baby mcpash.

Over the last year, the SM and I hve talked about the potential of starting a family. We figured someday that we would want mini-me’s, but came to the consensus that for the time being, we were too young and unsettled (read: too selfish) to populating the world with tiny McPashes. But last night, we had a change of heart.

The SM mentioned last night that he is sure now that he wants to have children. With me. I was like WHAT?!?! Who are you? Not all that long ago, he was the perpetual bachelor, talking about eventual commitment but generally leaving things open and preferring to live more like Brangelina than TomKat…but now he wants to go all AshWentzday on me? Now he is suddenly ready to settle in and make babies? He said all he’d worry about is money, but he knew we would be good parents. I was like….all righty, chief. You aren’t worried that we drop inordinate amounts of non-expendable cash on ourselves? You aren’t worried that we aren’t married? You aren’t worried about the effect it will have on our social lives and the relationship between us? You aren’t worried about the 40+ pounds I am going to gain and how floppy and sad my titties are gonna get?

I mean, that is nice to hear. It’s some sort of security and the best thing a girl at this stage of the game can hear is that they are secure. But still. Where did this change of heart come from? One of his colleagues at work and his wife had a precious, healthy baby girl two weeks ago. I think he hears stories everyday and his heart is mush. I think he misses his niece back home in Cleveland. I think (though highly doubtful) he’s finally growing up and realizing that I’m not like anyone he’s dated before. I’m here for a long haul, I’m not a flake and when I say forever, I mean it. And at 35, I guess his biological clock is ticking too. He’s at the point where shitting or getting off the pot is a very appropriate metaphor for his life.

I can’t say it wasn’t a compliment and I didn’t appreciate hearing it, because it was and I did. With so much upheaval in life the last 5 years or so (break-up, moves, houses, jobs), it was a welcome conversation; don’t get me wrong. I had just gotten so caught in the mindset that I was going to have to wait for commitment and making a family of my own, that I was taken off guard.

Is this it? After just about everyone I have known tell me fabulous, romantic stories about getting engaged and planning their weddings, will I finally have the opportunity, sooner rather than later, to tell those stories of my own?

open letter to guys lucky enough to be boyfriends.

Don’t let this be your woman.

Dear Boyfriends:

Evidently, there are some guidelines that need to be rehashed for those of the male persuasion out there so I thought I’d do you all the pleasure of hearing it from me, the sole owner of the “Grumpiest Bitch Of The Day” award.  Lucky you.

Let me preface this post with the fact that I seriously need a big, bold sign reading “Caution: Menstruating Female - Engage at Your Own Risk” around my neck today.  And part of yesterday…and probably tomorrow too.  Part of the reason I am posting this is because of my inherent need to be a gaping asshole and enormous bitch when I’m ragging.  Part of it is because, sometimes, men are totally fucking retarded.

As anybody who knows me in real life, under normal circumstances (remember, Aunt Flo’s up in this joint for a few more days); I am a very self-deprecating individual.  I’ve mentioned it many times before and very little gets under my skin.  However, a few items have been rattling around in this old noggin of mine on the topic of two things that you should never joke with your woman about, EVER, without the fear of losing your daddy bag by virtue of dull, rusty hedge trimmers.  They are as follows:

1)  NEVER joke with your girlfriend about when or if you will marry her.  Whether it’s wrong or right, most little girls grow up imagining their Prince Charming, how they will live happily ever after…and the flowers and dress involved in that ever-afterness.  Most girls out there aren’t in a long-term, monogamous relationship with you because she doesn’t want a commitment.  It’s because she has been thinking of her wedding day in some capacity since she knew what boys were good for. You don’t have to have it all figured out.  You don’t have to want to strap on the old ball and chain tomorrow.  Most of all, it’s NOT funny to watch us squirm.  Its not funny to make comments and watch our minds race and gears churn with doubt.  Fear is not funny.  We will not hesitate to cancel your ESPN Gameplan and you’ll know the knots and sweats of fear, my friend.  Don’t act like you wouldn’t be a balled-up, sobbing mess on the couch, rocking back and forth as you keep pressing the now cancelled channels over and over on your TV.  You ain’t that tough.  Additionally, do me a favor and let’s not be saving up for a motorcycle when you still have credit card debt and a barren, cold left ring finger to adorn.

