Please feel free to copy and paste any part this and pretend it's yours if you think it will help you.
It's Christmastime and I'm thinking over the years and I'm realizing that I am missing people a lot. Some of these people have died and I will not see them again in this lifetime. But some of these people are still walking about the earth having a life that I am not a part of, and they are not a part of mine. Sometimes I know why. It was my fault, I trash talked your fiancé or I figured out the life you were telling me about was a complete fantasy, that I got sucked into. In some cases I am wondering why. I don't know what happened, I don't have a clue, we were so close, and then...nothing. Why? Did I do something? Did my son? Was there an offense or slight that I am not aware of? Does your husband hate me? Was your girlfriend convinced I was not satisfied with friendship? Did I eat the last oreo? Because I have no idea what happened. I only know that I miss you, no matter why you are not here. I think of you often, and when I do, I smile.
So, here's my open letter to the friends who are gone. If you are one of them, then you remember, I do not open that door lightly, once I do, it will remain open. Always. Forever. My friends do not need to apologize. They only need to say "Stay Gold, Ponyboy" ( Autumn and Kristina) or "Hello, Hello, what a wonderful word, Hello. Hello, Hello, Hello, you can hear it wherever you go." (B. Claire and Big Anthony) Or "OOO, I hate that stupid idiot kid next door, Eppy Epperman!"(Ingrid and Angela) If I did not mention your name, do not think that excludes you, I'm just trying to not write a 40 page blog!
Dear Friend,
I miss you. So much has happened since the last time we spoke. My life has taken turns I never would have expected, the biggest one, the loss of you. I remember a time when every inside joke I had, you were a part of. Everything I have become was rooted in the time when we were friends.
Where are you? What are you doing? Do you remember as fondly as I do? Or was there some thing that I was too insensitive to see that has colored every memory you have of us? I wish I knew.
I remember everything, and yes, some of it is not good. It seems to matter very little to me now. I realize, too late perhaps, that I loved you then, I love you now and that is what is missing at my Christmastime. More love. Because there is never enough.
I hope you read this. I hope you know that I loved you then and I will always love you. You know me in ways others never will, never can. You understand me on levels that no longer exist in my life, but are so much my foundation. No one here now knows me in the ways that you do.
Before you go thinking that this is some self affirmation egocentric kick, the truth is, I need to know you are all right. I'm missing you and I'm worrying about you. Probably your life is different than the dreams we made hanging out in the woods, but is it a good different? Are you content? Are you safe? Are you well?
If you ever want to rehash old times or create new ones, my door is always open. I believe that if you call me or email me it will be just as it always was, how could it be otherwise? I love you and miss you, I always will.
My Christmas Wish this year: That all my friends find happiness and the path to my front door.
Sunday, December 15, 2013
Thursday, December 12, 2013
Old People Suck
Today I spent the day with my Grandmother. I don't do this often. She has this way of making me feel badly about myself. Second guessing every decision I've ever made. So today's blog is why old people suck.
1. They're slow.
I kept running ahead to do things for her. I mean, seriously, it was 26 degrees out today. NO, I'm not letting you return the cart to the grocery store, I'm cold, dammit! I can do it myself, and faster than you. You go sit in the car and I'll run it back. This happened twice today. Once at CostCo and once at Giant Eagle. Of course, if she'd have returned it, I'd have been sitting in a nice warm car waiting for her. Hmmmm. Was this a ploy to get me to return the cart and be cold? Or, maybe? Something she could do for me?
2. They're cheap.
Sure, you're going to insist on paying for lunch, at the deli, after I said I wasn't too hungry, and I'm making a heavy dinner tonight and we had samples of everything at CostCo! Sure! You're going to offer to buy lunch, because I'm not really going to order much, so it's not going to be expe...oh, yeah, sure, you know I love some matzo ball soup, I'll try some that you ordered, but really, you can't take me out for a nice lun...pate? I LOVE pate, I never order it though, sure, let me try yours. Oh yes, my lunch was good too, hey, wait a minute, did you just trick me into eating a lot more than I would for lunch? I know you think I'm too skinny, but, what the heck?
3. They're repetitive.
Oh. My. God. Are you really going to tell me this story of how your mom used to cut up your toast for you, but not your brothers or sisters, AGAIN? I've heard it before! And why did you preface it with "I've never told anyone this, but..." Um, yeah, crazy old lady, you have, ME, a couple of times now. That's why I can finish your sentences...hmm. Well, not that I think about it, there are some similarities between us, and you and my sister, and your daughters and sons and...it's feeling like a thread now. If I follow it, I realize we're all attached. Or are you making sure there is a narrator for your life? Is that why I hear the same stories, that you've never told anyone? Are others in the family hearing other stories? Am I the confidante? Are we all? Are you telling the stories to each of us that resonate? WHAT are you doing woman?
4. They're out of touch with modern life.
Fine, I'll come over to fix the lights on your Christmas tree, but I've got to run errands today. Me: "I can't figure this damn light thing out. This is the craziest string of lights I've ever seen. This light is out, but the one to the right is on and the whole strand" Interruption from the Grandmother: "This is really crazy. In this week's football pool your Uncle is ending up with 6 and 4. Those aren't impossible numbers, you understand, but what's crazy is his wife has 4 and 6, isn't that funny? They have opposite numbers." I look up, and there she is, 80something Grandma, on her IPad, setting up the football pool. But she sure can't figure out these damn lights!
5. They're forgetful.
Ok. So I told you I had a ton to do today, and yet, only about 1/3 of my "to do" list is done. You managed to throw off my whole day. Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever. I told you I needed to go to Aunt Denise's to pick up that table, and yet somehow that never happened, and you never mentioned it. I know I don't need the table, but I would like to return the table to the person who lent it to me at some point!
We went to CostCo, Giant Eagle, Lunch and Color me Mine and it was a 7 hour day. All of this I could have had done in 2 hours. I didn't need to wander around CostCo for an hour+, I knew what I needed, I had a list. Yeah, yeah, ok so now I know what to get you for Christmas, and I learned things about Aunt Cindy that I'm happy to know, and I learned some things about your taste I didn't know, but those Christmas cards are not stamping themselves you know!
Giant Eagle? 2 things, I had a list, I always have a list, and yes, I know what kind of ham to buy for Christmas Eve dinner, but so? YOU make Christmas Eve dinner. Who cares what kind of ham to buy? YOU buy the ham. YOU make the ham. How is that ever changing?
Lunch? OK, yeah yeah yeah, so there was a restaurant, it's gone now. You loved it. We ate somewhere else, while I listened to stories about the place that's gone and that I'm never going to eat at. Fine.
Color Me Mine. Damnit. You didn't even pick anything to paint. I offered to buy it for you, I wanted to buy it. I thought maybe you could make something for someone. NO? So fine, I'll sit here and paint. You watch. While some annoying kid runs around screaming and breaking my concentration, and now this is crap, I hate it, well, yeah, I could try that. Hmmm, that might work. Ok, so maybe I salvaged the piece after all. It might be all right. I hope so. That's my sister in law's Christmas gift, if it comes out all right. Good idea. Thanks.
I spent the day with my Grandmother. I didn't get much on my "to do" list done but I got a lot on my "I never did that" list done. It was a priceless day. I'm ashamed that there have not been more of them. I'm hoping to remember that, so I don't miss more of them. I will remember the stories Grandma told me today. I will write them down and share them some day so that my son and nieces know and know the people we came from. At least now, when it's my turn to take over, I know what kind of ham to buy to make for Christmas Eve dinner, I didn't know that before.
1. They're slow.
I kept running ahead to do things for her. I mean, seriously, it was 26 degrees out today. NO, I'm not letting you return the cart to the grocery store, I'm cold, dammit! I can do it myself, and faster than you. You go sit in the car and I'll run it back. This happened twice today. Once at CostCo and once at Giant Eagle. Of course, if she'd have returned it, I'd have been sitting in a nice warm car waiting for her. Hmmmm. Was this a ploy to get me to return the cart and be cold? Or, maybe? Something she could do for me?
2. They're cheap.
Sure, you're going to insist on paying for lunch, at the deli, after I said I wasn't too hungry, and I'm making a heavy dinner tonight and we had samples of everything at CostCo! Sure! You're going to offer to buy lunch, because I'm not really going to order much, so it's not going to be expe...oh, yeah, sure, you know I love some matzo ball soup, I'll try some that you ordered, but really, you can't take me out for a nice lun...pate? I LOVE pate, I never order it though, sure, let me try yours. Oh yes, my lunch was good too, hey, wait a minute, did you just trick me into eating a lot more than I would for lunch? I know you think I'm too skinny, but, what the heck?
3. They're repetitive.
Oh. My. God. Are you really going to tell me this story of how your mom used to cut up your toast for you, but not your brothers or sisters, AGAIN? I've heard it before! And why did you preface it with "I've never told anyone this, but..." Um, yeah, crazy old lady, you have, ME, a couple of times now. That's why I can finish your sentences...hmm. Well, not that I think about it, there are some similarities between us, and you and my sister, and your daughters and sons and...it's feeling like a thread now. If I follow it, I realize we're all attached. Or are you making sure there is a narrator for your life? Is that why I hear the same stories, that you've never told anyone? Are others in the family hearing other stories? Am I the confidante? Are we all? Are you telling the stories to each of us that resonate? WHAT are you doing woman?
