Putting Her To Bed

Way back in 2002 or 2003 or so, I still put my daughter to bed. She was 4 or so and still sweet and innocent. So we thought...

My ex was on the couch watching TV while I gave the kid a bath. After the bath, I took her downstairs to say good night to her "da-da". 

True to the routine, she was slow and stalled trying to postpone the inevitable. I was used to it and didn't rush her. 

As we turned to go back upstairs, she stomped her feet and I saw the sulk start. She had been in a great mood most of the night. Quite the attitude.

"What in the world is wrong, Squirt?" I asked.

A few steps up, she answered with, "I'm not ready to go to f***ing bed!"

 

I looked at my ex still on the couch. He looked at me. Both of us were dumbfounded! I wanted to laugh because it was so cute and honest. But my 4 year old dropped an F bomb!

My ex finally said, "Well, she used it in the right context." True enough. 

I, of course, admonished her but didn't extract any punishment. She was just a little thing and really didn't know what she said. If happened again, I'd deal with it differently.

There's only been one other incident...

Stay tuned.

Our Enemy's Best Friend

"We have to learn to be our own best friends because we fall too easily 

into the trap of being our own worst enemies." - Roderick Thorp

Roderick Thorp is wrote The Detective and Nothing Lasts Forever. Both books were made into movies. The Detective book was filmed as "The Detective". Nothing Lasts Forever was filmed as "Die Hard". His filmography credits him with all the Die Hard movies. Just thought that was cool enough to share.

Back to the quote though...

I have only recently realized I am my own best friend and have been since I was little. I'm still a bit overwhelmed by the realization.

I've been my worst critic and hardest on myself. I've beat myself up and sent me into dark, ugly downward spirals. I've made excuses for not following through. I've accepted my shortcomings. I've lied to myself. I've cheated myself. I've hurt myself. I just haven't been very good to me. I've let me shoulder burdens that weren't mine. I've accepted guilt that didn't belong to me. And my enemy was ok with all of that. 

But I no longer am. Now that my best friend has emerged I know I don't have to put with that crap. Sure I still beat myself up and make excuses and hurt myself. Now though I am quicker to correct myself; to remind me that I'm not a bad person. I throw a life ring to me sooner when I feel pulled down into the spirals. Sometimes I have to picture me standing in front of me saying, "Stop right there, sista! You are NOT going down this road again." 

I don't do things out of obligation anymore so no more shouldering burdens unless I want to. And then it's not really a "burden" is it? See how that works? It's great! I don't end up hurting myself for not standing up for what I really want or need. Or both. 

I disciplined my daughter last week for not doing her "chores". Six months ago, I would have been wrought with guilt. Sure I could have justified it. But I don't have to anymore. The guilt is not mine to be had. Grace knows her responsibilities and there are consequences for not doing what she's told. I was right. She was wrong. Therefore, no guilt. Why should there be? I cannot control her actions. Only my reactions. 

She accepts my strengths and weaknesses without judging me. She tries to make my weaknesses less.

I encourage my best friend when I really don't want to do something. Even more, I question why my best friend doesn't want to do something to find the deeper issue - If I do this, will I hurt us? Am I sacrificing what we want or believe to satisfy another person? 

I now praise her for a job well done. I acknowledge more when my bestie does something right or good. Even the little things. 

Probably more importantly, though I've always done this, I take time for me. I seem to recognize better now when my best friend needs me time though. I fight for it harder now. I realize just how important it is for me to stay my best friend.

My BFF trusts me. Always has. I can make a decision instantly whether it's buying a house sight unseen or not doing something just because I don't feel it is right for me at the time. We just know. I also know that my first impressions of people are almost always wrong. 

I respect who I am and where I am from. I've always been me and had the attitude that if someone doesn't like who I am, tough tiddlywinks. I'm not changing for likes of them. It's their problem - not mine. 

My best friend loves me enough to know I'm not perfect and I never will be. She's comfortable with that. As a matter of fact, she loves the challenge in making me as perfect as I can be. She's optimistic like that.

She doesn't lie to me, though I may not always appreciate her honesty. She doesn't care that I have a bad hair day though she may make fun of it. All day long. We don't sweat the little stuff. And it's all little stuff. Yes, we're still hard on each other about some issues. Some issues we're not. I remind her there's no need to get ticked off. When she asks why not, I have the answers. 

