The History of SOS
I started the SpyingOnSuburbia blog in 2008 after experiencing an existential crisis that resulted in me abruptly leaving my career, which I communicated to my husband (aka my lover) via text message:
I had a single goal. Ok, so that’s a lie, I didn’t even have a plan. I just knew that pieces of my soul were rotting away by the minute and I needed to reassess my situation.
I spent my days doing things like volunteering at my kid’s school, having multi-generational lunches with my sister and flying off to teach orphans in Nicaragua.
But you know what they say about carefully laid plans and the pavement to hell or can be like hell or something?
Like the time I volunteered for classroom science helper and had to ride my son’s Spiderman bike to the elementary school, ripping out the stitches in my leg, arriving late and teaching the students the wrong information.
Or that lunch at Panera where my sister and me abandoned her 88-year-old great aunt in-law at a four-top table, to rush me to the emergency room due to a hysteria-fueled anxiety freak-out.
Or when I flew off to Nicaragua with a group of people I did not know, from a church I hardly attended to teach something called VBS having never read the bible. (I still believe it was divine intervention that I accidentally was in possession of my sister’s Xanax prescription because without those 40 little peach pills I may have died there.)
Or that rainy day my car would not start and I was stranded alone, in a torrid downpour at the end of my driveway realizing in horror that I didn’t know a single neighbors name.
And how we decided to adopt a child in August and despite assuring my husband that we weren’t “jumping into anything,” and “this will take forever” had an infant son two months later.
Fast-forward to 2013: Some Lessons Learned
I had zero future as a hair stylist.
Stay at Home Mom + Betty James = HOT MESS or total FAIL!
That sometime in the late 90’s Halloween morphed into a neighborhood wide tailgate festival to rival an NFL game and don't drink the Sprite drink in the cauldron labeled "Adults Only". It won't end well.
I am white. Literally, yes very much so, but also with a privilege and guilt that I am only beginning to understand as I raise my brown sons.
Buying into the mantra that "The path to better writing can only be found by attending a top five MFA program" is another one of those things you should probably loop your husband in on in the event that you do apply, shockingly get accepted and to an even bigger shock to your husband accept to attend the winter session.
It was time to wind down SOS.
2013-Today: More Lessons Learned in The Undocumented Years:
My husband would like to be included in decisions that involve adding more kids and/or animals to the family. (Meeting Sweet Polly Purebred at 1am /Three Kids for Christmas)
I still believe that the LunchLine concept makes a great dinner!
That if it takes a village to assist you with anything involving a car (or travel for that matter) than maybe you should reconsider getting that driver/handler. (Me v. the Parking Deck/Adventures at Hotel Rave in Orlando/Driving in Cars with CEOs and other Executives)
That stuff like reading body language and having self-awareness are real abilities that A. people have and B. I do not and C. come to find out are kinda important and D. explains A LOT.
Time to relaunch SOS as my personal therapy.