Derek again... only this time, my nephew and not my favorite baseball player. I took this picture this August at my daughter's 5th birthday party.
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Saturday, September 13, 2008
SOOC Saturday -- Derek
SOOC = Straight Out Of Camera.
Melody over at Slurping Life started "SOOC Saturday" and I think it sounds like fun. SOOC stands for "straight out of camera," no editing or chopping or PhotoShop-ing allowed. Which is good, because I don't really know how to do any of those things to begin with. This is right up my alley!
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I took this picture at Yankee Stadium in July. I love it for 3 reasons, in spite of the fact that it's a little bit blurry:
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1. It's Derek Jeter. Really now... what's not to love?!?
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2. I had just gotten a new camera and finally figured out the super-duper zoom feature. (Yes, I'm pretty sure that's the proper name for it.) I was sitting in the back row of the left field bleachers when I took this. (For the non-baseball people, those are the seats behind the 3rd base side of the field, up above the bull pen. My husband guesses we were about 540 feet away from home plate.)
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3. Totally by coincidence (er, I mean, due to my amazing timing and expert skill?!?), there is a ball flying in from the left of the of the picture. I couldn't do that again if I tried, but hey, sure looks cool!
Friday, September 5, 2008
Exceptional Customer Service
Today I received unexpected, exceptional customer service. How often does that happen. Um, never comes to mind!!
My daughter, who started Kindergarten this year, has a dress code. Not a "uniform" per say, but guidelines on colors and styles. Being a 5-year-old girl who adores princesses, the kid will ONLY wear dresses. Not skirts, not skorts, but dresses.
I was able to find a few navy blue jumper dresses in our local stores, but none in black or khaki (her other 2 approved colors). I decided to order some online from Old Navy.
When the jumpers arrived (2 khaki, 1 black) and she tried them on, I decided that she probably needed a bigger size. I was delighted to learn that Old Navy allows you to print a return address label for return shipping, at no cost to the customer. I completed the exchange form, printed the label, and shipped it back. I wanted the exact same 3 items, just in 1 size bigger.
Yesterday I received an email that my exchange was received and my new order had shipped. However, the sale price and discount code I had used on the original order were not applied to the new items, so I owed them $22. I made a note to call today to complain, argue, and get my account credited. I planned to return the items for a full refund if my demands were not met.
The morning got away from me and I didn't call first thing as I had planned. A little after noon, my cell phone rang. It was Mark from Old Navy Online Customer Service, who was calling to tell me there had been an error with the exchange, the wrong prices were applied to the new items, and he was in the process of correcting my account to eliminate the new $22 charge. He needed my authorization to credit the original purchase price to my account, and then debit my account for the same amount, to account for the 3 new items.
Wow. I was impressed! Not only did they catch the error, but a very nice man called to apologize for the error and let me know he was correcting it right away. I felt guilty for even considering a complaint to this company.
Sometimes it's the little things that mean so much. Recognizing a mistake. Apologizing for it. Correcting it. And doing so with a pleasant tone and a positive attitude. Old Navy, you are now my preferred online retail site. Thanks for making my day!
My daughter, who started Kindergarten this year, has a dress code. Not a "uniform" per say, but guidelines on colors and styles. Being a 5-year-old girl who adores princesses, the kid will ONLY wear dresses. Not skirts, not skorts, but dresses.
I was able to find a few navy blue jumper dresses in our local stores, but none in black or khaki (her other 2 approved colors). I decided to order some online from Old Navy.
When the jumpers arrived (2 khaki, 1 black) and she tried them on, I decided that she probably needed a bigger size. I was delighted to learn that Old Navy allows you to print a return address label for return shipping, at no cost to the customer. I completed the exchange form, printed the label, and shipped it back. I wanted the exact same 3 items, just in 1 size bigger.
Yesterday I received an email that my exchange was received and my new order had shipped. However, the sale price and discount code I had used on the original order were not applied to the new items, so I owed them $22. I made a note to call today to complain, argue, and get my account credited. I planned to return the items for a full refund if my demands were not met.
The morning got away from me and I didn't call first thing as I had planned. A little after noon, my cell phone rang. It was Mark from Old Navy Online Customer Service, who was calling to tell me there had been an error with the exchange, the wrong prices were applied to the new items, and he was in the process of correcting my account to eliminate the new $22 charge. He needed my authorization to credit the original purchase price to my account, and then debit my account for the same amount, to account for the 3 new items.
Wow. I was impressed! Not only did they catch the error, but a very nice man called to apologize for the error and let me know he was correcting it right away. I felt guilty for even considering a complaint to this company.
Sometimes it's the little things that mean so much. Recognizing a mistake. Apologizing for it. Correcting it. And doing so with a pleasant tone and a positive attitude. Old Navy, you are now my preferred online retail site. Thanks for making my day!
Monday, September 1, 2008
Can we please stop calling it a game?!?
I've done my absolute, scout's best to avoid blogging about politics, even though it's something I'm very passionate about and is usually high on the "things we talk about after the kids go to bed" list in my home. I know it's controversial, and that's not what this blog is all about... but I just can't keep my mouth shut any longer.
Can we please, please stop talking about the upcoming Presidential election as if it's a game? I'm so sick of hearing about when "we" win or when "they" lose... as if we're in the locker room at halftime. And with Senator McCain's choice of Sarah Palin as his running mate, I can't count the number of times I've seen or read about how that "changes the game." Makes me want to scream!!
Politics is not a sport. It is not a game. It is not a contest. It is an election. It determines the path America will take for the next four years. It charts a course for our current standard of living, our future, our children's future and their children's future. It's not about "us" or "them" or "win" or "lose." It's about issues, it's about who's best equipped to lead. It's about our lives.
Education. Economy. Environment. Health care. National security. The war in Iraq. Social Security. Abortion. Same-sex marriage. The right to bear arms.
Regardless of your party affiliation, regardless of your top issues, take the time to learn each candidate's position on them. We all get the same choices, the same vote. Decide what issues you care most about, how those issues impact your everyday life, and learn which candidate has the closest position to yours. Then go to the polls with an informed vote to cast. Not a red vote or a blue vote, an informed vote. Whatever choice you make, though, remember... this is your life. This is your future. This is your America. But this is absolutely not a game.
(Stepping down off my soapbox, at least for now....)
Can we please, please stop talking about the upcoming Presidential election as if it's a game? I'm so sick of hearing about when "we" win or when "they" lose... as if we're in the locker room at halftime. And with Senator McCain's choice of Sarah Palin as his running mate, I can't count the number of times I've seen or read about how that "changes the game." Makes me want to scream!!
Politics is not a sport. It is not a game. It is not a contest. It is an election. It determines the path America will take for the next four years. It charts a course for our current standard of living, our future, our children's future and their children's future. It's not about "us" or "them" or "win" or "lose." It's about issues, it's about who's best equipped to lead. It's about our lives.
Education. Economy. Environment. Health care. National security. The war in Iraq. Social Security. Abortion. Same-sex marriage. The right to bear arms.
Regardless of your party affiliation, regardless of your top issues, take the time to learn each candidate's position on them. We all get the same choices, the same vote. Decide what issues you care most about, how those issues impact your everyday life, and learn which candidate has the closest position to yours. Then go to the polls with an informed vote to cast. Not a red vote or a blue vote, an informed vote. Whatever choice you make, though, remember... this is your life. This is your future. This is your America. But this is absolutely not a game.
(Stepping down off my soapbox, at least for now....)
Monday, August 25, 2008
Independence Day
A memo sent home on Friday from my daughter's elementary school:
Sounds simple enough, eh? If you're the kid, maybe. But when you're the mom?!? **sniff, sniff**
Rachel did great. We hugged and kissed before we left the house, since I knew I'd have to pull up, let her out, and then keep moving. (There's a line and order to maintain, you know!) She had a huge smile and a big wave as she and her larger-than-life princess backpack skipped down the sidewalk and into the front doors where the principal was standing watch. I knew she was happy, I knew she was brave, I knew she was safe. She was certainly fine, but it was still all I could do not to cry the entire way to work.
There's a tiny little part of me that wishes she still "needed" me more, and I try to let that tiny little part be completely overshadowed by the joy and pride of knowing that I raised a good kid, a brave kid, a strong kid, a happy kid. But it's still really hard on a mom, ya know?!?
The past few weeks have been difficult for me. Rachel fell at summer camp and required 7 stitches in her chin. Then came her 5th birthday party, with 60+ people at our house. Then back to school, which was exciting and scary for all of us. Then at work, I had to let 2 people go due to the economic downturn, and have wondered if I'll still have a job by the time this year is through, for the very same reason. There's a lot going on, a lot to bog a gal down, and it's been hard to keep my head far enough above water to see the sunshine these past few weeks.
This morning, though, hard as it was to watch my little girl be so independent, I also realized that her independence was just the sunshine I've been looking for. I certainly can't take all the credit for her being so amazing... she has a great dad, a great extended family, and a great head on her shoulders. But ya know what, she's got a great mom, too. She's happy, she's healthy, and she's thriving. That's the brightest sunshine a lady could ask for, and if it means she's more independent from Mom in the process, then so be it.
So today, I declare Independence Day for both of us. For Rachel, it's independence from Mom walking her to her classroom. For Mom, it's independence from doubt -- doubt about if she'll be OK, doubt about whether or not we've prepared her well enough for kindergarten and all the comes with it, doubt about my own ability to handle my little girl growing up. She will be OK, we have prepared her well enough and I can handle this. I know I can, I know I can, I know I can... of course, I may be asking for support from another bag of peanut butter cookies.....
On Monday, August 25, 2008, we will celebrate our students' 'independence' by participating in our very own Independence Day. Students will be dropped off at the front of the building and walk independently to class.
Sounds simple enough, eh? If you're the kid, maybe. But when you're the mom?!? **sniff, sniff**
Rachel did great. We hugged and kissed before we left the house, since I knew I'd have to pull up, let her out, and then keep moving. (There's a line and order to maintain, you know!) She had a huge smile and a big wave as she and her larger-than-life princess backpack skipped down the sidewalk and into the front doors where the principal was standing watch. I knew she was happy, I knew she was brave, I knew she was safe. She was certainly fine, but it was still all I could do not to cry the entire way to work.
There's a tiny little part of me that wishes she still "needed" me more, and I try to let that tiny little part be completely overshadowed by the joy and pride of knowing that I raised a good kid, a brave kid, a strong kid, a happy kid. But it's still really hard on a mom, ya know?!?
