I, like every woman, am a weird combination of personality traits. Not weird in a Cybil way, but more in a Meredith Brooks, "I'm a bitch, I'm a lover / I'm a child, I'm a mother / I'm a sinner, I'm a saint" kind of way. And yes, I realize every reader now has that song stuck in their heads. You're welcome.
I am steadfast in my beliefs and I do not cower. If you say the R-word, I am on it like a dog on a bone (or a dog on my shoes, if we're using my actual dog as an example). I am pro things and against things, and while I know my friends and family might disagree, I will respect that, but I won't change. In contrast, I am a complete wet mop, door mat, knock me over with a feather pushover if you need something. I am easily guilted into doing whatever project or serving whatever function you need. Make a note, because if you need something, I will agree to it even when I don't want to. I'm handy to have around.
I used to assume that this need to please just affects me. I am pressed to fit it all in and I have the need to make it all really good, so I won't even half ass the stuff I don't want to ass at all. I'll do it well, but I've come to realize that it isn't just a weight I put on my shoulders. Its shouldered by my family as well.
When I am stressed to fit it all in, I stress my kids out, too. I work three part time jobs so I can be home with my children, but I am not doing them any favors when I bite their heads off constantly because their wants aren't fitting into my hectic schedule. How fair is that? We're tightly scheduled with the things that my kids want to do, and I'm fine with that because they deserve to participate in scouts and sports. But, then I add in my own junk and suddenly the 2 minute window I've created for a potty break is gone and my kid needs a drink of water which is outside the time allotted to getting him drinks and suddenly I'm snapping at him for the fact that he dare get thirsty when I am busy. Good thing I don't have him in daycare when he can get cared for with this much love and affection, right???
The funny part is that I can say no to my friends. I can tell them that I don't have time to go out, or I don't feel up to it. I know that they will love me (and/or tolerate me) regardless. Its the acquaintances I can't say no to. In my need to prove to a total stranger that I can do it all and help where needed, I am proving to my kids that I put a stranger's needs above their own. I'm showing that my time is most important solving problems that someone else can solve, instead of the ones in my home which need a mommy to do it best.
Well, I've decided today that I'm done with that. I am going to be a good mother, and to do that I might not be able to be a good school, PTO, church, scouts, work volunteer. I am going to say no to others so that I can say yes to my kids. I will still have my three part time jobs, but when I'm home with my kids, I'll focus on them full time. And for that, I'll be liked and appreciated by the ones that mean the most instead of those that matter least.
Monday, February 3, 2014
Friday, December 13, 2013
Really, Girls???
I have a serious pile of work to do today. Will has been home sick the past two days, and for a 7 year old, he takes up more time than a baby! Either he feels so awful he needs constant cuddling or he feels decent and is B-O-R-E-D. Luckily, he's at school and today is my day to "make like a burger and KETCHUP!" But, today I am sitting at my computer and every site I open has the same story over and over and I finally have to have my say. Pause while I step onto my soap box...
To Avon (and all other) Teen and Tween Girls With Cell Phones, Ipods, and Other Gadgets:
Your generation is the first of its kind. You have grown up with technology that I could not have imagined at your age. I had Prodigy Internet that basically did nothing and a cell phone when I hit college. You had phones in your hands at birth. Your phones have Internet, cameras, and the ability to connect to anyone and everyone at the touch of a button (or screen)! You are connected and tech savvy in a way that my generation was not. But, here's the part that's a problem. You are equally as STUPID as all past generations of teens.
The difference between your stupid and my stupid is that my stupid didn't result in a permanent record. Your stupid does. I knew girls that would flash their ta-tas to attract boys or keep boys or just make the boys talk about them, but that flashing, while still dumb, stayed between them. You put your ta-tas out there for the whole world to see. Really, girls? Two things to consider....
1. Because you are the generation of technology rich teens, you ought to know better. You've been raised in a world where social media spreads faster than the common cold. Sex tapes and embarrassing photos of celebrities are media frenzies and you know that. No matter how much your boyfriend says he loves you, you know that things happen. Break ups happen. Remember how you were in love with a different boyfriend last week, month or year? And what happens when that love dies, and yet your ta-tas live on in his phone? IT NEVER GOES AWAY!!! Look at SnapChat, the app meant to let you send naked selfies and they disappear. Let's all pause to thank the moron who thought that was a good idea. You and I both know, there are ways around it. One little button push and the image is saved as a screen shot to be passed around to the masses. And, maybe you won't see it today. Maybe not tomorrow. Maybe when you're running for Senator and your naked teen body is splashed around the tabloids. Maybe when you're getting married and your future in-laws Google you and they get an eyeful of their new daughter. You have the technology ladies, don't be ignorant to how it works.
