here is a logic problem, or rather a bit of logic i have a problem with. my baby fish and both my boys are beautiful. and all my kids look like me. so that means that i am beautiful too, right?
yeah, right.
it's hard to admit that i'm beautiful, especially when i've had so many people reinforce throughout my life that i am not. i know it's something i'm dealing with, and there is probably a part of me that will always struggle to accept that fact, because there was a time in my life that i surrounded myself with terrible people that told me awful lies. and there will always be a nagging little voice inside my head, somewhere deep down in the darkest parts, that will be whispering that i'm really not beautiful, that i'm just as fat and ugly and disgusting as certain people have always said that i am.
for years and years i have been struggling to change my way of thinking. there are some that have tried to help me. my mommy tells me all the time that i am beautiful, but then that evil little voice chimes in and says that she is my mother and she has to say nice things like that. then there is my hubby, he has always said that i am gorgeous and wonderful and the best thing ever. there are times though, especially when i'm having a bad day, that i don't believe him. that i think he's saying such nice things because he wants something. or that he thinks it's what he's supposed to say even though he doesn't mean it. which is especially crazy because anybody that knows my husband knows that he is the definition of sincerity.
so i'm trying to be better, i'm trying to improve my self image. to understand that there are parts of me that i truly do love, and that even though there are parts that i don't like doesn't mean i should scrap everything. i have the ability to change what i don't like, it is my own body. or, if it's something i can't change (like my ridiculously huge clown feet), that i just need to accept that fact and actually be ok with it and move on. no one is perfect, and no one likes every single little thing about themselves, trying to get to a place like that is impossible and i need to understand that.
i need to do this because i've come to realize that i have a beautiful baby girl and i want her to believe that she is beautiful and not think that it is a lie. i want her to accept the body that god and i gave her and understand that she is perfect no matter what. i have come to realize that kids will mimic their parents, and for her to feel beautiful, i need to show her what feeling beautiful is like. which is hard. crazy hard.
a serious bit of truth here: i never wanted a daughter. when i found out during my pregnancy that i was having a little baby girl, i totally broke down. honestly, when i got back from my doctor appointment that day, i woke up my husband bawling and it took him quite some time to calm me down. and then every time i told anyone that i was having a girl after having two boys, their reaction was invariably that i must be so excited to finally get the little girl i must have been hoping for. that sentiment was like being stabbed by jagged rusty knives, because it was the complete opposite of the truth and yet i felt the need to play along instead of launching into a long and complicated explanation. the truth was that i never wanted a girl because i was afraid that she'd be just like me, and i never wanted that for any child. i can remember times in my life where i hated myself so much, where i thought the world was filled with darkness, and life just wasn't worth living. if i have a girl like me, doesn't that mean she'll have all my faults and craziness too? how is it fair to curse an innocent little baby to a life like that? so, while i've always wanted kids, i've never wanted girls. i got lucky the first two times, but my luck ran out with fishie.
well no actually, that's not really true. because she is beautiful and perfect. and i can work to give her the life i never had, the life i always wanted. i have the chance to show her how wonderful the world is, how kind and loving people can be, and how special she really is. she is my chance at a do-over, a chance to make things right. but i know the first step is trying to fix myself, to show her through my own thoughts and actions how beautiful life is. that there is no such thing as a "good hair day," you just have good hair. that everyone looks different, there are an infinite amount of body types and shapes and sizes out there, that instead of trying to get yourself to look like how you think you should look, you should be happy and revel in the individual and unique way that you look. you should be able to celebrate your differences, you should show off your own brand of beauty and style.
i need to show my fishie that all of these things are truth, just as i need to learn them for myself. it's hard to be a girl, even harder to grow up and be a strong and happy woman. being the mother of a daughter is a challenge i never wanted to have to face, because i never thought i was good enough or strong enough or even qualified enough to accomplish it. now though, i'm beginning to think that i might be, and i know people who tell me i am. and i do have the support of lots of loving people. it'll be a struggle, but i think i can make things right this time.
