When my oldest daughter was born, I was a young insurance underwriter, not particularly enjoying my job. But I was making good money and had good benefits. We'd just purchased our first house and had a big mortgage payment hovering above.
There was no question that I would need to go back to work within three months after her birth. No problem, right? Everybody does it, this is the world we live in.
She was a fussy baby. Yes, colicky...to the extreme. She was an extraordinarily beautiful baby, with a head full of dark hair and fine delicate features, but boy, was she loud. No one could comfort her like me. No one could love her like me.
As I nursed her (it seemed constant), I would look down at her little face and try to figure out how I could possibly leave her. How could I place her in day care? How will anyone else know how to soothe her? She was so fussy, how would anyone have more patience for her than me?
I would compare the expense of GOING to work (work clothes, commuting, the cost of daycare, the cost of lunches everyday) versus the loss of my salary.
It was clear, I couldn't give up my income.
But I did. I had to. Because for the first time in my life, I had a responsibility that I LOVED. I couldn't leave that to go back to something that I despised.
So I left. Money was tight. But I was where I needed to be.
And I became a Stay at Home Mom.
And I still am. It's been 16 years.
But every summer, for 7 years, I become a working mom for 8 weeks. And during that time, I get to do something that I really love. Really enjoy. Really treasure.
I'm listened to. I'm respected. I'm able to help. I'm able to teach, to create, to collaborate. I make decisions, I set a good example. I'm shown appreciation.
That feels good.
And then I come home.
They don't listen so much around here. (Pick up that towel...pick up that towel...PICK UP THAT TOWEL!!!)
They don't show a whole lot of respect. ("Mom, could you not wear your hair like that, it EMBARRASSES ME")
I'm a chauffeur, cook, laundress, maid, psychologist, nurse, entertainment director, censor and most often, a referee. And I'm not shown appreciation.
I think it's time to go back to work.
I need to put myself in a position where I can take on new challenges, learn new things and find appreciation.
So I'm placing this out into the universe, I'M READY TO BE A WORKING MOMMY!
I think....no, I know. I'm ready.
Job? Where are you?
Friday, August 21, 2009
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Proud
Each summer, I get to take on new challenges, and this summer was no exception. My job, has morphed from simply teaching Arts and Crafts into greater responsibilities including costuming our camp play, special events programming and this.
Three years ago, on a whim, I decided to create a little movie for our end of season banquet. Traditionally, at camp, we celebrated the end of the summer with a "themed" dinner party complete with decorations, centerpieces and even tablecloths (a big deal in camp world!) Anyone who knows me well, knows I love to throw a party, and love good surprises even more.
The theme 3 years ago was a Fifties Soda Shop. "And let's make a movie, too," I thought. Before I knew it, I recast the iconic movie Grease starring members of our camp upper staff. We whipped up some costumes, created a script and somehow, my colleagues were ready and eager to participate. Blessedly, my "Danny Zuko" was so excited by the endeavor, he dove in and took over editing responsibilities. And so, our little production company was born.
Somehow, I'm not sure how, in four days in 2007, we produced a movie that thrilled, surprised and enthralled our campers. This summer banquet has changed from being an exclamation point at the end of our summer, to a favorite and beloved event for our campers and staff.
The theme we chose this summer was also reflective of a special era in our history. The Eighties. Amazing that a time that is so fresh in my mind has now become nostalgia. Defining the '80's of course, is MTV, the inspiration for our video.
For a creative person, there is nothing cooler than taking an idea and turning it into reality. I'm so proud of this endeavor and am so glad to share it with you today!
Three years ago, on a whim, I decided to create a little movie for our end of season banquet. Traditionally, at camp, we celebrated the end of the summer with a "themed" dinner party complete with decorations, centerpieces and even tablecloths (a big deal in camp world!) Anyone who knows me well, knows I love to throw a party, and love good surprises even more.
The theme 3 years ago was a Fifties Soda Shop. "And let's make a movie, too," I thought. Before I knew it, I recast the iconic movie Grease starring members of our camp upper staff. We whipped up some costumes, created a script and somehow, my colleagues were ready and eager to participate. Blessedly, my "Danny Zuko" was so excited by the endeavor, he dove in and took over editing responsibilities. And so, our little production company was born.
