When I grow up

McG wants to be a vet when she grows up. We flirted briefly with ballerina, but for the last year, it has been vet and nothing but vet. In the past 6 months, she has not brought home 1 book from the library that does not have something to do with the animal world. She enjoys reading fiction, that she already owns, but take her to the library and it’s 6 books about cats (usually the big ones), bears, spiders, pandas, and in one case, which I hope not to repeat, hyenas. (The most disgusting of all animals, if anyone wants my opinion).

Will she be a vet? Who knows? But I don’t really recall knowing I wanted to be anything when I was little. I remember seeing the movie Amadeus when I was 14, I think and deciding I wanted to do something with classical music. My mother, of course, just knew I would be a famous musician or a composer or a conductor. These things were never going to happen, but I could see myself being a music teacher. That was what I wanted to be.

Long story short, I am not a music teacher. I realized in college, that teaching probably wasn’t the thing for me. And I really wasn’t talented enough to be a classical performer. So I graduated community college with an AA in music and no money to continue down another path and no plans for the future.

I have 2 parents. (I think most of us do.) My mother decided, at 16, the minute she heard her voice on the radio, that that was what she would devote her life to. And she has. She has chased this dream of radio from one end of the country to another. When it appeared radio had turned its back on her, 35 years into a long and distinguished career, she was suicidal and made it her goal to return to radio in some fashion. It’s what her last dying breath will be. My mother’s “Rosebud” is “Radio”.

Then there’s my dad. A mechanic when he was younger, and then spent the next probably 40 years running big machines on road crews. It was a job. Not sure he ever enjoyed it, but he didn't hate it. It was just his job.

So I got out of college and floated around for a year or two; restaurant work, mostly cashiering. Then, someone my mother knew, knew someone who said that they worked at a collection agency and I went in for an interview. Collection agent in a call center. It was a job, they required no experience and it paid better than The Olive Garden. I was in. And I was surprised, but I was good at it. While I may not have had a career that was my end all-be all-everything, I did have my mother’s work ethic and competitive spirit, so I became employee of the month after only 3 months there, became employee of the quarter twice and employee of the month about 4 more times. I became a back up trainer, I became an assistant manager, I transferred to their Dallas office and eventually became their human resource manager. And I really enjoyed it. Over the next 13 years (!) I would move to different companies (always collections) and continue to, for the most part, succeed. My wages increased, I met nice people, I felt I had a knack for collections. Did I love it? Would I have committed suicide to find I could no longer find a job in collections? Absolutely not. It wasn’t that kind of career. It was a living. And I decided that I would get my end all-be all-everything out of something else in my life. My family, my friends, my activities, my organizations, hobbies, etc; there were plenty of people, the majority of people is my guess, that worked a job to put food on the table and were fulfilled in other ways. That was going to be me.

18 months ago, I got the opportunity to move out of collections. I am not working in a non-profit health industry related job. Basically an administrative job. I spend my days typing and looking at contracts and running reports and placing auto claims. But I’m not on the phone constantly, I have my own space that is not a desk connected to 10 other desks in a huge room with 30 other sets of 10 desks and phones ringing and people yelling. It’s quiet there. And I’m very slowly starting to understand my job. I can speak with knowledge and authority about 55% of the time. That feels good. I’m becoming more organized and that feels good.

So is this what I’m going to do for the rest of my life? Is this it? If it is, okay. But as 40 approaches, as marriage (possibly) ends, as the offspring grows, I find myself faced with the question. What do I want to be when I grow up?
A lady I work with sent me a link the other day. You spend 3 minutes clicking on colors. Nothing but colored blocks. Out of these three colors, what do you like the most? Out of these 2, which do you like the least? Out of these 9, click on your favorite in order. Then it gave me a run down of my “Best Occupational Category”

You're a CREATOR

Key Words: Nonconforming, Impulsive, Expressive, Romantic, Intuitive, Sensitive, and Emotional

These original types place a high value on aesthetic qualities and have a great need for self-expression. They enjoy working independently, being creative, using their imagination, and constantly learning something new. Fields of interest are art, drama, music, and writing or places where they can express, assemble, or implement creative ideas.

CREATOR OCCUPATIONS
Suggested careers are Advertising Executive, Architect, Web Designer, Creative Director, Public Relations, Fine or Commercial Artist, Interior Decorator, Lawyer, Librarian, Musician, Reporter, Art Teacher, Broadcaster, Technical Writer, English Teacher, Architect, Photographer, Medical Illustrator, Corporate Trainer, Author, Editor, Landscape Architect, Exhibit Builder, and Package Designer.

