Some philosophies I live by

Now that my friend and I are doing the radio show/podcast, we've been meeting some interesting people. There has been an occasion or two when my friend has felt a little intimidated because the person we're speaking to is a "professional."

Like someone "important."

My almost ten years as a freelance writer means I have interviewed lots of people, some of whom have done some "big" things or have "big money." Because of this, I don't feel this same sense of "whoah" about speaking to certain people.

However, I think what matters most is one of my philosophies in life that I adopted a few short years ago, and it is this:

Everyone has had poop stains in their underpants. 

I don't care if you are the Queen of England or the President of the United States or Beyonce, you've experienced the unfortunate situation of streaks in your drawers.

I won't speak to the reasons for these streaks--whether they resulted from a lengthy laugh or were the result of a bout of stomach flu--but the point is that it is hard to feel that someone is better than you when you keep this philosophy in mind at all times.

And I do.

The other philosophy I keep at the front of mind is

I don't remember what anyone else wore yesterday; 

therefore, they don't remember what I wore; 

therefore, I can wear the same clothing multiple days in a row. 

Occasionally, I go to put on the same outfit I wore the day before, and I momentarily think to myself, "Will anyone notice?" 

And then I try as hard as I can to recall what the people I saw the day prior were wearing, and I cannot recall if they even wore clothes. 

Who knows??

So I don't sweat it.

I wear what I want. 

If some oddball person with OCD notices that I am repeating what I wore, then that person has far more issues on his/her plate than what I wore because he or she is probably three steps away from madness. 

(As a person with clinically diagnosed OCD, I can speak from experience here.)

The other philosophy that is really just starting to fully take hold as I move into my later 40s is the following:

I really don't give a shit what anyone thinks.

About me, specifically. 

(But often in general).

It is so terribly freeing to no longer care, to no longer fret endlessly about whether people like me or think I'm smart or think I'm pretty. 

Because I think I'm smart and as pretty as I'm gonna get considering genetics and aging and my absolute refusal to have surgery unless something is diseased. 

I try very hard not to be a jerk, but I am also done with other people acting jerk(ish) and me worrying whether they'll think I'm a bitch if I respond. 

(See band director post)

I think I'm going to make a really FANTASTIC 80-year-old woman someday!

The big ask (N at the university)

The older I get, the more I realize that asking is the absolute best thing you can do for a number of reasons.

First, the worst someone can say to your ask is no, which means you are still at the same point where you started.
You haven't lost anything.

Secondly, most people don't ask at all.
Sometimes the only reason change hasn't been made is because someone hasn't asked for it to be made.
In a perfect world, changes would be made without asking, but this isn't a perfect world.

A case in point.

When I was still N's Girl Scout troop leader, I contacted the city university to ask if the girls could tour and talk to someone in the psychology department.

That psychology department happens to be a very "female-strong" place, so not only were they delighted to meet the troop, they went on the develop a program and badge for other Girl Scout troops.

Fast forward to this spring after N's college visit (which all freshman did at her high school).
She remains interested in psychology, so I asked her if she would want to volunteer in the university's psychology program if they would allow it.
She said yes, so I emailed the contacts I had made at the university.
The worst they could say was "no," in which case N would be able to vegetate at home in front of her phone all summer long.
But they said yes.

And so, N has been going to the university one day a week to learn about the psychology department, what they do, research, etc.
She is networking with both undergrad and graduate students.
She is making an impression on a university professor (who could, perhaps, help mentor her if she chooses a psychology path).
She is learning about psychological research and helping the lab.
She is gaining confidence.

And all I did was ask.

Band director letter (option #2)

Cooling down.
Revising.....


Hello Mr. W, Ms. K, and Mr. A,

I am writing to ask that the cones that designate the band's practice area in E's parking lot be located and placed in the parking lot before any other activities/sports take place in the afternoons/evenings. Although my child is not in band, I learned this evening that these cones are missing.

