5 Things You Should Never Do During Chemo Treatments

“Cancer. The word meant the same to me as tsunami or piranha. I had never seen them; I wasn't even quite sure what they were, but I knew they were bad and I knew in many cases they were deadly.”
― Natalie Palmer

One of my very, very good friends has gone and gotten breast cancer.  She's now inundated with appointments, information, more appointments and the well-meaning actions of the few people she has told.  She's living every single day by putting one foot in front of the other and just getting through it. 

Because she's just not ready to go public, we're going to call her MGFWC (My Good Friend With Cancer) for short.  Actually, we'll just drop it down to MF to keep the character count down.  MF has been through a lot these past few years and cancer is just the icing on the sh*t cake she's been living.  (Yeah, I said "sh*t cake."  And I meant it.) And just a few weeks ago, she had been presented with the chemo treatment facility where her doctor has privileges to treat.  Laughing, she told me about her visit with the Chemo Nurse who showed her around. The sad little room was barren with a couple of chairs and no television or any artwork on the walls.  It was a dreary room intended for an even drearier purpose.

"We have Wifi," Chemo Nurse said proudly.  I think MF (who, I just found out, has her nephew download things onto her computer because she just doesn't "get it") was singularly unimpressed.  The nurse THEN said that they strongly encouraged interaction between patients during treatment.  MF may have mumbled something about having enough friends and the average age of the other patients being old enough to remember the suffragist movement.

MF then said perhaps I should write blog posts to entertain her during treatment.  So, I shall.  The first one is all about Things You Shouldn't Do During Chemo. I mean, she doesn't have TV.  But she DOES have Wifi.  And she's a freakin' troublemaker.

1. Porn.  The very first thing you should not do during chemo is surf porn sites with your tablet.  If you accidentally knocked the headphone jack out of your tablet, then everyone (including that Chemo Nurse) would hear the...well...whatever sounds it is that people in porn sites make.  Also, I hear those things aren't free and you should probably be saving money for your deductible.
2. Sing out loud.  OK, I REALIZE that when we were little kids Karen Carpenter encouraged us to "sing, sing a song...sing out loud...sing out strong" but, c'mon.  Unless your name is Beyonce or Kelly Clarkson, no one really wants to hear you singing.  Especially during chemo.  Because for goodnesssake people are SICK.  They're already feeling nauseous from that chemical cocktail coursing through their bodies and you over there belting out "My Way" isn't going to help anyone.
3. Scratch yourself.  You might be itchy.  And uncomfortable.  But did you ever notice how, when you're in the room with people who are scratching themselves, all of the sudden you feel itchy, too?  I feel kind of itchy just WRITING about scratching.  Oogie.  No one needs cancer cooties.  
4. Cry.  Nope.  Not the time and not the place.  We'll go to another oldie but a goodie:  "Don't Cry Out Loud," that old Melissa Manchester favorite that begs you to very healthily stuff everything inside.  "Learn how to hide your feelings."  'Cause that's totally what well-adjusted people do.  Like baseball, however, there is no crying in chemo.  Crying is for later with a pint of chocolate ice cream and Lifetime Television for Women.  ('Cause just THINK, YOU could be imprisoned for a crime you didn't commit or have a cheating husband just like those poor chicks on the Lifetime Movie Network.) 
5. Call me.  Whatever you do during your treatments, you should probably avoid any phone calls to me.  This is not only because I'm now working in a highly library-like environment but it is also because I am likely to be fairly irreverent and make wise-cracks about cancer and the other people sitting beside you and Nurse Ratchet and pretty much raise holy heck on the other end of the phone.  And because you're getting cancer treatments and not treatments for some kind of bladder problem, you probably aren't wearing Depends undergarments. This can be a problem for excessive laughter. And I will not be held responsible for the stains on your seat because of that fact.  

I love you, MF.  I truly do.  And I have a lot of faith that you're going to make it through this.  And that your life is going to be amazing.  And that we'll be sitting together in rocking chairs when we're 102, drinking tequila and telling dirty jokes to the staff at the nursing home.

You've totally got this.  And when you don't have the strength...you've got a lot of people who will carry you.

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5 Secrets To Keep Life from Keeping You Tired

“Winston was gelatinous with fatigue.”
― George Orwell, 1984

Maybe coffee is the answer?

The very last time I remember being exceptionally well-rested was 1999.  Newly pregnant, I was weary due to that whole business of actually manufacturing human life in the walls of my uterus. I slept.  Oh, how I slept.  I would come home after work and climb into bed at 8 pm where I would snooze away blissfully until the snooze button was worn to the nub.

Then, Thing 1 was born and all notions of sleep left with the incessant wailing of the newborn, the finicky restlessness of the baby, the 5 am wake-up calls of the toddler and the ever-present one-ear-open-because-what-if-he-needs-me of the child.  Then came the teenager that wakes me up in the middle of the night with the hushed laughter and murmurs of forbidden late night phone calls, Skype sessions or online video game parties.

My forties came calling and with it endless nocturnal wanderings at 3 a.m.

WTF?

I don't remember NOT being tired. I'm tired right now and I haven't done a damn thing all day except attend meetings, send emails and jot down a few notes. Well, I worked out halfheartedly and slapped together a mildly nourishing, somewhat edible dinner. Short of just going to bed at 5 pm and ignoring the rest of my life, I've got to figure out a way to combat this incessant fatigue that prevents me from being the world-famous figure I am almost certainly destined to be.

I must have a plan. 

1.  Eat fewer fat-girl calories.  Let's take one night a couple weeks ago, for example.  I stopped by the grocery store on the way home.  Famished and exceptionally susceptible to grocery-line suggestive selling, I chucked a Snickers bar on the belt.  I didn't really WANT a Snickers bar but, let me tell you, I WANTED A SNICKERS BAR.  I read the useless, wasted calorie count and the "imma make you fat" sugar content conveniently AFTER I snarfed the bar.  All that stupid sugar makes you feel sooo good and then it makes you feel so very, very, very tired.  And to punish myself, I basically licked water off the counter for dinner

2. Treat exercise like a date to the movies.  I would never, ever skip a date to the movies.  I don't even care what movie it is.  I am NEVER late to a movie.  I always show up early and sit there, breathless, waiting for the dancing popcorn to start its entertaining jaunt across the screen.  And then I am fully engaged in that. But exercise?  I think of any excuse I can to skip it, be late or half-ass it.  But, truly, the more active you are, the less tired you are.  I don't know why it works this way other than the notion that the universe is obviously pitted against me.

3.  Stop trying to control everything.  Very, very little is actually under your control.  And trying to rein in all of the earth and its inhabitants is a pretty big job.  And exhausting.  I am pretty much limiting my little corner of control to...myself.  Sure, I have some influence over Things 1 and 2 but, quite honestly, at this point they're in control of themselves. I have to trust them to make good decisions and use me as a parental consultant on an as-needed basis.

4.  Sleep.  I'm getting good at this one (with the obvious exception of my odd middle-of-the-night random wakening).  If it's not finished by 9, I probably shouldn't be doing it.   Nothing good comes not after midnight but after 9pm.  And that includes cookies.  And one last glass of wine.

5. Practice joy. It may seem like a weird concept to actually practice joy. But human nature allows us to often focus on the What Ifs and the But This Could Happens of life. I prefer to dwell on the infinite possibilities of the hidden surprises that life often presents me as a gift. Last night, I looked up while The Boyfriend and I were heading to the garden for late-night tomato picking and I gasped. The stars were stretched out across the sky in a velvet blanket of wishes and dreams. It was magical. And an instant boost to my weary self.

There are a lot of things we can do every day to ease the weariness of life drudgery that makes us want to forego the bucket list and head for the couch. But the main thing is this: take care of yourself. If you are running around taking care of everyone else first and ignoring your own physical, spiritual and emotional well-being, there will come a day when you are introduced to the wall of life. And that wall will quickly force you to your knees. 

So today, take care of YOU. In one small way, take one small step and reclaim your vigor...your hunger for life. Just say no to being tired all the time.  Instead of folding laundry, read a book. Feed your life. And it will, in turn, nourish you.

