“Hey Jesse, I heard you have a new zip code. Whatcha doin’ in here?”
“How are ya, Hank? Yes, we do have a new zip code. It’s only about 90 minutes away. I’m in town to get the house ready to rent out.”
“Wow. Big changes afoot for all of you. How are you doing with it all? And your kids? I saw them the other day at that frozen yogurt place. They appear to be happy and thriving and growing. What can I get you?”
“Do you still have Bayern Amber on tap?”
“Comin’ right up!” Continue reading →
You probably have an HSP in your life. There are a lot of us out there.
If you’re reading this, you are most likely a Highly Sensitive Person.
Many, however, who are probably not HSP, read the title of this post, rolled their eyes and opted to read something else. They are tired of hearing about us. They can’t relate. They aren’t wired to relate. They’ve come to believe that HSPs are an inconvenience or that we are high-maintenance. We’re too sensitive, take everything personally, and get overwhelmed easily. They may not realize that they have HSPs in their lives who serve very important roles.
HSPs are the folks you turn to when you need real human contact. Continue reading →
The well-versed child of a narcissist knows never to get his hopes up. He grows up believing that it’s better never to count on people.
If he trusts at all, he’ll only trust a handful of folks. Often he’ll choose to trust only a few close friends instead of relations.
The well-versed child of a narcissist develops a wicked sense of humor. She’s been laughing at dysfunction since she was old enough to understand it.
She’s able to see what makes people tick. She knows who to stay away from, and who to develop relationships with, believing that her energy ought to be saved for a select group. She won’t have a lot of friends. She doesn’t want to risk being vulnerable. But for those in her inner circle, she’ll give her whole heart. Continue reading →
She grew up watching her mom sweep everything under the rug. Her mom grew up watching her mom sweep everything under the rug. It was what they did. Their hurts, disappointments, frustrations and expectations all went under the rug.
In the beginning, only the big stuff made it under the rug – the aunt’s DUI, the brother’s marital transgressions, the grandfather’s financial mess. (There were some things under the rug that are too big to mention here – like the time her husband back-handed her.) But, as time went on, she found it easier to sweep even the little things under the rug. Disappointments fit under there nicely, thereby preventing an inevitable argument if she dared to mention those disappointments.
When the kids were younger, it wasn’t an issue. They didn’t notice her lifting the corner of the rug several times a week, and if they did, they thought it was normal. The difficulty came when the kids got old enough to notice. They couldn’t help but trip over the heap under the rug. They’d hear dad’s harsh words, see mom grab the broom, and they just knew she’d reach for the corner of the rug.
Recently she’d come home with a new, much larger rug to accommodate the pile. She moved the old rug to her daughter’s room. The colors in the rug worked well with the colors in her daughter’s duvet. That’s how she would justify the purchase of the larger rug.
She never took the time to explain to the kids why she hid things. Better to leave it alone than open up that can of worms and have to deal with all the issues heaped under the rug. The kids got to the point where they pretended not to notice. They’d look the other way when mom reached for the broom. Continue reading →
We are paddling like crazy and keeping our heads above water.
Barely.
We’ve been paddling through some expected stuff; and we’ve held our breath and maneuvered some unexpected stuff. The water has been pretty choppy lately.
To be fair, there have been some calm pools that allow us to float on our backs, feel the warmth of the sun, and catch our breath. The bitter and the sweet must be what they mean by balance?
When it comes to homeschool… ha! There are no better lessons than the ones that have been handed down lately. 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 →
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 →
He entered and the energy changed.
He quickly surveyed the other people in the room. She sensed that he was measuring himself against the others to make sure he was the tallest, the best dressed and the one in control. When offered a glass of wine, he thanked the hostess in a way that was over-the-top. It’s just a glass of wine. Why the show of being so gracious?
The conversation began with a few sputters. One brought up the weather. Another tried to mention the upcoming holidays or the busyness down at the school. It wasn’t until he brought up a subject that the conversation took off, except it was more of a lecture, or a lesson, or a monologue of his observations. He shared his philosophy about how the school might be run better, even though he had no experience running a school. He gave us his take on the best way to raise children, even though he rarely saw his older children. (She wondered if they’d had enough of him when they were growing up, and they’d moved far away for a reason.)
If another tried to interject, he’d politely correct them. “Oh, I understand you feel that way, but what I’ve learned is that it’s this way.” If another tried to switch the topic, he’d hijack the new topic and bring it back around to himself, his experiences, and his vast amount of knowledge.
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 →
Do as I say, not as I do.
I tell them to examine how they feel when they are with someone. If the energy feels good, pursue that relationship. If you feel icky or drained, re-think whether you want to spend time with that person.
They see me foster relationships that leave me depleted.
