I have always hated clothes shopping. Hated it with a passion. Would consider walking around naked to avoid it. I am the proud parent of a 13, soon to be 14 year old daughter. A beautiful, thin, long red haired daughter. Who happens to be a clothes horse. A serious clothes horse. We got to our first store at 5:15 p.m. tonight. We left (after purchasing 8 shirts and having her try on triple that) at 6:30. We still had stores to go to. We didn't make it. I swung through the local grocery store, the chinese restaurant and home (7:30 p.m.) I am exhausted and all I had to do was pay the bills! I am ready for bed!
She's amazing! She has her own style, nothing cookie cutter about her. She knows what she likes and ain't afraid to say so. She is happy with who she is, she is happy with her looks. She is at home in her skin. She now has braces, which is all she's wanted for 2+ years. That was the only thing she hated about her body, her teeth. Her world is perfect.
I marvel at that. I know grown adults with less than half the confidence she has. You don't rattle her. She doesn't get upset easily. She gets mad, mostly at her brothers, but life just doesn't have that kind of hold on her. After one of my daily whines about this or that, she calmly said to me "oh stop getting upset. You can choose happiness, so do so. Frankly, they aren't worth this. They aren't worth this kind of energy. Why waste your time with them?" This from the mouth of a 13 year old. She reminds me of the old story of the 2 monks. Both monks belonged to a monastery that forbid talking during certain hours and absolutely no touching of females. On their way to town one day, both monks see that a boat had capsized in the river and a woman appeared to be drowning. Without missing a beat, one monk threw off his robes and dove into the water. He saved the woman by getting her to shore. He put his robes back on and joined the other monk, who was standing there with a shocked expression on his face. When the time for talking finally arrived, the older monk turned to his younger monk and said "I don't understand it! You not only broke the silence, you disrobed, and jumped in the water and saved that woman. You know we forbid touching females. I can't believe it!" The older monk went on and on. Finally the younger monk turned to him and said "Of the two of us, I believe you carry the larger burden. It took me 10 minutes to save that woman. I saved her an hour and a half ago. You have been carrying her ever since." My daughter got that story. At 13. My 19 year old son doesn't get it. I don't think my husband truly gets it. But she does. And I stand in awe.
She has confidence the size of Mt. Everett. She inspires me to rise above it. She always says that everything is a choice. So choose happiness. She does. I know of no one happier than her.
Wednesday, August 21, 2013
Monday, August 19, 2013
Sometimes it's so easy..........
I have a private blog that 250 people have signed on to read. Not that they all do, I do know that around 50-70 do, as they comment pretty regularly. It is where I let my hair down (which might not be saying much as I've cut my hair really short) and I can control who gets in. If you work at BIW, the automatic answer is "no". This is my "get out the anger" area. I discuss work, my family (in more intimate details that here) and I don't mince words and I "write it the way I see it". Fair? Probably not. But I have to admit, I have some serious supporters. It's nice to know that when YOU think it's only YOU, and you spend some time venting, then you find out no, many others think it's them and not you, you sleep better. I smile alot more now.
But I learned something this weekend. One of my most active supporters (and critics; she ain't shy about telling me when she thinks I am wrong; sometimes I wish she'd be a bit less honest!) told me "Maya Angelou said that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel".
Wow. We are all a "feeling" group. Women, maybe more so than men, when talking about something, almost always invoke feelings to describe things. They way something felt, smelt, tasted........and yes, how we felt when someone made us indescribably happy or devastatingly sad. I've been both. And I can describe in detail how I felt. Years later. Decades later. As if it were yesterday. If you made me angry and I think about it, I feel positive that a blood pressure cuff would show an increase in the pressure while I recall the instance. I remember how I felt when I saw my husband to be standing down at the alter,waiting for me to make that long walk towards him. That was 22 year ago. I recall the smell of my son when I first held him. After child #2 was born without a pulse, I remember the silence of the delivery room, the fear, the overwhelming sadness and the joy of that soft, quiet cry. I recall playing with my daughter's hair the day she was born, surprised and not surprised by the head full of red hair. The frustration I felt when a mother who had no prior knowledge of the tests we'd already had given our son to find out what exactly his issues were, and the diagnosis we both worried would mean a harder than necessary life for him, decided that she'd make me and our family her own mission to assist and correct. The relief when another mother, who'd been a silent witness to this, came to me later and stood by me, letting me pour out my frustration to her and acting as a buffer between us when she knew I'd be probably needing a lawyer if this person didn't leave me alone and soon. That indescribable feeling holding the hand of a loved one while he died. I've done that twice, with my father in law and with my own dad. The loss this year of a beloved grandmother, whose memories flood me with tears every time I recall something of my childhood in Florida. You never forget the way someone made you feel.
I hold no grudges. It ain't easy and many times I have to remind myself that I hate having someone live rent free in my head so change my thoughts and do so quickly. I've seen Karma return to the perpetrator on more than one occasion and if you turn over all your anger and resentment, then the Karma that could be busy wrecking your life will happily attach itself to those to whom it should. I remember seeing someone get their's and knowing that the only reason they did was because I stepped out of the way. Let go and let God. Not easy that. We are a generation of "right now". We want justice RIGHT NOW. We want equality RIGHT NOW. We want our just rewards RIGHT NOW. Doesn't work that way. You will get what you will get but when Karma feels it's good and ready for you to receive it. God's timetable, not mine. And that is always my stumbling block.
