Tag: relationships

Posted on August 24, 2009 in life lessons, relationships

Photo by {meagen}

This week was a tough one for two important women in my life: my dear friend lost her unborn baby, and my mother-in-law lay sick in bed after her first round of chemotherapy treatments to fight breast cancer. It’s times like these when I’m tongue-tied, lost for words. It’s hard to know what to do or how to support someone through a difficult time.  I don’t like to make assumptions about what I think someone needs or wants.  Everyone handles darkness differently.  So, I often end up ruminating: Do I pick up the phone?  Do I make a meal?  Do I let her sleep?  Do I send flowers?  Do I just show up?  

A little over two years ago, when the tables were turned (during the first trimester of my pregnancy), I had a friend who did all the right things. Somehow she knew that there was nothing she could say or do to make my suffering disappear.  She never once said I understand or I know what you’re going through.  She didn’t know, nor did she pretend to.  She never made my symptoms seem small or insignificant, nor did she try to play doctor or psychologist and fix my problems (and there were many).  Instead, she sat with me.    

A long-time family friend and Hospice pioneer, who has since passed away, Fr. Charlie Hudson, once read a poem about friendship that I will never forget: 

We had a jar with a butterfly.

We opened the lid and it flew to the sky.

And there are things inside my head

waiting to be thought or said: 

Dreams and jokes and wonderings are locked inside

like the butterfly in the jar.

But then when you are here with me,

I can open the lid and set them free.

I love those last lines: “But then when you are here with me, I can open the lid and set them free.” Notice how it doesn’t say, “but then when you make it better, cook me dinner, bring me a gift, do this, do that.” No. Here, the focus is on our presence, our very being, which may seem not seem like enough (if we judge it). Naturally, when someone I love is hurting, I want to set him/her free. So I struggle, because I know the truth: I can’t make it go away. It is what it is- painful, life-sucking, and really hard.  

For me, this poem is right on.  When I’m at my worst, weak and fragile, I tend to push people away and isolate myself.  In essence, I lock myself inside the jar with my fears, justifying my actions with the erroneous belief that nobody wants to see me like this.  But I’ve learned that when someone sits with us, weeps with us, stretches out a hand, and listens, we turn that lid just a little to the left. Even in our darkest hour, we do not have to crawl down the road alone.

Posted on July 7, 2009 in relationships

Posted on July 1, 2009 in relationships, small moments

My husband is a thinker, just don’t tell him.  He shudders at the thought (pun intended) of reflecting or journaling.  Sometimes I wonder if accusing him of thinking would be an insult (Did I mention he’s a teacher?).  Just the other day, while leisurely riding bikes and chatting about the last day of school, I had an epiphany.  Our conversation went something like this: 

Tim: The last day of school is always weird.  I couldn’t believe how quickly teachers left right after checking out. 

Me: You mean, like, they turned in their keys and bolted out the front door?  

Tim: Yeah, I don’t know how they just leave their classrooms like that.  

Me: Maybe they’re just super-organized. Hint, hint.

Tim: But I like to go back, sit down, turn up some music, and pack my stuff away.  I guess I pack the memories at the same time.

Me: You mean reflect? A little smile creeps across my face.  I know how he feels about this word.

Tim: No, it’s different.  Just remembering each class, good lessons, bad lessons, laughs we had.  I don’t know, it wraps up the year.  

Me: You were so reflecting!  Did you meditate too?

Tim: Ommmmmm . . . (both of us laughing)

Tim always jokes that the right and left sides of his brain are connected by a little dirt path, and mine, a superhighway.  However, this couldn’t be farther from the truth.  He’s a thinker, a contemplator, and he has an entire committee up there solving the world’s problems.  The idea of reflecting, per se, may be a matter of semantics.  He definitely won’t choose to write his thoughts, and he may not verbalize them either.  But if you look closely, you’ll find them safely embedded in a song on his ipod playlist.  I’m willing to bet that in the moments he spent sifting through papers and signing yearbooks, that little committee was also orchestrating next year’s first day performance.

Posted on June 30, 2009 in parenting, relationships

Core Values.  They are the framework for companies, schools, and organizations.  But what about families? Have we forgotten what, I would argue, should be our #1 priority?  My husband and I have always wanted to create a family mission statement, a vision that defines who we are and what’s most important to us. But before we can do that, it’s essential to identify those values that will guide our decisions and keep us focused on what truly matters.  

Last Saturday, while traveling to visit some friends (never underestimate the value of a long car ride- time to actually talk), we discussed what it is that defines us.  Our goal was to identify 3-5 core values that would serve as the foundation for all that we believe and do.  To start, each of us listed 5 values that we could stand behind, the ones that we felt were of paramount importance.  Then, we identified those that we had in common, and defended those that we didn’t.  Through this process, certain words and ideas emerged as being essential to how we want our family to operate.

