Sacrifice

*This is a post from early last year, you know, when we were all dreaming the things that have come to pass. Keep it up you guys!
Carry on,
xox

Do you have lists, folders or a bulletin board full of things you desire?
I do. At my store I had an entire wall of cork behind the desk. It was 11 feet high. The entire surface covered with pictures, cards, swatches, anything and everything I loved. Except for the very tippy top, because if I could reach it standing on my chair, so be it. If I had to get the ladder it didn’t make the cut. Too lazy.

I dream big. Always have, always will.
I believe EVERYTHING is obtainable.
The extraordinary things I covet and the pictures I collect are just reminders for me.
I want it all!

Then reality lands on my head, and while he messes my hair, he whispers in my ear this loaded question:
Are you willing to do what it takes?

We all know deep down what’s required to achieve our dreams.
What changes, course corrections, sacrifices, hard work and amount of commitment will deliver them to us.

But will we only reach as high as the chair will take us or will we get off of our asses and get the ladder?

Are you willing to do what it takes?
We can ask ourselves that question of ANY situation. If we do, often the answer will be: not now, or I’m not ready, or flat-out NO.
Then we have no one to blame but ourselves when something slips through our fingers and that’s no fun.

Sometimes you think you know what you’re willing to do, but if you’d really known what it would take, you’d have packed your bags and moved to Siberia.

When I decided to buy a house I knew I had to put an end to my frivolous spending.
I was making good money and buying everything that wasn’t nailed down. I was a hoarder of all the finest things in life. But I could not continue to be that girl AND own a home. Not unless I learned how to turn shoes into gold.
I was sick and tired of greasing Uncle Sam’s palm with my tax money, and listening to my upstairs neighbor’s terrible music and bad headboard rhythm during sex.

I wanted a house, and I wanted it in a year.
I was 39 years old. Time was a wastin’.
But…Was I willing to do what it would take?

It had to be drastic. It has to be quick. I needed to save $40,000 in twelve months. I formulated a plan, and jumped. Are you seeing a pattern in my life? I am.

I moved out of my 3000 square foot rented duplex, and put everything in storage. Then my two Siamese cats, their giant cat tree, and 1/3 of my clothes, moved into a 10 x 10ft. bedroom at my sister’s with her husband and my two-year old nephew.

It was a toddler/cat free-for-all for this childless, terminally single girl.

Did I also mention that my 7 minute commute turned into one hour each way?
Oh yeah, now THAT’S commitment.
All the sacrifice, all fur balls and midnight cat fights paid off. I did manage to move out after exactly one year. It was a good thing too. My sister was four months pregnant with my niece by then and was going to need MY room.

As I write this I’m sitting in that very house, which I LOVE.
I’m proud of myself for buckling down, behaving like grown up, and going after my dream.
Parts of it were fun, but I can’t imagine doing it again. Not in a million years.

I’ve worked two jobs, logged thousands of overtime hours, and passed on great vacation trips, as I’m sure a lot of you guys have—to get what I wanted.

I’ve learned how to be soft and vulnerable, while getting my heart-broken, in order to be ready for my husband.

Some jumps I’ve taken have failed.
A lot of what I’ve done, I’d never do again.
If I’d REALLY known what it would take, I may not have been so willing.
I think as time goes on you develop a kind of amnesia to the pain. It keeps you in the game.

Regardless, it couldn’t have been THAT bad.
It has all brought me here, and here, is pretty damn good.
So I say: Go for it.

Xox

Oh God, pah-leeeeez don’t ask me to go with you, please for the love of all things holy go by yourself…

“I’d really love you to go with me to this car rally on Sunday”

There, he’d gone and done it, he’d interrupted my prayer vigil to ask me to do the very thing I was dreading: accompany him on an all day car rally in his newly restored vintage 1961 car —  the car of his dreams which he’d waited five years to drive — on his birthday weekend.

The trifecta of wifely favors.

Fuck.

I would rather have needles stuck in my eyes, walk on hot coals, or go to Disneyland with a bunch of little kids —on a hot day — during spring break.

But you see, I’m not a total ass, I had endured one of these rally’s in another car a few years back and It. Was. Torture. According to the rules of the Geneva Convention.

Every other participant knew Moses when he was a boy, the median age being approximately one hundred and seven, and saying I had nothing in common with their trophy wives who were hoping against hope that that Sunday would be the day the old geezer would kick the bucket – was an understatement of epic proportions.

