The Switzerland in my Life

Today my son turns 27.  He went from being the youngest of my children for 18 years to being the middle child when his sister Kaila was born.  The greatest gift a child can give to his mother is unconditional love, and my son has always been generous with me in that way.  When he was 17, his father and I separated.  He didn't choose sides, although his older sister did for a long few weeks.  He was the Switzerland in my life.  He always said he just wanted me to be happy, but I don't know if I ever returned the sentiment to him.  Thinking back over the last 10 years or so, his life has changed so dramatically, but yet, he has not.  He lost a family unit that was all he knew for 17 years, but yet, embraced the new family that I found myself sharing with him.  He lost a best friend, tragically, that I don't think he has recovered from yet.  But he still keeps making new friends.  He is me, and I am him.  I couldn't be prouder of him or love him any more than I do.

I heard a poem today by e.e. cummings with the line, "I hold your heart in my heart," and that is where my son belongs and will always have a place.

I am not the kinda mother who smothers her children, I let them grow up to be who they were meant to be, and my son is a man that I am proud to say I raised.  I love you Christopher.  Now and forever.  You are the calm in my storms and sun in my sky.

The Circle of Friends

I have a BFF, yes, I truly do.  She is one of the most amazing people I know, and I have known her longer than I have known my youngest brother.  She has always been there for me, and I am forever grateful to her. 

She has an amazing assortment of friends, that unbeknownst to her, I am truly jealous of.  She has her "college" friends, who get together and relive their past indiscretions and dorm antics, she has her "work" friends, she has her "other" friends, and then she has me.  She has shared her college friends with me a couple times, and I had a great time and went home wishing I had attended college, or better yet, college parties, instead of getting married at 20.  Now her memory of this is that I wrote her a letter telling her I was buying life insurance with my now-ex husband, while she was hanging out in her dorm room, waiting to go to a party. 

We are so polar opposite that I think that is why we have remained friends for dare I say it, almost 45 years!  I am heavy metal and alternative, I think she listens to KYW.  She travels the world, calling me on New Year's Eve one year from Paris; me, the furthest I have been in The Southernmost point in the US, and that was over 8 years ago.  But, still, we click, we talk, we share.  Because I am in a circle of friendship that includes only me and her. 

I am not the kinda girl who has many circles of friends, just alot of aquaintences, but those true friends that I do have, life my BFF, I cherish and thank God every day that they are there for me, and hope that I am always there for them.

Raising the White Flag

Being the offspring of an Irish mother and an Italian father, I guess I am genetically predisposed to love all that is starchy, full of so-called “bad” carbs, and sweet. Let's face it, at every family meal we had either a side of potatoes, in many different varieties, but mostly mashed or baked, or a side of pasta, whether ziti or linguine. And at the end of every meal, there was either a ricotta cheese cake or an Entenman's coffee cake to finish off the feast. So, it is not hard to imagine given these facts, that I am not the kinda girl who doesn't love to eat.

But therein lies my problem. Food. There I said it. It's not my lack of willpower to say no to a cheesy baked ziti, or my laziness that keeps me from working out, my issues lie with food itself. It tempts me every where I go. It smells good, it looks good, hell, its even better than sex sometimes. It doesn't judge you or talk back, it's only goal in life is to taste good and make you happy. In fact, it encourages you to keep trying it, so many varieties, so little time.

Why does it have to exist in my world? It's everywhere, from the local drugstore to the giant Super Walmart. Why can't I go into a store for say, a birthday card .. no big deal, but after the card is chosen and I am waiting in line to visit the cashier, there it is, that giant Hershey bar that is calling my name, choosing me, to be it's downfall. When actually I am not it's downfall, it is mine. How I wish I could turn away, ignore it's pleas, but I can not. So, while waiting, I grab the chocolate, open it up and ahhh, tastes so good it's a crime. After paying for my secret treat, I must destroy the evidence. I am not trying to hide it from anyone but myself. I curse myself for my lack of judgment in letting this inanimate creature invade my life and feel that if I just throw away the wrapper, it's almost as if I didn't eat it in the first place.

I do the same thing with cake .. I figure if there are three pieces left and I eat all three during the course of one day, it will no longer exist and I will not ever have to look at it or think about it again. And tomorrow, I will not eat at all. Crazy, I know, but this is how my mind works. There are so many kinds of foods that do this to me, that I just want to rid my house of food. Well good food. Keep the pickled beets, the scrapple, the eggs, the fruit, all the things my family likes to eat and I don't, and I think I may win this war, otherwise I am just gonna have to wave the white flag and give in to it's domination over my life.

Anyone got a spare white handkerchief?

How to create clutter without even trying!

