“Hey, Hank. How are things?”
“Can’t complain, the bar is busy, the weather’s fine. It’s all good. What about you? What’ll ya have?”
“The dark stuff. Thanks.”
Hank filled a pint, stopping just before the foam spilled. He placed the beer in front of Joe. “Last time you were in here, it was Jack on the rocks. Did you figure things out with the woman?”
Joe laughed. “I’m still working on that. In the meantime, I gotta ask you – seeing’s how you’re the expert – about my sister.” Continue reading →
Dear Experts in Childhood Development,
I am divorced from my children’s father. You’ve told me over and over again that I’m not supposed to bad-mouth their father – especially to my kids. You have told me that if I do so, I’m also hurting my kids.
You also give me advice on how to handle bullies. I’ve learned that we are supposed to have open discussions at home about bullies and bullying behavior. You’ve said that in order to prevent bullying, we have to talk about it and call it what it is. You tell me that these conversations must happen in order to make the world a safer place for kids.
My kids’ dad is a bully – he’s a narcissistic bully – and yet you tell me I can’t call him any names.
I’m confused.
You encourage me to call the bullying kid on the playground a bully, but I’m not supposed to call their dad a disparaging name. Isn’t that a contradiction? Isn’t that creating more confusion around the whole issue of bullying. Continue reading →
Becoming a parent changes you. There is no way to know who you will be as a parent, until you become a parent. Your partner changes, too, in many unexpected ways.
It is dangerous to make assumptions based on love and affection. Even so, she made plenty of assumptions that would prove to be her undoing.
She had assumed that her partner would make parenting a priority. Even if he had avoided playing an active role in the pregnancy, he’d have to make parenting a priority. Wouldn’t he? How could she marry someone who wouldn’t make parenting a priority? She figured that was a given, so she didn’t have those important conversations beforehand. She didn’t ask, “Will you juggle your time to make kids a priority? Will you cut back on recreation to help out, knowing that it won’t be long before we can all go as a family? Will you delegate at work so as to create more time for home? Will we parent as a team? Will you change diapers? Are you okay with breastfeeding? Do you refer to it as ‘babysitting’ when you have the kids with you?”
She avoided those conversations – maybe because she knew the answers and didn’t want to admit it. INFJs avoid conflict. Continue reading →
You’ve been gaslighted if you feel backed into a corner and told you are “too sensitive” for your own good.
If you second-guess your thoughts, re-read your sent email file and wonder if you ought to try to be kinder …
If the mere thought of seeing that person gives you an upset stomach …
If you normally sleep well, but lately you wake in the middle of the night to re-visit conversations, wondering how you could have been so misinterpreted … Continue reading →
“I was watching your eye contact as you visited. That was weird. Your eyes were tearing up when he was talking to you, but it was a friendly conversation. What was that about?”
Jen wiped her eyes. “I can’t look at him without my eyes watering. It’s uncomfortable – not like I’m gonna cry, but more like my eyes hurt. So I pretend like I’ve got an eyelash in my eye and I keep rubbing them. It’s just really uncomfortable to keep my eyes on him for very long when he’s talking – or any time.”
I turned to Will, “What do you think?”
Will shook his head, “I feel the same way. It’s hard to look at him for long. Oh, and I feel myself getting anxious when I try to tell him something. Like I’m afraid he’ll criticize what I say, so I say it fast so I can get it over with, and then I sound like I’m slurring my words.”
I said, “Yeah, and then you open yourself up for more criticism.” Continue reading →
Those dear souls flock to your door. They can’t help it. You draw them in with your counselor/helper/listener magnet. (Think moth to flame.) You’ve probably tried leaving the magnet on the dresser, or stashing it on the top shelf of the closet, thinking that if you hide the magnet, you won’t ooze that helper vibe. That helper vibe clings to you the way hurting souls cling to an HSP.
That’s our lot. We listen. We counsel. We comfort. We care. That’s who we are, even if/when we pretend we aren’t.
And so you open your door, pour the wine, stoke the fire and fluff the pillows. Their shoulders relax, the furrows in their brow release and the flood gates open. And you sip wine and listen. You refill their glass and listen some more. You offer them sustenance or a hug and most certainly a tissue. You do this automatically. You’ve done it all your life. You don’t have to remember how to be compassionate. You don’t have to refer to your cheat sheet on how to be kind and caring. This treatment defines your character and drives your actions. It flows from you the way their story flows through those flood gates.
When they leave – after they’ve purged and cleansed and lightened their load – you are left holding their big mess in your hands. But more times than not, you’re still holding another person’s mess in your hands. So you end up standing at the door, saying goodbye, juggling 2 or 10 or 100 different messes from souls who came to your door for comfort.
