Mommyto5's blog

Alpha Woman, Gamma Woman? Can't I Just Be a WOMAN?

2008-08-30T19:44:13-05:00

I'm not sure at what age I actually became a woman. Did it start with my period? Because if that's the case, I was just shy of 10 years old when I entered into woman-hood. That just doesn't sound right. I was still playing with my Penny Bright dolls and listening to the Carpenter's on my GE record player. I still wore an undershirt and my underpants had Winnie The Pooh on them. Hey, for all you know, they still do.

So, I'll rule out age 10 and perhaps embarrass myself here and figure that I became a woman when I first had sex. Yes, I can say sex here. I didn't say "hot as hell sex" or "down and dirty sex". I said "sex". First time sex. Scary sex. Oh-My-God-I'm-not-a-virgin-any-more sex. I was almost 19. Alright, it's OK to laugh. For those of you who started earlier, you're probably sick of it by now. I'm not.....so there!

So, now that I'm done with the late bloomer paragraph, I'll go on to say that somewhere between 19 and 21 I became a woman. I got married at 20 and had my first daughter at 21. I think woman-hood started around then.

This blog is not about my sex life (currently I do not have one, so that would be a short blog) or giving birth. It's about all the classifications that are given to women these days. I guess you're no one if you aren't an Alpha Woman, a Gamma Woman or a Beta Chick. I knew nothing about these categories and where I fit until I learned about a website for supposed "Alpha" type women. I went on to blog and then did a short stint as a website administrator for the site. Now, I'm not bashing the site, because I think it serves its purpose for some women, but was I forced into thinking I was an Alpha Woman because I was drawing a paycheck? Perhaps. I guess I didn't make it into the Alpha club because they supposedly couldn't afford to pay me anymore...otherwise known as "we don't like your opinions. They don't fit within our mold". Who knows. I didn't lose sleep over it....it just gave me an opportunity to try to find where I fit in the new woman categories that I'd discovered.

I know now that I am not an Alpha woman. According to one article I read in The GlassHammer: "Alphas value status and express their high standing on the social ladder through their clothes, their homes, their cars, their careers, and even their families."Another article on AskMen.com seems to classify Alpha females as complete biatches: "The alpha female is used to having men pursue her and give in to her every whim. The alpha female is a busy woman, or at least she is very talented at making you believe that." I do not need status to make me a good woman. Never mind the fact that I'm scared to death of climbing a ladder, so I'll just remain a strong woman right here on the ground. As far as needing men to pursue me, I don't believe in the chasing in either direction. In the end, it's a power play and it's only done by those with deep rooted insecurities. Look at me pretending I'm an expert on the man/woman thing....but it sounds good, doesn't it? I like that phrase "deep-rooted". I think someone said that about my hair the other day......what were they talking about???

OK, so it's clear I'm not Alpha. I love nice things but I don't need to have them to show that I am one hell of a great chick. I don't need power to show strength. I've given birth 5 times without the help of mind-altering drugs, so I think that speaks volumes about my strength. Or stupidity. I've been a single Mom for over 7 years and we have a roof over our heads, no one is starving and we haven't had to use cereal boxes as bottoms on our shoes...yet. I don't need to be called an Alpha to know that I'm one strong woman. I'm Polish. Enough said.

Could I be a Gamma woman? Probably not. I'm sure I fall more into this category because apparently a Gamma woman's sense of self is guided by her internal beliefs, passions, and priorities, That's a long string of words that means I do what I feel is best. Doesn't everyone? I don't have to be called a "Gamma" to know that. Gammas put their family first; work exists to serve family needs, not the reverse. OK, I agree with that. My kids come first for sure...but do I need a group of people who were paid gobs of money to do a study to tell me that? Not a chance.

I'm not even going to get into Betas, Omegas and whatever else might be lurking out there. I'm a woman. A good, old-fashioned, heterosexual, enjoy-the-moment, curvy, steak loving, Pepsi-sneaking woman. Let's not forget classy when it's called for, sarcastic when necessary and not concerned about being on top unless....well.....that's a blog for a different day. Funny how this blog could make a full circle back to becoming a woman and having sex.

So, I'm going to get back to being a woman....not "just" a woman...but just myself. I don't want to be a power player or a back stabbing, man-bashing woman who doesn't "need a man". I'm single and very content with my life as it is...but if Mr. VeryPerfectForME walked into my life, I've got plenty of room here on the couch.

Do You Have Internet Dating Stories?

2008-08-01T18:07:37-05:00

Hello!

I am excited to say that my book idea/manuscript has been preliminarily accepted for publication...very great news for me. It's past the "toddler" stage and really taking shape. However, I'd love some more stories to add to it. The book is based on the trials and ERRORS of internet dating....a humorous look at what his profile say vs what it means. I have a story for almost every "he wrote this but meant that" line. I've scoured thousands of profiles and begrudgingly have gone on many dates just to discover that the lines were just that...lines.

