What if-Happy New Year 2016

Ahh the New Year...

I have to liken the old year somewhat to the schoolyard chatter of “take it back.”

It seems that so often we want a sort of “do over.”  You know, like in 6^th grade when someone said you were stupid, or you wanted to have your turn again in Chinese jump rope because you stepped on the rope.  We look backward and say that the coming year, we will “do better,” “be better,” “act better.”….a sort of “take it back” from the previous year-the “do over.”  Yet, is there really a “take it back?”

                                        NO. 

BUT… there is something…

So, in this New Year blog, I want to …well, just read it...

My point is NOT to be passive aggressive (geesh, can we eliminate that obnoxiousness on social media—!!!) about some shit that I am trying to get out to people in my life or whatever.   The message is “within” my story-about my life-I couldn’t stop thinking about it on a much bigger level.  I couldn’t stop thinking about how this (one sentence) moment in my life might translate/integrate/relate into someone else’s story.

…because bitterness is like a trend these days (#me).

My reasoning for these words is to maybe give a pause for thought (for lack of a better phrase), not just to the words “take it back,” but to the

Notion… of “take it back,” to the “it’s ok,” to the “I know,” to the “I know you are sorry, and we are more than this moment or those moments, and I love you.”

                 I mean…who the hell can’t relate to this??

I recently reached out to a friend to tell her Happy New Year.  I have been friends with her for 12 years.  In that 12 years, we have been aquaintances, friendly, close, closer, and recently, somewhat distant.  A few days before NYE, I reached out to many of my friends—some close-some distant- to wish them a Happy New Year because I love each of them, individually, particularly for the memories and more importantly, the moments in time—you know the ones that will connect you with someone forever (like a song on the radio that instantly creates time travel)… –to grow and to reconnect that very connection.

OK, and yes honestly, to some, to say, behind the cover of “Happy New Year:”  can I get a “take it back?”  Can I get a “do over.” 

My view:

                       A friend is someone who loves

                            …and is compassionate and empathetic   

                                         …but does not forget

                   that the connection is what binds.

So, back to this friend. 

After I texted her…she texted back the next day.  She wished me a Happy New Year.  She shared with me a few things about her holiday break, asked me some advice, and then she said these words;

                                  “I don’t want to lose our friendship.” 

I instantly cried and cried.

As we move into this new year…oh 2016, you are here…

Just-

Think about what might happen if you reached out to someone part of your past-and maybe, your present-the now-, your memory bank, a piece of who you were, who you are now.  Think about what might happen if you both said: 

                “I take it back.”  Let’s have a “do over.”

Life is short.  We hear it all the time.  But, if life is short, then why not share the short time we have with the people we not only love…but why don’t we share that time with the connections to make us who we are? 

So, with that, my decision in 2016 is a combination of the last few years:  a “take it back,” a “do over:”

Do or do not…there is no try

Read

Play

Write

And …second (or 3^rd or 4^th) …

OK, OK …NEW chances.

                             Happy New Year!!!!  2016.

Yes, it’s ok that you called me stupid…you can take it back.

Yeah, you can have a do over on the zig zag on the Chinese jump rope.

Absolutely.

  

Finally "40"...good grief! 11.29.2015

Sitting on the couch in the quiet except for the words of the new Adele song, "Hello," rolling off of my iTunes. 

The first time I heard this, all I could hear was her powerful voice.  Without coincidence, as I believe, my husband texted me within an hour of hearing it on XM to tell me about the new Adele song.  He had just heard it on Good Day Columbus, and he said it was sure to be a hit…and he was right.  We heard it for the first time within an hour of one another.  Love this.

At work, I played it over and over on YouTube in my classroom during my planning time (sorry to my neighbors).  The raw sound of her voice and the intensity of regret in the lyrics struck me, grabbed me, sunk into me, and then slapped me.

But, later, I read an article about the song.  She said that it wasn’t about anything in particular—that all of the “love gone wrong” angst of her last CD was in the past. 

I thought about that for a long time.  Each time after reading this dialogue, and I listened to this song, I could hear her say it wasn’t about anything-anyone in particular. 

And she is right…at least for me.  Haven’t we all broken hearts?  Haven’t we all hurt our friends, our families…even those people we barely know?  From the mere age of 6, I can recall hurting others, being unkind, and I can recall being around others who treated me the same.

How silly it is that I can vividly recall that in 1^st grade, no one would trade me shoes because I had the flat sandals with the plastic rainbow stripes, and all of the other girls had the white ones with the cork wedges….I still can see me standing by the monkey bars while the other girls—traded in front of me.