4. They're out of touch with modern life.
Fine, I'll come over to fix the lights on your Christmas tree, but I've got to run errands today. Me: "I can't figure this damn light thing out. This is the craziest string of lights I've ever seen. This light is out, but the one to the right is on and the whole strand" Interruption from the Grandmother: "This is really crazy. In this week's football pool your Uncle is ending up with 6 and 4. Those aren't impossible numbers, you understand, but what's crazy is his wife has 4 and 6, isn't that funny? They have opposite numbers." I look up, and there she is, 80something Grandma, on her IPad, setting up the football pool. But she sure can't figure out these damn lights!
5. They're forgetful.
Ok. So I told you I had a ton to do today, and yet, only about 1/3 of my "to do" list is done. You managed to throw off my whole day. Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever. I told you I needed to go to Aunt Denise's to pick up that table, and yet somehow that never happened, and you never mentioned it. I know I don't need the table, but I would like to return the table to the person who lent it to me at some point!
We went to CostCo, Giant Eagle, Lunch and Color me Mine and it was a 7 hour day. All of this I could have had done in 2 hours. I didn't need to wander around CostCo for an hour+, I knew what I needed, I had a list. Yeah, yeah, ok so now I know what to get you for Christmas, and I learned things about Aunt Cindy that I'm happy to know, and I learned some things about your taste I didn't know, but those Christmas cards are not stamping themselves you know!
Giant Eagle? 2 things, I had a list, I always have a list, and yes, I know what kind of ham to buy for Christmas Eve dinner, but so? YOU make Christmas Eve dinner. Who cares what kind of ham to buy? YOU buy the ham. YOU make the ham. How is that ever changing?
Lunch? OK, yeah yeah yeah, so there was a restaurant, it's gone now. You loved it. We ate somewhere else, while I listened to stories about the place that's gone and that I'm never going to eat at. Fine.
Color Me Mine. Damnit. You didn't even pick anything to paint. I offered to buy it for you, I wanted to buy it. I thought maybe you could make something for someone. NO? So fine, I'll sit here and paint. You watch. While some annoying kid runs around screaming and breaking my concentration, and now this is crap, I hate it, well, yeah, I could try that. Hmmm, that might work. Ok, so maybe I salvaged the piece after all. It might be all right. I hope so. That's my sister in law's Christmas gift, if it comes out all right. Good idea. Thanks.
I spent the day with my Grandmother. I didn't get much on my "to do" list done but I got a lot on my "I never did that" list done. It was a priceless day. I'm ashamed that there have not been more of them. I'm hoping to remember that, so I don't miss more of them. I will remember the stories Grandma told me today. I will write them down and share them some day so that my son and nieces know and know the people we came from. At least now, when it's my turn to take over, I know what kind of ham to buy to make for Christmas Eve dinner, I didn't know that before.
Thursday, December 5, 2013
Anger Management
I've read a lot lately on Facebook, blogs, the interwebs. I'm reading a lot of anger. People are angry. About a lot of things. Sweet little old neighbors are getting bullied by ruffians, people of all races, ages, sexes, orientations, religious beliefs, they're all be discriminated against by somebody. Amazing friends who would give you the shirt off their back or last dollar just can't get a break. Taxes are higher, we may not be able to afford milk soon, politicians lie to us. And we're angry. All of us, we're angry, about something, someone, somewhere.
So, I'm reading these things, and I'm getting angry. The author's anger is filling me up and I'm ready to burst until I want to scream STOP! And so I did. And I realized, I was screaming at the writers, not the sufferers.
Because we all suffer. Sometime, Somehow, Someway.
I can't STOP the suffering. We will always suffer. We always be doing not right by somebody. But I can choose to put more good in the world than bad. I can choose to love.
Nothing is ever fixed by anger, my friends. I'm sitting here writing this right now and there is anger happening in my bedroom. Hubby and I have had a tiff. I'm angry, he's angry. Neither one of us is healing. He's in there sulking. I'm in here writing. Why? Because I remembered that I wanted to tell you all this. I wanted to say, anger never fixes anything. If you don't believe me, go ask hubby, I can hear his teeth grinding between 2 closed doors!
Recently I read an awesome article about what I hope to find is an awesome book. It was by a man who befriended many members of the KKK over the years. He wanted to understand them, he wanted them to understand him. And so they did, and friendships were forged. Oh, I forgot to mention, he's black. Here's a link to an article if you'd like to read it, it's on my hopper to read, the book that is: http://www.amerika.org/politics/interview-with-darryl-davis-author-of-klan-destine-relationships/ and then today I watched a video by my favorite you tube personality, Kid President, here's the link to that: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r4_-yXiRcjM&feature=youtu.be
Together, they made me remember, anger solves nothing. But kindness, concern, generosity, understanding, those can solve a whole heck of a lot. Maybe if we don't yell when we're angry, if we take a deep breath and choose to get to know our enemy, they will become a friend, and there will be more love in the world, and that, my friends, is always a good thing.
I've started a new game with one of my friends, maybe you want to play along? ( I know Kid President would play with me if he read this, why? because he's awesome!) With me or with a friend of your own, but here's how it goes. We have pledged that everyday we will text each other with a statement that start with "Today I" and finishes with something that we have done that day to make the world a better place for someone somewhere. This does not have to be a big thing at all. Today I sent: "Today I reminded my friend what he does" My friend sent "Today I am a hero to my kids. Today I listened intently to their adventures." Maybe tomorrow I will see a woman who looks like life has beaten her down and I will find something to compliment, her hair, her shoes, her coat, there's always something nice you can say. And maybe for that moment only her shoulders will be a bit higher, maybe she will smile. But for that moment I will have made the world better. Maybe I'll buy a scratchy game and put it on some random car in the parking lot, or clean the dog poop from some dog out of my neighbors yard because they don't even have a dog and neither do I, or maybe I'll listen to some child's very long, random, pointless story as if it's the most important thing I've ever heard, or send an awesome gift to someone from Kid President's suggestions. So fill the comments section up with your "Today I" send it to me in a message, put on FB. Let's play! We really can make a difference every day, even if just in a small way, besides, sometimes that small thing to you, is a miracle to someone else.
Tonight I'll just go to bed, snuggle in to my angry husband, kiss his head, tell him I love him while he sleeps and remember that anger solves nothing and maybe he'll read this tomorrow and give me a surprise random kiss and remember that anger solves nothing. Both of those things will just put more love in the world. I like the idea, more love in the world.
So, I'm reading these things, and I'm getting angry. The author's anger is filling me up and I'm ready to burst until I want to scream STOP! And so I did. And I realized, I was screaming at the writers, not the sufferers.
Because we all suffer. Sometime, Somehow, Someway.
I can't STOP the suffering. We will always suffer. We always be doing not right by somebody. But I can choose to put more good in the world than bad. I can choose to love.
Nothing is ever fixed by anger, my friends. I'm sitting here writing this right now and there is anger happening in my bedroom. Hubby and I have had a tiff. I'm angry, he's angry. Neither one of us is healing. He's in there sulking. I'm in here writing. Why? Because I remembered that I wanted to tell you all this. I wanted to say, anger never fixes anything. If you don't believe me, go ask hubby, I can hear his teeth grinding between 2 closed doors!
Recently I read an awesome article about what I hope to find is an awesome book. It was by a man who befriended many members of the KKK over the years. He wanted to understand them, he wanted them to understand him. And so they did, and friendships were forged. Oh, I forgot to mention, he's black. Here's a link to an article if you'd like to read it, it's on my hopper to read, the book that is: http://www.amerika.org/politics/interview-with-darryl-davis-author-of-klan-destine-relationships/ and then today I watched a video by my favorite you tube personality, Kid President, here's the link to that: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r4_-yXiRcjM&feature=youtu.be
Together, they made me remember, anger solves nothing. But kindness, concern, generosity, understanding, those can solve a whole heck of a lot. Maybe if we don't yell when we're angry, if we take a deep breath and choose to get to know our enemy, they will become a friend, and there will be more love in the world, and that, my friends, is always a good thing.
I've started a new game with one of my friends, maybe you want to play along? ( I know Kid President would play with me if he read this, why? because he's awesome!) With me or with a friend of your own, but here's how it goes. We have pledged that everyday we will text each other with a statement that start with "Today I" and finishes with something that we have done that day to make the world a better place for someone somewhere. This does not have to be a big thing at all. Today I sent: "Today I reminded my friend what he does" My friend sent "Today I am a hero to my kids. Today I listened intently to their adventures." Maybe tomorrow I will see a woman who looks like life has beaten her down and I will find something to compliment, her hair, her shoes, her coat, there's always something nice you can say. And maybe for that moment only her shoulders will be a bit higher, maybe she will smile. But for that moment I will have made the world better. Maybe I'll buy a scratchy game and put it on some random car in the parking lot, or clean the dog poop from some dog out of my neighbors yard because they don't even have a dog and neither do I, or maybe I'll listen to some child's very long, random, pointless story as if it's the most important thing I've ever heard, or send an awesome gift to someone from Kid President's suggestions. So fill the comments section up with your "Today I" send it to me in a message, put on FB. Let's play! We really can make a difference every day, even if just in a small way, besides, sometimes that small thing to you, is a miracle to someone else.
Tonight I'll just go to bed, snuggle in to my angry husband, kiss his head, tell him I love him while he sleeps and remember that anger solves nothing and maybe he'll read this tomorrow and give me a surprise random kiss and remember that anger solves nothing. Both of those things will just put more love in the world. I like the idea, more love in the world.
