Faking It

For some reason this popped into my head last week, and I wanted to write a bit about it.

Faking.

You know…faking “it” for your partner. The Big O. *

There seem to be two schools of thought on this topic.

The first is that it’s important to be honest with your partner, and that since faking an orgasm is dishonest, then it’s simply not acceptable. Also, there’s the idea that how is he going to learn to please you better if you fake it? Shouldn’t your partner be understanding enough to know that sometimes you’re simply not going to have an orgasm, and well, there’s nothing wrong with that? I don’t think that I’m alone in saying that the “Big O” isn’t necessary every single time for sex to be enjoyable. Sometimes it’s just nice to be close to your partner in a physical way.

The second school of thought is that there are times (and you ladies know what I’m talking about) when you know that, for whatever reason, it’s simply not going to happen. It’s not that he’s doing anything particularly wrong..but maybe you’ve got too much going on in your brain, you can’t relax, or whatever. The people in this camp think that there’s nothing wrong with a little enthusiastic faking of an orgasm so as not to crush your partner’s male ego. They look at it as a “little white lie”, that as long as it doesn’t happen very often, doesn’t really hurt anyone.

So I’m curious to hear what everyone thinks on this one.

Ladies: Have you ever faked it? Do you still fake it now and again, or do you believe in being honest with your partner?

Guys: Tell me, would it bother you knowing that your woman has faked it from time to time? Would you prefer honesty, or are you okay with the occasional little white lie?

* ~*~*~*

* Oh – and for clarification, CBG, no, I’m not going anywhere with this one…it’s just something I was thinking about….heh. LOVE YOU!!!!

Acceptance

CBG and I had another great couple of days together.

I cooked us dinner, we went to the movies, we went shopping. We had plenty of amazing sex quality snuggle time. We talked and laughed and flirted and sweet talked one another. We smooched excessively. We giggled like silly children. We got up early on Sunday morning and watched the sun rise.

It was another absolutely wonderful weekend.

Saying goodbye was tough, as usual. I’d like to think that I’m getting better with the goodbyes, that I’m learning how to ease the loneliness that settles in when he first drives away. It helps that I’m working on building a solid life here for myself, with my girls, my friends, my job, myself, and my home.

It still feels like a piece of the puzzle is missing. I know that feeling will linger for as long as he and I live apart.

With each passing visit, however, I feel like our relationship is growing stronger and stronger. As we learn more, we love more. WE both gain confidence in the fact that life will provide us with what we need. This weekend there was vague talk of potential future plans that fill me with a lot of hope.

For now, however, I am willing to accept where things are in this moment. I have a man who absolutely adores me….someone who listens to me without judgment. Someone who has seen me at my absolute worst, and loves me anyhow. A man who is able to be completely emotionally vulnerable with me. A man who is willing to put up with all the obstacles that we face, just to be with me.

Life is pretty freaking awesome, all things considered.

More Than “Mom”

When my oldest daughter was born, my life completely revolved around being a mom. It’s only natural, really…newborns are pretty demanding.

For the first year of her life, I was all about being mommy. It was hell. Kiddo wasn’t much of a sleeper, and she nursed practically around the clock for the first several months of her life. I was sleep deprived, feeling completely inadequate, and suffering from (undiagnosed and untreated) postpartum depression.

Kiddo was just over a year old when I got pregnant again. Staying in Mommy mode was pretty easy. I loved being at home with her, and so having another child so close was just a way of ensuring my stay-at-home motherhood.

When Mo was born, things were so much easier. I was already in the swing of things with Kiddo, and since Mo was such a good sleeper, I found that having two children actually wasn’t twice the work of one.

My focus on mommyhood continued.

It wasn’t until Mo was about a year and a half old that I began craving more in my life. I started running, a lot, and eventually began training for my first marathon. I was finding myself more and more dissatisfied with “just being a mom”. The worst part was that I felt guilty for feeling that way. I crammed the feelings down and kept pushing forward.

Depression eventually brought everything to a grinding halt. In my quest to be “more than mom” I made some very regrettable decisions. I hurt my ex husband badly. I became a person that I never thought I would be…and never, ever wanted to be.