And after feeling that awful feeling that can only be described as rejection…a mere 2 years later, it was so easy to make fun of one of my longest friends at a slumber party because… everyone else was--—sorry EM.

While slightly funny and anecdotal now, I can still recall feeling “ugly” way back in 1985 being called “bucky beaver” because I had a huge overbite (thank you Erkis and Kristal for fixing this!!!).  Kids can be really mean, you know. 

Kids are mean, even when they aren’t “kids” anymore.  The high school Michelle gossiped and found fault in others because I felt so insecure about myself-because I wanted to belong, wanted “the” boy, wanted the pretty clothes and the shoes.  I came off strong and assertive, but it wasn’t real…and it became a character flaw that would transcend for a long, long while.

In college, I dated a lot—hopping around-yet running back trying to “fix it”, and yet, I kept one foot out of the door, just in case.  I think I hurt “them” as often as they hurt me.

And I have no doubt that in my various jobs before I became a teacher, there were many “digs” to me and from me…

           oh, please, honestly,…

           the words were like a torrent rainfall-

           falling and falling

-each drop of bitch shredding the next

—the 20’s really are a time when you just “do” without much caution of thinking before your speak, thinking before you do—and I paid the price in a myriad of ways, in my family, in my friends, in college, all leaving me with an unfilled “quest.”

And, interestingly, the reflection of the rear view mirror blinds me glaringly now…because I prided myself for so long for being this person who was a “good” friend/big sister-surrounded by many.  Yet, in that glare, I found that, maybe, I am not that friend-that maybe I have an ego bigger than my heart on every third Wednesday…

It’s just that as those moments and memories of the past might fade for some (or maybe they learned how to put them in a box or seal them in an envelope)-it seems in my own life, my swirl of memories-in my swirl, they stay.  They stay.  Right here.  As my daughter says, "Owie Owie."

In my life now, I have learned those hard and painful lessons (and dozens of others), and I as sit here listening to the words of this song, I think about how Adele apologizes for hurting, for walking away, for misunderstanding and miscommunication. 

Who hasn’t been through this—in some walk of life?   And, despite all the lessons learned from all the mistakes we make, is it written anywhere that those lessons that gave us a grade of “C” or "D" won’t reveal an “F” the next time, even though we were hoping for at least an improvement to an 80%?

I, for one, still believe in second chances-for the “old college try” and at least a 77%.

…and most of the time (and I still don’t know exactly what this means about me), I am a person who gives a third and fourth chance before I am ready to be on the “other side-the outside.”  

It’s puzzling and oh-so-revealing to me that while I began this blog at 40 to chronicle this ***“amazing a-ha”*** (one I thought I finally achieved before 41--)  that was supposed to appear and blaze like the Northern Lights or something… would fizzle into a flicker—and finally showing itself to me, to sink in…

3 ½ years later.

And Adele is “write.”  The a-ha is finally that I, me, Michelle, the “40-come lately” can say with ABSOLUTE affirmation and conviction (not the presumably-“I’m older, I know better” motto of my “wiser age”) …

"at least I can say I tried, to say I’m sorry.”

  Sorry to me, sorry to my family, my friends, and to the people who didn’t even know I owed them one.  And sorry to ME.  And maybe…I am finally and at last “getting” what others seemed to have gotten long ago.  I believe in me.  For the doubts and faults that I can’t let go of, I am ready to give ME the 3^rd and 4^th chance.  I am my own comeback.

  

And, as I write this, my sincere hope is that others might give themselves their own 3^rd and 4^th chances—to create their own pages of the comeback.

…to write the words that will matter to themselves first…

and for me:   

at long last, 43 ½  is opening a new chapter. 

A grateful Friday :) 7.31.2015

Happy Friday…

It’s a beautiful Friday.   I have a day filled with fun plans…a breakfast, farmer’s market, a hike.   I was lying on the couch thinking about the past few weeks.  I was thinking about the moments that build and build, one morsel at a time, into the minutes and hours and days that make up our lives. 

Looking over the past few weeks, there have been some hard moments.   And, of course, isn’t that part of life? 

               The hard moments that reveal the soft ones?

Today, on this beautiful day, I feel overwhelmingly grateful for these revelations.   In just a matter of a few short weeks, those morsels have been building into those moments of life.  I have been shown those soft moments right here in my front yard…and my back yard. 

Anyone who knows me knows that for me-

           Life isn’t happenstance. 

           Life isn’t coincidence.

           Life isn’t maybe. 

For me-

         Life is a chain of connections …

          and for every link of disconnect, there is a link of reconnect. 

