Five Things on Friday: Valentine Edition

This morning in the car, Brynna looked at me and said, "I'm going to make you a Valentine tonight, because you're not going to get another one, are you?"

I smiled and said, "I've got two Valentines right here."

"Me and Maren?"

"You and Maren. The bestest Valentines ever."

I used to hate Valentine's Day. I don't really have the energy for that anymore. Valentine's is just a day, you know. It's just a day where card companies, chocolate companies and Zales make a mint. That's all.

So, in honor of the day of love, I present:

Five Things I Love About Being a Single Mom on Valentine's Day

1. The Kids - Kids love Valentine's Day because they don't get romance. They love Valentines, they love Valentine boxes, they love Valentine parties, they love hearts and flowers and candy. They really love candy. This morning, my Valentines loved big heart necklaces and strawberry rolls. Tonight they're going to love pizza and Valentine punch. And I love their unfettered excitement.

2. The Lack of Pressure - You know, some people are just good at romance. I am not one of them. My idea of a romantic night involves hot cocoa and pajama pants. Also, I will never remember to text you and tell you Happy Valentine's Day. I'm working here. Didn't I say it this morning? No, I meant to. My point is that every Valentine's Day of my married life was a struggle to not infuriate the Ex with my total and complete lack of recognition that today is a day that people do stuff on.

3. The Lack of High Heels - But even so, there was usually a date. Maybe not on Valentine's Day. In fact, I'm crowd phobic, so it was almost never on the actual day. And I'd get dressed up, because of the pressure and by the end of the night, I'd be limping through Wal-Mart trying to find $1 flip flops because my feet were bleeding. Every freaking year.

4. The Lack of Disappointment - When you're not expecting anything, everything is lovely. My boss bringing me a little box of chocolates. Awesome! The mail man wishing me a Happy V-Day. So sweet! Carry out pizza. Perfect! When you are expecting something, it may or may not live up to your expectations. I don't have to worry about that. Go ahead, envy me.

5. My House - As I mentioned, I'm crowd phobic, so we're going to get carryout, we're going to go home and we're going to watch The Princess Bride. That's it. We're probably going to do it in our pajamas. We're going to have fuzzy blankets and the snow is going to fall outside. It's going to be perfect. Me with the only two people who really matter on Valentine's Day.

Throwback Thursday: Silver Streak Edition

According the my mom, this is 1981. Which makes sense, because look at that coat. Also, look at my mom's shoes. Next time someone talks about "awesome" 80's fashion, just come on back here and check out those shoes.

We're washing my mom's car, which was named The Silver Streak. I cried when she sold it. In my defense, I get really attached to cars. I also cried when she sold this car's replacement.

P.S. I don't know if Throwback Thursday is a thing I'm going to do all the time. Probably not, but it's a thing and I'm going to do it today. You are welcome.

Gut Punch

There I was, mindlessly surfing Facebook, when I saw something that literally stole my breath.

You know how couples have their own language? Not literally, of course, but the things you say to each other all the time. Sweet nothings and inside jokes and silly things.

The words that hold you together.

The Ex and I had a lot of those. 12 years together is a lot of words. It's a lot of inside jokes. Even in the bad times, it's a lot of shared experience.

Today, he said some of those words to another girl.

And I cried.

Not big sobs and hitching breaths. But tears, all the same.

I can say, honestly and sincerely, that I love his girlfriend. I want only the best for them, because she is a lovely person who has been delightful to my children and to me. It's not that I'm angry or jealous or even hurt.

It's just another thing I forgot to mourn. It's a thing that I thought was mine that belongs to someone else now.

One sentence. Not even a real sentence. A fragment. Said at least a hundred times over the years. Something I thought was sacred and set apart. But of course, it's not. That's not how people work. We talk the way we talk and the truth is that inside jokes are one thing, but most of the things we say are our personal language. One person's take on the world, not a couple's.

