Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Every now and then.

Tomorrow morning I fly to Sydney for a girls weekend and Colour Conference. I am seriously excited. I can't wait to spend some time away from all the [delightful] boys and have some quality girl time. This trip has been planned for almost a year, tickets were booked when I was only a few weeks pregnant with the little princess who, of course, is coming along for the ride and her first plane trip at the ripe old age of 4months. 

Today is going to be crazy busy trying to get organised, so I attempted to start packing last night. For some reason, trips like these always bring out the insecure, emotional teenager in me. 
When I went to pack my bags I discovered that although I have a wardrobe full of clothes nothing is 'just right' to take with me. It's not that I want designer dresses and tiffany jewelry. It's that when I go to pack my bags I am reminded (as i am quite often am) that the image of myself in my head doesn't exactly match with my wardrobe. 

I'm not even sure what I would want to take if I had endless cash and could simply spend today shopping for the perfect outfit. I suspect though that it would involve much of the same, only new and without baby spit stains and stretched necklines (you know, from all the little hands that so love to grab at you). 
Because I guess the truth of the matter is, that no matter what I own I feel the most confident in a pair of jeans and a tank top. Add a nice necklace or scarf and hey presto, thats it I'm done.

Which leads me to my next point. 
Apparently I'm spoilt. Ok, granted the words spoilt didn't come out of my darling husbands mouth. But the words 'high standards' did. Quite a number of times. Apparently the fact that the idea of surviving on rice doesn't register in my perfect holiday plan proves that I didn't experience a 'normal upbringing'. 

My parents (yes, this includes you mum) always, I'm not sure how to word it, I guess we always appeared to have more then we really did. In a sense, it was a lie. I know for a fact that my mum sacrificed alot so that my sister and I wouldn't have to go without. Only I always believed that, unlike my baby sister who still doesn't seem to fully grasp the value of things, I knew. I knew that $25 thongs were just the same as the $4 ones at target. I knew how to shop within our means. Whie little sister has alway, always been 'top shelf' and designer, I have preferred home made, one off, not quite the norm. 

Anyway, back to my 'not-so-normal upbringing'. We went on quite a few little holidays which were really our somewhat rare trip to visit my father which, due to my fathers chosen line of work, also nearly always involved staying at rather nice hotels. So yes, I didn't go camping. Didn't stay at dingy hotels on the side of the highway, didn't survive on steamed rice. Hot chips perhaps? I'm not sure. But I am certain there was no steamed rice.

Another area which I think the word 'high standards' could apply, and one which I may just use as rebuttal when Michael gets home is food. My in-laws, as much as I love them, are defiantly of the quantity over quality camp. You can guess where I stand on this one. The prime example is olives. When we got married Michael could eat an entire jar of 'home brand green stuffed olives' in one sitting. Take a moment and comprehend exactly how gross that actually is. When you are sufficiently grossed out proceed. So, Mike loved these 'treat' giant olive jars until one day I got him a single scoop of 'balsamic marinated kalatma olives' from the deli. You can guess which ones he now prefers. To the point that he can no longer handle the green stuff.

I have gotten so completely off track I don't even no how to get to where I was planning on going.

During his father-of-the-bride wedding speech my father made some joke about my 'champagne taste on a beer budget'. Darling Mike heard the champagne part, but it seems he tunned out for the beer budget line. He has always loved to spoil me. Those close to me will know that it is a very rare thing that he says no to me. He spoils the crap out of me. I always knew this. And it didn't bother me. 
Until last night when he admitted to believing the lie. He believed in the image that my parents so falsely project. He has been working unbelievable hours in order to keep up with my 'standards'. He believed I had married below myself. Like in some old fashioned romance novel. That I was a princess and he nothing but the help.

It's sweet. And romantic. And not true. 
Somehow, this revelation leaves me feeling terribly guilty. 
I can't work out why exactly.
Nothing has actually changed.
He still strives to give me the world out of nothing but love for me.
I guess the problem is that, while it has been done out of love, it's also from the pressure. The only reason he feels that pressure is because he loves me. But still. 

Yes this is related to my trip this weekend.
When faced with the site of me working myself into a tiff over what to pack, Mike's immediate response was suggest I take a shopping trip today and find something new to take with me. Not an entire designer outfit, Just a new t-shirt or the like.
Even after a very long discussion last night about the lies he was believing he still insists.

So yes, I guess it's true.
I'm spoilt rotten.


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