Arnold Schwarzenegger cheated on his wife Maria Shriver, fathered a child outside of their marriage as a result of said cheating, and referred to this mistake in his press release as an "event" that took place over ten years ago.
Event?
An event is something that happens and ends. Producing a child outside of your marriage is far more than an "event." When your "event" walks, talks, and attends school, it ain't an "event."
Maria Shriver has joined the Sisterhood of the Philandering Husbands. That club includes presidents' wives, congressmen's wives, and a pretty significant percentage of wives around the world. I wouldn't wish that on any woman. And unlike a mistress, whom you can choose to have nothing to do with after the "event," Arnold had to take it one step further and have a "baby mama." That makes Arnold more than just a father or ex-governor: He's a "baby daddy," as in that janky song, "That's Just My Baby's Daddy." Indeed.
So how do you solve a problem like Maria's -- finding out that your husband not only cheated, but fathered a child who will be a part of his life for the rest of his life?
You don't. Because it's not your problem. It's his.
I had the good fortune to be cheated on by someone I was dating. I say "good fortune" because I didn't marry the schmuck, never even got close. My schmuck even had the temerity to have me and the other woman riding around with him in a car, each of us thinking the other was just a friend. I don't know if I would have ever married him, but I feel blessed that that experience happened to me while I was single. There were no children involved, no property to divide, no career given up. I dropped him with a phone call. It was all he deserved. But I learned a lot, and there's still more to be learned from all this.
First, cheating is the cheater's problem, not yours. Cheaters, especially male cheaters, will sometimes try to blame the women they've cheated on. Unless you cheated on him first, cheating is not your fault. If he was unhappy in the relationship, he needed to be man enough to say so and get out of the relationship in an honest way that respected you and what you both had. If he wasn't unhappy in the relationship and cheated, then he still has a problem with personal responsibility and control. If a man can hold it long enough to pee, he can hold it back long enough to avoid violating his marriage vows. I know men think their penises have a will and a personality all their own. They don't. If you are weaker than your own penis, maybe you shouldn't own one.
Second, no man can make you and, therefore, he can't break you. Everything you brought into the relationship -- your skills, your virtues, your drive, your heart -- was already there inside of you. You are not diminished in any way just because your spouse or significant other has a wandering penis. Always, always remember what you're made of. In Maria's case, she's made of pretty stern stuff. Arnold's actions don't change that. She's going to be just fine. She probably doesn't know it yet, but she will.
Third, your priority at this point is to protect yourself and your children if you have any. In my case, my cheater owed me money. I got the money back, then dropped him. In Maria's case, she needs to make sure her kids are okay and taken care and then take care of herself. A call to a good forensic accountant and divorce attorney might be in order right about now, even if she doesn't divorce the putz. She needs to make sure that her rights and her children's rights are protected. A therapist might not be a bad thing, either. A summer at Hyannisport might be in order.
Fourth, don't second guess yourself and don't beat yourself up for not seeing what was probably obvious to everyone else. Love blinds, and no one thinks they should have to double check and birddog someone they trust, especially if they trusted the person enough to marry him. Cheaters violate that trust, but there's no wrong in having trusted in the first place. But a bought lesson is a learned lesson, and you will become more discerning about trusting down the line. You have to.
Fifth, you can't blame the child created out of all this, so don't mistreat it. What child would choose a cheater as a parent? As hard as it might be, a little compassion for the other child in this situation is in order. As a mom, I'm sure Maria Shriver gets this. Should Arnold decide to be more than a checkbook for this child, his actions should be encouraged for the sake of the child. That doesn't mean you have to live with him and encourage him, but encouragement would not be a bad thing. Again, as a mom, I'm sure Maria gets this.
But trying to change a cheater, especially one that has fathered a child outside of the marriage and lied about it for ten years? That's nobody's problem but the cheater's. Sure, you can take a cheater back, but at the end of the day, only they can change their behavior.
So how do you solve a problem like Maria's? You don't, because you can't.
