Tag Archives: personal

Day 7: Your opinion on cheating on people

And here I was complaining about lightweight questions just a few days ago. Ask and ye shall receive.

Frankly, my opinion on cheating on people is that it’s reprehensible bullshit. I think it’s awful even when you’re dating and not married; I hate when people say “Oh, they were just dating.” If you’re in a committed relationship, you should honor that commitment, be it dating, living together, marriage, whatever. If you love your partner, you shouldn’t stray. If you value trust and honesty, you shouldn’t stray. If you respect them, you shouldn’t stray.

Relationships are hard. I call bullshit on the people who say they never fight or even have little disagreements; I believe those are the ones most likely to implode thanks to holding in everything. Relationships take work, and that work includes honoring the person you’ve made a commitment to. Granted, my perspective is as a long-time married. Has our marriage always been easy? No. Have we had some knock-down, drag-out fights? Absolutely. But do we work at making our marriage work on every level? Every single day. We both believe in upholding our wedding vows, and those vows applied to the two of us. No third parties allowed.

Day 6: The person you like and why you like them

I interpret this for what it sounds like: a question on a note passed to a middle-school classmate. For many obvious reasons, Rich is the person I like. He’s been my best friend pretty much since we got serious many moons ago. Over the years I’ve watched him grow and change, as he has with me; I like to think we’ve both changed for the better. In most ways and the ones that really count, at least. I still find him as good-looking, smart, and funny as when we first started dating, but he’s definitely matured. Which is a good thing, especially since it’s expected of humans in general. He’s evolved into a great husband, provider, and (I think) most importantly, a father. He’s also become much handier over the years, a point of pride when we tackle home improvement projects or repairs. He’s also embraced his creativity and pursues his art in a way that inspires me to pursue my writing, although he functions on much less sleep than I can, so he makes much more progress than I do. It’s a good thing I like this guy, since he’s the one I’m planning on growing old with.

Enjoying lunch at a restaurant in Colorado last summer

Day 5: 5 things that irritate you about the same sex/opposite sex

There are so many directions in which I could take this prompt. And the direction in which I choose to take it: 5 things that women do that irritate me. Prepare for some bitchiness.

1. Calling kids “littles” and “bigs”

This drives me nuts. It’s something I was first introduced to reading mommy blogs. And I hate it. Kids are kids. Calling them “littles” and “bigs” bugs the crap out of me. If you need to distinguish, call them “little kids” or “big kids.” Like the rest of the world does. Besides, these are the Littles:

Image found via Google search, which led me to a blog post at OfftheMike.com.

2. Calling every single woman who is a mother a “(fill-in-the-blank) mama”

This is another thing that I first noticed on mommy blogs and which has, to my dismay, spread everywhere. I was fine with Coraline calling me “Mama.” And I’m OK with my friends who refer to themselves as a mama. But it bugs the ever-loving shit out of me when women refer to any woman who is a mother as a warrior mama, tiger mama, fierce mama, scary mama, proud mama, whatever mama. I can’t even tell you exactly why I hate this, but I do. Hate. It.

3. Never leaving work at work

When I used to grab a workday lunch with a group of women, it would almost inevitably devolve into nonstop bitching about work. I have of course done that myself here and there, but some women would do it every single time. It got real old real fast. Now most of my workday lunches are spent by myself with a book or with male friends. Who do not bitch nonstop about work. We instead talk about family, politics, movies, TV, travel — you know, life outside of work.

4. Trashing other women for work, parenting, and life decisions in general

I honestly don’t know why we women do this. Men aren’t trash-talking other men for going back to work after the birth of a child and putting that kid in day care. They’re not criticizing or bullying other men because their wives breastfeed or bottle-feed. They’re not laying guilt trips on each other over work travel. And yet we women do all of that and more. Which I really don’t understand. That’s great if you didn’t have to go back to work after giving birth. Some of us didn’t have that option. It’s not anyone other than the mom and the kid’s business what they’re being fed. As long as the kid is healthy, who cares? If a woman travels for work, she’s a bad mother who ditched her kids. When a man travels for work, it’s expected and he’s a good father for providing for his family. We women need to stop tearing each other down and support each other instead, and mind our own children instead of offering unsolicited opinions on how others’ children are being raised.

5. Making bitchy lists like the one I just made

See: all of the above.

Day 4: What you wear to bed

So far with this challenge, I’m missing the quality of the last challenge’s questions. Maybe these will get more interesting the more days pass. Who knows.

