What I did right (maybe)

What I Did Right (Maybe)

"Raising children is an uncertain thing. Success is reached only after a lifetime of battle and worry." - Democratus

"Like all parents, we just do the best we can and hold our breath and hope we've set aside enough money for our kid's therapy."  - Michelle Pfeiffer

"I just flew by the seat of my pants and hoped for the best." - Grandma Bean

I recently had the great pleasure of attending my daughter's work conference, Playtopia2014. This brings me to the portion of the year when people tell me what a wonderful daughter I have and how she must have been raised right, and which makes me feel wonderful and like a fraud all at the same time.

I have said before that I was an immature Mom and that I grew up alongside my children. I discussed this recently with a good friend and as I went over a laundry list of my perceived mistakes and shortcomings, she said, "Carole, look at your children. They weren't raised by wolves! You must have done something right." It's true; they are hard working, funny, loving, responsible and compassionate people, who are terrific partners to their spouses and the absolute best parents to their own kids. I decided instead of looking at what I think I did wrong, and how I could have done it a different way (and no doubt just made different mistakes) I would look at ways in which I might have made a positive difference in their lives. It is easy to sit down and make a list of what I might have done wrong.....much harder to reflect on what I maybe did right. But here goes:

It Takes a Village
It was wonderful listening to Debra McNamara speak at Playtopia. I so related to all that she had to say, especially about "bridging" where you turn your children over to other members of the family or care-givers who can fill in the area's where you might not be strong.

I wasn't a "playing mom" and felt inadequate in many areas. I am told by my Mom that I was an "Old Soul" from a very early age and although I grew up with a terrific work ethic, I don't think I learned how to be playful. So as a Mom I swallowed my ego, and I exposed my children to people who were positive role models, and who could give them what I couldn't. This was difficult.....sometimes I had to swallow my pride on a daily basis to give them what they needed. I sent my children all summer, every summer, to stay with my parents at their Lake home. My son and his grandfather had a particularly close relationship. They spent many hours together, sitting in a boat on a lake, fishing and passing the time. (I found out later that my father also taught my son some very specific cuss words, but never mind.) My parents helped me give them what they needed and from this time my children also learned how to get along with a different generation and how to relate to older people. Today at family gatherings there doesn't seem to be the same generational interaction. All the children are on devices and seldom connect with the seniors in the family. One of the things I am most proud of is how kind my children are to the elderly.

Accountability
There are two stories I tell about this. The first is when my son was about 13, and he borrowed my Mom's bike one evening to ride around the lake to see his friend. Instead of riding the bike home, he and his friends rowed a boat across the lake, leaving the bike behind. I was very upset about this and sent him on foot, in the dark, back to his friend's house to retrieve his Nana's bike. Every ounce of my being wanted to drive him to pick it up because he was afraid of the dark....but I didn't. He needed a lesson in being responsible. (Did I feel guilty? Hell yes! I still feel guilty! But he can't remember the incident, so it was either not a big deal or it is buried deeply in his psyche and one day he will snap and beat on me with a bicycle.) The second story involves my daughter. (I'm not going to say which daughter, but um, here's a hint.....I only have one. Sorry Baby!) When she was about 16, she once came home shall we say, a little intoxicated. (In much the same way as a fluffy kitty is a "little cute".) I put her in the bath, put her to bed, woke her up every hour through the night to make sure she was okay, then at 6am I woke her up and made her go to work at her weekend job at KFC. Oh yes, I did. She spent a day frying chicken in hot grease and came home very sick. I thought about this many years later when I was working in an ER and a young girl was brought in unconscious from an overdose of alcohol. She had a party at her house while her parents were away and it got out of control. The home was trashed, with hundreds of thousands of dollars of damage. When the girl regained consciousness her family didn't want to take her back to her home because "she will be upset when she sees the mess." I can tell you, if that had been my child, not only would she have been taken home to be upset by the mess, but she would have been handed a broom on the way in, and would not have left again until the mess was cleaned up. Consequences.....they will learn it eventually, better they learn at your knee. I did that.

Flexibility
I was a working mother. Not only that, but I worked shifts and stat holidays. We had to fit in family celebrations around my shifts. As well, they had a mother that worked in a field where she often had sad stories to tell. They learned compassion and how to think of others. I taught them that if they were going to compare themselves to people who had everything, then they also had to compare themselves to people who had nothing.