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New Year's Resolutions and Other Fairy Tales

“So what do we do? Anything. Something. So long as we just don't sit there. If we screw it up, start over. Try something else. If we wait until we've satisfied all the uncertainties, it may be too late. "
- Lee Iacocca

Photo by Ned Stark (www.good-wallpapers.com)

2014.  It's a brand new year! You'll have to forgive me for being somewhat self-congratulatory this morning because a) I did NOT overindulge last night in the adult beverages (which makes me feel ever so much more adult and b) I am pretty darn proud of the changes I made last year.  One of my dearest family members put the year into perspective for me a couple of days ago:  "You hung in there and did all the right things--including facing your own demons and slaying them."  So step off, demons.  I will cut you.

So now it's time to up the ante.  It's the New Year.  But here's the thing about resolutions:  I HATE THEM.  They're kinda like lists for me.  I just don't participate.  I have this wishy washy feeling that change is organic and should come from your gut and not from this thing that society tells you to change.

Let's address typical resolutions one by one:

1.  I will lose weight in the new year.  This is the granddaddy of 'em all.  Ever been to the gym in January? It's tough to find a treadmill.  Everyone there is decked out in their new fancy schmancy workout gear and they're sweating and puffing.  For about two weeks.  And then life gets in the way.  And they head back to the couch.  This resolution is worthless.  I make the same one every weekend: "I am going to get SERIOUS about eating healthy and getting fitter."  And then Monday comes.  And I don't get serious.  If I was serious about it, I wouldn't talk.  I would do.  I know this because I've done it.  And I didn't talk about it while I was doing it.  I just did it.  How can we make this a reality?  Don't make it a resolution.  Make it a life.  It's not about losing weight at all:  it's about getting healthy and making good choices for your body.  You in? I'm in...on Monday.  
2. I will be a better person (insert: kinder, more honest, loving...whatever your adjective of choice is).  Here's another one that I fail at continually.  I am a sin-filled ridiculous human being.  I am selfish, mean, lazy, and highly distracted.  If you tell yourself that you're going to be a better person then you are probably going to fail.  (I'm sorry....is that too honest?)  But maybe you should approach it a different way.  Let's all decide to take each day as it comes.  Maybe we'll start small:  I won't say that mean thought OUT LOUD.  I will do one nice thing for one person today.  I will eat dinner before I eat dessert.  Whatever it is...make it small.  Incremental change is so much easier to stomach and more likely to stick.  Don't be resolute.  Just be different.
3. I will change my money habits in the new year.  Having been there and done that, I can say that, like the losing weight thing, this isn't a resolution.  This is a life.  This is making the choice to be responsible.  A very good friend taught me this rule:  Is it nice or is it necessary?  Sadly, MOST of the things I want in life are niceties...NOT necessities.  Food for my kids?  Necessary.  Filet mignon?  Nice.  Most of my clothing was getting frayed and/or picked with holes this last year.  (I am not a shoe girl or a clothes horse.  I am PRACTICAL when it comes to clothing.)  I actually had to buy clothes for work as a NECESSITY.  But I know a lot of people who buy clothes every week.  Nice?  Or necessary?  It's not a resolution...it's a decision to be different.

One could argue that resolutions ARE life choices or decisions to be different.  I say we need a different term.  Everyone mocks resolutions even as we make them ourselves.  "Oh, let's see how long THIS one sticks...hahahahaaha!"  But if you're serious about making changes...you'll change your mind and then you'll change your life.

Been there.  Done that.  Still making changes.  I wonder if I'll be PERFECT by the end??  Like Mary Poppins I'll be "Perfectly perfect in every way."   If that's the case, I hope I get that cool carpetbag that holds everything.  TOTALLY.  NECESSARY.

Happy New Year! What changes will you make this year?

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5 Things To Do When You Can't Get Back to Sleep

"I love sleep. My life has the tendency to fall apart when I'm awake, you know?”
― Ernest Hemingway

I woke up this morning at 2:21 a.m. after dreaming that a man knocked on the back door of my house.  Even though I couldn't really see his face, I figured I should open the door because he must NEED something if he came to the back door instead of the front like a normal person.  And so, like the chick in horror movies who makes stupid decisions that will get her killed, I opened my back door.  In the dream, the man rushed in and asked me for a piece of paper.  I was confused and backed away.  He was obviously a close talker and came rushing at me through the living room.  I whimpered because he seemed kind of odd and threatening (I don't know where I GOT that because he did come in through my back door in the middle of the night).  Anyway, within 30 seconds of entering my house, he had put his hand over my mouth and told me not to scream.

That's when I woke up.

I immediately determined that I had been dreaming (sometimes I'm not sure if I'm experiencing real life or dreaming...my life is JUST THAT WACKY) and tried to snuggle back into my covers.  That's when my brilliant mind took over.

I'm hot.  I wonder where the thermostat is set.  Heat rises in the winter.  Blurred lines.  You know you want it.  I wonder if that's where the dream came from?  Gosh, I'm glad the Dream Man didn't say that because then it would be obvious, wouldn't it?  So, if someone broke in, would I be able to yell to the boys to call 911?  I wonder if they would lock their doors.  How strong are their doors anyway.  If the Bad Man knew that the kids were locked up in their rooms, would he try to break the door down?  If he was distracted trying to get to THEM, I could push him down the stairs.  Maybe he'd break his neck.  Do people break their necks falling down the stairs?  I wonder what the statistical probability of that is?....

You see where that went.  And so, here I am. Once again.  In the middle of the night.  Wide awake. I decided to figure out a few solutions for myself. 

1.  Drink milk.  Did you know that milk contains tryptophan?  Yep, it's that same stuff that makes Uncle Joe snooze off in the recliner after a big turkey dinner on Thanksgiving.  Granted, it has tryptophan in very, very small amounts, but it still has it.  And if you think something works, honestly, it is more likely to work.  Personally, the idea of warm milk makes me want to hurl but...whatever floats your boat. I like my milk with a little chocolate syrup for delicious goodness.
2. Do NOT lay in bed for hours.  There is nothing more frustrating than tossing and turning in bed.  You have to train your mind to SLEEP when you're in bed.  If you're not sleeping, you're training your mind that bed is just a place to be frustrated.  (And I'm not touching THAT last sentence with a ten-foot pole.)
3. Do something mundane.  You probably shouldn't do as I do and blog.  That just gets me fired up.  There is a little something to be said for counting sheep.  It's boring.  Sheep are boring.  Counting is boring.  My challenge with that was always "OOH! Let's see how high I can count!"
4. Make a list.  A lot of times we can't sleep because our minds are so engaged with reality that dreaming ends up getting shoved aside.  Write down all the things that are bugging you...and let them go.
5. Call a fellow insomniac.  Because if you can't beat 'em...join 'em.  

At some point, I'll probably follow my doctor's advice and ingest less caffeine which will, in turn, probably help me stay asleep at night.  But becoming a decaf coffee drinker is going to have to wait....I'm brewing a pot right now.

Good night, Gracie.

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Dear Better Homes and Gardens

“Home is the nicest word there is.”
― Laura Ingalls Wilder

Dear Better Homes and Gardens,

First of all, I have to tell you how much I love your publication.  Every month, for years, I've opened my mailbox to find you there.  In the summer, your covers are splashed with fun colors and airy spaces and in the winter you never fail me with pictures of inviting spaces in warm hues. 

I look GOOD this morning.  G-O-O-D.

I opened up the November issue this morning with my breakfast.  I always read you cover to cover (You like hearing that, don't you?  I even read the ADS, BH&G.  Even the ads.  I'll bet your advertisers are thrilled to hear it.).  This morning, I was immediately disheartened by the "Age Perfect" ad on the inside cover.  You know your readers, don't you, you sly dog?  You know that our wrinkles are showing up and maybe you even know that some of us read you while we eat our breakfast.  Morning time is an especially vulnerable time for me, you see.  Mornings are when my face looks like a very heavy truck has parked on it overnight.  So, thanks for reminding me that maybe I need a product to iron out the rough spots.  You are a trusted friend, after all.

The next thing I read was the Editor in Chief's introduction.  It's called "Between Friends" and I really like to think of your editor (Gayle...Gayle, can I just CALL you Gayle?  Is that OK?) as a friend.  She's always so upbeat and positive.  And she's always letting me know how wonderful and easy all the ideas contained in your pages are to implement.  I wonder if SHE implements them all.  Do you, Gayle?  Do you run home to check YOUR mailbox just waiting to see what you can change about your house this season?  I'll bet you do, Gayle.  You're just THAT happy.  And capable.  Let's not forget capable.

