Just pinned this on my pinterest.com board entitled “wrong” with the caption “There may very well be more than a million better ways to combat childhood obesity than these ads.” (this photo is embedded – I did not upload it to this page)
I became aware of the ads because Jillian Michaels shared one of the photos on her facebook page and asked for people to “weigh in.”
I showed this photo to 11 year old PinkGirl and asked her what she would think if she saw them on a billboard.
“Those kids probably feel horrible and honestly, I don’t see how these would change anything.”
I’ve stuck my nose in this one.
[BEFORE I GO ANY FURTHER, PLEASE LET ME DISCOURAGE YOU FROM POSTING ANY COMMENTS ON THE FB PAGE OF THE ORGANIZATION RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS “CAMPAIGN.” IF YOU WANT TO POST ANY COMMENTS, PLEASE DO SO ON JILLIAN MICHAELS FACEBOOK PAGE INSTEAD. THEY ARE READING THE COMMENTS ON JILLIAN’S PAGE. THE LAST THING I WANT TO DO IS PROMOTE THIS ORGANIZATION. IF YOU “Like” OR COMMENT ON THEIR FACEBOOK PAGE, I WILL CONSIDER THIS POST A FAIL.]
That said, I did comment on their page – BUT I did NOT “Like” the page. Here’s my first comment:
It’s clear that [stopchildhoodobesity] has good intentions. However, in communication, intention is irrelevant. The true measure of success in communicating your message is how it is being encoded and decoded (sent and received) . Are you watching what’s happening on Jillian Michaels facebook page in response to this ad? Over 3100 comments before I started writing this one on your page. Up 100 more as I finish. If your intention is to be effective, don’t dismiss people who aren’t responding favorably to your approach by telling them to focus on solutions instead. [stopchildhoodobesity] is in a position to gain quite a bit of support here. Praying for a powerful turnaround to this.
They didn’t respond to my comment and it seems they were unaware of what was happening on Jillian’s page. About an hour later, they posted a status update thanking Jillian Michaels for “joining the conversation” and explained that it was “hard to judge the purpose of the ads if you are not in Atlanta seeing them first-hand.” They further justified the ads by saying “The intention was to start a conversation and it worked.”
really? They thanked her? Did they not read the (at that time, more than 3500) comments on her page?
Then, someone commented on their update by saying:
“I’m in full support of what [sco] is doing & to have a woman as powerful as Jillian Michaels on board, it only re-affirms [sco]’s positive campaign…”
oh.
no.
“positive” campaign? I usually ignore ignorance, but after that comment, I just couldn’t, in good conscience, just click away. Here’s my comment on that update:
[to commenter] Jillian Michaels is NOT “on board” with this and I hope [stopchildhoodobesity] doesn’t mislead people by allowing them to think she supports them when it isn’t true.
[stopchildhoodobesity] – Atlanta does not have a culture the rest of America doesn’t understand. If your intent was to start a conversation, your job is done. Once people have identified with an issue, they need direction and help to take ACTION. Jillian Michaels focuses on solutions, not conversation. And she does so with compassion and empathy.
Please consider consulting a professional PR person to protect your reputation. You are on the cusp of a big PR mistake.
They responded with this comment:
“This post was to thank Jillian Michaels for joining the conversation about childhood obesity and share the “Stop the Cycle” video to further the conversation.”
They still don’t get it.
This organization REALLY needs the help of a professional PR person. They are losing credibility by the minute. It’s only been a few hours and the photo on Jillian’s fb page has over 4000 comments – written by some of Jillian’s 1,165,161 facebook fans – NOT Jillian. She did NOT join the conversation.
Praying that [stopchildhoodobesity] will ABANDON this campaign and redirect their efforts and resources in a more positive direction. One which focuses on SOLUTIONS.
I’m not one to avoid conflict. I’ve found that, much too often, constant unanimous agreement results in substandard ideas and dispassionate forward motion.
