Miss Me More

I have very eclectic tastes in just about everything.  Music is one of those things.  My playlist looks like someone with Multiple Personality Disorder set it up.  My kids are always pleasantly surprised to hear a Drake or Kanye song pop up when they are riding in the car with me.  They aren’t as pleased with the yoga chants and Italian accordion dinner music.  I like some country music, too.  I think country music is especially good at telling a personal story.  Yesterday, the song Miss Me More by Kelsea Ballerini popped up when I was driving.  In the song, the singer laments that she had just broken up with a lover.  She thought that she would really miss him, but what she realizes is that during the relationship she had given up so much of herself, changing to do what she thought would please him, that she actually “missed herself” more, hence the title.  The chorus lyrics are particularly telling:

I thought I’d miss you (when it ended)
I thought it hurt me (but it didn’t)
I thought I’d miss you
I thought I’d miss you

But I miss me more
I miss my own beat, to my own snare drum
I miss me more
Miss my own sheets in the bed I made up
I forgot I had dreams, I forgot I had wings
Forgot who I was before I ever kissed you
Yeah, I thought I’d miss you
But I miss me more (I miss me more)

 

Now, my dear husband is my biggest blog supporter and a daily reader, so I want to make it clear that I am very happy in my relationship with him.  He’s never asked me to change a thing about myself. This is one of the many reasons why I love him so much. The truth is, if we are honest with ourselves, most of the time, people don’t ask us to change ourselves.  But sometimes I think, us women especially, start making subtle changes without even realizing it ourselves.

 

Society is pretty geared towards rewarding women to be pleasers, nurturers and carers.  Now I believe some of this is biological and some of this is just what happens when we start creating our lives and our families.  Both men and women make all sorts of personal sacrifices for our family and career responsibilities.  And we are happy to do these sacrifices, because of the greater good for our families and for society as a whole.  However, sometimes we get in the habit of making unnecessary sacrifices.  We start whittling our lives down to the “necessities” and the “shoulds” and then we reach a burn-out stage and look for someone to blame.  It is painful to understand that the “someone to blame” is often ourselves.

 

Years ago, a friend was telling me that her mother was shaming her for everything my friend expected her husband to do around the house and with the kids.  My friend got frustrated and finally spouted out, “I don’t want to end up being an angry, resentful, victim like so many older women seem to be!!!”  That hit home for me.  It would be unfair for me to feel resentment towards my family, for things I willingly gave and did for them.  Heck, our kids didn’t even ask to be born!  I am willing to bet that most men (not talking about the abusive ones), really ultimately would rather come home to the happy woman he fell in love with, than the one who is seething in resentment but is keeping up “perfect appearances.”  Joan Rivers had a funny line about this.  This is what she said: “Don’t cook. Don’t clean. No man will ever make love to a woman because she waxed the linoleum. “My God, the floor’s immaculate! Lie down, you hot bitch.”

 

I think the song hits a chord by reminding us to give love and self-care to ourselves every bit as much as we give to our children, our partners and our friends.  We tell our children to “be themselves”.  We encourage them to really explore their interests and dive into their talents.  Kids listen to what we do, more than what we say.  It’s the old adage of putting on our own oxygen masks before we can help anyone else.  I remember reading that Jackie Kennedy once said something to the effect that our biggest responsibility to the world is to be happy.  She said that most of the world’s miseries are caused by unhappy people.  Now a lot of times, giving and doing for others feels really good, if we are doing it for the right reasons.   However, if we are giving just to get something in return or giving to the point of martyrdom, then perhaps we really have to check our motives and take our own temperatures.  Our responsibility to ourselves, our loved ones and frankly, to the world, is to nurture ourselves.  We must be kind and loving to ourselves. We must make it a priority to take time to love and grow our own unique characteristics, instead of tucking them away and then blaming someone else for doing what we have actually done to ourselves.  It’s not selfish at all to lovingly care for yourself.  In fact, sometimes it’s the most selfless thing you can do.

Socially Repulsive

First of all, a huge shout out to my awesome daughter, my dear friend and to Taylor Swift!  The concert could not have been more amazing!!  I’m still in awe thinking about everything and all of the energy that was put into that show.  Taylor Swift is a woman who loves her craft and loves her fans and it shows!!  Lifetime memory!!

On that note, I just read an article that Berkeley University recently came out with a study that found that sleep-deprived people are “socially repulsive.”  That doesn’t bode well for me today.  I will be keeping this blogpost “short and sweet.”

Today is a cleansing day for me in the fact that it is Recycle Day.  I don’t know why, but I get great satisfaction out of getting our three overflowing recycle bins emptied every week.  I think it symbolizes starting fresh, starting anew and it feels really, really good, every week.  I mentioned this to a friend of mine, a few Recycle Days ago and she told me that she feels the exact same way about Recycle Day.  It feels so good to connect that way with someone, to feel understood and related to – not alone.  Taylor Swift talked about that last night.  Taylor loves that she can connect with her fans in the way that they relate to her lyrics and thus understand and relate to her feelings.