2. You're better than that. Boyfriends will love you without selfies. Nudity is not required to get a boy's attention. I can picture your eye rolls now, but speaking from someone who may be (gasp) 35.... I was once 15. I get the pressure you're under, but rather than bowing to the pressure to impress a boy, think about the person that you should value most. Not him, you! A boy should earn the right to see that part of you, and that doesn't come quickly. If you profess love, make him prove it, not you. And in this case, proof is in the lack of pudding! If your boyfriend says he loves you, he won't pressure you for something that is just plain DUMB! It could get you both in trouble, result in your humiliation and exploitation, and he shouldn't want that for you. If you are trying to get a boy's attention, that's not the right way. Dazzle him with your class, your mind, your self esteem. If it takes your bare breasts to make him see you, he's not really seeing you at all. He's using you. Don't volunteer to let someone use you. You're better than that. I know that even if I don't know who you are. If I can tell that, you should be able to see that, too.
I was seriously disappointed to learn about this story. As the step-mother of an almost 15 year old, it takes my breath away. Be smarter than this, ladies. Be stronger than this, girls. Protect yourselves, women, because I am promise you this, no one else is going to look out for your best interests except you. Be smart enough to do it.
To Avon (and all other) Teen and Tween Girls With Cell Phones, Ipods, and Other Gadgets:
Your generation is the first of its kind. You have grown up with technology that I could not have imagined at your age. I had Prodigy Internet that basically did nothing and a cell phone when I hit college. You had phones in your hands at birth. Your phones have Internet, cameras, and the ability to connect to anyone and everyone at the touch of a button (or screen)! You are connected and tech savvy in a way that my generation was not. But, here's the part that's a problem. You are equally as STUPID as all past generations of teens.
The difference between your stupid and my stupid is that my stupid didn't result in a permanent record. Your stupid does. I knew girls that would flash their ta-tas to attract boys or keep boys or just make the boys talk about them, but that flashing, while still dumb, stayed between them. You put your ta-tas out there for the whole world to see. Really, girls? Two things to consider....
1. Because you are the generation of technology rich teens, you ought to know better. You've been raised in a world where social media spreads faster than the common cold. Sex tapes and embarrassing photos of celebrities are media frenzies and you know that. No matter how much your boyfriend says he loves you, you know that things happen. Break ups happen. Remember how you were in love with a different boyfriend last week, month or year? And what happens when that love dies, and yet your ta-tas live on in his phone? IT NEVER GOES AWAY!!! Look at SnapChat, the app meant to let you send naked selfies and they disappear. Let's all pause to thank the moron who thought that was a good idea. You and I both know, there are ways around it. One little button push and the image is saved as a screen shot to be passed around to the masses. And, maybe you won't see it today. Maybe not tomorrow. Maybe when you're running for Senator and your naked teen body is splashed around the tabloids. Maybe when you're getting married and your future in-laws Google you and they get an eyeful of their new daughter. You have the technology ladies, don't be ignorant to how it works.
2. You're better than that. Boyfriends will love you without selfies. Nudity is not required to get a boy's attention. I can picture your eye rolls now, but speaking from someone who may be (gasp) 35.... I was once 15. I get the pressure you're under, but rather than bowing to the pressure to impress a boy, think about the person that you should value most. Not him, you! A boy should earn the right to see that part of you, and that doesn't come quickly. If you profess love, make him prove it, not you. And in this case, proof is in the lack of pudding! If your boyfriend says he loves you, he won't pressure you for something that is just plain DUMB! It could get you both in trouble, result in your humiliation and exploitation, and he shouldn't want that for you. If you are trying to get a boy's attention, that's not the right way. Dazzle him with your class, your mind, your self esteem. If it takes your bare breasts to make him see you, he's not really seeing you at all. He's using you. Don't volunteer to let someone use you. You're better than that. I know that even if I don't know who you are. If I can tell that, you should be able to see that, too.
I was seriously disappointed to learn about this story. As the step-mother of an almost 15 year old, it takes my breath away. Be smarter than this, ladies. Be stronger than this, girls. Protect yourselves, women, because I am promise you this, no one else is going to look out for your best interests except you. Be smart enough to do it.
Wednesday, November 20, 2013
Do Go Changing
You know that song that has the lyrics about not changing to try and please him? The ones where he loves you just the way you are? Its here in case you don't.