Confrontation doesn’t scare me. I don’t avoid conflict because I’m afraid of the person I need to confront or the possible repercussions of the confrontation.
That said, there are some situations in which I choose NOT to confront someone when a conflict develops. I wrote a post earlier this week entitled “Dear PinkGirl, don’t copy me.” where I confessed to being a hypocrite because I was coaching and expecting my daughter to stand up to a passive-aggressive person in her life and I was hit with the realization that I wasn’t standing up to a passive-aggressive person in my own life. It was one of those rare occasions where I recognized the contradiction between my words and actions before she did.
In my particular situation, someone in authority over me doesn’t want there to be a confrontation and I’m committed to respecting their wishes. But PinkGirl didn’t know that.
But this entire situation has me thinking I should explain why confrontation doesn’t make me uncomfortable.
It’s not because I’m strong, though I admit I’ve been called a “strong-willed woman” more than a few times. It’s not because I have a degree in communication and have a conflict resolution model memorized and ready to mentally fill in at any time, although I do (have it memorized and am ready to use it).
It’s because I’m desensitized.
When you spend decades bombarded with emotional outbursts, ultimatums, silent treatments and guilt trips, you adapt and create a new normal. It’s required.
Because if you don’t, no matter how hard or long you climb up, you will live a roller-coaster emotional life with every drop controlled by someone else. This new normal is stable and steady and no matter who’s controlling the coaster, you remain unaffected. It’s like standing on that little walkway that runs along side the coaster – the one reserved for the people who take care of it, instead of on the tracks. You can walk along side, at your own pace, with no need to move out of the way. The coaster can come barreling along, full speed and no matter what’s propelling it – guilt, the silent treatment, tears, anger – you are off to the side, watching, protected because you aren’t in its path.
Guilt trips do not move me to action because, from my experience, when someone is attempting to make me feel guilty, they are, in reality, trying to manipulate me. I’ve had enough manipulation. I. am. unmoved.
Not because I’m strong. Or smart. Or pragmatic.
Because I’m desensitized.
The silent treatment will backfire when used on me. I’m immune. It’s like a free pass to ignore the person who refuses to speak to me. If I ask someone what’s wrong and they say “nothing,” I will take them at their word, no matter how much they continue to mope and pout.
Tears do not move me to give in. Tears do not move me to change my mind, do something that goes against the core of what I believe, or lie to someone to help them rationalize the truth and/or avoid the consequences of their choices. In the past, tears have moved me to do all of these things.
Not anymore.
When someone cries in front of me, especially someone with whom I’m involved a work relationship, I see two possibilities: (1) they are upset and they need a few minutes to compose themselves. (2) they are trying manipulate me (consciously or subconsciously) and get their way by eliciting sympathy from me.
Either way, my standard response is to sincerely tell the person who is crying that I’m sorry they are upset and give them a few minutes to compose themselves. And I really am sorry that they are upset, I just don’t believe I’m responsible for making them happy by doing what they want.
(This is only when someone wants something from me, I’m not saying that I’ve never done something I need to apologize for, because I have no problem apologizing when I’m wrong. The “splainin’ I did to PinkGirl about this included an “I was wrong and I’m sorry.” again, CLICK HERE to read how that went.)
Anger does not move me. When someone displays what appears to be an uncontrollable outburst of anger, spewing acrimonious language and accusations and sometimes even profanity?
I see them as weak. Unreasonable.
To be honest, when I’m blindsided by a verbal attack from someone I respect, my initial, internal reaction is to be defensive. I’m human. I want to “right back atcha.” But it’s fleeting. It’s a flash of adrenaline and then I let it go. Because I absolutely refuse to emulate the person who taught me that uncontrolled displays of anger are a sign of weakness. A tantrum is an irrational waste of time and counter-productive to ANY goal or healthy relationship. When my children had a tantrum, I usually had one of two things to say. Picture it:
In Walmart. Somebody wants something I’ve said they can’t have. The tantrum begins. People walking by. Staring. Sympathetic looks. Disapproving, “can’t you shut that kid up” looks. Me, leaning on the cart, elbow on the handle, chin in my hands. Waiting patiently. After a few moments, during a break in the screaming while the tantrum thrower takes a breath, I ask, “Are you done yet?” or “Is this working for you? Cause it’s not really working for me.” Sometimes, after asking “Are you done yet?” the kiddo would wail, “NOOoooooo!”
