Unexpectedness in the Normal

I was watching Parenthood tonight. I typically have an emotional crying moment at one point in each episode. For some reason, I just love that show; the families, the real fighting, the frustration, and even the funny happy moments. Anyway, it dawned on me tonight how much I identify with the single mother on that show (Sarah). She's funny, has made mistakes, fights tooth-and-nail for her kids, and has fears and dreams like I do. I am not a carbon copy of her by any means. However, 20 years ago, if you'd have told me that I'd identify with the single moms in TV shows, what would I have thought?

"How sad!"
"Did my husband die?"
"I have kids?"
"I don't believe in divorce. What are you talking about?"

Yeah, that was me. I didn't really have a mapped out life like some people, but I knew I was heading for a good career, probably in a big city, and I wanted adventure. I wanted to meet people, travel, and learn about different cultures. What the hell did I know? I was kind of an idiot. Completely sheltered. Unaware of crude jokes. No knowledge of boys, men, or boyz-to-men. Not much knowledge of what it took to raise a kid. Pretty unfamiliar with taking care of a house.

I love, love, love my kids. Unquestionably. I just never expected to be in this position of being a single mom. I never expected that my marriage wouldn't last. I never expected to identify with characters like Sarah Braverman, Lorelai Gilmore, Kate and Allie, Alice...and the list goes on. There is heartache in this place, but there's also sweetness. There's hardship and worry and a lack of self-esteem. There's also self-confidence, grace, and forgiveness. There's jealousy, sometimes, over other people's seemingly working relationships. There's also no-holds-barred glee, sometimes, that I get the remote. There's scary decisions to make by myself. There's no one to run these by, so there's a reliance on prayer.

I wonder, sometimes, what I would be like if none of this had happened. But I don't think about it long. I think about what an innocent I was 20 years ago.

Princesses

I went to Disneyworld for four days this past week. What I realized while I was there is that girls desperately, desperately want to be princesses. We love the ornate ball gowns. We love the hair updos or braids or flowing waviness, whatever fits the occasion. We love the jewelry: diamonds, sapphires, emeralds, amethysts, or pearls. Sadly, we also want the hourglass shape, the clear skin, the pouty lips, the gorgeous eyes. We love the idea that is espoused by Mr. Disney, that there is a prince out there for us and he will recognize our special-ness because he, too, is just that special. We want to feel valued, we want to feel taken care of, we want to be told that it's all about us.

And it's just not real. It's just not going to happen. We might like mani-pedis, pretty dresses, an ab-crunched stomach, but it's fleeting. We still have hangnails, we still have to shave our legs, and we still get poochy stomachs after having babies (well, most of us, anyway). We cannot rely on a man to make us feel valued. We can't have it be all about us or we will suck as mothers.

What can we have? We can be loved. We can give love. We can know that our special-ness doesn't come from without, but from within. It's not easy to remember.

I still sometimes want to be a Disney Princess with little rabbits and birds frolicking around me.