Why... ME, myself and I?

I am becoming a victim to my own perfectionism. I am finding myself frustrated in instances where I "should" be more content. For example, when someone else helps me out with housework, instead of feeling grateful, I have an annoying nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach that "that isn't how I would have done it..." or "I should have just done that myself".

I am starting to HATE these feelings; I wish I could "relax and let go" a little bit.

Sigh.

Realizing my shortcoming is a step in the right direction.

Enabling and teaching, with more mess and more time = VERY REWARDING

Mike had recently expressed slight frustration in the fact that "I'm not EVER going to be able to do ANYTHING alone in the kitchen again, am I?"

I reminded him that there are PLENTY of people out there who would LOVE the opportunity to be parents. "You're right!" he said "I guess I waited almost 40 years to get to this point."

True, it would be MUCH faster, easier and cleaner to be able to do things yourself. It does seem to take 10x's longer to get ANYTHING done with a miniature helper. However, we are enabling and teaching our child how to function in the world and it is VERY REWARDING to see him thrive.

As we open the dishwasher door, Sydney comes running at the first sound of clanking dishes. You can point to almost ANY item inside the dishwasher, and ask him "where does this go?" He KNOWS almost everything and is proud to show/tell you where. AMAZING! He's been doing this for more than a month already! (He also likes to help unload it and hand us items one-by-one, pointing to where they go.)

Who would've thought that an 18-month-old would KNOW where you keep a mixing bowl, a collander, a vegetable peeler, a cutting board, a pizza cutter, an egg slicer, an apple corer, a spoon rest or the butter dish?

I ABSOLUTELY LOVE BEING A MOM!

Self-discovery

Sitting here in the quiet house, I just "toured" all of the bookmarked blogs that I visit regularly and came to a realization. I am a different person than I was just a few years ago. In fact, I am COMPLETELY DIFFERENT, but somehow feel "more myself" than ever before!

A few years ago, I was "stuck" in a bad marriage to my high school sweetheart, putting up with emotional and verbal abuse, belittled and made to feel that I didn't matter in this world and unable to make a decision on my own for fear of it being the wrong choice. I found it nearly impossible to live with Jeckyl & Hyde, never knowing WHO would come home each day. And the older I got, the more I questioned if having no children was a wise choice because I feared that SOMEDAY I would live in a nursing home and NO ONE would care that I was there; the thoughts left me feeling so... ALONE! (Thankfully, I had hit the wall and come to the point where I couldn't take it any more.  I came to my senses and faced my fears. I admitted OUTLOUD that I was not happy, despite my false-front for WAY TOO MANY YEARS.)

At that time, I had been interested in card-making and scrapbooking photos from our vacations. To me, I found these activities to be "therapeutic" and a creative outlet that brought me to THE ONLY HAPPY PLACE I could find. Looking back, going AWAY on vacation is one of THE ONLY THINGS I miss from that marriage... an opportunity to see the world on a bigger budget and with more free time; someday, I hope to revisit this place in my life, but this time - with MY WONDERFUL HUSBAND, most likely when we retire. The other thing I miss is that my ex-husband made TERRIFIC BREAKFASTS on the gas grill.... fried eggs (over-easy) on toasted bread sandwiches that somehow picked up WONDERFUL FLAVORS from the grill.

I somehow found the courage to leave, making my parents - and MYSELF - very happy. I found the courage to live on my own for the very first time in my life. (I no longer had to cry myself to sleep at night.) And along the way of finding myself, I found Mike. (Or perhaps, we found each other. Talk about being in the right place at the right time!) 

To this day, I am SO THANKFUL that I met him when I did; he has been THE BEST THING IN THE WORLD FOR ME! After meeting him, I woke up each day feeling like I was THE LUCKIEST GIRL IN THE WORLD and feeling that I didn't deserve to be treated so well. (You know, the way that I had deserved to have been treated all along, but was too young and too stupid to realize.) 

Sadly, nearly 3 years later, I still find myself apologizing profusely and expecting a "blow-up" reaction for the littlest things - like making a wrong turn in the road - because I had been "programmed" that way for many, many years; but then, I remember that I am NOW married to a rational and loving man that almost never gets flustered over anything. He loves me for who I AM!

My old self tried to fit in; to be a perfect wife; to be like everyone else. My EX used to tease me because whenever we went somewhere, I was the one who was NOT dressed like everyone else. I would be the one wearing a sweater and jeans when everyone else (surprisingly) was wearing dresses. And then, on a day that I would wear dressier clothes, everyone else would be wearing tshirts and sweatshirts. He managed a retail store filled with trendy and petite high school kids and he constantly compared me to them; the fact of the matter was that I was an ADULT, not a kid and I had CURVES that were NEVER going to go away - regardless of diet or exercise. He wished for me to be someone that I was NOT. I wore my hair the way my EX had liked it (long)  instead of taking control of my own hair.

