Blog Hop...

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We're All "...Like That"

You might not believe this, but I’m a talker. I talk a lot, to a lot of people. Last weekend, I struck up a conversation with a woman sitting next to me at a sporting event; and I’m still thinking about that conversation. She was a nurse. When I told her that I was a speech language pathologist, she commented “Oh, I could never work with ‘kids like that’”. What? “Kids like that”? What did she mean? I think she meant it as a compliment to me, but I must have looked at her funny, because she got up to use the bathroom and didn’t come back. I’ve been thinking about what I wish I would have said to her.

I wish I would have said in an honest, non-judgmental, teaching kind of way, that “kids like that” are just regular kids. They have mothers and fathers who love them. They eat the same kinds of food as their peers. “Kid’s like that” play, cry, smile, laugh, sleep, and love. They learn to roll over, crawl, cruise and walk, as they are able. They learn to communicate their wants and needs and play and interact with those around them. “Kids like that” might learn to do these skills differently than other kids, but they’re just as meaningful.

I think the woman meant to say that she was uncomfortable with people who are different than she is; people who require special needs. But isn’t that every single person? Isn’t each of us different from each other, and require our own set of special needs? I have a child who has a disorder that requires me to make different food for him…I also have a perfectly healthy child who is such a picky eater that I’m often making a PB&J sandwich for him at suppertime. What’s the difference? Don’t we all come from somewhat dysfunctional families with skeletons in our closets? We’re all “…like that”.

“Kids like that” might walk, talk, look or act differently than we do, but so what? Sometimes I walk, talk, look, and act differently than the people surrounding me. Maybe “kids like that” are really intended to teach the rest of us about respect and acceptance. I don't know anyone who has a physical difference that sits and judges others the way that they are judged! Everyone is different. Everyone has special needs. Everyone is worthy of love, acceptance and a fulfilling life. If we can remember that there is a person behind all those differences, and focus on getting to know that person, we might meet someone we like. And, if we aren't able to see that person, then maybe we don't deserve that friendship anyway.

It's simple; everybody needs to be loved for exactly who they are. Let's spread the love.

Margaret

Enough is Enough is Enough..

Will there ever come a time when “enough” is all I crave? I find that I am always looking, searching, striving, believing, expecting, and desiring more. I want a bigger house, more money, new shoes, and a trip to NYC. I need more time, more counter space, more financial security, and more sleep. I want to learn to play piano, speak Spanish, tend a garden, and pole vault. I’m always looking for more. I want to be content with what I have, but for some reason, I keep striving for more.

I already have a lot to be thankful for. I have a happy, healthy family, a good job, a reliable car, food on the table, a funny husband (but don’t tell him I said that), girlfriends, and great memories. People call me on my birthday, I have friends to eat lunch with, and I always find a smiling, welcoming face in the crowd at ballgames. I get to take little trips, am organized, enjoy other people, can afford to go to the movies, and live in a nice house. I have everything I need and most of the things I want. Yet, I still find opportunities to complain and I’m absolutely inadequate at expressing my thankfulness for what I have.

I know what I have, but I don’t think I really appreciate it. I want to learn to balance what is important for me, to know what matters. I want to learn perspective. I want to continue to grow and to become a stronger, more reliable person, but not with things or with pressures. I just want to “be”, and be content with that.

My goal is to become the kind of person who is perfectly happy with who I am and where I am in life. I want to find joy in whatever I’m doing and with whomever I’m spending time. I want to speak kindly and patiently with others. I want to smile more and grumble less. I want to matter, but especially want others to know that they matter. I want my children to remember a happy, humble, gentle mother. I want my friends to feel appreciated, to know they are important to me. I will make time to touch base with the people in my life. I will mend any broken fences. I will write and send thank you cards, not just think about doing it. I will pray more for other people instead of for myself. I will enjoy what I’m doing when I’m doing it. I will roll with what life throws at me. I will focus on what I need. I will find balance in my life.

These are my goals, I know it will take time to achieve them all, but I’m starting now!

