When you find yourself under pressure or stress, how do you relax? I don’t know about you, but it seems that I decide to throw some fuel on the fire and make a move. That’s right, another move. This makes about 11 times in 11 years. Give or take a house, a city, or a year.
________________________________
Moving into a new house during an ice storm is even less fun than it sounds. Toss in some discontent, two boys under three and changing careers and you have a recipe. A recipe for what I did not know. You know those nights you come home from work and need to make dinner but find a limited amount of ingredients available? You decide to make due with what you have and just hope something edible comes out of the oven. It’s a crap shoot. It could turn out well and you are asked for more. It could turn out very badly and you end up ordering pizza. As you might imagine, I was ready to call for some delivery at this point.
Asking for a separation was literally the hardest thing I have ever done. I don’t care what you think of me or my decision, but frankly staying would have been easier. This was not a decision I took lightly. Although I had thought about it for a couple of years, I talked myself out of it by using the old adage of “suck it up”, “its not that bad”, “other people have it so much worse than you do”. I thought about how this decision would affect everyone; from my boys to my in-laws. I thought about my friends and how they would have to choose sides and I worried about disappointing my parents. Like most individuals that find themselves getting divorced, I never thought I would do it. As we stand at the alter in front of God and everyone, none of us could fathom we would one day rather be alone than with this person we adore so much.
I admit I should have spoken up sooner. I take that back. I admit I should have spoken louder. I take full responsibility for the surprise on people’s faces when word spread of the dissolution of “the perfect marriage.” If I had only pushed a little harder to be heard. If I had stood up for myself more when I felt strongly enough about something. If I had shared what was going on with friends or family maybe things would have been different. If I had stopped worrying about the perception we had created. If I had stopped worrying about what other’s think. Should of, could of, would of. If ifs and buts were candy and nuts, we would all have a Merry Christmas too…
My father has always had a theory that when you reach the age of 30, you finally figure out what life is all about. He describes it as an awakening of sorts. I imagined myself laying in bed on the morning of my 30th birthday watching the fog of my former self hover over me like an out of body experience. Once the fog dissipates, I am left feeling refreshed and clear-headed, ready to tackle what had once eluded me.
Although Dad may have been a little off on the exact age, he was right about the event itself. My “awakening” didn’t happen overnight, as I once expected though. It seems that I like to take my time with these things, so my growth is a work in progress that has taken me a few years.
In 2005, I was 29 years old and gave birth to my first child. As you might imagine, the next year I was 30. In 2006 I gave birth to my second child. As if giving birth twice in 17 months wasn’t enough, I decided to throw in some more excitement with a move from Florida to Missouri in 2006.
The second born was in a hurry to introduce himself so he decided to arrive a few weeks early. Some four or five weeks early to be exact. The Babe came home with us on schedule but needed to spend a few days in the hospital for a double hernia at 7 weeks of age. At nine weeks of age he was diagnosed with RSV. It seems big brother brought home a cold from daycare that the little man just could not kick. During the ice storm of 2007 we found ourselves without power as we cared for our infant son on an oxygen saturation monitor. As the second born was turning a year old, I then found myself selling a business that once defined who I was.
More change was in order as 2008 began. I was no longer identified by the business I had owned and operated for nearly ten years. I had two boys under the age of three and was struggling with some baby blues that I just couldn’t kick after the second born arrived. I guess something about having a 17 month old, giving birth to a baby in the winter that was in and out of the hospital, moving back to a place where I had no family and selling a business had taken its toll on me.
I’m 32 by this time and I’m starting to wonder if I will ever realize my father’s prediction. What the hell is going on here? Am I destined to continue on the current path? I soon realized it was all part of the process…
I think it is obvious at this point that I have my pet peeves. Rather than dissect my laundry list of issues with others, I will concentrate on just one; eye contact. Worse than a hand shake from a cold, clammy, dead fish; I cannot stand it when people do not look at me when engaged in conversation. I am an eye person anyway. Some woman like full lips, tight butts, strong arms, long hair, etc. The first thing I notice on someone of either sex is their eyes. The infamous “they” have said that the eyes are the window to the soul. I am not sure if that is true, but I believe they can tell a lot about a person.
When I first meet someone I can tell how they feel about themselves by whether or not they look at me when introduced, and for how long. Eye contact tells me they are confident but not necessarily cocky. If they look at me too long I can get a little creeped out. You know what I am talking about; that guy that is still looking at you well after the introduction is over and you are looking at the introducing party. Weirdo.
When I am talking to people I also pay attention to how often they look away. It is one thing to get distracted by someone or something going on the room; especially if in a public place. I too can get distracted by shiny objects.However, if I am having a one on one conversation and the other person looks away often, I start to wonder what they are hiding. I read once that “A person who is looking to his left is accessing the memory; he is trying to recall the facts before relaying them to you. A person who is looking to his right is accessing the creative part of the brain. He is inventing a version of events or story to tell you.”I rarely pay attention to the direction someone is looking, I just get irritated they are not paying attention to the conversation.It’s just a mutual respect thing.
The one part of eye contact that we have no control over is the size of our pupils. In 1975, a study discovered pupils do more than simply react to light. When we are interested in the person we are talking to or the subject we are talking about, our pupils get bigger. When we’re bored, they get smaller. To verify this, next time you’re hanging out with a friend or significant other, talk about something you know he finds interesting, then suddenly change the subject to changes in this year’s tax laws and watch his pupils change. I have tried this with hubs and can verify the validity.What do you think I chose as my subjects?
I think it is obvious at this point that I have my pet peeves. Rather than dissect my laundry list of issues with others, I will concentrate on just one; eye contact. Worse than a hand shake from a cold, clammy, dead fish; I cannot stand it when people do not look at me when engaged in conversation. I am an eye person anyway. Some woman like full lips, tight 