I don't have to wake anyone up at 2 AM to cry on their shoulder and then apologize. I don't have to depend on anyone else taking note that I cleaned out the microwave. 

Being my own best friend keeps me from being my own worst enemy. I may have to get in my own face about stupid stuff, but that's what I'm here for.

Looking back, I see I've pulled myself through so much. No one's been there for me like I have - that's for sure! Like I had a choice of some sort... ;) That retrospect is what made me realize who I am - my own best friend. 

Are YOU you're own best friend? 

Fabulous Friday

Five things I'm grateful for today:

FRIENDS & FAMILY - the ones I cut up with, the ones I confide in, the ones that expose me to new & different.

PUPPY KISSES - No matter what the world throws my way, it's nothing a puppy kiss can't wash off!

TECHNOLOGY - I love words - writing, reading, studying. Technology lets me explore more of them quicker and easier.

SOLITUDE - I'm an introvert - what else can I say? I can't get enough quiet time. Though I did get a few good hours of good quality me time last night.

ME - I know that sounds conceited. I am proud of who I am - strong, independent, resourceful and a thinker.

What are YOU grateful for today?

Taking Turns

I found one of my journals from 2004. It was a tough year. It was just before my mom passed away.

If it's possible, I lived in several layers of denial. I stayed in Tennessee far removed from the situation even though I traveled to Atlanta at least every other weekend while she was in the mid and late stages of lung cancer. My brother was there. I didn't have to worry - I knew he'd take care of things. And he did. 

When we first learned Mom had cancer, she asked me to move back in with her and she would pay for my school, room and board. I said no and gave her my reasons. She respected my decision as far as I know. This was just over three years after my older brother Jay passed away in 1991. 

When Jay passed, I still lived in Atlanta and was by Mom's side through it all. I had to be. She was my strength, but I was hers too. We had the same sense of humor and supported each other through the ordeal.

I've never regretted not being there to help take care of Mom. If I were asked again, I'd give the same answer. I've never felt any guilt over it. I made a decision I knew was right for me.

What caught my attention in that journal was this - 

"...and how everyone at some point has to / needs to take care of their mom. I took care of Mom when Jay died. David certainly wasn't there. But David took care of Mom when she was sick. I certainly wasn't there."

Until just the other day, I didn't realize I did take care of Mom. I just hadn't put the two and two together. 

I took care of her in a state of grief, though she was amazingly strong. I was there for her emotionally. I was there for her when one of us had passed away and the other found comfort and support elsewhere. I listened and joked and cried with her.

David took care of Mom's affairs. The day to day she couldn't do anymore. Her medical needs. The paperwork. The doctor appointments. Hospice.

I was emotionally strong for her. He was administratively strong for her. I couldn't understood the insurance stuff - not the time for a huge learning curve! He did understand it all. 

He couldn't have handled the emotional side of Jay's passing where Mom was concerned. He tends to not talk about the heavy stuff where Mom and I had a need to talk about it - to get it out. 

We took turns being there for Mom in ways we could handle. Once again, God put us right where we needed to be.

The Smurf Massacre

In high school, my Spanish teacher was Ms. Brady. Very interesting lady and very well liked. She was tough and fair and had a great sense of humor. And a bit quirky. She owned a Python named Slick and she collected Smurf figurines. 

 

Yes, Smurfs. She had a whole shelf of them she collected over the years. I don't remember why she had them exactly but she protected them fiercely. Every now and then someone would sneak one out of her room just to see if she noticed. She did. And it wasn't pretty. 

My senior year I took AP (Advanced Placement) Spanish. There were five of us in the class - 4 girls and Jose. Three of us girls were pretty close. We decided one day to write a poem for Ms. Brady's Smurfs. I leave it for you below...

The Smurf Massacre

Roses are red

Smurfs are blue

We want 'em dead

How 'bout you?

We'll get out the rat traps

The pea shooters, too.

Then we'll see if Smurf blood is blue!

We'll string 'em all up

Punch 'em in the nose

And then after that

We'll hang 'em by their toes.

Papa's a whimp

Smurfette's a flirt

Brainy knows nothing

And Baby plays in dirt.

We love Gargamel.

Azreal's cool.

So we don't know why

You bring Smurfs to school.

We don't really mean it

It was all said in jest

We truly hate Gargamel

So give 'em all our best!