Okay then. (Just to confirm – the tantrum did not move me to buy anything.)
Because I see uncontrolled outbursts of anger as a sign of weakness, I’m able to give tantrum throwers grace. I usually don’t take it personally. When someone has an explosive outburst, I figure I’m the least of their problems. If I’m dealing with a child, I’ve got some serious character building opportunities and I usually take advantage of them if I can.
If I’m dealing with an adult, I tend to feel sorry for them. Any adult who handles a problem by throwing a tantrum probably isn’t throwing one for the first time. Somewhere along the line, it’s worked for them before and they’ve developed a pattern of behavior. Just like me. It’s just that our patterns of behavior are on opposite sides of the emotional scale.
There are a few adults in my life from whom I’ve come to expect such an attack. Those attacks are easy to deflect. Since I expect them, I’m prepped and ready.
You can probably guess that I don’t respect any of these behaviors and I can’t stomach any of them in myself. I don’t use guilt as a negotiation tool. I don’t cry or mope in front of someone who has the power to change my circumstance. I don’t gossip to garner support for my cause instead of talking directly to the people who have the authority to make decisions. I don’t scream or curse at people, no matter what they do.
But, as I explained in my post earlier this week, entitled “taut [tawt] adjective: emotionally or mentally strained or tense” it’s not because I stifle the emotions that lead to these behaviors. It’s just that, on an emotional scale of 1 to 10, I normally operate at about a 1 or a 2. I’m standing on the walkway next to the emotional roller coaster.
I’m desensitized.
I’m 47. This “lowered emotional state” is deeply rooted in my personality. Not many people get this about me without feeling sorry for me. Like I’m missing something or need to be “cured.” But keep in mind, it’s not that I’m incapable of emotion, just that I usually don’t let things get to me. I don’t want to be “cured.” I’m not missing anything. I’ve just had more than my fair share of high emotion already.
I like the calmness.
CLICK HERE to see other posts I’ve written about dealing with emotional bullies, narcissists and passive-aggressive people.
Eleven year old PinkGirl auditioned for Beauty and the Beast this month. Of course she wanted the part of Belle. At the four hour cast call backs the week after her first audition, she sang and read for Belle. The only other character she was asked to try was Babbette, the feather duster.
She couldn’t do the walk.
In the end, she got the part of Madam. The Wardrobe.
She hadn’t been asked to sing or read for any other character, and the role of the Wardrobe wasn’t announced until just before the role of Belle, so as she heard the other parts being assigned to her fellow cast members, the process of elimination gave her false hope. When her name was called, she was completely blindsided.
The moment they were dismissed, she bolted out the door, still in her jazz shoes. She held herself together until she was about three feet from the van. Since she had run out so fast, none of her friends heard her break down crying.
I got in the van and quickly drove to an empty spot in the parking lot.
Immediately – and I mean IMMEDIATELY – she leapt to the conclusion that she wasn’t good at the one thing she thought she was really good at. The decision made by this stranger somehow represented the real truth and everyone else who had ever told her she was good was just being nice. This was a sign that she should quit. This was proof that she wasn’t as good at singing and acting as she thought she was. This was God saying no, not only to Belle, but to theater. She was just fooling herself, wasting everyone’s time and her parent’s money.
