Crazed by Calliope: January 2016

I Like Water

Who writes this shit?

To quote Justin Booth, who must be a really rocking individual for the comment he left on this prize: "Who makes these?! Of course you wanna get married once. Is there one that says I want to get married three times and have plenty of cheating and divorce? This is like a meme that says "I like drinking water"."

This annoys me almost as much as the memes out there that say how marriage is hard work and love isn't easy and if you just believe in happy dancing unicorns you too can make ANY damn situation work. Let's suggest that divorcees didn't try hard enough or bleed themselves dry trying to make it work.

Nooooooo shit, people want things to work.

See, here's the thing. This kind of sentiment has always annoyed me, but of course it's doing more so right now because I'm divorcing. I get so tired of the obvious statements and assumptions. Tired of people that insist anything can work. Important word that, can. Doesn't mean it should. And yes relationships are hard work. Let's say it again together in chorus: No Shit!

It's time to get rid of this mentality that we should stick it out when two people are miserable! Not every relationship is redeemable. A culture that makes people feel guilty for doing what is best for their own emotional/physical/mental health and stability needs to stop perpetuating that guilt! Consider having some empathy. Maybe your marriage is great. Maybe it wasn't always great, but you managed to make it work. That doesn't mean everyone else will or should manage the same.

Everyone wants Happily Ever After, or at least the happy part. Sometimes life has other plans.

#grumpybritches <-- that's probably not a thing, but totes should be.

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Give Me a Beast

I love Beauty and the Beast for a great many things. A classic fairytale where the femme lead isn't being rescued, hot damn! Not that I'm oh so against the old tried and true. I simply like variety and the acknowledgement that a woman not only doesn't always need rescuing, but can save a man. And let's be honest, that's what Belle does. She saves the beast from himself. From self loathing, anger, solitude.

I also identify a great deal with Belle. I adore and share her love of reading. I admire her kindness and ability to stand her ground. I like to think I'm getting there on the latter.

Despite all my love for this story and it's many forms, one aspect always sat wrong with me.

I don't want a prince.

I mean, how could it not be disconcerting? You fall in love with someone for who and what they are. And then they change quite dramatically. We all know how easy change is. I wouldn't want to be rewarded with a handsome stranger.

I've heard the points against my little ramble. Such as: well his true self was the prince. Was it? It had supposedly been ages and the curse was to bring out the beast he behaved as, in a way more himself than he was before. Alright maybe some merit there in reclaiming the man, but after living as the beast and being accepted for it which would be the more accurate self? An entirely different argument.

I may just have too large a soft spot for beasts. I find them much more lovable and comforting than princes. A beast doesn't win you over with his face. He has no charm to rely on. He's rough around the edges, but there's often a lot more beneath the feisty exterior. To quote a movie my son is watching entirely too often lately, "His isolation is confirmation of his desperation for healing hugs!" He might roar and growl and carry on, but far more often than you realize it'll be because he doesn't know how else to show his concern. More women really should give them a chance.

In the meantime, look up a book by Robin McKinley called Rose Daughter. Possibly my favorite version of the tale.

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Let's Parent Like Piccard

Mr. Kessler, ashamedly I did not know who you were prior to this post I stumbled upon in the swirling information hole of Facebook (seriously people go look him up, he's amazing). Anyone that can bring attention to something I consider vital as a parent in a way that makes people take notice deserves a few nods. Humor can be one of the best languages! And this got me on my own train of things I would say to my little Ambassador:

Señor Ambassador, the Febreeze is for the freshening of the air, not your genitals.

Señor Ambassador, we do not absorb nutrition through our nostrils here.

Señor Ambassador, our culture prefers the use of words as opposed to guttural noises and thrashing.

Señor Ambassador, in our society we differentiate between want and need.

Señor Ambassador, dogs and horses are a seperate species on our planet.

I could go on for days. Which really only makes this resonate all the more. That's why it is golden. We need more people to make us stop and think. Children are not idiots, and more importantly infants are not.

