Thepettyandprofound's Blog
Just another WordPress.com siteArchive for September, 2010
Snooze on the Biological Clock
Wouldn’t it be nice if all babies came complete with a lifetime designated driver and a drop-of-the hat on-call nanny? Like most unmarried, childless women in their late 20s and 30s experience at one time or another, I, too, have suffered at the hands of the fear-inducing biological baby clock.
Not to compare a pet to a child, but dogsitting for my mom for the past three weeks while she’s been out of the country has not only taken a toll on my car, but has also been a tough challenge of selflessness. I wouldn’t typically consider myself a selfish person but when it comes to being responsible for two little lives night and day that’s a whole different story. I can’t imagine how much more difficult raising children must be.
Charlie is the rambunctious of the two toy poodles and after letting them sleep with me one night I had to deal with him tossing and turning and fussing at random noises like the old floorboards creaking or other sounds typical of an old house. I thought earplugs would be the wise solution until he literally tried to pluck one out with his mouth!
When I told this story to a co-worker she laughed sheepishly and said her young son still slept in the bed with her and her husband but she doesn’t have the heart to send him back o his room on account of the ‘monsters’. “I guess you probably don’t have any sort of semblance of a romantic life between the sheets?”, I asked her (although this is the more conservative version), to which she nodded emphatically.
This made me sigh with empathy because even temporarily taking care of these dogs has severely disrupted my routine interfering with work, the gym and even time with my boyfriend. Not to mention, I miss just being alone sometimes without them stepping on my heels every time I turn around.
I’ve always known looking after pets or even children is a huge responsibilty which is probably why I’ve procrastinated on both fronts even though I love both. I will never forget when my mom asked me if something was wrong with my reproductive organs because I’ve yet to produce her any grandchildren. It’s almost like if you don’t try to have kids by a certain age (just for the sheer act of having them) that this is considered bizarre behavior for a woman.
I can’t wait to have children (as I get older ONE sounds even more appealing) and have tremendous repect for all of those hard-working mothers out there, but this recent hijacking of my life has even further reinforced that I still have some of my own life to live before bringing in another one.
Wedding and a Funeral
This week I attended a wedding and a funeral. Both played “Ave Maria” and both were rights of passage that demonstrated true selflessness.
During the funeral of my dear friend’s grandmother I was overcome with emotion when her mother, who was like a second mom to me growing up, showed up with a shopping bag full of books for me that she thought I should read. Here she was at her own mother’s funeral and she was still thinking about others.
At the wedding, I watched as all the married couples were called to the floor and narrowed down one-by-one until the couple who had been married the longest were “the last men standing”. It was an elderly little couple who had been married for over 60 years and still had a flirtatious little pep in their step. As I watched those couples fall away like shivering leaves from a fall-time tree it made me think of those, who when they began had every intention of making it, yet break up, divorce and fall away, letting circumstances or even themselves get in the way of lifelong happiness together. It struck me that on some level these two understood that marriage is selflessness and in a world that has become incredibly selfish the idea of a long and happy marriage becomes more and more unattainable.
Maybe true selflessness is something acquired after becoming a parent, something learned over time with age and wisdom, or maybe it’s just how these people are built.
Either way, if you’re lucky enough to have a handful of people like this in your lifetime you are truly blessed.
Case of Mistaken Identity
I’ve come to the conclusion that the freaks really do come out at night. In short, let’s just say a night cap to the Shell station last night ended less than desirably.
For starters, a creepy little guy, who seemed to be compensating with a larger than life truck, perused me like he was sizing up prime real estate. Of course, this always seems to happen when there is no easy exit and a line out the door.
Soon after, while pre-paying for gas I noticed the clerk behind the counter seemed irritable, presumably about working the night shift. He got in an argument with the blotchy gentleman in front of me about some quick picks so I wanted to make the whole transaction as quick and painless as possible. Once I got outside I realized that the pump was stuck on the wrong grade. I popped back inside to get the cashier’s attention and after calling out “Sir” several times to him, he barked back, “Ma’am, Ma’am, Ma’am!”
I was completely baffled. I felt like a kid struggling with a Rubic’s Cube. “What do you want me to call you??” I asked him. “Mr.??”
Then the unthinkable happened. The tenor-voiced, mustache-donning, cargo shorts-black-socks-sneaker-clad ‘man’ grabbed his chest (or lack therof) as the entire crowd looked on in disbelief. I’m not speechless often but I can assure you this was one of the rare and mortifying occasions.
And like binoculars coming into focus, I finally understood, that, yes, I just yelled Sir at a woman (not once, but several times) in front of a slew of random witnesses.
Just a tale of misfortunate androgeny to brighten your day. After all, The Petty and Profound wouldn’t be complete without a little bit of Petty.
The “Tree of Life”
There is a rusty decrepit screen door in the backyard adjacent to mine that makes for a dingy view from my wrap-around deck. Instead of innocently asking my neighbor if he would like me to paint it for him (as an act of selfless Good Samaritanism, of course) I decided to plant a couple of unassuming Arborvitaes there. The first round were planted in the dead of summer and turned a coppery brown before fall. I had to dig them out and replace them with new ones…everyone was mysteriously MIA when I took on this glorious venture and I was disgruntled to find that trees, unlike small plants, do not fall out with ease when you flip the pot over and give it a little tap. In all of my determination I took a handsaw and literally sawed the plastic canisters off.
