Tag Archives: life

Things I Wonder While Watching “Sex In The City” Season 3

1. Do women in their 30’s still obsess about getting married? I keep reading people don’t want to get married anymore. So I am assuming thirty-something women probably no longer spend this much time worrying about men…or do they? Someone fill me in. I’m out of the loop!

2. Does Carrie end up getting lung cancer later,  in the movies that take place after the TV show (I just finished season 3)? The cigarette smoking! It makes me cough just to watch. All I can think about is how bad her hair must smell and her breath and I wonder if her apartment has nicotine stains dripping down the walls. I know, it’s not about the smoking, but it totally is, isn’t it? There are many gratuitous smoking scenes. It’s all so 1990, isn’t it? I’m horrified in 2014 and a little more than grossed out.

3. Do people in their 30’s really have that many sexual partners or are we, as humans, more concerned with disease than we used to be? I mean, I know there is some “hook up” crowd that got a lot of attention a while back, but didn’t that end about 15 years ago? Good grief, this analysis is making me feel so old. Tell me the truth.  Is Sex In The City still ringing true?

4. Do people still drink cosmopolitans and will I ever try one? I know you can’t answer if I will ever try one, but who wouldn’t want to? They look adorable and delicious. Maybe I can just pour some pink lemonade into a martini glass and call it a day. I’d probably wear high-heeled slippers (while sitting down) with pink feathers glued to the toe if I did. Because I’d want to do it right, ya know? I’m sure Tiny-Small is gluing feathers to my shoes right now anyway….

Things I wonder While watching sex in the city

5. Could a writer with one column get paid enough to pay Carrie’s rent and still have enough money to purchase all of those expensive shoes? Is this what blogging used to look like? Am I starting this thing too late? I mean, Carrie’s apartment is not the size of a closet so she must be getting paid fairly well, right? I’m so jealous. If I lived in the big city I’d probably be homeless. Actually, I’d be homeless in this small town too. Luckily, I’ve got Jim bringing home the bacon so I don’t starve.

6. Did I completely fail at being a 30 something? It sure feels like it. While I was slogging through my masters degree, buying houses, and having a kid I could have been dating tall, dark strangers, living like a queen in the city, staying out all night, and buying gorgeous shoes I couldn’t walk in or afford. I can’t help feeling like I missed the boat. I still can’t decide if that is good or bad. Maybe I’m just feeling smug because I don’t have any credit card debt.

7. I wish I could let Tiny-Small see Carrie’s outfits because I am pretty sure they have similar tastes in fashion. I mean that in the most positive way possible. Like, they both like giant flowers stuck in their clothes, hair, and everywhere.

Flower Power
Flower Power

8. I miss having a group of gal pals to go to lunch with and chat. I miss going to lunch. Heck, I miss eating an entire meal without having to get up to get someone some more milk. Sadly, I don’t know if I miss the lunch friends as much as I miss having my very own fork.

9. Why does Carrie’s hair seem to get less and less curly as the seasons go on? Let the woman rock her curls. Those curls made her a star. Then they take them away. Booooo!

10. How can I look as good as Samantha in my 40’s? No, seriously, because I’m turning 40 in less than 6 months. I have 6 months to transform myself into a tall, thin, Manhattan socialite. I’m pretty sure I could do it too if I could just put down those chocolate covered almonds….

I’ll Be In The Shower When You Get Here

If I invite you over, I’ll be in the shower when you get here. It’s some kind of universal law. I am always the last to get ready because I’m running around picking up, trying to get Tiny-Small dressed, or trying to squeeze in a quick blog post before you arrive. Even when I am ahead of schedule and jump in the shower early, I’ll still be in the shower when you get here because, for some reason, on that day, you will arrive a little early.

When You Get Here I'll Be In The Shower

It happens every time. I was thinking about this yesterday when I was in the shower and Jim quickly opened the door and said, “That guy is here about that thing already.” So, I had to rush around and rinse the soap off and pull on clothes as quickly as possible while having a flashback to my childhood.

My mother was also always in the shower when guests arrived. I don’t know if we have time management issues or just don’t delegate chores well or both, but somehow everyone else is ready when guests arrive and we are always in the shower.

These are the moment in my adult life when I am acutely aware of how much I am turning into my mother. It’s amazing how quickly it starts to happen. First, people will say you look alike. Then you start noticing you are adopting all of those weird habits your swore you never would. I always swore I’d be ready when people arrived, but here I am in the shower when everyone arrives. It’s like I can’t crack the code or break the spell. I am just turning into my mother at an increasingly rapid pace.

Abstract Purple Iris
A touch of Spring for your day!

