After years of sticking to the same old (light brown hair, caramel highlights), and going through a pregnancy where my hair totally changed colour (got so dark that I felt like Elvira), and after months of debate and trying to find the cheapest colourist I could that was still good enough (if I actually define the word "cheap" in London terms, it is still insanely expensive. Oh well)...
I did it.
Maybe it's not a big deal in the grand scheme of things, and yes it's a little bit vain... but I don't really do anything for me anymore. I work to be able to save the money and put it into the house, or the boat, or the nanny, or spend it on things for the little one. But today was the day I indulged for a few hours. So I went red. Different. More provocative. And dare I say I got some once-overs by some young men on the train. *blush*
It's nice to do something just. for. me.
Saturday 22 May 2010
Friday 21 May 2010
Forget Chinese New Year. Apparently, 2010 is the Year of The Cheater.
I don't know what's in the air, or in the water, but there's obviously something itching in someone's pants.
Everywhere I look, the front page news (both here and over in the US) is heralding the death of another relationship. Some of them only a handful of years old, some of them 25-plus. Some of them split up for "amicable reasons", some of them admit to having affairs. Doesn't matter how long or short, it seems that no one has any need to work at anything anymore.
Yes, I sound judgmental and old-fashioned. I don't profess to know anyone's story, anyone's baggage, anyone's circumstances. But, as this blog is from my point of view, I'd like to share my two cents.
So, here's the question I have: How did we get to a point where people call it quits when the going gets tough? Or the partnership gets boring? Or stale? Or you want to upgrade to a younger model?
It's not just about marriage. It's being with someone long enough that you've gone through some major stuff together. You've been a witness to another person's triumphs, failings and bleakest moments. You've planned adventures. Shared dreams. Supported ideas that you weren't too sure about (but you did anyway). You made each other laugh. You kissed each other goodnight. You smiled that secret smile that only the other knew.
So what makes you give all that up? What makes you get bored to the point where you kiss someone else or make someone else laugh? Or just want to leave?
I don't get it.
"Well, we just drifted apart.."
"He/she worked long hours, and I got bored. I needed attention."
"We just became different people."
"I have no idea why. I just did. And now I regret it. "
"I was tempted. I'm only human."
Bullshit. There's always a way to make something right, make something better.
I don't think there's any earthly reason to rip someones heart out like that. Have some cojones. If you really think there's nothing worth saving in so many years spent with someone, then suck it up and tell it like it is. Say it. Talk about it. Be honest, before you start being polite to each other and start looking elsewhere for help.
The hard part is working at it. We're all human, we all get tempted, we all get bored, we all get annoyed at the other person for little things. It's normal. But do you risk losing the promise that you made to someone just because you wanted 5 minutes to alleviate your boredom? Mmm... yeeahhh. Not buying it.
Why do I get so angry at stuff like this? Well, because I was that person.
In a nutshell? I was in a very serious relationship before I met the mister. It was long-term. For keeps. We made promises to each other that we probably shouldn't have. Or, more accurately, I shouldn't have.
We were together past the point of needing to be together. But I stayed because I thought "well, that's what you do. You stick around. It's the natural progression. He's the guy, right?" It was terrible of me to be so ambivalent, because that was the death of us. And that was the death of me for a long time. And I behaved quite badly. Emotionally, I tore us apart. Flattened us. Destroyed any trust and good will. And the whole time, I knew when it was time to say "enough". I knew what I needed to say. But I didn't. I decided to be polite, and while I smiled at him, I did things behind his back as an act of self-destruction. It was a horrible point in my life, but I don't regret it, because I came out of it with a crystallized awareness of who I am and what I wanted.
So, this is why, in a small way, I might have a small insight into the "reasons" that these people are giving as to why they cheated. And I still say it's all bullshit. If you really can't be bothered to work at a relationship, then you probably weren't meant to be with that person anyway. Please, just say it. Say the words that you most fear. I promise you, it will be much less painful than anything else you were planning on doing.
Give it a shot. Have some patience. Be nice to eachother. Find the love.
Everywhere I look, the front page news (both here and over in the US) is heralding the death of another relationship. Some of them only a handful of years old, some of them 25-plus. Some of them split up for "amicable reasons", some of them admit to having affairs. Doesn't matter how long or short, it seems that no one has any need to work at anything anymore.
