Yesterday, I was doing laundry. I hate laundry. I hate nearly everything about it. I hate sorting it. I hate putting it in the washer. I hate transferring it to the dryer. I hate hanging up all the things that I don’t want to shrink.
I hate folding the laundry and putting it away. And, I really hate matching the socks! Which we all know never get matched 100%. There are always orphaned socks – always.
So, that being said… I was doing my daughter’s laundry. And, I was hit with a revelation.
No longer was I folding little onesies, cute pink dresses in gingham, or socks so small they would only fit my pinky.
I was folding clothes – t-shirts that I would wear. (No, they would not fit me but I would wear them if they did). There were hip jeans and funky sweatshirts. Name brands like Gap, Hollister, Aeropastle, etc… No more Kmart, Walmart, Target.
Clothes matter now.
But, as I was folding all of these cool clothes – it hit me. It certainly does not seem like that much time has passed since I was scrubbing out formula from a brand new Gymboree outfit. It seems like yesterday, I was using Dreft detergent and washing all of the new clothes before my daughter ever wore them.
Where did all of that time go?
All of those days, months, years that I longed to be passed the many frustrating stages of growing up. Anxiously waiting until she would sleep through the night, when she would sit-up, when she would crawl, when she would walk, when she would drink from a sippee cup, when she could feed herself, when she would be potty-trained, when she would go to pre-school so I could have a break, when she would start Kindergarten, when she would dress herself… always waiting for what was next and sadly, never really taking time to enjoy what she was already doing.
Now, I am folding these clothes and wondering where my baby went.
She came home from school yesterday and told me, “Mom, next week we have the ‘talk’ and ‘THE movie.”
Yes, gone are the diapers and here come the feminine hygiene products. Where the Hell did all that time go?
Last Sunday, after seeing my daughter flounder with reading – we went to Amazon and searched for some books. Abby has always had a hard time finding a series that she enjoyed. Okay, the truth is – she doesn’t really like to read. And, we have been desperate to find some author who would finally hold her attention and inspire her to read.
My last ditch effort was Judy Blume so I ordered “Are You There God? It Is Me Margaret.”
Yes, I have my own selfish reasons for this – I am hoping it will spark “that” conversation. A segue to all those things no one really wants to address… And, okay, a part of me, hopes the book will teach her everything she needs to know and I can just bow out of the whole thing.
Yes, at 39 years old, I am very uncomfortable having that talk. My mom never had it with me and I don’t know what to say.
I should know what to say – because I was a teenager who participated in things that I shouldn’t have… I am not naïve to the realities of junior high and high school. And, I really wish that I would have had a more open relationship with my mom.
But it is hard… It is hard to realize that Abby isn’t wearing onesies anymore, that she isn’t just potty trained and walking – she is about to enter puberty – she is about to go to 6th grade where boyfriends and kissing take place.
There are going to be notes passed and texting and school dances. She is going to like a boy who won’t like her back and her heart will break many times. She is going to question herself and her beliefs and she is going to make decisions that could change her life forever.
Maybe that is why the conversation is so difficult because it feels like there is so much riding on what I say or don’t say. How much is too much? How little is too little? How much is about abstinence and how much is on protection? How stern should I be – and how open should I be so that she is comfortable coming to me for help?
Right now, she seems so immature, so naïve… realizing that in just 6 months when she goes to Jr. High she will be overwhelmed by issues that she never dreamt of – is gut wrenching.
For the first time, I am not anxious to see her advance to the next stage of growing up.
As I folded the last shirt and brought the laundry to her room – decorated with stuffed animals and a tree mural – I lost my breath.
Looking at the new comforter and accessories piled in bags in the corner for her “new” room, I realize change is coming…whether I want it to or not.
Friday, January 29, 2010
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Truths: “Ripped from the Headlines”
I was just driving back from taking my four dogs to the groomer. Not only is it a stressful event for them and me – but the bill is going to break the bank! However, I cannot have four hairy dogs without giving them the basic necessities: baths!
On my way home with the radio playing – the announcers were discussing a recent newsworthy bit out of Georgia. There is a woman, who after seeing her son’s report card,told him to get out his hamster and made him kill it by smashing it with a hammer.
I cannot even fathom the reality of this! Everyone calling in agreed that the child should be removed from the mother’s care and the mother should go to jail for causing such an emotionally tragic event and for the inhumane treatment of the hamster.
Not one called and said she should be able to keep her son after what she did. Everyone expressed completed contempt for the woman and all agreed that she was fostering a horrendous future for the child. Would he end up the next serial killer? What did she do to him besides this? It would be hard to believe that this was the first time she acted out so cruelly.
It is an absolute horrid newstory…and yet, it certainly is not one of the first stories detailing parents being cruel and unjust to their children. And, even sadder, is that there is more of a chance that this woman will end keeping her son or getting him back – than losing him altogether. Because, that is the kind of society we, embarrassingly, live in.
Stories, like these, make my stomach turn and cause me to re-examine our society’s morals… What normal person would even think of this form of punishment for a bad report card? How about no TV or being grounded for a week? Wouldn’t that be more of the norm – shouldn’t it be more of the norm?
We are afraid to let kids lose in organized sports and yet, we turn a blind eye to such unimaginable situations some kids are forced to endure. What the Hell is wrong with us?
A few of my dear friends are giving serious consideration to opening up their homes and their families to children of Haiti. They are having long talks at the dinner tables about the possibilities of adopting one of the thousands of children left without parents.
My friends have wonderful, stable lives that they could share with these children. They could provide not only the bare necessities but, a lifetime of love and opportunity.
They don’t seem to care about the age or the sex of the child – they just want to “do their part” – to do what feels right to them – all out of the good of their hearts.
I applaud their generosity, their unconditional love. I admire their intent. What, would seem to me a selfless act of endearing kindness – is something they consider as a gift to themselves – a child to love and to care for.
So, when I hear about parents who are abusing their children – like this hamster mom in Georgia – I want to scream from the rooftops – because this idiot of a mother gets to pro-create whenever she wants and gets to bring children into this world who she is only going to neglect and abuse.
While, my friends, who are loving parents will be going through yards of red tape to adopt a needy child in Haiti. They will have to jump through hoops to show that they are “worthy” of one of these children and sadly, it could take months, years before a homeless child of Haiti would actually enter their home and become part of their family.
And, yet, this yahoo of a mother gets to keep her kid, continue to abuse him AND she can have more children whenever she wants.
I am not saying that I have the answers – and I don’t mean to sound like we need some socialist or dictator type government that tells us what to do – but there must be some way to create a more sensible playing field. Some type of fairness to discourage those who are unfit from having any more children and to encourage loving people to adopt by making it easier.
While the families here in the US are desperately trying to bring Haitian children here to love and care for, thousands of orphaned Haitian children are eagerly awaiting a home – a family to love them, a bed to sleep in, a roof over their head and warm food to nourish them – and they will have to wait months to get it.
There is no way that it makes sense.
All while some nasty mother in Georgia has her son smash his beloved pet with a hamster over a bad report card…
Something has to give.
On my way home with the radio playing – the announcers were discussing a recent newsworthy bit out of Georgia. There is a woman, who after seeing her son’s report card,told him to get out his hamster and made him kill it by smashing it with a hammer.
I cannot even fathom the reality of this! Everyone calling in agreed that the child should be removed from the mother’s care and the mother should go to jail for causing such an emotionally tragic event and for the inhumane treatment of the hamster.
Not one called and said she should be able to keep her son after what she did. Everyone expressed completed contempt for the woman and all agreed that she was fostering a horrendous future for the child. Would he end up the next serial killer? What did she do to him besides this? It would be hard to believe that this was the first time she acted out so cruelly.
It is an absolute horrid newstory…and yet, it certainly is not one of the first stories detailing parents being cruel and unjust to their children. And, even sadder, is that there is more of a chance that this woman will end keeping her son or getting him back – than losing him altogether. Because, that is the kind of society we, embarrassingly, live in.
Stories, like these, make my stomach turn and cause me to re-examine our society’s morals… What normal person would even think of this form of punishment for a bad report card? How about no TV or being grounded for a week? Wouldn’t that be more of the norm – shouldn’t it be more of the norm?
