I am a perfectionist. I think it's one of the things that adds to my charm and personality, but it can also be one of my downfalls. I like to be able to do things well, right away. I have a very bad habit of starting something, becoming either frustrated or bored, then not following through with it. I am working to change this, mainly because I see it abundantly present in my oldest son and it frustrates me. There are certain traits of his that pose absolutely no question as to where they come from!
He has told me, for probably about 4 years now, that he wants to be a drummer. He inherited a 3-piece set from a friend, and got a drum pad for Christmas so he could practice quietly. He's played a little on both, trying to learn the basics of keeping time. And he's done pretty well so far. Unfortunately, he gets easily bored and "practicing" just seems like too much work sometimes when he would rather be playing Wii or X-Box.
The kids got me a guitar for me for Christmas. I've never played guitar before, but I thought it would be cool to learn. Now that I have the guitar, I am mentally forcing myself to learn it. The internet is a wonderful thing, when one is trying to learn something new. I looked up basic chord structure, and tried strumming a few. It took me a bit to get my brain wrapped around reading guitar chords and figuring out which fingers went on which strings on which frets. It was frustrating. And it hurt my fingers! I had tried it just a few times since Christmas, but only for a few minutes at a time. I tried G, C and D chords, 3 of the easiest to play I was told. I finally managed to get the right finger on the right string on the right fret and could make a decent sound on each of these 3 chords. But I was starting to get bored. I know it's not good musicianship, but the rudiments of chord structure and scales have never been exciting to me. In fact, for most of my musical life I have either avoided or skipped learning them. Thus, most likely why I needed a friend to hold my hand and lead me through basic music theory in college. But I don't want to give up. I really want to learn guitar. So I decided to pick a song to learn. I chose "Little Wonders" by Rob Thomas, and quickly found a simple version of online "sheet music" that I could follow.
The lyrics (most of which I already have memorized) were written out with the corresponding chord name written above. When I hovered the cursor over the chord name, the fingering appeared, telling me how to play it. There are 4 basic chords in this song- A, E, B minor, and D. I strummed each one slowly, focusing on the placement of each finger and the vibration of each string. I followed the on-screen music and strummed each chord in progression for the first verse and chorus. Because my brain is wired the way it is, I couldn't play the song without singing it. So I slowly played through the first verse and chorus a couple of times, singing along. It was painfully slow (as is any piece of music the first time you learn it), but I was excited to be able to play it. I found myself having the patience to do it again and again, slowly. After about 30 minutes I was able to play each chord without checking the fingering. And I was beginning to remember the progression of the 4 chords in the song. As I sang, I could hear what was going to come next. My excitement was building.
Such a simple thing to get so excited about, but once I was able to make it through the entire song and keep a steady (albeit very slow) beat, I threw my hands up in the air and cheered very loudly for myself. From the Janga website, I played the song and tried to keep up by strumming along. I could get about halfway through the song (although it was quite sloppy) before losing it. But I didn't even care. Ms. Perfectionist was beginning to accept that it was going to take a lot of effort in order to get it right. I played for about an hour. The same 4 chords, the same song, over and over again. I was better at this than I thought I would be, and my exhilaration was through the roof!
I finally decided to stop when the pain in my left fingertips was so bad it made me want to cry. I could no longer strum a decent sounding chord, because I couldn't push my fingers on the strings hard enough. I put the guitar away, and called my kids, who are with their dad tonight. Out of habit, I picked up the phone with my right hand and dialed with my left. Ow-ow-ow...ow-ow-ow-ow. I almost didn't care that my fingers hurt so badly. I was so excited to tell my son that I had practiced and made it through a song! I promised him that when they return home on Saturday, I would play it for him.
Deep down, I'm hoping that if he sees his perfectionist mom taking the time to learn something new, it will rub off on him and he'll be more likely to play his drums. I know he will have traits and quirks that are not "perfect," as everyone does and I will always love him no matter how much of a perfectionist he is. I want him to see that effort pays off, and sometimes learning new things is easier, and sometimes harder, than you might originally think. And that it's ok to not be very good at something for a while, but you have the power the change that. I'm hoping all my kids will learn these lessons, but most of all, I just want to be able to play the guitar and sing a song for them.
An Unexpected Repair
I got a phone call tonight that was very unexpected. It was from someone who I've had a rocky relationship with, to say the least. Yet this time the conversation was civil, dare I say.. pleasant. We talked for well over an hour, with the topics ranging from work to kids to friends to relationships... to us and our relationship. Sometimes it's difficult to talk about a relationship with the person you had the relationship with. We laughed over some of the little things. I got choked up a bit. All in all, it was nice to talk with them. It made me smile.
There have been times when we haven't exactly been as nice as we could have to one another. There have been conversations where "nice" words seem to be empty and meaningless. There have been things said to one another out of anger that were hurtful. There was none of that tonight. The words and feelings were genuine. I was surprised to receive the call in the first place, and I was a little surprised that we were able to have such an open and honest conversation. I heard myself say words that I never thought I'd be able to say. And although it did choke me up, I meant what I said. And I believe the things that were said to me, as difficult as some of them were to hear, were said with the best intentions. I think this conversation gave a kind of closure to a relationship that was abruptly interrupted. I'm not sure if our relationship will ever be what it was once upon a time ago, when we first met. But I think the repairs have begun.
Sometimes the smallest actions can make a big difference to someone.
There have been times when we haven't exactly been as nice as we could have to one another. There have been conversations where "nice" words seem to be empty and meaningless. There have been things said to one another out of anger that were hurtful. There was none of that tonight. The words and feelings were genuine. I was surprised to receive the call in the first place, and I was a little surprised that we were able to have such an open and honest conversation. I heard myself say words that I never thought I'd be able to say. And although it did choke me up, I meant what I said. And I believe the things that were said to me, as difficult as some of them were to hear, were said with the best intentions. I think this conversation gave a kind of closure to a relationship that was abruptly interrupted. I'm not sure if our relationship will ever be what it was once upon a time ago, when we first met. But I think the repairs have begun.
Sometimes the smallest actions can make a big difference to someone.
A Simple Solution to a Big Panic
I realized earlier today that I needed something important, and I wasn't sure where it was. I received it in the mail on December 31, and remember looking at it at my dining room table, but I wasn't sure where I put it after that. I looked in a few of the obvious places where I thought it might be, but to no avail. I started cleaning off the hutch in the dining room, stacking things on the table, sorting as I went, frantically hoping it was in there. It wasn't and in a very short time, I started to panic.
I don't panic over every little thing, but sometimes when I do panic, I panic big. I do that whole "turn molehills into mountains" thing where I start to think about every little thing that could potentially, maybe, possibly go wrong and my stream of consciousness goes out of control, stringing together scenarios and situations that may or may not be at all related. I did this today. For whatever reason, as I started to freak out over the whereabouts of a document, I also started to worry about money, a situation at work, the cleanliness of my house, and my overall parenting ability. Yeah, see what I mean? Big.
A friend called, and I cried. Not really sure why, but I did. So he came to visit. And I cried more. I cried over lots of things. He held my hand and I cried over stupid things that shouldn't worry me but do. He assured and reassured me of lots of things, including the well-being of my parenting skills. I don't like to feel like I'm being criticized and when I do, especially about something like parenting my kids, my insecurity skyrockets. Insecurity had taken over my brain. It was winning the battle at that moment, and had broken me down.
Acceptance and patience sometimes go hand in hand, and I'm not particularly good at either. Especially patience. I can do acceptance, but I still struggle with patience. And this, my friend tells me again and again, is what I need most right now. I need to accept my feelings and be patient with myself to get through them. This is difficult for me because I don't like crying. I don't like questioning whether or not I'm doing a good job, at parenting or anything else. I don't like feeling helpless. I don't like feeling alone. I don't like the feeling that someone else thinks they are "better" than me, in any sense of the word. And I've felt all of these things lately. So I cried.
I'm told that all these feelings are legitimate feelings, and it's ok to have them. I was told this afternoon to look in the mirror and accept what I see. Accept when I am happy. Accept when I am not. I was told that even when I cry and question everything I do, I should accept myself and like me - because I care enough to try to do a good job, and when I feel like I'm not doing a good job it bothers me enough to cry about it. "Because there are plenty of people out there who just don't give a rat's a**." I am not one of those people. I do care. I care what others think of me, which isn't always a good thing, if one obsesses too much about it. But it's not always a bad thing, either.
