Tag Archives: women

The seed is planted…

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I did it.  I found an office.  I planted a seed and signed a lease!  My new business, my art and play therapy practice, will be opening in October!  This is huge, and as someone who has no trust fund, forgot to marry a sugar daddy, and has traditionally made so little money each year the IRS actually laughs at me, I am creating my own kind of grant.  The number of available grants has really not significantly increased since about 1990.  To start a small business, as a woman, a mother, a person who fantasizes about a good night sleep and a planet where people can listen to their children instead of being constantly annoyed by them, is a giant leap of faith.  

And that’s what I’m doing!  

Like my labrador used to do as a pup (before she was a senior) I am going to run toward that lake and jump off into the water, not even worried that I could sink.  I’m not going to.  I’m going to swim.  

And I could totally use some help.  

So, I am swallowing the very small amount of pride I actually have, and asking for help.  Please consider reading my story, and if you enjoy it, or want to share it, I would SOOOOO appreciate it.  I also have a Facebook page called Big Dog Little Dog Art Therapy and if you like it, you will hear all about my business progress!  

Thank you in advance.  The first ten people to donate $100 will get art!  How about them apples?  

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Stock My beer Fridge! The Grandkids Are Coming!

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I know.  It’s been a really long while for me… I love to write, but all of my efforts have been going into 10 page papers on The Psychology of Personality.  I have a lot to do in the next four weeks.  EEEK!  So, I figured I’d write another blog.  Good use of my time!

I want to tell you that graduate school is mighty expensive.  I could buy a house (granted, a small house.  in Nebraska.  with redneck neighbors.) with the loans I am getting for the honor of studying myself silly (and I can’t wait, because I’m dorky like that).  I have been researching grants and scholarships and black market organ sales, but it looks like my most reliable source of tuition payment will be the fed.  And I will pay them back because no one likes to bail out a mom.  A bank?  A car company?  Well, sure!  A mom?  Nah.  Still, all that matters is that I get to go.

My mom had a suggestion for me to drum up some tuition money.  She said, “Why don’t you sleep with your brother-in-law, he can afford it.”

Um.  What?

I think that A) my husband may not appreciate that, B) my sister may not appreciate that, and C) EW!  (no offense to my bro-in-law; he’s great, but I couldn’t do that with anyone for money.  for beer?  okay, not even for beer)

Who does that?  I mean, obviously Charlie Sheen’s goddesses would, but me?  I taught an Ethics class last year, and from what I learned in teaching that, it somehow seems wrong.

My mother-in-law (who is very concerned that my selfish desires to attend school will stress my husband out too much) said that she has a friend enrolling in the same program that I will be attending (art therapy, not goddess school).   I asked what her name was.  “Well, I really shouldn’t tell you.”

Ooooohhhhkkkkaaayyyyyy.

“Why not?” I inquired.

“Because we both feel that if the universe wants you to meet, you will.”

Blergh.  That was the sound of me I gagging on my own vomit.

“Well, how old is she (we’re thinking she must be older than I am, and I was the oldest one at the group interview)?” my husband dared to ask.

“I just don’t think I should share that with you.”

Um, what the fuck?  Is she in the witness protection program?  Is she a famous supermodel?  Is she the man who you are having an affair with, disguised as a woman?  Why is this such a big deal?

I can not answer these questions, but I want the world to see the role models I have in my family for aging as a woman.  I need some sane women.  I need some rational women.  My daughter needs a gramma who actually shows up when she says she will and when she does randomly appear, does not get in her face and ask her a billion questions.

Just play with the kid.  Put away the damn bowls and get silly.

When and if I get to be a gramma someday, I vow to do a few things:

I will love my grandchildren with the unconditional capacity of a puppy (but hopefully not pee on them when they come to the door).

I will tell them how proud they make me and remind them of their awesomeness.

I will bake them sugary, fattening treats, with flaxseed and cauliflower hidden inside.  And make them spinach smoothies.

I will watch all the teen drama movies with them, because I secretly LOVE them.

I will have sleepovers.

I will make s’mores.

I will show up.

I will gladly return them when I am exhausted, because I’ll be old and in need of a good nap.

When they’re older, I will have a beer fridge (and if they’re good, I’ll share).

It’ll be fun to be a good role model.  I just wish there were more of them in my family.  I have found them elsewhere though, and those women keep me hopeful that life does not become some wallow-ing self-absorbed pity-party that no one wants to attend.  Thank you, my funny, awesome, witty, smart, beautiful role models.  Even if you aren’t in my gene pool, I love that you are in my life.