Archive for September, 2009

Someday, My Prince….

Tuesday, September 22nd, 2009

My blog title promises that you will get glimpses into the life of a princess. Just think about that. You come here and read that headline, and get all excited thinking you’ll finally know how royalty really lives. And then you read about me cleaning my bathroom.

When a friend helped me set up the blog and chose that title, I thought it was funny. I’m not a princess. I’m like the total opposite of the prissy, girly-girl image. I made him take it off. But he seemed so disappointed that I let him put it back. I didn’t figure anyone would ever read it anyway.

The more I think about it, though, the more I think he may be right. I may not have a crown in my jewelry box, but I think I’m destined to be a princess. As my sister-in-law has pointed out on more than one occasion, I think the rules don’t apply to me. She’s right. My mom doesn’t allow eating in the living room, but I eat there. It’s not that I think rules are unimportant. Other people need them.

I have always wanted to be a princess. My cousin and I would lie in bed at night when she came to visit and talk about what our lives would be like when we married our princes. How we would have lovely clothes and maids and canopy beds on pedestals with velvet curtains all around. I was so sure it would happen!

So why does the life of a princess involve cooking and cleaning? Where’s my driver? There is not a single velvet thing in my entire bedroom! The only princess who ever cleaned anything in a fairy tale was Cinderella, and that was only until her prince came. WHERE’S MY PRINCE?

Personally, I blame it all on Walt Disney. All those princess movies with the helpful little birds and animals were far too believeable. I had long hair, why couldn’t I be Rapunzle? He even taught us to all sing along– “someday my prince will come….” Why didn’t our mothers tell us that when he got here, we’d have to pick up his socks every day? And that princes don’t like canopy beds with velvet curtains? And that crowns are heavy and make your neck hurt?

So maybe the life of a princess isn’t as carefree as a Disney movie. And maybe even real princesses sometimes clean the toilet. Occasionally I even follow the rules. Velvet curtains would just get dusty. But my prince is coming.

Stress!

Tuesday, September 1st, 2009

My life is a little stressful and confusing right now. Everyone’s life is stressful and confusing by the time you hit 45, I think. I have noticed lately that all of my friends, whether happily married or divorced, rich or poor, raising kids or empty nesters, healthy or ill, have stress of some kind going on in their lives, and most of them have multiple problems. Just like me. Just like you, probably.

Recently, when having a complete meltdown because of a setback I wasn’t expecting, a friend told me I should “see my doctor and ask if Zoloft is right for me.” Well, that’s not exactly how she put it, but the idea was that I could handle life better with a “mother’s little helper.” I pointed out that I didn’t like the idea of taking medication and was unwilling to risk the side effects. One must be very cautious before deciding to take medicines that could cause more harm than good. This is serious stuff.

AM I OLD???? Was that the pharmacy queen who used to be the go-to person if you had a headache, sniffles, gas, bee sting, heart attack or the plague? Being born on the edge of the generation that believed in sex, drugs and rock and roll, shouldn’t I be thrilled with the idea of being given happy pills legitimately? I’ve seen those commercials where the bubbles are floating around in their peaceful little world. Don’t I want that? I could get hit with all life’s crap and just smile and float away! Isn’t this a good thing?

Somehow, though, I think that maybe the stressful part of life right now is teaching me some things about myself, and the world, and God. The lessons are hard and I don’t like them. Yes, sometimes they make me cry and sometimes I want to throw things and kick my feet and protest that it’s NOT FAIR!  But growing hurts. Children cry with leg aches when they grow sometimes. Mental pain is different, but the cause is the same. Sometimes growing hurts. I can take the happy pills and avoid the pain. But if it doesn’t hurt, will I learn the lessons? Will I change enough to avoid the mistakes I made in the past? Or will I just float along pretending that my life is fine the way it is?

Quit yelling, I know that some people really need medication to get through stressful times. Some people need it to deal with life every day. If that works for them, I see no problem with it. My decision has to do with whether it works for me. Maybe I would be more effective, maybe my house would be neater, maybe I wouldn’t cry as much. But maybe I wouldn’t learn to make better choices. Maybe I wouldn’t laugh as hard, or rejoice as fully. And maybe in choosing to feel the pain, I have already started to grow.