I married a mirror

“I like the Charcoal one. I like the dark grey one. But I like the Charcoal and it would look so good in that color. Well, I think the dark grey would work better. Charcoal. Grey.  CHARCOAL! GREY!” ect, ect, ect…. It could go on like this for days.

This is what happens when you marry a mirror. I should have known better. My husband and I waste most of our time arguing the same point when deciding on anything from wall color to what we want for dinner. It is exhausting. We think similarly on politics and family, have similar tastes in aesthetics and alcohol, and yet we agree on nothing. We were raised by families with a strong work ethic, yet somehow we both ended up in the Arts with zero attention span. We are both Aries (my birthday is the day before his), and while this might contribute to our bull headed arguments where we both feel we are the one in the right, I feel most of our disagreements are just the ridiculous projected ramblings that go on naturally in our heads. It is as if I am trying to convince myself on a point and so I try to convince my husband when he already agrees. It is a weird and useless thing we do. To be honest, I have never seen myself more than since I’ve been married. I really do feel like I married a mirror. I constantly have to see myself for who I am and I enjoy this new perspective. I’m glad I have my husband and a better grasp on who I am, but sometimes there are the moments I miss singledom and the cloud of escapism it can provide.   

Superman is dead

Superman went down in flames this week. He fell from his lofty view and crashed and burned and he deserves every little bit if his demise. My step-father being the all American dad with wholesome family values, the guy who would pull over and help a stranded driver on the side of the road, change their tire, and then give them some extra gas money to make sure they get home safe, the MacGyver man who could build anything and I mean anything out of anything decided to construct a double life for the last 5 years with his high school sweetheart in Arkansas unbeknown to my devoted mother. Now I know men cheating on their wives is nothing new but I also know men have evolved enough to be in control of their libido.

There have been multiple relationships that have recently ended in infidelity and my question is:  What happened to men growing up to be a good man? What happened to them wanting to be Clark Kent, Brandon Walsh or even Al Bundy, while a cynical character, he was ultimately a good father and husband. Now men admire and covet the Hank Moodys, Charlie Harpers and Greg Houses. Womanizing, disrespectful and completely narcissistic. 

I want my good guys back. I think we all deserve it and should accept nothing less.

Passing the reigns

I think it is time to pass the reigns. I complain about my husband not doing enough for me or being pro active enough with our son but in reality he does a good job. I’ve come to realize that I may have a bit of a problem just one day after beginning my New Years resolution of taking more time for myself. I have a tendency to be a little controlling. I’m not the creative free spirit may of my friends are. I am a controlled creative and that just can’t be good. You just have to look in obvious places and my bad habit is screaming out. Hanging in my closet all my clothes all face the same direction divided by category of shirt, sweater, dress, skirt, pant and each section orderly from short to long. There will be no sweatpants intermixed with my stack of denim. My sock all have mates and they are folded together nicely in the drawer together. Black t-shirts with black t-shirts and everything folded and stack as if you were in a store. Maybe it was my years of working in retail that infested me with crisp folds and straight stacks but I can’t stop and my compulsion doesn’t stop there. Just look in the kitchen cabinets or the towels in the bathroom. It’s like the famous saying, ‘A place for everything and everything in its place.’ Only my desk has escaped this strange game of Tetris my mind plays of neatly fitting all the pieces together. What I mean by all of this is that I may have become a bit overbearing with my clothes, my house and with my son since he was born. He and I just spent so much time together in the first 6 months of his life because of his relentless breastfeeding that my husband never really had the opportunity to get to know him the way I did. I just found it easier to take over every situation and get it under control rather than let my husband figure out how to be a dad. Now my son is a year old and gets a long just fine. He’ll let you know when he is thirsty, tired or hungry. He doesn’t need to be micromanaged and I don’t want to be that type of mother. It is time for me to let go and let my husband take over a bit more. It is scary and I may just start organizing my desk to fill the compulsive void but I think things will all run a little smoother now.  

Morning Mountain

It’s New Year Day at dawn. The house is dark and quiet and I have found a place for my thoughts. No babbling toddler pulling at my thigh, no husband trying to escape into his cave in the back yard. Only the jingle of the dog’s collar, as he scratches himself, and the click of keys as my fingers lay my voice to the page. Aahhh! Silence is awesome.

I’ve decided my goal this New Years is to find more time for myself. I have found one place that my thoughts can run wild and uninterrupted. It is in a place called 5:00 am. Recently a fellow mother of two young children, who is also my neighbor, and myself have discovered, that we can still get a little peace of mind together by hiking Eaton Canyon before dawn. We leave the kids and husbands at home tucked in their beds all warm and dreaming of their dreams and we grab our flashlight, jump in the car and head about 2 miles up the street where the San Gabriel Mountains meet suburbia. We walk in the pitch dark with wildlife rustling in the bushes, muddy twisting trails sheer, and cliffs. We make our way up to a precipice, looking over the city of Los Angeles as the sun rises and we both find our moment of peace and calm that helps us get through the loud chaos of the upcoming day. My husband thought we were crazy and irresponsible. Last summer there was a brown bear the size of my car in a tree six doors down and we’ve seen the coyotes cruising the streets for small pets early in the morning. He pointed out that bears and mountain lions don’t hibernate here in Southern California and that we are putting ourselves in outrageous and selfish danger. Well, that maybe but I’m not giving it up. When she is unavailable, I still wake at 5am, grab my flash light and power walk alone from my house all the way uphill to the entrance of the Canyon and back again. This is the only excitement or alone time I’ve found. Hiking by moonlight with the threat of bears, lions or coyotes having me for breakfast…what am I doing? Maybe my husband is right? Maybe I should have considered an affair instead. There would be elements of danger and excitement, but that would mean another man in my life and still no alone time. No dick is worth that. Fuck it! I’ll take my chances with wild animals. Mountain here I come.