The Waiting Room

Ahhh the waiting room. We’ve all been there ... The chairs suck, there’s no snacks and it’s always the opposite temperature from what you want. You can smell the despair around you. Anxious energy abounds. You could be waiting forever it seems as your left butt cheeks starts to tingle just before it goes to sleep. There’s an old saltine cracker wrapper crunching under the bottom of your foot as you try to stomp your butt cheek back to life. People are starting to stare. Let Em! They have their own wait to suffer though this one is yours. Maybe you’re waiting for a phone call or a visit from a loved one, or a hated one. Maybe you’re waiting for the beginning of that hyped up fresh, new start everyone’s been talking  about. Maybe it’s the end you’re waiting for. The end to grieving, to pain, to self doubt, to the bullshit you’ve been choking on for too long. Maybe you’re just waiting to find out what the fuck it’s all about. Maybe it’s all of the above. Here’s what I’ve learned about the waiting room 1) it’s a great Fugazi song, 2) you’re not allowed to stay there forever there’s simply not enough room for everyone. 3) this too shall pass. Stick with me, I’ve been here before and I found the vending machines last time. I can’t fix it for you or for me but I promise to hold the kidney shaped, pink plastic barf bowl for you if you hold it for me. Together we will make the best of the waiting room.  Now ... do you have quarters? 

Applebee’s

 There’s a movie I love called Couples Retreat my celebrity boyfriend Vince Vaughn stars in it and if you haven’t seen it yet give it a go  if you hate it blame me. I think you might love it like I do. It explains relationships at all stages for me because ultimately it all comes down to who are you going to go to Applebee’s with. Meaning when the steam of  infatuation and lust wear off and if you’re still together then that is when it hits brass tacks. I enjoyed being married. I’m happy in a committed relationship. Im an anomaly in single town these days and that’s ok. Looking at past relationships I think the trick is to be single with the person you’re committed to. Never stop dating each other, learning about each other,  having fun. Share the heavy stuff too like an Ass - meaning donkey. Once you’ve seen the movie it makes more sense. I’ve struggled to find the person who shared my philosophy and since  Vince Vaughn is happily married I guess it’s just my family and friends that I get to be an ass for and that’s good enough. In my friendships and family we get ugly and do the hard stuff when we need to. We cry with each other and support each other’s wins just like the losses. We tell the hard truth and stay. We hold space while the other person figures it out. Why is that so hard to do in a romantic relationship? Why can’t people commit to that relationship like they do to the new iPhone? Ultimately.. I want a man who sees that movie and gets it and I’m willing to wait. The best proposal for this movie nerd would be “would you like to go to Applebee’s with me forever” ? Who are YOU going to go to Applebee’s with! 

Kith and Kin

I woke up late today. The happy oversleep of a good time the day before ... snuggled in a pile of blankets and warm but not just from that; also from (to quote Clark Griswold) “the warmth of kith and kin”. I don’t know what kith is but I’m guessing it has something to do with that feeling you get when you’re surrounded by family. Different generations in one place. Walking from room to room and passing conversations between Aunt and Neice,  cousin to cousin. Out in the yard the next generation,  the great grandkids are jumping in a bounce house while the older great grands are playing giant versions of jenga and connect four. Siblings reconnecting over food and little pockets of family tradition rebuilding themselves all over the house. I’m laying in bed in awe of being a part of the magic, ordinary perfection of the day. Good food and too much, laughing and Christmas music and crazy ornaments all surrounded by the people you love.  The people who collectively make you YOU. I think that’s what Clark Griswold was talking about as he stood frozen with his family staring out at a tree in the snow. I’m going to lay here and enjoy my happiness hangover a bit longer.....

Straycation

For a little over 20 years my family has kept an annual summer trip tradition thanks to my dad and his big sisters family. So many great posts to be shared about the trip in general but today I’ll be specific. Each year I’d pack my kids and all their equipment up and schlep it to the Eastern Sierra’s for two weeks.  Part of my ritual was to walk down to the payphone each night to call the husband back home who could never go because he was working. Twice in twenty years he joined us. Most of the time we fought about how long Id be gone, what was he gonna do for food, what about the laundry? I’d worry about what he was doing without my watchful eye. How far would he stray this year. My kids bathed in the kitchen sink and learned how to bait hooks and clean fish. Their dad learned the boundaries of what would become jokingly referred to later by my friends and I as his “straycation”.  (Spoiler alert .. He did the same stuff he was doing when I was home, just without my prying eyes). I never fully relaxed despite my parents valiant efforts to allow me naps and quiet time. What a shame I could never let go of what wasn’t mine to control to begin with. One year he threw a party for a young neighbors birthday and forgot to turn the spa off afterwards. For a week. That was expensive. I found out later that he regularly hosted parties in my absences or just never came home at all. After my divorce I went back to work and the two week trips were left to just the kids and my parents but we kept the tradition alive. I’d join for a weekend  or longer if I was able. Slowly, I started to relax a little more. No more payphone  calls for bad news. This year, for the first time I have invited a guest. My boyfriend is joining us. He’s flying to California just for the trip. The point in this very abbreviated story is this - the people who want you and your time make it happen. They show up. No prodding or pleading required. No watchful eyes necessary because the words match the deeds. I spent too long trying to put a square peg into a round hole. What a disservice I did to that square peg and to myself. Like the saying goes...if you have to force it- it’s probably shit. Cheers to traditions and the gift of family. Eastern Sierra’s here I come.

