Stay or Go Away

To know when to go away and when to come closer is the key to any lasting relationship. ~Doménico Cieri Estrada


Since I started this blog, I've written a few posts about my boys. Not many, mind you, as this is a place for me to write my thoughts and practice my writing and is not a mommy blog. I have not written any posts about my husband. Other than maybe a few passing comments, I've barely mentioned him. However, when I read this quote, I immediately realized not only how true it is, but how much it applies to our relationship. Maybe this is odd, considering that I might seem like the kind of person who has to be close to the people I love all the time, but it is true. I thought that today, on the thirteenth anniversary of my very first date with my husband, I should at least say something about "us."


My husband does not need me and I do not need him. This is not to say that we don't love each other and don't want to be together. It's different. Ryan is the first guy I ever dated who did not make me feel smothered. Other guys called too much or were too needy. Other guys made me feel like I was going to go crazy trying to avoid them because they always had to be around or be talking to me. Ryan, not so much. Ryan did his own thing. Ryan made me feel wanted, but not needed. Sometimes it is nice being wanted, but not needed.

I'm not suggesting that I have relationships all figured out or that my relationship is perfect. Every person has their flaws, and therefore, it is impossible for any relationship to not have flaws. All I'm saying is that having our own time and our own things seems to contribute to the healthfulness of our relationship. And the conscious decision to want to be together, yet not need each other, is one of my favorite things about the man I love and me.

More People to Love

I know I mentioned briefly in my very terrible first post of the new year about living more and the article I read that inspired the sentiment. This is something I have thought about off-and-on as different conversations or situations have made me more aware of it, but something about reading those stories all in the same article grabbed my attention. The older you get and the more people you meet or the more people who are added to your family (yay for new nephews!), the more people matter to your own life and happiness. The more people you love, the more people have a piece of you.

I know there are a lot of very responsible people and for most of my life I considered myself one of them. Over the past few years, I've become much more a live-in-the-moment kind of person. There are too many stories of people who have had their futures taken away or derailed by some unforeseen event or circumstance for me to worry so much about planning for the future. I am not advocating being completely irresponsible, but I am saying there are some moments you can't get back. I will never be in my twenties again. I am so glad I got married, had my kids, built a house, and got a tattoo when I was in my twenties. What would have been the benefit of putting off those things?

I know I am rambling here, but I just keep thinking, "Who is guaranteed tomorrow?" Really. There are things that you can't go back and do. And I don't want to be one of those people who puts off everything until I can afford it, but by then I am unable physically or emotionally to do the things I want to do. I want to enjoy the people who are important to me. I want to be a person people want to be around (despite that I love having my own time and space). I want the people I love to know I love them and to know they are more important to me than any job or retirement plan or "someday" dream. I want to know that no matter what happens in my life, the people I love know I love them and know that I enjoyed my time with them. And know that I don't regret any of my live-in-the-moment times, regardless of how crazy or silly they may have seemed at the time.

Placeholder

Today was completely insane. I had a ton of errands to run, I drove all the way to Cuba and back, and I had a fun bash at my house tonight. I am way too tired to finish the post I had started for today, so this is a placeholder until I can finish it tomorrow and post it here. Yes, I do think it is okay for me to make up the rules as I go.

Hopes and Dreams 2010 Style

"I made no resolutions for the New Year. The habit of making plans, of criticizing, sanctioning and molding my life, is too much of a daily event for me." -Anaïs Nin

What an insane end to 2009! I spent most of Christmas day in the hospital waiting for my sister to give birth to my highly anticipated new nephew. He was born at 10:28 PM on Christmas day. I know I have another nephew and five nieces, but there was something special about this one. This nephew lives close enough for us to see him a lot and is the son of one of my very best friends and her wonderful husband. It was odd spending most of the day away from my boys and my husband, but I am so glad I was able to be there. Micah Ian is a beautiful baby and I might be just a little bit proud of him and my amazing sister. Can ya tell?

In other news, I did not make a official resolution for this year. The closest thing to a resolution is my commitment to write-every-day-in-January. I've tried other write-every-day months and managed to do pretty well, missing only two or three days. We will see how I do with this month, although it would be great if I actually had a post for every day come January 31. Other than that, I just have some things I hope I am able to do or accomplish in the coming year. And..... ta-da! Here they are, in no particular order:

Pay down some debt - I have a lot of debt. College is not free and we built a house before we paid off our student loans. Some may say that is foolhardy, but I would remind those people that we are not guaranteed tomorrow. I would rather enjoy the house I love with the people I love now, than save my entire life and end up dying before I live in a place I like. Priorities people. I have good life insurance.