The past few weeks have been difficult for me. Rachel fell at summer camp and required 7 stitches in her chin. Then came her 5th birthday party, with 60+ people at our house. Then back to school, which was exciting and scary for all of us. Then at work, I had to let 2 people go due to the economic downturn, and have wondered if I'll still have a job by the time this year is through, for the very same reason. There's a lot going on, a lot to bog a gal down, and it's been hard to keep my head far enough above water to see the sunshine these past few weeks.
This morning, though, hard as it was to watch my little girl be so independent, I also realized that her independence was just the sunshine I've been looking for. I certainly can't take all the credit for her being so amazing... she has a great dad, a great extended family, and a great head on her shoulders. But ya know what, she's got a great mom, too. She's happy, she's healthy, and she's thriving. That's the brightest sunshine a lady could ask for, and if it means she's more independent from Mom in the process, then so be it.
So today, I declare Independence Day for both of us. For Rachel, it's independence from Mom walking her to her classroom. For Mom, it's independence from doubt -- doubt about if she'll be OK, doubt about whether or not we've prepared her well enough for kindergarten and all the comes with it, doubt about my own ability to handle my little girl growing up. She will be OK, we have prepared her well enough and I can handle this. I know I can, I know I can, I know I can... of course, I may be asking for support from another bag of peanut butter cookies.....
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Kat's Key #3: Wisdom
I've posted about this one before, but it's my third key to life. To me, this is the most important one of all and if you can manage this one, you can manage pretty much anything.
Kat's Key #3: Wisdom
There's a prayer called The Serenity Prayer. Whether you're a pray-er or not, there's a great lesson in this one.
You can read my original (longer) post about this too, but here's the abridged version. (Yeah, I know, this looks pretty long... you should see the other one!)
Sometimes, things come your way that you don't plan, you don't like, you don't know how to handle. These are the bumps in the road of life, the places where the path splits, moments that can trip you up if you let them.
Sometimes, you have to accept that they are what they are, and you have to move on. They can't be changed, they can only be managed.
Sometimes, they are things you can change, if you are brave enough. Many decisions in life are not easy, the path is not paved and straight, but you know you have to take action, even when you're not feeling brave.
To me, though, the key is really the wisdom to know the difference. There's no point in spinning your wheels and wasting your energy on things out of your control. Your time and energy is better spent accepting that it is what it is, and working on a plan to move forward. For the things you do have control over, stressing and being angry usually won't help, either. Your time and energy is better spent realizing that it might be difficult, but mustering up the courage to do the things which might be hard is the only thing that will move you closer to the resolution you desire.
The problems come in when you don't know the difference between the two. If you spend time trying to change things that are out of your control, you'll only end up frustrating yourself. If you choose to accept something that you could change if you tried, you'll only end up selling yourself short.
For every situation, look at whether or not you can "fix" it. Is it in your control? Do you have the authority and the resources to make it different? If not, accept and move on. If so, be brave and start the process.
I've found that in my own life, this is priority #1 in any tough situation. My stress level is reduced and my outcomes are better. I'm a happier person when I know the difference between the two and when I'm happier, so are the people around me.
Next time you're in a tough spot, assess it honestly before moving forward. Acceptance and Courage are nothing without Wisdom, at least not in my book.
Relationships. Perception. Wisdom. These are the key to my life. What are yours?
Kat's Key #3: Wisdom
There's a prayer called The Serenity Prayer. Whether you're a pray-er or not, there's a great lesson in this one.
God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.
You can read my original (longer) post about this too, but here's the abridged version. (Yeah, I know, this looks pretty long... you should see the other one!)
Sometimes, things come your way that you don't plan, you don't like, you don't know how to handle. These are the bumps in the road of life, the places where the path splits, moments that can trip you up if you let them.
Sometimes, you have to accept that they are what they are, and you have to move on. They can't be changed, they can only be managed.
Sometimes, they are things you can change, if you are brave enough. Many decisions in life are not easy, the path is not paved and straight, but you know you have to take action, even when you're not feeling brave.
To me, though, the key is really the wisdom to know the difference. There's no point in spinning your wheels and wasting your energy on things out of your control. Your time and energy is better spent accepting that it is what it is, and working on a plan to move forward. For the things you do have control over, stressing and being angry usually won't help, either. Your time and energy is better spent realizing that it might be difficult, but mustering up the courage to do the things which might be hard is the only thing that will move you closer to the resolution you desire.
The problems come in when you don't know the difference between the two. If you spend time trying to change things that are out of your control, you'll only end up frustrating yourself. If you choose to accept something that you could change if you tried, you'll only end up selling yourself short.
For every situation, look at whether or not you can "fix" it. Is it in your control? Do you have the authority and the resources to make it different? If not, accept and move on. If so, be brave and start the process.
I've found that in my own life, this is priority #1 in any tough situation. My stress level is reduced and my outcomes are better. I'm a happier person when I know the difference between the two and when I'm happier, so are the people around me.
Next time you're in a tough spot, assess it honestly before moving forward. Acceptance and Courage are nothing without Wisdom, at least not in my book.
Relationships. Perception. Wisdom. These are the key to my life. What are yours?
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Kat's Key #2: Perception
Well, so much for posting the next two keys in the next few days. Ah, well, life happens. Better late than never, here's my next one.
I think it's always best to build relationships with people, I really think that's the key to success in life. It's true what they say, that sometimes it's really all about who you know, who you get along with, and how you interact with people. Of course, there are times that getting to "know" everyone, building individual relationships, is just not a time-effective or realistic option. Or, you have the personal relationship, and now you need a different kind or relationship. For the "quick win," I turn to perception.
Kat's Key #2: Perception
I've had co-workers comment about how in control I seem, how I'm able to take charge of a situation and drive it to resolution, that I'm able to motivate people and get them to do what I need them to do in order to get the job done. These people ask how they can also do the same thing.
Trust me, I do not always feel in control, I don't always feel like a motivator. The trick is not always to have a full grasp on the situation, but for others to perceive that you do. If you look like you've got it under control, act like you've got it under control, then others will believe you've got it under control. And if they believe it, then it becomes true.
Now, I'm not saying you should B.S. people. No trickery, no lying, no deceit. There's a fine line between taking charge and pretending to be something that you're not, that could be a detriment to someone else. However, there's nothing wrong with putting on a brave, strong, authoritative face and acting the part -- whether you fully believe it or not -- if indeed you can pull it off and get others to follow along. This is true for me at work in many cases, but is also something I use in my "real" life, too.
Just yesterday at work, I was facilitating a conference call with about 20 people. Out of the blue, one of the people on the call started arguing that the call was not necessary, the topics we were covering were not important, and everyone's time was being wasted by asking them to participate for an hour. Whoa, Nelly!!
I will admit that this call was for a project I haven't been working on for long, and the topics we were covering were new to me. I was following "the process" even though it wasn't an area I was all that familiar with, and I couldn't truly and with authority tell him he was wrong. However, I also couldn't be bullied or let this fight continue. Though I didn't necessarily disagree with his perspective, for the sake of the project and the order of the meeting, I also couldn't back down.
With authority, I explained the purpose of the call, the value it would bring and the objectives we had to accomplish. I also explained the risks of moving forward without this particular meeting and agreement, and asked if he was willing to sign off on all of those risks. Let me tell ya, I was completely nervous in saying all of this, but I put on my "I am the project manager" voice, spoke with confidence and authority, and by the end of my spiel, others were agreeing with me and backing me up. The man who had disagreed changed his mind, and the call continued.
I didn't necessarily feel in control of the situation at the time, but others perceived me as in control and therefore, I was.
Last Friday, my daughter fell at summer camp and needed stitches in her chin. Only 3 days shy of her 5th birthday, I felt awful for her. When I first saw her she wasn't bleeding anymore and the cut was covered with a band aid, but still, my instinct was to hold her tight and cry, that's what we do when someone we love is in pain. But, every mom knows that most times, we have to swallow the tears and be brave.
When the ER nurse took off the band aid and I saw the actual cut, the tears tried to make their way back. "Is it really bad, Mommy?"
I don't like to lie to my kids, but I was not about to scare her, either. "You have a big boo-boo, but the doctor's going to fix you up, good as new." She stayed calm, and I kept choking back the tears.
My knees were shaking so bad I literally couldn't make them stop when the doctor came in to start the procedure. But she could see me, so I smiled. "You're doing great, kiddo."
She was doing great. I, on the other hand, was not. I wanted to cry and scream for my poor little baby who had this giant gash on her chin and was about to get stitched up. I was not feeling brave, not feeling strong, but I tried to show her that I was. She perceived me as strong and brave and that it wasn't all that bad and therefore, she could be strong and brave, too. And she was.
Sometimes, you have to tell the inner voice to quiet down. You have to put on your game face. You have to be strong and confident and authoritative, whether you're feeling secure about it or not. If they perceive it to be true, then it becomes so.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I think it's always best to build relationships with people, I really think that's the key to success in life. It's true what they say, that sometimes it's really all about who you know, who you get along with, and how you interact with people. Of course, there are times that getting to "know" everyone, building individual relationships, is just not a time-effective or realistic option. Or, you have the personal relationship, and now you need a different kind or relationship. For the "quick win," I turn to perception.
Kat's Key #2: Perception
I've had co-workers comment about how in control I seem, how I'm able to take charge of a situation and drive it to resolution, that I'm able to motivate people and get them to do what I need them to do in order to get the job done. These people ask how they can also do the same thing.
Trust me, I do not always feel in control, I don't always feel like a motivator. The trick is not always to have a full grasp on the situation, but for others to perceive that you do. If you look like you've got it under control, act like you've got it under control, then others will believe you've got it under control. And if they believe it, then it becomes true.
Now, I'm not saying you should B.S. people. No trickery, no lying, no deceit. There's a fine line between taking charge and pretending to be something that you're not, that could be a detriment to someone else. However, there's nothing wrong with putting on a brave, strong, authoritative face and acting the part -- whether you fully believe it or not -- if indeed you can pull it off and get others to follow along. This is true for me at work in many cases, but is also something I use in my "real" life, too.
Just yesterday at work, I was facilitating a conference call with about 20 people. Out of the blue, one of the people on the call started arguing that the call was not necessary, the topics we were covering were not important, and everyone's time was being wasted by asking them to participate for an hour. Whoa, Nelly!!
I will admit that this call was for a project I haven't been working on for long, and the topics we were covering were new to me. I was following "the process" even though it wasn't an area I was all that familiar with, and I couldn't truly and with authority tell him he was wrong. However, I also couldn't be bullied or let this fight continue. Though I didn't necessarily disagree with his perspective, for the sake of the project and the order of the meeting, I also couldn't back down.