While I feel a sadness for the disconnects, I feel immensely grateful for the reconnects—those links that have been holding my hand, listening to my words, and for my new connections, the links who have appeared into my life right when I needed them…right when my family needed this new chain.  

When you put it out there…

Here it is. 

Grateful…

Happy Friday.  J

Just a Thursday Night 6.11.2015

Perhaps inspired by some funny and raw FB posts and other blogs….this post is just another day in the life.     My life.    Today's life.   June 11th, 2015

It’s 7:33 pm.

 I just walked downstairs from putting my daughter to bed…and subsequently checking on her.   Checking on her because of the day we have endured.  A day that left me feeling like #momfail. 

WAIT.

She’s up.  I forgot to close the gate.  She’s standing here next to me…to get a drink, of course, from my giant water.   Yes, it’s a giant jug of water.  I don’t even have the energy to pour a glass of wine.   Yeah, that should offer a little foreshadowing into this blog post. 

She is next to me pouring my jug of water into her cup and back and forth, and OH!  Yep…she just spilled the water.  I am not really saying much:  “Well, go get a towel from the drawer.”  Now, she’s cleaning the table, getting more towels??  Oh, nevermind.  She’s using my cloth dinner napkins.  I calmly tell her to put them in the laundry room and go to bed (perhaps one of the 7 calm sentences I have said all day).  She replies with, “You need to go get ready for me (turn on the music, cover her, pet her).  I tell her no.  She tells me, “My wanna read a book.”  I can’t say no to this, especially since we just came from the library, and she has 6 new books.  PAUSE.  (this is the MIDDLE)

BACK TO BED.

Prior to 7:33 was a combination of a broken recording (my voice) and an unfocused shaky camera lens(her body).  It was a day filled with sweet hugs, a no-tantrum ponytail, a snuggle after her nap…and other "moments."

HOLD ON.

OH….here we go.  She is UP again.  8:14.  (no, she will not sleep a minute past 6 no matter how late she stays up). 

I’M BACK.

This new “get up” routine started about 3 months ago or so….along with a myriad of “problems.”  Problems that began at school with a transition change.    

Today…I lost my cool.  I snapped at her.  I used the wrong tone.  There was a tap.  Today.   She cried.  Today.  I cried.  Today…I apologized over and over.  I held her over and over.   I wiped tear after tear.  #momfail

Today, she yelled, told me no.  She swatted at me and did the whole “I’ll laugh in mommy’s face because she is angry.”  She kicked.  She threw herself on the ground.  She told me, “not today” for every request I made.  #momfail

I tried all of my “tricks.”  Stay calm.  Ignore.  Don’t engage.  Praise.  Noticing.  Thumbs up.  Dinner out/trip to a new library (change of scenery).   NOTHING worked.   So, I kept snapping.   I even raised my voice a few times.  #momfail

When I walked away from her bedroom the first time tonight (before her encore performance descending down the stairs)…I was thinking about something I read recently.  We are having a lot of challenges with her current preschool classroom.  I read that one of the mistakes I make is that I react too quickly.  She needs to problem solve and to calm herself down some of the time.  I am so focused on all the things I keep hearing are “wrong” with her that I am hyperfocusing/overreacting.  #momfail

Instead of helping channel her spirit, I worry I am so pressured by the “wrongs” that I am squishing her too much.  Today was me reacting, me being angry because I feel like I am failing her, me winding up tight only to unravel in seconds.  #momfail 

Today was hard.  Really hard.  The words may not a rival Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good Very Bad Day, but it was hard because I felt like I really let her down today as a mom that she can count on and learn from…Today was a day filled with …#momfail

(not a Pinterest mom fail/not a social media mom fail….a mom fail that I take on myself …she learns by watching me…watching ME) #momfail

Oh YEAH  :)…FINALLY SLEEPING

(**my shining reader in the MIDDLE…)

We read two books.  She is really embracing repeating lines, predicting rhymes, and she uses her finger to trace big bolded words.  She likes to use the pictures clues and the emotions drawn on the characters’ faces to talk about how the characters are feeling… and she was snuggled up on my lap the whole time.   That is what my gut and heart say to use as my “interventions,”

What she watched today was not acceptable.

Tomorrow I get to try again.  I pray in a few years that she doesn’t recall this day (her memory is wicked).  I will try again.  I will not let the pressure of a few people and their notions of whom my daughter “should” be alter what my gut and heart tell me.  It isn’t that today isn’t OK….it’s that today is ok with me-in my views And I am her champion advocate.  I am.  Tomorrow.  #momwin

My wish for all of you mommies out there…to know it will be ok. 

And for me, tonight:   a big bowl of ice cream and the RHONYC !!!