15

Last night I told my son that my husband and my 15th wedding anniversary was the next day. He said he was sorry he didn’t get us a gift. I said he (and his sister!) were the gift.

Anyway, here are 15 things I’ve learned about marriage in 15 years:

*Sometimes no anniversary gift (besides the kids and that California Adventure Food and Wine Festival trip last month) is the best gift of all. Or just him uploading all your wedding pics off the disk.

*If she’s a good one, she’ll get the Spidey tingle and remind you to call your mom.

*If he’s a good one, he’ll cook for your family.

*A healthy relationship helps you grow separately as well as together.

*Marrying your best friend is good only if you get the spark when you kiss.

*Speaking of kissing, you should kiss in the kitchen. Preferably in front of your kids while they complain.

*Save your money for a housecleaner and a gardener. You just might be saving your marriage.

*The top layer of your wedding cake tastes just as good a year later if you freeze it well in foil.

*Learn their love language and speak to them in it.

*Dated pop culture references make excellent inside jokes in a relationship.

*Try not to exploit their weaknesses, as tempting as it is.

*If you’re getting pissed at each other a lot, it’s probably time for some hanky panky.

*Putting both kids to bed yourself once in awhile goes a long way towards making your partner happy.

*Know what their favorite treats are and surprise them with those treats.

*He’s a homebody. Let him rest. She’s a bird. Let her fly. She’ll always come back, because home is the beautiful nest they’ve made together.

The Biggest Loser

That’s been us lately except instead of losing weight we have just been losing.

Small losses. Nothing terrible. At the art contest, in volleyball, and when I busted my butt with my colleagues to throw an awesome city birthday celebration and we weren’t selected for an award. When I gambled and lost a few dollars at the Vegas airport. When my daughter and I showed up at her doctor’s appointment and they said they would have to reschedule us.

It’s easy to let the little losses pile up in your brain like a mound of sticky goo that seals you to the floor and keeps you from moving.

Then I remind myself that you have to try in order to have the privilege of losing. That itself is a victory. And winning wouldn’t taste as sweet if it happened all the time and without toiling to get there.

So we will keep trying and maybe losing. For that, we are the biggest winner.

Pandemics and cauldrons

My daughter and I were looking through her yearbook tonight from the 2020-21 school year when she was in kindergarten.

I asked her what she remembered from the pandemic, and she recalled the time her kindergarten teacher sent home bags of special Halloween crafts and activities to her class. They made a smoking cauldron experiment together over Zoom while wearing Halloween costumes.

I just love how beautifully resilient kids are. And of course, I just love teachers.

Taking flight

I am traveling alone for work, and went to open my water bottle to take a swig mid-flight.

The pressure being released caused the water to squirt violently all over my face and chest in a full fountain. “Ohhhh!” I yelled in surprise.💦

It would be adult-film worthy if it wasn’t at all.

This, after I had to ask the woman in the aisle seat to stand up so I could go to the bathroom during the 45-minute flight cuz this is my bladder in my 40s having given birth to two kids, having had a cup of coffee and on my period.

The earring

Tonight after dance class, my daughter casually mentioned an earring back was stuck in her ear.

When I at last convinced her to let me take a look, it was confirmed a little clear plastic earring back was indeed buried all the way inside her earring hole.

I sterilized my best real sapphire earrings, and grabbed some Bactine and an ice pack. My mom instincts would guide us through this, I thought.

It was a mantra I continued to chant as I sat icing her ear with her head on my lap. When the moment of truth came and my daughter’s ear was fairly numb, I pushed gently on the ear hole and she screeched.

“Let me try!” she said, running into the hall bathroom.

After a couple of minutes, I heard a high-pitched scream. As I prepared to get up and check on her, she emerged from the bathroom, victorious. “I got it! I pushed it right out the front!” she said, holding the clear soft earring back.

Together, we put my nicest sapphire earrings in her ears.

You know what’s even better than mom instincts guiding us through? When our children’s own instincts take over and our mom instincts can sit back and smile with pride.