With authority, I explained the purpose of the call, the value it would bring and the objectives we had to accomplish. I also explained the risks of moving forward without this particular meeting and agreement, and asked if he was willing to sign off on all of those risks. Let me tell ya, I was completely nervous in saying all of this, but I put on my "I am the project manager" voice, spoke with confidence and authority, and by the end of my spiel, others were agreeing with me and backing me up. The man who had disagreed changed his mind, and the call continued.
I didn't necessarily feel in control of the situation at the time, but others perceived me as in control and therefore, I was.
Last Friday, my daughter fell at summer camp and needed stitches in her chin. Only 3 days shy of her 5th birthday, I felt awful for her. When I first saw her she wasn't bleeding anymore and the cut was covered with a band aid, but still, my instinct was to hold her tight and cry, that's what we do when someone we love is in pain. But, every mom knows that most times, we have to swallow the tears and be brave.
When the ER nurse took off the band aid and I saw the actual cut, the tears tried to make their way back. "Is it really bad, Mommy?"
I don't like to lie to my kids, but I was not about to scare her, either. "You have a big boo-boo, but the doctor's going to fix you up, good as new." She stayed calm, and I kept choking back the tears.
My knees were shaking so bad I literally couldn't make them stop when the doctor came in to start the procedure. But she could see me, so I smiled. "You're doing great, kiddo."
She was doing great. I, on the other hand, was not. I wanted to cry and scream for my poor little baby who had this giant gash on her chin and was about to get stitched up. I was not feeling brave, not feeling strong, but I tried to show her that I was. She perceived me as strong and brave and that it wasn't all that bad and therefore, she could be strong and brave, too. And she was.
Sometimes, you have to tell the inner voice to quiet down. You have to put on your game face. You have to be strong and confident and authoritative, whether you're feeling secure about it or not. If they perceive it to be true, then it becomes so.
Monday, August 4, 2008
Happy Birthday Rachie Roo!
I don't know where the time goes... seems like just yesterday that she was born. Six pounds, two ounces, and 3 weeks ahead of schedule. Today she turns five.Rachel is the kindest, sweetest person I know. She's smart, funny, creative, stubborn and beautiful. She's got a temper to match the fiery red hair, and a smile to make it not matter a bit. She loves pink, princesses, craft projects and chocolate. I love her beyond measure, and I can't imagine my life without her.
Friday she had an accident at summer camp, cracked the bottom of her chin on the edge of the pool. Seven stitches. She was so brave, so tough, so unlike I would have been. She has a heart of gold, a will of steel, and a courage unmatched in any child I've ever known. She amazes me daily, inspires me always, and never ceases to make my heart smile.
What a blessing she has been in my life, one I thank God for daily. The doctors told me I'd never carry a pregnancy to term, yet I've been blessed with two perfect miracles that remind me never to give up, always to look for the best in life, and never to settle for anything less than your heart can dream.
To my beautiful, amazing, sweet, funny little girl, may your life be blessed with the love, the joy and the perspective with which you have blessed mine.
Happy, Happy 5th Birthday, Rachel!
Love,
Mommy
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Kat's Key #1: Relationships
Part of my job involves mentoring people, which is something I've always enjoyed doing, even before it was part of my job. A lot of people throughout my career have asked what the "keys to success" are. Ah, if "success" was only that easy! Over the years, though, I've found 3 things that I always come back to, and I think they apply just as much to "real life" as they do to my career. Over the next few days, I'll share them here. Certainly not rocket science, just my two cents on the secret to "success" in navigating through life.
Kat's Key #1: Relationships
"Relationships" can mean a lot of different things in a lot of different contexts. For purposes of this Key, it's really defined as "interactions between people."
Over the past 10 years, I've spent time working for a number of different clients, in different industries in different parts of the country. One of my most challenging clients was a banking client in the southern U.S. The group of people I was working with was very much the same in many ways -- all men, all old enough to be my father, and none of them all that excited to be working with a 20-something blond chic from New York City. Trust me, there were no pleased looks when I walked in the room. Didn't matter that my work was stellar and that I brought a skill set their own employees didn't have, it only mattered that I was young, I was blond, I was a Yankee and worst of all, I was a woman.
Over time, most of them learned to tolerate me, they even spoke to me like a human being. But there was this one guy, we'll call him Mike (name changed to protect his identity), who just wouldn't budge. Not an inch. In meetings, I'd ask a question and he'd turn and look at someone else as he was giving the answer. I could ask what color the sky was, and Mike would turn to the guy next to him and say, "The sky is blue." Clearly, this was not an effective working relationship. I decided to make this relationship my "special project."
I started asking around. Mike had 2 grown sons (I didn't have any kids yet). He was from Alabama (I was from New York). He was a huge NASCAR fan. NASCAR? NASCAR!
I found out who is favorite driver was. I found out he was going to a race in a few weeks. And then I started Googling. And watching ESPN Sports Center. I called my brother, who could explain the difference between NASCAR and Monster Trucks and Indy in terms I could understand. (Did I mention that NASCAR was not a world I knew??)
The next time we were in a meeting together, I intentionally sat next to Mike. He didn't look at me. I took a deep breath, said a little prayer, and went out on a limb.
"So Mike, I hear you're headed to Talladega. Do you go every year?"
Slowly, he turned to look at me. No smile, but eye contact was a start.
"Yes, since my boys were little," he said.
"I'm not too far from Homestead (Miami Speedway)," I told him.
"I was there for the first race of the Busch series when the track opened in '95," he told me.
"Dale Jarrett won that race, right?" I asked him, hoping beyond hope that I was remembering that correctly.
He looked at me for a minute, gave me the up and down with his eyes, paused as if he was deciding whether or not to take the plunge and then he responded, "Impressive!"
***PHEW!!!***
Now, Mike and I certainly didn't become "friends" after that, and there wasn't a whole lot of chatting at the water cooler. He was still much more senior, I was still the young blond chic from New York. But, I made sure to find out who won the weekend's race before every meeting with him, and I knew where the next race was going to be held. Suddenly, he looked at me when he answered my questions. He responded to my emails. He answered the phone when I called. And he stopped referring to me as "her" in the meetings.
Over time, he grew to trust me, and I to trust him. It went from superficial chatter about race cars, which is the key that opened the door, to a full-on, effective working relationship. Sometimes all it takes is to get your foot through the door. Mike became an advocate for me, my team, and the work we were doing. He encouraged other people to do the same, and he went to bat for me when I needed it. Again, didn't make him my "friend," but it definitely made him my ally.
I've done the same kind of thing with baseball, hockey, designer handbags, breast pumps (yes, breast pumps!) and wine (I don't recommend the wine one -- there's more to know than colors!). In "real life," I've built relationships (simple as they may be) with the mean receptionist at my dentist's office ("I love that necklace, where did you get it?") and the security guard in my office building ("I brought in bagels, would you like one?") and a co-worker who doesn't like anyone ("Congratulations on your wedding! Where did you Honeymoon? Grand Cayman? Did you swim with the stingrays? Awesome, isn't it?")
Sometimes it takes a lot of work and a lot of planning, sometimes it just takes a few genuine words. (People know when you're BS-ing them, and they that's sure to backfire on you!) It doesn't have to be an emotional connection, just something in common that you can make small talk about. Once you're "human," the rest will follow.
So key #1, it's all about relationships. Get to know a person, treat them like you want to be treated, allow them to count on you and to trust you, and show them you're willing to do the same. It's amazing what you can get from an ally that you'll never get from a stranger.
Who are you going to get to know today?
Kat's Key #1: Relationships
"Relationships" can mean a lot of different things in a lot of different contexts. For purposes of this Key, it's really defined as "interactions between people."
Over the past 10 years, I've spent time working for a number of different clients, in different industries in different parts of the country. One of my most challenging clients was a banking client in the southern U.S. The group of people I was working with was very much the same in many ways -- all men, all old enough to be my father, and none of them all that excited to be working with a 20-something blond chic from New York City. Trust me, there were no pleased looks when I walked in the room. Didn't matter that my work was stellar and that I brought a skill set their own employees didn't have, it only mattered that I was young, I was blond, I was a Yankee and worst of all, I was a woman.
Over time, most of them learned to tolerate me, they even spoke to me like a human being. But there was this one guy, we'll call him Mike (name changed to protect his identity), who just wouldn't budge. Not an inch. In meetings, I'd ask a question and he'd turn and look at someone else as he was giving the answer. I could ask what color the sky was, and Mike would turn to the guy next to him and say, "The sky is blue." Clearly, this was not an effective working relationship. I decided to make this relationship my "special project."
I started asking around. Mike had 2 grown sons (I didn't have any kids yet). He was from Alabama (I was from New York). He was a huge NASCAR fan. NASCAR? NASCAR!
I found out who is favorite driver was. I found out he was going to a race in a few weeks. And then I started Googling. And watching ESPN Sports Center. I called my brother, who could explain the difference between NASCAR and Monster Trucks and Indy in terms I could understand. (Did I mention that NASCAR was not a world I knew??)
The next time we were in a meeting together, I intentionally sat next to Mike. He didn't look at me. I took a deep breath, said a little prayer, and went out on a limb.
"So Mike, I hear you're headed to Talladega. Do you go every year?"
Slowly, he turned to look at me. No smile, but eye contact was a start.
"Yes, since my boys were little," he said.
"I'm not too far from Homestead (Miami Speedway)," I told him.
"I was there for the first race of the Busch series when the track opened in '95," he told me.
"Dale Jarrett won that race, right?" I asked him, hoping beyond hope that I was remembering that correctly.
He looked at me for a minute, gave me the up and down with his eyes, paused as if he was deciding whether or not to take the plunge and then he responded, "Impressive!"
***PHEW!!!***
Now, Mike and I certainly didn't become "friends" after that, and there wasn't a whole lot of chatting at the water cooler. He was still much more senior, I was still the young blond chic from New York. But, I made sure to find out who won the weekend's race before every meeting with him, and I knew where the next race was going to be held. Suddenly, he looked at me when he answered my questions. He responded to my emails. He answered the phone when I called. And he stopped referring to me as "her" in the meetings.
Over time, he grew to trust me, and I to trust him. It went from superficial chatter about race cars, which is the key that opened the door, to a full-on, effective working relationship. Sometimes all it takes is to get your foot through the door. Mike became an advocate for me, my team, and the work we were doing. He encouraged other people to do the same, and he went to bat for me when I needed it. Again, didn't make him my "friend," but it definitely made him my ally.
