As I See Myself Better, I'm Trying to Keep My Back to the Mirror

"It doesn't happen all at once. 

You become. 

It takes a long time. 

That's why it doesn't often happen

to people who break easily,

or have sharp edges,

or who have to be carefully kept. 

Generally, by the time you are Real,

most of your hair has been loved off,

and your eyes drop out

and you get loose in the joints

and very shabby. 

But those things don't matter at all, 

because once you are Real, you can't be ugly, 

except to people who don't understand."

-The Velveteen Rabbit, by Margery Williams

The other day, Anna told me that my eyebrows were "boys" eyebrows. Today, Henry told me my nose was really long and maybe, if I'm lucky, I could turn into an elephant when I grow up.

Last week, I went out with some new friends for Galentine's Day and a 20-something told me I had "great skin for 36."

HAHAHAHAHAhahahahahaha. heh.

Aging, and physical appearance in general, is a tricky, loaded thing. We have this one body our whole life, and, from an early age, we have concerns about it and goals for it. I don't mean cholesterol points and bone integrity goals, I mean goals about how thin, how young, how flawless, how same as everyone else, we're supposed to be. It's much discussed how inundated we are with images of the agreed-upon physical beauty standards and how advertisements are so influential to how we feel about ourselves and how we spend our stress/money/time/self esteem. And generally the older the body gets, the harder it is to stay ahead of those concerns and to meet the goals.

BUT, the magic in aging is you get wise. You stop letting those marketers selling shiny thigh gaps tell you that it has to be one of your concerns. You've seen some stuff, you've survived some stuff, your goals have changed. You know your face and legs and boobs and brows is about the least interesting thing about you.You are your stories, your strength, your courage, your love, your faith, your energy, your humor, your fortitude. The rest of it is just fluffy static. I think if we're doing the aging thing right, the body concerns have less impact and the goals relax because we're focused on bigger heart/brain stuff for ourselves. We're trying to be brave and real, good and purposeful.

So, my body is not whatever they tell me perfect should be but I'm great with it. There's freedom in critically assessing the expectations sold to us and calling out their harmful bullshit. I'm getting better at it. It takes a lot of work and time. I still play by more rules than I wish I did. It's a process.

About my eyebrows, I told Anna, "I have thick hair there because that's how it grows because I'm a mammal." Dude, we ALL have 'boy eyebrows,' just some of us dig them to by the root and some of us largely let them be. I thought, you'll be sorely disappointed to find out where else mammals grow 'boy' fur, honey bunch.

About my elephant trunk for a nose...I told him I like it because it does a good job smelling, and it's like my grandma's and my dad's and it makes me think of my family. It's characteristically ours. My nose used to be one of my top concerns. It used to bother me so much. It was the most prominent thing I got teased about in youth, next only to my ridiculous height (girls are supposed to be short and slow and weak, haven't you heard?). Now I truly could care less. Now, if you're going to make fun of me, let it be about my content, or it's not going to hurt me. If you hate my jokes or you think I'm a jerk, I'm listening, but if you're bothered by my face or my body, that's on you, not me anymore. AND YET STILL, if I do eventually become an elephant when I grow up, my first order of business is to step on Henry.

The twenty-something who was trying to throw me some pity about my oldness asked me what my secret to looking young was, and I told her coconut oil...but then a few minutes later she went outside to smoke a cigarette and when she got back I got to share with her another super secret anti-aging beauty trick I have. (Ahem.) I was (almost) not even judgmental because I am so evolved. You're welcome.

What else? I have a deep worry line in my forehead. It's mine, I earned it. I'm keeping it. I exercise to stay healthy and strong and so I can outrun predators and because I yell at my kids less when I do.

Overall, I'm happy with how I look but more importantly, I care less and less.

While I was writing this, and eating chocolate chips by the handful out of the bag, as one does, Anna come up and asked if she could have some ch(l)ocolate. I told her she could have the same number as she is years old, so she got 3 chocolate chips.

Guess what? I'm almost 40. Bam. So many perks. Suck it, youngins, less chocolate for you.

I Can't Even Pretend to Be Nice to You Anymore. Happy Valentine's Day.

