There is no shortage of pregnant cats in North Carolina. And somehow they all seem to end up at our house. I suspect word travels fast in the cat world, or that there is a sign written in meows alerting all gestating females that we are the perfect halfway house. Truthfully, I don’t have the heart to turn them away. Mainly because I know how hard it is to be a mother, and I respect their tenacity. Once the kittens are born, the moms will do whatever it takes to protect them. If the mom spots danger, she somehow alerts the kittens, who scramble for safety. As the kittens look on, she will hold her ground and fight with all her might the predator at hand.
With most animals, one thing holds true: you don’t want to mess with mama! I took on many responsibilities when I decided to become a parent. But my most natural instinct is to keep my children safe from predators. They need to grow and explore the world, but if I sense danger the claws will come out. It can be exhausting work, but their lives are at stake.
Children are vulnerable and impressionable. They crave role models. When a family unit is intact, these may be the child’s parents or close relatives. The child will emulate these people. When the family is broken, the child will usually look elsewhere for guidance. They will search for what it is lacking. Because of inexperience, they may choose the wrong person, and this can cause lifelong damage.
When my parents divorced, each of us children looked for what was suddenly missing in our lives. I settled on two of my aunts, who are amazingly strong, capable women. They shaped the woman I would become. My brother settled on my mom’s second husband. He introduced my brother (who was thirteen at the time) to smoking, drugs and alcohol. This new role model shaped the man my brother would become.
The attributes of innocence and trust can be quickly stolen from a child. Make sure that every person you allow into your child’s life is someone you would want them to become! I implore you as a parent: keep your children safe! Fight with every ounce of your being to protect them. Take on any battle necessary, because your children need to know that you should never mess with mama!
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Thursday, March 31, 2011
Don’t mess with mama!
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Monday, March 28, 2011
Die in debt
I know this is controversial. As a parent, I would love to leave my children an inheritance. This is the “inheritance” my dad left me: die in debt. My dad got his wish. Not only did he die in debt, he had managed to accumulate no assets that could be distributed to his creditors. This may seem like a bad choice, but it did take some maneuvering.
My father was extremely generous. If it was in his power to give it to you, he would. He never thought twice about debt. He didn’t lose sleep over credit card payments. This generous attitude, combined with, “What, me worry?” was not the wisest financial choice. He lived life to the fullest and managed to accumulate debt in the process. “You only live once,” he would say.
So what did he accomplish by dying in debt? In his words, “It’s sticking it to the man.” Who was the man he so lovingly referred to? It is the system set up to kick you when you’re down. When you’re in dire straits financially, that is when your interest rate is suddenly raised to 55%. The late fees probably won’t matter, because you can’t even afford gas to get to work (if you still have a job).
I understand the flip side. You shouldn’t have debt. It’s irresponsible. Live within your means. Dying in debt is considered stealing. I do not have the easygoing attitude of my father. Debt stresses me out. But in his defense, I have also seen people who have deprived themselves their whole lives. Then they die. The same ending, but to a much more boring story. My dad’s story was anything but boring. If debt was what allowed him to live his life to the fullest, then I am thankful he made that choice. You never know how long your life will be. Live it with passion, enjoy every moment and if you need to, die in debt.
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Thursday, March 24, 2011
They may be my purpose
I have seen many people hit a certain age and become dissatisfied with their lives. They feel that they have no purpose, no meaning, no direction. Some only feel satisfied when they’re working. That gives them a mission. Others feel as if something is missing, but like a dog chasing it's tail, they never quite reach it. I too have experienced these feelings. The uncertainty, the discontentment, the restlessness. The search for your purpose. Sadly most never find it. They continue searching, with frustrating, life-ruining results.
When all three of my children started school I felt the waves of aimlessness wash over me. What now? What direction should I go? Truthfully, I had no idea. I decided to start with a small purpose. My aim was to try to make one person smile, each and every day. It was a simple goal, but it worked. It helped me to not think so much about myself and try to figure out how to make others happy. It felt good to have a small purpose.
Parents can easily lose their direction, they can lose their value. Your to-do list is long, and can take over eighteen years to finish. Even when the time is up, you still don’t know if you did a good job. You won’t know if you’re successful until years later. There is no instant gratification, no immediate reward, no paycheck at the end of the week, nothing to gauge your worth. But a good mom or dad is the most valuable commodity on the planet. Parenting is a grandiose purpose!