I'll keep saying the words I say and I'll never think about who else I said those words to, so why shouldn't he? Of course, he should. I don't own those words. It's more like I just forgot those words existed. I forgot.

Because that's part of what divorce is, I think. It's finding little things all the time. Things that belong to him that I forgot I had. Things that he gave me. Things that we made together. And that's all before you add to the mix a word-obsessed girl who loves a good quote.

There's always something left to mourn. Or, at least, two years later, there's still something to mourn. I still have hopes that it'll stop someday.

And I'm not even mourning us anymore. I'm done with that. Was done with that before the papers, maybe even before the separation. I'm mourning a memory. An afterimage. A single moment in time, without all the surrounding moments.

A single good moment.

It's easy, now, to remember the bad times. To remember why it all fell apart. And to be glad. There was plenty of bad and I'm glad that's over. Every day.

It's easy to pretend that's all there was, the bad. But twelve years, people. If it was all bad, it wouldn't have been twelve years.

There was good and for a moment today, I remembered what the good was like and remembered that it's gone, too. That the good goes with the bad.

Is Originality Over-Rated

I've been thinking about this a lot lately. And obviously, the answer is sometimes no. For instance: plagiarism vs. originality?

She had yellow eyes. Yellow eyes. So help me, God,
Yellow Eyes.

But what about Pinterest? See, I am a lover of Pinterest. I am a queen bee pinner. I am made of Pinterest magic. And I don't do as many of my pins as I'd like to, but I do a fair amount. I see things on Pinterest, I think I can do that, and I do. Or I fail horribly. It's a toss-up.

I started thinking about this in the Fall. I went to a Trunk or Treat event and won the decorating contest. I thought my October looked pretty darn cute, so I was honored, but I had pretty much completely "stolen" the idea from Pinterest.

Of course, since the prize was a vanilla candle and a lot of congratulations, I didn't stress too much about being a car decoration plagiarist.

This week, Brynna and I are working on a Valentine's mailbox for her class's contest. And we started on Pinterest. Just for ideas, you know. And whatever we make (we still haven't finished formulating a plan) it won't be a carbon copy of anything we find, but it will be pretty heavily inspired. What if she wins for "Most Original?" Is that okay? Or is it intellectually counterfeit?

And who spends time worrying about stuff like this in conjunction with a fourth grade class decorating contest?

I find myself turning more and more to Pinterest. For ideas, for tutorials. A few months ago, I drove past a hollowed out console television set and immediately did a search on Pinterest to see if I could make anything good out of it. (After arriving. Never Pinterest and drive, friends.)

And I wonder, is this making us more creative? I can see that. As I look at the pins scrolling past, I don't think much about mimicking them exactly, but more about making them my own. Tweaking them to make something that is one of a kind and all about me (or my kids or whoever).

Or is it making us less creative? I can see that, too. Not even bothering to think for ourselves, but just going to Pinterest to see what's there.

Is it any different from using a pattern to sew or crochet instead of making everything up yourself? (If I had to do that, I would never have even learned. And I don't think I'm the only one.)

This isn't going to make any difference in my behavior. I'm a Pinterest addict. Through and through. Just wondering and pondering and ruminating.

What do you think? Also, how crazy am I being?

Five Things on Friday: Owning Edition

Hello, friends and neighbors. Welcome to the TRIUMPHANT return of

Five Things on Friday.

And there was much rejoicing. *yay*

This year has been a bust so far. I mean that. I had high hopes. You know, like you do. But so far, I have completely lost my ever-loving mind. I can't seem to remember anything, I lose everything and I feel like I have accomplished nothing.

That's an exaggeration, of course. In reality, I have accomplished very little.

But I still have high hopes. This is still going to be my year. It just wasn't my January.