Resilience
Because I was immature, not all of the decisions I made were based on, shall we say, good common sense. My children were there during one of the worst times of my life. For a period of time, they were the only reason I got up in the morning. They held me together while I set out on a different path in life and they were the reason I stayed on the path. They saw me and they stood by me, on my darkest days. They witnessed first hand that a person can fall apart completely, but move through the pain and come out the other side, stronger for the bending. In my mind, resilience is the single most important quality to instill in a child. I provided the catalyst for that.

So there you have it. I did the best with what I knew and to quote Maya Angelou, when I knew better, I did better. So for now, I will join in on the praise of my great kids.......because no Mom could be prouder.

On resiliency

On Resiliency

"The human capacity for burden is like bamboo~far more flexible than you'd ever believe at first glance."  - Jodi Picoult

'If your heart is broken, make art with the pieces."  - Shane Koyczon

"Childhood is a training ground for resiliency.  But you need to get out of the way."  - Grandma Bean

The other day my Grand-daughter, Cici, was telling me about a terrible disappointment that she had experienced which broke her heart (and mine, for her.)  She had a solo narrative part in her Choir recital that she had been rehearsing for months.  The night of the recital something went wrong and they skipped over her part.  She told me the next day that her eyes were sore from crying.  It got me to thinking about resiliency and how important it is in our lives, and how vital it is to learn when we are children. 

The dictionary defines resiliency as:

1.         The ability of a substance or object to spring back into shape; elasticity.

2.         The capacity to recover quickly from difficulties; toughness.

I've always been fascinated by this subject and why some of us bounce back while others break from the bending.  When my children were young I remember a time when something went terribly wrong for Traci and I had trouble dealing with the pain she was experiencing.  It was excruciating to watch my daughter suffer and I would have done anything to take away her pain.  Then someone in my life, who was very wise, gave me some advice which I have never forgotten.  She told me that my children's pain was THEIR pain, not mine and that no matter how much it hurt me to see them suffer, I had to get out of the way.   "Indeed," she told me, "You have no RIGHT to try to take it away.  It is not your business.  This is how they will become resilient and to be able to move on through pain when you are no longer around.  Guide, but do not take away!" 

Forever after, I allowed my children to experience their own disappointments.  When my daughter was a teen-ager, I would get her to make lists after a disappointment or a hurt.  She wrote down her feelings about the experience and what was the best and the worst things that could result from it.  Invariably something would happen later to make her glad she had had that particular disappointment. It helped her to identify her emotions and later she could see how it all worked out for the best.

These were very necessary lessons for my child and the training ground for adult problems.   After marrying and trying for many years to conceive, Traci became pregnant. She and Brad had about a week to experience their happiness when it became apparent that she had suffered a tubal pregnancy and they lost the child they had wanted so badly.  My heart broke for her, but I knew that she would ultimately be okay, because she had learned the resilient lesson when she was young.  The loss of that baby put into motion the events that later resulted in the birth of her two beautiful girls, Cailin and Colbie, who none of us can even imagine our lives without.

I think of my Father's generation - A child of the Depression, and then a World War, my father had a brutal childhood, full of deprivation and even neglect.  He told me a story of how when he was about eight, he was pulling a wagon full of winter supplies home to the homestead.  During the trip, the kerosene that they needed for lighting spilled onto the flour they would use for their bread....maybe the only food they would have for the long winter. There was no money to buy more, so they had to live on Kerosene-flavored bread for the whole winter.  The resilience that he developed through these years made it possible for him to move on and raise a family of his own.  When he spoke about these experiences later, he often related them with humor.  (In fact, I think it was his sense of humor that allowed him to survive his childhood.)

I am certainly not suggesting that our children should suffer deprivation to learn resiliency, but I fear that we are so busy absorbing our children's pain that we are raising a generation of children that do not know how to cope without us.

So in this vein, I have put together a little quiz to determine how resilient you are.

1.  Your plans for the evening fall through.  You:

a.         Pour a glass of wine and sit down with a good book.

b.         Pour a bottle of wine into a vase.  Drink the wine and then sob quietly into a book.