We are afraid to let kids lose in organized sports and yet, we turn a blind eye to such unimaginable situations some kids are forced to endure. What the Hell is wrong with us?
A few of my dear friends are giving serious consideration to opening up their homes and their families to children of Haiti. They are having long talks at the dinner tables about the possibilities of adopting one of the thousands of children left without parents.
My friends have wonderful, stable lives that they could share with these children. They could provide not only the bare necessities but, a lifetime of love and opportunity.
They don’t seem to care about the age or the sex of the child – they just want to “do their part” – to do what feels right to them – all out of the good of their hearts.
I applaud their generosity, their unconditional love. I admire their intent. What, would seem to me a selfless act of endearing kindness – is something they consider as a gift to themselves – a child to love and to care for.
So, when I hear about parents who are abusing their children – like this hamster mom in Georgia – I want to scream from the rooftops – because this idiot of a mother gets to pro-create whenever she wants and gets to bring children into this world who she is only going to neglect and abuse.
While, my friends, who are loving parents will be going through yards of red tape to adopt a needy child in Haiti. They will have to jump through hoops to show that they are “worthy” of one of these children and sadly, it could take months, years before a homeless child of Haiti would actually enter their home and become part of their family.
And, yet, this yahoo of a mother gets to keep her kid, continue to abuse him AND she can have more children whenever she wants.
I am not saying that I have the answers – and I don’t mean to sound like we need some socialist or dictator type government that tells us what to do – but there must be some way to create a more sensible playing field. Some type of fairness to discourage those who are unfit from having any more children and to encourage loving people to adopt by making it easier.
While the families here in the US are desperately trying to bring Haitian children here to love and care for, thousands of orphaned Haitian children are eagerly awaiting a home – a family to love them, a bed to sleep in, a roof over their head and warm food to nourish them – and they will have to wait months to get it.
There is no way that it makes sense.
All while some nasty mother in Georgia has her son smash his beloved pet with a hamster over a bad report card…
Something has to give.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Tails: A Necessary Commitment
Yesterday, Thorp, my Chinese Crested Powder Puff dog – the one who was a puppy mill breeding dog for over 4 years sat on my lap.
Who cares…
It is not that he has never sat on my lap before it is that he reminded me of something that is really important to the both of us… when we first rescued him – he was a mess. Not just physically but emotionally, he was a train wreck!
He would shake constantly anytime he was introduced to a new room in the house. He had no idea of how to use the stairs. For a long time, he would run to laundry room when he got scared.
He was terrified of people and was completely unsure of the outside. Grass was foreign to him and let’s not even talk about his housetraining issues!
Nearly all puppy mill survivors who are rescued come with this type of baggage. But, the thing is – he was my first and that made a huge impact on me.
I would cry when I would wake up and see him next to me – thinking about what he survived and feeling horrible for the ones still stuck in the unimaginable horror.
As time went on… Thorp followed me everywhere and any chance he got he was sitting on my lap. Eventually, he started to understand that people really were nice and he gained self-confidence. (We won’t talk about the house training…still not necessarily 100%)
It will be 2 years in March since I rescued him for $60.00 at a puppy mill auction. And, I think both of us have grown leaps and bounds.
The thing is – as Thorp has evolved it has become increasingly apparent that he would make an outstanding therapy dog. He gives love so eagerly and I know that he would never hurt a soul.
I truly believe that Thorp was born to be a therapy dog. He is filled with a tenderness that amazes me.
Once I knew that this was his fate in life – I started looking in organizations who certify therapy dogs to work in hospitals, nursing homes, libraries, etc.
Thorp and I went to obedience school to get him started and we attended a class on what it takes to be a therapy dog.
BUT…then Penelope came along – my 2nd mill dog survivor and the dynamics of our family changed and Penelope became the center of attention because, she too, was a train wreck.
Thorp and I derailed and the possibility of becoming a therapy dog slipped away.
So, yesterday, when Thorp sat on my lap – he reminded me that he wants to be a therapy dog. He layed next to me, looking into my eyes – telling me it was time.
With Penelope adjusted and no more mill dogs coming – it is time. So, I looked up the next testing dates and have planned to go to a trainer to get Thorp and me up to speed.
By this summer, Thorp will be a therapy dog.
However, the last 24 hours also reminded me the importance of staying on track – of reminding yourself what your goals are and that it is so easy to lose sight of them in the day to day grind.
For me, beyond the desire to become active with Thorp as a therapy dog – I want to write a book – a book I started 2 years ago. And even though I have well over 100 pages written – I have let so many things come between me and finishing it.
It is hard to prioritize so many things in life – but all too often, I think we forego our real dreams and busy ourselves with what is really less meaningful.
Yesterday, Thorp not only reminded me that it was time to complete the therapy dog certification – he reminded me that it was time to make what matters to me important and to get working on the things that I allowed myself to drown out. Not tomorrow, but today.
Who cares…
It is not that he has never sat on my lap before it is that he reminded me of something that is really important to the both of us… when we first rescued him – he was a mess. Not just physically but emotionally, he was a train wreck!
He would shake constantly anytime he was introduced to a new room in the house. He had no idea of how to use the stairs. For a long time, he would run to laundry room when he got scared.
He was terrified of people and was completely unsure of the outside. Grass was foreign to him and let’s not even talk about his housetraining issues!
Nearly all puppy mill survivors who are rescued come with this type of baggage. But, the thing is – he was my first and that made a huge impact on me.
I would cry when I would wake up and see him next to me – thinking about what he survived and feeling horrible for the ones still stuck in the unimaginable horror.
As time went on… Thorp followed me everywhere and any chance he got he was sitting on my lap. Eventually, he started to understand that people really were nice and he gained self-confidence. (We won’t talk about the house training…still not necessarily 100%)
It will be 2 years in March since I rescued him for $60.00 at a puppy mill auction. And, I think both of us have grown leaps and bounds.
The thing is – as Thorp has evolved it has become increasingly apparent that he would make an outstanding therapy dog. He gives love so eagerly and I know that he would never hurt a soul.
I truly believe that Thorp was born to be a therapy dog. He is filled with a tenderness that amazes me.
Once I knew that this was his fate in life – I started looking in organizations who certify therapy dogs to work in hospitals, nursing homes, libraries, etc.
Thorp and I went to obedience school to get him started and we attended a class on what it takes to be a therapy dog.
BUT…then Penelope came along – my 2nd mill dog survivor and the dynamics of our family changed and Penelope became the center of attention because, she too, was a train wreck.
Thorp and I derailed and the possibility of becoming a therapy dog slipped away.
So, yesterday, when Thorp sat on my lap – he reminded me that he wants to be a therapy dog. He layed next to me, looking into my eyes – telling me it was time.
With Penelope adjusted and no more mill dogs coming – it is time. So, I looked up the next testing dates and have planned to go to a trainer to get Thorp and me up to speed.
By this summer, Thorp will be a therapy dog.
However, the last 24 hours also reminded me the importance of staying on track – of reminding yourself what your goals are and that it is so easy to lose sight of them in the day to day grind.
For me, beyond the desire to become active with Thorp as a therapy dog – I want to write a book – a book I started 2 years ago. And even though I have well over 100 pages written – I have let so many things come between me and finishing it.
It is hard to prioritize so many things in life – but all too often, I think we forego our real dreams and busy ourselves with what is really less meaningful.
Yesterday, Thorp not only reminded me that it was time to complete the therapy dog certification – he reminded me that it was time to make what matters to me important and to get working on the things that I allowed myself to drown out. Not tomorrow, but today.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Tails and Truths: Random Thoughts
I am at a loss for a definitive blog today - but I do have some updates on previous ones.
You might recall my preachy sermon on the idiocies of the adoption process when looking to save an animal in need. The cumbersome paperwork, the nerve racking home visits, the agony of being denied. While I am in rescue - I am ashamed of what some of the requirements are just for someone who wants to give the dog a second chance - possibly its only chance.
I, recently, gave thought to getting involved in a breed specific rescue - and when I read their adoption requirements - I changed my mind... I figured if I would not be allowed to adopt from them (and I wouldn't) how can I volunteer there and expect people to listen to me when I would have deny them an adoption.
