Tag Archives: lessons

Out of the Mouths of Babes

“I don’t give a shit if kids take too many selfies or listen to bands I don’t like. They’re smarter, braver and care more than we give them credit for, and that’s pretty much always been the case.”
– Zack Foley

(I hope you’ll pardon my French with that quote above, but censoring it just wouldn’t have packed the same punch.)

I had been toying with a blog idea in my head for a while when I scrolled through Facebook and the above quote caught my attention.  A friend of mine was quoting a friend of his and what he had to say fit right along with the blog I had in my head. So, I asked permission to share it and there you have it.  And here’s why I liked it so much.

kellyselfie

My brilliant little Kelly in all her selfie glory

It’s true.

So incredibly true.

Case in point: my daughter, Kelly.  Those kids Mr. Foley refers to in his quote?  Oh yeah, my kiddo fits it to a tee. That little selfie-taking, weird-music-loving teenager of mine is everything that quote describes.  Especially that last part.

A few weeks ago, my boyfriend Richard and I were…um, let’s say…having some “issues.”  Okay, let’s just call it what it was. We were fighting. And it was bad. Now, if you haven’t heard me mention this before, Richard is a very quiet man. VERY quiet. So, when I say “fighting,” what I mean is…we weren’t speaking to each other. (Even I get tired of yelling when no one yells back.)  These non-communication fights have a tendency to drag on forever, as I’m sure you can imagine, since nothing ever gets talked about or worked on, and this particular fight was no exception. And while we try to hide our arguments from the kids, they aren’t dummies. We go from being the happiest, cuddliest couple in the world to not wanting to be in the same room? Yeah, they kinda figure something is up.

Well, this time, Kelly wasn’t having it.

She sent both of us a group Facebook message.  And I want to show it to you.  Now, I’m editing it a bit to keep out the details of the argument (I’d hate to broadcast publicly how WRONG Richard was, ya know…bless his heart…), but I’ll put enough here for you to get the gist.  Check this out:

“Okay. Y’all are getting on my nerves again. Fighting over really stupid stuff…..To be honest, you both are acting like middle schoolers. You guys get in a fight, don’t try to fix it or don’t want to talk about it, and just act like you don’t care. You do. I know I’m only 14 but I have sense….I know you both love each other and I know you care about each other, so start acting like it…Suck it up and be the couple all of us know you are.”

Okay, so I’m aware that I could be mad that she spoke to adults like that.  The whole “ya’ll are getting on my nerves” and “suck it up” parts aren’t the most respectful terms she could’ve used, of course.  But you know what? She was absolutely right.  Absolutely 100% right.

She didn’t know every detail of the argument we were having, but it really didn’t matter. The details aren’t the point. The point is that, even at 14, she could see that we weren’t handling things the way we were supposed to. She could see the love that he and I were forgetting during our anger. She could see that we needed a reminder to “be the couple that everyone knows we are.”

Now, I’m not sure how Richard immediately felt when he read this (after all – we weren’t speaking), but me?  I instantly felt the tears coming to my eyes. Not only because I knew she was right…I so love that big doofus-head boyfriend of mine with every ounce of my being…but because she cared enough to stick her nose in and try to get us back on track.  That took guts. And a heart.

And I’m so proud of her.

(By the way, Richard’s written response to her message?  “No fair – why do you get to be the smartest one in the family?”)  Heh.

Now, with all this said, I just want to clarify: I’m not saying the kid knows everything.  (Although if you ask her, she’d probably disagree with that statement.)  She still has lots and lots to learn yet.  (Don’t we all?)  But what I am saying is this: sometimes it sure does help to look at things through the simple, caring, knowing eyes of a child.  They see a lot more than we give them credit for, and they have a lot to tell us if we’ll take the time to listen.

Sometimes the details just don’t matter. Sometimes, you just have to get back to the heart of the matter…the love that lies dormant underneath all the chaos. And sometimes…a lot of times, actually…it takes a child to help you do that.

***
“In youth men are apt to write more wisely than they really know or feel; and the remainder of life may be not idly spent in realizing and convincing themselves of the wisdom which they uttered long ago.”
– Nathaniel Hawthorne

Moving Forward

“By seeking and blundering, we learn.”
– Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

weather1

Well, here it is.  *sigh*  I knew it was coming.  Knew I’d have to face it eventually.

The dreaded winter.  The evil snow.  The crappy road conditions.

Ugh.

