Let me tell you what I endured today.
1. Somehow I got caught up in a marathon of "Dance Moms" on Lifetime. I danced as a child. I competed in various things. It was always a supportive environment. Sure there were expectations that we do well, but never pressure. Coaches didn't openly fight with parents. There were no shouting matches. There were no crying children. Last, there were no injured children being required to continue performing. On Dance Moms, one child has a hurt hip and the camera crew filmed a doctor saying, "You are in no shape to compete this weekend." Mom says, "We have too." Don't you love the use of the word "we" there? Ya know, cause Mom is up there in pain against her will. Did I mention the child mentions not wanting to dance many times in the episode? Then Mom says something like, "Brooke is a dancer, and dancers get injured. Being in pain is just part of it." Her dance coach says it's just her hip flexors grinding and she should just live with the pain until that process is complete. I know this is extreme, but CPS needs to be called in. I would never, ever, ever, ever, ever push my child to perform in pain when a doctor says not too. EVER. I know competitive dance is extremely expensive and there is so much put into success. None of that is worth my child's health. Period. This show combined with Toddlers in Tiaras sicken me. It's like watching a car wreck. I can't seem to look away, but they disgust me. How could these parents capitalize on their children's talents to profit by being on the shows. And how unethical of the production companies to pump them out. Shame, shame, shame.
2. I'm having a private Twlight film festival. My family is off visiting in-laws for the night and I'm all alone. I'm just waiting in anticipation for Jacob to take off his shirt. And that, my friends, makes me a dirty old woman because I'm in my late thirties and he's an infant. Bella and Edward are currently at the prom and this scene makes me miss the intensity of youth. When you're a married adult with children, life can really dial down the passion level. Work, childcare, households, and obligations suck your passion tank dry. I remember the long, hot make-out sessions that left us breathless. I remember wanting, so badly, to...you know. I remember being out together somewhere, with others, doing something and the sexual tension was so thick between us. Slowly that fades until you get here and look back at it like it's something lost. Can you get it back? It takes work. But seriously...it's my work. Like many, my husband wants more sex. And it isn't that I don't. I'm just tired. There I said it. I'm tired. I feel like people have needed things from me all day long, most days, that I can't take one more obligation, which is sad. Sex is a act of love. I have a marriage that I cherish with all my heart. I was watching The Doctors the other day - a major rarity - and the OB on there said something about sex making the wife feel good about her sexual being and body, and the man having his physical needs met. It's win/win. Yet still...I'm tired. What's weird is that I'm sitting here watching this movie, wishing for the magnetic pull there used to be between my husband and I when we were teenagers. What's up with that?
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