Guess which is which. (Hint: the pronoun the clue..........)
Hellooooo there! I misstcha. Spring Break with the captl S and B is over and now we're grindin on reg-uuu-laaar life again, headed toward Summer Vacation with the captl S and V so I am here here I am to allow what I found in my head during the time I sat on the beach contemplatively last week. Don't hold your breath for anything grand. Really. Remember. I am blonde. Har.
I read a few books while we were gone and even more magazines - gosh seems like I can speed read while on vacation does that happen to you? anyway once I stick my nose in one (book that is) I can't extract it until I lay my eyes on the last word, to the great pleasure and prolly also the immense annoyance of my handsome husband if he dares get hungry . . . but cest la vie he does know where the kitchen is and how to feed his own and our children's pieholes. Oopsie did I digress?
Anyway when I read that many books in a short period of time, there are words, phrases, concepts that always "stick" to me when I read, in my head, ones I love, ones that make me go hmmmm, ones that just sit on my head stick to me so hard I can't shake them off ones that sink right down through to my bones sit in my core because they're so striking or so "OH!" or so "ME" as in MEaningful or so plagiaristic, that is to say ones that are so terrific I WISH they were mine or they SHOULD be mine ding dang it..... but sadly..... not so much. Or maybe it's because I'm supposed to do something with them? *scratch . . . head . . .blink . . . eyes . . . tweak . . . ear*
It's the ones that stick so much I can't shake them off that are such PESky lil boogers. I read somewhere in my voluminous vacation readings about two people who were very different, one who pressed sharply against life and was hurt by it fairly hard sometimes in return. The other one was the favorite one, favorite of family and destiny and found life and the world to be a comfortable and welcoming place. The minute I read it I felt every nerve ending in my body, every single one. I knew I'd remember every single word of both those sentences but I scrambled for pencil and paper just in case.
All the rest of the week those words stayed with me. Like a haunting they stayed. They kept coming up, like when you throw up in your MOUTH they kept coming up and yet at the same time I knew I had stumbled upon something I needed. Oddly that was comforting or it was going to be comforting sometime in the future, no, it already was. But whyyyyyyy. . . . .
Hmmm this is a good mystery. Mary Higgins Clark would approve. Meanwhile I read one of her mindless mysteries, which I (egotistically and from my amateur throne) declare to be worthless drivel and a total waste of money, badly written and abhorrently predictable.
Dinnertime comes and having just come in from the beach I tossed Ms. H. Clark onto the hydrangea wicker sofa. DH and brother look at me. Ruh roh. Here comes su-thin. They been drinkin beer at the beach.
DH: Can Jr Mint sit in your lap in the Expedition to the restaurant so we can all ride in one vehicle?
What I think: ARE YOU CWAZY MAN? ON THE ROAD? WHAT ARE YOU THINKIN? HOW MANY TIMES DO WE HAVE TO HAVE THIS DING DANG DISCUSSION? IT'S THE ROAD. THIS IS MY CHILD. HE NEEDS TO SIT IN THE SEAT. IN HIS BOOSTER. END OF DISCUSSION. GEEZ. Why do I always have to be the voice of reason?
WHAT I SAY: I don't think that would be safe, do you?
DH: It's only eight or ten blocks and we're on a beach that's not really that busy. We don't even have to get out on a main road.
What I think: DID YOU NOT HEAR WHAT I JUST THOUGHT?
WHAT I SAY: So you think that would be safe? I'd really rather not...I'll drive our car with the kids if y'all all just want to ride together and let SIL drive you.
So now DH and my brother both walk away annoyed and fairly scowling. And truly it is only a few blocks away from the beachhouse to the restaurant, and apparently the point was the two of them wanted to have a couple of drinks together while at the restaurant and The One Pressing Sharply fouled or foiled the plans of the One Who glides gently and is Comforted and Welcomed, (and his Cohort).
So but and (spoken like a true Pressing Sharply gnarl of the-what-for), why can't both sides live in tandem is what I wonder, now that I have the epiphany. I mean it's the A personality issue, clearly, and it's the same argument as Sales verses Administration, art department verses accounting department, teachers verses board of ed., parents verses kids, the list goes on forblippinever but the ol story is the same and the older you get well you'd just think you could solve it, live with it, get Ohhhhhhhhhver it. Mahhhhhhhh-an.
Malaise maybe? Living life uncomfortably - or having to work harder to be comfortable, control issues, perfectionism, or just feeling responsibility? Depends who you ask. Decisions, life in general, much smoother for my handsome husband and I envy him that at times with every fiber that makes up my Sharp Pointy Pressy Self.
Everything's relative, perhaps it comes down to picking your battles. My children? Their safety? THE battle to pick every time. Prolly still was a little over the top, considering I watched other folks haul their kids in Jeeps with no roll bars down the same beachy streets all week long, but it just has no bearing so why do I wake up in the middle of the night whimpering all piteeful Why Am I The Bad Guy When I'm Doing The RIGHT Thing????? The Unselfish Thing? It's So Not FAIRRRRR! Waaaaaaah!!!!
Pressy sharp pointy person I am, I got a million examples just like that one. Doesn't matter. Budget, kids, schedule, homework, bedtime well that's schedule isn't it anyway Why Am I The Bad Guy When I'm Doing The RIGHT Thing????? The Unselfish Thing? It's So Not FAIRRRRR! Waaaaaaah!!!!
There's no answer is there, except life's not fair, but at the least I want to have the courage of my convictions but not be the bad guy, maybe can I at least be a nice guy while I'm being a bad guy? Or can I be the prettiest guy or at least wearing pretty clothes with a good haircut and fabulous shoes when I force my children to bed on time even though their father would've let them stay up? And as I do this may I close my eyes and repeat the sage mantra of every lone Mom with no support on bedtime issues: *someday they'll understand, someday they'll understand, someday they'll understand*