Once I had calmed down and my friend left, I looked in the mirror. I looked terrible. My face was blotchy, my eyes were red and sunken... I hate how I look when I cry. But I smiled at myself anyway. I smiled because I know that I am a caring person, and even when I cry I have a beautiful spirit. Sounds trite, but if that's what I have to tell myself to make me feel better each time I cry, then I will. I wiped away my tears, dried my face and smiled once again. Better. I started cleaning again, back on the hunt for my very important document. After thinking for a moment, I walked into the dining room and noticed a pile of papers underneath the table. I picked up the pile, and sure enough, there was the document I was looking for. Literally under my nose the whole time.
I felt quite relieved after I found it, called my friend to let him know, and finished the project of sorting papers from the hutch. I turned up my music. Goo Goo Dolls were the preferred band of the hour. As I continued to clean, my spirit continued to lift. I was hacking away at the insecurity that had taken me over only a few hours before. And each time I walked past the living room mirror, I paused and smiled at the woman looking back at me. She is beautiful. Even after crying.
I don't panic over every little thing, but sometimes when I do panic, I panic big. I do that whole "turn molehills into mountains" thing where I start to think about every little thing that could potentially, maybe, possibly go wrong and my stream of consciousness goes out of control, stringing together scenarios and situations that may or may not be at all related. I did this today. For whatever reason, as I started to freak out over the whereabouts of a document, I also started to worry about money, a situation at work, the cleanliness of my house, and my overall parenting ability. Yeah, see what I mean? Big.
A friend called, and I cried. Not really sure why, but I did. So he came to visit. And I cried more. I cried over lots of things. He held my hand and I cried over stupid things that shouldn't worry me but do. He assured and reassured me of lots of things, including the well-being of my parenting skills. I don't like to feel like I'm being criticized and when I do, especially about something like parenting my kids, my insecurity skyrockets. Insecurity had taken over my brain. It was winning the battle at that moment, and had broken me down.
Acceptance and patience sometimes go hand in hand, and I'm not particularly good at either. Especially patience. I can do acceptance, but I still struggle with patience. And this, my friend tells me again and again, is what I need most right now. I need to accept my feelings and be patient with myself to get through them. This is difficult for me because I don't like crying. I don't like questioning whether or not I'm doing a good job, at parenting or anything else. I don't like feeling helpless. I don't like feeling alone. I don't like the feeling that someone else thinks they are "better" than me, in any sense of the word. And I've felt all of these things lately. So I cried.
I'm told that all these feelings are legitimate feelings, and it's ok to have them. I was told this afternoon to look in the mirror and accept what I see. Accept when I am happy. Accept when I am not. I was told that even when I cry and question everything I do, I should accept myself and like me - because I care enough to try to do a good job, and when I feel like I'm not doing a good job it bothers me enough to cry about it. "Because there are plenty of people out there who just don't give a rat's a**." I am not one of those people. I do care. I care what others think of me, which isn't always a good thing, if one obsesses too much about it. But it's not always a bad thing, either.
Once I had calmed down and my friend left, I looked in the mirror. I looked terrible. My face was blotchy, my eyes were red and sunken... I hate how I look when I cry. But I smiled at myself anyway. I smiled because I know that I am a caring person, and even when I cry I have a beautiful spirit. Sounds trite, but if that's what I have to tell myself to make me feel better each time I cry, then I will. I wiped away my tears, dried my face and smiled once again. Better. I started cleaning again, back on the hunt for my very important document. After thinking for a moment, I walked into the dining room and noticed a pile of papers underneath the table. I picked up the pile, and sure enough, there was the document I was looking for. Literally under my nose the whole time.
I felt quite relieved after I found it, called my friend to let him know, and finished the project of sorting papers from the hutch. I turned up my music. Goo Goo Dolls were the preferred band of the hour. As I continued to clean, my spirit continued to lift. I was hacking away at the insecurity that had taken me over only a few hours before. And each time I walked past the living room mirror, I paused and smiled at the woman looking back at me. She is beautiful. Even after crying.
Courage
A day or two ago, I saw on Facebook a status update on a page dedicated to positivity that said something to the effect of "Be creative, post your own quote using the word courage." So I did. I put the first thing that came to mind, which was "Courage is doing what needs to be done no matter how much it scares you." Then I posted the second thing that came mind: "Sometimes closing your eyes and jumping in can be more courageous than keeping your eyes open and walking away." There are currently 1,455 comments on this particular post.
Courage is an interesting virtue. It can come in many forms and be displayed in many ways. To a 2-year-old, courage could mean petting the neighbor's 100-pound, slobbery Rottweiler, despite the fact that he might be the sweetest dog on the face of the planet. In the preschool and elementary world, courage sometimes means being in the spotlight in front of others, like for a dance recital or to recite some lines in front of your schoolmates. To a teen, courage might be asking someone out on a date. In my 20s, courage meant learning to do things on my own, without my parents, like taking a job and moving to Florida. Now, to me, courage is facing what I know needs to be done, whether I want to face it or not. And it takes courage to not only face what needs to be done, but to DO what needs to be done. That can take a lot of courage.
Growing up I don't think 'courageous' is a word I would have used to describe myself. I used to think of courageous people as people like Abraham Lincoln, Martin Luther King Jr, and the comic superhero type... people who willingly and loudly stood up to adversity, regardless of what consequences it might bring. For a very long time, I was not one of those people. I have learned, however, that it does not take a significant "the world is gonna end" kind of event in order to be able to display courage.
When my oldest was very little, his dad encouraged him to investigate and explore the local wildlife, such as garter snakes, ants and spiders. I'm not a big fan of snakes (even little ones), ants or spiders. But I didn't want my anxiety to rub off on my son, so I would "bravely" stand back and point out all the cool little bugs and other assorted creepy-crawly things that he could look at. I never wanted him to fear bugs, or creepy-crawly things. And, for the most part, he doesn't. I had to summon a bit of courage to supress any screams I wanted to let out, when he would hold his hand up and say, "Mama, look what I found!" Instead of screaming, I would smile and say, "That's great. Make sure you leave it outside." Not the end of the world. But still courageous.
My daughter was destined to dance, and we enrolled her when she was 2. "Dancing on the big stage" was a big deal, and we had to talk it up in a very positive light so she wouldn't freak out at her first dance recital. I don't sit in the spotlight very often. I have often backed away from solos, acting in general, dancing in front of people, and many other activities that would cause a large group of people to focus mainly on me. However, I was not going to let my shyness deter my daughter from getting on the stage and dancing her little heart out. So I talked about the stage often, and told her how much fun it was going to be to dance, and how proud I am of her, and how she's gonna be super brave and do an awesome job. I don't think she's quite as shy as I am, but our pep talks seemed to work. Her first recital, she did do a great job. She wasn't the most outgoing little girl up there, but she didn't seem at all scared. At the end of the recital, her aunts (who were instructors) called her front and center to bring some flowers to one of the directors. Without hesitation, she walked across the stage, in front of all the other dancers, took the flowers from her aunt, then crossed the stage to the other side to deliver them to the director. As she was crossing toward the director, she glanced out into the audience, and a look came over her face. Not one of apprehension, but of pride. She lifted her head just a little, smiled and slowed down her pace. She practically strutted across the stage. Not the end of the world, but still courageous.
In the past 12 or so months, I've had to find the courage to look deep inside myself. I've had to find the courage to face, then accept or change things about myself I didn't like. It took a lot of courage that I didn't think I had in me, but I have changed a number of things. And I have accepted other things. I have faced things I didn't want to face, and done things I didn't want to do. I have found lots of ways, big and little, to be courageous. And I've enjoyed the empowerment that courage can bring. I'm still no Martin Luther King Jr, and solos on a "big stage" in front of a large group of people still kind of frighten me, but I have no doubt that if something needs to be done, I can find the courage to do it. Jump in. It might not be the end of the world, but there is always a way to be courageous.
Courage is an interesting virtue. It can come in many forms and be displayed in many ways. To a 2-year-old, courage could mean petting the neighbor's 100-pound, slobbery Rottweiler, despite the fact that he might be the sweetest dog on the face of the planet. In the preschool and elementary world, courage sometimes means being in the spotlight in front of others, like for a dance recital or to recite some lines in front of your schoolmates. To a teen, courage might be asking someone out on a date. In my 20s, courage meant learning to do things on my own, without my parents, like taking a job and moving to Florida. Now, to me, courage is facing what I know needs to be done, whether I want to face it or not. And it takes courage to not only face what needs to be done, but to DO what needs to be done. That can take a lot of courage.
Growing up I don't think 'courageous' is a word I would have used to describe myself. I used to think of courageous people as people like Abraham Lincoln, Martin Luther King Jr, and the comic superhero type... people who willingly and loudly stood up to adversity, regardless of what consequences it might bring. For a very long time, I was not one of those people. I have learned, however, that it does not take a significant "the world is gonna end" kind of event in order to be able to display courage.