Luckily, Ms. Brady was smart and knew who wrote it and laughed it off as a senior prank of sorts. We had a lot of fun writing that poem. Probably during one of our "Culture Days" where we'd get Cuban gyros and bring them back to class. 

Ms. Brady passed in 2007 or so. I don't know what came of Slick or her Smurfs. I do know that she left a legacy of being a great person behind. Thank you for everything, Ms. Brady.

Independence Is More About Strength

"We think to be grown up we must be independent and not need anyone and that's why we're all dying of loneliness. / How wonderful to be needed. And great to need!"

The above quote is from "Living, Loving and Learning" by Leo Buscaglia.

 

I disagree with it - it goes against everything I've ever been taught.

I grew up the third child of a single mom. Her choice. She, along with my widowed great aunts, was my role model. My grandmother and my friends' moms, were all still married and yet independent and strong in their own rite. I saw both sides of this independent thing.

Looking back, these women probably didn't need anyone except their kids. And they were strong enough to know their babies would fly from the nest eventually. 

Independence for me has more to do with strength. It doesn't have to mean loneliness. To be strong, you must be dependent on the self. When you're strong, you have yourself. You are your best friend. You don't need all the time. When you are your best friend, there is no loneliness. There is no dying of loneliness because you either have yourself or stand up for yourself and seek companionship. Which comes back to the self taking care of the self and depending on the self. 

It has little to do with need. To be strong sometimes you have to be weak and depend on others, to ask for help, to humble yourself to be dependent. That need is a decision. 

So yes how great to need and to be needed - by the self. How wonderful to be strong enough to say, "I need help..."

For me, to need and to be needed are selfish, to an extent. I don't want to burden someone else with MY needs when I'm capable of taking care of me. They have their own needs. I don't want to feel good about myself when someone is in need of me. I'm there for them and will do everything in my power to help, but for their glory - not mine. Rarely to I walk away from helping someone patting myself on the back for a job well done. I am more concerned with the outcome. 

I don't want to be needed by anyone who is willing and able to take care of themselves. However, I love it someone strong enough to come to me and say, "Can I cry on your shoulder for a bit?" or "Will you teach me how to..."

I will not force myself on someone who I perceive needs me. That's not fair. Maybe they just need time and space to get their ducks in a row or back in a row. 

I have me. I'm strong and can talk to me about anything and everything. I have me to tell me when I need someone. 

I'm not dying of loneliness though I grew up thinking I had to be independent and I don't need anyone. It was taught and learned. I also grew up knowing I am strong enough to be dependent. I realize there are those out there who are. And I am here for them if they need me.

Meditating In the Mosh Pit

It's a book by Laurie Helgoe. I haven't read it. I am an introvert and am proud of it. I already know how to work the world for my own peace. But I live the concept.


One thing the description on Amazon.com - probably an excerpt from the book - says rings so true with me. "Quiet is might. Solitude is strength. Introversion is power."

Might being a power; a force; a vigor. To be a dork about it, my powers are restored through being an introvert.

Solitude IS strength. I knew this when my ex-husband was in Montana for 2 weeks for his grandmother's funeral. We thought it a good time to try a trial separation.

I absolutely thrived those 2 weeks. I was efficient. Self confident. On top of things. I had it together. I was alive. I realized living with him sucked the life - the independence - out of me. I spent time with my daughter and had me time too. I was happy; on top of the world. Yin and yang. Harmony.
 
MOSH PIT: Work

My last two jobs meant sharing open space with someone else with offices around us. Most of the time, it's ok. There's a lot of traffic buzzing by my desk. I've learned to adjust. I do enjoy catching up with the passerby's.

MEDITATING: Work

There are days I want my own office where I can shut the door, turn the lights off and work in peace. No noise, lower energy. Way back when, I had this and I had to make excuses when I did shut my door. I didn't care. It was what I needed. Sometimes I just tell whoever I'm working with I'm concentrating or I need quiet. I admit I'm not always nice about it. Going out at lunch is a way I get away from the office energies and recharge. It's not much but it helps!

MOSH PIT: Home

My home isn't really a mosh pit though it can be. I have a boy crazy, music loving teenage daughter and a husband who's brain will not turn off and who cannot stand to be cooped up at home more than a few hours.

My daughter reads me for the most part and acts accordingly. Most of the time. I'm careful not to quell her energy too much. She is who she is and needs that time and space and respect. She has some introvert traits so she unknowingly understands. I will step into her energized world to monitor what she is exposed to.