A friend of mine sent me this link to a wonderful blog today - and while the video clip in it will make you laugh - it brings (sad) tears to me eyes.
http://btoellner.typepad.com/kcdogblog/2010/01/improving-customer-service-imperative-to-increasing-adoptions.html
How true...how very sad...
*****
My blog yesterday was about the way we protect our kids from loss in sports - such as not keeping score... You might also remember a blog I did a few weeks ago about the enlightening experience I had while watching amazing individuals with disabilities play great basketball...
Well, last night there was another game during my daughter's practice - and once again - the players were incredible. So kind to one another and so excited to play. And, they are GOOD - really GOOD...
But my point is - the one team was up by over 30 points and they still kept keeping score... and right before the buzzer went off the winning team scored, yet, one more basket.
They never turned off the scoreboard when the points became so far apart - and when the winning team scored that last basket even though they were up by a landslide - the other team did not whine that it was unsportsmanlike conduct "to rub the loss in their face." (Like the Cowboys did this week when playing the Vikings).
No, these players played with dignity, integrity and utter grace. They played the game like the game should be played.
We often protect individuals with special needs - we have this innate feeling to shelter them - and yet, here they were facing every possible reality of playing a sport... while our other not-challenged - not to mention - our professional players (making millions) are the ones crying about losing...
I say, "Suck it up!"
*********
Here is one last funny for the day... Me and cooking. They do not go together. I think I have alluded to this before - but here is a bit more of the reality...
I was cooking last night - something I do about twice a week... and this is why. I was taking the chicken and pork chops (I don't eat anything that comes from a pig) and I burnt myself... I burnt myself on the pan because I only use a thin towel to take it out...and then while I was trying to remove the chicken from the aluminum foil, I burnt myself again by placing my finger on the foil (I guess that gets hot, too). That one really hurt.
On top of that - I had left the metal spoon in the rice pot and when I went to stir the rice - yep, the spoon was scorching.
With the 3rd scream of the night - my husband finally came over and finished for me... My fingers were on fire - and I was running them under cold water.
"This is why I don't cook!" I said to Bill... Who I am certain shook his head and rolled his eyes while I wasn't looking.
He knows better... Once when were renovating our cabin and the guy came to install the stove - my husband told him - "don't worry about it working - my wife only got it because a stove should be in the kitchen - she will never use it."
I have used it...and I am positive that I burnt myself then, too.
I am an educated person... and yet, cooking is beyond me. It always sounds so heartwarming - brings people together for a great meal, etc... But, I find myself watching others eat while I soak my finger(s) in ice water. Like I did last night!
You might recall my preachy sermon on the idiocies of the adoption process when looking to save an animal in need. The cumbersome paperwork, the nerve racking home visits, the agony of being denied. While I am in rescue - I am ashamed of what some of the requirements are just for someone who wants to give the dog a second chance - possibly its only chance.
I, recently, gave thought to getting involved in a breed specific rescue - and when I read their adoption requirements - I changed my mind... I figured if I would not be allowed to adopt from them (and I wouldn't) how can I volunteer there and expect people to listen to me when I would have deny them an adoption.
A friend of mine sent me this link to a wonderful blog today - and while the video clip in it will make you laugh - it brings (sad) tears to me eyes.
http://btoellner.typepad.com/kcdogblog/2010/01/improving-customer-service-imperative-to-increasing-adoptions.html
How true...how very sad...
*****
My blog yesterday was about the way we protect our kids from loss in sports - such as not keeping score... You might also remember a blog I did a few weeks ago about the enlightening experience I had while watching amazing individuals with disabilities play great basketball...
Well, last night there was another game during my daughter's practice - and once again - the players were incredible. So kind to one another and so excited to play. And, they are GOOD - really GOOD...
But my point is - the one team was up by over 30 points and they still kept keeping score... and right before the buzzer went off the winning team scored, yet, one more basket.
They never turned off the scoreboard when the points became so far apart - and when the winning team scored that last basket even though they were up by a landslide - the other team did not whine that it was unsportsmanlike conduct "to rub the loss in their face." (Like the Cowboys did this week when playing the Vikings).
No, these players played with dignity, integrity and utter grace. They played the game like the game should be played.
We often protect individuals with special needs - we have this innate feeling to shelter them - and yet, here they were facing every possible reality of playing a sport... while our other not-challenged - not to mention - our professional players (making millions) are the ones crying about losing...
I say, "Suck it up!"
*********
Here is one last funny for the day... Me and cooking. They do not go together. I think I have alluded to this before - but here is a bit more of the reality...
I was cooking last night - something I do about twice a week... and this is why. I was taking the chicken and pork chops (I don't eat anything that comes from a pig) and I burnt myself... I burnt myself on the pan because I only use a thin towel to take it out...and then while I was trying to remove the chicken from the aluminum foil, I burnt myself again by placing my finger on the foil (I guess that gets hot, too). That one really hurt.
On top of that - I had left the metal spoon in the rice pot and when I went to stir the rice - yep, the spoon was scorching.
With the 3rd scream of the night - my husband finally came over and finished for me... My fingers were on fire - and I was running them under cold water.
"This is why I don't cook!" I said to Bill... Who I am certain shook his head and rolled his eyes while I wasn't looking.
He knows better... Once when were renovating our cabin and the guy came to install the stove - my husband told him - "don't worry about it working - my wife only got it because a stove should be in the kitchen - she will never use it."
I have used it...and I am positive that I burnt myself then, too.
I am an educated person... and yet, cooking is beyond me. It always sounds so heartwarming - brings people together for a great meal, etc... But, I find myself watching others eat while I soak my finger(s) in ice water. Like I did last night!
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Truths: Youth Sports: The Demise Of Professional Athletes?
My daughter plays basketball and soccer and over the years it has amazed me how these sports work.
Sure, it starts at the age of 5 when they are all learning how to play and no one keeps score: it is all about having fun.
Except, all of the parents are keeping score and when their future all star asks them who won – they tell them.
Last year, during basketball they had a timer and scor board but never used the scoreboard for the girls league. Yet, they did use the scoreboard for the same age boys league.
What ever happened to women’s rights? Do boys handle losing better than girls? Are girls so fragile that they can’t be equally competitive? I think not.
And, again, regardless of what the league chose to do the parents were keeping score anyway.
Just a few weeks ago, at one of our indoor soccer games – the most ridiculous thing happened to date. My blood boiled… Our team was winning, something we don’t do very often. And, it just so happened that we were winning by a lot.
However, once the score was 6-0 – they quit keeping score. They didn’t want the other team to feel bad – yet, we were still shooting goals? Do they really think that the other team wasn’t keeping score, anyway?
Why not stop the game instead of just stopping the score? Shouldn’t our team be proud of their accomplishments? Isn’t that what learning sports is also about?
(I swear that even if my daughter was on the losing team, I would fight for the same thing.) I despise how we protect our children from the harsh realities of life: losing.
This weekend an even stranger thing occurred – flat out cheating. Our girls played their hearts out and lost. The team we were playing was outstanding. Their kicks had so much power and while our girls did a great job on defense it was near impossible to stop them.
We lost and they did keep score. Yet, when the girls came to all of the parents, they told us that they won the game? Huh?
Yeah, it turns out that other team had nearly all 12 plus year olds playing and was disqualified for cheating. ( no wonder their kicks were so strong!)
I was dumfounded by this – we can’t keep score but we can cheat our way through a game?
I understand the philosophy behind protecting kids and just wanting them to learn a sport and enjoy playing – but the truth is sports are undeniably a win or lose event. And, whether there is a scoreboard or not to keep track – everyone in the stands is. Not to mention the kids on either of the teams.
It is about winning and it should be or why break a sweat?
So, beyond the idiocy of youth sports – I was absolutely appalled this weekend by a NFL game. I already can’t remember what teams were playing, but one team was creaming the other and in the last few minutes of the game the winning team chose to score another touchdown.
Now, this touchdown actually gave that quarterback a new record so it was important but the losing team cried like babies because they felt like it was unsportsmanlike conduct for the other team to score and “rub it in their face.”
One of the sports announcers even agreed.
Are you fricking kidding me? These players are earning millions of dollars and they can’t suck it up? Not to mention, if you don’t want the other team to score – then play better defense!