Somehow, I'm not sure how, in four days in 2007, we produced a movie that thrilled, surprised and enthralled our campers. This summer banquet has changed from being an exclamation point at the end of our summer, to a favorite and beloved event for our campers and staff.
The theme we chose this summer was also reflective of a special era in our history. The Eighties. Amazing that a time that is so fresh in my mind has now become nostalgia. Defining the '80's of course, is MTV, the inspiration for our video.
For a creative person, there is nothing cooler than taking an idea and turning it into reality. I'm so proud of this endeavor and am so glad to share it with you today!
Camp Saginaw Banquet 2009 from Jason Darnell on Vimeo.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Spackle
It's the last day of camp today. The children leave this morning, and the staff leaves early tomorrow. Today's a day for shutting down, packing up and saying goodbye. It's really hard.
Getting to spend every summer in paradise is a good thing. For two months, I don't have to cook, clean up after others, or fold mountains of laundry. For two months, I'm given a kind of respect among my friends, my colleagues and my staff, that I don't necessarily receive anywhere else. For two months, I live in a place where it's totally acceptable to dance in the dining hall, to scoot around in crappy clothes and no make-up, to go out to a bar at 9:00 at night (my normal bedtime!), to giggle incessantly. I watch my children have the time of their lives, learning new skills and making lifelong memories. They're happy. I'm happy.
And now it's time to leave.
How can I?
I really have to recognize that it's the transition that's the hard part. Nine weeks ago, preparing to get here, was an arduous task. Labeling, packing, shopping. Nine weeks ago, I looked around my comfortable home, my quiet neighborhood, the simplicity of my life, and didn't want to give it up.
Nine weeks later, I feel the same way about the journey I'm about to make. A little unsure, a little sad. The task ahead is daunting, but I'll do it. Ten months from now, when it's time to pack up our life again, I'm sure to feel the same uncertainty. Then I get here, and never want to leave.
In the end, I have to be grateful to camp. It helps to define who I am. It fills a certain void in my normal life, a little like spackling the crevices and cracks in an old tired wall. And even though it's only for a precious few weeks, I wouldn't be the same without it.
Getting to spend every summer in paradise is a good thing. For two months, I don't have to cook, clean up after others, or fold mountains of laundry. For two months, I'm given a kind of respect among my friends, my colleagues and my staff, that I don't necessarily receive anywhere else. For two months, I live in a place where it's totally acceptable to dance in the dining hall, to scoot around in crappy clothes and no make-up, to go out to a bar at 9:00 at night (my normal bedtime!), to giggle incessantly. I watch my children have the time of their lives, learning new skills and making lifelong memories. They're happy. I'm happy.
And now it's time to leave.
How can I?
I really have to recognize that it's the transition that's the hard part. Nine weeks ago, preparing to get here, was an arduous task. Labeling, packing, shopping. Nine weeks ago, I looked around my comfortable home, my quiet neighborhood, the simplicity of my life, and didn't want to give it up.
Nine weeks later, I feel the same way about the journey I'm about to make. A little unsure, a little sad. The task ahead is daunting, but I'll do it. Ten months from now, when it's time to pack up our life again, I'm sure to feel the same uncertainty. Then I get here, and never want to leave.
In the end, I have to be grateful to camp. It helps to define who I am. It fills a certain void in my normal life, a little like spackling the crevices and cracks in an old tired wall. And even though it's only for a precious few weeks, I wouldn't be the same without it.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
emptiness
Yesterday, we watched my sister-in-law bury her son. He was 16 years old. He was healthy and active and living his life to the fullest, when it was taken in an instant. Perhaps a momentary lapse of judgment or perhaps the hand of God coming down and plucking a special person from this world. Whatever the reason, he's gone now. The shock of the news still stings, but being at the funeral was probably the most unbearable experience I've ever had.
I worry most for his mother. One of the most nurturing people I've ever known. He was her youngest. Her baby. Only 2 1/2 pounds at birth, he fought then, and he survived. With a preemie, I think you always worry, particularly when they're little. Somehow, they're more fragile than full term babies. But Evan grew and grew and grew...amazingly, since when he was a little boy he ate little more than orange juice and pepperoni. At the time of his passing, he was looked to be at least 6 feet tall.
My heart is saddened for all the reasons one would expect. He was too young. It shouldn't have been his time. No parent should have to feel what my sister-in-law is feeling today.
