The Slip

“Not everyone wants to parent, which is a choice that should be respected for both men and women. But if we only choose to interpret compassion for children as parenthood, we seek to dismiss the interest and efforts of many who are invested in the well-being of our kids.” — “Koa Beck, Deputy Editor of Mommyish

To have children or to not have children? This question has been a dervish whirling in my mind for years, but the nitty gritty truth is that I’m really asking, “Why am I still asking this question at all?”

I live in the Midwest, where it’s pretty odd to be of a certain age and married without kids. On the flip side, I know a few people who are living with very difficult parenting situations. So there is a bit of outside pressure coming from both angles. But most of the pressure I feel comes from within, and it’s not to have children or to not have children. It’s to make up my damn mind.

I’m a fairly all-or-nothing person, so I feel uncomfortable having mixed feelings about anything, really, but especially something like a life-changing decision. I have 100% certainty about other major factors in my life— my marriage, my family/friend relationships, my career goals, my faith— so why is this different?

I think it’s the control freak in me. Must. Have. Plan.

But it’s not like I’m choosing between chicken or fish here. There are a lot of LIFELONG bells and whistles and strings attached. The only other thing I can think to compare this conundrum to is the epic back and forth that was my relationship with The Hub before we got engaged and married. And that gives me some peace…

Hub and I have known each other for… 15? years now, and were on and off again for at least half of those. And after so much uncertainty, literally all of the sudden there came a moment when I was absolutely sure I wanted no one else (I was in the middle of a jog and we hadn’t spoken in 2 years! what??).

So, if I were logical (hmm), I would just assume that the same kind of realization will happen again re: babies. Someday, when the time is right, I’ll just know, one way or the other. Which seems like an awfully idealistic expectation for a logical person… hmm, paradox… But the conclusion I usually end up with all the same.

Can’t. Have. Plan. Yet. Haha, that’s so hard to accept sometimes!

Hub and I have had the discussion, of course, and we’re pretty much on the same “who knows?” page. Which is the most important thing to me at this point. But it’s fun to bounce thoughts and feelings off of other people, too… for better and for worse. Even the most unnerving confrontations—err, conversations can leave you feeling more confident in your identity :)

Which leads me to that lovely quote from Mommyish. My uncertainty about whether or not to have children does not stem from insecurity, rebelliousness (Well, maybe a little. Hub and I do congratulate ourselves sometimes, haha.) or some elusive self-actualization. I’m very happy with my life as it is. REALLY. And that is why I’m not sure— At the moment, I don’t have the desire strong enough to want to mess with a great thing. It is a healthy and responsible stance and worth respect, not perplexity.

I’ve always been a bit off the edge of “normal” and I don’t mind continuing to be in this area… I just don’t appreciate when people assume there’s something wrong with me because of it. Or that I don’t like/have any knowledge of/concern for kids in general. Or that I haven’t put thought into it. Some people just don’t want to be parents. Some because they don’t like kids or because they can’t even spread jam safely, sure. But for most, I think it’s simply because their lifestyle, personality or beliefs dis-behoove them. Yes, I made up that word. 

This principle, I like to call it “responsible choice-making,” can be applied to any life crossroads. I’m a fan of drastically simplified metaphors, so here you go: I choose not to have cable because I don’t want to pay for it. I considered the options and said “Nope, it’s not for me.” That does not mean that I’m not able to pay for cable or that I don’t know its value. I love to spend time with my family’s and friend’s cable on occasion and actually know a lot about it. Kids, too, as it happens.

I still don’t know whether or not I want to have children, and the uncertainty sometimes bothers me. It definitely bothers me when people judge me for it. But what I do know for certain is this: no matter what happens with my ovaries, I’m so grateful to be free and with the means to make the decision at all, and that I have unconditional help and support of people who love me.

And in true Slip fashion, I will attempt to let go of the lack-of-plan worries, no matter how many people tell me my body parts are ticking… wankers :)

Yours Truly,

Happily Childless So Far

One of the things I find to be the most difficult to accomplish is the art of getting over screwing up.

We know we’re not perfect, we know Murphy’s Law, and we’re completely aware of the odds, but it still stings when it happens. Sometimes it even debilitates us. The not good enough. The oops. The I should have thought about that before I did/said it.

For me, it’s an ego slash fear of failure (which, really, ends up being an ego thing in the end) thing. Not dealing with imperfections saves me the hassle and pain of acknowledging that I fell short in some way. But it also spares me from learning anything and getting better.

Accepting imperfections is a cathartic process— almost like grieving (your ideals?), you go through denial, anger, guilt and depression before the light at the end of the tunnel that is “oh well” appears. And that sucks. It compleeeetely sucks to truly feel and live in your unworthiness, if only for a moment.

But we have to do it. It’s how the cookie crumbles… literally :)

Anyway. Things will fall apart, bad things will happen, and you might even hate yourself for a time. I know I do when I’m heaving and wheezing after running only 2 laps around the track… But if life is nothing else, it is constantly evolving, and tomorrow is quite literally a new day. And so we must evolve, too, if we can only admit our weaknesses long enough to conquer them.

And you never know, a mistake could turn out to be the best thing that ever happened to you. Look at Marilyn. Obviously her flub was staged, but even in the staging, she “fell” with grace, and the image of her doing so is one of the most iconic of all time. Her dress flying up over her head wouldn’t have been nearly as sexy if she had been put out or run away, right?

So when we do something awful/stupid, I say go ahead and scream. At first it may sound like the anger and frustration you feel, but then pull a Marilyn and turn it into something triumphant.

Say it loud and proud (and with a giggle perhaps?): I suck, I know it, and it’s going to be ok! I mean, if we were all pretty perfect and there weren’t obvious “wrongs,” think about how much cage fighting would have to happen to settle differences!