2.  Your babysitter develops Norovirus on a day you had planned to shop.  You:

a.         Pack up the kids and go for a picnic in the park.

b.         Drop the children off on your babysitter's doorstep with a roll of toilet paper and a bucket, and then head for H&M.

3.  You are laid off from a job you just started a week ago.  You:

a.         Cry a little, eat a carton of Baskin Robbins Pistachio Almond Ice Cream, go home and revamp your resume.  Then you feed your children and put them to bed.

b.         Ugly cry, stop at the liquor store and pick up a Box O' Wine, go home and throw a tin of soup and a can-opener at your children, go to your room, drink your Box O' Wine and then drunk text all your friends until morning.

4.  Your child doesn't get accepted on to the Cheerleading Squad after she has told you that her life will be ruined if she is rejected.  You:

a.         Feed her a tub of Baskin Robbins Pistachio Almond Ice Cream, dry her tears, and keeping your cool, matter of factly assure her that better things await.

b.         Immediately put a contract out on the Bee-atch that is in charge of the squad because she obviously does not recognize real talent when she sees it.

Now if you answered mostly A's, then you are probably pretty resilient.  If however, you answered mostly B's, well don't worry  At one time in my life I answered mostly B's, and well, my children turned out to be pretty resilient in spite of it. (Um....or maybe BECAUSE of it)  Oh well, never mind. 

- Grandma Bean

Perhaps a little empathy is in order.

"The rate at which a person can mature is directly proportional to the embarrassment he can tolerate."
- Douglas Englebart

"I have learned that there is a certain character to be built from embarrassing yourself endlessly.  If you can sit happily with embarrassment there's not much else that can get to you."
- Christian Bale

"Keep moving people....there's nothing to see here...."
- Grandma Bean

I've been reading a lot in the paper these days about the Mayor of Toronto and certain videos and pictures that are surfacing and it made me think three things:

1.)    Here's a man in serious need of help and I hope he gets it.
2.)    He needs to get new friends.
3.).   I'm glad there was no such thing as cell phone cameras back in the day when I was doing embarrassing things.

I have made a list of a few things that I'm glad were not caught on camera:

The time I lost my temper and threw a set of keys across the room, leaving a key-shaped impression in my kitchen wall.

The time I lost my temper and slammed open the bedroom door leaving a door-knob shaped impression in the bedroom wall.  (Anyone see a pattern here?)

The time I tucked an umbrella under my right arm, then glanced to my right and glimpsed the umbrella shape, thought someone was standing next to me, fell over backwards and left a Carole-shaped impression in the hallway wall.

The time I got very drunk at a party when I was young (but old enough to know better) and threw up behind the Juniper bush in my friends back-yard.

The time I accidentally hopped into the wrong car when I was waiting to be picked up, latched the seat belt and sat ready to be transported and didn't clue in until I heard, "Um.....excuse me Ma'am" from the complete stranger sitting in the drivers seat.

The time I was in labor with my first child and things weren't progressing after 12 hours of exhausting contractions and the doctor came in at midnight and told me if I hadn't delivered by morning they would consider a C-Section and I grabbed the front of his shirt, pulled his face down to mine and and yelled, "I'LL BE DEAD BY MORNING!!!"

The time I got sick at work and almost passed out after standing too long doing a procedure and my friends rushed me into the trauma room and yelled for the ER doctor and he came running over and started to examine me and I let out a flatus the size of a small child in front of everyone.

So I guess what I'm saying is, we are all just a cell phone camera click away from total and complete embarrassment.  Perhaps a little empathy is in order.

xoxo,

 

How bad can it be?

"I believe everyone should have a broad picture of how the Universe operates and our place in it.  It is a basic human desire. And it also puts our worries into perspective."

- Stephen Hawking

"A brain hemorrhage puts it all in a deeper perspective.  I'm one of the guys hit by lightning.  I see the big picture.  Everything is in perspective now.  Let's just say I'm the kind of guy who knows how to enjoy the moment."

- Bret Michaels

"Call the Police.......someone ate my chocolate!!"