I was thinking about this song today, because I secretly like Billy Joel AND because its not true. The song should really say something along the lines of "I'd prefer it if you'd go ahead and change, but that's probably not going to happen so I'll love you anyway." I'm not sure it has the same ring to it, but it sure rings more true to me.
In reality, there are plenty of people we "love" but would love even more if they would just be exactly the kind of person we want them to be. Is that really too much to ask? I don't mean little stuff, either. I have broken my husband of quite a few annoying little traits that I won't mention here. But, I'm talking about the kind of people who you don't know well enough or they won't love you unconditionally enough to change FOR you.
I was talking to my mom about someone today, and we both agreed that we wish they would see the unfair things they do that are so clear to us. That rang a bell about some other people that I spend a good deal of time wishing would change but don't seem able or willing to. So, it takes us to a crossroads. These people are not going to change for us.We have to be the changers, and change the way we react to the things they do. If not, it will stay stuck in our craw (to use a good ol' southern phrase) and they will stay going right on along doing what they're doing. They don't suffer... we do, because we stew. But, stewing is a lot easier than a craw removal.
I can talk the talk, but I struggle to accept things I cannot change. I'd be a terrible AA member. I want to be able to talk through the issue and let them see the light. However, that has blown up in my face quite a bit. Usually its because the thing I am seeing just isn't seen. Apparently, my light is not universal. Who knew? Other times it could be because they see it, but they don't care enough to change. Another shocker! People might actually not want to mold themselves into my perfect image of them. Wacky. So, I am trying to change myself. To let things go. Put them down. Recognize that I cannot change people and make them who I want them to be. What I can change is how much room they take in my head, in my heart and how much time they take up in my day. I can change that, I think. But if not, I may need a recommendation of a good craw surgeon in the future.
I was thinking about this song today, because I secretly like Billy Joel AND because its not true. The song should really say something along the lines of "I'd prefer it if you'd go ahead and change, but that's probably not going to happen so I'll love you anyway." I'm not sure it has the same ring to it, but it sure rings more true to me.
In reality, there are plenty of people we "love" but would love even more if they would just be exactly the kind of person we want them to be. Is that really too much to ask? I don't mean little stuff, either. I have broken my husband of quite a few annoying little traits that I won't mention here. But, I'm talking about the kind of people who you don't know well enough or they won't love you unconditionally enough to change FOR you.
I was talking to my mom about someone today, and we both agreed that we wish they would see the unfair things they do that are so clear to us. That rang a bell about some other people that I spend a good deal of time wishing would change but don't seem able or willing to. So, it takes us to a crossroads. These people are not going to change for us.We have to be the changers, and change the way we react to the things they do. If not, it will stay stuck in our craw (to use a good ol' southern phrase) and they will stay going right on along doing what they're doing. They don't suffer... we do, because we stew. But, stewing is a lot easier than a craw removal.
I can talk the talk, but I struggle to accept things I cannot change. I'd be a terrible AA member. I want to be able to talk through the issue and let them see the light. However, that has blown up in my face quite a bit. Usually its because the thing I am seeing just isn't seen. Apparently, my light is not universal. Who knew? Other times it could be because they see it, but they don't care enough to change. Another shocker! People might actually not want to mold themselves into my perfect image of them. Wacky. So, I am trying to change myself. To let things go. Put them down. Recognize that I cannot change people and make them who I want them to be. What I can change is how much room they take in my head, in my heart and how much time they take up in my day. I can change that, I think. But if not, I may need a recommendation of a good craw surgeon in the future.
Thursday, November 14, 2013
I Am Old
I am not the kind of person who fears getting older. Hitting 30 was not a trauma, I welcomed it. Of course, I had already pretty much hit my milestones by then. I built a successful career (and then walked away from it, which was kind of fun, too). I got married (for the first time so far) and had kids. In fact, by the time I hit 30, I was good. I celebrated with pink hair extensions. No sadness there. Each year after that has been just an other candle on the cake. After all, getting older sure beats the alternative, right? But, suddenly as I am within weeks of 35, I am feeling O L D.
I am not sure its even the date that is morphing my Google searches from combat boots to orthopedic shoes, but the fact that I feel old. I am the oldest 34 year 50 week old on the planet. Case in point (or points):
I am not sure its even the date that is morphing my Google searches from combat boots to orthopedic shoes, but the fact that I feel old. I am the oldest 34 year 50 week old on the planet. Case in point (or points):
- My birthday and Christmas wish list for my parents and husband includes a Shark Steam Mop and a Dustbuster. Hello, Middle Age. My name is Lynn, but at least I'll be clean.