I set my bowl of Cheerios aside as I pondered the ad on the next page:  Kellogg's to GO.  WTH?  Do you cram cereal in a bottle?  I have to admit I was impressed with the 10g of protein.  Cheerios ain't got NOTHIN' on you, right?  10g of protein.  In a convenient bottle.  I was intrigued.  Oh, yes.  You had me at hello.  But what does it TASTE like?  I just can't fathom the TASTE of Kellogg's in a bottle.

Next you told me about how I could win $10,000 for the holidays.  TEN THOUSAND DOLLARS.  I don't know what you INTENDED me to use it for, BH&G, but I was thinkin' that I could TOTALLY paint my house and maybe buy two new windows for $10,000.   I'm in.  Where do I enter?  Pffft.  THAT looks like a lot of work.  The ten grand would've been nice, though.  

I then found what I always expect in your November issue: the Thanksgiving table setting.  YOUR readers don't just pull out the same ol' tired and chipped china they've had since before little Davie was in diapers.  No, no, no.  They don't use the same faded napkins and the bent tableware.  YOUR readers do clever things like "Say so-long to same old:  Sub fun wood rounds for ordinary place mats or chargers."  Because what I am worried about on Thanksgiving day are the chargers under my plates.  Let me think...do I OWN chargers?  No.  No, I don't.  I've always wanted to be the kind of girl who IS concerned about chargers, though.  Once again, BH&G, you're helping me to see ALL the ways I'm inadequate.  

I did see on that table setting a glass hurricane with a "sprinkling of pinecones, nuts, greenery or cranberries."  Now THAT'S something that I might can do.  I hear they sell glass hurricanes at the dollar store.  Or at the local bar.  If I head THAT way, I probably won't care about my table, BH&G.  You know what I'm sayin'?  

I stopped on the next page where you told me I could "cast a warm holiday glow" by replacing my tired old flatware with BRUSHED-GOLD FLATWARE for the holidays.  Because what I need in my life is TWO sets of flatware cluttering up my already cluttered drawers.  

I figured the next few pages would contain the latest trends in paint and easy ways to re-slipcover furniture.  Honestly, those things just make me tired.  I mean, don't get me wrong, BH&G...I DO love change.  I really do.  But then I start thinking about how I'll have to take everything down from the walls and move the furniture out of the way and clean up about half a dozen paint spills (because, let's be honest, I'm not the NEATEST home-improver on the market). And then I think about having to go to my local home improvement warehouse and PURCHASE all the stuff:  the paint, new roller covers, drop cloths, etc.  It all just makes me tired.  And broke.  Let's not forget broke.  (Speaking of which...where DO your readers come up with the cash for all these fabulous remodels?  I want to have THEIR careers.  Or their husbands.  Or, let's be honest, their husband's MONEY.)

I have a confession, BH&G.  I USE YOU.  I open your pages and I dream of a different life.  I see the smiling women in your magazine and know that THEY'RE smiling because their homes are uncluttered.  They make fabulous "design decisions" instead of just throwing together whatever they've found on sale at TJ Maxx.  I want to be one of those women.  I do.  But I'm JUST NOT MADE THAT WAY.  I balk at spending more than $20 for any one home item.  And crafty?  I have big aspirations but usually the stuff I put together looks like a "what not to do" ad from Elmer's Glue. But I WANT to be a REAL Better Homes & Gardens reader.  I want to be perfectly coiffed while sipping a cup of hot tea (so much healthier than my muddy coffee) in my "outdoor living space" with lovely rattan furniture and snazzy cushions I've sewn myself.  I WANT TO BE THAT GIRL.

So, BH&G, if you ever have a "home and life makeover" sweepstakes for your readers, pick me.  I've been a good girl.  

Sincerely,

An Avid Reader (Not Do-Er)

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The Dire Straits Did Not Lie on MTV: You CAN Get Your Money for Nothin'

"That ain't workin' that's the way you do it
Get your money for nothin' get your chicks for free..."

                        --Dire Straits, Money for Nothin'

Author's Note:  OK, it's the middle of the night.  I can't sleep.  I can't promise any of this will be coherent.

It's September.  Do you know what that means?  It means that CHRISTMAS is just around the corner.  Because we have completely and totally lost the meaning of Christmas (it's harsh..but it's true), we begin the STRESS of Christmas right about...now.  We start thinking about gift giving.  Actually, we start thinking about gift BUYING, don't we?  I'm not going to get into the whole commercialism nightmare that we've managed to turn Christmas into.  (Believe me, I have a LOT to say about that...as does everyone else on the blogosphere.  But, I'll spare you just this once.)

Here's the thing:  most of us buy gifts. If you're like ME, you HATE to go shopping.  I like the fun and festive atmosphere of shopping at Christmas but then I get depressed when I look around and see all these frowning, stressed out people.  And I don't deal well with crowds.  Or lines.  Or stupid people (did I say that out loud?).

So, every year, I shop from home.

LAST year, however, was different.  I discovered the magic of Ebates.  I am totally going to sound like an infomercial right now but I have to tell you this:  EBATES IS MAGIC.  You know why?  Because I go to Ebates, I find the store that I'm already buying from anyway and I click on their link and then THEY tell me how much I'm going to get IN CASH just from buying the stuff I was already going to buy anyway.

Huh?  

OK.  Let me give you an example.  I bought Thing 2 a backpack for school this year.  Well, I ALWAYS buy backpacks from Lands' End.  They're sturdy.  I've never had one wear out...they just get outgrown.  Instead of going straight to Lands' End, I did this:

• I went to Ebates.  
• I searched for Lands' End on the Ebates site.  
• A linked popped up that showed me a coupon code to use for Ebates AND a 3% cash back incentive.
• I clicked on the link.
• I went to Lands' End and ordered the backpack, just like I always do.
• I later got an email telling me how much money I earned from Ebates.  For that transaction, I think it was something like $2.00.

Just this year, I've earned $171 from Ebates just buying things I was already going to buy anyway.  Now, $171 might not seem like a lot in a year but a) it's basically "free" money and b) that was in addition to the coupons I used from Ebates that saved cash anyway.  They send you a check once a quarter.  It's fabulous.

AND, here's the fun part:  If you start now, you can do all your Christmas shopping using Ebates and you can get CASH after Christmas.  They send you a CHECK just for shopping.  WHAT?

If you refer friends, they give you money for THAT, too.

It's ridiculous.  And it sounds too good to be true.  But it isn't.  It's cash money.  For doing NOTHING but clicking on a link.  

OK, so your assignment is to get started right away.  Click on my link to sign up (because I totally get money if YOU sign up and actually use Ebates).  And then share YOUR link with YOUR friends and YOU'LL get money when THEY sign up.  I'm telling you...this is easy.  Seriously.  Do it.  You will not regret it.  (And, quite honestly, even if you don't use my link to sign up, I hope you will sign up anyway.  It's just a smart thing to do, right?  Just go to www.ebates.com.  Remember that!) 

MTV did not lie....get your money for nothin' and your chicks for free...(OK, fine.  I am NOT telling you that chicks are free. We're actually very, very expensive.)

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She Let Go

If you've been reading this blog for any length of time, you've probably figured out that I'm a HUGE fan of quotations.  Sometimes other people say so succinctly what's in our hearts.  I read this poem last night and it absolutely took my breath away.   I've never read it before but couldn't help but share it...I hope that you will enjoy it as much as I have.  It has been attributed to several authors, including Rev. Safire Rose, Ernest Holmes and Jennifer Eckert Bernau.

She Let Go

She let go. Without a thought or a word, she let go.
She let go of fear. She let go of the judgments. 
She let go of the confluence of opinions swarming around her head.
She let go of the committee of indecision within her.
She let go of all the ‘right’ reasons. Wholly and completely, 
without hesitation or worry, she just let go.
She didn’t ask anyone for advice. She didn’t read a 
book on how to let go… She didn’t search the scriptures.
She just let go.
She let go of all of the memories that held her back. 
She let go of all of the anxiety that kept her from moving forward. 
She let go of the planning and all of the calculations about how to do it just right.
She didn’t promise to let go. 
She didn’t journal about it. 
She didn’t write the projected date in her day-timer.
She made no public announcement and put no ad in the paper. 
She didn’t check the weather report or read her daily horoscope. 
She just let go.
She didn’t analyse whether she should let go. 
She didn’t call her friends to discuss the matter. 
She didn’t do a five-step Spiritual Mind Treatment. 
She didn’t call the prayer line. 
She didn’t utter one word. She just let go.
No one was around when it happened. 
There was no applause or congratulations. 
No one thanked her or praised her. 
No one noticed a thing. 
Like a leaf falling from a tree, she just let go.
There was no effort. There was no struggle. 
It wasn’t good and it wasn’t bad. 
It was what it was, and it is just that.
In the space of letting go, she let it all be. 
A small smile came over her face. 
A light breeze blew through her.
And the sun and the moon shone forevermore.