No matter how old my children are, no matter how far away they fly, I will always be their mother. That is the most important thing I can give them. Someday my life will change but today my goal is to have a successful marriage, to appreciate the family I do have and to be the best mother I can possibly be. That is no small purpose.
Did you have good parents or bad? I would love to hear!
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When all three of my children started school I felt the waves of aimlessness wash over me. What now? What direction should I go? Truthfully, I had no idea. I decided to start with a small purpose. My aim was to try to make one person smile, each and every day. It was a simple goal, but it worked. It helped me to not think so much about myself and try to figure out how to make others happy. It felt good to have a small purpose.
Parents can easily lose their direction, they can lose their value. Your to-do list is long, and can take over eighteen years to finish. Even when the time is up, you still don’t know if you did a good job. You won’t know if you’re successful until years later. There is no instant gratification, no immediate reward, no paycheck at the end of the week, nothing to gauge your worth. But a good mom or dad is the most valuable commodity on the planet. Parenting is a grandiose purpose!
No matter how old my children are, no matter how far away they fly, I will always be their mother. That is the most important thing I can give them. Someday my life will change but today my goal is to have a successful marriage, to appreciate the family I do have and to be the best mother I can possibly be. That is no small purpose.
Did you have good parents or bad? I would love to hear!
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Monday, March 21, 2011
Embrace the inner dork
Lurking in each of us is a dork. You know—the goofy one who dances poorly in the living room when no one is watching. The one who belts out “Phantom of the Opera” in the shower when no one is listening. The one who trips on their own two feet and then pretends they did it on purpose. For some of us, the dork is unruly and regularly takes possession of our body. For others, the dork lurks in the shadows because he thinks you’re too cool to hang with him.
Since no decent dictionary even defines the word ‘dork,’ I had to go to the urban dictionary. This was my favorite definition: “Someone who has odd interests, and is silly at times.” A dork is also someone who can be themselves and not care what anyone thinks. When I was growing up, being a dork was a bad thing, and believe me, I know, because I was a dork. Other words I may have been called were nerd, geek, loser, lame, wannabe, goober and many more I don’t care to share.
What I didn’t know as a child is that I should have embraced my “gooberness.” The most lovable dorks, the irresistible nerds, are the ones that don’t fight being a geek. These are the ones I adore. They are the quirky, the goofy, who are not embarrassed to embarrass themselves, and too show who they really are. I always hated my dorkiness. By the age of sixteen, I detested my handmade clothes. I despised my pale skin, freckles, bushy hair, my name, which no one could pronounce, let alone spell.
If I could do it again, instead of hiding from the dork I would embrace it. I would allow the silliness, the odd interests, the never-going-to-fit-in-the-mold quality to shine. I would not force it to lurk in the shadows.
So if you’re a closet dork, I urge you to come out! Be odd, be goofy, be silly. Dance with no rhythm, sing with no tune, trip and fall with grace. Love the dork within. Embrace the goober you were meant to be!
Are you an in-the-closet-dork? Or are you proud to be odd? I would love to hear!
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Since no decent dictionary even defines the word ‘dork,’ I had to go to the urban dictionary. This was my favorite definition: “Someone who has odd interests, and is silly at times.” A dork is also someone who can be themselves and not care what anyone thinks. When I was growing up, being a dork was a bad thing, and believe me, I know, because I was a dork. Other words I may have been called were nerd, geek, loser, lame, wannabe, goober and many more I don’t care to share.
What I didn’t know as a child is that I should have embraced my “gooberness.” The most lovable dorks, the irresistible nerds, are the ones that don’t fight being a geek. These are the ones I adore. They are the quirky, the goofy, who are not embarrassed to embarrass themselves, and too show who they really are. I always hated my dorkiness. By the age of sixteen, I detested my handmade clothes. I despised my pale skin, freckles, bushy hair, my name, which no one could pronounce, let alone spell.
If I could do it again, instead of hiding from the dork I would embrace it. I would allow the silliness, the odd interests, the never-going-to-fit-in-the-mold quality to shine. I would not force it to lurk in the shadows.
So if you’re a closet dork, I urge you to come out! Be odd, be goofy, be silly. Dance with no rhythm, sing with no tune, trip and fall with grace. Love the dork within. Embrace the goober you were meant to be!
Are you an in-the-closet-dork? Or are you proud to be odd? I would love to hear!