She said all these things to herself and to me through broken tears. Then she SCREAMED them again at God. At the top of her lungs, she DEMANDED to know why He was breaking her heart. She told Him that He was making her feel WORTHLESS. When she wrapped her arms around my neck sobbing and screamed “I thought you LOVED me!” at God, it wrenched me. Exhausted from the screaming, she broke down again, sobbing, telling God she was sorry. That she loved him. That she would always love him. No matter what.
This had nothing to do with being disappointed about not getting the part of Belle.
Sure, she was sad and disappointed she didn’t get the role she was going for, but that’s happened before. She played an eel in Little Mermaid – and you know she didn’t go into the audition wanting that part. She was heartbroken when she didn’t get the part of Ti Moune in Once Upon this Island – she wanted that part so bad she became the secret, silent understudy because she wanted to be ready in case the lead couldn’t perform for any reason at all. And less than a year ago, she auditioned for Annie – the role every little actress dreams about – and the part went to her best friend.
She wasn’t just sad and disappointed about not getting a part. If only it were that simple. This was a full blown identity crisis. I looked it up:
identity crisis (noun) A period of uncertainty and confusion in which a person’s sense of identity becomes insecure, typically due to a change in their expected aims or role in society.
Here it was, two months after her 11th birthday, and she was convinced her dream of a career in theater was being taken from her. And of course, GOD was doing the taking. If she wasn’t an actress or a singer, who was she?
Sitting in the parking lot, I knew she wouldn’t be able to hear me until she had had it out with God. I didn’t stop her from screaming at Him. I didn’t reprimand her for talking to Him like that.
God can take it.
I waited. I held her. I stroked her hair. Kissed her forehead. I prayed that God would give me the words to say and that I would know the right time to say them. Suddenly, she seemed to literally run out of tears and – no surprise – she had a terrible headache. Her eyes were red and puffy and her face was pale. Her blood sugar was bottomed out and she needed to eat something. There was a Chick-Fil-A in the parking lot so I went through the drive-thru and parked again.
As we sat in the van and ate, she was quiet. Still crying, but quiet. I took a chance that she could hear me, and I decided to approach the smaller issue of Belle first, before I even tried to talk to her about her belief that it meant she wasn’t as good as she thought she was. I was hoping that if I could lessen the significance of the trigger event, the resulting blow to her self-confidence would be softened at the same time.
I told her I didn’t understand why God allowed this to happen. I said that when we face a trial, sometimes God shows us why right away, sometimes he shows us why much later and sometimes, we never get to know why.
Me: “Do you know what just happened with Aunt Wendy’s (my sister) teaching job??
PinkGirl: “no.”
Me: “You know she works at a bank 3 days a week, but about a year ago, she got hired as a college instructor to teach on Tuesdays and Thursdays. But the kind of teaching job she got wasn’t the kind where you just get hired and you keep the job until you leave or get fired. For this job, she got a contract to teach for one semester and then when that was finished, she got another contract to teach for another semester. You know what happened this semester?”
(negative head shake.)
Me: “She didn’t get a contract. They didn’t even call her to tell her they weren’t going to give her another contract. She was confused and hurt and upset and very worried about how they could pay their bills when she found out. Now she only has work 3 days a week. She couldn’t understand why God would allow this to happen. Then you know what happened?
(another negative head shake.)
Me: “CutiePie (my 1 year old nephew) got very, very sick. And Aunt Wendy didn’t have to leave him and go to work. She got to stay with him and take care of him most of the time he was sick. She posted a picture of him on facebook, sleeping after he was feeling better and you know what my comment was?
(another negative head shake.) “So thankful you didn’t have to teach today. God works in mysterious ways.”
(smile and tiny laugh)
I asked her if she was ready to talk about why God might have allowed this to happen in her life. Even though we can’t see the world from God’s point of view, what reasons could we think of from our limited perspective as humans?
PinkGirl: I think it’s a test.
Me: “What kind of test?”
PinkGirl, welling up again: “To see if I would love God no matter what.”