The "new me" is comfortable in my own skin. I embrace my wide hips (and was thankful for a welcoming passageway for my son.) Once on my own, I cut my hair short; then, I cut it even shorter! (Thankfully, my husband LOVES short hair and I couldn't be happier with a short pixie cut.) I no longer feel the need to look like everyone else. I am just fine being MYSELF! The "old me" tried to squeeze into the smallest size I could. The "new me" bought bigger pants that fit FOR COMFORT moreso than by the number, with SIZE being the main focus. (And my body is dressed better now for that... all thanks to Mike!)

The "old me" would never leave the house without makeup on. The "new me" rarely wears makeup at all. (My husband actually PREFERS me with less makeup on; he likes me more natural, which is NICE, for me. Being a mom to a toddler, I'm relieved that SIMPLE is better.)

After meeting MR. RIGHT, I made slightly less cards and almost NO scrapbook pages. (Granted, we had moved a few times, planned a wedding, gotten married, gotten pregnant... so, I had PLENTY to keep me busy.)

After becoming a mom, I make almost NO cards and haven't touched traditional scrapbook supplies AT ALL! I feel lucky to download pictures from my camera and have made a handful of digital scrapbook pages instead because it is LESS MESS. (I have since become an avid blogger so that I at least have my compilation of memories.)

The "old me" looked at blogs where I was admiring beautifully made cards. 

The "new me" looks at blogs where I admire the process of documenting LIFE. 

I think that becoming a parent changes your perspective on SO MANY THINGS - and LIFE in general. Now, I have a story to tell... and am MUCH HAPPIER for it!

I just read some excerpts from a book preview online (The Gift of Imperfection: Let Go of Who You Think You're Supposed to Be and Embrace Who You Are by Brene Brown) and liked these: 

• I had rekindled my creative life, reconnected with my family and friends in a new way, and most important, felt truly comfortable in my own skin for the first time in my life. 

• I learned how to worry more about how I felt and less about "what people might think." I was setting new boundaries and began to let go of my need to please, perform and perfect.

• I now see that cultivating a Wholeheared life is not like trying to reach a destination. It's like walking toward a star in the sky. We never really arrive, but we certainly know that we're heading in the right direction.

Perhaps, I will someday look into reading this book... you know, once I have free time for leisure reading again. I really like the title and the message that she is trying to get across though. (And I admit that I do have a strong "need to please, perform and perfect" so, this book is probably a good one for me to read.) PERHAPS, I should add this book to my Birthday Wish List.

Like I said, I am COMPLETELY DIFFERENT now, but somehow feel "more myself" than ever before! AND I REALLY LIKE "the new me"!

You don't bring me flowers anymore....

I am guessing that it is pregnancy hormones that was causing it, but the other night, I was down-right SAD. I had taped most of a movie on television (Where the Heart Is) because once upon a time, I had read the book. After Mike and the baby were in bed, I watched the partially-taped movie with my cats in my lap.

In the movie, the young man had expressed his love for the young woman and she disregarded it.

In real life, I waited A LONG, LONG TIME during dating to tell Mike that I loved him. In fact, I had known him for more than a year before I expressed the scary L-word to him. (I did it in a homemade valentine card where I listed all of the MANY things that I loved about him.) His response to my card and my telling him "I love you" was "Awww!"

Ouch, that ACTUALLY hurt! "Awwww?" That was NOT the response that I had hoped for. Perhaps an "I love you, too" would have been more appropriate! Or at least a "Thank you; this is the sweetest card I have ever received and I can tell how much thought and love you put into making this for me."

Later in the movie, the young man told her again that he loved her and point-blank asked her if she loved him back. Eventually, after a long-pause, she replied NO (which was a lie, but hurtful none-the-less).

In real life, a tear rolled down my cheek as I started to contemplate my husband's love for me. 

I reminded myself that HE was the one who jeopardized his career to be with me, HE was the one who proposed, HE was the one who asked me to be his wife and the mother of his children, HE was the one who married me in a wonderfully perfect wedding ceremony and that HE was the one who wanted to start a family together. So, why is it that HE is the one who never utters the words "I love you." 

To this day, sometimes his response to "I love you" is STILL "Awww!" while it is mostly "I love you, too." When I ask for a hug, I had to specify that he NOT sigh loudly and roll his eyes, but to enjoy those six seconds of warmth and embrace. (I know that I look forward to this daily hug immensely.)

When I went to bed that night, I woke him and asked him to hold me. He willingly complied. He wondered what the matter was so, I told him that I was upset by the movie on tv and that it was probably pregnancy-hormone-related. I told him about the situation and expressed how I know first-hand how badly that hurts when you feel like you're not loved in return.