Friday, November 29, 2013
The Last Thanksgiving
Dear CEO,
As you debated your bottom lines, profit margins and shareholders, as you weighed out the benefits of opening your doors, phone lines, and web portals on a national holiday, did you consider what you were taking from your low level employees? For many of them, you took their last Thanksgiving; you took from their families their last Thanksgiving. You may have even taken their very last holiday. This year some of your employees will lose a parent, a sibling, a child, or their own life.
Most of you did not join the rank and file in the trenches, you were home, ensconced in the glow and good cheer of your loved ones. You had one more holiday to look around the table and admire the domain you created. You listened to petty arguments and laughed that your Mother always complains about the cranberry sauce your spouse makes wrong, watched your children struggle over the wishbone, and fell into a deep self satisfied sleep.
It is my hope that every low level employee that did not have a choice about working yesterday gives you an account of their losses as the year progresses, that you are made to look in tear filled eyes as they tell you their mother had an unexpected heart attack and is gone. That you have to explain to a small child what "killed by a drunk driver" means and why Daddy is never coming home. That you have to explain why there was no last Thanksgiving.
Justify your decision however you like. But know in your heart of hearts there, will be a price for your avarice. Whether you ever hear what you have taken from the people you depend on, who's backs support your company from the bottom, your very foundation, rest assured, there will be a reckoning.
Wednesday, November 27, 2013
Thanksgetting
I am thankful this year that I do not have a job. While I might miss having as much money as we have in the past and all the things that go along with more income, I do not miss wondering if I will have to work on the holiday.
Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. Have we thought about that? THANKSGIVING. Giving thanks. And yet, so many people will leave their families tomorrow to shop. Don't get me wrong, on one income, I loves me a bargain, but I love my family so much more. I don't want to be anywhere but with them. Listening and sharing stories of loved ones gone, memories from long ago, imparting traditions to my son for him to carry on with his children one day.
Tomorrow, if you are one of those shopping, look at the cashiers, the stock boys, managers wandering the floors. They are there so that you can grab that deal. While you are purchasing that sought after game station or my little pony or cashmere sweater and thinking about what you are saving, please, think about what you are costing the employees. Realize that cashier is maybe a single mother who has left her child in the hands of a friend or Grandparent, so you can buy your child that barbie dream house. That stock boy had to give up a trip home, he's working his way through college, tonight, he'll go home to an empty dorm room, so your son can have the new iPhone.
Yes, they might be getting paid extra, but they also were there hours before you walked in the store, dinner didn't happen for them, while you were serving out the pie, they were serving up signage. If I offered you $100 or $200, would you have left your family, gone without your dinner, missed the parade?
For what? So that we could indulge the greed and avarice we've instilled in our children? When did Christmas become about "give me everything I want"? I assure you, your child will grow up just fine and dandy without a new TV in their bedroom. I know, I know, we all want our children to have more than we had, but more of what? Sure, I remember not getting a pair of guess jeans for Christmas and the year I got red Jordache instead of dark blue. I never had a barbie corvette, sigh.
So what does my son having more mean? It means I am there, my mom always worked, until 2 months ago I always worked. It means I recognize the importance of presence, not presents. I wish my Daddy has seen just one school play, or prom, or, well, anything. (Before you assign too much meaning, my Daddy was in the army, getting home for those things, well, it just wasn't in the cards)
Here's a test, if you think I'm crazy about presents not being important, ask your child what they got last year for Christmas, can they even remember? What about 2 years ago? Or 4? Now ask them something they remember about you. You will open a floodgate, and it will matter to them, and it will teach you about your place in your child's life. Talk to your child, find out what is truly important, and do it by staying home tomorrow and talking to them, to your family, your parents, your nieces and nephews. Talk, spend time, not money. That's what tomorrow is all about, spending time, not money.
Remember, it's Thanksgiving, not ThanksGETTING. If we stay home, maybe the retailers will see that it's not worth it, and next year, those employees will be home celebrating, don't they deserve that, just as much as you and I?
Happy Thanksgiving, to each and everyone. Tomorrow I will be thankful for my family, my life and for all of you who indulge me so! I will be with my family all weekend, I hope you are too.
PS, don't miss the follow up to this, CEOs everywhere, be warned, it's an open letter to you! Enjoy your day home, we all know you didn't give up your holiday, though you expected your employees to, it may be the last one you have in peace if I have anything to say about it. I know, my former CEO will be home, while many are in the office, making his bonus for him. Enjoy, eat up, drink up.
Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. Have we thought about that? THANKSGIVING. Giving thanks. And yet, so many people will leave their families tomorrow to shop. Don't get me wrong, on one income, I loves me a bargain, but I love my family so much more. I don't want to be anywhere but with them. Listening and sharing stories of loved ones gone, memories from long ago, imparting traditions to my son for him to carry on with his children one day.
Tomorrow, if you are one of those shopping, look at the cashiers, the stock boys, managers wandering the floors. They are there so that you can grab that deal. While you are purchasing that sought after game station or my little pony or cashmere sweater and thinking about what you are saving, please, think about what you are costing the employees. Realize that cashier is maybe a single mother who has left her child in the hands of a friend or Grandparent, so you can buy your child that barbie dream house. That stock boy had to give up a trip home, he's working his way through college, tonight, he'll go home to an empty dorm room, so your son can have the new iPhone.
Yes, they might be getting paid extra, but they also were there hours before you walked in the store, dinner didn't happen for them, while you were serving out the pie, they were serving up signage. If I offered you $100 or $200, would you have left your family, gone without your dinner, missed the parade?
For what? So that we could indulge the greed and avarice we've instilled in our children? When did Christmas become about "give me everything I want"? I assure you, your child will grow up just fine and dandy without a new TV in their bedroom. I know, I know, we all want our children to have more than we had, but more of what? Sure, I remember not getting a pair of guess jeans for Christmas and the year I got red Jordache instead of dark blue. I never had a barbie corvette, sigh.
So what does my son having more mean? It means I am there, my mom always worked, until 2 months ago I always worked. It means I recognize the importance of presence, not presents. I wish my Daddy has seen just one school play, or prom, or, well, anything. (Before you assign too much meaning, my Daddy was in the army, getting home for those things, well, it just wasn't in the cards)
Here's a test, if you think I'm crazy about presents not being important, ask your child what they got last year for Christmas, can they even remember? What about 2 years ago? Or 4? Now ask them something they remember about you. You will open a floodgate, and it will matter to them, and it will teach you about your place in your child's life. Talk to your child, find out what is truly important, and do it by staying home tomorrow and talking to them, to your family, your parents, your nieces and nephews. Talk, spend time, not money. That's what tomorrow is all about, spending time, not money.
Remember, it's Thanksgiving, not ThanksGETTING. If we stay home, maybe the retailers will see that it's not worth it, and next year, those employees will be home celebrating, don't they deserve that, just as much as you and I?
Happy Thanksgiving, to each and everyone. Tomorrow I will be thankful for my family, my life and for all of you who indulge me so! I will be with my family all weekend, I hope you are too.
PS, don't miss the follow up to this, CEOs everywhere, be warned, it's an open letter to you! Enjoy your day home, we all know you didn't give up your holiday, though you expected your employees to, it may be the last one you have in peace if I have anything to say about it. I know, my former CEO will be home, while many are in the office, making his bonus for him. Enjoy, eat up, drink up.
Monday, November 18, 2013
Pot Roast Sliders and Other OCD issues
I have grown up in a world I most often don't understand, just like everyone else. I am frequently baffled by the things I see. I learned that you can't count on most things, or most people. I still don't understand why.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying I'm some kind of paragon of virtue. I disappoint my loved ones, make bad choices, forget birthdays just like everyone else. When I do it, I'm just as baffled as when I see someone else do it. I try, very hard and fail often, to live by the maxim "because it's the right thing to do". This doesn't always make me popular, even in my own home. It doesn't make my life easier. Hell, sometimes it doesn't even make me happy. Making the right choice often doesn't.
So I have this thing. Well, a lot of things. Some have short lives and some match my 42 years. They are the things I can't let go of, my go tos. They are the things I count on, that help me make sense of the world. The things that I cling to when I'm confused, or lost, alone, angry, well, anytime I just don't get it. I hold tight to them. They live inside me and I foster them, nurture them, protect them, because they protect me.
This is my life with OCD. I'm not clinically OCD, I don't think. I can function in the world like everyone else, and most people never even see this side of me. IF they do, it's only one the outside, never knowing what's happening in me. I'm a terrific actress when I need to be. It's how I cope when I can't cope. It's how I hold on when the world is flying apart at the seams. I don't pretend to know what OCD is for anyone else, and this isn't a diagnosis to help you understand someone who is clinically OCD. It's just an explanation of my world, maybe it will help you in some way.
