annieology

So Tiger Woods is an uber celebrity that apparently has been having an affair.  Can we say that we are shocked?  Really?

This guy has been widely recognizable for 20 years.  I know this, because my husband knows who he is.  If I can say a name and my husband doesn’t cock his head to one side and look at me funny, then it is safe to say that 90% of Americans know this person.  God love the man, but I doubt he’s heard of Glee.

Celebrity and money changes people, especially when you become a celebrity for being the best at something, you believe that translates into all aspects of your life.  It doesn’t.  Tiger rocks at golf, to an embarrassing level.  He is king of the golf world.  Now, put him in a normal situation, let’s say marriage.  Few people rock at marriage to the level that he rocks at golf.  He has spent his life becoming the best at golf, I would venture to say that relationships are often put on the back burner for that honor.

Put yourself in his shoes for a moment.  When you are ANY place other than your home, you are king of the world.  You walk into your house, you are human, you walk out you are god.  It’s intoxicating.

It’s easy for the rest of us to sit back and be appalled.  His celebrity does not grant him super powers that make him immune to sexual temptation, throw in millions of dollars and he’s not only human, he’s also a target.  How many women in the world want to wow your husband?  Sure there may be some, but they aren’t everywhere.

What it comes down to is that none of this is any of our business.

There is a scarlet letter man’s jacket hanging in my closet.  Be shocked, be appalled, be understanding.  You are not me.  You have no idea what my life or situation was like.  I did not ever want that distinction, had you asked me I would have said “I’d never”.  Now, I am the first to say, “Yep, I could so very easily go there.”  and  I would, and I know this, and I haven’t.

Right now it’s Tiger’s turn to be naked at the feet of Jesus with a crowd surrounded waiting for their chance.  Show him some grace.  Show him some mercy.  Drop your stones and walk away.  There will be a time in your life when you are there too, maybe for a different reason, but you will be there.  Ashamed and vulnerable, and in need of mercy.

I’m going to put in a little filler before we do, that way those of you who want to avoid the subject don’t accidentally read something that will make you want to stick a pencil in your ear and try to erase that portion of your memory.

So, how’s it going?

OK, I think they are gone.  Why are we talking about sex?  Well, the subject seems to be, shall we say, coming up a lot in my life.  The kids.  The friends.  It’s just been a hot topic lately.  Everybody wants to know about it, but no one wants to talk about it.  So, we read what the sexperts say, but still no one is satisfied.

Sex is just weird.  We like it, but it’s weird.  We want it when it’s forbidden, yet when we have access to it, we can always find something else more important.  The average marriage lasts seven years because that’s how long it takes to have 2.5 children after the wedding and then “realize” how miserable you are.  The women transfer their affections to the kids and the husbands get tired of it being harder to score with their wife than the hottie at work and we sit around wondering what happened.

When it comes to this topic, I may look like a girl, but my brain sides with the guys almost every time.  Because of the things the girls are telling me.

Do not tell me that the kids are getting in the way.  That’s why God invented Ace Hardware.  Go to Ace, pick up a lock for the door.  Problem solved.  I’m sure you have figured out how to keep them distracted long enough to shower, or cook dinner, or whatever else it is you real women do with your time, figure it out.  You figured out how to sneak some sex in while you were a teenager, you don’t honestly want us all to believe that you were smarter when you were 17 do you?

When it comes to man and wife time, the kids are off limits.  You cannot go out on a date and talk about the kids all night and expect to get all hot and bothered.  Well, not in the good way anyway.

I even heard a girl tell me that she couldn’t get into it because she was worried what her kids would think if they knew what she was doing.  You should not be worried about what the kids think.  You should be worried that someone who doesn’t give a damn about what your kids think might become interested in your husband.

Do not tell me you are no longer interested in sex.   Who’s buying Cosmo?  You are.  And it’s nothing if not word porn for women.   You’re interested, but you think if your husband really loved you he’d figure out what to do, just like in the books.  It may require graphs and charts and a laser pointer, but trust me, they are willing subjects.  And guess what, if he doesn’t get it right today, you can always try again tomorrow.  And if any of you girls needs graphs or charts, let me know, I’ll lend you mine.

There was a time in my life where the whole world would sing “Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love you, tomorrow.”  My alter ego would lament that tomorrow was always a day away.

Tomorrow.

She would have a home.

Tomorrow.

She would have a family.

Tomorrow.

She would have the life that she dreamed of.

This Annie gets it.

Tomorrow.

I will get MY dreams.

Tomorrow.

These kids will be gone.

Tomorrow.

I won’t have to…

Tomorrow.

I will be Annie.

I love you tomorrow.  Where are you?

In the end, the lyrics change.

Tomorrow is only a day away.

Tomorrow.

Dagan turns nineteen.

Tomorrow.

Big Boy will drive himself to school.

Tomorrow.

Radical will enter his final year of elementary school.

Tomorrow.

Felpsy will enter Kindergarten.

Tomorrow.

The twins will begin their final year as babies.

Tomorrow.

Where did you come from?  I knew you were coming, I just wasn’t expecting you.

I have a child who isn’t.  I actually have two.  By this time next year, my role as the primary parent for Radical will have been filled by Daddy Awesome.  Radical will no longer need a Mommy.  He’s looking more to his father to teach him how to be a man.  Those babies they brought in the middle of the night are riding bikes.  Felpsy has made incredible progress from the wild child that they brought us.

It’s all going as it should.

I just wasn’t expecting it.

Tomorrow

they will not need me.

Yet

this morning as another tomorrow arrived, Hubby and I all cuddled up in bed, willing the world to wait awhile longer, I knew this story needed me.  That I needed it.

I am that I am because of this story.

They are that they are.

Tomorrow can wait.

Tomorrow is here.