When my oldest was very little, his dad encouraged him to investigate and explore the local wildlife, such as garter snakes, ants and spiders. I'm not a big fan of snakes (even little ones), ants or spiders. But I didn't want my anxiety to rub off on my son, so I would "bravely" stand back and point out all the cool little bugs and other assorted creepy-crawly things that he could look at. I never wanted him to fear bugs, or creepy-crawly things. And, for the most part, he doesn't. I had to summon a bit of courage to supress any screams I wanted to let out, when he would hold his hand up and say, "Mama, look what I found!" Instead of screaming, I would smile and say, "That's great. Make sure you leave it outside." Not the end of the world. But still courageous.
My daughter was destined to dance, and we enrolled her when she was 2. "Dancing on the big stage" was a big deal, and we had to talk it up in a very positive light so she wouldn't freak out at her first dance recital. I don't sit in the spotlight very often. I have often backed away from solos, acting in general, dancing in front of people, and many other activities that would cause a large group of people to focus mainly on me. However, I was not going to let my shyness deter my daughter from getting on the stage and dancing her little heart out. So I talked about the stage often, and told her how much fun it was going to be to dance, and how proud I am of her, and how she's gonna be super brave and do an awesome job. I don't think she's quite as shy as I am, but our pep talks seemed to work. Her first recital, she did do a great job. She wasn't the most outgoing little girl up there, but she didn't seem at all scared. At the end of the recital, her aunts (who were instructors) called her front and center to bring some flowers to one of the directors. Without hesitation, she walked across the stage, in front of all the other dancers, took the flowers from her aunt, then crossed the stage to the other side to deliver them to the director. As she was crossing toward the director, she glanced out into the audience, and a look came over her face. Not one of apprehension, but of pride. She lifted her head just a little, smiled and slowed down her pace. She practically strutted across the stage. Not the end of the world, but still courageous.
In the past 12 or so months, I've had to find the courage to look deep inside myself. I've had to find the courage to face, then accept or change things about myself I didn't like. It took a lot of courage that I didn't think I had in me, but I have changed a number of things. And I have accepted other things. I have faced things I didn't want to face, and done things I didn't want to do. I have found lots of ways, big and little, to be courageous. And I've enjoyed the empowerment that courage can bring. I'm still no Martin Luther King Jr, and solos on a "big stage" in front of a large group of people still kind of frighten me, but I have no doubt that if something needs to be done, I can find the courage to do it. Jump in. It might not be the end of the world, but there is always a way to be courageous.
In Good Company
I have amazing friends. I am thoroughly convinced that I know some of the coolest people on the face of the earth. Not all my friends will win a Nobel Peace Prize (although I can name a couple who wouldn't surprise me if they did), not all my friends will be famous, not all my friends have every piece of their life put in exactly the right place... but none the less, they are truly amazing people.
One friend went through a terribly dark time in his life, was brought out of it by friends and strangers alike, lived to tell about it and shares his stories quietly with those who need them. He's given me more advice than anyone else, I think, and although he thinks I'm crazy for quoting him, I will continue to take his advice to heart and pass it along to others as needed.
One friend is dealing with infertility. She's also had her share of self-esteem issues over the years, but is moving away from a negative attitude and learning to embrace the challenges that lie ahead of her. She is strong, determined, and a true inspiration.
One friend is what you could call a Renaissance Man. He participates in all kinds of sports, no matter the season, he's traveled overseas numerous times, he speaks at least one other language fluently, he's a musician and plays multiple instruments, he is always looking to learn new things. He has an amazing lust for life and fear of nothing. Whenever I hear him tell stories of the things he's done, it makes me want to jump up out of my chair and learn how to do it, too! He's helped me want to learn new things, and is an inspiration for doing so.
One friend is much younger than I, yet very wise beyond her years and has been an immensely huge help to me. We have many similar and parallel things that have occurred in our lives, and we immediately clicked when we met only 4 months ago. I feel as if I've known her practically my whole life. Of all the friends I've known throughout the years, I believe she may be my 'Soul Sister.'
A number of friends are extremely talented and accomplished musicians. In listening to recordings from my college days, I realized that some of the people I know had more talent in their pinky finger back then, than I ever hope to have. And many of them have continued with their music career! I am in awe every time I hear them play. A high school friend is a college music professor and has had two of her own original compositions published. That's just the tip of that iceberg. I know tons of talented musicians.
This is not to downplay any of my own life. I've had my own accomplishements, as well. I'm a musician- a saxophone player. I've played in the backup bands for the Temptations, and Mary Wilson and the Supremes. I also sing, and I know how to play the flute and piano (that doesn't mean I play them well, but I know how). I'm trying to learn the guitar. Immediately after college graduation, I left everyone and everything I knew, and moved to Florida for a job, and lived there for 2 years. I have been in the radio business for about 17 years and have experienced just about every aspect of the business in some way, shape or form. I've been an announcer or DJ for stations who's format is news/talk, Top 40/pop, adult contemporary, country, alternative, and classic rock. I have the ability to identify a large number of artists in all of these categories. I am currently a co-host for a weekly, locally produced news program. I've interviewed and/or met numerous NPR personalities. I'm a single mom to 3 incredible kids.
I have friends who are teachers, single parents, musicians, cancer survivors, innovators, divorcees, professors, leaders, doctors (both medical and non), scientists... this list could go on. The people I know have overcome some incredibly difficult challenges in their lives, and they have flourished. Not only am I in awe of the accomplishments of my friends, but I am enamored by their inspiration, attitude and the genuine love they hold for others. If we truly are judged by the company we keep, then I am sittin' pretty, for sure! I have amazing friends.
One friend went through a terribly dark time in his life, was brought out of it by friends and strangers alike, lived to tell about it and shares his stories quietly with those who need them. He's given me more advice than anyone else, I think, and although he thinks I'm crazy for quoting him, I will continue to take his advice to heart and pass it along to others as needed.
One friend is dealing with infertility. She's also had her share of self-esteem issues over the years, but is moving away from a negative attitude and learning to embrace the challenges that lie ahead of her. She is strong, determined, and a true inspiration.
One friend is what you could call a Renaissance Man. He participates in all kinds of sports, no matter the season, he's traveled overseas numerous times, he speaks at least one other language fluently, he's a musician and plays multiple instruments, he is always looking to learn new things. He has an amazing lust for life and fear of nothing. Whenever I hear him tell stories of the things he's done, it makes me want to jump up out of my chair and learn how to do it, too! He's helped me want to learn new things, and is an inspiration for doing so.
One friend is much younger than I, yet very wise beyond her years and has been an immensely huge help to me. We have many similar and parallel things that have occurred in our lives, and we immediately clicked when we met only 4 months ago. I feel as if I've known her practically my whole life. Of all the friends I've known throughout the years, I believe she may be my 'Soul Sister.'
A number of friends are extremely talented and accomplished musicians. In listening to recordings from my college days, I realized that some of the people I know had more talent in their pinky finger back then, than I ever hope to have. And many of them have continued with their music career! I am in awe every time I hear them play. A high school friend is a college music professor and has had two of her own original compositions published. That's just the tip of that iceberg. I know tons of talented musicians.
This is not to downplay any of my own life. I've had my own accomplishements, as well. I'm a musician- a saxophone player. I've played in the backup bands for the Temptations, and Mary Wilson and the Supremes. I also sing, and I know how to play the flute and piano (that doesn't mean I play them well, but I know how). I'm trying to learn the guitar. Immediately after college graduation, I left everyone and everything I knew, and moved to Florida for a job, and lived there for 2 years. I have been in the radio business for about 17 years and have experienced just about every aspect of the business in some way, shape or form. I've been an announcer or DJ for stations who's format is news/talk, Top 40/pop, adult contemporary, country, alternative, and classic rock. I have the ability to identify a large number of artists in all of these categories. I am currently a co-host for a weekly, locally produced news program. I've interviewed and/or met numerous NPR personalities. I'm a single mom to 3 incredible kids.
I have friends who are teachers, single parents, musicians, cancer survivors, innovators, divorcees, professors, leaders, doctors (both medical and non), scientists... this list could go on. The people I know have overcome some incredibly difficult challenges in their lives, and they have flourished. Not only am I in awe of the accomplishments of my friends, but I am enamored by their inspiration, attitude and the genuine love they hold for others. If we truly are judged by the company we keep, then I am sittin' pretty, for sure! I have amazing friends.
