No longer will you know me as Trina. My new name is “Samantha”. My children, formerly known as Graham and Hayden, will now be known as “Adam & Tabitha”. My husband, formerly known as Jason, is “Dick”. I probably should have chosen the name Darrin for him, in keeping with the “Bewitched” theme, but I think Dick has so much more potential, don’t you? Besides, Bewitched had a Dick. Heck, there were even two Dicks (Sargent & York) in the role of Darrin.
Why, am I changing our identities you ask? It’s Dick’s fault. You see, my husband, is concerned about revealing our children’s names and personal details here where “anyone” (presumably he’s referring to riff-raff like you) can see them. His argument is that the children are too young to consent to the use of their names in a public forum such as this, so we should respect their privacy. For the record, I’d just like to point out that all of this was revealed AFTER my initial publications and was not, if you’ll recall, included in the original set of blogging rules.
Anyway, my take on it is this: Adam & Tabitha are a bunch of freeloaders; take, take, take - that’s all they do. The VERY least they can do for mommy is to serve as a source of entertainment for a few friends, some family and some strangers who accidentally stumble upon my site while searching for porn.
This situation, where I casually use my name in public or offer other shocking personal details to strangers, such as my preference for 2% over Skim, is admittedly, a sticking point in our relationship. My husband is a self-described “private person” so I suspect he greets my recent decision to start blogging with a mix of concern and amusement. From his standpoint, I’m a loose cannon - capable of spewing TMI all over the place.
I think I always knew that Dick was big on keeping his personal life to himself, but this fact really came into light when I was pregnant. In fact, I was about 8 months pregnant with Adam when Dick finally, reluctantly, told his coworkers (whose names I can’t mention…of course) that we were expecting. Worse, I don’t think any of those same people knew I’d been pregnant with Tabitha until they saw the baby picture of her I forced him to put on his desk.
You know those women you read about from time to time who find out that their husband has had another wife and family stashed in Kansas City for the last 15 years? I think I know how they feel. I always thought it was weird when we would bump into Dick’s coworkers around town and it would soon become apparent that they never knew of our existence. These poor people would stumble out comments like, “Wow. It’s so nice to meet you. I can’t believe I’ve been working alongside your husband for the last 2 years and he’s never mentioned his family…”
My husband’s extreme tendency towards shielding his private life from prying coworkers, alleged friends and potentially meddling family members totally mystifies me. To be clear, I’m not saying that I routinely shout my life’s personal details to anyone within earshot. It’s not like we’re on opposite ends of the spectrum here. Discretion is one thing, I just don’t see what’s wrong with making chit chat about the little things we all have in common - kids, spouses, friends, hobbies. Despite what he may think, I get that you’re not supposed to share intimate details with strangers. That’s what I have girlfriends for.
I’ve heard stories from other women that their Dicks are the same way, which makes me wonder - have I stumbled across some sort of universal truth of the male species? Is their fear of commitment so ingrained in their psyche that they can’t even permit themselves to indulge in casual banter? If so, how do they forge any kind of lasting relationships if they spend all their time NOT sharing?
The more I think about this, the more I think this brand of isolationism is a learned behavior, designed to keep the male in a deluded state of superiority - functioning under the misguided belief that an absence of information disarms his enemy. This could explain a lot about male/female relations.
Here’s a crap theory for your consideration: Young men are the predominant readers of comic books. Comic book heroes often have secret identities. Why? Let’s look at Superman, for instance. What’s the big deal if the world were to find out that Clark Kent is Superman? If the motivation behind his deception is to keep a low profile so he can stay focused on his quest for truth, justice and the American Way then I’d suggest he start with a more obvious attention-grabber - that superhero wardrobe. If you want people to focus on your selfless acts, then maybe you should try making a fashion statement that’s a little less dependent on electric blue spandex unitards. I think we can all agree that a properly fitted pair of jeans and a v-neck sweater are nice ways of looking sharp while keeping everyone’s eyes on your good character.
On the other hand, maybe the secret identity was designed to attract the ladies? Maybe his superthinking was that chicks, including Lois, would find the allure of the mystery man irresistible? And, let’s face it, all of us, from time to time find a certain appeal in the unattainable man (this explains the reason I’m still lusting after Mr. Big). But most of us know that no one ever ends up happily-ever-after with Mr. Can’t Commit.
I suspect I’ve drifted off point. My point is this: from a young age, boys are influenced through their culture and entertainment to disarm potential opponents by cutting off access to their ammo supplies. By carefully screening out the more intimate details of their lives, they forge relationships very gradually, slowly increasing their confidence in the loyalty and reliability of their new confidants.
Wow. I think I’ve just experienced a break through. Rather than being simply weird and annoying, Dick’s awkwardly guarded interactions with others are designed to protect his loved ones - his family! Awww.
Then again, maybe there’s a Serena in Kansas City right now married to her Dick, thinking the exact same thing…
Raw Drip is one woman's raw, wry, fresh, and cheeky take on parenting, relationships, life, and other important stuff. I started writing Raw Drip because my friends are scattered all over the place and as a working mother with two toddlers I have no time to talk to them on the phone, meet them for a cup of coffee - or bathe regularly. Instead, I sit my stinky solo self down at my computer and write about all the things I used to talk with them about - and then I share it all with you - my fan base, my readership, my loyal drips.
Some of you have asked about the site name, Raw Drip, what does it mean? The name was inspired by the freshly perked cup of coffee I was drinking when I decided to start writing. I guess people see the word "raw" and just assume that the name has something to do with porn. It doesn't. I also don't write about: raw meat storage, raw food dieting, photos of people in the raw, or an obscure Japanese band named Raw Drip.
So dudes, if you've inadvertently stumbled upon my site while surfing for porn, my apologies. Unfortunately for you, you've landed in a place that's all chick-chat, with occasional penis references thrown in just for fun. At Raw Drip, the truth is harsh. But if you're man enough to handle it, keep reading. If not, move it along...
There. Are we all clear now? No porn here.
Happy Reading!
Samantha
Big Drip, Mom, wife and training geek
Leave a reply