P.S. I wish Maria Shriver and her children the best. She was, in my opinion, probably the best First Lady the state of California has ever known. I hope she knows it.
Showing posts with label Arnold Schwarzenegger. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Arnold Schwarzenegger. Show all posts
If You Fail To Plan . . .
My best friend always says, "If you fail to plan, you plan to fail." She follows that one up with, "Plan your work and work your plan." She's right.
I'm abysmal at following through on my plans. I think the problem is that I don't have kids. Bear with me.
When you have children around you, you have a visual prompt as to the passage of time. You see them grow and gain skills over time, and it's a reminder of time passing and how much time you don't have with them.
Without kids, the only prompts you have as to the passage of time are gray hair, wrinkles and infirmity. Well, I'm genetically blessed in that department. I don't have a lot of a gray hair, the only wrinkles I have are laugh lines, and despite high cholesterol, my biggest infirmity is self-imposed -- obesity. Long story short, I don't feel as old as I am. I don't realize how much time has passed until I find myself in the presence of children.
I had the pleasure of attending a family barbecue yesterday, and I held my 7 month-old great nephew, my late mother's great-grandchild. He looks just like one of my late uncles, and he's already trying to crawl. He eats nonstop and eats just about everything in sight! (He comes by that one honestly -- my late mother referred to my dad as a "gut bucket" because of his voracious appetite.)
It was then that it really hit me -- time is flying by. And I want more for myself and my family.
I've made the huge mistake of chasing fulfillment most of my adult life from my employment when I should have been seeking it in relationships -- marriage, kids, family. I look at my nephew and his desire to get his family settled in a home of their own and I realize that my focus needs to change. Now that I have more years behind me than in front of me, I need to really start thinking about leaving the next generation of my family better off than my generation. The financial goals that seem to have come more easily for my parents' generation, such as buying a house, seem almost out of reach for the generation behind me. And we all know that a house is the bedrock of wealth for most middle class families. I want to leave this earth knowing that the generation behind me is at least solidly middle class, not teetering on the edge.
But more than that, I need to lay a foundation for them to dream. I achieved my dream of being a lawyer. For the generation behind me, having a dream seems almost like a wasteful indulgence. It's almost as if they're afraid to dream, much less reveal any such dream to anyone.
I learned that my nephew dreams of becoming a writer. I had no idea. To say the least, I'm over the moon with the possibility of seeing his work shared with the world. He's afraid that he doesn't write well enough, and I've encouraged him to start blogging and, when in doubt, send his drafts to his auntie, The Writing Diva, and she'll edit them for him like she edits my work on occasion. More than anything, I hope he comes up with a plan for achieving this dream and his dream of home ownership.
In the meantime, I need to really sit my butt in a chair and plan for the future -- not just my future, but my family's. Most of us work for the state of California and have weathered furloughs and, for one of us, layoffs. We've been rocked hard, like most families, during this "Great Recession" even though we didn't engage in the financial foolishness that brought our economy to its knees. We all agree that our family needs a business, another stream of income, so that we will never be subject to the financial wrath of another stupid and despotic governor as we have with Arnold Schwarzenegger. I just need to figure out what that business will be. My hope is that this will be what we leave to the next generation so they will indeed be better off and, above all, able to dream.
And it all begins with a plan. Like my best friend says, "If you fail to plan . . . . "
I'm abysmal at following through on my plans. I think the problem is that I don't have kids. Bear with me.
When you have children around you, you have a visual prompt as to the passage of time. You see them grow and gain skills over time, and it's a reminder of time passing and how much time you don't have with them.
Without kids, the only prompts you have as to the passage of time are gray hair, wrinkles and infirmity. Well, I'm genetically blessed in that department. I don't have a lot of a gray hair, the only wrinkles I have are laugh lines, and despite high cholesterol, my biggest infirmity is self-imposed -- obesity. Long story short, I don't feel as old as I am. I don't realize how much time has passed until I find myself in the presence of children.