And to get there, I feel like there are a few things about myself I have to own. A month ago, everyone and their Aunt Sassy wrote about their words of the year. Well, here's mine: ME. That may sound a little crazy and egocentric, but it's not about being focused on me, it's about accepting what is me. I am many, many things. Crazy and egocentric may or may not be two of them, but it's time to quit trying so hard to be someone I think it might be nice to be and start concentrating on just being who I am.

So, now that I've rambled a post's worth and snuck in part of a post I meant to write in January, but didn't because I only wrote 6 posts in January, I present...

Five Things I'm Gonna Own This Year

1. I like TV - I talk about TV a lot, but I also sort of have this guilt about it. I feel like I shouldn't like TV and a lot of people talk about how terrible TV is. For your brain or your soul or whatever. It's evil and it's the idiot box and it's for people who are too dumb for anything else and you know what? It's not. It's long form fiction. (At least the kind I watch is. Reality show junkies - you are on your own.)

2. I'm a Depressed Optimist - When you are a naturally cheerful person who is always looking for the bright side, it's hard for people to accept it when you say you struggle with depression. Look, I'm going to explain it. Both of these things are in my brain. They are both controlled by chemicals that I cannot explain and don't want to know about. They coexist. I promise.  Get over it. I simultaneously believe that everything will work out and that none of it matters because the Earth is going to careen into the sun eventually anyway. Okay?

3. I'm a Little Lazy - Earlier this week, I cleaned the Living Room, not because it needed it, but because I could do most if while sitting on the couch. This is the same reason that I like to sort laundry. I can do it while sitting. I'm capable of a lot. I am capable of cooking entirely organic, made from scratch meals. I am capable of maintaining a spotless home. I am capable of creating tiny themed lunches for my kids to haul to school. That doesn't mean I'm going to do any of those things. When it comes down to it, I can talk myself out of almost any job with a DVD's episode of Sherlock or a new book on my Nook or a new skein of yarn. And my chair. Because what all of those things have in common, is my red chair.

4. I Don't Have Time for it All - This is sort of related to the above. But, even if I got super motivated and decided to pre-cook a month's worth of meals, I would still pick up Micky D's on the way home or throw some spaghetti in the pot sometimes. I would still go to bed with clean laundry piled on the foot of the bed and legos on the living room floor. Because there is just too much to do. There are books to be read and written and panchos to crochet and TV to watch and a house to clean and kids to play with and planners to sign and Girl Scout cookies to sell and cupcakes to bake and work to do. There is this life and it's bigger than I am. And I am okay with that. I am okay with knowing that it's not all going to get done. I am going to die with a to do list. But that's okay. Because if I've prioritized right, there won't be anything on it that someone else can't do the next day.

5. I'm Worth It (Almost Regardless of What "It" Is) - I tend to have this belief that no one really wants to spend time with me. Except my mom. She seems to genuinely like me. I've always thought this, that everyone else was doing me a favor by being around me. And I've always known, really, that no one else felt that way. (Well, I'm sure no one is just as ridiculous as everyone, but you get the gist.) But that didn't stop me from believing that I have to make being with me worth it. By being funny and smart and able to discuss anything. By being larger than life and telling wild eyed stories and being super nice. I'm not going to stop doing any of those things, because that's who I am, but I am going to stop trying to sell myself. I don't care what you have to put up with that's annoying about me, I am still worth your time. And if you don't agree, then you, simply aren't worth mine. No hard feelings.

What about you? Is there something you should own about yourself? Something that's getting in your way or causing you too much guilt? Shout it out. I'll even give you a "Hell, yeah!" if appropriate.

Conversations with Kids

It was late. Like 9:00. Shut up, that's late for me during the school year. I wanted to watch Sherlock and Brynna wouldn't go to bed. I didn't want to make her because we already knew that the next day was a snow day and it just didn't seem worth it. I figured, Sherlock is safe enough and also, maybe, boring for a nine year old? So, maybe she'd get bored and hurry up and go to bed. I turned it on.