(From the moment she found out she was auditioning for Beauty and the Beast she had been praying and telling God she would love Him no matter what part she got and that whatever part that was, she would do her very best. Her dad and I prayed that prayer again with her the night before call backs and I prayed it again with her in the car on the way to call backs.)
Me: You may be right. Could it be another kind of test?
PinkGirl: “Like what?”
Me: “Could it be that God is helping you figure out if you really love theater as much as you say you do? Because, this will definitely happen again. More than once. You will want some other part and you won’t get it. And in some cases, you won’t even get a smaller role in the show you audition for. In some cases, you won’t get any role. You will probably NOT get the parts you want more often than you WILL get the parts you want.
(silent tears on her waffle fries)
Me: “PinkGirl, I don’t lie. You know I tell you the truth. You are good at this. And as good as you already are, you have the potential to get even better. I’ve told you before that I believe you can make a very good living in theater your entire life if you just don’t quit. I mean it. But you have to figure out if you can handle the disappointments that come with the joy. Do you love doing theater – no matter what?
(silent tears again)
Me: “What about your witness? GreatTheaterCompany isn’t a Christian organization. Some of the people there know you are a Christian. You invite your castmates to pray with you before shows. How can you be part of God’s story? Because HIS story is so much bigger and better than Beauty and the Beast. We need to start praying and asking God how He can use you to work all things for good.
Me: “I think it’s pretty safe to say it is. Do you trust that God knows what he’s doing and that this dark thread will help make the tapestry beautiful? Even if you don’t get to see it until you see Him face to face?
(positive head shake with the tears again. I got another hug.)
There’s a certain person in my daughter’s life, who if she allows it, erodes her joy. I’ll call her TheBully. Without getting into detail, I’ll just say that her behavior toward PinkGirl is often passive-aggressive. Every day after school, PinkGirl tells me what TheBully did that day. And every day, PinkGirl and I talk about how she might handle her interactions with TheBully. I’ve encouraged her to include TheBully in her prayers.
I’ve asked PinkGirl to consider that there might be things in TheBully’s life that we aren’t aware of that make her unhappy and her unhappiness might be why she acts the way she does. I’ve explained that some unhappy people try to make themselves feel better by making other people unhappy too. They don’t know they’re doing it and while it really doesn’t make them feel any happier, it does make them feel less alone. I’ve called to her attention that TheBully is also unkind to other people and I’ve tried to help PinkGirl understand that she shouldn’t take it personally.
But I’ve also told PinkGirl that even if all those things are true, it doesn’t give TheBully the right to act the way she does.
It’s not okay.
PinkGirl and I talk about it at length and every day, I conclude by saying that I believe it’s possible for her to stand firm and not let TheBully control her actions. Every day, I tell PinkGirl that it’s possible to tell the truth – even truth that might hurt someone’s feelings – using gracious words. PinkGirl remains steadfastly unconvinced and consistently counters that TheBully will “tell lies” about her to “everybody.” “Everybody” will be mad at her. and she will get into big trouble with the teachers.
Every day, I tell PinkGirl that’s not true. And every day, she tell’s me I don’t understand and that I’m wrong.
The freakish optimist in me gets so exasperated with her. How can my daughter be such a pessimist?
And then I get smacked in the face with a little empathy.
There’s a certain person in my life, who, if I allow her, erodes my joy. I’ll call her Narcissa. Without getting into detail, I’ll just say that her behavior toward me is often passive-aggressive. After a few years of praying about – and relentlessly lamenting to my husband about – these interactions and countless discussions with him about why God is allowing this person in my life and what I’m supposed to do and say to her with the love of Christ, I finally . . . blocked her out. Literally and figuratively.
I’ve spent the last few months flat-lined against the messages in her body language, her wounded facial expressions and the disgruntled and sarcastic mumbling. And flat-line has been working for me.
somewhat.