Just another,, just another day

On a regular Monday night my life all of sudden shifted, like I could physically feel it. In the past that feeling only ever came after loss or huge change. For example; when i graduated  high school, or when my first grandparent died, or when I realized my marriage was over.  The heavy shift from one reality to another that just occurs with no warning and then BAM your life looks different than the day before. It feels different.  It’s almost tangible and it’s been that kind of week (yes I know it’s only Tuesday). My bonus son slept over and went to breakfast with my little unit minus one yesterday. That night  my two kids who still live with me, along with my daughters boyfriend went to sushi with my boyfriend and I  (my unit minus one). The meal was really good, normal exchange of family type conversations along with some razzing about my son taking his hat off for dinner. I had somewhere I needed to be other than home right after the meal so I left the three of them to ride home with my boyfriend. I got into my car to drive away and had to pull over because right in that moment I realized that I LEFT the three of them to ride home with HIM, like a family. Then it hit me... We are a family. He’s not their dad and he doesn’t try to be, he just loves them where they are. He’s not my husband and I don’t know if he’ll ever be but he’s present and he accepts us all for who we are and offers his help if we ask. Like we do for him. Like the best kind of family would do. We are present for each other in all the moments good and bad and last night in my opinion, we became a family. The shift occurred over a mundane task but I didn’t second guess it happening or even have to ask if he minded because I already knew he wouldn’t. That feels like heaven. It’s brand new in my life and probably in theirs too. Cheers to my new little family. My kids are loved.. all of them and so are his. Our blending might look like a crazy afghan to some but to me it’s the most beautiful, ordinary, tapestry. It’s love.

Happy or Content

Happy is a really important word in our culture. If you’re  not happy then you’re expected to do something about it. Take a class or a pill. Get an injection, have a surgery. Buy the things. Take a trip. Happy is a fleeting feeling. Happy is simple and one dimensional. I have been happy with a whole bunch of things, people and situations but the happy wears off. Kinda like the flavor in a stick of Fruit Stripe gum. Intense and delicious for a short period of time and then it leaves you flat. You can chase happy for years and spend tons of money for those few, sharp tasty moments or you could be patient and wait for content to find you.Content is the wise older sister of happy. Content let’s you feel a kaleidoscope of emotions. It isn’t one dimensional.  You can be content and still working on a goal while happy makes you feel like it’s ok to stand still. Content let’s you bask in all the satisfaction  of finally living in the glow of what you’ve prayed for, wished for, dreamed of. Happy let’s you feel it on the surface, content gets in your bloodstream. I have been happy to be my children’s mother every day of their lives. I am content to see how they’ve turned out so far, good, solid perfectly imperfect humans. I was happy when I was single. Most days. More days I was happy to be out of a dysfunctional relationship and taking care of my kids,  trying to figure out what to be when I grew up. Today  am totally content in my new role as a girlfriend. I don’t feel the need to adjust myself for him, he loves me in all my stubborn, feisty, weirdness and helps me grow without making me feel defective for it. Happy is fine but content is better. Which one are you?

Magic City- Magic Man

I can remember vividly standing on the bridge at Wabash and Wacker locking my heart to the city with a little silver padlock that I bought at the Walgreens down the road because I’d come to the conclusion that this City, along with my family and friends, was my true love. I’d decided to stop dating for a while at that point because the dating pool was more of a muddy puddle. I also remember looking around me at the men who passed by and and thinking that if that elusive right guy did exist he was probably in this city... or somewhere nearby. He damn sure wasn't in California. I said a quick, silent prayer for the City to help that right guy find me. Chicago had saved my life a couple years before so I figured it could do it again. That was in 2013. Flash forward 4 years and a couple of  good lessons later and I’m riding shotgun to a Vons parking lot  in Calabasas with my bff to deliver food to her husband and his crew who are working to restore power after some historic wildifires nearly ruined my state. I get out of the car to grab the food bags and her hubby introduces me to his devastatingly handsome coworker. As I shook his hand I remember thinking to myself that his wife was a lucky woman. While still shaking his hand I wondered if he actually was married... couldn't see any evidence on his strong, working man hand. A month later that same handsome man turns out to be the guy my bffs hubby wants to set me up with, so clearly not married.  He walked into the local sports bar to meet us for drinks and my heart skipped a beat or three. I remembered his eyes immediately. I looked into those eyes as he sat next to me at the table and all I could think about was kissing him or holding his hand or slow dancing  like teenagers. I just wanted to be as close to him as possible for as long as possible. It’s been almost a year and I don’t feel any different except maybe I feel it even more, on a deeper level. Chicago conspired with God and my best friends husband to send me the man I’d been waiting for.  A good man, an old school gentleman who loves his mom and treats his ex wife well. A man with Midwest roots and California sunshine in his heart. A man with the most beautiful  eyes and most glorious beard I’ve ever seen. I could gush about him all day but I won’t. I’ll just say if you’re still looking for your magic man, don’t give up. He’s out there, waiting for you to be who YOU need to be. Say your prayers, do your work and maybe make a trip to the bridge at Wabash and Wacker .. bring a padlock if you do.