To Go or Not To Go... That Is the Question
High school is a funny kind of thing. Much of who we are begins to get carved out in this period of time, yet it is possibly 4 of the most awkward years of our lives. I didn't have a horrible high school experience. I never got beat up or ridiculed to the point of absolute humiliation. I was extremely quiet in high school. At least in the first year. I have some very good memories of high school, and thanks to Facebook, I have reconnected with people who I figured would be long gone from my life after our graduation in 1991.
Our 20 year reunion is this year. There has been a group formed on Facebook that has well over 150 people, out of the 365 or so in our graduating class. There are lots of "I'm so excited" and "I can't wait to see you guys" kind of comments. I've scrolled through the list of classmates and have found no more than 5 or 10 who I would want to be Facebook friends with, that I'm not already friends with. In other words, I'm not entirely sure there's many more people from my class that I would want to reconnect with who I haven't already. That is not said to offend anyone. Our high school was quite cliquey with many different, diverse groups of people, and the groups didn't always get along or bother to try to get along. As I said, I was quiet, shy. I was a 'music geek.' I played in the marching band, concert band and jazz band. I never did sports. I wasn't ever in the top 10 of our class. I never ran for Class President or got voted Homecoming Queen. I barely ever raised my hand in class. I was picked on. There were people I didn't know very well, didn't want to know, or just plain didn't like. I see certain names on that list today that bring back embarrassing memories and very negative feelings. I know that I've grown up, and I'm sure the others have as well, but there's something inside of me that feels as insecure as the first day of my Freshman year when I see all those familiar names.
And now, 20 years later I can go back to my high school and say.... well, honestly I struggled with finishing this sentence for about 10 minutes. In quite a number of ways, I guess I feel like I would be less adequate than other classmates. But,since I don't know everyone else's situation, I can't compare. And I shouldn't compare anyway. It doesn't matter how much I make in a year, or how big or fancy my house is, or how many Cheerios and pine needles are in the back of my minivan. What matters is that I should be - and AM - happy with my life where it is right now, and happy with the possibilities of where it could take me next. If I show up to this reunion thinking that the rest of the class is better than me, then yeah, the whole weekend will be suckalicious. But if I show up thinking how awesome it will be to see of my Facebook friends in person, and I keep a positive outlook and attitude, then no other circumstances will matter. I may even find thatsome of the people I hated so long ago will become friends of mine.
That's what I hope to do- show up with a sunny disposition and make people think, "Wow, that Kate... she's really something!" People are attracted to those who feel attractive. I'm not sure that I ever really felt attractive in high school. But I can make up for that now because I am most definitely NOT the same person I was back then! So, even though it's months away still, here's hoping for a great reunion weekend, filled with making new friends!
Our 20 year reunion is this year. There has been a group formed on Facebook that has well over 150 people, out of the 365 or so in our graduating class. There are lots of "I'm so excited" and "I can't wait to see you guys" kind of comments. I've scrolled through the list of classmates and have found no more than 5 or 10 who I would want to be Facebook friends with, that I'm not already friends with. In other words, I'm not entirely sure there's many more people from my class that I would want to reconnect with who I haven't already. That is not said to offend anyone. Our high school was quite cliquey with many different, diverse groups of people, and the groups didn't always get along or bother to try to get along. As I said, I was quiet, shy. I was a 'music geek.' I played in the marching band, concert band and jazz band. I never did sports. I wasn't ever in the top 10 of our class. I never ran for Class President or got voted Homecoming Queen. I barely ever raised my hand in class. I was picked on. There were people I didn't know very well, didn't want to know, or just plain didn't like. I see certain names on that list today that bring back embarrassing memories and very negative feelings. I know that I've grown up, and I'm sure the others have as well, but there's something inside of me that feels as insecure as the first day of my Freshman year when I see all those familiar names.
And now, 20 years later I can go back to my high school and say.... well, honestly I struggled with finishing this sentence for about 10 minutes. In quite a number of ways, I guess I feel like I would be less adequate than other classmates. But,since I don't know everyone else's situation, I can't compare. And I shouldn't compare anyway. It doesn't matter how much I make in a year, or how big or fancy my house is, or how many Cheerios and pine needles are in the back of my minivan. What matters is that I should be - and AM - happy with my life where it is right now, and happy with the possibilities of where it could take me next. If I show up to this reunion thinking that the rest of the class is better than me, then yeah, the whole weekend will be suckalicious. But if I show up thinking how awesome it will be to see of my Facebook friends in person, and I keep a positive outlook and attitude, then no other circumstances will matter. I may even find that
That's what I hope to do- show up with a sunny disposition and make people think, "Wow, that Kate... she's really something!" People are attracted to those who feel attractive. I'm not sure that I ever really felt attractive in high school. But I can make up for that now because I am most definitely NOT the same person I was back then! So, even though it's months away still, here's hoping for a great reunion weekend, filled with making new friends!
The Power of Comments
I have gotten quite a few comments on various posts on this blog, all of which I appreciate. A few things have been pointed out to me that I would like to take note of.
In a personal message, a friend questioned why I put on the "happy face Kate" in just about every post and said she felt that I should rant a bit more. She also said that I spend a lot of time beating myself up over not being sunshiney all the time and not knowing what makes me happy. And she is absolutely right. One comment I received on yesterday's post reads, "Our lives change all the time... Life would be immensely dull and safe if change did not occur." This, too, is absolutely right. I have spent the past 6+ months telling myself that I need to be happy and positive all the time. This, of course, is not right. Everyone has down days, everyone gets upset. Everyone. Even the man who said in a seminar, "Everything is awesome, amazing and beautiful!" has a bad day now and then, I'm sure. I am proud of the changes that I have made within myself and I am enjoying a new outlook on life, as best as possible. But I am in completely new territory. I am still learning how to adjust to changes in my life and how best to deal with them. Sometimes I make mistakes. Sometimes I cry. Sometimes I get angry. Sometimes I just have to give myself a break and accept that these things are ok!
I have always been a private person. When I decided to start this blog, I realized that it could potentially reach thousands of people and they would all know any and everything about my life if I let them. I have done my best to protect those who are close to me, not speak badly of anyone and not air out my dirtiest, angriest secrets to the world. That's not who I am. Why I didn't make this a private blog, I'm not really sure. But I think that in part, having this be an open blog has helped me deal with my anger and negative feelings in a constructive way because I don't allow myself to go deep into specifics. Those who need to know, know. Getting past the hurt and negativity is not about "So and so did this or said that and hurt me." In any conflict, there are 2 sides. I have questioned and disagreed with the actions and decisions of others, but I have also made my mistakes. Whether I realized it at the time or not, I have also hurt others. I have my own responsibility for things that have happened in my life. And that's ok. I have regretted some of my actions and words, but for the most part, I have resolved them as best I can and moved on.
Change is inevitable, every day. No matter what plans we make, things rarely go exactly the way we intend them to. And, yes, life would be pretty boring otherwise. A certain amount of negativity is also inevitable, I think. Life would also be pretty boring if we were all happy every moment of every day. These things are acceptable, so long as we don't allow ourselves to sit and dwell on them for long periods of time. Recognize the not-so-good things, acknowledge them, decide how to handle them, take mental note of them, then put them away and move on. Let go. I have to tell myself that every single day. Let go. Then be ready to embrace whatever else is thrown at you.
Thank you for the comments and messages. I do appreciate them.
Cheers!
In a personal message, a friend questioned why I put on the "happy face Kate" in just about every post and said she felt that I should rant a bit more. She also said that I spend a lot of time beating myself up over not being sunshiney all the time and not knowing what makes me happy. And she is absolutely right. One comment I received on yesterday's post reads, "Our lives change all the time... Life would be immensely dull and safe if change did not occur." This, too, is absolutely right. I have spent the past 6+ months telling myself that I need to be happy and positive all the time. This, of course, is not right. Everyone has down days, everyone gets upset. Everyone. Even the man who said in a seminar, "Everything is awesome, amazing and beautiful!" has a bad day now and then, I'm sure. I am proud of the changes that I have made within myself and I am enjoying a new outlook on life, as best as possible. But I am in completely new territory. I am still learning how to adjust to changes in my life and how best to deal with them. Sometimes I make mistakes. Sometimes I cry. Sometimes I get angry. Sometimes I just have to give myself a break and accept that these things are ok!
