March 12th, 2012

Choose Wisely

My dad used to be a divorce lawyer and he would always say this to me:

“Love is grand, divorce is one hundred grand. Choose wisely.”

Choosing a mate is not the same as choosing a friend. Different needs can be spread out onto different friends. If you read my last entry “The Friend Philosophy,” you know I don’t believe in expecting one friend to fulfull all of my needs. I also don’t believe in holding my husband responsible for fulfilling all of my needs, but he needs to fill a crap-load of them because the last time I checked, he’s the only one I’m allowed to have.

So, if your partner, your spouse, is supposed to be your best, best, best friend…the bar should be really high when you’re giving out the final rose, right? Right. If the bar is high and you don’t settle, your chances of landing the ”right” person are better and your chances of staying together are too.

But how do we know who that “right” person is?

We know by dating a whole bunch of the wrong ones. Keep reading this post »

March 2nd, 2012

“The Friend Philosophy”

Raise your hand if you remember that Chris Brown beat the CRAP out of Rihanna back in 2009.

Me too!

But I think The Grammy’s forgot.

I was kind of shocked to see Chris Brown on stage at the 54th Annual Grammy Awards singing and dancing like he wasn’t the guy who shoved Rihanna’s head into the passenger window of a car before using her face as a punching bag.

LOSER. Keep reading this post »

January 24th, 2012

Give It Up, Sports Freak

Dear Husband,

I had lunch with my mom today and I mentioned that you gave up part of a football game last night to watch a movie with me. The girls were asleep and we don’t get to hang out as much as we used to at night, but I was still kind of surprised because it was a big game.  (The winning team will be playing in the Super Bowl). Even I considered watching the game instead of watching George Clooney (but only for a few seconds because then I remembered that it’s George Clooney). Keep reading this post »

January 15th, 2012

Stand Up

If you look in your backyard, you’ll probably see big, thick wires that are horizontally connected to poles. I have no idea what they are called; I think they‘re called “electrical wires.” Anyway, some years ago I was delivering food for Meals On Wheels in downtown Detroit with a bunch of my friends and we were assigned to some very sketchy neighborhoods. There is one house in particular that sticks out in my mind. I remember that I could plainly see a pit bull in the back yard, running back and forth…on a tether…that was tied to an electrical wire.

AN ELECTRICAL WIRE.

So I called 911. Keep reading this post »

November 21st, 2011

Night Moves

My husband and I have a 4-1/2 year-old daughter who was adopted from China when she was 11 months old.  We call her “Sweet Pea.” Most children adopted from China have experienced the loss of their birthmothers and suffered from physical abandonment, multiple caretakers and varying degrees of deprivation and/or neglect. Before the adoption was finalized, we did our due diligence. Our research included a great deal of information on “attachment.”

As you may know, a  securely attached person is someone who is confident with a strong sense of self worth. They’re empathetic beings with the ability to engage in healthy relationships. Conversely, the most unattached people are people without empathy, a conscience and/or people who are unable to relate to others except as objects who exist to meet their needs. In other words, they are violent  psychopaths.

Uh, no thanks.

I don’t need some violent psychopath for a kid. I got enough problems. Keep reading this post »

October 23rd, 2011

Dissecting The Mean Girl

It’s very rare for someone to tell you to your face how they truly feel about you. It’s rare because it’s not an easy thing to do. Somebody once told me to my face that I’m “mean.” I was rather stunned because  usually those kinds of things are reserved for behind-the-back lashing and also, I didn’t agree with her. Keep reading this post »

October 8th, 2011

The Real Good Days

I walked into a conversation not too long ago and one of the women was saying that the day she gave birth was the best day of her life. Well, it wasn’t for me. It sucked. I was in labor for 16 hours and the pain was unbearable. I have a pretty high tolerance for pain but at one point, I seriously thought I was going to die, and then I just wished I would. I kept asking, begging, yelling for an epidural but every nurse who came into my room told me that I’d have to wait until I was dialated to 4 cm. Screw you and your 4cm. Find a way to get me there. They did, but it took 8 hours. Eight hours of HELL.

The best day of my life? I don’t think so. Keep reading this post »

September 29th, 2011

For My Girls

When I was little, I used to love to go to my dad’s office. He would give me paper and put me in the conference room with a phone, some pens and a stapler so I could “work.” As I got older my trips became less frequent, but there is one visit that I will never forget. Keep reading this post »

September 23rd, 2011

Neutrogena, Be Gone!

I grew up in a colonial style home. It had stairs. It never failed that as soon as I was out-the-door, ready to go, I would remember that I forgot something—something that was, of course, upstairs. And then when I would get home, there always seemed to be piles of clothes and other stuff lining the first two to three stairs that needed to be brought up. The piles usually belonged to me. I hated those stairs. I promised myself that when I became an adult, I’d get a house with no stairs. And that is exactly what I did.

Problem solved. Keep reading this post »

September 18th, 2011

Cutting Cursive

My little one and I were at my friend “Caren’s” house the other day. While our kids were busy playing with matches, Caren and I were stuffing our faces with cookies and chatting. I told Caren, in between bites, that I’m a bit concerned about what’s going to happen when I no longer know the answers for the questions my kids ask.

When my 4-year-old asked what “blind” meant the other night, I was very happy and proud of myself  because I knew the answer. I’ve been pretty lucky so far. I have known just about everything she has asked, but she is only four. My days are numbered. Keep reading this post »