- I have plantar fasciitis. While that is a foot thingy, it just sounds like the scientific term for "old."
- When I stand from a seated position, there is a cacophony of sounds from creaking ankles, cracking knees, and a guttural groan from the exertion.
- I seriously look forward to the days where I can wear elastic waist pants (but I blame it on work.)
- When my friends came over on Halloween with their little baby, I spent a great deal of time discussing my ulcer and trying to determine if my friend has one, too. Once you stop talking current events and gossip and start comparing ailments, its all down hill from there.
- I have gone from being the youngest in the group, be it at work or the neighborhood, to not. I work with a 24 year old and my next door neighbor is one, too. For those of you doing the math, I am a decade older than my peers. So, when I talk to my friend about how I was in middle school when she was graduating college.... there are now people who can say that to me! TO ME!!!!
Saturday, November 9, 2013
Bunco
Every month I get together with a group of women to play Bunco. Its a funny thing, because number one, they all joked about me blogging about them last night and now I am doing it and two, because when I was first invited, I scoffed about it. I thought it was a game for old ladies and I didn't know most of the other women well, if at all. I am not a good "make new friends-er" and I was hesitant to join the group. But, my desire to abandon my husband and children for the night won out and I went.
There is absolutely no reason why this group works. We are all women who live in the same neighborhood, but the similarities stop there. I am a pretty liberal lady, and the woman who started the group is anything but. Last night's hostess was an animal lover to put it mildly with three rescued dogs, some number of cats and rumor has it there was a guinea pig in the house somewhere. Others were cringing at the furry visitors as they came by. There are mothers, marrieds, singles, divorcees, grandmothers, career professionals, stay home moms, public schoolers, home schoolers, health nuts and some are just plain nuts. But, we come together on the second Friday of the month and we play a silly little dice game of luck and we talk... and we laugh... and we learn from each other anything from recipes to health plans to how to get my new dog to stop pooping upstairs.
It is odd to think that a group like ours could forge friendships with people who have nothing in common, but it did. We are a melting pot of women who don't get together and worry about competing. We cheer the other team as they score higher points and the usual female cattiness is left at the door. Its a weird thing, this Bunco. Its brought together a group of neighbors and turned us into friends. Maybe the world would be a better place if there was a little more Bunco going on.
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
I Don't Drink From A Glass
You know that inane cliché of someone being a glass half empty or a glass half full kind of person? Well, I am not that person. My glass isn't half empty and its not half full. In fact, I drink mostly out of a Diet Coke can that you can't even see inside. I don't know if its half empty, three quarters full or a sip left. I know that its a soda. When I open it, its full. Then I drink it. Then when its gone, its empty. That's my can. Rinse. Recycle. Repeat.
I'm not an optimist, pessimist, or anesthesiologist. I have no ist at all. If I had to add an ist to my personality, I guess I'd be called a realist. I tend to look at things as they are. I don't add in a hopeful rose colored view and I don't doomsday it to death either. It is what it is. React accordingly. When something goes amok (a word my mother embraces for most things), I try to live by the philosophy of "don't panic until there's something to panic about." Deal with the problem, move on. I don't stick my head in the ground and Ethel Merman "every thing's coming up roses" either. I have no roses. Well, that's not true. I planted a rose bush about a month ago. But, I'm not sure its going to survive my black thumb. That's not cynicism, mind you, that's reality. The Jolly Green Giant, I am not.
Nine times out of ten, any comment from me either written on a social media site or coming out of my mouth is an attempt to get a laugh. I tend to blurt out sarcastic nothings rather than serious somethings because I like the laugh. I'm a regular Jim Carrey, minus the facial expressions and paycheck. The reality is negativity gets more laughs. Does that mean I am negative? No. It means the response is funnier that way. Does it paint me in the best light to announce to the Facebook world that my bra snapped open in Meijer and I had to tuck the twins into my waistband and slump out of the store? No. But was that damn funny? YES. Should anything funny be shared with the world even though its embarrassing? YES YES. If it made someone laugh that day, then it was worth it to share my humiliation.
So, that's just a little bit of me. I look at the world and all of its happenings as it is. Sometimes negative, half empty and full of weeds. Sometimes positive, half full and full of flowers. All times worth the joke if you can make it.
