Last week I had the opportunity to go home. It’s true, what they say, you can’t go home again. Things are never the same as what you recall. Time doesn’t stand still. It isn’t possible for things to remain the same. However, home is still home; and there is comfort and memory and deep emotional attachment, both good and bad. Continue reading
Short answer: yes. Long answer: I’ve taken some time to enjoy my summer and I’m finally (and really) just getting started.
I have learned something REALLY IMPORTANT from this last life experience (and seriously, I really thought I had learned most of what I needed to know). Funny, I didn’t even realize I was doing what I was doing, but once it became clear to me, I could see it and was horrified. So get ready… this is big… are you ready? Here it is:
Sit with it a minute. Think about it. What is going on in your life that is causing you to “wait” for whatever it is? It goes something like this:
— When I lose those 20 pounds…
— When the kids go back to school…
— After we get back from vacation …
— As soon as I get a job…
Sometime in August, I realized I was waiting. Waiting for that new job to start living again. It’s not that I sit around all day doing nothing. I have had a great summer, but I’ve still been mostly “marking time.”
For me, it took having a discussion with my husband about making some home renovations, and every suggestion he had was met with “well, let’s wait till I find my job” from me. He’s trying to live his life, and I’m sitting here saying “Wait!”
Well, I’m not waiting anymore. I first started blogging about The Man and my life six years ago with a post about why we got married in the first place. Nobody can promise you tomorrow. You have today. So don’t waste it!
I have learned (as I’m sure, have you) that it’s tough… when there’s something going on that weighs on your mind more than anything else. You spend a lot of mental energy worrying about things that aren’t necessarily making any progress. For example, worrying about getting a new job doesn’t help me do it. Applying for appropriate jobs, perfecting my resume, writing a brilliant cover letter — those things help. Worrying does not.
I’ve joined a couple of groups of people going through a life “work” transition, but I admit, I don’t go. There’s something tremendously depressing about other people going through what I’m going through, and I don’t need to be depressed on top of everything else!
So, September 7 is my START OVER date. Pick yours. Make a plan. Get going with it. Don’t kick yourself while you’re down. Give yourself a break every once in a while. And don’t be a downer. People don’t want to spend time with downers. Enjoy this experience. Grow. Learn. Laugh. There is a reason we’re going through this. There is something we’re set up to learn. So enjoy. Embrace. And get ready — the next big thing is just around the corner.
Well that’s a loaded question! It’s been nearly a month since I started this journey and sometimes I feel like my whole world has expanded, and other times I feel like I haven’t budged an inch!
What I’m finding is that my feelings about progress are directly related to the amount of work I do to ensure I make some: whether it’s networking, blogging, planning, reading a helpful book or learning more about a topic. The only reason that’s relevant is that there are days when I just don’t feel like it — any of it. That sounds lazy, I know. But I know I’m not lazy. I think I’m just tired. It’s been a long haul, and I’m tired. So I’m trying not to let it get me down, and I’m letting my body dictate how much I get done. Continue reading
This is a subject that has already sparked fierce conversation. Brock Turner, convicted of rape (and numerous other charges) at Stanford University has finally been sentenced — and America was shocked to see him get what seems to be a “slap on the wrist.” Equally telling, it apparently took innumerable requests and public shaming by media outlets to force a release of Brock Turner’s mugshots by local police and university personnel.
I’m going to start off with some understanding, from the perspective of a parent of boy children. Times have changed. Sit with a minute. Times really have changed. I remember 20 years ago, when my oldest son was in very early elementary years, receiving calls from school about his behavioral issues. His father and I were in the throes of a sad and difficult divorce, and my son’s “behavioral” issues amounted to an emotional clinginess that meant he hugged his friends – a lot. It made other children uncomfortable. Not to mention my oldest grew up to be a football player – he was always a big-for-his-age kid. But there was nothing “bad” or “violent” or mean-spirited” about these behaviors. They simply made other kids “uncomfortable” (or for all I know, the teachers observing). Continue reading
Yesterday’s new record 93 degree temperatures were a challenge. It’s one thing when you spend the day in an air-conditioned office and go home to discomfort. It’s another thing when the heat hits on a Saturday and you have chores to do.
Last night marked the return of the Wednesday Night Market at Pike Place Market, running every Wednesday from 5 to 8 p.m. through mid-October.
According to market officials, in addition to some of the regular vendors that will stay open late for evening visitors, Pike Place will host local producers in tents in front of the regular market stalls just below the entrance on Pike Street (on the cobblestones).
It wasn’t a huge crowd that turned out for last night’s event (partly, I think because a good number of visitors waited at the Market entrance and the evening events took place further north down the cobbled street through the market. Continue reading
I grew up the child of a submariner. I won’t say a “Navy brat.” My dad was enlisted and none of us were allowed to be brats. But we were fortunate to have a wonderful life as a result of his service. My dad is blessedly still alive (and happily with my mom after 52 years of marriage), so every Memorial Day I say “thank you” — to my dad (and my mom) and those who have served, are serving, and help keep the families together during all that service. Military families are a special bunch. They move a lot. Spouses are alone a lot. Children don’t know who to believe is the “authoritarian” parent.My mom scared the bejeezus out of us. But then my dad came home and he expected every order to be obeyed. It’s tough when you’re 7. But we figured it out. I had two younger brothers while my father served. My third brother was born when he retired from the U.S. Navy. My dad wasn’t even 40 (if you’re doing the math, my dad may have fudged on his age a bit at enlistment, but what do I know). Continue reading