I was sure I could not endure another vintage car rally, but in light of the fact that I am currently extolling the virtues of the book The Zim Zum of Love by Rob and Kristen Bell, I was forced to reconsider.

One of the things the book talks about is maintaining the energy or Zim Zum that exists between couples. One of the ways is through simple acts of kindness.

So I knew I had to suck it up…and walk the talk.

Fuckity, fuck, fuck.
He was so excited, all enthused and …happy; an emotion he hadn’t displayed in the month since our old dog had passed.

And did I mention it was his birthday?

So I grabbed myself by the scruff of the neck (not an easy feat) and had a Come-to-Jesus-Talk with ME.

You’ve got to do this so you might as well make the best of it. Try to have fun (that was my mantra all day) this means so much to him and it really is no skin off your nose to take a long ride in a cool car to Malibu for lunch. Try to smile, try to make conversation, try be nice — try to have fun.

In order to jooj up the fun factor I decided to be anyone but myself and play the part of a sixties femme fatale. I donned the requisite head scarf, Jackie O shades and attitude to get into the character of an International Woman of Mystery, someone who would have ridden in that car back in its heyday, and I’ve got to say, as corny as it sounds, that really helped.

That is until they let the air out of my balloon when they handed us the ten pages of “crazy clues and fun facts”  that were part of the directions to our lunch destination.

I would have loved to have seen my face — My eyes rolled so hard I almost did a back-flip

This was that most dreaded of all car rally’s: The Cloying Scavenger Hunt Rally where the navigator (me) reads the pages and pages of ever so clever clues to the driver in order to figure out which street to turn on or how far up ahead to stop.

Fuck.

I almost ripped off the scarf and glasses and went screaming down the hill, that is until I looked at his face. He looked so… hopeful, wanting me to just go along and be a sport, and I could hear the wobbly, self righteous Zim Zum between us calling my name…Janet…be kind…do the right thing…how many stupid-ass things have you dragged him to?

Zim Zum never lies; so I sucked it up, put on my shades, tied my head scarf and smiled; then down through the hills of Beverly we went as I called out clues and street names.

Try to have fun…just have fun. I kept repeating until it got easier.

The further we went, the sillier we got (truth be told he also thought this whole part was asinine. Whew!) Until we were laughing and waving at fellow drivers and suddenly I realized I was having a rally good time.

It turned out to be the perfect way to take his new baby out for a spin; and once we figured out where we were headed we just relaxed, chucked the ridiculously difficult list of clues, (it’s not like we were being graded) and enjoyed the gorgeous day.

Sometimes a relationship; a marriage; requires sacrifice.

Sometimes that sacrifice takes up your entire Sunday.

Sometimes you are reduced to wearing a disguise, I mean scarf and sunglasses, to make it palatable.

And sometimes, if you stop being such a stuck-up-bitch-face, stop thinking of only yourself and just show some love and kindness to your husband on his birthday — in spite of yourself you can have a whole lotta fun.

I’m always learning.

Psssst…don’t show too much enthusiasm or he’ll make you go every time.

Carry on,

Xox

There is a mysterious, indescribable, complex exchange that can happen in the space between you and your partner. You find each other. Your centers of gravity expand as your lives become more and more entwined. You create space for this other person to thrive while they’re doing the same for you. This creates a flow of energy in the space between you. This energy field is at the heart of marriage. It flows in the space between you, space that exists nowhere else in the universe. You can become more familiar with how this energy field works. You can develop language between you to identify what’s happening in the space between you. You can sharpen your abilities to assess it. You can act in certain ways to increase the flow. You can identify what’s blocking the flow, and then you can overcome those barriers. Years into your marriage, you can continue to intensify this energetic flow between you.

It is risky to give yourself to another. There are no guarantees, and there are lots of ways for it to fall apart and break your heart. But the upside is infinite.

—from The Zimzum of Love

New York Times bestselling author Rob Bell and his wife, Kristen Bell, explore a whole new way of understanding our most intimate and powerful relationship: marriage. The concepts behind The Zimzum of Love open ways for us to transform and deepen how we love.