Recently, the passive aggressive behavior morphed into a face to face, non-ignorable conversation. Skilled communicator that I am, I couldn’t think of one thing to say that fell in line with God’s command to speak in love. The words of the great philosopher, Thumper the bunny, kept echoing in my mind: “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say nothing at all.”
So I stood there, speechless.
A few days later, a colleague/friend, who had witnessed the encounter, brought it up. My first response was to assure her that it was okay and to explain that, by the grace of God, I was in a place that Narcissa’s behavior didn’t bother me and that my focus was on my work.
But then my friend, a fellow Christian, said, “It’s just been weighing heavy on my heart.”
oh.
I’m not in a place where I can simply block her out. And I couldn’t ignore the fact that God has used her in other situations in my life to point out things I couldn’t or wouldn’t see. As I listened to her explain how Narcissa’s behavior was affecting her, I silently prayed that God would give me the right words to say. My initial thought was to sooth her soul, to help her accept the behavior of the person who was causing her so much heartache. Not once did I consider the possibility that the issue could be resolved. When my friend mentioned speaking with Narcissa about all this, my immediate reaction was, “ohhhhh, nooooo. That would not be a good idea.”
As she persistently brought up possibilities of addressing the problem, one by one, I shot them down: Can’t do it. Never gonna happen. There’s no situation in which that would turn out well. The fall out would be too far reaching.
The next day, alone, I thought: Who was that? I’m freakishly optimistic. I believe “can’t” is a four letter word. My mantra is “Just because I haven’t thought of an answer doesn’t mean there isn’t one. I just haven’t figured it out yet.”
What kind of power does this person have over me that I would abandon such a core characteristic? What kind of power does she have over other people? What kind of power does she have?
and what kind of example am I setting for my daughter? I had to fess up.
In the car ride home from school,
I said: “So, I had an epiphany. Do you know what that is?”
PinkGirl: “no.”
Me: “It’s a realization. I realized something today. You know how every day you tell me what TheBully did and I tell you that you need to stand firm and not let her control your actions? How you need to talk to her and tell her the truth using gracious words – even if it will hurt her feelings? And how every day, you tell me that you can’t do that because she will tell everyone lies and the teachers will get you in trouble and everyone will be mad at you …
PinkGirl: “Well not my real friends.”
Me: “True. But am I getting all this right? Am I leaving anything out?
PinkGirl: “No. That’s pretty much it.”
Me: “I realized I’m doing the same thing you are. Who’s TheBully in my life?”
PinkGirl, quick as a flash: “Narcissa.”
Me: “yep. I realized that I’m expecting you to do something I’m not willing to do myself. I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry for getting so frustrated with you when you refuse to try and work out your problems with TheBully.”
So. Now I either have to start coaching PinkGirl about how to physically and emotionally distance herself from TheBully or I have to refocus my efforts on preventing Narcissa’s passive-aggressive behavior from negatively impacting my thoughts and actions.
If you read my last post, I should probably steer clear of Narcissa for a while. Because right this minute, emotions are not a factor in my decision-making and communication. I could easily, objectively and thoroughly tell Narcissa the truth and be completely unaffected by ANY reaction she has.
Unfortunately, because there are other people involved who would be negatively impacted by the repercussions of an honest conversation with Narcissa, I think my best course of action is to keep praying the prayer I’ve been praying for years: “Lord, if you won’t change my circumstances, please change my attitude.” If I want to shake the Hypocrite Certificate, I think I need to teach PinkGirl that same prayer. And how to physically and emotionally duck and weave to stay out of TheBully’s line of sight.
CLICK HERE to see other posts I’ve written about dealing with emotional bullies, narcissists and passive-aggressive people.
(the premise is that children who are capable of delayed gratification are more “successful” than children who can’t delay gratification. The test? Give a kid a marshmallow and tell them they can eat it – BUT if they can wait 10-15 minutes, they can have TWO marshmallows. Some kids make it. Some kids don’t. Some kids find a way to eat the INSIDE of a marshmallow and make it look like they didn’t eat it. That would be the little girl with the pink headband. The kid vs. marshmallow test video begins around the 3 minute mark.)
