Sunday, April 29, 2012

The Ex is Always Greener



I recently heard a story that I am sure you’ve heard many times before.  A typical itch in a marriage where one spouse has reconnected with an ex on Facebook, email, or some other communication forum and is now thinking, “maybe I would be happier if I were with my newly reconnected ex”.  It’s a typical tale and one that rarely has a positive outcome.  Let’s be honest, marriage/partnerships are hard!  How lovely it is to escape to a thought of a house without arguments, where your partner always understands you, and where you always get your way.  Your ex seems to be the mascot of this paradise, and you are certain that if you were to leave your current partner, it would be the last step needed to embark on your journey to a tropical heaven.
So, let’s backtrack a bit… do you remember when you first met your loved one?  I always think that when you first meet, your loved one is a bit like that sinful warm five-nut brownie sundae at Houston’s Restaurant.  (I am so sorry for those of you whose lives have not been charmed by this delicious heavenly creation!)  You want to devour him/her to every last crumb, and you want to have as much of him/her as you can.  You cannot eat anything else, you cannot sleep, and all you think of is this craving.  However, after many years – perhaps marriage or a great partner relationship, your loved one changes from this lovely brownie sundae, to maybe a vanilla crème brulee.  He/She is still decadent, but a bit easier to digest on a daily basis.  Now, enters the ex who appears to be the brownie sundae you once loved.  You feel the cravings begin again, and you feel the jitters that make you feel if you don’t feed this craving, you will not be able to live.  However, I feel, pursuing this is not going to leave you with the satisfaction of the brownie sundae, but instead, it will be like those awful restaurants who take a beautiful crème brulee and drown it with liquor.  You know the type, don’t you?  They douse it with liquor to the point that you cannot even taste the crème brulee.  You feel you have some sort of awful liquor soup, and then all you crave is to have your lovely vanilla crème brulee back.
The dangers of “the one who got away” is that we forget over the years that there is a reason they got away.  If they broke up and no longer wanted us, we are better not being with someone who does not want us.  If we broke up with them, well, usually the reason you have to break up with someone the first time ends up being the reason you break up with them a second time.  So why is the person so appealing to you now?  You know that if you weren’t married with children, living the single life, you would probably not give this person a chance.  You would be a bit pickier, more assured of your value and what you want out of a partner.  Chances are that if you made a pros/cons list of your ex and your current partner – you would probably see that your current partner is the one you would want.  Your ex is an illusion at best.  You probably have many thoughts, fantasies and one-sided conversations of how they can take you away from all your troubles and give you a lifetime of indulgence.  But, really, who wants that warm five nut brownie sundae for every meal of every day?  Eventually you would be really sick of brownies, your stomach would feel awful, and you would start craving something more nourishing.  Plus, let’s face it, your hips and ass would house a different construction. 


Friday, April 27, 2012

The Meeting


I remember in school wondering if math would be a practical subject later on in life.  I know I questioned its relevance often during advanced algebra and calculus classes.  I am, however, very certain of the basic fundamentals of math being very useful in my adult life.  I know that two plus three equals five.  It is now almost two o’clock, 1:48 to be exact.  There are 60 minutes in an hour, so I have 132 minutes until my husband is home from work and can relieve me from my war with our children.
I often see other mothers with their extremely well behaved children in restaurants, cafes and grocery stores and think that they must have it all together.  Their children do not talk back and obey completely.  Their children sit down at meal time and eat, feeding themselves, and polish their plates.  They do not refuse to go potty when you know they should.  Yes, these mothers know the secret; the secret that was told at the exclusively held private meeting (“the meeting”) just after giving birth or adopting their children.  “The meeting” is something in which I was not extended an invitation to attend.  I am sure at “the meeting” the mothers were told how to care for their children every minute of every day from then until college years.  They were given their pins with an insignia that allows them access to all the places you should take your children to, books of useful information for the towns they live, as well as speed dial numbers to anyone of vast knowledge who can assist them on the way – Hello Supernanny! I know they were told how to feed them, how to know what their cries meant, and, most importantly, how to get their babies to sleep through the night.  When I see the children of these mommies, I am amazed at their children.  They get along with others, they don’t need to cling to mommy all the time, they don’t cry at the drop of a pin – they are just well mannered, adjusted babies/toddlers/kids that have mommies who are in the know. 
I, on the other hand, know that my son is skinny because he went through a phase where he only wanted to eat oatmeal for every meal – no matter how many nutritious meals I set before him and despite the fact that he had always been fed fresh food from the beginning. At first I did not cave in to his request for different meals, but after so many refusals to eat said healthy meals, I gave in out of fear he would become anorexic.  I also know that my daughter is a snuggle-hungry bunny who wants constant cuddles from her mommy and papa.  She wakes often at night from reasons that span upset tummy to teething and refuses to self-soothe without at least one pat or hug from one of us.  On many nights I have brought her to our bed, or slept in the twin bed in her room with her next to me, out of fear that she and I will drop to the floor from the physical exertion of walking to and from our room to hers.  These are not the habits of the children whose mothers attended “the meeting”. 
Let us not forget how the mothers of “the meeting” keep it together for themselves.  They are always well groomed and without the black circles under their eyes.  Their houses are well organized and clean.  If you are asked to their house, they have always baked something wonderful and know how to make the perfect macchiato. Due to their speed dial list, they keep in contact with the most reliable weather advisors and, therefore, they, along with their children, are always dressed correctly for the elements.  As for me, I know that I often forget the last time I washed my hair.  I am always questioning whether or not I brushed my teeth before bringing my son to school and am fearful that my attempts at being a social mommy are squashed by my morning breath.  The ponytail is my savior of hairstyles and I thank the Lord daily for foundation powder and dry shampoo. I cannot start my day without coffee and have advanced to needing one cup mid-morning and late afternoon so that I do not drop to the floor in a narcoleptic state. As for the weather, let’s just say I could not have looked more foolish in my chinos and ballet flats at a back to school party for my son’s school on what was the coldest day in August ever.  And because I dressed foolishly, so did my children.  Again, these are not the habits of a mommy who attended “the meeting”.   I have purchased, read and outlined many books on routines, meals, potty training, etc and have attempted tons of tips on my children –all to no avail. I think these authors also attended “the meeting”. 

Now, there is the possibility no such meeting exists.  I remember my favorite professor my first year in college.  He taught philosophy and loved to pose questions that seemed obvious but stumped us in the answers.  One day he presented me with a quarter in the palm of his hand.  He asked me what shape it was.  I said "It is round" and he excitedly declared "No! It appears spherical but its shape is round."  He went on to explain how something appears is not the same as its architecture.  Today, this memory of his shared knowledge brings a smile to my face as I sip my third cup of coffee.  Perhaps these mothers aren't exclusive club members of "the meeting" and lunching at a private club for alumni in New York City.    Maybe, instead, their appearances are different from their architecture and that their architecture, thankfully, is closer to mine.