Relationships

In my family,on my mother's side,  almost every single person has been divorced.  My parents, my mother's parents, and my mother's siblings.   Most them remarried successfully...as in they are still married to their second spouse.   When my parents split up, my mother dated for a while and then that stopped.  Years later she told me she stopped dating because every time a man came over I thought he was going to be my new daddy.  How embarrassing for her! I spent most of my childhood with a lonely, depressed mother. Shortly after I married my first husband, my mother got remarried to a man who controls her every movement, and she is enjoying her misery 37 years later.   My mother, being a depressive person, had few friends, and seldom socialized.  She came to life when my soon to be stepfather would come to visit (it was a long distance relationship for many years) and shut down as soon as he left.

My father's mother married a man 40 years her senior, when she was 18 years old.  They stayed married till my grandfather died and my grandmother never remarried.  She had spent most of her life taking care of an elderly husband.  My father was the only child.  He disappeared from my life shortly after he left our home, when I was 10.  There was no warning of his leaving (I was doing dishes at the kitchen sink while he was walking by me carrying his clothes, saying he was going on a a business trip), and no reason for his abandonment of my brother and I.

I am writing all of this to give some background as to why I have been an absolute failure at relationships all of my life.  Not because I am a bad person, I am not any worse than anyone else. Having had virtually no role models for healthy relationships, I choose inappropriate partners for all the wrong reasons.  They say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.  I have determined that when it comes to relationships, for me, insanity is the name of the game.

I have had three husbands (one was common law).   My three children all have the same father.  They have had to endure the loss of three male figures in their lives.  When they were adults, I came out, and I have had three long term girlfriends.   So my children  have endured the coming and going of a LOT of people, as well as having to cope with a pretty fucked up mom. I was a good mother, don't get me wrong. My kids were cared for, and loved. There was a lot of togetherness, and humour, and meaning in their lives.  But my issues are a source of deep shame and guilt for me that has coloured my relationship with my children and still does even though they are adults.

Now I am in another relationship, and it is very much like the others, but there is no abuse this time.  My girlfriend is a sweet and decent person, with enough emotional baggage and issues to warrant years of therapy which she is not getting.

And that's what draws me.  Emotionally unavailable men, and emotionally unstable women.   I want to rescue them, I want to be the person that makes them happy.  To love them when no one else does.  I choose women with no family, or estranged families. I come to the rescue and they are grateful and appreciative. I am kind and compassionate, and loving and selfless.  And then because I don't think anyone can love me if I don't sleep with them, I sleep with them, and then after a few months,  I realize I have made another mistake and I am stuck. The neediness that drew me in, makes me irritable and impatient.  

At least this time I didn't move in with her.  At least this time we have agreed to be friends before we destroy the relationship beyond repair.  I am a MUCH better friend than a partner.  I cannot live well with others.  I feel I have to fix everything, and be responsible for everything and I burn out after a year or so.  And then I stay while I try to salvage something that was doomed to begin with.   And my children pay the price for that.

My daughter doesn't want me to bring around any new women around if I can't guarantee that it is going to be permanent.  I can't do that.  I always intend for it to be permanent, I always have the best intentions, every one of them has been "the one" and it's always "different this time".  They are understandably skeptical.   My daughter has a baby, 16 months old that my current partner loves dearly.  But because we have decided to have a friendship instead of a partnership my daughter has told me she no longer wants my girlfriend around the baby or at family functions because she doesn't want her daughter to go through what they had to go through because of me.  In her words "parading people through our lives that aren't going to stay".  I tried to explain, to no avail, that the chances of my "friend" being in my life long term is much greater than my "partner" being around long term.  I am still in touch with all but two of my exes and we have very civil relationships.  But she is scared, and she is protective of her child, and  unable to let go of the past.

And I don't blame her.  And it hurts me to the core.  And I know it's unfair, and I know it's not my decision because it is her child.  And I know I totally deserve this. And I don't know how to fix it.


 

Singers Gotta Sing

Last night I went to karaoke night at the local LGBT bar.  It's a new place in town and has a really warm welcoming atmosphere.  I hadn't done karaoke in a long time. And I really love it.  It's one of my favourite nights out.  The people there are just out to have some fun and make some music.  Most of the time there is no competition.  It's not about that.