So, I ask – couldn’t this behavior be what we are actually are teaching kids when we protect them from the score of a game?
Are we making them bad losers? Are our kids going to be whining 20 years from now in professional sports because the other team won by a landslide?
Gosh, I hope not. If my daughter was on that losing NFL team and cried that it was unfair – I would be embarrassed and I would immediately remember the game where we protected the other team from “knowing” it was a slaughter.
Sure, it starts at the age of 5 when they are all learning how to play and no one keeps score: it is all about having fun.
Except, all of the parents are keeping score and when their future all star asks them who won – they tell them.
Last year, during basketball they had a timer and scor board but never used the scoreboard for the girls league. Yet, they did use the scoreboard for the same age boys league.
What ever happened to women’s rights? Do boys handle losing better than girls? Are girls so fragile that they can’t be equally competitive? I think not.
And, again, regardless of what the league chose to do the parents were keeping score anyway.
Just a few weeks ago, at one of our indoor soccer games – the most ridiculous thing happened to date. My blood boiled… Our team was winning, something we don’t do very often. And, it just so happened that we were winning by a lot.
However, once the score was 6-0 – they quit keeping score. They didn’t want the other team to feel bad – yet, we were still shooting goals? Do they really think that the other team wasn’t keeping score, anyway?
Why not stop the game instead of just stopping the score? Shouldn’t our team be proud of their accomplishments? Isn’t that what learning sports is also about?
(I swear that even if my daughter was on the losing team, I would fight for the same thing.) I despise how we protect our children from the harsh realities of life: losing.
This weekend an even stranger thing occurred – flat out cheating. Our girls played their hearts out and lost. The team we were playing was outstanding. Their kicks had so much power and while our girls did a great job on defense it was near impossible to stop them.
We lost and they did keep score. Yet, when the girls came to all of the parents, they told us that they won the game? Huh?
Yeah, it turns out that other team had nearly all 12 plus year olds playing and was disqualified for cheating. ( no wonder their kicks were so strong!)
I was dumfounded by this – we can’t keep score but we can cheat our way through a game?
I understand the philosophy behind protecting kids and just wanting them to learn a sport and enjoy playing – but the truth is sports are undeniably a win or lose event. And, whether there is a scoreboard or not to keep track – everyone in the stands is. Not to mention the kids on either of the teams.
It is about winning and it should be or why break a sweat?
So, beyond the idiocy of youth sports – I was absolutely appalled this weekend by a NFL game. I already can’t remember what teams were playing, but one team was creaming the other and in the last few minutes of the game the winning team chose to score another touchdown.
Now, this touchdown actually gave that quarterback a new record so it was important but the losing team cried like babies because they felt like it was unsportsmanlike conduct for the other team to score and “rub it in their face.”
One of the sports announcers even agreed.
Are you fricking kidding me? These players are earning millions of dollars and they can’t suck it up? Not to mention, if you don’t want the other team to score – then play better defense!
So, I ask – couldn’t this behavior be what we are actually are teaching kids when we protect them from the score of a game?
Are we making them bad losers? Are our kids going to be whining 20 years from now in professional sports because the other team won by a landslide?
Gosh, I hope not. If my daughter was on that losing NFL team and cried that it was unfair – I would be embarrassed and I would immediately remember the game where we protected the other team from “knowing” it was a slaughter.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Truths: Girlfriends…….and friends?
Ironically, a week after our book club meeting on the “Girls from Ames,” I went out with some of my college friends.
They planned a train crawl from Palatine all the way to Woodstock. They came here first for dinner and a few drinks. And, so, I met them here.
This was a little unusual for us, as each of them brought other friends they have met in their “adult” lives or in-laws from their marriages.
It is very rare that our gatherings include people outside of the group – and I have to admit it was a little strange. A little off kilter.
Don’t get me wrong… all of the women were super nice and conversation with them was great.
I am all for meeting new people and I did enjoy their company.
BUT, it just was not the same. And, that is when I came to the conclusion about the difference between girlfriends and friends.
My college friends who came up last night I have known for over 20 years (I guess that gives my age away). We have shared so many crazy, personal, and embarrassing moments.
We have cried and laughed and been there through divorce, illness, death and numerous births.
And, while it is great to bring new people to our times together – it is also very…difficult.
We don’t get to see each other very often and when we do – we have so much to say – and yet, there is so much not spoken but understood. It is impossible to convey that in a group made up of outsiders.
Last night, as we mingled. I could see the look in all of our eyes that something was missing. We were not able to finish each other sentences or laugh at inside jokes.
The other (great women) were standing in between us both physically and emotionally.
I believe that our normal little get together was strained. And, all of the things we wanted to say – we never got to.
I remember looking at Tina from across the table and just knowing that she felt the same way. It was as though I could see the words she wanted to say coming out of her mouth and then abruptly stopping because no one else on our side of the table would understand.
Sure, we drank and laughed – and the night was not a complete bomb by any stretch of the imagination - it was just different and left me yearning to see my girlfriends again so that we could all bare what is really going on in our lives to people who know us better than we know ourselves – instead of just random conversation.
Sometimes, I think that is why it is hard to make new friends…because so much of who we are is left out – coveted, really.
There is this safe give and take – and it appears to take so long to be yourself and to trust new people with who you really are and what you believe in.
Old friends are like childhood blankets – they keep us warm and they have been everywhere with us. And, we always feel safe when they are near.
Sure, I want to make new friends and meeting the other women last night gave me the potential to make new friends with them.
But, last night I wanted my girlfriends – I wanted to talk about stuff – I wanted to hear what was REALLY going in their lives –
and yes, I wanted them to finish my sentences and to laugh about old times because we don’t get to do that very often – and it is what the I cherish.
They planned a train crawl from Palatine all the way to Woodstock. They came here first for dinner and a few drinks. And, so, I met them here.
This was a little unusual for us, as each of them brought other friends they have met in their “adult” lives or in-laws from their marriages.
It is very rare that our gatherings include people outside of the group – and I have to admit it was a little strange. A little off kilter.
Don’t get me wrong… all of the women were super nice and conversation with them was great.
I am all for meeting new people and I did enjoy their company.
BUT, it just was not the same. And, that is when I came to the conclusion about the difference between girlfriends and friends.
My college friends who came up last night I have known for over 20 years (I guess that gives my age away). We have shared so many crazy, personal, and embarrassing moments.
We have cried and laughed and been there through divorce, illness, death and numerous births.
And, while it is great to bring new people to our times together – it is also very…difficult.
We don’t get to see each other very often and when we do – we have so much to say – and yet, there is so much not spoken but understood. It is impossible to convey that in a group made up of outsiders.
Last night, as we mingled. I could see the look in all of our eyes that something was missing. We were not able to finish each other sentences or laugh at inside jokes.
The other (great women) were standing in between us both physically and emotionally.
I believe that our normal little get together was strained. And, all of the things we wanted to say – we never got to.
I remember looking at Tina from across the table and just knowing that she felt the same way. It was as though I could see the words she wanted to say coming out of her mouth and then abruptly stopping because no one else on our side of the table would understand.
Sure, we drank and laughed – and the night was not a complete bomb by any stretch of the imagination - it was just different and left me yearning to see my girlfriends again so that we could all bare what is really going on in our lives to people who know us better than we know ourselves – instead of just random conversation.
Sometimes, I think that is why it is hard to make new friends…because so much of who we are is left out – coveted, really.
There is this safe give and take – and it appears to take so long to be yourself and to trust new people with who you really are and what you believe in.
Old friends are like childhood blankets – they keep us warm and they have been everywhere with us. And, we always feel safe when they are near.
Sure, I want to make new friends and meeting the other women last night gave me the potential to make new friends with them.
But, last night I wanted my girlfriends – I wanted to talk about stuff – I wanted to hear what was REALLY going in their lives –
and yes, I wanted them to finish my sentences and to laugh about old times because we don’t get to do that very often – and it is what the I cherish.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Truths: The Surprise of Free These Days
I am in the midst of settling my brother’s estate. It is a total mess and has become something that I curse my brother for every day because he did not have a will. My poor niece is in the middle of a lot of **** and we are all trying to work through it.