While he held me in his arms, I waited for him to squeeze me tighter and tell me "Of course, I love you."

It never happened.

I wondered what I was doing wrong that my own husband didn't actually feel LOVE towards me. After waiting what seemed like an eternity, but was most likely just a matter of minutes later, I asked him just that. "What do I need to do to make you love me?"

He casually told me that I was being silly and that of course, he loved me. He also informed me that I tell HIM all the time so, he doesn't have to. (All the Time: Translation= once before bed, daily.)

I wondered "Why don't YOU ever tell ME?" (He has informed me one more than one occasion that I am "a wonderful person" but THAT seems to be the closest he gets to it. He sticks to the [sigh... OK, fine] "I love you, too".)

I reminded myself that my pregnancy hormones were PROBABLY partly to blame for my current state of mind. But it weighed enough on my conscience to come to the surface.

As I lay there, trying to fall asleep, I HOPED that my best friend's upcoming marriage never leaves her feeling this same way; I hope that she is TRULY LOVED and that her man isn't afraid to express it. I went to bed with the Barbara Streisand song "You Don't Bring Me Flowers Anymore" running through my head. 

The next morning, when I called Mike at work for our daily "Good Morning" phone call, he quickly and excitedly said "Good Morning. I love you!" as soon as he heard my voice on the line.

I'll take what I can get... it's a step in the right direction! 

In the meantime, I will continue to get my 6-second hugs and will keep expressing my love for him; my life has been SO MUCH BETTER with him in it and I am forever thankful that I met him!

• • • • •

Today, while I hugged him in his recliner, he turned his cheek when I attempted to plant a kiss on his lips.

"Gee, I wonder WHY I would ever think you don't love me?"

He laughed. (I didn't think it was QUITE as funny.) Smart-ass.

Hormonally charged or getting crotchety in old age?

For years, I have witnessed how "old people" seem to get crotchety in their old age: They talk about yesterday's news and gossip to start new news, often attempting to solve the world's problems. They tell you what they think, whether or not you welcome their advice and somehow manage to say whatever they want. (Growing up, I remember my Aunt Sue saying "I can't wait to get old so I can tell people EXACTLY what I think".) They talk about their health (and the health of others) as if a broken record. Somehow, once you hit a certain age, it seems that you have to re-adjust your life focus to dwell on illness and other people's business.

Being only 33, I don't feel as if I am "old", but I am starting to fear the path of getting there.

Being a VERY happy-go-lucky person, I worry as-of-late how I find myself clenching my teeth and sometimes feeling downright angry. I wonder if it is hormones or plain old "OLD-AGE" setting in.

One of my cats has been irritating the heck out of me by bellowing out loud ME-OWS while the baby (or the entire household) is attempting to sleep. 

I often find myself irritated by messiness and having to pick up after everyone. I have been on a quest to clean, sort and purge, ridding us of "extra junk" that we've been holding onto.

I find myself biting my tongue when I get angry, wishing how I could ask for some help without coming across as "nagging". (My husband informed me that I nag him - like 18 times - to do something, leaving me to question WHY he doesn't comply after the first couple of requests; other than the simple fact that he knows that eventually, I will just do it (the task) myself and save myself the frustration.) I grow frustrated that I have to "ASK" for help; I have to ask for the over-filled garbage to be taken outside and must carefully choose my words so that it is set (specifically) inside the can instead of just outside the door for critters to get into. I am baffled that I have to "INVITE" my husband to help me fold a mountain of laundry or help to clear the table as he often just watches me. 

Somehow, being a stay-at-home-mom has blurred the lines of WHO does what, leaving me to feel as if I am responsible for doing almost everything at home, while he makes the money to pay our bills. (NOTE: I TRULY AM GRATEFUL that he sacrifices so that I can stay at home to raise our child, instead of having him grow up in daycare.)

Perhaps, VENTING this on my blog will make me feel better to get it off of my chest. Deep down, some appreciation for my hard work, leaving an unexpected "love note" or simply telling me that I look nice might go a long way. I am reading "The Happiness Project" and am trying to teach myself NOT to let things bother me so much; also, I am TRYING not to nag as much, which basically just means to stop expecting help, do things myself and bite my tongue, yet give praise in the event that I do get a little outside help.

[[DEEP BREATH]] Duties call... baby is awake. (Thankfully, I managed to sneak in a shower.)

KR turns 21

Kristen turns 21 this weekend! (Gosh, that makes ME feel old....)

HB Dolly

I have been busy organizing and sorting lately. I have now purchased and assembled a paper rack with drawers that will house my 12x12 scrapbook papers BY COLOR, as well as some paper scraps. In an attempt to use up some of my scraps, I made this card for Dolly's upcoming birthday.