Live more - I was reading an article in Reader's Digest about people who have become caregivers to their family or friends. I realized that at any time I could need the care of my loved ones or have a loved one become dependent on me for care. I realized that I should enjoy all my free time to the fullest, as I never know when it will end. 2010 is my year for living and enjoying the time I have.

Stop worrying about work - Work has really been stressing me out a lot. Office politics totally suck, my boss is super-stressed from all the pressure he is getting, and my job alternates between insanely busy or insanely boring. But, at least I have a job and there is absolutely nothing I can do about the people higher up. I need to just focus on doing a good job and not worry about the rest.

Read More - Oh my goodness... this is a huge one. I have a stack of books next to my bed just glaring at me for never reading them. I have to read all of them this year.

Ignore the "experts" - I know it's stupid. but I often read my Parents magazine or articles online and stress about all the ways I'm failing my kids. Well... all these people giving advice either have robots for kids or have never actually met a child. I need to stop stressing about what other people say and just parent my boys in the way that works and makes the most sense to me.

Lower my expectations - I know that sounds terrible, but I think part of why I am so stressed or frustrated with other people or annoyed with myself is because I have stupidly unrealistic expectations. People screw up and don't do what you wish they would. That is just part of living in this world and caring about people. Just love them and accept myself and stop worrying about expectations that go unmet.

I think that's a good start. Here goes nothin'.....

The Trouble with Santa

I never believed in Santa. My sisters and I left cookies and egg nog out on Christmas Eve. We also received gifts under the tree with gift tags that read: 'From Santa.' Yet, I never remember thinking that there was an actual Santa who ate the cookies or left the gifts. I always knew it was my mom and dad. I don't think anyone ever told me Santa wasn't real, but my parents never tried to get us to believe in him. I remember my sisters asking my mom once if Santa was real and she just answered, "What do you think?" In my family, Santa was a fun idea, but not the main focus.

To be clear, I have nothing against the idea of Santa. To me, Santa just stands for the spirit of giving and the enjoyment of giving and receiving gifts. I don't see anything wrong with promoting this spirit. I do, however, have a problem with going out of my way to perpetrate a lie to young, impressionable minds. And therein lies my problem with Santa. Of the very few things on which my husband and I do not agree, Santa is at the top of the list.

In my husband's family, Christmas was all about Santa. All toys received were waiting near the tree on Christmas morning, unwrapped and ready to be played with, as a sign that Santa had just stopped by and left them there to be discovered. Everyone went to great lengths to keep the kids believing as long as possible. My first Christmas with the family, I was warned to not say anything at all about Santa not existing because the nieces still believed. It is not my place to say what other people should or should not tell their children about Santa, but the thought of purposely lying to my own children about this turns my stomach just a little.

So here is my dilemma: What is a confused mom to do? I have never talked about Santa to my kids, but it seems like EVERY PERSON with whom we interact this time of year asks my kids if they are ready for Santa, if they have been good for Santa, what they want from Santa, or any other number of questions involving the jolly old man. On top of that, every TV show the boys watch (with the exception of the amazing and wonderful 'Dinosaur Train') has a Christmas episode seemingly every day about St. Nick. And then, of course, my husband and in-laws constantly talk to the boys about Santa. I don't want to just say to them "Well, Santa isn't real" but I also can't bring myself to tell them he is or talk about him to them at all.

As I've hashed this out in my mind, I think part of the reason I never really "believed" had to do with 'Angel Trees.' You know, the trees with the tags on them with the gender and age of a child in need that people could choose and purchase a gift for. This was a major part of our holiday season growing up. Even the year my dad was unemployed and my parents had to borrow money from my grandparents to make ends meet, we still sponsored an Angel Tree kid (I'm sure they would be horrified to know that I know about the borrowed money, but my parents had apparently never heard the saying "Little pitchers have big ears.") Um... hello? If there really was a Santa, wouldn't he give those kids toys? Why would these kids need us to buy them anything? I love, love, love the tradition of giving to others this way and the 'Angel Tree' is something I've continued with my boys. So... how long before they put all this together?