So, yesterday I had to take documents to be notarized and sent to my lawyer. I used to work at a corporate office so getting something notarized was never a big deal. But, now without that job, I was left to fend for myself. (Maybe I should know where to go for this but I never needed to…)
A friend of mine told me to go to the bank on the square. So, I packed up all of my documents and tromped into the bank. I don’t bank there so I wasn’t sure how it would work. I had even checked my purse for cash before I went in because I had no idea how much it would cost. $5, $10, $20 even $50 had crossed my mind. (That is how little I know about it)
So, I went to the first teller and told her what I needed and she said to go sign in by the customer service area and someone would help me. Sounded good.
A nice woman came up and asked me what I needed and when I told her she said to follow her into her office. I handed her the papers, knowing that I needed to sign in front of her. She asked for my license and stamped the papers. I had left my wallet out – awaiting the cost…and I hesitated when she was finished until she said “have a good day.”
Huh? I walked out feeling guilty…should I have paid for that, should I have said I didn’t have an account there? Did I just commit theft?
And that made think about the world as it is today. We don’t expect anything for free anymore. I remember being at Culvers once and getting my daughter her free ice cream that comes with the meal and then ordering a sundae for myself (No, I did not need that sundae – but boy was it GOOD!). The woman handed me both the deserts and when I went to pay – she said, “its okay, enjoy.”
I actually argued and said, “no, no I can pay for it.” But she refused. And instead of feeling grateful for the pleasant surprise, a gift really – I felt horribly guilty. Again, as though I stole something.
I did steal something when I was 6 years old. I was at the hardware store with my dad picking out those mailbox letters and while he was getting the right numbers, I was spelling my name with them. We checked out at the counter and walked to the car. I realized that I still had the letters in my hand (honest, I did not do it on purpose) and I felt horrible. I swore the police were coming and I wasn’t sure I should even tell my dad.
Now, right or wrong as we drove home and I fessed up – my dad said it was the wrong thing to do, but we never did return them. Luckily, as I grew up I didn’t become a looter or a thief!
Getting things free and wondering whom we should and should not tip is tough in this era. I remember staying at a nice hotel in Kohler, WI and each time my friends and I went through the door, the bellman would open it and greet us… It got to the point where we were like “Are we supposed to tip him?”
I buy special food for the dogs that I get at a small mom and pop store in town. When you buy the bag – one of the boys brings it to my car… should I tip him?
When the delivery guys bring my new furniture am I supposed to tip them? And what about at Subway and Starbucks where they have a tip jar? Really, am I supposed to tip the kid with the nose rings and purple hair for making my sandwich…(wrong)?
There are some professions we have all grown accustom to tipping: wait staff, pizza delivery people, limo drivers, taxi drivers, bellman, the people who dry your car at the car wash, hair stylists. But, what about the person who changes your oil? The person who tows you, the person who you already pay to mow your lawn?
When are we to go over and above what we already paid for the service?
I hate figuring it out – I hate that gut wrenching feeling wondering if I am being cheap or if I am being overgenerous…
And when I get things free – I feel just as bad.
But, why? (Does it all go back to my experience at the hardware store?) Have we all grown up with the saying that “nothing in life is free?” Did our parents preach too much that we have to work for everything that we get? What makes receiving a nice, generous gesture so uncomfortable?
Simply stated, I have no idea!
But, I realize that I shouldn’t feel bad, I should just feel gracious and walk away knowing that someone did a nice gesture just because they wanted to. It is okay to feel like “that just made my day.” Because, that was probably their genuine intent.
As for the tipping, well, there probably are rules of etiquette, but I guess that really comes down to how you feel about the service you received and if the person went above and beyond their job description or what you already paid for the service.
On one hand, we have become a society that feels the need to constantly reward even the most simple of acts just to motivate people and… is that right? Should I have to tip the Subway guy just so he will make my sandwich right next time? Should I tip the lawn guy because he actually swept up the grass this time? Should I tip the oil changer because my car still started once he was done?
I think not. I hope not.
But, in a world faced with recession – getting things for free once in awhile is gift we should just graciously receive and tipping for service that made you happy should never be outside the norm.
There is no wrong or right and as long as the police don’t come running after me – I guess that means I didn’t steal.
So, yesterday I had to take documents to be notarized and sent to my lawyer. I used to work at a corporate office so getting something notarized was never a big deal. But, now without that job, I was left to fend for myself. (Maybe I should know where to go for this but I never needed to…)
A friend of mine told me to go to the bank on the square. So, I packed up all of my documents and tromped into the bank. I don’t bank there so I wasn’t sure how it would work. I had even checked my purse for cash before I went in because I had no idea how much it would cost. $5, $10, $20 even $50 had crossed my mind. (That is how little I know about it)
So, I went to the first teller and told her what I needed and she said to go sign in by the customer service area and someone would help me. Sounded good.
A nice woman came up and asked me what I needed and when I told her she said to follow her into her office. I handed her the papers, knowing that I needed to sign in front of her. She asked for my license and stamped the papers. I had left my wallet out – awaiting the cost…and I hesitated when she was finished until she said “have a good day.”
Huh? I walked out feeling guilty…should I have paid for that, should I have said I didn’t have an account there? Did I just commit theft?
And that made think about the world as it is today. We don’t expect anything for free anymore. I remember being at Culvers once and getting my daughter her free ice cream that comes with the meal and then ordering a sundae for myself (No, I did not need that sundae – but boy was it GOOD!). The woman handed me both the deserts and when I went to pay – she said, “its okay, enjoy.”
I actually argued and said, “no, no I can pay for it.” But she refused. And instead of feeling grateful for the pleasant surprise, a gift really – I felt horribly guilty. Again, as though I stole something.
I did steal something when I was 6 years old. I was at the hardware store with my dad picking out those mailbox letters and while he was getting the right numbers, I was spelling my name with them. We checked out at the counter and walked to the car. I realized that I still had the letters in my hand (honest, I did not do it on purpose) and I felt horrible. I swore the police were coming and I wasn’t sure I should even tell my dad.
Now, right or wrong as we drove home and I fessed up – my dad said it was the wrong thing to do, but we never did return them. Luckily, as I grew up I didn’t become a looter or a thief!
Getting things free and wondering whom we should and should not tip is tough in this era. I remember staying at a nice hotel in Kohler, WI and each time my friends and I went through the door, the bellman would open it and greet us… It got to the point where we were like “Are we supposed to tip him?”
I buy special food for the dogs that I get at a small mom and pop store in town. When you buy the bag – one of the boys brings it to my car… should I tip him?
When the delivery guys bring my new furniture am I supposed to tip them? And what about at Subway and Starbucks where they have a tip jar? Really, am I supposed to tip the kid with the nose rings and purple hair for making my sandwich…(wrong)?
There are some professions we have all grown accustom to tipping: wait staff, pizza delivery people, limo drivers, taxi drivers, bellman, the people who dry your car at the car wash, hair stylists. But, what about the person who changes your oil? The person who tows you, the person who you already pay to mow your lawn?
When are we to go over and above what we already paid for the service?
I hate figuring it out – I hate that gut wrenching feeling wondering if I am being cheap or if I am being overgenerous…
And when I get things free – I feel just as bad.
But, why? (Does it all go back to my experience at the hardware store?) Have we all grown up with the saying that “nothing in life is free?” Did our parents preach too much that we have to work for everything that we get? What makes receiving a nice, generous gesture so uncomfortable?
Simply stated, I have no idea!
But, I realize that I shouldn’t feel bad, I should just feel gracious and walk away knowing that someone did a nice gesture just because they wanted to. It is okay to feel like “that just made my day.” Because, that was probably their genuine intent.
As for the tipping, well, there probably are rules of etiquette, but I guess that really comes down to how you feel about the service you received and if the person went above and beyond their job description or what you already paid for the service.
On one hand, we have become a society that feels the need to constantly reward even the most simple of acts just to motivate people and… is that right? Should I have to tip the Subway guy just so he will make my sandwich right next time? Should I tip the lawn guy because he actually swept up the grass this time? Should I tip the oil changer because my car still started once he was done?
I think not. I hope not.