February 28, 2011
February 27, 2011
silver-tongued devils
i might not have the greatest self-image. i consider myself a realist, but maybe i don't actually see the real me. still, i have had people tell me all sort of compliments that i just don't believe are true. random things that are usually the sign that they want something from me. maybe i'm wrong, though, maybe these things are actually true. how does one really know, though? especially when one has been hurt so many times in the past.
i had a rough time of things for awhile. growing up, i was searching for love and acceptance in all the wrong places. i was looking for somebody else like me, somebody else that would actually understand and sympathize, maybe actually think the same and act the same as me. i'm not sure if i could say i ever found anyone that really met my high standards. but i did run across some nice and not so nice people.
the nice people were great, and at times i was comfortable enough to let my guard down, to show my true colors, to reveal the depths of my craziness. the not so nice people were not good to me. the took advantage of my naivety, my desire for acceptance. they told me all sorts of tales, and i believed them all, and they ruined me in the end.
those not so nice people, they would tell me how great i was, or pretty or nice or funny. they would flatter me until i blushed and smiled and thought they were the greatest people in the world. then they'd ask for favors or money or acts of kindness, and i would gladly agree to all their demands. and eventually, when they grew tired of me, they told me what they really thought. they told me how strange i was, how funny looking, how unstable, how stupid. they thought i was a joke, and they laughed and left me.
and so, because of them, i grew more cautious. i used what powers i had to find out all that i could about a person before i would open up to them. rarely did i share much of my true self. and i tried never again to believe in the niceties that people said. most times i would smile and say thank you for the compliment, but i would never take it to heart. i always believed their sweet words held ulterior motives or dark intentions.
to this day i have trouble believing people when they say nice things to me. i think i will always have that little voice in the back of my mind, wondering what they'll eventually want from me, thinking they're trying to pay for favors with pretty words.
i know i have a skewed sense of self. who i think i am and what i think i look like is not exactly real. it's still a shock to see myself in pictures sometimes, because i never think i really look like how i show on film. the real problem comes to light when i think one thing and i have the world telling me something else. that things are not as dark as they seem, that i am doing well or am nice or am pretty or am smart. how do i get over all the mistrust that swirls in my head? how can i start to believe people when they say nice things to me, and that they don't just want something from me in return?
like all of my other issues, i am working on it. slowly slowly, little by little, i think i am getting better. or at least that's what i've been told.
i had a rough time of things for awhile. growing up, i was searching for love and acceptance in all the wrong places. i was looking for somebody else like me, somebody else that would actually understand and sympathize, maybe actually think the same and act the same as me. i'm not sure if i could say i ever found anyone that really met my high standards. but i did run across some nice and not so nice people.
the nice people were great, and at times i was comfortable enough to let my guard down, to show my true colors, to reveal the depths of my craziness. the not so nice people were not good to me. the took advantage of my naivety, my desire for acceptance. they told me all sorts of tales, and i believed them all, and they ruined me in the end.
those not so nice people, they would tell me how great i was, or pretty or nice or funny. they would flatter me until i blushed and smiled and thought they were the greatest people in the world. then they'd ask for favors or money or acts of kindness, and i would gladly agree to all their demands. and eventually, when they grew tired of me, they told me what they really thought. they told me how strange i was, how funny looking, how unstable, how stupid. they thought i was a joke, and they laughed and left me.
and so, because of them, i grew more cautious. i used what powers i had to find out all that i could about a person before i would open up to them. rarely did i share much of my true self. and i tried never again to believe in the niceties that people said. most times i would smile and say thank you for the compliment, but i would never take it to heart. i always believed their sweet words held ulterior motives or dark intentions.
to this day i have trouble believing people when they say nice things to me. i think i will always have that little voice in the back of my mind, wondering what they'll eventually want from me, thinking they're trying to pay for favors with pretty words.
i know i have a skewed sense of self. who i think i am and what i think i look like is not exactly real. it's still a shock to see myself in pictures sometimes, because i never think i really look like how i show on film. the real problem comes to light when i think one thing and i have the world telling me something else. that things are not as dark as they seem, that i am doing well or am nice or am pretty or am smart. how do i get over all the mistrust that swirls in my head? how can i start to believe people when they say nice things to me, and that they don't just want something from me in return?
like all of my other issues, i am working on it. slowly slowly, little by little, i think i am getting better. or at least that's what i've been told.