 

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How I Learned to Live Frugally Under Protest

“I think the key indicator for wealth is not good grades, work ethic, or IQ. I believe it's relationships. Ask yourself two questions: How many people do I know, and how much ransom money could I get for each one?”

― Jarod Kintz

Money is a tool.  It's an AWESOME tool and I wish I had gobs and gobs of it.  If I did, though, I'd probably give it all away anyway and then I would have to start again from scratch.  It's probably best that I just deal with what I have.

As a single parent, I have to be cautious and careful with my cash flow.  This is in stark contrast to my natural personality.  I am something of a free spirit and, for a while, after my divorce, I continued to live in my free spirit style and found myself with some nasty ol' debt.  I got serious then and changed my spendthrift ways.  I got rid of my debt and started living COMPLETELY within my means.  There is nothing that makes you feel MORE POOR than living within your means, let me tell you.  I don't spend more than I have...ever.  I'm thinking about buying a car...and part of me is thinking about saving all the money to buy it and paying cash.  (That is gonna take a while...but it's on my mind as a goal right now.  Of course, my current car MAY fall apart before I get there...but...)

I've cut my household expenses significantly over the last couple of years and, quite honestly, am still very happy.  I'm just spending less money and living JUST AS HAPPILY.  WHO KNEW??

Here are some things I've done to begin living frugally:

1. I cut the cable cord.  I was spending close to $200 per month for cable, tv and phone.  I decided it was ridiculous to spend that kind of money for something I don't even really like all that much, so I found a deal with another company and currently spend $63 per month for internet and phone.  I spend another $16 for Netflix and HuluPlus so we have MOST of the shows we always watched without the expense.  AND, most of what we watch is in HD...I didn't have HD cable.  I don't miss cable and I REALLY don't miss the cable bill.
2. I started clipping coupons.  I use coupons all the time.  I use them for lunches/dinners out.  I use them when I do online shopping.  It's pretty easy to search for "LandsEnd promo code" before you check out.  Often I end up saving anywhere from 10-25% online JUST by searching for a promo code before I check out.  In the grocery store, I take advantage of stores that offer double coupons.  Locally, Harris Teeter doubles everything up to $0.99.  Every now and then, they offer super double coupons which means they double everything up to $2.00.  Yesterday, I bought deodorant priced at $4.99 for $0.99.  I cut 71% off my grocery bill on that shopping trip by buying things on sale that I had big coupons for.  A friend of mine buys 5 or more Sunday papers every week JUST for the coupons.  She saves RIDICULOUS amounts at the grocery store.
3. I shop for reduced price meats.  Grocery stores slash meat prices significantly if they're getting close to the expiration date.  In the early evening, my local Harris Teeter starts marking prices down.  I buy meats often at 50% or more off, take them home and freeze them for later use.  
4. I shop at discount stores.  ALDI is my favorite grocery store for low prices.  I can get a three-pack of red and yellow peppers for around $2.00.  They are $2.50 each when they're on SALE at the grocery store.  I'm easing into the ALDI brands.  You can buy your "traditional" brands there on occasion but most everything is the ALDI brand.  And it's GOOD.  I usually end up spending25-50% less at ALDI than shopping even at WalMart.  
5. I buy store brands.  Frosted Mini Wheats are almost $4.00 per box.  Sometimes you can get a coupon or get them for 2 for $4.  But if you need mini wheats and they're not on sale, you can buy the store brand for about half the cost.  AND, usually the store brands are made by the same company but you're not saddled with paying for the marketing costs.  Sometimes I get stuck on a name brand, like Bounty paper towels or Tide, so I buy them when they're on sale with a coupon.  
6. I shop at consignment sales or at gently used clothing stores.  My kids need clothes all the time.  I often find their clothes at a local consignment store or I use coupons and sales at places like Old Navy, Gap and (now) Aeropostale.  I go to Goodwill and see what's on the racks. I rarely spend more than $10 for a piece of clothing for the kids.  I hate shopping for myself but when I do, I often use TJ Maxx, Marshall's or Ross where I can find brands I like at about half the cost...or more.
7. We go to $1.50 movies or to the drive-in.  I used to spend $40 or more almost every weekend taking the kids to movies.  We LOVE movies at my house.  Now, it's a treat to go to the "regular" movie theater and we only do it when there is something new out that we HAVE to see.  Now, we can wait a little while and see movies at the $1.50 theater.  Including popcorn and drinks, I spend about $20.  That's 50% less than I used to spend.  OR, in the summer we go to the drive-in.  I bring pizza and drinks in and we only pay $6 for Thing 1 and I and $3 for Thing 2.  For TWO movies.  And it's super fun.  
8. We use Redbox.  Redbox texts coupons to my phone or I Google promo codes when I rent from Redbox online.  So I usually get our family movies for less than $1 or sometimes free.  
9. When traveling, I often use Hotwire.  Whenever we travel, I check hotel prices on Hotwire.  Sometimes I have gotten 4 star hotels for less than $60 per night.  The only snafu is that you can't see the hotel name or the exact location until after you've bought it.  You can only see the star rating.  I'm pretty flexible and I view it as a surprise...but a lot of people can't handle not knowing the brand name.  The up side is that my kids get to travel in style and I don't have to shell out $200 per night.

I've cut costs.  But I haven't cut the fun.  Because it's all about fun, right?  I could still live even MORE frugally than I do if I put more time and energy into it.  I approach the whole thing as a fun kind of puzzle:  How can I do this and STILL save money? 

How do YOU save money for your family?  Or are you a spendthrift and proud of it?  :)

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A Girl's Guide to Buying a Car

“Sneaky would be a lime-green Volkswagen. Nobody would suspect the assassins in the lime-green Volkswagen.”
                                                                                                ― Adam Rex

It's time for me to get kinda serious about buying a car.  Well, I need to at least start thinking about getting kinda serious about buying a car.  Don't get me wrong.  I L-U-V my current vehicle.  You wouldn't necessarily be able to tell how much I love it by its condition.  It's pretty filthy. But I do love it.  It's zippy.  And I get this really STEADY feeling steering it.  And I pretty much beat most cars off the line.  Well, in my mind I'm beating them.  I don't think they actually know we're racing.

But, here's the thing:  the maintenance costs on a BMW are RIDICULOUS.  And, at this point, I'm going to need to invest some serious jack to keep it going smoothly at 287,000 miles.  I'm looking at replacing the fuel pump, the clutch, and, heck, probably the ENGINE fairly soon. And the cigarette lighter (which I need for charging the plethora of electronic devices we own) keeps shorting out so it's virtually unusable. All I see are dollar signs.  On the FLIP side, it was paid off long ago.  I don't have a monthly car payment.  And THAT is a beautiful thing.

But, I've got to start thinking about it.  I now have new car fever.  I've never, EVER owned a new car but I'm starting to think it might make sense to buy one.  Not a new BMW...I'm a freakin' single mom now, I can't afford THAT.  I also need a car that's big enough to fit two growing boys, one really big dog and a little dog and ALL our camping equipment for a weekend.  I'd like something rugged enough to strap a canoe to the top but classy enough that I don't feel like a big ol' redneck behind the wheel.  So many criteria, so little time.