I have always been a private person. When I decided to start this blog, I realized that it could potentially reach thousands of people and they would all know any and everything about my life if I let them. I have done my best to protect those who are close to me, not speak badly of anyone and not air out my dirtiest, angriest secrets to the world. That's not who I am. Why I didn't make this a private blog, I'm not really sure. But I think that in part, having this be an open blog has helped me deal with my anger and negative feelings in a constructive way because I don't allow myself to go deep into specifics. Those who need to know, know. Getting past the hurt and negativity is not about "So and so did this or said that and hurt me." In any conflict, there are 2 sides. I have questioned and disagreed with the actions and decisions of others, but I have also made my mistakes. Whether I realized it at the time or not, I have also hurt others. I have my own responsibility for things that have happened in my life. And that's ok. I have regretted some of my actions and words, but for the most part, I have resolved them as best I can and moved on.
Change is inevitable, every day. No matter what plans we make, things rarely go exactly the way we intend them to. And, yes, life would be pretty boring otherwise. A certain amount of negativity is also inevitable, I think. Life would also be pretty boring if we were all happy every moment of every day. These things are acceptable, so long as we don't allow ourselves to sit and dwell on them for long periods of time. Recognize the not-so-good things, acknowledge them, decide how to handle them, take mental note of them, then put them away and move on. Let go. I have to tell myself that every single day. Let go. Then be ready to embrace whatever else is thrown at you.
Thank you for the comments and messages. I do appreciate them.
Cheers!
Waiting
They say a habit is formed in 3 weeks. Do something everyday for 3 weeks, and it just becomes part of your routine. I have been writing this blog since May 30, 2010. For the first month I wrote something every day. This blog has become a part of my environment, in the sense that when I do something that makes me feel good I think, "I need to write about this." Unfortunately, when I'm feeling down it's easier to skip writing because I don't want to throw all my negative dirty laundry out for the world to see. However, when I'm feeling down is probably when I need to write the most.
I have been very conflicted lately. Which is ironic, I think, because the holidays are usually a tough time for people and I made it through a potentially very difficult holiday season fairly unscathed. But January, on the other hand... for some reason January has so far proven emotionally draining. Much of my emotional turmoil revolves around... can you guess? Yes, that's right - being alone! A number of relationships that were very dear to me have changed, and not all in a good way. This has caused me quite a deal of stress, which makes the alone factor that much harder. I know what some of you (*ahem*) are saying, and I quote: "You are -NEVER- alone. Call 24/7." And this is indeed true. I have hoards of people who have offered me their ears, shoulders, hugs, hands and anything else I could ask for. And please don't think I am ungrateful for that. The abundance of love I have felt is extremely humbling, and for that I will be eternally grateful. And yet, I still feel as if there's a piece to the puzzle missing. A couple pieces, perhaps. Relationships that I had known for years, suddenly changed and gone and the holes feel huge. Worse yet, I think, is my ability to strongly attach myself to what I want to be true. A hard fall from grace when I come to realize that my wants may not all be met. And thus, the gaping holes.
I have often wondered why it seems like such a task for me to be able to really discover who I am and what makes me happy. This should be easy, right? Everyone, by my age, should have themselves put together and figured out, know what direction their life is going in, what they want to do with themselves, etc. I wonder if I'm that far behind the times. If I have been that naive for so long. I thought I did have it figured out. I thought I knew who I was and what I wanted out of life, at least a little. Turns out I wasn't as put together as I had thought.
2010 feels like a starting-over point. Lots changed for me, and I most certainly am not the same person I was when 2009 came to a close. I can only hope that I have learned and will remember many lessons from the past year. I can only believe that where I am is exactly where I am suppose to be, and good things will come of the sitautions that have been presented to me. I have to say it again only to remind myself: I am a strong, beautiful, intelligent person. I am worth the wait.
My son just came downstairs and saw that I had been crying. He put his arms around me and kissed me on the head. My 3 kids are my strength, my rock, my reason for everything. They have helped pick me up and put me together in ways they may never know. They are worth the wait, too.
I have been very conflicted lately. Which is ironic, I think, because the holidays are usually a tough time for people and I made it through a potentially very difficult holiday season fairly unscathed. But January, on the other hand... for some reason January has so far proven emotionally draining. Much of my emotional turmoil revolves around... can you guess? Yes, that's right - being alone! A number of relationships that were very dear to me have changed, and not all in a good way. This has caused me quite a deal of stress, which makes the alone factor that much harder. I know what some of you (*ahem*) are saying, and I quote: "You are -NEVER- alone. Call 24/7." And this is indeed true. I have hoards of people who have offered me their ears, shoulders, hugs, hands and anything else I could ask for. And please don't think I am ungrateful for that. The abundance of love I have felt is extremely humbling, and for that I will be eternally grateful. And yet, I still feel as if there's a piece to the puzzle missing. A couple pieces, perhaps. Relationships that I had known for years, suddenly changed and gone and the holes feel huge. Worse yet, I think, is my ability to strongly attach myself to what I want to be true. A hard fall from grace when I come to realize that my wants may not all be met. And thus, the gaping holes.
I have often wondered why it seems like such a task for me to be able to really discover who I am and what makes me happy. This should be easy, right? Everyone, by my age, should have themselves put together and figured out, know what direction their life is going in, what they want to do with themselves, etc. I wonder if I'm that far behind the times. If I have been that naive for so long. I thought I did have it figured out. I thought I knew who I was and what I wanted out of life, at least a little. Turns out I wasn't as put together as I had thought.
2010 feels like a starting-over point. Lots changed for me, and I most certainly am not the same person I was when 2009 came to a close. I can only hope that I have learned and will remember many lessons from the past year. I can only believe that where I am is exactly where I am suppose to be, and good things will come of the sitautions that have been presented to me. I have to say it again only to remind myself: I am a strong, beautiful, intelligent person. I am worth the wait.
My son just came downstairs and saw that I had been crying. He put his arms around me and kissed me on the head. My 3 kids are my strength, my rock, my reason for everything. They have helped pick me up and put me together in ways they may never know. They are worth the wait, too.
Cleaning the House and the Soul
My house is cluttered. That is just a fact. With 3 kids, I could spend all day running from room to room picking things up and it would still be cluttered. Not that it's all their fault. I get lazy about picking my own things up too, sometimes. And, not to be offensive, but there are times when I swear I have obsessive-compulsive tendencies, in the sense that one day I just step over and around any little thing that's in my path, and the next I'm a whirlwind running around the house gathering up anything I can find that's out of place. And everyone knows that if you pick things up a little at a time it's easier to handle, but somehow that never really seems to happen around here.
Usually, I go on a cleaning spree when I know company is coming over. "Company" being just about anyone in any number. If I know someone's coming, I clean. If you want to see my house in it's "natural" state, drop by unannounced. On second thought, please don't. I love my friends, and I will never turn away a visitor, but the OCD-o-meter in me starts going crazy when I get a random guest: "Oh my gosh, there's 3 laundry baskets of clean clothes on the floor... there are toys all over the place... the table is covered in papers... my coat's not hung up.... AHHHH!" Generally speaking, I am fully aware that the Cleaning Police has not sent a spy to check out the condition of my living quarters, and my friends don't really care if my coat is not hung up or the laundry is not put away. But it bothers me all the same.
As much as I greatly dislike cleaning, I manage to find significant amounts of AHA in the act itself, and the outcome. Last night, at 9:15pm, I decided (and I'm still not really sure why) to clean out a couple of kitchen cabinets. One of the biggest problems I have with cleaning anything is that the act of cleaning is never contained to the one designated area. In order to clean out the microwave cart, I had to move some things into the cupboard over the counter. In order to clean out the cupboard over the counter, I had to purge some things that were already in there and move some other things into the pantry. In order to put things on the shelf in the pantry... well, you get the point. Thus, when I have the intention to clean one room, or one area of my house, half the house ends up getting rearranged. And I always -ALWAYS- make a bigger mess cleaning than what was there when I started. Most of the time, I can dissipate the mess in a day or two. Other times... well, let's just say other times I'm not so lucky.
I made myself go to bed just after 11pm yesterday, with the microwave cart (which holds many of my Tupperware-type storage containers) in complete disarray, and the counter covered in mugs and glassware. Yep. That's how I went to bed. Had to. Otherwise I would have stayed up all night cleaning (remember, OCD) and my boss wouldn't have appreciated that too much this morning. However, when I arrived home from work this evening, I had the house to myself and I knew it was the perfect opportunity to finish (most of) what I had started.
I cleaned off a spot on the counter next to the stove, where my laptop sat, playing Pandora so I could stay motivated and moving. I can't do much of anything (with the exception of writing this blog) without listening to music. I surveyed my mess, what had to go where, what my rules for disposal were, and got crackin'. I started at 6.
