It was a beautiful day - not too hot and not too humid. The Man, my little Chickadee, my Mama and I embarked down the trail. Now, I say the words trail with a bit of hesitation as there were times when the “trail” was simply a stretch of large rocks to navigate, creeks to cross, and boulders to go around. Here in Indiana, if there is a sign that warns wannabe hikers that the trail is strenuous, you know that it has a bit of a hill grade. This trail, however, took strenuous to a new level!!! The Man at one point thought that Chickadee and I were out of our minds when we took shortcuts down the side of the mountain…..but I was home and I was happy!!

As we hiked down the mountain (and pondered our hike back UP said mountain), we kept an eye out for each other...stopping to give a hand to ensure no one slipped and looking for the best way to navigate large rocks, muddy trails and steep inclines. Sometimes Chickadee would lead, sometimes Mama would lead and sometimes the Man and I would lead chit-chatting along the way. Occasionally, one of us would go their own way for a bit (I just had to cross the creek instead of taking the rickety bridge across) and we would meet up again. We warned each other of impending danger...watch that poison ivy! Don’t put your hand between the rocks when you go down!! There might be snakes!!...and we took pictures at every opportunity.

From time to time, a woman would stop me and inquire about my choice of hiking attire. I had on a cute pair of black shorts, my Josef Seibel leather sandals (they are soooo cute and practical as they have excellent grips on the bottom and flexion - I wore them through Greece and Turkey) and carried my cute leather clutch from ReFind (a girl needs her purse). Now, being an experienced hiker, I understand the principles of good hiking shoes/socks/gear and am not in any way advocating unsafe behavior, however, I have hiked up Vesuvio in Naples watching Italian women going up the side of the volcano in short skits and stilettos…even the elderly women were wearing heels….but I digress. It gave Chickadee great pleasure to watch these sweet mother hens clucking away at my poor choice of attire, reminding her of all the times I fussed at her for shoe choices (although I still maintain that plastic flip-flops are shower shoes and should only be worn in the most casual of situations)….. Chickadee smiled her brilliant smile knowing that her mother is definitely, “one of a kind.”

What I enjoyed most about our outing was the ease of our interactions. We accepted each other as we were--limitations and all. We helped one another without judgment and offers of help were gladly accepted. When The Man presented his hand to help me up a rock, it was gladly received even though I am quite capable of scaling up the side of a rock. When Chickadee and I had different approaches to navigating the boulders to get under the waterfall, we allowed each other space to do so while keeping an eye out for danger. That’s what friendship is all about….being fellow hikers on the journey of life. Friendship is about allowing the other to take their own path (even though it may be different for a moment) and still helping them out (even if their path turned out to be a mistake). Sometimes in friendship, you get to stand underneath a waterfall and enjoy the majesty and beauty of it all and sometimes it’s the hard work of climbing to the top over rocks and trees and steep, slick paths. Our destination was the waterfall, but our journey did not stop there.  We had to do the hard work of going back up. It would have been nice to set up camp at the waterfall...to stay in that place of beauty forever…..but we had to keep moving….had to get back on the daily trail of life (and of course, look for our next adventure).

When I got divorced, I realized how important friendships are. I changed zip codes and began to rebuild my life...a life full of beauty and adventure, of being seen and being known, of new friendships and new horizons. The friendships I made are invaluable to me…but to make those friendships, I had to allow myself to be open to new people and face my own fear of being rejected by them. It is only in openness that friendships can grow. My girlfriends (and guyfriends) have helped me to soar to heights unimaginable three years ago.

So Here’s To the Journey!!! The journey is what it is all about.