I've done the same kind of thing with baseball, hockey, designer handbags, breast pumps (yes, breast pumps!) and wine (I don't recommend the wine one -- there's more to know than colors!). In "real life," I've built relationships (simple as they may be) with the mean receptionist at my dentist's office ("I love that necklace, where did you get it?") and the security guard in my office building ("I brought in bagels, would you like one?") and a co-worker who doesn't like anyone ("Congratulations on your wedding! Where did you Honeymoon? Grand Cayman? Did you swim with the stingrays? Awesome, isn't it?")
Sometimes it takes a lot of work and a lot of planning, sometimes it just takes a few genuine words. (People know when you're BS-ing them, and they that's sure to backfire on you!) It doesn't have to be an emotional connection, just something in common that you can make small talk about. Once you're "human," the rest will follow.
So key #1, it's all about relationships. Get to know a person, treat them like you want to be treated, allow them to count on you and to trust you, and show them you're willing to do the same. It's amazing what you can get from an ally that you'll never get from a stranger.
Who are you going to get to know today?
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Shameless Plug and Linky Love
I started a new blog. "Why?" you ask. Yes, I already had two. It's because I have so much free time and nothing else to do! (yeah, right)
Actually, I'm going to make you go over there and see if for yourself... if it's doing it's job, you'll be able to see pretty easily what it's all about. Know that what I'm trying to accomplish over there is very important to me and I hope that you'll find meaning in it, too.
Big thanks to both Julie and Luanne for helping me "advertise" my new venture... your support means the world to me and I appreciate it more than you know!
So go now, click on this link, and let me know what you think!
Actually, I'm going to make you go over there and see if for yourself... if it's doing it's job, you'll be able to see pretty easily what it's all about. Know that what I'm trying to accomplish over there is very important to me and I hope that you'll find meaning in it, too.
Big thanks to both Julie and Luanne for helping me "advertise" my new venture... your support means the world to me and I appreciate it more than you know!
So go now, click on this link, and let me know what you think!
.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Scary Story
My good friend Julie over at The Surrendered Scribe tagged me a while back to write a scary story, as part of a blog tour meme. Please don't look at the date of her post / tag.... Julie is the kind of friend who loves me even though "time" and I don't always get along, and most days I advocate the "better late than never?!?!?" approach to blogging. (Thank you for that, Julie!)
Her post was in response to the Mike Dellosso The Hunted blog tour meme -- what's your scariest experience? Hers really was scary, but mine's going to be a little bit different. Here goes....
My (almost) 5 year old daughter, Rachel, has an on again / off again fear of the dark. Thanks to cartoons they watch at daycare, she's added "spooky" to her list of favorite words. From time to time, she'll resist going to bed because the closet is open or a shadow looks "spooky" or she wants the door open more or where is her flashlight? or what is that light I see outside?
To help make her more comfortable, we have 2 nightlights in her room at all times. One is the standard plug-in nightlight that is light sensitive, so it comes on in the dark and goes off when it's light. She also has a low-watt princess lamp on her nightstand which we let her keep on all night, plus several flashlights in strategic places around her room.
One of her favorite flashlights is a plastic pig-shaped one, that Aunt Brenda gave her as a gift a few years back. There's a handle on the back and when you squeeze it, the pig's mouth opens to reveal the light, which stays on for 2 minutes before shutting itself off.
A few weeks ago, I was sound asleep when I heard something bump into the door frame of my bedroom. I heard someone walking toward the bed. I rolled over and sleepily opened my eyes to see who was there, when BAM! I came face to face with the brightest light I had ever seen at 3am, shining directly into my face like I was about to be interrogated. Half asleep, my heart instinctively started to beat faster, my mind started to race. Someone was in my bedroom, ready to.... what? Rob me? Kill me? Steal my children? I was blinded, I couldn't see who it was. I was scared and I didn't know what to do.
"Who's there?!?" I demanded, at the same time trying to kick Husband so he'd wake up and protect me from this evil burglar who had invaded our home and was ready to destroy our family and steal all of our worldly possessions.
"Oink! Oink!" came the response.
**sigh**
True story....
Her post was in response to the Mike Dellosso The Hunted blog tour meme -- what's your scariest experience? Hers really was scary, but mine's going to be a little bit different. Here goes....
My (almost) 5 year old daughter, Rachel, has an on again / off again fear of the dark. Thanks to cartoons they watch at daycare, she's added "spooky" to her list of favorite words. From time to time, she'll resist going to bed because the closet is open or a shadow looks "spooky" or she wants the door open more or where is her flashlight? or what is that light I see outside?
To help make her more comfortable, we have 2 nightlights in her room at all times. One is the standard plug-in nightlight that is light sensitive, so it comes on in the dark and goes off when it's light. She also has a low-watt princess lamp on her nightstand which we let her keep on all night, plus several flashlights in strategic places around her room.
One of her favorite flashlights is a plastic pig-shaped one, that Aunt Brenda gave her as a gift a few years back. There's a handle on the back and when you squeeze it, the pig's mouth opens to reveal the light, which stays on for 2 minutes before shutting itself off.
A few weeks ago, I was sound asleep when I heard something bump into the door frame of my bedroom. I heard someone walking toward the bed. I rolled over and sleepily opened my eyes to see who was there, when BAM! I came face to face with the brightest light I had ever seen at 3am, shining directly into my face like I was about to be interrogated. Half asleep, my heart instinctively started to beat faster, my mind started to race. Someone was in my bedroom, ready to.... what? Rob me? Kill me? Steal my children? I was blinded, I couldn't see who it was. I was scared and I didn't know what to do.
"Who's there?!?" I demanded, at the same time trying to kick Husband so he'd wake up and protect me from this evil burglar who had invaded our home and was ready to destroy our family and steal all of our worldly possessions.
"Oink! Oink!" came the response.
**sigh**
True story....
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
The Best Accessory
The first time she asked me to wear the necklace to work, I hesitated. I'd watched her tiny hands concentrate for an hour on stringing those plastic beads patiently onto a piece of white yarn, grimacing each time one fell yet diligently persevering. My heart smiled when she announced at the end, "I made this for you, Mommy!"
Indeed, it was a beautiful work of art for a 3-year-old, just not quite the type of thing that went well with my much more "professional" work clothes. But the sad look on her face as my mind raced on how to tell her it was really better to save it for an "at home only necklace" had me saying, "of course I'll wear it!" before I knew it.
I placed the necklace on the passenger's seat before getting out of my car at the office. "Don't forget to put that back on when you get home!" I told myself.
Entering the house after work, I heard the eager pitter-patter of little footsteps running to greet me. In an instant, though, her sad eyes told me that I hadn't remembered to put it back on, and I'd been caught. I could hear her heart sinking as she sadly asked the questions. "Didn't you wear my necklace to work, Mommy? Where is it?"
My heart sank right along with hers. Afraid to look silly at the office, I'd made a promise that I never intended to keep. And in the process, I'd broken her heart. I made myself a new promise right then and there that looking silly didn't matter nearly as much as that beautiful little face, and the pride I knew her heart would feel when I could, with a clear conscience, tell her that yes, I wore her necklace to work, all day long.
My made-with-love-by-Rachel necklace collection is up to at least 1/2 dozen, with several bracelets, as well. I have jewelry made of macaroni, cut up straws, beads, lace, ribbons and plastic trim. She knows that the bead necklace matches the purple shirt, the straw necklace matches the red shirt, and the macaroni goes with most anything. When she sees me wearing one of those tops, she asks me to put on a necklace. I do it, every single time, and I wear it all day long.
I used to be one of those people who are now giving me odd glances, perhaps chuckling a bit, or asking why I'm wearing pasta around my neck. But then there are the other mothers in my office, who give me a smile and a nod, and who know exactly why I've got this on and why "beautiful and loving" and not "silly and inappropriate" is the proper way to describe my accessories.
I'm sure I'll continue to promise that "someday" we'll go to see the pyramids, even though I'm not sure if I mean it. I'll still tell her we're out of M&Ms when I think she's had enough, rather than explain why she just can't have any more. And yes, Rachel, there is a Tooth Fairy and an Easter Bunny and Dumbo can really fly.
But the necklaces? Such a small request to accommodate yet such an important promise to keep. Certainly not worth fibbing about, and I'll never, ever do it again.
Next time you see a parent with a silly hat or a necklace made of straws or Nemo stickers all over their shirt, don't laugh. Instead, smile and nod, and know that's a promise kept to a very proud child. Myself, I can't think of any accessory more beautiful than a child's smile, can you?
Indeed, it was a beautiful work of art for a 3-year-old, just not quite the type of thing that went well with my much more "professional" work clothes. But the sad look on her face as my mind raced on how to tell her it was really better to save it for an "at home only necklace" had me saying, "of course I'll wear it!" before I knew it.
I placed the necklace on the passenger's seat before getting out of my car at the office. "Don't forget to put that back on when you get home!" I told myself.
Entering the house after work, I heard the eager pitter-patter of little footsteps running to greet me. In an instant, though, her sad eyes told me that I hadn't remembered to put it back on, and I'd been caught. I could hear her heart sinking as she sadly asked the questions. "Didn't you wear my necklace to work, Mommy? Where is it?"
My heart sank right along with hers. Afraid to look silly at the office, I'd made a promise that I never intended to keep. And in the process, I'd broken her heart. I made myself a new promise right then and there that looking silly didn't matter nearly as much as that beautiful little face, and the pride I knew her heart would feel when I could, with a clear conscience, tell her that yes, I wore her necklace to work, all day long.
My made-with-love-by-Rachel necklace collection is up to at least 1/2 dozen, with several bracelets, as well. I have jewelry made of macaroni, cut up straws, beads, lace, ribbons and plastic trim. She knows that the bead necklace matches the purple shirt, the straw necklace matches the red shirt, and the macaroni goes with most anything. When she sees me wearing one of those tops, she asks me to put on a necklace. I do it, every single time, and I wear it all day long.
I used to be one of those people who are now giving me odd glances, perhaps chuckling a bit, or asking why I'm wearing pasta around my neck. But then there are the other mothers in my office, who give me a smile and a nod, and who know exactly why I've got this on and why "beautiful and loving" and not "silly and inappropriate" is the proper way to describe my accessories.
I'm sure I'll continue to promise that "someday" we'll go to see the pyramids, even though I'm not sure if I mean it. I'll still tell her we're out of M&Ms when I think she's had enough, rather than explain why she just can't have any more. And yes, Rachel, there is a Tooth Fairy and an Easter Bunny and Dumbo can really fly.
But the necklaces? Such a small request to accommodate yet such an important promise to keep. Certainly not worth fibbing about, and I'll never, ever do it again.