By 9pm, I had purged out all the unmatched Tupperware tops and bottoms and set them in a pile on the floor. I had neatly stacked up all the bottoms in piles of squares, rectangles and circles (hooray OCD). They all went in the bottom of the microwave cart. I had cleaned out the microwave cart drawer that was stuffed full of old cooking magazines and bibs. The tops that coordinated with the bottoms were stacked neatly in piles and placed in the drawer, along with the best of the dishtowels. I wiped down the countertop on the other side of the kitchen and organized the toaster over, the Keurig, and the EasyBake oven to fit along the wall under the cupboard. I organized the cupboard below the counter to better fit the cooking pans.
While sitting on the floor rearranging the appliances and pans in the cupboard, I scrubbed the cupboard doors and the back door, to discover that they are white, not gray! I removed every last piece of glassware from the cupboard above the counter and packed some of them in a box. I rearranged the kitchen appliances on the top shelf of the cupboard and took a couple coffee makers out to be put in the basement for now. (I had 3 coffee makers! What does one need with 3 different coffee makers?!) I rearranged the plates, bowls, mugs, plastic cups and glassware to be more efficient in the space used. In the newly empty space, I put a stack of mixing bowls, my basket of coffee and accessories, and the sugar container. I cleaned out some random things on the floor of the pantry, and moved some things around to clear off a shelf, which now houses some of my biggest plastic storage containers. With the floor cleaner, I can now actually step into the pantry instead of having to lean all the way in to reach for what I want.
I dusted off the top of the microwave cart, and threw out a bunch of random junk that had accumulated there. I found a nice mug tree that I've always liked but never had a place for and put it on the top of the microwave cart, along with the new blender Santa got me for Christmas and some cute snowman mugs. I straightened up and dusted off the cookbooks that are where the microwave is suppose to be. Voila! The microwave cart is clean! The counter is clean! The cupboard is tidy! And there's a whole pile of stuff to go in the recycle bin and trash can!
It's only one very small portion of my house, but it felt good to really clean. I have a lot more ahead of me, but little by little I can handle it, and almost enjoy it. It's sort of therapeutic to purge and clean out. And, as I said, the end result makes it all worth it. The AHA of having a clean space by far outweighs the annoyance of actually cleaning it!
Usually, I go on a cleaning spree when I know company is coming over. "Company" being just about anyone in any number. If I know someone's coming, I clean. If you want to see my house in it's "natural" state, drop by unannounced. On second thought, please don't. I love my friends, and I will never turn away a visitor, but the OCD-o-meter in me starts going crazy when I get a random guest: "Oh my gosh, there's 3 laundry baskets of clean clothes on the floor... there are toys all over the place... the table is covered in papers... my coat's not hung up.... AHHHH!" Generally speaking, I am fully aware that the Cleaning Police has not sent a spy to check out the condition of my living quarters, and my friends don't really care if my coat is not hung up or the laundry is not put away. But it bothers me all the same.
As much as I greatly dislike cleaning, I manage to find significant amounts of AHA in the act itself, and the outcome. Last night, at 9:15pm, I decided (and I'm still not really sure why) to clean out a couple of kitchen cabinets. One of the biggest problems I have with cleaning anything is that the act of cleaning is never contained to the one designated area. In order to clean out the microwave cart, I had to move some things into the cupboard over the counter. In order to clean out the cupboard over the counter, I had to purge some things that were already in there and move some other things into the pantry. In order to put things on the shelf in the pantry... well, you get the point. Thus, when I have the intention to clean one room, or one area of my house, half the house ends up getting rearranged. And I always -ALWAYS- make a bigger mess cleaning than what was there when I started. Most of the time, I can dissipate the mess in a day or two. Other times... well, let's just say other times I'm not so lucky.
I made myself go to bed just after 11pm yesterday, with the microwave cart (which holds many of my Tupperware-type storage containers) in complete disarray, and the counter covered in mugs and glassware. Yep. That's how I went to bed. Had to. Otherwise I would have stayed up all night cleaning (remember, OCD) and my boss wouldn't have appreciated that too much this morning. However, when I arrived home from work this evening, I had the house to myself and I knew it was the perfect opportunity to finish (most of) what I had started.
I cleaned off a spot on the counter next to the stove, where my laptop sat, playing Pandora so I could stay motivated and moving. I can't do much of anything (with the exception of writing this blog) without listening to music. I surveyed my mess, what had to go where, what my rules for disposal were, and got crackin'. I started at 6.
By 9pm, I had purged out all the unmatched Tupperware tops and bottoms and set them in a pile on the floor. I had neatly stacked up all the bottoms in piles of squares, rectangles and circles (hooray OCD). They all went in the bottom of the microwave cart. I had cleaned out the microwave cart drawer that was stuffed full of old cooking magazines and bibs. The tops that coordinated with the bottoms were stacked neatly in piles and placed in the drawer, along with the best of the dishtowels. I wiped down the countertop on the other side of the kitchen and organized the toaster over, the Keurig, and the EasyBake oven to fit along the wall under the cupboard. I organized the cupboard below the counter to better fit the cooking pans.
While sitting on the floor rearranging the appliances and pans in the cupboard, I scrubbed the cupboard doors and the back door, to discover that they are white, not gray! I removed every last piece of glassware from the cupboard above the counter and packed some of them in a box. I rearranged the kitchen appliances on the top shelf of the cupboard and took a couple coffee makers out to be put in the basement for now. (I had 3 coffee makers! What does one need with 3 different coffee makers?!) I rearranged the plates, bowls, mugs, plastic cups and glassware to be more efficient in the space used. In the newly empty space, I put a stack of mixing bowls, my basket of coffee and accessories, and the sugar container. I cleaned out some random things on the floor of the pantry, and moved some things around to clear off a shelf, which now houses some of my biggest plastic storage containers. With the floor cleaner, I can now actually step into the pantry instead of having to lean all the way in to reach for what I want.
I dusted off the top of the microwave cart, and threw out a bunch of random junk that had accumulated there. I found a nice mug tree that I've always liked but never had a place for and put it on the top of the microwave cart, along with the new blender Santa got me for Christmas and some cute snowman mugs. I straightened up and dusted off the cookbooks that are where the microwave is suppose to be. Voila! The microwave cart is clean! The counter is clean! The cupboard is tidy! And there's a whole pile of stuff to go in the recycle bin and trash can!
It's only one very small portion of my house, but it felt good to really clean. I have a lot more ahead of me, but little by little I can handle it, and almost enjoy it. It's sort of therapeutic to purge and clean out. And, as I said, the end result makes it all worth it. The AHA of having a clean space by far outweighs the annoyance of actually cleaning it!
Sledding
I love organizing social events. Not sure when this interest really came about, but I truly love entertaining people (be it 1 or 30) at my house, gathering a group of kids and their parents to play, coordinating a party, etc. I've been the catalyst for a number of gatherings this past year, all of which were fairly successful, I think. Today was another one, and honestly it was a step outside my confort zone.
I decided I wanted to take my kids sledding. I mentioned it to a friend/coworker, who suggested a great hill at the Country Club, on the outskirts of town. So last week, I sent an email to as many people as I could think of in the fairly immediate area, inviting them to meet at this hill to play in the snow. Generally speaking, I don't really like to play in the snow. However, I am working on this! I have a couple of friends who love to "play" in the snow, i.e. skiing, snowshoeing, sledding... whatever they can do outside during the winter. And everytime I hear them speak passionately about these outdoor winter activities, a very small part of me wants to partake in the fun. A larger part of me reminds me that it's drier and warmer inside, but this time, I took the plunge. And once I invited others, and had a few responses that they would be there, I knew I couldn't back out!
My 2 youngest kids have been a bit under the weather, and ultimately I felt that taking them out in the cold probably wasn't the best idea. So they stayed with their Grammy, while the oldest and I bundled up to "hit the slopes" (so to speak). It was windy today, and cold, but not unbearable. When we arrived at the hill, a few others I had invited were already there. We were followed very shortly thereafter by a number of other friends. Total, there were 10 adults (including one couple who don't even have kids) and 7 kids in our little posse. Everyone had a blast. Even me, Little Miss Hibernation. A few of us adults served as the cheering section, opting out of the sledding action, but perfectly content whooping it up for those who did go and pushing and pulling whomever down or up the hill, as needed. The kids ranged in age from 18 months to 9 years, and all had a great time daring the slope by themselves (with the exception of the littlest) or in some combination with other kids or adults. There were no trees to hit, at least not in a direct shot, and there were only a few minor people collisions with no sustained injuries, not even any crying.