I'm not an optimist, pessimist, or anesthesiologist. I have no ist at all. If I had to add an ist to my personality, I guess I'd be called a realist. I tend to look at things as they are. I don't add in a hopeful rose colored view and I don't doomsday it to death either. It is what it is. React accordingly. When something goes amok (a word my mother embraces for most things), I try to live by the philosophy of "don't panic until there's something to panic about." Deal with the problem, move on. I don't stick my head in the ground and Ethel Merman "every thing's coming up roses" either. I have no roses. Well, that's not true. I planted a rose bush about a month ago. But, I'm not sure its going to survive my black thumb. That's not cynicism, mind you, that's reality. The Jolly Green Giant, I am not.
Nine times out of ten, any comment from me either written on a social media site or coming out of my mouth is an attempt to get a laugh. I tend to blurt out sarcastic nothings rather than serious somethings because I like the laugh. I'm a regular Jim Carrey, minus the facial expressions and paycheck. The reality is negativity gets more laughs. Does that mean I am negative? No. It means the response is funnier that way. Does it paint me in the best light to announce to the Facebook world that my bra snapped open in Meijer and I had to tuck the twins into my waistband and slump out of the store? No. But was that damn funny? YES. Should anything funny be shared with the world even though its embarrassing? YES YES. If it made someone laugh that day, then it was worth it to share my humiliation.
So, that's just a little bit of me. I look at the world and all of its happenings as it is. Sometimes negative, half empty and full of weeds. Sometimes positive, half full and full of flowers. All times worth the joke if you can make it.
Tuesday, July 30, 2013
Letter to Will's Second Grade Teacher
I wrote to Will's first grade teacher, his Kindergarten teacher, and his first preschool teacher. Tomorrow, my not so little man walks into his elementary school for the third year. Second grade. It's time for another letter.
Dear Miss K,
Let me introduce you to my son, Will. I know you already know him since he is hard to miss, but, I am pretty sure you don't really know him. So, I am going to take a minute to introduce you to my boy.
Will is a kid who will love you at first sight. In fact, he has hoped for you to be his teacher all summer, so really, the love has already started. He is excited to see all the kids, and every single one of them will be referred to as his "best friend." With that, comes great potential to hurt. He will be deflated when criticized. Heartbroken when ostracized. He is love and pain wrapped up in one.
He is no perfectionist. He will write sloppily because it gets done faster that way. He won't read words, but will guess what a page says because its quicker. His mind will wander while you teach, no matter how interesting you may be. He's a do-er. He's not a sitter. He's not meticulous or careful. He's a bull in a china shop and rushed to do everything so he misses out on nothing. But, he will hold himself to an insanely high standard. He will be crushed by poor grades, despises missing baskets, and often opts to quit something if he thinks he can't do it. He wants perfection, but he's not going to work for it.
Will's smart, but goofy. Happy, but easily dismayed. He's loud, but sensitive to noise. He's a million different things and then the complete opposite in one. He's both ying and yang, up and down, back and front. He's a little of everything and a lot of somethings. He's Will. He loves you and the class and is super excited, but if you ask him, he hates school. He's so very many things these days, so just be sure to see it all. Like Will, you're not going to want to miss a thing!
Thanks!
Me
Dear Miss K,
Let me introduce you to my son, Will. I know you already know him since he is hard to miss, but, I am pretty sure you don't really know him. So, I am going to take a minute to introduce you to my boy.
Will is a kid who will love you at first sight. In fact, he has hoped for you to be his teacher all summer, so really, the love has already started. He is excited to see all the kids, and every single one of them will be referred to as his "best friend." With that, comes great potential to hurt. He will be deflated when criticized. Heartbroken when ostracized. He is love and pain wrapped up in one.
He is no perfectionist. He will write sloppily because it gets done faster that way. He won't read words, but will guess what a page says because its quicker. His mind will wander while you teach, no matter how interesting you may be. He's a do-er. He's not a sitter. He's not meticulous or careful. He's a bull in a china shop and rushed to do everything so he misses out on nothing. But, he will hold himself to an insanely high standard. He will be crushed by poor grades, despises missing baskets, and often opts to quit something if he thinks he can't do it. He wants perfection, but he's not going to work for it.
Will's smart, but goofy. Happy, but easily dismayed. He's loud, but sensitive to noise. He's a million different things and then the complete opposite in one. He's both ying and yang, up and down, back and front. He's a little of everything and a lot of somethings. He's Will. He loves you and the class and is super excited, but if you ask him, he hates school. He's so very many things these days, so just be sure to see it all. Like Will, you're not going to want to miss a thing!
Thanks!
Me
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