I have that issue loads when it comes to my spinning wheel. I mentally get it (how to spin), I've done my homework, I've seen the videos (I OWN the videos, and books, and fiber, and taken classes and......) and yet it's taking me longer to do it with any sort of reliability. I learned sewing lickity split. I learned knitting, crocheting, quilting, counted cross stitch and needlepoint lickity split. This is my stumbling block. This is my trip zone. This is my "wall". And now, I'm the proud owner of a Harrisville Design loom. The final thing on my bucket list to learn to do. Should I wait till I get the spinning down? Should I get busy on the loom and tackle that right away? Should I just pour a glass of wine (or whine, take your pick) and wait for inspiration to hit me? Should I just hit something myself? I don't know yet.
So, I am going to wait. I am busy doing some serious fall cleaning. I am spending many hours blogging about the insane-ness of my job (I believe the phrase "Disneyland North" has been uttered by me and more than once, I might add). I had 5 notes tonight from people around the country who said that the way I wrote about Bath Iron Works made them feel better about their job. One commented on my analysis of some meetings we've attended and how she laughed so hard her tea came out her nose. She thought she'd forgotten how that could happen. And she felt great.
I sure hope so.
But I learned something this weekend. One of my most active supporters (and critics; she ain't shy about telling me when she thinks I am wrong; sometimes I wish she'd be a bit less honest!) told me "Maya Angelou said that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel".
Wow. We are all a "feeling" group. Women, maybe more so than men, when talking about something, almost always invoke feelings to describe things. They way something felt, smelt, tasted........and yes, how we felt when someone made us indescribably happy or devastatingly sad. I've been both. And I can describe in detail how I felt. Years later. Decades later. As if it were yesterday. If you made me angry and I think about it, I feel positive that a blood pressure cuff would show an increase in the pressure while I recall the instance. I remember how I felt when I saw my husband to be standing down at the alter,waiting for me to make that long walk towards him. That was 22 year ago. I recall the smell of my son when I first held him. After child #2 was born without a pulse, I remember the silence of the delivery room, the fear, the overwhelming sadness and the joy of that soft, quiet cry. I recall playing with my daughter's hair the day she was born, surprised and not surprised by the head full of red hair. The frustration I felt when a mother who had no prior knowledge of the tests we'd already had given our son to find out what exactly his issues were, and the diagnosis we both worried would mean a harder than necessary life for him, decided that she'd make me and our family her own mission to assist and correct. The relief when another mother, who'd been a silent witness to this, came to me later and stood by me, letting me pour out my frustration to her and acting as a buffer between us when she knew I'd be probably needing a lawyer if this person didn't leave me alone and soon. That indescribable feeling holding the hand of a loved one while he died. I've done that twice, with my father in law and with my own dad. The loss this year of a beloved grandmother, whose memories flood me with tears every time I recall something of my childhood in Florida. You never forget the way someone made you feel.
I hold no grudges. It ain't easy and many times I have to remind myself that I hate having someone live rent free in my head so change my thoughts and do so quickly. I've seen Karma return to the perpetrator on more than one occasion and if you turn over all your anger and resentment, then the Karma that could be busy wrecking your life will happily attach itself to those to whom it should. I remember seeing someone get their's and knowing that the only reason they did was because I stepped out of the way. Let go and let God. Not easy that. We are a generation of "right now". We want justice RIGHT NOW. We want equality RIGHT NOW. We want our just rewards RIGHT NOW. Doesn't work that way. You will get what you will get but when Karma feels it's good and ready for you to receive it. God's timetable, not mine. And that is always my stumbling block.
I have that issue loads when it comes to my spinning wheel. I mentally get it (how to spin), I've done my homework, I've seen the videos (I OWN the videos, and books, and fiber, and taken classes and......) and yet it's taking me longer to do it with any sort of reliability. I learned sewing lickity split. I learned knitting, crocheting, quilting, counted cross stitch and needlepoint lickity split. This is my stumbling block. This is my trip zone. This is my "wall". And now, I'm the proud owner of a Harrisville Design loom. The final thing on my bucket list to learn to do. Should I wait till I get the spinning down? Should I get busy on the loom and tackle that right away? Should I just pour a glass of wine (or whine, take your pick) and wait for inspiration to hit me? Should I just hit something myself? I don't know yet.
So, I am going to wait. I am busy doing some serious fall cleaning. I am spending many hours blogging about the insane-ness of my job (I believe the phrase "Disneyland North" has been uttered by me and more than once, I might add). I had 5 notes tonight from people around the country who said that the way I wrote about Bath Iron Works made them feel better about their job. One commented on my analysis of some meetings we've attended and how she laughed so hard her tea came out her nose. She thought she'd forgotten how that could happen. And she felt great.
I sure hope so.
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