Next time you see a parent with a silly hat or a necklace made of straws or Nemo stickers all over their shirt, don't laugh. Instead, smile and nod, and know that's a promise kept to a very proud child. Myself, I can't think of any accessory more beautiful than a child's smile, can you?
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Happy Birthday, Boo Bear!
We named her Jessica Danielle, after Craig's Aunt Joann and Grandpa Dominic, but we just call her Boo Bear. She has my hair color, eye color, and stubborn determination. She has her father's body type, smile and fun-loving personality. She has her sister's love of tea parties and all things Disney. She has her own sense of adventure, twinkling eyes and aren't-I-cute-as-I-wreak-lots-of-havoc personality. She's our little baby girl, and today she turns two.
She was born on her own terms, her own timing, almost 3 full weeks early. She weighed in at 6 pounds, 6 ounces and was 19 1/4 inches long.
Her 6th and 7th week on this earth were the longest two weeks of my life. Her acid reflux left her in so much pain that she'd scream the moment you laid her down. I held her for two weeks straight, no exaggeration. We slept sitting up in the recliner, she showered with me, she never, ever left my arms. At 8 weeks I took her to the pediatrician (for the ump-teenth time), I was in tears. "Watch what happens when I lay her down," I told him. I put her on the exam table, expecting her to scream. She smiled at us both. From that day on, she was fine. Life is on Jessica's terms... always has been, probably always will be.
Beginning around her 15 month checkup, the pediatrician noticed that she was not gaining weight on average with other kids her age. We went through a long period of close monitoring, some tests, and fed her everything in sight. She remained happy, active and ate like a horse, she just didn't gain weight. Until she was ready. Once again, life on Jessica's terms... always has been, probably always will be.
Those excruciatingly long 2 weeks, and now I look back and can't believe it's been 2 years since the day she was born. Where does the time go? I'm afraid to blink, we'll be watching her graduate from college before I know it.
Life would certainly not be complete without our little ray of sunshine, who keeps us on our toes, exhausts us to no end, but fills our home with laughter, love and non-stop action. She and her sister are the loves our our lives, the meaning for our existence, and our constant reminder that you never need to look farther than the walls of your own home to see all that is good and right in this world. Perspective, love, adorableness and fun... those are just some of the gifts that she gives to us daily.
To my little Bessie Boo Boo Bear, may may your life be blessed with the same wonderful joys you give to us each and every day. Happy, Happy 2nd Birthday!
All my love,
Mommy
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
My Kent
Luanne had a great post the other day, I encourage you to take a minute to go over to her blog and read it before you finish reading this. It came at a perfect time for me and though at first it appears to be about a horse (Big Brown) and a jockey (Kent Desormeaux), there's so much more to it than that. It's about having someone in your life who knows that, no matter how much pressure there is and how much potential you might have to meet everyone's expectations, we all need someone who knows when today just isn't our day to win the race, and lets us off the hook.
My Kent is named Brenda. Her parents and my parents were friends from church before I was born, so I've known Brenda for, well, I don't remember not knowing Brenda. She's a little bit older than me and over the course of my life she's been my babysitter, my big sister, my other mother and the best kind of friend. We've been through pretty much everything there is to be through together. I've had the pleasure of watching her boys grow into amazing young men, and have had my own chance to be their babysitter and big sister, just like their mom was to me.
Brenda fed me extra fudgesicles and helped me learn to swim in her parent's pool. She did my hair (much to my dad's dismay sometimes!), painted my nails and did my makeup when I was still young enough that those things were a HUGE treat. She took me shopping for prom dresses and did my hair for the Big Night. She was my Matron of Honor when I married the love of my life. She's prayed and hugged and laughed and cried and supported me through my cancer scare, my career challenges, my Big Move to Florida, the birth of my children and everything in between. Her love and support and "making sure Kat puts herself first" are without fail, without condition, without question.
But what makes Brenda most remarkable is that even from 1360 miles away, she still knows when I need a hug. She still knows when I'm over-doing it, she still knows when I need a break. And she's not afraid to call me on it. She knows that even though my potential is there, the expectation is there, that every so often, I just can't do it all. She reminds me to ease up, to take a break, that it's OK to not win all the races all the time. And she means it. And when she says it, I believe it.
Luanne, thank you for your post and the great reminder and perspective.
And Brenda, my wonderful, amazing Brenda... thank you today, tomorrow and always for being there for me, for being my Kent.
My Kent is named Brenda. Her parents and my parents were friends from church before I was born, so I've known Brenda for, well, I don't remember not knowing Brenda. She's a little bit older than me and over the course of my life she's been my babysitter, my big sister, my other mother and the best kind of friend. We've been through pretty much everything there is to be through together. I've had the pleasure of watching her boys grow into amazing young men, and have had my own chance to be their babysitter and big sister, just like their mom was to me.
Brenda fed me extra fudgesicles and helped me learn to swim in her parent's pool. She did my hair (much to my dad's dismay sometimes!), painted my nails and did my makeup when I was still young enough that those things were a HUGE treat. She took me shopping for prom dresses and did my hair for the Big Night. She was my Matron of Honor when I married the love of my life. She's prayed and hugged and laughed and cried and supported me through my cancer scare, my career challenges, my Big Move to Florida, the birth of my children and everything in between. Her love and support and "making sure Kat puts herself first" are without fail, without condition, without question.
But what makes Brenda most remarkable is that even from 1360 miles away, she still knows when I need a hug. She still knows when I'm over-doing it, she still knows when I need a break. And she's not afraid to call me on it. She knows that even though my potential is there, the expectation is there, that every so often, I just can't do it all. She reminds me to ease up, to take a break, that it's OK to not win all the races all the time. And she means it. And when she says it, I believe it.
Luanne, thank you for your post and the great reminder and perspective.
And Brenda, my wonderful, amazing Brenda... thank you today, tomorrow and always for being there for me, for being my Kent.
Friday, June 6, 2008
Voice: Found!
Alas, I've been MIA for a while. May was a tough month for me, I didn't have the time or the energy to blog much. However, I'd promised Julie a post for her blog (see why here), and spent most of the month struggling with that. Just when I was about to give up, though, I found my voice. It was in a place I didn't even think to look and it snuck up on me. I'm so glad that it did, it gave me renewed perspective which apparently, had been a bit misplaced. You can read my story over on Julie's blog, The Surrendered Scribe.
Now that my voice has been found, though, I'm full speed ahead! Look for a new post on my 5Things blog, and more frequent activity right here. Oh, and Julie tagged me to write a scary story, so I'm working on that, too!
Happy June, everyone!
Now that my voice has been found, though, I'm full speed ahead! Look for a new post on my 5Things blog, and more frequent activity right here. Oh, and Julie tagged me to write a scary story, so I'm working on that, too!
Happy June, everyone!
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Moments that make your heart smile
I'm sure it's true for all parents, but as a mom, I know I definitely have my moments when it comes to the kids...
... Moments where I'm brimming with pride, for something they've accomplished on their own.
... Moments where my heart breaks for the pain I can't take away.
... Moments where my heart stops when they're not in the place where I left them, or I have one of those illogical "something awful has happened to them" dreams.
... Moments where I can't decide whether to celebrate with laughter or cry with a touch of sadness at the milestone they've reached, which means my "baby" is growing up.
... Moments that I can't categorize in any other way, except that they make my heart smile.
Besides being a mom, I also have a full-time, outside-the-home job. Our schedules are hectic enough, and with commute times we (the whole family) are out of the house close to 12 hours/day every day during the week. On top of that, I find myself leaving early or working late at least once a week. I always try to prep the family in advance for this, especially Rachel.
"I'm going to come give you a big hug and kiss before I go, but I have a work meeting in the morning so I have to leave early and you might not be up yet."
or
"I promise to come tuck you in and read you a story soon, but I need you to play quietly for just a little bit because I have a work meeting on the phone right now."
After a long weekend at Disney World, we decided the kids should go to bed a bit early last night. I could tell that Rachel was not excited about this, and she was restless when I tucked her into bed. She poked her head out of her room once, I tucked her back in. She tossed and turned. I tucked her back in. I peeked into her room one last time before going downstairs to watch TV with hubby, and my heart stopped for a second when I saw her empty bed. She couldn't have gone anywhere, I was in the office right outside her bedroom, but it's that initial "Oh my God, she's not where I left her" panic that we parents can't seem to shake.
It only took about 3 seconds for her to emerge from her closet, see me and jump - I'd startled her. She was holding the bottom corners of a t-shirt, upside down, yet very precisely. Odd, this is a kid who hates to wear shirts and pants, only dresses.
I watched her walk to her bed, where she very carefully laid this t-shirt on a stack of 3 other t-shirts, precisely over top of the one below, and smoothed out all the wrinkles.
"Rach, what are you doing with the shirts?"
"I'm getting ready, Mom, so I don't have to get up so early."
"Ready for what, Rachel?"
"A work meeting."
I wanted to be mad at her for being out of bed, for playing with clothes she has no intention of wearing, preparing for a "meeting" she doesn't really have. But I couldn't be mad, it was just too cute.
I convinced her to move the pile of shirts off the bed and onto the floor, with the promise that I would leave them there until morning. I tucked her back in (again!) and went downstairs to watch TV.
Before I went to bed, I went in to give her one last kiss. Apparently, she had finished the preparations for her work meeting:
I'm not sure why, but something about this sight brought a smile to my face and a smile to my heart. I can't explain it, and hubby certainly didn't understand my urge to scoop Rachel up, hug her until she burst and tell her how happy she makes me. Maybe no one else will understand either.... but this, my friends, was a moment that made my heart smile.
... Moments where I'm brimming with pride, for something they've accomplished on their own.
... Moments where my heart breaks for the pain I can't take away.
... Moments where my heart stops when they're not in the place where I left them, or I have one of those illogical "something awful has happened to them" dreams.
... Moments where I can't decide whether to celebrate with laughter or cry with a touch of sadness at the milestone they've reached, which means my "baby" is growing up.
... Moments that I can't categorize in any other way, except that they make my heart smile.
Besides being a mom, I also have a full-time, outside-the-home job. Our schedules are hectic enough, and with commute times we (the whole family) are out of the house close to 12 hours/day every day during the week. On top of that, I find myself leaving early or working late at least once a week. I always try to prep the family in advance for this, especially Rachel.
"I'm going to come give you a big hug and kiss before I go, but I have a work meeting in the morning so I have to leave early and you might not be up yet."
or
"I promise to come tuck you in and read you a story soon, but I need you to play quietly for just a little bit because I have a work meeting on the phone right now."