What I really need is to focus on the top ten things a woman like me needs in a car:

1. Chick-cute.  I like FUN things in a car.  I love the VW Beetle touch with the little flower vase.  I like neat accessories like a USB port to plug in my phone while I drive.  Fashion colors are a must...a RED car would be perfect (bright red, not burgundy).  I want a CUTE car.  Preferably one that cleans itself.
2. Man-tough.  I also want a rugged car that fits my adventurous personality.  I like to do guy things.  I like camping and backpacking and canoeing and whitewater rafting. It needs to be able to hold ALL my gear AND the fun people/animals I drag along.
3. Gas to spare.  I put a LOT of miles on cars.  I am always on the go hither and yon.  I need something that's fuel efficient.  And, if Thing 1 has his way, I would prefer something environmentally friendly.
4. Low maintenance costs.  WHO KNEW this should be a factor in car buying?  I need a car that doesn't require the selling of a kidney to fix.  Actually, I would like a car that never needs to be fixed.  Which brings me to...
5. Dependable.  I'd like something that gets me from Point A to Point B.  I drive at all hours in all conditions.  Thumbing my way home beside a steaming, sputtering heap of junk is not my idea of a fun Saturday night.
6. Intuitive.  Lights that tell me my tire pressure is low or that my brakes are getting worn or that my door is ajar are almost a requirement.  I am not an exceptionally observant person (usually my head is firmly planted in the clouds) so it would be nice if my car does a little "thinking" for me.
7. Inexpensive.  OK, that's relative, I realize.  I don't want to forego travel and...food...for the next five years while I pay off some extravagant hunk of metal and plastic.  I want my next car to be affordable...on all levels.
8. Fun to drive. I don't mind a stick shift.  I like something with firm steering and a little get-up-and-go.  
9. Personality.  I don't want boring.  I don't want "I'm a sedan" and I REALLY don't want something that screams "I'm a mom" (no offense intended, minivan drivers).  I just want something with a little panache. I want something I can give a name to.
10. Staying power.  I'd like something I can drive for more than five years without wanting to shoot myself every time I get in the car.  I've had my current car for years and I still love getting behind the wheel.  

 I know what you're probably thinking: Is that ALL you want, you little diva?  Oh, satisfying THAT list won't be tough...

I know it's a lot to ask. And I realize that I'm going to have to sacrifice one or two or five things. And I also know that it probably WON'T be a new car (because I just can't get past the fact that new cars are STUPID EXPENSIVE).  But I'm excited about the process.  This will be the very first time I've ever bought a car without a man's help.  It's all me.  I know it means there will be no one to BLAME if something goes wrong...but it's also kinda cool to think that I can do this research, come up with a plan and buy this car on my own.  I'm feelin' all like an independent woman with REAL grown-up lady panties.

Drive on.

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Shut Up, Move On: It's a Book AND a Lifestyle

“You can spend minutes, hours, days, weeks, or even months over-analyzing a situation; trying to put the pieces together, justifying what could've, would've happened... or you can just leave the pieces on the floor and move the f**k on.”
― Tupac Shakur

When my plans were rearranged this afternoon, I opted to spend it in the company of 40 million strangers at Barnes & Noble, my own personal version of nirvana.  And there, amid the bustle of strangers in the cafe and the smell of freshly published books, I found my own new personal motto:  S.U.M.O. (Shut Up, Move On): The Straight Talking Guide to Creating and Enjoying a Brilliant Life.  If you haven't read it, the theory is all conveniently packaged in a book by my new guru, Paul McGee.   I spent two hours absorbing this book, even taking FOUR pages of single-spaced typewritten notes.  And, yes, I bought it.  If you haven't done so, you should right now.  I'll wait.

There are many wonderful lessons McGee teaches in the book, but one of my favorites is his recommendation to Change Your T-shirt.  He asks us to imagine that what you feel or believe about yourself is written on your t-shirt.  Many people wear Victim t-shirts with awesome phrases like:

• I am stupid.
• I am worthless.
• No one cares about me.
• It's just my luck...

 It's really true, isn't it?  People can tell how you feel about yourself within an instant of meeting you.  So I decided to begin creating changed by imagining my new t-shirts.  Here's what I came up with:

• I rock in the shower!
• Clumsy and proud!  (Wait...that's not a positive message...)
• My boobs are bigger than yours!
• I shower daily!

I decided after the first few that my sarcasm was getting the best of me, so I tried again...sincerely this time.

• I analyze everything!
• Life doesn't suck...much!
• Drinking makes me happy!
• I try not to be mean!

Once again, my t-shirts were decidedly NOT the positive-thinking bestsellers I'd been hoping for.  I dug REALLY, REALLY deep....

• Crying keeps me from killing!
• When life hands you lemons, squeeze them REALLY HARD!
• Smile...even if your butt is on fire!
• Hysteria is just another love language!

 Well, fortunately I bought the book.  I think I'll have to go through the steps a few more times before I can summon up the courage to Shut Up and Move On in several areas of my life.  In reality, that's my plan.

Rascal Flatts said it best, I'm pretty sure.

P.S.  I SERIOUSLY made a t-shirt.  You can totally buy it.

http://www.zazzle.com/strong_women_tees-235653100669192655

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Can You Live Safely Without Fear?

“There are two kinds of fears: rational and irrational- or in simpler terms, fears that make sense and fears that don't.”
                                                       ― Lemony Snicket

Note:  There may be some triggers in this post.  If you have triggers, please don't read this.  If you don't know what a trigger IS, you're probably safe to read it!

I am not a fearful person.  I have a tendency to leave doors unlocked, windows opened and curtains...well, who needs 'em?  I am all too aware that the dangers we, as women, face are often not from strangers but from the men who are a part of our lives.

• According to the U.S. Office on Violence Against Women, one in four women have experienced severe physical violence at the hands of someone they know.
• The U.S. Department of Justice estimates that 4.8 MILLION physical assaults and rapes occur against women annually.
•  Women who were sexually victimized as adults are more likely to report a history of childhood sexual abuse, according to a research study sponsored by the U.S. Department of Justice.  

I could go on and on with statistics but, since I feel a little ill after doing some preliminary research, I'm just going to let it stand that women are more likely to be victimized by someone they know.

When I was in college, I went sunbathing on a hill just across the street from the campus.  It was a place where we sunbathed often but this time, I went alone and I went after just about everyone had left campus for the summer.  I relaxed in the early summer air and I minded my own business while reading a book.  At some point, a man came by.  He was friendly and smiley and he asked me directions to Cameron Village.  I pointed the way and explained how to get there on foot.  As I talked, he moved closer.  Thinking nothing of it, I continued my explanation until I realized he had actually pulled his penis out of his pants.  I stopped talking and he took over, telling me exactly what he intended to do.  I don't remember his exact words now, but I do remember my reaction.

Disgusting Man: And I'm gonna (vulgarity, vulgarity, expletive, expletive)....

Me (smiling and friendly with his personal business in my face):  No, thank you!

Disgusting Man: (Continuing his litany of vulgarity)

Me (still smiling but shaking my head, in a very friendly fashion):  No, thank you, really.  No thank you.

Disgusting Man: (Vulgarity, vulgarity)

Me (smiling broadly):  No, really.  No thank you.

I reached back for my shirt to find some cover for myself since I was (obviously) feeling increasingly uncomfortable.  The vulgar man grabbed it out of my hand and told me I wouldn't be needing it.  At that point, I crab-crawled backward as fast as I could, stumbled to my feet and ran as quickly as my bare feet could carry me across the street.  I was shaken and slightly nauseous but I did get away from him.  He was a coward and we were in a public place.  He didn't follow me but ran away in the other direction.

Other experiences have haunted me more than this one because they were at the hands of people I knew, but this is an example of how quickly and easily a woman is victimized.  I don't want to be afraid.  I don't want to feel like I have to walk in groups.  And I don't.  I go everywhere alone.  Sometimes I go at night.  Sometimes I go in the MIDDLE of the night.  I refuse to live in fear.  Most of my friends say I am not living fearlessly but stupidly.

I want to trust people.  I do.  A couple of incidents happened just this year, however, that lead me to believe that people simply (sadly) cannot be trusted.  I won't go into details of either incident but, suffice it to say that I felt violated by both.  My trust was misplaced and I was deeply saddened by one incident and frightened by the other.  Both have led me to believe that I need to make some changes in my behavior and the things I do to protect myself. 

What do you do to feel safer?

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Parenting Teen Boys

“Never lend your car to anyone to whom you have given birth.”
                                                          ― Erma Bombeck

I have been the parent of a teenager for less than 24 hours now.  I figured now is the PERFECT time to put in my two cents about parenting a teenager while I still know everything.
  
