One day, I’m going to get an internship at the Behr Paint Factory. I’ll show up for work in jeans and sit in one of those spinning desk chairs that tip back. I’ll prop my feet on the desk and throw Nerf basketballs in the net above the coffee machine. I’ll spend the whole day brainstorming with my jean-clad co-workers about paint names. Continue reading →
14
Nov 11
The Impact of Attitude
The longer I live, the more I realize the impact of attitude on life. Attitude, to me, is more important than facts. It is more important than the past, than education, than money, than circumstances, than failures, than successes, than what other people think or say or do. It is more important than appearance, giftedness, or skill. It will make or break a company … a church … a home. The remarkable thing is we have a choice every day regarding the attitude we will embrace for that day. We cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on the one string we have, and that is our attitude … I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me, and 90% how I react to it.
And so it is with you … we are in charge of our Attitudes.
C. Swindoll*
I have a choice.
I could wake this morning, annoyed that winter is on its way, and I’ll soon be shoveling walks and hauling firewood; or I could appreciate the built-in exercise routine that doesn’t require a monthly health club fee.
I could be angry that I am a single mom with full responsibility for raising two kids by myself; or I could appreciate how fortunate I am that they are with me 98 percent of the time.
I could be missing the much nicer house we used to live in, and the lack of money worries; or I could appreciate that this home is full of love and comfort, and my kids have learned valuable lessons that come from living within our means.
I could be annoyed by the mess from the English Muffins and coffee makings; or I could appreciate that they can make their own breakfast, and make me a cup while they’re at it.
I could be anxious that I’m single and 49; or I could revel in the sheer joy of being single and 49.
I could be worried about what the future holds, and whether I’ll benefit from the choices I’m making; or I could trust that the level of contentment I see in the three of us is a good indication that we are headed in the right direction.
I could be cranky about having started a bathroom remodel when I know next to nothing about such things; or I could turn this into a homeschool project where all three of us learn in the process.
I could bark at the kids when I can’t handle the mess; or I could acknowledge that this is their house, too, and gently ask them to help when I feel overwhelmed.
__________
I could choose to see what is wrong in our life and our choices; or I could choose to see what is right.
I can choose to wake with a positive attitude and greet my two with a smile and a kind voice that gets the day off to a good start.
I have a choice.
*Thank you, Kate. ;)
09
Nov 11
Ordinary, Everyday Bright Spots
They are in there.
I promise.
You might have to train yourself to look at things differently.
Some bright spots may require a little effort on your part.
Some bright spots just happen.
Once you notice them, savor them.
- Perfectly steeped tea, toast with the right amount of seedless raspberry jam, a good magazine and a few quiet moments to read.
- A Jackson Browne song, followed by a Bonnie Raitt song, followed by Fleetwood Mac on the radio as you’re driving down a tree-lined street under a canopy of red, yellow and gold.
- When the kids enjoy working together to build a ginormous pile of leaves for jumping in; and the sound of their caring, cooperative voices laughing and happy.
- A canceled dad visit.
- An email from a friend that simply says, “I was thinking of you today.”
- The cat jumping into your lap, simultaneously warming you and slowing your heart rate.
- When she finds the perfect leaf engraved with the mysterious zig zag and sets about pressing it in waxed paper between two heavy cookbooks, and doesn’t ask for help.
- When he yells, “Thanks for washing my clothes, mom!”
- A long, hot, uninterrupted, steamy shower with time to apply rosemary-scented pumice foot rub on dry cracked heels.
- Spontaneous hugs and whispers of “I love you” from the child who didn’t use to be so demonstrative.
- When she says, “Mom, can I fold the towels? Please?”
- When, at 4:30, you call and invite someone for dinner at 6, and they say, “Yes! And I’ll bring the wine!”
- When you stop raking for a second, realize that it’s not windy, and you can hear the train rumbling along the tracks down by the river and the high-pitched sound of the wings of the Canadian Geese as they fly over head.
- That first sip of Merlot when the spaghetti sauce is simmering gently, the kids are outside rolling in the leaves and Dean Martin’s version of Sway comes on the iPod.