After a long weekend at Disney World, we decided the kids should go to bed a bit early last night. I could tell that Rachel was not excited about this, and she was restless when I tucked her into bed. She poked her head out of her room once, I tucked her back in. She tossed and turned. I tucked her back in. I peeked into her room one last time before going downstairs to watch TV with hubby, and my heart stopped for a second when I saw her empty bed. She couldn't have gone anywhere, I was in the office right outside her bedroom, but it's that initial "Oh my God, she's not where I left her" panic that we parents can't seem to shake.
It only took about 3 seconds for her to emerge from her closet, see me and jump - I'd startled her. She was holding the bottom corners of a t-shirt, upside down, yet very precisely. Odd, this is a kid who hates to wear shirts and pants, only dresses.
I watched her walk to her bed, where she very carefully laid this t-shirt on a stack of 3 other t-shirts, precisely over top of the one below, and smoothed out all the wrinkles.
"Rach, what are you doing with the shirts?"
"I'm getting ready, Mom, so I don't have to get up so early."
"Ready for what, Rachel?"
"A work meeting."
I wanted to be mad at her for being out of bed, for playing with clothes she has no intention of wearing, preparing for a "meeting" she doesn't really have. But I couldn't be mad, it was just too cute.
I convinced her to move the pile of shirts off the bed and onto the floor, with the promise that I would leave them there until morning. I tucked her back in (again!) and went downstairs to watch TV.
Before I went to bed, I went in to give her one last kiss. Apparently, she had finished the preparations for her work meeting:
I'm not sure why, but something about this sight brought a smile to my face and a smile to my heart. I can't explain it, and hubby certainly didn't understand my urge to scoop Rachel up, hug her until she burst and tell her how happy she makes me. Maybe no one else will understand either.... but this, my friends, was a moment that made my heart smile.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I just had to add that it was 8 years ago today that I married the love of my life, who built this amazing family with me, to give me endless, priceless, makes-my-heart-smile-moments.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Proud Mama!
I suppose I should start by saying that I'm a bit ashamed to have been so weak in this area to begin with, but the pride wins out, so I just don't care...
Rachel was 2 months old before we gave her a pacifier. We didn't want to, she didn't seem to need it, and we weren't gonna do it. Ever. Right....
She was such a LOUD sleeper as a baby, in the cradle next to our bed. She just made little noises in her sleep all the time and as new parents, of course, we jumped up for every single one of them. I clearly remember that October night, rummaging around in the dark, digging through the closet in the nursery, just positive there had to be a binky in there somewhere. Finally, I found one, it was clearly Heaven sent. She took it right away and we slept. All of us. Finally!
Fast forward a few years to the night before Easter about 5 months before she turned 3. I was 5 months pregnant and determined to break her of the binky before the new baby arrived. We had talked about how giving all of your binkies to the Easter Bunny meant he'd leave extra treats, and deliver the binkies to other babies' Easter baskets. This was all going well as she dropped each excitedly into the empty Easter basket before bed... until she got to the last one. She stopped. She looked up at me. Her eyes filled with tears. "But Mommy, this means I won't have any binkies!" Yes, dear, that's the point!
I looked at hubby, he looked at me. I could see his response in his eyes. "This was your idea, I'm staying out of it." And then I caved. She kept the last binky. But ONLY for bed and the car.
Then baby #2 came along. She wanted NO part of the paci and still we pushed it on her, right from the get-go. She had acid reflux and wasn't comfortable for a second of the first 11 weeks of her life, unless I was holding her upright, while standing, and bouncing. I am not exaggerating when I say I held her for 2 weeks straight from 6-7 weeks old. Anyway... the paci kept her calm, so we gave it to her ALL the time. And of course, with a new baby in the house who required constant attention, we were willing to "overlook" Rachel's increased (outside the bed and the car) use of the binky. A lot.
We finally weaned her back to "only" her two permitted spots. She turned 3 with the binky. And then 4. And then I'd had enough. MORE than enough. However, even the mere mention of taking it away elicited the most pained, tortured, someone-just-shot-my-best-friend sort of response. I wanted it gone, at any price. But hubby, who takes her and her binky-wielding little sister back and forth to school each day (45+ minutes each way) was not prepared to play along.
And then she lost it. Literally.
Last Thursday night, as I was tucking her in and she was saying goodnight through the binky (I hate that!) I mentioned again that soon, we'd need to get rid of it. She'll be 5 in August for cryin' out loud! Again, I got "the" response. Of course.
2am, she shuffles in to our room. "Daddy, I can't find my bee-bee." Daddy rolls out of bed, trudges into her room to help her find it, it's usually buried under covers or on the floor between the bed and the wall. Only this time, it wasn't. He told her just to go to sleep, she'd live.
Until 3am, when she shuffles back in to the room. "Daddy, I still can't find my bee-bee."
"Go to bed, Rachel, you'll find it in the morning."
Tears. Little feet shuffling back to her bed, whimpering softly. My heart breaking, yet determined to stay strong. The child will not die if she has to make it through the rest of the night without a piece of plastic in her mouth.
Until 5am, when she shuffles to my side of the bed. I send her away. It hurt me, but I did it.
45 minutes later, she finds me downstairs making my coffee. "Mommy...."
I trudge upstairs to help her find the binky. I can't find it. Did she swallow the thing?? It is no where to be found, literally.
I think quickly and decide to use the opportunity, as any self-serving yet brilliant mother would.
"Rachel, do you know what this means?!?! You did it! You went a night without your binky! You're a big girl now!!!"
"I am?" comes the soft response, full of wonder, amazement, and verging on tears.
"Yes, you did!!" ((((Big hugs!!))))
She's not sure, but that's it, no turning back now. She got upset getting in the car to go to school, but I made sure to give hubby the "if you slip her the binky that I know you have hidden in your pocket, you will be sleeping on the couch for a week" look. And guess what? She did it! Again! All the way to school, no binky. On the ride home, she didn't even ask for it. And she hasn't asked for it since. Over four years of trying to get that thing away from her, and all it took was for it to literally disappear in the middle of the night. Why did I not think of that myself?!?!?
Honestly, I don't have a clue where it went. I've pulled her room apart, I can't find the silly thing. Maybe she's hidden it and pulls it out after I go to sleep, who knows. All I know is that I can see her smile and hear her voice, and it's the most beautiful thing ever.
One kid down, one to go....
Rachel was 2 months old before we gave her a pacifier. We didn't want to, she didn't seem to need it, and we weren't gonna do it. Ever. Right....
She was such a LOUD sleeper as a baby, in the cradle next to our bed. She just made little noises in her sleep all the time and as new parents, of course, we jumped up for every single one of them. I clearly remember that October night, rummaging around in the dark, digging through the closet in the nursery, just positive there had to be a binky in there somewhere. Finally, I found one, it was clearly Heaven sent. She took it right away and we slept. All of us. Finally!
Fast forward a few years to the night before Easter about 5 months before she turned 3. I was 5 months pregnant and determined to break her of the binky before the new baby arrived. We had talked about how giving all of your binkies to the Easter Bunny meant he'd leave extra treats, and deliver the binkies to other babies' Easter baskets. This was all going well as she dropped each excitedly into the empty Easter basket before bed... until she got to the last one. She stopped. She looked up at me. Her eyes filled with tears. "But Mommy, this means I won't have any binkies!" Yes, dear, that's the point!
I looked at hubby, he looked at me. I could see his response in his eyes. "This was your idea, I'm staying out of it." And then I caved. She kept the last binky. But ONLY for bed and the car.
Then baby #2 came along. She wanted NO part of the paci and still we pushed it on her, right from the get-go. She had acid reflux and wasn't comfortable for a second of the first 11 weeks of her life, unless I was holding her upright, while standing, and bouncing. I am not exaggerating when I say I held her for 2 weeks straight from 6-7 weeks old. Anyway... the paci kept her calm, so we gave it to her ALL the time. And of course, with a new baby in the house who required constant attention, we were willing to "overlook" Rachel's increased (outside the bed and the car) use of the binky. A lot.
We finally weaned her back to "only" her two permitted spots. She turned 3 with the binky. And then 4. And then I'd had enough. MORE than enough. However, even the mere mention of taking it away elicited the most pained, tortured, someone-just-shot-my-best-friend sort of response. I wanted it gone, at any price. But hubby, who takes her and her binky-wielding little sister back and forth to school each day (45+ minutes each way) was not prepared to play along.
And then she lost it. Literally.
Last Thursday night, as I was tucking her in and she was saying goodnight through the binky (I hate that!) I mentioned again that soon, we'd need to get rid of it. She'll be 5 in August for cryin' out loud! Again, I got "the" response. Of course.
2am, she shuffles in to our room. "Daddy, I can't find my bee-bee." Daddy rolls out of bed, trudges into her room to help her find it, it's usually buried under covers or on the floor between the bed and the wall. Only this time, it wasn't. He told her just to go to sleep, she'd live.
Until 3am, when she shuffles back in to the room. "Daddy, I still can't find my bee-bee."
"Go to bed, Rachel, you'll find it in the morning."
Tears. Little feet shuffling back to her bed, whimpering softly. My heart breaking, yet determined to stay strong. The child will not die if she has to make it through the rest of the night without a piece of plastic in her mouth.
Until 5am, when she shuffles to my side of the bed. I send her away. It hurt me, but I did it.
45 minutes later, she finds me downstairs making my coffee. "Mommy...."
I trudge upstairs to help her find the binky. I can't find it. Did she swallow the thing?? It is no where to be found, literally.
I think quickly and decide to use the opportunity, as any self-serving yet brilliant mother would.
"Rachel, do you know what this means?!?! You did it! You went a night without your binky! You're a big girl now!!!"
"I am?" comes the soft response, full of wonder, amazement, and verging on tears.
"Yes, you did!!" ((((Big hugs!!))))
She's not sure, but that's it, no turning back now. She got upset getting in the car to go to school, but I made sure to give hubby the "if you slip her the binky that I know you have hidden in your pocket, you will be sleeping on the couch for a week" look. And guess what? She did it! Again! All the way to school, no binky. On the ride home, she didn't even ask for it. And she hasn't asked for it since. Over four years of trying to get that thing away from her, and all it took was for it to literally disappear in the middle of the night. Why did I not think of that myself?!?!?
Honestly, I don't have a clue where it went. I've pulled her room apart, I can't find the silly thing. Maybe she's hidden it and pulls it out after I go to sleep, who knows. All I know is that I can see her smile and hear her voice, and it's the most beautiful thing ever.