Although I didn't sled, it was fabulous to watch the others, kids and adults, going down the hill. Some went fast, some went slow. Sleds turned in 180s. What started out as a straight shot ended up a diagonal line. One of our younger friends somehow ended up with his feet in the air each time he went on a sled alone. One of our adult friends took a tumble and rolled nicely out of the sled, to the amusement of the cheering section. A couple people tried to hit the 2 different "jumps" that had been built up, with some success. Two of the kids who were in a sled together actually got a little air on a jump. The kids rolled around in the snow at the bottom of the hill. My son forged his way off the beaten-down path and made his own trails. It was exhilirating to me just to watch and cheer for the others. And I barely noticed that my fingers and toes were frozen.
On the way home, my son asked why I didn't sled, and when I didn't have a good answer, he said, "Well, you should have. It was fun." Yep, probably could have brought myself to go down the hill just once. I had a great time anyway, and was completely surrounded by AHA. Didn't really mind that I didn't sled, but next time I will for sure.
I decided I wanted to take my kids sledding. I mentioned it to a friend/coworker, who suggested a great hill at the Country Club, on the outskirts of town. So last week, I sent an email to as many people as I could think of in the fairly immediate area, inviting them to meet at this hill to play in the snow. Generally speaking, I don't really like to play in the snow. However, I am working on this! I have a couple of friends who love to "play" in the snow, i.e. skiing, snowshoeing, sledding... whatever they can do outside during the winter. And everytime I hear them speak passionately about these outdoor winter activities, a very small part of me wants to partake in the fun. A larger part of me reminds me that it's drier and warmer inside, but this time, I took the plunge. And once I invited others, and had a few responses that they would be there, I knew I couldn't back out!
My 2 youngest kids have been a bit under the weather, and ultimately I felt that taking them out in the cold probably wasn't the best idea. So they stayed with their Grammy, while the oldest and I bundled up to "hit the slopes" (so to speak). It was windy today, and cold, but not unbearable. When we arrived at the hill, a few others I had invited were already there. We were followed very shortly thereafter by a number of other friends. Total, there were 10 adults (including one couple who don't even have kids) and 7 kids in our little posse. Everyone had a blast. Even me, Little Miss Hibernation. A few of us adults served as the cheering section, opting out of the sledding action, but perfectly content whooping it up for those who did go and pushing and pulling whomever down or up the hill, as needed. The kids ranged in age from 18 months to 9 years, and all had a great time daring the slope by themselves (with the exception of the littlest) or in some combination with other kids or adults. There were no trees to hit, at least not in a direct shot, and there were only a few minor people collisions with no sustained injuries, not even any crying.
Although I didn't sled, it was fabulous to watch the others, kids and adults, going down the hill. Some went fast, some went slow. Sleds turned in 180s. What started out as a straight shot ended up a diagonal line. One of our younger friends somehow ended up with his feet in the air each time he went on a sled alone. One of our adult friends took a tumble and rolled nicely out of the sled, to the amusement of the cheering section. A couple people tried to hit the 2 different "jumps" that had been built up, with some success. Two of the kids who were in a sled together actually got a little air on a jump. The kids rolled around in the snow at the bottom of the hill. My son forged his way off the beaten-down path and made his own trails. It was exhilirating to me just to watch and cheer for the others. And I barely noticed that my fingers and toes were frozen.
On the way home, my son asked why I didn't sled, and when I didn't have a good answer, he said, "Well, you should have. It was fun." Yep, probably could have brought myself to go down the hill just once. I had a great time anyway, and was completely surrounded by AHA. Didn't really mind that I didn't sled, but next time I will for sure.
The Need to Be Needed
I was never one of those kids who knew what they wanted to be when they grew up. At least not that I remember. I do remember wanting to be Nadia Comaneci, the Olympic gymnast, when I was young. Besides that, I don't ever remember saying, "I want to be a teacher, or an astronaut" or as my oldest tells me, "a palentologist."
Now that I'm 37 (closing in on 38), I still don't really know what I want to be when I grow up. I love live radio. The other day I engineered 3 hours of live coverage of Governor Cuomo's State of the State address. Honestly, I can't tell you a thing he said in his speech (or any of the other speeches that took place) but I had a great time being the engineer and making sure that everything worked exactly as it was suppose to. Election night, you may recall, was the best 8 hour stretch I've had in a very long time. I also have a passion for photos and scrapbooks. I love taking and looking at photos of my family, and I really love creating scrapbooks and projects with those photos.
I am, by nature, a shy person (go ahead, laugh...). I enjoy spending time doing the things that I like to do. I also enjoy getting the house cleaned, which is something I can't usually do with 3 kids around. I like having time to myself. Ironically, I also very much enjoy having others as company. Rarely do I willingly enter into a situation where I know I will have to be by myself. My first college roommate was a friend from high school. All the years I went to camp as a kid, I knew at least one other person in my cabin. The first time, I think, when I did something truly by myself was in 1996 when I left New York and moved to Florida. No one expected that out of me. But I did it. I moved for a job, and I can't really say that I regret it. It was a bold decision for me, and I learned a lot while I was there, so I think it was a right decision. I gathered up my confidence to make friends, and had a very nice time living in the panhandle of Florida for 2 years.
As I have grown older and learned things about me and life in general, I have come to realize that perhaps I may never really know what I want to be when I grow up. One thing I do know is that I want to be needed. I enjoy helping others, listening to their problems (although I may not always have good advice, I think I'm a good listener), giving advice when I can, being able to make someone laugh or at least smile, and just being there for someone. On nights when the kids are with their dad, I feel kind of useless. Lonely. Like I'm not needed. Of course, I know this isn't true because as soon as they run out of underwear, I'm suddenly needed... like, yesterday! I think that's part of the reason I don't like to be alone, because there's no one to need me. I would rather enjoy someone's company while doing dishes, folding laundry or just listening to music than do any of that alone. If there's company, I can offer them coffee or dinner. I can entertain them by putting on a movie or Wii game. I can learn about them and share myself by talking and telling stories. I love to be useful to others. That's just another means of AHA for me. So, while I ask that you please don't blatantly take advantage of me, I am happy to be of just about any use to you that I can!
Now that I'm 37 (closing in on 38), I still don't really know what I want to be when I grow up. I love live radio. The other day I engineered 3 hours of live coverage of Governor Cuomo's State of the State address. Honestly, I can't tell you a thing he said in his speech (or any of the other speeches that took place) but I had a great time being the engineer and making sure that everything worked exactly as it was suppose to. Election night, you may recall, was the best 8 hour stretch I've had in a very long time. I also have a passion for photos and scrapbooks. I love taking and looking at photos of my family, and I really love creating scrapbooks and projects with those photos.
I am, by nature, a shy person (go ahead, laugh...). I enjoy spending time doing the things that I like to do. I also enjoy getting the house cleaned, which is something I can't usually do with 3 kids around. I like having time to myself. Ironically, I also very much enjoy having others as company. Rarely do I willingly enter into a situation where I know I will have to be by myself. My first college roommate was a friend from high school. All the years I went to camp as a kid, I knew at least one other person in my cabin. The first time, I think, when I did something truly by myself was in 1996 when I left New York and moved to Florida. No one expected that out of me. But I did it. I moved for a job, and I can't really say that I regret it. It was a bold decision for me, and I learned a lot while I was there, so I think it was a right decision. I gathered up my confidence to make friends, and had a very nice time living in the panhandle of Florida for 2 years.
As I have grown older and learned things about me and life in general, I have come to realize that perhaps I may never really know what I want to be when I grow up. One thing I do know is that I want to be needed. I enjoy helping others, listening to their problems (although I may not always have good advice, I think I'm a good listener), giving advice when I can, being able to make someone laugh or at least smile, and just being there for someone. On nights when the kids are with their dad, I feel kind of useless. Lonely. Like I'm not needed. Of course, I know this isn't true because as soon as they run out of underwear, I'm suddenly needed... like, yesterday! I think that's part of the reason I don't like to be alone, because there's no one to need me. I would rather enjoy someone's company while doing dishes, folding laundry or just listening to music than do any of that alone. If there's company, I can offer them coffee or dinner. I can entertain them by putting on a movie or Wii game. I can learn about them and share myself by talking and telling stories. I love to be useful to others. That's just another means of AHA for me. So, while I ask that you please don't blatantly take advantage of me, I am happy to be of just about any use to you that I can!
Next Verse, Same as the First... Or is It?