My heart weeps for a reason I wouldn't have expected. I weep for the relationship we never really had. In listening to stories about him, relayed by his friends at the funeral, all I kept thinking was, I never really knew this about him. He was so much more than the quiet boy, who showed me a shy smile when I would touch his face to tell him how "grown-up" he was becoming. I weep for the loss of my daughters' cousin. I was so happy that Evan and Hayley were born just 6 months apart...but they were both kind of shy, so as they grew up, they became less and less connected. And over the years, the opportunities to spend time together waned.
His friends were understandably devastated by his loss. As the funeral, they were inconsolable. It was heartbreaking.
Hayley told me as we were leaving the cemetery, that she felt saddened that she hadn't had the chance to know him better. But then, she thought, this would have been so much harder for her to cope with if she had.
There are no reasons that make sense for any of this. There are no words that can make this better. I weep for my family. My sister-in-law. My nieces. My mother-in-law. My husband.
After leaving the funeral, you return to the land of the "living". For me, the daily routine, responsibilities, and friendships help to extinguish the heartbreak. But for his mom, oh my...I pray that she can find small joys as she begins her difficult journey towards healing.
I worry most for his mother. One of the most nurturing people I've ever known. He was her youngest. Her baby. Only 2 1/2 pounds at birth, he fought then, and he survived. With a preemie, I think you always worry, particularly when they're little. Somehow, they're more fragile than full term babies. But Evan grew and grew and grew...amazingly, since when he was a little boy he ate little more than orange juice and pepperoni. At the time of his passing, he was looked to be at least 6 feet tall.
My heart is saddened for all the reasons one would expect. He was too young. It shouldn't have been his time. No parent should have to feel what my sister-in-law is feeling today.
My heart weeps for a reason I wouldn't have expected. I weep for the relationship we never really had. In listening to stories about him, relayed by his friends at the funeral, all I kept thinking was, I never really knew this about him. He was so much more than the quiet boy, who showed me a shy smile when I would touch his face to tell him how "grown-up" he was becoming. I weep for the loss of my daughters' cousin. I was so happy that Evan and Hayley were born just 6 months apart...but they were both kind of shy, so as they grew up, they became less and less connected. And over the years, the opportunities to spend time together waned.
His friends were understandably devastated by his loss. As the funeral, they were inconsolable. It was heartbreaking.
Hayley told me as we were leaving the cemetery, that she felt saddened that she hadn't had the chance to know him better. But then, she thought, this would have been so much harder for her to cope with if she had.
There are no reasons that make sense for any of this. There are no words that can make this better. I weep for my family. My sister-in-law. My nieces. My mother-in-law. My husband.
After leaving the funeral, you return to the land of the "living". For me, the daily routine, responsibilities, and friendships help to extinguish the heartbreak. But for his mom, oh my...I pray that she can find small joys as she begins her difficult journey towards healing.
Friday, May 22, 2009
Fork in the Road
My girls are on the cusp of the time in their lives where they'll start making real life-changing decisions. Experience has taught me plenty, not the least of which is the fact that my girls (sadly) aren't interested in learning from my experiences. When my own mother gives advice to me, there are times when I think, "I'm going to do this my way." But in the end, my mother is usually right. I guess there are just some lessons that we choose learn on our own.
But...if they would really listen, ....here's a bit of what I'd say.
1. Never act on a knee-jerk reaction. When something is a little unsettling, let it marinate for a little bit, before deciding how to proceed.
2. Give people the benefit of the doubt. Nobody sets out to be a bad person.
3. The person with most power in any relationship is the one with the least interest in that relationship.
4. Stick to your studies, you can watch TV or surf the internet later.
5. Don't get a tattoo. It might be really cute on a young wrinkle free body, but it will only look stupid when you are my age. Plus, it will embarrass your children.
6. A belly button ring is actually not that bad. As long as your tummy is flat as a board.
7. Push yourself to do for others. It's easier to sit back, and remain self-absorbed, but in the end, you will end up isolated and lonely.
8. Don't lose your virginity. Ever. Okay, maybe that's a little harsh. But when you do, make sure you are not drunk, you are deeply in love and at least 34 years old. ;)
9. But seriously, don't get married at least until you are in your late twenties. You have plenty of years to be a grown up, enjoy your youth, travel, stay up all night, eat cereal for dinner.