But, in a world faced with recession – getting things for free once in awhile is gift we should just graciously receive and tipping for service that made you happy should never be outside the norm.
There is no wrong or right and as long as the police don’t come running after me – I guess that means I didn’t steal.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Truths: The Magic is Over or is it?
We took down all the Christmas decorations this weekend. The festive lights, the nostalgic ornaments, the cute snowmen that cover my home from room to room, the stockings that once anticipated what goodies would fill them.
One room at a time the decorations disappeared and a sense of emptiness took its place. And the lights outside came down, the twinkling glitter no longer brightening our home and inviting people in.
Yes, I was more than ready to have my house back. To gain some sense of control and re-establish my routine, but once the stuff was all packed away in bins – everything seemed a bit dismal.
Yes, the rooms were larger and we could all breathe again with the open space and lack of clutter, but it hit me hard.
The anticipation of the magic of Christmas was officially gone. The wonder of what would be unwrapped and the fun of watching others open the gifts you worked so hard to please them with. (yes, I know that I bought all of my own gifts – so my surprise was little to nothing – I am totally okay with that because I had NO returns at all!)
Right or wrong, I am not a religious person. I believe in something bigger than me – but Christmas is really a holiday of spirit – of giving – of believing in the impossible for me.
Once it is over – some of that just goes away. And, that is kind of saddening.
The presents get put away and the feeling of possibility drifts.
I am melancholy to say the least – but I am holding my own. I know that there will be next Christmas and until then, there is this amazing new year ahead of me.
So much to look forward to, so much to be grateful for. And, I guess, as I give it more contemplation, Christmas does not have to be the only magical part of the year.
Every day is an event that offers hope and a sense of renewed spirit. It all just depends on how we look at it.
In my stocking was this little sign I have hung on my “to do” board it says, “Any given moment can change your life, you just have to be there.” (yes, I bought it for my stocking).
I look at it everyday now as I read my emails and write this blog and it reminds me that this day has just as many possibilities as Christmas does…and it gives me the ambition to go out and seek what might just change my life today.
Each day is our chance to make a difference, to change our old, unhealthy behaviors, to make peace with an old enemy (maybe even ourselves), an opportunity to accomplish or seek out the things in our life that we are missing or want to achieve.
Each day is a chance to start over… each day is filled with the magic of possibility.
Don’t wait ‘til next Christmas to unwrap it.
One room at a time the decorations disappeared and a sense of emptiness took its place. And the lights outside came down, the twinkling glitter no longer brightening our home and inviting people in.
Yes, I was more than ready to have my house back. To gain some sense of control and re-establish my routine, but once the stuff was all packed away in bins – everything seemed a bit dismal.
Yes, the rooms were larger and we could all breathe again with the open space and lack of clutter, but it hit me hard.
The anticipation of the magic of Christmas was officially gone. The wonder of what would be unwrapped and the fun of watching others open the gifts you worked so hard to please them with. (yes, I know that I bought all of my own gifts – so my surprise was little to nothing – I am totally okay with that because I had NO returns at all!)
Right or wrong, I am not a religious person. I believe in something bigger than me – but Christmas is really a holiday of spirit – of giving – of believing in the impossible for me.
Once it is over – some of that just goes away. And, that is kind of saddening.
The presents get put away and the feeling of possibility drifts.
I am melancholy to say the least – but I am holding my own. I know that there will be next Christmas and until then, there is this amazing new year ahead of me.
So much to look forward to, so much to be grateful for. And, I guess, as I give it more contemplation, Christmas does not have to be the only magical part of the year.
Every day is an event that offers hope and a sense of renewed spirit. It all just depends on how we look at it.
In my stocking was this little sign I have hung on my “to do” board it says, “Any given moment can change your life, you just have to be there.” (yes, I bought it for my stocking).
I look at it everyday now as I read my emails and write this blog and it reminds me that this day has just as many possibilities as Christmas does…and it gives me the ambition to go out and seek what might just change my life today.
Each day is our chance to make a difference, to change our old, unhealthy behaviors, to make peace with an old enemy (maybe even ourselves), an opportunity to accomplish or seek out the things in our life that we are missing or want to achieve.
Each day is a chance to start over… each day is filled with the magic of possibility.
Don’t wait ‘til next Christmas to unwrap it.
Monday, January 11, 2010
Truths: The Hidden Beauty of a Book Club
Friday night I held Book Club at my house. I know… I never really thought of myself as a “book club” kind of girl but as you get older (and become a grandma!!) your ideas about life change and I thought I would like to have a reason to read more books – and to read books I would never have considered.
Our book club is going on one year – which, I think is pretty good. And, I have been to every meeting except two. We have read some great books and all of them have been things I would never have given a second thought to.
Since I was hosting the meeting, I got to choose the book and I chose, The Girls from Ames by Jeffery Zaslow. No, it is not a literary masterpiece by any stretch of the imagination but it is a wonderful real-life story of 11 girlfriends who have maintained a friendship for over 30 years.
That hit home to me because I have two amazing circles of friends. The first group is two of my dearest friends: Kelly and MaryKate. We have been great friends since we were 8 years old. We lived in the same neighborhood from elelmentary school through high school and part of college and we have maintained a very close friendship for over 30 years. I treasure what we have. MaryKate lives in Spain now…but with email she is never far away – and Kelly lives close by. So, even though we don’t see each all of the time: her closeness makes it feel like we do. Joanna, a friend since high school also fits into this group. While we despised each other in high school because of a boy, we have become allies and have this quiet common bond. She is someone who has become a vital part of my life. Truthfully, without them in my life – I am unsure I would be where I am today. They have caught me from falling many of times and I am certain they know me better than anyone in the world. Besides, they know every bad thing I have ever done!
The second group is 8 close friends all from college. Seven of which were all Gamma Phi’s with me. But, all 9 of us lived in this amazing house my senior year of college. Living with 8 girls can be tough, and it was, but the friendships we developed have lasted nearly 20 years. There is not one of us the same and I think that is what has kept us so in touch. Each has her own uniqueness to bring the group. We have met for vacations from all over the states and the ones who live close by have managed to get together a few times each year. Sure some of us are closer than others...Suz and I spent our high school and college years rocking to heavy metal and falling in love with the bad boys. Tina and I share a common ailment and that has made talking with her a vital part of my existence. And Delreen and I shared a room in the sorority house as well as many core college classes. She was there when I got engaged in LA (she helped my husband plan the whole surprise) and she was there to speak when we got married. We share heartfelt emails everyday and through a lot of very tough moments in my life, she has been there with unending support and an eternity of love. Still, as collaborate group there is a closeness that surpasses so many things in life. Like MaryKate, Kelly and Joanna, I know I would not be here today – without their unconditional support.
They say you are stuck with your family and you pick your friends and I know, without my friends, I would be very alone. They are my backbone, my truth and they always nurture my spirit.
Now, in another phase of my life, I have been fortunate to go on and make some new amazing friends also made up of two groups. The first is Susan and Ellen who I met through our passion for animal welfare. We are connected souls through a love for the same ideals. But, both friendships have blossomed into so much more.
The other group friends is moms who I have met through my daughter, Abby. Debbie Bridget, Nancy (and Carol, Abby’s step mom). They are such wonderful women and have weaved themselves into my life just by the day to day activities. It started with the drop offs and pick ups of the girls and has turned into get togethers and bowling leagues. Most of all, I knew they were my true friends when they showed me so much support when my brother died this summer. I knew we weren’t just moms anymore, we were friends. I could not be happier or more fortunate.
I am blessed by so many wonderful friends who fill my spirit in so many ways and I know as I am typing this there are friendships that are just beginning for me and I am anxious to see them grow.
So, the conversation of friendship was the longest conversation our book club has had to date. Women talking about their friends is a timeless night. So much to say and so much to relate to.
It was interesting that not all the women had the same type of friendships to relate to as some of us did…and for them I felt sympathy. Not all of them were disappointed, some didn’t understand how anyone could have time for all of that. True – it is hard.
But, one of the most memorable moments of book club that night was the raw emotions we shared. As far as the club goes we are all neighbors not necessarily good friends and since our conversation has been more about the moments in the books – this book allowed us to open up and see each of us as real people – real women who share so much more in common than we ever imagined.