February 24, 2011
i am obsessed
i used to read all the time. i still own stacks of books that i read through and just couldn't put down. now, i'm not saying they were all great books, though i did enjoy most of them. still, even the ones that i didn't like i couldn't put down. my problem has always been that when i start reading most anything, i need to read all of it. it feels strange to me to read a chapter and save the rest for another time. which i suppose is also why i feel like i have no time to read books anymore, because when i start i just can't stop.
i'm like that with a lot of things, actually. i used to frequent various message boards, but i had to stop when they became too time consuming. or i let them become too time consuming. i couldn't jump in at the end of a long thread or topic. no, i had to read it all from the beginning, even if it was months old and 1000 or more posts long. i had it in my head that i had to read the topic completely before adding my own reply. and then if i actually did say something, i would check back obsessively to see if anyone had responded to me. obsessively like i would sit and refresh the page, just waiting. i eventually learned that i was unable to use message boards in anything approaching a normal fashion, and so i forced myself to stop posting on them. i still read them, but because i'm not saying anything myself, i don't feel the need to check them so often.
i don't know why i become obsessed by things. why i feel the need to immerse myself in something to the point that it takes up all of my time. not just my free time, all of my time, even the times where i'm supposed to be doing other things. a terrible confession here: there was once that i was so wrapped up in checking on an online community that i was actually late to pick up bumble from the bus stop. i consider that the exact moment reality slapped me right across the face and i realized i had a problem.
i do consider myself lucky that i was able to mostly stop. the temptation is there, but i'm fighting it. the temptation is always there, though. before it was books, for awhile it was writing stories. the access to all this information online has given me other obsessions now too. there are people that i've become obsessed with. and with a few mouse clicks i can find out all the information that i'd ever want. so i keep looking deeper and deeper, trying to find out all that i can, i want to know everything about them, read everything they've written, watch every video they've made, check out every organization and group they even mentioned in passing.
and usually, just as quickly as i'm swept up in my obsession, i am over it. i move on to the next thing that catches my eye. now i believe i have learned to be more careful. i know there are more important things in my life that i need to be focusing my energy and attention on. and i'm beginning to understand that it's ok to put the book away for awhile, because it'll be there later. and to shut down the computer, because sometimes sleep is more important than the latest reply. and it's ok to be interested in someone or something, but i need to draw the line at internet stalking.
i'm like a cat with a shiny bit of string. it's my whole world, all consuming. but if i'm not careful in my playing, i might end up running head first into a wall.
i'm like that with a lot of things, actually. i used to frequent various message boards, but i had to stop when they became too time consuming. or i let them become too time consuming. i couldn't jump in at the end of a long thread or topic. no, i had to read it all from the beginning, even if it was months old and 1000 or more posts long. i had it in my head that i had to read the topic completely before adding my own reply. and then if i actually did say something, i would check back obsessively to see if anyone had responded to me. obsessively like i would sit and refresh the page, just waiting. i eventually learned that i was unable to use message boards in anything approaching a normal fashion, and so i forced myself to stop posting on them. i still read them, but because i'm not saying anything myself, i don't feel the need to check them so often.
i don't know why i become obsessed by things. why i feel the need to immerse myself in something to the point that it takes up all of my time. not just my free time, all of my time, even the times where i'm supposed to be doing other things. a terrible confession here: there was once that i was so wrapped up in checking on an online community that i was actually late to pick up bumble from the bus stop. i consider that the exact moment reality slapped me right across the face and i realized i had a problem.
i do consider myself lucky that i was able to mostly stop. the temptation is there, but i'm fighting it. the temptation is always there, though. before it was books, for awhile it was writing stories. the access to all this information online has given me other obsessions now too. there are people that i've become obsessed with. and with a few mouse clicks i can find out all the information that i'd ever want. so i keep looking deeper and deeper, trying to find out all that i can, i want to know everything about them, read everything they've written, watch every video they've made, check out every organization and group they even mentioned in passing.
and usually, just as quickly as i'm swept up in my obsession, i am over it. i move on to the next thing that catches my eye. now i believe i have learned to be more careful. i know there are more important things in my life that i need to be focusing my energy and attention on. and i'm beginning to understand that it's ok to put the book away for awhile, because it'll be there later. and to shut down the computer, because sometimes sleep is more important than the latest reply. and it's ok to be interested in someone or something, but i need to draw the line at internet stalking.
i'm like a cat with a shiny bit of string. it's my whole world, all consuming. but if i'm not careful in my playing, i might end up running head first into a wall.
