Learning can suck (from 1/4/07)

Sometimes we learn lessons easily; sometimes it takes pain – either physically or emotionally. Learning lessons takes place on so many levels.

I have read some fantastic blogs in the last couple of days. People pouring their hearts out about lessons they've learned, generally the hard way. I thought I'd wander with them into what I've learned. Well, OK, I'm only naming 3. Because I'm like that and I'm freaking hungry.

Lesson #1: Sperm donation does not make a father.

I've blogged a little bit about the extremely strained relationship between my father and me. I would give anything to change it, but there is only so much giving one person can do before they let go and allow whatever happens to happen. The first time I knew something was different about my father, I was about 8 or 9 years old. Here was a man who lived in California while we lived in Wisconsin. He called me twice a year – on my birthday and on Christmas. That was it. He sent presents for these occasions as well, always inappropriate and often riddled with errors. On my 9^th birthday, for example, he sent me a book about horses. Smart, because I was very interested in horses. His major fuck-up? The "Happy 11^th Birthday" inscription he wrote to me inside. I remember not being happy that he sent me a present, but irritated that he didn't know how old his daughter was. It's not like he had me confused with my sister – she was turning 12 that year. I laughed and said something like "he is so stupid!" It wasn't until I was alone in my room that I cried – for hours – because my own father didn't know how old I was. He was never there, and the couple of summers that he tried just wasn't enough because his trying ended when his girlfriend and he broke up. I know today it was all her doing, I really do. I thank her for that. I thank my Mom for allowing me to learn that lesson, even though it broke her heart, because she knew it would break mine.

Which leads me to Lesson #2: Sometimes those you love need to make their own mistakes

As a parent, sometimes you have to unshield your kids from the pain and hurt to allow them to discover their own path, form their own decisions based solely on their own experiences and not your experiences. This one was reiterated Monday night with my 3-year-old. We've struggled with him as he walks up to the stove and says "is this hot?" I've said countless times not to touch the stove. When it's not hot, I've told him "it's not hot now, but you never know when it might be, so you should never touch it." He's not allowed near the stove when we are cooking. Last night, after supper was eaten and the dishes were done, he didn't ask if the stove was hot, he just touched it – and burned his hand. I was heart broken and hurt and felt like a failure as a mother because I didn't prevent this from happening. I would never have wished this type of lesson on him. I tried to do everything possible to ensure that it would never happen, and yet it did. Hopefully, he'll never touch the stove again. Maybe some day, I'll feel I can cook on the front burners again. It was a lesson for both of us, one we both learned the hard way.

Lesson #3: People come in here to talk raunchy & share lots of personal information that some of their real life friends maybe don't know. And dammit, it's fun!

I used to try and write things that had substance – more than "Let's all fuck until we can't anymore". I'd throw in a double entendre or make innuendos, use sex as a joke or jumping off point. Or just as an example. And people would pick that one instance out and totally negate the rest of the blog's contents. And it would bother me, so I stopped writing the more normal, run of the mill blogs and concentrated on generating conversation about all things sexual. Because I thought that's what people wanted to read, and isn't part of the fun of blogging having someone read it and comment on it? Sure, that's a fun part of it, but it most certainly isn't all of it. Blogging is like sex. Sometimes, I like to be spanked & rode hard while other times I would like it slow & steady with lots of cuddling. It's constantly changing, rarely the same thing twice, and I don't give a shit if it's good for you, as long as it was good for me. Yep, just like sex. So get used to reading more non-sexual things. And hey, if you don't want to read it, don't. I'll miss your comments and such because to me, the best part of a blog are the conversations that result from it in the comments section. But hey, I realize not everyone wants to read another "this is my life" blog. And if you're not interested in mine - fuck you. SMOOCHES!