My mom tells the story like this:
You were in 5th or 6th grade and I’d just gotten home from work. I was putting dinner together and asked, “How was your day, honey?”
“It was okay.”
“How was recess?”
“Recess was crazy. All the kids were chasing each other and running all over the playground.” Continue reading →
We are mostly unpacked. We’ve unpacked enough so that I’ve created a little altar in the walk-in closet. I know! I have a walk-in closet! I’ve never before had such a decadent thing. In lieu of running out and shopping for clothes to fill all the empty hangers, I inadvertently decided to turn part of the closet into an altar.
(When I first saw the walk-in closet, I gasped and told him that I didn’t have enough clothes to fill it. He said, “That’s okay. This might just become your hiding place when you need to get a break from the rest of us.” I shook my head and innocently said, “Whatever do you mean?”)
An altar wasn’t my plan. I didn’t do a Google search for altars. I’m not sending up offerings to the Gods and Goddesses hoping for good vibes to rain down on our new chapter, although I wouldn’t mind if they sent a little good juju our way. It just happened, as all good things often do.
I was unpacking and finding homes for things. This new chapter seems to require different arrangements of pictures and rocks and shells and feathers and momentos that have been gathered in this new chapter. But I am not ready to part with all the sweet keepsakes from the closed chapters.
I’ve also been looking for what may turn out to be my comfort zone in this new home. I’m getting close. The house is starting to smell more like us – Thieves essential oil, dark roast coffee, laundry soap, Italian Seasoning and a bit of garlic. Some of our artwork is up on the walls. The kitchen shows a lot of our favorite tools. There is plenty of room to spread out our craft projects and make messes. And yet, I’m still looking for that spot where I can take a deep breath, sit for a minute and try to remember what’s important versus what it is I’m currently stewing about. Continue reading →
“I want a house with a view.”
“Yeah, a view is a great thing.” The bartender dried a rocks glass and placed it on the shelf. “Tell me, how does a house with a view improve your life?”
“I dunno about other folks, but I’ve got a friend who has a nice place on a hill, and every time I go there, I’m energized.”
“What energizes you? The view? The height above everyone else? The size of the place or his giant TV?”
He picks up the beer bottle in front of him and sets it back down before taking a drink, “I’m not sure. It’s not a fancy place. Sure the view is amazing, but it’s something else. I can’t put my finger on it.” Continue reading →
They can say what they want, but they aren’t me.
They can say, “Maybe you spend too much time with your kids.” They might say, “Maybe you need breaks from being a mom.” They have said, “You need to get out more.”
I smile and say, “Maybe.” I laugh and say, “Probably.” And what I’m thinking is, “It’s not my kids I need breaks from. I don’t need a break from being their mom, I need a break from being what others expect.” What I want to say is, “No! I need to stay in more!”
I smile, because I know where our center is. I know where the calm is. I know how to get the harmony back.
It was cold that morning at 6:30. I turned on the kitchen light to make coffee and the thermometer told me it was -7. The fire had gone out. By the time Will shuffled out into the living room, the sun was turning the snow into shaved sparkles. He thought we ought to go out and take pictures. I told him I’d go out when it warmed to 5 above.
A bowl of oatmeal and five layers of clothes later, we grabbed our cameras and opened the front door to a blast of frozen air. There’s an indescribable quiet that comes with snow fall. Maybe that’s what makes winter bearable for this INFJ. The only sounds were coming from our boots as they made new crunching tracks in the fluff, and the honks of the Canadian Geese as they flew low over the Missouri.
Jen had received a new computer from the frozen UPS lady the night before. Even though she’d normally be the first out in the freeze to take pictures, she opted to stay behind and get acquainted with Speedy – the name she’d given her new Toshiba.
Will and I immediately set out on different paths. We’d each snap a couple photos, exclaim to the other about the view, and then cross each other’s path to take a photo of what the other had witnessed. Later, when we viewed our shots, I was surprised to see how similar our perspectives were. I’m sure it won’t be that way for long.
I’ve noticed that as each year passes, it takes me a few more days to get acclimated to the arrival of the cold. The first week or so finds me standing next to the wood stove, kvetching over too many cups of coffee. Then the day will come when I drag my butt outside, breathe the cold, take a few pictures and wonder how anyone could happily live without four seasons. And, yes, I’ve been known to bitch at the slow arrival of spring, when I’m sure I’ll die if I have to shovel the walks one more time. At least the seasons give me something to complain about, besides narcissism. ;) Continue reading →
I hadn’t set the alarm. There’s no need for an alarm for the important stuff.
With a cranberry red throw draped around my shoulders, I unlocked the front door. Nina comes quick whenever she hears the locks on the door. She didn’t look up at me for permission before darting out. I walked to the corner of the yard and saw the beginnings of the eclipse.
Should I wake them?
I tip-toed into Will’s room and whispered, “Will, the eclipse has started.” Continue reading →
A typical day finds me juggling agendas:
Will’s involving all things golf with segues into fly fishing or spincasting or minnow catching (aren’t they all the same thing?) and begrudgingly mowing a few lawns to keep him in golf balls. (Did I mention I’m glad we’re done with fireworks season?)
Jen’s involving ways to gut a stuffed animal, fill it with tubing so as to mimic the digestive process of a ‘real’ dog (without the mess), trips to the craft store and coconut oil treatments on blisters created by spins on the horizontal bar that now graces the back yard.