- Grandma Bean

As I came home from shopping the other day, my hubby greeted me with the words, "I have bad news."  "Oh my gosh, what happened," I asked, alarmed. "The toilet in the ensuite has a leak," he told me.  Well apparently we have very different ideas on what constitutes "bad news".  Bad news to me is your Grandma died or the dog is sick or your hubby found that Mars Bar you have been hiding in the back of the cupboard, and ate it.  It got me thinking about what we consider bad news. 

Coming from my Nursing background, I have a very clear idea of what is and is not bad news. The worst thing I ever had to deal with in my Nursing career was when a beautiful young man from a loving family made a very foolish decision to try to smuggle a very small amount of cocaine into the country after traveling.  He swallowed a condom filled with cocaine, the condom broke open as his plane landed and he ended up in my ICU on a ventilator.  He lived three days but never regained consciousness.  The hardest call I ever had to make was to his family when they finally left to get a little rest and I had to tell them he was not doing well and to come back quickly.  So to me, bad news is certainly not "the toilet is leaking." 

Here are some definitions to keep in mind:

Catastrophe:  A sudden unexpected event that causes great damage or suffering; a final decisive event, usually with a disastrous end.

Syn: Disaster, calamity, accident, cataclysm.

Inconvenience:  Trouble or difficulty disrupting personal requirements or comfort; cause trouble or discomfort to.

Syn. Trouble, bother, nuisance, discomfort.

Broadly speaking, everything is relative.  We all have bad days when things seem way worse than they actually are.  But these are a few things to keep in mind for anyone who thinks a leaking toilet is bad news.  Perspective is everything.  You will never ever hear me uttering the words "bad news" or "bad luck," over anything that is a minor inconvenience.  As long as my family is well, everything else is gravy.  In the meantime, if you need me, I will be at the store.  Apparently we are out of Mars Bars.

xoxo, 

"Grand-Parenting" as a Verb

"Nobody can do for a child what a Grandparent can do. Grandparents sort f sprinkle stardust over the lives of little children.." - Author Unknown

"The best babysitter, of course, is your child's Grandparents. You feel completely comfortable entrusting your children to them for long periods; which is why many Grandparents move to Florida." - Dave Barry

"No, Nana's okay Sweetie. I'm just resting my eyes." - Grandma Bean

Some random musings after spending four days with two little girl Grand-Beans:

Every life has a rhythm. One of the joys of my life is that I know and understand the rhythms of my little Grand-Beans. I love that I know how they move through their lives, how they take up their space, what they need to hear and how to comfort them when they are sad. What a privilege that is. Just as Daddies do not "babysit" their own children, I do not believe Grand-parents babysit either. Grand-parenting to me is a verb. It is an action. I had a loving, involved Grandmother, my children had a loving, involved Grandmother and I will make sure my Grandchildren have a loving, involved Grandmother. Having said that, here is a recent conversation between me and my Babiest Bean.

Colbie: (Sitting in DQ eating an ice cream cone) "You know Nana, when I was a little girl, I justwanted my mommy mommy mommy. But now, I'm really starting to like you." (I'm pretty much liking you too, Baby Girl!)

Here in a nutshell is the difference between me as a Mom and me as a Nana...

Bean: Why do I have to __________? (Fill in the Blank)

Me as Nana: Explain, Explain, Explain.....Explain again. Re-explain.

Bean: Why do I have to ___________?

Me as Mom: Shut up, because I said so.

The hardest part of caring for two little girls was all the schlepping around that has to be done. Pick up, drop off here, pick up there and drop someone else off somewhere else. Pick them all up and on to the next activity. Remember to pack dance stuff, drumsticks, songbooks. When will we eat, and oh yes, by the way, who has time to cook what we eat? My friend said it reminded her of an old math problem. If Cailin goes by car to drum lessons from point A at 40 mp and Colbie goes by train to Kinderjazz from point B at 45 mph, how many minutes does it take for Nana to crash and burn?

Grandpa's can help too but before you get too excited about their involvement here are two exchanges demonstrating in a nutshell, the difference between Grandpa's and Nana's.

Nana: Okay, we have to pick up Child A and drop her off at dance. Then go back and pick up Child B and drop her off at dance. Then leave Child B in the company of Child A and go pick up Child C. Then come back and pick up A and B, then drop C off at home, then get dinner and get Child A ready for tutoring.

