I don't need to be first wife

I DON'T NEED TO BE FIRST WIFE

I know many women who vehemently oppose the idea of sharing their husbands in eternity (as my religion believes will happen.)

But I have never felt like I need to be First Wife.

In the first place, your time would never be your own.  Your wants and needs would be swallowed up in seeking the happiness of Mr. Husband (or Brother Husband as I plan to call him).

You would be able to procreate and nurture generations of children but still have the freedom to take long walks by yourself and dream and design worlds, etc.  You could develop talents and gain knowledge ferociously in all your spare time.  And take naps!

First Wife would have to at least coordinate all the meals, don't you think?  (If she doesn't do most of the cooking which I personally believe she should do.)  I would happily do the clean up along with other wives who hate to cook like me.

Maybe I could also have the job of "Fabulous Party Planner" but not have to actually attend said parties which is how I like to operate.  "You guys go ahead and party.  I'll just be downstairs reading!  Have fun!  Yes, I did an awesome job blending theme and colors and treats and games!  Thank you!"

I wouldn't mind if Brother Husband sits always with First Wife, his number one choice or gazes at her with unquenchable love.  That's how it should be.  I'm not jealous.  I've honestly always known I’m not First Wife material.

BUT, when he IS with me, he has to think I am funny and beautiful and make me laugh.  He has to be a truth-seeker.  AND he has to like to cuddle.

But I don't have to be Main Love.  Nope.  Just loved for me once in awhile, just for the every other Thursday afternoon or whatever when he is mine.

What more could a woman ask?

ONE TIME I FELT REALLY PRETTY

I have always wanted to be prettier.  I won't bore you with some of the crazy things I tried (as a young woman and last week) in an effort to look prettier, but let's just say I usually ended up disappointed and frustrated.

AND I never went to the prom!  Nope, not once! 

I hoped to go and would daydream about it but I was never invited.  I don't know why.  Maybe because I was too shy to make eye contact with anyone in high school and tried to be invisible. 

                                                                                                            

My adored big sister Debbi went to all the proms and I loved to watch her get ready.  She usually made her own formals.  And oh, how pretty she looked with her big green eyes, her hair curled on top of her head, wearing long white gloves and floating in Wind Song (the perfume of my era).  Her date (usually Cliff whom she ended up marrying) gazed at her with admiration.  I was very proud of her.

No one guessed it, but inside I was a 100% girlie-girl.  And I wanted to go to the dance.

But I never got asked.  And going to the prom was something that girls in my "60-70s" generation were not supposed to care about, especially if they wore baggy levis, fringe jackets, beads and had hair down to here. 

But it all turned out okay because last year…at the ripe age of 60 …I felt really pretty one day!

My niece, Nikki Jo, had an "Oscar's" party and invited me.  It was "black tie"!  How fun is that?  So I borrowed my friend Elaina's black velvet formal with a slit on the side, sheer sleeves and some bling on the front bodice, got out my sparkly fake diamond earrings, black heels, etc. and got ready to look fancy.

It was a great party!  Nikki had decorated her house very Hollywood-y and she had pictures of film stars and dangly glittery stars, everything black and gold.  She also had a "Hair and Make-Up Booth" in one corner with various assortments of make-up and accessories and my niece Linsey (Nikki's sister) was working it.  When we got there I climbed up on the stool and said "Oh, Linsey, can you make me pretty?"

Well, you have to know Linsey and what a KINDHEART she is; how creative and focused she is, how sweet and willing to do anything asked of her.  She really really wanted me to feel pretty.  So, she spent LOTS of time on me, used lots of different brushes and make-up palettes.  She would apply a little make-up and then step back like an artist reviewing her canvas.  I felt quite pampered.  But I knew that when she finished and I looked in the mirror I would still see the same old, tired me with the "not quite pretty" look.

But, surprise!  She was had magic in her wand and she made me really pretty for one night.  See?

And that was all I needed.  Now I can go back to being Cinderelly pre Fairy Godmother.

I don't know how to crop pictures in a blog :(

HER OWN MIND

Sometimes a mom has to have her eyes opened to her own small-mindedness by her daughter.  Sometimes she cannot see her own prejudice until the light of her life holds it up to her.  

This has happened to me since Natalie could talk.  Usually she is gentle about it, (although notsomuch when she was a teenager).

I don't always like it because I am the mom and I don't want any come-uppins by a child who would not be here but for me (she's 42 now). 

For example, today, in a light-hearted, silly mood I said to Natalie, "Honey, I don't get Bruce Jenner."

Nat:  "You don't get him?"

Me:  "Yes.  Why does he want to dress up like a woman?  It confuses me."

Nat:  "YOU'RE confused?  I think he is confused, Mom."

Me:  (Back-pedaling and mumbling, twirling my hair and biting my lip ) "Oh, I'm sure, I'm sure.  It can't be easy." 

Nat:  "I read an article on transgender personalities and it really opened my eyes to how difficult it is to be transgender.  They have a very high suicide rate."

Me:    "Oh, I'm sure!  I'm sure they didn't wake up one day and decide to be someone that people make fun of." (Yikes.)

Nat: (Sweetly) "Umhummm.  It's very hard for them."

And I hadn't thought of any of this...just that they might be good for a laugh.

I need to point out here that my daughter is one of the least self-righteous people I have ever known.  And she loves me unconditionally.  She would take a bullet for me, I know it.  She's not trying to make me feel uncomfortable.  She's not even trying to change me.  She's just being true.

I like that she tries to understand people's differences rather than judge them.  I'm so glad she's liberal and open-minded and honest and real.  I don't want a Molly Mormon for a daughter.  I just want Natalie, whoever she really is.  Not perfect but usually sensitive and deep and kind and thoughtful.

She's always been her own person.  I've been told she takes after me.  I hope that is true.