10. Don't get caught up in the romantic notion that having a baby is easy. It's not all lullabies and baby powder. It's hard work, and nothing can prepare you for the shock of a screaming hungry baby at 3:30 in the morning.
11. Pay your bills on time.
12. Don't ever think that material possessions will make you happy.
13. Never forget to remind yourself of your blessings.
14. Don't put yourself down, people can only intimidate you if you allow them to.
15. Put your goal's ahead of immediate gratification.
16. Take chances, color outside the lines, surprise yourself.
There are so many more little pearls of wisdom I could share, but duty (okay, really big laundry pile) calls.
In the end, I would tell my kids, this:
You don't ALWAYS have to listen to your mother. I may have my opinions, my wishes, my hopes for you, but in the end, this is your life. Make your own choices, but remember to value your mother's voice of experience. She's usually right.
But...if they would really listen, ....here's a bit of what I'd say.
1. Never act on a knee-jerk reaction. When something is a little unsettling, let it marinate for a little bit, before deciding how to proceed.
2. Give people the benefit of the doubt. Nobody sets out to be a bad person.
3. The person with most power in any relationship is the one with the least interest in that relationship.
4. Stick to your studies, you can watch TV or surf the internet later.
5. Don't get a tattoo. It might be really cute on a young wrinkle free body, but it will only look stupid when you are my age. Plus, it will embarrass your children.
6. A belly button ring is actually not that bad. As long as your tummy is flat as a board.
7. Push yourself to do for others. It's easier to sit back, and remain self-absorbed, but in the end, you will end up isolated and lonely.
8. Don't lose your virginity. Ever. Okay, maybe that's a little harsh. But when you do, make sure you are not drunk, you are deeply in love and at least 34 years old. ;)
9. But seriously, don't get married at least until you are in your late twenties. You have plenty of years to be a grown up, enjoy your youth, travel, stay up all night, eat cereal for dinner.
10. Don't get caught up in the romantic notion that having a baby is easy. It's not all lullabies and baby powder. It's hard work, and nothing can prepare you for the shock of a screaming hungry baby at 3:30 in the morning.
11. Pay your bills on time.
12. Don't ever think that material possessions will make you happy.
13. Never forget to remind yourself of your blessings.
14. Don't put yourself down, people can only intimidate you if you allow them to.
15. Put your goal's ahead of immediate gratification.
16. Take chances, color outside the lines, surprise yourself.
There are so many more little pearls of wisdom I could share, but duty (okay, really big laundry pile) calls.
In the end, I would tell my kids, this:
You don't ALWAYS have to listen to your mother. I may have my opinions, my wishes, my hopes for you, but in the end, this is your life. Make your own choices, but remember to value your mother's voice of experience. She's usually right.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
AM I a good Mom?
The night before last, we went out for a family dinner. We were celebrating an important anniversary, 20 years (!) since my husband and I met. Usually, people celebrate wedding anniversaries and birthdays, but, that night, 20 years ago, was so magical, it will always hold a special place in my memory bank. (For a full description, you can see my post from last year!)
My husband, (sweetheart that he is) lifted his glass of ice water to make a toast. "To my wonderful wife and the best mom in the world". We clinked glasses, and I felt, both flattered and embarrassed. Surely I'm not the best mom in the world, but would I even qualify as a "good" mom?
I hate homework (they should be able to do it themselves) , I don't make lunches (I send in some lunch money), I don't make their beds. I never remember to pick up toilet paper at the supermarket. I haven't attended a PTA meeting in years. I RSVP'd for Addie to attend a birthday party on Sunday, then completely forgot to take her. I don't feel particularly mature, or particularly together. The laundry never gets finished. There are weeds to pull, that I never get to. I don't like playing catch outside, I'm bad at pretend. I've missed a few soccer games, here and there. I always forget to fill out permission slips.
I have the makings of a HORRIBLE MOM!!!
Okay, here's the part where I make myself feel better.
NOBODY is a perfect mom. We all have our gifts, we all have our weaknesses. And though my list of weaknesses is a mile long, at least I know where my strengths lie.
We sit down for a family dinner most every night. We turn off the TV, cell phones and computers for that brief 45 minutes.
My husband and I proudly show our affection for each other, and I believe we've shown the girls that a loving relationship is based on mutual respect and trust, and genuine friendship.
My daughter's confide in me. (Sometimes more than I'd like them too!) But they trust me enough to tell me stuff that I could never have shared with my own mother (who, by the way, is the ultimate great mom).