I had the pleasure of attending a family barbecue yesterday, and I held my 7 month-old great nephew, my late mother's great-grandchild. He looks just like one of my late uncles, and he's already trying to crawl. He eats nonstop and eats just about everything in sight! (He comes by that one honestly -- my late mother referred to my dad as a "gut bucket" because of his voracious appetite.)
It was then that it really hit me -- time is flying by. And I want more for myself and my family.
I've made the huge mistake of chasing fulfillment most of my adult life from my employment when I should have been seeking it in relationships -- marriage, kids, family. I look at my nephew and his desire to get his family settled in a home of their own and I realize that my focus needs to change. Now that I have more years behind me than in front of me, I need to really start thinking about leaving the next generation of my family better off than my generation. The financial goals that seem to have come more easily for my parents' generation, such as buying a house, seem almost out of reach for the generation behind me. And we all know that a house is the bedrock of wealth for most middle class families. I want to leave this earth knowing that the generation behind me is at least solidly middle class, not teetering on the edge.
But more than that, I need to lay a foundation for them to dream. I achieved my dream of being a lawyer. For the generation behind me, having a dream seems almost like a wasteful indulgence. It's almost as if they're afraid to dream, much less reveal any such dream to anyone.
I learned that my nephew dreams of becoming a writer. I had no idea. To say the least, I'm over the moon with the possibility of seeing his work shared with the world. He's afraid that he doesn't write well enough, and I've encouraged him to start blogging and, when in doubt, send his drafts to his auntie, The Writing Diva, and she'll edit them for him like she edits my work on occasion. More than anything, I hope he comes up with a plan for achieving this dream and his dream of home ownership.
In the meantime, I need to really sit my butt in a chair and plan for the future -- not just my future, but my family's. Most of us work for the state of California and have weathered furloughs and, for one of us, layoffs. We've been rocked hard, like most families, during this "Great Recession" even though we didn't engage in the financial foolishness that brought our economy to its knees. We all agree that our family needs a business, another stream of income, so that we will never be subject to the financial wrath of another stupid and despotic governor as we have with Arnold Schwarzenegger. I just need to figure out what that business will be. My hope is that this will be what we leave to the next generation so they will indeed be better off and, above all, able to dream.
And it all begins with a plan. Like my best friend says, "If you fail to plan . . . . "
Time To Get My Hustle On
I came to California state civil service seeking financial stability (even at the risk of a huge pay cut), a less stressful and more congenial way to practice law, and the freedom of not having to do any rainmaking or deal with clients other than an agency.
Did I say I came seeking financial stability?
Well, it seems our Governor wants to cut my pay, and the pay of most state workers within his ham-fisted grasp, by 10% by giving me a Friday off prior to every first and third weekend of the month, starting next month. Mind you, the folks at the Legislature, who he has no control over (and even if he did, he wouldn’t be able to control them anyway), recently received a raise. The state workers who work for agencies controlled by other constitutional officers, well, they’re not taking a hit. The University of California, the California State University system, they’re sitting pretty. But the rest of us, we’re pretty much screwed unless the courts rule otherwise.
Well, thanks but no thanks, Ahnult.
Normally, my outrage would lead me to start organizing fellow state workers who, in my view, have been far too sedate about all this, for example: 1) A “rigid digit” parade around the state capitol, where state workers flip off the Governor and the Legislature; 2) Having state workers show up at all of Ahnult’s public events and the fundraising events of legislators and throw shoes at them – hey, it worked for the folks in Iraq; 3) A “You’re All Full of Shit” protest whereby state workers leave dog poop and used kitty litter on the west steps of the capitol; and finally, 4) An “I got your mf’n furlough right here” protest whereby state workers show up to work, turn on all the lights, computers, etc., and don’t do a damn thing. Now, I know we get accused of that already, but under my protest, it would really be on like Donkey Kong – no phones would get answered, no public information requests would be answered within the requisite time frame. You get it.