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Thursday, March 17, 2011
Alcohol ruins your potential
My mom pleaded, my dad swore. Swore that he would stop. Swore that he had stopped. But he did not stop. Alcohol never resides alone. It shares a home with deceit, justification, resentment and anguish. I have seen alcohol destroy many a life, mine included. My dad was an alcoholic. In a perfect world, he would have stopped drinking when my mom asked him to. This is not a prefect world.
I have always wondered what our lives would have been like if my dad had not drunk. He was an amazing father, a hard worker, talented, funny and charming. But that was in spite of alcohol. How much more would he have accomplished without it? My dad did stop drinking, too late to save his marriage, but not too late to undo the hurt he caused his children. He was able to redeem himself, to set things right, to live up to his potential.
I have no words of wisdom for those who rely on alcohol to cope with life. Even when my dad was sober, we all knew he had a shadow following him. Somehow he found the strength to beat this enemy. It was his battle, and none of us waged it for him. I see the same struggle with other family members. I love them dearly, but I can’t fix them. When you’re a functioning alcoholic, you exist, you work, you marry, you have children, you’re alive, but you’re never truly living. How many people have wasted all the gifts they never knew they had on a cold, hard bottle? How much potential is buried in that one drink? I hope that, like my dad, others give themselves a chance to live without alcohol, to make it right, to find the strength to reach their potential.
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I have always wondered what our lives would have been like if my dad had not drunk. He was an amazing father, a hard worker, talented, funny and charming. But that was in spite of alcohol. How much more would he have accomplished without it? My dad did stop drinking, too late to save his marriage, but not too late to undo the hurt he caused his children. He was able to redeem himself, to set things right, to live up to his potential.
I have no words of wisdom for those who rely on alcohol to cope with life. Even when my dad was sober, we all knew he had a shadow following him. Somehow he found the strength to beat this enemy. It was his battle, and none of us waged it for him. I see the same struggle with other family members. I love them dearly, but I can’t fix them. When you’re a functioning alcoholic, you exist, you work, you marry, you have children, you’re alive, but you’re never truly living. How many people have wasted all the gifts they never knew they had on a cold, hard bottle? How much potential is buried in that one drink? I hope that, like my dad, others give themselves a chance to live without alcohol, to make it right, to find the strength to reach their potential.
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Monday, March 14, 2011
Enjoy the small gifts
It seems that when we are at our lowest point in life, we are given a small gift. It is a tiny gift that makes us smile despite our despair. If you’ve never experienced this, it doesn’t mean it did not happen; just that you didn’t notice it.
Every time I see a rainbow I think of my dad. I saw a rainbow the week of his funeral. I was exhausted and overwhelmed with grief. My daughter and I were driving back to my dad’s house and in the green valley below was a flawless rainbow. The kind with a pot of gold at the bottom. Despite my misery, I had to smile. I felt thankful to be alive and to be there at that precise moment. It was a gift and I am glad I received it.
That same week, I decided to visit one of my dad’s favorite spots. It was a swinging bridge in the village of Arroyo Grande. He loved taking his children and grandchildren there. I planned on going and wallowing in my sorrow. Fortunately, I was not allowed to do this. Instead, an extremely amorous rooster jumped up on the bench with me and started doing a mating dance. His desperation brought a smile to my face. It was a tiny, happy gift.
The breathtaking sunset, the look your pet gives you when you get home, the smell of honeysuckle in the warm air, someone telling you they love you, all tiny, happy gifts. Even when you are content, it gives you peace when you notice the abundance around you. Life is hectic and rushed and daily small gifts go unobserved. As I frantically tried to get my children ready for school, I pulled out a paper from my youngest child’s backpack. It was her standing under a rainbow picking flowers. Since she is just learning to spell she had written: "I like to pig faurs." I felt thankful to be alive and to be there at that precise moment. It was a gift and I am glad I received it. No matter how disappointing life feels, it is full of gifts. But some are so tiny that you need 20/20 vision to see them.
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Every time I see a rainbow I think of my dad. I saw a rainbow the week of his funeral. I was exhausted and overwhelmed with grief. My daughter and I were driving back to my dad’s house and in the green valley below was a flawless rainbow. The kind with a pot of gold at the bottom. Despite my misery, I had to smile. I felt thankful to be alive and to be there at that precise moment. It was a gift and I am glad I received it.
That same week, I decided to visit one of my dad’s favorite spots. It was a swinging bridge in the village of Arroyo Grande. He loved taking his children and grandchildren there. I planned on going and wallowing in my sorrow. Fortunately, I was not allowed to do this. Instead, an extremely amorous rooster jumped up on the bench with me and started doing a mating dance. His desperation brought a smile to my face. It was a tiny, happy gift.