Yes, I sound judgmental and old-fashioned. I don't profess to know anyone's story, anyone's baggage, anyone's circumstances. But, as this blog is from my point of view, I'd like to share my two cents.
So, here's the question I have: How did we get to a point where people call it quits when the going gets tough? Or the partnership gets boring? Or stale? Or you want to upgrade to a younger model?
It's not just about marriage. It's being with someone long enough that you've gone through some major stuff together. You've been a witness to another person's triumphs, failings and bleakest moments. You've planned adventures. Shared dreams. Supported ideas that you weren't too sure about (but you did anyway). You made each other laugh. You kissed each other goodnight. You smiled that secret smile that only the other knew.
So what makes you give all that up? What makes you get bored to the point where you kiss someone else or make someone else laugh? Or just want to leave?
I don't get it.
"Well, we just drifted apart.."
"He/she worked long hours, and I got bored. I needed attention."
"We just became different people."
"I have no idea why. I just did. And now I regret it. "
"I was tempted. I'm only human."
Bullshit. There's always a way to make something right, make something better.
I don't think there's any earthly reason to rip someones heart out like that. Have some cojones. If you really think there's nothing worth saving in so many years spent with someone, then suck it up and tell it like it is. Say it. Talk about it. Be honest, before you start being polite to each other and start looking elsewhere for help.
The hard part is working at it. We're all human, we all get tempted, we all get bored, we all get annoyed at the other person for little things. It's normal. But do you risk losing the promise that you made to someone just because you wanted 5 minutes to alleviate your boredom? Mmm... yeeahhh. Not buying it.
Why do I get so angry at stuff like this? Well, because I was that person.
In a nutshell? I was in a very serious relationship before I met the mister. It was long-term. For keeps. We made promises to each other that we probably shouldn't have. Or, more accurately, I shouldn't have.
We were together past the point of needing to be together. But I stayed because I thought "well, that's what you do. You stick around. It's the natural progression. He's the guy, right?" It was terrible of me to be so ambivalent, because that was the death of us. And that was the death of me for a long time. And I behaved quite badly. Emotionally, I tore us apart. Flattened us. Destroyed any trust and good will. And the whole time, I knew when it was time to say "enough". I knew what I needed to say. But I didn't. I decided to be polite, and while I smiled at him, I did things behind his back as an act of self-destruction. It was a horrible point in my life, but I don't regret it, because I came out of it with a crystallized awareness of who I am and what I wanted.
So, this is why, in a small way, I might have a small insight into the "reasons" that these people are giving as to why they cheated. And I still say it's all bullshit. If you really can't be bothered to work at a relationship, then you probably weren't meant to be with that person anyway. Please, just say it. Say the words that you most fear. I promise you, it will be much less painful than anything else you were planning on doing.
Give it a shot. Have some patience. Be nice to eachother. Find the love.
Tuesday 11 May 2010
I think I can I think I can...
Sometimes I don't know if I'll manage to dig up that last little bit of push in order to keep my head above water. The task list seems endless. I'm just about to drown. My eyebrows sink under the surface.
Dishes.
3 loads of laundry.
Bathtime.
Grocery shopping.
Park playdate.
Music class.
Naptime (ideally, for both of us. But who am I kidding...)
Work projects.
Deadlines.
Balancing our accounts.
Cooking dinner.
Making and freezing babyfood.
And with very little sleep, it makes things even more jarring, even more intimidating.
Case in point: My day today.
My lovely other half, whom I love to pieces, thinks he's invincible. Whilst that's a lovely quality to have, it results in very long and drawn-out colds and coughs and illnesses. Which he doesn't help by smoking the occasional cigarette. But, I digress.
Last night, he woke me up when he got into bed at 2am from a long night at the office (I do like when he does this, because I like seeing his face before I drop off back to sleep). However, he wakes me up with his coughing at 4:30am. Which results in me not being able to get back to sleep. Not pleasant.
Then, our little lady decides to get the party started at 5:30am. Not hungry, not upset, just wakes up screeching with joy at starting her day and wanting to see us. Beautiful in retrospect, but at that moment, it was the vocal equivalent of a chainsaw.