Do you have some strange experiences...the man didn't match the photo?...or perhaps he bragged about his important job but really didn't have one?

I'd love to hear from you. Each person who submits will get to see a final copy of their story (600 words or less please!!) and a copy of my book when it publishes. (I'm looking at around March 2009, possibly earlier).

This is an exciting project, very fun and an amusing/realistic book for anyone entering the dating world again.

Contact me at greeneyedgirl563@gmail.com

I'd be happy to tell you more! :)

Thanks and happy blogging....

The Gratitude Box

2008-08-01T17:35:33-05:00

I've always stressed to my children how important it is to say "please" and "thank you". Fortunately, it is something that they never forget. I notice it all the time for even the smallest things. I love that.

Today while we were having lunch, I told my three youngest children that we were going to have a new family project: The Gratitude Box.

"No spelling bee anymore??" asked Mya.

Yes, I'm the corny Mom who has spelling bees with her children instead of sitting in front of the television wasting brain cells.

I began to explain my idea for a Gratitude Box. I think I saw Zach, just shy of 13 years old, roll his eyes a little....but he listened.

"We're going to choose names out of a box each day." I said, looking at three curious faces. "You will then write something nice about that person...anything nice. Something they are good at, something nice they did or just something you want to say. If you pull your own name out of the box, you can write something you like about yourself. How does that sound?"

"OK! Can we start RIGHT NOW???" asked Maxx excitedly.

Apparently this was going over well. I was really happy that they were receptive to the idea, although I kind of knew that they would be. Giving them a positive "voice" is so important in this world of negatives.

We began right away. We found a box, paper and pens. I wrote each of our names on a separate piece of paper and we put them in the box. Everyone pulled one out. That would be the person they would write about today.

"I got myself!!!!" yelled Maxx.

"I got Mommy. Yipee." said my freckled faced Mya.

Zach shook his way-too long hair out of his eyes and said, "What am I going to say about my 7 year old sister??"

I knew this would happen. Zachary often feels he's much too cool and much to "mature" to do this sort of thing...much less compliment the little sister who sporadically tattles on him. I knew this was going to be tough for him because he is a great kid but he's also very much in that "me, me, me" teen-aged stage.

So, we went ahead and got our pieces of paper out and started writing. I picked Zach's name and immediately thought of how great his laugh was last night when he was watching a movie with Maxx. He sleeps late, skateboards and eats me out of house and home. Sometimes he doesn't laugh as much as I wish he would. Something about hormones I suppose. So, the laugh stood out in my mind.

I wrote: "Zach has such a great laugh". I'm sure he probably was thinking I'd write something about how he should clean up after himself or get his hair out of his eyes.

Soon everyone was done writing and passed them to me to read.

"Mommy cooks so good", wrote Mya. My immediate instinct to correct her grammar and say, "Mommy cooks so well" was stopped when I looked at her proud little face. Mommy cooks good it was....and I loved it.

"I love my animals", wrote Maxx. He was the only one who picked his own name. He loves animals so much that it was almost certain that he would write something about his passion.

"Mya will be a good Mom because she tells me what to do alot." wrote Zach. AHHHHH....was that positive? Well, about as positive as you can get for a teenager.

"So, Zach, do you think that was positive?" I asked

"Yeah, it was sort of", he replied with that deep voice that I'm having a hard time getting used to.

"Could you try again? Maybe add something that is a bit less about you and what bothers you?" I tried to ask nicely. You have to ask nicely when you have a teen-aged boy. This I am learning.

He did it. He wrote another one after a few minutes of though.

"Mya is good at drawing and will definitely become an artist". He was smiling. Most of the time it's a smirk but he was really proud of himself. I didn't tell him that because that's an "AW Shucks" moment and he'd get all flustered with me for being sappy.

Mya loved it. She draws all the time so it made her really happy that her sometimes too cool big brother noticed her talent.

It was an interesting lunch. As a family, it's important to keep things positive. It's so hard with all these different personalities under one roof. The Gratitude Box turned out to be a great thing. They all asked when we would do this again...so we all decided together that it would be every night at dinner. We would pick names in the morning and we'd then be able to put our answers in the box any time during the day. I would read them at dinner time.

In a world that is often full of sad/bad news, high prices, tight budgets and stress, this was an awesome way to connect with my kids. A little goofy or too "Walton Family" for you? Oh, well...it was great fun and now will be part of our dinner conversation.

Maybe I can inspire someone else to do this?

For the love of an extra 10 pounds....

