Can men and women be just friends?

This is a question I've been thinking about for some time now, "Can men and women be just friends?" I asked my friends on Facebook this question last night. There doesn't seem to be any one right answer. Some said No, they can't, some feel that Yes, they can. But both seem to feel very strongly about their opinion. I keep thinking back to my friendships over the years. I have quite a few male friends, but the ones that I seem to be the closest to are the ones I have some sort of history with. Most of it is innocent history, boyfriends from high school but it's still history. Somehow it seems that the connection we shared then allows us to have a deeper connection now. Is this wrong? These boys from my youth are now men, some of them married, most of them have children. I've never been truly intimate with any of them. Is this what makes the difference? If I had ever been sexually involved with these friends, would we still be friends today?
But what about emotional intimacy? Since I have known these men since we were kids I'm able to talk to them on a deeper level. It's different then talking to my female friends. They give me a whole different perspective on things. Men and women see things so differently that it's nice to get an "inside" view on men. There's many times when a male friend has helped me work through a problem better than my female friends.
Another variable here is that my close male friends live in a different state. Would be still be able to maintain our "just friends" closeness if we lived closer to eachother? Is the physical distance what allows us to stay such good friends? I can't find any one right answer to this. It seems to all depend on the people involved and all the different variables.

Then and now.

One minute I'm a sophomore in high school, giggling with my friends and trying to figure out which boy to date. The next thing I know I'm married with three young children and having to make much more difficult choices. Where does all the time go?
It's been eleven years since I've seen most of my high school friends, yet thanks to Facebook I've managed to get back in touch with the majority of them. We have all changed in so many ways, moving to different states, getting married, raising children, you name it, one of us has probably done it. Yet through all these years and despite all of our differences we are still as close as we were then. In some ways, maybe closer. We're able to relate to eachother on deeper levels. We went from being boys and girls, to men and women.
I only hope that one day my children are able to find these same kind of friendships

Bus stop tears

There's a little girl at my daughter's bus stop that most of the other parents don't particulary care for. She's rude, bossy, and just a plain pain in the butt. The other kids kind of stay clear of her too. This morning when we got there though, she was crying. I asked her what was wrong and she said her step-mom tried to kill her. I thought she was exagerating the way seven year olds do and told her I doubted she was trying to kill her. She continued to cry so I asked her what happened. She was crying so hard I couldn't really understand her, then she said she just didn't want to talk about it. I took her aside so that the others couldn't hear and told her that sometimes you need to talk to other people so that they can help you. She said that she tells her dad but that he never does anything about it. Eventually I got her calmed down enough to get the gist of the story. Her and her step-mom had had a small argument over socks that morning, and the woman tackled her. She then went on to tell me that she does things like that to her all the time, and that she hits her. The bus was about to come so the best thing I could come up with was to hug her and suggest that she talk to the school counselor. After the kids all got on the bus, another mother and I were talking about what happened. Both of us recalled the step-mom telling us that she hated the child. I think it definatley explains the little girl's behavior most of the time. On the way home, I called the school and gave them as much information as I could about the child and what had happened. I also called children services. I was greatly disappointed in the reaction I got from cps. The woman seemed cold and unfeeling. She was only concerned with if there were any marks on the child. I told them it was cold so she was wearing a heavy coat, so it's not like I could actually see her body. They didn't seem to care at all about what the little girl had said, or to consider that there are many different forms of child abuse. I don't like to get trouble started or to get into a strangers business, but this little girl trusted me enough to tell her what happened, I wasn't going to just ignore it. I will also be checking back with the school to see if the counselor did talk to her or not. If a child ever tells you something like this, please don't "mind your own business." Make a call. You might just save a child's life.