Like much in my life, nothing was stopping me.
To my dismay, my mom came over and took it upon herself to plant a grossly disproportionate toddler Arborvitae besides the two and christened them the “baby, the mama, and the daddy.” The family was so cute I didn’t have the heart to relocate it.
They thrived all year but after an excruciatingly hot, drought-ridden summer I began to notice the Mama wasn’t looking so hot. It was also clear that between boyfriend sleepovers and considerable travel I had only been home but a couple days a week for months.
I began staying home to nurse her back to life and in the process I began nurturing myself as well. Suddenly, I was consumed with home makeover projects and falling back in love with the subtle charm of my old craftsman home.
There’s something to be said for a little autonomy. Like buying a big bucket of popcorn and taking yourself to a comedy and laughing unapologetically as others stare at you in bewilderment. Or eating at your favorite restaurant solo when no one is picking up the phone. And, for the really adventurous, planning an intentional vacation for one (that is not the result of a non-refundable ticket and an unexpected break-up).
With a little TLC my tree has yet to flatline and by spending a little time focusing on myself I, too, have resumed to grow. Sometimes you just need a threat of disaster to give you a swift kick in the right direction.
The Serial Monogamist
A good friend once told me we should start a band called the Serial Monogamists. Me on the guitar and her on the banjo. I had to laugh at the catchy title. In truth, all of us are either guilty of or know someone who suffers from this syndrome. I will argue that jumping from relationship to relationship is many notches up from the status of cheating bastard but it still poses some problems. Like when you have to listen to your friend tell you that every new significant other is “The One” or notice them drop off the surface of the map as soon as they lose solo status.
What is “The One” anyway? My definition of a soul mate is a soul that is compatible with yours at the precise time and place that you can handle it. It’s like those guys that tell you they’re never getting married but once they feel like settling down the next girl they meet incidentally is the one. It may surprise you that I consider myself a romantic. I really am. But I’m also a realist and it takes more than love to go the distance.
My buddy’s dad is one of the most genuine, admirable people I know. He had a wonderful, long and loving marriage until his wife was taken from him by breast cancer. You know what he said when I asked him for the secret? One word: respect. Seems odd when every ballad on the radio boasts about love. But look closer. You can’t love someone without respect. You won’t betray someone if you respect them. You fight fair and always consider their feelings with respect.
There are a million people who love their partner but emotionally abuse them or treat them like shit; they lack respect.
This seemed like good news to me because love, or at least the state of being in love, is a very fleeting, ephemeral and fickle thing. And the idea that there is this one person meant for you in a sea of billions of people is much like finding a needle in a haystack and not worth beating yourself up over to discover.
Finding a partner that is fiercely loyal, committed and respectful seems so much more comforting than some Romeo who will be gone the second love begins to take work. And as far as serial monogamy goes, I will always contest that being happy alone is much better than being unhappy in a relationship.
K.I.S.S.
A car dealer once shared an interesting motto with me and it was summed up with a kiss. No, I did not make out with a car salesman. (I may drive a nice car, but didn’t have to stoop that low to get it.) What I’m referring to is K.I.S.S., which is an acronym for “Keep It Simple, Stupid.”
Not very polite, but still on point.
Life has grown increasingly complex over the past few decades and while complexity can be intriguing and engaging (especially when it comes to the perks of technology) it can also lend itself to triviality and distraction when it comes to our relationships.
I would even go as far as saying that the growing complexity and immediate gratification culture of our society has interfered with marriage and the nuclear family itself. There are so many distractions nowadays. Back in the day you had to drive miles to some nearby farm to find another family and hope they have a daughter or son close to your age to even consider straying. Today, temptation is around every corner. You don’t even have to muster up any courage to approach someone for their phone number; through a friend request on Facebook you have a direct link of communication to them whether it is welcome or not.
I love the idea of progress. However, I’m also for the simple life. As our society becomes more and more advanced, it’s even more important that we re-train our brains to find an appropriate balance between the two. We live in a world where everything is readily available at our fingertips and as a result we have become incredibly impatient. Fewer and fewer people want to put the work into marriage or raising a family because they give up as soon as the going gets tough. And why wouldn’t they when they’ve learned (through everything else in life) that if it’s not easy, there are a million other options waiting outside the door.
50 years ago they introduced the television and there wasn’t another improvisation until years later with color TV. Now, there is a new version of our cell phones, computers and TVs every few months! People are obsessed with what’s next. No wonder the divorce rate is 1 in 2 marriages. People treat their spouses like a janky old model ready for an upgrade.
How do you keep it simple? Take a few minutes each day to really appreciate what you have. If you’re in a relationship, take a minute to reflect on the wonderful memories you’ve shared (people usually don’t bother to do this until they’re broken up and it’s way too late). Don’t give in to trivial temptations of something that seems better (if it’s shiny it’s probably hiding something). Turn everything off and go out into nature. Whatever you do, remember when things start to get too complicated, Keep It Simple, Stupid.
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