Grandpa: Um, wait what?

Nana: (Collapsing on couch after schlepping the children to and from all their activities, making chocolate chip pancakes for dinner, cleaning up and getting them ready for bed.) BOY am I TIRED!

Grandpa: (Coming in from golf course and grabbing a beer.) BOY am I TIRED!

Anyway, here is a wee list I made up of things to make for a successful extended playdate with the Grand Beans:

Shop for food and stock up on things that the children will actually eat. As much as you believe that children should eat what's put in front of them, when you are in charge of keeping them alive for 4 days, now is not the time to stand on principal or make a point. So if all they will eat is chicken nuggets, Nana's famous hot buns, fries, chocolate chip pancakes and celery with peanut butter, then that's what you give them.

Two words: Dollar Stores. Make use of them often. A trip to the Dollar Store counts as an activity all unto itself.

Make sure your own house is in order. It may seem counter-productive to clean before they come over, but you will be glad you did. Make sure your laundry is caught up, the fridge is stocked and you will feel better if you can actually remember the last time your bathroom was cleaned.

You might want to bone up on your Barbie conversations. You will have to play Barbie's 3,477 times over the time you are together. If the only thing you can think of for Barbie to say is "Lets go shopping Mommy," that's not going to work in my circles. Have a Rolodex filled with Barbie-speak, like, "Mommy, Lets go see the Matisse exhibition at the Art Gallery in New York," and "Mommy, I'm thinking about dumping Ken." Also, practice putting those !%%@#! little shoes on those tiny little feet.

Work out, strength train, Hydrate hydrate hydrate. Ride a bike to Whistler while listening to the theme from Rocky. Twice. Run a marathon. Whatever it takes. You will need to be in the best shape of your life.

Name that feeling.

"When the student is ready, the teacher will appear." - Buddha

"I have no more love in my heart." - Colbie Costa

"Feeling?  What feeling?" - Grandma Bean

The other day, my Grand-Bean Colbie was upset about something that happened that she thought was very unfair.  When her Mom went to talk to her about it, she said to her Mom, "I have no more love in my heart."  Dramatic, perhaps, but so impressive that this tiny little girl could tell you exactly what she was feeling.  I have felt no love in my heart many times in my life, but I didn't have a name to put on it.  It got me to thinking that even 4-year olds have something to teach me about "Naming that Feeling." I do think women of my generation tend to have more difficulty identifying our emotions.  We were raised in a more "Stiff Upper Lip, Never Let Them See You Sweat" kind of way.  Most families of my generation didn't talk about our family issues, under the assumption that if you don't acknowledge the problems, they don't really exist.  Or maybe we just didn't have the words to identify the problem in the same way children do today. Later I went into a profession where a stiff upper lip was essentially required.  You could not fall apart in front of people who were injured or gravely ill.  In those days there were no Post-Traumatic debriefings.......you just sucked it up, and then swallowed Valium until you were comatose.  This was obviously not a perfect system.  As a 19 year old student nurse, with no life experience, I did my rotation in Labor and Delivery.  One night a seasoned maternity nurse came into the room where I was working, carrying a package, which she handed to me.  What she had given to me with no explanation, I quickly realized, was a small stillborn baby.  As I stood there, trying to process this, she told me, without emotion, to go weigh the tiny tyke.....apparently something that was required for medical records. That was the first of countless times over the years that I swallowed down my emotions and like Nike says" just did it".

  

When I was working in Emergency, we had a little chart at the triage desk that we used to help children identify their level of pain....from a neutral face to a smiley face to a crying face; it showed the gamut of emotions.  I realized that all my life I needed a version of this chart in my head because sometimes it took me days or weeks to figure out what I was feeling.

Recently, I found out on Facebook that there had been a surprise birthday party for a close family member, to which everyone, except me, had been invited.  I consulted the little chart in my head and it still took me one week to establish that what I was feeling was HURT.  Hurt feelings!!!  What a concept.  This in spite of the fact that everyone I told this story to said the same thing: "You must have been really hurt!" 