How does the story end? (part 2)

I was 17 years old when my father deceided to touch my breast and tell me it was getting harder to think of me as just his daughter. I know there are many fathers who do worse stuff than that to their daughters, but for me that was devastating enough. All the years when I was younger that my uncle used to ask me if my father had ever touched me finally started to make sense. It wasn't too long after that that we moved out of state to be near my stepmother's family. For me that didn't last long. I went back to Ohio to live with my aunt that took care of me when I was little.
Long story short, life and who we become is made up of, and influenced by, so many different things. We are shaped by the things and people that happen in our lives. My mother was too young to have me. My father was too irresponsible to have me. There's no doubt that I love my parents, even if I don't always understand them. But I always end up dwelling on the things that have happend in life. They both had hard childhoods, which shaped who they became, and in turn shaped who I would become. The lack of attention from my mother is in part what I think made it harder for me to relate to my daughter the way I should when she was born. The being bounced around between family members, and all the attention they lavished on me to make up for my parents lack of interest in me, made me to where I didn't like to be alone. And I tried too hard to fit in and be what I thought other people wanted me to be. And whether I like it or not, my father was lazy and I ended up marrying a man who is also lazy.
None of these are excuses, they are just examples of our lives shaping us. But it doesn't have to be a bad thing. We can take the unpleasant things that have happend and turn them into life lessons and things to avoid. I try to do better with my children then my parents did with me. On some things I've succeeded and on others I've failded miserably. But I'm trying to realize these things now while my kids are little and to remember that it's never too late to change.

I just wish my life would change!

"I just wish my life would change!" is a phrase I've been hearing a lot lately, spoken from my seven year old daughter. This is a phrase no child should ever have to utter. Even though it's her father she feels this way towards, in the end it's my fault. As her mother it's my job to see that she never feels that way, and I've failed. I've allowed my own fears and insecurities to crowd out the needs of my child. As a mother, I feel like a complete failure. The saddest part is that I know one day she's going to want to know why I allowed things to continue for so long and I don't have a good reason to give her. He's not physically abusive, the damage he does is verbal and emotional. In the end maybe thats even worse. He doesn't enrich our lives in any way yet I've kept him around. I was researching earlier the effects of verbal abuse on young girls and felt devestated. If I don't do something soon, she's going to grow into an insecure woman who thinks it's normal and there for ok, to be treated like crap by men. I wrote before about breaking the cycle but I need to take my own advice. My children are better than that!

How does the story end?

I came into this world on a cold winter day in 1983, from what I've been told the first thing my mother had to say was "If it's a girl I don't want it." She was 18 and my father was 28. It wasn't exactly a match made in Heaven. Mom had had another baby two years earlier, a boy, which she gave up for adoption. My father also had a son from a previous relationship that he had next to nothing to do with. I think my mother was trying to escape her old life and looking for her happily ever after. She picked the wrong man for that.
It wasn't long before my mother had to go to work as a dancer since my father wasn't exactly keen on the idea of working. Unfortunitly, he wasn't very useful when it came to caring for me either. Most of the time I was left in the care of my 11 year old aunt. Luckily for me she was wise beyond her years. Without her I don't know what would have become of me.
I don't have too many memories of my parents when I was little. When I wasn't with my aunt I was bounced around between other family members. Stability wasn't something I was familar with. I remember calling my aunt Mommy instead of calling my mother that.
Eventually when I was 8 I went to live with my dad's brother and his wife. We didn't exactly get along. My uncle had the habit of talking bad about my parents and even though most of it was probably true, I still defended them. During this time my mother, who had given birth to another boy, barely had anything to do with me and my father moved to Arizona with his girlfriend. The month after I turned 11 I flew out there to live with them, thus beginning another chapter of my life.
At first everything was great. I was thrilled to finally be living with my father. It wasn't long though till his girlfriend became very cruel to me. She slept all day when she was suposed to be caring for me, yelled at me, told me I was going to turn out just like my mother. And my dad never defended me. It didn't take long before I despised her. Unfortunitly, being so far away from my family, she was the only mother figure I had. So despite my hatred for her I also loved her and wanted her love in return. Eventually right before I started the 6th grade they finally split up.
It seems like it didn't take too long before he started a relationship with another woman who later became my stepmother. She had a young son who was 5 years old. I adored them both. It was the family I had always wanted. We had actual homecooked meals together sitting at the table like a family should. She would fix my hair and help me with my homework, all the things I had been yearning for a mother to do. And my new brother was a joy. I didn't even mind when he wanted to hang out with me and my friends. He was a great kid. Eventualy my "parents" had a baby together, the most beautiful little girl I had ever seen. She was such a good, easy baby. Other than the normal teenage problems, life seemed to be wonderful. Until the day came that my father changed all that.

To be continued...

