So here's the thing...
Why do people think that being honest or telling the truth excuses you from accepting responsibility for the aftermath of a few choice words?
Truth is hard to define, unless you are referring to something grounded in fact. Everything else is a judgement call and is more often than not, subject to interpretation. I'm not sure that brutal honesty is worth the aggro to be perfectly honest. I mean, why on earth would you want to set someone off and spend hours, days and possibly weeks having a bad time?
What do you want more? To be right or to be happy?
I've had a number of run ins with my hubby over this. Yes, in a perfect world, people would tell the truth all the time and things would not escalate and people would not get offended or upset. Dare to dream.
I think there are ways to say things to minimise the impact on someone. Everyone has their own way of doing things but is it really necessary to hurt someone you claim to love?
Guys, listen up. If your loins are crying out for some bonding time with the Mrs, you may want to censor your words. Trust me, the ladies would be more inclined to indulge in sexual congress with you if they don't feel fat, ugly, frustrated, pissed off or hard done by. I mean, it's not rocket science.
Sprinkle some praise, tell them they're hot, tell them they cooked the BEST meal ever, tell they they are doing a great job and your dreams may just come true.
Women are complex and insane (made even worse by hormonal imbalances) but let me tell you, there is NOTHING we wouldn't do for our sweetheart who makes us feel like the most amazing person that walks the earth. You may even find yourself on the receiving end of that thing you only get every now and then... You know, the thing you only get on special occasions.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Monday, August 30, 2010
Blink and you miss it.
Where did my weekend go?
As I sat and surveryed my home, it looked a like a bomb had hit it. I mean seriously, I don't really quite understand why I bother. The kids had basically trashed the place the minute we finished cleaning up.
We had a revolving door of visitors which the kids just love. It was a fun weekend, I have to admit. But by last night, there was not one clean coffee mug and quite frankly the thought of washing up made me want to curl up in the foetal position and weep.
I work full time, in a fairly demanding job. My clientele is difficult at best and you don't even want to know what they are like at the their worst. Sometimes after a long day, I just want to sit on my arse and vege out, the way I used to before the kids came. They were simpler times. Cereal was an option for dinner and all I had in my fridge back then was Diet Coke and some butter.
Nowadays, my idea of a perfect weekend is Funniest Home Videos, some takeaway and then bed. Sundays are spent folding 8-10 loads of washing which is just freakin awesome... NOT. It does allow me to catch up on movies although I do feel like I'm drowning in bonds undies and singlets most Sundays.
And today the cycle starts again. A new week, more dirty clothes to wash, more meals to cook, more fights to be had, more mess to clean up.
Ahhhhh the joys. Life is good.
As I sat and surveryed my home, it looked a like a bomb had hit it. I mean seriously, I don't really quite understand why I bother. The kids had basically trashed the place the minute we finished cleaning up.
We had a revolving door of visitors which the kids just love. It was a fun weekend, I have to admit. But by last night, there was not one clean coffee mug and quite frankly the thought of washing up made me want to curl up in the foetal position and weep.
I work full time, in a fairly demanding job. My clientele is difficult at best and you don't even want to know what they are like at the their worst. Sometimes after a long day, I just want to sit on my arse and vege out, the way I used to before the kids came. They were simpler times. Cereal was an option for dinner and all I had in my fridge back then was Diet Coke and some butter.
Nowadays, my idea of a perfect weekend is Funniest Home Videos, some takeaway and then bed. Sundays are spent folding 8-10 loads of washing which is just freakin awesome... NOT. It does allow me to catch up on movies although I do feel like I'm drowning in bonds undies and singlets most Sundays.
And today the cycle starts again. A new week, more dirty clothes to wash, more meals to cook, more fights to be had, more mess to clean up.
Ahhhhh the joys. Life is good.
Friday, August 27, 2010
About me
So here's some info about me.
I'm married (hence the Mrs) with 2 gorgeous children who will no doubt give me many sleepless nights in the years to come. I work full time, and for some unknown reason I decided at the start of 2010 that it would be 'fun' to go back to uni.
I have a LOT of balls in the air and sometimes, I gotta tell you, it's an absolute nightmare. I believe (and feel free to disagree) that we are our own worst enemy. No one crucifies us more than we do ourselves. The guilt that we carry inside... Am I being the best mother?? Am I being a good wife?? Is my house clean enough?? Does my boss think I'm working hard enough? Well, I tell you... I fail on all counts on a daily basis.
I think a lot of us feel the need to live up to some pre-concieved benchmark that some unknow person or persons put in place. You know what I mean... The 'them' or 'they' we always refer to when passing on sound knowledge to someone who has no clue about what's to come.