2)  Under any circumstances, NEVER joke with your woman about her weight.  You love her.  You chose her from the rest of the girls at the bar that night…or the rest of the ladies from your AA group.  Whatever.  Of all people you should love her for who she is, hips, thighs, belly; no matter what.  You need to be her refuge and her rock - her oasis from the harsh world outside.  Every store in the mall, every magazine she reads and every reality TV show she watches makes her feel fat already.  When she goes to the gym, the yoga instructor and the girl next to her on the treadmill makes her feel fat.  Suggest you join the gym together.  Plan a hiking trip.  Play a sport together.  But NEVER, I repeat, NEVER say it’s because she’s fat.  Getting in shape for summer sounds entirely different than needing to lose weight.  I know it’s a game of semantics here, but word choice can be the different between that blow job you’ve been thinking about…or sleeping on the couch in the living room.

The umbrella qualification to this whole conversation lies in one inconvenient truth for you men out there:  If you ever say anything that could possibly be misconstrewn as negative (these specific topics exponentially escalating the situation) while she is in the midst of her period, just succumb to the reality that you have officially bought your own bus ticket to Hell and you are in the front muthafucking seat.  Fully expect the fiery wrath of the woman you thought you once loved that has since left that sweet, tender, feminine body you once caressed.  You will only be debris left in the wake of the monster you have created.  Expect the next few hours of your life (hours if your lucky, days if you’re especially retarded) to be ruined and anything that had once brought you joy, to turn black and shrivel, either figuratively or literally, material things and immaterial things included.  I’ve seen a girl melt an Xbox 360 into a puddle.  True story.  The dude had to be put in a strait jacket and committed.  Just saying.  Your choice.  Choose Wisely.

xoxo,

Raging Hormonal Bitch

the convenience of misery.

I think there is something going on with my parents.  Over the last few months, they have been acting stranger and stranger.  When I call, I only talk to one of them at a time.  They have been planning trips independent of one another.  My dad is a mushball, missing me and working harder than he should at 63.  My mom resents my dad and is miserable in her life.  Yet they still hold their marriage together in the technical sense and just come to me for therapy instead.

It breaks my heart that they are not happy.  They say they are, but I don’t believe them.  Why would I?  My dad either closes off, playing guitar in the garage or watching TV or acts like nothing is wrong when his business isn’t doing as well as he anticipated and money is not coming in like it did 10 years ago.  His ego his hurt.  His machismo is hurt, and rightfully so.  My mom passive aggressively prods my dad and harbors resentment for his decision-making when he is only doing his best to make the life for her that she wants to have.  Maybe he doesn’t go about it the best way, but he’s doing it the best he knows how.

I have said before that I think my parents stay married out of convenience.  However, I am not sure how much convenience can be found in misery.  I don’t know what the ratio is - misery to convenience…what hte threshhold is before you are done bending and finally break.  I am afraid they are staying together for me.  That they don’t want me (or any of their friends) to think they are unhappy.  But with the therapy sessions I conduct each week over the long-distance phone line, while one stays in Houston, the other in Arkansas for weeks at a time, I don’t know what other kind of impression they think I have.  Who do they think they are fooling?  Of course, the the dissolution of their marriage would be hard to stomach and difficult to tolerate.  They have been through a lot together.  But seeing them both keep up pretenses and ignore problems is even harder to bear.

They already slip me money on the side, unbeknownst of the other.  They already plan trips out to see me separately and spend some holidays apart.  They haven’t slept in the same bed for as long as I can remember.  The only difficult part would be how my mother would support herself financially and how my dad would react to an empty house.  And in that, lies the other concern.

Mostly, I am afraid that they are staying together because they are afraid to grow old alone and apart.  My mom hasn’t worked outside the house in over 15 years and has very few, if any, hireable skills.  She has little education and not much to contribute.  My dad, on the other hand, can figure out how to make enough money to live.  I just don’t know that after 28 years of coming home to a clean house, a cooked dinner and a warm body that he’d be able to emotionally do it alone.  When given the chance and ammunition, he can be an incredibly introspective, self-defeating guy.  (I guess that apple didn’t fall too far from the tree, did it?)  He’d be so incredibly lonely that whatever damage those 2 heart attacks didn’t do, solitude in his own thoughts might.  It might kill him. 

I have no idea how to approach this with them if I should at all.  My dad is coming to visit this week, Wednesday, alone of course, and I don’t want to taint his short visit here with seriousness and turmoil.  But it hurts.  A lot.  Especially if they are not being honest with me. 

