wow.
wow.
Things have changed a lot in five years. We not only survive, but we thrive on a mostly daily basis. The health of my kids (and myself!) is testament to the power of connection, the awesomeness of being heard, the cathartic healing found in knowledge and the magic of friendship. Continue reading →
“Will they think I’m weird if I’m repelling off the play structure?”
“Who?”
“The neighbors.”
“They already think we’re weird.”
The three of us were walking across the park to the play structure. Jenny was carrying a climbing rope and harness. She’d come up with a new game – strategically place 10 bind weed blossoms and try to retrieve them without letting her feet touch the ground. In some cases, she needed to repel down and pick up the blossoms because she couldn’t access them from the structure any other way.
Will came along to watch. “Why do you care what the neighbors think?”
Jenny climbed the stairs of the play structure. “I don’t. Really. Well… I dunno. Is this weird?”
It was my job to gather the pink blossoms and place them around the structure. We had the whole park to ourselves. The sun was high and hot. I was wondering how long this was going to take. “If it’s fun, does it matter if it’s weird? Well, not too weird, I mean.” I found two more blossoms, “I hate wearing flips* to the park. Too many pokeys.”
Will laughed as he tried to fit his long legs and arms into the only bit of shade. “People aren’t really paying attention to what you are doing anyway. They’re mostly thinking about how they look and what they are doing.”
I looked up from hiding the last blossom. “That’s right. Where’d you hear that?”
“You told me that.”
I squeezed into the shade next to Will, “And you listened?”
*A million years ago, I lived in Redondo Beach for a couple months. I was asked to show my ID at a shop. When the cashier saw I was from Montana, he looked down at my feet and said, “Wow! They wear thongs (I told you it was a long time ago) in Montana?”
Guest Post by AnonymousIt ended with a coat…
An argument between my 12 year old son and my husband ended my 20 year marriage – all over a coat.
It was the Friday after Thanksgiving. We had spent the better part of three days at our niece’s house, as I was helping her host her first Thanksgiving – for 20 people, no less. We returned home Friday afternoon after a two-hour drive. I just wanted some quiet time so begged off from a housewarming party we were invited to attend. Husband and son were preparing to go without me when a fight broke out between them over son taking a coat which husband deemed appropriate for the weather, one which son hated and refused to consider. The fight escalated into an ugly scene – son locked husband out of house after being chased around the yard by him, in the dark. Continue reading →
If you’ve spent any time in these parts, you know how I feel about making beds, but this morning I had an “epipha-me“.
I was thinking about choices, plans, wrong turns, course corrections and new directions.
There’s an idiom that goes like this:
You made your bed, now lie in it.My INFJness had my wheels spinning on that one. Mostly I was thinking about the individual who penned that classic phrase. How stuck was she, or I suppose it could have been a he? How dismal to go through life thinking, “This is it. This is where I am. This is what I planned for. I’m here. Better stick with it.”
How many decide that since they invested so much time in this relationship, or spent so much money on that degree, that they can’t make a choice to do something else? Even if they aren’t happy in that relationship or with the job that degree landed them, they stick with their choices.
I wish I could have told the person who wrote that idiom,
“If you can make one bed, you can make another.
It’s okay.
Really.
Make a new bed.”
Six months on the other side of divorce, this Thriver has fought the good fight, and now she’s ready to see what’s next. She’s optimistic about whatever the future may hold. She knows it’s going to be tough to go it alone again, especially while raising a child, but she’s open to possibility and the opportunity to try again.
Maybe… maybe a new beginning.
He’s a teenager.
We used to read each other’s mind. I’d leave him in the living room with a stack of blocks and head to the kitchen to get him a snack. He didn’t know that I was on my way to open the fridge, but he’d yell, “Bwuebewwies, pwease!”
And that’s how it was for years.
It did happen the other day in the car. We heard a song on the radio and we simultaneously referenced a video we’d seen about an amazing guy who turned a carrot into a flute or saxophone – some orange wind instrument. Anyway, on occasion, Will and I are actually on the same page.
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.
“I’ll have a Jack and Coke. Hold the Coke.”
“Was the long weekend tough on ya? How was the lake?” The bartender reached for a rocks glass, filled it with ice and poured a steady stream of amber-colored attitude adjustment.
“The lake was fine.” He reached for the glass and took a long sip. “I married my mom.”
“You what!? This weekend? You did what?” The bartender paused, bar rag in hand, waiting for an explanation.
“No. Not like that.” He took another sip. “No, I meant that the woman I married is exactly like my mom.” Continue reading →
Whew! Mercury goes direct today.
For those of you who don’t believe in such things, I’m here to tell you that it would be good to prepare yourself before the next Mercury in Retrograde.
My track record is spotty with surviving retrograde. This is the first with Will having his driver’s license. I held my breath for three weeks and we skated through without incident. We did have transportation issues when it came to who had the keys. That’s probably more a function of two drivers in a family with only one car. Can’t blame that one on Mercury.