Life teaches us many lessons, some of those we take to heart, and others we just pretend that we weren't in class that day. One of those lessons is that I am not the kinda girl who can just leave things be, let life take its course. No, not me. I must control everything and most of the time, I have no control over anything. Take, for example, my kids. Try as I might to make them the kinda girls who like to be clean and orderly, they are slobs. I have tried over and over again to make them see the light, that cleanliness is next to Mommy being happy. I bought them bins, I bought them Barbie cases, the more I bought to control the clutter, the more what I bought became part of the clutter. I have just about given up trying to control these two little terrors that become a super force against all that is orderly in my house. Not a morning goes by, that something sticky is spilled on my tablecloth, which in turn, has to be washed, along with the floor that collected the drips. The only way I could think to control this, was to not let them drink anything but water, but that didn't go over well, as water still spills!

So my lesson today is to become the kinda girl who does leave things alone, and let the water and juice spill where they may!

There isn't a Blank Wall Anywhere!

It has become quite apparent to me that I am not the kinda girl who likes clutter. I don’t have to look far to realize where my apparent hate of all things knick-knacky came from. My parents, God love them, believe that less is less and more is best. They have been collecting things, paintings, books, Hummels, anything that fills a void space in their house for as long as I can remember. Oh yeah, plants too, they are all over the house, the porch, usually finding a spot on top of the piles of newspapers and gadget magazines that seem inherently drawn to my parent's mailbox.

Here's an early memory that I believe brought about my loathing of things that are called collectibles by some, and junk by others. The day of my wedding (my first, more about the second later), the photographer came to my parents house to do the usual family photos, bridal photos and such. Well, he was shocked that there was not one, not one, blank wall in the entire house, including the bathroom, where we could take pictures.. Seriously, my parents have stuff everywhere, but not to the extreme that I should call the producers of Hoarders. Anyway, as it turned out, my dad would not remove the paintings from the living room wall, so we all had to stand by the picture window. So, in most of the family pictures, there are plants hanging behind one of my brothers' head. Funny stuff.. needless to say, those pictures aren't hung up anywhere in my parent's house, simply because there is no where to put them.

I don’t think I will ever be the kinda girl who likes knick knacks or Hummels, no offense, I like my walls bare, except for a nice picture here or there. When my daughters get married, I don’t want to waste the photographer's time and my money taking down pictures just so we have a blank canvas.

Heidi Klum and the Meaning of Life

There is only one woman alive right now who I think has the right to sit in judgment of the rest of us women .. please do not say Kim Kardashian, or I will have to stop writing forever ..think the antithesis of anything Kardashian, and you should come to Heidi Klum. This woman is amazing in everything she does, she is like the Midas of our time. Watch her on Project Runway, Awesomeness. Look at her with her kids, Goddess. Look at her at Halloween, Genius. She is the kinda girl that I would love to be.

I have seen her on a late night talk show completely at ease with herself, with barely a hint of makeup on. Really? I can't leave my bathroom, let alone my house without lipstick, as you all know. The thought of being in front of millions of people with barely a trace of makeup on and I would be comatose and totally unresponsive, not Heidi. She was cool as a cucumber, laughing, joking and basically at total ease with herself. How does she do it? Is it because she has a husband that can sing, not only in the shower, but also on actual radio and Cd's? Is it because her children are beautiful and probably well behaved and neat? Or is it because she knows something I don't? It is most likely all of the above. I want to know her secret, I want to be the kinda girl who can walk into a room and be amazing. I want to be able to hold three intelligent conversations at one time,talk and people listen. Right now, I talk and maybe the walls are learning something, because those around me, namely my kids, are not.

Teach me, Heidi, I want to learn how you do it. I have never been on a runway except for the time when I was 7 or 8 and vied for the role of Little Miss Barrett playground. I lost of course, and the rest is history. Where would I be if I won? Would my life have changed .. I doubt it highly, but if Ms. Klum could just whisper in my ear, tell me the meaning of life, I think I could become the kinda girl that doesn't have to be in full makeup just to run to the store or pick her daughter up from school. And that would be a start. 

Leaving Things Be .. or Just Let Go!

Life teaches us many lessons, some of those we take to heart, and others we just pretend that we weren't in class that day. One of those lessons is that I am not the kinda girl who can just leave things be, let life take its course. No, not me. I must control everything and most of the time, I have no control over anything. Take, for example, my kids. Try as I might to make them the kinda girls who like to be clean and orderly, they are slobs. I have tried over and over again to make them see the light, that cleanliness is next to Mommy being happy. I bought them bins, I bought them Barbie cases, the more I bought to control the clutter, the more what I bought became part of the clutter. I have just about given up trying to control these two little terrors that become a super force against all that is orderly in my house. Not a morning goes by, that something sticky is spilled on my tablecloth, which in turn, has to be washed, along with the floor that collected the drips. The only way I could think to control this, was to not let them drink anything but water, but that didn't go over well, as water still spills!

So my lesson today is to become the kinda girl who does leave things alone, and let the water and juice spill where they may!