Nashville

I traveled alone to this Mom 2.0 conference in Nashville. It’s for mom bloggers and content creators, and it’s my third and probably last year coming.

There’s a boss babe vibe in the air, and a call to leave your lame day job and create content full time.

Most of the sessions no longer feel very relevant to me. I like my day job, and am most likely not going to make a fortune with my side hustle.

One of the presenters was this former CNN reporter who dropped everything to start her own tech company.

She talked about that lobster story where you have to shed your shell completely to become who you want to be.

I ditched many of the sessions to explore.

The amazing thing is, I have become so comfortable in my shell that I can seek shelter in it when I’m alone and forcing myself to meet new people in a strange place. Or asking people I don’t know to take my photos here and over there. While singing and clapping along during my first Earth-shattering time at the Grand Ole Opry with hardly any charge on my cell and a need to summon an Uber back. On a tour of the Country Music Hall of Fame Museum and the Frist Art Museum. While introducing myself to major mom content creators and having another creator tear up when she recognized who I was from what I’d made in the Internet space. While eating alone, and with others.

I want to continue to evolve, but I am also who I want to be. No shell-shedding necessary.

Just a little courage and a little boot-scooting.

Until next time, Nashville! You are lovely.

Working mom

I’m not a stay-at-home mom or even a work-at-home mom. There’s nothing wrong with being either, or course.

And I realize that the title of SAHM is misleading, because many don’t stay home anyway. They are running here and there with the kids, maybe able to attend daytime dance classes and afternoon soccer practices.

I am a working mom, through and through.

Today I was able to pop by an event my daughter’s spring break camp was attending. I took some video of the event as part of my job, and gave my baby a quick kiss on the head and hello. I watched her walk giggling with her friends back to the camp van. There were no tears. No clinging to my leg.

That was plenty for her, because my daughter is not a stay-at-home daughter. Never has been.

Swimsuits

Have you shopped for girl bathing suits lately?

I do not consider myself a prude, like at all.

But we were looking for a couple of one-piece suits my daughter could wear to summer camp, and this was about the most coverage I could find at Target.

Cut-out suits and two-pieces are all over the place, and in tiny sizes. We’re talking miniature versions of sexy adult swimsuits.

No more Victoria’s Secret runway show because our daughters are gonna parade around in those styles by the pool instead, right?

Body confidence should not mean no coverage available.

I’ll be over here looking for the missing pieces of these suits and our societal sensibility.

Middle Age Mom: The store

They sell us youth in a bottle at the beauty supply stores.

But how can you bottle up inexperience and finding your footing? Does the self-consciousness mix with the immature decision-making when you shake the container?

The youth serum should have a lovely pearl sheen but with chunks of worrying what others think. Globs of “if I was better, he would like me back”. Would the self-absorbency sink into your skin or just coat the surface?

Of course, they make a lot of awesome youth creams. Full of motivation and drive and compassion. A youthful desire to change the world. But that’s not for me. Those are for the youngsters.

Hand me a bottle of that Getting Wrinkles, please. Or maybe the Gray Hair is Hot spray.

I’ll even settle for the More Aches, Less Shits Given.

I heard that new perfume Empathy has notes of caring and sharing, but also learning to let go and just breathe and sit together and be.

I want to try on that Speaking with Authority setting spray. And some Call me Ma’am powder.

Know Your Worth eye shadow got great reviews.

Take my money, Middle Age Woman. I’m kicking in your doors and clearing the shelves.

Sketch artist

If any of you ever go missing, and I SEE you kidnapped, please understand you are still royally effed.

My husband and I have been watching the MTV classic Catfish again lately, and on this one episode they brought in a sketch artist to draw a dude a woman saw briefly a couple of times. When they finally found the guy, he looked EXACTLY like the sketch. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

I don’t know what I had for breakfast, and hardly know my name half the time.

I am sure as hell not going to be able to describe the shape of someone’s eyebrows.

Call the FBI and add you to the missing person list. Because this ain’t happening.