The breathtaking sunset, the look your pet gives you when you get home, the smell of honeysuckle in the warm air, someone telling you they love you, all tiny, happy gifts. Even when you are content, it gives you peace when you notice the abundance around you. Life is hectic and rushed and daily small gifts go unobserved. As I frantically tried to get my children ready for school, I pulled out a paper from my youngest child’s backpack. It was her standing under a rainbow picking flowers. Since she is just learning to spell she had written: "I like to pig faurs." I felt thankful to be alive and to be there at that precise moment. It was a gift and I am glad I received it. No matter how disappointing life feels, it is full of gifts. But some are so tiny that you need 20/20 vision to see them.
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Thursday, March 10, 2011
Don’t always share your accomplishments
“Misery loves company!” is a quote I heard often as a child. But if that quote is true, then there should be a counterweight: “Delight disgusts the depressed.” When you are down in the dumps, wallowing in the misery of life, the last thing you want is a phone call from “Chipper Joe” telling you what an amazing event he just experienced. It feels like pouring jalapeƱo juice into an open wound.
You have to be tactful when you experience both joy and misery. You’ll find a rare few who will want to support you in both, but the odds are against you. The majority of people only like to hear your good news when they are having their own success, and even then they will feel much more satisfaction from your failure.
This seems to be human nature. Secretly, we want to be the most successful, beautiful, smart, lucky and talented. We usually come to the realization at some point (for me it was in kindergarten) that we are not, but the illusion persists. Our brain is a magician. It can pull any rabbit out of the hat, and this one is called envy.
You may have met this rabbit called Envy: he’s green, and he also goes by the names Rivalry, Jealousy and Covetousness. The feeling starts as a small twinge in the pit of your stomach, which turns into a day of “Why me? Everyone else has all the luck. It’s not fair!” In one short conversation, “Chipper Joe” has pushed you off the edge of the steep ravine, into the ditch of dismay.
The wisdom comes in knowing who to call on your brilliant days and who to run to on your foggy days. Wisely choose those who will enjoy your success and shine from your accomplishments, as opposed to those secretly hoping that your ship will run ashore. Your success should be shared, just not with everyone!
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You have to be tactful when you experience both joy and misery. You’ll find a rare few who will want to support you in both, but the odds are against you. The majority of people only like to hear your good news when they are having their own success, and even then they will feel much more satisfaction from your failure.
This seems to be human nature. Secretly, we want to be the most successful, beautiful, smart, lucky and talented. We usually come to the realization at some point (for me it was in kindergarten) that we are not, but the illusion persists. Our brain is a magician. It can pull any rabbit out of the hat, and this one is called envy.
You may have met this rabbit called Envy: he’s green, and he also goes by the names Rivalry, Jealousy and Covetousness. The feeling starts as a small twinge in the pit of your stomach, which turns into a day of “Why me? Everyone else has all the luck. It’s not fair!” In one short conversation, “Chipper Joe” has pushed you off the edge of the steep ravine, into the ditch of dismay.
The wisdom comes in knowing who to call on your brilliant days and who to run to on your foggy days. Wisely choose those who will enjoy your success and shine from your accomplishments, as opposed to those secretly hoping that your ship will run ashore. Your success should be shared, just not with everyone!
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Monday, March 7, 2011
Get Out of Jail Free card
My dad’s philosophy was that every child should have a Get Out of Jail Free card. That meant that he would bail each of his children out of jail for free, one time. He was not encouraging jail time, but seemed to understand that if we made the huge mistake of getting arrested, we would need his help. The good part is that he was able to use this for each of his children.
My brother was the first to use his card. Because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time, with the wrong friends, doing the wrong thing, he managed to end up in the county penitentiary. In his defense, he still claims that the drug paraphernalia the police found in his pocket was not actually his. So in the middle of the night my brother used his one and only phone call, to let my dad know that he would be cashing in his Get Out of Jail Free card.
My sister was the second. Being a nurse and never having a run-in with the law, my dad realized she might never need to cash in her card, so when the time came for her to buy her first home he gave her the down payment. He called it her Get Out of Jail Free card.
I was the third and last one to use my card. I cashed mine in for an all-expenses-paid, absolutely unforgettable trip to Disneyland with my dad. He was generous beyond compare, and even though we had to suffer through “It’s a Small World (After All),” it was much better than a night in the slammer.