For my readers who have been with me a while, you may remember one particular snow-related blog I wrote earlier this year.  To recap, we had one last freak late Winter/early Spring snowstorm that showed up out of nowhere at the beginning of April.  And said freak snowstorm just so happened to show up while I was driving home from work.  Freak snowstorm + driving home from work in a big, clunky car = bad.  Very bad.

I wrecked.

wreck

And not only did I wreck, but I flipped my car down a rocky bank and totaled it.  But…I’m here to tell you about it, so obviously the outcome was much better than what it had the potential of being.  And I can’t begin to tell you how grateful I am for that.

Now, fast forward a bit.  Although I was definitely a little shaky getting behind the wheel for the first time after the accident, the fear soon subsided and my life as a driver sailed on.  I got a new (well, new to me) car, one with all-wheel drive, thank you very much, and the accident was all but forgotten.

Well, that is, until today.

Today, we have snowfall #1 for Winter 2013.  And where was I?  Driving in it.  What was supposed to be a 30-minute drive to work ended up being an hour and a half drive to work.  (Now, if you know me well, or even if you don’t and you’ve paid attention to things I’ve said in the past, you’ll know that I actually live an hour from where I work.  Why did I say a 30-minute drive?  I’ll get to that part soon enough.  Believe it or not, this will all tie together eventually.  How do you like for foreshadowing, huh?  Huh?  Dude, I’m such a writer…)

weather2

Ok, back to the story.  So, when I left for work, it was just spitting snow a little and I didn’t think it was going to be that bad.  But as I got about a third of the way there, I realized that the further I went, the worse the roads were getting.  If there had been a place to safely turn around, I think I would have done it right then and there and went right back home.  But, sadly, there wasn’t.  So I kept moving forward.  By the time I got to the main road, I was over halfway to work, so I figured there would be less driving to just keep heading in the direction I was going.  Now, I’ve never been someone who was scared to drive in the snow, mind you.  But I’ve also never been someone who was driving in the snow for the first time after a bad snow-related accident either.  Needless to say, I was a little shaky.  Ok, a LOT shaky.

So, driving along scared to death in the snow with an extra hour of driving time than I had anticipated, my poor little brain had nothing else to do but think.  And think and think and think.  And since my dumb ole thoughts kept drifting back to the accident, and consequently to the similarities of today’s driving conditions to that day’s, I was doing all I could to redirect those silly thoughts to something else.  Anything else.  So…I reverted back to the old fail safe.  Something my thoughts seem to drift to pretty regularly.  Something I tend to overanalyze to death on a regular basis so why would my snowy drive to work today be any exception?

My relationship with Richard.

US2Richard and I have been talking about taking another step forward in our relationship.  And although I’m head over heels, madly in love with him, I’m a wee bit nervous about that.  Ok, just kidding…I’m scared out of my friggin mind.  See…I don’t have the best track record when it comes to making relationships work out.  I know, shocking, isn’t it?  I mean, a mild-mannered, shy, quiet little un-opinionated girl like myself?  How on Earth would I have trouble getting along in relationships, right?  I know, I know.  It surprises me too.  But alas, as hard as it is to believe, it is the honest truth.  And with that truth comes fear.  A well-founded fear.

A fear of another failure.

As my mind once again played out the pros and cons of our impending ‘next step,’ I looked around and realized that I was pulling into my driveway at work.  I had made it!  Obsessing over something besides the weather conditions actually worked to distract me!  Woohoo!

So, since I was safe and sound, I answered Richard’s “Did you make it to work?” text.

Me:  I made it!  My little car did awesome!
Richard:  Well, YEAH!  It has an awesome driver.
Me:  Ha!  I think last winter’s little accident proved that’s not true.
Richard:  Oh, that wasn’t your fault.  Shit happens.

And suddenly, with that one line of pure poetry coming out of my honey’s mouth (or, er…I guess I should say, fingers), it hit me.  The glaringly obvious similarity.  Duh!  How did I not notice it before?  This clear correlation between my fear of driving to work in the snow, and my fear of moving forward with Richard.  The fears were identical.  Both fears existed because of things that happened in the past.  And just like my carrying the heavy burden of blame for the accident, I was carrying that same burden of blame for my past failed relationships.