There are many different kinds of karaoke people.

The lonely guy who comes every night and sings, and sits at a table by himself.   I always imagine this guy going on a dating site and telling women he is a singer in a bar.  

The wannabe rock star who gets up there and does all the things they think you need to do to be a rock star, hair tossing, head banging,air guitar, whatever. They are total legends in their own mind.    Sometimes they can sing, often not.

The amazing singer who just hasn't gotten a break yet, or doesn't think they are amazing, or doesn't want to make a career of it.  Those are the ones that make others afraid to go up and sing.  The ones no one wants to follow.  The ones everyone wants to be like.

The tipsy singer who is up there on a dare, spurred on by their equally tipsy fans.  Again sometimes they can sing sometimes not.

The "hobo" singer.  That guy who looks like he just came in off the street.  Ragged, dirty, slightly drunk.  And he brings the house down with his fabulous voice. Shy, nerdy looking people also fit in to this category but are much tidier.

The terrified singer who is going up for the first time.  Trembling voice, shaking, sweating, and then, after the first few bars, the bug bites them and they are totally into it and hooked forever.

The average singer.  This is most of the people who do karaoke, myself included.  I have a good voice, I can hold a tune, and I am good enough to sing solos in my choir.  But not good enough for a career as a singer and I don't want that.  I just like to sing.  Into a mike.  I like the adrenaline rush, I like the way my voice sounds in the mike.  Especially after a couple of drinks...of course that might be a bit of  delusion on my part.

When you first get there, it's pretty tame.  People aren't drunk yet.  The better singers go up then and sing the classics.   But as the night wears on the fun really starts.  That's when you see most of those types of singers.  That's when you might see a drunk guy go up and sing "Tequila" which basically consists of standing there for the whole song, shouting Tequila!  downing the shot and stumbling to their table.  All inhibitions are dropped.  After midnight things get weird, but until then it's great.

If you love watching people, want to have a good time and want to do something really exciting and daring, that doesn't involve heights and harnesses, try karaoke.  I highly recommend it.

Tiny Dancers

Last Saturday I attend the dance recital of my granddaughters, A, aged 7 and S, aged 3.  This was the S's first year and A's second year.  When you attend these things, you don't just watch your own children, you watch ALL of the performances from the very, very young, to the young adults.  It's a long afternoon, but I always thoroughly enjoy myself.  This year S was the 18th dance, and A was the 39.  I had several "ponderings" throughout the recital.

The costumes these children wear are gorgeous, and expensive.  The youngest ones, for the most part, come out on stage, in their little tulle tutus and satiny body suits, tiara's on their heads, some of them with more makeup than most adults wear, and their hair up in severe buns.  And a lot of them just stand there looking shy.   Some of them will attempt a few of the moves (they all love the jumping parts) and none of them are on beat in or sync.  It's adorable!  But I can't help thinking about all that money spent for just that.  I suppose it's practice being on stage, you have to start somewhere.  But why not, for the little ones, just the leotard and body suit?   Some of these kids are in 3 or 4 performances, all with different costumes.   And there were a few families where there were more than 2 children.  It's mind boggling.  The costumes are only used once, they don't get passed down.  

There were two boys in the whole recital.  One boy I had seen last year and he was back this year looking much more mature but just as talented and enthusiastic as before.  I love to see that.  I know it takes a special kind of boy and a special kind of parent to be able to do this.  Boy dancers are not as revered as boy hockey players although I think that should change.  

Many of the girls were heavy.  Not fat, although a couple were skirting the edges.  And I only point this out because when we think of dancers we immediately picture tall and lithe young women pirouetting across the stage lighter than air.  But here I saw all shapes and sizes.  And many of those big girls were far more talented than their skinnier peers.  Some of the heavy girls were in three or four performances as well, tap, jazz and ballet, and they were able to do back flips, cartwheels and other very complicated moves with ease.  There were no elephants on that stage.  It struck me that these girls must have to practice constantly, they must always be exercising, and yet they are still heavy.  And they are learning to accept their bodies, and move them and be creative with them.  So much for media stereotypes of beauty.  I saw real beauty on that stage on Saturday.  