Years ago, a good friend of mine lived in Anchorage, Alaska for a while (cool, right?) and wrote for a newspaper in the tiny fishing village where the show "The Deadliest Catch" was filmed (REALLY cool, right?). She told me about one of the events she covered while she was there called the "Eskimo-Indian Olympics." They've been doing it for 60 some years and the competitions test the athletes for qualities/skills that at some point in history would have been useful for survival; courage, persistence, strength, stamina, etc.

The most intriguing of the events is the "ear pull." The competitors sit across from each other and have a loop of string that they both place behind their ear and they pull against each other until someone pulls the string off their oponent or someone gives up.

There is blood and pain. See below.



I'm guessing this event tests perseverance and stamina, fortitude, mind-over-matter-ness, self control, etc.

But, really, I think it's a great test to see if you can withstand marriage.

Think about it. You're stuck together with a bind. When one of you leans back, it impacts the other one and they have to lean forward or risk losing an ear.

OK, not that, maybe, but they have to lean with you, or risk pain. Your movements impact their movements, and vise versa. If you resist, it sucks for both of you. The more you test your own strengths and limits, the more the other person is impacted.

You could just both sit up straight quietly facing each other without pain or blood, but that's not how either of you develop. That's not how growth happens. Eventually you get bored and walk away.

In our experience, when one partner is going through a big personal change, the other partner, naturally, freaks out. We've been through this a couple times in our 20 years together. One of us has a huge revelation and starts growing in a new direction. The other person might be intrigued or proud on an intellectual level, but that change is going to impact them in very personal ways, and that's scary. The change manifest in re-dividing home or child responsibilities, major family income changes, common interest changes, new friendships, new direction of identity or purpose, or new way of looking at life. These all shake up the status quo.

It's exhilarating to explore your new self, but it can wreak some havoc on normalcy of the relationship. If you feel like you're trying to grow and the other person is pulling back against you and you're both in pain for it, you get resentful, like they're holding you back.

"You don't get me."
"We've grown apart."
"I can't even pretend to be nice to you anymore."

These are things I've said in the past few years as we've both gone through major changes. The last one was especially uncomfortable. What I've fought for, is that I don't have to be less than what I am and that is 100% authentically me. If I'm not feeling connection, I can't fake it. I tried. I felt like I was moving in new directions and he couldn't come with me,  so I made nice about the distance. Then when that didn't work, I made really NOT nice about the distance, now finally I'm trying to find a place in the middle where we can hear each other again. I let up on pulling back and he's leaning in more. My insistence on protecting my growth will in the end be good for both of us, but man it burns on the way.

Our ears are barely hanging on by an ear thread. But it's something. Hopefully it will be reinforced or replaced with something better by our continued work and marriage counseling.

What we've learned (are learning) is it's the responsibility of the person going through the big transition to be patient, direct, clear, honest, tender and graceful to their partner and for the person witnessing the transformation to also be patient, direct, clear, honest, encouraging, and graceful as it happens.

Growth happens in each person through the course of a relationship, of course. Sometimes it happens in little spurts, sometimes in huge leaps. The relationship will have to be flexible and malleable and able to change with it,  or it will snap.

And you will lose an ear. DO YOU HEAR ME? YOU WILL LOSE AN EAR.

OK, enough big girl lessons we're trying to learn today. Ugh.

Here are some Valentine's Cards for long-term relationships that the Think Tank has helped me thunk up.

'Oh, you're still here.'

'Thank you for making me coffee this morning. I guess the murder I had planned can wait until tomorrow.'

'I love you even though you're you.'

'High-five for honoring contracts.'

'Romance DID mean fancy dinners and intercourse. Now it means sharing the spoon in the peanut butter jar and binge-watching old sitcoms.'

'I'm for sure not buying fancy underwear to impress you, but I did find that mustard you like on sale at the grocery store.'

'You're still better than dating strangers. Gross.'

'Here's a picture of the card I would have gotten you if we still celebrated.'

'Instead of a card, I'm going to actually try in bed tonight. No, just kidding. Here's  card with a pun about a train on it. That should help with your chronic disappointment.'

If you have others, please include them in the comments! 

Why Is This My Problem?

Everyone I know is in a funk. A deep, angry, scared, sad super funk. Anxiety and depression symptoms are sploding all over us. It's winter, it's gray, our TV shows are depressing and weird, we're all watching anxiously as major changes roll down from Washington and wash over our country and the world like hot poo...

Two things I have to say about that. Wait, three. Wait, nine. Hang on. Let me collect myself.