I had my kids later on in life. So I'm on the back foot from the get go because I'm old, tired and cranky. I mean seriously. I should put that on my business card. I had no idea what to expect when my first bundle of joy came into the world, but I tell you, it shocked and scared the hell out of me. By the time the second one came to us (and it happened very fast!) I was pretty much headed on a path to self destruction and was diagnosed with post natal depression which of course I refused to accept because hello? I could do anything I set my mind to.
Anyway, a number of years down the track things are much better. But I make a point of being brutally honest about my early years as a mother and the fact that very few of us have that Cosmo Baby mother type of initiation into motherhood.
My kids are healthy and happy, most of the time. The hubby and I are doing great. There have been some dramas but we work at it. He works at it more than I do because I favour the silent treatment method and he loves to talk and talk and talk.
And then there's my work life and my uni life. But we can talk about that another time.
I'm married (hence the Mrs) with 2 gorgeous children who will no doubt give me many sleepless nights in the years to come. I work full time, and for some unknown reason I decided at the start of 2010 that it would be 'fun' to go back to uni.
I have a LOT of balls in the air and sometimes, I gotta tell you, it's an absolute nightmare. I believe (and feel free to disagree) that we are our own worst enemy. No one crucifies us more than we do ourselves. The guilt that we carry inside... Am I being the best mother?? Am I being a good wife?? Is my house clean enough?? Does my boss think I'm working hard enough? Well, I tell you... I fail on all counts on a daily basis.
I think a lot of us feel the need to live up to some pre-concieved benchmark that some unknow person or persons put in place. You know what I mean... The 'them' or 'they' we always refer to when passing on sound knowledge to someone who has no clue about what's to come.
I had my kids later on in life. So I'm on the back foot from the get go because I'm old, tired and cranky. I mean seriously. I should put that on my business card. I had no idea what to expect when my first bundle of joy came into the world, but I tell you, it shocked and scared the hell out of me. By the time the second one came to us (and it happened very fast!) I was pretty much headed on a path to self destruction and was diagnosed with post natal depression which of course I refused to accept because hello? I could do anything I set my mind to.
Anyway, a number of years down the track things are much better. But I make a point of being brutally honest about my early years as a mother and the fact that very few of us have that Cosmo Baby mother type of initiation into motherhood.
My kids are healthy and happy, most of the time. The hubby and I are doing great. There have been some dramas but we work at it. He works at it more than I do because I favour the silent treatment method and he loves to talk and talk and talk.
And then there's my work life and my uni life. But we can talk about that another time.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
I'm here. Now what?
A friend suggested I start a blog. I have no idea why. I love to write. That doesn't mean that anyone will care about anything I have to say... or maybe they will.
Friends are funny, hard work, brilliant and sometimes so fucking annoying you just want to slap them.
I'm big believer in quality friends instead of quantity friends. Connections fascinate me. I mean, everyone knows someone they think is a complete dick. But somewhere out there, there is a person who thinks they rock. Well, that's the dream anyway.
Just recently, I hosted a get together for a group of friends who had not been under the same roof in well over six years. I love that we can pick up where we left off and not care that years have passed and life has gone on. Some of us are parents and the others are still living the dream. Months and years can pass and I know that these people will be there forever.
And then there are the life-longers. The few who have seen it all unfold. The ones you went camping with over summer. The ones who suffered with you during the high school years. The ones who helped wipe your tears over broken hearts and who held your hair back when you spewed the ouzo you stupidly skulled.
And then there are the friends that God blesses us with. A child who tells everyone you're their bestest friend. Hopefully that won't change as the years go by. I won't hold my breath though. Some things are inevitable.
Friends are funny, hard work, brilliant and sometimes so fucking annoying you just want to slap them.
I'm big believer in quality friends instead of quantity friends. Connections fascinate me. I mean, everyone knows someone they think is a complete dick. But somewhere out there, there is a person who thinks they rock. Well, that's the dream anyway.
Just recently, I hosted a get together for a group of friends who had not been under the same roof in well over six years. I love that we can pick up where we left off and not care that years have passed and life has gone on. Some of us are parents and the others are still living the dream. Months and years can pass and I know that these people will be there forever.
And then there are the life-longers. The few who have seen it all unfold. The ones you went camping with over summer. The ones who suffered with you during the high school years. The ones who helped wipe your tears over broken hearts and who held your hair back when you spewed the ouzo you stupidly skulled.
And then there are the friends that God blesses us with. A child who tells everyone you're their bestest friend. Hopefully that won't change as the years go by. I won't hold my breath though. Some things are inevitable.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)