My parents, due to work, a funeral and all sorts of things, have been apart (in different cities) for almost 2 weeks now.  I ask my mom when Dad is coming home from Arkansas and she doesn’t know and gets defensive when I ask if they had a falling-out.  I call my dad and he says he “has a cold and needs to go blow his nose so he’ll have to call me back”.  And he calls back in 15 minutes, not 2 or 3.  My mom says she misses me, but is saving up money to buy a kayak, not a plane ticket.   My dad cries on the phone because he wants so badly hug my neck, but he rarely calls to catch up. 

It’s just tearing me up inside.  I know they are unhappy with each other, I don’t know how to help or if I can, but its affecting my relationship with both of them to the point that we really almost need some help.  I can’t be their therapist.  I am their daughter.  It’s like I don’t know them anymore, through their lenses and facades and half-truths, and over the miles.  I miss them so much and I just want them back.  The way it used to be. 

tick. tick. tick.

Just spoke with the ol’ Queso yesterday evening, one of my nearest and dearest from middle school until now, and she shared with me the fact that her boyfriend just asked her dad for her hand a few days ago. 

 Of course, I am ecstatic about her news.  She’s one of the best chicks I’ve known and finally found someone who makes her truly happy.  She can be herself…and she has become and even better person with him in her life.  Her heart is bigger, her life is more beautiful, and that is all I want for my friends. 

As I listened to her confide in me about her decisions for the location and how to involve quirky family members in the process, I thought to myself, what a nice problem to have. 

So far, in the last 6-8 months or so, 3 of my best girlfriends have gotten engaged, and two of my new friends here were engaged when I met them.  My boss has gotten engaged.  Evidently, I have an engaged cousin.  All of these people, who I love dearly and couldn’t be happier for have finally settled down, and found someone that they want to spend the rest of their lives with - and are actively planning for that future.

While I have a fantastic boyfriend and I couldn’t be any more certain that some day we will get married, it’s inevitable that all this matrimonial news winds my biological clock a little tighter than I’d like.  I don’t like to admit it, because I AM so happy with the SM and I couldn’t ask for anyone to be more thoughtful or patient or compatible with me.  But still….I’m kind of sad. 

The SM asked me last night and this morning why I was more quiet than usual and at that point, I didn’t really have an answer.  I couldn’t put my finger on it.  I guess it just goes back to that notion of being emotionally secure that I have mentioned before.  I know he loves me, I know he’s loyal and trustworthy.  I know he’ll be here for the long haul and wants to be with me forever.  That should be enough, shouldn’t it? 

I guess I feel like, if you know that much, then you should be able to pull that trigger.  I undersand that money may hinder what we do and how we do it - and I don’t want it next week or next month.  But before I’m thirty?  Yes.  I understand that a lot of things factor in to making that kind of commitment to someone - especially including your secondhand history watching the marriages around you crumble in divorce more often than you’d like.  But it’s up to the people involved if they mean their vows and work to make their marriage something that their parents’ weren’t.  Maybe I’m naive to think that someone can change their future despite their past experiences.  Maybe I expect too much of the human psyche.

My parents are still married after 27 years and often times, I have to question why.  I hear about the resentment and misunderstandings all the time.  They don’t seem happy with each other, have hobbies separate of each other, in order to stay separate from each other and frankly, don’t treat each other like you would treat someone you love.  I don’t want to end up like that; miserable, bored, avoidant and imprisoned out of perceived convenience.  But I still righteously and optimistically still have this hope that I dont have to end up like that.  I can BE married AND happy - it wouldn’t be an oxymoron for once.  But do I have to be married to be happy?

Everyone always says that everything will happen in due time, in God’s time, etc. so I guess in the grand scheme of things, perhaps I am waiting for a reason.  Maybe God is waiting for me to genuinely be content with my life as it is before he gives me anything else.  I must be needing to prepare myself, to make myself whole before I enter into such a serious commitment.  Maybe at that distinct moment that I let the pressure go and quit obsessing, that is when the SM will look up at me from bended knee and tell me, sincerely and finally, that he couldn’t imagine being with anyone else for the rest of his days.  That he wants me to be his lawfully wedded and not just his consistently bedded. 

In the meantime, I’ll have to pray for patience and bide my time.  I am incredibly lucky to have such a fantastic boyfriend in my life that will MAKE such a great husband someday.  I just need to wait.

UPDATE:  I forgot about 2 other friends…one from HS, one from college getting engaged as well.  So that brings the total up to 7 people I know getting married in 2008.

UPDATE 2: The guy int he cube next to me is getting married in August.  Sha-weet.