Identity

I have been doing a lot of meditating, experimenting, and hypothesizing about who I am in the past year. I have been given the blessing to find the tools necessary to get rid of some of my grosser defects. Those I can firmly place in the "who I am not" category. It seems like that has been a commonality for me. I can pretty clearly define for you what things (myself included) are not, but have a harder time defining what they in fact are. So, in the interest of pinning myself down and challenging myself more, I am going to try and do just that.

I am a mother.
This, to me, is a very large part of my identity. If I were to look at a pie chart of what parts make up the whole self, the "mother" slice would be quite satisfying to a large appetite. This is something I have always wanted to be. Even when I went through the aggressively feminist phase of my life, I knew deep down that motherhood on some scale would be included in my life.
I love being a mom. So much so I have made it my profession. Some days I am not any good at it whatsoever. But then again, who can truly say they are on their A game EVERY day in their own jobs? It is important to me to be good at my job. These boys, these future men, are my responsibility. I will have some say in what kind of members of society they will turn out to be. That is huge.

I am a wife.
I love my husband. I can say with 100% certainty that he was the man that I was suppose to marry. We married very young. Children really. We have somehow been able to stay together (by the skin of our teeth a few times) through things that would tear even the most loving relationships apart. He challenges me. He confronts me. He makes me laugh. He loves me. I am better for having him in my life.

I am a friend.
This is one part of me that needs a real overhauling. I don't think that I am a very good friend. I don't say this for sympathy... I say it in honesty. I am not sure if I ever learned how. I forget, a lot, that the women I am friends with are just that, other women. They are people too. They have their strengths and they have their faults. They all do the best they can with what they have at the time. I find myself being catty about them, or setting up unrealistic expectations that I couldn't even follow myself. I make demands, and wish desperately that I could change them. I have come to realize as of very recently though two very important things: 1. You cannot change other people to make you happy. and 2. I probably wouldn't like the person I made them in to anyway! I am hoping by realizing this, and realizing my other numerous defects where friendship is concerned, I will be able to cultivate better relationships with women, and maybe gain a better understanding of who I am in the process.

At this point, I am tempted to start a list of the hobbies and interests that float in and out of my life, but I think that might be best suited for another time. Perhaps I procrastinate because I am really not sure at this point what they are... perhaps because I think it would be boring or unsuitable for this format. Lets say that, for the time being, those interests are limited... with hopes of expansion.

what is a friend?

I have been asking myself this question a lot lately. I am not sure if I am any where closer to finding an answer. I know what a friend isn't, some of the time. I know what a friend can be. I know what friends have been in the past. But to make a definition of what a friend is, seems to be nearly impossible.
It seems that friendships, like anything good in life, are not always easy. They wax and wane like the moon. It seems to me, in my experience that in order to gain a good friendship you have to be good with yourself first. You have to know what you want out of a friendship and what you are willing to give up and put up with. You have to be willing to put the time in to a friendship. If you don't spend time you will never know one another and you will never be comfortable.
However, as I sit here, rereading what I have typed it occurs to me that I may very well be full of shit. Do real friendships feel like work? Does it seem like a laborious task that you add to your to do list? Probably not. Perhaps friendships just.... are.
Like I said, I am no closer to answering this question than I was when I first pondered it.

The Trouble With Tickling

My husband and I have very strange pillow talk. Last night we got in to a discussion about the biological response to tickling, and how it does not match up at all with the psychological reaction. If you are anything like us, you do not like to be tickled. In fact, and I will speak only for myself here, but tickling is one of my least favorite things in the world. I might even say that I would rather be strapped to a waterboard than tickled for any length of time. So, why then is the biological reaction to tickling laughter? Laughter is associated with happiness and joy, yet it is the unintended reaction to the torture of tickling that is impossible to avoid.

Let's look at other responses to physical stimulation. When we are in pain, like say when we are pinched, we grimace or yell, or even vocalize an "ouch." These can all be compared to the growls, whimpers, or snarls from other animals when they are faced with the same physical stimulation. It seems to be the correct reaction to the stimulus. When we are aroused or the like, we let out a pleasurable moan or happy sigh, akin to say a purr. Again, the correct response to the pleasurable stimulus. But tickling?

