Great Expectations (or Whatever)

Lately I have been thinking alot about the expectations that we put on the people and the realtionships that we have in our lives. The titles that people hold, by their placement in the family, or society, and how that relates to us, and what that means to us. For example, what does the title "mother in law" mean? What does that bring to your mind? Is it negative or positive? How about "grandmother"? Or "neighbor"? I have to say that I have a very unususal family. I am the only person I know with a half sister, an adopted half sister, and an adopted half brother who is also my step nephew! All of these connections are legal, and moral. My kids have "uncles" who are not related, who are more like pawpaws, and aunts that act like grandmothers. They have Grandmothers and Great Grandmothers limited by health and distance. I learned a long time ago that the labels just don't matter that much when people love your children. I also learned that accepting the limits of the people you love does not mean that you will stop wishing that they COULD meet your expectations, even when your common sense tells you that this is unrealistic.
So, expectations. Where do they come from? I don't think I expect "Leave It To Beaver" (a recent accusation, can you imagine the nerve!) or a soap opera romance. I read alot, and I'll admit, I would like some of the written relationship behaviors in my life. I also know that as a sane person, that's just not going to happen. The odds of my husband baring his heart and soul to me in a poem or sweeping me off to a private island are pretty low. I know this. I do have lesser expectations. So when I am disappointed that he does not do these things, who is wrong? Him for not meeting my expectations, or me for having them? Does it matter? Is anybody wrong? And this is not just my husband, this is people in general. Are we wrong to have expectations about people? And if your expectations are evidently too high, whose problem is it? ARGGGHHH!!

If You See Yourself, Don't Call Me.

I recently had a surgery that had me on house arrest for a while. That is when I decided to put into action my long held idea of starting a blog. There is alot of crap in my head, and frankly, I need to make some room. Some of it needs out! Anyway, I started this blog thinking about all the things I knew something about. I am the kind of person who enjoys knowing a little bit about lots of things. Handy if I ever get invited to an actual dinner party, otherwise, just waiting for a Trivial Pursuit game. I wrote my blog intro and then came to a screeching halt. Not because of the lack of things to write about, but because of a slight fear of hurting the feelings of people I know. I can't write without being honest about things, and I am afraid that my honesty might sting a little at some point in the future. So I have decided to issue a future blanket apology now. I am sorry if anything I write hurts your feelings in the future. I do not intend to hurt anyone's feelings, or offend or embarass anyone. The key word here is intend. I would like to think I won't, but you just never know. So in order for me to be able to move ahead with this blog, please accept my advance apology. Thank you, and good night. (said in my best newsman voice.)

My title explanation.

I have a blog.Ithought a good place to start would be in explaining why I named my bright new shiny blog what I did. And I will be honest, the idea came from a book, but it grew into something a little different in my mind. Remember seeing all the old variety shows from the 40's and 50' and maybe even the 60's that had acts that entertained, people did tricks with animals or ate fire? This was before Mind Freaks and Cirque Du Soleil. My particular favorite was the guy who spun plates on all the different sticks. He would get all these sticks and plates going at different speeds and different times at different heights, rarely dropping any. Well, that is my life and I think most women's lives. We all have plates we are spinning, jobs, marriages, homes, pets, kids, bills. You name it we are spinning it. Only here is the difference, when the "professional" was doing it, I'll bet you he was using equally balanced, unchipped, perfect plates, which anyone knows would spin better right? We are stuck with our imperfect husbands, our completely cracked (and cracking us up) kids, bill plates that never seem to balance out equally, and the list goes on. Some of the plates you know are temporary so you just give them a fling to keep them going when you think about it. And some you realize how important they are just when they are about to topple and you manage to get it back in line. So sometimes a plate hits the floor. OOPS! We just make sure it was not one of the irreplacable ones and keep on going. Like hoping it was the "soccer uniform for the game that might get rained out anyway" plastic Dora plate, and not the "Mom yesterday was the last day-for-real-this-time for camp registration" plate. And that, my friends, is Spinning Cracked Plates.