One of the best things that has come from splitting with my husband is that it is giving me the opportunity to explore the other sides of myself. I don’t feel trapped in the “wife and mother” role any more. Please don’t get me wrong – I love my girls and I love being a mom, but I have realized now how important balance is in my life.

Balance – in everything – is the key to healthy, happy life.

These days I am happy to be exploring the other sides of who I am. Being a mom will always be the most important role that I have…but I am learning to develop, and appreciate, the other sides of who I am. And I plan on continuing to do that as life goes on. Because even though I will always be a mom, it’s not always going to be the biggest part of who I am, like it is now. And when that time comes, I want to be able to leap into those other roles with great gusto.

It’s good to be more than “just a mom”.

Vindication!!!

So here’s where I ‘fess up and admit that I’m a bit of a germophobe. It’s not anything new or recent, or in response to the whole H1N1 scare, it’s something that’s been going on for most of my adult life. I’ve got a “thing” when it comes to germs.

I’ve been using paper towel to turn off public bathroom faucets and open the bathroom door for a decade now.

People used to give me weird looks.

At the place I worked before kids, I used to keep a bottle of hand sanitizer in my desk. I wasn’t exactly addicted to it, but if there were times when I had to touch something questionable, I’d whip out the old Purell to take care of things afterwards.

My coworkers made fun of me. Mercilessly.

I always hated taking my young babies to the doctor’s office. I used to shudder when I watched them play with the toys, and then cram their fingers in their mouths. Or worse yet…the toys themselves. Ew. Just…ew.

It didn’t seem to bother anyone else.

When my girls were very little, I taught them how to cough into the crooks of their elbows. It just made sense.

No one seemed to notice.

I laugh a little to myself now, when I see posters in public bathrooms telling people how to properly wash their hands and turn off the faucets using papertowel. Hand sanitizer stations seem to be in every public place these days. Recently when I went to my doctor’s office, I saw that all the toys and books had been taken out of the waiting room. And so often now, when someone sees my girls coughing into their arms, they praise me up for teaching them so well.

My…how times have changed.

But hey, it’s good news for us germophobes. I never have to worry about running out of hand sanitizer ever again. heh.

Why, yes, my daughter *IS* fabulous, thanks for noticing.

I went to parent-teacher yesterday and sat down with Kiddo’s two teachers (they share teaching the class).

It was torture, I tell you, sitting there for twenty five minutes (the allotted time was 10) listening to how intelligent, articulate and confident my six year old is.

Noooooo……I’m not proud, why would you ask?

I had a lot of concerns how she would do in public school. The orginal plan my ex and I had was that we would homeschool our children. There is still a part of me that is sad that I don’t get to be with my girls all day every day anymore. But hearing all about how well she is adjusting, both socially and academically, really helped me to feel better about the direction that life has gone in. It’s good to have some of those fears alleviated.

Heck, one of the teachers even told me that after seeing how well Kiddo is doing, she’s thinking of doing some homeschooling with her own daughter!

Speaking of Kiddo, she’s been keeping me up to date on her love life. Apparently, the little boy that she is in love with, is in love with someone else. She’s sad, but not crushed, thankfully. She even told me about another little boy that she has her eye on already. Tonight she said to me (about the new boy) “Let’s just put it this way, Mommy: he’s a good man“.

Hm.  I guess I’ve been educating her in more ways that one…..

Fitting Together

I remember having a conversation with my ex husband when we were first splitting up. It was about how I wouldn’t be able to find anyone out there better than him.

*I* was the one who said that, by the way, not him.

I tried, not very successfully, to explain to him that for me, it wasn’t a matter of hoping for a future where I would find a partner better than him (because when things were good between us, they were very good), it was about finding someone who was a better fit for me. My ex and I reached the point where we were no longer what the other person wanted (or needed). He wanted me to be the same person I’d been all along, and for me, I knew that there were some big changes in store for me….directions that I needed to go in….things that I wanted.

And I became convinced that I couldn’t accomplish those things with him.

As I’ve written before, my ex was exactly what I needed for a long time. But as life went on and I began realizing things about myself and our marriage, I knew that I needed something different.

Could he have changed? Could the dynamic in our marriage have been altered? Possibly. But depression didn’t allow me to see that as an option at the time. And looking back now, knowing who my ex is (a person very resistant to change), I seriously doubt that, even with time and effort, that we could have changed things to the extent that they needed to be changed.