So what lessons did I learn from my dad’s funny generosity? That most parents would never even consider the idea that their angels could end up in jail, but my dad did. When and if it did happen, we knew that we had someone to call. It also taught me, once again, that my dad loved us all, unconditionally. He knew we would make mistakes, and he was realistic in his expectations. We were not chastised for our bad decisions, but were given a second chance. And we were also rewarded for our good decisions.
As a parent, I hope that if I get a phone call at 3 a.m. from the local sheriff, I will calmly tell my child they can cash in their one Get Out of Jail Free card, and if I never get that phone call I will find an amazing way to let them cash it in anyway.
My brother was the first to use his card. Because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time, with the wrong friends, doing the wrong thing, he managed to end up in the county penitentiary. In his defense, he still claims that the drug paraphernalia the police found in his pocket was not actually his. So in the middle of the night my brother used his one and only phone call, to let my dad know that he would be cashing in his Get Out of Jail Free card.
My sister was the second. Being a nurse and never having a run-in with the law, my dad realized she might never need to cash in her card, so when the time came for her to buy her first home he gave her the down payment. He called it her Get Out of Jail Free card.
I was the third and last one to use my card. I cashed mine in for an all-expenses-paid, absolutely unforgettable trip to Disneyland with my dad. He was generous beyond compare, and even though we had to suffer through “It’s a Small World (After All),” it was much better than a night in the slammer.
So what lessons did I learn from my dad’s funny generosity? That most parents would never even consider the idea that their angels could end up in jail, but my dad did. When and if it did happen, we knew that we had someone to call. It also taught me, once again, that my dad loved us all, unconditionally. He knew we would make mistakes, and he was realistic in his expectations. We were not chastised for our bad decisions, but were given a second chance. And we were also rewarded for our good decisions.
As a parent, I hope that if I get a phone call at 3 a.m. from the local sheriff, I will calmly tell my child they can cash in their one Get Out of Jail Free card, and if I never get that phone call I will find an amazing way to let them cash it in anyway.
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Thursday, March 3, 2011
You get what you need
We were very nervous to have a second child. Our first child was sweet, obedient and a girl. Not a bad combination for our first try. We were confident, we were amazing parents, we had it all figured out. The midwife who was delivering our second child must have seen the arrogance on our faces, because she used five words that still ring true: “You get what you need.”
We knew within twenty-four hours of our son’s birth that we had gotten what we needed. He had a temper, he was contrary, he was a boy.
The midwife’s words have been fulfilled many times since they were uttered. As if our son wasn’t enough, two years later, the birth of our third child left us even more bewildered. Our arrogance has turned into a form of mortification. Each child has managed to embarrass us more than the next. They keep us humble, which must have been exactly what we needed.
These words bring me comfort. When I am worried about some future event, I resolve that I’ll get what I need. It may not be what I want, but it will be what I need. I don’t view every bad situation as a disaster. I think: What do I need? What am I supposed to learn from this? When I get frustrated with others who seem to face no consequences for their decisions, I tell myself, they’ll get what they need. Then I sit back and wait. Sure enough, the prophecy is always fulfilled. The user gets used. The smug get humbled. The unreliable are jilted, and the untrustworthy are misled. This principle runs on autopilot. The best thing to do once it’s in motion is enjoy the ride. Just remember, you’re the one who chose the course, so don‘t complain when it get‘s bumpy. Have fun and don’t worry, because you‘ll always get what you need.
We knew within twenty-four hours of our son’s birth that we had gotten what we needed. He had a temper, he was contrary, he was a boy.
The midwife’s words have been fulfilled many times since they were uttered. As if our son wasn’t enough, two years later, the birth of our third child left us even more bewildered. Our arrogance has turned into a form of mortification. Each child has managed to embarrass us more than the next. They keep us humble, which must have been exactly what we needed.
These words bring me comfort. When I am worried about some future event, I resolve that I’ll get what I need. It may not be what I want, but it will be what I need. I don’t view every bad situation as a disaster. I think: What do I need? What am I supposed to learn from this? When I get frustrated with others who seem to face no consequences for their decisions, I tell myself, they’ll get what they need. Then I sit back and wait. Sure enough, the prophecy is always fulfilled. The user gets used. The smug get humbled. The unreliable are jilted, and the untrustworthy are misled. This principle runs on autopilot. The best thing to do once it’s in motion is enjoy the ride. Just remember, you’re the one who chose the course, so don‘t complain when it get‘s bumpy. Have fun and don’t worry, because you‘ll always get what you need.
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