So far, the new year feels exactly like the old year. Ok, no it doesn't. Not in the least. Not one single stinkin' bit, really. I take great pride in knowing that I have made plenty of strides in improving who I was and taking the time to discover and invent who I really want to be. I am more comfortable and happy with myself than I have been in a very long time. And this continues to be evident by the messages I receive from unexpected people. I am humbled and honored that I have inadvertantly touched so many other people's lives. That is a great feeling of AHA.
I had a friend visiting over New Year's weekend. Sunday the kids had gone with their dad, so she and I did some errands and got a lot done around the house. All the while, we were laughing, making jokes at ourselves and each other, talking girl talk, saying outrageous things, and cracking each other up! I said things to her that I don't think have ever crossed my mind before. I made jokes that usually make me blush when I hear others say them. We got a LOT done together, and had an absolutely marvelous time doing it all! By the end of the day, my gut seriously hurt from laughing so much! It was truly the best day that I have had in a while.
All that made me realize that I am quite a funny person, I am pretty talented, and I've done a few things that others have not. I am not saying those things to brag, but lately I have noticed a big correlation between my happiness level and my confidence level. Who knew it could be so easy to be confident in myself? Or happy with myself? Such simple logic somehow passed me by for many years. When I can convince myself I am happy, I become more confident. And when I can convince myself that I am confident, I become happier. It's about damn time I figured that out! I have said before to others as well as myself, if you can fake it long enough, eventually you start to really believe it.
I have decided that 2011 will be a good year. Yes, we are only 4 days into the first month, but I am bound and determined to MAKE 2011 a good year. I have 101 reasons, if not more, to want it to be a good year. And there is no reason that it can't be the best year yet. So, once again, my resolutions:
I had a friend visiting over New Year's weekend. Sunday the kids had gone with their dad, so she and I did some errands and got a lot done around the house. All the while, we were laughing, making jokes at ourselves and each other, talking girl talk, saying outrageous things, and cracking each other up! I said things to her that I don't think have ever crossed my mind before. I made jokes that usually make me blush when I hear others say them. We got a LOT done together, and had an absolutely marvelous time doing it all! By the end of the day, my gut seriously hurt from laughing so much! It was truly the best day that I have had in a while.
All that made me realize that I am quite a funny person, I am pretty talented, and I've done a few things that others have not. I am not saying those things to brag, but lately I have noticed a big correlation between my happiness level and my confidence level. Who knew it could be so easy to be confident in myself? Or happy with myself? Such simple logic somehow passed me by for many years. When I can convince myself I am happy, I become more confident. And when I can convince myself that I am confident, I become happier. It's about damn time I figured that out! I have said before to others as well as myself, if you can fake it long enough, eventually you start to really believe it.
I have decided that 2011 will be a good year. Yes, we are only 4 days into the first month, but I am bound and determined to MAKE 2011 a good year. I have 101 reasons, if not more, to want it to be a good year. And there is no reason that it can't be the best year yet. So, once again, my resolutions:
- I resolve to not let my fears crush my spirit. I can and will overcome anything I want to. The valleys only make the peaks greater.
- I resolve to keep my focus on the things that enrich my life every day. My kids, my family, my friends, my job, my scrapbooks, my friends, my kids, laughter... so many things to be grateful for!
- I resolve to do my best to make myself and others happy. And I will make myself and others happy without compromising anything that I believe in. To quote a wonderful, wise, very dear friend, "...don't compromise any part of yourself -just- to make someone else happy. Anyone who asks that of you doesn't think highly enough of you to deserve your gift of happiness. Be yourself first, then rain your particular brand of happiness down on those who look a little dry in that regard."
- I resolve to love others the way that I have been loved. I have been George Bailey and I have seen the love come pouring in. I will do the same for others.
- I resolve to love myself the way that others have loved me. Can't love others until you love yourself. A lesson I needed to learn a long time ago, but I guess it's never too late. I am perfectly imperfect and happy because of it.
- I resolve to get out there and live the best life I can! Learn new things, enjoy my kids, spend time with new and old friends, get outdoors, breathe deeply and enjoy every moment that I can.
Letting Go of the Past, and Ringing in the New Year
New Year's Eve! A few months ago, I had hoped to do something "big" for New Year's Eve, like visit friends in Florida or go to Times Square, or something! Needless to say, none of those plans came to be, so I invited a number of people to my house to hang out with me and my kids. Not unexpectedly, most people had other plans and only one person ended up coming over. Which was actually fine, because I hadn't really cleaned up from Christmas and my house is a complete wreck and a half! Not that most people would mind that, but still... I have my OCD issues with cleaning my house when I know I'm going to have company.
Anyway, Sandy, the kids and I ended up playing Just Dance, Just Dance Kids and Just Dance 2 on Wii for about 3 hours! And we all had a blast!! It was a trip to watch my 3 kids following the dancer and imitating their movements, and arguing over who was going to be the next to pick a song. My youngest was starting to get very tired, so I danced a few songs holding him in my arms (which is QUITE the workout!), and my daughter was starting to fade, too. We were all having a really good time, and the kids were being super well behaved.
Around 11:00, I made them all change into pajamas and brush their teeth. I put the little one to bed, because he just couldn't take it anymore. My daughter was insitant on dancing a little more, and my oldest was still going pretty strong so we danced another couple of songs before turning on the TV to watch the ball drop. Once they settled onto the couch the game was over! My daughter was out by 11:50, and although my son hung on until about 12:30 or so, he was very tired.
2011 already has better potential than 2010 did. I'm not really a superstitious person, but when you start a new year by fighting with your spouse, it's probably not going to lead to great things. At least it didn't for me. 2010 can officially go down in the books as probably my worst year. But also my best year. There was a lot of balance between the bad and the good that has taken place over the last year, and in the grand scheme of things, my life is still pretty damn good. In the spirit of finding myself anew and creating the me that I really enjoy and want to be, I am going to do my very best to forgive and let go of all the negative things of 2010, and forge ahead with renewed energy to make 2011 the best that I can. It will not be perfect. There will be things that happen which I don't like. I will be faced with negativity. I will be in bad moods now and then. I will falter from time to time at keeping my resolutions. I will anger and upset people, and be angered and upset by others. But all that is natural, and ok, if I choose to deal with things in a positive manner. I will also find new friendships, and rekindle old ones. I will make new memories with my kids. I will love and be loved like never before. I will help others, based on experiences that I have gone through. I will learn and do new things. I will enjoy myself more than I ever have been able to before. Why? Because I have new sights, new goals, new ambitions and a new purpose in life. I still don't really know what I want to be when I grow up, but now I know that I want to BE truly happy and make others truly happy, too. And so it is.
Happy New Year! Cheers to all the best in 2011!
Anyway, Sandy, the kids and I ended up playing Just Dance, Just Dance Kids and Just Dance 2 on Wii for about 3 hours! And we all had a blast!! It was a trip to watch my 3 kids following the dancer and imitating their movements, and arguing over who was going to be the next to pick a song. My youngest was starting to get very tired, so I danced a few songs holding him in my arms (which is QUITE the workout!), and my daughter was starting to fade, too. We were all having a really good time, and the kids were being super well behaved.
Around 11:00, I made them all change into pajamas and brush their teeth. I put the little one to bed, because he just couldn't take it anymore. My daughter was insitant on dancing a little more, and my oldest was still going pretty strong so we danced another couple of songs before turning on the TV to watch the ball drop. Once they settled onto the couch the game was over! My daughter was out by 11:50, and although my son hung on until about 12:30 or so, he was very tired.
2011 already has better potential than 2010 did. I'm not really a superstitious person, but when you start a new year by fighting with your spouse, it's probably not going to lead to great things. At least it didn't for me. 2010 can officially go down in the books as probably my worst year. But also my best year. There was a lot of balance between the bad and the good that has taken place over the last year, and in the grand scheme of things, my life is still pretty damn good. In the spirit of finding myself anew and creating the me that I really enjoy and want to be, I am going to do my very best to forgive and let go of all the negative things of 2010, and forge ahead with renewed energy to make 2011 the best that I can. It will not be perfect. There will be things that happen which I don't like. I will be faced with negativity. I will be in bad moods now and then. I will falter from time to time at keeping my resolutions. I will anger and upset people, and be angered and upset by others. But all that is natural, and ok, if I choose to deal with things in a positive manner. I will also find new friendships, and rekindle old ones. I will make new memories with my kids. I will love and be loved like never before. I will help others, based on experiences that I have gone through. I will learn and do new things. I will enjoy myself more than I ever have been able to before. Why? Because I have new sights, new goals, new ambitions and a new purpose in life. I still don't really know what I want to be when I grow up, but now I know that I want to BE truly happy and make others truly happy, too. And so it is.
Happy New Year! Cheers to all the best in 2011!
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