CREATOR WORKPLACES
Consider workplaces where you can create and improve beauty and aesthetic qualities. Unstructured, flexible organizations that allow self-expression work best with your free-spirited nature.

Suggested Creator workplaces are advertising, public relations, and interior decorating firms; artistic studios, theaters and concert halls; institutions that teach crafts, universities, music, and dance schools. Other workplaces to consider are art institutes, museums, libraries, and galleries.

In the back of my mind, I’ve always thought I would love to be a writer. It’s something I enjoy; it’s something I have passion for. On the other hand, I get satisfaction out of succeeding in a corporate situation and probably the happiest I’ve ever been in a job all around was when I was a human resource manager. That is something I think I could excel at. Corporate trainer would also be very cool on some levels. I see these women, in suits, come into my office and give speeches and train, and I think, “What a cool job! I could totally do that!”

There’s a woman at my company and I can’t quite pin down what she does. She organizes parties on the holidays and memorial services when someone has passed and she runs the activities committee that plans special events. I would LOVE that job!!!

But then, on alternate days, I think that I would really love to be a counselor or a therapist. Not a psychologist or psychiatrist, but a Licensed Clinical Social Worker where I could still see patients and help people.

Dear God, why don’t I just add “Princess” to the list!?!?!?!?!

I found out that my company offers tuition reimbursement (which is the ONLY way I am going to be able to go back to school!) and I found a college with a fairly reasonably priced tuition and an extensive on line curriculum (No! Not U of Phoenix!). One of the degrees they offer is Human Services. And it sounds like something I could work into my current job, as far as showing how a degree in Human Services, paid for by my company, could enhance the company. And maybe it’s something I could use to help someone, somewhere.

What do I want to be when I grow up??????

It would be nice to say I had a bachelors degree. It would be nice to tell my daughter that.

By the time I decide, maybe McG, the extremely successful Vet, can hire me!!!

The End of the Naked Era

So recently, McG had her tonsils out and the funny thing is, right after that happened, she began to stop wetting the bed. Now the child has been potty trained since she was 3, during the day. And at night, we implemented a strict "no drinks 2 hours before bed" and "Go to the bathroom twice before bed" rule, but almost 5 years later, we are still buying pull ups or washing sheets daily for the simple fact that the girl is a dead sleeper. A dead sleeper. Nothing wakes her up. At the age of 10 months she slept through what was called "One of the worst hail storms to hit MO in the last 50 years". In the mornings, it takes, literally, 15-20 minutes to wake her up, and it doesn't seem to matter how long she has slept. But after she had her tonsils removed, she woke up in the middle of the night, 8 nights in a row, crying in pain, so while she was taking medicine and having a popsicle, hey, let's hit the bathroom. And now that the pain has subsided and she's back to normal, the bed wetting has ceased, about 90% of the time and since she just had the surgery a few weeks ago, I really am optimistic.
I tell this story because something else happened recently. I work my 2nd job at 5 in the morning, Monday through Friday (does that make it my first job, if I leave it and go to my full time job at 8am?) so M is responsible with getting McG up, fed ,dressed and off to school. Within the last couple weeks, she won't let M. see her naked anymore. She makes sure she has underwear on and closes the door to her bedroom when she's dressing. Now this, in no way, has effected my relationship with McG. She lets me in the bathroom when she's sitting on the toilet, I can be in the room when she gets dressed, she comes and talks to me while I'm getting dressed, but I'm a female. (In case you were wondering!) And she'll be 8 in 2 months. There is certainly nothing unusual about her wanting privacy from the "male", right? Absolutely natural.
But it also means she's growing up. She's maturing and that's kind of hard for me. Like it's hard for me when she asks me if I love M.
"Of course I do, I love everyone in my family"
or "Why do you guys fight all the time"
"We don't fight all the time, you know that. But families sometimes fight. You and I disagree, you fight with Daddy sometimes and sometimes Daddy and I fight." (It really isn't that much, but she seems very attuned to it)
or the kicker,
"I'm sorry I made you guys fight"
"Look at me and listen to what I'm saying. This is not your fault. Daddy and I just had a disagreement, like we talked about all families do. Do not ever think this is your fault."
And she says she understands. She's getting older and more mature, but she' s still so young.
I'm proud that I've never lied to her. That was another recent question. She fines me a quarter when I call another driver an "idiot". (Lucky for me, she hasn't actually asked for the quarters yet!) Recently someone cut me off and I muttered "Oh come on!" and McG said "Oooo! A quarter!" and I said, "No, I did NOT call that person an idiot so I do NOT owe a quarter."
She said "I thought I heard you..."
I said "Nope, not this time kiddo!" proud I had controlled myself to a certain extent.
There was silence for a minute.
"Would you ever lie to me?"
She was referring to the quarter. For me, it was about every single aspect of our lives, beyond the quarter. This was the one question I did not know how to answer.
People keep saying "What kind of lessons are you teaching your daughter about relationships, living in a house with someone with no physical affection, no "I love yous", no relationship between the adults?"
Yes, what am I teaching her. I thought I was teaching her that families come in all shapes and sizes and that we do love each other (just not as husband and wife) and we are committed to our family. And having to tell her I want out, having to tell her that this family, this home will cease to exist, it makes me feel so selfish. Guilty, sure. Sad, of course. But so very, very selfish. Being raised by a narcissist who's only concern was her own well being, happiness and worth
has made me hyper sensitive to this question. Okay, it's Saturday, I'm going out with friends. Dinner, a movie and home before midnight. McG is in the capable(ish), safe hands of her father, and I had spent the day with her, running to the library, the grocery store, talking, laughing, singing at the top of our lungs in the car (music is a deep love we share), so why in the hell should I feel guilty, because once or twice a month, I go out on my own? I shouldn't. But the images of my own mother going out, drinking and coming home smelling awful, bringing strange people home, parties at 4 in the morning, come flooding back. I am not my mother and I know that. My child is not going to become a sociopath because I get a divorce. And taking care of my own mental and emotional happiness does not make me selfish or a bad person. Yes I know, I know! Everyone says the same thing.
But go find someone you love so deeply, it almost hurts and try telling them that the life they know is about to end. They are going to have to move, they are going to have to get used to new situations, new emotions, a whole new way of life. Now tell it to someone who hasn't even lost all their baby teeth and let me know how it goes.