PinkGirl spent nearly an HOUR crying last night. About E.V.E.R.Y.thing. She went from one problem to the next, never stopping, sometimes overlapping. When, between tragedies, I suggested that she might be exhausted, she said,
“Mom, sometimes I just need to exhale all my emotions.”
God gave her to me on purpose.
I’m so thankful she’s so self-aware and articulate.
During PinkGirl’s uncontrollable tearfest, one of the many, many things she was crying about:
“and technology is going to replace books!!!! (weepy hiccups) That’s why Borders closed. People are going to stop buying books and everybody’s just gonna have Kindles!!! (each syllable in the word Kindle lasted about 10 full seconds – more weeping).
Me: “Hey, now that’s not true. What did I get in the mail JUST TODAY?”
PinkGirl: “boookssss” (pause for more hiccups) “But, how did you order them?”
I feel the need to spend some time at (a brick and mortar) BAM.
6:45am: Me, trying to wake PinkGirl this morning:
“Good morning Ida.” (her character in the play she’s in rehearsals for) nothing.
“Good morning, Luna” (the character she’s dressing up as tonight) nothing.
“Good morning, PinkGirl” nothing.
“HAPPY HALLOWEEN!” PinkGirl: “JUST A MINUTE. I’m almost finished with my dream.”
1pm:
I know some Christians have a problem with Halloween, but in our house it has always only been about two things: costumes and candy. Like theater, but on a sugar high.
5:45pm:
Any personal recommendations for spice/flavor if I attempt to roast these pumpkin seeds? And, I suppose, any instructions on how to roast pumpkin seeds? I can Google, but I haven’t gotten that far yet. I’m still dealing with jack-0-lantern guts.
6:45pm:
kids fed dinner. check
kids dressed in Halloween costumes. check
jack-o-lanterns carved. check.
pumpkin guts cleaned up…kinda. mini-Snickers in the freezer. check.
7:45pm: There’s a guy driving down my street in a golf cart, pulling a lighted, homemade mini-Halloween float with kids on it. #toomuchtimetoomuchmoney
The witch from Snow White, painted by MY DAD! Unfortunately, there’s something about her that says: “Don’t wait for someone to open the door, just go ahead – reach out and open it yourself! Had to lock the door between trick-or-treaters!
8:45pm: A tiny little boy pulled down the bowl of candy I was holding to look for a lollipop, which I didn’t have. PinkGirl chased him down the sidewalk to give him one from her pillowcase.
The weather is beautiful! I made FavoriteSon go out into the backyard tonight and do NOTHING.
No electronics.
No distractions.
I told him he could talk to God or just listen, I didn’t care, but for FIVE minutes, I wanted him to sit outside with the wind in his face and look out over the pond behind our backyard and do NOTHING.
He came back in 10 minutes later and said:
“That just made me realize I need to mow the backyard.”
I’d REALLY like to say I don’t know where he gets it.
August 29, 2011 (FirstHusband was out of town and my car needed to go into the shop.)
“I’ll be driving the Ford F250 this week, but in addition to the water it needs to be fed every day, FirstHubs says it needs oil. I’ll be dragging a step ladder out to do that because there is NO WAY I can reach while standing on the ground.”
(didn’t drive the F250. Called dibs on FavoriteSon’s car instead. I can just see it, a Ford F250 with the hood up, next to an empty stepladder – and my legs hanging out of the engine because I fell in)
__________
August 30, 2011 Dear Tuesday, August 30th: you have exceeded your daily limit of the word “no.”
__________
Did some new hire computer training today – I LOVE it when I can show someone how to make their job easier and their work more efficient – at the SAME time! Ultimately, it helps to lower their stress level, increase their job satisfaction and build their confidence. And I LOVE it when I train someone who’s enthusiastic about learning!
