Deadline Diaries

Five Romance writers tell all.

Friday, September 22, 2006

On Letting Go and Lip Gloss

I’m learning to let go. There are just some things in life we have no control over and after years of banging my head on walls (cue the Head-On medicine commercial that annoyingly chimes, “apply directly where it hurts, apply directly where it hurts”) I’m a changed woman. Now I’m moving my forehead away from hard surfaces, opening my clenched fists, and releasing myself from the expectation I can “fix” or “adjust” or out-and-out change some matters.

Here’s where I’ve started:

I accept that Surfer Guy is never going to wipe down the bread board after making sandwiches. So rather than getting annoyed or upset, I am wiping it down myself. After all, he is making lunch for himself and the two boys, leaving me responsibility-free in the mornings except for ironing shirts, reading the newspaper, sipping the coffee that Surfer Guy made for me. So now after they all leave the house, I hum as I pick up the sponge.

I accept that son #2’s hair is his and his alone. That’s him, on the wakeboard in the photo (see—letting go!). He has beautiful, Shirley Temple-esque blond ringlets when he lets it grow. But after being mistaken for a girl one too many times (says I, he claims it’s too hard to surf, play basketball, skateboard, etc. with the long locks) he now regularly gets out the clippers and has Surfer Guy go to town.

I accept that I’m never going to lose my lust for potato chips, that I’m never going to rather go running than stay home reading, and that when I look at fashion magazines I will always believe that a new brand of mascara or that lip-plumping gloss will take off ten pounds, ten years, and add six inches to my height.

Now it’s your turn to play! Is there something in your life that you’ve learned to accept?


At 8:57 AM, Blogger Maureen Child said...

Ah, Christie, I've learned to accept that I'm never going to fit back into this cute little dress I've been hanging onto for ten years. And that DH will always say No before saying Yes to anything. Acceptance isn't always a bad thing, is it??

At 9:41 AM, Blogger Susan Mallery said...

I've accepted that the first word people use to describe me will never be "nice." ::sigh:: I want it to be nice. I want to be one of those perfectly wonderful people you meet and say "Wow, she's just so nice."

But no. I get words like funny, smart, sarcastic, intimidating. Don't understand the last one. I'm basically a total wimp at heart, but I think the tall-highly verbal thing can be off-putting.

I've accepted that the DH will never want to watch Gilmore Girls with me, no matter how many times I tell him it's funny and well written.

I've accept that Callie, my 14 year old girl cat, will never, ever accept Nikki, possibly the world's cutest dog, despite the fact that Callie (who is just a tiny bit pear shaped) is exactly double the size of the dog.

At 10:58 AM, Blogger Christine Rimmer said...

I accept that *my* dh is never going to accept that *I'll* always say no before saying yes... *g*

I accept that just when I get happy with my flared jeans, they tell me it's back to stovepipes and leggings. And big, slouchy Flashdance sweaters...

I accept that I can't run the world--however, I refuse to stop trying.

At 12:10 PM, Blogger Maureen Child said...

Ooh, ooh! Susan, that was a good one! I want to be thought of as nice, too. Instead of "tall and scary" as one friend put it recently.

And Chris....I'm never giving up my bootcuts!! straightleg jeans were never attractive!

At 1:40 PM, Blogger Christie Ridgway said...

Okay, as a girl who just came home from jean shopping...

I did get some straight leg ones. I'm not tall! The flared ones can make my legs look so short. So I got these hip hugger (but not too tiny a zipper) ones and also bought some dark brown suede wedge-heeled boots. See, then I can elongate the whole leg thing. You tall girls can do the flares and there are still plenty of them out there.

But I'm not sure I can do leggings. I see them in the magazines and they're adorable, but I just don't see them on me...again.

We're going to a high school football game tonight (hence the new jeans and boots) and it's actually a bit chilly here today. Real fall weather!

And Susan and Maureen, for the record, you guys =are= nice.

Christie, who unfortunately is usually described as "perky" or something annoying like that

At 2:35 PM, Blogger Christine Rimmer said...

Christie, jean shopping. See, I need to go. But this weekend I'll be hangin' at the homestead with my 400 page line edit. Oh, the joy.

And yes, maybe that's the thing about leggings. The whole...again issue. Saw the Fabulous Baker Boys *again* a while back. I know everyone only remembers that incredible red dress Michelle Pfieffer wore in the scene where she sang Makin' Whoopee while crawling all over a grand piano. But at one point, she did wear leggings and a big shirt. See, if I looked like Michelle, I'd even go back to leggings and a big shirt.

And oh, those high school football games. Good to know you've got something new to wear to one.

Nice? Perky? Hmmm. I don't know *what* people call me. I'm thinking it's probably for the best.

At 2:43 PM, Blogger Kate Carlisle said...

Christie, I feel your pain with being called "perky." LOL

I'm not sure if I've learned to accept it or not, but I'm pretty sure I'll never be a size 6 again. Maybe an 8? *g*

I've definitely learned to accept that my husband and all four of my brothers are better cooks than I am.

I haven't yet learned to accept that little plastic cards don't equal $$$$.

I've learned to accept that I'm not as tall as Maureen or Susan. Or Christine. Or Christie. Hey, wait a minute. I can't accept that one, after all!


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