Adventures in swim suit buying. (An oldie but goodie)

Well, as you know, I have an exotic trip coming up and need a bathing suit. So I see this beautiful orange wrap style "slimsuit" in a catalog with a matching pareo and I just *know* it's going to look great on me. I envision Andre and I walking hand in hand on this white sand beach with me looking stunning in my glamorous suit. Fast forward to yesterday when it finally arrived. My first inclination of trouble should have been when I felt the fabric. I mean, this is like high grade rubber, Chloe could use it for a trampoline! Well, I think, it's a tummy control panel and I continued to try it on.
The darn thing actually comes with instructions! "Step one: inch the slimsuit on slowly as you would a pair of pantyhose." Check. "Step two: position underwire under breasts." Well, it's more like: lift sagging boobs above underwire, but OK, check. "Step three: VERY carefully pull straps up taking care as to not accidentally unfasten said straps which could literally slingshot around and do permanent eye damage." (OK, so I added the part about the slingshot, you get the picture). Check. "Step four: stand back and admire. Slimsuit will take at least one inch off your waist and hips." Check. I mean it really DOES take off an inch and looks great, until I look at the view from the rear. OMG, it has taken an inch of fat off and PUSHED it up where no fat should be. I mean, now I have a hump the size of Mt. Everest! I look like Quasimoto! But, never fear, I have yet to wrap the gorgeous pareo around my now cinched waist. Surely that will distract from the obvious lump displayed on my upper back. BTW, how the heck do you tie those things anyway? OK, check, it's tied, but now I realize that I just look like a camel in an orange rubber tube with a rag tied around my waist. So, now the question remains: Do I need to visit the tanning booth before my trip if I'm going to wear a full length robe on the beach???

In life you can't always get the upper locker

I did the first round of registration at middle school for my youngest child today. It was bittersweet; I can't believe my "baby" is almost 12, well honestly that's easier to swallow than having my oldest be almost 21, or turning 45 next month, but I digress.
It's an exciting and nerve wracking time entering middle school to be sure, so I wasn't completely surprised at the range of emotions the kids displayed today. I *was* shocked though at some of the parental responses to those emotions. One child, when assigned a lower locker, burst into tears. The upper lockers are always coveted because people tend to drop things, sometimes heavy things on those with lower lockers. I get the disappointment, but crying? Really?
Back in the day, if that had happened a parent would have said "it's ok, it's not that bad, you'll get used to it" and let it go. Nowadays the first thing a parent would do is march over and demand another locker to "fix it", so that their child would be happy. Because that's what matters now, that their children always be happy and never, ever be disappointed.
The sad thing is, what does that teach them, other than that they're entitled to whatever they want, whenever they want it? That all they need to do is throw a hissy fit until they get their way? And, it's not just about gaining material things.
We have an entire generation of people who have lost the ability to learn from their adversities. And there is much to be learned. Appreciation, grace, dignity, and humility are just a few of the skills that come to mind. Being able to handle a fiasco with tact and finesse is a lost art, as anyone who has entered an airport recently can attest to. Instead, we're faced with an army of angry, demanding, unyielding people. Where does that leave us?
There's certainly nothing wrong with striving for a particular thing, or outcome. Just like there is nothing wrong with being sad when it doesn't work out. The gift is in the lesson learned in the meantime. As Mick Jagger said "You can't always get what you want. You can try sometimes, and you just might find you get what you need". And, in the end, isn't that what we *really* want for our kids, that they find what they need?