We all have things we look forward to or count on. For me, these things can become nonnegotiable. When they don't happen, I'm confused. I'm scared. I get "stuck". I find it hard to move past the thing in front of me to the next thing because this one is wrong. This is where my world makes no sense. This happened to me tonight. We went out to dinner with friends to a restaurant I have been to a number of times. I love this place, they make amazing pot roast sliders. Well, they used to. We had gone there just for drinks and decided to stay to eat. I looked through the menu (I always do, even when I have a "go to" dish, regardless of the fact that I am not ever ordering anything else). The sliders weren't there. I thought it was a mistake. The waiter actually took my hand and held it as he told me that they don't make them anymore. This is not a big deal, to anyone I know but me. Our dining companions laughed, my husband teased to make light of it. I joined in. I made fun of me. What they can't hear is the rush of tornado force winds, the crashing of hurricane seas, the silence of 8 foot high snow drifts, the buzz of locusts across a farm, the decay of epidemic infected flesh, the roar of forests engulfed in flames that has become the soundtrack of my brain in this moment. You see, I thought I could count on those sliders. I thought that was a staple of that menu. Through the mere whim of some chef I have never met, something I count on is gone. Done. Over. Never. If that's not safe, what else am I going to lose?
This is how I feel in those moments. What else will be taken from me? What else will be gone? What else will I lose? I can control nothing, nothing is forever. Does that mean I am not forever? IS there nothing else after this life? Because I was pretty damn sure that I could always have my pot roast sliders and clearly I was wrong about that, and if I was wrong about that, what the hell else am I wrong about? I mean, I was sure I knew for a fact what was going to happen when I die, what happened when my Granny, Daddy, Grandpa, Aunt Donna, Aunt Susie, Aunt Jenny, Aunt Ida, Uncle Sonny, Uncle Richard, Uncle Joe, Uncle Jimmy, Cousin Alan died. Am I wrong? Clearly I was wrong about the pot roast sliders. What the hell! What else did I screw up? What else is going to be gone, never to be seen again, because I thought I was going to see them again. This is just bullshit is what this is. This puts me in a tailspin that will last all night. I will not sleep well. I will spend the night terrified that the world is far more precarious than I had thought it to be. There is less in this world that is dependable than I had thought. Clearly, because you better not be depending on those damned pot roast sliders!
It's a stupid thing. I know. Why put your trust in something you can't control, Richelle. Seriously, I know I have no control over the menu there, but that's the thing, you see. That's the rub. I have no control over it, but if I can still count on it, then there must be something right in the world because some force somewhere knew how I felt and protected me. Yet, that didn't happen, which means no force is protecting me and I just don't want to feel all that kind of alone. I want it to be better than that. I want somethings to be dependable. Especially if here and there I can count on something I have no control over. Everything changes. That's what I'm told. But maybe not. And this is how I protect me. Sometimes things don't change. When they don't, I have found a safety net. A safe place where I know it will be just as it was and will be. Maybe I am right about what happens when we die, because after all, some things don't change. Some things are exactly the same. I always put my left sock on first after all. That hasn't changed. I will have to hold tighter to those things, and look for some new thing to replace the pot roast sliders, (somewhere else of course because they clearly don't understand a damned thing there and I'm just not going back to relive the horror again) until I do, I'm in turmoil. I'm wondering. I'm worrying. I'm scared. I'm stuck. I'm stuck with an empty-no-pot-roast-slider pit in my stomach. (BTW, replacement rueben I ordered? Seriously disappointing!)
So, this is how I will cope. Tonight I will go to sleep thinking about all the things I can count on that don't change. I will list them over and over in my own personal rosary. This is how I will get through it. And trust me, this has not been an easy week for me on this issue! I found out I'm not having a turkey for thanksgiving, we're having capon. I thought "what the hell! I never heard of some third grade pageant that had a thanksgiving capon!" So, I'm working through it. In 42 years of life I've always had a turkey for thanksgiving. This was a go to, a thing to count on. My coping mechanism is to remind myself that my family is having a turkey. I won't be there to eat it, but the turkey is happening. The turkey will happen. (note to self, ask Aunt Neesie to send me a picture of the turkey.) Turkey is happening. This is my new family and I have to learn new things with them. Maybe I'll be ok with it. Ok, who am I kidding, I won't be, but I'll put on a great game face and work it out. In a few years maybe I'll have worked it in to a go to as well. I'll have to, because my husband's happiness is a part of this. I can't ruin a holiday over my issues, and I know this is my issue. And I know few people understand it.
Maybe they do? Maybe you're reading this and thinking of some tradition you can't live without. Something that makes a day a day for you? Or not. I know. You're thinking I'm crazy to be this worked up over pot roast sliders, but I'm telling you, they were amazing!
Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying I'm some kind of paragon of virtue. I disappoint my loved ones, make bad choices, forget birthdays just like everyone else. When I do it, I'm just as baffled as when I see someone else do it. I try, very hard and fail often, to live by the maxim "because it's the right thing to do". This doesn't always make me popular, even in my own home. It doesn't make my life easier. Hell, sometimes it doesn't even make me happy. Making the right choice often doesn't.
So I have this thing. Well, a lot of things. Some have short lives and some match my 42 years. They are the things I can't let go of, my go tos. They are the things I count on, that help me make sense of the world. The things that I cling to when I'm confused, or lost, alone, angry, well, anytime I just don't get it. I hold tight to them. They live inside me and I foster them, nurture them, protect them, because they protect me.
This is my life with OCD. I'm not clinically OCD, I don't think. I can function in the world like everyone else, and most people never even see this side of me. IF they do, it's only one the outside, never knowing what's happening in me. I'm a terrific actress when I need to be. It's how I cope when I can't cope. It's how I hold on when the world is flying apart at the seams. I don't pretend to know what OCD is for anyone else, and this isn't a diagnosis to help you understand someone who is clinically OCD. It's just an explanation of my world, maybe it will help you in some way.
We all have things we look forward to or count on. For me, these things can become nonnegotiable. When they don't happen, I'm confused. I'm scared. I get "stuck". I find it hard to move past the thing in front of me to the next thing because this one is wrong. This is where my world makes no sense. This happened to me tonight. We went out to dinner with friends to a restaurant I have been to a number of times. I love this place, they make amazing pot roast sliders. Well, they used to. We had gone there just for drinks and decided to stay to eat. I looked through the menu (I always do, even when I have a "go to" dish, regardless of the fact that I am not ever ordering anything else). The sliders weren't there. I thought it was a mistake. The waiter actually took my hand and held it as he told me that they don't make them anymore. This is not a big deal, to anyone I know but me. Our dining companions laughed, my husband teased to make light of it. I joined in. I made fun of me. What they can't hear is the rush of tornado force winds, the crashing of hurricane seas, the silence of 8 foot high snow drifts, the buzz of locusts across a farm, the decay of epidemic infected flesh, the roar of forests engulfed in flames that has become the soundtrack of my brain in this moment. You see, I thought I could count on those sliders. I thought that was a staple of that menu. Through the mere whim of some chef I have never met, something I count on is gone. Done. Over. Never. If that's not safe, what else am I going to lose?
This is how I feel in those moments. What else will be taken from me? What else will be gone? What else will I lose? I can control nothing, nothing is forever. Does that mean I am not forever? IS there nothing else after this life? Because I was pretty damn sure that I could always have my pot roast sliders and clearly I was wrong about that, and if I was wrong about that, what the hell else am I wrong about? I mean, I was sure I knew for a fact what was going to happen when I die, what happened when my Granny, Daddy, Grandpa, Aunt Donna, Aunt Susie, Aunt Jenny, Aunt Ida, Uncle Sonny, Uncle Richard, Uncle Joe, Uncle Jimmy, Cousin Alan died. Am I wrong? Clearly I was wrong about the pot roast sliders. What the hell! What else did I screw up? What else is going to be gone, never to be seen again, because I thought I was going to see them again. This is just bullshit is what this is. This puts me in a tailspin that will last all night. I will not sleep well. I will spend the night terrified that the world is far more precarious than I had thought it to be. There is less in this world that is dependable than I had thought. Clearly, because you better not be depending on those damned pot roast sliders!
It's a stupid thing. I know. Why put your trust in something you can't control, Richelle. Seriously, I know I have no control over the menu there, but that's the thing, you see. That's the rub. I have no control over it, but if I can still count on it, then there must be something right in the world because some force somewhere knew how I felt and protected me. Yet, that didn't happen, which means no force is protecting me and I just don't want to feel all that kind of alone. I want it to be better than that. I want somethings to be dependable. Especially if here and there I can count on something I have no control over. Everything changes. That's what I'm told. But maybe not. And this is how I protect me. Sometimes things don't change. When they don't, I have found a safety net. A safe place where I know it will be just as it was and will be. Maybe I am right about what happens when we die, because after all, some things don't change. Some things are exactly the same. I always put my left sock on first after all. That hasn't changed. I will have to hold tighter to those things, and look for some new thing to replace the pot roast sliders, (somewhere else of course because they clearly don't understand a damned thing there and I'm just not going back to relive the horror again) until I do, I'm in turmoil. I'm wondering. I'm worrying. I'm scared. I'm stuck. I'm stuck with an empty-no-pot-roast-slider pit in my stomach. (BTW, replacement rueben I ordered? Seriously disappointing!)
So, this is how I will cope. Tonight I will go to sleep thinking about all the things I can count on that don't change. I will list them over and over in my own personal rosary. This is how I will get through it. And trust me, this has not been an easy week for me on this issue! I found out I'm not having a turkey for thanksgiving, we're having capon. I thought "what the hell! I never heard of some third grade pageant that had a thanksgiving capon!" So, I'm working through it. In 42 years of life I've always had a turkey for thanksgiving. This was a go to, a thing to count on. My coping mechanism is to remind myself that my family is having a turkey. I won't be there to eat it, but the turkey is happening. The turkey will happen. (note to self, ask Aunt Neesie to send me a picture of the turkey.) Turkey is happening. This is my new family and I have to learn new things with them. Maybe I'll be ok with it. Ok, who am I kidding, I won't be, but I'll put on a great game face and work it out. In a few years maybe I'll have worked it in to a go to as well. I'll have to, because my husband's happiness is a part of this. I can't ruin a holiday over my issues, and I know this is my issue. And I know few people understand it.