Top 10 Things You Must Do As the Parent of a Teen Boy

1. You must always tuck them in at night.  Pull the headphones away from their ears and shield
   
   their iPhone from view and look them in the eyes and tell them how much you adore them.  Boy children will HATE this but some of it may sink in.  
2. Tell them the truth about girls.  Let them know EARLY that girls are freakin' NUTS.  Tell them about how we hold grudges and get emotionally hysterical.  Tell them how we like to rescue losers and a-holes and leave the nice guys in the dust.  Give them the dirt NOW so they know to avoid them as long as possible.
3. Tell them to suck it up.  Sometimes, life hurts.  Sometimes terrible things happen.  And you've got to keep going.  You've got to pretend it doesn't hurt sometimes so you can get through your day.  When all is said and done you can have your breakdown in private with your therapist when you're 35.  But you're a tiny man now...suck it up.  
4. Keep them active.  Given their druthers, they would spend 24 hours a day in front of a screen.  ANY screen.  I have no idea why they love screens so much but their brains are connected to them wirelessly.  I think the boy mind CALLS out to technology.  I blame Bill Gates.  GET THEM AWAY from the screen.  Introduce them to nature.  Tell them about things like the SKY and WEATHER.  
5. Force them to converse.  The teenage boy vernacular is littered with grunts, inaudible hisses and voice-deepened shouts (usually in anger or surprise and almost always directed at a sibling).  Speak slowly while attempting to maintain eye contact.  This will be difficult because their heads are usually aimed at the floor.  Ask for reciprocation.  Example:  "Son, how was your day?"  "Grunt, grunt.  Hisss."  "Let's try again.  Please speak in clear sentences."  "Fine, Mom."  Hey, ANY progress is good.
6. Control shower time.  Some teenage boys prefer not to shower.  Some shower so excessively their skin is in danger of actually peeling off.  Install a shower timer.  15 minutes should be plenty of time to get clean, right?  And for those who don't WANT to shower, consider putting their beds in the tub.  In the morning, you have dual-purpose shower head:  alarm clock and cleanliness agent.
7. Hide food.  Any and all junk food will be eaten prior to any fruits or vegetables.  All junk food will be consumed in MASSIVE quantities.  If you have a stash of Oreos, keep them where the teen boy will NEVER find them:  in the laundry basket or perhaps under the lawn mower.
8. Ask them to repeat instructions.  Verbatim.  Offer instructions to them ONLY when all screens are off (see number 4) and limit instructions to only three line items (one is preferred because you're going to have to repeat 2 and 3 multiple times).  Have them repeat the instructions back to you three times.  They will STILL forget steps 2 and 3 but with this method, they usually manage to complete the first item.  (Note:  This method can also be used with husbands.)
9. Hoard chargers.  They will come to you when their chargers are missing.  Do NOT give them your chargers.  They are guaranteed to disappear and then you will be without your own screen time.  If they need something charged, take the item with you and secretly charge it near another place the teenage boy will never look: the dishwasher.
10. Love them unconditionally.  The teenage boy will drive you bananas with his eating, his bodily noises, his smells and his blank stares.  Love him anyway.  The teenage boy will use his body to destroy your home, your pets and you car.  Love him anyway.  The teenage boy will be unreasonably angry sometimes and he might slam a bedroom door.  Love him anyway.  He will test your limits, your sanity and your wallet.  Love him anyway.  

In reality, the teenager is still your little boy starting to stretch out into a man's body.  His heart is still tender and growing and his mind is still curious and strong.  You can still take care of him, albeit from a distance these days.  Stay strong, Teenage Boy Parents.  Remember that your role in life is to embarrass and to cause misery on the OUTSIDE while being secretly proud and wishy-wishy-lovey-dovey on the INSIDE.  

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Perspective is a huge component of happiness

“The world is a tragedy to those who feel, but a comedy to those who think.”
― Horace Walpole

Man, oh, man...happiness is something I've struggled with my whole life.  I blame it on the Disney princesses.  Everything in their world ALWAYS turned out rosy and that "happily ever after" BS is what lands me into hot water EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.

Me: "Isn't this supposed to be HAPPILY EVER AFTER?  Why am I so angry/sad/upset/ridiculously emotional?"

Life:  "Dude, did you REALLY buy into that whole GLASS SLIPPER thing?  Think about it for half a second.  A glass slipper would HURT.  It would CUT YOU.  There's absolutely NO GIVE in a glass slipper and it would shatter the instant it hit the ground.  Glass slippers simply aren't feasible."

Me: "But...what about the BIRDS WHO HELP ME DRESS?"

Life (slapping me hard in the face): "You're an IDIOT."

So, I've struggled with happiness all my life.  And it really isn't that I'm necessarily DEPRESSED.  It's just that I'm not overcome with JOY most of the time.  So, if I'm not skipping along singing show tunes I assume that I'm simply NOT HAPPY ENOUGH.  

Don't they look HAPPY? (Photo courtesy Fanpop.com)

I realize that this is crazy.  I really do.  And I know you think I'm exaggerating, but I'm not.  I truly believe that life should be THISCLOSE to a fantastic musical starring a beaming Julie Andrews (or, rather, ME).  But, with the help of some fine therapists and some more reality-based, grounded friends, I'm learning to accept that complete and utter Disney joy 24/7 really isn't exactly possible.  WHO KNEW?

I've gotten to a place in my life over the last six months where (most of the time with a few notable exceptions) I am fairly even-keeled.  I feel content and at peace most of the time.  I'm learning that THIS feeling is more akin to real happiness.  It's pretty wonderful.  And I've had EVERYTHING I needed to feel this way all along.  But, instead of being irritated with myself and my own slow learning curve, I'm learning to recognize and embrace the things that lend to my happiness on a daily basis.

Just yesterday, these wonderful happiness-lending experiences happened to me:

• I laughed one of those really super hard laughs while talking to a friend.  I mean the kind of laugh where your sides ache and tears spring from your eyes.  For a long time.  And that phone call came at exactly the right moment. 
• My youngest son told me that I was a blend of 1/2 crappy and 1/2 perfect as a mother.  I thought this was absolutely wonderful because it's pretty much spot-on.
• I watched my eldest son laughing ('cause I'm a creeper that way).
• I woke up snuggled next to Sparky.
• I got to play with bubbles, watch ants crawl, listen to bells ringing and dogs barking, and watch the wind blow through tall grass with a two-year-old.  THAT was pure magic.
• As I drove home late last night, the air was warm and my windows were rolled down and my music was turned up.  I smiled and sang the whole way home.

I still have a ways to go to become a truly even-tempered person.  But I work on it continually.  And eventually, I'll find true consistency over time.  Like most of us, I'm always learning, always growing and always receptive to change.

“Life's under no obligation to give us what we expect.”
                                    ― Margaret Mitchell

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An exercise in self-appreciation

“You can be the most beautiful person in the world and everybody sees light and rainbows when they look at you, but if you yourself don't know it, all of that doesn't even matter. Every second that you spend on doubting your worth, every moment that you use to criticize yourself; is a second of your life wasted, is a moment of your life thrown away. It's not like you have forever, so don't waste any of your seconds, don't throw even one of your moments away.”
― C. JoyBell C.

A few months ago, I did a whole study in self-esteem with the guidance of a therapist.  Each week, I had exercises to work through, some of which were very uncomfortable.  Through this experience, I am better equipped to deal with those loud, nagging voices in my head telling me that I'm not good enough, not smart enough, not thin enough, not pretty enough....not ENOUGH in general.

But as time passes and I get further away from the intense exercises and away from the gentle, affirming voice of my therapist,  I find myself slipping back into some patterns.  I look in the mirror and my eyes IMMEDIATELY train down to the tummy which is not as flat as I'd like, the too-large boobs and the increasing network of lines across my face.  I have to FORCE myself to smile and say (out loud):  "You are beautiful JUST the way you are."

The truth is we are ALL beautiful.  We are all perfectly designed and unique in our own ways.  I think of some of my friends and the FIRST things I think about when I recall each one to my memory is the thing that makes them most beautiful.  For one friend, it's her eyes...they IMMEDIATELY come to mind when I think about her in any context.  For another, it's her gorgeous hair.  Still another is her wide, bright smile.  For yet another,  I think about the dimples in her cheeks.  If you asked each of these women how satisfied she is with her appearance, she would probably begin by listing her faults.  I think each of these women is beautiful...because of appearance, yes, but also because their personalities come through their outward appearance and they GLOW with fire and real beauty.  They, sadly, would most likely disagree.