I've written before that I believe that everyone in our lives has something to teach us.  For me, those "Everyone's" happen to be the children in my life.  Cailin has taught me to be brave....and now Colbie has taught me how to put a name to the face.  Maybe I can soon get rid of that chart in my head.  Today, though, I know for sure that I have a TON of love in my heart.  Thank you Baby Girl!

xoxo,

Bean there done that

The Healing Power of Trees

  

Today I was in such a funk!  A funk that even my cheerful Granddaughter could not get me out of and that is aserious funk when she can't cheer me up!  I had suffered what I felt was an unkindness by someone close to me followed by a slight snub.  I couldn't get myself out of my slump nor did I want to.  I held my hurt to my chest, embracing the heck out of it, not able to let it go.   My eyes were sort of glazed, my voice a monotone.  I was also angry at myself for letting this nonsense get to me yet again.  

As I sat, firmly entrenched in my mood, my husband noticed our neighbours outside, digging a hole. There was a beautiful Japanese Maple tree standing nearby, waiting to be planted.  He decided to go out and see if he could help.  I stayed on the couch, sulking and feeling sad.  Soon, I heard laughter outside, and I glanced out, and saw a little crowd around the hole, shovels and wheelbarrows in hand, laughing and sweating, but chatting amiably as they worked.  Well, I thought, I guess I could just go out and see what's up.  Soon I was busy too, sifting dirt and raking soil.  An hour and a half later, the little tree was proudly situated in the hole. Our neighbors thanked us profusely for our help and we came inside.  It was then that I realized that my funk was gone.  I was no longer feeling sorry for myself.  I felt cheerful and optimistic.  I had badly needed to get outside of myself but didn't have the will to let go of my hurt and anger.  When I finally managed to let it all go, I felt so much better.  Now every time I see that beautiful tree outside my kitchen window, I will remember this lesson; Help out, do something nice for someone else, laugh and sweat and enjoy the company.  It will be good for you.

Bean there done that!

How to Tell You're a Grandma!

When I am dropping off, or picking up one of my Beans from their activities, it's often difficult to tell if the adults accompanying the other children are older mothers, or younger grandma's.  Sometimes the differences are subtle but I believe I have learned to tell the difference.  The Mom's often have a kind of deer in the headlights look, their minds racing ahead to what they still have to do.  The Grandma's have more of a peaceful look that says, "I get to drop off this little Munchkin later and then go out for a nice dinner with my friends." I have made up a wee list of what I perceive are clues to tell the difference. You know you're a grandma when: Every night before you go to bed, you have to wash glitter out of your pores.   You have a drawer in your house that holds nothing but glitter, glue, lace, buttons, pipe cleaners, scraps of pretty paper doilies and ribbon.   You have to call a 10 year old to help you reset your iPad and teach you how to text.   You often have breakfast for dinner.   You can actually eat a cookie that a 4-year old made with grubby little fingers.   You make "Fabulous Hot Buns."  (Thank you Miss Colbie Makena Costa.)   You have stars and glue stuck on your T-shirt but you don't bother changing it to go to the store.   When your grandchild does something you would never have let your child do, you just smile to yourself and say "Never Mind."   You look into the mirror and Oh Lordy, a grandma is staring back at you.   You find yourself saying things like Oh Lordy.   You secretly smile when your child tells you their kids are driving him/her crazy.   You get up out of a sick-bed because you promised a wee Bean a Nana/Granddaughter day.   You are amazed at the stuff you used to think was so important.   You get a tug at your heart when a 6-year old sings or dances badly in a play and you applaud like you have just attended a performance at the Met.   Your Motto is "Never pass up an opportunity to just shut up."   You climb into bed with a Grandpa every night, and you don't mind.  And your nightgown now contains more fabric than a backyard tent.   When you are babysitting you have to call the kids to find out how to work the baby monitor.   You plan every outing around where you can get a seniors discount.   Your 3-year old granddaughter has to show you how to buckle up her car seat.   You tell your toddler grandson French Fries are carrot sticks so it won't sound bad when he tells his Mom what Nana fed him while she was looking after him.   But what happens at Nana's stays at Nana's. (You just have to hope that they don't find a wayward fry in the child's clothing! Sorry Jan!)   After you tell your 9-year old granddaughter that you are going to be out of town for Mother's Day, she says, "Please do NOT tell me that my Mom is not going to have a mother around on Mother's Day!!" When your child arrives to pick up her Beans and the wee one's start behaving like Bohemians, you say "Funny, they were perfect angels all day."  Because they WERE!   Sadly, you leak as much as the Grand-babies do! There it is in a nutshell.  No more problems.  You're welcome.