Maybe they do? Maybe you're reading this and thinking of some tradition you can't live without. Something that makes a day a day for you? Or not. I know. You're thinking I'm crazy to be this worked up over pot roast sliders, but I'm telling you, they were amazing!
Saturday, November 16, 2013
Don't Ask, Don't Tell
Opinions are like a$$holes, everyone has one. Frequently, however, we let our opinions turn us in to a$$holes! I've got an opinion on pretty much everything, I know, big surprise, right? I try to keep my opinions to myself, I fail frequently. The beauty of the blog is that I can get my opinions out and you don't have to read them. Thank you if you do, good for you if you don't! (I actually mean that last part)
What I hadn't stopped to think about until today is how often a well intentioned opinion share can be hurtful. We often think of our opinion as good old advice and offer it up like a surprise Christmas cookie. The difference? I love a surprise Christmas cookie, not so much surprise opinions/advice.
I've recently taken a hiatus from the working world, that's all it is, a break. A few months off is all.
Yesterday my Grandmother very pointedly asked me when I was going back to work. There was no hiding the anger in her voice. No discussion. Her tone was clear, it said "you've had your fun, now go back to work and quit wasting your life and laying around". It was acidic. Eventually I got off the phone and felt terrible. I felt like a lazy good for nothing. I felt less than worth. I sat down feeling dreadful and continued with the task I had interrupted to talk to my Grandma, writing my wedding thank you notes. I finished. I arranged them so my husband could sign them, put them on his desk. My son came home from school. We talked. I made dinner. We all ate. I watched programs with my best friend, something we do every Thursday. I went to bed, with a weight in my stomach.
Today my husband went to work. I got up and started cleaning. As the day went on, I dusted, and thought about my Grandma. I vacuumed, and thought about my Grandma. I cleaned the kitchen, and thought about my Grandma. As the day has gone on I've gotten angrier. At myself. How could I have let someone else make me feel badly? I don't sit around all day doing nothing. I'm busy, working. The house and laundry don't clean themselves, dinner doesn't magically appear on the table, nor groceries in the cupboards. This is the agreement my husband and I made and we are happy with it.
I didn't ask my Grandmother if I should work or not, but she gave me her opinion anyway. As a result, I second guessed myself and spent an entire day feeling badly. A few people have expressed this opinion and I've let it get to me each time. I started to examine this pattern and realized, I get unsolicited advice a lot and I let it bother me!
We so infrequently consider that maybe, just maybe, despite what we would choose for ourselves, that person we're mentally judging, is actually happy living their life that way. Where did we get off thinking we had the only formula in the world for a happy life? That our way is the only way, the right way?
Our well intentioned opinions or advice can be hurtful. We hold in our power the ability to dash another's hopes and dreams, turn a solid foundation into quicksand. We all think we have the right answers without wondering if anyone is even asking the question.
Solution:
If someone asks for advice, please give it and give it honestly. If they don't ask, don't tell.
What I hadn't stopped to think about until today is how often a well intentioned opinion share can be hurtful. We often think of our opinion as good old advice and offer it up like a surprise Christmas cookie. The difference? I love a surprise Christmas cookie, not so much surprise opinions/advice.
I've recently taken a hiatus from the working world, that's all it is, a break. A few months off is all.
Yesterday my Grandmother very pointedly asked me when I was going back to work. There was no hiding the anger in her voice. No discussion. Her tone was clear, it said "you've had your fun, now go back to work and quit wasting your life and laying around". It was acidic. Eventually I got off the phone and felt terrible. I felt like a lazy good for nothing. I felt less than worth. I sat down feeling dreadful and continued with the task I had interrupted to talk to my Grandma, writing my wedding thank you notes. I finished. I arranged them so my husband could sign them, put them on his desk. My son came home from school. We talked. I made dinner. We all ate. I watched programs with my best friend, something we do every Thursday. I went to bed, with a weight in my stomach.
Today my husband went to work. I got up and started cleaning. As the day went on, I dusted, and thought about my Grandma. I vacuumed, and thought about my Grandma. I cleaned the kitchen, and thought about my Grandma. As the day has gone on I've gotten angrier. At myself. How could I have let someone else make me feel badly? I don't sit around all day doing nothing. I'm busy, working. The house and laundry don't clean themselves, dinner doesn't magically appear on the table, nor groceries in the cupboards. This is the agreement my husband and I made and we are happy with it.
I didn't ask my Grandmother if I should work or not, but she gave me her opinion anyway. As a result, I second guessed myself and spent an entire day feeling badly. A few people have expressed this opinion and I've let it get to me each time. I started to examine this pattern and realized, I get unsolicited advice a lot and I let it bother me!
We so infrequently consider that maybe, just maybe, despite what we would choose for ourselves, that person we're mentally judging, is actually happy living their life that way. Where did we get off thinking we had the only formula in the world for a happy life? That our way is the only way, the right way?
Our well intentioned opinions or advice can be hurtful. We hold in our power the ability to dash another's hopes and dreams, turn a solid foundation into quicksand. We all think we have the right answers without wondering if anyone is even asking the question.
Solution:
If someone asks for advice, please give it and give it honestly. If they don't ask, don't tell.
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
Mr. Rogers Forgotten Words: "To Me"
Remember I told you I love Mr. Rogers. He is, and always will be, my favorite person. I value him as a friend and I value his relationship with my son. How has he managed to damage so many children? Oh, he has. So many parents have not been listening carefully to him. Many have forgotten that every word is important and has a place and meaning. To Me. Forgetting these two words is ruining our children!
Every child needs someone in their corner. Every child needs to know how important and valued they are. What they don't need is to believe that the world is going to feel that way about them. We need to prepare our children to be disliked, to be one of many, to be passed over, to lose, to fail because those things will happen and when they do we should want our children to be strong, to press on and to keep their self esteem intact. Mr. Rogers said "You are special to me". He believed every person is precious, but not everyone is Mr. Rogers. Your child is going to meet those not-Mr.-Rogers far more than not.
How did my generation forget those very important 2 words? To Me. I know they did. I'm surrounded by children with an attitude of entitlement all the time. Children who have no concept of being told "no", think they should be in the middle of every adult conversation, and expect a reward for every little thing they do. Look, here's the truth, your kid ain't that special! My kid ain't that special! Well, yes he is, To Me. Why do I feel forced to think other people's children are awesome. Some of them are. I know some really terrific youngsters. I also know some really irritating ones. Quit telling your children they are the most wonderful thing ever! They're not. They're human and filled with flaws just like every other child out there.
My son is special. To me. I don't expect him to be special to you. He doesn't expect to be special to you. He's not yours. He has to earn that place in your life. It's not a right. By the way, your kid has to earn it in mine. I refuse to think your kid is all that and a bag of chips just because they managed to come out of you! Birth does not make them wonderful. We need to quit letting our children think that breathing in and out all day is some sort of accomplishment.
Look, for those of you rolling your eyes at me and thinking how wrong I am because you know darn well your child is the most amazing thing to have ever graced the earth with the imprint of their feet, let me remind you that you don't really think that and knew it before that kid even got here. If this child of yours is so gosh darn amazing, why did you (or their birth mother if they're adopted) expend so much energy forcing that kid to get out of you! Children are smart, they let the mother do all the work because they don't want to be here, here is not a friendly kindly place. So we push and push and push, in my case he had to be pulled out with forceps he was so determined to stay where it was nice and safe! Remember that. This amazing little piece of grace that tears around your house had to be pushed out into this world. Keep pushing. Out and away! Push them to be wonderful and full of wonder.
Remember those words, use them all the time, "To Me". Tell your children how fantastic they are, special, unique, beautiful, to you. Let them know they've got you in their corner, be their biggest cheerleader! But please don't teach them that rest of us feel that way about them. Teach them that for every other person in the world, they have to work hard to earn that place. I don't love Mr. Rogers because he walked around on the world and was on T.V. I love him because he worked so hard to leave the world better than he found it. He earned my love and respect. He did not expect it or demand it. The only person that will love your child just for breathing is you, don't forget that. Don't let your child forget that. Remember to say "To Me". When your child is fortunate enough to earn the love of someone else, celebrate that triumph, be proud, and remember, once you've earned love and respect, you have to keep earning it, it's not a given.
So, I will leave you with the words to the song as a reminder and some links so you can go visit your old neighborhood. Read them, sing them in your head, sing them to your child. Be grateful that you had a friend named Mr. Rogers who loved you, that your child has the same friend. If no one else likes you, he does!
Every child needs someone in their corner. Every child needs to know how important and valued they are. What they don't need is to believe that the world is going to feel that way about them. We need to prepare our children to be disliked, to be one of many, to be passed over, to lose, to fail because those things will happen and when they do we should want our children to be strong, to press on and to keep their self esteem intact. Mr. Rogers said "You are special to me". He believed every person is precious, but not everyone is Mr. Rogers. Your child is going to meet those not-Mr.-Rogers far more than not.
