"Are you doubting yourself again?"
This is what my boss said to me yesterday as I pow-wowed with my favorite co-worker of all time. I was working on a project. A large, complex and highly obnoxious project. Now, remember, I love my job. I do! I love waking up every morning because I get to work/play with people that I admire, respect and best of, like. My work family, they're the best.
But, "Are you doubting yourself again?"
It really got me thinking. At that moment, I wasn't doubting myself, I was just working through some details. So, yay me! But he was right, I doubt myself.
I doubt myself.
And inevitably, that doubt grows teeth and claws and morphs into a ravaging beast. Or, as it's better known, worry.
I worry that I'm a bad wife. I worry that I am too critical of my husband. Or that I'm not affectionate enough. Or that I exclude him or ignore him. I worry that I'm selfish and petty. I worry that I'm not beautiful enough.
I worry that I'm an awful friend. I'm pretty sure that I have a tendency to be a hermit. I worry that I don't contribute to my friendships. I worry that I'm a one-way street. I worry that I either say too much or too little. I worry that I don't reach out or that I don't see others reaching out to me.
I worry about being a lame-ass employee. I worry that I'm too sarcastic and mouthy. I worry that I don't do enough. Or that I do too much. I worry that I have a tendency to react, not act.
But most of all, I worry that I'm a terrible mom. Am I too strict or not strict enough? I worry that I'm mean-spirited and am teaching my girls to be mean-spirited. I worry that I'm completely inappropriate and rude. I worry that I put too much pressure on them or expect too much. I worry that my standards are too high. I worry that I model a horrible human being and am influencing them to be the same. I worry that I say too much or not enough. I'm sure I yell too much. I worry that I can't find the balance between smothering them and giving them their space.I think I need them too much and that I don't want them to have their secrets. I worry that I'm too nosy. I worry that I just suck.
I think, as women, we are naturally inclined to worry. We worry and we "mother" and we tend to those around us. Even if they don't want us to. Even if we aren't good at it. Is it because we are biologically and chemically wired to do so? Is it because that's the role that society tells us we have to play? Is it because our brains never shut up? NEVER. SHUT. UP. In trying to shut our brains up, do we fill our lives completely and stay busy, busy, busy?
I swore I would never be my mother. She's a great woman, don't get me wrong. But she is non-confrontational and I think that leads her to be taken advantage of. Before you get a mental picture, let me set the stage. My mom taught Kindergarten for 25 years. She was an amazing teacher. People placed their kids on lists to get into her class. Her students loved her and she loved her students. By the time she retired, she was teaching second and third generations of some of her original students. She is well known and well-loved by her peers, her students and her community. If I knew what was good for me, I would aspire to be like her. But I don't and I'll tell you why. She's under appreciated by the man who should cherish her as the most precious thing he could possibly get his hands on. But most horribly, she was under appreciated and not respected by someone who should have known better. Me. It's true, I didn't respect her. I thought she was ignorant and oblivious. I didn't ask for or graciously receive advice or direction from her. I separated myself from my family and shut them out of my life. I was a bitch. A rotten, selfish, nasty bitch.
So, I decided that wouldn't happen in my house. I was involved early on with the girls. I knew their friends. I spent time with them. A lot of time. As much as I could. I still do! I asked tough questions. Seriously, it isn't unheard of for me to ask things like, "So, are you having sex?" "Are you you doing drugs?" "Have you tried alcohol". Out of the blue and totally unexpected. I'm not afraid to ask the questions and have uncomfortable conversations. It's far more likely for the girls to be embarrassed by hard questions than me.
But in the midst of these teen years, I find myself constantly second guessing decisions and things I say. I worry that I'm saying too much of the wrong thing and not enough of the right thing.
I doubt myself.
What's the solution? Is there one? Am I alone? How do I be a better wife, mom, friend? A better person?
Anyone?
Showing posts with label Friends. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Friends. Show all posts
Thursday, April 10, 2014
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
A letter to my daughters
Things I want my daughters to know:
Plan for the future but enjoy each day and live it for all its worth.
High school is nothing like the real world. Sure, there are always going to be "popular" people, but in reality, you all get thrown to the sharks. The trick is not to know how to BE a shark or to avoid being eaten by a shark but to know how to swim with them
Be yourself. Who cares about what everyone else is doing. Be who makes you happy.
Take your education seriously. I don't mean for you not to have any fun, but how you do in high school counts. If you intend to go on to higher education, be prepared. Make them WANT you.
Don't let the boys get you down. If a boy can't appreciate who you are and value you as a human being, show him the door.
Stand tall and proud. Look people in the eye. Make them remember you.