*That was supposed to sound appalling and detrimental to the human race, but it actually sounds awesome, doesn’t it? OOPS :)*

Well, I’m 30. And in the weirdness of realizing that at least 1/3 of my life is over, 2 major lessons have hit me over the head… 

1. Be thankful for who/what you have, and make it apparent as much as possible. Many of the things I find myself complaining about are actually things I’m very grateful for—I just take them for granted and demand them to be perfect. My job, my body, my relationship, my bank account, my schedule, myself. None of these things will ever be perfect. I need to remind myself more often that it’s FINE that they’re not perfect. Probably better. They’re great things and I am a lucky and better person because of them—just the way they are.

Positivity in itself makes everything 100% better.

2. Do the things you want to do. Don’t wait. Don’t overthink and plan and don’t be responsible all of the time. Do it! Ride that airplane, call that person, write that novel, go to Paris, sing that song, say what you need to say! Get over yourself, your pride, your laziness, your negative influences and make your life happen.

Me, I’m a writer who doesn’t write very often. That isn’t what I want. So here I am, writing about it. Haha. There’s gotta be a first step, right? :)

The point is: As much as we don’t like to think about it, life is short and so much of what happens to us IS up to us. Sure, some people are thrown into success and power without having to lift a finger, but the same thing can be said for those who are thrown into disaster and loss. So, as I celebrate myself and getting this far, I also want to celebrate the fact that I have choices and the means and will to make them.

So here I stand, looking out from the edge of this figurative mountain of adulthood—tired, excited, scared and accomplished— I raise a glass to happy thoughts, bold moves and another 30 years of figuring things out <3

Yep, I’m still here. And, indeed, I am returning triumphant! Sh*t is being shaken, good habits have been established— including a decrease in internet-time — and I feel pretty great about that! *Muscle flex*

More to come on said victories and general growing pain conquering, negativity slipping stories!

Triumphant return? Not really, but returning to blogness nonetheless. It’s been a really busy summer. I’ve been jam-packing my life with volunteer projects (good), stress, staying up too late, drinking too much, and eating crap (baaaad). It’s been fun, but I feel like I’m in that college-half-awake-half-hungover-nearly-crazy state most of the time. Ew.

Definitely not The Slip material.

It’s time to move on. Fall is coming, and I’m going to KILL myself if I can’t fit into my beautiful sweaters/tights/jeans! But more importantly, I have two big events coming up, and I just plain need to get my butt in gear to prepare.

No excuses. No procrastinating. I’m giving bad habits The Slip- big time! And the incredible Julie Newmar (photo) is my inspiration.

BIG SCARY GOAL #1: Halloween. A group of friends has decided that going as a group of Batman villains is the best idea ever. I don’t disagree, especially since I have dibs on miss kitty (And if we see a Batman, we’re going to mob him, and it will be a story for the ages.). I’m a pretty big Batman fan, and the 60’s version of Catwoman has always been a personal favorite. She’s wicked, incredibly clever, and there’s that wonderful sexual tension between she and the Bat. And of course the oh-so-not-subtle purring. Super fun.

So I’ve decided that in order to motivate myself to take better care of myself (instead of wallowing in the why???s and pouting), I’m going to squeeze into that jumpsuit come October 31, come what may. It could be an epic triumph. It could be very, very gross. It’s up to me!

BIG SCARY GOAL #2 Tough Mudder.

The Tough Mudder is a marathon/mud race/obstacle course thing http://toughmudder.com/. Basically you run through 10 miles of all kinds of shit with a team of people. The Lover did his first one last month, and it was an incredible thing to watch. They had lots of fun, but it was also a huge accomplishment- physically, and most of the proceeds go to the Wounded Warrior Project (injured vetarans non prof). I’m committed to participating in one 1 week before my 30th birthday- March 2012.

I need to be in MUCH better shape. Specifically, I’d like to lose 20lbs and be able to run at least 5 miles straight. And I have 7 months in which to do it.

Possible, but I have to ya know… do it.

I recently got a new haircut (after 2ish years of growing it out to donate it), and I have a bounce in my step and a bit of that shiny-new feeling. So this is going to be it- when I start over again and try for the 723rd time to follow through with my big ideas.

Today is a new day, and I can be and do whatever I am driven to be and do. And something about the cat’s pajamas. :)

EDIT: ps. look at the sweet lion’s head in julie’s background. it’s wearing PEARLS! and eating something nondescript… meooow!

With dirt and shame crusting beneath my fingernails, I crawl up from the depths. Of holyshitbusypantsgraaahdom.

I have a tendency, when things get a wee hectic, to throw all good habits and pride to the wild winds and do whatever it takes to prod myself through the day/week/year. This survival-yet-ironically-self-destructive mode usually involves a temporary binge of vices and less and less sleep.

It’s mildly comforting, but not quite helpful. See #ramen noodles. And sometimes completely a bad idea. See #Hot In Cleveland super marathon.

I’ve tried singing my anthem, grabbing anchors (it’s just a job, it’s just a job, lookie money!) and chucking old stuff from my closet. The standard Slips just aren’t getting me back on track, because… well, sometimes life’s gloomy minions of the daily grind army SUCK, and you feel their little fists banging on your head no matter what you do.

Right?

Sometimes shit gets to you. We’re just people. And stuff. Suffering is what we do best. At least we have the blues to show for it (insert awesome skat riff)! And every Meryl Streep movie (insert humble/actuallysmug smile). And Chris Caraba (insert… nevermind.).

It’s the bouncing back from the dothisgoheremakethiscallhimnowrundobetter trance that’s tricky. Perhaps thinking about bouncing can be induced by chilling to some Regina Spektor and eating non-processed food…