A promise to keep

 Sometimes a song says it all...

Brandi Carlile's
Listen here
"A Promise To Keep"

I still talk to you in my sleep
I don't say much cause the hurt runs too deep
I gave you the moon and the stars to keep
but you gave them back to me

The hill I'm walkin up is gettin good and steep
but I'm still looking for a promise even I can't keep

I still lay on my side of the bed
I dance alone when the last bottle's spent
memories like a river runnin through my head
I'll have me an ocean before I'm dead

The hill I'm walkin up is gettin good and steep
but I'm still looking for a promise even I can't keep

I still whisper sweet words to you
and when I'm busy, or have nothing to do
I pray to god, that my words ring true
and that your words might reach me too

The hill I'm walkin up is gettin good and steep
but I'm still looking for a promise even I can't keep
I can't keep it...

My hearts in pieces so please understand
I've tried to jump, but I've nowhere to land
so give me your heart and I'll give you my hand
and I'll try as goddamn hard as I can

The hill I'm walkin up is gettin good and steep
but I'm still looking for a promise even I can't keep

I can't promise you anything

This is a phrase that the Philosopher  and her girlfriends have heard a number of times during their dating experiences.  As you may have guessed, it is a phrase that men seem to use on a regular basis.  The women may use it but it is so rare that when we utter those words we are often in shock that they even came out of our mouths!

But what does it mean?  Why do men feel compelled to say it?  Does it absolve them from taking responsibilty for any heartache or pain that may come down the line in the relationship?  Do they feel it removes our right to be upset with them because we should remember that he "didn't promise you anything"?  Does it allow them to walk away without any guilt or remorse because they "didn't promise anything"?

I find it funny and immediately telling when those words are uttered because I can't remember a time when I said to a man "well I will only go out with you on this date if you promise that you will love me forever and take care of me and my children and give me great orgasms daily and worship and adore me till you die." 

So, exactly, what promises are they prematurely red-lining when they make that statement?

The only things I want promised are that he will show up as he said he would, be interesting to talk to and make me laugh.  Any relationship that we are supposed to have will naturally progress from there.  And the relationship is going to last as long as it is supposed to, promises or not. 

People have a tendency to eliminate themselves from relationship consideration all by their lonesomes.  Putting out the disclaimer that they can't promise anything doesn't absolve them from those behaviors that eliminate them. 

It seems a cowardly statement to the Philosopher.  It's like auditing a class in college.  A person may want to learn about this subject but he doesn't want to be tested on it for a grade or do any of the work the professor requires to pass the class.  And we all know that relationships have inherent tests and require a lot of work.  So when a man says he can't promise me anything, I know he has no intention of doing the necessary hard work and simply wants the 'benefits'. 

So he's right, he can't promise me anything and in return he gets nothing.

Next.

Tummy Tuck update!

For those of you who thought you would be kind and purchase the tummy tuck belt I referenced in yesterday's blog post, (perhaps for my birthday that's coming up?) it is not necessary to do so.  A girlfriend of mine's mother bought it for her and she says it is absolutely a waste of time and money (which I thought truly when I watched the infomercial).

So instead if you still wish to get me something that is appreciated, useful and definitely not a waste of time or money, I always appreciate a bottle of Paloma Picasso.  (ordered conveniently at www.fragrancenet.com)

I will simply keep to my original plan of having a TRUE tummy tuck when I get my inheritance from my grandmother.  Until then though, I will smell really nice.

The Silent Treatment

The Philosopher is persona non grata. 

It seems that Ladybug is intent on not talking to me as punishment for refusing to take out a $100K parent loan or refusing to co-sign a loan for a similar amount in "alternative financing" to fund her undergraduate education at her dream school in her dream city, Chicago.

I'm not sure if she thinks that by not talking to me I'll magically change my mind and agree to mortgage my life or allow her to begin hers saddled with that extreme amount of debt?  That I'll feel so guilty and miss having her talk to me and resent her active ignoring of me, that I'll cave and say "whatever you want Ladybug, just talk to me please."?  *Sigh*, my newly 'adult' child has a lot of growing up to do.

She is suffering from short-sightedness.  She is actually acutely afflicted with it.  I may have to step in with a drastic intervention if she doesn't alter her attitude around the house.  If I am persona non grata, then there is no reason for me to continue allowing her to drive the minivan or pay for the insurance or the gas or her telephone or her food or her home.  Because if I'm not there, then she is not there.  I am willing to wait another day or so before pulling the plug on her 'fun and beginning the shock treatment, so to speak. 