Like father, like husband

I've been noticing lately that no matter how hard we try to fight against it, the men we choose to have relationships with, are in at least some way, reminders of our fathers. This can be either a good thing or a bad one. If your father was a kind, loving, hard working man, and you choose a spouse who has those same qualities, then you're probably ok. On the other hand, if your father was prone to not working, being decittful, or abusive in some way and your spouse acts the same way, then you're continuing the cycle. It seems like we naturally gravitate towards what we know, even if it's not good, it's our comfort zone.
Unfortunitly, it's not just our own lives this affects. Our children also suffer from this cycle. If we don't do anything to change the circumstances of our lives then our children learn the same things we did. Change is scary but it's also a nessesary part of life. If you want a better life for your kids, then break the cycle. Don't condem your children to the same life that you've been so unhappy with. Give them a chance at a happier more productive future.

Happily ever after?

Does happily ever after really exist or is it just an illusion that fairy tales fills little girls' heads with? When we're little we're told "innocent" stories of beautiful princesses waiting for their prince charmings to come and resue them. They're filled with pretty dresses, catchy songs, evil villians and handsome princes, but they give little girls the wrong idea about life and about love in general. These bedtime stories we tell our daughters give them the impression that to be important and to be happy they have to wait for a man to save them. I know that these are just stories but do they all have to be the same? Can't there be a few stories about smart, funny, strong girls that work hard and make their own lives meaningful? Then later when they know who they are and what they want they meet a kind, caring, hard working man and work together as a team to build a life. Young girls need to know that there are other kinds of happily ever after besides just sitting around and waiting to be resued.

A Superhero Birthday Party

               Red and blue streamer hung from the ceiling in sweeping arches, fluttering softly with the opening and closing of the front door. Green, red, yellow, blue and orange balloons also dangled in bunches from the ceiling. Dozens more balloons danced across the floor with every step that was taken. Everywhere you looked there were superhero decorations; Spiderman, Ironman, and Transformers. A three year old boys’ dream birthday party.

                In the middle of the blue tablecloth covered table was the main attraction, a blue cake with Batman riding a motorcycle that my son had happily picked out himself. The rest of the table and countertops were filled with food. Chips with a homemade cheese and salsa dip my husband had made. Football shaped chocolate chip cookies. A tray full of colorful veggies and dip that all the kids greedily devoured. Candy in Spiderman wrapping. And on the stove came the aroma of fresh baked peperoni pizzas.

                Eight giggling, screeching children ran amok in our two bedroom apartment, obviously having a blast. Balloons flew through the air and noisemakers blew. Even the baby was in on the madness, crawling and laughing after the bigger kids.

                When it was time for the presents to be opened, all the kids gathered around the birthday boy and his pile of gifts. Three adults were ready with camera phones to capture every smile over each new treasure. The messiest yet possibly the most fun new toy, was the Spiderman Web Shooter. Adults and children both squealed and laughed as they were sprayed with blue silly string. There was blue “web” hanging from the streamer, covering the tables and toys, and dangling from pony tails. After the new toys were played with came a game of pin the tail on the donkey. Dizzy, blindfolded kids tried to put a sticker tail on a donkey taped to the door. They had so much fun that even when the winner was announced, they continued to play.

                Next, came a rousing chorus of “Happy Birthday” as the guest of honor blew out the flame on the number three candle standing next to Batman. Staying with the superhero theme of the party, was Superman ice-cream.

                At the end of the day popped balloons were on the floor, the streamer sagged, the trash can was overflowing of superhero plates and napkins, and Ironman wrapping paper lay bunched on the floor. The veggies and pizza were devoured, the juice spills cleaned up. My house was a mess, I was exhausted, and my son was blissfully happy. Hunter’s third birthday party was deemed a success!

               

LeapFrog Learn & Groove Musical Table

When my oldest daughter, who is now seven, was a baby she got the LeapFrog Learn & Groove Musical Table as a present. It's an awesome toy! Other than just playing music, it also teaches colors, counting and ABCs. The legs pop off so that a baby who is just learning to sit up alone can play with it, or put the legs back on and they practice learning to stand up. It has a volume control on the bottom which I love and the batteries don't seem to wear down quickly. This toy is so durable that it was passed on to my younger cousin, then on to my three year old son and 11 month old daughter. It's made it's way all through our family and held up wonderfully. My seven year old and her friends still love this toy. It is definatly worth the money!