OK.

1. Keep your head up, your eyes open and your brain as clear and focused as you can.

2. Heal others in the ways you are capable. If you're good at cooking, cook. If you're good at hugging, hug. If you're good at making solid jokes about 'hot poo,' do that. If you're good at protesting and fighting for change within the system, do that. If you're good at making art, for the love of God, ART.

Make yourself hope for others and get hopeful yourself. No one is served when we wallow. It's tempting. It's really hard to find a path out of it, but do. One step at a time, make your way up. Others will help you and you will help them.

3. If you're wondering, "why am I feeling so upset by the potential injustices that are coming for others when it doesn't affect me that much personally? I don't have a child with special needs. My family immigrated here generations ago, there's no dispute over our papers. I am heterosexual. I am wealthy. I look like the people in charge, they seem to be supporting my interests."

Congratulations! If you're still worked up about all this, it means you're not a sociopath. You live in a way that identifies the needs and problems of more than just the person living in your head or the people living in your house. You have empathy. It sucks! It's terrible feeling the pain of others, but deal with it. This DOES affect you, because you are a member of the people. Sorry about that. It's a pretty nasty club, but don't hide from feeling, don't stop yourself from going there and feeling the burden of others. But do make sure you're able to still do #1 while your heart is breaking. Balance. We need you.

That's all I got for now. If you have advice or corrections or encouragement, I'll take it. I'm going to try to keep writing and keep telling jokes. Those are ways I think I can offer some healing.

Knock knock.
(Who's there?)
Interrupting cow.
(Interrupt-)
MOOOOOOOO.

Try that one on a child and they will LOVE it but you will regret ever doing it because children don't understand jokes and they will try to replace the cow with a talking hat or sandwich and you'll get a headache as it spirals away from reason. But at least you made them laugh.

All I Understand is Pastry/How to Adult with More Than One Kid

We decide to reproduce and have a child because we are biologically compelled to do so. We decide to have a second child because we remember reading in school about how farming families had, like, a dozen kids who would raise each other and take care of the duties of the farm and we are thus led to believe that the first kid will care for and be entertained by the second kid and we’ll go back to being left alone. 

This is incorrect. 

It just means that once you have more than one kid in the house, never is SOMEONE not ominously turning the knob on the other side of the bathroom door going, MOMMY, WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN THERE? I’ve started answering, “Eating pizza and playing with the good Play-Doh, what are you doing out there?” 

Because fucket. A little longing builds character and I have to go to work to take a decent shit anymore.

We’re over 3 years into this whole two kids running our lives thing and it’s just now getting to the point where they may play pleasantly together without trauma or request for supervision for a full 5 minute stretch.  

They are beautiful and delightful and draining and difficult. It’s just the way it is, I think. I have friends who have way more than two kids and I look at the adults who did that on purpose like saintly aliens. Why….? How…? Peace be with you. I also have friends who somehow ended up with twins, which is NO STAGGERING OF THE BABIES, take it all at once, and they are trying to figure out how in the world to put the correct shoes on their own feet, much less on the four new feet they’re suddenly responsible for. It’s so daunting and disorienting. They deserve a door-to-door chocolate cake service for the rest of their lives. 24 hours/day. Cake on demand. 

Maybe that’s my message. I don’t know. I’ve had a bunch of wine. Maybe it’s just that we’re all overwhelmed and freaked out and drinking from the fire hose (and wine bottle and peanut butter jar). No one knows what we’re doing. If you feel off-balanced, we’re right there with you, hopping on one foot, leaning against each other and the wall. 

The other day my Yoda-like sister said, “I’ve decided there’s no such thing as an actual adult. We were led to believe one day we would ‘get there’ and ‘be one’ but I think it’s all a hoax.” 

I think she’s right. We’re all just babies being babies raising babies. We have occasional epiphanies and stretches of evolution, strokes of wisdom, but mostly we’re terrified and insecure and weird and worried. We want to rescue the world from itself but all we can muster is eating a stack of pancakes. 

The existential crises we’re all in right now after this election, coupled with the responsibility of providing for our families….woo. I love that I am in a family of four, but I’m feeling very doubtful that I can reliably take care of myself, let alone them. Where does that leave the rest of them?

I don’t know what to do about any of this except make the pancakes and order the cake. Pastry is all I’ve come up with. Anyone else?