Explore everything. Try acting and dancing and sports and school clubs. Listen to opera and swing music. Read biographies and historical fiction and classics. This is how you find your niche.
Keep a journal. You don't ever have to read it but it's therapeutic to write stuff down. Your hopes and dreams and fears and frustrations. Write it down and walk away. It's the journal's problem now.
Keep your friends close. While it's important to have a wide circle of people you are friendly with, it's even more important to have a tiny circle of people you are friends with. These are your "people". Keep them close.
If you don't know "who you are", don't worry. Your purpose will reveal itself with time. And when it does, you are going to change the world.
Don't be afraid to look foolish or to make mistakes...this is how we learn.
Drama bullshit is just that. Bullshit. That's all I have to say about that.
Rock your own style. Set your own trends. You are not a sheep.
Put your family first. Your family will be the ones cheering you on, wiping your tears, tending your wounds. Your family is in your corner, watching your back. We can't fight your battles for you, but you can be damn sure we can be your war council.
Smile. Smile often and without abandon. Not only is it good for you, it makes people wonder what you're up to.
Learn how to say no. Being the "Go To Girl" isn't a bad thing but people can and will suck you dry. Learn your limits and stick to them.
Look for the beauty in people, chances are you'll find it. If you can't find beauty, walk away. Don't let someone else's ugliness drag you down.
Be self reliant. Know how to take care of your car and use power tools. Be financially savvy and business smart.
Be responsible for your actions. Don't pass the buck.
Make people want to model your work ethic. Work quickly, efficiently and with the highest quality possible.
Respect yourself and others.
Never, ever give up.
And most important...Always remember that you are loved.
Plan for the future but enjoy each day and live it for all its worth.
High school is nothing like the real world. Sure, there are always going to be "popular" people, but in reality, you all get thrown to the sharks. The trick is not to know how to BE a shark or to avoid being eaten by a shark but to know how to swim with them
Be yourself. Who cares about what everyone else is doing. Be who makes you happy.
Take your education seriously. I don't mean for you not to have any fun, but how you do in high school counts. If you intend to go on to higher education, be prepared. Make them WANT you.
Don't let the boys get you down. If a boy can't appreciate who you are and value you as a human being, show him the door.
Stand tall and proud. Look people in the eye. Make them remember you.
Explore everything. Try acting and dancing and sports and school clubs. Listen to opera and swing music. Read biographies and historical fiction and classics. This is how you find your niche.
Keep a journal. You don't ever have to read it but it's therapeutic to write stuff down. Your hopes and dreams and fears and frustrations. Write it down and walk away. It's the journal's problem now.
Keep your friends close. While it's important to have a wide circle of people you are friendly with, it's even more important to have a tiny circle of people you are friends with. These are your "people". Keep them close.
If you don't know "who you are", don't worry. Your purpose will reveal itself with time. And when it does, you are going to change the world.
Don't be afraid to look foolish or to make mistakes...this is how we learn.
Drama bullshit is just that. Bullshit. That's all I have to say about that.
Rock your own style. Set your own trends. You are not a sheep.
Put your family first. Your family will be the ones cheering you on, wiping your tears, tending your wounds. Your family is in your corner, watching your back. We can't fight your battles for you, but you can be damn sure we can be your war council.
Smile. Smile often and without abandon. Not only is it good for you, it makes people wonder what you're up to.
Learn how to say no. Being the "Go To Girl" isn't a bad thing but people can and will suck you dry. Learn your limits and stick to them.
Look for the beauty in people, chances are you'll find it. If you can't find beauty, walk away. Don't let someone else's ugliness drag you down.
Be self reliant. Know how to take care of your car and use power tools. Be financially savvy and business smart.
Be responsible for your actions. Don't pass the buck.
Make people want to model your work ethic. Work quickly, efficiently and with the highest quality possible.
Respect yourself and others.
Never, ever give up.
And most important...Always remember that you are loved.
Monday, June 25, 2012
In which we narrowly escape the black market
I went away this weekend and almost didn't make it back. True story.
A girlfriend of mine, Lulu, is turning 30 and so her hubby aranged for a surprise weekend away for her and some girlfriends at a beach condo. Awww. We whisked her away and headed for a weekend with no men, no kids and if we played our cards right, copious amounts of alcohol.
We made a stop on the way to get a snack and pee. We thought it would be a perfect moment to take a picture so that our trip could be enjoyed for generations to come. My bestie, Tracy, approached a normal looking guy and asked him to take our picture. Now, this seems innocent enough, right? How many times have you asked someone to take your picture or been asked to take a picture? It's not like we were asking him to donate a lung or solve world hunger. Nope, it was just a picture.