I just wonder when they find out the truth, if they will question other things we've told them. I don't want to have a conversation where my side sounds something like, "Well, I never believed in Santa, but I let you do it. What? God? Oh yes. God is real. Really. He is." I just don't know. I guess I had always planned to take my mom's approach, but that obviously doesn't work when half the family makes such a big deal of Santa. Luke is already asking how Santa will come down the chimney if there is a fire in the fireplace. He obviously believes.

I guess I just continue focusing on what I feel is important about Christmas -- the joy, the spirit of giving, the time spent together -- and on Jesus, the most important gift of all. And hope that when they realize he's not real, they don't use Santa as a reason to doubt the truth of every other thing we've ever told them.

The Girl with the Red Pea Coat

"Sometimes it's a form of love just to talk to somebody that you have nothing in common with and still be fascinated by their presence." -David Byrne

Note: I totally wish I had thought of that quote. What a great thing to say.

People fascinate me. Well... okay. Some people fascinate me. Some people I cannot understand and honestly do not want to, but a lot of people have something really interesting about themselves. The other day I was at Whole Foods to pick up something for lunch. For the record, the Whole Foods near where I work isn't as bad as some Whole Foods in the rest of the country. (There are hippies who work there, but the area is mostly wealthy corporate men and their stay-at-home wives so it doesn't smell and I've never seen anyone there with dreads. Oh, and also, I don't live near where I work.)

Anyway, I was waiting in line at the Whole Foods deli to get something for lunch and the girl in front of me caught my attention. She was petite and thin, with very short dark hair styled in a black, plastic headband. She had about 8 piercings on her ears, skinny jeans, flats, and a pretty red pea coat. I guess I just noticed her because I was standing there waiting, but I don't know. I was strangely drawn to her. She got her food and left and I placed my order.

I had already forgotten about her by the time I got to the checkout. But as I was getting in my car, I looked up and saw her walking by. She had her deli meal in her hands in front of her, and on top, she had balanced a slice of white cake with white icing and a pastel icing flower. Why did she have that cake? Was she taking it to someone else? Was it her birthday and she had no one with whom to celebrate so she was buying it for herself? Was it a reward for some goal she'd achieved? Maybe she just likes cake? I'm guessing I have little in common with this twenty-something, artsy girl with the cake, but I really wanted to know her story. I really like to learn other people's stories.

Sometimes it seems someone has such a similar story as yours that you are bound to be friends. Then, for whatever reason, you just don't click. There are other people who, as much as they seem nothing like you on the surface, you listen to them and find that you have so much more in common that you could have possibly imagined. I guess that is part of why I love the Byrne quote so much. Learning the story of someone else doesn't make you immediate best friends or even mean you will ever talk to them again. Yet, learning their story does add just a little something to your own experience that wasn't there before. So I guess this is just a reminder to myself. I need to not be so busy and focused on my own life that I forget to listen to what other people have to talk about. I might find something fascinating that enriches my life more than I'd ever expected.

Discontent

It seems like forever ago I wrote my post on unraveling and I really felt like that was the beginning of a journey. That I was going to unravel my life until I made sense of a lot of things. Now I just feel like I'm left holding a huge ball of knotted yarn. I'm not sure if this is just part of the process or if I got off track. I'm not sure if it is my own frustrations, insecurities, and doubts that made this happen or if it is a result of being distracted by circumstances, but I don't feel like it's working out the way I'd envisioned.

Earlier this week, I was reading in II Corinthians 5 in The Message and I came across this:

"Compared to what's coming, living conditions around here seem like a stopover in an unfurnished shack, and we're tired of it! We've been given a glimpse of the real thing, our true home... The Spirit of God whets our appetite by giving us a taste of what's ahead. He puts a little of heaven in our hearts so that we'll never settle for less."

I started this post last week and decided to leave the first part as it was and just continue on from here. The more I've been thinking about that verse, the more I've come to realize that maybe a knotted ball of yarn is okay. Maybe the problem was that I was striving for contentment, striving to feel good about myself. Maybe I was striving to feel like I was doing enough and meeting expectations. I see now how misguided that is.

I'm not meant to be content. This path isn't about contentment or satisfaction. It's about embracing the discontent. It's about pressing on. It's about continuing to pull the string and welcoming the questions so I can explore them. It's about clutching tight to a "live the questions" mentality. And more than anything, it's about realizing that believing in God's promises as I do means I will never be content with the way I am now. I will never be content with settling for less. And that's the way it's meant to be.