That SUCKS.

We need to RISE up and realize a few things about life, beauty and how to be truly happy.

1. You are NOT as FAT as you imagine.  (That's a line DIRECTLY from Baz Luhrmann's Everybody's Free to Wear Sunscreen.  If you haven't heard it in a while, I suggest you follow that link now.  Seriously.  I'll wait.).  Here's the thing:  our bodies are largely due to genetics.  I've seen REALLY SKINNY people eating CRAP and a lot of it.  And they stay skinny.  But that doesn't mean they're HEALTHY.  I won't lie:  I am often MISERABLE when I see a picture of myself.  I've thickened over the past ten years.  I still haven't done much about it other than to focus more on enjoying healthier foods.  I yo-yo diet and exercise like a fiend for a month and lose 15 pounds...and then gain it all back after a chocolate-fueled feeding frenzy.  It sucks.  And it makes me feel like I suck.  But...here's the real truth:  I am NOT as FAT as I imagine. 
2. We are not defined by our skin.  This means everything.  Not the color of it.  Not the wrinkles in it.  Not the amount of it.  We are defined by who we ARE.  We are defined by the number of times we sit down with Crayolas (I still own my VERY OWN BOX).  We are measured by the generosity of our spirits.  We are loved because of the truth in our hearts and the kindness in our voices.  Our skin has nothing to do with who we are and we are not loved because of it.
3. Only YOU are uniquely YOU.  There is no one else in this world exactly like you.  Even if you have an identical twin, you have separate thoughts and feelings.  In addition to all the other amazing things about you, you have one gift that no one else has:  the gift of you.  Any time you spend time with another person, you are sharing that gift.  YOU are precious and special and never, ever diminished.  

Women spend their time comparing themselves to everyone else.  Admit it.  You can't HELP but sneak a glance over at the People magazine during the checkout line and notice that Jennifer Aniston's clavicles are so CLEARLY visible. Or in a crowd of women, there is a cacophony of voices in your head:

She's thinner than I am.  
Oh, her red hair is so pretty and mine is so DULL.
How is her butt so FIRM?  Mine sags down to the back of my knees.
I should have worn more/less make-up.
My hair is frizzy. 
My ankles are fat.
My skin is too pale.
And on and on and on...   

I intend to rise up in protest against those voices.  I'm not perfect in any way.  I can give you a laundry list of everything that is wrong with me...inside AND out.  But I've had enough of those voices telling me that I'm not good enough.  I'm not smart enough.  I'm not pretty enough or thin enough or....enough.  

I AM enough.  And you are, too.  We are MORE than enough.  Now we need to live it.

This post was inspired by the Real Beauty Sketches.  If you haven't seen THOSE, you should take a few minutes to watch.  And then to believe that you are beautiful.  

Eat Rainbows and Poop Butterflies!

“In my world, everyone's a pony and they all eat rainbows and poop butterflies!”
                                                                                 ― Dr. Seuss

The other day, I was driving Thing 1 to his early morning jazz band practice and I began singing a perfectly made-up song about him and his cello.  It was a meandering sort of tune that included all kinds of things about my son and his cello and how he takes his cello everywhere.  The lyrics focused on the strings of the cello and how my son would make them come alive and continued on about how the cello was an integral part of his existence.  My almost-13-year-old son was in his seat practically crying through his belly laughs.

He doesn't own a cello.

After that, I went on a tirade about the proper pronunciation of words.  We ran through some of my favorites:  picture vs. pitcher; li-berry vs. library; and even the February vs. Feb-u-ary debate where Thing 1 argued that EVERYONE says Feb-u-ary.  "NOT APPROPRIATE!" I roared.  "If they didn't WANT a letter "r" in the word, well, then they would have simply LEFT IT OUT!  USE THE "R!""

He laughed with his ever deepening, coming-of-age voice and for a moment I marveled at the fact that my kids have an otherworldly experience when it comes to mothers.  I mean, don't get me wrong, I DO all the right stuff:  I bake the brownies; I attend parent/teacher conferences (when I remember them); I help with homework; and I sit in the car-pool line at morning drop-offs.  But they also have a mother who makes up crazy songs and has been known to say (in mixed company), "Son, I will CUT YOU."  One of my kids' friends heard me say that once and looked in wide-eyed horror at my youngest son.  "Did YOUR MOM just say she was going to CUT YOU?"

He responded nonchalantly.  "Oh, yeah.  She says that all the time.  Maybe she will one day.  But probably not."

I figured after that exchange perhaps I should curb my  threats of cutting.  They're never going to come to fruition anyway.  It's just my way of easing R-rated talk into their PG-lives.

My kids are more well-behaved than any parent has a right to reasonably expect.  I think it's because they figure that I'm just one step shy of crazy and could easily lose my stuff at any moment so they'd best not push me too far.  They tolerate an awful lot of weird behavior from me.  When they shared a room when they were little, I woke them up in a few of different ways:

•  I would burst into their room with my hairbrush as a microphone singing Barry Manilow's Daybreak at the top of my lungs complete with vigorous back-up singer hand motions (you only WISH you had a video of that).   
• They had these stuffed dinosaurs that had different personalities and voices (as ALL stuffed animals do...duh).  On the dinosaur mornings, they would threaten to eat whichever sleeping child wouldn't get up.  "OH, num, num, I think this EAR would taste good!"  And then the dinosaurs would have this weird conversation that I could never remember (because they wanted me to repeat it verbatim the next morning..."Mommy, mommy!  Do the part where the dinosaur talks about his friend Frank from the sewer!").
• Sometimes I would invent rap songs using the kids' names in them and talk about how fly the day was if only Thing 1 would arise.  I got myself into trouble with the rap because a) I have zero rhythm and b) I would be all out of breath before the end of the first few lines because of the creative "hip-hop" moves I invented to go along with the raps.

Most kids probably get a gentle "good morning."  No wonder Thing 1 was in a bad mood for the first 10 years of his life until I FINALLY realized he wasn't a morning person.  Thing 2 could probably still take all of the above and counter them with moves of his own.

At dinner time, I often have them play word games with me (my little dudes have A-MAZING vocabularies that would easily rival most adults I know).  If I didn't incorporate the games, all they would do is talk about bodily functions because dinner is OBVIOUSLY the best time for THAT. They have no real desire to tell me about their days.  I usually get that in snippets when we're riding somewhere in the car.  Boy children keep their days to THEMSELVES, apparently.  I've met girl children who will go into every. single. instant. of their days.  My boys?  Nothin' doin'.

I sing at inappropriate times.  I dress up for Halloween.  I get FAR too excited about holidays.  And my then-preschooler asked me (well before I turned away from the rap I thought they weren't listening to and back to the more age-appropriate Raffi and Laurie Berkner), "What's a 'lady in the street but a freak in the bed' mean?" (My response was "it's a lady who has a lot of very ACTIVE dreams...PLEASE do not repeat those lyrics to ANYONE else!")

So far, my boys tolerate me quite well.  I don't know HOW MUCH therapy they'll have to have eventually because of me but I'm assuming it will be significant.  All I care about is that they continue to laugh at my antics well into old age. 

I'm sure I'll have some new tricks by then.  And I wonder if, by blogging all of our family "secrets" NOW, will that cut down on the tell-all books from each of them in the future?  It's certainly something to consider.

"Son, the time I accidentally left you in the Target parking lot is SO NOT NEWS.  I told everyone about THAT ON FACEBOOK years ago.  Suck it up."



If you like my blog, share it.  Or Like my FB page to get updates.  Or subscribe to the e-mail list.  Or make a comment below.  If you don't like it, well...just try not to hurt my feelings.  I'm sensitive. 

You CAN Unstick Yourself

“We are taught you must blame your father, your sisters, your brothers, the school, the teachers - but never blame yourself. It's never your fault. But it's always your fault, because if you wanted to change you're the one who has got to change.”
                                                                     ― Katharine Hepburn

It's fair to say that I've had some issues in my life.  I'm sure at some point I'll blather on about all those issues and what the root causes were but what I'm most focused on NOW is moving past the reasons, the excuses, the insecurities, the drama and the insanity.

I am in the midst of metamorphosis.