Who can really say they LIKE to be tickled. If you do, I would really like to share at least a conversation with you. As I mentioned earlier, it is the closest thing to legal torture that I ever care to experience. So, why then do I laugh in seeming pleasure? We submit our children and babies to this torture, thinking that since they are laughing they must be enjoying themselves. Are they? I sure as hell don't. So, as I pontificated the question.... I found this on wikipedia.

Some evidence suggests that laughing associated with tickling is a nervous reaction that can be triggered; indeed, very ticklish people often start laughing before actually being tickled.

Charles Darwin theorized on the link between tickling and social relations, arguing that tickling provokes laughter through the anticipation of pleasure.^[9] If a stranger tickles a child without any preliminaries, catching the child by surprise, the likely result will be not laughter but withdrawal and displeasure. Darwin also noticed that for tickling to be effective, you must not know the precise point of stimulation in advance, and reasoned that this is why you cannot effectively tickle yourself.

So, there you have it folks, the laughter associated with tickling is a NERVOUS reaction. So, the next time you submit your loved one to tickle torture, realize that the giggles and super cute grin you think you are receiving are more like the exposure of the intimidating jaws of a silverback gorilla, or the snarl of a Bengal tiger.

Important Things I Have Learned From My Son (Part One)

I may be a few things, and those things may fluctuate and change according to my interests. But first and foremost, and always and forever, I am a mom. I do not take this title lightly. With a position such as this, I not only get the blessing and honor to teach but surprisingly on a daily basis, I also get the gift of learning. I have learned more from being a mom than all of my classes of higher education and my years of living combined. I would like to take this opportunity to share a few of the bits of knowledge my son has bestowed upon me so far.

1. There is no such thing as too much patience, hugs, kisses, or goldfish crackers.
2. Silly putty does not come off of remote controls, out of hair, out of carpets, or off of furniture.... EVER.
3. "But MAAAHHHMA, little boys are suppose to get dirty!"
4. You will never be able to shame someone in to good behavior. Rewards work better than punishment. Not bribes, rewards. Get me?
5. You will never cease to be amazed when your son learns new things, even if it is something gross like picking his nose, or something WONDERFUL like learning how to read (which my genius four year old son is doing right now) or writing his name for the first time.
6. Always ask what a painting is before you assume it is the pretty little birdie you suspect. Almost always you will be wrong. That pretty birdie is in fact a man eating ice cream cone and how dare I assume otherwise.
7. The favorite stuffed dog, Rufus, is in fact a girl. Duh.
8. Learn to think before you say no. Sometimes the idea seems like a catastrophe at first, but it might just be the funnest thing you have ever done. (Exception being a slip-n-slide at age 27 and overweight.)
9. Pick your battles. Let the little things go. Who cares if he wants to eat his mac and cheese with his fingers. Little boys are washable.
10. Enjoy the ride. The downs can be just as educational and eye opening as the ups are fun.

more to come

Time Well Spent

The number of definitions of what is "time well spent" is directly proportional to the number of people pondering the idea. In other words, if "T" equals what one considers useful spending of time and "P" equals the number of people asking the question, "did I use my time well or usefully?" than T=P. That is my math lesson for today. We will discuss more on a future date. Remember to bring your number two pencils and fresh and clean blue books. Class dismissed.

A life in progress begins its progression...

To start a blog, at least for me, is a frightening adventure. But it is one that I truly wish to, at the very least, explore. I admire those who are so willing to put it out there for the whole world to see. I think maybe, I am just not cut from the same cloth.
I am not sure where this experiment will take me. I am anxious and excited to find out. It is important for me to get out of myself, though perhaps an introspective blog might be the very antithesis of that. I am beginning to see the liquidity of life. How it ebbs and flows and changes so restlessly. Being a creature of routine, and one who takes comfort in absolute sameness, this revelation is shaking me to my very core. Though there is a tiny spark of excitement in the idea.
I am curious to see what comes out as this transpires. I am sure it too will change as I do with the passing days. I am ready to start the journey.