Tracy: Excuse me, can you take our picture?
Man: No, I don't have time.
*crickets*
Now, intrepid readers, if you had just told a group of women that you didn't have time to take a picture (because let's face it, that's some hard, time-consuming shit right there), wouldn't you make an effort to walk away? Perhaps whip your phone out of your 80's throw back denims and start madly texting or talking or...something? Not our new friend. Nope, he just stood there. And stood there. And stood there. He stood there while we asked a woman to take our picture. He stood there while we laughed maniacally about people who "don't have time". He stood there until his wife/girlfriend/babysitter/parole officer/dominatrix came out of the bathroom and they walked away.
Shit. You. Not.
We made it to the condo in one piece and had some wine while watching the ocean. We walked down to the beach and wiggled our toes in the sand and picked up shells. Good times.
As the day wore on, we decided that we should adhere to the "Safety First" rule and called a cab to take us into town for dinner. Charms specified that there were 6 of us (twice), could they accomodate that? Yes, ma'am, be there in 20 minutes. Yay, let the party start!
We should have known that the driver was a whack job when he couldn't find his way through the parking lot to the unit we were at. When he finally arrived, he pulled up in a mini-van. Looks promising, right? Oh, you optimistic little ray of sunshine.
He opens the door and there, where the middle seat belongs is...nothing. That's right, folks, there was no middle seat. Why? Who the fuck knows. He says he took it out but doesn't know why.
Alrighty then.
If we were smart, we would have sent him packing and found a van with ALL its parts. But not us! We said, "Fuck it!" and off we went with Lulu and Charms sitting on the floor of the van. On the FLOOR of the van. From this vantage point, they were able to see that our driver had a cooler between the 2 front seats. Obviously, he was going to smuggle us out of the country, steal our organs and sell them to highest bidder. Beacause really, could it get any weirder?
Yes, yes it can.
After dinner, we called another cab to take us downtown (for 6 please, with 6 seats!), hopefully for drinks and dancing! While we waited, we went into a little gift store and looked at all the crap that tourists absolutely insist on buying while on vacation but almost always turns out to be something like, "What the fuck was a thinking?" We came around a corner of the store and there was the tallest chick I've ever seen with a pelican at her feet...biting her hand. Seriously, a pelican. One of these...
Except without the birds and about 75 more colored scarves and electric blue paint and glitter around her eyes. And she sang. Why yes, I did have nightmares.
And we called another cab (for 6 with 6 seats). This guy was younger than the other two and the ride started out without incident. Until he informed us that he was a 3rd degree black belt and if anyone was to ask, he was a fighter not a lover. Oh and he didn't seem to like it when Lulu asked him if he was going to steal our organs and then kill us. Touchy, touchy.
He dropped us off at a "club" where there was supposed to be good music for dancing. There was dancing alright...there was the guy that was just DYING to dance and looked like he was about to bust a move at any moment. The chick who was either dancing with an invisible friend or had dropped some very pretty acid before she left the house. Although our personal favorite was a couple who we don't think was really a couple that was either having a dance off or this was their version of foreplay. They were running into each other and flinging each other around. At one point, she ended the dance by falling slowly to the floor and then just laid there.
Best entertainment ever.
And we called another cab (for 6 with 6 seats). Apparently, the reason downtown was so quiet is because cab driver #4 thought the party was in his van. I'm pretty sure each and every one of my organs was vibrated to within an inch of their lives (it's a good thing cab driver #1 didn't try to sell any of them then because I think they were damaged) and I think I'm clear on how it feels to have heart palpitations. And did I mention he thought he was in the Indy 500? At one point, while trying to enter the condo address (which Bre had to google on her phone because he didn't know where in the hell he was going), he nearly plowed into an off-ramp guard rail. But don't worry girls, "I got you!" But I'll tell you what, Kristin and DanceBoy were dancing and singing like it was 1999!
Thankfully, we made it home alive (and with all our organs) and had dessert and more wine.
This is where we get to the sad part...we're old. I hate to admit it but we are. Give us a warm blankie and a glass of wine and we'll fall asleep on the couch.
No one lost a kidney or got stung by a jellyfish or was dry humped on the dance floor. But it was amazing and unforgettable and I can't wait to do it again.
I would tell you more, but I don't have time. *wink wink*
A girlfriend of mine, Lulu, is turning 30 and so her hubby aranged for a surprise weekend away for her and some girlfriends at a beach condo. Awww. We whisked her away and headed for a weekend with no men, no kids and if we played our cards right, copious amounts of alcohol.