How did my generation forget those very important 2 words? To Me. I know they did. I'm surrounded by children with an attitude of entitlement all the time. Children who have no concept of being told "no", think they should be in the middle of every adult conversation, and expect a reward for every little thing they do. Look, here's the truth, your kid ain't that special! My kid ain't that special! Well, yes he is, To Me. Why do I feel forced to think other people's children are awesome. Some of them are. I know some really terrific youngsters. I also know some really irritating ones. Quit telling your children they are the most wonderful thing ever! They're not. They're human and filled with flaws just like every other child out there.
My son is special. To me. I don't expect him to be special to you. He doesn't expect to be special to you. He's not yours. He has to earn that place in your life. It's not a right. By the way, your kid has to earn it in mine. I refuse to think your kid is all that and a bag of chips just because they managed to come out of you! Birth does not make them wonderful. We need to quit letting our children think that breathing in and out all day is some sort of accomplishment.
Look, for those of you rolling your eyes at me and thinking how wrong I am because you know darn well your child is the most amazing thing to have ever graced the earth with the imprint of their feet, let me remind you that you don't really think that and knew it before that kid even got here. If this child of yours is so gosh darn amazing, why did you (or their birth mother if they're adopted) expend so much energy forcing that kid to get out of you! Children are smart, they let the mother do all the work because they don't want to be here, here is not a friendly kindly place. So we push and push and push, in my case he had to be pulled out with forceps he was so determined to stay where it was nice and safe! Remember that. This amazing little piece of grace that tears around your house had to be pushed out into this world. Keep pushing. Out and away! Push them to be wonderful and full of wonder.
Remember those words, use them all the time, "To Me". Tell your children how fantastic they are, special, unique, beautiful, to you. Let them know they've got you in their corner, be their biggest cheerleader! But please don't teach them that rest of us feel that way about them. Teach them that for every other person in the world, they have to work hard to earn that place. I don't love Mr. Rogers because he walked around on the world and was on T.V. I love him because he worked so hard to leave the world better than he found it. He earned my love and respect. He did not expect it or demand it. The only person that will love your child just for breathing is you, don't forget that. Don't let your child forget that. Remember to say "To Me". When your child is fortunate enough to earn the love of someone else, celebrate that triumph, be proud, and remember, once you've earned love and respect, you have to keep earning it, it's not a given.
So, I will leave you with the words to the song as a reminder and some links so you can go visit your old neighborhood. Read them, sing them in your head, sing them to your child. Be grateful that you had a friend named Mr. Rogers who loved you, that your child has the same friend. If no one else likes you, he does!
| You are my friend You are special You are my friend You're special to me. You are the only one like you. Like you, my friend, I like you. In the daytime In the nighttime Any time that you feel's the right time For a friendship with me, you see F-R-I-E-N-D special You are my friend You're special to me. There's only one in this wonderful world You are special. |
| You Are Special By Fred M. Rogers © 1967 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yXEuEUQIP3Q http://pbskids.org/rogers/ http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mister_Rogers'_Neighborhood http://www.fci.org |
Sunday, November 10, 2013
I love Mr. Rogers.
Today on FB someone posted a link to 6 things you might not know about Mr. Rogers. I smiled, I knew 5 of them. Why? Because I love Mr. Rogers. My most prized possession in the world is a signed copy of the Koko the Gorilla episode script. He's my favorite person. If I can look at my son one day and think "Mr. Rogers has taught you well." I will have done my job as a mother.
How did so many people screw up his message? I grew up with Mr. Rogers. I trusted him. I waited for him. No matter what happened in my life, I could count on him. He was always there, every day at the same time, doing the same things. He was a constant in a world that was not.
I introduced my son to Mr. Rogers. The best thing I could say to correct any misbehavior in my young child was "what would Mr. Rogers say if he could see you right now?" This always brought him to near tears. He could not stand the thought of disappointing Mr. Rogers. I learned this the day after we watched the escalator episode and my 3 year old started walking up the down escalator. All I had to say was "and after Mr. Rogers just told you not to do that." He almost cried and begged me not to call Mr. Rogers and tell on him. He never tried to walk the wrong way on an escalator again. I'd forgotten this. My son is now 17 and full of himself. He knows everything. If you don't believe me, just ask him, he'll tell you.
So today I go to the link, I read the stories, I smile. I scroll down. These are the captions I saw for the next "stories": "The Most Glorious Breast GIF's", "The Most Perfect Butt GIF of All Time", "Human Barbie Meets Her Match", "Want a Bar Rafeali Sex Tape?" and more. I was offended. I was angry. It was the perfect underline to what we have become. I showed it to my husband, he was not happy. I showed it to my son. He was detached. He began to explain why. How those sites don't go anywhere, it's a marketing thing, blah blah blah. And so I said those words I have not said in years. "What would Mr. Rogers say if he could see you now?". My son put his head down and looked at his feet. He was ashamed.
Mr. Rogers is still the very best I can set up for my son. For a moment he wanted, and tried, to tell me why those site links were ok. And then he remembered, it's not. What would Mr. Rogers say to see such a thing? I'm sure I can't even begin to guess. I'm sure he would find a way to make the site manager feel good about himself as a person. I'm sure he would find a way to make me love the site manager. I'm sure I'm no Mr. Rogers, but I want to be.
I asked earlier how did we screw up his message. So far there's no screw up in this blog. I want to write about that, and I will. Today, let me love Mr. Rogers. Let me remember that man who was a constant. Tomorrow we will talk about how nobody really listened to him. But today, today, I love Mr. Rogers. I hope you loved him. I hope for a moment you remember him and want to be like him. I do. Today I want us all to think about Mr. Rogers, what he meant to us, who he was, what we learned. Today find a moment to bring out your Mr. Rogers. Tomorrow, tomorrow we will talk about how he screwed you up and you didn't listen. I can't include myself in this one, I can't say we. I did hear him, I took his lesson to heart. Tomorrow I'll tell what he said, what you heard, and maybe you'll realize you weren't listening. Today, we love Mr. Rogers. Tomorrow, maybe you'll listen.
Friday, November 8, 2013
Anti Social Media
We are not friends. It's important that you understand this. We are not friends. I read your blog, you read mine, we look at our facebook posts, tweets, instagrams. We are not friends. I am quite distracted that we now use this word as a verb. It's not a verb. If you're having trouble believing me, please feel free to look it up. The word is a noun. It is what you may or may not be to me, or me to you. Friend denotes a place a person holds in our life. We use it as a verb, "Oh, make sure you friend me." or "Here, let me grab my phone and friend you now." When the act is accomplished, we are still not friends.
Let me digress for just a moment to help you understand. When my son was very little I faced the daunting task of trying to explain what a stranger is. 3 year olds have such a limited grasp on vocabulary, it's quite difficult. You cannot say "it's someone you don't know". To a child that means only that you don't know a person's name. Some weirdo says "Hi, I'm Jim." and the child thinks they now know this person, after all, he's Jim. I told my son a stranger was any person who had never been in our home and who's home we had never been in as well. It seemed a good way to deal with the issue and it always worked. It protected him from handymen and passing acquaintances. I'm 42 years old and have just remembered this advice.
A friend should still be such a cherished thing. None of us have as many as we like and are always surprised to find that one you thought was a friend is not. We made the word a verb and did not attach strong requirements to it, no definition. You are not my friend because you looked at my wedding pictures on facebook and read my comments stating just how happy the day made me. You still know nothing about it at all. You do not know my deep thoughts for that day, who was there, what surprised me, was I scared, am I happy now. You know really nothing. My friends came to wish us well that day. Those who could not, called to wish us well and hear all the details. They sent cards. They made dinner plans at a later date to celebrate with us. They came to our home, they invited us to theirs. They found a way to share in the moment, there or not. These are our friends.
We read so much on the anti social media pages and we mistakenly think we know these people. Seeing what you had for lunch, how many diapers your baby used today, pictures from your vacation, venomous attacks on your ex-boyfriend, these tell me very little about your heart and your hopes. This is where my friends live. In my heart and in my hopes. This is how I love them. We love our friends. We don't voyeur their lives. We participate in them. At least we should. These sites are creating an anti social mentality. We read so much, we assume we know what's happening and we don't make time to find out. We've been hoodwinked. We don't have cocktail parties, dinner parties. We don't go out for a night with friends, see a play, go to a gallery, watch the game. We don't pick up the phone for a good long catch up. All that time we spend scrolling through the anti social media pages and we could have made a phone call and a real connection. Connections, there are so few of them in our lives anymore. We've all seen those pictures floating on the net with a group of people all out to eat and each one is scrolling an anti social media page or texting someone who is not at the table. We all laugh, we all say how terrible it is, but we do it too.
So, Anti Social Media. That's what it is. All those outlets of information only trick us into thinking we have a social life will all those strangers, but that's what so many of them are for us, strangers. All we are really doing is sharing information and very little of it at that. Just the facts ma'am, not the feelings or emotions or the privacy. Do not let it trick you. These are not your friends either. These are people with whom we only share the least important parts of our lives. If you want to test my theory, that we are moving to a world of anti social behavior, try this trick. Type the word "facebook" then type the word "friend", see which one your autocorrect capitalizes. Then decide which one is capital F for you.
We are not friends. I'd like us to be, my door is always open. Give me a call, invite me out, invite yourself over, have a cocktail party! Go forth in the world and be social. Go forth in the world and make Friends.