Reality Check

Last week my daughter and I watched (or should I say, were shocked and couldn't look away from) the reality show "Jerseylicious". For those of you who have not seen the show (and it definitely is a "show"), and feel the need to delve into the seedier part of life, you can tune in and experience it for yourselves. My blog is not about the show per se, although it, and pretty much every other minute of reality television could certainly provide a ton of writing material. It's really about one of the story lines this week that revolved around an interesting practice apparently popular in New Jersey called "Trash the Dress". The premise being that you don your wedding dress (post wedding of course) and literally "trash" your dress while being photographed. I must admit the idea was completely foreign and bizarre to me. Who would spend all that money on a dress only to purposely destroy it? And then I realized my larger concern, *everything* in our society is disposable.
Clearly the ability to have disposable, single use items such as diapers, razors and soda cans is a huge convenience. But, the term "disposable" has so invaded our vocabularies that it's attached to all manner of things from plates and cameras to incomes. The problem, in my opinion, is that too many individuals seem to treat their entire lives like paper napkins,to use and toss. This approach is applied to everything from material possessions to marriages. Nothing is cherished, or deemed important enough to really work at or salvage. Sick of your cell phone? Buy a new one. Not satisfied with your job? Find another. Marriage hit a rough spot? No problem, there's no fault divorce.
When did we sink so low as to rate our relationships like our toys, to be tossed aside at the first sign of frustration, boredom, or inconvenience? In our zeal to take advantage of our multitudes of blessings we have failed to appreciate the biggest ones of all, each other. The definition of disposable is "expendable", and "unnecessary". Really? Is that what people are now? Are our friendships, families, marriages and even pregnancies so unimportant, so easily replaced that they can be thrown away so readily?
I hope not, I pray not, because in my experience there is nothing so valuable, so irreplaceable as people. The only things we should be tossing are the things taking the place of what's really important.

No Service Here

I am spoiled. Okay? I admit it. My husband travels a lot. A whole lot. And, he has acquired the coveted "Platinum Status" on one airline, which I won't reveal, but whose name starts with a "C" and ends with an "l" and there is an o-n-t-i-n-e-n-t-a in the middle. With all of his flying, he enjoys this status and I enjoy it too. I freely admit I like the priority luggage handling, not to mention that I can take 2 bags for free, and they don't even get hinky if I bring extra shoes and the bags are a bit heavy. I appreciate the free first class upgrades, the early boarding and the free drinks in the President's Club while we wait for our flight. In short, I enjoy the pampering, I relish the *service*.
But honestly, shouldn't good service be expected with the purchase of every ticket? I understand the drive for certain perks for people who fly often, it reinforces loyalty in an industry that is largely ruled by price. However, even though I personally don't fly a lot, if I pay several hundred dollars for a seat, don't I have the right to expect a certain level of accommodation as well?
Part of the trouble stems from downsizing the airline workforce to cut costs. And, I get that, I'm a capitalist girl. Why pay 10 people to do the job when 5 can reasonably handle it? Here's the rub though. No one seems to take pride in their work anymore. As we were struggling in Memphis trying to find an alternate flight for our delayed one, we were directed over and over to the self serve kiosk. Now, I don't have any innate issue with using a machine EXCEPT when said machine is not programmed to assist with my problem. Repeatedly we tried to get one of the kiosk "assistants" (I use the term loosely, but to be fair they *were* assisting, well, assisting each other with gossip), but they pointedly ignored us until finally I started to lose it, and one lady ambled over and said "oh yeah, you have to go to "special services" for that. Anyone know how Delta defines "special services"? If you guessed "an empty counter with no one working", then ding, ding, ding you win the prize. And through all this I couldn't help but wonder where the idea of service has gone. Why did not one of those employed "assistants" bother to see what was wrong *before* we missed our SECOND flight option ? Why did none of them call for a manager to help? Why did no one *care* that we spent $2300 only to be delayed 5 times on 4 flights, have 2 flights canceled, and spend and unreasonable amount of time looking for someone competent enough that was willing to do their job? I'm not sure I can blame *any* company for replacing workers like that with machines.
So, as I get ready to undertake another trip, I am comforted by the fact that *this* time I can expect to be treated well, that my luggage (both bags) checked early, will be first off the plane and there will always be someone there ready and willing to fix any problems that crop up, because of course this time, I'm traveling with Mr. Million Miles. But, I will be looking for the familiar frustrated face of the poor soul who, lacking this elite status, battles for someone, anyone to provide him with the service he also paid for.