We made a stop on the way to get a snack and pee. We thought it would be a perfect moment to take a picture so that our trip could be enjoyed for generations to come. My bestie, Tracy, approached a normal looking guy and asked him to take our picture. Now, this seems innocent enough, right? How many times have you asked someone to take your picture or been asked to take a picture? It's not like we were asking him to donate a lung or solve world hunger. Nope, it was just a picture.
Tracy: Excuse me, can you take our picture?
Man: No, I don't have time.
*crickets*
Now, intrepid readers, if you had just told a group of women that you didn't have time to take a picture (because let's face it, that's some hard, time-consuming shit right there), wouldn't you make an effort to walk away? Perhaps whip your phone out of your 80's throw back denims and start madly texting or talking or...something? Not our new friend. Nope, he just stood there. And stood there. And stood there. He stood there while we asked a woman to take our picture. He stood there while we laughed maniacally about people who "don't have time". He stood there until his wife/girlfriend/babysitter/parole officer/dominatrix came out of the bathroom and they walked away.
Shit. You. Not.
We made it to the condo in one piece and had some wine while watching the ocean. We walked down to the beach and wiggled our toes in the sand and picked up shells. Good times.
As the day wore on, we decided that we should adhere to the "Safety First" rule and called a cab to take us into town for dinner. Charms specified that there were 6 of us (twice), could they accomodate that? Yes, ma'am, be there in 20 minutes. Yay, let the party start!
We should have known that the driver was a whack job when he couldn't find his way through the parking lot to the unit we were at. When he finally arrived, he pulled up in a mini-van. Looks promising, right? Oh, you optimistic little ray of sunshine.
He opens the door and there, where the middle seat belongs is...nothing. That's right, folks, there was no middle seat. Why? Who the fuck knows. He says he took it out but doesn't know why.
Alrighty then.
If we were smart, we would have sent him packing and found a van with ALL its parts. But not us! We said, "Fuck it!" and off we went with Lulu and Charms sitting on the floor of the van. On the FLOOR of the van. From this vantage point, they were able to see that our driver had a cooler between the 2 front seats. Obviously, he was going to smuggle us out of the country, steal our organs and sell them to highest bidder. Beacause really, could it get any weirder?
Yes, yes it can.
After dinner, we called another cab to take us downtown (for 6 please, with 6 seats!), hopefully for drinks and dancing! While we waited, we went into a little gift store and looked at all the crap that tourists absolutely insist on buying while on vacation but almost always turns out to be something like, "What the fuck was a thinking?" We came around a corner of the store and there was the tallest chick I've ever seen with a pelican at her feet...biting her hand. Seriously, a pelican. One of these...
That's right, in the store, biting her hand. But it's okay because it's a baby, it's been there for 2 days and birds poop all the time. Phew, thank goodness Tall Chick was an expert on birds.
Our cab arrives. Yay!
We count the seats, yep all there...and we're off! This driver seems normal enough until we notice a bottle of...something between his legs. "Whatcha got there, O'douls?"
Driver: No, no, this is just Ginger Ale.
Riiiigggghhhhhttttt.....
He drops us downtown and we go looking for trouble. I mean dancing. For a beach town, it was damn quiet. The most excitement we found was at the pizza parlor where the staff was doing a floor show. A little Greased Lightning and some flying pizza dough makes for a damn good time. We did find a slightly frightening person that looked like the Bird Lady from Mary Poppins...
Except without the birds and about 75 more colored scarves and electric blue paint and glitter around her eyes. And she sang. Why yes, I did have nightmares.
And we called another cab (for 6 with 6 seats). This guy was younger than the other two and the ride started out without incident. Until he informed us that he was a 3rd degree black belt and if anyone was to ask, he was a fighter not a lover. Oh and he didn't seem to like it when Lulu asked him if he was going to steal our organs and then kill us. Touchy, touchy.
He dropped us off at a "club" where there was supposed to be good music for dancing. There was dancing alright...there was the guy that was just DYING to dance and looked like he was about to bust a move at any moment. The chick who was either dancing with an invisible friend or had dropped some very pretty acid before she left the house. Although our personal favorite was a couple who we don't think was really a couple that was either having a dance off or this was their version of foreplay. They were running into each other and flinging each other around. At one point, she ended the dance by falling slowly to the floor and then just laid there.
Best entertainment ever.