Bridesmaid on Sherlock: The famous Mr. Holmes! I'm very pleased to meet you. But no sex, okay?
Sherlock: Um, sorry?
Bridesmaid: You don't have to look so scared. I'm only messing. Bridesmaid, best man... It's a bit traditional.
Me: No, it's not.
Brynna looking shocked: I would never make my bridesmaids do that!
Me: No, I mean, no one makes them, it's just... You know what? Nevermind. Go to bed. NOW.
__________________________

Maren is sort of obsessed with commercials. She believes everything and is constantly looking for the next great thing for all of us, everywhere.

Maren: Mommy, I want that.
Me: Of course you do.
Maren: What do you mean?
Me: I mean, you want everything on TV. Regardless of whether or not you need it.
Maren: But I do, I do need it. For outside my door. Then, when I get up in the middle of the night, I can see to get in your bed.
Me: Wait. What? I wasn't paying attention. What is this thing you need?
Maren: It's a light that comes on when you move.
Me: A motion detector. For in the house?
Maren: Well, they had it on a garage and by a front door and stuff, but I want to put it in the hallway.
_____________________________

Maren: Can we go to Disney World again?
Me: Yes, but not this year.
Brynna: Can we go somewhere this year?
Me: I'd like to, but we'll just have to see. Where would you guys like to go?
Maren confused: Um... Disney World?
Me: Yes, but where else?
Brynna also confused: Disneyland?
Me: Someplace not Disney.
Brynna: Oh. China.
Me: Somewhere domestic. In this country.
Brynna: Um... Chinatown?
Me: You know what, how about I come back with options?

I'm So Sick of The Outdoors

Okay, I'm going to admit something. And you should probably mark this down. I am sick of the snow.

I know, I know. I am Madame Obnoxious Lover de Winter. I am The Queen of Making You Miserable by Going on and on About the Virtues of Winter. I am the Snow Princess. I am an insufferable supporter of cold weather.

And I am freaking done.

We have had more snow this year than in the past ten years combined.* We have been pelted by enough ice to confuse a polar bear.* We have had subarctic temperatures.*

I am going to take a moment and say that I think the problem here is that where I live, this is not the norm. We are not prepared for this. I don't have good coats or boots or wool socks or pants that don't drag in the snow. I don't have tire chains or snow tires or insulation for my engine block. We don't have enough salt, plows or winter driving skill.

I still think I would last a little longer further north, is what I'm saying. But I think my dreams of moving to Alaska have been crushed. Where can I move that's basically fall year round?

One of the things that I am tired of is dealing with my kids. My kids, they are wonderful. I adore them. They are my favorite and my best. Here's the problem: snow days. If they spend too much time together, they transform from their darling selves into evil monsters of doom. So, not only do they spend all day together at my mom's, but then we go home and I say, no, you may not play outside where it is NEGATIVE FOUR.

And then I say, IF YOU ARE COLD, PUT ON A SWEATER. PROPANE ISN'T CHEAP.

And then I say, I DON'T KNOW WHAT WE ARE HAVING FOR DINNER. IT IS 2:15.

And then I say, IF YOU ARE BORED, YOU CAN CLEAN YOUR ROOM. BECAUSE I'M NOT DOING IT AGAIN.

And then I say, WHY ARE ALL THE FORKS IN THE LIVING ROOM?

And then I say, I DON'T CARE IF IT'S ONLY 8:00. GO TO BED.

There is a lot of yelling, is what I'm getting at.

And that just makes them squirrellier. And it makes me more annoyed, because I was not going to lose my temper today, I promised myself.

I need Spring. And it hurts me to say that. But, my gosh. Either I need a million more pairs of gloves, a really good pair of snow boots and a coat that fits and keeps me warm. Or I need Spring. Like ten minutes ago.

And guess what? Tonight, we are getting ice. Lots and lots of ice. Because, of course we are.

*Made up statement, not necessarily true.