Let me digress for just a moment to help you understand. When my son was very little I faced the daunting task of trying to explain what a stranger is. 3 year olds have such a limited grasp on vocabulary, it's quite difficult. You cannot say "it's someone you don't know". To a child that means only that you don't know a person's name. Some weirdo says "Hi, I'm Jim." and the child thinks they now know this person, after all, he's Jim. I told my son a stranger was any person who had never been in our home and who's home we had never been in as well. It seemed a good way to deal with the issue and it always worked. It protected him from handymen and passing acquaintances. I'm 42 years old and have just remembered this advice.
A friend should still be such a cherished thing. None of us have as many as we like and are always surprised to find that one you thought was a friend is not. We made the word a verb and did not attach strong requirements to it, no definition. You are not my friend because you looked at my wedding pictures on facebook and read my comments stating just how happy the day made me. You still know nothing about it at all. You do not know my deep thoughts for that day, who was there, what surprised me, was I scared, am I happy now. You know really nothing. My friends came to wish us well that day. Those who could not, called to wish us well and hear all the details. They sent cards. They made dinner plans at a later date to celebrate with us. They came to our home, they invited us to theirs. They found a way to share in the moment, there or not. These are our friends.
We read so much on the anti social media pages and we mistakenly think we know these people. Seeing what you had for lunch, how many diapers your baby used today, pictures from your vacation, venomous attacks on your ex-boyfriend, these tell me very little about your heart and your hopes. This is where my friends live. In my heart and in my hopes. This is how I love them. We love our friends. We don't voyeur their lives. We participate in them. At least we should. These sites are creating an anti social mentality. We read so much, we assume we know what's happening and we don't make time to find out. We've been hoodwinked. We don't have cocktail parties, dinner parties. We don't go out for a night with friends, see a play, go to a gallery, watch the game. We don't pick up the phone for a good long catch up. All that time we spend scrolling through the anti social media pages and we could have made a phone call and a real connection. Connections, there are so few of them in our lives anymore. We've all seen those pictures floating on the net with a group of people all out to eat and each one is scrolling an anti social media page or texting someone who is not at the table. We all laugh, we all say how terrible it is, but we do it too.
So, Anti Social Media. That's what it is. All those outlets of information only trick us into thinking we have a social life will all those strangers, but that's what so many of them are for us, strangers. All we are really doing is sharing information and very little of it at that. Just the facts ma'am, not the feelings or emotions or the privacy. Do not let it trick you. These are not your friends either. These are people with whom we only share the least important parts of our lives. If you want to test my theory, that we are moving to a world of anti social behavior, try this trick. Type the word "facebook" then type the word "friend", see which one your autocorrect capitalizes. Then decide which one is capital F for you.
We are not friends. I'd like us to be, my door is always open. Give me a call, invite me out, invite yourself over, have a cocktail party! Go forth in the world and be social. Go forth in the world and make Friends.
Friday, October 25, 2013
I lie to my husband about everything.
I do, and he loves it. We also have a marriage based on trust. No topic is safe. I lie about drug use, alcohol abuse, molestation, physical abuse, mental and physical health issues, checking account balances, credit card debt, sexual orientation and preferences, criminal activity, jail time, theology, even infidelity. It's not just him I lie to, I lie to everybody. Everybody knows. Everybody loves me for it.
I lie because I have to, my integrity demands it. My husband may look out the front door to see me talking on the phone with so-and-so, pacing the sidewalk, a serious look on my face, maybe sadness. When I come in and he asks "How's so-and-so doing?". I answer "Great!". He knows I'm lying. If so-and-so is doing great, why did I look so upset? He doesn't ask. This is his cue, I'm lying because so-and-so has asked me to keep a confidence.
A friend of mine began a conversation with "I know I can trust you to keep my confidence...". I've been thinking about that for a while now. It's a great phrase, "keeping a confidence", but how often do we really examine those words and think about what they mean? It's more than just keeping a secret, it's giving others the ability to keep confidence in your trustworthiness, protectiveness, respect, kindness, generosity, understanding, giving your family and friends the ability to keep confidence in you.
I hear so many people say "I tell my husband/wife/girlfriend/boyfriend everything". If you do, then you're truly a terrible friend/sibling/child/etc.! There are some things you had better learn to keep to yourself. People trust me. I want to keep that trust. There was nothing in my vows that said "I promise to tell you everything about everybody we know even when they ask me not to." We're married. I married him, no one else did, which means he has no rights to other people's privacy, just mine.
We share private information all too easily. We've taken away boundaries to the point that when they are requested we do a poor job of maintaining them. Pictures on Instagram that we have no business sharing, fights with family members on Facebook, attacks on the neighbors on Twitter. Is it any wonder that when someone shares something private and personal it ends up public knowledge? Sometimes it seems innocent enough, you can tell your co worker about the dirty laundry your best friend just dumped on you, they're never going to meet, where's the harm? The harm is, whether your friend ever finds out you shared their private information or not, you broke the confidence they placed in you.
We also don't consider how sharing the information might color the view for someone else. To the best of my knowledge, no one I know is having an affair right now, so I'll use that as an example. Let's pretend I have a friend named Suri. Suri comes to me and tells me, in confidence, that she just found out her husband had an affair. They're going to counseling, they're determined to work through it, she just needed to share the burden with someone. I've listened, I'm going to support my friend's decision whether I agree with it or not, it's not my place to judge. Now, I come home and tell my husband. How is that going to change his view of Suri or her husband? What will that do to the friendship dynamic they all had before? My husband has very strong views on infidelity. It may ruin something that should have been fine. For all I know, Suri and her husband are going to get through this swimmingly and by telling, I've not only ruined the view my husband had of them, but I've also broken trust. If they wanted my husband, or my hairdresser, or my checkout girl at the grocery store, or my Grandmother to know they would have told them!
So here we are, on a 3 hour driving trip. My husband was dozing and I was thinking about issues other people are going through and how grateful I am for the life we are having at this moment. Sure, we have struggles, but we can handle them, others around us are not so lucky right now. He woke up and asked me what I was thinking about that made me look so sadly. I told him I was thinking about something private someone had recently told me and feeling badly for them. He said "who?", I just smiled. He went through a list of a few people and I just kept smiling, not answering him. Finally I said, "We're fine. I'm not thinking about us. I'm also not going to tell you what I'm thinking about, it's not your business. It was told to me in confidence." He dropped it right then. Why? Because I keep his confidence and he knows how valuable that can be.
I want everyone around us to feel confident in me. The best way to do that is to keep their confidence. Trust is so hard to earn, so easy to lose, almost impossible to rebuild and worth everything if you can find it.
So, the next time you're entrusted with something private, keep it to yourself. And lie to your significant other about it! If the confidence was meant for them, they would be told as well.
I lie because I have to, my integrity demands it. My husband may look out the front door to see me talking on the phone with so-and-so, pacing the sidewalk, a serious look on my face, maybe sadness. When I come in and he asks "How's so-and-so doing?". I answer "Great!". He knows I'm lying. If so-and-so is doing great, why did I look so upset? He doesn't ask. This is his cue, I'm lying because so-and-so has asked me to keep a confidence.
A friend of mine began a conversation with "I know I can trust you to keep my confidence...". I've been thinking about that for a while now. It's a great phrase, "keeping a confidence", but how often do we really examine those words and think about what they mean? It's more than just keeping a secret, it's giving others the ability to keep confidence in your trustworthiness, protectiveness, respect, kindness, generosity, understanding, giving your family and friends the ability to keep confidence in you.
I hear so many people say "I tell my husband/wife/girlfriend/boyfriend everything". If you do, then you're truly a terrible friend/sibling/child/etc.! There are some things you had better learn to keep to yourself. People trust me. I want to keep that trust. There was nothing in my vows that said "I promise to tell you everything about everybody we know even when they ask me not to." We're married. I married him, no one else did, which means he has no rights to other people's privacy, just mine.
We share private information all too easily. We've taken away boundaries to the point that when they are requested we do a poor job of maintaining them. Pictures on Instagram that we have no business sharing, fights with family members on Facebook, attacks on the neighbors on Twitter. Is it any wonder that when someone shares something private and personal it ends up public knowledge? Sometimes it seems innocent enough, you can tell your co worker about the dirty laundry your best friend just dumped on you, they're never going to meet, where's the harm? The harm is, whether your friend ever finds out you shared their private information or not, you broke the confidence they placed in you.
We also don't consider how sharing the information might color the view for someone else. To the best of my knowledge, no one I know is having an affair right now, so I'll use that as an example. Let's pretend I have a friend named Suri. Suri comes to me and tells me, in confidence, that she just found out her husband had an affair. They're going to counseling, they're determined to work through it, she just needed to share the burden with someone. I've listened, I'm going to support my friend's decision whether I agree with it or not, it's not my place to judge. Now, I come home and tell my husband. How is that going to change his view of Suri or her husband? What will that do to the friendship dynamic they all had before? My husband has very strong views on infidelity. It may ruin something that should have been fine. For all I know, Suri and her husband are going to get through this swimmingly and by telling, I've not only ruined the view my husband had of them, but I've also broken trust. If they wanted my husband, or my hairdresser, or my checkout girl at the grocery store, or my Grandmother to know they would have told them!
So here we are, on a 3 hour driving trip. My husband was dozing and I was thinking about issues other people are going through and how grateful I am for the life we are having at this moment. Sure, we have struggles, but we can handle them, others around us are not so lucky right now. He woke up and asked me what I was thinking about that made me look so sadly. I told him I was thinking about something private someone had recently told me and feeling badly for them. He said "who?", I just smiled. He went through a list of a few people and I just kept smiling, not answering him. Finally I said, "We're fine. I'm not thinking about us. I'm also not going to tell you what I'm thinking about, it's not your business. It was told to me in confidence." He dropped it right then. Why? Because I keep his confidence and he knows how valuable that can be.