One thing that helped to keep our discussion focused was constantly returning to the language of WHO WE ARE as individuals, not just what we hope for our family.  In other words, we cannot be something that we’re not. Likewise, we cannot give something that we don’t have.  There are certain qualities that initially attracted us to each other years ago, and we wanted to be sure that we would honor these as a family.

Here are the 4 Core Values that define us: 

1. Kindness: Generosity of Spirit.  We show people that we care.  We are sympathetic and understanding, and we act with a warm heart.  
2. Responsibility: We have a responsibility to ourselves, to our communities, and to the world. 
3. Faith: We believe in God and in each other.  We are loyal to each other, trusting that each person has something special to offer the world. 
4. Fun: We remember to approach life with a light-hearted playfulness, to laugh a lot, and to make memories together.  

So, I ask you: What defines a ________(insert your last name)?  Is it creativity, courage, flexibility, independence, optimism?  Or is it service, integrity, passion, excellence, persistence?  Below are a few questions that may help to narrow your focus:

• How would you define yourself? 
• As an individual, what are your top priorities?
• How do you spend most of your time? 
• What is it that guides your decisions? 
• What do you most admire in yourself and in your partner? 
• What would you like to pass on to your children?

It amazes me that after one week, I am already beginning to see life through the lens of family core values. The process of reflecting, verbalizing, and writing our family core values enabled me to truly see what I want for myself and for those people I love the most.

Posted on June 17, 2009 in mind and body, relationships

I’m staring down at my toenails right now, speckled in remnants of “Oh So Glam” from the last wedding I attended.  Seriously, these nasty nails need some TLC.  Come to think of it, I could use a little TLC too.  

What’s a girl gonna do?  Regis, I’d like to phone a friend.  A gal pal.  That friend who you call when you need a break and a little something to jazz up your day- a new pair of shoes, a foot massage, a cup ‘o java.  At the beginning of flip-flop season, I always call my friend Ange: “It’s pedi time!”  

It’s the best of both worlds: girl bonding and pampering.  And the pampering begins with a “big” decision: Which color will define you for the next few months?  The search for the perfect shade is no small task, as it’s never confined to mere color; the actual name is key.    Here’s me over-complicating OPI nail polish colors: 

Makes Men Blush. Yeah, not feeling “hot” today. 

Room Service.  Forget room service.  How about a vacation?  A vacation would be nice.  

It’s a Doozi, Says Suzi.  Sounds like this afternoon’s diaper.

No Room for the Blues.  Like that name, but it’s blue.  Can’t look at that all summer. 

Twenty Candles on my Cake.  Dream on, honey.  

Kiss on the Chic.  Okay, that’s sweet.  Hold that one. 

Senorita Rose-alita.  Oh, reminds me of that Phil Vassar song I love, about high school sweethearts.  Possibility. 

Your Villa or Mine? Villa.  I like that word.  Villa means vacation.  I’m noticing a trend here.  

And so it goes, until I’m forced to choose or Ange shares her polish (yet another reason why I love her).  Then, for an hour, I shirk my mommy responsibilities, sink into a sumptuous leather massage chair, and undergo the transformation to “Senorita Rose-alita.” Meanwhile, my gal pal and I dish the latest news- in our lives and in People magazine.  Every woman needs one of those friends who she can call for a little escape- whether that’s chatting over a cup of coffee, or under a nail dryer.  

Posted on June 12, 2009 in life lessons, relationships, small moments

Just the other day, I opened the fridge to find an anniversary card curiously propped up against the milk.  The front of the envelope read, “My Girl.”  After eight years, my heart still flutters when I read that, especially now that I have to compete with an irresistibly cute toddler.  

When it comes to celebrating anniversaries, my husband and I don’t buy each other extravagant gifts.  Instead, we do two things: spend quality time together over a delicious meal (that someone else has prepared) and support Hallmark.  

Last Tuesday night we celebrated at an Italian restaurant. We nestled into a corner table and gorged ourselves with antipasto, spinach salad with bacon and mushrooms (and you know how I feel about bacon), homemade pasta with ricotta and bechamel, and chicken parmigiana smothered in cheese.  Italians know how to do it right!  And they always send me home with leftovers. 

The conversation during our date was light and fun, even superficial at times.  But all the while, I felt a deep sense of connectedness.  It’s easy after eight years to say, “Oh, we don’t need to go on a date.  We know that we love each other.  Been there, done that.”  But for me, it matters that we spend this quality time together, even if there are moments where we sit in silence, stuffing our faces.  

