Everybody Starts Somehwere

Mood: old

Guys, I have got to stop blogging once every 6 months or so. I've wanted to write for a while...but I just always feel like somebody else has said anything that I have to write before. And they've said it more eloquently. And if it's somebody super awesome, like Allie Brosh, she's said it with pictures. Sometimes of bears. How can I compete with that?

I've recently become immersed in the world of YouTube, the beauty gurus in particular. Oh how dangerous their voices are when I'm in my local CVS. As I watch them I remember how when I was a teenager I would put my makeup on in front of the mirror and verbally coach an invisible audience through it. I seriously did. I did the same thing with cooking, acting like I was going to be the star of a cooking show. It never occurred to my 16 year old self that when the interwebs became awesome and people started uploading videos that I might have something to say. And that invisible audience might actually be real people one day.

Actually, I gave up on a career in beauty altogether right after I graduated from college and was offered a job for BareMinerals. Stupid Ashley. The thing is, I can't really beat myself up over that. If I had agreed to be the Marketing Rep for the Philadelphia region of their sales force...well...I wouldn't have had a reason to move to Iowa broke and jobless. I wouldn't have met my husband. I wouldn't know my stepson. And I wouldn't have this ball of fluff.

How can I wallow in what might have been with that face staring at me? Um. I can't.

When it comes to doing things I want to, but am too afraid to do, Jeff is always right there cheering me on. Encouraging me to try things that scare me. Blogging. Vlogging. New craft ideas from Pinterest....

"I like your writing."  

"It's always fun to read."

 "Other people like your writing." 

And more recently he's been nagging me to start vlogging...if it's something I want to do of course. 

"All the beauty gurus started somewhere." He's right of coure. And all the bloggers did too. I guess that sitting in front of my computer hoping that one day I'll wake up an internet made millionaire isn't going to do me any good. Like a millionaire that gets to roll around naked in money (though that's probably reaaaaaaaaaaally dirty).  I know, of course, that making this much money wouldn't make me happy automatically, money is NOT what the whole world is about...but I'd like to make enough money to say, have our own house one day. I wouldn't turn down naked rolling money, but I'd settle for rent money of course. For now....

This horribly connected post is a reintroduction of sorts to the world of blogging and reaching out a bit socially. I've developed an unhealthy relationship with YouTube, my couch and the view from the deck when I'm feeling adventurous.

Jeff's assertion that everybody starts somewhere is true. And I keep thinking about that and while I acknowledge that the statement is true I guess my hang up is that...I'm not a somebody. And I'm not destined to be a somebody. I used to dream of a life of fame on Broadway but when I actually realized that I could not carry a tune to save my live and actually may cause others to take their own lives...well...the whole idea of fame kind of wore off. Then I wanted to be a famous writer...the next J.K. Rowling. Hell, I'd be Stephenie Meyer if I no longer had to worry about money. Maybe not. I want to put out art that I am truly proud of, not that makes quick millions. Although....

Anyway. Discussions on what constitutes good literature (i.e. NOT Twilight) is not at all the point here. The point is that I'm slowly starting to realzie that, damn it, I might be somebody. And I may never be Rowling rich or famous. I may never have over a million subscribers who want to hear what I have to say about Cetaphil face wash (incidentally I quite like it!) and I may have Allie Brosh darling of the internet status. That's fine I guess. My point is that at 29 I'm finally ready to do things like taking risks and failing. I have got to stop never starting for fear of failure. Cause, I mean, that really has gotten me nowhere. And I can't even say I tried.

I don't know what I'm going to do. I'm fairly certain that vlogging as a beauty guru is not what I'm meant to do, but it does look pretty fun. Too bad I'm sure I couldn't edit videos with any skill whatsoever. What I do believe in is my love affair with words. With writing. With connecting to otherss via words and ideas. So for now, I'm going to dip my little toe into the ocean and gently ease back in to writing. Regularly. On this blog. And I hope you're willing to take whatever journey I'm on with me.

Lessons in Humility

Alternate title:  Proof That my (Almost) 4 Year Old Stepson is Smarter Than me.....

Mood:  humble, happy, hopeful

I have to admit, I never wanted children.  Publicly anyway.  As I've gotten older I've realized that not wanting children was indeed a defense mechanism.  If I say I don't want any then how can I possibly be disappointed when I don't have any?  I do have one, though.  Malcolm may not be my son by blood or biology, but in my heart I know we were meant to be in each other's lives.  

Reason #1 I know this to be true?  He forces me to learn something new every single day.  And if we're being completely honest I learn something new about 20 times a day when I'm with him.  My current favorite example happened last night.  Last month my mom shipped her old Clarisonic face brush to me as I was having a horrid time with my face breaking out, but could not afford to purchase one myself.  Last month is the most important part of that sentence.  I have been using this for a full month.  30 days.  I've been cleansing morning and night religiously with this thing.  I just yesterday learned that there is more than 1 speed.  How did I learn this?  Malcolm picked it up.  That's it.  Withing 10 seconds of having it turned on he managed to show me that there is more than 1 setting.  Why had it never occurred to me to press that damn button a second time?

Which leads me to reason #2 that I know we are destined to be lifelong friends.  He makes me wonder.  I took a course in seminary on wonder.  What wonder is, how to encourage it, how to take time to wonder.  It seemed so logical and smart and easy at age 23, having never been outside of an academic setting.  I would sit in class and think that of course we all needed to stop and smell the proverbial roses, why on earth was I earning credit for this class?  Then life happened.  5 years of work and general living and not being an official student later, I wish I would remember to smell those roses.  Or to look at the snow outside and think not of the delays and headaches that it will result in, but how infinitely amazing it is that there is 13 inches on the ground and not one single flake is the same as another.   Malcolm is a constant reminder that the world is full of things to marvel at.  From the universal and deeply meaningful to remembering that it's okay to experiment with everyday items just to "see what happens."

And the third and most important reason I know that Malcolm was more than a huge bonus to meeting and marrying Jeff?  I love him.  It may seem like that reason doesn't make sense.  But to me, it does.  I love this child.  This child that did not grow inside me, nor did I ever see in infancy.  This child that could already walk and punch and argue when we met.  This child that teaches me all the time that I am capable of more.  I am so much more than what I limit myself to.  Jeff tells me this, my parents and sister tell me this, it is something I "know."  Yet for some reason when this realization comes from Malcolm it clicks.  I have a sudden, fleeting moment of clarity that whatever horrible thing is happening at this exact second is just a speck of dust on the "big picture" of our lives.  I have gained patience that I never thought I would have.  And love that is so pure and real that wondering at it now, tears of joy fall from my eyes.

Parenthood, and step-parenthood in particular, is trial by fire.  There is nothing to be done except do and then pray that you're doing something right.  Judging by Malcolm Jeff has done a great job, and the way he relates to me I think maybe I'm not doing too shabby.  I know that this is a lifelong job, and I am already dreading Malcolm circa age 12...but today I am so blessed to be spending time with him.  Teaching him.  Loving him.  But most importantly, learning and growing from him.