Margaret

Full of Greatness

Football season is upon us, and although I’m not the biggest fan, I do love a good game. My husband, on the other hand, is a die-hard football guy. He has attended KSU football games every year for the past 30 years; I have attended a handful. Even though our love and knowledge of the game vary, we easily agree that Bill Snyder is a great football coach. He’s great because he created success based on the strengths of his team. He didn’t focus on being a great coach; he focused on coaching his team into playing great football. It wasn’t about Bill Snyder, it was about the game.

I believe all of us are great at something. Like Bill, it can't be about us, it has to be about what we're doing...

Some of us are great parents. We are able to accept our children “as is”. We love them and nurture them and celebrate them for exactly who they are and for what they love to do, period. We don’t worry that our child isn’t fast enough, or smart enough, or exciting enough; we simply love and support who our child is and we’re fascinated to learn who they will become.

Some of us are great teachers. We are able to reach our students, not through our teaching style, but through their learning styles. We know that our classrooms are full of all different kinds of kids and families and experiences and attitudes and values. We teach to them, we don’t judge them. We appreciate our students and we want the best for all of them, equally.

Some of us are great artists. We draw and create, not what we see, but what we feel. We are true to ourselves and trust our instincts.

Some of us are great listeners. We know the difference between what is said and what is meant. We understand that hearing is not the same as listening.

Some of us are great musicians. We don’t just play the notes, we live the music.

Some of us are great therapists. We are able to build people up from wherever they are, moving forward a little at a time. We help people find themselves, find their confidence, and find their strengths. We believe, even celebrate, their success.

Some of us are great speakers. We are successful at motivating others to step out of their comfort zones and into life. We understand the importance of setting goals and reaching for stars.

Some of us are great students. We know that behavior, attitude, and work-ethic are learned. We are students of everything, constantly studying to better ourselves.

Some of us are great spouses, friends, workers, leaders, organizers, creators, builders, believers…etc. We all are full of greatness. We just have to move out of the way and let it shine through.

Margaret

Back To School Blues

OK, I'm not trying to depress anyone here, just calling it like it is...

Well, here I sit on the last day of my kid’s summer vacation. It’s a day I don’t adore; a day I don’t look forward to, a day I wish would never come. It signifies that another year of adventure and growth has come and gone and a new one is about to start. Not that I don’t look forward to new adventure and growth, I do, I’m just never ready for my kids to “grow up” to that next grade level.

Think about it, kids grow up at the end of summers. They go from old 4th graders to new 5th graders. From Jr. High kids to high-school students, from their bedrooms to their college dorm rooms; it all happens at the end of August. This year is no different and I’m not ready.

When I look at my kid’s pictures, I notice that they aren’t frozen moments taken in early January, with the start of a new calendar year; they are taken in early September with the start of a new school year. I notice the differences in their face shapes and sideways grins and wonder how I missed those subtleties that must have occurred right in front of me. Although I’m excited for my children – new friends, new rules, new academic challenges; I’m sad, just a little, for myself. I think back on the events of the last year and realize that I don’t really remember all that much. I make a mental note to take more pictures, say “yes” more often, give hugs and kisses generously (I think I do this pretty well), and pay attention to everything that happens in the next crazy year.

I really should be prepared for this day; each year, there are tell-tale signs that the end of August is nearing. Back-to-School supply areas begin popping up in stores. Kids become anxious about whether they’ll get a top or bottom locker (most like top, by the way). They compare who has what teacher and start requesting specific notebook themes and colors. They may ask questions about whether they should try out for clubs and sports, or hope out-loud that certain kids are in their classes. They may worry that their clothes aren’t cute enough, their hair isn’t long enough, or their jeans aren’t tight enough. They may decide they are ready to wear make-up or request an Oakley backpack. They may let you know that they will be taking their lunch in a brown paper bag – no more lunch-box, or that they will be buying their lunch this year. They may want to carry a purse, or request to take their i-touch on the bus. They may want you to drive them to school so they don’t have to take the bus at all. Your kids might want to stay up later at night, now that they are in an older grade. They might feel the need to have their own yahoo account or their own car. The list could go on and on…children continue to grow and mature and you continue to wonder how they got there so fast.

So as I sit here on the last day of my kids’ summer vacation, I relish the fact that I am still needed. I have shoes to buy, backpacks to locate and schedules to plan. Before I get started on those tasks, however, I am putting a new memory stick in my camera, so I’m prepared for all those changes my kids are about to make.