Emotions such as shyness, uncertainty, hostility, etc. People shared how they scream at their kids or how their dogs destroy their furniture. People shared their inadequacies and their strengths.
The entire night opened my eyes to who all of these acquaintances really are as women. So many of them I see from afar and of course, I have always assumed, that their lives are perfect. That they have wonderful, behaved children, their homes are neat and organized and they live each day as though they are Dr. Phil and Martha Stewart combined!
But, they don’t and they are not living lives much different than mine. And that makes everyone real and friendships with them more attainable. And, actually, encourages me to reach out to them and get to know them.
The topic of friendship is so endearing, sacred, really. We covet our friends while reaching out to make new ones. We protect our selves through old friendships while yearning to make new ones.
Friday night taught me how all women have so much in common – so much that can make them friends. We need to trust that no one has it all under control and that everyone is looking for someone to share in life’s struggles.
Book club opened my eyes to all of this – to seeing my neighbors as real people and seeing my lifelong friendships as miracles.
Yes, book club did all of this…who would have ever guessed.
And, yeah, the books are great, too!
Our book club is going on one year – which, I think is pretty good. And, I have been to every meeting except two. We have read some great books and all of them have been things I would never have given a second thought to.
Since I was hosting the meeting, I got to choose the book and I chose, The Girls from Ames by Jeffery Zaslow. No, it is not a literary masterpiece by any stretch of the imagination but it is a wonderful real-life story of 11 girlfriends who have maintained a friendship for over 30 years.
That hit home to me because I have two amazing circles of friends. The first group is two of my dearest friends: Kelly and MaryKate. We have been great friends since we were 8 years old. We lived in the same neighborhood from elelmentary school through high school and part of college and we have maintained a very close friendship for over 30 years. I treasure what we have. MaryKate lives in Spain now…but with email she is never far away – and Kelly lives close by. So, even though we don’t see each all of the time: her closeness makes it feel like we do. Joanna, a friend since high school also fits into this group. While we despised each other in high school because of a boy, we have become allies and have this quiet common bond. She is someone who has become a vital part of my life. Truthfully, without them in my life – I am unsure I would be where I am today. They have caught me from falling many of times and I am certain they know me better than anyone in the world. Besides, they know every bad thing I have ever done!
The second group is 8 close friends all from college. Seven of which were all Gamma Phi’s with me. But, all 9 of us lived in this amazing house my senior year of college. Living with 8 girls can be tough, and it was, but the friendships we developed have lasted nearly 20 years. There is not one of us the same and I think that is what has kept us so in touch. Each has her own uniqueness to bring the group. We have met for vacations from all over the states and the ones who live close by have managed to get together a few times each year. Sure some of us are closer than others...Suz and I spent our high school and college years rocking to heavy metal and falling in love with the bad boys. Tina and I share a common ailment and that has made talking with her a vital part of my existence. And Delreen and I shared a room in the sorority house as well as many core college classes. She was there when I got engaged in LA (she helped my husband plan the whole surprise) and she was there to speak when we got married. We share heartfelt emails everyday and through a lot of very tough moments in my life, she has been there with unending support and an eternity of love. Still, as collaborate group there is a closeness that surpasses so many things in life. Like MaryKate, Kelly and Joanna, I know I would not be here today – without their unconditional support.
They say you are stuck with your family and you pick your friends and I know, without my friends, I would be very alone. They are my backbone, my truth and they always nurture my spirit.
Now, in another phase of my life, I have been fortunate to go on and make some new amazing friends also made up of two groups. The first is Susan and Ellen who I met through our passion for animal welfare. We are connected souls through a love for the same ideals. But, both friendships have blossomed into so much more.
The other group friends is moms who I have met through my daughter, Abby. Debbie Bridget, Nancy (and Carol, Abby’s step mom). They are such wonderful women and have weaved themselves into my life just by the day to day activities. It started with the drop offs and pick ups of the girls and has turned into get togethers and bowling leagues. Most of all, I knew they were my true friends when they showed me so much support when my brother died this summer. I knew we weren’t just moms anymore, we were friends. I could not be happier or more fortunate.
I am blessed by so many wonderful friends who fill my spirit in so many ways and I know as I am typing this there are friendships that are just beginning for me and I am anxious to see them grow.
So, the conversation of friendship was the longest conversation our book club has had to date. Women talking about their friends is a timeless night. So much to say and so much to relate to.
It was interesting that not all the women had the same type of friendships to relate to as some of us did…and for them I felt sympathy. Not all of them were disappointed, some didn’t understand how anyone could have time for all of that. True – it is hard.
But, one of the most memorable moments of book club that night was the raw emotions we shared. As far as the club goes we are all neighbors not necessarily good friends and since our conversation has been more about the moments in the books – this book allowed us to open up and see each of us as real people – real women who share so much more in common than we ever imagined.
Emotions such as shyness, uncertainty, hostility, etc. People shared how they scream at their kids or how their dogs destroy their furniture. People shared their inadequacies and their strengths.
The entire night opened my eyes to who all of these acquaintances really are as women. So many of them I see from afar and of course, I have always assumed, that their lives are perfect. That they have wonderful, behaved children, their homes are neat and organized and they live each day as though they are Dr. Phil and Martha Stewart combined!
But, they don’t and they are not living lives much different than mine. And that makes everyone real and friendships with them more attainable. And, actually, encourages me to reach out to them and get to know them.
The topic of friendship is so endearing, sacred, really. We covet our friends while reaching out to make new ones. We protect our selves through old friendships while yearning to make new ones.
Friday night taught me how all women have so much in common – so much that can make them friends. We need to trust that no one has it all under control and that everyone is looking for someone to share in life’s struggles.
Book club opened my eyes to all of this – to seeing my neighbors as real people and seeing my lifelong friendships as miracles.
Yes, book club did all of this…who would have ever guessed.
And, yeah, the books are great, too!
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Truths: A Surprise Enlightenment
Last night I took my daughter to basketball practice (and Bill because he is the coach). And when we got to the gym, there was a game about to start.
At first glance, I didn’t notice anything special – but when I looked closer, I realized that the players were all special needs individuals – probably ranging in age from 16 to over 30.
Instead of watching my daughter’s practice, I chose to stay and watch the game. I didn’t have high expectations for the players’ skills or that the game would be fun to watch – but something inside me urged me to sit and learn.
The game started and within minutes, I was smiling. I was cheering and my soul was renewed.
These individuals were amazing. They knew the game, they knew their positions and they were outstanding players.
Sure some of the regular rules are overlooked. Like, double dribble, over and back, traveling, etc – but there are fouls and out of bounds and they do keep score.
These players were competitive and wanted to win, but they were so kind and so supportive of everyone on the court. They clapped for one another and I could feel their genuine spirit and their happiness to be playing.
At times, I nearly had tears in my eyes… maybe because I misjudged what I would see, maybe because I was moved by their raw desire to play the game, maybe because I just never gave thought or consideration to anything like this before.
I have spent my life entrenched in animal welfare – rescuing dogs who had no chance and that is what has defined me.
I never really took a moment to see the rest of the world and the challenges some people face either as individuals with disabilities or special needs or as the families and friends coping with them everyday.
My heart opened last night in a way I never imagined and it felt good to be there. To be cheering for people I have never met but yet, felt so privileged to watch on the court.
It opened my eyes, my spirit and my soul…to not the sad or difficult things in life but to the opportunities and the possibilities.
It showed me there is no impossible dream or goal – we are the ones who tell ourselves we can’t do it. We are the ones that either take the wheel and define who we are or the ones who put on the brakes and limit our own dreams.
Last night there were phenomenal individuals playing in a game – I would bet some people told them as children they would never play – probably told their parents they would never be able to watch. But, those players last night never let someone else’s limitations define them – they never let anyone get in the way of what they knew in their hearts they could achieve…
And if that is not enlightening to watch and to be a silent observer of – I just don’t know what is.
At first glance, I didn’t notice anything special – but when I looked closer, I realized that the players were all special needs individuals – probably ranging in age from 16 to over 30.
Instead of watching my daughter’s practice, I chose to stay and watch the game. I didn’t have high expectations for the players’ skills or that the game would be fun to watch – but something inside me urged me to sit and learn.