You can tell the kids who are feeling the music, the ones who are there because they want to be, the ones who love to move, from the kids who are there because they are living a parent's dream.  It's not about shyness.  It's not about ability.  It's about the heart and soul of the dance.  And when a child has it, it's a sight to behold.  I saw the magic happen for my own granddaughter, A,  this year. Last year she was not so much in to it, wasn't "hearing" the music, dancing but not really focusing.  This year, it was there.  It had clicked.  I was verklempt!   

Many people have a problem with this type of competition.  Comparing it to Toddlers and Tiara's. Calling it elitist because only the well off can afford the lessons, the shoes and the costumes necessary at a time when bodies are still growing.   But I would rather my child be in something beautiful and creative, and eventually spiritual, than have them bashing themselves on the boards playing hockey.

Advice from people who have never been there.

I once heard someone say "I was a perfect parent, and then I had children".  Exactly.  And that's what has prompted me to write this post.    I went to college and studied Early Childhood Education and I worked in day care for a few years.   When I became pregnant with the my first child, I was convinced it would be a breeze.  After all, I had been looking after 10 children at a time, so how could one be harder?   To say I was wrong is an understatement.  My own child didn't go home at 5 o'clock.  My own child didn't stay home when it was sick.  And I never had to get up in the night when I worked in day care, to soothe a feverish newborn.   And it wasn't just the physical demands, those were manageable and there was an end in sight.   What I really wasn't prepared for was the emotional roller coaster of being a parent.  It touches your heart and your soul, not your intellect.

So I have this to say to my childless friends who say to me," I really resent that women don't think I know what it's like to be a mother, just because I haven't had children of my own."  Well, I am sorry to say ...you don't.  I know you are well meaning, compassionate, sympathetic and sometimes helpful, but you do not know what it is like.  Children have a way of making the most intelligent, educated, dedicated parents turn in to unsure, guilt ridden, anxiety fueled shells of our former selves.   Sure, we all know all about child development, and we've read the books, and the latest theories.  But there is nothing to prepare for you that gut wrenching feeling when your child is crying and you don't know why.   Or when they are having a violent tantrum and you do know why, but you are trying to teach them boundaries.  All that intellectual knowledge flies out the window and your responses are visceral and profound.  And it never ends.  

Ask any parent of an adult child who is struggling in life, or suffering from an inherited illness, if we blame ourselves.  Most of us, especially mothers will say they do.  And we will suffer if our adult child is making life choices that we don't believe in or we feel are wrong or harmful EVEN THOUGH we know it's not our life, and not our problem, and it is their journey. 

So to my childless friends....I know you mean well, and I love you.  But when you hear me talking about my struggles with my children, don't negate or minimize my feelings and then say I know it's hard.  No you don't. 

Oh Give Me A Home

My youngest son just bought his first house.  Now all three of my children are homeowners.  I guess I shouldn't really say children, they are all adults now.  Perhaps offspring is a better word.  Or spawn.  Anyway, I am proud of all of them.  They have worked hard to become homeowners.  It's not easy in this economy when you are young.  However I am glad it's them and not me.

I bought a house once.  It was a nightmare for reasons long enough to write a book, and I may one day.  But for now I will list the reasons I will never again be a homeowner.

1. Roofs that need replacing
2. Windows that need replacing
3. Taxes
4. Interest
5. Furnaces that break down
6.  Hydro bills and water bills that will put you in the poor house
7. Plumbing updates
8. Flooded basements
9. Weekends spent on home and lawn maintenance
10. House sitters.


When I moved in to my first apartment at age 42, I was anxious.   What if I get mugged in the elevator, or the underground parking lot?  What if I have noisy neighbours? What if my clothes get stolen from the laundry room.  But I have lived in 7 apartments in the last 14 years, and I have NEVER been mugged and except for an incident last summer with the guy across the street, I have NEVER had trouble with neighbours or had my laundry stolen.

Here are the reasons I like renting.

1.  Lock the door and go.
2. Everything that goes wrong is the superintendent's problem.
3.  If I want to move, as I frequently do, I just give two months notice.  No waiting for a house to sell, no having to keep my place clean for endless showings.

So what if I am throwing my money away on rent.   Homeowners are throwing money away on interest payments.  By the time they pay off their mortgages they need a new roof or something similarly budget busting.

I am a happy renter.