Will did have a ton of computer issues with his brand new laptop. He seems to think it’s getting better. We shall see. Will might be the first to tell you that those transportation issues also apply to rafts on creeks. (Not letting him on a raft in a Retrograde. Ever again.)
Jenny kept her head down, but was quite distressed by some communication issues with her dad – more so than she has been in the recent past. She blamed that on Mercury and her dad. Continue reading →
It seems I’ve entered my Nanny McPhee Period when grey hairs corkscrew from the top of my head and adult onset acne gets comfortable and refuses to leave. I know this isn’t a beauty blog, but I’ve discovered a couple products that have made this phase slightly less Nanny McPhee-like, and it wouldn’t be right not to share.
I haven’t the bravery to Google – “How Long Will I Keep Getting Periods” – because if there’s a woman out there who is still getting periods well into her senior years, I don’t want to know about her. I don’t want to know that I could be that empty-nest woman, in her 60s (because I will be close to 60 by the time Jen leaves, if she decides to do so), traveling to Italy, sipping red wine at a lovely cafe and having to excuse herself from the intelligent conversation at the quaint bistro table for two because she’s having a “period” emergency.
I can handle many things, but I’m not sure I want to know how long I’ll have to deal with periods. No, I won’t be doing hormone replacement therapy. I’m the anti-chemical, left-over hippy, who doesn’t put anything on her lawn, doesn’t own a microwave, and has never colored her hair. I will not be taking some sort of chemical supplement to help me through this phase, even if that would keep my kids from wanting to kill me or move into their dad’s house once a month. (Come to think of it, my mood swings are sure to bring about that empty nest.)
Primrose Oil has kept my kids from packing their bags. I don’t know why it works. I don’t care. It keeps me from wanting to slash the neighbor’s tires when he leaves his car running while he’s in his house obviously looking for his car keys. Primrose oil keeps me from hiding under the covers until my period passes. I love this stuff. If I’m telling you about it, that means it works. Continue reading →
You might be laughing at the title of this post. You might be thinking, “Ha! Like a narcissist ever tries. Never is more like it!”
Oh, but they do try. They try to get along when their source has dried up. When they are craving narcissistic supply, they will pull out all the stops to try to get attention from you. This is what it looks like:
The family had split into separate canoes some time ago. Initially, the paddling was difficult. The water was choppy and the canoe carrying the mother and the two children took on water more times than not. The father was in a canoe by himself. He didn’t seem to mind the rough waters. Truth be told, he seemed to prefer making waves and watching the other three struggle to keep their canoe afloat.
In time, the three found their rhythm. They paddled in sync and enjoyed the view. It wasn’t always smooth sailing, but they became adept at riding out the storms. They’d hunker down, breathe through the rapids, remember not to hang on too tightly (because that makes the ride more tense), and make each other laugh.
More recently, when his canoe approached, he’d be paddling more gently. She dared to believe that he might not want to rock their boat anymore. A couple sunny days found the canoes gliding side by side as the four exchanged stories of golf, fishing, and fairy gardens.
One afternoon, both canoes were beached as the four discussed a possible journey to be taken by the father and the two children. The mother was included, and they all smiled through the conversation. The talking was easy. Each opinion was heard. The children were asked to think about the proposed adventure and let the father know, the next day, if they planned to go with him. Continue reading →
“Margaret, do you think today’s narcissistic culture has lost sight of the Golden Rule?”
Margaret wiped her hands on her pressed apron. “I’m not sure I know what you mean, dear? Please explain.”
Gladys hopped down from her perch on a headstone and dusted off the back of her skirt. “Well, the original meaning of the Golden Rule had something to do with empathizing with our neighbor. We were encouraged to walk in their shoes, so to speak, and treat them with consideration. In today’s culture, it appears that the original meaning has been tailored a bit. Now it’s more like, ‘Be nice to your neighbor, as long as they are like you, and treat them the way you’d like to be treated, with no regard to how they want to be treated.'”
“Perhaps an example would help me understand? I’m not sure I see what you mean.”
“I’ll try. As it is now, they judge their neighbor based on how they dress, their car, their house and the school their kids go to. If they have those things in common, then they’ll decide it’s safe to be considerate. At the point of deciding their neighbor is worth approaching, they’ll bring the neighbor their favorite pie, regardless of whether their neighbor likes pie.” Continue reading →
“I’ve been doing this a few years. I think you’re the first INFJ result I’ve seen. Of course, most INFJs don’t take Business Management. Why are you in this curriculum?”
“Those career tests from high school indicated my aptitude was in clerical and organization, so I figured this was the curriculum for me.”
“Have you ever considered psychology or sociology or a degree in the creative arts?”
“They say there isn’t any money in that.”
“That may be true, but will you be happy with a degree in Business Management?” Continue reading →