There's a magic formula you need in order to go through a metamorphosis.  It's a very simple concept yet so elusive because we humans naturally want to point away from ourselves and BLAME someone for why our car won't start ("YOU forgot to buy the new battery!") or why we are still underpaid ("They don't APPRECIATE me!") or why our children misbehave ("They don't listen!") or why we're so angry and tired all the time ("No one helps me!").  Ready?

The answer solely lies with you.  YOU are the only one who can decide how you're going to feel about anything.  The bottom line:  No matter what, YOU are responsible for your choices and your life.  You can choose anger or you can choose laughter.  You can choose drama or you can choose peace.  YOU decide your own internal climate and your own external behavior.  If you're stuck in something, only YOU can decide to unstick yourself.

Let's take the above examples:

1.  The car won't start because someone else forgot to buy the new battery.  OK.  The car won't start.  It doesn't even matter who forgot what, does it? The problem is the car won't start.  You can choose to be nuts about it. Or you can choose to stop bitching and moaning and just go buy a damn battery.  
2. We are underpaid because our employer doesn't appreciate us.  You're underpaid? Ask for a raise.  They won't give you one? Find a new job.  Jobs are scarce?  Figure out another way to make money. Learn to paint houses, cut hair, do crafts.  I don't care what it is you do.  Stop complaining about it and do something about it. The answer lies with you. 
3. Our children misbehave because they don't listen.  Whose fault is that?  Do your children have consequences?  If they have consequences and they still don't listen, maybe the consequences aren't consistent.  I don't know what your particular answer is...but I do know that often the answer lies within us.  If you've tried everything and your kids don't listen...well, maybe they're miscreants; their OWN answer lies within them.  :)
4.  We're angry and tired all the time because no one helps.  Have you asked for help?  If so, do you criticize your helpers so they disappear when help is needed again?  Are your demands simply too high?  Look at yourself first and maybe you'll find another, far deeper, answer for your anger and weariness.

Stop looking around and believing that if EVERYONE ELSE would just do A or B or C, then you can be happy.  I was stuck in that trap for a very long time...truly believing that I was not going to find any kind of happiness because Person X wouldn't do this and Person Y wouldn't do that.  But once I realized that it was ME causing my OWN unhappiness...it was a pretty quick switch.  Don't get me wrong, I still get angry and I still get upset about things.  But it only takes a few minutes these days to get my emotions under control and back on track.  I realize I cannot control other people...I can only control myself.  And I really CAN control myself even when I'm feeling completely Out of Control.  I'm sure my Ex-Husband wishes I'd figured THAT out a long freakin' time ago.  And I'll bet On-Again is reluctant to go to sleep these days waiting for whiny, cranky, unhappy Kelly to come back out of the closet.

But Whiny Kelly has been banished.  She's been gone for quite a while now.  I took a four-month long journey into exploring my numerous insecurities and came out on the other side stronger, more confident and more joyful than I've ever been...ever.  I'm always going to be a work in progress and I could probably use a bright yellow strip of CAUTION tape as a sash...but I feel pretty good these days.  I'm happier and THAT is healthier for my kids.

And THAT, my friends, is a VERY un-stuck place to be.

If you like my blog, share it.  Or Like my FB page to get updates.  Or subscribe to the e-mail list.  Or make a comment below.  If you don't like it, well...just try not to hurt my feelings.  I'm sensitive.

 

   

Live Your Dream. Today.

“There is only one thing that makes a dream impossible to achieve: the fear of failure.”
― Paulo Coelho

There are two things that I dreamed of doing when I was a little girl.  I dreamed of being a singer and I dreamed of being a writer.  Now, neither talent has ever been developed.  After hearing REAL singers sing, I know that's not on my list of achievable dreams.  I'll stick to the shower and the occasional fling with karaoke.  But writing?  Damn if I'm not livin' the dream.

I realize I'm not a "real" writer.  I'm not selling books (or even, if I need to be honest here, WRITING a book).  I'm not getting paid to write, other than my marketing job where I write exciting things like "our chemists focus on optimizing routes, improving yields and process safety through the course of each project." But for YEARS I've been waiting for that perfect time to write.  Maybe I'll write for magazines. Maybe I'll start a blog.  Maybe I'll keep that journal.  Time and time again, I've stopped myself mid-sentence because of lack of time, lack of energy, lack of tenacity and lack of true motivation.  It wasn't rewarding because I wasn't sharing.  I was just...writing.

The time we live in is perfect for those of us "wanna be writers."  We can do THIS.  We can blog and people can read our words, flung from the tips of our fingers, from wherever they are.  It's affordable (just the cost of an internet connection and a viable communication device), convenient and, most of all, super fun!

People have always said to me, "You should write a book.." because of one reason or another.  They enjoy the stories of my madcap adventures and they appreciate my slightly off-kilter take on a lot of things.  But, whatever the reason, book-writing doesn't come easy.  It's HARD to sit down and put all these thoughts together and when you have adult ADD (OK, I haven't been diagnosed but let's be frank...I am highly distracted by shiny things, dull things and things that don't even exist outside my mind) it's nigh impossible.

But one day not so long ago, I cast fear aside and I put fingers to keyboard.  And here we are.  I'm SO EXCITED that I have 50 people following my FB link.  I can't figure out how many e-mail subscribers I have because I'm technologically deficient.   The thingy says "1 follower" but I KNOW I follow myself and I am pretty sure my mom does so that's at LEAST TWO.

Are all of these blog posts funny?  No. They're not all even very good writing.  But I have never felt so...unconfined.  The random verbal vomit that runs through my brain has a place to ooze to (lucky, lucky you) and I am so proud of myself for sticking with something for...so far...close to a MONTH.  I have been to the grocery store at LEAST three times since I started this blog...THAT'S how long it's been.  And I do this totally free form.  I don't really think about it and I usually write all posts in under 15 minutes so I don't have time to ruin it by second-guessing and editing myself out of a thought.  (Hence the rambling incoherent mutterings of a fool that are often the result.)

I'm living PROOF that dreams can come true.  Even if they're not QUITE the way you imagined.  Here's what you can do to get started:

1. Stop saying "I can't."  If you are the kind of person who makes friends snort peas out of their noses when you all get together for dinner, maybe you've been thinking of trying your hand at stand-up comedy.  But you always have this reason for NOT trying it.  "I can't get up in front of all those strangers."  "I can't be funny on demand."  "I can't deal with hecklers."  I'm here to tell you this:  if you try...if you go on out there and make it happen, you will understand that you are more powerful than fear.  Yes, you may flop.  But you didn't sit on your couch with the latest issue of People cramming your face with chocolate-covered pretzels and a bottle of cabernet either.  You are successful even in your failures if you stop saying "I can't" and get on out there and DO.  
2. Let go of your fear for ONE MOMENT.  If you can suspend your hesitation and all of your insecurities for just ONE MOMENT and live in your dream, you can make it possible.  When I hit the first "PUBLISH" on my blog and then promoted it on Facebook for the very first time, my heart rate was through the roof.  I was nervous.  But I told all of those niggling voices inside my head to BE QUIET and I did a free fall away from the fear for just a moment so that I could experience the intoxicating freedom of success.  Even if NO ONE read the blog, I had done what I set out to do in one moment without fear.
3. Understand that BIG dreams can start from SMALL steps.  Obviously, my end goal of writing for a living isn't going to happen today or tomorrow or probably even in the next couple of years.  But I can certainly make this a wonderful learning opportunity and bask in the glow of each small success.  When I write a blog post at least once a week, I feel successful.  And, quite honestly, right now the words just pour out of me.  That's how I know that the dream is real.  And even though I'm taking itsy bitsy baby steps right now, I am living in my BIG dream in a SMALL way.  It feels fantastic.

So, this is just the beginning.  I'm learning a lot about how to make this dream keep chugging along.  And maybe I won't EVER be a writer who earns an income from purely writing.  But for now, I'm enjoying every small success and savoring every word I plop down on the page.  And I'm still a little nervous every time I hit "PUBLISH" because I know that people are out there judging my words which means that they're judging ME.

I live the dream.  Right now.  It feels great.

If you like my blog, share it.  Or Like my FB page to get updates.  Or subscribe to the e-mail list.  Or make a comment below.  If you don't like it, well...just try not to hurt my feelings.  I'm sensitive.