- That delicious place at the end of the day when all the doors are locked, the kids are tucked in safely, you lay back on a new pillow, open up a new book, and realize you have the freedom to read for as long as you want.
- The moment when you realize that all your choices have brought you to this place in time, and you discover that you are right where you want to be.
04
Nov 11
Around the Corner
The car was stocked with corn nuts, sunflower seeds, pretzels, waters and grapes. (I forgot the Fritos.) Kids had their papers and pens for marking off which animals they might see. The tank was full of gas and the heat was cranked. Continue reading →
31
Oct 11
Scary
Scary is having your son’s 1st grade teacher ask you if there are problems at home that might explain your son’s nervous tic.
Scary is loosing contact with family and friends because your husband doesn’t like you to keep in touch over the phone or have company come for dinner.
Scary is not being able to sleep because you fear the treatment you’ll receive the next day because you will – once again – disappoint him and fail to meet his expectations.
Scary is believing that you have done something to bring about the treatment you are receiving.
Scary is staring out the window while sipping the morning’s first cup of coffee and realizing that the emptiness you feel every day is what you are going to feel for the rest of your life, if you don’t get out of this situation.
Scary is realizing you have forgotten who you are.
Scary is finally getting the courage to write him a letter explaining your fears and desperation, only to have him tell you that the issues are yours and he’ll support you in your efforts to fix them.
Scary is believing you don’t deserve any better.
Scary is knowing that your husband can’t see his own children for who they are, but tries to mold them into what he wants them to be.
Scary is knowing that if you stay, your children’s spirits will be snuffed out.
Scary is feeling so frightened and desperate that you pack your bags and leave the house you’ve lived in for thirteen years without having a backup plan.
Scary is knowing everyone thinks you are crazy for leaving such a wonderful person.
Scary is getting out, and fearing you’ll end up in another relationship with a narcissist.
25
Oct 11
Self Care In Stolen Moments
In an unexpected turn of events, both kids ended up at grandma’s.
She could do laundry, rake leaves, return phone calls or unload the dishwasher.
She could clean the cat box, change the water in the fish bowls, pick up the remnants of thread from last night’s craft fest, or run errands.
Without giving it any more thought, she jumped in the car and headed for the wine shop. She re-filled a bottle with basil-infused olive oil and selected an every-day bottle of red wine.
When she got home, she kicked off her shoes and ignored the mess.
She cued Nora Jones on Pandora and stood at the kitchen sink looking out the window at the crimson leaves waiting for a strong gust of wind.
She spied a ripe tomato on the windowsill and went to work.
She put a cast iron pan on medium heat; thinly sliced the tomato; thickly sliced the Monterey Jack, grabbed two slices of bread and butter. She gathered deli ham, balsamic vinegar, Italian Seasoning and a jelly jar.
She layered ham on one slice of bread, added cheese and tomato, and covered with the other slice of bread. She spread one outer side of the sandwich with butter and placed it in the warmed pan. She buttered the remaining side.
She kept the heat at medium so the cheese would slowly melt, sealing the tomatoes to the ham while the bread slightly toasted.
She poured an inch of cabernet in the jelly jar.
She turned up the volume on Pandora.
She glanced again through the kitchen window, took a deep breath and didn’t let herself think about laundry, raking, dishes or bills.
She flipped the sandwich and took a sip of wine.
She cleared a place on the kitchen table, moving things aside, not putting them away.
Once the sandwich was toasted and the cheese was melty, she moved it to a plate and separated the sandwich to reveal the warmed tomato slices. She drizzled balsamic and the basil-infused olive oil over the tomatoes, soaking the toasted bread. She dusted the tomatoes with Italian Seasoning.
After another sip of wine, she took her first bite.
__________
It’s not often that she has a moment to herself. She seldom takes the time to fix herself something yummy to eat.
As she savored the sweetness of the tomatoes, the richness of the cheese and the earthiness of the balsamic, she tried to direct her thoughts.
In her mind, she tied a wide, crimson-colored satin bow around the things she ought to do next.