When I arrived at E at 6:30 pm for a field hockey booster meeting and field clean-up, there were no cones marking off where band normally practices. Because there were no cones and because my child is not in band, and I, therefore, do not know the band's practice schedule, I parked in the big lot.

At the end of the field hockey meeting, the band was in the parking lot, where a minivan and some trucks were blocking the exits, making it impossible for me to leave the parking lot.

To make a long story short, I had a difficult time getting Mr. A's attention (whether he was willfully ignoring me or not in order to "make me pay for my error" is a matter of perception). When he asked that I not park there, I told him I would not, but that there had not been cones up when I arrived so I had no way of knowing the band's intentions of using the space. It was a rather awkward situation, to say the least, and not one I would wish on another E parent. Thank goodness this wasn't my first impression of the school and its teachers.

Thank you for your consideration of this matter.
C

I'm sleeping on this (will I send or not?)

Tonight, I had a bit of a situation.
I am debating whether or not to send an email to the activities director, principal, and teacher involved.
It is pretty bad when kids in band are texting my kid saying, "The teacher is a dick. He's going to be a dick to your mom."
I am sleeping on it.


Hello Mr. W, Ms. K, and Mr. A,

I am writing to ask that the cones that designate the band's practice area in Es parking lot be found as soon as possible. Although my child is not in band, I learned this evening that these cones are missing. 

When I arrived at E at 6:30 pm for a field hockey booster meeting and field clean-up, there were no cones marking off where band normally practices. Because there were no cones up and because my child is not in band and I, therefore, do not know the band's practice schedule, I parked where I have been parking for the past several weeks when I've brought my daughter up to field hockey conditioning and practices. 

At the end of the field hockey meeting, the band was in the parking lot, where a mini-van and some trucks were blocking the exits, making it impossible for me to leave the parking lot. 

Mr. A was busily directing his students to move around, so I understand why he did not notice me at first when I stood below the crane. After a few minutes of him directing, I then had to wave my arms and yell in order to get his attention (although band students did not have their instruments so noise wasn't an issue; perhaps, him being 60 feet in the air may have made it difficult for him to notice me). 

I asked if he could have someone move the van so I would no longer disturb his band practice, and he asked that I no longer park there, at which point I told him there were no cones up, at which point he informed me that he cannot locate them.

I have had many pleasant experiences with E teachers, so I don't wish to assume a teacher would willfully ignore an E parent because she had accidentally parked in a lot that wasn't marked off with cones to designate it as being needed for band or make her feel like an idiot by having to wave her arms and yell in order to get the teacher's attention.  I'm afraid this might backfire and simply make the teacher seem like a jerk. I would hate to think what a brand new parent to E whose child is a freshman might have made of the situation. 

Fortunately, I suspect Mr. A was simply very focused on his band students, specifically where his trumpet players were standing, so I will chalk this up to an awkward one-time situation. 

For Mr. A's sake, mine, and any other parent who parks at E and doesn't know the band's schedule, please make sure the cones are found and put in place as early as possible.

Thank you,

C 

Family milestones (change that sneaks up on your ass)

Various situations of late have helped me recognize that our family is changing.

Now, on the one hand, this is absolutely plain to even the most obtuse person.
Every year we celebrate birthdays, and time moving on means change.
As Billie Eilish would say, "duh."

But it is different from that.
It is that the changes within my kids are impacting the family dynamic.
This has happened before, but it is more appreciably noticeable now.

Much of it I recognized on vacation.
Like N losing her mind because the cell signal was so bad that she couldn't Facetime her boyfriend on the beach when we first arrived.

N losing her mind, in general, is not something she does often.
Sure, she was tired of being in the car for two days with her brothers.
But it was crankiness coupled with boyfriend angst and technology and knowing that she was going to be away from her life for two whole weeks.

I mean, just boyfriend angst alone is a relatively new situation that has pushed me (and the family) into all-new "WTF" territory.