But I’m not even going to go there. What this experience has taught me is this: It’s time to get my hustle on.
By that, I mean it’s time to get a side gig, preferably my own business. I’ve always known in my heart that no one should have all their income derived from one source. And I’ve toyed with the idea of getting off into other things and have done so from time to time – I’ve done diversity recruiting, had a law school prep business, etc. – but nothing serious and sustained. I need to nurture my entrepreneurial side and get a side hustle.
My best friend’s father, who was born in the Bahamas, never had fewer than three jobs. Oftentimes he had four. He put his three children through college – Harvard, Stanford, and Hampton, I think. Not shabby at all for someone who didn’t have a high school education himself. He knew, like I now know, that he couldn’t rely on one source of income to do all that he aspired to do. His wife, my best friend’s mom, also had a catering business and did hair.
“Ain’t but a po’ rat got but one hole,” a judge said to my husband upon her retirement. She was referring to housing, but I think her observation could be equally applied to income streams. And I do not intend to be a po’ rat.
Yep, it’s time to get my hustle on. I refuse to have my financial well-being subjected to the whims of stupid leaders and a stupid bureaucracy.
But that doesn’t mean I won’t lob some shoes at Ahnult or some legislators, or leave a “gift” from my dog on the west steps of the state capitol . . . .
Did I say I came seeking financial stability?
Well, it seems our Governor wants to cut my pay, and the pay of most state workers within his ham-fisted grasp, by 10% by giving me a Friday off prior to every first and third weekend of the month, starting next month. Mind you, the folks at the Legislature, who he has no control over (and even if he did, he wouldn’t be able to control them anyway), recently received a raise. The state workers who work for agencies controlled by other constitutional officers, well, they’re not taking a hit. The University of California, the California State University system, they’re sitting pretty. But the rest of us, we’re pretty much screwed unless the courts rule otherwise.
Well, thanks but no thanks, Ahnult.
Normally, my outrage would lead me to start organizing fellow state workers who, in my view, have been far too sedate about all this, for example: 1) A “rigid digit” parade around the state capitol, where state workers flip off the Governor and the Legislature; 2) Having state workers show up at all of Ahnult’s public events and the fundraising events of legislators and throw shoes at them – hey, it worked for the folks in Iraq; 3) A “You’re All Full of Shit” protest whereby state workers leave dog poop and used kitty litter on the west steps of the capitol; and finally, 4) An “I got your mf’n furlough right here” protest whereby state workers show up to work, turn on all the lights, computers, etc., and don’t do a damn thing. Now, I know we get accused of that already, but under my protest, it would really be on like Donkey Kong – no phones would get answered, no public information requests would be answered within the requisite time frame. You get it.
But I’m not even going to go there. What this experience has taught me is this: It’s time to get my hustle on.
By that, I mean it’s time to get a side gig, preferably my own business. I’ve always known in my heart that no one should have all their income derived from one source. And I’ve toyed with the idea of getting off into other things and have done so from time to time – I’ve done diversity recruiting, had a law school prep business, etc. – but nothing serious and sustained. I need to nurture my entrepreneurial side and get a side hustle.
My best friend’s father, who was born in the Bahamas, never had fewer than three jobs. Oftentimes he had four. He put his three children through college – Harvard, Stanford, and Hampton, I think. Not shabby at all for someone who didn’t have a high school education himself. He knew, like I now know, that he couldn’t rely on one source of income to do all that he aspired to do. His wife, my best friend’s mom, also had a catering business and did hair.
“Ain’t but a po’ rat got but one hole,” a judge said to my husband upon her retirement. She was referring to housing, but I think her observation could be equally applied to income streams. And I do not intend to be a po’ rat.
Yep, it’s time to get my hustle on. I refuse to have my financial well-being subjected to the whims of stupid leaders and a stupid bureaucracy.
But that doesn’t mean I won’t lob some shoes at Ahnult or some legislators, or leave a “gift” from my dog on the west steps of the state capitol . . . .
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