Which brings me back to the study on sleep deprivation – apparently, exhausted people are more likely to feel lonely, which makes them send out an alienating vibe to other people.  This unfortunately sets up a self-fulfilling prophecy.  I don’t want to send out the wrong signals.  I just want to get some more sleep or at the very least, some more coffee.  Thanks for reading and I’ll catch you tomorrow so that we can connect in a positive sense. 🙂

TS

I’m taking my daughter to the Taylor Swift concert tonight.  She and one of my best friends from college are going together.  We got the idea from two other best friends from college who recently did the same thing in another city.  I’m so excited!

This will be my daughter’s first time at a music concert ever.  I’m so honored and pleased to share that moment with her.  I’ll never forget my first music concert.  It was Olivia Newton John’s Physical concert.  My awesome, hip, glamorous Aunt Beth took my sister and I to it.  She bought us the big fancy concert magazine.  I held on to the magazine for years until it got tattered.  However, the fond memory of being at the concert will last a lifetime.

I don’t know a whole lot about Taylor Swift, but from what I have seen and heard, I like.  She’s obviously extremely talented and a wonderful businesswoman.  From all reports, Taylor puts on a fabulous show for her fans who she seemingly truly appreciates.  She is charitable and classy.  I think what I like best though is that Taylor Swift seems to be so unapologetically herself.   The older I get, the more I appreciate authenticity.  It’s a rare quality.  It seems Taylor Swift is authentic.  Oh, and she’s a Sagittarius and I’m a Sagittarius, so there you have it.  Icing on the cake!

I think this will be a great first concert experience for my daughter.  I think this will be a great memory for all of us.  Mostly though, I hope that my daughter will take this Taylor Swift quote to heart and be true to it the rest of her life:   Just be yourself, there is no one better.

 

Baby Goes to High School

My youngest child, my only daughter started high school today.  She showed the same kind of nervous excitement she had when she started kindergarten and then middle school.  She has always been full of energy and excitement.  When I would drop her off at her elementary school, she would literally skip into the school.  Today her older brother drove her to school.  I doubt that they will be skipping into the doors, but I could tell that there was a kick in her step.

She got up very early.  Her hairstyle was the prettiest of all of the different styles she has been practicing for the last couple of weeks.  Her outfit had been laid out for days.  I wish I could have laid out a magic invisible shield for her to wear, too.  The shield would protect her innocent little girl’s heart from the inevitable growing pains that come along with the high school years.  Hopefully, our love for her will serve as that shield.  That and her protective big brother, the senior who has been through the ropes, will be her strength when her confidence gets clouded from peer pressure and academic stress.

My daughter has to worry about all of the things I did when I was in high school, but nowadays it seems taken up a notch.  Bullying has a whole new realm with so many different social media options.  The academic pressures are ridiculous.  My two older sons graduated from high school with a year’s worth of college credits under their belts and that was the “norm”; nothing outstanding.  And then there is the fear of violence.  My teacher friend just underwent two intense days of school shooter training, required to be taken by everyone in the district, even substitute teachers.  Dating has to be even more confusing in a day and age when exposure to every walk of life is just a click of a button away.  The sports competitions are intense.  I can’t believe how many of my kids’ friends have sustained serious sports related injuries requiring surgeries before they have even graduated from high school.

It is not my nature to be negative, nor is it my daughter’s.  The trick is to balance hope with practicality, I guess.  Today, I try to put a cloak of faith around everyone I care about with an extra prayer that they use the good sense and the intuition that they were blessed with to make wise decisions.  The first day of school for all of us mothers is a day of Let Go and Let God, and also, where is that extra box of tissues?

Normal Days

Normal day, let me be aware

of the treasure you are.

Let me learn from you, love you,

bless you before you depart.

Let me not pass you by in the 

quest of some rare and

perfect tomorrow. – Mary Jean Iron

A couple of my younger girlfriends are sending their first babies to kindergarten tomorrow.   That will be an extraordinary day for all parties involved.  That will be a day that their families will never forget.

Most days don’t fall into the “extraordinary” category, though.  Most days are not particularly fabulous or extremely awful.  That is why we remember those significant days so well.  Big lessons and big blessings roll in on the rare “stand out” days.  Thankfully, most of our days fall into the category of “ordinary” or “normal.” If they didn’t, I think our nervous systems would be shot!

