Does he monopolize the conversation? Does he fail to ask of my life?
Does he care more about his looks than I care about mine? Do I get to be the pretty one in this relationship?
Does he treat Jen and Will like they are a nuisance?
Does he have friends? Does he get along with his family? How does he talk about his kids? How does he treat a waitress or the clerk at the grocery?
Does he act entitled? Does he lack empathy? Continue reading →
Take:
Mix together without criticism, judgment, hovering or micro-managing on the part of adults.
Judiciously add laughter, warm-hearted teasing, big smiles and ice cubes for fingers that get in a tangle with the glue gun.
Include dollops of encouragement and one chunk of unscheduled time.
Result: A kid who finds positive energy and self-confidence when expressing herself through her own creativity. (She’ll make happy memories with her uncle, too.)
Stop for a minute and look around you.
Let your eyes fall on something you would normally ignore.
Focus on the negative space that surrounds a Starbucks go cup. Notice the way the arm of a chair curves to meet the seat. Appreciate the pressed corners of the collar on a charcoal grey wool coat.
See the color of the cement when it’s wet. Try to think of the name of the color of a curled leaf. Is it amber? Is it burnt umber?
You could make a conscious choice to give up on pursuing your dreams, your goals and your passions.
You could end relationships with best friends from college, family members and the women in your book club.
You could always eat at her favorite restaurant, wear your hair the way he likes, decorate your house to please her, cook only his favorite meals, and forget that you ever had preferences of your own.
You could have conversations where you do all the listening and never get to speak of what is on your mind or in your heart.
Change feels like the steady slow creep to the crest of the roller coaster hill, the brief pause before the crazy descent and the exhilaration that comes from having the guts to go, without the throwing up after.
Change feels like the warmth coming from the wood stove after splitting and stacking the wood and cleaning the chimney – the warmth that comes from self-sufficiency and independence.
Change feels like that pair of jeans that fits your figure and makes you feel good about yourself, even if there are parts of you that you’d just as soon forget about.
Change feels like the time you had the courage to raise your hand because you knew the answer, having been called on, and being right.
Change feels like knowing something – down to your bones: the directions to your brother’s house in a city you visit once a year; the memorized recipe for brownies you make from scratch when that craving for chocolaty decadence takes over; the friend you can call at whatever hour because you both are always there for each other. Continue reading →
When one door closes, another opens;
The third anniversary of this blog quietly came and went.
__________
I harvested pales of fresh raspberries and discussed freezer jam recipes.
I collected rocks with Jen and counted the different types of butterflies that landed on the wildflowers beside the cabin. We lost track of the count when we spied two frogs in a rain puddle.
I took pictures of a grinning Will and the trout he was catching. Continue reading →
This isn’t a bullet-point list of the ten proven steps you can take – tonight – to please your narcissist.
This isn’t the CliffsNotes Guide to convincing your counselor of your spouse’s NPD.
This isn’t the ultimate guide to finding an attorney who believes you when you try to convince her that your spouse’s charm is a ruse, and that he’ll take you to the cleaners, and trample his own kids on the way to the bank.
This isn’t the long-awaited recipe for a homeopathic remedy that you slip into your wife’s coffee in the morning in hopes she’ll come home, wrap you in her arms, apologize for treating you poorly, and promise to make you the priority you deserve to be.
This isn’t the iPhone app that supplies the snarky comebacks you wish you were quick enough to come up with to say to the narcissist in the next cubicle. Continue reading →
It was her job to load the splitter, catch the split logs and pass them to the stacker. They developed a rhythm as they worked, stopping only to drink water or wipe sweaty brows. They enjoyed a sense of accomplishment, congratulating each other as the stack grew. The hard work earned them the beers they would enjoy on the deck that afternoon.
Logs with knots were tricky for the splitter. She’d learned that when a log doesn’t split all the way because of a knot, she could lift the log over her head and slam it down on the ground with all her might. The force would split the log in two.
Sometimes.
That trick didn’t always work.
Some logs were tougher than others. Continue reading →
When you no longer notice the beauty in the things you possess, and shop for new, “more beautiful” objects.
When politely ignoring a situation doesn’t make it go away.
When you’re so over-scheduled that you can hardly wait to go to bed.
When you hate getting out of bed in the morning.
Grab a pen. We’re going to plan a party.
Really.
This’ll be fun.
What if you planned your life like you would plan the ultimate party?
Wait…. don’t tell me you hate planning parties. That’s probably because you think that you have to invite certain people, serve particular foods and drinks, provide a sparkling evening that will please everyone and clean up the mess when it’s over. Continue reading →