Bean there done that!

I think I have always been a pretty non-judgmental person and I have been blessed with, (or cursed with) the ability to see all sides of any story. I was an ER nurse for 45 years. A guy could come into the ER with a fork sticking out of the side of his head and tell me he got so mad at his brother that he stabbed himself in the head, and I would say "Have a seat, the doctor will be with you shortly."

So it surprises me in this day and age how judgmental we seem to be with each other. It is not in my DNA to presume to know what is best for any other human being, even my own children. They are adults with lives of their own and they both know better than me how they should do things. If I am asked my opinion, I will give an honest one, but otherwise, I keep my lip zipped.

Therefore when I turned on an afternoon talk show recently, I was surprised at a debate between a panel of stay at home moms versus a panel of working moms. I can't believe we are still having this conversation! The working moms were calling the stay at home moms lazy, while the stay at home moms were accusing the working moms of paying other people to take care of their children. I was always a working mom, because A, there were bills to be paid, and Two, I liked my job and I liked to work. After taking three years off to have my children I found myself one day bragging about having used whole wheat flour instead of white in a batch of cookies and immediately decided I must go back to work. I worked forever after until I retired last year, and as far as I can see, my kids turned out just fine. So while watching this show, I was thinking, okay, I can solve this problem in about three seconds. You guys over there? You want to stay at home? Into your minivans, and off you go. You over there? You say you want to work outside the home? Put on your work shoes and have a good day. Problem solved.

The judgment I see, especially among young mothers, is just silly. You do things your way, someone else does it theirs. No one is wrong and everyone should be happy.

I felt some of this judgment myself two weeks ago, when, with Brad and Traci away, I took my Baby Bean to her ballet class. The chirpy young dance instructor started the lesson by asking each child what they had for breakfast. The first little girl said "I had yogurt and fruit". The second little cherub said "I had oatmeal with fruit". Hmmm, I thought, I do not like the direction this is taking. Around the circle we went with each little one topping the one before. I expected the next tiny tot to say she had two perfectly poached free-range eggs nestled on a bed of sautéed organic spinach with a garlic reduction. Soon enough it was Colbies turn. "I HAD FROSTED MINI WHEATS!" she shouted out proudly! Well, all eyes turned to me, her breakfast-challenged Nana. From the look on their faces she might as well have said she had two double stuffed Oreos with a side of Sweet Tarts and a glass of coke.

 You go on Facebook, and someone jokingly asks "which one of your children do you like best?' You can hear the collective gasps, while someone searches frantically for a Dislike button. I am pretty sure that this remark was intended as a JOKE! I think the problem with society today is that we have all lost our sense of humor. You can debate for hours why this is so, but the bottom line is, how do you get through life without having a good laugh now and again. I don't think we are doing our children any favors by modeling this sort of uptight behaviour. Sometimes you just have to laugh.

It's not just young people either. The other day my Mom made the mistake of (gasp) going" in" to Walmart through the "out" door. Oh the travesty! A gentleman took her aside and tore a strip off her right then and there. Please....my mother is 87 years old. She has worked hard, raised children, paid taxes and been a good citizen. If she wants to go in the out door, please get out of her way and leave her alone!

So everyone, please take a deep breath and lighten up. There is plenty to fuss over....don't make stuff up. Live and Let live. As my Mom used to always say, There's more than one way to skin a cat. (Of course this saying gave me nightmares when I was a kid, but now I understand it. Or maybe not. Mom, what the heck does that mean anyway?)

But you get my drift. Take it easy on each other. Do things your way, and let others do the same. Learn from each other. Don't be so busy" telling" that you forget to hear. It's all good. We need to start supporting each other instead of pulling each other down.

And by the way, I defy any mother of small children to say that they have never liked one kid more than another at one time or another. It's a tough job, raising kids. If you can't laugh now, you will never make it through the teen years.

Bean there done that, its all good.

Bean there done that

Who Are You, Really?

