Lessons from my deathbed
Monday, December 1st, 2008
Books of knowledge
Last night, I woke at 1 a.m. with a wet, itchy sensation in my ear.
I got up, went to the bathroom, turned on the light, and did exactly what you are not supposed to do in these situations: I stuck a Q-tip in my ear. I removed it. It was soaked with blood. So I stuck the other end inside my ear, pulled it out, and looked at it. It was soaked with blood, too.
I was quite certain that I was dying of a cerebral hemorrhage. I gave myself an hour-tops. If it wasn’t a cerebral hemorrhage, then it was an aneurysm. If not that, then a brain tumor.
I thought about going to the ER, but that would have required waking up my husband. He’s really grouchy when you wake him in the middle of the night. He’s pretty grouchy when you wake him at any time, really.
So I did want any normal modern adult would do. I turned on my computer and asked Google: “Blood is oozing out of my ear. What should I do?”
After reading 15 different entries about “ear discharge,” I realized that I was not going to die within the next hour. I’d probably scratched my ear in my sleep. At the very worst, I had a middle ear infection.
I went back to bed.
My 4-year-old crawled into my bed at 7:30 a.m., waking me. I hugged her as I usually do, but this hug was a little tighter and longer. I was happy to be alive, even if I had never truly been close to death in the first place.
I am quite happy with the way my life has turned out. I’ve been good to the people I love, and they’ve been good to me. I’ve seen a lot of the world. My friends know the real me, and they like the me that they know. I’ve had some truly amazing experiences. I’ve faced down my fears. I’ve fought for my marriage and won. I’ve done a lot with my career, and I love what I’ve done and continue to do.
I’m happy.
If I had died at 2 a.m. my only regret would have been leaving my daughter motherless.
Don’t get me wrong. I trust my husband to be a fantastic father—with me around or not. I can trust him to teach her how to ride a bike, throw a spiral, catch a baseball, enjoy good beer, and root for the Gators. He’ll also teach her that she really ought not to wear the same outfit two days in a row. Thank God for that. I’m guessing he’ll probably also teach her how to change her brake pads. He might even teach her how to ride a motorcycle, but I hope he doesn’t.
Yet, there are some things that only I can teach our daughter, and they are lessons I want her to learn—whether I am around to teach them or not. So I thought I would write them all down, just in case.
Mom’s Important Life Lessons
No matter what your Daddy tells you, you can probably get away with wearing an outfit four days in a row, but you should change your underpants every single day.
You can do or be anything.
If you haven’t worn something for an entire year, you should probably give it to charity.
High heels will ruin your feet and your knees.
You don’t need to lose weight or go on a diet. Your butt is not too big. Your thighs are beautiful, and that outfit does not make you look fat.
If you have acne, use salicylic acid. If that doesn’t work, see a dermatologist.
If you are in middle school or high school, you’re wearing too much makeup. You don’t really need the stuff until you’re close to middle age—and even then it’s debatable.
If you can’t find something, stop looking for it. Things always turn up eventually, but never when you are looking for them.
Never store a black object in a black purse unless, of course, you never wish to see it again.
If you want a boy to like you, be yourself. If he still doesn’t like you, then he needs a brain transplant. Poor him.
Failure is not a four-letter word. Show me someone who has never failed, and I’ll show you someone who has never taken a risk. You can’t achieve success without first facing down your fears and falling on your face.
If your friends make fun of you or try to change you, they are not really your friends. If you can’t be yourself, they are not really your friends. If your friends do not support you, they are not your friends. If they talk about you behind your back, they are not your friends. If one of them has sex with your boyfriend or husband, she is not your friend.
You cannot find happiness by buying more things, making more money, having more power, or getting a really impressive-sounding job title. You find happiness by knowing what you want and finding the courage to go after it. You find happiness by knowing who you are, and having the courage to be that person. You find happiness by recognizing another person in need and having the courage to give a part of yourself to that person. Happiness is not found in getting. It’s found in giving.
You are in charge of your own happiness. No one else can make you happy.
Do less. Sleep more.
Trust your inner voice. It’s always right.
If you think high school is hard, college is even worse. If you think college is hard, just wait until you get a job.
Hand wash and hang dry your bras, fancy panties and lingerie. They will last longer.
Don’t trust your husband to wash your delicates. Dry clean them instead.
Reserve your old, faded panties for when you are having your period.
Always keep feminine products in your purse. You never know when they will come in handy.
Don’t wear white while you are having your period.
Don’t buy anything new that you can get second hand. Don’t throw anything away that you can give to someone else.
If a boy pressures you to have sex, kick him in the balls as hard as you can. Then, break up with him.
You don’t need anyone. If you are not happy in a relationship, break it off. It might hurt for a while, but you’ll get over it.
Being alone is not the worst thing that can happen to you, but being stuck in a terrible marriage probably is.
If a man tells you that he will call you, he probably won’t.
Don’t have sex with anyone who does not love you.
If a fraternity brother tosses you over his shoulder and says, “You’re coming upstairs with me,” the correct response is to say, “Fat chance of that.” Then press your thumb into his trachea as hard as you can. If that doesn’t work, give him a swift elbow to the ear.
If a fraternity brother tosses you over his shoulder, says, “You’re coming upstairs with me,” and walks away while your friends watch and do nothing, they are not really your friends.
If you can’t stand up without falling down, it’s probably time to stop drinking.
One night stands are never worth it. The sex is always bad, and the guy always looks uglier the next day than he did the night before.
When in doubt, use a condom.
What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Use pain and adversity to your advantage. Learn from both.
If you want your husband to do something, ask.
If you want your husband to do something, don’t do it first. Give him a chance.
Speak your voice—sooner.
Men need detailed instructions. If you want your husband to pick up something for dinner, tell him exactly what to buy. Otherwise he’ll come home with a steak and no side dish.
If your marriage is in trouble, don’t try to fix it by having a baby. Babies don’t save marriages; they usually end them.
If you want to kill your husband, go for a walk instead.
Sometimes chocolate is the best solution.
The best way to get baby poop out of clothes? Throw them away.
You are a great mother. Never doubt that.
Motherhood causes amnesia, but your friends will forgive you for forgetting their birthdays.
You will one day be told that porn objectifies women. It’s not necessarily true. You should really check some of it out, especially if you’ve been married for 10 years.
It’s not only okay and normal to touch yourself, it’s recommended.
If a man gives you the creeps, don’t second-guess yourself. Run away as fast as you can.
Life is too short to force yourself to finish a bad book. If you are not sucked in by page 80, close it and donate it to the library.
If you don’t feel like doing something, don’t do it.
If you are not having fun at a party, it’s okay to leave.
If someone is talking endlessly about himself, it’s okay to walk away.
It’s okay to be unladylike.
Put yourself first. You are worth it.
Your time is valuable. Don’t let other people waste it.
You are beautiful—and you always will be.
Do you have life lessons? Add them in the comments area.
Coming soon…
If you are a regular here, then you probably read, “The art of recovering from a food coma” and you are ready for Part 2: the art of not gaining weight over the holidays. Patience, my dear, is a virtue. I’m a writer, after all, and I must write what the muse tells me to write, otherwise I might end up with a severe case of writer’s block. So today the muse said, “lessons from your deathbed or else!” When she talks, I listen. So tomorrow I’ll tell you how not to gain any more stinking weight. And not to worry: 24 more hours of fierce overeating isn’t going to make much of a difference.
After that: my husband is a dreamboat-and yours can be, too!