And then there was G who has always loved the beach.
Loved the waves.
Loved the sand.
He's almost 12, and evidently, those days are over.
He even complained about being away from friends for two weeks.

The kids are simply getting to an age where the things that keep them sufficiently occupied for extended periods of time years ago no longer do the trick.
I myself do not wish to sit and play in the sand for hours every day on the beach.
That is a very childlike thing to do.
Adulting, in many cases, means it takes a lot more to keep you entertained.

I've noticed that they are all starting to like more adult things, like Stranger Things, which isn't a "little kid" show at all.
And adult music.

Yesterday, M got braces, which N also had when she was around 9 or 10 due to a lovely familial underbite issue.

When I took both boys for an orthodontic check in early June, M going into braces was not even remotely on my radar.
And now it is not only on my radar but installed and paid for.

This photo just screams, "BABYFACE. I AM STILL YOUR BABY, MOM!"

One hour later

This photo screams: I AM NOW A TEENAGER. OFF TO COLLEGE SOON, MOM.

And don't get me wrong: I'm not sad that my kids are growing up. 

I'm not sad that they can fix their own lunches and stay at home while I run errands.

I'm not sad that they no longer through tantrums because I gave them a red instead of a green sippy cup.

If there is anything I'd hate about being a Duggar-style family, it is being stuck in what feels like a baby/infant/toddler/preschooler cycle for freakin' ever. 

What we're having to do as a family, though, is submit to the changes that are happening and accept their realities. 

Like, in a couple years, we likely won't have family vacations as we have always known them.

We may not even have "vacations" since they may be glorified college exploration trips. 

Once G is off at college and M is home at high school, we may reconsider our "absolutely no friends on vacations" rule. 

Always having had an older sibling around may make M want/need a buddy to hang out with. 

Our family has always been in a state of flux, but the flux is more apparent now.

Vacationing in a post-hurricane locale

We had a two week trip to the beach, which for D was a slice o' heaven.
The children and I would not characterize it that way.
That's not to say it was a bad vacation; it was a good vacation.

The place we went, Cape San Blas, was hit by Hurricane Michael in October 2018, so it was, in some ways, a construction zone. We were fortunate that the main road leading there was completed during our visit.

This is what the road going to the Cape looked like last year after the storm hit.



Here is another shot from last year:


So for the building we stayed in to look like this wasn't too bad (below), although it wasn't the lush, tropical beautiful ideal that most vacationers would like. There were railings missing and blue tarpaulins. Our condo was fine, even though they had gotten over 2 feet of water.

When the hurricane happened, D worried a bit, but my rationale was that the area needed our vacation dollars more than ever. And we had no reference point, so why not go and see?

The beach was lovely, and we were a short walk from St. Joseph Peninsula State Park, which was essentially torn in half due to the hurricane. The northern part of the part is currently unreachable except if you walk there.

Here are pics before the hurricane and after. Sand is now beginning to fill in the space that was breached by the storm.

Here is the road that was destroyed by the storm.

This is the other side where the road continues. 

This is the middle where the road and trees used to be. 

We drove to Panama City one day to break up the beach days and saw Mexico Beach where the eye of the hurricane hit. Obviously, things have improved since this video below was made, but it is obviously in bad shape even eight months later.

In some ways, knowing this place had been through so much made us better, more flexible vacationers. I'm a pretty realistic traveler, but this made me more so.

My parents joined us the first four days, and my MIL got to spend two full weeks watching the dysfunction of our family in all its glory.

My dad and M going into the water. 

My MIL burying G. 

We played ball on the beach with a visiting dog named Hoss.
We took strolls on the beach every night and saw random critters.
We went to Wonderworks, Ripley's, and mini golf in Panama City.
We took an airboat ride in Apalachicola and saw baby gators.
We went horseback riding on the Cape beach.
We watched many episodes of Stranger Things and played Life.
I finished 6 books.
And we were all happy to get back home (except D, although the cats have been snuggling up to him all afternoon so I think he'll be ok).