Seen this meme? For innocents like me, it’s a little too eerily true to be funny, folks. No laughing!
This is occasionally how I feel about life. So. Many. Things compete for my attention.
Seen this meme? For innocents like me, it’s a little too eerily true to be funny, folks. No laughing!
This is occasionally how I feel about life. So. Many. Things compete for my attention.
Ever feel like “real” friendships aren’t worth the risk?
Back when I was sporting a baby bump (still in the “Is she chubby or pregnant?” phase)—I found out that my third-born was a girl.
There in my then-testosterone-dominated household, pint-sized males regularly calculated the highest step they could jump from without a trip to the ER. They sprinkled around the sides of the toilet. Children’s books instructed me in terminology for construction equipment I never knew existed.
This week I’ve been noodling a lot on 5’2″ powerhouse Rachel Hollis. So you would have find me nestled in a (digital) pile of articles, photos, and from an author’s standpoint, a bit of healthy intimidation. This woman’s a machine.
Hollis is a brand manager, social media maven, and owner of several companies. Her book, Girl, Wash Your Face, sold over 800,000 copies in 2018, plopping it in the top ten books sold in America last year…and she just released another.
It’s a disturbing statistic.
A friend quoted me a study cited in Johann Hari’s Lost Connections: Uncovering the Real Causes of Depression–and the Unexpected Solutions (please forgive me if it’s misquoted).
You’ve been there: Whirling into a coffee shop or dinner with friends. Or talking on the phone while your kids fight in the other room (#methisweek) and you try to remember whether you’ve added salt to the recipe you’re cooking, dang it.
But somehow, the person looking you in the eyes, or on the other end of that phone call has the ability to just…
Be there.
So I wrote you recently how a podcast had opened my eyes to all those Hollywood writers (whose techniques, as a writer, I thought I was studying, but who suck me in just the same).
If there’s any possible time when my husband doesn’t respond to me like a guy in the movies, I’m pretty sure it’s me, and my subpar level of attractiveness.
Like most American women, I am a total sucker for rom-coms and TV drama with a smattering of romance. Who doesn’t love someone being swept off their feet, and laughing at all the stupid ways it goes wrong? Even after 18 years of marriage, I still love…love. Plus, there’s this (usually false?) idea that you’re getting a glimpse of the private stuff we never talk about.
As a writer and real person, I like to think myself immune from the illusions of a perfect husband. When a guy delivers an ingenious, sentimental line, I sometimes imagine the scriptwriter scrawling on a legal pad, grinning because she got it just right. (And if he’s saying something just right from a woman’s perspective, there’s a decent chance the scriptwriter was female.)
But a podcast recently pointed out something else to me. In Hollywood, couples–even married ones–don’t usually have a ton of needed lead time to…well. To get it on (fade to black).
I first took the enneagram about a year ago when my family mentioned it. (Yes, my whole family talks about this kind of stuff. If you’re into a sports team or politics, we might not be able to help you out).
With a husband who’s a Human Resources exec, you can bet I’ve taken my share of personality tests. (I’ve even tried to outwit some of them?)
Personally, the enneagram has brought me more self-knowledge–knowledge that actually helped me truly change–than any of the others. I even keep basic profiles on my Kindle. (Yeah. I’m one of those.) With 207 subtypes, I’ve found it to be fairly accurate for me, which hasn’t always been the case with other profiles.
© 2024 THE AWKWARD MOM
Theme by Anders Noren — Up ↑