February 23, 2011
do you want fries with that? or tater tots? or mashed potatoes?
i've held many different jobs in my time. i was a barista and a pretzel roller and gas station attendant, a file clerk and a secretary to a secretary, a "sandwich artist" and an inventory specialist and a wedding registry consultant. most of my previous employment experience included a plastic name tag, and over half had me wearing some sort of head covering to keep hair out of the food. the jobs i liked best were the ones where i worked alone. i can handle customers, i've just never had a job where i really got along with my coworkers (with one major exception of course). the one job, though, that provided me with the most real world experience i've been able to draw from was my time spent as a short order cook.
there i learned to handle the pressure of taking multiple orders, multitasking so everything came out as quickly as possible, and just generally trying to make the customers as happy as i could. it's those skills that i utilize these days as my role as a mommy.
now, i don't think i have terribly picky eaters. and i've been lucky because they actually like their vegetables. it's usually the meat eating that they have a problem with. though each of my boys does have their own silly little quirks.
bumble hates mashed potatoes and gravy. it's sometimes a struggle to get him to eat potatoes in any form. and he has a problem with ground meat, so that means that hamburgers and meatloaf and meatballs and sloppy joes are all things i have to force on him. but any time we go out, he orders a salad. he's even eaten the decorative lettuce off a deli tray. if it's green, he likes it, and if it's raw, it's even better.
now lumpy, he's not so big on vegis. and unless it's a carrot, he won't eat it raw. meat he usually doesn't have a problem with, as long as you tell him it's chicken. a steak, a pork chop, a piece of ham, tell him it's chicken and he'll wolf it right down. with most food, he's happiest if it's well cooked. things like oatmeal and pudding and mashed potatoes he likes because everything is smooth. and if you give him a lunch meat sandwich, no cheese please, he'll eat the meat and give back the bread, sometimes asking for a refill.
i know this sounds like my kids are picky, but really, i think it's just because they're kids. they know what they like and they know what they don't, and they want to stick to things inside their comfort zones. though i can get them to eat whatever i make if i try hard enough. some days though, i'm tired and worn out and it's just not worth the effort to fight about dinner. that is where my short order skills would come in handy.
when making peanut butter sandwiches, it was always crunchy for bumble and smooth with no crusts for lumpy. bumble always wanted extra salt and pepper. for dipping fries or chicken nugget or even carrots, lumpy always wanted ketchup, while with bumble it depended on how he was feeling, though usually he went with ranch dressing. if you give them garlic bread, you have to take the crust off. and if you give lumpy a hamburger, you have to make sure you squish it down really well, or he'll pick it all apart.
my kids sometimes make figuring out what to make for supper a challenge. and it's not like i'll make them a completely different meal if they don't like what everyone else is having. but sometimes i switch up the sides to keep them happy. like keeping a few vegis raw for bumble and overcooking a few for lumpy.
they're really good kids overall. and i know that even if they stage a hunger strike over yucky food, missing a meal won't kill them. i'm their mom, and keeping them happy and healthy is my job, and i certainly try my best. so far, i've lucked out with fishie. now that she's on solid foods, she's happy to eat anything that comes close to her mouth. hopefully, she stays that way.
there i learned to handle the pressure of taking multiple orders, multitasking so everything came out as quickly as possible, and just generally trying to make the customers as happy as i could. it's those skills that i utilize these days as my role as a mommy.
now, i don't think i have terribly picky eaters. and i've been lucky because they actually like their vegetables. it's usually the meat eating that they have a problem with. though each of my boys does have their own silly little quirks.
bumble hates mashed potatoes and gravy. it's sometimes a struggle to get him to eat potatoes in any form. and he has a problem with ground meat, so that means that hamburgers and meatloaf and meatballs and sloppy joes are all things i have to force on him. but any time we go out, he orders a salad. he's even eaten the decorative lettuce off a deli tray. if it's green, he likes it, and if it's raw, it's even better.
now lumpy, he's not so big on vegis. and unless it's a carrot, he won't eat it raw. meat he usually doesn't have a problem with, as long as you tell him it's chicken. a steak, a pork chop, a piece of ham, tell him it's chicken and he'll wolf it right down. with most food, he's happiest if it's well cooked. things like oatmeal and pudding and mashed potatoes he likes because everything is smooth. and if you give him a lunch meat sandwich, no cheese please, he'll eat the meat and give back the bread, sometimes asking for a refill.
i know this sounds like my kids are picky, but really, i think it's just because they're kids. they know what they like and they know what they don't, and they want to stick to things inside their comfort zones. though i can get them to eat whatever i make if i try hard enough. some days though, i'm tired and worn out and it's just not worth the effort to fight about dinner. that is where my short order skills would come in handy.