2008-06-02T09:30:37-05:00

I've gained 10 lbs since I've had two knee surgeries in 6 months. It's not because I'm sitting around eating bon-bons. I suppose I have to blame it on inactivity which is driving me absolutely nuts. I think I'm venting here.

I'm not a skinny woman, haven't been since I was 21. I have five children and enjoy my earned curves. However, I didn't ask to get more of them. I thought my knee was getting fixed. I didn't realize the bonus prize was a little extra padding around my hips. Is that nature's way of providing me with extra padding in case I fall off of my crutches? (Been there, done that...it still hurt even with the padding.)

So I ventured into this conversation with a really spectacular man who I've been getting to know. I think it's called dating. He's straight up with what he says, which I love. As much as women love to be told they look great, we'd like to hear the truth. He discussed curves with me on the phone last night. I spoke of my dislike for the extra 10 pounds. In the end, he told me that curves are spectacular and looking like a starving waif is not a look that's appealing to any man. Who knew. I wasn't going for the flat tummy and six pack abs, but I didn't realize the way I look was appealing to a man who just happens to look ultra marvelous.

So, I'm going to indulge in that ice cream today from the ice cream truck when my children beg me to have something yummy with them. I'm going to continue to love my huge lunchtime salads because I love them...not because they'll make me look skinny. I'm going to appreciate these hips...they've helped me give birth 5x, they've been helping to hold me up after massive knee reconstruction and.......they're catching the eye of someone I think is very special.

So, if you've got 10 pounds to shed, consider just appreciating it. I'm starting extra-padding appreciation day today.

School's Almost Out...Camp Mommy is soon to open

2008-05-26T10:58:25-05:00

Thirteen more days until school is out for the summer. I still have three children at home and that means Camp Mommy will open in a few short weeks. Endless piles of wet towels, crumpled up bathingsuits in a soggy pile in the hamper, children as thirsty as camels and an exploding summer food budget. Sounds like Camp Paradise to me!

Wet laundry aside, I am really looking forward to this summer with my children. I've been an "at home Mommy" for the past year after a car accident forced me into two extensive knee surgeries. I'm still on crutches and hobbling around but the thought of hobbling in the good weather with my children makes things even better.

Of course, I'll be mopping more than ever, doing twice the laundry and repeating "No more in and out with wet feet". However, I'll be enjoying the silly laughter, going out for ice cream and learning to use crutches on the beach (I am determined!). That is enough to make up for the extra chores that I'll be tackling this summer.

So, I am preparing for Camp Mommy now. Coming home from my daily physical therapy session and sneaking in a nap while the children are in school is a must. I'm stocking up on simple things like bubbles, buckets and juice boxes. There will be little rest this summer with children 7, 10 and soon to be 13 but I wouldn't trade it for the world. Oh....and my oldest daughter (24) is getting married in Jamaica on August 5. So, there is a long weekend in paradise coming......

My Life According to Candles....

2008-05-16T21:58:01-05:00

I'm a self professed candle addict and I can't walk by a candle store without going in to take a look. Who am I kidding? I never just look. I always need one more candle that makes my home smell like I just baked an apple pie.

With all the candle scents that have been created, I thought about coming up with my own. Not sure if there'd be any best sellers in there but we all can't have a candle called "Paradise" burning all the time.

Morning Breakfast This scent is reminiscent of many rushed mornings and has a blend of sweet, sugary cereal and spilled milk. There is a slight, citrusy hint of orange juice..not too much, but just enough to make you remember how kids never seem to finish what's in their cup.

Home From School Sick An overpowering aroma of "someone's faking it" followed by the sweet smell of "sorry, you can't go out later and play with your friends".

Adult Sick Day Light and breezy with the scent of coconut tanning oil and the warmth of abundant sunshine.

Ex-Husband This passive-aggressive aroma sneaks up on you when you least expect it. Typically on the Saturday night you finally have plans and he needs to switch weekends. It almost smells like lilacs and daisies for a moment, but then the unmistakable aroma of my life is far more important than yours follows you for hours until it evolves into the comforting smell of pizza and juice boxes.

Cat Pan No matter how hard you try, this scent is always one poop ahead of your scoop. The minute you smell the waft of that nice, clean kitty litter, you'll be overcome with the nauseating smell of the result of your cat eating ocean fresh white fish in a rich, nasty gravy.

Hot Buttered Bank Teller So perfectly tan and perky but then there are those occasional moody undertones of "I'm sorry, those funds aren't available yet".

School Project This scent will remind you of the stale smell of Office Maxx combined with a hint of Elmer's Glue. This candle will typically be lit at the last minute or when all the stores are closed and the project is due the next morning.

Purple Laundry A lovely lavender color the seeps all over everything that was white to begin with. The scent of a child's grape lipgloss fragrantly reminds you to clean out everyone's pockets.