My daughter's treat other's with respect. They always remember to say please and thank you.
I've demonstrated to my daughters the importance of family, not just our little nuclear family, but our extended family, as well.
Of course we all love each other, but we actually LIKE each other as well.
We know how to laugh at ourselves, and find humor in just about anything.
The stuff I'm good at, isn't necessarily the day to day organizational side of parenthood. That part doesn't come very naturally to me. It is the intangibles that are my strength. Whether that's better for my children in the long run, I don't know. But when you get down to it, we're all just trying to do our best.
I'm sure my mother made mistakes, but I never once questioned her love for me. And, in the end, I'm hoping that my daughters will be able to say the same thing about me.
Happy Mother's Day
My husband, (sweetheart that he is) lifted his glass of ice water to make a toast. "To my wonderful wife and the best mom in the world". We clinked glasses, and I felt, both flattered and embarrassed. Surely I'm not the best mom in the world, but would I even qualify as a "good" mom?
I hate homework (they should be able to do it themselves) , I don't make lunches (I send in some lunch money), I don't make their beds. I never remember to pick up toilet paper at the supermarket. I haven't attended a PTA meeting in years. I RSVP'd for Addie to attend a birthday party on Sunday, then completely forgot to take her. I don't feel particularly mature, or particularly together. The laundry never gets finished. There are weeds to pull, that I never get to. I don't like playing catch outside, I'm bad at pretend. I've missed a few soccer games, here and there. I always forget to fill out permission slips.
I have the makings of a HORRIBLE MOM!!!
Okay, here's the part where I make myself feel better.
NOBODY is a perfect mom. We all have our gifts, we all have our weaknesses. And though my list of weaknesses is a mile long, at least I know where my strengths lie.
We sit down for a family dinner most every night. We turn off the TV, cell phones and computers for that brief 45 minutes.
My husband and I proudly show our affection for each other, and I believe we've shown the girls that a loving relationship is based on mutual respect and trust, and genuine friendship.
My daughter's confide in me. (Sometimes more than I'd like them too!) But they trust me enough to tell me stuff that I could never have shared with my own mother (who, by the way, is the ultimate great mom).
My daughter's treat other's with respect. They always remember to say please and thank you.
I've demonstrated to my daughters the importance of family, not just our little nuclear family, but our extended family, as well.
Of course we all love each other, but we actually LIKE each other as well.
We know how to laugh at ourselves, and find humor in just about anything.
The stuff I'm good at, isn't necessarily the day to day organizational side of parenthood. That part doesn't come very naturally to me. It is the intangibles that are my strength. Whether that's better for my children in the long run, I don't know. But when you get down to it, we're all just trying to do our best.
I'm sure my mother made mistakes, but I never once questioned her love for me. And, in the end, I'm hoping that my daughters will be able to say the same thing about me.
Happy Mother's Day
Sunday, April 5, 2009
When I say Colic was Easier, I MEAN IT!
The subject of teen drinking has been an ongoing conversation in our house for the past few months. It's completely rampant. It's completely available. And it's completely frightening.
We have rules. When invited to a party, there must be a parent there.
We encourage good choices.
We remind them about peer pressure, and how not to succumb.
We tell them horror stories, about drunk driving accidents, alcohol poisoning, vomiting, acting stupid.
We are fighting an uphill battle. There will always be kids who's parents aren't as vigilant as we try to be. There will always be kids who want to bring your kid down to their level. There will always be parties, where, though supervised, booze makes it way into the front door.
I want my daughters to have fun with their friends. I want them to make good choices.
If we are made aware of a dangerous situation, we act upon it.
Last night, we were made aware of the fact that our daughter was at a party, with no parent at home. In charge was the 18 year old brother of the boy that invited her.
I can easily make the assumption that if no parents are about, there will be alcohol.
We picked her up and brought her home.
If you are 15 years old, this is about as embarrassing as can be. I recognize this. I actually feel bad about this. But I'm not going to take any chances when I'm made aware of a situation.
I'm constantly reminded by her, that the other kids' parents don't care like we do. (As if this is a bad thing)...I can't believe that. I can't believe that other parents would turn the other cheek if they were made aware of the situation, as we were last night.
Do I expect her to make it through her high school years without being exposed to temptation like drugs and alcohol? Of course not. I can't make it go away,(oh how I wish I could!); but I can't condone it either.