And this burden – this heavy, unnecessary albatross around my neck – was preventing me from moving forward.  Preventing me from just getting in the car (the new and improved car, I might add) and driving through the snow again.  I learned my lessons.  I drove a little slower.  I bought a better car that was more suited to winter weather.  I allowed myself more time.  I wasn’t in any hurry.  I learned.  It wasn’t my “fault” exactly, I realize that now.  As my philosophical sweetie so eloquently pointed out: shit happens.  It does.  It just happens.  So, you adjust.  You do things a little better next time.  You take it slower.  You make sure you’re better equipped.  You let life make you smarter.  And then you just keep going.

You just keep going.

So.  Accident logic learned – I cannot just stop driving anywhere because I once wrecked.  That would just be stupid, now wouldn’t it?   (*ding ding ding*)  Time to apply that logic elsewhere.  No more fear.  No more blame.  No more albatross.  Just let it go.

Time to move forward.

So, remember that little teaser I threw in there at the beginning?  The part about me having what should have been a 30-minute drive to work, when I actually live an hour from work?  Well, here’s why.  I was at Richard’s house.  You know why?  Well, let’s just say the past week has been a ‘test run’ of sorts.  We’re seeing what it would be like for me to live there.  With him.  Together.  And you know what?  We both feel – deep down in our guts – that this is the right thing to do.  It just makes sense.  You know?

So, as of January 1, 2014, Richard and I will be officially taking this next step forward to our future.  We’re moving in together.  We have our seatbelts on and we’re ready to go.  Our previous ‘accidents’ are just that.  Accidents.  They happened, they’re over, we’ve learned, and we’re ready to hop back in the car and see where this next trip takes us.

It’s time.

Wish us luck….

(Oh, and hey.  Do me a favor ok?  Don’t tell my Grandma!!!…) 😉

***

“We are products of our past, but we don’t have to be prisoners of it.”
– Rick Warren

Fix Your Face

face

She was not one for emptying her face of expression. ”
– J. D. Salinger

I have a pretty bad habit.

My face shows everything I’m feeling.  Everything.

And you know what else it does?  It shows everything everyone else is feeling too.

My daughter Kelly has often made fun of me for this.  We’ll be watching a movie and I’ll catch her looking at me instead of the screen.  When I turn to see what she’s looking at, she breaks out in hysterical giggles and says, “You’re doing it again.”  Apparently, whatever the person I’m watching is feeling, I display it on my face.  They’re laughing?  I’m smiling.  They’re crying?  My face is all scrunched up.  They’re singing?  (Oh, Kelly loooooves this one….) My forehead is creased and I’m straining to reach the high notes just like they are.

Well, that last example happened at church Sunday.  The choir was singing one of the most beautiful songs ever, and I was feeling it to the core of my being.  My face was singing right along with them, when I feel a little elbow go into my side and I hear,

“Mom.  Fix  your face.”

Fix my face??  What the…. [wait, I’m in church]…crap is she talking about…?

Oh.  Oh yeah.  That again.  Grrrr.

Ever since she said that, I’ve been thinking a lot about it.  While, no, I don’t want to look like an idiot, and yes, maybe I do need to work on ‘fixing my face’ sometimes to avoid just that – the deeper meaning behind why I do that maybe isn’t such a bad thing at all.

See this quote?

“All that is in the heart is written on the face.”
Ritu Ghatourey

Well, I believe that.  And I think that the fact that my face reflects what others are feeling is a pretty good sign.  I think that shows that I’m empathetic.  That I don’t just look around at my fellow members of humanity, I actually take the time to really see them.  I feel them.  I put myself right in their place and go right along with them on their journey, even if it’s just for a few seconds.

That’s kinda cool, right?

Even if I do look like a complete idiot in the process.

There are a lot of things that we teach our kids when we don’t even realize we’re doing it.  I’m sure I have some habits that I’d like for Kelly to overlook (which I’m sure are the ones that she’ll remember best, unfortunately), but this in particular is one of them that I’m not too sorry to pass along to her.  Feel for each other.  You know?  Feel your fellow man’s pain, his happiness, his struggle, his triumph.  Anything that happens to another member of humanity, is also happening to you.  We’re all in this thing together.  Recognize that.

Wouldn’t this world be a much better place if we all did that?  All the time?

Well, it would also be a much funnier place if everyone showed that on their face all the time like I do.  Kelly sure would get a kick out of it.  So, maybe you could just be that way and try to hide it a little better than I do.  That might be a better idea.

So, note to self:  Yes, listen to your daughter.  Fix your face.  But your heart?  Yeah, that heart is probably right where it needs to be.

No worries.

***

When you start to develop your powers of empathy and imagination, the whole world opens up to you.
– Susan Sarandon