I try and feed her in bed, but she keeps tapping on daddy's shoulder, screeching for his attention. He gave me a look like "oh, please, can I just get a few hours' sleep before I get up for work again?" Okay, fair enough. I feed her in her room, and then we start our day with games and music downstairs in the living room. Me in rat's-nest hair and boxer shorts, her in her little t-shirt and nappy. With such a grin on her face, I swear, she's oblivious to the fact that I'm in a terrible mood.
He comes downstairs a couple hours later.
"Hey, you ok?"
"Mm-hmm."
"Sorry I kept you up."
"Mm-hmm."
"Maybe try and rest today. Nap when she naps."
(Death stare.)
We went about our respective days, just getting on with things, he left for work, I had errands to run, parks to go to, groceries to buy, calls to make.
I could've started our morning with a snide comment or a martyr-ish comment about how I'm so tired and how I do so much. But I didn't. It's taken me a long time to learn, but I think I'm finally realising that the instant gratification of venting (although cathartic for about 2 seconds) ultimately ruins a moment, ruins a day, keeps you on separate teams. It's much better to find that little voice that whispers: hey, you both have a lot going on. Focus on the positive stuff, and everything else will fall into place.
Tonight, whilst my mister works damn hard at his job for all of us, I ended my day with a little girl, having had her warm milk, asleep on my shoulder, a velvety-soft hand clutching my arm. Her breathing deep and regular, her breath smelling sweet.
I realised that I did have it in me. I did have the strength to put all the pieces together without drowning. I did have the patience to let her know that no matter what, she would always see me smiling and covering her with kisses. I felt so proud that I could give her what she needed, and also be the woman and wife that I wanted to be.
I thought I could.
And today, I did.
Dishes.
3 loads of laundry.
Bathtime.
Grocery shopping.
Park playdate.
Music class.
Naptime (ideally, for both of us. But who am I kidding...)
Work projects.
Deadlines.
Balancing our accounts.
Cooking dinner.
Making and freezing babyfood.
And with very little sleep, it makes things even more jarring, even more intimidating.
Case in point: My day today.
My lovely other half, whom I love to pieces, thinks he's invincible. Whilst that's a lovely quality to have, it results in very long and drawn-out colds and coughs and illnesses. Which he doesn't help by smoking the occasional cigarette. But, I digress.
Last night, he woke me up when he got into bed at 2am from a long night at the office (I do like when he does this, because I like seeing his face before I drop off back to sleep). However, he wakes me up with his coughing at 4:30am. Which results in me not being able to get back to sleep. Not pleasant.
Then, our little lady decides to get the party started at 5:30am. Not hungry, not upset, just wakes up screeching with joy at starting her day and wanting to see us. Beautiful in retrospect, but at that moment, it was the vocal equivalent of a chainsaw.
I try and feed her in bed, but she keeps tapping on daddy's shoulder, screeching for his attention. He gave me a look like "oh, please, can I just get a few hours' sleep before I get up for work again?" Okay, fair enough. I feed her in her room, and then we start our day with games and music downstairs in the living room. Me in rat's-nest hair and boxer shorts, her in her little t-shirt and nappy. With such a grin on her face, I swear, she's oblivious to the fact that I'm in a terrible mood.
He comes downstairs a couple hours later.
"Hey, you ok?"
"Mm-hmm."
"Sorry I kept you up."
"Mm-hmm."
"Maybe try and rest today. Nap when she naps."
(Death stare.)
We went about our respective days, just getting on with things, he left for work, I had errands to run, parks to go to, groceries to buy, calls to make.
I could've started our morning with a snide comment or a martyr-ish comment about how I'm so tired and how I do so much. But I didn't. It's taken me a long time to learn, but I think I'm finally realising that the instant gratification of venting (although cathartic for about 2 seconds) ultimately ruins a moment, ruins a day, keeps you on separate teams. It's much better to find that little voice that whispers: hey, you both have a lot going on. Focus on the positive stuff, and everything else will fall into place.
Tonight, whilst my mister works damn hard at his job for all of us, I ended my day with a little girl, having had her warm milk, asleep on my shoulder, a velvety-soft hand clutching my arm. Her breathing deep and regular, her breath smelling sweet.
I realised that I did have it in me. I did have the strength to put all the pieces together without drowning. I did have the patience to let her know that no matter what, she would always see me smiling and covering her with kisses. I felt so proud that I could give her what she needed, and also be the woman and wife that I wanted to be.
I thought I could.
And today, I did.
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