Do something good, no one sees it…Do something embarrassing, everyone sees it… unknown
We ladies have diet books, exercise books, self-esteem books and books on how to diagnose ourselves. But what about “real” women’s issues? You know, the stuff nobody writes about because they think it might lay bare the fact that these things happen. I’m referring, in part, to the embarrassing moments in our lives that we look back on and cringe. Well, we obviously know they exist because they continue to happen all the time, so why not talk about them? Maybe we can’t come up with solutions to keep them from happening, but we can sure enough learn how to make them work for us when they do.
I think the problem is that we just have too many hands in the cookie jar. It’s a part of our nature. Women are busy in ways that men just can’t understand – otherwise, they’d understand us. Men don’t talk until they have an answer. Women talk a problem through until they find the answer (most likely because we want to make sure it’s the RIGHT answer).
Men and women have different brain functions. Men have boxes that they put everything in, but men’s boxes don’t touch; they open one box at a time. Their boxes are linear, in a row, therefore they think that way. They even have a “nothing” box.
The University of Pennsylvania did a study a couple of years ago and discovered that men have the ability to think about absolutely nothing … and still breathe.
Women can’t do that. We have wires inside our brains and they all connect to each other like the internet superhighway. For instance, the “car-that’s-in-the-shop-BOX” directly correlates to, and presents a problem for, the woman who has to pick kids up from the “ball-practice-BOX”. To ensure those boxes don’t crash and burn (and a kid isn’t left to wonder where his ride is), Mom has to use both her linear and non-linear skills (while juggling about ten other things that have fallen out of boxes and are racing around the highway of her female life).
A man only sees the car box. His only worry is about the CAR in his box getting fixed. We see car boxes and baseball boxes swirling around each other and our job is to figure out how to connect the things in those boxes and bring the problem in for a safe landing. Our brains kick into gear, our hormones standby in case we need them, and we fix it. We fix it and position ourselves to stand in the gap between the near head-on collisions waiting for us next week.
We women have hormones that connect to the emotional parts of us that help us cope with the loose wires in our lives. But sometimes those emotions (fueled by hormones) only complicate things.
So, that’s my explanation for all the crazy things we sometimes do.
I’ve given this a lot of thought, and figured out some coping skills. Here are my findings using random true life examples:
DUDE, WHERE’S MY CAR?
(When we try to mess with wires that aren’t in our DNA)
Organizing ourselves out of common sense
Different people have different personalities. Some people are planners and organizers. Not me. I’m a people person, so sacrifice a few “necessaries” in order to be available for what I do best. So, it becomes a big problem when I attempt be organized in ways that don‘t come naturally to me. But I want to appear normal, so in order to conform to the norms, I finally took my car to the car wash.
The result: Now I can’t find it in the parking lot. I’m not used to it being clean and shiny, so don’t recognize it when I walk past it several times, consequently wasting valuable time. My unbathed car has “Here it is” written in the dust over the trunk. Not to mention that the birthday gifts I’ve been storing in my car for a year were missing when I finally had the birthday lunch I’ve been waiting for with my friend Debbie. I must have removed them when I CLEANED OUT THE CAR.
Realize that we need to learn to accept ourselves the way we are. I’m just not an overly organized person; working best in organized chaos. My car is just going to get dusty again so, what’s the point? It worked for Columbo and look at what a crime fighter he was. I like it clean, but just don’t have the time. So, I ordered some new seat covers and mats. That way I can be happy seeing a clean car each time I get inside. Organization is over-rated in my book.
THE SHOVEL, THE CAT AND THE NO-BRANIAC
(When the wires get tangled)
This was from several years ago, when, on top of every single thing I had to do…the cat had kittens. They were getting bigger, so I put them on the back screened-in porch. Some got missing, and my granddaughter said that she had seen a big animal in there. So, before going to work, I latched the screened door (which broke off in my hand). Later, before going to bed, I looked in to check on the kittens. It was dark because the light bulb was out.
Too tired to deal with burned out bulbs and broken latches, I turned to go back into the house. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the silhouette of what looked like a large cat that appeared to be dead! Chloe was right about animals getting through the screen! I groaned.
I found a yard stick and poked it. Thud. Yeah, it’s dead.
“Like I’ve got time for this!!” I said, throwing up my hands. So, I went to bed and decided to deal with it tomorrow, but tomorrow turned into three days. I worked two jobs at the time, and each day ran into the other. Finally, not able to put it off any longer, I stopped at Home Depot and bought a brand new shovel.
Home again and it was still twilight, providing some light where I could at least see shadows. I scooped the dead thing up, turning my head in case it smelled dead, and slowly headed towards the screened door to take it outside. As I stepped over boxes of kitty litter, balancing the shovel so as not to drop this dead animal on my floor (which means I would have to touch it), I noticed something. It’s head was sticking straight up.
“Rigor Mortis,” I thought. “I shouldn’t have waited so long.”
But then, I got to thinking that this thing should be heavier with dead weight.
And it didn’t smell.
So, I backed into the living room where there would be more light, thinking I’m going to see blood and worms, and discovered it was……A FAKE. It was a stuffed cat my granddaughter had gotten when she was a baby.
I screamed bloody murder and nobody heard me.
Upon taking one good look at it, I realized why she never took it home. It looks spooky and REAL.
I blamed it on hormones and lack of sleep. I kept that cat to remind me that we women need to make sure we get enough sleep, otherwise, our minds can play tricks on us. And if we’re going to let our life be a story, try not to create stories that make us look like blooming idiots.
ROAD (OVER) KILL
(When we take a break from the wires)
Embarrassed to be seen without your face on
Some of you gals are lucky enough to wake up looking like Christy Brinkley. I feel the need to wear make-up. I don’t do it for anyone but myself. I’m lost without it. I saw a sticker the other day that said,
“My make-up bag contains my face: handle with caution.”
The absolute worst thing that can happen, is to get pulled over after not have taken the time to apply your make up that morning. That actually happened a while back. While the officer was checking my license, I hurriedly put on my eyebrows and a little bit of lipstick (without looking in the mirror because I was simultaneously looking for my insurance card). I’m sure I looked like something from the Honey Boo Boo show when he returned to my window. I could see it on his face (trying not to laugh). Whiiiich…is probably why I just got a warning. I’m glad the face nature gave me is such a hoot.
Find something you can use for future reference. As I pulled back onto the road, thankful to only get a warning, I had a thought. This was a dry run. Maybe if I get pulled over again, I’ll have makeup on and I won’t be recognized! Double the trouble, double the fun!
(Disclaimer for future law enforcement applications, I am not in any way admitting guilt.)
So, in conclusion, we ladies may have our days but at least we have a plausible explanation for our craziness, and we know how to make it work for us.
We are going to embarrass ourselves, no doubt. We just need to find ways to laugh at those cringe-worthy moments, grow from them and become strong enough to dare anybody to bring it up again…
….without our permission.
Although these three are only a few out of a myriad of moments to choose from, I want to take a break from “personal” stories to explore those embarrassing moments where these unfortunate lapses extend themselves outside of the individual sphere…like when we embarrass our children, or they embarrass themselves. Coping skill for them is that at least they can blame in on genetics. Stay tuned for part two of Ladies Days…