One kid down, one to go....
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
So many things to write about but instead....
So many things I'd like to write about here, if only there was more time in a day. If I had more free time, you'd have posts on:
My family's recent trip to New York, to celebrate my grandmother's 90th birthday. I'd tell you all about how it was the first time in almost 20 years that she had both her kids and all 4 of her grandkids (including one who lives in Austria!) in the same place at the same time, with the new addition of 2 great grandkids.
The lost and then found butterfly backpack that my 4-year-old left in the Syracuse airport, and the very nice police officer who tracked down my cell phone number and returned it to me. Of course, he scolded me for not letting her have snacks in it, but both the butterfly backpack and the cherished Jasmine doll made it back to us the very same night.
The two ladybugs that I found on the slide at my grandmother's house, which reminded me that even though my grandpa's been gone almost 7 years, he's always still here with us.
The two more times that a gas station attendant kept 2 cents of my change without blinking an eye, and the 2 cents I decided to leave on the counter another day, since there's clearly a penny shortage at my local gas station's convenience store.
My frustration with the healthcare system in this country, and the rates that doctors charge vs. the rates the companies pay vs. the co-pay for which I'm responsible.
The new summer swim camp that we just signed my girls up for.
So many more things....
But instead, since my time is limited, I choose to focus it on the following:
Spending extra time hugging and loving on my girls, my husband and my family, all the while saying prayers for peace and healing for the family of Sasha, a co-worker's 18-month-old neighbor who passed away on Friday, following an accident in the family pool last month.
Being thankful that my new shoes are pinching my toes because at least it means I can walk, and saying prayers for healing for my brother-in-law Steven and sister-in-law Ana, who were badly burned on their legs on Friday by a giant pot of boiling water (150 gallons) which tipped over in an freak accident. Steven is walking with crutches, Ana remains in the trauma center.
Checking the smoke detector batteries in my house, after my long-time friend Eric and his wife lost their entire home to a fire this weekend, and saying prayers of thanks that they both (along with the dog) made it out in time, and that their son was not home when it happened.
Making a baby blanket for my friend Megan, who is due in early June, and praying that her husband gets medical answers soon. They've ruled out lung cancer, tuberculosis and a few other things, but still can't tell him why he's been sick for 2 months or what he should do to start feeling better.
Thinking of new ways I can turn my spare change into something greater, something more than pennies, since I now know that 2 cents at a time won't change my life, but might mean something to somebody else.
What have you been doing with your free time?
My family's recent trip to New York, to celebrate my grandmother's 90th birthday. I'd tell you all about how it was the first time in almost 20 years that she had both her kids and all 4 of her grandkids (including one who lives in Austria!) in the same place at the same time, with the new addition of 2 great grandkids.
The lost and then found butterfly backpack that my 4-year-old left in the Syracuse airport, and the very nice police officer who tracked down my cell phone number and returned it to me. Of course, he scolded me for not letting her have snacks in it, but both the butterfly backpack and the cherished Jasmine doll made it back to us the very same night.
The two ladybugs that I found on the slide at my grandmother's house, which reminded me that even though my grandpa's been gone almost 7 years, he's always still here with us.
The two more times that a gas station attendant kept 2 cents of my change without blinking an eye, and the 2 cents I decided to leave on the counter another day, since there's clearly a penny shortage at my local gas station's convenience store.
My frustration with the healthcare system in this country, and the rates that doctors charge vs. the rates the companies pay vs. the co-pay for which I'm responsible.
The new summer swim camp that we just signed my girls up for.
So many more things....
But instead, since my time is limited, I choose to focus it on the following:
Spending extra time hugging and loving on my girls, my husband and my family, all the while saying prayers for peace and healing for the family of Sasha, a co-worker's 18-month-old neighbor who passed away on Friday, following an accident in the family pool last month.
Being thankful that my new shoes are pinching my toes because at least it means I can walk, and saying prayers for healing for my brother-in-law Steven and sister-in-law Ana, who were badly burned on their legs on Friday by a giant pot of boiling water (150 gallons) which tipped over in an freak accident. Steven is walking with crutches, Ana remains in the trauma center.
Checking the smoke detector batteries in my house, after my long-time friend Eric and his wife lost their entire home to a fire this weekend, and saying prayers of thanks that they both (along with the dog) made it out in time, and that their son was not home when it happened.
Making a baby blanket for my friend Megan, who is due in early June, and praying that her husband gets medical answers soon. They've ruled out lung cancer, tuberculosis and a few other things, but still can't tell him why he's been sick for 2 months or what he should do to start feeling better.
Thinking of new ways I can turn my spare change into something greater, something more than pennies, since I now know that 2 cents at a time won't change my life, but might mean something to somebody else.
What have you been doing with your free time?
Monday, March 31, 2008
Alexander's Heart, by Hailey
Want to know what I want to be when I grow up? Visit Hailey's blog and you'll see. I want to be as strong, kind and wonderful as she is. She is 12, I have never met her, but I will adore her always. What she has set out to do, how she has turned a devastating loss into something good, it's truly selfless and inspiring.
Go read, she'll show you an amazing spirit we could use so much more of in this world.
Hailey, if you happen to see this post, I have a story for you, something that perhaps will give you strength when you need it. It's something so small, but to me, it's huge. Maybe when you see a ladybug, you'll know, too.
Go read, she'll show you an amazing spirit we could use so much more of in this world.
Alexander's Heart, by Hailey
Hailey, if you happen to see this post, I have a story for you, something that perhaps will give you strength when you need it. It's something so small, but to me, it's huge. Maybe when you see a ladybug, you'll know, too.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
When nice things happen
I don't even know what to say, other than this is one of the nicest surprises I've gotten in a long time and I couldn't resist sharing...
Luanne is a woman I "know" through her blog, which is on my "daily must-read list." She reads my blog (not that there's much to read these days!), I read hers, and we exchange blog comments from time to time. I know that Luanne is a Disney-aholic, and she knows that I live in Florida. We each have two daughters (she has a son, too) and we are both fans of CoolPeopleCare and CoolMomsCare.
Out of the blue today, I got an email from Luanne, an email that made my day, week and month. Turns out that Luanne had preplanned (and paid for in advance) a weekend trip to Disney World in May for the Minnie Marathon and the 5K Go Red for Women, and some of her guests aren't able to make the date. She has an extra studio booked at the Boardwalk Villas, plus two tickets to Mickey's Pirate and Princess Party, an after hours party that my daughter keeps asking to attend, and we keep saying "maybe next time."
Luanne, giant sweetheart that she is, thought of my family (who she's never even met!) and offered the room and the tickets to us, free of charge. Say what?!?!? A 3-night stay at the Boardwalk Villas plus two party tickets, for nothing? How nice is that??
I talked to my husband, made sure the weekend was clear, then very happily accepted Luanne's offer, with the caveat that I'd like to pay her for at least the tickets. She said no. The only thing she would like in return is a group picture of us from Disney, to hang in her Disney-themed guest room. (Mind you, this is a big price for me, who is not a fan of being in front of the camera, but all in all, a very small thing to ask for such a big gift!)
I am in total shock at this amazing offer, this amazing woman, this amazing act of kindness. This is a biggie, one I'm not sure many of us can match. But when nice things happen to me, it inspires me to do nice things for other people, who hopefully, will be inspired to do nice things for someone else, too. The chain of kindness, I think that's really the nicest thing of all. Luanne, thanks for being nice and passing it on!
Luanne is a woman I "know" through her blog, which is on my "daily must-read list." She reads my blog (not that there's much to read these days!), I read hers, and we exchange blog comments from time to time. I know that Luanne is a Disney-aholic, and she knows that I live in Florida. We each have two daughters (she has a son, too) and we are both fans of CoolPeopleCare and CoolMomsCare.
Out of the blue today, I got an email from Luanne, an email that made my day, week and month. Turns out that Luanne had preplanned (and paid for in advance) a weekend trip to Disney World in May for the Minnie Marathon and the 5K Go Red for Women, and some of her guests aren't able to make the date. She has an extra studio booked at the Boardwalk Villas, plus two tickets to Mickey's Pirate and Princess Party, an after hours party that my daughter keeps asking to attend, and we keep saying "maybe next time."
Luanne, giant sweetheart that she is, thought of my family (who she's never even met!) and offered the room and the tickets to us, free of charge. Say what?!?!? A 3-night stay at the Boardwalk Villas plus two party tickets, for nothing? How nice is that??
I talked to my husband, made sure the weekend was clear, then very happily accepted Luanne's offer, with the caveat that I'd like to pay her for at least the tickets. She said no. The only thing she would like in return is a group picture of us from Disney, to hang in her Disney-themed guest room. (Mind you, this is a big price for me, who is not a fan of being in front of the camera, but all in all, a very small thing to ask for such a big gift!)
I am in total shock at this amazing offer, this amazing woman, this amazing act of kindness. This is a biggie, one I'm not sure many of us can match. But when nice things happen to me, it inspires me to do nice things for other people, who hopefully, will be inspired to do nice things for someone else, too. The chain of kindness, I think that's really the nicest thing of all. Luanne, thanks for being nice and passing it on!
Thursday, February 28, 2008
The Wisdom to know the difference
I was walking down the hallway at work last week, when out of nowhere The Serenity Prayer came to me. I wasn't sure why at the time, but it's been running through my head over and over again, and I've finally figured out why God sent it my way.
If you're not familiar with the prayer, you can find the full, original version here, which was written by Reinhold Niebuhr. The most well-known (albeit abridged) version, I think, is this one, which I've known since I was a child:
Back in November, I got a promotion at work. Before this promotion, I was constantly stressed out. Too much work to get done in a day, a long commute (60 miles each way), plus two kids, a home, a husband and a dog who never got as much attention as I wanted them to have. I felt like no matter what I did or how hard I worked, I could never finish my to-do list, never leave the office feeling like I could really stop thinking about work and focus only on my family.
When the promotion came along, I was excited yet nervous. Though I'd been informally serving as a mentor to many people on my team, I was now formally "responsible" for a team of 15 people. All of them would now come to me for advice, support, guidance, problem resolution, escalation, and I had no one to send them to but myself. I love my team and I enjoy the "people part" of my job more than anything else... but to continue my current project workload plus take on a team of fifteen plus have full responsibility for the relationship with our client... wow! That's enough to overwhelm anyone, me thinks.
A few weeks into the job, I was talking with my predecessor and former boss. He asked how it was going and oddly, much as I had on my plate... I was good! Truly, honestly good! He knew I was an "always stressed out" kind of person and I he was surprised at how much more relaxed I was, even with all the new responsibility. To tell the truth, I was surprised at myself. That's where The Serenity Prayer comes in.