Limbo!!!!!

Weird, weird times are afoot! (Why does no one use afoot anymore?)

12 step program? I feel like I'm spinning my wheels, but if I quit, I will weigh 250 pounds by my birthday, without a doubt.
Act as if (and basically the rest will follow) is one of the gems of my 12 step program. I need to act as if and if I am acting as if and doing the next right thing, eventually everything will fall into place. I need to reach out to God more. I'm just tired, I think.

I've made a decision that it's time to get a divorce. It's time to move on. It's time to have a lot of sex. This may take me a year to get my house ready to sell, etc., but it's time to start. It's time to stop letting other people control my life and my path.

I realized that I am miserable 10% of the time. And I also realized that my happy times, my content times, my "picture perfect" family times, are all determined by another person's needs and emotional state. That's not right. I am also realizing, although I've known it all along, that these things are all effecting my child and I do not want that to happen.

M. is never going to change. My sponsor agrees. Two therapists agree. There is absolutely no ability to change. I believe, truly, there are people who can change. And there are those who are powerless. He is powerless over Compulsive Assholeitis. It's sad, but there it is! Seriously, whatever it is, the threat of losing his marriage, losing full time access to his child, uprooting his life and security, have never been incentive for change. So what else is there?
And what I've come to realize is that, as I've told some close to me, I am not being physically abused. I am under no threat of danger should I choose to leave. That means the only person keeping me here, is me. This is my decision, to put up with this situation. If I am miserable, I can't blame him anymore. Because I've stood before him and said "You suck and this is wrong, but I will accept and put up with whatever you dish out..."

That 5-10% is part of what is messing me up I think. If I'm miserable 10% of the time, and happy 90%, well 90% is nothing to sneeze at! Plenty of people are happy way less of the time, right? Plus, we all know my issues with my house and my security and making sure my daughters life is better than mine.

But what if, living on my own, I can achieve a shot of 100%? Not that it's always going to be happy or easy, (I'm not that delusional!!!), but what if I can call the shots on my own life? 100% of the time? What if I can make decisions without having to worry about what anyone else thinks or feels? What if I can show my daughter that strength and security come from within?

I'm back on my eating plan, after a small slip yesterday. Thank you God. McG made it through her tonsil surgery with minimal stress and no complications. Thank you God. The weather seems to be cooling off. Thank you God.

Right now, it feels like all I can manage is a Thank you. But I hope, for now, it will be sufficient.