Sundays tend to be calm, relaxing days for me.  I have learned to treasure the “normal” days.  Drama free, schedule free, go with the flow type days are the cornerstones of our lives.  They equip us with a centering that we can lean on and hold on to, when the unusual days of high highs or low lows, take us on a surprising ride full of twists and turns and surprises.  The “normal” days are a gift that is easy to take for granted.  That’s why I appreciate the poet so much to remind me to treasure what is solid, steady and reliable in my life.  This is not just in my days, but in the dependable people I love and rely on, the stores and services and systems that I never worry won’t be available to me, and in the very air that I effortlessly breathe without thinking about it.

I am grateful for normal days.

Sleeping In

I slept in this morning.  It was delicious.  Why do I feel guilty, lazy and un-American for saying that?  I love sleeping in and I love when I have the choice to get up whenever I want to, whenever the urge to get on with the day supersedes the warm, slumbery comfort of my bed.  I love when the room is semi-light and the morning sun is peaking over the dark curtains reminding me that it’s always there for me when I’m ready.  I love giving in to my body and respecting its need for the feeling of complete, deep relaxation after a busy, stressful week.  I love morning dreams.  They are so vivid, close to the surface and easy to remember.  I love my hazy morning thoughts, when they are so slow, I have to question whether I am still dreaming.  I love the feel of when my feet hit the cool floor and I feel like I should tiptoe to keep the energy of stillness and peace still surrounding me and my household.  Sleep is a wonderful gift given to us by our Creator, sleeping in and savoring our sleep is a wonderful gift we give to ourselves.

Fav Things Friday The 3rd

Woop! Woop!  It’s Friday!  Happy Weekend!

“I hope life isn’t a big joke, because I don’t get it.” – Jack Handey

I found this quote on one of my favorite things which I will explain below in the favorite things section.  Years ago there was a sketch on Saturday Night Live called “Deep Thoughts with Jack Handey.”  I always found them to be so funny.  Anytime I find a quote or a thought or a musing that makes me think or makes me laugh I find somewhere to put it.  A lot of them are in a notebook I have, which is now almost full, but I also tape them on things like bathroom mirrors and refrigerators and inside the cover of my Barnes and Noble Hardcover Daily Desk Diary, which brings me to my favorite things.

Barnes and Noble Hardcover Daily Desk Diary – By now, you all have figured out that I’m kind of the old fashioned type who loves to write things down.  This is the calendar my family lives by and I have been buying the same style since 2008.  Why is it so great?  First of all, the monthly calendar blocks are nice and big and the weekly section is huge.   There are little blurbs about books and authors throughout the pages, which is interesting, but it doesn’t take a lot of space.  The maps in the back of the calendar are gorgeous.  The best part is that the calendars are black leather bound book style calendars that look terrific on our book shelves.  So I will keep them forever, and my kids can look back at them and say, “Oh, that’s when we went to Seattle or oh, that’s when I studied in Europe,” or “Wow, our lives were crazy busy and look how messy mom’s handwriting looks.”  Like I said, I tape things on the inside cover that tickle me, like cute pictures or funny sayings throughout the year so that makes for an interesting look as to where my headspace was that particular year, too.

Meditations for People Who Worry by Anne Wilson Schaef – This is my latest favorite meditation book.  I worry that I worry too much and this helps with that situation.  I found this book in the bargain section of my bookstore.  Some of the best books I have ever read, I have gotten in the clearance section or at garage sales.  I always feel like this is on purpose.  The right book comes at the right time.  Someone once told me that coincidence is God being anonymous and I definitely think that’s how it works with books.  This is a great, comforting daily read and I highly recommend it!

iRobot Roomba vacuum cleaner- We first saw the Roomba rolling around by itself vacuuming the floors of Jesse’s house after a big party on an episode of  Breaking Bad.  My husband and I felt right then and there, that it had our family’s name written all over it.  Six people, two shedding dogs and a lot of foot traffic makes for some nasty floors in our house.  Our Roomba has been going strong for years on a daily basis.  I still marvel at how well it works!  The only thing that it ever disappointed us with, is it’s lack of smelling capability.  When our ancient dog, Bojangles, started having “getting outside fast enough” issues, Roomba, unfortunately felt the need to spread the love. Overall, though, A+++++ product!!

Thank you for supporting this blog!  We’re getting more readers every day! Please spread the word to others who might enjoy it.  I really appreciate it and you.  🙂

****Hi readers!  Please feel free to add your favorites to Favorite Things Friday in the comments section.  I’m always looking for new Favorites! 🙂

The Best Half

I think I need an attitude adjustment.  I think I have been “resigning” to aging.  I think I have fallen a little into to that “it’s all downhill from here” trap.  I got to thinking yesterday that the second half of anything is always the better half!  The Second Half of Adulting is going to be amazing!