Mine involves tending a belligerent garden, stopping up water leaks, pretending to write on a third book, finding new things to grill on the Weber and repeatedly washing the same three golf shirts.
Forty years later, we’ll step off that hamster wheel and wonder if it’s worth it. We’ll turn to our kids and start to say, “Hey, I dunno if this is such a good idea.”
They won’t hear us over the din of their own spinning wheels.
Aren’t you lucky? You have an INFJ in your life. That means that while you’ll never completely understand what makes her tick, you’ll never be bored, and you’ll always know that she highly values the relationship she has with you.
Let’s try to make the holidays easier for you and for her.
This one is easy – invite her to parties. Your invitation might sound like this, “Hey, I’ve got this party thing and I’d love for you to go, but I know you’d rather die, so I’m inviting you with the understanding that you like the invite, but you have no intention of going, and I’m cool with that.” Continue reading →
Easy, Jesse. What’s your hurry? You’ll get it all done, and if you don’t, there’s an awfully good chance that it doesn’t need to be done.
There are no commendations for being the fastest laundry folder or having the cleanest kitchen floor.
You’ll get the emails sent, the books formatted and the bills paid in due time.
Make eye contact with them when they ask, “What’s for lunch?” If they want you to jump off the shed roof into the leaf pile, do it. Show her how to read a pattern and then turn her loose. So what if he wants to learn every detail about waxing skis. It doesn’t hurt you to pretend to care.
Have tea with your aunt.
Go to lunch with a girlfriend.
Stay up too late watching a movie.
Eat buttery noodles in a snowdrift of Parmesan and forget about protein for a change.
Don’t worry about keeping up with everything. Not everything needs to be kept up with.
There is grace in taking it slower.
Easy, Jesse.
This morning I received these words from the Universe
in the form of a frazzled voice that sounded a lot like my own.
“Mom, what colors do you pick?”
“Um…. how about red, purple and turquoise.”
“Oh, that’ll be pretty. I’ll see if I can layer the beads in this little jar.” She makes a teensy funnel out of a scrap of paper.
“Okay! The beads are in, and they stayed in separate layers! Look! What do you want the label to say?”
“Well…. I’m not sure. How about, “Faith, Hope, Love.”
“I like that. I’ll have to write real tiny.” She cuts a thin strip of paper, just long enough for three words.
“Oh, Jenny! It’s beautiful! Thank you.”
As she sorts beads for the next jar she asks, “Where are you going to put it?”
“How about in a window where it can catch the sun?”
I’m on my way to a dentist appointment. I’m wearing a cotton skirt, sandals, a faded denim blouse and a smile. I can’t remember the last time I wore nylons or had a manicure. I’m thinking about how much more garden I have to turn up before we get to start planting. I make a mental note to stop at the hardware store after the dentist. I’ll get washers to fix the hose, check out the bedding plants and grab a bag of briquettes. It’s warm enough for burgers on the grill tonight. The sun tea should be ready in time for dinner.
The elevator doors close and a woman in a tailored business suit turns, looks me up and down and says, “So what do you do?”
“Hi.
Um.
Well…
I guide two outstanding young people through the minefield of dealing with a narcissistic parent. I homeschool, practice living on a budget, and work from home. I wrote a couple motivational books for those in difficult relationships, and I’m working on a novel. I blog about narcissism to shed light on NPD (Narcissistic Personality Disorder). Through stories and pictures, I show how good life can be when brave steps are taken to leave an abusive relationship. Creativity, humor and harmony are on my list of priorities, right after my kids, reading and sleep. I drink too much coffee and try not to take myself too seriously.
Thanks for asking.
What do you do?”
The doors opened. As she stepped one heel out of the elevator, she looked over her shoulder and said, “Are you hiring?”
“What I’d like to know is how old does a person have to be“One of you grab the iPad and look up stele. Check out the images.”
“Can we read another chapter? Please?”
“You’ve gotta get on your list if you wanna have time to hang with your BFF. Same for you, Will, if you want to make a tee time.”
“Can drawing a stele be on my list today?”
“After worksheets are done, you can draw.” Continue reading →
Meet me on the hill – the one where
we used to start at the top and race to the bottom.
Remember how we’d pick the sunniest day
and wait until after lunch
when the grass had sunned enough to be warm.
We’d start at the base of the biggest tree,
lay on our sides,
stretch our lean bodies and scream as we rolled,
mowing over dandelions and Johnny Jump Ups.
We’d make crooked zigzags all the way down,
and for the length of the ride,
the world turned into a blur of puffy clouds and green grass.
We’d reach the bottom,
gasping and laughing.
We wouldn’t even brush off our knees
before we started back up again,
pumping skinny arms and legs to reach the top. Continue reading →
I’d swear my body was in the chair next to the fire. I could see the cat curled under the wood stove. Will was wearing a head lamp, while sitting in the rocking chair. Jen was camped in her favorite corner. They were both quietly reading.
I was reading a myth from Women Who Run With the Wolves, and I lost track of time and place. I was completely immersed in the story, focused on the words on the page. I finished a chapter, looked up from the book and glanced around to see what I had missed.
They didn’t notice. Apparently, it’s easier for kids to get lost in books. I’d forgotten what that was like.
I didn’t think about having to feed the wood stove or break up a fight between kids. The television wasn’t blaring, the dishes were done. There was no other place to take my mind to.
It was delicious. Continue reading →