__________
August 31, 2011
I spy . . . a forgotten lunch box on the kitchen counter. dang it.
__________
I was supposed to get a new driver’s license Tuesday morning.
Text from FirstHusband in Utah: “Any luck on the driver’s license front?”
Me: “you. are. a. nag.”
1stHubs: “I waited more than 24 hours after you said you would be there. Besides, I’m waiting on something. I’m bored.”
Me: “Had to get PinkGirl to school 45 minutes early because we only had one car. This photo will follow me for 10 years.”
1stHubs: “What? I’m confident your natural beauty will shine through. You are being too modest.”
pshhh. He IS bored.
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Trying to write. I knew avoidance was imminent. random word search on youtube: “business”
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I’m confident there is an answer to this problem. Just haven’t figured it out yet. If only I had $199. What? I said I was avoiding. I just shifted from youtube to ebay. (click HERE for the Thinking Chair eBay auction)
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September 1, 2011
FavoriteSon home from school today. His self-diagnosis? Strep. 11:30 appointment at the doctor to confirm.
FavoriteSon’s self-diagnosis is confirmed. He is “strep throat boy.” Now we try and prevent him from morphing into “CONTAGIOUS strep throat boy”
FavoriteSon: “Mom, will you make me a grilled cheese sandwich?”
Me: “It’s 9 o’clock at night. I bought you soup.”
FavSon: “You can’t eat soup without grilled cheese.”
Me: “yes you can. I’ve seen it done.”
FirstHusband, overhearing all this over the phone: “you don’t love your son enough to make him a grilled cheese sandwich?” It’s a grilled cheese conspiracy.
10:21pm – I caved. he really is pitiful when he’s sick.
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September 2, 2011 at 1:07pm Bob the Cat is dumber than dirt. I must have thrown him (gently) off my desk 30 times in the last hour and a half. Trying to get some work done and he’s seriously throwing off my groove!
FavoriteSon vs. AP Lit. FavSon: “I can’t.”
Me: “can’t is a four letter word.”
FavSon with a formal tone of voice and his signature grin: “I cannot.”
I have no idea where he gets it.
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Headed back to BodyInUnity yoga Monday morning (M-W-F at 9:15 am at First United Methodist Church of Oviedo in the youth room if you’re so inclined to join us)! I’m stiff and weak and flabby and reeking of lazy bum – all with no excuse! If I want do more than pay lip service to my commitment to be a good steward of this body God has blessed me with – it’s time to GET BACK TO WORK.
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Got a flashing oil light in the van today and drove straight to Auto Mech & Muffler. Turns out, that light is supposed to flash when you’re 6 months and 10,000 miles past your last oil change. oops. (Since I’ve somehow become oblivious to the little reminder sticker they put on the top of the windshield, I just entered it in my phone calendar with an alarm.)
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FavoriteSon, doing pre-calc: “Dad, I know how to get ‘Q’ but can you help me get ‘P’?
Both FirstHusband and I answered: “drink water.”
FavSon groaned.
Me: “What? Did you not see that coming?”
FavSon: “I thought you were more mature than that.”
nope.
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FirstHusband texting me while on travel in Detroit: “I’m driving a Dodge Charger.”
Me: “Oh no you DID NOT just tell me that!” (Those of you who are aware of my affinity for muscle cars: Dodge Charger = Dream Car.)
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10 year old PinkGirl: “Mom, there may be some tornadic activity on Friday.” (She knows who Jim Cantore is too.)
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Target snack bar. PinkGirl talking about her day, seemingly without taking a breath while devouring breadsticks. Good times.
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Thursday night. 10:30pm. Too quiet downstairs. Called down to FavoriteSon and FirstHusband: “Are both of you on task and making intentional choices?”
At the same time, I hear:
FirstHusband, (playing a videogame): “He is.”
FavoriteSon, (on the internet): “no.”
Do I know them or what?
” today. LOVE these kids. 