I was watching Oprah conduct an interview the other day, and she asked her guest the question, "Who are you, really?" That's a strange question, I thought. How does anyone answer a question like that? I have no idea who I am "really". Like everyone else, there is a lot of "Me's" in there. There is the mother me, the wife me, the sister and daughter me. I am a mother first, and foremost, but the biggest me aside from that is the Nurse me. After 45 years of being an ER/ICU nurse, that me is pretty well developed. That is the me that runs towards chaos, instead of away from it. The one that puts aside her emotions to deal with whatever has to be dealt with and falls apart later. This is the me that bleeds into all the others and appropriately enough, looks after everyone. (Can you say "Sybil'?) I have been doing a lot of thinking about that lately and decided that it's time for the nurse me to retire. I will just be really me, as soon as I can figure out who that is, and damn the consequences. This I fear is not going to be easy. Having kept a tight rein on the crazy for all these years, it is all apt to just fall out and land in a big pile at my feet, and that would just be uncomfortable for everyone. I will do it slowly.

So, the other day when I was doing my Work day at Peekaboo Beans, an opportunity opened. Derrick told me I could listen to any radio station I wanted. Okay, I thought, here is a chance to display the real me. Dare I admit that I want to listen to country music? I blurted out "How about some Country music" and then I began to have doubts, but Derrick didn't bat an eyelash, he just dialed in JRFM. (Thank you Derrick) I had a moment of concern....Oh my Lord, please do not let "My Truck Got Stuck" be playing. Or worse, "I Want to Check You for Tics'" I would never live down the humiliation! But no, it was "Red Neck Woman"....a little embarrassing, but not too too bad. A million times better than "I'm Just a Bug on the Windshield of My Life". In any case, I ended up line dancing up and down the aisles, happy as a clam, filling my orders and rocking (well square dancing anyway) to my tunes. Later, Julie and Lisa both admitted to being Country Girls! My dirty little secret was out and I wasn't alone.

So take a little time to think about this question...who are you really? Just be who you are! Fly your freak flag and let 'er rip. I would write more, but I have to go because my favorite song is on the radio. "I Want You to Love Me Like My Dog Does Baby" is playing and I couldn't be happier. 

Bean there done that, its all good.

Bean there done that.

"If I had my life to live over I would have talked less and listened more."

Erma Bombeck was a much loved newspaper columnist when my children were young.  Her columns were filled with funny ans witty comments about family life, mixed with wisdom and good common sense.  When Erma was diagnosed with a terminal illness, she wrote a list of all the things she would have done differently if she had her life to live over again.  From time to time, I am going to share some of the things on her list.

The first quote had a special meaning for me because I spent way too much time talking and telling instead of listening and hearing.  When Traci was three she said to me on day, "Mommy, why do I have to put on a coat when YOU are cold and I have to have a nap when YOU are tired?"  Such wisdom coming out of the mouth of a tiny girl.  I didn't get it then, but now I understand.  Now that I have grandchildren, I am trying to atone for my past mistakes by diligently honing my listening skills.

I have started doing a early "interview" with the girls.  Each year around he time of their birthdays I tell them, "It's time for our interview" and with clipboard in hand, we lie on the bed wrapped in a cozy blanket I ask the questions and write down the answer exactly as they tell me.  I do not embellish or lead.  I put a copy of the interviews in their birthday cards for their parents to read.  The questions I  choose are age appropriate and go something like this:

What do your mom and dad look like?

What is your favorite family thing to do and why?

What advice would you give a friend who is having a problem?

What is the best (or the worst) thing about being 6 (or 7 or 8)?

What do you think is the best age to get married?

Oh my, I have learned some wonderful things in the answers they give me.  I have learned that you have to know how to be "loving and responsible" to be a good parent and that Cailin's favorite fashion "look" is "a dress and tights and high heels and hoop earrings."  The girls seem to love this interview process and get right into it.  I will be starting this with Colbie on her next birthday and I expect to get some very interesting answers... this is the girl who told me "My mom is named Traci and my Dad is named Brad".  After a pause she added, "Have you met them?"

So, I have discovered that I am not to old to learn to listen.  No one ever learned anything by talking. 

Bean There, Done That.  It's all Good.