I Just Mopped The Floor That unmistakenly glorious lemon fresh smell that you worked so hard to enjoy....followed by undertones of dripping juice boxes and muddy feet. Perfect during summer vacation.

Kid's Bedtime Part tutti-fruitti shampoo scented hair, part favorite old blankie and a good book. It smells like comfort and sweet dreams.

Walkers, Crutches and Canes...Oh My....

2008-05-15T18:34:19-05:00

Today I got a new addition to my massive stash of orthopedic devices. A cane. A CANE?? I'm just 9 days shy of turning 45 and I've got myself a good old geriatric cane. Oh joy.

In November 2007, I had my first of two knee surgeries after a car accident left my knee in disrepair. I've spent the last 6 months on crutches and in a variety of braces ranging from a full leg hellish-contraption to my current sleek German engineered brace. It might be engineered as well as a BMW but it sure doesn't make me move that fast. It just helps my knee from going where it shouldn't.

When I came home from the hospital in November I was given a walker. I truly thought I'd never leave the confines of my house for fear someone might mistake me for a patient who escaped from the Happy Hills Nursing Home. I really don't have much of an ego but whatever ego I did have was squelched immediately when I took my first steps with my walker while wearing my fuzzy bathrobe. All I was missing were tennis balls on the bottom of each leg and a pair of cataract sunglasses. Instead I took my painkillers as prescribed so that I wouldn't realize that I not only had a leg that hurt worse than childbirth but I could also easily win an audition for The Golden Girls.

A few weeks later I was upgraded to crutches. I felt young again. Well, sort of. I still moved slower than a dead turtle and it took me at least 10 minutes to get down the icy front steps when I had to leave the house. At least I could pretend I had a skiing accident or something glamorous....like falling off of high heels while I did Salsa dancing. The operative word here is "pretend".

Six months later the crutches no longer had that youthful appeal I thought they did. My children thought they looked "fun"....I wanted to melt them with a torch and turn them into a sculpture. I had an additional surgery in April which slowed me down again, but I refused to give in to a wheelchair or go back to the walker from hell. I stuck with the crutches and thankfully, they stood by me even though I cursed them on a daily basis.

Today, I was upgraded....and degraded in a way. My surgeon gave me a cane and told me to "go slow" but keep the crutches "just in case". Go slow? How much slower can I go? I had to be retrained on how to walk with this skinny gray stick that made me feel about as confident as I did when I first walked in high heels. Oh how I miss my high heels.

So, I'm trying this cane out and hoping that soon I'll be walking a little more like a lady and a little less like Herman Munster. At least I know when I am 80 and the doctor recommends a walker or a cane I can say "Hey, I'm a pro with this stuff...." and I'll get the gold medal in the Senior Walker Olympics.

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The Not So Simple Life of a Mom on Crutches

2008-05-14T15:48:29-05:00

I've always had a sense of humor but lately I've been working a little harder at finding it. My left knee was reconstructed in November 2007 following an auto accident. As an active single mom of five children, I just assumed I'd bounce back quickly and I'd be back to life as I knew it.

Six months later, I am still on crutches and have had two major surgeries. I have screws in my knee that you can find at Home Depot and a variety of post surgical braces that I still have to wear every day. My leg is icy cold from poor circulation and I have scar tissue growing at the rate of my pre-teen son's feet. Well, at least his feet will stop growing. My scar tissue is out of control and affecting my joints so bad that my knee will not bend. The second surgery in April was supposed to clear me of all of my scar tissue but because my body is a wonderland (I'm trying to pretend), it's coming back with a vengance. So much for learning salsa dancing this summer.

My younger children think being on crutches looks "fun". I can't wait to burn them one day...along with all the fancy knee braces I have. It will be some campfire! Hopefully this will come sooner than later; at least I'm hopeful.

I have mastered cooking on crutches---flinging chicken from the refrigerator to the kitchen counter because it's not so easy to carry things when you're held up by two aluminum sticks. My children know how to do laundry so well I may never have to do it again (is this the only positive I can think of right now???). I go to physical therapy almost every day of the week and it's just a little disturbing when I start knowing all the other patients by name. When I start giving them birthday cards, I'll know that I've been going for far too long.

Patience. Everyone tells me to have patience. I'm turning 45 next week and I'd give anything to slip on a pair of those lonely high heels in my closet and go out dancing. Who am I kidding??? I'd be happy to put on a pair of pants that FITS over my brace! I think I've practiced the art of patience long enough.....

Yes, I'm fortunate. I'm fortunate that my children weren't in the car when I was hit from behind. I'm fortunate that it's just my leg. Just my leg. That thing that gets me around and helps me run a household. If you ever hear anyone say "I'd give my left leg for a piece of cake" or something along those lines, tell them to re-think that wish. I'd give UP a piece of cake for my left leg.