Musings on Success Envy*

I have a thing about education. Some people want to be famous, some want to be rich. I want to be highly educated. At first it sounds harmless, because education is a good thing, but naturally the carnal monster in me takes that good thing and makes it about status. Highly educated people… people with multiple PhDs… they’ve got it going on. Nobody can argue with someone like that (unless they, too, have multiple doctorates), which is half the draw. There are very few people with those kind of credentials in this world and chances are, I’ll run into maybe a couple. So if I had myself a PhD or two, I would win every argument and people would ask for my professional opinion, which I would give, quite humbly. I crave the chance to give a “humble” opinion that everyone wants to hear.

When I put it that way, maybe I should just go to law school. I do love winning a good, well reasoned argument. Life is a game and I intend to WIN. That’ll show ‘em.

So really my problem, and, if I may, the problem of those fame-seekers, is that we want to be respected and recognized for our accomplishments. We just have to accomplish something first.

People that want to be rich are just selfish.

Just kidding. I want money, too. Because then, I could humbly distribute it to the less fortunate.

It would be easy to say, “Oh. My motivation is impure. I should not finish graduate school if that’s the real reason I want to get my Master’s.” But that doesn’t fix it, because then I make other things about success. I judge myself on how good of a cook I am or how clean my house is. Whether I can make that pillow/those curtains/that skirt myself. Whether I dress well. It doesn’t matter what I do, I’m hopelessly addicted to doing the BEST in EVERYTHING and doing it FASTEST. Rarely am I content to admit that I don’t know anything about such and such a subject and be content with not knowing.

Lima beans. I know nothing about the horticulture and business of lima beans. And I am content not knowing.

But that’s about it.

Here’s the glory of a lazy person: they’re typically pretty content not doing stuff or being good at stuff or having accolades. Motivated people get all the credit and none of the satisfaction. How good can that be? Give a lazy person a tv and a remote and they’re happy while I scrub and sew and study and sweat myself into discontentment.

There must be a middle ground, but pat me on the back if I can manage to stay there more than 10 minutes per year.

But if I could, if I could balance motivation and contentment, that would show ‘em.

And I would show them (humbly, of course).

*I was going to title this, "Succenvy", but when you say it aloud, it sounds like, "Sexenvy" which is something I do not know about and am content not knowing about. That and lima beans.

It's the Jeans

I've canceled my last two hair appointments. One got the axe at the last minute, which is never something to be proud of. So today, even when I didn't have a sitter, I had to go. I wore the skinny jeans of post-pregnancy fame.

Because I wore the jeans that Nathan had previously peed on and spit up on several times, he felt the need to one-up himself. He gets that from me.

So he pooped on my jeans and my shirt when I was trying to keep him quiet. In the middle of my haircut. He does not get that from me.

There I sat for the last half of my haircut, smelly and a bit uncomfortable with the whole "baby poop on my clothes" issue while Nathan (returned to his carseat for reasons that rival radioactive waste leakage) screamed. He eventually fell asleep, sucking his thumb and sitting in his own mess while I tried not to think about it.

Every so often my hairdresser would fake a smile and laugh as if to say, "I'm having my tubes tied. Tomorrow."
Nathan Butterfield. The best thing that ever happened to birth control.

You turn your back for one second...

We are dog sitting. His name is Gunner and he and Henry are best friends.

Today when Nate woke up from his nap, I greeted him enthusiastically, cooing and smiling. Gunner came running in to see what was getting so much attention. He peeked into the crib and I thought, "Aww! I'll get a picture."
Then I took Nathan out to the living room to feed him. Several minutes later, I heard the thump of a dog jumping on the bed. I had just made our bed, so I hollered "Get down!" to whichever dog had decided to mess it up. Nothing. I picked Nate up and went to investigate. No dog on the bed, but when I passed the nursery, I saw this:
My dog can barely jump on the couch.

Henry is baffled, since he has no athletic ability whatsoever and cannot fathom how this happened.

I admit that I told him to stay put while I ran for the camera, but as soon as I had these pictures I made him get down... which he did with ease.

Maybe he liked the attention I was giving Nathan and wanted some of his own, so he jumped in. Maybe he was looking for Nathan.

Maybe he's a mountain goat with a long, drooly tongue.

And Adding to My Vanity...

Today I did what anyone who just got back from a two-week Christmas vacation wants to do... I got fillings for my two pregnancy-induced cavities. This was the second time I'd been to this particular dentist and thus, the second time Nathan had as well. They loved him the first time, but today, they took his picture... with the tooth camera. This was my view from the chair, pre-filling:
They played with him the whole time the dentist was boring holes to China through my mouth and when I left, there was a printout of his pictures (yes, multiple) on the back of the office wall. They even threatened to keep him.

As if I needed a reason to be stuck up about him.