Some of the things my two year old is capable of baffle those I speak with. His language skills, my expectations for him, the small chores he's already capable of. What did I do to achieve this. Very little in my book. I let him. I let him and assumed that if he was ready to try and it did no bodily harm, why not? And maybe this is a good point to mention that yes every child is different. This is in no way me saying you should pressure a child or a return to the overdone: look my offspring is so much more advanced than yours, neener neener!

The fact is that children are little sponges, always watching and listening and they accept the limits they hear us place. I'd love to put an end to: oh you can't expect an (insert age here) to be able to do (insert whatever the Hell here). Of course I would also like to see better balance between imparting how to think and what to think.

So thank you Mr. Kessler. Here's to doing the best we can for our wee Ambassadors. I sincerely wish this picture was an actual literary work, I would read the Hell out of it...

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Cartoon Charisma

You know you've been watching copious amounts of children's television when you can name every one of the trains on Thomas and you know more theme songs than anything off the Top 40. It can easily be argued that it's better than sinking into the show hole of daytime television. But still, you might be slipping when you start thinking things like "that Victor train is kind of distinguished, rawr." (It's totally the Spaniard bit.)

I'm not going to lie. Nine times out of ten when choosing what to watch on my own time I wind up with an animation. They're usually happy, I like to laugh and something about less people suffering and hating their lives just does it for me.

However, prolonged exposure to my son's entertainment choices has lead me to some terribly deep quandries. Such as...How does it rain underwater? Looking at you Bubble Guppies. Why is Mr. Crabs selling Krabby patties, is he a closet cannibal? How is it every member of Caillou's family has a different hair color and he is bald? Can Curious George really be a monkey without a tail? Do you think Gadget got freaky with Chip and Dale, or maybe she went for the accent on Monterrey? Pokemon is still on, damn when is Ash gonna catch em' all?

And the most recent, and perhaps one of most drastic importance. Which cartoon single dad is the most appealing to a single mother?

After really mulling it over. I mean agonizing hours of thought here people, I decided it had to be Dave Seville. Sorry Ted you were a close runner up, but the quirky love of yellow would wear thin and George is probably waiting to star in the next Outbreak.

Dave has it going on ladies. Gainfully employed, great father. You know the man must have the patience of a saint, and look at that hair!

Maybe I need to start watching things with real people again...

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Meness

Where to begin. 2016, you snuck up on me and you bring a lot to talk about. But before we begin on what’s new, it seems more fitting to look back on our old friend 2015. It was, quite the year. I’m not sure if I should call it good, or bad, or simply say that it was.

At some point as we crept toward the beginning of 2015 I realized that I had lost myself. My “meness” as it were. It’s hard to pinpoint when it happened, and it’s very likely that it didn’t all at once, not really. It was slowly eroded and chipped away. All the easier to go unoticed.

I am well aware of some of the reasons why. And I know I’ve ever promised to be truthful and open here, but there are some things...some things my dears, that even I think should be left burried. I don’t want to hurt anymore. I don’t want to dredge up, or blame. What matters is simply that it happened and that I realized “me” was worth fighting for.

And it was a fight. Every step of the way, every little bit reclaimed and put back together. Something I find interesting is that...it’s not exactly the same as it was before. The broken pieces reassembled resemble the same thing, but their shape is slightly different. I am me, and I am more. I had to make room for pieces I didn’t know were missing, and the glue itself that helped me hold together has made a difference…

There is so much in that glue.

Family, friends, love and support that I never thought to open up to or trust before. Silly girl thought she could hold herself ...and everyone around her, all together on her own.

I learned crazy concepts this past year as well. Like the astounding fact that I deserve to be happy. That other people’s happiness is much less my responsibility than formerly believed. And that I deserve to be loved for that “meness” as aforementioned.

But mostly, it all comes back to the glue. To those that know who you are, thank you. To those that may not, I pray I get the chance to show you.

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