Aaarggh!
This is so much harder than I thought it would be!!!!!!!!
We have rules. When invited to a party, there must be a parent there.
We encourage good choices.
We remind them about peer pressure, and how not to succumb.
We tell them horror stories, about drunk driving accidents, alcohol poisoning, vomiting, acting stupid.
We are fighting an uphill battle. There will always be kids who's parents aren't as vigilant as we try to be. There will always be kids who want to bring your kid down to their level. There will always be parties, where, though supervised, booze makes it way into the front door.
I want my daughters to have fun with their friends. I want them to make good choices.
If we are made aware of a dangerous situation, we act upon it.
Last night, we were made aware of the fact that our daughter was at a party, with no parent at home. In charge was the 18 year old brother of the boy that invited her.
I can easily make the assumption that if no parents are about, there will be alcohol.
We picked her up and brought her home.
If you are 15 years old, this is about as embarrassing as can be. I recognize this. I actually feel bad about this. But I'm not going to take any chances when I'm made aware of a situation.
I'm constantly reminded by her, that the other kids' parents don't care like we do. (As if this is a bad thing)...I can't believe that. I can't believe that other parents would turn the other cheek if they were made aware of the situation, as we were last night.
Do I expect her to make it through her high school years without being exposed to temptation like drugs and alcohol? Of course not. I can't make it go away,(oh how I wish I could!); but I can't condone it either.
Aaarggh!
This is so much harder than I thought it would be!!!!!!!!
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Where Have I Been?
I must admit, there are several reasons why I'm not blogging with the gusto that I used to. It makes me really sad, actually, because my blog served as not only a journal of my life, but a true creative outlet for my writing.
When I first started blogging, my daughters were just entering their teen years, on the cusp, if you will. And as they say, the older your children get, the bigger the problems become.
My girls are really pretty good kids. I'm sure my challenges are shared by many other moms and dads in the world. Writing has always been therapeutic for me. I seem to be able to make sense out of my jumbled mind when I see my thoughts written in black and white. But I want to respect their privacy. Writing here doesn't certainly doesn't give them that respect.
I have considered making this blog private, but I still wouldn't feel comfortable sharing certain aspects of our life.
So I've been skirting around the issue. I can post without "naming names" or giving painful details. I just can't post as often.
But I don't want to give up on my blog. I'm actually very proud of it.
So that's where I've been...
When I first started blogging, my daughters were just entering their teen years, on the cusp, if you will. And as they say, the older your children get, the bigger the problems become.
My girls are really pretty good kids. I'm sure my challenges are shared by many other moms and dads in the world. Writing has always been therapeutic for me. I seem to be able to make sense out of my jumbled mind when I see my thoughts written in black and white. But I want to respect their privacy. Writing here doesn't certainly doesn't give them that respect.
I have considered making this blog private, but I still wouldn't feel comfortable sharing certain aspects of our life.
So I've been skirting around the issue. I can post without "naming names" or giving painful details. I just can't post as often.
But I don't want to give up on my blog. I'm actually very proud of it.
So that's where I've been...
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
25 Randoms
If you are a Facebooker, you must have seen these people writing these lists. Anyway, I got tagged...so filled it out as well, and am publishing it here in an effort to keep Colic alive....
- Most people I know would describe me as outgoing, I’m actually pretty shy.
- The hardest part about raising teenagers has been in letting go, and letting them make decisions on their own. As taxing as the toddler and preschool years were, I miss the sweetness and innocence of that chapter of my life.
- The most profound moment in my life was giving birth to my first child. I just couldn’t believe I made a little person.
- If you call me and leave a message, there is a 60% chance I won’t return your call. It’s not that I don’t mean to, it’s just that I get distracted pretty easily, and before you know it…whoops, I forgot to call you back. Please know this now, and accept my apologies in advance.
- I tend to keep friendships at arms length. I’ve developed this as a defense mechanism over the years. I know a lot of people, but very few are part of my inner circle.
- I’ve written a blog for almost 2 years. I’m actually really proud of some of my essays.
- I played the trumpet and piano as a kid. As an adult, I took piano lessons for a year. I loved it so much, but had to stop with the lessons, because it was too hard to tear myself away from playing which was a total joy…but more important stuff wasn’t getting done…laundry, cooking, etc. I hope to take it up again when we’re empty nesters.