Anyhoo, with regard to today’s super-exciting question, I usually wear mismatched things to bed. Old, ratty Old Navy long-sleeve shirts paired with comfy pajama pants in the fall and winter, old, ratty T-shirts and boxer shorts in the spring and summer.

I do still have my faithful old black sweatshirt. You know, the one we bought in 1987 when we first moved to Tennessee. You could say it’s seen better days.

I’ll throw this away when Rich concedes and tosses his 25+-year-old pillow, which means never. I’ll be buried in this beautiful bastard.

I gave up sewing the cuffs back on every winter. The tattered cuffs have sentimental value, though, since my late cat Yum Yum used to suckle on them while flexing his paws on my side. Weird, I know, but it was his bedtime ritual for several years.

I do still dig the sweatshirt out every winter, though. Even though it’s literally threadbare and has huge tears in it — it’s not exactly meant to provide warmth at this point.

Now that I’m a bona-fide grownup, I’ve become more interested in actual pajama sets. So this winter I’ve been living it up in a pair of Star Wars pajamas, complete with long-sleeve top and warm, fuzzy pants. That’s about as fancy as my sleepwear gets.

Day 3: What kind of person attracts you?

This could be a loaded question for this old married lady. Obviously, the answer is someone like my husband: handsome, funny, smart, clever, handy, a good provider, and a great dad. Now, if I were single …

Back in the day when I had those crushes on celebrities that every teenage girl gets, I had a type: dark hair and dark eyes. Think 21 Jump Street-era Johnny Depp. I also like men on the bulkier side versus thin. And tall. A man’s gotta be TALL (Johnny was a very pretty exception since he’s not that tall and he’s never been bulked up). I think as a general rule, I still find tall men with dark hair and dark eyes more attractive than fairer men with light/blonde hair. I told Rich he broke the mold since he makes Casper the Friendly Ghost look tan by comparison, with his pale complexion, lightish brown hair and blue eyes. He’s my very own special snowflake. Also, he helped me make one seriously awesome kid.

As I’ve gotten older, though, looks have become less important. Not that I’m looking or in the market, but I now find intelligence and responsibility more attractive than a pretty face. Priorities change as you get older. And while I find plenty of men attractive (I’m married with decent eyesight, not dead), I don’t find myself attracted to them. Although I do still appreciate a tall, well-built man with a pretty face.

Day 2: How have you changed in the past two years?

This is kind of a general question, isn’t it? I guess the way I’ve changed the most over the past two years is that I’ve given up trying to please other people. I’ve started taking a daily dose of Fuckitall (OTC. And imaginary).

Instead of worrying about what other people think about me, I’ve instead turned my energies to doing what is best for myself and my family. In doing that, I’ve become more patient. Well, specifically more patient with Coraline. She’s a great kid, but sometimes when she is going off the rails about whatever, I have to work hard to not lose my shit with her. I work hard to remind myself that she is a kid, I’m the adult in control, and occasionally she is going to lose control precisely because she is a kid.

I wish I had other great insights into how I’ve changed in the last couple of years, that I’ve become a more Zen person, become enlightened, discovered the secret to total happiness, yada yada yada, but I haven’t. I have, however, learned to be OK with that.

I started 2016 with good intentions, including journaling every day. Then tendonitis hit and, boy, did it hit hard. Any form of writing fell by the wayside since I couldn’t even hold a pen or pencil, and typing was pretty much out of the question (I became a hunt-and-peck typist at work). I won’t get into how the voice assist function on my iPad was essentially a traitorous whore, twisting whatever I said into ever more ridiculous words. I did a 31 day blog challenge back in 2012 and figure the first day of a new month is as good a time as any to start another challenge.

I found this list via a Google search, which led me to Pinterest user Madison Clayton‘s page:

Let’s start, shall we?

Day 1: Weird things you do when you’re alone

It’s not particularly weird, but when Rich and Coraline are both out, the thing I do to take advantage of being alone is listening to music and singing. Out loud. Really loud. I sing LOUDLY without fear of being laughed at, told I “don’t have a singing voice” (Coraline is mean about my singing), or making a dog howl (Mommy misses you, Caleb). Boring and not so weird, I know, but it’s my biggest solo-time indulgence. I may not be able to sing well, but damn if I don’t know the words to countless songs. At least I’ve got that going for me.