As you close the door, you wonder how you will clean up the wine glasses, re-stock the firewood, and go about your day while still holding the messes from all those hurting souls. Continue reading →
Will thought if we left a little later, the timing would be off and we wouldn’t run into him, but when we pulled into the parking lot, we saw him getting out of his car.
Crap.
In my optimistic, nothing-will-ruin-our-day voice I said, “It’s okay. He knew we were going to be here. He knows we don’t get to do a mid-week escape very often. He hasn’t asked to ski with us. This will all work out. Trust me.”
Will said, “I just wanna ski with you two today. We never get to ski just the three of us.”
I lifted a pair of skis to my shoulder and said, “It’ll work out.” Continue reading →
“How’d you sleep?” I set my coffee down to get up and start her chocolate milk.
“Good. How ’bout you?” She curls up in her corner of the couch and Nina saunters over to take her share of the blanket.
I start heating the milk and then walk into the living room. “Any dreams?”
“No. You?”
“Yeah. I’ll tell ya when Will’s up.” At this point, I walk back into the kitchen. She’s an introvert like I am. I know she needs quiet and time to ease in in the morning. Continue reading →
The pie server made a scraping sound in the hard-packed dirt as she finished carving the words – Stop Looking Back!
“Margaret! What on earth are you doing? You’ll ruin your pie server.” Gladys stood with her hands on her hips as she read the words. “Stop looking back? What’s that about?”
“Don’t interrupt me, dear. I’ve got work to do.”
“But you’ll scare the bejeesus out of them. What will they think when they see these cryptic words next to tombstones?”
“Well, they ought to have the bejeesus scared out of them. They’re all wasting too much time looking back.” Margaret stood up from a crouch and walked a ways to a new spot. She bent to scrape again. “See that one over there?” She pointed to a woman in a business suit. “She’s looking back over her career and wondering where she should have taken a different turn.” Margaret nods her head in a different direction, “That man is looking back at how he lost his family because of his focus on his business. And the gal in the dark glasses keeps looking back at what she used to look like, making comparisons to her current self. What a waste of time!” Continue reading →
“So mom… you know that movie we watched the other night – the one where the gal worked for that mean lady, and she was miserable, but she stayed working for her for three years?”
“I know which movie you mean.”
She mopped the last bite of pancake through the maple syrup. “Well, you can’t really complain if you’ve only invested a year. And if you’ve toughed it out for like three years, that seems the time to make a choice.”
“Yeah? Not sure where you’re going with this, but I’m listening.”
“But if you stick it out for 16 years, complaining all the way and continuing to be miserable, isn’t it your own fault for staying. At that point, do you have any right to complain about that jerky woman you’re working for?”
“I see what you mean. And as long as you remember that that also applies to relationships, you’ll have it all figured out.” I laughed, “It sounds like my work is done here.”
“I knew you were gonna say that!”
Thank you for reading here. I wish you quiet sparkles, warm hugs from those you love the most, peace by a fire with a good book in your lap, and an optimistic feeling about the new year.
Be well, friends, and Merry Christmas!
This wasn’t the plan – to be a single mom in my 50s, raising kids by myself.
I had planned to be happily married at this point. I thought we’d all ski together and travel together and watch movies together. I thought he and I would marvel at how brilliant our kids are – together.
I thought we’d laugh at being older-than-the average parents of young kids – together.
I thought we’d reconnect after the kids were gone and spend our retirement years skiing, traveling and watching movies – just the two of us.
“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 →
You might be a narcissist if you don’t know your kids.
You might be a narcissist if you haven’t seen them in their comfort zones, when they talk in silly voices and make each other laugh so hard they almost cry.
You might be a narcissist if you haven’t noticed how they hold their arms close to their sides to guard themselves from your criticisms.
You might be a narcissist if you don’t know how you hurt them when you dismiss them.
She won’t dance in front of you because she knows you’ll make fun of her.
He hasn’t told you about his Instagram account because you’ll tell him how to take pictures.
You only see them when they are perfect reflections of you, but that’s not who they are.
They do have people in their lives who really see them for who they are, but that wouldn’t occur to you.
You don’t even know that you don’t know your kids.
“It’s about him, honey.”
“But I feel sorry for him. He’s all by himself on Thanksgiving. How come he didn’t call us?”
“Well, he made a series of choices that brought him to the point where he’s alone on Thanksgiving. I understand that you feel sorry for him. You’ve got the kindest heart. Don’t let feeling sorry for him make you feel guilty – like there’s something you’re supposed to do about the situation. A good dad calls his kids on Thanksgiving.”
Will chimes in, “You guys know why he didn’t call, don’t ya? He didn’t call because I wouldn’t change my plans on Thanksgiving to do what he wanted me to do.”
“Yes, so now you’re both being punished with the silent treatment.” 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.