She is experiencing what all young women experience as they mature and get ready to head off to college, that no matter what you try to do, you can't be the queen at home.  That is the mother's divine right.  I went through it myself.  Pushing and pulling, tugging and tearing at the 'restrictive' nature of life at home.  Oh it was just awful!  Or so I thought.  Once I went away to college and began living my life on my own, I settled down and didn't necessarily push those boundaries when I was home on visits.  My Ladybug is at that pushing/pulling stage because she is experiencing another one of life's mean little lessons - you can't always get what you want. 

Oh the joy! 

Milestones, milemarkers... no it's just life!

This was an interesting weekend at the Philosopher's home.

Milestones were crossed as my eldest, my Ladybug, turned eighteen and I became officially a parent of an adult child.  She also performed in her final highschool play.  I got a little teary-eyed when she came out for her final curtain call, realizing that any other plays I may see her in will require travel and overnight stays.  Even my youngest said this morning that he is going to miss watching her perform.  He does adore his big sister.

Her birthday celebration was low-key though - just dinner with the four of us last night at a neighborhood pub.  Consumed were three cheeseburgers and one plate of hot wings.  The Philosopher is predictable, whenever possible, I have hot wings.  Oh and a salad!

My middle child, the Rockstar, finally understood the concept of doing his fair share of work around the house and did a bang-up job on the yard: mowing, trimming, weed-eating.  It was rewarding to see him respond positively to my ever-so-slight nudging.  Ahh, the sweet feeling of parental progress.

I spent Saturday afternoon running errands for my elderly grandfather.  He is in a nursing home.  He will be 97 next month.  I am the only family member in town so it falls to me to take care of his business.  I brought my youngest, the Sage, along on the errands.  We rode with the top down on the convertible enjoying the sunshine on our faces.  I did my best to keep a smile on my face even though my heart ached missing my Fox.

Saturday night, Ladybug had one last performance to give and a cast party to attend.  Rockstar spent the night at a friend's house and the Sage and I watched the Law & Order marathon for a bit and then an "apocalyptic movie" (Sage's description) on Netflix while I played a little Words With Friends (winning and losing equally). 

During the Law & Order marathon, an infomercial for http://www.tummytuckbelt.com/  came on and the Sage practically ran for the phone so I could order it. He was sold on it.  He said "I know you've been doing Zumba mom and you are getting smaller but you're kinda not going anywhere either.  You should buy this."  As the infomercial waned on and the timer in the corner of the screen ticked down, he was getting really concerned I would miss out on this opportunity.  I thanked him for his concern about my stomach. But as I tried to explain how advertising works, he simply wasn't interested. The only way I could get him to relax was to tell him that I'm sure I can visit the web site at any time to order.  I was not going to miss out.  Sunday morning came and the Sage's first question was  "So did you buy the tummy tuck?"   I just laughed and told him "not yet, not yet." 

I am not offended by his eagerness to help me.  He has heard me complain of my c-section belly for his entire life.  He sees me exercise daily and watch what I eat and has seen me lose 40 pounds over the last few years.  He is simply trying to support my efforts.  I suppose I need to work with him on finessing his persuasive argument skills though. (And for the record, although I have not bought one of those belts, I am intrigued...)

The really difficult moment this weekend came when I, singlehandedly, crushed Ladybug's dreams of attending college in her favorite city, Chicago.  I tried to explain that accumulating $100K+  in student loans  to fund the difference in what the university was offering her in financial aid and what the costs were to actually attend it, was short-sighted, financially irresponsible and not worth it.  I stuck to my decision and to say that she was not happy with it would be an understatement.  There were tears, raised voices, exclamations that "I just didn't understand how she will die if she is not in Chicago."  It was not the sort of conversation you envision yourself having when you are first gazing down at your child's sleeping newborn face and you are filled with all those warm fuzzies that come with being a new parent.  Nope at that point in time all you think you will talk about are butterflies, rainbows and chocolate ice cream.  It sucks to crush dreams.  Sometimes though, parental progress equals extremely uncomfortable and difficult feelings.  But you do what you have to do.

However, it's a new week.  Rain everyday.  I've got a lot to keep myself busy: a few projects at work, grandpa's business, and my writing (more than just blogging).  Woven throughout it though will be continuing to work on healing, loving & missing my Fox and asking the universe to continue to take care of us, all of us.