I want everyone around us to feel confident in me. The best way to do that is to keep their confidence. Trust is so hard to earn, so easy to lose, almost impossible to rebuild and worth everything if you can find it.
So, the next time you're entrusted with something private, keep it to yourself. And lie to your significant other about it! If the confidence was meant for them, they would be told as well.
Thursday, October 17, 2013
Underwear
Let's talk about underwear, the under rated undergarment. My underwear is frequently a topic of conversation. You can't see my underwear, I certainly don't run around with my panties creeping up past the waist of my jeans, but I'm very outspoken about them. I hang my bra and panties in sets in the closet! Why? 1. It makes it so easy to just grab a set and get dressed rather than dig around a drawer! and 2. It's my favorite part of my wardrobe. We all know beauty is beneath the surface, well, so is underwear!
I'm not sure who taught the women of the world that pretty panties are for special occaisions only, but life is a special occasion, every day! Let's celebrate with our underwear! I'm also not sure who taught these same women that pretty panties are not comfortable or that you only need 5 bras. Hello! There are more than 5 days in the week! And why do we, as women, think it's ok to grab any bra and any panties from the drawer and throw them on? You wouldn't do that with a pair of pants and a shirt and hope for the best! Put some thought into it, girls! Match them! Be pretty! You wouldn't do that on that "special" night with your boyfriend, husband, girlfriend, whomever, would you? Plan every day as if it's that night, who knows, with any luck, it just might turn into that night!
So, what's the deal with my underwear? My underwear is awesome, everyday. I worked at Victoria's Secret for a short time. This is what I learned: When a woman came in to buy some pretty little something for her anniversary, wedding day, special date night I noticed she never walked out the way she walked in. Something about that little pink on pink bag put a smile on her face, a spring in her step. Shoulders were straighter, head a bit higher, a little Mona Lisa smirk. I wondered about this. Oh sure, I could explain the importance of being properly fitted every year, the craftsmanship in a good bra, color choice, blah blah. What I couldn't explain was the look, the confidence. I started to wonder, if a red bra and panty set in a bag could do that, what happens when you're wearing it? At the time I bought my underwear in packs. As an employee we periodically got special offers, I might have worked there, but I couldn't afford to shop there! When my first special offer day came, I bought it. A goldenrod lace and satin bra and panty set with a choice of panty styles. I bought my very first thong, I was 26 years old. It changed my life, truly it did.
That weekend I went, as I often did, dancing with my friends. We weren't there to pick up men, just dance. I wore the same black and white dress that I had worn a million times before, and my new panty set. As I got dressed, I felt it, sexy. I didn't look in the mirror, I just put on my new thong and matching lacy bra. There was no mistaking it, I felt like I was the sexiest thing ever, I must've been, after all, I was wearing a thong! Only sexy women wear thongs! We went dancing and for the first time I felt I could have any man there, no matter that I didn't want a man, I was happy on my own for the first time in my life.
My love affair with my underthings began that night. It became a mission. Sure, I couldn't buy where I worked, my Marshalls had undies, TJMaxx had undies. I began looking and realized I could afford pretty things. I also found that more than all cotton was comfortable! I added lacy things, satiny things, silky things, thongs, g-strings, boy shorts, bikini briefs, hipsters, demi-cup, french, push up, water, full coverage. In no time I had a under wardrobe and an over wardrobe. I paid attention to the brands, finding the ones that fit me best and were comfortable. Here's how comfortable those sexy pretty little things can be: I sleep in my bra every night in an effort to fight gravity and not one of the bothers me! Not all undies are comfy, but you can find the ones that are, same as I did, and not go broke doing it!
That was 16 years ago and I am still in love with my underwear. I've learned that it doesn't really matter what my outerwear is, because I know what my underwear is. A pair of sweats and an old sweater is covering a black and red lacy set. My favorite jeans and college sweatshirt covers a pink satin with white bows set. My best pinstripe suit is hiding a polka dot set. Don't let that tea dress fool you, there's a white lace set with red stripes under it! The thing is this, I know what the pretty underneath is, and it doesn't matter if anyone else does, I know how pretty I feel. I finally got what Victoria's Secret is.
I spent 5 years decidedly single. Learning to live with and love me. And then Brian came into my life. Now we're married, and guess what, he loves my underwear! No matter what has happened during the day, at the end, I'm going to get undressed and put on my jammies, but there is that moment where I feel sexy and he sees something pretty or sexy or naughty, or whatever choice I made that morning and we are both happy. That doesn't mean we're going to engage, if you will, it just means that for a moment, we both know I went to a little trouble, for both of us. Even if we're too done up for the day. It's just a little thing, but isn't that what life is made up of? One little thing after another that adds up a a beautiful sculpture that is your life?
So, women of the world: Reclaim your under beauty! Whether you are single, married, whatever, remember, you are a woman, and a beautiful one at that! Feel it! It starts with your underwear.
Men of the world: Quit being afraid of the lingerie section! Go find something to show the woman in your life that she should feel pretty all the time, because she is!
I'm not sure who taught the women of the world that pretty panties are for special occaisions only, but life is a special occasion, every day! Let's celebrate with our underwear! I'm also not sure who taught these same women that pretty panties are not comfortable or that you only need 5 bras. Hello! There are more than 5 days in the week! And why do we, as women, think it's ok to grab any bra and any panties from the drawer and throw them on? You wouldn't do that with a pair of pants and a shirt and hope for the best! Put some thought into it, girls! Match them! Be pretty! You wouldn't do that on that "special" night with your boyfriend, husband, girlfriend, whomever, would you? Plan every day as if it's that night, who knows, with any luck, it just might turn into that night!
So, what's the deal with my underwear? My underwear is awesome, everyday. I worked at Victoria's Secret for a short time. This is what I learned: When a woman came in to buy some pretty little something for her anniversary, wedding day, special date night I noticed she never walked out the way she walked in. Something about that little pink on pink bag put a smile on her face, a spring in her step. Shoulders were straighter, head a bit higher, a little Mona Lisa smirk. I wondered about this. Oh sure, I could explain the importance of being properly fitted every year, the craftsmanship in a good bra, color choice, blah blah. What I couldn't explain was the look, the confidence. I started to wonder, if a red bra and panty set in a bag could do that, what happens when you're wearing it? At the time I bought my underwear in packs. As an employee we periodically got special offers, I might have worked there, but I couldn't afford to shop there! When my first special offer day came, I bought it. A goldenrod lace and satin bra and panty set with a choice of panty styles. I bought my very first thong, I was 26 years old. It changed my life, truly it did.
That weekend I went, as I often did, dancing with my friends. We weren't there to pick up men, just dance. I wore the same black and white dress that I had worn a million times before, and my new panty set. As I got dressed, I felt it, sexy. I didn't look in the mirror, I just put on my new thong and matching lacy bra. There was no mistaking it, I felt like I was the sexiest thing ever, I must've been, after all, I was wearing a thong! Only sexy women wear thongs! We went dancing and for the first time I felt I could have any man there, no matter that I didn't want a man, I was happy on my own for the first time in my life.
My love affair with my underthings began that night. It became a mission. Sure, I couldn't buy where I worked, my Marshalls had undies, TJMaxx had undies. I began looking and realized I could afford pretty things. I also found that more than all cotton was comfortable! I added lacy things, satiny things, silky things, thongs, g-strings, boy shorts, bikini briefs, hipsters, demi-cup, french, push up, water, full coverage. In no time I had a under wardrobe and an over wardrobe. I paid attention to the brands, finding the ones that fit me best and were comfortable. Here's how comfortable those sexy pretty little things can be: I sleep in my bra every night in an effort to fight gravity and not one of the bothers me! Not all undies are comfy, but you can find the ones that are, same as I did, and not go broke doing it!
That was 16 years ago and I am still in love with my underwear. I've learned that it doesn't really matter what my outerwear is, because I know what my underwear is. A pair of sweats and an old sweater is covering a black and red lacy set. My favorite jeans and college sweatshirt covers a pink satin with white bows set. My best pinstripe suit is hiding a polka dot set. Don't let that tea dress fool you, there's a white lace set with red stripes under it! The thing is this, I know what the pretty underneath is, and it doesn't matter if anyone else does, I know how pretty I feel. I finally got what Victoria's Secret is.
I spent 5 years decidedly single. Learning to live with and love me. And then Brian came into my life. Now we're married, and guess what, he loves my underwear! No matter what has happened during the day, at the end, I'm going to get undressed and put on my jammies, but there is that moment where I feel sexy and he sees something pretty or sexy or naughty, or whatever choice I made that morning and we are both happy. That doesn't mean we're going to engage, if you will, it just means that for a moment, we both know I went to a little trouble, for both of us. Even if we're too done up for the day. It's just a little thing, but isn't that what life is made up of? One little thing after another that adds up a a beautiful sculpture that is your life?
So, women of the world: Reclaim your under beauty! Whether you are single, married, whatever, remember, you are a woman, and a beautiful one at that! Feel it! It starts with your underwear.
Men of the world: Quit being afraid of the lingerie section! Go find something to show the woman in your life that she should feel pretty all the time, because she is!
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