Life...It Is What It Is

“Mom, do you like your life?”

I froze for a second. I was caught completely off guard. I was in the middle of emptying the dishwasher and explaining to my children (again) why everyone DOES need to pitch-in with daily chores. I had been talking out-loud about the long list of wait-till-the-very-last-possible-moment-to-get-done items, the cost of braces, the impossibility of our activity schedule, and the necessity of dinner.

I look across the counter at the honest, adorable, intent, questioning face of my 10 year-old son. “Well, do you?” he inquired again.

I flashed back to my wedding day, still the happiest day of my life. I saw the quick births of my children, my first house, and my college graduation. I remembered puking babies, sleep deprived nights, screaming car trips, and petty fighting. I saw medical bills, food bills, daycare fees, and house payments. I saw spilled juice on the carpet, pee on the brand new couch, and food stuck in the crevices of the car. I remembered all the diapers, the wipes, the toys, the bottles, the books, the games and the laundry. I had no time for myself, no time for my husband, and no time for my friends. I remembered pretending to sleep, hoping someone else -anyone else - would go get the crying child. Now the youngest of those crying children is 10, and asking me if I liked my life.

A sudden rush of emotion came over me. I remembered all the grins, giggles, laughing, dancing, singing and being silly. I remembered family pictures, Christmas cards, bike rides, campfires, coloring, play-doh, finger-paint, swim lessons, back yard kick-ball, hide-and-seek, and bedtime monsters. I remembered the smells of freshly baked cookies and freshly bathed kids. I relived daily routines, butterfly kisses, bedtime stories, prayers, confessions, and finally silence. I remembered school programs, sports practices, piano lessons, birthday parties, Halloween costumes, Christmas mornings, sleep-overs, zoo trips, and snuggle time.

I remember discussions about what Big Bird might eat for breakfast, why grown-ups got to stay up late, and why cookies aren’t a meal. More recently they include curfew, driving, dating, sexting, parties, cliques, trips, manners, attitude, behavior, grades, and daily chores. It may not be what I had planned it to be, but…

“Yes” I said, “I love my life”.

Margaret

Ok, So I'm a Dweller

I’ll admit it, I’m a Dweller. I re-think, re-play, re-live, analyze, question, talk about, dissect, etc… a situation before I can be done with it. It can be a happy event, or a disturbing event. It can be funny, messy, personal, relative, realistic, uplifting or upsetting. It can even be something that happened to someone else. In whatever way I am affected, I always find something I wish I had done, said, or thought differently; and I dwell on it. Finally, I accept the fact that I cannot change the outcome, no matter how much energy I spend on it, and I begin to move on to a new dwelling event. I do not know what to do about my habit. I am not open to taking medication to control my thoughts. Whatever thoughts I have, they are truly my thoughts and I like that. But I do not like dwelling.

My husband, on the other hand, is a Roller. He is able to experience any situation, react however he happens to react, accept it, and then let it roll. He rarely re-thinks, re-plays, re-lives, analyzes, questions, talks about or dissects a situation more than once (to tell me about it). His stand is “I can’t do anymore about it now, so what’s the point?” He’s right. I want to be a Roller. I’m working on Rolling. But I am still a Dweller.

I am also a “what if”er and “if only”er. I don’t think I’m the only one to play that game. I think (sometimes out loud) to myself “What if I did THIS?”, Or “If only I’d done THAT”. I convince myself that the story would have a different ending, but actually, it would just have a different set of “what if”s and” if only”s to ponder. Why do I do that? I think I know the answer…

I’m an emotional person. I think with my head and with my heart. If my head and my heart are telling me the same thing, I can usually accept the outcome of my actions. It’s when my head tells me one thing and my heart another that I find myself dwelling about my actions.

When what you know, what you think, and what you feel are different, you have options, and options create opportunities; opportunities create choices, and what you choose is your action. What you don’t choose becomes your “what if” and your “if only”. Dwellers focus on the options they didn’t use. We save them, feed them, and let them enter our minds. Rollers focus on the option they did use, and wad up the leftovers and roll them away.

I want to be a Roller…I will learn to roll.

Margaret