She pushed them all aside.
Instead, she imagined opening a gift.
The gift was a present to herself. As she unwrapped the package, images began flying out of the box. The images represented all the things she was grateful for: her happy, healthy smiling kids; their cozy little home; good friends and family and her own health.
She took another bite as she visualized more images flying out of the package.
There were the projects she’d completed; the trips they’d taken; the book she’d finished; and the new goals lined out.
In this rare quiet moment, she had the space and time to take stock of, and enjoy her accomplishments. Instead of fretting about what needed to be done, she thought of the tasks and projects she’d managed to complete.
She allowed herself to be proud of those completed projects.
She had set her own goals and standards, and proved that she could meet them.
She could feel the momentum that comes from making changes and completing projects.
There was more to be done.
There would be more to be thankful for.
And then she heard their footsteps on the front porch.
The door burst open, letting in two kids and a flurry of leaves.
“What’s that smell? Mmmm…. Will you make me one?”
__________
Grilled Ham, Cheese and Tomato
- Italian Bread
- Deli Honey Ham – thinly sliced
- Monterey Jack Cheese – thick slices
- Tomato – from the garden, if you are lucky
- Balsamic Vinegar
- Basil-infused Olive Oil – Extra Virgin Olive Oil will do nicely
- Italian Seasoning – or Oregano
- Butter
Layer ham, cheese and tomatoes between slices of bread. Butter the top and place buttered side down in a cast iron skillet that has warmed on medium heat. Toast slowly to melt the cheese and warm the tomatoes. Butter top before flipping.
Once the sandwich is toasted, remove from heat and separate. Lightly drizzle the olive oil and balsamic over the tomatoes, letting some soak into the bread. Sprinkle with seasoning.
Take bites of sandwich and sips of wine while picturing all the things you are grateful for.
20
Oct 11
Selective Ignorance
Who am I to question the wise words of Maya Angelou? Continue reading →
16
Oct 11
Ignorance is Bliss
Children’s talent to endure stems from their ignorance of alternatives.
- Maya Angelou
14
Oct 11
A Different Version of Normal
At his address, the toys are neatly put away, the art supplies stay tucked in the cupboard and the towels are folded the minute the dryer buzzes. Continue reading →
10
Oct 11
Why Did I Marry A Narcissist?
As I reached the top of the hill, she approached from the other side.
“Hey, you!” Even though I knew she walked in my neighborhood, we’d never run into each other before.
She said, “Hey, yourself! I never walk this time of the day.”
I said, “I usually try to walk in the morning, but the day got away from me.”
She said, “I didn’t walk this morning because I finished your book.”
*Gulp!*
(Later, when telling a mutual friend of that afternoon’s chance encounter he said, “I suppose you both saw significance in running into each other at the top of the hill.” I laughed and said, “Well, of course we did!”
__________
She is an acquaintance and a published author.
While I wholeheartedly subscribe to the idea that we ought not write to please mom, or a partner or whoever we are trying to please at the time, there is something unsettling about having an author read my first book.
I wanted to plug my ears at this point, or at least run back down the hill to avoid hearing what she had to say.
Before I could turn to run she said, “I loved the format! The quotes and pictures round out the whole message. How is it selling?”
*Gulp.*
Then she said, “Your message will find the right people. You explored the healthy side of selfishness – about how many of our difficulties can be linked to our not taking care of self – putting ourselves last. You showed how that balance is necessary. There’s a lot written about that right now. It’s a good time for your voice on that subject.”
We spontaneously hugged as a I breathed a sigh of relief and thanked her profusely.
__________
As I walked her back to her house, she said, “You know why you ended up with him, don’t you?”
Because I was still riding the high of her kind words – and admittedly not listening - I said, “Huh? Who?”
She said, “The narcissist. Do you know why you ended up with the narcissist?”
My usual answer to this question is, “I ended up with Mark so that my life would be graced by the presence of Will and Jenny.”
What other sane reason could there be?
This time I didn’t offer that explanation. I said, “Why do you think I married a narcissist?”
She said, “Because you needed to learn self-care.”