For as long as I can remember, my prayers ask not for understanding, not (usually) for a specific result... but instead, for acceptance of whatever situation comes my way and the courage to do what I needed to do to face it. Without realizing it, I was praying the Serenity Prayer.
"God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change."
It doesn't matter if I understand why something is happening, I have to trust that God has a reason for everything. It doesn't do me any good to ask, "why me?" What's the difference? How does that solve the problem? What does move me forward is to recognize it, accept it, and then find a plan of attack.
"Courage to change the things I can;"
Gosh, do I need courage! So many times, the "right thing to do" is so hard, the decisions so difficult, the risks and consequences so scary. I pray for courage, to do what I have to do to make things right.
"And wisdom to know the difference."
This, my friends, is the key. Acceptance of what I cannot change and courage to change what I can don't make a bit of difference if I don't know the difference between the two. Yes, I have more on my plate than I can ever get done in a day. That hasn't changed. What has changed is my outlook and my attitude. I know I can't do it all, can't change it all. Instead of stressing out about everything, I focus on what I can do something about, and that's what I do. I know going in that I can't finish it all, and instead, I do the best I can with the time I have and consider that my accomplishment, not a completed to-do list. Acceptance and Courage are nothing without Wisdom, at least not in my book.
If you're not familiar with the prayer, you can find the full, original version here, which was written by Reinhold Niebuhr. The most well-known (albeit abridged) version, I think, is this one, which I've known since I was a child:
God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.
Back in November, I got a promotion at work. Before this promotion, I was constantly stressed out. Too much work to get done in a day, a long commute (60 miles each way), plus two kids, a home, a husband and a dog who never got as much attention as I wanted them to have. I felt like no matter what I did or how hard I worked, I could never finish my to-do list, never leave the office feeling like I could really stop thinking about work and focus only on my family.
When the promotion came along, I was excited yet nervous. Though I'd been informally serving as a mentor to many people on my team, I was now formally "responsible" for a team of 15 people. All of them would now come to me for advice, support, guidance, problem resolution, escalation, and I had no one to send them to but myself. I love my team and I enjoy the "people part" of my job more than anything else... but to continue my current project workload plus take on a team of fifteen plus have full responsibility for the relationship with our client... wow! That's enough to overwhelm anyone, me thinks.
A few weeks into the job, I was talking with my predecessor and former boss. He asked how it was going and oddly, much as I had on my plate... I was good! Truly, honestly good! He knew I was an "always stressed out" kind of person and I he was surprised at how much more relaxed I was, even with all the new responsibility. To tell the truth, I was surprised at myself. That's where The Serenity Prayer comes in.
For as long as I can remember, my prayers ask not for understanding, not (usually) for a specific result... but instead, for acceptance of whatever situation comes my way and the courage to do what I needed to do to face it. Without realizing it, I was praying the Serenity Prayer.
"God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change."
It doesn't matter if I understand why something is happening, I have to trust that God has a reason for everything. It doesn't do me any good to ask, "why me?" What's the difference? How does that solve the problem? What does move me forward is to recognize it, accept it, and then find a plan of attack.
"Courage to change the things I can;"
Gosh, do I need courage! So many times, the "right thing to do" is so hard, the decisions so difficult, the risks and consequences so scary. I pray for courage, to do what I have to do to make things right.
"And wisdom to know the difference."
This, my friends, is the key. Acceptance of what I cannot change and courage to change what I can don't make a bit of difference if I don't know the difference between the two. Yes, I have more on my plate than I can ever get done in a day. That hasn't changed. What has changed is my outlook and my attitude. I know I can't do it all, can't change it all. Instead of stressing out about everything, I focus on what I can do something about, and that's what I do. I know going in that I can't finish it all, and instead, I do the best I can with the time I have and consider that my accomplishment, not a completed to-do list. Acceptance and Courage are nothing without Wisdom, at least not in my book.
Friday, February 1, 2008
19 ounces
19 ounces. That's how much my 19 1/2 month old little girl has gained in the past 6 weeks. This is very good news for us, as we've been struggling with weight issues with her and in the previous 6 weeks, she had lost 9.5 ounces.
Yes, I've eaten steaks that weigh more than what she gained this time around, but I'm still considering it a very major accomplishment! Her pediatrician wants to repeat some blood tests (uugghh!) just to be sure everything is still OK, and he said we should now stop catering to her picky eating habits. But, we don't have to take her back for another weight check until her 2 year old checkup (in June), versus every 6 weeks like we've been doing.
The size 12 month pants still fall off her and she's still below 0% on "the curve." But, she's moving in the right direction and this mommy couldn't be happier! She's still my Spectacular Thing in the Not-Quite-As-Small-Anymore package :-)
Yes, I've eaten steaks that weigh more than what she gained this time around, but I'm still considering it a very major accomplishment! Her pediatrician wants to repeat some blood tests (uugghh!) just to be sure everything is still OK, and he said we should now stop catering to her picky eating habits. But, we don't have to take her back for another weight check until her 2 year old checkup (in June), versus every 6 weeks like we've been doing.
The size 12 month pants still fall off her and she's still below 0% on "the curve." But, she's moving in the right direction and this mommy couldn't be happier! She's still my Spectacular Thing in the Not-Quite-As-Small-Anymore package :-)
Monday, January 28, 2008
My Two Cents
This morning after I dropped the baby at daycare, I stopped for gas and went in to the mini-mart to buy snacks (peanut butter cups and Pepsi - breakfast of champions!). My total came to $3.78 and I handed the clerk a $20 bill.
"Out of twenty," she said. "$16.22 is your change."
Normally, I don't count the coins, just the bills. As she handed me my change, however, I noticed that she'd given me a ten, a five, a one and two dimes. Twenty cents, not twenty-two.
"Hhhmmm," I thought, "she just said twenty-two."
I wasn't going to say anything, but I happened to catch her eye, just in time to see her rolling her eyes at me as she asked, "Do you need the two cents?"
Well, that's an interesting question. Do I need the two cents? No, I don't need the two cents. Quite honestly, I don't even want the two cents. My purse is heavy enough. But aren't they my two cents? What was she going to do with them? There was no "take a penny, leave a penny" jar on the counter. Did she have a giant stash of pennies behind the counter? Saving for a rainy day? Was she out of pennies? I have no idea... I was totally stumped on what to say. She asked a question, was she expecting a response?
I thought about getting upset, saying something sarcastic. But, I figured if she was going to go to the trouble of keeping my two pennies, then admitting (sort of) that she didn't give them to me, then asking me the (rhetorical?) question about if I needed the two cents, then clearly, she wanted them more than I did.
"Nope, I sure don't," I replied with a smile. And then I left.
I'm fine with two fewer pennies... I just wish I knew what she did with them!
"Out of twenty," she said. "$16.22 is your change."
Normally, I don't count the coins, just the bills. As she handed me my change, however, I noticed that she'd given me a ten, a five, a one and two dimes. Twenty cents, not twenty-two.
"Hhhmmm," I thought, "she just said twenty-two."
I wasn't going to say anything, but I happened to catch her eye, just in time to see her rolling her eyes at me as she asked, "Do you need the two cents?"
Well, that's an interesting question. Do I need the two cents? No, I don't need the two cents. Quite honestly, I don't even want the two cents. My purse is heavy enough. But aren't they my two cents? What was she going to do with them? There was no "take a penny, leave a penny" jar on the counter. Did she have a giant stash of pennies behind the counter? Saving for a rainy day? Was she out of pennies? I have no idea... I was totally stumped on what to say. She asked a question, was she expecting a response?
I thought about getting upset, saying something sarcastic. But, I figured if she was going to go to the trouble of keeping my two pennies, then admitting (sort of) that she didn't give them to me, then asking me the (rhetorical?) question about if I needed the two cents, then clearly, she wanted them more than I did.
"Nope, I sure don't," I replied with a smile. And then I left.
I'm fine with two fewer pennies... I just wish I knew what she did with them!
Friday, January 18, 2008
Good thing, bright red package
Lest anyone think I play favorites... I don't! Yesterday I blogged about my baby, Jessica. Today, I'll write about my other little girl, Rachel. My other good thing, in a bright red package!During my first pregnancy, my husband and I teased each other a lot about what color hair our first born was going to have. I'm blond, he has dark brown hair and I'm not sure why, but we had a little "competition" going on which of our genes was going to win out. Here's how the delivery went....
I was at the hospital, doing "practice pushes" with the nurse when all of a sudden she shouted, "Stop! She's in a hurry to come out, I need to go call the doctor." In the 20 minutes it took for the doctor to arrive, before we could finish the delivery, the nurse tried to amuse me with small talk. "I can see a lot of hair," she told me. Of course, she couldn't tell what color.
When Rachel made her debut (only 4 pushes later after the doctor arrived -- God bless her for making it so easy on me!), the nurse announced not "it's a girl," but "she's a redhead!" My husband turned to me and said, completely straight-faced, "um, anything you need to tell me?" You could have heard a pin drop in that room as the doctors and nurses stopped cold in their tracks to wait for my response. If you know my husband, you know that this is just his sense of humor, he was making a joke. If you know our family, you know that his cousin has two kids with bright red hair, so Rachel fits right in. The red is not a mystery, we just never considered that blond + dark brown = redhead!
She's so much like me, it's almost scary. She's smart and thoughtful and most important, kind. She's sensitive and emotional and strives to make everyone happy. She's also organized and meticulous and she does NOT like it when her plans don't go her way. Yes, she's Mini-Me.
Rachel is almost 4 1/2 now. She and her sister are total opposites. Rachel organizes, Jessie destroys. Rachel listens, Jessica laughs as she does exactly the opposite of what you tell her. Rachel is respectful of what her father and I say, Jessica makes her own rules. Night and Day, Black and White, these are my girls.
Do I have a favorite? Of course not. They're both my beautiful, perfect, precious little girls. Do I approach them the same? Of course not. They're totally different people, and I know how to parent each according to their own personalities. I love them the same, but I mother them differently. Is that right or wrong? I don't know. But, so far it seems to work for us, so we'll keep doing it.
Here's another picture of my little redhead (who's initials are R.E.D., by the way... a total coincidence since we picked her name months before we knew her hair color). She's playing with her little cousin, who can't seem to get enough handfuls of her bright, pretty hair. Of course, Rachel takes it all in stride and loves how his face lights up when he plays with her.
You know, this post and my last both had "good thing" in the title, but that's wrong... the right word is really "spectacular."
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