when making peanut butter sandwiches, it was always crunchy for bumble and smooth with no crusts for lumpy. bumble always wanted extra salt and pepper. for dipping fries or chicken nugget or even carrots, lumpy always wanted ketchup, while with bumble it depended on how he was feeling, though usually he went with ranch dressing. if you give them garlic bread, you have to take the crust off. and if you give lumpy a hamburger, you have to make sure you squish it down really well, or he'll pick it all apart.
my kids sometimes make figuring out what to make for supper a challenge. and it's not like i'll make them a completely different meal if they don't like what everyone else is having. but sometimes i switch up the sides to keep them happy. like keeping a few vegis raw for bumble and overcooking a few for lumpy.
they're really good kids overall. and i know that even if they stage a hunger strike over yucky food, missing a meal won't kill them. i'm their mom, and keeping them happy and healthy is my job, and i certainly try my best. so far, i've lucked out with fishie. now that she's on solid foods, she's happy to eat anything that comes close to her mouth. hopefully, she stays that way.
February 22, 2011
looking back
i want to try to explain something that probably will sound crazy and contradictory. i have been looking through old pictures, some from as long as fifteen years ago. i look at myself and at all the people that i knew, the people that i have lost contact with and the people that i have lost forever, and it makes me sad. i miss the life that i once had. a life full of unstoppable dreams and wild hope and crazy expectations. and yet, i'm not really upset with the place that i'm at in my life right now.
i used to be a wild and crazy girl, believing in magic and happy endings. now i am much more of a realist. now, if i hope for things, it's things i know are possible to achieve. that way there is less chance of being let down in the end. my dreams are much smaller, things that i know can happen. instead of expecting the best and greatest possibilities, i prepare for the worst, because anything can happen, and i've learned not to expect that "anything" to be good.
i used to dream big. but most of those dreams ran straight into reality, and i had to face facts. i grew up and found myself, and came to understand the person i am and the place that i belong. there are things in this world i am not suited for, and i understand that. i know my responsibilities, i know what i should be doing and need to be doing. i don't regret the choices i've made, the life that i've built, but i do miss the surprises that life used to hold.
my life used to be filled with random and unpredictable moments. now it seems i know exactly what will happen on any given day. my life has a schedule, and with kids like mine, we don't stray far from that schedule if we want to avoid melt downs and drama. i love my kids, i really do, but it's not exactly possible to take spontaneous road trips to far off places. it's more important to make sure that they get to school on time, that there are clothes on their backs and food in the house.
i guess i'm just jaded. i dreamed big and lost. now i'm more careful because i'm so afraid of falling again. what i miss the most about the girl i used to be was that i was able to live unafraid. the future was this great big mystery out there, and i was content to explore and wander and figure things out as i went along. but i've been beaten down by reality too many times to live like that any more. i am well aware now that actions have consequences, and i find it easier to live carefully and avoid trouble than to try and live free and recover from the bad things that happen.
if i could ever go back in time and tell my younger self one thing, it would be that i should cherish my carefree days, because once they are gone, they are so hard to get back.
i used to be a wild and crazy girl, believing in magic and happy endings. now i am much more of a realist. now, if i hope for things, it's things i know are possible to achieve. that way there is less chance of being let down in the end. my dreams are much smaller, things that i know can happen. instead of expecting the best and greatest possibilities, i prepare for the worst, because anything can happen, and i've learned not to expect that "anything" to be good.
i used to dream big. but most of those dreams ran straight into reality, and i had to face facts. i grew up and found myself, and came to understand the person i am and the place that i belong. there are things in this world i am not suited for, and i understand that. i know my responsibilities, i know what i should be doing and need to be doing. i don't regret the choices i've made, the life that i've built, but i do miss the surprises that life used to hold.
my life used to be filled with random and unpredictable moments. now it seems i know exactly what will happen on any given day. my life has a schedule, and with kids like mine, we don't stray far from that schedule if we want to avoid melt downs and drama. i love my kids, i really do, but it's not exactly possible to take spontaneous road trips to far off places. it's more important to make sure that they get to school on time, that there are clothes on their backs and food in the house.
i guess i'm just jaded. i dreamed big and lost. now i'm more careful because i'm so afraid of falling again. what i miss the most about the girl i used to be was that i was able to live unafraid. the future was this great big mystery out there, and i was content to explore and wander and figure things out as i went along. but i've been beaten down by reality too many times to live like that any more. i am well aware now that actions have consequences, and i find it easier to live carefully and avoid trouble than to try and live free and recover from the bad things that happen.
if i could ever go back in time and tell my younger self one thing, it would be that i should cherish my carefree days, because once they are gone, they are so hard to get back.
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