My husband on the other hand… He's an extrovert who's always thinking and wants to do or go. He thrives off being around people. He prefers to have the TV on most of the time. Ugh. We wouldn't even have a TV if it were up to me. Ours lurks in a dark corner and almost taunts me. He doesn't understand introversion at all. He does try to respect mine though. Typically Saturday is our day to go and to do - his play day.

MEDITATING: Home

Sundays are mine. I get to stay home and nap and clean the house and do laundry and whatever else. Sundays I put my house back in order - literally and figuratively. It's my day to recharge.

MOSH PIT: The Rest Of the World

The energy in a mall gives me a headache. I kid you not. The people, the noise, all the things to take in overwhelm me. People making normal noises - humming, sniffling, sighing, talking to themselves, crunching chips…

Noise is energy to me. Things like plastic rustling, shuffling paper, doors opening and closing, windshield wipers, a faucet running water, radio and TV all take me out of meditation and throw me in my mosh pits. Noises I make get on my OWN nerves!

MEDITATING: The Rest Of the World

Writing forces my world to slow down; to quieten down; to be still; to reduce the energy. It allows me to do what I need - to turn inside myself; to think. Again, I recharge in solitude.

So how do I "meditate in the mosh pit" in general? I stay out of it to a large extent. I turn the world off. I take a nap. I watch my child with her cat. I get in a puppy pile. I go to nature. I write. I carve out me time. I keep the radio and TV stay off. I get up at 4 AM. I do what I have to do for me. It's how I re-center my self.

Until Now

I never knew my father. My mom left him when I was about six months old. Despite Mom's diplomatic approach when I asked about him, I didn't miss much. And I really didn't care. I had my brothers and my grandfather who more than made up for my father's absence. 

Curiosity finally got the better of me sometime in 1996. He had an unusual name so I thought it would be easy to find him. That's another story for another time, but I did learn he died in 1983 or 1984. Oh well.

I shed no tears after finding that out. Though it did inspire me to wax poetic. Here's the one and only poem I wrote for my father: 

Until Now

One day you were there

Then you were gone

Did you even say good-bye to me?

The anguish you left behind

Laid deep within me

Until now.

It wasn't my fault

And yet I pay your moral debt.

I never needed you

Only closure from you.

All my life I have replaced you. 

Now they too are gone. 

Now I feel the 

Torment of your uncaring.

Ah, the pain you caused. 

Years I have been at peace with your absence

And at war with love. 

Until now.

 

My Last New Friends

The first last new friend I met I’ll call Christine. We met when she came to take my job so I take on other responsibilities.   

I’ll be the first to say I did not like her from the start. (No worries – she knows.) She was resourceful in getting the job. I just saw it as pushy and snobby.

My first impressions are almost always wrong.

 

Once I learned more about Christine, I understood her motivation better. Now I know that pushy person is strong and gets what she wants. She’s not afraid to work for it. Or make it work for her.

The first week I was thrilled to have her there. The second week I started seeing just how much she and I are alike. It’s been just over six months now.

It’s scary how much we are alike. What we’ve survived. Our strength. Our resourcefulness. Our hair color. 

Because we breathe the same office space 30+ hours a week, we’ve become close quickly. We laugh together, throw things at each other, share stories. Heck, we even cry together sometimes.

I give the poor girl a heck of a time, but am honored to call Christine a friend. I know I can call her and she’ll be there for me. Even if I am mean to her. And I will be there for her.

 

The other last person I met is almost 2 years ago – Rose. We met at a neighbor’s party. Our daughters would be at the same school in the same grade. The girls - both very reserved hit it off immediately - which was odd for both. They got to know each other under the night sky on the hammock while the adults all yapped inside.

Rose and I seemed to have little in common except our daughters, where we live, and our mutual friends. She traveled and negotiated high dollar contracts. I kind of run a small office. We swapped phone numbers for the girls’ sakes.

Nature took its course and as Grace and Julia spent more time together, so did Rose and I.

I enjoyed being in Rose’s company. She’s intelligent and smart, quick witted and serious. She thinks deep and has class. And she’s strong. I liked that about her.

More and more I saw we do have quite a bit in common.

This year hasn’t been easy on either of us. We have teen daughters! We helped each other through some icky parts. I at least was comforted knowing Rose was just at the other end of the phone.

I count both these ladies as two of my blessings. Thank you both for gracing my life.