Great Expectations

I have never thought of myself as a naive person, so imagine my surprise at recently being informed by several different people (ok, one of which was my oldest daughter who thinks I'm perpetually out of the loop) that I have some unrealistic expectations. Our discussions had initially revolved around an unfortunate lawsuit we find ourselves embroiled in, which is whole 'nother blog post (I promise I'll warn you ahead of time), but gradually I began to realize that my expectations are indeed different.
I actually believed this foray into the civil justice system (and I use the term as loosely as possible here) to be about truth. We would tell the truth and the judge would look at the evidence and that would be that. I could not have been more wrong. Instead it's become a game of who's "side" is more believable, and the bigger the spin, the better. It's way worse than buying a used car by the way. But, that isn't even the most disturbing aspect of it all. No one, except me, seems to find any of this the least bit surprising.
There is a growing apathy in this world toward certain previous standards of behavior and it's very disturbing. At first when confronted with this conflict of expectations I was shocked, then I grew defensive disputing my naivety, then, I just became sad. What is wrong with expecting the truth? What is naive about the notion that people should be honest and, better still, be held accountable if they're not? Everywhere I look people seem to treat truth like it's an offering in a cafeteria line to be passed up with disdain like cooked spinach. When did we replace integrity and ethics with justification and apathy? Why don't we hold people to higher standards, especially our courts and elected officials? If we don't require a certain level of sincerity is it reasonable to think anyone at all will adhere to any standards?
I've been told that it's simplistic to say that this course is wrong. Well, I don't care, it *is* wrong. And, you can label me gullible, naive, guileless, whatever, it doesn't matter. I refuse to lower my expectations or to allow justification and cynicism to replace integrity in my life. Great Expectations? You bet, and I won't apologize for it.

Say what you need to say

I am losing a friend and it breaks. my. heart. Watching someone you love grow ill and suffer is hard, watching them die is devastating, but my heartbreak stems not from those struggles as much as it does from a deeper sorrow. I feel like I'm failing her. You see, I am a believer and she is not. I think it's safe to say that everyone who knows me knows I'm a Christian. I've certainly never kept it a secret. I talk about how I love my church, my core group kids, my church family, but....when was the last time I mentioned why? Why am I a Christian, why do I believe? When have I talked with her about what joy and purpose and strength it has brought to my life knowing that the God of the universe cares about me so much that He died to ensure that I could be with Him forever? And, in this I have failed her and it grieves me to no end. It's not about theology, or what you *should* believe, a set of prescribed rules. Rather it's about a relationship, a peace that I would give anything for her to have. So, you ask, what are you waiting for, why not just tell her? I don't have the answer to that, but perhaps an opening or opportunity will present itself, it's what I pray for. A verse from a song keeps coming to mind "You better know that in the end it's better to say too much than to never say what you need to say again." And,I think that's a reminder we all need from time to time.

I find myself in a situation that is somewhat unusual, or should I say unusual for me, at least from what I've been used to. For the first time in a while a large percentage of the people I talk with and care about have children substantially younger than me. It's been a lot of fun reliving moments like those I experienced with my own three daughters (the youngest of which is entering middle school in the fall), as well as remembering the hardships of early childhood that I went through (potty training my middle one comes to mind). Having come out on the other side of the "toddler/preschool tunnel" as I call it, I have to say: "Gosh, it was so much easier then".
Ok, all you sleep deprived mothers of babies and toddlers, hear me out before you meet up at my door with torches and pitchforks. It's not that I think babies are a breeze or toddlers trouble free, but to those of you who have dreamed of the days of blissful full nights of sleep once you have self reliant kids I say (and pardon the pun) "dream on". Yes, early childhood presents itself and you with a lot of work, which is mostly physical. In early childhood they need you absolutely, and for the most part their requirements are straight forward and easily remedied. Once they are teens you abdicate a large portion of their need to individuals who are completely outside your control. Your trust in yourself as a caregiver has to give way to trust in your child as a decision maker. The hurts in infancy and childhood are easily addressed. I would choose rocking a fussy baby with teething pain all night over listening to my teenage daughter cry after a bad breakup. Sure, my husband and I can get out more often, but the worry is so much greater. Our date night conversations have morphed from concerns that the babysitter may be unable to soothe them, to fretting over who they're driving with, and whether the party they're at is serving alcohol. When little you remind them to brush their teeth before bed, as teens you remind them not to ever get in a car with someone who's been drinking. But, the penalty is so much more severe when they're adolescents. Forgetting to use the potty at age five and wetting the bed is frustrating to be sure, but your teen choosing to have unprotected sex is a whole other ball of wax. A friend of mine confided that she had altered her prayers for her kids from asking for health and protection when they were little ones, to asking God to place people in the paths of her teens who would appropriately guide them, and to ask that her teens never make a decision from which they can't recover.

It is undeniably a challenging, difficult thing to be a mother, each phase presenting unique challenges. And as the years race by, and you my friends, the blessed mommies of babies and toddlers, watch them grow and change in a heartbeat, I think you'll see that your love and worries get just as big as they do.