I live with a lot of men and a very athletic daughter.  So despite the fact I didn’t own a good pair of tennis shoes until my thirties, I have come to be a sports fan.  I have watched a lot (A LOT) of sports games over the years and to save time, I’ve come to believe that you only need to watch the second half of any game.  The second half is better and way more exciting.  By the second half, the players “get each other”.  They are in their groove with their teammates and they know what they are up against with their competition.   At halftime, they’ve reviewed their mistakes and they have experienced trick plays.  The players know that there are more trick plays to come, but they are better prepared and not surprised when these plays happen.  They get that “time is of the essence”.  The players appreciate that they don’t have all the time in the world to meet their objectives, so they play with urgency.  They play ALIVE!  It’s exciting, the second half of any game!

Think about movies and books and plays.  Once again, the second half is always better.  How many times when reading a book have you snuck ahead to the second half?  The second half of any good story is where the rubber hits the road.  The second half has all of the action, the climax, the moral of the story and the happily ever after.  The first half is just about character development so that you can get to the excitement of the more meaningful second half.

What about a really good meal?  The second half has the dessert cart.  Need I say more?  Pregnancy?  The second half comes with the baby!!!

So, here’s to all of my fellow Second Halfers!  We’ve made it!  The best is yet to come!  Go over your game plan, make sure your character has developed the way you want it to and enjoy your just desserts!!

Summertime Blues

I have a little of that “end of summer” melancholy going on right now.  My high schoolers are headed back to school on Monday and my college student son heads back to the university in about a week and a half.  His girlfriend came over to the house to say good-bye to us last night as she is heading back to college early for her sorority rush season.  We released our eldest son into his own adult world earlier this summer. I wonder when we are complete “empty nesters” if the seasons will seem as acutely distinct as they do right now.

It’s not that I’m entirely sad that summer is over.  The heat has slowed everything to a molten glob of inertia.  I’m eager for a faster pace.  The summer jobs that the kids have had at the beach and eateries have lost their novelty and newness and the “wind down” is obvious.  I remember how shockingly disrupted I felt the first summer after all four of my kids had started going to school for full days.  I’m a person who likes my “alone time” and I am eager to feel the uninterrupted quiet of my thoughts and my own personal rhythms again.

Still, it’s the little things that make each summer special and a little unique to previous summers.  This year when I drove my daughter to tennis every morning, we enjoyed a routine of listening to the same crazy radio show and laughing along with the antics of the DJs who we have both grown to really like.  We saw on a country road, the same elderly man, dressed formally, always smiling, walking with his cane and this mop of a dog that my daughter and I have nicknamed “Smoothie.”  “Smoothie” gives us the most hilarious “stare down” every morning, annoyed that we have disturbed the peace of she and her beloved.  The few times that we haven’t seen them on their daily walk, we have been concerned.  We missed them.  I will miss them this fall.

Summer is the time of big, new adventures and the anticipation of big, new adventures.  It is the time of slowing down and baking, prepping for the feast of the banquet of new learning and growing in the fall.  It is a pause in the schedules of life.  I have to hit “play” again here soon and I think I’m ready, but I’ll keep the bright memories stored on my life drive forever.

Did You Write That?

I miss handwriting.  I never wanted to be one of those old people who laments about the “good ol’ days”, but there are certain things that I wish could have a revival.  Handwriting is one of those lost arts that we don’t see too much of anymore.  It needs to be brought back.

What is more personal than handwriting?  It’s funny, but back when I was in school, we spent as much time learning handwriting as we did learning geometry.  It was always taught by the most anal-retentive, meticulous teacher in the school.  We all had the same practice books with the connect the dots configurations and yet, in the end, despite the hours and hours of “practice makes perfect”, none of our handwriting looks the same.  Handwriting is one of our own personal markers, almost like fingerprints.  When you get that rare card (never a letter anymore) in the snail mail, you usually know who it is from before you even open the card.  Even if the handwriting is awful and messy and hard to read, it is lovely, because it is a true personal stamp of a person you care about.

Today’s conversations are mostly done in digital form.  It makes sense. Email and texts are efficient, easy and convenient.  They are easy to read.  But none of that is nearly as personal as our own handwriting.  The emoticons and GIFs and many fonts are all somebody else’s creation, borrowed and apropos, but missing the element of “uniquely you.”

My handwriting has definitely gotten worse and less legible over the years.  I imagine that this is due to a combination of age and lack of use.  My husband always teases me about my vast collection of pens that I store like they are hurricane supplies.  I have an entire shelf devoted to beautiful stationery.  I delight in those chalkboard signs that cute eateries have where the employee with the prettiest handwriting has displayed the day’s menu highlights in a rainbow of chalk colors.   I think it is possible that handwriting is a lost art that will someday be featured in art galleries around the world.  I’ll buy a ticket to see that exhibition.  It will be wonderful!