One of the (many) things I love about CBG and I is that we “fit”. He and I are so very similiar on so many basic levels. Sure, there are a lot of things on the surface that are different…but deep down, inside, we have the same heart. There are times when I look at him and know exactly what he’s feeling…because I am either feeling the same thing, or have in the past. As weird as it sounds, sometimes it feels as though we’re the same person….that is how deep our connection goes. The connection is on a deep emotional, instinctual level.

I am amazed at how CBG often knows exactly what I need…maybe without even fully realizing it himself. He gives me space when I need it. He supports me…without being a crutch. He lets me figure things out on my own. He adores me in a way that is JUST what I want…and in a way that I’ve never quite been adored before. CBG, and this relationship is exactly what I need, at a time in my life when I need it most.

I love how we fit together.

Happiness

I was thinking about happiness today, in particular the fact that no one else is responsible for my happiness but me. I can’t look to others to “make” me happy. Hell, I did that for nearly a decade and the only place that got me was at the bottom of a deep, dark hole despite being on antidepressants. Happiness is a choice.

I can choose to pursue happiness or not.

Well, it works the same with unhappiness, now doesn’t it? I have the power to allow someone to negatively affect me, or not.

For far too long, I have been giving my power away, allowing other people, people who are no longer even a part of my life, to affect me in negative ways. People who have made a series of choices to go down this particular path.

I may not be able to affect their choices…but you know what? I can make the decision whether or not to allow those people to negatively affect my life.

Today, I choose happiness.

I choose happiness, love and joy. I have no time for people who aren’t willing to see me for who I truly am, and support me in my quest.

I have many, many things to be happy and grateful for. Those are the things that will attract my attention, not the negativity that tries so hard to tug away at me.

And so, to The Universe, I offer up my deep and sincere thanks for all of the wonderful things (and particularly the people) that I have in my life right now. Life is richer and more fulfilling than I imagined it would be. 

Thank you.

Rough Night

Last night was rough…one of the toughest nights I’ve had in a while. My subconscious seemed to be working overtime. I had one of the worst nightmares that I’ve had in a while.

I dreamed that CBG died.

The worst part, though, was that I woke up for a few minutes, letting the impact of the dream sink in. As I dozed off again, the dream picked up where it left off.

I haven’t had that happen in years…I hate it when that happens.

I managed to wake myself up again and shake it off, this time for good. I wished desperately to be able to phone him, just to be able to hear his voice, but he’s having cell phone issues, and we’ve been cut off from each other for days now.

The lack of communication between us has been both good and bad. Bad…because…well, it’s been a rough week for me, and I haven’t been able to talk to him about any of it. Bad because I have a lot of fear about what he might be thinking and feeling during this time.

The good news is that this time apart, cut off from one another, has forced me to rely on myself. And guess what? I still can.

Still….I’ll be glad when his phone issues are resolved and things are back to normal again. I miss him. A lot.

NaBloPoMo

Two years ago I attempted the NanoWriMo thing, only to have it blow up in my face in a spectacular way.

Inspired by The Maven, I’ve decided to give NaBloPoMo a try. One blog post a day for the entire month. Hell, I do almost that anyhow, I don’t think this is going to be much of a stretch, really.

Why, yes, I *AM* a shameless attention whore. Thanks for noticing.

No More Excuses

This morning I hit my elliptical trainer for a quick 5 km, and then did a little yoga to loosen up. I am out of shape, my body is stiff and tight, and it’s time to do something about it. No more excuses.

I went to sleep last night thinking about how my life still isn’t what I want it to be. Some things I have no control over. When it comes to my relationship with CBG, all I can do is make the most of the time we have together, and sit back and see what The Universe hands to us. I can’t force my ex to see that we’re better off as allies in parenting. I can’t make my former friends see me for who I really am.These things I simply have to let go of.

But when it comes to things like my attitude and my health, well, those things are very much within my control.

And so, I take back control of those things. No excuses.

I’m tired of sitting back and waiting to see what life is going to send my way when it comes to everything. I simply don’t have to do that.

It’s time to get out there and kick some ass.