The game started and within minutes, I was smiling. I was cheering and my soul was renewed.
These individuals were amazing. They knew the game, they knew their positions and they were outstanding players.
Sure some of the regular rules are overlooked. Like, double dribble, over and back, traveling, etc – but there are fouls and out of bounds and they do keep score.
These players were competitive and wanted to win, but they were so kind and so supportive of everyone on the court. They clapped for one another and I could feel their genuine spirit and their happiness to be playing.
At times, I nearly had tears in my eyes… maybe because I misjudged what I would see, maybe because I was moved by their raw desire to play the game, maybe because I just never gave thought or consideration to anything like this before.
I have spent my life entrenched in animal welfare – rescuing dogs who had no chance and that is what has defined me.
I never really took a moment to see the rest of the world and the challenges some people face either as individuals with disabilities or special needs or as the families and friends coping with them everyday.
My heart opened last night in a way I never imagined and it felt good to be there. To be cheering for people I have never met but yet, felt so privileged to watch on the court.
It opened my eyes, my spirit and my soul…to not the sad or difficult things in life but to the opportunities and the possibilities.
It showed me there is no impossible dream or goal – we are the ones who tell ourselves we can’t do it. We are the ones that either take the wheel and define who we are or the ones who put on the brakes and limit our own dreams.
Last night there were phenomenal individuals playing in a game – I would bet some people told them as children they would never play – probably told their parents they would never be able to watch. But, those players last night never let someone else’s limitations define them – they never let anyone get in the way of what they knew in their hearts they could achieve…
And if that is not enlightening to watch and to be a silent observer of – I just don’t know what is.
Monday, January 4, 2010
Truths: Why do we fight the male species?
A couple of things happened these last few days that have reminded me why women and men are so different… and made me pause to wonder, “why do we continue to fight the truth of the male species?”
As women, we are always hoping, wishing, needing men to be these things that they always fall short of. Sure, once in great while, they surprise the Hell out of us with flowers, or jewelry but, ultimately, those moments are few and far between. And, we are left with disappointment – even anger and resentment wondering why don’t “they” get it?
Well, here are some glaring truths about men that I pondered this weekend. The first one, that I think we all take for granted, is what men wear. We went to our cabin this weekend and so I laid out things for my husband to pack when he got home. They were my favorite shirts and pants so I piled them up as a way to help him.
He packed them all and never once thought about it. He didn’t look through them and put some back – he just happily threw them in the bag and we were on our way.
So, I ask you, as women,… is there any possible way you would have so easily accepted the outfits your husband laid out for you? Would you have just gladly thrown them in your bag and left for the weekend?
Hell no… Even IF our men were fashionistas – we would not have been happy with their clothing choices. We would look through what they gave us and put at least half back – and then, we would have spent another hour contemplating what we were going to pack.
Because that is who we are. And yet, we still expect men to understand us.
As you all know, I bought and wrapped my own Christmas gifts this year and loved every one of them… I am tired of having high expectations – only to be sadly disappointed. Besides, my husband was thrilled that he had no shopping to do.
And that brings me to another reality check. A few years back, my husband and I were shopping at Water Tower Place and I noticed this beautiful brown sweater. I showed it to my husband – hinting at it being my birthday gift.
He looked at it and shrugged, “Hmm, I didn’t know that you liked brown.”
As he stood in front of me while I was wearing a brown coat, brown shoes, a brown top and a brown scarf!!!
Men – do not notice things that are glaring in front of them – so why do we keep hoping that they will take subtle hints and buy us what we want or do things that we hope for?
It was my birthday this weekend and my husband and my stepdaughter took me shopping to this quaint little town called Princeton near our cabin. I got to browse the stores and pick out things that I wanted. And it was fun… and I got wonderful gifts that I love.
Sure Kristin could have easily picked things out for me – but Bill…probably not. In fact, I think he was confused by what I did pick out. Even though they are the types of things that adorn my closet and jewelry chest.
Men are not us – they don’t think like us and they don’t operate like us… My husband goes golfing every Wednesday in the summer with a few guys… when he comes home and I ask things like, “When is Jonathan moving? How is Chris’s wife after the surgery? When is Mike getting married?”
Bill just looks at me and says, “I have no idea we don’t talk about that!”
As a woman who knows that my husband just spent 3 hours with his friends and has come home without one iota of information – I am stunned. I am at a total loss…
Interestingly enough, when they don’t have a foursome – sometimes I go along and I do ask these questions and the guys are more than happy to share the information - but if I am not there – the night revolves around who had the best drive and who got a new golf club.
And yet, as women we continue to fight against the reality of who men are. We blatantly ignore the facts and we allow ourselves to perpetuate our own disappointment.
I say make it a New Year’s Resolution to make yourself happy and to quit relying on the men in your life to surprise you with your desires. Sure, it destroys the childhood dream of Prince Charming – (But, how many men ever even watched the fairy tales we have yearned our whole lives to live?)
So, if you want that “Happily Ever After” you will have to buy it for yourself!
As women, we are always hoping, wishing, needing men to be these things that they always fall short of. Sure, once in great while, they surprise the Hell out of us with flowers, or jewelry but, ultimately, those moments are few and far between. And, we are left with disappointment – even anger and resentment wondering why don’t “they” get it?
Well, here are some glaring truths about men that I pondered this weekend. The first one, that I think we all take for granted, is what men wear. We went to our cabin this weekend and so I laid out things for my husband to pack when he got home. They were my favorite shirts and pants so I piled them up as a way to help him.
He packed them all and never once thought about it. He didn’t look through them and put some back – he just happily threw them in the bag and we were on our way.
So, I ask you, as women,… is there any possible way you would have so easily accepted the outfits your husband laid out for you? Would you have just gladly thrown them in your bag and left for the weekend?
Hell no… Even IF our men were fashionistas – we would not have been happy with their clothing choices. We would look through what they gave us and put at least half back – and then, we would have spent another hour contemplating what we were going to pack.
Because that is who we are. And yet, we still expect men to understand us.
As you all know, I bought and wrapped my own Christmas gifts this year and loved every one of them… I am tired of having high expectations – only to be sadly disappointed. Besides, my husband was thrilled that he had no shopping to do.
And that brings me to another reality check. A few years back, my husband and I were shopping at Water Tower Place and I noticed this beautiful brown sweater. I showed it to my husband – hinting at it being my birthday gift.
He looked at it and shrugged, “Hmm, I didn’t know that you liked brown.”
As he stood in front of me while I was wearing a brown coat, brown shoes, a brown top and a brown scarf!!!
Men – do not notice things that are glaring in front of them – so why do we keep hoping that they will take subtle hints and buy us what we want or do things that we hope for?
It was my birthday this weekend and my husband and my stepdaughter took me shopping to this quaint little town called Princeton near our cabin. I got to browse the stores and pick out things that I wanted. And it was fun… and I got wonderful gifts that I love.
Sure Kristin could have easily picked things out for me – but Bill…probably not. In fact, I think he was confused by what I did pick out. Even though they are the types of things that adorn my closet and jewelry chest.
Men are not us – they don’t think like us and they don’t operate like us… My husband goes golfing every Wednesday in the summer with a few guys… when he comes home and I ask things like, “When is Jonathan moving? How is Chris’s wife after the surgery? When is Mike getting married?”
Bill just looks at me and says, “I have no idea we don’t talk about that!”
As a woman who knows that my husband just spent 3 hours with his friends and has come home without one iota of information – I am stunned. I am at a total loss…
Interestingly enough, when they don’t have a foursome – sometimes I go along and I do ask these questions and the guys are more than happy to share the information - but if I am not there – the night revolves around who had the best drive and who got a new golf club.
And yet, as women we continue to fight against the reality of who men are. We blatantly ignore the facts and we allow ourselves to perpetuate our own disappointment.
I say make it a New Year’s Resolution to make yourself happy and to quit relying on the men in your life to surprise you with your desires. Sure, it destroys the childhood dream of Prince Charming – (But, how many men ever even watched the fairy tales we have yearned our whole lives to live?)
So, if you want that “Happily Ever After” you will have to buy it for yourself!
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