I have so much more understanding for the struggles my mother faced when we are kids. I guess that is because I am living them now.  When you are running around trying to create a pleasant atmosphere, clean children, prepare food, and make your house look at least slightly better than usual right before someone comes over, it’s almost impossible to also make yourself look respectable in time. Running out of time happens so easily when you are focused on getting things done for everyone else. Your husband can’t find clean socks. Your daughter is hiding under the kitchen table refusing to brush her teeth and before you know it your guest is knocking at the door and you are still standing in the living room wearing blue, sheep pajamas with a Flock of Seagulls type hairdo.

I remember, eventually, that my mom just stopped doing all of the things for everyone else. She’d just say, “Don’t forget to bring a sweater.” If we forgot, oh well, we were cold. I guess I’ll get there eventually, but Tiny-Small is still small and our house will always be a bit chaotic. We are chaotic people. I can’t keep up with it all.

So, for now, when you get here I will be in the shower, but maybe one day, in like a decade or so, I’ll finally take a shower early and delegate better to my family. That day will be worth celebrating because our friends will finally know what I look like with dry hair.

One can only hope.


Asking For Help

Asking For Help itsadomelife.com

Asking for help doesn’t come easy for me, but I am getting better at it with practice and maturity. I’m more of a stubborn problem-solver, preferring to work alone until I figure out a solution. I think some of this comes from being introverted and enjoying the time to process problems, experiment with solutions, and discover what works and what doesn’t in my own time. Working alone is easier because there aren’t as many opinions or disruptions in the thought process. Some of this comes from being a shy kid and just being afraid to ask for help. Having to ask for help filled me with so much anxiety and dread that I learned to avoid having to do it at all by adopting a stubborn, “I can do it myself,” attitude. In some ways it has served me well.

I’ve moved heavy furniture by myself by putting a sheet under it and sliding it around until I got it into position. Due to my limited sewing ability, I once figured out how to reupholster a couch with fabric, a hot glue gun, and a prayer. I’ve piled things on top of other things to create a makeshift ladder when I didn’t have access to a real one. I was able to reach things I never thought I’d be able to reach. Basically, I have found a way to get what I needed without asking for help. I am what people call independent and there isn’t anything wrong with that, unless you really do need help, which happens to all of us eventually.

Being “independent” has been my mode of operation for most of my life. Then, along comes Tiny-Small. She has no fear of asking for help. She’s actually quite the opposite of me. I often find myself telling her to at least try to do something by herself first before asking for help. I want her to be a good problem solver when she grows up and not be totally reliant on other people. The funny thing is I sort of get her point, why should she struggle for hours when someone else can show her how to do something in a couple of minutes? Or why should she do it when she can get someone else to do it for her? Asking for help certainly saves time and energy. It also creates bonds between people. Helping someone seems to make us care about each other more. When we help someone it’s like we are investing in them so we want to see the fruits of our labors pay off. Not to mention, that old saying, “I’ll scratch your back if you scratch mine,” didn’t develop out of thin air. There is a lot of truth to that. When you help people they are much happier to help you in return. We are social creatures, I mean, that’s what the scientists keep telling us, right?.

So, here we are, Tiny-Small and I have different skills and different strengths, but we are teaching each other how to live happier and more successful lives. I mean, just a few days ago I was showing Tiny-Small how she could use a lawn chair to help her climb onto a slightly out-of-reach swing and then kick the chair out-of-the-way once she is ready to start swinging. Meanwhile, almost daily, she is teaching me the importance of reaching out to other people and asking for help. She’s teaching me there is no shame in not knowing how to do everything or in relying on the expertise and strengths of other people at least some of the time. In some ways she is teaching me how to be a better friend or how to even make new friends. Not too long ago we visited a new park. Tiny-Small was up on a jungle gym when she saw another little girl was afraid to cross a bridge, so she went right up to her, held her hand, and brought her across the bridge. They were instant friends. It’s kind of strange to think that a three-year old child is teaching a 38-year-old woman how to make friends. You have no idea how much relief I feel when I see her making friends so easily. I’ve been so afraid that she would be shy like I was as a child. I’ve outgrown most of that now, but I am still not great at making new friends. I am so glad she is. Her childhood will probably be much happier than mine was. This makes me happy and sigh deeply in relief. Phew!

I thought as a parent that I would be doing most of the teaching. I thought I would be showing my daughter how to live a good life. It turns out this relationship is a journey filled with mutual growth. I am quite certain she is teaching me more about how to live a good life than I will ever teach her. Most importantly, right now, she is showing me the importance of asking for help. I am asking for help more often now and that slight change in behavior is opening doors for me, doors I never thought possible. It’s also making my life richer. I am really grateful to have Tiny-Small in my life. She is one of the best things that ever happened to me.