The Art of Dressing

Having learned the hard way, I am not the kinda girl who can get dressed to go out after only trying on one outfit. No, I have to empty my closet of all that is hanging, or folded, and try one combination after another until finally, I am back to the first outfit I chose. And then, I am so sweaty and disheveled, that I have to start the hair and makeup process all over again. I don't understand my penchant for having all of my clothes strewn all over my room when I don't have a personal maid to come and put them away for me. There is no magic fairy that comes when I am out of the house and places all my now wrinkled and most definitely, dog hair laden, discarded clothes away in neat order. Oh no, its my burden to bear, and it usually hits me when I step back into my bedroom after a night out and a few cocktails, and slip on the jeans on the floor, and then in my attempt to stop my downward fall, step on the belt buckle in bare feet.

Why am I not the kinda girl who picks out an outfit and is happy the first time? Is it that the grass is greener on the other side of the hanger, or that black really is slimming and that color is my enemy? No matter how hard I try, I can not seem to get a grip on the first thing is usually the right thing? Maybe in time, but for now, I have to go and pick up last night's pile of newly dirty laundry that I left in my wake getting ready for a night out with my husband.

Ladies and Lipstick

This morning I realized that I am not the kinda girl who leaves the bathroom, let alone the house, without lipstick on. Crazy, I know, but for some deep seated reason, most notably, the fact that my Italian grandmother, Rose, once told me when I was young and impressionable, that even if you have to run out of the house in a fire, you should always take the time to apply lipstick. Well, I added the part about the fire, but she did tell me that even if you don't put on any other make up, you should always have lipstick on, and you will look like a lady. A lady, I want to look like a lady, when I take it as a personal affront (now that I am 50) when someone addresses me as “Lady?” My how the tides have turned!

It's is so funny to me, how after 40 some years, this advice from my grandmother is the only advice I think I ever listened to. It's ironic how I didn't pay attention when she told me that when I get a raise, I should save the extra money for a rainy day (or an extra tube of Revlon lipstick), or how to make the best meatballs ever … no I came away with the wisdom to never go without lipstick, no matter what the situation.

So, I am not the kinda girl who goes out without lipstick, as I am a “lady” after all!

Pearls or Lack of Luster

The first thing I thought of when thinking about this blog, was I am not the kinda girl who wears pearls.  Sounds silly, I know, but I can't even wear a silver chain for more than 24 hours without it breaking or making my neck itch.  I always wanted to be the kinda girl who were pearls because those kinda girls always seem to look like they have it all together, along with their matching twinset and skirt.  Their hair and make up always look perfect, and the luster of the pearls just adds to their aura.  Me, I have no luster, my hair only looks shiny when its greasy or I have used too much of my favorite hair product.  My skin doesn't look dewy or moist, or whatever the buzz makeup word of the day is.  It doesn't have luster.  My clothes, certainly, have no luster, as its hard to create radiance and shimmer dressed in my husband's too big sweatpants and sweatshirt.  The only thing that adds any sparkle to me are my silver hoops, that if I could, I would sleep in.  I somehow feel naked or worse, under dressed, without them.  What is it about those women who can wear pearls with such panache, such grace, that makes me envious?  Is it that pearls exude femininity and charm?  It is that I never went to college and therefore, have no sorority sisters to teach me the correct way to choose and wear pearls? Or that I never dated the handsome quarterback? Wow, it sounds like I am dredging up Animal House images here! Or is it that women who can wear pearls, wear them with such aplomb that you don't even realize that they are wearing them and their glow just seems to come from within?  I don't know the answer, all I know is, I am not the kinda girl who wears, or owns for that matter, Pearls!

Which leads to me another topic that I will take up tomorrow .. lipstick ..

Getting from there to here

In the shower this morning, I was thinking about all the things that I don't have and want, and all the things I do have, and don't want.  Its crazy to think that the Universe is such that I am left with a crap load of stuff that I no longer need or want, and have a bigger crap load of stuff that I do need and do want.  Sounds selfish, and it does go against all the New Age teachings that I have read over the years, but, you know what, I am getting to the point where I just don't care that I am doing things ass backwards according to the "Laws of the Universe."  I am not the kinda girl who doesn't believe in Karma and Fate, it's just that I am tired of waiting for it to work to my advantage.

I wanted to start this blog to find the answer to the question that I am always asking myself, "What kinda girl am I?" 

Am I the kinda girl who looks in the mirror everyday and likes what she sees?  Am I the kinda girl whose clothes fit her perfectly?  Am I the kinda girl who wears silk pajamas?  Am I the kinda girl who is always trying the latest and greatest makeup product in an attempt to better myself, or at least, believe that I am bettering myself?  There are tons of unanswered questions in my life and I am sure that I am not alone in this feeling.  Whether people read this blog or they don't, I hope that by the time I am finished this journey I will have a better understanding of what "kinda girl I am.." and why I am that way.  Join me if you can and let me know your thoughts about the "kinda girl you are or you aren't.  I think we can all learn alot of each other, most importantly, that we are not alone.