And we called another cab (for 6 with 6 seats). Apparently, the reason downtown was so quiet is because cab driver #4 thought the party was in his van. I'm pretty sure each and every one of my organs was vibrated to within an inch of their lives (it's a good thing cab driver #1 didn't try to sell any of them then because I think they were damaged) and I think I'm clear on how it feels to have heart palpitations. And did I mention he thought he was in the Indy 500? At one point, while trying to enter the condo address (which Bre had to google on her phone because he didn't know where in the hell he was going), he nearly plowed into an off-ramp guard rail. But don't worry girls, "I got you!" But I'll tell you what, Kristin and DanceBoy were dancing and singing like it was 1999!
Thankfully, we made it home alive (and with all our organs) and had dessert and more wine.
This is where we get to the sad part...we're old. I hate to admit it but we are. Give us a warm blankie and a glass of wine and we'll fall asleep on the couch.
No one lost a kidney or got stung by a jellyfish or was dry humped on the dance floor. But it was amazing and unforgettable and I can't wait to do it again.
I would tell you more, but I don't have time. *wink wink*
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Between friends
Day 4 (of 30ish)
Things I love
In which I tell you about my other BFF ♥
My friend Kat is probably one of my favorite people in the whole world and I'll tell you why.
Just about everything she touches works out. I don't know how she does it, but I am in awe.
The more kids she has around her, the more she thrives. It's all I can do to make it through the day with 2 and she make 4 and sometimes 6 kids look like a walk in the park.
She is completely comfortable in her own skin and if you don't like it, tough.
She has been my friend since High School and even though there have been times when we weren't close, we always return to the comfortable friendship that only true friends experience.
Family comes first for her. Always.
She's ballsy. In a good way.
I know that I can call her anytime, anyplace for anything and she will always be there.
She's one of those people that subscribes to the mentality that if you fuck with one of us, you fuck with all of us. I like that.
She loves me for me. Not who I could be or who I could be for her. Me. Just me. That's awesome.
You should go visit her at Kat
Things I love
In which I tell you about my other BFF ♥
My friend Kat is probably one of my favorite people in the whole world and I'll tell you why.
Just about everything she touches works out. I don't know how she does it, but I am in awe.
The more kids she has around her, the more she thrives. It's all I can do to make it through the day with 2 and she make 4 and sometimes 6 kids look like a walk in the park.
She is completely comfortable in her own skin and if you don't like it, tough.
She has been my friend since High School and even though there have been times when we weren't close, we always return to the comfortable friendship that only true friends experience.
Family comes first for her. Always.
She's ballsy. In a good way.
I know that I can call her anytime, anyplace for anything and she will always be there.
She's one of those people that subscribes to the mentality that if you fuck with one of us, you fuck with all of us. I like that.
She loves me for me. Not who I could be or who I could be for her. Me. Just me. That's awesome.
You should go visit her at Kat
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
On friendly terms
The Truth According to Me
Day 2 (of 30ish)
Things I love
I have two friends that I cherish most of all. One I have known since we were obnoxious teenage rebels. The other I have been blessed to know for only a few years. I don't know how I would make it through the day without either of them. Rather than reward you with the pleasure of both their company at once, I'm going to tell you about one, but save the other for later. Bwah ha ha ha ha....
I love my friend Tracy.
I love that she says "Fuck" All. The. Time.
I love that she is fiercely loyal
I love that sees the good in people (even if there isn't any)
I love that her family comes first
I love that she teases and gets teased by The Mr.
I love that she says it the way it is
I love that she has tattoos
I love that she calls me up to go out on dates
I love that we can sit out in the neighborhood, drinking and swearing and it's a damn good time
I love that she is going to be an amazing nurse
I love that she would kick someones ass for me
I love that I can call her up and cry or rage or whine like a little girl
I love that she uses words like "Ding-a-ling"
I have often wondered how I made it through life until I met her. She is an example of a true friend and I think she's just swell ♥
Day 2 (of 30ish)
Things I love
I have two friends that I cherish most of all. One I have known since we were obnoxious teenage rebels. The other I have been blessed to know for only a few years. I don't know how I would make it through the day without either of them. Rather than reward you with the pleasure of both their company at once, I'm going to tell you about one, but save the other for later. Bwah ha ha ha ha....
I love my friend Tracy.
I love that she says "Fuck" All. The. Time.
I love that she is fiercely loyal
I love that sees the good in people (even if there isn't any)
I love that her family comes first
I love that she teases and gets teased by The Mr.
I love that she says it the way it is
I love that she has tattoos
I love that she calls me up to go out on dates
I love that we can sit out in the neighborhood, drinking and swearing and it's a damn good time
I love that she is going to be an amazing nurse
I love that she would kick someones ass for me
I love that I can call her up and cry or rage or whine like a little girl
I love that she uses words like "Ding-a-ling"
I have often wondered how I made it through life until I met her. She is an example of a true friend and I think she's just swell ♥
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)