A few years ago, someone offered me this simple advice on marriage: “Nurture your love like you would a baby.”  It stuck with me.  Babies need nourishment and attention to survive and thrive.  So do our marriages.  I’m no expert on relationships, but it makes sense to me that we need to “feed” our marriages and take care of them, especially when we feel pulled in so many different directions.    

After eight years, Tim and I laugh about each other’s quirks and finish each other’s sentences. We still fail miserably when it comes to managing household tasks, but at least that means we’re lucky enough to have a roof over our heads.  Our marriage isn’t perfect, but it’s ours.  And I wouldn’t want it any other way.  

Posted on May 3, 2009 in relationships

On a bright, sunny afternoon, my sister and I decided to take Liza for a stroll through the historic district of a nearby walking town. While I was spending my recent Gymbucks (I love Gymboree.), my sister entertained Liza in the village square.

As I headed off to meet them, I noticed Liza hugging a big, red ball. Hmm . . .not hers. Trailing behind her was another little girl, and her mother, who looked strangely familiar. I slowed my pace and squinted my eyes to get a closer look. I know her, I thought. She had these memorable pigtails- simple and unpretentious. It was Maggie, a cheerful mom from the Hip Mamas group. Oh, crap. A part of me wanted to dart in the opposite direction; I am a Hip Mamas dropout.

I joined the Hip Mamas a few months after my daughter was born, to meet other like-minded moms, to find my match. It’s not that I don’t have friends, but they are all working moms, married without children, or single. I wanted and needed someone with whom I could share this wild, awesome, and also daunting task of mothering.

So I went to some mommy meet-ups, scanning the group for my mommy mate. Being shy, my “pick up lines” were few and far between: “She’s only three months old? You look amazing!” Talk of sleep schedules and BPA-free bottles gets old . . .really fast. Needless to say, I did a lot of listening, and observing. Mom A dropped the f-bomb incessantly. Mom B fed her kid garbage. Mom C whipped out her boob wherever, whenever. SO awkward. I admit; I was sizing them up. Is she a potential?

I felt like posting in the Craigslist personals: SAHM seeking SAHM. Desires light and easy adult conversation, stroller walks in the park, bargain-shopper buddy. Must be fun, warm, real, and committed to genuine, lasting friendship.

I was impatient. I wanted to find “the one” (In retrospect, that’s a freakishly heavy burden to carry.), someone with whom I could sit and chat over a cup of hot cocoa. You know, someone whose company has the capacity to warm my soul on days when motherhood leaves me lonely and cold.

Now back to Maggie. I didn’t bolt. Instead I said with a familiar smile, “I know you! We met awhile back in the mom’s group.”

“Oh, yeah. I think I remember you from the farm,” she replied, returning the smile.

“Do you still go to meet-ups?” I asked.

“Yeah. I’m new to the area and don’t know anybody. So it’s nice just to get out sometimes with other moms. How ’bout you?”

“Oh, we don’t really go anymore. Ever, actually. We just got caught up in other things (semi-true).”

I couldn’t tell the truth. Oh, I’m a drop-out; I didn’t gel with the other moms.

For another minute or so, we talked about our daughters and then wished each other well: “Maybe we’ll see you here again soon!”

As I turned towards the nearest park bench, I had the urge to reach out. What if she was sad and alone? What if she needed someone? She seemed sincere and down-to-earth. Should I give her my number? Oh my God, how ridiculously high school!

Alas, I rummaged through my diaper bag for a pen and a tissue to write on, and scribbled my phone number. Then, I ran to catch up with Maggie.

“Here’s my phone number,” I said, “in case you ever want to get together. We come here a lot and the girls are so close in age. We’d love to meet up.”

“Thanks. Definitely.”

And oh, by the way, I’m “available.”

I haven’t heard from Maggie. Still, it felt good to make a connection, even if only for a moment. There was something about her that felt right, something relaxed and natural. My mommy match? Who knows. That’s what I get for playing the field.

Posted on April 30, 2009 in life lessons, mind and body, relationships

We know our truth, but sometimes we need someone else to exclaim, “Girl, you’re amazing!”  A couple of years ago, I was inspired by the dynamic life coach and best-selling author, Debbie Ford, who challenged me to join in the Summer Self-Esteem Game.  

Posted on April 11, 2009 in family fun, life lessons, relationships

Posted on March 26, 2009 in books, relationships

Prior to having a child, my husband and I usually spent our dinnertime recounting our teaching days, which were never short of funny, inspiring, aha! moments. We poured over challenging situations and sought each other’s advice in dealing with helicopter parents. I’ve always viewed our shared passion for educating youth as a gift.  It connects us; it’s nice to come home to someone who genuinely understands your world.