- I love Facebook, I love to have a link with people who I’d otherwise never have the opportunity to see.
- I’ve been in love only once. It’s been twenty years. And I still can’t get over the fact that he loves me back.
- I didn’t cry on my wedding day, when my babies were born or at the girls’ Bat Mitzvah, but I wept like a baby when I saw the video of my sister meeting her daughter in Taiwan for the very first time.
- I don’t know what I would do without my sister.
- My greatest regret is dropping out of college. My greatest fear is that I have set a bad example for my daughters.
- I really love the Goon-N-Plenty, the Keurig and the Swirl, Tap and Buff.
- I work at an overnight camp in the summer. I run the art program. I am so grateful for this job and for the experience. I love to nurture my creative spirit, I love to find new challenges. It is because of this job, that I have gained enough confidence in myself to embark on my graphic design studies.
- I still call my parents Mommy and Daddy. And I will not apologize for this.
- I talk to my parents and my sister at least once a day, but usually many more times than that.
- I don’t understand how I got to be 45 years old. That’s ridiculous.
- I love our new president; I don’t ever remember having the opportunity to witness GREATNESS. I’m so glad my kids are old enough to recognize that we are living through an enormously historic time. Plus, I can’t stop thinking about what it must be like for Sasha and Malia to live in the White House.
- I’m afraid if I don’t say goodbye, I won’t ever see you again. So I always say goodbye.
- I don’t really care about having fancy things. I wish I did sometimes, but I just don’t care.
- I had a nose job when I was 18 years old. I woke up in the middle of the operation and heard them sawing away. I don’t think I could ever have plastic surgery again. (Not that there aren’t plenty of areas for improvement!)
- When my husband comes home from work, I still get butterflies.
- I see different tiny piece of myself in each of my daughters, but mostly I can’t believe how different and unique they are, not only from me, but from each other as well.
- We wanted to give our daughters the best that we could offer, and I’m grateful that we can, but I worry, that one day, they will not have developed the coping skills one can gain from living through difficult times.
- I am truly grateful, I feel like I’ve been blessed with a magnificent husband, amazing kids, adoring family and loyal friends. And I still don’t know what I did to deserve such good fortune.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Feeling Really Awful
I just hung up the phone with an old friend. The kind of friend who's seen me at my worst, my best and my in between. She's frustrated with me. With good reason. I haven't been the most loyal friend for the past couple of years. It wasn't that anything precipitated my behavior. She was never mean, did nothing wrong...life just continues. I suck at returning phone calls. I suck at making plans. I suck at keeping in touch. Part of me is kind of shy...silly, I know, but I sometimes feel awkward calling people just to say hi. Part of me is really kind of introspective. I keep everything to myself, and don't really reach out. I don't like to burden. Part of me is just a loner. I am kind of a homebody, a bit of a hermit. I don't know how this happened to me, it's just kind of did. But my treatment of her, and other good, old friends...not really acceptable.
I know if I continue along this path, I'll find myself, with no friends.
I don't know why I felt the need to write this in here. I'm feeling really raw, really emotional at the moment, and maybe just needed to put it out there. Like if it's in black and white, I can't deny my poor behavior anymore, I have to acknowledge it, and try to correct it.
If you are one of my good friends, thank you for your patience with probably my worst flaw. I appreciate you, and am grateful for you.
I know if I continue along this path, I'll find myself, with no friends.
I don't know why I felt the need to write this in here. I'm feeling really raw, really emotional at the moment, and maybe just needed to put it out there. Like if it's in black and white, I can't deny my poor behavior anymore, I have to acknowledge it, and try to correct it.
If you are one of my good friends, thank you for your patience with probably my worst flaw. I appreciate you, and am grateful for you.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Oh Facebook, How I Love Thee....
As I sit here at home, in bed for the 4th day of a lousy sinus/ear infection thingy, I've finally had the chance to think about my lonesome lil' blog....forgive grammar and spelling mistakes, I'm slightly delirious...
I have been a Facebook member for quite a while. I joined sort of as a gag when one summer. 
my staff members were spending all their "off" time checking their Facebook pages. I didn't understand what it was. So I joined, in hopes of figuring out what the fuss was all about. Suffice to say, I still didn't really get it. It just wasn't really that compelling.