Love Is Friendship Set On Fire

“Love is friendship caught fire; it is quiet, mutual confidence, sharing and forgiving. It is loyalty through good and bad times. It settles for less than perfection, and makes allowances for human weaknesses. 
Love is content with the present, hopes for the future, and does not brood over the past. It is the day-in and day-out chronicles of irritations, problems, compromises, small disappointments, big victories, and working toward common goals. 
If you have love in your life, it can make up for a great many things you lack. 
If you do not have it, no matter what else there is, it is not enough.”

I can’t remember when and where I came across this poem. I collect anything and everything that touches me, like some people collect recipes. From quotes, to photos, poems, essays, books, notes, even people. 😉
I feel this poem.

I love the title. The thought that when friendship heats up, through acceptance and familiarity, it catches fire. And abracadabra! You have love.

There is a chance it will burn you, this flame of love, but if you don’t dance close to the fire, where you can really feel the heat – what’s the use.

What I Do know for sure, and agree with wholeheartedly…
You can have all the shoes, money, fame, power and whatever else you desire, but if you don’t have love in your life, NOTHING will ever be enough.

Happy Monday – Love You!
Xox

Being in my fifties, most of my friends have grown kids.
But since age is just a number and I’m  just immature enough, I have several younger  friends with very small children, kids under the age of ten.

I was talking to one of these younger moms and she asked my advise.

Not about mothering of course, since I forgot to have children, but about the level of commitment she and her girlfriends have to their kids and their spouses, and how they don’t take time for themselves.

Seems she was chatting with a friend of hers, a fellow mom, and they were joking about how clueless their sons and husbands were. That without their loving guidance they would be feral, running in packs, eating garbage and living under bridges with trolls, and that it was an all-consuming job with no time off for good behavior and no vacations.

We laughed of course, but it all sounded very familiar to me because that has been a recurring theme for most of the moms I have known.

“If it weren’t for me they wouldn’t eat, or they would live on Cheetos and Dr Pepper and be spindly and stupid from lack of proper nutrition.”

“If it weren’t for me they would wear the same filthy clothes, brush their teeth once a month when they showered (or fell into some water and called that a bath) and their ears, fingernails and feet would be caked black with dirt and their lice would have lice.”

“If it weren’t for me they wouldn’t have one manner, as a matter of fact, they probably wouldn’t have much of a grasp of proper English, or any social graces whatsoever. They would grunt while never looking up from their phone, iPad or computer. They would be complete social misfits.”

In a nutshell, if it weren’t for the tireless sacrifices, commitment and love to these guys (and girls) they would be just shells of their current magnificent selves.
They would have NEVER made the team, passed fourth grade, gotten that big job, done a speck of homework, learned music, gotten braces, written that speech, etc, ect , ect.

It’s okay if it’s a two-way street – but let’s get real here – it can be very one-sided.

So I listened, and laughed and then got tough with her – because I love her – and she asked.

“That’s all ego talking. You have to justify all that time and energy so you tell yourself basically, they’d be nothing without you.”

Is any of that true? Probably not. As a gross generalization, woman DO tend to bring out the best in men. And children. And small animals. And other women too.

I explained to her the oxygen mask theory. It’s amazing actually.
The airlines have to tell you that in the case of cabin depressurization, it is imperative to put the oxygen mask on yourself FIRST and then your child (hopefully your husband can put on his own or you have bigger problems than you think.)
They give you permission to go first; which seems completely counterintuitive to mothers –– so they have to be reminded.

“You and your girlfriend have to put you oxygen masks on first, otherwise you’re no good to anyone.”

Then a thought entered my mind like a lightening bolt. I got chills it was so profound. It was Divine Guidance. I certainly didn’t come up with it, it was too good.

“Oh Jeez, hey, I just got this.
If you really believe what you’re saying, who would YOU be if you had devoted the same time, energy, commitment, sacrifice and LOVE to yourself, that you have put into your family all these years?”

Then we both teared up.
Holy shit that’s big.

If you’re devoted to making everyone around you great, when is it your turn?

A ton of woman do it when they become empty nesters, but why wait?

This doesn’t apply to only kids and family.
I did it with my boss and my job, until I wised up, woke up, and set boundaries.
We make their lives easier, smoother, more fun and better, while we lose sleep at night.

I think it’s time for the oxygen mask first thinking to prevail, and taking the time to figure out how to make our own lives become great too.

Are you with me?

Can you relate to this kind of sacrifice and commitment to family? Have you found a balance? Let’s hear it in the comments.

Big love to the moms out there,
Xox