But then, circumstances changed. I started to notice that more "grown-up" people were joining in on the craze. I was able to locate 25 or so members of my high school graduating class. I don't think I actually "friended" them, but, it was cool to see that these folks were still out there, living their lives.
One day, I heard the news of a death of one of my classmates. He wasn't in my inner circle of friends, but I remembered him fondly, we were in some plays together, sang in choir together. He was just a really nice kid. And I never thought of him, without thinking about his Best Friend. They were "partners in crime" so to speak. And I felt the need to express my condolences somehow to his friend who'd I'd long since lost touch with.
I found that old friend on Facebook, was able to write him a note, and we eventually "friended" each other. Since then, many more old friends and acquaintances have resurfaced on Facebook, and amazingly I find myself reconnecting with people with whom I'd otherwise probably never have occasion to see again. It's really something.
My Facebook connections have taken me on a backwards journey of my life. It started with my more recent friends, recent camp connections, kids friend, etc. Then old camp connections, old dates, and college friends came out of the woodwork. High School Friends reappeared and just recently, an old friend from the neighborhood, who I'd known since kindergarten but hadn't seen since I was 14 years old reconnected with me. I've even "friended' my 5th grade teacher!!
And each time I find one of these "new" old friends, I go on a little ride right back to the past. I remember things that have long since been filed away in a deep corner of my mind. I remember funny things, (huck-a-poo shirts, boy/girl parties, camp hi-jinx), embarrassing things (none that I'll recount here), and the saddest things I've ever had to think about (the death of a little boy in my neighborhood).
I find some of the same ancient, useless emotions crop up when I see photos of some of the old gang...how I never really felt like I fit in, how certain girls still remind me of my inadequacies, make me feel "not good enough". How certain people still instill a sense of warmth and kindness in their being.
In the end, we all have a need to be part of a community. Whether it's our bloggy friends, our kid's friends parents, co-workers, family members or neighbors. It's cool, that in this new age, we have one more way to be a part of something. And while some might think Facebook is kind of silly, and a bit of a time sucker (which it can be), it's just a really nice way to reconnect, and be a member of a community.
my staff members were spending all their "off" time checking their Facebook pages. I didn't understand what it was. So I joined, in hopes of figuring out what the fuss was all about. Suffice to say, I still didn't really get it. It just wasn't really that compelling.But then, circumstances changed. I started to notice that more "grown-up" people were joining in on the craze. I was able to locate 25 or so members of my high school graduating class. I don't think I actually "friended" them, but, it was cool to see that these folks were still out there, living their lives.
One day, I heard the news of a death of one of my classmates. He wasn't in my inner circle of friends, but I remembered him fondly, we were in some plays together, sang in choir together. He was just a really nice kid. And I never thought of him, without thinking about his Best Friend. They were "partners in crime" so to speak. And I felt the need to express my condolences somehow to his friend who'd I'd long since lost touch with.
I found that old friend on Facebook, was able to write him a note, and we eventually "friended" each other. Since then, many more old friends and acquaintances have resurfaced on Facebook, and amazingly I find myself reconnecting with people with whom I'd otherwise probably never have occasion to see again. It's really something.
My Facebook connections have taken me on a backwards journey of my life. It started with my more recent friends, recent camp connections, kids friend, etc. Then old camp connections, old dates, and college friends came out of the woodwork. High School Friends reappeared and just recently, an old friend from the neighborhood, who I'd known since kindergarten but hadn't seen since I was 14 years old reconnected with me. I've even "friended' my 5th grade teacher!!
And each time I find one of these "new" old friends, I go on a little ride right back to the past. I remember things that have long since been filed away in a deep corner of my mind. I remember funny things, (huck-a-poo shirts, boy/girl parties, camp hi-jinx), embarrassing things (none that I'll recount here), and the saddest things I've ever had to think about (the death of a little boy in my neighborhood).
I find some of the same ancient, useless emotions crop up when I see photos of some of the old gang...how I never really felt like I fit in, how certain girls still remind me of my inadequacies, make me feel "not good enough". How certain people still instill a sense of warmth and kindness in their being.
In the end, we all have a need to be part of a community. Whether it's our bloggy friends, our kid's friends parents, co-workers, family members or neighbors. It's cool, that in this new age, we have one more way to be a part of something. And while some might think Facebook is kind of silly, and a bit of a time sucker (which it can be), it's just a really nice way to reconnect, and be a member of a community.
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